Warrior (38 page)

“A fair question.” He aimed his call at the door. “Zena, you may bring her in.”

The door swung open. Zena walked in, followed by Madam Orley.

“Come, good lady,” Taushin called, “and stand next to Koren.”

Wringing her hands as she looked around the room, Madam ambled on her short, stocky legs, giving Koren a hurried glance. Her nervous smile indicated excitement mixed with terror. She stopped at Koren’s side and dipped into a shallow curtsy toward Taushin. “What may I do for you, Your Majesty?”

“All I ask is for you to bear witness to the truth. What did you see at the cattle camp when Zena sent you there?”

“Empty, sire.” She glanced at Koren again. “Not a child remained.”

“And the food bin?”

“Open and empty. The children likely had quite a feast.”

“Very good. Thank you.” Taushin turned his head toward Koren. “Is the evidence sufficient?”

“Maybe.” Koren lifted her arms as high as she could. “Will you allow me to resurrect this tale so I can see it for myself?”

“By all means.”

“I am a Starlighter …” Her voice felt weak, feeble, and her head pounded once again. Without her cloak, could she do this at all? “I call upon this tale to make itself visible, to reveal the secrets of the past so all can see the truth.” The chains dragged at her arms. This would have to be a short tale. “The cattle children, tortured and tired, forsaken and hungry, emerged from their walled prison and found sustenance.”

The food bin appeared in front of her. A boy bent over the edge, gathering bread from within. His head stayed low in the bin, making it impossible to see his face, but since he wore no shirt, and scratches blemished his skin, he had to be a cattle child. After a moment, however, he withdrew with an armful of loaves and began wrapping them in a shirt. One-eyed and wary, his identity became clear.

“Wallace!” The moment she called out his name, the image vanished. Reaching out for him, she shuffled forward, but the chains again dragged, halting her.

“Do you now have sufficient proof?” Taushin asked.

She stared at the floor where Wallace had stood. Although he looked older than the last time she had seen him, his face showed the same courage and nobility he had always displayed. “I saw no cattle children. Only Wallace.”

Taushin spread out a wing. “Then please continue. Find them. Eliminate your doubts. Ease your mind.”

Koren nodded. Although the pain was horrible, she had to know the truth. “Wallace,” she called, lifting her arms again, “show me what you did with the bread. Surely you collected it for others. Where are the cattle children?”

Another image appeared, this one more transparent than the last. A misty veil fogged the scene, likely because of her weakness. Wallace scraped flint stones together over a pile of wood while Elyssa and at least twenty poorly dressed children rushed around a forest clearing, pulling up ferns and vines and tossing sticks to the side. Elyssa stopped and crouched next to Wallace. Her voice garbled, she said, “Soon we’ll have our own wilderness refuge. It’s really shaping up.”

Koren let her arms fall. They were too heavy to keep in the air. Like a mist fleeing in the wind, the images streamed away.

Taushin extended his neck and drew his head close. “Are your doubts vanquished?”

“I don’t understand,” she said, looking at him. “Why are they in the wilderness? Why can’t they go home to their families?”

“Some are orphans without a home. Others must be protected from dragons who wish to secure free laborers. Not all dragons have submitted to my authority. They see me as small and easily controlled. This is another reason I need your power—to assert my authority and break their addiction to laziness and slave labor.” He took in a breath and spoke with tenderness. “Starlighter, I hope this act of good faith on my part will be sufficient to prove my intent. I have now done all I can. The rest is up to you.”

Madam Orley laid a hand on Koren’s shoulder. Although the touch felt like a bee sting, she tried not to flinch. “He speaks the truth, Koren. Everyone is waiting for you to do what he asks so we can all be set free.” Her kind expression became stern. “Don’t let us down. Don’t be stubborn about this.”

With the pain growing, Koren pulled away. She looked at the old woman. Her eyes displayed worry, fear, hope. Koren’s mind swirled as she stumbled through her words. “You don’t understand … You can’t understand. I can’t do … I mean … I won’t …”

Finally, she turned to Taushin. His blue beams drilled into her eyes, and his thoughts forced their way into hers.
Submit or suffer.

