Ambush: 3 (Pillagy)

by Obert Skye

  I still had no great idea where to put them. I halfway wished I had planted them in the train cave, but it was so far away and it would have taken too much effort to get to. And hauling food up there would have been almost impossible. I thought about moving them up to the seventh floor of the manor. If I put them in the big hall of the east wing they might go unnoticed for an afternoon. I had no real solution, so I figured I would just take them deep into the forest and make sure they were tied up so they couldn’t travel too far. If I got them beyond the boulder field, there was a small grove that would hide them from everyone. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but it was the best I could think of.

  Millie and Thomas were going into Kingsplot in the afternoon to take care of some legal matters for my father. Wane would be gone as well with her boyfriend. So now felt like the perfect time to move the dragons. Scott was a problem, but he was supposedly working on repairing part of the stable roof. If I took the dragons out the east end, he would never see anything.

  I returned to my room and waited for Millie and Thomas to leave. I stood by my window and witnessed Wane getting picked up and driving off.

  It was now or never.

  I went down to the glass cavern and tried to explain to the dragons what was happening.

  “We’re going someplace better,” I said. “But I’ll have to take you one at a time.”

  They seemed fine with it, but I could tell they also didn’t really understand.

  I knew that Paul and Malcolm would freak out if I took Jude first, so the plan was to take Malcolm, then Jude, and finally Paul.

  “This is going to be great,” I said putting my left arm around Malcolm’s neck and leading him toward the elevator.

  He followed me into the elevator without making any fuss. The fit inside the elevator was tight but we both squeezed in. I turned on the flashlight hanging from the ceiling and adjusted the light. Everything was running smoothly until I pressed the button. The metal gate dropped, and the elevator wheezed and began to lift. Malcolm pushed at the walls and dug his right wing into my stomach.

  “Easy, Malcolm,” I said. “This will just take a few minutes.”

  Malcolm snorted repeatedly as if he were on the verge of hyperventilating. He rocked on his feet and blinked his blue eyes rapidly. He opened his jaw, and his long red tongue rolled out and hung from the side of his mouth as he panted.

  “It’s going to be fine,” I comforted, patting him on his scaly yellow neck.

  The truth is, I could tell it wasn’t going to be fine. Each inch we ascended, Malcolm became more and more agitated. He snapped at me twice, and by the time we had lifted high enough to be above ground, he was screeching and pulling at the metal gate. He kept trying to open his wings and jump through the ceiling. The flashlight was knocked about, giving the elevator a sort of strobe-light feel. He tore my shirt in half, ripped the right knee of my jeans, and dug a long scratch on my left arm. I started screaming louder than he was, begging him to knock it off. I was scared that his struggling and fighting would break the small elevator apart or strand us mid-floors.

  “Please, Malcolm,” I pleaded. “Hang on.”

  Just as the elevator was about to come apart at the corners, we lifted above the fourth floor and came to a stop at the fifth. I threw open the gate and pushed the closet door open. Malcolm didn’t waste a second; he burst from the elevator and into the bathroom. He thrashed around, slipping on the tile floor and trying to figure out just where he was.

  “Malcolm!” I yelled, grabbing at his tail.

  He whipped his tail around, shaking off my grip. He then ran from the bathroom and into the hall. I ran after him, but he was too fast.

  “Malcolm!”

  His strong talons grabbed the floor and propelled him forward. I could see chunks of wood floor flying around like shrapnel. I dove at him, and he grabbed onto the hallway wall and ran sideways for three steps before spinning and diving into the large fifth-floor foyer.

  Malcolm turned and faced me. Spreading his red wings, he stood up tall on his hind legs and snorted.

  I held up my hands to show that I wasn’t going to do anything. I could see the large windows behind him and knew that if he wanted to he could just bust out and I’d never catch him.

  “Malcolm,” I reasoned. “I’m not going to hurt you. We just need to relocate.”

  He cocked his head.

  “Relocate,” I said slowly as if he just needed me to enunciate to clear things up.

  I was worried he might go out the windows, but instead he turned and charged directly toward one of the interior walls. He was so strong he broke right through the wall and into one of the bedrooms on the floor. Dust and wood flew everywhere as I stood there in awe.

  I could hear him thrashing around in the other room and then he burst out of another wall and back into the hall. Apparently he had no concept of doors.

  “Malcolm, stop!”

  He tore down the hall, running along the floor and the wall. He would screech and hop back to the other wall to run farther. He was like a tempest that swirled up and down the walls as he ran. He reached the end of the hall and turned to look back at me.

  I suddenly couldn’t decide if I really wanted him to come to me or not. The look in his eyes was one of great malice.

