Liberator

by Bryan Davis

  “But it ends at a waterfall.”

  “I know. I told you it wasn’t safe.”

  When they found the raft, Jason knelt beside it. The saplings had separated here and there, and several vines had snapped. Their supply bags lay torn open, and every scrap of food was gone. “Forgot about the bags,” Jason said.

  “So did I.” Elyssa knelt on the other side of the raft and began tying vines. “Well, you promised me a ride. I guess we’d better get started.”

  Tibalt sat in a small forest clearing next to Fellina, holding both hands against his head. In spite of the tumble from Fellina’s back, no bones had broken, but his headache had to be the worst to strike any soul since the beginning of time. When three dragons converged on her at the treetops, she had to drop without warning. But a ninety-something-year-old man needs at least a hint, or else he’s sure to fall. And fall he did, from at least twenty feet up. If not for the wealth of leaves cushioning the forest floor, he definitely would have been buzzard food.

  Squinting to clear his vision, he looked around. Fellina sat only inches to his left, with two bigger dragons guarding her closely. Blood dripped from a gash in her belly— not a deep wound, but bad enough to keep her grounded for a while.

  About fifty paces away, a small hut sat in the midst of the trees. Children filed out from the broken front door, which had been smashed by the draconic scoundrels on Taushin’s order. Beside the line of waifs, the black dragon himself watched through the eyes of his psychotic mother, Mallerin. She held a thorny branch over the heads of the little slaves, poised to strike should one dare to break from the cluster gathering in front of the cabin.

  Tibalt shook his head sadly. The smallest young’uns wore only a loin cloth, and they trembled and wept bitterly, while the older ones stared straight ahead. The poor little folks had probably given up on freedom. They had been so close — freed at last from the cattle-camp whips, only to have their hopeful dream turn into another nightmare.

  At least a dozen other dragons stood guard at various spots. Others flew back and forth overhead, creating winged shadows that sometimes found their way through the thinning canopy.

  Tibalt touched his tunic. The sores on his chest were worse than ever, making the material stick to the oozing flesh. Inside his gut it felt like two mountain bears were clawing and biting. Whether by dragon or disease, he’d be dead soon, so it didn’t make any sense to just sit like a bump on a stump. He had to do something to help those kids.

  He leaned toward Fellina and whispered, “Any ideas?”

  “A few.” She kept her voice low. “But none that we could survive.”

  “Not even a chance?”

  “A remote chance, perhaps. We would have to count on the art of persuasion, but they are not likely to listen to me. I am considered a human-loving traitor.”

  “Tell me what you’re thinking. I have the gift of gab, and anything’s better than sitting here watching this travesty.”

  “I think Taushin is hoping to protect his dragons from the Benefile by using the children as a shield. The Benefile have a strong sense of justice, though it is twisted and unpredictable. Still, their justice might keep them from hurting the innocent in order to punish the wicked. Also, since the children are not infected, they will be seen as necessary for ongoing propagation of the species.”

  “Okay. Cowardly dragons are gonna hide behind babies. I get that, but where does the gab come in?”

  “We convince Taushin that separating you from the children would keep them from catching the disease, which would be helpful to his cause. You could run back to where I picked you up, and you and Randall could find Arxad. If the soldiers are getting close, he would know —”

  “Stop the chatter!” One of the dragons slapped Fellina’s snout with his tail.

  Fellina growled something in her language, which drew a sneer from the guard but nothing more.

  Tibalt gulped. Fellina’s idea made some sense, but what if the dragons decided to roast him alive instead of letting him go? A quick puff of fire and he’d be a smoking wick in no time. Disease gone. Problem solved.

  Cocking his head, he pictured the scene, his body burning and smoke spreading toward the cabin … and the children. He nodded. Convincing them that smoke carried the disease might just work.

  A branch swayed to his right, more than what the wind would cause. Sitting up straighter, Tibalt blinked several times. Nearly covered by foliage, a man walked along a limb inch by inch. The foliage moved at the same rate, and a glint revealed a metal blade within the leaves.

