Heart Of Destiny_Book One Of The Heart Of The Citadel Page 13

  Madrid stared at the head. It was one mystery he had not learned before ascending to emperor. Try as he might, he could find no reference to it in the private libraries nor in any of the historical references for the Citadel wars. Futile was his search.

  As he turned away, a spark of energy from the wheel flashed like lightning and instantaneously struck a sword embedded in the rock wall behind the head. The sword glowed for a moment then went dark. Madrid grimaced, grinding his teeth in annoyance. The striking of the sword was as predictable as the clock tower in the lower town. The energy that built up in the wheel discharged at regular intervals. At first, he had tried to change the wheel’s speed to affect its schedule, but he could not counter its spin by force alone. In fact, the wheel had a similar shield to the one between provinces around it. Whether by accident or as a result of design, he was unsure. He did not like what he could not control or manipulate. It set his teeth on edge.

  He skirted the shoreline and made his way around the back of the giant head to where the water flowed through a cut in the rock. Beyond the guardian, as he had come to call the head, was a second chamber, but this one was more of a shaft, tall and narrowing into a rock chimney although still wide enough to fit twenty wagons side by side without touching. In the center of the shaft hung ten crystal containers filled with gemstones. They disappeared into ceiling above and below. A long narrow tube attached to their base fed into the wall. A slow trickle of gems dropped from the container with a tinkling sound and vanished as they slid away with a rattle.

  The level of the gemstones within their crystal containers was alarmingly low, less than a third full and dropping daily. His heavy brows pinched together in anger. This was why he came to the lower reaches, to check the supply of jewels being sent by the provinces. For all the bowing and scraping of the councillors, it was their tithes that showed their true hearts.

  With the cessation of hostilities when the Great Purge was declared at an end, a tithe was demanded by the emperor of the time. The tithe was set at a reasonable level for the province involved, and it was required that it be paid in jewels, either mined from their lands or paid in trade for goods produced. The tithe was due in full on the first full moon of the calendar year following the recorded date of the end of hostilities, but they could contribute on every full moon as they wished. As a general rule, the tithes had been submitted in this fashion for ages, but over the past year Madrid had noticed the beginning of a decline. In the early years, the tithe was more than sufficient to keep the containers filled but of recent date, the amounts offered to the Citadel had been dwindling significantly.

  Madrid climbed up beside the crystal bottles and checked the gauge on the side. With a scowl, he saw that the depth of the shimmering mass of the container that was dedicated to Wydra was an inch lower than it had been just a week ago with no real consumption of jewels. He checked the other containers and saw similar results with every container except the one dedicated to the province of Tunise. That one remained robustly filled. The jewels maintained the shield that separated the provinces and fueled the magical bridges that stretched to the Citadel. No one knew how they had been built. At the end of the Great Purge, the Citadel had constructed them but never spoke of how it had been done. It still remained a mystery to all on the outside. But Madrid knew how it was built.

  Madrid climbed down from the plinth and stood back, arms crossed and a hand stroking his beard, thinking. I cannot allow this slight to go unchallenged, but how should I address the issue without tipping my hand? They seek to undermine me from within, weakening the power of the Citadel. They do not know what their tithe is used for, but they do know it is essential. A blind sabotage is their game, but who are the players? He studied the containers for a few more minutes then left the chamber. He would return to the Citadel and watch the councillors closely. There were still enough reserves to do what was needed. Once he crushed the growing rebellion, he would never be denied again. For now, it was time to stay the course, for only he knew what form the real battle would take.

  It had been just a short time since the young men of the crystal heart had arrived, but their training was going well. Soon they would be ready to join the ranks of his Citadel Guards but with a distinct advantage. These young men could wield magic. What better way to hunt the witches than with a wizard’s gift? He smiled once again. He would find the women first and make their power his own. Or they would die. Either way, he would control their magic until the end.

  The smile that lifted his lips at the thought was not a kind one, for it pleased only himself.

