Diviner Page 6

  “I was hoping you’d say that,” she said as she shifted her grip to his hand. “Lead the way, warrior.”

  Extending an arm to feel for obstacles, he walked toward the sounds of draconic breathing. Elyssa kept a grip on his hand, looser now. A dim light appeared in the distance, revealing their surroundings—a high, wide tunnel, encompassed by rocky walls and ceiling. Ahead and to the right, a flickering glow emerged from a gaping hole at one side, casting a shaft of light against the opposite wall.

  “I will …” The dragon’s voice choked for a moment before continuing. “I will appeal to my people, try to break through to their sense of reason. We will rise up against this dark pretender, this scourge from the black egg. He cannot withstand a united front.”

  Jason halted at the opening and sneaked a look around the edge. A dragon sat in the center of a relatively small room, her head low at the end of her drooping neck. A woman dressed in a long skirt and apron held a lantern while stroking the dragon’s flank. “How can you rise up?” the woman asked. “Will they listen to a female without the affirmation of Arxad or Magnar?”

  “I will appeal to Tamminy. He has long voiced his concern. He will affirm my plan. Magnar ignores him, but many dragons still respect his views.”

  The woman’s voice lowered, barely audible. “Mistress Fellina, Tamminy is missing as well.”

  “Missing?” Fellina’s head tilted to the side. “Explain.”

  “Only an hour ago his cave keeper told me of his absence. No one has heard from him in quite some time.”

  As Fellina’s neck sagged lower, her chin touched the floor. “The night gets ever darker, Madam Orley. In this world of cowards, it seems that every courageous male has abdicated his protective station. Where can we find someone who is bold enough to rally our cause, a masculine voice who can break through the callused ears of those too foolish to heed the words of a wise female?”

  Elyssa gave Jason a nudge. “If you want a better cue, you will have to come up with it yourself.”

  “Right. But that doesn’t make it any easier.” After swallowing through his tightened throat, Jason strode in, steeling his body to keep from trembling. With a hand on the hilt of his sword, he planted his feet in front of Fellina. “I’ll be that voice.”

  Fellina lifted her neck and drew her head back, blinking. “Who are you?”

  “Jason Masters.” He gave her a quick bow. “I am from Darksphere. I have come to liberate the slaves. You said you needed a masculine voice to break through, so I thought —”

  “You thought?” Fellina glanced at Madam Orley before returning her gaze to Jason. “Are you suggesting that my stubborn dragon friends will respect you, a human, more than they would respect me, one of their own kind?”

  “Well …” Jason shifted his weight from foot to foot. “When you put it that way …”

  “And if you think you can free your people with that primitive weapon, you are as foolish as you are bold. Before you could bare the blade, any dragon could roast you where you stand.”

  “There are more of us,” Jason said, bowing again. “And I don’t expect that we could do it with only humans. Like you said, with a united front, humans and dragons who are friendly to our cause, we can do whatever needs to be done. But first, I need to find my —”

  “Our cause?” Fellina repeated. “And what exactly would our cause be?”

  Jason spread out his arms. “To free the slaves, of course.”

  She snorted. “You are as ignorant as the rest. You think freeing the slaves is the ultimate purpose, but you are too shortsighted to see the larger picture.”

  “I’ll be glad to hear about the picture, but first, I need to find my father. A dragon captured him. Do you know where they might have taken him?”

  Fellina looked again at Madam Orley. “The mill?”

  She nodded. “Since we are in lockdown, most likely.”

  “Summon Xenith and ask her to meet me at the cave entrance. I will speak to these humans in private.”

  “As you wish.” Madam Orley gave a shallow bow and scurried from the room.

  As Fellina extended her neck, her head glided to within inches of Jason’s face. “I am sympathetic. Losing a father is a tragic event. Yet this is also a lesson as to how easily your numbers will be trimmed. You would need a thousand seasoned warriors if you hope to liberate the slaves.”

