Summer's Fall Read online

  There's nothing to stop people from leaping from the docks! Omen realized with a start. If this music is reaching all the way into the city, there will be hundreds of people swarming the docks.

  "Omen! Grab that man!" Avarice shouted down to him.

  A young red-haired man had slipped past Omen and was heading toward the garden railing. That's Rinlan from the stables. Omen hesitated. If I let the gardeners go, they'll disappear down the stairs.

  "Sorry!" he said to both, releasing one and punching him hard across the jaw. The youth went down like a sack of potatoes, hitting the ground with a hard oomph.

  Omen knocked his second charge to the ground before turning and running toward the stable boy, who had climbed up the banister. Omen reached out and caught Rinlan's arm just as he fell. Despite dangling over a deadly drop, Rinlan never made a sound, nor did he take hold of Omen's hand. Omen hefted the young man to safety, but the moment Omen released him, Rinlan stood again and turned to climb on the banister once more. Omen grabbed the back of Rinlan's belt and pulled him roughly away from the edge.

  "Stop that!"

  A moment later Omen felt a crackle of energy all around him as his mother's magic washed past him to encompass Rinlan. From one instant to the next, Rinlan stiffened and collapsed to the ground, Avarice's spell sending him into a deep slumber.

  Glancing back up at the upper garden, Omen saw other servants dropping to the ground as well, all forced into deep sleep by Avarice's magic.

  Omen felt a little queasy, but realized his mother had just saved their lives.

  He turned his gaze toward the cliffs where the dragons still fought to keep people from jumping over the edge. The dragons had resorted to similar tactics as his mother, using magic to put people to sleep. Melian after Melian dropped to the ground, unconscious.

  There are far too many of them. More are coming! He worried about the lure of the haunting song.

  Omen spied an old woman coming from the house. That's mother's seamstress! He ran toward the patio doors, and roughly shoved the woman back inside, pushing the doors shut. Through the glass, he could see several other servants heading for the outside. This isn't the only way out of the house! There's nothing stopping them from going out the front doors! He agonized over the two side doors to the lower garden and the servants' entrance by the kitchen.

  Holding the doors, Omen turned to see the beach below filled with people — more were appearing on the cliffs. Omen tried not to imagine what was happening down by the docks.

  The haunting music had to have reached all of them, calling out to the citizens, calling them toward the sea. "We can't hold back the entire city!" he shouted to his parents, frantic.

  Melia is my home, these are my neighbors.

  Along the cliffs, another dragon leaped into the air, catching people who'd managed to reach the cliffs' edge before they could fall to their deaths.

  Sundragon Andrade, the youngest and smallest of the Hold Dragons, plucked drenched Melians from the surf and carried them to the beach. But once he'd dropped them into the sand, they just got back up and continued their relentless march toward self-destruction.

  A new song, bright and clear, vibrated through the air, real and powerful. It enveloped them all.

  The dragons near the cliffs had started to sing. Their voices echoed with deep, powerful harmonies that rang through the air, carried through the earth and overwhelmed the terrible dark music creeping through everyone's mind. The physical sound was impossible to tune out, low and mellow, inhuman in tone, but beautiful in the way of a flawlessly played instrument.

  All around him, Omen felt the air vibrating, energy rising and pulsing through his bones.

  The dragons had all lifted their heads to the cloud-filled sky, great jaws open as pure harmonies burst from their throats.

  Omen felt a sizzle in the air and sensed pulses of power running through the ground. They're using the ley lines, Omen realized in awe. They're invoking the spells of protection on the city. Though Omen had never seen it, he'd heard that shortly before his parents had arrived in Melia, the entire country had been shrouded by a magical shield that had kept the rest of the world from seeing the land. Melia had been lost to the world for many centuries.

  For reasons of their own, the dragons had chosen to remove the shield, allowing foreigners to their shores — for better or worse.

  Though the shield was gone, Omen had always been told that those protections still surrounded Melia, awaiting the moment the dragons reawakened them.

  The crowds of people who had been pressing toward the cliffs stopped. Men and women on the beach ceased their mindless march toward the water's edge. They stood blinking in confusion and looking around them in alarm. Their eyes widened, awestruck as they saw all the dragons surrounding them.

