by Alan Tucker
“What’s wrong with him?” Sara asked. “Why does he want to destroy everything?”
They turned into the stout building they had been using as a base for the government. The air inside was stifling. Without venti’i to circulate the air or regulate temperature, the stone buildings sucked up the heat from the summer sun and held it, making it seem like they’d stepped into an oven.
They paused briefly in an open area being used as a mess hall and grabbed a small plate of bread and cheese and two cups of water. Then Ba’ize led the way to the small room he had claimed as an office and work area. The air there was less oppressive since it was deep inside the building and Ba’ize kept the door closed. He lit a couple of candles and sat behind his stone desk. He indicated for her to sit and offered her the plate.
Sara sat but declined the food. It was too hot to eat. She simply sipped her water and waited for him to gather his thoughts.
He chewed a piece of cheese, then said, “First of all, understand that Mogritas is very old. He was Mayor of Seren’naie over three hundred years ago.”
Sara stared at him in shock.
Ba’ize continued, “I learned much of what I know about the city and the office of Mayor from his notes — each Mayor keeps a personal journal during his time in office and they are all passed on to the next Mayor. At any rate, Mogritas was the first one to realize the bindings on the elemental spirits would eventually fail. I suspect now he had a much better idea of exactly when that would happen than he let on at the time.”
“So what happened? Did he get voted out or something?” Sara asked him.
Ba’ize chuckled. “No, the office of Mayor is generally a lifetime post. The Council selects a Mayor based on his body of research and knowledge. The word, Seren’naie, means Mother’s Reason, in the ancient tongue. Usually, the Mayor has been selected from a group of Elvorstrastenai scholars.
“There have been a few times across the centuries a Mayor has been removed from office — mostly cases of senility in those who were very old — but only once did the Mayor leave office of his own accord, in the prime of life.”
“Mogritas,” Sara guessed.
“Exactly. His views on how Seren’naie should be governed clashed with those of the Council. Not so much the Council sought to remove him from office, but it greatly frustrated him that they wouldn’t see things his way. The Mayor has very little actual power — Council votes render the final decisions on most issues. Knowledge and respect are the most formidable tools of the Mayor. A successful Mayor can influence the Council by his presence and logic. Mogritas was an incredibly learned man, but he lacked the patience necessary to turn the Council in the direction he wanted.”
“So, he just threw up his hands and left?”
“Essentially, yes. His departure was quite unexpected and sudden from what I’ve read. He disappeared for a time, then gained control over the fortress to the north, which, in the time of the dragons over a thousand years ago, was the center of government, like Seren’naie is now.” Ba’ize stopped and pulled off a piece of bread.
“So, what did he want to do that was so bad?”
Ba’ize sipped his drink and answered, “From what I gather, he wanted to ‘expand our horizons ‘— his words — which meant he wanted to build a fleet of ships and create an ‘army of exploration’ — again, his words from his journal.”
“Sounds like he just wanted more power,” Sara said.
“Likely that’s what the Council of the time thought as well and why they didn’t approve his projects.”
There was a knock at the door.
“Enter,” Ba’ize called.
Rodrin poked his head inside. “Something’s happening. Come quickly, Your Honor!”
Ba’ize and Sara abandoned their snack and followed Rodrin outside and back to the guard towers.
They were sweating and breathing hard by the time they arrived. Sara saluted Captain Herina and looked across the grassland to where the army was camped, their armor and weapons glinting brightly in the late afternoon sun. It didn’t take long to realize what the fuss was about.
Brandon had arrived.
He lay at the back of the encampment and was the center of much activity.
“The dragon arrived a few minutes ago with a few passengers and four black cylinders,” Captain Herina reported.
Ba’ize nodded and watched the camp with the rest of them.
They waited and watched for perhaps a half hour or more, then they saw a figure get onto Brandon’s back. Brandon launched himself in the air, and turned toward the city. He glided gracefully down and landed on the roadway leading from the entrance bridge.
