Diviner (33 page)

Elyssa pressed her fingers against her lips, trying not to cry. “Then … then we
do
know what freedom is like.”

“Yes, we do.” Jason climbed to his feet and reached out his hand. “And now it’s time to unlock more chains. I hear Randall coming.”

“From the tunnel?” She rode his pull up to her feet.

“No, from the air.” He nodded toward the ceiling. “Dragon wings.”

Xenith flew through the opening, carrying Randall on her back. As he held to Xenith with one hand, a tight grimace twisted his face.

When the young dragon landed, Elyssa ran to them, holding out her cupped hands. “Do you have it?”

“Yes!” Randall jumped down and rolled a stardrop into her palms. “And good riddance!” He blew on his skin. “Jason carried that thing how far?”

Jason smiled. “Don’t worry about it. You did it. That’s all that matters.”

“Follow me,” Elyssa said. “I’ll need your help to get that spine out.” She hurried to Tibalt and knelt at his side. “It’s your turn, my dear friend. Open up for some spicy food.”

As she drew the stardrop close to his mouth, Tibalt looked at it cross-eyed. “Got any water to go with that?”

twenty-one

 

C
assabrie guided Exodus into a slow descent. Below lay a blanket of snow that spread out from the Northlands’ southern border to a range of mountains that stood behind the castle like huge dragons with white beards and hoary heads. Evergreens huddled on a ridge to the left as if gathering to shelter each other from the bitter cold. A hefty breeze shook the branches, breaking accumulated ice and powder from the needle clusters. The crystals rained on the mounds of white underneath, a miniature snowstorm that swirled in sparkling eddies and swept down to the valley.

Far over the trees, dark clouds rolled in and blocked Solarus, dimming the landscape. A few wind-driven snowflakes decorated the sky, not enough to veil her view, but they might be a sign of more snow to come.

After stopping Exodus directly over the ice-covered river, she glanced between the forest to her left and the castle to her right. At the top of the wooded ridge, the portal’s line of crystals lay in sight, making her perch the perfect spot to watch for the coming army. Two men waited there. The heftier of the pair stood facing the portal, while the other paced between him and a canvas tent, plowing a path through knee-deep snow with his long legs. Plumes of vapor rose from their lips before dispersing in the breeze.

Cassabrie studied the pair. Edison set the peg into the hole, walked forward a few steps, and disappeared, only to reappear a moment later, shrugging his shoulders. He picked up the peg and paced with Orion.

Cassabrie nodded. The troops weren’t there yet, but it probably wouldn’t be much longer. If Randall’s account of Marcelle’s passionate entreaties proved to be true, her prompting, combined with Orion’s signature on military marching orders, would surely bring the army without a problem.

She gazed at the portal clearing. The soldiers had to come. They just had to. If Magnar incited fear in the populace as she and Alaph had hoped, the soldiers might delay, choosing to stay in their world to combat the new menace. Still, Magnar yearned to come to the Northlands and break his curse, so maybe he stayed hidden. If so, the soldiers might walk through the invisible door at any moment. Even if Orion’s orders and Marcelle’s pleas failed, the innate passion in fathers and husbands to protect their precious ones from a dragon invasion would set their feet to marching.

She let her gaze wander around the glowing star’s inner membrane. As Alaph had told her, the sensation of being attached to Exodus sent ripples of delight throughout her body. Tales poured into her mind, and during her journey to the Northlands, she had repeated them and sent them out as wiggling streams of light that dispersed in the air. Now it was time to be silent, watch, and listen. The time for telling tales would come again soon enough.

Earlier, one strange phenomenon occurred that Alaph hadn’t mentioned. As soon as she had inflated Exodus, a shining dome appeared, floating head high. Since it looked like a crown, she ducked under it, and it adhered to her head. Immediately the tales began to flow, proving that the dome was, indeed, the guiding angel’s crown.

Outside, one of the eddies danced down the ridge’s slope and paused over the river’s blue-tinted ice. The snowflakes in the vortex thickened, making it look like a laundered sheet twirling in the wind. After a few seconds, the rotation slowed. Wings emerged from the sheet, and a long tail grew as if generated by the spin. Finally, in a flurry of wings, a white dragon shook away the remaining flakes and flew up to Cassabrie’s level. As he glided around her in a slow orbit, his blue eyes trained on her, and the wake his body and wings created made her spin at the same speed, keeping her facing him at all times.

Cassabrie held her breath. What would Alaph say? Her own efforts to resurrect Exodus hadn’t been part of his plan. But how could it have been? Even he probably hadn’t known that the star would collapse.