  The dragon song is blocking out the haunting music. They're free!

  "Omy!" Tormy cried out. "Miss Penelope is not stopping!"

  Omen turned toward his cat — Tormy had snagged the apron strings of an old woman who'd come from around the side of the house. Omen recognized her immediately as the Scaalian cook who regularly made treats for the cats and Kyr. But unlike the Melians around them who had awakened from the strange stupor caused by the terrible song, Old Penelope was still blank-faced and lost, still trying to walk down the stairs toward the ocean waters.

  "The dragon song is only affecting the Melians," Lilyth cried out, catching on immediately. Lilyth pointed toward the far cliff again.

  While groups of people stood upon the cliffs, milling about in confusion, freed of the spell that had consumed them, Omen saw a few stragglers still walking forward, still heading toward the deadly drop below. The dragon song had only awakened the native Melians — the foreign population was still walking toward their death.

  "Omen, I need you to shield your brother," 7 called out. His father stood at the edge, hands braced on the banister as he stared out to sea. Four distant dragons still circled the waves, searching for something in the water.

  "What?" Omen had released his hold on the door, letting the Melian servants inside free. Though bewildered, they immediately ran forward to grab hold of Miss Penelope. Others had caught a young Nelminorian maid still trying to escape the house.

  "Take over shielding Kyr for me," 7 commanded. "And Avarice and Lilyth — you're going to need to shield the cats. I don't think they're actually affected by the song, but I can't be certain."

  "What are you going to do?" Avarice demanded. Omen could see fear in her eyes.

  7 threw a sharp glance at each of them. "The dragons can't reach the creature causing this." He pointed toward the circling dragons out at sea. "It's too far below the water. If I don't stop it, it will kill all non-natives in the city — and the dragons can't keep singing indefinitely. We don't have time to argue — do as I say!"

  His father rarely raised his voice, but Omen knew better than to disobey, despite burning to protest. Didn't he say not to fight the Widow Maker? Didn't he say it was a fight I couldn't win — that it was too powerful!

  He felt the shift in his mind, felt 7's protective shield pulling away as his father turned his attention elsewhere. Frantically, Omen shifted the song in his mind, increasing the tempo, taking the melody line up a step. Too much music! he thought in despair. Between the Widow Maker's eerie song, the dragon song, and his own mnemonic melodies, he was having a hard time concentrating on his own defenses. Block it all out — tune everything out except the pattern!

  His shield expanded, and he pushed his thoughts outward toward Kyr, surrounding his little brother's mind with his own shield, keeping it just outside the layer of protection created by the bracelet. He held back the creeping, grasping claws of the Widow Maker's music.

  Omen felt the shift in Lilyth and his mother — felt them both reaching to modify their own shields to encompass the cats. His mother lacked the powerful psionics of the Daenoth line, but she'd had years of psionic practice with 7. Her mind did not waver. And for once
Omen was grateful that his little sister continuously surpassed him psionically — her shield was strong and steady.

  Without the buffering force of his father's mind, Omen could feel the malignant power behind the Widow Maker's song. It crept over him, dark and insidious, eating away at the edges of his shield. There were thousands of voices mixed in with the song — thousands of cries of lament and sorrow that pulsed endlessly and beat at him with the force of the ocean's tides.

  Vicious light blasted through his senses. A shockwave of deafening thunder struck at the same instant, assaulting his mind so suddenly that no amount of shielding could lessen the crushing pain. Omen fell to the ground. Beside him he heard his sister and mother crying out, both stumbling back and falling. Kyr shrieked and crouched in terror, wrapping his arms around his head as he curled into a tight ball. From the cliffs the dragons roared with alarm — deep, blaring voices that screamed defiance, their song utterly broken by the ear-shattering noise.

  Then silence settled over the garden — pure, still, simple. Through the ringing in his ears, Omen heard the dull crash of waves from the beach below. Overhead, seagulls called out, riding on wind currents.

