Lost in Averell

by Tara Grayce

  “Amy, what’s going on?” Brett probably recognized his own name, even said with an Averellian inflection. After all, names don’t exactly get translated too much.

  “I’ll explain in a minute. Sorry.” I turn back to the dragon girl and raise my eyebrows.

  For several ticks of my Averellian internal clock, she stares back, shoulders back, eyes glowing like she wants to spit fire at me. Finally, she cocks one eyebrow back at me.

  “I’m Herockghryrra.” The end of her name comes out in a growl no one but a dragon can pronounce. “I’m the daughter of the Flame of the Dragons.”

  Now that she’s said her name, her face clicks in my memory. I’ve only met her briefly on a few occasions before, and that was usually from a distance.

  Something inside my chest goes cold. There are so many implications, so much to take in, that I have to grip the bars of my cell tighter to keep myself standing.

  The daughter of the Flame of the Dragons is here. In a dungeon. That means the Flame will be angry. Will she blame my dad and the unicorns for her daughter’s disappearance? It won’t look good, that Herockghryrra disappeared in the middle of the negotiations between the dragons and unicorns.

  Dragons may have a lot of restraint, but if they become angry, bad things happen. They tend to set things on fire and ask questions later. That’s partially how the war began twenty years ago. The dragons disagreed over how to deal with the unicorns, and next thing anyone knew, the dragons were having a civil war and both sides were lashing out at all the other races in Averell, especially the unicorns and silvarans, until everyone was at war.

  If my dad is caught in the open while searching for me...if the dragons attack the castle while a large part of the army is off wandering the hills looking for Trygg, Brett, and me...if the unicorns are scattered trying to help Dad...there are so many bad scenarios I can’t even process how to panic for all of them.

  The treaty my mom and dad have been working so hard this week to put together is going to fall apart. Has probably already fallen apart as I stand here.

  I still, my fingers freezing like ice to the cell bars. It isn’t random that Brett, Trygg, and I are here. We weren’t just snatched because we happened to be an easy target. We are here because whoever controlled that pack of evil farffles knows who we are. Knows our connection to the king of the silvarans and the Stallion of the unicorns. Neither of us is the next in line, but that makes us easier to snatch than my older brothers or Trygg’s cousins.

  Whoever this mysterious person is, he or she has a big plan with a goal that can’t be good for any of our parents and relatives, the dragon girl’s mom included.

  “Were you taken by a pack of farffles too? How long ago? From where?” I hold my breath that Herockghyrra will answer. Dragons aren’t always the most cooperative.

  Herockghyrra glares at me through the bars of her cell.

  I sigh. “Look, I know silvarans and dragons haven’t always gotten along. But that war was over twenty years ago. Our two peoples have made great strides recently. Besides, it isn’t like we are at fault for your abduction. We’re down here too, remember?”

  I’m not sure if it is my logic or the hint of sarcasm there at the end that gets to her, but her shoulders relax and her glare stops looking like she is trying to roast me from across the dungeon.

  “Yesterday morning. I had just watched Mother fly away with the other diplomats for yet another day of negotiations when I was surprised by those farffles. I roasted and ate a few of them, but there were too many, and they managed to get this chain around my leg. When I woke up, I found myself here in this form.”

  When had the Flame of the Dragon noticed Herockghyrra missing? How angry had she become?

  Did Dad even get a chance to send out a search party for Brett and me? Or has he been too busy trying to keep the dragons and unicorns from turning on each other and the rest of Averell?

  If Trygg and I hadn’t been in ogre country searching for Brett, would we have been snatched then too? It isn’t uncommon for me to hang out with Trygg on long days when Mom and Dad are in negotiations and I’m not in school or hanging out with Erin over in Michigan.

  In the end, the farffles still got us. A day later than the mastermind behind this plot had planned, but it was just our misfortune that we happened to stumble across the farffles as they were returning to wherever this dungeon is.

  Brett, of course, hadn’t been a part of the plan. He was just taken because he happened to be with us. He isn’t even a part of this realm. Yet, here he is, stuck in the same dungeon we are, facing the same danger, whatever it is.