As if summoned by the dragon’s words, a stinging sensation erupted on Koren’s arms, beginning at the manacles and running to her elbows and shoulders before sizzling like fire down her back and into her legs. Pain followed — searing, pounding pain that knifed into her bones and through her skull. Her head throbbed, worse than ever. It seemed that her brain expanded, pushing against her skull as if her head were about to explode.

She dropped to her knees and pressed her hands against the sides of her head. The torture was unbearable — stabbing, drilling, splitting. If it didn’t stop soon, she would …

The thought vanished, replaced by an echo of her earlier words,
I will die before I help you.

Gritting her teeth, Koren pounded a fist against the floor. It wasn’t right. No one should be forced to suffer so much. Why would the Creator allow it? If she was right to resist this so-called
authority,
the Creator should protect her. Shouldn’t he? But he wasn’t. He just let her suffer the most horrific torture this cruel beast could deliver.

“Mercy!” She lifted both hands toward Taushin and sobbed. “Mercy! Please, have mercy!”

The pain eased. The stinging retreated to her wrists and ebbed to a mere tingle. With her arms still raised, Koren stared at one of the manacles. A streak of rust smeared her skin as the iron cuff slid toward her elbow.

Had she been wrong? Could she really refuse him to the point of death? Maybe not. Maybe she was willing to serve Taushin if given the proper persuasion. Maybe she
was
too stubborn to understand, and, like a squirrel in a cage, she needed to learn that her captor meant no harm. And, besides, how long would it be before Taushin found another innocent loved one to hold over her head?

“Rise to your feet, child,” Taushin said. “Perhaps you are now ready to help me resurrect the Northlands star and set your people free. Say you are mine, and I will believe you.”

Koren stood upright, her legs wobbly. A ray of light from the ceiling hole cast a shadow behind her, a dragon-shaped shadow that undulated with her shaking body.

A new wave of nausea boiled. Was that what she had become? A dragon in human garb? No! It wasn’t true! The connection wasn’t complete! Breathing heavily, she stared at Taushin and summoned her strongest voice. “I am not yours!”

“We shall see about that.” He angled his head toward Zena. “Please escort Madam Orley back to her home. Give instructions to all slaves and dragons that no one is to go outside until further notice. When I gain the Starlighter’s cooperation and resurrect the star, there is a potential for danger. When the danger passes, I will let everyone know.”

“As you wish.” Zena grasped Madam Orley’s elbow and guided her to the door. Madam looked back at Koren, her eyes filled with terror, but she said nothing.

When the two exited, Taushin again focused his beams on Koren, slowly shifting them toward one of the manacles. “Now, Starlighter, it is time for a little more gentle persuasion.”

When his beams struck the manacle, the horrible pain ran up her arm again, this time with twice the force. She fell backwards. Jolts of energy shot from head to spine to hands to feet. She writhed, twisted, squirmed. Her jaw locked open. Screams poured out. Her lips strained to form words—halting, panting, breathless cries. “Help … help me! Oh … dear Creator … help me!”

The pain suddenly eased. Tingling numbness radiated through her limbs. Her body felt like a wet shirt, heavy and stuck to the floor. Did the Creator answer her prayer? If so, what did his answer mean? On the other hand, maybe Taushin stopped the torture after hearing her prayer, hoping she would be fooled into thinking the Creator intervened. Either way, continued resistance meant further agony, not only for herself but maybe also for Madam Orley.

As memories of Petra’s dying screams entered Koren’s mind, she let out a long breath. She couldn’t let this monster threaten another innocent soul.

Slowly, ever so slowly, she rose to her knees, her chains rattling again as they dragged. With tears flowing, her lips barely moved as she whispered, “What must I do?”

A
gain wearing the cloak he received at the Northlands castle, Jason tightened his sword belt and let a hefty coil of rope slide off his shoulder. He checked a small leather pouch dangling from his belt. The stardrop’s container was still safely inside.

The belt seemed a bit tighter than before. One of the white dragon’s servants, a young male phantom, had provided a generous meal consisting of a yellowish potato mash and boiled greens, unfamiliar but quite tasty. Since the boy worked only in the palace kitchen and knew nothing about the food’s origin, and since the dragon didn’t join them for the meal, where and how the plants grew in that land of ice remained a mystery.

