by Bryan Davis
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?”
nineteen
Again 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.�
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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.”
“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. I
t 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.