Warrior (39 page)

“Agreed.” Edison grabbed the rope and gave it a snapping jerk. A wave of slack shot up the line, freeing it from its anchor. “So which will it be, son? The village to find Koren or the wilderness to find Frederick and Elyssa?”

His father’s weathered hands reeled in the rope as he kept his eyes on his work. Although Jason had already explained images Cassabrie had revealed about Koren’s and Elyssa’s respective troubles, his father hadn’t uttered a word about it. He rarely spoke of anything until the need arose.

“The village is closer,” Jason said. “I suppose it makes sense to help Koren first.”

His father’s brow lifted, though his gaze stayed locked on his hands. “The enchantress calls to you, does she? More fervently than the cry of a lifetime friend?”

“Enchantress?” Jason shook his head. “That’s not it. I’m thinking logistics. Koren’s just closer.”

Edison hoisted the coil of rope onto his shoulder. “I’m just making sure. My journeys to this point have taught me not to trust even the most innocent-looking eyes.”

“Well, I’m not enchanted, if that’s what you mean.”

“Is that so?” Edison looked Jason in the eye. “No one who is enchanted ever realizes it.”

Jason studied his father’s countenance, the face he wore every time he hoped to teach something serious without spelling it out — steely eyes peering from under his brow like a pair of warning lights. It would be better to acknowledge the counsel than to protest again. “I understand,” Jason said. “I’ll be careful.”

Stepping back, Edison nodded at Jason’s belt. “Better check the stardrop.”

Jason reached into the pouch and withdrew a pliable ball, a piece of Tamminy’s stomach sewn to form a sac. About the size of a small apple, it felt like the skin inside his mouth, moist and warm. The stardrop provided its own heat, but how long would the sac stay moist and keep the stardrop intact? He placed it gently back in the pouch. “I think it’s fine.”

“Good.” Edison looked up. “Is that a dragon?”

Jason followed his line of sight. A small dragon flew from the direction of the village, heading north. A human rode on its back, red hair and a blue cloak flowing in the wind. Although it seemed to be too small to carry her, the dragon flew straight and true as it crossed over the barrier wall to the west. No guardian dragons approached to ask why he carried a human northward. Maybe they had new orders to allow any dragon to pass.

“Koren?” Edison asked.

Jason nodded but said nothing. He couldn’t tear away from the sight—the radiant hair shining in Solarus’s waning rays, the blue cape blending with the surrounding sky, and the black dress and boots, nearly invisible against the dragon’s equally black scales. Strange, though. She was barefoot earlier and wore a white dress. Where could she be going? The Northlands? And who was that dragon? Taushin?

“Still not enchanted, son?”

Jason spun toward him, blinking. His quick turn made Elyssa’s pendant slide on his chest. He withdrew it and laid it on his palm, showing the side with the bird enclosed in a pair of hands. “No … no, not really. Just thinking. I guess we can’t follow Koren.”

“Well, I’m thinking that since the wilderness is so far away, we need to get going. Darkness approaches and we have a long way to travel.” Edison picked up his sword and flexed his fingers around the hilt. “I must say I prefer this course. If your assumptions are correct, your brothers might well be in the wilderness.”

The sparkle in his father’s eyes, the rippling muscles in his neck, and the sturdiness of his stance were beautiful to behold. Although still gray-haired and somewhat wrinkled, the warrior of days gone by had returned.

Jason pulled up his cloak’s hood and glanced at the pendant again before sliding it back in place. “I prefer this course, too.”

Edison pointed his sword straight ahead. “Shall we find your brothers and lead the Lost Ones home?”

Jason withdrew his own sword. “With pleasure, Father. With pleasure.”

As darkness enveloped the campsite, Wallace tightened a knot in a vine holding a lean-to together. “I think it’ll hold.”

“Good.” Elyssa set another lean-to against a tree and pushed it under a branch, wedging it in place. After giving the shelter a good shake to test its sturdiness, she brushed her hands together. “Now we can finish mine.”

