Diviner (15 page)

Arxad’s ears twitched. “Well, there is a problem. It has been so long since I passed through that portal myself, I am not certain I can find it again from this side. Forest growth has altered the landscape, so it is no longer familiar to me. In recent times, however, I sent an emissary who has informed me about the portal’s location relative to landmarks you probably know.”

“For example?”

“My emissary mentioned a gas pipeline’s termination point in the forest. The portal is perhaps a ten-minute walk from there.”

“Okay,” Randall said. “I think I know where that is. We can get there in less than an hour. But what about the conditions where it comes out in your world?”

“Have the soldiers prepare for very cold weather, including ice and snow, then for a march of perhaps two days with a change to temperate conditions as their journey proceeds.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem. When should I tell Orion to have the men ready?”

“As soon as possible. Already the march from the Northlands might take more time than we have.” Arxad turned toward the dungeon but, curling his neck, kept his focus on Randall. “Come for us when you are ready to depart.”

“I will.”

Arxad followed Magnar’s path and faded into the dungeon’s recesses.

As Randall closed the gate, a woman strode down the path, shadowed from the moonlight until she stopped within a few steps of Randall. “I heard you talking about having the men ready,” she said. “Maybe you should ask a woman what to do.”

Randall staggered back a step and studied the woman. With a hand touching the hilt of a sword, and toned arms pressing against her black sleeves, she resembled Marcelle, but her pasty complexion gave her a sickly appearance. Still, her auburn hair was tied back in typical Marcelle battle-ready fashion.

“Marcelle?” Randall leaned closer. “Are you all right?”

She waved a hand. “I’m fine. Just pay attention. I have been listening to your plans. This isn’t the time to play games with Orion. This is life and death. Strike hard, and strike now.”

Randall laughed under his breath. “I assume you have an idea to go along with that bravado.”

“I do. Didn’t you get my note?”

Randall touched his pocket. “Oh! So
you’re
the M!”

“Of course.” Marcelle set a hand on her hip. “Do you think any male soldier would have handwriting like that?”

“Well, I wasn’t sure. It’s possible that it was dictated to a female who just ran out of ink.”

Randall winced. That sounded foolish. Marcelle’s overpowering presence was making him feel like a little boy.

She rolled her eyes. “No, Randall. I just wanted to make sure no one else knows I’m here in Mesolantrum. I thought you had seen my handwriting enough times to know who wrote it.”

“Okay, okay. I get the point.” Randall tried to shake off Marcelle’s verbal jabs. Her tongue was as sharp as ever. “You said you want more troops. What’s your plan?”

“It’s simple. We abandon the reconnaissance contingent idea, escort Orion directly to Starlight, and force him to order his armies to join us immediately.”

“Kidnap him? Don’t you know how many guards he has? Even his bodyguard has a bodyguard, and he has archers with him wherever he goes.”

“Didn’t you pay attention? He sent his archers and bodyguard away.”

“Right. I saw that.”

Marcelle let out a huff, but a wrinkle in her lips gave away a hint of mirth. “Follow me, my friend.” She marched down the path into the forest shadows, a slight swagger in her gait.

Randall followed close behind. Soon she halted at a tree where a man stood bound to the trunk by vines, his cheeks puffed out as if something had been stuffed into his mouth. As he wriggled behind the vines, he grunted, red-faced, apparently trying to speak.

“He’s enjoying a meal of socks.” Grinning, Marcelle pointed at Orion’s bare feet. “It’s all I could find.”

Randall sucked in a breath. “You kidnapped the governor?”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures.” She winked. “Besides, have you ever known me to do things diplomatically?”

“Okay,” Randall said, stretching out the word. “What’s the next step? Authorization letters for our army? A call-to-arms appeal to the other governors?”

Marcelle pointed at herself with her thumb. “Leave both to me. We’ll get the signatures now, and I’ll fill in the verbiage. I already have the funds I need to get supplies for the troops. Now all we need to do is get Orion to Starlight right away so there’ll be no chance for him to countermand the letters.”

“If we can find the portal,” Randall said. “We know its approximate location, but we still have to find it.”

Marcelle picked up a long stick. “I know where it is. I’ll draw a map.”

Orion finally managed to spit out the socks. “Don’t listen to her! She’s a witch, I tell you. A witch!”