  Tibalt jerked his head back, praying the dragons hadn’t noticed him watching. They had been scanning the sky for the Benefile and the forest floor for an approaching army, so they might not detect an intruder who took the middle ground. Whatever he was up to, he needed someone to create a distraction.

  He coughed to hide his whisper. “Do you see the man in the tree?”

  After a quick glance, Fellina nodded almost imperceptibly. With a snort, she blew out a disguised, “Frederick.”

  “Then here goes.” Summoning his strength, Tibalt leaped up. He stripped off his tunic, ripping at the sores and exposing them for all to see. “Look at me, dragons!” he shouted, twirling his tunic. “I’m as sick as they come. If you want those young’uns to stay healthy, you’d better let me go!”

  Every dragon turned toward him, some snaking their necks around tree trunks to get a better look.

  “Stay back, old man,” Taushin said, his eyebeams locked on his mother, “or you will burn where you stand.”

  Mallerin’s head swayed. Her ears twitched, and smoke billowed from her nostrils.

  “No, you won’t!” Tibalt wagged a finger. “The smoke pouring from me will carry the disease, and then the children will surely catch it.”

  Taushin chuckled. “Humans from Darksphere are so easy to detect. They think dragons are like the stupid beasts that roam the fields in their world—that we are unable to unravel the simple deceptions they weave. This old man threatened the children with his disease, and then he warned me not to spread it to them. And he thinks I am too dense to see the contradiction. I think his theory that smoke will spread the disease deserves a test, Mother. What do you think?”

  Mallerin curled her neck, like a serpent ready to strike. “I will gladly administer the test.”

  “Fellina,” Tibalt said, stretching out her name, “I’m in big trouble.”

  “Run!” Fellina blew a blast of fire into Mallerin’s eyes. Tibalt bolted toward Frederick, weaving through a maze of trunks, and hid behind Frederick’s tree.

  While Mallerin shook off the flames, Taushin roared, “Get him!”

  Three dragons gave chase, but the closely packed trees forced them to squeeze their hefty bodies in between, slowing them down. Fellina leaped into the air. Beating her wings madly, she rose toward the treetops, breaking branches along the way.

  Frederick dropped to the ground and shoved a leafy branch into Tibalt’s grasp. “Take this and burn down the cabin. Make sure no children are inside.”

  “But the branch isn’t on fire.”

  “It will be.” Frederick gave Tibalt a shove. “Go!”

  Holding the branch in front, Tibalt ran toward the cabin. The closest dragon lunged, but Tibalt shot behind a trunk, blocking the attack. He ran on, ducking and weaving from tree to tree.

  To his left, Mallerin launched twin streams of fire from her nostrils. Tibalt swung the branch around, catching the flames in the leaves. He skirted the children and dashed through the doorway. Straw and leaves littered the floor. One little girl lay in the bedding, apparently asleep. An open window on the back wall let in a breeze, fanning the branch’s flames.

  Tibalt tossed the branch into the straw, well away from the girl. “Sorry about the disease, little tyke, but I can’t let you burn.” He scooped her up and took a step toward the door, but Mallerin poked her head through.

  “You cannot escape now!” She blew a torrent of fi
re. Tibalt leaped to the side, threw the girl out the window, and dove under the dragon’s head.

  Crawling on his belly, he scooted past her, then jumped up and ran around the cabin. Smoke shot through the roof. From above, Fellina added blasts of fire that splashed over the debris on the forest floor; she had apparently figured out Frederick’s plan to spread chaos.

  When Tibalt reached the back of the cabin, he picked up the girl and cradled her in his arms. Her bare chest heaved, but she stayed silent. Sores covered her torso from her navel to her throat. “She already has it,” he whispered. “It’s already spread this far.”

  Tibalt crept to the corner and peered around to the front. Smoke filled the forest, making it impossible to see beyond the next corner. A dragon called out in its own language, and another answered in the same gibberish.

