by Bryan Davis
Taking another deep breath, Jason waved his sword. Basil set the torch against the branch and held it there. A column of gray smoke shot upward. Leaves crackled. The flames took hold and began to eat away at the lowest slats.
Jason scanned the sky. Still no patrolling dragon in sight, but if the fire got any noisier, this escape attempt would be snuffed out in a hurry.
A snort sounded, then a growl. Jason whipped around just as Julaz launched a ball of flames toward him. He ducked, rolled, and vaulted back to his feet. A sharp sting burned his left forearm, and smoke curled up from a black mark near his elbow.
Grimacing, Jason backpedaled toward the prison. Julaz beat her wings and gave chase. A loud clatter sounded behind him, but he couldn’t look. He had to keep his eyes on the fire-breathing maw and hope for an opening to attack her underbelly.
Something on the ground caught his heel. He stumbled backwards and landed on his bottom. Julaz lunged, her mouth wide and her pointed teeth bared. Light surged from behind Jason, and flames leaped in front of him. A man thrust the burning branch into Julaz’s mouth and shoved it deep into her throat.
Jason stared. Father! How could it be?
As Julaz reared up, backing away and screaming, Jason leaped to his feet and charged. He lunged past his father and drove the sword into Julaz’s vulnerable spot, though not very deeply. He twisted the blade and yanked it back out. She screamed again and batted him with a wing, sending him flying. He landed on his side and slid, his sword between his body and the sandy ground. The blade sliced into his ribs, and the hilt jerked away from his hand. When he finally stopped, pain throttled his body. His vision blurring, he rose to all fours and crawled toward Julaz, groping for the sword.
Ahead, Edison attacked Julaz with a flaming slat. She crunched down on the branch and spat it out, then swung a wing, missing his head by mere inches. The boys threw burning shards at her, but they just bounced off her scales.
Jason struggled to his feet. Leading with his sword, he staggered toward the battle. He ducked under another salvo of flames and rammed the sword into the she-dragon again, deeper this time.
While Julaz toppled backwards, hot liquid gushed over Jason’s feet, acidic and scalding. He leaped away, jumping from foot to foot to cool his stinging ankles. Julaz thudded to the ground in a choking cloud of dust, her belly skyward, her wound oozing steaming liquid.
Jason’s father jerked his sword away and limped to Julaz’s side, where her neck sprawled across the ground. He hacked near the base of her skull again and again. With each strike, Julaz’s body shuddered. Finally, her head fell away. Her body continued to writhe, her tail curling in the sand and her wings jerking.
The two boys drew close to Jason, one on each side. Their mouths agape, they stared at the slain dragon.
With his back still toward Jason, Edison let his shoulders sag. Then, heaving a sigh, he turned and limped back, his feet landing heavily and the sword’s tip dragging. Even in Jason’s blurry vision, his father’s barrel frame and wispy gray hair drew a beautiful portrait — the heroic warrior, Edison Masters.
Ignoring the pain, he dashed ahead and embraced him. “You’re alive! I thought they put you through that grinder.”
His father wrapped strong arms around Jason and pressed his cheek against his hair. “Julaz was angry with the other fellow for allowing me to get to the ladder. She grabbed him and threw him into the mill and ground him up herself.”
He drew back and pushed the sword’s hilt into Jason’s hand, his face becoming grim. “Fortunately for us, his body got lodged too tightly in the grinder, so she was going to work on dislodging it when Mallerin returned.”
“Speaking of Mallerin.” Jason looked up. Apart from a few dark clouds hanging near the southern horizon, the sky remained clear. “We’d better get out of here before she shows up.”
Edison touched Jason’s side. “You’re bleeding pretty badly. It’s soaked through.”
With the touch, pain roared back to Jason’s ribs. Trying to hide a grimace, he lifted his shirt, peeling away the bloody material. A vertical gash in his side crossed every rib.
Basil whispered, “Ouch.” The other boy nodded.
