by Bryan Davis
“I do not fear this apparition,” Magnar growled. “You told me yourself that her power here is limited.”
“Perhaps, but she knows this portal better than I do, and because you killed her, she will be less likely to help us if you are here.”
Randall gave Arxad a quizzical look. Killed her?
Magnar grumbled something unintelligible, then added, “Very well. I will circle the area and return when she is gone. Then I will follow you through the portal.” With a beat of his wings, he took off and faded into the darkness.
As soon as the breeze died away, Randall stepped closer to the spinning girl. Her rotations created a breeze of her own that wafted over his body. He shivered. “The Northlands air must really be cold to cut through what I’m wearing.”
“It is not merely the air you feel,” Arxad said. “You will see.”
As the radiant ballerina continued, her toes drilled into the grass, drawing dirt into her vortex. Near the bottom, whiteness transformed into flesh tones. Two limbs and a pair of feet took shape. As the upwelling soil continued to churn, the particles seemed to stitch together a flowing white dress — a calf-length skirt, loose sleeves that reached just past her elbows, and a lacy neckline that lay across her collarbone. A cloak materialized, fanning out around her spinning body.
The dirt rose to her face and coated the shimmering fog with multicolored skin. Shining green eyes pierced the turbid mist, and as the particles settled a thin, alabaster face appeared. Finally, the spinning slowed, and the remaining dirt transformed into streaming red hair that draped her shoulders. When she stopped, her dress and cloak drew toward her body, accentuating her scant frame. She wobbled in place for a moment, then blinked at her audience.
“Witch,” Orion whispered, barely audible.
Randall sheathed his sword and gave her a bow. “Greetings. My name is Randall.”
“Yes, I know.” She offered a graceful curtsy. “And my name is Cassabrie.”
“Welcome to Mesolantrum.”
“Thank you.” Cassabrie walked toward him, tipping slightly.
Randall leaped forward and grabbed her forearm. “Let me help you.” Cold shot through his body, tightening his muscles, but he managed to keep his hand from locking around her arm. As soon as she seemed stable, he let go and flexed his fingers, staring at her. Arxad said Magnar had killed her. Could it be true? He held the torch closer to Cassabrie’s face. With her pale skin and gaunt cheeks, she certainly looked like a cadaver. But how could a dead girl speak and walk?
He drew the flame away, blinking as the memory of another corpse-like form resurrected. Marcelle had the same ghostly aspect and the same cold touch. What could it mean? Might she also be dead?
Cassabrie walked straight to Arxad and, with a grim countenance, addressed him in a formal tone. “I have news from Alaph.”
“Then speak,” Arxad said, giving her a nod. “His servant is listening.”
“We are to go through the portal at once and close it behind us. When the troops arrive, I will open it again.”
Arxad kept his stare focused on her. “I assume you are already aware of the consequences of such an action.”
She nodded. “We must leave your brother behind.”
“Leave him behind?” Randall shook his head. “We can’t do that. Once the troops are gone, he’ll take over the region, maybe the entire planet.”
Orion pointed at Randall. “You see? I told you they were up to mischief. They planned all along to eliminate our defenses so they could rule our world. Sending Magnar away was merely posturing, and this creature’s story is a fable, a way to get us to accept Magnar’s abandonment here.”
“Is that so?” Randall eyed Cassabrie. She seemed to delay her materialization until Magnar had left, as if knowing Arxad would suggest his departure. Everything this girl said and did seemed perfectly planned. Yet, Orion’s logic still had a flaw. “If I were Cassabrie and wanted to secretly keep Magnar here, I wouldn’t have told anyone ahead of time. I would have led everyone to the portal and then locked him out. Telling us her wishes beforehand proves her trustworthiness.”
“I appreciate the vote of confidence,” Cassabrie said, “but regardless of motive or trustworthiness, we cannot allow Magnar into Starlight. His presence in the Northlands will have disastrous consequences.”
“I understand,” Arxad said, nodding. “Is there a way he can return safely to the Southlands?”
