Bitterwood

by James Maxey

  “Oh,” the man said. He scratched his head, looking confused. “So… I’m not Bitterwood?”

  “No, silly.”

  “Huh,” he said. “Then I’m at a bit of a disadvantage. I must have forgot my name. Why don’t you just call me… Hey You.”

  “Hey You?”

  “Hey, for short. Mr. You if you’re feeling formal.”

  “Okay, You.”

  “That’s Mr. You to you,” he said.

  “You’re silly,” Zeeky said. “I like you.”

  Mr. You’s lips bent slightly upward into an expression not quite a smile. “Thank you,” he said. “Not many people like me.”

  “Maybe if you didn’t scare little girls in barns, people would think you were nicer,” she said.

  “Could be,” he said. “I don’t normally try to scare anyone. It just happens.”

  “Maybe you need somebody to hang out with you and give you advice on not scaring people.”

  “Like a little girl?” Hey You said. Then, his partial smile faded. He nodded as he said, softly, “You might be onto something. People did like me more when I had a little girl. I had two of them, actually, a long time ago.”

  “Did something happen to them?”

  He looked down into the straw and mumbled, “Yes.” Then he took a deep breath and said, “Enough chit chat. If you want, you can stretch out on my cloak and I’ll sleep on one of them straw bales. We gotta get up before dawn if we want to avoid being caught.”

  “Okay.” Zeeky didn’t need much convincing. She stretched out on his cloak, which was soft and smelled of smoke, and within less than a minute was drifting to sleep, dreaming of dragon castles, barely hearing the dog frantically barking in the distance.

  JANDRA STEPPED FROM her sandals so that she would be able to climb more easily. The window had been built to allow a sun-dragon to stand comfortably at it and look out. She could just barely reach the bottom edge of the window if she jumped. She was used to navigating furniture and rooms scaled for beings twice her height. One advantage of the lifestyle was that it had made her a good jumper and a great climber. She pulled herself into the window, the highest in the castle, and looked out over the surrounding farmland. The moonlight bleached the night of all color, but still she could see the rectangular patchwork of farms, the wide river beyond and, far in the distance, the long ridge of mountains that bordered the rich valley.

  The houses below looked idyllic. She wondered what it would have been like to have been raised in a normal house rather than a castle tower. She knew that Ruth or Mary would have thought she was crazy. They would have given anything for a taste of her life of privilege and comfort. But tonight she would rather be in one of those small farmhouses than here in the abode of dragons.

  Sitting in the window, the cool night air playing against her hair, she remembered her last flight with Vendevorex. It seemed so natural to soar above the earth. She dreamed of flying almost every night. It wasn’t fair that humans were forever earthbound. If she could fly on her own she would never touch ground.

  “A lovely night, fair Jandra.Made all the lovelier by your presence.”

  Jandra looked back. Pet was behind her, standing on the stairs that entered the tower chamber. He still wore his dinner finery: black pants and boots, a green silk shirt that matched his eyes with a necklace of gold and emeralds. She missed her old wardrobe, all the elaborate headdresses and gowns, now forever lost, she supposed. Having fled with only the clothes on her back, Vendevorex had used his abilities to create a simple cotton blouse and skirt for her. They were nicely crafted and fit her well, but compared to Pet, she may as well have been dressed in burlap rags.

  “You look sad,” Pet said. “Is something bothering you?”

  “It’s nothing,” she said. She noted the ease with which he’d read the emotions on her face. Why couldn’t Vendevorex be as tuned to her feelings as this stranger? “I just felt like looking at the moon.”

  “So I’m not intruding?” Pet asked.

  “This is your home,” she said, turning her face away. “I suppose you can go wherever you want.”

  “You look as if you wish to be alone,” Pet said. “I wouldn’t want to be where I’m not wanted. If you want me to go away, I will.”

  “Thank you,” Jandra said.

  “But before I go,” Pet said, “I want you to know I understand.”

  “Understand what?”

  “Your sorrow. Your loneliness,” he said in his soothing, lyrical voice. “Sometimes, when we feel the greatest need to be alone, it’s the moment we should most welcome the company of others.”

