The Sword and The Mountain (Kathardra book 1)
Hope

“Nearly,” Zar said, pointlessly to Storm. She could see the sun set as well as he could. “With any luck Worran and Cinder will be waiting for us, where she is being held. It’ll likely be the prison. It’s in the southeast quadrant of the city,” he explained for at least the fourth time. He couldn’t be sure she was listening. She gave no confirmation of having heard. And the silence was unbearable.

Just as Zar thought the sun had sunk far enough to give them a chance of being overlooked, Storm’s wings spread and she jumped powerfully into the sky.

The ride that had taken him six hours of constant magic use took less than half an hour. Thank the stars. Storm rode high in the sky, and her wings beat furiously at the air, propelling them faster than Zar could have ever managed with any amount of magic.

Once they were just closer to the city Storm’s body jerked violently, a moan of what could only be pain was nearly lost to the wind as she righted herself. Storm dipped her nose and dove directly for the ground.

Zar was grateful immediately that he had strapped his legs into the buckles, or else he would have been torn free.

Fear for Lessa was so great there was no room in Zar to feel the terror that certainly would have prevailed, doing this under any other circumstance.

“Quietly!" Zar called as loud as he dared just before Storm landed on the roof of a building. She flapped her wings at the last moment and dropped in near silence.

“There is Worran!” Zar said, pointing. Storm dropped from the roof to the street, knocking shingles loose in a clatter that made Zar cringe.

“Cinder has put up an illusion on each side of the street. He’s trying to make sure no one comes through, I’m not sure how much time he can give us.”

Zar nodded and drew his sword, leaving Lessa’s blade tied to her saddle. Worran, armed with his bow, pointed a knocked arrow to an iron door.

It took a single long breath for Zar to master his emotions. Now would be a very bad time to Snap. He shifted his eyes to see magic, there were heavy spells on this door, likely the reason it didn’t have guards posted outside.

He called to the foggy magic seeping from the ground into the streets and launched as much as he could toward the door.

“Stars, Zar,” Worran muttered as he pushed forward and started loosing arrows into the room.

Zar was just behind him and swung his sword at the nearest guard. They had clearly caught the guards by surprise, the first hadn’t even drawn his weapon when Zar loosed the blood from his jugular.

Another came at him, an arrow already in his shoulder, Zar dispatched him just as quickly. Two more launched at him, yelling as they charged. Zar ducked under the attack of the first and threw the man over his shoulder at his companion, he used magic to sink half their bodies into the stone floor.

A twang of Worran's bow felled the last moving body in the room.

The only conscious men were the ones Zar had just sunk into the ground, he dropped to a knee next to the man on top.

“Where is she?” he growled at him.

“I-”

“Don’t tell him anything,” the lower man said. “We’re dead anyway.”

“You are dead anyway. But I can make it hurt,” Zar said.

“Ha!” the lower man burst out. “You can’t do anything worse to us than what we’ve seen done here!”

Rage and fear swept Zar, he dropped his sword through both men and into the stone beneath them.

The sound of one gurgling on his own blood covered the sound of Zar's steps and he stalked away.

“Zar…” Worran said.

Zar ignored him and opened a door that led deeper into the prison. The hall led straight forward ahead of them, iron-barred cells lined one side, dark doors the other.

Zar jogged forward, keeping his eyes to the cells on his left, looking for Lessa’s form.

They reached a set of stairs that led deeper into the ground without a sign of Lessa.

Here, more guards were stationed in the hall. Worran's arrows discarded the lives of two before they even looked around. The others fell to Zar's sword rapidly.

Zar’s eyes moved furiously over the figures in the cell. A group of men were bunched to one side, and on the other side sat a bulking man, his skin was a dark brown, clearly a man from the Sennius. In his arms…

Zar’s knees hit the ground, his sword arm limp to his right. Had he not been looking he wouldn’t have recognized her. Lessa’s wild curly hair was gone, in its place were uneven clumps no longer than Zar’s. Her eyes were so swollen that there could be no possibility of opening. Her clothes were torn and hanging on her body, all modesty lost to anyone who cared to look at her. But Zar couldn’t see her skin, he could only see bloody oozing welts.

His eyes locked on her chest, was there movement? He couldn’t tell.

“Oh stars,” Worran said somewhere to Zar’s right. “Zar, I can’t open this door…”

Zar couldn’t move.

“Safe,” said the man who held Lessa in his arms. Zar’s eyes drifted up to the man’s. Sitting in stark contrast to the man’s dark skin were his purple eyes. “Safe,” he said once again and lifted Lessa slightly toward Zar, despite the bars separating them.

Movements slightly stilted, Zar stood and moved to the lock Worran was trying to pick. It was spelled to resist magical picking. Zar summoned Magic from the earth and instead of attacking the lock, he bent the bars of the cell open. Worran’s bow threatened the prisoners who all backed away, pressing against the back walls of the cell.

Zar stepped through the bars and at once put his fingers to Lessa’s throat.

Many of his own beats passed before he could detect one of Lessa’s. But it was there.

He sheathed his sword and scooped her under her shoulders and knees. He grunted slightly, Lessa’s limp body was blasted heavy. He summoned magic from the earth to aid him and she was much easier to maneuver.

“Safe,” the desert man said one more time, managing to use the one word to implore. Zar stepped back out of the bars and they straightened once he was clear.

