by Bryan Davis
“What is this man’s crime?” Zena asked.
“He killed a dragon.”
Every facial feature stretched out as she screamed, “He what?”
His body relaxing, Adrian nodded. “I did, but it was—”
Zena slapped him savagely, her long nails dragging across his cheek and lips as she followed through. “The prince and I will come and witness your termination, and he will absorb your energy for himself!” She heaved shallow breaths, her black eyes pulsing.
“You will not!” Cassabrie leaped off Arxad, her body now ablaze in yellow and white. With her fists clenched and her brow low, she stomped toward Zena.
Blocking with her hands, Zena staggered backwards. “Stay away from me, Starlighter! My quarrel is not with you.”
“Well, my quarrel is with you.” Cassabrie halted an arm’s length from Zena. At least a head shorter, she looked up at the woman draped in black and pointed a finger. “You betrayed me! You sent me to the cooking stake!”
“Your own actions were your downfall. I am not at fault for exposing your crimes.”
“Crimes!” Cassabrie’s hair flamed, shooting out scarlet flares. “It is not a crime to pursue freedom for my fellow humans. Yet, you sided with the dragons and—”
“Enough!” Arxad growled. “I will not allow a battle. If the prince is harmed, then all will be lost.”
“The prince!” Zena hurried back to the egg. Again cradling it in her arms, she marched to the center of the room and set it in a marble basin, padded inside with white pillows and sheets. She stroked it tenderly. “He will likely hatch by dawn,” she crooned, “and we will see what he thinks about the survival of this Starlighter and the schemes of those who concealed her.”
Adrian stared. What was this black egg? Who was the prince? This woman’s obsession seemed like madness.
Zena reached into an open floor panel. Jets of fire spewed from the tiles and splashed against the stone ceiling, thin fountains set so close together, no one could pass in between. Narrow sections of Zena’s body stayed visible between them as she continued petting the egg.
Adrian breathed the word Arxad had mentioned earlier. “The incubator.” Whoever this prince was, Zena wasn’t about to let any harm come to him. Yet, if he was so important, why did Arxad decide to show him the Separators’ meeting before taking the egg to the incubator? It didn’t make sense.
Zena stepped through the flames and stood with her arms crossed, apparently unharmed. “The prince is well and he thanks you for the safe transport.”
Arxad bowed his head. “Then all is in order in spite of the recent mishaps.”
“We shall see very soon, won’t we?” Zena pivoted and reentered the circle of flames.
As Arxad unfurled his wings, he turned to Adrian and whispered, “We must go. I will carry you in my claws again. Magnar might already be at the Zodiac, so your posture as a potentially condemned prisoner is important.”
“Why didn’t Zena burn?” Adrian asked.
“Her story is not yours, and I don’t choose to tell it now.” Arxad stretched out his wings fully. “Come.”
Cassabrie, fading once again, climbed onto Arxad’s back. Adrian straightened his shirt, making ready for another pain-filled journey. As he smoothed out the material on his chest, his hand passed over the area that used to glow. Deep within, an emptiness throbbed, like a hole begging to be filled. Yet, more important issues flooded his mind.
“Arxad,” he whispered, “Jason is my brother. I didn’t even know he was here. Is he safe?”
“He is for the time being. I sent him to the Northlands with a new Starlighter named Koren, a living girl who will be of great help to him.”
Adrian breathed a sigh of relief. “Then he will probably find my father there. Maybe they will come back together.”
“The possibility did enter my mind.”
With that issue settled, another surfaced in Adrian’s thoughts. He glanced at Zena, once again within the circle of fiery jets as she knelt close to the egg. The whoosh of flames acted as a good sound barrier, allowing him to speak freely. “Do you think Cassabrie will react when she sees Magnar again?”
“Cassabrie’s gift causes her emotions to vent in uncontrollable ways. She can be a passion volcano.”
“Will you be able to hide her this time?”
“It will be difficult. I need her to stay close at hand for a purpose I cannot divulge, so I will have to think of a way to conceal her once we arrive. Since Zena knows she is back in the land of dragons, Magnar will soon learn of it.”