  Jason firmed his jaw. Breathing deeply, he tried to keep his voice calm. “If you will just tell me how to get to this mill you’re talking about, when I return with my father, we can talk about the larger picture. He is a brilliant soldier and a cunning strategist. If we work together, we can find a solution.”

  “Perhaps,” Fellina said, “but you make it sound as if rescuing your father from the mill is as easy as lighting a torch. The pair of dragons who operate the mill are the wickedest sisters you will ever meet. They enjoy grinding the flesh and bones of humans, and they have firepower equal to most of the male warriors. It will require much more than cunning to rescue your father.”

  “Ahem.” Elyssa stepped out of the shadows and slid her hand around Jason’s arm. She pulled him close to her side and spoke with passion. “Against all odds, this warrior rescued me from a dungeon. He traveled to the Northlands, marched into the bowels of Starlight, and scooped a handful of fire from Exodus in order to heal his father. He even rescued Koren the Starlighter from the cooking stake while Magnar himself stood guard. He has cunning, to be sure, but his real weapons are his courage, his resolve, and his love.”

  Fellina glanced between them, her eyes wide and searching. After a few seconds, she drew her head back and nodded. “We will take you to the mill.”

  Koren stood still, in spite of the biting cold. As Taushin’s blue beams penetrated her eyes, her legs felt stiff, immobile. It seemed that his control over her had strengthened, at least whenever he came close.

  “Did you see the hole in Exodus?” he asked.

  “Yes.” She stopped herself before saying more. For now, simply answering his question seemed to be the best strategy. It didn’t make sense to offer more information than he demanded.

  “Were you able to enter?”

  She nodded. “The hole stretched quite well.” She kept her voice flat. No need to mention Brinella and the pain she felt. Maybe Taushin didn’t think a Starlighter still lived within. After so many years, he probably assumed she had died.

  His head swayed from side to side, his eyebeams staying locked on her. “Did you try to seal the breach?”

  “Yes, but it didn’t work. The stardrop’s particles just dripped down the surface.”

  “Interesting.” Taushin’s beams intensified. “I perceive that you are telling the truth, but you are concealing something.”

  Shivering, Koren didn’t bother hiding a nervous swallow, though she kept her voice level. “I see no reason to deceive you. I came back, didn’t I? I could have hidden in the castle.”

  “As if the white dragon would let you stay.”

  While Taushin closed his eyes, apparently thinking, Koren breathed deeply, trying not to let the truth of his words scratch a new wound in her soul. It did seem that the lord of the castle didn’t want her around.

  Taushin touched her shoulder with a wing. “I will be more honest with you than you have been with me. While you were in the castle beyond the entry room, I could no longer see through your eyes, so I am unable to verify your story. Your return to me is, indeed, a sign of obedience, for which I applaud you.” The claw at the end of his wing slowly dug into her skin. “You see, even that relatively minor act of acquiescence has further bonded us. More than ever before, I am able to detect your trail. Every place you enter, I am able to follow. Even now I could track the steps you took inside that castle, feel what you felt, hear what you heard, smell what you smelled. If you ever try to free yourself from me, I will be able to learn what you have done and eventually find you. Do you understand?”

  Koren nodded once again, cringing a
t the sting in her shoulder. Any sudden movement, any sign of rebellion, could result in a cruel slash down her back.

  “Now,” Taushin continued, withdrawing the wing, “look up at the sky. Show me the land’s profile again.”

  Koren scanned the castle. The wide entrance lay open, as if inviting her to come in and warm her frozen fingers and toes, but the impression was a lie. She was an unwelcome intruder. She then shifted her gaze to the mountains behind the castle, guessing at the location of the hole out of which Exodus would have to rise.

  “At least now your decision is an easy one,” Taushin said. “If you cannot seal the wound, you will resurrect Exodus then exit after the slaves are liberated.”

  She continued sweeping her gaze across the mountaintops, stopping briefly at a snow-covered, truncated cone with a flat top. “How long do you think I’ll be in there?”

  “Impossible to determine. We will not know until you make the attempt. Guide Exodus to the South, and I will tell you what to do when you arrive.”

