Diviner (4 page)

She lowered her finger and cooled her tone. “I know. I have said the same myself, but I am beginning to doubt it.”

“What is there to doubt? Do you doubt the cattle camp? The barrier wall?”

Constance shook her head. “Those are undeniable. I doubt only that I came from my mother’s womb in chains. Slaves are made, not born. Dragons keep me here against my will. The barrier wall is proof enough that every one of us would run to freedom if not for the wall and the guardians who patrol it. If I had wings, I would fly to the Northlands and be with my daughter.”

Yeager laughed. “Do you still believe that story? There is no king of the Northlands. Promoted slaves are eaten by Magnar and his closest friends.”

“You are the one who believes the myths.” She reached into her tunic pocket and withdrew a folded parchment. “My daughter wrote to me from the Northlands. I recognize her handwriting.”

Closing his eyes, Yeager took in a deep breath. Then, leaning close, he whispered, “I risk my life in telling you this, but I do so for the sake of this little girl and for pity’s sake, pity for your loss of a husband and a daughter within the span of three years.” He glanced around the kitchen. “I have witnessed part of a Promotion myself. Do you remember when the dragons extended the barrier wall on the western boundary?”

“I remember. They had men chiseling stone night and day.”

Yeager nodded. “During those months, I worked with the stone movers. When that Assignment ended, the Separators were trying to decide whether or not to return me to slave trading. I was in the Basilica — drugged, of course—but they didn’t give me enough, so it wore off early. Arxad brought your daughter in to Magnar. He said, ‘I chose this one for promotion from my own household. She is proficient in medicine.’ Then Magnar said, ‘Are you certain her medical background is your primary motivation?’

“Arxad put on a show of surprise, but even I could see through it. He said, ‘What other reason would I have?’ So Magnar gave him a scowl and said, ‘A pretext to obtain the redhead from the cattle camp. You should forget her. It would be better for us all if she dies there.’ After they argued for a while, Magnar finally gave in.”

Constance felt her mouth drop open. With her throat tightening, she couldn’t utter a word. Koren had replaced her daughter in Arxad’s household. Everyone knew that. But who could have guessed that Arxad had planned the exchange all along?

“Then,” Yeager continued, “Magnar asked if Arxad had completed the preparations.” He tapped a finger on the parchment in Constance’s hand. “That’s when Arxad showed him this very letter.”

She rattled the parchment at him. “I don’t believe a word of it! How could you know it’s the same letter?”

“Because Arxad read the first part out loud, and they both got a good laugh out of it. Then Magnar led her away. I assume he intended to eat her, because he said something about preparing a banquet.”

Constance shook her head hard. “Arxad would never laugh at our pain. He is good to us. Everyone knows that.”

Yeager snatched the parchment from her hand and, leaving it folded, set it close to her eyes. “Do you need to open it to see what it says? I don’t.” He looked in the opposite direction. “Dear Mother, I am happy in the Northlands with the great dragon king. Arxad told me I would learn more about medicine here, so I am looking forward to that. Papa will be proud of me when—”

“Stop!” Constance grabbed the letter and spun away. As she pressed it against her lips, spasms rocked her body. “Leave now. Just leave.”

“And what of the girl? I’ll give her to you at no charge. You can’t let her go to the stone.”

Staying turned, Constance glanced over her shoulder at the girl. With hair cut into four different lengths and her face so sunken her eyes seemed ready to roll out of their sockets, she was truly a pitiful sight. Could she hide the girl here without getting permission, at least for a few nights? Fellina might return with Xenith at any moment, so getting food for the girl secretly might be impossible. And what of Arxad? He laughed with Magnar! Laughed about poor, sweet Agatha! And then … Constance bit her lip hard. And then Magnar ate her? Could that part really be true? Yeager didn’t see it happen, but if Agatha had really gone to the Northlands, why would Magnar have taken her away? Shouldn’t Arxad have prepared her for the journey?

Constance hid her face and sobbed. Arxad wasn’t the kind master he pretended to be. He was just as heartless and cruel as all the others. She couldn’t hide this poor girl. No, she would be leaving this household herself. As soon as possible. But where would she go? The wilderness? Yes, the wilderness. Even though no one had ever returned from there, that didn’t mean they died. After all, since they were trying to escape, why would they return?

Taking in a deep breath, Constance wiped her eyes and turned back to Yeager. “I’m sorry, but I cannot take this girl in. I understand what will happen to her, but there isn’t anything I can do about it.”

“So be it.” Yeager shook the chain and walked toward the cave’s entrance. The three children followed, ignorant lambs being led to slaughter. As the shadows enveloped him, Yeager called back, “Just don’t preach to me again about being a slave trader, Madam Orley. You have just traded this girl to the mill for the sake of your loyalty to dragons, and some of those dragons ate your daughter.”

