by Bryan Davis
She wept. Would Natalla be able to escape the dragons? Would she be sent to the cattle camp? What would Magnar do to Jason? At long last, someone had come from the other world, a promise of rescue, a sign that the stories were all true, and now her hopes were being dashed.
As she cried, a voice drifted into her consciousness. “Koren, if you had done as I asked, your rescuer would not be in peril.”
She looked at the egg. The voice continued, and her lips spoke the words. “Leaving the Basilica was a tragic mistake. Your presence at the mine provided a way for the men to rely on something other than their inner strength and sense of sacrifice for their loved ones. They allowed you to sacrifice yourself, and any man who gives up his duty to protect and defend the little ones, and transfers that duty to someone whom he should protect, has shredded his masculine dignity.”
Koren swallowed, but her throat tightened, making her voice squeak. “Do you mean that it would have been better for them to die?”
“In the long run, yes, because now they will never regain the courage they have shorn, and the future of humans on this planet is darker than at any time in history, for the Starlighter will be lost forever.”
“Lost forever? Do you mean that Magnar will kill me now?”
“Is that not the sacrifice for which you offered yourself?”
“Yes, but I thought maybe you would defend me. You’re the prince, and they do what you say.”
“I said you would be safe as long as you stayed within these walls. You violated that arrangement, so your safety is forfeit. If Magnar has his way, you and your rescuer will soon die, and yours will be a most excruciating death.”
Tears dripped down Koren’s cheeks and fell to her manacles. “Is there anything I can do? Anything to help Jason and the others? Even if I have to die, I am willing, but I want my fellow human beings left unharmed.”
“Is that so?” Her head turned unbidden toward Zena, and words spilled from her mouth. “Zena, move the Starlighter close to me so that we may have a more intimate conversation.”
A hint of a smile bent Zena’s lips. “As you wish, my prince.”
Crouching, Zena pushed a key into a lock where the chains attached to a ring on the floor. She reeled out several more links, extending the length between the ring and the manacles, and locked them in place again.
Koren’s lips again moved without command. “Come closer, Starlighter. Wrap your arms around me and listen to my inner voice.”
She glanced at Zena before shuffling forward on her knees. The chains dragged and jingled as she moved, and the extra links allowed her to reach the egg. She draped her arms over it and laid her ear on the shell near the top. A faint noise, low and rhythmic, sounded from within. Could that be the dragon’s heartbeat?
Words entered her mind, but this time without her lips giving them voice.
Listen to my heart, Koren, and I will infuse what you hear into yours. Put away the confusing thoughts in your mind, for they will never lead you to me. And do you remember what I said to you about the chains?
“If I stay in chains long enough, I will learn to love you. It is better that I love you by force than be given freedom to choose.”
You remember well. A soft laugh emerged. How did freedom serve you?
“Poorly. But I was trying to love, trying to sacrifice. The Code says you will recognize love when you see someone sacrificing himself for the sake of a pauper, and that’s what I was trying to do.”
Ah, yes! The Code. Now you see that the rigors of the Code are too difficult. You are unable to love, unable to sacrifice, so the Code is useless. Obeying it is out of your reach. You were born a slave, and you will die a slave, so the only good you can do is to serve me. As I taught you earlier, in your condition of aggression and doubt, you would never believe me worthy to be served, but now that you have learned how foolish you really are, and chains once again bind your ankles and wrists, perhaps you are less certain than you were before.
“Less certain about what?”
Your notion that love is a choice, that chains can never bind a heart. Your freedom has led you to seek a breaking of our covenant. Whether or not Magnar’s word superseded mine is of no consequence. The result has been disaster. So you can see now that you must be forced to serve me, for that is the only way you will ever learn to love me. Even now, if you will acquiesce with heart, mind, and soul, and agree to these chains for as long as I command, I can save your life.
Koren gazed at her chains. The prince had allowed them to be extended, not taken off. He had given her permission to touch, to listen, to embrace, but she still couldn’t walk away if she chose to do so. What did it all mean?
