Date: 2011-10-23 04:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Fantasy
Description: For 2,000 years, the ageless dragon has slept. Now the ancient spell that holds the fearsome creature captive is fading. A young girl, the first sorceress to be born in generations, is all that stands between the dragon and the dragon’s unrelenting hunger for human blood. Centuries in the past, Malcon Sylvar the greatest sorcerer of his age cast a powerful spell putting the dragon to sleep. In doing so, he died in the dragon’s lair and sorcery vanished from the world. Now Lynol is beginning to develop abilities that have been absent from her family for many long generations. She knows these ne
Publisher: amazon.com

Gilmreth the Awakening

A Dragon Dreams Novel

(Dragon Dreams, Book 3)

By

Raymond L. Weil

USA Today Best Selling Author

Books in the Dragon Dreams Series

Dragon Wars (Book 1)

Snowden the White Dragon (Book 2)

Gilmreth (Book 3)

Firestorm Mountain (Book 4)

All books were updated in July of 2019

Website: http://raymondlweil.com/

Copyright © October 2011 by Raymond L. Weil

All Rights Reserved

Cover Design by James, GoOnWrite.com

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.

Table of Contents

Gilmreth

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

PROLOGUE

Gilmreth

Deep below the snow-covered mountain, the ancient dragon stirred lethargically in its cold, dark lair beneath the mysterious, towering mountain called Firestorm Mountain. Upon the high, stony ceiling of the dragon’s lair dripping water had leached lime from the ancient stone of the mountain, forming grotesque and distorted stalactites. Upon the tips of these, water condensed into small droplets to plummet away into the blackness below.

The occasional falling water drops echoed in the vast chamber as they struck the small pool on the cavern’s floor. It was the only sound other than the shallow breathing of the sleeping dragon. Upon the surface of the pool, shallow ripples raced as they formed after each splashing droplet.

Small white fish, which had adapted to feeding in the dark, prowled the coal black water. The small, turbid fish spent their lives feeding upon the few sparse aquatic plants and microscopic organisms that thrived in the pool’s dark depths.

In ancient times, the sleeping dragon had been the largest and most fearsome of its kind. It was a specter of deadly power, with flame spouting from its mouth to scorch the helpless earth below. The dragon’s flame turned everything it touched into black, smoldering ashes, leaving behind an unearthly, sterilized wasteland.

For untold centuries, the ageless dragon spread fear and death as it ranged the world, searching for sustenance to feed an ever-growing ravenous appetite. Defenseless village after village fell victim to the dragon’s unending hunger. They were burned to the ground with their populations decimated, leaving the survivors fleeing in small groups in unashamed terror and shock.

The dragon was all-powerful, and no power upon the Earth could threaten or stop it. Anyone that stood in its path met a horrendous and agonizing death from the dragon’s unforgiving fiery breath or its deadly talons.

Other dragons had once existed, but these Gilmreth had killed one by one, feeding on their powerful life force. Even this hadn’t satisfied the dragon’s ever-growing craving for sustenance. A life extending force that humans seemed to satisfy more than any other creature upon the Earth and then only briefly. For that reason, Gilmreth fed in an uncontrolled frenzy upon humans, gorging himself on the life force he desired so fervently.

A faint rumbling reverberated through the immense cavern, an indication of an avalanche of loose dirt, rock, and snow upon the steep, frozen slopes above. Sluggishly forcing open one large, yellowish-red eye, its horizontal pupil a dark slit of the deepest black, Gilmreth shifted his ponderous weight before succumbing back into a deep, nearly dreamless, slumber.

For a brief moment, the dragon’s massive, evil heart had beaten a little faster, its cold blood pumped through its veins a little quicker. A partial thought had formed in the dragon’s ravaged, demented mind before everything returned to never ending, unconquerable darkness. Inside the creature, the deep burning fire had briefly flared, then lessened. It had never been completely stilled. Gilmreth’s dark, grayish wrinkled skin had the look of coarse, dry leather. The dragon’s massive wings lay folded about the great sleeping beast. Its tail, with poisonous twin red barbs, was laid out behind, ready to strike at any danger.

For over a thousand years, the dragon had slumbered quiescently. Gilmreth was held captive by an incantation cast upon the deadly dragon by the world’s last great sorcerer. The ancient enchantment was finally beginning to weaken. When it weakened sufficiently, the dragon would awake and rise to feed.

Up above, only in fading legends were dragons still remembered. Their stories told quietly, almost hesitantly around a late night campfire, or whispered nervously between weary travelers staying at the small inns in the few remaining villages and towns. Most of humankind questioned dragons ever existing, and the mastery of sorcery had become a myth a mere legend.

The greatest of these ancient legends was the story of Gilmreth, the most deadly and the last of the immortal dragons. Over the fleeting centuries, even that fearsome legend had gradually dimmed. Gilmreth had become a fairy tale. A fairy tale that, unknown to most of humankind, slept in the dark, protective depths of Firestorm Mountain, waiting to awaken. That time was growing near. Sometime in the near future, the sleeping spell would lose its powerful hold on the great dragon. When that happened, Gilmreth would be free once more.

Gilmreth the Awakening

A Dragon Dreams Novel

Chapter One

Near an insignificant farming village, several miles away to the east of Firestorm Mountain, a young girl named Lynol Sylvar stared worriedly toward the towering mountain, still blanketed in slowly melting snow. Even now, in early summer, the white patches only stubbornly gave way bit by bit to reveal the hidden mountain of dark, frozen rock sheltered beneath. Firestorm Mountain stood dominantly above the other mountains, its jagged heights towering over the other barren peaks.

The sky was a deep, hungry blue, with only a few, inconsequential fleece white clouds drifting aimlessly in the light wind, barely grazing the distant mountaintops. Lynol was standing upon the well-worn stone path near the large, rambling stone farmhouse, which she called home. She watched the sun as it began to drop away reluctantly toward the rugged peaks, their flanks a patchwork of desolate gray and black rock. Lynol’s light blue eyes seemed to glow with a quiet brilliance of their own in the fading afternoon sunlight as she gazed upon the distant mountain. Her fine-textured skin was darkened to a warm brown from daily exposure to the sun, and her shoulder length brown hair was tied back with a single bright blue ribbon.

“What mysteries do you hide?” asked Lynol, voicing the question quietly. She stared poignantly at the mysterious mountain with ever-growing apprehension. She took a deep breath, slowly letting it out, her youthful breasts rising and falling, listening as the mountain rumbled menacingly in the distance. “Gilmreth, is that you causing the mountain to rumble? Are you stirring in the deep bowels of the earth?” she whispered uneasily, her eyes wide gazing questionably at the ancient mountain.

Well was she aware of the dragon that slept beneath and the dangerous threat the evil creature represented. Scarcely a day passed that she didn’t think about or worry about the dragon. It was a part of her heritage, embedded in the long Sylvar family history, for her family and the sleeping dragon were very intricately linked.

Lynol had just passed her sixteenth spring and lived with her father in the family farmstead just outside the small agricultural village of Galvin. Her meager education consisted of six years of schooling by the older women of the village, who served as Keepers of the village’s long history. Lynol had learned how to read, write, and do elementary math problems. The older women had also taught her how to prepare the healing herbs and perform the other duties expected of a young adolescent woman of the village.

Much of the teaching Lynol assimilated quickly, almost effortlessly. The elderly Keepers had become uncomfortably nervous by Lynol’s ability to learn so easily and her voracious appetite for knowledge. She had read every book in the village’s small library and every other book she could locate in the small agricultural community. Lynol was extremely inquisitive about nearly everything. Her father humorously had once said it seemed as if Lynol’s mind was always full of a thousand questions waiting to be answered; answer one question and ten more would pop up. Lynol would only smile back at her father and then ask another question.

“Why such a glum look?” a warm, masculine voice asked curiously from beside her.

Startled, Lynol blinked in surprise as she looked about, seeing her father with his thick, sandy hair graying slightly at the temples standing beside her. His walking staff was held loosely in his large, suntanned right hand, his brown eyes twinkling in his squareish face, mouth turned upwards in a slight smile as he gazed at Lynol. Her face flushed slightly as she wondered just how long he had been standing there and if he had heard her talking to herself. She needed to break that particular habit. At least she wasn’t answering herself yet!

“It’s the mountain father; it rumbles louder every day. I fear that Gilmreth may be awakening,” she replied with deep concern touching the edge of her youthful, vibrant voice.

“Gilmreth, again,” her father grumbled, noticing her expression, the ghost of a smile vanishing quickly from his rugged face to be replaced by a worrisome frown.

He turned to gaze with annoyance toward the distant, towering mountain, where a muffled fading rumble was barely audible. A puffy white cloud momentarily covered the summit, moving slowly across the mountain. Well did he know, in grim detail, the family legends of what hideous peril lay hidden in its bottomless black depths. Almost in tune with his thoughts, the small white cloud began to cover the sun, casting a long, ominous shadow over the countryside, almost like a warning of dark and dangerous things to come.

“The legends say that Malcon Sylvar put Gilmreth into a deep sleep over a thousand years ago, incarcerating the dragon in his lair. In doing so, he sacrificed his own life to appease the powerful spell that he was forced to weave to bind the great dragon,” Damon spoke in a calm voice, his eyes sharp, almost glowing, repeating part of the old legend with which they were both familiar.

Lynol stood listening and watching Firestorm Mountain as the sun reappeared from behind the small, protective white cloud, casting its warm rays of light across the mountain once more. Another dim, threatening rumble echoed in the distance. She wished the mountain would quiet down. She shifted uneasily on her feet, trying her best to ignore the rumbling and pay attention to her father.

Raising an eyebrow and relaxing his face into a weak reassuring smile, Damon continued trying to take Lynol’s mind off the mountain. “For generations our family has lived in the shadow of Firestorm Mountain; there’s nothing to fear.”

“I know, Father, but there is so much rumbling coming from the mountain recently,” Lynol replied apprehensively, looking into her father’s warm eyes.

“We can only do what we have always done, Lynol,” Damon spoke, his forehead creasing slightly. “We tell the stories of Malcon Sylvar and Gilmreth to the villagers lest anyone forgets the dragon that sleeps beneath, and the final sacrifice of Malcon.”

“But what if the dragon does awake, what shall we do?” Lynol persisted the fear creeping into her young voice. She had felt so uneasy since the mountain started rumbling. It was even affecting her sleep.

“Fear not, my daughter; the dragon has slept for over a thousand years,” continued Damon, feeling some of Lynol’s concerns himself but not wanting to alarm her by voicing them.  “Malcon’s sleeping spell was a powerfully woven one, and not so easily broken. There are no longer sorcerers in the land, and it would take a mighty sorcerer indeed, the likes of which this world hasn’t seen since the Golden Age itself, to break Malcon’s final spell. The dragon will continue to sleep long after we’re gone.”

“But what if there is a new sorcerer, or even a sorceress?” Lynol asked with an odd catch in her voice, her light blue eyes looking questionably at her father, daring to voice her hidden fear. “What if there is someone we haven’t heard about who has learned how to wield the ancient power? Perhaps there is some way to awaken Gilmreth that we know nothing about. If this sorcerer is responsible for the mountain’s rumbling, couldn’t Gilmreth awaken prematurely? What would we do?”

She didn’t share in her father’s deep conviction that the dragon would continue to sleep, or that Malcon’s spell was unbreakable. There was a reason why their family had stayed in the shadows of the ancient mountain and Gilmreth’s lair all these long years; Malcon Sylvar was Lynol’s distant ancestor! That was why the Sylvars had stayed at the ancient homestead, to keep alive the story of Malcon and the great dragon and to wait for the day when the dragon would rise again.

If the old legends and prophecies were true, it could also hold a very dangerous and dire significance for Lynol. Something ominous had been stirring deep within her recently. She had been experiencing a troubled foreboding that wouldn’t go away, almost as if some mysterious force was trying to forewarn her of impending danger.

Somewhere out there, her inner self was telling her, an unknown sorceress was practicing the ancient arts, stirring the lines of power that flowed through the air, water, and earth. She didn’t understand how she knew; she just did. Somehow, Lynol could faintly sense the awesome magical power being used. She was only sixteen, and this newfound knowledge frightened her. She didn’t know how to tell her father what she suspected.

The sorceress was causing the mountain to rumble inadvertently as a side effect of her use of sorcery on Gilmreth. Lynol had been sensing this sorcery; it was like a fiery beacon blazing in her mind. At first she hadn’t realized what it was, but as she learned to focus her mind upon the beacon, she could sense the sorcery being used. The sorceress was trying to desecrate Malcon’s spell! For the first time in over one thousand long years, a new and powerful sorceress had come into the world; a sorceress bent on awakening Gilmreth!

Lynol shuddered at the very thought of that danger. How could she convince her father, how could she explain how she knew this to be true? She shifted uneasily on her feet, focusing her eyes back on her father, unsure of what to say. There was just so much she didn’t understand. She dare not voice her newfound knowledge. How would she explain it? It was in her deepest dreams, an inner sense that she couldn’t explain. Just as you knew the sun would come up in the morning, she knew the sorceress was real.

“Even the villagers no longer believe the story of Gilmreth and Malcon Sylvar. They scoff whenever we mention the ancient story of the battle and of Malcon’s ultimate sacrifice,” Lynol said sadly, flashing her light blue eyes defiantly back toward the distant mountain in the slowly fading sunlight. She took a deep breath and slowly let it out.

The rumbling had finally stilled; a welcome silence came at last from the ancient mountain. Lynol began to feel calmer as she gazed at the waiting peak that so overshadowed her young life. She had so many questions, but as always, most remained unanswered. She knew now wasn’t the time to worry her father or talk about this new sorceress; it would have to wait until she could explain everything better. How could she tell her father she just had a feeling there was a new sorceress? It would sound like a story made up by a frightened young girl. Sometimes she wished she were older.

She had always known she was different somehow from her father and friends. Animals were completely unafraid of her. She could coax birds into landing upon her extended arm if she concentrated upon calling them with her mind. She could induce a squirrel into leaving the cozy shelter of its nest and take a cracked nut from the open palm of her hand. Lynol’s heightened sense of perception could tell when a storm was brewing before it even came down from the distant mountains. She had some mysterious inner power that was slowly strengthening day by day. Was she the one spoken of in the ancient prophecies? Had she inherited some of Malcon’s ancient powers?

The ancient prophecies foretold that a powerful sorceress of Malcon’s blood would come forth with the awakening of Gilmreth. That was why the rumbling from the mountain frightened her; why the actions of the other sorceress made her so anxious. Other than her father, she was the only direct descendent of Malcon currently living.

Lynol focused her attention back on her father, waiting for his response. She often wondered if her father had the same fears. Was he worried that Gilmreth might be awakening? However, sorcery had been absent from their family for many generations. No one in her family in recent memory had been able to use sorcery. It was as if it had completely ceased to exist. A power that had once been so rampant in her family had vanished after Malcon’s sacrifice.

Lynol wondered where the other sorceress she had been sensing had come from. It was mystifying and troublesome. She shook her head slowly, trying to clear her thoughts.

Damon was silent for a long moment, shifting his weight, leaning forward on his staff, and suppressing a sigh. He could see Lynol was still skeptical and extremely worried. “Sorcery has long been gone from our family; it died out when Malcon put Gilmreth to sleep, and it will not return for a very long time. I think Malcon made sure of that when he put the dragon to sleep with the sleeping spell.”

“How can we be sure?” interjected Lynol, raising her voice slightly and gazing down the narrow stone path toward the waiting garden. Gardening always helped put her mind at ease.

She was thinking of her own budding abilities. There was no longer any doubt in her young mind that the ancient power of their family, so long dormant, had somehow managed to manifest itself within her. Her ability to sense the other sorceress in her dreams and at other times only helped to confirm what she already believed, what she was beginning to fear. She had inherited the ancient powers of sorcery; at least some of them. After so many long centuries, sorcery had returned to the Sylvar family. She wondered worriedly just what that meant or implied. Lynol could feel butterflies in her stomach at just the thought. She had spent many sleepless nights recently worrying over this.

“There have been no sorcerers,” her father reiterated, shaking his head. “Some say they were linked, sorcery and dragons. When Gilmreth was put to sleep, sorcery also faded away.”

“But the old legends and prophecies all say Gilmreth will awaken someday,” Lynol spoke meaningfully, her gaze poignantly returning to her father.

Her father had told her many of the family legends and stories about the Sylvars and Gilmreth. As a child, they had stayed up late into the night, Lynol tucked safely away in her bed and her father sitting in a chair next to her telling stories about the distant past. He told her of the marvelous wonders the ancient Sylvar sorcerers had been able to do. His stories were wonderful and she could sit and listen to them for hours.

Damon looked deeply into Lynol’s troubled light blue eyes wondering what to say to ease his daughter’s fear. “Yes, someday Gilmreth will rise from his sheltered lair beneath Firestorm Mountain,” he replied slowly, carefully measuring his words. “The prophecy from Malcon’s time does indeed predict that the dragon will be met in an irrevocable final confrontation, a cataclysmic battle by another Sylvar. A powerful sorceress will arise to combat the awakened dragon in our time of need, but that time hasn’t yet arrived.”

Nevertheless, deep in his heart Damon felt apprehensive. He knew that something was different this time. The rumblings from the mountain greatly disturbed him also, but he was unwilling to admit that worrisome fact to Lynol. A vague discontent was steadily growing in the back of his mind. His detailed knowledge of the prophecies only reinforced that worry. He knew much more about the prophecies than what he had revealed to Lynol. He had spent many waking hours pondering the mountain’s rumblings. He prayed fervently that it wasn’t the dragon!

“Suppose Gilmreth is awakening? Could sorcery not come back also? Could there not be someone who could wield the ancient power like the prophecy predicts?” Lynol asked as her gaze drifted back toward the mountain, wondering fearfully if she might be that chosen someone.

Her abilities were so insignificant when compared to the rumored powers of the prominent sorcerers and sorceresses in their family’s distant past. It just couldn’t be her that the ancient prophecies spoke about. Lynol felt so confused about the sensations she was feeling. Who else but a direct descendent of Malcon’s would sorcery awake in?

She had always kept her unique talents to herself. Could the awakening of the dragon be what was causing these strange abilities to manifest within her? As the dragon neared the time of awakening, could sorcery be returning? With a cold shiver, she pulled her gaze away from the now quiet mountain. She would be no threat to the mighty dragon; her abilities were extremely small. She couldn’t be the powerful sorceress of the prophecies, they must be meant for one of her distant offspring, for children yet to be born.

Then again, there was that other sorceress who she could faintly sense if she concentrated. The sorceress on the far side of the mountain felt like a shadowy, dark presence. Nowhere in the prophecies, that Lynol was aware of, did it mention another sorceress other than a Sylvar arising when Gilmreth awakened. Had this other found some way to shatter Malcon’s spell, to awaken Gilmreth prematurely, to wreck havoc with the prophecies, and if so, why bring the fearsome dragon back?

Perhaps Lynol’s own emerging powers were merely coincidence. Gilmreth had spread enormous devastation in the past and would do so again if freed. She prayed silently that the dragon would remain asleep. If Gilmreth were to rise, then the world she knew and so loved could very easily vanish in the dragon’s merciless wave of destruction. The powerful Sylvar sorceress of the ancient prophecy had yet to be born. There would be nobody to stop the dragon!

“What are you trying to say, Lynol? We both know the stories,” responded Damon, shaking his head wearily and looking down toward the far green meadow.

A single black cow and black white-faced calf grazed peacefully on the thick green grass, having ignored the ominous stirrings of the mountain. “There have been rumblings in the mountain before,” spoke Damon, reassuringly. “I remember them even from my own youth. Don’t worry, Lynol; Gilmreth isn’t about to awaken. He will sleep for many more long years. We tell the ancient stories to the villagers; if they choose not to believe, that is their right. We have done our sworn duty. Now finish your chores and quit worrying about the mountain. I’m sure it’s only avalanches from the melting snow. Once the snow has finished melting, the mountain will quite down.”

Putting his powerful right hand on Lynol’s shoulder, Damon squeezed reassuringly then turning, walked off to finish checking the stock in the distant fields.

The few cattle and sheep they raised, along with the garden that Lynol tended, furnished practically all of their food. They used the excess to barter in Galvin for other necessities. It was all that people could do anymore to cajole the depleted land into providing a meager sustenance.

Some said the soil was dying, no longer able to provide the abundant harvests of the obscure, remote past. Even the number of people living in the few scattered villages and towns were reputed to be far fewer than back in the days of Malcon Sylvar.

The oldest of the legends spoke of a great Worldfire that had consumed the magnificent cities of the ancient world and freed the dragons. This great Worldfire, along with the dragons, had poisoned much of the countryside. Glancing at the distant mountain, Damon felt a shiver run down his back. It was his responsibility as a father to protect Lynol. He didn’t want her to be overly worried about the mountain and the horrible creature that slept within. Surely, it’s not the dragon he thought; it’s too early for Gilmreth to awaken. It’s only the melting snow causing the mountain to rumble, it has to be! With a deep sigh, Damon headed toward the meadow to check on the animals.

-

Brushing a few errant strands of thick brown hair back out of her eyes, Lynol began walking down the well worn stone path that led from the house to the garden, thinking about the conversation with her father. Generations of Sylvars had trod this path, polishing the rough black stones down over the years until they were worn perfectly smooth. Lynol preferred to tend the garden in the evening hours when it was cooler; during this time of year the afternoon sun could be sweltering. Her father had commented that each year seemed to be warmer than the last with less and less rain.

As she walked, she suddenly felt lightheaded and nauseous. Lynol paused, afraid she was about to faint, wondering why she suddenly felt so ill. Her throat felt dry, and her breathing seemed to slow down. She tried to call out to her father, but no sound escaped from her throat. A strange, controlling compulsion seized her. Her body seemed to take on a separate life of its own, as if in a dream. She knew that she was walking, but not into the garden. Almost in a daze, she found herself suddenly and inexplicably standing in front of the massive Sylvar Stone, which lay just beyond their modest garden.

Lynol blinked in surprise as she looked about frightened and confused. The nausea and lightheadedness suddenly faded. She couldn’t remember walking over to the ancient stone. Nervous perspiration blossomed on her cheeks, tiny beads slightly smaller than dewdrops. Lynol stood perfectly still, only the slight rise and fall of the gentle swell of full young breasts spoke of life. She took several deep breaths, trying to relax.

She stared bewildered, not understanding why or how she had come to stand before the ancient stone. A wrinkle of curiosity slowly touched Lynol’s face. She wondered for a brief moment if this was all a dream. She speculated that if she pinched herself if she would wake up to find herself tucked snugly into her bed. Lynol looked up at the towering stone before her knowing that this wasn’t a dream; she was fully awake. What is going on, she wondered? She looked around confused, and then her eyes returned to the massive stone before her.

The immense grayish, black stone towered over three man-heights high and was nearly as wide. Around it, other large broken stones lay on their sides. They lay smashed as if from an enormous physical blow, which had hammered them sometime in the distant past. Lynol had long suspected that a grand structure of some kind had once stood upon this spot, perhaps even a castle from the Golden Age itself. All that remained now were scattered, smashed ruins and numerous shattered stones. Nearly two acres of land lay covered with the broken ruins, with thick, lush yellow grass growing nearly knee high shielding many of the smaller stones from sight.

Lynol had asked her father about the ruins several times, but he had always been evasive with his answers. Thus far, the secret of what once stood here had eluded Lynol’s questions. Perhaps someday she would be able to coax the secret of the mysterious ruins from her father.

There were arcane symbols and writings carved into the hard surface of the huge stone. Lynol had long been curious about their meaning. Within the ancient, flowing script was the family name, Sylvar. A handprint beneath a shining full moon, which cast brilliant rays down to touch the stone, had been burned into it at chest height. What its hidden meaning or message was had been long lost in antiquity.

Legends passed down through the generations maintained that Malcon Sylvar himself had placed the family name on the stone. The handprint was Malcon’s own, burned forever into the grayish, black stone with his powerful sorcery.

Putting out her own hand, Lynol gingerly touched the ancient handprint, tracing the stone outlines curiously with the tips of her fingers. Impulsively, she placed her hand flat against the cold, unyielding surface. The man who had created the print must have been a large man indeed, Lynol thought, staring at her small hand, which seemed almost lost in the huge print. What had Malcon Sylvar been like, she wondered? Gazing at the stone, she tried to visualize the man who had played such a prominent role in their family history. His actions had so affected all the Sylvars since that time so long ago.

As soon as she tried to visualize Malcon Sylvar, a strange weakness seemed to pass over her. She felt faint, as if her strength was being siphoned from her body. What now, she wondered, startled at the strange feelings? What’s happening to me?

Suddenly, a pale blue light flashed and snapped across the handprint, surprising her, and a loud crack echoed through the air. She gasped in surprise, feeling a sharp burning sensation run through her fingers and palm where her hand gently rested against the hard stone, which was now, inexplicably, turning fiery hot. A strong compulsion seemed to imprison her firmly in its power, preventing her from jerking her hand away.

Try as she might, her hand was held captive by the stone. It became engulfed in a bright ocean of blue radiance, which seemed to pulse intermittently like a giant heartbeat. She felt as if her hand was burning. A silent scream froze in her throat, unable to escape. Lynol looked around frantically for her father, wanting to shout for help, but he was nowhere in sight! What had she gotten herself into? Her gaze returned apprehensively to the stone.

Lynol held her breath, frightened by what was happening. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t free her hand. The stone held her prisoner, her hand trapped in the handprint covered in cascading blue fire. In her mind, a sharp, clear picture suddenly formed of her standing before the stone with the shining full moon directly overhead. Lynol gasped in surprise and fear at what she was seeing, letting out her long held breath.

She could see herself placing her hand upon the handprint as the moon’s pale light fell fully upon the stone and saying the name Malcon Sylvar aloud. That was what the vision was showing her, as clear as the sudden wind whipping quietly through the tall grass around the stone. It blew her hair and she shivered slightly, for the air had taken on a sudden, enigmatic chill. Her heart was pounding! She waited for it to return to its normal rhythm. Never in her young life had she experienced anything remotely like this.

What can this mean? She wondered, amazed at the clarity of the vision. Her fear was slowly abating, her breathing returning to normal. The pulsing blue light suddenly faded from the stone. Lynol found her hand once more resting on the hard, unyielding surface, which was now free of the fiery radiance from moments before. The sudden chill wind had also vanished.

She stepped quickly back, her hand coming free of the handprint effortlessly. For a long moment, she stared in surprise and confusion at the towering, mysterious and now inanimate Sylvar Stone, waiting for an explanation she knew wouldn’t be forthcoming. This had never occurred before; other times in the past, she had touched the stone. It had never reacted at all to her touch. As a child, she had played amongst the stones countless times with her childhood friends Kalvin and Dresdia.

Cautiously, she stepped forward, gingerly placing her hand back in the handprint, seeing if she could induce another reaction, but the stone remained unresponsive. She stood without making a sound for several long moments, pondering the stone. The vision was still clear in her mind. She wondered what it might mean and if it involved sorcery. Why had Malcon chosen this particular time to reveal this message?

She prayed fervently that the impending awakening of the dragon hadn’t caused this vision. More importantly, why had this vision been given to her, and why now? She didn’t like where the possible ramifications led. It just made everything even more confusing. She wondered if it had anything to do with her own newly awakened abilities.

Mystified, she turned away from the stone and entered the garden, massaging her still tingling fingers. Looking at her hand, she noticed with relief that no burn marks were visible and the tingling sensation was rapidly fading away. The blue light had startled her. Where had the chill wind come from? It was still unusually warm for this time of the evening.

Turning, she gazed back at the Sylvar Stone, wondering what ancient secrets it held. For several long moments, she gazed perplexed at the massive stone, lost in thought. It had to be sorcery of some type left behind by Malcon Sylvar himself; sorcery that she had somehow triggered. She gazed at the distant mountain, worriedly.

A cold hand seemed to grip her heart as she wondered at the implications. There was no longer any doubt in Lynol’s mind; sorcery had returned, and she was part of it! This incident at the Sylvar Stone just confirmed her suspicions. She was surprised at how quickly the episode at the stone seemed to be fading into the back of her mind; it already seemed like a distant dream.

Shaking her head, she turned back to the garden and the work awaiting her. Bending, she began going down the long rows of green vegetables pulling out the weeds, which had appeared seemingly overnight, with the recent vision still lingering hauntingly in the back of her mind. The cool freshness of the garden, laden with the scents of growing vegetables and herbs, helped to relax her. The garden was silent except for the quiet drone of insects.

-

Sometime later, in the town of Draydon on the far side of the mountains, Jalene Leyne stood staring intently at Firestorm Mountain. From her position on the fringe of a small second story balcony, a light wind cooling her face and gently blowing her coal black hair, she had a clear, unobstructed view of the mystical mountain. Her eyes were a deep violet, almost black, masking carefully controlled, seething emotions. Her hips were thin, kept that way by stringent exercise. Her high, full pointed breasts, which served wantonly to distract men when necessary, were more than ample. She was staying at a small, comfortable inn and had just come out to stand on the open balcony where she could see the distant mountain.

“Sleep for now, Gilmreth; your time of awakening nears,” she murmured quietly, sensing with her growing power the dragon’s dark comforting presence deep beneath the mountain. Gilmreth’s heart was kindred to her own: cold, ruthless, and filled with anger. Turning, she walked back into the simple, sparsely furnished room. Going to the small bed, she unlaced the protective leather straps on her bulky and worn leather pack. Opening it, she took out an ancient book bound in a thick, protective cloth.

Removing the layers of cloth carefully, Jalene carried the large book to the room’s only table. Laying it down, Jalene opened it and slowly turned the ancient yellowed pages until she came to her prize, the dragon spell! Returning to the pack, another few moments of rummaging produced a small, sharp, double-edged knife with jewels and arcane symbols emblazoned on its intricately carved golden hilt. She also took out a small copper bowl.

Placing these meticulously on the small wooden table, she proceeded to add some special herbs and ingredients called for by the ancient spell. She had purchased these necessary items in the town’s crowded marketplace earlier in the day. She had used the last of her own supply of these rare items the night before. Along with these, she added some carefully hoarded flower petals from rare plants, which she had gathered during the dark of the moon, the only time these rare nocturnal plants blossomed.

Taking out a small pouch made of dried human skin, she methodically poured out a dark crimson powdery substance onto a small sheet of white paper. Carefully measuring out a minuscule amount, she placed the rest back securely in the pouch. This was all that remained of the ground up dried heart of an innocent newborn lamb, whose still beating heart she had removed from the stricken animal just moments before it died.

Carefully mixing the ingredients together, she ground them down into a thick, reddish-tinged paste. Taking up the small sharp knife in her right hand, she marveled briefly at its masterful workmanship. With this knife, she would set Gilmreth free, for it was a spell knife; a special knife created by an ancient sorcerer to enact the dragon spell!

She then wove the fingers of her left hand through an intricate pattern while speaking the incantation needed to invoke the beginning of the powerful spell. Red fire seemed to radiate from her fingertips in mysterious, nebulous interconnected lines. The small copper bowl began to glow with a soft red spectral light. Pressing the sharp, shiny blade of the knife against the soft yielding skin of her left wrist, she felt a sudden, sharp pain as she made a shallow incision. Instantly, red blood welled up. Turning her wrist over Jalene watched, with a near demonic gleam in her eyes, as the warm blood dripped slowly into the waiting copper bowl. As the final ingredient was added, the bowl began to glow brighter.

Stirring the mixture slowly, she watched with growing exhilaration as it began to bubble and smolder. A foul, acrid stench rose up, pervading the room. As it did so, she began reciting the rest of the ancient words of the dragon spell, her voice flowing smoothly. She spoke in the old tongue, repeating the words in a steady rhythm, chanting the spell out in a clear, confident voice. Each syllable pronounced with the correct pitch and inflection.

Jalene’s eyes glazed over with anticipation as the power of the spell washed over her. For a brief moment, the room became awash in a bright red radiance as the fiery weave of the spell was invoked. Jalene became encompassed by a brilliant red glow that seemed to radiate from her body, pulsing with the steady beating of her heart. It drew energy from her very being, penetrating to her soul. She then directed the energy toward distant Firestorm Mountain and the sleeping dragon hidden far beneath.

-

In the deep cavern beneath the mountain, Gilmreth stirred again as the mountain groaned and trembled. A fiery radiance played over the massive length of his body, interacting with the protective sleeping spell holding the dragon captive. The great dragon’s wings flexed as long dormant muscles responded sluggishly to the spell. The dragon’s twin barbed tail quivered and rose jerkily above the cavern floor, to fall slowly back down to its timeless resting place. Energy flowed around the dragon’s mind, some of it spilling over to shake the very mountain itself. A red, pulsating radiance filled and flowed through the cavern. The fish in the small pool fled to its deep protective depths to escape the sudden disturbance. The energy pulled at and absorbed some of the power from the potent sleeping spell that held Gilmreth in its sway, weakening it even further.

Finally, the energy abated and died away, leaving the mountain rumbling ominously in its wake, the cavern once again shielded in unyielding darkness. The mountain would continue to rumble, possibly for hours, as loosened snow, stone, and dirt from the mountain slid down the steep slopes.

-

Jalene felt a wave of dizziness wash over her. For a moment, her body felt weak and drained of strength. She stood still leaning against the table, her knees trembling. After a few moments, her strength began to return and the dizziness and trembling gradually faded. She was finished with the incantation.

Walking slowly over to the washstand by the door, Jalene poured herself a large glass of fresh water. She took a deep drink, feeling her strength returning and began to relax. Going back to the wooden table, she picked up the copper bowl, returned to the washstand, and rinsed it out. Then she carefully put everything back in her backpack.

Next, she bandaged her wrist with a special poultice of herbs, voicing a simple, ancient healing spell that would cause the small incision to heal completely by morning. Her other wrist was bandaged similarly from the spell she had cast only a few hours earlier.

The bloodletting was only a minor inconvenience compared to what she hoped to achieve. Her horrid childhood would be avenged a thousand times over before she was through. For a brief moment, her dark eyes glowed in near paranoia at the vivid memories of her youth, but then the glow faded and her face returned to normal. Memories from her past were better left alone and not dwelt upon too often.

By dawn’s early light, she would scour the old shops of the town in search of more ancient writings. Towns and villages in such close proximity to the ancient mountain were rich repositories of old lore, forgotten books, and sometimes artifacts whose uses had long been forgotten. If she did find any of those things, they would be hers if she wanted them. She had a way of getting whatever she wanted!

Stepping out once more onto the balcony, Jalene peered out at the stone paved street below. Her dark, sunken eyes were unblinking as they searched automatically for traces of movement. Very few people were about; most of the small shops were closed. She shook her head slowly with her mouth drawn into a tired, taut line. Closing the door to the small balcony behind her, Jalene extinguished the flickering oil lamp on the wooden shelf above the nightstand, sending the room into a dim twilight. Lying down on the bed, she quickly fell into a deep, restless slumber, exhausted by the power the ancient dragon spell had taken from her body.

She dreamed of her childhood, one spent in poverty and pain, her body shivering in a cold sweat. Her mother had been raped at a very young age, and Jalene was the progeny of that sinful deed. Her mother never let her forget; never showed her the love or attention other children received from their parents.

Jalene could still remember vividly the numerous beatings and being locked for days on end in her room nearly starving. She would plead and beg her mother to release her from captivity, but to no avail. Nothing she did ever pleased her mother; the woman was always screaming at her in blinding fits of rage, constantly blaming Jalene for her misfortune, for everything that went wrong in her miserable, wretched life.

Eventually, Jalene ran away from home, stealing her food and clothes wherever she could find them. Then one day, she found a weathered book on sorcery in some forgotten old ruins where she had taken refuge from the weather. Jalene had learned to read from an old woman who had taken her in briefly during the previous winter. Out of curiosity, Jalene had tried to invoke a simple spell. It had worked and from that time on Jalene had taken whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted it! Now she wanted Gilmreth, and with her growing knowledge of sorcery Gilmreth was a little closer to awakening, a little closer to being her servant, her slave. Finally, her dreams faded, and Jalene slept.

-

Lynol finished her gardening and returned to the cool stone farmhouse to prepare the evening meal for herself and her father. She felt a frigid chill run through her as the mountain rumbled loudly one final time, as if icy cold fingers were walking slowly across her unprotected back. The sensation vanished as quickly as it had come, leaving her standing and shivering in the fading sunlight.

She looked with apprehension at the snow-covered heights of Firestorm Mountain, now almost shrouded in darkness. In reality, she knew the feeling was related to the new sorceress. She had sensed that blazing beacon flare up briefly once more a few minutes earlier. What was the new sorceress up to? What did it have to do with Gilmreth?

Should she tell her father what she feared and why she was so apprehensive? It would mean telling him about her fledgling abilities as well. Should she tell him about what had happened tonight at the Sylvar Stone? Lynol paused, paralyzed by indecision, and then shook it off. It was something she needed to think about and how it would affect her father. She had always respected his well thought out advice.

Lynol’s gaze roamed across the massive wooden furniture in the kitchen, trying to decide what she should do. She felt like the answer was floating just on the edge of her consciousness. She knew if she told her father it would only worry him. Lynol sighed heavily, her mind a confused turmoil of mixed emotions and thoughts. She wished there was something in the house to help her. What she needed was an old book or scroll that might tell her how to use her new abilities.

The old farmhouse was built out of heavy gray stones, quarried with arduous tenacity from the base of the mountains. The stones had been chiseled painstakingly into blocks to form the foundation and walls. The Sylvars had lived in the large, roomy home for generations. Many rooms in the old rambling house had been closed off as the size of the family had slowly dwindled, until only Lynol and her father remained.

She still had a few distant second and third cousins, but no other close relatives. As far as she knew, she was the last of the long, ancient line of direct blood descendants of Malcon. Lynol sighed once more and returned to her work of cutting up the vegetables for the evening meal; she had much to think about.

Chapter Two

Lynol absentmindedly stirred the simmering stew in the large, cast iron cooking pot suspended over the glowing fireplace, wishing that she knew more about the ancient ways of Malcon Sylvar. The tantalizing aroma of fresh onions, green peppers, potatoes, and beef mingling pervaded the air. The back of the old stone fireplace was scorched from generations of cooking and burning fires that had warmed the Sylvar family. Picking up a small wooden spoon, Lynol took a cautious sip of the hot stew after blowing gently on the contents. Needs a little more salt, she noticed, with the taste of the stew still lingering tantalizingly on the tip of her tongue.

Adding more salt, she watched the bubbling stew, realizing there was so much she didn’t know, so much she just didn’t understand. Lynol wished she possessed a book on sorcery. She needed a book that described the potent spells the ancient sorcerers had used and descriptions of how they had acquired their awesome mystical powers.

There was nothing in their house that even hinted of sorcery. She had searched fruitlessly through the old family books that lined the shelves in the closed off back rooms. You would think with the Sylvar history there would be some type of references in the house about sorcery. It was perplexing that their home didn’t contain a few books of spells and incantations describing Sylvar sorcery, or even Malcon Sylvar and his half-mystical abilities.

There was so much family history handed down through the ages through stories, but strangely, the Sylvar sorcerers were an enigma, a mystery that was extraordinarily well hidden. Secrets lost in the passing of the ages. Secrets that Lynol so desperately needed to know.

It had been nearly a year now since her new abilities started manifesting themselves, and Lynol was still struggling to control them. At first, it had been exciting to coax small, colorful birds to land on her outstretched arm, or to get small wild animals to come up to her. She could still recall the first time she had coaxed a squirrel to come down out of its tree and take a nut from her hand.

Recently, the mountain had begun to rumble, and the possible consequences of having those abilities began to frighten Lynol. Then tonight, the uncanny and frightening incident with the Sylvar Stone had only added to her fears. She needed to know more about the prophecies and the Sylvar legacy. Just what is happening to me, she wondered? Lynol stirred the stew slowly, thinking about what her father had told her about Malcon Sylvar.

Even to Lynol, many of the stories her father told seemed like fairy tales. She knew the stories her father spoke of were based on truth, stories handed down through the generations, but sometimes they seemed so fantastic! It had been many long years since Malcon Sylvar’s time.

She wondered how many of the stories were entirely true and how many were grossly exaggerated. Were the earliest sorcerers her father spoke of as powerful as the ancient stories portrayed? She just had to have more information! Perhaps then, she would understand more of what had happened tonight at the Sylvar Stone and what it meant. She let out a deep sigh of resignation at her lack of knowledge.

Lynol had even stealthily searched the small library in Galvin, but there were absolutely no books relating to sorcery! The majority of the books in the library were boring historical recordings of the lives of the people who had lived in the small agricultural village. There were numerous books on agriculture, which might be useful to the local farmers. There were also books on different medicines and remedies for diseases that still reared their virulent heads on rare occasions.

Nowhere was there any mention of Malcon Sylvar in any of the village’s long, descriptive histories, nor of Gilmreth. It was as if the village’s most famous historical figure and the dragon had never existed. Lynol knew to most of the people of Galvin, Malcon was just a myth, and the dragon Gilmreth was just a made up fairy tale. It was as if all writings of sorcery or of the Sylvar sorcerers of the past had been meticulously removed. It was extremely frustrating.

It was a two day ride to the nearest village of Handon’s Ferry at the Crystal River to the north. The trip to Draydon, on the far side of the mountains, took nearly four long, arduous days by freight wagon. Lynol knew that Draydon would be her foremost choice. It was the largest town that she knew of, and Draydon was rumored to possess many old books and scrolls in its large library archives.

She would love to spend some time in Draydon’s library, if only she could talk her father into taking her there. Perhaps in Draydon she could find the knowledge she was so desperately seeking. Lynol had never been to Draydon, though her father had on several occasions. If only I could find some books or scrolls on sorcery, Lynol thought wistfully. It would at least give her a clue as to what was happening to her, the changes that were taking place; even perhaps explain what had happened at the Sylvar Stone earlier.

She took several small bowls out of a cupboard and opened a drawer, removing several wooden spoons for the stew. She placed these carefully on the large wooden table as her thoughts continued to dwell on Gilmreth and the Sylvar sorcerers of old.

Lynol knew other isolated villages lay scattered to the east and northeast, but they were distant and extremely difficult to reach. Due to their small size, Lynol doubted they possessed the knowledge she so urgently sought. The nearest village to the east was Ashton, a grueling, three-day ride which was located on the edge of the Ralle Desert. The desert was a blighted, desolate land, which stretched off to the far distant ocean and was rumored to be impassable. Lynol knew of no one in recent memory who had ventured far into the scorching desert and returned.

Lynol had already searched the small library at Handon’s Ferry on the Crystal River. Lynol had been to Handon’s Ferry twice with her father. They had gone to barter some meat and eggs at one of the village’s small markets in exchange for some smoked fish the villagers took from the Crystal River. They had also traded for some metal tools her father wanted for the farm. The library at Handon’s Ferry had been remarkably similar to Galvin’s library.

During her school years when Lynol had discreetly questioned the old women of Galvin about sorcery or Malcon, they had chided Lynol for wasting their precious time with such mythical legends. Everyone knew those old wives tales were made up to frighten unruly children. What parent hadn’t threatened a young child on occasion that if they didn’t do their chores, Gilmreth would come in the night and carry them off to his distant lair?

If there was any truth to the legend, it should be in the village histories that had been meticulously kept. Since there was nothing there, the women were convinced that Malcon Sylvar and Gilmreth were only fairy tales. They told Lynol not to bring the subject up again. Gilmreth and Malcon were children’s tales only, and young adults shouldn’t be concerned with such even if their last name was Sylvar.

Using her apron, Lynol took the hot pot of bubbling stew from the fireplace, carrying it to the heavy wooden table near the large open window, which faced Firestorm Mountain to the west. Looking out the window, she saw her father herding two bellowing black cows with their young calves up into the lot by the barn to be milked later. Fresh milk in the morning would be a treat. In addition, Lynol wanted to make more cheese to trade in the village.

There was always so much to do on the farm, and now this sorcery thing made everything even more complicated. Sometimes Lynol wished she hadn’t been born a Sylvar and her life could just be normal like her friends.

Lynol watched through the window as the sun was rapidly disappearing in the west, sinking behind the jagged horizon dominated by Firestorm Mountain. It had been an unusually dry, early summer so far. Dust uplifted into the air glowed in the last rays of the sun, red and gold-red. The entire landscape of the mountain lay bathed in a soft light, with gradually lengthening fingers of purple shadows stretching out from the darkening mountains.

With the coming darkness, her father would be in for his supper. Going to the table, she ladled out a generous portion of steaming stew into the two wooden bowls to cool, then going over to the pantry Lynol took out some freshly baked bread and cheese wrapped in thick cloth. At least living on the farm allowed them to eat reasonably well. Setting the food down on the table, Lynol sat down, looking out the large window toward Firestorm Mountain becoming lost in thought.

-

Damon came in the open door shrugging out of his light jacket. The temperature dropped rapidly this close to the mountains late in the evening. The light breeze coming off the slopes often put a slight chill into the night air. He could smell the tantalizing aroma of the stew that Lynol had prepared. One thing he could say about his daughter; she was an excellent cook! Putting his walking staff up, he saw Lynol staring out the window at Firestorm Mountain with a pensive look upon her young face.

“Still thinking about Gilmreth, I see,” he stated after a brief pause, walking over to the table where his food waited. He knew from the look on her face where her mind dwelled.

Damon knew his daughter was really concerned about the dragon, but he just wasn’t sure what he could do to put her at ease. It bothered him that Lynol was so distraught over the rumblings from the mountain. He knew much of her fear was caused by the stories he had told her about their family’s past and their ties to Gilmreth, the ancient dragon. Nevertheless, they were stories she needed to hear. It was part of her legacy, and she was his only child.

Startled, Lynol turned toward her father’s voice, embarrassed and irritated, realizing more time than she thought had elapsed. She had been replaying the events from earlier over and over in her mind, particularly what had occurred at the Sylvar Stone, trying to make sense of what had happened. Her mind was full of questions; most, she knew, would remain unanswered.

“I was just wondering why no one believes in Malcon and Gilmreth anymore,” replied Lynol, rising to get a sharp knife from the cabinet to cut the cheese and bread.

“It has been many years since Malcon’s time, Lynol,” Damon replied patiently, taking his seat and watching as Lynol expertly cut the cheese and bread into slices.

He let his eyes rest on Lynol; she was so young and reminded him so much of his wife. He wished she were here to help guide Lynol through this troubled time. He could well remember what it had been like to be a teenager; being a Sylvar made it even harder.

“Even in the village library there is no mention of either. It’s almost as if all the records of that time were carefully removed and erased from our history. How can events so significant and heroic not be written down? I don’t understand,” spoke Lynol, frowning. She sat back down across from her father, trying to mask her anxiety and sound light and casual. She knew she wasn’t succeeding very well.

Lynol took up her spoon in her right hand and took a cautious bite of the stew. She closed her eyes briefly, enjoying the different tastes that rolled across her tongue. She took a small bite of bread followed by some of the flavorful cheese, then shifted her gaze back to her father.

-

Damon looked at his daughter with tender understanding. There was much of the family history that was normally passed down from father to son and had been for untold generations. Damon’s father had passed on the secret family history to him during many long winter evenings in front of the warming flames of the fireplace in this very house. His father would tell a story, and then Damon would repeat it back carefully word for word. It was then that Damon learned fully of the awesome responsibility of the Sylvars, a responsibility that Lynol knew a little about, but not everything, for there was much he hadn’t told her.

There was a lot of knowledge about the Sylvars that Lynol didn’t know, that he had protected her from finding out. One thousand years was a long time. That was how long since sorcery of any consequence had existed. He knew that even Lynol sometimes had a hard time fully believing some of the stories he told her; he could see it in her eyes. He could also spot the small glimmer of doubt and the questions she wanted to ask. The stories seemed so fantastic even Damon sometimes wondered if, over the years, they might have been embellished somewhat as they were handed down from generation to generation.

Damon had always planned to pass his knowledge down to his son, but his wife had died two short years after Lynol was born. Kathryn had fallen victim to a deadly burning fever, which had swept uncontrolled through the village and surrounding countryside. The fever had taken many precious lives before the healers found a cure. His wife’s body, along with so many others, had been burned to stop the spread of the deadly plague. There wasn’t even a grave to mark the passing of his beloved wife. Scarcely a day passed that Damon didn’t think about Kathryn. It had been difficult raising Lynol without her mother.

Lynol reminded him so much of Kathryn. As Lynol had gotten older, the resemblance between the two had become uncanny. He hesitated, paralyzed by indecision. For several months now, the thought had been weighing heavily on his mind about the secret family history. It was already far past the time for the teachings to have begun. He knew that since he had no son, Lynol would have to bear the responsibility that was normally the obligation of the oldest son in the Sylvar family.

He knew why there were no books or references in the village library about those dangerous, ancient times. The Sylvar family had taken meticulous care in the distant past to remove all mention of those events from Galvin and all the other neighboring villages' libraries. That knowledge could have been catastrophically dangerous in the wrong hands.

Possibly, on the far side of the mountain, a few scattered forgotten books and scrolls may have managed to survive the methodical searches of the past. If so, Damon wasn’t aware of any, and no one else in the Sylvar family had ever become aware of such.

Damon toyed with his food, his appetite waning slightly. He took a bite of bread and cheese and washed it down with some cool water as his mind raced. The absence of all the books and scrolls was another reason why it was so difficult for people to accept the story of Malcon and Gilmreth. Damon knew that Lynol had searched intensely for them, but he had also known she wouldn’t find anything.

Damon was aware that Lynol was remarkably different from other girls her own age. He suspected that some of Malcon Sylvar’s ancient gifts might have reappeared in his young highly spirited daughter. He had secretly watched her antics with the animals and the faraway look she would get when she was interacting with them. From what he had been taught, this was one of the early signs of sorcery, the ability to interact with wild animals, particularly with birds and the smaller animals.

This was the first occurrence of sorcery since the legendary age of Malcon himself. The family had been watchful for these signs for generations knowing what it might signal, the danger it might imply. It was believed Malcon himself had done something to restrict sorcery. One of the prophecies said that only with the awakening of Gilmreth would sorcery reappear. The ancient prophecies and teachings were meant to prepare the coming Sylvar sorceress for that dangerous event.

If he was right about his daughter’s fledgling powers, then it could indeed be time for Gilmreth to awaken. It would certainly explain all the rumbling coming from the mountain, and it might be time for the Sylvar family to take up that awful burden, the dreaded responsibility for Gilmreth, which was part of the Sylvar legacy.

He knew no other Sylvar for generations had shown any signs of possessing the old power. Why Lynol; why now? He wondered worriedly, fearing with all his heart the future that might be waiting for his only daughter. How could this innocent child be expected to face Gilmreth?

Malcon Sylvar himself had died putting the great dragon to sleep. Malcon had been the greatest sorcerer the Sylvar family had ever produced in its long, colorful history. For weeks now, Damon’s apprehension had been slowly growing. Since the mountain started rumbling, he had tried to repudiate in his mind what he feared was the inescapable truth. Was his young daughter the powerful sorceress spoken of in the ancient family prophecies?

He found the thought frightening, the danger that Lynol would be in, the danger they all would be in if the dragon was indeed awakening. He shifted his weight uneasily in his chair, weighing his decision as he forced himself to eat several more spoonfuls of the flavorful stew.

Damon had been pondering this moment for weeks and struggling with the decision that he knew must be made. Damon understood from the ancient teachings what must be done. There could be no chances taken where Gilmreth was involved. The risk was too great! The ancient teachings were extremely explicit. It was what all the Sylvars for generations had been watching for, had been waiting for. It was their destiny as put forth by Malcon Sylvar himself and the ancient sorcerers before him.

-

“What are you thinking about, Father?” Lynol asked in her soft, contralto voice, seeing the pained distant look on her father’s weather beaten face. Had she done something wrong; had her questions upset her father?

Lynol had already eaten about half of her stew and was beginning to feel full. They had always been very close, and her father had always been extremely protective. She seldom left the farm without him accompanying her, unless it was to the Gors who were their closest neighbor. Whatever was bothering her father, she wanted to hear it. Perhaps she could put him at ease.

“It’s time to continue your education in another direction,” Damon said slowly, taking a bite of bread, eying her through strained eyes, and wishing that what he suspected wasn’t true.

This was the family legacy, their heritage, what he had sworn to uphold, as had every Sylvar before him since the ancient time of Malcon. He could be wrong, and he hoped that he was, but he dare not take the chance. Lynol’s young life, as well as numerous others, might depend upon it. He felt the weight of countless generations settle heavily upon his shoulders.

Lynol shook her head, feeling confused. “I don’t understand. We can’t afford for me to go to one of the larger towns to continue my education, the distance is just too great. There’s too much for me to do around here helping you with the farm.”

Their farm was the most productive farm in the Galvin community. It took her father and her many long, arduous hours each day to complete all the chores the farm required. Many days they worked nearly nonstop from dawn until dusk to complete all the work. The Sylvar land extended unobstructed to the very base of Firestorm Mountain itself, although presently only that land in the immediate vicinity of their home was fertile enough to grow crops and furnish feed for their animals.

“That wasn’t what I meant,” Damon replied with a heavy sigh.

Damon laid down his spoon and pushed the half-eaten bowl of stew away, his appetite momentarily forgotten. Taking a moment, he stared out the window at the old mountain, which was now nearly hidden in shadows as the darkness began to cover its slopes and what he  knew lay waiting ominously beneath. Silently, he swore to himself that Gilmreth would never have his daughter; damn their heritage anyway! He was familiar with what the prophecies foretold about the awakening of Gilmreth and what lay in store for Lynol, if she was indeed the sorceress of which the prophecies spoke.

Damon motioned for Lynol to stay seated. “There are many things you don’t understand about Malcon and Gilmreth that I’ve never spoken of,” Damon began, slowly. He leaned back and folded his arms across his chest.

“I don’t understand,” Lynol said. She wondered with growing curiosity what her father was trying to say. She thought he had told her nearly everything he knew about Malcon and Gilmreth. Why was her father telling her this now?

“When Malcon Sylvar put Gilmreth to sleep, much of the countryside for hundreds of miles around had been laid to waste from years of ceaseless depredations from the dragon. Many villages and towns had been destroyed, and their people driven out to hide in the countryside, living in constant fear of the dragon. The soil, poisoned from his fiery foul breath, would no longer raise crops,” Damon spoke softly, his brows wrinkling in memory, going over the part of the legend that Lynol already knew.

Lynol was quiet, listening to her father, and her breathing had quickened as she waited for him to continue. She wondered what he was trying to tell her.

“Even much of our own land near the mountain was poisoned, no longer suitable to farm,” Damon continued, taking a deep breath. “Plants that grew there were misshapen, and the animals that ventured there for any length of time sickened and died.” Pausing, he considered carefully what he was about to say. Mentally fortifying himself, he looked at Lynol. She was so young, so innocent; he hated laying this heavy burden upon her shoulders.

“Some of this you have told me before,” responded Lynol, listening carefully to her father’s words. “Gilmreth and his fiery breath was a scourge to everything it touched.”

“Yes, but I haven’t told you everything; there is much more,” Damon said, his dark brown eyes looking into his daughter’s light blue ones.

Lynol held her breath and her pulse quickened. Her father had captured her imagination and intrigued her. What was he about to say? She had suspected her father knew more about Gilmreth and the Sylvar sorcerers than he had let on. He had taught her only a few of the old stories and legends. When she had inquired if there were more, he had smiled in that fatherly fashion and told her that she would have to wait until she was older. She looked at him inquisitively. Was he also worried about the rumblings from the mountain?

“What no one knew, but Malcon strongly suspected and had kept secret for years, was that Gilmreth drew the bulk of his power from the young girls he fed upon,” said Damon hesitatingly, knowing that once he began he wouldn’t be able to stop. Lynol’s insatiable curiosity wouldn’t allow it.

“Young girls? I don’t understand,” Lynol interrupted, feeling confused.

“Let me explain it better,” replied Damon, feeling acutely uneasy about what he was about to reveal to Lynol. “Perhaps it was their very souls that he tore from their defenseless bodies. Others said it was only the blood of his victims that he craved. While the dragon would feed upon any human that he found, he continuously took young, innocent girls to feed upon whenever possible. The villagers and townspeople of that time finally realized this, much to Malcon’s dismay. They began to take several young virgin girls regularly to the sacrificial rock at the base of the mountain and leave them there for Gilmreth.”

“They did what?” Lynol asked, shocked at this revelation, her eyes growing wide in disbelief. She couldn’t believe what her father had just said. Surely she had misunderstood!

“It’s true. They sacrificed young, innocent girls to the dragon,” Damon said, carefully choosing his words. “The life force or power the dragon drained from these young girls was so strong that the dragon would fall into an intoxicated stupor in his lair for weeks.”

“That’s horrible!” Lynol said, the words barely escaping her mouth. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“The villagers believed they were feeding the dragon his preferred food of choice, that it was the young girl’s youthful flesh and blood the dragon so craved,” Damon spoke, shaking his head sadly. “The dragon would stay in his lair for weeks, sometimes for months, until the affects of his feeding began to diminish, rekindling his hunger and driving him out to seek more innocent victims.”

Lynol was staring at her father, her mouth open in astonishment and consternation. She was nearly speechless.

“Why haven’t I heard of this before?” Lynol asked horrified at the unspeakable terror of human sacrifice her father was describing. She began to understand the distress in her father’s eyes.

Lynol had heard rumors of a sacrificial rock at the base of Firestorm Mountain, but she had never actually believed them. Human sacrifice of young girls; just the thought angered Lynol as she realized what Gilmreth had driven the ancient villagers to do. She wondered what else had been hidden from her; what else her father had failed to tell her.

“Then the stories of the sacrificial rock are true, girls were taken there to be sacrificed to the dragon?” Lynol spoke, her face a mask of anger at what had been done to appease Gilmreth. “How could the villagers do such a thing, sacrifice their own daughters?”

She couldn’t imagine what it would have been like to live back in those times. What the chosen families must have gone through when their daughters were taken for the sacrifice. She shuddered at just the thought. The room seemed much colder than it had just a few minutes earlier.

Damon’s brow furrowed, and he gazed at the top of the table, slowly shaking his head. This was a story he had hoped he would never have to tell Lynol. However, with the rumbling coming from the mountain, he knew that he had no choice. He raised his eyes and looked into Lynol’s light blue eyes, seeing the anger and shock there.

“We Sylvars tried to play down the story over the years just in case the sacrificial rock was ever discovered,” spoke Damon, pausing to take a long drink of water, and then continued. “The horror of what happened at the altar was so deeply entrenched that to hide its secret entirely would have been next to impossible, particularly during the early years. As to why, it was a desperate and dangerous time, Lynol. People will do the unspeakable if their minds are clouded by fear and it means their continued survival.”

“This was all Gilmreth’s fault!” Lynol blurted out, shaking her head in disbelief, her stomach queasy as she thought about the sacrifices. She took a deep breath and a sip of water and looked back at her father.

“Yes,” Damon replied in a pained voice. “They felt in order to survive, they had no choice. It was a very desperate and horrible time to live in. The dragon was killing people by the hundreds; some of the legends say by the thousands. Distressed people will often resort to actions that most sane people would find utterly unacceptable in normal times, just to survive. By resorting to the sacrifices, they managed to control the depredations of the dragon. The villages and towns were no longer attacked. The people began to live normal lives again, except for the occasional sacrifices that were being made to the dragon. They found a way to survive.”

“Kalvin claimed there were human sacrifices to Gilmreth long ago,” murmured Lynol, remembering their conversation from several months back and feeling revulsion at what had been done. “I didn’t believe him. I thought he was just making it all up to scare Dresdia and me.” Lynol remembered scoffing at Kalvin, telling him that people wouldn’t do such a horrible thing. She realized now just how naïve she had been.

“Some of the Sylvar history is only passed down from father to son; it has been so through countless generations,” explained Damon, looking into Lynol’s questioning eyes. “The family dared not write anything down lest the records ever be discovered. Since I have no son, the knowledge I have will be passed on to you and from you to your son someday.”

Lynol was staring at him, her eyes wide in surprise, and her mind racing, realizing that her father might have the answers to many of her unanswered questions. Wanting him to continue, she looked at him expectantly. She leaned forward, her arms resting on the table, an air of expectation filling the room, her half-eaten bowl of stew forgotten. At last she was about to find out more, perhaps even a precious clue about her fledgling abilities; maybe her father knew where some books on sorcery or the Sylvar sorcerers might be.

However, a nagging fear still echoed in the back of her mind. Why was her father telling her all of this now? Did it have anything to do with the rumbling coming from Firestorm Mountain? Just the thought of that possibility put her nerves on edge. The rumblings from the mountain, her fledgling abilities, which she still had a hard time controlling, the enigmatic occurrence at the Sylvar Stone earlier, and now her father telling her more about the ancient family history; all this was too much of a coincidence. Lynol could feel her stomach fluttering in nervous anticipation and fear; something about all of this just didn’t seem right.

Taking a deep breath and staring at the distant darkness shrouded mountain through the large window, Damon continued in a shaky, tired voice. He felt much older than he had moments before. “Malcon Sylvar had long practiced the ancient arts. Up until Malcon’s time, there had always been a powerful sorcerer or sorceress in the Sylvar family in each generation. The family history can be traced back to the sorcerers of the half-mystical Golden Age itself.”

“The Golden Age,” murmured Lynol, wishing she knew more about those fabulous, legendary times.

“Malcon had learned many things long since forgotten,” her father continued. “For years he had been searching for a way to destroy Gilmreth and stop the sacrifices by piecing together scattered scraps of knowledge from ancient ruins and the occasional book or scroll he found in his vengeful quest. He had a personal hatred of the dragon because Gilmreth had killed Malcon’s only daughter, Lys Sylvar, in one of its unrestrained rages of destruction.”

“His daughter!” Lynol gasped, her face turning pale, surprised and shocked at the revelation. She looked at her father, astonished. “Malcon Sylvar had a daughter? I have never heard this before. How did it happen, how did she die, was she sacrificed?” she asked, the questions rapidly rolling out. She felt a stir of agitation and anticipation prickling the back of her neck as she waited for him to answer. She was beginning to realize just how much she didn’t know.

“No virgins were at the sacrificial altar to appease Gilmreth’s hunger when he came forth from his lair,” spoke Damon, recalling the story as his father had told it to him. “The girls who had been chosen for the sacrifice escaped. They ran away to save their own lives. It was rumored that one of the girls’ fathers had followed the village elders, who were in charge of the sacrifices, and freed the girls once the elders left. When the elders found out what had happened, it was too late. Gilmreth awoke before others could be chosen to replace the missing girls. He flew to the sacrificial rock, looking for his victims. Finding no one, he exploded into a fit of destructive rage, terrorizing the countryside seeking suitable victims to satisfy his burning hunger.”

“What happened?” Lynol asked, almost afraid of what the answer would be. “Did Malcon try to stop the dragon?”

Damon looked out the window past the garden where the waiting Sylvar Stone stood guard among the ancient stone ruins, beckoning in the spreading twilight, almost invisible in the deepening darkness. In his mind, he pictured the dragon sweeping over the countryside, its poisonous fiery breath burning farmsteads, killing livestock, and setting the landscape afire. The carnage and destruction Gilmreth spread in his wake was well documented in the secret family histories. Gilmreth was mankind’s worst nightmare come to life.

“How was his daughter killed?” Lynol pressed her curiosity and interest piqued by her father’s revelations.

“The stones behind the garden are all that remain from Malcon’s home when the dragon struck late one night,” Damon spoke, his eyes taking on a distant, haunted look. “Malcon was gone, traveling to a distant land in search of forgotten knowledge. He believed the family home was secure from the dragon, being made of heavy stone and protected by his sorcery. A specially woven spell set a protective ward around his home, making it invisible to Gilmreth.”

“Then it was Malcon’s home that the stones came from!” Lynol exclaimed excitedly, regarding her father with astonishment at this revelation. At last, she had learned the mysterious secret of the stone ruins. The sheer number of stones suggested that Malcon’s home must have been resplendent; a literal castle. “Those stones are the remains of his home?”

Nodding, Damon continued. “Yes, it was a small stone castle built of heavy stone with a single tower rising protectively from the east wall. Lys was home with several other family members when the dragon attacked Galvin.”

“Galvin? The dragon attacked Galvin?” Lynol spoke, surprised and stunned at the revelation. She was beginning to think she didn’t know anything. Every word her father spoke made her feel even more insecure about her future.

“Yes,” replied Damon, picturing the rampant horror of the villagers as the dragon swept in, with massive wings beating the air above the village, burning homes with his deadly breath, and forcing people to flee in terror for their very lives.

That night must have been fearsome, Gilmreth's talons tearing the very walls apart in his search for helpless victims to feed his raging hunger. The dragon would have been unstoppable and utterly deadly to the inhabitants.

“Lys attempted to use what she knew of her father’s powers to distract Gilmreth away from the village,” Damon continued. “She had many friends living there, and the thought of their imminent deaths was more than she could bear. Malcon’s brother Glaycon tried to stop her, warning her repeatedly how powerful Gilmreth was.”

“Was Glaycon a powerful sorcerer also?” Lynol asked.

“He had only rudimentary sorcery powers and couldn’t prevail against her,” responded Damon, recalling the story as his father had told it to him. “Lys instructed Glaycon and everyone else to leave the castle since Gilmreth would soon arrive. She warned everyone of what she intended to do. Glaycon pleaded and tried to reason with Lys, but to no avail. She had always believed she and her father should have taken a more active role against the dragon. She knew that her use of sorcery would shatter the protective spell surrounding their home and wanted everyone safely away when that happened. Glaycon took Malcon’s young son, Tirol, and fled with several other family members and servants.”

“So they left Lys alone to face the dragon?” whispered Lynol, gazing at her father with eyes wide. “Why didn’t Tirol stay? Surely his powers could have helped her.” She tried to picture Lys alone in the castle preparing to use her sorcery against Gilmreth. What had been running through her mind in those last few moments before she accosted the dragon?

“Tirol had none of his father’s abilities, his uncle only wanted to get him to safety. He realized the futility of what Lys was proposing, but couldn’t sway her,” her father replied. “They had no choice but to leave. To stay was certain death!”

“She was doing it to save her friends,” Lynol spoke in understanding.

Damon paused, looking at Lynol. “Tirol begged his sister not to do this dangerous thing, but she was adamant in her resolve. Lys believed she could save the villagers. Her powers had grown to the point that they might eventually surpass even Malcon’s abilities.”

“She was brave enough to face Gilmreth alone,” Lynol said slowly. She tried to imagine the fortitude and resolve it would have taken to do such a thing.

“Lys had begged her father for several years to allow them to use their sorcery against Gilmreth,” her father continued. “However, Malcon refused, saying the dragon was too powerful, that they had to wait until he knew they could defeat Gilmreth.”

She had always thought that Malcon was the most powerful sorcerer ever. Lys had never been mentioned.

Lynol closed her eyes as she listened to her father and a strange feeling came over her. When she opened them, she was in a different time and world.

-

Lys stood upon the upper stone battlements of the small tower of the Sylvar family home looking toward the east. A windless stillness surrounded the tower and filled the land around the Sylvar home. The last sunlight had long since vanished, and darkness ruled the countryside. In the distance, she could see fire, and if she tried hard enough, she thought she could hear the screams and panicked voices of the people of Galvin.

She hesitated; she knew she was about to break a promise she had made to her father never to use her powers against the dragon, but what choice did she have? If she did nothing and let her friends die, she would never be able to forgive herself. Taking a deep breath, she reached for the powerful amulet that rested on its golden chain protectively beneath her blouse.

As soon as she clasped the amulet, she became bathed in a bright white light as brilliant as the afternoon sun. Concentrating, she began tracing a pattern in the air and speaking the powerful words she needed. She knew exactly which spell she wanted to enact. It was the only one that might have a chance against Gilmreth.

A cold chill wind began to blow. Clouds swirled above Firestorm Mountain and then took on a darker, more menacing look. Lightning flashed, and thunder roared as the newly created storm marched down the slopes of the mountain, still building in intensity.

Closing her eyes, Lys willed herself to become the storm. Reaching out her mind, she found Gilmreth circling above Galvin. Deadly dragon fire was erupting from the dragon’s mouth, burning the structures and fields below the dragon. Lys reached out and touched the dragon with her finger. In answer, a massive blue-white lightning bolt split the night sky, slamming into the dragon’s back. Thunder roared and echoed across the countryside.

Gilmreth screamed in rage and beat his wings faster, turning to look where the attack had come from. Giant hailstones and tornadic strength winds began to pummel the dragon, nearly driving him into the earth below. In the distance, Gilmreth could sense a power, one such as he had not sensed in many long centuries, like a brilliant beacon in his mind. In anger, the dragon beat his wings even harder, driving himself against the wind and the hail toward that source of power.

Lys struck the dragon again and again with her lightning bolts as she now had full control of the massive storm. Her breath was the wind, her fingers the lightning, and her voice the thunder. The thunder roared, and heavy rain began to come down in sheets rapidly putting the fires out in and around Galvin. Opening her eyes, she gazed up through the pummeling rain at the dragon. Gilmreth was steadily coming closer.

As the dragon approached, Lys continued to hurl enormous blue-white lightning bolts at Gilmreth, staggering the dragon and lighting up the countryside for miles around with dazzling light. Thunder rolled across the land. For the first time, Lys had a clear view of the dragon. She shuddered at the sight. Gilmreth was as fearsome as her father had told her. The dragon’s eyes seemed to glow red, and his massive body was dark and deadly. She tapped the energy in the storm and sent another massive lightning bolt at the dragon, hoping to drive him back to his lair inside Firestorm Mountain.

For the first time in his long life, Gilmreth felt real pain. The dragon’s anger and rage grew each time a lightning bolt struck him. He continued toward his tormentor and the enticing power he sensed.

Again and again, Lys flung bolts of tremendous lightning at the approaching dragon, trying to slay or drive off the fearsome creature. The powerful winds and massive hailstones continuously assailed the dragon with every beat of his wings. Her amulet grew ever brighter, and the radiance surrounding her became dazzling. The entire Sylvar home was now covered in a brilliant white light.

Gilmreth looked down at the human below him who dared to challenge his power. An angry jet of red dragon fire struck his attacker, only to be deflected harmlessly away. A huge bolt of lightning struck Gilmreth in the chest, singing and burning the dragon. The dragon screamed in pain and sent forth another stream of fire, only to see it once more deflected away.

I’ve hurt the dragon, Lys thought, hearing Gilmreth’s scream of pain. If only father was here, we could slay Gilmreth together! She realized the dragon was too powerful for her to kill. She had thrown the most powerful lightning bolts she could muster from the storm at the dragon, but Gilmreth was still coming toward her. I have to drive him away, force him back to his lair! It’s the only way to save Galvin!

With renewed effort, she tapped her amulet and drew upon its power. Her father had always warned her against doing this. He said it was too dangerous. A massive blue-white bolt of energy shot forth from the amulet, striking Gilmreth and driving him forcefully into the ground. The dragon struck the earth with a resounding crash and roar of anger and pain. Lightning bolts poured down from the heavens, striking Gilmreth repeatedly. Thunder roared and echoed across the land as giant hailstones pummeled the dragon.

Lys felt suddenly weak from the rapid expenditure of energy from her amulet. She saw Gilmreth launch himself up into the night air and back toward her. She hit him with more lightning, but the bolts were weaker; she had used too much of the power from her amulet! She began to feel even weaker, and slightly faint.

The storm she had summoned began to weaken and fade away. The wind died down; the rain slowed, and the hail stopped falling. With growing panic, Lys knew that she had failed. Father was right, she thought, Gilmreth is too powerful! What have I done? It was all she could do to stand upon her feet. She should never have tapped the precious energy stored in her amulet.

Gilmreth took advantage of the sudden weakness of the human below him and darted downward, his powerful talons ready. With a sudden grasp, he seized his adversary.

Lys felt the dragon grab her and screamed from the sudden pain. She tried desperately to use her sorcery to free herself from the dragon’s painful grasp. He only squeezed tighter and her consciousness faded. She passed out as weakness and pain overwhelmed her. Her last thoughts were of her father.

Gilmreth flew up into the air with his victim dangling from his talons. He circled and let loose a torrent of dragon fire on the structure below. The dragon turned back toward Firestorm Mountain and his lair deep within. This human who had hurt him would serve as a replacement for the missing sacrifices at the altar.

Behind him, Malcon’s home burned, collapsing as the burning wood structure and furnishings within weakened the massive stones.

-

Lynol took a sudden, deep breath and opened her eyes, seeing her father sitting across from her. She wondered what had just happened; for a moment, it seemed that she had become Lys. Was this another ramification of the fledgling powers she had been experiencing?

Lynol sat awestruck, still held spellbound by the story and her experience. Lys had actually hurt Gilmreth; perhaps joined with Malcon’s power the two of them could have eventually succeeded in destroying the fearsome dragon. She took another deep breath, feeling her heart slow down and shifting her gaze back to her father.

Then reality set in. Lynol realized that Lys had failed and paid for that failure with her life! In the end, she had become another victim of the dragon. Not only that, her uncle and brother had watched the entire terrifying encounter, witnessed its horrifying and tragic ending. She realized that Lys had to have been a tremendously powerful sorceress to do what she had done, to hurt Gilmreth, to injure the dragon with her powerful lightning bolts. It made her realize just how powerful the ancient sorcerers must have been. The awesome power they had controlled was astounding!

“Lynol, are you all right?” asked Damon, seeing the strange look upon his daughter’s face.

“What of Malcon, what happened when he returned?” Lynol asked quietly, trying to gather her thoughts. She still felt connected to Lys after her recent experience. She was trying to imagine what it must have been like with Malcon returning home, finding everything destroyed, and his daughter carried off by Gilmreth. “The anguish he must have felt at his daughter’s death must have been devastating.”

“When he returned he found his home destroyed, the village laid to waste,” her father continued in a slightly subdued voice. “He learned from the surviving villagers that the dragon had carried Lys off. His own family members had fled, afraid the dragon might return. The remaining villagers feared telling Malcon what had happened, but they knew they owed their lives to Lys, and from them, Malcon learned the horrible, painful truth.”

“She saved them,” Lynol said, nodding her head and feeling sadness at the tragedy. “She saved her friends just as she intended.”

“Malcon went into a fit of rage,” Damon continued. “He called upon his sorcery to strike the mountain. He caused great white lightning bolts to rain down from the skies to smite the ancient cliffs, awakening Gilmreth in his deep hidden lair. The mountain itself trembled and rumbled as Malcon called upon all of his power as his rage and fury mounted.”

Drawing a deep breath, Damon stood up and lit several oil lamps as darkness finally settled in. The flickering lamps cast a pale yellow light throughout the room. Walking to the window, he stared out at Firestorm Mountain, shrouded in darkness, imagining it awash in the titanic onslaught of Malcon’s fury.

“What happened next, did Gilmreth come out of his lair?” Lynol asked. She watched as her father sat back down.

“Yes, Gilmreth was flushed from his lair, angry at being disturbed from his sleep. They say that in the ruins of his home Malcon stood face to face with Gilmreth, calling on the lightning, the wind, and the storm to slay the great dragon. Huge lightning bolts such as the world had never seen lit up the night sky, blasting Gilmreth; staggering the dragon. However, even with all of his power, Malcon couldn’t slay his mortal enemy. Gilmreth finally left to hunt for more helpless victims, leaving Malcon standing in broken despair alone in the ruins. Malcon felt defeated, unable to extract his vengeance upon the dragon.”

“What did he do then; why didn’t he rebuild his home? Surely the other family members would have returned once they knew Malcon was back?” Lynol asked. Her attention was raptly held by the story her father was telling. She could feel her pulse racing, her heart beating faster. She was thoroughly captivated by her father’s revelations.

“He didn’t take the time then to track down the other members of his family,” replied Damon, leaning back in his chair and taking another deep breath. “In despair, he traveled to a distant land, leaving behind everything and everyone he knew. Far across the Ralle Desert, he had heard of ancient ruins that dated back to the Worldfire itself!”

“But the Ralle Desert is supposed to be impassable; no one has ever crossed it and returned!” Lynol objected, amazed that Malcon would attempt the desert crossing.

“Perhaps the desert wasn’t so impassable then,” replied Damon, pausing to take a sip of water. “Malcon supposedly spent several years searching old ruins and ancient books for a way to destroy Gilmreth. Finally, in an ancient ruin that dated from just after the Worldfire, he discovered an old book of sorcery. In that book was a dangerous spell; the sleeping spell.”

“The sleeping spell,” Lynol repeated, her eyes glowing. “That’s the spell he used to put Gilmreth to sleep.”

“Malcon had been seeking this spell for many years,” replied Damon, nodding his head. “The book had belonged to a powerful sorcerer called Ramael, who had lived during the Golden Age itself. Ramael had supposedly been driven out of a great enclave of sorcerers and banished to a life of solidarity. Ramael claimed in the book that he had helped create the dragons, that he was one of the first sorcerers.”

“Helped create the dragons! Was he telling the truth?” Lynol asked, amazed at the thought. Could this Ramael actually have been one of the powerful sorcerers that created Gilmreth? The power those ancient sorcerers had wielded; it almost seemed like they had dared to play God. Lynol shook her head in amazement.

“Malcon believed so. Some of the spells in the book were truly powerful; so powerful that Malcon was afraid to invoke them,” replied Damon, gazing at his young daughter. “Realizing at long last that he had found what he was seeking he returned home, calling together the surviving members of his family telling them what was going to happen. Glaycon and Tirol had long since returned and were living in the village.”

“So his family came back,” commented Lynol, wondering what they had said to Malcon about Lys’ death.

“Yes, but they had even more disturbing news for Malcon,” Damon continued with a sad look upon his face. “In order to protect themselves from Gilmreth, the villagers had started up the sacrifices again.”

“More sacrifices!” Lynol interrupted with wide eyes. “What were the villagers thinking?”

“They just wanted to survive,” Damon replied, even he didn’t see how they could have sacrificed their daughters so willingly. “Before he left, Malcon gave detailed instructions to Glaycon and Tirol of what was to be done if he didn’t return from his confrontation with Gilmreth. Malcon journeyed to Firestorm Mountain late one moonless night, knowing Gilmreth was resting in his lair. Malcon accosted the dragon deep beneath the mountain and invoked the sleeping spell, putting Gilmreth to sleep, extinguishing his own power, and sacrificing his own life to weave the powerful all consuming spell.” Damon took another long drink of water before continuing. He knew Lynol would never be the same after tonight.

“Malcon’s surviving family came together and over the years immediately after his death, methodically gathered and hid in a secure place all information about the dragon and what had happened,” continued Damon, looking at his daughter who was staring back in rapt fascination, listening to every word he was saying.

“So they hid everything? All the books, the scrolls? Everything?” stated Lynol, trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice. That explained why she hadn’t been able to find anything on sorcery or Gilmreth. It didn’t matter how hard she looked, there was nothing to find.

“He left very explicit instructions as to what was to be done,” replied Damon, nodding his head slightly. “He had known that he probably wouldn’t survive the incantation of the spell he was going to use against Gilmreth. Malcon was very familiar with the ancient prophecies, as was Glaycon. He had always known that there was a way to put Gilmreth into a deep sleep. It was what he had been searching for all those long years.”

“So Glaycon and Tirol followed Malcon’s instructions,” Lynol murmured quietly. From her own searches, she knew they had been quite thorough.

“Knowing the prophecies as they did, they believed that someday someone might find a way to awaken Gilmreth prematurely if the truth was general knowledge,” continued Damon. “Malcon’s surviving family encouraged the truth to become a myth passed down as a fairy tale from generation to generation to protect the prophecies. Supposedly, Malcon and Glaycon had known for years that one of the ancient prophecies had predicted both the death of Lys and Malcon. Malcon had hoped that his protective spell around his home would protect Lys until he could find a way to deal with Gilmreth.”

“Malcon knew that Lys was destined to die and did nothing to prevent it; didn’t even tell her? Lynol asked, amazed, slowly shaking her head. “How could he not have protected his only daughter?”

“Up until Malcon’s time, the prophecies were not believed in because they hadn’t happened yet, but he dared not take the chance. That was one of the reasons Malcon had taken such great pains to protect his home and to teach Lys sorcery. He hoped that Lys’ sorcery and the protective spell he had placed around his home would protect her.”

Damon paused, watching the flame burn in one of the oil lamps. It seemed to possess a life of its own as it wavered and grew, and then flared back down again causing the shadows in the room to move and take on a life of their own.

“It’s just so hard to imagine Malcon leaving Lys alone, knowing what the prophecy predicted,” Lynol spoke with sadness in her eyes.

“He knew there was a possibility the prophecies could be true,” Damon replied. “They originated from a great sorcerer in the Sylvar family from back before Gilmreth returned to the mountain. Malcon had hoped to discover a method to either destroy Gilmreth or imprison the dragon, thus derailing the prophecies. But as you now know, that didn’t occur.”

“Then after Malcon died enacting the sleeping spell, his family followed his instructions and gathered up all the books and scrolls. Where did they hide them? Where is this safe place they hid everything?” Lynol asked.

Lynol gazed at her father with anticipation, holding her breath, hoping her father might know. If she could find this ancient repository, it could help answer many of her questions about her own fledgling powers. Lynol felt very worried knowing that Lys and Malcon had both fallen victim to the ancient prophecy, which had predicted their deaths.

“I don’t know,” her father replied, shaking his head slowly. “It was a special place that Malcon himself had prepared to store much of the knowledge and artifacts that he brought back from his many journeys. Only Glaycon had access to it, and upon his death it became permanently sealed, its location lost.”

Lynol hid her disappointment with another question. “Why did their power fade? What happened to sorcery?” Lynol asked. She hoped her father could shed some light on why the power had seemingly left the family. She knew that after Malcon’s time sorcery utterly vanished.

“Only a few of Malcon’s immediate relatives possessed a trace of sorcery; his brother and several cousins,” replied Damon, looking into his daughter’s eyes. “The power had been focused in Malcon and Lys; the others had only a token amount, and it began to fade rapidly after Malcon’s death. Perhaps in some way, he and Lys were the source, or the focus, for the family’s powers. From what I was told, the family used their remaining sorcery to gather all the books and knowledge they could, storing it in Malcon’s secret hideaway, which only Glaycon could enter.”

“Could the storage place be here on the farm?” Lynol asked breathlessly, remembering her experience at the Sylvar Stone earlier in the evening. Was her vision a clue to this ancient treasure trove of knowledge that Malcon Sylvar and his descendants had hidden?

“I doubt it,” her father replied, rubbing his forehead and frowning. “If it was, it would have been found by now. No, I think it’s somewhere beneath the mountain itself. Everything was safely put away in some hidden lair, far away from prying eyes where Malcon could research and practice his sorcery in solitude. I don’t believe it will ever be found.”

Lynol felt disappointed. If all the books and scrolls about sorcery had been hidden away, what was she to do?

-

For several hours more, Lynol and her father talked, with Lynol asking questions and her father answering them. Damon told Lynol they would spend some time each night going over the old family knowledge, which Lynol would have to memorize word for word, as he had when he was her age.

After going to her room, Lynol was too keyed up by what she had learned to go to sleep. “I must do something!” she said to the four walls of her room as she paced back and forth reviewing what her father had said earlier. “I will become a sorceress!” The statement took her by surprise and made her steps falter. Pausing, she gazed uncomfortably out her bedroom window toward the distant darkness of Firestorm Mountain. The mountain was now covered in total blackness, which not even the myriads of brightly glowing stars could penetrate with their distant light.

She was surprised at what she had just said and wondered what had caused her to say such words. She blinked her eyes and sat down on her bed to think. She felt an icy shiver crawl up her back as she thought of what her destiny might be if the ancient prophecies came to pass. The knowledge made her feel small, helpless, and worried for the future.

Lynol had learned so much tonight, but it would take an extraordinarily powerful sorceress to defeat Gilmreth; a sorceress even stronger than Lys! Lynol knew that if she ever faced Gilmreth it would mean her premature death. Of that, there was no doubt. Lynol’s abilities were miniscule compared to the awesome power Lys had wielded against the dragon.

Perhaps I’m not the sorceress mentioned in the prophecies, she thought. After all, in order to face Gilmreth it would take a very powerful sorceress. From what her father had told her tonight, she was now more confused than ever.

There had to be another Sylvar sorceress who would face Gilmreth. One that would be extraordinarily powerful; someone she hadn’t yet met, or perhaps not yet even born. The prophecies were always extremely hard to understand; they may very well pertain to her future children. The thought frightened her, made her realize even more the fearsome responsibility of the Sylvars.

She knew she would have to pass on to her own children what her father had told her tonight. Someday, perhaps in the not so distant future, there would be another powerful Sylvar sorceress, but she knew it wasn’t going to be her.

-

Later, Lynol lay in her bed feeling the light, cool breeze blowing across her through the partially open bedroom window. Starlight winked at her through the glass.

She focused her thoughts, contemplating the mountain for a moment. When she felt she was ready, she reached out with her mind. She cast a tentative mental finger toward Firestorm Mountain, cautiously probing under the mountain. She could feel a cold, sinister presence deep beneath. “Gilmreth,” she breathed suddenly, her pulse quickening, her light blue eyes cast wide open. This was the first time she had tried to reach out toward the dragon, to touch Gilmreth with her mind, as she did on occasion to the other animals she coaxed into coming up to her.

She cautiously touched the edges of the sleeping dragon’s consciousness. She fought down panic and a hollow feeling of fear at the coldness, the darkness, which that light touch revealed. There was no doubt the dragon was actually there. Withdrawing her mind from the sleeping dragon, she lay back on her pillow and closed her eyes, pondering what she had just done. She hadn’t known or believed that she could actually sense the dragon underneath the mountain. After doing this and thinking about the occurrence at the Sylvar Stone earlier tonight, Lynol wondered just what it all might mean.

As she fell into a troubled sleep, her last waking thoughts were of Lys Sylvar, the daughter of Malcon Sylvar, imagining the courage it had taken to face Gilmreth alone. She wished she knew more about Lys, what she had been like, what her dreams had been; dreams that Gilmreth had brought to a sudden and cruel end.

Chapter Three

Early the next morning Lynol awoke sleepily to the old rooster crowing defiantly at the rising sun outside her partially open bedroom window. The chill early morning breeze, blowing lightly through the window, caused her unconsciously to snuggle deeper beneath the warm, protective blankets. Reaching out tentatively with her mind, she soothed the aging rooster, encouraging it to return to the still sleeping hens in the chicken coup down below the garden.

Stretching, she opened her eyes and looked out the window to see the bright morning sunlight striking Firestorm Mountain. Its tall crags and peaks were covered with snow and glistening with reflected light masking the sinister, dark secret the mountain protected. Only during the hottest months of the summer did the heavy snow melt away entirely, revealing the dark mass of unyielding stone underneath, Gilmreth’s lair for over one thousand long years!

Thinking about Gilmreth made Lynol feel uncomfortable. The startling revelations from the previous night swam slowly back into her mind; the horrific stories about Gilmreth and what had happened to Lys Sylvar. Dimly she could remember dreaming about Gilmreth, but what the dream had been about was rapidly fading from her mind as most dreams did. Perhaps she just didn’t want to remember.

Closing her eyes, she tried to relax pushing those memories to the back of her mind. It was too early in the morning to worry about the night before. She lay there for a moment enjoying the warm, protective feeling of her bed. Pushing back the blankets, she reluctantly got up. She closed the window, blocking out the morning breeze and was soon dressed, pulling on a heavy flannel shirt to combat the morning chill.

Sitting in front of her mirror, Lynol brushed an errant strand of brown hair back into place and surveyed her image critically; her shoulder length hair lay slightly curled upon her shoulders. She was satisfied that her hair was at least reasonably presentable. She smiled at her reflection and examined the smile with careful detachment. Her light blue eyes gazed appreciatively back at her from the mirror. Her face was young and vibrant as any 16-year-old girl's should be. A slight tinge of red, on her cheeks, showed that she hadn’t quite thrown off the early morning chill.

Walking into the kitchen, she stirred the ashes in the cold fireplace, uncovering some still glowing cherry red coals buried deep within. Adding some wood kindling and a few larger logs, Lynol watched the fire breathe almost magically back to life. The first few hesitant jets of yellow flame appeared through the kindling, licking at the waiting logs above. In a few more moments, a roaring flame erupted, throwing out a pleasant, comforting heat and driving away the early morning chill. Lynol stood before the fireplace enjoying the spreading heat from the fire, holding her hands out toward the warming flames. Finally, feeling warm, she walked to the kitchen door that led outside.

Stepping out onto the porch, she shivered in the crisp morning breeze, relishing the freshness of the early morning air. She hugged her arms against her chest and trembled, not just from the morning chill, as she gazed pensively at Firestorm Mountain.

The morning fog was slowly beginning to dissipate. In the distant grassy meadow where their few cattle were grazing, the secretive gray fog hid the animals in its wet, protective mist. Their occasionally ambiguous shapes shrouded in the grayness, causing the animals forms to be vague and mysterious. With her imagination, it was possible to visualize all types of enchanting creatures in the drifting shapes generated by the morning fog.

Her father had risen earlier, before sunup, and went off to Galvin. Her father had explained to her the night before that he was going to trade some milk and vegetables for some necessary supplies. In Galvin, most business was done by trade or bartering. A smoked ham might purchase a bolt of cloth, fresh eggs, or freshly baked bread. Gold coins were the accepted currency, but they were scarce, and most people hoarded the rare coins for winter emergencies. Lynol knew that even in Galvin hunger was almost always present in the small agricultural village.

It was just so difficult to raise enough food to feed everyone adequately anymore. The soil refused to produce the bountiful harvests of the past. Sometimes Lynol felt guilty; hunger was something she had never experienced. Their farm was the rarity. Its soil continued to raise relatively abundant crops. A lot of the food sold in Galvin came from the excess crops raised on their farm and the Gor farm next to them.

Going back inside, Lynol started a fire in the heavy cast iron cooking stove and placed a skillet on top, and in just a few minutes she had made a quick breakfast of bacon, eggs, and toast. She coated the crisp toast thickly with strawberry jam from the previous year's canning, enjoying the sweet, tart taste. During the long summer months, she did an abundance of canning, trading the excess in Galvin. It helped to bring in some extra money and allowed her to purchase a few items that made living out on the farm more comfortable.

-

Lynol worked around the house for several hours, cleaning and doing the odd jobs required in maintaining a pleasant, immaculate home. She had just finished wiping down the kitchen table when a commotion outside drew her attention. Looking out the window, she saw her father leading one of their horses, a bay mare harnessed to a creaky two-wheeled wooden cart, into the barn. He was back much earlier than she had expected.

Lynol had many pleasant memories associated with that old two-story wooden farm building. She had spent much of her childhood playing in the musty straw piles inside, acting as if she was a captive princess hiding from the evil dragon Gilmreth. Her two childhood friends, Kalvin and Dresdia Gor, would join her, coming to her rescue as they enacted their favorite fantasies in the safety of the old barn.

In many ways, she missed those carefree childhood days. Days in which she and her friends had used their growing childhood imaginations to keep themselves occupied. She well remembered all the laughter and lighthearted fun that ensued from their fanciful childhood games.

Walking out into the yard, she went toward the barn, curious to see what supplies her father had traded for in Galvin. Fortunately, their farm was the most productive one in the local area. Their pastures were greener covered in thick grass. Their stock was healthier and bred true. Lynol often wondered if their good fortune had anything to do with Malcon Sylvar; if his sorcery had somehow purged the farm from the poisons that affected the ground of so many others; poisons left over from the legendary Worldfire and Gilmreth.

Stock on other farms withered and died seemingly without any reason, their offspring often born deformed and having to be destroyed. There were even rumors that an occasional newborn child would vanish mysteriously, and the parents wouldn’t explain what had happened. Lynol wondered if the same problem with the stock not breeding true might occasionally happen to people. Just the thought made a cold shiver run down her back; she hoped the stories weren’t true.

She wondered what that ancient world had been like. It had been the Golden Age of man when sorcery was at its highest and man dared to play God, when the great dragons were created through the powerful magic of the powerful sorcerers of that time.

The great dragons had been created to be servants of man, only to be let loose inadvertently on the shattered world of humankind when the Worldfire descended upon the Golden Age. The Worldfire had hurled man back into the Stone Age, destroying the magnificent cities of that period. Nothing from that ancient era survived intact other than a few mysterious artifacts whose purposes remained uncertain.

The world after the Worldfire was destitute and lacking in natural resources, most of its science and history lost. It barely supported the meager agricultural communities, which huddled close to the green areas near the mountains in an ever-growing-harsher world. It seemed as if life itself was gradually fading away. Plants, animals, and even people were less and less prevalent with each passing generation.

“Good morning, Lynol,” her father said with a mysterious smile, coming out of the barn carrying several bulky cloth wrapped packages.

“I wasn’t expecting you back so soon,” Lynol said in a pleasant voice. She was pleased that her father was already home.

“Morning chores already done?” he asked as he walked up to her.

“Most of them,” Lynol replied as she looked intriguingly at the packages her father was holding. “I expected you to spend more time in Galvin.”

“I only had a few items I needed,” her father responded with a slight smile, as if hiding a secret.

“What did you get?” Lynol asked curiously, wondering what her father was carrying.

Normally they discussed any supplies needed, but this time her father had been evasive about what it was he needed to barter for in Galvin. Her father had only smiled and looked at her in that patient, paternal way.

“Some items I thought you might need. After all, how many generations has it been since a member of our family possessed any of the old sorcery powers?” he commented with a straight face, walking past her and up the porch steps.

Lynol found she was speechless. She stood frozen, dumbfounded, her face turning pale; the old sorcery powers! Her father knew! How had he found out? She had been so careful not to display any of her new abilities where anyone might observe or notice, especially her father. Just how much did he know? Concerned, she turned to follow him into the house, her mind a jumble of mixed emotions. She could feel the growing tension in her body and tried to will herself to relax.

Damon stopped on the porch turning to wait for Lynol to catch up. He noticed her worried and questioning expression as she followed him up onto the porch. “I’ve seen the animals and how they act around you. I’ve seen that faraway look in your eyes on occasions as if you’re listening to some inner voice,” Damon explained in his fatherly tone, trying to ease his young daughter’s concerns. “I’ve suspected for a while what was happening and have been waiting for you to say something. How else can you explain totally wild animals coming up and eating out of your hand?”

“I was afraid to say anything,” Lynol confessed hesitantly, looking into her father’s warm eyes. In some ways, she felt relieved the secret was finally out in the open. “I wasn’t sure myself what I was experiencing. I didn’t know if it really was sorcery or just my over active imagination. There has been no sorcery in our family in generations. I just didn’t know what to say, and I was also frightened by what it might mean.”

Lynol stepped closer to her father, staring questionably at him. She felt confused and hesitant. She certainly didn’t want to mention what had happened at the Sylvar Stone the previous night, which was just too strange. It might cause him to worry. Nor did she want to mention her brief mental contact with Gilmreth. That memory still sent chills down her back. There were also those few moments when it seemed as if she was back in time, when Gilmreth had killed Lys. So much had happened so quickly. She was at a loss for words; she didn’t know what to say to her father. His revelation had taken her totally by surprise.

“You are the first child in generations with eyes so brilliantly blue,” Damon said softly, raising his eyebrows, wrinkling his forehead, and giving her a long, caring look recalling a past memory. “Did you know light blue eyes in the Sylvar family are almost always a sign of the ancient family power? For many long generations, since before the time of Malcon, blue eyes like yours were usually a sign of the ability to wield the magical powers of sorcery, which were so prevalent in our family in those early years. I didn’t think about it much when you were born because your mother’s eyes were the same captivating blue.”

“Mother’s eyes were blue?” Lynol’s hand went to her throat, surprised and intrigued. It was so seldom her father ever spoke of Kathryn. She knew it always made her father feel very sad. All the wonderful years they could have shared together; if only that deadly fever hadn’t struck their village, taking her away while she was still so young and full of life.

“The old stories say that Lys Sylvar’s eyes were also a light blue,” Damon continued in the same soft voice, opening the door and letting Lynol enter before following.

Once inside, he went to the kitchen table and set the bulky packages down. Meticulously, Damon slowly took the wrappings off the first large package, handing their surprising contents to Lynol with a mystifying satisfied smile. The first item was a new snow-white blouse made from one of the expensive, rare fabrics, which came from the fancy clothing shops in distant Draydon. Along with the blouse were a new pair of dark blue denim jeans and a handcrafted pair of leather hiking boots.

“Father, these things are so expensive!” exclaimed Lynol, running her fingers over the supple material of the blouse, admiring the fine texture, and imagining how it would feel against her skin. This material was much stronger than her normal clothes, though it looked much more delicate. It would surely beat the material most of her clothes were made from.

“Gwen Mystol was quite happy to help me pick these out for you. She said it was about time I bought you some decent clothes,” Damon replied with a smile, recalling how pleased and excited Gwen had been when he told her what he wanted for Lynol.

“Why did you buy these?” asked Lynol, holding the clothes in her arms and finding it hard to believe she actually held such attire.

Most of her clothes she cut and sewed by hand, or were made by Gwen at the trading store in Galvin. Gwen had been like a mother to her for years, treating her as if she were her own child. Lynol could just imagine Gwen’s excitement at getting to help pick these clothes out.

“It’s time the people around here remember just who the Sylvars are!” Damon replied in a determined voice, his brown eyes meeting Lynol’s blue ones.

“I don’t understand,” Lynol spoke, wondering what was in the other package.

“If Gilmreth is about to awaken, it’s our duty to prepare them. For far too long we have allowed them to laugh and scoff at our stories,” continued Damon, allowing the irritation he felt at the villager’s disbelief creep into his voice. “They must understand that the legends and prophecies of the past are part of our community’s true history. They must be prepared if Gilmreth is truly awakening!”

“But father, our own family hid much of the history of what happened with Gilmreth. Isn’t it our own fault that they refuse to believe?” Lynol asked with a rueful expression, remembering what her father had told her the night before.

Lynol knew many of the villagers would never believe in Gilmreth or sorcery, no matter what they told them. To them, a dragon was just too unbelievable. Malcon and Gilmreth were just fairy tales; too much time had passed.

“Yes,” Damon sighed, nodding slowly with a grimace. “We caused part of this problem because of the horror of what Gilmreth had done. We tired to protect the villagers and others from the horrible truth. Even so, we always told them Gilmreth was real and that someday he would return. Perhaps I have been remiss myself in not stressing the existence of Gilmreth more forcefully, perhaps after so much time even our own family began to have doubts.”

“Do you believe Gilmreth is about to awaken that the rumbling in the mountain is a sign of Malcon’s spell coming to an end?” Lynol managed to ask in a nervous and worried voice, fearing her father’s answer. She hoped the dragon would continue to sleep.

Her father was silent for a long moment before he slowly answered. “I don’t know. The mountain has rumbled before but never this powerfully or for this long. It could be the dragon, but then again it could just be an unusually large amount of snow on the peaks causing avalanches. It was so dry this past winter. I just don’t see how all the rumbling can be caused just by the winter snow melting.”

Lynol was silent lost in thought. Her father must believe that Gilmreth was about to awaken if he was telling her all of this. The trembling of the mountain recently must be related to Gilmreth. She felt an icy chill run down her neck at the significance of that thought. At the deadly implications if she was indeed the Sylvar sorceress of the ancient prophesies. For a moment, her mind wandered back to Lys and what her fate had been when she had tried to stop Gilmreth. Was she destined to suffer the same fate?

Did her father believe that she was the powerful sorceress mentioned in those ancient writings? Lynol didn’t see how she possibly could be. The things she could do were so insignificant compared to what the sorcerers of those ancient times had been able to achieve. Her father had to be misinterpreting the signs.