The figure riding on Brandon’s back stood up, and Sara thought she saw his feet change shape to keep a firmer hold on the scaly spine. He had long black hair, tied in a pony tail, and wore an all black suit, trimmed with burgundy lapels. Just from his air of authority, Sara assumed he must be Mogritas.
“Greetings, citizens of Seren’naie!” Mogritas called out.
Ba’ize straightened and called back, “I would bid you welcome, Mogritas, but we both know that would be a lie … and I don’t like to lie.”
“Charming … Ba’ize is it? I’m pleased to finally meet you. I’ve heard much about you over the years,” Mogritas said, focusing his attention on Seren’naie’s Mayor.
“I’m sure you have,” Ba’ize responded. “Please, tell me why you have brought an army to our doorstep.”
Mogritas frowned slightly. “Not one for social pleasantries, Your Honor? Very well. I’m here to reclaim something of mine … your title.”
Sara supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised, but the calm confidence of Mogritas had taken her aback. On her right, Captain Herina looked ready to spit nails. Ba’ize, to her left, simply chuckled.
“Is that all?” Ba’ize asked.
Mogritas smiled. “No, there is one more thing. You are holding a young girl by the name of Carrie Minch. Her mother wishes to have her returned.”
“No one is being ‘held’ here, as you well know,” Ba’ize said icily.
“Nevertheless,” Mogritas replied, “she, and you, must be presented to me by morning or I will be forced to take action. I do hope that will give you enough time to find her in that shambles of a city you have created from your ignorance.” Mogritas shook his head. “Such a waste.”
Sara placed a hand on Captain Herina’s arm. She looked ready to leap from the tower and attack Mogritas right there on Brandon’s back.
Ba’ize was steady. “You’ll have your answer in the morning.”
Mogritas inclined his head slightly. “Until morning then.”
Brandon turned and flew the short distance to the waiting army. Sara noticed Brandon had a large amount of cloth wrapped around his feet, and wondered why.
Captain Herina spat, “I’d like to carve that smile right off his face! That arrogant —”
“At ease Captain,” Ba’ize said.
Sara’s commander composed herself. “Yes, Your Honor. My apologies.”
“None needed,” Ba’ize replied. “I’d take pleasure in doing the same myself. Please alert the Council and have them assemble in our new chambers.”
The captain saluted. “Of course, Your Honor.”
He then turned to Sara. “And would you please locate Carrie and have her join us?”
Sara nodded and saluted. “Yes, Your Honor.”
44
Jenni woke to a sky blazing with stars.
She could feel the life around her, taste it almost. Mother lived and breathed in a way Earth just couldn’t match. One thing Mother didn’t have though — her parents. She cried at the thought of losing them for a second time.
Crank sat up and put an arm around her. Mr. Kain stayed on the ground and groaned.
“I’m not sure how much I like this ‘conduit’ thing.”
“Just rest for a minute, Crank and I will go find some Tolenton’naie,” Jenni said, composing hers
elf.
She remembered some bushes to the north that she, Sara, and Tori had found when they had first arrived. She and Crank asked for several of the fruit and returned to Mr. Kain. He ate two in short order and managed to sit up.
“Brandon and the others have almost a day’s head start on us,” Jenni lamented. “I’d better fly up and see what I can find.”
“Their trail shouldn’t be hard to follow,” Crank said, pointing to the south. Tire tracks ran along the lake shore, then turned east, heading through the trees.
Jenni nodded. “I’ll be back in a little while.”
“Be careful,” Crank said.
Jenni created her leathery wings, somewhat self-conscious that she wore only “created” clothing. Then she took off, following the tracks.
Crank was correct: the trail was easily seen from the air. The truck had been driven through the thinly forested area and down into the hilly grasslands around Crank’s village. Jenni saw the devastation that had been wrought on the small community and, again, felt guilty for all the pain and suffering she and the others had caused Crank and his people.
The tracks turned north, following a small river running east of the village. They must be looking for a place to cross.