  “Listen, Malcolm,” I said, holding my hands up. “I was just trying to help. You couldn’t stay down there forever.”

  Malcolm didn’t like my discourse. He screeched and came charging toward me. I moved to the side, and he ran back into the foyer and through the opposite side wall. Before the dust had settled, he had come out the other side and was running on the wall heading in the direction of the bathroom. He skidded to a stop.

  “Hold on!” I ordered him.

  Malcolm looked at me and opened his dark red mouth. He stomped his feet and crashed through another wall into the room right next to the bathroom that was filled with old washers and boilers. He kept going and rammed himself through the inner wall and into the bathroom. As he did, a large iron boiler broke loose from the storage room and crashed into the bathroom. The boiler rolled on its side and stopped in front of the elevator door.

  Malcolm jumped over the boiler and climbed into the elevator. He then sat there calmly and looked directly at me.

  “Fine,” I said. “We’ll go back down.”

  Malcolm snorted.

  I squeezed back into the elevator with him and pushed the button. I had no idea it was possible for a dragon to look so smug.

  “This is what you want?” I asked as the elevator began to descend. “There’s no way out for you guys.”

  Malcolm didn’t seem to care.

  “Seriously,” I said. “In a day or two you’ll be too big to get out.”

  Malcolm emitted a deep guttural growl. I didn’t mean to, but I got goose bumps. I guess there’s just something goose-bump-inducing about descending in a secret elevator with a growling dragon.

  “I can’t keep bringing food down,” I tried to reason, barely able to move in the cramped space. “You’ll die without food.”

  Malcolm stayed still.

  “Fine,” I said again. “I’ll keep bringing you food, and we’ll figure something out.”

  The dragon was silent.

  “A thank-you would be nice,” I said half joking.

  I didn’t get my thank-you, but when the elevator finally reached the bottom, it was clear that Jude and Paul had been just as upset about Malcolm leaving as he had. All the empty buckets were overturned, and hay was strewn everywhere. The lights I had set up were knocked over, and one of them was smashed to pieces. The generator hadn’t been touched, but I could tell by Paul’s facial expression that if I had not returned when I had, that too would have been destroyed.

  Malcolm joined his companions, and all three screamed in some sort of screechy harmony. It wasn’t pretty, but it was nice to see them happy.

  “We could all die down here,” I pointed out.

  They didn
’t seem to care.

  Chapter 24

  What Goes On

  Eventually I got back up to the fifth floor, where I assessed the damage that Malcolm had done. It looked like the entire place was in the midst of extensive and poorly executed remodeling. I knew that if anyone came up here there was no way I wouldn’t be busted. My only hope was that nobody ventured past the fourth floor.

  I spent the rest of the time that Millie and Thomas were away hauling down more water and supplies. I went to the pantry and took as much food as I could without it being instantly obvious that I had ransacked the place. I took everything that was on the back shelves and the tall shelves. I took things that I knew Millie never used. I gathered a bunch of frozen deer meat that was in the deep freezer in the garage. After all of my hard work, I knew I still had enough food for the next couple of days.

  When Millie and Thomas got home, I was sitting at the big worktable in the kitchen, acting as if I were doing my homework.

  “Beck,” Thomas said.

  “Hi,” I greeted them. “Back already?”

  “It’s nice to see you behaving,” Millie said kindly.

  The three of us had an amazing dinner. Millie made a crusty meat pie with potatoes and gravy that was outrageously good. For dessert we had gingerbread cake smothered in a hot, buttery caramel sauce. Thomas was so taken by the taste that he actually blushed while complimenting Millie.

  “Did you see my father?” I asked.

  “No,” Millie replied. “They’re not allowing any visitors.”

  “For how long?”

  “He’s not well,” Thomas said solemnly, ruining the taste of dessert just a bit. “We are greatly concerned. Although he’s had spells in the past, this last year has been a real setback.”

  My brain pulsated—talking about my father bothered me in ways that I wasn’t accustomed to. I felt anger and pity. I also felt fear that he would try and take away what I had. He had tried before and almost killed me. I couldn’t let him do it again. I suppose that’s why I was so happy to hear he was going to be kept in the hospital.

  “Beck,” Millie said interrupting my thoughts. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine,” I said. “I’m just sort of dazed by your cooking.”

  Millie appreciated that.

  “So I picked up your tux for your dance,” Thomas announced.

  “What?” I asked confused. I had neglected to tell anyone that Kate and I were over and that I wouldn’t be going to the prom. I had figured there would be less chance of me having to explain what happened if I never told them it happened in the first place.

  “This is so exciting,” Millie clapped.

  Thomas stepped out of the kitchen and returned with a long cloth bag.

