by Sheila Grau
“Yeah, the dragon is coming,” she said, lowering her balaclava. Her face looked ashen, almost ghostly. “We’re all getting ready to leave this place.”
“I knew you wouldn’t leave me.”
“Yeah, right. Just give me the backpack.”
I didn’t say anything. I stood there with my jaw hanging open. One of the baby birds edged closer, and Syke punched it on the beak.
“Back off!” she yelled. She seemed shaky and on edge.
I spotted the black dragon heading for us. Syke opened her backpack and pulled out a harness that she threw on over her head.
“You have to give me the backpack,” she said.
“Syke, no,” I said, my voice cracking a little. “This is the only way I can stay at Critchlore’s. If I don’t save this for Murphy, he’ll fail me. And if I fail junior henchman class, Professor Zaida is taking me to the Great Library. I’ll be all alone there. Please.” How could she do this to me? “I know you’re mad about what I did. But can’t you remember the good stuff? That time we almost got caught spying on Dr. Frankenhammer and we had to hide in his storage cabinet? I saved you from that jelly-monster we thought was dead.”
“They’re going to take it from you when we land. It would be better if I had it.”
The dragon was approaching, and so was the gyrfalcon, ready to protect her babies. Screeches filled the air.
“Now or never,” Syke said, preparing her harness.
I handed her the bag. She stuffed it inside her own bag and helped me up. “We’ll only have a few seconds. The mother is coming fast.”
The dragon swooped down from above. The gyrfalcon was coming up to meet him. As soon as the dragon touched down on the edge of the nest, Syke jumped onto its back and clipped her harness to its sadle. I climbed up after her, just as the beast rose in the air. It turned to the gyrfalcon, blowing a blast of fire that forced the giant bird to stop its upward flight.
The dragon sped off for the hangar.
The icy wind was painful, and I turned my head to protect my face from the oncoming blast. Behind me I saw a dark sky filled with churning, heavy clouds.
We landed at the hangar, and the dragon rushed inside, where two transport dragons were being loaded with the Pravus team and its gear. Syke dismounted without looking at me. She strode over to the group and handed my bag of sudithium to Reythor, who looked smug. Then he turned to look behind him, where I noticed the Critchlore teams were sitting like criminals against the wall. Two Pravus trolls stood next to them, making sure nobody tried anything funny. Alasie sat next to Meztli, her white fur tinged with orange.
“We have it all now!” Reythor said loudly. “Ha!”
Professor Murphy glared at me and shook his head.
Hot anger flared up and consumed me. I had taken enough of Professor Murphy’s abuse, and I wasn’t going to take any more. I strode over to the group. “If you’re as smart as you pretend to be,” I said, “then you know this is not my fault. If Rufus and Jud hadn’t chased after me, the Pravus team wouldn’t know about the sudithium I found.”
“Again with the ‘I found’ bit,” Rufus said. “Give it up, Runt.”
“You know it, and I know it,” I said to him. Then I grabbed my chest, because it felt like I was in the grip of the gyrfalcon again. Maybe the bird had broken my ribs.
“I can’t breathe,” I said.
Rufus rolled his eyes, but Professor Murphy stood up. “Let me see your wrists.”
I held them out, and Professor Murphy examined them. The red marks hadn’t come back. Then he pressed on my ribs, which didn’t hurt at all, so broken ribs weren’t the issue.
“Mistress Moira warned me about this,” he said. “Take off your jacket.”
I took off my parka . . . and also my fleece jacket, my sweater, my thermal shirt, and my second thermal shirt. I stood in front of him in my Critchlore T-shirt.
Professor Murphy lifted it up. “Oh, no . . . it goes all the way around,” he said.
I looked down and saw a black band stretch across my chest.
I gasped as I realized what it was.
“My tether curse,” I said. “It’s come back. On my chest!”
Mistress Moira had told me that if I hadn’t returned from the Great Library as quickly as I had, those red bands on my wrist would have turned black and tightened. Now that was happening on my chest.
