SummerDanse Read online

  Woodbury, Minnesota

  SummerDanse © 2007 by Terie Garrison.

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  First e-book edition © 2010

  E-book ISBN: 9780738725550

  Book design by Steffani Sawyer

  Cover design by Gavin Dayton Duffy

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  Editing by Rhiannon Ross

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  To Mom

  and

  to Dad

  Acknowledgments

  There are at least a zillion people involved in publishing a series, and it’s impossible to thank all of them.

  There is the South Manchester Writers’ Workshop, whose members have supported me and my work since my arrival in Manchester in 2000.

  There are my work colleagues, who cheered me on and shared the ups and downs of toiling away at what can often be an unrewarding task in the long nights between work shifts when I was trying to get the fiction words right.

  There are the many people who answered the endless research questions. What exactly is the gestation period of a dragon, anyway?

  There are the test readers, who told me what worked and, far more importantly, what didn’t.

  There is the Flux staff—Andrew, Gavin, Rhiannon, Kelly, Steffani, and others whose names I don’t even know—who turn a manuscript into a real book, or, well, thousands of them.

  There are the teachers who taught me to read, and then to write, and then to write fiction. And, however impossible it might have seemed, even to think clearly at least some of the time.

  And most importantly, there are the friends and family who believed in me, loved me, and gave me the freedom to indulge myself in this wonderful world called “writing.”

  A half-played game of Talisman and Queen lies before me, the jewel pieces glowing as they sit on the black velvet embroidered with glittering silver thread. The Queen’s Heart, made of ruby, gleams at the center. Ranged about are the Talismans: mine, emerald; my opponent’s, sapphire.

  Anazian sits across from me, absorbing energy and my concentration. His power seems to suck the very air from the room. I can scarce breathe.

  The game is almost won. My heart tells me that with a single move, I will Secure the Queen’s Heart. But my brain is frozen, unable to make sense of the game pieces. A wrong move, and my enemy will take all.

  Anazian says, “Your move.”

  I want to strike him, because I already know this.

  “Perhaps you should give up and go home. Yes, that would be a plan. Home, where all is not as you left it.” The laughter turns brittle. “Go to your mama and papa, where you are truly needed. If it’s not too late.”

  With a gasping start, I awake. I’m needed at home, and I must go. Now.

  Home. The dragon on which I flew could scarcely land fast enough. The stars shone brightly overhead as the moon set in front of us, and in the silver light, my parents’ cottage stood out against the dark fields.

  Xyla landed near the barn, but before I could dismount, I felt a thrill of tension tighten her muscles.

  “Something is not right,” she said, her voice in my head little more than a whisper. Which made no sense.

  Still, I opened up my senses to the life vibrations all around. Xyla was right: something was wrong. Discord filled the air, as if a hornet’s nest had been stirred.

  “I feel only one human here, and the life vibration is weak,” Xyla said.

  Only one? Were the others dead? I needed no further prompting. After sliding the long way down the dragon’s shoulder to the ground, I raced to the door of the cottage. It hung askew, the upper hinge torn almost completely away. I pushed it open, and that was enough to loose it entirely and send it clattering to the floor.

  “Mama!” I called. “Papa! Breyard!” They should all three be here. Then I came to a halt to let my eyes adjust to the dimness of the interior.

  Every piece of furniture lay broken, and all the dishes and windows had been smashed. Clothing lay strewn about, some ripped and more shoved into the fire where it still smouldered, stinking up the place. My mind could hardly grasp the destruction that my eyes saw before me.

  I went from room to room, tripping over the debris on the floor in my haste. Xyla had said there was one life vibration. Who was it, and where? And where were the others? In the middle of the mess, I stood still, closed my eyes, and concentrated. It was easier for me to perceive animals than humans, but this was my family, and I should be able to pick out their vibrations. Unless the person was someone else?

  Stop panicking, I told myself. Just concentrate. Yes, there, in my brother Breyard’s room.

  I found him lying unconscious under the broken pieces of his work desk. Dried blood from a gash near his temple covered much of his face. I checked for broken bones, but all felt sound, even his back and skull. As far as I could tell. His breathing was shallow, though, and his heartbeat none too steady.

  “Can you get him outdoors?” Xyla’s voice penetrated my thoughts.

  “I can and I will,” I replied. I’d have to do it myself, for there was no one near nor anyone I could trust to know about Xyla. It was illegal for anyone but the king to possess a dragon, and though no one “possessed” Xyla, it wouldn’t be safe if anyone from the village spotted her. I’d have to get Breyard out of here myself. Now.

