Page 14 of The Dragonrider and the Void
Those are same patterns I saw in White Eye’s blood.
The realization struck him like an alarm bell.The Magi Order isn’t just tracking Lark and White Eye with a charm, they’re using the rimeshade.
His mare snorted softly, steam rising from her nostrils as she caught the shade’s frosty scent. Venrick pressed a hand to her neck, pushing calm through their connection while studying the terrain ahead. The orcs were heading northeast, following an old trade road he could barely make out in the snowstorm.
There should be a town near here,he thought, mentally consulting the map of Nordraven he’d studied while the elvesin Cheyanne’s camp were healing him. Then something strange happened.
The orc carrying Yarla shifted, his massive form seemed to blur and shrink. The change rippled through the group. Their green skin took on human tones, their tusks receded, and their bulky frames became more modest. Within moments, they appeared to be nothing more than a group of merchants carrying a hooded prisoner.
Venrick’s hand went to the Yogo Sapphires at his belt. He could feel them draining again, slowly. It was like they’d taken part in the transformation; as though their energy had been syphoned off to aid the spell. The gems wouldn’t last long if the rimeshade’s powers were somehow drawing in outside sources of magical energy. If Venrick was going to find out what the rimeshade were doing with Yarla, he would need to get close. He’d need the Yogos’ magic to mask his own magical signature. Without them, his features would stand out like a shining beacon to the rimeshade or any Magi working with him.
Venrick caught fragments of conversation carried on the wind.
“...won’t last long in this cold...”
“...others waiting in town...”
“...rimeshade will know if any try to escape...”
Venrick’s jaw clenched as Yarla’s scarf slipped down to expose her face. The black lines he’d seen earlier had spread, tracing patterns across her skin that mimicked the rimeshade frost. Her eyes were open but unseeing, glazed with a layer of ice that shouldn’t have been possible on a living soul.
He had to get closer, to understand what they were doing to her. But the Yogo Sapphires grew colder with each step he took toward the rimeshade’s path. He checked in on the gems. One of them cracked with a sound like breaking ice, a spiderweb of frost spreading across its surface, yet he pressed on.
A northern town appeared ahead now. A huddle of stone and wood-crafted buildings pressed in against a low angle mountainside. Smoke rose from chimneys, and figures moved about on what seemed to be ordinary business.
As the disguised orcs approached the town’s edge, Venrick made his choice. With practiced motions, he removed his pack and retrieved a length of rope from his saddle bags.
I hope this is the right thing to do,he considered. His compulsion to help a fellow elf could derail the efforts that had taken him this far, or they could lead him one step closer to finding Lark.I hope this is worth it,he thought, taking another step closer to the town.
5
HAVEN’S EDGE
Approaching the town, Venrick studied its protective stout stone wall. The large, cracked granite blocks looked easy enough to climb. The blizzard could mask his approach, but it wouldn’t make things easier. He wouldn’t know where guards were posted, or if they were moving until he reached the top and was visible. Venrick stood on the road in the snowstorm with his horse’s lead rope in one hand contemplating his next move.
Lark and her dragon could be days away from here by now. Trying to help Yarla, though, could derail all my progress. I could lose their trail for good. But he had seen a touch of that purple pattern swirled into the dragon blood where White Eye had bedded.This also could be my chance to learn more,Venrick realized.
“You in the road, move!” someone yelled. The pounding of galloping hoofs that accompanied the shout nearly sent Venrick flying out of his skin.
Venrick’s horse stirred, but did not spook by the fast-approaching rider. A man in winter fur clothing rode toward the town. Dozens more filed in behind him, all who had clearly beencaught out in the storm and now were seeking shelter. Venrick took a chance on this opportunity, mounted up, and fell in near the back of the group. Like the others, he wrapped his winter scarf tight around his nose and mouth to mask his features, ensuring his hood was up and covering his ears.
He had never visited a Nordraven settlement before sneaking into Red Lodge. The construction was familiar, much the same as any town in Lamar with a mixture of brick and wooden home construction. However, as he neared the open gates, obvious signs of magical corruption were evident in nearly everything within the wall. He made out thin veins of darkness flecked with sparkling snow, almost like starlight. The veins traced through cracks in the street’s paving stones and spread to the fissures in the buildings’ wood beams, crawling across frost-covered windows.
“Papers,” the guard demanded, voice muffled behind a steel visor on his helmet. Venrick handed over the forged documents Cheyanne’s people had given him. He adopted the role of a displaced farmer with this fake identity. When the guard handed them back, his fingers left traces of frost on the parchment.
As Venrick passed through the gates, the wind abruptly ended. He looked around to see the storm from inside the protection of the town wards. It was like the storm had been turned off within the town’s limits. The town was buffered by an invisible force that surrounded them.
Another trick of the rimeshade’s power,he decided.I never knew the rimeshade had this much magical control.As he hitched his horse near the gate, he considered how little he knew of the icy Northern shades. Most of what he did know was from children’s tales; the shades being demons from the fae realm, sent by the Night Court to terrorize the children of Sataran.
Is this going to work?he wondered, feeling the weight of his choice. He hadn’t thought this plan through. He hadn’t guessedat the sophisticated level of magic within the town walls. He was alone in enemy territory. The energy in his Yogos was diminishing. He had his steel sword, but he didn’t know which people in this town were working for the rimeshade. Suddenly the buildings themselves felt as though they were leaning in, studying him.
A woman hurried past, clutching a basket of bread. When she turned to avoid a passing cart, Venrick caught the gleam of armor beneath her shawl.
Another indentured servant of the shades or an ally?he wondered. In that moment, Venrick made the impulsive decision to follow her.
The market square opened before him. As he entered, it didn’t take him long to notice that the merchants were too magnificent to be working in a humble Nordraven town. They wore silks and jewelry too expensive for the average trader in this part of the world. They called out their wares with a cheerfulness that sounded almost mechanical. Every vendor seemed almost perfect.
The signs were subtle, but he clued into them. Shadows that were cast at the wrong angle, movements that were too fluid or too rigid to be natural, voices that rang out a heartbeat too long.