  “How will you get there?” Koren asked. “Since you’re blind without me, I mean.”

  “As I said, I can detect every place you have been, so I will follow your trail backwards as well as utilize other scent landmarks. The guardian dragons will guide me from the barrier wall, and once I arrive at the Basilica I will use Zena as my vision host. She will be adequate for the time being.”

  “I understand.” Koren imagined the staircase leading to the chamber. Of course she could go back to Exodus, but what would Brinella say? Would the original Starlighter even let her back in?

  She lowered her eyes to Taushin’s face again. His expression gave away worry, as if he wasn’t sure of his plan. A wave of sympathy rose in her heart. She lifted a hand to stroke his cheek but quickly jerked it back. No! He’s a cruel monster! Don’t let him have complete control.

  Taushin spread out his wings. “Let us proceed.”

  He lifted off and flew into the sky. Soon he became a black splotch in the midst of a beautiful blue canopy.

  Koren frowned at the sight. Taushin was the spill of a pen, an artist’s mistake. His wickedness made him the scourge of Starlight. For generations the dragons waited for him to rise to power, selfishly hoping for a paradise—no labors, no lack of pheterone, and no pesky humans to provide for.

  Letting out a sigh, she turned toward the castle. Yes, evil had awaited a greater evil, and now she had to do its bidding, or at least feign to do so. Taushin had left her here unguarded, trusting that the invisible chains she wore would keep her in line.

  And he was right. She wouldn’t leave. The mysteries here were too great to abandon, and the opportunity to free her fellow slaves would be her chains. If she could keep Exodus aloft long enough, maybe Taushin really would fulfill his promise. Wasn’t it worth a try? If only the slightest chance existed, shouldn’t she make the attempt? What harm could come?

  She looked again at the sky. Taushin was nowhere in sight. It felt so good to be away from him, relatively free from his influence. His hold on her had become too strong. She had very nearly shown him sympathy—that longing to touch him with tenderness had risen without a thought. Somehow she had to break loose. She had to avoid becoming a dark-hearted, fawning servant like Zena.

  As she imagined the dark-eyed sorceress, a violent shudder ran through her body. She would not become like her! She would die first.

  Koren scooped up some snow and quenched her thirst before facing the castle. With new determination firming her lips, she ascended the stairs leading to the entryway. Every step felt like walking on broken pottery. Obeying that monster grated her conscience. She would rather chew rocks, but the pain-streaked cries of her fellow slaves urged her onward.

  After entering, she headed straight for the stairway and began the descent toward the star chamber. Again the whisperers assaulted her ears.

  “How much gunpowder did you put in? We need enough to blow that scourge out of the sky.”

  “Arxad, when you teach the new generation, do not pass on the secrets of human weaponry. They need genetics and the principles of light. Nothing more.”

  “Beware. If you try to manufacture a Starlighter from the genetic code, the result could be disastrous. Allow the Creator to bring her to us at the right time.”

  Koren drank in the words. Now they seemed more coherent, as if they had aligned in order to grant her knowledge. Was this Brinella’s doing? Probably not. She didn’t seem to have much control over the messages she provided. The only other option seemed to be the white dragon, but how could he send messages to Exodus?

  When Koren arrived at the star chamber, she leaned over and massaged her legs. Could she take much more of this? Muscle cramps and fatigue might do her in before Taushin could.

  Inside the chamber, Brinella sat in her human form, her head hanging low. An aura surrounded her, dim but noticeable. Various colors flashed across her face, new tales building up within the imprisoned Starlighter.

  “I knew you would come back,” she said without looking up.

  Koren stepped over to the wound and spoke into it. “How did you know?”

  Brinella raised her head and aimed her stare through the hole. “I know stubbornness when I see it. You didn’t get what you wanted, so you have returned with a new scheme to obtain it.”

