Kallum's Fury (Lake of Dragons Book 2) Read online

  Filtered rays of sunshine warmed Maelich’s face as a stoic expression crept onto it. He stroked his chin and continued his story, “Then came my battle with the father of lies, the father of hate, the father of evil, Kallum. He came to me as the mighty eagle, lord of the skies.”

  Again the trees murmured, passing whispers from twig to twig and leaf to leaf. None of them knew what an eagle was. Kallum had never visited them, much less in the form of an eagle. What did the forest know of eagles?

  Maelich explained as he strolled among them, leaving the trail behind, “He came to battle as a giant bird, golden brown with a powerful, hooked beak and terrifyingly sharp talons. I rode Helias—the great Dragon, the last Dragon, the sweet soul who had once seemed the vilest of creatures to me—into battle. Kallum attacked us with the air, beating his mighty wings and sending whirlwinds to frustrate our flight. His command of the sky proved his boast of lord over it, and I was swept from Helias’s back. Then—”

  Maelich paused; a stiff breeze rustled the leaves above him and carelessly tossed his long, golden locks all about behind him. The air of the forest was normally still, almost stale. The uncommon wind weaving around tree trunks and shaking leaves all about the canopy wasn’t what distracted Maelich from his story though. Since first he stepped foot into the forest that morning, the trees had—for the most part—spread their leaves wide to allow the sun and fresh air in, welcoming his long-awaited, heroic return. Something else grabbed his attention, a new presence dancing among the currents, something foreign and out of place, something that did not belong.

  Maelich’s senses grew keener after his battle with Kallum, and each day since he became more connected to his surroundings. He could sense things he never dreamed possible, hear sounds no man could possibly hear, and smell odors no animal could hope to smell. Atmospheric changes were as noticeable as any sight, sound, taste, or smell. He was completely connected to everything on Ouloos, sensing changes in temperature, even sensing the coming rain hours before a drop fell from the sky. More immediately, he sensed the trees were completely taken by surprise. Normally each was aware of what every other one knew. This rendered anything known by one a surprise to none. Wrapped in the lad of the Lake’s story, however, all of them missed the foreign presence until Maelich shared his awareness of it with them.

  Maelich quickly glanced in several directions, slowly spinning a circle below a thick canopy of leaves rustling with anticipation. There was no need for strained eyes as he could see a great distance through the trees, even with the filtered sunshine. Silver light flickering in the distance—brilliant flashes lasting mere fractions of a second each—caught his attention. No person alive would have noticed, save Cialia, neither any animal for that matter. He drew in a deep breath through his nose. An out of place scent fraternized with the odors of rotting leaves, fresh dirt, and fragrant shrubs. It was something powerful, ancient, and primal. Focusing on the silvery flash and foreign smell, it only took moments for Maelich to be completely aware of the force that had entered the forest. It was the lion, Kaldumahn, the great, silver beast who stalks across the skies. A smile spread across Maelich’s face. Though he never had an opportunity to speak to Kaldumahn, he felt a connection to the god. The same brotherhood he felt with all things on Ouloos.

  “Kaldumahn,” Maelich boomed as the massive, silver god approached, “the great lion who stalks the skies, I am honored to be in your presence.”

  Another murmur raced among the trees. They gushed with all the blessings this day had brought. The lad of the Lake—the one member of the race of men who could stifle their urge to squeeze and choke—had returned with tales of his adventures to share with them. As if that weren’t enough, Kaldumahn had also come to stroll among them. The trees buzzed and swayed, humming the tune Maelich had honored them with so long ago.

  The lion returned Maelich’s smile as he raised his head high. The top of it sat easily twenty feet above the forest floor. His grand mane flowed behind his massive frame like a crown, the king of the gods. He spoke, his voice as deep and powerful as Maelich expected, “Maelich, savior of Ouloos, it is I who am honored. Five summers have passed since you saved our world, and you have yet to rest. Have you finished the book?”