  Jandra supposed he meant the words to come across as wise. But they struck her instead as unsolicited advice. She got enough of that from Vendevorex. “You presume much, Pet.”

  “Do I? In your eyes, I caught a glimpse of the turmoil in your soul. You’re all alone. I know your master doesn’t understand. He can’t.”

  Jandra frowned. “Vendevorex isn’t my master. He’s my… teacher.”

  “But he’s not human. He’ll never be sensitive to your needs.”

  Jandra shifted in the window, turning her full back to him. “I thought you said you would leave.”

  “You haven’t actually asked me to leave. I believe I know why.”

  “Oh?”

  “You look out into the moonlight and it haunts you. You’re a human living among dragons. You will never be recognized as an equal to the dragons, but neither will you ever be at home among mankind.”

  Jandra didn’t want to let him know how right he was. She remained silent, staring into the night. Her gaze fixed on the farthest fields, her eyes drawn to movement, a large mass creeping along the river. A herd of cattle, perhaps. Did cattle come out at night? She turned away from the view to study Pet once more. His eyes continued to look right through her. Was she really so transparent?

  She didn’t want to discuss her feelings with him, so she changed the subject. “Is Pet your real name?”

  “No. My true name is Petar Gondwell. But Chakthalla prefers to call me Pet.”

  “Why do you let her?”

  “Why not? It makes her happy.”

  “But don’t you want your own identity? Don’t you want what makes you happy?”

  “Making Chakthalla happy makes me happy.”

  Jandra felt a little ill hearing this, thinking of how she enjoyed pleasing Vendevorex when she did well with her lessons.

  “You don’t like my being Chakthalla’s pet,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone. “It makes you question your servitude to Vendevorex.”

  He is perceptive, thought Jandra.

  “You dislike the idea that people are owned by dragons,” Pet ventured. “You want your freedom.”

  “I have my freedom,” Jandra said. “Vendevorex doesn’t own me. He’s just… my mentor. My parents died when their house burned down. He’s raised me but he doesn’t own me.”

  “Ah. If you are free then you can leave his service at anytime.”

  “I suppose. But…”

  “But?”

  “I don’t know where I would go.”

  “Ah.” Pet nodded. “That is a problem, isn’t it? He has you bound by ignorance of the world. This shackles you far more effectively than iron.”

  Jandra thought about Vendevorex’s revelation of lands beyond the kingdom. Had he kept her in the dark to limit her possibilities? Who knew what lay beyond the mountains? Perhaps there were places where humans ruled dragons. That would certainly explain his reluctance to discuss them.

  “I won’t say that Vendevorex has me in shackles,” she said. “But it bothers me the way he’s always keeping quiet about his plans. He just announces our next move and expects me to follow. He never consults me.”

  “It’s the way of dragons,” said Pet. “They can never consider humans as equals. Asking a human for advice is as absurd to them as us asking a dog what the weather will be like.”

  Jandra nodded. “I must admit,
you surprise me. You seemed so subservient to Chakthalla. I just assumed you let her do all your thinking for you.”

  “I make her think she does all my thinking for me. In truth, I’m the sole master of my fate, fair Jandra. Humans are dealt a very bad hand. In the villages, men struggle to survive. Some become comfortable but none may become wealthy. The only humans to gain a semblance of power are the prophets that seem to grow like mushrooms after floods and plagues. But what do prophets do with their prestige? Wage war against the non-believers in the next village who are following their own prophet. In the end, there is little profit in prophecy.”

  “No,” she said. “I suppose not.”

  “But to live among dragons is a far different fate,” Pet said. “As a favorite of a dragon I am showered with jewels. I sleep on sheets of silk; I drink from cups of gold. All Chakthalla asks in exchange are a few tricks and a sympathetic ear.”

  “It sounds attractive when you put it that way,” Jandra said. “But still, to be a pet… Have you no pride?”

  “I take pride in a job well done,” Pet said with a slight bow. “I’m an actor, a singer, an acrobat, a poet, a master of diverse arts and talents. I think of Chakthalla as my patron rather than my keeper.”

