CITY OF BRIDGES

23

Wyverns revisited

Leonie was chaffing to leave. Sometimes patience was not one of her best qualities. As soon as she felt able to be up and about, she pestered Styx for a plan to get them out of here before she started making her own.

At your service, was all he said in his brief visit.

She had become withdrawn after he exposed her origins to her. It wasn’t his fault, being the bearer of the news, and she berated herself for the frustration she couldn’t quell; Styx had enough to worry about, and didn’t need her being a burden.

“You still need to recover, child,” the healer protested when he heard of the pending departure. “Some of the internal injuries could recur if you are not careful.”

“I’ve had worse,” she growled. And I’ll give you some internal injuries if you call me child again! She fumed silently.

“If we stay here much longer, someone’s bound to notice,” Feiron pointed out. He had heard the growing noise from his adjoining room and came to assist. “We’ll have the temples and assassins after us again. We don’t want to be responsible for causing the rollos more trouble. I think fresh air will be what she needs for a speedy recovery, and a small – gentle – road trip would do her health wonders,” he argued.

“And yours.” Leonie bared her fangs at the healer. “If you get my meaning.”

“I’ll vouch for her care,” Feiron assured him.

The healer threw his arms up and pronounced her fit to go and do whatever she pleased. He packed his medicines and was out of the room within moments, muttering under his breath all the while.

“Thanks for that,” Leonie said.

“You’re welcome. I’ll be glad to leave too, but are you sure you’ve recovered sufficiently?”

“Believe me, I’ll live.” She began tentative stretching. “Styx assured me of that.”

“Is he prophetic?”

“Nope, but there are things I need to do and I can’t do much about it cooped up in this place. The sooner we’re out of here, the sooner we’ll get back to Delta.”

“And then?”

“I’d suggest you find another city to live in, because when I’m finished, there won’t be much of it left.”

“I see.”

“No, Feiron,” Leonie said, her voice icy. “No, you don’t see at all.”

Feiron went to pack his bags. He hadn’t seen her like this before and he wondered what Styx told her to make her so angry. No. Angry wasn’t the word. She was furious, but a controlled rage he had never seen in her before. He felt a short burst of sympathy for the poor individuals who would face her wrath.

True to his word, Styx began making arrangements to get Leonie and Feiron out of Qelay. While his fellow hroltahgs continued to ignore or block communication, other staff members were ready to do his bidding. Styx sensed now they responded more out of fear than anything else.

We will need to keep you both hidden, he explained. Reports have already been generated to indicate you both died in the attempted robbery. There is the hope interested parties will cease looking for you.

“I thought your kind couldn’t lie?”

We cannot. We have other people to do that for us.

“How do you plan on us getting out of here?”

You will both be smuggled across the lake on a barge after dark. Those assisting are totally trustworthy. Also, I have an apology to make. I am unable to accompany you to Delta, having been summoned by my elders.

“Can’t you ignore them, or at least postpone your return?”

“What’s that?” Feiron looked to Leonie, who then related the disappointing news.

I will escort you across the lake. However, you may be pleased to hear I have already arranged for more entertaining company – and they can protect you better than I.

“Wyverns?” she guessed, a smile on her face.

Correct. I hope you do not mind.

“I mind you not coming, but understand you have to do this. Seeing Philbert and the wyverns again will be nice though.”

The barge slowed, edging closer to the wharf. Dockhands hauled on the thrown ropes and secured them to the bollards once the vessel was pulled alongside. The gangplank was set and the unloading began.

“You lot, stow those crates and barrel in the back of the storeroom, and be careful. The rollos were explicit in their instructions, and you know they detect lies. If any damage happens, they’ll know who to come and see.” The overseer, arms as thick as thighs, spoke to them levelly. “And you know what I’ll do to you afterwards. “Everything else goes on the wagons. See to it.”

Long after the sound of the workers subsided, Styx pried off the top of the crate with his talons.

I am satisfied we are safe and unobserved.

“It’s about time. My legs have gone numb,” a muffled voice responded. Leonie pushed against the wooden slats that had been her prison since the morning. She stood and tentatively climbed out, her joints aching. “I hope it was worth it,” she groaned. After a bit of walking around to get the blood flowing, she started a slow series of stretches to ease the tension out her joints.

Your survival is worth much more than you can imagine.

“Not to me.” The normally clean rollo had slime and dirt all over him. “Why are you covered in mud?”

I could not be seen. The colouring can be managed, but these spikes leave no question as to who I am, therefore I went under.

“You can travel underwater? For how long?”

More or less indefinitely. I am able to absorb what I need from the water.

Feiron unfolded out of his barrel when Styx lifted the lid. “I’m certain all our woes will be rectified after a pot of tea.” He looked around the back of the warehouse, finding several dusty pots by the fireplace. “You did think of food?” he directed the question to Styx.