However, she reminded herself, she could sense the other sorceress on the far side of Firestorm Mountain. She had touched Gilmreth’s mind in his lair, there was the incident at the Sylvar Stone the night before, and the strange experience of Lys’ confrontation with Gilmreth. She still wondered if she should tell her father all of this. Lynol’s mind was full of many questions, but most she was afraid to voice.

“But I know so little,” Lynol finally admitted cautiously, still not sure just how much her father knew of her fledgling abilities. “There is no one to teach me what I need to know, and my abilities are so slight. I can influence the animals and a few other things, but nothing like what you have told me the sorcerers and sorceresses of the past could do.”

Her father only nodded, encouraging Lynol to continue. He wanted to hear what she had to say.

“What will we do if Gilmreth is awakening?” Lynol spoke in a worried voice, allowing a hint of fear to creep in. “The prophecies speak of a powerful sorceress, but I am so inadequate. I don’t see myself ever having the powers that it would take to face Gilmreth. I can’t be the sorceress of the prophecies. It has to be someone else! Perhaps the prophecies are meant for one of my children, for some sorceress not yet born who will face Gilmreth in the future.”

“You’re still very young,” replied Damon with a reassuring smile, understanding his daughter’s fears. He had also asked himself the same questions, but he knew a few things about sorcery that Lynol didn’t. “You are only sixteen years old and your powers are just beginning to manifest themselves. I suspect your powers will become much stronger in the years to come. You and I are the last of the Sylvars. As much as we both would like for it not to be so, you may indeed be the sorceress that is mentioned in the prophecies. There is nobody else!”

“I just can’t be that sorceress!” Lynol denied fervently, shaking her head, not wanting it to be so. “It must be one of my descendants the prophecies speak of. Besides, I don’t know anything about enacting sorcery spells. Isn’t it possible that Gilmreth isn’t awakening and that the trembling and rumblings from the mountain are nothing more than the melting of the winter snows?” Lynol felt uneasy about her future as she tried to deny her worst fear, shifting slightly on her feet, trying to deny what her father was implying. “Even if my abilities do get stronger, I have no way to learn how to use them or control them. I will never be a powerful sorceress!”

“Yes, Lynol, I understand that,” her father caught and held her eyes and smiled in that comfortable and protective fatherly way. “The powers of sorcery don’t come about overnight; they appear at the onset of adolescence and gradually increase. Moreover, while it’s true that it could be one of your descendants spoken of in the prophecies, we must assume that it’s not. To do otherwise would be to place all of us in grave danger, particularly you. Sorcery is a skill that is learned. It takes rigid training and stringent studies to produce a truly powerful sorcerer or sorceress.”

“That’s what I fear,” Lynol groaned quietly, a look of worry and frustration crossing her face, knowing that if she ever had to face Gilmreth she was doomed to fail. “How can I learn sorcery without someone to teach me?”

“The Sylvars have known for generations that there might come a time when a new sorceress would appear and need training,” Damon replied with a mysterious twinkle in his eyes, slowly removing the heavy cloth from the last package. “It was always believed that sorcery would return just prior to Gilmreth awakening. So this was placed in a secure place for just that occurrence.”

Whatever it was, the heavy protective cloth looked dusty, old, and frayed as if it hadn’t been exposed to the light of day for a very long time. With a sudden indrawn breath, Lynol saw her father fold the last of the cloth back to reveal a book, a remarkably large and indisputably old book.

“What is it?” Lynol asked in a low tone of voice, a stir of curiosity and excitement prickling the back of her neck. She held her breath, knowing intuitively what the ancient book must be, what it had to be!

“Malcon Sylvar created this book for Lys,” her father responded, handing the heavy book to Lynol. “It’s a book of sorcery spells. In it, Malcon put down many of the spells that Lys was to memorize and practice while he was gone on his prolonged journeys. It contains the incantations necessary to invoke many of the formidable spells he and she used.”

“This is a sorcery book!” Lynol exclaimed, her eyes lighting up with sudden excitement, not able to believe what she held in her hands. “One of Malcon’s sorcery books; this is what I have been searching for!”

She gazed at the cover of the book, running her hands gently over it. The cover was covered with arcane symbols, and the name Sylvar was prominently displayed. Dragons spewing flame were emblazoned on each corner of the cover. It was the age old family symbol.

Lynol held the book with awe, almost afraid to open it lest any of the ancient pages crumble. She found that, for the moment, she was speechless. This was Lys’ book, she thought in reverence, Malcon’s own daughter, and now here I am holding it in my hands nearly a thousand years later! Slowly opening the thick cover, she glanced at the pages. Much to her surprise, the sheets consisted of some type of mysterious metallic substance that felt as pliable as paper and unclouded as if written only yesterday. The writing inside hadn’t faded at all over the ages. Inside the front cover was an inscription, which she read slowly aloud.

-

To Lys Sylvar, my loving, beautiful daughter, this book contains much of the knowledge needed to develop your growing powers of sorcery. As my daughter, you will someday be a tremendously powerful sorceress. Your powers may even rival my own. Learn what this book contains carefully, and remember always use your abilities wisely. I wish we could spend more time together. A father really should be available to answer his daughter’s questions, but I must continue to search for a way to destroy Gilmreth, to rid our community of this deadly scourge. If you have any questions about what’s contained in these pages, ask your Uncle Glaycon. He will be glad to assist.

-

Your loving father: Malcon Sylvar.

-

Lynol was silent for a few moments, knowing that Malcon had cared deeply for his daughter. She could sense it in the writing; her features clouded and a single wet tear ran down her cheek while remembering the awful tragedy of Lys. She could only imagine the grief that Malcon must have felt upon learning of his daughter’s tragic end.

“Malcon wrote this to Lys,” Lynol said softly, afraid to touch the writing lest it fade away.

“Where was this book hidden? I’ve searched everywhere for something like this,” she asked curiously, still not believing she actually held one of Malcon’s legendary sorcery books in her trembling hands. Relief and hope flooded over her as the possibilities this book could offer grew in her mind. Perhaps not everything was quite as hopeless as she had first thought.

“On the remote edge of the farm, there is a hidden alcove in the rocks where the book has been safely hidden away,” replied Damon, seeing the relieved and excited look on his daughter’s face. “I believe the alcove was protected by a magical spell, which prevented this book from aging. As long as it was in the alcove it would remain as it was since the day it was placed there.”

“Are there any other books in the alcove?” asked Lynol, looking up at her father.

“There are no others,” her father replied, shaking his head. “This is the only book of sorcery that was neither destroyed nor placed in Malcon’s hidden cache. Even though sorcery vanished for many generations, we Sylvars always knew that someday it would return. The prophecies handed down through the generations predicted the rising of a powerful Sylvar sorceress who would appear with the awakening of Gilmreth. This book was put back for that eventuality.”

“Who put the book there?” asked Lynol, laying the book down on the table but still leaving her right hand touching it. She was almost afraid it would disappear if she let go.

“I believe Malcon Sylvar placed the book there,” replied Damon, placing his hand on top of Lynol’s and squeezing it reassuringly. “He knew full well what the prophecies foretold, and the book was placed in the alcove to help train the future Sylvar Sorceress.”

“You really believe that I may be that sorceress?” Lynol asked slowly with doubt and a trace of fear in her quivering voice.

She still found it hard to believe she could be the sorceress mentioned in the prophecies. It was just too unbelievable and frightening with dangerous implications. Her mind was a jumble of mixed emotions.

“Perhaps,” Damon replied slowly, trying his best to keep the worry and concern for his daughter out of his voice. He had rehearsed this conservation in his mind most of the morning. He knew he had to do his best to hide his own fear and worry from Lynol, lest she become even more frightened at what lay ahead of her. “The mountain is rumbling and you have demonstrated rudimentary sorcery powers already; the first since Malcon Sylvar’s time. The prophecies predict very clearly these occurrences. If this is the prophecy occurring, then we must prepare!”

Lynol was staring at him, her mouth open in surprise. So much had happened so quickly in the last twenty-four hours. Her mind was still trying to grasp the startling implications of everything. She was only sixteen; this was an entirely new world of experiences and possible dangers opening up for her. She still felt very uncertain how to react. She wasn’t even sure she wanted these responsibilities.

“You will study this book and what it contains several hours each day, plus learn the family’s secret history,” Damon went on, wishing that things were different. He feared very much for the safety of his daughter, his only child. “This book is highly descriptive about how to enact the sorcery spells it contains. Malcon created it specifically to act as a teaching tool for Lys during his long absences.”

“I just hope I can understand it,” spoke Lynol, turning several pages and glancing at a few of the spells in the first part of the book.

“This book allowed Lys to become a very powerful sorceress,” her father continued. “I hope it will serve you as well. If your powers continue to grow and you learn how to enact many of these spells, then we will know that you are indeed the sorceress of the prophecies.”

Lynol thumbed through a few more pages, marveling at the complexity of the spells and the clearness of the instructions. With this book, just maybe she could learn what sorcery she was capable of doing.

Could she actually be destined to be the powerful sorceress of the prophecies, or were her budding abilities just a fluke? Were her abilities just a freak occurrence in the family that actually meant nothing at all? But then again, she and her father were the only two Sylvars remaining. There were the rumblings from the mountain, which seemed to be getting stronger with each passing day. There was also the other sorceress on the far side of the mountains and the inexplicable reaction from the Sylvar Stone the night before.

Lynol knew deep in her heart that there could be no other; all the signs pointed to her. She would have to try to learn the spells in this book. She didn’t know what else she could do. Lynol suddenly felt dizzy and faint at the thought of what might lie in her future. She took a deep breath and slowly let it out.

“If I am the sorceress of the ancient prophecies and Gilmreth is awakening, then someday I will have to face the dragon,” whispered Lynol, shaking off the dizziness, her eyes wide with a slight hint of fear as she gazed at her father.

She felt icy shivers go up and down her back at just the thought. She just couldn’t imagine standing in front of the dragon as a sorceress. Both Lys and Malcon had failed to destroy Gilmreth; both had died when they faced the deadly all-powerful dragon. Was that her future also, to die facing Gilmreth?

“Perhaps,” Damon replied softly, gazing into his daughter’s captivating light blue eyes, wishing with all of his heart that he could take away the fear. “Gilmreth may not even be awakening, but all the signs say otherwise. The information in this book allowed Lys to learn and to control much of the power she displayed in her confrontation with Gilmreth. Hopefully, you will have the time needed to complete your studies.”

“But Lys also had Malcon’s brother Glaycon to help her,” Lynol reminded her father, recalling the story from the previous night and what Malcon had written in his note to Lys. “If Lys had any problems with these spells, at least she had someone who could help her. I have no one!”

“Glaycon was only a weak sorcerer,” her father replied, understanding his daughter’s concern. “He was there to answer Lys’ questions. I wish things were different, Lynol; at least we have the book.”

“I guess it will have to suffice for now,” responded Lynol, looking down at the book not knowing what else she could do. She needed time to think, to understand what was happening to her. She needed to sort all of this out in her mind.

“The spells are very detailed, and I’m sure you will be able to figure them out,” her father replied reassuringly. He hoped so; he didn’t know what else they could do. He was trying to put on a brave front for Lynol, but inside he was worried.

Lynol only nodded, as she slowly turned the pages of the book reading some of the written words.

Looking at Lynol, as she turned the pages of the sorcery book, Damon felt pride in his daughter. He had accepted what his daughter’s destiny might be, and he would do everything in his power to help her. After all, they were both Sylvars.

This was the heavy family legacy, the responsibility the Sylvars had held and protected over the long generations since Malcon Sylvar put Gilmreth to sleep so many centuries ago. It was why the family had stayed on the farm so close to the mountain generation after generation, waiting and watching for the signs of Gilmreth’s awakening.

“We know from the stories, which were handed down, that Lys possibly injured Gilmreth in her clash with the dragon,” Damon spoke up trying to keep his breathing steady, watching Lynol closely. She was only sixteen, and this was a heavy weight to place on such young shoulders. “Not enough to permanently harm the dragon, but she did hurt it nevertheless. We also know that Malcon held off the dragon in his confrontation with Gilmreth and once again, the dragon felt considerable pain. The dragon is not unbeatable; Lys and Malcon proved that. Joined together, their powers might have eventually been powerful enough to destroy Gilmreth.”

”But both lost in the end; neither survived their final confrontations with Gilmreth,” Lynol reminded her father, feeling her heart pounding and fearing the inevitable if she had to face the dragon. “I just don’t know if I can do this! I don’t know if I want to do this!”

“When and if Gilmreth awakens we will search for another way,” replied Damon, leaning forward, placing his large hand on Lynol’s shoulder, and gently squeezing it reassuringly. “We must learn from their mistakes. Remember, the dragon has been asleep for a very long time and he will be extremely weak when he awakens. Perhaps in this weakened state Gilmreth will be vulnerable.”

Lynol nodded; however, she needed time, a lot of time to practice her sorcery. Lynol feared with all of her heart that they might not have that precious time. “I won’t let you down, father,” she spoke, trying to keep the fear out of her voice. She didn’t know what else to say.

She knew it would take years for her to learn what her abilities were. Her confrontation with Gilmreth was far in the future, or at least she hoped it was. “I will study and learn everything I can, I promise!” She tried her best to keep her self-doubts out of her voice.

Lynol knew, as a Sylvar, what was expected of her; what her father expected. Nevertheless, the crucial question was, did she genuinely want to set herself upon this path? She had a lot to think about over the next few days.

-

Across the mountain, Jalene was already up and wandering the nearly deserted early morning streets of Draydon. In the distance, she could see smoke rising from the cooking ovens in the town’s main market square. Already, tantalizing aromas of cooking meats and sweet breads wafted through the early morning air, serving as a sharp reminder that she hadn’t eaten breakfast.

The town was still in semi-darkness with the rising sun shielded by the towering heights of Firestorm Mountain. She wore light clothing, a simple blouse and pants. Her destination this morning was the old library archive, which the town meticulously maintained at its heart. Reaching the tall three-story stone building, Jalene went in, coming to a stop before two graying old women curators seated behind a heavy oak desk just inside the entrance.

“How can we help you this fine morning?” the one to the left spoke, looking up to stare at Jalene with an inquisitive eye. Her gray hair brushed finely back and wrinkles from a long life running in thin lines across her face.

They didn’t often have visitors this early. Actually, they didn’t have many visitors at all anymore. They looked at Jalene curiously.

Jalene smiled maliciously, the sharp tips of her teeth brushing her pale lips. Glancing around to make certain no one else was about Jalene moved her right hand, tracing symbols in the air with a rapid flickering of her fingers. She spoke several guttural phrases, watching expectantly as a faint red glow built up around the two helpless women, then faded quickly away. The spell she had woven was a simple one of obedience. It caused the recipient to disclose the truth and obey Jalene without question. The two women sat as if frozen with blank stares upon their faces.

“I need to see any information you have on sorcery and the dragon Gilmreth,” Jalene said sharply, waiting for a reaction, her dark eyes going piercingly from one old woman to the other as she waited impatiently for a response.

The older of the two woman curators rose jerkily to her feet and walked off stiffly down one of the dimly lit stone corridors leading deeper into the archives. The woman acted as if she was in a trance, with no trace of emotion or concern on her withered face. Jalene instructed the still seated curator to carry on normally, then turned and hurriedly followed the other old woman down the corridor.

Narrow windows strategically placed let in some light, and an occasional flickering oil lamp furnished a dim, yellow glow as they walked. Jalene followed, curious and impatient to see where the old woman would take her. Down several dimly lighted corridors they walked, past doors leading to rooms crammed full of books and ancient scrolls. The library was chilly, and Jalene shivered as she followed the elderly curator.

At last the curator came to a stop, to stand inexplicably before a seemingly solid stone wall. Reaching out, the woman pressed two of the gray stones simultaneously with her hands, causing a section of the wall to suddenly slide back with a loud, protesting groan. Dust sifted down from the opening, indicating that it had been a very long time since this doorway had been opened.

Looking past the old curator, Jalene saw a set of narrow stairs leading down, disappearing into darkness. A musty smell of stale air long undisturbed flowed around them from the opening. The woman lit a half-empty oil lamp, which was sitting on a dusty shelf just inside and began slowly descending the steps.

Jalene followed, counting twenty-eight steps before they reached the bottom, to discover they were in a large stone room with a high vaulted ceiling lined with shelves. The shelves were filled with numerous books and scrolls. Many of the books and scrolls were so old the paper was beginning to disintegrate and transform to dust.

From the thick, undisturbed coating of dust on the floor and walls, it was evident this room hadn’t been entered in years. The old woman sat the oil lamp down on the room’s only table. She turned to face Jalene expectantly, her expression still void of emotion.

The air in the room was unbelievably dank and stale. Jalene sneezed suddenly from the dust they had stirred up just from their entrance. Raising her right hand, Jalene moved her fingers through a complicated pattern, a barely discernible red radiance linking her fingertips. A sudden light breeze seemed to stir the dust in the room as fresh air replaced the stale. For several long minutes, the magical breeze circulated, refreshing the air in the long sealed up room and removing much of the dust. At last, the glow from Jalene’s fingers faded, and the breeze vanished as if it had never been.

“You may leave now and continue your normal duties,” Jalene told the curator crisply. “Return in two hours and when you do, bring some fruit and fresh water.”

Nodding, the old woman turned and mounted the steps, climbing slowly back toward the entrance up above. After several long moments, Jalene heard the entrance slide shut with a loud rumbling groan, sealing her in. Jalene saw there were several large candles placed strategically around the room. With a wave of her hand and a controlled thought they blazed up, casting their flickering yellow light upon the crowded shelves.

Jalene looked around, trying to decide where to start. From the sheer number of books and scrolls on the shelves, it was very evident that she might be here for a considerable length of time. She sighed heavily, knowing she had a lot of reading to do. This type of search could be extremely tiresome and tedious.

Going over to the shelves on one wall, she took down several aging volumes and walked back over to the table. Frowning, she concentrated again, and the remaining dust disappeared from the table and the chair as well as the two fragile books she held. Looking around the dimly lit room, she realized with a feeling of deep satisfaction that this was a treasure trove of ancient knowledge; exactly what she had hoped to find in Draydon.

Sitting down, she slowly opened the first book and began rapidly to thumb through the yellow tattered pages. She knew what she was looking for and would recognize it instantly. Sometime in the remote past, someone had gone to considerable pain and effort to hide these scrolls and books, perhaps to ensure their survival from nonbelievers who might have destroyed them and the dangerous information they contained. With a casual gesture of her hand and a few carefully chosen phrases, the candles on the wall flared up brighter. The oil lamp increased its burning glow helping to cast more light about the room.

Two hours passed by quickly as she went frustratingly through book after book, not finding what she was seeking. She felt highly aggravated at the curators for the unforgivably poor condition these books and scrolls were in. It was obvious this room had been ignored for far too long.

The search was tedious with only occasional hints of what she was hunting for. There were numerous references to ancient sorcerers, but nothing tangible about Malcon Sylvar or Gilmreth. Several spells were briefly described, but not in particularly good detail. It was becoming obvious that people who knew very little about sorcery or the dragon had written most of these scrolls and books. Or else who ever had created this room had removed the more valuable documents and hidden them elsewhere.

The old woman's return, carrying a pitcher of fresh water and a hand woven basket full of assorted fruits, interrupted Jalene’s search. Jalene quickly wove another spell refreshing the rapidly growing stale air in the room.

After dismissing the woman, Jalene ate several of the tart fruits, washing them down with the cool water. Then, settling back, she began going through more of the ancient decaying books. Jalene’s eyes glanced through the crumbling pages with frustration. Some pages actually turned to fine dust in her hands. In the back of her mind, she had already decided to punish the two elderly curators for the inexcusable condition of the books and scrolls. If what she was seeking had been destroyed by their carelessness, they would pay dearly for their negligence!

-

After hurriedly completing her morning chores, Lynol retired to her room. Lying back on her bed, she opened the sorcery book her father had given her that morning. For a long time she lay enthralled, reading the ancient volume amazed at the wealth of information it contained and the intricate details that went into casting a spell. It became evident very quickly just how little she actually knew. At least Lys had seen her father and Glaycon practice their sorcery. Lynol had never heard or seen anyone do any of the amazing things mentioned in just the first few pages of this incredible book.

According to it, sorcery was not actually magic. She was born with some inner gift, a physical ability that allowed her to tap the energy currents that were prevalent everywhere upon the Earth. Most people were unaware of this energy and couldn’t affect it. However, people like Lynol could draw upon it and with the help of the knowledge in this book, cause it to perform what looked like actual magic.

The gestures made with the hands were nothing more than connecting the energy currents in the air into complicated patterns to allow a sorcerer to better direct and funnel the energies that were present. The words, intoned in specific inflections and pitches, molded and wove the energy patterns as they formed. Storms could be called, people could be healed, plants could be stimulated to grow quicker, and dozens of other seemingly impossible and incredible things were possible.

-

Voices outside interrupted her reading prematurely in the early afternoon. Getting up, she walked to the kitchen door to gaze curiously outside. Aldin Gor and his son Kalvin were standing next to her father, engrossed in conversation at the base of the steps. She was surprised at how much time had passed since she had started going through the sorcery book.

Smiling to herself, she opened the door, stepping quietly out onto the porch. She and Kalvin had been friends for years. They had spent many long hours as children playing in the old barn. Kalvin was always the dashing prince who rescued her from the evil dragon Gilmreth. The Gors lived on the farmstead just to the south of theirs and were their closest neighbors. The Gors were also the only ones that actually believed that Gilmreth and sorcery once existed.

Kalvin had an intense curiosity about everything and enjoyed reading almost as much as Lynol did. She was glad to see Kalvin. She really needed someone to talk to that was her own age. So much had happened in the last twenty-four hours; she was still finding it hard to adjust to it all. The ramifications of her newfound knowledge and heritage were almost overwhelming.

“I tell you, Damon, the dragon is awakening!” Aldin was saying with concern in his normally jovial voice. “The mountain rumbles louder every day; no one remembers such anger coming from Firestorm Mountain in generations. If Gilmreth does sleep deep within, surely the dragon must be disturbed from his rest.”

“There are not many that still believe those old stories, Aldin, my friend,” Damon replied somberly, glancing toward the mountain. “Our family has always known that Gilmreth still slumbers in his lair beneath Firestorm Mountain. You have heard me tell the story of the sorcerer Malcon Sylvar and how he sacrificed his life to put the great dragon to sleep.”

“Why couldn’t Malcon destroy the dragon?” Kalvin asked, his curiosity aroused. He could sit for hours listening to Aldin or Damon telling stories about Gilmreth and the magical days of the great sorcerers. The rumbling from the mountain had Kalvin’s father extremely worried. He knew they would all be in considerable danger if it were indeed Gilmreth causing the mountain to rumble. “He was supposed to be the most powerful sorcerer since the Worldfire.”

“Malcon couldn’t,” replied Damon, shaking his head and looking at the boy. He realized that with each passing day Kalvin was becoming a young man. “Malcon’s power in sorcery was great, but Gilmreth was created from a much stronger and more ancient power. The dragon came from the days just before the Worldfire when the legendary Golden Age of sorcery was at its highest. The greatest sorcerers from that almost mystical time merged their powers to create the dragons. Gilmreth was the ultimate creation of that time of powerful, uncontrolled sorcery.”

“Is there nothing that can destroy Gilmreth?” Kalvin persisted, worried that if the dragon awoke nothing could stand in its way and it might easily kill them all. Their homes were also the closest to the mountain.

”There was an amulet created in the last days, just before the Worldfire, that might,” replied Damon rubbing his chin with his right hand hesitantly remembering the ancient legends. This was something that he hadn’t even mentioned to Lynol. He had almost forgotten about it. “Malcon searched for many years, in far away lands, looking and tracking down rumors of this powerful amulet. Finally, he gave up the search believing the magical amulet destroyed in the Worldfire.”

“What is this amulet?” Aldin asked curiously. This was something he had never heard of.

“It was created in the final hectic days just before the Worldfire. Supposedly possession of this powerful amulet caused a fight amongst the ancient sorcerers commencing the destruction of the Golden Age,” Damon replied somberly, remembering what his father had told him about the Stone of Loraine.

“A magical amulet,” Kalvin repeated, highly interested. “What did it look like?”

“The amulet is a large, flawless ruby, fiery red in color,” Damon replied. “The sorcerers of that time used their combined powers on the stone to create a tremendous amplifier for their abilities. When they realized what they had created, and the power it possessed, they fell to fighting amongst themselves for control. The ruby, which they called the Stone of Loraine, vanished during the Worldfire.”

Everyone was quiet for a moment. Looking up, Kalvin saw Lynol standing quietly on the porch, watching him, looking radiant in the early afternoon sunlight with a teasing twinkle in her eyes. Smiling, he left the two adults, bounding up the steps and stopping next to Lynol.

-

“Hi!” he said brightly. “I haven’t seen you for days. Dresdia wants you to come over to visit. WhiteStar had her foal!”

“I bet she’s really excited,” replied Lynol, looking at Kalvin appraisingly. His thick, wavy black hair and brown eyes offset a handsome face. The heavy farm work that Kalvin performed daily had given him a dark tan and strong, sinewy muscles. Lynol doubted there was an ounce of fat on his lean body.

Lynol smiled, imagining Dresdia’s excitement at the new baby colt. Dresdia and she were best friends. Their two farms were the only two this far out toward Firestorm Mountain, and the two families had been close for a number of years. Kalvin was a year older than she was, and she and Dresdia were almost the same age, with Lynol being just a few months older. A new colt was a rare enough occurrence to justify a visit. Besides, it might do her some good to spend some time with her friends and allow her to get things straight in her head.

“We were talking about the mountain. It’s been making more noise than I can ever remember,” said Kalvin, trying to impress Lynol. “Just the rumbling is enough to keep you awake at night.” Kalvin paused, trying not to stare too obviously at Lynol.

In the past year, Lynol had really started to mature. She was no longer the flat chested young girl who used to come over and cavort with him and his sister. Yes, she was definitely looking more like an attractive young woman. Sometimes the physical changes made Kalvin feel acutely uncomfortable and self-conscious; everything used to be so simple when they were children.

“I heard,” Lynol replied, noncommittally.

“My father thinks it might be Gilmreth stirring in the mountain.” Kalvin continued, his eyes on Lynol. “What do you think?”

“I don’t know, Kalvin,” Lynol responded, not wanting to talk about the dragon. However, listening to her father talk to Aldin had raised even more questions. What was this Stone of Loraine he had mentioned? She had never heard of it before. She would have to remember to ask him about it later.

Silence fell and neither said anything for a few moments. Finally, Kalvin looked at Lynol. “I wonder what Gilmreth looks like?”

“Like a dragon,” Lynol replied, exasperated, shaking her head at Kalvin, and wishing he would change the subject. “Gilmreth is something huge, hideous, and extremely dangerous!”

“I suppose,” Kalvin replied slowly, trying to picture the dragon in his mind.

Lynol had noticed that Kalvin had been treating her differently these past few months. He seemed extremely nervous and agitated anytime they accidentally bumped into each other. She knew she and Dresdia were maturing and filling out rapidly, and their clothes scarcely fit from month to month anymore. Lynol suspected this transformation was making Kalvin nervous, not knowing how to handle this sudden growing maturity or how to treat her. Sometimes she wasn’t sure how to handle it either. Now all this sorcery stuff had made it even more complicated.

“There’s an apple pie inside if you’re interested,” she said teasingly, knowing Kalvin wouldn’t be able to resist the offer. Moreover, it would get the conversation off Gilmreth. It made her feel warm inside knowing how much Kalvin enjoyed her cooking.

“Really?” he replied, his face brightening, running his tongue over his lips and imagining he could taste the pie.

Lynol was an excellent cook; her baking was almost worth dying for at times! In addition, it would allow them to spend a little bit of time alone together. Maybe he could talk her into coming over to see the new colt.

“Come on,” she said, taking his hand and leading the way inside. Her father and Aldin were still deeply engrossed in conversation, gesturing occasionally toward the mountain. They, on the other hand, could at least go inside where it was cooler.

After getting Kalvin to sit at the table, Lynol opened the cold box in one of the back rooms they used as a pantry and took out the cold apple pie. Cutting a generous slice, she placed it on a plate.

The cold box was one of several strange mysteries inside the large house. Food inside was kept cold and could stay fresh for days, even when the temperature outside was scorching. Lynol suspected the cold box was the result of sorcery from ages past. It had always been in the house and was a family enigma. Lynol had always taken it for granted, but now she wondered if sorcery was indeed what kept the food inside cold. Perhaps she should ask her father about it; with what he had revealed the night before, maybe he knew who had made the cold box or even how it worked.

Lynol walked back into the kitchen, the plate containing the slice of apple pie balanced in one hand, two glasses of fresh, cold milk in the other. She saw Kalvin’s eyes light up upon seeing her return. For some reason, this made her feel strange and tingly inside. With a smile, she set the pie and one of the glasses of milk down in front of him, and then sat down across the table watching as Kalvin tasted the first, tantalizing bite.

“This is great!” he exclaimed, closing his eyes and savoring the taste, not wanting it to go away. He couldn’t decide what he liked best. The surprise when Lynol had grabbed his hand and led him to the table, her hand had felt so warm, soft, and delicate; or the pie as he slowly swallowed the first savory bites. “One of these days you have to show me how you get these so cold.” For the time being, he decided, the pie would win, but just barely. He took a deep drink of the milk, enjoying the coldness as he swallowed, a stray white drop appearing on the side of his mouth.

Nodding with a pleased smile, Lynol watched delightedly as Kalvin quickly finished off the rest of the pie on his plate. “Tell Dresdia I will be over tomorrow. I’d love to see the new foal. I bet she’s excited! Also, the wild berries are ripe down in the west meadow. Dresdia and I plan on gathering them to make jelly.”

“I can help if you want,” stammered Kalvin, flushing from Lynol’s close proximity.

Why did he feel so unsure of himself around her? Sometimes he felt like he was making a fool of himself whenever they were together. He could kick himself at his nervousness. For Gods sake, this was Lynol! They had known and played with each other for years, ever since they were small children. Why did he have to stammer so much around her recently? He didn’t use to have that problem.

“If you have nothing else to do, sure, we can always use someone else to help carry the berries. The berry bushes are heavily laden this year, more than I can ever remember. Dresdia and I can probably make up some extra jelly to trade in Galvin.”

They sat around and talked for quite awhile about Dresdia, the new foal, and things that were going on in Galvin. Lynol was feeling very relaxed and glad that Kalvin was there. He was so easy to talk to, and he was a very good listener. However, she couldn’t actually tell him what was worrying her; some things would have to remain a secret. Nevertheless, just the idle talk was doing her some good.

The door opening interrupted them as Kalvin’s father stuck his head in. “Sorry to interrupt, kids, but it’s time to go. We still have a lot of work to do this afternoon, Kalvin.”

Standing up, Kalvin nodded politely, saying goodbye to Lynol. “The pie was great Lynol. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He wished he could stay longer, but his father was right. They still had a lot of work they needed to finish. They had been returning from Galvin where they had picked up a few supplies and had only stopped by to say hello.

Lynol swallowed her disappointment; she wished he could have stayed longer; Kalvin was so sweet. She suspected he had a crush on her. Just being able to talk to him had made her feel so much more at ease with everything. She wasn’t sure yet how she was going to deal with Kalvin; maybe she could talk to Dresdia about it tomorrow.

Neither she nor Dresdia had much experience with boys. The memory of his delight over the apple pie continued to make her feel content as she lingered over her glass of cold milk, savoring the taste of it. Kalvin had a way of making her feel so relaxed and tingly inside. She wondered idly what her own true feelings were about Kalvin. She had never seriously looked at him in this manner before, and the thought surprised her.

-

In Draydon, Jalene left the archives clutching several ancient books and a half-withered scroll. She had found them crammed back behind the other books on a top shelf hidden from sight. Both of the books mentioned the Sylvars and the long history of sorcery associated with the family. The scroll, however, was her prize. It contained a detailed description of Gilmreth and a brief history of the dragon dating back hundreds of years before Malcon Sylvar put Gilmreth to sleep.

Upon leaving the archives, she ordered the two old curators to meticulously dust and scrub the hidden room, then forget its existence as well as her clandestine visit. Someday she might need more information from its ancient shelves. She also didn’t want to risk anyone else stumbling upon the dangerous information it contained. In the wrong hands, it could possibly be used against her.

Walking down the narrow stone street back toward the inn, Jalene noticed that many inhabitants of the nearby shops looked at her with distaste. If not for the need to conserve her power, she would have made them regret their insulting looks.

Jalene knew that she really needed to spend some time recuperating from all the spells she had been casting recently. Her body looked haggard and drawn from all the energy invoking the spells drew from her. Maybe it would be a good idea to spend some time resting and building up her strength. She had been neglecting herself for far too long; there were too many nights she went to asleep exhausted. She knew she had time to complete her plans; there was no point in rushing. Many of the people who looked at her so distastefully now would in the future rue the day they had ever laid eyes upon her.

There were few people out on the streets and only an occasional traveler making their way into the many shops. Draydon was the trading center for much of the surrounding area, but in recent years as the population had steadily dwindled, so had Draydon’s trade. Jalene knew the local population was far less than what it had been in Gilmreth’s time. It was rumored that, on the far side of the mountain, it was even worse.

She hadn’t paid much attention to the shops that morning when she had gone to the archives and she noticed, with some surprise, several of the shops along the street were closed and boarded up. She had spent most of her time the previous day in the town’s crowded main market square searching for the ingredients she needed for her spells.

Jalene realized that when she succeeded in waking Gilmreth, she might be hard pressed to find him the type of sustenance he was used to feeding upon in the past. There wouldn’t be as great an abundance of virgins as there was in Gilmreth’s earlier, more populace times.

From her travels, she knew the declining population was true everywhere. Many villages in some regions lay abandoned and whole regions were entirely depopulated. The encroaching deserts had forced people to move toward the few isolated pockets of green still hugging the mountains. Due to the steadily decreasing population, the mountain areas hadn’t felt the pressure of overcrowding.

Arriving at the small inn, she went upstairs and deposited her books and the scroll on the bed. Returning downstairs, she went to see what kind of food the small inn had to offer. Settling down at a table, Jalene waited impatiently as a young woman came over.

The smell of baking bread hung tantalizingly in the air, making Jalene realize just how hungry she was. Her stomach ached for want of food. The young woman put down a glass of fresh water and placed a handwritten menu on the table. Glancing curiously at the food available, Jalene placed her order and waited impatiently while slowly sipping the water and looking around at the other occupants of the inn.

From what she had noticed the night before and this morning, the inn was nearly empty. The clerk had been especially helpful when she had paid for her room in advance with a gold coin. The sudden greedy gleam in the clerk’s eyes bore mute testimony to how seldom he saw such rare coins.

Two bearded men, dressed in rough mountain clothes, stood at the small bar taking long drinks from their glasses, swirling the amber colored liquid around and laughing at some private joke. One of the men, the shorter of the two with a raggedly cropped beard, looked up and saw Jalene sitting by herself. After elbowing his friend, he staggered unsteadily in her direction, nearly bumping into another table.

“Hello,” he stammered gruffly in a drunken, partially slurred voice, staring down at Jalene. “What is a fine woman like you doing sitting alone? Would you like some company? My friend and I have just returned from Firestorm Mountain on a trapping trip, and we have money to spend if you know what I mean,” he ended with a leer, the foul odor of alcohol tainting his breath. However, the answer he hoped for was not forthcoming.

Jalene angrily reached her hand up to her neck and pulled out the small amulet that hung from a silver chain just above her breasts. The small red stone, set in silver, blazed with a sudden, furious red light as she clasped it in her right hand and concentrated briefly. Jalene’s anger and loathing burst forth like a searing hot flame. A red beam of light flashed from the stone, throwing the man backward, causing him to crash into a nearby table and fall noisily to the floor amongst the smashed ruins. The server girl screamed and ran frightened into the kitchen, disappearing from sight.

The man shakily stood back up, looking at Jalene with fear and confusion on his rough face. His drunkenness rapidly disappeared as he realized his predicament. He stood upon wobbly legs, unsure of what had transpired or what he should do. He couldn’t remember the woman striking him, but how else could she have knocked him down?

Jalene stood, pushing her chair back, gathering her anger. She slowly approached the man, glaring at him contemptuously. With a measured, calculated look, she paused, thinking. She needed several strong men to complete the next part of her plan. “You mentioned going to Firestorm Mountain trapping; is that the truth, or just your mouth running?” she demanded, her eyes blazing coal black, and her amulet clenched tightly in her hand. With the power of her amulet, she could end this man’s life as easily as making a fist.

“It’s the truth, I swear it!” the man mumbled, quickly stepping back lest she strike him again.

“I may have employment for you and your friend if you’re interested,” she continued coolly, measuring both men. “I wish to go to Firestorm Mountain, to a certain area on the far side.”

The other man came over, frowning. He had recognized Jalene’s use of sorcery and had hung back, uncertain whether he should come to his friend’s aid. Sorcery was the only explanation for the flash of red light that had struck Clyton and slammed him into the floor. He had thought sorcery was a myth. You only heard about it in legends. But there was no doubt in Clyton’s mind what he had just witnessed. Recalling some of the abnormal things he had seen on that infernal mountain, sorcery wasn’t that difficult to accept. Perhaps he could learn her secret, find out what power she possessed and some way to gain control of it!

“You must excuse Clyton; he doesn’t have any manners when it comes to the ladies. He also can’t hold his liquor very well, either,” he added, glaring angrily at his friend who cast his gaze down toward the floor. Returning his eyes to Jalene, he continued calmly. “My name’s Kason. So you want to travel to Firestorm Mountain; what is it you seek on the mountain?”

Jalene noticed this man seemed to be at least sober and sounded partially intelligent. “A cave that is supposed to exist on the far side, it’s two thirds up the side of the mountain. I have a map that gives directions about how to locate it.”

“A cave, huh?” the man said. He stepped back and stared at Jalene with a hint of suspicion in his eyes. “Just what is it you’re looking for in this cave? There’s nothing up on that mountain worth anything other than the animals we trap, not even stories of hidden treasure. I can’t remember seeing a cave anywhere.”

“The cave is there!” Jalene snapped sharply, clasping her amulet, her piercing gaze traveling over both men. How dare this man question her!

“Two thirds up the far side of the mountain,” Kason mused, pulling at his beard, frowning, looking thoughtfully at the slim woman who had just put a man twice her weight down on the floor. “It would take us at least five or six days just to reach that side of the mountain. We would have to use the upper passes instead of the lower ones the trade wagons use, and we would need several pack animals and a lot of supplies. It’s a very dangerous trip, particularly this time of the year.”

“I can pay for the supplies,” Jalene said stiffly, shaking her small purse that rattled with heavy gold coins. “Just get what we need. I will pay you six gold coins apiece if you’re interested; half when we leave and half when we get back.”

“Six gold coins apiece?” Kason repeated with greed edging into his voice. From the size of her purse and the rattle it made, she had considerably more than that. Six gold coins apiece were more than he and Clyton could make in a year’s worth of trapping and for just one trip! He made a quick decision. “You have a bargain, lady. My friend and I will make all the arrangements. It will take about two days to gather the supplies we will need. Give us two gold coins now to pay for them. When you’re ready for us you can find us here, or leave a message at the bar. Just ask for Clyton or Kason.”

Nodding, Jalene handed over two gold coins and turned her back on the two. Returning to her table, she found her food waiting. The server had once again disappeared from sight. The savory, spicy smell from the stew and hot buttered bread set her mouth watering. She would have to avoid casting spells for several days and build up her strength. She would need it for the trip, and to deal with these two men she had just hired. This thick, meaty stew would be an excellent beginning.

She wasn’t concerned about the men who were back at the bar with their backs turned away from her, talking in quiet, subdued tones. She knew they would keep up their end of the bargain. Their desire for her gold coins would ensure that. She would also keep a watchful eye on them. If two rough characters like these were to disappear, no one would be asking any questions, she was quite sure of that.

It wouldn’t be the first time she had gotten rid of excess garbage. Just the thought brought a slight smile to her face. Disposing of them could be quite enjoyable. She finished her meal, thinking of the many different painful spells she could use. She also reminded herself she needed to be more careful about using her abilities in public. She wasn’t ready for her sorcery to become common knowledge. The clerk wouldn’t say anything, the gold coin she had paid with would ensure that, and the server would be too frightened. No, only Kason and Clyton would have to be silenced, and those two could easily be disposed of.

After her meal, Jalene returned to her room to spend the rest of the evening reading from the two books and the scroll she had taken from the archives. With any luck, they would add to the considerable wealth of information she had already found about the Sylvars and Gilmreth. She felt her plan was falling into place remarkably well. Very soon, everyone would know who she was and would fear doing anything to displease her.

Chapter Four

Several nights later, Lynol was arduously studying in one of the small rooms in the remote end of the house. She and her father had spent the better part of the afternoon cleaning the room and furnishing it. It had been emptied of most of its contents, swept clean, the floor meticulously scrubbed, and the walls washed down. Its single large window could be unshuttered and thrown open to allow fresh air and bright sunlight unhindered into the room during the day.

It now contained a single large study table upon which Malcon’s sorcery book lay open, and a comfortable chair. Several large wooden shelves on one wall reached toward the ceiling, filled with books. A small wood burning stove sat in the corner keeping the room at a pleasant temperature with its yellow flame slowly consuming the small logs inside.

Lynol currently sat at the solitary table, her hands flat on its hard, unyielding surface, staring frustratingly at the small white candle sitting rebelliously before her. The window was closed, keeping out the cool night chill, and an oil lamp was burning brightly on one end of the table. For the last half-hour, she had been trying to light the candle with a sorcery spell that was supposed to bring fire when enacted. All she had accomplished so far was to strain her eyes looking for just the smallest flicker of a spark in the unyielding, defiant candlewick.

Feeling irritated, she looked at the open book and the lines of writing, which described in detail what she was supposed to do. Why is this so hard, she wondered? Were her abilities so weak that she couldn’t even perform one of the most elementary spells described in this wondrous book?

Sighing dejectedly, she took a deep breath and read the writing for the twentieth time, running through the elementary gestures associated with the spell in slow motion. Then, concentrating on the inanimate candle and picturing it burning, she repeated the incantation aloud, tracing the symbol for fire in the air before her. The candle just sat there unsympathetically, its wick not even warm, as it defiantly refused to light.

“This isn’t going to be as easy as I had hoped,” she mumbled to herself, shaking her head.

Brushing back her hair with her left hand, she folded her arms despondently across her chest. What was she to do if the spells just wouldn’t work? Maybe she wasn’t meant to be a sorceress, or if she was, definitely not the one mentioned in the prophecy if she was this incompetent. She had hoped that with Malcon’s book everything would be easier, that she would be able to learn sorcery, but so far, she had failed. Lynol allowed her eyes to roam about the room, feeling crestfallen at her most recent failure.

“Still no luck with the candle, I see,” her father spoke softly with a humorous smile from the open doorway. He had been quietly watching his daughter struggle with the incantation. He knew the frustration she was going through and wished there was more he could do to help.

Lynol looked over at her father and shook her head, not sure what to say. She didn’t want to disappoint him, but the candle wouldn’t light. She had tried everything to get the spell to work. She felt like crying, but managed to hold back the tears.

Damon knew there was very little he could do to help his daughter. Sorcery had been gone from the family for many generations and very little had been passed down as to how to train someone who had the gift of the old Sylvar powers. Reaching into his right pant’s pocket, Damon took out a gift for Lynol, which he had been saving for a special day. He hoped this particular item would aid Lynol in her studies. “Take this; perhaps it will help.”

Walking over, Damon dropped a finely crafted golden chain with a delicately cut dark blue sapphire gemstone hanging from it into her open hand. “This was your mother’s necklace. She wore it constantly and it was her most treasured possession. All sorcerers had an amulet they wore to help them focus their power. Perhaps this stone will help you. Try again using the stone as a focus,” he said encouragingly, remembering how Lynol’s mother had worn the beautiful necklace every day. He couldn’t remember ever seeing her without it.

“This belonged to Mother?” Lynol asked, immensely surprised by the unexpected gift. She had never seen this magnificent necklace before. Her father had never hinted that he still possessed some of her mother’s possessions.

Holding the heavy gold chain and stone out before her, she turned the sapphire over gently in her hand, examining it closely. It was slightly larger than her thumbnail with a delicate, soft inner radiance. A circle of finely inlaid gold surrounded it with gentle designs crafted intricately into the gold. The stone seemed to flicker briefly with a fleeting feeble blue glow when she ran her fingers across it. It actually seemed to warm at her touch; a trick of her imagination she was sure. She had never seen such a beautifully crafted necklace and stone before. It must be priceless. She turned, facing her father with a questioning look upon her incredulous face.

“It’s beautiful,” whispered Lynol, holding the precious stone in her hand.

She wished she had been given the opportunity to know her mother. There were so many things she would have asked her. There was so much about her mother she didn’t know. Her father didn’t speak of Lynol’s mother often; she knew that it brought back many sad memories.

“She wore that necklace constantly. I never saw your mother without it,” Damon spoke, his eyes glistening moistly. “On the day she died, Kathryn asked me to give it to you someday. She was very insistent. I believe that now is the right time.” He could still picture his beautiful wife Kathryn with the necklace around her neck. In his mind, she always had a gentle smile on her face.

Taking the stone and golden chain out of her hand, Damon placed it gently around Lynol’s neck and fastened the simple clasp. “Now, let’s try that spell again!” Damon saw that Lynol looked skeptical. “Focus on the necklace.”

Damon watched expectantly as Lynol held the stone in her left hand and repeated the fire spell, making the fire symbol smoothly with her right. Damon gasped quietly in surprise as a flickering of blue light appeared spectrally about Lynol’s fingertips, connecting barely visible ghostly lines. Lynol’s voice flowed smoothly as she voiced the ancient syllables of the fire incantation. Damon looked at the candle, willing it to light.

Lynol felt a brief flicker of inexplicable heat in her left hand, which held the blue sapphire. Surprised, she opened her hand and stared in astonishment at the stone. The sapphire was glowing softly with an unearthly blue radiance. Concentrating harder, trying to focus on the stone and the candle at the same time, she repeated the spell. She felt a strange tingling in the tips of her fingers and was startled when the candle flared up with a brightly burning two-inch yellow flame. Incredulously, she gazed in amazement at the burning candle and the softly glowing stone in her hand. So, it hadn’t been her imagination!

Did this stone contain some secret that her father wasn’t aware of? Surely not; it had to be just a coincidence! The stone had served merely to help her focus like the writings in the spell book suggested. The softly glowing blue radiance of the stone was only the aftereffect of the spell she had used.

“It worked!” Lynol exclaimed breathlessly, amazed with the ease at which the candle had lit.

She continued to stare at the flickering flame in mute fascination. A feeling of exuberance spread through Lynol as she realized she had actually enacted a spell from the book. She had performed a sorcery spell just as Lys would have done from this very book in the far distant past. Maybe she could learn sorcery after all! Maybe her own self-doubt had been blocking her from tapping her hidden potential to enact these spells. She felt vastly relieved, reveling in her success.

“See, you can do it!” said Damon, smiling broadly and nodding his head. He was amazed at how easily Lynol had caused the candle to light this time after all the struggling she had been going through with the spell earlier. “Remember, the stone is but a focus.” Turning, Damon left the room, shutting the door quietly behind him and leaving Lynol to her studies.

-

Walking down the hall toward the kitchen, Damon felt mystified. He could have sworn he had seen the blue stone on the necklace glowing when Lynol held it. That necklace had been very special to Kathryn. She had never told Damon where she had acquired it, or who had made it for her. He had never seen such a beautifully crafted stone anywhere, not even in the fancy jewelry shops in distant Draydon.

Damon could still remember holding her hand as she died. In some ways, it seemed like only yesterday. Kathryn had removed the necklace from about her neck and placed it carefully in his open hand, instructing him with her dying breath to give it to their daughter some day.

“Make sure Lynol gets this when she is old enough; you will know when she’s ready,” Kathryn had said weakly, squeezing his hand gently with a loving smile on her face. She then closed her eyes, and Damon’s wife was gone. He hoped Kathryn’s necklace would help their daughter.

Sitting down at the kitchen table, Damon closed his eyes and thought about Kathryn and the short, wonderful time they had spent together. A sad and lonely smile spread across his face as the memories came flooding back. After a few moments, Damon stood up and walked over to the large window to gaze out at the flickering stars above the mountains as he became lost in his memories. Kathryn used to love to sit outside on the grass and look up at the stars.

-

Lynol gazed at the beautiful, finely cut sapphire with growing interest. The mysterious blue glow had gradually faded away. Malcon’s book spoke of the need of acquiring a powerful amulet. Her mother’s sapphire would certainly satisfy that requirement. The book explained that the more an amulet was used, the more powerful it became as it attuned itself to the sorcerer or sorceress who possessed it.

Lynol looked speculatively at the burning candle, wondering what other surprises her father might have. Feeling more confident, Lynol enacted the next spell, which was supposed to extinguish the candle. Again, she felt the amulet flicker with warmth and saw it glow with a soft blue radiance. Instead of the candle going out as she expected, all the lamps in the house, including the one on the end of the table, were extinguished inadvertently instead. This left only the dim glow from the burning stove and the flickering candle lighting the room, casting strange shadows everywhere.

She heard her father swear in the kitchen as he bumped loudly into the table in the sudden, unexpected darkness. Lynol flushed, feeling embarrassed as she heard her father stumbling around the darkened kitchen. She could barely suppress a silent chuckle.

“I guess I forgot something,” she said aloud, looking at the spell in the flickering light from the solitary candle and wondering what she had done wrong this time. This would undoubtedly take some getting use to.

Leaning back in her chair, still holding her mother’s amulet, Lynol took a minute to rest. She thought back to the previous day when she had gone to the Gors to see WhiteStar’s new colt. Dresdia had been excited at Lynol coming over and highly ecstatic about the colt.

-

“Lynol, I’m so glad you could come over today,” Dresdia spoke, pleased to see her friend. Dresdia’s long blond hair was pulled back behind her shoulders, and her emerald green eyes shone with an excited light. “Kalvin is busy packing us a lunch to take when we go gather berries. I’m sure he just wants to spend more time with you! After all, he has never volunteered to help us pick berries before. I think Kalvin is quite smitten with you,” she added teasingly with an impish grin on her face, her eyes twinkling.

“I haven’t quite decided how to handle that,” Lynol stammered, her face flushing slightly, walking with Dresdia toward the small barn where she knew the new colt and its mother were. “Kalvin has been acting so strange recently.”

“Mother says it’s hormones,” said Dresdia, giggling. “Anytime I bring up your name, he gets all flustered. She says it’s something all boys go through.”

Reaching the barn the two went inside, and Lynol saw the young colt suckling on its mother. It was dark brown with a white spot on its forehead and looked perfectly formed. The mother stood protectively above the colt, watching Dresdia and Lynol suspiciously. The young colt continued suckling, completely ignoring the intrusion. It was in its own little world, protected from the weather by the barn, his mother at his side, and all he needed to eat. Life couldn’t be any better.

“He’s beautiful,” breathed Lynol. She reached out with her mind, soothing and reassuring the mother. “There are so few colts born anymore and this one looks perfectly healthy.”

“Father says it’s because our land was cleaned of much of the poison from the Worldfire and Gilmreth by the Sylvar sorcerers,” replied Dresdia, reaching out and petting the docile mare gently on the side of her neck. The mare lowered her head, wanting the area behind her ear scratched, which Dresdia did.

“Even with our good land the animals breed so seldom,” said Dresdia, sighing and wishing they had more horses. She loved animals and horses were, by far, her favorite. “Father believes that even the animals have changed over the years. They no longer breed as often as in the past. Someday there might no longer be any horses.”

“No more horses,” Lynol whispered, her eyes wide, hoping that day would never come.

The world they lived in was so harsh and uncompromising. Lynol wondered just how much they had actually lost over the years since the end of the Golden Age. Some of the old books spoke of animals that hadn’t been seen in years. Many species had died out after the Worldfire and from the depredations of Gilmreth.

“Father believes many things have been affected by the ancient Worldfire,” continued Dresdia, gazing warmly at the colt. “This is the first colt we’ve had in several years.”

“What are you going to name him?” Lynol asked curiously, reaching out and gently petting the mother horse along her neck.

“Kalvin wants to name him SwiftWind and I like WhiteStorm, but it may not matter,” Dresdia said with a hint of sad disappointment drifting into her voice. “Addison Tohr has offered father five gold coins for the colt. God knows we could use them if we have another bad winter.”

“Oh no!” Lynol exclaimed with displeasure edging into her voice. She didn’t want to see Addison end up with the colt. “I hope your father doesn’t sell this colt. He would make a great riding horse for you when he grows up!”

“I know,” replied Dresdia, smoothing down the mother’s mane and watching the colt who was now watching her curiously, probably wondering what she was doing to his mother. “I hope father decides to keep the colt. I’m really going to try to talk him into it, and so is Kalvin.”

“Kalvin can be quite persuasive,” replied Lynol, smiling. “Hopefully, between the two of you, your father will change his mind.”

The two girls continued to talk while watching the colt. Dresdia was worried about the noise coming from the mountain. She wanted to know if Lynol had any idea why the mountain was rumbling so much.

“Kalvin says it’s Gilmreth waking up,” said Dresdia, shaking her head and making her blond hair cascade down over her eyes. “Could it really be the dragon?” She swept her hair away from her eyes with her left hand, wishing she had tied it back earlier so it would stay in place.        “I doubt that,” Lynol replied, not wanting to worry or scare her friend with what she suspected.

She had sensed the dragon’s malevolent presence under the mountain the other night. Lynol knew the other sorceress was tampering with Malcon’s sleeping spell, causing the mountain to rumble. She couldn’t tell Dresdia any of this, at least not yet. She knew that Dresdia was terribly frightened of the dragon. She always had been, even in their childhood games in the old barn Dresdia had shown her fear of the dragon on more than one occasion.

Leading Lynol back outside the barn, Dresdia brushed her blond hair away from her emerald green eyes once more. Looking toward the distant mountain that loomed so close, a frown crossed her youthful face. “Even at night the mountain rumbles,” Dresdia complained worriedly, her voice quivering. “We live so close to the mountain, if the dragon still lives and does awake, we could be where it comes hunting first!”

“Gilmreth has slept for nearly one thousand years according to the legends,” responded Lynol, wanting to put Dresdia at ease. She didn’t like to see the distress in the eyes of her closest friend. “After such a long sleep, I doubt the dragon is going to awaken anytime soon. The spell that Malcon placed on Gilmreth was meant to last for a very long time.”

“But the rumbling,” Dresdia continued with concern in her youthful voice, flashing her eyes toward the mountain once more. “When will it stop? I just want it to go away!”

Lynol only shook her head as she continued to try to calm Dresdia’s fears about the dragon. Her efforts were unsuccessful.

-

Later in the afternoon, while they were gathering the sticky red berries in the thick, thorny bushes on the far side of the farm, the subject of the mountain came up again. A distant audible rumble reverberated ominously through the warm air, drawing their attention toward Firestorm Mountain. All three turned to stare at the mountain, berry picking momentarily forgotten.

Dresdia stared with heightened concern at the snow-covered peaks. This frequent rumbling was beginning to scare her; she had even had a few nightmares about the dragon. She wasn’t sleeping well at night and usually had no trouble falling asleep at all. It normally took her mother several attempts to rouse her from bed in the morning, but not recently.

“The rumbling seems to be getting worse daily,” she complained, her red stained hands holding a basket of ripe berries. “What if Gilmreth really is beginning to awake, what would we do?”

“It’s probably only avalanches caused from the melting snow,” Kalvin replied unconvincingly, looking at his sister. He didn’t see how avalanches could be the cause of all the noise coming from the mountain. His father and Damon both said it probably wasn’t Gilmreth, but Kalvin wasn’t so sure.

“If it’s Gilmreth awakening, this may be our last chance to actually explore the mountain,” he ventured, looking at Lynol. “This may be our only opportunity to travel to Firestorm Mountain. We could walk to the base of the mountain in less than half a day,” Kalvin stated, pointing toward the mountain with red berry juice smeared all over his hand. “We could leave early some morning, pack a lunch, and be back by nightfall. We could do some exploring. Who knows what we might find!”

“Why would you want to go to that mountain?” Dresdia asked with her expression showing the faintest hint of disbelief.

“Because if we don’t do it now, we may never get to,” replied Kalvin, looking at his sister.

“You know what father has always told us, the mountain is off limits!” Dresdia replied sternly, placing her full basket of red berries down next to the rapidly growing pile, glaring defiantly at her brother with her hands on her shapely hips. “Besides, Gilmreth lives beneath Firestorm Mountain. I have no desire to go anywhere near that terrible place! Why go there at all? No one goes near that mountain anymore. Kalvin, this is a bad idea. Tell him it’s a bad idea, Lynol.”

“But the dragon is still asleep,” persisted Kalvin, looking from Dresdia to Lynol. “Gilmreth will never know we’re there. The sacrificial altar for Gilmreth is supposed to lie at the base of the mountain,” continued Kalvin, ignoring Dresdia and pointing to an ambiguous dark cleft barely visible in the far distance. “If we could find it, wouldn’t that prove to the villagers that Gilmreth is real and we need to be prepared for his awakening?”

Lynol knew the rumbling currently coming from the mountain wasn’t being caused by Gilmreth or by the other sorceress. She couldn’t sense any spell being used, and Gilmreth wasn’t stirring. It had to be just an avalanche of loose snow, which did occur occasionally this time of the year as the heavy mountain snow packs continued to melt.

“Not even the bravest of the villagers will go near the mountain,” Lynol commented, eyeing the large pile of red berries and wondering how they were going to get them all back home.

This was the best harvest off these bushes that Lynol could ever remember. Maybe she should send Kalvin to have her father bring the cart down. He was beginning to frighten Dresdia with his dragon talk anyway. Lynol couldn’t blame Dresdia for being frightened, the mountain made her nervous also. Particularly since she could sense Gilmreth sleeping beneath, and she knew much of the rumbling from the mountain was being caused by the mysterious sorceress.

“It’s because the ground around the base of the mountain is so dead nothing grows there; that’s why the villagers are afraid,” Kalvin pressed on, reaching for the large canteen of water laying next to the small backpack he had brought and taking a long drink. Then, looking at the girls, he continued. “Father says the mountain was a battleground for sorcerers during the Worldfire, that’s why so little grows there and what does is strangely formed.”

“I don’t know,” Lynol said doubtfully, seeing Dresdia’s uneasy look. She didn’t know if she was prepared to go that close to the mountain and Gilmreth, at least not yet. Nevertheless, she felt a strange sense of excitement at the thought of going to Firestorm Mountain, as if some mysterious inner voice was encouraging her to go.

What if the dragon sensed her presence? Sorcery had imprisoned the dragon there long ago, and Gilmreth might be able to detect it even in his spell-induced sleep. However, she reminded herself, she wasn’t a sorceress yet. Her abilities were so miniscule that the dragon probably wouldn’t be aware of her presence even if she stood right next to him. What if they actually did find something useful? Kalvin was right about waiting. If they waited much longer, it might be too dangerous to go near the mountain.

“Dresdia, would you want to go if Kalvin and I decided to?” asked Lynol, looking at her best friend. “You don’t have to; I don’t want you doing anything you don’t feel comfortable with.”

She and Kalvin had talked for several years now about hiking to the mountain just to say they had done it. They should be safe enough as long as the sleeping spell continued to hold Gilmreth. She was also surprised at how much Kalvin knew about Gilmreth and Firestorm Mountain. She wondered if there were other things he knew that she didn’t.

She knew Kalvin had heard his father and hers discuss Firestorm Mountain and the dragon for years. She understood the importance of learning as much about Gilmreth and his weaknesses as possible if any were to be found. If he had any, she reminded herself worriedly, looking back toward the mountain. If there was any possibility of finding something useful, then Kalvin’s desire to go to the mountain might not be such a bad idea.

Lynol couldn’t believe she was actually considering it. She knew Dresdia didn’t want them to go, and that was weighing heavily on her decision. Dresdia had always been afraid of the mountain and disliked talking about Gilmreth.

“It could be exciting, I guess,” Dresdia replied cautiously, looking at the two.

Dresdia was still frightened by the idea, wishing Lynol would put a stop to Kalvin’s wild plans. She was surprised that Lynol was even considering it. She wanted to be included if Lynol and Kalvin did decide to trek to the mountain. She didn’t want to be left behind.

“Nothing bad will happen,” promised Kalvin, looking at his sister and hoping she would agree. If she didn’t, he wasn’t sure Lynol would be willing to go.

“We couldn’t tell anyone if we do decide to do this,” Dresdia finally said, looking at Lynol. “Our parents would throw a fit if they knew we were even talking about going near that mountain. We could all be grounded forever!”

“Let’s not rush things,” interjected Lynol, raising her own berry stained hand. “I need to think on this, but not now.” It could be dangerous going to the mountain. This was something she didn’t want to rush into. She wanted to consider all the ramifications of their actions, particularly since she knew Dresdia didn’t actually want to go. Lynol decided to change the subject. “Let’s finish getting these berries picked and hauled back home. Kalvin, go to the house and ask my father to bring the two-wheeled cart down. I never dreamed there would be so many; we’re going to have a lot of canning to do!”

-

Opening her eyes, Lynol stared at the brightly burning candle. Kalvin wanted to go to Firestorm Mountain and search for Gilmreth’s sacrificial altar. Just the thought of venturing that close to the dragon’s lair made Lynol feel extremely uneasy, particularly since she didn’t want to endanger her friends. Did she dare pass up this opportunity to learn something more about Gilmreth?

Looking at the burning candle, she clasped her amulet tightly in her hand and concentrated. The candle promptly went out, leaving the room in darkness except for the flickering light from the wood stove. The only other light in the partially darkened room was coming from the faint spectral blue glow of her amulet in her now open hand. Concentrating again, she felt the stone grow warm in her hand and all of the lamps in the house flared back up.

-

Unseen by Lynol, Damon smiled broadly as the lamps magically lit and he could see the kitchen again. Walking over to the wood stove, he placed some hot coals from the fireplace inside, and on top of that he added some wood kindling plus some small split logs. Soon he had a warm, comforting fire going. Sitting back down at the kitchen table, he thought about Lynol’s future. He wondered if there was anything he could do to protect his only daughter. With what she had accomplished tonight there was no doubt in Damon’s mind that sorcery was indeed back in the Sylvar family.

-

In far off Draydon, Jalene frowned and laid the ancient yellowed scroll down carefully on the table. Gilmreth might be much harder to control than she had imagined. The dragon was immensely old, nearly three thousand years if her research was correct. He was one of the last dragons to be created by the ancients and by far the most powerful. If the scroll was accurate, Gilmreth himself had hunted down and killed most of the other dragons which had been set free during the horrors of the Worldfire.

The dragon had searched the entire world, searing the skies free of his own kind as he hunted them down one by one. She hadn’t been prepared for that. Gilmreth could be much stronger and more dangerous than she had ever imagined. The scroll claimed Gilmreth was an uncontrollable rogue dragon! For a moment, she wondered about the path she had set herself on. Shaking her head, she pushed back the self doubt.

Opening the old book of spells, Jalene turned to the tattered page containing the dragon spell, the one that she hoped would give her control of Gilmreth. She had found the book underneath some ancient ruins, in some old collapsing tunnels, which had sheltered a pitiful group of survivors from the Worldfire. Many of the tunnels and small rooms had collapsed, making journeying into them extremely difficult and dangerous. Jalene believed the book had belonged to an ancient sorcerer who had hidden himself amongst a desperate group of refugees. The destitute people had huddled helplessly beneath the quaking ground as the deadly Worldfire consumed the Golden Age above.

Studying the dragon spell, Jalene wondered if it was strong enough to bind Gilmreth to her will and force the dragon to obey her commands. The ancient sorcerers had supposedly been able to control the smaller dragons with this spell. She wondered if any had actually tried to control Gilmreth, being one of the last and most powerful created. Nowhere had she ever found any reference implying the great dragon ever having been controlled by any sorcerer. In addition, the withered scroll seemed to confirm Gilmreth had never been meant to serve one of the powerful sorcerers of the Golden Age. Why those ancient sorcerers had created such a creature was a mystery. If they couldn’t control Gilmreth, why create him?

Going over to her bed, Jalene lay down as her mind dwelled on the dragon. Gilmreth was the key to all of her carefully laid plans. With the dragon under her control, she could forcibly gather many of the remaining people together from their scattered towns and villages. They would be required to do her bidding lest Jalene loose the deadly dragon upon them. She would command them to build a great city with a magnificent temple at its center.

From that temple, she would rule with the threat of Gilmreth to ensure total obedience. She would be worshipped and waited on hand and foot, her every whim obeyed. Her impoverished childhood would be revenged a thousand times over; never again would she be treated with contempt, scorn, and pity. She drew a deep breath, pushing back the horrid encroaching memories of her wretched up bringing A dark scowl covered her face. The dragon was the key to all of her dreams and plans, and she would have him!

If an occasional virgin had to be sacrificed at the temple to keep the dragon appeased than so be it. It would also pay sweetly for her mother being raped and bringing her into a world without forgiveness, a world of pain and misery. She could already envision the intricate ceremony and feast that would accompany each sacrifice. Her breathing quickened and her eyes closed as she thought about her plans.

She would form a special order of priests to oversee the ceremony and help choose qualified candidates for the sacrifice. In her mind, she pictured the people on their knees paying homage to her and the omnipotent dragon, willing to do whatever she commanded. Her power would be absolute, her every word law. She had already planned much of this out; she just needed Gilmreth under her control to set everything into motion, Gilmreth, and one other item she hoped to find inside Firestorm Mountain.

It would be a great honor to be sacrificed to the dragon. The golden city of her dreams would ring out with celebration and feasting after each human sacrifice. The life of the entire city would revolve around her and the dragon. Jalene fell asleep amid dreams of golden towers and white spires reaching up toward the heavens.

-

Early the next morning, Jalene met Clyton and Kason in front of the inn. They had three horses and two pack animals loaded down with supplies and were waiting impatiently for her. The rising sun, still hidden by the towering dark heights of Firestorm Mountain, held Draydon in a dark shadow. The town was quiet, with most of its inhabitants asleep.

“We have everything we need, including some heavy blankets. To reach the far side of the mountain we must use one of the higher passes. At this time of the year it’s pretty cold up on the slopes,” Kason stated uneasily, shuffling his feet on the ground and staring into Jalene’s cold unwavering eyes.

He felt ill at ease about going up on the mountain with this mysterious woman, but the gold coins she offered and the possibility of learning more about her power far outweighed the risk.

“Let’s get going, then,” ordered Jalene, Mounting her horse and riding briskly off down the narrow street, not giving the two men a second glance.

The two looked at each other and then fell in behind her with the trailing pack animals. The animals were Drendals, a strange beast of burden that had appeared shortly after the Worldfire. They were similar to a horse but shorter with longer, coarser hair, and thick, muscular legs. The animals were rare and extremely hard to come by.

Jalene wondered where Clyton and Kason had come up with this pair of Drendals. She suspected they were stolen; probably one of the reasons they had insisted on leaving so early in the morning. That didn’t concern her as long as they had procured everything needed. Finally, she was on her way to Gilmreth’s lair and the prize she hoped waited within!

-

Hours later, Draydon had disappeared far behind them. The rutted road had turned into a rough, seldom-traveled trail as they neared the base of Firestorm Mountain. The main trade road cut through the lower passes and had split off several miles back. The three horses and the trailing pack Drendals plodded along the vague trail, small puffs of dry dust swirling around their shod hooves. The sun stood near its zenith, quickly heating the stifling afternoon air. There was no breeze at all, and it was eerily quiet. This close to the mountain the days turned warm quickly, with the nights becoming frightfully cold.

Looking up at the looming cliffs and snow-covered peaks, Jalene realized just how hard the trip ahead of them was going to be. She hoped the lucrative reward at its end would be worth the strenuous effort. She knew she would have to keep a careful eye on her two companions. Her well-being, she suspected, was not at the top of their agenda. Of course, theirs wasn’t at the top of hers either once she was through with them.

“There are some pretty strange animals that live on the slopes of this mountain,” muttered Kason, spitting on the ground, his horse standing next to Jalene’s, staring at the mountain with disdain. “Parts of the mountain are still badly poisoned from the Worldfire, and animals that live there have offspring that are often malformed. Some aren’t even recognizable as to what beast sired them. That’s what makes their hides so valuable in Draydon; many are one of a kind.”

“If we run into one, you will be very glad you brought us along,” added Clyton, patting the dangerous looking hunting knife attached to his wide leather belt.

“I can protect myself if necessary,” Jalene replied coldly, kicking her horse in the side and continuing on up the trail.

They continued on the narrow, rocky trail that slowly wound its way up the steep slope of the mountain. “Don’t forget the other night,” she warned menacingly, looking back at the two men who were slightly behind her. “That was only a small demonstration of my power.” She wanted to remind them who was in charge.

Silence fell as the three continued along the trail, each lost in his or her own private thoughts. Their horses’ hooves clattered against the stones and hard rock. Clyton and Kason both stole occasional greedy glances at the captivating pouch attached to Jalene’s waist, which contained the precious gold coins. What they could do with those, and where had this woman gotten all those gold coins to begin with?

Both knew that, on a trip like this to Firestorm Mountain, more than one person had failed to return. If there was an accident and the coins were to end up in their fortunate hands well, everyone knew the mountain was extremely dangerous. The men looked at one another meaningfully, knowing what the other was thinking. Perhaps this woman wasn’t nearly as powerful as she claimed.

Jalene was well aware of the occasional furtive glances cast at her coin pouch from the two men. There was no doubt, from the frequent looks they gave her and the quiet whispers between the two, that her continued good health wasn’t their ultimate goal. She doubted the two men would try anything before they found the cave. Both were insatiably curious about what the mysterious cave contained, something she would make sure they never found out. What was in the cave Jalene meant to possess and no one else would be allowed near it!

She had been very evasive whenever they asked questions about this trip to the cave and what she hoped to find. Once there, she would no longer need their feeble assistance. They would be the ones who would suddenly find themselves expendable. It wouldn’t be the first time, or the last, that she had used men to accomplish her goals and brutally discarded them. With a hidden, malicious smile, she looked forward to that moment. She would see how brave these two fools acted in the face of impending death.

As they climbed, the trail became rougher and wound around large boulders, stunted trees, and bushes. The air began to take on a chill as they went higher up on the mountain until Jalene was forced to put on a light jacket. She glanced around at the rough mountainside about them; only the barely visible trail allowed them to continue to climb. Steep cliffs, massive boulders, and loose rocks would prevent climbing anywhere else. Occasional tufts of pale yellow grass edged up between the rocks where a wayward seed had found fertile soil and precariously taken root. Other than that, everything looked dead and bleak.

“We’ll make camp up ahead,” ventured Kason, reining up beside Jalene and pointing toward a flat area farther up the rocky slope. Several large green trees were visible where he pointed.

“Why there?” Jalene asked sharply and a little suspiciously. The trees were the first she had seen in awhile.

“The plants and trees in that area look normal and are free from the Worldfire ground poison. We have camped there before, and it should be safe,” Kason replied. “There’s also a small spring where we can water the horses. It would be best if we spent the night there before continuing. We’ve made considerable progress today and late tomorrow we should reach the pass that crosses to the far side. We’ll camp at its entrance before venturing into the pass itself, which is extremely rough and difficult and shall take most of the daylight hours to cross. At this time of the year, there may still be some deep snow in parts of it.”

“Very well,” replied Jalene, feeling her body aching from today’s exertion. She had a potion she had mixed before they left using a weak sorcery spell, which would help her recover during the night, though she knew she would pay for it later. The power always took its toll, it gave nothing freely.

-

Lynol finished another strenuous night of studies, practicing the lessons Malcon’s thick book had guided her slowly and methodically through. She could now light candles with a quick thought and a gesture. She had discovered that incantations were only necessary on occasion. They merely served to strengthen the spell. She read that in order not to feel worn out the next morning to eat some fresh fruit immediately after each session.

Reaching out confidently with her mind, she felt for and found the old rooster sleeping in the hen house. With some gentle prodding, she heard him crow loudly, voicing his ire at being disturbed from his peaceful night’s slumber amongst the hens. With a satisfied smile, she released the rooster and settled back.

Lynol could now cast simple spells without touching the amulet, which lay reassuringly between her breasts. She could feel its comforting warmth whenever she worked her sorcery, and on harder spells, if she held it, the amulet did seem to help her focus better. Getting up, she moved her fingers in a complicated gesture, putting the candle and lamp out.

Lynol walked down the short hall to the kitchen where her father sat staring out the kitchen window toward darkness-shrouded Firestorm Mountain, a warming fire burning in the old wood stove. An unearthly silence held sway, at least for tonight, over the dark, malevolent mountain.

“Lynol, how did your studying go tonight? Are you learning more spells from Malcon’s book?” asked Damon, turning away from the window and wondering if Lynol had anything to do with that crazy old rooster crowing well after dark. From what he could tell, his daughter seemed to be growing more confident in her abilities as she studied the sorcery book.

“Fine, Father,” Lynol replied wearily, taking a seat next to him and choosing a piece of fruit out of the basket that was always present on the kitchen table. It was another benefit of living on the best producing farm in their community. Their fruit trees normally bore an over abundance of fruit. “It’s much more tiring than what I expected.  I can hardly imagine what the harder spells might do. I've just barely gone through the first few pages in the book. There’s so much to learn.” Lynol took a small bite out of the red, juicy apple, enjoying the sweet, tart taste in her mouth while reflecting over what she had learned tonight.

“Yes, you have a lot to learn, with little that I can do to help,” Damon replied, wishing he could do more. He was just thankful they at least had the sorcery book. “If only we knew how much time we have before Gilmreth awakens. It could be months or it could be years.”

Damon feverishly hoped that it would be years. It would take time for Lynol’s abilities to grow and for her to learn how to use them properly. If Gilmreth awoke too soon, he knew there would be nothing they could do.

“Or it may not be in our lifetime,” Lynol reminded him, taking another small, delicate bite out of the juicy, red apple she held. “We can’t be certain that Gilmreth is awakening, or that I’m the sorceress of the prophecies.”

Lynol still felt very uneasy about what her future might hold. She knew all the signs pointed to her being that sorceress, but she was having a hard time accepting it and all its dangerous ramifications. In between practicing the few simple spells she had learned, she spent a lot of time wondering about her future.

Damon was silent, watching Lynol. He knew in his heart that Lynol was the Sylvar sorceress of the prophecies. There were things about the prophecies he hadn’t told Lynol lest he frighten her too much. He knew from the highly detailed description of unfolding events that Lynol was indeed the sorceress mentioned.

“There is naught that we can do but wait,” said Lynol, trying to sound more confident than she felt. She knew how worried her father was. She couldn’t hide the fact that she was extremely concerned about the implications her abilities implied also. “I’m going to take a walk down to the garden to get some fresh air, would you like to join me?”

“I’ve had a long day, and I have to work the lower meadow tomorrow to prepare for the next hay cutting,” replied Damon, standing up and yawning, feeling more tired from worry than actual work. “You go ahead, I’ll see you in the morning; just don’t stay up too late.” Walking away from the table, Damon went down the long hallway and turned into his bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Lynol got up and walked out onto the porch, drawing in a deep breath of the cool, fresh night air. Looking up, she saw a thin crescent moon shining wanly down on the quiet countryside. Only the sporadic chirping of crickets disturbed the peaceful night.

Stepping off the porch, she walked slowly down to the garden. After pausing briefly, she went on to come to a stop in front of the waiting Sylvar Stone. The massive stone and handprint were just barely visible in the weak moonlight. Hesitatingly, she reached out her hand toward the imprint and then stopped, unsure of herself. Remembering what had happened the previous time, just the thought of touching the stone made her apprehensive. She stood there for a moment, staring at the stone, and feeling indecisive.

“What am I afraid of?” Lynol chided herself, feeling foolish. “The stone didn’t harm me before.”

Fortifying herself, she placed her hand firmly upon Malcon’s handprint. Instantly, a tingling sensation raced up her arm. The amulet between her breasts blazed up, responding to the sudden flow of power from the stone. Amazed, Lynol stood there transfixed with her hand on the imprint as the entire stone became surrounded by an eerie blue radiance.

The vision of a tall, handsome, older man suddenly formed clearly in her mind. He was dressed in a light blue robe with the ages old symbol of the house of Sylvar, a dragon spewing fire, upon his cape. His light blue eyes and thick blond hair spoke of immense inner strength and wisdom beyond his years. She hadn’t expected to experience another vision by touching the stone, or for it to react so suddenly to her touch.

“Two months from tonight when the moon is full, you must stand before this very stone with your hand upon the imprint,” the vision said in a clear, powerful, flowing voice. “Speak the name Malcon Sylvar and that which you seek will be found. The time of the final prophecy is nearing.”

The vision faded. Realizing she had closed her eyes, Lynol opened them. The stone was again cold to her touch and the blue radiance was gone, leaving her standing in darkness. Her amulet still felt warm beneath her shirt. She removed her hand from the handprint.

“That which I seek will be found,” she repeated, still in a daze, folding her arms protectively over her breasts and gazing at the darkened stone in confusion. “What can that mean?” In addition, what was the reference to the final prophecy?

For a long moment Lynol stood, staring transfixed at the darkened stone, wondering what mysteries it held, and fearing its implications. Did the stone hide some mysterious power that might be able to help her against Gilmreth, or did it hide a warning about her impending doom if she ever had to face the dragon? Had her newfound knowledge of sorcery from Malcon’s book caused this second reaction from the stone?

Feeling weariness nearly overwhelm her, Lynol turned and trudged slowly back to the house. She felt weak in both mind and body. Her thoughts seemed clouded, and her mind filled with doubt. The vision had been so strong and draining that she collapsed on her bed still clad in her clothes. As she drifted toward sleep, she wondered just what the apparition had meant when it mentioned the final prophecy. She was soon sound asleep and as she slept, her dreams turned toward Gilmreth and the fate that awaited her in a now very cloudy future.

-

For the next several days, Lynol busied herself on the farm. Dresdia finally came over and they canned all the berries they had gathered. When they were through, both girls were covered in sticky red berry juice, but they had nearly six-dozen small jars of preserved jelly.

“We can trade half of these in Galvin,” Lynol said, pleased with all the extra jars of jelly they had. Their canning efforts would bring them a good price at the general store.

“This is the most we have ever done,” commented Dresdia, nodding her head and looking at all the jars of jelly they had. “Gwen will be pleased with us bringing these extra ones to her.”

“Did you have anything in mind you would like to get?” Lynol asked Dresdia, her eyes sparkling.

The two girls always split the profits from their canning evenly. In addition, some shopping at the Mystol’s store would be a lot of fun. Lynol knew that Gwen would love to see the two of them.

“I don’t know,” replied Dresdia thoughtfully, wiping red berry juice off her cheeks. She had her hair pulled back in a ponytail. “Mother would probably like me to get a good bolt of cloth for her to make some new clothes. Lately, I’m growing out of everything it seems.”

“I know just what you mean,” replied Lynol, looking down at her own clothes which fit rather snugly around her hips and breasts. “Let’s go down to the pond in the meadow and go swimming,” suggested Lynol, wanting to get the sticky berry juice off.

It was a warm day and using the wood cook stove to make the jelly had really warmed up the kitchen, even with the door and windows open. A nice, refreshing swim sounded enticing to Lynol.

“Good idea,” Dresdia replied enthusiastically, not really wanting to walk home covered in red berry juice in the hot afternoon sun. “Swimming sounds great!”

The sticky stuff was hard to get off anyway. The small pond was in a secluded spot at the edge of the meadow and was spring fed and surrounded by tall trees, which made it refreshing and clean. Dresdia loved to go swimming in its crystal clear water with Lynol. “Kalvin would die laughing if he could see us now.” Looking at how much of the red stain from the berry juice covered both of them she giggled, smiling at Lynol.

“I’m sure he would,” Lynol replied with a gentle smile. “Kalvin never misses a chance to make fun of us.”

An hour later, the two girls were frolicking in the clear spring water, splashing each other with their youthful laughter echoing through the lower meadow.

“Kalvin still wants to go to Firestorm Mountain,” ventured Dresdia, standing in water that just came to the top of her firm, youthful breasts. “The idea still frightens me. I don’t know if we should go anywhere near that dreadful mountain.”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” replied Lynol, turning to float face up in the water.

She had given the matter a great deal of thought. She had a strange feeling that it was extremely important to make this journey to the mountain. They might never have this opportunity again. If Gilmreth was to awake before she was ready it would be far too dangerous to travel anywhere near the vicinity of the mountain, even their homes might become unsafe.

“It would allow us to spend the entire day together. I doubt if anything is there after so much time. If we go, we need to be careful that no one finds out. Your parents and my father would be highly upset with us,” Lynol said.

Lynol didn’t like the idea of not telling her father, but she knew that if she did he would never allow them to go. For some reason, she felt it was important they make this trip. She didn’t know if it was her newfound abilities causing this or some other inner sense.

“That’s a certainty.” Dresdia replied somberly, knowing how upset her mother and father would be if they found out. “I just don’t feel right doing something our parents would object to.”

The thought of going to the mountain still made her immensely uneasy. However, if Lynol was willing to go, then she guessed it would be all right. It would allow them to spend the day together. Besides, if they were very careful, what real harm could it cause?

“Hi girls,” a youthful masculine voice yelled suddenly from the edge of the pond.

Kalvin came around a large tree and froze spellbound at seeing Lynol’s exposed nude body floating enticingly in the water. Lynol lay exposed, her peach-sized breasts plainly visible above the surface. He drank in the captivating view, feeling his face grow uncontrollably warm. He felt frozen, unable to take his eyes off Lynol. He didn’t know what to say or what to do.

“Kalvin!” screamed Lynol, feeling embarrassed and flustered at her exposure, diving under the water to come back up safely behind Dresdia.

She folded her arms protectively over her exposed breasts, feeling her face and everything else turn a beet red. She couldn’t believe he had snuck up on them this way. She felt so embarrassed!

“Kalvin, you know better than to sneak up on us!” Dresdia scolded, irritated at her brother for embarrassing Lynol. “What are you doing here anyway? You’re supposed to be helping father repair the fence in the hay pasture.”

“I was, but we got through early and I wanted to come over to go swimming to cool off,” he replied, crestfallen, feeling guilty and defensive.

He hoped Lynol wasn’t too upset with him, even though he knew she was. He could tell by the upset and aggravated look on her face. “I heard your voices, but I didn’t know you were swimming nude until I came around the big tree. Anyway, our parents are going to Galvin early in the morning to visit the Mystols, and they won’t be back until late in the evening. I thought it might be a good opportunity for us to go to Firestorm Mountain.”

He could tell by the glaring flushed look, which Lynol was still giving him that he was in deep trouble. Damn, he thought, I should have looked first before yelling! I could have turned around and gotten safely away without either of the girls being the wiser. He knew that his sister would make him pay for embarrassing Lynol, and who knows what Lynol would expect out of him to make up for this. He knew he was in a lot of trouble with them.

“Turn your back for a moment,” Lynol ordered threateningly, her face still a bright scarlet, the heated blush running down to the swell of her breasts. “Next time you get the urge to go swimming, Kalvin, start hollering a little sooner,” she admonished, it was all she could do just to face Kalvin.

Kalvin turned around obediently as the two girls hurried out of the water, drying off and putting their clothes quickly back on. Satisfied they looked decent, Lynol told Kalvin he could turn back around.

“Father’s going to be putting up hay tomorrow. I could tell him I’m going over to your place for the day,” Lynol said hesitantly, wondering if they were doing the right thing.

That inner voice was still encouraging her to go to the mountain. She wondered if it was the hidden abilities she possessed doing the urging. Was there something drawing her to Firestorm Mountain? Something she was supposed to find? There was so much about her powers she just didn’t understand. The more she learned, the more she became confused.

“I guess we’re going to Firestorm Mountain,” Dresdia reluctantly acquiesced. “I just hope we won’t regret it later.” She could tell that Kalvin and Lynol had already made up their minds. Even though she still felt hesitant about going, she wasn’t going to be left behind.

“I will pack some food and hiking supplies,” Kalvin went on, his face glowing with excitement. “I can have everything ready by first light. We can meet here at the pond.” Kalvin, his eyes wide, looked at Lynol, hoping for approval of his plan.

Lynol looked at him and nodded. Dresdia just stood between the two, frowning.

“All right, Kalvin,” replied Lynol, deciding to take the risk. “Let’s just hope we don’t get into too much trouble over this. Come on, Dresdia, I’ll walk you part of the way back home.”

With that, the two girls left. Kalvin watched them disappear into the trees. When the girls were safely out of sight, he shrugged out of his clothes and dove into the water head first. Kalvin sputtered and shivered in the cool water as he rose to the surface and stood relaxing in water nearly up to his chin. After working in the heat all day, the pond felt great!

He couldn’t get the enticing sight of Lynol’s nude body floating so captivatingly in the water out of his mind. God, she was beautiful! A sudden giggle behind him caused Kalvin to quickly turn and look back toward the shore. The two girls were standing on the bank with his clothes clutched firmly in their hands, mischievous smiles on their faces.

“This will teach you to sneak up on us,” said Lynol impishly with a teasing grin. Lynol giggled and stepped forward toward Kalvin, stopping at the water’s edge. “Maybe we should stay here and wait for you to come out of the water. After all, you can’t stay in there all day.” Lynol continued giggling at the surprised and concerned look that suddenly appeared on Kalvin’s stunned face.

Kalvin stepped cautiously backwards into deeper water, eyeing the two girls and wondering what he could do to extricate himself out of this mess. “You could come back in,” Kalvin replied challengingly, his eyes coming to a stop on the swell of Lynol’s breasts with a grinning leer that he couldn’t help, knowing that he was only getting into deeper trouble.

“No way, Kalvin,” interjected Dresdia, holding some of Kalvin’s clothes in her left hand. “You’ve seen more than enough for today! If you want these, they will be on the porch back home.” With that, the two girls turned and bounded through the trees to disappear quickly from sight, their carefree giggles fading in the distance.

Kalvin stood taken aback in the water. It was nearly a mile home. He would have to sneak up to the back porch making sure his mother didn’t see him through the kitchen window. If she did, he would have a lot of explaining to do. Oh well, he thought, turning on his back and using a backstroke to move easily across the water. I guess I asked for it.

Chapter Five

Lynol was up early the following morning. She stepped out onto the porch, shutting the door quietly so as not to wake her father. It would still be several more hours before he got up to begin the day’s chores. She had a small pack nestled comfortably on her back for the day's planned adventure.

It was just moments before dawn with the sun just about to peek over the distant softly glowing horizon. The early morning air held a slight chill. The sky was a soft pink and gentle purple, and a few of the brighter stars were still visible. A low, white mist clung close to the ground in the distant meadows. Firestorm Mountain beckoned peacefully in the distance. Lynol took a deep fortifying breath as she gazed at the mountain. No point delaying this any longer, she thought.

Going down the steps from the porch, Lynol was soon walking briskly down the narrow path toward the rendezvous site at the pond. Birds sang in nearby pines, and the crisp mountain air carried the refreshing smell of the nearby water. Lynol had told her father the night before that Dresdia, Kalvin, and she had plans for the entire day. Damon had only nodded, telling Lynol to be careful and to be back before dark. She felt guilty about misleading her father, but she knew that he would be very worried if he knew what her actual plans were.

She still wasn’t sure why she had let Kalvin talk her into this hair-brained idea. She just had an unexplained feeling that she needed to go to the mountain. Even though it was Kalvin’s idea, she knew that, at some point in time, she would have done it anyway. At least this way she wasn’t going alone. She just hoped she wasn’t placing herself and her best friends in any type of imminent danger.

Shaking off her concerns, Lynol thought about the lessons she had practiced the night before. She had been working extremely hard at mastering some of the spells in the sorcery book. Many of her lessons consisted of nothing more than learning how to concentrate and focusing her mind on the task at hand. The early sections of the book spent a lot of time on stressing the importance of being able to focus her mind and thoughts clearly.

So far she had only managed to master a few of the simpler spells. As thick as the book was and as complicated as the later spells in the book were, Lynol knew it would be years before she even made a dent in what the book contained. Of course, she had only had the book for a few days.

Lynol wished she had someone who could teach her. There were times when she wasn’t quite sure what the instructions wanted. She just had to try and then repeat the spell again until she got it right. Another sorcerer who could make sense of all this, to guide her through her studies, and answer some of her many questions would be a God send, but she knew that hope was non-existent. The only other sorcerer she knew of was the evil one across the mountains, the one she felt was trying to disturb Gilmreth. No, she would have to learn this on her own. It might be slow, aggravating, and even tedious at times, but there was no other way.

Lynol felt nervous and apprehensive about going to search for the sacrificial altar at the base of Firestorm Mountain. She had never been in such close proximity to the mountain as she would be today and what she knew slept malevolently beneath it.

The sluggishly rising sun was just peeking over the distant horizon casting a pale, luminous glow upon the mountaintops. Much of the land was still encompassed by the fading darkness that was rapidly losing its battle with the increasing light. Lynol adjusted the twin straps on her backpack slightly, wriggling her shoulders until it felt more comfortable.

Her thoughts turned towards the day’s planned journey. Assuming they could even find the altar, they knew where it was supposed to be, or at least Kalvin claimed he did, but whether anything was still there after all this time was questionable. After nearly one thousand years what could possibly have survived? Surely rain and the elements would have long since erased any traces of ancient artifacts. Lynol knew that it was doubtful they could even find the place. She had never heard it mentioned by anyone other than her father and Kalvin.

“Why am I doing this?” she asked herself quietly as she walked through the dew-covered grass in the meadow. She knew part of it was curiosity and the desire to spend the day with her friends, but there was an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach, which seemed to be coaxing her toward the mountain.

“I can’t believe we’re going,” Lynol murmured aloud, seeing the canopy of green trees in the distance, which marked the outskirts of the pond. “If father ever finds out I will be in all kinds of trouble.” That really worried Lynol. She was very close to her father, and it seemed that recently she was keeping too many secrets from him.

As she walked, Lynol pondered over the spells she had been practicing for the last several nights. In the distance, she could hear a small calf hollering for its mother, and a scattering of early morning birds crying out sharply as the sun rose slowly above the distant horizon. Lighting candles and lamps she could do almost nonchalantly now that she had learned to focus better using the amulet her father had entrusted her.

Touching her thick sweater absently with her hand, Lynol could feel the amulet resting securely between her breasts. She felt a warm, comforting glow inside at the remembrance of the special person to whom it had belonged. The necklace was the only thing she possessed that had belonged to her mother.

Arriving at the pond, she found Kalvin and Dresdia dressed in hiking clothes waiting impatiently for her. Dresdia had a small pack similar to Lynol’s, and Kalvin had a long, wicked looking hunting knife strapped to his waist. He also had a large pack setting at his feet containing whatever he had decided they might need for the day.

“Lynol, we were beginning to think you weren’t going to come,” said Dresdia, rushing up, looking excited, and giving Lynol a swift, comforting hug, her face tinged pink in the cool morning air.

“I see you found your clothes,” commented Lynol, looking at Kalvin with a straight face, recalling their antics from the day before and still feeling slightly embarrassed that Kalvin had seen her so exposed. She would definitely be careful about swimming in the nude in the future.

“At least I was covered up by the water and not on display,” countered Kalvin, recalling the previous day with a mischievous grin.

He still couldn’t get the captivating mental picture of Lynol floating totally naked in the small pond out of his mind. She was just as beautiful as he had imagined, as the tantalizing memory played across his mind once more, causing him to breathe a little heavier.

“Kalvin, behave!” spoke Dresdia, feeling exasperated at her brother, guessing at what he was thinking. Mother was certainly right about his hormones, they were totally out of control!

Lynol felt her face redden with embarrassment, realizing she wouldn’t be able to come out on top in this conversation. Turning to Dresdia, she asked. “Are you positive you want to do this? No one from our village has gone near this section of the mountain for a very long time. You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

“I’m sure,” Dresdia replied, tentatively, then with growing enthusiasm. “It’ll be exciting and different. Besides, what harm can it do? Nothing lives there, and hardly anything grows that close to the mountain. We’re not actually going up high on the mountain itself. This sacrificial altar that Kalvin keeps talking about is supposedly on the lower slopes.”

“Just what do you know about this sacrificial altar?” Lynol asked, curiously, looking at Kalvin with her light blue eyes.

“Father said the villagers used to bring specially chosen young people to the altar to be sacrificed to Gilmreth,” Kalvin replied slowly. “This supposedly went on for years until it ended when Malcon Sylvar put Gilmreth to sleep in his lair.”

“It was virgin girls that were sacrificed,” corrected Lynol, recalling her father’s stories from several nights previously. “But I have never heard where this altar might be, my father never mentioned its location.”

“Virgin girls were sacrificed at this altar!” Dresdia exclaimed, her emerald green eyes flashing with disbelief. “This just gets worse all the time. Are you two sure this is safe? Are we actually sure we want to do this?”

“Don’t worry, sis,” replied Kalvin, feeling annoyed at his sister. It had been hard enough to talk her into this to begin with. “We will be quite safe; there’s nothing there that can harm us. All this happened nearly a thousand years ago. Besides, it’s a good excuse to spend the day together and who knows, we just might find something interesting.”

“Maybe,” Dresdia replied with obvious doubt in her voice. She knew what they were doing was wrong. Their parents, particularly their father, had always warned them to stay away from the mountain.

“If it looks dangerous, we’ll turn around,” spoke Lynol, reassuring Dresdia. She hoped that her fledgling powers would warn her of any impending danger. She should be able to keep all three of them safe. If she sensed any danger, she would insist they turn around and come home.

“Let’s go,” said Kalvin, picking up his large pack and sliding it easily over his shoulders, watching the two girls impatiently and wanting to be off before they changed their minds. “We have a long morning ahead of us, especially if we have to spend part of the day searching for the sacrificial altar.”

Turning, he headed down the grassy path that led to the far boundary of the lush green Sylvar meadow in the direction of Firestorm Mountain, taking point. He was afraid if he waited much longer the two girls might talk themselves out of this trip.

Lynol and Dresdia fell in behind him, chattering about how nice the morning was and glad they had dressed warmly for the early morning chill. If Kalvin wanted to play the adventurous muscular trail breaker, that was fine with them.

-

For hours, the three walked briskly toward the towering mountain, with Kalvin setting a rapid pace as he pushed the two girls wanting to get there as quickly as possible. The path had long since vanished, the grassy pasture giving way gradually to a sparse, more desolate countryside. Once past the Gor and Sylvar farms, the land had taken a quick turn for the worse. The lush plant growth vanished, to be replaced by other less worthy vegetation. The dry countryside stretched away to the very slopes of Firestorm Mountain. The morning wind blew swirls of dust and occasional wayward tumbleweeds across their path.

“The ground looks so dead,” commented Dresdia, looking around despondently at the desolate countryside surrounding them. She could see very few living plants and she hadn’t seen a bird in over an hour. “Even the animals and birds stay away.”

It’s the result of the Worldfire poison and Gilmreth,” replied Kalvin, looking grimly around at the sparse plants and the few trees that were visible. He estimated they had only traveled about five miles from the boundaries of the Gor and Sylvar farms and it was hard to believe how quickly the landscape had changed. This was much closer than he had ever been to Firestorm Mountain. “There’s nothing here for the animals to eat.”

“Is it safe for us to be here if the ground is poisoned?” Dresdia asked, concerned, looking around at the dead soil. “I don’t want us to become sick or anything.”

“It’s safe,” Kalvin replied briskly, trying to keep the uncertainty out of his own voice. He didn’t like the look of the countryside either.

Lynol brushed a strand of brown hair back from her eyes and turned her attention to the forsaken countryside around them. The occasional tufts of thin yellow grass and the few clumps of brush and scrawny trees that grew in isolated pockets were strong reminders of just where they were. The trees looked stunted and were an unhealthy color, barely eking out their meager existence in the arid and denuded soil. Small hills rose around them, marking the beginning outskirts of Firestorm Mountain; stones and a few larger boulders dotted the desolate landscape. Up ahead the mountain towered above them, its snow covered summit almost too bright to look at in the dazzling midmorning sunlight. Shading her eyes, Lynol stared up quizzically toward the mountain.

“Are you sure you know where we’re going, Kalvin?” asked Lynol, scanning the slope of the mountain up ahead. So far, their walk had almost been pleasant. Dresdia and she had been talking the entire time. “We’re not going to have a lot of time once we get there before we have to start back for home.”

“That cleft up ahead, which cuts into the base of the mountain, is where the sacrificial altar is supposed to have been,” stated Kalvin, pointing toward what looked like a small canyon. Coming to a stop, he peered long and hard at the shadowy V-shaped passage that cut deep into the mountain lying up slope several miles away. “That’s what I’ve heard from the stories father told me. I hope the altar won’t be too difficult to locate.”

“It’s been a long time since anyone has come this way, Kalvin,” replied Lynol, placing her hands on her shapely hips and gazing at where Kalvin pointed. She could see the V shape in the side of the mountain. It didn’t look as if it was much farther. She was surprised that Kalvin actually had a good idea of where to look. She had thought they would probably spend a few hours walking along the lower slopes and after not finding anything, turn around and go back home. “The wind and the rain could easily have erased all evidence of the altar. We shouldn’t get our hopes up too much for finding anything.”

“Lynol is right, Kalvin,” added Dresdia, raising her canteen to her thirsty lips and taking a small drink. “There may be nothing to find. We could have spent the day swimming at the pond and relaxing!”

“I don’t know about that,” Lynol murmured quietly, recalling the embarrassing episode from the previous day. It might be awhile before she was ready to go swimming with Kalvin.

“Perhaps not,” replied Kalvin, frowning but not hearing Lynol’s quiet comment. He hoped inwardly that the girls were wrong, ignoring his sister’s comment about swimming. “But the only way we can know for sure is to go there and look. We’ve come this far, we might as well go and check it out.”

“At least the mountain isn’t rumbling today,” said Dresdia, gazing pensively at Firestorm Mountain and its snow covered summit.

There was no way she would have walked to the slopes of the mountain if it had been. The recent rumbling had been making her feel extremely uneasy. Add that to the recent nightmares she had been having about the dragon and it had been all she could do to come on this trip.

“The mountain has been quiet for several days now,” replied Kalvin, nodding his head slightly. He was also relieved that the mountain had been quiet. If it hadn’t been, he doubted he would have been able to talk the girls into this little adventure. “Perhaps it was only avalanches from the melting snow causing the rumbling. They’re pretty common this time of year.”

“Not that common,” replied Dresdia, shaking her head slightly. “I have never heard the mountain rumble this much before. It has to be the dragon!”

Lynol had also wondered about the sudden quietness of the mountain. What was the other sorceress up to? She had an ominous intuitive feeling that something terrible was about to happen. The other sorceress seemed suddenly to have disappeared. “Yes, it was probably only avalanches,” Lynol commented, agreeing with Kalvin and wanting to calm any fears Dresdia had. “It can’t be Gilmreth; he’s still sound asleep under the mountain.”

“I hope so,” responded Dresdia, hoping Lynol was right. Her gaze shifted to the mountain, wondering just where Gilmreth’s lair was and how close they were to the dragon.

-

The three continued to walk steadily toward the cleft, taking occasional short breaks at the insistence of Dresdia. As the morning sun rose steadily higher, the land and small hills began to rise rapidly about them as they walked westward.

“It’s getting warm, Kalvin; turn your back, I want to change into a lighter shirt,” instructed Dresdia, taking her small pack off and undoing the protective straps.

“Good idea, Dresdia,” Lynol said, also feeling the heat. “Don’t even think about sneaking a peek, Kalvin; you saw more than enough yesterday!” she added threateningly.

