by Bryan Davis
“I don’t know, Erin.” Elyssa stooped in front of her. “Can you help me get everyone organized? We should leave right away.”
The girl turned toward the other children. “Some might trust you, but not all will. Whenever we try to escape, someone gets cooked. Thad burned just yesterday.”
A boy writhing in flames pierced Elyssa’s thoughts, but she quickly pushed the image out. Crying again wouldn’t help. “Don’t they all have to come? If any stay behind, won’t they risk getting the same punishment Thad received?”
Erin nodded. “But I’ve been thinking about it. I have a plan.”
Suppressing a grin, Elyssa looked the girl in the eye. “What’s your plan?”
“Just follow me and watch.” Erin strode back to the group, her arms rigid at her sides.
Elyssa and Wallace followed several paces back, though still within earshot. When Erin rejoined the others, she pointed at the two would-be rescuers. “Since the dragons are busy,” Erin said, “we’re supposed to go with them to get food.”
One of the older boys eyed Wallace suspiciously. “Why does he have a sword?”
Erin shrugged. “The dragons are gone, so I guess he’s supposed to protect us.”
“Why did they tell you and not the rest of us?”
Tilting her head upward, she pointed at his nose. “Listen, you can stand here all day asking questions, but I’m going to get some food.” With that, she marched toward Wallace and Elyssa, using the same tight-armed gait, but a smile wrinkled her lips as she drew closer.
Behind her, the older boy waved his arm. “Come on. Let’s see what Dirt Squirt’s up to.”
As the children began to fall into line, a boy near the back pointed at the sky and shouted, “Nancor is coming!”
Elyssa hissed at Wallace. “Quick! Hide your sword! I’ll see what I can do to confuse him.”
While she opened her hand, a big dragon closed in, his wings beating fiercely as he slowed his body for landing. Adding a roar to the whipping wind, he touched down and trotted to a stop. “Who are you?” he shouted.
The children backed away from Elyssa and Wallace, staring with wary eyes. While Wallace held the sword behind his back, Elyssa stalked straight to the dragon and held the sphere close to his snout. “I am Elyssa. We have never met before.”
Nancor blinked several times. “Why are you showing me that shining stone?”
She fought the influence. It was strong, but she had to win. “It’s a gem of some kind. I heard dragons crave them, so I thought you might like to see it.”
As Elyssa waved her hand back and forth, Nancor’s head swayed with it, and his voice slowed. “It is an odd specimen.”
She glanced back at Wallace. He crept toward the dragon, the sword still hidden behind his back. This time he had figured out her plan without hearing all the steps, but would it work? Dizziness flooded her senses. She couldn’t keep the sphere exposed much longer, but she had to make sure he was fully hypnotized.
“Yes, it is rare, I think.” Elyssa took another step closer. “Tell me, how many children have you killed while on guard here?”
“I have not counted. They are vermin. Not worthy of the time it would take to keep track.”
“Can you guess?”
“Perhaps twelve. Usually the weakest ones. They would die anyway.”
Now within breathing distance of the dragon’s nostrils, she spoke in a chant-like cadence. “Keep looking, dragon. Drink in its beauty. Absorb its energy.”
Nancor stared at the sphere, his eyes completely glazed over, but he said nothing.
“I think he’s ready.” Backing away slowly, Elyssa looked at Wallace. “If I leave with the sphere, he might snap out of it.”
“Well, I can’t hold that thing.”
“Let’s try this.” She set the sphere on the ground. The moment it touched, it began to sizzle and throw off sparks.
“Uh, oh.” Wallace waved an arm. “Get out! Quick! He’s blinking.”
She turned and bolted toward the children, staggering as she ran. She set a hand on the two closest shoulders and whisper shouted, “Come! Everyone! Now!”