Edison shook his head. “If that hurts as bad as it looks —”
“It does, but we can’t worry about that now. We have to get out of here. There’s a forest nearby where we can find shelter. I left the girl there.” With his lower legs still burning, Jason walked gingerly toward the ladder. Elyssa’s pendant swayed with his unsteady gait, brushing against his chest. As he neared the ladder, an image of her battling from atop Xenith came to mind, her expression warrior-intense as she swung her sword. Had she escaped with Fellina? If so, where was she now? She wouldn’t stand for hiding somewhere, waiting for him to show up. If she was able, she would be back.
He grasped a head-high rung and waited for the others to catch up. “Father, can you go first and help these two? I can push from down here.” As sweat trickled into his wound, he winced. “And I might need help myself.”
“Not a problem.” While Jason steadied the ladder, Edison climbed up and stood on the top rung. He leaped and grabbed the rim with both hands, then swung his legs to the top. Now on knees and one hand, he reached the other hand down. “Basil, you first.”
As Basil climbed, his crippled arm pressed against his stomach, the one-legged boy watched Basil’s progress pensively, his ragtop head motionless and his sweaty torso smeared with dirt and soot.
“What’s your name?” Jason asked.
He kept his stare in place. “Oliver.”
“Pleased to meet you, Oliver. I’m—”
“Jason Masters. I know. Your father told us stories about you.” Oliver turned and looked Jason in the eye.
“Thank you for saving us. You’re as strong and brave as he said you are.”
The heat in Jason’s legs roared up his body and into his cheeks. “You’re pretty brave, yourself. When you started throwing those —”
“Uh-oh.” Oliver pointed at the sky. “Mallerin.”
Jason spun. The huge she-dragon had just crested the ridge between them and the village and now swooped toward them, only seconds away. “Father!” he hissed.
“Any ideas?”
“Just one. Give me your sword.”
Jason gave the sword an underhanded toss. His father snatched it out of the air and rose to his full height. Waving his arms wildly, he shouted. “Mallerin! I chopped your sister’s head off! Come and get me!” He ran along the perimeter of the basin toward a head-shaped boulder about one-hundred paces away, his limp hardly noticeable.
As Mallerin swung toward the boulder, Jason scrambled up the ladder. “Basil, wait at the top. Oliver, can you follow me?”
Oliver threw his walking stick to the side. “Just watch.”
“Great!” Jason scrambled up the rungs. When he reached Basil, he pushed his head between the boy’s legs and climbed to the top rung with him now safely on his shoulders. Basil grabbed the rim with his good arm and braced the elbow of his crippled arm. With help from Jason, he hoisted himself up, then turned and reached down. “Come on, Oliver. You can do it.”
Jason turned and laid his back against the wall. “I’ll help you climb over me.”
Oliver grabbed Jason’s belt and shoulder, using them as ladder rungs. His foot dug into Jason’s waist, stretching his skin and widening the open wound.
Jason bit down hard on his lip. Just hang on. He’ll be up in a second. With a quick glance, he found his father, slashing at the air from behind the boulder while Mallerin flew around, diving and shooting fire, then backing off and attacking again.
Once Basil pulled Oliver up, Jason leaped, grabbed the boys’ outstretched hands, and rode their pull until he reached the top. He pointed at the trees where he had left Solace. “Basil, help Oliver run to the woods. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
The boys took off. Jason dashed around the rim, clutching his side. Mallerin stood on top of the bo
ulder. Her foreclaw wrenching his father’s arm, she lifted him effortlessly and held him in front of her snout as if ready to roast him with a fiery snuff. Edison thrashed and squirmed but to no avail.
“Mallerin!” Jason shouted. “Let him go. I killed your sister!”
She turned and spat a wad of fire in his path, igniting a small blaze in the heather. “Come no closer, human!”
Jason leaped over the fire. No use negotiating with this monster. A quick strike was his only option. He spied his sword next to Mallerin’s tail and lunged for it. A volley of flames flew toward him. He dove into a somersault, grabbed the hilt as he rolled to his feet, and leaped up to the dragon’s tail. He ran along her backbone, sideswiping her protruding spines, and scrambled as far up her neck as he could. Grasping her with one arm, he hacked at her neck with all his might.
