by Bryan Davis
As soon as Randall finished, Magnar swallowed a huge mouthful. With blood dripping over his chin, he looked at Arxad, who hadn’t eaten a bite. “You expected this offer,” Magnar said. “Is your counsel unchanged?”
Arxad nodded. “Any leader would have the same concern Governor Orion has. I urge you to take this opportunity to make peace with Darksphere’s rulers and fight our common enemy under these judicious terms. There is no reason to insist on your original plan.”
“True. A scouting cadre of humans will report that we have told the truth. Yet surely Taushin realizes our plan by now. He could delay his ultimate weapon until he is certain all the forces against him have arrived.”
“Hold on a minute,” Randall said. “What ultimate weapon?”
While Magnar continued eating, Arxad kept his focus on Randall and spoke quietly. “As you might expect, we would not request an army unless we anticipated great danger. Taushin hopes to unleash a weapon that will kill every human on Starlight, including invading forces from Darksphere.”
Randall rolled his fingers into a fist, forcing himself to maintain eye contact with Arxad. Catching glimpses of Magnar greedily crunching bones made this news all too believable. “What exactly is this weapon?”
“A hovering body of light we call Exodus. Taushin hopes to use Koren the Starlighter as its pilot to spread a disease that is always fatal to humans.”
“Koren wouldn’t do that,” Randall said, shaking his head. “At least not intentionally. She’s on our side.”
Magnar swallowed again, scowling as a huge lump rode down his throat. “How little you know. Starlighters are unpredictable. Cassabrie and Zena proved that. Koren now wears the dark vestments and is doing Taushin’s bidding. I knew this could happen. That is why I insisted on her execution, but Arxad, in his mercy, prevented me from averting this crisis.”
“Why didn’t you subdue Taushin?” Randall asked.
“He’s blind, right?”
“Arxad hoped to keep Taushin free because he alone knew how to seal a hole in Exodus and make it rise. Implementation of that knowledge would allow the star to fill the atmosphere with pheterone, the gas you call extane. With pheterone abundant, we could release the slaves and send them home. We hoped to learn the secret for resurrecting Exodus, work out a way to implement it without spreading the disease, and then subdue Taushin before he implemented it himself. That is why we are here.”
“But you didn’t have a way to get here until you found the portal peg. This plan could never have worked without it.”
“I did not have a way to get here,” Magnar said. “Because of a curse, I am unable to pass our barrier wall to the north or the mountains to the south. If we had been unable to find the crystal, Arxad would have guided the human army through a portal that emerges in our world in the Northlands.”
Randall drew his head back. “A curse? What kind of curse?”
Arxad waited for Magnar to nod before explaining. “In our region of Starlight, we have constructed a wall on three sides, which the slaves believe to be a way to keep them in. That is true to a point, but the wall, combined with a mountain range on our southern border, creates a barrier that keeps something out, as well. These borders have been the site of many battles, so in order to establish peace, Magnar agreed to a mutual exile for the kings of the opposing sides, and a curse is the sealing enforcement. Our king, Magnar, is unable to cross the barriers, and in exchange, our opponents are unable to enter. Not only that, the curse sent our opponents to a place of captivity we know little about, and their king has been separated from them for as long as the curse is in effect. Because of this agreement, we live at peace.”
“You have opponents that could threaten dragons?” Randall let out a whistle. “What kind of creatures are they? Another dragon species, or something else?”
Magnar thumped his tail on the ground. “Enough! We will talk no more of this. It is irrelevant to the matter before us.”
“Okay, okay!” Randall stared at Magnar. This king he thought so cruel had made a sacrifice for his people. What kind of odd blend of goodness and evil could incite someone to cause so much harm while still being selfless in other ways?
Shaking off the thoughts, Randall nodded. “It’s all coming together, except for one thing. How could a newly hatched dragon know a secret that no one else knew?”
“I wondered that for centuries,” Arxad said. “We have a prophecy that foretold his ability, but we could only guess at how he would learn something no one else knew. Not even the king of the Northlands knew. He told me so himself.”
