by Bryan Davis
“Very well. I will grant your immunity and spare the lives of three slaves of your choice. The other two will join the overseer in a pile of ashes.”
Adrian raised a finger. “Since you have already executed one child, we should be negotiating over four children. You should be setting one free without question.”
“Different crime, different punishment. Since these are cattle vermin, I am free to do as I please. You will have to find another offering to gain the other two.”
Adrian kept his stare on the dragon, hoping to display confidence, though he was running out of leverage. Still, one item remained. “Then I take back my request for immunity and ask that I be allowed to retain Arxad as my counsel and be given a trial, and you will let all five children live.”
“Hmmm.” Nancor’s head swayed again as if rocking like a pendulum. “That is a desirable token, but only if you will not contest the fact that you have trespassed the camp walls.”
“I will not contest it. The number of witnesses is overwhelming.”
“As if the vermin could be reliable witnesses.” Nancor looked at Erin, now standing over Thad’s naked corpse, holding his trousers in her grip. “Untie the others,” he growled.
While Erin worked on the knots, Nancor shuffled closer to Adrian. “Now, intruder, you will present the assassin to me. If you do not, the bargain is broken, and your life is forfeit, as are the lives of the ones you have purchased.”
Adrian spread out his arms. “I am he.”
“The assassin?”
He nodded. “The same.”
“Then show me the weapon you used.”
“That was not part of the bargain.” Adrian crossed his arms over his chest, trying to keep a confident stance in spite of the situation.
A deep rumble sounded from within the dragon’s throat. “You will die!”
“You cannot kill me!” Adrian shouted. “You granted my appeal to Arxad!”
“You deceived me. You did not tell me you were the assassin.”
Adrian raced through his words. “You neglected to ask, but your failure doesn’t change the bargain. If a dragon’s word is ever to be honored above a human’s, then you are obligated to keep it. Otherwise, you will be forever scorned by all, for just as vermin skitter from rubbish heaps and spread disease from body to body, so will the news of a dishonest dragon spread from ear to ear, and your integrity will be destroyed among your own kind, and your claims of superiority over those spreading the news will be bankrupt. You would have to kill every child here to assure that your lie remains a secret.”
“Oh, bravo!” Cassabrie shouted. “That was masterful!”
Adrian concealed a swallow. Not exactly masterful. That last statement was stupid. No sense giving the dragon any ideas.
Nancor grumbled under his breath. “I concede your point. Yet, granting your access to Arxad is a trivial matter. Even he will not defend a dragon killer.”
“Then take me to him,” Adrian said, spreading out his arms again. “I am ready.”
“Very well, but you have no idea what awaits you.”
Shellinda ran to Adrian, wrapped her arms around his waist, and leaned her head against his stomach. “Thank you for saving us!” she cried.
Adrian patted her on the head and spoke in a gentle, low tone. “You are worth saving, precious one.”
She looked up at him, her eyes brighter than before. “But I’m not worth anything. I’m skinny and weak, and I fall a lot, and—”
“Shhh.” He pushed his fingers through her tangled hair. “You’re human. That’s all that matters to me. I gladly give my life for you.”
He kissed her on the forehead, and, as he pushed her gently away, she kept her stare fixed on him, whispering, “I will save you, kind sir, no matter what it takes.”
With a beat of his wings, Nancor took off, flew in a quick circle, and swooped down. He dug his claws into Adrian’s back and shoulders and lifted him into the air.
“Augh!” Adrian arched his back, biting his lip to keep from crying out again. Below, dozens of children had emerged from the mound, and they all looked up. As Nancor flew away, Shellinda trotted underneath, apparently trying to follow, but she soon fell behind and gave up.
With horrific pain stabbing his shoulders and ripping down his spine, Adrian could only watch. He was a mouse in an owl’s talons, being taken to a court with owls for judges. Did a mouse ever win such a trial? Would Arxad really help? He was a dragon, and, as Nancor said, he likely wouldn’t want to give counsel to a dragon killer. All seemed lost, at least for him. Yet, not for the children. They still had hope. They had Marcelle. And maybe Frederick was still around somewhere, ready to help once she found him. And maybe their father would journey from the Northlands and lend his expertise and his sword.
