Book 2, Chapter 3                                                                                     

A heavy desperation weighted down her back and shoulders.  Alaysa turned over and sat cross-legged on the rocky shoreline.  Janek sat staring out into the river, his chest barely moving.  Blood had begun to return to his face but his eyes remained distant and unmoving.  Occasionally, a grimace of pain flashed across his features but he seemed to have blocked out his surroundings.  This was the second time they had bonded.  And Alaysa had nearly killed Janek.

Alaysa drew her knees up to her chest and lowered her head so that no one could see the tears pouring down her cheeks.  They flowed without control.  Alaysa couldn’t stop the overwhelming sadness. 

“The Lady is cold.” Darsis spoke and Alaysa realized her body had begun to shiver violently.

A blanket was placed around her shoulders.  Cool hands touched her left foot.  She looked up.  Kir knelt by her ankles, a roll of white cloth lay on the stones beside him.  His eyes met her’s for a brief second, then he looked down again.

“I don’t think it’s broken,” he muttered, slowly moving the joint.

Alaysa lowered her head again.  The tears wouldn’t stop flowing.  Kir could do what he wanted.  She had decided to leave.  She would give Darsis back the Lightfire and go away.

Darsis crouched down beside her.  “This will pass.”

She didn’t acknowledge his words.  It didn’t matter.  She didn’t have the strength to argue with him.  She would save what little strength she had left for leaving.

Kir lifted her other foot.  Pain shot through and she jumped.

“Sorry.” Kir began to wrap her foot with the bandage.  She noticed the other one had been thickly wrapped.  She wouldn’t be able to get her foot into her boots.

A cloud passed over the sun.  Fog drifted from the river onto the shore.  Several of her soldiers began to mutter.  Some drew their swords. Eric moved close enough that his leg nearly touched her shoulder.

Within moments, the fog had covered the shoreline and surrounded their group, filling in the spaces between the people until each could barely see his neighbour.  Lilting music drifted through the air.

Alaysa felt the warm, dry air caress her face.  Shapes began to form in the fog.  One stood just behind Kir.  Close enough Alaysa thought she could make out a face of shadowed eyes, a thin nose and small mouth.  The mouth opened and the music changed to joy.

“Do you hear it?” Kir spoke nearly in a whisper.  He had closed his eyes and lifted his face to the fog.

“Mmmhmmm,” Eric swayed on his feet.  He too had lifted his face, eyes closed.

Another figure stood hunched over Janek.  It lowered a hand to rest on Janek’s shoulder for a brief moment.  Alaysa noticed Darsis stood frozen in place, one foot forward as if trying to walk.  The figure lifted its hand, stood up and floated back into the fog toward the river.  Janek’s shoulders relaxed and his head drooped as if asleep.

The figure standing near Alaysa placed his hand over his left breast where Alaysa guessed his heart sat if he had a heart and nodded his head once.  She smiled and watched as his features began to dissolve into the fog.

Once the figures had lost their form, the fog drifted back to the river and floated up stream. Everyone else seemed to wake as if from a pleasant dream.  Only Darsis let out an angry growl as he rushed to her side.

“What did they do to you?”

 “Nothing.”  Alaysa stood, gingerly balancing on her sore ankles.  She grabbed Kir’s shoulders for support.

“It nearly touched you.” Darsis ran to Janek.  “I saw it touch you.  What did it do?”

Janek shrugged.  “I felt very sad and then the sadness was gone.”

Alaysa noticed her sadness had disappeared, too.

Frustrated, Darsis waved his arms about in the air.  “Then what did they want?”

“To say thank you.”

Everyone turned to look at Alaysa.

“But they kill people.  They…”  Darsis’s arms kept waving in the air, Alaysa noticed.  She fought an urge to giggle.

“Darsis, let it go,” Janek moved up to stand beside Alaysa.  He put an arm around her waist and she leaned against him.

“Did everyone get out of the water?” Alaysa asked Eric.

Eric nodded. 

“No one’s sick?”

Eric shook his head this time.  “It’s not right that you should be protecting us.”

She smiled, again.  “It’s just the way it happened.  If Janek hadn’t taken me upstream.  If I hadn’t gone for a swim just then.  There will always be a lot of if’s.  Besides, you saved my life.  I owe you.”

