Masters & Slayers

by Bryan Davis

  “This I cannot answer, because I do not know. He rescued at least one of the cattle children and escaped to the wilderness. I have not heard from him since.”

  “Is there a refuge in the wilderness, a safe place for runaway slaves?”

  “If there is,” Arxad said, “I wish not to know about it. It is better for all if I remain ignorant. Yet, it is doubtful that such a place exists. No slave has ever returned from those forests. The dangers are too great.”

  Adrian gazed at the dragon’s countenance. Although he had experienced only a few dragons, it seemed clear that Arxad was being truthful. Learning more about Frederick’s location from him seemed unlikely, but now that Arxad was ready to provide help, Adrian felt a surge of hope. “Why did you draw humans into contact? Why did you want the extane?”

  “I will not speak on that issue, and the time for your questions has ended. You are accused of murdering a dragon, and I have already extended you more privileges than you deserve. I must conduct the investigation.”

  Adrian bowed his head. Testing this dragon’s patience probably wasn’t a good idea. “I am ready.”

  “Because of your odd behavior,” Arxad continued, “I have decided to probe your brain, and I will use the Reflections Crystal to learn what I need to know.”

  Adrian stared at the glowing sphere. Apparently, this was the Reflections Crystal. Was it a torture device of some kind?

  As if reading Adrian’s mind, Arxad waved a wing, speaking softly as he gestured for him to come closer. “The process is not painful. It will merely help me discover whether or not there is more to your story than you have revealed.”

  Adrian took three more steps, bringing him within reach of the orb, clear and white. It seemed that the glow created a cloud of light that hovered above the clear surface, like a sparkling mist floating over water. With swirls of radiance mixing with sparkling points, the sight dizzied his mind. Whatever this thing was about to do to probe his thoughts, he had to resist. Marcelle’s life might be at stake.

  “Now,” Arxad said, “we must provide a baseline lie. Stare at the crystal and say something you know to be false.”

  Adrian shook away the fog. “Okay.” He cleared his throat and spoke slowly and clearly. “I feel no remorse for killing Millence.”

  The crystal faded to gray, then black.

  “An intriguing choice,” Arxad said, his brow lifting. “And a wise one.”

  Cassabrie glided within reach of the globe, her radiant body visible as she moved. “If I may vouch for his character, my lord, I—”

  “If he cannot vouch for his own character,” Arxad said, “then who are you to play the role of advocate?”

  She bowed, her head and torso the only visible parts of her body. “Yes, my lord.”

  Adrian nodded toward the crystal, now white again. “So it turns black when I lie and stays white if I don’t?”

  Arxad glared at him. “You have a firm grasp of the obvious. If only your wisdom had been as well developed.”

  Adrian maintained eye contact with Arxad. If he were to avert his gaze, that would make him look all the more guilty. Integrity never has reason to be ashamed.

  “Cassabrie,” Arxad said, “While I question him, I want you to tell me what happened.”

  “Very well.” Cassabrie’s hands appeared, and as she reached down, the sides of her skirt materialized, sparkling white. “I assume you want a Starlighter’s tale.”

  “I do, indeed.”

  Cassabrie twisted, making her entire body radiate, and as she twisted back, her cloak fanned out, and streams of sparkling light flew from the hem, like shining droplets cast away from the petals of a daisy. She lifted her hands, creating an aura around her, and her features clarified. With shining green eyes, flowing red hair, and pinpoint freckles scattered on pearl-like skin, the cadaverous body she inhabited in the woods of Major Four seemed like a fossilized shell compared to the radiant beauty spinning in place here in the world of dragons.

  She spoke with a lovely, lilting voice. “I was dwelling within this man of honor, peering through his eyes. The children paraded before us, each one leaning with a heavy burden, a pail of stones that would decorate a dragon’s luxurious home, allowing him to glory in his wealth, eating lambs, drinking wine, and sleeping on soft pillows. All the while, the pitiful urchins who supplied the stones scrabble for crumbs before crawling into their holes and sleeping on rocks, hoping that the pangs in their bellies will allow them to sleep. They beg for the spasms in their muscles to ease so that they can once again gather stones the next day and avoid the dragon’s cruel whip.”

