– M
Randall blinked at the partial signature. M? Who could M be? The only M around was Magnar, but he wouldn’t have written this. The author had to be a soldier, someone who could assemble troops. And since the note had been placed well within the dungeon, that someone had access to the key.
Randall stuffed the note into his pocket. The existence of a mysterious ally wasn’t exactly a comforting revelation. How many others now knew the secrets he had tried to keep? At least this ally would come to light soon. For now, he had to get back to his own plan.
Looking down at his clothes, he checked for any telltale sign of his hidden photo gun. Strapped to his thigh with a thin band, it seemed invisible beneath his baggy trousers.
He patted his belt where his scabbard should have been. Promising Orion he would leave his sword behind might have been a mistake, but it was the only way to get the coward to show up alone. Even then, the new governor likely wouldn’t keep his promise. His archers would be somewhere nearby, bows strung and arrows ready.
Taking in a deep breath and holding it, Randall listened. Quiet footsteps sounded, someone of less-than-heavy build crunching evergreen needles nearby. Randall stepped away from the gate and looked at a path that led over a grassy hill and toward the palace. Orion approached. Although concealed by a long, hooded cloak, his tall, lanky body and constant glancing from side to side gave him away.
Randall sneered. Those who have earned no trust rarely trust anyone else. In spite of the archers’ steady aim, Orion obviously feared an ambush. When he arrived at the dungeon gate, he pushed back his hood, revealing his hawkish eyes and nose. “What is your message?” he whispered.
“First,” Randall said, gesturing with his eyes toward the forest, “send your archers away. You alone are experienced enough to understand the ramifications of” — he leaned closer—“a draconic presence in our world.”
Their stares met. Randall firmed his jaw, matching Orion’s stony expression. Playing this game meant striking a confident pose, assuming a stance of superior Knowledge and position. He cocked his head and put on a half smirk. “Having dragon alliances puts one in control of any situation, don’t you think?”
Orion’s facial muscles relaxed. He nodded and walked a few paces down the path. “Archers!” he called. “Leave us! I am safe!”
Rustling noises erupted from the forest along with the tromping of feet. When all was quiet, Orion walked toward the dungeon, pushing a hand into a cloak pocket and withdrawing a photo gun. Stopping just out of reach, he aimed it at Randall. “While it is true that dragon allies are of great value on the battlefield, they are not so helpful when absent.”
Randall forced himself not to blink. “What makes you think they’re absent?”
“Shall I fire into the dungeon? That should blow up the only potential hiding place and likely disable any dragon allies who might be there.”
Stepping aside, Randall spread an arm toward the open gate. “Feel free to shoot, but you and I both know how long it takes your gun to re-energize. I will be able to disarm you during that time.” He faced Orion and spread out both arms. “Or you could just shoot me. The dragons will kill you before you fire another shot. You will never learn the secrets I hold, secrets that could give you control over not only Mesolantrum but also all of Major Four.” He half closed one eye. “Think of it. Viktor Orion would have the power to extend his goodwill throughout the world, granting favor to those who deserve it, the faithful followers who believe in his sacred crusades. Not only that, the great governor could extend that beneficent hand through space, take the Lost Ones into his protective arms, and bring them home to the shouts and adulation of every man, woman, and child on both worlds.”
Randall lifted his brow, signaling his desire for a response. He had practiced that speech for two hours, and it seemed perfect, but would Orion take the bait?
Orion lowered the gun, his expression willing, yet skeptical. “What do you want me to do?”
Randall clenched a fist. “Assemble our military forces. Every able man, whether active or retired, must be called to duty, including those in neighboring regions. There is a portal that will take us to a land in Dracon’s northern climes, and we will be able to attack the dragon realm by surprise, rescue our people, and make sure no foul beast ever crosses to our world again.”
“Why would dragons betray their own kind?”
Randall took a step forward. “A usurper has taken control there, and the deposed king wishes to restore his rule. If we help him, after we succeed, the high priest of that land will close every portal forever, and both worlds will live in peace.”
