Quest Of The Dragon Tamer (Book 1) (44 page)

Manda was the only person besides Ren who saw him not as a triplet, but as an individual. He was twenty years her senior but he carried a love for her that was a mixture of romantic and fatherly love.

Now, he almost didn’t recognize her. A slow understanding crept over him. He turned to the Avenger.

“Valor?”

Aaron nodded. “She needs you, my friend. She needs you to talk to her, bring her out of this. She isn’t sick in a physical sense; she’s sick at heart. She’s afraid to awake, afraid the world will bring her more pain. I can’t help her for I am pain.”

Lazo nodded, sensing the truth in Aaron’s statement, and moved closer to Manda. Fraul and Aaron walked away, talking softly. Lazo lifted Manda’s head and placed it gently in his lap. He took the towel Fraul had been using to cool her brow and dotted her forehead. Inside, the stream calmed, for his fears lay forgotten. Lazo began speaking to Manda, telling her how much her laughter meant to him.

Chapter 22

They had entered a region of Crape where rolling hills ceded to dense forests. The abundant hickory and spruce allowed brush and vines to grow freely, sometimes impeding passage and daunting swiftness. Ren much preferred the large redwoods of Zier that kept undergrowth to a minimum, but he had to admit the way the sunlight filtered through the branches of the hickories and skipped over the flowering vines gave this particular region of Crape a special enchantment.

The path they rode was well traveled and the new growth did little to hinder their passage. The sun’s rays were stifling without the shade of overhanging branches but the light was welcome. The past few days had been filled with erratic downpours, putting everyone except Neki in a gloomy mood.

With each day they moved closer to the ruins of the Alcazar, but Ren was growing restless. As if he could see the stars in the bright of the day, Ren squinted up at the sky. The previous night the foggy haze Grauss had given the cognomen of “The One” had moved closer, but Ren didn’t know if he was approaching the One or if the One was approaching him.

Ren clicked the reins, urging his mount faster. The mare broke into full gallop. Ren gave her free rein, welcoming the hurried pace. With each day that dawned he felt more urgency to find the One.

His mount seemed eager for the ride. She moved so quickly Ren thought he heard the wind scream his name. The trees moved inward with daunting swiftness. Occasional rocks and rubble blocked the trail, but Michel had the mare well trained. She took the obstructions with little difficulty.

The mare skidded to a sudden halt and reared. Ren was unprepared. He landed on his back with a heavy thud. The horse bellowed a warning and cantered back toward the others. Ren rolled to his side and gasped for air. When it came, he swallowed greedily. Nothing was broken, but his back would be sore for days.

He stood in a slight clearing where the path broke in two directions. He saw no sign of danger.

From the distance he heard Markum scream his name. When he turned to answer his call the words he was about to voice froze on his lips. The sphinx stood before him, heralding an invitation to the Oracle. Ren blinked in awe as the majestic stone figure came to life. Its beauty was something he could never put to words. A woman’s face gazed at him from the white stone, but instead of appearing hard her face was delicate and sensuously curved. Her hair tumbled halfway down her lioness body, accentuating taunt muscles and subtle curves.

As if sensing his thoughts, the sphinx smiled. “Answer my riddle and you shall pass. Miss it and you shall die.” Although her voice rumbled with a rich, amiable tone, there was a warning as sharp as a sword’s edge slicing through its warmth.

This was his last chance to retreat. If he refused the riddle he could walk away, but he would never again have the chance to enter the Oracle. Ren swallowed back his fear and nodded.

“No!”

Markum’s scream echoed in the clearing, but Ren barely heard. He remained transfixed by the stone eyes before him. Markum’s hands tugged at his tunic, but Ren didn’t turn. Galvin’s voice drifted to him from some distant place: “It’s too late, Markum.” The hands left him.

The sphinx straightened and focused her arresting gaze not on him but through him, as if delivering a herald of death. “I’m not something you acquire,” she said, “but you must work for me each day: intangible and invisible, through fields of fire I am made. I am stronger than your fear and more powerful than your blade. I can damn you or I can raise you, be your curse or be your stave.”

Ren stood as still as the sphinx: something that could damn him or raise him, be his curse or his support.

“Time is running out,” the sphinx purred. Ren thought he may have detected a hint of compassion in her tone, but when he looked into her eyes he saw no resonance of that emotion.

The sphinx had said ‘fields of fire.’ That could only mean hardship. What was something he would he have to work for constantly, something intangible and invisible, something that could see him through hard times?

Ren smiled. “Faith.”

Not even the leaves stirred in the breeze. It seemed the very air had gathering to wrap him in the folds of silent suffocation. He heaved for breath. The air was heavy, solid; but just as quickly as the air coagulated it dissipated into a refreshing breeze. The sphinx smiled and stepped aside.

“Clever,” he whispered as he passed her. The sphinx purred in reply.

As he brushed by her he thought he heard her murmur, “Go with the Maker.”

Ren slowed his step. The sphinx moved back into place as some of his men tried to follow. Ren looked around him in silent awe. He walked where few had ever been and where even fewer returned. He was about to meet the guardians of the Oracle.

Turning back to the sphinx Ren opened his mouth to ask where the ancient temple resided, but his voice waned when he saw he stood alone. The sphinx, the clearing, and his friends had disappeared. In their place was a long, serpentine trail, reaching farther than the eye could see.

Ren followed the trail in front of him, expecting the temple to appear around the next bend, but the dense forest seemed to have no end. He had always thought the Oracle would be visible right past the sphinx. He was wrong. Ren trudged on, watching the sun dance across the sky until he knew he had traveled for at least half a day. A twinge of frustration surfaced but he quickly brushed it aside. He couldn’t question the Oracle’s idiosyncrasies.

