Diviner (13 page)

Jason leaped over the fire. No use negotiating with this monster. A quick strike was his only option. He spied his sword next to Mallerin’s tail and lunged for it. A volley of flames flew toward him. He dove into a somersault, grabbed the hilt as he rolled to his feet, and leaped up to the dragon’s tail. He ran along her backbone, sideswiping her protruding spines, and scrambled as far up her neck as he could. Grasping her with one arm, he hacked at her neck with all his might.

Mallerin jumped down from the boulder, threw Edison to the ground, and pinned him with a back claw. She then slung her neck back and forth, slamming Jason against the boulder. His wounded side struck first. A rib cracked. Blood flowed. His sword slipped out of his hand, and his vision darkened.

As she reared back to slam him again, a loud shout echoed all around.

“Mallerin! Stop!”

Jason struck the boulder again. Pain from the broken rib roared through his body. His grip around her neck loosened, and he fell, smacking the boulder once more. He slid to the ground and curled on his side, facing the dragon and the basin. His sword lay between him and the dragon’s claw, not quite within reach.

Mallerin lifted her head. “Who speaks to me?”

Blinking away the fog, Jason found the source. A floating sphere, dazzling white, drifted down from the sky. It stopped and hovered over the basin, its closest point within ten feet of the rim. It radiated heat, soothing warmth that eased his horrible pain. It looked exactly like the star from the Northlands, but how could that be? Exodus was trapped, hopeless, begging to die.

Beyond the sphere, a dragon that looked like Fellina flew toward the forest, while yet another dragon headed in the same direction from a different angle. Maybe Fellina was hurrying to pick up the boys, trying to rescue them before a patrol dragon picked them up. Jason squinted. Fellina had no rider. Where could Elyssa be?

The voice returned, this time softer and more feminine. “Although you have hidden your identity for so long, Mallerin, the Creator knows who you are, and Starlight has told me your secret.”

Mallerin wagged her head. “Away with you, sorceress. You know nothing about me. If you continue this bedevilment, I will crush this man into dust.”

Jason pushed against the ground. He had to get up and fight, forget the pain and save his father. He crawled on hands and knees, grabbing his sword along the way. Only ten paces separated him from the dragon’s pinning claw. Pain spiking in his ribcage, he gritted his teeth to hold back a gasp.

“Look at me, Mallerin,” the voice said. “Pay heed to my call. I will tell you a tale of days gone by, days when you were more than an executioner.”

Clawing the ground as he crawled, Jason blinked at the sphere. As in Exodus, a secondary light shone from within, human shaped this time, but the dazzling radiance and his blurred vision kept the image fuzzy and vague. The human looked like a girl wearing a cloak, but it was all so hazy. Dizziness swirled in his head, worsening with every foot of ground he crossed.

“You were a queen, a member of nobility, the leading female among the Separators. Oh, how far you have fallen! Now you are an executioner, grinding the flesh and bones of what you consider human waste, a job so distasteful to other dragons, even the drones refuse to carry it out.”

Jason’s arms trembled. He pushed his hands and knees forward. His father, facedown under Mallerin’s crushing claw, lay only five feet away, but the swirling sensation made the entire world spin. Mallerin wobbled forward and back, but was she really swaying, or was her imbalance just part of his dizzied view?

“While a queen,” the voice continued, “you referred to humans as chattel, as vile vermin, and you did so in a manner so degrading, you degraded yourself, proving yourself to be a pompous pig. You were so self-important, so condescending, everyone despised you. Although you provided the prophetic black egg, even your mate spurned you by banishing you from his royal court.”

Jason drew within reach of Mallerin’s claw. It lifted and then pressed down again, rocking as she wobbled. Bracing against the ground with his left arm, he raised the sword and aimed at her belly. He had to strike while she leaned back. Otherwise, she might press all her weight on his father. His arm trembled. His target wavered. Did he have enough strength to leap up and thrust the blade? A miss or a shallow plunge would mean death for him and his father.

