Talon the Black (Dragonwall Series # 1)

Chapter 52 - Sharing A Secret

Kastali Dun

Claire's eyes flew open. Panting and covered in sweat, she pushed her blankets away. Tonight marked the fourth night this week. She got up and lit a candle then sat cross-legged upon her cot to think.

The dream was the same as before, bits and pieces, strange scenes, riding on the back of a red dragon, a dark cave with a lake, a blue Dragon Stone, images she hardly comprehended, except one—a single picture that was unforgettable. Kane's glowing red eyes were burned into her mind, staring back at her through the reflection of the lake water. They'd haunted her for days. She knew them well.

"Ever since I started drinking that stuff," she whispered, shaking her head. She was nearly a slave to it now, regardless of the nightmares. The Aegan was incredible, no doubt about that. Something like it in her home world would sell faster than any drug on the black market.

Unable to fight it, she got up, and made another draught of Aegan water. If she didn't, the consequences would be far worse. She'd learned that the hard way.

You must learn to control the voices. Aegan weakens your mind when you sleep.

She knew Cyrus was right. She had to find a way to control the Drengr voices without using potions. But what did Cyrus mean about the Aegan weakening her mind? Was Kane toying with her from afar? Her eyes widened in fear as she thought of his Nasks. No—she shook her head. It was impossible. Reyr had said so himself. Kane had to be present to exercise the magic needed to create a puppet. At last, she sighed. If she didn't talk to someone about this, it was going to eat her up inside.

Her mind jumped back to the dreams. What did they mean? She thought about what she saw. In every scene, she was present. Yet she couldn't make sense of what she was doing. Was she seeing the future? No, that couldn't be right. Saffra was the seer. Saffra was a prophetess. There was no way she possessed abilities like that. Hearing the Drengr? Sure. But that was where her strange talent ended.

The morning dawned more exhausting than the one before. With each day, she lost increasing amounts of sleep. Over a week had passed since first taking the Aegan. She was beginning to fear it, to hate it, to love it. Sleep was a small price to pay for feeling better.

You cannot hide from your abilities forever.

Cyrus was quieter when her mind was numb. Though, when he did show himself, it was in the form of protests, complaints, and indecipherable statements.

She and Desaree spent the day working in the gardens outside the servant's dining room. The private cookery's garden had become her favorite place. It was easy to see why. Its sun-soaked greenery sat just within the keep's outer wall. She could hear the city beyond, reminding her that a whole world existed outside the keep. If only she could explore it. She longed to know Dragonwall better.

Within its walls, raised planter boxes were arranged in neat rows. They held every herb imaginable: rosemary, thyme, sage, oregano, parsley, to name a few. Each aroma, mixed with the sea breeze, combined to create a divine smell.

In many ways, the garden reminded her that Dragonwall was not so different from her own world, and these herbs were the evidence. Yet, Dragonwall was lost somewhere in time. Where there was technology in Earth, there was magic in Dragonwall. And somehow, that ability to conjure cures and speak words that could do just about anything, had eliminated the people's desire to advance into what she considered modern times. In a sense, that was the beauty of it. She hoped Dragonwall would never be tarnished by pollution, plastic-filled trash heaps, airplanes, cars, and all the other negative stuff that came with her home.