Randall looked from one dragon to the other. “Do you know now?”
“We have a theory. Zena used another Starlighter’s finger to communicate with Taushin while he was yet in the egg. That Starlighter, Cassabrie, was powerful, and even in death it is clear that her body radiates the mysteries of Starlight. Through a single finger, she might have communicated to Taushin the key to sealing Exodus.”
Randall shuddered. “How do you know her body is powerful in death?”
Arxad and Magnar glanced at each other. With a sparks-filled sigh, Magnar nodded. “We have told him everything else.”
“We also have an ultimate weapon,” Arxad said. “We have preserved Cassabrie’s body. If we could restore her spirit to her body, we would have the more powerful of the two Starlighters. Cassabrie would be a force Taushin could not overcome, even with Koren fully on his side.”
“Even if Taushin unleashed the disease?” Randall asked. “Are Starlighters immune?”
“Koren wasn’t immune, but …” Arxad’s voice trailed away.
“Wasn’t immune?” Randall cocked his head. “How could you know that unless she contracted it? And if she contracted it, then how could it always be fatal?”
“Take care, Arxad,” Magnar growled. “The human’s questions will never end until he learns everything.”
“This will be the last response.” Arxad refocused on Randall. “She did contract the disease, and she died, but that story is one you need not hear. For now, we should—”
“Wait a minute! You can’t spring that on me without explaining it. How could Koren have died? She’s alive …” Randall squinted. “Isn’t she?”
“She is alive, but if I tell you that story …” Arxad looked at Magnar.
“No,” Magnar said. “I draw the line there. We cannot allow the humans to know. Not yet.”
Randall pointed a finger at Magnar. “Listen. You’re asking us to fight your battle, for your kingdom. Don’t tell me —”
“For the lives of your people,” Magnar barked. “And I will share my knowledge at my discretion. If lacking an answer to a question keeps you from a rescue attempt, then by all means stay here with your fellow soldiers, and we dragons will do what we must to save our planet. If the lives of human slaves are lost in the effort, then so be it. I will tell them that the people of Darksphere abandoned them because of their insatiable curiosity about tangential matters.”
Randall grasped his bow and shook it. “Don’t play me for a fool. I’ve watched my father’s political maneuvering all my life, and I recognize a brow-beating dodge when I see one. You’re the ones who kidnapped my people and enslaved them in the first place, so don’t give me that verbal excrement about curiosity. You should be thanking us that Orion didn’t order an immediate invasion to wipe out your species from the face of your planet.”
Magnar spat out a ball of flames that sizzled past Randall. “You fool! If you knew the truth, you would drop down on your knees and beg for forgiveness! You are indebted to us for your life, especially to Arxad, so—”
“Stop!” Arxad spread out his wings, blocking the mouths of both combatants. “This is senseless.”
Magnar used his own wing to knock Arxad’s out of the way. “You and I both know that he is the senseless one. He barks at the howling wind, an ignorant mongrel who knows neither the source nor the direction of the breaths that gave him life.” With a h
uff, he stalked back toward the dungeon gate. “If you can speak sense to him, then do so, but you may not tell him about his origins. You have said too much already.” After squeezing again through the opening, he disappeared inside.
Arxad’s wings sagged, uncovering Randall’s mouth. He curled his neck and lowered his head, bringing his eyes level with Randall’s. The two orbs lacked their earlier spark. “There is much you do not know, and you lack even the knowledge of why you do not know. Do not allow your curiosity to overcome your commitment. Trust me. Learning these secrets will not help you.”
After a long moment, Randall nodded and loosened his grip on his bow. He hadn’t wanted Magnar to win the verbal battle and set the agenda. Humans needed to be in charge, and with dragons in control of the knowledge department, it seemed impossible to gain the upper hand. He didn’t need to know all the secrets, but the fact that Magnar wanted to keep them hidden was troubling. “There is one piece of information I’ll need to know right away—the location of the other portal. If I am to lead Orion’s scout team, I have to tell them how to prepare. A long march? Cold weather?”
