Diviner (23 page)

“No
buts,
Jason.” Her voice steadied. “Let’s be realistic. Death is a real possibility. We can’t keep facing it and cheating it forever. Between you and me and Randall and Tibalt and Uriel, the odds are one of us isn’t going to make it.”

Jason nodded. “And my father.”

“Right. So let’s all promise each other that no one will be left behind. We’ll do everything we can to take anyone’s body home.”

Jason gave their finger clasp a brief squeeze. “I’ll spread the word.”

“And one more thing.” She leaned so close, her breath warmed his cheek. “And this one is just between you and me.”

“Okay.” As her eyes locked on his, he swallowed. “I’m ready.”

“If I die, and you get married, will you wear my pendant at your wedding?”

He glanced down. The pendant dangled at her chest, the side with the clasped hands visible. “Uh … I suppose I could do that. Why?”

“Because when I was six years old, I vowed to be with you on your wedding day. If I can’t walk down the aisle with you, I want to adorn you with love in the only way I’ll have left.” She lifted their link, kissed his finger, and walked away, her hands covering her face.

Jason took a step toward her, but a firm grip held him back. “Let her weep alone, son. There is nothing you can say.”

Jason turned toward his father. “You heard what she said?”

“Every word. And she saw me listening. A covenant needs a witness, you know.”

Jason looked at Elyssa again. She stood at the castle’s entryway and stared out at the snowy landscape. “I didn’t know she felt that way. I mean, we’re good friends, but …” He couldn’t find the words to continue.

“There’s something about facing death that brings feelings to the surface. As a soldier getting ready to march into a dangerous battle, I have heard many men confessing their sins and making solemn oaths.”

“You’ve told me that before. They make their vows because of fear, and if they survive, they don’t live up to their promises.”

“With rare exceptions.” His father nodded toward Elyssa. “I’m pretty sure she is a rare exception. Her mother once told me Elyssa has been writing letters to you. She hoped to give them to you on your wedding night.”

Dryness parched Jason’s tongue. Elyssa was skipping steps even way back then, planning to marry someone who didn’t have any idea he was supposed to be involved. “I never knew. Why didn’t she —”

“Because it wasn’t the time, and because she wants you to take the first step when you both are of age.”

Tears welling in his eyes, Jason nodded. Elyssa’s signature statement rang in his mind.
Lead the way, warrior.
Now it made more sense than ever.

His father tightened his hold on Jason’s shoulder. “For now, I advise you not to say anything else about it. I think she didn’t want to go to the grave without ever giving you a hint about the way she feels, but it would only further embarrass her if you bring it up again now. If you are of the same mind, you would have to wait a few years anyway. Just be the gallant warrior the Creator has called you to be, and all will be well.”

“I understand.” Jason looked at the finger she had kissed, the finger that might one day wear a ring, which would signify another covenant, the ultimate covenant between two people. Would he make that covenant with Elyssa? Maybe. But for now he would honor the one he had just made, and he would do everything in his power to make sure it was unnecessary. If someone had to die to rescue the slaves, it would be Jason Masters.

fifteen

 

X
enith flew into the castle’s entryway and landed on the wooden floor, scratching the surface as she ran to a stop. Not daring to take a breath, she looked around the spacious chamber. Father had mentioned this place, but only in the vaguest terms. He usually finished with “You would have to see it to understand.” He was right. From the murals to the marble columns to the reflective floor in the corridor, the castle of the white dragon was magnificent.

“You seem frightened,” Cassabrie said from her back. “Awestruck.” As Xenith took in the splendor, a breathy sound reached her ears, gentle sighs blended with quiet weeping. “Do you hear that?”

“I do.” Cassabrie appeared in front of her as she pointed toward a dark corner of the room where a girl sat in a chair with her back to them. “Come. She is the one we’re looking for. Starlight has told me her tale.”

As Cassabrie hurried toward the girl, Xenith beat her wings to keep from shuffling across the wood. The quieter the better. Although the entry was wide open, the great white dragon might be angry at an unannounced visit.

