Staring at her shadow, Marcelle watched herself nod. “What I brought to life was from my own mind. I told a story about what I had seen.”
“Interesting. Clearly you possess a gift of some sort, but a greater proof will be if you can display a tale you have not seen, perhaps something from Starlight’s past. It could be that you have this ability only when you’re in this form. Perhaps energy from the Reflections Crystal endowed you. It absorbed quite a bit of my energy at one time.”
“That experience I’ll never forget.” Marcelle set a hand on her hip. Memories of the burning pain she had suffered roared back. She had disguised herself as a Promoted slave in order to rescue Adrian from that crystal, and it took some time for him to get the will to fight. Cassabrie had lived within him for quite a while, and he seemed to change during that time, apparently hypnotized by her charms.
She drilled a stare into Cassabrie. “Why did you go inside Adrian? What were you doing to his mind?”
Cassabrie blinked rapidly. “My purpose was not my own. I was compelled by a higher authority.”
“That’s a dodge. You didn’t answer my question.”
“I didn’t answer in the way you hoped, but it wasn’t a dodge, as you call it. I was letting you know that my purpose was guided by another, so the why is not something I can fully answer.”
“Well, if you want me to trust you, you’d better tell me what you know.”
Cassabrie stared for a moment, her green eyes soft, yet piercing. “Should I purchase your trust with information that is private between two parties?”
Keeping her eyes on Cassabrie, Marcelle turned and sat to her right. “Two parties? You and Adrian?”
“Yes, of course. I dwelt inside him. We had many private conversations.” As their gazes locked again, Cassabrie’s expression took on a melancholy air. “As Arxad’s agent in communicating with your governor about a pheterone transfer, I visited this world frequently, and I took the liberty at times to explore, so I learned a great deal about the people here. I had seen Adrian before, but I had no idea that he would be the one to facilitate the gas tank transfer until I arrived to get it. When Alaph, the king in the Northlands, learned that you and Adrian were coming to Starlight, he told me that he wanted the two of you to be separated and that I should be Adrian’s guide for his journey to the Southlands.”
“You mean that our separation was orchestrated?” Marcelle pointed at Cassabrie. “By you?”
Cassabrie nodded. “I wasn’t told why, but I think I figured it out. Each of you learned something on your own, something crucial that you could not have learned together. I assume that you had quite a harrowing experience getting past the barrier wall.”
“I did.” Marcelle forced a skeptical tone. “Go on.”
“Alaph wanted me to guide Adrian, not so much in direction, because the Southlands region is easy to find, but more so in purpose and clarity of mind.”
“Clarity of mind? Your presence made him lose clarity.”
“Only when I intentionally created a fog. That was part of my goal, to provide him with the experience of giving control to a powerful presence so that he would be ready for a greater test.”
“What greater test?”
Cassabrie shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“But you nearly got him killed.”
“I know. I tested him to his very limits. I challenged his mind with wooings of love and testings of the quality of his heart.”
“But why? Adrian is a good, honest man. He doesn’t need testing.”
“We all need testing, Marcelle, not only to learn what we are lacking, but also to learn who we are, to be reminded of what has been buried within, treasures that need to come to the surface. When I finally left Adrian, it seemed to me that he resurrected exactly what he needed to complete his journey.”
“And what is that?”
Cassabrie’s brow knitted. “You don’t know?”
Resisting a scowl, Marcelle kept her tone calm. “If I did, I wouldn’t have asked.”
“I suppose not.” Cassabrie looked away. “I thought a real woman would have seen it clearly.”
“A real woman?” Marcelle gritted her teeth. “What are you implying? Just because I prefer trousers over—”
“Oh, Marcelle! I wasn’t questioning your femininity. I was referring to your physical presence. You were in a real body during Adrian’s ordeal.” Cassabrie gave her a disarming smile. “You’re a real woman, to be sure. I just thought that since you were physical and able to call on natural womanly instincts, you would empathize with Adrian’s plight and understand his dilemma and his final choice. It’s fair to assume, however, that your own torture has crippled your faculties.”