When Yeager’s voice faded to silence, Constance looked at Agatha’s letter again, opening it with shaking hands. With her back to the cave wall, she slid to her bottom and read the precious words for the thousandth time. Yeager had quoted them fairly well, closely enough to prove he had heard them spoken. Just this morning she had read the letter, and the sweet prose had been a blessing, an uplifting start to her day:
Somewhere in the North, Agatha served the great king, perhaps as a doctor to the other promoted slaves …

But now?

Now Agatha’s dream had been shattered, along with her body and bones. The many months of hope had been a lie, a heartbreaking lie. The poor girl had been eaten by a vile monster, likely ripped to shreds and shared with other vile monsters.

Sobbing again, Constance clenched a fist. The beasts! The villains! Somehow she would find a way to get revenge. First, she had to escape, get help and weapons, but how?

She leaned her head against the wall and looked up at the dark ceiling. The cave’s boundaries never seemed so black before, so heavy, so crushing. Arxad and Fellina had always been kind, but now their kindness seemed a pretense, a way to get her to work harder, a mask to hide their real intent. Even if Arxad didn’t eat the slaves himself, he didn’t stop the barbaric practice. He didn’t speak up. His closed mouth was just as guilty as the open ones that had chewed Agatha’s body.

Brushing away new tears, Constance looked past the ceiling and let her mind fly to the North. It was time to plan a way to escape, but it would be impossible without help, especially with everyone in lockdown. Yet there was one slave who seemed to enjoy more freedom than any other. Even though she had given in to Taushin’s tortures, maybe her heart had not yet been enslaved.

“Creator,” she said out loud. “Help me find Koren. Maybe together we can figure out how to end this madness.”

The sound of flapping wings echoed throughout the cave — two dragons, probably Fellina and Xenith. Constance shot to her feet and brushed off her apron. She would have to pretend to be an obedient servant, at least until she could learn where Koren might be.

three

 

K
oren lifted her leg and scaled the final step. Tremors rippled through her muscles. On the landing, she halted and mopped her brow with the edge of her hood. Hunger and thirst gnawed at her stomach, and exhaustion threatened to overwhelm her, yet she had to press on. The worst part of the journey might still lie ahead. Taking a deep breath, she stepped up to the sliding door that led into the castle’s massive foyer, every sense on alert for a sign of Taushin.

Although he had often spoken in her mind before they reached the Northlands, he had been silent ever since. Maybe the castle provided some sort of protection from his probing presence. Could he see through her eyes anymore? If he could, there would be no getting by him. He would have seen all and would know her location. If not, though, there was some chance she could slip by, or at least pass off her new direction as a continued search for Exodus. There was only one way to find out.

Pressing her hard-soled boots down lightly, she passed by the open wall and glided through the castle’s entry room. Light poured in from the wide doorway, casting a ray of sunshine across the marred wooden floor. Without daring to peek outside, she lifted her hood over her head, turned to the right, and scooted toward a huge corridor.

Where are you going?

Taushin’s voice.

Koren halted, her heart sinking. She leaned back and looked. He stood at the bottom of the portico stairs, his eyebeams locked on her. This was her only chance to learn what he could and couldn’t see. “To search the rest of the castle,” she called. “Haven’t you followed my progress?”

She waited through Taushin’s pause, her heart pounding as she forced herself to breathe evenly.

Continue your exploration,
he finally said.
Just remember that haste is essential.

Koren walked into the corridor. “Why?” The word echoed through the cavernous space.

Because I hold …
His voice died away.

She kept walking. So, being near the door allowed Taushin access to her mind, and now he couldn’t finish his reply. Why
was
haste essential? Learning what he held might be helpful, but going back into his zone of influence wasn’t exactly her first choice. The farther away from Taushin she wandered, the better she felt.

As she walked, her footfalls echoed in the massive hallway. For some strange reason, it seemed that a bubble of light surrounded her. Crystals embedded in the walls sparkled in an array of colors, briefly highlighting a portion of a long mural. With each step, a new portion shone. As she moved, it seemed that the mural on the right moved with her, a white dragon with shining blue eyes repositioning its wings with each new appearance as if it were flying at her pace. From mouth and nostrils, it blew a river of white crystals that sparkled like sunlit ice.

She looked to the left. Another dragon flew on that side, a black one with red eyes. It breathed a torrent of flames with specks of orange and yellow almost too bright to behold.

When she neared the end of the corridor, a huge, arching entryway came into view straight ahead, leading into another chamber. She stopped at the boundary and peered inside. A network of roots and vines covered the floor, or perhaps they were the floor itself.

