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  MAGIC’S GENESIS:

  RECKONING

  Book 3 of the 30 Stones Saga

  Rosaire Bushey

  Magic’s Genesis: Reckoning - Book 3 of the 30 Stones Saga Copyright © 2019

  by Rosaire Bushey. All Rights Reserved.

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

  may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  1-Farewells

  The desolation of Ep’Muta was complete. The garrison that once protected the island and the coast from hostile ships now sat as a charred and broken ruin with the remains of Garprax, a green dragon, at its center. Wynter had escaped into the Melting Grae and Lydria could only stand numbly and cry as she watched Sanprax, a very young green dragon, touch the cold snout of his father – a father, Lydria was keenly aware, who laid down his life to spare her own.

  The night which had been a riot of noise and screams only two hours earlier was now still as the survivors sat numbly in the quiet reflection of victory and watched as the night gave way to the coming of dawn, a barely perceptible pink edging its way into the eastern horizon. The light would extinguish the solitude and give way to the inevitable aftermath of battle - collecting bodies and reorganizing what was left.

  Rykaba, Dynast of Dar’Ahlmon, found Lydria among the debris. She looked up at him and smiled, taking the hand he offered and rising to her feet beside him. The Dynast had accepted her gift of healing and he stood now straight and tall, no longer the crooked boy of books she had met just days ago. By leading his soldiers in battle, he had come into his own, earning the respect and devotion of his people. Around her, Lydria found her friends unharmed, and she began to cry again, realizing she had lost nothing while so many others had lost everything.

  Holding Rykaba’s shoulder, she turned a circle, taking in the destruction and death. The bodies of scores of Qorghal and dozens of the Dynast’s soldiers, still lay still where they had fallen. The debris of the fort scattered in all directions, the beaches around it littered with its remains.

  “Lydria.”

  Kimi. She looked down and saw the cat sitting by her feet, looking up. It was a gaze she recognized as a rebuke. “You think I’m indulging in pity?”

  “I do. There is much destruction here, but there is also life. You need to see the life. Look around you, and where does everyone look? They look to you. Even Rykaba, looks to you. You are the Prime Wielder. Only through you can this be made right. It is unfair perhaps to say, but you do not have the right to feel pity. Not now. Not here.”

  Dropping to a knee, Lydria pulled the bobcat’s head toward her own, wiping her tears in its soft fur. “You are right.” As she stood, she considered her father, Cargile, and what he would have said, and she knew Kimi was correct. There was no crime in crying, or even in self-pity, but it was something that needed to be done alone, or in the company of only a very few, trusted confidants.

  She squared herself with the Dynast Rykaba and offered her services to help rebuild his fort.

  Rykaba looked around him and smiled. “Your offer is most generous, Wielder, but Dar’Ahlmon has plenty of people who will be proud to rebuild here. Plus, there are improvements in our defenses that reconstruction will allow us to put into practice.”

  Krieger, Grettune and Perryn, Relin, Haustis, and Hokra, Lydria’s friends who had followed her in an effort to stop Wynter, they all made their way to join her in the middle of what used to be the fortress and stood behind her as she walked alone to Synca, the mate of the enormous green dragon who lay still amidst the ruins.

  “Synca, I have no words…”

  “Be at peace, Wielder. Garprax did what he needed to do. That Wynter was here at all was a decision the greens made together, and he has atoned for this decision…on all our behalf.”

  “What do we do?”

  “I’m not entirely sure. We dragons have no traditions for death, so I am unsure as to how to proceed. We are not easily buried.”

  Hokra and Rykaba came to stand beside Lydria, the Prince of the Chag Ca’Grae on her right and the Dynast of the Ahlman on her left. “If it would be well with his family, we would be honored to maintain Garprax here, at the center of our new fortress,” Rykaba said.

  “And I would be honored to build him a tomb such as befits his sacrifice,” Hokra added, with a deep bow to both Synca and Sanprax.