“I can’t seem to remember a thing,” replied Kalvin, trying not to grin and turning obediently around to face away from the two girls. “At least not too much,” he added, smiling broadly to himself.

“Well, you shouldn’t have looked,” stammered Lynol, her face flushing. “Perhaps yesterday wasn’t an accident; maybe you were peeking!”

“It was an accident!” protested Kalvin, realizing he was on dangerous grounds once again and Lynol wasn’t going to ease up on him. “It’s your fault for swimming in the nude, anyway. You and Dresdia should have been wearing your swimming suits!”

“You were supposed to have been working,” Dresdia reminded him with a slight hint of aggravation in her voice. “We definitely didn’t expect you to come sneaking around!”

“I wasn’t sneaking!” Kalvin replied quickly, trying to defend his actions. “We just got finished early and I wanted to cool off, that’s all; I swear!”

Lynol kept a careful watch on Kalvin to make sure he didn’t turn back around. She had packed some lighter clothes just in case the day warmed up as it often did this time of year. Hurriedly slipping out of her sweater, she pulled on a lighter shirt. Then, rearranging her pack, she pulled it back on over her shoulders. With the lighter clothing on she felt much more comfortable.

“All right, Kalvin, let’s go,” Dresdia said, satisfied. “You had better quit teasing Lynol about yesterday or I will make you pay dearly for it. If I remember correctly, you didn’t bring a swimming suit either!”

“All right you two; let’s get going before it gets too late. We still have a ways to go,” interjected Lynol, wanting to change the subject of the conversation.

Nodding, Kalvin started walking toward the mountain, his sister’s threat hanging at the back of his mind. Dresdia had a way of getting him into trouble at home with unbelievable ease. He knew he had better watch himself. He had no desire to be on the receiving end of his sister’s wrath.

After walking through some more small hills, they found the shadowy cleft growing steadily closer. The countryside became rockier, and the ground began to slope gradually upward. They stopped for another break, looking at the rough countryside around them.

Dresdia groaned and sat down on a small boulder. She was already feeling tired from the long walk. She took another long drink from her canteen. “We could turn around now and go back home. I’m really getting tired, Kalvin.”

“We’re almost there,” replied Kalvin, knowing how his younger sister was feeling. The walk had been more strenuous than he had expected, but he wasn’t going to admit that to the two girls. “It won’t take us much longer.”

“Well if it does, you may have to carry me back home,” moaned Dresdia threateningly as she eased her small pack off her back.

“Let’s just rest for a few minutes,” Lynol suggested, also feeling the effects of the long morning walk. “We’re all a little exhausted; we just need to rest and then we can go on.”

Lynol sat down on a small flat rock and took her pack off. Reaching inside, she took out her canteen of water and took a long, refreshing drink. She was surprised at how tired she felt. They had set a fairly fast pace so they could reach the mountain and have plenty of time to get back before dark. “I can’t believe how desolate everything is,” Lynol commented as she looked around. There were few plants and very little grass; everything seemed to be blighted and dead.

“It’s getting worse the closer we get to the mountain,” answered Kalvin, looking at Lynol. He knew he had probably pushed the girls too hard trying to get here.

After a few more minutes of rest, they began walking once again toward the mountain, this time at a much slower pace. Soon they found themselves standing at the entrance to what looked like a small, narrow canyon, which slashed back deep into the mountain. Rocky walls towered up, seeming to close in upon them. The floor of the canyon was sandy with small rocks and boulders scattered loosely about. It looked to be about two man-heights wide and wound back deep into the mountain, curving away out of sight.

“Well, here we are,” Lynol spoke in a quiet voice, gazing speculatively about. “The sacrificial altar is supposed to be somewhere in this canyon?” She was a little surprised that they had actually found the canyon. She wondered what other surprises might await them inside.

“That’s what father says,” replied Kalvin, looking about a little uncertainly. Now that they were here, he felt a little edgy. He hoped the girls didn’t notice his hesitation.

“It doesn’t look too frightening,” Dresdia spoke in a whisper, staring into the shadowy narrow passage before them, which led deeper into the mountain.

“Follow me,” said Kalvin, taking the first cautious step into the shadowy canyon.

Walking slowly, they followed the winding path as the canyon twisted and turned, leading the three ever farther into Firestorm Mountain. The canyon exuded a haunting silence as they walked. With wary eyes, they followed the canyon, the towering walls closing in eerily about them. The ragged slash split deep into the mountain, the gap the lone entrance to the legendary sacrificial altar.

Lynol concentrated, using her sorcery lightly, trying to sense if any dangerous animals were about, but other than an inexplicable uneasy feeling, she could sense no animals at all. Trying to relax, she followed Kalvin with Dresdia at her side. Their footsteps echoed hollowly down the narrow passage that hemmed them in. Was it possible they might actually find something? Lynol wasn’t sure what to expect.

The rough rock walls seemed to press in, cutting off most of the sunlight and forcing them to walk in an ominous, dark shadow. At times, the passageway became so narrow it was difficult to walk two abreast. Kalvin kept one hand near his hunting knife, feeling slightly tense as he continued to lead.

A sudden, unexpected gust of wind swirled within the upper levels of the canyon, moaning plaintively to the trio below. Kalvin shivered; he wasn’t quite as confident as he pretended to be. If something dangerous lurked in this canyon and either of the girls was to be harmed, he would never forgive himself. After all, this little escapade was his idea. “It’s nothing,” he said, trying to sound reassuring. “It’s only the wind blowing through the top of the canyon.”

“I don’t like this at all,” Dresdia complained with a frown on her face as she stepped around a small boulder stopping to look at her two companions. “It’s so dark and gloomy. This canyon turns so much we can hardly see what’s ahead of us. What if there’s some dangerous animal waiting around the next corner? What would we do? Maybe we should turn back.”

“There are no animal tracks in the sand,” Kalvin pointed out, gesturing down at the smooth, untracked sand, which covered this section of the small canyon. He realized uneasily that the wind blowing the sand could easily have erased any tracks. “This area of the mountain has been devoid of life for generations. You saw what the countryside looked like. The Worldfire and Gilmreth poisoned the mountain and the surrounding area around it. There’s nothing to be afraid of, Dresdia; come on, let’s get going.”

Turning, Kalvin vanished around the next corner, his footsteps echoing off the canyon walls as he left the two girls standing. Lynol and Dresdia looked at each other uncertainly, not wanting to be left behind but hesitating to go forward.

“What do you think, Lynol?” Dresdia asked nervously, wanting her friend’s opinion. “Should we continue? I feel as if something bad is going to happen. I’ve felt that way ever since we entered this canyon.”

“We might as well go on,” Lynol said reassuringly, adjusting her pack and turning to follow Kalvin’s fading footsteps. “We’ve come this far, it can’t be much farther.”

The two girls hurried to catch Kalvin, only to come to a stunned stop around the next corner. They emerged suddenly into brilliant sunlight. Kalvin was standing frozen looking at the scene that spread out before him. The small, narrow canyon opened up, spreading outward on both sides to form a large, sandy bowl hemmed in by lofty cliffs. Lynol estimated they were standing in a hollow area over a thousand feet across.

However, what held them all in amazement was the massive, flat stone that lay in the center. The immense, dark gray stone was easily two hundred feet across and had been chiseled into a flat, unyielding surface. Lynol stared in mute fascination, standing in the center of the path, stunned disbelief holding her motionless. There was something utterly familiar and vile about this place. It almost felt as if she had been here before. She felt a sudden chill spread across her back and shivered slightly as she looked around. She could see nothing threatening, but she had a strange feeling of impending danger!

“It’s the altar,” murmured Kalvin, taking a deep breath, surprised that it was actually here in front of them. He hadn’t actually expected to find it. This had just sounded like a good excuse to spend time with Lynol. Walking slowly forward, almost in a daze, he continued. “This is where Gilmreth killed his helpless victims, innocents brought by the villagers to the sacrificial altar to be sacrificed.”

“I can’t believe the altar is actually here,” Dresdia said apprehensively, drawn almost hypnotically toward the massive stone and captivated by its immense size.

Walking slowly forward, she stopped, finding a narrow set of weather worn steps cut into the side of the hard stone, which led to the top one-man height above her head. Dresdia gazed at them, wondering how many helpless victims had been led up these very steps to become prey for Gilmreth. She felt an icy chill run down her back at just the thought of the horror committed here.

Lynol and Kalvin walked up to stand beside Dresdia. All three paused, hesitant to climb the first step. They all knew that they were probably the first people to enter the bowl since the days of the ancient sacrifices.

Lynol reached out and tentatively touched the massive stone with her hand, running her fingers over the dark surface, almost expecting some type of physical reaction. Its surface felt hard, cold, and unyielding; its secrets and horrendous memories locked away in antiquity. We actually found the altar, she thought, astonished. She looked at her two friends; they were also looking around in surprised amazement.

“You first!” Dresdia said, pointedly looking at Kalvin. “After all, this was your idea.” She gestured toward the steps. There was no way she was going to be the first to go up them.

“All right,” replied Kalvin, sounding slightly irritated as he looked at the steps.

Taking his pack off, he laid it down. One cautious step at a time, he slowly climbed the steps. Reaching the top, he stepped out onto the hard, flat surface. In moments, he disappeared from the girls’ sight.

“Come on, Dresdia,” said Lynol, starting up the steps and looking back at her friend. “You don’t want to stay down here by yourself, do you?” She wanted to see where Kalvin had gone.

Reaching the top, Lynol saw Kalvin standing in the center of the massive stone altar. A small stone table, a full man-height long and just as wide, resided in the center. The stone was weathered from the long years it had lain exposed to the ever-changing harsh climate of Firestorm Mountain. Lynol became aware that Dresdia had followed her and was also staring at the stone altar with wide, frightened eyes.

“That’s the stone table the sacrifices were placed upon,” Dresdia uttered, her mouth suddenly feeling terribly dry, realizing the horror that had been played out numerous times upon this site.

“It’s really here,” Lynol quietly spoke, her eyes wide, gazing at where Kalvin stood. She couldn’t believe they had actually found it. She wondered if this was what had drawn her to come to the mountain.

“Look at these holes in the stone,” Kalvin exclaimed, bending down to one knee and running his fingers gingerly along several large indentations that extended deep into the stone table. “I bet these holes used to contain the chains that held the sacrifices for Gilmreth. The iron pins have rusted entirely away, and all that remains are the support holes they were driven into.”

The two girls walked over to where Kalvin was and stared in mute fascination at the altar.

“It’s awful,” said Dresdia, brushing back her blond hair from her eyes and frowning. “How could they chain up some innocent human being, knowing that Gilmreth would soon descend to kill them? I don’t see how they could have been so heartless!”

“They didn’t believe they had any choice,” Kalvin replied, grimly imagining the horror of the scene. Standing up, he peered at the towering walls surrounding them, picturing the dragon swooping down from the high cliffs to fall upon his defenseless, screaming victims. “It was the only way they could protect their families. They were trading one or two lives for many.”

“It still doesn’t make it right,” Dresdia persisted, shaking her head and folding her arms protectively across her chest. She didn’t understand how a family could allow their daughter to be sacrificed. How could they just stand by and allow Gilmreth to kill their child? She felt another icy shiver run up her back at just the thought of the travesty that had occurred here.

“It was horrible what they did,” said Lynol, agreeing with Dresdia. “It’s hard to believe they actually sacrificed their children.” Lynol couldn’t imagine the agony of the parents knowing that their child was to be sacrificed to Gilmreth.

“It was the only way they could survive,” reiterated Kalvin, knowing the girls were right. “While it may seem difficult for us to understand, they felt it was their only choice.”

“Let’s explore this area some,” suggested Lynol, staring around thoughtfully, feeling uneasy with the three of them standing so exposed upon the huge stone.

She had a strange feeling that they were being watched but by what she couldn’t tell. Her sorcery could pick up nothing that might be a danger. The horror of what had occurred here disgusted Lynol, but it also made her realize just how real and dangerous Gilmreth was.

She had hoped to find something useful at the altar when they climbed up on top of it, but all that was up here was the stone table Kalvin had found. Now, however, she just wanted to vacate the stone altar and the horror it signified. “Let’s split up and check the entire area. I want to see if anything else survived from those days.”

“I just hope it’s not alive,” Dresdia said worriedly, as the three walked in unison back down the steps. ‘I still have a very bad feeling about all of this.”

“Why don’t you girls start over there on that side of the altar, and I will start on this one.” suggested Kalvin, looking around. “Let’s check the outside of the altar itself to begin with, and then we can spread out and check the outside walls of the canyon. The sooner we get done, Dresdia, the sooner we can leave.”

-

For several long minutes, Lynol and Dresdia walked slowly along the massive stone altar, both girls scanning the stone and looking for any marks left from long ago. In some sections it was obvious that sometime in the past carvings, which had weathered away from centuries of rain and wind and possibly paintings, had adorned the sides of the tremendous stone. As they continued around, they met a disappointed Kalvin, who had also found nothing of significance.

“Whatever was once here is long gone, destroyed by the weather over the years,” Kalvin said with considerable frustration in his voice. He had genuinely wanted to find something important, some artifact left behind from the days of the sacrifices, something to impress Lynol.

“Let’s check the sides of the canyon,” he said without much hope of finding anything. “Then we can go back home.”

“Fine, but we need to do it quickly,” commented Lynol, looking up at the bright sun and trying to guess how late it was getting. “We need to be heading back soon. We don’t want to get home after dark or we’ll have a lot of questions to answer.”

“I just want to head back home as soon as possible,” stated Dresdia, not wanting to look around any longer. She had seen far too much already. This entire canyon frightened her.

Lynol and Dresdia headed off in the opposite direction from Kalvin, walking to where the cliffs towered far above them, stretching for the sky. The towering granite walls were nearly sheer, making it impossible to climb up or down. From what Lynol could see, the only access to the sacrificial altar was through the cleft where they had entered or through the air from above where Gilmreth would have descended. There might be another hidden entrance on Kalvin’s side they hadn’t found yet.

“I don’t like this place, Lynol,” groaned Dresdia, leaning against the cliff wall and letting her small backpack slide to the ground. “I feel as if something is watching us. Maybe we should leave! We should turn around, get Kalvin, and go back home!”

Dresdia wished they had never entered this place. She felt as if they were all in great danger. With a horrible feeling, she just knew this trip had been a horrendous mistake. She should have trusted her intuition and talked Kalvin and Lynol out of this to begin with.

Lynol nodded in agreement; she still had a very uneasy feeling herself about this place. She had an unexplainable feeling of impending danger that just wouldn’t go away. She was sure it didn’t involve Gilmreth or the other sorceress, But what it could be she just didn’t know. “Let’s finish checking the cliff wall and then find Kalvin. You’re right; something about this place doesn’t feel safe. As soon as we finish checking the cliff walls, we’ll leave. We need to go anyway so we can be home before dark.”

-

Lynol and Dresdia were nearly halfway through their section when they heard an excited yell from Kalvin.

“Lynol! Dresdia! I’ve found something; you’ve got to see this!” his voice echoed excitedly through the air.

Lynol could tell Kalvin had found something significant from the animated sound of his voice. The two girls hurried over, following the sound of Kalvin’s voice, finding him standing beneath a large overhang of the cliff. Lynol stopped and looked in amazement at what Kalvin had found. At the back of the overhang, protected from the weather, was a large, flat wall nearly three man-heights high and ten long. The entire wall was covered with colorful paintings and delicate writings in the old flowing script of the ancients.

“What is it?” asked Dresdia, enthralled by the sight, momentarily forgetting her fear, her eyes roaming over the colorful paintings that adorned the wall.

Walking over, she ran her hand lightly over a large painting depicting an enormous, fearsome looking dragon descending on spread wings toward the sacrificial altar. On the altar, a helpless girl dressed in white was manacled in its center, lying on the upraised stone table, a look of terror and resignation on her face.

“This is amazing,” murmured Lynol, gazing at the colorful paintings in surprise. She was astounded at the clear detail after the passing of so many centuries. She knew without a doubt that this was what had drawn her to the mountain, why this trip had been necessary.

“So this is what a dragon looks like; this must be Gilmreth,” whispered Dresdia, looking at the fearsome creature, a cold chill running down her back, realizing what the painting implied.

This despicable scene had been replayed at the altar innumerable times in the distant past. Dresdia found it difficult to imagine the horror the victims must have felt upon seeing Gilmreth swooping down on his wings toward them. This was also what she knew was asleep under the mountain they were exploring. Just realizing how close they were to Gilmreth’s underground lair made Dresdia suddenly feel extremely nervous and frightened. The sooner they were gone from this place, the better!

Other paintings showed different fierce dragons locked in bloody combat, fighting each other. Lynol walked slowly down the long row of paintings, seeing that in all the ones picturing dragons fighting there was one disturbing aspect they all had in common. One truly large dark dragon was depicted in painting after painting, tearing the still beating hearts out of the smaller ones, and then burning them to ashes with his fiery breath. In scene after scene it was the same, the large dragon triumphant as it slew its weaker adversaries.

“What does this mean?” asked Dresdia. She was standing next to Lynol, looking confused and sickened as she gazed at the paintings. “Why is the larger dragon killing all the others? Is that Gilmreth?”

“I don’t know,” answered Lynol, baffled. In none of the stories she had heard from her father was there any mention of dragons killing dragons. “It almost has to be, but I haven’t heard a lot about the other dragons, just Gilmreth.”

Lynol noticed that if you started at one end and worked to the other the paintings seemed to show an orderly progression. Going back to the beginning, she started over. The first painting showed over a dozen different colored dragons of varying sizes leaving a huge cave on the side of Firestorm Mountain. The dragons separated, going in different directions. The next painting showed the dragons attacking villages and towns, but strange looking towns.

They had buildings that reached many hundreds of feet into the air. Some had towers that soared almost too high to believe. All showed tremendous damage, as if the towns had been struck and shattered by the blows of a mighty hammer. Many of the buildings were leaning or flattened. These were the remains of the magnificent cities of the Golden Age, Lynol realized excitedly. One scene showed an enigmatic mushroom cloud rising from the center of one of the mysterious cities. Lynol wondered just what that might imply. Was this some type of ancient weapon that had been used to destroy the cities? Was this the Worldfire?

The next scene showed a dragon preying on the destroyed city’s inhabitants, spreading terror and more destruction. Soon after, the largest dragon began to kill the other dragons, one after another; perhaps their food supply was becoming exhausted. A later painting mysteriously showed many strangely dressed people exiting the same cave the dragons had fled from earlier. Their leader had a glowing blue stone affixed to his chest.

“This has to be a sorcerer!” Kalvin exclaimed excitedly, touching the figure lightly with the tip of his finger. “Maybe even one of the sorcerers who created the dragons!”

“But why did they leave the cave so much later than the dragons, why were they even in the cave, and why didn’t they try to do something to stop the dragon’s murderous rampage?” asked Dresdia, looking at the earlier paintings, which showed the dragons killing countless people in their attacks. “If they created them, surely they could have destroyed them.”

“Maybe they couldn’t,” Lynol said quietly, taken aback at what the paintings portrayed. “Maybe the sorcerers were so weak after the Worldfire they could no longer stand up to the dragons. Perhaps that’s why they waited so long to come out, hoping the dragons had destroyed one another and wouldn’t return to threaten them.”

Looking at the rest of the paintings, Lynol saw that other bands of ragged refugees from the devastated countryside soon joined the survivors from the cave. The paintings showed them establishing primitive homes in towns and villages around Firestorm Mountain. Men and women who were obviously sorcerers used their powers to clean the land of the poisons from the Worldfire. For years, they lived in peace, their population slowly growing, arduously expanding the ground cleared of poisons. Then, disaster struck! After hundreds of years of peace, the single remaining dragon returned.

“Gilmreth!” Kalvin breathed with awe, looking at the painting, which showed the dragon attacking a small village, destroying it with his fiery breath and then carrying a defenseless young girl back to the cave from which he had fled countless years before.

“He came back,” gasped Dresdia, looking at the painting.

“He could no longer find food anywhere else, so he returned to the mountain. He found the survivors and began to prey upon them,” stated Kalvin, shaking his head at the horror the painting portrayed. “That’s why they started the sacrifices, to stop the widespread destruction. Better to sacrifice one individual than to lose an entire village or town.”

“It still doesn’t make it right,” Dresdia persisted, now standing next to Kalvin. Gilmreth was as frightening as she had always dreamed.

Lynol stopped before the final series of paintings, amazed at what they portrayed. The dragon was attacking what looked like a small castle. One solitary tower rose up chillingly into the night and from its battlements a lone woman, surrounded by radiant white light, hurled fierce blue-white lightning bolts at the attacking dragon. The next scene showed the dragon carrying the limp form of the helpless woman off from the shattered ruins of the castle. “Lys,” Lynol breathed, running her hands slowly across the painting. Had the ancient painter known Lys, actually met her?

“Lys?” repeated Dresdia, looking at Lynol, confused. “Who was that?” These paintings obviously portrayed a powerful sorceress fighting Gilmreth. What did Lynol know about this mysterious sorceress?

“A distant ancestor of the Sylvars,” replied Lynol, looking at the final painting. It depicted the dragon asleep in its lair, surrounded by dazzling blue radiance, and a sorcerer lying dead before it. At the top of the painting was the family symbol of the Sylvars, the fire-breathing dragon, which was the family crest.

“That’s Malcon Sylvar and Gilmreth!” Kalvin uttered excitedly, staring at the last painting. “That’s when Malcon put Gilmreth to sleep!” Stepping back, Kalvin eyed the lettering on the wall above the paintings, wondering what mysteries the ancient words held.

Lynol recognized the writing. It was the same as their current language but written in the mysterious flowing form of the ancients.

“Beware the dragon that sleeps beneath Firestorm Mountain. Prophecy predicts that an evil sorceress will arise from the west to awaken and free the sleeping dragon. Another great sorceress will arise from the east, from the old blood, to restore the world. Beware the bringing of the Worldfire, beware the one who sleeps, only through unselfish sacrifice can the great dragon be conquered,” Lynol read aloud, feeling an eerie cold chill run up and down her spine.

This prophecy fit the current situation unbelievably well. This wasn’t a prophecy she was familiar with. The prophecy that her father and she were aware of only spoke of a powerful Sylvar sorceress arising at the time of Gilmreth’s awakening. This one told more, much more. It sounded very ominous. Just the fact that it mentioned the sorceress on the far side of Firestorm Mountain sent more cold chills down Lynol’s back. The other sorceress it mentioned, the one from the east, Lynol wondered if it could be her that it spoke of. Also, what did it mean by the one who sleeps?

“That’s why the mountain’s rumbling,” Kalvin said, his eyes opening wider at what the prophecy revealed. “There must be a new sorceress trying to awaken Gilmreth. If this writing is true, Gilmreth really is about to awaken! But what of this other sorceress it mentions? From the old blood; what does that mean?” Kalvin stopped, staring at Lynol, his thoughts hidden behind his eyes as he wondered about the hidden meaning of the words.

Dresdia stood almost petrified. “You mean that Gilmreth is really going to wake up? All this rumbling we have been hearing is actually from the dragon?” She felt weak and faint as her greatest fear seemed to be realized.

“I don’t know,” began Lynol, turning her eyes away, hating the necessity of keeping secrets from her closest friends. She wanted to examine the paintings more closely. There was a lot of information here that might be useful. “It could be a long time from now. After all, do either of you actually know of any sorcerers or sorceresses?”

“No,” replied Kalvin, staring back at the paintings, his brow wrinkled in thought. “There hasn’t been one for generations. If the prophecy you read is true, then we’re quite safe until these two sorceresses show up.”

Kalvin stared up and down the long wall of paintings trying to make sense of it all. They had found much more than he had ever believed possible. His mind was full of a hundred questions. The prophecy Lynol had just read was worrisome; he wondered if his father knew anything about it.

“Is there a sorceress on the other side of the mountain using her magic to try to awaken Gilmreth?” Dresdia asked with growing worry in her voice. She felt like her nightmares were coming true.

“It would explain all the rumbling from the mountain,” replied Kalvin, looking at the paintings and turning his attention back to the writings above them. “But this prophecy says there should be two sorceresses, one in the west and one in the east. It just doesn’t make any sense.”

Lynol stood in silence looking at the paintings, not wanting to look into the eyes of her two closest friends; they were extremely close to figuring out the truth. She was almost afraid of the next question they might ask. All the information they needed was in the prophecy if they just thought about it. She didn’t know if she could lie to them if they just came out and asked her.

Suddenly, behind them sounded twin monstrous roars coupled with sharp razor claws striking stone, causing the three to whirl quickly around. Two large cat-like beasts, larger than a mountain lion, crouched threateningly, ready to spring. The giant cats had managed to sneak up on the three without being heard. They had long, curved fangs that dripped a yellowish fluid, probably poisonous, and their claws were nearly a full hand’s length long and lethally sharp. They were motley gray and yellow in color, with eyes of crimson red.

White-faced and grim-lipped the three stared in mute horror, their eyes transfixed upon the huge cats. There were rumors of mountain lions still around, but no one had seen one in years. These clearly were not mountain lions. They were much larger!

“Oh my God!” screamed Dresdia, her eyes wide with fear. She stepped back against the painting-covered wall in sudden terror, her hand over her mouth. “Where did those things come from? I knew we should never have come here!”

Dresdia could see their eminent death crouching before them. Why hadn’t they just stayed home? Their parents would never know what happened to them. They should have left a note for them to find just in case something went wrong. She had suggested it to Kalvin, but he had talked her out of it.

“What the hell are those?” swore Kalvin, pulling out his long hunting knife, brandishing it unsteadily before him, his face turning grim. “Stay behind me!” he ordered with false bravado, stepping defensively in front of the two girls, knowing if these deadly beasts leaped there was little he could do. The cats were just too big, and he doubted if he would be able to hold them off even with his hunting knife. His plan to spend time with Lynol may have just cost all of them their lives.

Guardedly, Kalvin watched the cats, wondering what he should do, waiting for them to spring. How could everything go so suddenly wrong? Kalvin looked from side to side seeking somewhere they could escape to, a small cave, an indention in the cliff wall, anything that would provide some protection. The only thing within reach that he could see was the sacrificial altar. On top of it, they might be safe from these cats if he could keep them off the steps, but Kalvin knew the cats would catch them before they could reach it. He held his knife, pointing it at the cats, waiting for them to spring with a sick feeling gripping his stomach.

“No!” Lynol said suddenly, realizing the perilous danger they were in. “Stand aside.”

Stepping protectively in front of a surprised Kalvin, she pulled her dormant amulet out from beneath her shirt, rapidly flicking her fingers and moving her right hand smoothly, weaving the fire spell. A bluish nebulous glow suddenly surrounded her fingertips. Grasping her amulet firmly with her left hand, she concentrated deeply, feeling the stone growing warm. Lynol took a deep breath and slowly let it out. She felt her heart hammering in her chest. When she felt ready, she reached out with her mind. A sudden searing wall of yellow-red flame leaped up from the bare ground between them and the two dangerous animals.

Lynol opened her hand, the amulet laying there glowing brilliantly with intense blue light. She focused, trying not to be afraid, willing her heart to slow down and taking short breaths. Never had she attempted such a strong use of her newfound abilities. Lynol felt the powerful spell quickly draining her strength. She knew that Dresdia and Kalvin’s lives depended on her newly discovered abilities. She couldn’t let her friends down!

The two cats growled loudly and angrily, snarling at the hot flames and glaring with burning eyes at their chosen victims. Their claws cut deep, angry notches in the stone as they slowly backed away from the roaring hot flames.

“What!” Kalvin exclaimed in utter amazement, stepping back away from the sudden heat and flames. He gave Lynol a startled, shocked look. Everything had happened so suddenly with Lynol stepping in front of him and now the searing wall of flames, Kalvin scarcely knew what to think. Then, glancing at the glowing amulet in her left hand, a light seemed to explode in his mind. “The old blood, it’s you!” Kalvin exclaimed, bewildered and with dawning understanding, recalling the prophecy. “The prophecy is about the Sylvars! You’re a sorceress! You’re the one from the east!”

“You have your ancestor’s powers,” Dresdia breathed, her eyes widening and staring at her best friend in astonishment. “You’re the sorceress in the prophecy!” Dresdia looked at the leaping flames in disbelief and then back at Lynol and the glowing amulet she held in her hand.

Lynol didn’t reply. She couldn’t! It was taking all of her concentration to keep the flames going. Focusing her mind on her amulet, she willed the flames to leap up even higher and slowly move toward the two growling cats. Her amulet grew warmer in her hand, and the blue radiance increased until she was covered in it. God, don’t let me fail she thought as she concentrated on the fire spell and the snarling cats.

The two angry cats backed away from the approaching, leaping flames; loud, frustrated snarls echoed off the high cliff walls. They didn’t want to give up their prey so easily. They paced back and forth in front of the wall of protective flames, seeking a path around or above to get to their intended victims. Looking at the three humans behind the blaze, the cats roared and scratched the ground in front of them with their enormous claws, leaving more deep furrows in the sand and rock. They slowly backed away, shaking their heads back and forth snarling in anger.

Lynol, holding her brightly glowing amulet, focused upon the flames, causing them to continue to march slowly and meticulously toward the two snarling beasts, forcing them even farther back. Several times she felt the spell wavering, the flames weakening. Each time the cats would move closer to the flames, ready to pounce. Focusing desperately on her amulet, she willed her fading strength into the spell. She began to feel faint and dizziness began to sweep over her, but she continued to focus, forcing the leaping flames ever closer to the two snarling beasts. Then, with a last effort of her waning strength, she forced the flames to leap up and rush toward the cats.

With screams of pain and anger and a last threatening growl, the cats turned and retreated, bounding up a narrow defile in the stonewall to the side of them Lynol had failed to notice earlier. As soon as the cats were out of sight, Lynol released her hold on the fire spell and the wall of flame instantly subsided. She wouldn’t have been able to hold the spell for more than another few moments anyway.

Turning around, she faced her two friends, feeling faint and exhausted. This was the greatest exertion of sorcery she had tried to date. Only their dire predicament had forced her to risk tapping the power so deeply. Waves of dizziness washed over her, causing her to stand upon unsteady feet. She saw the amazed and confused looks upon her two closest friends’ faces.

“I would have told you eventually,” she said faintly, her gaze becoming blurry as she began to slide weakly to the ground, only to be caught and held up by two strong arms. Looking up, she saw Kalvin, who had a concerned, yet tender look upon his face. “I just need to rest for a few minutes and eat something, then I will be fine,” she said weakly, her voice a quiet mumble. Then everything went black.

-

Kalvin picked Lynol up in his arms and carried her to the wall of paintings, leaning her gently against it. Dresdia hurriedly opened up her pack, digging out some dried fruit she had packed that morning. She couldn’t believe what she had just seen; Lynol was a sorceress! Her best friend had the legendary powers of the ancient Sylvars! The prophecy Lynol had read aloud to them was frightening. What did it mean for Lynol and her future? Dresdia was afraid to think about the dangerous implications. She hurried back over to Lynol with the dried fruit, hoping she was okay.

Lynol opened her eyes and felt a hard, flat surface against her back. Where was she? For a moment, she couldn’t remember. She closed her eyes to shut out the light. When she opened her eyes again, she found the face of Kalvin watching her anxiously. The memory of the cats came flooding back. Lynol struggled to stand up and the world spun. She sank back against the wall feeling weak, angry at her body’s betrayal. She couldn’t believe how weak she felt.

“The cats are gone,” Kalvin said with worried concern in his voice. “You scared them away. I don’t think they will be coming back.”

Kalvin placed a canteen against her mouth and Lynol took a few sips of the cool, refreshing water. She could see the look of deep concern and worry on his face. She felt helpless and embarrassed by her sudden weakness. Some sorceress she was if she was going to pass out every time she cast a decent spell! She knew that she needed to regain her strength so they could leave. Those cats could come back at any time, and she knew she didn’t have enough strength to enact the fire spell again. She had never imagined anything like them living on the mountain. Lynol shivered, feeling suddenly cold as the full realization of what had just happened struck her.

“You’re shivering,” Dresdia said with growing distress in her voice.

Then Kalvin touched her arm, bringing her out of her worrisome thoughts. “Just relax, it’s over.”

“Try these, Lynol,” Dresdia said anxiously, handing her the dried fruit. She was worried about Lynol’s obviously weakened condition.

With furtive glances, Dresdia watched the defile where the dangerous cats had fled, hoping they wouldn’t return. She had never been so frightened in all her life. Kalvin shouldn’t have brought them here. They could all three have been killed by those horrendous animals! If not for Lynol, there was no doubt in Dresdia’s mind they would have.

Lynol nodded weakly and chewed. Finally, she swallowed, then, forcing the words out, “I will be better soon.”

After a few more bites and additional water, Lynol began to feel her strength slowly returning and the shivering stopped. She looked at her two friends. She felt her mind begin to clear and then with a dawning realization, she realized that Dresdia and Kalvin both knew her secret! She knew from this day on their lives would never be the same. The days of unknowing innocence would be left forever behind them.

-

Far up the slope of the mountain a few minutes earlier, Jalene froze in sudden surprise; she had just felt a sudden, powerful shift and flowing of the power from somewhere close by. Clyton and Kason halted also, seeing the surprised look on Jalene’s normally emotionless face. Pausing, Jalene looked slowly around, seeking the source of the power she sensed.

“What’s her problem now?” murmured Clyton, frowning at Jalene. He almost wished they had never agreed to make this trip. The woman was demonic, driven by some inner force that made him nervous.

She had been up before dawn driving them to get going up the mountain. They had been forced to eat a cold breakfast, as Jalene didn’t even give them time to build a cooking fire. The one they had built the night before for warmth had been completely out this morning. Clyton was supposed to tend the fire during the night to keep it burning for warmth, as well as protection, but had fallen asleep so the fire had died.

Jalene peered around, looking for the source of the disturbance. There was nothing visible and other than that brief surge of power, she could detect nothing else. “Firestorm Mountain,” she said quietly to herself with narrowed eyes. Perhaps what she had felt had been a further weakening of the sleeping spell, which held Gilmreth.

She felt uneasy. She had never felt a disturbance of the power like this before. It mystified her, and she wondered what it implied. The sooner they completed their task and she could get back down off this infernal mountain, the better.

Turning in her saddle, she looked at Clyton and Kason with scorn. “Come on you two, I want to reach the cave early in the morning, don’t get slack on me; I won’t tolerate it! I’m not paying you to be laggards!” Turning, she began making her way determinedly along the narrow path, which Kason had pointed out earlier.

Jalene preferred to keep the two men behind her whenever possible since they were leading the two pack animals. In the morning, they would be at the cave, and before the day was out the treasure she was seeking would be hers. She would then be able to rid herself of these two imbeciles. The thought brought a demonic smile to her cold face. Then, soon after that, Gilmreth would be hers to command!

Chapter Six

Early the next morning Jalene was glaring with malicious anger at the massive jumble of rocks and stones that lay blocking the hidden entrance to the cave. This wasn’t a result of mere chance or an accidental rock fall. The laborious work of time and the overpowering hand of nature could never have sealed the entrance this thoroughly. Jalene suspected sorcery was the culprit, or at least the original culprit.

The entrance was totally buried under tons and tons of rock and dirt. She suspected that Malcon Sylvar himself must have sealed it behind him when he entered the cave to confront Gilmreth. The sorcerer, not expecting to survive, had brought the tunnel down behind him as he entered Gilmreth’s lair. The passage of time and the weather had done the rest.

With her hands on her hips, her eyes narrowing to angry dark slits, she examined the heavy boulders, dirt, and stones that barred her way trying to decide what to do. From the looks of the rock fall, the entrance at one time had been quite large. It would have had to be to allow the dragons to escape.

They had scoured the immediate area searching for another entrance, scrambling over rocks, boulders, and scrawny, blighted vegetation. If other entrances existed, time had erased all traces of them. No, this was the only entrance that had survived and her only way to get into the cave that led deep into Firestorm Mountain. If she wanted to gain access, it would have to be through this heavily blocked entrance. She hadn’t expected this to be easy, but she also hadn’t expected it to be so difficult, either. Jalene let her breath out slowly as Clyton walked up to her. The two men had been extremely useful, but that was nearly at an end; she was getting tired of their constant griping and complaining.

“If the cave is behind those rocks, it will stay there!” bellowed Clyton loudly, his back aching painfully from all the excruciating climbing he had been doing along the steep slope and cliff face, which supposedly harbored the blocked cave.

He breathed deeply from exhaustion, trying to catch his breath. Eyeing the rocks and folding his arms rebelliously across his heaving chest, Clyton spat on the ground, ignoring the disapproving glare from Jalene. He was fed up with this expedition; the sooner they were rid of this troublesome woman, the happier he would be! All he wanted now were the gold coins, which hung so seductively from her belt. Maybe it was time to see how powerful she really was. It was damn cold up here on the mountain. With a chill wind blowing across the slope and even with his heavy coat on, he still felt the penetrating cold.

“I’ve crawled all over these filthy rocks,” Clyton heaved belligerently, not caring how Jalene reacted. Sauntering up closer to Jalene, he looked at her challengingly. “There’s no way to get past them, it’s like someone sealed up the cave with the intention of ensuring that no one ever entered it again, if there actually is a cave! It looks to me like a big pile of rocks that slid down the mountain in an avalanche years ago. We might as well start back, there’s nothing more we can do here.”

Jalene’s anger flared at him like a raging flame; turning away, she moved her fingers in a quick flickering motion, using her sorcery to probe what lay hidden behind the rocks and boulders. She could sense the large void just beyond the collapsed rocks, which protected the sealed entrance. They extended some distance into the cave, more evidence that part of the roof had been collapsed long ago.

Shrugging out of her pack, she opened it, taking out two small containers containing special potions she had mixed up before setting out on this journey. She had suspected the cave entrance might be impassable, perhaps even blocked by rockslides over the years, particularly since Clyton and Kason had no knowledge of the caves existence. The two had supposedly been all over the mountain in their trapping expeditions.

She unscrewed the lids off the two palm size containers and poured the liquid contents carefully together into a larger wooden bowl. She had hoped it wouldn’t be necessary to use this. These two chemicals were highly dangerous and just carrying them in her pack had made her extremely apprehensive. She wasn’t sure that even these would do the job with as much blockage as there was at the cave entrance.

Clyton and Kason moved closer, watching her curiously and sharing a cautious glance. What she was doing was mystifying, but they had come to expect that from this peculiar, demanding woman. For several days, she had become more on edge, her voice growing harsher and becoming more uncompromising as they neared the spot marked on the map. Whatever malignant force drove her, they wanted no part of it. Their eyes met knowingly. As soon as Jalene went to sleep tonight, they would kill her and take the gold coins for themselves. With all those coins, they would be able to stay off this infernal mountain for quite awhile. They could live a life of luxury in Draydon for many months, if not years!

Placing the bowl in a deep cavity at the base of a large boulder, which seemed to be holding much of the collapsed debris behind it, Jalene backed away quickly. The bowl started to smoke and sizzle as the two powerful ingredients began to react with each other. An acrid, caustic smell began filling the air.

The two men’s eyes started to water, and they began coughing as the fumes irritated their throats, causing them to burn. Slowly they backed away, not sure what was about to happen. They stared at Jalene wondering what she had done.

“What the hell is that?” demanded Kason, coughing violently from the smell.

“If you value your lives, I would suggest you get back very quickly,” Jalene said contemptuously, turning and running nimbly across the steep slope to take up a position behind a large boulder a safe distance from the cave entrance.

Kason uttered an oath, realizing Jalene had probably just put them in danger. Curbing his rising temper, he grabbed Clyton by the shoulder. “Run! It’s not safe here anymore!”

The two men turned and ran in the opposite direction, throwing themselves behind a small boulder. They had no sooner taken cover than a large explosion obliterated the massive stone at the cave entrance, shaking the mountain. An enormous shock wave slammed into them, hammering them to the ground and shifting away at the rubble shielding the cave. Bits of rock and loose dirt cascaded down on the two men, nearly burying them. A thick, pungent gray smoke rose up, obscuring the face of the mountain.

Struggling unsteadily to their feet and coughing hoarsely, they brushed the debris off themselves. They saw Jalene scampering toward the smoke shrouded entrance of the cave. As the chill breeze rapidly dissipated the smoke, they could dimly see a small, narrow opening that disappeared into darkness where the cave entrance was supposed to be. Jalene paused briefly at the entrance, peering in, before scrambling inside to vanish quickly from their sight.

“Damn her!” rumbled Clyton, angrily. “I’ll personally throw her off this infernal mountain. Her screams as she falls will be music to my ears!”

“Let’s just make sure we retrieve the gold coins first,” Kason warned, agreeing with Clyton’s assessment of the situation. “We’d better follow her to make sure those coins stay safe!”

The two men scrambled quickly back up to the cave, slipping and nearly falling in the loose rock that now lay scattered before the entrance. The newly blasted passage was just wide enough for one person to squeeze through. They could hear Jalene’s hurried footsteps fading in the distance.

“Let’s go,” Kason muttered, not happy about entering the cave.

He hated being in tight quarters, but he was curious to find out what she was after. It had to be extremely valuable. Perhaps they could add whatever Jalene sought to the gold coins. If it was indeed as valuable as she acted, they may never have to work again. They looked at each other greedily, their thoughts taking similar avenues. Once she had what she was after, they would kill her and leave her body in the cave.

-

Moments earlier, Jalene had scrambled through the narrow passage blasted out by the chemicals she had mixed together. The chemicals had burned a passage through the rocks and dirt, which had sealed up the cave. It was a formula listed in her thick book of sorcery spells, though she wondered if this was really sorcery. What other miracles had the ancients possessed that had been forgotten in antiquity?

The small tunnel suddenly widened and fell away to the sides, and Jalene stopped and reached into her pack. She took out a small round globe. Running her hands over it she focused her sorcery, weaving a simple spell that harnessed the power the small globe needed. Almost instantly, a bright pinpoint of light began burning in its center, growing and spreading until the globe began to shine with a brilliant white radiance.

The globe was an artifact from the Golden Age; she had stumbled across it in the ruins of an ancient city. The harsh, dry weather of the desolate desert had partially preserved the ruins. Much of the city had been buried in the shifting sands, its few surviving structures burned out crumbling hulks of what they once were. Jalene had found the globe deep inside of one of the buried buildings. She had spent much of her life exploring the desolate wastelands where no one else dared to venture. She preferred the solitude it offered, and it had given her the time she needed to hone her sorcery skills.

Holding the globe up high, Jalene saw that she was standing in a large, manmade tunnel. The sides were smooth and the floor flat, with the ceiling nearly fifty feet above her head. Occasional cracks ran haphazardly down the walls, showing that the passage of time had manifested its effects even here. She reached into her pack again and removed an ancient scroll. Unrolling it, she examined the markings in the bright light. The yellowed, brittle scroll was an underground map of the huge complex of the ancients, which lay hidden beneath Firestorm Mountain.

No one, she believed, knew that here beneath the mountain centuries in the past the great dragons had been created. The master sorcerers of that ancient time had pooled their vast resources to create a race of stupendous creatures to do their bidding. After studying the map, Jalene rolled it up and carefully placed it back in her pack. Holding the light before her, she began walking at a rapid pace down the wide, dusty tunnel. Her footsteps echoed hollowly off the walls in the vast tunnel that surrounded her.

-

After nearly twenty minutes of walking, the tunnel branched. A smaller tunnel went off to her left, and the larger tunnel continued down to her right. Pausing, she stood between the two. From the larger tunnel, a foul stench pervaded her senses. There was no doubt what resided in its dark, fathomless depths.

“Gilmreth,” Jalene spoke quietly to herself, tempted to take the passage and lay her eyes upon the legendary dragon, pleased that she now knew for certain where the dragon resided. For a moment, she stood gazing down the large tunnel, visualizing the dragon sleeping at its end. She fought down the urge to set her eyes upon Gilmreth, reminding herself of the task she had come to the mountain to achieve.

A much smaller tunnel led off to the left. This tunnel was less than ten feet high and only twenty feet wide. For now, Gilmreth could wait. Turning, Jalene walked briskly down the smaller tunnel, the glowing globe held high in her hand, its light penetrating the black gloom before her. Her breathing grew quicker as she realized she was nearing her goal. She could feel her heart beating faster.

The tunnel began to branch off into other smaller tunnels. In the distance, open and shut doorways beckoned in the glow from Jalene’s light, but Jalene walked determinedly on. She didn’t have the time for serious exploration now; what she was seeking lay farther in. A half hour later, she came to a stop before a massive metal door that blocked the tunnel. She had walked down several tunnels and taken numerous flights of stairs to reach this level. Other tunnels split off to the left and to the right, but what she wanted was behind this massive door. It evidently was designed not so much as to keep whatever lay behind it in, but to keep everyone else out!

Jalene set her glow bulb down upon the hard floor. Closing her eyes, she grasped her amulet, invoking her sorcery and directing her power at the huge door, commanding it to open. Her hands wove intricate ghostly patterns in the air, joining lines of energy. Glowing filaments of red seemed to leap from her fingertips, latching themselves onto the door.

The door creaked, shuddered, and seemed to move ever so slightly as its rusty parts resisted Jalene’s desire. Concentrating harder, Jalene pictured the door opening. A red glow built up around the stubborn door, her amulet turning fiery hot in her hand. With a loud groan, the massive door slowly swung open in protest, its weakened locking mechanism snapping under the powerful mental force. Jalene’s triumph was a shrill scream, almost soundless, and inarticulate. The object of her desire was almost within reach.

Jalene stepped inside, taking a quick look around. She held the glow bulb up high, seeking the object of her search, the object which had brought her to Firestorm Mountain itself. Her eyes, darkened slits glowing with unbridled excitement, swept across the contents of the room. She was in a large vault, which the ancients had used to store many of their incredible secrets. A thin layer of dust covered everything, screaming out that this vault and its secrets had been undisturbed for ages. Perhaps since the Golden Age itself!

If she had time in the future, its contents might have to be examined in more detail. The power the secrets in this vault and perhaps other parts of the complex contained could be extremely useful. She would have to return here someday and take her time searching through everything, including this vault. She knew from the map that it would literally take her weeks to explore the mammoth complex hidden beneath the mountain.

Grasping her amulet tightly, Jalene focused her mind on what she sought. Her amulet warmed to her touch and seemed to pull her toward one side of the large room. Glass cases and boxes were stacked everywhere with only narrow pathways between the long, orderly rows which reached nearly to the ceiling.

Walking twenty paces to her left, she came to another massive, sealed vault door. Jalene frowned, staring with growing aggravation at the solid obstacle before her. Whoever had sealed up the treasure Jalene desired had wanted to keep it safe. The degree to which it was protected only served to hint at its power and importance.

Focusing once again, she used her sorcery on the door. It glowed with a dull red radiance, but refused to budge. In anger, she grasped her amulet tighter, lashing out at the metal door with her mind, focusing her sorcery on the object that barred her path to what she so desperately desired.

The metal door moaned and groaned, trembling under the force she was exerting upon it. Jalene’s amulet became burning hot in her hand and was painful to hold, but she stubbornly refused to stop. She hadn’t come this far to turn back, not when she was so close! The door continued to tremble and then a loud snapping noise resounded through the room as its locking mechanism collapsed, freeing the door and allowing it to swing open. Behind it was another equally massive metal door. This door too eventually swung open under Jalene’s growing wrath at the numerous obstacles placed before her.

Jalene paused briefly, leaning against the wall. Her use of sorcery had nearly exhausted her. She felt her vision blur, and her legs were trembling. It was all she could do just to stay upon her feet. She took a long drink of water from the canteen she was carrying, trying to clear her head. Jalene knew that if Clyton and Kason were to come upon her now she wouldn’t have the strength to fight them. She had no doubt in her mind they would kill her and take the gold coins she carried.

Jalene took several deep breaths, letting them out slowly. After another long, satisfying drink of water, she began to feel her strength returning. She listened carefully to see if she could hear the two men. There was no noise from the room or tunnel behind her, so Jalene knew she still had a few precious minutes before the two mountain men caught up to her. She assumed they had gotten up the nerve to follow her into the mountain. Their desire for her gold coins would have driven them to enter the tunnel; they couldn’t be far behind.

Gathering her strength, she stepped into the small room, her light globe raised on a tired arm casting its bright radiance exposing what lay within. The room was surprisingly empty except for a single small opaque glass case that rested captivatingly on a raised dais in the center. Jalene felt her heart race with growing excitement as she saw the case. It drew her tantalizingly toward it.

Drawing in a deep breath, she approached the dais slowly, her burning excitement mounting with each step. Her search was nearly at its end. She nearly stumbled from sheer exhaustion as she reached the case. Could this case contain the object of her desire, the object that would allow her to control Gilmreth and rule mankind? She could sense what felt like sheer power radiating from the case. It was almost intoxicating. She looked down at the case trying to see what it contained.

Standing above the case, she felt disappointed. She couldn’t see what rested inside. It was covered in dust and opaque. Probing with her sorcery, Jalene could sense a weak sorcery spell that made the case untouchable to a normal person. It was surprising that, after so many years, the spell was still working. Only someone who commanded sorcery could penetrate the protective spell.

Marshaling her waning strength, she wove a complicated pattern in the air above the case. A red, nebulous glow manifested itself, interacting with the protective spell protecting the case. With a loud, tumultuous crack, which echoed through the room, the protective spell shattered, breaking the glass case at the same time. Broken shards of glass rained noisily down upon the floor. The contents of the case lay finally, irrevocably revealed.

Jalene gasped at what lay inside. For a long moment, she just gazed at the magnificent object before her. Reaching in, Jalene grasped a small, finely crafted scepter. The egg-sized ruby at its crown, encased in gold, began to glow with a feeble spectral red light at her touch. New strength seemed to flow into her. She felt revitalized as she tapped into the tremendous power the scepter contained. Raising the scepter above her head, she marveled at its beauty and the mystical power it represented. In her hand, she held the legendary Stone of Loraine! The great amulet created by the master sorcerers of the Golden Age and it was hers! Jalene gazed at the scepter, feeling its weight in her hand as she slowly turned it, drinking in its magnificence.

The ancient writings in her sorcery book only hinted vaguely at the tremendous latent power it wielded. She hadn’t known for sure that it would be here. Several of the books and scrolls she had found had hinted that it had been destroyed during the Worldfire. However, one ancient scroll had described the amulet's final resting place, repudiating its destruction, and now it was hers!

“With this, no one can stand against me!” she cried exuberantly, her voice ringing down the empty tunnels and deserted rooms. “Gilmreth will bow to my will, and with this I will reign. My temple will be built, and the people will be mine to command!”

The invigorating power continued to flow into her. The sudden surge of power was addictive, and Jalene swayed upon her feet, drinking in the intoxicating feeling of omnipotence.

“What’s that?” a greedy male voice spoke from the open vault door, disturbing Jalene.

Clyton stood at the entrance peering in, holding a glowing lantern in his hand, staring enthralled at the jeweled scepter Jalene held. The red ruby and gold scepter holding his greedy eyes captive, here were all the riches he could ever dream of possessing. Just the scepter alone would allow him and Kason to live a life of luxury. They could sell it for a fortune in Draydon.

Behind him, Kason looked worried and uncertain upon seeing the insane power hungry look growing upon Jalene’s face. One quick look told Kason that Jalene was totally out of control, and their usefulness to her was over. He knew their very lives could be in jeopardy. He realized, with a sinking feeling in his stomach, that it had been a mistake to follow her into the tunnel. They should have fled when they had the chance.

He grabbed Clyton by the shoulder and whispered urgently. “We need to leave, now!”

Kason knew they must get out and get out quickly. He felt they were in extreme and imminent danger. He didn’t know what Jalene had found, but they must escape her while they still had the chance.

Clyton stood frozen, unable to move, held captive by the icy gaze of her eyes alone, a prey held helpless in the gaze of a deadly viper without mercy.

Kason took a cautious step backward, becoming more apprehensive and frightened at what he saw. Was it his imagination, or was the scepter she held glowing? Still grasping Clyton’s shoulder, he tried to pull him back out of danger.

“Clyton, we need to get out of here, it isn’t safe!” Kason spoke urgently, his eyes focused warily on Jalene.

“Give us that red jewel you’re holding!” Clyton demanded, finding he could still speak, his greed overriding his common sense. “If you do, we might let you live,” he threatened as he eyed the glowing scepter, greedily unable to look away from it. Here was the treasure he had always dreamed of.

“No,” Jalene replied in a voice without emotion or a trace of mercy, as she swayed on her feet from all the energy she had taken into her body from the Stone of Loraine. She could feel the surge of nearly unlimited power in every cell of her being.

“That jewel is ours, our payment for bringing you to this place, you owe it to us! declared Clyton, staring fixedly at the red ruby in the scepter. “Find something else for yourself, but we want that scepter!”

“Clyton, come on!” pleaded Kason, his fear growing. He tried to pull Clyton backward out of the doorway, but Clyton refused to budge, staring in greed at the red ruby in the scepter Jalene was holding.

“Out!” Jalene screamed, her face white, her pupils dilated so much her eyes were black holes of rage rimmed by a thin line of fiery red light, as she finally realized what Clyton wanted.

Unconsciously, she tapped the power of her sorcery, commanding the Stone of Loraine to direct its rampant energy toward the two men. A beam of ruby red light, powered by her anger, flicked out from the stone, touching Clyton and Kason.

Two loud screams of terror and pain echoed through the empty tunnels and the vault, ending in sudden, eerie silence. Where Clyton and Kason had stood moments before only a cloud of minuscule white ashes remained floating gently to the floor. The two men were gone; they had been killed by the energy released by the Stone of Loraine.

“I don’t need you two anymore,” spoke Jalene, smiling sinisterly, holding the powerful scepter before her and gazing at it with the depths of her dark eyes.

The power of the scepter was everything she had imagined. A mere thought had literally turned Clyton and Kason into nothing more than burned ashes. She paused, savoring the moment. She could feel the awesome power that flooded through her and seemed to radiate from the very core of her body. For several long moments, Jalene stood, relishing the feeling. Jalene knew she had found what she had been seeking; now it was time to go.

Placing the Stone of Loraine securely in her backpack, Jalene left the small vault, walking through the small piles of ashes that just moments before had been two living men. She rapidly retraced her steps, carefully shutting the large metal doors behind her. She couldn’t repair the locking mechanisms, but the doors’ sheer size and weight would prevent anyone from entering.

With the stone, she could begin implementing her plans for domination. Her first order of business would be the taking over of Draydon and then later, when the time was right, complete the awakening of Gilmreth. The great dragon was destined to be her personal slave, her enforcer! To be used like a sword, to be wielded at her discretion against any who might be foolish enough to oppose her. While her scepter would be the power, Gilmreth would be the terrifying enforcer of her will.

Standing outside the entrance, she drank in the afternoon air, relishing the promising future which was now hers. The bright afternoon sun was shining down upon her.

Soon, Jalene knew, it would be time to awaken the sleeping dragon. With the Stone of Loraine, she now possessed the power to do so easily.

Jalene found her horse that had been scared earlier by the blast on the mountain. A few minutes later, she was riding back down, leading the two pack animals and heading back to Draydon and the destiny that was now hers to fulfill.

Down below, Gilmreth stirred lethargically as the sleeping spell continued to weaken. Fresh air from the cracked open entrance pervaded his lair. The small fish in the dark pool of water dove to the bottom as the fresh air stirred the ageless dust in the huge cavern.

-

Lynol looked worriedly at Firestorm Mountain from where she was sitting at the kitchen table. She had been watching the mountain on and off most of the morning. She’d heard a resounding rumble that sounded much sharper than anything before come from the mountain earlier. After peering closely at the mountain, she thought she could see a cloud of dust or smoke rising midway up its steep slope. What could it be? She had wondered worriedly. After awhile she had gone back to her chores, putting the strange noise out of her mind. She had briefly used her power to check on Gilmreth and felt calmer when she realized he remained asleep, still held captive by Malcon’s sleeping spell.

Then later, as she was studying in the back room, she felt the other sorceress again, this time much stronger then ever before, almost like a burning beacon in the night. The sheer blast of power that seemed to radiate from her was searing, even painful, and for a brief moment, she touched the other’s mind. She found it hard to believe what she sensed. The greed, selfishness, anger, and the cold unforgiving hatred, which was prevalent in the other’s mind was frightening. How anyone could feel like that was beyond Lynol’s imagining. Lynol cut off the brief contact, repelled by the sheer magnitude of depravity she had briefly sensed. Then Lynol realized the other sorceress was on this side of Firestorm Mountain!

What is she doing on the mountain? Lynol wondered, with foreboding and growing concern. Why did she feel so much more powerful than before? Was she trying to reach Gilmreth in his underground lair? The other sorceress had to have been responsible for the loud noise and smoke that Lynol had seen rising on the mountain earlier. Lynol returned to the kitchen and sat down at the table where she could look out the large window at the mountain.

Concentrating, she reached out again and lightly touched the dragon’s mind, making sure that Gilmreth was still safely asleep in his lair. With relief, she found him still sleeping beneath the mountain. The other sorceress had done nothing to the dragon. Almost fainthearted, she was afraid that whatever it was the other sorceress was doing on the mountain did not bode well for her and her friends.

For nearly an hour, she continued to check on the other sorceress and the dragon. Gilmreth stayed asleep, held captive by Malcon’s spell. Finally, the other sorceress left the close vicinity of Gilmreth’s lair and headed back toward the other side of the mountain.

Lynol was vastly relieved that the other sorceress was leaving. Lynol tried to put the other sorceress out of her mind, but she still wondered just what the other sorceress had been doing. She had been very close to Gilmreth.

Lynol knew it was imperative that she intensify her studies lest Gilmreth awaken before she was ready. Her first problem would be Gilmreth, and then, if she survived that confrontation, the other sorceress would have to be dealt with. There was so much she needed to learn and she was afraid there was too little time left to do so. Frowning, she leaned back in her chair and turned her thoughts back to the day before trying to get her mind off what had just happened.

-

Kalvin and Dresdia had been full of questions as they returned from the sacrificial altar. The late afternoon sun was shining down on the three as they slowly walked along the desolate trail toward home. The events of the attack were confused in Dresdia and Kalvin’s minds. They weren’t sure exactly what had happened. Just thinking about what Lynol had done made them feel uneasy, especially the implications. Both couldn’t believe that she was actually a real, live Sylvar sorceress! However, they couldn’t doubt what they had witnessed with their own eyes. All those years as children they had played make-believe, now it had become a reality.

“How long have you known?” Dresdia asked, breathlessly, accepting the thrilling knowledge that her best friend was actually a sorceress. She had always felt that Lynol was special; she had seen it in her eyes and her vast inquisitive nature. Now she had been proven right.

“Only for a little while,” Lynol replied with a weak smile. She hadn’t totally recovered from her exertion of sorcery during the attack. They had already stopped several times to allow her to rest, eat more dried fruit, and take several large drinks of water. “But you can’t tell anyone. I’m not ready for people to find out, there is still so much I need to learn, and I’m not a very strong sorceress. Actually, I can’t do much at all, just a few simple spells like the fire spell you saw earlier.”

“That looked like a pretty powerful spell to me,” said Kalvin, knowing Lynol had saved their lives.

“What can you do? What’s it like?” Dresdia continued with wide, questioning eyes. She was bursting with curiosity and excitement. There was so much she wanted to know.

“I’m still learning. I can barely control fire and a few other insignificant spells,” Lynol explained, looking over at her friends. “It’s pretty hard, and the spells make you feel exhausted afterward. You saw what happened with the fire spell I used earlier. I passed out completely from the exertion. I just barely managed to drive those cats away.”

“But you did drive them away,” replied Kalvin, recalling how ferocious the cats had looked. “You did what you had to!”

Kalvin knew that if not for Lynol they all could easily have died at the altar site.

“It still sounds exciting!” Dresdia commented, not wanting to be reminded about the cats back at the altar. “Could you make Kalvin do something funny?” she asked with a mischievous smile on her face. “Make him stand on his head or walk backward? Or even turn him into a squirrel? We could keep him caged up somewhere and feed him nuts when he does tricks.”

“No,” Lynol replied with a tired smile, gently laughing at the thought. Leave it up to Dresdia to make her feel like laughing. “I can’t do anything like that.”

Kalvin was quiet for awhile as they continued to walk. His brash action at getting the girls to go to the altar site was really bothering him. In the distance, the canopy of green protective trees at the swimming pond was finally visible. They would soon be home.

Kalvin had always dreamed secretly of a possible future with Lynol, but now that future had been inexorably grasped away by powerful forces beyond his control. Kalvin was still stunned by her actions at the altar site. He had never expected something like this in his wildest dreams. Kalvin stopped and turning to face Lynol, drew back and gazed down into her eyes, their rich light blue color a beautiful contrast to her dark brown hair.

“The prophecy on the wall said you will have to face this other sorceress and probably Gilmreth some day,” he said slowly with worried constraint in his voice. “Is that true?”

“We’ve always known the dragon might awaken,” Lynol said gently, suspecting the emotions that were running amok in Kalvin’s mind. Gazing into the caring depths of his dark brown eyes, she continued softly. “Who else but a Sylvar should be there to stand before the last dragon?”

Kalvin’s brow furrowed and he gazed down at the ground, slowly shaking his head. Lynol and Gilmreth; just the thought made him feel queasy! He could remember as children playing sorceress and dragon in the musty haystacks in Lynol’s barn, but it had always been him coming to the rescue, not the reverse. He feared greatly for Lynol’s safety. “So it’s true then, Gilmreth is going to awaken. The rumbling from the mountain is this other sorceress trying to awaken the dragon.”

“Yes,” replied Lynol, trying to sound calm. “Even my father doesn’t know about this other sorceress. It’s something I will have to tell him shortly. Sometimes I can feel her use of sorcery when she uses it on Gilmreth, that’s how I know she is trying to awaken the dragon.”

“This sorceress is causing the rumbling?” Dresdia asked, worriedly. She had been afraid of the rumbling from the mountain since it started.

“Most of it,” admitted Lynol, nodding her head slowly. “Some of it has been avalanches of rock and snow, and sometimes her use of sorcery on the mountain has caused the avalanches.”

“How long before she succeeds and awakens Gilmreth?” asked Kalvin, finding it hard to believe that anyone would want to awaken the dragon.

He was finding it difficult to accept that the dragon was going to wake, that someday soon he might lay his eyes upon the dragon. It was like a nightmare coming to life.

“I don’t know,” replied Lynol, looking at Kalvin and seeing the concern and worry in his eyes. “Malcon’s spell is very strong and still holds Gilmreth within its power.”

“If this prophecy is true you will someday have to face Gilmreth,” Kalvin said slowly, his eyes focused on Lynol.

“But not even Malcon could slay Gilmreth!” Dresdia wailed upset at the thought. “What are you going to do? I don’t want you to sacrifice yourself as Malcon did. Do you have to face the dragon?”

“We don’t know what the future will be,” replied Lynol, looking at her two friends and seeing the concern on their faces. “We don’t know when Gilmreth will awaken. It could be years, the prophecy could be meant for my descendants; we just don’t know. I don’t relish the thought myself of facing the dragon. My dad and I have even discussed maybe trying to trap Gilmreth in his lair in the mountain. If we could find the cave entrance that leads to his lair and then collapse the roof some way, we just might be able to seal him in.”

“That sounds better,” Dresdia said, relieved not wanting to think about Lynol facing Gilmreth.

“But the prophecy could be about you, couldn’t it, Lynol?” Kalvin persisted. “From what you have said, this sorceress on the other side of the mountain is trying to awaken Gilmreth and you also have sorcery powers on our side of the mountain. It sounds to me like you are indeed the one mentioned in the prophecy and not your descendants!”

“Perhaps,” replied Lynol, knowing Kalvin had seen through her attempt to calm down Dresdia. “We will just have to wait and see. The dragon still sleeps for now, and hopefully he will continue to sleep for quite some time.”

Kalvin stayed quiet. He suspected that a lot of what Lynol was saying was just to calm Dresdia. If the dragon could have been sealed in the cave, then Malcon Sylvar would have done that during his days, but he never had. Kalvin doubted that any type of physical barrier would be strong enough to hold the dangerous dragon.

“The prophecy mentions this other sorceress,” Dresdia said worriedly, thinking about what she had just heard. “I don’t see how you can face both the dragon and this sorceress if she succeeds in awakening Gilmreth. Why would she want to awaken the dragon anyway, Gilmreth is just too dangerous; doesn’t she understand that? I don’t want to ever see the dragon, not ever!”

-

Lynol had never answered Dresdia directly. She didn’t know herself what she was going to do, and she didn’t want to worry her young friends any more than she needed to. Standing up, Lynol walked out onto the back porch thinking about Kalvin and Dresdia. They were her best friends and extremely concerned about the prophecy on the wall of the altar site. They had continually begged her not to take any unnecessary risks as they walked home. She had asked them to promise not to mention her abilities to anyone, not even their parents. She looked up seeing her father walking across the yard from the barn; he was almost to the porch steps.

“Lynol, I’m going to Galvin,” her father said with a warm smile, walking up the steps. “Want to come along? It’s been awhile since you’ve been to the village.”

“What do we need in Galvin?” Lynol asked curiously. A trip to the village might help take her mind off recent events.

The journey to the altar site, her use of sorcery against the cats, Dresdia and Kalvin’s numerous questions, and now the other sorceress up on Firestorm Mountain had left her nerves on edge. Her total exhaustion after casting the fire spell had really frightened her. If she were so weak after casting a spell of that strength, what would a really powerful spell be like?

She began to understand why Malcon had died when he put Gilmreth to sleep. A truly powerful spell would be totally consuming, draining all your strength. It made her realize just how careful she needed to be when casting spells.

“The Mystols asked for some fresh milk and eggs for their store. We have some extra, so I thought we might run them in, and they’ve been asking about you.” Damon knew that seeing Gwen would be very helpful to Lynol; Gwen had helped raise Lynol. Damon didn’t know what he would have done without Gwen’s help.

“Sure, I’ll go. I’d like to see Gwen,” replied Lynol.

-

Several hours later, Damon led their creaky, two-wheeled cart into Galvin. The small village consisted of stone and wood houses spread out haphazardly over a small green meadow. Most of the homes had small gardens and the four hundred or so people who called Galvin their home were a close-knit group. Several hundred other families lived out on nearby farms and did their trading in Galvin. Any extra crops, when they had extra, were loaded on wagons and shipped to Draydon to sell in that town’s larger markets.

Lynol knew that in times past many more people had lived in Galvin, but the population for generations had been steadily declining. The deadly consuming fever, which had taken her mother’s life, had substantially reduced Galvin’s population many years earlier. On its outskirts, a few boarded up abandoned homes still bore mute testimony to those deadly harrowing times.

A narrow stone street marked the village’s main market area, with a few small trading stores and businesses on each side. There was a blacksmith’s shop, a small inn, and the village tavern finishing up the short street. Primarily bartering, the trading of one item for another was how most business was conducted in Galvin. Very few people had in their possession the precious gold coins that were the accepted currency.

Damon led the horse and cart to a small, well-kept store near the middle of the street and brought the cart to a creaking halt. The Mystols were a friendly older couple who had run the store for many long years, extending credit to families during poor times and helping people in need. Sometimes, Damon suspected, the Mystols just barely eked out an existence of their own due to the generous charity they extended. Their kindness was one of the reasons he insisted on trading with them, plus all the help they had given him in raising Lynol. The world needed good people, and the Mystols were a prime example of generosity.

“Damon, Lynol, how nice to see you,” a smiling Gwen Mystol said, coming down off the steps of the store and brushing her gray hair back out of her twinkling eyes.

The Mystols had no children of their own and looked forward to the rare visits of Lynol and the Gor children. They treated them as if they were their own. Gwen had literally adopted Lynol since her mother died and done everything possible to help Damon raise her. Gwen knew that Damon had done his best, but a young girl really needed a mother to talk to on occasions, and Gwen had tried her best to fill that role. She loved Lynol as if she were her own daughter.

-

Across the street, Addison Tohr stood on the porch of his small trading store glaring at the Sylvars. He disliked the Sylvars and the way they were royally treated in the community. Their land was too good for them and their home far larger than was needed. Someday he hoped someone would put them in their rightful place.

It aggravated him immensely that they always traded with the Mystols. Food from the Sylvar farm was always in high demand, and if sold from the Tohr store would bring in a handsome profit. Turning, he went disgustedly back inside, shaking his head. It was such a waste he thought, but someday they would get what was coming to them and when that happened he would be first in line to take what he felt was his. Their farm should be busted up into smaller sections and given to some of the people in Galvin. Just the thought of the extra money he could make from what that farm could produce if worked as he would work it, made his head swell.

-

“We brought fresh milk, eggs, vegetables, smoked meat, and some jelly which Dresdia and I put up the other day,” said Lynol, smiling and swinging down from the cart with a bounce in her step, giving Gwen a big hug.

Lynol felt a strong attachment to Gwen and knew she could talk to her about anything, but sorcery and the events at the altar site Lynol knew had to be kept secret. She didn’t want to worry or frighten Gwen unnecessarily.

“Bring them in, child. I have some sweets we just received from a trader who came from Draydon yesterday. I think you will really like them,” replied Gwen, releasing Lynol and smiling warmly. “My, you sure are growing,” she went on noticing how Lynol was filling out in all the right places. “You’re looking more like a young woman every day!”

The boys would be taking notice of Lynol very quickly, though Gwen suspected, with an inner smile, that Kalvin Gor would have something to say about that. She knew Kalvin had a crush on Lynol and she was curious to see where that went. Those two would make a wonderful young couple someday.

-

Later, Lynol sat at a table in the small trading store enjoying the sweet taste of the candy that Gwen had promised. Gwen had generously credited her and Dresdia’s accounts for the jars of jelly Lynol had brought in. The candy was quite unlike anything she had tasted before. Kalvin would die for something like this she thought, with a playful smile spreading across her face. Perhaps she should use some of her credit to take some to her friends.

“You really should come into town more often, dear,” chided Gwen, enjoying Lynol’s company. There were so few children nowadays. Those there were seemed to grow up too quickly to take on adult responsibilities. “How are Dresdia, Kalvin, and you getting along?”

“Dresdia has a new colt named WhiteStorm and Kalvin is just, well, Kalvin!” replied Lynol, shifting uneasily in her chair, hoping Gwen wouldn’t notice her nervousness. Her relationship with Kalvin was entering new and uncharted waters, and she wasn’t sure how to interpret her own feelings.

Gwen nodded to herself, smiling. Lynol and the Gor kids were her favorites, partially because such good people had brought them up, and it reflected in their actions.

At the counter, Tohm Mystol and Damon were going over their account with Tohm adding a generous credit for the eggs, milk, and other items they had brought in. Tohm was immensely pleased with the large amount of smoked meat Damon had brought. Some he would sell and part would be given to a few of the needy families on the edge of the village who were always short of food.

Too few of the farms nowadays produced enough extra crops or meat to satisfy the heavy demand of the people who lived in the village. Even some of the farmers had a hard time just feeding their own families. Most produced just enough to trade for the supplies they desperately needed.

The Mystols felt fortunate to be such good friends of the Gors and Sylvars. They knew they could count on them to trade their excess vegetables, meat, and other farm items at the store on a regular basis. It allowed the Mystols to be charitable, even at the cost of considerable profit. Tohm knew a growing number of families seemed to be having a harder time each year just growing the food they needed. If not for the occasional handouts from the Mystols who knew what might happen to them.

“People around here are getting really nervous about that damn mountain, Damon,” Tohm said with a trace of concern in his normally calm voice. “A few people are even starting to talk about your dragon being real and the cause of the rumbling.”

“The dragon is real, Tohm,” Damon replied, wishing he could convince Tohm of that. For years, Tohm had sat in the village tavern with Damon and Aldin, listening to him tell the legends of Gilmreth and Malcon Sylvar, enjoying the stories but not believing. “I’ve always said the dragon sleeps under the mountain. It could be awakening, Tohm!”

“But after a thousand years!” Tohm exclaimed, slowly shaking his head in disbelief. “I think not. I would have to see it first to believe it; after all, a dragon! I admit that occasionally a strange animal is born from seemingly pure stock, but I just can’t believe in a dragon.”

“I just hope you never see it,” Damon replied somberly. “I noticed Addison out front when we arrived. Is he still harassing you about helping people?”

“Some; he doesn’t believe in charity if there is a profit to be made,” admitted Tohm, frowning slightly. “I believe he would let a family starve before extending them any credit at his store. You know, he made an offer for the Gor’s new colt. I just hope Aldin turns him down, that colt would be a fine animal for Dresdia. I wouldn’t like to see it end up in Addison’s hands, he doesn’t treat his animals very well.”

“I’ll talk to Aldin. If he is intent on selling it, maybe I’ll make him an offer,” Damon replied thoughtfully. He didn’t want to see the young colt in Addison’s hands either. “The colt is a pure blood, no trace of deformity at all. That type of stock needs to be protected and preserved!”

“You know that will only make Addison angrier with you,” Tohm added with a trace of concern in his voice. “He never misses an opportunity to put you and the Gors down, especially after he’s had a few drinks at the tavern. The man is just too greedy.”

“I’m not worried about Addison,” Damon replied with a frown, wishing Addison wasn’t so driven by greed. “I just wish he would be more concerned with the people in our community rather than with himself.”

“Addison is just Addison,” replied Tohm, shaking his head. “Every community has people like him.”

-

Later that afternoon, they returned home. Lynol was quite content with the small bag of candy she had purchased with part of her credit. She had also gotten several bolts of fabric to make some new clothes. Her father had insisted on a higher quality of material than what she normally purchased, and Lynol had allowed herself to be persuaded. Gwen had been very helpful picking out the fabric and suggesting patterns Lynol might want to use. She had also volunteered to help with the sewing if Lynol needed some assistance with the more complicated stitches. Gwen had taught Lynol how to sew and was a very good seamstress.

-

That night, after the sun went down quietly behind Firestorm Mountain, Lynol was back at her studies. She had truly enjoyed the time she had spent with Gwen; it had helped her to relax. It also made her realize just how much she missed not having a mother. Her hand strayed unconsciously to her amulet. Lynol knew she should see Gwen more often, but it was becoming expedient for her to press on with her sorcery studies.

She didn’t know how much time remained before Gilmreth would awaken. Lynol knew the importance of spending the precious time she had studying the incantations in Malcon’s sorcery book. She still hadn’t told her father about the other sorceress yet.  Lynol didn’t want to worry him any more than he already was. There was nothing they could do about her anyway. Lynol knew at some point in time they would have to discuss it, but not now.

In the back of her mind, there was still that mystifying haunting vision from the Sylvar Stone, which she planned to investigate with the coming full moon in slightly less than two months. Maybe she would learn more then. There had to be a reason for that vision!

Opening Malcon’s sorcery book, she began her lessons for the night, concentrating on the ancient flowing script before her. Tonight’s lesson was very simple. She had a small bowl of water setting on the table before her. She read the spell several times and then, grasping her amulet, began to recite the spell to bind the energy lines together. Her amulet began to glow with a blue radiance. In the bowl, the water began to tremble slightly. A small amount spilled out onto the table, and then the rest rose up out of the bowl and formed a small globe of water hovering a few inches in the air. Lynol reached out curiously and touched the water with her finger, barely touching the wet surface. At her soft touch, the globe broke, and the water splashed back into the bowl and some out onto the table.

Well, that was interesting, Lynol thought, wiping up the spilled water with a dry cloth and refilling the bowl from a small pitcher on the table. I wonder what else I can do with water?

A few minutes later, she had the water up above the table, slowly spinning and moving cautiously at a snail’s pace from one end of the table to the other. She then lowered the water back into the bowl without spilling a single drop. Lynol smiled to herself. She felt she was making more and more progress with each spell that she mastered. She just hoped she had enough time.

Chapter Seven

It was early afternoon, and the sweltering sun had nearly risen to its zenith above the slowly melting snowcapped pinnacles of Firestorm Mountain. Jalene stared with brash satisfaction at the bustling work going on around her. She was standing in the center of a massive construction site in the center of town where her new temple was rapidly being built. In the past several months, much had been set in motion and accomplished.

Men and woman were tediously mortaring the joints of massive white stone blocks, hauled laboriously from the new quarry at the base of Firestorm Mountain. Even a few older children had been pressed into service carrying water and small tools to the enslaved workers lest the work fall behind schedule. The work started at dawn and lasted until dusk seven unrelenting days a week. Jalene tolerated no slackness at the work site.

Special overseers, their minds under Jalene’s discreet, manipulative control, constantly coerced the workers with threats of floggings. Their whips had risen on more than one occasion to strike across the defenseless back of a lagging worker.

Armed guards were everywhere, keeping a watchful eye on the busy workers, allowing no subversive talk or a hint of disobedience. A new order and leader had come to Draydon, and the ruthless guards were well aware of the power she wielded. It had already been demonstrated on numerous occasions, and no one wanted to be on the receiving end of the sorceress’s ire.

-

Since her successful return from Firestorm Mountain, Jalene had used the Stone of Loraine to gain complete control and dominance over the leaders and pompous businessmen of the town. A few had tried to resist, and it had been dealt with swiftly and harshly.

Jalene had shown up at a town council meeting shortly after her return from the mountain and demanded that they put her in charge of the town. She had been cold and factual about what she intended to do and warned them that to resist her desires would have very serious and deadly consequences. Initially, her statement had been met with laughter, disbelief, and a pitying look from several of the older councilmen; they thought her crazy or deranged. They told her to leave and not bother them with such ridiculous demands. They had serious business to attend to. She could still remember in detail exactly what she had done.

With a cold, calculating smile, her hand had grasped the Stone of Lorraine, which she had brought with her in an old handbag. Pulling the scepter out with her right hand she had focused her mind, connecting with the powerful amulet. Two glowing red beams flashed out, and two of the more heavily laughing men had died, burned to ashes. Their ash remains drifting slowly to the tabletop, their chairs, and finally to the floor. The other councilmen had sat in stunned bewilderment and fear as they looked at the ashes, which just moments before had been two living men. Then Jalene began to speak again, and they had all listened attentively, not wanting to meet the same fate as their unfortunate councilmen friends.

After gaining control of the town council, Jalene had visited most of the larger shops, stores, and businesses in Draydon, bringing all the owners over to her way of thinking with a simple obedience spell, which needed to be reinforced weekly in order to keep everyone under her control. She placed a command in the minds of each to attend a weekly meeting of the town council where Jalene could reinforce the spell en mass as needed. In just a few short days, her liberal use of the Stone of Loraine had eliminated the last fruitless resistance from the town’s leaders and businessmen to her rule. She had made it extremely clear that anyone who disobeyed her would die.

There was a revolt by a group of workers who had been ordered to begin clearing land for the new temple. When people found out what they were expected to do and the hours they were expected to work, there was an attempt on Jalene’s life. The failed attempt resulted in the gruesome deaths of the three ringleaders in front of the other workers. Their bodies had been left on display for days as a reminder to everyone of the danger and consequences of challenging her power.

The town leaders now obeyed her wishes without thought, nearly falling over each other in their efforts to appease Jalene. They didn’t question their sudden desire to satisfy every whim or wish of this mysterious, dark clad woman who had come suddenly into their midst. Under her orders, many of the aging shops in the center of Draydon had been torn down to make room for the massive new stone structure that was slowly growing from the ground up.

Jalene hadn’t hesitated to demonstrate her power to the populace in general, striking fear in everyone’s hearts as they realized how easily she could destroy them. She had made it extremely clear that many would die, including children if she wasn’t obeyed.

The populace had worked extensively for long hours each day clearing and leveling the large site. Then the massive stones, hauled in from the towering white cliffs of Firestorm Mountain, began to arrive. Such Herculean construction hadn’t been attempted or contemplated in untold generations. The people didn’t understand why they were being forced to work on this new construction. They wondered about its purpose and why this strange woman wanted it built so quickly.

The black haired woman walked amongst them constantly while they were working, watching everything they were doing. They all knew she was a sorceress; they had watched her use her power on numerous occasions. They worked to survive and to protect their families.

Jalene on several occasions had used the Stone of Loraine to force tired workers to work longer hours at the cliffs where the massive white stones were being painstakingly chiseled out of the mountain. Impatiently, Jalene coerced the stonecutters with her power to ever-greater effort. Finally, her patience had worn thin at the slow pace. She had used the Stone of Loraine upon the white cliffs, cutting immense blocks out of the cliff face for the workers to labor upon. The quicker the huge stones were cut and hauled to Draydon, the quicker her temple would be completed.

Numerous workers routinely collapsed from heat and fatigue at the quarry, and several had died when a massive stone block broke free from its fastenings, crushing them beneath it. The workers stayed worn out by the relentless pace that Jalene’s overseers demanded and extorted. It had been necessary to replace some of the workers who had collapsed with new conscripts added from the unsuspecting travelers who came to Draydon to trade. Already the word was spreading that Draydon had become a place to be avoided.

The foundation for her massive temple was already laid. Its massive white stones set firmly in place as workers swarmed around its base.

-

With a cold, satisfied smile, Jalene looked around. Everything was proceeding smoothly and according to plan. She held the Stone of Loraine in her right hand, feeling its invigorating power and knowing no one could stand against her as long as she wielded the powerful amulet.

A disturbance to her right attracted her attention. Frowning she leveled her cold, dark eyes upon an overseer and a worker. The overseer had stepped back several paces, speaking heatedly to an older frail looking man. Jalene recognized the overseer. It was Dalden Sikes, a ruthless individual who followed Jalene’s orders enthusiastically and without question. The man seemed to take immense pleasure out of inflicting pain and enjoyed the ruthless power he now held. Jalene suspected that Sikes had a criminal past and had run with the darker elements of Draydon. This made him ideal for Jalene’s purposes.

Jalene’s eyes glazed over with anticipation. She knew how this overseer would react; how she had programmed them all to react. With Sikes though, it had been different. He actually seemed to enjoy inflicting pain on the helpless workers whenever an opportunity arose.

“It’s not time for a water break yet, old man!” Sikes sneered loudly, his face harsh and taunting, brandishing his whip in his right hand. “Get back to work!”

“But it’s so hot, how can you expect us to work in conditions like this? People are passing out from the heat!” the older man protested weakly, his eyes looking fleetingly about for help.

He could scarcely stand upon his legs, he felt so dizzy and sick. Others working nearby looked away; they didn’t want to attract the overseer’s wrath. They felt the same way as the old man but were afraid to act or say anything for fear of the guard’s reactions.

“Get back to work; water will be coming shortly!” grunted Sikes, raising his whip threateningly. “There are no breaks until I say there’s a break!”

“Please, don’t strike me! I have done everything I can! I must have some water and a few minutes to rest,” the old man pleaded. “I can work no more. I don’t have the strength!”

“And if I let you have water and rest, what about the others? They will expect the same special treatment,” replied Sikes, glowering at the old man as he readied his whip. “No, I think my whip is the solution, and the only way to avoid it is to work. What say you, old man?”

The old man merely stood there feeling dazed and staring uncomprehendingly at Sikes. He was so tired and suffering from thirst that Sike’s words made little sense.

With mounting rage, Sikes brought his whip down, striking the defenseless man squarely across the back and knocking him painfully to the ground. More repeated blows fell cruelly across the old man’s back.

The old man cried out in pain, curling up into a fetal ball, trying to protect himself from the painful nerve wrenching blows of the whip. Gasps of agony came closer and closer together until he was reduced to moaning mindlessly like an animal. The sound of the whip striking flesh could be heard clear across the work site.

Satisfied, Sikes stepped back, motioning to several nearby workers. “Take this worthless old man back to his place of work. If he fails to reach his quota for the day, I will finish what I just started,” Sikes spoke with deadly intent, his eyes dark, cold, and without mercy. “If he dies, then he dies, and I will have someone else here tomorrow, maybe one of your children!”

The indicated workers rushed forward and picked the old man up, dragging him away from Sikes and taking him back to his place of work. They knew that in order to save his life they would have to pick up the pace of their own work so as to be able to help the old man finish his. This was their new life under the demanding rule of the sorceress.

With a piercing and satisfied gaze, Jalene nodded to herself. This type of example served to keep the other workers in line. They were fearful of bringing the overseers’ anger down upon themselves. However, she didn’t want the work to falter. Perhaps she should have more children rounded up to bring water to the thirsty workers.

She knew if the workers continued to collapse, her overseers wouldn’t be able to keep to her timetable. It might even be necessary to let the workers have an occasional day off if their strength continued to falter. She would keep an eye on that. Any days off meant postponing the completion date of her temple. She sighed with anger, realizing she might have to back off slightly in her treatment of the workers. She had to have the workers healthy in order to complete her temple, which had to be completed so she could finish her plans for Gilmreth. There were just so many details to worry about.

She knew she needed to find someone to place in charge, someone she could trust to obey her commands without the need for sorcery to coerce him. She had envisioned a special cadre of priests to staff her temple when it was completed. Perhaps she should begin searching for her head priest, a man who she could place in a position of power to oversee the construction of the temple.

She needed someone to watch over all the details and day-to-day work schedules. She wondered where she could find such a person. There was no one currently in Draydon who would fill the role. Turning, Jalene left the temple. She had other details to attend to.

As she left the area, workers stared at her back maliciously, sensing her power but afraid to resist or say anything that might attract her attention. Some had seen the town leaders pandering to this strange woman, rushing about to do as she wished without question. They had also been unwilling witnesses to the gruesome executions of those who had been courageous enough to attempt to stand up to this power hungry woman. They paused briefly, watching the thin young woman with such an aura of arrogance pass them by without a single backward glance or acknowledgement of their existence as she left the construction site.

Many of the workers had heard rumors of sorcery, and some had even watched her use it. Men working at the cliff site reported she had carved out huge blocks of white stone from the sheer cliff wall with the power of her sorcery alone. They grumbled and talked amongst themselves, but no one knew what they could do. They had all heard the old legends and the almost mythical powers that sorcerers of the past had possessed. None had believed, but now a new day had dawned, and sorcery had returned to Draydon.

Returning to the small inn, Jalene walked out onto the balcony staring with cold, unblinking eyes at distant Firestorm Mountain and the sleeping dragon it protected. “Soon Gilmreth, your temple will be ready,” she murmured, stroking the scepter she held in her hand, its egg size ruby glowing slightly from her touch. “Once your temple is completed, you will awaken and we will gather all the people. We will build a city to dwarf in magnificence anything the ancients possessed. With the Stone of Loraine and you at my side, the world will be ours!” Jalene gazed stoically out over Draydon with eyes that saw everything, but felt nothing at all.

-

Later that afternoon as the sun began to set, its last nebulous pale rays stroking the peaks of Firestorm Mountain, Jalene roused herself from her rest. Slowly, she drew herself to her feet. Her unbridled use of sorcery recently had taken its toll. Even with the Stone of Loraine, extremely powerful spells still sapped her strength. For over a month now, the people of Draydon had been toiling on her temple. She had used her sorcery time and time again to get everything set in motion. Even now, she still had to use her sorcery to keep control of the people of the town, particularly the councilmen and some of the business leaders.

Setting the scepter down on the room’s small table next to her spell book, Jalene opened the old book to the invocation for the dragon spell. She looked at the words for a moment before beginning the incantation. She pierced her wrist with the sharp knife blade, watching expectantly as her warm blood dripped slowly into the small copper bowl waiting beneath. It was painful every time she cut herself, but she merely accepted the pain. She had felt much worse in the past.

She had done this so many times in the past few months that the spell poured automatically from her lips. The blood mixed with the ingredients in the bowl and she watched as they bubbled and boiled. Taking up the scepter, she focused her power through the stone, finishing the incantation for the dragon spell. The ruby became inflamed with a fiery red glow which seemed to saturate and pulse throughout the room like a steady, unwavering heartbeat. Weaving the powerful spell, she let it reach its peak then cast it toward the sleeping dragon waiting beneath Firestorm Mountain.

-

Underneath the old mountain, Gilmreth’s form quivered as a brilliant red radiance illuminated the sleeping dragon. Jalene’s spell clawed at, joined, and then finally penetrated the ancient sleeping spell. One of Gilmreth’s large eyes opened slowly to show red. Moments later, the other flicked open. The dragon remained lying quiescent on the floor of the cavern, thoughts slowly taking shape. Dim memories of past places and gruesome feedings tantalizingly played fleetingly on the surface of Gilmreth’s long dormant mind as the dragon struggled to awaken.

The foremost memory was of a man standing before the dragon surrounded by a brilliant blue light. Years before the same man had hurled large bolts of lightning, causing the dragon immense pain. Its hide moved, twitching over its great length at the unpleasant memory. With Herculean effort, the dragon slowly raised its massive head, its eyes peering through the dim red light that pervaded the gloom toward where the man had stood. Nothing was there, just the sound of distant dripping water. Gilmreth shook his head, and the tiny memory fragment vanished as if it had never been.

Confused, Gilmreth swung his head ponderously around, his mind fighting the affects of the long sleep. Slowly, exhaustingly, the dragon lowered its massive head back down, closing its eyes and returning to the spell induced sleep that still held the dragon in its weakening grasp. The fiery radiance faded, leaving the cavern once more in unbroken darkness. In the small pool, the fish returned to the surface, coming out of the black depths where they had fled.

-

“Yes!” Jalene cried triumphantly, the invigorating memory of the dragon’s horrid thoughts filling her with a sense of excitement and power.

She had been able to sense the dragon’s thoughts. This was the first time this had occurred. For just a few short moments, the dragon had actually awoken. “With the stone, I can break the spell completely and free Gilmreth. Of course, I will need to arrange to feed the dragon immediately upon awakening to restore his strength,” she said aloud. After that, Jalene thought, regular sacrifices at the temple should keep the dragon satiated.

She felt elated at her success. Each use of the Stone of Loraine brought Gilmreth closer to awakening. Very shortly, she would command the dragon to rise. Then her dominion would begin. With Gilmreth at her side, the entire world would be hers to command. Her every whim would be obeyed without question. A new age would dawn.

-

Moments before, when Jalene’s use of the power briefly woke Gilmreth, it interrupted Lynol’s studies. Lynol sat petrified at her table, Malcon’s open spell book lying momentarily forgotten in front of her. She fought down panic, a hollow feeling of fear in the pit of her stomach as she sensed the waking dragon. She could feel the sudden, overwhelming use of power on the mountain, far greater than anything before.

The other sorceress’s abilities, especially the magnitude of those abilities, came as a tremendous shock. Lynol had known the other sorceress was powerful, but nothing like this! Sending her mind desperately probing beneath the mountain, she sensed with chagrin Gilmreth’s decadent thoughts as the dragon stirred into partial wakefulness. For a moment, Gilmreth’s and her mind connected.

“Gilmreth is waking up!” she said despairingly, clenching her hands together as their minds touched. “I’m not ready; what am I going to do?” Her eyes glanced furtively around the room, but there was no answer to what she was seeking.

She could feel the dragon’s horrid thoughts running rampant in her mind. With shock, she saw the dim picture of a man, surrounded by blue light, standing before the dragon. Then the picture faded as the dragon fell back to sleep and the sleeping spell reasserted itself. Lynol pulled herself free of the dragon’s mind with a gut wrenching effort and sat for a long moment with her head pounding and a terrible pain between her eyes. She hadn’t been prepared for the strength of the spell the other sorceress had cast against the sleeping spell that held Gilmreth, nor the brief connection with Gilmreth’s mind.

“Malcon,” Lynol murmured with a breath of relief, as the dragon fell back into its spell-induced slumber and the pain in her head gradually faded away.

The dragon still remembered the ancient sorcerer. More importantly, the dragon still slept! Lynol knew the dragon would soon awaken. There was no longer any doubt. Gilmreth’s time of awakening was growing very near.

For several long minutes, Lynol sat spellbound. She knew that today Gilmreth had come extremely close to awakening. The other sorceress was becoming more powerful with each passing day. It was only a matter of time, possibly a very short time, before she succeeded in awakening the slumbering dragon. The dim shape of Malcon had been unmistakable. Other macabre shapes had also flitted briefly through the dragon’s sluggish mind. It was more urgent than ever for her to continue her studies. The sleeping spell was quickly losing its potency. Someday, perhaps much sooner than she had imagined, she would have to face the dragon.

There was no longer any doubt that this other sorceress, on the other side of the mountain, was indeed the one spoken of in the prophecy at the sacrificial altar. Lynol knew with frightening clarity that she had to be the Sylvar sorceress mentioned in the prophecy. There was no one else! Gilmreth would undoubtedly awaken in her lifetime, probably very soon. With growing despair, Lynol doubted if she would ever be ready to face the deadly beast.

She wondered how this other sorceress had learned so much about sorcery. Lynol once before had touched that other's mind as she worked her spell on Gilmreth. Lynol had sensed the greed, the selfishness, and the utterly self-centered personality of the other sorceress. Lynol found it hard to believe that anyone could hold such feelings.

“If only I had someone to teach me,” she said plaintively, realizing the near futility of the impossible task before her. This was tantamount to anticipating failure. She had to find a way; she couldn’t fail. She was a Sylvar!

The other sorceress was extremely powerful if she could break through Malcon’s spell so easily. How could she ever hope to match her awesome power? Perhaps later on tonight she would learn more. For tonight was the full moon her vision had spoken of. She knew that, without some type of help, she stood no chance against Gilmreth and the woman sorceress. If Gilmreth awoke anytime soon, Lynol feared her own life would be cut terribly short. Lynol tried to calm her breathing and take her mind off what had just happened. Why was this burden on her shoulders? Why did she have to be born a Sylvar?

Forcing herself to return to her studies, she worked on a spell that was supposed to make plants mature overnight. Speaking the incantation and grasping her amulet, she used the fingers of her right hand to weave an intricate pattern in the air that was supposed to connect the energy patterns to encourage plant growth. Once the weave was complete, she focused her mind on the small tray of carrots in front of her, willing them to grow. She felt the pattern shift to the plants, and the plant leaves shimmered briefly, turning a brighter green. She watched expectantly for a moment, but nothing else happened.

“Is that all?” she said to herself. Disappointed, she closed the sorcery book dejectedly with her left hand. She had expected more, to see the plants actually start to grow and even form carrots she could eat.

Some spells seemed to work easily, and every so often, there was one that didn’t seem to work at all. It was as if Lynol didn’t have the power or ability needed to make the spell work. How could she ever match the abilities of the other sorceress if even this simple spell and others failed to work properly?

Lynol leaned back despairingly, wishing she were someone else. Without meaning to, she started to cry. She felt the task before her was impossible. After each failure, she felt more despondent. Helpless tears streamed down her cheeks. Lynol wished her mother were here, to hold her, to comfort her. She felt so alone. She wiped the flow of tears away with her left hand, but they refused to stop.

Outside her open window, the sun was falling to the west, sinking into a misty jagged horizon. The whole landscape of Firestorm Mountain was bathed in soft, fading light, with gradually lengthening purple shadows. Lynol’s quiet sobbing slowly faded as darkness set in.

Hours later, Lynol stood upon the porch gazing nervously at the waiting Sylvar Stone. It was barely visible behind the garden in the full moonlight. In another hour, the moon would be directly overhead, casting the full strength of its reflected light upon the mysterious monolith. Her father was asleep in his room, unaware of Lynol out on the porch. Lynol took a deep breath, looking toward Firestorm Mountain in the moonlight. The mountain was silent for the moment and covered in semi-darkness. Lynol shuddered, knowing what slept beneath.

In the past several months, Lynol had pushed herself, studying and working on her sorcery spells. She’d made a lot of progress but was still less than a fourth of the way through Malcon’s sorcery book. She had been forced to skip some pages because she didn’t understand the purpose of what the spells were encouraging her to accomplish.

Many of the spells she couldn’t get to work, like the plant growth spell earlier. She was evidently doing something wrong, but she had no idea what it was. Only the fact that she was a Sylvar had driven her to continue. Many times she felt like giving up, but she knew if she did she would be letting her father down as well as generations of Sylvars through the ages.

In the distance, a dim rumbling came from Firestorm Mountain, sending an icy shiver up Lynol’s back, the aftermath of the sorcery used on Gilmreth earlier. She shivered, pulling her light jacket tighter around her. She could hear a few crickets chirping loudly in the dark confines of the garden. Lynol gazed around speculatively, wondering what the night would bring.

Gilmreth still slept beneath the mountain, but on several occasions before tonight Lynol had sensed dark terrifying thoughts emitting from the cold heart of Firestorm Mountain. These had only been flitting dreams dwelling in the sleeping mind of the dragon. However, tonight had been particularly alarming; for a few short heart-stopping moments, the dragon had awoke. She had actually been able to see into the dragon’s mind!

Several times recently, Lynol had awoke in the middle of the night from chilling nightmares, finding her protective blankets thrown off on the floor and her entire body covered in a cold sweat. Her ongoing nightmares were of Gilmreth awake and on a killing rampage. She dreamed the deadly dragon was destroying everything and everyone, and she was powerless to stop him.

Each time during her studies when Lynol cast a spell that failed to work, she felt the near hopelessness of her task. Just like earlier tonight when she had cried, letting her emotions get the best of her. She prayed feverishly that these nightmares weren’t a premonition of the future. She took a deep breath, willing herself to stay calm.

There were also rumors circulating in Galvin of a mysterious woman who had come to power in Draydon, bending the leaders of the town to her will. Traders passing through Galvin claimed she had used her powers of seduction, sleeping with certain town leaders to rise quickly to her lofty position. These same town leaders now served her every whim, their eyes glazed over with passion and desire.

Supposedly, a massive stone temple was being built in the center of the town, but for what purpose the traders had no idea. Draydon was no longer a good place to go, and most traders were starting to avoid it. Too many people had gone to Draydon, but very few managed to come back out.

Lynol was afraid to contemplate what the temple might signify. On numerous occasions before tonight, she had sensed a significant shift of the energy lines, as if some powerful force was bending them and using them for its own sinister purposes. Lynol knew it was this sorceress using her powers to control what was happening in Draydon. This other sorceress seemed so powerful and knowledgeable. It made Lynol feel even more helpless.

Lynol had finally told her father about the other sorceress. She also explained what she could sense of this other sorceress’s abilities. Her father asked numerous questions about how Lynol knew all of this. Lynol explained how she could use her mind to search out Gilmreth and how she could feel when someone was tapping into the energy currents necessary to cast a spell.

Lynol went on to tell her father the other sorceress was trying to wake Gilmreth. He had been furious at this news. That Gilmreth was destined to someday wake was part of the prophecy, but to discover someone would dare to awaken the dragon on purpose was beyond imagining. Lynol didn’t tell her father about the prophecy at the sacrificial altar. She knew that would frighten and concern him even more. For now, that little trip would remain a secret.

Her father, after talking with Lynol, had taken a long walk outside. Lynol knew he was disappointed she hadn’t confided in him much earlier and had been keeping secrets from him. When he had returned, he acted as if nothing had happened other than to encourage Lynol to work harder on her studies.

Several times a week, she made the short trip to see Dresdia and Kalvin; both were highly interested in her progress with sorcery, imploring Lynol to demonstrate some of the spells she had learned. Kalvin had been strangely silent recently. Lynol suspected he feared for her safety. The prophecy at the site of the sacrificial altar had frightened him. It had scared her also when she finally accepted that she was the Sylvar sorceress mentioned.

With Kalvin’s knowledge of the stories he had heard from his father and Damon, she knew he understood the future that awaited her. Kalvin also had very deep feelings for Lynol. He hadn’t broadcast them out in the open, but nevertheless Lynol knew they were there. Lynol strongly suspected his summer crush had turned into something more, something much more! It made her feel excited and tingly inside, but it also frightened her a little.

Dresdia had really been impressed when Lynol had used her abilities to get WhiteStorm to follow her around, allowing her to lead him about, and getting the colt to run and stop on command. Dresdia was thrilled that her father, under Damon’s encouragement, had decided to keep the rapidly growing colt.

