Zurgon glared at her then chose to ignore the remark. “According to legend, these creatures live high above the clouds. Lost arrows don’t fly as high as a Tramontain can." He narrowed his eyes at her. "As you can. Arrows are useless,” he concluded with a snort.
“Maybe we all can use myst.” Pearl seemed to glow at the possibility she’d just voiced. “My mother told me Golden Dragons spawned in volcanoes and lived in lava until they grew too large. She said the adults lived in the core of the sun.”
“The book said that the beasts had been known to inhabit some of the active Versuvian volcanoes,” Nimri said. Pearl’s head bobbed like a chicken. “And GEA-4 lived on the sun’s power.”
“Legend says that an overpopulation of the Goldens depleted the sun and it exploded,” Pearl said.
“Our ancestors viewed the creatures as a nuisance.” Zurgon gave his wife a withering look.
“A nuisance?” Pearl gaped at her husband. “That’s what you call the demon creatures that killed our original world?”
Zurgon’s glare hardened. “Your mother’s tales were worthless stories told to entertain a child.” His chin thrust out and Pearl frowned back. “History tells me that the beasts couldn’t differentiate between a reactor core and a volcano. Do you understand what I’m telling you? There are no reactors nor volcanoes on this world.”
Nimri ran her dry tongue over her lips. “I don’t know what those things are, but I saw this one—it wanted my life-energy.”
“You had a bad dream.” Zurgon patted her shoulder. Nimri resented being treated like a silly child. Judging by Pearl’s tight-lipped expression, she did, as well. “The Star Bridge was closed a millennium ago. No one can get through.”
How did he know? Hearsay? Why was hearsay good when he wanted it so, but not when it inconveniently disputed his beliefs?
“Did anyone go back to check?” Nimri demanded. “Believe me, The Star Bridge is open. Larwin and GEA-4 entered through it from the Old World.”
“Go home.” Zurgon gave an elaborate yawn meant to intimidate more than show fatigue. “Go to bed. This time, don’t dream.”
Pearl edged in front of Zurgon, her rigid back to her husband. “Generations ago, my mother’s family lived near the Versuvian volcanoes. She used to tell me a story called a Golden Dragon. Have you heard it?”
Nimri shook her head and despite the tension felt a hint of pleasure when she noticed Zurgon’s mouth tighten. For the first time in her life, Nimri decided she might enjoy one of Pearl’s interminable tales.
“An injured dragon returned to the lava core where it was born, but it was too large to enter and replenish its powers. It went into a fit of rage and began to tear the land.”
“How did it get hurt?” Nimri asked.
Pearl ignored her question and started whirling around the foyer, hands and feet slashing at the shadows, as she imitated the hurt beast. “Its jaws and claws ripped great gouges.” Pearl knocked a feather-wreath from the wall. As feathers splattered over the floor, she stopped, blushed and turned to Nimri. “My mother never said, but I always thought it was trying to enlarge the core, so it could get in.”
Zurgon grabbed Pearl, immobilizing her arms before she could start slashing, again. “Pearl, we don’t need your mother’s fairytales. The Star Bridge is not open. Nimri had a bad dream.”
Pearl twisted in his grip and looked ready to kick him in the shin. “Fairytales are based on historical fact, just like your stories. You can’t condemn my mother’s when you accept your own family legends.” She placed her hands against Zurgon’s chest, and gave a push. “Either be quiet and listen or go back to bed.”
After giving her a withering look, Zurgon turned on his heel, stomped into the adjoining sitting room and sat on a chair, which was shrouded in shadows.
“As I was saying,” Pearl said, “the dragon was destroying the land. The volcano was on a small island in the middle of a great ocean. When the dragon returned to its home or nest or whatever the volcano was.” She gestured helplessly, as if confused.
“How big was the dragon?” Nimri asked.