As she pondered, the memory of her recent conversation with the prince returned to her mind. She had shaken one of her chains and said, “If this is your idea of being worthy, then no, I would never learn to love you.” And that statement still seemed so true. No one would force love on someone else. It wouldn’t be love at all.
Still, she couldn’t argue with him. Not now. Her choices had proved disastrous, regardless of her motivations.
She looked at the raw skin and oozing blood that outlined her manacles. He was wrong. This wasn’t love. This couldn’t be love.
Koren stared at Zena. She stood erect, a ring of keys dangling from her fingers, and a sheen of perspiration making her skin glow. With the fountains reflecting in her shimmering pale skin, she seemed to be on fire. What was she, anyway? Those black, ovular pupils made her look like the egg had imprinted itself on her eyes.
Letting her gaze drift down Zena’s arms, Koren squinted to get a good look. The sweat on the slender white wrists highlighted a slight discoloration in her skin. Manacle abrasions? Yes, that had to be the reason. The shape and size of each mark was exactly right. She, too, had been shackled in these irons, and now she served the prince without chains.
Koren stiffened. Was Zena a picture of what she would become if she listened to the voice of the prince? Would she transform into a mindless zombie who believed love was hatched from bondage, that the Code was useless and impossible to obey, that her sacrifice for friends caused the hearts of men to fail?
She fingered once again her cloak’s green eyes, embroidered over her heart. Or should she listen to the voice in her heart, the one that sang like a bird whenever she read from the Code, the one that whispered into her mind saying how much the Creator loved her, that he would woo her with grace and mercy rather than with chains?
Loosening her arms, she drew away from the egg. As she slid backwards on her knees, a voice came through her lips. “Why are you drawing back? You are learning so much, and now I need to tell you—”
She slapped her hand over her mouth and pressed her lips closed. Breathing heavily, she concentrated and, slowly lowering her hand, forced her mouth to speak her own words. “No! I will not listen to you or your heart! I have to follow what I know to be true, the Code, that I can do what it says, that love is embodied in sacrifice, not chains! I will never love a despot that demands a kneeling posture while flailing my back with a whip! That’s not love. It can’t be love! I will never be your servant!”
She closed her lips again, but the voice managed to break through once more. “So be it…Zena, take the Starlighter to Magnar.”
Surrounded by Cowl, Allender, and the other men as well as the children, Elyssa pointed toward the interior of the tunnel, water dripping from the heel of her hand. “Where does this lead?”
“To the secondary entrance,” Allender said. “It was once the only entrance, but Magnar forced us to dig a new one.”
Elyssa nodded. “I was there, and I saw three tunnels. The middle one leads to a hole Jason and I used to come down to the mining level. Where do the other two lead?”
“As you face the tunnels,” Allender said, gesturing with his hands, “the one on the right leads here, and the one on the left goes up to the top of the mesa. When the dragons deliver supplies, they land up there, and we use t
hat tunnel to carry heavy objects in the cart. The wheels work better there than on the stairs at the entrances.”
Cowl lifted a finger. “We have one dragon guarding us. If my guess is right, he knows by now that a portal is in the secondary entrance chamber, so he will try to stop us.”
Randall struggled to his feet and raised his sword. “I’ll see what I can do to keep him out of there.”
“Any idea how long till Tibber opens the portal again?” Elyssa asked. “I lost track.”
“Me, too.” Randall nodded toward the recesses of the tunnel. “Just gather everyone over there and wait in front of the portal. If I can keep the dragon out, you should be safe.”
Allender let out a sigh. “I am no longer sure what to believe, but I am the leader here. If that little redhead can show such spirit, I can show a little bit more myself.”
“And I,” Cowl said. “When I saw the emerald fire in her eyes, it awakened something in me I had forgotten, like a flint lighting a torch that had long since been abandoned.”
Micah curled his bent fingers into a fist. “Yes! Let it burn!”
