Liberator (15 page)

Without another word, Gamal took to the air. Beth shuffled toward the man leaning against the column, latched on to him with her foreclaws, and dragged him back into the open. He groaned and twitched but little else.

Constance whispered, “Don’t look, Deference. I think this is going to end badly.”

“My eyes are closed.”

By the time Beth stopped, Taushin and Mallerin had begun their descent, Gamal flying on Taushin’s opposite side. Beth dropped the man to the cobblestones and rolled him a few feet away. With a great heave, she blasted a barrage of ice crystals over his body, instantly coating him in white.

Constance gasped. Stories of such ice abounded in legends from the Northlands, but no one here had ever seen it. And now a human lay in an icy blanket, no longer groaning or moving at all.

As the three dragons beat their wings to land, Beth looked at Constance and gestured with a foreleg. “Check him for life.”

Her legs shaking, Constance walked to the man’s side, knelt on her scorched knees, and touched his wrist. His arm was as stiff as the mainstay of a dragon wing, cold and lifeless, and a sheet of white ice coated his entire body.

“There is no need to check for a heartbeat,” Deference whispered. “He is dead.”

“Where are you?”

“I’m riding on your shoulders. It’s the easiest way to move without being seen. I can’t hold on to things for very long, but I can stay put without a problem.”

Now on the ground, Taushin drew near, his head high as he cast blue eyebeams on Mallerin as she surveyed the portico area.

Beth extended her neck, lifting her head higher than Taushin’s. “What brings you here, presumed king of the Southlands dragons?”

“I come with news that is crucial for you to hear.”

“You flew into danger to deliver news that will benefit me?” Beth’s purring voice seemed to glide through the air. “Taushin, from what Gamal tells me, you have no capacity for unselfish acts.”

Taushin’s brow bent. “Perhaps that is true, but that is the way for dragons and humans alike. No one is capable of true selfless sacrifice.”

“The world has proven that time and again.” Beth nodded at him. “Go on.”

“Cassabrie, the greatest of all Starlighters, will come here. She resides within Exodus, the once fallen star, so you will be unable to stop her.”

“Stop her from doing what?” Beth asked.

A thump sounded from the Zodiac, drawing Constance’s attention. Maybe a slave had staggered in and fallen through the entryway’s open floor. In any case, the dragons didn’t seem to notice.

Taushin spread out his wings. “With a wave of her arms and with her mesmerizing voice, she can hypnotize any dragon who looks upon her. She plans to put you in a trance and destroy you.”

“Destroy us? How?”

“Are you unaware of the legends? The star’s membrane is coated with energy particles that will eat through your bodies faster than a whip can draw blood. One touch from her spherical chamber will dissolve you to a pile of white powder in mere seconds.”

Beth looked at Gamal, her expression dour. “What say you?”

“It is true,” Gamal said with a slight bow of his head. “The previous time we visited to bring justice, Exodus was safely stored in the Northlands mountains, so I did not warn you about it. If a powerful Starlighter is coming within the star, the danger is great indeed.”

Beth focused again on Taushin. “I sense malice. You bring a solution that will benefit you and prevent our enforcement. You seek to avoid punishment and extend your rule.”

“Of course.” Taushin bowed his head. “I did not deny any selfish intent.”

Beth’s expression took on a skeptical aspect. “Go on.”

“We have a device in the Zodiac that will rob Cassabrie of energy. Allow me free access here until she arrives, and I will see to it that she is rendered harmless.”

“And what of our enforcement? You know we cannot leave your race unpunished.”

“I will tell you where my fellow dragons are hiding. You may exact your punishment there. I ask only that you spare a few of us to continue the dragon race.”

“A few?” Beth’s eyes narrowed. “How few?”

“Myself, my mother and her mate, Arxad and his mate, and their daughter, Xenith.”

“Six dragons to propagate the species.” Beth’s skeptical stare deepened. “Why these six?”

Constance raised her brow. The same question crossed her own mind. Why would Taushin want to save the dragons who weren’t his allies and allow those loyal to him to be destroyed?

“I need experience and counsel from the wisest leaders,” Taushin said. “And I covet Xenith as my mate. She is strong and intelligent, a fit vessel for propagation.”

“A convenient answer.” Beth looked at Gamal. “Do you have insight?”

“His choices are reasonable.” Gamal studied Taushin. “I want to know more about the device that will drain the Starlighter. Because of our war with these dragons, we failed to complete our mission to find and restore the Reflections Crystal. This device Taushin mentions sounds as if it might have properties similar to the crystal.”

Taushin cast his eyebeams on Gamal. “You have a sharp mind. The device is, indeed, the Reflections Crystal. Once I have destroyed Cassabrie, you may take it with you. I will have no further need of it. If you reject this offer, of course, I cannot do anything to protect you from her power.”

