Dragon!: Book Two: Revenge

by LeRoy Clary

  He already had. The position of the sun indicated it was late in the day, and they were still climbing. Spending a night at the top of the pass would be more than dangerous. He already felt light-headed and had been nauseous for all afternoon. A headache was pounding, and Tad complained his head hurt, and he didn’t feel good.

  Gareth said, “Let me contact Blackie.”

  She looked at him as if she didn’t understand his intentions, or if she thought it an odd time to contact his dragon. Gareth ignored her and stumbled ahead as he touched the mind of the dragon. Blackie was behind them, huddled on a cliff where he was protected from the wind.

  “Will flying ahead of us so I can see where we’re going be a problem for you? Is it too cold or too hard to fly in these mountains?”

  Blackie responded by leaping from the ledge and flapping his wings as he flew directly at them. As he passed over a short while later, Gareth watched himself trudging in the snow below through the eyes of Blackie. It was not the first time he’d watched himself from above, and it was no less awkward. On impulse, he gave himself a friendly little wave.

  Blackie followed the trail ahead around the sheer cliff on their right and rounded a bend in the trail. It started to descend. The trail wound around more hills and obstacles ahead, but also dropped lower and lower. Instead of breaking the news to Ann right away and finding out later that the trail then went up another mountain, he allowed Blackie to fly further.

  The path went down the other slope until the snow was scarce. At that time, Gareth ordered the dragon to find a deer for his dinner and a place to sleep for the night while waiting for them to arrive.

  “Ann, good news. Just up ahead is the top of the pass. We’ll reach it long before dark. Moving down the other side should be faster, and easier on us.”

  She nodded, too tired and winded to talk. Tad had overheard and tried to smile. His footsteps were becoming ragged, and he stumbled more than the adults. Gareth hoped the boy could make the summit without help.

  They all reached the summit with daylight left. Tad tripped again, his seven-year-old body exhausted. Gareth tossed Tad over his shoulder like he was carrying a small sack of grain. The boy weighed little and walking down the other side of the mountain used different muscles, ones not already tired and wore out. Before dark, he heard Tad softly snoring even while being carried. Gareth pulled the blanket tighter around him and continued. He walked without observing what lay around. One weary footstep in front of the other.

  He counted his steps for a while to keep his mind awake. When he lost track, he started over. The weight of Tad on his shoulder didn’t exist. The twilight at the end of the day didn’t slow him. One more step. Then another.

  “I think we should stop here,” Ann’s voice sounded as weary as he felt.

  Gareth looked around at the darkness in near awe. Snow still existed under a few trees where the sun couldn’t reach, but otherwise, the ground was clear. He drew in a breath and felt it fill his lungs, unlike the thin, cold air on the summit. He set Tad down and made a complete turn.

  There was no water, shelter, or clear space to make a camp, which was just as well because he wasn’t going to make a camp. A blanket unrolled for Tad to sleep on and another thrown over him was enough for the boy. Gareth made his own bed and pulled the blanket over his head, both for warmth and so he didn’t have to talk.

  He heard his old friend the Brother trying to speak to him in his mind, but didn’t answer. There was nothing that couldn’t wait until morning.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Gareth fell into a deep sleep, shutting out all minds except Tad’s. The hike down the mountain trail all day had tired his body, but it had not nearly affected him as much as the death of Ramos, a boy he hardly knew but felt responsible for. He felt like curling into a ball and skipping the next few days.

  Belcher probed and prodded, waking him twice, trying to find any information or weakness. Gareth had no doubt he wanted to gloat and remind Gareth of his power after killing Ramos. Belcher’s power used without discrimination or restraint was often stronger. But the immaturity of Belcher, who wanted to brag and pose about killing Ramos, told of his own weaknesses. Gareth determined to prevent him from enjoying his victory for long and refused to acknowledge Belcher.

