“Sorry,” Heron said, surprise all over his face. “I didn’t mean that your people weren’t important.”
Octon huffed, but he turned and kept walking.
“Are your people dying while they are looking for magic?” I asked gently, trying to show that we did care about the problem. “Are they digging wells or exploring caves or spending too much time under the sea?”
He stopped again and I backed up a step, worried that I’d said the wrong thing, too. It was hard to know what to say that wouldn’t be wrong. I knew nothing about this land or its customs and even the most innocent observations or questions were perilous.
“Magic comes from life. If it is no longer pooled under the earth and sea, it can be sucked from the land.”
“How terrible,” I said, trying to be careful. “Does it kill your trees and flowers?”
There were so many trees and flowers around that it was hard to imagine this place without them. They waved gently in the breeze around us.
He snorted. “You can only pull so much life out of non-sentient things. It’s inefficient. The Saaasallla prefers efficiency.”
“Oh.”
We emerged from the trees, but Octon motioned to stay low as we watched the tower from the treeline. There was a watchman patrolling a ring around the camp at the base of the tower and there were probably more guards at the tower, too. I felt sweat beginning to bead on my forehead. This was going to be harder than I’d even imagined. Where, in this huge camp, would they have kept Nasataa? The tents and pavilions flew flags over them – different combinations of colors. Did that mean something?
“Which is why,” Octon whispered as his gaze flicked over the camp, “the Bubblers prefer sentient creatures. Humans ... and dragons.”
Heron’s whisper was hoarse. “Are you saying that they suck the life out of people to fuel their magical efforts?”
I felt like I needed to sit down. My head was suddenly light.
It was all I could do to keep whispering when I said, “Are you saying that they’ll suck the life out of Nasataa?”
“All trespassers are considered good sources of life and magical power. What do you think they would do with you if they caught you?”
“Burn me alive.”
His expression looked impressed. “They might. That’s one way to suck the magic out of someone.”
I exchanged a terrified glance with Heron.
“But don’t think you’re special. I’m not just doing this to help you,” Octon said grimly. “I turned to the Lightbringers after the rulers sucked my family dry and tossed them in a mass grave like buried refuse.”
And these were the people we were going to try to sneak past?
Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea after all.
And then I heard a little voice in my head.
Sela?
Nasataa! He just spoke his first word!
And it was probably meant to be my name!
Chapter Seventeen
“He’s in there,” I said with a gasp. “I heard him!”
“Good,” Octon said, his eyes narrowing. “Try not to talk. You sound foreign. Follow my lead.”
“How will we get into the tower?” Heron asked.
“The tower isn’t our goal. It’s offensive. They won’t have the dragon in there. They’ll have him in the Bubbler tent – the one with the blue and white flag over it,” Octon said. “Now, follow my lead and no more talking!”
He was already moving before I could say anything. I looked at Heron but he only shrugged, waiting for me to move before he followed. I pulled the goggles down over my eyes – they felt strange like that, but I thought that anything that distorted my face was a good idea when I was sneaking into an enemy compound – and followed Octon. I tried not to wince at my ankle. Maybe I should have worn the mask, too, instead of leaving it hanging around my neck, but it felt too strange and panic welled up in me whenever I put it on.
The next time I glanced back, Heron had his mask and goggles on. He was still too bulky for the outfit, though. I hadn’t seen a Rock Eater yet who was as tall as he was or as thick with muscle.
We reached the guard station first. Two guards stood on either side of the well-worn road, long weapons in their hands that looked an awful lot like my spear, but instead of a single blade on the end, theirs had a pair of prongs with barbs on the ends.
“Business?” the first guard demanded.
“With the Faaallland,” Octon replied curtly.
Behind the guards, a pair of Rock Eaters walked by pushing a wheelbarrow, their flowing red clothing pulled down to the waist and tied there as they worked. It was all I could do not to gape. Their bodies were marked with white – whether that was paint or something else that tinged the skin, it seemed to flex with their every move. It ended at their necks, but from collar to waist their bones were picked out, drawn on top of their skin, and patterns of flowers and birds made swirls around the bones as if they had decorated their insides and then put it all on display.
I was glad I was wearing goggles so that no one would see my eyes bugging out.
“Details?” the guard asked.
“Private,” Octon said.
“Password?”
“Daxillius.”
The guard stepped back for us to pass. Now, why would Octon have the password? Were we just incredibly lucky to have found him, or was there more going on here than met the eye? Nervously, I followed, hoping that this wasn’t some kind of trap.
There was a commotion at the other side of the camp. Voices rose up and a loud crash boomed across the encampment.
I didn’t dare ask Octon any questions. He ducked behind a tent the moment the chaos started and I followed him. Heron collided into my back, but I was just glad he was there.
We followed Octon through the camp as the sun sank past the horizon. The camp was bigger than it had seemed from the air. Without Octon, I would have easily been lost. The flags were hard to see and I still hadn’t caught sight of one that was white and blue.