Emitting ice crystals as he spoke, Alaph continued his orbit. “Have you come to see if I approve of your chosen abode?”

Cassabrie dipped into a curtsy, staggering slightly as the star continued its slow spin. “No, Alaph, but I do hope you will approve of my heart.”

“Your heart is spotless. Your motivation is pure.” Alaph’s ears bent back. “Yet I am concerned about the path you have chosen.”

“Then do you know what I intend to do?”

“It is not difficult to discern.”

The star spun faster. While the snowfall thickened, the castle and the forest zipped past in rapid succession. Now dizzy, Cassabrie spread her feet to stay erect. “Am I making the right decision?”

Alaph continued beating his wings, orbiting Exodus again and again. “What do you think, Starlighter? What would make this choice of yours the right decision?”

“If it works. If it saves the people.”

“I see.” The blue light in his eyes stretched out into a line, like the tail of a meteor in the night sky. “So does a good result always justify the means a person chooses in order to attain that result?”

As the dizzying sensation worsened, Cassabrie lowered herself to her knees. “No, Alaph, but aren’t love and sacrifice always justified?”

“Only if all involved understand the costs and are willing to pay them. Otherwise it is neither love nor sacrifice.”

Cassabrie kept her eyes focused on the blue line. It seemed to be the only constant in the spinning world. “I think everyone knew the costs.”

“Is that so?” Alaph’s eyes flashed like burning sulfur. “In case you are unaware, Petra did not recover from her burns. Did she realize the potential cost before she agreed to help you resurrect your body?”

As a wave of sorrow washed over Cassabrie’s mind, her throat tightened. “Well …” Her voice pitched into a barely audible squeak. “No. I knew I could die, and I was willing to risk it, but I didn’t know Petra would.”

“Yet you knew she
could.”

“I suppose so. I’m not sure.” Cassabrie closed her eyes and laid her hands over her ears. Although her throat loosened, the heat of shame surged into her cheeks. “I’m so dizzy! I can’t think straight. I suppose I knew, but I wasn’t really thinking …” The thought died on her lips. There was no avoiding the awful truth, no excuse for the fact that she hadn’t bothered to learn if Petra understood the risks. Obviously the poor girl was willing to help in every way she could, but she needed to consider the potential cost, every cost. It wasn’t fair to settle for anything less than full disclosure.

In her mind’s eye, the castle and forest slowed, and her dizziness ebbed. Visions of recent events blended in—Petra climbing to get a stardrop, Shrillet setting her ablaze, Petra’s final words as she breathed her last. “I love you.”

Although her brain had stopped spinning, Cassabrie kept her eyes closed. How could she know Petra’s last words? She wasn’t there to hear them. Yet the vision in her mind was as clear as if she had witnessed it herself. A girl without a tongue whispered an impossible farewell, a peaceful good-bye bathed in contentment.

She reopened her eyes. Exodus sat still, hovering only a few feet above the river. Snow fell heavily now, most of it undisturbed by any wind. Alaph sat on the snow-covered ground to her left, the evergreen forest beyond him, veiled by the curtain of falling flakes. With his head high on his outstretched neck, his eyes drew level with hers, and his stare seemed to delve deeper than before.

“Starlighter, your silence is profound. Share your thoughts with me.”

She swallowed before answering. “I … I made a terrible mistake, but it won’t happen again. What I have planned won’t risk any life except my own.”

“Are you certain? Earlier you said you were dizzy and could not think straight.”

“When I closed my eyes, the dizziness went away. Then everything became clear.”

“Interesting. I wonder if those whom you influence feel the same way.”

Cassabrie tried to read his expression, but his brow stayed smooth, and his ears perked high. He gave no sign of anger or disappointment. “What do you mean?”

“When you speak as a Starlighter, your hearers report a sense of dizziness. When do they think clearly? Is it when you are speaking, or is it when you are silent?”

Cassabrie let his words sink in. While it was true that dragons and humans seemed influenced by a Starlighter’s wisdom, the effect rarely lasted. Most reverted to the way they were before, believing the lies she had tried to counter. No matter how hard she had tried, her hearers, for the most part, returned to acting on impulses that drove them as fiercely as did the whips of dragons. Neither she, nor Brinella, nor Koren penetrated past their ears. The influence was temporary. A Starlighter’s words didn’t change their hearts.

“You need not answer, Starlighter. I can read your face well enough to see that you understand.”

Cassabrie clutched the edge of her cloak. It seemed so useless now, nothing more than a silly disguise. “What do I do with this information?”

“Keep it tucked away for future use. Perhaps when you carry out your plan, all will see the light that brings about real change.”