The Gor’s garden, as well as their own, was resplendent with unusually heavy growth, as Lynol had woven a spell encouraging plant growth as well as healthy plants. This spell, while slower than the one she had failed with tonight, had worked flawlessly. The produce they were reaping from their gardens was nearly four times normal, with much of it being traded at the Mystol’s store in Galvin.

It was all Lynol and her father could do to keep their garden weeded and harvested. Lynol still hadn’t found a spell that would allow the vegetables to grow and not the weeds. She had developed a very definite detestation of weeds. They seemed to grow even faster than the vegetables!

All the fresh vegetables Damon and Aldin were now bringing in twice a week had pleasantly surprised Tohm and Gwen Mystol. Damon and Aldin had explained the sudden influx of vegetables as the result of planting much larger gardens than normal.

From what Lynol had overheard from her father and Tohm, Addison’s hate was also growing from jealousy as business at the Mystols was booming from lower prices with the influx of fresh vegetables from the Gor and Sylvar farms. Addison had been voicing his complaints regularly at the village tavern. Fortunately, the lower prices and the sudden abundant food discouraged anyone, other than his closest cronies, from siding with the belligerent man.

Lynol had finally demonstrated her abilities to Dresdia’s parents so as not to worry them about the sudden, abnormal growth of their garden. Aldin hadn’t been too surprised, only nodded and smiled as if he had been expecting this. His wife, on the other hand, had been shocked, and it had taken several days for her to understand that her garden crops were growing at nearly four times their normal rate.

Kalvin and Dresdia had also acted surprised, not wanting their parents or Damon to know that they already knew about Lynol and her abilities. Kalvin had just smiled, knowing taking care of the garden would be even more work for him, but he knew it was for the better. It gave them more money to put back as well as helped the people in Galvin. The Gors had promised to keep Lynol’s abilities a secret lest the village people learn of them before she was ready to reveal herself.

-

Shaking herself out of her reverie, Lynol stepped off the porch and walked slowly down the moonlit stone path toward the beckoning Sylvar Stone. The full moon seemed to cause the dark stone to glow with its own inner transcendental light. The moon had almost reached its zenith, making the remaining snow on the mountains to the west shine and glisten with its reflected light.

Reaching the massive stone, Lynol walked slowly around it, her passing rustling the tall protective grass. Lynol contemplated what she was about to do. The vision had haunted her nearly every waking moment for two long months. It seemed to become clearer with each passing night as the time for the rising of the full moon neared. Was it truly a vision, or had it been a product of her imagination, of her desire to learn sorcery? Had Malcon Sylvar somehow left her a message, perhaps a way to deal with Gilmreth? She hoped so. If Gilmreth was about to awaken, then all of her hopes might lay with a sorcerer dead for many long generations.

Glancing upwards, she saw the moon was nearly overhead. Walking back to the front of the stone, she stood next to the handprint, waiting and wondering if anything at all was going to happen. She stepped back, startled, as the handprint suddenly took on a life of its own, becoming covered in a bright, eerie blue glow. The glow slowly spread until the entire stone was alight with a brilliant blue radiance, lighting up the entire area of the stone ruins.

“This is it,” Lynol spoke, feeling nervous. Steadying herself, she stepped forward, pressing her hand determinedly against the cold glowing imprint. Visualizing the image of Malcon Sylvar, which was imprinted in her mind, she softly said his name aloud. “Malcon Sylvar.”

She didn’t know what to expect if anything. She knew her entire future might be decided by what happened next. She waited expectantly, praying that her vision from several months back would reappear and tell her what to do. Malcon Sylvar was her only hope of survival.

The Sylvar Stone began to shudder and vibrate. Lynol jerked her hand away from the handprint and the glow around the stone brightened even further. It seemed to pulsate. A sudden, chill wind blew across the scattered stones, whipping the grass. The crickets in the garden became eerily quiet. Lynol held her arms across her breasts, shivering at the sudden, unexpected chill.

The massive Sylvar Stone itself began to change. An opening suddenly formed magically before her, part of the stone itself seeming to vanish, and she saw steps leading down deep into the ground disappearing into the darkness below. The chill air seemed to be drawn toward the opening and down into the darkness.

Lynol’s eyes widened. She stared in stunned amazement at the doorway which now stood invitingly open before her in the fading glow from the Sylvar Stone, which abruptly died away. The chill wind died down and was gone. With burning curiosity, Lynol looked down at the captivating steps, the first few dimly lit by the pale moonlight.

She had expected some type of message, but nothing like this! This had to be important; something Malcon had kept hidden away with his sorcery all these long centuries. Lynol wondered if she should go back up to the house and get her father so they could both explore what was below together. She hesitated, and then realized this was something she needed to do right now! This was something meant for her and her only.

Lynol forced herself to take the first hesitant step into the doorway and began slowly descending. Carefully she walked down, counting the steps until she had reached fifty. It was dark and Lynol had to feel for each step cautiously with her foot, her left hand touching the wall beside her. There was no sound except her tentative footsteps and rapid breathing.

I should have brought a lantern she thought, nervously peering into the darkness before her. How was she going to be able to see anything? As she took the next step, she sensed she had arrived at the bottom. The dim moonlight failed to penetrate this far. Lynol stood in absolute darkness, unsure of what to do next. She felt a little foolish standing there.

In the center of the room, a nebulous blue light suddenly flickered. The light swelled up to reveal the figure of an older, mature man standing upon a raised dais. It was the same enigmatic figure who had appeared in her visions at the Sylvar Stone up above. His feet were braced apart under a fine robe of white silk with a blue dragon insignia upon both shoulders. His blue eyes seemed to stare deeply into her innermost self; his outreached hands flickered with lambent fire. A quick gesture and braziers on the walls suddenly ignited with a cool, smokeless, magical flame. They cast their dim, yellow glow throughout the large stone walled room.

Lynol gasped and looked about the room in wonder. It was much larger than she had thought. Incredulously, she saw that one entire wall was covered with shelves reaching upwards to the high ceiling. They were crammed with more books and scrolls than she had ever seen or even imagined could be in one place. Lynol blinked in surprise as she looked about. There were other strange artifacts setting on tables and benches around the room whose purposes she couldn’t ascertain.

The glowing figure laughed his voice strong and vibrant. His long fingers flicked infinitesimally and as they did so, ensconced white candles on the walls flared and hot wax rippled slowly down to harden beneath, adding their light to the room. Then he stopped and gazed at Lynol expectantly.

“Who are you?” Lynol stammered, too stunned to breathe.

There was a long pause, and Lynol drew a sharp, deep breath as she waited for an answer. She didn’t know if there would be a response or not. This was beyond her wildest expectations. This room had been hidden beneath the Sylvar Stone for all these years and no one had suspected. She knew without a doubt what this hidden room had to be: Malcon’s hidden cache of sorcery information and secret place of study. It had been here all along, within easy walking distance of the house!

Another gesture and beside him appeared a beautiful vision, a fleeting one now in a flowing white robe, now in cut off jeans and blouse; a beautiful young girl who, before she vanished, turned for a long last mournful look at Lynol. A deep sadness reflected in her baleful light blue eyes.

“Approach the second dais,” the man’s voice rang out clearly and commandingly as the apparition turned in the blue light and pointed to a spot near it.

Looking to where the glowing chimerical specter pointed, Lynol saw a small stone table raised on another dais next to the apparition. Lynol felt a droplet of cold perspiration trickle down her back and as she tried to calm herself. She forced a neutral expression upon her face and strode forward, trying not to show any fear.

On the table lay an object covered by a fine white silk cloth. It was cleverly embroidered and covered with intertwined arcane symbols. As Lynol cautiously approached, it began to shimmer with a pale white light, which was not a reflection. Hesitantly reaching out she removed the cloth, drawing in a deep awestruck breath. She stared captivated at the glowing amulet revealed. It appeared to be a perfect white pearl, gold-set and hung on a finely crafted golden chain. It was simple, yet elegant. Lynol held her breath in amazement. It was beautiful! The pearl was slightly larger than her thumbnail.

Lynol picked it up, encircling it in her closed hand and momentarily containing the light, feeling the vibrant warmth that radiated magically from it. Opening her hand, she gathered up the golden chain so that the amulet rested protectively among its waiting coils like a small egg. She gazed back at the spectral figure, her blue eyes wide with wonder and full of unanswered questions.

“You must learn to try harder. You must discipline yourself. You must learn to concentrate if you are to face Gilmreth!” the mysterious figure said with conviction and a measure of inner strength. “Your failures in your studies have been due to a lack of focus, a lack of intensity in what you were trying to do, not from a lack of power or ability!”

Looking into the face of the man in the blue light, Lynol asked again. “Who are you, and what is this place? What do you know of Gilmreth? How do you know about my studies?” A wrinkle of curiosity touched Lynol’s face. Her mind was full of a thousand questions screaming out to be answered. For some reason, all feelings of fear had vanished. She knew she was perfectly safe in this room, that this glowing mysterious figure would never harm her.

The figure hesitated briefly, staring at Lynol, the man’s eyes locking with hers. “This is your place of learning, and I will be your teacher. I am Malcon Sylvar.”

For a long moment, silence held the room captive, the glowing figure staring benevolently, almost expectantly at Lynol, waiting for her response. She stared back uncomprehendingly. What he had said was impossible!

“Malcon Sylvar!” she stammered feeling confused, her face turning pale. “That cannot be! Malcon died over a thousand years ago when he wove the sleeping spell that even now holds Gilmreth captive beneath Firestorm Mountain!”

The lofty figure stared down, a look of unprecedented sadness flickering gently across his glowing face. Memories of ancient times, of past deeds, of people who had long since faded to dust, and a daughter he hadn’t been able to save.

“I am Malcon Sylvar, or at least that part of him that could be preserved by this device of the ancients,” the glowing figure replied. “I am a simulacrum, a facsimile of what Malcon once was. All of his knowledge and memories are contained in this dais. Malcon found this device in an ancient underground ruin from the Golden Age. It had been preserved in a sealed vacuum, along with other strange mechanisms. He contrived to bring it here to his storage cache and study room. This room has also been kept in a sealed vacuum to preserve its contents until they were needed once again. A special spell has protected this room so nothing would age.”

“Why?” Lynol demanded a stir of excitement and anticipation prickling the back of her neck.

Everything seemed so unreal. It was as if she was in a dream. She was afraid that, at any moment, she might wake up. She knew she was having a hard time grasping everything around her and believing what she was hearing.

“Why save and preserve all of this? There hasn’t been a sorcerer in the family since Malcon’s time,” asked Lynol, looking at the figure standing close to her on the dais. “I am the first and only Sylvar in generations who has possessed any of the ancient sorcery powers.” The apparition only continued to stare at her knowingly as if waiting for her to continue.

Lynol stood enthralled, gazing at the shimmering figure of Malcon Sylvar. She realized here at last might be the key to mastering her fledgling sorcery powers. In this room was the knowledge she had been so desperately searching for. She could barely contain her rising excitement with the sudden hope and dawning realization of what this amazing discovery might mean.

“Why did Malcon store himself in this dais?” she asked at last, not understanding how such a miraculous thing could be done. To actually be standing here talking to Malcon Sylvar, the greatest sorcerer to have ever lived, was incredible.

Lynol took a deep breath, staring at the glowing figure. She wanted to race back up the stairs and get her father but her feet refused to move. She was too enthralled by where she was and who was standing before her. Please don’t let this be a dream, she thought intensely. I must have a teacher if I am to learn to be a sorceress. This may be my only hope.

“When Malcon returned from one of his long journeys, he found his home in ruins. The huge stones had been ripped from their foundation, the poisonous scourge of dragon fire defacing the ground above, his daughter Lys carried off by his ancient foe Gilmreth,” the glowing figure said sadly with what looked like a tear coming from his right eye. “After Malcon failed to destroy the dragon, he spent weeks going through the information contained in the books and scrolls his family had gathered throughout the ages. In one, he found a vague reference about the possible location of the final home of a sorcerer who had escaped the purges of the Armageddon of the Golden Age. This sorcerer, Ramael, supposedly helped create the dragons.”

“That’s where he found the sleeping spell,” Lynol interjected quietly, staring at Malcon’s glowing figure. This confirmed her father’s story.

“Yes,” the glowing specter replied with a slight nod. “Malcon found a powerful spell that would put Gilmreth to sleep. Malcon had a powerful amulet, but even that couldn’t prevail against the dragon. He was forced to sacrifice his own life to entrap Gilmreth in the sleeping spell. Part of the spell he wove against Gilmreth harnessed the energy currents near the mountain. Malcon knew that, for generations, sorcery would be constrained in the close proximity of Firestorm Mountain. Only with the weakening of the sleeping spell or the emergence of a very powerful sorcerer or sorceress would the power lines be freed to allow sorcery to return to this part of the world. Malcon stored his memories and knowledge in this simulacrum, knowing that someday Gilmreth would awaken and a new sorceress would have to be trained.”

“What about this amulet; is it Malcon’s?” asked Lynol, holding the chain and letting the white pearl hang surrounded by its golden circle, glowing with a baleful white light.

“No, that amulet belonged to Lys,” the glowing figure replied with a gentle, sad smile. “Malcon retrieved it from the dragon’s lair before their final confrontation. It’s a tremendously powerful amulet. At the time of Lys’ death, it was almost as powerful as the one Malcon possessed.”

“Lys,” whispered Lynol, running her finger gently over the white pearl, marveling at its cool surface and the gentle glow that came from within. “That was the figure you showed me earlier; that was Lys!” Her features clouded at the realization, and a single tear ran down her cheek.

“Yes,” Malcon replied, gazing thoughtfully at Lynol with a sad, mournful smile. “The amulet has been under my protection for all this time. This room was shielded and protected from the loss of the power by a device of the ancients. For all these years, I have focused a minute amount of energy into Lys amulet, making it stronger and stronger. The more energy that is focused into an amulet and the more often it is used causes the amulet to bond with the energy currents, dramatically increasing its strength.”

“That’s why my amulet is becoming easier to use,” Lynol said softly, pulling her small sapphire out from beneath her blouse.

“Yes,” replied Malcon, gazing curiously at Lynol’s amulet. “Lys’ amulet has been conditioned over the years to the point where it may be nearly as powerful as the legendary Stone of Loraine. You must be extremely careful when you use it. It could be extremely dangerous if stringent mental control isn’t maintained and could cause serious harm if used improperly.”

Lynol returned the amulet to its resting place, covering it once again with the small silk cloth, marveling at the shrewd complexity of the handiwork of the symbols and their interaction with each other. It must truly be powerful if Malcon cautioned against its use.

“You said you were going to be my teacher,” said Lynol, gazing into the blue eyes of Malcon. “Where do we begin?”

“So much like Lys,” the figure said, recalling an earlier student who had also been so full of curiosity and life. “Your studies will begin now and continue daily. They will be grueling and difficult. Gilmreth will not take another Sylvar sorceress; this time things will be different.” He looked at Lynol and part of a smile touched his mouth. “Where do we begin, my dear? Why, at the beginning of course; where else?”

Chapter Eight

Standing upon the balcony of her new living quarters, Jalene stared with mesmerized satisfaction at the towering white edifice that climbed upward toward the stars from the center of Draydon. For many long, tedious months, workers had slaved away night and day, driven on to ever greater effort by Jalene’s demoniacal desire to see her great temple completed. Ruthlessly, she had forced the people to work in harsh conditions, only stopping long enough to eat, drink, and sleep for a few precious hours.

Many had fallen exhausted, some had even died, but Jalene had merely conscripted more work recruits from the outlying areas. Only twice had she been forced to delay work by a single day. Both times the heat had been overwhelming, bringing work to a stop. Once the heat abated, the workers returned to the frantic pace of construction she demanded.

Now, finally, it was done! The white stone temple rose majestically one hundred feet above the ground, its massive base four hundred feet on each side. The top of the pyramid was dominated by a flat platform two hundred feet across, marred only by the four large, stone dragons, which sat staring out over the huge square before the temple. Brilliant red rubies served as the dragons’ eyes, glowing threateningly red in the reflected light from the burning torches that lit the temple.

“Milady, the great temple is finished,” a tall man in a red robe, inlaid with gold along its edges, reported detachedly. “Everything is just as you requested.”

This was the man Jalene had chosen to become her high priest. His powerful form and the cold, expressionless cast of his face would serve her well. Jalene had scoured Draydon and the surrounding towns seeking men to serve obediently as her priests and guards at the temple. Storn Daes, the man in front of her, had qualified adequately for High Priest. The man had no qualms, was ruthless, and obeyed Jalene without question. She found he would do what she wanted even without her sorcery to compel him. He had done a magnificent job completing the temple.

“Already, the first sacrifices have been selected and are being prepared in the temple,” Daes reported in a cold, emotionless voice, standing next to Jalene and staring out at the great temple.

It was night, and dozens of large, strategically placed burning torches lit the temple. The flickering yellow light cast shadows across the huge square before it and upon the temple itself.

“It’s time then,” Jalene said with a sinister smile, relishing the moment, realizing her time had finally arrived.

She gazed coldly past the temple toward the darkened peaks of Firestorm Mountain lying quiescently beneath the stars and pale quarter moon, feeling her rising excitement. She pictured the dragon sleeping beneath. Her dragon! For tonight would bring about the rising of the dragon. Gilmreth would return to the world!

“Awaken the great dragon, Milady,” the priest said tonelessly, bowing down on his knees in humble submission. “Let your reign begin. Summon the great dragon Gilmreth so the people can truly see your power.”

Jalene gazed down piercingly at Storn, relishing his desire to please. “Arise Storn, and tell the other priests to prepare for the coming of the dragon,” Jalene commanded with a callous voice, turning away from the priest and gazing back toward Firestorm Mountain, her eyes glowing black in unbridled anticipation. “Summon the people to the temple, and prepare the first Feast of the Dragon!”

“As you command, Milady,” replied Daes, rising and leaving her apartment to finish the preparations for what was soon to come.

-

For another hour, Jalene waited in her living quarters, giving Daes the necessary time to finish the final preparations. Walking back out onto the balcony of the lavish suite of rooms she had taken over and remodeled, she stared out fervently at the city.

The furnishings in her quarters were like those of a Queen. The wood on every chair and table was oiled to a shine. The carpets were rich underfoot and costly tapestries hung from the walls. Her gaze wandered across the city, which she controlled with an iron grip. She had totally enslaved its people, using her near omnipotent powers to subjugate its populace. The few that resisted had been tortured and killed in public floggings, which the workers had been forced to watch. That had quelled further unrest.

Now Jalene was obeyed without question. The public officials and businessmen were nothing more than mere puppets, totally under her control and catering to her every whim. Walking back into the spacious, thickly carpeted room, she strode over to the heavy glass case in its center.

Within the sealed case, the Stone of Loraine sat glowing softly in the bright yellow light from the burning oil lamps placed strategically around the room. The large red ruby of the scepter was casting a spectral glow of its own. It reeked with dormant power, waiting for Jalene to fulfill her destiny and awaken the dragon Gilmreth! A protective spell woven by her prevented anyone else from being able to touch the glass case and live. No one but Jalene could touch the Stone of Loraine!

A quick gesture with one hand and a flickering of nebulous red light appeared instantly at her fingertips. She cast the simple pattern at the case and made it safe to touch. Removing the top of the glass case, she took out the heavy scepter, which held the softly glowing stone. Walking to a massive oak table, Jalene laid the scepter down.

Opening her old sorcery book to the dragon spell she paused, savoring the moment. For weeks now, she had resisted using her sorcery, building up her strength for this eventful moment. Everything she wanted, everything she desired, was about to come to fruition this night. Jalene’s breathing increased and her heart beat faster from the anticipation of what she was about to do.

In minutes, she put together the necessary ingredients for this final incantation. Nodding to herself with a wanton look upon her face, she prepared for this final illicit act. She began the incantation. With the small, sharp spell knife, she made a shallow incision on her left wrist, watching her warm red blood drip slowly into the small copper bowl beneath. The ingredients, when mixed with her blood, began to bubble and steam. The final part of the incantation for the dragon spell rolled off her lips, its pattern woven tightly in the red energy lines which pervaded the room. Finishing the incantation, she took up the scepter, its crimson ruby glowing hotly from the power of the harnessed spell. Walking back out onto the balcony, Jalene pointed the Stone of Loraine toward distant Firestorm Mountain. Sending the woven pattern of the spell forth and backed by the stone, she summoned Gilmreth.

“Come Gilmreth, I am waiting for you,” she murmured softly, pointing the scepter at the distant mountain. “Arise and come to me!”

-

A bright red light flashed instantaneously out from the stone striking the mountain. It penetrated into the dark depths of Firestorm Mountain, seeking the deadly creature that had slept beneath for untold generations. The red light searched for and then found Gilmreth, cutting through the sleeping spell like a knife through butter, striking the dragon!

It found and clung to the dragon’s slumbering form. Gilmreth became encompassed in a red radiance, which glowed ever brighter and brighter as the energy pattern fought to break the weakened sleeping spell. The deep underground lair was lit up brightly by an ethereal light, which hauntingly surrounded the dragon. The small fish in the silent pool dove down deep into its protective depths trying to escape the invading light.

The red radiance grew brighter and brighter. The powerful radiance was drawing on the weakened sleeping spell itself to enhance the deadly pattern that was shimmering around Gilmreth. Inexorably, the sleeping spell gave way, giving up the last of its remaining energy. The deadly radiance was destroying the spell that had held Gilmreth captive for so long!

With cataclysmic implications, the sleeping spell shattered, its last tenuous threads ripped apart, freeing completely the mind of Gilmreth. The red radiance faded its diabolical work complete. The massive cave was left once more in impenetrable darkness. The only sounds in the cave were the occasional sound of dripping water striking the small pool and the labored breathing of the now waking dragon.

Through the Stone of Loraine, Jalene felt the sleeping spell break. Seizing the moment, her fingers and hands wove a quick, complicated pattern in the air. When she felt she was ready, she reached out with her mind toward Gilmreth. Upon the slowly waking thoughts of the dragon, she impressed the spell that would make Gilmreth her willing slave.

This was the same spell the sorcerers of the Golden Age had used to control the other dragons when they were first created. They hadn’t used the Stone of Lorraine to try to control Gilmreth because they hadn’t realized the dragon’s awesome power until too late. Jalene’s triumph was a shrill scream, inarticulate, as her mind touched that of the dragons. She felt the spell take hold of the dragon’s mind, and Gilmreth was hers!

In the dark lair beneath Firestorm Mountain, Gilmreth slowly stirred. Ponderously, the dragon opened both of its eyes to stare out hungrily at the darkness that surrounded it. For the first time in ages, the mighty dragon rose languidly to its feet, its long spiked tail curling about to balance Gilmreth nearly upright. Swinging his massive head slowly around the lair, Gilmreth’s yellow-red eyes glowed with a pale inner flame greatly diminished from hunger.

Opening his mouth, the dragon roared loudly as he let out his anger at his long imprisonment. Bright red flames arched into the air, scorching the distant wall. The tumultuous disturbance sent the feeding fishes in the quiescent pool fleeing back down toward its dark protective depths once more. In his weakened mind, Gilmreth sensed a summons, a promise of food to feed his ravenous appetite, of victims waiting to feed the growing hunger that was raging throughout his body.

Flexing his lethargic muscles, Gilmreth took to the air, his mighty wings spreading to beat against the air in the dragon’s lair. In scant moments, Gilmreth was hurling his massive weight down the long tunnel toward the sorceress who summoned him. Reaching the partially blocked exit, a quick blast of his fiery breath exploded the rocks and boulders sealing the entrance outward, freeing Gilmreth to climb up into the cool night air. Gilmreth launched himself into the dark night sky with powerful beats of his wings. A loud, defiant roar pierced the soundless night announcing the emergence of the dragon. Gilmreth was free!

-

“Oh God!” Lynol screamed wide-eyed, her studies interrupted and the spell she was weaving falling apart.

A cold, icy wind seemed to blow suddenly through the stone room swirling around Lynol. She shivered violently as if icy fingers were moving down her back and closing about her throat. For several long moments, she couldn’t say or do anything as she felt the other sorceress’ massive spell crush the sleeping spell, which had held Gilmreth for untold generations.

A cold hand seemed to clutch at her heart, constricting her chest. Her mind recoiled in shock from the sudden blind hate radiating from Firestorm Mountain as Gilmreth emerged from his lair and flew up into the night. Even through the shielded walls of the underground crypt she could sense the rising of the dragon and the tremendous power of the sorcery, which was being used to awaken and control Gilmreth.

“What is it?” Malcon asked with concern in his voice, seeing the sudden distress his young student was in, his glowing spectral figure seeming to brighten.

Over the last several months, Lynol and the glowing specter had become very close. However, Malcon’s power was limited to this underground crypt. His power was furnished by the ancient dais beneath him and special receptors built into the thick stone walls. Malcon could sense very little beyond the Sylvar Stone and the stone ruins scattered above.

“It’s Gilmreth; the other sorceress has awakened the dragon!” Lynol cried in shock and dismay, her mind reeling from the foul emotions coming from the mountain. Her breath was coming so fast she could barely speak.

The amount of power that had been unleashed beneath Firestorm Mountain had shaken her. Her sorcery didn’t even begin to compare. She knew she wasn’t ready to face this type of power; she began to feel dizzy and faint. The rising of the dragon was too soon, way too soon! What could they do?

“Remove your mind from the dragon’s, immediately!” Malcon warned with a hint of worry in his normally well-controlled voice. “We don’t want Gilmreth or the other sorceress to sense your presence. The dragon and this sorceress must not learn of your existence!”

Releasing her light touch from Gilmreth’s deranged mind, Lynol stared wide-eyed toward Malcon’s glowing figure. Her mind filled with the horrifying implications of Gilmreth’s sudden awakening. This they hadn’t been expecting. Under Malcon’s careful tutelage, she had explored the weakening strength of the sleeping spell that held Gilmreth. They had both believed it would be several more years at the earliest before it collapsed completely. They hadn’t counted on this sudden influx of power from the other sorceress against the spell. She had never used anything this powerful before.

“Gilmreth’s thoughts were so horrid!” exclaimed Lynol, feeling as if she had been soiled and violated from the brief mental contact of the dragon’s fully awakened mind. The sheer brutality and the ravenous hunger radiating from the dragon had been horrible.

“The dragon will be weak and hungry, its mind focused on feeding,” Malcon stated tersely, remembering his own troubled times and knowing what was soon to come.

“Where will the dragon go? Should we warn the villagers?” Lynol had prayed that it would be many long years yet before the dragon awoke. She could scarcely believe the other sorceress had actually succeeded in awakening Gilmreth, but she had.

“No,” replied Malcon, looking grimly at Lynol. “This other sorceress has summoned Gilmreth. We know she has taken up residence in Draydon. She must be truly powerful to be able to break the sleeping spell so easily and risk summoning the dragon.”

“But how?” asked Lynol, looking anxiously at Malcon. “How can she have such power to break the sleeping spell? We thought it would be several years yet before the spell weakened to the point she could destroy it.”

“To be able to shatter the spell so completely is a mystery,” Malcon replied, his eyebrows rising in thought. “She is much more powerful than I believed possible. If she controls such power, then we have to be extremely cautious. If she can actually control the dragon she will be very dangerous, and to control Gilmreth will take tremendous power indeed!”

“But where is the dragon going?” asked Lynol, worriedly. She was afraid the dragon was going hunting, searching for humans to feed upon. For a brief moment, she worried about Dresdia and Kalvin. Dresdia would really be frightened when she found out that Gilmreth had awakened.

“We know this sorceress has been using the subjugated populace in Draydon to build a temple,” the simulacrum replied, shaking his head worriedly. His blue eyes focused on Lynol. “I fear the temple may have other loathsome uses besides worship of their new leader.”

“Sacrifices!” Lynol gasped, her jaw dropping as she realized what Malcon was implying. “She is going to sacrifice virgins to Gilmreth just as they did at the sacrificial altar at the base of Firestorm Mountain! She plans on controlling Gilmreth with sacrifices!” Lynol felt sickened with the realization of what the other sorceress was going to do, what she was willing to do to appease the dragon. Lynol felt her heart racing as she realized the calamity that was about to befall Draydon.

“Yes,” Malcon replied, his eyes seeking out and holding Lynol’s light blue ones. “That is what I believe. If she can furnish suitable sacrifices for the dragon and use her sorcery upon Gilmreth as well, she might be able to control the dragon.”

“Can she really hope to control Gilmreth?” asked Lynol, looking at Malcon’s glowing figure. “Is it possible?”

“We know that, during the Golden Age, the sorcerers had a method to control the dragons and force them to do their bidding,” Malcon replied with a slight nod. “We also know that no one ever managed to control Gilmreth; he was too powerful. Somehow, she has found the power to do so, or so she believes.”

“But if Gilmreth was never controlled how can she possibly hope to, even with the sacrifices?” asked Lynol, wondering what untold terrors this night would bring forth in distant Draydon.

Knowing Gilmreth’s history and the horror this other sorceress seemed capable of, Lynol shuddered at the thought of what might be about to transpire in that far off town. She wondered if the inhabitants of Draydon knew what was about to befall them.

“There may be a way, but that would involve the Stone of Loraine,” Malcon’s simulacrum replied with a worried frown crossing his face.

“The Stone of Loraine? My father mentioned that once,” Lynol responded, trying to recall what he had said about the powerful amulet. “Would it be powerful enough?”

“The original sorcerers were never able to use the stone against Gilmreth,” Malcon replied. “If somehow this sorceress has managed to find it and gain control of it, then she may indeed be able to impress her will upon Gilmreth. In addition, if she is making sacrifices to the dragon, furnishing him with sustenance, it might be just enough to sway Gilmreth to obey her. It may give her control for a time, or for as long as the dragon chooses.”

“The Stone of Loraine,” Lynol said worriedly with a flare of dismay in her light blue eyes. “That would explain the incredible power she has displayed. But I thought it was destroyed in the Worldfire.”

“As did I,” Malcon replied somberly, knowing that if the Stone of Loraine were involved it would make everything magnitudes more difficult. “But if I’m correct and she does indeed possess it, plus gains control of Gilmreth, then we have a tremendous, nearly insurmountable, challenge ahead of us.”

“Then all is lost!” spoke Lynol, seeing everything she loved falling before Gilmreth. They wouldn’t be able to stop the dragon, not if the sorceress had the legendary amulet.

“Possession of the Stone of Loraine would explain her unbelievable power,” Malcon’s glowing figure replied. “Don’t despair, Lynol. Remember; Lys’ amulet has also become tremendously powerful, perhaps as powerful as the Stone of Loraine. When you are ready, you will begin using Lys’ amulet and the power it contains will be yours. We must wait and bide our time, for all is not yet lost. We just need to be extremely careful and patient.”

Leaning back in her chair, Lynol stared somberly at Malcon. She glanced over at the delicate cloth, which covered and shielded Lys’ amulet. For months, they had worked together putting in long, arduous hours honing and developing Lynol’s growing skills. Already many of the spells in Malcon’s book had become easy to weave.

Malcon had been impressed with Lynol’s latent abilities and self-discipline, saying they were on a par with the potential Lys had once shown. Under Malcon’s strict tutelage, Lynol was rapidly making progress into becoming a sorceress, but she still had a long ways to go.

With Malcon’s patient instructions and explaining the spells in more depth, Lynol had found it so much easier to learn. Even now, after all these months, she still hadn’t been allowed to use Lys’ amulet. Malcon said she still wasn’t ready to handle such awesome power. In the future, she would be, and when she was, Lys’ powerful amulet would be hers.

Lynol had also brought her father down into the crypt to meet Malcon’s simulacrum. She had done that the very same night she had discovered the hidden underground room.

Damon had been in a daze as he had looked around and Malcon’s simulacrum had finally spoken to him. Damon himself had spent many long hours talking to Malcon since then. He had been duly impressed and stunned at what Malcon had been able to tell him about the family’s remote history. Damon could scarcely believe that Malcon’s secret sanctuary had been here all along.

Lynol also suspected her father was intensely relieved that she had a teacher who could actually teach her sorcery properly. Other than her father, no one else knew what lay beneath the massive Sylvar Stone. Kalvin and Dresdia hadn’t even been let in on her amazing new secret, even though she knew at some point in time they might have to be. For the crypt, beneath the Sylvar Stone, was still protected against Gilmreth. The dragon couldn’t detect the crypt or anyone who was sheltered within. Lynol let out a heavy sigh; very soon she would have to go to the house and tell her father that Gilmreth was free.

-

In distant Draydon, Jalene stood dressed in a flowing low cut black dress trimmed in crimson red at the top of her temple. Four red robed priests stood motionless directly behind her. Torchlight flickered and popped above the temple. Around it, multitudes of furtive, restless people stood expectantly. They were not sure what was about to happen, having been roused out of their homes by Jalene’s demanding temple guards.

The temple square throbbed with a cacophony of voices from the crowd as the tired populace looked up at Jalene on the towering temple above them. They were waiting to see what new punishment she was about to rain down upon them. Their spirits were broken. They had lost all hope of resisting this harsh woman who held their wretched lives in the palms of her hands. The great temple was finally done. They had hoped they could rest, that their lives would return to normal, but the temple guards had roused them from their long awaited rest. Now what was she demanding? What new horror was she going to inflict?

The actions in front of the temple confused them. A great bank of fires lined the front of the temple where young boys turned whole calves on spits, along with sheep and pigs. Great casks of ale sat upon tables as well as wines and other fabulous beverages. It was a feast like the city had never seen before! The crowd swayed as they stared hungrily at the captivating food set before them. Many hadn’t eaten a proper meal in months.

Stepping to the edge of the temple’s platform, Jalene raised her hand and instant silence swept across the crowd. They looked up plaintively toward the enigmatic woman who had taken control of their lives.

“The great temple is finished,” she announced crisply, her voice ringing out commandingly, sweeping her arms about and pointing at the temple around and below her. “From this temple, I shall rule. Tonight will begin a new era for Draydon!” Pausing, Jalene let her scathing eyes roam the shifting crowd below, her mind sensing the rapidly nearing enforcer of her rule. A cold, calculating smile flashed briefly across her face. Soon these people would see the enforcer of her rule. They would know a new God!

“Behold the coming of Gilmreth, the last great dragon!” she screamed piercingly, her voice ringing out like iron across the crowd. “He shall be worshiped and enforce my rule! Behold the dragon!” she spoke again, raising her right hand and pointing up into the dark night sky where a dim, haunting shape could be discerned descending rapidly toward the temple.

Fear spread through the gathered throng as the massive shape flew in ever smaller circles. For several heart-stopping seconds they waited, not sure whether to run away in panic or stay where they were. A nightmarish form out of ancient legends was descending toward the top of the temple!

The populace recognized the ancient form of a dragon, something they all had believed were only stories in the old fables with no truth. They stirred nervously, fearful of the descending apparition and frightened of the cruel, heartless woman who stood upon the temple platform. Were they all about to die?

They all had heard the old legends about how Gilmreth had devastated the countryside and slaughtered everyone who had lived here many ages ago. Gilmreth was the most deadly creature ever to live and now the dragon was here, descending toward them. In captivating horror, the crowd trembled with terror in their eyes and souls, not sure what to do or where to run.

Raising her scepter high into the air, Jalene’s power hungry voice rang out. “Come Gilmreth, and partake of the feast we have prepared for you. Feed upon that which you so strongly desire!” Jalene’s eyes seemed to take on a haunting glow of their own as she watched the descending dragon.

Storn Daes gestured to two of his priests, and they stepped forward uneasily, a frightened, struggling young girl held tightly between them. Going to the edge of the sacrificial platform, which overlooked the crowd below, they locked iron manacles around the girl’s ankles. The shackles were set securely into the stone. They hurriedly completed their work, glancing furtively upward at the steadily descending, circling dragon. They stepped quickly back, leaving the frightened girl alone at the edge of the platform.

“Behold the sacrifice to Gilmreth; only those found pure of body and soul can appease the mighty dragon!” Jalene’s voice rang out, her face glowing with triumph as she gazed upwards at the descending dragon.

A horrid shriek split the crowd as a mother recognized her helpless daughter upon the platform. “Oh God, no!” she screamed, realizing what was about to happen. Not her daughter! “Somebody, please help her!” she pleaded, wringing her hands and looking desperately at the people around her.

In the flickering light of the burning torches, Gilmreth appeared, swooping downward to land upon the temple platform. His mighty head looked down upon the frightened crowd below, finally turning his yellow-red eyes to glare piercingly at Jalene, wondering if this was the human who had dared to summon him.

Jalene stood gazing unflinchingly at the dragon with the Stone of Loraine in her left hand. Her priests, trembling behind her, gazed in terror at the dragon and stepped backward very slowly, were wondering if this woman could actually control this creature. Only Storn Daes held his ground, his cold eyes unwavering as he stared at the dragon.

Very few of her priests had believed the dragon existed, and fewer had believed she could actually summon the creature. Now, here Gilmreth was, standing on the platform with them. Proof beyond doubt that the dragon did indeed exist, and Jalene’s stories were true.

“Feast upon the sacrifice I have brought you,” commanded Jalene, focusing the power of the Stone of Loraine on the dragon’s weakened, half-starved mind and body, causing a glowing red radiance to cover the dragon.

She impressed upon Gilmreth the will of her mind once more, binding him inexorably to her control with the Stone of Loraine. She could sense the hunger radiating from the dragon after centuries of starvation. She could feel the resistance in Gilmreth’s weakened mind to her demands.

The dragon didn’t want to be controlled. In his weakened state, he was finding it hard to resist Jalene and the magical stone she held. The red radiance grew brighter as Jalene used the power of the Stone of Loraine to bind the dragon to her will.

Looking down, Gilmreth sensed the fear radiating from the innocent young girl beneath him. The girl’s eyes were wide open in shock, and her face covered with horror. Driven by ravenous hunger, the dragon folded its wings slowly around its offered victim. The dragon’s head dipped hungrily downwards. For now, Jalene and the Stone of Loraine were in control. He would allow it.

“Help!” the young girl wailed in terror. She felt the dragon’s hot, acrid breath on her face, causing her to sway on her feet. She looked upward into the cold, unwavering eyes of the dragon and the dragon’s open mouth with its razor sharp teeth. She saw her imminent death.

One loud, blood-curdling scream, which cut off suddenly, spoke the fate of the young sacrifice. The crowd fell silent, stricken by the horror taking place at the top of the temple. Its wings, which formed a shield around it, hid the dragon’s fearsome head. A dim, nebulous red glow seemed to build up around the creature as it fed. The girl’s mother fainted as she realized what was happening to her daughter. She crumbled to the ground to lay there in shock, hysterical sobs racking her body.

At last, a partially satiated Gilmreth rose up to his full height and a loud bestial roar split the cool night air. Jets of red dragon flame poured out of the dragon’s mouth to challenge the night as Gilmreth felt the life renewing energy flow through his weakened veins. Only a small red smear upon the white stone marked the minuscule remains of Gilmreth’s feeding.

Gesturing to Storn Daes, Jalene had the second sacrifice brought out. This girl, a young, buxom blond, allowed herself to be led mutely to the manacles beneath Gilmreth, which were covered in blood. Gilmreth eyed the three, his hungry gaze focusing upon the young woman being led by the two priests.

Jalene, with the Stone of Loraine, continued to impress upon Gilmreth that as long as the dragon obeyed her wishes he would find plentiful supplies of food to feed his ravenous appetite.

Watching the priests attach the manacles to the girl’s ankles and then withdraw, Gilmreth bent his head to stare with large yellowish red eyes upon his victim. His fetid breath caused the girl to swoon and collapse in fear and shock at what stood above her.

The girl instinctively looked upward, her eyes going blank in terror from where she lay upon the hard, unyielding stone of the temple. In the last moments of her life, she slipped into mindless insanity.

Folding his wings, Gilmreth fed again. The crowd below was silent. They were simultaneously attracted and repelled at the same time by the gruesome scene being enacted on the temple platform above.

As soon as Gilmreth was finished feeding, he turned to stare at Jalene. Her priests stepped back even farther in fear except for Storn Daes, who stood expressionless directly behind Jalene, watching. Its mind more lucid, the dragon considered Jalene’s offer in its semi-intelligent brain. It understood the concept of cooperation; humans in the past had tried the same thing. As long as these humans furnished victims of purity Gilmreth would cooperate, failure to do so would bring overwhelming repercussions. In his primitive mind, Gilmreth agreed to Jalene’s demands. Turning to lie down upon the temple platform, Gilmreth gazed down at the stunned crowd below. For the moment, the dragon felt satiated, its burning hunger lessened.

Jalene walked over to Gilmreth to stand beside the dragon, the Stone of Loraine held protectively in her hands. The dragon was hers! For a moment, she gazed at the dragon. Here was the final piece in her plan to control Draydon and the people around it. Gilmreth lay before her in all of his awesome power and glory. She felt omnipotent at the power she now wielded.

“Behold Gilmreth, the great dragon, enforcer of the rule of the temple!” spoke Jalene, looking down at the silent crowd. “We will build a new, magnificent Draydon. People will be brought from all the surrounding towns and villages to worship and serve at my temple. Behold Gilmreth, behold the dragon, I am the Lady Jalene, ruler of Draydon!” Each individual in the crowd heard her words clearly, although her voice hadn’t been raised. Her voice carried clearly across the large square and the surrounding area.

Silence held the captivated crowd. Then, one of the temple guards shouted out. “Lady Jalene, conqueror of the dragon, Jalene! Jalene!” Others in the crowd picked up the chant, soon thousands of voices were raised shouting Jalene’s name.

On the temple platform, Jalene watched the scene, drinking in her domination of the populace, feeling all-powerful in her victory. Nothing could stand in her way now; with Gilmreth and the Stone of Loraine, the world was hers!

Tomorrow she would start gathering people from the surrounding area. Much work would have to be done to build her city. The stone quarry would have to be enlarged, a new road built to allow the heavy stones to be moved easier, fields freed of the old poison so the large population she envisioned could be fed. Yes, she had much to do, but the rewards in the end would be truly great. The world would be hers. She would rule that world from a magnificent city, the likes of which the world hadn’t seen since the Golden Age itself.

-

Lynol walked slowly over to the glowing figure of Malcon, her thoughts racing furiously. She tentatively reached out for the dragon, but she couldn’t sense him. Gilmreth was out of her range. Her ability seemed to be blocked from sensing much on the other side of the mountain for the moment. Perhaps the Stone of Loraine was shielding the other sorceress from Lynol.

“The dragon will be in Draydon by now,” Malcon spoke, his voice grim, a stoic look upon his face. “There is nothing we can do. The other sorceress and the dragon are beyond our reach and power. There is nothing we can do for the people of Draydon.”

“What are we going to do?” Lynol asked with an odd catch in her voice. “We both know that I’m not strong enough to face the dragon or this other sorceress.”

This was what Lynol had feared the most; what her haunting nightmares of recent had warned her of. Gilmreth was awake and she was powerless to stop the deadly creature. Their best hope had been that Lynol would become strong enough with sorcery so she could accost Gilmreth in his lair before he awoke. To take advantage of his weakness after a thousand years of sleep and further strengthen the sleeping spell so it would remain unbroken for another thousand years. Now those plans lay in shattered ruins.

“For now, nothing,” replied Malcon, folding his hands before him and gazing compassionately at his young student, knowing what she must be feeling. “We will gather information and try to learn what is happening in Draydon. But most of all, no one must learn of you and your abilities. It will be several long years before you are ready for that which is your destiny.”

“And we just let the dragon pillage and destroy everything during that time?” asked Lynol, feeling helpless.

She started to realize how Lys must have felt when her father had warned her not to take action against the dragon. It was strange how their lives were becoming so similar.

“We have no choice,” Malcon replied in a soft, compassionate voice. “To meet the dragon or the other sorceress too quickly spells certain doom. It will accomplish nothing and take away all hope. If we wait, our time will come and this scourge may finally be removed from our world.”

“But what will be left of our world if Gilmreth is allowed to roam free?” Lynol asked in a terribly worried and frightened voice. How many of her friends might have to die before she was ready to face the dragon? How was she going to explain all of this to Kalvin and Dresdia? Dresdia was going to panic when she found out the dragon was awake.

“We must wait!” Malcon said determinedly, his blue eyes meeting hers. “If this other sorceress does indeed control Gilmreth, then perhaps we may be given the time we need. She has built this great temple. I doubt that she seeks the total destruction of the human race. She may keep Gilmreth reigned in, at least for a while, perhaps long enough to complete your training.”

“Lys’ amulet; when can I start using it?” Lynol asked, her gaze wandering over to the other dais where the amulet still rested beneath its protective silk covering. She had been using her own amulet during her training, even though she suspected that Lys’ amulet was a thousand times more powerful.

“When you’re ready,” Malcon replied in that patient teaching tone he used so often. “Lys’ amulet, if used outside this room, would create a powerful disturbance in the energy currents, which might be detectable by the other sorceress. In addition, your own amulet is surprisingly strong. I have no rational explanation for its strength, but for now it will do very well.”

“Then teach me, help me understand my abilities!” Lynol demanded with a look of determination growing upon her young face. “We must complete my training as soon as possible.” She could hardly stand the thought of what must be occurring in Draydon, and she was powerless to stop it!

“The lessons shall continue,” replied Malcon, knowing the danger waiting in the nebulous future for his young student.

Malcon knew how uncertain that future would be. He knew how long it took to train a sorcerer, much more time than they probably had. Now, with the awakening of the dragon, they would have to come up with a new plan to defeat Gilmreth and eventually this other sorceress. He gazed at Lynol, recognizing her potential, and hoping fervently she would survive the dangers which lay in her future.

Chapter Nine

The following summer, Lynol, Dresdia, and Kalvin were swimming in the cool crystal clear waters of the pond, taking a day off to relax and enjoy each other’s company. When swimming together, both girls wore swimming suits that just covered the bare essentials. The day was unusually warm with a light breeze stirring the trees, and the pond felt very refreshing. Lynol was really enjoying the time off from her stringent studies.

Since Gilmreth had risen, she spent much of her time in Malcon’s crypt, studying. Her father had taken on more of her chores, giving her more time to spend with Malcon. Leisure time had vanished as she rushed to learn sorcery. Nevertheless, today Malcon had insisted Lynol take the day off to relax. He had explained very patiently to Lynol from his glowing dais that some leisure time was necessary to allow her to assimilate the knowledge she was gaining. Too much study without some relaxation could have disastrous effects, especially where sorcery was concerned.

Kalvin couldn’t help stealing occasional covert glances at Lynol in her wet skin-tight swimming suit. The minuscule strip of thin blue material across her now more than ample breasts left little to the imagination. Kalvin was extremely glad the water was so cool or he might feel embarrassed when he came out. He couldn’t help responding physically to Lynol’s tempting, captivating figure. He hoped she didn’t notice his occasional glances.

Sometimes he had a hard time looking at her face when they were talking. His eyes seemed to have a life of their own and wanted to wander to areas he knew he needed to avoid. What if Lynol noticed? God, he would just die! They hadn’t been able to spend much time together recently, and it had only made his longing for Lynol grow even stronger. Her figure had really filled out over the past year. Kalvin thought Lynol was absolutely gorgeous!

Out of the corner of her eye, Lynol had noticed where Kalvin’s eyes kept wandering. She stepped into deeper water, which came up to just above her breasts. His occasional looks made her feel giddy and tingly inside. She couldn’t decide how to respond to Kalvin’s obvious interest in her. She was still trying to figure out what her own feelings toward Kalvin were.

“Father says the people in Draydon are foolish to obey the sorceress the way they do,” said Dresdia, splashing water into Kalvin’s face, laughing as he began sputtering. That should cool him down a little, she thought.

She had noticed the occasional heated looks Kalvin stole at Lynol when he thought she wasn’t watching. Dresdia enjoyed tormenting Kalvin about his feelings for Lynol. Dresdia had noticed that Lynol seemed to be enjoying this new type of attention she was getting from Kalvin. She knew Lynol had noticed Kalvin’s cavort glances. Dresdia wasn’t quite sure what to make of Lynol’s reactions. Could Lynol actually have feelings for her brother?

“They have no choice,” replied Kalvin, circling his sister with the intention of ducking her at the first opportunity. “Anyone that refuses to cooperate will end up sacrificed to Gilmreth!”

“Gilmreth!” whispered Dresdia, glancing worriedly at Lynol, taking her watchful eyes briefly off Kalvin. “They are sacrificing people just like they did at the sacrificial altar all those long years ago. It’s horrible!”

Dresdia had tried extremely hard not to think about the ramifications Gilmreth’s waking must have had on Lynol. She hated thinking about the dragon anyway. Ever since Gilmreth had risen, her nightmares about the dragon had increased and intensified. Dresdia was fearful of what might happen should Lynol ever have to face the dragon. Lynol was her best friend and she greatly feared for her safety.

Even when Lynol came over to visit, Dresdia had been careful to talk only about the horses, the farm, or Kalvin. Those visits had been few and far between this past year. Dresdia had noticed that Lynol’s face always seemed to brighten up when the subject switched to Kalvin.

Lynol spotted Kalvin getting ready to splash an unsuspecting Dresdia. Taking a deep breath, she dove under the water and grasped Kalvin’s ankles. Pulling, she caused Kalvin to lose his balance, dragging him under easily. During the last year, Kalvin had really filled out, his muscles growing firmer from steady farm work. Lynol popped back up to the surface laughing and shaking her head to get the water out of her eyes.

Kalvin surfaced sputtering, turning to face both his sister and Lynol. “No fair; two against one!” he pleaded, holding up his hands in submission.

It seemed recently that the girls were always ganging up on him. He wished they could spend more time together. But Lynol’s studies occupied her nearly every day now. He spent a lot of his time thinking about Lynol and wondering how she felt about him. Girls were so hard to understand. He had been careful not to do anything Lynol might find offensive.

“Too bad,” Dresdia laughed teasingly, as both girls began splashing Kalvin with cascades of sparkling water.

Lynol smiled playfully. It was so much fun to torment Kalvin. She had really needed this. She could already feel how much more relaxed she was. The pressure from all of her studying had been weighing heavily on her recently, especially with what they knew or suspected was going on in Draydon.

Determinedly Kalvin lunged forward, grabbing both girls through their splashing, dragging them under amidst their screams and carefree laughter. Then, grabbing Dresdia while they were all three under, he pulled her tight against him. He planned to throw her high up into the air as they surfaced so she would make a big splash. She would make a resounding crash in the water he thought, satisfyingly. Plus, he knew she would be screaming loudly in protest.

Coming to the surface, he froze when he realized it was Lynol he held tightly instead of his sister. He became heatedly aware of Lynol’s breasts pressed softly into his chest and the look of stunned, embarrassed surprise on her face. For a moment, Kalvin continued to hold Lynol firmly, staring into her beautiful light blue eyes before he released her and stepped back.

“I thought you were Dresdia,” Kalvin stammered, his face flushing red.

Lynol smiled impishly, feeling slightly flushed from Kalvin’s unintentional embrace. His chest, arms, and hands had felt so strong. For some reason she hadn’t minded the contact, and it made her feel strangely warm inside.

“Sure you did,” Dresdia teased playfully. “You just wanted to grab Lynol! You’ve been staring at her breasts ever since we got here!”

“I have not!” Kalvin exclaimed, mortified that his sister had noticed. Even worse that she had mentioned it aloud where Lynol could hear.

Lunging desperately at his sister, he ducked her, holding her firmly beneath the water, finally letting her up sputtering and coughing. He glared threateningly at Dresdia, almost daring her to say anything else. How could she say something like that in front of Lynol?

Lynol watched the two, still feeling strangely excited about the way Kalvin had briefly held her. She had noticed his occasional glances at her breasts. They had all grown considerably closer the past year, especially since Dresdia and Kalvin were the only two, besides her father, who ever saw her practice sorcery. Occasionally they would come over and she would show them some of the more innocuous spells she had learned. Malcon felt it was excellent practice for her to demonstrate her sorcery skills in front of her friends.

Grasping her amulet, which was always around her neck, she concentrated briefly, making a few simple flickering gestures with the fingers of her right hand. The amulet glowed slightly, and a huge mound of water suddenly rose up and collapsed on top of Kalvin, sending him nearly all the way to the sandy bottom.

Struggling back to the surface, he looked sheepishly at Lynol. “Truce; I give up!”

“About time!” clamored Dresdia, laughing with a satisfied smile upon her face. “Lynol needed to cool you off anyway. Perhaps another big splash is needed.”

“You wouldn’t!” begged Kalvin, backing slowly away from the two smiling girls with a worried look on his face. When they both ganged up on him, he usually came out on the losing end.

Lynol held her glowing amulet threateningly in her left hand, smiling playfully at Kalvin. Several large towering pillars of water rose up near him, then cascaded back into the pond as she released them. “If you don’t behave, I might,” she said with a mischievous smile on her face.

Dresdia’s high-spirited laughter rang out across the small pond. “Let’s eat!” Dresdia interjected, feeling hunger pangs. This was the most fun they’d been able to have in months!

The girls had packed a picnic lunch for them. Laughing, they raced out of the water with the two girls easily beating Kalvin to the large blanket that lay in the shade beneath the towering trees. Sitting on the blanket, they soon had their food unpacked. Dresdia had made sandwiches, and Lynol had baked an apple pie knowing it was Kalvin’s favorite dessert.

Out of the corner of her eyes, Lynol noticed Kalvin watching her with a slightly strange look. This swimming suit is a little too skimpy, she thought to herself, feeling a little self-conscious. It shows more than it hides, but then again she did seem to get a strange girlish thrill from the way Kalvin looked at her. In some ways, it made her feel more like a woman. Besides, it was just harmless fun!

Kalvin tore his gaze away from Lynol. He felt a nervous knot developing in the pit of his stomach. During the last year, she had really matured. Lynol had blossomed into a beautiful young woman that any man would die for. This was the first time they had gone swimming together since the previous summer, and Lynol’s light blue two-piece swimming suit just made her body even more attractive. Taking a large bite out of his sandwich, Kalvin tried unsuccessfully to turn his mind toward other less dangerous subjects.

Lynol, taking a small bite out of her sandwich, leaned back and stretched, enjoying the cool summer breeze blowing under the trees. Out of the corner of her eyes she caught Kalvin staring openly at her breasts, which were pushed taut against the flimsy piece of material that covered them.

Dresdia, seeing where Kalvin’s eyes were focused, elbowed him sharply in his side and gave him a pointed, warning glare. She was embarrassed by her brother’s open staring. Could her brother not think of anything else? He certainly had a one-track mind today. Dresdia wondered if all boys were like Kalvin at this age.

This could be fun, Lynol thought impishly, realizing the power she could exert over Kalvin. Relaxing again and acting as if she hadn’t noticed his stare, she took another bite out of her sandwich and then, turning to the picnic basket, she reached for the apple pie she’d brought. “Anyone for pie?” she asked demurely, turning to stare innocently at Kalvin, whose face was slightly flushed.

“Sounds great,” stammered Kalvin, thinking about how Lynol’s body had felt pressed up against his in the water.

He had been thinking seriously about telling Lynol how he felt about her, but he wasn’t sure how she would respond. Her studies occupied most of her free time. With everything on her mind, he knew he shouldn’t add something else, no matter how bad he wanted to. For now, it might be best to keep his feelings to himself.

Dresdia rolled her eyes and turned her hands, looking at Lynol and Kalvin. Apple pie was certainly Kalvin’s weakness and Lynol was obviously flirting with him, making him even more self-conscious. Dresdia grinned at the implications. Kalvin was defenseless when Lynol was around. Maybe Lynol was developing feelings for her brother. Next time they were alone, she would have to ask her.

After serving Kalvin his pie, Lynol stood, tossed her partly dry hair, and stretched, knowing that Kalvin’s eyes were riveted upon her straining breasts. She laughed, smiling devilishly at Kalvin, who sat staring openly, his pie momentarily forgotten.

“Better eat that pie, Kalvin,” she said teasingly, turning and walking the short distance to the pond’s edge, gazing out across the relaxing water. This could really be fun and exciting she thought, knowing that Kalvin’s eyes were still focused on her.

“Yes, Kalvin,” Dresdia jumped in, seizing the opportunity. “Pull your eyes back in their sockets and eat your pie!”

Kalvin’s icy glare made Dresdia burst into laughter. She was amazed at the power Lynol could wield so easily over her brother. Yes, she thought, this could definitely be an interesting summer.

-

Later the three walked over to see WhiteStorm, Dresdia’s colt, which was now well over a year old. Upon seeing the three, WhiteStorm neighed loudly, prancing around before running up to them from the far end of the small enclosed pasture. The colt ran up to Dresdia, nuzzling her, almost pushing her over.

“Ever since Dresdia started feeding that horse apples he expects one every time she comes around,” Kalvin stated critically, watching the glossy brown colt with the white spot upon his forehead.

“Apples are fine,” replied Lynol soothingly, reaching out to scratch WhiteStorm behind his ear. The colt leaned his head forward, enjoying Lynol’s delicate touch. “You like apples, don’t you WhiteStorm?” she said gently.

“But not two or three a day,” Kalvin muttered to himself as he watched the two girls pet the young horse. The animal was getting very spoiled.

“He has really grown this past year,” Lynol commented as she continued to pet WhiteStorm. “He’s really going to be fun to ride. How soon are you going to start training him, Kalvin?”

“I’ve already started,” Kalvin replied, pleased that Lynol was showing an interest. “I’ve been getting him used to the feel of a blanket and a small saddle on his back. In a few more months, I will be adding more weight. With a little luck, he will be ready to ride this fall.”

After playing with the colt for a while longer, Kalvin volunteered to walk Lynol home so she wouldn’t have to walk back by herself. Dresdia was staying home so she could finish her chores and help her mother. It also gave him a convenient excuse to spend some time alone with Lynol.

They were both strangely quiet as they walked back to Lynol’s home, each just enjoying the other’s company. There hadn’t been a lot of time for this recently with everything that had been going on.

Trade with Draydon had dried up completely. Very few goods were coming across the mountains from the other villages and towns in Draydon’s vicinity. The few scattered villages on the east side of the mountains had become even more dependent upon each other. News from across the mountains had been minimal. What news that had reached them had been hard to believe; almost frightening.

Kalvin knew Dresdia was having nightmares about the dragon. She was scared to death that Gilmreth would appear over their farm some night. At home, he often caught her staring with open fear on her face at Firestorm Mountain. There was scarcely a day that went by that Kalvin didn’t think about the prophecy the three had found at the altar site.

Reaching the lower pasture within sight of her home, Lynol stopped and turned to face Kalvin. “I really enjoyed myself today,” she said smiling, looking into Kalvin’s deep brown eyes.

“I did too,” replied Kalvin, hoping Lynol wasn’t too aggravated with him. He knew he shouldn’t have stared at her so openly. “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you today,” he added uncomfortably, looking down and shifting about on his feet.

“I wasn’t embarrassed,” replied Lynol softly, her eyes twinkling. “I need time with you and Dresdia; especially you!”

Leaning forward, she gently touched his arms with her hands and then, placing her lips on his, she gave Kalvin a quick, gentle kiss. With a departing playful laugh, she turned and hurried off toward the house.

Kalvin stood stunned, watching her retreating figure, his mouth open in surprise, not believing that Lynol had actually kissed him. It had happened so quickly that all he could do was stand there and look like an idiot. Finally relaxing, Kalvin turned and started back home, whistling happily with new and enticing thoughts running rambunctiously through his turbulent mind.

-

Several days later in far off Draydon, Jalene looked out from her balcony with dry satisfaction at the bustling work being done all over the town. Sipping a glass of red wine from a hand crafted crystal goblet, she leaned back against the wall, enjoying the luxurious softness of the black satin clothes she wore.

A knock at the door interrupted her reverie, and with an impatient frown she turned and walked back into the main room. Going to the door, she opened it. Storn Daes and Baelen Dal waited patiently next to the two temple guards standing attentively outside. Two other temple guards were permanently stationed at the front entrance to her new home to ensure she wasn’t bothered with unwanted visitors. Baelen Dal was the priest in charge of preparing the sacrifices for the temple.

“What is it Storn?” Jalene asked a little impatiently. She didn’t like unplanned visits; they very seldom brought good news.

Storn’s calm matter-of-fact tone of voice made Jalene’s blood chill at times. There was something mysterious, almost dangerous about Storn, which required careful watching. He wasn’t a threat now, and he served so well as High Priest. She could ignore that slight irrational fear, but it never hurt to be cautious. Baelen, on the other hand, obeyed her without question. He was totally obedient and would do whatever she asked of him.

“We need to talk, Milady,” the red-cowled priest replied, gazing at her, his eyes unflinching.

“Come in, then,” spoke Jalene, stepping aside and allowing the two men to enter.

“What’s the problem now?” she asked impatiently, facing the two men, setting down her glass of wine, and folding her arms across her chest.

It seemed as if there were always problems, too many problems! Every day there were decisions to be made, and plans that had to be changed for various reasons. To Jalene it should have been simple. Her city needed to be finished! Daes and Dal both knew that, yet they were constantly coming to see her. It seemed as if she had to approve everything, no matter how slight at times.

“We need more workers if we are to stay on our construction schedule,” Baelen began with a nervous catch in his voice. Baelen wasn’t sure how Jalene would receive his news. “The overseers report we are falling behind schedule once more.”

“Then work the people harder!” snapped Jalene, finding it hard to hold in her sudden aggravation. “Threaten them with Gilmreth if necessary. The work must be completed on time! I don’t want to hear excuses!”

“The people are already being pushed as far as they can,” replied Storn, speaking calmly and ignoring Jalene’s anger. “Physically, we can’t ask them to do more. Most are already working from dawn until dusk, and to force them to work harder will only slow down construction even further. Remember, we have been allowing them an extra free day after each sacrifice. That has also slowed the work down.”

“Then take away the free day we give them each week!” Jalene ordered, still feeling angry.

Storn had talked Jalene into allowing the workers off one day a week to permit them to recuperate and spend time with their families. He had claimed it would help to speed up the work.

“I would remind you that productivity has increased substantially since we started allowing them off one day a week,” Storn replied calmly, ignoring Jalene’s irritation “If we overwork the people your city will never be completed and you will have no one to rule; they will all be dead!”

Jalene frowned, realizing the priest was probably right. Over the past year, she had brought nearly ten thousand additional people into the Draydon area, many of them living in makeshift tents on its outskirts. Most of these people were from distant, sparsely settled lands to the north and west, and just the appearance of Gilmreth over their villages had convinced them to migrate to her new city. Carpenters, masons, and general laborers were needed by the thousands to complete the city she envisioned in her dreams.

On several occasions, she had been forced to turn Gilmreth loose, razing entire villages to the ground to set an example of how futile it was to resist her demands. These nearly unlimited feedings had also served to strengthen the dragon until he was now almost as powerful as he had ever been.

She’d also allowed Daes to talk her into giving the people a free day after each sacrifice. It was all becoming part of her plan of installing the ritual sacrifices as part of temple doctrine. The people would eventually accept it as part of their daily lives.

“Very well,” replied Jalene, thinking furiously, her anger ebbing. Her city must be completed; her vision brought to fruition. “We will bring in more workers from the lands to the southwest. They have a large population, and it shouldn’t take more than a token appearance by Gilmreth to force them to see the wisdom of volunteering for construction jobs here in Draydon.”

“Excellent, Milady,” replied Storn, bowing his head slightly, satisfied with the decision. It was what he had wanted. “However, with many more new workers, our food supplies will rapidly dwindle. Most of the farmers in the surrounding countryside are already being asked to produce more than their lands will bear. It will be necessary for more land to be cleared of the ancient poison left over from the Worldfire. We must expand the farms around Draydon in order to feed the new workers, so we'll also need more farmers.”

Jalene’s face froze into a demonic scowl. She knew that it would take an extremely powerful spell to clear the lands of the ancient poison, one she didn’t enjoy enacting. “Confiscate the crops from the lands farther out along the Crystal River!” she said, her voice scathing. “I’ve already cleared the local farms of the Worldfire poison, isn’t that enough?”

The man shrugged, his red robe rippling against well-toned muscles, his unwavering gaze meeting Jalene’s eyes. “Even that will not be enough, Milady. If we bring in as many workers as we need to complete the city as scheduled we will need more; much more. They must have food or they can’t work, and if they can’t work we will fall even further behind your schedule.”

Jalene hesitated briefly, closing her eyes and trying to control her frustration. Opening them, she glanced at the Stone of Loraine; she realized the truth of what Storn was saying. Jalene’s piercing gaze finally returned to the waiting priest. “Very well, Storn, I will use my sorcery to make more land fertile. I will remove the poison from the ground and cast a spell that will make the crops grow more quickly. But I warn you; I’d better see some rapid progress in construction!”

“You will, Milady,” promised Storn, backing slowly toward the door. “Send Gilmreth to bring in the new workers and the overseers will have construction back on schedule almost immediately.”

Her nod to Storn’s retreating figure was scornful, insinuating, and decisive as she turned away. Behind Jalene, the door closed, and she was left alone with Baelen Dal, who stood nervously awaiting her attention. Turning back around, Jalene gazed questionably at Dal. What else did the pale-eyed priest want?

“Well, speak up!” she commanded irritably. “What else is there; what do you want?”

“Milady,” he began nervously. “The populace continues to be hesitant about submitting their daughters as candidates for the sacrifice.”

“They have no choice!” Jalene barked, angry at her precious time being wasted. The people would do what she demanded or face the consequences. Dal knew that; why was he wasting her time?

“A lower priest in the temple knows of a drug, which will make the candidates submit themselves willingly to the sacrifice. If the populace sees the sacrifices are willing, perhaps their cooperation will improve,” Baelen suggested cautiously.

“Willing sacrifices,” Jalene mused thoughtfully. The idea intrigued her.

Perhaps the drug combined with her sorcery could make them much more than just willing. Yes, she liked the idea of the sacrifices going willingly to Gilmreth, to become one with the dragon. Besides, the screaming when Gilmreth fed was starting to get aggravating. All the sacrifices screamed very loudly!

“Very well, we shall implement your suggestion at the next sacrifice. Don’t disappoint me!” Inclining her head toward the door, she dismissed the priest.

Baelen Dal bowed, retreating from the room. Jalene stood alone, staring at the closed door. Walking over to the table upon which her spell book lay, Jalene opened it to the necessary spell for purifying the ground. She stared at the spell for a long moment, annoyed at the necessity of using her power to cleanse more land of the leftover Worldfire poison.

Retrieving the Stone of Loraine from its case, she was ready. Jalene hesitated, this was a powerful spell, and she would pay a heavy price for its enactment later. Fortifying herself, she reached down for her glass of wine and drank the last of it. Then she began the complicated incantation, using her fingers to bind the lines of power together and speaking the ancient words.

The Stone of Loraine began to glow brilliantly, almost pulsing like a human heart as it gathered strength. A nebulous red radiance formed around Jalene’s flickering fingertips. She felt the powerful spell reach out, combing the land, finding the Worldfire poison, drawing it into itself, and forcing the stone to even greater brilliance.

For long minutes, Jalene stood caught up in the rapture of the spell and the power it was drawing to feed itself as it reached as far as the Crystal River, cleansing the blighted land of the Worldfire poison. The entire area to the west and northwest of Draydon became free for miles for the first time in nearly three thousand years of the deadly poisonous scourge left over from the all-consuming Worldfire.

As the spell finally played itself out, Jalene stumbled over to a well-cushioned sofa to collapse and lay there, pale and breathing heavily. The spell had nearly drained her. In moments, Jalene was asleep, falling into a deep, exhausted and troubled slumber. The Stone of Loraine lay across her breasts glowing dully, rising and falling slowly with her steady breathing.

-

Lynol was studying with Malcon in the underground crypt when she sensed the sudden flowing of power from Jalene’s use of the Stone of Loraine. Instantly her body tensed and her eyes narrowed. “She is using her sorcery again,” Lynol informed Malcon, amazed at the strength of the spell she sensed. Lynol wondered worriedly why Jalene was using such a powerful spell. What could she be up to? Did it involve Gilmreth? “It’s a very powerful spell!” Lynol cast her mind toward Firestorm Mountain and sensed the dragon still asleep in his lair. Whatever the sorceress was doing, it didn’t involve Gilmreth. Since Malcon began teaching her whatever had been blocking her from sensing the other sorceress had vanished. Lynol strongly suspected it was because her own powers had increased.

“Your ability to detect the subtle variations created when another sorceress weaves a spell is truly amazing,” Malcon’s glowing figure commented, gazing at his young protégé. “It’s something that I couldn’t do, nor could Lys as she got older. From the rumors you have reported, she may well possess the stone. Several travelers have reported seeing her brandishing a scepter with a brilliant red ruby! If that’s true, then she does indeed possess it.”

“The dragon is still asleep in his lair,” Lynol reported. “The spell isn’t aimed at Gilmreth.”

“She has been using her sorcery quite often in and around Draydon,” replied Malcon, nodding his head in thought.

“The last few traders to pass through Galvin reported that Gilmreth has been seen quite regularly over most of the towns and villages on the far side of the mountains,” said Lynol, walking over to the long stone wall that was covered with shelves and held numerous priceless books and scrolls.

“She is using the dragon to frighten the people into obeying her,” Malcon commented with a deep frown. “Using the dragon this way is extremely dangerous. She is playing with fire.”

“Why has Gilmreth not made an appearance over the villages on our side of the mountain?” asked Lynol, looking inquiringly at Malcon.

She had been worried for months about the dragon making an appearance. Each night, before she went to sleep, she would check to make sure Gilmreth was safely in his lair. On those nights when he wasn’t, Lynol slept very little.

She was worried that if the deadly dragon did make an appearance, she might have to confront him prematurely. Malcon had repeatedly told Lynol she wasn’t ready. That they must wait for the right time. Even if the dragon did appear they dared not challenge it, but Lynol wasn’t sure she could just stand idly by and do nothing. She was in the same quandary that Lys had been.

Malcon paused, considering the question briefly, his spectral form hovering in the blue radiance of the dais. “Lys and my true self inflicted a lot of pain upon the dragon. When my true self met the dragon in his lair, the dragon had to recognize who the sorcerer was and where he came from. Perhaps the dragon prefers to do his hunting elsewhere for now. Gilmreth might feel the pickings are easier and safer on the far side of the mountain.”

“After all these years, you believe the dragon still remembers?” asked Lynol, still gazing at her spectral mentor.

Could Gilmreth still remember what Lys and Malcon had done? Then she recalled the image she had seen in the dragon’s mind the first time he’d partially awoke. The image had been that of Malcon, she knew that now without any doubt. Perhaps the dragon did remember.

“Keep in mind Lynol, the dragons were created to be servants of the sorcerers of the Golden Age,” Malcon spoke, his eyes gazing into hers. “They were supposed to be semi-intelligent. Who knows what Gilmreth may remember? Also, keep in mind the dragon has slept all this time. To the dragon it may seem like only a few days ago when I put him to sleep.”

Lynol sighed, hoping Malcon was correct. Finding the book she was searching for, Lynol returned to the large table in front of the glowing dais, which was covered haphazardly with other opened books and scrolls. Malcon had been teaching Lynol how to control the different elements of fire, earth, wind, and water. The waterspout she had caused to fall upon Kalvin was an excellent example of her control over water.

Lynol had been amazed at the sheer number of books and scrolls on the shelves that were devoted to sorcery. There was so much to learn and so little time. Opening the book, she turned to the spell Malcon wanted her to work on today. It was a simple one designed to call up storms. She was to use her amulet to see if she could create a small shower above the farm. The weather had been extremely dry for months, and a little rain was sorely needed.

“So this spell will make it rain,” Lynol said thoughtfully as she read over the spell. It seemed easy enough. She touched her amulet, wondering if her sorcery would be strong enough to enact this particular spell.

“You should be able to summon up a small shower with your current abilities,” replied Malcon, nodding. “It will result in a light rain that will last for several minutes and will be an excellent test for us to measure your current progress. It will also give us a better understanding on how powerful you have become in your abilities.”

“Well, we could sure use the rain,” Lynol commented. Many of the local farmers were complaining about their crops drying up. Food was going to be even scarcer, particularly with a reduction in trade with Draydon.

“Remember, Lynol,” Malcon spoke softly, watching her. “The stronger the spell, the more strength it requires. That’s why we have been gradually working up to stronger and stronger spells with your amulet. As it becomes more in tune with your body, the energy it draws from you to weave a spell becomes less. The amulet itself begins to serve as a focus, magnifying your inner strength. You will need to step outside the crypt to enact this spell.”

Reading over the spell several more times, Lynol stood up and walked up the narrow flight of steps carrying the book. No spells could be cast in the crypt and be expected to work outside due to its protective shielding.

Reaching the entrance, Lynol stepped outside into the late afternoon sunlight and looked toward Firestorm Mountain. Already, the first long dark fingers of purple shadow lay across the base of the mountains.

She placed the spell book upon a small, waist-high stone. Grasping her amulet with her left hand, she moved her right hand through the complicated gestures to link the energy lines together for the spell. She spoke the words, molding the energy with her voice. A nebulous, glowing lattice of connected shimmering blue energy formed around her fingertips. She could now sense the energy lines she was joining if she closed her eyes, and sometimes she thought she could see the actual woven pattern of the completed spell. Within her mind, she could sense the changing energy patterns as she connected them into the weave indicated in the ancient spell book. When she felt she was ready she reached out with her mind, projecting the spell toward the sky above the mountain, commanding it to bring rain.

Above the distant slopes of Firestorm Mountain, the sky slowly darkened as clouds began to form. In just a few short minutes, towering thunderheads began rising swiftly into the air as the sky became overcast. Bursts of ragged lightning began jutting down to strike the desolate slopes. The clouds spread, and thunder rumbled as heavy rain began to fall.

-

In his lair under the mountain, Gilmreth stirred as he felt the storm now beginning to rage above, with rain and small hail battering the slopes. Raising his head, the dragon sent a burst of angry red flame against the distant wall of his lair. The dragon felt uneasy about the storm; it didn’t feel natural. The dragon still dimly remembered the pain inflicted upon it so long ago by lightning. The east side of the mountain was dangerous in Gilmreth’s deranged mind. For now the dragon would stay away from those villages lest an ancient sorcerer still lived. Laying his head back down, Gilmreth closed his eyes and fell back into an uneasy, nearly dreamless sleep.

-

Lynol stared with mute fascination at the huge storm, which continued to gather strength upon the slopes of the mountain. The sky began to turn black and fierce lightning could be seen coming down in sheets in the distance. This isn’t good, she thought, looking guiltily about. She had planned on only a small shower, not a raging thunderstorm! Malcon had said it would only be a light rain.

It had been years since a storm of this magnitude had come down from the mountains. Firestorm Mountain was rapidly being covered, and the storm was still growing. Lynol fought down growing panic, and a hollow feeling of worry grew as she gazed at the growing, darkening storm.

Taking the book, she ran back down the steps knowing that, in a few more minutes, the storm would be upon them. She had to find out from Malcon what to do. Should she try to disperse the storm? Why had it gotten so large? Malcon had said she only had the power to create a small shower. What was coming down from the mountain was obviously not a small shower!

“Malcon, the storm is too large!” Lynol breathed nervously, as she burst into the underground room hurriedly rushing up to the spectral figure, which had been patiently waiting.

“Really?” the glowing figure said, surprised as he gazed at Lynol. “Show me in your mind the storm as you saw it last.”

Lynol projected a mental picture of the storm toward the glowing figure. Malcon had taught this trick to her earlier since the dais prevented him from sensing anything above ground much more than a few feet away from the Sylvar Stone. “What should I do? I didn’t intend for the storm to be so large! What if the other sorceress detects it?”

“Truly amazing,” Malcon commented, pleasantly surprised, seeing the storm that Lynol projected and wondering how this had happened. “Your power is becoming much more focused than I had realized. You shouldn’t have been able to create a storm of such strength. We must take time to study how you created such a powerful storm; perhaps it is the result of unusually intense focus. As for the other sorceress, she probably doesn’t have the ability to detect the use of your powers at such a distance. That ability is extremely rare, almost unheard of. I don’t believe we have anything to fear, but we shall be watchful just in case. This storm is quite amazing.”

Malcon’s gaze turned briefly toward her amulet, his face becoming touched with growing curiosity. It was evidentially much more powerful than he had originally believed. But how could that be? The blue sapphire Lynol used for an amulet had never been exposed to another sorcerer before.

“But what should I do about the storm?” Lynol asked, concerned, her face filling with growing impatience. “Should I try to stop it?”

“Don’t fret, my dear,” responded Malcon, forcing a reassuring smile. “The storm will rapidly dissipate once it comes down from the mountain. Also, a heavy, soaking rain will be good for the land.”

Lynol rushed back up the stairs, leaving Malcon standing on the glowing dais watching her retreat. Quickly sealing the entrance behind her, she ran hurriedly to the house. In the distance, she could hear the heavy rumble of thunder. She wanted to have everything closed before the approaching storm struck. Already, a cold splattering of isolated raindrops were falling. The warm afternoon air was turning cooler, and the sun was now hidden behind the blackening clouds.

She knew Kalvin was out working in the fields with his father. He’s going to be angry, Lynol thought worriedly. Kalvin was bound to realize who had created this suddenly approaching downpour. She just knew Kalvin and his father were going to be very thoroughly soaked unless they could find some type of shelter very quickly. She would never hear the end of this from Kalvin. He’s going to think I did this on purpose, Lynol thought anxiously.

-

Damon came out onto the porch looking up at the sky, a look of pleasant surprise appeared on his face as he saw the raindrops beginning to fall. It had been so long since the last rain. Damon looked at the dark gray clouds in surprise. Thunder echoed hollowly in the distance. Rain was becoming a seldom occurrence in this parched land, with just barely enough to allow them to eke out a small crop each year. Seeing Lynol coming hurriedly from behind the garden where the Sylvar Stone stood, a dawning look of comprehension spread across Damon’s face.

“Is this storm yours?” asked Damon, glancing at the lightning that was coming rapidly closer as a heavy gust of cold wind sent a concealing sheet of rain across the lower meadow. There was the accompanying rolling growl of thunder. The sky was darker, lower, and menacing.

“Yes,” Lynol yelled in the rapidly rising wind as she ran up onto the porch. “I didn’t mean for it to get this big. It was just supposed to be a small shower.” Lynol shivered as the air was quickly growing colder and the wind started to howl even more.

Damon went back into the house behind Lynol, securing the door behind them. Then the two rushed through the house making sure all the windows and shutters were shut and firmly secured.  The rumbling of thunder echoed loudly through the air. Lynol and her father stopped to stand together at the large window, which faced Firestorm Mountain. They watched as the rain began coming down in driving sheets, hiding the mountain and the lower meadow itself. A brilliant light turned the dark sky blue-white for a moment, followed instantly by a loud clap of thunder so close it seemed simultaneous. The jagged bolt of lightning had struck a tree close to the pond.

“It hasn’t rained like this in years,” murmured Damon, watching the heavy downpour in elation. “Sorcery handled properly could mean so much to our people.”

“I just hope no one washes away,” Lynol muttered quietly, thinking about Kalvin and concerned about the severity of the storm.

Kalvin was really going to be upset with her! How was she ever going to explain this? She knew she would have to make it up to him, somehow. Perhaps another apple pie was called for; probably more than one. Lynol sighed as she gazed out the window.

Damon began to laugh. “Don’t worry, Lynol, everything will be fine. A hard rain like this is good for the land occasionally. I promise it won’t hurt anything.” Damon reached over and gave her a gentle pat on the back of her shoulder.

“Perhaps,” Lynol replied doubtfully, watching the storm and picturing Kalvin dripping wet out in the fields.

Lightning flashed nearby, the immediate rumble of thunder drowning out Damon’s reply. Lynol and her father stood at the window watching the storm as a heavy cascade of raindrops began pelting the window, driven by the wind. Outside, a thunderbolt seared across the sky, glaring light stabbed into the room, followed by the loud clap of thunder. The rain began to hammer down in earnest upon the roof. Almost unconsciously, Lynol stepped away from the window and closer to her father. It’s really raining hard, she thought as she continued to watch the storm worriedly.

Sometime later, which seemed like an eternity to Lynol but was actually a short span of time, the rain slowly ceased. The sun came back out from behind the clouds. Soon it would be sitting behind Firestorm Mountain. Lynol felt relieved that the storm was finally over. It hadn’t been as bad as she had feared. Perhaps Kalvin wouldn’t be too upset. She hoped he had made it to cover and not gotten too wet.

Stepping back out onto the porch, Lynol and her father took a deep breath of the clean, fresh air, with the sweet scent of recent rain still lingering. Down in the meadow, the cattle could be seen grazing, and their horses were standing together at the top of the meadow as if nothing had happened.

“See? Even the animals enjoyed the rain,” her father said reassuringly to Lynol, pointing at the animals in the meadow. “This will help the crops and our vegetables, which reminds me; Aldin, Kalvin, and I are going into Galvin tomorrow with some vegetables and other trading goods.”

“Why are all three of you going together?” Lynol asked, surprised at her father’s announcement.

Very seldom did they go in at the same time. She would like to see Kalvin to apologize for the storm. She wondered if she should have an apple pie ready to be used as a peace offering.

“Addison has been doing a lot of complaining about us and the Gors, even about the Mystols. I don’t want to take any chances on there being any trouble. With all three of us we shouldn’t have any problems with the man,” her father replied. “You might as well come too. Gwen would love to see you, and after all it’s been awhile since you have been to Galvin; your studying has been keeping you busy. A little time off to see Gwen might be good for you.”

Later that night, Lynol lay in bed gazing out her window at the myriad of bright stars visible above Firestorm Mountain. The steady chirping of crickets and the cool breeze flowing in through her open bedroom window soon lulled her to sleep. But even in her dreams there were dragons; sometimes it was Gilmreth, other times there were different dragons. Tonight it was a white dragon. Turning on her side and pulling the blankets up around her, the dreams continued.

Chapter Ten

The next day Damon, Aldin, and Kalvin rode toward Galvin in a wagon heavily loaded with fresh vegetables and other items to trade at the Mystols. Lynol hadn’t been able to come. Malcon wanted to see if they could figure out why the storm had been so intense. He felt it might be very important. Lynol told her father she would come in to see Gwen as soon as possible.

The countryside looked unusually vibrant and green due to the drenching rain from the previous evening. The air was crisp and fresh. The sun had already climbed high into the bright blue sky, but the wet ground and foliage from the storm was helping to hold the daytime temperature down. Damon hadn’t seen such a rejuvenating sight in years. The good that Lynol’s powers could do were astonishing if she could only use them openly. At times like this, Damon thought he understood why the ancient sorcerers of the Golden Age had thought they could play God.

“Sure was a strange storm yesterday,” commented Aldin, eyeing Damon and wondering if Lynol had been responsible.

The power she had already demonstrated to help their crops grow was astonishing. The storm had appeared so suddenly Aldin was certain Lynol’s sorcery was the culprit. Their entire farm had been soaked from the heavy rain. The thunder and the drenching rain was something he hadn’t seen in years. If she was that strong a sorceress already, how powerful would she become in a few more years?

“Yes, it was,” Damon replied noncommittally, enjoying the cool summer day. “It’s a shame we don’t have more of those, it would sure help green everything up. It doesn’t seem to rain as often as it used to. It’s been years since a storm like last nights rolled down from the mountains!”

“True enough,” Aldin nodded, recalling his youth. “I don’t recollect many storms of that strength and intensity. I must admit it was refreshing. Kalvin got thoroughly soaked! The storm caught him down in the meadow repairing fences.”

Damon laughed, glancing over at Kalvin. The young man would suspect Lynol was responsible. He would have to remember to tell his daughter. He was sure she would get a good laugh out of it also.

Kalvin listened interestingly to the two older men. There wasn’t any doubt in his mind that Lynol had caused the storm. He knew her sorcery was the culprit! One of the sorcery spells she worked at so diligently every day probably caused the storm. He had been caught outside and most thoroughly soaked before making it to the dry safety of the house. Twice he had fallen down in the mud from the gusting wind and the heavy rain. Dresdia had laughed until she could hardly catch her breath at seeing the wet, muddy spectacle that Kalvin presented when he had finally reached the house.

Wait until he saw Lynol! She had known he was working repairing fences. If he didn’t know better, he would almost believe she had caused the storm on purpose. Kalvin wondered if he could find some way to get even. The problem was getting around Lynol’s growing sorcery and his sister who always sided with her. What chance did he have against both of them? Thinking about Lynol brought a pleasant smile to his face. Yes, he clearly needed to find some way to get even.

As they pulled up in front of Tohm and Gwen’s store Damon noticed, with a sour taste in his mouth, that Addison was standing on his store’s porch. The storeowner was gesturing angrily to several other men. Seeing them pull up with their loaded wagon, Addison stopped talking and just stared openly with rampant hatred.

Damon felt a little uneasy with Addison’s obvious open display of anger. It would be just like Addison to try to start a ruckus. He knew Addison was highly aggravated about all the fresh vegetables they had been bringing in to the Mystols. It allowed Tohm to keep his prices considerably lower than Addison’s, which forced Addison to lower his own prices, cutting into his profits.

“Good morning,” Gwen said brightly, coming out of their store’s open door with a cheerful smile on her face to stand on the large covered porch. “My Kalvin, you surely are turning into a fine looking young man. You will have all the young girls chasing after you very soon!” she teased with a twinkling of her eyes.

Blushing, Kalvin climbed down from the wagon and walked up the two short steps of the porch to Gwen, allowing her to give him a big motherly hug.

“Hello, Gwen,” Kalvin replied pleasantly with a grin. “We brought a lot of stuff from the farms!”

“So I see,” she replied, letting Kalvin go. “Now go help your father and Damon unload the wagon, then we can have a long talk inside. It seems like ages since I last saw you. You have to tell me all about what Dresdia, Lynol, and you have been up to recently!”

Nodding, Kalvin went to the back of the wagon. He began unloading the heavy baskets of vegetables and other goods they’d brought in, setting them down on the ground at the foot of the steps in front of the store.

There was only one girl Kalvin wanted chasing him, and Lynol’s surprising kiss the other day had left his mind and emotions in turmoil. If Lynol wanted to confuse Kalvin, her antics had accomplished just that. She was in his thoughts almost constantly. He wondered how she felt about him. If not for all the pressure she was under, he would have asked her just what the kiss had meant. He wondered if it had meant as much to her as it had to him.

“Tohm is out delivering some orders and should be back shortly,” said Gwen, noticing with a little concern that Addison and his friends were coming toward them from across the street.

She didn’t like the look on Addison’s face. Why couldn’t the man just leave them alone? If only Tohm was here. He wouldn’t dare cause any trouble with Tohm around. Tohm was too popular with the people of the village. Her eyes narrowed as she watched Addison, realizing there was going to be trouble.

Seeing the direction Gwen’s eyes were focused, Damon turned as Addison came to a stop next to the wagon, looking up belligerently. Damon had been about to climb off the wagon to give Kalvin a hand. He knew from the look on Addison’s face that trouble was inevitable. Damon sighed and wondered if there was any way this could be avoided. He didn’t want a confrontation here in the middle of the village. Damon climbed down from the wagon and Aldin did the same, walking around the wagon to stand next to Damon.

Addison wore a scowl on his face as he gazed enviously at the large load of vegetables the wagon contained. No one brought anything like this to his store! Not only that, where were they getting all this produce? Just what the hell was going on out there on those two farms?

“You Sylvars and Gors aren’t holding out on us now, are you?” he demanded loudly, folding his arms defiantly across his chest. “With all this extra food, I'll bet you never miss a meal. I just wonder how much more you could grow on those farms if they were worked properly by real men!”

The men behind him nodded in agreement, eyeing the heavy load of vegetables resentfully. They worked for Addison and ran two small farms he owned just on the outskirts of the village. Neither of the farms ever produced a harvest even close to what the Sylvars and Gors had been bringing in recently. Addison’s ire at them had been growing ever since the Sylvars and the Gors had started bringing in all this produce. Addison had been very belligerent, demanding that his farms produce more. But no matter how hard they tried, they hadn’t managed to increase the production.

“It’s none of your concern, Addison,” Damon replied stone-faced, wanting to ignore the man. “You worry about your store and let us worry about our farms. If your prices were more reasonable, maybe fewer people in this village wouldn’t have to miss a meal!”

“I only charge what’s fair!” Addison grated out angrily, his face turning livid, his jaw working.

He looked enviously at the large load of vegetables Kalvin was busily unloading. The large baskets brimming with vegetables that he was placing at the foot of the store’s steps made Addison’s mouth water with envy. The profits he could make with such produce! The Mystols would give most of it away, forcing him to lower his prices even more. What a waste! His farms didn’t produce anything like this. Just what was going on out there toward Firestorm Mountain?

“Maybe this dragon we have been hearing about will pay you a special visit!” Addison continued angrily, turning his attention back to Damon and Aldin. “After all, your farms are the closest to that infernal mountain. Your ancestor didn’t do such a great job after all of putting the dragon to sleep. All those stories you used to spout about this great ancestor sorcerer of yours were just a bunch of bull! Your ancestor failed Sylvar. The dragon is free! Maybe this dragon will remember your family. Maybe we should send word to Draydon that your family still lives here! This new sorceress we have heard rumors about might be very interested in that!”

“You should worry more about the dragon yourself, Addison. The dragon is a threat to all of us, not just a few. It’s only a matter of time before we see the dragon on our side of the mountain; just be glad it hasn’t happened yet. Don’t think Galvin is safe just because the dragon hasn’t been seen,” Damon replied stiffly, growing angry at Addison’s persistence. He noticed that a small, curious crowd was gathering watching and listening to the verbal exchange in the street. He didn’t like Addison’s threat, either. “The dragon is too dangerous to be joking about, Addison!”

“Why should we worry? I understand the dragon has a taste for young girls, and you and Aldin both have young daughters the dragon would be very content with,” Addison spoke vehemently, his hate spilling out into the open.

His cronies behind him looked about uneasily, not caring for the way this confrontation was going. Addison was crossing a dangerous line, and they didn’t want any part of it. He shouldn’t have accosted Damon and Aldin out in the open where everyone could see and hear, and he certainly shouldn’t have said anything about Damon and Aldin’s daughters!

Putting down the heavy basket of vegetables he’d been unloading, Kalvin strode heatedly around the wagon with an angry look on his young face. He had heard the comment about his sister and Lynol. Walking up to Addison, Kalvin shoved the surprised older man backward, knocking him into his two supporters who were standing nervously behind him.

“Why don’t you just shut up and go back to your store!” Kalvin barked angrily, his hands clenched into tight fists and his face stormy. “I hear you talking about my sister and Lynol like that again and you’ll be sorry! Next time I won’t just push you, I’ll knock you to the ground!”

Addison stood looking confused and annoyed, not sure how to respond to Kalvin. He outweighed Addison and was much more muscular. He hadn’t expected Kalvin to react this way. It was Damon he had wanted to elicit a response from, not this young man. If he picked a fight with Kalvin, the entire village would turn against him. In a brawl, there was no doubt in Addison’s mind that he would lose, and he didn’t like losing. He knew with a sinking feeling in his gut that he shouldn’t have made the comment about the two girls.

Damon and Aldin hurriedly stepped over to Kalvin’s side, grabbing his arms and pulling him back away from Addison. “I think you need to get back to your store, Addison!” Damon barked in a commanding voice, his eyes locking with Addison’s, not wanting this to go any further. “We don’t want any trouble, but we won’t back away from it, either. We don’t take kindly to our families being threatened!”

“You'd better leave, Addison, or I’ll let Kalvin finish what he started,” Aldin added with an angry look on his face. “Maybe what you need is a good whipping, and I think Kalvin could accomplish just that if need be. Maybe it would knock some sense into your thick head!” Aldin knew Kalvin was extremely upset at Addison’s words and suspected why.

The growing crowd voiced their agreement in no uncertain terms. Addison wasn’t a very popular person in the close-knit community.

“Go back to your store, Addison!” one of the villagers said loudly.

“Good job, Kalvin,” another voice continued. “It’s about time someone put Addison in his place!”

“Leave these people alone!” a female voice joined in. “At least they’re trying to help the people of our village; what have you ever done?”

Addison could hear several other voices from the older men in the crowd agreeing, making it abundantly apparent that he should go back to his store. Addison wasn’t very popular in Galvin, but the Mystols, Sylvars, and Gors were. He looked around, aggravated, not sure what he should do.

“I think you should leave, Addison,” said Gwen, stepping between the men, frowning and highly upset at what had just happened. “The Sylvars and Gors have done a lot more to help our community than you ever have!”

Many people in the steadily growing crowd nodded their agreement, and several more began yelling at Addison to go back to his store and mind his own business. Gwen nodded, satisfied, knowing the community was on her side. No one was siding with Addison. “Now go back to your store before this gets any worse!”

Seeing that he had no open support from the crowd and not wanting to look more foolish, Addison fixed Damon and Aldin with a final, stormy glare. “Someday you’ll get yours. This isn’t over by a long shot!” Addison and his two cronies turned and strode back toward his store without a single backward glance.

The crowd, seeing that the ruckus was over, began to break up. Several walked over and patted Kalvin on the back before walking off.

“Let’s get all this unloaded,” said Gwen, still feeling upset by what had just occurred while picking up a basket of vegetables. “The sooner we have everything inside, the better off we will be.”

-

Later, Gwen sat across from Kalvin, who was sitting at one of the small tables in the corner of the store with a forlorn look on his face. “You really care for her, don’t you?” Gwen said gently, looking into Kalvin’s troubled eyes, the hint of a smile touching her face.

“What?” Kalvin blurted out surprised, his face blushing.

“Lynol, I mean,” replied Gwen, nodding, her eyes twinkling as if they held some humorous secret. “You’re in love with Lynol and don’t know what to do about it. That’s why you jumped Addison outside; it wasn’t just his comment about your sister, it was because he mentioned Lynol too. Your father is very proud of you,” she continued, her gaze unwavering as she studied him with a gentle smile. “He knows why you shoved Addison.”

“I didn’t think it was that obvious,” Kalvin said dejectedly, looking down at the table, turning up his hands, and keeping his voice low so his father and Damon wouldn’t hear. Then, looking up into Gwen’s kind eyes, he continued. “Lynol has been so busy we don’t get to spend a lot of time together anymore.”

“Just give her time, dear,” Gwen said softly, smiling and reaching out to touch his hand in a motherly fashion. “Lynol is a bright young girl, and I’m sure things will work out. I have a feeling you may be in for a pleasant surprise one of these days.”

Kalvin’s eyes glowed remembering the kiss. He looked up, and part of a smile touched his mouth. Perhaps Gwen was right, maybe a little patience was all he actually needed. After all, hadn’t Lynol already made the first tentative move? Then again, there was Gilmreth and the prophecy. Kalvin was afraid the time he and Lynol needed wasn’t there. His smile slowly faded as the reality of the situation set in.

-

At the store’s counter, Damon, Aldin, and Tohm, who had just returned from his deliveries, were talking about the rumors that were flying around hot and furious. The stories coming in from the traders and occasional traveler were hard to believe. They were of horror and madness across the mountains in Draydon.

“I had a trader in yesterday who stopped briefly in Draydon,” commented Tohm, shaking his head worriedly. “The people are being used almost as slaves, nearly the entire city has been torn down, and new buildings are being constructed. They’re hauling massive stones from Firestorm Mountain itself! There’s an enormous quarry where stones are being chiseled out of the mountain to be used for all the construction. It’s next to impossible to get any trade goods out of Draydon anymore. The merchants that used to run the town are barely more than servants now. They’re afraid to resist this woman!”

Pausing, Tohm looked at Damon, his eyes growing wider. “That dragon of yours is actually real! I never would have believed it, but the stories continue to pour in.”

“I always said the dragon was real,” Damon replied with a nod.

“This Jalene Leyne has set herself up as ruler in Draydon,” Tohm continued. “She’s built this great white temple in the center of town where sacrifices are made to the dragon on a regular basis. Human sacrifices; can you believe that!” Tohm exclaimed with a disgusted look on his face.

“There were human sacrifices in the past,” Damon replied sadly, recalling what had happened long ago. “Many years ago the villagers made sacrifices to Gilmreth to appease the dragon.”

“Now it’s started again,” replied Tohm, shaking his head. “The entire town turns out and a huge feast is held after each sacrifice. The dragon sits on top of the temple completely under this vile woman’s control. They say she is a sorceress, an actual sorceress! She has even created a caste of priests and temple guards to ensure her bidding is done without question. Could she actually be a sorceress, Damon?”

“She could be,” replied Damon cautiously, his mind taking in all the information Tohm was supplying. “There have been women sorceresses before.”

“Let’s just hope she stays content to rule the far side of the mountain,” Aldin commented. “I hear she has sent the dragon to force many of the farmers and villagers in many of the far outlying regions to go to Draydon, forcing them to work at her temple and on these new construction projects.”

“Yes,” replied Tohm, nodding his head. “The dragon has reportedly destroyed entire villages because they refused to obey this woman, burning them to the ground with dragon fire. How can anyone be so callous and inhuman?”

“This sounds bad,” muttered Aldin, listening to Tohm. “I don’t see how things can get much worse over in Draydon. It must be a nightmare to live there now.”

“Workers are being forced to work nonstop, sometimes until they collapse from fatigue,” Tohm continued with a deep worried look. “It’s beyond your wildest nightmare!”

“That sorceress and the dragon are a bad combination,” Damon said with a worried frown on his face. The stories coming from Draydon were truly troublesome.

“Most of the traders are avoiding Draydon completely now,” spoke Tohm, looking over at where Kalvin and his wife were sitting talking. “There are only a few from some of the far outlying villages, which are still running. I fear even those will soon stop. What are we going to do when the dragon shows up here and they demand that we go to work in her city? It’s coming, I’m afraid. It’s only a matter of time.”

“Let’s wait and see what happens,” replied Damon, trying not to sound worried lest he upset Tohm anymore. “So far the dragon has stayed on the far side of the mountain. It may continue to do so for quite some time.”

“What’s been going on here in Galvin? I guess Addison is still trying to stir up trouble?” Aldin asked, still aggravated about the incident earlier and almost wishing they hadn’t stopped Kalvin from striking the man. Maybe Addison could use some sense knocked into his thick, insensitive head. He definitely would have deserved it!

“Addison has been making trouble for days now,” Tohm replied with a deep sigh. “Almost every night you can find him in the tavern complaining about trade and customers not being able to pay.”

“Not too surprising,” Aldin spoke. “Addison always has liked the tavern to much. A drinking man should learn how to keep his mouth shut!”

“He has even suggested that we should send a delegation to this sorceress to see if she would be willing to reestablish trade with this side of the mountain,” Tohm said worriedly.

“He can’t be serious!” muttered Aldin, shaking his head in disbelief. “That would be very dangerous.”

There are a lot of trade goods neither of us is getting from Draydon anymore,” replied Tohm, glancing at some of the empty shelves in his store. “That has just angered him even further. He just doesn’t seem to understand what is happening in Draydon and how dangerous it is. He’s dead serious about sending someone to Draydon to try to get the trade goods flowing again.”

“That would be crazy!” exclaimed Aldin with a dark frown crossing his face. “We don’t need to draw this sorceress’ attention to us. She seems to have forgotten about us for now. We need to leave it that way!”

“I fear this supposed sorceress hasn’t forgotten about us,” Damon interjected with a deep sigh. “There’s a reason she hasn’t sent the dragon after us. She may be consolidating her power on the far side of the mountains before she moves against us. I’m afraid we will eventually hear from her regardless of what we do.”

They were all silent for a moment. None of them wanted to think about what would happen when that day arrived. Aldin and Damon knew that, on that day, Lynol might have to face the dragon!

“When she does, what will we do?” Tohm asked worriedly, looking back over at Gwen and Kalvin, who were talking and laughing at the small table in the back corner of the store. He couldn’t quite hear what they were saying. It pleased him immensely that Gwen so enjoyed the company of the Sylvar and Gor children. “What will we do when this dragon shows up here?”

