by Bryan Davis
“Brinella, a girl who lived for centuries within the great star.” Dalath stretched out her wings and glided to the ground next to Drexel. “And we also had Zena before Koren was born, but she abandoned that station long ago. When she turned away from the Starlighter’s calling, her red hair and green eyes both darkened to pitch.”
“Correct.” Gamal flew down and joined Dalath. “And when Brinella departed to be with the Creator, a new third Starlighter arose, but her light was quickly snuffed out only moments ago.”
Frederick scooted to his original spot behind a pile of branches. These dragons were within striking distance, too close for comfort.
“How do you know about the Starlighters?” Drexel asked. “You’ve been here for years. Decades.”
“Centuries,” Gamal said. “My responsibility as one of the four Benefile is to monitor the Starlighters. Even from captivity, I watched them come into existence, and I observe their actions. Now that I am free, I will bestow the power of a Starlighter on a new candidate.”
Drexel picked up a sword at his feet and held it loosely. “Someone who will help me take control of my world?”
“No.” Gamal thrust his head toward Drexel, stopping within inches of his face. “You will be a Starlighter.”
“Me?” Trembling, Drexel backed away a step. “How? You named only females, and I have neither red hair nor green eyes. Can a male even be a Starlighter?”
“Most certainly.” Gamal withdrew his head. “A male Starlighter is powerful, indeed. The hair and eye color are merely the characteristics with which a natural Starlighter is born. If I endow you with such power, you will take on these physical traits. And it will likely be to your advantage if your appearance changes.”
“Yes.” Drexel rubbed his mustache. “I could also alter my facial hair.”
Beth flew down from her perch and landed behind Drexel, making a ring of three white dragons around him. “As the third Starlighter,” she said with a purring voice as ice pellets drizzled from her mouth, “you will be empowered to defeat all your enemies, and we will teach you what you need to know.”
“I understand the history concerning a Starlighter’s power on this world.” Drexel glanced from dragon to dragon, his voice jittery. “But how do you know it will be available on my world?”
Beth shuffled closer, snaked her neck around his from behind, and looped back until she stared into his eyes. “We have sent a male Starlighter there in the past.” She hummed her words, as if singing a lullaby. “A traveler such as yourself came here, an escaped slave seeking refuge. We struck a similar bargain, yet Gamal made the mistake of endowing him with power and informing him of the portal’s location and use before he set us free. Traitor that he was, he broke his vow. He climbed these trees into the Northlands castle and went through the portal. Once he emerged in your world, instead of pitying his own kind and trying to help his fellow slaves, he abandoned them and determined to use his power to take control of Darksphere. He replaced a prince’s son and plotted a takeover.”
His arms stiff against his sides, Drexel swallowed. “A prince’s son? Which one?”
“Prince Bernard,” Gamal said, “though I heard the name only in passing. I see many of the Starlighters’ activities, but not all.”
Beth uncoiled her neck and drew back. “And now that Gamal is free, he will be able to see more.”
“Prince Bernard’s son.” Drexel tapped his chin with a finger. “That must be Leo.”
“You are correct,” Gamal said.
Frederick blinked. Leo? Marcelle mentioned him. Maybe she really was a spirit on Major Four after all.
“I know of Leo,” Drexel said, “but we have never met. What has been his progress?”
“He progressed quite well until recent events proved to be his undoing. He made a critical mistake, and he is now unable to fulfill his desires.”
“What can I do to avoid his mistake?”
Beth’s tail caressed Drexel’s cheek. “You have already avoided it. You set us free.”
“You see,” Gamal continued, more ice spewing as he spoke, “when Leo climbed the trees, he became a bodiless spirit, so when he entered your world, he had to take on a false body that was cold and pale and had neither blood nor a heartbeat. Of course, people would notice these unusual characteristics, but he learned that he could chew a substance that provided warmth and infused his skin with a fluid similar to blood. This gave him the color he needed to blend in. I have not the desire to provide the rest of his strategy or give account of his failures, but if he had set us free, we would have led him to the portal on another path. He would have been even more powerful on Darksphere, and he would have avoided destruction. Because of your faithfulness, the better path is the one that awaits you.”