Like a cracking whip, Marcelle slid out her sword and pressed the point under his chin. “If you breathe another word, you will see your tongue skewered on this blade.”

Orion’s eyes grew wide and wild, but he kept silent.

Randall leaned over and picked up the socks, warm and damp. “Governor Orion, I thought you said your witch-hunting days were over.” He then nodded at Marcelle. “Let him answer, as long as he does so quietly.”

“I …” Orion swallowed, sweat beading on his forehead. “I did give up witch hunting, but look at her. She is practically a ghost. Feel her hands. They are icy. You will see.”

Randall looked at Marcelle’s hands, both locked into fists, one throttling the hilt of her sword. “Marcelle, do you have chills?”

Her jaw tightened. “We don’t have time to do a medical diagnosis. Let’s get on with the plan.”

“Feel them,” Orion said, nodding rapidly. “You cannot deny your own observations. I could tell you more of what I have seen, but you likely would not believe me.”

“That’s enough!” Marcelle grabbed the socks from Randall and began stuffing them back into Orion’s mouth.

Randall looked at his fingers. For a brief moment, just as Marcelle jerked away the socks, a frigid breeze passed across his skin, and it faded as quickly as it had come.

“Marcelle?” Randall reached for her arm. “Something really is wrong with you. Let me feel your hand.”

She shifted a step away, dodging his touch. “I told you I’m fine.”

Randall looked at Marcelle. Avoiding his eyes, she stood with one arm across her chest, clutching the bicep of her sword arm.

“The things I don’t know keep piling up,” he said, “but at least we have a plan that should work. Let’s get moving.”

Magnar took in a deep draw of the pheterone-enriched air. “Take in all you can, my brother. Grow stronger. Our fellow dragons are counting on us to be their deliverance.”

“I will be ready to sacrifice for them.” Arxad scanned the dungeon. Only Magnar’s shining red eyes pierced the darkness. “As if they deserve it.”

“So speaks the humble priest, the dragon who seems to care more about the vermin than his own kind.”

Arxad settled to his belly. Magnar’s rebuke was a familiar one. Replying would only instigate an argument they had repeated a hundred times before. “Did you see the gun?”

“I did, but I detected no odor of gunpowder.”

“Nor did I, but how can we be sure they have not discovered gunpowder on their own?”

“We cannot.” Magnar blinked, temporarily darkening his eyes. “We have no choice but to continue with this plan.”

“If they are too powerful for us to withstand, will you summon other help?”

“I know the idea that consumes your mind.” Magnar’s eyes swayed from side to side. “The Bloodless will stay where they are.”

“Why do you continue to use that label? You know they have blood.”

“Coursing along their scalelike skin, yes. With those red lines on the surface, anyone can see that they are not true dragons. They are Pariah’s offspring, dark devils in a disguise of white. They are too dangerous to be released from their exile. Having one in our midst should be enough to prove that. Continue to call them the Benefile if you wish, but they will always be the Bloodless to me.”

Arxad let out a
humph.
“A danger to you, perhaps, but if a human army threatens to overrun us, the rest of us would be glad of their help.”

“You might get your wish. We still have no idea what will happen when I go through the portal.”

Arxad kept his stare on Magnar’s eyes. Darkness surrounded the red glow, hiding his expression, making it impossible to gauge his mood. With Magnar’s curse still in place, what would his appearing in the Northlands bring about? Would it break the curse? If so, what would become of the other curses? Might the Benefile be released from their hated habitat? If so, what would they do? They might be outraged and ready to strike, and they could kill a large number of the soldiers before they had a chance to travel south. Would Alaph be able to control them? And what would become of the environment in the Northlands? Alaph’s inability to pass the barrier wall wasn’t part of the original curse. Would that limitation also be eliminated?

“I can feel your anxiety from here,” Magnar said. “Settle your mind.”

“I will try.” Arxad laid his head on the ground. It was easy for Magnar to relax. After so many years confined in the Southlands, he wanted to break the curse, no matter what the Benefile might do. If they decided to become violent, the dragons of the South would need all the human soldiers they could muster, and he might have to break out the weapons he had stored in Alaph’s castle. That, of course, would be their last resort.

ten

 

K
oren stood in the midst of Exodus as she flew toward the dragon village. The glow from the Zodiac’s spires and a lantern flame in the Basilica’s belfry guided her way.