  Rolling over to his side, he pulled the curtain of his mind closer around himself, shutting out Belcher fully, and went back to sleep. When he woke in the morning, both Tad and Ann were sitting on a blanket off to one side, eating and talking softly among themselves. Tad said something and she laughed.

  Tad turned to him and said with a mischievous grin, “We thought you were going to sleep all day.”

  Gareth climbed to his feet wearing a smile he didn’t feel. “It looks like I almost did.”

  “Will we be out of the snow today?” Tad asked, his voice sounding hopeful.

  “You just want to be warm again. Yes, I think we’ll be out of the snow soon.” Looking around, only patches of snow lay in shady places. Sprigs of green appeared in places where the sun struck. If this side of the mountains is anything like the other, they will travel quickly, down the slopes of the steep mountains that descend into flatlands. By mid-day, they should be well down the mountainside and by tomorrow, they should be on level ground.

  They walked the entire day, climbing only a few evergreen covered hills but most of the trip was downhill and easy walking. They saw no signs of people or that anyone had recently used the path they walked. Ann taught Tad songs to march to, and they all tried to keep in step, three left feet striking the ground at the same time. At least, that was the intention.

  Their missteps caused many giggles and a few laughs. Their songs helped passed the time, especially the silly ones with words they made up. Late in the day the vegetation changed to larger cedar and fir trees, and the underbrush increased. Gareth told them he’d like to make an early camp, again.

  The death of Ramos bothered him greatly, and would for a long time. But, there were other subjects needing his attention, most of which involved sitting and using his mind for things other than mourning the tragic death of the boy. Ann found them a perfect place beside a rushing stream and tiny yellow flowers in full bloom. As she had done two nights before, she offered to feed and care for Tad while gathering firewood, thus allowing Gareth to sit on his blanket and communicate with the world.

  He first found Blackie with the familiar touch of his mind. The dragon perched on a barren cliff-face not far away. It had kept pace with them during the day, resting until they got ahead and then catching up again and again. It had gorged itself on two deer and a goat, and it was now ready to sleep away the night, contented and as protective as a watchdog.

  The next mental touch was to the Brother, who had tried to contact him the night before. He tried repeatedly and failed. Then he reached out to listen to the ten thousand minds all thinking their own thoughts at the same time. He hoped to find people in authority who knew accurate information about the Brotherhood, Sisterhood, and King. Anything that might help. A general in the army or a senior Brother or Sister involved in the negotiations would be best, but instead of reaching the expected turmoil of the blended voices he heard nothing of the familiar chatter, and he sat straight up.

  It was not only that he heard nothing of the subjects he was interested in. It was that he heard only a few people when there should be thousands and thousands, an occurrence so profound and unusual it startled him back to reality.

  The near silence in the mental community had him questioning his abilities. But he heard Blackie, and Tad was there just under his conscious thought. Ann was normal, and he briefly touched her mind, drawing a glance from her in his direction. Besides them, there were perhaps ten others. The near silence terrified him. He searched for a reason.

  Had he lost his abilities? Had Belcher managed to do something to him? As he floundered in thought, he realized the mountains were probably blocking his abilities. For a brief instant, he’d imagined Belch
er had killed everyone on this side is the mountains, but he still only had ten other minds he could reach.

  “Tad, can you hear other minds? I mean all of them?”

  “Just us and a few new ones.”

  Fighting to put the information in order he considered. He couldn’t communicate over the mountains with his mind. He could understand how they might block him, or at least he could accept the concept, if not the reason. True, they were high, and it had already taken two days to journey cross over them. He didn’t know why his thoughts didn’t reach over them, but he had never listened to people on this side of the mountains, he realized, so until he knew more, he needed to accept the limitation.

  But he couldn’t let it go. He had heard people on the mainland across the sea when living on Bitters Island. So it had nothing to do with distance, but the blocking of the mountains. Again, he could accept that.

