“You don’t sing well,” the man said. “I don’t like it when you sing.” Another set of strikes. Boshk moaned in pain with each blow. “I want you to know,” Thwack! “That my associates,” Thwack! “Back at the capital,” Thwack! “Have informed me that they have your daughter. They have promised that as long as she does what they ask her to do, they, and I, will not kill her or her future family. Her current family however,” Thwack! “Was left out of the deal, as well as her own safety.” Boshk was silent but breathed heavily. “If you don’t tell me where another keep is, she is going to hurt. I don’t want that to happen. The choice is yours. I believe that you still know were other keeps are.” Boshk didn’t say anything. The man struck him again. Boshk groaned. “I’ll come back and talk to you tomorrow. Nice chat.”
The man slid into Maerek’s cage, holding the blood-stained metal rod in his right hand. Maerek stood but kept his arms down. The man swung the rod across Maerek’s face. Maerek stumbled to the side, another blow to the ribs, and then the back. Maerek was on the ground. The man continued to strike, beating him like a rug. His muscles tensed with each strike. Maerek could feel the Instinct growing inside. He rolled back toward the wall. The man followed, striking his back, legs, arms, and stomach.
As the man beat him, the pain dulled, he could hear the metal striking his muscles and rattling his bones. His vision reddened and he lifted himself to one knee. The man took the chance and swung at the leg. Maerek roared and stood. His pupils were wide. He rushed at the man with arms outstretched.
The man backpedaled until the chain went taught and Maerek pulled against it, reaching for the man’s throat.
“Oh no, please, don’t get up on my account,” the man said. Maerek stayed standing, groaning, reaching, blood pulsing, rushing and raging through him, bulging at his neck.
“When I escape,” Maerek growled. “You are the first to die.” The man was silent and looked down at his metal rod, frowned, and then struck Maerek on the other side of his face. Maerek fell, the instantaneous strength leaving as quickly as it came. The bruises were beginning to swell. Blood and spit filled his mouth. He spat at the man, splattering his pale skin and the faded black robe.
“Humph,” the man said as he wiped his face. “Perhaps tomorrow we will have a different discussion.” He weaved through the barbed spikes. His robe snagged on the barbed bars and he tore it free. “Guards, bring down the Conduit,” he said.
The Conduit was an older teenager, probably seventeen. She was dressed in a white tunic with a matching set of trousers, each having a purple stripe down the sides. Her cheek bones were too defined in her face. Fabric from the uniform hung loosely from her arms and shoulders, hiding any muscular definition. Behind her, a hunter guided a cockatrice by a leather leash connected to a barbed choke-chain collar. The cockatrice huffed at the Conduit. Strands of the Conduit’s wispy blonde hair flew into her lips and eyes. Cautiously, slowly, and with a slight tremble, she raised her hands and tucked her hair behind her ears. They stopped in front of Maerek’s cell. Without moving her head, the Conduit glanced at Maerek briefly and then whipped her blank gaze down, staring at the base of the barbed cage.
The look, the slight glance of the eyes, the nervous twitch to a blank stare ahead of her, the emotionless, hollow shell of an expression, matched only by her gauntness, told Maerek the Conduit was being held against her will. She was fearful to move, fearful to look, afraid of setting off the guards.
“Open,” the hunter said. The Conduit breathed and stretched her hand forward. The bottom half of the cage began to pry upward in slow, forceful wine. Cankers of rust snapped and cracked as metal bent inward on itself. The barbed metal spikes screeched as they brushed by each other, closing in like a bear trap. When the metal stopped bending, the hunter led the cockatrice into the cell.
“Stun,” the hunter commanded. Maerek stood still as the cockatrice screeched. His body went limp as the creature let out is paralyzing cry. Maerek’s vision darkened and pain shot through his body as the fresh injuries throbbed, but he could not cry out, or moan, or clutch his wounds. The screeching continued for a few more seconds.
