by LeRoy Clary
Ann’s hand found his shoulder in the darkness. She had awakened and now stood behind him without him being aware. “You’re not alone, you know.”
He said, “I feel I am.”
“No, that’s a mistake. Maybe the same mistake your father made? You have the Sisterhood and Brotherhood to draw on, as well as the King supporting you. That is your advantage. Use us.”
There was the ring of truth and hope in her words. While the King had not offered his support, Gareth felt certain that after meeting with the Brotherhood, he would. That is, if the Brother Gareth spoke to, managed to convince the Brotherhood to help him. And while Ann demanded the Sisterhood fall into ranks behind Gareth, that demand had not even been presented, let alone accepted.
“After everyone is aware of the danger maybe we can do that. But I do not want that evil mind to gain a foothold on our kingdom.”
“Two points. First, it already has a foothold. Second, you cannot continue referring to it like that ‘evil mind’.”
“Giving it a name personalizes it. I want to keep this at a distance because I have no idea of how far I may be forced to go when I defeat it.”
Ann glanced at the sleeping boy near her feet. “Ask him.”
She had an idea. Gareth had been so intent on squelching all thought emanations he hadn’t considered the idea that he could talk to the boy. Learn from him.
Gareth reached out and seized the mind of the boy in a grasp equivalent to his hands and fingers encircling the thin neck. The small body reacted like it had touched an electric eel, going stiff and shaking.
Gareth used his mind to demand, “What is your name?”
*Ramos.*
The answer had come too quickly. Fear motivated it. Gareth found the method of his questioning and response repulsive. He relaxed as much as possible and asked, “What is the name of the one who tells you what to do?”
*Belcher, but he wants us to call him Master.*
The answer again came quickly, with no trace of trying to hold back. It actually felt like Ramos was trying to respond fast to avoid a jolt of pain. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
*That’s what he says, too. Then he does it anyhow. Especially if he does not like the answer . . . Even if it’s true.*
“Why do you stay with him?”
*He kills all who do not do what he wants, and he hunts down any that leave him.*
The revulsion Gareth felt was almost physical. He swallowed down the bile rising and ignored the sour taste in his mouth. He swallowed again, trying to prevent puking. There seemed to be no option but to escape from the mind of the boy called Belcher. The fear and self-loathing were palatable.
Gareth still cloaked him in a heavy, dark impression of a damp summer night.
*Can I try speaking with him?* The voice was Tad.
Tad had been listening to it all. Trying to keep a boy Tad’s age from listening in on a private conversation was almost impossible, and he’d made no effort to block Tad from the conversation. He glanced at Ann for her input and opinion. She looked back with a blank face. She heard none of what Ramos or Tad said, let alone what he did.
Ramos was wide awake, his eyes darting from one to the other. Tad was also awake, but relaxed and curious. Gareth said, using his voice, “Tomorrow maybe. I’ll think about it tonight.”
*We’re close to the same age. Maybe he will talk to me.*
“I’ll think about it, I said.”
Tad didn’t insist, but Ann was looking at them oddly. First one, then the other. Gareth said, “We have a few answers, I guess. The one in charge is called Belcher, or Master. This one is Ramos. Tad wants to try speaking to Ramos, but I have to think about it. It might be a good idea. It might not.”
Ann said, “Thank you for filling me in, but I have to say that you sure know how to say as little as possible to carry your end of a conversation.”
Gareth flashed a smile and then nodded at Ramos. “Does he need more of your herbs to sleep through the night?”
“A little more won’t hurt, and you can get a good night’s sleep since you don’t have to watch over him then.” She stood and went to the stream for water to mix with it.
The stream rustled and hissed as water broke over and around rocks. Frogs croaked, and insects buzzed. Instead of thinking of the confusing morass of conflicting thoughts that swirled around in his mind, he settled with his back against a fir tree, and he listened. It had been far too long since he had enjoyed a night in the cool mountain air.