“You could use the crystal for the mesa portal from the Starlight side.” Cassabrie angled her head and looked at Arxad’s underbelly. “Where is it? I thought it might be wedged between your scales somewhere.”
“I have it.” Randall touched his pocket. “I’ll give it to Arxad when he needs it.”
“How will Magnar and I coordinate our meeting there?” Arxad asked. “I will not be able to communicate with him.”
“We can work on that later. For now, Alaph wishes for Magnar to stay here until he has served his purpose in this world.” Cassabrie raised a hand. “The Creator as my witness, I received this command directly from his highest prophet.”
“Another ploy,” Orion said. “Perhaps it is Arxad she is manipulating. If he is an honest dragon, as you all insist, he is probably more easily duped than most of his species. An appeal to a heavenly authority is a common scheme when trying to influence a person of integrity.”
Randall pointed at him. “As you should know. I’ve seen you do it enough times.”
“Don’t be a fool, boy!” Orion’s growl matched his contorted face. “Whether or not you trust me is irrelevant. Do you trust the fate of our world to a dragon and a … a dead girl? How can she be anything but a sorceress?”
A cold draft blew from Cassabrie’s direction. “I am not a sorceress. I am a Starlighter.”
“A Starlighter? Clearly a pretty label to disguise the beast within. Whatever she is, she cannot be holy.”
Arxad looked up at the sky. “We have no time to argue. Magnar will soon wonder why we are delaying.”
“How do you lock the portal?” Randall asked.
“In the same way the portal in the mine is locked.” Cassabrie pointed at the ground and moved her finger as if drawing in the air. “There is a line of crystalline pegs. If you pull one out, the portal closes, and only one is loose enough to dislodge.”
Randall touched his pocket again, feeling the peg Arxad had given him. “Let me pull it out. I want control of the portal.”
“You already have the mesa portal crystal,” Arxad said, his ears pinned back. “Do you demand control of every access? Your arrogance and distrust threatens our alliance.”
Randall eyed the dragon. He was right. If the humans wouldn’t trust the dragons, why should the dragons trust the humans? Sighing, he withdrew the mesa peg. “You take this one. You’ll need it anyway to let Magnar back into Starlight. Just let me control who comes and goes here. Marcelle won’t want a dragon deciding.”
Cassabrie looked at Arxad. “It’s a reasonable compromise, don’t you think?”
“I agree. Put it between my scales, then let us depart.”
Cassabrie took the peg and wedged it over the vulnerable spot on Arxad’s underbelly. Once in place, she whispered into Arxad’s ear. He replied, also whispering.
Randall eyed their facial expressions. They displayed no hint of stealth. Maybe Cassabrie was simply asking if the peg was comfortable.
As soon as the conversation ended, she hurried to the center of the clearing. “When you see me disappear, then walk through.”
Randall nodded. “Proceed.”
“What?” Orion squeaked. “Are you out of your—”
Randall slapped a hand over Orion’s mouth, leaned close, and whispered, “If you don’t shut your mouth, I am going to knock you out cold. Just trust me. I’ll leave a message for Marcelle. She’ll know what to do. Agreed?”
Orion’s eyes darted around for a moment. Finally, he nodded.
“Then you’ll be quiet?”
Randall slowly released his grip. “Arxad, if you will escort Orion, I will go through last.”
“Very well. You had better hurry. Magnar is not a patient dragon.”
Now standing at the portal site, Cassabrie spread out her arms and closed her eyes. She lifted to tiptoes and began a slow rotation. Her aura returned, enveloping her again in radiant mist. Scales appeared on her forearms and lower legs, as if her skin had lost every drop of moisture. As her spin picked up speed, the scales peeled off and joined in the foggy cyclone. A new layer of scales formed, and it, too, flaked away. The process repeated until her entire body joined the flow. Soon, the mist scattered, and Cassabrie was gone.
Stretching out a wing, Arxad guided Orion toward the spot. Orion glanced once at Randall but said nothing as he and the dragon passed through the portal and disappeared.
