Diviner (3 page)

She squinted at a series of letters printed on the side—
DANGER. EXPLOSIVE.
Easing the spear away, she leaned it against the wall and studied it from two steps back. She set a hand on her hip and let
explosive
roll around in her thoughts. The miners had created explosive devices from effervescent minerals, allowing the gasses in a sealed compartment to build up until they exploded, but the force was great enough only to dislodge small, stubborn rocks they couldn’t reach with a hammer and chisel. Surely it couldn’t be considered dangerous or be used as an enhancement to a weapon. What could a small pop like that do to an enemy that the point of a spear couldn’t?

Koren grasped the spear again and drew it close to her nose. The odor was unfamiliar, nothing like the minerals the miners used. It smelled like sulfur, charcoal, and … and something else.

She touched the paper. It seemed fully intact. If this device was meant to explode, it obviously failed or perhaps was never used.

After taking a step to the left to move back into the glow, she drew the spear close again and studied the words. The lettering was perfectly straight without a hint of change in width or darkness. Who could have written this message so flawlessly, and why? Someone stored it here for a reason—a relic that might be useful someday. But what was its purpose?

Her thoughts snapped back to Exodus and its hole. This spear could have easily ripped a gash that size. But with an explosive attached, someone meant to do more damage than merely deflate the star. Whoever threw that spear meant to destroy Exodus and the guiding angel within.

The whisperer passed by a wooden slat nailed into the rock. More slats ran up the wall until they disappeared in the darkness. Just like in the Exodus chamber, a tiny light shone far above, another opening to the outside, though this one seemed even farther away.

Koren touched the closest slat. Together, these slats could act as a ladder, another way to leave the castle’s underground, but it would take hours to scale, and the danger would be even greater than climbing the staircase.

She looked at the floor again. More oddities met her gaze, but—except for papers and books—nothing looked familiar. It would be fascinating to sit here and search through everything, deciphering what the objects might be.

As her eyes followed the globule’s path, one item caught her attention, a black rectangular box no bigger than her hand. She picked it up and studied a series of white letters near the edge of one surface. Printed next to a raised circle, they spelled out an unfamiliar word —
DETONATE.

She formed the word silently with her mouth, then, shrugging, she laid the box back where she had found it. More mysteries. More unanswered questions.

The whisperer finally reached the entry tunnel and, breaking away from the wall, headed back to the staircase, taking the halo of light with it. Koren let her shoulders sag. Learning about the other relics here would have to wait, but at least she could take the spear into brighter light and get a better look at it.

After following the whisperer back to the stream, she stopped at the bottom of the stairs and studied the spear again. The off-white paper had charred edges, and a sooty smear underlined the word
DANGER.
Why would a spear have been exposed to fire and then only partially burned?

Koren gazed up the stairs. Taking this to Taushin would be foolhardy. Though he had likely already seen it through her eyes, she couldn’t allow him to use it for evil purposes.

With great care, she laid the spear on the floor near the base of the wall opposite the bottom step. Then she walked into the flow of whispering lights and began climbing the stairs, listening to the disjointed murmurings. It might take an hour to get to the top, but trying to piece together the jumbled sentences would keep her mind occupied.

When she reached the top, she would find the white dragon, as she had promised Brinella she would. Taushin might protest in any number of ways, but she had to learn the truth, and if the white dragon could be found, she would find him.

two

 

J
ason stood in the midst of the forest and listened to the eerie quiet. No birds flitted. The leaves gave no hint of a breeze. His father, Edison Masters, waited close behind, only a heartbeat away, breathing not a word.

His sword drawn, Jason scanned the dark sky through an opening in the canopy. A moon peeked between cloud-banks: Pariah, the smallest of the trio that rose and set together. Until now, lack of light proved to be a benefit. After leaving the abandoned dragon village, he and his father had been able to cross miles of open land without detection, even though two dragons had flown overhead during the journey. Now deep in a thick forest, they had reached a concealed area, but it seemed that the real danger lurked here rather than out in the open.