  Chapter 20

  Ancient History

  TIME DID NOT MOVE at the same speed in Jintessa as it did in the land across the hostile sea. The magic based in the core of the islands that gave the Djinn their special powers was not affiliated with time, and so was immune to its clutches. It flowed like a whirlpool with neither beginning nor end. Time simply was, while across the ocean, the passage of time was marked by the rise and fall of the sun. In Jintessa, the sun was a stationary object that moved in lazy circles around the sky but never approached the horizon.

  Elissa leaned over the stone wall to peer down at the flight zone, watching the dragons practice landing with their new charges perched on their backs. They had finally begun their flying lessons, something every one of them had longed to do since that first sleepy ride across the sea.

  She had become used to the odd phenomena of the sun not sinking and found that taking naps was far more useful than the old practice of sleeping for eight hours straight. They trained and studied and absorbed their schooling that much faster for not having to waste a third of it in bed.

  Druzy, her Djinn partner, sat on the top of the wall, oblivious to the height and the sharp rocks below. He had the uncanny balance of a cat and could walk the wall blindfolded. Elissa had seen him do it. It had something to do with his link to their dragon, Mysty. Mysty was a light grey dragon with multicoloured eyes that flashed with mischief. Mysty also displayed catlike qualities (Elissa was not really sure which of them possessed the feline skill set). Her eyes were uniquely suited for traversing dark passages, and in the never-ceasing light of day, she kept her second eyelid down, muting the glare. Consequently, the first time Elissa had really seen her dragon’s eyes was when she was first introduced to her in her nest on the fifth level. The cave of her nest had been pitch black when she arrived, but before she could light her lantern, a pair of hypnotizing eyes had blinked open, lighting up the space.

  “Oh! What a wonderful talent!” she had exclaimed while Druzy brushed by her to stroke Mysty’s head.

  “Always a show off,” he’d muttered, grinning the whole time. “But it does come in handy! Well, not so much around here, but in your world it will!” Mysty huffed in response and shot a thin stream of flame at a lantern on the wall, spreading a golden glow over the area.

  That had been a year ago on this timeless island, but in human terms Elissa was nearly grown and awaiting the launch of their mission.

  “You know, Druzy, I do not feel like I have only been here a year or that so much time has passed back home.”

  Druzy gazed at her upside down from the handstand he was performing on the narrow wall, his black hair falling out of his eyes and hanging like a curtain between his arms. “Time is marked by events, not by planets. What you call time is a mortal thing. Your time is not yet, but soon. When you leave here, time will mark you differently. We are one now.” He pushed off the narrow ledge and flipped back onto his feet, catching the edge with his bare toes, then jumped lightly down beside her.

  She smiled at him. She could feel his thoughts in her head even as she saw his lips move. It was not intrusive; he could not read her mind. It was more like they shared a portion of each other’s brain, co-existed in a friendly, family connection that felt as natural as breathing. He could not compel her, or she him. The truly strange connection was her bond to Mysty. She could feel her dragon as a heart beating bes
ide her own. The vast intelligence she felt still had a feral, beastlike quality, a rawness that occasionally scraped along her nerves. She practiced the mental exercises taught to her by her tutors, constantly running through the drills to be able to maintain her presence while melded to the dragon.

  The danger of losing her mind to the dragon was real. Her instructors warned that she must at all times remain in command of their combined will. A rampaging dragon was an incredible force of destruction. Druzy tilted his head at her tiny frown and patted her arm. He came to just shy of her shoulder in height, while in his human form.

  “Can we really do this, Druzy? Will we be ready in time?”

  “Yes, we can do it. We were born to do it. This has been your calling from your first breath. The dragons feel the pull. They know where the traitor resides. He is on your home world. He has hidden there for many ages, waiting for the perfect time to strike. Now he goes by the name of Emperor Madrid, but here he is known as Madrid the Malefactor. He is a deranged Djinn, an immortal criminal who fled to your lands to escape his punishment in Jintessa.”

  Elissa shivered, a trickle of fear sliding down her back. She twisted a finger in one long ringlet of hair that hung down on the front of her shirt. “What was his crime?”