  As she spoke, the raft and stream appeared in front of her, and a line of children walked next to it, each one carrying a pail. Although semitransparent, their details grew clear enough. They were the same children Adrian and Marcelle had seen in the cattle camp.

  Marcelle came into view, hiding behind a tree, and Cassabrie crouched next to her, taking Adrian’s place in the tale. Now a dragon stood over the children, a whip in its hand.

  While Cassabrie and Marcelle watched from their hiding place, Arxad touched a wound on Adrian’s neck with the tip of a wing. “Why do you choose punishment when the truth might well set you free?” His voice was deeper now, more resonant, and the statement sounded like a command rather than a question.

  As Adrian stared at the ghostly scene, the globe’s radiance brightened at his side, casting light over Cassabrie and the children. They seemed more real than ever, solid bodies with naked torsos and streaming sweat.

  The mirage drew closer, as if he were walking into its glowing envelope, yet his feet never moved, and the globe remained stationary at his side. Now the descending sun shone over the cattle camp, and everything appeared to be as real as when he stood there only hours ago. Yet, Cassabrie still crouched in his place next to Marcelle, and the crystalline sphere continued to sparkle.

  As if time had reversed, the pain in his shoulders eased. The dragon had not yet clawed his back and carried him away. In fact, every worry melted. The loneliness crumbled. All was well.

  “Adrian.”

  The dragon’s voice seemed far away, like an echo in a canyon. What was his name again? It started with an A.

  “Adrian, why do you choose punishment when the truth might grant your freedom?”

  As if summoned from deep in his chest, his voice filtered out unbidden—calm and smooth. “I am a man, so I must protect a woman.”

  The orb at his side glowed white, perhaps even whiter than before.

  “Did you, in fact, kill Millence?”

  “I did.”

  The radiance dimmed a shade.

  “Yet, there is more to the story. There is something you are not telling me.”

  A girl tripped and tumbled to the ground, spilling her pail. The dragon lashed her chest with its whip—once, twice, three times.

  Marcelle leaped from behind the tree, ran up the dragon’s spine, and hacked at its eyes with a sword. Cassabrie, her body sparkling, dashed ahead. A sword appeared in her hand, and she stabbed the dragon in the belly. It vanished, as did the children, except for the girl the dragon had whipped. Cassabrie and Marcelle knelt at the girl’s side.

  “Marcelle attacked the dragon,” Adrian said. “I thought it was a foolish thing to do, but I was afraid she would be killed, so I ran to her aid.”

  The orb’s original glow returned, sharp and bright white.

  “Are you certain Millence would have killed her had you not joined the battle?”

  “I wasn’t sure, but I couldn’t wait to find out.”

  The sphere remained white.

  “Why could you not wait?”

  “Because if it became clear that she would lose, it might be too late for me to help.”

  “So was your motivation pure chivalry, the code of a gentleman warrior?”

  Adrian swallowed. The question seemed strange, not a simple factual query, but rather a question of the heart. “I have been taught chivalry s
ince I was a little boy. It is part of my being, so I react accordingly, sometimes without thinking.”

  The glow dimmed several shades until it turned a smoky gray.

  “That is likely a true statement when not in context, Adrian, but it does not answer the question in complete truthfulness.”

  “I … I don’t understand.”

  The globe turned even darker, now a mass of coal.

  “You do understand. You have other reasons for protecting this woman, but there is no need to pry that information from your mind. I have learned all I need to know.”

  Something grasped Adrian’s arm and drew him away from the black sphere. The pain in his shoulders roared back, throbbing, aching.

  “Cassabrie,” Arxad said. “That is all.”

  Cassabrie rose from her knees. The aura shrank. Marcelle and the girl dissolved, as if drawn into the dwindling light. Finally, Cassabrie grew transparent until she disappeared.

  The crystalline sphere slowly shifted to gray. Adrian touched his chest. The patch was still gone, and the chill returned to his bones. What had happened?

  Arxad set a wing on Adrian’s arm and turned him around. “You and I will speak to Magnar, the leader of all dragons. If it is his will that you die for killing Millence, then so be it, but I will do what I can to plead for a lesser punishment.”