His years growing into adulthood at Dun Mare were in mountains similar to these. While living on Bitters Island, as great a place as it was, he missed the sounds and scents he listened to and heard. A soft breeze rustled the tops of the trees. He might talk to Sara about where they would eventually settle.
His mind went out to Blackie. The dragon was asleep, wings folded and as always it slept lightly, almost with one eye open. While dragons can defeat any other animal in combat, it was the small ones that gave them troubles. Rats in particular. They tended to gather near the feet and bite. The blood attracted others. The best solution was to surround itself with an impenetrable layer of black dragon slime, but it couldn’t do that every time it slept. However, when females roost they did exactly that.
Blackie was waiting for him, anxious to spend time together. The mind of the dragon responded to basic needs like food and hunting. But somehow companionship was also on the list. Gareth didn’t know if other dragons felt the same needs, but suspected they did.
The dragon gave off a wave of affection as well as a mild scolding. It wanted to know why there had been so little contact. Gareth recognized the feelings. He too missed the companionship. There were times when Blackie flew in circles just for the joy of it, like puppies chasing their tails. Since breaking his way out of the egg, he and Blackie hadn’t missed many days together.
Ann had settled by the fire and watched the sparks drifting into the air and extinguishing with little winks of darkness. The ground and trees were damp so there was no danger of fire. She caught his eye. “He’s expecting you, you know.”
“The Master?” Gareth asked, knowing that she already knew the answer. “Belcher?”
“He’s baiting a trap, and you’re walking right into it. He wants you angry at him, and unreasonable. I think he suspects you’re close, and he will try to bait it like a little bully. The bully pushed the smaller boy into the mud puddle to get him mad enough to fight, then the bully tells the adults that the other boy swung first. He was only defending himself.”
Gareth started to deny that could happen. He was no little boy to be pushed. Or was he? Gareth had one glaring weakness. His family. He said, “Belcher will go after my family so he can make me angry enough to go after him.”
“No, I don’t think he has the organization to know where they are. Not yet. But he may tell you he has done something terrible to them. You cannot believe him.”
“Blackie could go protect them.”
“Like Cinder protected his partner?”
The fire had died down while Gareth considered all aspects of the problem and found he agreed with Ann. The second problem was Cinder, or more correctly, Blackie. If Blackie were safe, the entire situation would be different. The key to that was finding out how the other black dragon had been attacked.
Belcher may have found a way to channel several minds together into one stronger than any single one. That was the problem Gareth needed to solve. How were the various minds of the boys interacting? Who killed Cinder? He needed to get Ramos talking, and Tad might be the answer get that done.
Gareth said, “Get some sleep.”
“Promise me you will not go rushing in no matter what Belcher tells you.”
“Ann, you’ve given me the best advice you could have. I think he is going to lie to me and attempt to make me so angry I’ll lose my temper and make mistakes. He’s been dealing with children and boys. He knows how to threaten them and get results. I am going to expect him to
lie, and I’ll take advantage of it.”
“How will you do that?”
“I don’t know until I’ve heard the threats. What I’m thinking is that I’ll act angry and let slip an idea he thinks he can take advantage of.”
“You’ll tell him you’re going to charge in from the north when you plan to sneak in from the south. That sort of thing.”
“Yes. I will have to think about it, but there should be a way to exploit his inexperience.”
“You need to kill him when you get the chance. It may be your only chance.”
“If there’s another way I’ll choose that.”
“No!” Ann stood and pointed her finger at him. “No, you cannot think like that. We don’t know why this evil person is doing what he is, but what we do know is that he killed your father. He is directing others to kill you. You cannot expect that if you let him live he will respect you, and everyone will live happily. He will turn on you and attack at the first opportunity.”
“I’m not a killer.”