After a couple of miles, the river had become shallow enough for the truck to cross, and Jenni picked up the trail on the other side, heading east again.
A few minutes later she saw a dark shape lying in the grass along the tracks. She flew closer and saw it was one of the Gobinstratstorai she had seen with Brandon. He lay, unmoving, staring at the night sky. He’s dead! Jenni realized.
She landed nearby and did her best to control her stomach. She had seen creatures die since she had come to Mother, but she’d never been this close. The Gobinstratstorai had burns and open sores on his hands and arms, and he looked almost human. They must have been transforming, just like Crank.
Jenni leapt skyward again, following the trail. She encountered three more bodies, much like the first. Jenni didn’t stop to investigate, but flew on, hoping to catch up with the truck.
Soon, she saw light up ahead in the tall grass. The truck had stopped, but still had its headlights on. She didn’t see anyone around.
Jenni circled once then landed and walked to the front of the truck. Then she saw someone was sitting in the driver’s seat. He turned his head slowly and looked at her.
“Oh, hey, Jenni,” Todd said tiredly. The truck’s engine was off, and he sat woodenly, with his hands on the wheel.
Surprised, she said cautiously, “Um, hi, Todd … what’s goin’ on?”
“Hm?” he said in a daze. “Oh … Well, Brandon and those guys left and I’m supposed to drive the truck as far as I can.” He paused again. “But it ran out of gas.”
“I saw some of your other friends back there … what happened?” Jenni asked him.
Todd stared out the window ahead of him for a moment before answering. “They couldn’t heal like me. Radiation got ‘em. I’m startin’ to think this wasn’t such a good idea.”
Jenni was confused, but knew time wasn’t on her side. “Where are Brandon and the others?”
“He took some of the barrels to meet up with the army. I was the only one who could drive the truck, so … yeah.”
Jenni wondered briefly how many barrels Brandon could carry, but at least most of the dangerous material was still here, out of harm’s way. She had to get moving if she was going to have a chance to catch them. “Todd, you better get away from this stuff, even if you can heal, you don’t look so good.”
He turned and looked at her again. “Do you hate me, Jenni?”
What a strange question! She looked at his tired eyes, enormous ears and thin, elongated limbs. “No, Todd, I don’t hate you. I feel sorry for you,” she said, and meant it.
He nodded once and put his head on the steering wheel. Jenni thought he might be crying. She shook her head and took off, flying as fast as she could back to Crank and her friends.
She found them in the trees, following the truck’s trail.
“Jenni!” Crank said with relief. “We were worried about you.”
“I’m okay. I found the truck.” She related what she’d seen and that Brandon and the others had gone on to Seren’naie to meet up with Mogritas’s army.
She tried to change into the dragon form she’d used on Earth, but couldn’t do it, as she’d suspected. Everything felt wrong again.
“Go without us,” Mr. Kain said. “You’re the only one that has a chance of catching up with them in time to do something.”
“But I can’t just leave you guys here by yourselves!”
“We’ll be fine. Mr. Kain’s right, Jenni, you have to go,” Crank implored her. “Matt can make us another boat and Bonnie can take us down river just like before. We’ll get there soon enough.”
“He’s right,” Mrs. Osorio said, “but you can take Lori and I with you, in case we can reach Zoe along the way.”
Mr. Kain nodded. “That sounds good. Take Crank’s small bag with as much Tolenton’naie as you can fit.” He took her by the shoulders and looked in her eyes. “You can do this, Jenni. We believe in you.”
Jenni looked at both of them and slowly nodded. “Okay.”
They quickly rearranged their supplies so she could take Crank’s bag and they filled it with Tolenton’naie. She formed a pocket to hold Mrs. Osorio securely and decided she was ready. She gave Mr. Kain and Crank each a quick hug and launched herself into the night air, speeding off to the southeast as fast as she could fly.
45
Brandon was in pain.
The salve Mogritas’s people had put on his feet had helped the wounds, but the pain was still there.
