The Fifth Magic (Book 1) (4 page)

She heard not a word uttered by those who'd come to brief her, and they clearly did not understand when her inner smile refused to remain hidden.

* * *

"Are you sure you don't want to just tell me?" Kendra asked. "Maybe you could save us the rest of this flight to nowhere. You could've mentioned we were going to the other end of the world."

Sinjin remained silent, unable to find the words. His mother had made him promise not to tell; she hadn't made him promise never to bring Kendra to her. He wasn't breaking his promise to her, but still he felt guilty. Valterius and Gerhonda sometimes slept while they flew, which made Sinjin too nervous to sleep. He and Kendra drank from the clouds and ate from the stores in their saddles. Their flight back from Terhilian had taxed their supplies, but the Drakon practice of storing extra food, herbs, and fluids within the saddle had proven wise. It had already served the Drakon well. Kendra had been the first to have been blown far off course by storms when on patrol. Sand bars and islands could sometimes be found, but the Drakon had learned it was best to be over prepared and to be as self-sufficient as possible when in the air.

"Really?" Kendra would ask every now and then as they continued to fly over near endless waters. Valterius flew based on Sinjin's general sense of direction, which he communicated through his knees. The dragon was extraordinarily well behaved, and Sinjin wasn't certain why, but he wasn't going to argue.

"Really?"

Even knowing she was incensed, Sinjin kept his head down and mouth shut. He wasn't certain of the Black Spike's location, but he knew they were getting closer. Kendra would just have to wait a little longer for the answers she sought. Then it appeared, little more than a dark spot on the horizon. The instant it came into view, Sinjin could feel it, tingling and pulling at him, at the same time making his instincts scream for flight.

"You're not taking us
there,
are you?" Kendra asked, seeing the lone structure rising from deep seas, the only solid thing visible in any direction.

Not trusting his voice, Sinjin remained silent. Their path pointed unerringly toward the Black Spike. Waves assaulted the fortress on one side, deep blue mountains capped in white slammed into stacked basalt stone. Somehow the unlikely fortress withstood the force, leaving huge troughs on the opposite side. Kendra kept silent as they drew closer.

Sinjin guided Valterius to hover before the Black Spike, despite feeling a nearly irresistible urge to leave. "Let us in!" he yelled despite his better judgment. "Let us in!"

Nothing happened except wind gusts pushing Valterius away from the fortress.

"What is it, Sinjin?" Kendra pleaded, emotion coloring her voice. "Who is it? What have you been hiding from me?"

Anger burned within Sinjin. He hadn't asked for this. He could see no more reason to withhold this from his wife. It had been vastly unfair for his mother to ask this of him. It was a burden he could no longer bear. Using his pent-up emotion, he attacked the waters around the Black Spike. His attack was unimpressive, resulting in no visible effect.

Somehow, Kendra must have perceived it. "Sinjin, no!" she said.

He'd come too far. He'd let his anger grow to a conflagration, and he needed to release it before it consumed him. Using what his mother had taught him, he looked at the problem from a different angle. Was there a way to use nature to his advantage? It took a moment before he realized there was.

With each towering wave crashing into the fortress, driven by the growing wind, deep depressions were created. These alone came close to revealing the entrance. If he were to add his energy to the wind and push even larger waves into the stronghold, it might be easier than trying to pull the water out of the way. Dragging in a deep breath, he drew energy from the Staff of Life, Koe, and the now frigid air around them.

"Stop, Sinjin! Please, stop. I don't need to know. We can go home now!"

Her words were lost to him. Comets whispered of their power, enticing him. The energy flowed through him as he had always wished it would; only it didn't feel at all like he'd imagined it. Drawing the air toward them, he fed the waves and made them taller, stronger, and more devastating when they struck the fortress. The mighty monolith swayed in concert with the waves.

Then he saw the entrance and pointed. Kendra looked back as if he were crazy; then she shrugged and urged Gerhonda downward.