“Crippled my faculties,” Marcelle whispered, as if echoing. What could Cassabrie have meant by womanly instincts? Did she think there might be a romantic relationship of some kind? “Adrian and I are on a mission to rescue slaves, not to get involved with each other. This is war, not love.”
Cassabrie let out a tsking sound. “If not for love, Adrian would have stayed at home. If not for love, he wouldn’t be shedding his blood to rescue slaves.” She drew so close, their noses nearly touched. “If not for love, he wouldn’t be carrying your soulless body through Starlight, whispering encouragement to you, praying for you, and ignoring the mess and smell when your body, unable to control its functions—”
“That’s enough,” Marcelle said, waving a hand. “I get the picture.”
“Is that so?” Cassabrie looked into her eyes. “I’m not sure you do.”
“What am I missing?”
“You’re missing the reasons behind your trials. The only way for you to raise an army was to come here in this form, and the only way to preserve your body was to make sure that a certain warrior so loved you that he would never forsake you, even if you became a voiceless vegetable without hope of recovery. He would keep you safe from harm.”
Marcelle let her voice drop below a whisper. “I see.”
“And I taught him a lesson about where great faith and brutal practicality meet. I wanted him to consider where he would draw the line between a faithful risk and suicidal foolishness. You see, our faith to do the impossible grows as the value we assign to the impossible task grows. At first, he told me you were a fellow warrior, so his risk to protect you ought to be in keeping with the value of a fellow warrior. I did not contradict him, but this expression of worth let me know how much work I had to do. He was suppressing his true view of you, so I had to show him what he really wanted you to be.”
“And what was that?”
“I am amazed that you don’t know.” Cassabrie spread out her fingers, displaying the gap. “Your lack of knowledge is far more crippling than a missing ring finger.”
“Just give it to me straight. What does Adrian want me to be?”
Cassabrie caressed Marcelle’s hand. “More than a warrior. A spiritual companion. A deep-abiding friend. Someone he couldn’t live without. I bonded with him and showed him what it’s like to be spiritually united with a powerful … tender … needy woman.”
“Needy?” Marcelle instinctively reached for her sword, but it wasn’t there. “I have trained for—”
“Oh, stop it, Marcelle! You can’t be your own hero forever. When are you going to put down your armor? When are you going to realize that your heart needs a friend? When are you going to shed that façade?” Cassabrie’s eyes blazed like a copper fire. “Adrian needs a woman, not another man!”
“A woman can be a woman without dresses and perfume. Just because I can fight with a sword doesn’t mean—”
“I’m not talking about swords or dresses or perfume! You can wear a gunnysack and skunk oil for all I care. A woman isn’t a costume you wear on the outside; it’s what you are on the inside. And Adrian needed to feel the love of a woman before he could see you as something other than a fellow warrior.”
Marcelle gave her a skeptical stare. “So you showed him. You me
lded with him and made him love you.”
Cassabrie nodded firmly. “In fact, at the point of decision, I wooed him so thoroughly and with such tantalizing power that I invited him to die at the cooking stake and be with me forever in spiritual ecstasy.”
“You did?” Marcelle painted a mental image of Cassabrie and Adrian dancing, their bodies pressed close together as they swayed in the midst of a calm breeze that gently brushed their hair and clothes. Their faces reflected perfect serenity, far from the dangers of mortal battles and slavish strife. “And what if he had chosen to die?”
“I don’t discuss hypotheticals, Marcelle. He didn’t choose me; he chose you. That’s all that matters.”
“That’s all that matters,” Marcelle repeated with a doubtful tone. “Are you trying to tell me that you had no desires for yourself? That you didn’t want Adrian to be your eternal love?”
Cassabrie crossed her arms over her chest. “I see no reason to discuss my desires. They’re irrelevant.”
“You want me to trust you, don’t you?” Marcelle spiced a vibrant whisper with a low growl. “You undressed my soul. I don’t see why you shouldn’t undress yours.”