Adrian sighed. Yes, there was still hope for the children, but apparently very little hope that he would be around to witness their liberation. So he might never know if those precious lambs escaped from their torture. If the Code’s promise of an afterlife proved true, maybe he would be able to see their escape from a distant shore, but it wouldn’t be the same as marching the precious ones to freedom in person. To be in their presence, to see their tears of sadness transform into tears of joy, to dance with them in the streets of liberty—Oh, that would be true paradise. Yet, it was not to be.
As the pain in his back heightened, the sky turned darker. This journey to the world of dragons was about to end.
SEVENTEEN
MARCELLE scrambled out of the hole, now wearing Adrian’s sword and scabbard on one hip and the viper blade on the other. She looked at the sky. Nancor clutched Adrian’s shoulders with his rear talons and let him dangle. Blood streamed down his arms as the dragon pitched him into a sway.
Thad lay dead on his stomach. With his body charred from the waist up and his buttocks exposed to gathering flies, he seemed to be a symbol of the slavish tragedy—humanity reduced to chattel, bearing value only insomuch as they served someone more powerful than they, easily disposed of when that value diminished in the sight of the conqueror. Human life had become nothing more than a decorative bauble that could be cast away whenever convenient.
Cold sweat dampened Marcelle’s brow. Clenching her teeth, she rolled her fingers into a tight ball. The beast! The sick, twisted monster! Before this journey was over, that dragon’s heart would be skewered at the end of her sword!
She rushed to Shellinda and Erin. “Where will the dragon—” She hushed herself. That was a shout. She couldn’t afford to get caught now.
Looking Shellinda in the eye, she lowered her voice. “Where will Nancor take Adrian?”
Shellinda pointed toward the dragon’s shrinking form. “Adrian asked for Arxad’s counsel, so probably to the Zodiac. It’s in the dragon village.”
“If I get you out of here, can you show me the way?”
Shellinda nodded. “It’s not real far.”
Marcelle looked back at the mound. “Where is Tamara?”
“Tamara?” Shellinda repeated, tilting her head up at her. “Why are you asking about her?”
“I want to tell her brother how she’s doing.”
Erin held up the trousers. “Come with me.”
As the three hurried to the other side of the mound, the remaining children scattered to various holes, the boys and girls separating into gender lines before climbing into the dim burrows. When they reached the opposite side, Erin slid into a hole and disappeared.
Shellinda tugged on Marcelle’s sleeve. “Nancor has a big head start. We have to help Adrian right away.”
“We?” Marcelle set a hand on Shellinda’s head. “Once you show me this Zodiac place, I’m going to find you a safe spot to hide. Or maybe you should come back here. When the dragons discover that you’re missing, won’t they look for you, or maybe kill some of your friends?”
Shellinda pulled away from Marcelle’s touch. “If one of us escapes, they don’t care enough to kill anyone. We’re not v
aluable. Whenever the count was down by one, Thad searched every hole to see if someone was sick or dead, and he dragged that person out, dead or alive, to show Nancor. If a missing slave couldn’t be accounted for, Nancor would whip Thad, so Thad made sure we didn’t wander off anywhere.”
“So since Nancor isn’t here,” Marcelle said slowly, “and you don’t have an overseer …”
“Now is the time to escape.” Shellinda pointed downstream. “Yarlan might be guarding that exit in Millence’s place, and no one can climb the thorny vines, so they think we can’t get out. And for most of us, that’s probably true, but maybe one sneaky little girl like me could manage it.”
Marcelle looked upstream. “What about that way? The water gets in here somehow. Is there a gate?”
Shellinda nodded. “Metal bars. It’s—”
“Aren’t you two coming?” Erin had poked her head out of the hole. “Tamara has her trousers on now.”
Marcelle gestured for Erin to slide back into the hovel, then lowered herself inside, followed by Shellinda. When her feet touched the floor, she tried to straighten, but her head bumped against the ceiling. Even Erin had to stoop to walk around.