  So much for getting him back to Michigan in time for school on Monday. I really hope Erin got that proposal all put together without our help. Our whole grade might have to depend on her.

  Not that I should be too terribly worried about grades while locked in a dungeon. But, honestly, worrying about grades is much less scary than contemplating our situation here.

  I swallow. “Do you know who has us? And where we are?”

  “I don’t know, for certain.” Herockghyrra cocks her head and arches a brow. “But surely you can guess. How many other mysterious, abandoned castles are there in Averell?”

  At that, I get all cold once again. What other castle, indeed?

  I open my mouth, but I can’t say the name out loud.

  Trygg beats me to it. “Eekrok Castle.”

  Eekrok Castle. It had once been a magnificent castle. A second home for the Averellian royalty.

  But over twenty years ago, the magician Bircra Larrona had taken it over with her dragon allies. In the war that followed, much of the castle and the surrounding forest had burned. Only a single tower had been left standing in a wasteland so destroyed that even today nothing grows.

  But who...I still as I remember the discussion over that banquet. It seems so long ago, even though it has only been a few days. The Stallion had mentioned sightings of Melltra Larrona, the daughter of the rebelling Bircra and her dragon consort Fyrrgoghrr. She had disappeared after the war. There are always rumors, of course, of what had happened to her. In the wake of the war and the long peace that followed, no one seemed to care.

  But if she is behind this, everyone will have good reason to care.

  “Is Melltra behind this?”

  “I suspect so, though I haven’t seen her yet. All I’ve seen are her farffles and two brutish men when they brought the three of you here.” Herockghyrra rolls her shoulders in something that might have been a shrug if she was the type to indulge in such a low, peasant gesture. “But whoever is behind this has powerful magic.”

  “What makes you say that?” I glance around the dungeon as if I can spot what caused Herockghyrra to come to her conclusion.

  She sniffs again. “You wouldn’t know, being silvaran.”

  In the cell next to hers, Trygg leans his head against the bars. I’ve never seen his face crumple like that, his mouth flat without even a hint of a smile. “What she means is that these chains have a strong enchantment on them. I can’t change into my unicorn form, and I assume she can’t change into a dragon.”

  I sag against the door. We are truly in trouble.

  Chapter 12

  We Face Minor Problems, Such As Death

  “Amy. What is it? What’s going on?” Brett must have seen something on Trygg’s face and heard the tone in his voice, even if he couldn’t understand the words.

  Now is as good a time as any to explain to Brett. I repeat a short version of what Herockghyrra told us and what we guess is going on. I end with my big confession. “And, well, I didn’t mention it before, but I’m kind of a princess here. My dad is the king of the silvarans.”

  I hold my breath, waiting for his reaction.

  “You’re a princess.” His words are slow, as if he is trying to make the title fit me.

  “I’m still me. And I’m only a princess over here in Averell. I’m just plain Amy Corin over in Michigan.” I keep going, not real
ly wanting to hear his reaction. This would change everything between us. “I’m sorry. You got captured because you were with me. Melltra is targeting young people related to Averellian leaders.”

  “I see. You being a princess explains a lot. I wondered how you could be so sure your dad would be able to scour Averell looking for you.” Brett’s voice is soft. “It’s okay, Amy. Maybe I will freak out later, but right now, I think getting mauled by venomous rabbits took the edge off my shock.”

  “Just don’t freak out ever, okay? It would be a little hard to explain to everyone at school if you suddenly start bowing to me.” I grimace. I am not looking forward to facing Brett back in Michigan. He isn’t going to see me as a normal high school girl ever again.

  “So Trygg can’t turn into a unicorn? What happens if I can’t get any more unicorn horn powder? Will I get sick again?” Brett’s voice tightens on the last question.

  I’m so cold with all the dangers hitting me it takes me a few seconds to process it.

  We can’t get any more unicorn horn powder. Brett won’t be able to eat or drink anything. He’ll get sick and weak again. And if we don’t escape soon...Brett will die.