Earlier, Tibalt had escorted the hypnotized Mallerin to Fellina’s home cave and secured her with chains in an inner room where no one could hear her screams. She had been compliant, but once Tibalt had finished binding her, her belligerence slowly returned.

During that process, Fellina hurried the two boys to Xenith at the family refuge, then returned to transport Elyssa and the injured warriors northward, an arduous task for any dragon, even the strongest males. Yet, when she flew away with Elyssa on her back and the warriors in her claws, she seemed up to the task, and with Jason’s stardrop pouch secure in Elyssa’s grasp, it seemed that all would be well.

It had been easy for Koren to hypnotize the barrier wall dragons, thereby allowing Fellina and company passage. In keeping with her Starlighter’s purpose, she had also provided the dragons with a dose of wisdom, encouraging them to denounce slavery and cease their efforts to keep humans captive, though the words seemed to bounce off deaf ears.

As light flowed from her cloak and exited the sphere’s membrane, Koren slowed. Now over the Zodiac, she faced south, the Basilica to her left and most of the places of business to her right. The grottoes lay farther to the right, and dots of light flickering in the distance proved that a few dragon residents had already ordered their slaves to set flame to their lanterns for the evening.

With Solarus gliding below the horizon, Exodus became the dominant light, spreading over the spires and casting a dozen spear-like shadows across the village’s main street. The village still lay nearly deserted because of Taushin’s orders, leaving only a few dragons out to patrol for wandering slaves who had ignored the ambiguous warnings. The humans had been sequestered for so long, many likely doubted the danger. Perhaps an amazing new phenomenon would be enough incentive to overcome their remaining fears. Now all she needed was a town crier to announce the news of her arrival.

Below, Tibalt crouched next to one of the Zodiac’s columns. Light from Exodus exposed his hiding place, as well as the bald spot on top of his head. Koren waved. He stood and waved back, then rubbed his hands together as if summoning courage.

Koren slowly inhaled. She had stored these words for so long, they had to come out soon. Brinella had spewed fractured tales in a random fashion, for her wounded state had weakened her ability to assemble the words and control their flow. The poor girl. How long had she suffered? Hundreds of years? So lonely, feeling forsaken, unable to breathe the air of freedom. Yet now she lived with the Creator, her wound healed and her heart renewed.

Closing her eyes, Koren breathed deeply. Yes. Renewed. Abiding within Exodus was truly regenerating. Now she absorbed the Creator’s bounty—wisdom, knowledge, eloquence—and with these gifts came the opportunity to deliver what she learned to those in need. What joy it would be to see their faces when they hear the good news! Still, a queasy sensation swirled in her stomach, along with a dull ache. It wasn’t terrible, just annoying. Obviously she wasn’t accustomed to all the flying around.

“Here I go!” Tibalt bolted from the column and ran along the middle of the street, waving his arms and shouting. “Hurry! Come out and see this! A star has fallen from the heavens! And wait till you see what she looks like!”

As he continued his cries, an adult human poked his head out of the seamstress shop window. Wide doors opened in the financial office, and two drones emerged along with their three human assistants — a young woman with a missing arm and two young men. All five looked up at Exodus, blinking.

Soon dozens of humans and several dragons streamed from their homes and lined the dusty cobblestone road, every head tilted upward. Buzzing whispers made them sound like a swarm of bees, and Tibalt’s never-ending cries added to the chaos. Most of the humans shielded their eyes from the radiance, a few wincing as beads of sweat broke out on their foreheads. The dragons gawked wide-eyed, their necks swaying slightly as if dancing in time to an inner melody.

From the direction of Arxad’s grotto, Madam Orley hurried as fast as her old legs would carry her, and she joined the swelling throng. After at least a hundred humans and fifteen dragons had gathered, a muscular middle-aged man pushed to the front. Holding up a hand to shield his eyes, he shouted, “Who are you, and why are you here?”

As Koren guided Exodus down, Brinella’s warning about keeping the star away from humans came to mind. How close was too close? She never said. Maybe high enough to keep them from touching it would be safe.

