Warrior (28 page)

Finally, his speech clarified, and Koren backed away.

“We have no choice,” Magnar said. “We must kill every one of them.”

Arxad thumped his tail. “Not the children. Some are not infected yet.”

“And how do you know this? Because they exhibit no external symptoms? Are you willing to start a new colony with infected stock? Sending the eggs along with the genetic instructions is the only answer.”

“But when the children hatch,” Arxad said, “who will protect them until they are old enough to understand the instructions? Who will teach them to apply the alterations? Who will ensure that the recessive gene survives until it is ready to combine with another? And when that generation is created, who will bring a specimen back here to repopulate the world?”

“We will have to share those roles. May I suggest that you are better suited to protect the eggs and the young offspring?”

Arxad nodded. “I agree.”

“And I will be the judge of when we should bring them back here.”

“Silence!”

Koren spun to the rear. That was Taushin’s shout. As the two dragons faded, she blinked at the prince. “What’s wrong?”

“I asked for Magnar’s present activity, not ancient history.”

A new buzz passed through the crowd, dragons and humans speaking their own languages in frenzied whispers.

“Aren’t you interested in this information?” Koren asked.

“Zena has provided all the history I need to know. What you were showing us will not benefit the dragons and humans here. It will cause only confusion.”

Koren clenched her teeth. This story would clear up confusion, not create it. Magnar and Arxad seemed ready to reveal the mystery of the humans’ presence on Starlight, apparently telling a tale that merged all the legends into a coherent history. Why would Taushin try to hide it?

Zena laid an arm over Petra’s shoulders. “Concentrate, Starlighter. If you cannot show us Magnar’s current activity, show us his most recent history.”

Koren glared at Zena. The black-hearted witch’s pretentious show of affection sent a clear signal—obey or Petra will suffer.

“I …” She cleared her throat to combat a squeak. “I will try.”

When Koren raised her arms again, the crowd fell silent. Mystery thickened, and no one stirred.

After going through her usual tale-telling motions, Magnar and Arxad appeared again, this time standing in front of a line of crystalline pegs embedded in the floor. Once more the voices warped, and only a few words penetrated the constant interference.

“After all these years, we will finally go back,” Magnar said in the dragon language.

Arxad responded in a garble, finishing with, “Hide in the wilderness until Taushin resurrects the Northlands star. Then we can use her to restore the kingdom to you.”

“Do you think Taushin will be so easily defeated?” Magnar asked.

More garbled words spewed.

“Do you intend to bully everyone into cooperation?” Arxad asked.

As scratchy sounds veiled the conversation, Taushin shuffled closer, his ears standing up straight.

“If necessary,” Magnar said.

Again, noise overwhelmed the conversation. This time the dragon images flickered in concert with the interference.

“Go back,” Taushin shouted. “Make him speak again! I must hear Magnar’s treacherous plan!”

“I’m trying!” Breathing heavily, Koren focused on Arxad and Magnar. Concentrate. Sharpen the view. That was probably within her power. But go back and retell the tale? Was that even possible?

The scene jumbled, warped, as if the two dragons battled. The interference spiked. Jagged lines fractured the image. Then, in a splash of light, it disappeared.

As a bead of sweat coursed down Koren’s cheek, she turned slowly toward Taushin. His eyes burned a purplish hue. With a growl, he mumbled his words, too low for the crowd to hear. “Turn to the others, so that I may see them as I speak.”

Swallowing, Koren pivoted on her heels. She let her gaze sweep across the blank stares, imagining Taushin’s angry eyes looking through her own. Were hers just as fiery? Maybe so. But the people gave her no indication. They had already been entranced by her hypnotic power.

“As you witnessed,” Taushin called out, “Magnar has departed to a secret hiding place that the Starlighter cannot reach. He and Arxad desire to usurp me and destroy my plans to release every human on the planet.”

Koren boiled inside. She wanted to shout, “He didn’t say that,” but the words died in her throat. It did sound like Magnar was planning a rebellion. But Arxad?

