Cocking its head to the side, the dragon approached, low to the ground, its head now level and weaving in a hypnotic motion. It took one more step forward then stopped, looking up. A moment later, it was backing up the ravine as quickly as it could before turning and launching back into the sky. Catrin did not want to raise her head to see, but instinct made her look, and she nearly fell down in fear. Staring back was the face of the largest feral she'd seen, one she recognized from when it chased the Slippery Eel. This massive beast radiated terror, and Catrin raised trembling hands. The dragon struck, quick as lightning, and again Kyrien intervened. Dropping from the sky and flying between Catrin and the feral, Kyrien intercepted the strike with his side, and the regent dragon cried out in pain when the feral bit down.
Unleashing all the energy she could muster, Catrin sent fire and lightning at the feral's eyes. It arched back and released Kyrien from its deadly grasp, and Kyrien rolled away. Sensing movement behind her, Catrin lashed out at the giants, again going for the eyes. One managed to block the attack with a massive wrist guard, but another was struck full in the face and went down, leaving the third stuck behind its corpse.
Raising her arms for another attack, Catrin felt the air leave her lungs as Kyrien snatched her from the ground in his powerful claws.
This should not be! What have I done!
Catrin could almost feel the tears in his words, and she wept for her friend and for the fact that she was somehow the cause of his anguish.
Moving through the darkened halls within Dragonhold, Halmsa of the Wind clan was determined to learn as much as he could from Catrin, even if he could not learn it in person. Nothing in the prophecies ever said that she had to be there to teach them how to fly dragons. It seemed strange that something that had seemed so far away when he was a child was now here before him. There had always been a silent disbelief in the back of his mind that the things foretold would come to be, and now he was humbled. He had ridden a dragon, and now he was ready to try flying one. These ferals are feisty, he thought. It seemed like a challenge worthy of the Arghast.
Feeling like a thief within the hold, Halmsa searched for a room that he knew existed, yet he had few clues to its whereabouts. He knew that holes in its walls faced open air and that it must be along the outer walls of the keep, but still it eluded him.
A deep growl sounded nearby, and even its echo challenged Halmsa's courage. He reminded himself that brave men felt fear, but they did not let it make their decisions. Keeping to the shadows, he waited until the demon passed, this one sniffing the air as it went. Halmsa moved back toward the God's Eye, a thing he would not believe existed had he not seen it himself. Moving deeper into the mountain was contrary to his mission, but there were also more places to hide. He'd found nothing leading from the great hall, and this seemed a logical next step. The fact that it moved him away from those growls reinforced the decision.
His eyes had nearly adjusted to the darkness when a dim light appeared at the end of a descending hall. Quickly he moved closer, and when he reached a junction, he found another descending hallway bathed in a ruddy glow. Halmsa nearly shouted for joy, but he wisely kept his mouth shut. Moving toward the light, he found a room with two head-sized holes in the wall and beyond, open sky. Halmsa smiled despite his fear. He could not fail at this. This was the foretold time; he was certain of it. One of them had to step forward; one of them had to prove himself worthy of the title dragonrider, and Halmsa was determined to be that person.
In spite of the inherent danger of leaving his body completely unprotected in a part of the hold occupied by demons, in one of the few rooms that gets any natural light, he prayed for release from his prison of flesh. It seemed an unwise thing to hope for, but Halmsa wished with all of his heart as he stared out into the open sky. Reviewing the tales in his head, trying to remember exactly how Catrin had described astral travel, he tried not to despair. He had no access to the Cathuran chant or drums, and he chose to take another wild risk and hum a tune. Catrin had said it was the vibration that helped her and not the melody. Perhaps, he thought, the melody was there only to entertain those who must chant for hours at a time.
Humming, Halmsa stared out at the sky and strained his eyes, trying to look himself into the open air. A trickle of fear ran down his spine when he wondered if he would ever be able to return to his body should he break free of this mortal shroud.
Still humming, he closed his eyes and envisioned himself soaring through the skies, a dragon beneath him. When he opened his eyes, nothing happened. Frustrated, he sighed and sat back. That was when he remembered that Catrin had done the same; only she had smacked her head on the stone chair. Halmsa wondered if it had to be by accident and come as a surprise and exactly how hard he would have to hit his head. He was not afraid of the pain or a coward, but no man would slam his head against stone any harder than he might have to.
With his eyes open, he moved his head backward until it struck the stone lightly. Nothing happened. Doubtful but determined, he threw his head back and it hit with a solid thunk. He had been concerned he would have given away his position, cursing from the pain, but he barely felt it as he soared through the skies. Halmsa of the Wind clan could fly.
Faint sounds melded with the rush of the waterfall and the calls of birds carried on the light breeze. This place seemed impossible, yet it remained very real. The aroma of grasses mixed with mosses near the falls. The smell of moist soil and supple grasses painted the air. Sinjin even found ripe strawberries scattered throughout the grasses where the light was the brightest. The afternoon was drawing on, and the light changed to a deeper hue, making the place seem even more surreal.
With the shadows growing long and the light playing tricks with their eyes, Brother Vaughn suddenly pulled Sinjin and Trinda back behind a squat tree. Holding a finger to his lips, he slid on his belly until he could see the rolling hills beyond. "By the gods! Come out quick!"
Hesitating for only a moment, Sinjin followed Brother Vaughn and helped Trinda back to her feet. Looking annoyed, she brushed herself off, and Sinjin didn't bother to tell her that there was nothing to be brushed off. All thoughts of sarcasm left him when he spotted movement back near where they had entered the cavern. In an instant he recognized his father and Strom and Durin! He wasn't quite as pleased to see Kendra, but it mattered little. A huge grin crossed Sinjin's face, but it instantly vanished.
Hissing balls of flame leaped from the shadows and exploded, casting flaming pitch over anything nearby. Waves of what looked like gelatinous air rushed forth from another portal, and Prios's company was quickly pushed into a full retreat.
"I'm here, Dad!" Sinjin cried out, and Brother Vaughn looked as if he would scold Sinjin, but they both saw Prios look up.
Issuing a wordless roar, Prios ran toward them.
Sinjin could not stop himself. He had to get to his father, had to have his forgiveness. All of this was his fault, and he could no longer stand the guilt. Tears stung his eyes as he did what he did best.
He ran.
Stunted trees flew by in a blur. Tiny chipmunks scurried to get out of his path. And for an instant, his eyes met those of a hunting cat, which crouched in the lush grass. Every moment in time became images burned into his memory. It was as if he were in a dream. Surely none of this could be real, he thought as the demons poured onto the field like a dark stain spreading across the precious landscape. Birds filled the air, driven from the trees by the malevolent forces charging into their midst with a cloud of angry energy raging around them. Sinjin could feel the contempt if not the energy itself.