How to Bond a Mage (Heir of Dragons Book 3) Page 3

  “Not exactly.” She held up one of her hands and gave her fingers a brief wiggle. “My people, the Fae, possess healing magic. If you like, I can try to heal them with it.”

  “Healing magic, you say?” The dragon straightened the lenses he wore and turned to assess the nearest patient, testing his pulse and reflexes. “I suppose I'm open to anything,” he replied, motioning her over. “Please, take care. We've never seen an affliction of this kind. Whether it is due to injury, poison or disease... we cannot yet say.”

  “I understand.” Minx stood to the left of the near-most scout and studied him for a moment. He appeared quite young—younger than Kaleb by a few years, perhaps. His youthful face was completely devoid of emotion; he had the look of a peaceful sleeper, and the rise and fall of his bare chest further reinforced this impression. She reached out to touch his forearm, and was surprised to find his skin cool and clammy. “You say there are no marks on their bodies? No wounds?”

  The physician, keeping a close eye on her, nodded solemnly. “That's right. We suspected poisoning at first, but unless a toxin was ingested we can't begin to guess how they were exposed to it. My colleagues and I believe it may be disease, though...” He frowned and loosed a great sigh. “No illness that plagues our kind is known to take this form. The presentation of this malady, which robs the patient of consciousness but otherwise seems to leave the body unharmed... is troubling.”

  Minx took a deep breath and calmed her nerves. “Let me see if I can help.” Placing a hand on the scout's upper arm, she lowered her head and sought to clear her mind. From deep within her, she felt a sparking of warm energy, and this, given some moments, began to bubble over, inching through her extremities like a river overcoming its banks. The warmth pulsed as it reached her fingertips, and was promptly transferred into the young dragon's body.

  Minx had never been a great healer amongst her people, but as of late she'd refined her skills and improved a great deal. She had healed the Fae-dragon hybrid, Alla, after her deadly poisoning at the hands of the Zuscha, and had also nursed Kaleb back to health multiple times. During the various battles around Pandling Grounds, she'd had no few opportunities to assist the local healers in patching up the wounded Fae warriors, too. At that moment, as she let her energies course into the dragon's still body, she felt at the height of her powers—more confident in her healing abilities than she'd ever been.

  But her efforts had, distressingly, no visible effect.

  Several minutes had passed without the least change in pulse or respirations when Minx suddenly opened her eyes to look the patient over again. He hadn't stirred. His eyes remained shut, his lips sealed. His body hadn't so much as twitched on the table since she'd begun her work, and though she kept on trying a few minutes more, she ultimately had to make peace with the fact that she could not help him.

  “I'm sorry,” said Minx, lowering her hands and drawing away from him. “It seems this is beyond my skill...”

  The physician offered a kindly smile. “Well, I thank you for trying. We have had, unfortunately, no success ourselves. I have ordered many well-regarded therapies and medicines, but none produce any worthwhile effect.” He scratched at his thin mop of hair and straightened his glasses. “We will continue to monitor them and to hope for a change.”

  “Certainly. And if there's anything I can do to help, please don't hesitate to ask,” offered Minx.

  “Surely, we will call upon you if—” The doctor fell silent as he appraised the young dragon's face. “W-What's this?” he stammered, leaning over the slab in close inspection of something.

  Minx, too, leaned forward—and what she saw provoked a visceral reaction in her. “What... what is that?”

  The scout had not awakened, nor had he stirred since Minx's last glance, but something had appeared on his face that sent both the Fae huntress and the doctor into a panic. The patient's closed eyes were draped now in what could only be described as a black webbing. It had begun as a trail of shimmering black just beneath the skin of the lower eyelids, dripping like tears from some place deep within the skull. These black marks gradually coalesced into a recognizable shape, weaving over one another into a network of webbings. Minx looked on in abject horror as the scout's cheeks became tainted with more of the black threads. It was as though a spider lived beneath his skin and was weaving an inky web across his face.

  The physician, quite pale, touched the patient's face with a quivering fingertip. Then, inspecting his hands, nodded firmly. “This phenomenon is occurring beneath the skin; it's spreading throughout him from some centralized source.” He shot Minx a hard look. “Have you ever seen anything like this amongst your own people?”