Cassabrie and Marcelle stared at each other for a long moment. Finally, Cassabrie lowered her hood again, allowing her red tresses to spill over her cloak’s shoulders. “I had an older brother, well, half brother really, who was a lot like Adrian, brave and noble and loving. Trace was eight years older than I, and he treated me like one of your princesses here on Darksphere, so kind and thoughtful. With every tender touch, I felt loved and cherished, a wonderful rush of emotions that told me I was something more than a stone mover.” Cassabrie closed her eyes and seasoned her words with a gentle hum. “Some of the older women told tales of romance, being loved by a heroic man, something we never saw in real life. But when I was twelve, Trace attempted an uprising. He killed a dragon with a homemade sword and tried to herd a bunch of us to the wilderness. For the first time in my life, I saw true heroism, and the image made my heart leap.”
Marcelle looked at the center of the cell. A semitransparent man who looked much like Adrian spread out his arms, frantically guiding women and children into a line.
“But he couldn’t get any of the other men to help, so he had to defend the women and children by himself. A dragon blasted him with fire and killed two of the women and three children.”
A ghostly dragon flew across the room and blew a blast of fire that slammed into Trace and splashed over some in the line, setting them ablaze. Then, as quickly as the scene appeared, it vanished.
Cassabrie opened her eyes. “Maybe if more men had joined us, ready to fight, we could have escaped, but they said the best way to protect us was to acquiesce, to just do what the dragons tell us. They even accused Trace of hating the women and children, saying he would be the cause of our deaths.”
“That’s so wrong,” Marcelle said. “Trace was the real man. He fought for their freedom.”
Cassabrie nodded. “And that brings me to my point. The fire crippled Trace, and the dragons chained him to the Basilica, providing him just enough sustenance to keep him alive. Unable to speak a word, he became a public display, a blackened shell of a man, a visual warning against rebellion. After many years, he died of old age, a relief, really, for his suffering was abominable. Anyway, ever since Trace’s valiant attempts, I dreamed of finding a man like him, a man with a backbone, a man of courage who could lead me with a muscular arm while massaging my heart with a compassionate hand. And in Adrian I found him. So when I went inside Adrian, I poured my love into him, showing him the passion and purity of a woman’s unbridled affections, an empowering infusion he had never experienced before. You see, men are willing to fight for what they believe in, but when they face brutal persecution, their resolve might wilt if not for this inner sense of purpose.”
“The love of a woman.”
“Yes. A man will fight to the death for what he believes in, but he will suffer for all eternity for his woman. He will even endure the shame of failure. You see, when he falls, his woman picks him up, dusts him off, and whispers words of intimacy in his ear that only he will understand, and these words become fuel for his fire. Then, reignited by love, he charges into battle once again, confident that his sacrifices have meaning to someone he loves, someone who loves him.” Cassabrie nodded slowly. “Yes, it is easier to die for a cause than it is to live in daily sacrifice, and it is a woman who helps a man understand the difference.”
Marcelle sat mesmerized. This Starlighter’s gift for words truly did pierce hearts.
“So,” Cassabrie continued, “when I had fully infused that love into Adrian, I challenged him to decide between me and you. While he suffered, my heart was ripping in two. I so wanted him to be mine, but that was not my mission. I came to give him power and purpose, and I had fulfilled my quest, so I pulled back to give him a moment of clarity, to allow him to see what you were doing for him. When he fully understood, he hesitated not one second.”
Cassabrie took Marcelle’s hand. “He loves you, Marcelle. Now that he has experienced what I have shown him, he wants you to be the one to infuse him with this power that only a woman can give, the purpose that will cause him to sacrifice whatever he must to accomplish an impossible task. For your sake, he will do whatever love tells him.”
Marcelle stared at their joined hands. “And you could have kept him. You wanted him, but you gave him up.”