Drexel gave a brief, shallow bow. “Fine. I am grateful. So what do I do now?”
“First,” Beth said, “you must restore the spring so that we can bathe in it for healing. In order to help you, we must be fully healed.”
Drexel glanced at the hole that once served as the spring’s exit. “I’ve been down there already. The opening is too wide to plug, but I can try to collapse the ground so you can access the river. That might take quite a bit of time.”
Dalath bobbed her head. “Since we must wait for the curse to lift, we have time. We cannot leave this circle of trees until then.”
“Wait for the curse to lift?” Drexel pushed the sword’s blade into the ground. “When will that take place? How do you even know that it will take place?”
“Patience, my human ally,” Gamal said. “I am monitoring another Starlighter in your world, and she is coming here very soon. Because of her mode of transport, she will break the curse for us. This will come to pass in mere hours, perhaps two or three.”
“Another Starlighter? But if she comes here, she will be the third Starlighter in this world. What will become of me?”
“Since her body is similar to Leo’s, her powers are weak and fleeting. I will endow you now, and she will lose her power when she arrives. Then, when we are healed, we will take you to the Northlands and send you to your world. There you will no longer need our help, as you will learn in a moment.”
“Excellent.” Drexel spread out an arm. “What do I have to do?”
Frederick tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword. Letting Drexel become a Starlighter could be disastrous. But what should he do? Attack? These dragons didn’t seem able to breathe fire, and their wounded state might give him an advantage. At the very least, he had to dispatch Drexel. The vile murderer would kill again, and he was more vulnerable now than he would ever be in the future, especially after he became a Starlighter. Talking to the dragons probably wouldn’t help, not after he balked at freeing them.
“Just stand where you are,” Gamal said. “Look into my eyes and allow my mind to penetrate yours.”
Frederick leaped up and charged past the pile of branches, his sword raised as he aimed for Drexel’s neck. Beth reared her head back and shot a barrage of ice that slammed Frederick in the face and chest and splattered all around. He flew backwards and landed on his bottom, sliding on the ice. By the time he stopped, all three dragons had encircled him, their heads cocked back as if ready to shoot more ice.
The ice crunching with every movement, Frederick struggled against the frosty coating, but the cold knifed into his muscles, making them weak and heavy.
“This is Frederick,” Beth said. “We have had a conversation in the past. He made some attempts to set us free, but the level of his faith in us matched his feeble efforts. He preferred to keep the healing waters available for himself.”
As Drexel joined the ring, Frederick gestured toward him with his eyes, unable to move any limbs. His lips nearly frozen, he spoke through chattering teeth. “Don’t trust … that evil fiend. … He murders children. … He slit the throat … of a young boy named Zeb.”
Beth glared at Drexel. “Is this so?”
“Of course not!” D
rexel pointed his sword at Frederick. “He is a liar. He would do anything to save himself. His decision to keep the spring flowing should be enough to prove that.”
Frederick looked at Gamal. “You monitor Starlighters. … Ask one to … tell the tale. … You will see.”
“A convenient excuse,” Drexel said. “An appeal to someone who isn’t here.”
Beth extended her neck. Her head hovered close to Frederick’s face. “Did you witness this killing of a child?”
Frederick tried to shake his head, but his neck was too stiff. “I did not.”
“Then why do you make this accusation?”
“He has … killed others. … He kidnapped the child who … unblocked the river. … There are witnesses.”
Drexel laughed. “Such inventions! I told you about Sarah. She went with me voluntarily, and Frederick’s own brother took her with him, safe and sound after she completed her heroic task.”
“Find a Starlighter,” Frederick said, his teeth still chattering. “Have her … tell the tale. … Drexel won’t … want you to see it.”