“And if Magnar sees her?”
“He will surely attack her,” Arxad said. “She is vulnerable to heat. That is why she must abide in the Northlands during the hotter seasons. Although she feels no change in temperature, I think a blast of fire from Magnar could destroy her spirit.”
Adrian took in a deep breath. With his mind clear, now he could try again to withstand her presence. “Okay, I guess she should come inside me, then. Magnar will never see her—”
“Oh, yes!” Cassabrie slid down Arxad’s side, ran to Adrian, and threw her radiant arms around his waist. “I knew you still loved me! I knew it!”
Arxad gave him a sideways stare. “Even after all you have experienced, will you risk such an unpredictable consequence?”
“It’s like jumping into a chasm to save a friend. I don’t know how deep it is, but I’m willing to take the risk. That’s what love does.”
“I see.” Arxad eyed him for a moment before muttering, “Humans are a strange lot.”
Cassabrie’s hands lifted the hem of Adrian’s shirt. Her light energy crawled underneath and penetrated his chest, once again bringing the surge of warmth and passion. Yet, this time, Adrian resisted the pull, the yearning to join in the celebratory explosion of emotional ecstasy. Like a man treading water in a deep pool, he kept his head above the surface while tentacles wrapped around his legs and tried to drag him under.
Taking another deep breath, Adrian lifted his chin. “Let’s go.”
Arxad took to the air, made a wide orbit around the fountains of fire, and swooped down, picking up Adrian as he flew by. He rocketed out of the chamber and then nearly straight up. Above, a wide hole in the roof opened to the sky.
As before, the claw wounds in Adrian’s back burned and ached. Cassabrie whispered into his mind. “Allow me to massage your pain away, dear Adrian. That’s why I’m here.”
Adrian said nothing, choosing instead to close his eyes. Resist. Just stay focused. Recognize the influence and fight it.
“Adrian …” Her voice was as soft as velvet. “Your pain is obvious. Let my love flow within. I will soothe all your woes, your pain, your worries, and your heartaches. You cannot face this trial without me. If you are sentenced to death, I will be there to welcome you to my eternal state. But you have to allow our union—one heart and one mind. You know how good it feels. Let me give you that pleasure once again.”
Gasping for breath, Adrian shook his head. “If you love me, Cassabrie, stop seducing me.”
“Seducing you? Is that what you think I’m doing?”
“I’m not sure. I don’t have another word for it right now. Just stay hidden and stay quiet.”
“Of course, Adrian.” Her voice sounded hurt. “I would never force myself upon you.”
After circling once over the Zodiac’s open dome, Arxad flew close and peered into the hole as he passed. He extended his neck down and spoke to Adrian. “Magnar is already there. Prepare for a landing suitable for a dragon killer.”
Arxad dove into the hole, dropped Adrian roughly on the slate tiles, and landed near the crystal sphere. Folding in his wings, he turned to Magnar and spoke in the draconic language. Cassabrie translated immediately and continued as the conversation went on.
“I apologize for the delay,” Arxad said. “I had to return the prince to Zena, and I could not leave the prisoner here without supervision.”
Adrian rose to hands and
knees and stayed in that position. Humility was likely the best posture.
“Understood,” Magnar said. “But I have not waited long. We had a Separators’ meeting a short while ago, so I, too, was delayed.”
Arxad waved a wing toward Adrian. “The prisoner has confessed to the crime, but he sought my protective counsel, so I have brought him to you. Because of the confession, the law requires no assembly.”
Magnar’s neck extended, drawing his head within Adrian’s reach. His eyes seemed deeper and redder than those of the other dragons, perhaps even wiser. “Does this murderer have any defense at all?”
“Yes,” Arxad said. “I will present it at the proper time.”
“Then, let us get on with it. You have promoted humans to prepare in a few hours, and I need to make ready for the morning’s banquet. Still, the timing is good. The murderer can be included in the festivities.”
“Very well.” Arxad turned toward Adrian and spoke in the human tongue. “Get up, dragon killer.”
