Keeper of the Dragon
Chapter 9 - Adom
Riyad cried out, dropping his bow with a loud clatter. "He what?"
Leland pulled himself back up on the wagon and sat cross-legged next to his apprentice. "Everyone that I asked said the same thing. Somebody murdered the Oracle. I wouldn't put it past the Demons to invent a story like that, but a simple tale probably wouldn't stir them up like this." He drew his sword again, setting it next to him where he could reach it easily should the need present itself.
"No." Riyad shook his head. "No, I don't believe it. He would have seen it coming."
Denying it won't make it any easier to accept, Riyad, Leland thought. Aloud, he said, "Perhaps he saw it and allowed it to happen. Perhaps it needed to happen. Why don't you find out the truth?" He took the bow from Riyad's hands and set it down next to him. "I'll keep watch out here, don't worry." He sincerely hoped, for Riyad's sake, that the rumor proved wrong. And not just for Riyad—they all needed the Oracle. The Oracle would tell them if Azumi really was the Wing Goddess, what to do if their suspicions proved correct. They could not continue without the Oracle.
Riyad nodded. He took a deep breath. He closed his eyes. He opened his Eyes. He stood. His body remained sitting next to Leland.
He concentrated on his memories of the Oracle, formed an image of him in his mind. Lord Shen, he thought.
He stood at the top of a mountain. He could see for miles around him in the clear night, with no signs of any cities.
Lord Shen.
He stood in the middle of a rocky expanse of barren wasteland. Black Dragon territory. Getting closer.
Lord Shen.
He stood underground, in a cave with cracks in its floor that emitted steam. Torches along the walls provided the only light. Good. Almost there.
Lord Shen.
He stood in a room of blue marble with waves etched into the walls. A ring cut from a single, flawless sapphire—or so it appeared—sparkled upon an altar.
Riyad gasped. If the Token of the Siren is in the Shrine—he whirled around.
A noble-faced, elegant-looking man, his raven hair streaked white at the temples, lay in a glass coffin, his hands folded neatly. The tattoo of the Delphi clearly stood out pink on his forehead. The collar of his flowing, blue robes did not completely conceal the cut across his throat.
No!
Riyad felt himself falling backwards, down, and returned to his body.
"Well?" Sapir questioned anxiously, leaning forward on her hands.
"He's dead," Riyad said dully. The words sounded ominously in Leland's mind, like the thud of the executioner's axe in the chopping block. Tears welled in Riyad's eyes as he recounted the story. "Someone probably killed him in his sleep. It was too neat for a struggle." He swiped a hand across his eyes. "I'm sorry, Guild Master. I shouldn't cry like this."
"It's all right." Leland put a hand on Riyad's shoulder, struggling to think of something to say. He was not used to this; he had not tried or needed to give comfort in a long time. That was Silas's area. "It's all right, Riyad. It's not easy to lose your father. I know."
"Leland, they've noticed somethin's wrong," Sapir hissed. "We don't wanna get attacked! Can't ya shut him up for just a lil' bit?"
"Let them try to attack us. Remember, we have something they want." Not that this was logically the best time to be throwing all caution to the wind, but somehow it seemed like a good thing to do. Leland returned his attention to his apprentice. "Will you be all right, Riyad?"
"No!" Riyad's voice choked out through his tears. "It'll never be all right!" He looked up. "It could take months to find another Keeper of the Siren! What happens to Miss Azumi until then? What about my mother? What about my Clan? Oh, Lord Shen, Father—Guild Master!"
Leland tried to make his voice kind as he spoke. "It will be all right, Riyad. Your father's Temporary can take care of the Clan, that's what he's there for. Your mother can take care of herself, and the Abaharaki can take care of Miss Azumi. Don't try to shoulder all that yourself. You'll get used to death, I promise. Eventually, you will."
"I don't want to," Riyad wept. "I don't want to be like that. I don't want to lose my heart like that like that, Guild Master."
Leland sighed. He had already traveled down that road long ago. But, try as he might, he could not make it any smoother for his Apprentice to travel.
"He's in here." The old wolf-woman held open the curtain-door to a simple little hut, larger than the rest that made up the village of Adom. "He can't talk quite yet," the wolf-woman continued. "He's asleep right now. But ya can go in an' see him, if ya want."
"I don't mind," Azumi told her. "I don't think I'd have anything to say that would interest him, anyway."
The heady smoke of incense scented the air strongly. Straw curtains over the windows kept the light dim. Anshu lay on the wooden floor in the center of the room, a circle of animal-people and a few familiar faces kneeling around him. Azumi saw Silas next to the Elder at Anshu's head, exchanging quiet words. Leland, at Anshu's feet, stared hard at a spot on the floor, brow furrowed. Azumi walked around the circle and knelt next to him.