“Recall,” the hunter yelled. The cockatrice stopped screeching, clucked a couple times and sat on its haunches. “Be quick about it,” the hunter said to the Conduit.
Maerek’s vision returned slowly. He tried to focus on his breathing to distract himself from the slicing, ripping sensation in his leg. He tried to sing memories in his mind but the pain was too much. With each breath, the pain worsened and spread through his chest and back. Each heartbeat brought a pulse of stabbing pain, brining keen awareness of every injury. The Conduit stood over him and looked at each cut, bruise, and welt.
After the exam, she placed her hands just above his head. Her fingers were long and thin. A soft green light emanated from her palms, and a warm, cleansing sensation percolated from her hands, into his skin, and then deeper into his muscles and bones. The cuts on his cheek sealed up and his nose straightened with a painless pop. The Conduit looked at Maerek’s face, gently touching his cheeks and neck, overly examining the ears, temples, nose, jaw, chin and skull, but never looking Maerek in the eyes.
She repeated the process for every injured portion of his body, healing it with the green light, and then examining the area for further wounds. Section by section, limb by limb, the bruises and throbbing pain disappeared. He breathed effortlessly as she moved her hands over his ribcage. The sharp pain in his left knee evaporated. At the end, Maerek felt as he had before the beating.
Lastly, the girl closed his eyes with her fingers. The Conduit, the cockatrices and the hunter left the cage, the sharp claws and metal toed boots clicking along the floor.
“Close,” the hunter ordered.
The metal squealed and wined again as the barbed spikes pulled from one another until it was again a wall of metal and poison. Maerek still couldn’t move. Next, he heard Boshk’s cage open, heard the shriek of the cockatrice, and assumed that the Conduit girl was performing the same healing magic that was conducted on him.
The warm healing feeling lingered in Maerek for a couple more hours. He breathed normally and focused on each bone in his body. It was not an illusion; he was healed.
“Why?” Maerek thought about the tenor voiced man while he lay on the ground.
The paralysis wore off midway through the next day. Slowly, Maerek stretched and stood, careful not to expend whatever strength he had. Once upright, he sniffed the air and listened to his surroundings. His senses weren’t as keen as it was if he were in his true form, but as far as he could tell, he and Boshk were the only ones in the area. He tugged at the chains, shook them, banged his cuffs against the floor, but the metal didn’t give. Maerek held his hands in front of him and looked at the cuffs closely. They weren’t even scratched? He grunted, and then lifted the metal links. The chain looked like normal metal. Maerek examined each portion of the chain, link by link, starting with his cuffs and worked his way toward the wall.
“I have been here for twenty-three years,” Boshk said. “I have seen dozens of our kind come here and I have heard their cries and their songs. At first, the hunters would only go out once, maybe twice a year, but now the hunts are at least once a month.”
“And the man beats you until you talk,” Maerek accused softly. He took a breath, calming himself. There wasn’t much else he could do. The Instinct was becoming harder to control.
“No. My mouth has been silent the entire time. The other dragons betrayed their family.”
“No! Why? Who would do that?” Maerek growled.
“The hunters know about the Instinct,” Boshk said. Maerek huffed and then shook his head.
“The venom the cockatrices use, what exactly is it?”
“That I don’t know. I assume it is a type of poison specifically formulated to cause a physical, but non-lethal, stress on our bodies. That stress taps our physical reserves, and draws out the Instinct just enough to where we can remain co
herent, but not… what is the word?”
“I get the idea,” Maerek replied. “And who is the man with the big stick?”
“His name is Simmons. He is a politician from the capital, Noiknaer. He asks every dragon where another keep is. Of course, the dragon won’t talk at first. He roughs them up a bit with that metal rod of his, withholds food and water, and eventually, the Instinct kicks in and he is able to trick the information out of them. Then the dragon is killed, his or her blood drained, another dragon is captured, and the process starts all over again.”