  Summoning every bit of strength, both physical and spiritual, I bent down to lift my brother. He was older than I and a fit young man. Six months ago, I wouldn’t even have tried such a thing. But ever since I learned that I had maejic power, I’d discovered it could be called upon for many things.

  I rose to my feet, holding him in my arms, and managed to get him out the front door without losing my footing, and even to lay him down on the ground without dropping him. Xyla stood as near to the house as she could.

  “Watch him.” I said. “I have to check the outbuildings.” Although what
I would do if I found Mama’s and Papa’s bodies, I had no idea.

  “Hurry,” Xyla said.

  I dashed over to the barn. The sheep didn’t seem upset, and when I asked about Papa, none said they’d seen him, and why was I disturbing them in the middle of the night? The other buildings were locked. Mama and Papa must not be here at all. What had happened?

  “Now!” Xyla cried. I ran back to her at full speed. “We must go now, before we are discovered. I will carry Breyard.”

  At that instant, a flash of green blinded me. Remnants of power sizzled in the air. Xyla’s scream rent my thoughts. Instinctively, I started to mount her. I’d had enough practice that I didn’t need to see. When my hands touched her skin, my sight returned. I shimmied up, and I’d barely gotten seated when she leapt into the air.

  Another flash of green, but this one wasn’t so near. It was lightning. A dragonmaster’s lightning. It missed, streaking under us. We climbed, and I looked down, trying to see where it had come from.

  Yet another burst barely missed us again, and now I saw that it came from atop the barrow after which our village, Barrowfield, was named. Why was a dragonmaster there? Xyla kept climbing, and the next bolt didn’t even come close. Being out of range, though, didn’t ease my anxiety. I now saw yellow flames blossoming below, and there was no doubt that it was the thatch roof of our cottage. Everything I’d ever known as a child would soon be lost to flames. Everything but the most important: my family.

  I asked Xyla, “Did the lightning hit you?”

  “No,” she said, “though it came close.”

  I breathed a tiny sigh of relief. “Good. We need to fly lower now. The cold isn’t good for Breyard.”

  “Neither is the dragonmaster’s lightning.”

  There was a quiver of fear in her tone. It seemed hard to imagine that a dragon could be afraid of anything, but Xyla had been imprisoned by dragonmasters once, and not long ago they’d attacked her and almost killed her. They might be only humans, but they had great power that could even control dragons.

  “You’re right, dearest,” I said, trying to convey a sense of comfort I didn’t feel myself, “but we’re far enough away now.”

  She didn’t reply, but I felt the angle of her flight change. I looked down and back to find the fire that was my childhood home had fallen far behind. Why? Why had a dragonmaster set fire to the cottage of a poor farming family? And where were Mama and Papa? Why had Breyard been left behind? The inevitable questions repeated themselves over and over like a canyon echo in my mind.

  Now I saw that we were very near to the ground. Ahead was a darkness that must be a wood.

  “I will leave you here with Breyard while I go for Yallick and Oleeda.”

  “Good plan,” I agreed. The mages were also healers and would know what to do.

  Then we were on the ground, right next to the trees. Xyla took off again as soon as I’d dismounted. Dry wood was plentiful, and it wasn’t long before I had a good fire burning. I covered Breyard with my cloak. It might be cold, but he needed the extra warmth more than I did. I checked him over again. I was sure that Xyla had been careful carrying him, but the abrupt takeoff followed by the cold of high altitude couldn’t have done any good and might well have done more harm.

  He lay unmoving, the dried blood on his face making it look as if he wore a mask. I shuddered and tried not to let my imagination get carried away. I couldn’t clean it up, for I had no water, and in a dark, unfamiliar place, I didn’t want to venture far to try to find any.

  As the sky began to lighten, it occurred to me that Xyla wouldn’t be able to make it to the mountain cave and back before the sun rose. Would she risk flying in daylight? Would Yallick let her?

  By the time the sun was well and truly up, I knew that Xyla and the others wouldn’t come until after nightfall. I watched Breyard’s still form. What was I supposed to do for him? His breathing was shallow, his heartbeat too fast. But I didn’t know what was wrong so couldn’t know what to do to make it right.

  In the clear light of morning, I saw that the gash was even worse than I’d imagined. It started above his right eye and went across his temple and deep into his hair. It was still seeping blood, though most of it seemed to have scabbed over.

  I put more wood on the fire. At least I would be able to keep him reasonably warm. And I could go search for water now, too. I didn’t have any food, for I hadn’t expected to need any, but my pack always held my traveling gear, which included a waterskin, a small cookpot, and my herbs. I could make tea, and even a cleansing draught to clean Breyard’s face of blood.