When the star’s lowest point hovered about twenty feet above the Zodiac’s portico, she stopped her descent. From this angle, the man’s face was difficult to see, especially with his hand lifted over his squinting scowl, but he looked like Yeager, the slave trader.

As she raised her hood over her head, she took another deep breath. “I am your Starlighter,” she called loudly enough for everyone to hear. “I am the messenger who guides this star, and I have allowed myself to be imprisoned here for your sakes. Although this sphere was called Starlight during the years it watched over this world, it was later renamed Exodus. The last time Exodus visited the citizens of this world, more than five hundred years ago, no human here now was alive, and only the oldest dragons remember those days. They kept secrets. They whispered mysteries. They heard your questions but delivered no answers.

“Now in these days of prophetic convergence, I have come to reveal secrets, to unravel mysteries, to provide the answers you have sought for decades. All these years, you have been told lies, and you had no choice but to believe them. These lies have strengthened your chains and weakened your spirits. Yet that can change. If you will listen, you will learn the truth, and the truth will set you free.”

Koren spread out her cloak and gave it a spin. “This world was once called Iris, for it was a world of color and beauty, unspoiled and brimming with life.”

The cobblestones transformed into grassy turf. Flowers sprang up all around, dressing the newly formed meadow in dazzling multihued array. The Zodiac disappeared, replaced by a one-story wooden structure with a silvery tin roof, similar to a stable the livestock keepers used for sheep and goats, but the tall, wide door gave evidence that a much larger animal passed in and out of this abode.

“Now,” Koren continued, “I will tell you a story about two men. We will meet Hiram first. The second man is called Bodner.”

A ghostly man walked out of the stable carrying a small box in the palm of his hand and a long spear over his shoulder. A dragon with a collar fastened to his neck followed. Moaning with every shuffling step, the dragon shook his head as if trying to sling off the collar.

Hiram turned and jabbed one of the dragon’s front legs. “Stop complaining!”

Several humans in the audience gasped, while the dragons continued to stare with mouths agape.

The servile dragon drew back his head as if to blow fire. Hiram dropped his spear and pressed a button on the box. The dragon began to shudder. From his snout to the end of his tail, he shook harder and harder. Finally, lifting his head, he cried, “Mercy, master! I will comply!”

“Comply? Lowbred, I think you were ready to fry me.” Releasing the button for a moment, Hiram pointed the box at Lowbred. “You deserve a maximum jolt.” Then, gritting his teeth, Hiram punched the button with his thumb and held it down.

The box let out a high-pitched squeal. Lowbred’s long neck thrashed. His wings spread out and stiffened. Finally, he toppled to the side.

Hiram walked closer, still holding down the button. Lowbred writhed for a moment, then, after a shuddering convulsion, he lay motionless.

Like a wave, a chorus of new gasps passed across the onlookers.

Another man appeared next to the first. Wearing dirty trousers and a cap with a bill, he stared at the inert dragon. “Is he dead?” Bodner asked.

“Just paralyzed.” Hiram released the button. “It’s all under control.”

Bodner shook his head slowly, letting out a tsking sound. “He has to die. We can’t allow a dangerous dragon to live.”

“True, but killing him now doesn’t make sense. I don’t want to haul his carcass to the grinding mill. I’ll fly him there. He’ll be flapping his wings toward his own death.”

Bodner laughed. “Special delivery. From dragon to dog food.”

“If the dogs will even eat this one. He’s so tough I’ll have to use the cannon to put him down.”

“So when I hear the boom, I’ll know it’s done.” Bodner picked up the spear and examined the bloodstained point. “I saw the new twins. When are you going to pick them up?”

“Later today. What genders did we get?”

Bodner gave Hiram the spear. “Two males.”

“That’s good. I need heavy lifters. Colors?”

“One’s a sorrel,” Bodner said. “The other’s a palomino.”

Hiram laughed. “Spoken like a true horse thief.”

“Thief? You’re the one who swindled that poor old widow out of those eggs.”

“Swindled? I could have sent her packing. She was three months behind. I did her a favor.”

“Whatever you say, Mr. Compassion.” Bodner took off his cap and used it to fan his face. “It’s a hot one, isn’t it?”

Hiram flicked his head toward the sky. “No wonder. That fool star’s coming this way.”

“Again?” Bodner looked up at Exodus.

