Book of Sorrows: Book 4 of A Dragon's Guide to Destiny

By C. M. Barrett

When a series of earthquakes in Tamaras rocks both the ground and an increasingly divided and troubled society, the people blame the earth dragons. Both the government and its opposition, the Austeres, ask Serazina, Heroine of Oasis to intervene. Although she learns that other dragons consider the earth variety to be rude, secretive, and possibly treacherous, her desire to keep the Tamaran chaos from affecting Oasis takes her into danger.

In Tamaras, she, Druid, the Dragon of Destiny, Phileas, Guardian of Oasis, and Tara, a cat who's used up more than a few of her lives, discover a society with undercurrents at least as treacherous as the earth dragons.

Tamarans pursue pleasure in order to escape a mysterious emotional pain whose source is unknown. The Austeres, enemies of self-indulgence, waste, and welfare, say that the people can only become happy when they replace sensuous excess with stripped-down simplicity.

Investigating further, Serazina and her companions discover that the source of Tamaran disruption is a mysterious force called the Book of Sorrows. To learn its secrets, they must go deep into the earth to face both the giant Dragon queen and a race of beings whose name no one dares to speak.

• Language: English
• Publisher: C. M. Barrett
• Release date: Aug 11, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301306749

C. M. Barrett

On my mother's side of the family, I come from a line of storytellers. My grandmother's stories ranged from my grandfather's arrest for draft resistance in England during World War I, the uncertainty of life during the Troubles in Ireland, to the day she decided to leave her marriage (but didn't). My mother's stories described a rural childhood that to a child of a suburb of little boxes seemed idyllic. Both of them encouraged me to read and provided me with books to feed a growing habit. When I was seven or eight, I discovered mythology, and the gods and goddesses in those tales were as real to me as the dragons and cats in my own stories are now. Thanks to my early training in fantasy, I like to hang out with dragons. Accepting the bizarre directions my imagination takes has allowed me to conjure up Zen cats, cougars, gossip-vending hawks, and other critters. Currently I live in upstate New York on a wooded piece of land not unlike some of the terrain in Big Dragons Don't Cry. Since 2000 I've belonged to the online writers' group, Artistic License, subtitled Shameless Blameless Hussies. They've read all my books, but don't blame them if you find errors, because they're shameless. I also paint, and the art on my book cover is one of my watercolors.

Book preview

Chapter 1

The evening sun poured fire on the sea. Serazina sighed with deep contentment.

After the deserts of Etrenzia, I thought I'd never enjoy the feeling of sand again, she told the small cat who sat beside her on the beach.

Tara purred. "This is our sand, and it doesn't whirl around in giant clouds and bury us. It stays on the ground, as sand is meant to do."

I swear I'll never leave Oasis again.

Don't make promises you might be unable to keep.

Serazina shivered. The Green Lady, her supernatural (and sometimes sarcastic) connection, was interfering again. Did you hear that? she asked Tara.

The cat hissed and jabbed at the air. She of the Ever-twisting Tail loves to flick it and topple your plans.

Doesn't She know we're only now recovering from a nightmare?

Ask me if She cares. She's trying to bring this world back into balance, and I'd bet a bushel of catnip she's found a new trouble spot. Before long, Her troubleshooters of choice will be off to risk their fur, scales, and skin on another dog-awful mission.

I hope you're wrong.

So do I, but prepare yourself.

Serazina looked up when she heard soft footsteps. I'll have to put that worry aside for now. Phileas is coming, and he looks very serious.

Tara's eyes widened. "Serious is normal for your mate. Tonight his face is grim. I think I'll make myself invisible by ducking behind a dune."

And eavesdrop? Serazina pretended to be horrified.

"It's what I do best. Curiosity never killed this cat." With a flick of her tail, Tara disappeared.

Serazina watched the Guardian of Oasis approach her. He looked exceptionally handsome in the long white robe he'd come to favor after their stay in Etrenzia, but Tara was right. The smile he put on when he saw her didn't do much to brighten the sober expression on his dark face.

He sat next to her in front of the dune and took her hand. One of the few pleasant effects of being imprisoned in a cavern is that I've come to appreciate open spaces and nature itself in a way I would never have believed possible.

