Liberator

by Bryan Davis

  Orion stood next to him, wrapped in a thick, ankle-length black cloak in spite of the warmer temperature on their side of the portal. “Any sign of Marcelle? Or anyone else, for that matter?”

  “We’ll see.” Edison sniffed the air. Although a variety of aromas entered his nostrils—oak, mold, and deer feces — no human scent blended in. Yet a relatively new odor drifted by, one recently learned. As he exhaled, he raised his sword. “I smell a dragon.”

  Orion swiveled toward the portal. “Should we run?”

  “Not yet.” Edison sniffed again. This time the odor of sweaty humans became evident, and rustling noises followed. “Soldiers are coming. I don’t think Magnar will show his face yet.”

  Soon a line of soldiers dressed in heavy coats, double-thick trousers, and leather boots tramped through the underbrush. Their faces reflecting both nervousness and resolve, they marched around the edges of the clearing and organized themselves in concentric circles, each with a scabbard strapped at his hip and a rectangular shield at his side.

  The leader, a middle-aged man with a graying beard, broad shoulders, and a slender waist, stopped in front of Edison and saluted with the traditional arm across the chest. He carried a canvas knapsack stitched with an officer’s insignia. “I am Captain Reed. I assume you are Edison Masters.”

  “I am.” Edison sheathed his sword and returned the salute. Turning his gaze back to the men, he raised an eyebrow as he took stock of the company’s weapons. “No photo guns?”

  “They are slow to reload and unpredictable in rapidly changing conditions. Whenever they’re around, soldiers tend to rely on them too heavily. I prefer that they rely only on muscles, minds, and blades.”

  “Well spoken.” Edison touched a sheathed dagger at his hip, then his sword at the opposite hip. “I prefer sharp metal to bursts of light anytime.” He took in a long draw of the moist air. “Prepare your men for battle. There is a powerful dragon hereabouts, and he could strike with a barrage of flames at any moment.”

  Captain Reed glanced up, as did many of the arriving soldiers. “If you are speaking of Magnar, you may be surprised to learn that he is acting as our ally. It would seem he wishes to topple a usurper on the dragon planet.” Captain Reed reached into his bag and withdrew a finger-length dragon spine. “He allowed us to carry out a mock battle with him so we could learn typical dragon maneuvers. One of my men became too aggressive and removed this spine from Magnar’s tail. He was furious, and I thought he would incinerate the soldier, but he quickly cooled and congratulated my man on an excellent attack.”

  “Very interesting.” Edison cocked his head. “How did you become friendly with him?”

  “The sword maiden Marcelle established the alliance.”

  “Where is she now?”

  Captain Reed nodded toward the sky. “Riding on Magnar’s back. I assume they’re flying close by and waiting to be sure the portal is open. She hasn’t told me her plans. She is a very mysterious young woman.”

  “Yes,” Orion said in a low tone, “we noticed. A chilling personality, to be sure.”

  Captain Reed returned the dragon spine to his bag. “Where is this portal Marcelle told me about?”

  Edison swept an arm toward the space behind him. “It’s invisible. Anyone who walks from here toward the other side of the clearing will find himself in another world.”

  “How intriguing!” The captain leaned to see around Edison. “Shall we go into this other world now? Many of us are quite ready to embark on a new adventure.”

  Edison scanned the troops. Standing shoulder to shoulder, at least eighty men had filled the clearing except for the center section where he and the captain stood. A long line of soldiers waited to join them, perhaps another three to four hundred. Their eyes, wide and wandering, didn’t confirm Captain Reed’s assertion. Many were young and scared, not nearly as hardened as their commanding officer.

  “Yes,” Edison said, “we can go now.” He stopped himself from saying more. As a former soldier himself, he had to stifle the instinct to tell Captain Reed all. He couldn’t risk diluting the effect of what Cassabrie had planned.

  “I will see if Cassabrie is ready for our arrival,” Orion said, turning toward the portal.