Eyeing Randall carefully, Orion matched his forward step. Now within an arm’s reach, Orion laid the gun in his palm and extended it toward Randall, but as he did, he whispered, “Take my weapon, Randall, so your dragon friends will believe that I am going along with your plan.”
Randall glanced from Orion’s eyes to the photo gun and back. Moving slowly, he slid his fingers under the gun and lifted it from Orion’s palm. “Why are you doing this?”
“I am an expert in reading a man’s heart, and I am certain of your good intentions. But hear me. You cannot trust these dragons. You lack the experience to consider all the possibilities. Have you thought of the ramifications of sending our entire military to Dracon? Not only will we be vulnerable for attack and takeover by the dragons, we could be marching into a trap that will kill every soldier we have.”
Randall ached to look back at the dungeon, but he kept his stare fixed on Orion. He had a good point. Although Arxad seemed honest and reliable, Magnar was far from either. Maybe the bigger, stronger dragon had intentions beyond Arxad’s knowledge. “Your reasoning is valid,” he replied, his voice even quieter than Orion’s. “What do you suggest?”
“Allow me to speak to your dragon friends so that I may propose sending a squadron to investigate. They will report their findings, and if they corroborate the dragons’ claims, then we will send whatever forces are necessary.”
“A test makes sense,” Randall said, “but the dragons are nervous, too. They’re taking the risk that you might conquer their world and not give it back to the deposed king. How can I convince them that you’re trustworthy?”
“I brought a token of my goodwill, and I offer it without any conditions attached.” Orion raised a hand and snapped his fingers.
A new rustling sounded from the forest. Randall took a step back, reaching for the sword that wasn’t at his hip.
Orion half smiled. “Easy, boy. I sent my archers away, but I said nothing to my personal bodyguard. Do not fear.”
Seconds later, a broad-shouldered man lumbered toward them, cradling a woman in his arms. Dressed in white silk, she appeared to be sleeping peacefully, but shadows hid her face.
“Lay her here,” Orion said, “then go to your quarters. I will see myself home.”
The man laid her gently on the path, then, clutching a sword hilt at his hip, bowed to Orion and marched away.
Orion swept an arm toward the woman. “I found your mother, and I now restore her to you.”
“Mother!” Randall rushed to her, knelt at her side, and set a hand on her cheek. “Mother, wake up. It’s me, Randall.”
Orion curled a hand and looked at his fingernails. “We gave her a mild sedative to help her rest. She will awaken soon.”
Randall shot him a hot glare. “If I find out you had anything to do with her imprisonment, I’ll …” He let the threat die on his lips. He had to control his temper. His mother was safe, at least for now. Inhaling slowly, he rose. “How did you know you needed my mother as a bargaining tool?”
“Bargaining tool?” Orion chuckled. “My dear Randall, I have given her to you freely. My bodyguard merely held her in the forest until I was sure it was safe to bring her out. Lady Moulraine has been my friend since childhood, and I would never want to see any harm come to her. If you are looking for an enemy, I suggest you turn your attention to D
rexel. When you told me about the note you found in his quarters, I conducted an investigation. My bodyguard found your mother bound and gagged in Bristol’s quarters, and you know who held Bristol’s leash. She was hungry and thirsty, but unharmed. I hope this gesture convinces you of my goodwill, at least enough to convey confidence to the dragons.”
“I see your point.” Randall slid his hands under his mother’s body and lifted her as he rose. “I will talk to the dragons.”
Sitting near a fire in Taushin’s quarters, Zena stirred the embers with a poker, giving the flames new life as they roasted a lamb on a rotating skewer. Taushin lay next to her with his head propped on her lap and his neck draped over her legs. His body stretched out to her side, shimmering black scales a stunning contrast against her silky white dress and the floor’s ivory tiles.
She stroked his scales with Cassabrie’s finger. It was such a delight to be able to see the details of the king’s room—marble floors, velvet tapestries, and ornate carvings in the hardwood walls depicting exotic, long-tailed birds, sleek cats, and huge beasts with woolly coats and long tusks. Surely Taushin deserved this opulence far more than did Magnar.