  “But Chakthalla owns you,” Jandra said. “You don’t have freedom.”

  He shrugged. “A vastly overrated commodity. Do I want the freedom to be poor? Do I want the freedom to tear my food from the hard earth, to struggle daily to endure? No. This way is better. As Petar I could pursue nothing but daily toil. As Pet I can pursue the finer things in life. Beautiful women such as yourself, for instance, are found only in the courts of dragons.”

  “Please,” Jandra said, rolling her eyes. “I’m not beautiful.”

  “Oh dear. He doesn’t tell you, does he?”

  “Doesn’t tell me what?”

  “Vendevorex never tells you how lovely you are.”

  Jandra lowered her head. “No. He doesn’t.”

  “Dragons know nothing of human hearts. The loveliest woman never sees her own beauty with her eyes until she sees it with her heart.”

  Jandra sat quietly, contemplating his words. Beautiful? Pet was beautiful. Bodiel had been beautiful. She was just plain. Wasn’t she? She felt slightly dizzy at the possibility.

  “I think,” she said, “I should go back to my chambers.”

  “Why?” Pet asked.

  “I’m tired,” she said though she wasn’t. She was nervous for reasons she didn’t quite understand, but she couldn’t tell him that. “It’s been a long day.”

  “Vendevorex will expect you to sleep in his quarters?” Pet asked.

  “I suppose,” she said. “I normally do.”

  “Do you always do what he wants you to do?”

  “I don’t sleep there because he wants me to. I sleep there because we’re on the run. Where else am I to sleep?”

  “My chambers. I have the most wonderful bed. The moment your body touches it, I guarantee you will be in ecstasy.”

  “Oh,” she said. “I, um…”

  “There are many areas in which a person may be shackled by a lack of knowledge,” Pet said slyly. “I have a key. I can teach you many things. Open doors to worlds you haven’t even dreamed of.”

  Pet’s gaze met hers and held it for a long moment. She found his stare most unsettling.

  “I should… should go now,” she said. Yet her body didn’t seem to agree. It remained frozen on the window ledge, her lips parted, her eyes fixed on his deep emerald eyes. With effort, she turned away, looking back over the fields. The moving mass she had seen in the distance was much closer now, practically at the castle walls. It no longer looked like a herd of cattle. What was going on? Then she noticed a score of lights in the sky, moving more erratically than stars. She focused upon them and could see the dark shapes of sky-dragons above. They swooped closer and she saw that the lights came from small iron pots dangling from chains.

  “Oh no,” she said.

  She spun around and jumped from the window. She landed, to her surprise, in Pet’s arms. He lowered her to her feet, his face only inches from her own. Then, without warning, he lowered his lips to hers. She’d never been kissed before. She stood there, stunned, all but paralyzed with the shock of it. He smelled wonderful. Pet wrapped his arms around her. She noticed how well her body fit against his. Could this really be happening?

  A voice in the back of her head kept yelling that she had more important things to attend to at the moment, and at last she listened to this voice. She summoned the strength to push Pet away.

  “There isn’t time for this! I’ve got to get to Vendevorex!” she said.

  “That’s your fear speaking, fair one,” he said, his voice a gentle coo. “It’s not the voice of your heart.”

  “No! You don’t understand!”

  Pet grabbed her by the arms and kissed her again. She struggled but his strength was far greater that hers. This time it wasn’t even mildly pleasant. She beat at his back with her clenched fists.

  At last he broke the kiss, pushing her away, but not letting go of her arms, “I apologize. Your beauty has caused me to lose all caution. I’ve pushed you too far, too fast. You’re scared. You’re young, confused by the stirrings in your body, confused by the burning in your soul.”

  “It’s not my soul I’m worried about!” she snapped, but her words were drowned by the beating of wings. Light bright as day flashed through the window. A burning cauldron crashed against the far wall then clattered as it bounced around the room, throwing flames in all directions.

  CHAPTER TEN: WAR

  THE FLAMES SPREAD across the far wall as the iron pot rolled to rest. A river of flames spilled down the steps, cutting off their exit. The stone stairs hissed and popped as the flames ate at them.