  “No!” The sound of dragon wings filled the air. Magnar swooped toward the ground, Marcelle riding low on his back. “Don’t let him go!” she shouted. “He’ll close the portal!”

  Orion leaped through and disappeared. Magnar and Marcelle darted after him. In a flash of light, they both vanished.

  Three

  Cassabrie hovered within Exodus ten feet above the ground and thirty feet in front of the portal. The characters and setting for her tale were ready, but how long could she keep everything in place? Edison hadn’t indicated the time of his return with any certainty.

  She reached into her pocket. The tube she had taken from the spear that had punctured Exodus lay at the bottom, along with its control box. The words on the tube’s scorched label still pulsed in her mind — Danger. Explosive.

  Cassabrie shuddered. The grim reality of her plan had never felt so close. Soon every man, woman, and child on Starlight would have an opportunity to get a taste of what the true purpose of a Starlighter was all about.

  Shaking off the thoughts, she scanned the area. To her left, a stream flowed through a pebbles-and-sand terrain. Bare-chested children followed the shoreline, carrying buckets filled with stones, while a dragon with a whip kept watch on her right. Red, bleeding welts striped the children’s backs, dirt smudged their cheeks, and gnats swarmed around their matted hair.

  When one of the smallest girls neared the dragon, she stumbled and fell. The dragon beat her mercilessly with his whip while the other children looked on, stoic, hopeless, as if they were watching the same tale they had seen a hundred times before.

  Although in reality, snow lay on the ground, Cassabrie had replaced it with arid landscape in order to simulate cattle-camp conditions, but removing the snow in the air presented a far more difficult challenge. No matter how effectively she might be able to mask the falling flakes, it would be nearly impossible to keep the soldiers from noticing snow accumulating on their heads and shoulders. At the very least, they would feel the cold wetness seeping through their clothing.

  Cassabrie waved her arms. The line of children retreated and began a new march from left to right, as they had done a dozen times already. She would allow the scene to replay again and again until the soldiers arrived, for any man who could witness this cruelty without feeling a passion to rescue these poor waifs didn’t have the heart they needed for the upcoming battle.

  After the tenth repetition, rain began mixing with the snow. Soon every flake disappeared, replaced by a cold drizzle that only served to make the destitute children seem that much more pathetic, though a close observer would notice that they did not get wet.

  Without warning, Orion lunged through the portal. He gave Cassabrie a quick glance, then stooped between a boulder and the line of crystalline pegs, a hand reaching toward the center one.

  “Wait!” Cassabrie shouted. “Did Edison tell you to close the portal?”

  Magnar burst through in full flight, his wings snapping out to propel him skyward. Behind him, Edison and a line of soldiers materialized out of thin air—ten, then twenty, then thirty, all marching in double-time past Orion. They blinked at the rain. Some held out open palms to feel the drops.

  “No more!” Orion jerked out the peg and tucked it under his cloak. The stream of soldiers ended abruptly. The arriving men, perhaps fifty in number, halted and stared at Cassabrie’s slavery scene, focusing on the children as they restarted their emotionless march.

  Above, Magnar flew over the treetops toward the white dragon’s castle. Although no one rode on his back, a scabbard hung from one of the protruding spines near the base of his neck, as if an invisible rider might snatch a sword from it and go to battle.

  As vapor rose with every drop that struck Exodus’s skin,
Cassabrie looked at Magnar and sighed. He wouldn’t come back, not as long as she was around. She wouldn’t even have a chance to calm his fears. And now that he was here, what would his entry into the Northlands spell for all of Starlight? Only time would tell.

  Orion held the peg over the boulder. “I will open the portal again,” he said as water dripped from his hair to his lips. “When I do, these men will go back immediately. I have rescinded the order to come here. If you refuse, I will break the crystal.”

  Edison glared at him through the misty air. “Then we will all be stranded here.”

  “There is another way to return,” Orion said, “but even if it is inaccessible, I will not allow —”

  “Orion!” Cassabrie called, spreading out her arms. “Hearken unto me!”