Cassabrie glided to the other side of the chair and knelt in front of the girl. “Hello, Petra.”

Xenith extended her neck, curling it so she could see Petra’s face. Dressed in a heavy cloak open at the collar and thick trousers, she sat with slumped shoulders. Tear tracks stained her cheeks, and her eyes glistened.

“Why are you so sad?” Cassabrie asked.

Petra signed with her fingers, a language Xenith knew well from several months of having the kind girl in her parents’ service. “They left me behind,” her fingers said. “They think I can’t do anything, just because I can’t speak. But I can help.”

Xenith opened her mouth to translate, but Cassabrie replied too quickly.

“Of course you can help. That’s why I came here. I will take you to the Southlands, where you can help me do something so important it might very well save all of Starlight.”

Petra’s fingers spelled out her words more slowly this time. “Why would an angel want to use someone like me? Aren’t you powerful enough to do it yourself?”

Smiling, Cassabrie glanced at Xenith as she replied. “As many times as I have visited you at night and told you otherwise, are you still convinced that I am an angel?”

Petra nodded. “I think I have figured it out,” her fingers said. “I saw other angels here, so I think I died, and now I’m in heaven. I was just a ghost, and they put me back in my body. I don’t understand that part, but I do understand that Arxad and the others left me, because they are waiting for the white dragon to tell me that I’m dead and can’t leave heaven.”

Cassabrie caressed Petra’s arm. “If I take you to the Southlands, will you be convinced that you’re not dead?”

Nodding again, Petra spelled out, “But not that you’re not an angel.”

“I was once called to be an angel. We’ll see if I’ll have another chance.” Cassabrie laid a hand on Petra’s chest. “To make things easier for both of us, I am going to enter your body. You will carry me with you, and I will be able to speak to you without anyone else hearing me, and you can answer with your hands. That will allow us to be silent as we converse. Do you understand?”

Petra nodded once more.

“Then will you grant me permission to enter? The process will be uncomfortable at first, but the feeling won’t last long.”

Petra spelled out, “Go ahead. I will always trust you.”

Cassabrie glanced at Xenith again, the green in her ghostly eyes dimming. “I will do anything to keep that trust.” Her glowing hand shifted to Petra’s collar. Then, her body stretched out and poured in underneath Petra’s tunic.

Petra stiffened. Her eyes grew wide. Her body trembled, as if assaulted by a bitter wind.

“Are you all right?” Xenith asked.

Shaking her head, Petra stood and pulled her cloak close to her body as she moaned softly.

“Maybe I can help.” Xenith exhaled through mouth and nostrils. Spreading out her arms, Petra closed her eyes and let the warm air flow over her body. Her shivering eased. Then, her eyes opened wide again, and she stepped out of Xenith’s jets. Sweat beaded on her forehead. She opened her cloak and flapped the material, drawing in cooler air. Finally, after nearly a minute, she settled and relaxed.

“Is she inside you?” Xenith asked.

Petra nodded and spelled out, “Now Cassabrie wants me to get the crystal and something else, some kind of box. She hid the crystal near the portal.” She scurried to a dim corner of the room and picked up a black box, small enough to carry in her palm. “And here is the box.”

Xenith stared. How could one human dwell inside another human? “Is Cassabrie speaking to your mind?”

Nodding again, Petra tucked the box under her arm and spoke with her fingers more quickly than ever. “She said we should hurry. The men you saw at the portal won’t stay asleep for long.”

“Then let us go.” Xenith lowered herself to her belly. “Climb up and hold on tightly. I hope I can give you a smooth ride, but if the wall guardians try to stop me, hang on for dear life.”

Koren guided Exodus southward past the barrier wall, her focus set on the Zodiac’s twelve spires. They shone like gold against the purple backdrop, a sure sign that dawn approached. Trisarian hung low in the western sky, its lower arc brushing the treetops in the distance.