“Bigger than any living creature. Longer than the river is wide.” Pearl’s glance darted to the seating area. “Let me tell the story before my husband grinds his teeth to dust.” Nimri nodded. Pearl took a deep breath and began, “On the island lived a young man named Zeb. He came home and saw the beast ripping and blistering the ground.” Pearl again acted out the dragon’s movements, but this time, her gestures weren’t as violent. “His home was gone. Vanished, along with his wife. The destruction was so bad, he wasn’t sure where his home had even stood. Zeb vowed to kill the dragon, or die trying.”
Nimri couldn’t stand the sudden silence. “Did he succeed?”
Pearl grinned. “Zeb had grown up on the island, he had watched young dragons all his life because it was a favorite spawning place. He knew they avoided water. As he watched this dragon rampage, he noticed it never went near the shore. I don’t know how he came up with his plan, but he found a way to turn on irrigation valves to spray it.” She winked.
Nimri blinked. “What are irrigation valves?”
“Hollowed canes that move liquids to far away places,” Zurgon growled from the shadows.
Pearl nodded and smiled. “Zeb sprayed the beast, and it is said the dragon’s bellow was heard on all the islands of Solterre. In its haste to flee the irrigation, the dragon fell from the volcano’s side and landed on its back with its head in the ocean.”
“And?” Nimri demanded. “What happened then?”
“Why, it died of course. The water killed it.”
Zurgon got up and stalked back into the foyer’s light. “It’s an interesting fairytale, but Nimri doesn’t need to think about this. She needs a good dreamless sleep.”
“It isn’t a fairytale,” Pearl said. “Zeb was one of my ancestors. His story has been handed down generation to generation.” She gave Nimri a superior look. “Spray it with water.”
“Pearl!” Zurgon said.
Pearl gave Nimri another meaningful look then, head high, she retreated up the stairway.
“You’ll have to forgive my wife, she loves fairytales.”
Nimri raised a brow. “Don’t you believe her?”
“No. Phelim Chasen, the Chosen's founder was my ancestor.” Zurgon straightened his spine and raised his chin. “I know myst emitters repelled the beasts. You are our myst emitter.”
“So, it’s all up to me.” Nimri felt as if the entire weight of the world was balanced on her spine. And she couldn’t hold the load. There had to be help somewhere. “Dracon Lamhfada took several written records with him to the other side of the river. Do you think those books still exist? Do you think they’d have any helpful knowledge?”
“It’s possible, but it makes no difference. Even if you understand the symbols, as you suggest, you can’t go there. You know the law.”
“Surely, an exception can be made,” Nimri said.
“The law was made to make people think before making a rash decision.”
“I’d be trying to save everyone.”
Zurgon gave her a withering look. He really believed her panic was spawned by a dream, but if it had only been a dream, why could she see smoke, when she awoke? She glanced toward the summit, but it was shrouded by trees. “Whoever crosses the river will never be allowed to walk on Chosen soil, again. The reason for the crossing matters not.”
Nimri’s hand clenched. “Why must the Lost have more freedom?” Zurgon stared at her as if she’d lost her mind. “What if I could find a way to satisfy the law?” Nimri asked, even though she knew that if that was possible, it would have been done centuries ago.
He smiled at her question as if she was an amusing baby. “In a millennium, no one who crossed has managed to return without swimming or by boat. If you believe you can find a way to return by another means, then go.” His expression hardened. “However, if you go, I’ll see to it that you’re considered to be a Los
t one. You will be allowed on this side of the river on Market Day. Only on Market Day. Is that clear?”
Unable to speak, Nimri nodded.
Pearl’s voice drifted out of the stairway. “Why don’t you send a message to Thunder Cartwright? Have him come here.”
Nimri sighed. “He’s probably too old to travel and there isn’t enough time. And don’t tell me that it was only a dream.” She glared at Zurgon. “Yes, I saw the beast in a dream, but it wasn’t the normal kind of dream, it was the sort that-“Her voice trailed off, as she acknowledged her inability to explain the difference.
Zurgon snorted and began to walk away.
In total rejection, she turned. Feet dragging, she moved toward the door. As she let herself out, she saw Zurgon striding toward the stairs.
Once outside, Nimri stared into the darkness and wondered if there was any hope.