“Gamal,” Beth said, “is Taushin lying?”

The end of Gamal’s tail twitched. “Every word he has spoken is true, though, as did you, I detect deep malice. I would not trust him.”

“I rely on you for discernment, not counsel.” Beth shifted toward Dalath. “What do you say?”

Dalath’s blue eyes gleamed. “Kill the infected humans and lead the Darksphere army to Taushin’s dragons.

Since we will be outnumbered, we might need the humans’ help. If Taushin proves to be untrustworthy, his company of six will not be able to withstand our fury.”

Beth nodded. “I agree. Begin killing the humans at once. Start with the oldest and most infirm.”

Constance raised a hand. “No! Don’t! How can you speak of justice when you kill the innocent?”

“Innocence is irrelevant,” Beth said. “The disease has no cure, so we are merely shortening their suffering. At the same time, we are protecting those who are coming to rescue those who remain. In a sense, we will be dispensing showers of mercy.”

“But there is
hope
for a cure. We can wait until—”

“Hope for what has never existed is a man in chains waiting to fall up into the sky. Like gravity itself, the law is unchangeable and unforgiving.” Beth sprayed icy mist over Constance’s face. “Attempts to delay the inevitable are simply denials of reality and a waste of time. If you continue pursuit of your so-called hope, you will learn a lesson in the law’s merciful ways before the others do.”

Constance brushed the ice crystals away. What could be done? If this dragon carried out her threat, hope really would die. Mallerin and Taushin whispered to each other, but they seemed unwilling to stop the plan or express an opinion.

“Mother,” Deference whispered. “Take me to the Zodiac’s doors. I think I saw something.”

“Beth,” Dalath said, “since this human heard our plans regarding Cassabrie, she is likely to try to warn her.”

“An excellent point.” Beth aimed her snout at Constance. “It seems that you will be first after all.”

Constance stiffened. With her scorched legs, trying to run away would be futile. “Go, Deference,” she whispered. “Use the ice to shield yourself from view.”

“But, Mother, I —”

“Go!”

An icy spray coated Constance’s vision. Frigid cold plunged through her skin and into her bones. A sense of falling took over, then perfect whiteness.

R
andall jerked on the rope. The knot was good and tight, fastened securely to a lantern bracket embedded in the lower level stone wall. With the rest of the rope coiled over his shoulder, he reeled it out as he walked around the sharp stakes under the false floor of the Zodiac’s entry corridor. Nearby, a dead dragon lay on the floor. Although he had no ability to interfere, his odor was bad enough to gag a vulture.

Above, the floor lay open, its two panels hanging loosely under the sides of the hall. He let the hefty rope drop to the stakes and held on to one end. Until a few minutes ago, this rope had hung from the Basilica’s bell tower, but a quick stroke with his blade gave it a new job to do.

More lantern brackets lined the wall in the upper corridor, spaced apart evenly. He aimed at the bracket closest to the dome room and threw the rope. The end
looped over the target, catching it perfectly, and fell back to the lower level. He grabbed the end and pulled it tight. This would do just fine.

He detached his scabbard from his belt and tossed it into the dome room on the upper level. It clanked, then settled inside. Randall flinched and waited in silence. No dragon darkened the entry door above.

With one foot on the wall, he grasped the rope with both hands and climbed. When he reached the hanging floor panel, he set both feet on it and pressed the panel against the wall, then walked across it parallel to the wall and toward the dome room, taking in rope as he traveled.

His leg muscles cramped, and his arms throbbed. The dome room was almost within reach. Just a few more steps.

When he came to the end of the corridor, he leaned against the wall to his left and studied his position. He faced the right-hand wall with both feet planted on the panel. The right edge of the threshold to the dome room lay about eight feet behind him and four feet above. A push with his legs and a lunging reach should allow him to grab the threshold, but failure could mean a nasty fall and a lot of noise.

He took in a deep breath. It was now or never.

Keeping one hand on the rope, he bent his knees, thrust away from the wall, and reached for the threshold. His fingers caught the edge but slipped away. When he swung back to the panel, his shoulder slammed against it.

As he hung on, cringing, the thud reverberated throughout the corridor. A light flickered somewhere in the passage, fleeting and fast—maybe one of the lanterns disturbed by a draft.

When the noise settled, Randall again rested, his newly aching shoulder against the back wall and his feet against the panel. So far, no one had come to investigate. Trying again might work, but it might also make things worse.

“Psst. Randall. Can I help?”

He looked up at the doorway to the dome room. Deference stood there waving her arms to stay visible. Her glow washed over him, making him feel exposed and vulnerable. “How can you help? You can’t pull me up there, can you?”

“I can have an effect on physical things for a few seconds. No more.”

“That might be enough.”