Adrian struggled to his feet. As he looked at Magnar, he felt Cassabrie glaring at him. Her stare burned, and her spirit boiled within. Heat radiated to his skin, raising droplets of sweat. “Calm down,” he whispered.
Her voice hissed. “He is the butcher of the Basilica. The emperor of executions. His list of atrocities against the innocent is an assault upon heaven itself. The blood he has poured from the veins of women and children cries out from the ground to stop this foul fiend who dragged us from our homes, locked us in chains, and forced us to serve him with our limbs, our life’s blood, and our loins.”
Like a flood, Cassabrie’s passion washed over Adrian’s mind. His legs trembled. His heart pounded. She had broken through his wall of resistance, and her energy radiated throughout every part of his body.
He tilted his head back and let out a long breath. Her presence felt so good! Every pain eased. Every fear of death at the hands of the dragons melted away. Even if the worst happened, he would be with her forever.
Magnar glanced at the crystalline sphere atop the stake in the middle of the room and then stared at Adrian. “You have been accused of killing a dragon. Is this accusation true?”
Adrian looked him in the eye. “It is true. I plunged a sword in the belly of Millence. I killed him.”
The sphere glowed white but slowly faded to light gray.
Magnar looked at Arxad. “What is the meaning of this ambiguous result?”
“He has told the truth, but he has held back part of it.”
“As I suspected.” Magnar shifted to Adrian, hatred burning in his eyes. “I heard a report about a human murdering a dragon at the barrier wall and severely injuring another. Are you the culprit?”
“I battled the guardian dragons,” Adrian said, “but only because they refused my appeal to Arxad. They were going to kill me.”
When the sphere turned white again, Arxad growled. “I knew nothing about this. The human withheld this information from me.”
“Such is the substance of his character,” Magnar said. “Let us hear the case and get this over with.”
Arxad gave Adrian a long stare, anger obvious in his countenance. Would he proceed with the defense in spite of the new revelation? If this priestly dragon was still obligated to help, he would probably tell Magnar about Marcelle’s attack on Millence in order to mitigate the crime. But that would reveal the presence of another dragon assassin in their midst. Since he faced certain death, protecting her was the least he could do.
“No,” Adrian said. “There is no defense. I killed both dragons intentionally, and if I had the opportunity under the same circumstances, I would not change what I did.”
The sphere stayed bright white.
Arxad lowered his head. “So be it.”
“A waste of time,” Magnar said to Arxad, “but I understand. You have to do your duty.”
“And your verdict?” Arxad asked, his eyes aimed toward him.
“Oh, yes. The formalities.” Magnar turned to Adrian. “You are guilty of murdering two dragons and maiming a third, so I sentence you to death. When Trisarian reaches its peak, you will be cooked along with the others.”
Adrian looked at Arxad. The others? The dragon priest had to know what Magnar meant, but he stayed silent.
Magnar stretched out his wings. “Keep him in chains here. We will bring in witnesses for the execution, as usual, and then process the promoted humans as soon as the others leave.”
Cassabrie flamed again, sending a new wave of heat through Adrian’s body, but her voice stayed low and steady. “Process the promoted humans. That cowardly serpent. If only he knew what the king has in mind for him.”
After Magnar flew through the hole in the roof, Cassabrie’s passion mellowed. Adrian drew in a quick breath, again feeling as though he were treading water. He had resurfaced and survived another onslaught of her influence.
Arxad settled to his belly and laid his head on the floor, his long neck in the shape of an S and his snout aimed at the crystalline stake. He closed his eyes. Thin curls of gray smoke ascended from his nostrils, so weak they were barely visible.
Cassabrie whispered through Adrian’s lips, “Arxad? What’s wrong?”
His eyes still closed, he lifted his head just enough to speak. “You will find a fire poker in a box near the wall. It is locked, but Cassabrie knows how to open it. Use the poker to slay me. I will not resist. I am the worst of hypocrites, and I deserve to die.” He turned to his side, exposing his underbelly, and tucked his head under a wing. “If you pry loose one of my scales, you can use it as a key to exit this chamber. Cassabrie will teach you how to employ it.”