  I haven’t told him the true danger he’d been in earlier. There hasn’t been a need, since we had Trygg as a unicorn and it was only going to be a few hours until we got him out of Averell.

  But I can’t hide the truth from Brett now. He deserves to know the full truth and be able to face it.

  “Brett, there’s something...” I swallow and take a deep breath. “Yes, you’re going to get sick. And you can’t eat any of the food or drink anything they give you. It will just make you sicker without the unicorn powder.”

  “Well, I’ve heard prison food isn’t great. I won’t be missing much.” Brett has a hitch to his voice like he’s trying to make a joke out of it.

  If only I could joke about this. If only that were the worst of Brett’s problems. After all, the rest of us probably shouldn’t eat or drink what we’re given either. Not until we know better what is going on. But, Brett...Brett could die even before Melltra has a chance to kill him or us.

  “You’ll do worse than that.” I lean against the door. “There’s something I didn’t explain before when I told you that you aren’t fully compatible with Averell because you are from Earth. It...the effects of being away from Earth and in Averell get worse over time. Unicorn horn powder can help you eat food and extend the time you can be here, but even with it, you will still have problems. The problems just happen sooner without.”

  “What sort of problems?”

  Death.

  I can’t make myself say it as starkly as that. “You remember how your clothes fell apart? They just disintegrated. That’s what’s happening to you. It has been slowed down because of the unicorn horn powder you ingested that helped your body adjust somewhat to Averell, but unless you return to Earth, you’ll...”

  “Die.” Brett finishes for me.

  “Yeah. Die.” I rub my hands together, my skin tingling from gripping the cold, iron bars. “My mom can stay for a while in Averell, but she consumes a lot of unicorn horn powder, and her body has adjusted somewhat to Averell. This is your first time here. You don’t have a lot of time before you need to get back to Earth.”

  Brett drags in a shaky breath. “Okay. So, I’m going to die. We’re locked in a dungeon. We’re all in danger of dying from this Melltra person, if she’s the person who has locked us up. We’re all going to die at this rate.”

  “Maybe, but the rest of us can afford to take our time to come up with an escape plan. We can wait for rescue. We have options. You don’t. You could die even without Melltra ever laying a finger on you.” I squeeze my eyes shut. What am I going to do? I thought I could solve everything. I thought I could fix it before Brett’s presence caused problems in Averell. Instead, everything is such a mess I don’t know how to fix it.

  “We have to escape. If what you think is true, then we had better escape soon if you don’t want all of your parents to go to war with each other, right?”

  “Right.” Escape. That’s what I have to concentrate on. We can’t just sit here waiting for whoever captured us to make their move. We have to get out of here before the Flame’s anger over her missing daughter causes another war.

  “Would it help if I mentioned I know something about picking locks?” Brett sounds almost cheerful.

  Oh, right. He’d mentioned it what felt like years ago when we were planning our trebuchet. “Of course that helps!” I pull myself straighter and press against the bars. I still can’t see Brett since he’s in the cell next to mine. “Pick the lock and let’s get out of here.”

  “It’s not quite that simple.” Brett has to raise his voice. Across the dungeon, Trygg and Herockghyrra are arguing. I don’t bother trying to listen in. Brett clears his throat. “I just know the basics. I bought a lock picking kit off the internet a year ago. Just something as a hobby. Like I said, I’ve only mastered basic padlocks. And I don’t have the lock picking tools with me.”

  “What would you need to pick the lock?” I have to speak even louder to be heard over Trygg and Herockghyrra’s raised voices.

  “A few pieces of slim metal.”

  I close my eyes and try to concentrate even with Trygg and Herockghyrra yelling at each other. Escape. If we can get a few pieces of metal and get them to Brett and if he can pick the locks even though they are Averellian locks and he doesn’t have a whole lot of practice, and if we can do all this before he gets too weak to hold himself up, reach through the bars, and pick the locks, and if we can unlock our cells, we might have a chance to get out of here in one piece.