  Yet today, he only sensed the presence of ten people at most. Ten. That’s all. The lack of people he could touch minds with rattled him. Where were they and why so few?

  The feeling was one of error. There had to be more people living on this side of the mountains. His breath started coming in ragged gasps that had nothing to do with the thin air and everything to do with panic. A whole land and only ten people living in it? It didn’t make sense.

  He struggled to find the rest of the people he knew had to be out there, near or far. Another idea came to him. If ten was all there were, and Belcher had crossed the mountains with four boys, and that was half of the population he sensed. If ten was all that lived here, then all children living here must be sensitive—but that couldn’t be right.

  Could Belcher have killed all who lived here? Was he about to do the same to the coastal areas? Gareth found his hands trembling. He looked up to find both Ann and Tad gawking at him.

  Tad came to his side and stood, his eyes sad and expression dour. He said, “Grandpa, can I help?”

  “No, I’m just having trouble speaking to people across the mountains.”

  “I know that. I can hear you trying.” Tad sat without asking. “Let me join my thoughts with yours.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Tad said, as if it was the most natural of things, “Working together our thoughts will go further. I won’t say anything, but I’ll try to make yours stronger when they combine with mine. I think that’s how Belcher knew to come to us. He heard us with the help of the other boys.”

  Gareth had never spoken to Tad about the limits or possibilities of their minds, but the boy was now acting as if he already knew more than Gareth. He said, “Okay, Tad. I’m going to let you try to join with me.”

  Letting down some of the protective layers to allow the boy access gave Gareth a sense of danger, but he was prepared to snap them back into place at the slightest provocation from Belcher. A new sensation touched him gently, and he identified it as Tad, who was stumbling cautiously as a man feeling his way on a dark night.

  Tad centered on one specific portion of Gareth’s mind and concentrated. Gareth felt and recognized the effort and allowed the energy to flow. In his usual manner, he reached out to find the Brother, feeling the additional power provided by Tad. In the process, he again felt the touch of tens of thousands of minds across the mountains.

  *There you are. I was wondering when you would reach out to me.*

  The mental voice was the familiar one of the man who had been his teacher for so many years in Dun Mare. Gareth responded, “We have traveled to the far side of the mountains, and our mind-speak is weak.”

  *Odd that you should say that. It is stronger now than I have heard in many years.*

  Gareth didn’t wish to explain Tad and his abilities. Instead, he chose to change the subject. “Do you have any news of the Brotherhood, Sisterhood, and King?”

  *I do. All have agreed to band with you against this invader you call Belcher.*

  Gareth was relieved, although it was the answer he expected. He said, “Listen to me in confidence for this. I sense only ten voices on this side of the mountains.”

  There was a pause, a hesitation. And puzzlement. *One would expect far more than ten sensitives if, as you say, several crossed to our side with Belcher.*

  “No, you misunderstand. I only hear ten people in total.”

  *Impossible. Not to correct you, but that cannot be right.*

  The reaction was almost as strong as Gareth felt. He said, “I agree. Before we do anything else, I must investigate.”

  *Should I notify any of the others of this discovery?*

  Quickly Gareth decided. He didn’t wish Belcher knowing any more than necessary, and the more that knew what Gareth was doing, the more chance Belcher would channel into a mind and steal the information. “No. Let me find what I can and then you can spread the word of this. I must leave you now.”

  The connection between minds broke and Gareth looked to Tad in wonderment. “How did you know to do that?”

  “I was just helping.”

  “But, how did you know we could combine our powers?”

  Tad appeared confused and acted as if he may have done something wrong. He said defensively, “It was what you needed. Belcher does it all the time.”

  The response stilled Gareth. “How do you know that?”

  “I hear two voices when he’s trying to break into your mind. One is his, the other is a boy who is traveling with him. Like a piggy-back ride.”

