1st of Ash, Year 123 of Steel
An island on the Crystal Sea
There were three moons; the brightest limned the tower that she knew better than most.
I'm looking for the tower of learning.
I'm looking for the copious prize.
I'm looking for the copious prize.
Asallon's gate winked out behind them. Three full seasons had passed since she and her little band of Silver Wings had been here. The tower's location was stable in the slipspace now, and between their bond, Kala and her magus were able to direct the passage directly there.
The youngest goddess had sent word through shadowy channels to reach Venetia, but she didn't know if the woman would come. She had sent word through the Ara Saedene to reach Nessena, but she didn't know if the dragon would come. She assumed the Grimlord was aware of her presence here. His runic mark remained on her hand, the key to the Elliador Gate.
Kala hoped Venetia would come. The woman was a mystery she wanted to understand. She hoped Nessena would come. The dragon was a friend, and fluent in draconic, which could be invaluable. While she had spoken to dragons in Solunarium, as well as the Kalzasern princess' bonded dragon, and even Lord Aoren, her study of the draconic language was slow, slower than her growing mastery of necromancy, slower than her budding skill at alchemy.
Not only would draconic be helpful here, but it would be necessary to fully unlock the gifts of knowledge that the Necromancer had bequeathed unto her in Atoria.
Without words, Kaus, Ceran, and Indric took wing, circling the tower in a widening gyre to secure a perimeter. Kala's senses, magical and mundane - and even divine, were open to the possibility of peril. But she and Asallon approached the Elliador Gate, content to study it for a while until the boys returned. If nobody else joined them, then she would hold her hand to the tower and unlock it.
It still called to her after all this time, in a manner she couldn't pinpoint.