by Finley Aaron
Judy’s eyes glisten with hope, and I know she’s in favor of my idea. “Mike would help us, too. And maybe we could find other dragons—”
“There are no other dragons. And we would need many to help. The frozen ones are weak—”
I don’t let her finish her excuses. “There may be other dragons.”
“Your father hunts them down and captures them. He has creatures that can identify a dragon by scent, and track it until he can capture it. All the dragons left in the world, he has captured.”
“He hasn’t captured us,” Judy notes.
Mother looks like she wants to protest. Her mouth is open, but she can’t seem to find the words.
“If we exist,” I whisper, “others may.”
“And if we could find them, we could free the others,” Judy adds.
Mother shakes her head—not in protest this time, but more like she can’t believe she’s letting us talk her into our crazy plan. “Perhaps. Perhaps, someday, if you find more dragons, if you train hard and learn all you can, perhaps then, you can return and help me free the others. But before any of that can happen, first and foremost and most importantly, you must escape from here without your father knowing you exist. Do you understand the importance of that? If you don’t get out of here alive, none of what’s possible will ever come to pass.”
Chapter Eighteen
Judy and I agree with our mother’s assessment. Mother teleports away to hunt more meat, while the two of us eat as much as we can swallow. I can feel my strength reviving.
We’ve finished off everything and have laid back to rest when our mother returns. She’s quiet at first, and we don’t wake up until the smell of roast beast reaches our nostrils.
I’m not sure how long I’ve been asleep, but in spite of being too full to eat another bite earlier, now my stomach is growling.
Of course it is.
We eat and rest off and on for the better part of a day or more—it’s hard to tell time deep in the mountain. During that time mother comes and goes, bringing us meat along with reassurances that our father has not yet returned. Though we sleep hard during most of her absences, in between, I discuss our escape plans with Judy.
“We need a place to teleport to—somewhere close enough we can reach it without using up all our strength.”
Judy wracks her brain with me, trying to think of a place we know well from our trip to France, but both of us are forced to agree that most of the places we know are either too public to teleport to (even a hotel room is likely to have other people staying in it, and they won’t take kindly to our sudden appearance in their room), or we can’t recall enough of what it looked like to picture ourselves there.
“The Eiffel Tower is closed during the wee hours of the night,” I remind her. “It’s the best place I can think of to go.”
Our mother likes the idea. “It’s also high off the ground, which will give you an advantage for taking off in flight.”
“Flight?” My stomach flip-flops at the idea. I’ve always wanted to fly, but that’s only possible in dragon form, isn’t it? And Master Sparks warned us strongly against turning into dragons.
Mother must be able to pick up on my feelings, because she addresses me as though she’s breaking difficult news. “You’re going to have to turn into dragons to get back to Nebraska. There’s no way you can teleport that distance again, not without a longer rest. And it simply isn’t safe for me to try to hide you once your father returns. I am taking a huge risk, even now—but only because you are not strong enough to leave yet. You’ll have to fly at least part of the way home.”
On a certain level, I know she’s right. That’s why we’ve been trying to think of a place nearby to teleport to, isn’t it? But still, there are major liabilities involved with turning into dragons, which is why we’ve refused to do so—why we went to such lengths not to, really.
“If we turn into dragons, our eyes will change,” Judy whispers.
“We’ll be harder to hide, and easier to identify forever after that.” I add.
“It’s that, or stay here and get captured,” Mother says with a sigh.
“Or teleport to France and try to live there until we’ve regained the strength to teleport home,” Judy offers.
“That is an option,” I realize aloud. “Really, if we can find a place near the Eiffel Tower where we can hunt, we could hide out for a few days—”
“In winter?” Mother asks. “As a dragon, yes, you wouldn’t mind the cold so much. But in human form, no.” She shakes her head firmly. “France has mild winters, but not that mild, not in early January. Besides, how will you get down from the tower if you can’t fly?”
I’d suggest teleporting to the base of the tower, but Judy and I have already established that we don’t remember that part nearly so well—just that it was crowded the morning we visited.
And we don’t dare teleport into the midst of a crowd.
“There’s no way around it,” Judy admits after a long thoughtful silence. “We’ll have to change into dragons.”
“But you still need to eat more,” Mother offers. “You’ve almost finished this. I’ll go hunt for more food.”
As she has a few times already, Mother teleports away.
She arrives far sooner than we expected her back, and she has no meat with her. Instead, her face has gone pale, and her eyes are wide. “Your father has returned.”
“What?” I look round the room, half expecting him to appear at any moment—which he very well could.
“He’s talking to some men in another part of the compound. I’m glad I thought to check on my way out. He didn’t see me, but he’ll almost certainly be down here before long. We’ve got to go.”
“Are we strong enough to teleport through the mountain and most of France?” Judy asks in a shaking voice.