“I don’t know,” Damon replied, not wanting to reveal anything about Lynol, not even to Tohm. “We will just have to wait and see what happens, and then deal with it when it does. So, Addison has been causing problems?”

“Addison and his friends are extremely jealous of your farms,” Tohm spoke, his forehead creasing in a frown. Gwen had already told him about what happened earlier. “He has made it plain that if he had control of your lands, things would be different.”

“How so?” asked Aldin, his eyes narrowing. “Everything extra we raise we bring to the village. Even our lands will only produce so much.”

“The man only sees profit,” Tohm replied glumly, shaking his head sadly. “I’m his main competitor. Because of Gwen and I, he has to keep his prices down to stay competitive. If not for the extra supplies you two bring in, half this village would be starving. Addison, if he controlled your land, would raise his prices, and if the people starved, they would just have to starve! The man could care less about their wellbeing.”

“You do a good service to the people of the village,” Aldin said with a compassionate nod. “The people know they can depend on you.”

“He will never have our land, and we will see to it the villagers don’t run short of food,” replied Damon, determinedly. He knew if Lynol could keep their gardens and crops producing as they were, people going hungry in the village would be a thing of the past. “Addison needs to worry about his own farms. They’re farmed so poorly it’s a miracle they produce anything.”

-

They continued to talk about what was happening over the mountain. There were so many stories flying about it was difficult to ascertain truth from fiction. Eventually, they were ready to return home. After loading up the few supplies they needed, Tohm walked the two men back out to the waiting wagon. There was no sign of Addison in front of his store, but the three men knew he was probably inside, watching.

“If Addison gives you any trouble, let us know,” said Damon, looking towards Addison’s store.

“He won’t bother us,” replied Tohm, appreciating the offer. “We have too many friends in the village, and Addison knows it. He overstepped himself today. It will be quite some time before he causes any trouble again.”

“I hope you’re right,” replied Damon, looking back at Tohm.

Gwen and Kalvin came out of the store with Kalvin holding a small bag of sweets Gwen was sending back for the girls. Climbing into the back of the wagon Kalvin sat down, smiling gratefully at Gwen. The sweets would give him an excuse to see Lynol! Maybe he could discover just what that surprising kiss implied. He had really enjoyed his talk with Gwen.

“Come back and see me soon,” Gwen said to Kalvin with a motherly all-knowing smile. “Tell that sister of yours and Lynol to stop by too.”

Her smile lingered as she watched the wagon and the three men depart. She felt a slight touch of sadness, realizing how quickly Kalvin, Dresdia, and Lynol were growing up. They weren’t children any longer!

-

Later that evening, as the sun began to set and darkness spread, Gilmreth began stirring beneath Firestorm Mountain. A red glow surrounded the dragon as he was summoned. Coming awake, the dragon’s yellowish red eyes flicked suddenly open. The dark slits of his pupils stared around the lair, his eyes penetrating the darkness. Listening to the summons, the dragon took to the air with a mighty whoosh of his wings.

In moments, Gilmreth was flying rapidly down the long dark tunnel. Gilmreth burst into the early night with a bestial roar, sending fiery red dragon flame up into the chilly air announcing his appearance. Flying high above the mountain, Gilmreth beat his powerful wings in a southwesterly direction.

The moon was high when Gilmreth reached the sleeping village that was his destination. For several long minutes, the dragon slowly and methodically circled the silent village, preparing for the kill, anticipating what he was about to do. Gilmreth was a deadly predator, and he was about to do what he did best.

Suddenly sweeping down out of the night sky, the great dragon screamed out a loud, challenging roar and let loose a torrent of red-hot flames across the center of the helpless village. Several homes burst into flames from his dragon fire. The flames spread quickly, jumping from one house to the next. Gilmreth let loose with more torrents of deadly flame until the entire center of the small village began to burn. In only a matter of a few moments, loud screams and panicked voices could be heard as people realized their homes were ablaze. The attack had been sudden and devastating, taking the unsuspecting village totally by surprise.

Terrorized and confused, villagers began pouring from their burning homes. Gilmreth’s piercing roar split the night air, drawing the villagers’ attention to the dragon as he landed next to a small house. Using his powerful talons, Gilmreth tore the house to shreds searching for victims to feed his hunger. Villagers screamed and ran away in panic when they saw what had landed in their midst. It was the fearsome dragon they had heard so much about!

The night turned fiery red as dragon flame licked through the air, incinerating everything and everyone it touched. In panic, the frightened villagers frantically searched for their children and other family members. They tried to flee from the rapidly spreading fire and smoke. The heat was unbearable and the smoke and drifting ash were everywhere, making seeing difficult. Screams and loud shouts echoed through the small village. It was becoming difficult to see the rampaging dragon, which had descended into their midst.

With impudence Gilmreth took to the air, flying above the fleeing people, swooping down to pluck a helpless terrified villager off the ground to dangle from his vice like talons. A horrified scream was cut off as Gilmreth tightened his grip on his victim. Alighting upon a small hilltop, Gilmreth fed ravenously on the villager, devouring the feeble life force from the man.

Rising, Gilmreth struck with his dragon fire again and again until the entire village was in roaring, towering flames. A virtual firestorm encompassed the village, consuming everything in burning flame and searing heat. Ashes floated thickly in the air, and heavy smoke tainted with the foul stench of dragon fire spread across the land. There were screams everywhere, husbands calling for their wives, mothers screaming frantically for their missing children. It was total chaos in the burning village.

The night air was still, with little or no wind. There was nothing to dissipate the smoke and floating ashes. People ran fleeing from the village into the night, seeking shelter wherever they could find it.

The burning red fire lit up the landscape, making Gilmreth’s hunting easier. Gilmreth circled above the burning village, watching as the surviving humans fled into the countryside. This was what he had been waiting for. It made his hunting easier with the humans out in the open.

The light from the fire, the moon, and the dragon’s excellent night vision made the villagers’ efforts to hide futile. Time after time, the dragon picked up fleeing villagers, their screams choked off in his powerful grip. He fed upon the young and old alike, seeking more victims each time he took to the air.

Just prior to dawn the dragon was satiated, his burning appetite nearly curbed. Gilmreth left the devastated village and began flying slowly back toward Firestorm Mountain. Of the two hundred and some odd people that had lived in the village of Canton, less than twenty lived to see the light of day. Their stories of horror would spread like wildfire. By the end of the day, the entire area would know of the dragon’s lethal attack.

-

In far off Draydon, her heart still pounding, Jalene had watched the killing and destruction with the Stone of Loraine. She’d stood utterly enthralled, a blood hungry gleam upon her face, as Gilmreth killed again and again! She had felt his blood lust and his burning desire to feed, and for a while it almost seemed as if she were the dragon her mind connected with his.

“No one can stand against me!” she gloated, speaking to herself, softly running her hands sensuously over her breasts and stomach, feeling the heated effects of Gilmreth’s rampage.

Jalene was wearing a long, high-necked silken black robe, belted loosely around her waist. She was tempted to call in one of the male guards, but the intimacy of physical pleasure was one thing she didn’t allow herself to indulge in. She despised men too much! She walked over to a cabinet and took down a crystal glass and a bottle of rich red wine. Pouring some into the glass, she took a small drink, enjoying the rich, smooth taste. She knew the wine would help calm her down.

Walking over to the balcony, holding the glass in her left hand, she stepped out to stare out over her city. It was just before dawn. The air was warm and humid, the sky a dark purple. The torches on top of the temple flickered and popped, casting an unnatural glow over the sleeping city. In another year’s time, her city would be completed, or at least its heart, which surrounded the great temple. Already, tall white buildings and beautiful spires rose into the air, majestic testimony to her leadership and the fear she commanded.

The sacrifices she presided over held the city's inhabitants captive, helpless pawns in the palm of her hand. Already the ranks of her temple guards had swelled considerably; more applicants appeared daily for priesthood and the benefits thereof. Soon, all the people living would be gathered in and around Draydon under her absolute control. She would be their supreme ruler.

One thing which did concern her was Gilmreth’s continued refusal to fly to any of the villages on the east side of Firestorm Mountain. Several times she had willed the dragon to do so, and each time the dragon had flown back to his lair, staying there until the next sacrifice, not carrying out Jalene’s commands. Jalene suspected it had something to do with some past occurrence which the dragon remembered.

She knew Malcon Sylvar, the sorcerer who had put Gilmreth to sleep, had lived east of the mountain. Perhaps some deep-seated memory connected with that powerful sorcerer still prevented Gilmreth from obeying her commands, perhaps from the very time that Sylvar had put Gilmreth to sleep in his lair.

It made her uneasy knowing the dragon could disobey her. Just how much control over the dragon did she actually have? Faintly, a voice in the back of Jalene’s mind whispered that she had unleashed a monster, a terrifying creature that could destroy everything if she didn’t destroy it first. But then again, she had the Stone of Loraine. Not even Gilmreth could resist that!

Glancing at the Stone of Loraine, which lay safely in its case where she had just placed it, her fears abated but not entirely. She would watch Gilmreth more closely in the future. The sacrifices should keep Gilmreth docile enough. She turned her thoughts back to her own side of the mountain. Gilmreth could wait for now.

She took another small drink of the rich red wine, enjoying its taste. She swirled the liquid in her glass, watching its red color flow about inside. It was possible that a few Sylvars still lived in one of the few isolated villages to the east. She had heard of nobody else practicing sorcery other than herself.

When the time was right, she would send some of her temple guards to the eastern villages to bring the people to Draydon. If some Sylvars were found to have survived, they might make an excellent choice to be sacrificed. There was also rumored to be a sacrificial altar somewhere on the far side of the mountain; maybe a sacrifice to Gilmreth at that altar would bring those villages into line.

If there was a sacrifice and it was a Sylvar offered, surely the dragon would fly to the altar. If it were memories of Malcon Sylvar that kept Gilmreth from attacking the villages on the far side of the mountain and she could sacrifice a Sylvar to allow Gilmreth to get his revenge on the Sylvar family, then perhaps her power over Gilmreth would be complete. Thoughts of actually finding a living Sylvar to sacrifice made Jalene’s thoughts fly. The ceremony she could build around such a sacrifice! This was certainly something to be looked into.

Walking back to the center of the room, Jalene picked up and rang a finely crafted silver bell that lay upon the table next to the Stone of Loraine. A guard immediately appeared. When Jalene called, quick obedience was the only safe recourse.

“Have my breakfast sent up immediately,” she ordered coldly. “Also, send word to the High Priest to join me as soon as possible. We have plans to make!”

-

Lynol rolled tiredly out of bed. She stood slowly, gathering her thoughts. It had been a long night, spent mostly without sleep. She had felt horribly uneasy as if a terrible evil was being committed somewhere far away. When she had finally managed to fall asleep, her dreams were pervaded by nightmares of Gilmreth flying down to the sacrificial altar at the base of Firestorm Mountain. Someone was chained to the altar, with men dressed in red robes surrounding the stone base. Lynol could never see the face of the chained woman though she could hear the woman calling out to Lynol for help. These were the types of nightmares she could do without. There were very few nights recently that Gilmreth didn’t invade her dreams.

Walking lightly with bare feet on the cool stone floor to the kitchen, Lynol opened up the shutters on the large window and stared quizzically out at Firestorm Mountain and the dragon that slept there during the day. Still feeling terribly uneasy, she reached tentatively out toward the mountain with her sorcery. She reeled in surprise when she couldn’t locate Gilmreth in his lair. His evil, dark mind wasn’t there or anywhere nearby. The dragon was always in his lair by the time the sun rose!

“Jalene, what are you up to?” Lynol murmured, concerned. “What have you caused Gilmreth to do now?” Maybe there was a reason for her nightmares and restless sleep.

Jalene had no idea of what the dragon was capable of. She was playing with fire, and Lynol knew it was only a matter of time before that deadly fire burned Jalene. Worse, once Jalene lost control of the dragon Gilmreth would destroy everything and everyone. Malcon had told her many stories about the dragon and the carnage it had done during his days.

Stepping out onto the porch, Lynol sat down upon the top step staring worriedly at the mountain. She could hardly see the mountain or the nearby meadows, which were cloaked in early morning fog. A light morning breeze ruffled her hair, cooling her face. Her attention shifted to the Sylvar Stone lying quiescently beyond the teeming garden.

Malcon had told her that in a few more months, when she was more advanced in her studies, she would have to make a journey to Firestorm Mountain. She shifted uneasily on the step. It was unusually quiet, without even the normal drone of morning insects or birds. The cattle in the fog-shrouded meadows were silent. Even the animals and insects seemed to sense that something wasn’t right.

Lynol had been surprised at the disclosure from Malcon that she would have to go to Firestorm Mountain. Under intense questioning, she learned why the trip had to be made. Before Malcon Sylvar died in his final confrontation with Gilmreth, he had learned of an unbelievable secret concealed deep within the mountain. A secret so breathtaking he hadn’t dared to reveal it to any of his surviving relatives, not even his brother or son. However, the simulacrum of Malcon in the dais knew part of the secret and had explained to Lynol that it would soon become necessary for her to explore beneath the mountain. The secrets it contained could very well tell them how to defeat the dragon and the evil sorceress in Draydon. It seemed Firestorm Mountain still held and protected many of its ancient secrets.

From what Lynol understood Malcon, on one of his distant journeys, had found the home of one of the ancient sorcerers who had helped to create the dragons. It was the home of the sorcerer Ramael, who had been banished. The small stone house had been crumbling with age, but beneath it an underground room had survived. In this room, Malcon had found the sleeping spell to put Gilmreth to sleep. But more importantly, he discovered that Firestorm Mountain was where the dragons had been created.

Deep within the mountain was a labyrinth of corridors, rooms, and mysteries from the Golden Age of the ancients. In the diary written by the long dead sorcerer it was revealed that many of the secrets of that time were preserved in stasis deep within, similarly to how the crypt beneath the Sylvar Stone had been preserved. Somewhere inside were the secrets as to how Gilmreth and the other dragons had been created.

If Lynol could get into the complex under the mountain and find that information, perhaps a weakness could be found that would allow them to defeat Gilmreth and perhaps even the other sorceress. Malcon’s simulacrum had been teaching Lynol much about the Golden Age. His library contained several rare books describing that magnificent time. They had also translated Ramael’s diary, though the sleeping spell and a number of other pages were missing from it. What was left was a detailed description of the complex of the ancients beneath Firestorm Mountain.

With relief, Lynol sensed Gilmreth returning to his lair. Lightly touching his mind, she recoiled in horror at what she found. The dragon’s thoughts were full of death and destruction! With a heavy heart, Lynol knew the dragon had destroyed yet another village on the western side of the mountain. For several long minutes, Lynol wondered how Jalene could send the dragon to do so much killing. She felt tears run down her cheeks and was more determined than ever to stop both the dragon and Jalene.

The old rooster crowing loudly at the rising sun interrupted Lynol’s thoughts. She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. Standing up, she went back inside to prepare breakfast but her appetite had gone away.

Chapter Eleven

Fall, winter, and spring passed fleetingly by. It was early summer and Lynol stood determinedly before her father. She knew what she was about to propose wouldn’t set well with him, but she had discussed it with Malcon’s simulacrum and the trip to Firestorm Mountain could no longer be delayed. Events in Draydon were unfolding too fast, and if they didn’t move quickly, they might never be able to make the trip. She stood before her father with a new confidence and maturity forced upon her by the chilling reality of the situation.

“Malcon says I must go to the mountain and explore the ancient complex that lies beneath. Inside it I might find the secret to defeating Gilmreth.” Lynol paused, seeing the worry that instantly appeared upon her father’s face. They had discussed this trip before with her father soundly against the idea “I know you think it’s too risky, but the longer we put this off the more dangerous it becomes!”

“Malcon has told me about the complex,” replied Damon, running his hand through his graying hair with a worried frown crossing his face. “He also told me that he didn’t know what type of shape the place is in or if it’s even safe to enter!”

“Gilmreth goes in and out whenever he feeds,” Lynol replied, her eyes focusing on her father. “Getting in shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Why take such a risk? It will put you in extremely close proximity to Gilmreth. What if the dragon senses you and comes out from his lair? You still have a lot more to learn from Malcon. I just want you to be stronger in your abilities before you try something like this. No, Lynol; I just don’t think the risk is worth it,” said Damon, shaking his head and looking into his daughter’s eyes. “You need to put this trip off; it’s just too dangerous!”

“But Father,” Lynol persisted, turning her light blue eyes to meet her father’s. “Malcon says that the deepest parts of the complex are protected from decay by some type of science of the ancients and that once I enter that section Gilmreth won’t be able to reach me even if he does become aware of my presence.”

“Gilmreth!” Damon muttered with a grimace looking intently at his daughter. “You will be so close to the dragon. He has killed thousands of people over the years. I don’t want you to be next!”

“I don’t like the idea any better than you do, but what other choice do we have?” asked Lynol, wanting her father to understand. She brushed her dark brown hair back from her eyes and then continued. “What if the secret to defeating the dragon is in the complex and we don’t go? We know that sorcery alone can’t defeat Gilmreth. Lys and Malcon both tried that. Look what happened to the two of them. I don’t want to meet the same fate. This may be our only chance, my only chance, and I have to take it!”

“I know what’s at stake,” Damon replied quietly with growing concern on his face. He wondered if he was being too overly protective. Lynol was only doing what she thought she had to do.

“Father, you must trust me in this,” Lynol pleaded. She knew her father was hesitant. He greatly feared the path that Lynol was on. But she was a Sylvar, the only Sylvar sorceress! What else could she do? “Without going to the mountain, we may never find a way to destroy Gilmreth!”

Damon stood up from the chair he’d been sitting in at the kitchen table. Walking over to the large window, he gazed out pensively at Firestorm Mountain. He knew Lynol had learned a lot of sorcery from Malcon. She was rapidly becoming a powerful sorceress, but there was danger in going to the mountain; he just wasn’t convinced it was worth it. “The only way I would let you go is if I go with you. I don’t believe you should be upon that infernal mountain alone, no matter how strong your sorcery has become.”

“No Father, you must remain here. I can get Kalvin to go to the mountain with me. I would be just as safe with Kalvin as I would be with you,” Lynol spoke in a determined voice. She had already decided to make the trip, even without her father’s permission. She hated the thought, but she felt she had no other choice. Events in Draydon were just too frightening. Very soon, something would have to be done about Gilmreth.

“Kalvin,” Damon said, his tone slightly reproving, knowing that Aldin wouldn’t like that idea either.

He turned away from the window, facing Lynol. He knew that Kalvin had very strong feelings for his daughter, and he suspected Lynol felt the same about Kalvin but had never voiced it. Now was not the time for romance; too much was at stake. The two needed to understand that.

“Yes, Father; Kalvin!” Lynol replied firmly, folding her arms determinedly across her chest. “You know Kalvin would never let anything happen to me. I have already talked to Malcon about this and he agrees that Kalvin would be an excellent choice.”

Damon knew from the determined look on Lynol’s face that there was nothing he could say to dissuade her. “When would you go, if I agree to allow Kalvin to go in my place?”

“We would leave tomorrow afternoon,” replied Lynol, knowing her father was about to give in. “I have already spoken to Kalvin and he’s supposed to meet me at the lower meadow. We will camp at the base of the mountain tomorrow night, and from there we should be able to reach the entrance to the mountain complex by late morning the next day.”

“You already have all of this planned out, don’t you?” Damon said uneasily, realizing just how much Lynol had grown up the last several years. “As much as I would like to say no, I don’t see how I can, particularly if Malcon says this has to be done. If you and Kalvin aren’t back when you’re supposed to be Aldin and I will come looking for you. I don’t know how Aldin will take the idea of the two of you going up on that mountain alone.”

“I've already talked to Aldin,” replied Lynol, lowering her eyes and recalling her conservation the day before with Kalvin’s father. It had taken a lot of convincing from both her and Kalvin before he finally agreed. “He didn’t like the idea either, but I assured him that Kalvin and I would be quite safe.”

“That must have taken a lot of convincing,” said Damon grudgingly, realizing that Lynol was one step ahead of him. He was still trying to think of a legitimate reason to stop her from going.

“It did,” admitted Lynol, letting out a long breath. “But once I explained how important it was, he relented.”

“Are you sure that I shouldn’t go with the two of you?” asked Damon, knowing he would be worried stiff the entire time until the two young people returned.

“No Father, only Kalvin and myself. The fewer people I have to worry about, the better,” Lynol persisted, not wanting to argue with her father anymore. “My sorcery is strong enough that I can protect both Kalvin and myself from any danger. Malcon and I have discussed all of this in great detail. Look Father, I don’t like the idea of going to the mountain very much either. If there was any other way, I wouldn’t do it. Nevertheless, our best chance of defeating Gilmreth and possibly this other sorceress may depend on what we find inside Firestorm Mountain. This is something that has to be done!”

Damon and Lynol spent several more hours discussing the trip to the mountain. In the end, he reluctantly agreed to allow Kalvin and Lynol to go. It was just something they had to talk out.

-

Later the next day, Lynol met Kalvin in the lower meadow. She carried a small pack and sleeping bag, while Kalvin carried a much larger pack. He also had his large hunting knife strapped to his belt.

“So it’s back to Firestorm Mountain,” Kalvin spoke softly, looking at the towering mountain miles away, a few puffy white clouds partially screening the high summit.

“Yes,” Lynol replied, trying to sound calm. “Just the two of us this time.”

This trip worried her, and she felt terribly uneasy. She would be so close to Gilmreth. It would take everything she had not to show Kalvin how nervous and frightened she was.

When Lynol first mentioned this trip Kalvin had tried everything he could think of to talk her out of it. He had no desire to go that close to the mountain again, especially now that Gilmreth was awake. Malcon’s simulacrum said it was necessary, that Lynol’s very survival might depend on this trip to the mountain. Who was he to doubt the most powerful sorcerer ever to live?

They hadn’t gone near the mountain since they had found the sacrificial altar. The only one that knew about that trip and what had transpired with the two deadly cats was Malcon’s simulacrum. They had never told their parents about that little trip of theirs or how it had almost turned into a disaster for the three of them.

This would also be the first time that he would have an opportunity to spend some time alone with Lynol in months; his sister always seemed to be hovering around when they were together. It was almost as if Dresdia was making sure they had no private time for themselves.

They walked towards the mountain talking about the weather, the gardens, Lynol’s sorcery training with Malcon, and finally just normal things that all young people would discuss. Lynol was interested in how Kalvin was making out with WhiteStorm and how soon they would all be able to ride him.

“Soon,” replied Kalvin, adjusting the straps on his pack slightly. “That horse is highly spirited and is going to make a fine animal. I've been working with him every day for a few hours. Maybe next time you can get away we can try you and Dresdia in the saddle.”

“That would be great!” Lynol exclaimed with some excitement entering into her voice.

She loved horses, but the ones on their farm were workhorses. They were used to work the fields or to pull their wagon. The horses could be ridden and occasionally were, but for the most part they were only used for fieldwork.

“I can’t wait to see you ride him,” replied Kalvin, smiling, pleased with Lynol’s enthusiasm.

-

Several hours later, Lynol looked up apprehensively toward Firestorm Mountain as they steadily drew nearer. Soon they would be at the foot of the mountain and would have to set up camp. Every so often she would use her sorcery to see if she could sense any wild animals, but she could find nothing.

It was early evening when they reached the foot of the mountain and the area they wanted to camp. They were several miles to one side of the cleft that led to the sacrificial altar. After searching for an hour, they chose a small outcropping of rock that provided some shelter yet shielded them from direct view of the mountain.

“This should do just fine,” said Kalvin, satisfied as he looked around at the location they had chosen.

It was a sandy area strewn with a few rocks and several large boulders. There was a small cliff with an overhang they could camp beneath for the night.

“This should give us some protection from the cold, and the overhang will keep us shielded from view in case Gilmreth ventures forth,” spoke Kalvin, hoping the dragon stayed asleep on this night.

He was also a little concerned about those cats showing up again. It was only a few miles from the cleft entrance to the sacrificial altar. They were probably camping in the cats’ hunting territory.

“This will be okay,” replied Lynol, sliding her small pack and sleeping bag off her shoulders and laying them against a small boulder. “Don’t worry about those cats, Kalvin. Now that I know what to look for, they won’t be able to sneak up on us. I’ve checked and they are nowhere close.”

“That’s good to know,” he replied, feeling slightly more at ease. He had his long knife, but he knew that Lynol would use her sorcery to protect them if needed. He just hoped that it wouldn’t become necessary.

Lynol stretched, trying to ease the stiffness in her shoulders and back from wearing the pack all afternoon. She loosened the straps on her pack and took out her canteen of water. Taking several small sips, she gazed speculatively around their prospective campsite.

Kalvin began clearing off an area of ground, tossing small rocks and stones out of the way so they would have a relatively level area to sleep free of obstructions. He wanted to get their camp set up as soon as possible before it got dark. Darkness would descend very quickly once the sun passed behind the mountains. The night chill wouldn’t be far behind.

They had an hour or so before the sun disappeared and then it would be too dark to do anything. Lynol knew they would need as much rest as possible for their ascent of the mountain in the morning. Stepping back away from the overhang, Lynol gazed up at Firestorm Mountain towering above her. Snow still covered its summit, and the dark cliffs and slopes looked foreboding.

She knew Gilmreth was asleep inside the mountain; she could sense him with her mind. She shivered slightly from her slight contact with the sleeping dragon. If Gilmreth emerged from his mountain lair, Lynol didn’t want to be in plain sight. The overhang they were camping under should prevent that. Lynol would keep a close check on the dragon tonight to make sure he stayed asleep. If Gilmreth did stir, she wanted to be aware of it so they could seek better shelter if necessary.

Stepping back under the slight overhang of rock, she thought it would be safe for them to build a small campfire to shield them from the chill mountain air. It was going to be bad enough sleeping out in the open this close to Gilmreth. A warm campfire would make both of them feel more secure.

“I think it would be safe for us to build a small campfire beneath the overhang,” Lynol pointed out as she looked at where she thought a safe spot for the fire would be. “It’s going to start getting cold soon.”

“Sounds great!” replied Kalvin, taking a brief break to take a sip of water.

The fire would give them some light instead of sitting around in the darkness. He still remembered very well the incident with the two cats the last time they had come to the mountain. He had no desire to experience that again in the dark, even though Lynol had assured him the cats weren’t around.

Kalvin finished clearing a reasonable size area for their camp, piling up a number of small rocks and stones in a small circle for the campfire. There wasn’t a lot of large wood available, but some of the dried and dead shrubs and bushes that were around would do just fine.

“That should do for now,” he said, surveying what he had accomplished with a satisfied look on his face. “Let’s gather up some of these dried up bushes, and I saw a few small pieces of dried wood over on the other side of that large boulder that will work for a fire.”

Lynol looked back over her shoulder in the direction Kalvin was pointing. “I’ll get the wood. Once we get a fire going, I’ll fix us something to eat.”

Lynol moved off in the direction Kalvin had pointed and found what looked like the remains of a small tree that had withered and died. The branches were easy to break apart, and when she was finished, she had a surprisingly large pile of wood. This will do just fine, she thought.

Getting back to Kalvin, it didn’t take long for the two of them to have a small fire burning. Lynol was very pleased with the reassuring warmth it was putting out. It was already getting dark and the fire helped light up the inside of the overhang. She sat on a small flat rock holding out her hands toward the warming fire. Kalvin was also sitting on another small rock poking the fire with a stick, watching a few yellowish red embers float lazily up into the night sky.

“This should keep us warm,” he said, content with the fire.

“Yes,” replied Lynol, reaching for her backpack. “I’ll cook us some food. Warm food will help to take the chill away.”

Kalvin wondered what Lynol was going to cook. He doubted if she had an apple pie in her backpack.

Taking a small light cast iron skillet out of her backpack, Lynol began fixing a their food. She’d brought some cured bacon, cheese, and bread for them to eat. She knew they would need all of their energy for what lay ahead tomorrow. A decent meal was just what the two of them needed. Cooking also helped to take her mind off where they were camping.

Kalvin watched Lynol hover over the fire, stealing occasional glances at the enticing curves her jeans and heavy wool shirt did very little to hide. He would just love to take her in his arms and hold her, to feel her warm, soft body up next to his. Chiding himself, Kalvin looked away, not wanting to get lost in a fantasy. This wasn’t the time or the place. He was having too many fantasies about Lynol recently anyway. Maybe Dresdia was right about making sure she was around to chaperone them. Shaking his head, he looked back at Lynol watching her cook. He could hear the bacon sizzling in the frying pan.

“So just what’s supposed to be in this complex the ancients left under Firestorm Mountain?” asked Kalvin, trying to get his mind off Lynol’s captivating body.

Lynol came over to Kalvin, handing him a plate of hot food, and then sat down next to him, almost touching. Her close proximity made Kalvin even more aware of his feelings toward her. Kalvin took several bites of food, trying not to show his tenseness at Lynol being so close.

“The ancients created the dragons underneath the mountain,” replied Lynol, recalling her conversation with Malcon. “Part of the complex deep within the mountain is still supposed to exist. It’s there that he hopes we will be able to find something that might help us defeat Gilmreth and possibly even this other sorceress we have been hearing so much about.”

“What exactly are we hunting for? How will we know when we find something that might be useful?” asked Kalvin, concerned that they might pass up what they needed and not recognize it.

Kalvin was really curious about this old complex of the ancients and the wonders it might contain. He couldn’t imagine anything from that long ago still surviving. He hoped they weren’t embarking on a wild goose chase.

“Malcon has given me some instructions as to what to look for. If we find it, I should be able to recognize it,” Lynol said softly, taking a small bite of her cheese. “The complex is quite extensive, but we are only going into a small section of it.”

Kalvin was silent for a moment as he ate, mulling over Lynol’s words. “I just hope we will be safe; I don’t want anything to happen to you. I don’t like the idea of actually going into Gilmreth’s lair. Are you sure he won’t be able to sense our presence?”

Looking into Kalvin’s eyes, she set her plate down and took Kalvin’s hand in hers. “Don’t worry about that tonight; there will be time enough to worry when we get to the complex tomorrow. Let’s just sit here and enjoy our time together; we don’t seem to get enough of that anymore.” She moved over closer to Kalvin until their shoulders were touching, still holding Kalvin’s hand in hers. They sat in silence for a long time just watching the slowly burning fire.

Kalvin was surprised and pleased that Lynol was so close. He sat their enjoying how close they were and wishing they could spend more time together. He thought about kissing her, but decided with all that was on her mind, now would not be the time.

“We better turn in,” said Lynol, letting go of Kalvin’s hand and standing up. “We’re going to have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

Kalvin nodded and helped Lynol spread out the two bed rolls.

They were close together and as they lay down, Lynol reached out and took Kalvin’s hand. “I’m glad you’re here with me,” she said.

“So am I,” replied Kalvin, giving Lynol’s hand a slight squeeze.

“Now, let’s see if we can get some sleep.” Lynol closed her eyes and tried to relax. She felt safer just knowing Kalvin was next to her.

-

Several times during the night, Lynol awoke. Each time she used her sorcery to check on Gilmreth, making sure the dragon was still asleep in his lair. She also checked for any other unknown dangers that might be lurking around, such as the cats from their previous trip to the mountain. She noticed that Kalvin was keeping the fire fed. Their sleeping bags lay side by side. It was comforting knowing he was so close.

-

It was early afternoon of the next day. Lynol and Kalvin stood staring apprehensively at the open entrance to the mysterious labyrinth, which lay hidden beneath Firestorm Mountain. The sun shone brightly, and the air this high up on the mountain was cold and fresh. According to the information that Malcon possessed, the underground complex of the ancients lay deep within. Lynol wondered just what could have survived after so many years. She had learned so much in the past months, only now had Malcon felt Lynol was ready to explore the complex.

“Remember,” he had said, giving Lynol one of his enigmatic looks with which he was so proficient. “The ancients of the Golden Age built the complex. Their science, their sorcery, created the mysteries hidden and protected deep within. Be cautious, Lynol, you have grown much stronger under my tutelage. You have become a truly powerful sorceress, but you will be extremely close to the dragon’s lair. Use your powers as little as possible lest Gilmreth or the sorceress Jalene detect your presence. They must not become aware of your existence. Our strongest weapon is the fact they don’t know about you. Don’t do anything to risk that upon the mountain. You should be safe enough during the day while the dragon sleeps.”

“This looks dangerous, Lynol,” said Kalvin, frowning with concern and peering around at all the rocks and boulders strewn about the slope. “It looks like something moved these stones,” he added seeing the blackened scorch marks on some of the boulders, the stench of dragon fire still prevalent in the air. “Is Gilmreth asleep in his lair?”

Kalvin felt extremely nervous about being on the mountain and their close proximity to the dragon. But there had been no way he was going to allow Lynol to make this trip by herself. Just getting up to the cave had been difficult enough.

Lynol turned away from where she had been gazing into the large cave entrance. They had started their ascent as soon as the sun was up to ensure that they reached the cave on Firestorm Mountain in the late morning. It had taken them a little longer than expected, and it was now early afternoon. They knew Gilmreth should be sleeping. They had plenty of time to search the interior.

Dresdia had been extremely disappointed at not getting to come when she overheard Lynol speaking to Kalvin about it, but Lynol had convinced her it was just too dangerous. When Dresdia realized how close they would be to Gilmreth she had acquiesced without further argument, though she was extremely worried about Kalvin and Lynol.

Having Kalvin along was risky enough, but Lynol needed someone along she could trust to help in her search. Besides, she had enjoyed the long, quiet evening together with Kalvin. It was some alone time they’d both needed very badly.

It had given them time to talk. They’d sat underneath the cliff holding hands sometimes talking or laughing, and other times just sitting quietly enjoying each other’s company. Her studies had severely limited the amount of time they’d spent together. Fortunately, Kalvin and Dresdia both understood the necessity behind Lynol’s stringent study routine.

From their camping site, they’d followed a winding path leading from the base of the mountain up to the cave. Lynol suspected the path might once have been an ancient road, which served the massive complex beneath Firestorm Mountain. It allowed them to make remarkably good time in reaching the cave entrance. The entrance had been farther up the mountain than she had expected.

Fortifying herself, she reached out tentatively with her mind toward Gilmreth. She could sense the dragon asleep deep within. “Yes,” she replied to Kalvin’s question. “Gilmreth’s asleep and should stay that way until tonight, perhaps longer.” Lynol shuddered and withdrew her mind from the sleeping dragon. She took a deep breath, trying to relax. Touching Gilmreth’s mind always made her feel so unclean afterward.

“I hope so,” responded Kalvin, peering into the black maw of the cave’s entrance. “I don’t want to encounter the dragon inside this mountain.” He wasn’t sure how safe they would be. Just because Gilmreth was asleep now didn’t necessarily mean he would stay so.

“Point taken,” Lynol said in agreement, sliding her pack easily off her back and to the ground.

Reaching inside, she took out two glow bulbs, one of which she handed to Kalvin. “These are from the Golden Age. When properly stimulated, they furnish a bright light, which will allow us to see inside.”

Lynol had gotten the glow bulbs from Malcon’s underground crypt, which was full of various artifacts gleaned from shattered ruins during Malcon’s long years of searches. Some of the artifacts worked, and others did not. Fortunately, these did. She had tested them in Malcon’s crypt under Malcon’s careful instructions.

Kalvin took the glow bulb Lynol handed him. He didn’t ask where she had come up with such a strange and wonderful creation. He figured it must be from the underground crypt where she spent so much time with the simulacrum.

Lynol had taken Kalvin into the crypt this past spring and introduced him to Malcon. He had been awestruck upon realizing to whom he was talking. It also explained Lynol’s rapid growth as a sorceress. Kalvin had felt much better knowing Lynol was learning sorcery from the greatest sorcerer since the Golden Age. He still felt twinges of jealousy at the limited time he spent with Lynol due to the simulacrum’s stringent time-absorbing teaching sessions.

Holding the round globe in his hand, he marveled at its texture and how light it felt. It was perfectly smooth, milky white, and almost cool to the touch. There was so much that they had forgotten through the ages, Kalvin realized while gazing at the small apple sized globe.

Lynol took out her amulet and turned to face Kalvin. After concentrating briefly, the two globes began to glow. “Come on,” she said, reaching out and taking Kalvin’s hand. “Let’s get going; we don’t know how long we may have to be in the mountain. I want to be back out before there is any chance of Gilmreth awakening.”

Kalvin followed Lynol into the cave, soon leaving the sunlit entrance far behind. They descended into the cool depths of the mountain, searching for the underground complex of the ancients. He looked at the glow globe he held, marveling at the light coming from it. He wondered if anything could still be intact in this mountain complex.

After all these years, Kalvin doubted if anything useful could be found, and he wasn’t sure just how safe he and Lynol would be so close to Gilmreth’s underground lair. Malcon thought that part of the complex might still be protected by the science of the ancients, but Kalvin didn’t see how that could be. What could protect anything for thousands of years? Kalvin noticed that their two lighted globes cast a pale radiance off the smooth stone floor and walls surrounding them. The light was a welcome relief in this dark tunnel that seemed to go on and on forever.

“This is unreal!” exclaimed Kalvin stopping to touch one of the tunnel walls, marveling at its texture. It looked like stone but felt unbelievably smooth. It was hard to comprehend that the large tunnel was man made and so well preserved. “How could something like this have existed for so long with no one knowing about it?”

“Firestorm Mountain has always been off limits,” Lynol replied, her light blue eyes visible in the shining light from the globes. She eyed the massive tunnel walls. In front of them, the glow from the bulbs faded away into darkness. “Everyone has always stayed away because of the poisons of the Worldfire, which the mountain is supposed to be permeated with. Probably the entrance was sealed up with all those stones that are lying about, so it would not have been easy to find.”

“What about us, are we being exposed to those poisons?” Kalvin asked concerned, recalling the stunted twisted trees and strange plant growth, which existed sparsely on the desolate slope of the mountain. “Are we safe here under the mountain?”

“Yes,” Lynol replied glad that Kalvin was with her. “The poison for the most part has long since faded away.” Turning, she looked off down the tunnel. “Somewhere up ahead, this big tunnel is supposed to branch off, we want to take the smaller one.”

Kalvin walked next to Lynol, holding her hand. They walked in silence down the long tunnel their footsteps echoing off the walls. Kalvin couldn’t help noticing Lynol’s newfound confidence. He smiled and cast a sidelong glance at Lynol. In the past year, she had changed markedly, not only had she continued to fill out, becoming a beautiful young woman, but also her self-assurance had increased tremendously. No longer was she the frightened skittish young girl of his childhood, this person next to him was very different. But then again, she was a Sylvar, the first Sylvar sorceress in many long generations.

After a period of time, the long tunnel finally branched. To the left a small tunnel led off into darkness. The larger tunnel continued sloping gradually down, Kalvin stood in the center of it frowning. Lynol held up a cautioning hand.

“This place stinks,” Kalvin stated in a low tone not wanting his voice to carry, peering into the distant gloom with obvious distaste. Suppressing an involuntary shudder knowing what the awful stench signified.

“Gilmreth,” replied Lynol, coming to stand next to Kalvin peering into the darkness and repressing a shudder. In the distance, she thought she could faintly hear water dripping. “That tunnel ends in Gilmreth’s lair. If we continue down this main tunnel, we would come face to face with the dragon.”

“We definitely don’t want that,” said Kalvin grimacing, visualizing the horror that lay at the tunnel’s end. The hair rose up tingling along the back of his neck. Shaking his head, Kalvin stepped back, turning to face Lynol. “Gilmreth can’t sense us can he? The dragon can’t detect your sorcery?”

“I don’t know,” Lynol replied uncomfortably and more than a little concerned. Even Malcon’s simulacrum had been worried about this. With Lynol actually inside the complex, there was a remote possibility the dragon might be able to sense her presence if she was forced to use her sorcery. She didn’t even want to try to see if she could sense Gilmreth, to make sure he was still asleep, they were just too close. “Let’s take the smaller tunnel. We will be safe in there. The tunnel is too small for Gilmreth to enter.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” replied Kalvin. Taking one last nervous look down the larger dark tunnel, he followed Lynol into the smaller tunnel feeling relieved once they were safely inside.

The two walked shoulder to shoulder down the small tunnel, a chill at their backs thinking about the horror that lay at the end of the large tunnel. Lynol stopped and slid her backpack off her shoulders. Reaching inside, she took out a small diary written in the flowing script of the ancients. It was the same flowing writing they had found on the wall next to the sacrificial altar.

“Can you actually read that?” Kalvin asked curiously, looking at the strange flowing script the author of the small book had written in.

“It’s the writing of the ancients, the people of the Golden Age,” replied Lynol, skimming through the pages searching for the reference she was seeking. “This is a diary from a sorcerer who lived in this complex.”

“He actually lived here!” exclaimed Kalvin, finding it hard to believe that anyone would want to live underground, a wrinkle of curiosity upon his face. This diary was something else that must have come from Malcon’s crypt.

“Yes,” Lynol replied as she turned the pages. “His name was Ramael, and he helped create the dragons. For some reason, he was banished from this complex. Malcon found this diary in some old ruins, probably where Ramael died during or right after the Worldfire.”

“Created the dragons,” Kalvin said, amazed at the thought. “I can’t believe the forces these ancient sorcerers tampered with. Was there anything they couldn’t do?”

“They couldn’t stop the destruction of the Golden Age,” Lynol reminded Kalvin as she continued to look through the diary.

She had read much about the Golden Age in the crypt. She’d studied about its towering cities, amazing machines, and even its dangerous weapons. Much of it she didn’t understand, nor did Malcon. They could only speculate on some of the meanings.

Finding the page she was seeking, Lynol read several passages, which described this section of the complex.

“We need to continue down this tunnel,” she spoke, placing the diary back in her pack. “It shouldn’t be much farther.”

Lynol stood back up and they continued down the tunnel. In a short time, they started to come across myriads of open and closed doors that hinted of other rooms as well as tunnels that led off in other directions. At the top of each door was an inscription similar to the writing in the diary.

“This place is huge,” muttered Kalvin, stopping and staring into an open room. His glowing light showed the room was empty save for a single chair with a broken leg leaning haphazardly against one wall. “There’s no way we can explore all of this in one afternoon!”

“If the diary is correct, thousands of people once lived and worked here,” Lynol said softly, her voice sounding loud in the silence of the long dead complex. “This place used to be home to a lot of people.”

“Thousands?” replied Kalvin, feeling astonished and trying to imagine that many people in one place. That was more than lived in all the towns and villages on their side of the mountain. He knew that only in Draydon were there that many people.

“I wonder what happened to them?” Kalvin said curiously, looking at all the doors along the tunnel. “Wouldn’t they have been safe from the Worldfire here under the mountain?”

“I don’t know,” Lynol replied. “At the sacrificial altar, the paintings showed them leaving the complex after the Worldfire. Perhaps they couldn’t survive here under the mountain.”

They continued walking down the small tunnel until at last Lynol stopped before a large, sealed metal door to their right. Lynol checked the diary once more, satisfied this was the door they wanted. Reaching out cautiously with her mind, Lynol could sense a strange energy field surrounding the room.

Ever since they had entered this tunnel she had sensed that some type of spell or energy had been harnessed and still existed in this section of the complex. That feeling had been growing steadily as they descended deeper. The mysterious energy was even stronger here at this massive door. She wondered if this was somehow connected to the mysterious stasis field mentioned in the diary. It didn’t feel like a sorcery spell; this felt different, artificial.

“This is where we need to stop first,” said Lynol, nodding to Kalvin as they both stood and stared at the enormous door.

“How are we going to open that door?” Kalvin asked worriedly. The door was gigantic, and he could see no way the two of them could budge it! “That’s a big, heavy door, and it’s locked.”

“With my amulet,” replied Lynol, hoping that with her amulet, she could force the door to open. If she couldn’t, their quest would stop here.

“What about Gilmreth?” asked Kalvin, looking about apprehensively. “If you use your sorcery in here, won’t he sense it? Didn’t Malcon caution you about using your sorcery inside the mountain?”

“Perhaps,” Lynol replied with some concern creeping into her voice as she gazed at the massive door. “But there is no other way to open the door, and we’re quite safe from the dragon in this tunnel.”

Grasping her amulet in her right hand, she focused her thoughts and let her mind reach out to investigate. She could feel the strange locking mechanism that held the door securely shut. The unusual energy didn’t seem to have anything to do with the lock. Using her left hand, she wove a quick spell, which she cast at the locking mechanism. Lynol held her breath and a loud, resounding click echoed down the small tunnel.

Kalvin watched Lynol work her sorcery. Using it in the mountain made him nervous. Kalvin wasn’t worried about the other sorceress so much as he was with Gilmreth. What would the fearsome dragon do if he knew that someone had entered the mountain complex? What if Gilmreth was waiting for them when they tried to leave?

With a satisfied look, Lynol reached out her hand and after a gentle push the metal door swung inward.

“At least the door’s open,” she commented with a smile upon her face, glancing at Kalvin.

Kalvin was surprised at how easily the massive door had opened. He hoped everything else would be just as easy.

Stepping inside, they found they were in a large room, which stretched out fading into gloom where their lights failed to penetrate.

Lynol blinked in surprise as she looked about. The room was full of strange equipment and massive machines. Opening the diary again, Lynol walked over to a strange looking panel on the near wall, which was covered with mysterious dials, switches, and glass coverings.

“What is this place?” asked Kalvin, fighting to keep his curiosity and excitement from bubbling past his wall of self-control. “Why did we come in here?”

It was beyond comprehension just what this room contained. So much knowledge had been lost since the Worldfire! He would love to spend some time just exploring. These machines seemed remarkably well preserved. It was as if time itself had been frozen. He had never seen anything to compare to what was in this room. Nothing like this existed in the outside world.

“What are all these machines for?” Kalvin asked, his eyes wide gazing about. “Does the diary say?”

“If it’s correct, by flipping these two switches it will activate something called an emergency backup power supply. The batteries are supposed to activate something called a standby geo thermal generator.” Lynol said as she studied the diary intently. “It’s supposed to be a backup power source for the complex. Ramael had hoped to return to the complex someday after the Worldfire and felt this power source would remain intact almost indefinitely.”

“I can’t believe it would still work after so many years,” stated Kalvin, watching Lynol dubiously. “It’s been nearly three thousand years; surely it can’t still function! What’s it supposed to do?”

“I don’t know,” replied Lynol, feeling the strange energy field that surrounded everything. “Perhaps the ancients found some way to preserve the energy source.”

Lynol remembered that Malcon’s crypt had been so preserved. Reaching hesitantly out and holding her amulet just in case with her left hand, Lynol flipped the two indicated switches on the large control panel.

The room held a silence so profound it hurt the ears. For a long moment, Lynol feared that the ancient machines would no longer operate, that Kalvin was right, too much time had passed, but then a dim humming noise became discernible, and strange glowing lights began to blink enchantingly on the panel. Then, brilliant lights began to flicker on overhead in the ceiling of the room. In moments, they were standing in white light almost as bright as the afternoon sun. The distant humming settled down and became a steady, unrelenting hum.

“This is unbelievable!” Kalvin cried, astounded, staring around at the equipment filled room.

Equipment that looked strange and inexplicable was everywhere. Massive machines reached nearly to the tall ceiling, and several now seemed to have parts actually turning. It was remarkable that something this old could still work after so many years. How was this possible? It made Kalvin respect the science of the ancients and their sorcery even more. It was difficult for Kalvin to understand how their civilization could have been so thoroughly destroyed with all the power they controlled.

“In Ramael’s diary it mentions something called a stasis field, which supposedly could halt the deterioration from the effects of time,” Lynol explained. “I don’t understand how it works, but I can sense some type of energy present in this entire area of the mountain. Perhaps that’s what surrounds this place, why some of these machines still function.”

“We have lost so much,” Kalvin whispered sadly, gazing at the numerous, captivating machines, their obscure purposes lost centuries in the remote past.

It made Kalvin realize just how limited present day knowledge was. No type of complicated machine existed anymore in the outside world. Things were done the same today as they were a hundred or a thousand years ago. It almost seemed as if the human race had lost its will to learn, to explore new ideas. Perhaps the Worldfire had destroyed man’s desire to discover.

Lynol noticed with some surprise that over half the lights in the ceiling were not working; many had obviously failed with the passing of time. Perhaps the stasis field hadn’t worked quite as well as the ancients had hoped. She also noticed the air seemed fresher, as if it was being circulated somehow.

Lynol wondered what all had been activated when she flipped those switches. Were there lights on in Gilmreth’s lair? Had she woken the dragon by turning on the power to the complex? Reaching out with her mind she cautiously checked on the dragon, and with relief found that Gilmreth still slept. Perhaps what she had turned on only applied to the part of the complex they were in.

“Come on, Kalvin, what we want next is deeper in the complex,” spoke Lynol, turning and walking toward the door.

Kalvin would like to explore the room they were in a little bit more, but he realized the importance of continuing on; their time was severely limited. They had to be away from the mountain before nightfall. Gilmreth might be stirring with the setting of the sun. Nodding, he turned to follow Lynol. Perhaps sometime in the future, he and Lynol could return and explore this complex more thoroughly. If they could defeat Gilmreth and the other sorceress, then someday they could return to this mountain. It held too many secrets that needed to be discovered.

Leaving the strange machine filled room; they found the tunnel dimly lit by widely spaced lights. In some sections, the lights were completely dead, having failed with age. In other sections, all the lights worked. As they walked, Lynol began to feel a bit strange. Looking down at her amulet, which lay on the outside of her shirt, she saw that it was beginning to glow dimly with a light blue radiance, almost pulsing. The blue sapphire stone seemed to have taken on a life of its own.

Seeing her glance, Kalvin saw the light coming from her amulet. “What’s causing that? Are you doing something?”

“I don’t know,” replied Lynol, feeling uneasy. It was almost as if the amulet was trying to tell her where to go. She felt a strange sensation urging her to take a smaller corridor that branched off to the left. “I’m not sure why, but I think we need to go this way,” she said hesitantly, coming to a stop and looking down the passageway.

According to the diary, this would take them away from the room that Malcon and she had decided held their best hope for finding information about Gilmreth. Their goal had been something called a computer operations center. The diary said the room contained all the knowledge of the ancients.

“I hope Gilmreth doesn’t feel your amulet,” Kalvin said worriedly, glancing back down the tunnel behind them.

He knew that Malcon had cautioned Lynol about using her sorcery inside the mountain. Kalvin was also concerned that there was something in the complex affecting Lynol’s amulet. If Gilmreth awoke, the two of them could be trapped in this tunnel!

“Let’s hurry, then,” Lynol responded, also feeling Kalvin’s concern.

The reaction of her amulet from something inside this complex made her apprehensive. What could possibly be affecting it down here? It had never done this before, not even in Malcon’s crypt, unless she was using her sorcery to cast a spell.

Entering the corridor, they walked at a brisk pace, with Lynol’s amulet constantly glowing brighter and brighter. Finally, they stood before another sealed door, and Lynol’s amulet glowed so brightly it could no longer be looked upon without hurting their eyes. Much to their surprise the door slid suddenly open, revealing an extremely small room just large enough for a few people. The mysterious energy field Lynol had been sensing was much stronger here.

“This is getting stranger all the time,” Kalvin muttered quietly, looking nervously about.

“I don’t sense any danger,” said Lynol, looking into the small room before them. “I think we need to continue.”

“Are you sure it’s safe?” asked Kalvin, noticing there wasn’t another exit inside the small room.

“There’s nothing in there,” Lynol pointed out, gesturing with one hand toward the small room. “It’s empty.”

Stepping inside, the two looked at each other questionably and both jumped as the door behind them slid securely and silently shut. The small room started moving downward, gradually falling faster and faster.

“I think this is what the ancients called an elevator,” stated Lynol, trying to sound calm as the small room continued to drop. One of Malcon’s books mentioned that elevators were used to move around in the ancients’ buildings.

She felt butterflies in the pit of her stomach. Just what had she gotten Kalvin and herself into? She had a sudden sinking feeling that they were not going to get out of the complex before nightfall. She tried to use her sorcery, but it was blocked! For some reason, she could sense nothing outside of the elevator.

“When is it going to stop?” Kalvin asked, concerned, his stomach feeling queasy as the small room dropped even more rapidly.

“I don’t know,” Lynol replied, confused and starting to get worried. “It is evidently taking us somewhere deep beneath the mountain; let’s see where it stops.”

“I just hope it does stop,” spoke Kalvin, looking down at his feet, hoping their stop wouldn’t be all too sudden. He had a gloomy picture of the two of them lying crushed at the bottom of this elevator when it came to a crashing halt.

Several moments later, Lynol relaxed as she felt the elevator start to slow and then come gradually to a stop. The door slid smoothly open, revealing a short brightly lit corridor that ended with another obviously large sealed metal door. In this corridor, all the lights were functioning. The corridor looked clean and polished as if it was new. No trace of the passage of the centuries was anywhere to be seen.

“There sure are a lot of sealed doors in this place,” Kalvin puffed, still feeling nervous from the ride they had just taken in the elevator.

The ancients sure had some innovative ways to get around. Kalvin wondered just how deep beneath the mountain they were. He had a feeling that he really didn’t want to know. It could be miles! He just hoped the elevator would take them back up when it was time for them to leave.

“I wonder why it brought us here?” spoke Lynol, her eyes looking down the small corridor. She suspected the reason was behind the sealed door.

Stepping out into the corridor the two approached the large metal door. Looking at the writing across the top of the door, Lynol slowly read it aloud.

“SUSPENDED ANIMATION STASIS FACILITY AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.”

“What is it?” asked Kalvin, looking at the heavy metal door. “What’s a stasis facility?”

“I don’t know,” Lynol replied, confused. She reached out with her sorcery to see if she could sense anything behind the sealed door. “This isn’t in the diary, nor did Malcon mention it.”

Not detecting anything except the now very intense energy field, she once again reached out with her mind. Grasping her brightly glowing amulet, Lynol wove another spell, casting it at the entrance’s complex locking mechanism which responded with several loud clicks and the door swung slowly open. Another large door on the other side also swung back the opposite direction, enticing them to enter. She was relieved that her sorcery had worked.

“So said the spider to the fly,” Kalvin muttered, his eyes wide.

“We might as well go in,” spoke Lynol, taking Kalvin’s hand. “We’ve come this far, let’s see what’s inside.”

As they stepped inside, Lynol and Kalvin noticed they were in a large, dimly lit rectangular room with a soft radiance coming from the ceiling. Along the walls, hundreds of large glass cases stood, stretching from one end of the vast room to the other. Vague, indiscernible shapes could be seen within each. Softly blinking lights above the cases beckoned them as they slowly approached the nearest one.

“What have we gotten ourselves into?” asked Kalvin, walking over to one of the cases, closely followed by Lynol, curious to see what it contained.

Lynol touched the case and then jerked her hand back, surprised at its icy coldness. Holding her glow bulb up close to the strange case, she peered in and recoiled in shock when she saw a young man’s face staring silently back. She took a deep breath and then slowly let it out. Fortifying herself, Lynol took another look. The young man was a superb specimen in excellent physical condition.

“There are people in these!” exclaimed Kalvin, staring unbelievably at the case. Taking his light to the next one, Kalvin held it up to the case. A young nude woman, in what looked like perfect health, rested inside.

“They’re asleep,” Lynol murmured with dawning realization. “They’re asleep like Gilmreth was, only these strange machines are responsible.” Lynol looked around the room and the numerous glass cases with their blinking lights above them. They were all full of people.

Feeling a strange sensation, she looked down to see that her amulet was pulsing, pulling her in another direction once more. In moments, Lynol was standing before another mysterious machine, which covered part of one wall with several large cushioned chairs in front of it.

Lying upon the machine was a small book, similar to the diary she already had of Ramael’s, the ancient sorcerer. The blue radiance from her amulet reached out and touched the book, which instantly took on a spectral radiance of its own. With growing curiosity, Lynol reached down and picked it up. The radiance died from it and from her amulet simultaneously. This book was what she had been led to! Why? Lynol felt bewildered. Hesitantly, she opened the book to the front page and read the inscription?

DIARY OF CATHY LYNOL MATHESON, then in smaller letters beneath the name in the same flowing handwriting, was the name Kathryn Sylvar.

“Mother?” Lynol murmured mystified, a sudden feeling of incredulity sweeping over her.

She stood frozen, holding the precious diary in her hands, stunned disbelief holding her motionless. She looked slowly around the immense room, her eyes coming to a stop on Kalvin, who now stood next to her.

“What is it?” asked Kalvin, wondering what Lynol had found. She looked unusually pale. He noticed she was holding a book in her hand; was this what she had been led to?

“I’m not sure,” replied Lynol, staring down at her mother’s name. “But my mother’s name is in this. It says this is the diary of someone named Cathy Lynol Matheson.”

“Your mother!” Kalvin exclaimed, surprised. “How can that be? Cathy Lynol Matheson? Her middle name is the same as yours.”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t make any sense, but this is what my amulet was leading me to, this diary,” replied Lynol, looking down at the diary she held in her hand.

“What does it say?” asked Kalvin, feeling confused. How could Lynol’s mother have ever been inside this complex?

Feeling slightly faint, Lynol sat down in one of the softly cushioned chairs in front of the mysterious machine. Still staring at the name in confusion, she couldn’t understand why her mother’s name was in this person’s diary. Opening the next page, almost afraid to see what she might find, six folded sheets of fine paper lay between the pages, and upon the top sheet was Lynol’s name. Feeling an icy shiver run up and down her spine, Lynol took the sheets of paper and carefully opened them. With utter amazement, she read the astonishing words.

-

Dearest daughter:

I realize this must come as a tremendous shock to you, finding a letter from your mother inside this amazing complex. I can only guess at what you must be feeling at this moment, at the thoughts that must be running through your mind. This complex must seem so strange and mysterious to you. I still find it shocking all the knowledge that has been lost over the long centuries since the war. There is so much you need to know, so much to tell you, I only wish that I could be there! I wish that I was there to hold you and to tell you how much I love you!

By the time you read this, you should have gained access to the underground crypt of the sorcerer Malcon Sylvar. Hard to believe that a sorcerer of his abilities could have been born so many years after the nuclear war; Worldfire as you know it. I was extremely saddened to learn from your father that Malcon’s daughter Lys was killed by Gilmreth.

Gilmreth is a rogue; the other dragons were not like him. He is extremely dangerous! I was very distressed to learn the final fate of our precious dragons. I wish I could have found out what happened to Snowden. He was to have been my dragon, and he was my friend! Snowden was a white dragon, very friendly and caring. The dragons, for the most part, were remarkably gentle and caring creatures, and they were highly intelligent.

-

Lynol couldn’t believe what she was reading. It sounded as if her mother had been alive during the Golden Age, but that was impossible! That was over three thousand years ago! She felt Kalvin’s comforting hand upon her shoulder. She also spoke of a dragon being her friend. How was that possible? Dragons were evil! She continued to read.

-

When this complex was first set up, the leaders here had such high hopes and dreams. They gathered the greatest minds of our age together and began to work on a truly magnificent project. They used genetic manipulation upon themselves and their children in an attempt to create a newer and better human race. A super race, a race that was supposed to be free of the greed and hatred associated with so much of humankind associated for such a long time with our history. It would be a race that would guide humankind into a better, more peaceful future. But somewhere along the way those aspirations were lost. Something went horribly wrong! Perhaps no one could wield the awesome power we were given. It was too tempting for those of weak minds to abuse their gifts.

I was born here inside this complex. We could do things that no one else believed possible. We could weave the energy patterns that exist in the subatomic level, influencing almost anything. For a lack of a better word we became, to the ordinary people here in the complex, sorcerers! It was a nickname attached to us and which stayed with us from that early time. The patterns we wove began to be called spells, jokingly at first. When we were very young, we realized there was so much we could offer the world! So many things we could do to help all of humankind. Unfortunately, we were too young to realize that too much power can corrupt even the strongest of minds. For awhile we were allowed to live outside the complex until our powers began to manifest. When that happened we were taken from the outside world and brought back into the complex for our training.

This diary explains much of what transpired here in this complex, and I ask you to read it carefully. I have read the prophecy at the sacrificial altar. This is a remarkable development in our powers. It seems that some later sorcerers developed foresight. The ability to foresee a possible future event was totally unexpected. That it refers to you, there can be no doubt. Sorcery has been partially restricted by the power that the sleeping spell Malcon placed on Gilmreth absorbs from the surrounding area. The energy is still there at the subatomic level; it’s just harder to influence.

Your abilities which came from me, since I was one of the originals, will be powerful enough to tap that energy as you become an adolescent. At first, you might just notice animals responding to you, the ability to sense things from a distance. All this is just the beginning of your wondrous journey into becoming a powerful sorceress.

You face two formidable enemies: the dragon Gilmreth, which can be controlled by no human, and another sorcerer. His name is Adam Grayson, the most powerful sorcerer of our group and the one responsible for the Worldfire. I’d hoped that I would be there to help you. I wanted to guide you through this, and for us to stand together against Adam. Together there is no doubt in my mind we could have defeated both Adam and Gilmreth, but now I am afraid you will have to face both alone.

I know that the prophecy foretells of another woman sorceress. With Adam loose in your world he must be considered the greater threat! If there is another woman sorceress, Adam may be behind her, almost certainly is behind her, controlling her. Be very, very careful my daughter! He is extremely dangerous and must not be underestimated. Look for someone close to this woman sorceress mentioned in the prophecy. I am sure you will find Adam controlling everything.

-

Adam Grayson, Lynol read, confused. She had heard of no other sorcerer other than Jalene. Just who was her mother talking about? She continued to read, feeling even more bewildered

-

Adam hid a stasis chamber somewhere under the mountain. We searched for it right after the Worldfire but could never locate it. My own was set up to awaken me when certain sensor devices planted around the complex registered his presence. I was the next strongest after Adam. The leaders here believed that as I grew older, my powers might rival even those of Adam!

When I awoke, I discovered that nearly three thousand long years had passed. A strong stasis field protects most of the deeper levels of the complex; others areas with a weaker field. Some of the weaker fields have failed completely, and some of the outlying areas of the complex are in ruin. Fortunately, the stronger stasis fields protect all the truly important sections. If it had failed several technicians and I would have been awakened immediately.

The reason I awoke was because the recording instruments detected Adam’s presence in some of the outer perimeters of the complex, but he left, vanishing from the sensors before I could do anything. The special areas of the complex are protected. They will not allow Adam entrance; we saw to that before we began our long sleep. There is no doubt in my mind that once Adam realized most of the complex was off limits to him  he decided to leave and see what was outside. Once I had recovered enough from my long sleep I had no choice but to attempt to find out where he had gone.

Imagine my surprise when other instruments showed that one of the dragons, Gilmreth, was in a spell-induced sleep in the old dragon lair! There was no sign of any of the other dragons. I played the recorders back and was able to watch the horrible conflict between Malcon Sylvar and Gilmreth. Malcon’s abilities were truly astounding. I can’t believe that he was actually able to conquer Gilmreth. Malcon and his daughter must have been two truly extraordinary people!

The other stasis boxes are still functioning properly and if left alone, they will open in another two hundred years. They contain two hundred and twelve young sorcerers and sorceresses, all which remain of our group that believed in creating a beautiful, peaceful world, free of the harshness and mistakes of the old. Someday when they awake, they will create the type of world we can only dream of. A new Golden Age, which will rival anything our time had to offer. All of our science and all of the knowledge of the human race are safely preserved in the computers, in this complex. The stasis field protecting the computers is still functioning and will continue to do so.

When I finally left the mountain, I searched diligently for Adam but couldn’t locate him anywhere! In one of my searches, I traveled to Galvin and met your father, Damon Sylvar. I was only twenty years old at the time. Did you know that I knew your great-grandfather many times removed? Jason Sylvar was one of the leaders here opposed to Adam and his plans for world domination. Jason was also the first sorcerer! His development was a natural mutation and what the geneticists patterned the rest of us after. It was Jason and Adam’s power struggle that set off the Worldfire!

I was just about to return to the mountain and go back into suspended animation when I met your father. We fell instantly in love! I decided to live out my life in your world. I could watch for Adam, and if he didn’t show up, I could return to the mountain and arrange for another sorcerer to be awoken if he ever did. I could also train my descendants to be on guard to ensure that the complex and the sleepers inside were kept safe.

For several years, your father and I lived happily, and then you were born. I knew that, as my daughter, you would inherit my powers, and this excited me immensely. Your father and I were so thrilled when you were born. I couldn’t wait to be able to teach you how to use your abilities, to have someone to confide in. I had access to parts of the mountain complex that could be used to teach you much of the science of the Golden Age. I could give you an education the likes of which your world hasn’t seen in many long centuries. Together, we could begin to reintroduce basic science back into the world, to prepare the people for when my friends awake.

I always thought that Adam would return to the mountain, so I kept a constant vigil but it never happened. I set certain instruments that would alert me instantly if he made an appearance. He has disappeared again, possibly even returned to stasis, but a lingering doubt makes me believe that he is out there somewhere, biding his time. If he can gain control of this world and mold it to his desire, then when the surviving sleepers awake they may be powerless to correct what Adam may leave as his heritage.

If domination of your world is what he wants, he will need help. Adam will try to awaken Gilmreth. He always had a strange desire to control the rogue dragon. I don’t know how many times I found Adam standing outside the dragon’s pen, just staring at Gilmreth. The prophecy at the altar site seems to confirm this. But be wary; I don’t believe that even Adam, with his abilities, can control Gilmreth!

Several days ago a raging, deadly disease struck Galvin. It’s a fever which runs its course rapidly, probably a mutation from the nuclear war. It literally consumes its victim and death comes very rapidly. My sorcery used secretly, hasn’t been able to treat the disease. I have kept my abilities a secret even from your father so as not to worry him. He is a wonderful man! He also considers his responsibilities as a Sylvar to be tremendously important. I can sit for hours and listen to his stories.

I have debated long and hard about waking the other sorceresses and sorcerers, but that wasn’t the original plan. Why Jason chose to allow 3,200 years to pass I can't fathom, but knowing Jason he had a very compelling reason and I can’t violate that. I am on my own. Also, the way the equipment is set up it wouldn’t be easy to awaken another of my friends, at least not quickly. It could be done, but it would take me some time to reprogram the computer. The equipment was set up to awaken only me early. The rest will have to wait until the 3,200 years have passed; at that point the computer will awaken everyone.

Yesterday I came down with the fever. My powers have slowed its advance considerably, but it continues. I am leaving you this message in case the fever overcomes me. I am also asking your father to make sure you receive my amulet some day; it’s a very special one created by Loraine. I also implanted suggestions in your subconscious that will make you seek out Malcon’s underground crypt when you are old enough. The crypt will detect your powers and reveal itself. I've also used my powers to reprogram the simulacrum to ensure that someday you would make the journey to this complex.

The simulacrum located in the crypt will serve as an excellent teacher. In addition, there is a great deal of information in this diary, including many insights about how to use your powers. If you can’t defeat Adam and Gilmreth, someone must throw the three red switches above this diary! I hope that you will not have to face either. Perhaps Adam has indeed gone back to sleep.

-

Lynol looked up and saw three switches covered by little protective glass bubbles. From the writing above them, she could tell they had something to do with the sleep chambers. Returning her eyes to the diary, she continued reading.

-

These switches will activate the surviving parts of this complex and awaken the sleepers. It’s an emergency bypass that goes around the computers. After the switches have been activated it will take only a few hours for the sleepers to awaken, but be aware that once they are awake the complex will not have enough power to reactivate the stasis boxes and all the stasis fields. They will be awake permanently. All of them! It takes a tremendous amount of energy to start the suspended animation process and activate the stasis fields. It could only be done once!

With their combined powers, Adam and Gilmreth may be defeated. However, beware! Adam’s powers are formidable, and if you can’t defeat him with my amulet, the sleepers may not be able to either! Our dream of a new Golden Age could be lost. Adam is not aware of this stasis facility! Their greatest protection is that no one knows they exist! Once awoken that protection will be gone. I know you may feel tempted to wake the other sleepers, but they must be protected at all costs.

Take care, my daughter, and remember: through my amulet I will always be with you. I love you!!!!!!

Your Mother: Kathryn Lynol Sylvar

-

Lynol laid the letter down. Without meaning to, she grasped her mother’s amulet and started to cry, wet tears running unchecked from her light blue eyes. Her mother had died of the fever, taking her remarkable secret with her. She had never gotten the chance to tell her father. Lynol had always thought she had inherited her powers from her father’s side of the family. How she wished she could have known her mother. There was so much they could have talked about, done together.

Picking up the diary, she skimmed quickly over page after page of her mother’s writing. Nearly four hundred pages of her mother’s life were held in its precious pages. Perhaps through her diary she would come to know her mother much better and what her dreams had been.

Kalvin cleared his throat. “What is it?” he asked, concerned, seeing the tears in Lynol’s eyes. Her unexpected behavior was beyond his comprehension. “What was in that letter?”

“I’ll explain later,” replied Lynol, standing and looking solemnly around the dimly lit room. For the first time she noticed a single glass case standing empty next to the entrance, its occupant missing. This must have been her mother’s. “We need to be going; I have what I came for.”

Looking around, she let her eyes roam over the cases of the sleeping sorcerers. These were her people, her mother’s friends, and perhaps even distant family members. She felt dizzy and had trouble getting her breath. She was looking at a sight she had never expected to see. Here were other people like herself! Someday she would have to return to this mountain, there was so much here for her to learn. Her mother had also given her an awesome responsibility to protect those that slept in this secret place.

“What is this place, Lynol?” Kalvin asked, perplexed. He gazed around the room at the hundreds of cases and the people they contained. “Are these the people who created this complex? Why are they asleep in glass cases?”

“They are sorcerers and sorceresses,” Lynol replied, softly gazing into Kalvin’s eyes. “These are survivors from the Worldfire who were put into a deep sleep so the science and technology of the Golden Age would survive.”

“Then some of these people may have helped create the dragons!” Kalvin exclaimed excitedly, looking at all the cases with awe. “If we could awaken them, they might be able to stop Gilmreth!” Kalvin suddenly felt hope. This was what they had been searching for! Lynol might not have to face Gilmreth after all!

“No, Kalvin,” replied Lynol, taking his hand and shaking her head. “They are not to be awoken for another two hundred years. Holding her mother’s diary to her chest, she continued. “This diary tells me what must be done. This complex and these sleepers must be protected at all costs. You can never talk about what we have found today, Kalvin; not ever!” She took the diary and placed it securely and safely in her backpack.

Kalvin looked at Lynol in surprise and dismay. This was the answer to all of their problems, but from the look in her eyes he knew she must have her reasons. He didn’t like or agree with what she was saying, but he knew he had to trust her judgment. His mind was full of a thousand questions. They would have a lot to talk about on the way back home. This underground complex hid more mysteries and power than Kalvin had dreamed possible. Looking one last time at the cases, he wondered what wondrous things these people could teach those of his world. Turning, he followed Lynol as she stepped back through the twin doors that protected this incredible room.

“What do we do now?” Kalvin asked. They were leaving behind their best solution to defeating Gilmreth and the sorceress across the mountain.

“I need to show this diary to Malcon,” replied Lynol, pausing as she used her sorcery to shut the two massive metal doors. “The information it contains may allow me to defeat Gilmreth.”

“What about the other sorceress?” Kalvin asked with a trace of doubt creeping into his voice. He wondered if the information in that mysterious diary was really as important as Lynol thought.

“Perhaps her also,” replied Lynol, reaching out and taking Kalvin’s hand. “You have to trust me in this, Kalvin. Once I finish reading this diary perhaps I can explain everything better.”

When they entered the small elevator, Kalvin was thankful when it started taking them back up. He felt a massive sense of relief when it opened, and they were back where they had started earlier.

On their way out, Lynol stopped by the power room, turning off the generator. She knew that somewhere beneath the mountain must be one very large power source to run the stasis cases and fields. Soon they were back where the tunnels branched, the larger tunnel leading down to Gilmreth.

“Is there no way we could seal up this tunnel?” asked Kalvin, looking down into the slowly descending depths that faded away into darkness and wondering if they could trap Gilmreth inside.

“The material the ancients used is very strong,” Lynol replied, still feeling powerful emotions from reading her mother’s letter. “If it held up against the Worldfire, I doubt if we have anything strong enough to bring it down. Anything powerful enough to destroy this tunnel might also cause severe damage to the remaining parts of the complex. And I doubt if sealing the tunnel would hold Gilmreth for long anyway; he’s just too powerful!”

“If we can’t seal him in, then you will have to face him someday,” Kalvin spoke, his eyes peering into the dark depths of the tunnel leading toward Gilmreth.

“It won’t be for awhile yet,” replied Lynol, thinking about her mother’s diary and hoping it contained the secret to defeating Gilmreth. “I still have a lot to learn. We need to go, Kalvin. It will be getting dark soon, and we don’t want to be in this tunnel if Gilmreth wakes up.”

Turning, Lynol strode back toward the entrance with Kalvin hurrying to catch up, their globes lighting the tunnel before them. Lynol had found what she’d been searching for, even though what she had found was beyond her wildest expectations. She was quiet on the way out, lost in thought, her emotions barely held in check thinking about her mother, the amazing letter, and the precious diary she carried in her backpack. She couldn’t wait to get back home and begin reading.

They emerged from the entrance into late afternoon shadow. If the three switches were ever thrown, Lynol knew it wouldn’t be by her. If she failed in her attempt to stop Gilmreth and this mysterious other sorcerer, then someone else would have to wake the sleepers in the complex.

Looking at Kalvin, Lynol knew who that person would have to be. She realized even more that her feelings toward Kalvin were growing, and a truly special bond was beginning to form between the two of them. When Lynol had closed the doors behind them as they left the complex, she had set it up so they would open automatically for anyone that possessed her amulet. If Kalvin had her amulet he would be able to awaken the sleepers if need be.

The late afternoon sun was already on the far side of Firestorm Mountain, causing the mountain to cast a long shadow. It would be nearly dark before they got off the mountain and could reach their campsite from the previous night. It would be tomorrow afternoon before they arrived back home.

“We need to be going,” said Kalvin, looking worriedly down the dark tunnel behind them. “We need to be off the mountain in case Gilmreth awakes!”

“I know, Kalvin,” Lynol said softly. She wondered just how many distant relatives were asleep in the mountain. Lynol felt a deep sadness knowing she would never get to know any of them. Two hundred years was a long time!

Kalvin drew back and gazed down into Lynol’s light blue eyes. “Lynol, I don’t know what you found in that room. If there is anything I can do, just tell me.” She had spoken very little for the last few minutes.

Lynol felt a strange weakness assail her. “Just hold me for a moment,” she whispered, stepping forward and putting her arms around Kalvin, suddenly feeling vulnerable and realizing the enormity of what she had discovered.

“That diary is my mother’s. She came from the mountain; she was one of the ancient sorcerers who helped create the dragons. I don’t fully understand how all this is possible. I need time to read the diary and think about all of this. The secret to defeating Gilmreth may be in her diary.”

“Your mother’s diary? Then your mother is where your powers came from.” Kalvin held Lynol tightly in a long embrace, feeling her shiver in his arms. “There’s a lot of this I don’t understand.”

“I don’t either,” replied Lynol, looking up into Kalvin’s eyes. “I need to read the entire diary, maybe then I will understand all of this. Right now it’s almost too much to comprehend.”

“Lynol,” said Kalvin softly, taking her face in his hands. Then, without thinking, gently kissed her.

He stepped back; Lynol was staring at him, her mouth open in surprise. Kalvin felt embarrassed, afraid he had angered her. What was wrong with him? Lynol had too much to worry about without him adding anything else, no matter how he felt, especially after what she had just discovered in the complex.

“I’m sorry,” Kalvin stuttered, his face red, feeling he had done something wrong. “I couldn’t help it.”

“I accept that as a compliment,” said Lynol, smiling. There was so much between them that had remained unsaid, and it would have to stay that way until Gilmreth and the other sorceress were dealt with.

Taking Kalvin’s hand in her own, she squeezed it gently. “Let’s go home.”

Her mother’s letter had made her realize just how important Kalvin really was to her. How important it was to have someone special in your life. Keeping her thoughts to herself, they walked holding hands down Firestorm Mountain as the sun slowly sank behind them.

Chapter Twelve

Jalene stood atop her temple dressed in a flowing black skirt and a white silk blouse trimmed in brilliant red. There were two long lines of red robed priests standing silently and obediently behind her, waiting for her commands. Storn Daes stood confidently a step behind, with Baelen Dal fidgeting nervously beside him. Around Jalene, in the flickering yellow glow of the torches, the recently completed center of the city rose majestically around her.

On each side of the temple’s immense square, large stone white buildings, resplendent in their magnificence, rose nearly as high as the temple itself. They dwarfed the small shops and stores that had been torn down to make room for these newer, more massive structures. Arching white bridges of stone stretched from one building to another far above the ground, interconnecting the buildings. High rising latticed observation towers rose from the roofs of the buildings to a height slightly above that of the great temple itself, providing a grand view of the temple platform.

It was a masterpiece of architecture. Nothing like it had existed for untold eons, not since the Golden Age itself. The master architects whot had designed her city had been pushed to the limits by Jalene’s sorcery. This amazing city now standing around the temple was the result. Only Jalene and Daes knew that hundreds of people had died to make her masterpiece a reality. Untold multitudes more had died in the countryside when Gilmreth had been sent to enforce her commands to come serve in her city.

“Impressive, Milady,” Storn commented impassively, his dark black hair visible beneath the hood of his red robe. His deep blue eyes seemed to glint and almost dance in the reflected torchlight. “The center of your city is complete. Already the population of Draydon has swelled to nearly one hundred thousand souls.”

“More people are arriving daily,” added Baelen anxiously, wanting to please Jalene. “They come from the distant countryside to live in your wondrous city and worship you and the great dragon. More young applicants are coming forth weekly, submitting themselves as candidates for the dragon sacrifice. Very soon all the people that still live on this side of the mountains will either live in your city or around it in the new farming communities we have established.”

“Excellent,” Jalene said with approval in her sharp voice, pushing her long black hair back behind her shoulders. “Just the threat of Gilmreth being sent to their villages now brings them in. They are like frightened sheep, afraid of the dragon and the power he represents. See how they flock to our city, how they come to our great temple to worship!”

“They come to worship the dragon and you,” Daes spoke in a cold, calm voice, watching the still growing crowd.

“They fear the dragon,” Baelen stuttered nervously. The sacrifices always made him nervous.

“As they should!” voiced Jalene, turning to look sharply at Baelen. “The dragon is the enforcer of my will. I hope the dragon will be satisfied with the sacrifices you have chosen for tonight, Baelen!”

“Gilmreth will be, Milady,” Baelen replied in a submissive voice, lowering his eyes. “The dragon will find tonight’s candidates quite suitable.”

“You’d better hope so!” Jalene breathed with a hint of warning in her voice.

Turning back around, Jalene looked down at the people assembling in the great square below. They were spineless and cowardly for the most part. That mattered little to her. She would surround herself with only those she found worthy; the rest would have their uses. Her power was complete. The people would obey her and finish the entire city just as she and her architects had designed it, as she had envisioned it.

Down below in the vast square thousands of people milled around, waiting expectantly for the ritual sacrifice that was soon to take place. Already, the city was shrouded in ebony darkness except for the eerie yellow glow put forth by the flickering torches upon the great temple and other nearby towering buildings. Over the months since Gilmreth had been awoken, Jalene, Storn, and Baelen had designed a ritual that was followed rigidly for all sacrifices to the dragon.

At the base of the temple hundreds of temple guards, dressed smartly in black with a red dragon insignia on their breasts stood guard, separating the milling crowd from the temple. In another area close to the temple, young boys tended the fires and the cooking. The savory smell of roasted meat and baked breads permeated the air. Hundreds more dedicated temple guards surrounded this area. They were responsible for keeping the hungry populace away from the grandiose feast until after the sacrifice.

Halfway up the temple upon a small balcony two red robed priests stood, slowly beating large base drums, calling the people of Draydon to the temple. The drums’ slow and steady rhythmic beat echoed through the city.

“The people now come to the temple as soon as they are called,” Storm stated with a brief satisfied smirk splitting his normally expressionless face. “More applicants flock daily to the temple to serve as priests and guards. I have set up a rigorous testing system to ensure that only those we find acceptable pass.”

“Excellent, Storn,” replied Jalene, looking up expectantly into the night, her breathing quickening as she sensed Gilmreth's rapid approach. She felt more alive, more intense whenever the dragon was near. It was as if they were connected, and perhaps they were through the Stone of Loraine. “I only want the best applicants to fill the ranks of the priests and guards.”

Only men and women who were totally dedicated to Jalene, with a willingness to obey her unquestionably, and yes, even give up their lives for her, were allowed into the two prestigious orders. “Command your priests to take up their positions, the dragon approaches!” she ordered with a hint of excitement creeping into her voice.

Nodding, Storn turned and barked quick orders to the two long ranks of priests standing behind them. Instantly, the ranks broke as the priests went quickly to form a lengthy, unbroken line along the edge of the temple platform. The priests looked out over the assembled crowd.

The priests had long since learned that any command from Daes was to be obeyed immediately and without question. Those who hesitated or questioned his decisions often found themselves part of the next sacrifice, or mysteriously vanished never to be heard from again. He was utterly ruthless when disobeyed!

Many of the priests feared Daes even more than Jalene. Jalene was around the temple only occasionally. Daes was there every single day! On numerous occasions, they had been forced to watch as weaker priests were subjugated to grueling ordeals and even torture if Daes was displeased with their progress.

On two different occasions, the guards had tortured priests who failed to complete their assigned tasks until they died. Daes had watched impassively, the expression on his cold, hard face never wavering. The priests knew that to displease Daes sufficiently could cause them to become one with the dragon. To face Daes or Jalene was one thing, but the dragon was something else entirely!

Gilmreth would feed upon anyone that Jalene commanded was to die, particularly if Daes reported a weakness in a priest or temple guard that he hadn’t been able to correct using his own highly effective measures. It ensured the two orders stayed properly obedient.

With a sudden whoosh, Gilmreth appeared in the flickering yellow light above the temple. The crowd swooned in fear and excitement as the dragon circled, his mighty wings stirring the night air above the temple. They gazed up at the dragon, their pulse quickening. A nervous fear held the crowd in its sway as they watched the deadly creature above them.

A sudden monstrous roar sounded, and dragon fire burst forth to rage upward into the night sky, its red glow slowly vanishing as Gilmreth alighted atop the temple. An abrupt, fearsome quiet held the crowd as they stared with fear and rapt fascination at the waiting dragon. The creature was both breathtaking and fearsome to behold. Its cold eyes stared down at the crowd, finally coming to rest on Jalene.

Jalene looked triumphantly at Gilmreth standing on the temple platform, waiting for his feeding. He was the symbol of her power, of her ability to extract vengeance upon anyone that resisted her. Jalene felt near omnipotent in the presence of the dragon.

Raising the scepter which held the Stone of Loraine up high, she concentrated briefly, causing a pulsing, ominous red glow to emit from the temple walls. The large stone dragons on the edge of the temple platform seemed to take on a spectral life of their own, their eyes glowing with a fearsome ethereal red light.

The crowd stepped back, caught up in the fear and the excitement of the moment at what was occurring on top of the temple. The great drums continued their eerie cadence, almost like a giant heart beating slowly and methodically.

As the red glow built up, Storn nodded commandingly to Baelen. Baelen turned and marched to the stairs, which led down into the heart of the temple. Looking down the stairs, he motioned to the men waiting below.

Two priests and four guards appeared bringing two shackled men. Baelen talked briefly with the guards, giving them their final instructions. There could be no mistakes with the sacrifice. Baelen, finished with his last minute instructions, looked nervously toward the dragon.

The guards, using long and wicked looking knives, prodded the two men until they stood at the edge of the temple platform above the crowd. A sudden excited roar of anticipation erupted from the waiting multitude upon seeing the two men, knowing what lay ahead.

The men were dressed in yellow robes signifying they were criminals in the eyes of the temple for defying Jalene’s rule. The two men were shackled quickly to the temple platform by short chains and left to stand alone and trembling before Gilmreth. The men looked up in horror at the waiting dragon, knowing their lives were just about over. They had only scant moments left to live. The dragon looked expectantly toward Jalene, waiting.

Jalene stepped up to the edge of the temple platform, looking out over the crowd, which quieted upon seeing the strange, enigmatic woman who controlled their lives.

“These two men are guilty of stealing food from the temple!” her voice rang out coldly. “The penalty for stealing from the temple is death! Behold the wrath of the dragon! Behold Gilmreth!”

Turning, Jalene sent a quick mental command to Gilmreth, her eyes glazed over with anticipation. She always enjoyed sacrificing men, perhaps because they were the source of her painful childhood memories. She closed her eyes, linking her mind with Gilmreth’s. It was as if she were the dragon. She could feel his hunger and burning desire to feed upon the helpless victims below. Her heart raced, and her breath came in quick, thready gasps as she gazed down at the two shackled terrified men through Gilmreth’s eyes.

Gilmreth held the two men frozen with his eyes, like birds helpless in the gaze of a deadly viper. Folding his wings about his two victims, Gilmreth’s head darted down. A hollow dreadful scream echoed atop the temple, followed shortly by a second. A deathly stillness held the crowd for a long moment, the dragon’s head hidden beneath his wings as he fed upon his helpless sacrifices.

Finally, raising his head, the dragon stared at Jalene with his yellow, fiery red eyes glowing demandingly. This was but a beginning. The dragon wanted more, much more. The burning hunger still gnawed at the dragon’s heart. He looked about the platform for more victims, ones that would satisfy and quell his burning need. This aching, burning hunger was with him almost constantly.

A loud, excited roar erupted from the crowd as the dragon’s head appeared, confirming the two men had been sacrificed. Jalene could hear the excited crowd, which had turned into a hysterical, blood crazed mob.

She released her mind link with the dragon, feeling her body sway from the after effects of the intimate link. The link with Gilmreth was so consuming, so satisfying in the perverted pleasure it gave Jalene.

Nodding at Baelen, the next sacrifice was brought forth: a beautiful young woman dressed in a flowing white silk robe. A look of joyful eagerness and anticipation covered her youthful face. The woman walked willingly between the two priests. Jalene had used the Stone of Loraine on the woman earlier, along with Baelen’s new drug. It was relatively easy to control her mind and plant the suggestion that caused her to desire almost lustfully to become Gilmreth’s sacrifice.

Jalene had learned that when the sacrifice went willingly, almost reverently, to the dragon, the crowd became caught up in the rapture of the moment, working themselves up into a heated frenzy, caught up in the blood lust. Already, people wondered why so many young women, over the past few months had so willingly sacrificed themselves. It surrounded the ritual with even more mystique.

Little did they know that Jalene had used the Stone of Loraine to encourage suitable candidates to step forward, to volunteer for the sacrifice. Even her priests were unaware of this aspect of her power. Only Storn and Baelen knew what was actually being done to the young women to make them act as they did.

The two priests stopped and the woman continued forward without any evidence of hesitation. She walked over to the edge of the temple platform, stepping through the row of priests, smiling out over the crowd as she gazed down.

An excited quiet fell upon the watching throngs as they saw the resplendent young woman, dressed in white, standing unafraid above them. Turning, she walked without hesitation toward the waiting dragon. Coming to a stop beneath Gilmreth, she went down to her knees, bowing deeply to the dragon above her. Then, slowly, she raised her arms up in supplication, waiting to become one with the great dragon, desire burning in her heart to join her pure, unblemished soul with the dragon’s tainted dark one.

Her heart pounding with excitement, Jalene turned to watch the sacrifice. She could hear the growing excitement from the crowd as their frenzy grew. She could feel the desire, the ravenous hunger radiating from Gilmreth. For a brief moment, it was almost as if she were the dragon. Jalene held her breath, savoring the moment. Even without the mind link she could feel Gilmreth’s desire, his burning hunger.

Jalene didn’t dare risk linking with Gilmreth on this sacrifice. The sensations would be overpowering, rendering her incoherent. It was all she could do to resist the temptation to form the mind link, to savor the feeding Gilmreth was about to partake of. Jalene swayed on her feet, her eyes almost closed as she waited.

Gilmreth watched the young woman below, sensing the pureness of power that emitted from her. Slowly, the dragon folded his great wings around his willing victim, his head lowered unhurriedly, and moments later an unearthly red glow built up around the dragon as he fed. The energy from his victim flowed into Gilmreth, strengthening and satiating the dragon.

“Behold Gilmreth, behold the great dragon!” Jalene spoke forcefully, her heart pulsing with excitement and blood lust. Even without the mind link, she could feel herself reacting physically to Gilmreth’s feeding.

The crowd echoed her words back to her, the chant becoming louder and louder as the dragon fed. “Gilmreth! Gilmreth! Gilmreth!”

At last, the dragon raised his head, satiated for the moment. With a fierce burst of dragon fire, Gilmreth launched himself into the night air with powerful beats of his wings. In moments, the dragon had vanished from sight.

“Let the feasting begin!” Jalene commanded to the captivated crowd below, feeling lightheaded and weak from the after effects of the sacrifices.

She swayed slightly on her feet, the results of Gilmreth’s feeding still rolling tantalizingly through her mind. She felt as if she held the entire world in the palm of her hand.

Storn, who was still standing silently behind Jalene, signaled a priest watching from the base of the temple, who in turn nodded to someone inside the temple entrance. Out of the temple, hundreds of servers began carrying large trays laden with rich food to the numerous tables that surrounded the temple. The young boys who had been turning the meat above the fires were using large sharp knives to carve generous portions of savory meat and piling them onto waiting platters. The crowd surged hungrily forward to partake of the almost heavenly feast.

Upon the temple, Jalene watched with visible contempt as the crowd pushed and shoved, trying to get to the food. It was all the numerous temple guards could do to maintain control.

“Look at them,” Storn commented emotionlessly, his cold, expressionless gaze sweeping the crowd. “They are so easily led. They are ours to do with as we wish.”

“No, Storn,” corrected Jalene, fixing him with an icy stare. “They are mine to do with as I please! Remember, it is Gilmreth and I who control Draydon! You still have a lot more of my city to build. Make sure the overseers get the new time tables.”

“Yes, Milady,” Storn replied with a slight bow of his head. “It will be done.”

Jalene turned and marched toward the stairs, which led down into the heart of the temple. She needed desperately to rest from her use of sorcery and her mind link with the dragon.

Behind her Storn watched Jalene leave, his face expressionless, and his eyes reflecting some inner dark, malicious thought that fought to stay hidden. Looking down at the milling crowd, he watched them contemptuously as they fought over the food. There was enough for everyone, but the crowd still pushed and fought each other for it. Gesturing to Baelen Storn released the other priests, sending them back into the temple. He still had much to do before retiring for the night.

-

Early the next morning, Jalene entered the huge temple doorway at the base of the massive structure. Four well-armed guards stood at the entrance, standing straight and tall, their eyes not wavering as Jalene passed. Entering, she walked down a well-lit hall to a flight of wide stairs which led upwards into the heart of the temple. She climbed six flights of stairs, passing an occasional priest and the guards stationed at each level. At last she arrived at the true heart of the temple.

Stepping out into a long, wide hallway Jalene paused, watching one of the artists they had brought in. He was painting a large mural. It portrayed Gilmreth, in all of his savage glory, sweeping down out of the ebony black night sky, his yellowish red eyes blazing, wings spread wide, talons ready to strike, and breathing deadly dragon fire.

Walking farther down the hallway, Jalene stopped and stared at a completed mural, which showed the great temple at night lit by hundreds of fiery torches. Black uniformed guards surrounded the temple with the red robed temple priests lining the upper platform. Two of the stone dragons were portrayed with glowing eyes of sinister fiery red. A whisper of sound suddenly alerted her to the presence of someone else. She whirled, angry at the sound of quiet footsteps behind her.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” Storn’s cold voice said, his eyes focused on Jalene. “It shows the dragon in all of his fearsome glory.”

Jalene eyed her Head Priest who stood there, his face expressionless, the cowl of his robe pulled back. Those unwavering blue eyes gave her chills, and the cold cast of the man’s face didn’t inspire much confidence either. This man was becoming dangerous, she realized. The power he held in the temple was second only to hers. His ability to command the priests and the guards was almost uncanny. Unlimited power had a way of doing that to people. Jalene had hoped her High Priest would be immune and not dare to challenge her authority.

She knew that Storn would have to be watched more carefully in the future. The power she had given this man in her temple hierarchy was both necessary and useful. His comment last night indicated he might be developing aspirations that could someday become contrary to her own plans. If necessary, a demonstration of her power should put Storn back in his place.

“Yes, it does,” Jalene replied, not giving the painting a further glance. “But I expect only the best in my temple.”

Storn nodded, looking down the long hallway at the other mural that was nearing completion. “The entire hallway will be filled with murals within two more months. It will be quite an impressive tribute to your power.”

Gesturing Storn to follow Jalene continued down the hallway, entering a large room. In the center stood a miniature city that had been painstakingly built by skilled craftsmen. It had already gone through dozens of alterations to arrive at its present state. Jalene walked over to the city, staring intently at its small buildings, squares, and parks willing them to take on a life of their own. This was her future Draydon. The city she saw in her dreams.

In the center stood the great temple with the huge square before it, surrounded by four massive buildings with majestic latticed observation towers. Beyond them was a wide green park area, completely encircling the buildings and the towers. This would be the heart of Jalene’s city. After the park area were several rows of smaller buildings made of sparkling white stone. These would be the shops and businesses of the new, improved Draydon. Beyond these businesses lay thousands of small homes for the common people. Jalene had designed several different ones; those for the commoners, the middle class, and finally the upper class.

The entire city wasn’t portrayed since it would have taken up too much room. Her final plans called for a city with a population of nearly two hundred thousand. That would involve bringing in practically all the known surviving people from the far outlying districts.

She would allow some of the smaller villages around Draydon to stay autonomous. They would be needed to grow the food her great city would require. Already these villages had been expanded and quotas put in place for the amount of food that each one must produce. Missing a village’s quota wasn’t permissible; it meant that someone from the village would be chosen to serve as a sacrifice to the dragon. It helped to ensure that the quotas were never missed!

“How long before the city is completed?” demanded Jalene, turning to face Storn, her eyes meeting his. She couldn’t help but feel impatient at the pace of construction. Much had been accomplished, but much still remained to be done.

“Another year and all the shops and business buildings will be completed, as well as some of the homes for the upper class,” Storn replied carefully, staring unafraid into Jalene’s cold, unwavering eyes. “After that, another year to complete all the homes for the upper class, two years for the middle class, and about five years for the lower class.”

“So long,” growled Jalene, dissatisfied, her face red with anger at the time still required to construct her city. “Can it be sped up?”

“No, Milady,” replied Storn, shaking his head. “Stone can only be quarried so fast, and the workers can only accomplish so much on a given day. To accomplish what you wish will take the time I have just specified.”

“At least the main part of my city will be completed soon,” Jalene muttered with a tinge of disappointment in her voice.

“I still wish you would move into the temple,” Storn suggested in his deep, unyielding voice. “It would be much safer if you were here so the temple priests and the guards could keep better watch over you. The populace still can’t truly be trusted. It’s not safe for you to live away from the temple.”

Jalene’s anger flared at him like a hot flame at the suggestion. “No, Storn; we have discussed this before. I will stay where I am!”

How dare he even suggest such a thing! She needed the privacy and quiet that her rooms provided. In addition, they were quite luxurious and far better than anything in the temple. Besides, regardless of how unpopular she might be with some of the people, no one would dare to raise a threatening hand against her. The consequences of such an act would be too terrible to comprehend.

“But the Stone of Loraine would be much safer here,” Storn continued, his hands clenched tightly, staring intently at Jalene. “The guards could protect it!”

Her piercing gaze returned swiftly to the priest. “What do you know about the Stone of Loraine?” she hissed, suspicion entering her voice, staring harshly at Storn, her eyes taking on a deadly glint. “I’ve never called it by that name!” How could he possibly know about the stone? She had told no one what the scepter was!

“I’ve heard legends and read a few books; your scepter matches the legendary stone of the ancients,” Storn replied carefully, realizing he had made a strategic mistake by mentioning the Stone of Loraine by name. He watched Jalene carefully, unsure of what her reaction would be. She was so unpredictable.

“It would be best if you kept your mouth shut!” Jalene warned, glancing one final time at her city and then staring icily at Storn. “Have the overseers speed up the work. I want your timeline pushed up; pushed up a lot! I would hate to have to replace my Head Priest!”

Turning, Jalene strode angrily from the room. She was rapidly growing tired of excuses. After all, she was the sorceress Jalene, ruler of Draydon, and Keeper of the Great Dragon! Her will would be done, or the consequences would be dire indeed!

Behind her, Storn’s face slipped out of its carefully controlled mask, a look of scorn and amusement flickering briefly over his strong features. “I doubt it, my young sorceress,” he murmured ominously. “I may not be quite as easy to replace as you think.”

Turning back to the miniature replica of Draydon, Storn stood looking at it with arms folded enigmatically across his chest. The work could be speeded up considerably, but he would have to be careful, very careful. Jalene must not become aware of how the work was being sped up.

There were some things that Jalene didn’t need to know about just yet. That would come later. Storn had his own personal reasons for wanting the city completed. For now, Jalene’s ambitions ran parallel with his own, and as long as they did the young sorceress could be tolerated. After studying the miniature city for a few more minutes, Storn turned and left the room.

-

Jalene returned to her home, going straight to the large room that contained her spell book and the Stone of Loraine. Looking briefly about the lavishly furnished room, she picked up the ancient spell book, sat down in a richly padded chair, and opened it.

For a long time, she studied several spells carefully. For weeks now she had been wondering if she actually controlled Gilmreth. Often the dragon seemed hesitant about obeying her commands, almost as if weighing the alternatives in his evil, depraved mind. It was essential to her future plans that the dragon stay under her control. Not finding what she was seeking, she went to a shelf and pulled down the dragon scroll, which she had gleaned from Draydon’s archives when she’d first arrived in town.

Returning to her chair, she opened the old scroll and slowly unrolled it, carefully reading the ancient language. It spoke of the dragons being created by the great sorcerers of the Golden Age as a demonstration of their power. Each sorcerer was to have a dragon of his or her own to command once they achieved their full power and abilities. The scroll spoke of several dragons that Jalene had never heard of, and then it mentioned Gilmreth.

According to the scroll, Gilmreth was one of the last dragons to be created before the Worldfire destroyed the Golden Age. He was also the largest and the most fearsome of the dragons. Even the most powerful sorcerers reportedly had trouble controlling Gilmreth. The scroll went on to say that the leaders of that time questioned whether anyone could actually control him. It was feared that the dragon was much more intelligent than they had originally believed. A decision was reached that the dragon would have to be destroyed before it became too dangerous, but the Worldfire came before that action could be carried out, and Gilmreth and the other dragons escaped.

For years, the scroll went on, the escaped dragons preyed upon the survivors of the Worldfire, inflicting carnage and destruction wherever they found survivors trying to rebuild in the blasted, blackened, and poisoned land. As the number of people continued to dwindle, the dragons took to fighting amongst themselves. Gilmreth, over several centuries, hunted down and killed all of the older, smaller dragons until only he remained.

Finally, nearly starved, he returned to Firestorm Mountain, an area the dragons had shunned since their escape, only to find an abundance of human survivors living in primitive villages. For over one hundred years, he fed upon and ravished the humans living in the shadow of the mountain, until finally Malcon Sylvar invoked the powerful sleeping spell that put Gilmreth into a deep nearly dreamless slumber. Jalene looked at the bottom of the scroll and the signature that lay tellingly upon the old-yellowed paper. TIROL SYLVAR.