  He looked at her, blinking the water from his eyes. “Stay out of this, witch! I will not have you interfering with the affairs of the righteous.”

  “Do the righteous ignore the plight of tormented children?” She waved an arm toward her mirage. “They toil. They suffer. They bleed. If you send the soldiers home, who will set them free? Who will apply salve to their wounds? Who will be their liberator?”

  Orion tilted his head, watching the solemn parade of children passing by. When the girl stumbled, he flinched, and when the dragon lashed her with his whip, he fell to his knees and stared, the peg now loose in his hand.

  Edison and the other soldiers looked on as well, mesmerized. Finally, one man broke free from his daze and charged toward the phantom dragon with a drawn sword.

  Cassabrie fanned out her cloak. Making her characters respond would be difficult, but in their confused state, the men might be convinced, especially since her hypnotizing influence would make them want to believe.

  Breaking from his previous iterations, the dragon turned his scaly head and shot a blast of fire. The soldier, a young man barely past his teen years, dodged left and rushed forward, thrusting his sword into the dragon’s chest, where the blade plunged in easily. The dragon lurched to the side, his tail and claws twitching in spasmodic death throes.

  Stooping, the soldier held out his arms. The children ran to him, some kissing his face while others formed a circle around him, jumping and cheering.

  “Edison!” Cassabrie hissed. “Shake off the effect!”

  Edison gave her a boyish smile. “He saved the girl. Isn’t it wonder —”

  “Wake up!” Cassabrie drove Exodus forward, just enough to bump his shoulder with the outer membrane.

  Edison stumbled to the side but quickly regained his balance, blinking at her while rubbing his shoulder.

  “Take the peg,” Cassabrie whispered. “Open the portal.”

  As if awakened from slumber, he staggered toward Orion. Orion scrambled to his feet and, still holding the peg, jogged toward the forest, slipping and sliding along the way.

  Cassabrie twirled her cloak and sent her scene into oblivion. She had done what she could.

  Keeping his stare locked on the trees, Edison stopped his pursuit and waved a hand. “Captain Reed! Come here!”

  A bearded soldier shuffled his way, his legs unstable. “What’s happening here? I expected snow and ice and —”

  “I will try to explain in a moment. For now, we have to retrieve Orion and the peg or else the other soldiers won’t be able to join us.”

  “He will hide the crystal,” Cassabrie said. “It’s the only way he can maintain control.”

  Captain Reed raised a shielding hand, his face pale. “What kind of creature are you?”

  “I am the guiding angel of Starlight.” Cassabrie offered a graceful curtsy. “As the Creator’s messenger, I have been called to tell tales that will instruct mankind.”

  “Amazing!” After shaking his head to clear his fog, Captain Reed forked his fingers at two men. “You two, kindly retrieve the former governor.”

  While the soldiers marched away, Captain Reed kicked at the slush. “So why the unexpected climate change?”

  “Cassabrie?” Edison turned toward her. “Can you explain?”

  Pivoting in place, Cassabrie scanned the landscape. The river now ran freely, with only a few ice floes drifting in the current. Gaps in the valley’s white blanket appeared, revealing boulders and bare ground. Solarus hovered near the horizon, apparently ready to set.

  Cassabrie set a hand on her hip. In all her years traveling to and fro on Starlight, Solarus had never descended this low before in the Northlands. Something dramatic had happened, but neither Alaph nor Arxad had warned about this possibility. The change had begun while Edison and Orion waited for the troops to arrive, and a more sudden disruption occurred when Magnar flew out. Perhaps he was close to the portal during the times Edison opened it to check for the troops, thereby causing the earlier subtle changes.

  “I think Magnar broke the curse,” she said. “He wasn’t supposed to come here.”

  Captain Reed nodded. “Marcelle spoke of this curse but knew little about it.”

  “I care not to tell what I know,” Cassabrie said. “I see no need.”

  “Very well. What of the children we saw? Where are they now?”