  The young dragon looked to his mother and nodded and Synca spread her wings and lowered her head to the level of the Chag Ca’ Grae. “Let us all build it together, young prince.”

  The dragons along with wielders Hokra, Lydria, Grettune, and Perryn, stood around the body of Garprax and bent their will and their magic toward building a tomb, a blue light surrounding the structure as it took shape. Hokra pulled from their power and shaped from the ground an enormous slab of white quartzite shot through with small threads of gold and green. The quartz formed a table that raised the dragon several feet off the ground. This was followed by an eruption of land in various spots throughout the island, bringing up chunks of marble and granite that were brought together around Garprax and worked by Hokra into scenes of colored stone around the tomb; scenes that showed the majesty of the dragon on one side, and the dragon with his mate and child on the other. When it was finished, the tomb’s floor stood at Lydria’s shoulders, and while the others admired the work, Hokra moved around the base pinching the stone and molding it with his immense hands and strong, thick fingers to provide an ornate, sculpted base.

  “Thank you – all of you. You have honored my father, and all dragons.” Pulling his wings away from his body, Sanprax jumped into the air and circled the stone sarcophagus and landed gently upon it, curling up almost immediately and going to sleep, resting with his father one last time.

  After their work with Garprax was finished, Perryn and Grettune set up a large table with chairs, and Rykaba’s staff brought food and drink to their sovereign and his guests. Synca lay down so her nose rested near the table, though she did not eat. No one said anything as the food was passed from hand to hand, and the full light of the rising sun pierced the darkness to start a new day.

  Their meal began in respectful silence, their talk picking up as the late autumn sun warmed them, and by the end of the meal there was muted laughter and the Dynast invited them all to return to Ep’Muta for a dedication of the new fort when it was completed.

  “Until that time, I look forward to a lasting peace and friendship with our friends of the north – not only Wesolk, but also with Solwyn, if your king will have us as friends,” he added the last to Grettune, whom he shook by the hand fondly. “And your child is welcome as an honorary citizen of Dar’Ahlmon,” he added, by way of apology to the threat given by a late member of his staff toward the status of Grettune’s child should it be born within the kingdom.

  “Children,” Perryn corrected. “Twins.”

  “You know this?” Rykaba smiled warmly and hugged Grettune who whispered in his ear, “triplets, but don’t tell Perryn.”

  The Dynast held her at arm’s length and smiled again, his eyes wider than ever, and he looked up to Perryn who stood several feet behind her. “They,” he corrected himself, “are welcome always as friends of Dar’Ahlmon – as are you all.” He turned then to Synca and said, “if ever there are those of your kind who wish to make their homes here, we have plenty of space where there will be n
o one to bother you.” The dragon nodded her head in grateful appreciation and thanked the Dynast.

  “I must be off,” Rykaba said at last. “We will gather our troops, bury our dead, and make our way north. I would offer a guard to escort you, but I somehow think four wielders can easily handle any bandits and highwaymen foolish enough to challenge you.” More quietly, to Lydria, he added, “I owe you more than I can repay. Not only have you cured my deformity, you and your friends have helped cure Dar’Ahlmon of a sickness that kept our people separated and kept us from understanding those from the north. I hope we see each other soon.” He waved to the others and called out, “My friends,” as he turned from the table and made his way to the beach where a small boat returned him to the mainland. By the time Lydria and the others were ready to go, most of the cleanup work had already been accomplished. The soldiers of Dar’Ahlmon were fastidious and efficient. Teams had started the work minutes after the last Qorghal was slain or had fled. Synca and Sanprax thanked the wielders and told them they would fly north to their new home on the island of Thrushton on the Great Lake. Lydria’s company would travel north together - for the first time since separating at Port Ogdam weeks earlier.

