Bryan Davis

by Starlighter (v5)

  “A most interesting story,” Magnar said, “but lying does not become you.”

  “Lying?” Arxad blinked. “I have spoken no falsehoods, and the Reflections Crystal shows that every word is true.”

  Magnar looked at the crystal column. The globe at the top reflected a gleam of sunlight that projected a barely visible ray toward Arxad.

  “Speak an obvious lie,” Magnar commanded.

  Arxad glanced at Jason before answering, “I am not here.”

  The globe slowly changed from clear to gray, and finally to black.

  “It appears to be functioning properly.” Magnar scanned Arxad’s body. “Your wounds also corroborate your battle story, but when Maximus arrives, I will hear his account of events as well.”

  Arxad lowered his head. “Maximus will not be arriving.”

  “What?” Sparks flew from Magnar’s nostrils. “What happened to him?”

  “Our struggle took us into the river. Of course I had to defend myself, but after a great battle, he drowned.”

  “Drowned?” Black smoke shot skyward from Magnar’s snout. “How could a powerful dragon drown in a shallow river unless someone held him under the water?”

  Arxad glanced at the crystal, a look so brief, Jason thought Magnar couldn’t have seen it. The globe had faded, but it was still somewhat gray.

  “I held him under, great Magnar. It was not my purpose to drown him. I merely hoped to keep him from killing me. As powerful as he is, my only chance was to use my greater weight to my advantage.”

  Magnar swung his head toward the globe. It stayed a dull, smoky gray. “If you are still speaking the truth, why is the crystal not growing clear?”

  “Neither is it darkening,” Arxad replied. “The crystal knows that I speak the truth as I understand it, though I am unsure of my own motivations. You see, I have despised Maximus for many years, and I wonder if my old hatred has clouded my perception. I can assure you, however, that if I had any intent to drown him, I did it only for the future of Starlight, not to save the girl.”

  The crystal instantly turned clear. Magnar stared at it and nodded. “Your loyalty to our race is undiminished, but you will have to stand trial. Even an accidental death must be investigated thoroughly.”

  Arxad bowed his head. “I understand.”

  “I want to ask you about this boy who implies that he is an emissary from another world.”

  Arxad’s brow lifted. “You mean, the crystal is—”

  “No. When I checked the portal, it was still closed, and the crystal was not there. Have any of your communications with Prescott provided information that would explain this boy’s presence here?”

  Jason leaned closer. The conversation was getting much more interesting.

  Arxad extended his neck and looked Jason over for a moment. “I have never seen him in my life. I have no idea how he arrived here, so I think it best to maintain silence in front of him about these matters until we learn more.”

  “Agreed, and the crystal again confirms your words. Perhaps a round of torture for this fellow would induce—”

  A squeak sounded. Magnar turned toward a cavernous hallway. Zena emerged, leading Koren by a chain attached to a neck iron. No longer wearing bonds on her ankles, Koren walked unhindered, her cloak flowing behind her and a black gag covering her mouth, a stark contrast to her flowing white gown.

  From a strap over her shoulder, Zena carried the same bag from which she had earlier drawn a dagger. That side of her body drooped, proving that something heavy weighed her down, and she glanced at it with every careful stride.

  “Chain her to the crystal,” Magnar ordered. “And allow her to speak.”

  Staring straight ahead, Zena set the bag down and pulled her prisoner toward the crystal. As Koren passed by Jason, she looked at him, her eyes imploring. Her green orbs seemed to speak once again, but not with an appeal for rescue. She begged him to run, to save himself.

  Jason shook his head. He couldn’t run. He had to stay and figure out a way to escape with her. But how? Two fire-breathing dragons could catch him and turn them into a pair of torches with a single puff.

  Zena pressed Koren’s back against the column and locked the chain to a ring embedded in the stone floor, choosing a link that kept the chain tight between the ring and her prisoner’s neck.

  With her arms and fingers straining to make the chain tight, Zena wrapped the remaining links around Koren’s chest and, using a padlock as big as her hand, fastened them together behind the column. Then, with dramatic flair, she drew the dagger from her bag and sliced Koren’s gag at her cheek, nicking her skin in the process. As the gag drooped and fell, a trickle of Koren’s blood followed.