  Water wasn’t far away, no more than a five-minute walk into the wood. I should’ve known Xyla would make sure of that. After taking a very long drink and splashing the cold water on my face, I filled the skin and returned to the fire. As the water heated in the pot, I pulled my herbs and a clean tunic from my pack, then tore the tunic into strips.

  When the herbs had steeped in the hot water long enough, I soaked one of the strips and pressed it gently to Breyard’s forehead for a few moments to soften up the dried blood. Then, carefully and slowly, I dabbed at the gash, using a clean bit of cloth to dribble more water onto it. Once the worst of the blood was gone, the wound didn’t look quite as bad as it had, although it didn’t look good, either.

  After wrapping the top part of his head in more of the strips, I cleaned up the rest of his face. When that was done, I sat next to the fire with a sigh. I’d managed to kill less than an hour.

  My stomach rumbled. Nothing I could do about that. It was too early for even the earliest of Spring’s berries. And I had no hunting gear, by virtue of the fact that I had no hunting skill. I would just have to make the best of it. It wouldn’t be that difficult to make it through a day without food. Besides, there were plenty of herbs for tea.

  Partway through the morning, I pulled my meditation kit from my pack. Choosing a pale green candle for health and a dark blue one for resourcefulness, I went through the meditation routine.

  Clear my thoughts. In this still, solemn place, that was easy enough. I concentrated on taking slow, steady breaths, letting the tranquillity of the woods still my mind.

  Find my calm center. There. I nudged the worry over Breyard and our parents aside, and took another breath.

  Open my inner senses. I let the vibrations of life flow through me. Small woodland creatures, blooming shrubs, blossoming life, all but hidden to the eye, surrounded me.

  Absorb the power of the earth, the air, the life all around. Let it fill me and strengthen me and replenish my soul.

  The day passed at the speed of a snail. If even that. I drank endless cups of tea, checked Breyard over endless times, and paced around the fire endlessly.

  In the afternoon, I meditated again. Not very successfully this time, as my empty stomach kept intruding on my thoughts. After awhile, I gave up in annoyance at my inability to ignore something as insignificant as a bit of hunger and blew out the candles.

  The day had been reasonably warm for the time of year, but as the sun began to head down in earnest, it grew colder and I had to stay near the fire. At least it would soon be dark enough for Xyla to fly without being seen. Surely I didn’t have too very much longer to wait.

  I stared at Breyard’s face, willing him to give me some sign of improvement. Until recently, looking at him had been a bit like looking at my own reflection, except that he had hazel eyes while mine were dark brown. We shared the same thin nose and high cheekbones, and once upon a time had both had long, straight brown hair. Now his hair was almost shoulder-length and mine was bobbed at my jaw.

  But the biggest difference was the silver mark on my left cheek. A labyrinthine design called an Etosian knot, it had been carved into my skin by Rennirt, an evil lord who had tried to take my maejic power and make it his.

  I shook my head.
Brooding on that mark wasn’t going to make it go away; I’d have to try to forget it. Or just learn to accept it. With a deep sigh, I rose to my feet and went to fill my waterskin one last time. It would take Xyla a few hours to get here.

  Three cups of tea later, I felt the dragon’s approaching presence. Relief flooded me that soon, proper help for Breyard would be here.

  Two huge shapes—not just one—came into view, blocking the stars with their wingspans. Xyla and Edin landed, and soon several human forms approached. Yallick, the mage who’d agreed to apprentice me. Oleeda, a master from the magic academy I’d run away from and who secretly was also a mage. And Traz, my ten-year-old traveling companion. I wondered how he’d convinced the mages to let him come.

  “Well, young lady,” Yallick said as he strode into the firelight and cast me the deepest, darkest frown he ever had. “What is this all about?”

  Worrying about that girl will be the death of me. If it is not one thing, it is another. Or another. How her parents ever survived her childhood is beyond my power of imagination.

  Yet look at what she has done, what she has accomplished at so young an age ... not yet sixteen. I am proud, when I am not tempted to strangle her.

  And her parents will be proud, too, when they learn the full tale. The return of the red dragons from their long exile! A thing I never expected to see!

  Though go we to rest now,

  say not thou “defeat.”

  The power of ages

  again shall be meet.

  Ascent from the ashes,

  Descent from the stars,

  The power of ages

  once more shall be ours.

  A strong one will quicken

  and harvest alone.

  The power of ages

  to lead us all home.

  They are home now, and they are mighty, but what of their power? We shall see; we shall see, indeed.