On the opposite side of the circular room, about two steps away, a body lay on a haphazard pile of straw. As Marcelle’s eyes adjusted to the dimness, the view clarified. A girl, maybe seven years old, lay curled in a fetal position. Her torso bare and calf-length trousers hanging loosely on her narrow hips, she heaved shallow breaths.
Marcelle knelt at her side and tried to push her fingers through Tamara’s hair, but it was too tangled and matted. She touched Tamara’s ribs, clearly outlined in her emaciated frame. The little girl trembled at the touch. Yet, her eyes stayed closed. Might she be asleep? Unconscious?
As the odor of urine drifted into Marcelle’s nostrils, she swallowed down a gag reflex. Apparently no feces littered the straw, so someone had been keeping her area somewhat clean.
Marcelle turned to Shellinda and Erin as they crouched nearby. “How long has she been here?”
“Not real long,” Shellinda said. “She got sick maybe twenty days ago. Thad dragged her out to show Nancor and then brought her back and left her to rot. A little while later, Thad ripped his trousers, so he took hers. He decided that as long as she wasn’t going to work, she didn’t need them.”
“Twenty days!” Marcelle said. “How could she survive?”
Erin picked up a handful of straw. “We girls have been chipping in to help her stay clean … well, sort of clean. But no one wants to give up her food, so she doesn’t get much to eat, just a few crumbs a day. Good thing she was well fed before she got here.”
Marcelle muttered under her breath. “A few crumbs. Pitiful.”
“I gave her all my food a couple of times,” Shellinda said. “She’d be dead by now if I didn’t.”
“But you never washed her or cleaned her straw,” Erin countered.
“I did so! I even—”
“Hush! It doesn’t matter.” Marcelle slid her hands under Tamara’s back. “Help me get her out of here.”
“Are you going to take her out of the camp?” Shellinda asked.
“Like you said …” Marcelle lifted Tamara into her arms. “With Nancor and Thad gone, now is our best chance. They won’t miss her.”
After exiting the hovel, Marcelle stood with Erin and Shellinda near the stream, cradling Tamara. Although the girl’s arms and legs hung loosely, she felt no heavier than a sack of bones.
Twilight darkened the sky. With the dragons thinking they had the assassin in their grasp, the timing was perfect. “We’ll go over the wall,” Marcelle whispered to Shellinda and Erin. “I might need both of you to help me get Tamara to the other side. I’m hoping her brother is still there to help us.”
Marcelle marched across the pebbly field, leading the girls straight to the point where she and Adrian had scaled the wall earlier. With darkness shrouding their advance, even if a dragon guarded the stream’s exit, he likely wouldn’t see them.
When they reached the wall, Marcelle scanned the thorns on top, searching for the bare spot. A light shone from somewhere, aiding the effort. Might a moon be rising?
After a moment or two, she found the gap in the thorns and let out a whistle, trying to copy the one Adrian had used, but it sounded weak and raspy by comparison.
Another whistle sounded from beyond the wall, shaky and shrill. Seconds later, Scott’s head appeared at the top. “Where have you been?” he whisper-shouted. “I’ve been waiting and waiting!”
Marcelle lifted Tamara higher. “I brought you your sister.”
“My sister?” Scott vaulted over the wall, landed on his feet, and staggered toward her. He laid a hand gently on her cheek. As he stroked it with a finger, his chest heaved. “Is she …”
“She’s alive.” Marcelle shuffled toward the wall. “Help me get her out of here.”
Scott’s voice quaked. “What do I do?”
She nodded at the hip scabbard that sheathed Adrian’s sword. “Take my sword and shave off the thorns, just like we did before.”
Scott slid it out and began slicing away at the twisted vines, careful to leave enough intact to maintain a way to climb. After returning the sword, he scrambled back up, squatted at the top, and reached down as far as he could. “If you can get her hands this high, I can lift her.
With Shellinda climbing on one side of Marcelle and Erin climbing on the other, both grasping one of Tamara’s wrists, Marcelle pushed Tamara’s body upward. Scott snatched an arm and hoisted her the rest of the way. His hardened muscles rippled in the light of the rising moon.