  Frederick burst out from the haze, leading a line of children, a sword in his hand. He stopped and waved them toward a denser part of the forest, his arm swinging like a windmill blade. Every young mouth stayed closed, as if they had been trained to escape in silence.

  When the final child plunged into the brush, Frederick signaled for Tibalt to follow.

  Tibalt shook his head and mouthed, “Fellina.”

  Frederick ran to him. “Most of the dragons are chasing Fellina,” Frederick whispered. “I heard Taushin call for his mother to help him escape, so the two of them probably took off.”

  “You understand that dragon talk?”

  Frederick nodded. “It took a little while, but I can pick up most of it.”

  “So what’s your plan?”

  “For you to lead the rest of the dragons out into the open.” Frederick dropped the sword and took the little girl from Tibalt’s arms. “If Fellina is able, she will follow you. The point is to put the dragons where the Benefile can find them. Use my sword for protection.”

  “You don’t mind giving an old man the toughest jobs, do you?”

  “Take your pick. Lead the dragons on a chase, or protect forty children without a weapon.”

  “Well, when you put it that way.” Tibalt picked up the sword. “I’ll be dragon bait.”

  Eleven

  Randall blinked at the blinding mist and held on to the protruding spine in front. Riding on a dragon through clouds had never been part of Marcelle’s training. With the disease starting to bore a hole in his gut, it wouldn’t take much to regurgitate the berries he had eaten.

  Earlier, Xenith had said to be completely quiet, though her wings sounded like two soldiers beating horse blankets. She descended a few feet and lowered her head into the clear. After a few seconds, she bent her neck and brought her snout close. “We are directly above my home. Prepare for a fast dive and a sharp turn into the cave.”

  “Prepare? Any advice besides hold on for dear life?”

  “If you fall, roll with your momentum.”

  “What if I fall from a hundred feet up?” Xenith’s lips bent into a grin. “Then avoid the front of my cave. We like to keep that area clean.”

  “Thanks a lot.” Randall wrapped his arms around her spine and clutched it with both hands. “I’m ready.”

  Xenith folded in her wings and plunged from the sky. As they dove at a sharp angle, Randall kept his eyes open. The Zodiac’s spires came into view, as well as the belfry at the Basilica. Below the spires, hundreds of people milled about near the portico, and three white dragons stood in a semicircle formation around them, as if on guard.

  In the blink of an eye, the scene rose out of sight. Xenith stretched out her wings and caught the rushing air, making Randall’s body press against her scales. She bent into a sharp turn and zipped into a dark hole, as if swallowed by a gaping mouth. With a blast of fire, she lit up the cave for an instant and landed in a graceful run.

  When she came to a stop, Randall slid down her scales, but his wobbly legs gave way. He toppled over and rolled until he struck the side of the rocky corridor.

  “An excellent roll,” Xenith said. “You followed my advice quite well.”

  Randall climbed to his feet and massaged his ribs. “Your sense of humor is … interesting.”

  Xenith blew a stream of sparks over a lantern wick. When it flashed to life, she looked him over. “Since you have the disease, I will have to scour this room with fire when you leave. Father hopes to make it a safe place for uninfected humans. Then I will search for him and let him know where my mother is.”

  “Do you know where the Northlands portal is?” Randall asked.

  “Yes. Cassabrie showed it to me once when I was transporting her.”

  “Good. That’s a place I’d check if I were looking for Arxad.” Randall staggered to the entrance and leaned a hand against the side. “If only I could get my legs back.”

  “With the disease ravaging your body, you might not get your legs back.”

  Randall let out a short laugh. “That’s what I like about you, Xenith. You’re always ready with an uplifting comment.” He stared at the Zodiac’s spires. They weren’t far away at all, maybe a five-minute walk—shorter if his legs would work properly. If he could get to the Basilica without being seen, it would be easy to sneak into the Zodiac through the tunnel, but then what? Only a dragon could fly up to the main floor, and even if he made it, what could he do once he got there?

  “Are you formulating a plan?” Xenith asked.

