Diviner (32 page)

“Hey! Sparky!” Tibalt waved from the ceiling. “Do you hear
my
voice?”

“What?” Hyborn reared up and looked at him. “Who are you?”

“You’ll find out.” Tibalt leaped, waving his arms like a madman as he shouted, “Catch me if you can!”

Jason lunged and rammed his blade into Hyborn’s underbelly, but it penetrated only a few inches between his rigid scales and stuck there. Hyborn slapped him with a foreleg, sending him sliding on his back.

Tibalt crashed onto the dragon’s neck. A spine pierced his shoulder and exited through his back. He wrapped both arms around Hyborn’s neck and cried out, “Finish this lizard off!”

Wagging his neck, Hyborn slung Tibalt back and forth.

“Hurry!” Tibalt called, his voice faltering. “This isn’t … as easy … as it looks.”

Jason leaped up and charged, but Hyborn’s tail swiped so close, a spine almost stabbed his leg. He jumped clear and backed away.

Elyssa ran to Jason’s side. “What do we do?”

Jason braced his legs as if ready to charge again. “I’ll have to jump in and grab the sword, but he’s thrashing like a flopping fish.”

She glanced at the passageway. Randall had just crawled out and was rising with his sword. “You’ll have help in a minute.”

“We don’t have a minute.” Jason lunged, but Hyborn slapped him with a wing, slinging him across the room. He hurtled toward the passage, colliding with Randall, and the two slammed into the stone.

Hyborn shot a ball of fire in Jason’s wake, but Randall threw himself and Jason out of the way just before the ball splashed on the stone. In a fluid motion, they rolled up to their feet and faced the dragon again.

Hyborn’s mouth erupted with a river of flames that swept the floor. Elyssa hopped over the expanding carpet of fire and kept hopping as the torrent continued. Jason, Randall, and Koren jumped as well, but Koren slowed her bounces, panting as she braced her side. The flames covered Zena, catching her clothes on fire.

Jason dashed over to Koren, scooped her into his arms, and began hopping from foot to foot. “Stop this madness! Can’t you see you’re killing your own?”

“Hyborn!” Koren shouted. “Stop the fire, spare my friends, and I will go willingly!”

Taushin nodded. “We accept.”

Hyborn extinguished the jet, breathing heavily as he growled through his words, “Come to me, Starlighter.”

“Give me one minute.” Koren wiggled down from Jason, then ran to Zena and beat out the flames with her hands.

Elyssa joined her, clutching her pendant. “Do you think we should try to heal her?”

Koren nodded. “She’s a slave who needs release. One of us could get a stardrop from—”

“No!” Zena rose to a sitting position, her dress so scorched, it flaked away from her blackened shoulders. She braced herself with her hands and climbed to her feet, her face a twisted mass of melted flesh. “I will not accept your pathetic mercy!”

As Elyssa and Koren stepped back, Zena batted her eyelids, briefly halting the smoke still rising from her sockets. “I cannot see at all now, my prince, but I am here to serve you in whatever way I can.”

Taushin snorted. “What good are you to me now? You are blind, crippled, worthless.”

“Allow me to show you that I can still do something worthwhile.” She dipped her knee into the shallowest of curtsies. “If it pleases you.”

“She can help me pull this sword out,” Hyborn said. “It is wedged between two scales. Then she can get this fool of a human off my neck.”

Taushin heaved an impatient sigh. “Let us get on with it.”

“I will try to hurry.” Zena extended an arm as she staggered.

Koren rushed to her side and grasped her other arm. “Let me help you.”

Zena scowled at her. With dark blood oozing from her eyes and hideous welts forming on her chin and cheeks, she looked like a risen corpse. “Why do you care, you annoying pest? I am your enemy.”

“Because there’s still a chance for you to change,” Koren said. “Appeal to Arxad. He is forgiving. He will —”

“Silence!” Zena pressed something into Koren’s hand. “Use your Starlighter gifts on someone else. There is no hope for me.” She jerked away and continued her staggering march.

“This way,” Hyborn said. “Another five paces.”

Zena groped for the sword until she grasped the hilt with both hands. “Are you ready?”

“I am ready. It will take a great deal of strength.”

“I think I have enough remaining.” Zena rammed the sword into his belly.

Hyborn roared in pain. His legs trembling, he lunged backwards, making Zena slide on the floor as he pulled her along. Then, her teeth clenched, she twisted the blade and jerked it out. “There. I have done what you asked.”