A breeze passed through the branches and filtered down to their level. Jason took in the sensation, searching the wind for telltale odors and gaps that might indicate a close presence. About twenty paces to his left, something stood between two trees.

Edison leaned close and whispered, “I smell a familiar odor, but I can’t place it.”

Nodding, Jason pointed with his sword at the suspected hiding place. His father’s sense of smell was keen, and something familiar could mean good news. Recognizable odors would likely originate from Major Four, so the lurker might well be human, but whoever it was could be combative. Coming upon two strangers in a dark forest had to be a frightening experience, especially for a runaway slave.

When Jason drew in a breath, hoping to call with a reassuring word, a sharp voice broke in.

“It’s you!” The undergrowth rustled, and a human form burst into the open. As it closed in, Jason lifted his sword, but when the form took on a feminine shape, he lowered it again. She leaped, wrapping her arms around him. “Oh, Jason! You’re alive! Praise the Creator!”

Jason pushed her back gently and sheathed his sword. “Elyssa?”

Dim moonlight illuminated her smiling face. “Of course it’s me! Who else on this planet would hug you like that?”

“Uh …” He glanced at her waist. A sword belt hung loosely at her hips, and the hilt protruded from a scabbard at her side. “You look … different.”

She touched her sword. “You didn’t expect a girl to wander around here without a weapon, did you?” Reaching out, she lifted his necklace chain, pulling a pendant from under his shirt and letting it dangle from her fingers. “You found it!”

“Yeah. It’s been a good reminder. That’s why I’m here, actually. I was searching for you.”

Her smile wavering, she kept her gaze on the pendant. “What happened to Koren?”

“Exchange stories later,” Edison said. “I detect another odor. This one isn’t human.”

Jason pulled away from Elyssa and moved to his father’s side. A new rustling disturbed the silence, maybe fifty paces away. This creature didn’t seem to care to hide its presence.

Elyssa touched Jason’s back and whispered into his ear. “It’s intelligent. It’s searching for something. I sense determination … and malice.”

Drawing his sword, Jason waved for Elyssa to move back. She stayed put, withdrawing her own sword. Now all three stood in the dark with weapons brandished, Edison a step or two in front. The rustling grew closer and closer. Thirty paces. Twenty paces. A snuffling sound blended in, then a growl.

Barely visible in the moonlight, Edison glanced between Elyssa and the source of the noise. He raised a hand and whispered sternly, “Son, stay here with Elyssa. That’s an order.” Then, starting with a quick leap, he hustled toward the creature.

“No!” Jason took a hard step but halted. Father gave an order. How could he disobey?

A draconic scream erupted from the darkness. Elyssa charged. Jason leaped to catch her but missed. He dashed after her, following the sounds—crunching footfalls, splintering wood, and horrific squeals and growls. He stopped at a gap in the forest. Elyssa stood there, her sword drooping at her side as she looked up at the sky. Pariah shone through, giving light to the battlefield. With broken branches strewn about, a second sword lay at her feet.

Her body quaking, Elyssa’s quiet voice shook. “A dragon took him.”

“Took him?” Jason picked up the sword, Father’s sword, wet with blood. His head swimming, he scanned the sky. A dragon flew across the purple canopy carrying a limp body in its claws. Pain stabbed Jason’s gut. Bile rose in his throat, bitter and burning, and a bare whisper leaked out. “Father!”

“Oh, Jason!” Elyssa dropped her sword and embraced him. “I’m so sorry! It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t come, your father wouldn’t have tried to face the dragon alone.”

Jason blinked. His arms felt like stiff logs. He couldn’t lift them even to return the embrace. A tragedy. As his mind threatened to become numb as well, one of his father’s teachings broke though.
Allow for grief, but a warrior must not give in to despair.

He pushed her back. “We have to follow that dragon.”