Mallerin jumped down from the boulder, threw Edison to the ground, and pinned him with a back claw. She then slung her neck back and forth, slamming Jason against the boulder. His wounded side struck first. A rib cracked. Blood flowed. His sword slipped out of his hand, and his vision darkened.
As she reared back to slam him again, a loud shout echoed all around.
“Mallerin! Stop!”
Jason struck the boulder again. Pain from the broken rib roared through his body. His grip around her neck loosened, and he fell, smacking the boulder once more. He slid to the ground and curled on his side, facing the dragon and the basin. His sword lay between him and the dragon’s claw, not quite within reach.
Mallerin lifted her head. “Who speaks to me?”
Blinking away the fog, Jason found the source. A floating sphere, dazzling white, drifted down from the sky. It stopped and hovered over the basin, its closest point within ten feet of the rim. It radiated heat, soothing warmth that eased his horrible pain. It looked exactly like the star from the Northlands, but how could that be? Exodus was trapped, hopeless, begging to die.
Beyond the sphere, a dragon that looked like Fellina flew toward the forest, while yet another dragon headed in the same direction from a different angle. Maybe Fellina was hurrying to pick up the boys, trying to rescue them before a patrol dragon picked them up. Jason squinted. Fellina had no rider. Where could Elyssa be?
The voice returned, this time softer and more feminine. “Although you have hidden your identity for so long, Mallerin, the Creator knows who you are, and Starlight has told me your secret.”
Mallerin wagged her head. “Away with you, sorceress. You know nothing about me. If you continue this bedevilment, I will crush this man into dust.”
Jason pushed against the ground. He had to get up and fight, forget the pain and save his father. He crawled on hands and knees, grabbing his sword along the way. Only ten paces separated him from the dragon’s pinning claw. Pain spiking in his ribcage, he gritted his teeth to hold back a gasp.
“Look at me, Mallerin,” the voice said. “Pay heed to my call. I will tell you a tale of days gone by, days when you were more than an executioner.”
Clawing the ground as he crawled, Jason blinked at the sphere. As in Exodus, a secondary light shone from within, human shaped this time, but the dazzling radiance and his blurred vision kept the image fuzzy and vague. The human looked like a girl wearing a cloak, but it was all so hazy. Dizziness swirled in his head, worsening with every foot of ground he crossed.
“You were a queen, a member of nobility, the leading female among the Separators. Oh, how far you have fallen! Now you are an executioner, grinding the flesh and bones of what you consider human waste, a job so distasteful to other dragons, even the drones refuse to carry it out.”
Jason’s arms trembled. He pushed his hands and knees forward. His father, facedown under Mallerin’s crushing claw, lay only five feet away, but the swirling sensation made the entire world spin. Mallerin wobbled forward and back, but was she really swaying, or was her imbalance just part of his dizzied view?
“While a queen,” the voice continued, “you referred to humans as chattel, as vile vermin, and you did so in a manner so degrading, you degraded yourself, proving yourself to be a pompous pig. You were so self-important, so condescending, everyone despised you. Although you provided the prophetic black egg, even your mate spurned you by banishing you from his royal court.”
Jason drew within reach of Mallerin’s claw. It lifted and then pressed down again, rocking as she wobbled. Bracing against the ground with his left arm, he raised the sword and aimed at her belly. He had to strike while she leaned back. Otherwise, she might press all her weight on his father. His arm trembled. His target wavered. Did he have enough strength to leap up and thrust the blade? A miss or a shallow plunge would mean death for him and his father.
A shadow appeared near the basin’s rim, a black egg, semitransparent and as tall as a human child. Jason paused, again blinking. Where had it come from?
The sphere’s voice grew louder, more passionate. “You are a mother, usurped by a fallen Starlighter, a human who now cares for your youngling, thinking she is more fit than you.”
A ghostly apparition, slender and feminine, approached the egg and petted the shell. As she solidified, her identity became clear—Zena. The egg cracked, and a black dragon crawled into her arms. Stroking its head, Zena walked away, and the images disappeared.