It had been a long, lonely night floating above the flower-speckled meadow, and the moons had been her only company. When Trisarian appeared at midnight on the eastern horizon, the great moon began its long journey across the entire sky, chasing the three lesser moons that sank out of sight soon after Trisarian rose. Dozens of shooting stars painted the heavenly canvas with white and yellow arcs, while nettle birds flew here and there, glowing green until the energy they had absorbed during their daytime slumber wore off. A vog had prowled the river’s edge for hours, splashing in the water with its huge hairy paws as it tried to catch a fish it could crush with its powerful jaws and sharp teeth, unaware that a Starlighter watched its movements from a safe height, for even a vog’s keen night vision could not detect a dark sphere hovering silently above.

Koren drove Exodus forward, wide awake in spite of not sleeping at all. At first, she had thought that her own light had kept her awake, but as she stayed quiet, Exodus dimmed, finally blinking out, taking away all light and heat. Still, although she stayed warm in her cloak, sleep never came.

Keeping the sphere dark with her silence, she floated over the spires and descended toward the Zodiac’s portico. Trisarian’s waning light revealed a woman wearing a skirt stealing across the cobblestones toward the Zodiac, a shawl covering her shoulders and head.

Koren lowered the star to within twenty feet of the road. Madam Orley? Yes! It was Madam Orley!

Madam stopped at one of the portico’s columns and peered around it, as if hiding in wait. With one firm hand clutching a book, she didn’t appear to be frightened, though the wrinkles in her brow revealed a good deal of worry.

Koren took in a deep breath. Speaking would probably light up the star and startle Madam, but it had to be done. “Madam Orley?” Exodus slowly brightened. “Madam Orley, it’s me, Koren.”

“I came here to see you.” Madam emerged from her hiding place. “I overheard you talking to Hyborn about meeting here at dawn.”

Koren floated closer but stayed about ten feet from the ground, still mindful of Brinella’s warning to keep her distance. “What do you need?”

“First of all, thank you for sending Tibalt. He isn’t much help with housework, but he knows a great deal about the Code.” Madam gestured with the book. “It was supposed to go to Stephan, but since he died, I kept it.”

“Yes,” Koren said, “I remember.”

“Tibalt pointed out this passage to me.” Madam opened the book to a page near the end and began to read. “ ‘Like a guiding star, the Creator’s word brings light to the soul. It ignites a flame within those who take it into their hearts. Like a refining fire, it burns away all that is impure. Those who seek cleansing will come to the light, and those who love darkness will try to extinguish the guiding star.’ “ She closed the book and slid it into her pocket. “Tibalt and I think you are shining that light, and some of our own people will try to destroy you. I have heard the grumbling already.”

“Do you mean Yeager?”

She nodded. “But he isn’t the only one. Some are old enough to remember Cassabrie, the first Starlighter. She didn’t float around inside a sphere, but she did cause a lot of trouble. She wasn’t shy about telling people what they ought to be doing, and most folks don’t like that. It didn’t take long before she had to go into hiding. Plenty of people were willing to turn her in to Magnar.”

“So is that why you came? To warn me to be careful?”

“That, and …” She withdrew a folded parchment from her skirt pocket. “I was wondering if you could tell me what happened to my daughter, Agatha. Since you’re a Starlighter, I thought you might be able to tell the tale.”

Koren glanced at the parchment, but it was too far away to see any details.

A tear trickling down her cheek, Madam continued. “I now think that she has died, but I was hoping you could tell me. As I’m sure you remember, she was promoted just before you came to us, and”—she held up the parchment—“and I received a letter, but I wonder now if the letter is fraudulent.”

As warmth flowed into Koren’s body, a stream of words flooded her mind. “Oh, Madam, I do have a tale for you.” She spread out her arms, fanning her cloak. “Agatha, precious daughter of Constance and Dominic Milton Orley, loved the sciences, especially those that revealed the mysteries of the human body.”

