Koren went on, again raising her tone to a lament. “Each day, we gathered smooth stones from a river raft and hauled them in pails while the raft floated along. Then far downstream, we would deposit them back on the raft—useless labor designed to exhaust us. Those stones
would then float to the dragon village so the builders could use them for decorating the more opulent homes.” Bending over to pluck imaginary stones from the ground, she imagined small children working with her. Like ghosts, they faded in and out as they scooped up stones and threw them into pails. She could hear the sounds come to life in her ears—the flowing river, the plinking of stones in the pails, the grunts and cries of tired children.
She wiped her sleeve across her forehead. “After a brutally hot day, we would be exhausted and hungry. As the blistering sun sank beneath the horizon, the cattle keeper would throw out a few loaves of bread, and like starving rats, the children would rush to the spillings and take what they could, grabbing and clawing, and bigger children would shove the littlest ones away.”
As she continued, she acted out every movement, and the characters and scenes appeared to come to life all around her. “Although I was the oldest in our herd, I was neither the biggest nor the strongest, so I was unable to prevent the big boys from stealing the morsels the little ones found at the end of the fracas. I gave them my own scraps and then took a small boy named Wallace into the village, sneaking through a hole in the wall so we could beg for more. Since this little boy was missing an eye, he helped me gain pity for our plight as I told of our woes. I embellished nothing. I merely told the truth with passion and tears, and we were able to gather enough food to survive for another day.”
Raising a finger, she lowered her voice to a dramatic whisper. “But my lot in life soon changed. You see, the dragons intentionally fed us too little. Survival depended on size, speed, and cunning. The dragons hoped that the weak and crippled would swoon from the hard labor and lack of food until they perished, leaving the strongest and cleverest among us to thrive so we could be sold to the Traders at a high price.”
She shook her hair and opened her eyes wide. “Since I am a green-eyed redhead with a glib tongue, I was sold on the next auction day, so I spent barely a month in the cattle camp.”
After letting out a long sigh, she gazed at Lattimer. As he stared at her, entranced, a tear trickled down his cheek. Continuing in a whisper, she looked at the sky and curtsied again, paying homage to the Creator of All. “I prayed for Wallace every night, and I hope that somehow he survived and that my feeble efforts to fill his belly did something more. Perhaps my love applied salve to that wounded orphan’s heart and brought light to the darkness in his miserable life.
“And the One who hears my prayers has now given me a great opportunity. As I told you, the Separators have granted that I serve in Arxad’s domicile. There I have studied many arts and sciences, including theater and diction, thereby enhancing my gift of storytelling. Yet my newly gained knowledge ignited my curiosity and an insatiable thirst for truth. The legends of our origins now seem no more than mindless chants we sing to toddlers to console their fears at bedtime. Dreams of Promotions have transformed from cool breezes and green meadows to scorching dragon breath as our limbs are broken between the crushing teeth of our masters.”
She turned back to Lattimer and lowered herself to her knees. “So here I am, dear night keeper. My friend is being promoted, so I am compelled by forces unseen to find the truth.” Closing her eyes, she folded her hands and pressed her lips against her knuckles. “May the Creator of All guide me as I seek the path to enlightenment and the succor that a girl of my age needs in this dark and dangerous world.”
She breathed in deeply and stayed quiet, peeking at Lattimer as she waited. For a moment, he sat motionless, his mouth agape. Tears streamed from his wide eyes. “I saw them!” he whispered. “Even as you spoke of your trials, I saw each of your fellow sufferers—your mother, your father, Wallace, the other children. They were like phantoms, transparent, no more visible than a night fog, but as real as love itself, as troubling as pain, and as heart-piercing as a mother’s cry of lament.”
She straightened her torso but stayed on her knees. “You could see them?”
“Like a dream, a mist, a fleeting shadow.” As he clenched his hands together, they trembled. “My dear, you are no ordinary girl. You are a Starlighter.”
“A Starlighter? I have never heard of that.”
He waved a hand at her. “Oh, no, of course you haven’t. We haven’t had one since long before you were born. Such a person is named after our planet, because he or she is able to tell the tales of history and bring them to life, even as this planet gives rise to history and its soil gives life to the seeds that fall therein. Perhaps it is the pheterone, but something in this world gives shape and color to the vivid thoughts of the Starlighter. Several dragons have possessed this gift in the past, but I have known of only one human Starlighter. The dragons thought her to be dangerous, because her tales enabled her to entrance them, putting them into a hypnotic state.”
He reached out a hand and helped her up. “Arise, my dear girl. We will see what succor we can offer.”
He picked up the nightgown and looked at the guardian dragon back at the Basilica. “I have seen Maximus scorch a human passerby for simply putting a hand between the bars. He is watchful, and he never sleeps while on duty. During the day, he is relieved by two other dragons of lesser skills, but daylight is a poor time to try to enter with stealth.”
Koren looked at Maximus. Even from a hundred paces away, his eyes seemed to pierce her own. “Is there another way to get in?”