To hear him say that made her feel that the sun was rising, not setting. So do I. I appreciate everything: sunlight, fresh air, freedom.

And knowing that Malvern Frost is dead and can never threaten us or our country again.

The harshness in his voice made her stare at him. Is something on your mind?

His shoulders slumped. Yes, but that was the worst possible introduction. Let me begin again. Serazina, do you have any doubt of my love for you?

She knew it was a trick question, but she could only answer it with honesty. None, nor of mine for you. If we are sitting here, whole in spirit—or nearly so—it's because of our love, and, of course, the animals' love expressed in the very practical terms of rescue.

Don't forget the human Oasans. I keep seeing the crowds that gathered at the airport when we returned. I never imagined the people loving me.

He'd never imagined anyone loving him. It was a testament to how much he'd grown emotionally that he could experience it. However, he was going somewhere with this, and she wasn't sure she would like his destination.

What do you want to say?

He bent his head. All right, no more flowery introductions. I'm terrible at them, anyway. I want to marry you.

When Frost had made their relationship public, she'd feared that this moment would come, but the distraction of being imprisoned by him and her subsequent recovery had helped her to push aside this difficult issue. Guardians of Oasis didn't marry, but neither did they fall in love. How could she explain that for her marriage was a prison as confining as that Etrenzian cave?

Serazina tried to avoid a direct answer. Why? It won't make us love each other more.

No, only our life together can do that, and I know that it will. We don't need a formal acknowledgment, but as a symbol, it would strengthen the will of the people. The marriage of the Guardian and the Heroine of Oasis will represent the path we've taken and will continue to take as a nation.

Serazina jumped to her feet. Even Oasan sand could shift and provide treacherous footing. That's a political speech. How long have you been preparing it?

You make it sound as if I calculated my best approach to the subject.

You're good at calculated moves. Who knows that better than I?

Phileas's pause suggested that he saw the danger in allowing Serazina to list notable examples of his manipulations. Then you object absolutely?

She stamped her foot. You haven't even given me a chance to think about it. My first thought is that no Guardian has ever gotten married, except for the first one.

There could be no finer example. Zena, the architect of the slave revolt in Tamaras, and Nathan, who led the people across the mountains to Oasis, were equals, as we are.

"As we are not, Serazina said. I'm not like you, raised from childhood to be the Great One. I'm—"

A simple field supervisor's daughter, Phileas said, a former laundry worker in the House of Healing, a woman of impeccably common origins.

* * *

Tara, who was also an expert at calculated moves, wondered whether it was time to make her appearance. In principle, she liked ceremonies and rituals. Orion had organized a big one for her when she'd been introduced to the feline world as the Kitten of Destiny, and all the cats had given her great-grandmother Misha a moving funeral. Formal celebrations of mating, however, stemmed from human values that she didn't understand.

Neither, apparently, did Serazina, and this made sense, since the young woman had been a maverick since childhood, unable or unwilling to conform to the now-declining Oasan tradition of mental mastery. Nor, as she had pointed out, had she been raised to see herself as a public figure.

Predictably, Phileas was missing these nuances. Tara thought he could benefit from a series of jabs from her paws, possibly with claws extended. Serazina's mate hadn't yet learned that on certain subjects she could be even more humorless than he—and that was saying something.

Make your move.

The Big-tailed One was checking in at all receiving points tonight.

Tara strolled out from behind the sand dune. Phileas glared at her, his mouth a thin line. It might have been a good moment for a smart cat to disappear, but mediation was in order, and Tara didn't see anyone else around who was up to the job.

I suppose you were listening.

I was peacefully sleeping, Tara lied, until the sounds of contention woke me up. If you two were fire dragons, this beach would be in flames. Would you like to tell me the cause for this fury?

Serazina preserved Tara's cover that she'd been asleep. Phileas wants us to get married in a big public ceremony to please the people. I don't like the idea for reasons you can surely guess.

"Although you may not be able to guess the reasons I do like the idea," Phileas said.

The headline would read Cat Caught in Crossfire. Time to duck or deflect.

Serazina, are you opposed to marriage or to the big ceremony?

I'd like the chance to think about it—alone.

Phileas apparently felt the heat from her eyes. In that case, I'll go away. He withdrew to a distant point down the beach.

That's better, Serazina said. Now I can breathe and think.