“I wonder if any Sylvars still survive across the mountain. Someday I will have to send my temple guards to find out. What a celebration it would be, to allow Gilmreth to feast on the descendants of his greatest enemy,” Jalene murmured quietly to herself, imagining the festivities that would surround such a momentous event. Just the idea of how she could use such a sacrifice to solidify her power both excited and gave her cause for thought.

Thinking about the Sylvars made her wonder again about Gilmreth. At the back of her mind, she still felt extremely uncomfortable about the dragon. The centuries old writings of Tirol Sylvar sent a warning signal to Jalene. Faintly, a voice in the back of her mind whispered that she had unleashed a monster, a creature that could destroy everything, including herself, if she didn’t destroy it first. A brief vision of herself shackled to the top of the temple flashed through Jalene’s mind. Gilmreth hovered above, ready to feed, his fetid breath nearly overwhelming her. Shaking her head, Jalene fought to ignore the terrifyingly haunting visualization.

Turning, she stared at the Stone of Loraine glowing softly in its case. Surely Gilmreth couldn’t resist the stone, the greatest amulet to come from the Golden Age? Closing her eyes, she leaned back, relaxing for a moment. This was her city. The people worshiped her and she controlled the dragon, not vice versa. She would have to watch Storn Daes. Something just didn’t feel right there, particularly his surprising knowledge of the Stone of Loraine. That had stunned Jalene considerably. The man had a past, a mystery that someday Jalene would uncover.

Later, Jalene retired to her bedroom. Removing her clothes she took a long luxurious bath, enjoying the warm water and the calming effect it had on her. After a long while, she went to bed and fell into a fitful sleep. In her dreams, she saw her past where she was abused as a child, and always at the end of her dreams was the dragon. The same dragon that seemed to haunt her dreams night after night. Her dreams always ended the same way. She was alone with the dragon, her sorcery had vanished, and the dragon seeking his revenge on the poor mortal who had tried to control him.

Chapter Thirteen

Lynol sat at the long oak table in Malcon’s underground crypt, reading her mother’s diary for the hundredth time. Numerous books and scrolls lay open and unrolled upon the table, pulled down from the crowded book filled shelves. There was so much information mentioned casually in the diary that she and Malcon didn’t fully understand. The amount of knowledge lost since the Worldfire was incredible! The mysterious wonders the diary hinted at, the life style the ancients had taken for granted, the complicated and impossible machines they created and operated was unbelievable.

They had done considerable research using Malcon’s extensive library of old books and scrolls just to be able to understand part of what her mother described in her diary. The world that Cathy had lived in had been truly amazing.

“Your mother would have been a very intriguing person to have met,” stated Malcon, watching Lynol from inside the constantly shifting spectral blue light of his dais. “With what we now know from your mother’s diary, much of the ancient complex underneath Firestorm Mountain is held in some type of protective stasis field that prevents the ravages of time from affecting it. Their science was truly astounding!”

“You have no memory of my mother coming down inside the crypt and reprogramming you to reveal yourself to me as she says in her diary?” asked Lynol, wishing Malcon remembered her mother.

“No, nothing. I have searched my memories and there is nothing there, just a strange compulsion to do what I did. I can’t explain it,” replied Malcon, looking deeply into Lynol’s light blue eyes.

Lynol sighed, leaning back in her chair and gazing at Malcon. She had hoped that he would remember once he knew what had happened.

“When the sleepers finally wake they will have access to most of their equipment and advanced technology,” Lynol spoke wistfully, wishing she could be there to see that wondrous day.

“The people in our villages, along with the sleepers, can rebuild our world and establish a new Golden Age rather quickly,” continued Lynol, knowing that her descendants might be there, hoping that they would be. “Perhaps even the type of world that Jason Sylvar had envisioned so long ago. The type of world my mother had hoped to eventually live in before Adam brought down the Worldfire.”

“But first we have to stop Gilmreth and find this Adam Grayson your mother mentions,” Malcon replied, his face creasing slightly which was normal when he was deep in thought. “Strange that we haven’t heard anything about another sorcerer, particularly of the power your mother says this Grayson possesses. If she couldn’t find him with the abilities she possessed, we may also have a very difficult time.”

“Mother thought there was a slight chance he may have returned to stasis,” Lynol said thoughtfully, glancing down at the diary. “He obviously had a stasis chamber hidden somewhere within the mountain. Perhaps he didn’t like our world and went back to sleep hoping for better times.”

“Perhaps,” the simulacrum replied doubtfully, looking at his beautiful young student. “But if he is as intelligent as your mother’s diary suggests, he would know that our population has been decreasing for generations. If he was to sleep too long, there may be no one left for him to rule when he awakes a second time. No, he must be awake. This may very well explain everything that has been going on in Draydon and why it is occurring now. We must proceed cautiously as your mother suggests.”

Lynol let out a deep breath; she knew Malcon was probably right. She thumbed through her mother’s diary, reading a few excerpts, hoping to find something that would help give them a clue as to Adam’s whereabouts and possibly how to defeat Gilmreth. She felt like a tremendous weight rested upon her shoulders. If they failed to find a way to destroy Gilmreth, there was a good chance that when the sleepers awoke in another two hundred years there would be no one left alive to greet them other than the dragon!

From her mother’s diary Lynol knew that Adam would be very good at subterfuge and getting others to do his bidding. With Jalene making an appearance and the awakening of Gilmreth, Lynol knew in her heart that this Adam Grayson was behind it. It would explain so much. He had to be staying in the shadows lest he be discovered before his plans were completed, whatever they might be. She glanced down at the diary in front of her.

-

Page 1

I have decided to keep a diary. I just turned fourteen today, and the other kids threw me a surprise birthday party! Our studies continue to take up most of our time. The adults keep us very busy, constantly testing us and having us work on mastering our growing abilities. Very seldom do we leave the complex. Even then we are under extremely close supervision. We are not allowed to use our powers outside the mountain. The outside world must not learn of our special powers and abilities until we are ready to show them the good we can do.

My birthday party was really fun; I even had a huge cake with candles! There are over six hundred of us, after all! Of course, only those in my own age group were at the party, but that was still over sixty kids plus all the adults that were supervising us. I was given this diary as a present, and I plan to write in it every chance I get!

Jason Sylvar even came by to say hello today. He is very impressed with my progress and other than Adam, says I am by far the most advanced in our entire section! Jason says that considering my age, I am far ahead of what the scientists expected. He seems to be very pleased. Adam is far ahead of the rest of us and is three years older than I am. He is in one of the other dorms, and I only see him during our training sessions. He is very powerful!

Jason is our leader and is in charge of the underground complex. He is so strong and kind and extremely handsome! Everyone says that Jason believes that we can solve many of the world’s expanding problems when we come of age. I can hardly wait!

-

Page 170

Adam and Jason had an argument in the training facility today; it was horrible! We were practicing our sorcery and Adam and several of his cronies were picking on some of the weaker younger children. Jason intervened, telling them to stop. Adam turned and told Jason that he couldn’t tell him what to do anymore. Jason’s hand went to his dark blue amulet and Adam relented. I could tell that Jason was extremely angry with Adam. Jason’s amulet is very strong and Adam’s afraid of it. We all have amulets, but it will be years before they are as powerful as Jason’s. He is the oldest sorcerer and was born with his abilities, a true genetic mutation from what the scientists say. I am very worried about Adam. I wish he would leave the younger children alone. Sometimes he even frightens me with some of his antics.

-

Page 220

I turned eighteen today! Jason took all the advanced students to see the dragons. They are so beautiful and friendly. They’re truly a wondrous creation. Jason says the scientists designed the dragons as an experiment to see if it could be done. It’s hard to believe that our scientists have the ability to create a new creature that has never existed before.

The oldest dragon is a white one called Snowden. He is a gorgeous creature and seems very friendly. The dragon even allowed me to touch his forehead. It was almost as if he could sense that I would never harm him. I think Snowden and I are going to be great friends! Jason says the dragons have the potential to be highly intelligent, but right now they are very childish.

I asked Jason about Snowden. He seemed surprised at how interested I was in Snowden and suggested that I spend some time with the dragon each day. Even though the dragons are very large, they are also extremely gentle. Jason is interested to see how the dragon reacts to me over an extended period of time.

Adam was with us today, and he looked at the dragons so strangely it was almost frightening. Adam’s really starting to worry me. He leaves me alone most of the time; after all, my powers are nearly as strong as his now. I have the impression that Adam doesn’t like that. He wants to dominate everything and doesn’t like it when I outdo him in one of our exercises.

Whenever Adam is around, I've been watching over the younger children. He leaves them alone when he knows that I’m nearby. I don’t know if he is actually afraid of me or that I will report any abusive behavior of his to Jason.

He and his cronies have been spending a lot of time together when we are not studying. I fear they are up to something. I wonder if I should speak to Jason about my fears. He has so much on his mind recently that I hate to bother him with my suspicions.

-

Page 280

Disaster has struck! Adam and his diabolical friends have seized control of part of the complex. They now control the dragons and hold some of the scientist’s captive. He’s issued an ultimatum to the government demanding that they recognize his rule of the complex and allow him to set up an autonomous state around the mountain governed by him. He has to be crazy to pull a fool stunt like this. The government will never tolerate his demands!

Adam believes that with our powers we are better suited to decide our own destiny. He doesn’t want the government involved anymore. He thinks they will use our powers for their own sinister purposes. I think he’s gone mad! His power has driven him over the brink of sanity. Surely Adam will be stopped before this goes any further!

-

Page 285

Jason and some of us tried using our combined powers to breach the part of the complex Adam has seized. He managed to activate a security device that neutralizes our powers in that section. The device was supposed to be top secret. The scientists constructed it at the insistence of the government in order for our funding to be maintained. This is disheartening news. Even our own government must fear us! It is directional, and Adam is keeping it focused on an area of the complex that we must pass through to reach him and his followers. We can neither reach him nor escape the complex. He has us sealed in!

Adam has placed heavily armed guards at all the entrances to his section of the complex. Most of the base’s military personnel have sided with him. I wonder if Adam has found some way to use his powers to control people’s minds. I hope not, for that would be horrifying. We can’t retake the complex without heavy casualties. We’re considering our options.

Jason fears that Adam’s group could adversely affect the dragons; they are so trusting, young, and innocent! Jason is concerned about the new dragon named Gilmreth. Something went disastrously wrong when the dragon was created and the scientists have been thinking about destroying him. Jason says that Gilmreth might be mentally unstable. I know that Adam has taken an interest in this new dragon. I noticed him at Gilmreth’s pen nearly every time I went to see Snowden. I am extremely worried about Snowden. I visit the white dragon daily. I so fear for my friend. What are we going to do?

-

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One of the brilliant captured scientists that Adam controls has created a new ruby red crystal amulet. Jason says the scientist Loraine has been working on a method to amplify our powers using these new experimental crystals. Adam’s group has been focusing their power into this new crystal and threatening to use it against the government if they don’t give in immediately to his demands. Jason has pleaded with Adam to return control of the complex back to him before it’s too late, but he has refused to comply.

Jason says that some people in the government have always been concerned about what was going on in this complex. He’s afraid the government, under pressure from these elements, might overreact to Adam’s threats. Jason feels it’s imperative we find a way to retake the complex before the government does something rash. He knows that Adam is extremely naïve about the workings of the government because he has spent most of his life here inside the mountain. Adam can have no idea about the frightful repercussions his demands could cause.

-

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It’s horrible. Disaster has struck us! The government attacked the complex without warning today with tactical nuclear weapons. Adam is furious! Jason can’t believe the government could have been so foolish. They seriously underestimated the power of Adam’s group and the strength of this underground complex. The complex’s defenses are so powerful that it was hardly damaged during the brief attack.

But that’s not the worst of it! Adam used his group’s powers, focused through Loraine’s crystal, to seize control of the guidance systems of several incoming missiles. He diverted them, causing them to fall upon two nearby cities as an abject lesson to the government. The casualties in the cities must be tremendous! Jason has gone to his quarters in shock. He believed that given enough time, he could have reasoned with Adam or even retaken the complex without bloodshed. Jason’s wonderful dreams for our future have come crashing down. He is devastated by this corrupt and deadly use of our power. The government will never forgive us for what Adam has done! What will happen to us now? I don’t know what we shall do!

-

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It’s Armageddon! The whole world has fallen into war! Nuclear weapons are going off all over the globe. What has Adam done? We wanted only good to come from our special abilities.

Our government had to reveal to the United Nations the secret of our underground complex after their failed use of tactical nuclear weapons. The other countries were outraged and frightened at the research being done here. They feared what we could potentially do with our powers when they are fully developed. The other world governments demanded that our facility either surrender or that our government retake the complex no matter what the cost. However, due to the disastrous results of the last attempt, the American government delayed taking military action. They didn’t want to lose any more cities!

When no action was taken, the other countries launched their own nuclear weapons from space based missile platforms at our complex. They must have really been afraid of us. Who can blame them after what Adam did in the original attack when he diverted the missiles into populated cities. When he detected the new attack, he caused many of the missiles to be deflected. They fell upon helpless cities all over the country. There were so many missiles coming toward our mountain that all Adam’s group could do was to divert them away from us.

Our own government retaliated against the countries that had launched the preemptive strike, not realizing until too late that the deadly missile strikes had been aimed at our complex and not the entire country. They didn’t realize Adam had deflected the missiles. I fear that billions of people are dying because of Adam’s uncontrolled lust for power. Now the world lies in ruins!

Jason has called an emergency meeting for tonight. He has a plan to try to regain control of the complex from Adam, regardless of the cost to us. Jason had hoped to settle this peacefully. HHe never foresaw the attack by the other governments and the massive devastation it has caused. This may be the last time I see many of my closest friends. No matter what we decide, many of us will probably die!

-

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We have control of the complex! Many of us are dead or seriously wounded. Jason fears that nearly sixty percent of the people in the complex have been killed in the terrible fighting today. Many of those that died were sorcerers and military. Out of nearly four hundred of us that supported Jason, barely two hundred of us are still alive. We couldn’t have succeeded except Jason and I managed to use the dragons as a diversion.

We got into their minds, causing them to attack Adam’s group. This took Adam and his followers completely by surprise. We couldn’t have done this if not for all the time I spent with Snowden. It was easy for me to mind link with my white dragon, and then Jason did the rest. We used the dragons to destroy the machine that was keeping us from using our powers in Adam’s section of the complex. Jason says the dragons will have to be destroyed. Their minds have been driven irreversibly unstable by the horrors they were forced to commit! I feel heartbroken knowing that Snowden has also been affected. He didn’t even seem to recognize me today. The white dragon and I had become extremely close.

We have lost so many friends. It seems like I have been crying for hours! Jason has tried to contact the government to let them know the complex has been retaken, but no one acknowledges. Our long-range sensors still show nuclear weapons exploding everywhere! Already the local atmosphere is showing a discouraging increase in radiation levels.

-

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Jason plans to put most of us into deep sleep. We will awaken in thirty two hundred years. He estimates that it will take that long for the radiation to disperse and the biosphere to fully recover. We have tried for many days to contact other survivors or governments, but have been met with only silence. No organized government survives anywhere. There may be isolated pockets of survivors outside the complex, but the radio frequencies are silent. The few satellites we can communicate with show a poisoned and devastated world.

Adam hasn’t been found! Jason fears that Adam may have put himself to sleep somewhere beneath the mountain. A few of his staunchest followers are also missing. Jason doesn’t know if they have joined Adam or fled the mountain. We have also banished to the outside world those of Adam’s supporters too dangerous to be allowed to remain inside the complex. Whether they can survive outside the complex with the high radiation levels is not known. We furnished them with minimal survival gear and some anti radiation drugs.

It will take us several months to finish constructing the many stasis chambers we will need to survive our long sleep. We are setting up a stasis field that will protect the main part of our complex during our hibernation. When we finally awake, we should have most of our complex available to support us. Our power source is geothermal and should be able to furnish us with all the power that we need.

Jason and a few others will remain awake to monitor our stasis chambers. They may join us in deep sleep later. He told me that he plans to stay awake to monitor the outside world. I think Jason feels responsible for what has happened. He spends hours listening to the silent radio waves, hoping for survivors.

I have been chosen for a dubious task. I may have to face Adam someday. Jason has set sensors throughout the complex to wake me if Adam is ever detected. I am now the most powerful sorcerer in our group; even more powerful than Jason! I am astonished at some of the things that I am now able to do. During the struggle with Adam, my abilities seemed to have blossomed. If only I had been this strong before, things might have been different!

Loraine has also created a new blue crystal, which Jason has entrusted to me. It has the potential to be much more powerful than the red crystal she created for Adam. With the new one, I should be able to defeat Adam if he appears. He no longer has Loraine’s red crystal; it has been sealed in the main vault. It has been corrupted from Adam’s use, its intricate crystalline structure destabilized. It will be centuries before it returns to normal. I hope Adam doesn’t cause me to awaken early. I so wish to wake with my friends thirty two hundred years from now!

-

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Adam is awake! The complex’s computer woke me this morning. I watched him on the sensors, but he stayed in the outer perimeter of the complex as if he was searching for something. Who knows how long he has been awake; possibly years! He looks much older on the sensors than when I last saw him. Much of the perimeter has deteriorated, and some of the weaker stasis fields have failed! We only put the main installation under heavy stasis protection. I thought about trying to wake some of the others, but Adam is my responsibility. He must not become aware of the other sleepers. If he does, there is no doubt in my mind that he would do everything in his power to try to regain control of the complex and those that still sleep within it. He must never learn what is hidden beneath the mountain! I must face Adam alone!

I have accessed the main computer log. According to it, Jason didn’t get a chance to destroy the dragons. They managed to break free and escape down the main complex entrance, penetrating the protective seals and allowing harmful radiation into parts of the complex. The dragon Gilmreth led the escape. There is no record of what happened to Snowden. Jason resealed the complex, but many people fell ill from radiation sickness. Jason and the few remaining sorcerers who didn’t go into deep sleep believe they can use their powers to heal most of them.

Jason has discovered a spell to eliminate the hazardous radiation from both the ground and people. He left me an explanation of that spell. According to Jason’s last log entry, he is taking the survivors outside to start a new society. He has cleared a small area around the mountain of radiation. The new society will be very primitive and based entirely on agriculture.

He doesn’t want to unseal the section of the complex where we are asleep. Most of the complex's equipment is stored there for our eventual use. There are too many small, scattered bands of survivors on the outside that blame us for the destruction they now call the Worldfire. Evidently the government had broadcast our secret across the world even as the bombs were falling, hoping it would stop the destruction. Unfortunately, most of the governments involved in the attack had already known and feared us. The broadcast made no difference at all! He feels it will be safer for us to sleep and awaken in a future where we have been long forgotten.

Yes, there were survivors! More than Jason had dared to hope for. Many had survived in basements, underground rooms, makeshift shelters, and even caves. Jason feels responsible for their continued wellbeing. He and the other sorcerers and sorceresses with him have been curing them of the radiation poison many are suffering from.

Jason’s last message is to me! He wasn’t ever able to find Adam even though he searched every part of the mountain he possibly could. He has set up a protective spell around the stasis installations so Adam, if he is in suspended animation, won’t be able to detect us with his powers when he wakes. Adam will be alone, and I have Loraine’s new crystal. From what I saw on the screens, Adam did indeed have a stasis box hidden and has obviously been awake for several years. I will have to be extremely careful when I leave the complex. Adam left the complex over an hour ago evidently not finding what he was seeking. I wonder what it was?

I just finished walking through the chamber looking at the stasis boxes that contain so many of my friends. I hope I can rejoin them in sleep sometime soon, but right now I have to follow Adam. Jason had faith that I could succeed in removing this last threat to our future. I only hope he was correct. I wonder what the world outside is like, what will I find? What will I do when I finally come face to face with Adam for the final time?

-

That was the final entry in the diary. There were many pages that followed listing various spells and special learning techniques. Lynol knew her mother never found Adam, but found her father instead. Since that time there had been no sign or trace of the male sorcerer. There was only Jalene.

“I have a thought about where Adam might be,” said Malcon, interrupting Lynol’s contemplation of her mother’s diary. The simulacrum had spent many long hours studying the diary and its implications and what they knew was going on in Draydon.

“Where?” Lynol asked, startled. Lynol turned to face Malcon’s glowing chimerical figure expectantly. “There is no sign of Adam anywhere. If he’s in Draydon, he’s well hidden.”

“Think about it for a moment,” Malcon replied in his calm lecturing tone of voice, which he used so often, looking patiently at Lynol with his deep blue eyes. “Jalene has appeared on the scene, and we know that somehow she has managed to get the Stone of Loraine from the underground complex. She has freed Gilmreth. Your powers come from your mother, one of the original sorcerers. Where did Jalene’s powers come from?”

“I guess I never really thought about that,” Lynol replied, surprised at the question. “I assumed her powers developed naturally.”

“Perhaps, but we now know that yours did not.” Malcon reminded her pointedly. “Your powers came from your mother. Sorcery has been absent for centuries. Why does it show up now all of a sudden and in two different women at the same time? That is just too much of a coincidence.”

“There has to be a reason,” Lynol replied, thinking about what Malcon had just said.

Lynol paused, remembering what she had learned from her mother’s diary. Everything seemed to point to Adam’s manipulation. Jalene was several years older than she was. Adam would have known about the Stone of Loraine. Could Jalene be another ancient sorceress that had gone to sleep with Adam, someone that was helping him to achieve his plans? Could she be facing two sorcerers from the Golden Age?

“Could another sorceress have been in stasis with Adam? My mother and Jason believed that only Adam went into stasis. They mention in the diary that several members of Adam’s group were never found,” Lynol said slowly, trying to reason where Malcon was going with this.

“They were probably correct in their belief,” Malcon replied with a slight nod of his head. “From the diary, we know they eventually accounted for nearly everyone except Adam and a few others. They didn’t really believe that Adam had the time or the resources to arrange for anyone else to escape into stasis with him.”

“So where does that leave us?” Lynol asked, perplexed. “Where did Jalene come from?”

“Suppose Adam managed to find a young woman, a descendent from that original group Jason led from the complex,” Malcon replied. “We don’t know how many surviving sorcerers stayed with Jason.”

“I don’t think my mother even knew,” Lynol replied, her right hand lying upon her mother’s diary. “There are probably some records in the complex, but I doubt if I could locate them.”

Malcon stared thoughtfully at Lynol. “Adam could have found a descendent from one of those earlier sorcerers with latent abilities. He could have awoken those powers, perhaps even training Jalene indirectly. We know that sorcery was only limited here close to Firestorm Mountain. In other areas far off, a new sorceress could have been found and trained.”

“Hiding behind the scenes, and letting Jalene take all the risks. Getting the Stone of Loraine and freeing Gilmreth,” added Lynol, seeing the possibilities. “Jalene probably doesn’t even know she’s being controlled if Adam is indeed behind her. If that’s correct, then at some point in time Adam is bound to come out into the open.”

“He would probably be close to Jalene’s seat of power. Perhaps someone in the group of trusted followers closest to her,” Malcon commented, his form flickering spectrally in the radiant blue light of the dais.

“A guard or priest from her temple,” Lynol responded, her light blue eyes widening. “Or even a prominent citizen of Draydon. Adam has had years to set up a fake identity.”

“I suspect he would want to be very close to Jalene.” Malcon replied. “Perhaps he is one of her two High Priests.”

“This Storn Daes or Baelen Dal we have been hearing so much about,” Lynol said, recalling the stories circulating around the village about the two men.

“It will be very difficult for us to goad him out of hiding,” Malcon stated. “We may have to wait until he makes a mistake. At some point, he won’t be satisfied with staying in Jalene’s shadow. He will want to run things.”

“We must be ready, then,” replied Lynol, knowing that she must complete her mother’s perilous mission, softly touching the blue crystal that hung comfortingly from her neck.

“Your mother would be very proud of you,” Malcon said, his gaze unwavering as he studied his student.

Lynol’s abilities, especially the magnitude of those abilities, had come as a pleasant surprise. But the inherent, latent power of her blue amulet had stunned the simulacrum once he actually realized where it had come from. He hadn’t as yet revealed to Lynol just how powerful her amulet was.

Lynol’s crystal was a creation from the Golden Age. It was the culmination of a branch of science, which had existed only in the underground complex. It allowed the crystal to harness and draw its power from the energy that held subatomic particles together. It was a science shrouded in secrecy, which had been lost in the Worldfire.

-

Later that afternoon, Lynol took a relaxing plunge in the secluded pond, enjoying the peace and quiet. The cool water caressing her lightly tanned skin as she swam out into the center. Floating on its surface, she contemplated the pool for a moment, letting its deep, silent water fill her mind. Gradually she let her mind sink into its indigo depths. She could sense the smooth, sandy bottom and the small hidden fractures beneath where the cold fresh water welled up. A few small trout swam along the bottom, oblivious to Lynol’s presence.

It felt good to relax and escape from the grueling lessons she was forcing herself to endure in order to learn as much about her powers as possible. Her mother’s diary hinted at so much that she should be able to do. She wouldn’t be satisfied until she had mastered all of her abilities. There were also pages upon pages in the back of the diary of spells and uses for her powers that neither she nor Malcon had even suspected.

Lynol drew in a deep breath and dove down toward the shadowy depths of the pond. She touched the sandy bottom and then shot back up quickly and effortlessly to the surface. The diary had brought her so much closer to the mother she had never gotten to know. It was as if a part of her life that had always been missing had suddenly reappeared.

“It’s a good thing Kalvin didn’t come with me,” a teasing soprano voice called from the shore.

Turning her head, Lynol saw Dresdia standing at the water’s edge watching her with an impish grin on her face. “Hi,” said Lynol, smiling.

Swimming back to shore, she ran up on the bank and gave Dresdia a big, wet hug.

“Good thing I came to go swimming,” Dresdia laughed as the two girls broke apart and she began shrugging out of her clothes. “Kalvin wanted to come, but he had to finish his chores.”

Lynol felt a sudden pang of disappointment, but it quickly vanished. She knew she would get to see Kalvin sometime soon. She just had to be patient.

Dresdia smiled, knowing Lynol missed Kalvin not being here. She’d noticed the disappointed look on Lynol’s face when she had realized that Kalvin wasn’t coming. They both have it really bad, she thought.

Finished undressing, Dresdia eyed the skimpy swimming suits they both were wearing. “Might be a good thing Kalvin didn’t come, these swimming suits don’t hide much. He has a hard time keeping his eyes off you anyway!”

“I guess these do show more than they hide,” replied Lynol, laughing at the thought of Kalvin getting embarrassed while looking down at the thin string of blue material stretched tautly over her ample breasts.

Maybe it would be a good idea to make the next one a little wider. No point in drawing Kalvin’s eyes to areas they didn’t need to be! She was very aware of Kalvin’s looks. Just the thought of Kalvin seeing her like this made Lynol feel all warm and tingly inside.

“We sure have filled out a lot,” commented Dresdia, putting her hands on her shapely hips and posing. “Tarn Wilton even came calling the other night.”

“Really?” Lynol replied, interested in hearing about this, recalling the Wiltons with their fiery red hair. Tarn Wilton was one year older than Lynol and Dresdia. He lived on a farm just south of the village.

“We didn’t do much but sit around and talk. I think mom was pleased that a boy finally came to see me. She was starting to think they had forgotten all about me way out here,” Dresdia giggled, wading slowly out into the water. “Of course, you don’t have to worry about that with Kalvin around. He has made it clear to everyone that he has his eyes set on you!” teased Dresdia, brushing a strand of errant blond hair back from her eyes.

Lynol turned a little red as she followed Dresdia back into the water. “Kalvin is sort of fun to be around,” Lynol admitted cautiously, and then began laughing at her own foolishness. After all, this was Dresdia she was talking to. “I really do like your brother. We just don’t have the time to become as close as I know Kalvin wants.”

“I don’t know why you two dance around the issue all the time,” complained Dresdia, splashing Lynol playfully. “You’re both in love but afraid to admit it!”

Lynol hesitated a moment before answering. “I think we’re both afraid of what the future holds for me. How can we dare to hope or plan a future with Gilmreth and Jalene out there waiting? Someday I will have to face both of them.” And Adam, she added silently to herself. “Maybe, when all this is over, Kalvin and I can think about romance.”

She knew she had to hold her feelings for Kalvin in check. No matter how hard it was at times. There could be no distractions in her studies. Too much was at stake!

“That’s the future, let’s worry about now!” Dresdia replied, not wanting those thoughts to ruin their limited time together. She lay in the water, floating on her back. “Race you to the other side!” With a big splash, Dresdia flipped over and dove into the deeper water, striking out for the other shore with Lynol in close pursuit.

Later the two girls lay on a blanket, staring up through the trees with their protective canopy of green leaves at the soft blue sky above, which was spotted with an occasional puffy white cloud. Birds sang pleasantly in the nearby pines. Soon they would have to start for home before the sun faded beyond the mountains. Fortunately, the small pond was close enough to both of their homes that the walk wasn’t too long.

“You need to come and see WhiteStorm,” said Dresdia, rolling over on her side so she could see Lynol. “I’ve been riding him a lot recently in the meadows on the farm. Kalvin has done a really good job of training him.”

“I would like that,” replied Lynol, nodding, thinking it would also give her an excuse to see Kalvin. She occasionally rode one of the two horses they had, but WhiteStorm was growing up to be quite an animal. He had taken a liking to Lynol, and she really enjoyed riding the young horse on the few occasions she had been able to. “I will try to come over sometime in the next few days. I need to talk to Kalvin, and I would love to see WhiteStorm again.”

-

Later that evening Lynol sat on the steps of the porch with her father, watching the sun fall reluctantly in the west. It touched the mountain and began to move behind it. Purple fingers of ominous shadow began to move slowly down the steep slopes of Firestorm Mountain.

Lynol hadn’t told her father about what she had found in the ancient complex beneath the mountain, only that she and Kalvin had found a few things of interest and the simulacrum was studying them. Adam and her mother’s true origin would stay a secret for now.

“How go the lessons?” her father asked Lynol, who was staring with a pondering faraway look at the mountain.

“Fine,” replied Lynol, glancing at her father. “Malcon says that I have already surpassed Lys in my studies. We have to be extremely careful. Some of the stronger spells I have been learning can only be done in the crypt. It has some special devices in the walls that prevent any spells cast inside from being detected outside.”

“The people in Galvin and the other villages on this side of the mountain are really getting worried,” her father spoke, staring at the distant, malevolent mountain. “Tohm Mystol said there was a trader in from Handon’s Ferry the other day. They feel it’s only a matter of time before Jalene demands that we come to work in her city. No one understands why it hasn’t happened already; she’s already enslaved people from much farther away. If this keeps on, she will have everyone living in and around Draydon!”

“There must be a reason why she has left us alone,” replied Lynol, looking at her father. “From what I understand, she has left all the villages and towns around Firestorm Mountain alone, also. It’s only the people from the far outlying regions she has called in.”

“Supposedly those villages and small towns close to Draydon are supplying her city with food,” her father commented with worry in his eyes. “That’s the only reason they have been left alone. But even in those areas her temple guards and priests abound.”

“We’re hearing too much bad news about these temple guards and priests of hers,” commented Lynol, looking at her father with a worried frown across her face. “Dresdia is frightened to death about what will happen when they do show up.”

“As we all should be,” Damon replied. He knew once they did appear, Lynol might be forced to reveal her abilities. Damon didn’t know if his daughter was ready for that confrontation yet.

“Perhaps they are still too busy on their side of the mountain to worry about us,” Lynol suggested, but in the back of her mind she feared that their days of being left alone were numbered. Jalene wouldn’t ignore them forever!

Lynol took a long breath, knowing that her destiny was rapidly approaching. Her right hand went to her amulet, touching it. She wished her mother were here. She could use her guidance and knowledge. Sometimes she felt so alone. She knew her father tried, but there was a special bond that existed between a mother and daughter, one that Lynol sorely missed. Gwen had tried to fill that void in her heart, but she still wasn’t Lynol’s mother.

She stared at the mountain and then briefly touched the dragon’s mind, making sure Gilmreth was still asleep. She could dimly sense his dark, malicious presence beneath the mountain.

“But what about Gilmreth?” asked her father, staring at Lynol. “Why hasn’t the dragon been seen on our side of the mountain? He's been routinely spotted on the other side over other villages and towns. His cave is on our side, yet the dragon never comes our way.”

“Who knows?” replied Lynol, taking her eyes and mind off the mountain. Rising to her feet, she stood on the porch, feeling tired. “Perhaps the dragon is avoiding our side of the mountain because of what Lys and Malcon did to him. At least, that’s what we hope.”

Stretching, she gazed toward the silent Sylvar Stone. A decent night’s rest in her soft bed sounded highly enticing. Already, the chickens had retired to the hen house, and she could barely see the old, ever-vigilant rooster standing guard at the entrance. Down in the darkening meadow, their cattle were idly grazing on the rich green grass that now blanketed the ground thanks to Lynol’s sorcery. “All we can do is be patient and wait and see what happens. We aren’t controlling the events, Jalene is.”

“That’s what worries me,” her father spoke with a tinge of concern edging into his voice. “We don’t know what she may do next. Gilmreth or her temple guards could show up tomorrow!”

“All I can do is to continue to work on my studies,” said Lynol, trying to calm her father’s fears. She too had been wondering just what she would do when that fateful day arrived. “Malcon is quite satisfied with my progress. He says my powers are growing very rapidly now.”

“I wish there was something I could do to help,” her father said quietly. “I fear all this being on your shoulders. I still don’t like the idea that you may have to face the dragon. Is there nothing in what you and Kalvin found in Firestorm Mountain that might help?”

“We are still studying that information,” Lynol replied, not wanting to sound evasive. She wasn’t prepared to tell him about her mother’s heritage. She wasn’t sure how her father would react. “So far we’re still not sure just what it means or what we can do with it. Don’t worry, Father; we still have time. It could be many months or even several years before we see Gilmreth or any of the temple guards. I feel really tired. I’m going to bed,” she said, yawning sleepily. “See you in the morning.”

“Get a good night’s sleep, Lynol. We can talk again in the morning,” spoke Damon, standing and giving her a fatherly hug, knowing she was tired and needed her rest. He knew that sorcery took its toll on her.

-

Damon watched his daughter, now turned into a young woman, enter the old family home. He’d stood by and watched her grow rapidly the last few years. No longer was Lynol the helpless, defenseless child of a few short years ago. At times, Damon thought he could sense much of her mother in her. They shared so much in common, but Kathryn hadn’t been a sorceress.

Taking one last, plaintive look at Firestorm Mountain, Damon turned and went into the house. He had to rise early in the morning to begin haying one of the new meadows, which Lynol had cleared and enriched with her sorcery. If not for Jalene and Gilmreth, Lynol’s powers could do so much good for the people who lived close to the mountains. Damon hoped that someday, when this was all over, she could do just that.

Chapter Fourteen

Damon and Lynol were in Galvin; much had changed during the last few years in the close-knit agricultural community. The Mystol’s store had seen increased competition from Addison as more of the farms around Galvin began to produce an abundance of healthy crops. Little did the farmers suspect that Lynol was the one responsible for their sudden good fortune.

Working secretly at night, she had been using her power discretely, in minuscule amounts so as not to risk detection, to clear away much of the Worldfire poison remaining in the soil.

Her mother had left detailed directions for the spell that Jason Sylvar had used originally around Firestorm Mountain. Many of the local farms had barely provided enough to allow families to meagerly survive on for centuries. Those farms now produced bountiful harvests which could be sold or traded in Galvin. Trading at the stores in Galvin had become brisk and prosperous for everyone.

Lynol had also used her sorcery to increase the rainfall in the local area. It was something she thoroughly enjoyed; using her sorcery to create the storms and then controlling them. She could control their intensity, the direction they moved, and even how long they lasted. Kalvin had never allowed her to forget the drenching he received during her first storm incantation. Lynol still flushed in embarrassment whenever he reminded her of it.

Lynol climbed gingerly off the wagon, slightly sore from the long, bumpy ride into Galvin. Rubbing her backside she stretched, looking toward the Mystol’s store as Gwen made an appearance wearing a big smile on her warm face.

“Good heavens, child!” said Gwen, coming down the steps and giving Lynol a big motherly hug, then holding her at arm’s length and gazing at her appreciatively. “If you and Dresdia continue to grow we’ll have men from everywhere flocking to the village to see you. You’re the spitting image of your mother when she was your age; both of you share the same beauty. You’ve really grown into a fine looking young woman!”

“She does look a lot like Kathryn,” said Damon, smiling and stopping to look at his grown up daughter and Gwen.

Damon knew Lynol was now a very powerful sorceress. The years of intensive training in Malcon’s underground crypt had caused her confidence to grow and resolve to become firmer. Lynol had mastered numerous sorcery spells under Malcon’s careful tutelage. Damon had been amazed at what Lynol had learned and could now do.

“What are all those freight wagons over at Addisons?” Damon asked curiously, taking a sack of grain out of the wagon and placing it on his shoulder.

Across the street, half a dozen large freight wagons were being loaded with heavy sacks of grain and other farm products. Several rough looking men stood nearby, watching the loading. Damon didn’t like the looks of them at all. Freight wagons in Galvin had become very rare the past few years since trade with Draydon had literally come to a stop. For some reason, Damon felt uneasy at the sight of the men in front of Addison’s store.

“They’re from Draydon,” Gwen replied somberly, the color draining from her normally rosy face, obviously unhappy with the situation. Frowning at the men in front of Addison’s, she motioned for Lynol and her father to follow her back into the protective environs of her store.

“Addison has started trading with Draydon again. Several large freight wagons with trading goods showed up about two weeks ago. They offered to pay with gold coins for all of our excess crops,” Gwen stated as the three sat down at one of the small tables inside. “They said they wanted to reestablish trade with our side of the mountain.”

“I guess I’m not surprised,” Damon said, concerned, not liking this development. He wished he’d known about this earlier.

They had been so busy the last few weeks harvesting their crops and vegetable gardens that he had delayed making his normal weekly trip into Galvin. Now he wished he had taken the time.

“From our last reports, Jalene has nearly two hundred thousand people living in Draydon,” said Damon, looking with alarm out the window at Addison’s store. “She has brought in nearly everyone from the outlying communities on her side of the mountain. Only those villages and towns around Draydon that she needs to raise the crops to feed her city and those of us on this side of Firestorm Mountain have been left alone. Now it looks like she wants our crops as well.”

“How much longer will we be left alone?” Gwen asked worriedly, shaking her head. “Tohm thinks these traders may be Jalene’s first move toward us. If you hadn’t come into town, he was going to ride out when he gets back from Handon’s Ferry to talk to you.”

“I wish he would have come by before going,” replied Damon, watching the men through the store window. “There has to be a reason why these traders have shown up now.”

“The first group was quite small and didn’t seem dangerous, nor did they stay long,” spoke Gwen, looking at Damon and Lynol. She wished that they hadn’t picked today to come into the village. “We thought they were just some traders from Draydon wanting to sell their products and buy ours like the old days. They were here for only about half a day and then left.”

“Innocent enough,” Lynol said, feeling butterflies in her stomach. She wondered if this was the move by Jalene they had been watching for. Her right hand went briefly to her amulet, feeling its comforting presence beneath her shirt.

“There was another group that arrived several days ago, and they were quite different from the first group,” Gwen continued with a frown spreading across her normally friendly face. “They asked more questions and spent nearly the entire day in the village. The group today is much larger. They rode in early this morning, and they have been over at Addisons ever since they arrived.”

“Why didn’t you trade with the first group?” asked Damon, noticing the absence of trade goods from Draydon in Gwen’s store. “You could definitely use some of Draydon’s trade goods.”

“At first Tohm wanted to, but he didn’t feel like he could trust them,” Gwen replied. “He wanted to wait and see what happened. He also wanted to talk to you and Aldin first. After the group left he went on his trip to Handon’s Ferry. He wanted to trade for some smoked fish to sell and trade at our store. He planned on stopping by your farm on the way back.”

“How soon after Tohm left did the next group arrive?” asked Damon, wishing Tohm had stopped by the farm before going to Handon’s Ferry. Of course, Tohm couldn’t have known the importance of keeping Damon informed since he didn’t know about Lynol and her powers.

“The very next day,” replied Gwen, noticing that Damon was watching Addison’s store through the window. “All the traders in the second group seemed to be very rough characters. They asked a lot of intimidating questions, demanded that we trade exclusively with them, and limit our trading with the local people and other villages on this side of the mountain. They wanted everything brought in by the local farmers to be handed over. They would set the prices, and they weren’t offering much in return.”

“What did you do?” asked Lynol, knowing this must have frightened her. It made her feel aggravated knowing how Gwen must have felt with all this going on and Tohm not here.

“I didn’t know what to do,” Gwen replied in a shaken voice. “Tohm wasn’t here so I told them I would talk it over with my husband when he returned. That seemed to satisfy them for the time being.”

“Unbelievable,” muttered Damon, shaking his head and becoming more worried. This didn’t sound good at all!

Damon suspected the traders were much more than they seemed. He wished Tohm had come on out and warned them, if he had then he and Lynol wouldn’t have come into the village today.

“What kind of questions were they asking?” Damon was worried that this was the first step of what they had feared for so long.

This could well be Jalene’s first move to bring this side of the mountain under her control. He glanced at Lynol, wondering how she felt about all of this. He could see the look of anxiety covering his young daughter’s face.

“Questions about our village’s past,” Pausing, she looked with concern at Lynol, who was listening intently. Gwen thought Lynol didn’t look well; it was almost as if her mind was preoccupied. “Their leader, Dalden Sikes, was particularly interested in knowing if anyone knew any old stories about Gilmreth or Malcon Sylvar.”

“Did anyone tell him about us?” asked Lynol, nervously. Everyone in the village had heard her father talk about Gilmreth and Malcon Sylvar at one time or another.

“Yes, Addison did,” replied Gwen, sounding agitated when she mentioned Addison. “He’s always disliked your family.”

“What about this Dalden Sikes?” Damon asked, his eyes narrowing. “I’ve never heard his name mentioned before.”

“One of our neighbors listened to several of the traders boasting about Draydon in the tavern,” said Gwen, trying to remember the conversation that had been repeated to her. “It seems that Sikes is an important member of the temple guard.”

“That’s not good,” Lynol interjected, her voice restrained, casting a worried and meaningful glance at her father. “Jalene is probably behind this. It could indeed be her first attempt at moving onto our side of the mountain. We need to be very careful how this is handled. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if these traders were actually members of her temple guard. The freight wagons may only be a disguise to allow them to infiltrate our community.”

With a slowly growing knot in her stomach, Lynol didn’t voice all of her concerns. If indeed Jalene was trying to extend her control to this side of the mountain, then how much longer would it be before Gilmreth appeared? Lynol had been hoping for more time to prepare. She still wasn’t sure if she was ready to face the dragon.

“What’s Addison’s role in all of this?” asked Damon, not liking where this was headed.

“Addison has been buying a lot of the excess harvests from the farmers the last few days,” Gwen continued with a displeased look crossing her face. “He sent his men out to some of the local farms offering to buy their excess crops with gold coins.”

“I wonder what Addison has told them?” asked Damon, frowning.

“Knowing Addison and how he has wanted to reopen trade with Draydon,” replied Gwen, “he probably told them everything they wanted to know.”

The man didn’t know the trouble he was inviting into their community. Damon wished he had known about the freight wagons sooner. He had been so busy with harvesting their crops like the rest of the area farmers that he hadn’t had an opportunity to come to the village until today.

“You can almost bet if gold coin was involved his tongue has probably been very loose,” said Damon, shaking his head in aggravation. “The man has no common sense!”

“I have heard rumors from the tavern, where Addison spends his evenings; that’s how I know he has already told them about you and Lynol. He was bragging about it, how finally you might get what’s coming to you,” she continued, looking worriedly at the two.

“That’s not surprising,” replied Damon, standing up and clasping his hands behind his back. He walked over to one of the store windows and looked out. He noticed several of the men over at Addisons were now watching Gwen’s store. He felt a slight chill seeing their intent stares. He wondered if they had seen Lynol and him enter Gwen’s store.

“He has boasted to his friends that the people from the other side of the mountain will take care of the Gors and the Sylvars,” said Gwen, looking at Lynol with worry in her eyes.

“Addison has never forgiven us for not trading with him,” spoke Damon, shaking his head. “He isn’t thinking clearly on this; he could be putting all of us in danger!”

“Did your neighbor hear anything else?” asked Lynol, trying to keep her voice calm. This was sounding worse with everything Gwen said.

“He heard that the traders were extremely interested when Addison told them the Sylvar family still existed.” Gwen answered with a worried look upon her face. “Many of the second group’s questions around Galvin have been about your family and its history, particularly whether there have been any Sylvars in recent times that have shown any signs of being sorcerers!”

“Perhaps it’s a good thing we haven’t had any sorcerers in our family for generations,” Damon replied with a straight face, looking at Gwen. “Maybe the absence of sorcerers on this side of the mountain will encourage them to leave us alone if they realize we are no threat to them.”

“Perhaps,” acknowledged Gwen, glancing at Lynol with a quizzical look. “But a sorcerer to oppose Jalene may be just what we need now. It could be our only salvation. Someone as powerful in sorcery as you have said Malcon was would be a blessing to our community. Without one, we are powerless if Jalene decides to send her temple guards or even Gilmreth to our side of the mountain. I fear that our days of being left alone are nearly over!”

Gwen stood up and walked over to the window to stand beside Damon, glancing out worriedly. The traders were still busy loading their freight wagons. Several were obviously watching her store. She didn’t care for that. It made her nervous wondering what they were up to, especially with Damon and Lynol here.

Turning back to face Lynol, she continued in an anxious voice. “I fear that time is growing short. Jalene eventually will demand our obedience. Yes, a sorcerer or sorceress would be very useful. It’s been amazing how the crops have improved the past few years and how much more fertile the herds have become. Yes, very mysterious indeed,” she commented, looking at Lynol with a knowing look in her eyes.

Lynol had a distinct feeling that Gwen was fishing for an admission from Lynol or Damon that sorcery wasn’t quite as dead as everyone thought on Galvin’s side of the mountain. Lynol shifted uneasily in her chair. Gwen was suspicious from the increased fertility of the soil around Galvin, the increase in viable births among the cattle, sheep, and horses, and possibly even from the frequency of the rainstorms Lynol created.

“Tohm says he can’t ever recall receiving as much rain as we have the last few years,” Gwen went on, her eyes carefully watching Lynol.

The hints were there. Lynol had hoped no one would recognize them; evidently Gwen was growing suspicious. Lynol knew she would have to be even more careful in the future. If Gwen was suspicious, there might be others. She had hated not being able to tell Gwen the truth. Lynol and her father had discussed it, but had decided that it was safer for Tohm and Gwen if they didn’t know.

Lynol knew that once she returned home, she would have to have a long visit with Malcon’s simulacrum in the crypt about these traders from Draydon. Lynol’s long period of secrecy about her powers might very well be ending. In some ways that would be a relief, but it would also mean the beginning of a very dangerous time for her. She wondered if she was ready.

“That would be a comfort, if there was a powerful sorcerer on our side of the mountain,” Lynol ventured cautiously, trying to keep her voice calm. She could feel her heart beating faster. Gwen was so close to discovering the truth! If Gwen asked her directly, Lynol didn’t know if she could deny it. “But if Jalene ever discovered another sorcerer existed, with her power and Gilmreth’s combined they would move to destroy that sorcerer immediately. I don’t know of any such sorcerer, do you, Father?”

“No, of course not,” Damon responded quickly, realizing that Gwen suspected the truth about Lynol. He wondered worriedly if anyone else had grown suspicious. They had tried to be so careful.

Gwen sat back down, and Damon took a seat across from her. Gwen gazed at the two solemnly for a long moment before speaking. “Yes, if there was a sorcerer or sorceress,” she said, emphasizing sorceress and staring at Lynol, “It would probably be best for that person to lie low until they were ready, particularly if they were very young.”

Gwen was interrupted as the front door swung suddenly open. Two rough looking bearded men stepped inside the store, staring with open contempt at Damon and Lynol. One of the men, the taller one, openly leered at Lynol, his gaze moving over her body and focusing on the swell of her breasts as he ran his tongue suggestively over his lips.

“So you’re all that’s left of the mighty Sylvars?” the tall one sneered as the two walked slowly over to the table to stand challengingly above the three. “How many gold coins for a night with your daughter old man? It looks like she’s all the great Sylvars have left to offer!”

Damon stood slowly up, pushing his chair back, anger spreading across his face. He looked at the two men, waiting for their next move and silently cursing Addison the whole time. He was to blame for this situation. He must have seen them enter Gwen’s store and told the traders who they were. Damon didn’t want Lynol to have to use her sorcery. He wondered what he could do to get them out of this.

The tall man suddenly reached out, contemptuously shoving Damon aside and sending him smashing painfully into the wall. Grasping Lynol’s shirt at the neck, he cruelly pulled her out of her chair, forcing her to her feet. Then, releasing his grasp, he moved his hand to her shoulder, his fingers clamping down hard and painfully. He watched Damon daring him to respond to his actions.

“Yes, a night with me and she will never be the same,” he said lustfully, eyeing the young beauty that stood before him. “A young one like this needs a real man to show her just what it means to be a woman!”

“Get out of my store!” Gwen ordered sharply, rising to her feet, panic and concern for Lynol flashing in her eyes.

How dare they threaten Lynol and her father here! She should have had Tohm ride out and warn Damon and Lynol before he left for Handon’s Ferry. This was their fault! They should have taken the danger more seriously. The past few years of nothing happening had made them too complacent.

“Let her go and leave my store!” demanded Gwen, glaring with anger at the two men. “We don’t tolerate this kind of behavior in our village!”

The other man, shorter with unkempt brown hair, only pushed Gwen back down roughly in her chair. She grimaced in shock from the rough unexpected treatment.

“Stay quiet, Mrs. Mystol, and nothing will happen to you,” he warned, his piercing gaze focusing challengingly on Damon. “This doesn’t concern you!”

“Take your filthy hands off of my daughter!” growled Damon, realizing that a confrontation was unavoidable.

Even in his older age, Damon was still a powerful figure of a man. In his younger days, the two men before him wouldn’t have dared to challenge him openly. This was Addison’s fault; Damon was sure of that. It was his way of getting even for all the years Damon had refused to trade at his store. Now Addison had opened his mouth and possibly gotten them all into serious trouble. Something would have to be done about him. Damon just hoped it wasn’t too late.

Lynol stood momentarily frozen, shocked by the open hostility the two men radiated and the feel of the rough, callous hand upon her shoulder. Jerking her shoulder away, she backed up until she felt the solid store wall securely behind her, trembling uncontrollably. Her heart was racing, and she could feel an icy chill spreading across her back. She tried to calm herself as she tried to decide what to do. Her right hand went to the top of her shirt, between her breasts, where she could feel her mother’s amulet through the material. Should she use her sorcery?

“What’s wrong, little one?” the tall man laughed, running his hand through his scraggly blond beard, the leer still on his face. “Never had a man before? I have just what you need.” The man reached down, rubbing his crotch suggestively, his gaze going back to the swell of Lynol’s breasts.

Damon stepped forward suddenly. Grabbing the tall man by the shoulder and shoving him back roughly, he placed himself protectively between Lynol and the two threatening men. “Keep your filthy hands off my daughter!” Damon said warningly, his hands clenching into fists.

Gwen sat petrified, too afraid and shocked to move. She couldn’t believe this was happening, not here in her store! If only Tohm was here! There had to be something she could do to protect Lynol, but what!

“Foolish old man!” the tall one spat angrily, his eyes darkening. “When we’re through with your daughter maybe the rest of the men will want a sample. Young, fresh meat will be a change from what they’re use to!”

Damon, with a look of uncontrolled fury on his face, threw a quick, unexpected punch to the stomach of the taller man, bending him over in pain and driving the air from his lungs. If he were to win, he couldn’t afford to wait for them to talk themselves into a fight. A swift kick to the knee brought the man down to the floor where he lay gasping in pain. The second man stepped quickly back, surprised, eyeing Damon cautiously. The first groaned loudly, standing painfully back up, clutching his stomach and glaring at Damon.

“That was a serious mistake, old man,” the tall one grunted between clenched teeth, drawing in a deep, painful breath. “You’re going to pay severely for that!”

Both men suddenly rushed forward, tackling Damon, knocking him painfully to the hard wood floor with a resounding crash. Gwen let out a scream, and Lynol watched with horror as the men pinned her father, slugging him savagely with their fists.

Quickly, almost instinctively, Lynol pulled her dormant blue crystal out from beneath her shirt. “Stop!” she commanded loudly, her fear evaporating, glaring in anger and growing rage at the two men who were hurting her father.

The two men ignored her, neither even pausing to glance up. Allowing her training from Malcon to take over, Lynol concentrated, weaving an energy pattern in the air. A lattice of clearly defined blue-white energy lines appeared magically at her fingertips. Her crystal began to pulse and twin blasts of blue light reached out from it, striking both men in the head and knocking them instantly unconscious. They collapsed onto the floor next to her father. It all seemed to happen in an instant. Lynol let out her breath, and then turned slowly to face a shocked and still frightened Gwen.

“You really are a sorceress,” Gwen breathed quietly, staring at Lynol with surprised incredulity on her face, still stunned at what had just occurred. “Only a sorceress could have knocked these two men out like you just did. I saw the blue light from your necklace!”

Lynol nodded, stepping quickly over to her father who was trying to get back to his feet, a dazed look on his face. She wanted to make sure he was all right. “Lock the front door, Gwen, and pull the shades so no one can see inside. We need to help father and then decide what to do about these two ruffians. We can’t let my secret get out, at least not yet!”

Lynol helped her father stagger weakly to a chair as Gwen hurriedly shut the front door. She locked it and pulled the shades securely down over the windows and door, preventing anyone from seeing inside. Then she disappeared into a back room, returning shortly with a pitcher of water and a wet towel.

“What are we going to do with these men?” Gwen asked as she administered to Damon’s bruises. One eye had almost swelled completely shut. She ran the wet cloth gently across Damon’s forehead. He looked pale and was still dazed. “They may know that you used sorcery on them, particularly since they’re from Draydon. You said you don’t want that knowledge out yet?”

“No, Gwen,” replied Lynol, looking thoughtfully and distastefully at the two men who lay in an unconscious heap on the floor. “I’m not quite ready to face Jalene; we don’t want her aware of my powers just yet. I can weave a spell that will make these men forget what just occurred. They will remember coming into the store, not finding what they wanted, and then leaving. The only danger will be if Jalene checks the minds of these men. She will be able to find traces of where their memory has been altered. She will know that another sorcerer or sorceress was involved.”

“You can actually do that?” asked Gwen, glancing at Lynol in surprise.

“Yes, I can,” replied Lynol, recalling the spell she would need. “I just have to be careful about what I make them forget and what I chose to allow them to remember.”

“We need to hurry,” responded Damon weakly, his mind clearing, feeling sore and bruised from the brief fight. He wished Lynol hadn’t been forced to reveal herself in such a definitive way in front of Gwen. He didn’t want to place her in any unnecessary danger. “The others may grow suspicious if these two remain inside for very long.”

Lynol walked back over to stand above the two unconscious men. Holding her crystal in her left hand, she concentrated, briefly weaving another potent spell, her crystal flickering with a shimmering blue light. Satisfied with the incantation, Lynol cast the spell upon both men who gradually began to wake.

“Open the door, Gwen,” Lynol said as she carefully watched the two traders, her right hand touching her amulet.

Gwen hurriedly opened the front door and raised the shades as the men slowly regained consciousness. She returned to stand next to Lynol watching the two men nervously. She had so many questions running through her mind. Lynol was a sorceress, a real live honest to God sorceress! That explained why she had seen so little of her the last few years; she must have been learning how to control her powers.

The two men staggered to their feet and walked woodenly to the door as though in a trance. As soon as they stepped outside they hesitated, looking at each other with confusion on their faces. Lynol’s spell was working. Neither remembered why they had come to the store, other than they hadn’t found what they had been looking for. Shrugging their shoulders, the two returned to their freight wagons to help finish loading the heavy sacks of grain.

“Gwen, you can’t say anything about what you saw today,” Lynol whispered quietly, taking Gwen’s hand as the two of them sat back down. “No one can know about my sorcery, at least not yet. You could be in terrible danger if anyone finds out what you know!”

“Don’t worry, child,” Gwen responded with a caring smile. She still felt overwhelmed by everything. “Your secret is safe with me; I won’t even mention it to Tohm. I’m just so excited that you’re a sorceress; a real live sorceress!”

“Thank you, Gwen,” replied Lynol, knowing she could trust Gwen completely. In a way, she felt relieved that Gwen knew. It had always bothered her to keep her sorcery a secret from her. After all, Gwen had helped raise her; she was almost like a mother.

“Do Kalvin and Dresdia know?” Gwen asked, curiously.

“Yes, we’re together too much. There was no way I could have hidden this from them. Besides, it has made it easier having them to talk to,” admitted Lynol, feeling some relief at not having to lie to Gwen anymore. “I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t want to put you in any danger. I’m sorry, Gwen.”

“I know, child,” replied Gwen, nodding her head in understanding, reaching out and putting her hand upon Lynol’s hand. “I will keep your secret and someday, when all this is over, you can tell me everything.”

-

Later that evening, Lynol sat at the large wooden table in Malcon’s crypt, staring thoughtfully at the glowing simulacrum. Malcon stood with folded arms inside the flickering blue light with a contemplative look upon his face. They’d just finished discussing the chaotic events, which had transpired in Galvin earlier that day.

“It’s almost time, Malcon,” Lynol said quietly, feeling her destiny rushing toward her. “Soon I will have to challenge Jalene and Gilmreth. The time is growing very near for the fulfillment of the prophecy at the altar wall. I’m still worried that we haven’t heard anything concerning Adam Grayson.”

“This high priest of Jalene’s, this Storn Daes, must be watched very carefully,” warned Malcon, his blue eyes focusing on Lynol. “He has risen to a position of great power second only to Jalene and could actually be Adam Grayson. He could be the one we are seeking.”

“But nowhere is there any sign of Daes using sorcery. Could Grayson hide his use of sorcery so well that no one, not even Jalene, is aware of it?” Lynol could sense Jalene’s use of sorcery if she concentrated, but never had she detected the use of sorcery from anyone else around her.

“Perhaps,” Malcon replied with a slight nod of his head. “Jalene may be under Daes’s control, perhaps since she was a child. He is our most likely suspect, but Adam Grayson could be very well hidden. Daes may be too visible, too obvious a choice. It could be someone else. Perhaps Baelen Dal or even this Dalden Sikes who was just in Galvin.”

“I just wish we knew for sure,” Lynol responded with worry in her voice. “I don’t know if we dare move against Gilmreth and Jalene until we know for sure where Grayson is.”

“We may not have a choice, Lynol,” Malcon replied, his eyes narrowing. “Events may be about to unfold that we can’t control. We must be ready for whatever the future holds. You did well today in Galvin. We will have to monitor the situation in the village if these traders stick around. It may be necessary for your father or Aldin to visit the village regularly to check on things. We may even want the Mystols to keep watch.”

“I'd hate to get Gwen or Tohm involved,” Lynol replied, worriedly. She didn’t want anything to happen to them.

“I wish my use of sorcery today hadn’t been necessary. I think Gwen was scared to death,” continued Lynol, thinking back over what had happened. It had scared her as well. The way the ruffian’s rough hand had felt on her shoulder and the brutal attack on her father had really frightened her.

“It was a good test of your sorcery under pressure,” Malcon responded, pleased at the way Lynol had handled herself. “Trial by fire and you passed with flying colors. Now, let us continue your lessons. We will worry about Adam Grayson later and also figure out a better method to monitor what is occurring in Galvin.”

Putting that worrisome mystery out of her mind, Lynol opened the spell book in front of her. The ancient book was one of the older books in the crypt, one that Malcon hadn’t allowed her to use until he felt she was ready to begin learning the potent spells it contained.

The book was from the early generations, probably soon after Jason Sylvar left the confines of the Firestorm Mountain complex. It was very advanced in the spells it contained, the type of spells that even Malcon had difficulty mastering when he was alive. With the blue amulet, Lynol had already worked her way through half of the thick book, much to the growing amazement of the simulacrum.

She had also mastered most of the spells in her mother’s diary as well as the book Malcon had left Lys. Around her, the flickering candles and fiery braziers on the walls cast their eerie, magical glow throughout the ancient crypt. Their magical flames were burning ever bright, casting their cool radiance upon Lynol as she studied.

-

Early the next afternoon, Lynol met Dresdia and Kalvin at the swimming pond. She wore form fitting black denims and a white blouse that fit snugly across her breasts. It was too cool for swimming, but a nice picnic lunch under the overhanging trees would do perfectly. The trees were still green, just beginning to turn for the fall season. Soon they would be resplendent in their alluring fall colors of orange, brown, and gold.

Kalvin sat next to Lynol. Over the past several years, their relationship had grown until both felt more comfortable in each other’s presence. No longer was Kalvin so easy to embarrass, nor was Lynol quite as hesitant about revealing her true feelings. Holding hands and an occasional kiss had become very common between the two. Lynol had been careful not to let it go any further than that. Kalvin understood that Gilmreth and the other sorceress had to be dealt with first before their relationship could move to the next level.

His hand reached out, and their fingers met. Kalvin marveled at the warm softness of her slender hand, knowing the awesome power that it hid. “So you knocked both traders unconscious,” Kalvin said, pleased. “I wish I could have been there. I bet Gwen was shocked!”

“I can’t believe the audacity of those men!” Dresdia added, distressed at Lynol and Gwen being put in such danger. “Why are such evil men even being allowed in Galvin? The villagers should put a stop to it! What if either Gwen or Tohm get hurt?”

“It’s the gold they pay with,” replied Lynol, releasing Kalvin’s hand and laying back on the large blanket, staring up at the blue sky between the thick canopy of green leaves above them.

“Greed,” muttered Kalvin, shaking his head. “Addison’s always been too greedy. It’s his biggest failing.”

Closing her eyes briefly, Lynol moved her fingers in a simple spell until a gentle, relaxing breeze could be felt. “Addison and several others want the products they can buy from Draydon. It’s been years since they have had any real trade with them. It’s very tempting for most people. Tohm and Gwen will need to be careful. They have the support of most of the people in the village, so I doubt if the traders will try to do anything to threaten them.”

“Addison has always been a problem,” Kalvin muttered with a tinge of anger in his voice, wishing he could have seen Lynol using her sorcery on the two traders. “The only person he’s concerned about is himself. Someday that man is going to get his. I just hope that I’m there to see it when he does!”

“Addison is Addison,” responded Lynol, nodding her head slightly in agreement. “We all knew something like this would happen eventually and that they wouldn’t leave us alone forever.”

“I still don’t like all these traders from Draydon being in Galvin,” Kalvin went on, not liking the way things seemed to be going in the village.

“Don’t they realize the danger?” asked Dresdia, frowning and feeling frightened at what Lynol, Gwen, and Damon had gone through. “How can the people in the village be so blind?”

“Next time your father goes into town, Father and I will go with him,” Kalvin stated determinedly, wanting to protect Lynol. “Surely they wouldn’t dare bother the three of us!”

“It may be best if we stay away from Galvin as much as possible, at least for a while,” replied Lynol, knowing Kalvin’s concern was real and feeling warm inside at the knowledge. “If we have to go to Galvin, we may indeed all need to go together. I can always use my sorcery behind the scenes if need be, to keep us safe.”

“So, it’s finally coming,” Kalvin said quietly, realizing where all this was leading. His mind went back to the prophecy Lynol had read aloud to them at the sacrificial altar. “If the traders from Draydon are showing up, then it’s only a matter of time before Jalene’s temple guards or Jalene herself makes an appearance.”

Looking at Kalvin, Lynol slowly nodded, knowing he was probably right. Kalvin’s broad shoulders and even tan made him a fine figure of a man. There was little doubt in Lynol’s mind that Kalvin could probably hold his own in most fights.

She wondered just how safe any of them were now. They were living in highly dangerous times. Lynol was afraid it wouldn’t be much longer before Gilmreth made an appearance on their side of the mountain. It wasn’t Jalene she was concerned about. From all the accounts they had heard, she seldom left the confines of her city. It was Gilmreth and Adam Grayson that worried her.

“We need to be extremely careful,” Lynol cautioned as Dresdia opened the picnic basket. “These men may not be what they seem. What better way to send spies into our communities than in the guise of harmless traders?”

“Spies!” Dresdia said sharply, looking at Lynol, her emerald green eyes widening. “Do you think that’s possible?”

“It’s extremely likely,” spoke Kalvin, looking appraisingly at Lynol. “They may want to find out everything they can about us before demanding we go to work for their sorceress. These traders probably have temple guards mixed in with them. She’s enslaved everyone else into her service. Now it may be our turn.”

“We can only wait and see,” Lynol responded, afraid Kalvin was right.

The incident at the Mystol’s store had made her terribly concerned. Lynol let her breath out slowly, knowing that soon she would find out just how well she had grown in her sorcery. She feared that, with the arrival of the traders, their time had finally run out.

“Will she send Gilmreth?” Dresdia asked, worriedly, with a trace of fear flashing across her eyes. She’d been having nightmares of the dragon for several years now. There were many nights she woke up shivering from her dreams. Some nights she scarcely slept at all. She was worried because they lived so close to the mountain; so close to Gilmreth’s lair!

“I don’t know,” answered Lynol, knowing how frightened of the dragon Dresdia was. “Let’s not worry about that now. We packed a picnic lunch, and I’m sure Kalvin is starving. Let’s just enjoy the afternoon.”

Nodding, Dresdia reached into the picnic basket Lynol and she had packed earlier. Dresdia removed the chicken, rolls, and fresh apple pie, placing them enticingly on the blanket. Dresdia noticed, with a silent smile, how Kalvin’s eyes lit up when he saw Lynol’s apple pie.

She was glad that her brother and Lynol were so close. If only the situation was different so they could live a normal life together. As it was, they both held back knowing that much still lay ahead for Lynol. She knew how hard it had been on Kalvin and Lynol not to be able to open up completely with their feelings.

Dresdia too had held back. She didn’t feel it was right for her to have a serious relationship when the two people most important to her couldn’t. Tarn still came over on a regular basis, but Dresdia worried that, at some point in time, he might lose interest. She really liked Tarn. Perhaps someday they could have a serious relationship, but that day had not yet arrived.

Dresdia and Kalvin had discussed numerous times the frightful prophecy they’d found on the wall of the sacrificial altar and what it meant for Lynol. Ahead lay a path shrouded in darkness with only a dim, obscure light at the end. Very soon, Lynol would have to journey down that path seeking the light, a path with numerous hidden pitfalls that even Lynol and her potent sorcery might not be able to traverse safely. A journey she would have to travel alone. There would be nothing that Dresdia or Kalvin could do to help or protect her. Dresdia so feared for Lynol’s safety. She knew that Kalvin shared that same fear, but refused to show it.

“That chicken looks great!” said Kalvin, grinning broadly and running his tongue over his lips, causing both girls to laugh and breaking the seriousness of their thoughts. The girls were wonderful cooks and Kalvin couldn’t wait to bite into the chicken, plus the apple pie he’d spotted setting there enticingly.

“You’re always hungry!” exclaimed Dresdia, reaching over to punch Kalvin playfully on the arm. “It’s a good thing Lynol and I cooked a lot or we would both starve around you!”

Lynol sat back up, her gaze moving to the tranquil pond waters that stretched out from the nearest shore to the far side. She hugged her arms to her chest and shivered, and not just from the slight chill in the air caused by the gentle breeze. She wondered if she’d ever have the opportunity to swim in the pond’s crystal clear water with her friends again.

Lynol should have been happy, yet she felt as if the hand of doom weighed heavily upon her. She was afraid of what the next year held. There was no doubt in Lynol’s mind that after what had transpired in Galvin she would soon have to face Jalene, Gilmreth, and perhaps Adam Grayson if he was real. According to Malcon, her training was nearly complete.

She had mastered all the spells that Malcon’s simulacrum knew, plus many more from the storehouse of books in the crypt and her mother’s diary. Malcon had told her only yesterday that her abilities already far surpassed even his own when his true self was alive. He suspected it was because Lynol’s mother had been from the first generation of sorcerers. This had surprised her profoundly. It seemed like only yesterday she’d been coaxing squirrels and small birds to come up and eat out of her outstretched fingers.

A gentle hand on her shoulder brought her attention back to her friends. Kalvin squeezed gently with a knowing look on his face. Recently she had found it very difficult to keep secrets from him; he could always tell when she was hiding something or was worried.

“Let’s eat!” he said, rubbing his flat, well-muscled stomach with his other hand. “I’m going to starve and fade away to nothing!”

“I doubt that,” replied Dresdia, laughing, tossing a bread roll at Kalvin’s head. With a quick grab, Kalvin caught the roll just before it struck him.

Giggling, the girls dished out the food, and the three sat back, enjoying the meal. Kalvin finished off the meal with two large helpings of Lynol’s apple pie. After eating, they lay back on the blanket relaxing and enjoying the quiet afternoon. Only the gentle droning sound of insects and the light wind rustling the leaves in the trees disturbed the serene, blissful silence.

It was almost like the calm before a storm, Lynol thought, feeling more at ease and relaxed than she had in a long while. She sensed an inclement storm brewing, growing rapidly nearer, and she knew it had nothing to do with the weather.

Moving closer to Kalvin, she laid her head upon his chest and felt his arms move around her, holding her close. She felt Kalvin move his hand to her head and begin gently to stroke her hair. She could hear his heart beating steadily in his chest. He held her protectively; his strong, comforting arms making her feel secure and safe. She closed her eyes, enjoying the closeness. For a few brief few moments, she allowed her fears and worries to vanish. Moments like this had been few and very far between. She basked in their closeness with no thought of the passage of time.

Watching, Dresdia smiled. They were made for each other. Kalvin’s strength and common sense, balanced by Lynol’s inner fire and wisdom, would make them a hard couple to beat if only given the chance. Lying down on the blanket next to her brother and best friend, Dresdia closed her eyes and listened contentedly to the gentle rustling of the leaves in the light afternoon breeze. The three shared a bond that nothing could threaten or ever break.

Chapter Fifteen

A cold, foreboding wind blew blusteringly across the massive white stones of Jalene’s temple, as if forewarning of impending peril. Jalene stood from its lofty heights, her eyes slits of icy black surveying the sprawling city she'd built over the last few years. As far as she could see new buildings dotted the landscape, none as imposing as the temple, but all tributes to the architects that had slaved to construct her dream. Her center of power was nearly complete. Everything in sight she ruled with iron control. The fears from her childhood finally vanquished. There was no one to threaten her or her domain. The city was hers! The world was hers!

“Quite a sight isn’t it?” a strong, masculine voice spoke unexpectedly from behind her.

Annoyed, Jalene turned, seeing Storn Daes standing almost at her side, his arms folded nonchalantly across his chest, his blue eyes unwaveringly focused upon her. As usual, his dark face was covered in its ever-unchanging emotionless stare. He was dressed in black with a short red cape on his shoulders, the insignia of the temple upon his chest.

“The city is complete, Storn,” Jalene stated in a cold, callous voice, her frigid gaze returning to the city, sweeping over the outer environs of Draydon, which were visible in the late afternoon sunlight. Everything had been completed far ahead of schedule. Jalene wasn’t sure how Storn had managed this feat, but it had been accomplished. While she still had occasional doubts about Storn’s trustworthiness, he had never done anything to cause her serious concern. He had an uncanny ability to complete any task assigned to him.

In the city streets, myriads of people could be seen hurrying about their assigned tasks. Interspersed amongst them were the black uniforms of temple guards ensuring order was kept. No one in the bustling city was allowed to blaspheme the temple. Harsh words toward Jalene could easily result in an individual becoming a central part of the sacrifice at the monthly dragon ritual.

Storn Daes had his temple guards everywhere. Red robed priests prowled the streets, searching out malcontents, as well as qualified candidates for the next sacrifice. He kept abreast of rumors in the city for any sign of growing discontent which could threaten Jalene’s rule. Through his use of the temple guards and the priests, the people feared Storn as much as Jalene and the dragon!

Already, temple doctrine, the worship of the dragon and Lady Jalene, was being implanted in the minds of the people. Jalene and Gilmreth would become the new religion, the new order. In time, no one would remember it ever being any other way. People came to the temple square daily to hear the priests talk. Each of the nearly two hundred thousand people that lived in Draydon was required twice per month to come to the temple square and listen to the priests. Even in the outlying villages that produced food for the city, the priests spread the doctrine. Gilmreth and Lady Jalene would be the center of everyone’s lives.

“All people from the known outlying settlements have been brought into Draydon,” Storn reported, his gaze briefly contemptuous. “There may still be a few isolated villages and farms we've missed, but not many. I have temple guards making routine sweeps of the far outlying districts searching for any stragglers.”

Jalene’s icy gaze returned to Storn, barely missing the contemptuous look, which vanished instantly as his face returned quickly to its normal, emotionless state.

Storn had his own secretive ambitious plans, which would soon be set into motion. They would be unstoppable! It would be the end of years of careful planning and manipulation. At that time, Jalene would learn who the actual true ruler of Draydon was!

Everyone in Draydon knew who Storn was. His temple guards were completely obedient to his commands. His power over the city had grown proportionally over the years as he stayed just inside of Jalene’s shadow. Storn doubted that even Jalene knew just how powerful he was in the eyes of the common people of Draydon. While Jalene hid behind her sorcery and Gilmreth, he was the one who enforced the laws and temple doctrine. It was his guards that punished offenders when he felt transgressions warranted such. The people had grown to fear Storn as much if not more than Jalene. She rarely left her apartments or the temple, while Storn was seen throughout the city daily.

Jalene looked at her High Priest guardedly. Storn was becoming too powerful, and the temple guards were filled with people of his choosing. She was becoming more aware of that each day. It was nearing time for her to dispose of Storn before his lofty aspirations turned toward the possibility of attempting to replace her.

Nearly unlimited power such as Storn controlled could easily become too tempting. Only her command of sorcery made her feel secure against him; the power he commanded was nothing compared to hers. She’d tolerated Storn over the years because he was a man who got things done. He would do whatever was necessary and wouldn’t hesitate to use force if needed.

The sprawling new city of Draydon bore mute testimony to that ability. The people dared not bring Storn’s wrath down on them lest he release the temple guards upon those who opposed him. She had needed a ruthless individual like Storn to complete her city. The task she’d set for him had taken Herculean efforts to complete. She still found it amazing that so much had been accomplished in such a short amount of time.

In the back of her mind, she wondered how all the massive construction had been completed so quickly. Storn had done the impossible! In some ways, she would miss Storn when he was gone. She gazed out over the city. Its gleaming white buildings, sprawling parks, wide streets, and the great temple filled her with a deep sense of satisfaction. A man as powerful as Storn was no longer needed. She would shortly replace him with someone much more controllable.

“What is the latest word from Galvin? Is it true that the Sylvars still live? What have our traders learned?” Jalene demanded, wrapping her heavy black cloak around her, shivering slightly in the brisk, chill wind. She wished she had the power to change the weather permanently so it would stay warm all of the time. She absolutely hated the cold!

Storn paused before answering. The fact that descendants of the Sylvars still lived had shaken him considerably. After all these years he’d thought the family would have died out. At least the bloodline had been diluted enough to prevent sorcery from being prevalent. The tantalizing thought of revenge lurked temptingly at the back of his cold, calculating mind. The Sylvars owed him so much.

“Yes, they still live,” replied Storn carefully in a neutral voice. “Dalden Sikes went with one of the trade groups to Galvin and reported that two Sylvars still live on a farm between Galvin and Firestorm Mountain, a father and his young daughter. They are the last of their family line. The father’s name is Damon, the daughter’s Lynol. The father is highly respected by most of the citizens in their small community. The daughter pretty well stays to herself out on their farm.”

Storn allowed his unwavering gaze to turn toward the distant waiting mountain and the sleeping dragon it protected. The mountain summits were already covered in deep snow. Soon, even the lower passes would become nearly impassable.

“However, we have found one individual that despises the Sylvars. He operates a small trading store in the village. The man has been more than willing to furnish us with all the information we need; amazing how a few gold coins can loosen a man’s tongue.”

“I wonder if the daughter is still a virgin,” Jalene spoke, her face taking on an evil glow, intrigued at the thought. “A virgin Sylvar would be a prime candidate for the dragon sacrifice. It would be the ultimate sacrifice to our temple and Gilmreth.”

The mind link with Gilmreth at such a sacrifice would be unbelievably orgasmic. Jalene swayed slightly on her feet at just the thought. If she could sacrifice a virgin Sylvar girl to the dragon, it might cement her control of the dragon permanently!

“Perhaps,” Storn replied tonelessly, carefully forcing all traces of emotion from his voice. “After all, Galvin is a small village. The possibility is there. In these small farm communities, the girls seem to save themselves for marriage. She may indeed be a prime candidate for the sacrifice.”

“Could you imagine sacrificing the last female Sylvar to the dragon? What sweet revenge it would be for Malcon putting Gilmreth to sleep so many years ago!” Jalene continued with her eyes wide at the thought, feeling the hot tantalizing rush of blood in her veins.

Over the years, her mind link with the dragon had become stronger, almost addictive. Her link with Gilmreth during the ritual sacrifices had become a driving obsession.

“She would have to be brought here,” Storn replied.

He had long recognized Jalene’s addiction to the mind link with the dragon. It was another sign of her overall weakness, another example of her unfitness to rule Draydon. “Our temple guards could go to her home, seize her, and return the girl to us. It wouldn’t be much of a problem to accomplish.”

“The last Sylvar,” Jalene breathed, her pulse quickening at the thought, making her forget the afternoon cold. The sheer ecstasy of the mind link with Gilmreth at such a feast hovered tantalizingly on her thoughts.

“Yes,” Storn replied. “According to Sikes, she is the last.”

“It would call for a celebration far beyond anything we have done so far,” spoke Jalene, imagining what all would be needed. “The temple priests could indoctrinate it into our dragon lore; how Gilmreth finally found revenge on the family that imprisoned him. It would further strengthen our control of the people. It would demonstrate my power and dominance over the dragon!”

Storn nodded, his own thoughts running parallel to Jalene’s. Yes, it would be interesting indeed to sacrifice the last of the Sylvars to Gilmreth. It would greatly increase the fear of the dragon in the populace, making them even easier to manipulate and control. The father would have to be killed, of course. From what Storn understood he was an older man anyway, but the daughter was supposed to be quite beautiful.

Idly, Storn wondered if there was someway to take the daughter for his own use. It would mean he would have to move against Jalene much earlier than he’d originally planned. Revenge against the Sylvars would taste so sweet. Just the thought of having the daughter under his control was extremely appealing.

“Our spies have reported the area around Galvin to be quite fertile; unusually so,” Storn went on, reporting what he’d heard from his carefully chosen handpicked men. “Galvin’s farmland is providing bountiful harvests and its livestock is extremely healthy. It would be well worth our time and effort to send in some temple guards to seize the village and the surrounding area. The extra food we could harvest from the area alone would be an added bonus. They could bring in the Sylvar woman at the same time.”

“There is absolutely no sign of sorcery?” Jalene asked, concerned and feeling slightly uneasy, remembering the legendary stories of Malcon Sylvar.

She wondered why the land on that side of the mountain was so fertile. It sounded like sorcery was involved. She knew what it took to clear the land of the old Worldfire poison. She’d cleared much of it around Draydon so the farmers could feed the growing population of her city. There’d been no reports of sorcery since the time of Malcon Sylvar.

The information she had gleaned from her studies had been plain enough. Sorcery had disappeared with Malcon Sylvar. Even the legendary Sylvar family itself had never produced another sorcerer since Malcon’s time. No; she was the only sorceress. Jalene knew there was no one to challenge her power. Perhaps the land was fertile from Malcon’s doing so many years ago.

“None,” Storn replied. This was something that Sikes had been instructed to check into very thoroughly. “We interrogated several villagers. There are no rumors of sorcery at all. The Sylvars are just simple farmers. They tell old stories about their past and what Malcon did to Gilmreth, but there is no sorcery. They just have old memories of legends and past deeds from that time. The temple guards will have no problem subduing them.”

“I have a better idea,” Jalene replied craftily, wanting to ensure that there were no hidden surprises. “I shall send Gilmreth first!”

Since most of the people on Draydon’s side of the mountain had been coerced into moving into the city, the dragon hadn’t been allowed to destroy an entire village in over a year. The sheer enjoyment she received as the dragon pillaged and destroyed was utterly thrilling and satisfying. She didn’t want to miss this golden opportunity.

“He can destroy a few homes, frighten the villagers, and soften them up for the guards,” Jalene spoke in a firm voice. “After a night of Gilmreth, they will quickly see the wisdom of serving the temple. It should also make it easier for our temple guards when they demand the Sylvars be handed over. They wouldn’t dare resist or consider refusing lest the dragon return!”

Gilmreth, Storn thought uneasily. The dragon had repeatedly refused to fly over the villages on Galvin’s side of the mountain. It obviously feared greatly some obscure threat. Storn suspected it was some memory of a past occurrence that had seriously harmed the powerful dragon. Was the dragon actually intelligent enough to remember how the Sylvars had inflicted pain upon it so many years ago, how Malcon had been responsible for placing Gilmreth into that age’s old deep sleep?

Storn wondered just how much control Jalene actually held over the dragon. Was it using Jalene for its own sinister purposes? Sometimes, at the dragon sacrifices, Storn wondered with great concern whether Gilmreth was really under Jalene’s power. Storn knew there was only one way to find out. The dragon needed to be put to the test! This might be a convenient way to see just how much control Jalene had over it.

“Very well, call the dragon tonight,” Storn said, his eyes turning dark, meeting Jalene’s. “Order the dragon to attack Galvin, but only enough to put the fear of death into them. I will send the guards tomorrow to pick up the pieces. We need to move quickly before the cold weather closes the passes for the winter or it will be late next spring before we can move against them.”

Jalene stared hard at Storn, sometimes the priest made her feel very uneasy. She suspected that Storn was hiding something. There was something secretive about his past that Jalene hadn’t been able to discover. He seemed like a piece of ice floating in the water, with only a part of the whole ever showing in the light. Much was hidden in heartless darkness.

She had tried to read the surface thoughts of his mind in the past, but had found a strange resistance. Some natural barrier surrounded his mind that prevented access. The only person she had ever encountered that her powers couldn’t penetrate. With the Stone of Loraine, there was no doubt she could penetrate that barrier if she ever felt the need was desperate enough. So far, Storn had done nothing against Jalene’s expressed wishes, but he did bear watching.

Perhaps when this Sylvar woman was sacrificed, it would be Storn’s time also. Several other priests could fill his shoes. Baelen would suffice if necessary. The blond priest was completely obedient and utterly afraid of Jalene and the dragon. He was so patronizing to her that he would be very easy to control.

“I’ll call Gilmreth tonight,” Jalene responded, her voice low, picturing the dragon asleep in his lair. “I will use the Stone of Loraine to force the dragon to attack Galvin. Not even Gilmreth can resist the full power of the stone. Perhaps the dragon does remember the Sylvars and what they did to him long ago. Just the promise of revenge may be all that’s needed to induce the dragon to attack the village.”

“Very well, Milady,” replied Storn, wanting to see how this turned out. Jalene would be forcing the dragon to do something that it hadn’t been willing to do. If it obeyed Jalene then the Stone of Loraine in the proper hands could indeed be used to control the dragon.

Storn looked out over the city, which he had forced the people to build. He felt uneasy about what they were preparing to do. Some deep inner feeling, some primeval instinct, seemed to be saying there was an unknown danger lurking on the far side of Firestorm Mountain. Gilmreth was right in not wanting to go there. But what could it be? His handpicked men had reported that there was no reported evidence of sorcery since the time of Malcon Sylvar. That was nearly a thousand years ago. Sorcery had died out except for Jalene, what could the danger be?

Putting the thought out of his mind, Storn turned and left Jalene, returning to the temple depths. He wanted to be present when Gilmreth arrived later. He particularly wanted to see the dragon’s reaction to Jalene’s commands about Galvin. He also needed to prepare some of his temple guards and a priest for their incursion to the Galvin area if Gilmreth did indeed follow Jalene’s commands. Still, in the back of his mind, he felt uneasy. Something just wasn’t right. He had learned long ago to trust his instincts. He would watch everything carefully just in case.

Jalene watched Storn vanish down the steps. “Yes Storn,” she said quietly, her piercing gaze watching the stairwell that Storn had descended. “I think it’s nearing time for us to part company.” Turning toward distant Firestorm Mountain Jalene could sense Gilmreth’s growing hunger reaching out toward her. “Soon Gilmreth,” she murmured momentarily, forgetting the chill. “Tonight you will feed again!”

-

Later that night, as the quarter moon slowly rose in the east casting its weak reflected light upon the snow-capped peaks of Firestorm Mountain, Gilmreth began to stir languidly beneath. Raising his head, the dragon’s yellowish red eyes snapped open, peering into the gloom. Gilmreth sensed the summons to the temple. To feast again, to feed his growing, ravenous appetite drove the dragon to rise. On powerful wings Gilmreth flew down the dark tunnel, launching himself into the frigid night air of the mountain.

Jalene stood atop the temple, her arms spread, and the scepter containing the Stone of Loraine in her right hand glowing brightly. Its red radiance cascading over the top of the temple seemed to pulse like the beating of a mighty heart. She wore a long black skirt that accented the sensuous curves of her body as she waited expectantly. She swayed slightly as she sensed Gilmreth rise. She could feel, almost taste, the dragon’s burning hunger.

Storn and four of his top priests stood behind Jalene watching and waiting. The priests behind Storn nervously scanned the night sky for any sign of the fearsome dragon. Baelen stood with the priests shuffling his feet nervously, looking up into the darkness. Anytime the dragon neared, Baelen felt apprehensive. It frightened him! The sacrifices were his responsibility and tonight he had brought no one!

The priests with him had seen too many of their compatriots fed to the dragon after suffering Storn’s wrath or displeasure. Looking about, they saw no sacrifice and wondered glumly if they were the chosen for tonight’s unscheduled appearance of the dragon. Baelen stood silently, not giving the other priests a second’s notice or explanation.

Storn, watching Jalene, smiled ominously as she summoned the dragon with the Stone of Loraine. He was aware of the nervous shuffling of the priests behind him, and one penetrating glare froze them in place. Baelen’s pale eyes went to the stone surface beneath him, unwilling to meet Storn’s withering gaze.

Turning back to the Stone of Loraine, Storn marveled at how the perfect, egg sized ruby crystal glowed with power, spreading its fiery incandescence over everything. He could sense the growing power contained in the heart of the crystal, the power of sorcerers long since gone and turned to dust. The continued strengthening of its crystalline structure after ages of quiescent recovery was very evident. Each time Jalene used the crystal it became stronger, returning ever closer to its former power and glory. Soon the crystal would be at its strongest, completely recovered and tuned to this new day and age. Then it would be ready to return to its rightful owner!

A sudden flash of red dragon fire flamed the ebony black sky above, signaling the arrival of Gilmreth. A gargantuan, bestial roar split the night above the now quiet city. People around the city looked toward the temple as they recognized Gilmreth’s inhuman roar and the sign of dragon fire up in the night sky. Many wondered what was going on.

The priests behind Storn huddled together, not sure what to expect. Baelen glanced with concern at Jalene, hoping she controlled the descending dragon. Shivering in the cold evening breeze, fearing their end was soon to be upon them, the other three priests warily watched the approaching dragon.

Let them suffer, Storn thought; a little humility would be good for the spineless fools. Only the head of his temple guard had demonstrated the fearlessness to face the dragon unafraid. In addition, Anton Par was totally under Storn’s control.

A sudden beating of wings and cold air swirled atop the temple as Gilmreth alighted effortlessly in the center of the temple platform. The dragon’s head stared questioningly down toward Jalene, his yellowish red eyes seeming to glow in the dim, flickering torch light.

“To Galvin, Gilmreth,” Jalene commanded sharply, using the Stone of Loraine to reinforce her words.

A nebulous red glow immediately surrounded the dragon’s head as she formed a picture in his mind of what she wanted him to do. She used the stone and her abilities to form a mind link with the dragon. “Go to Galvin and destroy a small part of the village; only a small part. You may feed upon no more than this many villagers,” commanded Jalene, holding up four fingers on her left hand, planting in Gilmreth’s mind exactly what she wanted the dragon to do. “Go, and as a reward you will soon feed upon the blood of your most ancient enemy.” The red glow from the scepter continued to play over the dragon, growing brighter and brighter.

Gilmreth swung his head ponderously around the temple platform, ignoring Jalene and the intrusion into his mind, looking over the flat surface of the temple and studying the few humans on it. There was no waiting sacrifice to feed upon at his feet. The manacles lay empty upon the cold, white stone. A slow anger began to burn in the dragon’s ruthless heart. There was always a sacrifice. Gilmreth looked over at the huddled priests, wondering if they were the sacrifices for tonight. They would be pitiful feedings at best. He could sense what Jalene wanted, but Gilmreth wanted to feed now!

Jalene raised her scepter higher, a more powerful, fluctuating nebulous red glow spread across the white stones illuminating the temple platform in an eerie blood red light. It seemed to pulse around Gilmreth, keeping time with his evil, monstrous heart.

Gilmreth felt the increasing pressure from the glowing stone upon his mind, encouraging him toward Galvin, discouraging him from feeding. Gilmreth could sense a promise from the one who held the glowing stone, of a feeding in the future the likes of which he had never experienced.

Gilmreth hesitated. He could still remember intense, agonizing pain from two dangerous humans who once lived near that village. He’d avoided that side of the mountain because of that memory. The feedings on this side of the mountain had been easy and very fulfilling; it hadn’t been necessary to feed on the far side. Uneasily, the dragon turned his gaze unwaveringly toward the human female holding the glowing stone.

Jalene’s mind link with Gilmreth became awash in energy as she tried to impress her will upon the dragon. She could sense the dragon’s confusion and resistance.

“Go to Galvin, Gilmreth,” Jalene commanded, concentrating with all her might upon the Stone of Loraine.

The Stone of Loraine responded, its bright red glow increasing, almost blinding Storn and the priests behind him. The entire temple platform became encompassed in the radiant red light that pulsed from the powerful stone.

Gilmreth felt a sudden wrenching and excruciating pain in his head, commanding him toward the far off village. With a roar of pain and burning anger the dragon took flight, his muscles rippling as powerful wings beat against the night air. Dragon flame seared the chill from the night as the dragon rose. He circled the temple once before turning toward Firestorm Mountain.

Fleeing the burning pain, Gilmreth flew toward Firestorm Mountain and Galvin. The pain gradually lessened as Gilmreth flew toward the distant village and away from the temple. He wouldn’t forget the pain nor who had inflicted it upon him.

Jalene watched triumphantly as the dragon swiftly vanished into the night. Once in Galvin, the pain would subside and the dragon would attack the village. She felt satisfied that she did indeed control the dragon. The power of the Stone of Loraine was irresistible. He would do whatever she ordered so as not to experience that type of blinding pain again. She would keep a light mind link with the dragon to ensure he did as she’d commanded.

Turning, she stared triumphantly at Storn Daes and his four priests. “The dragon has gone to Galvin. Not even Gilmreth can resist my power. Ready the temple guards to leave early in the morning and remember; I want the Sylvars returned to me alive!”

“As you command, Milady,” Storn replied with a slight bow.

He and the other priests turned and left the top of the temple platform, leaving Jalene alone. Storn was still not sure if his question about Jalene’s control over Gilmreth had been answered. Only time would tell.

-

Into the night, Gilmreth flew, his huge wingspan driving the dragon rapidly toward distant Galvin. The dragon’s massive muscles moved his wings rhythmically with minimal effort as he flew on. As time passed, the intense pain began to lessen. Gilmreth flew low over Firestorm Mountain, his long glide interrupted by quick beats of his wings to give him lifts over projections, and twists and turns of wings and body to avoid towering rock formations.

Soon Gilmreth flew past the entrance to his lair and finally over the lower slopes of the mountain itself. Eventually, the lights of Galvin became visible in the distance, lamps burning in windows and upon the streets, dimly lighting the peaceful sleeping village. Suddenly the pain in Gilmreth’s mind vanished as he made the first pass over the unsuspecting village.

The hunger inside Gilmreth grew as the desire to destroy and feed came upon him even more strongly now that the pain was gone. With an angry snarl, Gilmreth terminated the mind-link with Jalene. It was a trick the dragon had learned from ages past, and the distance from the Stone of Loraine allowed him to do it. He looked down upon the village, his hunger growing. It was time to feed!

Dimly, Gilmreth remembered feeding upon this village in the remote past. He remembered the pain he’d suffered at the hands of a pair of very powerful humans. Hesitating, the dragon turned and flew toward the spot where he had suffered that pain, wanting to know if there were any humans there who could still harm him!

Over the fertile Sylvar farm the dragon flew, his yellowish red eyes scanning the dark ground below. He could easily see in the dark, the blackness holding no secrets from Gilmreth’s prying searching gaze. He looked warily over the landscape for any potential sign of lurking danger. Down below, he spotted a large, rambling farmhouse.

In her room, Lynol’s eyes flew open as she awoke suddenly from a dreamless sleep. A cold foreboding swept over her, and she shivered violently. Her room seemed to drop to freezing in an instant as if a great danger was present. She cast her mind out, searching for whatever had awakened her, and then she sensed the dragon.

“Gilmreth!” she cried with dawning realization, throwing the blankets back. Grabbing her clothes, she quickly began putting them on. “Father!” she yelled frantically at the top of her voice. “Gilmreth’s here! Wake up! We need to get to safety! We must get to the crypt!”

At any moment, she expected to see deadly dragon fire flash down from the heavens, incinerating them and their home in one fiery heartless blast. The dragon had finally come to their side of the mountain. It was what she had feared for so long. The traders from Draydon had come and now so had the dragon. Lynol felt her heart beating wildly. This was the last thing she had expected when she went to bed.

In the sky above, Gilmreth stared down at the jumbled stones where he’d fought his attackers, first one human female, whom he had defeated and taken back to his lair; that feeding had been the strongest ever. But the second human he hadn’t been able to destroy and the pain had been tremendous from the lightning blasts that powerful human had hurled at him. Later, that same human came to Gilmreth’s lair. In his primitive mind, he knew that human had been responsible for his long, captive sleep. Gilmreth banked his wings, circling the ruins in a slow glide looking for any signs of life, his eyes finally focusing on the large farmhouse off to one side of the ancient ruins.

Lynol and her father rushed outside into the chill night air, looking worriedly upward. She fought down growing panic, a hollow feeling of fear as she gazed up, and up, and up. A dim shape blotting out the stars could be seen high in the night sky slowly descending, circling the farmhouse.

Grasping her amulet, Lynol stopped in her tracks just outside the entrance to the crypt. Gilmreth was here; where better to face the dragon! This was her center of power, her home! Fleeing to the crypt would only postpone the inevitable and endanger countless lives if Gilmreth wasn’t stopped. Her training was nearly complete, and she could think of no legitimate reason to delay this confrontation.

For a moment, a stab of anger against fate made her clench her teeth. She would make her stand against Gilmreth here and now! She would test her powers of sorcery against the age and strength of the deadly dragon. It was time for her to face the evil abomination that had killed Lys and caused Malcon’s death.

Determinedly, Lynol stared upward. She could always escape into the safety of the crypt if necessary. But that would mean she had failed! That Gilmreth was too strong and all her long years of studying wasted. Lynol knew with a sudden dawning realization that her time had finally come. With growing resolve, she knew what she had to do.

“Lynol, the crypt!” her father yelled, coming to a sudden, confused stop at the stone looking back at his daughter. “We must go inside!”

Damon looked frantically upward at the descending dragon. The creature was huge. It was all the legends he had ever heard or told come to life, and it was descending toward them!

Looking at the waiting Sylvar Stone, Lynol concentrated briefly and the doorway appeared. “Go father; go inside! I must face Gilmreth; tell Malcon that Gilmreth is here!” Lynol spoke with growing determination.

Turning, Lynol looked back up into the black night sky. A blue glow quickly building, surrounding her in a spectral radiance as her crystal amulet grew warm in her left hand. This was the beginning of her destiny, the fulfillment of the prophecies. What she had studied and trained so hard for. What her mother had set her to do; why she had left her amulet for Lynol.

Lynol felt her heart slow to a steady beat, and she took in several deep, controlled breaths, willing herself to calm down. She looked off into the distance where she knew the Gor farm was, knowing if she failed Kalvin and Dresdia could be in deadly danger from the dragon. She couldn’t fail!

Damon stood at the entrance, unsure of what he should do, fearful for Lynol’s safety. “Lynol, you would be safe in the crypt!” he cried desperately, concern for his only daughter edging into his voice. “You don’t have to face Gilmreth yet. Now is not the time!”

“Gilmreth must be stopped before he does any more killing; the sacrifices must come to an end!” Lynol replied firmly, glancing at her father as the wind began to pick up from the spell she was weaving. “Get inside the crypt, Father, so I won’t have to worry about your safety!” Lynol turned her gaze upward toward the slowly descending dragon.

Up above, Gilmreth noticed the two humans. His urge to attack and feed rose as he sensed the pureness and tremendous power in the smaller one. Nevertheless, he hesitated. This was the place of tremendous pain from his past. Gilmreth saw a blue glow suddenly surround the smaller human and the air temperature quickly dropped, chilling the dragon as the air grew frigid. Huge, threatening clouds came into being, rapidly covering the partial moon and the myriad of shining night stars. For a moment, Gilmreth remembered a past time when another human had stood in a tower at this very spot and what had transpired then.

Under Lynol’s command a huge storm quickly formed, and jagged sheets of lightning ripped the night sky apart. With her sorcery skills, she had absolute control of the weather. Thunder echoed across the darkened meadows as it walked toward the dragon. A heavy, cold rain began to fall, battering the ground, turning the dry surface quickly to mud. Lightning flared nearby, the immediate clap of thunder drowning out Damon’s pleading voice calling to her from the entrance of the crypt. Storms and lightning were spells she controlled extremely well according to Malcon! The power her crystal generated in a storm was truly breathtaking; like nothing ever seen before!

“Now, Gilmreth, we shall see,” murmured Lynol, readying herself, watching the dragon warily with her eyes.

It was time to find out how much she’d learned. This would be her christening, her coming into her own as a Sylvar sorceress, her true test of fire! Lys had failed to conquer the dragon a thousand years ago from this exact spot; now it was Lynol’s turn. She was a Sylvar, and this was her heritage!

Concentrating deeply upon the storm, a huge bolt of blue-white lightning reached out and tapped the dragon on his back with a thunderous explosive crack. Lynol felt her amulet throb and grow very warm. The bolt drove Gilmreth nearly to the ground, bathing the dragon in the blue-white afterglow from the fearsome bolt.

With a painful scream of rage, Gilmreth rose back into the night sky, only to be struck again and again by massive bolts of lightning. The ground itself seemed to shudder from the intensity of the blasts of blue-white light, which sprang from the clouds. Once more and then again the world turned into an intolerable glare as massive bolts of blue-white lightning detonated against Gilmreth, battering him high up in the storm tossed night sky. The thunder seemed to roar continuously. Lynol felt as if she was part of the storm, the lightning bolts extensions of her own arms and fingers.

In anger, Gilmreth dove down toward his attacker, breathing dragon flame in a massive jet of red at the human below. Gilmreth knew the deadly flame would incinerate his tormentor, or at the very least distract the human. This would allow Gilmreth to wrap his deadly talons around this dangerous human and put a quick end to this confrontation. Then Gilmreth would feed!

Lynol saw the dragon’s deadly flame reaching toward her and wove a quick spell that caused the flame to be deflected harmlessly back up into the night air. She could smell the acrid stench of dragon flame about her. She felt a weak wave of dizziness assail her. For a brief moment, she remembered how Lys had felt just before Gilmreth defeated her. Fortifying herself, she redoubled her efforts. She saw Gilmreth diving toward her, his talons outstretched!