Randall jammed the base of the torch into the ground, whipped out the pencil and the map, and smoothed out the parchment’s wrinkles over his thigh. On the blank side, he wrote, Marcelle! Beware! Magnar stayed behind.
After rolling the map into a tube, he withdrew his sword, dug a hole near the clearing’s boundary with the tip, and planted the map vertically, leaving half the parchment showing. Sighing, he whispered, “That’ll have to do. I hope Magnar doesn’t see it.”
Sword in hand, he marched toward the portal. He forced his eyes wide open. The torch’s flame flickered against the dark trees on the opposite side of the clearing. As he entered the cloud of gritty mist, the trees brightened and transformed into snow-laden evergreens.
“Human! Stop!”
Randall halted and turned. Magnar stormed down from the sky and landed in a run near the edge of the clearing. “It seems that I have arrived at precisely the right moment,” Magnar said. “Where is Cassabrie?”
Randall nodded toward the Northlands forest. “She went in there.” Now standing with one foot on Dracon and the other on his home planet, he glanced back and forth. Arxad and Orion stood at least thirty paces away, both gazing into the distance. Almost within reach, a line of crystalline pegs protruded from the snow-covered ground, but which one should he grab? If Magnar followed, he wouldn’t have time to guess wrong and try again.
“Since the portal is open,” Magnar said, “I assume she has helped us sufficiently. I will go through now.”
The dragon, his head down as if anticipating a low clearance, stalked toward Randall.
Randall held up a hand. “Wait!”
“Wait for what?” Magnar stopped and swung his head from side to side. “Is there danger?”
Randall pointed at the torch several paces behind Magnar. “If that tips over, it could start a fire.”
Magnar turned. “I will extinguish it.”
Sucking in a breath, Randall leaped toward the pegs. He grasped one and pulled. It wouldn’t budge. He slid to his right and grabbed another. It, too, stayed planted. He looked up. Magnar charged toward him, flames spewing from both nostrils.
Randall dove to the left, slid past the first peg, and snatched the next one. It jerked out, but his momentum sent him rolling sideways down a slope. He slammed into a tree, his back striking first. With pain streaking through his limbs, he blinked at the portal site. Clouds veiled the sun, and snow filtered gently through the trees, but no dragon plowed through the portal.
He opened his hand and looked at the peg—the key to returning whenever he wished. But how would he know when to let Marcelle and the troops in?
“Are you all right?”
Randall looked from side to side. There was no mistaking Cassabrie’s voice. “Where are you?”
“I am kneeling in front of you. While on Starlight, I am but a spirit, but I can become visible if I move.”
Randall searched the whiteness, but no ghostly girl appeared. He held out the crystal. “When should we open it for Marcelle?”
“Someone will have to stay here and return to your world from time to time. That’s the only way to check, but I doubt that the army will be ready for quite a while. I think you would be more valuable if you were to travel south with Jason and Elyssa.”
“Jason and Elyssa are here?”
“Yes.” A hand appeared, its palm open. “For now, you can give the crystal to me. I have need of it, and my need is urgent. Arxad has told me what I must do with it. Trust me. You will not be lacking a crystal when you need it.”
Randall searched the sea of white again. This time, a pair of green eyes shone, like two emeralds floating on a blank canvas. Her hand drew closer until it touched his cheek. Warmth flowed into his skin and coursed through his body, drawing new sweat from his pores.
“You can trust me, Randall. I am a Starlighter. What reasons could you possibly have for doubting the words I speak?”
A sense of dizziness flowed with the warmth. How could someone so gentle, so loving, so overflowing with peace possibly be untrustworthy? As her green eyes filled his vision, he whispered, “I can trust you.”
“Lower the crystal into my hand.” A shimmer appeared just above his waist, an appendage with four wispy fingers.
He set the peg gently on her palm. It sank for a moment, but with a spark-filled snap, she grasped it and slid it into an invisible pocket. “Wait here a moment.”
In a stream of flashing moves, she vanished behind a tree, then reappeared in front of him. “Now, follow me.” As she turned and floated away above the snow, her entire body became visible.