Would you like me to go away, too? Tara asked.

No, sometimes I think you know me better than I know myself.

That was the simple truth. Tara purred.

I know I love him, Serazina said. I want to live with him always. In Oasis, that usually means marriage, but the unknowns frighten me.

Like?

What does it mean to be the wife of the most powerful man in the country? Can I be as strong and independent as Zena?

Maybe more so, Tara said. You have gifts and allies Zena never dreamed of having. You'd be in a position to do a lot for the animals and people of this land. Since everyone already respects and admires you, no one would say you married your way into power.

That's all true, Serazina said. Why couldn't Phileas make a rational presentation like that?

If he did, you'd accuse him of being calculating.

Sometimes I don't like you very much.

Sometimes I don't care. You want him to be rational; but when he is, you accuse him of making a speech. The man has enough trouble balancing reason and emotion without trying to guess what you want to hear.

And so do I, Serazina said. Just imagine decades of this confusion—but I can't imagine them without him. I see that our marriage is inevitable, but he's not going to have it all his way.

Serazina stood up and waved to her lover, who stared at the ocean. Come back.

He approached her cautiously. She patted the sand next to her, and he sat.

I accept your proposal, Serazina said, on one condition. No big ceremony.

But the people—

This marriage is for two people.

Tara pounced before another emotional bonfire began. "I have an idea. Regarding the ceremonial aspects, can you meet at some halfway point? What about a small celebration that you can show on those big screens? Why not make it more about Oasis and the cooperation between all animals? Don't forget that many of them would also like to be involved in the festivities. Put the more-or-less permanent mating of two individuals in the background."

What do you mean, more-or-less permanent? Phileas demanded. I'm not a cat.

Tara hissed. More's the pity. If you were, you might have a better attitude. You might be listening to your mate and coming to an agreement instead of a standoff.

Phileas's black eyes shot out sparks. Overall, it was a fiery day. Most men only have to argue with their wives—or future wives. I have to face two adversaries.

It's part of the miraculous process that leads us to Oneness, Tara said. Returning to the involvement with other animals, maybe you could balance the human celebration with one in the swamp. Invite the air and fire dragons, those kind creatures who showed their love for you—

"You were listening!" he roared.

Caught. Tara had too much dignity to either deny or affirm the accusation. She continued with the swamp ceremony idea, which was chasing her like a lively kitten.

It's something that's been needed for a long time. Let the animals share a day with you. How can you imagine celebrating your love without Druid present? That dragon would fill the ocean with his tears if he were excluded.

He'll fill the ocean with his tears if he's there, Serazina said.

That's beside the point. Your hometown wouldn't exist if he hadn't put out the fire Malvern set. The people would still be shivering beneath their beds in fear of the Dragon if he hadn't risked his life to show them he was a friend.

The cat has a point, Phileas said.

The cat, indeed. He was still angry with her, but because she was a cat, she didn't care. I like the idea of a ceremony that tells the humans the animals are their partners.

Phileas took a deep breath, and Tara could almost see him extinguishing his fiery anger. The good thing about the Guardian of Oasis was that he'd been trained to dissolve emotion. That was also sometimes the bad thing.

The best thing about him was that he, more than any other human in the land, could listen to ideas and evaluate them without prejudice. Your suggestion obliges me to admit that I haven't been totally comfortable with the idea of a formal wedding. To avoid my discomfort, I tried to force it on Serazina. I thought it was my duty. Now I see that I was chaining myself to tradition without considering the concept logically.

Tara waited for him to thank her for her cool-headed intervention, but she saw that she would wait a long time. She also saw that the glances Serazina now gave her lover were heating up the sand. It was time for a thoughtful cat to leave, but another sand dune beckoned a mere hundred feet away. She'd be well within earshot should trouble erupt again.

* * *

Serazina appreciated Tara's tact in leaving at the right moment, but once she and Phileas had spent their desires, she wished the cat were still present. Phileas, who in a few crucial areas demonstrated a total inability to learn, began to talk about the possibility of her becoming pregnant.

I've researched the subject, he said. On the average, once an anti-pregnancy device is removed, it takes two to three months for pregnancy to occur. Of course, this statistic varies according to the age and sometimes the race . . .