“I’ll get you through as much of the mountain as I can.” Mother is digging in the back of a large wardrobe. She pulls out a bundled blanket and unwraps it. “While you were sleeping earlier, I picked these up for you from the laundry services. They’re guard uniforms, unwashed, but the scent will cover yours. Most of your father’s guards are not entirely human. Quick, put them on.”
As I hurry to change, Mother explains, “The two of you can follow me down the hall. I will lead you up through the fortress as far as I can. To anyone who notices us, it will look like I am being escorted under guard.”
“What happens if we encounter our father?” Judy asks.
“He’ll know you aren’t one of his real guards.” Mother helps us slip into the uniforms. “You’ll have to teleport away, then. But we shouldn’t encounter him until we’re higher in the mountain, with less rock for you to teleport through. It’s the best I can do.”
By this time, I’ve got the pants on, and I’m smoothing down the jacket.
Judy’s got her pants switched out, but she’s still wearing the top she had on before. “I don’t want to leave you, Mother. I’ve wondered about you for so long.”
Mother pulls her into a quick hug, then tugs Judy’s sweatshirt off like she’s dressing a small child. “You’ve got to go. I may find you again, if the time is right. I know where to look now.” She throws the guard jacket on over Judy’s t-shirt. “Your plan is a good one. Someday, you may return and free the others. But until then, know that I love you.”
Finished helping Judy dress, Mother gives me a quick, tight hug. “I love you both, more than words can say. But now we’ve got to hurry. Heads up, look tough, and stay on my heels.”
She freezes with her hand on the doorknob. “Oh, one other thing.” She darts across the room and pulls a framed picture from the wall. “This is your father. If you see this man, teleport away immediately.”
The picture is of Mother with a dark-haired man. They’re both in World War Two era clothing, and neither of them are smiling.
A strange feeling pools in my stomach. This man, this monster who’s imprisoned nearly all of the dragons in t
he world, who abuses his own species in hopes of gaining wealth and power, who is powerful and wealthy and cruel, to be feared more than nearly anything. This man is my father.
I can see my own resemblance to him.
It’s a terrifying feeling, but I don’t have time to dwell on it.
Mother opens the door. The guard, who’s standing beside the door, wearing a uniform just like ours, looks up. Mother snaps a back fist to his temple as she steps past.
He slumps to the ground.
She proceeds quickly down the hallway.
Judy and I pull the door closed behind us, and hurry to keep up.
For the first length of hallway, Mother walks at a brisk pace. Then she slows to a somber, almost formal rate of walking. As we round a corner, I can see why.
A couple of guards are stationed at either side of a wide stairway.
My heart hammers inside my chest. Will they stop us? We don’t look like them. They don’t know us, won’t recognize us…
It takes all my focus to keep my steps even, to hold my head high and not show any fear. At any moment, I expect one of them to extend the spear he’s holding, and bar our way.
But neither of them twitch. They’re staring straight ahead, their faces firm, almost scowling.
We proceed up the stairs, our footsteps in synchronized rhythm.
There are another set of guards at the top of the stairs, but they’re looking down the hallway, so they mostly see our backs.
We’re making it! We’re doing this! Already we’re higher inside the mountain—that was a long staircase.
We turn a corner and proceed down another hallway. Up ahead is a doorway on our right, this one guarded by a single guard. He’s staring straight ahead like the others. By now, I’m feeling more confident that we’ll walk by without incident.
Indeed, as Mother steps past him, he doesn’t blink.
But Judy and I are two steps behind her, and the guard cocks his head to the side. His eyes begin to narrow and his lips curl back, his mouth opening, sound rising in his throat.
I’m to Judy’s right, the closest to the guard, stepping nearly even with the man as he opens his mouth to question us or raise an alarm.
He doesn’t get a chance to do either. I pop my arm up in a practiced back fist, the same move Master Sparks has drilled us in hundreds of times.
I intend to connect with the man’s temple, just as my mother did outside her room, but the guard spots the movement and starts to turn his head to see what’s coming.
My knuckles crack him square beside his nose.
He’s not out, but neither did he cry out.
I whip my left hand up, striking his right temple with a solid ridge hand.
The guard crumples.
Master Sparks would be proud.
Mother glances back, her eyes widening.
Judy grabs her arm. “Come with us when we jump,” she whispers urgently.
“I can’t. I must stay here. You know that.”
“Please, Mo—”
I cover Judy’s mouth before she can say the word mother. If anyone hears her say that, our cover will be blown wide open.
“Stick to the plan,” I hiss. “You know she has to stay here.”
Mother glares at Judy, who nods, so I release her mouth.
“Shh,” Mother turns to proceed on her way. “Not another word.”
We continue down the hall, up another flight of stairs, down another hall, and up another flight. We pass several intersecting halls, sometimes turning to the right, sometimes to the left, sometimes continuing on in the direction we were already headed. Most of the guards don’t give us a second glance, though at the top of one flight of stairs, two guards stationed there begin to question us, and we end up knocking them both out.
“How much farther?” I dare to whisper.
“We’re almost a third of the way, but he might be up ahead. Shh!” Mother adds, straightening and proceeding forward as though she hasn’t just knocked out several guards.