“The Creator is displeased with your wickedness. Your cruelty is despicable in his sight. Yet he also knows that you have a seed of regret. Your current estate has brought you low, and you know not how to climb out of this pit. The Creator offers you an opportunity to make amends.”
Mallerin rocked back and paused in that position, easing the pressure on her foreclaw. “What must I do?”
Jason flexed his muscles. It was now or never. He lunged toward Mallerin with his sword, but like a flash of lightning, another blade met his and blocked his thrust. The other sword-bearer wrapped both arms around him, and they toppled against Mallerin’s underside. Their combined momentum sent her staggering backwards. She flopped to her side, her neck reeling out like a wild whip. It slapped Jason and his opponent to the ground, pinning them, and Mallerin’s head thumped nearby.
The weight pressed down on Jason’s cracked rib. Pain shot through every limb, every joint, every nerve. His ears rang. Darkness cascaded across his vision. Only a pair of green eyes pierced the veil, sparkling and lovely.
“Jason, are you all right?”
Jason blinked. Elyssa? Was she the other sword-bearer? He forced out a pain-streaked whisper. “No.
I’m —”
A new voice interrupted. “Neither is your pappy. Both of you look like you were at the wrong end of a battering ram.”
“Tibber?” Jason murmured.
“Yep. And I ain’t a fibber about this. We have to get both of you to a hospital, if there is such a place around here.”
“The Northlands.” Jason licked his cracked lips. “Get the stardrop. Use the healing trees.”
“Healing trees?” Tibalt said. “Son, I think someone twisted your necklace a hair too tight.”
“Trouble him not, Tibalt. He is sane.” The sphere’s radiance drew closer. The girl within pushed back her cloak’s hood, revealing red hair and a kind smile. “I know what he means. The stardrop is deadly when a person consumes it, but it heals when administered in the proper way.”
“Koren?” Jason tried to focus on her, but her face stayed blurry. “The wolves. Taushin. What happened?”
“Fear not, brave warrior. All is well. No harm has come to me. I dwell within Exodus, and I will tell you my tale soon, but for now you must rest and allow others to bear your burdens.”
Jason touched the pouch on his belt. This stardrop was for her. Maybe someone could scoop two more out of Exodus and put them with this one. “Koren.” Every word seemed to drill a hole in his ribs. “Stardrop inside. For you. Must take.”
“Peace, Jason. Just listen and rest.” Koren lifted her arms and sang, and with each word, light poured out from the sphere at a poin
t directly in front of her face. As thin as a rope, the radiance streamed toward him and enveloped him in a glowing embrace.
Rest, my brother, rest your mind.
Rest from battles, rest and find
That pain from wounds will fade away
As thoughts surrender, dreams hold sway.
Warmth caressed Jason’s skin—soothing warmth that dried his sweat. As he closed his eyes, the Exodus star, Elyssa’s worried face, and every other sensation fled away.
nine
With the rays of late afternoon filtering through the surrounding forest, Randall stood at the dungeon’s back exit and gripped the gate’s wooden bars. The two dragons locked within had stayed put. Even before spending all night and all day soaking up extane gas, they could have broken out at any time, but they had kept their word. So far.
Patting his pocket, he felt the outline of the crystalline peg Arxad provided as part of the deal to allow the dragons’ escape from the portal chamber. At the time, it seemed like a bargain, but after learning that it provided only a one-way passage from Starlight to Major Four, it didn’t seem quite as valuable. Still, if they ever returned to Starlight, keeping it handy would be a good idea.
He unlocked the gate and swung it open. Time to set the stage for his performance. Everything had to be in place, or else his audience wouldn’t take the bait.
Inside the dungeon, a draft caught the edge of a sheet of parchment, weighed down by a stone, several steps from the gate. He entered and picked it up, reading it as he returned to the outside.
Randall,
I am working on gathering the troops we need for war on Starlight. Because of recent events that would exhaust my dwindling ink if I were to tell them, I was able to assemble a contingent of believers, but I will need more proof, or at least more leverage, if I hope to gather enough soldiers to do battle against the dragons. I will contact you in person soon so we can combine our efforts. Until then, I wish you well.