  She could only shake her head.

  Others in the room wandered by to watch the black webbing unfold—and within moments, the other scouts began to exhibit the same mysterious symptom. Their youthful faces slowly became hosts to black threads. They shot forth from beneath their eyelids, staining their cheeks in midnight-colored webbing that could not be wiped away.

  “It's coming from inside of them,” muttered one onlooker, a hand pressed to her mouth in terror.

  “Is it a toxin? Shall we make an incision and express it?” ventured another.

  Kaleb paced about the room, surveying the shocking symptom with a grimace.

  Minx, drawing away from the examination tables, joined him in a far corner of the sick bay. “Kaleb, what do you think this is? It's like a spiderweb under their skin. They can't awaken—they're completely comatose, as though their minds have left their bodies. Do you think that Torrent could be behind it?”

  “I'd bet on it,” replied Kaleb. He crossed his arms, gaze low. “This must be some kind of dark magic—or else an exotic illness. The only one capable of spreading such a thing is Torrent. And the timing is suspect, too. The scouts returned with news of Torrent's forces—claimed that an army was on its way here, yes? That can't be a coincidence. Perhaps Torrent means to weaken us by spreading an illness or dark spell.” He motioned to the incapacitated scouts. “If all of us end up like them, Torrent will have a pretty easy time clearing out the mountain. There'll be no one left to fight him when he arrives.”

  Minx stiffened. “Y-You think that's his plan?”

  Kaleb, eyes heavy and face gaunt, leaned against the wall. He looked exhausted—on the verge of illness himself. “It could be. For all we know, this is contagious.”

  “Contagious?” She brought a hand to her face instinctively, doubting the purity of the air she'd only moments ago gasped in. “Do you really think so?”

  “Nothing is certain.” Kaleb looked to the medical workers who were still milling about the room. “These six will be closely monitored. I'm sure we'll have some answers soon...”

  Just then, a piercing cry arose. Minx's ears shrank from the cacophony and her heart leapt up in her chest in a series of painful spasms.

  This cry, however, was not coming from within the room.

  She stumbled, falling into Kaleb and cowering. She held her head in her hands, kneading at her temples as the cries reached a new, terrible register of unchecked anguish.

  There were two voices united in a miserable harmony of screams. One, she recognized as Heilo Lake. She knew that voice too well to mistake it. These same wild cries had assailed her on its shores, while Torrent had carried out his dark ritual. The other voice was harder to pin down, however. It was deeper, more resonant than Heilo Lake's, and the only thing she could be sure of was that she'd never heard it before.

  With the terrible cries came a vision—a vision of dark stone, of jagged, sky-piercing peaks. She shivered in the shadow of something immense, something that threatened to eclipse her mind's eye utterly.

  The mountain, she realized. It's Gloirs Mountain.

  Both the lake and the mountain situated behind it were crying out to her in sheer distress. Kaleb tried to help her, to lead her out of the room, but her legs had gone stiff and her awareness of her surroundings didn't fu
lly return until, some moments later, the voices finally ebbed away. When finally the screams had ceased, her head felt suddenly empty—hollow. She clawed at her hair, sucking in several deep breaths and struggling to remain standing even with Kaleb's strong arms around her. She had no idea why the lake and mountain had reached out to her, couldn't even begin to guess what they'd been through to trigger such a terrible psychical attack as this, but in the aftermath she felt so weak she half-believed she'd felt their pain first-hand.

  “Minx!” Kaleb's voice was finally perceptible in her ear. “Are you OK? What happened?”

  She leaned on him, burying her face against his chest and stifling a groan. “The lake...” she began, mouth dry and teeth chattering.

  “The lake?” he echoed. “What about it? Did... Did you hear it again?”

  She nodded furiously. “And that's not all. Gloirs Mountain, too...”

  Kaleb's glowing eyes narrowed. “Oh? That's a first...” He led her slowly from the room, not wishing to distract the physicians or cause undue concern. “What did they say? What's happened?”