A shadow appeared near the basin’s rim, a black egg, semitransparent and as tall as a human child. Jason paused, again blinking. Where had it come from?

The sphere’s voice grew louder, more passionate. “You are a mother, usurped by a fallen Starlighter, a human who now cares for your youngling, thinking she is more fit than you.”

A ghostly apparition, slender and feminine, approached the egg and petted the shell. As she solidified, her identity became clear—Zena. The egg cracked, and a black dragon crawled into her arms. Stroking its head, Zena walked away, and the images disappeared.

“The Creator is displeased with your wickedness. Your cruelty is despicable in his sight. Yet he also knows that you have a seed of regret. Your current estate has brought you low, and you know not how to climb out of this pit. The Creator offers you an opportunity to make amends.”

Mallerin rocked back and paused in that position, easing the pressure on her foreclaw. “What must I do?”

Jason flexed his muscles. It was now or never. He lunged toward Mallerin with his sword, but like a flash of lightning, another blade met his and blocked his thrust. The other sword-bearer wrapped both arms around him, and they toppled against Mallerin’s underside. Their combined momentum sent her staggering backwards. She flopped to her side, her neck reeling out like a wild whip. It slapped Jason and his opponent to the ground, pinning them, and Mallerin’s head thumped nearby.

The weight pressed down on Jason’s cracked rib. Pain shot through every limb, every joint, every nerve. His ears rang. Darkness cascaded across his vision. Only a pair of green eyes pierced the veil, sparkling and lovely.

“Jason, are you all right?”

Jason blinked. Elyssa? Was she the other sword-bearer? He forced out a pain-streaked whisper. “No.

I’m —”

A new voice interrupted. “Neither is your pappy. Both of you look like you were at the wrong end of a battering ram.”

“Tibber?” Jason murmured.

“Yep. And I ain’t a fibber about this. We have to get both of you to a hospital, if there is such a place around here.”

“The Northlands.” Jason licked his cracked lips. “Get the stardrop. Use the healing trees.”

“Healing trees?” Tibalt said. “Son, I think someone twisted your necklace a hair too tight.”

“Trouble him not, Tibalt. He is sane.” The sphere’s radiance drew closer. The girl within pushed back her cloak’s hood, revealing red hair and a kind smile. “I know what he means. The stardrop is deadly when a person consumes it, but it heals when administered in the proper way.”

“Koren?” Jason tried to focus on her, but her face stayed blurry. “The wolves. Taushin. What happened?”

“Fear not, brave warrior. All is well. No harm has come to me. I dwell within Exodus, and I will tell you my tale soon, but for now you must rest and allow others to bear your burdens.”

Jason touched the pouch on his belt. This stardrop was for her. Maybe someone could scoop two more out of Exodus and put them with this one. “Koren.” Every word seemed to drill a hole in his ribs. “Stardrop inside. For you. Must take.”

“Peace, Jason. Just listen and rest.” Koren lifted her arms and sang, and with each word, light poured out from the sphere at a point directly in front of her face. As thin as a rope, the radiance streamed toward him and enveloped him in a glowing embrace.

Rest, my brother, rest your mind.
Rest from battles, rest and find
That pain from wounds will fade away
As thoughts surrender, dreams hold sway.

 

Warmth caressed Jason’s skin—soothing warmth that dried his sweat. As he closed his eyes, the Exodus star, Elyssa’s worried face, and every other sensation fled away.

nine

 

W
ith the rays of late afternoon filtering through the surrounding forest, Randall stood at the dungeon’s back exit and gripped the gate’s wooden bars. The two dragons locked within had stayed put. Even before spending all night and all day soaking up extane gas, they could have broken out at any time, but they had kept their word. So far.

Patting his pocket, he felt the outline of the crystalline peg Arxad provided as part of the deal to allow the dragons’ escape from the portal chamber. At the time, it seemed like a bargain, but after learning that it provided only a one-way passage from Starlight to Major Four, it didn’t seem quite as valuable. Still, if they ever returned to Starlight, keeping it handy would be a good idea.

