“Yeah, you’re real lucky, mister. Real lucky.” Simon realized that the boy didn’t believe him. But what else could he say? It was the truth. “So where you been all this time? It’s been over three years since we got attacked. And you just been sitting around, hiding somewhere?”
“Hiding? Yes, I guess you could say I’ve been hiding. What choice did I have? What choice do any of us who survived have? As long as the monster continues to fly over us, we have to hide, don’t we?”
The boy laughed. “We don’t hide! We do what we want and it never bugs us.”
Simon turned around to face the voice and stared at the rubble that blocked his view of the boy. “You don’t hide?” He couldn’t believe that! “But, but why aren’t you attacked? Everything that moves is attacked.”
“Yeah? Everything but us, mister. We fit in this world. We’re supposed to be here. So we’re left alone.”
The boy sounded cocky but very sure of himself. Before he could ask another question about this incredible claim, a new voice that sounded like a very young girl, spoke up from the right side of Daniel’s house.
“You’re like us, aren’t you mister? Huh? I can see your hair and your face and you’re wearing that robe…you’re a Changeling too!” She sounded excited.
Simon didn’t answer. He had not wanted to Change! He had not wanted to become whatever the hell he had become and was still becoming.
The older boy, whom he now thought of as the leader, spoke up again.
“He’s not like us, Sarah. Look at him. He’s old. He’s a grown-up. Grown-ups didn’t Change like we did!”
“Don’t be dumb, Bobby!” the girl replied tartly. “Look at him. Really look. He’s a Changeling all right.”
Simon heard the sound of rocks and pebbles shifting and turned back toward the leader’s location. The sound moved slowly to his right and he followed it with his eyes until a small figure slowly appeared over a mound of scorched timbers and melted glass.
He couldn’t see a definite shape because the boy was shrouded from head to toe with layers of rags and torn clothing. He could not even see the boy’s feet beneath the clothes, but he limped and shuffled as if he were injured or somehow disfigured. As the figure approached, he could hear a muffled panting and small wheezes of pain. Finally, Bobby stopped and stood perhaps six feet away from him. He just stood and, Simon assumed, looked him over closely.
“Push back your hood, mister!” he ordered.
Simon stiffened at the tone and hesitated a moment. Then with a sigh, he lifted the hood slightly with both hands and let it fall on to his back.
The little figure gasped and stumbled backwards.
“Your eyes!” he said. Simon waited. After a moment, Bobby shuffled closer again. “Well,” he said. “You sure do look different, mister. You got the evil eye, don’t ya?”
“Evil eye?” Simon asked. “What’s that?”
“My mom told me about it. A few years before the Change started, she used to tell me spooky bedtime stories. I remember one about a witch who could curse people just by looking at them. My mom said she had the evil eye, because her eyes were different colors, blue and brown just like yours.”
Simon shrugged. “I don’t know about evil eyes. I just know that before the Change, I had two ordinary brown eyes. Now I have these. I think I see the same as I used to, so why they Changed…” He shrugged.
He heard more sounds of movement and looked back towards Daniel’s house. Several more small figures, all wrapped up like Bobby, were slowly appearing from the rubble. He counted a half dozen. The smallest one, who was no taller than a five year old child, shuffled right up to him.
“I knew it,” she said and he realized that this must be Sarah. “I knew you were like us! Told ya, Bobby. It’s not just kids that got Changed. Some grown-ups did too.”
Bobby stood silent for a moment. Then he sighed and said “Okay, Sarah. You were right, again.” He backed up from Simon. “But he still doesn’t belong here! This is our place now. Even if he’s Changed, he’s still a grown-up.”
“Like I said, I’m not staying,” Simon said. “If you will let me, I’d just like to look around in the rubble for a bit and then I’ll leave.”
“Well, I dunno,” Bobby said hesitantly.
“Oh Bobby! What harm can he do?” Sarah sounded irritated. Simon had already noticed that the little girl had some control over her young leader and he waited to see if Bobby would let him search the ruins.
“We been through this whole place already, you know that,” she continued. “If he wants to poke around, so what? He won’t find anything we want, will he?”
“No, that’s true,” Bobby said. He seemed to think about it a moment, and then through the rags Simon saw a motion that might have been a nod. “Okay mister,” the boy said. “You got one hour to look around. But after that, you gotta go.”
“Thank you, Bobby.” The figure jerked slightly at the sound of his name but said nothing. “I won’t stay long.” Simon looked at the remains of his friend’s house. “Like Sarah said, there probably isn’t anything here anyway.”
The leader turned away and began hobbling back toward his original hiding place. The others moved off as well, but Sarah remained where she was.
“Whatcha hoping to find, mister?” she asked quietly.
Behind him, Simon heard Bobby stop. He knew the leader was watching him closely.
“I don’t know, Sarah,” he answered softly. “I hoped maybe Daniel had the time to leave me a message. Or maybe I just hoped to find some sign that he had escaped.” He looked at her, wondering if she could understand at her age. “He was my best friend. And he knew, Sarah. Somehow he knew. So I was hoping…”
“You were hoping he made it,” she said firmly.