Gazing up at the roof of the Separators’ building, he shook his head and murmured, “None that I would want to try.”
“Maybe I would.” She took her nightgown back from Lattimer and wadded it under her arm. “I don’t want to put you in danger. I’ll try to do it myself.”
“No, no, that is not my meaning. I was merely thinking about the various possibilities and the fact that the potential openings have access points that would require someone far more athletic and limber than I.”
“You mean, the roof?”
“Yes, there are a number of openings up there the dragons use for coming and going, but I cannot imagine how you would scale the walls.” Setting his hands on her shoulders, he stooped and glanced around before looking her in the eye. “Do you understand the consequences if you are caught?”
“I suppose they would kill me on the spot.” She shrugged. “Then I could be with my parents again.”
“No, my dear. You are too young to remember this, but Cassabrie, another young lady not much older than you, entered a dragon domain without permission. The dragons tied her to a crystalline stake within the Zodiac and commanded people to pass by to watch her suffer. Barely out of reach of the sympathizers, she stood with her hands and feet bound, baking in the sun. The dragons gave her just enough water to survive, but not a scrap of food. Day after day, she moaned in pain. She begged for death to come and end her agony. After thirteen days she finally died, literally cooked in the brutal heat of our hottest season.”
Koren shuddered, and her bravado wilted. Even though the punishment couldn’t be the same during the cooler season, such a cruel mind could easily think of an equally painful way to put a new intruder to death. She swallowed and looked into Lattimer’s sincere eyes. “I’m willing to risk it. I have to…for Natalla.”
“Natalla?” He cocked his head to the side. “Natalla, the girl at exams this evening?”
“Yes! Yes, she was there!”
Lattimer pointed at himself. “I was the examiner for this evening’s students. I am quite fond of Natalla. She is far more intelligent than the results of her exams would indicate. I was hoping to be given permission to tutor her.”
“But she’s getting promoted.”
“Oh, yes, of course. Back to your purpose.” He stroked his chin for a few seconds before continuing
. “Why would they promote an underachieving student?”
“That’s exactly my question! I have to find the answer.”
“The answer might be quite simple. They could be thinking she is hatched from the black egg.”
Koren pointed at him. “And that’s another mystery I want to solve. Is that prophecy really going to happen?”
“The black egg?” His brow wrinkled tightly. “Dear child, let us hope not!”
“What’s wrong with a weak hatchling turning into a great dragon king?”
He patted her on the back. “I suppose your textbooks never quoted Tamminy’s rhyme. It is frightening, so I hesitate to tell you.”
“If I’m going to risk getting past Maximus, I think I’m ready to hear a bard’s tale.”
“Very well, but this will not be an exact rendering. I took the liberty of translating it to our language, so the rhyme, meter, and lyrical choices are rather suspect. In fact, dreadful might be a better description.” Lattimer cleared his throat and spoke the verse in singsong.
An egg of ebon, black as coal,
Will bring about the dragons’ goal.
The dragon rising from its shell
Will overcome a deadly knell.
Though weak and crippled at the start,
Its strength begins within its heart.
Above all others it will soar,
And dragonkind will all adore.
Its virtue, might, and crown will rest
Upon a head of nobleness.
Then humans far and wide will flee
In fear of coming jubilee.
For paradise begins that day;
All labors cease and turn to play.
And slaves become like needless mites,
Unfit to stay within our sight.
So drown the vermin, cook their meat
And scatter bones upon the street.
When every human life is spent
The age of vermin truly ends.
In honor of this treasured hour,
We celebrate this dragon’s power.
The dawn of paradise will bring
An age of peace beside our king.
Lattimer shook his head. “I told you it was dreadful.”
“It is awful, but I doubt that you had much to work with.” Koren let the verses flow through her mind again. As a lover of words, she had always been able to memorize almost anything in an instant, and bringing back lovely songs was usually a pleasure, but these lyrics were different. Although most of the prophecy seemed virtuous and promising, at least to dragons, the fifth quatrain spewed venom and malice, as if the bard had transformed from a seer of sunlight to a diviner of doom.
“How old is that prophecy?” she asked.
“Oh, I do not know exactly. Does it matter?”
“Some legends say humans came to Starlight from another planet. If we were brought here only a hundred years ago, the prophecy can’t be older than that.”
“And that is one reason to dismiss those legends about our origins. The black egg prophecy is at least a thousand years old. The truth is humans were created here on Starlight many centuries ago, and we have been slaves to dragons ever since. There is no other world. It is a myth designed to provide hope for deliverance from our suffering.”
Koren looked at the ground. Lattimer’s words stabbed deeply, the truth a sword that punctured hope.
Not a day had passed without a thought about someday escaping to Darksphere—the human planet—and living at peace with the progeny of her ancestors. But now those dreams had been dashed forever. Lattimer and Madam Orley had shown they really were hopeful myths she would have to leave behind.
Trying not to cry, she turned toward the Basilica. “So how do I get in?”
“I will tell you where to find all the access points, but after all you have learned are you still willing to take the risk?”