She listened to the dreary round of facts and figures for a little while, but each hard-edged number stabbed at the ache of remembering how Malvern Frost's hired doctor had torn the device from her body. And even if Phileas couldn't feel that pain, how could he have forgotten that Frost had intended for them to provide sperm and eggs to create a child who would grow up to be his puppet?

Does the concept of sensitivity escape your awareness? she finally demanded.

I don't know what you mean.

I guess that answers my question. It was horrendous enough being imprisoned by the arch-enemy of Oasis.

In case you've forgotten, I was there, Phileas said.

"But you weren't me. You don't understand that I can't think of pregnancy without imagining what might have happened. Maybe it's because the male of the species is used to depositing his sperm into the most convenient orifice, even if in your case it was a cup, and forgetting about it. And maybe women are handicapped by eons of tradition of expecting a baby to grow inside them, but—"

Silence!

Don't try to silence me! You make me want to say twice as much.

Sorry. He bit his lips. If you think I can ever forget the horror of knowing that Frost intended to use us as raw material for his dictatorial designs, if you think I've shrugged off the feeling of utter helplessness, you don't know me at all.

He might have zero experience, but he was learning fast.

Of course, if he'd succeeded, we never would have been alive to see the disastrous results. Still, I'm haunted by the idea that brilliant minds and profound emotional awareness are no protection against unscrupulous cunning.

She would never find a better time to tell him what was really on her mind. Phileas, thank you for saying that. I don't bring up the subject to make us both feel weak and helpless. I don't do it to reactivate trauma. I would like you to admit that beneath your immaculate mental shield, emotions continue to rampage. Can we finally do something about it?

What makes you think my mental shield is so immaculate? Stop treating me as if I'm still the Guardian you met well over a year ago.

Oh, I know how much you've changed. She tried to look seductive, but she was no good at it. He shifted to his serious, analytical mode, decorated with a dusting of emotion.

The ceremony the villagers held to cremate Frost's body released the first layers of trauma, if only because I could be certain he was dead. As far as other layers go, I'm trying to rebuild my physical strength and to feel safe again.

Then we should wait to get married. We've only had a few months of whatever passes for a normal relationship. I don't want to make a decision while we're both out of whack and, let's face it, still getting used to each other.

Her use of reason and logic derailed him for a moment, but it wouldn't last. She'd recently discovered that whenever she happened to jump over to his side of the fence, he jumped to hers.

I thought of all that, he said, but I realized that for me it's an act of faith. It represents a level of trust I never thought I'd have.

Those romantic and heartfelt words made her forget that she was supposed to be discouraging or at least delaying this marriage and pregnancy business. Instead, she hugged and kissed him and marveled at her great fortune.

Then you agree? he said.

She felt as if she did until she realized it wasn't so much marriage as the troublesome child issue. Serazina braced herself.

As long as we're having a heartfelt conversation, I need to tell you my other concerns about having a child.

Chapter 2

Phileas knew he wasn't going to like what she would say, but he'd made too many mistakes in a very short period of time to risk more. Tell me what they are, he said in the calmest voice he could manage.

First of all, you don't have to remind me that I never had the birth control implant replaced. However, I haven't yet ovulated. I know that because I've used a testing device daily. I'm also instructing my body, through the neutralization process, not to ovulate.

He tried to breathe deeply and stay calm. And how, as a matter of scientific interest, would that work?

Very simple. Like every Oasan woman, I was given the anti-ovulation implant upon reaching puberty. My body's been trained to regard ovulation as an unnatural occurrence, and I've directed it to prevent this from happening. Now, here are my reasons for not wanting to become pregnant, and could you try not to take this so personally?

He didn't know how else he could take it. Oh, for the days when reason and logic had automatically overridden emotion. I'm listening.

First of all, don't forget that I'm nineteen years old.

Phileas flinched. Her overt intention may have been to remind him that Oasan practices favored a woman delaying pregnancy until her mid twenties. He could have reminded her that tradition made an exception for the production of an heir to the Guardian, but that would only reinforce her argument that he saw her primarily as a depository for his precious genes.

More painfully, her words reminded him of the age difference between them, which may have been her disguised intention. No need for that; every morning when he woke up to the sight of her young, unlined face, he had to face his fears that on those mornings when she woke up first, she wondered what she was doing with a man more than twice her age.

