slaves.”
“But if you and your men contract the disease, you will have no hope in defeating Taushin’s forces. I saw your army. Even healthy, your numbers are small. You are no match for the dragons.”
“If we are not willing to risk danger to save a dying girl, we should have stayed home. There are hundreds of stories just like yours — many Korens who would infectus if we were to come close.” Edison cocked his head, as if listening for something. “Besides, we’ve already come into contact with a boy who has the disease, and it sounds like he just now caught up with me. He would like to speak to you.”
“To me?” Koren asked. “Who is he?”
A boy walked into view, blinking his one eye. “Koren?
It’s me, Wallace.”
“Wallace?” Koren’s voice pitched higher. “It’s really you!”
“It’s me. And it’s true, I’ve already been infected.”
Koren’s shoulders slumped. Not Wallace. Would no one escape the invisible horror of this pestilence?
“Please come out. We’ll help you.”
She looked at Wallace’s pleading expression, then at Edison’s calm, assured demeanor. They had already sacrificed their health to save others. Accepting their help wouldn’t bring them further harm. “Okay. I’ll try.”
“No need,” Edison said. “I see you now.” He walked through her image, and the draft behind him dispersed it into nothingness. He pushed aside a bush and reached for her. “Don’t be afraid.”
She closed her eyes. Her heart beat wildly, erratically, as if ready to expire at any moment.
A shushing sound followed. “Just relax.” Hands pushed behind her back and under her knees. Arms lifted her, and a walking sensation followed. Soon the sound of water reached her ears.
“Wallace?” she said. “Are you still here?”
“I’m right here, Koren. Right next to you.”
“Hold my hand. Please. Just hold my hand.”
A warm hand slid into hers. She exhaled. Her heart slowed to a steadier rhythm. “Thank you.”
Edison let out another long shushing sound, peaceful and easy, the way Madam Orley used to shush Petra when she cried in the darkness with wordless sobs.
As the river’s sounds returned, dizziness washed to and fro, casting all of Starlight into a wild spin. Sloshing followed, then men’s voices. A dragon spoke unintelligible words.
Several hands lifted her higher and set her on something. She forced her eyes open for a brief glimpse. She sat upon a dragon. Someone slid in behind her and wrapped strong arms around her waist.
“Don’t worry. I’ve got her. I won’t let her go.”
Men held torches with fiery tops that cast wavering light on the dragon’s reddish scales.
“You’re her only chance, Magnar,” a man said. “Take her with all speed.”
“I will return to battle with you before you reach the Southlands.” Magnar’s voice sounded far away, like the low gongs of a distant bell. “I hope to bring news of a cure.”
The sound of beating wings filled Koren’s ears. Wind whipped all around, then settled to a fresh breeze. With the arms holding her tightly, she leaned back and rested. Torturous spasms throttled her aching shoulders. Her biceps twitched uncontrollably. With every dip and weave, her backside slid an inch or two on the scales, but the strong grip always brought her back to a safe position.
“It’s okay, Koren. I’m here. I won’t let you go.”
“Wallace?”
“Yes.” His hand slid into hers again. “I’m right here.”
“Good.” She squeezed his hand. “But I think I’m … I’m … about to faint.”
“Hang on, Koren. Just hang on.”
Soon, bitterly cold wind plunged frigid icicles through her saturated clothes and deep into her skin. Every minute resurrected pain — fire in her head, twisting muscles in her shoulders, a devouring beast in her belly.
Koren let her body fall limp. Fighting to stay alive didn’t help. Whether by disease or by exposure, death would come soon. It was an enemy that never
“But if you and your men contract the disease, you will have no hope in defeating Taushin’s forces. I saw your army. Even healthy, your numbers are small. You are no match for the dragons.”
“If we are not willing to risk danger to save a dying girl, we should have stayed home. There are hundreds of stories just like yours — many Korens who would infectus if we were to come close.” Edison cocked his head, as if listening for something. “Besides, we’ve already come into contact with a boy who has the disease, and it sounds like he just now caught up with me. He would like to speak to you.”
“To me?” Koren asked. “Who is he?”
A boy walked into view, blinking his one eye. “Koren?
It’s me, Wallace.”
“Wallace?” Koren’s voice pitched higher. “It’s really you!”
“It’s me. And it’s true, I’ve already been infected.”
Koren’s shoulders slumped. Not Wallace. Would no one escape the invisible horror of this pestilence?
“Please come out. We’ll help you.”
She looked at Wallace’s pleading expression, then at Edison’s calm, assured demeanor. They had already sacrificed their health to save others. Accepting their help wouldn’t bring them further harm. “Okay. I’ll try.”
“No need,” Edison said. “I see you now.” He walked through her image, and the draft behind him dispersed it into nothingness. He pushed aside a bush and reached for her. “Don’t be afraid.”
She closed her eyes. Her heart beat wildly, erratically, as if ready to expire at any moment.
A shushing sound followed. “Just relax.” Hands pushed behind her back and under her knees. Arms lifted her, and a walking sensation followed. Soon the sound of water reached her ears.
“Wallace?” she said. “Are you still here?”
“I’m right here, Koren. Right next to you.”
“Hold my hand. Please. Just hold my hand.”
A warm hand slid into hers. She exhaled. Her heart slowed to a steadier rhythm. “Thank you.”
Edison let out another long shushing sound, peaceful and easy, the way Madam Orley used to shush Petra when she cried in the darkness with wordless sobs.
As the river’s sounds returned, dizziness washed to and fro, casting all of Starlight into a wild spin. Sloshing followed, then men’s voices. A dragon spoke unintelligible words.
Several hands lifted her higher and set her on something. She forced her eyes open for a brief glimpse. She sat upon a dragon. Someone slid in behind her and wrapped strong arms around her waist.
“Don’t worry. I’ve got her. I won’t let her go.”
Men held torches with fiery tops that cast wavering light on the dragon’s reddish scales.
“You’re her only chance, Magnar,” a man said. “Take her with all speed.”
“I will return to battle with you before you reach the Southlands.” Magnar’s voice sounded far away, like the low gongs of a distant bell. “I hope to bring news of a cure.”
The sound of beating wings filled Koren’s ears. Wind whipped all around, then settled to a fresh breeze. With the arms holding her tightly, she leaned back and rested. Torturous spasms throttled her aching shoulders. Her biceps twitched uncontrollably. With every dip and weave, her backside slid an inch or two on the scales, but the strong grip always brought her back to a safe position.
“It’s okay, Koren. I’m here. I won’t let you go.”
“Wallace?”
“Yes.” His hand slid into hers again. “I’m right here.”
“Good.” She squeezed his hand. “But I think I’m … I’m … about to faint.”
“Hang on, Koren. Just hang on.”
Soon, bitterly cold wind plunged frigid icicles through her saturated clothes and deep into her skin. Every minute resurrected pain — fire in her head, twisting muscles in her shoulders, a devouring beast in her belly.
Koren let her body fall limp. Fighting to stay alive didn’t help. Whether by disease or by exposure, death would come soon. It was an enemy that never
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