  Maelich nodded, “Yes, yes I have. I did my best to present as much of the truth as I could to the people. I fear some of it may be too much for most to accept. Therefore, I have hidden some of it in metaphor. Only those minds great enough to unlock the secrets will have access to them. I believe a mind that desirous of truth will be able to accept it for what it is.”

  “Truth,” Kaldumahn frowned. “Is that what you call your teachings? What have you written of Coeptus?”

  “Only some of what they told me. Why do you ask?” his brows dipped toward his nose.

  “Mind you, I seek no fault,” Kaldumahn began, “but I must tell you now, I know everything you have written. You feel a connection to me and everything else on Ouloos. I feel the same connection to you, and I must confess something. I spied on you.”

  The corners of Maelich’s mouth dipped slightly, “You spied on me? Why would you do such a thing? Why not seek me out to speak about my words? I would happily share my writings with you.”

  “Please, Maelich, do not mistake my intentions,” the great lion replied. “I seek no fault in your words. I think what you have written is perfect. Your book will prove a wonderful guide for the people of Ouloos. It will give them hope and guidance.” He paused, brought his gaze in line with Maelich’s, and added, “My fear lies with your belief that what you wrote is, in fact, truth. It seems you believe things to be truths that are not truths.”

  Maelich shook his head slowly, “Everything I wrote was given to me by Coeptus themselves. How could they be anything less than truths? Coeptus are everything and everything is Coeptus. They are all and know all.”

  Kaldumahn softened his stance, “Maelich, your mind is as brilliant as the sun at midday. You are a god as great as any of us, probably greater. Yet, you are a man at the same time. You will always be hindered by your human qualities. You are so full of so many things you have been told and things you have seen. Still you do not realize you cannot always trust those things. Sometimes, you cannot even trust what your eyes show you. You truly believe Coeptus showed all of these truths to you. I know this. I know deep in your very soul you believe this. Unfortunately, I also know Coeptus are not anything that can be spoken to or seen. Like you said, they are everything, you, me, the trees, the ground we are standing on, and even the air you are breathing. But they are not tangible. Once you learn to quiet the man in you, you will be able to know this.”

  Maelich glanced down at his feet and thought for a moment. When he raised his face back to Kaldumahn, it wore a deep frown and a narrow gaze, “I must admit, great Kaldumahn, I am more than slightly offended. You doubt me. I spoke with them. My ears heard their words. I felt their presence.” He raised his hands out to his sides and added, “Even Cialia saw and spoke with them. We discussed it endlessly after our encounter. Would you suggest we shared the same dream so completely real to have duped us both into believing in fancy?”

  The great lion’s gaze drifted toward the canopy, “I suppose, based on the connection you share with your twin, it would be completely within the realm of possibility. However, I do not believe it to be the case.”

  “What is it you believe, oh great and mighty Kaldumahn?” an edgy note of sarcasm loafed about in Maelich’s tone.

  “Of that I am unclear,” the god frowned. “Whomever or whatever you encountered after your battle with Kallum must wield great power.”

  “Or perhaps I—being too much a man—am so easily tricked by a shimmering robe and wise words,” he chuckled.

  “Forgive me, Maelich. My intention was not to hurt your pride,” Kaldumahn bowed slightly, “but I have. However, since it has been roused, I must counsel you to temper it lest it be your downfall.”

  Maelich humphed, “That sounds like som
ething Kallum might say if not just a hair more polite. Please tell me the great Kaldumahn is more than merely another jealous god. I truly have been looking forward to speaking to you and sharing thoughts about Coeptus and Ouloos and the Lake. But you have not come to share these thoughts with me. Instead, you have come to find fault, to challenge truth.” Maelich scratched his head and began to pace, “I presume Coeptus have never spoken to you.”

  Sadness spread across Kaldumahn’s expression, “Of course they have not. They cannot. Coeptus are everything, not a man or being who can be conversed with. Surely if you search your heart, you will find you know this to be true.”

  “If it were not Coeptus speaking to me and not my imagination conjuring the encounter, oh great and wise Kaldumahn, then whom or what?” agitation crept into Maelich’s tone.