Her chin quivering, Cassabrie nodded. “But now that he’s yours, you have to, as you said, undress your soul for him. Keep your sword. Keep your trousers. But lower your shield. Let him see your heart, the heart of a woman who will be at his side to the ends of the earth. For such a woman, he will slay every dragon in every world.”
Marcelle looked into her eyes again. “What shield? I’m straightforward. I tell everyone exactly what I think. I don’t hide anything from anyone.”
“Straightforward, yes. Your sharp tongue fends off fools, but it also repels those who wish to draw close. You have wrapped your wounded heart in armor, and in that sleeve it will never be harmed again. Within that cowl, you still shiver in the shadow of your mother’s murderer. To this day, he still stalks your nightmares, and as long as you cower in fear of another attack, as long as you push everyone away to protect the open wound, you will never heal; you will never conquer the villain who did this deed. He will continue to stab you again and again until you decide to muster courage and stand up against him, and not just him, but also any intruder who threatens your security.”
Marcelle tried to slide her hand away, but Cassabrie held firm. Their gazes locked again. Cassabrie’s eyes sparkled, not from tears, but from an eerie light shining within. Her words were powerful, indeed, persuasive, mind-changing. But was it because of truth or rather because of her Starlighter gifts? How could anyone know for certain?
“How did you learn all this?” Marcelle asked. “You live on a world without examples of what you’re talking about. Even Trace was with you for too few years to give you all this wisdom. Who taught you?”
Cassabrie averted her eyes. “I have had many long conversations with the white dragon, the king of the Northlands. He has great wisdom.”
“How could a dragon understand a human heart?”
“His kind has many emotional similarities with our kind, and he has a mate, so he understands what love can do, how love can affect the heart.”
“You said has a mate. When I was there, I didn’t hear about any queen.”
“They are currently estranged, but I will say no more about that. Their heartbreak is not our concern.”
“I see.”
Marcelle imagined Adrian as he struggled to free himself from the Reflections Crystal. He had cried out, “Cassabrie, I beg you. Let me go! Don’t let me die a coward. Let me fight at Marcelle’s side!” Then, like a stream of light, Cassabrie emerged from his body. The moment Adrian made his decision, she set him free. Every word of her story was true
.
“I need to get back to him,” Marcelle said. “He needs me to help him. Right now I’m just a limp body who can’t give him a sword or a heart.”
Cassabrie nodded once more, her eyes again fiery. “Yes, you must get back to him, but do so with as many soldiers as you can muster. Then you and he can lead them in battle together. Yet, how will you find each other? Starlight is smaller than this world, but it is still too vast for a pair of humans to randomly meet.”
“Adrian will find a way. He is the best tracker in Mesolantrum. He notices everything—smells, sounds, and tastes. He can tell a man’s weight just by the angle of the grass he trod.”
“Is that so?” Cassabrie let out a low hum. “Then perhaps there is no concern.”
“Okay, that’s settled,” Marcelle said, firming her jaw. “So back to the portal issue. Whatever you have to do to be there to open it when we arrive, just do it. If this isn’t a dream after all, I’m taking a huge risk going to the stake.”
“Indeed you are. If you don’t escape the body you created from the soil of this planet, your spirit will not be able to survive the flames. You will be sent straight to the Creator, and your physical body on Starlight will also perish.”
“So there’s still a real connection between my body and my spirit?”
“Oh, yes. My own body still exists on Starlight. I can sense it, feel it. Sometimes I can even see through my body’s physical eyes, though only brief glimpses. I hope someday to reunite with it, but it’s impossible right now.”
“I thought it was real.” Marcelle sighed. “So it’s risky, but it’s not as if I have any choice anymore.”
“You still have a choice.” Cassabrie rose and pointed at the door. “You can leave the way I came in. In fact, we can leave together. We can crumble to dust, slide underneath, and reconstitute right in front of the guard.” She laughed. “I have to admit, being able to surprise people and take advantage of their shock can be quite amusing. In fact, I experienced a recent standoff with Counselor Leo. The look on his face when I dissolved was worth the risk of the encounter. His face became as pale as yours and mine.”