Liberator

by Bryan Davis

  She grasped his hand and kissed his knuckles. “I believe you, Jason Masters. When I see you again, I hope the burdens will all be lifted.”

  Jason rose slowly. “Come on, Randall. I hate leaving her here, but we don’t have any choice. Let’s hide the key where only Deference can get it, and we’ll find Elyssa.”

  “Wait.” Randall pulled Jason a little distance away and passed him his sword. He ripped open his tunic at the neck, revealing the top of his chest. Oozing sores covered his skin, deep ulcers that exposed muscle tissue and ribs. Their conversation dropped to a whisper.

  Koren craned her neck and listened, but they were obviously making secret plans. And who could blame them? They probably thought the strange Starlighter had gone mad.

  Randall backed away from Jason.

  “Are you sure?” Jason asked.

  “I’d only slow you down.” Randall sat on the floor, moaning as he clutched his stomach.

  Jason helped him slide to the column next to Koren. “Wait here. I’ll see if the medicine’s ready.”

  His eyes tightly closed, Randall nodded but said nothing.

  Jason scanned the room. “Deference, could you come with me for a moment? I need you to watch where I hide the key, then come back and take care of these two while I’m gone.”

  “Sure.” She rose from her knees at Koren’s side. “If you’re going to close the floor with the lever so you can get out, I think you have to put the key back first.”

  “Can you do that?”

  She shook her head. “I can carry something small that far, but I have to keep dropping it and picking it up again. With the floor gone, it wouldn’t work very well.”

  “Is there another way out of here?”

  She slid her ghostly hand into his. “I’ll show you. It’s not an easy exit, but Randall made it. And it’s also a perfect place to hide the key. I can slide it back to Koren without much trouble.”

  “Lead the way.”

  As Jason and Deference left, her voice continued, fading as they neared the back of the dome room. “We have to walk close to the wall, because the crystal draws me toward it. I don’t want to get pulled …” Soon they disappeared through a hidden door in the wall.

  Now alone with Randall, Koren gave him a nudge. “I really appreciate you wanting to watch over me, but you don’t have to pretend.”

  Randall fell to the side. His head settled in her lap, hot and dry. “Randall?” She pushed up an eyelid, but only the white of his eye was visible. Sores ravaged his cheek and jaw. He wheezed and gasped for breath, as if suffocating.

  She pushed him upright and felt his wrist for a pulse. His heart beat erratically, sometimes nearly stopping before racing again.

  Koren bit her lip hard. No one could fake that. Even if he had been pretending earlier, he wasn’t pretending now.

  She looked toward the hidden door, lost again in the mural of the barrier wall. “Deference! Are you there?”

  No one answered, and no glimmer of light appeared anywhere.

  Koren pulled Randall close and combed her fingers through his hair. Her manacle brushed his neck but not enough to hurt him. “Thank you for not leaving me, dear friend. Deference will be back soon, and when I convince Taushin that I’m still on his side, maybe we can get out of this mess I made.”

  As Magnar descended toward the forest, Elyssa, still dangling from his claws, pumped her legs. She had to hit the ground running. With Tibalt and Fellina lying motionless on the ground, there was no time to lose.

  A vulture stood on Fellina’s head, pecking at her eye. Magnar shot a thin line of flames. Just as the huge black bird leaped to fly away, the fire blasted into it and ignited its feathers.

  Elyssa’s feet touched down. While Magnar swung around to land, she ran to the site, knocked the flaming vulture to the side, and knelt next to Fellina and Tibalt. Tibalt, shirtless and reddened by Solarus, lay face down, his hand still pressed against Fellina’s underbelly, while Fellina lay with her neck curled toward him as if she had positioned herself to speak to him privately.

  Elyssa set her fingers on Tibalt’s throat, unable to avoid deep ulcers that exposed raw neck muscles. A pulse thrummed—weak and erratic. She placed her hand in front of Fellina’s nostrils. A bare wisp of breath spread warmth across her skin.

  Elyssa exhaled in relief.

  “Healer!” Magnar said as he skittered to a stop beside her. “What do you detect?”