“Then become one. Gareth, I will tell you the truth, and you can look into my mind to be sure of my words. If I have a chance to kill this person, I will do it without hesitation. Now, tomorrow, or in the future. I will remove this source of evil before others are hurt. If you cannot do this, place me in a position where I can.”
He had never heard her speak so fiercely, and it took him back. Her demands were so intense he had no need to touch her mind to verify the truth even if he wished. Without agreeing to anything, Gareth nodded and closed his eyes. When he awoke later, the fire had died down to only a few bright orange spots in a bed of dead coals.
The night was cool but not cold. He glanced at the sleeping form of Ann. She was in arms-reach of Tad, who curled beside her. The blanket that had been around Ramos lay flat on the ground.
Gareth sat up and looked around. Ramos was gone.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Gareth held himself back from shouting for the others to wake. Instead, he quietly stood and went to the blanket. It was cold. The boy had been gone for a while. But he had left bare footprints in the soft sand of the sandbar. Even in the moonlight the prints were lined up telling the way he’d gone.
Gareth bent and examined them closer. They were damp inside while the layer of sand on top was dry. He had not left long ago. Perhaps his stealthy movements had been what woke Gareth.
Reaching out with his mind for Ramos was possible, but this might alert Belcher. Gareth chose to follow the footprints. From the spacing of the footprints, he decided Ramos was not running or even hurrying. He walked with small, careful steps as if half asleep. If he was running away, he should be running, fearful of being captured again.
The footprints took him to the edge of the forest. Instead of choosing a path a few steps away that went in the same direction, Ramos had walked directly into the tangled underbrush without regard to the scratches of sticks and briars. Gareth took the path, darting to the side now and then to find Ramos still walked in a direct line unless prevented by a tree or other obstacle.
Even in the dim light the path of the boy was easy to follow. Running down the path again, Gareth heard the snap of a dry branch ahead. He turned to the sound and found Ramos walking slowly, his head held pointed directly ahead, set in the direction he walked even though Gareth made far too much noise as he approached to be missed. Anyone awake would have heard the noise.
Instead of calling out or touching Ramos, he followed. The blood seeping from the many scratches and scrapes on his lower legs made them look black in the moonlight. Gareth moved almost even with the boy, being careful to stay out of peripheral vision. Still, he could see the set expression on Ramos’ face, the glazed eyes, and the uncaring way he walked. A low hanging branch scraped across his face adding another scratch, but he didn’t so much as attempt to avoid it.
The boy was under the control of another mind, one uncaring that allowed the continued scratches and scrapes. But he continued walking at his snail’s pace. The trees thinned and then stopped. Ahead spread a wide valley carved out of the mountain.
The side of the valley was steep, too steep to navigate in the dark, and in the quiet of the night, Gareth heard the roar of rushing water below. A small river raged at the bottom of the canyon wall. Yet Ramos walked directly ahead. A few more steps and he would probably fall to his death on the slope, and if he survived that he would drown in the river.
Gareth reached out and grabbed the boy by his shoulders. Ramos tries to shake him off. The easiest way to keep him safe was to remove the ability to walk. Gareth stepped in front of Ramos and bent over, shoving his shoulder into the stomach of the boy. Ramos leaned forward as Gareth took two quick steps ahead and stood, the boy balanced safely on his shoulder, Gareth’s arm holding him firm.
After only a few steps in the direction of the camp, Ramos erupted into a violent madman, kicking, hitting, pounding, flailing wildly and screaming so loudly the entire forest awakened. His flailing elbow struck above Gareth’s ear. A toe kicked his stomach, and the twisting and turning made it impossible to hold onto the boy.
Setting him down allowed him to break free and run at the canyon. Gareth chased him and managed to grab him at the edge and pull him back to safety. Gareth slipped out of his shirt and used the arms to tie the kicking feet together while sitting on the boy’s thighs and accepting the fists pummeling his bare back. Gareth stripped the shirt off Ramos and used it to tie his hands. Ramos still fought so hard he was in danger of hurting himself. Gareth sat on his chest and held the boy’s head in his hands.
