by Bryan Davis
“Very well. He is part of the security detail for your execution, so it shouldn’t take long. Still, I am not sure whether or not I will grant your desire to be led to the stake by him. I have to throw Maelstrom some kind of bone in this affair.” Orion walked out and closed the door behind him, dimming the cell again, though the lantern remained on the wall mount, providing a weak, flickering light. A moment later, the lock clicked.
Marcelle sat heavily on the bench. The scoundrel! Threatening children to keep himself in power! And with the military leaders under his thumb, what good would it do to try to muster an army? They would be too paralyzed by fear to join her.
She grasped a chain and threaded it between her fingers, letting the links drop to the floor one by one as the minutes passed. The lantern’s glow flickered on her hands. In the wavering light, her fingers appeared to be burning, writhing in the dancing fire. Soon, if her plan failed, she would be in a real fire, a spirit trapped inside a burning shell.
She looked at the door. When would Captain Reed arrive? Might his children be among those Orion held captive? If so, maybe he would be sympathetic to her cause and willing to listen to a plan.
But what plan? To rescue the slaves from Dracon? To rescue a sword maiden from the stake? Or to rescue children from an evil tyrant here on Major Four?
Marcelle dropped the chain and sighed. The slaves on Starlight would have to wait. Her own rescue was now secondary. The children of Major Four had to come first.
Adrian stood at the outside edge of the healing trees, the light of dawn sending his shadow between two trunks. Holding Regina’s hand, he tapped his sword high on the bark. “You saw Drexel up there?”
She nodded. “But only in my dream. He’s not there now.”
“Do you know where he is?”
Staring straight ahead, she spoke in a hush. “It is too dim to see what’s around him, but he’s wet. I can tell that. A girl is with him, Sarah I suppose.”
“Are they at the spring?”
A muffled cry sounded from within the glade.
“That answers my question. Come on.” Holding Regina’s hand, he squeezed between the trunks and into the darker interior. As they skulked closer, the bubbling stream masked their splashes, though the water seemed shallower than before.
Soon, Drexel’s voice rose above the din. “Try once more, and then we can stop. I promise.”
A girl’s voice followed, punctuated by sniffles. “But you promised last time.”
“I know. But you almost have it. Just nudge it a little bit more. If you stop the water, I’ll let you go back to the others.”
Bending low, Adrian drew within a few steps, now close enough to see Sarah standing at the opposite edge of the spring’s opening. Drexel stooped next to her, holding an axe in one hand and her ragged braid in the other. Wearing nothing but dripping short trousers, she sobbed through her words. “Okay. … I’ll try once more. … Just don’t cut me again.”
Touching Regina’s lips to signal for quiet, Adrian advanced a foot. If he could get within five paces, he could charge and knock Drexel down before he had a chance to react.
Just as Adrian took another step, Drexel’s eyes flared. He grabbed Sarah around the waist from behind and held the axe’s blade next to her throat. “Don’t come any closer,” he shouted, his voice quaking, “or I’ll slit her throat!”
Adrian stood upright, his fist tight around the hilt of his sword. “Are you playing the coward’s role again? Hiding behind a starving little girl?”
“You give me no choice, Adrian. I am merely trying to survive.”
Regina tugged on Adrian’s belt from behind and whispered, “Keep him talking.” Adrian reached to grab her, but her hand slipped from his grasp. With barely a sound, she blended into the darkness.
“Survival as a cowardly dog is worse than death.”
“Stop the preaching! You’ve been reading too many hero storybooks!” Drexel’s breaths came fast and heavy as his words squeezed through his straining throat. “Only fools never learn that survival is the most basic instinct. They think dying as a martyr is honorable, but their dead ears cannot hear the eulogy from the grave.”
Adrian scanned the area. What was Regina planning? It seemed clear that Drexel was unaware of her presence. Maybe she could create a distraction that would allow a rescue, but she needed their voices to keep track of where they were. Appealing to Drexel’s desire to pontificate might work. “I see your point, but won’t the martyr’s descendants be blessed? You have to admit that’s a benefit to heroism.”