Feeling the heaviness of failure in every step, she trudged toward the upland trail. As she approached the crossing, she heard furtive footfalls.
After the emotional bruising she’d taken from Zurgon, Nimri didn’t want to speak to anyone else. She ducked behind a tall clump of ferns, then squinted through the darkness to see who else was up at this time of night.
The fern’s shadows danced over her, making the approaching person look like one of the Lost. The man’s posture seemed dejected as he tramped down the trail, heading toward the dock. As he passed within a forearm’s length of her hiding place, she recognized the long fringes on the coat of Tansy’s would-be abductor. Nimri stepped into the pathway and demanded, “What are you doing here? It’s not Market Day.”
The man jerked. His movements indicated an internal war between running and staying. Staying won.
“I needed information,” he said, belligerently.
“You’re coming from Lily and Sandor’s home. Did you try to abduct Tansy, again?”
Hands fisted at his sides, he took a step toward her. It was all Nimri could do not to sink back into hiding. “I did not take her against her will.”
The liar. “I saw you. I heard her scream. You tried to force her into your boat.” He was one Lost she’d always remember and distrust
“I did not use force.”
“She fought you. You pushed her off the dock. You nearly killed her.” Nimri felt her hands fist and almost wished he’d punch her, so she’d have an excuse to claw his face.
He shook his head. “She fell.” Just as the moon peeked from behind a cloud, his hostile attitude seemed to melt and his face twisted with regret. “We love each other.” His tone and expression sounded sincere. Nimri blinked. “I would never hurt her.”
Nimri hoped he couldn’t see her shock and confusion. “She loves you? How? When?” Did Lily or Bryta know?
“We can only see each other on Market Day,” he continued. “We’ve wanted to become cherished partners for months, but the law makes it impossible for me to stay on this side.” His eyes looked misty and his tone sounded like frustration mixed with despair. After having just left Zurgon, Nimri identified with him. “We decided the only way we could be together was for her to come with me.” He straightened his back and looked her straight in the eye. “And that’s what we were doing.” He dropped his gaze to the ground and his shoulders sagged.
Nimri thought he might actually start crying and wondered if this was some crazy story to cover a worse truth. “So tonight, you crept over in the darkness to—what?”
“To find out the truth. Since the accident, all I’ve heard are rumors.” He cleared his throat. “One says she died when she fell into the water.” Nimri nodded. “The other says that though she died, the powerful fighter breathed his life into her.” His voice cracked with pain.
“That’s true.”
“I haven’t been able to sleep, eat...” His voice cracked with emotion. Nimri started to believe his story. “I was so afraid that I’d lost her.”
“You risked your life simply to see Tansy?”
He nodded. “Are you going to tell the Elders?” he asked with resignation.
A cloud crossed the moon. Insane though his version was, Nimri felt certain he had told her the truth as he saw it. He was also providing her with an opportunity to secretly cross the river. “I will not mention this to the Elders if you do something for me.”
He tensed. “What?”
“I must talk with Cartwright. Take me across the river and show me where to find him.”
“Cartwright?” Fear tinged his tone.
“If you take me, I’ll speak to Tansy. If she confirms your story and wants to be with you, I will do everything in my power to help.” Nimri held out her hand. “Agreed?”
After the briefest hesitation, the man thrust out his hand and clasped her wrist, in the time-honored Chosen signal of an unbreakable contract. Nimri didn’t know if she was excited at her daring, was fearful of the outcome of her adventure or if embarking with a Lost was the stupidest thing she’d ever considered.
Chapter Fifteen
The madrox slammed its tail into a pile of debris. Glowing red dust boiled past the crevice where Larwin had taken cover. His only option was the safety of the old cave, which provided air and food, plus had the benefit of being too small for the beast to enter. He hoped. Carefully, he plotted his course to reach the cave’s mouth and prayed to Kues that the beast would turn its attention elsewhere.
The madrox bellowed in rage, then its eerie, iridescent tongue crackled forth like demonic blue lightening.