He knew the fears weren't all on his side. She'd said often enough that their age difference underscored her lack of experience in life. She worried that he would find her boring and naïve. She was indeed naïve, but no one could ever experience boredom with someone as tempestuous and unpredictable as Serazina.

It's not just a matter of physical age. I want to experience more before I settle down to motherhood.

She'd experienced being the first human in unknown ages of time to communicate with animals. She'd had hair-raising episodes in three countries, flown on dragons, helped to topple heads of state, and gone through numerous other exciting experiences. Phileas couldn't imagine what remained, but he kept his mouth shut.

Hoping that the sight of nature might calm him, he turned his gaze to the trees of the swamp, but they provided no balance. Their brazen red and flagrant gold offended him. The flamboyant colors proved nature's lack of logic. Instead of inflaming people's hopes that this year winter might not come, all leaves should dull to gray in a more realistic announcement of the dying of the year.

He preferred, however to gaze at the gaudy splendor of autumn than to look into the flaming eyes of his beloved.

The people, he said before he realized that was the exact wrong thing to say. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Is it so unreasonable to want an heir?

Her lush lips (courtesy of her Dolocairner father) tightened, exaggerating the planes of her magnificent cheekbones (courtesy of her Etrenzian mother). Aside from her having three times saved her country from the machinations of Malvern Frost, would-be dragonslayer and despot, Serazina was revered as the embodiment of what was possible when races intermingled. Since she'd been named Heroine of Oasis, countless Dolocairners and Etrenzians had married.

It was staggering—and to Phileas more than a little frightening—to contemplate future hybrids, some of whom might have Serazina's gift to blend mind and emotion, thought and intuition. That, of course, assumed that they wouldn't, as Serazina far too often did, refuse to acknowledge the role of intellect in a well-ordered life.

He was far more willing, well, somewhat more willing, to admit that reason and intuition mixed into a powerful brew, especially when enhanced by her gift of reading hearts and minds. However, a world in which all would drink of this potion wouldn't be the one he had been raised to preserve. That world, of course, was changing at a rate that made him feel as superfluous as a dying leaf.

Phileas noticed that Tara had returned. Her blinking eyes announced, as surely as the autumnal flames that lit his beloved's face, that trouble was once again erupting.

It's perfectly reasonable to want a son, Serazina said. "Everything you do is perfectly reasonable, and that's why you can't understand the countless unreasonable intuitions and feelings I have about a baby being the worst possible thing for me right now."

"Thing? It's not a thing. It's a living being, a human child, whom you could learn to love at least as much as that ball of fur you keep with you at all times."

The ball of fur hissed.

"I would love it as much as I love Tara. But, unlike her, it wouldn't be able to take care of itself for years. Do you think the world is so settled and peaceful that I can retire from service?"

I think the world is unlikely to be in that condition until long after we're both dead. And before I'm dead, I'd like to have an adequately trained heir.

If you're in a rush, I'm not the only woman in Oasis.

You are, however, the only woman I love.

If only I could be sure it was love and not the rampant urge to get an heir from the woman who qualifies as the most likely candidate.

What do I have to do to convince you?

Learn patience!

Fine, I accept that as rational.

With that concession, his inner wall of resistance collapsed, revealing some unattractive truths. He saw, written in stark emotional colors, that he had as many reservations about the idea of having a child as she did, and the causes were rooted in his disturbing ambivalence about his role as Guardian of Oasis.

The weeks spent in Etrenzia, where he had primarily traveled incognito, had made him realize how much he depended on his title to give him an identity. That sense of self, which had once fit as comfortably as a skin fit a snake, now chafed him. He wanted to be more than the person tradition expected him to be. He knew a larger Phileas writhed inside this dying skin, but he feared to shed it. In a way, it would make him as vulnerable, if not more so, than Serazina felt with the absence of her anti-pregnancy device. Who could anticipate what frightening things might happen to a man who longer knew who he was?

He remembered, too, the memory he'd had while incarcerated in Frost's desert cavern, the recollection of a small boy who'd never had a choice about who he became, a child who'd been wrested from his mother and made subject to his father's harsh guidance. How could he possibly wish that for his son? He might argue that he wouldn't be that kind of despot to his child, but he couldn't trust himself not to follow tradition.