He couldn’t believe just carrying those barrels could have done that much damage. By the time they had reached the army, he could barely hold onto them. His feet had been covered in burns and bleeding sores, and the muscles in his talons had begun to spasm painfully.
The surface injuries had responded quickly to the ointment, but something deeper was still wrong.
Mogritas had been very pleased and had praised him for a job well done. Brandon just wished it felt more like a “job well done” to him. He felt tired and confused.
The conversation at the entrance to the city earlier hadn’t helped his confusion. Mogritas had seemed more interested in taking over the city than getting Carrie back. And from what the man on the wall had said, Carrie wasn’t even a prisoner as Mogritas had led them to believe. Mogritas had done so much to help him though — Brandon couldn’t sort it all out.
Mrs. Minch was frantic. She didn’t want to wait until morning to see Carrie. Mogritas had done his best to calm her by setting her to work with the earth spirit to create the counterweight needed for the catapult. She had found several other spirits wandering the area and had been able to get their help as well.
“Are you feeling better, my friend?”
Brandon hadn’t noticed Mogritas’s approach and was momentarily startled.
“Yeah, some. The stuff they spread on my feet helped, but they still hurt.”
Mogritas nodded. “The poison you brought is very powerful, but I’m sure we’ll be able to find something to finish the healing.” He gazed toward the city. “Seren’naie won’t be as lucky I’m sure.”
“About that,” Brandon said, “what was all that about wanting that old man’s title and stuff? I thought we were here to get Carrie.”
Mogritas smiled. “I’m sorry I didn’t have time to explain things earlier. Ba’ize — the old man — is the leader of the city, and he would never have believed that I had brought an army here solely for the purpose of retrieving the girl. So I simply told him what he expected to hear.”
That made Brandon feel more at ease. He couldn’t believe Mogritas, who had shown him so many kindnesses, had been lying all this time.
A commotion erupted by the catapult. Mrs. Minch’s voice could be heard over the shouts of others.
Mogritas sighed. “Get some rest, my friend. It appears I am needed to calm poor Kathy yet again.”
Brandon nodded and laid his head on the ground. He was quickly asleep, even over the din created by the upset Mrs. Minch.
* * * *
Brandon woke a short while before dawn. He felt better, and although there was still a dull ache in his feet, much of the weariness from the day before had vanished.
Two herd beasts had been killed and left nearby and he set into them eagerly. The pain the day before had taken his appetite, but now he was famished. It didn’t take him long to devour both carcasses.
Once he was finished, the Gobinstratstorai that had tended his wounds before came to check on the bandages. He seemed very nervous and Brandon looked down and saw the bandages on his front feet were soaked in blood from his meal. I really need to learn how to not be such a messy eater, he lamented.
Brandon helped remove the bandages as much as he could so the healer could look at his feet. New skin and scales were already growing, and although everything was still tender, the healer seemed pleased with the progress. He repeated the procedure on Brandon’s back legs. Finally, the healer poured a large bottle of a syrupy liquid into a trough they had brought for Brandon to drink from. He stirred the water to mix it in, and indicated Brandon should drink it all.
Brandon nodded and thanked him, then set to drink.
The rest of the camp was waking up and making preparations for the day. Brandon felt an air of anticipation, and everyone was ready and waiting when the first movement appeared at the entrance to the city.
The city’s guard force formed up just outside the circular canal that bordered Seren’naie — about a hundred yards away from the camp. Brandon saw they numbered maybe half of what Mogritas had brought, though the city’s forces were better armed.
Next, two figures walked over the bridge from the city, hand in hand, past the guards and toward Mogritas’s army. Brandon focused his vision and recognized them as fully a transformed Carrie and Marco. They walked until they were about twenty yards away and stopped.
Mrs. Minch screeched at someone, then broke free and ran to Carrie. She hugged Carrie tightly, as if she never wanted to let go. Carrie returned the hug, but not as vigorously. Mrs. Minch sobbed with joy, her huge ears shaking.