  Jason’s anger boiled. He focused on the key in Zena’s bony fingers, a long silver one. Immediately, Elyssa’s words came back to mind: It’s important to remember details that might help you later, even the shape of keys.

  He studied the key—three square notches on the shaft and a blunt oval end attached to a metal ring with at least eight other keys of similar size and color. As Zena attached the ring to a strap on her bag, he felt his pockets for his own ring of keys, but it was gone, likely swept away during his wild ride in the river.

  “Your spells will not allow you to escape,” Magnar said as he walked in front of Koren and looked her in the eye. “Now will you tell us a tale?”

  Koren glared at him. With her cheek bleeding, her eyes sparkling, and her red hair blowing in the warm breeze, she looked like a persecuted prophetess ready to announce an oracle of doom, as if dragon’s fire might erupt from her lips at any moment and consume her adversaries.

  Yet not a hint of bitterness spiced her words as she said with a meek voice, “What tale do you wish to hear?”

  Magnar glanced at Arxad before replying. “Take us back to the day when Uriel Blackstone escaped. He hid something that belongs to me, and I want to know where it is.”

  “Very well,” Koren said. “If I may have some water, I am sure I will be able to deliver this tale more clearly.”

  Jason studied Koren’s expression. Why was she being so submissive, so willing to give Magnar what he wanted? Might the request for water be a ploy? Was it a distraction so her rescuer could think of a way to set her free?

  Magnar nodded at Zena. “Get a flask, and be quick about it.”

  “The closest flask suitable for a human’s use would be in the Basilica,” Zena said.

  Magnar’s voice sharpened. “Then get it!”

  “As you wish.” Zena hoisted the bag by its strap and trudged toward a doorway.

  “Leave that here,” Magnar ordered. “It will only slow you down. I want you back here as quickly as possible.”

  Zena stared at him with her blank eyes. “But the prince—”

  “I know what is in there! Leave it!” Magnar draped a wing over the bag. “The prince demanded attendance, so let him stay. No harm will come to him.”

  As soon as Zena left, Jason looked at Koren. Her eyes focused on the bag. He spotted the key ring dangling from a loop, barely visible under Magnar’s wing. How could anyone sneak up and remove the key without him noticing?

  “Magnar,” Arxad said, displaying a grimace. “While we are waiting, would you mind looking at a wound on my back? I cannot bend my neck far enough to see it, and it feels quite deep. I think Maximus’s claws were the sharpest in all of Starlight.”

  “I am not a physician,” Magnar growled. “It seems to me that you deserve your wounds. See to that later.”

  Arxad glanced at the bag before returning his gaze to Magnar. “Perhaps you should get the boy to put the prince in position before Zena returns. It will save time.”

  “Have a resident of Darksphere handle the black egg?” Magnar pulled the bag closer to his body. “I should say not! I am in a hurry to find the answer I seek, but not in that much of a hurry.”

  Jason looked at Arxad’s darting eyes. He was plotting something, apparently trying to get Magnar’s att
ention, but the first two attempts, both hasty and desperate, had failed. Even though the bag now sat closer to Magnar, his wing was no longer touching the top.

  Finally, Arxad bowed his head. “Great Magnar, I have a confession to make about my battle with Maximus, and I trust that you will be a fair judge.”

  “Confession?” Magnar edged closer to Arxad, his wing still over the bag. “Are you willing to forego a trial?”

  Jason tightened his muscles. This was his chance, but he had to hurry. He tiptoed toward the bag, straining against the rope that bound his wrists. Just a little slack would be all he needed.

  “I…” Arxad kept his stare fixed on Magnar. “I am willing to let you decide my fate.”

  Jason stooped and ducked under Magnar’s wing. Using both hands, he grasped the ring, found the correct key, and began threading it off the metallic circle. He begged the keys to stay silent. No clinking together, or he would get fried for sure.