As they walked, Worran with his bow out in front of them, Zar started reciting the healing spells he had learned under Cinder’s tutelage. He could feel the magic being consumed for the spell, but Lessa’s wounds did not respond. Stress surely had caused him to miss-speak the spell. Zar spoke the spell again, but again Lessa’s injuries remained.

A man was just beginning to pull himself off the ground when they crossed back through the guard station. Worran kicked him hard in the head and the man hit the floor again.

They rushed through the door and out to Storm’s nose waiting just outside. The dragon inspected Lessa and a low mournful keening loosed from her lips.

“Cinder!” Zar hissed into the night.

The old man did not appear. “Cinder!” Zar called again, louder.

Cinder jogged to them from around a corner. His eyes fell wide on Lessa and his breath hitched.

“Healing spells are not working!” Zar said, demanding a response with his eyes.

Cinder’s fingers went to Lessa’s throat and he waited for a long moment. He seemed to find a pulse because he continued on to examine Lessa’s arm. He conjured a small light above his palm and held it close to Lessa.

He gasped. “This is not good.”

“What!” Zar barked.

“It’s fairy rock poison.”

“Red fairy rocks?” Worran asked.

Cinder nodded grimly. “We can’t heal her until it’s been purged from her blood.”

“How?” Zar asked.

Cinder examined Lessa once more. “We need a healer…” He fumbled in his pockets and pulled out a map. He spread it on the ground under Storm’s nose. “Storm, look here. Can you take Lessa here?”

Storm studied the map then her eyes moved back to Cinder.

“Well, can you?”

Storm’s nose dipped once.

“Good. My sister lives there. If anyone can heal Lessa, she can. Her name is Ash, tell her I sent you. Make all haste…. Lessa cannot have long,”

“Help me up, Storm,” Zar said, adjusting Lessa so that he wouldn’t drop her. Storm reached around and her snout pushed the two of them up to the saddle.

“Will you meet us there?”

Cinder nodded, “I imagine it’s going to take some time to get out of the city, but we’ll follow as soon as we can.”

Storm’s wings swept up, and then down low, pulling them away from the street, they rose just above the buildings when someone’s scream shattered the night. That didn’t matter though, they were leaving.

The flight north was long, they were in the sky for hours, Zar had pulled his cloak forward around Lessa to share his warmth, though he didn’t know if it would help. A fever raged through her skin.

Every few minutes Zar would put his fingers to Lessa’s throat just to be sure her heart still pumped. If they were closer to the ground he could grant her strength from the magic there, but they were too high. He only had his own power to rely on, though he did send a constant stream of what he could spare into Lessa.

For the hundredth time, Zar’s eyes cast up to the stars, trying to calculate how much time had passed based on their rotation. And to pray. Zar had never been religious, but he swore himself to whatever divinity would save Lessa. And right now the stars were as present as any.

Storm finally dipped lower into the mountains after a full four, excruciating hours had passed. As was his habit Zar glanced around in his second vision, looking for magic, he was surprised to see a giant dome, a purpled pink in color. “Storm wai-”

The dragon dropped through the dome unperturbed. Zar could tell immediately what the purpose of the dome was. This side of it was sweltering warm, indeed just on the other side of the spell there was a sharp line of snow where the weather could not cross.

Storm’s back claws touched down before her front and she gently lowered herself down all the way. Zar didn’t waste a moment, he hefted Lessa in his arms and dropped to the ground, using magic to cushion his fall.

“Ash!” he called out.

There was a door in the side of the mountain, and a window paned with smooth glass. “Ash!” Zar called out again, carrying Lessa through garden after garden toward the door.

When he reached it he kicked the bottom of the door several times. “Ash, Cinder sent me. I need help!”

The door creaked open slightly and Zar shoved it open the rest of the way.

“He said you can help her.” Zar held Lessa toward the woman who had come to the door.

Zar could see the family resemblance at once. Ash was a stout woman, barely reaching Zar’s shoulder. She was wide with age and her frizzy orange hair was tied back in a braid.

“I can’t help her. She’s dead,” the woman had barely glanced at her.

“She is not! Her heart still beats.”

Ash glowered at him then looked back down to Lessa. “This girl has been poisoned with fairy rocks. She is as good as dead.”

“She will live.” It was an order for this woman as much as it was for Lessa.

Ash pressed her lips together. “What trouble has Cinder gotten himself into now? Bring her here.”

Relieved Zar followed the woman deeper into the mountain. She turned into a room with a hard platform that appeared to be more table than a bed.

“Place her there.” Ash pointed to the table and started washing her hands in a basin.

Zar remained at Lessa’s side, stroking her short hair as Ash moved from wound to wound, poking or prying at each of them.

“Why was this girl tortured?”

Zar did not, could not respond. He got to his knees and focused on the lethargic rise and fall of Lessa’s chest.

“Look, even if I did heal her. Which I’m not saying I will. There is little point. After this much abuse, the mind cannot recover. She will be less than a cripple. I can see what she is to you. Would you condemn her to spend the rest of her life in a coma? She will need to be fed and cleaned much like a baby.”

Zar stood and whirled on the woman. He could have been trying to intimidate his mother for all the good it did him. Ash blinked slowly in response, unimpressed.

“She can do this.”

“You can’t love her back into consciousness.”

Zar’s jaw ticked in anger. “You don’t understand who this is. There is a dragon in your garden mind linked with this girl.”

Ash’s eyebrow quirked up. She sighed and got a cloth and started cleaning Lessa’s wounds.

Relief flooded Zar, he rested his forehead against Lessa’s. “Stay with me,” he whispered to her. “Just a little longer.”

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