A group of men holding those strange twin-tipped spears trotted past and then Octon ducked his head into one of the tents before motioning us to follow. He lit a lamp inside and grabbed a double-pronged spear from a rack of them at one side of the tent.
“Supply tents have a pure white banner,” he said briskly as he filled a belt pouch with other supplies.
“What are those?” Heron asked him.
“Bubble masks,” Octon said as he stuffed filmy things in his bag. They glowed slightly like they were powered by magic. “Let you breathe for up to twenty-four hours under water and they regulate your heat and pressure under the waves. Bubblers use them.”
“What do you need them for?” Heron asked.
“They’re hard to find.”
“So, you decided to just pause and steal a few?” He looked shocked.
Octon leaned in close, growling. “I’ve been living on edges for years, boy, and thanks to you, they ransacked my cabin and I can’t get my stuff, so yeah, I’ll take what I need when I can. If you have half a brain, you’ll grab some, too. They’re priceless.”
He grabbed a handful and jammed them at Heron.
Heron shook his head, his wide eyes meeting mine, but I noticed that he did stuff them in his pocket.
“We shouldn’t stay here long,” I said. “Anything can happen in a few minutes and they’ve already had Nasataa for too long.”
I called to him, reaching out, and found his little mind instantly. He was worried about me. He was hungry.
I grabbed a few sticks of something that looked like dried meat from a barrel beside us and put them in my own bag. I’d hidden it under the red clothes. If we were going to steal – and I didn’t like doing it, but then again, they’d stolen Nasataa from me – then we might as well steal something useful.
I sent a feeling of reassurance to Nasataa and felt a burst of pleasure at his response.
Sela!
Hold on, little buddy. I’
m coming.
“Come on, Octon,” I said, tugging at his sleeve. I noticed that Heron had pulled a big hammer off the rack and was swinging it as if he was testing the weight. It looked a lot like the blacksmith hammers he used at home. He wasn’t thinking of bringing that, was he? “We have to hurry!”
They both needed to focus. There was a baby dragon waiting for us.
“We’re just gearing up, Seleska,” Heron said. “There might be trouble.”
“There won’t be if we hurry!” I whispered. I could tell that Nasataa was still unhurt. But how long would that last if we delayed? The last light had faded outside the tent and I was equally worried about being caught. Surely, they must keep an eye on their supply tents.
I was about to say more but then the screams started.
We froze, looking at the wall of the tent as if we could see through it.
“Did that voice sound familiar to you?” Heron asked worriedly.
Chapter Eighteen
I didn’t have time to reply before Heron was charging out of the tent and through the darkness. I hobbled after him, slowed by my sprained ankle and quickly falling behind. I heard a curse in the darkness as Octon overtook me, speeding past toward where Heron rushed into the night.
A tent blocked them from view as they quickly outpaced me. This ankle was a real problem. What would I do if I lost them? My heart beat faster and I pushed my goggles onto my forehead so I could see more easily. The night was alight, despite the darkness. The tower in the center of the camp was on fire and people ran from every direction toward it, barking orders or yelling to one another.
I hurried as fast as I could, trying to look like I was doing the same thing that they all were, but now I was worried. There was no way I was going to catch up with Heron and Octon and without them, I was lost.
And how could I free Nasataa if I didn’t even know where I was?
As if called by his name, Nasataa reached out to me.
Sela!
Was he close to where I was? For some reason, he’d sounded louder. Closer.
He sent me an image of the inside of a tent, which wasn’t a lot of help, but the walls were orange. Could I tell what color the walls of the tents were in the dark?
Some of them had lights inside and those glowed orange or dull red through the tent fabric. One of the ones to my left seemed to be glowing extra orange. Or maybe it was my imagination.
I tried to look for the flag at the top of the tent, but I couldn’t see it in the darkness. Should I take the gamble and go check it out? After all, everyone seemed distracted by the fire and the screams and I couldn’t possibly catch up to Heron and Octon.
I licked my lips, wavering.
Indecision would help nothing.
Clenching my jaw with determination, I hurried toward the more orange tent as fast as I could on my painful ankle.
There was no one outside it. I scurried to the doorway, looking furtively around me, but every person I saw was running toward the tower, buckets or weapons in hand.
Okay, might as well look. I took a deep breath, bracing myself and ducked into the tent.
A squeal of excitement pierced the air.
Nasataa!
I flew to where he was sitting in a golden lace cage. My eyes felt wet as I reached toward him, sticking my fingers through the bars of the cage.
“You’re okay! Oh, Nasataa, I was so worried!”
Sela!
I reached into my bag, pulling out a strip of the dried meat for him. I couldn’t stop the tears from pouring down my face. I’d been so worried about him. I felt like a heavy weight had been lifted off my chest. He was okay! He was trapped – but okay.
So, how did I get him out of this cage?
He licked my fingers gently, looking up at me with huge, sweet eyes, and then began to chomp happily at the meat. He really was hungry.
