Liberator
Sixteen
Arxad flew toward the portal’s forest clearing. Carrying explosives in an insulated box he had packed with snow, he searched for a safe place to deposit the volatile load. In recent times, a snowdrift would have been an ideal location, but now with only a few white patches interrupting a landscape of trees and mud, it seemed impossible to know where a soft drop-off point might be.
As he approached the site, several uniformed men came into view, standing or sitting around Orion, who leaned against a boulder. When the men raised spears and shields, Arxad shouted, “Put down your weapons! I come in Captain Reed’s name!”
Orion jabbed a finger at him. “He is the enemy! Pierce him now! You might not have another chance!”
“If I were an enemy,” Arxad shouted as he made a loop over the glade, “I would have torched all of you already!”
One of the soldiers, eyeing him carefully, gestured to the others, speaking something too quiet for Arxad to hear. The other men lowered their weapons, though they kept a firm grip on shield and spear alike. After diving into the clearing at the southern edge, Arxad beat his wings to level out, deposited the box carefully, and slid into a muddy landing. As he slowed to a stop, he swept his tail through the mud and flung it into Orion’s face. “Your foolishness is an assault on reason! You make Prescott look like a sage!”
Orion wiped mud from his eyes and slung it to the ground. “You wouldn’t know a sage from a simpleton. I prevented a disease from ravaging my world.” He pulled a white cloth from his pocket and cleaned the rest of his face. “History will record me as a hero.”
“A coward’s hero.” Arxad reared up and plucked the crystalline peg from between his scales. “It is time to put your fearmongering to death. Let us bring your full army into Starlight.”
“No!” Orion lunged for the crystal, but two soldiers held him back. Struggling, he shouted, “He’s a dragon, you fools! The disease will slaughter your wives and children. Why are you siding with the slavers over one of your own kind?”
The man who had spoken to the others earlier stepped in front of Orion and faced Arxad, a hefty spear in his grip. “I can’t say that I’ve ever opposed a dragon before, but what Orion says has merit. If you want to torch us, we can’t stop you, but if you open the portal without us, there should be enough men to give you the fight of your life. So unless you can give us some reason to lower our defenses—”
“Cease the chatter.” Arxad reared again, exposing his underbelly and the mirror, the red thumbprint still emblazoned on the surface. “I wear your captain’s symbol.”
The soldier leaned close and studied the mark. “That is his thumbprint!” He set the point of his spear against the ground, and the other men unnotched arrows, sheathed swords, and upended spears as well. “We are at your service. What can we do to help?”
“Keep Orion in your grasp. Do not let him interfere.”
Two soldiers regripped Orion’s arms, one at each side. Arxad shuffled toward the line of pegs. The receding snow had exposed a knee wall, and the pegs stood in a line on top. After pushing the center peg in place, he walked to the portal and poked his head through just enough to view the other side, ignoring the shout that went up as his head appeared in the Darksphere clearing. Scattered among the trees, hundreds of soldiers waited, many sleeping on the ground or leaning against trees, though a guard of sixty or so men stood at attention surrounding the portal. With sunlight passing through the trees at a nearly horizontal angle, it appeared to be early morning or late afternoon. One guard, apparently the one who had shouted, pointed at Arxad while nudging the guard next to him.
Arxad drew his head back to Starlight and waved a wing. “Come. All of you. I will give everyone instructions at the same time.”
“Go back to our world?” Orion said. “Are you actually coming to your senses?”
Turning his snout toward Orion, Arxad breathed hot air over him until perspiration trickled from his brow, “If you continue to insult me,” Arxad said, “you will learn what most dragons do when a human speaks with such arrogance.” Arxad again waved a wing. “You guards go first and explain my presence. I will speak to Orion alone.”
The soldiers walked single file through the portal, each one disappearing in a spray of sparks. When the last one vanished, Arxad focused on Orion. The Darksphere governor stood with his shoulders square, but his trembling legs belied his confident posture.
Arxad removed the peg from the center hole. “Where did you hide the other crystal?”