  Mau sauntered up to her as she crossed into the hall under Kaleb's care. What's the matter? Did something happen? Do... do you think you're sick, like those dragons in there?

  No, replied Minx. It's not that. It's... it's the lake again. Heilo Lake and Gloirs Mountain... Something has happened to them. Something terrible. Panting, she looked up at Kaleb. “This has never happened before. Whatever caused them to call out to me must be bad, Kaleb... worse than anything in the past.”

  The dragon shifter cradled her as she calmed. “The tainting of the lake continues apace,” he muttered. “Maybe it's Torrent's doing. Unless the lake can be healed, this will continue, right?”

  She feared to answer him in the affirmative. “We can't allow it... We can't let this happen,” she said. “Somehow, we have to drive Torrent's evil out of the lake.”

  He offered a kindly smile and wrapped her in a warm embrace, but like her, he had no concrete solution for the monumental problem they faced. “Don't worry, Minx. We'll figure it out. One way or another...” He assured her, but without his usual confidence.

  The lake's future was anything but certain—and with horrors befalling even the dragons of the Talon Range, it seemed that all of Aleio was slated for destruction. Soon enough, she feared, the entire continent would scream out to her for help.

  Chapter 5

  Things went from bad to worse.

  After extensive discussions with the physicians, Kaleb's father called for an assembly in the large room beyond the war chamber. When many dozens had filed in, he began his remarks with a solemn expression, hands behind his back. “Thank you, all, for coming. Some of you may be unaware that, just this evening, six of our scouts—young and healthy individuals—have come down with what we can only term a mysterious illness. Rest assured that all hands are on deck. These individuals are being cared for and closely monitored. Still, there remain many unknowns...”

  The hush that had fallen over the assemblage broke as the listeners exchanged many conspiratorial whispers. Gidiam urged them to quieten with a wave of his hand. “An illness?” Minx heard one dragon say from nearby. “They don't gather us like this to let us know when someone catches the sniffles. This must be serious... more serious than he's letting on!”

  Gidiam continued. “I do not wish to incite panic—in fact, nothing could be more deleterious to our efforts in this matter. Instead, I would like to assure each and every one of you that I and the other generals are currently doing everything in our power to cure these men. Furthermore...” He cleared his throat. “I am ordering each and every dragon to remain within the mountain till this menace is understood. I do not take this measure likely, but in the event that this mysterious illness has circulated amongst us, I would like those who develop symptoms to immediately report to the sick bay. Fatigue, odd aches and pains—anything out of the ordinary ought to be reported.”

  It was all Minx could do not to groan.

  Those six scouts didn't exhibit any symptoms before they suddenly collapsed, blurted Mau, curled near Minx's feet. What's he talking about? By the time someone realizes they may be sick with this, it's already too late.

  It's clear they don't know what they're dealing with. They have no choice but to make it up as they go along. More hushed whisperings sprang up from all around. If they keep everyone in the mountain, it'll be easier to account for the illness' spread, if any. Remember, we don't even know if it's actually a sickness yet. It could be a spell, a curse of some kind... We're really not sure.

  If it had been a simple bug, your healing magic would have worked, quipped the Faelyr. This is something else entirely. I'd bet my left paw—and that's no small thing. My left paw is my favorite.

  “We ask that all of you comply with this order,” continued Gidiam, his gaze falling squarely on Minx as he spoke. “Until the situation has been brought under control, we require cooperation from all of you. Please be mindful of your neighbors, and if you notice any of them in distress, please notify the medical staff immediately.”

  Having issued his orders, Gidiam stepped away from the small crowd—and, rather tellingly, refused to take questions. Had he stopped to respond to the many queries then being lobbed at him, he would have been able to answer precious few of them. There simply weren't enough facts for him to present at the moment. He and the other generals wished to proceed with the utmost caution, to track any new instances of this illness among the population, but getting the stubborn dragons to comply would likely prove difficult.

  The gathering began to thin, leaving only Kaleb, Minx and Mau outside the war chamber, along with a smattering of other loiterers. “Do you think it'll work?” asked Minx. “Your father's plan?”

