Diviner (5 page)

Around the dragons, scenery appeared—a gravel path winding through a field of lush grass, leading to a cluster of low buildings in the distance. A white picket fence demarked a border for several grazing sheep that seemed to be unconcerned with the presence of dragons. A lone human male knelt in front of the dragons, his hands clasped as if in entreaty.

With every detail painted throughout the corridor, it seemed to Koren that she stood in the midst of it. She crouched and felt the grass, soft and supple. A sheep bleated, only to be interrupted by the man’s pleading voice.

“I beg of you, Magnar. You and Arxad are our only hopes.” Dressed in a clean white smock and gray trousers, the man looked ready for inside work rather than for the labors of a farm. “My two sons have already perished,” he continued, “but my daughter shows no signs of the disease. Can you save her? Can you take her to Darksphere?”

Magnar glanced at Arxad before extending a wing to help the man rise. “Orson, you know this disease better than any of us do. Can you say with all honesty that your daughter cannot carry the disease to Darksphere even if she has not yet contracted it?”

With terror in his eyes, Orson shifted his gaze from Magnar to Arxad and back to Magnar. His entire body quaked. “I … I don’t know. It’s possible for her to be a clean vessel if we—”

“Possible?” Magnar said. “If you want the human race to survive, we have no room for
possible.
We must deal only with certainty. If your daughter dies along with the countless thousands of others, what price is that for ultimate survival? She will be just another human who succumbed to the disease you brought upon yourselves.”

“Magnar,” Arxad said, “she is not just another human to Orson. I suggest that you offer a bit more compassion.”

“Compassion?” Smoke spewed from Magnar’s nostrils. “Was it compassion that drove humans to enslave our race? Was it compassion that compelled them to plunge a spear into the heart of our guiding star? No! They have no knowledge of compassion. They seek only comfort, freedom from labors, selfish satisfaction. They prefer to heap misery upon others, refusing to listen to the warnings provided from above. Instead of heeding, they attacked. Such fools deserve no compassion.”

Arxad waved a wing at Orson. “You know he is not one of the fools. He has never owned a dragon, and he has often spoken against our enslavement.”

“Yes, yes, I know.” His eyes glowing red, Magnar clawed the ground. “But did he not continue friendship with the taskmasters? While he imbibed with the intoxicated in comfort, our kind continued to toil in chains. He who numbers himself with the guilty, even if not participating in their deeds, will find himself washed away in the flood of righteous retribution.”

Orson extended his clasped hands again. “Forgive me, Magnar! I was a fool! I did seek my own comfort. I listened to my fears. I desired the favor of other fools rather than the approval of the Almighty. I should have done much more. But why should my daughter be punished for my folly? She is only an infant and bears no guilt in my affairs.”

Magnar turned his head away. “How many other infants have already perished because of the foolishness of adults? Why should your daughter be exempt from—”

“Magnar!” Arxad extended his neck and whispered in Magnar’s ear. “Let us speak in private.”

The two shuffled several paces away. Still whispering, Arxad continued. “We must appease Orson to some extent. His genetic keys are essential to our plan, and he has yet to deliver the final sequence.”

Magnar’s brow rose as he whispered in response, “Is this a scheme to manipulate us? We cannot risk saving his daughter. You know this.”

“Yes, I know, but we can speak hope to him. His wife died giving birth to the girl, so he is a desperately grieving man. Allow me to find the words.”

“Very well, but take care. You have trapped yourself in vows too many times.”

When the two dragons returned to Orson, Arxad set a wing on his back. “You are the genetics expert, and we are relying on you for accurate information. The survival of your race depends on your complete honesty. When you deliver the final sequence, we will examine your daughter thoroughly. If you are able to convince me that she has no trace of the disease, you may place her in the clean room. I will include her in the transport.”

“Arxad!” Magnar shouted. “You promise too much!”

Arxad looked down and dug a claw mark in the turf. “What I have promised, I have promised.”

Orson leaped to his feet. “Oh, thank you, good dragon! Thank you! You will not regret this. I will have the final sequence ready by tomorrow. I will not fail you.”

He turned and ran along the path toward the distant buildings.