The Adom healers had drawn strange symbols on Anshu's skin and laid fronds of unfamiliar plants across his chest. Azumi had no idea how those techniques could possibly heal someone, but, she noticed, his skin was smooth and unbroken now, albeit pink, the burns gone. Some sort of magic? Did magic exist here? He looked peaceful, for he slept naturally now, a deep, healing sleep.
Maybe I was wrong about him. He can't be that bad. Maybe he was just nervous because he was hurt.
"How is he?" Azumi asked Leland quietly.
"He's out of danger. He just needs to recover his strength now." Leland's voice did not reveal his feelings about the matter. He sounded distracted, or apathetic. He had acted moody and depressed ever since Anshu had appeared. "He'd been under the Pool for a good ten or fifteen years, give or take," Leland continued. "I sincerely doubt that he'll be able to walk. There was hardly enough room under there to sit. We won't have to worry about him running away on us, and he probably won't give us any trouble for some time."
"I guess that's good." Azumi sneezed. Geez, that incense was strong. "Mr. Leland? Why is Riyad so upset?"
"The Oracle is dead," Leland replied. He did not move his gaze from the floor, as if by refusing to look at Anshu he could deny that the man existed.
"Oh." Azumi twisted her hands in her lap. "Yeah, I can see why that would make him sad."
Leland unconsciously gripped his braid. "His name was Keeper Shen Heatherwilde."
Azumi looked up at Leland, startled. "Were they related?"
"He was Riyad's father."
"Oh." The reply sounded disgustingly insensitive to Azumi, but she couldn't think of anything else to say.
Leland finally turned to look at her. "Do you understand now what evil this man brings, Miss Azumi? I am positive that had he not come, the Oracle would still be alive." He looked away. "I should have thrown him back in, I should have let him die. I should have left him down there. No one would have argued."
"But you didn't." Azumi leaned back on her hands. "And I think that it takes a lot of courage to be able to forgive someone like that."
"Forgive? I haven't forgiven him for anything. But you say I'm the hero, Miss Azumi." Leland looked down at his hand, then relaxed his grip and tossed the thick braid over his shoulder. "Or am I the villain, for allowing this menace to return to Gaea? I wish I could still see the world so simply as you."
Sobered, Azumi looked back to Anshu. "What happens now? There's no Oracle."
"The Delphi will look for a new Keeper of the Siren. Hopefully, Naiades will choose one quickly, and we can continue. The sooner we get Riyad to his Clan, the better. The choosing will start with him, as the child of the last Keeper."
"What if they don't find one quickly?" Azumi asked. Leland forced a smile. He had to keep smiling, for Azumi's sake. The girl was far too sensitive.
"That is not something you need to worry about. There is nothing you would be able to do about it," Leland replied.
"I guess not." Azumi coughed. That incense had made the room hazy by now. "I'm going to go back outside, Mr. Leland." The Guild Master nodded, staring at his spot on the floor again.
As Azumi reached the curtain door a young man with short, wind-blown, ebony hair pushed it aside. "I've brought you bandages, Elder," he announced. He wasn't an animal-person, but he dressed like them—simply, in animal skins and a rough, homespun tunic.
"Thank you, Anil," the old wolf-man replied. Silas rose to take the bandages.
Anil turned to Azumi. "You're an Abaharaki?" he asked, sizing her up skeptically and folding tanned arms. Before Azumi could answer, he shrugged. "I'm Anil Windermere."
"Kuronari Azumi." Azumi bowed.
"Kuro-?" Anil frowned. "I've never heard a name like that before."
"Yeah, well." Azumi shuffled her feet. "I guess that's because everyone thinks I'm-"
Silas coughed loudly. The Elder looked at him. "Are you all right, Journeyman Silas?"
"It's this incense smoke. It gets to me after awhile." Silas coughed again. "I think I'll just step outside a moment. Excuse me." He rose and crossed the room, grabbed Azumi's arm, and dragged her through the curtain after him.
"Ow! You're hurting me!" Azumi protested.
"Sorry." Silas let her go as they stepped outside. "Listen to me, Miss Azumi," he told her in a low voice, leaning down to put himself at her eye level, "you can't just walk around telling people what you are. That man who just walked in—he's the ruler of the White Dragon Clan, and therefore the top candidate for Keeper of the Dragon besides his brother, and he'd love to get his hands on you if he knew."
"I would what?" Anil let the curtain fall shut behind him. "Why would I want to get my hands on that woman?"
His brown eyes lit up with realization, and he grinned. "You!" Anil pointed at Azumi. "You're the Wing Goddess! You've come to me at last!" He took a step toward her, and Azumi cringed.