As fluid poured from Hyborn’s wound, he teetered from side to side. “You … you traitor!”

“Yes, Hyborn. I am a traitor.” Zena turned toward Taushin with a whisper so soft, Elyssa could barely hear it. “And I chose the wrong master.”

As Hyborn toppled to the side and crashed to the floor, Zena marched toward Taushin, the sword in hand. “Speak to me, my prince. Guide me to your presence.”

Taushin began shuffling backwards. “Come no closer. I cannot see you, but I can hear you. Beware of my flames.”

“I fear no flames.” With the sword raised, Zena ran toward Taushin in a stumbling, zigzagging path. Taushin blasted her with a ball of fire and set her entire body aflame.

Jason rushed to Hyborn. “Randall! Help me with Tibalt!”

“Cut the spine!” Elyssa called. “Then pull him off!”

Koren ran again to Zena, but the sorceress’s scorched body crumbled into ashes. Koren stopped and fell to her knees, weeping.

“What is happening?” Taushin asked, his eyebeams again sweeping the chamber. “Hyborn? Are you there?”

Elyssa pressed a finger to her lips and grabbed Randall’s sword. She skulked toward Taushin. Behind her, grunts and groans from Tibalt and the others concealed the sound of her padding steps.

Taushin backed away again. “I smell you, filthy human.” He beat his wings and flew into the air, his snout high as he circled the room.

“He’s sniffing for the exit,” Koren said. After a few seconds, Taushin found the hole and zipped through it.

Elyssa rushed back to Jason and Randall as they laid Tibalt gently on his side. They had already sliced away his shirt, exposing his pale, leathery skin. Blood trickled from near his collarbone down into a nest of gray chest hair. Like a curved dagger, the spine protruded several inches on both sides.

She touched his back near the point it exited. “That looks awful.”

“Well,” Tibalt said, his voice gravelly, “are you gonna get me one of those little fireballs or what? I like spicy food, and I have a hankerin’ for some right now.”

Elyssa handed the sword to Randall. “I’ll get it.”

“I don’t think there are any in the floor,” Jason said as he crouched at Tibalt’s side. “There are still some in the ceiling, but I don’t think you can reach.”

“Then I’ll need a boost.”

“Xenith should be there with her parents by now. Maybe she can help you and then fly you back.”

Randall sheathed his sword and jogged toward the passage. “I can’t let you go. There might still be trouble brewing there.”

“It’ll burn your hands,” Jason said.

Randall stopped at the stone and looked back. “If you can handle it, I can handle it.”

While Randall crawled through the gap, Koren sidled up to Elyssa and whispered, “You don’t have to go to the Northlands.”

Elyssa looked at her. “Why not?”

Koren showed Elyssa her fist, then slowly opened it. In her palm lay a finger, complete with two knuckles and sealed by thick stitches on one end.

Elyssa touched the middle section. The skin seemed pliable, not as stiff as she expected. “Is this what Zena gave you?”

Koren nodded. “It’s Cassabrie’s. If we can get this to Uriel, you’ll be able to stay here and heal as many people as you can.”

“Or at least stall the infection.”

“So we’ll get this finger to Arxad and …” Koren’s voice trailed off.

Elyssa cocked her head. “What’s wrong?”

“The string!” Koren’s voice spiked with energy. “We’re supposed to get the stitching string for Deference and Fellina!”

“Don’t worry about it.” Jason rose and joined them. “I saw Arxad flying out of the Zodiac like a lightning bolt. Deference probably told him she needed the string.”

Elyssa pushed her hair off her forehead. “Whew! That’s a relief.”

“Right. Cassabrie and I were walking to the Basilica, and …”

While Jason told the story, Elyssa tuned out the details. There was so much to talk about but so little time. Soon, they would all face death again together. They could tell stories to their hearts’ content later.

“So,” he continued, “Arxad flew out —”

“Jason.” Elyssa pinched his sleeve. “Will you sit with me for a minute?”

He glanced at Tibalt, who lay quietly on his side. “I guess he’ll be all right.”

“Go ahead,” Koren said as she knelt close to Tibalt. “I’ll stay here with him.”

Elyssa kept her hold on Jason’s sleeve and led him to the stone. She slid down its face and sat cross-legged in front of it. Jason joined her and copied her pose, his hands folded. With blood smears on his cheek and forehead, rips in his shirt and trousers, and a bruise painting his jaw purple, he looked like he had lost a fight with a bull. And who could tell how many more wounds ached under his clothes?