Orion gestured with his head. “In the forest. Somewhere back there.”
“Show me. I want it.”
“And if I refuse?” Orion blinked rapidly. “If you kill me, you will never find it.”
Arxad bared his teeth. “Do you realize that I closed the portal so the others could not hear our conversation?”
“I guessed as much.” Orion maintained a calm tone in spite of his knocking knees. “You plan to kill me, hide my body, and claim that I ran away. But you cannot lie to the Starlighters. This world will know the truth, and the tale will eventually trickle to mine.”
“Since you have lost control of your region, martyrdom is the only hope you have remaining for your legacy. I will not participate in your elevation to that status.”
Orion wiped his forehead. “I care only for the people of my world, not for my status.”
“I had hoped for your cooperation. You could have contributed in a truly heroic way.”
Orion looked to the side, smoothing out his cloak as if feigning disinterest. “And how might that be?”
“Adrian and Marcelle are at the castle, and they will be coming here soon. I need to make sure the portal is open for them to return to your world. If I could trust you, I would leave you here to act in that capacity.”
“I don’t see why a dragon would trust me,” Orion said. “I certainly wouldn’t trust a dragon.”
“And lack of trust is the core of our conflict, is it not?”
Orion nodded. “We are finally in agreement.”
“Then hear me, Orion. I will be the first to take a risk. Watch my trust in you and then decide if you will act heroically or not.”
Arxad reinserted the peg and walked through the portal. On the other side, the soldiers stood at attention in an array of straight rows and columns, all eyes on him.
Arxad glanced back. A cool breeze blew through the portal. Orion had not closed it yet.
An officer stood in front of the closest line and gave Arxad a chest-thump salute. “We almost gave up hope. We very nearly decided to go home, but now we are ready to march and join the others.”
“March you must, and you will join the others, but our plans have changed. We brought you to this portal because we knew it to be safe. At this time, no one is guarding the Southlands portal, so you will save much time and energy if you go there. I will open the portal from our side and allow your passage.”
The officer gave a shallow bow. “Begging your pardon, but we don’t know where it is on our side.”
Arxad stared at the officer, a youngish man as humans go. It seemed that his question rolled a boulder in front of the new plan. It would take too long to guide the soldiers to the other portal and then return. Orion might be trusted for a few moments to keep the portal open, but for an hour? That was far less likely. “I suppose, then, we will have to go the long route and —”
“Father!”
The call in the dragon tongue came from Starlight. Arxad whipped his neck around and pushed his head through the portal.
Xenith landed in a muddy skid. When she stopped, she wheezed as she spoke. “Father, the Benefile are planning to kill the slaves!” As she caught her breath, her voice settled. “They are going to freeze them to destroy the disease so the army can safely invade.”
Arxad caught a glimpse of Orion watching from behind the boulder.
“Repeat your concern in the human tongue so the human warriors on Darksphere can understand you.”
Arxad nodded toward the portal. “That way.”
Xenith extended her neck toward the portal. “The Benefile are planning to kill the slaves. They hope to destroy the disease by freezing them all.”
“And why have you come so far to tell me this?”
Xenith drew her head back, confusion touching her fiery eyes. “Because what they plan to do is wrong, Father. Humans have a right to live.”
Nodding his approval, Arxad met her perplexed stare. Even after her long flight, her eyes stayed sharp, clear, filled with purpose, ready to do whatever else she could to help the slaves. He extended his neck and nuzzled her cheek to cheek, whispering, “You have done well.”
“Thank you, but what do we —”
“Excuse me for a moment.” He swung back around to Darksphere and addressed the officer. “If you will wait another minute, I think I have a solution.”
The officer bowed again. “Excellent. We will await your instructions.”
Arxad walked fully back into Starlight. “I feared that the Benefile might do this. Sometimes they are unpredictable, but I have never underestimated their cruelty.”
“So what do we do?” Xenith asked.
“How is your stamina? Can you fly to the Southlands again?”
She drew in a long breath. “I can.”