  “I do not know, Maelich. I believe you did speak to someone, or something, but I am certain it was not Coeptus.”

  Maelich stopped pacing and matched Kaldumahn’s gaze, “I believe you are jealous that Coeptus spoke to me but have never spoken to you. I saw them with my own eyes. I felt their presence. I experienced them. This was not my imagination, not some fancy I concocted in my own mind.” Again, he shook his head, “You have no faith in me.”

  Kaldumahn sighed, “Someday, Maelich, you will learn to see things through the eyes of a god. You will learn to disseminate fact from fancy. Until then, I suppose you will see me as this jealous thing you describe. Know this. We gods were first after the Dragons and we have seen Ouloos become what it is. It is unwise to dismiss any god as anything less than a powerful, wise creature who deserves to be revered with awe and worship. I do, however, understand where these ideas you harbor come from, and I do feel pity for you. I wish you only the best on your journey. You feel it is done, that you have conquered all and now need only to teach the men of Ouloos to follow your word. Hear me now, Maelich. Your journey has just begun and your path is not an easy one. You would do well to learn to control that pride. It is your biggest weakness. It makes you deaf to ideas not already haunting your mind. What is left to learn when everything is known?”

  The lion was gone before Maelich could respond, leaving the lad of the Lake alone with a mouthful of angry words and a fire growing in his belly. Swallowing those words back down rather than spewing them into the face of that doubter made the blaze growing in his gut burn stronger. What a cowardly way to end a debate, throw a quick jab and then flee before a counterpunch can be thrown. He remained there; tense, staring impotently at the spot where Kaldumahn had stood showering accusations upon him. What else could he do, spar with a shadow? His adversary had fled leaving the moment unfinished, like a tender kiss stopped short by a sleepy-eyed child startled from slumber by a night terror.

  Several moments passed before Maelich’s rage dulled enough his mind could notice any signals from any of his senses. First his ears, the trees had stopped humming. Then his eyes, the forest had darkened. Trees that had at once stretched tall and spread their branches wide to allow the glory of the sun and the fresh relief of the north wind in to dance among the forest floor shrunk, huddled together, and cowered before him. They were afraid. It only took a few moments more for him to realize they had good reason to be. The warmth in his cheeks meant his eyes echoed the smoldering anger tumbling around his gut with the red glow of Dragon’s fire. His body slowly relaxed as he sighed long and deep, gradually deflating. As the trees slowly gained back his full attention, their apprehension became more and more apparent. It stood tall like a thick, brick wall. The false sense of serenity he attempted to fill them with failed to penetrate. How could he fill anything or anyone with something he could barely secure for himself? With his power, he could burn the entire forest to the ground. He would never do that. At least, he believed he wouldn’t. Apparently, the trees did not share his optimism. His return had been ruined. The story was finished. The redness in his cheeks shifted from rage to embarrassment that kept his apologetic thoughts to the trees short and awkward.

  Damn Kaldumahn and his doubts, crushing a triumphant return to the forest with his needling remarks and his prodding questions. Still, the great lion’s words were not without merit. A few simple queries managed to raise Maelich’s hackles up far too easily. Is it wrong to question? No. It is never wrong to question. Had he never questioned, he would have killed Helias and all would be lost. Why did he react so poorly when his ideas were challenged? Perhaps it was pride that had him so flummoxed. Questions posed by one he held in such high regard cut deep. But should they?

  The trees surrounding him trembled. With all of the doubt circling his mind, he couldn’t calm them. Instead, he made a circle with the index finger and thumb of his right hand, pushed the tip of his tongue back with it, and gave a short, sharp whistle to alert Validus it was time to depart. The horse had been wandering the forest, probably looking for green things to chew on. Approaching hoof beats entered Maelich’s awareness immediately after that whistle, but they did not match Validus’s familiar gallop. The mystery solved itself within moments as the silhouette of Cialia astride Purity entered his field of vision. Intensity saturated the air surrounding the two. It was magnified by the urgency in Purity’s hooves pounding the forest floor. Maelich gleaned enough from his sister’s thoughts to know Havenstahl faced some form of danger. Sadly, the disjointed racing of her mind made its definition impossible to ascertain.