“We can’t possibly keep up with a flying —”

“We have to try.” Jason shoved his sword back into its sheath. “Let’s go. Stay as close behind me as you can.”

He jogged through the forest, ducking under branches that seemed to reach out just as he approached. Twice he stumbled over tree roots before regaining his balance. Elyssa kept pace without a mishap, taking advantage of his trail blazing or maybe her Diviner’s gift. He glanced at the sky as often as he dared. The dragon shrank in the distance and finally dropped out of view.

“He’s going to the dragon village,” Elyssa said from behind.

Jason kept his focus straight ahead, speaking in short bursts as he marched on. “I see that … I was there a few hours ago … The place was deserted.”

After several minutes, he stepped into the open. To his right, the ground sloped upward into a range of mountains. To his left, a plateau stretched out for miles, leading north to the dragon village. A few lights glimmered in that direction, probably lanterns. Maybe dragons and humans had returned to the streets.

Elyssa joined him, taking in deep breaths. “It’s a long way.”

“I know. Father and I just crossed this area.” Jason took in a deep breath of his own and let it out slowly. Every muscle ached. It seemed that energy drained from his body and spilled into the ground, as if stopping had caused his determination to spring a leak. Everything he carried seemed to double its weight — his sword, his scabbard, even the pouch in which he transported the stardrop, still attached to his belt.

He touched the dangling pouch with a finger. He and his father had come to find Elyssa. Job number one was complete. Now he had to get the stardrop to Koren. For some reason, she needed to swallow it. At least that’s what Petra had indicated before he and his father had left Alaph’s castle. Yet now with his father in danger, how could he go on with job number two?

“You must be exhausted,” Elyssa said. “I know I am.”

“I have to go!” Jason bit his lip. That came out far too harshly. Taking another breath, he reached his hand toward hers and softened his tone. “If you can come, that would be great. Your gifts would be helpful. If not, I think you’ll be safe hiding in the forest. But no matter what you decide, I have to go. You understand that, right?”

“Of course I do.” She took his hand. “And I am coming with you. I don’t want to let you out of my sight again. It was hard enough finding you this time.”

He looked into her eyes, more visible now that they stood in the open. They were tired but determined. With her sword again in hand, her body straight, and her legs firmly set, she was the portrait of the ready warrior.

Giving her a smile, he nodded. “I was hoping you’d come,” was all he could manage. He turned and marched toward the distant lanterns. With so little light to guide their way, and with his leg muscles threatening to lock in spasms, he had to keep a slower pace than his passion demanded. Father was out there, probably badly wounded, maybe dead. Getting to him as quickly as possible was all that mattered.

Standing in the cave’s kitchen area, Constance turned the mill’s arm-length handle one last time. There. The final bone had gone through. That was one hard job finished, one of many chores Koren used to do. When she and the other two girls were around to help, getting to bed at a reasonable hour was commonplace, but not tonight. The list of things to do would last well past midnight.

Bracing one hand on the kitchen’s central oak table, she mopped her brow with the fringe of her apron. It took a lot of strength to grind sheep bones, but Arxad always insisted on wasting nothing. Of course, he and his family crunched the larger bones with their powerful jaws, but the lower legs often splintered, and thus were saved for grinding. According to Arxad, the powder made an excellent flavoring for his morning brew of cactus tea.

She pulled the catch bin from the bottom of the grinder, using both hands to slide the wooden bowl to the edge of the table. With light from a wall lantern flickering behind her, her head cast a shadow over the bowl, making it difficult to tell how finely the mill had ground the bones. She could always use a sifter to —

“Hello? Madam Orley? Are you in there?”

Constance wiped her hands on her apron. “Yeager? Is that you?”

“Yes, Madam. May I come in?”

“You may. Do you have your … uh … valuables with you?”

“Of course.” Yeager, a tall man with a muscular build, dark curly hair, and at least a three-day’s beard, ambled into the lantern light, holding a chain that led into the darkness behind him. “And they are valuable, indeed. I heard you need help, so I brought what little I have available.”