Deference knelt close to the edge. “What do you want me to do?”

“When I push back and reach for the threshold you’re standing on, grab my wrist and make sure I get a good hold. Are you strong enough to do that?”

“I hope so. I’ll do my best.”

“That’ll have to do.”

“If it’s all the same to you, I think we should hurry.” Deference’s voice shook with emotion. “The white dragons are getting ready to kill everyone. They already killed my mother.”

“They killed Madam Orley?”

As Deference nodded, a sparkle gleamed in her eye.

“Those monsters!” Randall squeezed the rope, wishing it were a dragon’s throat. “I’m really sorry about your mother, but I’ll do what I can to stop them from killing the others.”

“Okay.” The tremor in her voice eased. “I hope you can.”

“I’ll do my best.” Randall bent his knees again. “Here I come.”

With a hearty shove, he launched away from the wall. He reached for the threshold, but this time his fingers barely touched the edge. A strong grip squeezed his wrist, and he shot upward several inches. He grasped the threshold with one hand, released the rope, and thrust his other hand to the ledge. Something grabbed the back of his tunic and pulled, helping him climb the rest of the way.

Now on all fours, he looked for his phantom helper, but she was invisible again. “Thank you,” he said between gasps for breath. “I wouldn’t have made it without you.”

She appeared on the floor well within the dark room, rising from a sitting position. “I fell when I had to let go.”

“Keep moving. You’re the only light in there.”

While Deference waved her arms, Randall climbed to his feet, picked up his scabbard, and looked all around for any sign of dragons. Even though they were in a hurry, rushing into danger would ruin everything. “Again, I’m really sorry about your mother.”

Deference faded away. “Thank you.” Sparks from her voice drizzled to the floor. “I’ll see her again someday.”

He attached his scabbard to his belt and skulked farther into the room. “Do you know anything about this place?”

Deference walked at his side, enough movement to cast her glow several feet ahead. “I came here for my Promotion. This is where Arxad told us to write a letter to our closest loved one, and then he gave us something to drink that made me dizzy. I don’t remember anything after that.”

Randall touched a column that appeared to support the ceiling. If this room had a dome, the room underneath had to be a circle, but darkness hid any other columns that would have given away the location of the center. “Do you know where the Reflections Crystal is?”

She pointed. “It should be straight ahead. It was glowing when I came for my Promotion, but I think that’s because the dome was open a little ways. It brightened when Arxad spoke something to it, but I don’t know how it works.”

“Jason told me about that. It brightens when you say something true to it and darkens when you lie.”

“Then if you want more light, maybe you could tell it something true.”

“I think we’ll just use your glow. I don’t want to alert anyone. We’ll stay quiet while we’re close.”

As they walked, a sphere came into view atop a head-high pedestal. Twinkling dots covered the dark surface, like stars in the night sky. Deference stopped, shutting off her light and casting their surroundings in blackness. Above, more dots spread across the ceiling, curving from one edge of the room to the other. The entire chamber looked like a miniature world with stars glowing from horizon to horizon.

Randall searched for any design that looked like a spear. To his right, a line of bright stars ran from the center toward the edge of the room where two stars on each side of the end formed a point. That had to be it.

Randall walked in that direction, intentionally making enough noise with his shoes to signal his movement. Deference joined him again, and her glow illuminated their path.

When he reached the column at the end of the spear, he touched the surface, smooth and cool, probably marble. “I think we’re far enough away to talk now.”

“That’s good.” Deference waved a hand, giving light to the column. A wooden handle protruded on the side facing away from the crystal. Barely long enough to grab with one hand, it would have been nearly impossible to find in the darkness.

Randall wrapped his fingers around it and tried to push it to one side, then the other, but it wouldn’t budge. When he pulled down, it moved slowly, as if attached to a chain that lifted a heavy weight. A click sounded, then a low grinding noise, but the room stayed dark.

“That’s not the dome.” Deference ran toward the entry corridor, her aura illuminating her wake. “Back in a minute.”

As the room darkened again, Randall kept his hand on the lever. Xenith had warned that this might not be the correct one, so there was no need for alarm … yet.

A few seconds later, Deference’s light appeared. She glided slowly, her finger tapping her chin. “You closed the floor back there. Maybe you should leave it that way in case you have to get out fast.”

“Good idea.” As they walked around the room’s perimeter, Deference’s glow guided their way. When they reached the next column, Randall spotted another lever, this one shorter and metallic. He grasped it and pulled down. It moved to a lower position easily, then slid completely out of its socket.

A new grinding noise erupted, this one from above. A light appeared in a hole at the apex, gradually expanding.
The Reflections Crystal brightened at the same rate, as if absorbing energy from the outside. As light filled the room, Randall looked at the lever in his hand. Notched on two sides, it looked like a long key.