Arxad’s ears twitched. “Well, there is a problem. It has been so long since I passed through that portal myself, I am not certain I can find it again from this side. Forest growth has altered the landscape, so it is no longer familiar to me. In recent times, however, I sent an emissary who has informed me about the portal’s location relative to landmarks you probably know.”
“For example?”
“My emissary mentioned a gas pipeline’s termination point in the forest. The portal is perhaps a ten-minute walk from there.”
“Okay,” Randall said. “I think I know where that is. We can get there in less than an hour. But what about the conditions where it comes out in your world?”
“Have the soldiers prepare for very cold weather, including ice and snow, then for a march of perhaps two days with a change to temperate conditions as their journey proceeds.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem. When should I tell Orion to have the men ready?”
“As soon as possible. Already the march from the Northlands might take more time than we have.” Arxad turned toward the dungeon but, curling his neck, kept his focus on Randall. “Come for us when you are ready to depart.”
“I will.”
Arxad followed Magnar’s path and faded into the dungeon’s recesses.
As Randall closed the gate, a woman strode down the path, shadowed from the moonlight until she stopped within a few steps of Randall. “I heard you talking about having the men ready,” she said. “Maybe you should ask a woman what to do.”
Randall staggered back a step and studied the woman. With a hand touching the hilt of a sword, and toned arms pressing against her black sleeves, she resembled Marcelle, but her pasty complexion gave her a sickly appearance. Still, her auburn hair was tied back in typical Marcelle battle-ready fashion.
“Marcelle?” Randall leaned closer. “Are you all right?”
She waved a hand. “I’m fine. Just pay attention. I have been listening to your plans. This isn’t the time to play games with Orion. This is life and death. Strike hard, and strike now.”
Randall laughed under his breath. “I assume you have an idea to go along with that bravado.”
“I do. Didn’t you get my note?”
Randall touched his pocket. “Oh! So you’re the M!”
“Of course.” Marcelle set a hand on her hip. “Do you think any male soldier would have handwriting like that?”
“Well, I wasn’t sure. It’s possible that it was dictated to a female who just ran out of ink.”
Randall winced. That sounded foolish. Marcelle’s overpowering presence was making him feel like a little boy.
She rolled her eyes. “No, Randall. I just wanted to make sure no one else knows I’m here in Mesolantrum. I thought you had seen my handwriting enough times to know who wrote it.”
“Okay, okay. I get the point.” Randall tried to shake off Marcelle’s verbal jabs. Her tongue was as sharp as ever. “You said you want more troops. What’s your plan?”
“It’s simple. We abandon the reconnaissance contingent idea, escort Orion directly to Starlight, and force him to order his armies to join us immediately.”
“Kidnap him? Don’t you know how many guards he has? Even his bodyguard has a bodyguard, and he has archers with him wherever he goes.”
“Didn’t you pay attention? He sent his archers and bodyguard away.”
“Right. I saw that.”
Marcelle let out a huff, but a wrinkle in her lips gave away a hint of mirth. “Follow me, my friend.” She marched down the path into the forest shadows, a slight swagger in her gait.
Randall followed close behind. Soon she halted at a tree where a man stood bound to the trunk by vines, his cheeks puffed out as if something had been stuffed into his mouth. As he wriggled behind the vines, he grunted, red-faced, apparently trying to speak.
“He’s enjoying a meal of socks.” Grinning, Marcelle pointed at Orion’s bare feet. “It’s all I could find.”
Randall sucked in a breath. “You kidnapped the governor?”
“Desperate times call for desperate measures.” She winked. “Besides, have you ever known me to do things diplomatically?”
“Okay,” Randall said, stretching out the word. “What’s the next step? Authorization letters for our army? A call-to-arms appeal to the other governors?”
Marcelle pointed at herself with her thumb. “Leave both to me. We’ll get the signatures now, and I’ll fill in the verbiage. I already have the funds I need to get supplies for the troops. Now all we need to do is get Orion to Starlight right away so there’ll be no chance for him to countermand the letters.”