“So,” Jason said. “Did you want to talk about something?”

She touched his bruised jaw. “Are you in pain?”

“Quite a bit, but I’m trying to ignore it.” He gave her a dubious stare. “Is that what you wanted to talk about?”

“Not really.” She leaned against the stone. “Back home when we sat behind the roots of that fallen tree, if someone told you we would go through all this pain, what would you have done?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’d have to think about it.”

“Well, you probably have about three minutes to think and then three minutes to tell me.”

Jason pulled up his knees and rested his chin, staring straight ahead. Elyssa did the same. From where they sat, the incubator room spread out before them—Tibalt and Koren halfway between the center of the room and the right-hand wall, Zena’s ashes closer to the center, and a shaft of sunlight drawing a circle where Jason had landed on Hyborn. The dead dragon lay in a twisted heap a few steps from that spot.

“Petra’s dead,” she whispered. “Randall’s father, too. A terrible disease is about to strike every human on Starlight, and we think we have an army from Major Four marching toward us soon. If we can get word to them to stop so they can avoid the disease, the slaves won’t ever be set free, and everything we’ve done will be a waste. And even if they don’t come all the way here, they might get infected anyway. If they do come, they’ll be infected for sure, and when they go home, they’ll infect everyone on our world. That means every human on both planets will probably die.”

Pressing his lips together, Jason nodded. “That’s the most pessimistic outlook, but it’s a real possibility.”

Elyssa touched the floor. “Or else everyone could stay here and die, leaving Major Four untouched. That’s the other option.”

“So what’s the point? Why are you going over all the darkest scenarios?”

She waved her finger between them. “You and I might be the only two humans left in both worlds. We’re both immune. At least we think you are now because of the litmus finger … Well, and Cassabrie. That makes three of us.”

“Okay,” Jason said, nodding. “I’m getting the picture. No matter what happens, you and I have to survive.” “Or you and Cassabrie.”

Jason shifted forward, his gaze far away. “I don’t think Cassabrie will be around.”

Elyssa leaned closer, trying to gauge his expression. He seemed ready to cry. “What do you mean?”

As he turned toward her, his features sagged. “If you could’ve seen her …” His voice cracked, and he took a long breath as if to steady his emotions. “I think she’s going to resurrect Exodus or die trying. She’ll either be trapped inside or dead.”

Elyssa gazed into his sparkling eyes. The Starlighters really meant a lot to him. No wonder. They were amazing girls. But what did his love for them mean for the future, for the hopes of a Diviner who loved a conflicted warrior so much? Swallowing down her own emotions, she breathed a quiet, “I think I understand.”

After a few seconds of silence, Elyssa patted Jason’s knee. “So, back to my question. If you knew then what you know now, would you still have come to Starlight?”

“Without a doubt.” “Why?”

Jason pointed at Koren. “For her. For Cassabrie. For Solace, Oliver, and Basil.”

“And Wallace.”

“And Wallace and every slave on this world.” He shifted toward her, passion creeping into his voice. “When I sat under that fallen tree, I wanted to go to the dragon world because I was being hunted as a murderer and because Frederick was there. Sure, I thought it’d be great to bring the Lost Ones home. I wanted to be a hero. But I learned it’s not about me. It’s not about anyone being a hero.” He settled back against the stone. “It’s about freedom.”

Elyssa let his declaration sink in. Freedom. She and others had thrown that word around so many times, it seemed to have lost its meaning. She touched his knee again. “Do we really know what freedom’s all about?”

Jason looked straight ahead. “Well, we’re not free in Mesolantrum. Orion chases you like a cat after a canary.

My family lives in a commune working their fingers raw, and for what? So the fat nobles can have more padding in their posteriors. Yet the nobles are slaves, too — slaves to their appetites, to their social status, and to their own self-image.”

Again she let his words settle. “You’ve been thinking about this for a while, haven’t you?” He nodded but stayed quiet.

“Then, if even the nobles are slaves, how can anyone have real freedom?”

Jason pointed at Koren. She sat next to Tibalt, combing her fingers through his stringy hair and singing a quiet song. As she sang, blood trickled down the side of her tunic.

“Like that,” he whispered.

“So to be free from slavery …”

“You have to be willing to die for others. Fear of death is the final slave master. Most people will do anything to avoid death, including letting others suffer or die. They’re just as enslaved as Petra was, but now she’s free, and they’re not.”