Maerek sat down on the floor, held the chain in his hands and stared past the barbed spikes and steel bars. There were other keeps that his cousins married from, and he was aware of them, but many were already attacked. Moving Mountain didn’t tell him where the family had gone, and again, Maerek felt a deep respect for Vaalkún’s judgement and wisdom.
“All of them, in-laws and extended family, have already been attacked,” Maerek said. “Part of my family escaped, but I wasn’t told where. Perhaps it was a good thing that I didn’t socialize much.”
“Then you and your lineage are very wise.”
“He must have pieced it together on his own.” Maerek was silent for a while and thought back to what Simmons told Boshk about his daughter. He knew Boshk was thinking of her. “I’m sorry about your daughter,” was all he could think of. Boshk was silent.
“Thanks,” He paused. “What is your name?”
“I’m Maerek, of Vaalkún’s line.”
“Maerek, I am sorry for your loss. Perhaps in time you will be able to sing your song to me.”
“Perhaps,” Maerek said. He stared down at the chains, and then back up at the spiked bars. Then he looked at his cuffs, back at the wall, and then the chains again. It was plain steel. Why was the chain so resilient?
Maerek took a deep breath and breathed out a grey, ashen colored smoke. Muscles grew, his arms and legs extended, a tail began to form, and scales appeared on his arms and chest. Hardened flesh and scale pressed against the collar and cuffs, but the steel would not give. His hands went numb and everything began to fade black as the collar choked his air supply and blood flow. Quickly, he changed back into his human form.
“There is something odd about these shackles,” Boshk said, shaking his own chains. “I’ve tried more than once to shift and do the same thing you did.”
“I should’ve known that,” Maerek growled at himself.
“Being in chains this long has its advantages, and I suppose I didn’t discover it until you came along. There is a circle, etched on the inside of each of my cuffs, collar, and the lock that attaches the chain to the wall. Is it the same for you?”
Maerek closed his eyes and turned his wrists slightly, trying to feel for the etched circle against his wrist. He opened his eyes when he found it. The etched circle was as big as his pinkie finger nail, but the details of the circle were unclear. He ran over to the wall and looked over the lock, searching each surface and found it on the bottom.
“Yes, there is something, some form of a circle with lines running in and through it. What does it mean?” Maerek inferred that the circle was what gave the chains and cuffs their resiliency but wondered if Boshk knew why.
“I will tell you, but… but I need something in return,” Boshk said, “on the word of your family.”
“You want me to save your daughter,” Maerek said flatly.
“Yes.” Neither Maerek nor Boshk spoke for a while. Asking for a favor in return of a favor was human. It was below the honor of dragons. If a family member or fellow dragon was in need, you helped, with no thought of reward or debt. No one owed anyone favors. Deeds were done, thanks were shared, and that was the end of it. When Maerek was a drake, he traded a tender chunk of pork to one of his cousins for a tougher portion. The next month, when he got a tougher portion, he talked to his cousin to trade on grounds that he traded the month prior. Vaalkún reprimanded him and lectured him on the honor of dragons and that the dragon race was above such human tendencies.
“I know it is not our way to barter over serious things-”
“It’s not our way to barter, period!” Maerek chided.
“And you want to search for your own family-”
“That is exactly what I need to do!” Maerek interrupted again.
“Have you thought through it? Or has the Instinct taken you so soon?” Maerek was silent and lowered his head. The Instinct had driven his outbursts. “You don’t know where they are, and what’s to say you wouldn’t be followed, and then killed if you didn’t lead the hunters to them?”
“I’d make sure I wasn’t followed,” Maerek said grimly. “I know how I was captured. I can make sure that doesn’t happen again. I can warn my family, find others, and bring the fight here. The hunting, the killing, all of it will end. My family and the line of Vaalkún will make sure of that.”
“But why not end it here? Now! We could do it,” Boshk said.
“Has the Instinct taken you as well,” Maerek said softly. This time it was Boshk’s turn for silence. Maerek looked past the bars, he concentrated on what was outside his cells. There were other cages, but they were empty. The hallway was wide enough for a Maerek to turn and move comfortably if he were in his true form, but not enough for two. “Whatever this is, it’s bigger than us, bigger than this prison.”