“You cannot face the dragon alone,” Cowl said, laying a hand on Randall’s shoulder. “I will help you.”
“But what about Tam?” Elyssa asked. “If you—”
“Then she will always remember that her father was a hero. I should have embraced that legacy when the numeral one came up on the cube. Seeing it made my heart quake, and I listened to my fears. After watching that blessed angel being carried bound and gagged up those stairs, I swore I would never listen to that dark voice again.”
“Then I will go as well,” Micah said, “I can—”
Randall withdrew his sword. “Cowl will be plenty. If every man suddenly gets the heart of a lion, no one will be left to protect the children.”
“Fair enough.” Allender marched ahead, side-stepping the hole leading to the lower level. “Follow me.”
Three men shadowed Allender. Mark carried Natalla, and another raised a lit torch, while Micah guided the children ahead. Elyssa waited for the others to walk out of earshot and looked at Cowl and Randall in turn. “I think we’re in more trouble than we realize,” she said.
“I agree.” Randall rubbed the hilt of his sword with tight fingers. “I was wondering about that dispatching business. Every man and child here knows about the portal and our world, so the dragons don’t want to leave anyone to spread the news to the other slaves.”
Elyssa laid a hand on the tunnel wall and closed her eyes. She allowed her mind to probe within, feeling the structure as she mentally drilled into its depths. “I sense trembling. It comes and goes in a rhythm.”
Randall looked up. “Footsteps? A dragon’s footsteps?”
“Could be. There is also another sensation, like a low buzzing noise. Very strange.” She flashed open her eyes and stared at Cowl. “At the top of the mesa, is the opening to the third tunnel big enough for a dragon to go through?”
Cowl nodded. “But only for a few steps. It quickly gets smaller.”
“Do the dragons have anything dangerous that Yarlan can put into the tunnel, something that would kill anyone below? Poison gas or a wild animal?”
Cowl stroked his chin for a moment. “I cannot think of—” His face suddenly turned pale. “No! There is something!”
“What?”
“Bees!”
“Bees?”
“Yes, in the forest we have beehives that slaves harvest for the dragons. The bees are extremely vicious, and their stings are fatal. Only a few humans have been found who can safely work around them. The dragons, of course, are immune because of their hard scales.”
Elyssa touched the wall again. “That would explain the buzzing I sensed.”
“For that to work,” Randall said, “Yarlan would have to close the exits.”
Cowl gestured with his hands, as if going through the dragon’s motions. “First he would put the bees in place and close the top opening. Then, while the bees are finding their way through the tunnel, he would likely close the secondary entrance.”
“And then this one,” Randall said.
“Yes, there is a boulder near each that he can push in place.” Cowl picked up Jason’s sword. “Come. We must get out before he shuts us in. We have to keep this escape open.”
Elyssa ran deeper into the tunnel, calling back, “I have to warn them. If the other entrance is already blocked, we’ll come back through this one.”
As her path turned darker, she again probed with her mind. The ground was even and the walls were smooth, no obstacles to prevent her from running as fast as her tired legs would carry her.
Soon, light returned. Ahead, the tunnel ended at the anteroom, and the men and children were gathered near the stairs. Natalla, pale, but otherwise recovered, stood holding Mark’s hand.
Allender stooped at the lowest stair, looking up at the exit while the man with the torch stood beside him. Wallace crouched in front of the portal plane, staring at the line of crystalline pegs embedded in the floor. “I saw the crystal you recovered,” he said to Elyssa. “It must be the missing peg.”
She pulled the crystal from her pocket and hurried to his side. Kneeling, she inserted the pointed end of the peg into the hole, but sand and pebbles kept it from going all the way in. “It’s blocked.”
“I will clean it out.” Wallace withdrew a small knife from his pocket. “It won’t take more than a minute.”
“We might not have a minute.” Elyssa left the peg with Wallace, rose, and waved at Allender. “We have to get the children out of here.”