  “Madrid the Malefactor is responsible for the slaughter of over one hundred dragons and their Djinn riders. This was a lifetime ago by your mortal reckonings. In one evening, he killed a generation of loyal Djinn defenders.”

  “He did what?” Elissa stared at Druzy, her eyes wide and mouth opening with surprise. “The teachers never said that. How do you know?”

  Druzy stepped back and fixed a black-eyed stare on her face. “I was there,” he said softly, his eyes hardening. “I witnessed the slaughter. Mysty was a new hatchling, and we were a recently bonded pair. We had been out for a fly, testing out the limits of our bond. We flew out over the ocean and were practicing diving and twisting manoeuvres when a boom sounded and a mushroom cloud of smoke and ash erupted from a crater below us. We had to dodge the burning missiles and as we twisted away from the plume. In the midst of the eruption, a thunderhead had formed above the explosion and lightning flashed. Thunder rumbled, and that was when I saw him. At the cusp of the crater was a young Djinn rider named Madrid. In his hand was a spear attached to a long coil of metal. The spear flashed as it absorbed the bolts of lightning, which he in turn directed at the hatchery below.” Druzy’s face darkened and furious anger glowed in his obsidian eyes. “Mysty’s kin lay scattered across the floor of the crater and beside them their bonded Djinn, my brothers and sisters. Sickened, we circled higher, keeping the cloud of ash between us and Madrid to hide from him. He never saw us. Over and over he struck the wounded until all lay still, and then he mounted his pale dragon and flew away. That day, we lost over two hundred Djinn and dragons. But he did not go alone. He grabbed ten young female Djinn and used them as hostages to secure his escape. That was the last we ever saw of him or the young women. We did not understand why he would take the female Djinn then, but we know now. He needed them to care for the missing dragon eggs, the eggs that he has now stolen.” Elissa’s eyes widened in shock. “Yes, I believe Emperor Madrid is behind the dragon egg thefts. It is the only thing that makes sense. He is building himself an army, one that can cross the treacherous seas.”

  Druzy’s lips froze and he spoke through the bond. I think he is planning to attack Jintessa. I think he intends to rule both lands.

  He turned back to the wall, and Elissa could feel him calling out to Mysty, who was resting on a ledge to their left. She raised her sparkling head to stare at the pair of them. Images flashed into Elissa’s mind, that were not her own, as Mysty shared her memories of that day. They were so real, Elissa grabbed the wall to steady herself at the press of thunder and the rumbles of the earth and the smell of burning flesh mixed with sulphur and a choking grey ash. She brushed a hand over her burning sleeve in a panic where she felt the burn of an ember, but when she glanced down her arm was whole and complete. Dragon sight was much more visceral than human, and it was one of the things that Elissa was struggling to master and balance against her own human senses.

  “We will confront the traitor. We will avenge our kind. We will recover our kin, both dragon and Djinn.” Druzy’s eyes grabbed Elissa’s and promised revenge with a maniacal light. “We will free your people…and then he shall die. This I promise you.” The promise was echoed by Mysty, and a dragon roared in her mind.

  Elissa shivered, her head turning unconsciously in the direction where she knew her homeland to be. They would be leaving soon to begin their mission to recover the eggs and the stolen Djinn. How hard could it be to locate a dragon egg? But somehow, she felt there was more to the quest. Much, much more.

  Chapter 21

  The Quest Begins

  THE YOUNG WOMEN ASSEMBLED on the parade ground, dressed in their favourite rider outfits. Mostly this consisted of leather leggings snugged into thigh-high boots (the thigh protection was essential when riding a dragon despite the saddle) and a warm woven sweater that fell to the top of their boots. The sweater was covered in light armour which blocked the wind and allowed for ease of movement. The armour was designed more for protecting them against hazards of the air, such as birds or bugs, which at high speed had the ability to bruise or break bones. Over this armour was a cloak the colour of their dragon’s eyes and under scales. The deep hood was trimmed in rabbit fur, and the cloak was held in place by a golden clasp in the shape of an eye with a bright jewel centered on the iris. The third eye was thought to bring luck to the bearer in Djinn culture.