Professor Murphy said, “She told me to get you out of here at the first sign of the curse coming back. How have you not noticed this before now?”
Okay, this is a little embarrassing to admit.
Yes, I had been in the polar region for a week, and no, I hadn’t actually changed my shirt or showered that whole time. Hey, there are worse things a kid could do, right? I did brush my teeth once or twice. Wait, did I? I think I did. On second thought, did I even bring a toothbrush?
“I have to get back to school,” I said. “Now.”
Professor Murphy looked around. The Pravus team was almost packed up. He grabbed me by the wrist and dragged me over to their dragons. Two Pravus trolls blocked our approach.
“Reythor,” Professor Murphy called.
Reythor turned around but didn’t say anything.
“This boy has been cursed,” Professor Murphy went on. “He needs to get back to Stull as quickly as possible, or he’ll die. You’ve won the prize. Now please do the honorable thing and take him with you. Dr. Critchlore will reward you, I promise.”
Reythor smirked at us. “This is some sort of trick to steal the sudithium,” he said. “I will not take him.”
“Tell him, Syke!” I shouted, because she was standing right behind him. “Tell him I’m cursed, that I have to get back.”
She looked at me. I raised my shirt to show her the mark.
All eyes were on Syke. The entire Pravus team, the Critchlore kids, everyone. I begged her with my eyes. She looked around nervously, unsure of what to say.
“Syke, please,” I begged.
At last she shrugged. “He might be cursed,” she said. “Or it might be a trick. I really don’t know.”
And there it was: complete indifference.
She could have saved me, and then I’d have known that she really cared. She could have told Reythor it was a trick, and then I would’ve known it was out of anger. But no, she absolutely didn’t care one way or the other.
The look she gave me—a look that told me I was nothing to her—felt like Stevie’s fist around my chest, clenching tight. My best friend was turning her back on me in my moment of need, my moment of desperation. I felt crushed.
She looked straight at me. “He is tricky. He likes to sneak into places. He brags about it all the time.” She turned and boarded the dragon, patting the storage compartment on her way inside.
“I trust that one,” Reythor said, laughing. “No deal.” He turned and followed her, closing the door to the passenger cabin behind him.
With the Pravus team loaded up, the dragons were led to the hangar door. They were leaving.
“You there,” Professor Murphy called to a worker. “When’s the next dragon shuttle.”
“In this weather? We won’t be getting a return dragon for a few days.”
“I’ll be dead in a few days,” I said. “I can barely breathe right now.”
“You can really judge a person by how he or she reacts to impending doom.”
—100 THINGS ABOUT PEOPLE
I ran to get my parka, then took off after the dragons. They’d stopped near the hangar doors, which were opening slowly. I caught up and studied the luggage compartment door. I was sure I could pry it open, but then the dragon started edging backward. Something outside was startling it.
The wind howled, throwing ice and snow into the hangar. Even louder were the workers shouting orders at one another. Some of them abandoned their lines and ran off, as if Amaruq was coming for them.
Professor Murphy ducked under a dragon’s wing to reach the hangar doors, and I followed. The wind was incredibly fi
erce, snatching our voices and carrying them too far away to hear. With gestures, we managed to figure out what was happening.
The dragons were not going to fly through the storm. They wanted to go back inside where it was warm.
But the workers were shouting about something else. One of them pointed in the direction away from town. There, cresting a hill, was an army.
“What are those things?” Professor Murphy asked.
Alasie appeared beside me. “The white woman is back,” she said, cluthing my arm. “That’s her army of seal-men. They ride snow oxen. Those beasts can go through anything. They are so powerful, so huge. And look at that fur!” Even from afar, the snow oxen looked bigger than elephants, with thick coats of white fur all over their bodies.
And at the head of the group was the biggest snow ox, draped in royal livery, and riding it, a very regal figure.
“Irma Trackno,” I said.
The dragons hustled back inside the hangar. We waited, while the ground shook from the approaching army.
A small access door flew open, and ten seal-men rushed inside, their long pole weapons held in front of them. They walked like men but had gray rubbery skin and faces with long noses and whiskers.