Allender looked back at her. “Danger, Miss?”
“Plenty.” Elyssa set her hand on Tam’s back and guided her toward the stairs. “I don’t want to frighten the children, so if we can just get out and—”
“First let me see if the dragon is up there.” Allender started up the stairs, but in a rush of flames, he stumbled back down and crashed to the landing. Micah helped him to his feet.
Several seconds later, a distant thump shook the walls.
“I know that sound,” Micah said. “Yarlan sealed the main entrance.”
“It seems so,” Allender said. “At least this one is open. We might have to wait here and—
Elyssa grasped his arm. “No! We can’t wait here!”
“Calm down, Miss,” Allender said, patting her hand. “You warned of danger. What is it?”
“Shh.” She tiptoed toward the passageway on the left, listening. With every step, a buzzing sound increased. There was no doubt about it. Something was coming through that passageway, something angry.
“Bees.”
Twenty-One
Jason stood under a curved black ceiling with hundreds of starlike dots sprinkled throughout its expanse. If not for torches on the perimeter wall, this room would have looked like an outdoor courtyard rather than the central hub within the confines of the building Magnar had called the Zodiac.
He tried to touch his throbbing head, but his arms, bound at his wrists with a rope that wrapped around his waist, could not reach that high. Riding on that monster had been torture, with every jostle sending a new stab of pain into his wound.
Magnar sat behind a crystalline column at the center of the room. As thick as Jason’s arm and almost as clear as the air surrounding it, the column stood about head-high and was capped by a sparkling, transparent globe the size of a human head.
Something clicked. A hole opened in the center of the ceiling and grew rapidly. Sunlight peeked through, and a few seconds later, the entire sky, blue and cloudless, came into view.
As Magnar scanned the canopy above, a menacing scowl tightened his scaly face. “Arxad has much to answer for. If his explanation for his actions is inadequate, he will face the same fate as his beloved Starlighter.”
Jason blinked at the bright sunlight. “What did he do?”
“He rebelled against my authority, but the details are none of your concern.”
“If he knows he’s in trouble, maybe he won’t come back.”
“We have no need to fear that. He will not abandon his precious Starlighter or his family.”
For the next few minutes, Jason stealthily studied the room, trying to memorize the locations of escape doors and potential weapons—a broom, a fallen cactus, and a metal rod the length of his forearm—yet nothing seemed adequate.
Finally, Magnar snorted. “You see. Arxad approaches.”
High in the air, a dragon flew toward them, but his flight pattern seemed awkward and jagged. Soon, he flew into the roof’s opening and settled to the ground, his wings, torn and bleeding, beating the air.
Breathing heavily, he bowed and spoke in the dragon’s strange language.
“Use the human tongue, Arxad.” Magnar pointed at Jason with a wing. “I want this boy to listen to what I have to say to you.”
“Very well.” Arxad’s rapid breaths continued. “I apologize for my appearance, but Maximus and I had a rather significant disagreement.”
“You fought with him?”
“I did. You see, I took the Starlighter to the river where I thought I might find that drowning boy, and when Maximus joined us, his presence jolted me back to my senses.” After taking a long draw of air, Arxad’s breathing eased. “The river had not flooded. All was normal. So I scolded the Starlighter fiercely, and she and her friend ran away. Of course, I could easily have overtaken them, but Maximus attacked me.”
“He attacked you?” Magnar’s tail whipped the floor. “Why?”
“I can only guess, but I think when he learned that I would so easily scold the Starlighter, he knew that I was no longer under her spell. As you might know, ever since Maximus allowed her to enter the Basilica, his motives have come into question among some of us. It seemed that he was completely under her spell himself, and he was pretending to be angered by her trespassing.
“So when I left with her, he followed. But why? Was it to ensure her safety, thinking that I might punish her when my mind was restored? Evidence could lead one to believe that. Because of our battle, she escaped, giving further evidence that he has been aiding her all along.”