  “Don’t breathe the smoke!” Jandra shouted, grabbing Pet’s arm and pulling away from the flames. “It’s poisonous!”

  “It’s burning the rocks in the walls!” Pet yelped.

  “It’s called the Vengeance of the Ancestors,” Jandra said, letting go of Pet. She studied her surroundings. “It burns rock, wood, even water. Everything but iron.” The only way out was the window. She leapt up to grab the ledge then scrambled quickly up the rough stone. Once perched in the window she leaned down and extended a hand to Pet.

  “How do you know about this?” Pet asked, taking her hand.

  “Vendevorex invented it,” Jandra said as she helped Pet climb onto the ledge next to her. “At least the wind is blowing in our favor. We’ll be safe from the smoke in here. You know this castle better than me. Isn’t there another window below us? Maybe twenty feet?”

  “Y-yes,” he said, not taking his eyes from the flames.

  Jandra studied the flames as well, trying to guess how much time they had. The Vengeance burned thoroughly but it burned slowly when dense materials like stone were its fuel. Even though it had splashed over half of the room, it would take a long time to spread to this wall. Unfortunately, the Vengeance had ignited the wooden roof beams that now burned with conventional flames. The breeze from the open window that kept the worst of the smoke away also fueled the fire that devoured the beams. The thick wooden shafts supported the tall, thin metal spires that topped the towers. It wouldn’t take long before it all collapsed on top of them.

  Outside the window Jandra could see other fires burning across the castle. The dark shapes of sky-dragons swooped and glided among the rising smoke. She looked down. To her relief, no flames were directly below them.

  “Take off your shirt, Pet,” she said.

  The panicked look vanished from Pet’s face. He raised an eyebrow as he asked, “If we’re going to die, you want to die in a passionate embrace?” He gave a confident grin as he began unlacing his shirt. His fingers flew with well-practiced speed.

  “You really have a one track mind, don’t you?” Jandra said. “Silk is very strong. It will make a good rope.”

  “My shirt isn’t l
ong enough to reach the lower window,” Pet said, sounding a bit disappointed.

  “It will be,” Jandra said, taking the shirt from him the instant he pulled it over his head.

  She dipped her fingers into the small pouch of silver dust she carried on her belt. She carefully closed her right hand around the sleeve of his shirt then closed her eyes, so as not to be distracted by the flame. With her left hand she pulled the small tuft of silk she had left showing and began to pull it from her hand. Instead of the shirtsleeve, a silk cord as thick as her pinky emerged from her grasp. Pulling more rapidly, she soon ran the entire shirt through her right hand, leaving her with thirty feet of coiled silken rope.

  “Good trick,” said Pet, nodding appreciatively.

  “It’s not a trick,” Jandra said. “What you did with the apple… that was a trick. This is something much more complex. I’ve been studying with Vendevorex all my life. He’s teaching me how to reconfigure the basic building blocks of matter.” Jandra stood up on the wide windowsill. She reached up, tying the rope around the roof beam that extended outside the tower. She dropped the rope. The end dangled just below the lower window.

  “Okay,” she said, “Let’s—”

  She was cut short by a horrendous creaking. She looked into the room and saw that Vengeance had climbed the far wall and cut into the copper plates that formed the roof. She yelled, “Don’t breathe!”

  But it was too late. A large copper plate twisted free and fell into the room amidst the Vengeance of the Ancestors, sending large billows of smoke toward them. Jandra tried to inhale one last breath of clean air in the instant before it reached them. Instead, her lungs filled with the awful smell of phosphorous and sulfur. Her lungs felt full of needles as she began to cough uncontrollably. Dark spots danced before her eyes as her strength failed. She was vaguely aware of her feet slipping from the ledge as she tumbled backward into the night air.

  “WHAT’S HAPPENING?” ZEEKY mumbled as Poocher’s squeals awakened her.

  “Sorry to disturb you,” Hey You said as he lifted her in his arms and set her onto the straw. “I need my cloak. There’s work to be done.”