  “Did I …” Adrian set a hand on his head. His mind seemed clogged. “Did Cassabrie tell you what happened?”

  “She did. I saw what you saw. Cassabrie’s talents put you in a trance, so you were unaware of your surroundings. I now know that Marcelle is the true culprit in this murder.”

  Adrian’s words spilled out in rapid-fire fashion. “She knows better now. She won’t kill any more dragons. If you let us get together again, I’m sure I can control her.”

  The globe turned dark gray.

  Arxad’s brow dipped low. “Your level of certainty is greatly lacking.”

  Adrian glared at the lie-detecting sphere. It seemed infallible. “What will you do about Marcelle?”

  “I am not sure. Perhaps it would be best to allow her to decide her own fate. If she controls herself and attacks no more dragons, she will be difficult to find even if I send out a search party. Yet, if she continues attacking dragons, she will not survive very long. For her sake and those of your fellow humans, you had better hope she has learned to keep her sword in its scabbard. The mission on which you have embarked is already in great peril.”

  Cassabrie walked toward Adrian, every step giving light to her presence. When she stopped at his side, she disappeared again. Sparkles of radiance spilled from her mouth as she spoke. “I will stay with you, no matter what happens.”

  Adrian smiled at her, though it seemed no one was there. He then turned to Arxad. “So is the investigation complete?”

  “It is.”

  “When will the trial begin?”

  “As soon as I hear that Magnar is ready for a trial, but I must take you to the Basilica immediately. I have something that I must deliver there as soon as possible.” Arxad entered a darker portion of the chamber again, returned with the ovular bundle, and set it down. “When my delivery is complete, we will come back here.”

  “And will Cassabrie come with us?” Adrian asked.

  “Her presence will be indispensable. I will need her for a number of reasons that I care not to explain at this time.”

  Adrian set a hand on his chest, letting his touch linger. “Will you permit her to dwell within me?”

  “Only while you are being transported to the Basilica. She must not be seen until the proper time. Yet, I confess that I am confused. From the reaction I observed when she departed from you, I wonder why you want her to reenter.”

  “I can’t explain it,” Adrian said as he lowered his hand. “I suppose it’s a human phenomenon. Once we have tasted the pleasure of perfect union, we don’t want to be alone again, no matter how much the pain of the next separation rips at our hearts.”

  Arxad dipped his head. “So be it.”

  Cassabrie’s hand appeared, reaching toward Adrian’s chest. She touched the place where the glowing patch had been. As if absorbed by his skin, her fingers passed through the membrane, then her hand and wrist. The entry point stung, fiery hot, and the warmth spread across his skin and deep within.

  A river of light formed at his feet and flowed into his chest, every second pure torture, yet also pure pleasure. Her presence had returned—the joy, the companionship, the warmth of embrace.

  A girlish sigh passed into Adrian’s consciousness. Cassabrie was home.

  “I am glad, too,” Adrian whispered.

  She spoke in a faint whisper. “Yet, if you are found guilty and are condemned, all will be lost. You will die, and I will again be disembodied. As wonderful as it is to serve the dragon king, living as a ghost without you will be a torture I cannot bear.”

  “Arxad,” Adrian said, “what will happen to Cassabrie if I die?”

  “There is no need to discuss hypothetical questions, but I can tell you this. Whether you live or die, I can arrange for you to be together.” Arxad’s brow lifted. “Yet, is she the female with whom you wish to spend eternity?”

  As warmth again spread throughout Adrian’s body, the pain of his wounds eased. He spoke as if in a dream. “I have no other female. No wife. No intended. Cassabrie is my only love.”

  “Although she appears to be younger than you,” Arxad said, “Cassabrie is actually considerably older, though rather ageless in her current state. I am confident that there are other females of your age who would find you to be an attractive mate. I saw one in Cassabrie’s tale who appears to be quite suitable.”

  Adrian blinked. The dragon’s words seemed odd, distant. He wasn’t making much sense at all. “All is well,” he finally said. “As you indicated, she is ageless.”

  Arxad drew his head close to him and looked into his eyes. “Cassabrie, if you love this man, do not violate his trust. You cannot keep forever that which is not freely given.”