The chamber groaned. Dust showered down from the high domed ceiling. Within a moment, Larwin couldn’t see through the haze. He hoped the beast couldn’t see, either. Knowing that this was probably the best chance he’d get, Larwin sprinted from his sanctuary, counting his strides. At fourteen, he slowed, put out his hands and felt for the wall.
The madrox roared so close and loud that Larwin’s head rang from the sound. The beast sensed movement. Hopefully the dust blinded it, too. Larwin hurried toward what he prayed would provide safety.
Four paces later, he tripped over something and sprawled face-first onto the hard dusty rock floor.
He tried to hop back up, but something heavy trapped his foot.
The earth shuddered.
Larwin moved his hands to his boot and felt for the obstruction. Rough, unyielding contours were detectable through his thick gloves. Again, the floor vibrated, as the beast took another lumbering step forward. The thing imprisoning his boot seemed cone-shaped and smooth, yet the larger end felt rough and gouged by a jagged crevice. He remembered having seen a fallen stalactite inside the cave.
He’d made it.
Maybe.
The madrox’s tongue slashed above him, attracting the dust as if it was magnetized. When the tongue receded, the view cleared. Mere yards from him, the madrox’s fiery red eye peered into the opening. Larwin lay petrified, half-hidden behind the ensnaring stalactite; not even daring to breathe. Then, the madrox moved back. Its blue tongue shot forward, mere feet over him. When it retracted, the membrane was purple with dust. The beast snorted. It tilted its head until one eye again filled the opening. Larwin stared back.
Breathing at a standstill, Larwin infinitesimally twisted his ankle. He felt the pressure from the stalactite slacken.
The madrox screamed. Again, blue lightning flashed over him. Incredible heat radiated through his suit as the forked tongue hovered mere centimeters above him.
Larwin didn’t know which of the beast’s senses was stronger, but he suspected movement dominated, so though his lungs cried for oxygen, he didn’t breathe or blink until the tongue receded.
The dragon made a rumbling sound. This time, the unblinking crimson orb remained focused on Larwin, but it made no effort to attack. Was it delaying until he made a mistake like blinking?
The sweat in his suit accumulated until Larwin worried he might drown before the predator’s contest ended. His body needed air so badly that he worried he would either collapse and be eaten after an invo
luntary gasp. Slowly, carefully, he drew a minuscule bit of air into his starved lungs. It was enough to fend off blacking out, but not for much else. With a killer like that watching, blacking out would be the last thing he would ever do.
After many infinitesimal breaths and what seemed like forever, the beast turned away. This time, Larwin remained still as the stalactite, which partially protected him. For the first time in an hour, he dared to hope that he would reach safety.
The beast whirled and turned back to the crevasse. Its eye lingered at the opening for what felt like eternity, then it made a snorting sound and moved across the doomed chamber. As it got farther away, Larwin realized the cave opening was smaller than one of the beast’s eyes. He suspected that if it had been larger, the beast would have been able so see exactly where to test with its tongue.
He waited, continuing to take tiny breaths. He’d seen how quickly the beast could spin and snap and sensed that was one of the predator’s tricks.
When the beast reached the far side of the cavern, its scaly tail still curved against the nearby wall and the top of its head grazed the doomed ceiling. It began to circle around the outer wall. Was it trying to find the way out? Larwin prayed to Kues for deliverance. The tip of an opalescent wing scraped past the cave. How had the monster squeezed through the narrow tunnel? Was it as trapped as he was?
Once the scaly tail swept past the aperture, Larwin quickly freed his boot, staggered to his feet and hobbled toward the rope.
The madrox roared. The ground shook as it tried to spin around in the too-tight chamber.
The walls around Larwin glowed red and the back of his spacesuit heated. Larwin sprinted in an uneven gait to the rope and climbed as fast as his arms could propel him to the safety of the pretty trees.
The azure tongue snapped beneath him and an inferno of heat surged upward. The rope blazed, sending flames with the scorching heat. Larwin threw himself onto the mossy ground at the feet of the stone statues. For a moment, fire blazed in the mouth between the statues, then it fell back into the cave.
Star Bridge (Chaterre Trilogy Book 1) Page 21