He nodded. “Yes, I was. And I still am. I can’t imagine him not making it. Even if I find nothing here, I won’t give up believing that.”
Simon smiled at her. She stood there a moment and then he saw the rags part and her hand appeared.
Except for the dirt, it was a little girl’s hand and it was holding something.
“Take this, mister,” she said.
Simon reached out and she dropped the object into his palm. It was a stone, just like the millions of other bits of rubble that surrounded them. Curious, he rolled it over on his palm. One side was flat and a crude symbol had been etched into it.
“What’s this, Sarah?” he asked. She turned and walked back toward the mounds of rubble.
“Keep it,” she said. “It’s a lucky stone. Maybe it will keep you safe until you're out of the city. Maybe not. We can’t protect you from the bad ones. Don’t stay too long.”
She reached the top of a mound and began to slowly climb down the other side.
“You mean there are others living in the city?” he said loudly.
“Yes,” she said. She disappeared from sight.
“Other Changelings?” he called.
He could barely hear the answer.
“No.”
Chapter 2
Simon stood up slowly. His whole body ached from searching through the rubble. He had moved bricks, kicked over mounds of debris and pushed aside all manner of junk and had found nothing. Everything that could burn; the wooden furniture, fabrics, the books, all had been consumed. He mourned the loss of the books most of all. Daniel’s library had been a haven for both Simon and him. They had discussed Daniel’s latest finds there, had heated debates on the meaning of ancient prophesies, had spent hours in fascinated study of legends that were just close enough to reality to hint at their basis in fact. And all of it was gone.
He stood up and stretched. His back was burning from creeping along, bent over through the unstable heaps of rock. He looked around. There were a few small spaces that he had found under several piles of rocks and pieces of cement but if there had been something there once, it was gone now. He assumed Bobby and the others had removed anything usable from the house. It must have take
n him at least an hour for the search, but no one had returned to tell him to leave. He was deep inside, near the foundation of the house now, and there was just one corner that he had not searched.
Several metal support beams had collapsed together and formed a lop-sided pyramid. Simon knelt down and pushed aside the rubble that was beneath the beams and rolled a few rounded pieces of cement out of the way. He caught his breath. The edge of a battered tin box, scratched and rusted in places, was poking out of the rubble. He took a deep breath and coughed from the dust in the air. Then he reached out and grabbed the box. He had to twist and yank at it to get it out of its resting place. He was surprised to find that his hands were shaking.
The box was about a foot square and four inches deep. There were no markings on its flat black surface and it was closed with a lock that was flush to the side the metal. And it was heavy. Simon grunted with effort as he stood up and raised the box to look at it.
It felt solid. He shook it but there was no sound from inside and nothing moved or rolled. He stood there a moment. He had not brought anything that could be used to force open the lock and banging at it with a rock might attract attention from the Changelings or whoever else still lived in the area. He shrugged. It might not be a message from Daniel but he had not found anything else here. And his allotted time to search was definitely used up. He jammed the box into his backpack.
Time to go.
Slipping over the rubble, Simon slowly made his way back to the street. He saw no one, but a glance at the sky told him that it was after noon; about three or so. Just enough time to retrace his steps and get out of town before dark. He turned and headed back along the route that had first brought him here. He took one, perhaps two steps and stopped.
He heard nothing unusual but the daylight seemed to dim suddenly and the air grew cold and clammy. He could feel the skin on the back of his neck and scalp tightening. His breathing grew short.
“What the hell?” he said under his breath and looked around again. Still no sign or sound of anyone, but his body or his subconscious knew that something was wrong. He waited. Nothing.
Okay, he thought. I’ll count to ten and if there’s still nothing, I’ll start moving again.
He began counting slowly to himself. Just as he reached nine, he heard a hiss. Like the meeting with Bobby and his group, Simon could see no one, but the sound had come from Daniel’s house, almost in the same spot that Sarah had first appeared.
He reached down and lightly ran the tips of his fingers over the hilt of his dagger. The glyphs etched there felt rough to his fingers, but he felt a little more secure as he touched them. He wasn’t totally defenseless, although whether the bloody things actually did what he thought they did was another matter. He had not tested them and could not, unless he actually used the dagger on an enemy.
Have a little faith, he thought. Yeah right.
He jumped slightly as the hissing sounded again. But this time, there were words being hissed at him.
“Well, aren’t you the kind boy,” the voice said. “To lead me and mine to the kiddies’ hideaway. And here we thought that you were going to be our only prize. How sweet. Yesss. Sweet.”
The voice chilled Simon. It was female, perhaps. And it sounded so friendly, so warm. But that warmth made the words being spoken all the more frightening.
“I’m sorry,” he said loudly. His voice broke and he cleared his throat before continuing. “What children? I don’t know what you mean.”
“Ah now, dear. You are trying to trick us. But we smell their sweet scent. That lovely meat smell. So delicious. Oh yes, so sweet to us.”
Simon backed slowly away from the source of the voice, trying to angle his path so that he was retreating down the street instead of into more ruins. He managed to move two steps and the voice hissed loudly.