He unlocked the gate and swung it open. Time to set the stage for his performance. Everything had to be in place, or else his audience wouldn’t take the bait.

Inside the dungeon, a draft caught the edge of a sheet of parchment, weighed down by a stone, several steps from the gate. He entered and picked it up, reading it as he returned to the outside.

Randall,

I am working on gathering the troops we need for war on Starlight. Because of recent events that would exhaust my dwindling ink if I were to tell them, I was able to assemble
a
contingent of believers, but I will need more proof, or at least more leverage, if I hope to gather enough soldiers to do battle against the dragons. I will contact you in person soon so we can combine our efforts. Until then, I wish you well.

– M

 

Randall blinked at the partial signature. M? Who could M be? The only M around was Magnar, but he wouldn’t have written this. The author had to be a soldier, someone who could assemble troops. And since the note had been placed well within the dungeon, that someone had access to the key.

Randall stuffed the note into his pocket. The existence of a mysterious ally wasn’t exactly a comforting revelation. How many others now knew the secrets he had tried to keep? At least this ally would come to light soon. For now, he had to get back to his own plan.

Looking down at his clothes, he checked for any telltale sign of his hidden photo gun. Strapped to his thigh with a thin band, it seemed invisible beneath his baggy trousers.

He patted his belt where his scabbard should have been. Promising Orion he would leave his sword behind might have been a mistake, but it was the only way to get the coward to show up alone. Even then, the new governor likely wouldn’t keep his promise. His archers would be somewhere nearby, bows strung and arrows ready.

Taking in a deep breath and holding it, Randall listened. Quiet footsteps sounded, someone of less-than-heavy build crunching evergreen needles nearby. Randall stepped away from the gate and looked at a path that led over a grassy hill and toward the palace. Orion approached. Although concealed by a long, hooded cloak, his tall, lanky body and constant glancing from side to side gave him away.

Randall sneered. Those who have earned no trust rarely trust anyone else. In spite of the archers’ steady aim, Orion obviously feared an ambush. When he arrived at the dungeon gate, he pushed back his hood, revealing his hawkish eyes and nose. “What is your message?” he whispered.

“First,” Randall said, gesturing with his eyes toward the forest, “send your archers away. You alone are experienced enough to understand the ramifications of” — he leaned closer—“a draconic presence in our world.”

Their stares met. Randall firmed his jaw, matching Orion’s stony expression. Playing this game meant striking a confident pose, assuming a stance of superior Knowledge and position. He cocked his head and put on a half smirk. “Having dragon alliances puts one in control of any situation, don’t you think?”

Orion’s facial muscles relaxed. He nodded and walked a few paces down the path. “Archers!” he called. “Leave us! I am safe!”

Rustling noises erupted from the forest along with the tromping of feet. When all was quiet, Orion walked toward the dungeon, pushing a hand into a cloak pocket and withdrawing a photo gun. Stopping just out of reach, he aimed it at Randall. “While it is true that dragon allies are of great value on the battlefield, they are not so helpful when absent.”

Randall forced himself not to blink. “What makes you think they’re absent?”

“Shall I fire into the dungeon? That should blow up the only potential hiding place and likely disable any dragon allies who might be there.”

Stepping aside, Randall spread an arm toward the open gate. “Feel free to shoot, but you and I both know how long it takes your gun to re-energize. I will be able to disarm you during that time.” He faced Orion and spread out both arms. “Or you could just shoot me. The dragons will kill you before you fire another shot. You will never learn the secrets I hold, secrets that could give you control over not only Mesolantrum but also all of Major Four.” He half closed one eye. “Think of it. Viktor Orion would have the power to extend his goodwill throughout the world, granting favor to those who deserve it, the faithful followers who believe in his sacred crusades. Not only that, the great governor could extend that beneficent hand through space, take the Lost Ones into his protective arms, and bring them home to the shouts and adulation of every man, woman, and child on both worlds.”