“Have you heard about the portal at the mining mesa?”
She bobbed her head. “I have heard talk of it, and I know where both mesas are, but I do not know exactly where the portal is.”
“It is at the mine closer to the village. If you go through the secondary entry, you will see a line of crystals similar to the one here, only embedded in the ground instead of on top of a low wall. The center peg is missing.” Arxad touched the center crystal with his tail. “When I return to Darksphere, take this peg to the mesa portal and place it in the open hole. If all goes well, I will already be on the other side of the portal with many more soldiers. Perhaps with your speed, you will open it in time to stop the Benefile.”
“I appreciate your faith in me.” Xenith wrapped a clawed hand around the peg. “I am ready.”
Arxad curled his neck around hers. “Do you have news from your mother?”
“Only that she is at the wilderness refuge. Randall said she has a minor wound, but my concern is that she will not take care of herself. That wound or her earlier one could easily worsen.”
“Your concern is valid. Your mother is not one to pamper herself. She and I are both ready to sacrifice everything to protect our race.” He pulled back and looked Xenith in the eye. “You are not required to do the same. You have a choice.”
“Do I really?” Xenith nodded toward the portal. “Go, Father. I will see you in the Southlands.”
Arxad looked at the boulder. Orion was gone. Would he retrieve the other crystal and open the portal for Adrian and Marcelle? Maybe. He was an unpredictable human indeed.
“When I disappear,” Arxad said, “fly with all speed. If you see your mother, tell her …” He shook his head. “I will tell her myself when I return.” With a powerful wing beat, he burst into the air. After circling the glade once, he snatched up the weapons box and zoomed through the portal.
With Elyssa and Edison at his side, Jason stood atop a ridge of rubble that had once been the great barrier wall. Who could have destroyed such a massive structure? It seemed impenetrable, a symbol of dragon dominance, but now a one-hundred-foot section lay in a head-high, east-to-west line of boulders with a gentle slope on the north and south, easy to climb.
The river flowed over the rubble’s midsection, stripping sand and grit from the top and creating a slurry that slowly clarified as the water drifted northward. The soldiers rested on the south side of the ridge at the river’s edge, some taking long drinks straight from the current and others just catching their breath and eating from their rations. Drenched with sweat, river water, or both, they needed a break to cool down and dry off. Wallace sat among them, telling stories about being a slave. If nothing else, the tales would infuse passion in the weary men. With the battle against dragons still to come, they might need it.
Magnar perched atop the wall’s remains on the east side, searching the area. He had volunteered to act as a watchman, so they could relax without worry.
“Any ideas?” Jason asked.
Edison shook his head. “My imagination isn’t big enough to grasp the power needed to do what has been done here. It’s as if the Creator himself punched the wall with a mighty fist.”
Elyssa lifted a scorched scrap of paper and sniffed it. Wrinkling her nose, she handed it to Edison. “What do you think?”
He sniffed it as well. “Sulfur?”
“Yes.” Elyssa crouched and laid a hand on top of the pile. “The rocks are warm, but they’re even warmer underneath. With Solarus shining, the opposite should be true.”
“So the ones on top are cooling off,” Jason said. “Something generated a lot of heat.”
Edison looked at the river. “What’s this?” He jogged down the heap and waded into the shallows. Bending over, he began pulling something from under the pile. Blue and saturated, it looked like a blanket, but when he straightened it out, a hem and a hood took shape. “It’s a cloak,” Elyssa said.
Jason ran to his father and took the cloak. Although the wetness made it darker than usual, the size and shape were all too familiar. “I think it’s Koren’s.”
Elyssa joined him and rubbed her fingers along the hood’s lining. “Definitely.”
“She wouldn’t have left it here unless …” Jason couldn’t finish the thought. It was too awful.
Elyssa dropped to her knees in the water and laid both hands on the ridge. “I’ll start probing!”
Jason grabbed a stone from the pile and heaved it into the river, raising a huge splash.
“No!” Elyssa shouted. “I need to concentrate, and you have no idea where to look.”