“Then we’ll just have to keep one-upping each other.”  He glanced around at the crowd of soldiers.  “The Lady is fine.  Let’s break camp. Maybe we can find a village so the Lady doesn’t have to spend another night in the open.”

“Eric, a rider should be sent to the Emperor to warn him about the plague in the river,” Alaysa said.

“Already done,” he said, “The rider should be there just after midday.”

 As the guards ran back to the camp, Janek gave Alaysa back her clothes.  As she dressed, a guard came jogging down the beach pulling Alaysa’s horse.  Alaysa slid onto the saddle, being careful to not put much pressure on her ankles, and followed Janek and Kir back to the camp.   Darsis followed far behind as if he didn’t want to be part of her group but he also didn’t want to be separated from her.  Janek noticed her constant glances over her shoulder.

“Did he, uh, do anything to you?” he said, jerking his head over his shoulder.

Alaysa shook her head.  “No.  Nothing.  Why did you let him go into the water?”

“He’s immortal.  He was the best choice.  Did you think we let him go on purpose?”

“I just want to make sure everyone remembers we need him.”

“We don’t have to be reminded,” Janek muttered.  “We know how valuable he is but we, and I mean all of us, still don’t trust him.  He may have his use but he still has his own agenda.  Remember Saiven.”

“It’s hard to believe she can be brought back to life.  I mean, what will she use as a body? Zaren had destroyed it after he had trapped her soul in the pedalmas.”

“Who had ever thought a goddess could be destroyed?”

“Darsis never mentions her, does he?”

Alaysa shook her head.

“You don’t think he’s forgotten…?”

“Could you forget about the woman you loved?” 

As they approached the camp, Alaysa noticed a lot more sideways glances her way.  Eric walked past and as she leaned over her horse’s neck, he stopped.  “Why are the guards trying so hard to not look at me?”

Eric smiled.  “They’ve never seen you use the Lightfire before.  They don’t know what to make of you.”

“Me?”

“Yes, the stories described the Ladies as being more like gods than mortals.”

“They think I am a god now?” Alaysa studied the soldiers.  “I’m still just me.”

“None of us can hold the Lightfire, nor call upon the gods.”

“I’m just glad I could ask Oseanus to help.  We could have all died.  As it is right now, I’m not sure how much of the plague I stopped.  More could be on its way.”

Eric grinned. 

“What?” she asked.

“It hasn’t sunk in yet, has it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Just who you are?  You are the Lady of the Lightfire.  You hold one of the most powerful gifts inside your body.  You will save Pen’nBru.  And all you can think about is helping the few people who live downstream from here.”

Alaysa looked down at the reins in her hands.  So much had happened to her, she had never really thought about what it all meant.  The Lady of the Lightfire, using the star of the gods to walk on the Dead Lands, kill the plague and return life to the soil, so that the people could return to their homes.

Within minutes the guards had finished packing up the camp.  They rode single file through the forest until near midday, they crossed plains filled with tall, waving grass.  The trail led onto a two-rut road.  Small farms dotted the landscape and the occupants came out to watch as they passed by.  Three generations seemed to live together.  Tired, aged beyond their years, the mother and father, would stand back in the shade of the cabins.  Younger adults, often clutching hands of children, came close to the gates.  At first, they seemed to stare without comprehension at the Emperor’s guards.  But often it was one of the children who would notice Alaysa and then excitedly point her out to the rest of the family.  Alaysa would smile and wave and the children would run around in dizzying circles.  The adults would smile and wave back.

While moving through a cluster of cabins whose gates had been planted close to the road, a young girl dashed out among the horses straight to Alaysa.  The horses scattered away from the child who ran around legs taller than she.  The girl grabbed hold of Alaysa’s pant leg.

“Show me!  Show me!” she cried out.

Alaysa stared at her, not knowing what she meant.

“The flower!” she said, staring at Alaysa’s neck.  “The mark of the gods.”

            Alaysa let the tied reins drop around her horse’s neck and stared down at her hands.  The child wanted to see the flower.  Alaysa felt her skin crawl.  The flower had scarred and cut her skin, twisting beneath her flesh like a worm crawling through dirt.  Alaysa always wore long sleeves and high necked shirts to hide the flower.  It made her feel ugly and unwelcome.