  He turned toward her. Her head tilted to one side, making her look like a curious puppy — a hideous, scaly puppy, but cute in her own way. “I’m trying. I know how to get from the Basilica to the Zodiac’s lower level, but I’m not sure how to get into the Basilica.”

  “The front gate should be unguarded. In fact, it’s probably open.”

  “That helps. I was thinking if I could get into the Zodiac, I could at least get close enough to listen to what’s going on and maybe find some other way to help.”

  “Yes … help.” Xenith’s face took on a faraway look.

  “Do you have an idea?”

  “Well, not my idea, really. I heard a suggestion through a rumor, so its validity is questionable.”

  Randall waved a hand. “I’ll take the source into account. Let’s hear it.”

  “We could try to draw Cassabrie here, but I am not sure if she is powerful enough to defeat the Benefile.”

  “She’d be a lot more than we have now,” he said. “How do we draw her?”

  “Do you know where the Reflections Crystal resides?”

  Randall nodded. “I’ve seen it from the Zodiac’s door. It’s in a dome-like room, right?”

  “Yes. If you open the dome, Solarus will activate the crystal.”

  “What good will that do?”

  “Father has told me many stories about the crystal, how it absorbs the spirit of a human and the energy of a Starlighter. Those properties are the basis of the rumor.”

  “Go on.”

  Xenith looked upward as if studying the ceiling. “The crystal once resided underground, beneath the Northlands castle at the deep end of a shaft in a mountain. When the humans pierced Exodus with a spear, the force of the star’s released gases propelled Exodus to the Northlands, where it fell into the shaft, dropped to the bottom, and hovered over the ground that concealed the crystal. The star and the Starlighter within were trapped there for centuries.”

  “Okay,” Randall said, “I think I see where you’re going. It would be practically impossible for the star to find its way through that shaft. Since the crystal absorbs Starlighter energy, Exodus was drawn there.”

  “For a human, you have quite a nimble brain.”

  “Thanks … I think.”

  She gave him a clumsy wink. “To continue my tale, Alaph, the king of the Northlands, removed the crystal and brought it to Arxad for reasons I do not know, but the removal caused a rift in the ground that allowed the star’s pheterone to drip into a network of veins that supplied the planet with the gas.”

  “Do you think Alaph had that in mind?”

  “That
is likely. He considers every aspect of his plans before proceeding.” Xenith shuffled to his side, and they both looked toward the Zodiac. “In its wounded state, Exodus was unable to follow the crystal, but now that the star has risen, perhaps opening the dome will draw it to the Zodiac.”

  “And that’s the rumor,” Randall said. “We don’t know if Exodus will be drawn that far.”

  “Correct. And we also do not know how Cassabrie would react. She might consider it an affront to be called here by force.”

  “Not if she sees what the Benefile are doing.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Randall formed a circle with his arms. “Did you see how they surrounded the people? I don’t like the looks of it.”

  “What do you think they intend to do?”

  “I’m not sure, but I think before you look for Arxad, you might want to investigate so you can tell him what’s going on.” Randall pushed away from the wall and stood upright. “So how do I open the dome?”

  “There is a lever in a column that supports the outer circle of the dome. When you’re at the Reflections Crystal, you will see constellations on the ceiling. Follow the stars that make the spear, and you’ll find one of the control columns. A lever on that column or one next to it operates the dome mechanism. I do not remember which one.”

  “The spear? We must have a different name for it where I come from.”

  “Perhaps,” Xenith said, “but it is unmistakable. It looks just like a hunter’s spear.”

  “Got it. Now I just need to figure out how to get from the lower level of the Zodiac to the main floor.”

  Xenith’s grin returned. “I have never seen the lower level, so I leave that to your ingenuity.”

  “That’s what worries me.” Randall straightened his sword belt and bowed to Xenith. “Noble dragon, it has been an honor.”

  She dipped her head in return. “The pleasure has been mine. It is clear that humans who are accustomed to freedom are able to think clearly and act courageously to secure that freedom for others.”