“You’re right.” Boshk replied. “The exit is to our left and up a tunnel,” Boshk said. “It’s where they drag our kind in. You could escape that way and then once you’re out, fly to Noiknaer.”
“Why do you say that I could escape? Why haven’t you left already to save your daughter? This place is like a stone oven. You could lure others down here, and then blast them. Then go to the surface and pick off any survivors. From there you could go to Noiknaer and rescue your daughter…but you’ve already thought of that, so why are you still here?”
“I’ve had more time to think through this over and over, and each time I play it out in my mind, I end up dead. The cockatrices and hunters would track me down. I might be fast enough to fly and have the endurance to make it all the way to Noiknaer, but the hunters would know I would go to save my daughter. They might, and probably do, have a group and a plan to pit the safety of my daughter against my own submission or death. They might even kill me there. I may be free for a time, but my daughter never would. Someone would have to make sure that word of my escape never left this cave. And there are worse things happening here than bloodletting and rendering.” Boshk took a deep audible breath and the sighed. “The blood is being transported into Noiknaer, though I am not sure why. What I can assume… what I can assume is that a group of people are drinking it.” Maerek gagged. “But there’s more. They have done something to it, tainted it, given it some mystical property that I don’t understand. Simmons, the man who beats us, and most of the hunters under his command were given the blood to drink and gained a healing ability because of it. Only total annihilation will kill them.”
“There was another hunter, Yacobsen was his name,” Maerek said. “He was wounded, then regenerated. I hacked at him with a hatchet till he was unrecognizable.”
“Yes, and that’s what it would take for most, if not all of the people here. I need to bite them in half to kill them I think. I heard some of the hunters talking about practicing their swordsman ship with each other after the drink and then seeing how many wounds they could inflict on each other before they fainted from blood loss. Some talked of sheered limbs reattached and working as new, swords were run straight through, and dozens of gashes, all healed in seconds. Worse yet, I’ve also heard the hunters are looking for more recruits in a small lumber town called Ruiska. By the time you get to your family, if you can find them, this group will be a large band of nearly unstoppable hunters or military men. They might even extend their quarry to other Creatures of the Faye.
“As I said before, I have seen many dragons come and go. Simmons beats me to get information from the others a
nd ends up killing them. Perhaps Mearto has been informed of my capture and her obedience to her captors means I am kept alive. When I was first taken prisoner, I strategized how I could escape and find my daughter once I found the secrets to these chains. The only solution was to have another to stay behind as a sacrifice or have someone else save my daughter while I stayed behind. I can’t ask you to die for me. There is no other way.”
Maerek didn’t say anything for a while. He thought about the tainted dragons’ blood, of Yacobsen and the effort it took to kill him. He thought of Mearto, and the memories he’d been given by song. They were now a part of him and he understood, as if he was Boshk, how much she meant to him. But lastly, Maerek’s freedom would mean the death of Boshk. He had been taught to sacrifice without thought of reward, and to accept service without thought of returning the favor. Boshk would sacrifice his life for the freedom of Maerek. Maerek was expected to sacrifice finding his family to save Mearto.
He thought back on how Vaalkún and the cousins who sacrificed their lives for the safety of the next generation. Was that any different than now? Boshk was sacrificing his own life in hopes that his daughter and Maerek would mate, to continue his bloodline. Maerek’s only chance at freedom was to promise that he would find and save Boshk’s daughter and put aside his desire to find his family.
“Looks like I don’t have much of a choice,” Maerek said softly.
“There is always a choice,” Boshk said. “I am asking much of you, in a very human way.”
“I need to add one more condition,” Maerek paused. “The young female healer, she is kept here against her will, in poor conditions. She must be freed, and when I escape, she and I will find and save your daughter.”
“Perhaps that is how she is meant to appear to you, hmm?”
A Dragon's Betrayal Page 5