Adrian looked at the crystalline sphere. It glowed bright white. “Cassabrie,” he whispered. “What’s going on?”
A lamenting tone spiced her reply. “He is sacrificing himself, Adrian. The law won’t allow him to set you free, but if he is dead, he can’t stop you.”
“Why would he do that?”
“I think he wants you to find Marcelle and free the slaves. He is despondent. You heard how they mocked him in the Separators’ meeting.”
“I heard.” Adrian walked closer to Arxad and, bowing his head, gazed at the wondrous sight, a huge beast splayed on the floor, once the enemy, now a sacrificial ally. “Does he have a family?”
“A mate, Fellina, and a daughter, Xenith. They are a model dragon family, as dragons go. They have slaves who act as cooks and cave-keepers, but Arxad treats them with respect. They are never beaten. At least that’s what he has told me.”
Adrian continued staring at the dragon, humbled and vulnerable. Why would he be willing to leave his family bereft? Maybe the great shame he felt from the Separators’ mockery sucked out his will to live. Maybe the disregard for law and propriety among his dragon peers had left him without hope for the dragon race.
Still, he was a dragon. At the very least he had submitted to a culture that enslaved the innocent. While children suffered brutal treatment in the cattle camps, Arxad enjoyed the fruits of their back-breaking labors. The stones in this very courtyard were borne in the pails of little boys and girls who carried bleeding stripes along with their physical burdens. Every morsel of food he ate came to him from the hands of humans who longed to be free from their chains.
Adrian marched toward the perimeter, scanning the curved wall for a box.
“Adrian, what do you mean to do?”
He stayed silent. This was no time to converse with her. No matter what he planned, if she objected, her overpowering presence would likely prevail.
He found a low wooden box next to a stack of hewn logs. An old padlock similar to those back home fastened the latch. “Arxad said you know how to open it.”
“He has a master key to all padlocks in the Zodiac.”
“Where is it?”
“Adrian, I don’t think—”
He growled as he spat out his question again. “Where is it?”
“In the cactus bed,” she said, her v
oice shaking. “Under the stones near the edge.”
Adrian followed the perimeter, passing three columns spaced by abstract murals on the wall, until he reached a bed of cactus and river rock, mostly pebbles with a few larger stones mixed in. He stooped and ran his fingers through the smooth pebbles.
“A little to the right, I think,” Cassabrie said.
He shifted over, found the key, and hurried back to the box. After unlocking the latch, he slid the key into his trousers pocket. As he lifted the hinged lid, a powerful rush of heat flowed into his cheeks and ears.
“No, Adrian. You can’t kill Arxad. That would be murder.”
Inside the box, a long poker lay among several other fire-tending implements—a blower, a small shovel, and a broom. He grasped the poker’s handle tightly and marched toward the dragon.
Again, heat surged, stinging his skin. Sweat trickled down his back. Every step seemed like a journey through desert sand—scalding, draining. His throat dried out, and the muscle aches roared back.
Cassabrie’s voice grew to a commanding shout. “You will not kill Arxad! I forbid you!”
Adrian stopped, now within a few steps of the dragon. Looking straight ahead, he spoke as clearly as his parched throat would allow. “You said, ‘I am to be your guide, not your mistress.’ What happened?”
“I … I …” As she fell silent, the heat tempered.
Regripping the poker, Adrian walked up to Arxad’s belly and found his vulnerable spot, a gap no bigger than a fingertip between two scales. He stooped close enough to speak softly. “You talk a lot about choices, Arxad. You asked me if I would be satisfied if you had no choice but to put me to death. Are you satisfied that you have given me no other real option but to put you to death?”
“We always have options,” Arxad muttered from beneath his wing. “Some are more desperate than others.”
“Understood. You also gave me the option of dying and staying with Cassabrie or dying and going to meet my maker. Those choices were rather limited.”
Arxad drew his head out from under his wing. “I also gave you the option to fight your way to freedom.”