Her surrounding aura dimmed, but a lantern on each inner wall provided enough light to illuminate a few details. Beds lined the walls to the left and right, maybe four on each side. They appeared to be neatly made and empty. Two ragged holes interrupted the floor’s woody network, one large and one small. Apparently this floor was too fragile to walk upon, though a dragon might fly in without a problem and perhaps deposit a human on one of the beds.

To her right, another corridor, not quite as large as the first, stretched out into darkness. With a solid marble floor, it seemed to be the safer option. Letting her boots strike the hard surface noisily, she marched that way. If anyone came out to check on the noise, she could ask to see the white dragon. Maybe calling would be even better.

Still walking, she lifted her voice enough to compete with her footfalls. “Hello? Is anyone here?”

“I am here,” a feminine voice replied from behind her. Koren halted and spun around. No one was there.

“Who said that?”

“I did.” A wisp of light shaped like a girl curtsied. “I am Deference.” As soon as she straightened, she vanished.

Koren slid a step closer and tried to find her in the dimness. “Have you been following me all this time?”

“Only since you came out of the star chamber.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“The king said I was to remain quiet until you called. He knew you wouldn’t be able to see me while I was behind you, and whenever you stopped, I stopped. You can’t see me unless I move.” She swayed back and forth, appearing again and creating a new aura all around. She looked to be about fifteen years old, her hair and eye color impossible to discern.

Koren pointed at her. “So you made the light while I walked.”

“I did, but the light works only in these corridors. It has something to do with the jewels in the walls.” Deference spread out her hands, a sheepish expression evident in her glowing face. “But I have no idea how it works.”

“That’s okay. I wouldn’t expect you to know every mystery in this strange castle.” While the glow remained, Koren looked at one of the walls in the new corridor. The design resembled a girl inside a sphere. With red hair, green eyes, and a blue cloak, she had to be a Starlighter.

Koren pointed at the wall. “Is that Brinella?”

“Brinella?” Deference turned toward the mural, brightening the aura again. She gave a light shrug. “I don’t know her name, and I’ve never heard of Brinella.”

Koren pressed her lips together. This interrogation might not provide many answers. She pointed down the hall. “Is the white dragon in that direction?”

“He is, but you’ll never find him without a guide.”

“Will you be my guide?”

Sweeping her arm out in front, Deference bowed low. “It would be an honor.”

“Then lead the way. The last thing I want is to get lost.”

Deference ambled down the hall, her light illuminating the murals lining the corridor.

Lowering her hood, Koren followed. To the right, the Starlighter in the sphere floated alongside. She changed positions at times, from sitting to standing to walking. She certainly looked like Brinella, perhaps a little younger.

To the left, another mural appeared, this one a reflection of herself, a redhead dressed in black—the same dress and boots, but no Starlighter cloak.

As Koren glanced between the two, they seemed to emerge from the walls, taking on minute details and vibrant colors. Brinella’s eyes shone green, and her hair looked pomegranate red. The girl in black had eyes of ebony, Zena’s blank eyes, barren and lost.

Koren shuddered. Was her Starlighter gift doing this? Was she making the images animate? What other explanation could there be?

As if brought to life, Brinella called out from the painting, “Starlighter, why have you used your gift to seize the minds of those who lack your vision without providing sustenance for their starving spirits?”

The girl in black replied, her tone sour. “You have no idea what I’ve been through. They enslaved me. They put me in chains.” She lifted her arms, showing reddened abrasions on her wrists. “Then that foul dragon master tortured me with painful jolts that nearly killed me.”

“I know,” Brinella said. “Starlight showed me every cringe and cry, but your protest does not provide an answer to my question. When your listeners withdrew from the world and awaited your wisdom, why did you forsake them by running away? Why did you not impart your wisdom?”

“Because I was in trouble. I had to run. And I didn’t know I was supposed to say anything to them. Even if I did know, I had no idea what to say. I have no wisdom to impart.”

“Ah! Now there is a faithful answer. But did you ever consider the fact that you have an extraordinary gift, a talent too wonderful to fully comprehend? When you realized that you had control over the dragons, why did you choose to flee rather than to persuade them to join your cause? And this power is merely one of many gifts you possess. You will learn that even the scrapings of the skin of Exodus can provide healing. Did you not know that such gifts must carry with them a responsibility to use them wisely? Or did you take them in stride and not seek the counsel of the Creator who fashioned you for greatness?”

“Why didn’t Arxad tell me what to do?”

“Arxad?” Brinella said. “How is a dragon, even a good and noble one, to know what the Creator wishes for you to do? How can he discern your path? Only the Creator can provide that knowledge.”

“If the Creator knows my path, then how can I do anything but walk on it?”