*You’ve ruined him.*
The raging thought burst into Gareth’s head like fireworks. It invaded Gareth like a savage slap in his face. Instantly he locked down all but the smallest portion of his mind and steeled himself to lock that down, too if it became necessary. Carefully, he responded, “I have done nothing. He’s just a boy.”
*He’s mine! Now he’s no good to me, and I’ll kill you for that.*
Another threat to kill him. Gareth wanted to remind Belcher he could only kill him once, but before making him angrier and more determined, Gareth drew a mental breath, calmed himself, and said, “Ramos is one of yours. I have done nothing to hurt him.”
“Don’t lie to me. I’ve looked into his mind. He likes you.*
“So for that reason, you plan to kill him? Because he likes me?”
“You can’t stop me.”
Gareth cut the mental thread as it increased to the intensity of a tropical storm over Bitters Island. The conversation with Belcher was irrational. He was too furious to speak with. In the space of a few seconds, the mind of the other had gone from angry to crazy. There is no way to deal with a mind like that.
Gareth scooped Ramos into his arms and headed for the campsite. He rejected repeated attempts by Belcher to tear apart his defenses and invade Gareth’s mind. With each failure, the rage increased and the twisting and fighting of Ramos increased.
Ramos suddenly stopped his twisting and fighting. He lay so still in Gareth’s arms that Gareth paused and checked to make sure the boy was all right. The mental assault pounded against the locks on his mind again, like someone demanding to be allowed past a sturdy oak door. The image didn’t help Gareth as he recalled at childhood story of an oak door to a castle that had been burned instead of throw open.
There’s always a way to defeat an enemy.
Stumbling down the bank to the sandbar, he found Ann and Tad with their arms wrapped around each other. Tears streaked their faces.
Gareth said, “You can hear him?”
“Everyone can hear him,” Ann said. “Even those who are not sensitive.”
Gareth placed Ramos on his blanket. Ann was right. The way Belcher was broadcasting his thoughts all could hear him. Many would simply feel uncomfortable because their minds were not tuned to understand. They would believe they had a nightmare. Others had more abilities to hear, especially women. They would be pained. Sensitives, no matter how
limited their abilities, heard every tortured wail and threat.
Ann said, “You cannot still be thinking of going up there.”
The idea of not going to the valley hadn’t really entered his mind, even after her warning earlier. Now, at her words, he found himself scared for the first time. One slip and he’d be dead. If the boy who wanted to be called the Master seized a single advantage, the battle and war were both lost. Just one mistake.
Yet, if he didn’t go there, who would? Who else could? Gareth said, “I was going to rush up there and take revenge on the person who killed my father. That has been my plan all along.”
“It’s a stupid plan, Gareth!”
“I can’t sit aside and do nothing.”
Ann brushed Tad’s hair off his forehead with the palm of her hand before speaking again, soft and controlled. “I have but one question for you to ask yourself. What does that insane mind waiting in the valley want you to do?”
Words were on Gareth’s lips before he fully understood her question. What did Belcher want him to do? Ever since he had appeared, he had wanted to face and kill Gareth. From the first instant, their minds touched. Every event had drawn him closer to the valley and Belcher. Worse, Gareth was doing exactly what Belcher wanted. At every turn, he had chosen to do what the other wanted.
Hanging his head, Gareth admitted, “You’re right.”
“About what?” Ann asked.
“He’s manipulated me from the beginning. Like a fool, I’ve allowed it.”
“You’re no fool.”
“I have been acting like one.” Gareth glanced at Ramos. “Do you think it was an accident we captured him so easily? No, he was bait. Bait intended to draw us, or me, to my end.”
“This boy they call Master is really that intelligent?”
“Yes. Until now he has called every emotion, decided the next move, and defeated my father without a single stumble. I’ve fallen into his every trap.”