As she herded them toward the hole in the wall, she listened for Wallace but heard nothing. She resisted the urge to look back. Maybe he was delaying as long as he could to make sure everyone got out safely before he risked a stab. If he merely awakened the dragon from his stupor and couldn’t deliver a fatal blow, this escape attempt would end before they reached the wall. Then again, maybe the dragon had killed him.
When they arrived at the wall, she stooped next to the hole. “Erin, be brave and go first. I’ll come through last.”
“I think going last is braver.” Erin dropped to all fours and scooted through the opening. Then the others followed in single file. Elyssa stayed in her crouch, urging each child to scamper in as quickly as possible. Most scooted along the dry soil without a sound. A few of the youngest children cried, but they responded to Elyssa’s soothing words.
Finally, after the last child crawled through, Elyssa stood and allowed herself a glance toward the stream. Wallace ran toward her, his sword drawn. When he arrived, he showed her the blood-stained blade. “That’s one dragon who won’t be bothering children anymore.”
She gazed toward the stream. A dark lump marred the otherwise flat terrain. It seemed odd to feel remorse over the death of a murderous slaver, but the feeling swept through her all the same. This rescue mission had now become a bloody, life-and-death reality.
“Go ahead.” Wallace nodded at the hole. “We can’t keep them waiting.”
Her arms trembling, Elyssa elbow-crawled through the hole again. When she emerged on the other side, one of the bigger boys grabbed her wrist and helped her rise.
“Thank you.” She motioned for everyone to huddle low. Putting on a confident expression, she whispered, “Everyone must stay quiet. Nancor won’t bother us, but the other dragons still might.”
She looked back at the hole. Still no Wallace. While she brushed her elbows clean, she made a quick count of the cattle children. With their wide eyes staring at the trees, their bare skin exposed to potentially prying eyes from above, and their emaciated frames painting the portrait of starved war refugees, they seemed more pitiful than ever.
When she finished counting, she mumbled the total. “Forty-one.” How could they get this many children to the wilderness without being seen? And what if the younger ones made too much noise?
Wallace emerged from the hole and skulked to their huddle. “So far, so good.”
“What took you so long?” Elyssa asked.
He lifted a key, pinched between his thumb and finger. “I went back and found this. Nancor had it embedded between two scales.”
She glanced at the dozens of emaciated bodies surrounding her. “The bin?” she whispered.
“That’s what I’m hoping, but we can’t have a riot. Take them to the forest while I see if this works.”
Elyssa rose and, pressing a finger to her lips, spoke to the children in a hushed tone. “We’re leaving this place now, but we have to be very quiet until we get where we’re going.”
A little girl, barely more than a toddler, held a hand against her belly. “Is there anything to eat there?”
Elyssa pushed her fingers through the girl’s tangled black hair, and glanced back at Wallace. He had unlocked the bin and thrown open the lid. “We will eat soon. I promise.” Then, taking the girl’s hand, she bent over and walked into the undergrowth, wading through thick heather and ducking under low branches. She glanced behind her from time to time to check on the rest of her newfound brood. Although exposed to the prickly branches, they pushed through the obstacles, apparently ignoring the minor scratches.
When she found a clearing that was relatively well-covered by the trees above, she sat and motioned for everyone to gather as close as possible. Sometimes scanning the sky for dragons and sometimes gazing into the eyes of the children, she waited. A sense of calm prevaile
d. The children seemed more awed than anxious. The closest two girls, both about five years old, petted Elyssa’s long sleeves while trying to catch her attention with their big brown eyes.
After another minute, Wallace, once again shirtless, bustled into the clearing, his shirt bulging in his hands. He let his stare pass from child to child, his one eye looking like an oracle of doom. “Only the quiet ones will be able to eat,” he said in a dread tone as he passed around what looked like stale hunks of bread.
As each child grabbed a two-fisted helping, the bread flew to his or her mouth. Soon a chorus of eager chewing filled the air.