Now holding Tamara in his arms, he smiled at Marcelle. “Going down will be easy, but what will happen when the dragons find out she’s gone?”
“Don’t worry,” Marcelle said, clutching a vine. “They won’t know. Just get her home. She needs food and water right away. And if you can let the patriarch know we’re coming, it might help.”
“I can do that.” Holding Tamara under one arm, Scott turned and descended without a sound.
Marcelle climbed to the top and looked down, pointing at each girl in turn. “Shellinda, follow me. Erin, stay here and cover our tracks.”
While Shellinda climbed, Erin’s face wrinkled. “When are you going to come back for me?”
Marcelle sat on the wall’s bare crest and raised her hand. “I swear to you that I will free everyone in this hellhole, even if I have to kill every dragon on the planet to do it.”
A weak smile broke through. “Okay,” Erin said. “But please hurry. It will be lonely without Shellinda.”
When Marcelle and Shellinda dropped to the forest side of the wall, Scott was nowhere in sight. “First, show me the Zodiac,” Marcelle whispered, “and then we need to find Lattimer.”
“He’s a night watchman in the dragon village.” Shellinda looked around as if trying to get her bearings. After a few seconds, she pointed northward. “We have to go that way and then follow the bend in the wall. The dragon village is about a half hour away.”
Marcelle touched her shirt. “Will I be conspicuous in this?”
Shellinda blinked at her. “Con … what?”
“Conspicuous. Will dragons notice that we’re out of place?”
Shellinda dabbed one of the oozing stripes on her chest. “More me than you. Girls wear shirts everywhere unless they’re cattle, like me.”
“You’re not cattle!” Marcelle barked. She quickly covered her lips with her fingers and whispered between them. “Sorry. I tend to lose my temper easily.”
“Don’t worry about it. You’re a stranger here, so you don’t know how we live. Since the Separators put me here, I will be cattle until someone buys me or I get sent to the breeders. If they don’t want me, when I turn thirteen, I go to the mill.”
“The mill?”
Shellinda nodded, using her hands to explain. “They put a reject in a big hopper. She slides down to a rolling stone that smashes her body
and grinds her meat and bones into a messy glob. Then they feed the glob to the wolves to keep them away from the slaves.”
Marcelle set her hands on her hips and gave her a skeptical frown. “That sounds like a fairy tale.”
“A fairy tale? What’s that?”
“A made-up story someone uses to either encourage people or else scare them.”
“The mill scares me, but not as much as the breeding rooms.” Shellinda shivered. “Do you want me to tell you what happens there?”
Marcelle waved a hand. “I’d rather you not, but it can’t be worse than how I picture it in my imagination.”
“Don’t be so sure.”
Marcelle tried to read Shellinda’s expression, but with the forest canopy blocking the moon’s glow, shadows veiled the little girl’s face.
“Here’s what we’ll do,” Marcelle said as she stripped her outer tunic over her head. “You can wear this. It’s big, but it will be less noticeable in the dark than having nothing on at all.”
While Shellinda put it on, Marcelle straightened her remaining shirt and checked the buttons. Everything seemed intact, and it was finally dry.
Marcelle looked Shellinda over. As a breeze swept through the woods, the shirt billowed like a canopy. Marcelle tied the tail into a knot, tightening the shirt over the girl’s narrow body. “That should do it.”
“Let’s go.” Shellinda scampered ahead, dodging trees and bushes as if following a path illuminated by three moons hovering in the sky. Marcelle forced her body into a swift run to keep pace with the surprisingly energetic girl. Her own legs ached, revealing her exhaustion. Yet, the image of Adrian hanging from the dragon’s clutches flashed in her mind, spurring her forward. Somehow she had to find him, rescue him, bind his wounds. Right now, nothing else mattered.
She bit her lip, hard enough to sting. She had been such a fool! Why couldn’t she control her temper? Sure, her attack had brought about the death of a dragon, but at what cost? Adrian’s life? And he had taken her place, given himself up as a sacrifice. He trusted her to free the slaves in his stead.
