Wizards Daughter

She will save the boy, and thus save me. So, tell me, Sarimund, does this mean that you are my father as well, back when all this began? Are you a Vail?'

Sarimund laughed. 'My line is long and noble, perhaps more powerful than either of yours, but my line is not of your line, my lord. Your father is your father, the Earl of Mountjoy, descendant of Captain Jared Vail. You are English through and through.

'You have come into the Pale as you were meant to do. You have become who you were meant to be. Time grows short now and it is time for you to act.'

'Will Nicholas survive when he pays his debt to me?

Sarimund was silent for a very long time. He turned to look up at the three bloodred moons. 'When Taranis approved my spell, he dreamed to me that if I interfered in any way at all, then the spell would cease and all would be lost. I demanded then to know why he couldn't interfere; after all, he was a god, he lived in the Pale. He sang to me: Ido not meddle in the affairs of witches and wizards and they do not meddle in the affairs of dragons.

'Therefore, since I promised not to meddle, I cannot cast my eyes to what came to pass, and thus I cannot know.'

Rosalind grabbed Sarimund's beautifully stitched collar and shook him. 'Damn you, wizard, that lame bit of reasoning is not good enough.'

Sarimund eyed her, a gleam of pride in his beautiful eyes. 'It is the best I can do. If only you had come to the Pale when I first selected you, Isabella, the bright child so filled with magic light-then all would have come to pass as I foresaw it. Jared Vail would have been here to protect you.

'But the time was still far into the future. Actually, I have wondered if Taranis meddled and knocked time awry. He is occasionally bored, you know, and it would perk him up to create some mayhem.'

Rosalind began shaking Sarimund, so frustrated she wanted to clout him. 'You listen to me, Sarimund. I do not care if the magician Merlin himself knocked time awry, I don't want Nicholas in danger, do you understand me?'

'Since you are yelling,' Nicholas said, grinning at her, taking her hand in his, 'he certainly hears you.'

He turned to Sarimund. His voice was emotionless when he said, 'You believe I will die, don't you?'

Sarimund said, 'I cannot know, I told you. But now that I have seen you, my lord, I realize you are formidable, that you will not be easily vanquished, but your powers are still crude because you do not want to accept your magic. You must forget your hidebound earth rules with all their constraints. You must allow yourself to believe and accept what you are and you will grow stronger here, stronger than the three bloodred moons. You will be invincible.

'Here in the Pale, magic is sharp and clear and embedded in the very air itself. Here, there is nothing to impede your ability-if only you will let your magic have its full rein. Here, you will find it obeys you, mayhap with some elegance. Elegance and grace of action is a very fine thing in a trained wizard.'

Rosalind said, 'The lines I sang when I first began to speak again – Iknow of his death and her grievous sin. Who are they? What does it mean?'

'The he is Prince Egan, you know that his death is very possible indeed. Naturally, Epona's is the grievous sin, which could come to pass if you fail. I planted the lines deep in your mind, so they would always be with you, a reminder, a trigger, I suppose you would say in your modern day, to make you see, to understand.'

'But I did not understand.'

'Perhaps my elegant lines were a bit too subtle, but no matter, you are here. Ah, look yon, there is Taranis. He is the leader of the Dragons of the Sallas Pond.

'Listen to me, hath of you. The balance in the Pale is always precarious. Taranis knows this very well. He made certain I knew it when he dreamed the danger to me so long ago.'

Taranis, Rosalind thought as she and Nicholas turned to look at the magnificent dragon who was soaring through the night sky, silhouetted against the bloodred moons, coming closer and closer. The very air around him seemed to part with his passage. He flapped his huge wings lazily, remaining perhaps a dozen feet above them. His emerald eyes whirled in his great head as he studied them. He was much larger than his son, and he was elegant, all his movements lithe and supple, as if practiced for a very long time.

Taranis smiled, pleasure flowed through him, although no one could tell that. He opened his great mouth and sang, 'I am Taranis, Dragon of the Sallas Pond. I am glad you are here. Time grows short. Come, my lord, Isabella, it is time to end this. Blood Rock awaits.' He turned his great head toward Sarimund and sang, 'You have kept faith with me. A wizard with a dragon's honesty.'

Rosalind said, 'Do none of you speak simply here in the Pale?'

Taranis sang, 'The cadence of simple words is boring. The air lies flat when simple words spill out of a mouth. Singing the words gives them life and interest, and relieves tedium. I have waited for you for a very long time, as has Sarimund. We will see how well he casts his wizard's spells, though this one is beyond old and perhaps unravels. Welcome, Isabella.' Then there was laughter, deep rolling laughter that seemed to come from the belly of that huge creature.

'Go with him,' Sarimund said. 'Taranis is pleased, he knows it is all about to come to an end. The Pale has been teetering as would a man on a stretched rope. What would have happened had you not come now? I do not know, but the possibilities curdle my innards.' He smiled at them. 'Yes, I have innards.' He shrugged and patted his belly. 'Go with him,' he said again, 'be cautious, trust no one, and never forget, Isabella, no evil can touch you? And then he simply wasn't there anymore. Nicholas found he was only mildly curious. He knew Sarimund had simply vanished, impossible, yet it was so. Ican do the same thing, he thought. Here in the Pale I can do the same thing. Here in the Pale I can do anything.

He said to the spot where Sarimund had stood but a moment before, 'Captain Jared is at Wyverly Chase.'

They heard Sarimund's voice as a sigh in the still air. 'What a grand man he was. He was so very sorry he could not pay the debt, but it was not to be; time had shifted on itself. And so the dreams came to many firstborn sons, and generations passed, all waited for the right time. When the two of you were finally united, Captain Jared wanted to see both of you, learn what you were about. He tells me you will succeed. But his magic is now as weak as a flicking flame in a high wind. Alas, he cannot even sing as he used to.'

The great dragon bowed his head to them and sang in a sweet high voice, 'My son would like to burn you to your toes, my lord, but he swallowed his flame since it is forbidden that he expel fire until he has reached his maturity. The penalty is grave enough to make even an immature dragon consider carefully. I was pleased he was able to show some restraint. Unfortunately, his mother also believed it would be great sport. It is difficult to chastise her, for she is very quick to violence. I, however, am a god. I have knowledge none other have, dragon or man; I have visions that would blind others. I know what is and what could be. I am an extension of the Great Wizard. I am here and I am now, and will always be here. Let us go.'

Sarcasm rolled out of Nicholas's mouth as he rolled his eyes. 'You know 'what is and what could be.' Ah, I wish to take lessons in magic speak.'

Taranis's eyes whirled madly. The ground shook. 'Perhaps first, you should learn to sing properly.'

Rosalind said, 'He is right, Taranis. Perhaps when this is over you can give us instruction. But now, what are we to do?'

Taranis landed beside them and the earth shook beneath his weight. He lowered his great head and sang, 'Settle yourself between my magnificent scales and hold on tightly.'

After Nicholas and Rosalind managed to climb upon his back, he sang, 'That's right, hold yourselves steady.' He lifted himself effortlessly into the night sky.

I am riding on a dragon's back, Rosalind thought. I am terrified and I wish to sing with the joy of it. Her soft white woolen skirts billowed, longer it seemed now, billowing behind her. She and Nicholas clung tightly to Taranis's shining scales. His wings moved rhythmically, and her hair tangled about her head in the wind.

Rosalind tightened her hands together around Nicholas's waist. 'Look at all the snaking rivers and lakes. They appear, at least from up here, to bulge inside their boundaries, like a man's veins rising on his hands. Isn't that