  A soft brush of fur against his neck startled Omen, and he pushed himself up. Tormy was leaning over him, nuzzling his face, furry whiskers tickling his neck. He caught hold of the cat's ruff and pulled himself upright. His father was still leaning hard on the banister, breathing heavily. Omen realized with utter shock that the terrible noise had originated from 7. It had been the sound of 7 striking out at the Widow Maker with his mind — deafening all of them, even through their shields.

  The Widow Maker's song was gone.

  Omen scrambled to his feet. Lilyth was already standing, so Omen hurried to help his mother up. When she waved him off, he picked up Kyr instead. The boy was trembling, but seemed unhurt. He stared up at Omen, silent and pale.

  Omen turned to his father. "Dad?" Omen heard the tremble in his own voice. "You all right?"

  7, blond head bowed, arms shaking, just nodded in response. Avarice moved to his side, gripping his arm as she studied his face. She bowed her head, then tilted up to catch his eye. Omen saw something powerful pass between them, and he retreated quickly, feeling like he was intruding.

  All around, befuddled people milled about trying to make sense of their prolonged blackouts. Those affected by and released from the Widow Maker's song wondered how they came to be on the beach or on the cliffs. Panic fluttered as they discovered their friends and neighbors slumbering on the ground, ensorcelled by magical sleep. But soon delighted murmurs rose, and they took in the sight of the myriad of Sundragons. Trusting fully that the mere presence of so many Sundragons meant that all was once again well, the Melians left, bewildered but unhurt.

  "Help the others inside," Avarice called to the servants, releasing those her spell had put to sleep. The Daenoth servants rushed to obey. The two gardeners that Omen had punched groaned in pain as they limped away.

  Omen felt guilty and didn't look in their direction as they left.

  Turning his attention to his father, Omen asked again, "Dad, are you hurt?" Beside him Kyr had calmed down and leaned heavily against him. Omen kept one arm around the boy, reassuring him.

  "No. Just tired," 7 replied, shaking himself as if trying to wake up.

  "We're about to have company," Lilyth pointed skyward.

  Two dragons circled overhead. Omen recognized them by their secondary colors: Lord Amar and Lady Frey. They hovered briefly, back claws extended downward as if they intended to land directly on the balcony. Their great reptilian bodies blocked the sky entirely, the wingspan of both dragons shadowing everything around Omen. But before their claws touched the stone pavers of the patio, both forms shimmered with light, and from one instant to the next the dragons vanished from sight utterly. Instead two tall, golden-haired people — a man and a woman — stood beside them.

  Omen recognized Lady Frey immediately — breathtakingly beautiful, draped in a white gown, golden hair swept back from her brow and revealing the still, inhuman dark sapphire tones of her eyes. The man beside her was clad in a blue tunic that reminded Omen of the uniform the Untouchables wore. He could have been Lady Frey's brother, so similar in appearance were they. Tall, golden-haired, with bright golden scales edging the side of his brow and gleaming in the fading evening light. Omen had never seen Sundragon Amar's human form before, but would have known him immediately by the sky blue jeweled tones of his eyes.

  "Thank you for your assistance, Prince S'van," Sundragon Amar said without preamble, inclining his head to 7. "Did you kill the creature?"

  "No." 7 sounded regretful. "I'm fairly certain I only frightened it."

  "The thunder rang and a thousand voices slipped their chains, and sailed off to the distant shore." Kyr, still speaking in Kahdess, startled them all. Both dragons looked shaken.

  You don't see that very often, Omen thought, an icy chill running down his spine.

  7 clapped the boy on the shoulder. "Poetic, Kyr," he smiled faintly. "But that's a fairly accurate assessment of what happened. The instant I attacked, the Widow Maker threw a thousand imprisoned souls into my path while it made its escape. The full force of my attack hit those minds, not the creature itself. It's frightened and angry, but uninjured."

  Dad freed a thousand souls?

  "Angry enough to attack again?" Lady Frey asked, her attention on the immediate threat.

  "I have no way of knowing," 7 admitted. "Perhaps. It's thousands of years old — possibly millions of years old. There's no guessing what it will do. It's a survivor — it may not risk attacking again, or it may come for revenge for all the souls it lost."

