Bones of the Dragon - Margaret Weis [209]
“I’m going alone,” Skylan stated in a grim tone that silenced further argument from Bjorn or anyone else.
Skylan knew he was acting recklessly, venturing off on his own. He could not risk bringing a companion, however, for he did not plan to pay his respects to Vindrash. He planned to humble himself before her, fall down on his knees, beg her forgiveness. The draugr had guided him here, perhaps for this very reason. Skylan hoped that if Vindrash forgave him, she could persuade the draugr to quit tormenting him.
He armed himself with his fine sword and picked up his shield. He thought of Raegar as he buckled on Blood Dancer, which had been Raegar’s gift. Skylan was truly grieved at the loss of the big, jovial man, but he was also a little relieved. Raegar alone knew the truth about what had happened to Skylan on the Isle of Apensia, and that secret was now drowned in the dark blue depths of the ocean.
Thinking this, Skylan was assailed by guilt. The last thing he needed was to be plagued by Raegar’s angry ghost! Skylan put his hand on the hilt of the sword his cousin had given him and asked his shade’s forgiveness. He vowed to give Raegar a rich grave gift on their return.
The terrain surrounding the bay was flat, a mixture of sand and dirt dotted by groves of pine trees, clumps of sage, and tough, bristly grass. The place had changed little in two years, since the last time he had come to the Dragon Isles with Norgaard to make the Torgun’s offering to the Dragon Goddess. A poor offering, for they had gone on few raids, and those had not been particularly profitable.
No trail led to the Hall of Vektia, despite the fact that the Vindrasi came here often. Wind and water swept away all traces. Skylan remembered the way, however. The Hall was not difficult to find. A man standing on the beach faced the rising sun, turned to his left, and walked a gently rising slope until he came to the Hall, which stood on the highest point of the large island, atop a cliff overlooking the sea.
Caught up in the tangle of his trouble, Skylan walked with his head down, not paying particular attention to his surroundings. If memory served, the ground rose gently until he reached the Hall. He was startled, therefore, to come suddenly upon a small lake.
He did not remember a lake, and he wondered irritably if he’d come the wrong way. Upon closer examination, he saw that this wasn’t a lake. A large depression had been deep enough to catch and hold rainwater. The same storm that had raked them at sea must have struck the Dragon Isles. That would account for the formation of the new sandbar and the formation of this oddly shaped body of water. He walked along the edge, idly speculating on what had made the odd-looking depression. Reaching the end, he was disconcerted to see, some distance away, another depression filled with water, roughly the same size and shape as the first.
“Skylan! Wait for me!”
Skylan turned to see Wulfe chasing after him.
“Did you know the draugr is following you?” Wulfe announced, coming to fall into step alongside Skylan.
Skylan placed his hand on the hilt of his sword and turned to look.
The draugr was walking along behind him, her feet leaving no mark on the sandy soil. The draugr came to a halt when she saw Skylan turn to confront her. She did not come closer, but stood gazing at him fixedly.
Skylan broke out in a cold and clammy sweat. “I am going to the Hall of Vektia,” he told the corpse. “I’m going to beg Vindrash to forgive me. I will do whatever she asks of me to make amends to you, Draya! I swear this by Torval!”
He hoped the draugr would see that he was in earnest and leave him alone. Draya remained, standing on the ground, leaving no mark.
“I’m doing what you want!” Skylan cried. “This is why you brought me here, isn’t it?”
“No,” said the draugr. “It is not.”
Bright white light burned like a star in the draugr’s breast, and the corpse burst apart, exploding in a ball of fire like a lightning-struck tree. The blast hurled Skylan to the ground. He lay on