“So,” Wallace said as he handed a smaller morsel to Elyssa, “I assume you have a plan.” He added a smile. “You’re the queen of skipping steps, right? So you’ve probably already led them to safety in your mind by now.”
“Maybe.” She pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged them close. Wallace hadn’t emphasized the word, but queen stood out all the same. Yet, since it wasn’t directed at her forsaken pride, it didn’t hurt this time. To this point she had been the queen of plans, the solver of puzzles. Sure, a dozen ways to parade these children through the forest without being seen had crossed her mind, but each one had ended in a dark fog. With no knowledge of the land or how the children might react to the circumstances, how could she have an idea how to proceed?
Allowing a smile to emerge, she gazed at Wallace’s sincere face. It would be better to let the warrior lead the way. “I think you should do the planning.”
Wallace drew his head back. “Again?”
“It worked out last time.” Elyssa took a bite of her bread. Yes, it was stale, but it tasted like a royal feast.
“Well …” Wallace looked back toward the food bin, then deeper into the forest. Splaying his hands, he showed them to Elyssa. “I’ll take ten at a time along with a load of food. That should be a small enough group to keep from being seen. Two will be older boys, two others will be a pair of the youngest children. While you wait here, we’ll go as fast as we can into the wilderness. I’ll carry the smallest all the way, and the older boys will help the others if they get tired. When we find a safe place, I’ll come back for another ten and more food.”
“Wallace,” Elyssa said, grasping his forearm, “that’s a great plan.”
“Thank you. Do you see any holes in it?”
“Only if one of us gets caught, but who can predict that?”
As a shadow passed over, they both looked up at the sky. A trio of dragons flew in a triangular pattern, apparently heading toward the village.
Wallace lowered his voice further. “They might be bringing the search closer to home.”
“If we take too long, can you find your way to the wilderness in the dark?” she asked.
“Probably. The elders say the forest in that area is more dangerous at night, but we can manage.”
“If the children don’t get frightened.”
Wallace looked at the huddled group as they continued to gnaw at their bread, apparently oblivious to their wretched states. He let out a long sigh. “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that.”
She followed his line of sight and found one of the older boys. Turned to the side, his profile cut a sharp portrait of pain. A burn scar covered most of his head, leaving only tufts of hair near the top; reddish stripes lined his frame from bony shoulder to hip; and a scar dug a gouge out of his cheek. From fire, to whip, to claw, this boy had suffered every blow a dragon could deliver. How could he now be frightened of an escape from his cruel captors, no matter how dark the night?
Elyssa slid her hand into Wallace’s and pulled it close. “I’m not worried. We’ll get them there, one way or another.”
“So now that I’ve seen this star,” Jason said, “what am I supposed to do?”
Cassabrie replied in a more somber tone than usual. Discern. Understand. What you learn here could well be the difference between success and failure, between life and death.
He scratched his wrist. The itch was spreading. “But what is there to learn? These pictures are too fast, and the whispers fly by before I can figure out what they’re saying.”
That mystery remains for you to unravel. If you fail, then you will be safe here until it is time to send you home to your world, but you will not play a role in the emancipation of your people.
He laid a hand over his eyes. “Okay, okay, let me think.” As darkness flooded his vision, thoughts roared through his mind, every bit as quickly as the images flashed on the heart of the star. The planet—Starlight, a world of tyranny and woe. Storytellers—Starlighters, able to replay the tales of the past, whether seen or unseen. This pulsing sphere—Exodus, sending out streams of whispered thoughts in radiant energy that filled Cassabrie with power.
This place, deep in the heart of the planet, housed the source of power—the star that gave light to the storyteller, the whispers that became tales, the energy that poured out in passion, as if the planet itself cried for its tragic story to be heard.
Jason opened his eyes. “It’s weeping,” he whispered. “It’s calling for someone to …” He closed his eyes again and listened to the whispers. Now breathy words filtered in, each one striped with sorrow.
“Will this toil never end?”
“Freedom is a hopeless dream.”
