Embers of Destruction

by J. Scott Savage

  “Quiet,” Trenton said, looking around to make sure no one had overheard them. Garvin, their field supervisor, was a bully who delighted in punishing the smallest infractions. But he was a few hundred feet away, and the next set of workers was well ahead of them. “If they knew we’d killed dragons, they would have done something about it by now. The fact that they haven’t means they don’t know. I’d like to keep it that way.”

  “Oh, they know,” Angus said. “They know everything.”

  As if to emphasize his point, a long, dark-green shape waddled down the row ahead of them, flicking its tongue in and out as it moved. With its blunt, arrow-shaped head and tiny wings, it looked like it should be clumsy and awkward, but it managed to walk almost daintily through the field of tomatoes without damaging a single plant.

  The people who had captured Trenton and the others had warned them that the Ninki Nankas could be dangerous, but Trenton hadn’t believed them. Until yesterday, when he’d seen one attack.

  Trenton had been exploring the edge of the field where it met the forest surrounding the city—gauging how hard it would be to escape—when a small, striped, furry creature appeared out of the trees. For a moment, he and the creature stared at each other, both surprised by the sudden appearance of the other. He didn’t think the creature was a threat, and he certainly had no plans to attack it.

  He’d had no idea the Ninki Nanka was behind him until a green blur raced past him, snatched up the animal in its sharp teeth, and . . .

  He didn’t want to think about what the guard-dragon had done, or what was left of the furry creature when it was over. Afterwards, he’d thrown up for nearly ten minutes. That night at dinner, he hadn’t been able to eat a thing.

  Now, he, Clyde, and Angus stood frozen in place, hoes held out before them as if the blunt tools would have the least impact on something as powerful as one of those killing machines. Ten feet away, the Ninki Nanka raised its snout, flicked its tongue, and fixed each of them with its glassy-eyed stare.

  Trenton didn’t know what he would do if the creature decided to attack. Even at a trot, the beast moved faster than he could sprint. If it really wanted to catch something, that something would be caught. The only reason they’d avoided being caught by one when they’d been trapped in the alley was because the dragon had been too fat to squeeze between the buildings. And then Leo had shown up.

  “Skat! Go find some rodent to eat,” a boy shouted from behind Trenton.

  He turned around and saw a tall, thin boy with dark hair that fell over his pale face, nearly down to his chin. The boy stepped in front of the Ninki Nanka and snapped his fingers.

  The Ninki Nanka bared its fangs and flicked its tongue. For a moment, Trenton thought the creature was going to attack. Then it shook its head, appeared to sneeze, and shuffled away.

  “How did you do that?” Clyde asked.

  “Trade secret,” the newcomer said with a grin.

  “Exactly what trade are you in?” Trenton asked. The boy’s skin wasn’t tanned from constant toil outside like the other farmworkers. And the black grease on his knuckles and under his fingernails was an even bigger giveaway. “Are you a mechanic? What are you doing out here?”

  The boy’s grin widened even more. “You’re sharp. I like that.” He studied the other workers, then dropped his voice. “Do you still want to kill dragons?”

  Angus scowled. “What are you, some kind of spy?”

  The stranger ignored him. “I hear you lost something. Three somethings to be exact. If you get them back, are you going to run away?”

  Trenton shook his head. “If we’d wanted to run away, we wouldn’t be here now. We’re trying to help the people of the city. Only, it turns out they don’t want our help.”

  “Some of them do,” the boy said.

  Trenton shook his head. He remembered trying to talk to the men who had “processed” him and his friends into the city and how they had laughed at him when he brought up the idea of rescue.

  In the distance, Garvin began heading in their direction.

  The boy spoke quickly. “Sometime today you’re going to meet with the monarch. I think you’ll be okay; you all look younger than me. Assuming you still want to fight after that meeting, and assuming those three machines of yours might help in the battle, I can help you get them back.”

  “The monarch?” Trenton asked. “And why does it matter if we’re younger than you?”