  “They are alive, but barely.” She opened her hand and looked at the medicine sphere in her palm. Next to Fellina’s massive body it looked so small, but it would have to do. Now how to divide it. Seventy percent for the dragon? Eighty? This wasn’t science; it was pure guesswork. And this medicine was designed to cure the disease, not a dying dragon. Still, it had stardrop material, so swallowing it should help.

  She tore the sphere. “Magnar, please open Fellina’s mouth.”

  Magnar shuffled into position and used his foreclaws to pry her mouth open. “She is resisting. I suggest you hurry.”

  Elyssa shoved the medicine fragment toward the back of Fellina’s throat and jerked her arm out. “See if you can get her to swallow it while I work on Tibalt.”

  “Do you have a suggestion on how to accomplish that?”

  “I don’t know much about dragon anatomy. Maybe massage her jaws or stroke her neck muscles.”

  He puffed a blast of smoke, then shuffled closer and began to massage Fellina’s throat clumsily with his foreclaws.

  Elyssa turned Tibalt face up. His skin, hot to the touch, was dry and leathery. When his body shifted, his hand pulled away from a blood-soaked tunic and Fellina’s wound. Blood still trickled from a six-inch gash, but not too badly.

  She mashed the remaining medicine and rubbed it into Tibalt’s chest, not much more than a mass of connected lesions. The ointment warmed, then grew hot. Tibalt flinched. Spasms ran across his bare arms, locking his wiry biceps.

  “I think she swallowed it,” Magnar said.

  “Perfect. Thank you. We’ll give it a little time to work.”

  Magnar touched Elyssa with a wing. “Let me know when I may assist you again.”

  “I will.” She grasped his wing’s mainstay and gazed into his eyes, not nearly as fiery as they were the first time they met. “We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?”

  Magnar bobbed his head. “Indeed. Perhaps an ancient rift can be mended.”

  After releasing Magnar’s wing, Elyssa patted Tibalt’s cheek. “Tibber? Can you hear me?”

  Tibalt licked his parched lips. “I’m dreaming that a pretty girl is building a fire on my chest.”

  “It’s me, Tibber. Elyssa.”

  He opened his eyes. They looked weak and dry. “Well, I was right about the pretty girl part.”

  Elyssa grinned. “You old charmer.”

  “I thought I was a goner. What did you do?”

  She showed him the ointment residue on her fingers. “It’s the medicine that supposedly cures the disease. It looks like it’s working.”

  “What about Fellina?” He sat up a little and looked at the dragon’s face. “Did you give her medicine?”

  “By mouth. I’m only guessing that it’ll help.”

  Tibalt dabbed the blood leaking from Fellina’s wound. “Is there anything else we can do?”

  “One more thing.” Elyssa looked at Magnar. “Can you turn her on her back? I need access to her heart.”

  “I can. Help me by spreading her wings so they are not damaged when I turn her.”

  Elyssa jumped up and pulled one wing to the side. Tibalt slid to the other and held it in place. Using his tail and back legs, Magnar shoved her body until she shifted to her back.

  “Now the hard part.” Elyssa climbed onto Fellina’s chest and straddled her. “I tried this on her once before. I think I did some good, but since she’s so big, I don’t know if I have enough energy.”

  Tibalt climbed to his feet and stood close to Elyssa. “Healing drains your energ
y?” he asked.

  “Yes.” Elyssa lifted her chain and showed him the pendant. “This manna wood channels my energy to Fellina, which activates the stardrop material inside her. The more energy she gets, the more she heals.”

  “I get it.” Tibalt laid a hand on his stomach. “Does it work in reverse?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I have that stardrop stuff on my skin. Can that pendant use that energy and send it into Fellina?”

  “I suppose it could. Once I get the process started, whatever the pendant can absorb on the outside will be sent into Fellina.” She gave him a quizzical look. “Why do you ask?”

  “Just thinking. I’m not sure the medicine’s going to heal me. It feels like a rabid porcupine is stirring my guts into a stew with a pitchfork.”

  “I didn’t give you much. I’ll try to save some energy for you.”

