Free Liberator by Bryan Davis

shelf. You have seen it, have you not?”
    “Yes, yes. I have seen it. It will do little good against those beasts, but I will take it all the same.”
    “Good. Once you reach the other side, the shining star should be easy to find in the darkness. Scoop material from the outer membrane and form a stardrop in your palms. Then bring it back here and put it in the healing tree’s hand.”
    “Are the trees still functional? They appear to be dying.”
    “They still have enough power. Normally someone with Starlighter gifts must activate the tree’s healing powers, but since Koren is a Starlighter, I believe it will work. When the stardrop particles rain from the hand, catch them and rub them into her cheeks, throat, and chest. Fear not that they might burn her skin. Healing often comes with pain. Yet, even with the stardrop, a tree cannot expel the disease, so we need to test the medicine.”
    “Very well. I will make haste.”
    “Wait for one moment, and I will explain something that will likely speed you along.”
    “If you take time to explain, she might die.” The man paused. “How strange. Somehow I sense that I have spoken those very words to you before.”
    “You did. And I answered with these words, ‘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?’ The situation was the same then as it is now. Your daughter lay dying of the disease, and you were desperate to save her.”
    “My daughter?”
    Alaph shifted to the dragon language. “Touch her head with your fingertips. Lift her eyelids and probe her orbsdeeply.” An icy breeze passed across the bed, filtering into her damp hair. “You remember the victims of the disease, Orson. You remember how it spreads and destroys. You picked up your research at the point you left it when you died. But has your mind blocked out the death that broke your heart? Have you erected a shield of protection?”
    Koren flinched. Orson? That was her father’s name. This conversation was so familiar, like a vision of the past she had conjured earlier.
    “A shield,” Orson murmured. “Protection.”
    “Look … delve deeply … remember.”
    Soft pressure ran along Koren’s forehead, then on her eyelids. They lifted, revealing the face of Uriel Blackstone.
    Koren tried to whisper Uriel’s name but couldn’t draw a deep-enough breath. Why would Alaph call him Orson?
    Uriel’s eyes, wide and piercing, shifted from side to side as if reading a book. After a few seconds, he drew in his lips and pressed them together. His chin trembled. “Koren,” he whispered, his voice pitching higher. “My little K!”
    Her lids fell closed again, darkening her vision.
My little K
, she repeated in her mind. How could Uriel know that term of endearment?
    “Where is Resolute?” Uriel’s tone spiked. “I must go immediately!”
    “I already sent her to the moat,” Alaph said. “She is waiting for you.”
    “Koren! Dearest one!” Fingers combed through her hair. “Stay alive! I will return soon!” The fingers lifted, and Uriel’s voice faded. “Pray for me!”
    Everything fell silent. Then quiet breathing drew near, and the icy breeze returned. Alaph began to hum a lilting melody that brought to mind a children’s song, a lullaby about casting the stones of labor into the river and watching them sink into darkness. A scratching sound followed, and particles of some kind sprinkled over her face. They smelled like sawdust and tickled her throat, but even the sneeze reflex found no strength to activate and propel them away.
    As a smooth, cold surface rubbed the particles into her skin, Alaph spoke. “You are a Starlighter, Koren. You have unique gifts from the Creator, yet you have not used them to their fullest. There have been many distractions that have interfered.”
    Koren forced out a weak “But,” then a sighing breath. Speaking took too much energy.
    “I know, dear child,” Alaph