His mind wandered until his own footfalls lulled him into placid contemplation of the surrounding woods. After a time he began to wonder if he was supposed to turn in a different direction or walk through the dense brush to either side in search of the ancient temple. Almost as soon as the thought was out he caught sight of vegetation he hadn’t seen before. Trees, gnarled in a silvery gray, dotted the woods, and when he peered farther into the distance they became more prevalent.

With quick calculation he concluded more than ten men would have to encircle the trees’ trunks from fingertip to fingertip to encase their monstrous diameter. Fur-lined vines drooped from their branches, enwrapping the trunks in an affable embrace. Ferns with triangular leaves and exquisite white blossoms grew around the their bases, emitting a balmy fragrance.

There was no dampness in the air, but the entire forest appeared vivid and verdant. Ren stopped and drew in a breath, sensing the crystalline air could sustain his body better than any food. It was as if he were feasting on tender meat, tasting a delectable pastry, and drinking wine all with each breath.

The air was life itself.

The sun filtered through the branches, enchanting the trees with sentiment. A few lone fur-covered vines swung down the path, leading him on.

The trees became denser with each step and soon he walked through vines that barely cleared his head. A few moved toward him, touching his arm or shoulder in welcome. He brushed past them, careful not to break their soft leaves. Just when he thought he must have taken a wrong turn, he walked into a clearing.

The building rose before him, bathed in the glory of the sun. Its white stone had silver striations twisting through its surface. Ren knew the silver wasn’t part of the stone, but magic, caressing the stone in soft, shivering waves.

The temple was immense. Stairs rolled out from the piazza like a long, luxurious carpet. The piazza, lined with six colossal columns, supported a huge edifice that crowned the pillars with regal simplicity. The columns were plain, as was the building, but the Oracle needed no decoration. It sparkled with austere beauty.

Ren squinted up at the precipitous height, shielding his eyes from the sun. He was about to meet the Maker’s messengers. As he approached the shadow of the sanctum he noticed it wasn’t completely unadorned as he first thought. On the smooth crown above the columns three words were written in ancient script. There could be no doubt what those words said:
Truth Above All
. Ren glanced down at his sword. The same words were written repeatedly on the blunt of the silver.

There was a finality to each word, a toll of warning. The elation he had felt leaving the sphinx was gone. All that remained was his naked soul standing before the Oracle.

As he mounted the steps, his footfalls didn’t make a sound. In fact there was no sound, not even his soft breath. All was still. It was as if the Oracle’s magic soaked up all evidence of blasphemy, even those things intending no harm.

When he reached the piazza he felt even more exposed. Ren stood below the culmination, dwarfed by the immensity of the columns. They were far larger than the trees he had passed and their shadows left a foreboding of the most sinister degree.

But the guardians were good. They were sent by the Maker to aid those who sought their guidance. He had to keep that at the foremost of his mind.

His sword quivered when he reached the entrance. The inscriptions on the hilt – the arrows, the astragali, and the spiral – were all glowing with a brilliant light, making them take on a three-dimensional effect. The sword bore the emblems of Choice, Chance, and Fate and most assuredly knew it neared its namesakes.

Ren walked to the massive door and traced its grain. It was made from the silver wood of the surrounding trees. Three words were written at eye level:
Truth Above All
.

This time the phrase caused a slight chill to pass through him. When he walked through the door he may very well find a truth he didn’t care to know. The inscription was the Oracle’s way of warning those who entered to take its teachings to heart. But as Ren continued to study the words a peace settled over him, a surety that once he left the Oracle the truth he learned would guide him down the correct path.

Ren pushed open the door and walked inside.

The door closed with a soft click, but the sound resonated throughout the nave with finality. Ren’s eyes fell on the three thrones at the front of the chamber.

They were empty, but Ren put one fist to his forehead and then to his heart. “Truth above all,” he whispered. The guardians deserved every respect he could give them. He whispered a silent thanks to the Maker for granting him entrance.

The stone thrones remained empty. He wondered how long he would have to wait before the guardians appeared.

His sword pulsed with life. He placed a hand on its hilt and looked around the chamber. The nave extended to a vast height. Its hollow pinnacle allowed the gentle rays of the sun to flicker in, carpeting the white floor with glorious light. To each side six columns marched down the nave’s length, framing the Oracle’s treasures.

Dark slabs of stone were propped between every other column to the right. They stood in stark contrast to the white stone of the Oracle. To the left, paintings were hung. Ren could make out a few details from where he stood. Most contained images of people, perhaps the people who built the Oracle.

As he stepped forward his boots made a hollow, heavy sound. The stone beneath him was engraved. It read:

You are entering the Oracle

Make sure our words are understood

Everything happens for a reason

And in that reason there is divine good
.

Ren thought about all the times he had prayed to the Maker, asking for guidance. He had always thought the Maker hadn’t heard him, that he wasn’t good enough in the Maker’s eyes to be heeded. Perhaps that wasn’t it at all. Perhaps the Maker answered in a way he didn’t expect. Perhaps the Maker could use suffering and darkness to produce goodness and light.

Ren whispered for understanding as he stepped around the engraving and walked to the first stone slab. If the guardians hadn’t appeared they may want him to study the Oracle’s treasures. Both may inform him of how he needed to act when speaking with Choice, Chance, and Fate.

The first dark gray stone contained a diagram of the three external elements in a depiction he had never seen before. It was in the form of an equilateral triangle. The three end points depicted the external elements.

Ren read the inscription below the diagram:

Why things occur has been one of the most talked about subjects since the beginning of time. Some believe it’s a mix of one, others of two, others of three, and still others believe only they influence their lives
: