Page 77 of The Dragonrider and the Void
“The connection is undeniable,” Ezra said quietly. “Whatever corrupted White Eye’s egg long ago affected this one as well. The question is, how? And why?”
Venrick stepped closer, drawn by an inexplicable urge to touch the creature. The hatchling watched him warily but didn’t retreat. When Venrick’s hand made contact with its scales, a jolt ran up his arm. It wasn’t painful, but intense, like touching a Yogo Sapphire that was storing magical energy.
Images flashed through his mind: ice caves deep beneath a mountain, black tendrils reaching toward clutches of dragon eggs, a presence ancient and coldly malevolent.
He jerked his hand back. “The Void Drinker,” he said. “It was affecting this dragon while he was still in its egg, which is why we believe his eyes are that color.”
Ezra nodded, his expression grim. “I suspected as much. Lark’s dragon suffered the same fate while he was still in his shell. Luckily, he didn’t fall to the effects.”
“The dragon under Haven’s Edge, is that what the Rimeshade were planning to do to this dragon, and what they tried to do to White Eye?” Venrick asked.
“Dragons are the most powerful sources of magic next to a Hyalite. Corrupting them and turning them into wells of power for them to tap into would be the least difficult for them to do when they are still unhatched.” Ezra said. “Which would mean the Entity’s servants have been preparing for this Flashover longer than we knew.”
“White Eye didn’t fall to the corruption. He bonded with Lark,” Hardin said. “And this hatchling hasn’t shown any signs of corruption in its behavior.”
“True,” Ezra said. “Perhaps the bonding process provides some protection.”
“Or the Entity’s influence manifests in ways we haven’t yet recognized,” Yarla said.
The hatchling chirped, a sound too close to the resonating rumble Venrick had felt inside his mind to be a coincidence. It uncurled itself and stretched, revealing its full size, still no larger than a hunting hound, but growing rapidly.
“It’s been healing well,” Ezra continued. “Growing faster than any hatchling I’ve ever seen. But its eyes...” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Those eyes have been watching me. Studying everything we do.”
“Do you think it’s dangerous?” Venrick asked.
“Everything with power is dangerous,” Ezra replied. “The question is whether it will become an ally or an enemy.” He turned back toward the command tent. “Come. There’s one more matter we need to discuss.”
As they walked, Ingamar fell into step beside Venrick, his large form forcing others to step aside. He felt like Ingamar was trying to tell him something about the hatchling, but the throaty hum that he made didn’t come across to Venrick. Again, he felt Ingamar’s attention being directed to the corruption lingering in his body.
“What is it, what are you trying to tell me?” Venrick asked quietly, so only Ingamar could hear.
The dragon’s amber eyes seemed to look through him rather than at him.
Venrick’s mind’s eye shifted toward what the King had said beneath the Keep. Ingamar hummed louder, seeming to know what Venrick was thinking. “A bridge between worlds,” Venrick muttered.
Back at the command tent, Ezra moved to a chest secured with three different locks. He produced keys from around his neck, opening each in turn. From within, he withdrew a bundle wrapped in oiled cloth.
“There’s something I want you to have,” Ezra said, placing the bundle on the table before Venrick. “Hardin is using a set Cheyanne has been saving for a new rider, so with Tel’s, well, I thought he might’ve wanted his to pass to you.”
With reverent hands, Venrick unwrapped the cloth. Inside lay a set of brismil armor, the distinctive blue metal gleaming like oil in the lamplight. Tel Roan’s personal armor. The same he had worn in countless battles, the same that Venrick had worn to fight Barrik and Joc against his curse.
“I can’t,” Venrick whispered, his fingers hovering over the brismil without touching it. “I’m not a Knight, let alone a Paragon.”
“Tel believed you would become more than either,” Ezra said firmly. “And now, with the Flashover approaching and the Void Drinker seeking to break the barriers between realms, we need every advantage we can muster.”
Hardin stepped forward to place a hand on Venrick’s shoulder. “It should belong to you. You felt its power before and with your half-elven resistance to the corruption, it might be exactly what we need to face what’s coming.”
Venrick looked to Ingamar, seeking guidance from the being who had known Tel best. The dragon’s eyes seemed to demand that he take it. That Tel would’ve left it to him had he known he was going to die that day.
With a deep breath, Venrick reached out and lifted the brismil scale. Instantly, he was encased in plate armor that was light as cloth, yet hard as dragon scales. It gave him an energy that came from dragon kind itself.
“It will serve you well in the battle to come,” Ezra said. “And there will be a battle, make no mistake. Scouts are reporting a Nordraven army is on the march south. From what we’ve seen, Stormwatch is shoring up their own defenses, unable or unwilling to risk assisting Astral City with all the unrest that’s occurred recently. To make matters more unpredictable, the Flashover will happen any day now. We need to either have the ritual completed by then or be prepared to fight a war on two fronts. Against the forces working against us here in Sataran and against whatever comes through when the barriers fall. Cheyanne has ordered me and Yarla to lead the rest of her troops here in the forest on Astral City. She’s expecting something big.”
“I need to return as soon as possible,” Venrick said, his determination hardening. “I won’t abandon Lark.”
“You should really try to get some rest,” Yarla insisted. “The corruption may be fading, but your body has been through an ordeal. Lark won’t be better off if you go and get yourself killed before this is through.”
“I’ll rest on the journey,” Venrick said, his mind already made up. “We can’t afford to waste time. Lark risked everything to ensure I escaped with these pages. I won’t leave her in the Void Drinker’s clutches a moment longer than necessary.”
