Lineage (Book 3 of the Torrent Skies Saga)

Chapter Twenty: A Paltry Introduction, Pt 1

The tunnel past Dagir's drab chamber seemed dusty, unused, and long forgotten as they all walked its meandering ways. But in only a few minutes, Katerin could hear a hush of voices, Mordai's chiefly among them.

"I want to see what's going on," Katerin whispered. "Wait here a moment?"

Fykes gave her a squinting look, and she glanced to Kindra.

"We have no way of remaining quiet with her here. If you hear me speaking, come up."

Arjiah exhaled, "She's right. If they don't want to be interrupted, we might learn nothing."

"And what if we hear you fighting?" Fykes hissed in a whisper.

"Then come quicker," she said, offering him a smile to ease the tension in his shoulders.

Brazen gripped Katerin's hand momentarily, before she slipped into the shadows and glided forward to the tunnels next turn.

Light met her eyes in an almost blinding fashion, as three magical orbs illuminated a host of people standing before an arcane circle. Teleportation, Katerin thought, glimpsing the glow of the magic runes.

"We will not stand and do nothing, but you expect me to risk too much on your word alone." There was a woman's voice, and as Katerin turned her attention to it, she saw a high-blooded elf, she knew from the straight shoulders, that sharper than average ears, and tone of voice. The woman's long, straight hazel hair flowed in thick braids down her back. "Uhm'bantha has a plethora of its own issues."

"I agree," the next voice was not as refined as the elves, but still feminine, and came from a shorter human woman with a curly bob of dark hair atop her head. "I'm ready to believe you, and the Bay would be more than willing to help, but right now you've got nothing more than an amateur pickpocket."

There was a nod from the side. "A fistful of crumbs and sore wrists," a man said. He was bald, broad of chest, and just as tanned as the human woman, though his accent was decidedly Cadaran, thick and rumbling.

"We need proof of the armies movements, and until we have that there's nothing we can do." The elven woman waved her hand, and Katerin could see the glint of the rings she wore. Gold and intricate.

Mordai let out a lengthy sigh, and Katerin glimpsed him as he walked around the gathering of people. "By the time you have your proof you might be done for," he said, waving a hand. "It is a risk to not prepare."

"No one said we were unprepared," another man, who stood by the Cadaran, spoke. His voice held a refinement with a soft tone that was proven by the curl of his pale mustache as he stepped up beside the Cadaran.

"You were unprepared for an attack on Uhm'bantha," Mordai's tone was almost flippant, as he looked to the elf with one eyebrow raised.

"Nothing has ever broken the Silver Citadel's barriers," the elf said, her tone as cold as ice. "Those magics are old and sturdy."

"Dragons are older. Our enemy has powerful techniques and allies." Mordai's retort caused the elven woman to straighten.

"As of now, this Kryrial is only your enemy, dragon or not. You call again and have no proof." The Cadaran man was sympathetic and his shadow bowed its head.

"I can prove that Kryrial is the one who sent the dragon, because she is his very own wife. I can prove her location, and her other interesting... traits."

"How?" The elf turned, and Katerin could see the stern set of her mouth, and the smallest hint of wrinkles upon a near to flawless complexion.

When she spoke, Katerin noted that all the others in the room seemed to give her room, silence, and respect. Even Mordai refused did not interrupt her.