She focused upon the storm, summoning its strength. She felt her mind reach out and become the storm, her breath became its wind, her hands once more its lightning. She reached out and tapped Gilmreth again with a huge, blue-white lightning bolt. Again and again in rapid succession she struck the dragon. The thunder roared and blasted through the night. Wind currents changed and blew at unheard of velocities for a few seconds one direction and then switching to another as Gilmreth was tossed about by the powerful fury of the storm. The noise from the thunder and wind reached an unbelievable crescendo, becoming nearly deafening.

Dragon flame scoured the air repeatedly as Gilmreth vented his rage. Never had the dragon met such resistance! He voiced his anger in a monstrous roar that competed with the rolling thunder. Two huge lightning bolts struck Gilmreth simultaneously, one upon his back and another on his left wing. For a moment, Gilmreth lost control and fell toward the ground in an uncontrolled plunge.

Gilmreth struck the hard ground with a loud crash and a roar of frustration and pain. Leaping back up into the air, the dragon struggled to rise as the wind tried to push him back down. Massive hailstones pummeled the dragon. In fury and in pain, Gilmreth turned and flew rapidly to the north, trying to escape his tormentor.

Never had Gilmreth experienced such pain in all of his long life. Lightning struck the dragon again, nearly driving him back down to the ground. With a scream of fury, Gilmreth flew on. Never again would he return to this place; a giver of pain still lived here! He would feed elsewhere. The human female at the temple would pay dearly for sending him to this side of the mountain. In Gilmreth’s mind, his days of obedience to that human had ended!

With surprise and elation, Lynol saw the dragon fly off disappearing into the darkness. The cold rain continued to fall in sheets around her, and the brisk, chill wind whipped her hair. Continuing to concentrate, Lynol caused the storm to abate, weaken, and completely disappear. She didn’t dare allow a storm of this magnitude to reach Galvin. It could do as much harm to the village as the dragon. In a few minutes, only a few small, fleeting showers remained.

Gilmreth fears me, Lynol realized, sensing the fleeing dragon’s frightened thoughts. She had succeeded in saving Galvin from the dragon’s deprivations and had used her powers to drive the dragon off! Perhaps he wasn’t as powerful as he’d been in Malcon’s time. She’d passed her christening of fire; faced Gilmreth and survived! She felt a sudden feeling of relief wash over her.

“Father, Gilmreth has left; come back out!” Lynol called, elated, turning toward the crypt.

Shivering, Damon got to his feet and wiped the cold, clinging mud off his face and hands. The ferocity of the storm had surprised him. He’d never made it completely into the safety of the crypt. The force of the wind and rain had driven him ruthlessly to the ground. Only now did he realize the awesome strength of his daughter’s sorcery. Never had he seen or felt a storm so powerful. It was almost frightening the power he had watched his daughter wield.

With an amazed look, he took a hesitant step toward his daughter. For the first time, he had hope in his eyes, hope that Lynol would survive what lay ahead of her. What she had just done not even Lys had been able to do: drive Gilmreth away! Only Malcon had been able to do that, and now Lynol had also managed to defeat the dragon!

“Has the dragon gone?” Damon asked, his eyes scanning the dark night skies above for any sign of Gilmreth.

“Yes, Father,” replied Lynol, sensing Gilmreth’s fading thoughts as he continued to fly away. “Gilmreth’s gone and I don’t think he’ll be coming back.” It was only then that Lynol realized she was dripping wet from the storm. Her clothes were soaked through and covered in mud.

Sodden and mud splattered, Lynol and her father made their way to the porch of their home. Her thoughts turned to Dresdia and Kalvin. They had to have been awakened by the powerful storm. They’d be full of a thousand questions, especially when they heard about Gilmreth. Wait until she told them what had transpired. Even the people in Galvin must have heard the thunder from the lightning bolts. To Lynol they had been nearly deafening. She knew there would be many questions.

Perhaps it was time to come out into the open. This was something she would have to discuss with her father and Malcon. Lynol knew that Jalene was responsible for sending the dragon. When the dragon returned to her, Lynol’s secret would probably be out. Jalene would know that there was another sorceress alive and well in the world!

-

Far into the night Gilmreth flew. He was angry at being forced to come to this side of the mountain to hunt. Below, more lights finally came into sight. With a cold fury, Gilmreth dove at the sleeping village of Handon’s Ferry, his flaming breath setting home after home afire. His rage totally out of control, Gilmreth vented his pain and anger upon the hapless village.

In moments, people began to stumble outside to look up into the night sky, trying to understand what was happening. Helpless and frightened, the people fled screaming and running for their lives into the night as the dragon swooped down and landed on the ground. Burning homes lit up the surrounding countryside, the rancid stench of dragon flame was spreading upon the wind. Reaching out with his talons, Gilmreth tore down the wall of a large home seeking a victim to feed his painful fury. An old woman lay huddled in her bed, the first of Gilmreth’s victims. Tonight Gilmreth would gorge himself. No one would escape his fury!

Mothers grabbed their children and fled the village, horrified fathers grabbed up tools and anything else that could be wielded as a weapon to defend their families from the rampaging dragon. Helplessly, men, women, and children died as the dragon plundered the village, laying it to waste. Gilmreth’s angry roar echoed across the land as fiery dragon fire burned the village.

Gilmreth fed greedily, feeding his growing wrath. His warped mind driven to destroy, to take revenge upon the helpless humans beneath him for the pain he had been forced to endure. Trying to quench the intense pain inflicted upon him by the lightning bolts and to satisfy his burning hunger in the only way he knew how. He killed and fed, then he killed and fed again, again, and again!

For long hours, Gilmreth wreaked havoc in the village. Finally, every home was destroyed or burning. The few surviving villagers fled into the countryside, hoping to escape the deadly dragon. A red glow burned in the night sky as Gilmreth used his fiery dragon flame to turn the remainder of the village into blackened ashes. A miniature firestorm appeared in the heart of the village as the rising temperature set everything burnable aflame. Everywhere there was fire, smoke, and ashes.

Leaping into the air with powerful beats of his wings, Gilmreth searched for and found a small group of scattered villagers that had managed to escape his wrath fleeing down a dark path toward the river. His loud roar of rage frightening the villagers, causing one to trip and fall.

Tohm Mystol looked up into the cold night air, out of breath and his heart hammering. In the distance, the fiery red glow of Handon’s Ferry cast an eerie light upon the nightmarish creature descending toward him. He felt dizzy as if the ground was sloping away too steeply, he had trouble getting his breath, and his vision blurred. He was looking at something he had never expected to see in his life.

The huge shape of a dragon from the ancient legends landed beside him, its huge weight shaking the ground. Looking up into its cruel yellowish red eyes, Tohm recognized his fate. Damon Sylvar had spoken the truth! Gilmreth was real and as fearsome and deadly as Damon had described in all of his stories. I’m sorry, Gwen, he thought, as the dragon’s massive wings folded around him. Gilmreth’s head lowered hungrily downward, mouth opening to reveal razor sharp teeth. The foul stench of the dragon’s breath caused Tohm to reel as the dragon’s deadly teeth came closer. The Sylvars and the Gors would help take care of his wife was his final thought. He closed his eyes as the dragon struck.

-

Lynol stood horrified feeling the breath rasping in her throat. The sky to the distant north was the color of fire; of death! She stood helplessly upon the porch of their home with her father holding her as she sobbed. Tears of rage and pain threatened to overwhelm Lynol as she realized that Tohm was dead! She’d sensed Gilmreth’s attack upon Handon’s Ferry, but the distance was so great there was nothing she could do. She had saved Galvin only to drive the fearsome dragon toward Handon’s Ferry instead! Now it was gone; destroyed by the dragon. Even worse, Tohm Mystol had been in the village. Lynol didn’t see how he could have survived the onslaught of the dragon.

“How can I ever face Gwen?” sobbed Lynol, feeling responsible for the tragedy. Her voice felt tight in her throat, and her heart was pounding. “If Tohm’s dead, it’s my fault!”

“If not Handon’s Ferry it would have been us or some other village. It’s not your fault, Lynol,” her father said, trying to comfort her.

The possible death of Tohm had also hit Damon hard. He’d known Tohm all his life. They’d been close friends since early childhood. He was finding it hard to accept that he was gone, killed by Gilmreth.

“If you have to blame someone, blame Jalene; she woke the dragon. She sent the dragon here, ordered it to attack, and she’s the one who caused the deaths!” Damon stated firmly, holding his daughter at arm’s length and looking deep into her light blue eyes. “Jalene is the cause of all this, Lynol; you must remember that!”

Damon pulled Lynol against his chest, holding his sobbing and shocked daughter. Finally, the sobbing stopped. She pulled away, sitting down on the porch and staring at Firestorm Mountain in the darkness. Damon sat down next to her, putting his arm protectively around her shoulders.

For a long while, Lynol and Damon sat on the porch of their home in silence. Lynol sat puzzling out what had happened and why. There was a sad, empty coldness clutching her heart at the night’s tragedy, a heavy sadness pressing against her very soul. Her victory against Gilmreth had been stolen from her. The tragedy of Handon’s Ferry threatened to overwhelm her. She couldn’t help but feel responsible. Tears flowed unchecked from Lynol’s eyes. It would be a long, sleepless night.

It was dawn when Lynol finally stood. The air was chill and moist from the rain, the sky a soft pink and gentle purple. The fertile meadows to the west were shrouded in early morning fog that turned a dim gold as the sun’s first rays touched them. Here and there a towering tree rose like an emerald island from the fog. It was as if the frightful events from the night before had never occurred. “I must speak to Malcon,” Lynol said softly to her father. “I will be in soon.”

Damon nodded, watching his daughter walk slowly down the path that led to the garden and the crypt. He knew she’d been through a lot this past night. After all, she was now a sorceress, tried and tested by fire. He also needed to think about how he was going to break the news about Tohm to Gwen. That was going to be very difficult!

Lynol walked slowly, determinedly, toward the ancient crypt, the still open doorway beckoning. She had much to speak to Malcon’s simulacrum about. The time had finally come for her to take her place as a Sylvar sorceress. It was time to do something about Jalene and Gilmreth. There would be no more innocent deaths! It was time to test the prophecy. Lynol was determined to accept her destiny. She reached the ancient Sylvar Stone and started down the steps. She knew it would be a long morning.

Chapter Sixteen

Jalene strode angrily back and forth in her quarters, upset by the previous night’s events. The smashed furnishings laying haphazardly about the room reflected her dark mood. It had been a long and frustrating night, spent mostly without sleep. Even now, she wondered what exactly had occurred.

When Gilmreth had been driven toward Galvin by the power of the Stone of Loraine she had followed the dragon, keeping a light mental touch on his mind, seeing through his eyes as the dragon swept low over Firestorm Mountain and then toward Galvin. She could remember the anticipation. The flushing orgasmic excitement of what she knew was soon to come.

However, as Gilmreth neared Galvin she lost her mental contact with the dragon as if the dragon or something unknown had erected an invisible wall sealing her off from the dragon’s mind. One moment she was seeing everything the dragon saw; the next absolutely nothing! Never before had she encountered such an obstacle from Gilmreth.

Was there some ancient danger from the far past that Gilmreth feared? What could possibly frighten the powerful dragon? Doubt filled her eyes as she pondered the consequences of the question. If it was Gilmreth that severed the mental link, then how much control did she actually have over the dragon? Was he just using her as she had been using him? These questions and others had been running through her mind for most of the night. Her continued control of Gilmreth ensured her dominion over Draydon. Without the dragon, she would have to rely on her own powers, and if the dragon wasn’t under her control, he could be a dangerous threat to all of her plans!

She finally sensed the dragon returning to his lair just before dawn. From the satiated glow which surrounded the dragon, it was obvious Gilmreth had disobeyed her. She felt cheated and unsatisfied, recognizing the bloated condition the dragon was in. He had fed on more than four victims; many more! Her anger flared out at the dragon like a raging flame. The Stone of Loraine glowed fiery red in its protective case, reacting to her sudden wrath, but Gilmreth continued toward his lair unaffected, seemingly immune to the power of the stone.

Jalene was unable to arouse Gilmreth as he quickly fell into a heavy, almost drug induced sleep, his mind a myriad of jumbled thoughts and twisted memories. Jalene could see a village in flames, and numerous victims falling to the voracious depredations of the rampaging dragon. Due to the earlier loss of her mind link with Gilmreth, she wasn’t sure what had happened!

Gilmreth must have destroyed Galvin completely. Jalene clenched her fists tightly in anger, her long fingernails drawing blood. She suspected when the temple guards arrived at the village all they would find would be a smoking ruin of blackened ashes and mutilated bodies drained of life, testimony to Gilmreth’s nearly uncontrollable appetite for destruction.

It was quickly becoming evident to Jalene that she had considerably less control of the dragon than she’d believed. What really frightened her was the possibility that she might not have any control of the dragon at all. She glanced with growing apprehension at the softly glowing Stone of Loraine. Could he actually resist the stone? Was he that powerful? The ancient dragon scroll stated quite specifically that Gilmreth was uncontrollable.

Going to a closed cabinet Jalene opened it, taking out the prized, ancient scroll. Taking a seat at the long table that held the protective case for the Stone of Loraine, she carefully read the ancient writing on the withered scroll, looking for some clue as to Gilmreth’s unexpected behavior. After reading it, Jalene stood and returned to her nervous pacing. She had much to think about. In the back of her mind, she knew she’d made a mistake in sending Gilmreth to Galvin. Because of it, she might have lost control of the dragon!

The Stone of Loraine was powerful, extremely powerful, but so was the dragon. Gilmreth could destroy everything she’d built in a single night if he went on a rampage. He could totally destroy Draydon with his dragon fire! She walked out onto the balcony, looking out over the city.

The sun was just rising over the distant mountain, casting its first bright rays of sunlight over the still sleeping city. In her mind, she pictured it in flames, with smoke and ashes blotting out the sun. People screaming in terror as the dragon killed and burned everything around it. She turned slightly and gazed at her temple, seeing it in ruins and the dead lying everywhere. What had she done? Shaking her head and closing her eyes, she rejected the fearful vision of the future. Turning, she walked back into the main room of her quarters.

She wondered worriedly what she should do. Perhaps another sacrifice was in order once the dragon was ready to feed again. She could show Gilmreth that it was best for him to obey her. Perhaps if she couldn’t control the dragon with the Stone of Loraine, the promise of continued sacrifices might entice the dragon to continue to do her bidding. She would have Storn and Baelen double the number of sacrifices for the next ritual.

A sudden whisper of sound alerted her to the presence of someone else in the room. She whirled, startled at the sound of quiet footsteps behind her. Jalene’s face was tight with frustration and anger, ready to lash out at whoever had dared to interrupt her deliberations.

Storn Daes stood in the doorway, his face showing nothing of his internal thoughts or emotions, glancing stone faced at the smashed ruins of the room.

“You summoned me, Milady?” he asked calmly, stepping into the spacious room and shutting the door firmly behind him.

“Have our men left for Galvin?” Jalene demanded, her voice still seething with emotion, her face livid with anger.

“They left at first light,” Storn replied, his dark blue eyes on Jalene, noticing quickly with inner satisfaction the turbulent emotional turmoil she was in. From the destruction of the room’s furnishings, she was obviously extremely upset. Something had evidently gone severely wrong with her plans. “They’re mounted on swift horses and should arrive in Galvin the day after tomorrow. They will have no trouble subduing the village. One of our temple priests is also with the guards to ensure that suitable women for the next dragon sacrifice are found. We don’t want the men despoiling potential young candidates. They’ve also been instructed in detail about the Sylvars.”

“They may find nothing when they get there!” snapped Jalene, glaring at the man and striding back to the center of the room, kicking a broken chair across the floor. She paused, staring moodily at the glass case, which held the now quiescent Stone of Loraine. How could Gilmreth throw off the control of the stone so easily?

“What do you mean?” Storn asked, his eyes narrowing fiercely. Hints of anger edging into his normally rock steady voice.

The village wasn’t supposed to have been destroyed! He thought he had made that perfectly clear to Jalene earlier. He had his own personal vendetta against the Sylvars. What had this fool of a woman done? She’d better not have endangered his own plans. Her unstable emotional state had always been a problem; a major weakness.

“What happened? Didn’t Gilmreth go to the village as ordered?” Storn demanded, his face turning dark slipping out of its concealing mask. He was getting tired of playing these ridiculous mind games with Jalene. Perhaps it was time for him to show her who was actually in charge of Draydon.

“Gilmreth destroyed the village,” replied Jalene, turning swiftly to face Storn, startled at the anger showing on his normally emotionless face. What was so important about Galvin to him? She’d wanted the Sylvars, but what had Storn wanted? Why did he look so angry? She felt suddenly uneasy looking at Storn.

“What do you mean Gilmreth destroyed the village? I thought you controlled the dragon!” Storn said harshly with a hint of anger in his voice. He focused his unwavering gaze steadfastly upon Jalene, looking deep into her dark eyes. “I thought we agreed you would limit Gilmreth’s feeding. That only a small part of the village would be harmed!”

“Don’t use that tone with me, Storn!” snapped Jalene, fixing him with an icy glare. How dare Storn talk to her like that! What had gotten into the man?

“Don’t threaten me!” Storn said darkly, his withering gaze meeting Jalene’s without fear. “I control the temple guards and the priests. You are nearly powerless without me. We rule Draydon together!”

“You ungrateful fool!” growled Jalene, preparing to cast a spell, her anger coming to a boil. “You will do as I say! I and I alone rule Draydon! My sorcery is supreme. Nothing and no one can stand against me, not even you! Do you really want to die here and now?”

She gazed at Storn, her eyes glowing in anger, ready to kill the man with just a thought. The Stone of Loraine could turn Storn into ashes in mere seconds. A bright red glow came from the stone as she tapped into its nearly limitless energy.

“Perhaps I spook too harshly,” Storn recanted in his calmer, more pacifying voice, thinking swiftly about his options. “I was just surprised when you said Gilmreth destroyed the village.” It might be best to wait until this situation with Gilmreth was settled before he laid all his cards on the table. “But you still haven’t told me why the dragon disobeyed you.”

Jalene eyes looked piercingly at Storn. His response was so much different than she’d expected. He seemed now to want to avoid a confrontation. She hesitated; she’d been about to use her sorcery to burn Storn to ashes where he stood, but he was right. He did control the temple guards and the priests. If she had indeed lost control of Gilmreth then she might still need Storn, at least for a while. She could gradually give Baelen more control until she was ready to remove Storn.

He was acting so strangely, showing no fear of her at all. Didn’t he realize just a thought from her at the Stone of Lorraine was all that stood between him and imminent death? Jalene was beginning to realize there was much more to Storn Daes than she’d previously thought. She had a sudden worrisome premonition that her sorcery might not work against Storn.

Jalene hesitated, and then answered. “Perhaps some occurrence in Gilmreth’s past; an event that occurred on the other side of Firestorm Mountain long ago, which the dragon didn’t want to repeat. Whatever it was, the dragon didn’t obey me once he was over the mountain. Gilmreth is now in a deep sleep caused by a feeding frenzy. Galvin has to have been destroyed. Nothing else could satiate the dragon to the extent I observed.”

“Is there anything else you’re not telling me?” Storn demanded. “Do you have any idea if something around Galvin could have caused the dragon to disobey you; some force or power that could’ve frightened the dragon?” He wondered worriedly if sorcery could have been involved. Perhaps the Sylvars were not quite as powerless as he had been led to believe.

“Frighten Gilmreth?” Jalene said, astonished, but wondered herself if she might be missing something. “The dragon fears no one! There is nothing on the other side of the mountain that could harm or threaten the dragon. No; it has to be a memory from Gilmreth’s past, perhaps from the time the dragon faced Malcon Sylvar. It’s the only thing that makes any sense.”

“There was nothing else?” asked Storn, gazing at Jalene, his eyes seeming to stare deep into her soul.

“No, nothing else,” replied Jalene, trying to remember everything that had occurred the previous night. “It has to be the past conflict between Gilmreth and Malcon Sylvar. The dragon must still remember it!”

“You think Gilmreth destroyed the village completely?” continued Storn, not pleased with this unexpected development.

“Yes,” responded Jalene, getting tired of Storn’s questions. “From the condition the dragon is in it’s obvious he destroyed the entire village. Perhaps he took out his anger from the past on the village and that’s why he destroyed it completely.”

Storn was silent, looking contemptuously at Jalene as she turned to look toward the open balcony doorway and distant Firestorm Mountain. The mountain’s lower slopes were still covered in dark, slow moving morning shadows. Perhaps she was right. The dragon had remembered its conflict with Malcon Sylvar from many years ago, and that was why it had disobeyed Jalene. It actually made sense.

At times, Jalene demonstrated unbelievable weakness, even with the awesome powers she possessed. The woman was still woefully inept. This problem with the dragon disobeying Jalene’s commands worried him. He wondered just how much control she had over it. He glanced at the Stone of Loraine. With the stone and her powers, the dragon should have obeyed. Why didn’t he?

His men would arrive in Galvin soon enough and then he would know what actually happened. Even if the dragon had attacked the village, surely there would be some survivors. The Sylvars may have survived the attack. Their farm was a considerable distance from Galvin. Perhaps they could still have their sacrifice, and he his long awaited revenge.

Of more concern was the worrisome fact that Gilmreth had demonstrated how easily he could throw off the effects of the Stone of Loraine and disobey Jalene. This was a disheartening development, one he would have to think about very carefully. He’d been uneasy from the very beginning about awakening the dragon so soon. However, without the dragon the new city of Draydon couldn’t have been built or the populace subjugated so quickly. It’d made things so much easier.

“Don’t ever threaten me again!” Storn said quietly and firmly from behind her. “You don’t know who you’re dealing with!”

Jalene whirled around, her face a mask of unbridled anger. “Out!” she screamed, her face white, her pupils dilated so that her eyes were black holes of rage rimmed by a thin line of red. Her fingers poised to cast a spell. The Stone of Loraine brightened visibly. She would end Storn’s life now! She was fed up with his newfound insolence!

Storn turned and opening the door, walked calmly out, leaving Jalene standing in anger. Ignoring her rage, he shut the door firmly behind him, totally unafraid and unconcerned.

Jalene stared at the closed door for several long moments, finding it hard to believe what had just transpired. Storn would have to be dealt with immediately. His insolence could no longer be tolerated. After all, she ruled Draydon, not him! It was her temple and her dragon. Then again, Storn knew all that and seemed unconcerned, as if he knew something she didn’t.

That thought was enough to frighten her long after her anger faded. Why didn’t he fear her sorcery? What was the secret that Storn was hiding? Jalene had a sudden intuition that everything would soon be revealed. She felt icy fingers walk slowly down her back. For an instant, it was as if death itself had entered the room. She paused for a moment, shivering. She felt as if her childhood nightmares had returned.

Walking over to the balcony, she looked out over Draydon, becoming lost in thought. She pulled her cloak tighter about her to fight off the morning chill. Jalene stood on the balcony for a long time dwelling on the events of the night as her gaze returned to Firestorm Mountain and the dragon that slept there.

-

At the head of the temple guards Anton Par, Daes’s right hand man, paused, swinging his burly form around in the saddle to glance back at the men following him. The late-morning sun shone warmly down on the temple guards as they quickly rode along the rutted road. They were armed with long hunting knives, which were all the weapons they would need to control a small village.

Anton looked forward to the job ahead. He had been to Galvin years back and remembered the peaceful little agricultural village. His orders demanded that he bring back several qualified candidates for the next dragon sacrifice. He always took personal pleasure in checking the young women himself to see if they qualified. Of course, if they didn’t they would be turned over to his men for their own enjoyment.

After he was through subjugating Galvin, a small detachment would be left behind to garrison the village and the temple priest would stay. The priest would begin the village’s indoctrination into the worship of the dragon and Lady Jalene, who controlled the ferocious beast.

Urging his mount forward, Par set a quick pace. Even in a village as small as Galvin there would be booty to be divided and women, of course; there were always the women! He also had Daes’s special instructions for the Sylvars.

The long line of horsemen wound down the road, stirring up the dust as they rode forward following their leader. Many of the men came from small groups of brigands that had once preyed upon the unwary traveler or merchant; they made ideal temple guards. They would do whatever Par told them, and he obeyed Daes without question.

Daes put the fear of God into Par. Something about the man was frightening, even deadly. Daes eyes were the coldest that Par had ever seen. He wasn’t a man to be crossed! Looking ahead, Par could see the road began to weave through the mountains following the low passes that led safely to the other side. He knew it would be cold in the passes and possibly even snowy in some places. In a few more weeks, the snow would be deeper and the passes much more difficult to pass through. Then, a few weeks after that, they would be nearly impassable.

They would ride far into the night and then set up camp for a few hours rest before rising at dawn to continue their journey to Galvin. Daes wanted them in Galvin as soon as possible. He’d told Par that the dragon had been sent to destroy a small part of the village to soften up the villagers and prepare them for indoctrination.

The swirling dust, stirred up by the shod hooves of the horses, floated in the air around the long line of horsemen, seeming to follow them toward the waiting mountains. All wore the dark uniforms of the temple guards with heavy black cloaks to ward off the frigid cold of the mountain passes. For the most part they rode in silence.

-

Lynol looked out her bedroom window toward distant snowcapped Firestorm Mountain, resplendent in the bright late morning sunlight. Never had a day seemed so bright nor colors more intense. It seemed as if it had only been a few hours since Gilmreth had destroyed Handon’s Ferry. She’d tried to get some sleep and had managed very little; only a few hours at the most! She had tossed and turned and there were the nightmares; vivid dreams of Gilmreth attacking Handon’s Ferry. They replayed themselves over and over again as Lynol slept.

Her gaze traveled down the slopes of the mountain, coming to rest where she knew the dark tunnel entrance was that led down to the dragon. That Gilmreth must be destroyed and Jalene stopped was rapidly becoming ever more pressing. There was no longer any doubt in Lynol’s mind that the time for action had finally come. With traders from Draydon in Galvin, Gilmreth’s attack upon the farm and then Handon’s Ferry, the time for action had arrived. It was time to test the prophecy she had read on the wall at the ancient altar site.

She held her mother’s crystal in her right hand; she felt its comforting inner warmth and strength. She glanced down at the amulet, seeing the reassuring blue glow coming from the sapphire crystal. It was almost as if her mother was in the room with her telling her that everything was going be all right. Taking a deep breath, she thought about what she needed to do. She would spend the afternoon talking to Malcon’s simulacrum, laying out a plan. Then tomorrow or the day after, if everything went well, she would set out for Draydon with her father and Aldin.

It was time Jalene learned of Lynol. It was time for her to meet the current Sylvar sorceress! She would take care of Jalene first, and then it would be time for Gilmreth. After his feeding, it would be several weeks before he left his lair once more unless summoned by Jalene, and Lynol intended to prevent that.

Uncomfortably, Lynol thought of Adam Grayson, the mysterious figure mentioned so poignantly in her mother’s diary. Adam Grayson, the dangerous sorcerer from the Golden Age, who was responsible for the massive destruction caused by the all-consuming Worldfire. Nowhere had Lynol sensed his hidden presence or use of sorcery. Perhaps he had returned to sleep under the mountain after all. The only sorcery Lynol had been able to sense was Jalene’s, that tainted, dark, twisted feeling every time the woman used her powers.

With her mother’s crystal, Lynol felt confident she could handle Jalene. She’d also be on the lookout for Grayson. If he were in Draydon then she would deal with him also. If her mother’s diary was correct, the blue crystal in her necklace should be powerful enough to defeat Grayson.

Then all that would remain would be Gilmreth! She shuddered just at the thought of descending back into Firestorm Mountain and accosting the dragon in his lair. She felt an icy shiver spread across her back. Shaking it off, she began gathering up her clothes.

Lynol finished dressing and walked into the kitchen, seeing that her father had already eaten a light breakfast and departed to do his daily chores. There was honey and a pitcher of rich cream in the middle of the table. Lynol knew from their talk earlier that morning that her father planned on going to the village either today or tomorrow. Handon’s Ferry was a good two day’s ride away from Galvin. It would take some time for the horrific news of Gilmreth’s attack to reach the village.

There was a cold emptiness in Lynol’s heart. She thought back to the previous night and her conflict with Gilmreth. She still found it hard to think about what had happened at Handon’s Ferry and to Tohm Mystol. Tears began to flow from her eyes unchecked as her emotions let go. God! How could she ever face Gwen? Lynol sat at the large kitchen table and cried.

-

Aldin, Dresdia, and Kalvin arrived around noon full of questions about the previous night’s storm. Just from its ferocity they had known that Lynol had been responsible and she wouldn’t have created such a storm unless something was direly wrong. The three sat spellbound as Damon and Lynol retold the events of the previous night.

“I knew it had to be something bad,” said Aldin, shaking his head worriedly. “The storm was just too powerful! We could see massive lightning bolts, and sometimes I thought I could see a large shadow up in the sky through the rain. I was praying it wasn’t the dragon!”

“Gilmreth was here!” Dresdia exclaimed, shocked, showing real fear on her face as she realized just how close the dragon had been. She felt as if her worst nightmare had finally come true. The dragon may have actually flown over their farm. “Why? Why did the dragon come here?”

“We think the sorceress sent him; exactly why we don’t know,” Damon replied with his arms folded across his chest.

“But you managed to drive him off with your sorcery!” Kalvin exclaimed with excitement in his voice. “You actually managed to stop Gilmreth! I just knew that it had to be him! I wanted to come over last night, but it was too muddy from all the rain.”

“Gilmreth,” Dresdia spoke slowly with worry and fear still in her voice, her emerald green eyes taking on a frightened look. She was deathly afraid of the dragon. She knew she would have nightmares for weeks after this. “Lynol, you might have been hurt!”

“We were afraid of what we might find when we came over today,” admitted Aldin, shaking his head, looking at Damon. “The storm was so violent with all the lightning and thunder.”

“We couldn’t see anything in the sky once the clouds cleared,” continued Kalvin, gazing at Lynol. He’d been extremely worried about what might have happened at the Sylvar farm. He had slept very little worrying about Lynol and what they might find when they came over.

“Lynol drove the dragon off with her sorcery,” responded Damon, feeling proud of what Lynol had accomplished. “It was incredible just watching her. I had no idea how powerful her sorcery had become.”

“Yes, but look at the cost. Tohm is dead! Gilmreth killed him when he attacked Handon’s Ferry,” replied Lynol, using all of her will power to hold back the tears. “Who knows how many others also died! It’s my fault for attacking the dragon!”

“If not Handon’s Ferry it might have been Galvin, or some other village,” Aldin spoke with sadness in his voice. “The dragon was sent here to kill. I don’t think anything could have prevented that, not even you, Lynol! You’re not to blame for this!”

“Aldin’s right,” Damon added with grief in his eyes. “Jalene is to blame for this tragedy, no one else!”

Dresdia and Kalvin felt Lynol’s pain; Gwen and Tohm had always been very close to all of them. They sat in silence for several long moments remembering past times and worrying for Gwen. They all felt extremely sad and horrified at what had happened.

“We shall all go in together and tell Gwen,” spoke Aldin finally, looking at everyone with a heavy hint of sadness in his eyes and voice. “We owe it to Tohm to make sure she is taken care of. It’s the least we can do for him. He was a close friend to all of us and a good friend to everyone in the village.”

“Yes,” Damon replied sorrowfully with a nod. “We will go in tomorrow morning; Gwen needs to be told by us before she hears it from someone else.” Damon knew this would be one of the hardest things he had ever had to do. It would be difficult to explain to Gwen what had happened and why. It was also hard to imagine that he would never see Tohm again!

“I may stay with Gwen for several days if mother says it’s all right,” Dresdia spoke with tears in the corners of her eyes. She was finding it hard to believe that Tohm was gone, killed by Gilmreth! “She will need someone to talk to and comfort her. God knows she has always been there for all of us. She doesn’t need to be alone, not now!”

“She’s going to take this very hard,” Damon added with a heavy sigh. “We’ll have to watch over her carefully. Tohm would have wanted that.”

-

The next morning, Lynol sat at the kitchen table by herself eating a light breakfast. The others had already left to go to Galvin. She knew that soon they would be telling Gwen what they suspected had happened to Tohm. Dresdia would be spending the night with her also, perhaps several nights, comforting Gwen in her grief. Gwen had loved Tohm deeply and the two had been together as husband and wife for a long time.

Lynol still felt pangs of guilt over what had happened. She knew that she always would! She didn’t know how long it would be before she could face Gwen again. That was why she couldn’t see Gwen today. The guilt she felt at Tohm’s death was still weighing heavily upon her. She felt responsible for what had happened. A deep sadness possessed her heart. Gwen was like a mother to her, and Lynol’s actions against Gilmreth had inadvertently taken the man Gwen had spent most of her life with away. How could Gwen ever forgive her? Lynol found that her appetite was gone. Pushing her plate back, she thought about what she needed to do.

Her father had understood why Lynol couldn’t come. It wasn’t just Gwen and what had happened to Tohm. Lynol had some important decisions to make. In the next few days, the fate of Galvin, Draydon, and humanity itself could very well be decided.

The dragon had finally come to their side of the mountain and might return. They could wait no longer. Damon had told Lynol to make her plans. Aldin and he would accompany her to Draydon when she was ready. Gilmreth’s arrival had set events into motion. It was time to fulfill the ancient prophecies!

-

Later that morning, Lynol made her way into the underground crypt to face Malcon’s simulacrum. They both had known this day would eventually arrive. Entering the underground room, Lynol saw the simulacrum waiting patiently for her, seeming to float effortlessly in the soft blue radiance that always surrounded him, a fatherly look of concern and pride upon his face. Sometimes she tended to forget that Malcon was only a simulacrum and not a real, living person. They had become very close over the years.

“It’s time,” Malcon said in a steady voice, looking approvingly at Lynol. “Gilmreth and Jalene must be faced. With the power of your mother’s amulet and Lys’ amulet, you will prevail. Already you have demonstrated the awesome power of your mother’s amulet against Gilmreth.”

“It’s time,” Lynol replied in agreement. “We have to put a stop to all this suffering. There has already been too much death!”

“Yes, my dear,” Malcon replied with understanding, gazing at Lynol. “It is a sad thing that has happened, but that’s what Gilmreth brings.”

“Am I ready?” asked Lynol, looking at Malcon, her right hand resting lightly on her mother’s amulet. She felt her heart flutter and her breathing grew heavier. “Is my training complete?”

“You have become a very powerful sorceress, Lynol,” Malcon replied, nodding his head slightly. “You have learned much and come very far.”

“Then it’s time,” Lynol said slowly, accepting what lay in front of her. “We both knew this day was coming. I just hope the amulets we have are powerful enough; don’t forget Jalene has the Stone of Loraine at her disposal. It’s a tremendously powerful amulet in itself. We don’t know what she has learned of its awesome powers.”

“Jalene has no formal training and everything she’s learned has been on her own while your training has taken a different route. You have all of my knowledge and much of what these books contain,” Malcon added, his hand pointing toward the crowded shelves behind him. “Also, don’t forget the secrets passed on to you from your mother’s diary. Some of the spells revealed in it are truly powerful, much more so than anything I’ve ever imagined could be done with sorcery. In addition, your own amulet was created by Loraine. It’s immensely powerful, perhaps more powerful than the Stone of Loraine.”

“Yes, my mother’s spells and amulet,” Lynol said softly, glancing toward the treasured diary, which lay closed upon the large oak table.

She’d read that diary so often she could visualize each individual page, each precious one, which contained a segment of her mother’s life. It had helped to bring her so close to the mother she had never gotten to know.

“Those are spells from the Golden Age itself,” Malcon reminded her, his unblinking eyes focusing upon Lynol. “You have knowledge available about your abilities and how to use them that no sorcerer since the Golden Age has possessed.”

“Very dangerous and powerful spells,” added Lynol, thinking about some of the spells and what they were capable of doing. “I hope I don’t have to use them. Remember the prophecy at the sacrificial altar specifically mentioned the danger of bringing on a second Worldfire. We don’t have the weapons the ancients possessed, but the power of the most potent of those spells could have the same disastrous effect.”

“They should be used only as a last resort,” cautioned Malcon, nodding his head slowly. “Even in your mother’s diary there are warnings about using some of those spells.”

“If they’re necessary, then Jalene is much stronger than we have supposed,” said Lynol, walking over to the table and placing her hand upon her mother’s diary, pausing in thought. “Perhaps Grayson has taught her, unbeknownst to us. If some of those spells are used, they could very easily destroy everything that is left of our world.”

“Be confident, my child,” said Malcon, folding his arms across his spectral chest. “Grayson still hasn’t made his presence known. You must still be prepared for that threat. Grayson may be in Draydon working behind the scenes, or he may not be there at all.”

Looking at Malcon, Lynol hesitated; even after all the training she had been through she still had some self-doubts. “I’m not so much worried about Jalene as I am about Gilmreth. Jalene can be handled, I believe, but Malcon and Lys both failed to destroy the dragon. Even in the brief encounter I had with Gilmreth the other night the lightning only inflicted some minor pain on the dragon. It caused no permanent harm or injury. I don’t know what would’ve happened if the dragon had persisted in his attack upon me. What if I can’t destroy the dragon?” This had always been Lynol’s greatest fear.

“Gilmreth is a creation of the Golden Age,” Malcon replied solemnly, weighing his words carefully, searching for the right ones. “He has remarkable powers of recuperation built into him from the powerful sorcerers of that time. We don’t know if Gilmreth can actually be destroyed.”

“In all of our studies, you have never shown me the sleeping spell that Malcon used,” Lynol spoke softly, staring questionably at the simulacrum. “I need that potent spell in case the dragon can’t be destroyed. It may be the only way to stop him.”

Malcon’s simulacrum took on a pained look as he contemplated Lynol’s request. This was the one question he had always feared, one that would have to be dealt with. He wished she hadn’t asked, but it was a request he couldn’t refuse. He didn’t know if Gilmreth could actually be destroyed, even with the awesome power of the two amulets Lynol had at her disposal.

The power Lynol now wielded was impressive but the dragon was very powerful, perhaps more powerful than he had ever been. Malcon had hoped that with Lynol’s amulet, along with the advanced teaching she had received from him and from the diary, that the sleeping spell might not be necessary.

“Very well,” the simulacrum said reluctantly, realizing there might be a need but praying that there wouldn’t be. “I will give you the spell. Just remember, it drained Malcon to the point where he died enacting it. The same could happen to you if you are forced to weave that deadly energy-consuming pattern. You must try to find some other way to defeat Gilmreth. You could always return to the underground complex and search it once more. Surely, somewhere there is a record of how to destroy the dragon. Remember, your mother’s diary speaks of the sorcerers of the Golden Age discussing doing just that. There has to be another way. We just need to find it!”

“I realize that,” Lynol replied, still feeling responsible for Tohm’s death. “But Gilmreth must be stopped one way or another. I don’t know if we'll be given the time to return to the complex and search it. Besides, from what we have learned the complex is enormous. Who knows how long it might take us to find the information we need? If I must sacrifice myself to stop the dragon, then so be it. Show me the spell!”

“You could always awaken the other sleepers. Your mother left you the method on how to do so in her diary,” Malcon replied slowly, knowing what Lynol would say in return. He really didn’t want to give her the sleeping spell if there was any other way.

“No, that’s not an option. My mother specifically said they’re not to be awoken unless everything else fails. They’re to be protected at all costs, even if it means my own sacrifice,” Lynol replied with resolve in her voice. She was determined to obey her mother’s wish. The sleepers would stay hidden safely away until it was time for them to awake in the future.

Nodding his graying head, the simulacrum gestured for Lynol to take a seat at the long, heavy table crowded with books, some open, some closed from previous studies. They had a long day ahead of them and many careful, intricate plans to make. Malcon felt extremely proud of his student and the progress she had made. He just wished she didn’t have to face the dragon.

Lynol took her seat, staring at the vase of flowers she had brought down several days before to brighten up the place. Why was it that flowers never smelled so fresh and sweet until they were dying? Lynol wove a quick spell and the wilted flowers brightened, standing up, returning to their former glory. Satisfied, she picked up a pencil and paper ready to copy down the spell, which Malcon was preparing to teach her. She waited expectantly.

Malcon watched Lynol, so much like his daughter Lys in so many ways. He prayed that Lynol wouldn’t need this deadly spell. Well did he know that even the wisest of teachers could be wrong upon occasion. Closing his spectral eyes, Malcon recalled the intricate pattern of the sleeping spell. Then, opening them, he gazed at Lynol. She waited ready to begin learning the deadly incantation.

-

Damon stood on the porch of Gwen’s store staring solemnly down the short, almost empty street. Even Addison’s was empty of any trade wagons from Draydon. The last had left two days before, something Damon was thankful for. That was one less problem they had to worry about. Gwen had taken the news of Tohm’s death very hard, and Dresdia had taken her to her room to lie down and rest. Gwen had fallen asleep, a restless sleep with Dresdia hovering watchfully over her.

“It’s a horrible thing,” mumbled Aldin, stepping out of the store’s entrance, closing the door quietly behind lest they disturb Gwen’s troubled rest. “What are we to do if the dragon has already struck Handon’s Ferry? Where will it strike next? Lynol can’t be everywhere!”

“I don’t believe it’s the dragon we have to fear right now,” Damon said worriedly, peering down the street and at the narrow road that wound into town.

The dusty road between Galvin and Draydon was normally only traveled by a few local farmers or traders, but now Damon could see a long line of horsemen, more than he had ever seen before. “Look at those riders, Aldin! That’s trouble coming!”

“Jalene’s temple guards!” Aldin swore under his breath, looking at the rapidly approaching horsemen. They’d heard descriptions of these men and the dark uniforms they wore. “Jalene’s henchmen finally coming to Galvin. I guess we should have expected this after Gilmreth’s appearance the other night!”

“Gilmreth was supposed to soften us up, prepare us for their arrival,” Damon said with dawning realization, his eyes watching the approaching riders worriedly. The entire village was about to get a rude awakening.

“Well, Lynol screwed up that plan at least,” replied Aldin wryly, watching the nearing horsemen intently. “What should we do?”

“Send Kalvin to warn Lynol. I don’t want her being surprised by these men. It’s hard telling what’s going to happen with them in the village,” said Damon, stepping back away from the edge of the porch. This was something they should have expected. They should have known that once Gilmreth made an appearance, Jalene’s temple guards wouldn’t be far behind.

Aldin disappeared back inside, and moments later Damon could hear WhiteStorm’s hoofs beating the hard ground behind the store, rapidly fading as Kalvin rushed to warn Lynol. Stepping inside, Damon shut and locked the door, then lowered the window shades as the malevolent riders entered the village.

Aldin and Damon watched through the narrow gaps in the shades as the dusty men came to a stop in front of Addison’s store. A tall, burly looking man, dressed in a black uniform trimmed in red, dismounted and disappeared inside, soon returning with a highly aggravated and frightened Addison.

“They went straight to Addison’s store,” Aldin muttered disgustedly, watching the men gather around Addison, who was shoved up hard against the wall of his store by two rough looking guards.

With a panicked look of desperation, he could be seen pointing toward the Mystol’s store, as if he was frantically trying to tell the guards something.

“The man can’t keep his damn mouth shut,” Aldin spoke disgustedly. He didn’t like the looks of this at all as he continued to watch Addison and the temple guards who were questioning him.

“Addison’s been under their control for several weeks now,” responded Damon worriedly, watching what was going on across the street. “I wonder what they want? Maybe we should wake Gwen and all of us get out of Galvin. We’ll be safer at our farm with Lynol.”

“I have a bad feeling about this. I don’t think we’re going to get a chance to leave. I wish I’d sent Dresdia with Kalvin,” Aldin said beneath his breath as the guards jerked Addison away from the wall and pushed him roughly down the steps. “Addison must know that we’re here!”

A group of ten or twelve men led by the big burly character headed straight toward the Mystol’s store. There could be no doubt as to their destination.

“Here they come,” said Aldin, stepping back away from the window. “I would like to get Addison off by himself somewhere. The man is a scoundrel and unbelievably stupid! I wonder what he told them this time?”

“He must have seen us ride in,” replied Damon, also stepping back from the window. Aldin and he moved back next to the store counter where they had a good view of the door.

The men climbed the steps in front. Finding the door locked, one of the larger men kicked the door open, breaking it loose from its hinges. The men stomped into the store, crowding in through the now open doorway. Damon and Aldin stood their ground next to the counter, waiting to see what happened next. Both men were careful not to make any threatening moves.

“That’s him!” spoke Addison in a shrill voice, pointing at Damon, his face flushed with fear and excitement. “That’s Damon Sylvar and his friend, Aldin Gor. They’re the people you want. They’ve always been trouble makers! If you have them, the rest of the village will do whatever you command!”

“Shut up, Addison,” Aldin muttered just loud enough for him to hear.

“Go to hell!” Addison screamed in anger, his eyes wide with triumph. “You’re going to get yours now! I told you someday this would happen!”

Damon put his hand out, touching Aldin’s arm and shook his head. They didn’t need to get into a fight with Addison.

Par nodded at two of the guards who took Addison back outside, tossing him roughly down the steps where he fell in a miserable whimpering heap upon the ground. One thing Par couldn’t stand was a sniveling coward, and that man definitely filled the bill.

Par stood for a moment, carefully taking the measure of the two older men before him. Both were powerfully built and middle aged, and neither showed any sign of fear of him or of his men. At least these men didn’t appear to be cowards, which was something to say in their favor.

“So you’re Damon Sylvar,” Par said contemptuously, trying to elicit a response. “You’re the last of the great Sylvars of Galvin. You don’t look so great to me!”

Damon said nothing, staring at the man, their eyes meeting with Par finally turning his gaze away. This wasn’t the time to provoke him, Damon realized, hoping that Kalvin had gotten safely away to warn Lynol. They needed to bide their time, and a confrontation now would turn out badly. He knew that as soon as Kalvin reached Lynol, she would rush to Galvin. With her sorcery, she should be able to subdue these men. They just had to survive until she could get here.

“I understand you have a daughter. Where is she?” Par demanded loudly, motioning for his men to seize Damon and Aldin.

“I’m right here,” a young woman’s voice spoke tentatively from the open doorway leading to Gwen’s bedroom. “I’m Lynol Sylvar.”

Damon and Aldin both recognized Dresdia’s voice. Damon started to say something, but a warning glance from Aldin silenced him. “She knows what she’s doing,” whispered Aldin, leaning forward where the guards couldn’t hear. “We don’t want them searching for Lynol; maybe Dresdia can buy her the time she needs. Once Lynol gets here, she can put a stop to all of this.”

Damon nodded, his eyes focusing worriedly on Dresdia as she walked tentatively forward, coming to a stop a few feet in front of the leader. Dresdia stood still, waiting. There was silence in the room. Damon felt very uneasy with the role Dresdia had chosen to play. It could be an extremely dangerous one! He knew it was all Dresdia could do to stand before this man and not look afraid. He knew she must be terrified.

Par walked over to Dresdia and grabbed her roughly by the arm, dragging her to the open doorway into the bright afternoon sunlight. Yes, she was a beauty all right; her long blond hair and emerald green eyes made her very enticing. Too bad he had strict instructions about this young woman. He had a special liking for women filled out the way she was.

“Dalden,” spoke Par, turning to one of his guards and shoving the girl toward him. Dalden had been with the trade wagons that were returning to Draydon. Par had stopped them and ordered him to return to Galvin with the temple guards. “Keep four of the men here to watch these three. I don’t want anything happening to them. Make sure the girl’s left alone! She isn’t to be touched. We have specific instructions from Daes about her. We don’t want to displease him!”

“Yes, sir,” replied Sikes, shoving Dresdia harshly down into a nearby chair.

This girl was a looker. Sikes felt his eyes wandering down to the fullness of the girl’s breasts, feeling desire suddenly hit him. Then, jerking his eyes away, he looked back at Par. This girl was off limits. It was safer to put those dangerous thoughts out of his mind.

Gesturing toward Damon and Aldin, Par continued. “You two sit down next to the girl. If either one of you tries anything, you will be dealt with harshly. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Damon replied as he and Aldin sat down in a couple of chairs next to an obviously frightened Dresdia.

It was all that Aldin and Damon could do not to react. So far, no one had actually been harmed. They weren’t sure how much longer that would last.

Par walked back out into the street with the remainder of his men, rejoining the others who were waiting impatiently. It was time for the looting to begin. “Remember, men,” warned Par, looking pointedly around at the swarthy group. “Any young virgins are to be brought to me and the priest. They aren’t to be harmed. The rest you can do with as you please. Let’s show this village what it means to resist the Temple of the Dragon!”

With excited yells, Par’s men began to fan out around the village. In moments, chaos swept over the quiet village of Galvin. Shouts and screams echoed down the narrow streets as his men kicked in doors and invaded homes. After a few minutes, Par was satisfied that everything was proceeding according to plan. He headed over to the tavern he’d spotted when he first came into the village. For now, that would serve as his headquarters. Also, some stronger refreshment was in order.

-

It was late afternoon when Kalvin rode WhiteStorm in a swirl of dust into Lynol’s yard. Several times Kalvin had been forced to hide behind trees and in the brush as temple guards appeared, riding to search the outlying farms. Evidently, not all the guards had ridden into Galvin with the main group. Tying WhiteStorm to a post next to the back porch, Kalvin ran up the steps, pounding his hand on the back door and calling out Lynol’s name.

“What’s wrong, Kalvin?” Lynol’s calm voice spoke from behind him.

Whirling around, Kalvin saw Lynol standing next to WhiteStorm, petting the animal’s neck with a concerned look upon her face.

“It looks like you’ve ridden WhiteStorm very hard. The poor thing’s breathing so heavily. What’s wrong?”

“Jalene’s temple guards are in Galvin!” Kalvin cried out, worried about his father and sister. “We have to do something! Father, Dresdia, and your father are still there. I left them at the Mystol’s store. They sent me to warn you!”

Lynol arched her eyebrows in surprise, growing concern crossing her face. “Temple guards in Galvin,” repeated Lynol, digesting the information. It seemed everything was moving so rapidly. “I guess we should have expected it. If Jalene sent Gilmreth the other night, it’s only reasonable she would send her guards to follow up.”

Turning, she beckoned Kalvin to follow her. In her mind, she was concerned for her father, Aldin, and Dresdia’s safety. She wished they were safely out of Galvin; especially Dresdia. Dreadful rumors about the temple guard’s atrocious treatment of young women had already reached Lynol. If Dresdia was harmed in any way, the temple guards would pay dearly for their crime. If they injured any of her family or friends, they would rue the day they had come to Galvin!

They quickly made their way to the entrance of the Sylvar Stone, walking down the steps and into the crypt far below. Looking around, Kalvin could see numerous books and scrolls bearing arcane symbols lying open upon a large elevated oak table; obvious signs of Lynol’s studies.

The glowing simulacrum stood with arms folded across his chest watching them, waiting, curious as to what was going on. Malcon could see that both of the young people had looks of extreme worry and concern upon their faces.

“Kalvin,” breathed Lynol, staring at the glowing simulacrum with worry in her voice. “Tell Malcon what has happened!”

Breathlessly, Kalvin repeated the story to the glowing simulacrum about the temple guards arriving in Galvin. Malcon listened quietly, growing concerned at the news. He knew that these guards would have to be dealt with. Events were moving fast; too fast!

“This is something we should have foreseen and prepared for,” Malcon’s simulacrum stated, staring calmly at the two. “We have been too complacent since these temple guards have never been seen on our side of the mountain before. We should have recognized Gilmreth’s attack for what it was; the beginning of Jalene’s long awaited move to bring this side of the mountain under her control.”

“I must go to Galvin to help Father, Aldin, and Dresdia!” Lynol cried worriedly with growing impatience. She was seriously concerned about what might be happening in Galvin.

“There are a lot of them, Lynol,” Kalvin warned. “I’m worried about Dresdia and our fathers too!”

“I will never forgive myself if anything happens to any of them,” stated Lynol, looking at Malcon.

She felt reasonably sure her father and Aldin would play it safe until she arrived. However, Dresdia’s wellbeing was another matter entirely. She knew her closest friend would be frightened. Tohm had already paid the ultimate price. She worriedly fearfully who would be next. Please keep Dresdia safe, Lynol pleaded. She couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to her closest friend.

“I’ll go with you,” Kalvin volunteered, worried about his father and sister. “We can ride double on WhiteStorm.”

“No, Kalvin,” said Lynol, shaking her head and taking his hand.

“Lynol, I can’t just stay here and do nothing,” Kalvin replied determinedly. “My father and Dresdia are in Galvin; who knows what could be happening to them!”

“No, Kalvin,” she repeated firmly, looking into his eyes. “There is something else I need you to do.”

“What?” Kalvin blurted, surprised and disappointed that he wouldn’t be returning to Galvin with Lynol. What could she want?

Lynol wasn’t sure what might happen in Galvin or immediately afterward. She might not have a chance to see Kalvin for quite some time. Once she revealed herself, she would have to act quickly. She dare not allow Jalene time to prepare. Then, looking deep into Kalvin’s eyes, she continued. “If I fail, there is something important you must do. Malcon will explain that to you. I will be back shortly.” Lynol released Kalvin’s hand and ran back up the stairs.

Malcon’s simulacrum turned to face Kalvin, its face covered with a look of concern as the time for action had finally irrevocably arrived. The simulacrum spoke softly. “We must speak of Firestorm Mountain and the waiting sleepers within, Kalvin. Only you and Lynol have been inside the great complex under the mountain. If Lynol fails in the perilous task she has set for herself, it will be up to you to see that her life wasn’t wasted. Listen closely; this is what you will have to do.”

Kalvin’s face became grim, yet he didn’t protest. He already suspected what the simulacrum was about to ask. Lynol had alluded several times that he might someday have to return to the ancient complex beneath Firestorm Mountain.

-

Kalvin was sitting at the large table, staring around at all the mysterious objects scattered about the large underground room. The simulacrum had explained in exact detail what Kalvin would have to do if Lynol failed against Jalene and Gilmreth. He’d answered all of Kalvin’s questions unhesitantly and clearly. The simulacrum had also given Kalvin access to the crypt without Lynol in case he needed more guidance.

Footsteps descending the stone stairs attracted Kalvin’s attention. Turning his head, he saw Lynol step back into the room. With amazement, Kalvin stood up, staring in awe at the beautiful apparition before him. Lynol was dressed in dark blue denim jeans and a white blouse trimmed in Sylvar blue. A short blue cape hung from her shoulders with the Sylvar dragon crest upon each one. She looked stunningly beautiful. An aura of power and authority seemed to exude from her, an inner strength that literally glowed. Resting upon the white blouse between her breasts was her brilliant blue amulet, no longer quiescent but awash in its own fiery inner radiance. Before Kalvin stood a sorceress; of that there could be no doubt!

“Lynol,” spoke Kalvin, taking a tentative step toward her.

“Kalvin, you must stay here!” commanded Lynol, laying one soft hand upon his chest and looking into his questioning brown eyes.

Kalvin gritted his teeth and looked as if he would turn away. Lynol could see the anguish on his face. She knew that he loved her that he would protect her if need be. But against this threat, she knew he could do nothing.

Kalvin’s brow furrowed and he gazed down at the stone floor, slowly shaking his head. He wanted to go with Lynol. He was terribly concerned for the safety of his father and sister.

“Lynol, let me go with you. I will stay out of sight,” he pleaded, hoping she would agree.

“No, Kalvin,” responded Lynol firmly, knowing how badly Kalvin wanted to help. “If I fail, you must go to Firestorm Mountain and awaken the sleepers. Malcon’s simulacrum has told you what must be done. You’re the only one that can do that!”

She reached up, turned his face with her fingertips, and kissed him. Their lips met in a long, passionate kiss. Within the kiss was a promise of a future they both longed to share, which offered so much to live for if ancient prophecy would permit.

Malcon watched the couple quietly. He remembered how Lys had wanted a life of her own with a husband and children, a life and dream that Gilmreth had cruelly ended. He hoped and prayed it wasn’t about to be repeated again.

“Wait for me,” Lynol whispered softly. Turning, Lynol started to climb the stairs.

“Lynol, wait,” Malcon’s simulacrum called unexpectedly.

Turning, Lynol retraced her steps until she stood before the glowing blue figure. The two eyed each other for a timeless moment, the simulacrum with an almost fatherly look upon its face, the proud teacher and the graduating student.

“Take Lys’ amulet,” spoke Malcon, pointing to the dais where the amulet rested underneath the richly embroidered silk cloth. “It is a powerful amulet in itself, and its power has already been used in the past against Gilmreth. You may find that you will need it.”

Nodding, Lynol walked over to the dais, laying back the soft silk cloth and picking up the gently glowing amulet and golden chain. She’d already used it for some of the spells the simulacrum had taught her. The amulet was attuned to her, and she could use it easily if necessary. She preferred her own amulet. Lys’ amulet would be used only if her own failed. In addition, if hers failed Lynol knew that she would probably be dead!

Carefully she placed the amulet in one of her shirt pockets. She would have it if needed. Turning, she walked to the stairs and vanished from sight as she rapidly ascended the steps.

“Be careful, Lynol,” Kalvin called after her, feeling worried with a deep feeling of loss.

“She has been like a daughter to me,” Malcon spoke softly as Lynol’s footsteps faded away. “She will come back, Kalvin. She is the most powerful sorceress since the Golden Age. I don’t think even she realizes just how powerful she actually is.”

“I hope you’re right,” Kalvin said as he sat back down. He knew he was in for a long and worrisome wait.

Above ground, Lynol Mounted WhiteStorm. Nudging the horse forward, they galloped down the road toward Galvin in the late afternoon sunlight. Twilight would soon be upon them, and Lynol would make her entrance into the village under the protection of darkness. The moon wasn’t due to rise until well into the night.

The last Sylvar sorceress astride WhiteStorm rode with a vengeance toward a confrontation, which had long since been foretold in ancient prophecy. Ahead of her the temple guards, Jalene, and Gilmreth awaited, and perhaps a power from the Golden age itself; Adam Grayson!

Chapter Seventeen

Damon and Aldin were being held in the dimly lit village tavern with their hands tied snugly behind their backs. They were sitting at a small table near the front, next to the wooden bar that extended the entire length of one wall. Damon looked grimly around the packed room, which was filled to capacity with many of the villagers who had been brought in by brute force. Some of the men had vicious looking bruises and scrapes from fracases with the temple guards.

Several women sat next to their husbands in tears, some in shock from either being brutally raped or having their daughters dragged off. Many didn’t know the fate of their younger children. Damon wondered just how many villagers or local farmers had been killed in the last few hours. The sheer brutality of these men deeply troubled him. It made him fear for Dresdia’s safety.

“These men are despicable,” Aldin muttered under his breath, careful not to draw the guards’ attention to them. “If these are the type of people in power in Draydon, I shudder to think at the atrocities the people in the town must be enduring.”

“These are the type of men that are easily controlled,” Damon replied quietly, keeping his eyes warily on the leader who was still at the bar drinking.

He just hoped that Kalvin had made it to Lynol. If so, then these men were in for a rude awakening. Should something terrible happen to Dresdia, Damon shuddered to think what Lynol’s anger would be like.

“I wonder what these bastards have done with Dresdia?” Aldin said, his eyes wide with worry and concern as he glanced around the room. He was very worried about his daughter and what might be happening to her.

“I don’t think they’ll harm her,” replied Damon, glancing at Aldin. “Not as long as they think she’s Lynol. For some reason, they want Lynol kept safe.”

“You think they want to take her back to Draydon?” Aldin asked as he saw several other villagers being brought in through the tavern’s large front door and shoved brutally into a couple of empty chairs. The man and woman both looked to be in shock. The man had a severe cut above his lip and a dark bruise over his right eye and the woman was crying.

“That’s what the guards have been saying,” Damon answered. He’d been trying to listen to the guards’ conversations whenever possible. “Evidently some of the other captives are to be taken back to Draydon.”

“Back to the sorceress,” Aldin responded with worry. “Probably to be sacrificed to Gilmreth! Damn; this just gets worse every moment. What’s next?”

“It will never come to that, Aldin,” promised Damon, knowing his friend was very worried about Dresdia.

“I hope you’re right,” spoke Aldin, looking around the room at the shattered expressions on the villager’s faces. Everywhere there were looks of despair and fear.

“I hope Lynol makes it soon,” spoke Damon, looking back at the bar.

-

Anton Par stood at the bar, a satisfied look upon his face and a warm glow from several bottles of liquor filling his belly. The day had gone quite well. The village had turned out to have enough nubile young women to satisfy his men, and while the looting had been poorer than expected, it was still enough to add to the temple booty. Several heavily laden freight wagons would be sent back to the Lady Jalene.

The sorceress would be very satisfied with their accomplishments, especially finding the Sylvar woman. That alone ensured the success of this raid. Jalene would be quite pleased, perhaps pleased enough to advance him even higher in the hierarchy. Yes, Par thought, things were certainly looking up. He swirled his glass slowly, watching the captivating amber liquid. The benefits of being Daes’ right hand man were definitely paying off handsomely.

Besides the Sylvar woman, four young women had been found to be virgins and prime sacrificial candidates. He had already dispatched Dalden Sikes and several dependable men back to Draydon with the captives. Tomorrow, he would complete the subjugation of the outlying areas around Galvin, begin setting up a small garrison force to maintain control, and settle in the temple priest who had made the trip.

Eventually, the priest would return to Draydon to report on the progress of the village’s indoctrination. Due to the high productivity of the farmland around the village, Par felt sure that Galvin would continue to function as an agricultural community, shipping all of its farm products back across the mountains. It would serve Lady Jalene and the dragon by feeding the myriads of people in Draydon.

Taking another long drink from the half-full glass, Par thought enthusiastically about the two young women he’d held back for his own use later. They weren’t virgins and as such weren’t banned from his personal use. They were waiting in his room at the small village inn. Yes, this job certainly had its fringe benefits. Turning, he placed his back against the bar, looking over the room, holding his glass in his right hand.

Temple guards stood alertly around the inside of the tavern keeping a sharp eye on the disgruntled village people. More were still being rounded up so the priest could begin their indoctrination. Once their initial instructions were complete, Par would explain the rules very plainly; obey or die! Once he was satisfied that everyone understood, the villagers would be allowed to return to their homes. All except for the few that Par felt might be troublemakers. Those would be kept under guard until he decided just how big a problem they might be. Several would probably end up being taken back to Draydon to be sacrificed to the dragon.

Par knew Jalene wanted new inductees to her rule to begin hearing the priests immediately. The helpless villagers would soon learn what it meant to serve the Temple of the Dragon and the Lady that controlled that deadly, monstrous creature. Jalene’s rule would soon extend to all of the villages on this side of the towering mountains. Galvin was just the first!

Par had noticed when riding into Galvin that the land around the small village seemed unusually lush. The fields were clean with no deformed plants or trees dotting the landscape like those closer to the mountains. The pastures had been a pleasant, healthy green dotted with numerous grazing animals. Everything seemed so peaceful. Yes, this might not be too bad a place to settle down.

He wouldn’t mind finagling the job as commandant of the garrison that would be stationed here permanently. Since he’d found the Sylvar girl, there was no doubt in his mind that such a request would be granted. With the two women he’d chosen, he could live quite comfortably, and being this far away from the temple and the dragon could have its own benefits.

Par sensed there was a power struggle growing between Storn Daes and the Lady Jalene. He would prefer to be a considerable distance from Draydon when that conflict eventually exploded out into the open. He was sure that Daes would see the wisdom of keeping Par in Galvin. Since he was totally obedient to Daes surely the High Priest would see the benefit of having his own man in control of things on this side of the mountains.

The front door of the tavern suddenly swung open, interrupting Par from his thoughts. A stunning young woman dressed in a white blouse trimmed in blue with a flowing blue cape on her shoulders walked unhesitantly into the tavern, immediately commanding attention. Her blue eyes seemed to glow with a barely contained anger.

Par stood up straighter, wondering where this beauty had come from. How had his men missed her? She easily put all the rest of the girls in the village to shame. She exuded power and confidence in her manner as her gaze swept over the captives in the tavern. An eerie surprised silence held the room as all eyes became focused on her. It was as if royalty had suddenly appeared in the midst of commoners. This girl’s father must be a captive here in the tavern, Par thought. This girl was a fool to walk into the tavern dressed like that. Her gaze finally came to a rest on Par, meeting his eyes unflinchingly.

“Well, well; what do we have here?” asked Par, breaking the silence, setting his glass down on the bar and taking a step forward.

He would have his guards take this beauty to the quarters he’d appropriated. Three women at his disposal would make for quite an entertaining night. Very seldom did one stumble across a young woman this beautiful. Yes, the benefits of working for Daes were certainly paying off!

“That’s Lynol Sylvar,” Addison spoke hoarsely from the table he had been sitting at trying to think of a way to ingratiate himself with these men. Seeing Lynol come into the tavern seemed like the perfect opportunity. They would seize her and perhaps release him. He would get his revenge on the Sylvars yet!

“Lynol Sylvar?” stammered Par, feeling confused and turning to face Addison with a look of growing anger on his face. “Then who was the girl we caught earlier? She said she was Lynol Sylvar. I even had her sent to Draydon under escort to be delivered to the Lady Jalene. What is this trickery?”

“It was probably Lynol’s friend, Dresdia,” Addison responded quickly, rising to stand next to Par, seeing an opportunity to improve his deplorable situation. “If she had long blond hair and emerald green eyes it was Dresdia Gor. She was probably trying to protect this one. But this girl is Lynol Sylvar!”

“Damn!” Par swore aloud, getting worried. They’d screwed up!

If Sikes got to Draydon and passed this pretentious Dresdia woman off as Lynol Sylvar, he could be in for all sorts of unthinkable trouble. The Lady Jalene wouldn’t take kindly to being sent the wrong sacrifice; she would be furious.

Par could picture himself ending up on top of the temple platform in shackles waiting for Gilmreth. He would be sacrificed as an example, the ultimate price for failure. His plans for ruling this side of the mountain for Daes had just crumbled.

He knew he had only one possibility of saving himself. He had to grab this girl and rush her to Draydon. With a little luck, he might be able to catch the other group. He could switch the girls and return to Galvin.

-

Damon and Aldin stared at Lynol with rising anticipation. The entire room had grown quiet upon seeing her entrance. The air seemed charged with a mysterious power waiting for a spark to ignite a conflagration. A slight murmuring began as the battered villagers saw how Lynol was dressed. No one could understand what she was up to. They’d all heard the legends of Malcon Sylvar, and on a few haggard faces dawning hope began to appear.

It was as if a bright light had suddenly lit. A few people suddenly realized who had been behind Galvin’s growing fortune the last several years. Suddenly it made sense why the crops had improved and the animals had been breeding more often. Others looked even more confused, wondering why Lynol would come here and put her life in jeopardy. What could one defenseless girl do against these ruffians?

Damon saw instantly that Lynol was wearing the sorceress outfit she’d made. It had been designed to impress people, to make them hesitate and wonder. The simulacrum in the crypt had been quite pleased with it. It’s about to begin, he thought, watching his daughter closely.

The people were about to learn that there was indeed a powerful Sylvar sorceress. Very soon, the whole world would know! These unruly temple guards were about to receive a rude awakening. There was no doubt in Damon’s mind that Lynol could handle this situation. After her encounter with Gilmreth the other night, Damon had realized that Lynol was indeed a very powerful sorceress, perhaps the most powerful ever!

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” Lynol’s clear voice rang out challengingly across the room, her gaze focused unwaveringly on Par. “Why have you come to our village and harmed the people of Galvin?”

“I am Anton Par, and I represent the Lady Jalene of Draydon who controls the great dragon Gilmreth!” Par answered in a powerful voice, trying to figure out what this girl was doing.

Lynol had already seen her father and Aldin tied to chairs at one of the tables. Of Dresdia, she saw no sign. She hoped no harm had come to her friend or these men would pay dearly for it; very dearly! She held her concern and anger in check, her gaze resting upon the man at the bar. In the back of her mind, she thought of the spells she might need. She felt her fingers tingling as they tapped into the power necessary to create the energy patterns. She gazed at Anton Par, measuring him for his reaction to her appearance and her words. She was also highly aware of the other guards standing around the room. All eyes were on her.

Par hesitated a moment. This girl seemed so confident, so unconcerned that she had walked into a room full of hostile, armed men. What was she, some kind of village idiot? Perhaps so with that strange clothing she was wearing. Par could sense the sudden tension in the room. Something didn’t seem right. He needed to nip this in the bud quickly before the captive villagers began to cause trouble.

“You’re my prisoner now, young woman,” Par said loudly, aware that everyone was watching and listening to the exchange. “You shouldn’t have come to this tavern! You will be taken to Draydon and the Lady Jalene!”

“No! It’s you and your men who shouldn’t have come into our community. Did your mistress not inform you that not even her mighty dragon could harm our village?” Lynol stated calmly, her clear light blue eyes sweeping across the room.

“What do you mean?” stammered Par, remembering what Daes had told him. The dragon was supposed to have flown over this village, scaring the people. He realized with an icy feeling running down his back that none of the villagers had mentioned Gilmreth. What had gone wrong? “No one can resist the dragon!” he replied firmly. “The dragon is all powerful, and only the Lady Jalene can control Gilmreth!”

A loud, nervous murmuring came from the people seated in the tavern at the mention of the dragon. The guards around the perimeter of the room shifted about uneasily on their feet, looking at one another questioningly. No one was sure what Lynol was talking about.

However, many of the villagers remembered the mysterious thunderstorm from a few nights back, the harrowing, blue-white lightning blasts in the sky out toward the Sylvar and Gor farms. Many had been roused from their sleep, rushing out to see what the mysterious disturbance was. The noise from the tumultuous lightning blasts had been deafening. Most had shrugged it off as a freak thunderstorm, now they wondered if this young woman was responsible. Had she been fighting the dragon? Was that what the lightning blasts had meant?

Damon and Aldin merely looked at one another knowingly. They knew the truth and Par was about to discover it also. They waited tensely for Lynol’s next move.

“I can!” Lynol replied clearly, letting her hand drop to her side from where it had been shielding her glowing blue crystal amulet. “I defeated Gilmreth and drove him away!”

A gasp of surprised amazement swept across the room as Lynol slowly walked forward several steps, coming nearer to Par, the enigmatic glowing amulet holding everybody’s astonished attention.

“Did you really think sorcery no longer existed in the Sylvar family?” Lynol’s voice rang out as clearly and commanding as before. “Did you think we wouldn’t resist this effort to enslave our community?”

Lynol’s hands begin to weave a quick pattern in the air, a special spell she had created for just such an occasion. Luminous lines of spectral blue energy appeared at her fingertips. “You should have never come to Galvin. Gilmreth learned that lesson, and now so will you!”

Seeing the glowing amulet, Par felt a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach. What had this girl done to the dragon? He’d been assured by Daes that Jalene was the only sorceress alive, but seeing this girl so confident and with a glowing amulet lying between the swell of her breasts made him wonder. Was this why Daes and Jalene had wanted the Sylvars so badly? Had they known or suspected, but failed to warn him of this danger?

Par saw the vague blue energy lines beginning to form around the woman’s fingertips, and all doubt as to what she was instantly vanished. He’d watched Jalene do her sorcery often enough to recognize what he was seeing. This girl was a damn sorceress! What have I gotten myself into? His mind suddenly filled with fear and worry for his own safety.

“Seize her!” he yelled desperately, pointing to several guards standing nearby. “Seize her or we’re lost! She can’t be allowed to complete her spell! She’s a sorceress!”

“I don’t think so,” Lynol replied again with a grim smile of confidence on her lips as she cast her now completed spell. She could see her father and Aldin watching her closely.

Instantly the room was full of screams and crashing chairs as everyone dove to the floor. Above their heads appeared a floating dragon. The apparition hung in the air motionless; its yellowish red eyes were focused on Par.

Par stood petrified, staring at the nightmarish creature before him. The woman definitely was a sorceress! She even controlled a small dragon! Daes and Jalene had allowed him to enter a trap, to confront an unknown sorceress. He wondered what they had been thinking when they sent him to Galvin. Surely, they must have known what awaited him here. With a despondent feeling he suspected that he had been sacrificed, used as a pawn to flush out this girl. Obviously he wasn’t as valuable to Daes as he’d thought. He knew he was about to die; no one could survive a dragon. He awaited his death.

“Tell your men to lay down their weapons and the dragon won’t harm you,” commanded Lynol, keeping her eyes steadily on Par and his guards.

The unearthly chimera of the fearsome dragon floated threateningly in the air. The amulet between Lynol’s breasts pulsed with a bright blue radiance. The guards hesitated, not sure what to do.

Lynol had hoped to resolve this peacefully without resorting to physical violence and that the dragon apparition she’d created would frighten these ruffians into submission. From the frightened look upon their leader’s face, Lynol thought it just might work.

“It’s a trick!” Addison yelled desperately, staggering to his feet from where he had been hiding underneath a table and grabbing Par painfully by the arm. “The dragon’s not real, it’s an illusion! Don’t let this young girl make a fool out of you!”

In Lynol, Addison saw his greatest fear. She represented the true power of the Sylvars of old. This was why the entire village held the Sylvar family in such high esteem. His years of campaigning against the Sylvars were in danger of being washed away in mere moments. His worst nightmare was coming true. He had to stop this before it was too late!

Shoving Addison roughly aside, Par yelled once more with desperation in his voice. “Seize her!” Stepping forward toward Lynol, keeping his eyes warily and fearfully on the floating dragon, he reached for the long, wicked hunting knife belted to his waist.

Grasping her crystal, Lynol concentrated briefly, causing the dragon to swoop toward Par, causing him to lose his balance and crash clumsily to the hard floor as he tried to throw himself out of the dragon’s reach. The knife slid from his grasp, sliding under a table.

The dragon apparition flew toward Par’s advancing men, causing them to halt and hesitantly back away. They’d seen what a dragon could do at Gilmreth’s sacrifices. They were notably afraid of even this small one. Dragon fire could easily incinerate them all! Several dropped their weapons and raised their hands in submission. They hadn’t bargained for this kind of fight. They couldn’t defeat a dragon!

“No, you must stop her!” Addison wailed in despair at seeing the guards throw down their weapons.

Par climbed back to his feet, looking frighteningly around. His gaze finally came to a stop on the small dragon that was now hovering close to the girl.

“You can’t be a sorceress, there are no others but the Lady Jalene!” he reiterated, his eyes full of uncertainty.

Concentrating upon another spell, Lynol pointed the fingers on her outstretched hand toward Par. From her amulet, a brilliant blue light flicked out, striking the man. Par fell instantly to the floor, unconscious. Lynol whirled around, and once more the blue light flicked out, striking a temple guard in his chest. The man dropped his long knife and collapsed. Instantly the rest of the guards panicked and rushed toward the door, becoming easy targets for Lynol’s sorcery. They collapsed one by one as the blue light from Lynol’s crystal struck them.

After the blue light had played over all the guards, Lynol nodded to herself, satisfied that not a single guard was left standing. She felt exuberance sweep over her as she realized what she’d done. Lynol relaxed, and as she did so the small dragon vanished. The effort she had just used to subdue these men didn’t seem to have fazed her. She knew part of it was adrenaline pumping through her veins. The after effects would come later.

The room was deathly quiet. Everyone held their collective breath, gazing in wonder and amazement at Lynol. Going to her father, she quickly untied him as well as Aldin.

Addison stood fearfully in a corner of the room, his face a mask of horror as he realized the enormity of the mistake he’d just committed. His days as a businessman in Galvin were done! The citizens of the community would never forgive him for his treachery.

“Where is Dresdia?” Lynol asked, concerned about her missing friend. “Are you two all right? Did they harm you in any way?”

Aldin and Damon exchanged worried glances. For a moment neither spoke.

“What is it?” Lynol asked with growing apprehension, seeing their troubled glances and continued silence. “Is something wrong? Where’s Dresdia?” Her friend had better not have been harmed in any way whatsoever by these men!

“They took her!” Aldin replied finally, aggravation creeping into his voice, massaging his wrists where the rope had been. “Some of the guards took her and a few other young women back to Draydon. We think they’re to be sacrificed to Gilmreth during the next dragon sacrifice. Dresdia told them she was you. She wanted to buy you some time.”

Lynol was speechless. Dresdia’s bravery by posing as her amazed and frightened her, for she knew her friend had placed herself in grave danger.

“Why?” asked Lynol, finding her voice. “She would’ve been safe here. She shouldn’t have done this!”

“Perhaps not,” replied her father, looking at some of the crying and stunned women who stood with their husbands. “These men have harmed a lot of people today. If Dresdia hadn’t told them she was you, they might have seriously harmed her. I don’t believe our village will ever be quite the same.”

Looking around at the crying village women and seeing the bruises on many, Lynol realized what her father was saying. Her anger towards Jalene and the men who served her grew.

“We will save her!” Lynol said determinedly. She wouldn’t allow any harm to come to her brave friend. “Gather some men and have them disarm the temple guards and lock them away somewhere. We need to find and remove the weapons from the rest of the guards that are scattered about the village. Once that’s done and they’re all secure, we’ll go to Draydon. It’s time that I meet Jalene. It’s time for her murderous rule to come to an end!”

Lynol looked around the room at her friends and acquaintances that were in obvious pain. Relief was growing upon their faces as they realized their terrible ordeal was over.

Damon and Aldin gathered up several dependable men and soon had all the unconscious guards locked up in a secure back room of the tavern, and just for good measure they threw a wailing Addison in also. He had demonstrated very plainly which side he was on. Addison screamed loudly in protest when he realized what was happening, but his protests fell on deaf ears. He didn’t have a single friend left in the village; even his usual cronies failed to make eye contact with him. Addison had finally burned his last bridge. He was an outcast, someone to be despised and pitied. He was finished in Galvin!

Damon, Aldin, and a dozen other determined men went with Lynol to search for the other guards. Their tactic was simple, when they found any guards, Lynol simply knocked them unconscious with her sorcery. They were then dragged back to the tavern and placed with the others.

Several men were dispatched to strengthen a large storage building behind Addison’s store that could be used to hold the temple guards. There were nearly forty of them all together; the back room of the tavern wasn’t going to be big enough. The storage building behind Addison’s was made out of heavy, thick stone. He’d built it to keep anyone from stealing from him; now it would be put to good use.

-

In Draydon, Jalene stood on her balcony in the chilly night breeze, her black cloak wrapped tightly around her, staring at the ebony darkness shrouding Firestorm Mountain. Jalene peered out toward the mountain, her dark, sunken eyes unblinking as she pictured Gilmreth sleeping beneath. She shook her head slowly. Her mouth drawn into a taut line. Beneath the mountain, she could dimly sense Gilmreth slumbering.

Deep underground beneath Firestorm Mountain the dragon lay. He was in a deep, satiated sleep. Occasionally the dragon’s hide moved, twitching and flickering over its great length. A demonic nebulous reddish glow seemed to hover about the sleeping dragon. Awash in the energy from his feeding, the glutted dragon lay immune to Jalene’s insistent prodding. The dragon had finally returned to his former strength and glory. He was once again all-powerful!

“Why did you disobey me, Gilmreth?” Jalene asked aloud, her mind searching for an explanation. “How can you possibly resist the Stone of Loraine?”

Jalene feverishly hoped that Par succeeded in locating the Sylvars in Galvin if they were still alive. She had a special ceremony planned, one that would put all past dragon sacrifices to shame. It should allow her to maintain control over the dragon. With a worried sigh, she realized that it might be necessary to increase the number of sacrifices at the temple to keep the dragon satiated.

She would decide that after the Sylvar sacrifice. She would use the sacrifice of the Sylvar girl to epitomize her power and solidify her rule. She would also use the ceremony to reconfirm her control of the temple guards, to ensure they realized who pulled the strings in Draydon. It might also be the proper time to confront Storn, particularly if she had Gilmreth under her control after the sacrifice. Storn could easily be fed to the dragon. She would truly enjoy the mind link with Gilmreth as the dragon fed on Storn. Yes, it would be highly enjoyable indeed.

Jalene heard the door creak open behind her. Turning, she opened her mouth to blast the intruder, only to see Storn Daes standing there. The man’s growing impudence continued to amaze her. Didn’t the man realize what she could do to him? She could blast him down with just a mere thought using her sorcery.

It was almost as if he wasn’t afraid of her. That would change at the next dragon sacrifice. Storn had grown too powerful and his growing insolence had sealed his fate. Jalene suspected he was trying to manipulate things behind her back. She’d reached a firm decision; Gilmreth would feed upon Storn during the next sacrifice. She would pick a weaker, more controllable priest to succeed him.

She had several in mind that would be easy to control if Baelen didn’t work out as Storn’s replacement. It would give her immense satisfaction to see Storn die upon the temple platform. It might also be necessary for Par and Sikes to join Storn as sacrifices. Those three controlled the guards. That would create a power vacuum in the temple guards that she could easily fill with men of her own choosing. Yes, by sacrificing those three she could easily reassert her control.

“What is it, Storn?” snapped Jalene, glaring at the man while stepping away from the balcony and walking back into the large, spacious main room with growing aggravation.

“Our guards should be in Galvin by now,” replied Storn ignoring Jalene’s angry tone of voice. “Once the Sylvars are captured, my men have orders to immediately send back the most qualified candidates for the next dragon sacrifice. If they found the Sylvar girl, she should arrive with that group.”

Jalene didn’t like the way Storn used the term “ men”, they were her guards and priests and he only commanded them at her discretion. His entire attitude and total lack of respect recently was making her extremely uneasy. Yes, she decided firmly, feeling better now that the decision had finally been made. Storn Daes’ usefulness was over! His next service to the temple would be to feed Gilmreth.

“When will the men be back with the sacrifices?” demanded Jalene, turning her back on Storn and gazing at the distant black shape of Firestorm Mountain through the open doors of the balcony.

She hoped the Sylvars had survived Gilmreth’s feeding frenzy. She wasn’t sure what might be left of Galvin. It had to have been heavily damaged or completely destroyed by the dragon’s attack. Jalene just hoped Gilmreth had left the outlying farms alone. She hoped he hadn’t already fed upon the Sylvars, which would ruin everything. She turned back around and looked at Storn, waiting for an answer.

“Soon,” Storn replied, his face emotionless.

He looked at Jalene contemptuously. This young, foolish woman was so easy to manipulate, she didn’t realize how easily he could see through her plans for him. His many faceted plans would soon come together, climaxing in his own rise to power and the domination of Draydon.

“The men should be back with the sacrifices two days hence. They won’t make quite the same speed with captives, but on horseback it will still be quick enough for our purposes,” he replied.

“Excellent,” Jalene spoke coldly, turning to stare back out the balcony. Her temple was awash in the yellowish red glow from the numerous torches, which lit the temple at night. “Begin making preparations for the sacrifice four nights from tonight. I want everyone gathered to witness our greatest accomplishment; the death of the last Sylvar!” If they are still alive, Jalene amended to herself. “We will make this a sacrifice that will symbolize my rule. It will guarantee that no one will ever dare challenge my commands. I will give you my final instructions for the sacrifice once we learn if a Sylvar is among the captives. Go and tell Baelen to begin the preparations.”

Storn nodded; Jalene’s plans would work well for what he had in mind. The populace would see a sacrifice all right, and it would indeed be something they would always remember. But the night wouldn’t go as Jalene planned. When he was through, he would be recognized as the new ruler of Draydon. His dynasty would begin, and Jalene’s would end as it had begun, in a sacrifice to Gilmreth!

Storn let his eyes fall upon the glass case that contained the Stone of Loraine, which glowed hauntingly with a ruby red light. Yes, it was time for a new more powerful ruler to finish what the weak-minded Jalene had started, time for him to take back what was his. Turning, Adam Grayson walked out through the still open door, not giving Jalene another thought or glance. The ancient sorcerer from the Golden Age knew that he had nothing to fear!

-

To the west of Galvin, in the first of the low passes that led through the mountains, Sikes ordered his men to halt and pitch camp for the night. In the distance, there was the rolling, ominous growl of thunder. The night sky was overcast, lower, and menacing. The captives were placed in a large tent with a guard posted outside to ensure they wouldn’t try to escape.

That was the least of his worries. The young women were so shaken up from their ordeal that, for the most part, they sat huddled together sobbing hysterically. All except one; the Sylvar woman made Sikes feel very uneasy. During the late afternoon and evening ride she had shown no fear as if she knew something that Sikes didn’t, and this bothered him immensely. She should have been afraid of what awaited her in Draydon. The night seemed to close in malignantly around him.

Reaching forward, Sikes stirred the small, burning campfire with a stick, causing glowing red embers to float lazily up into the night air. It was unusually cold for this time of year and the wind had picked up. When it lulled occasionally, there was no sound save the nervous stomping of the tethered horses. Pulling his heavy cloak up around his shoulders, he stared balefully into the flickering fire wondering what lay ahead. Par had been adamant about the importance of getting these prisoners back to Draydon as quickly as possible. Lady Jalene wanted the Sylvar woman for the next dragon sacrifice.

It was a shame to waste such beauty and innocence, Sikes thought. He was half tempted to drag the Sylvar woman to his own tent. For a moment, he contemplated the alluring thought, becoming lost in his fantasies. A flash of lightning in the distance distracted him, drawing his attention to the approaching inclement weather. The storm would soon bring a cold rain or even snow, which only worsened Sikes’s mood.

The campfire jetted yellow flame as it reached a gum pocket buried in one of the small logs. The flame held for a few moments making a popping noise and then died back to brightly burning coals. A cast-iron skillet balanced on hot stones sizzled in the embers where Sikes had been cooking some bacon. A sudden cold gust of wind momentarily sent more sparks upward into the overcast night sky. His gaze returned to the women’s tent.

Sikes got up and walked determinedly over to the tent, his meal forgotten. Motioning the guard aside, Sikes opened the tent flap. He saw the Sylvar woman huddled with the others trying to stay warm. There were still things he could do to this young woman, or she could do to him. He just had to make sure she stayed a virgin. “You!” he said, pointing a stiff, uncompromising finger at her, “come with me!”

-

Dresdia stood obediently and followed the man outside the tent, trying to hold her fear in check. It was colder outside, and she shivered violently as she followed Sikes over to the warming fire. She felt nervous and frightened from the day’s tumultuous events. So far, she had managed to conceal her rampant emotions. It was all she could do to keep her fear at bay. She hoped Lynol would be able to rescue them before they arrived at Draydon.

She held her hands out toward the fire, feeling its warmth. It was cold in the tent, and none of the girls had heavy clothes to protect them from the chill. They’d been huddling together trying to use their body heat to stay warm, wrapped up in the few light blankets they had been given.

Turning, Sikes suddenly grabbed Dresdia, his mouth brutally seeking hers, his hand pulling her up tightly against him, molding her enticing body to his. He held her closely, feeling her body’s softness against his chest. He felt his desire race, his body filling with cravings and need.

“No, let go of me!” screamed Dresdia, pulling away from Sikes and slapping him resoundingly across the face. The sound rang hollowly through the camp as she struggled to free herself from the man.

The other guards looked out from their tents to see what the noise was. Seeing Sikes with the girl they turned back around, choosing to ignore what was going on. They knew better than to come between Sikes and a woman. Another crash of thunder rumbled in the distance and a few splattering cold raindrops fell to the ground. The countryside lit up briefly from the blue-white flash of lightning.

Dresdia was stunned and revolted by the sudden attack. “You have no right!” began Dresdia, becoming terribly frightened.

She knew just how defenseless she was. If this man tried to rape her, there would be nothing she could do to stop him! She knew from what the other girls had told her that these brutal men had raped many of the women in the village. Was she to be next?

Sikes stepped angrily forward, raised his arm, and slapped Dresdia with the back of his large, rough hand. The crack of flesh on flesh echoed in the cold air. Dresdia’s head snapped back with the force of the blow and she dropped to the hard ground. She went limp as she landed and tumbled.

She lay there for a moment, stunned. Dresdia groaned and her eyes fluttered weakly open. The cold raindrops were bringing her back to painful consciousness. Her face ached horribly where Sikes had struck her. She could feel hard, sharp rocks pressing into her back from where she lay on the ground.

“That’s my authority, bitch!” Sikes snarled, a cruel smile curving his thin lips as he rubbed his stinging hand with the other. Sometimes women had to be taught roughly what their position in life was. He looked down at the girl’s more than ample, heaving breasts. He would show this one who was in charge!

Dresdia looked up at the hard faced man and then dropped her eyes quickly as he glared with lust-filled eyes down upon her. She didn’t even try to resist when he grabbed the front of her blouse and pulled her roughly to her feet. She was too terrified to speak. Dresdia stood paralyzed, shocked by Sikes’ unexpected actions. With dread, she waited for what was going to happen next. She knew she was powerless to stop him.

“Don’t aggravate me again, bitch,” snarled Sikes, ripping Dresdia’s shirt open down the front, exposing her pale breasts in the flickering firelight. Seeing the firm mounds of enticing flesh, Sikes eyes widened with anticipation. God this woman was gorgeous! He felt his lust grow, casting all caution to the wind. He gazed at the girl’s breasts, plainly visible in the faint firelight.

Obedient as a puppet and paralyzed by fright, Dresdia held her arms at her side lest he strike her again. She averted her eyes, feeling the man’s rough, callused hands pawing brutally at her. The pain was nearly unbearable, his touch intolerable and utterly humiliating. She knew that if she didn’t do something quickly she was going to be raped. What could she do? Her mind raced as she tried to think.

Sikes bent his head down, ran his tongue over her breast, and then bit her with his teeth. “You like that, don’t you bitch?” Sikes growled heatedly.

He undid his cloak and then reached for the belt on his pants, his fingers working with the fastening. “I have something for you, my little bitch,” his whisper was harsh, demanding, his desire racing out of control. “It’s about time someone made a real woman out of you!”

“What will your mistress say when you deliver damaged goods?” Dresdia managed to croak out, repulsed and frightened at the thought of her body being violated.

The feel of Sikes hands and mouth upon her breasts had been nauseating. She knew there was nothing Lynol could do to save her from this moment. Only by playing on Sikes fear of Jalene did Dresdia stand a chance. “What will she do when she finds out what you have done? Your men will talk; they will tell her! She will sacrifice you to the dragon as well!”

Sikes stepped back, paralyzed briefly by indecision. For a moment, he had forgotten about the sorceress back home and the High Priest Storn Daes who waited. In the distance lightning flared and a cold, steady rain began to fall. An omen, Sikes thought. If I possess this woman, I could very well end up as dragon food! God, her breasts had felt so soft, her body so enticing! For a moment, he hesitated; she was almost worth taking the risk. Taking one last, longing look at the woman’s exposed breasts, fighting to bring his raging desire back under control, Sikes said hoarsely, “Go back to your tent, bitch; your fate rests in Draydon!”

Retreating hurriedly to the tent, Dresdia went inside where the other frightened girls asked what had happened. Dresdia skimmed over Sikes’ attack, leaving out several of the more embarrassing details. Dresdia tied her shirt back together the best she could. She knew she’d come within just a few seconds of being raped. Dresdia felt terribly weak and faint as she realized the dangerous situation she’d been in and still was.

Sikes stood in the rain looking angrily at the captives’ tent. He realized just how close he’d come to making a serious mistake. The hissing fire, as the cold rain fell upon it, drew Sikes attention back to the weather. It was raining and turning cold. A few snowflakes were mixed in with the falling rain. Sikes walked back to the fire, noticing that the bacon he had been cooking earlier was completely burned. He kicked the skillet off the fire and looked up defiantly into the cold rain and snow that was falling. They still had a long trip ahead of them.

Several minutes later, Sikes turned in, closing his tent behind him, the rain and snow was coming down even heavier. They needed to be up early in the morning, and they couldn’t travel quite as fast with the prisoners. The trail would be muddy, and it would probably be cold as well. Several of the men were riding double with the prisoners, and it was evident that most of these frightened young girls had never been on a horse before. The going would be slow, and they had a timetable to keep. Sikes didn’t want to keep Daes and Jalene waiting.

The full fury of the storm struck just after midnight, cold rain pelting down and the snow turning to ice. The wind howled, shaking the tents. Great jagged bolts smashed from sky to earth as lightning and thunder walked hand-in-hand down from Firestorm Mountain. Sikes watched from his tent as lightning lit up the night sky. Not a good omen at all, he thought. He felt as if death itself was coming from the mountain. Gathering his blanket around him, he lay down and tried to sleep.

-

Dresdia sat just inside the entrance of the tent where she had been carefully watching the leader out by the fire. She was relieved when he’d finally retired to his tent. She held in her anger, but it was harder to rein in her despair. She hugged her arms to her chest, shivering, and not just from the cold. It was freezing in the tent, and the girls were now huddled even closer together for warmth.

Dresdia had managed to quiet the other girls down and convince them of the importance of helping her carry on her masquerade. She’d stressed repeatedly the importance of no one revealing that she wasn’t really Lynol. The girls hadn’t understood why it was so important, but they had agreed not to say anything.

The rain and ice were coming down hard outside, and the tent was leaking like a sieve. The girls squirmed around trying to find a dry spot to sleep. It was cold and dismal; now on top of everything else it was wet as well. Dresdia wondered if Lynol was responsible for the storm. Perhaps she was trying to slow them down so she could catch up and rescue them before they reached Draydon. Dresdia fervently hoped so.

For a long time, Dresdia sat deep in thought. She knew that by now Lynol would know what had happened. She had all the confidence in the world that Lynol would rescue them. Her father, Kalvin, and Damon would help and between the four of them, with Lynol’s sorcery, she suspected Jalene would soon be in for a big and nasty surprise. Wrapping a blanket around her shoulders, Dresdia lay back on the cold, hard ground trying to get comfortable. Soon she fell into a restless sleep. In her dreams, she saw a demonic dragon standing on the ancient sacrificial altar looking down on a helpless girl chained to the upraised stone platform. The girl was herself!

-

In Galvin, the last of the temple guards and the red robed priest had been gathered. The priest had panicked when he saw Lynol and the glowing amulet she wore. It only took Lynol, Aldin, and her father a short period of time to learn everything the priest knew about the dragon sacrifices. All it had taken was a quick show of Lynol’s powers and the priest had cowered fearfully before her. The apparition of a dragon hovering above his head had loosened his tongue very quickly. He’d pleaded with Lynol to show mercy. He knew full well from watching Jalene just what sorcery and a dragon could do.

“We leave early in the morning,” Lynol said after listening disgustedly to the priest. They’d learned more in the last few hours than they had in all previous years combined since Jalene had taken over Draydon. “It will take the guards with the prisoners at least two full days to reach Draydon on horseback. I don’t think there’s any way we can catch them before they reach Draydon. They have too big of a head start.”

Lynol had tried to use her sorcery to sense where Dresdia and the temple guards were, but for some reason, she hadn’t been able to. That worried her greatly. She wondered if her own fear was blocking her from finding Dresdia.

“Dresdia will help keep the other girls calm. She knows we’ll be following shortly,” Aldin said, his face creased with worry over his daughter. God only knew what she was being forced to endure at the hands of the men who had taken her.

“Dresdia is a strong girl, Aldin,” spoke Damon, comforting his friend, knowing what was going through Aldin’s mind. He was extremely worried about Dresdia, they all were.

“They won’t harm her,” added Lynol, wishing Dresdia wasn’t in danger. “As long as they think she’s me, they’ll do nothing to her.” Lynol hoped this was true based on what the priest and Par had said.

“Jalene wants a Sylvar for the sacrifice!” Aldin stated angrily. “We must get to Draydon before she summons Gilmreth!”

“We will, Aldin,” replied Damon, putting his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “It’ll take time after they arrive to organize the sacrifice, Jalene will want to organize a spectacle once she thinks she has a captive Sylvar.”

“We will make it in time to rescue her, I promise,” Lynol assured Aldin, wishing she felt as certain as she sounded. They just had to get there in time. If anything happened to Dresdia, she would never forgive herself.

Lynol turned and gazed for a moment at Firestorm Mountain, the weak moonlight from the quarter moon reflecting dimly upon the snow-covered peaks. Earlier a small storm had formed over the passes, but it had recently faded away. She’d used her sorcery to strengthen and guide the storm over the lower passes, hoping to slow down the temple guards who had Dresdia. She also knew that Dresdia would know who had sent the storm. It was the only way she could think of to send her best friend a message.

She thought of the sleeping spell of Malcon’s which was running ominously through her head. Lynol wondered just how all of this would end. What will it take to stop Gilmreth? Lys and Malcon had failed; could she do any better? Now Dresdia’s precious life depended on her prowess with sorcery. Lynol prayed that she was safe. What the priest had told them about Daes, Jalene, and the dragon had been horrifying to say the least.

Daes, Lynol thought. After what she had just heard from the priest and the temple guards, she wondered if this man might not be Adam Grayson after all. If he was, then her trip to Draydon would turn out to be extremely dangerous indeed. Could she really stand up to one of the greatest sorcerers of the Golden Age? Lynol was thankful for all of her training, but she wondered if it was enough.

With a chilling realization, Lynol knew that everything was at last coming together. The prophecy would soon be fulfilled, one way or another. The prophecy at the sacrificial altar was coming true in its entirety. It was all about to be played out in real life. Lynol shivered, feeling the cold fingers of destiny walking across her back. She wondered worriedly just how all this would end.

Chapter Eighteen

Jalene stared contemptuously at the captives from Galvin, her eyes roaming piercingly over the nervous, frightened young women. With inner satisfaction, she looked at the stunning young blond that Sikes had nervously identified as Lynol Sylvar. The young woman stood defiantly, seemingly unafraid under Jalene’s piercing gaze. She had a slight, dark bruise on her face. She’d obviously fought with her captors. Excellent! She didn’t want a spineless girl for the sacrifice, especially if she was a Sylvar! This girl would go before the dragon without the influence of Baelen’s drug or additional inducement from her sorcery. She would truly face the dragon and the ramifications of what it meant to be sacrificed.

“Excellent work, Dalden,” Jalene commented satisfied, turning to face Sikes, who stood nervously behind her. “These girls are exactly what I wanted. Take them upstairs and turn them over to Baelen, and tell the priests to have them cleaned and fed. We want them nice and healthy looking for the ceremony tomorrow night.”

“Yes, Milady,” replied Sikes, feeling relieved that his transgression with the Sylvar woman hadn’t been revealed. He gestured to the attending guards and the young women were led to the stairs.

Jalene watched as the girls were led out and hustled upstairs where they would be placed in individual holding cells. A Sylvar, she thought excitedly; she actually had a Sylvar! This sacrifice would ensure her continued control over Gilmreth. The dragon, under her prodding, would remember his ancient enemy. Gilmreth would recognize what Lynol Sylvar represented. A chance for vengeance, an opportunity to extract retribution for the pain and the long sleep Malcon Sylvar had inflicted upon the dragon. Surely the dragon would recognize what she’d provided and return to following her commands.

“They will make perfect sacrifices,” Adam stated, his voice cold and emotionless. He stood slightly behind Jalene where he’d been waiting quietly. He’d looked at the captives, knowing they would satiate the dragon at the next sacrifice. Once well fed, the dragon would be more susceptible to the Stone of Loraine, especially if it was in the right hands.

Adam still believed Gilmreth could be controlled by the Stone of Loraine, but not by Jalene. She was too weak! She allowed her emotions to control her actions too often. The stone only magnified the power of its possessor, and Jalene was far too weak to wield it properly. In Adam’s hands, the Stone of Loraine would show its true power!

“Yes, they will,” answered Jalene looking at the now empty stairs. “According to Sikes, Gilmreth didn’t attack Galvin at all.”

“I just wonder where Gilmreth went,” said Adam, looking at Jalene with his dark blue eyes. “Where did he feed that night he was supposed to go to Galvin?” Adam was intensely interested in the actions of the dragon.