  "Something has gone terribly wrong for a creature like the Widow Maker to swim the ocean freely," Amar replied.

  Omen shot a worrying look toward his mother.

  Avarice shook her head minutely.

  This has something to do with the Autumn Lands! But how much can I say about Indee's quest without triggering the hex mark on Kyr?

  Avarice gripped his shoulder. "Omen, take Kyr and the cats and go and search the neighborhood. See if any of our neighbors need help. People may be hurt."

  He wanted to protest, but the sharp, pointed look his mother gave him kept him silent. He'd have to trust her and his father to deal with the dragons, find out what they could and perhaps convince them to aid in getting Indee to lift her hex. He hesitated, warring with his own curiosity. They'll tell me afterward, he assured himself.

  "Come on," he steered his brother away from the group, and reached out to grab hold of a fistful of Tormy's fur. "Let's go see if anyone needs help."

  "I is betting people is needing dinner!" Tormy purred eagerly. "We is checking on them so they is eating dinner."

  "I is betting people is needing to give us dinner!" Tyrin added as he squirmed out of Kyr's hands and climbed onto the boy's shoulder again. "I is not liking that song we is hearing. The dragon song is being better."

  "Omy's music is betterestest," Tormy agreed thoughtfully as he capered after Omen back inside and then once more into the city.

  ❖

  It was nearly noon the next day before Omen had a chance to talk to either of his parents. Both were gone when he'd returned the night before with Templar in tow. Neither Templar, Liethan nor Bryenth had been affected by the Widow Maker's music — all of them able to shield their minds despite being fairly unskilled with psionics. Omen's friends had spent the bulk of the attack desperately trying to stop people from heading down toward the beach.

  Still can't wrap my mind around how quickly everything happened.

  Afterward, Bryenth had returned to his Hold to aid his father and the other Hold Lords. Liethan had raced down to the docks to see what troubles had unraveled there. But Templar had remained in the park to help a boy who had fallen from a tree when the music had caught hold of him. The crack to the child's skull had required a healer, and Templar had stayed until help arrived.


  We got lucky. Omen recalled the look on his father's face. Maybe luck isn't the right word.

  Templar had been excited by the prospect of a quest to Kharakhan and a trip into the Autumn Lands, and he'd returned home through the Cypher Rune Portal in the Daenoth Manor to seek permission to travel with Omen from his father. Wonder if Antares will allow it. Omen felt hopeful.

  After filling their bellies, Kyr and the cats had seemingly forgotten the events of the day and had curled up to sleep soundly — exhausted and mindless of the worry that gnawed away at Omen.

  He could understand Templar's excitement — the prospect of a quest was thrilling. But the thought of taking his little brother into such danger shook him to the core.

  What am I going to do? If the Widow Maker is already watching, how are we supposed to cross the entire Luminal Sea? His sole consolation was that his father seemed capable of chasing the creature off. But at what cost?

  As the morning wore on, Omen grew more and more nervous. An inexplicable feeling of doom swished around in his stomach. He couldn't settle down and ended up pacing around the manor aimlessly. His parents searched him out at noon. His mother led Kyr and Tyrin away to try on a new coat she'd been making, and Omen was left to speak freely with his father.

  "Your mother and some of the dragons spoke with Indee," 7 began without preamble. He motioned Omen to follow him down the main staircase to the foyer. "According to Indee, only when Khylar is free can the hex be removed from Kyr's hand."

  "Do you believe her?" Omen asked. Tormy blithely skipped ahead several steps, bounding down the stairs like a fluffy, bouncing ball.

  "Doesn't matter." 7 smiled, clearly amused by the question. "You're stuck. You and Kyr have to go to Kharakhan, and you have to find out what happened to Khylar."

  Knowing he couldn't say anything that might indicate refusal for fear of activating the hex, Omen carefully worded his next question. "And what about the dragons? Didn't they have some issue with this?" He couldn't imagine the dragons would be pleased by Indee's hexing — not that any of them would stand against her. She was the wife of one of the most revered dragons in Melia, and the Sundragons followed a strict hierarchy.