  Gareth didn’t answer as he considered what else Tad might know, or know how to do. They needed time to spend together, exploring and learning. Tad’s abilities might even exceed Gareth’s—or perhaps the boy was simply free to use them in more ways, unlike Gareth’s youth. That was the most obvious answer, but the raw power Tad had demonstrated couldn’t be denied.

  “Help me send a message to your mother that all is well.”

  Tad nodded eagerly and joined minds again. This time, Gareth allowed the boy to take the lead and he tried to support Tad’s attempts in the same way. It took a few tries, but finally, Tad found her and assured her they were well. He asked her to tell the whole family they were well, then his mother shared the news of them reaching the farm in Vespa and the trials of settling in.

  Belcher’s mind came to them with the sting of a sneer and dripping self-satisfaction. *Have you managed to cross the mountains to my homeland yet?*

  The mental touch was unexpected. Gareth closed down the mental link to Tad’s mother, but not before the laughter erupted. It went on and on, diminishing as Gareth pulled the umbrella of protection over the three of them, shutting out all mental communication from the outside.

  Ann said, “That was him again, wasn’t it?”

  “You heard?”

  “I heard evil and laughter that was taunting and vicious instead of humorous.”

  “It was him.” Gareth said, “Did just the three of us hear it?”

  She shook her head.

  “Everyone?”

  “Even those without powers heard him, Gareth, even if they don’t know what it was, they had a horrible feeling inside. A chill just went up the backs of every person you’ve ever met, seen, or dreamed of.” The tone of Ann’s voice was so flat she might have been drugged with the medicine she’d given to Ramos. Her eyes watched his, probably searching for information.

  “Ann, there are only ten people here.” Her puzzled expressions told him all he needed to know before continuing, “Ten people besides us on this side of the mountains, yet at least eight boys with my abilities traveled to our home and killed my father. How can that be?”

  “Maybe you cannot sense the people here.”

  That made some sort of sense and sounded far more reasonable than any ideas he’d had. If the people were different, he could only sense those who had crossed the mountains before him, and ten was a reasonable number in that case. He drew in a relieved breath. The information should have been shared with her earlier and saved him the worry.

  But it also brought forth o
ther questions. Why couldn’t he hear them? If Belcher and his band of youths could communicate with others, why couldn’t he? The answer might be as simple as asking Tad. Perhaps Tad could hear them.

  Too quickly, he turned and said too sharply, “Tad, can you hear others in your mind?”

  “Yes.”

  Gareth let the breath out. But the next thought still him. Tad answered only what was asked, as all young children. “How many other voices do you hear?”

  “Not many.” He held up all ten of his fingers, “Maybe this many.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Tad had held up ten fingers, one for each mental voice he heard. Gareth was back the beginning. Only ten people in total, unless Ann’s guess about not being able to communicate with them was correct. Neither of the two choices struck him as desirable.

  Ann still faced him, her posture telling him she waited for a response. He said, “We have to go see for ourselves.”

  “We may not like it.”

  “Meaning?” Gareth demanded.

  She shrugged, “Meaning that right now there only appears to be two answers, and you’re not going to like either of them. If there is a third, it may be worse.”

  “What do we do?”

  “Prepare for the worst and hope for the best.” Ann shrugged and stood as if the issue was not a priority for her. She shook out her hair and began unrolling blankets and spreading supplies on them. A remarkably large pile of firewood had been gathered while he had been thinking and speaking. A few droplets of rain fell, and the heavy clouds promised more. A hot fire would be needed to warm and dry them. Of course, as the temperature fell the rain might turn to snow.

  Maybe she didn’t understand the problem. Or, more likely, she did understand and was more pragmatic in her thinking process. She knew the issues, and possible options, including accepting that there may be an option neither of them had yet considered.

  Instead of helping, Gareth allowed his mind to open slightly and found a tendril of inquiry waiting for him. At the slightest touch, the identity made itself known. It was Belcher—waiting. Gareth searched for the other voice, the piggy-backed one, as Tad described it. He couldn’t identify it.