“As you saw for yourselves,” Taushin continued, “even Arxad is in league with the traitor. If he returns, I trust that anyone who sees him will report it to his dragon master immediately. Yet we have nothing to fear. We have the Starlighter, who will monitor the traitors’ schemes so that your future liberty is assured. She will continue to be the mediator between humans and dragons, and her power will be a sign to you that the age of free humans is about to dawn.”

Koren wanted to look at Zena and Petra, but she had to keep scanning the audience until the dark prince’s sermon ended. His scheme had grown crystal clear. She would continue mesmerizing everyone while he spoke, ensuring that his version of truth penetrated their minds and locked in place. Not having sight, he seemed immune to her tale-telling dance and the images she conjured, though he could see them through her eyes.

She let out a quiet sigh. What could she do? Watch for Arxad and warn him? Dare she risk Petra’s safety? Of course, trading one life to save hundreds made logical sense, but the thought ripped a hole in her heart. Might there be a way for her to save everyone?

Finally, Taushin finished his speech and dismissed the crowd. Koren stood quietly on the top step, watching the dragons and humans stream away.

“It is time to go,” Zena said from behind her. “I’m sure you must be exhausted after that ordeal. I can draw you a warm bath, and you can—”

“No, thank you.” Koren kept her stare straight ahead. “May I stay here and think a while?”

“Of course. Petra and I will make preparations for you.”

Koren nodded. Of course Petra had to go. She was the anchor that kept Koren from running away.

Taushin sidled up to her and whispered, “I must go as well. Zena will guide me. Just remember, I see what you see. No matter where you are, with Zena’s power I am able to find you.”

When the sound of his dragging tail faded, a new draconic voice whispered from the side. “Starlighter, gaze not this way. Even if you must pluck out your eyes, cast not those shining jewels upon me. The sake of every dragon and every human in every world depends on your deference to my command.”

Koren looked in the opposite direction. The newcomer spoke in a lyrical cadence, and his odd choice of words made his identity clear. “Tamminy?”

“Yes. It is I, the ancient singer, the bard who is blessed to see beyond mortal vision, yet cursed to sense an ill wind before it arrives. Such a wind is mounting on the horizon, and you carry its portending odor. Taushin sees through you, I know. The blue in his blind orbs flashes, and your eyes echo the light, like thunder chasing a lightning bolt. As a verdant meadow fades in a scorched land, your green eyes have tasted the fury, and they are withering. They are taking on the color of coldness, the color of death. Yet, when you resist, I see the sparkle of life return. Flashes of green signal that hope remains. You are able to overcome.”

Koren blinked. A battle in her eyes? They burned a little, but wasn’t it from lack of sleep? “How did you pay such close attention? Everyone else was hypnotized. Weren’t you?”

“I know secrets, Starlighter, old secrets, mysteries lost, and mysteries locked away. Your gift is a buried treasure that has been unearthed, and those who look upon it with greed in their hearts are captured by its allure. Few are those who are immune to the call of hidden knowledge. They long for a taste of its magic. For some, it is a fresh flavor on their gossiping tongues, a tale that elevates them over a neighbor, a cheap and passing pleasure. For others, it is a door to advantage. In the race between men or between dragons, the one who holds the gems of history will surely bypass the ignorant competitors. Only a few are immune—prophets, who see beyond the glitter to the heart of wisdom; the blind, who see nothing but feel the power of knowledge; and fools, who perceive neither wisdom nor knowledge, and even the glitter bounces off their glazed eyes.”

Koren drank in his poetic words, very nearly swaying to his rhythmic delivery. “Okay. I think I understand. What do you want to tell me?”

“Your countenance betrays you. You serve Taushin by force. I perceive an invisible collar around your throat, bonds that choke your freedom of will. Your friend, the mute waif, is a hostage, and love for her is a barbed hook that keeps you from running. Your freedom is a sham. You are still a slave.”

Keeping her head turned, Koren nodded. “Do you have a solution?”

“There is only one who can give aid to both humans and dragons, the only one who cares for both with equal weight. He is an intercessor, a lover of truth and justice, a defender of the defenseless.”

“Arxad? It looked like he was leaving with Magnar. Didn’t you see it?”