"No!" Sinjin screamed, knowing the entrance was not yet clear enough to safely traverse. Much more had been visible when he and Valterius had last been there; right after his mother had made him swear to never tell anyone she still lived. Gerhonda showed her courage by swooping into the blackness only slightly darker than the obsidian stone surrounding it. Sinjin waited. Valterius was poised to follow, and he dived before Sinjin was ready. A monstrous wave crashed on the Black Spike just before Valterius thrust himself toward the still emerging portal. Cold overwhelmed all other sensations. Valterius swam deeper at the same time the water receded. The dragon swam as quickly as he could, knowing the water would return with deadly force. It roared up behind them, slamming cold air against Sinjin's back. They were thrust upward toward jagged stone formations, which supported the dock and stairs above.

Narrowly avoiding lethal and unforgiving stone, Valterius and Sinjin broke the surface a moment later. He sputtered and gasped for breath. Kendra sat on the dock next to Gerhonda; neither appeared pleased.

"Were you trying to kill yourself?" Sinjin asked before he could think better of it.

"You pointed at the entrance," Kendra said. "Far be it from me to disobey your orders."

"That certainly wasn't an order," Sinjin said, but he was cut off by a deep and guttural growl that made Sinjin's bones vibrate.

"You are not welcome here," a voice deeper than his mother's usual voice said. It was louder and more powerful than any human voice alone. "You have come uninvited."

"I cannot keep this boiling secret any longer!" Sinjin cried. "I have kept my word, and I've told no one. But I can put my wife off no longer. She deserves to know, and I deserve a life without secrets. It's tearing us apart."

The silence was heavy with anxiety. Kendra showed signs of shock, realizations, perhaps even regret. "I don't need to know," Kendra said. "I'm sorry. I didn't understand."

Again the deep growling made Sinjin's teeth hurt, even in the following silence. It was a trial of the soul. He wanted to give his wife the respect she deserved and still be a good son; that last thought hurt physically. No one wanted to be a bad son or daughter, but all felt that shame at some point or another. For Sinjin, it was intensified. He knew there would be consequences. He didn't know yet what they would be, but the world was falling apart anyway. How could this make things any worse?

"Kendra must know," he said. "She must know what it took to make me keep secrets from her. Too much has happened, to many feelings hurt because I made a promise I shouldn't have made."

"No, Sinjin. Stop. Please don't," Kendra said. "I'm so sorry. I could not see your pain."

"This ends now," he said, more determined about this than anything he'd ever done in his life. Though he hated to stand up to his mother, she needed to respect his marriage.

"He's right," came his mother's voice, and the sound of it made him cry. So many emotions washed over him as she spoke, he could only weep. "I asked you to keep my most precious secret. It was too much to ask; I knew it when I asked it of you. There is a kind heart in you, and I do not fault you, but I had hoped you would last a while longer.

"How did you survive?" Kendra asked Catrin, her face gone pale.

"Kyrien and the feral queen mated. It was a violent affair. It took quick thinking and ingenuity to keep me from drowning but we survived."

"I'm sorry," Kendra whispered, not looking at Sinjin.

"Is it enough?" Catrin asked, looking pointedly at Kendra, who shrank under the Herald's glare. "The less you know, the less dangerous you are to me. By coming here, you've already risked much."

"War is coming," Sinjin said. "Trinda and Allette have allied themselves and threatened the Council of the Known Lands."

"I know," Catrin said. "All the more reason you shouldn't be here. You risk everything I've done."

"I'm sorry," Sinjin said, guilt replacing his rage. "Come with us," he finally said. His heart would never forgive him if he didn't ask.

Pain flashed in Catrin's eyes. "I can't."

"What do you mean, you can't?" Sinjin asked, his voice involuntarily taking on a whining quality even he hated.

"Don't make me tell you why. It's bad enough I've had to reveal this much. You will both just have to trust me. Can you do that?"

"Yes," Kendra said with a sniff.

Sinjin took longer to respond. "I want my mom back."

"I would come with you if I could but I cannot. Forgive me, my son," Catrin said, her voice wavering.