“A temporary benefit.” Taking in a deep breath, Drexel rose slowly, the axe blade still at Sarah’s throat. Bare-chested and wet, she shivered in place. “Heroic acts warp into fanciful myths that no one really believes. We all assume that the hero was motivated by the desire for fame, which even you seem to confess.”
“I was simply asking a question. I am motivated by love, and I hope to avoid fame.”
“Then I will grant your wish. Just throw your sword next to me and leave. No harm will come to you or this girl, which is what you and I both desire. Since it would be madness for me to relate this unsavory event, no one will ever know what happened here.”
Adrian again scanned the glade. Of course Drexel would never let the girl live. Otherwise, she would eventually tell the tale.
Walking on tiptoes, Regina approached Drexel from behind. Adrian forced himself not to focus on her. If she were to be successful with a distraction, he had to create one of his own. He laid his sword across his palms. “Where shall I throw it?”
Drexel nodded at the space to his left. “There will be fine.”
Regina drew within three steps, a hand reaching toward Drexel’s head.
“Are you ready?” Adrian asked.
Both Drexel and Regina nodded, Regina now only a step behind him.
Moving slowly, Adrian regripped the hilt. “Here it comes.” With an underhanded motion, he tossed the sword to Drexel’s left, aiming for a point out of reach. When it splashed at the perfect spot, Drexel reached for it, momentarily loosening his hold on Sarah.
Regina grabbed his hair and jerked him back. The axe flew from his grip and sailed into the darkness. Adrian charged. Drexel lunged for the sword and scooped it into his grasp. Regina grabbed Sarah and tried to push her away, but they both plunged into the spring, Sarah first and Regina dropping after her.
Adrian skidded to a stop at the edge of the spring’s opening. Gasping for breath, Drexel stood a few steps beyond the opposite side. Water dripped from his hair and mustache as he pointed the blade at Adrian. “I am not the swordsman you are, but I’ll wager I can defeat any unarmed opponent.”
Adrian glanced at the spring. Water streamed around his feet more slowly than before, and noxious gasses rose with every bursting bubble. He dropped to his knees and thrust an arm deep into the hole, but there was no sign of the girls.
Drexel leaped forward, swinging the sword. Adrian ducked under the blade, rolled to his back, and thrust out his legs. His feet planted in Drexel’s stomach, sending him flying backwards. Still clutching the sword, he landed on his bottom and slid out of sight.
Adrian rocked to his feet and jumped into the spring. For a moment, his hips wedged at the sides of the opening, then like a slurping drain, the water pulled him down through a vertical tunnel until he splashed into a rushing current. His feet struck ground first, then his hands plunged up to his wrists in the sandy bottom of a shallow stream. His momentum sent him into a horizontal roll that deposited him at the water’s edge.
Sitting up, he extended an arm. “Regina? Are you here?” His voice echoed in the cavern.
“I’m here. Sarah’s here, too. She moved a stone that was blocking the river.”
Reaching again, Adrian grasped a hand. “Is this Regina or Sarah?”
“Regina. Sarah’s right here.”
She guided Adrian’s hand to a wet, trembling wrist. He pulled both girls close and wrapped them up i
n his arms. “Is either of you hurt?”
“Not me,” Regina said. “Just wet.”
“I’m wet and cold.” Sarah shivered in his embrace, her bare back hot to the touch.
Adrian rubbed her back briskly. She seemed to be feverish and suffering from chills. “So you swam down here and dislodged a stone?”
“A big one. I kept pulling and pulling, but I always ran out of air before I could get it loose, so I had to swim back up. Drexel kept making me go again until I got the rock out of the river’s way. He wanted the water to stop coming up the hole.”
“Where is the rock? I could push it back in place so we could swim up with the spring.”
“That way.”
“Are you pointing?”
“Yes.” Sarah grasped his wrist and pushed it in the downstream direction. “You can almost reach it.”