“Everyone down!” they shouted.
Everyone obeyed.
And then Irma Trackno entered, brushing the snow off her white hood, removing her white balaclava, and shaking out her white hair. She surveyed the scene.
“I want those transport dragons searched,” she said. “Nobody is leaving here with sudithium. Nobody. Anyone in possession of sudithium will be arrested and charged with theft of our natural resources.”
She pulled off her gloves and strode toward the glass-fronted offices that stretched down one side of the hangar. She entered the biggest one.
The Pravus team had disembarked, and Professor Murphy threw a smug look in Reythor’s direction. The man had paled significantly since the arrival of Her Greatness.
“If you’d shared, maybe you’d have some friendly company in jail,” Professor Murphy said. “Too bad for you.”
Professor Murphy then grabbed my arm and dragged me over to Irma’s office, where two seal-men stood guard.
“I’d like a word with your Great and Wonderful Leader,” he said. “It’s a matter of life and death.”
One of the seal-men guards turned his head toward the office. The door stood open, and I was sure that Irma Trackno had heard Professor Murphy. We could see her through the glass wall, sitting behind a conference table, giving orders to her men.
“It’s fine—send them in,” Irma called out. She turned to one of her guards. “Get the oxen to safety in the cove. The storm is going to be big.” She looked at us as we entered. “What do you want?”
“Runt, show her your mark,” Professor Murphy said. “This boy has a tether curse. I need to get him back to Stull or he’ll die. Dr. Critchlore will be very angry if this boy does not return safely.”
She smiled. “Do you think I care how Dr. Critchlore feels?”
“You should,” Professor Murphy replied. “He could be a powerful ally for you. And a worse enemy, if anything should happen to this boy.”
This was strange. Professor Murphy was talking like he actually cared about me.
Irma tilted her head and looked at me. “I remember you,” she said, waving an index finger in the air. “Oh, yes, I spoke with you in the capital. You get around, don’t you?”
I shrugged.
“Let me see that curse.”
I lifted my shirt, and she studied me carefully for a moment. “Fascinating. I haven’t seen a curse like that in . . . years. Someone wants you dead. Whatever have you been up to?”
I shrugged again. “I’ve lived at Dr. Critchlore’s school as long as I can remember.”
“Well, you’re going to die here, I’m afraid,” she said. “Nobody is getting out until the storm passes. And if I’m not mistaken, it looks like you’ve got less than twenty-four hours. Tough luck, kid.”
She turned to one of her men. “Where’s the coffee? Why wasn’t it here already? I will not tolerate subordinates who fail to anticipate my needs.”
“Yes, Your Amazingness.” The seal-man left in a hurry.
Two other seal-men dragged Reythor into the office.
“This one’s in charge,” one of them said. “And we found this on their dragon.” He dropped the three bags of sudithium on the table.
Irma smiled. “I knew it,” she said. “I knew these villagers were hiding it. And I knew if I started letting search teams in, sooner or later someone would find it—or the locals here would just give it to me to keep people out again.”
She was quite pleased with herself.
Back in the hangar we huddled in groups, the Pravus team near the baggage claim area, and us at the opposite end.
The seal-men stood guard around us.
Darthin, Frankie, and Meztli sat next to me, not knowing what to say.
I felt shock but also anger. It wasn’t fair. I’d known I was cursed to die for months now, but I guess I never believed it.
Until now.
“I have twenty-four hours,” I said, again. “Twenty-four hours. Twenty-four hours.”
Living requires hope. I’d had hope before. Hope that the tether had been defeated and I could live a long and happy life in some remote corner of the continent, maybe in the Forgotten Realm. At the very least, I thought I’d have more time to find the curser.
“There’s no hope left,” I mumbled.
“You don’t know that,” Darthin said. “Why, right this minute Mistress Moira might be finding the witch. Right this minute, the witch might be removing the curse.”
I shook my head because my chest was telling me otherwise. I couldn’t take a deep breath—I could feel my lungs aching for a giant inhale of oxygen, but all I could manage were short, quick breaths.