  Trygg and Herockghyrra are making it really hard to concentrate.

  I peer out the cell window again. Trygg is pressed against his cell window, gesturing through the bars. Herockghyrra’s eyes are flashing as she spits out words so fast even I struggle to understand what she’s saying. If she was in her dragon form, this entire dungeon would’ve been awash in flames.

  Time to break this up. “Stop it, both of you! Silence!”

  Something in my tone must have been sharp enough to get their attention. Trygg snaps his mouth shut and turns to me. Herockghyrra spits out one last word—something I’m pretty sure is a bad word in the dragon tongue—and arches an eyebrow.

  “Look. I know unicorns and dragons don’t get along. I’m not going to ask you to like each other. But we aren’t the enemy. Our enemy is the one who controlled those farffles and brought us here. So until we get out of here, let’s concentrate on working together and escaping, agreed?” I force my tone to go as stern as I can manage. Hopefully I sound like Mom.

  Trygg nods. “Okay. Sorry I lost my temper, Ami.”

  “Fine. I suppose I can tolerate working with you, Princess Amarani. As long as I am not required to work too closely with the flea-ridden nag in the cell next to me.” Herockghyrra tilts her chin, causing her nose to appear even more thin and pointed in the faint glowstone light.

  “Flea-ridden nag! I’ll have you know I have never had a flea in my life! You’re just a fire-breathing, lizard-skinned...”

  “Trygg.” I glare. I don’t need them to start up another argument.

  Trygg hangs his head. “Sorry, Ami.”

  “Okay.” I glance between the two of them, making sure I have their attention. “Brett says he has some knowledge of picking locks. He hasn’t had a lot of practice, but he’s willing to try. We just need to find a few small pieces of metal that will fit in the locks. Any ideas?”

  Trygg pivots, disappears, then reappears back at his cell window. “I think we can pry up the grate over the latrine hole. At least one or two of us should be able to come up with a few pieces that will work.”

  Herockghyrra snorts. “And how do you propose we get the metal we pry up over to the diplomat when he is locked in a cell on the other side of the dungeon, flower-eater?”

  “Ummm...not sure. Throw it, maybe?” Trygg mimes throw
ing something through his cell bars.

  I shake my head, cross my cell, and study the grate over the latrine. It is crusted with rust and bits of stuff I don’t want to think about, even though it is so old and desiccated it isn’t all that gross. With the grate so rusted, it should be possible to chip it out of the stone and pry it apart.

  But it will take time. Time Brett might not have. By the time one or two of us manages to get suitable pieces, would Brett be strong enough to pull himself upright, reach through the bars, and pick the lock? Even assuming we can get the metal pieces to him.

  I return to my cell window. “Brett, we’re going to do our best to pry the grates off our latrine holes to get pieces of metal. But, unless you get two suitable pieces first, I don’t think there’s a way we can pass the pieces we get to you. How hard do you think it would be for you to talk one of us through picking our own lock?”

  Brett takes a moment to consider before he answers. “Not hard, I don’t think. After all, I learned from a short instruction pamphlet, a few online videos, and practice.”

  “All right, thanks.” I switch back to Averellian. “It’s a good idea to use the latrine grates, Trygg. But you’re right, Herockghyrra. We don’t have a way to pass them to each other. We’ll have to each try to get two suitable pieces out of our own latrine grates. Brett will do his best to teach us how to pick our own locks, with me translating for the two of you. After all, it doesn’t really matter which of us unlocks our chains and cells first. As long as one of us does.”

  Trygg nods so vigorously his hair bounces up and down over his forehead.

  I meet Herockghyrra’s gaze. “And no leaving anyone behind. If you’re the first one to unlock your cell, you take the time to unlock the rest of ours, got it? We’ll do the same for you. We’re all on the same team here.”

  “If you insist.” Herockghyrra sniffs and disappears from her cell window, presumably to start prying at her grate. She hasn’t exactly agreed to my plan, but this is about as much as I can expect from a dragon.