  “You shouldn’t have,” I said uncomfortably.

  “It’s my responsibility,” Thomas said humbly.

  “Open it,” Millie said with excitement.

  I didn’t want to open it. I also didn’t want them to know about Kate or about how Wyatt was taking her to the prom instead of me.

  “Open it,” Millie said again.

  I reluctantly stood up and hung the top of the bag on a hook on the wall. I untied the bottom of it and pulled the cloth sack up. The color of the tux was somewhere between beige and vomit green.

  “Try the jacket on for size,” Thomas asked.

  “That’s okay,” I said.

  “Beck,” Millie snapped. “This is important.”

  I took the jacket off the hanger and put it on. The lapels were six inches thick and made from heavy velvet. It had gold buttons on the front and a satin trim running down the sleeves.

  “My word,” Millie said. “You look so handsome.”

  “Like a true dandy,” Thomas said proudly. “Like a dandy. I daresay there will be no other with such finely made formal wear.”

  That was a dare I wished I didn’t have to experience. I hated Thomas’s taste in everything.

  “Kate’s going to go soft in the knees,” Millie bragged.

  I remembered that I wasn’t actually going to the prom. That thought made me feel a little better, knowing that I would never have to wear this.

  “The fit is exquisite,” Thomas said proudly.

  “Now take that off so you don’t get it dirty,” Millie scolded.

  I was more than happy to oblige.

  “If you want, we can leave the kitchen so that you can call Kate and tell her what color you’re wearing,” Millie said excitedly. “She’ll need to know for the boutonniere.”

  I had no idea what a boutonniere was, but the thought of them leaving and me calling Kate seemed like a good one. I knew I had done a lot of things wrong, but I still believed that if I could just talk to her for a few minutes she would come around.

  “Would you like us to leave?” Millie asked.

  I nodded, and Thomas and Millie got up and exited the kitchen as if I was a fire they needed to escape from. I waited until I heard their footsteps fade and then walked over to the phone and picked it up. I knew that Kate’s parents didn’t really like me to call, so I prepared a fake voice and name to give them so that they’d actually hand the phone to Kate.

  “Ashley Harrison,” I said, practicing to try to sound like a girl.

  I dialed Kate’s number and waited. After four rings, Kate herself picked up.

  “Hi,” I said softly.

  “What do you want, Beck?”

  “I just can’t shake the feeling that this might be my fault,” I joked.

  “I need to go,” Kate didn’t joke.

  “No, wait,” I pleaded. “Can’t we talk about all of this?”

  “I don’t trust you,” she said. “You’ve lied to me one too many times, and unless you can explain to me why I should believe you again, there’s nothing to talk about.”

  “Remember how I told you about that problem I had when I was young?” I asked. “Would someone who wasn’t open and honest have shared that?”

  “Wetting the bed and destroying the world are two different things,” Kate pointed out.

  “But they’re both kinda awkward.”

  “I need to go,” she said again.

  “This isn’t fair, Kate,” I begged. “You know there are things I have to do.”

  “Apparently being honest isn’t one of them.”

  “Are you saying that if I had told you, you’d be fine with all this?”

  “No,” she said, “but I might still care for you.”

  My heart was not enjoying her tone of voice.

  “What about the prom?” I asked.

  “What about it?” She was short and cold.

  “You’re not really going with Wyatt.”

  “I told you that’s none of your business.”

  “You can’t do it,” I insisted.

  “Really?” Kate said strongly. “I don’t think you’re in any position to tell me what I can and can’t do. Good night.”

  The phone clicked.

  I cleaned off my plate and returned to my room, where I hung up my ugly tux and then spent some time with The Grim Knot. I knew that there were still things inside it that would help me with the dragons below.

  After an hour of reading, I stood up and looked in the mirror above my dresser. I looked so different. My dark hair was getting long, and my eyes looked more intense than I remembered them. But the biggest difference was the hardness in my jaw and in my expression. I didn’t really like it. I looked like someone I wouldn’t want to be friends with.

  “That makes sense,” I said to myself. “I have no friends at the moment.”

  I thought about who I had been when I had arrived in Kingsplot and who I was today. The things I had experienced and the stuff I now knew were heavy memories and thoughts. I could see why Kate didn’t like me. I wasn’t the kind of person that cried, so I didn’t. True, there were things that I wish I had done differently, but there was no way I was going to regret planting the last stone. Jude felt like an extension of me, and it wa
s a part of me that I did like.

  “Prom,” I said aloud. “Who needs it?”

  Mr. Binkers just stared at me, gently reminding me that besides Jude, Malcolm, and Paul I had no real friends anymore—and according to most people, dragons didn’t even exist.