Darthin looked to Alasie. “Is there any other way out of here?”
She thought about this, then looked at Meztli and Frankie. “Come with me.”
They left. I felt dizzy. “I need to do something,” I said. “Darthin, can I borrow your notebook? A pen?”
He opened his bag and handed it to me. I wrote a quick note of thanks to Cook, telling her that I loved her, that she was a fantastic mother. I wrote notes to my friends, telling them how much I appreciated their support and how I knew they were all going to do great things. Finally, I wrote a note to Tootles, telling him not to give up on Syke.
“How can you say that?” Darthin said, reading over my shoulder. “She would have let you die.”
“No, she was going to save me,” I said. “She propped open the luggage hatch so I could sneak on. She pretty much told me so when she mentioned I liked to sneak into places. I hate sneaking into places, and she knows that.”
“So why did she say she wasn’t sure about your curse, then?”
“Because she’s smart. Think about it. If she’s trying to prove she’s trustworthy to them, being unsure is the only answer that is one hundred percent believable. If she’d said, ‘Yes, he’s cursed,’ then Reythor might think she was trying to save me. If she’d said, ‘No,’ then Reythor might think she was trying too hard to prove she was with them. The only honest answer was the one she gave—‘I don’t know.’”
Darthin shrugged, not really buying it.
And then I wrote my last note, to Dr. Critchlore. I thanked him for taking me in when I’d been left at the gate. And then I told him that I was sorry for failing him, for failing to bring back the sudithium.
But I realized that there was something I could do to help him. What did I have to lose? If Irma had allowed us to come here in order to see the Pravus team go up against us, I was going to put her straight. I owed it to Dr. Critchlore.
I hurried over to her office. I could see through the glass wall that she was examining the sudithium rocks.
“I’d like to talk to Her Wonderfulness,” I told the guard.
&nbs
p; The guard turned to Irma Trackno.
She shrugged, so I went in.
“Lucky for you, I’m a bit bored right now. Something on your mind?”
“I just want you to know that if you think Dr. Pravus is a better trainer of minions than Dr. Critchlore, you’re wrong.”
She smiled. “It seems that I have evidence to the contrary.” She motioned to the bags on her desk. “You were both after this resource, and yet they were the ones in possession of it.”
“But they wouldn’t have gotten it without us,” I said. “They needed us. We didn’t need them. I found the sudithium.”
She was silent. Her stare made me really nervous.
“If you’re looking for minions,” I said, “you’d be a fool to pick Pravus over Critchlore. It would be like picking someone who cheated on a test instead of the person he cheated off of. Once a cheater is on his own, he’s useless.”
“That’s very loyal of you,” she said. “I have to admit, your plea does throw a wrench in my plans. Everything I’ve heard about Critchlore leads me to believe that that loyalty doesn’t flow both ways.”
“He may act tough and aloof,” I said. “But I know it’s an act.”
“No, it’s not,” she said, shaking her head. “The man has abandonment issues. Keeping people at arm’s length is how he keeps himself from being hurt.”
“What?” I asked. “Who abandoned him?”
“I did. I’m his mother.”
“Irma Trackno will do anything, sacrifice everything and everyone around her, to achieve her goal of reuniting Upper and Lower Worb with herself as ruler.”
—FROM THE UNAUTHORIZED BIOGRAPHY OF IRMA TRACKNO
I laughed, but quickly realized that this was the wrong response when I felt the full power of the scowl that Irma Trackno leveled in my direction.
“I’m sorry, it’s just that—” I didn’t know what to say. I was shocked. The Great and Powerful Irma Trackno was Dr. Critchlore’s mother?
Impossible.
She smiled at me. “I know, I don’t look old enough to be his mother. But it’s true.” She stood up and gazed out a small window. “I married young, before I realized my true ambitions. My husband was much older and settled in his ways. Soon it became apparent that we had different interests. He enjoyed the quiet life of an estate owner; I was more interested in world domination. I divorced him and married Wedgemont Trackno, Titan of the North.”