Grimacing, Randall climbed to his feet and watched her glowing outline glide across the ground. Lifting his legs high with each step, he tromped through the calf-deep snow. Cassabrie stopped behind Arxad and Orion and slowly faded, and Randall joined them at the edge of a slope that led into a valley. Far away, a range of mountains bordered the valley on the other side, their peaks reaching into the clouds. A castle lay nestled at the base of the tallest mountain. Mostly white except for three red turrets that almost reached the clouds, it appeared to be much larger than the governor’s palace back home, but at this distance it seemed impossible to tell for certain.
“Jason is there,” Cassabrie said. “A frozen river winds through the valley, making it treacherous to cross, and the castle has a hidden moat that swallows anyone traveling on foot, so Arxad will have to fly you there.”
Randall glanced at Orion. It was good that Cassabrie hadn’t mentioned Elyssa. Orion hadn’t yet proven his claim that he had stopped his murderous hunt for Diviners. Calling Cassabrie a sorceress wasn’t exactly a sign that his obsessions had changed.
“Okay,” Randall said as he fastened his cloak’s clasp. “I’m ready for a ride.”
Arxad turned toward Cassabrie. “What are you going to do?”
“If I may, I would like to ride with you. After you drop these men off at the castle, could you transport me to the Southlands?”
“I trust that this is another command from on high.” “It is. From this point on, I cannot delay at any step. All of humanity depends on my haste.”
Xenith sat atop the hideaway stone, her head just below the treetops as she scanned the forest floor. Ever since Mother dropped off the two boys she had rescued from the mill and left again to take injured humans to the Northlands, all had been quiet through the night. Now dawn approached. Still, quiet or not, this wilderness was known to be home to many beasts that could harm humans, so this perch seemed to be a good place to watch for them.
Solace, Basil, and Oliver huddled at the base of the stone immediately below her. A cool wind had descended from the mountains, so they found warmth in closeness. Xenith smiled. Sometimes humans were so humorous. Even those who fought during the hottest days would forget their quarrels and sit close together during the coldest nights. It seemed that a desire for survival brought together the bitterest of enemies. Fortunately, these children were accustomed to enduring long periods of time without food, and exposure had also been a way of life. Yet, if Mother did not return soon, she would have to search for suste
nance or at least hide them in the shelter so she could leave and learn what was delaying Mother.
A whistle sounded. Xenith jerked toward it. Could it have been the wind? Not likely. It was too sharp, too perfect.
A light shone in the midst of the trees, perhaps fifty human paces away from the stone. With a flap of her wings, Xenith descended and landed on the ground, facing the light. She kept her wings spread, shielding the younglings. If whatever lurked saw her first, it might decide a meal of human flesh was not worth the trouble of battling a dragon.
The light grew stronger. Soon a human shape emerged into the clearing, a female who seemed to be wrapped in a glow. As she walked, the trees she passed in front of stayed visible, as if she had no substance, and a cloak fanned out from her dress as if blown by an imperceptible wind. Completely white except for a sparkle of green in her eyes, she had to be one of the phantoms Father had talked about, the spirits of the dead who roamed the Northlands castle.
“Who are you?” Xenith asked. “Why are you here?”
The human stopped. “I am Cassabrie, a Starlighter from years gone by. It’s good to see you, Xenith.”
“How do you know me?”
“I know Arxad and Fellina very well. Surely your parents have spoken of me.”
“They have spoken of phantoms from the Northlands such as yourself, but I do not remember them mentioning your name.”
Cassabrie made a tsking sound. “Pity. Your father and I have discussed you a number of times. He has spoken with pride about your intelligence and your flight speed. He said you completed the hunter’s regimen in less than an hour, a record for a dragon your age.”
“This is true. I set a new standard.” Xenith flattened her ears. “You did not answer my second question. Why are you here?”
Cassabrie glided a few steps closer. “To ask for your help in this time of great danger. Your parents are too busy with other vital matters, and my task is urgent. If I don’t accomplish it, all of Starlight will likely fall under the dark wing of Taushin.”
Xenith softened her tone. “What do you want me to do?”