“Let’s get you to a safe place.” After guiding the girls onto the bank, Adrian rose, lifting a hand as he straightened. When his fingers touched the ceiling, he halted his rise and stayed bent over at the waist. He took in a breath. The air was fetid, the same smell the spring’s belches carried to the surface.
He walked through the calf-deep water. After only two paces, his legs bumped against something hard. Feeling with his hands, he painted a mental image. The hard object was the stone—round and about a foot and a half high. The water rushed around it on both sides and exited the chamber through a hole in a wall that was slightly smaller than the rock. It seemed that Sarah had taken advantage of the fact that the water, which had filled this cavern at the time, had buoyed the stone’s weight, so she was able to pull it away from the hole just enough to allow the current to sneak around the edges.
He touched the outer borders of the wall’s exit hole, perhaps just big enough to crawl through. The edges were somewhat soft, probably the result of years of being assaulted by a never-ending barrage of water.
Using both hands he pushed the rock into place, sealing the hole. Water splashed against the blockade and began to rise. He lunged back and stooped with the girls, wrapping each in an arm. “Get ready to hold your breath. We’ll ride the water up to—”
A loud crunch sounded along with the splatter of debris striking water. As the splashing eased, the water level receded. Sighing, Adrian set the girls down again, crawled to the hole, and felt around. The rock still sat in the middle of the stream where he had left it, but the hole was now much larger, probably big enough to walk through. Apparently the new surge of water had broken the edges of the hole away.
“Well, we won’t be swimming to the top with the current.” Adrian looked up and again created a picture in his mind, this time an image of what might be happening on ground level. Drexel succeeded in stopping the spring’s upwelling, and now he had the sword and probably an axe as well. What would he do? Use the blades to get the Bloodless out of the trees? Go to the cabin and kidnap another child? Maybe both.
“Can we climb?” Regina asked. “I’m a good climber.”
“I’m not sure.” Adrian rose and, reaching up with both hands, ran his fingers along the ceiling until he found the tunnel leading to the surface. Its smooth sides and narrow width made the prospects of climbing low, especially while carrying a girl. Even if he could get to the top alone, without a rope, there would be no way to pull them out.
Sighing again, he shook his head, though they likely couldn’t see it in the dark. “There’s no way.”
“So what do we do?”
“I’m thinking.” He stared into the blackness. The only other choice seemed to be to follow the river, but in which direction? With both girls so cold and wet, making the wrong decision could cost them their lives.
Listening to the water, he drew a map in his mind. Upstream appeared to head toward the rivulet where the boys found Frederick’s sword. Maybe that stream plunged underground somewhere nearby. After finding the entry point and digging out, it would be easy to get back to the cabin. Yet, downstream might come out somewhere beyond the barrier wall, and he could take the girls to the Northlands where they would be out of danger for good.
He shook his head. Too cold. They would freeze before he could get there. Still, it might be worth seeing where it came out. Maybe all the refugee children could escape that way. And since rivers tended to get wider as they progressed, there might be plenty of room to walk between here and wherever the river finally surfaced. Not only that, he could allow Sarah to bathe in the healing river all along the way. The longer she applied the water, the better her chances of being healed would be.
Crouching, he scooped up a handful of water and drank it. The river would, indeed, provide a cool, healing flow, but choosing to follow it in either direction would allow Drexel to have his way with the healing trees. If he released the white dragons, who could tell what evils they might unleash on the world? The result might bring about the deaths of many more little girls than Regina and Sarah. He could try to climb by himself, promising to return. The girls would be safe here for a little while, but with Drexel standing up there with a sword ready to whack off any head that popped up from the ground, returning to the surface might be impossible.
Adrian drew in a deep breath. Taking care of the girls in his care was the best choice. He would have to trust others to watch over everyone else. Frederick was still out there somewhere, and maybe Marcelle found healing in the spring after all. And didn’t the Creator care for the children of Starlight more than did any of the rescuers from Major Four?