With her lack of clear vision, it had taken hours to remove Magnar’s personal belongings. She usually dared to use the finger only on rare occasions, believing the Starlighter’s body to be a slow-acting poison to her own flesh, but Taushin had assured her that more frequent touches wouldn’t bring great harm.
Now that she was able to see, one item caught her attention, a photograph of Magnar and Arxad hanging on the opposite wall, taken centuries ago when they were young and humans had such image-capturing equipment. Sitting side by side, they each wore metal collars and chains. Magnar must have kept that photograph to remind him of the cruelty of his former slave masters.
Zena narrowed her eyes. It would be gone before the day was over. She would see to that.
Breathing a satisfied sigh, she crooned, “Your dinner will be ready in a few moments, my king. After you eat, I will make sure your rest is undisturbed. I assume such a dangerous flight has left you exhausted.”
Taushin stretched out a wing and yawned. “I am tired, but there was little danger. The scent on Koren’s boots worked perfectly.” He laughed. “Even a blind dragon could follow it.”
“But you are not blind now. I can see quite well, so your vision through me should be clear.”
He turned his head, allowing Zena to rub the scales behind his ears. “Not as clear as when I look through Koren’s eyes. Although you are a contemptibly inferior vessel, you will suit my purposes for now.”
“For now?” Zena stilled her hands and forced down a lump in her throat. “What do you intend to do with me?”
Taushin’s blue eyebeams drifted up her arm until they finally settled on her eyes and drilled into her mind. “Fear not,” he said. “You will always be my servant. I cannot afford to sacrifice loyal slaves for no good reason. When I get Koren back as my surrogate eyes, you will serve us meals and clean our abodes. Koren and I will be too busy with other matters to attend to menial tasks.”
“You mock me!” Zena jerked her head to the side, blocking his beams. “Why do you test my loyalty with insulting words? Why do you provoke jealousy between Koren and me?”
“It is quite simple, my companion in blindness. I want Koren to be your enemy. I want you to be ready to kill her at any moment if I deem it necessary.”
“Why? She is pliable. She changes her mind constantly. She is not the insolent wench that Cassabrie was.”
Taushin’s beams found her eyes again. It seemed that his thoughts entered her mind at the same time he spoke, like a dull knife gouging her senses. “No, Koren is not Cassabrie, but she is still a Starlighter, and she is dangerous. It is your right to hate her, for although she is no better than you and although she became my servant as you did, Alaph approved of her. This same Alaph rejected you, a servant of dragons, and allowed Cassabrie to strike you blind. The injustice is clear.”
The horrid memory returned to Zena’s mind—Cassabrie’s vengeful, mocking verse as she cooked while attached to the Reflections Crystal. This view of light will be her last; her eyes will darken, sight is past. Unless she holds my hand in faith, she staggers blind, a hopeless wraith. Then Cassabrie transferred energy from the crystal and sent a blast from her eyes into Zena’s, scalding them and crippling her vision. And for years Arxad and Magnar preserved that black-hearted demon’s body behind her back, plotting against Taushin even as they protected him.
As she resumed her scratching, he leaned into her hands. “Have you decided what to do about Cassabrie’s body?”
“That is another reason we need Koren,” Taushin said. “Only she can go near Cassabrie’s radiance without harm or hypnosis. I had hoped that since I was able to endure the presence of a stardrop in Koren’s hand that I might be able to approach Cassabrie, but I tried only moments ago, and I could not draw close at all without being repulsed by her energy.”
“It’s not your fault, my king. I went in there again earlier today and tried to move her body, but the stardrops hold her there with great power. My eyesight while in her presence, however, was sharp, and I counted four stardrops in the floor and seven in the ceiling. It’s no wonder that you are unable to approach. Even though I was there only a few moments, I nearly succumbed. I cannot imagine how difficult it would be for a dragon.”