“The disease is incurable.”
“Our chains will never be broken.”
As hundreds of grief-stricken cries swirled in his mind, heat spread across Jason’s skin. A tear dampened his cheek. Clenching a fist, he reopened his eyes and stared straight at the star. “Exodus is calling for someone to destroy it.”
Jason! Cassabrie’s voice spiked. Are you sure?
A flood of words, some unbidden, spilled from mind to lips. “It is pure anguish. It was born of sorrows, and its purpose is to weep for an end to the grief and suffering that its own downfall has caused. It absorbs every tale this planet creates and sends them out again for Starlighters to hear and retell, but the Starlighters’ songs have not reached ears that were able to respond.” He took a deep breath before adding. “Until now.”
Cassabrie gasped. I don’t know what to say. I thought the king brought you here for another reason.
“Is something wrong?”
It’s just that … Her voice washed away.
“You’re wondering what will happen to you if your energy source is destroyed.”
A bare whisper replied, Yes.
As more whispers filtered in, new words formed on his lips. “That story has not yet been told. The future is a blank page.”
Then we don’t know what will happen to me.
Jason shook his head but said nothing.
So how will you destroy it?
“I suppose by doing what I was going to do anyway. Free the slaves. That should stop the sorrow.”
Then why did the king want you to see this?
“To let me know how much my actions might cost. Freedom for them might mean …”
Death for Koren.
He nodded. “And maybe for you.”
I’m already dead, Jason, but who can tell what will happen to my spirit? When Arxad captured my essence just before my body perished, it was by accident. The king told me what happens to a Starlighter in such a case. If not for the Reflections Crystal, my spirit would have been trapped between worlds, a wandering ghost, unable to communicate in this realm and unable to enter the Creator’s glory.
“For how long?”
Eternity, I think. Cassabrie broke into a gentle lament. An eternity of separation from my Creator would be worse than a thousand deaths chained to the cooking stake.
“I have never heard of such an existence. It’s not mentioned in the Code.”
No, it’s not. But you have heard of the Netherworld.
“Of course. The place where rebels against the Creator perish forever.”
Is the torment of eternal loneliness any better?
“I suppose not.” Jason
looked at the heart of the star. It had twisted into a coil. “So that’s where you would go if Exodus is destroyed.”
I don’t know. As I said, this revelation is new to me. I thought the king brought you here so you could learn to be a Starlighter. He said one of the rescuers has similar gifts.
Jason nodded. “That would be Elyssa. Not me.”
Silence ensued for a moment, interrupted only by Cassabrie’s sighs. Now that I understand the king’s purpose, perhaps it’s time for me to come out. I need to reenergize.
“That’s good. I imagine you—”
Good? Cassabrie seemed surprised. Wasn’t my presence a benefit?
“It’s not that. I just got confused with your voice inside my head.”
Interesting. I thought you might react differently.
Jason almost said, “Don’t be offended,” but the words stuck in his throat. That would be stupid. She was already offended.
Since we have been together for so long, she said, my departure from your body might hurt quite a bit.
He straightened and flexed his muscles from his shoulders down. “I’m ready.”
As if infused with the outside air, an icy chill erupted within his chest and radiated outward. The glowing patch on his skin burned. Swallowing a scream, he tensed every muscle in his body. It seemed that a dagger blade of pure ice had plunged into his breast and embedded in his heart. The itching intensified, and the skin on his palm began to peel.
A ray of light poured from underneath his shirt, rising past his face and then flowing toward the floor, where it collected and shaped itself into a human form. Consisting of pure radiance and taking on the curves of a young woman, she seemed fragile, as if a touch would shatter her visage into a thousand pieces.
The frigid sensation tempered. Jason relaxed and let his shoulders droop. He scratched away loose skin on his palm but more remained.
“I survived another infusion.” With her hands folded at her waist, Cassabrie smiled meekly. “I am glad of that.”