One more thing, she said. Returning to the subject of Malvern, even though I couldn't have killed him, I was glad when the snake bit him and glad that El'Ral finished him off before I had to decide whether to heal him. Why? Because he wanted to take my baby.

That baby wasn't real.

To me, it was. I reacted as any mother would.

How unjust! Phileas exclaimed. Haven't I already said how I felt?

"You did, and I believe you. Now, go deeper. Be truly honest. Imagine that right now we have a baby, a small, helpless infant who depends on us for all his or her needs, who must have unconditional love. How do you react?"

Though the air was still warm, Phileas felt as cold as if he stood, exposed, on a Dolocairner mountaintop, assaulted by the savage teeth of a blizzard. I'll fail. Like my mother did.

He covered his hands with his eyes and wept.

Serazina held him until, with a shudder, he clamped the lid on emotion.

I wish you wouldn't do that, she said. You're entitled to more than thirty seconds of feelings. If only you'd let yourself know that tears release pain.

I'll believe that when I'm convinced that this Green Lady of yours isn't some supremely gifted sadist.

We all have days when we're not sure about that. Look at it this way. Would it be just if someone came to you for healing and blamed you for identifying the source of their pain?

No . . . but some do. I see your meaning.

And what if that person avoided you in the mistaken belief that this would prevent the pain from re-occurring?

As I avoid opening myself to the Green Lady?

Yes, but more importantly, as you've avoided speaking to your mother about this experience.

He shuddered. That would be very painful.

Yes.

But I must.

Only if you ever want to be a parent.

Chapter 3

The full moon's reflection rolled in a sea as green as Druid's scales. I missed this sight most of all when I was in the Etrenzian desert, he said.

Desert Rose stroked his forepaw. I find it so soothing that it makes me wonder if I have a bit of water dragon in me. Perhaps it's only that I so enjoy the company of this particular one.

Druid steamed a little. Though he'd met her in the company of fire dragons, she had enough air dragon heritage to give a certain flourish to her speech.

A tiny form approached them. Tara, Druid called. Come join us.

I was planning to, she said. In fact, I wanted to know if I could sleep in a corner of your cave tonight. I need a change of scenery.

Always. Druid wondered if the need stemmed from an argument between the Guardian and Serazina.

Tara settled herself in Druid's paw. Desert Rose, are you enjoying the swamp? The climate is very different from Etrenzia.

And very different from the windy mountains of Dolocairn that would be natural to my air dragon heritage. Were I living in the heart of the swamp, I would likely find it unendurable, but the sea breezes are so refreshing, and I'm used to sand.

She turned to Druid. And, of course, I find the company delightful.

Steam escaped from Druid's ears. No more delightful than your sweet self.

That's the kind of talk I like to hear, Tara said. Desert Rose, have the other swamp residents been welcoming?

Wonderfully so. I'm delighted by the variety of species. So much to learn from each one, and from each animal as an individual. I don't see how one could ever be bored here.

Variety has kept me going for five hundred years, Druid said, and I am deeply at peace to know that here I'll remain. This has always been my home, but now I embrace it with all my heart.

Serazina was saying something similar a little while ago. Tara looked up at Druid. That was before Phileas came along bearing a proposal to enact some human ritual called 'marriage.' It's a public declaration that one will mate only with a chosen partner.

Dragons have something similar, Desert Rose said. Such ceremonies usually occur because the partners intend to have dragonlings.

Tara scratched her ear. Phileas has that in mind, as well, but Serazina says she isn't ready. One of her arguments concerned lingering trauma around Frost's plans to use Phileas and her as raw material to build a Guardian.

Desert Rose turned very pink. From my point of view, no other argument would be necessary.

I agree, but she has others. Specifically, she says she's too young. Mention of her age always makes Phileas irrational and unhappy. They seemed to be working it out by the time I left, but I suspect that the issue isn't closed. However, I bring good news. They have agreed to hold a ceremony in the swamp to celebrate their union.

Druid was about to clap his paws together until he realized Tara nestled in one of them. That is glorious news. Have you told Gris?

"That bird is no nighthawk, and my nerves are still a little raw from mediating. I don't think they could take his squawking. Besides,