“If I’m caught, maybe I can use my gift to hypnotize them.”
“A reasonable idea. I can provide some words that should help you charm Maximus.” He raised a pair of fingers. “Yet there are two problems. First, you have barely learned how to use your talent, and second, the other Starlighter attempted a similar hypnotic scheme, and her execution was brutal.”
“You mean…”
“Yes. Cassabrie was the other Starlighter.”
Eight
Jason forced his limbs downward, lowering his sword. He couldn’t let Randall know that the lightning had practically frozen his joints in place. “You’ll get only one shot, Randall. If you miss, you’re dead. If you let me go, we’ll both stay alive.”
As rainwater dripped from the photo gun’s barrel, Randall spat out his words. “You killed the governor! My father!”
“No!” Jason shook his head. “He was already dead when I found him! Drexel and Bristol conspired to kill him and blame me!”
“Bristol?” Randall lowered the gun a notch. “He’s the one who told me you did it. He came out here with me and the hounds. He showed me an ugly cut on his head where he says you hit him. He couldn’t have put it there himself.”
“Elyssa hit him with a branch just a little while ago, while we were trying to escape.”
“Elyssa? I thought she was—”
“Kidnapped by mountain bears. That story had a lot of holes, and you know it.”
Randall stood still. Lightning flashed, framing his drenched body. “I…I don’t know.”
“Think about it, Randall! As much as you hate me, you know I’m not a murderer.”
The gun eased down another fraction, but Randall kept a finger on the trigger, saying nothing.
“Where is Bristol now?” Jason asked.
Randall gestured with his head. “He said he’d meet me at the river. Told me to come back and check the dungeon gate. He thought it might have been left unlocked.”
Now yelling through the heightening storm, Jason took a slow step forward. “He’s not worried about the gate, Randall. He just doesn’t want witnesses when he executes me without a trial. He and Drexel set me up—they wanted to cut the genetic material out of your father’s skin, but they needed a scapegoat who would be blamed for the murder, someone Elyssa would trust and who would spring her from the dungeon so she could use her knowledge and gifts to divine her path to the gateway.”
“So Elyssa really is a Diviner? Orion was right?”
Jason nodded and blew rainwater from his lips. “Elyssa is on the run. If I don’t show up, she’ll just keep searching for the gateway, thinking I’ll eventually meet her there. So Bristol will follow her. Drexel thinks he can use the genetic material to get through—”
“Aaugh!” Randall lunged forward and fell on his face, an arrow protruding from between his shoulders.
Another arrow zinged past Jason’s nose. Ignoring his still-protesting joints, he hunched low and searched for the source. Bristol had to be close by. Since Randall had failed to carry out the execution for him, he likely planned to terminate Randall as well and pin the blame on the scapegoat.
A third arrow flew well over his head. Apparently Bristol didn’t know where his target lay hidden.
Crawling on his belly with his sword in hand, Jason eased up to Randall and whispered, “Are you all right?”
Randall heaved a breath. “That no-good scoundrel. I’ll have him disemboweled!”
“Shhh! Don’t give him a target.” Jason wrapped his fingers around the arrow’s shaft. It wasn’t deep at all, maybe only an inch or so. He sheathed his sword and whispered, “I’m breaking it off. We can take it out later.”
Clenching his teeth, Randall nodded, his cheek flat on the water-logged path.
Jason snapped off the shaft and grasped Randall’s arm. “Let’s get under cover. I’ll help you.”
The two crawled off the path and into the forest undergrowth. Pulling on Randall’s arm, Jason had to claw the muddy slope to make any progress. After a minute or so, Jason hoisted Randall to his feet, and, still clutching his arm, led him deep
er into the forest.
When they were well out of Bristol’s earshot, Jason stopped and looked at Randall. Only the occasional flash of lightning allowed him to see the young man’s wet and muddy face.
“Listen,” Jason said. “I’m really sorry about your father, but I had nothing to do with it.”
His face a knot of emotions, Randall nodded. “But what do we do now?”
“Find Elyssa before Bristol does. Now that he couldn’t kill me, he might try to kidnap Elyssa instead of just following her. The dogs will probably track her down, so we have to hurry.”
“I didn’t hear any barking when he sneaked up on us,” Randall said. “He must have tied them up somewhere, but he’ll have them again soon. We’ll never track Elyssa better than those hounds, especially in the rain.”
“Except that I know where she went.” Jason lifted the point end of his scabbard. “Hang on to this. I’ll try not to go too fast.”
Another flash of lightning lit up Randall’s determined face. “Just go. I’ll keep up.”
Jason marched across the slope. This wasn’t exactly familiar territory, but he and Adrian had worked on positional reckoning for so long they both had become virtual human compasses. All he had to do was keep heading northeast, and he would eventually meet the stream, probably just before the point where it fed the river. For some reason, in spite of the cold, lack of sleep, and a lightning strike, strength flowed through his muscles. His limbs were still stiff, but they were strong. Maybe the extane had affected him after all. His heart was thumping so fast it seemed almost out of control.