The Pity Stone by Tim Stead

Author:Tim Stead [Stead, Tim]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy, Fiction
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Thirty Six – Cobran’s Palace

Cobran’s palace was beyond belief.

It stood in a valley, nestled in the near impossible cold of the far north, a place where nothing lived that was not itself frozen and strange beyond words, and he saw grass and flowing water. He saw the sun higher in the sky than it could be. He saw magic.

There were no protecting walls here. This was not a city like Dun Vilant. Flowers bloomed in a wild profusion of colour beneath the walls of a glorious, convoluted building, white alabaster arches, golden towers and silver pillars, violating the frozen land. Fountains defied the ice.

Considering that Cobran was dead two thousand years it was a wonder indeed.

“How is it done?” he asked.

Avatar shrugged. It was a peculiar movement of the shoulders, almost human, but not quite. “Magic,” he said. “Dragons have no magic and know nothing of it.”

“Is it warm within?”

“If I tell you not to enter, you will. I know this now,” Avatar seemed almost resigned.

“But…?

“It is a prison. A creature is trapped within this structure that cannot leave, is bound there through the power of our will. If it sees you it will kill you, and for once you must believe me when I say that you are not its equal.”

Narak studied Avatar, but as usual it was a fruitless exercise. The creature was adept at showing nothing at all of what passed within its head.

“Tell me what lies within,” he said.

“Very well. It is Torgaris who is imprisoned here.” Avatar said the words as though they were some revelation, but seeing the lack of reaction from Narak he went on. “Torgaris is a dragon, one of the nine. He is also called the lord of despair. He believes himself damned and unredeemable. He is the only dragon on whom Pelion’s magic failed.”

“Failed? He has no conscience?”

“He has too much.”

“That makes no sense, Avatar. Too much conscience?”

“You could say that it has overwhelmed his sanity. Whatever words you hang on it, the truth is that Torgaris saw no reason to seek redemption or forgiveness. He has embraced despair and damnation as his lot.”

Narak looked at the palace, the flowers and the fountains. Such a terrible thing trapped in such a beautiful place made a kind of sense, like water might be employed to cage the hottest fire.

But Narak could sense something beyond the grass and the white walls. He could sense life. It was not precisely the creature that Avatar had described.

Narak was used to sensing the thoughts of his wolves, the simple desires and fears, the comfort and comprehension that passed for happiness. This thing beyond the wall was no wolf, and he should not have been able to sense it, but he could. There was no denying it. This creature was not the unmitigated servant of despair that Avatar had painted. In the midst of the darkness there was a flame, a blue flame.

How can you put a colour to something that you cannot see? Narak did not know, but he sensed blue, a hard, bright blue.

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