Free Liberator by Bryan Davis Page B

said. “None of the other Benefile could have accomplished this end.”
    “Your stubbornness will be your undoing. If the human army fails to destroy Taushin, the Benefile will be our only hope against him, and a very dangerous hope, indeed. If you refuse to swallow your pride and join them, their wrath cannot be tempered, and no one will be able to stop their rampage.”
    “And if I acquiesce and join them, what will be left for you to rule? Even if I temper their wrath, you and your brother will be victims.”
    “I plan to go there now and warn him. He and our mates and his daughter will escape, and we will begin a new—”
    “A fool’s plan. Your own wickedness is the root of every problem, and the seeds you plant in a new society will sprout new corruption. The Benefile will pursue you forever.”
    “What other options do I have?”
    “Help Koren. While it is true that her survival will not aid your purposes, such sacrifice is essential if true cleansing is to take place.”
    “I cannot go near Exodus,” Magnar said. “Cassabrie hates me because of what I did to her, and now she has the power to gain revenge. If she were to see me, she would try to destroy me. At the very least, her anger at me might delay the collection of a stardrop. She is crafty and keeps her own counsel. You know this to be true.”
    “I know of her past unpredictability, but perhaps she will surprise you. Humans are a changeable lot, as are dragons.”
    The air fell silent. Only the rumbling breathing of two dragons interrupted the stillness.
    Finally, Magnar spoke again. “You ask too much. I would be executing myself.” The beating of wings returned, along with a whipping wind. Then the sounds subsided as quickly as they began.
    Koren clenched her eyes tightly shut. It seemed that her life force was seeping out, drawn from her body by the vacuum in Magnar’s wake. The healing particles were wearing off. She would die before Uriel could return, and the medicine wouldn’t be tested, at least not until Uriel manifested the disease. But would that be too late? Every minute they waited was another minute Edison and his men marched farther away.
    Uriel.
She let the name sink into her mind. Could he really be her father? She followed with another name.
Orson.
That lovely word had comforted her through many lonely nights. Exhausted from slave labors, she had often collapsed into bed, closed her eyes, and echoed his melodic voice.
I love you, little K.
Yet no image of his face ever came to mind, only his voice, and Uriel’s cry wasn’t the same. The voice that followed Orson’s goodnight kiss was always quiet, reassuring, a blanket of comfort and protection. Uriel’s tone reflected fear and desperation.
    She forced out a whispered word. “Alaph?”
    “Do not try to speak with your voice,” Alaph said. “Use your gifts if you must communicate with me.”
    With pain roaring through her body, Koren bit down on her tongue. Could she conjure another image of herself?
    Concentrating on the space between her bed and the one next to it, she tried to form a copy of herself. As before with Edison, her phantom form appeared as a thin fog, barely visible. She pointed the image’s face toward Alaph, who now stood at the foot of her bed. His smooth white scales reflected lantern light, and thin red lines that crisscrossed his skin like a scarlet spider web seemed to pulse.
    Koren cast thoughts at her foggy apparition. “Alaph, is Uriel really my father?”
    “He is, child. It is a long story, but I will tell you a portion. When you died hundreds of years ago, Arxad and I preserved your spirit using the Reflections Crystal that now resides in the Zodiac. We knew Starlight would need you. Unfortunately, I no longer have the Reflections Crystal we used to capture your spirit, so if you die now, you will go to be with the Creator. In that case, we would have to battle the forces of evil without a Starlighter.”
    Koren’s image spread out her