Of course. Another crate, a smaller one ‘floated’ across the room. Styx used his talons to pry the lid off, revealing the assorted contents and two backpacks. Ample supplies for your return trip. I trust we catered for your tastes?

Feiron noted the box of Tesakian Redleaf. “Excellent, and more than enough,” he stated after examining the contents. “Can I assume we have time before the next leg of our journey?”

We have several hours before we head off. The wyverns will meet us on the outskirts of the village.

“There better not be any more excursions through swamps,” she growled.

There is not.

Humming to himself, Feiron selected a few choice items and began preparations for dinner. “Leonie, would you do the honours?” He pointed to the fireplace.

“Sure.” A minute ball of flame instantly materialised and shot across the room.

“Is it me, or was that done differently?” Feiron noted.

“More controlled, I think you mean. With all the mental training, I’m able to use the power almost effortlessly.”

“Outstanding,” he said while she continued with her stretching. “Dinner won’t be too long.”

The sound of the southerly breeze through the treetops seemed like a constant sigh, and occasionally, Leonie spotted movement in the depths; the scurrying of a squirrel up a tree, or a bird searching for food. Breathing deeply, she thought how refreshing the scent of the forest was, though crispy cold.

“Smells much better than a swamp. And, no annoying insects. I could get to like this place.”

“What would Jade do without you?”

“Stress less I reckon.” Leonie grinned back at him.

Greetings, Leonie and Feiron.

The wyverns were still hidden by darkness, but it was obvious they knew of their presence.

“Here they come.” To Leonie’s acute hearing, their massive bodies moving swiftly through the air had a distinctive thrum. This was what she could hear now, getting louder and louder. Even with full knowledge of what it was, it was fearsome.

“How do you know? I thought it was the wind through the trees.” Feiron followed Leonie and Styx as they moved out from under the canopy of the trees, onto the ploughed field as three dark shadowy figures materialised in the gloom. Phil alighted nimbly off Dorn the moment her talons clutched the dirt.

“I was so hoping we’d meet up again,” he said, giving Leonie a quick hug, and slapping Feiron on the ‘back’.

“We feel the same.” Leonie looked pleased, though surprised at Phil’s exuberance. “Have you all been well?”

“Wyverns are rarely unwell.” Phil turned to her little companion. Useless as it was, to hide feelings from the hroltagh, Phil tried not to look distressed at the spikes protruding from the rollo. “Brave Styx, I hear you have been through hell and back in looking after our friends.”

You could say that to a degree. I believe I am still in ‘hell’, and awaiting to return eventually.

“You must tell me everything that has happened to you all in Qelay,” Phil said, still smiling.

I will leave that to Leonie and Feiron. I have a long way to travel. Styx turned to Leonie. He reached out a stubby, clawed hand.

As this was the first time she would physically contact him, she was unsure what to do. The others shrugged in their ignorance when she looked to them.

She reached out and clasped his paw. The smooth, hard ‘skin’ was like holding a pebble; pleasingly solid and smooth. The warmth surprised her.

This communication is solely between you and I, he thought to her. We owe you a great debt for the perils you have undergone to fulfil this task – and for what lays ahead – and for that, the elders are extremely grateful and anticipative. You have come a long way, both physically and mentally. I am soon to depart to Reenat, but will endeavour to keep in contact with you somehow.

Leonie thought her response. ‘I’m just glad it’s over, but it was interesting meeting you and your kind. Also, thank you for telling me about my… past.’

I just showed you how; the information was inside your mind. My last advice to you is to trust in yourself completely. I do not mean to constantly remind you, as I know it brings you discomfort on many levels, but I cannot assure you enough!

Leonie, you are a truly unique individual with huge untapped potential; the legacy of being ‘created’ from the genetic structure of several species. It is hoped the training you have undertaken is sufficient for you to tap the resource brimming within.

‘Sufficient for what?’ she thought.

For what is to come. Prophecy… your destiny.… No need to roll your eyes. You must learn to trust yourself implicitly – there is absolutely nothing – NOTHING – you cannot accomplish if you have the right attitude. You have to put your mind to it. It is that simple.

Leonie considered a reply. ’My job is done. Once back in Delta, I’ll probably keep doing what I do. Other than a few answers, life will be the same.’

Like it or not, events have already come into play. It will be easier for you if you accept these things.

‘Did it occur to you that the elders are also using you as a pawn in all these prophecies, like me?’

Of course. We do what we do. He released his clasp of her paw. Farewell all. With his final broadcast, he folded and rolled off into the night at speed, his spike churning up sods.

Leonie remained silent for a long time after his departure.

“-you okay?” Feiron was saying.

“Yeah. Sorry. Styx gave me another headache.” She looked at them, taking in the three wyvern heads towering above. “It’s is good to see you all again. Shall we go?”