A hefty gust rushed down through the branches, bringing with it a smattering of rain. Wallace held out a hand. “You were right.”

Smiling, Elyssa rubbed her fingers together. “My skin never lies.”

“Everyone to the shelters,” Wallace called, clapping his hands. “Smallest at the center. Biggest on the outside for protection.”

Elyssa and Wallace parceled the children out to the lean-tos, two to five children under each, depending on the sizes of the bodies trying to squeeze in. After everyone found a place, Elyssa propped her unfinished shelter against a tree, and Wallace helped her wedge it firmly.

The rain strengthened into a downpour. Elyssa ducked underneath her lean-to and pulled Wallace down with her. They sat close, just out of the straight-line deluge. Still, gaps in the unfinished covering allowed steady drips to leak through here and there.

Wallace shook water from his hair. “It’s like Angler’s Falls out there, only a lot bigger.”

Shielding her face from the flying droplets, Elyssa laughed. “What are you? A puppy?”

“I can be a puppy.” He let his tongue hang out, panting. “How’s that?”

She gave him a gentle slap across the elbow. “Stop it, silly boy.”

He pulled his tongue back in. “If you say so. I’m supposed to be with Phanuel.”

“Wait!” Elyssa grabbed his arm. “His fever’s gone. He’ll be fine for a while. Just stay until the rain stops.”

As he stared at her, Elyssa took in his youthful features. Since he had worked so hard and fought so bravely, she had almost forgotten about his real age. It made sense for him to be a silly boy now and then. It might do her some good to let herself be a silly girl, but it just didn’t seem right, not now, not with so many dangers lurking.

She held out her hand under a leak and caught a few drops. “It looks like we’ll get pretty wet.”

“That’s fine with me.” A wide grin stretched across his face. “I’ve seen rainclouds in the mountains, but this is the first time I’ve been under them.”

“So
that’s
why you got so excited. Will the children be scared?”

“Don’t worry about them.” Wallace pointed at the shelters dotting their campsite. Arms protruded, palms up, and a few heads emerged. Blinking and giggling, some of the younger children came out and danced in the midst of the watery cascade.

“That looks like fun,” Elyssa said.

“And I’m not going to miss it.” Wallace slid out and stood in the pouring rain. He grasped a little girl’s hands, and the two swayed, splashing in the puddles and laughing merrily. “Come out and join us!”

She shifted toward the edge, then stopped. Her heart raced. Every part of her body longed to rush out and dance. It was so beautiful! These children had suffered for so long—lacking nourishment, enduring heavy burdens, hoping for the kiss of love but tasting only lashes. Now they celebrated freedom. With full bellies and liberated legs, they danced in the joy of heaven’s blessings. Like birds set free, they spread their wings and tasted the fresh air of a newly cleansed world.

Birds?
Elyssa pulled back and set a hand against her chest. Her pendant was gone, of course. She had left it at the mesa entrance, hoping to signal Jason that some of the slaves had been set free. Some—not all. Yes, these cattle children were now free, but hundreds remained in places they didn’t want to be, bearing burdens they didn’t want to lift, taking partners with whom they cared not to …

Sighing, she settled back against the trunk. Finishing that thought was far too painful. No, she couldn’t dance. Not yet. Not until she led the very last slave through the portal to Major Four. Only then could her heart join in the celebration.

Again she felt the spot where her pendant always used to rest. Had Jason found it? If so, did its presence make him guess that she would never leave this world without him? She imagined him marching across the same terrain they had recently traversed, trudging through forests and crossing streams, her pendant dangling at his chest as he hurried to find her. If he knew she was still on this planet, he would never give up. They had been friends far too long for him to do otherwise. Love would guide his path.

She closed her eyes and listened to the lovely sounds—rain tapping on the shelter, wind whistling through the leaves, embers sizzling in the drenching curtain of water, and laughter ebbing as the dance of freedom gave way to exhaustion.