  He smiled and patted her cheek. “Don’t worry about me. Heal Fellina. She deserves better than to let those human haters knock her out of the sky.”

  “Too much chatter,” Magnar said, thrusting his head between them. “Proceed with the healing.”

  Elyssa ignored him. “Let me try first.”

  She turned and laid her hand on Fellina’s chest. Her scales were thick and hard, making them difficult to penetrate, but after several seconds, the stardrop came into focus. “I’ve got it. Now to give it a boost.”

  As she concentrated on the channel, the pendant began to glow. Energy drained from her body. Her arms ached, and dizziness swam through her head. Inside Fellina, unseen except to her probing senses, the medicine sphere expanded, and thin lines of radiance shot out in all directions, as if sending healing power throughout Fellina’s body.

  “Elyssa,” Tibalt said, “you look like you’re losing a fight with a battering ram.”

  Gasping for breath, she nodded. “It’s draining me. I think it’s working, but I don’t know how long I can hold out.”

  “Well, let me ride that pony. I’ll help you lasso that fireball.” Tibalt climbed onto Fellina’s chest in front of Elyssa and scooted as close as he could, face to face. He grabbed the pendant and pressed it against his chest. “Let’s see what happens now.”

  “Tibalt!” She tried to snatch the pendant back, but he held on. “You’re too weak. If it drains you —”

  He returned her gaze squarely. “I know. Just keep channeling, or whatever it is you do.” Tibalt’s voice weakened. “Like I said, she deserves it. Besides, those slaves need a warrior dragon on their side more than an old coot like me.”

  “Magnar,” Elyssa said, trying to calm her breathing, “try to wake her up. Once we know she’s not going to die, we can stop.”

  “Yes, of course.” Magnar nudged her head with his snout. “Fellina. You must awaken. These humans are trying to help you, and their efforts are endangering them.”

  Fellina lifted her head. “Magnar?”

  “There!” Elyssa said, pointing. “She’s up. She’s going to be all right.”

  Tibalt released the pendant. His shoulders slumped, and his head drooped.

  “Tibalt?” She prodded his arm. “You did it! Without you I could never have —”

  He fell to the side and toppled to the ground.

  “Tibber!” Elyssa leaped down and pulled him into her arms. “Tibber, are you all right?”

  Fellina scrambled to right herself and snaked her neck to bring her head close to Tibalt’s face. “He is breathing, but he carries a death rattle in his chest.”

  “Oh, Tibber!” Elyssa drew his emaciated body close and rocked him as she wept. “You didn’t have to do that. Healing is my job.”

  Magnar brought his head close as well. “His heroism is astonishing. I have never seen such a sacrifice among the slaves here — and for a dragon no less.”

  “I’m a hero?” Tibalt murmured.

  “Tibber?” Elyssa lowered him to her lap. “Yes, you’re a hero, one of the greatest.”

  His eyelids fluttered. “Don’t heroes get a medal?”

  “Absolutely.” Elyssa looked at Magnar. “Isn’t that right?”

  “If my recommendation carries any weight,” Magnar said, “he will receive the highest honors possible.”

  “I always wanted a medal, but they don’t give those out in the dungeon.” Tibalt’s eyelids settled closed, and his head lolled to the side.

  “Tibber?” Elyssa kneaded his scalp. “Tibber! Say something!”

  “He is gone,” Fellina said. “Flown to be with the Creator.”

  “Nooo!” Elyssa wailed. “It can’t be! He’s not a soldier! He’s not a warrior! He’s … he’s …” She pulled him close and rocked him again. “He’s my friend.”

  Fellina touched Magnar with a wing. “What are we to do?”

  “We must join the battle against the Benefile and Taushin’s forces. It goes poorly for us. We are desperately needed.”

  “But we cannot leave Elyssa here alone.”

  “Go, Fellina,” Elyssa said through a narrowed throat. “I’ll find my way back.”

  “You cannot carry Tibalt’s body that far. You are too weak, and you cannot leave a hero’s body to the vultures.”

  “I will carry him,” Magnar said. “It will be an honor.”