  Cialia leapt from Purity’s back before the white mare had stopped her gallop. Her words poured out as a frenzied shout, “Maelich! You must return to Havenstahl. Three cloaked men attacked your father. He escaped, but he is battered and slipping in and out of consciousness. Hagen tends to him, but he keeps babbling about dead-eyed men and the priests of Kallum. I thought they perished when we destroyed him.”

  Maelich thought for a moment. “Yes, they should have become rotting corpses when Kallum was scattered. How could they still be haunting our world? Unless—” his voice trailed off as he realized the implications.

  At that moment, Validus charged up. Maelich leapt up onto his back and hollered, “We must make haste!” Once at a gallop, he continued shouting over the rumbling of horse’s hooves, “Was there any sign of these cloaked men within the city walls?”

  “No,” Cialia responded, scarcely enough wind behind her words to be heard. “Ymitoth was barely clinging to his horse, but he was alone.”

  The trees made way for the two as they charged through the forest. The significance of Cialia’s news was clear enough. Even as Maelich’s attention shifted focus to Ymitoth’s condition and the meaning behind the return of the dead-eyed men, he sensed the trees’ fear of his fire slowly slipping away in favor of concern for one they held so dear. They resumed a soft hum of Maelich’s song, the gift he had given them so many summers past.

  chapter 2

  they live

  The sun burned bright in the sky as Maelich and Cialia burst forth from the forest. Even with the heavy weight of Cialia’s news pushing him deep into Validus’s saddle, Maelich couldn’t help but feel slightly nostalgic racing out of the dark place. It reminded him of the first time he charged triumphantly out of the forest with Jom by his side. His eyes squinted as he gave in to a brief moment of reminiscing. Though his mind was elsewhere—traveling far ahead of him—he gave just enough thought to the trees to bid them farewell and promise to return again. He twisted back toward the trees and waved. They swayed back and forth as if to return the gesture. Their loyalty was humbling. He had frightened them to their roots, yet they still loudly sung his praises. He knew they would continue to sing them to all who stumbled within their midst. It felt more than he deserved. Hopefully another eighteen summers wouldn’t pass before he could wander among them again.

  Maelich pulled his attention back to the trail and the prairie spreading out before him, sloping on a slow, steady incline to the north. Too many thoughts and doubts swirled about his mind to focus his intent and urge the horses on faster. Kaldumahn doubted him, the t
rees of the Sobbing Forest had quaked in fear before him, and monsters bearing an uncanny resemblance to the priests of a dead god had attacked and battered his father. The immediacy of his need for haste was more than apparent, yet his mind continued to wander. Forcing and pushing, he tried to slip into the heads of Validus and Purity to urge them on and quicken their pace. Unfortunately, maintaining the concentration necessary to push the animals beyond their physical limits proved a summit too great to conquer. They charged ever faster toward Havenstahl, but they did it with little help from Maelich. Even still, the sound of hooves pounding the earth echoed back off the trees like the hammering thunder of one hundred horses. Already wet from the trail, both of the sturdy mounts dug into the packed dirt, pushing harder and faster. If either were tiring, they didn’t show it. They raced along as if sensing Maelich’s urgency regardless of how incoherent his thoughts were.

  Cialia detached herself from the moment long enough to enjoy the wind whipping at her face and blowing her golden hair back. The fresh, prairie wind filled her sinuses with the smell of wildflowers. They were so fragrant this time of the season. It filled her up, momentarily freeing her from the weight of life. Often times she felt a prisoner in her role as teacher of Coeptus’s word. A young girl’s dreams of adventure and battling against injustice that had once filled her head would probably never be realized. Her role was to teach and spread the word of Coeptus, giving hope to all those in need. Though the road endlessly beckoned, she had to ignore its cries in favor of a life of service. For a moment she was free from those shackles, flying far above the ground, riding the wind filling her sails.