            A group of children now clustered around her horse.  They waited in silence.  Alaysa looked up in panic at Janek.  He raised an eyebrow and nodded his head.  He would not help her out of this situation. Alaysa didn’t know if she could accept the rejection from the children when they ran away screaming because of the nightmarish sight of the living plant embedded in her skin.

            “Please, Lady,” the little girl said.  Her eyes begged to be filled with hope.  She reached one thin, bony arm farther up on Alaysa’s leg and clutched the fabric as if she would use all her strength to hold Alaysa back.

            Alaysa felt tears stinging her eyes.  “It is not pretty,” she said as she shrugged off her jacket.  Then she rolled up the sleeves on her blouse.  Might as well get it over with.  Alaysa looked at the little girl.  Wide, bright green orbs traced up Alaysa’s arm to her neck and then met her own eyes.  The little girl sighed and turned to other children.  “It is she,” she said loud enough for all and looked back up at Alaysa.  She beamed with a smile wide enough to split her face.  Her eyes shone.  The other children drew forward and started to laugh.  Alaysa felt relief flood her body.

            A man hobbled forward, leaning heavily on a stick.  He raised his hand and horses moved out of his way until he stood behind the girl.  He studied Alaysa through eyes just slits.  When he finally spoke, his voice sounded like the quietest of winds whistling through the trees.  Alaysa had to lean forward to hear him.

            “I did not think I would live to see the last Lady,” he said.  “They all believed the stories were just that: stories.  Rumours to give us hope.”

            “What made you believe?” she asked.  She, too, had been raised on the stories of the other Ladies and never really thought the Ladies had been real once.  Not until now.

            “I have always believed,” he said.

            “Granda’s granda was one of them,” the little girl said and pointed to her Lightfire Guards.

            Alaysa heard her guards mutter amongst themselves.  Eric dismounted and worked his way back to the old man.

            “Your family belonged to the Lightfire Guards?” Eric asked.

            He jerked his head once up and down.  “Yes, lived and fought for generations.  After the last failure, the soldiers broke apart.  Returned to their homes.  They knew it would be another two centuries before the next Lady showed up.”  He glanced at the riders.  “How many of you can claim you were born at the Keep?  How many of your fathers? Your fathers’ fathers?”

            Alaysa had never before considered where her Lightfire Guards had come from.  She had thought they had always lived there.  But now, they all looked uncomfortable.  Did not meet the old man’s eyes.  All except for Eric.  Eric’s father had been a Lightfire Guard.  Sir Jackson had been the one to find Alaysa. And he had died protecting her.

            “What does this matter?” Alaysa asked.  She didn’t care whether the Guards were new recruits or had been at the Keep since birth.

            The old man’s voice dropped suddenly.  His eyes opened wide and clear.  “Because My Lady, you will have traitors among you.  Renites.  Lord Zaren’s own spies.”

* * * * *

            “We shouldn’t stay here,” Kir muttered as he dropped his bedroll on the ground.  It rolled close to the fire.

            Alaysa reached out and stopped it before it got close to the flames.

            “Yes,” Janek said, “None of us want to spend another night outside.  It’s too dangerous.” Janek crouched beside Alaysa.

 “Who would have thought he still knew about the old magic?” Kir looked toward the village. 

“His name is Claren,” Alaysa picked up a stick and poked at the fire.  Embers rose and fluttered in the light breeze.

“I remember his name,” Kir said.  “I just wish I had brought along the records to check his identity.”

“You don’t believe who he says he is?” Janek said.

“Why hasn’t he come forward sooner?” Kir asked.  “Alaysa had been at the Keep for nearly a month.  If he had suspicions of the Renites infiltrating the Lightfire Guards, then why didn’t he come forward?”

“He wouldn’t have made it past the front gate, if he was right,” Eric said, carrying an armful of wood.  He dropped it beside the fire and crouched down beside Janek.  “If I were a Renite, I would surely know about the old magic and would stop the old man from coming anywhere near.  No, I can see why he waited for us to come to him.”
            “Eric, why was it so important for him to ask who of the Guard have been living at the Keep for many generations and who are new?”