Sinjin turned back to Valterius with unshed tears in his eyes, the strength of his soul all that held them back.

"I've always been there with you, my son, even if you could not see me."

The look Sinjin gave her made it clear he didn't want to hear her words.

"Think back and you'll know my actions, for I am the wind."

There were no more words spoken before Catrin raised her hands and with the full power of the true Herald of Istra, she held back the raging seas and provided an opening large enough to fly through. Valterius wasted no time, and Gerhonda touched the tip of his tail, she followed so closely. Both clearly remembered their entrance into the Black Spike. Once clear, the waters rushed back in to fill the void, and his mother was once more lost to him. He was no closer to understanding why. "I'm sorry," were the only words he could find.

"So am I," Kendra said. "So am I."

Chapter 4

Suffer the young. They know not yet their ignorance and frailty.

--Madra of Far Rossing

* * *

Within Dragonhold, it was easy to forget the outside world existed. News barely penetrated the mountain fortress and Trinda's security. Even if it did get inside, most news traveled slowly and to only those the source trusted. Some talkative folks disappeared. Strom didn't believe the stories offered. Certainly people could fall into the river and be swept out, but it stretched the imagination, especially since those missing did not work near the river. Dragonhold was the largest single hold on all of Godsland, and people did not just end up somewhere they didn't belong for no reason.

Sitting across from him, Osbourne grimaced. "I had hoped things would one day get better. If I listened just to what Trinda told us, I'd think they had, but the word from the Vestrana continues to be nothing but grim. I almost feel bad staying in here."

"I know," Strom said, checking over his shoulder, wanting to be certain they were alone. Those words in the wrong ears could get people killed.

"I miss Cat," Osbourne continued. "She might not have always known what to do, but she always managed to decide on something and set the course. Now I spend half my time trying to figure out if I'm doing the wrong things."

Strom just grunted and picked at a metal splinter lodged under his skin. He barely felt it, his hands desensitized by his profession. Swinging a hammer and beating metal into shape had its benefits, his powerful muscles among them, but there were also drawbacks. He'd been told his hands were as smooth as a cat's tongue, which was not something all ladies could overlook. Working with glass had left Osbourne with hands not much better though less rough.

Finally Martik arrived, slipping into Strom's chambers. There was plenty of room, but the engineer pulled a stool close. "Had to circle back twice," he said. "Kept running into people. It's unlikely Chase will make it."

Strom and Osbourne both nodded, knowing it was better not to give anyone reason to watch them more closely than they already were. Trinda knew they were loyal to Catrin, and they, along with many others in the hold, were surreptitiously watched.

"Things outside are happening fast," Strom said. "I'm betting Sinjin needs a smith, a glassmaker, and an engineer."

"You always were one to get straight to the point," Martik said.

"I don't think I'll be all that much help in either case," Osbourne said. "Not much glass can do to help."

"You undervalue your skills," Martik countered.

Osbourne didn't respond.

"The only thing keeping me here are the wonders of this keep," Strom said. "There's more here than meets the eye, and
she's
up to something. Not sure what yet, but she's downplaying this. I can tell by the way she watches."

"What are you working on, anyway, Martik?" Osbourne asked.

"No one is allowed to speak of it, so don't say anything of this to anyone," Martik said.

Osbourne gave him a look indicating that was obvious.

"There's a stone wheel as tall as fifty horses standing on top of one another, and perhaps just as wide, though we can only see one side of it; the rest is embedded in the mountain itself."

"And?" Strom asked.

"Beyond the fact that I can't figure out how it was made, I cannot imagine what purpose such a gigantic mechanism could serve. I know this wheel is not part of what made the keep move and hasn't budged for perhaps thousands of years. That's what she wants me to fix."

"So you're fixing a machine you don't understand so it can fulfill its purpose, which you also don't understand. Sounds like a great idea. What could go wrong?"

"I know it sounds crazy, but I'm pretty sure Trinda knows exactly what this thing does, and I'm betting she's counting on it for something. I just don't know what."