  Kaleb tossed his shoulders. “They're just throwing something at the wall and hoping it sticks. If anyone else gets sick, then odds are good it's a communicable illness.” He smirked. “Then again, by calling this big ol' meeting, he might've just spread the thing around good and proper! So, I guess it's a waiting game.”

  Mau paced about, her claws clacking against the polished stone floors. So far, all we know is that this sickness... this thing... knocks you out, right? Call me crazy, but that doesn't sound so bad. Don't get too torn up if I wind up with it. A nice, long sleep like those scouts are enjoying sounds wonderful to me. They can wake me up when they find the cure.

  Oh, please, shot back Minx with a roll of her eyes. We don't even know what the effects are. Those scouts may look peaceful right now, but there's no telling what's going on inside of them. They could be suffering greatly... They could even die, Mau. It's not a joke.

  Gidiam emerged only when the crowd had dispersed, and started straight for Kaleb from across the way. He approached his son with a wide smile, though appeared taken aback somewhat as he approached. “Kaleb,” he began, his gruff voice tinged with something like concern. “Are you... are you all right?”

  “Huh?” The young dragon shifter brushed the hair from his pale face and nodded. “Of course, father. What's wrong?”

  Gidiam wasn't convinced by this, however. He stepped right up to Kaleb, taking hold of his chin and examining him with an almost comical thoroughness. “You don't look well, my boy. Are you feeling ill?” He paid special attention to Kaleb's eyes, running a finger against his cheeks in search of the strange, black webs that had appeared earlier beneath the skin of the six scouts.

  “I'm fine,” replied Kaleb, pulling away. “Tired. That's all.”

  “Oh?” Gidiam motioned toward one of the corridors. “You should come to the sick bay. I'll have one of the physicians assess you. Under the circumstances, I don't want to take any chances—least of all with my own son!”

  “Really, I'm fine!” Kaleb chuckled, waving his father off with annoyance. “It was a long journey here, and after everything I went through at Pandling Grounds, well...” He hesitated. “Suffice it to say, I've had a lot going on. And speaking of Pand
ling Grounds, I need to be getting back. The Fae are still in need of aid, and we've been gone for far too long already.”

  At this, Gidiam looked on the verge of violence. Seizing his son by the shoulder, he gave him a hard shake. “You? Heading to Pandling Grounds? I think not. You'll go to your quarters if you go anywhere, young man—or the sick bay, your choice. What is this nonsense? You've just heard me issue an order. None are to leave the mountain.” Here, he glanced fiercely at Minx and Mau. “None. No exceptions. I'm not happy to do this, but I would rather err on the side of caution. Just until we know what we're dealing with. But sincerely, haven't you done enough for the Fae? You have a place here—responsibilities, Kaleb. I won't have you throwing away your life fighting for them when we ourselves are set to fight our own battles against Torrent's men!”

  “Didn't I tell you as much?” was Kaleb's rejoinder. “I told you they'd be on their way. Had we united with the Fae against them, they never would have gotten this far. In fact, had you all just followed my lead, it's possible we would have destroyed him by now! Instead, you all want to pretend what's happening at Pandling Grounds isn't our problem.” He laughed darkly. “Well, now it's on our doorstep, isn't it?”

  “That'll be quite enough,” spat Gidiam. “To your quarters. We'll see to it that the Fae and her companion are well-accommodated, but I will not tolerate your disobedience, Kaleb. Not another word about this nonsense. You are home—and you will stay.” With that, he marched off, beard bristling and face red with anger.

  “I see where you get it from,” muttered Minx with a faint grin as Gidiam disappeared from view.

  “Oh? What's that?” asked Kaleb.

  “Your temper. It's endearing,” replied the Fae huntress. “Like father, like son, I suppose.”

  “Yeah, well, pardon me if I don't find it too amusing at the moment.” Kaleb took a deep breath, looking to calm himself. “We can't just sit around, waiting. There's too much at stake. Torrent's on the move, and Pandling Grounds isn't exactly in the clear. It could take days—weeks—for the doctors to come up with something concrete, and longer for them to actually fix it. Does he expect us to stay put that long? We need to get out of here, and fast.”