A girl appeared next to Madam Orley. Sitting at a desk, she wrote in a huge book, a wavering candle near her elbow providing light. With dark hair and a bloodstained tunic and skirt, she appeared to be about fourteen years old.

“Agatha often worked in the butcher shop, which helped her learn about the internal organs and muscular and skeletal structures of animals. That study caused her to seek more knowledge from her father, who allowed her to watch surgeries. She then wrote down everything she learned and drew sketches of human anatomy.”

Madam knelt next to Agatha’s image, her hand trembling as she reached up and caressed the phantom girl’s cheek.

“One evening during exam time,” Koren continued, “Arxad visited the students, a rare event, for priests of the Zodiac are usually the ones who are visited by those in need, not the other way around.”

The scene changed. Agatha, now wearing a clean skirt and tunic, sat upright in a chair. Arxad bobbed his head in front of her as if studying her eyes. “Her test scores are exactly what I had hoped,” he said. “She will receive a Promotion.”

Arxad led Agatha away, walking in place as if floating a few inches off the cobblestones. The book and pedestal from the Basilica theater room appeared, and Arxad halted next to them. “I chose this one for Promotion myself,” he said in the dragon language. “She is proficient in medicine. Her teacher seemed curious as to why I would select a student with such high scores, but he did not verbalize his question.”

Magnar shuffled into view, his eyes fiery. “Have you completed the preparations?”

“She has already had her time at the Reflections Crystal.” Arxad presented a sheet of parchment in his clawed hand. “And here is her letter.”

Magnar let out a snort of contempt. “What does it say? I always find these amusing.”

Arxad drew the letter close to his eyes. “Dear Mother, I am happy in the Northlands with the great dragon king. Arxad told me I would learn more about medicine here, so I am looking forward to that. Papa will be proud of me when I discover the cure for the disease that now afflicts him. Please tell him that I will find it as soon as I can. I love you, Mama.”

Magnar laughed. “She is as idealistic as you are.”

“Perhaps we need more who embrace idealism.” Arxad touched the top of Agatha’s head. “This one is too pure and innocent to live among the corrupt.”

“And are you the arbiter of worthiness to live? Congratulations, Arxad. You are now sitting in the Creator’s judgment seat.”

Arxad snorted a plume of smoke. “Spoken by the one who consumes the innocent.”

“I am not the one who believes these vermin to be —”

“I know. I know. This is an old debate.” Arxad pushed Agatha toward Magnar. “Take her. She is yours now.” Agatha stumbled and fell in front of Magnar. Without another word, he snatched her with his claws and flew away.

Still on her knees, Madam Orley trembled, but she stayed quiet as she kept her stare locked where Agatha had fallen. A shining female form appeared, standing erect in that spot. Although composed of pure light instead of substance, she looked just like Agatha.

The surroundings altered from the Basilica theater room to the foyer at the Northlands castle. Arxad walked close to Agatha, his claws biting into the wooden floor. “Alaph will meet with you soon,” he said. “He will want you to choose a name that reflects your character. He has a list of qualities from which you may make a selection.”

“Just give me one that no one else wants.” As Agatha spoke, she faded, leaving only her lips visible. “I will be glad to take it. I would never want to cause a disruption.”

Arxad smiled. “There are several that fit you. Peaceable? Deference? Goodness?”

“Then if it pleases you …” She curtsied, bringing light to her form again. “I will choose Deference.”

Koren lowered her arms. The scene crumbled into shards of radiance that evaporated in the dawning light. “Agatha lives,” Koren said, “but not in bodily form. Arxad preserved her spirit, and now she serves the king of the Northlands in that state. I have seen her myself, though I didn’t know at the time that she was your daughter. She is happy and content, so I hope this news brings you comfort.”

Madam Orley rose to her feet and bowed her head. Sniffling, she spoke in between sobbing spasms. “I am … comforted … but I am … also confused … Why would Arxad … take my precious little one … to Magnar to be …” Her final word came out in a wail. “Eaten?”