“Something’s wrong,” Deference said. “I feel something pulling me toward the crystal.”

“Can you resist?”

Her nodding head appeared. “I’d better not get any closer, though.”

Randall slid the key into his pocket and scanned the area. With dragons outside, going out the front door wasn’t an option. “Is there a back door, another way to get out of here?”

“I think so. Arxad led me out, but I don’t remember how. I was so dizzy.”

“I’m going to test this thing.” Randall strode toward the crystal, but its stinging radiance kept him three paces away. Holding a hand up to shield his eyes, he searched for Deference, but she was nowhere in view. The brilliant light was probably washing out her glow.

Above, a white dragon flew over the widening hole. It glanced in without landing. Soon the opening would be big enough for it to fly through.

“Deference,” Randall called, “where are you?”

“Still next to the column.”

“Speak loudly enough for the crystal to hear you.”

“Okay, I’ll try.”

“Is there an exit besides the one in front, a place a human can walk?”

“I told you,” Deference shouted, “I don’t remember.” The crystal dimmed, relieving some of the sting.

“You do remember,” Randall said. “It’s locked somewhere in your brain. Think. Where did Arxad lead you?”

The white dragon landed on the edge of the widening hole. It snapped its head back as if recoiling from the stinging radiance.

“Arxad touched something that opened a sliding door. It was wide enough for him to fit through, but just barely.”

The crystal brightened, increasing the pain. The dragon on the roof called out, “I think someone is down there, but there is danger. Guard the front door. I will try to enter from here.”

Randall clutched his sword’s hilt. Fighting a dragon alone certainly wasn’t his first choice, but it might end up being his only one. He scanned the perimeter wall. Shelves, benches, and unidentifiable wooden structures interrupted the space. Only four blank spots were of sufficient size for a dragon, and a mural had been drawn on each one — various landscapes that resembled the horizons around the Zodiac. “Did you see mountains?”

“No.”

The crystal grew brighter. The dragon flew into the room and landed next to the column nearest to the main entrance. Extending his neck, he took a step closer and bellowed, “Who is there?”

Randall drew his sword but kept his focus on Deference. “Did you see a forest?”

“No.”

The crystal brightened yet again.

“A river flowing into the barrier wall?”

The dragon lunged, but a new pulse of brightness made him stop just a few steps away. “Cease this activity immediately, or I will freeze you.”

The grinding noise continued. As the hole above widened enough to reveal Solarus, the crystal stayed bright. The white dragon crept closer, blinking. “You were wise to stop at my command. Now tell me—”

“There
was
a river!” Deference said. “And a wall!”

“Let’s go! Hurry!” Randall sheathed his sword and ran to the river mural and rubbed his hand across the design, slapping prominent parts of the drawing. “Come on! Open! There has to be a way!”

Deference ran around the perimeter wall toward Randall. “I’m coming!”

“Stop!” the dragon shouted.

A wave of ice spilled over Randall, covering him in a frosty coat. The cold stiffened his arms and numbed his fingers. Lifting a heavy hand, he slapped the wall again, but it felt as if he were swinging a sledge hammer.

“I’m here,” Deference whispered. “I’ll look for a switch.”

The dragon shuffled closer. “That was a warning. Stay where you are, or I will kill you.”

“I think I found it!” Deference said.

Gathering all his strength, Randall slammed his shoulder against the wall. It slid open, and he toppled through. Sitting with his hands propping his body, he looked back. The dragon stomped toward him, rearing his head. Another storm of ice erupted from his mouth, but as the leading edge of the storm splashed over Randall, the door slid closed, cutting off the flow.

Daggers of frigid cold plunged into Randall’s body, shooting icy chills through his heart, up his spine, and out to his head, fingers, and toes.

He fell to his back. Ice crystals crunched all around. Although freezing cold drilled to his core, no shivers broke out. His muscles had locked in place.

Something thumped on the door. “Human, if you are still alive, hear me. Without help, you will surely die. The ice will slow your heart until it stops. If you are able, tell me how to open this door, and I will spare your life, at least for the time being.”

Randall tried to open his mouth, but his lips had frozen together. Even drawing in breath was a chore. He couldn’t tell the dragon anything, even if he wanted to.

“I assume by your silence that you are either dead or incapacitated. So be it.” The sound of swishing followed, then the fading scratch and thump of a shuffling dragon.

Randall’s heart pounded—once, twice, three times. Its slow cadence sounded like the rhythm of a funeral march. Soon it would all be over, but maybe the plan had worked. Maybe the dome would stay open and draw Cassabrie, and she would use her power to stop the cold-hearted dragons before they could kill too many slaves.

Closing his eyes, he imagined the process, three white dragons spewing frosty death on diseased bodies. They would become just like him, frozen mummies without hope.