  On the mainland, Lydria was met by Ilyadra, former leader of the Dar’Duz and now a commander with the forces of Dar’Ahlmon, and valued ally of Rykaba. “The Dynast has left camels for you – and you will find horses and provisions waiting for you in Swinton.” The woman looked at each of the party, holding their gaze for several moments, memorizing their faces.

  “Because of you, my people have no fear of being hunted. Some will head to Dar’Ahlmon immediately and others will stay in Duzmet to help rebuild the city.” She paused again, choosing her words carefully, trying to find the right ones to convey her gratitude. She settled on saying thank you and hugging them each individually. “The Dynast has guaranteed the safety of the Dar’Duz and has put in motion plans for the reconstruction of Duzmet. He is the leader we need.” Ilyadra started to turn away and went back to grip the hands of Perryn and Grettune. “The Savior of the Dar’Duz and his family will forever be welcome in Duzmet. My people owe you – everything. Travel well and good luck to you and your family.” Ilyadra cupped Grettune’s face in her hand and turned suddenly away to take charge of her soldiers and head home.

  The camels Ilyadra had left were already kneeling, and their wooden saddles strapped in place. Climbing on top of the beast, Lydria called several times for Kimi, encouraging him to join her on the saddle. He was hesitant, but after some prodding and ribbing from the others, the bobcat jumped onto the saddle in front of Lydria and with the gentle swaying of the camels, they began their journey north.

  2-Next Steps

  The ride north was uneventful. Travelers were out in far greater numbers than Lydria had noticed during their travel south, largely owing, she believed to the cooling weather. The desert of Dar’Ahlmon was ferocious in mid-summer, but autumn had altered travel, and she knew, so had they. Many along the road stopped to say hello and thank the Wielders in person, some traveling far out of their way for the chance to shake their hands. They traveled east from Duzmet to Dar’Ahlmon mostly. Hastily packed caravans moved south from Swinton, eager to be among the first to reach the supply-needy Duzmet, encouraged by the Dynast’s notice that fair prices would be guaranteed by the Golden Palace.

  About a mile from the outskirts of Swinton, they were met by a rider and escorted to the best accommodations the town could offer, which were truly sumptuous given that so many well-to-do traders and smugglers worked through the crossing. The next day, they found horses and loaded wagons, and a specially cushioned carriage for Grettune.

  “The Dynast wishes you well and has provided gifts for you and for King Edgar in light of the new dawn he hopes Wesolk and Dar’Ahlmon will find.” The man handed the reins of the horses to Krieger, the emissary of Wesolk, and moved quickly down the street presumably to return to his home in the south.

  From Swinton they moved as a group to Port Ogdam where they split again – Krieger, Perryn and Grettune heading north by ship up the lake. Grettune so she would be home when her children arrived, and Krieger heading to Bayside, to bring the newly signed treaty and gifts from the Dynast to King Edgar.

  “We will go to Safarngal,” Lydria told them at the landing on the southern edge of the Great Lake. “We need to find a way to the Melting Grae, and perhaps the dragons there can help us.” They waited until the boat had come and then Lydria with Kimi, Hokra, Relin, and Haustis, made their way back to Safarngal to consider how they would accomplish the impossible. Using the Sword of Wilmamen and a Stone of Power taken from the dragon Garprax, Wynter was able to rip through the air, creating a gate that allowed him to enter the Melting Grae. With the sword in his hands still, there was no way they could think of to follow him.

  Riding west from Port Ogdam was easier and faster without the wagons. There was no road or trail for a wagon, and Hokra noted that if the Chags were to rejoin the world, they would need an outlet to the lake and a road would be necessary, as would ending their self-imposed isolation from the rest of Eigrae.

  Along the way Kimi couldn’t help but point out there was no sign of Qorghal. He could neither see nor smell them and their stench, which was pungent to the bobcat, was muted far more than he would have believed possible. “It’s as if they’ve been removed from the place,” he told Lydria one morning.