  Stamping dragons ruffled wings and stretched their necks to sniff at the air, anxious to take to the skies in flight now that the time had come. Ten dragons, Djinn, and daughters of men stood at attention in the lush meadow, shifting nervously as Madame Cherise mounted the natural rock podium to address her charges. Overhead, patrolling dragons and Djinn circled the skies, drifting on the warm currents of air, guarding against the possibility of attack.

  As she settled into place, silence descended. Even the birds quieted, sensing the tension in the air.

  Clearing her throat, Cherise allowed her gaze to drift over the young women before her, then said, “Daughters. Dragonmergers. Honoured dragons. You are the hope for the world. Not just for Jintessa, but for Gaia, too. Not just for humanity, but for the Djinn. Long ago, before either nation knew of each other’s existence, a brave few ventured across the lethal waters by the only means available, on the back of a willing dragon. These early Djinn explorers sought only to increase their knowledge and explore beyond Jintessa. Thrilled to discover the lovely land of Gaia, they eagerly sought interaction and merger with the humans, believing that both lands would benefit from the combination.

  “Unfortunately for them, humanity was not ready for such an enlightened joining and their advances were met with distrust and open hostility. Only among those with magic was it even possible to merge. This isolated those with magic, casting a pall of suspicion over the magical community. At the urging of Emperor Pius the Third, the Great Purge swept the land, driving all magic underground. Those with magic that were captured during the Great Purge disappeared. Dragon, Djinn, Dragonmerger, witch, wizard, they were never seen again.”

  The silence was absolute.

  “Today stand before me the last of the gifted, those with the ability to join in the triad merger discovered by Madam Marion. Chryso, here,” she gestured to Chryso who stood beside her and slightly behind, “was the first and is still bonded to Marion to this day. Chryso, how old are you?”

  Chryso stepped forward and said to the Dragonmergers below, “I am one thousand, two hundred and eighty-three seasons.” The girls gasped, and whispers broke out as they looked at their Djinn partners with questioning eyes. “A Dragonmerger is not of age to merge until they are at least three hundred seasons old.” He stepped back.

  “With this merger, you will find that your lifespan will be sig
nificantly increased.” Cherise’s eyes drifted to her daughter Shikara, who had grown to be a tall, willowy young woman with white gold hair. “This is both a blessing and a curse, for you will find that those around you, whom you have known all your lives, speed toward death while you barely age. It is a difficult thing to bear, to watch those you love age so. I tell you this to forewarn you. Nothing back home is as you remember it, if you can remember it at all. Time has moved faster there than here. When you return, should you meet up with the male heart bearers, they will be middle-aged men. They would need the merger with a dragon to inhibit their aging.” Heads nodded.

  “So we come to this. Until now, I have not told you what your mission is. Why were you brought here? What is the purpose of all of this?” She waved her hand at the training ground and the school perched on the mountain side. “Why is any of this important?

  “It is for this reason that you have been merged. Your task is to free the provinces of your birth from the control of the Citadel. With the formation of the wall between the provinces during the Great Purge, the enslavement of our peoples was enacted. A tithe was required of every province to pay for the creation and maintenance of the magical wall that separates the provinces. Fear, suspicion and greed, fueled by the teachings of the Citadel and the church have pitted province against province and slowly solidified all power in the Citadel. This tithe initially was based on a percentage of the profits of the people within any given province. At first it was a welcome relief and stabilizing factor for the provinces, erasing their fear of invasions and conflicts across borders. All parties were forced to go to the central neutral zone of the Citadel for peaceful bartering and trade. But of recent date, the demands on the people of all provinces have been increased. The tithe has now been doubled, and it is no longer a percentage based on the wealth or gain of the province, but is now a set amount regardless of the economics of the land. Not only do the poorest provinces struggle to pay it, but they cannot even plead for leniency. The emperor is now sending out tax collectors who are reaping the land. If they cannot produce the required tribute, then the soldiers are charged with harvesting a person from each family to serve the Citadel until the debt is repaid. Of course, it is never repaid. “