“I saw beyond his exit to the world of humans. Arxad did not leave of his own accord. He was bound by oath to Magnar. To a dragon of integrity, such a chain surpasses any material restraints. He is also bound by love, for he knows what Magnar craves—dominion, oppression, and lust for bowed backs—and Arxad’s love of liberty is a passion that conquers all other loves.”

“What will he decide to do?”

“I cannot see the future, fair lass. I merely sing the Creator’s songs. I do see, however, a war raging within Arxad. He longs to be here to guide the hatchling’s rise to power, for history teaches that a young king is a river. Such a river can be channeled into a reservoir that quenches the thirst of those he rules, but without the stones of wisdom on each bank, the river can flood and destroy all it was designed to nourish.

“I believe Arxad hopes to return as soon as his chains allow. But he must honor his principles and restrain the madness of the former king. So, for now, Arxad is Magnar’s shadow, and he will stay with his brother until his chains are broken.”

“His brother? Magnar and Arxad are brothers?”

“Twin brothers. Rare are they, for most dragonesses lay but one egg during each cycle, and even then, perhaps half never hatch. In my long and tiresome lifetime, I have never known of twin eggs hatching, apart from these two, and they are as different as Starlight and Darksphere—in color, in caution, and in character.”

Koren imagined two younglings, one reddish and one tawny, nestled together in the midst of two shattered shells. They appeared in front of her, ghostly in aspect as they slept. It seemed impossible that Arxad was ever so small. He had always been Master, Lord of the household, not a defenseless youngling.

As she took a cleansing breath, the image faded away. “What can you do in the meantime?” she asked. “What can
I
do?”

“For your part, you must not completely succumb to Taushin’s influence. Eventually Arxad will return, and you must be of sound enough mind to rebel against Taushin in order to help Arxad. But first we must take care of the speechless lamb, or else your love for her will be too great a chain.”

Koren pictured herself shackled to Petra. Tamminy was right. Her love for Petra was an invisible chain, and Taushin would always keep it in place. “What do you have in mind?”

“Taushin’s coronation will take place this afternoon in the presence of the Separators. When he is officially king, he will be in position to do as he pleases, and I expect that he will use your power to impose his will.” After a brief pause, Tamminy added, “Dark forces are hastening to possess you, child. You must escape with all speed.”

A shiver ran up Koren’s spine. “I know, but how can I escape? Can you help me?”

“Meet me in the theater room in one hour, and bring Petra with you. Of course, you will have to get away from Taushin and Zena and, again, avoid looking at me. So you must be clever. If, on the other hand, they happen to fall asleep, we will be able to converse eye to eye.”

“That’s not likely. Not in the middle of the day.”

“We’ll see about that,” Tamminy said.

Koren forced down a painful swallow. “One hour. I’ll be there.”

E
lyssa jogged along a narrow path, following Wallace, who now carried a sword. Earlier, he had stowed the book in a cart used for hauling stones. After laying a blanket over it, he covered the cart with branches and fronds and hid it in a dense part of the forest. He then went home where he borrowed a shirt and retrieved a sword one of the slaves had hidden long ago. A number of legends had arisen concerning where it came from, but few dared to talk about actually using it. It seemed a pitiful weapon when compared to the firepower of a dragon.

As they hurried toward the cattle camp, Elyssa clutched the glowing sphere, trying not to lose her battle with dizziness. Concentrating on Wallace’s feet helped, though the constant jiggling incited a bout of nausea.

A few minutes later, he slowed to a halt at a vine-covered wall. A waist-high wooden box with a padlocked lid stood nearby, apparently a storage unit of some kind. While taking deep breaths, he turned to Elyssa. “This is the cattle camp. Now I just have to find the hole Koren and I used to sneak through. I’m sure we’re close. We always used this food bin to mark the spot when we returned in the dark.”

“A food bin.” Elyssa touched the roughened top. “For the cattle children?”

Wallace nodded. “Locked tight, though. The dragon guard holds the key.”

Elyssa glanced at the hand that held the sphere. “Perhaps we can find a way to get that key. Not only will the children likely be hungry, but I’m starving as well.”

“If they’re eating what I did when I was in there, it’s nothing
you
would want to eat.”

She caught the emphasized
you.
“What do you mean?”