Eric ran a hand through his curly red hair.  “I had thought what they said about us was only made up to frighten anyone, especially the Renites, into not trying to join our ranks.”

“You mean the blood markers?” Janek said.

“Blood markers?” Alaysa glanced at the scars along her arms where the daisy poked through.  Tiny red dots formed whenever the flower grew agitated and scraped open sores.

“Shortly after the massacre at the Keep when your birth mother died, Alaysa, which we call the First Failure,” Eric began, “it was guessed the only way Lord Zaren had known about the plan was that he had planted a spy.  Since everyone except Darsis had been killed in the massacre, the Darsinnians supposed the spy had died, too.  So the Darsinnians set about to find a way to stop anymore infiltration.”

Eric began to roll up his left sleeve.  On his forearm, the tattoo of a circle with a sword and a star in its centre appeared.  “After a year or so, they devised this.”

“A tattoo?” Alaysa asked.

“It’s not the tattoo that is important,” Kir said.

Eric sighed.  “Will you let me tell the story?”

“Well don’t take 1000 years to tell it,” Kir muttered and sat down on the ground.

“He’s right,” Eric continued.  “It wasn’t the tattoo that was important, it was the ink.  But I am a little ahead of myself.  While the Darsinnians were doing the research, one of the priests began to ask a lot of questions.  Where the girls had been sent.  Where the priests had hidden Darsis.  You see, no one but Darsis knew the girls had been sent ahead in time.  At first, he was told he didn’t need to know this information.  But he became quite persistent.  He eventually did find out where Darsis had been hidden and the other Darsinnians stopped him in time from harming Darsis.

“The captain of the Guard took great satisfaction in learning much about the Renite spy through the interrogation.  And the Darsinnians discovered what they needed to create the test.  You see, Zaren chose his spies from a group of nomads who lived on his estate.  These nomads never married outside their community so they had the same genetics.  The Darsinnians created a virus which they put in the tattoo’s ink that would react when it mixed with their blood.”

“Like an allergic reaction?” Alaysa asked.

Kir huffed.  “Worse.  The spy would have wished the plague got him instead.”

Alaysa shivered.  “But why did Claren insist we go no further until he has performed his magic?”

“He thinks the priests did not add in the virus to the ink.  He says the virus comes from a plant that grows nearby and he hasn’t seen any priests collecting the plant in the last decade.”

“And if we find a spy?”

“He won’t be interrogated,” Eric said.  “We don’t have the time.”

A young boy ran up.  “Claren says to come.  He is ready.”

They rose and walked back to the village.  A line up of ten soldiers stood outside one of the cabins.  Most stood calm and still.  A few shuffled from one side to the other. None looked suspicious or nervous.  Maybe the Renites hadn’t planted a spy after all.  Maybe Claren was wrong, Alaysa thought.

Tables had been set with food between some of the cabins. Eric veered off and ducked inside the cabin.  The rest of her Guards had taken up all but one of the tables.  They picked at their food and spoke in quiet voices.  No one wanted to even consider the fact they had been living with a Renite spy.

As they approached the empty table, a shadow darted across the clearing.  Children ran screaming for their mothers.  Adults ran for the shelter of their homes.  Some of the guards rose to their feet, swords drawn.  Janek and Kir moved closer to Alaysa.  Eric rushed outside the cabin and stopped.  All looked to the sky.

A dragon, blue scales flashing, glided over the cabins once again, circled and landed on the road, the only space wide enough to handle his bulk.  He kept his wings spread, walked up to the gates and hopped over them.  Tilting his head this way and that, he studied the people huddled in their doorways.  Folding his wings tight against his body, he dropped to all four legs and sauntered toward the tables. The guards sat down as the dragon approached.  Alaysa walked out to meet him.

“Tay, you have been hunting?” she asked, speaking out loud even though it wasn’t necessary.  The dragon read her mind and responded by placing his thoughts among her own.

‘Hunting is poor.  Had to fly far.’

“This village doesn’t have much,” Alaysa said, her voice lowered.

‘A sheep or two will fill me.’