  Magnar shifted his body slightly. Jason shifted with him. The dragon’s wing brushed the top of his head, but Magnar apparently didn’t notice.

  “You see,” Arxad said, his words coming out slowly, as if each syllable brought great pain, “Maximus and I have never been close friends.”

  Jason detached the key and slid it into his mouth. Then, he opened the bag and looked inside. The black egg lay in a nest of wadded cloths with the dagger’s hilt protruding from an inner sheath.

  “Yes, yes, I know,” Magnar said. “Go on.”

  Jason withdrew the dagger and, twisting it in his hands to grip it properly, began slicing the rope.

  “But,” Arxad continued, “he has respected my wisdom and counsel. He once asked me about a problem he had with his mate.”

  As he continued sawing the rope, Jason glanced at Koren and the stake. The globe on top stayed clear.

  Arxad’s voice lowered, as if he were whispering a secret. “I am wondering if his despondency over his marital situation might have led to his initial mistake, his allowing the Starlighter to enter the Basilica.”

  The globe turned gray, but it seemed that Magnar hadn’t noticed. Jason continued sawing. It wouldn’t be long now.

  “I think I might have taken advantage of Maximus’s emotional state, and he surrendered to my strength more easily than a dragon of his stature might have otherwise.”

  “Are you saying that Maximus allowed you to drown him?” Magnar asked.

  Arxad just nodded.

  Jason looked at the globe again. It remained smoky gray. Could it detect a nod, or did a lie have to be verbal?

  “What kind of confession is that?” Magnar barked. “You are heaping blame on Maximus, not yourself.”

  When he had sawed through ninety percent of the rope, Jason returned the dagger to its sheath.

  “What are you doing?”

  Jason snapped his head around. Zena’s voice! He shuffled backwards, but not quickly enough to avoid Magnar’s swinging tail. It batted his ribs and sent him flying across the room. He rolled like a log, nearly swallowing the key, and stopped next to Koren’s feet.

  “Be brave,” Koren whispered. Her voice trembled ever so slightly. “We are never forsaken.”

  He looked up at her. In spite of the brutal chains and the bleeding wound on her cheek, she seemed so peaceful, so filled with compassion.

  “What trickery were you concocting?” Magnar roared.

  Jason shot up to a sitting position and used his tongue to tuck the key between his cheek and gum. “I was trying to escape,” he said, showing Magnar the still-intact rope and his empty hands.

  He glanced up at the globe. It was clear.

  “The prince!” Zena threw down a leather flask, stalked

  to the bag, and swept it into her arms. Heaving a sigh, she hugged it against her chest. “He is unharmed!”

  Magnar glared at Arxad. “Were you trying to distract me?”

  When Magnar looked away, Jason spat the key into his hand and enclosed it in his fist.

  “I was trying to get your attention, great Magnar, but not for the purpose of allowing the boy to harm the egg. That would be pure treason. I hoped to explain my relationship with Max—”

  “Enough!” Magnar looked at the globe. It stayed clear. “Is the crystal still working?”

  “Let’s find out.” Jason fixed his stare on Magnar. “You are a just and noble dragon.”

  The globe instantly turned black.

  Magnar spewed a ball of flames that splashed on the ground near Jason’s leg, sending sparks across his clothes. He followed with a bellow. “I will not be taunted with contemptuous blather from a petulant human! I keep you alive for one reason.”

  Maintaining a scowl on his face, Jason remained seated. “What reason is that?”

  “To ensure that the Starlighter tells me the story I request. I will incinerate you if she does not.”

  Jason looked up at Koren. Her eyes now told him to be quiet. All would be well.

  “Set the prince in position,” Magnar said, “and let us proceed without further delay.”

  Zena took the egg out of the bag and laid it in the middle of the cloths about five paces in front of the crystal. She then retrieved the flask and held it to Koren’s lips. With her head tilting back, Koren took a long drink, the muscles in her delicate but dirty throat pulsing with each swallow. When Zena pulled the flask away, Koren coughed and took several deep breaths. When she settled, she stared at the egg, her arms limp and her body resting against the binding chains.