Cassabrie reached into her dress’s pocket and felt the explosive tube and control box. The plan she had in mind didn’t seem to relate to Alaph’s lesson at all. Maybe it would become clear eventually.

A shout sounded from the forest ridge, deadened by the falling snow. Edison and Orion stood together at the crest, waving at her.

“It is time,” Alaph said. “Your desire to become a guiding angel is about to be fulfilled. May the Creator grant you the courage you need to perform all that is in your heart.”

With a beat of his wings, Alaph leaped into a spin and transformed again into a snow-filled vortex. The cyclone skipped across the river and blended in with the storm until everything appeared to be as it was before.

A grinding noise made Cassabrie look down. Cracks had formed in the river’s ice, and water now trickled over and around the floes. Rain mixed in with the snow, sizzling as it pelted the star’s shell.

She lifted Exodus higher and hurried toward the forest. Rain in the Northlands? That had never happened while she had been around. And why would such thick ice break apart so quickly? The star couldn’t be that hot.

Ahead on the ridge, Edison waved his sword, and his shouts grew clearer as she approached. “An army detachment is coming!”

After hurrying through the precipitation, now all snow once again, Cassabrie halted about thirty feet in front of Edison and Orion. “Is the portal open?” she asked.

“It was open a moment ago.” Edison withdrew a crystalline peg from his pocket. “I closed it for now. I didn’t want our good governor to run in there alone.”

“I assume,” Cassabrie said, suppressing a grin, “that you are protecting him from Magnar. That is a wise and noble act.”

“Well, that’s not exactly what I had in mind, but we did hear dragon wings on the other side not long ago. Magnar is close by.” Edison sheathed his sword. “Marcelle showed up at the portal with three scouts, and the scouts returned to their detachment to lead the rest of them here. They could arrive at any moment, and I wanted them to see proof that there are dragons and human slaves here.”

“Ah! You want me to tell a convincing tale so they’ll be motivated to march in these cruel conditions.”

Edison bowed his head. “That was my hope.”

“Then get ready to open the portal,” Cassabrie said, spreading out her arms. “I will set this forest stage with actors and actresses they will not soon forget.”

Jason stood on the village street, Elyssa on one side, Koren on the other. High above, Arxad and Xenith flew north. Arxad planned to escort his daughter past the barrier wall and then let her fly to the Northlands on her own, Cassabrie’s finger in a pouch tied to her neck. He would be back soon to care for his mate, who now lay quietly on the Zodiac’s lower level, fully stitched with the butcher’s string and guarded by Randall.

Deference, with Elyssa’s help, had been able to stitch Koren and Tibalt as well, and now Tibalt sat in the Zodiac with Deference, Randall, and Fellina, telling them stories about dungeon life and giving them hints on how best to raise a rat.

A short time ago, Jason and Randall had buried Petra near a spring she loved, and Koren sang a beautiful song about freedom, finishing with lines none of them would ever forget:

And she who spoke the fewest words
Gave love in deeds, in blood, in flame,
And now she sings Creator’s songs,
Her tongue unleashed to praise his name.

 

Letting out a sigh, Jason turned to Koren. “Have you had enough time to recover? I think we need to hear a tale.”

Koren spread out her cloak and curtsied. “Yes, young man. What tale would you like to hear?”

“Is it too soon to tell us where Taushin went and what he’s up to?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Let’s find out.”

Jason raised a finger. “And how about what’s happening up north? Can you check on my father and the troops?”

“We shall see. Maybe we will also learn where Cassabrie went with Exodus. If not for her being inside the star, I wouldn’t be able to tell any tales at all.” Koren pulled her hood over her head and fanned out her cloak again. Her green eyes glittering, she looked up at the sky. “Starlight, wounded planet, grieving world, I ask to see mysteries of the recent past. The foul beast who fashions himself a king is likely plotting against your people, and those who live in fear of dragon whips will suffer if we delay in stopping him.”

With a spin of her cloak, Koren backed away from Jason and Elyssa, taking dramatic steps as she scanned the street as if searching for a lost coin. “Taushin cannot see, so he must find eyes, eyes he can trust. Zena is dead. Hyborn, too. And his captive Starlighter has flown to freedom.” She stopped and gasped, her eyes wide. “Dragons! He has found them, gathered them, convinced them to follow his kingly rule. Pheterone is plentiful, so they are appeased.”

Taushin appeared next to her, pacing back and forth on the street. In front of him sat at least forty semitransparent dragons, some of them huge guardians. A hefty she-dragon sat in the front row: Mallerin. As Taushin paced, he frequently aimed his eyebeams at the hefty she-dragon. Apparently he had found his surrogate eyesight — his mother’s.