“Only if you are offered,” Alaysa said, “No disappearances, okay?”

‘How about one of those?’ he pointed his head at a group of children slowly inching their way forward.  ‘They make a lot of noise and smell.  One or two won’t be missed.’ 

‘Don’t even joke about that,’ Alaysa said.  ‘You were young once.  How would you feel if your mother had eaten you?’

‘Don’t think she didn’t try,’ Tay said, trying hard to hide a smirk.  ‘There are advantages to being small and thin.’

Alaysa shook her head.  She thought Tay was teasing her but she had met his mother, Maer.  She wouldn’t put it past the older dragon to eat her own children if she grew angry enough.  Maer had no conscience.  She did as she pleased no matter whom she hurt.

Tay lay down on the ground, curling his tail around his body but did not put his head down.  Instead, he stretched it out to Alaysa’s side and blew out a great blast of air.  Giggles erupted and Alaysa spun around.  The children had clustered behind her back.  One of them sat on the ground, brushing at his face.  As Alaysa stooped to lift him to his feet, the other children rushed at Tay and began to climb up his sides.  Tay grimaced.

‘Just one?’

Alaysa shook her head and returned to the table.

The tattoo process took longer than Alaysa guessed.  The sun had set and only half of the soldiers had been marked.  So far, no one had had any reaction to the virus.  She and the others had moved back to the fire as the sky had darkened.  Tay had risen, slowly Alaysa noticed, and with children sitting between his back ridges sauntered over to the fire and lay back down.

“Are you really a thousand years old?” the little girl, named Lizzie, said, looking directly at Alaysa.

“A…a thousand?” Alaysa asked.  She had never thought about it before.  Yes, she had been born a little less than a thousand years ago but she didn’t feel that old.  “I…I suppose I am.  But I am only really fifteen years old.  You see, Darsis brought me forward in time to here so I am not really so old.”

“What was it like when Zaren found you?” the girl asked.

“Were you scared?” a little boy asked.

“Or did you call upon your gods to help you?” another piped up.

“Tell us…”

“Tell us the story.”

“The story?” Alaysa said.  Stories were told about people long dead.  Great heroes and their adventures.  She looked hastily at Janek.

Janek leaned over.  “About you.  They want to know about you.”

Alaysa didn’t know what to say.  So much had happened to her but the wounds still hurt.  She didn’t want to retell the death of her parents and her friends.  “I don’t think I can.”

Lizzie looked downcast, tears brimming in her eyes.  Alaysa wanted to reach out to her.  Hold her close.  She so reminded Alaysa of her own two sisters, Issie and Janey.

Janek leaned forward until the fire lit his face.  “I will tell you the story of Alaysa, the last Lady of the Lightfire.  I will tell you how she came to be lost, then found.  How she has already died, not once, but twice.  How she has faced her enemy and survived.  I will tell you a story about courage, loss and victory. I will tell you a story which has only begun because the Lady sits here with you now and has so much more to accomplish.”

Alaysa stared at Janek.  She had never known him to speak out so before.  He had always been the quiet librarian.  All those years copying and reading books must have taught him how to be a storyteller.  She leaned back on her bedroll to listen to Janek tell her, no, their story.

A few hours later, when the fire had died to glowing embers and parents had come to collect sleepy children, Janek finished telling the story.  The children complained saying they had so many questions and they weren’t at all tired and the story couldn’t be finished.  Janek told them over and over, again, that he had told them as much as he could for now. 

Alaysa could barely keep her eyes open as she watched the children disappear into the dark.  Tay rolled onto his back and rolled in the dirt and promptly fell asleep.  Eric appeared out of the dark and sat down.  He rubbed his eyes, wearily.

“You found no one?” Alaysa asked.

He shook his head.  “We tattooed everyone who had been marked in the last 10 years.  They all passed.”

“That is good,” Alaysa said.  “I didn’t want to see anyone dying today.”

“Was Claren wrong?” Kir asked.  “He sounded so sure.”

“Why would he tell us we had a spy?” Janek asked.  “Why would he make us stay here when we could have been in Christentown by now?”

“Maybe that’s it,” Kir said, “Maybe he didn’t want us to go to Christentown tonight.”