Randall lifted his brow, signaling his desire for a response. He had practiced that speech for two hours, and it seemed perfect, but would Orion take the bait?

Orion lowered the gun, his expression willing, yet skeptical. “What do you want me to do?”

Randall clenched a fist. “Assemble our military forces. Every able man, whether active or retired, must be called to duty, including those in neighboring regions. There is a portal that will take us to a land in Dracon’s northern climes, and we will be able to attack the dragon realm by surprise, rescue our people, and make sure no foul beast ever crosses to our world again.”

“Why would dragons betray their own kind?”

Randall took a step forward. “A usurper has taken control there, and the deposed king wishes to restore his rule. If we help him, after we succeed, the high priest of that land will close every portal forever, and both worlds will live in peace.”

Eyeing Randall carefully, Orion matched his forward step. Now within an arm’s reach, Orion laid the gun in his palm and extended it toward Randall, but as he did, he whispered, “Take my weapon, Randall, so your dragon friends will believe that I am going along with your plan.”

Randall glanced from Orion’s eyes to the photo gun and back. Moving slowly, he slid his fingers under the gun and lifted it from Orion’s palm. “Why are you doing this?”

“I am an expert in reading a man’s heart, and I am certain of your good intentions. But hear me. You cannot trust these dragons. You lack the experience to consider all the possibilities. Have you thought of the ramifications of sending our entire military to Dracon? Not only will we be vulnerable for attack and takeover by the dragons, we could be marching into a trap that will kill every soldier we have.”

Randall ached to look back at the dungeon, but he kept his stare fixed on Orion. He had a good point. Although Arxad seemed honest and reliable, Magnar was far from either. Maybe the bigger, stronger dragon had intentions beyond Arxad’s knowledge. “Your reasoning is valid,” he replied, his voice even quieter than Orion’s. “What do you suggest?”

“Allow me to speak to your dragon friends so that I may propose sending a squadron to investigate. They will report their findings, and if they corroborate the dragons’ claims, then we will send whatever forces are necessary.”

“A test makes sense,” Randall said, “but the dragons are nervous, too. They’re taking the risk that you might conquer their world and not give it back to the deposed king. How can I convince them that you’re trustworthy?”

“I brought a token of my goodwill, and I offer it without any conditions attached.” Orion raised a hand and snapped his fingers.

A new rustling sounded from the forest. Randall took a step back, reaching for the sword that wasn’t at his hip.

Orion half smiled. “Easy, boy. I sent my archers away, but I said nothing to my personal bodyguard. Do not fear.”

Seconds later, a broad-shouldered man lumbered toward them, cradling a woman in his arms. Dressed in white silk, she appeared to be sleeping peacefully, but shadows hid her face.

“Lay her here,” Orion said, “then go to your quarters. I will see myself home.”

The man laid her gently on the path, then, clutching a sword hilt at his hip, bowed to Orion and marched away.

Orion swept an arm toward the woman. “I found your mother, and I now restore her to you.”

“Mother!” Randall rushed to her, knelt at her side, and set a hand on her cheek. “Mother, wake up. It’s me, Randall.”

Orion curled a hand and looked at his fingernails. “We gave her a mild sedative to help her rest. She will awaken soon.”

Randall shot him a hot glare. “If I find out you had anything to do with her imprisonment, I’ll …” He let the threat die on his lips. He had to control his temper. His mother was safe, at least for now. Inhaling slowly, he rose. “How did you know you needed my mother as a bargaining tool?”

“Bargaining tool?” Orion chuckled. “My dear Randall, I have given her to you freely. My bodyguard merely held her in the forest until I was sure it was safe to bring her out. Lady Moulraine has been my friend since childhood, and I would never want to see any harm come to her. If you are looking for an enemy, I suggest you turn your attention to Drexel. When you told me about the note you found in his quarters, I conducted an investigation. My bodyguard found your mother bound and gagged in Bristol’s quarters, and you know who held Bristol’s leash. She was hungry and thirsty, but unharmed. I hope this gesture convinces you of my goodwill, at least enough to convey confidence to the dragons.”