“If we can find the portal,” Randall said. “We know its approximate location, but we still have to find it.”
Marcelle picked up a long stick. “I know where it is. I’ll draw a map.”
Orion finally managed to spit out the socks. “Don’t listen to her! She’s a witch, I tell you. A witch!”
Like a cracking whip, Marcelle slid out her sword and pressed the point under his chin. “If you breathe another word, you will see your tongue skewered on this blade.”
Orion’s eyes grew wide and wild, but he kept silent.
Randall leaned over and picked up the socks, warm and damp. “Governor Orion, I thought you said your witch-hunting days were over.” He then nodded at Marcelle. “Let him answer, as long as he does so quietly.”
“I …” Orion swallowed, sweat beading on his forehead. “I did give up witch hunting, but look at her. She is practically a ghost. Feel her hands. They are icy. You will see.”
Randall looked at Marcelle’s hands, both locked into fists, one throttling the hilt of her sword. “Marcelle, do you have chills?”
Her jaw tightened. “We don’t have time to do a medical diagnosis. Let’s get on with the plan.”
“Feel them,” Orion said, nodding rapidly. “You cannot deny your own observations. I could tell you more of what I have seen, but you likely would not believe me.”
“That’s enough!” Marcelle grabbed the socks from Randall and began stuffing them back into Orion’s mouth.
Randall looked at his fingers. For a brief moment, just as Marcelle jerked away the socks, a frigid breeze passed across his skin, and it faded as quickly as it had come.
“Marcelle?” Randall reached for her arm. “Something really is wrong with you. Let me feel your hand.”
She shifted a step away, dodging his touch. “I told you I’m fine.”
Randall looked at Marcelle. Avoiding his eyes, she stood with one arm across her chest, clutching the bicep of her sword arm.
“The things I don’t know keep piling up,” he said, “but at least we have a plan that should work. Let’s get moving.”
Magnar took in a deep draw of the pheterone-enriched air. “Take in all you can, my brother. Grow stronger. Our fellow dragons are
counting on us to be their deliverance.”
“I will be ready to sacrifice for them.” Arxad scanned the dungeon. Only Magnar’s shining red eyes pierced the darkness. “As if they deserve it.”
“So speaks the humble priest, the dragon who seems to care more about the vermin than his own kind.”
Arxad settled to his belly. Magnar’s rebuke was a familiar one. Replying would only instigate an argument they had repeated a hundred times before. “Did you see the gun?”
“I did, but I detected no odor of gunpowder.”
“Nor did I, but how can we be sure they have not discovered gunpowder on their own?”
“We cannot.” Magnar blinked, temporarily darkening his eyes. “We have no choice but to continue with this plan.”
“If they are too powerful for us to withstand, will you summon other help?”
“I know the idea that consumes your mind.” Magnar’s eyes swayed from side to side. “The Bloodless will stay where they are.”
“Why do you continue to use that label? You know they have blood.”
“Coursing along their scalelike skin, yes. With those red lines on the surface, anyone can see that they are not true dragons. They are Pariah’s offspring, dark devils in a disguise of white. They are too dangerous to be released from their exile. Having one in our midst should be enough to prove that. Continue to call them the Benefile if you wish, but they will always be the Bloodless to me.”
Arxad let out a humph. “A danger to you, perhaps, but if a human army threatens to overrun us, the rest of us would be glad of their help.”
“You might get your wish. We still have no idea what will happen when I go through the portal.”
Arxad kept his stare on Magnar’s eyes. Darkness surrounded the red glow, hiding his expression, making it impossible to gauge his mood. With Magnar’s curse still in place, what would his appearing in the Northlands bring about? Would it break the curse? If so, what would become of the other curses? Might the Benefile be released from their hated habitat? If so, what would they do? They might be outraged and ready to strike, and they could kill a large number of the soldiers before they had a chance to travel south. Would Alaph be able to control them? And what would become of the environment in the Northlands? Alaph’s inability to pass the barrier wall wasn’t part of the original curse. Would that limitation also be eliminated?