When Orson was out of earshot, Magnar growled. “Do you really believe Orson’s examination will yield any hint of that disease? He will falsify the data to save his daughter.”

“I have researched this disease thoroughly. I will not be easily duped.”

“Not easily, but Orson is a genius. He will find a way to convince you.”

Arxad watched Orson as he shrank in the distance. “I realize that a father’s love is a great motivator. I will be careful.”

The farm setting vanished, as did Magnar, but Arxad remained. A new scene painted itself around him, a large room with no windows. The walls appeared to be made of smooth wood, dark and polished to a sheen. A long table sat at the center of the wooden floor, and two eggs the size of hefty pumpkins perched at one end, nestled in a large wicker basket. Oddly shaped glassware stood at the center of the table, partially filled with liquids of various colors, some with tubes rising from their narrowed tops.

Arxad studied an object lying on the opposite end of the table, something that had not yet fully formed in Koren’s vision. His head swayed over it, and a growling yet sweet melody arose from his throat, the sound of a dragon humming.

The object began to clarify, a bassinet of woven straw. Orson materialized in front of the table, sitting cross-legged on the floor. With his head drooping near his chest, he seemed to be weary or sick.

Koren walked to the table and looked into the bassinet. A girl lay inside. Thick red hair covered her head, but closed lids concealed the color of her eyes. She breathed sporadically, fitfully, her little brow wrinkling.

“The end is close,” Arxad said. “She will not survive the night.”

Orson pushed against the floor, struggled to his feet, and staggered toward Arxad. With his hands bracing his body on the side of the table, he peered into the bassinet. “All is lost for my family. Justice is served, the penalty carried out. I prayed for mercy, though I deserved none. I asked the Creator to forgive me of my foolishness, my selfishness, and my pathetic excuses, but he has rightfully denied my pleas. I have done nothing to deserve anything but death. Yet I don’t understand why my daughter must suffer. She has done nothing to warrant such pain.”

“She will not suffer long. She will be in the Creator’s arms in mere moments.”

“I hope beyond hope that I will join her.” Orson leaned over the bassinet and kissed the girl on the cheek. “I love you little K,” he whispered.

Koren gasped. Did he really say that? Those were the same words she whispered to herself night after night, the only memory she had of her own father. What could this mean?

A loud bang sounded. Koren spun toward the noise. A door in this tale’s vision had slammed open, allowing dim moonlight to spill through an entryway, a cave-like arch much bigger than necessary for a human abode. In a flurry of wings and scratching claws, a white dragon burst through and settled on the floor. Carrying a sphere of clear crystal in his clawed hands, he shuffled closer.

Orson trembled. “Why are you here? Are we already …” He swallowed hard. “Already dead?”

Arxad bowed low. When he lifted his head again, he looked at the white dragon, his ears perking straight up. “Has the time come?”

“Soon. The portal is forming even as we speak.” He stretched his neck toward the bassinet. A network of thin red lines appeared on his white scales. “Is the girl dead?”

“Very close,” Arxad said. “Mere moments.”

“Then I will take the time to explain.” The white dragon lifted the sphere. “This is a —”

“What?” Orson shouted. “If you’re who I think you are, then you can heal her, but if you take time to explain, she might die.”

The white dragon spoke in an even tone. “You prayed for mercy. Is it up to your discretion how that mercy is delivered or the manner or timing the deliverer chooses to employ?”

“No.” Orson wobbled in place. “Not at all. I didn’t mean to offend you. I just —”

“Lack understanding. I know.” The white dragon’s voice carried neither anger nor sympathy. “If you will stay silent for a moment, you will gain that which you lack.”

Orson raised shaking fingers to his lips and spoke between them. “I will be quiet. Please forgive my haste.”

“Forgive?” The white dragon’s eyes pulsed blue. “In a moment, you will see for yourself whether or not forgiveness has been granted.” He placed the crystalline sphere on the table. With dozens of smooth facets making up its clear surface, it was able to sit without rolling. “I call this a Reflections Crystal. When you learn its properties, you will see that it is an appropriate name, but for now I must demonstrate an ability that you would think is beyond reason unless you see it for yourself.”

Arxad drew his head closer to the sphere. “If I may ask, King Alaph, what is the purpose of this demonstration?”