“Oh, my dear Starlighter, you always have the choice to depart from the path. It is set there so that you may fulfill your part in the Creator’s purposes, but you are free to step away. The Creator is able to find another to take your place.”

Koren stared at the girl in black. It was like looking in a mirror and seeing the twisted face of a demonic twin. Was she transforming into this phantasm? A dark reflection of herself who answered every challenge with an excuse?

Shuddering, she shook her head. No. It couldn’t be. At least it
wouldn’t
be. She would stay on the path and battle Taushin and Zena. Somehow she would free her people.

Deference stopped. She and her aura dimmed, and the visions evaporated.

“We’re here,” Deference said.

Double doors, white and reflective, stood closed before them. A pair of black wooden handles protruded near the center, each one carved into the shape of a dragon’s head. As large as the Zodiac’s entry doors, these could easily have allowed a dragon to pass through, but the handles appeared to be too small for a dragon to grasp.

Deference waved a hand toward the entrance. “This is as far as I can take you.”

“Thank you for being my guide,” Koren said. “I suppose I could have found it myself, though.”

Deference shook her glowing head. “You would not have found it. Everyone needs a guide.” She turned and walked away, skipping at times as she hurried down the hall. Soon her aura turned down a branching passageway and disappeared, leaving only a dim light that seemed to radiate from the walls.

Koren pivoted back to the doors. She reached out and touched an ear on one of the dragon heads. With all the strangeness in this castle, she half expected the dragon to snap at her, but it remained still and silent. She slowly spread her fingers over the handle and pulled, but the door didn’t budge. She tried to turn the handle, but it wouldn’t move, not even an inch.

The dragon within her palm grew warm, then hot. She jerked away. The dragon head had turned white, or at least the part she had touched was white. She grasped the other handle and pushed and twisted to no avail. It, too, turned hot and white.

Koren set her palms on the massive door. She braced her boots on the tiles, lowered her body, and pushed again, grunting with the effort. Nothing. She might as well have been a black mouse shoving a white elephant. At least then a squeak might get his attention.

She halted. A squeak? Well, it was worth a try.

“Hello?” she called. “Is anyone there?”

No one answered.

She set her knuckles against the door. Might a knock be appropriate? Her fellow humans knocked on doors, but his was the domain of a dragon. He might not appreciate such a vulgar way of gaining attention.

Shrugging, she rapped on the door. Again, no one answered. She rapped a second time, but the doors stood in motionless silence.

She let out a huff. Why would Deference lead her here if there was no way to get in? It just didn’t make sense.

As she turned away, a low, masculine voice drifted by. “Whom do you seek?”

Koren searched for a source, but it seemed as if the voice permeated the air. “I wish to see the white dragon.”

“A wish? As a child hopes for sweetbread? Many human children cast their wishes to the stars, but their prospects for a response are the same as yours.”

Koren glanced around. The corridor remained empty. “You mean my wish won’t be fulfilled?”

“Answer for yourself. How well did the star respond to your wish when you cast it?”

“If you mean my wish to help her resurrect the star, it was more of a suggestion, and it didn’t work out very well. Brinella didn’t believe me. She thinks I’m a sorceress.”

“A fair assumption, considering your choice of dress. She has seen a sorceress dress in a similar manner.”

Koren resisted the urge to look at her clothing. It probably wouldn’t do any good to protest his use of
choice.
Grinding her teeth, she glared at the door. “Does that mean I won’t be able to see the white dragon?”

“That depends.”

She waited for him to continue, but he apparently wanted her to ask the obvious question. “Depends on what?”

“You are a Starlighter. Will you tell me a tale?”

“Uh … sure. I can do that.” She tapped a foot on the floor. “Do you have a preference? Something true? Or something I make up?”

“Oh, definitely something true. I
wish
for you to relate a very old tale. Show me your origins, how you came to this world.”

Focusing on one of the dragon heads, she pointed at herself. “Do you mean me, personally, or humans in general?”

“It makes no difference. Either will suffice.”

Koren spread out her cloak. “I will see what I can do.” She turned toward the star chamber. Although it was nowhere in sight and far below her level, it seemed easy to locate in her mind. After seeing Brinella, her own abilities made much more sense. Brinella collected the tales of Starlight and sent them out for gifted listeners to gather, streams of whispered tales that spread throughout the atmosphere, ready to be plucked and spoken again.

Taking in a breath, Koren gathered the invisible stories. Then she stooped and set a finger on the floor. A form took shape under her touch, growing as she raised her hand. The form expanded into a dragon with scales of red. She touched another spot on the floor, raising a second dragon, this one with tawny hues. She then lifted her arms, and called out, “In the midst of turmoil, death, and despair, two young dragons emerged from their hiding places, escapees from slavery who faced decisions of enormous import, decisions that could drastically alter their world.”