He stopped and rattled the chain. A boy wearing a leather collar limped into the light, using a walking stick to compensate for a missing lower leg. Another boy followed, his collar linked to the other boy’s by the chain. He held a withered forearm close to his waist. Finally, a girl joined them. The chain ended at a hook attached to her collar.

Constance stepped out of the lantern’s way. The flickering light danced on the boys’ clean bare chests and illuminated their glassy eyes. Standing no taller than her own five feet and two inches and wearing only short trousers, they appeared to be about twelve years old. The girl was slightly taller, but her sunken cheeks and eyes spoke of severe malnutrition. If not for her clean tunic and skirt, anyone would have thought her to be a cattle child.

“Where did you get them?” Constance asked. “The cattle camp is empty.”

“I took these and a few others from the camp before the escape. I cleaned them up a bit. Gave the girl some clothes.”

“But we’re in lockdown. Why are you trading at all?”

“I asked the Separators for an exception. I can’t afford to feed my inventory, so they said I could sell them to whoever would take them. Actually, it was easy to place them. When there is short supply, there are willing buyers.”

Constance pointed at the closer boy. “But you had no buyers for these.”

His eyes shifted, blinking, then a confident smile emerged. “I saved them for you. I heard that Koren, Natalla, and Petra are all missing, so I guessed you would need at least one new servant.”

“This is true. I suppose everyone knows about that by now.” She studied the eyes of each child in turn, all glazed and faraway. Yeager had obviously drugged them. “What are their names?”

Yeager stared at her for a moment, then coughed. “Well, as you can imagine, I don’t ask them their names. A man in my line of work can’t afford to get emotionally attached.”

“Yes, I can imagine.” Constance glared at him. If greed could walk and talk, his name would be Yeager. “The reality is that you brought these three because you couldn’t place them anywhere else.”

“Nonsense. As I said, I saved them for—”

“Do you think me a fool?” She touched the first boy’s shoulder. “They’re handicapped. They need to work with the accountant or with the nursery maid.”

“Those positions have been filled.” He nodded toward the kitchen table. “I understand your dilemma. With household labors you need boys with strong arms and legs.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to care for these boys, it’s just that there is hard work —”

“Say no more. I said I understand.” Yeager touched the girl’s head. “This one is not handicapped. She is malnourished, to be sure, but that is easily remedied. Everyone knows Arxad feeds his servants well.”

Constance took off her apron and folded it, keeping her eyes on her hands. “I would gladly take her, but Arxad is not here. Nor is Fellina. I cannot get authorization.”

“When will they return?”

“Neither gave me word.” She laid the apron on the table and smoothed it with both hands. “Arxad has been known to leave for days or even weeks. When he is gone, Fellina sometimes leaves for quite a while as well. They trust me to keep their home in order.”

“Then surely they would trust you to acquire new help.”

“You know as well as I do that only a dragon can approve a placement. Even Arxad would get angry over such a breach in protocol.”

Yeager stroked his chin. “The Separators said I have to place them today. Since the girl is obviously too malnourished, the breeders didn’t want her. You know what will happen to them tomorrow.”

Constance glanced at the grinding mill on the table, then lowered her head, unable to look the girl in the eyes.

“Yes, I know.”

“Then take her,” Yeager said. “Hide her. Feed her. Have some compassion.”

“Compassion? How dare you speak to me about compassion!” Constance aimed a shaking finger at him, her voice rising. “You’re the one who drags these poor children from place to place, drugging them out of their minds and auctioning them off like property.”

“They
are
property. Every cattle child belongs to Magnar, or rather Taushin, I suppose. I get to keep the bare scrapings of the purchase price, and the rest goes to whoever sits his scaly backside on the Basilica throne.” He pointed a finger of his own. “You are property, too. Arxad’s property. Even though you wear no chain or collar, you are every bit as shackled as these children are. You just refuse to admit it. You were born a slave, and you will die a slave.”