  Adrian’s voice passed through his lips but not by his command. “I understand, my lord. It is my love that heals his mind and body and allows him to endure his trials, but I will release what is not rightfully mine at the proper time.”

  “Very well.” Arxad touched the ovular bundle with a wing tip. It still pulsed, but with less energy than before. “Remember, Cassabrie, Magnar is vulnerable, and if Adrian is sentenced to die, you will be present at the execution. Perhaps your love will be used in another way.”

  “Again, my lord, I understand.”

  EIGHTEEN

  WITH moonlight illuminating the mine, Drexel knelt and shook Orlan, hissing quietly. “Wake up! Something terrible has happened!”

  Orlan blinked before staring at Drexel. “What?”

  “Come. I’ll show you.” He rose to his feet and pointed at Cassandra, now sleeping alone. “Wake her and bring her along.”

  While Drexel waited, Orlan scrambled to his feet and roused Cassandra. As she stretched and yawned, Orlan looked at Drexel. “Where are the others?”

  “You’ll see.” Raising a finger to his lips, he tiptoed into the passage between the mining pit and the mesa’s exit. As they traveled away from their source of light, darkness closed in, but moonlight from the exit guided their way.

  When they arrived, Drexel pointed at the skirt of pebbles and sand around the opening. Three vague small bodies lay motionless, two with legs ensnared by one rope and the other similarly caught in another rope.

  Orlan lunged, but Drexel caught his arm and whispered, “They’re not moving. I’m pretty sure they’re dead.”

  Orlan spun toward him, his face streaked with pain. “What happened?”

  “They went to sleep early in the day, so it was to be expected that they would awaken. I can only assume that they went out in search of water and fell into the dragons’ snare.”

  “But why? They should have known it was dangerous!”

  Drexel
stroked his chin. “Now that I think about it, I’m sure they were asleep when we talked about the trap. They had no idea it was there, and thirst must have driven them to risk the danger of being seen. They probably thought darkness would keep them safe.”

  Orlan’s face twisted. Heaving shallow breaths, he dropped to his knees and covered his face. Cassandra crouched and leaned against Orlan’s arm. Both children wept softly.

  Drexel stooped in front of them and spoke with a sympathetic tone. “Come, my sorrowful friends. Now is the time to do what we must to avenge their deaths. When we escape to freedom, we will return with a thousand warriors and defeat those evil dragons. You’ll see. Those child murderers will be the ones locked in chains and cowering under our whips.”

  Orlan brushed away tears and rose to his feet while helping Cassandra rise to hers. Looking at the quiet bodies outside, he nodded. “Let’s go.”

  With Cassandra’s hand in his grip, Drexel led the way, again tiptoeing. As he stepped on the mesh that triggered the snare, now lying flat and dormant, his shoes crunched the gritty surface underneath. He paused at the girl’s body, lying prostrate with a tight loop around her bare ankle, and felt her neck. It was cold and still. Orlan held a hand over the mouth of one of the boys. After waiting for a moment, he looked at Drexel and shook his head sadly.

  After checking the other boy, also lifeless, Drexel gestured for Orlan and Cassandra to follow and strode confidently toward the portal, retracing the path that led him to the mine. Four moons shone in the sky, three near one horizon, and a larger one just beginning to rise on the other. The nearby stream raised the comforting sound of running water, muffling their own noises—nervous breathing, crunching gravel, and Cassandra’s leftover sniffles. At times, it meandered away, only to return again with its soothing rhythms. At a point where the stream drew nearest, Drexel allowed the children time to stop and drink, but he hurried them through the process. The need for safety, of course, outweighed the need for hydration.

  Every few seconds, Drexel scanned the purple sky. No sign of dragons. Very strange. Before coming here, the image of dozens of dragons patrolling the air and ground had fostered the idea of obsessive control, that every moment in the slaves’ lives passed under a dragon’s watchful eyes. Yet, it seemed that they were supremely confident in their power, having subjected their underlings to such cruelty that a less vigilant approach to captivity sufficed. Perhaps no one dared step out of line, knowing that death or brutal beatings would surely follow.