Page 31 of The Healing Dragon
The creatures do not venture close enough to magic wielders and, as far as I know, they definitely shouldn’t be anywhere near the human lands.
A second and third rustle of leaves announce the entrance of two more groups. On the right walks a trio of orcs. They are tall, but not as tall as the giants. Their height is usually around eight feet, and they are built like tree trunks. These three are no exception. Their faces are also not unfamiliar to me. I’ve seen them before at social events. They are the three sons of Kro, the current commander of their kind. They are to their people what Brandon, Roman, and I are to ours.
On the left are four duendes. The small creatures are human-like but also have a tree-like texture on their skin. They are usually kind and quiet creatures that care more to keep to themselves in the depths of the forest. The four here tonight are not any I have seen before.
“You are late,” Lord Duelo says to the duendes. “Did you bring what you promised?”
“We did,” they say in unison, then move out of the way to allow someone else into the circle.
Murmurs finally break out amongst the men around me as the creature walks forward. This must be their first time laying eyes on this creature. Mine too. I’ve read about it and heard stories here and there, but nothing concrete.
“She’s beautiful and scary,” a soldier says to my side.
“That is not a woman. Death has no gender,” another man whispers.
Their kind are not like the others in the group. They don’t organize powers and negotiate treaties. They do not claim lands or establish villages. Their homes are rumored to be in deep caves and only seen by the light of the moon.
“Calaca,” Lord Duelo greets.
His eyes take in the tall figure with glee. Long white sheets drape over its body, covering everything but the face. Calaca’s face remains unemotional and doesn’t return the greeting. Instead, it looks around. For a second, I fear its eyes might see under the cloth because its eyes stay on me for a beat, but after a blink, it turns back to the men in the circle.
“I have come here to hear your offer. Not to offer my services,” it says.
Their voice is like a strong wind. It carries through the circle and beyond without being loud. The sound is soft yet powerful.
Lord Duelo nods his head and turns back to his men. “For hundreds of years, we have been limited to what we can amount. Our level of magic has been restricted to keep some above others. The balances are about to change.”
He moves to the wagon and pulls off the cloth covering the top. The murmurs that follow are not from the surrounding men, but the creatures across the circle.
“Impossible,” the duendes say to each other.
“You have spoken true, dragon.” One giant inclines his head to Lord Duelo.
The Calaca takes a step forward, making the men around Lord Duelo raise hidden weapons. They point them at it, making it raise both its white bony hands in return. I do not think simple swords and daggers can do much, but I also don’t know if its magic works the way ours does in the human lands.
“I simply wish to take a closer look. It’s not everyday we see the infamous Red Book,” Calaca says with a glint in its eye.
Lord Duelo shakes his head. “You’ve seen enough. The book is not up for negotiation. It’s going to be a tool used to dismantle the restriction on all our magic.”
“How certain are you that it has any restrictions on our magic?” One orc asks. “We have found nothing in our ancestors’ books about our magic being limited by any law.”
“That is how long and forgotten it is,” Lord Duelo insists.
The tone that rings in my ears at his words tells me he isn't all that sure about the statement. It's not a lie, but it's not fully the truth. The partial truths have their own tone, and the noise is definitely coming from Duelo’s words.
“Will you keep the book?” the oldest looking duende asks, taking a small step forward. His eyes don’t leave the wagon.
“I don’t plan to get rid of the book. I plan to uncap the magic only of those who stand by me.” Lord Duelo doesn’t pick the book up, but his hand strokes the spine.
“By fighting the king of Puerto Quinn?” A giant asks. He turns to his companions. “What do we care if the magic king lives?”
“As long as the Oscuro reign continues, our freedom will be threatened. Many of you today live under constricting reigns of your own kind. The power of this book will bring us all an edge above our enemies. By fighting with me,you will choose your side and show your loyalty. You will earn your turn then and only then.”
The missing ringing in my ears punctuates how much he believes this to be true. Brandon, Roman, and I, by association of blood, stand in the way for Duelo. He probably believes that without Brandon, another Oscuro will be chosen to the crown next.
“We cannot guarantee all our people will follow us,” another duende says, while looking at his companions for reassurance. “We can try, but peace has been kept for centuries with the magic king. The new king is well liked.”
“I do not need them all. I need a few,” Lord Duelo says.