  But the boy was already walking away.

  “How do we know we can trust you?” Angus growled.

  “Because I’ve already kept you from being caught twice,” the boy said over his shoulder.

  Clyde started after him. “You didn’t tell us your name or how to—”

  His breath cut off with a grunt as Garvin’s heavy club hit his spine with a sickening crack. Clyde collapsed like a puppet whose strings had been cut. He lay on the ground, mouth gaping as he tried to suck air back into his lungs.

  Garvin, six feet two inches of solid muscle, was a good ten years older than Trenton and tanned almost to the color of tree bark from working in the sun all day. He looked down at Clyde and spat on the ground. “Catch you slacking on the job like that again and it will be your head next time.” He spun toward Trenton and Angus. “Who was that you were jawing with?”

  “None of your business,” Trenton growled. He started to help Clyde up, but Garvin stepped in front of him, a sadistic grin on his face.

  He twirled his club on its leather string. “You want some of this, too? Come and get it.”

  “I’ll take some,” Angus said. Before Garvin could turn, Angus knocked him across the arm with the handle of his hoe. The club fell from his grip, and his arm dropped limply to his side. Angus swung again, catching the man in the gut hard enough to drive the air of him.

  “Nobody picks on my friends,” Angus said as Garvin bent over, gasping.

  “Get . . . you,” Garvin grunted. His eyes went to his club lying several feet away.

  Angus grinned. “Go ahead and pick it up. As soon as you do, I’ll break your arm.”

  “You wouldn’t talk so big if you weren’t the only one holding a weapon,” Garvin said, slowly straightening.

  “Look who’s talking,” Trenton said. “You used your club on a kid half your size when he wasn’t even looking.”

  “Tell you what,” Angus said. “We’ll make it even.” He tossed his hoe aside. “In fact, just to be fair, I’ll only use one arm.”

  In a flash, Garvin leaped for his club. Angus stuck out a foot, and the man went sprawling to the ground. Angus stalked after him, every bit as deadly as one of the guard dragons.

  Abandoning his club, Garvin leaped to his feet. He feinted right, then threw a roundhouse punch with his left hand.

  Angus avoided the punch easily, jabbed an elbow into the man’s ribs, then smashed his fist into Garvin’s left shoulder.

  “Want to go for just feet?” Angus asked.

  Garvin shook his head, his hands hanging uselessly at his sides.

  “Good idea to stop while you can still walk.”

  Trenton felt sick to his stomach. “Did you really have to do that?” he asked Angus.

  Angus rolled his eyes. “A bully doesn’t stop until somebody makes them. Trust me, I should know.”

  While Trenton helped Clyde to his feet, Angus picked up his hoe. He glared at Garvin. “In case you’re thinking about coming for us later on, maybe with a couple of your friends, or telling anyone what happened here, know that I’ll be happy to teach you this same lesson again,” Angus said, tapping the wooden handle against one palm. “Any questions?”

  Garvin shook his head again, this time much more vigorously.

  The whirring of gears and clicking of mechanical legs came from behind them, and they all turned in time to see a quad racing toward them. This one used all
four legs for movement and had a broad metal shield on the front and a seat in the back. The man driving it was a city guard.

  “What’s going on here?” the guard demanded.

  “My friend had a little farming accident,” Angus said, gesturing to Clyde. “Our supervisor came to make sure he was okay.”

  “Is that true?” the guard asked.

  “Yes,” Clyde said, stifling a moan as he put his hand to his back.

  Trenton grabbed Clyde’s hoe and handed it to him.

  Angus gave Garvin a sharklike grin, and the man quickly nodded. “That’s how it happened all right.” Wincing, he bent down and barely managed to raise his arm enough to pick up his club.

  “Clumsy farmers,” the guard muttered. He shook his head. “Well, what are you waiting for? Get in.”

  Clyde wiped mud from his cheek. “Me? Get in that? With you?”