  Cassabrie pushed Exodus closer. “They were part of an illusion. I created it to infuse you with the passion you will need to march into the dragons’ territory. Hearts aflame are essential if you wish to do battle with these monsters, so I hoped to inspire you with a portrait of the suffering taking place in the Southlands.”

  “We would not have come if our passions had not already been aroused,” the captain said, “but if we are unable to open the portal again, we will need all the passion we can muster to overcome the lack of soldiers.”

  Breathing a sigh of white vapor into the air, Edison scanned the gathered soldiers. With drizzling rain soaking their heavy clothes, their shoulders began to sag as they stared at him expectantly. He walked toward the star, blinking at its strengthening radiance. Looking Cassabrie in the eye, he whispered, “With so few men, do you think we stand a chance?”

  Cassabrie took in a deep breath. It seemed that a new stream of wisdom flowed into her mind, more than a tale—a principle, a maxim straight from the Creator. Replying in an equally soft tone, Cassabrie nodded. “A better chance than ever. The Creator prefers a few men with noble and humble hearts over ten thousand who know not how to bend the knee, and it might have been the closing of the portal that acted as the separator. The bold of heart dashed through, while the hesitant remained.”

  “Then so be it.” Edison firmed his jaw. “We march south.”

  “Wait.” Cassabrie waved a hand, gesturing for him to come closer. “Please. I need to speak to you and Captain Reed privately.”

  As she drew back, the two men followed, each one raising a hand to block the light. When they stopped out of the soldiers’ earshot, she whispered, “I must tell you about a new danger that has arisen. A disease has broken out in the Southlands. It is highly contagious and always fatal. If the men come into contact with any infected slave, they are likely to contract the disease.”

  “We were warned about the possibility of an outbreak,” Captain Reed said, “and we left behind those who didn’t want to take the risk. Now that an outbreak has actually occurred, we will certainly have to be careful.”

  Edison nodded. “This means we can’t take the slaves home. They’ll infect the people on Major Four.”

  “Not yet,” Cassabrie said. “There are promising efforts in the works to find a cure. In the meantime, you can still conquer the dragons and free the slaves from oppression.”

  Edison stroked his chin. “Freeing the slaves without coming near them will be a difficult task.”

  “Perhaps even more difficult than we know,” Cassabrie said. “It’s possible that the disease might still be in the air in the Southlands, and the menace would ravage the men with an invisible assault even without direct contact with the stricken.”

  Captain Reed glanced back at the soldiers. Some had shed their wet cloaks in the w
arming air. “How confident are you of this cure?”

  “I have no way to measure confidence, but is my level of certainty important? Your men came here knowing they could die. Does it matter if death comes because of an unseen enemy rather than one that has wings and scales?”

  Captain Reed’s face reddened a shade. “A warrior would rather oppose a mortal enemy he can see rather than one he cannot. I will try to encourage them myself. They might not listen to assurances from a woman who has never faced death.”

  Cassabrie lowered her head and touched her pocket. “Very well,” she said, taking a deep breath. “Perhaps you should encourage them, Captain. I will stay silent.”

  A jumble of shouts pierced the forest. The two soldiers tromped back into the clearing with Orion between them, struggling madly. Captain Reed hurried back to the gathered soldiers, followed by Edison. Cassabrie drifted slowly closer, hoping to hear from far enough away to avoid melting too much snow. The area was already too muddy.

  When the soldiers stopped, one saluted. “He doesn’t have the crystal. He must have hidden it somewhere.”

  “And there it will stay!” Orion said. “If your captain refuses to protect you from certain death, your rightful governor will.”

  “I will deal with him in due time.” Captain Reed drew a sword and raised his voice loud enough for all to hear. “Men, I know you are not afraid to die, but I hereby warn you that the dread disease we were told about has spread through the slave population, which could bring us great peril. If this news weakens your knees, then you are free to stay here until the rest of us return.”

  Orion’s face flushed. “Can’t you fools see that this is a march into carnage? Not only for you, but for your wives and children! Even if you conquer the dragons and release the slaves, you will conduct a fatal disease back to your loved ones!”