Beth swung her head toward Gamal. “In order to follow the law, we cannot kill this one until we verify his story or Drexel’s.”
“I agree,” Gamal said. “Since Frederick is the one who attacked, we will freeze him for now and seek a Starlighter.”
The dragons reared back their heads and spewed rivers of ice at Frederick. As all the world turned frosty white, he breathed out a desperate whisper. “Creator, watch over the children.” Then both body and mind went numb.
Walking hand in hand with her father, Professor Dunwoody on her other side, Marcelle scanned the landscape. Their path of stone ended at a grassy field ahead with a forest at the opposite border, perhaps half a mile away. About four hundred men had gathered, a smaller army than they had first counted. Captain Reed had warned the soldiers about a possible disease, and he had encouraged those with young children or no one else to support their families to stay home. Some heeded the warning; most did not.
A crowd of well-wishers had just departed—parents, children, brothers, and sisters—leaving the soldiers to prepare without distraction. As an officer led the men in rousing chants, they beat their swords against their shields and waved their spears and bows, making an enormous racket that reverberated throughout the area.
Marcelle smiled. These were good men, enthusiastic and brave. They would do just fine. Her thoughts drifted to another good man—Gregor. He sacrificed so much. His courage and passion to save her from the pyre, as well as to liberate the slaves on Dracon, would never be forgotten, not if she could help it.
Near the middle of the line of troops, Captain Reed strode out and marched toward them. He would arrive in moments. Marcelle stopped at the end of the path and looked back at the palace, now a few miles away. It looked different—brighter, more vibrant, somehow happier. A good man sat in the seat of power, yet not a ruler, a servant, someone who would seek the best interests of the people.
She squeezed her daddy’s hand. He returned it with a gentle squeeze of his own. Although her fingers were probably freezing, he didn’t seem to mind. He was willing to suffer, and suffering had fashioned him into the man he was now—a widower, a former peasant, a noble who didn’t fit in. Yet, he sympathized with peasants and nobles alike—with the peasants, because he once shared their poverty, rejoiced in their humble delights, and ignorantly mumbled along with their prejudiced grumblings against the noble class; with the nobles, because he mingled with the posh and participated in their luxuries, endured their shallow social gatherings, and gently countered the wagging tongues that poured disdain on those who wore canvas and gunny instead of silk and satin.
They turned to face the troops again just as Captain Reed arrived. “Did you speak to Magnar?” he asked.
Marcelle nodded. “We agreed that while you’re marching the troops to the Northlands portal, I’ll fly with him to the portal that leads to the Southlands mining mesa. If Arxad hasn’t opened it yet, we will wait until he does.”
Reed pointed at himself. “I assume you want me to remind Arxad about that duty.”
Nodding again, she looked in the direction of the Elbon River. The portal lay somewhere out there. Fortunately, Magnar knew exactly where it was. “We’ll wait as long as one day. Magnar would agree to no more. Then we’ll go to the Northlands portal.”
“That’s a good idea. I see no reason to push a dragon beyond his limits.”
Captain Reed straightened his body and gave Marcelle a crisp Mesolantrum salute, a right arm snapped across his chest, ending with a fist thump.
She returned the salute, but her fist struck the dragon scale she had returned to her chest. Biting her lip, she refused to acknowledge the pain. It would ruin the moment. “I’m looking forward to fighting alongside you, Captain.”
“And I, you.” Captain Reed turned an about-face and strode toward his soldiers.
Marcelle watched his masculine gait, so much like Adrian’s— strong, confident, no hint of pretense. When he joined the troops, he shouted a command that sounded more like a guttural grunt than a word. Still, the soldiers understood. With great energy, they turned as a unit and marched into the forest in a two-by-two column.
As soon as the soldiers cleared the field, Magnar flew down and alighted at the spot where Captain Reed had shouted the marching order. With a mighty beat of his wings, he settled on his haunches and waited. It seemed that he desired as little interaction with humans as possible.