  Staying in a sitting position, Jason scooted back toward the egg. He kept his hands in his lap. Could he secretly break free from the rope? At this spot, the egg would be out of reach of his bound hands, which would make its corpse-like keeper happy, but once loosed, he would be able to grab the egg easily.

  Koren pulled the hood up over her head. She closed her eyes for a moment and took another deep breath. When she opened them again, they seemed to shine like beacons in the hood’s shadow, and the globe at the top of the stake began to glow, brilliant and white.

  “I am a Starlighter,” she said in a clear, loud tone. “I will take you back to a time when Magnar was one of only two dragons who knew of Darksphere’s existence.”

  Twenty-Two

  Light from above streamed into the globe, as if the sun poured radiance into its crystalline surface. The glow spread out like an aura, and Koren’s cloak took on a brilliant dazzle. Even the embroidered green eyes shone.

  The aura spread across the nearby egg and reflected back toward her with dark light, as if the shell were casting a shadow. When the darkness passed over her, a voice entered her mind, smooth and low. If you tell this tale to Magnar, he will no longer need the boy. The only reason he stays alive is so that you will use your gifts to reveal the past. Once you have done Magnar’s bidding, he will surely kill the alien human.

  Koren looked through the shadow and locked her gaze on the reflective shell. She streamed a thought toward it. If I don’t do this, he will kill Jason anyway. Maybe I can learn something that will stop him. It’s my only hope.

  Again the voice spoke in her mind. Better to let Jason die without revealing the secret, for Magnar will surely use this knowledge to gain more human slaves and eventually conquer their world. Refuse him, and I will keep you safe. All you need do is submit to my chains.

  Keeping her head turned toward the egg, Koren glanced at Jason. He seemed to be working on an escape plan, though Magnar hadn’t noticed. If this brave young man had risked his life to rescue her and also managed to survive a flood, maybe he could work another miracle now. Finally, she focused on the egg again. I will take that chance.

  “What is the delay?” Magnar shouted.

  As the aura faded and shrank, Koren swallowed. “The prince interrupted my concentration.”

  Magnar swung his head toward Zena. “What is the prince doing?”

  “I will ask.” Zena pulled something from the bag and pressed it against the egg’s shell.

 
Koren squinted. The object looked like a girl’s finger!

  Jason grasped his shirt, tugging it open. A patch of skin on his chest pulsed with purple light. He bit his lip and grimaced.

  After craning her neck for a moment, as if listening to something, Zena nodded and put the finger back in the bag. “The prince is encouraging the Starlighter to submit to him. He wishes to continue speaking to her while she is telling her tale.”

  Magnar angled his neck back toward Koren. “Was he speaking to you?”

  “He was.” Koren sagged within her cocoon of chains. “But when he speaks, I am unable to concentrate. I wish to tell this tale, but I cannot do so unless I can stay focused.”

  “Is this merely the prince’s request?” Magnar asked Zena.

  She nodded. “A most earnest one, but he will acquiesce to your wishes. This trial is for your benefit, not his.”

  “Cover him!” Magnar ordered. “I must learn the truth!”

  Zena draped one of the nest cloths over the egg, shutting off the blackness.

  Koren took in a deep breath and straightened her body. “I can continue now.”

  “Proceed,” Magnar said. “The egg will stay covered.”

  As Koren continued breathing deeply, the aura strengthened and began spreading again like a widening cylinder of light. A powerful force weighed down her mind, evil, dragon-like. She allowed her face to twist and her voice to deepen into a growl. “Since you will never escape, it will serve you well to obey. Death is the only other option.”

  Ghostly images appeared within the aura—a dragon resembling Magnar and ten or more humans, all but one groveling on their knees. One man stood tall, and as he strode up to the dragon, Koren spoke his words in the tone of a masculine human. “If given that option, you foul beast, I gladly choose death over slavery.”

  Koren switched voices as quickly as the characters surrounding her switched speakers.

  “Uriel,” Magnar’s image said, “you amuse me too much. Killing you would be like slaying a clownbird. Even as good as they are to eat, their antics are too amusing to use them as food.”