"Can you sabotage it?" Strom asked.

"Not easily," Martik said. "This thing can take anything I can throw at it. The best way to keep it nonfunctional would be to never try to fix it. She's watching, though, and I don't think it would take long for her to catch on."

"It's not worth the risk," Strom said. "Maybe the best way to keep it from being fixed would be to remove you from the equation."

"It would buy you some time," Martik said. "But I've already had to explain to my best men how to get the job done. They're down there working on it as we speak."

"Still," Strom said. "You're the real brains behind it. Without you, they are bound to be delayed at the very least." It was clear Martik was reluctant to leave, and Strom was intrigued by what possible purpose this mechanism could serve. Knowing Trinda was trying to hide her interest made him think fixing it would be a huge mistake. The child queen had proven a capable leader, and her edicts were mostly palatable, but they were edicts nonetheless. The fact that the news from the outside world was so different from what the people of the Godfist were being told by Trinda and those loyal to her was reason enough to have doubts. "How long until you can be ready to go, Osbo?"

"Glass doesn't travel well," Osbourne said. "I can be ready within an hour."

Strom nodded, his friend was nothing if not practical.

"How long until you can be ready, Martik?"

"I could leave straight from this meeting with a clear conscience," Martik said.

"Good," Strom said. "I think the time has--" The rest of the sentence never left his lips. A mighty banging at the door made all three jump from their chairs. After taking a moment to breathe and gather his wits, Strom moved to the door. Osbourne and Martik did what they could to appear normal, but that somehow made their guilt and anxiety even more obvious. There was nothing to be done about it, as the determined banging rang out once again. "What is it?" Strom asked when he opened the door, trying to act angry rather than afraid.

"We've come for the engineer," said a deep voice, and the plumed helm of Trinda's elite guards preceded a face Martik recognized. Keenan was a good man but entirely devoted to Trinda and entirely too proficient with his weapons. There would be no leaving now--at least not yet.

"We'll have to finish our game another time," Martik said to Strom and Osbourne before following Keenan and another guard away from Strom's quarters.

"That went well," Osbourne said.

* * *

Dragonhold had been in the dark for eons until Trinda Hollis arrived. Benjin and Wendel may have rediscovered the fortress, and Catrin began cleaning her up, but Martik knew it was Trinda Hollis who breathed life back into this magnificent hold. For that reason, he could not fully dislike the girl. She had done some positive and amazing things, and had recently taken mercy on Master Edling by allowing him to leave his cell. Any threat he posed was long gone, and Martik wasn't certain how much of a kindness she had granted the man, but at least he was free from his cell. It had to be an improvement, except that many would be given their chance to seek vengeance.

Behind him stood a slope made from an uncountable number of hewn stones. High above, the mound stretched from valley wall to valley wall, forming a sort of bridge, which Sinjin, Brother Vaughn, and Trinda had used to escape the demons years before. A giant's bones had been found not far from where Martik stood. They had been picked clean. The light had chased many things away or left them to die without their favored darkness. Much of the hold was still dark, and Martik suspected there were things hiding in the shadows. It gave him the crawls.

Amber crystals, far larger than any natural specimen he'd ever seen, shed a jaundiced light on the immense stone wheel he faced. Around the wheel was a city created in a way no one could guess. There were no straight lines--anywhere. The place was all curves, imitating nature's gracefulness and including symmetry and patterns Martik had seen in the world around him. Men had been exploring the city for weeks. It appeared no people had ever actually lived there. There was only the detritus left by whatever had lived in the darkness.

All that was just a distraction to Martik. The wheel beckoned him. It was a puzzle waiting to be solved, and he was the perfect person to solve it, yet he had to question his motivation when Trinda was the beneficiary. Whatever mighty tool or weapon the ancients had left them, he would be delivering it into the hands of one plotting for war. That did not sit lightly on his gut. He didn't have much choice but to guide his crew closer toward freeing the giant wheel. When the crew retired for the day, he would make good his escape along with Strom and Osbourne. Together they would find their way to the Firstland. It all felt like a crazy dream, far from what his childhood on the family farm had prepared him for. In other ways, that life had prepared him for everything. It had taught him to be a problem solver, and that was what he did best.