  A new voice sounded from the forest. “I’ll take care of him.”

  Wallace ran into the clearing and knelt at Tibalt’s side. “I’ve been watching for a while. I didn’t want to poke my nose where it doesn’t belong.”

  Elyssa laid a hand on Wallace’s shoulder. “You’ll keep the vultures away until we come back?”

  “I’ll do better than that.” Wallace lifted the wooden figure from his trousers. “While I’m waiting, I’ll make a carving just like this one. A hero deserves that, right?”

  “A permanent image of Tibalt.” Elyssa slid Tibalt’s body to the ground. “Thank you. I’m sure he’d appreciate that.”

  Fellina bobbed her head. “We will be sure to honor this courageous human after the battle is won.”

  “And I,” Magnar said as he stretched out his powerful wings, “will fight like I never have before. The humans will be set free. I swear it.”

  Elyssa rose and touched Magnar’s wing. “Shall I ride on you?”

  “It will be an honor.” Magnar lowered his head, allowing Elyssa to climb to his back. When she settled, he and Fellina took to the air. As they ascended, Wallace picked up a stray branch, sat next to Tibalt, and began whittling the bark.

  Elyssa straightened and looked ahead. New tears for Tibalt tried to emerge, but she shook the sadness away. Too many battles lay ahead, along with too many healings. Conserving energy was paramount.

  She clutched the pendant and pressed it against her chest. This symbol of hope had drained the life of a dear friend. It brought joy and sorrow at the same moment. The rejoicing over a healed dragon was drowned in laments.

  Closing her eyes, Elyssa breathed a quick prayer. “Creator, may this instrument of healing never be a cause for weeping again. And may I be as courageous as the hero from the dungeon. Let me take up his sword and fight in his name.”

  Twenty

  Jason rolled out of the broken hay cart and stood upright. His back sore from the tumble, he stretched it out. Deference’s “other way out” wasn’t exactly what he had in mind. “Okay, Deference, that worked.”

  “Good.” She appeared at his side, waving a hand at the ground. “Don’t forget your sword.”

  He picked up the scabbard and looked toward the front of the Zodiac. “Are you going back to Koren now?”

  “I’ll come with you. If I can see what’s going on, I can report it to Koren. It’s easy for me to go through the main corridor even without a floor. If you let me ride on your back, I’ll stay invisible.”

  “Okay. Go ahead.”

  Gripping with her sparkling hands, she shimmied up his back, raising a sea of tingling goose bumps. She wrapped her arms around his neck, whispered, “I’m ready,” and faded from sight.
>
  Jason attached the scabbard to his belt. “Let’s go.”

  He drew his sword, jogged to the corner, and peeked around. Above the portico roof, dragons battled in the air, screaming and spitting fire and ice. Three white dragons zipped up, down, and around as if able to turn without regard to momentum. The Southlands dragons seemed slow and lethargic by comparison, perhaps exhausted by combat. Even though they outnumbered the white dragons ten to one, they were clearly outmatched.

  Soldiers from Major Four stood around the portico, weapons and shields ready. At the top of the stairs, many slaves had gathered in a tightly packed group, most sitting and some standing in a short line. Jason’s father stood at the front of the line, facing the others, his body and head bent.

  Keeping his head and sword low, Jason ran toward the portico. He dodged a frozen dragon and came upon a human body curled on its side about ten paces before the bottom of the stairs. With long hair covering her face and curves drawing a post-adolescent figure, she appeared to be about fifteen or sixteen. Wearing the short trousers of a labor slave, her legs were bare, save for deep sores from ankles to knees.

  Jason pushed her hair back, revealing her ravaged face. Although marred by sores, she looked a little like Elyssa.

  “She’s dead,” a man leaning on a staff called from the top of the stairs.

  “Are you sure?” Jason pressed his fingers against the girl’s neck and checked for a pulse. Nothing. He set a hand in front of her mouth and nose but felt no air. After turning her to her back, he laid his ear against her chest and listened, holding a hand over his other ear to shut out the screaming dragons.

  “Should I go now?” Deference whispered.

  “Can you check this girl for a heartbeat first?”