Later, as they departed, the dragon met them at the vestibule for a final exhortation to free the slaves. He didn’t, however, provide food for the journey, warning them to travel with as few burdens as possible. The Creator would give them what they needed.

Looking up, Jason scanned the evening sky. To the north, Alaph flew away, nearly invisible as he gained height and distance.

“Are you ready, son?”

Jason turned to his father, who strode toward him on two healthy legs, spry and vigorous.

“I’m ready.” Jason set a hand on the barrier wall. Alaph had said that he could no longer travel beyond this point, so leaving them on this side was his only option. This spot, however, allowed them their best opportunity to enter. Here, a one-thousand-foot stretch rose only half as high as the rest of the wall. Much work remained, promising that many more stones would float downriver for use in later construction.

Edison picked up the rope and began fashioning a loop. “We’d better hurry.”

Nodding, Jason searched the top of the wall for a protruding rock. Alaph had also said the wall’s guardians would be distracted, but not for long. It seemed that events in the village had forced some to abandon their posts.

“I see a good anchor hold,” Jason said, pointing up.

Edison twirled the loop and cast it that way. It flew above the rock before draping perfectly around the target.

Smiling, Jason clapped his father on the back. “You haven’t lost your touch.”

“Let’s see if I can still climb.” Edison tugged on the rope. It seemed secure. “I am heavier, so I will go first. If I can make it, you certainly can.”

Edison grasped the rope with both hands, set a foot against the wall, then climbed hand over hand, using his feet to push upward on jutting stones, his sword clanking along the way. When he reached the top, he looked down, visible only from the waist up. “Hurry. I think I see a dragon.”

Using the same method, Jason scrambled up and jumped down to a stony path that separated the north and south parapets. On the southern side, a dragon flew parallel to the wall, too low to be seen from the north. As Jason and his father peered over the southern parapet, the dragon suddenly changed course and headed toward them, elevating with each flap of its wings.

“It spotted us.” Jason grabbed the rope, still attached to the stone on the northern side. Letting it slide through his hands, he leaped to the top of the southern parapet and rappelled down, his cloak billowing. When his feet struck solid ground next to a cart filled with stones, he drew his sword and shouted, “Dragon! I’m down here!”

The dragon shifted again and dropped toward him, fire shooting from his mouth. Jason dove behind the cart. The flames splashed on the stones and flew over his head. The dragon landed and stalked toward Jason, its wings beating madly as it spewed another storm of fire.

“Up here, dragon!” Edison leaped down. Slashing with his sword as he fell, he clipped one of the dragon’s wings and severed a claw.

Screaming, the dragon swung its tail and slapped Edison against the wall, ripping his sword from his hand. Jason leaped out and charged. With a lunge and a thrust, he drove his blade into the dragon’s belly, twisted it sharply, and jumped toward his father who now sat at the base of the wall, dazed.

The dragon staggered and blew a flaming tempest. Jason whipped the cloak around and covered himself and his father. Heat shot through the material but no flames.

Another scream sounded. Jason peeked out from behind the cloak. The dragon lay on its side, its legs stroking and the sword’s hilt protruding from its belly. He leaped to his feet and turned back to the wall.

“Father,” he called breathlessly, “are you all right?”

Wincing, Edison pushed against the ground as he rose. “Never felt better, but I can’t say the same for that dragon. That was much easier than I expected.”

Jason grasped his father’s wrist and pulled him the rest of the way. “We were lucky. He was one of the weaker dragons. I’ve killed one just like him before.”

“Interesting.” Edison nudged the dragon’s tail with his boot. “If the weaker dragons are guarding the wall, the events in the village must be serious, indeed.”

Jason retrieved his sword and wiped it clean on the dry grass before placing it back into its sheath. “The carcass will signal our presence, so we’d better get going.” He pointed toward the southwest. “The village is that way. I wasn’t on the wall very long, so I’m not sure, but I didn’t see any obstacles between here and there. Pretty much a wasteland of rocks and a few miserable-looking trees. While we were on the white dragon’s back, I saw a dense forest about ten miles away, so that might be the wilderness Cassabrie mentioned. Both Frederick and Elyssa could be there.”