  “Maybe I’m stubborn,” Koren said, allowing her tone to grow firm, “but maybe someone else is, too. If you would just listen to me for a minute, I could —”

  “Listen to a sorceress?” Brinella straightened and crossed her arms over her chest. Indistinct images painted her face with splotches of green, purple, and red. “I should say not. If I learned anything from Alaph, it’s not to listen to a charmer’s guile.”

  Koren cringed. The label hurt, but how could she protest? She really was a charmer. Still, this girl must know she was one herself. It seemed that she held out bait for Koren to take, daring her to object.

  Lowering her voice to a whisper, Koren gave in, hoping her gentle tone would calm Brinella’s ire. “Why do you call me a charmer? Don’t your gifts charm people?”

  New colors, deeper and richer, turned Brinella’s face into a tapestry of royal splendor. “A charmer enthralls, hypnotizes, or distracts to get what she wants. I am a prophetess who draws people into a net of love in order to give them what they need.”

  “A net?” Koren imagined Taushin casting a net over her head and dragging her away. “That sounds like just another form of slavery.”

  “A Starlighter’s net draws those who already want to serve the Creator, but since they are enslaved to another master, a powerful force is necessary if they are to sever their bonds. The net bypasses all others—those who wish to stay enslaved. And there are many, though they may outwardly deny it, because it is easier to be led along by chains than it is to love and sacrifice in freedom.”

  Koren cast a furtive glance at her wrists. The manacle abrasions seemed darker once again, though it might have been because of the star’s brilliant light. For some reason, Brinella’s words stung, as if they were tiny arrows aimed at Koren’s heart. “Maybe I am in chains, Brinella, and maybe my garment proves it. If that’s so, shouldn’t you help me? I want to serve the Creator, so please listen to what’s happening outside this chamber. Maybe you can tell me what to do to sever my bonds, and I will gladly submit to the net.”

  Brinella kept her stare on Koren and gave her a slight nod. “Go on.”

  Backing away from the hole, Koren spread out her cloak and began her story. Although Brinella, a Starlighter who distributed these tales, likely knew many of the facts, she couldn’t know Koren’s interpretation of them. At least now she might understand.

  As Koren spoke, every character in her story appeared in the star chamber, fading into and out of existence as they were needed. In each scene, she played herself, taking on the pose of a slave during her labors and a prisoner during her captivity. Manacles appeared on her wrists, and chains weighed down her arms, feeling s
o real she could barely believe they were merely phantasms from her mind.

  Finally, when she replayed the scene in which Taushin tortured her with electric shocks, the pain again shot through her body, stiffening her limbs and arching her back. Koren wailed. The agony seemed as awful as reality, like hot claws digging through to her heart and scratching her soul out of her body.

  “I couldn’t escape!” Koren’s throat narrowed, pitching her voice higher as she lifted her chains and made the links jingle. “Taushin assaulted me with jolt after jolt, racking my body with unbearable pain. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t —”

  “Stop!”

  The sudden call jerked Koren out of her story. The pain eased. The chains and manacles faded away. As she shook out her stiff limbs, she turned toward the sphere and peered inside.

  Brinella rose to her feet. “Your tale rings true. This vivid picture of slavery surely pierced my heart. As a Starlighter, I often show people images of realities they cannot comprehend because they have never witnessed them, so I should have known that rendering judgment against you without witnessing your trials was too harsh. I apologize.”

  Koren bowed her head. “I accept without reservation. I understand your concern about my appearance and lack of knowledge.”

  “Perhaps you can learn from my mistake and show the slaves images of freedom so they can witness what living in liberty looks like. This could inspire them to do more to counter their oppressors than merely licking their whip wounds.”

  “What images?” Koren asked. “We’ve never been free.”

  “Well …” Brinella glanced up, hiding her green eyes for a moment. “You could draw from days long ago when humans roamed the planet free of chains, but that might not be very effective. The people of that time will be foreign to them—dressed in odd fashions, acting in odd ways. To the humans of today, the humans of yesterday will be a different species.”

  Koren tapped her chin with a finger. “But if I can show them the slaves who escaped to Darksphere —”