“Most certainly. We can catch up on all the details back at the lair.” Phil brought out their flying jackets and once on, made sure they mounted correctly, even though it wasn’t too long ago since they’d ridden. “Let’s fly.”

The wyverns launched into the night and angled to the south and west. It was an uneventful journey. The wyverns glided most of the time, only occasionally flapping their wings to adjust height or course, making the flight almost leisurely.

Upon arrival at Hell’s Maw, they removed their packs and unsaddled the wyverns before heading inside to relax.

Late the next morning, the aroma of breakfast wafted through the lair. Leonie sauntered to the fire where Feiron was adding tea leaves to a pot of hot water, and Phil was scrambling eggs.

“Hello there,” he greeted her with a grin. “Look what friend Styx has provided.” Phil almost as exuberant as a small boy with a new toy, showed the box of Tesakian Redleaf. “I haven’t seen this much Redleaf since I was in the employ of the Tesak’i. Very expensive, I might add. Only the most affluent in Tesak could afford such a luxury.”

“Oh, we drank it all the time in White Cliffs. We had so much, half-pots were tipped out unfinished.” She burst out laughing at the crestfallen look on Phil’s face. “Sorry.” She patted him on the shoulder. “I’m joking. I reckon I was unconscious most of the time, and I hardly touched a drop.”

“Obviously you are in fine spirits. Your headache is gone now?” Feiron asked, handing her a cup. “What brought that on?”

She sipped the hot beverage before replying, blowing at the steam. “Styx. When he takes on a mission, he’s like a… a wyvern on a thermal; there’s nothing you can do to stop them.

It would be unwise to try, Dorn warned.

“He was quite insistent that I have an important role to play. When we parted, he drummed it into my head.”

“He has changed…”

“After what he’s been through, who could blame him.”

“Certainly not I, but I think his change is for the better. It makes me wonder though, and something you said earlier about none of us getting through this unscathed. If he changed so profoundly… what has happened to us?”

“Well—” Leonie accepted her breakfast from Phil. “I can use the power more easily. I’m also supposed to be better at ‘warding off’ any uninvited guests in my head.”

“No more possession?” Phil asked, handing Feiron his breakfast.

Leonie shuddered. “I hope so! What about you, Feiron. How have you changed?”

He shrugged. “That is yet to be determined. I have almost regained my shapechanging memory, so can hold most of my repertoire of shapes. Maybe something will show up eventually.” He put his plate down. “Leonie, I have something for you.”

“Oh?”

“You better close your eyes.”

“What’re you up to?”

“I’m about to do something I recall you saying you’d rather not see again,” he sounded jovial, almost quivering with anticipation. “I have only your best interests in mind.”

“Hss. Okay then.” She closed her eyes as requested. Hearing a wet, slurping sound – much like a boot being pulled out of thick mud – she realised what he was up to.

“Agh. That’s gross,” Phil gagged. “Better warn me next time, too.”

“My apologies. Leonie, you can look now.”

She turned. Her inquisitive look turned into a huge grin as soon as she felt the weight and shape of the wrapped package. “Feiron, you’re a wonder.” Her violet eyes lit up, whiskers quivering.

“I have my moments.”

Leonie unwrapped the package to reveal one of the grav-harnesses. “Surely they didn’t give you this?”

“Umm, no. Not really. What better place to hide it than within my body, which the rollo mind cannot penetrate.”

“I’m supposed to be the thief.” Leonie examined it closely. The harness looked in good repair, but she could see by the dull aura the crystal’s charge was negligible.

“I’m sure we can find another source of those crystals,” Phil offered.

“This’s fantastic.” Her whiskers twitched. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Your happiness will suffice. I see now there’s convenience in not being able to have one’s mind read. I think I may yet get over my lack of psionic ability.”

“I didn’t think you were so sneaky,” she commented.

“Maybe that’s what’s changed – you’re bringing out the worst in me?”

“There’s hope for you yet.”

“Others might disagree.” As he recounted how he’d smuggled the harness around the last few days, not daring to leave it in his room in case the chambermaid saw it. “I couldn’t say anything in case your thoughts gave the knowledge to the rollos.

“I think it’s high time you filled me in on what happened back there,” Phil suggested.

Feiron resumed his eating and started recounting the events at White Cliffs between mouthfuls. Leonie reluctantly put the harness down and finished her meal, adding her account of the details when required.

Phil sat back afterwards. “I think it’s amazing you are still with us. Have you been praying for ‘divine intervention’?”

“Not likely.” Leonie sipped her tea, rolling her eyes at the thought.

“Me neither,” Feiron said. “It must be as Styx stated; Leonie has a destiny to fulfil.”

“No one better mention destiny or prophecy again,” Leonie growled.

“And you?” Phil to Feiron. “What is your role in this?”