His men struggled with mining tools to clear the debris from the wheel, and progress was painfully slow. They had originally thought the job would be easy since everything had been laid out for them. The wall leading up to the stone wheel was taller than three men, but it had circular holes alternating from side to side, providing toeholds for easy climbing. They soon found the rock cylinders strewn across the valley floor. Each one appeared to have been cut to fit within the holes along the base of the wheel, but his men had been able only to get them to slide part of the way into the holes. This had created a convenient ladder and platform once a few planks were added. From that point, they had all been grateful for the holes and cylinders but paid them little more mind.

Martik took Wendel Volker's advice and looked at the entire construction from a different perspective. Where else were there cylindrical holes within Dragonhold? he asked himself. It didn't take long to think of the water channels. Nowhere else, though, did they find these stone plugs. He wondered if perhaps these were the by-product of cutting the holes, but that still didn't explain why they were found only there. Near the bottom, one rung looked out of place. It was too low to be useful as a step, which made Martik further question its purpose. The stone cylinder wiggled free without much effort. The first thing Martik realized was the cylinder was made of a darker stone than the stone in which the shafts had been bored. These stone plugs had been made for a purpose, and Martik was feeling more and more confident that purpose was not to act as a ladder or platform.

Using his knife, he checked inside the circular depression and found it quite thoroughly clogged. After working at it for a while, he managed to clear the channel, and as he lay there breathing, a breeze cooled his skin. It wasn't emanating from the channel but rushing into it. It had to be!

Grabbing the stone cylinder, he wiped it as clean as he could and slid it into the channel. It was a nearly perfect fit; there was just enough play to allow the cylinder to slide in. When only a couple hand widths protruded from the hole, the shaft moved on its own. There was a sucking sound followed by a thud. Just enough shaft remained exposed to allow Martik to pull it back out. It resisted at first, but then came free with a sucking whoosh. Nothing else happened. He inserted it once again, and the suction pulled the shaft back, firmly locking it into place. This was it.

One of Trinda's guards was watching him a little too closely, and Martik realized his thoughts must have been written on his face. He had to make the decision in that moment whether or not to reveal what he'd found. Though part of him worried over the consequences, Martik could not resist.

"You men come down from there! And bring the planks!" he shouted to the crew, and the guard gave him a look that said he knew Martik was a traitor. It took much of the fun from what Martik was about to do. "You might want to get Trinda," he said to the guard.

"
Queen
Trinda," the man said. "And you don't want to test it first? You want me to drag the lady down here on your hunch?"

"Are you saying I should start the wheel turning without her here?"

The man glared at him for some time. Martik's crew was reaching the bottom of the stair. Finally he sent another guard with word for Trinda. He specifically did not look at Martik after that, which was not such a terrible result. It would take some time for Trinda to get there, but there was still work to be done.

"Remove the ladder stones, starting at the top. Hand the stones down and carefully stack them with the others," he said. "Do you understand?"

"Yes," Bradley said.

He was a good man whom Martik and Chase trusted. Though he normally served as a part of Trinda's guard, he'd been assigned to assist Martik in his efforts. Their friendship was no secret.

Martik stepped away from what he no longer considered a ladder; it was a lever, a gate, or maybe
switch
was the better word. The work proceeded more slowly than Martik would have liked, and he wondered why he had even opened his mouth. Sometimes his temper and ego got the better of him, and he reminded himself to keep his emotions under control. "Emotion destroys what logic builds," his father had always said. "Martik knew there was a place for emotion in his life, but he took his father's point: it could rule or ruin your life if not kept in check.

When Trinda arrived, she was carried by a well-muscled guard. She sat in his arms as if he were a throne, and the man did his best to descend loose stone slope with grace. There was a dangerous look on her face, and Martik hoped he was right. If not, his ego could have gotten him into serious trouble.