“Gentlemen!” Koren shouted. “Pay heed to me!”

“Sometimes I get the impression it really is trying to talk,” Bodner said. “It’s like I hear a mouse squeaking.”

Hiram snorted. “That’s all it is—noise. Nothing more, nothing less. As long as it doesn’t interfere with our control box signals, let it squeal.”

“Too bad your dragon’s out of commission,” Bodner said. “It’s always interesting to hear dragons come up with their fanciful interpretations.”

“If you want to hear a blithering idiot, go and listen to Cornwall. He was preaching in front of the tobacco shop this morning. If you hurry, he might still be there.”

Koren spread out her arms. “Hiram! Bodner! You must hearken to me!”

“Seriously. Listen. That thing is clucking like a laying hen.” Bodner nodded at Lowbred. “See if he’s recovering. I could use a good laugh.”

Hiram shoved Lowbred with his foot. “C’mon. I didn’t hit you that hard. Get up and tell us what Starlight is saying.”

With his head on the ground, Lowbred murmured.

“Ask Cornwall. He will tell you.”

Hiram delivered a savage kick to Lowbred’s chin. “Do what I say, or you’ll get another jolt!”

Heaving a deep sigh, Lowbred struggled to his haunches and gazed at Koren. “What do you wish to tell us, Starlighter?”

Koren checked her hood. It was still in place. “Here is my message. Compassion is the heartbeat of love. True compassion does not expect payment for the removal of a burden. Give freely to widows, to orphans, and to anyone less fortunate than yourselves. Masters of slaves, that includes those who serve you in bonds. As I have told you before, release them. Set them free. But you have not listened. Hear me now. A day will come when you will be enslaved yourselves, enduring lashes on your own backs, lashes delivered by the species you so cruelly brutalize now.”

While Lowbred relayed the message, Hiram and Bodner glanced at each other, smirking. Finally, Hiram let out a belly laugh. “Now
that’s
a fanciful tale!”

“I did not make it up,” Lowbred said. “I merely repeated her words.”

“She? So now the star is a she?”

“I heard Cornwall say the same thing,” Bodner said. “Claims that a blue-hooded redhead lives inside. I think he’s been standing in the heat far too long.”

“Let’s see if we can find out.” Lunging with his entire body, Hiram threw the spear. It sailed true, but when the point struck the membrane, the spear bounced back and fell. Sounding a thud, it embedded in the carpet of grass only a few steps away.

“You cannot harm the star,” Lowbred said. “It is the guiding angel of Iris.”

“Superstitious nonsense.” Hiram yanked the spear from the ground and rubbed the shaft near the tip. “Maybe there is a way to deliver a bit more punch, but I’ll have to use a different kind of metal and sharpen the point.”

Bodner waved a dismissive hand at the star. “Let’s just leave well enough alone.”

“Why? You’re the one who complained about the heat.”

“I know. Everyone does, but —”

“Then it’s time we did something about it. Having the star around makes the dragons arrogant, like they think they know something we don’t. And there’s nothing I hate more than an uppity dragon.” Hiram poked Lowbred with the butt end of the spear. “I think fate has given you an extended life. We’re going to pick up the new dragons. Then I want to pay a visit to a miner I know.” “What for?” Bodner asked.

“He’s an explosives expert who knows how to rig a remote-controlled bomb. I want to end this guiding angel charade once and for all. We’ll get rid of her heat and her sermonizing at the same time.”

A few seconds later, the scene crumbled and blew away like dust.

Koren turned back to her audience. The dragons’ eyes had glazed over, and most of the humans stood entranced. “Soon after, Hiram devised a sharper spear with an explosive much more powerful than your expanding gas capsules. Then one dark night, flying on a dragon to get within range, he plunged the spear into the star. White vapor surged from the wound, striking Hiram in the face. Blinded for a moment, he fumbled with his control box while the star zoomed away. Although he pushed the button with the same ferocity he employed against the dragon, the angel of Starlight had flown too far. Her light twinkled near the northern horizon, no brighter than the other stars that witnessed Hiram’s foul deed.”

Koren lowered her arms. “Dear friends, the guiding light has now been restored, and she is here to offer wisdom. If you will listen and heed my words, you can be set free from the chains that bind you.”