“Sikes said the village wasn’t harmed at all,” replied Jalene, turning to look at Storn. “He must have fed elsewhere. Sikes reported that Par has almost finished subjugating the populace. They’re sending back freight wagons loaded with food and other supplies, which should arrive in a couple of days. Evidently the area around Galvin is quite productive. Par thinks we should keep the village intact and allow it to produce food for our city.”

“So the dragon didn’t attack Galvin at all,” Adam commented in a level neutral tone, his mind turning to other thoughts and plans. “When Par returns, perhaps we will know more. For now, we have our sacrifices. As for the food idea, if Galvin’s farms are highly suited to grow food, we can make it our main settlement on that side of the mountain.”

“I still wish I knew why Gilmreth wouldn’t attack Galvin. What can the dragon be so afraid of?” Jalene spoke quietly, more to herself than the man she still knew as Storn Daes.

“They found nothing out of the ordinary in Galvin?” Adam asked, still feeling uneasy about Gilmreth not obeying Jalene that night. He felt like he was missing something, but he couldn’t fathom what it was.

“The guards found nothing; no threat. I just don’t understand why Gilmreth didn’t obey,” Jalene answered with a mystified look upon her face. “It has to be a distant memory from the days of Malcon Sylvar. Perhaps the Sylvar girl knows something. I may have to question her in more depth later; this is a mystery I want solved. Gilmreth shouldn’t have disobeyed me!”

Adam’s blue eyes stared contemptuously at Jalene. His face maintained its neutral look, but his thoughts didn’t. He would also like to know why the dragon hadn’t attacked Galvin. Something about this entire episode made Adam feel deeply troubled. Nevertheless, his plans were proceeding. At this moment, there was nothing that could endanger them. This minor problem wouldn’t be allowed to affect what he had envisioned.

“Preparations will be completed by noon tomorrow. Everyone is being ordered to attend the sacrifice,” Adam continued, folding his arms across his chest. “Food is already being prepared. It will be a feast fit for a coronation.” His coronation, he added silently.

Jalene looked at Storn. The priest stood next to the wall of the large room adorned in his black robe and red cape. She stared at Storn for a moment, wondering if the priest had any idea of just what she had planned for the sacrifice. He had no inkling that his life could be measured now in hours and not in days!

She felt a calmness sweep over her mind as she realized that soon all of her dreams would be realized. After tomorrow night, Gilmreth would be under her control. Daes and Sikes would be disposed of, and the people would be completely obedient to her and only her. Baelen would make an excellent replacement for Storn. He would never dare to challenge her authority. He was weak and fearful of her, and he would be very easy to control. Later on, she would deal with Anton Par with Daes and Sikes out of the way; Par should be relatively simple to dispose of.

“Have all the arrangements been made, will all the people be able to see the sacrifices?” she demanded heatedly, her eyes meeting Storn’s. She wanted to make certain the entire city of Draydon realized the special significance of this sacrifice.

“People will be allowed to observe from the top of the buildings and be packed into the outlying streets and parks,” Adam replied, his eyes meeting Jalene’s and holding her gaze unwaveringly. “Everyone will be able to see and hear the sacrifices. The dignitaries of the city will observe from the high towers as usual.”

“Just see that nothing goes wrong!” Jalene warned, her eyes flashing the threat. “This will be our greatest sacrifice, and I don’t want anything to interfere.” Jalene turned and strode out the door.

Yes, tomorrow night, she thought, everything would fall into place. It would be the beginning of the next phase of her rule. Storn would cease to be a problem. After Lynol Sylvar was sacrificed to Gilmreth, the High Priest would follow. Storn would pay dearly for his growing insolence. A deadly smile spread across Jalene’s face as she visualized the end of Storn and the true beginning of her rule of everything left of humankind.

-

Adam watched Jalene leave, a hidden smirk breaking out on his face. The stupid bitch, he thought. They would see who was fed to the dragon tomorrow night. Her thoughts were so easy to read, it almost amused him sometimes how easy she was to control. It would be Jalene’s night, all right, but not as she imagined. There was so much about sorcery she had never learned or even suspected. She had no conception of how weak she really was, even with her power supplemented by the Stone of Loraine.

“A surprise indeed tomorrow night, Jalene,” Adam said darkly to himself. “It will indeed be a night to remember.”

The Sylvar woman would make a worthy sacrifice, but Jalene would be even better. The foolish woman had stayed a virgin, a very serious mistake. Even Gilmreth could be tempted if given the proper inducement. With a warped smile on his face, Adam walked over to the window that looked out over the bustling city. Outside, the sun was already reaching its zenith and priests were busily setting up long lines of wooden tables in the square before the temple. Wood was being piled up for the cooking fires. Everything was being prepared for the massive feast that would follow the sacrifices.

Adam became lost in thought as he reviewed his own carefully laid plans. Tomorrow night would mark his ascension to power over the city of Draydon, which he had built, not Jalene. Nodding ominously, Adam visualized his plan in its entirety lest he’d missed any details. Years of meticulous planning were coming rapidly to culmination. While this primitive world didn’t compare to the high tech one he’d tried to take over in the past, it would do for now. He would be able to live a life of luxury and be the absolute ruler of all that remained of humankind.

-

Jalene walked testily through the long halls of the temple. Storn had a way of getting on her nerves recently. She was glad tomorrow night that would end. As she walked, she looked at the large murals that had been painted on the walls. Many showed her atop the temple directing the dragon ceremony. Gilmreth, in all of his demoniacal glory, was painted in careful detail astride the temple, looking out hungrily over the captivated populace below. The dragon’s eyes seemed to burn with a yellowish red glow, a hint of dragon fire on his breath. The paintings were all dedicated to her and the power she controlled.

Jalene was nearly to the end of the hall when one mural drew her attention, one she hadn’t noticed before. It was a recent painting. She stopped before the mural, frowning. The large painting was of Storn, dressed in solid black, a red cape about his shoulder and the symbol of the dragon upon his breast. Storn was standing alone atop the temple with his arms spread wide; his hands turned up and open. The temple was coated in red; blood red. What did this signify, she wondered angrily? Why had Storn had this mural painted?

She felt a cold chill of premonition walk slowly across her back, enough to frighten her long after her fleeting anger had faded. Her heart beat faster as she drew in a long, deep breath. Storn’s impudence was unbelievable. Didn’t the man realize what he risked? She knew Storn showed little fear of her sorcery or of the dragon. Well, tomorrow night would change all of that. If Storn felt he was so valuable to Jalene that he could show such insolence, he was about to find out just how wrong he was!

For a long moment, Jalene pondered going back and confronting Storn. No mural such as this should have been created without her specific approval. Just what did he think he was doing? Her anger flared out at the priest again like a hot flame. She would order the mural destroyed, immediately confront Storn over his audacity, and have him imprisoned with the other captives until tomorrow night!

After a moment, she calmed down and then continued to walk down the hallway. She would be rid of Storn tomorrow night anyway, and then she would have the mural removed. She couldn’t wait to see the shocked and stunned look on his face when she turned the dragon on him. She could just imagine him cowering before Gilmreth, begging her for mercy, mercy she wouldn’t grant. Jalene turned a corner and took the stairs ascending to the top of the temple.

Moments later, she stood upon the temple platform, the cool afternoon breeze blowing softly into her face. Standing at the edge of the platform, she gazed out over Draydon, the city she had created, at its bustling streets and busy shops. Every individual in the city was hers to command. Dissent had vanished completely. Her priests and temple guards maintained strict control over the populace. The people had come to accept and embrace temple doctrine as their new way of life.

Jalene reveled in the power she held. A word from her and a person’s life was forfeit. The sacrificial ceremonies filled her with a sense of omnipotence. The world was hers and hers alone. No one represented a serious threat to her rule. Storn would be gone after tomorrow night. He’d become a serious thorn in her side recently, and everyone would learn from his sacrifice. Jalene wasn’t to be trifled with.

For a brief moment, Jalene recalled her childhood and the small room she had been kept prisoner in during her mother’s numerous fits of rage. Sometimes she would spend days locked in that room. She shivered in the cool breeze as she closed her eyes tightly, shaking off the distant memory. Never again would someone threaten or control her. For a long time, Jalene stood gazing out over the waiting city.

-

Dresdia sat huddled in a corner of the small cell where she had been ruthlessly thrown. She shivered as much from shock as from the cold. The last few days had been the most terrifying of her young life. She felt chilled at the thought of how close she had come to being raped and still felt violated by what had happened and how she'd been handled. She felt like throwing up and crying, but she knew that she couldn’t let anyone see her break down. She had to protect Lynol. When Lynol arrived, Dresdia would have her revenge on Sikes. Lynol wouldn’t be happy at all when Dresdia told her what Sikes had tried to do; what he had done!

Suddenly, from down the hallway she heard yelling. Dresdia thought it was one of the women who had come with her from Galvin, but she couldn’t tell which one. The woman screamed loudly, and Dresdia could hear sounds like she was being beaten. The woman’s screaming eventually died down to a whimper and then to soft moans as the thick sounds of repeated blows continued to ring dully. Dresdia sickeningly wondered which of the women who had been captured with her was suffering so and what she had done to bring down such harsh punishment.

It had been so difficult for her to act unafraid. She couldn’t count the number of times she had felt like screaming out in fear. Only her determination not to let Lynol down had carried her thus far. A whisper of sound alerted her to the presence of someone else in the cell. She glanced up, startled at the sound of footsteps on the stone floor.

“So you’re Lynol Sylvar,” Baelen Dal said, his bearded face hard with strange colorless eyes.

Dresdia looked up at the hard-faced blond priest and then dropped her eyes quickly as he looked down at her. Those water-pale orbs gave her chills. She felt a flicker of fear in her stomach, afraid of what was about to come. The sounds of the other woman’s screams still rang hauntingly in her ears. Was she to be next?

“You will wear this tomorrow,” Baelen said coldly, tossing a white robe on the narrow bed. Turning, the priest walked back out the open cell door without another word. Then, looking back, he continued. “You will be brought food shortly. Make sure you eat it, for it might very well be your last meal.”

Dresdia heard the cell door shut and turned to look at the white robe the priest had tossed on the bed. Reaching out, she picked it up, feeling the silken softness. Tomorrow, she thought. Please Lynol, don’t be late! She sat down on the bed holding the robe to her breasts, her mind focused on her family and Lynol, trying not to cry.

A guard brought her a plate of food, which Dresdia refused to eat. She didn’t trust anything they might bring her. Eventually, she lay down on the bed falling into a restless sleep. Her slumber was filled with a nightmarish dream of a hungry dragon circling slowly above her. She was helpless. She was chained to the stone platform at the sacrificial altar not able to move. She was nude with her arms pulled tight above her head. Sikes was standing there leering at her, his eyes focused hungrily on her nude body. She woke up shuddering. The dream seemed so real! Dresdia lay there, her eyes wide, afraid to go back to sleep lest the terrible dream return.

-

Jalene sat in her home, the scepter containing the Stone of Loraine held loosely in her right hand, its baleful red glow illuminating the room. “Tomorrow night, Gilmreth,” she whispered softly, as she looked off in the direction of Firestorm Mountain. “After the sacrifices tomorrow night nothing will stand in our way.” Jalene closed her eyes, the scepter lying across her lap. In just a few moments, she fell into a dreamless slumber.

-

In the temple, Adam stood in his quarters, staring out toward Jalene’s home. He could see the fading red glow on her balcony and in the windows of the second floor. “Enjoy your power for now, little one,” he said coldly, his eyes narrowing. “The time has come for the revelation of all secrets.” Adam turned away from the window as he had one more round to make before retiring.

-

The next night, Dresdia sat nervously in her cell, her hands clenched tightly in her lap, awaiting the coming of the priests and temple guards. Twice that day, they had brought her something to eat and drink, and both times Dresdia had refused to eat anything and only taken a few small sips of water. She’d heard too many stories from the guards and priests during the day telling how suitable candidates went to the dragon willingly, that it was a privilege to be chosen to become one with the great dragon. The red robed priest Baelen had been most insistent about how it was a high honor to be chosen. She suspected some drug was in the food or water, which caused the sacrifices to act as they did. She wanted her wits about her when she faced Gilmreth.

Dresdia shivered, recalling her nightmare from the previous night. If Lynol didn’t make it in time, then tonight would be the culmination of all of her nightmares from recent years. Ever since finding the sacrificial altar at the base of Firestorm Mountain she’d been having nightmares about Gilmreth. On numerous nights, she would awaken in a cold sweat from some dreadful nightmare about the dragon. Perhaps in some way she had always known that her destiny was to end up as a sacrifice to Gilmreth.

Standing up, she walked over to the small open window that let in the cool night breeze. Iron bars prevented any hope of escape, but that wasn’t what Dresdia wanted. Looking out the window, she gazed down upon the rapidly growing crowd in the huge temple square. Already thousands of people were gathered and more were arriving by the minute. She could hear a scattering of voices from the crowd.

Torches and large burning braziers cast an eerie yellowish red glow over the city. Even from her cell, she could hear popping noises from the numerous torches scattered everywhere. Dresdia tried to see faces in the crowd, searching for a sign of Lynol or her father, but she was too far up and couldn’t distinguish individuals in the teeming crowd. Surely they would be here in time! They had to be!

“Worried, my dear?” a sneering cold voice spoke from the door of her cell.

Instantly her body tensed and her eyes narrowed. Taking a deep breath, Dresdia turned around to see Jalene, dressed in a black flowing gown trimmed in red, staring contemptuously at her. “Do you really think you control Gilmreth?” responded Dresdia, walking over to stand in front of Jalene, looking at her through the iron bars and trying to hold her fear in check. It was all she could do to stop herself from trembling.

“The dragon is mine!” responded Jalene, scowling. “You will learn that soon enough.”

“What will you do when the dragon turns on you?” Dresdia asked. “It shall, you know; it’s only a matter of time. Not even the great sorcerers of the Golden Age could control Gilmreth!” Dresdia tried to remember some of the stories her father and Lynol had told her. Maybe she could give this woman doubts about the dragon and buy some extra time until Lynol arrived. She had to be close by now.

Jalene’s face grew briefly angry and then she regained control of herself, stepping up next to the cell door and staring hotly at Dresdia. “Perhaps,” replied Jalene, meeting Dresdia’s defiant stare. “But you will face the dragon first, and you will feel what it’s like to become one with the dragon as your life energy is slowly drained from your pitiful body. As long as I have sacrifices like you, I will be quite safe from Gilmreth and he will continue to obey my commands; never doubt that for an instant!”

“No one can control Gilmreth,” Dresdia repeated firmly, shaking her head slowly and forcing her eyes up to meet Jalene’s eyes. “He is your doom, and someday he will turn on you!”

“Quiet, Sylvar!” Jalene snapped with anger in her voice, her eyes turning to ice in the glare she gave this impudent young woman. “The dragon will obey me. Haven’t I already demonstrated my control? You saw the city I’ve built, you’ve seen how everyone obeys me, and my control is absolute. No one or anything can threaten me, least of all a powerless woman like yourself!”

Dresdia stared at Jalene. The woman was insane, and she didn’t even recognize her own danger. Her tone of voice made Dresdia’s blood run cold. “The night isn’t over yet,” she replied, forcing herself to sound unconcerned. “Perhaps things won’t turn out quite as you have planned. After all, I understand Gilmreth was supposed to have attacked Galvin and instead the dragon attacked Handon’s Ferry. The dragon has already disobeyed you once, perhaps it will again. Maybe you’re not quite as all powerful or in control as you think!”

“What do you know about that?” demanded Jalene, glaring at the girl who stood defiantly before her. One of the temple guards must have talked. Par and Sikes would have to be spoken to. The dragon’s failure to attack Galvin as ordered wasn’t to be spoken of publicly. Also, what was this about Handon’s Ferry? What did this girl know?

Dresdia only stared back, her emerald green eyes meeting Jalene’s before turning away. “You didn’t know, did you? You didn’t know that the dragon attacked Handon’s Ferry instead of Galvin?”

“It doesn’t matter,” answered Jalene, frowning at the girl and wondering why the dragon had attacked a different village. Why had it avoided Galvin? It made Jalene feel uncomfortably nervous. “After the sacrifice tonight the dragon will be completely under my control; everyone will see that.”

“Perhaps,” replied Dresdia, trying to sound as unconcerned as possible about the dragon. “But the night’s not over, the dragon may have yet another surprise for you.”

Jalene scowled at Dresdia before whirling around and marching furiously down the hall. “We’ll see, Sylvar,” Jalene muttered angrily as she vanished from sight.

Dresdia let out a deep breath. It took all of her control to prevent herself from shivering violently. She had nearly panicked when she’d recognized Jalene standing outside her cell. Dresdia was scared to death the sorceress would see through her masquerade and realize she wasn’t Lynol. She was trying so hard to act brave as Lynol would have. If only Kalvin could see her, he would be amazed. Dresdia just prayed she would get to see them all again.

Sitting back down on the small, hard bed, Dresdia stared down at the white silk robe she had been forced to put on. It was either wear this or the guards would drag her up on the temple platform nude. Baelen had made that very plain. Dresdia had almost told the priest that she would go nude, but she had to believe that Lynol and her father would make it in time. She couldn’t quit hoping. She had to stay strong until the very end. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes, picturing her father, mother, and brother. Hurry, Lynol, she thought; please hurry!

-

Lynol, Damon, and Aldin had already entered the city. They were carefully threading their way through the streets following the growing crowds moving toward the temple. Looking around, Lynol couldn’t believe what Jalene had accomplished in Draydon; everything was so new and utterly clean. Massive columns of stone adorned the buildings, statues of Gilmreth stood on the corners and in the small squares. It was almost like a city from the Golden Age.

“The work done here is unbelievable,” Damon spoke quietly, glancing around at everything in amazement. He knew that it’d been done by slave labor. Work or die; some choice! They’d heard a lot about the construction going on in Draydon, but Damon had never imagined anything like this and on this scale.

“I hope Dresdia is still unharmed,” Aldin said worriedly, warily watching a couple of temple guards passing across the street in front of them. He was growing impatient. He wanted to get to the temple and rescue Dresdia as quickly as possible.

Guards and priests had been very evident ever since they’d entered Draydon. It was obvious that Jalene kept a strict watch on the city. Aldin was terribly worried about Dresdia. The trip to Draydon had seemed to take forever. He prayed that nothing bad had happened to her.

“I can sense her in the temple,” Lynol replied at last, staring intently ahead. “She’s frightened, but otherwise she seems fine. I don’t dare use my sorcery to tell her we’re here lest Jalene detects its use.”

Lynol didn’t reveal the real reason why she was so reluctant to use her sorcery this close to the temple. If Daes was really Adam Grayson, then he might be able to detect her presence as well. He was the unknown in all of this. She was worried that he might be able to detect her even without her use of sorcery. After all, he was a sorcerer from the Golden Age. Who knew what he might be capable of? Lynol just hoped he was too busy getting ready for the sacrifices to take notice.

She knew the task in front of her would be very difficult. If she had to face Jalene, Adam, and Gilmreth, it might be insurmountable. She had no other choice but to hope she was ready and forge ahead. All of their lives depended on it. Lynol felt as if the weight of the world was resting heavily upon her shoulders.

“The temple is just ahead,” Aldin said as they stepped around a corner that opened up into the crowded main square.

The three stopped, staring at the massive white stone temple in amazement. It was lit by hundreds of burning torches and braziers. An ominous flickering yellow and red glow seemed to play nebulously over its white stone surface. The temple dominated everything around it. High above them on the edge of the temple platform, four massive stone dragons with glowing red eyes stared threateningly out over the growing crowd. It seemed as if they were keeping a cold, vigilant watch on the shuffling crowd below.

“My God, the woman must be mad to have built this!” said Damon, staring with incredulity at everything about them. His eyes coming to a rest on the massive temple that dominated the landscape, realizing the enormity of what had been done just to construct such a structure.

“She has worked these people like slaves. That’s the only way she could have done all of this,” commented Aldin, gazing at the temple, wondering where inside the massive structure Dresdia was being held.

He knew that Dresdia had to be scared to death. They had to get to her as quickly as possible. She had always been frightened of Gilmreth. He could well imagine how scared she must be at this very moment.

“We need to be careful,” Damon warned in a quiet, cautious voice, his eyes looking about examining the people around them. “There are a lot of Jalene’s priests and guards mixed in with this crowd.”

“We need to get to Dresdia,” urged Aldin, gazing up at the temple. He didn’t know how much more time they had, but he knew from the growing crowd it couldn’t be a lot.

Lynol stared at the temple knowing what was soon to transpire. That she was going to have to face both Jalene and Gilmreth at the same time there was little doubt. Also possibly Adam Grayson, if he was indeed Storn Daes. She just hoped she was ready and that all of her training had prepared her for what must be done tonight.

“We need to get inside the temple,” Lynol said in a low voice, glancing at her father and Aldin. Looking at the crowd, she knew it was going to be difficult to push through the mass of people between them and the temple. “We can’t attract anyone’s attention.” Lynol’s hand went instinctively to where her amulet rested under her blouse. She hoped her mother’s amulet would serve her well; that she could fulfill her mother’s wishes.

Looking carefully about, she could see numerous temple guards and priests roaming through the crowd making sure order was kept. “I’ll weave a minor spell that will make us inconspicuous; perhaps Jalene won’t notice. Stay close to me. We don’t have a lot of time.”

Lynol hated the necessity of weaving the spell, but she knew she had no choice. It was such a weak spell it might remain undetected. At least she hoped it would. It wouldn’t make them invisible, but no one that looked at them would take notice. Lynol wasn’t concerned about Jalene detecting her use of sorcery. She was worried about Grayson. The sorcerer from the Golden Age would be able to detect her use of sorcery much better than Jalene. Lynol just hoped he wasn’t paying that much attention to the crowd and that it had never occurred to him that someone else might have sorcery powers and try to rescue the captives from Galvin.

Lynol’s fingers flickered through a rapid series of movements, and to the crowd as they made their way through it they ceased to exist. It took them longer than Lynol wanted to reach the temple. Everyone was standing so close together it was difficult for the three of them to make their way through the crowd. As they grew closer, it was necessary to push through people, almost having to force a path toward the temple. It was all Lynol could do to keep her spell intact. Irate people would look at them and then seem to forget what had just happened.

Looking up, she could see priests dressed in red gathering at the top of the temple platform. Very soon, Gilmreth would be arriving. She knew by now Dresdia had to be scared to death, wondering if they were going to make it in time. Lynol desperately wanted to use her abilities to let Dresdia know they were here, but a spell that powerful used this close to the temple would almost surely alert both Jalene and Grayson.

Lynol wondered how she would ever repay Dresdia for the horror she had put herself through. They didn’t have a lot of time. Don’t worry Dresdia, Lynol thought determinedly, I’m coming, I won’t let them harm you. At last, they reached the temple itself and slipped inside the heavily guarded entrance, Lynol’s spell allowing them to pass by the heavily armed guards unnoticed and unchallenged.

“Now what?” asked Aldin, breathing a sigh of relief after passing in front of the watching guards, looking around the massive hallway they had entered. Other hallways and rooms branched off to the sides. “We need to get to the top of the temple.” Aldin was beginning to become even more concerned for Dresdia’s safety. This was taking too long. They hadn’t counted on the huge crowd and the time needed to pass through it. “We need to find Dresdia quickly before Gilmreth gets here!”

“Follow me,” said Lynol, starting down the hallway. Lynol searched for and found a small, vacant room. “Wait here, I want to change into my sorceress clothing.”

“Do we have time for that?” asked Aldin, wanting to reach Dresdia as quickly as possible. He was getting impatient. Gilmreth could be here at any moment!

“I want every advantage I can when I face Jalene,” replied Lynol, knowing Aldin wanted to hurry. “It won’t take but a minute.”

She wanted to look as imposing as possible when she faced Jalene. Anything that might startle the sorceress for an instant might give Lynol the edge she needed. Lynol hurriedly pulled the small backpack off her shoulders that contained her sorceress clothes. Rapidly stripping, Lynol quickly changed.

Going back into the hallway, Lynol used a very weak spell to examine the temple, and after a moment she found a way that would allow them to reach the temple platform. She just hoped no one had noticed her use of sorcery inside the temple. They were running out of time and it was necessary for her to take some calculated risks. “Follow me,” she said, finding the stairs that led to the temple platform far above them.

Going down the hallway, Lynol stopped as they reached the stairs. Two heavily armed guards stood threateningly at the entrance. Weaving a quick spell, two blue beams of light flashed out from her amulet, striking the two guards. They collapsed to the floor, knocked unconscious. The time for caution was gone, they needed to hurry!

“Was that safe to do?” Damon asked, concerned, knowing that Lynol hadn’t wanted to use her sorcery in the temple.

“I don’t know, but we’re running out of time!” Lynol knew that what she had just done could very well have alerted both Jalene and Adam to her presence. “We need to get to the top quickly; follow me.”

As they started up the stairs, they heard a roar from the crowd outside followed by an unearthly foreboding silence. She knew with growing apprehension that something must be going on at the top of the temple. Lynol suspected it involved Gilmreth.

-

Jalene stood at the edge of the temple platform, taking her customary place above the crowd. Storn Daes joined her, standing slightly behind the sorceress, his face wearing its normal emotionless mask. Glancing at Storn, Jalene felt uneasy. The man seemed so confident, so sure of himself. What did he know that she could possibly be overlooking? She would see how calm Storn was when the dragon slowly drained the life energy from him. Tonight Storn would meet his end!

A windless hush surrounded the temple as the crowd saw Jalene standing commandingly above them. The moon above the temple shone weakly overhead under a canopy of brilliant stars. Everyone focused his or her attention on the woman in black who had held their lives in the palm of her hand for what seemed like many long years. They were waiting expectantly to hear her words and for the ceremony to begin.

Jalene looked at the packed crowds in the huge square and people jammed onto the roofs of the massive buildings that faced the temple. There were also people within the tall towers that ringed the square. Even the wide streets leading to the temple were packed as far as her eyes could see.

“People of Draydon,” her voice rang out clearly, coldly, and with authority. “Tonight we offer our greatest sacrifice ever to the dragon, a member of an ancient family that was an enemy of the dragon who many long centuries ago inflicted much pain upon the great dragon Gilmreth!”

An excited buzzing noise began coming from the crowd; an animated stirring as they realized that tonight’s sacrifice was going to be different. Numerous tables piled high with enticing food in front of the temple bore quick testimony to that. Many young boys, clad in simple temple garb, turned whole calves on spits as well as sheep and pigs along a great bank of burning fires.

This would be a feast such as the city had never seen before. Kegs of ale and fine wines were piled high on wagons setting next to the tables. The celebration for this sacrifice would last far into the night. While most of the people hated the sacrifices, they had come to accept them as a way of life; a way of survival. No one dared oppose Jalene or the dragon.

The enticing food, the threats of the guards, and the priests had made the people realize that it was easier to sound supportive of Jalene during the sacrifices than to oppose her. To say something a priest or guard might overhear was tantamount to inviting disaster and drawing attention to oneself. A dissenting voice could easily result in that individual being sacrificed to the dragon.

“A member of this very family was responsible for placing the great dragon into a deep sleep for over a thousand years.” Taking a deep breath, Jalene looked out over the hushed crowd she held spellbound listening to her every word. “Tonight we sacrifice the last daughter of the Sylvar family! We offer as a sacrifice Lynol Sylvar, last of the great Sylvar line, direct descendent of Malcon Sylvar, the sorcerer who placed Gilmreth into his long captive sleep!”

A loud roar erupted from the crowd of excitement, anticipation, and dread. Even in Draydon and some of the surrounding villages, the name Malcon Sylvar was legendary, as was the name of Gilmreth, both passed down through the generations in fables. The power that Jalene projected held the massive crowd enthralled, her own excitement spilling over into the waiting expectant multitude.

Taking up the Stone of Loraine, Jalene raised the scepter up high into the night air, concentrating. A red nebulous glow built up around the temple. The stone dragons on the edge of the temple platform seemed to take on a life of their own, their eyes glowing with an inner, lambent fire.

Silence erupted from the crowd as they saw the pulsing red radiance. They knew the significance of what it implied and the foul creature that was being summoned.

Off to the side, Adam Grayson watched with a satisfied smile on his face as the final part of his plan fell into place. The great base drums on the temple began to beat; sounding out their soulful cadence like a mighty heartbeat.

-

In far off Firestorm Mountain, Gilmreth stirred as he sensed the urgent summons. The promise of sacrifice and a special feeding roused the dragon to sluggish wakefulness. He was still satiated from his previous feeding of a few nights back, but the promise of a waiting sacrifice enticed the dragon. His yellowish red eyes peering through the gloom, Gilmreth took to wing and flew down the long, silent tunnel. In moments, he launched himself into the dark night sky with powerful beats of his wings, flying unerringly toward the distant temple and his waiting victims.

-

Jalene was satisfied Gilmreth was coming. The steady drumbeat now thrust its deathly cadence over the waiting crowd as the nervous excitement rapidly began to build. The square throbbed with a cacophony of excited and expectant voices.

Baelen appeared at the top of the steps, leading the temple priests and guards bringing the sacrifices to the top of the temple platform; four young, innocent women and Lynol Sylvar! Jalene smiled inwardly as she saw the Sylvar woman appear last, a look of unbridled defiance still upon her face. None of the women had been drugged for tonight’s ritual sacrifice. She wanted the Sylvar woman to realize the full horror that faced her as the others were sacrificed first. Jalene wanted to hear her scream in terror before Gilmreth consumed her.

Jalene’s eyes glazed over with anticipation as her excitement of what was about to transpire rose. Just the thought of how intense the mind link with Gilmreth would be tonight made her shiver in wanton anticipation. For once Jalene would indulge. She would enjoy the link throughout all the sacrifices, including Storn’s. He would be the final sacrifice. Tonight she would become one with the dragon in mind and soul!

The drum continued to beat steadily as the crowd looked up expectantly into the dark night sky. For long minutes they waited, looking for a sign from the approaching dragon. A bright red flame and angry monstrous roar suddenly split the night air far above them. Gilmreth had arrived! The crowd erupted with cries of anticipation and trepidation with the arrival of the dragon.

Upon the temple platform, Adam Grayson watched the coming of the dragon, looking with a secretive, satisfied smile of completion at Jalene. Soon my dear, he thought, you will indeed know what it means to become one with the dragon. Your life will come full circle. Watching the dragon approach, Adam began mentally to prepare. Unseen by Jalene, Adam’s fingers began weaving a complicated pattern in the air at his side. Red spectral fire seemed to dance ominously at his fingertips. He waited with growing expectancy.

With a loud roar, the dragon spread his wings wide, landing in a rush of cold wind upon the center of the temple platform. A sudden silence filled the air as the drums stopped, and the anxious crowd held its collective breath.

Turning, Jalene looked expectantly at the dragon and then glanced over at Storn. Jalene’s cold smile vanished from her face and the night air seemed to take on a deadly foreboding chill. The man wore a wolfish grin of satisfaction. A merciless laugh came from deep within his throat, which echoed clearly across the platform. To Jalene it was an open challenge to her authority, to her power. This was something she hadn’t expected.

Flushing with anger, Jalene raised the glowing scepter threateningly. It was the symbol of her power. It was the Stone of Loraine! The greatest amulet from the Golden Age glowed heatedly red in her hand as she stared angrily at Storn. He would be on the receiving end of its awesome power.

Jalene’s eyes narrowed. The priest stood mockingly before her, unafraid. How dare he challenge her tonight! Tonight of all nights, Jalene thought, her anger turning crimson. It was finally time for Storn to pay the ultimate price, for him to become one with the dragon. She would sacrifice Storn first and then the girls. Yes, Storn would quickly know the full wrath of her anger.

“You dare to challenge me now!” Jalene cried angrily, her voice rising. “For your blasphemy you shall face Gilmreth!”

Her fingers began to move rapidly as she formed a spell to compel Storn to go to the dragon. It was time for him to die; to be sacrificed. She cast the spell and stood shocked as Storn just stood there, a cold laugh passing his lips. The red glow surrounded him and then faded, having no effect. Her greatest fear had been realized. Her sorcery was powerless against Storn!

“You weak brained fool,” Storn said contemptuously, raising his right hand and gesturing toward the Stone of Loraine. “Did you really think your sorcery would work on me?”

With utter shock, Jalene felt the scepter ripped from her hand, flying unerringly into Daes’s. “No!” she screamed, her eyes red with rage and fear growing deep within her. “You can’t be doing this! Who are you?”

“You should know,” Storn replied coldly, an evil smirk on his face.

“I am the only sorcerer, there is no other!” The bitterness and rampant rage in Jalene’s voice echoed across the temple platform.

“No, you’re not,” replied Storn, shaking his head slightly and gazing scornfully at Jalene.

A look of bewilderment slowly spread across her face as she gazed at Storn and the Stone of Loraine, which he now held so confidently. Jalene’s hands dropped to her side as she stared at him, her mind in turmoil. She knew that without the Stone of Loraine she couldn’t control Gilmreth. She glanced at the dragon, noticing his eyes were focused on her!

Baelen and the other priests stood shocked, surprised, and frightened by the sudden power struggle between Daes and Jalene. Daes now held Jalene’s scepter! The priests stepped back, unsure of what was unfolding before them. They didn’t want to be caught in the crossfire between the two. How was Daes managing to stand up to the sorceress? Why did Jalene seem suddenly impotent, not able to control the High Priest?

The crowd below them had become utterly quiet. Jalene’s High Priest was challenging the woman that had so cruelly ruled them for the past few years. Word quickly passed through the crowd.

Adam stood silently, a demonic smile upon his cruel face, pointing the scepter at Jalene. A fiery red glow suddenly surrounded her. Her body began moving in jerking steps as she crossed the temple platform. She moved slowly, almost mechanically, toward the waiting dragon.

“Now you shall know what you have sent so many other innocents to,” Storn said without a trace of remorse or mercy in his voice.

With all of her power, she tried to resist the spell she was under. She fought each step, breathing in agony, a roaring fire burning in her mind. She tried different spells; all were useless. How was Storn doing this? How could he command the Stone of Loraine? With horrifying, dawning comprehension, she realized just how he had manipulated everything, how she had been used. He was a sorcerer! A much stronger sorcerer than she could ever have hoped to be. Now, at the end, she realized how she’d been duped, how the man had played her and taken advantage of her.

With final desperation, Jalene tried to influence Gilmreth with her mind, to link with the dragon, but to no avail. Without the Stone of Loraine to focus her sorcery, she couldn’t interact with him. The dragon’s mind was blocked, sealed off from her commands. She couldn’t establish the necessary mind link. Storn hadn’t missed anything. Her own powers were too weak to break the powerful spell she was under.

Looking up, she saw Gilmreth’s yellowish red eyes staring down malevolently into hers. The dragon’s mouth was open, his razor sharp teeth ready to tear her body to shreds and drink the life force from her. Gilmreth’s foul acrid breath spread about her. With a sudden understanding, Jalene realized she’d never controlled the dragon. The dragon had only used her for its own ends, just as Storn had! Jalene felt all of her plans and all of her dreams come crashing down around her.

“Goodbye, Jalene,” Adam said smugly, his eyes laughing mockingly. “Now you will see what it means to become one with the dragon. You should never have stayed a virgin.”

“Who are you?” she screamed desperately, her eyes narrowing to slits of black fury at her helplessness. “Why are you doing this? How are you doing this?”

A cruel, calculating smile split the face of Adam. “Haven’t you guessed, little one? I’m your father. I’m the one who raped your mother and set you upon this path so many long years ago. I’m the one you inherited your sorcery from.”

For a moment, a stab of anger against fate made Jalene clench her teeth. Strength drained from her body as the horror of her childhood came roaring down upon her. Gasps of agony racked her as the dreadful memories flooded uncontrollably back. Childhood memories of beatings, hunger, guilt, and hatred until she was reduced to moaning mindlessly like an animal. She collapsed in shock to the hard stone of the temple platform, her body twitching uncontrollably. Weakly, her eyes glazing over, she stared at Storn. “Father?” she mumbled incoherently, her mind finally going.

With an emotionless nod, Adam looked up at the dragon. “You may feed now,” he commanded softly, the Stone of Loraine glowing brightly in his hand and its red glow playing over the dragon.

Gilmreth’s massive head lowered as he folded his wings about his victim. There was no scream, no pleading for mercy, as Gilmreth’s teeth tore into Jalene. For long moments, the dragon fed upon his victim, draining the sweet, enticing energy from Jalene’s body. To Gilmreth the feeding was extremely powerful and alluring. This was his revenge for the pain he had suffered, the pain she had caused!

Adam looked around the temple platform. Everyone was quiet; stunned! The priests remained motionless.

Baelen stood with the captives, his mouth open in bewildered, frightened shock. No one understood what just happened. He was the first to realize that Daes was now their new leader. Jalene was gone!

The people in the square and upon the buildings began to murmur as they realized what Daes had done. The dignitaries in the lofty towers had seen the entire event unfold clearly. Already, word was being passed rapidly in the street. Jalene was gone, sacrificed unexpectedly to Gilmreth by the High Priest. How had he overcome Jalene? Even now, he held her glowing scepter of power in his hands. What could they expect from their new ruler? Everyone waited expectantly, nervously.

“People of Draydon,” Adam’s voice rang out like iron. “I am your new ruler. I and I alone now command the dragon. The sacrifices shall continue.” Turning, Adam saw satisfyingly that Gilmreth was through with Jalene. All that remained was an insignificant red smear marring the perfect white stone.

Motioning toward the guards, the Sylvar woman was brought forward. In moments, she was shackled to the temple platform beneath the waiting dragon. Adam would sacrifice the blonde first, followed by the others immediately afterward. He would finally have his long awaited revenge on Jason Sylvar.

Adam walked slowly over to the dragon to stare up unafraid into its waiting eyes. “Hello, old friend,” he spoke softly, projecting his thoughts and commands clearly into the dragon’s mind. You are now mine to command, as you have always been. The Stone of Loraine has finally become powerful enough that even you can’t resist.”

In Gilmreth’s mind he remembered earlier times, ones almost lost in antiquity, times in the underground lair when Gilmreth was young, when this man, much younger then, had stood outside his lair looking in.

“Now, Lynol Sylvar,” spoke Adam, turning his attention to the woman shackled to the stone platform before him. “Your family long ago prevented my ascension to power during the Golden Age. Jason Sylvar himself forced me into hiding. Now my revenge against your family will be complete. With your sacrifice, Gilmreth will be mine to command forever! The great and mighty Sylvars will be no more!” Adam raised the Stone of Loraine high above his head, its ruby red light beginning to glow brightly, the entire temple platform glowing in a bright red radiance, the guards and priests bowing down to their new leader.

Dresdia looked up terrified at the dragon; she realized that Lynol hadn’t made it. She fought down panic, a hollow feeling of fear as she gazed up into the ghastly eyes of the dragon. Oh God, she thought in panic as she realized she was about to die. Let it be quick! Her greatest nightmare was about to happen. The dreams she’d suffered through night after night, dreams of a deadly dragon and her as a sacrifice to it were about to come true. She closed her eyes and awaited her death.

A brilliant light suddenly turned the world blue-white for an instant, and thunder roared so close it seemed simultaneous. The noise shook the air. A massive bolt of blue-white lightning struck Gilmreth in the side, knocking the dragon back away from Dresdia. An enormous shockwave slammed into everyone, hammering them, blasting away at the temple. Dresdia and Adam were flung painfully to the hard, unyielding white stone of the temple platform.

Shaking her head trying to clear her mind of the pain, Dresdia opened her eyes and raised her head to see Lynol, Damon, and her father standing at the entrance to the temple platform, the guards and priests unconscious at their feet. The other captives were hurriedly vanishing down the stone stairs. Dresdia allowed herself to feel hope; Lynol had arrived! She’d come to rescue her! But who was the man who’d conquered Jalene and then sacrificed her to the dragon? She didn’t understand what was going on.

From Lynol’s outstretched hands, another bolt of blue-white lightning reached out to strike Gilmreth on the chest. Again, the night sky turned into intolerable glare as a second bolt detonated against the dragon’s left wing, blasting the city of Draydon with unbearable light. The second shock wave hit, knocking everyone else on the platform to the hard stone surface. Lynol was drawing the power for the lightning directly from her amulet and not from a storm.

Screams could be heard from the frightened people in the streets as the noise and light blasted above them. One of the stone dragons broke loose and fell to the ground far below, shattering. The crowd in the square tried to move back away from the temple to get out of harm’s way.

With a roar of pain and rage, the dragon leaped into the air, trying to escape its deadly tormentor. Gilmreth recognized the woman as his attacker from several nights before. Never had the dragon felt such acute pain! Gilmreth beat his wings savagely trying to rise high enough into the air so he could turn and blast the temple with dragon fire. Before he could turn, another massive blue-white bolt reached out and struck his back between his wings, followed almost instantly by another. With a cry of anger and frustration, the dragon turned and flew off toward Firestorm Mountain and the deep safety of his lair.

Adam pulled himself painfully back to his feet, feeling stunned and confused. He glanced upward at the fleeing dragon. Someone had used sorcery against the dragon; extraordinarily powerful sorcery. Adam turned angrily, looking at the apparition in front of him, his eyes widening in utter amazement.

A young woman dressed in a white blouse trimmed in blue with a short blue cape hanging from her shoulders stood before him. The glowing blue amulet nestled between her breasts proved she was a sorceress. All of his guards and priests who had been close to her now lay unconscious on the cold stone of the temple platform. The rest had been knocked down by the powerful blasts from the woman’s lightning. Two other older men stood behind her with grim determined faces staring toward him.

“Cathy Matheson,” Adam uttered amazed, as Lynol turned to face him and he saw her face clearly. The recognition was immediate. With dawning comprehension and gathering his composure, he continued. “You too were in stasis. Jason must have put you to sleep just in case I escaped! Amazing that he could have had such foresight. I thought I’d covered my tracks better.”

Several times earlier tonight, before the sacrifices were to start Adam thought he had felt someone casting weak spells. He’d assumed it was Jalene and hadn’t been concerned. Now he realized he should have been more on guard. He’d made a careless, overconfident mistake!

“I’m not Cathy Matheson, Adam,” replied Lynol, correcting him, letting his name roll off her tongue so there would be no doubt that she knew who he was. There was no question that the man before her was indeed Adam Grayson. Only Adam could have possessed the power to so easily overcome Jalene and sacrifice her to Gilmreth.

They’d watched it all from the stairs, which opened up onto the platform just out of sight as the entire scene unfolded before them. Lynol had hoped she wouldn’t come face to face with Adam. She now knew that Daes was indeed the deadly sorcerer spoken of in her mother’s diary. She wondered worriedly if she had the strength to stand up to a sorcerer from the Golden Age. He had vanquished Jalene seemingly without effort. How powerful was he? Her gaze wandered over to Dresdia, who was struggling to sit up. She couldn’t let Dresdia down; not after everything she’d been through!

“Cathy was my mother, and yes, Jason suspected that you survived,” Lynol replied warily, keeping a cautious eye on Adam. “I’m here to end what you began so many distant years ago. You caused the Worldfire and I will not allow you to bring it back. Your reign ends tonight!”

Adam was silent, carefully measuring his opponent. The blue crystal she wore made him feel extremely uneasy. It had all the signs of Lorain’s handiwork. Could it possibly be stronger than the Stone of Loraine, and just how much did Cathy Matheson’s daughter actually know about sorcery? He’d been taught by the best. He knew much of the science from that nearly forgotten time. Surely she couldn’t be more powerful than he; after all, he’d been the most powerful of the original group.

He remembered Cathy had been several years younger than he was and almost as strong in her skills toward the end. If this was truly her daughter, then where was Cathy? Was she hiding in the shadows, biding her time to strike? Was it both of them he had to face? He had to assume this young woman had been well trained or she wouldn’t be standing here before him. He didn’t like surprises. He needed more information.

“So you’re Cathy Matheson’s daughter,” he said softly, measuring his words and looking for any sign of weakness. The resemblance was uncanny. There was no doubt this young woman was telling the truth. If she was indeed Cathy’s daughter, then he had to assume that Cathy had trained her, and if she had then this young woman could be extremely powerful indeed. He wondered just how powerful her abilities were. “Where is Cathy?”

“That’s no concern of yours,” answered Lynol, keeping a watchful eye on Grayson. She knew that he was stalling, trying to find out just how much she knew.

“We could rule together,” he offered at last, exploring his options and trying to learn more. “With what I know of the science of the Golden Age we could turn this world into a utopia. Just look at the city around us. There is equipment in the underground complex we would have access to, and science and technology this world hasn’t seen in nearly three thousand years. You could sit at my side and rule as my queen. No one could resist us. The world would be ours to shape as we see fit!”

“I’m afraid not, Grayson,” refused Lynol, shaking her head, her left hand moving to grasp her amulet. “You caused the world to be destroyed once before. Billions of innocent people died because of you, and the dragons were driven insane. You destroyed the dream of your generation, the creation of a beautiful, peaceful world where sorcery could be used to help humanity.”

“They didn’t understand,” Adam replied, his eyes narrowing as he realized this girl knew what had happened. “If they would have listened, no one would have died.”

“But they did die, Adam,” replied Lynol, shaking her head. “There can be no future in a world in which you exist. Look at all the harm you have done here in Draydon! Jalene, Gilmreth, this temple, it’s insane! The people who have died or have been sacrificed to Gilmreth! It’s time you were brought to justice for bringing the Worldfire and what you’ve done to these people. Your crimes against humanity must be paid. Your lust for power ended!”

Adam stood quietly for a moment, eyeing the young woman, thoughtfully weighing his options. Her words meant little to him, other than to show that she was highly knowledgeable about what had happened in his younger days. “I was very young and naïve then,” Adam replied in a calm voice.

“That’s no excuse for what you did,” Lynol countered.

“I seriously underestimated the reaction from our government,” Adam replied with a scowl spreading across his face, remembering the past. “I didn’t realize how opposed many in the government had been to the project from the very beginning. Some considered us an abomination, something that needed to be wiped out. I couldn’t allow that!”

“Jason and my mother would never have allowed that to happen,” Lynol responded in a clear voice. “They would have protected those in the complex; something could have been worked out. But you didn’t give them the chance!”

Adam briefly pondered this young woman’s words. Cathy had told her daughter much of what had occurred. She could indeed be a formidable opponent. She’d already demonstrated her power against Gilmreth. The massive bolts of blue-white lightning she had cast at the dragon were most impressive. Nearly as powerful as what he could have done; maybe even more so.

“You should have listened to Jason,” Lynol continued. “He tried to get you to stop your rebellion.”

"No, eventually he would have given in to the government,” replied Adam, recalling those days long ago. “I couldn’t live like that. We weren’t destined to have our powers denied!”

“So you killed the world you knew!” Lynol stated grimly, her left hand touching her amulet, feeling its comforting warmth and hidden power.

“They could have given in to our demands,” Adam stated with a chill in his voice. “They could have let us live in peace in the area around the mountain.”

“It ends tonight, Adam,” Lynol responded, her light blue eyes meeting Adam’s dark blue ones. She hoped she had the strength for what was coming. She knew Adam would never surrender.

“Do you actually think that you can stand up against me?” his voice growled, caressed, and burned hotter than flame. “Not even the greatest sorcerers of the Golden Age itself could defeat me. I am not a naive young boy any longer. The years have brought maturity and knowledge. You can’t defeat me. Join me or you will die on this platform, on this temple where you now stand!”

“No, Adam, I will never join you. Your evil must be stopped!” replied Lynol, fortifying herself for the conflict she knew was about to come. Mentally she connected with her amulet as her mother’s diary had taught her. She became one with her crystal as she felt its power flow into her.

With a suddenness that almost surprised Lynol, Adam struck and a fierce bolt of red lightning leaped toward her. It exploded harmlessly in front of her, stopped by a beam of radiant blue light from her own crystal. Lynol launched her own lightning toward Grayson, the blue-white bolt exploding harmlessly as it was met by a fiery red beam from the Stone of Loraine.

This duel would be fought between her blue crystal amulet and the Stone of Loraine. The two most powerful amulets ever created by man would determine mankind’s future. Three powerful bolts of red lightning struck beside Lynol in rapid succession, each deflected by her crystal. The temple platform shook from the force of the massive bolts. Cracks appeared in the stone. The air itself seemed to burn from the passage of the lightning.

“Join me!” cried Grayson, concentrating, his face turning dark. “It makes no sense for us to fight one another. We are the only ones that know the real truth, the only ones that can bring back the Golden Age! The only ones that know about the complex beneath Firestorm Mountain and what it contains!”

You don’t know everything about the complex, Lynol thought. If Adam knew about the sleepers, they would be in deadly danger. Most of them had opposed Adam in the war, and he would doubtlessly deal harshly with them. No, he could never know about what actually lay hidden from him beneath Firestorm Mountain.

“No, Adam,” answered Lynol, shaking her head slightly. “Surrender and I will return you to stasis.”

“Never!” Adam roared in anger and defiance. “This is my world now, I created it and I will rule it!”

Lightning roared across the temple platform, brilliant red and blue-white bolts blasting across the night sky, illuminating the city, each powerful bolt met by its equal and opposite number. Upon the platform the two stood, their powers equally balanced. For long minutes, the amulets dueled their owners merely spectators to the awesome power being used.

The buildings in the city trembled beneath the mighty onslaught. Splinters of white stone began to break free and rain down upon the panicking crowd below. The young boys tending the fires broke and ran, leaving their charges to burn upon the spits unattended. A massive stone broke loose and fell into one of the fires, sending a shower of sparks and ashes high up into the night air.

Adam realized that his lightning wasn’t going to defeat this young sorceress of Cathy Matheson. She was much stronger than he’d dreamed possible. It had to be that damn blue amulet she was wearing, Lorain’s revenge reaching down through the ages to seek retribution for his use of the Stone of Loraine so long ago.

Reaching down into his memory, he called up an incantation that harnessed a truly powerful spell, one that he knew there was no defense against and hadn’t dared to use in ages past inside the great complex beneath Firestorm Mountain lest he bring down the entire mountain.

A dark ruby red beam flashed out from the Stone of Loraine to be met surprisingly by a brilliant blue one from Lynol’s crystal. The two powerful forces tugged and pushed against one another. A crackling, sparking noise crashed on top of the temple platform. The top of the temple took on a glow brighter than the afternoon sun. Cascades of blue and red energy flowed down from the platform.

The very foundation of the temple itself seemed to tremble. Massive stones cracked and rocked from the onslaught. Another of the stone dragons broke loose and fell upon the tables of food far below, crushing everything. It seemed as if the temple was about to cave in upon itself. Not since the Worldfire had such powerful forces been unleashed!

“This is your last chance; join with me, or die!” Adam growled, his face looking strained as he focused all his energy through the Stone of Loraine.

“I will never join you, Adam. It ends here and now!” responded Lynol, feeling her crystal grow fiery hot in the palm of her hand.

Her concentration and determination grew. She wouldn’t let her mother down! Lynol’s mother had believed she could defeat Grayson. Now she would prove her right! Lynol summoned up all of her inner strength, all of her will, all of her abilities. She focused her mind on her brightly glowing amulet, giving it everything she had. She took deep breaths trying to control her pounding heart.

On Adam’s face, a look of intense concentration and then doubt appeared. He hadn’t expected such powerful resistance from this woman’s crystal. The blue crystal was undoubtedly Loraine’s handiwork, perhaps even stronger than the Stone of Loraine. Adam’s thoughts raced, searching desperately for a weakness.

This last spell he’d flung at this young woman should have been unstoppable, but her crystal had stopped it cold! Adam focused on the Stone of Loraine, feeding all of his energy into it. He wouldn’t be defeated, not when he was so close to achieving all of his goals, not after all these years of careful, meticulous planning!

The glow from the Stone of Loraine intensified, becoming almost blinding. Lynol’s blue crystal became steadily brighter and brighter, pulsing in tune with her heartbeat. Another of the stone dragons atop the temple exploded in a shower of blue and red energy, shattered by the forces of the two crystals, sending stone fragments into the screaming, fleeing crowd below. Lynol’s blue light slowly began to push back Adam’s red. She could feel her crystal growing even hotter in her hand.

“You can’t be this strong,” Adam grunted through tight lips, his face a mirror of hard concentration, an appearance of uncertainty showing as he called forth all the power he could muster. “Nothing and no one should be able to resist this spell. I am the most powerful sorcerer ever to be born!”

“It must end, Adam,” Lynol spoke clearly, her face showing the strain. “Surrender and I'll put you back into stasis to await future judgment. You don’t have to die!” Lynol could feel the strain. The crystal was sapping her strength. She knew Adam had to be weakening also.

“Never!” growled Adam, his eyes taking on a wild look of desperation, seeing his plans shatter. The years of careful planning, the culminations of his dreams were becoming unraveled before his very eyes. There was no way he would return to stasis!

His thoughts turned to escape. He must get away from this girl and the amulet she wielded. That it had been designed to defeat him there could be no doubt. Adam knew if he remained much longer, he might very well be facing his own death! Judgment from the past was reaching out its ancient hand to touch him, to take away his long awaited victory. Damn you, Jason Sylvar, he thought angrily, glaring at the young woman standing before him.

A sudden loud crashing noise, a brilliant burst of blue light, and the Stone of Loraine died, its fiery red glow fading away. For a brief moment, Adam stared at the darkened stone in horrified shock. How could this have happened? Then it dawned on Adam; Loraine had specifically designed the other crystal to neutralize the Stone of Loraine!

At that instant, the full force of the blue crystal’s energy struck the unprotected sorcerer, covering his body in a bright blue radiance. A hollow angry, defiant scream echoed through the air. His eyes narrowed, fiercely gazing in desperation at Cathy Matheson’s daughter, a last desperate attempt at a new spell dying upon his fast moving fingertips.

With a bright flash of energy, Adam vanished. A final black scream, sounding almost inhuman, tore from Adam’s throat and echoed hauntingly across the platform. All that remained of the sorcerer from the Golden Age were blackened ashes floating down gently in the night air. They came to rest upon the temple platform, only to be blown away and dispersed by the cold night wind. The Stone of Loraine lay quiescently upon the cold stone of the temple platform where it had fallen, its ruby crystal extinguished, its intricate matrix once again shattered.

“It’s over,” Aldin breathed, his eyes wide, getting up from the stone floor of the platform where he had been knocked down, still not believing what he had just witnessed. With a sudden cry, he rushed over to Dresdia, who lay nearly unconscious upon the cold, unforgiving stone.

“Who was Cathy Matheson?” Damon asked, confused, standing up and walking over to his daughter putting his arms protectively around her shoulders, still in awe over what had just occurred. “Who was this man you just fought?” There was much here he didn’t understand.

Damon suspected part of it involved his long dead wife, but how was that possible? Nothing had gone as he had imagined it might. This night had taken on a strange turn of events, and Lynol had a lot of explaining to do. It was obvious some important secrets had been kept from him.

“I’ll explain on the way home,” Lynol replied wearily, feeling weak and nauseous from the energy her crystal had drained from her. She felt a wave of dizziness sweep over her, but she steadied herself and took several deep breaths. Lynol still had a few more things that had to be done before she could rest.

She couldn’t believe she’d won, that it was actually over! Jalene was gone, Adam Grayson destroyed, and Gilmreth driven back to his lair. Lynol watched as Aldin freed a trembling Dresdia from the manacles and chains that held her. Dresdia held on to her father tightly, sobbing on his shoulder, finally allowing her emotions to come out.

The priests still conscious upon the temple platform looked at this new sorceress with growing fear in their eyes. Here was a young woman who had defeated the dragon and vanquished Daes. What was now in store for them? They waited nervously for her instructions. Was she to be their new ruler?

Dresdia freed herself from her father and rushed over to Lynol, hugging her in a tight embrace. “I knew you would come!” she cried tearfully, her body shaking. The two held each other tightly for a long moment, their friendship stronger than ever. Their lives forever cemented in an unbreakable bond.

“Whatever possessed you to pose as me?” admonished Lynol, stepping back. “You should never have done such a thing. If you would have been hurt, I would never have forgiven myself!”

“It was the only thing I could think of to stop them from searching for you,” replied Dresdia, recalling the incident with Sikes. With Lynol here there was no doubt Sikes would soon pay for his crimes, especially when she told her what he’d tried to do. “I just didn’t realize they would drag me off to Draydon!”

“I’m just glad you’re all right,” continued Lynol, feeling relieved that her friend had survived. “You were very brave; Kalvin will be so proud of you!”

Lynol stepped over to the edge of the temple platform looking down at the myriads of people looking up in confusion and with a dawning glimmer of hope in their eyes. They knew the dragon was gone, driven away by this mysterious woman, that Jalene was dead, sacrificed to Gilmreth by the High Priest, and now Daes was gone as well. Word was rapidly spreading by mouth about what this young woman had done to defeat the High Priest.

“People of Draydon,” Lynol’s voice rang out clearly, “I am Lynol Sylvar, and today you are free! The temple guards and priests will be disbanded immediately. Anyone that committed any crimes against the people of Draydon will be brought to justice and put on trial. This temple will be torn down! You no longer have anything to fear. Your nightmare is over!”

The crowd below was quiet for several long moments, then voices began to be heard, and finally the crowd erupted into cheers. Some still held disbelief in their faces as they looked at one another. Was it actually over, could they return to their old lives? Lynol Sylvar had freed them. The Sylvars truly were capable of legendary feats just as the old stories foretold. Excited and relieved voices could be heard talking throughout the remaining crowd as hope returned to Draydon.

Lynol looked out over the city. Many of the torches and braziers had been extinguished in the battle. Much of the town lay in darkness. Someone would have to be put in charge here, she thought, the temple torn down and Jalene’s priests and temple guards put on trial for their horrible crimes. With Jalene and Adam dead, there was no one who could threaten the sleepers in their hidden crypt deep beneath Firestorm Mountain. Someday, a new Golden Age would indeed arrive with their awakening. Lynol held her still warm crystal in her left hand, thinking of her mother, wishing Cathy could know of her triumph.

Her mother’s and Jason Sylvar’s dreams of a marvelous and bright future had taken a giant step forward today. Her thoughts turned to Kalvin. For just a moment, she allowed herself to dream of a future together, but then she remembered Gilmreth. The dragon still waited and still had to be dealt with! He could ruin everything. When Gilmreth became hungry, he would rise to feed. She had to stop him from ever leaving his lair again!

Chapter Nineteen

Lynol and Kalvin stood shivering before the dark tunnel entrance that led down to Gilmreth’s lair, high on Firestorm Mountain. They were both dressed warmly, for it was bitter cold this high up on the mountain. Even through their heavy cloaks the biting cold penetrated. Under her cloak, Lynol was dressed as a sorceress, her blue crystal lying prominently between the gentle swell of her breasts. A moderate dusting of snow covered the steep slope around them as they stared at the dark, beckoning entrance.

The chill wind swirled upon the mountain’s slope, moaning ominously amongst the high crags above them. Firestorm Mountain’s summit was already covered in deep snow, and soon the entire mountain would be buried beneath the powdery white stuff making a journey to Gilmreth’s lair impossible. It had been difficult enough as it was.

“Is this really necessary, Lynol?” Kalvin asked once more, his brown eyes pleading, not wanting Lynol to enter the tunnel. She’d been through so much recently. Now she wanted to face Gilmreth! Kalvin couldn’t bear the thought of losing her.

“It must be done, Kalvin. We can’t wait any longer,” responded Lynol, her light blue eyes looking into Kalvin’s brown ones. “We can’t allow Gilmreth to rise and feed again. Too many people would die. I have no other choice.”

“But you just got back from Draydon,” Kalvin spoke with a worried look crossing his face. “Have you recovered enough to face the dragon? You used a lot of energy in your battle with Gilmreth and the High Priest!”

“I was very tired afterward, Kalvin,” admitted Lynol, recalling how she had collapsed into her father’s arms after they had descended from the top of the temple. She’d spent nearly two days sleeping in a comfortable bed at one of the inns in Draydon before she managed to recover enough to get up and walk around. Dresdia had stayed at her side the entire time.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” asked Kalvin, wishing there was some other way. It just didn’t seem fair, not after everything Lynol had gone through.

Lynol was thankful they were gone from Draydon. The memories of what happened on top of the temple would haunt her for years. Many of the temple guards and priests had been arrested and would soon be facing trial for their crimes. Dalden Sikes was among them, and from the temperament of the people in Draydon many of Jalene’s cohorts would be confronting very dim futures. When Dresdia finally told Lynol what Sikes had tried, it was all Lynol could do to control her anger toward the man.

Lynol was confident they had left responsible people in charge. The new leaders in Draydon also knew that she would be returning in the spring to check up on them. She had no real desire to return to Draydon, but it would be necessary to ensure that Jalene’s temple theocracy had been eliminated. It would take awhile, but life in Draydon would eventually return to normal, or as close to normal as could be expected. The memories and pain from everything Jalene and Adam had done to the city and its people would last for quite some time.

“Is this the only way?” Kalvin asked, anxiously. “Isn’t there anything else we can do?” This confrontation with Gilmreth frightened him more than when Lynol had gone off to Draydon.

“You know it is, Kalvin,” Lynol replied softly, responding to Kalvin’s question and taking his hands firmly in hers. “It took us nearly two weeks to get everything straightened out in Draydon. All that time I was fearful Gilmreth might rise to feed, but he has stayed asleep.”

“Malcon and I were very worried that it was taking so long,” responded Kalvin, recalling the constant fear and worry while Lynol, Dresdia, Damon, and his father were in Draydon. They had no way of knowing what was happening.

“We placed responsible people in charge and banished many of the men who had served in the temple as guards and priests,” replied Lynol, understanding the concern and worry Kalvin had felt. But there had been no way she could contact either Kalvin or Malcon to let them know everything was all right.

“I still wish that I could’ve gone to Draydon with you,” Kalvin said.

“It was important that you stayed behind, Kalvin,” spoke Lynol, squeezing his hands. She wished she could have spent more time with Kalvin since she’d returned from Draydon, but she couldn’t delay coming to the mountain any longer. “There are so many people living in Draydon now. We can’t risk Gilmreth going there!”

“So the people who were brought to Draydon by force are going to stay?” Kalvin asked with some surprise. He’d thought they might return to their own villages and homes.

“Some of them will,” replied Lynol, nodding her head. “There will be a few that will return to their homes, but Jalene and Adam did make Draydon and the surrounding countryside a very good place to live. They had to in order to accomplish what they wanted. A city where they could rule all of mankind as they saw fit, living a life of luxury, and getting everything they desired.”

“There are so many people living in Draydon,” said Kalvin, trying to imagine that many people in one place.

“That’s why Gilmreth has to be stopped. The dragon could do terrible harm to the city and its people,” continued Lynol, gazing into Kalvin’s eyes, hoping he understood.

“Gilmreth, it’s always been Gilmreth!” Kalvin’s brow furrowed and he gazed at the ground, slowly shaking his head. “It’s just not fair after all we’ve been through.”

The expression of anguish that crossed Kalvin’s face said more than mere words could. He’d spent many heart wrenching days waiting for Lynol’s return, then had listened spellbound as she told him all that had transpired in Draydon. He still found it hard to believe that Lynol had actually defeated Grayson. She had defeated a sorcerer from the Golden Age itself! Now she had to face Gilmreth, a threat probably greater than everything she’d faced before combined. Why did fate seem to be so stacked against them?

No immediate answer was forthcoming. They both knew that Lynol had no choice in this matter. Fate and prophecy had decided everything ages before. The final piece of the ancient prophecy upon the painted wall of the sacrificial altar was about to be played out.

Kalvin held Lynol’s hands breathing deeply, wishing there was something else he could say. This was the woman that he loved so deeply and who had accomplished so much! How could he let her face Gilmreth alone? The cold wind blowing upon the mountain made him shiver and he pulled Lynol close, placing his arms protectively around her.

Kalvin knew what she was about to attempt was extremely dangerous, and the last sorcerer to try had sacrificed his life putting Gilmreth to sleep. Even Malcon’s simulacrum in the underground crypt had been unsure if Lynol had the power to survive the deadly invocation of the powerful sleeping spell.

“I’m a Sylvar, and this is my destiny, Kalvin,” Lynol spoke softly, taking her right hand, placing it on Kalvin’s cheek, and looking into his eyes. “The ancient prophecy predicted this.”

“I still think I should go inside with you,” Kalvin persisted, looking down into her light blue eyes. “I don’t have to enter Gilmreth’s lair. I could go as far as the other tunnel entrance, the smaller one, and wait there for you!”

“No, Kalvin; I don’t want to worry about protecting you while I’m dealing with the dragon. You’ll be safer out here!”

Lynol wished Kalvin could go in with her, but she knew that wouldn’t be wise. Her heart yearned for a future with Kalvin, but Gilmreth stood in the way as the dragon always had.

Dresdia and she had talked long and in depth about Kalvin and Gilmreth. Dresdia had made it very clear to Lynol how Kalvin felt. Dresdia didn’t know how they would survive if anything happened to Lynol and had told her that.

Lynol felt the same way about Kalvin and Dresdia, but Gilmreth had always been there her entire life, haunting the back of her mind. Even as a child when they were playing games in the old hay barn, Gilmreth had always been a part of their childhood imaginations. Now the dragon was a reality!

Kalvin held Lynol, wishing this wasn’t happening. He’d been so afraid of losing her when she’d gone to face Jalene and rescue Dresdia. To have her return safely and then go off immediately to face Gilmreth was almost more than he could stand. Why did it have to be this way? Hadn’t Lynol already done enough? Damn the ancient prophecy anyway!

“It’s time, Kalvin,” Lynol whispered, stepping back out of his arms and removing her heavy cloak to stand before him in her sorceress clothes. She looked gently up into his face. The next moment, they were both lost in a deep, passionate kiss, their hearts fluttering on dreams of what still might be.

Kalvin kissed her lips tenderly, not wanting this moment to end. Their future could be so bright. With Lynol’s powers, she could do so much for the world.

Pulling herself gently away, Lynol looked up into Kalvin’s eyes and whispered, “Goodbye Kalvin. I love you!” Lynol turned quickly and walked determinedly into the dark passageway, not daring to look back at Kalvin. It was the first time she had ever spoken those words.

-

She felt the turmoil of emotions running rampant in her heart. Pulling a glow bulb out of her small backpack, Lynol used her sorcery to cause it to glow brilliantly. With the light held before her, she walked rapidly down the wide tunnel with Gilmreth’s lair as her ultimate destination.

It was early afternoon outside, and there was a big question in Lynol’s mind as to whether she would ever see the light of day again. If Malcon had failed to survive the incantation of the sleeping spell, could she? Mentally, she began going over the intricate spell, making sure she could weave its potent pattern when the time came. Behind her, the entrance faded from sight.

For days now, since Jalene and Grayson’s deaths, she had been keeping a careful watch on Gilmreth. She had used her powers to spy routinely upon the dragon’s sleeping mind. The huge creature was still satiated from feeding upon Jalene, but for the last few days, Lynol had sensed the dragon gradually beginning to stir. In a short time, perhaps in just a few more days, Gilmreth would rise and more helpless people would become his victims.

Without Jalene and her promise of steady sacrifices, the dragon would go on a murderous rampage, killing and destroying everything he could find. With so many people living in Draydon, the city would become a massive killing field for the dragon. The world as Lynol knew it would cease to exist. With the destruction of Draydon and all the people it now contained, the human species in all probability would die out. When the sleepers finally came out of stasis they would find no one to greet them; just an empty, desolate world. The dragon must not be allowed to leave his lair; not now, not ever!

At last, Lynol came to the fork in the tunnel, the smaller tunnel leading off toward the waiting sleepers and the part of the immense underground complex that remained under the protection of the stasis field. Lynol paused for a moment, almost tempted to take the smaller tunnel and gaze upon the sleepers one last time before she faced Gilmreth. To look upon long lost relatives and her mother’s friends. However, Gilmreth waited and, fortifying herself, she started down the larger tunnel.

The sleepers could wait. If she survived her confrontation with the dragon, she would have plenty of time to visit them later. Her steps echoed hollowly in the silent, empty tunnel. The last human to walk here had been Malcon Sylvar, and he had never walked back out! Her glow bulb lit the dusty passageway before her. The white light barely reached the far walls and tall ceiling. Walking determinedly forward, Lynol continued down the large tunnel. She had a meeting with the dragon and an ancient prophecy waiting to be fulfilled.

The tunnel continued to descend deeper into the mountain. The air became cooler the deeper she went. Occasionally, Lynol saw other tunnels branching off from the main one disappearing into the darkness. The stench from Gilmreth’s lair was already nearly overpowering, and Lynol knew she was getting very close.

Up ahead she saw two large metal doors, their massive hinges bent, the doors shoved back against the sides of the tunnel. Some huge force in the past had struck the doors, making them useless. Perhaps the dragons had done this in their original escape from the complex, Lynol thought, amazed at the power it must have taken to break through them. Stopping, Lynol could see that a large cavern had been excavated on the other side. Her light failed to reach across the impenetrable darkness. This must be Gilmreth’s lair! In the distance, she could hear the occasional faint sound of dripping water.

Stepping through, Lynol used her sorcery to increase the light from the glow bulb. More of the huge cavern became dimly visible. She could see that a series of large pens extended far into the distance. These must have been the dragon pens, she thought as she gazed at the shattered ruins. All that remained now were broken, crumbling walls. In the distance, a dark pool of water stood its quiescent surface smooth as window glass. A drop of water from the distant ceiling struck it, sending shallow ripples racing across its surface.

Looking around the edge of the cavern, Lynol could see the remains of what must have been the offices, labs, and possibly the living quarters of the people who had once worked here. High up on the cavern walls several unbroken windows still looked out over the ruined pens indicating more hidden, mysterious passageways and rooms.

It was here that the ancient sorcerers had created the dragons, had dared to play God. Lynol took a deep breath and then slowly let it out. For a moment, she stood at the entrance, trying to slow the racing of her heart. She tried to calm herself and finally succeeded when she placed her hand upon her amulet. An inner strength seemed to flow from it, giving her a sense of calmness and confidence.

Walking into the cold depths of the cavern, Lynol walked gingerly toward the pens, making her way around the crumbling walls and threading her way through the virtual maze of rubble. Occasionally a still standing wall had writing on it, names, she suspected, of the dragons the pens had once held. She read the names of Fireheart, Braxam, Snowden, and others too dim to make out or crumbled away. She paused briefly, remembering that Snowden was the dragon her mother had mentioned in her diary as the dragon she had become friends with. Her mother had come here numerous times to visit Snowden before Adam destroyed everything.

Coming to the next partially standing wall Lynol paused, reading the name Gilmreth set into the cold stone. Her heart pounding, she stepped around more rubble and into the ancient pen, setting her eyes upon the sleeping, motionless dragon.

Gilmreth lay upon the ground, his body curled, his head resting upon his partially outstretched wing, his fetid breath coming in long, drawn out heavy breaths. For a long moment, she stood transfixed, gazing at the slumbering dragon. She wondered how Malcon had felt when he had stood in this same cavern before Gilmreth. Now, a thousand years later, she stood in the same spot looking at the dragon, the second Sylvar sorcerer to attempt the sleeping spell. The last one had not survived! She laid the glow bulb down upon the floor of the pen. Taking a deep breath, Lynol grasped her amulet and closed her eyes, trying to focus.

Gilmreth’s eyes suddenly sprang open as he sensed a presence near him, a source of energy so pure and intense that it sent pains of hunger and desire burning through his body. Looking about he saw a human woman, his dark pupils focusing on the glowing blue crystal she held. With a loud bellow of rage, Gilmreth struggled to his feet, hurling an intense jet of orange-red dragon fire toward the crystal. Gilmreth recognized the human who had inflicted so much pain upon him such a short time ago. Always in the past, the glowing crystals had meant pain and danger. This human had dared to accost him here, in his lair!

Lynol easily deflected the rancid dragon fire away with a simple protective spell. She was closer to the dragon than any time in their two previous confrontations. Lynol gazed into Gilmreth’s large eyes, seeing only hate and madness. She felt the strength of her crystal flowing into her. When she felt she was ready, she reached out with her mind, drawing upon its nearly limitless power. Grasping the pulsing blue crystal tighter with her left hand, she began weaving the intricate sleeping spell.

The spell was long and complicated, and her blue crystal began to glow brightly as energy was drawn from it, creating the complex pattern necessary to place Gilmreth into a deep-enchanted sleep. Lynol concentrated as Malcon had trained her to do, her eyes gazing unwaveringly into the eyes of the dragon.

For long moments, Lynol felt her crystal grow warmer and warmer as energy was drawn from it as well as her to power the potent spell. Her crystal grew fiery hot in her hand as the flow of energy increased. The cavern became lit by a brilliant blue radiance that flooded the cavern with pulsating light, illuminating it brightly for the first time in many long, dark centuries.

Gilmreth bellowed fire again and again at his nemesis as the spell slowly began to take effect. A loud roar of rage and anger reverberated through the cavern as the dragon tried in vain to strike down his adversary. He staggered back, knocking a weakened, half-crumbled wall to the ground.

The dragon remembered another human who had once stood in that precise spot causing him to feel the exact same way. In the back of Gilmreth’s primitive mind, the dragon began to know fear. Gilmreth shook his head, trying to resist the powerful spell. A bestial roar echoed once again through the immense cavern as Gilmreth breathed dragon fire at this human before him. The fish in the small pool dove protectively toward its depths as the cavern reverberated with Gilmreth’s anger.

Lynol’s crystal protected her from Gilmreth’s fiery breath as the deadly flame played all around where she stood, the stench from it nearly overpowering her as it blackened the ground and the walls behind and around her. She felt weakness begin to assail her. The amulet was draining her strength! She was finding it nearly impossible to stand upon her feet. She stepped back until she felt the wall behind her, using it for support so she could maintain her footing and face the still standing dragon.

It was becoming increasingly difficult to deflect Gilmreth’s fiery breath away from her while she wove the sleeping spell. As her crystal became weaker, it drew more precious life energy from her body to complete the spell. This was the same thing that happened to Malcon, she thought sorrowfully, accepting her fate and realizing that she wasn’t going to leave this cavern alive. The pattern for the sleeping spell was too consuming. The last haunting line from the prophecy at the altar wall ran through her mind. Only through great sacrifice can the Great Dragon be conquered.

The spell continued to suck energy into its intricate pattern, dangerously draining the crystal and Lynol. She knew with deep sorrow she would be that sacrifice, that the prophecy would have its way. Her skull was now throbbing as if a thousand drums were beating within. Her skin felt cold and clammy beneath her clothes. So this is what it feels like to die, she thought as weakness continued to assail her.

Gilmreth suddenly fell to the ground; his head weaving sleepily back and forth, as he fought the spell trying to stay awake. The dragon’s yellowish red eyes filled with hate.

Lynol’s legs were like sacks of wet sand. Her breath came in ragged gasps. A sudden spasm of intense weakness passed through Lynol, causing her to slide down against the wall and fall helplessly to the hard ground. She no longer had the strength to complete the spell, she realized in despair. Gilmreth would be able to free himself from the uncompleted spell and escape. She'd failed! She tried to get back to her feet, but she was too weak. As she slid back to the ground, she heard something drop from the pocket of her white blouse.

Turning her head, she saw what had fallen. Lys’ amulet lay next to her extended hand, glowing dimly. Reaching weakly out, Lynol grasped the ancient amulet, clenching it tightly. Renewed energy flowed into her as the powerful amulet directed its awesome power into the nearly completed sleeping spell. Lynol struggled back to her feet as the crystal’s invigorating strength flowed into her. I may survive after all, she thought as Gilmreth suddenly laid his massive head down upon his extended wing and closed his yellowish red eyes.

The spell, however, continued to draw power, draining Lys’ amulet. Lynol began to feel weaker and weaker, scarcely able to keep her own eyes open. She could feel her heart fluttering, fighting to continue to beat as her body weakened. For a moment, a stab of anger against fate and prophecy made her clench her teeth. I’m so sorry, Kalvin, she thought sadly.

A great weight seemed to settle on her chest. A huge hand gripped her heart and squeezed. She felt the hard, cold wall against her back as a long swirling tunnel with a brilliant white light at the end opened before her eyes. In the distance, she could see her mother standing with open beckoning arms, smiling, showing pride and compassion for Lynol. Then Lynol was falling, falling! She tumbled into the depths and everything vanished in all encompassing darkness!

The sleeping spell was complete; Gilmreth was once more held captive under its captivating power. In the huge cavern, the glow bulb dimly cast its fading light upon Gilmreth and the last human sorceress who lay unmoving so close to the sleeping dragon. In moments, the cavern was once more in darkness. The occasional falling water drops striking the pool, the only sound other than the shallow, labored breathing of the sleeping dragon. The small fish at the bottom of the pool returned to its surface, the cavern now silent. The final verse of the ancient prophecy had been irrevocably fulfilled.

-

Upon the slope of the mountain, Kalvin waited impatiently. The sun was already fading behind Firestorm Mountain. Lynol should have been back by now. Several times Kalvin had started into the entrance of the tunnel only stopping because he remembered Lynol’s last words. If she could not prevail against Gilmreth, he knew there was nothing that he could do. He listened intently for a sound of her presence in the tunnel, but all he could hear was the ominous howling of the chill wind.

Night finally settled in, covering the mountain and the land around it in darkness. A light snow began to fall. The temperature dropped, forcing Kalvin to take shelter in the tunnel entrance. He built a small fire inside from the scattered dead plants and the few small branches from withered trees he had found upon the slope. With growing heart-sickening acceptance, Kalvin knew Lynol wasn’t going to come back. Like Malcon before her, the sleeping spell had claimed another precious life. Kalvin only hoped that future generations would remember the sacrifice of Lynol Sylvar. New stories would have to be told so future generations would know of the waiting dragon that slept deep within the mountain and the sacrifice that had been made to keep them safe.

For a long time, Kalvin sat beside the glowing fire, his head down, not moving, his heart numb with sorrow. The dragon and the ancient prophecy on the wall of the altar site had stolen Kalvin’s dreams of a bright future with Lynol. Kalvin sobbed quietly, knowing his dreams had come to a tragic end. In the morning, he would try to recover Lynol’s body; he needed to recover her blue crystal. The crystal would allow him entrance to the section of the complex where the sleepers were if it ever became necessary to awake them. Lynol had seen to that.

If Lynol hadn’t succeeded in putting the dragon to sleep he would throw the switches and awaken the sleepers, and then they would deal with Gilmreth. Kalvin wished Lynol could be there with him to greet the sleepers from the Golden Age.

Kalvin didn’t know how much time had passed. Several times he got up, feeding more dead wood into the hungry fire. His heart felt cold and lonely; his body numb and not just from the cold. The chill wind blew and howled like a banshee outside the tunnel, almost seeming to announce to the unknowing world that the final Sylvar sorceress was gone. Kalvin sat huddled by the fire, his heavy cloak wrapped tightly around him, staring blankly and unseeing into the fire. There would be no sleep tonight!

The day after tomorrow he would have to face Damon and Dresdia. They would take Lynol’s death very hard. The coming days would be difficult, if not impossible, for all of them. His own life would mean very little without Lynol. He waited, wondering how long it would be before the sun would come up.

He suddenly heard quiet, tentative footsteps behind him. His heart pounding, he stood slowly and turned around, looking down the tunnel. There stood Lynol looking haggard and tired.

“Lynol!” he breathed, rushing forward and grabbing her, holding the pale woman in his arms. “I thought I had lost you! What happened?” Kalvin couldn’t believe she was standing before him. He’d given up all hope of ever seeing her again. He held her, afraid to let go lest she disappear and he would awaken to find this only to be a dream.

“The dragon is asleep,” replied Lynol in a tired and weary voice.

“The sleeping spell worked!” Kalvin spoke, relieved.

“It was Lys’ amulet,” Lynol replied weakly. “I’d forgotten it was in my clothes, in one of my pockets. I collapsed and nearly died, and then her amulet fell out of my pocket. I used its stored up energy to complete the spell. I passed out afterward, too weak to move. Malcon was right. The weaving of the sleeping spell is too consuming. If not for Lys’ amulet, I wouldn’t have survived. I would have died as the last verse of the prophecy predicted. Kalvin, I’m not sure I didn’t die, at least for a moment. I thought I saw my mother. It all seems so hazy.”

“Your mother!” Kalvin replied, taken aback, and then continued softly. “Perhaps you did, Lynol. She was a powerful sorceress, perhaps in your moment of need she was there.”

With surprise, Kalvin noticed that Lys’ amulet lay between Lynol’s breasts and not her own. “What happened to your amulet?”

Lynol sat down by the fire, trying to get warm. Kalvin placed her heavy cloak around her shoulders and then sat down next to her, putting his arm protectively around her.

“I put the Stone of Loraine back in its crypt and closed all the doors that lead to it,” Lynol replied in a tired voice. “It will be centuries before its crystal matrix stabilizes again. I also put mother’s blue amulet and her diary, along with an explanation of what happened back in the chamber with the sleepers. They’ll need to know about Gilmreth when they awaken. That’s what took me so long. With their ancient knowledge, they should be able to deal with the dragon once and for all.”

“Then it’s over,” said Kalvin, realizing that he and Lynol did indeed have a future together. His eyes wide, he looked at Lynol with growing hope. “But why didn’t you keep your amulet?”

“It’s too powerful. Mother’s amulet and the Stone of Loraine were designed to be used by the ancient sorcerers in their world, not in ours. It may serve them when they awaken. Lys’ amulet is powerful enough for what we still need to do,” Lynol replied, a hint of a smile crossing her face. “It’s over, and we have nothing left to fear. Jalene is gone, Adam Grayson has met his end, Draydon is returning to normal, and Gilmreth is back in a deep sleep. Everything is back as it’s supposed to be, with one notable difference. With the power stored in my mother’s amulet and Lys’ amulet, it wasn’t necessary to harness the energy around the mountain. I only used the energy the two amulets contained. Sorcery will still work!”

Kalvin took Lynol in his arms, placing her head protectively against his chest. So, he thought, sorcery is back in the world to stay and he fully expected their children to take after their talented mother in that regard. The descendants of Lynol Sylvar and Kalvin Gor would someday be waiting expectantly when the sleepers in the crypt awoke to bring about the new Golden Age.

Lynol and Kalvin held each other until morning. They emerged from the entrance at the end of the tunnel into the brilliant early morning sunlight. Holding hands, they watched the rising sun. Never had a sunrise seemed so bright, nor colors so intense, or a future so promising!

The End

-

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Turn the page for an introduction to Firestorm Mountain, the conclusion to the Dragon Dreams series.

Firestorm Mountain

A Dragon Dreams Novel

Chapter One

It had been two weeks since the big fight with the Sorensons. Ashley was sitting at the kitchen table with Todd and her father. They had been talking about what had happened and what the future held. Todd was excited as the threat from his father and brother had been removed and they could now lead a normal life. They could hear Katrina and Carolyn laughing in the other room.

“That’s the first time I’ve heard my mother laugh in quite some time,” Todd spoke with a pleased smile on his face. “I think she’s going to enjoy living in Plainview.”

“I’m glad she’s happy,” spoke Ashley, reaching over and taking Todd’s hand.

It was at that moment Stephen burst into the kitchen, throwing open the kitchen door. “Ashley, the dragons are here!”

“What do you mean?” stammered Ashley, letting go of Todd’s hand and standing up. Snowden had never come to the farm before. She brushed back her shoulder length blonde hair, looking at her brother.

“They both just landed in the yard,” said Stephen, turning around and pointing outside. “Braxam’s huge!”

Ashley walked over to the door closely followed by her father and Todd. Looking outside, she saw Snowden and Braxam.

“Hello Ashley,” Snowden spoke into her mind. “We need to leave.”

“What?” Ashley said out loud. “What do you mean leave? Where are you and Braxam going?”

“Not just Braxam and I,” Snowden responded. “You are coming too.”

“Where are we going?” asked Ashley. She didn’t understand what was going on.

“Cathy’s awake and she needs our help.”

Ashley froze as she recalled her dream about fighting Gilmreth alongside Cathy Matheson and another sorceress she hadn’t recognized.

“What’s going on?” asked Harmon, looking out at the dragons.

Ashley turned to her father and explained what Snowden had just said. Her mother and Carolyn had come into the kitchen and were listening.

“It’s the other prophecy, isn’t it?” Katrina stated with fright in her eyes. She had hoped all the fighting was over.

Harmon paused and then walked down the hallway to his study. He returned carrying the ancient book with the prophecies in it. He set the book down on the kitchen table and opened it to a page he had hoped he would never have to read to his daughter.

The dragons and the blue eyed sorceress will bring peace to the valley.

Beneath the great mountain, forces of Armageddon arise.

Dragon versus dragon and sorcerer versus sorcerer.

Only the white dragon can preserve the future.

The sleepers will awaken to a new world.

Gilmreth will arise to destroy all.

The white dragon and the blue-eyed sorceress will battle to save humanity.

“That’s all it says,” said Harmon, shutting the book. “It was the final prophecy written by our ancestor.”

“I don’t understand,” said Katrina, looking worriedly at Ashley. “Surely this prophecy doesn’t apply to her. She doesn’t have to go. Not after everything we’ve been through.” Katrina had a pained look on her face.

Harmon took a deep breath. “From what I have read and from trying to understand the prophecy, there is a great danger arising from within Firestorm Mountain. Somehow some of the ancient sorcerers must have found a way to survive.”

“And our Ashley is involved in some way,” Todd spoke softly. He shook his head. How could this be? Just when he thought everything was over!

Ashley took a deep breath and stood up. “Let’s go speak to Snowden. Maybe then we’ll know more about what’s going on.”

“You’re not leaving,” Katrina said in a firm voice. “You’re not flying away on that dragon.”

Harmon took his wife’s hand. “Let’s hear what Snowden has to say. If this is part of the prophecy there is nothing we can do to prevent it.”

-

Stepping outside, Ashley saw both Snowden and Braxam. The two dragons looked fearful. Snowden was a solid white and Braxam a dark brown. Braxam was nearly twice the size of Snowden but had bowed to Snowden’s leadership. Both dragons had been extremely excited to find each other as they had both believed they were the last of their kind other than Gilmreth.

“I don’t understand what you’re telling me,” said Ashley, looking into Snowden’s large eyes. “What do you mean Cathy’s awake?”

Snowden slowly shook his head as if he was trying to figure out how to explain. “Cathy has been asleep. She just woke up and she’s in danger. We must go and help her.”

“What is she in danger from?”

Snowden looked over at Braxam and then answered. “Gilmreth and some evil sorcerers. We must stop them.”

Ashley felt a cold chill pass over her. Gilmreth was evil and the most powerful dragon ever created. He had hunted down and killed most of the other dragons. “How long will it take for us to get to where Cathy is?”

“She’s inside Firestorm Mountain. It is far away and will take us many days to reach.”

“Are there other people there?”

“I don’t know,” replied Snowden. “There once were but that was a very long time ago.”

Ashley was unsure what to do. Snowden had showed her numerous visions of Cathy Matheson while he was training her. However, those visions were of a time several thousand years ago. How could Cathy still be alive?

“What’s he saying?” asked Harmon.

Ashley switched her gaze from Snowden to her father. She spent a few moments explaining what Snowden had told her.

Harmon took a deep breath and gazed at his daughter. “I can’t go against the prophecy. Too much may be riding on it. However, I don’t feel comfortable with you going by yourself.”

“I’ll go with her,” volunteered Todd, looking over at Braxam. “If Braxam will allow me to ride him.”

“I will,” spoke Braxam in Ashley’s mind. “I will enjoy having a rider.”

“He will,” said Ashley, looking over at Todd.

Katrina looked with narrowed eyes at her husband. “You’re actually going to let the two of them fly off on the dragons? We may never see them again!”

Harmon took Katrina’s hand. “Ashley and Todd can protect themselves with their sorcery plus the dragons will not allow any harm to come to them.” Harmon took a deep breath and then continued. “Our family has protected Snowden for generations. We always knew he had a destiny. We cannot avoid that. The prophecy clearly says Snowden and Ashley must go to Firestorm Mountain.”

“We’ll be okay,” said Ashley, stepping closer to her mother. “As soon as we’re finished with what we’re supposed to do we’ll return home.”

“I’ll keep her safe,” promised Todd.

Katrina gazed into the blue eyes of her daughter. She knew Ashley was a very powerful sorceress. “I still don’t like this.”

Ashley smiled. “You wouldn’t be my mother if you did.”

Harmon looked up at Snowden. “When will you leave?” Harmon looked over at Ashley for a response since he couldn’t hear the dragons.

“Day after tomorrow,” replied Ashley. “Both Snowden and Braxam will need to feed first before they’re ready to fly over the desert.”

“Will there be people where you’re going?” asked Katrina.

Ashley hesitated. “I’m not sure. I think so.”

“Todd, you be careful,” cautioned Carolyn. “You’ve never flown on a dragon before.”

“It’s safe,” promised Ashley, grinning. “I do it all the time.”

“I’ll make Todd a harness, like the one Ashley uses,” said Harmon.

Katrina looked at Ashley, a look of deep concern on her face. “How long will you be gone?”

Ashley slowly shook her head. “I have no idea. A couple of weeks at least, maybe longer.”

Carolyn let out a deep sigh. “I guess we’d better start packing some supplies.”

“How much can the dragons carry?” asked Harmon.

Ashley turned toward Snowden and Braxam. “How heavy a load can the two of you carry?”

“Each of us can easily carry double your weight,” replied Snowden. “If we get tired we can always land and rest.”

“I can carry more,” said Braxam.

“You are bigger,” answered Snowden, looking over at the larger dragon.

Ashley laughed. Sometimes the dragons sounded almost childish. She turned toward her mother. “Pack us enough supplies for several weeks. The two dragons can easily carry everything we need.”

Harmon turned to go back into the house. “I want to examine that old book of prophecies and see if there is anything else in it I might have missed.”

Ashley watched her father go inside followed by her mother and Caroline leaving her and Todd with the two dragons. Ashley stepped forward and put her hand on Snowden’s neck. “I guess we’re going to Firestorm Mountain.”

“Cathy will be there,” replied Snowden with a hint of excitement in the thought. “You will like her.”

“So will Gilmreth,” sent Braxam, showing some anxiety. “He has killed many dragons.”

“We are together,” replied Snowden. “I have fought Gilmreth in the past. I have no fear of him. Together we will bring about his end.”

“Go now and feed,” said Ashley, looking affectionately at the two dragons. “We have a long journey ahead of us.”

Both dragons took to the air and were soon out of sight.

“They’ve gone to feed,” she explained, turning toward Todd.

Todd stepped forward and took Ashley’s hand. “I can’t believe we’re going to do this.”

Ashley squeezed Todd’s hand. She couldn’t either. She really hadn’t had time to think over what just happened. Was she really going to Firestorm Mountain and would Cathy Matheson and Gilmreth actually be there? With a deep sigh, she led Todd up the porch steps and into the house. They had a lot to talk about before setting out on this new adventure.

-

One week earlier.

Deep beneath Firestorm Mountain in the complex of the ancients, a timer in a secluded chamber reached zero. When it did geothermal energy powered up the various systems in the small, hidden facility. Lights came on, machines began to hum, and three stasis chambers began the process of awakening their occupants.

For an hour the chambers ran through the awakening process and then the lids to the chambers slid open. The first to sit up was a young woman with brown hair who looked to be in her early twenties. She climbed out of the stasis chamber and looked around with some confusion in her eyes. She opened up a locker and put a robe on that was hanging there.

Two men a little older than she was climbed out of their chambers and they all stood looking at one another. The woman handed each of them a robe to cover their nudity.

“Where the hell are we?” muttered one of the men as he staggered over and sat down in a chair in front of a control panel.

The woman shook her head, looking around the room they were in. “Stasis,” she said, recalling a memory. “We went into stasis after Adam’s revolt failed.”

“I remember,” said the other man as he too sat down. “We went into stasis so we wouldn’t be banished from the complex as the rest of our group was.”

“Many of us died,” pointed out the woman. “I wonder if Adam is up yet?”

“You’re the technician,” said Karl Lyndon. “See if he’s out of his stasis chamber.” Karl was the more muscular of the two men.

Gail nodded and sat down in front of another panel. She began pressing buttons and then turned on a computer screen. Data began to flow across it and after several minutes she turned toward the two men. “Adam’s gone. From these readings he’s been awake for nearly thirty years.”

“Then why the hell didn’t he wake us up?” complained Karl, his face livid with anger. “We were all supposed to be woken at the same time.”

Gail pressed some icons on her computer screen. “It appears there was a malfunction in Adam’s stasis unit and he was revived early. I have no idea why he didn’t wake us.”

“Are there any messages?” asked Joshua Grimes. Joshua had been Adam’s primary lieutenant.

Gail shook her head. “No, nothing.” Gail stood up and went to a cabinet. She turned off the stasis device shielding the cabinet and then opened it. She took out three containers and handed one to each of the men and kept one for herself. “These are nutrients which should restore our strength after being in stasis for such a long time.”

Gail opened hers, which instantly heated to serving temperature. It was a thick meaty stew loaded with nutrients and calories.

“What now?” asked Karl as he hungrily ate his food. “Adam was supposed to be here.”

Joshua finished his stew and standing up walked over to Gail. “Do we have any active satellites?”

Running her hands over her keyboard Gail checked for any surviving satellites she could contact with the limited power of the small facility they were in. “Two and both are just barely functioning. I’m surprised they lasted this long. It’s been over three thousand years.”

On the large screen above Gail’s console a view of the Earth appeared. Most of the planet they could see looked arid and very dry. Only a few areas around the mountains showed any green as well as one large area near the west coast.

Joshua pointed to the area around their mountain. “Zoom in on these green areas and see if there are any people.”

The view zoomed in and with surprise, the three saw a number of small villages and one very large town on the far side of the mountain.

“People,” said Karl with a grin on his face. “At least we won’t be alone.”

“They’re pretty primitive,” commented Joshua as he examined what he could from the satellite view. “I don’t see any signs of electricity or moving vehicles. There’s definitely nothing in the air.”

Karl stood up and stepped over to gaze at the screen. “Perhaps that’s for the best. We can mold them as we see fit. If we’re the only two people with powers then no one will dare to challenge us.”

Joshua looked over at Gail. “What about the rest of the complex? What type of shape is it in?”

Gail spent some time checking various systems and accessing some of the still functioning cameras in the complex. “There’s a deep section of the complex I can’t access. It is also protected by a very powerful stasis field. There are other sections that are protected as well.”

“What about the dragon pens?” Karl had always been interested in the dragons. If controlled, they could definitely have their uses.

A camera came on and the interior of the dragon cave could be seen. Much of it lay in ruins. Walls had crumbled and even the rooms high up in the cave walls seemed to have caved in. As the camera panned over the ruins it came to a stop at one enclosure. Inside it, a massive dragon lay sleeping.

“Gilmreth!” uttered Joshua, his eyes widening. “How did that monster get back inside?” The dragons had escaped from the complex smashing the protective doors which shielded it from radiation.

“I don’t care how,” muttered Karl, his eyes lighting up with plans. “If we can awaken Gilmreth and control him no one in this age will dare challenge us.”

“I don’t know,” said Joshua, shaking his head. “That dragon was hard to control. Even Adam admitted Gilmreth was dangerous. Jason was even considering having him destroyed.”

“Well, he didn’t and Gilmreth is here. We can put an obedience collar around his neck. That should ensure control.”

Joshua wasn’t sure if that was a good idea. An obedience collar used high voltage shocks to control a dragon. They had only been used in extreme cases. “The sections with the stasis fields; can we access them?”

“Maybe,” replied Gail. “However, if I’m reading this data right there may be a number of functioning stasis chambers in the deeper section.”

Karl frowned. “Those won’t be ours. That section was completely controlled by Jason’s people.”

“We need to get out of here,” said Joshua, worriedly. “What if they detect we’ve woke up? We have no idea how many of Jason’s people are in there. Jason himself could be.”

Karl shook his head. “Sylvar would not have gone into stasis. He was too focused on saving the people of this world after the nukes hit. But I agree. It’s probably not safe for us to be here.”

“Where should we go?” asked Gail. “We don’t exactly look and dress like the people here probably do. We may not even speak the same language.”

“I don’t think now is the time to awaken Gilmreth either,” said Joshua. “We need to know what we’re up against first.”

Karl nodded. “We’ll pack up a few things and then check out some of the smaller villages on this side of the mountain. Once we get a good feel for the lay of the land, we’ll go check out the large city on the far side. With the number of people there, it would make a good place for our future capital. We can rule like Gods.”

“What if the others in the deeper complex wake up?” asked Gail. “They won’t like what we’re doing.”

“They haven’t yet,” pointed out Joshua. “We also need to see if we can find any signs of Adam. As powerful as he is he shouldn’t be too hard to locate.”

“If he’s anywhere it will be that big city,” commented Karl. “Adam always liked to be the center of everything.”

Gail turned off the viewscreen. She was afraid if she kept it on too much longer the already weakened satellite might fail completely. “We should wait a day or two before we leave. We need to eat more as well as decide exactly what we want to take with us. It might be some time before we can come back to the complex.”

“Very well,” said Joshua. “We’ll wait two days and no more. I’m anxious to get out there and see what type of world we’ve come to rule.”

“If Adam isn’t already in charge,” pointed out Karl. “If he is, I wonder why he didn’t wake us up?”

“We’ll find out when we get out there,” said Gail.

Karl turned and headed toward a door. The small facility had several bedrooms and a fully equipped kitchen. If they were going to be stuck here for several days he was going to make himself comfortable.

Other Books by Raymond L. Weil

Available on Amazon

Moon Wreck (The Slaver Wars Book 1)

The Slaver Wars: Alien Contact (The Slaver Wars Book 2)

Moon Wreck: Fleet Academy (The Slaver Wars Book 3)

The Slaver Wars: First Strike (The Slaver Wars Book 4)

The Slaver Wars: Retaliation (The Slaver Wars Book 5)

The Slaver Wars: Galactic Conflict (The Slaver Wars Book 6)

The Slaver Wars: Endgame (The Slaver Wars Book 7)

The Slaver Wars: Books 1-3

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Dragon Dreams: Dragon Wars (Book 1)

Dragon Dreams: Snowden the White Dragon (Book 2)

Dragon Dreams: Gilmreth the Awakening (Book 3)

Dragon Dreams: Firestorm Mountain (Book 4)

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Star One: Tycho City: Survival

Star One: Neutron Star

Star One: Dark Star

Star One

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Galactic Empire Wars: Destruction (Book 1)

Galactic Empire Wars: Emergence (Book 2)

Galactic Empire Wars: Rebellion (Book 3)

Galactic Empire Wars: The Alliance (Book 4)

Galactic Empire Wars: Insurrection (Book 5)

Galactic Empire Wars: Final Conflict (Book 6)

Galactic Empire Wars: The Beginning (Books 1-3)

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The Lost Fleet: Galactic Search (Book 1)

The Lost Fleet: Into the Darkness (Book 2)

The Lost Fleet: Oblivion’s Light (Book 3)

The Lost Fleet: Genesis (Book 4)

The Lost Fleet: Search for the Originators (Book 5)

The Lost Fleet Books 1-5

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The Star Cross (Book 1)

The Star Cross: The Dark Invaders (Book 2)

The Star Cross: Galaxy in Peril (Book 3)

The Star Cross: The Forever War (Book 4)

The Star Cross: The Vorn! (Book 5)

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The Originator Wars: Universe in Danger (Book 1)

The Originator Wars: Search for the Lost (Book 2)

The Originator Wars: Conflict Unending (Book 3)

The Originator Wars: Explorations (Book 4)

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Earth Fall: Invasion (Book 1)

Earth Fall: To the Stars (Book 2)

Earth Fall: Empires at War (Book 3)

(All dates are tentative)

The Originator Wars: The Multiverse (Book 5) September 2019