  “All three of you,” the guard snapped. “And be quick about it. You don’t want to be late.”

  “Late for what?” Trenton asked.

  The guard looked at him as if he was an idiot. “For your appointment, you slow-witted dirt-diggers. You’re meeting the monarch.”

  The monarch. Trenton didn’t know who that was, but he had a pretty good idea.

  The three of them quickly climbed into the backseat of the quad, and the guard set off, racing his quad across the field in jerking leaps and bounds, the machine smashing the tomato plants in the process.

  Holding on for dear life, Clyde turned to Angus. “Since when am I your friend?”

  Angus spat over the side of the quad as carelessly as if they were going to lunch. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

  Long before they reached their destination, Trenton knew where they were headed. The white tower stood over the city like a fang pushing up into the sky. Twelve rows of arched windows stretched from nearly the base of the building to the golden spire at the top, looking like a giant crown.

  People jumped aside as the quad charged along the wide, winding boulevard that led to the tower.

  “This is it,” Angus said, his words mostly covered by the clacking of the quad’s metal legs on the cobblestone street. “They’ll take us to the headman, and he’ll sentence us to death. Then they’ll chop off our heads and put them on the spikes of that golden crown.”

  “I always pictured a crown on my head, not the other way around,” Clyde said with a sickly smile.

  “They’re not going to execute us, and the monarch isn’t a man,” Trenton said. He hoped the first part was true, but he was sure of the second part. He thought back to the gleaming white dragon that had stared out of the tower at him the day they barely escaped from the city, and a fiery fist clenched in his belly. “It’s not even human.”

  As they neared the tower, he could see it was surrounded by a white stone wall that might have been marble or polished granite. Surrounding the wall was a circular courtyard with stones that sparkled in the sunlight. The guard stopped the quad just outside the courtyard. As Trenton looked down, he realized why. Each brick glimmered a deep yellow.

  Angus leaned out of his seat. “I think that’s real gold.”

  “Look,” Clyde said. “It’s the girls.”

  Before the boys had climbed out of their seats, Simoni and Plucky ran to the side of the vehicle, the two groups greeting each other as if it had been years instead of days.

  “How have you been?”

  “We were so worried about you.”

  “They wouldn’t let us see you.”

  Clyde groaned as he stepped down to the golden bricks.

  Plucky was immediately at his side. “If them bird-witted cullies laid a hand on you, I’ll—”

  “I’m fine.” Clyde wrapped his arms around Plucky. “It’s good to see you.”

  Plucky stared at Trenton over Clyde’s shoulder, her brown eyes wide. “Yeah, yeah,” she murmured before slowly raising her arms to hug him back.

  Simoni examined the backs of Angus’s hands, which were covered with scrapes and beginning to bruise. “Did the other guy get the worst of it?”

  Angus flexed his fingers. “Always.”

  Kallista stood slightly apart from the other girls. Trenton walked across the courtyard to join her. She looked across at the quad, which was turning to leave. “Where’s my father?” she asked quietly.

  Trenton shook his head. “I haven’t seen him since they took us in for processing.”

  She scowled as though she didn’t believe him. “You must see him at night in the dorm.”

  “He’s not in our building,” Trenton said. “I’ve checked every floor. I thought since you’re his daughter, they might have . . .”

  Kallista folded her arms tightly across her chest, cupping her elbows in her hands. “They told me I’d be allowed to see him, but they lied. Like they have about everything else.”

  Tension was thick between her and the other two girls. Trenton noticed that they were wearing different clothes. Kallista had on gray pants and a shirt similar to what he, Clyde, and Angus were wearing, while Simoni and Plucky wore white.

  “Is everything okay?”

  The muscles along the sides of Kallista’s jaws jumped. “Nothing is okay. We have to get out of here.”

  “I know,” Trenton said. “I’ve been searching for a way to leave the city, but the Ninki Nankas are everywhere.”

  Kallista shook her head. “We have to find a way to get our dragons.”