“I see your point.” Randall slid his hands under his mother’s body and lifted her as he rose. “I will talk to the dragons.”

Sitting near a fire in Taushin’s quarters, Zena stirred the embers with a poker, giving the flames new life as they roasted a lamb on a rotating skewer. Taushin lay next to her with his head propped on her lap and his neck draped over her legs. His body stretched out to her side, shimmering black scales a stunning contrast against her silky white dress and the floor’s ivory tiles.

She stroked his scales with Cassabrie’s finger. It was such a delight to be able to see the details of the king’s room—marble floors, velvet tapestries, and ornate carvings in the hardwood walls depicting exotic, long-tailed birds, sleek cats, and huge beasts with woolly coats and long tusks. Surely Taushin deserved this opulence far more than did Magnar.

With her lack of clear vision, it had taken hours to remove Magnar’s personal belongings. She usually dared to use the finger only on rare occasions, believing the Starlighter’s body to be a slow-acting poison to her own flesh, but Taushin had assured her that more frequent touches wouldn’t bring great harm.

Now that she was able to see, one item caught her attention, a photograph of Magnar and Arxad hanging on the opposite wall, taken centuries ago when they were young and humans had such image-capturing equipment. Sitting side by side, they each wore metal collars and chains. Magnar must have kept that photograph to remind him of the cruelty of his former slave masters.

Zena narrowed her eyes. It would be gone before the day was over. She would see to that.

Breathing a satisfied sigh, she crooned, “Your dinner will be ready in a few moments, my king. After you eat, I will make sure your rest is undisturbed. I assume such a dangerous flight has left you exhausted.”

Taushin stretched out a wing and yawned. “I am tired, but there was little danger. The scent on Koren’s boots worked perfectly.” He laughed. “Even a blind dragon could follow it.”

“But you are not blind now. I can see quite well, so your vision through me should be clear.”

He turned his head, allowing Zena to rub the scales behind his ears. “Not as clear as when I look through Koren’s eyes. Although you are a contemptibly inferior vessel, you will suit my purposes for now.”

“For now?” Zena stilled her hands and forced down a lump in her throat. “What do you intend to do with me?”

Taushin’s blue eyebeams drifted up her arm until they finally settled on her eyes and drilled into her mind. “Fear not,” he said. “You will always be my servant. I cannot afford to sacrifice loyal slaves for no good reason. When I get Koren back as my surrogate eyes, you will serve us meals and clean our abodes. Koren and I will be too busy with other matters to attend to menial tasks.”

“You mock me!” Zena jerked her head to the side, blocking his beams. “Why do you test my loyalty with insulting words? Why do you provoke jealousy between Koren and me?”

“It is quite simple, my companion in blindness. I want Koren to be your enemy. I want you to be ready to kill her at any moment if I deem it necessary.”

“Why? She is pliable. She changes her mind constantly. She is not the insolent wench that Cassabrie was.”

Taushin’s beams found her eyes again. It seemed that his thoughts entered her mind at the same time he spoke, like a dull knife gouging her senses. “No, Koren is not Cassabrie, but she is still a Starlighter, and she is dangerous. It is your right to hate her, for although she is no better than you and although she became my servant as you did, Alaph approved of her. This same Alaph rejected you, a servant of dragons, and allowed Cassabrie to strike you blind. The injustice is clear.”

The horrid memory returned to Zena’s mind—Cassabrie’s vengeful, mocking verse as she cooked while attached to the Reflections Crystal.
This view of light will be her last; her eyes will darken, sight is past. Unless she holds my hand in faith, she staggers blind, a hopeless wraith.
Then Cassabrie transferred energy from the crystal and sent a blast from her eyes into Zena’s, scalding them and crippling her vision. And for years Arxad and Magnar preserved that black-hearted demon’s body behind her back, plotting against Taushin even as they protected him.