Taushin let out a long hmmm before replying. “It must be more than a mere stardrop mechanism that prevents us from coming near or taking her body. The tales Koren animates do not affect me because of my blindness, and I am able to influence her greatly when we are together, so there must be something about Cassabrie herself that makes a difference.”
“Arxad likely anchored Cassabrie there in a way we haven’t yet discovered. If she were to leave the chamber and the presence of the stardrops, maybe you would be able to influence her in the same way you influence Koren.”
Taushin’s ears perked up. “I think I understand. If we were to allow Cassabrie’s spirit to take her own body, she would be more vulnerable. That is an excellent idea.”
Trying to keep her hands from trembling, Zena smiled. “But there is great danger. What if Cassabrie indwells her body and you cannot control her?”
Taushin’s tongue darted out and in. “It is risky, but it might be worth it. She is a cunning girl, so we will have to make a show of resistance. If she is able to take her body without opposition, she will be suspicious.”
“Maybe we simply shouldn’t tell the guard,” Zena said. “Shrillet will be more than happy to provide opposition, and may the more powerful of the two survive. If Cassabrie recovers her body, all is well. If Shrillet kills Cassabrie, then perhaps the Starlighter is not as powerful and cunning as you believe.”
Taushin nodded, though the gesture seemed halfhearted. “Your suggestion has merit. Yet I will hold out hope that Cassabrie is victorious. With her under my control, we will have no need of Koren. Cassabrie is the more powerful of the two, at least while Koren is still learning her gifts.”
“But if Cassabrie doesn’t turn, then —”
“Then we will kill her immediately. You have done it before; you can do it again. It should bring you great pleasure to get revenge on your old enemy.” A grin spread across Taushin’s face. “Again.”
“Yes. Great pleasure. I could even get pleasure out of killing Koren if she proves to be a rebel. Yet as long as she is within Exodus, she will have great power, perhaps more than we can imagine. We cannot kill her. She is out of our reach.”
A knowing smile crossed Taushin’s face. “Not so, Zena. I found the spear.”
Zena swung her head from side to side, searching the room. “Where is it?”
“Hidden. I will reveal it in due time.”
“Where did you find it?”
“In Alaph’s castle, at the bottom of a deep stairwell.” He paused, frowning. “I also found Koren’s boots and dress, so she has shed her outer ga
rments. I will have no way of locating her again.”
Zena looked through the opening in the ceiling. “Knowing Koren, she will make a public appearance soon. She will not be able to resist using her power now that she dwells within Exodus.”
“My thoughts exactly. And when she does, she will learn what her people are really like. She imagines that they will gladly receive and apply the wisdom she bestows, but her wishful thinking will be deflated soon enough. She is in for a rude awakening.”
Zena gripped the fire poker and threw it across the room. It struck the photograph, cracking the glass cover, its point embedded between Magnar and Arxad. “A very rude awakening, indeed.”
Holding a bow over his shoulder, Randall propped open the dungeon gate. Arxad lowered his head and shuffled out into the open. Magnar followed, squeezing his muscular body through the narrow entrance. As both dragons emerged, they stretched their wings and limbs, their eyes flashing brightly and their scales shimmering in the evening moonlight. Even though they hadn’t taken a meal since they arrived, the extane-rich air had obviously given them plenty of energy.
Randall nodded toward a dead stag on the path. A single arrow protruded from its chest. “I didn’t have much time, so I have only this one. I hope it’s enough.”
“Thank you,” Arxad said. “It will be sufficient.”
Magnar stretched out his neck and looked Randall in the eye. “I heard some of your conversation with the new governor, but you intentionally kept your voices low during much of it. What were you hiding?”
“I kept my voice down for Orion’s sake. I’ll tell you everything I know.”
While Magnar consumed the stag, Randall related the conversation. Although he had pondered Orion’s conditions many times during his hunt, recalling them out loud gave the words more substance, as if spilling them into the open air in front of the dragons solidified them, transforming them from vaporous secrets to unavoidable realities. It made no sense to hide anything from either dragon. Orion’s concerns were reasonable.