I don’t ask her who he is. Obviously, she’s not going to use the word father any more than I could let Judy say mother. But his presence nearby makes my blood shiver through my veins.
Maybe we should just jump away now.
But we don’t dare. We’re too deep in the mountain. There’s too much solid granite between us and blue sky, and I don’t know if we have the strength to make it aboveground, let alone all the way to France.
Besides that, Judy has me worried. She’s always longed to meet our biological mother. I probably never appreciated before just how much. Now she’s finally found her and obviously, given her question the hallway earlier, Judy doesn’t want to be separated from her again.
Which means she may not want to jump.
This could get tricky. I mean, I came on this mission to get Judy out of here, and that’s what I fully intend to do. It would be crazy for her to stay—quite nearly suicide. But she doesn’t want to leave our mother.
Even though she knows she needs to go, Judy’s feelings could very well override her common sense. She might choose to stay behind, or hesitate just long enough that she’s captured, and unable to follow.
I can’t let that happen, obviously, which means I don’t dare jump until I’m sure Judy has jumped first.
This complicates everything.
Besides all that, I don’t know how much farther we can make it before somebody raises an alarm. I’ve lost track of our body count. At some point, one of the unconscious guards is going to wake up, or someone’s going to find them sleeping on the job, and once that happens, we’ll all be in trouble.
My instinct is to start running, but of course, we can’t do that. It would only draw even more attention our way.
So though I feel like we’re drowning in danger, I keep my steps even, matching my footfalls with those of our mother.
We pass another unblinking set of guards on our way up another flight of stairs. I don’t know why this underground compound couldn’t have been built with a single tower of stairs going all the way from top to bottom, preferably in an enclosed stairwell with no guards inside.
The interior of the mountain is a labyrinthine maze—surely on purpose. My father doesn’t want his prisoners to be able to escape. No wonder my mother hasn’t found an opportunity to free the dragons—she’d have to lead them all out. They’d never find the way on their own.
Yet another reason why we have to get out of here alive. Because only by doing so will we be able to return someday and free the others.
We reach the top of the next flight of stairs, and my mother heads toward a spot where two halls intersect. She hesitates for a moment like she’s choosing between them.
Laughter echoes distantly. Not happy laughter, but a kind of greedy, evil laughter.
My father?
The sound seems to be coming from down the right hallway.
Mother leads us the other way.
Relief trickles through my veins. We’re far from safe, but at least we’re not headed straight toward the enemy.
Up ahead is another staircase, with armed guards posted on either side. I try to imitate their expressions of stoic boredom. It’s the best I can do to try to fit in.
At first I think we’re going to get past, unaccosted, but at the last second both guards drop their spears simultaneously, blocking our escape route.
They acted in unison, as if according to some signal, but I didn’t hear or see anything.
The three of us freeze.
Before any of us can do anything, someone appears behind us.
I say appears, because he didn’t walk or run or even fly.
“Monica? Are you going somewhere?” his voice is deep.
Mother spins around, a warm smile on her face. “Darling, you’re home!”
“Yes, but you are not in your room. Where were you headed?” His face is firm, unsmiling, maybe on the verge of angry.
This is bad. We need to jump away. We should be gone
by now, but no matter how much I give Judy a look that says let’s go, she’s still standing there, not teleporting away.
Not only do we need to get out of here, but Mother can’t let on that she’s with us. If our father realizes she’s helping us, he’ll punish her. She’s already living in a veritable prison. What more can he do? Freeze her with the others?
“These guards came for me,” Mother explains, obviously as aware of our joint predicament as we are. She’s not endangering us, not really, as long as we jump away before our father acts.
Jump now, Judy.
“I assumed you had sent them,” Mom continues.
“These guards?” Our father looks at us as though noticing us for the first time.
Now, Judy!
“I don’t even recognize these guards. This one appears to be female. I have no female guards.”
Chapter Nineteen
Our cover is blown. We have to jump! I glare the message at my sister intently. My face is practically shouting, though of course, I don’t move my lips.
But instead of jumping, Judy reaches for the spears of the guards who are still standing, weapons crossed, blocking the stairway.
She grabs the spears one in each hand and thrusts them backwards, toward our parents, creating a barrier between us and our parents.
Judy darts up the stairs and I bound alongside her.
“We’ve got to do it now! We can’t wait any longer!” I’m taking stairs two at a time to keep up with Judy.
“I can’t leave her.”
“You don’t have any choice.” The end of the stairwell lies ahead. I can see the dark outline of feet and legs.
Our father. Of course—instead of coming after us, he teleported to the top of the stairs to pounce on us—just like he clearly teleported to our mother, drawn by the connection he has to her, when he came upon us in the first place.
Another reason our mother can’t jump with us. Our father can jump to her.
But I don’t have time to say any of this. Instead I grab Judy by her shoulders and motion with my head toward our father’s feet half a dozen steps above. He could be upon us in one good leap.