Marcelle turned to her father and Professor Dunwoody. The professor extended his hand. “Marcelle,” he said with a formal tone, “it has been a pleasure getting to know you again. Of all my former students—”
She grasped his hand, pulled him close, and kissed him on the cheek, following with a whisper. “Thank you for everything. You are not just my teacher; you are my friend, my mentor, and my hero.”
When she drew back, he shook her hand with both of his, his eyes misting. “Thank you, my dear. I will look forward to shaking your warm hands when you return.”
Marcelle reached around her daddy’s waist and embraced him tightly. With her cheek again on his shoulder and his loving arms wrapping her from side to side, his warmth seeped into her frigid skin, raising memories of a hundred similar hugs from years gone by. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, Daddy.” She pressed even closer. “And we’ll have the biggest celebration Mesolantrum has ever seen.”
He drew back, smiling broadly. “A wedding festival?”
“Definitely. If my visions were true, that is.” She narrowed her eyes. “But who will perform the ceremony? I know you don’t trust the Cathedral priests.”
He touched her nose. “Now never you mind. I am concocting an idea that should be satisfactory to us all.”
“A priest from out of town, I’ll bet. Knowing you, it’s probably one of the older priests nobody around here respects.”
“Yes, yes. You’re just too smart for me.” He glanced over her and nodded toward Magnar. “You’d better get going. We wouldn’t want to keep a dragon waiting. When you return, the seamstress should have your gown ready. Even if your visions weren’t real, at least you’ll have it for the man who is smart enough to ask for your hand.”
“They’re real.” She leaped to tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek, then turned and ran. “I’ll be back with Adrian!” she shouted. “But don’t show him the gown!”
When she arrived in the field, she leaped up Magnar’s side and settled on his back near the base of his neck, again clutching a spine in front. She withdrew the stardrop pouch from her pocket and attached it and her scabbard harness to the spine. When they returned to Dracon, these would fall off her spirit body.
Reaching ahead, she patted his scales. “Is my fire-breathing pony ready to go to war?”
Magnar whipped his neck around and glared at her. “Beware, wench. Do not take my position as your mount as a symbol of servility, and do not confuse your newfound familiarity w
ith me as an invitation to friendly intimacy. I am not your friend.”
“Okay, okay.” Suppressing a smile, she pulled down her collar, exposing Arxad’s scale. “Then be my warrior comrade. We’re in this together.”
“For my brother’s sake …” As a plume of smoke rose from his nostrils, he nodded. “I can do that.”
Magnar beat his wings and leaped into the air, accelerating upward at a fierce angle. With every stroke of his wings, his body bounced. Marcelle hung on tightly. This pony had never bucked so hard before. “What’s your problem?” she yelled.
When he leveled out, he bent his neck and faced her. “If you are unable to fly like a warrior, then I will set you down at the safe place of your choice.”
She pointed at him. “You don’t fool me, Magnar. You probably push your fellow dragons around with your bullying ways, but you should know by now that I’m not as pliable.”
“You are as pliable as granite. Your head is certainly that hard.” As Magnar looked down, she followed his line of sight. The troops came into view, alternately appearing and disappearing under the forest canopy as he sailed over them.
“Why are you following the soldiers?” Marcelle pointed to the left. “Isn’t the mesa portal that way?”
“It is. Since I am unable to fool you, as you say, I will tell you that I have no plans to go there and wait. I will pass through the Northlands portal and fight for my kingdom immediately. I will not leave your brave soldiers to fight without a dragon leader.”
“Arxad is there. He will lead them until you arrive.”
“He is a priest, a peacemaker. They need a war dragon.”
“What about the curse?” Marcelle asked. “Arxad seemed concerned about that.”
“The curse needs to be broken. My species must face reality and endure the hardships that come because of the choices we have made, whether good or bad. Surely a warrior such as yourself can understand that principle.”