“To ensure that your plan succeeds. You are transporting an embryo in each of those eggs, which will result in life, but long-term human survival depends on another factor.”

“We verified that the human younglings within are free from the disease,” Arxad said, “and the virus cannot penetrate the shells. They are male and female with a wide genetic pool, so they should procreate efficiently for multiple generations, and I will care for them until they are of age. What aspect have I missed?”

“You have done well, but there remains a danger that you were unable to detect.” Alaph set a foreclaw above the sphere. It rose a few inches and hovered in place over the table’s surface. “The fate of humankind hangs from a bare thread. The younglings will likely survive and breed, but our world still needs a Starlighter.”

“To replace the one within the star?” Arxad asked. “What happened to her? Where is she now?”

“Leave her fate to me. For now you must collect genetic material from Orson and his daughter.”

Arxad turned toward Orson. His body lay slumped over the table. The girl’s tight forehead was now slack, and her chest heaved no more.

Alaph pressed both foreclaws against the sphere. It flashed with brilliant light, casting a white glow around the room. A pair of misty forms appeared in the light, somewhat human in shape yet without substance. They stretched out and, as if funneling through a tube, streamed into the sphere. Alaph guided the crystal back down to the table. As soon as it touched the surface, the light blinked out. “Those bodies are but shells now, but Orson and his daughter are safe inside the crystal. Collect the genetic material. You will need it in order to restore them at the proper time, and I will show you how to reconstitute them, both their bodies and their spirits.”

“I will do as you say, good king, but whatever I collect will be infected. Is that a concern?”

Alaph gave Arxad a slow nod. “A grave concern. If the virus reactivates, they could spread it to their fellow humans, and we would face a new pandemic.”

“Then why take such a risk?”

“Because without another Starlighter, humans and dragons alike will be doomed.”

Arxad laid a clawed hand on one of the eggs. “Can a Starlighter arise from the two younglings we are saving?”

“The possibility exists, but we cannot count on chance. We must preserve what we know and have available.” Alaph touched the top of the crystal, his expression anxious. “This little one has the potential to do what she must to save all of Starlight. Still, since she is extraordinarily gifted, if she decides to follow a darker path, the damage could be catastrophic.”

“The risk seems greater with every word you speak.” Arxad shook his head, a look of resignation on his face.

“As you said, we cannot count on chance. Perhaps we should simply force her to obey.”

A low growl rumbled in the white dragon’s throat. “She must act freely, from a heart of love, without chains or compulsion. Chains will lead her to destruction. Chains never lead to love.”

The scene vanished, leaving Koren alone in the silent corridor.

Gasping for breath, she rapped on the door. “Are you there?”

No one answered. She drew back and stared at the white doors. They seemed to glower at her, annoyed at her pounding knuckles. “Are you the white dragon?” she called.

Silence.

“Answer me!”

Her words echoed, fading until silence again ensued, bringing with it a sense of lostness, loneliness, abandonment.

As tears welled, she hugged herself. What had she seen? Who was that little girl? Herself as an infant? Her father’s name was Orson, but was this Orson her real father?

She repeated his words in a whisper. “I love you, little K.”

Koren dragged her teeth across her bottom lip. Tears dripped to her cheeks. He
was
her father. He had to be. But how could her mother have died giving birth? Memories of Mother were real, nothing that a newborn infant could have remembered.

Turning slowly in place, she cried out, “Why did you want me to tell this tale? What do you want me to do?”

The white dragon’s final words echoed in the air, as if recalled by her plea. “Chains never lead to love.”

Koren looked at her wrists. The abrasions had almost faded, but the memory of the manacles had not. How many times had she reminded herself that love doesn’t need chains? Yet here she was, following Taushin’s orders as if the manacles were still clamped in place.

The air, now quiet, seemed empty, void of any guidance. Nothing more could be done here. It was time to return to Taushin. What choice did she have?

She shuffled along the hall, retracing her steps. More than ever it seemed as if chains dragged against her ankles. She was still a slave, still in bonds. But what could she do to break free? The white dragon wouldn’t allow her to come in. Brinella had spurned her. Taushin watched her every move through her own traitorous eyes. It was hopeless.