  “I know,” Trenton said again. “Hiding them on the island seemed like a good idea at the time, but maybe we should have left them somewhere more accessible.”

  “I don’t care if we have to swim.” She squeezed her fingers around her elbows until her knuckles turned white. “Have you listened to the people in this city? They want to be here. It’s like they think serving dragons is some big honor. They don’t even realize they are all slaves.”

  Deep chimes sounded, and the gates swung open. Kallista looked around one last time as the guards motioned them to come forward.

  “I’m sure he’s fine,” Trenton said, hoping that was the case. He tilted his head back to look at the tower as he walked through the gate. This close it was even more impressive. Fanci­ful designs ran up the outside walls, which were inset with silver and gold scrollwork. Gems bigger than his knuckles glimmered around the outside of each arched window. He estimated the tower was nearly five hundred feet from the base to the tip of the crown and wider across than ten men standing side-by-side with their arms outstretched.

  Plucky rubbed her hands together. “Like to do a snatch-and-grab on that, wouldn’t I now?”

  “Don’t even think about it,” Clyde whispered.

  There was a commotion back at the gate. When Trenton turned, he saw Kallista standing outside the entrance, her feet set wide as if daring anyone to try to move her.

  “The monarch awaits your presence. Now!” the larger of the two guards said.

  “I’m not going anywhere until I see my father.”

  The second guard lowered the tip of his spear. “Get in the tower.”

  Trenton ran back toward Kallista. “Maybe someone inside can tell us where he is.”

  She narrowed her eyes and set her feet more firmly.

  The big guard stepped toward her. “You will go to the monarch if I have to carry you.”

  “Go ahead.” Kallista balled her fists. “But I promise you won’t like it any better than I do.”

  Angus grinned as though enjoying the standoff, but Trenton knew that drawing attention to themselves wasn’t going to help their chances of escape. Just as the first guard handed his spear to the second and reached for Kallista, Leo Babbage came running out of the tower entrance.

  “It’s all right, Kallista. I’m here. I’m fine. They brought me in a few minutes ago. I’ve been waiting for you.” />
  Kallista ran to her father. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” he said.

  She looked him over carefully.

  “Really,” he said with a smile. “They’ve treated me surprisingly well.” Not only did he look well, he actually looked more excited than Trenton had ever seen him. Like Simoni and Plucky, he wore white pants and a shirt. But his shirt had a red sash running diagonally across his chest. Trenton wanted to ask what it meant, but Leo wouldn’t stop talking.

  “Have you seen the workings of that bridge of theirs?” he asked, waving his hands in the air. “It’s remarkable. And I had a chance to go under the mechanical walkways. An amazing feat of engineering, although I noticed right away how it could be improved.”

  “The monarch awaits you,” the guard told Leo in a much more respectful tone than he’d used before.

  “Yes, yes.” Kallista’s father walked through the entryway, twisting his head to look at the walls and ceiling. “Fascinating architecture.”

  Inside the tower, they took a sharp right, passing a plain metal door that looked out of place compared to the rest of the tower. A deep thrumming vibrated up through the floor. Trenton placed his hand on the door; he could feel it there, too. It had an odd rhythmic pattern to it: grum-rum-rum-bump, grum-rum-rum-bump.

  “What do you think that is?” he asked.

  “An engine, I would imagine,” Leo said. “Or perhaps a generator.”

  “Move along,” the guard said, nudging Trenton in the back with the shaft of his spear.

  “Where have you been?” Kallista asked her father, hurrying to keep up with him.

  “What did you say?” Leo turned his head to admire a metal air vent.

  Kallista grabbed his arm. “Trenton says you aren’t sleeping in his dorm.”

  “No. They gave me a house of my own.”

  A deep line creased the center of Kallista’s brow. “Why would they do that?”

  But Leo was already moving to examine a spiral brass staircase that ran up the side of one wall, reaching halfway to a hole in the ceiling. “What’s this?” he asked, kneeling to get a better look at the base.