“Are you still thinking?” Regina asked. “You’ve been awfully quiet.”
“I’m finished … for now.”
“I can help you think, you know. I told you I could help you.”
“You were right. You did a great job distracting Drexel, but I was worried when you two fell in the hole.”
“Oh, we didn’t fall. I pushed Sarah and jumped in after her so we could move the stone and hide down there. I knew you’d fight better if you weren’t worried about him hurting one of us.”
“That was good thinking,” Adrian said, laughing. “I wish I had known ahead of time. I was worried anyway.”
Regina sighed. “I’m sorry. I was hoping you’d figure it out.”
“I probably should have. I need to learn to trust you completely.” He took a hand of each girl. “Let’s see if we can find a way out of here.”
* * *
TWELVE
* * *
WITH the rays of dawn shining through the palace’s rear doorway, Marcelle looked around the brightening lobby. Captain Reed stood at attention to her left, Maelstrom to her right, each holding one of her chains. Out in the Enforcement Zone, a crowd had already gathered, watching the executioner as he arranged bundles of wood at the burning stake’s base. Orion paced near the perimeter, pointing at the wood as if giving instructions.
“You are lucky,” Maelstrom said. “The governor is showing you far more mercy than I would.”
Marcelle stared straight ahead, not wanting to look the Starlighter in the eye. “You mean besides countermanding the gag order?”
He nodded. “I would use slow-burning green wood to make you suffer for a long time, but Orion is placing manna bark around the stake. It burns quickly and provides a sedating effect. You will likely feel very little pain.”
“But if I’m sedated …” Marcelle let the thought die. No use tipping her hand to Maelstrom about her plan to whip potential soldiers into a passionate frenzy. Since Orion had agreed to allow her ten minutes to speak before the execution commenced, the sedation issue might not matter since the wood wouldn’t yet be on fire. Still, doubt remained. Orion had already shown signs of negating their bargain. Only moments ago he had refused her request to be led only by Captain Reed, which allowed her to reciprocate by holding back information about Cassabrie, at least for now. She had promised to reveal everything while at the stake, which was enough for him to rescind the gag order. At least his desire to hear about Cassabrie would force him to allow her s
peech to finish.
She turned to Captain Reed, a broad-shouldered man with a slim waist and a graying beard, and looked at his hands, both clutching the chain so tightly, his knuckles had turned white. A wedding band adorned his left ring finger, and two red squares and one blue square had been stitched onto his uniform’s cuff, a sign to anyone who might find his body on the battlefield that he had two daughters and a son to care for at home. Every region in the kingdom used the same system, though sometimes the colors differed.
Shifting her gaze to his face, she studied his expression—solemn, anxious. Orion likely held one or more of these children captive.
“What are their names?” she whispered.
He responded in a low voice. “Whose names?”
“Your son and two daughters.” She nodded at his sleeve.
“Oh, yes.” As he traced the outline of one of the squares, his jaw quivered slightly. “I prefer not to discuss them at this time.”
She studied his finger. The tip continued tracing the red square closest to his wrist, not deviating to the other patches. She leaned closer and spoke in the barest of whispers. “I can help you get her back.”
Captain Reed gave her a quizzical stare, but just as he pursed his lips to reply, Maelstrom barked, “The signal is given. Let’s send this witch to the hell she deserves.” He marched ahead, pulling on the chain and jerking Marcelle along.
She looked back. Captain Reed, still holding one of her chains, kept pace, blinking at her. She signaled with her head to come closer. As he neared, she whispered, “Stay close after he ties me to the stake.”
“Silence!” Maelstrom bellowed, jerking the chain again. “You will have your opportunity to say your last words in a moment.”
Marcelle followed Maelstrom out the rear exit, now unguarded. Where was Gregor? Had he escaped the Tark guards? If so, might he and Father and Dunwoody be carrying out the plan? With Orion inspecting the pyre so carefully, they might not have had a chance to hide the sword in the wood.