“Me?” he sputtered. “No idea. Jovial sidekick, I suppose.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure. These hroltagh foretellings are not trifling matters.”

“Add foretellings to the list!” Leonie drained her cup.

“Then you too have a role to play,” Feiron continued.

“Of course.” Phil bowed his head. “I’m your mode of transport.” A deep-throated rumble could be heard from above. “All of us, I mean.”

“Which leads to the next question—”

“When do we depart for Delta?” Phil chuckled. “Tomorrow morning should suffice. Depending on wind and weather, it should only take a couple of days. So, we’ll take food for three days just to be sure.”

After the breakfast dishes were cleared away they set about organising the supplies for the long trip, which kept them busy until lunch. While idly sipping her mushroom stew, Leonie examined the crystal from the grav-harness.

“Any ideas to charge it?” Feiron asked her.

Leonie looked at him suspiciously. “You developing a telepathic ability?”

He concentrated. “I don’t believe so,” he answered after a pause. “Unless you sensed something?”

She shook her head. “Crystals can recharge themselves as they absorb power around it, but it takes a while.” Leonie put her bowl down and gazed intently at the crystal. A short while later she slumped with fatigue.

“No good?” Feiron asked. Phil paused from eating to watch.

She winked and reached for the harness by her feet. “Let’s find out.” Sliding the crystal into the slot, she strapped the harness on and stood up. With a small twist, she turned the dial and her body rose off the sandy floor.

Philbert clapped in joy. “Excellent,” he said. “That solves that, but how did you do it?”

“It’s hard to describe.” She spoke as she floated to the ledges above. “It’s a bit like using the ring. I’ve got to relax and concentrate; to feel the energy around me, then pull it in carefully. It can’t be held for long.” She waved at a couple of inquisitive wyverns. “I wanted to store it inside the crystal. Recharging is a slow process so I drew it in slowly, releasing it slowly.”

Feiron sighed. “It’s a shame we illios do not possess these skills.”

“I reckon shapechanging is a great ability.” Leonie reduced the power to descend. She removed the harness and stowed it in a sack once on the ground. “But powershaping is different to what I can do. All I do is pull a bit in and put it in something; whether it be a ring or a crystal. To the power, it’s all the same.”

“Hmm. Oh well, we do what we do.” He shrugged.

Leonie swore under her breath. “Now you’re quoting Styx!”

As the sun set, all three of them were sitting on the outside ledge, watching the antics of their winged friend’s above the mouth of the volcano.

“Tell me something,” Feiron said as he passed around a wineskin. “When we were camping by the chasm and that fellow from the Woorin Brotherhood tried to fry us, you spoke a bit about powershaping. It seems there are two areas of lore of which I am ignorant; telepathy and use of the power. Phil, do you know any powershapers”

“I know of powershapers, but not personally, no. Not until now.”

“And you still don’t. I am not a powershaper.”

“You shape power, yes?”

“In a manner—”

“It was fireballs, wasn’t it, Feiron?” Phil turned to the illios.

“Several times. Quite powerful too.”

“And now she charges crystals.”

“I believe so.” Feiron nodded.

“Powershaper,” they said in unison with a chuckle.

Leonie sighed, scratching in the dirt. “Quite a while back, I came to the assistance of a young thief who was also a novice powershaper at the time. He’d obtained something from an associate. Unfortunately for him, he got caught and was about to experience a different aspect of the art – as a target. I happened to be in the area, so lent a helping paw. As thanks, and since I seemed to show an interest, he tried to teach me the rudiments of it. It takes concentration to focus the energy correctly.”

“Like we illios have to concentrate on keeping a particular form.”

“I guess so. They say there’s power all around us; stronger in some areas than others – leylines I think they call them – but only a few have the ability to tap into it directly. I can feel it, and see magical auras… and I’ve been able to for as long as I can remember. It helps in my work, but I can’t work spells, only this ring. All I can do is release it and recharge it. Without it, I can’t cast a thing. I wouldn’t want to anyway.”

“Why not?” Phil asked. “It all sounds fascinating.”

“Back when the Woorin brotherhood attacked us, one of them made a fatal error when he was about to cast a spell.”

Feiron grimaced. “He blew up.”

“When you draw power, it gets a ‘life’ of its own – a purpose, if you will. It’s got to go somewhere; do something. If you lose concentration, that’s what happens. I’d need a lot of convincing to want to even think about pulling that much power.”

“I think Styx has other plans for you.”

Axorg also saw something in you, and I can sense a change in you too. Dorn glided past them. Something that was not there previously. Your aura on the astral plane has strengthened considerably.

“I’m not sure what that means, but I’ll take your word for it.”

It means you have the ability to do many things, given the correct incentive and state of mind.

“That’s what Styx’s said,” she hissed in annoyance.

* * *