“Going somewhere, dear? But we just started our little chat. And you deserve some reward for leading us to the kiddies. They have been able to hide from us for so long, always moving, never stepping out of the shadows.” He heard a high-pitched giggle and felt a chill run down his spine. “But now look! They stopped and talked to you. They let us catch up to them. They came into the light! How exciting for us. We must find a way to reward you. Now, what shall it be? Let me think a minute.”
He could feel a wave of panic beginning to well up inside of him. He wasn’t strong but he was a good runner. Could he outrun them? Maybe the tumbled buildings and houses would slow them down long enough for him to get away. He was about to turn and make a break for it when he heard something.
“Mister?”
He looked around. It sounded like Sarah’s voice but he couldn’t see her and he could barely hear her.
“Hey, mister! Hold the stone.”
Hold the stone? What did that mean? He was rattled by the evil, unseen woman and couldn’t seem to think.
“In your pocket…the stone!” Sarah said impatiently.
Oh, right. The stone. He reached slowly into his pocket and gripped the small pebble that she had given him.
“Ah good.” Her voice now sounded much clearer, as if she was standing right beside him. “That’s much better.”
“Sarah?” he asked.
“Yup, it’s me. You sure get in trouble fast for a grown-up. And don’t speak loud. Just whisper so they can’t hear you.”
“What’s going on?” he whispered. “How are you doing this?”
“Doesn’t matter right now. Listen close ‘cause you don’t have a lotta time.”
Simon glanced at the ruins of Daniel’s house. No movement yet.
“Okay, I’m listening.”
“Good. Now, don’t worry about us. Madam and her pack have been chasing us forever, but they’ll never catch us.”
“Madam?”
Sarah sighed in exasperation. “Just listen! I know she sounds scary and all, but it’s a trick. She and the others can’t come out in the daylight. She’s trying to keep you close until the sun goes down. So, you have to run. You got maybe an hour to leave the city. She won’t follow you into the woods.”
“You mean, just run?”
“Yes, run! And do it now! When you leave the city, we won’t be able to talk no more, but maybe someday…now go mister!”
He hesitated a moment longer, glanced again toward the unseen menace, then turned and ran.
Behind him he heard a high-pitched screech, some unintelligible words aimed at him, but he didn’t stop to listen. He just ran. Down Somerset Street to Elgin. Then a left turn north, slipping occasionally, scrambling along on his hands and knees, then up again and running.
He was panting after a few minutes. A few more minutes and he was sobbing for air. But he ran. He ran for his life.
By the time he had reached Parliament Hill again, covered in scrapes and cuts from falling several times, the light in the sky had dimmed to twilight. He stopped, almost at the same spot that he had set out from that morning and bent over, gasping for breath. After a few moments, the red haze over his eyes faded and he stood up slowly.
He looked around and tried to slow his breathing so he could listen for any sounds of pursuit. The pounding of his heart slowed enough finally to let him listen to his surroundings. It was quiet except for the cries of a few gulls racing along the shore of the Ottawa River that was stretched out below the Hill. The air was growing chill and the sun was setting. He did not have much time to get out of town.
One last look around, as if to embed the memory of his home town into his mind forever and Simon turned west and began to walk toward the setting sun, along the shore of the river. The trees that had begun to grow wildly since the city fell were thicker here and he cautiously made his way down from the Hill to be closer to the water, where the shore was mostly gravel and sand. He was careful not to get too close to the river though. He had seen several large ripples and had heard a few splashes as he had journeyed to Ottawa. He had a feeling that the life forms in the water had Changed as much as the animal
s had on land.
As he came to a bend in the river, he glanced back. The last of the sun’s rays were just touching the uneven spikes of the remnants of the Peace Tower. He paused and stared, watching it fade into darkness. Then he turned away and continued his journey home. He did not look back again.
Chapter 3
It took Simon an entire day to get back home. The evening that he had left Ottawa, he had found some cover in the brush along the riverbank and had slept until daybreak. Then, when he’d found the area where he had left his horse, he had spent another hour circling the large tree that he had used as a landmark before he had found her.
Tammy was happy to see him and, after checking her over, Simon was relieved to discover no evidence that she’d run into any trouble. Of course, it was almost impossible to spot her among the trees and underbrush, since her coat had Changed to a mottled brown and gray patchwork.
He had led her back to the big tree, uncovered his saddle and bridle from some nearby bushes, saddled her up and headed out.
The ride back was uneventful. No dragon appeared in the sky, no creatures crossed their path and Simon allowed Tammy to take her time getting back. He had also swung past his only neighbor's house to see how she was doing and maybe barter for some herbs.
Heather called herself an herb witch. Simon wasn’t quite sure why she had chosen that term, since she had told him that before the Change she had been a retired school teacher. Now though she looked like a young woman in her twenties, moderately attractive as Simon measured such things, with piercing gray eyes under heavy, brooding brows.
But she was pleasant enough and she did have a way with small plants, herbs in particular. And since Simon seemed able to grow almost any type of vegetable, another skill that was new to him, they had begun trading occasionally.
The Dragons Return Page 2