  Lydria knew the cunning cat’s nose was not wrong. A season before she had found two wolf spiders outside the ruins of Nethyngal and magically enlarged them, charging them and their kin to forever be hunters of the Qorghal, the small, misshapen beings who were remorseless and lived only to kill. The spiders would be as a fox among hens until enough Qorghal survived their assaults to let their kind know they were now something they had never been – prey. She shuddered a little at the thought of the giant spiders hunting the Qorghal, and though she realized she was solely responsible for their fate, she also believed they deserved no better. Balance had finally been satisfied when the Qorghal were made prey for something else.

  So long as there were no Qorghal in the area, however, there should also be none of the giant spiders, who would travel to hunt them. Still, Lydria wondered if the giantism she had inflicted on two of the creatures had carried on to their offspring, and whether the agreement she made with the two to kill only the Qorghal among the two-legged creatures of the world, would be passed along as had their size.

  The trip to Safarngal from Ep’Muta took more than a week. Lydria and Hokra used magic to extend the stamina of their horses, and they ate in the saddle, anxious to return home. When the first Chag guard appeared from the brush as if by magic, the word spread quickly that their prince had returned, and they rode into Safarngal cheered as heroes by the people. The Chag King, Graenel, came to the river to welcome them and with him was the Eifen Ilsit, former leader of Eifynar. Lydria was glad to see the Eifen recovered from his ill treatment at the hands of the Qorghal, and Haustis leaped from her horse and ran to her father, strong once again, under the shadows of the cliffs on either side of the riverbank where the Chag made their homes.

  Despite Hokra’s insistence to his father that their mission was not successful – that Wynter had made his escape to the Melting Grae with the Sword of Wilmamen in his possession, the elder Chag ordered a feast by the river, under the shadow of a natural bridge that ran from one cliff-face across the waterway to the other side. The Chag often used this space to gather as it allowed them to be outside and yet still well protected from the sun.

  The entire town came out to praise the wielders and the Eifen who accompanied them. From the enormous caves at the top of the cliffs, the blue dragons Sturmgrae and Batra joined the festivities, sending gouts of fire into the night sky. Silently, in the fashion of dragons, they spoke to those who returned, congratulating them on their efforts. The dragons had heard all the news from Synca as she flew north as to what had transpired on Ep’Muta and Sturmgrae had
shared the information with both Graenel and Ilsit.

  “Both Synca and Sanprax Viridian have made their journey to Thrushton and Synca will inform the other dragons in Dragaven,” Sturmgrae told Lydria. “I am sorry we cannot be of more direct use, but I cannot fly – it will be only a short time before another true dragon enters this world.”

  Lydria smiled and congratulated Sturmgrae. She was happy for the dragons and thankful they had agreed to live and watch over the Chag Ca’Grae.

  On the third morning after their arrival in Safarngal, Lydria woke to find her sister staring at a small box which she put quickly away before urging her sister to make best use of the day.

  The morning broke clear and cool in the stone halls of Safarngal and Lydria walked from a small pantry with plates and bowls, to a table by a fire in a room she shared with her sister. Graenel had placed them in an old storeroom on an outside wall, and Hokra had shaped a window so they could make full use of the sun. As it was on an upper level toward the top of the cliff, it received good light throughout the day. Inside was as unlike a storeroom as any place was likely to be, with freshly carved reliefs on the wall that showed a historical scene of the Chags at work, mining precious gems. The artists had gone so far as to include several of the gems within the rock, so the work had color and life when the sun struck it. Beds of the style used by both Lydria and Haustis had been provided by the former’s magic, and furniture made of stone and wood was brought from elsewhere in Safarngal to make the space comfortable. Near Haustis’ bed was a piece of parchment and the remains of a broken seal Lydria recognized immediately as having come from Wesolk. It must have been one of the things left by Graenel when he welcomed them several days earlier.

  Working by a non-magical fire, Lydria cooked and gave her sister time to herself. Before they traveled south trying to catch Wynter, Edgar had asked Haustis to be his wife, and she had not answered him yet.