Sitting in the dark while waiting for the end of a storm brought back a memory—another evening, a different young man, a distant planet. She and Jason had rested under the shelter of an uprooted tree, watching for pursuers who threatened their lives. Although only days separated her from that night, it seemed long ago. What was Jason really doing now? Was he even alive? Maybe he was a prisoner with Koren.

She imagined the two of them sitting in a dark room, similar to the dungeon cell she had occupied for weeks. The picture raised conflicting feelings, both sorrow and comfort. Although Jason sat in prison, at least he had a friend, someone to talk to while he waited for release or escape. At least loneliness wouldn’t vanquish his will to survive.

A twinge of envy pricked her emotions, but she brushed it away. His comfort was more important than her own. Having Koren with him was a blessing. Still, sadness leaked in as her thoughts drifted to her own dungeon imprisonment, where she sat in chains hour after hour, day after day, without any friends, until she finally amused herself by inventing one.
Phantom,
she had named her. The wisp of a girl appeared in the midst of Elyssa’s loneliest night, two weeks after she had arrived. Elyssa guessed her Diviner’s gift had conjured Phantom as a way of coping with worries about her parents and the possibility of execution should Orion find her.

With her mind again in the present, Elyssa settled back against the tree trunk. As the thrumming sounds continued, calling her to slumber, she closed her eyes. Her mind sketched the dungeon cell and her own form sitting in one corner. Soon she drifted into the scene and took her place within the iron fetters.

Alone in her own filth, she clasped her hands together and looked up at the darkness. As tears streamed, she wept through her words. “Creator, I don’t know why … why you’re letting me rot here. All I did was … snoop through Prescott’s files. I did it to find the Lost Ones, not to steal anything. And Orion thinks I’m a witch who conjures up whatever she pleases. He thinks I’m a menace to be burned. But I’m no witch. I’m just Elyssa. I sense things no one else can. That’s not conjuring. I’m just reading the details of your glorious world. I understand a language others cannot.”

She wiped her nose on her sleeve, smearing something malodorous above her lip. Grimacing, she prayed on. “I don’t think I can stand it here much longer. I need help. Could you send Jason to find me? Adrian? Anyone? Even if I could just have someone to talk to now and then, someone who could let me know that you haven’t left me to suffer alone, I would—”

“You would what?” A ghostlike image approached, no more than a light-filled outline.

Blinking at the feminine form, Elyssa scooted back an inch. “Who are you?”

“A friend,” the young woman said.

“Did I … conjure you?”

She laughed gently. “You might say that. You called me here, to be sure.”

“I knew my Diviner’s gifts were getting stronger, but this is really a surprise.”

A barely visible smile turned her lips. “Being able to create images that look real isn’t as strange as you might think.”

Elyssa waved a hand, rattling her chains. “How would you know? You’re just a figment of my imagination.”

“If you say so.” For a moment, the girl disappeared. Then the skirt of her gown twirled with light, making her visible again. “I cannot stay long, but I am glad to keep you company for a while.”

“Okay …” Elyssa drew out the word. It seemed so comical that this imagined friend appeared to have a mind of her own. “What shall I call you?”

“Well, my name—”

“I know,” Elyssa said, raising a finger. “Your name can be Phantom. That fits you perfectly.”

“If that pleases you.” Phantom disappeared again, leaving them both in darkness, though a few sparks trickled from where her mouth had been. “You are lonely. Would you like to hear a story?”

“Sure. Why not?” Elyssa rested her head against the dungeon wall. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Phantom appeared again, her arms of light spreading out as she twirled a glowing cape. She swayed back and forth as if guided by the cadence of her words. “A long time ago in a distant world, a star hovered in the heavens. Not a normal star, mind you, a dwarf so small that it could easily fit in Governor Prescott’s palace. And, unlike the fiery giants that paint the night sky, this star—Exodus, by name—brought far less heat, not enough to scald the residents of the land, but enough to cause problems for some.