While Elyssa probed, scooting slowly toward the river’s edge, Jason sat heavily on the pile and closed his eyes. Koren’s image crept into his thoughts. What did her cloak’s presence mean? Did she find healing? According to his father, she was near death when he found her. It would have taken a miracle for her to survive.
He leaned back and focused skyward. Didn’t Koren deserve a miracle? She was so loving, so sacrificial, so passionately dedicated to her fellow slaves. Maybe the Creator had a special miracle just for her, something amazing, something that would prove to her how much everyone loved her. But … she would never leave her cloak behind.
“I found something!” Elyssa began grabbing stones and throwing them to the side. Jason and Edison leaped up and joined her, one at each side, pulling, throwing, and rolling stones away from the heap.
“Can you tell if it’s a body?” Jason asked, gasping as he rolled a boulder.
Sweat rolled down her reddened cheeks as she nodded. “A human. That’s all I know.”
They continued the desperate digging, grunting in three distinct tones. Finally, Jason unearthed a hand.
“Here!” he shouted.
The three joined together at the site and soon uncovered an arm connected to a male torso. A bit more digging revealed his gray-haired head, wobbling loosely attached to the torso, his neck obviously broken.
Edison turned the man’s face upward and brushed dirt away from his cheeks and eyes. With a deep sigh, he whispered, “It’s Uriel.”
Jason swallowed through a lump. Half of his mind shouted in relief, It’s not Koren! But the other half wailed for his friend.
“Poor Uriel!” Elyssa dropped to her knees and wept.
“It’s so awful!”
His stomach churning, Jason picked up a stone and slung it away. Uriel Blackstone had survived for all these years, seemingly handpicked by the Creator to live long enough to find a cure for the disease, only to be buried in a heap of boulders before the job could be finished. It was all so senseless. Such a waste.
Edison touched Elyssa’s shoulder. “Could t
here be another body?” he asked.
“I …” She sniffed back a sob. “I don’t think so, but I’ll keep looking.”
“No need.” Edison climbed to the top of the ridge and shouted at the men, “I want everyone here, on the double!”
Soon dozens of hands joined the search. Stones flew everywhere, and even the biggest boulders were no match for the strong and practiced arms that rolled them aside. Wallace joined in and dug ferociously.
Magnar watched from his perch on the wall, apparently aware that he wouldn’t be much help. After a while, the ridge flattened to a field of scattered debris, but no other bodies turned up.
Jason, Edison, and two other men buried Uriel under a pile of rocks. When they finished, Edison knelt at the side of the pile while everyone gathered around. “We will not have a funeral here. We erected this to protect Uriel’s body from scavengers. When we return, we will take him home. I swear it.”
Jason draped Koren’s cloak over his arm and took Elyssa’s hand. Tear tracks stained her cheeks, but they seemed dry now. “I wonder if she ever found out that Uriel was her father,” Jason said.
“Impossible to know.” She touched the cloak. “It’s still wet.”
“The material’s thick,” Jason said. “It holds water.”
“No matter.” She took the cloak, whipped it around her back, making it flare out, and settled it around her shoulders. With a new tear trickling from her eye, she raised the hood. “In Koren’s honor.”
“It’s appropriate.” He looked her over. Elyssa’s eyes sparkled green from within the hood’s shadow, sad but vibrant. “Very appropriate.”
After everyone gathered on the south side of the field of rubble, Jason surveyed the crew—forty-seven men, a boy, one woman, and a dragon. The men had swords in scabbards at their hips, many clutched spears, some had quivers on their backs, and the woman wore a blue cloak and a pendant on a chain. Yet the woman without a weapon might prove to be the most powerful of them all.
Jason gestured for his father, Elyssa, Wallace, Captain Reed, and Magnar to gather around. When they formed a close circle, Jason spoke in a low tone. “I once heard Taushin speaking about his plans, and if I understood him correctly, he and the other dragons will be holed up somewhere to hide from an attack. They won’t be in the village.”