There was no key left on the nearby tables or chairs. Though this place had the look of occupancy. Cups of tea still rested on a low table, steam stirring the air above them. Whoever had been here must have run to the fire with everyone else.
That meant they’d be back as soon as it was out.
I needed to hurry.
“Okay, watch out, Nasataa,” I said. “I’m going to try to break you out.”
I jammed the butt of my spear through the bars of his cage and tried to pry them apart, but I only managed to spin the cage around. I needed more leverage.
Carefully, I lifted the cage down to the floor, wedging it between my feet, and tried again. One of the bars bent slightly, but not enough to set Nasataa free. I pulled the spear out and sat on the ground, gripping one bar with my fingers and wedging the heel of my unsprained ankle in the marginally wider gap I’d made. I pulled with my hands and pushed with my foot as hard as I could.
They budged!
With a gasp and a huge breath, I tried again.
This time, to my delight, the bars squealed as they pulled apart.
Would it be enough?
A joyful Nasataa squeezed through the bars, climbing up to sit on my shoulder and chew my ear. I hugged him close, tears blinding me for a moment.
“It’s okay,” I said. “I’ll never let anyone take you again!”
“That might be a hard promise to keep,” a voice said from the tent door.
I spun, Nasataa still clutched in my arms.
In the door of the tent, the Bubbler from Metamor stood, her mask hanging loose, and her goggles pushed up. She was barely older than I was, I realized. But the look on her face was deadly.
“Unless you want him to die with you.”
Chapter Nineteen
I opened the flap of my bag and Nasataa leapt inside while I scrambled to grab my staff. I could feel the little dragon peeking over my shoulder as I stood up, wobbling against the staff.
“You can’t even stand, and you think you’re going to fight me? You foreigners are a joke,” the Bubbler said.
“Who are you anyway?” I asked. “How did you get so far south so quickly?”
One of her eyebrows rose. “I could ask you the same question. Only I thought you came here the same way I did – by rail.”
I didn’t even know what she was talking about. I swallowed, holding the staff in front of me defensively. She only laughed.
“That won’t do anything, girl. I’m trained in the life force arts. I’ll suck your life from your bones and then use it to make you dance without your skin.”
“Ugh! You wouldn’t really do that, would you?” I asked. “That’s sick.”
Her eyes widened like she was surprised by my reaction.
“Is that fun for you?” I pressed. “You like to do gross creepy things, and that makes you smile in the dark when you’re sitting all alone because you killed all the people who could have been your friends?”
Her eyes widened further, and her hand reached out, claw-like. Had no one ever told her the truth about who she was? It was coming as a total shock. I could see that.
“It’s not too late,” I said, trying to be gentle. Maybe no one had ever loved her enough to tell her that her behavior was terrible. “You could become a nice person. Make friends. Be a positive force in the world.”
Sweat broke out across her brow and her hood fell, revealing hair frizzling at the ends as her face screwed up in an expression of concentration.
“It’s not working,” she gasped.
“It could work. If you gave compassion and kindness more of a try, it could work for you,” I encouraged.
Her eyes were so wide now that I was afraid they might pop out of her face, and her cheeks were stained with purple. Had she even taken a breath while we were talking? She raised the other hand, claw-like.
“The magic. It’s not working.”
Oh.
She was trying to kill us. And I’d been encouraging her to be kind.
Ooops.
There was a heavy thunk and then she fell to the ground and Heron ran into the tent, a body s
lung over one shoulder and blood pouring down his cheek from a gash on his face.
“You have the dragon?” he asked, breathlessly.
“Yes! Heron, are you –”
“Run!” he shouted and then he turned on his heel and ran from the tent. Was that Vyvera hanging over his shoulders? Her head lolled and bounced as he ran, her clothing was torn and bloody.
Where was Octon? Where was Damokas?
I hobbled after Heron as he darted from tent to tent, trying to keep out of sight as people continued to run toward the fire.
“Octon?” I gasped, pain in my voice when we reached the next tent.
“Providing a distraction.”
We darted to the next tent. I could barely keep up with him, even though he was carrying a full human and all I had was Nasataa and the staff.
I could feel Nasataa curling up in the bag on my back. Were those snores I heard? At least someone felt safe. And that was good. He deserved to feel safe and protected. He never should have been at risk in the first place. But how could I keep him safe in a world like this?
We were closer to the perimeter than I’d expected. The river ran past this part of the encampment and I could tell Heron was angling toward it.
“Shouldn’t we go to the rendezvous?” I asked Heron at the next tent.
“We can’t, Seleska.” His voice sounded worried ... panicked?
There was a shout from behind us.
We ran from where the last tent stood out across the open field toward the river.
“Can’t Damokas come and get us?” I tried again, forcing the worlds out between strained breaths.
My ankle rolled under me again and I fell, but I scrambled back to my feet, recovering my staff, and blinking back tears of pain as I ran.
More shouts filled the air behind us and then we were running again.
We reached the riverbank and I scanned it, looking for a boat. There was no boat.
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