by D. E. Morris
“Hey!” Connor twisted in an effort to get away from the man holding him down and the one searching his sodden clothing. “Get off of me! Do you have any idea who I am?!”
Cailin managed to kick him even as she was being searched. When he looked at her in alarm, she gave him a scathing look that silenced him.
The bag that Jaryn had been carrying was tossed to the woman, and both Cailin and Jaryn were relieved of their weapons. Satisfied with her captives forced into stillness on the ground, the woman took a step closer and looked down the tip of her nose at them. “Who are you?”
“Simple travelers who are a long way from home,” stated Jaryn quickly. “You sound like you're a long way from home, too. I hear the accent of the Nagin in your voice.”
All the woman had to do was raise her eyes and one of the men who had tackled Jaryn to the ground gave him a swift, hard kick to his ribs. Jaryn cried out in pain and tried to curl in on himself, but was pushed flat to the ground by a foot on his back. Again the woman asked, “Who are you?”
“Travelers,” answered Jaryn, his voice strained.
“No one travels out this far that do not turn away at the sight of what stands in their way. Answer me now.”
“People do travel out this far without turning back,” he insisted, “if we are here now.”
The woman sighed and Jaryn was kicked again, this time in the face. For a moment he could only see stars, the sound of his own heart pulsing in his ears. Blood pooled in his mouth from a split lip. Pain raced through the side of his face and he knew, without even being able to touch it, that his nose was broken. As blood leaked out from between his lips to drip onto the ground just under his face, he knew he was lucky. His jaw could have easily been broken had his attacker been a little more aggressive. As it was, he knew he couldn't give anything away. He'd seen the riders on the dragons who'd tried to escort them in and the clothing they all wore, the way the dragons were controlled like animals, the same way they had been the night of the attack on Altaine. These people were responsible. He knew it deep down, just as he knew the punishment he was receiving now would be nothing compared to what they had the potential to do to him if they knew who any of them truly were.
He turned his head away from Connor, lying beside him, awash in silent tears, and spit blood from his mouth. With a forced chuckle, he raised his head enough to be able to look up at the woman. “Beat me all you want. You'll get the same answer until I'm not conscious enough to give it to you anymore.”
A thin line of irritation creased the woman's brow. She crouched before him and took his chin in her hand, unaffected by the blood she touched. As she looked him over, he knew she'd be able to see that he was well off just by the clothing he wore. Eventually she rose, letting him go. “Last chance.”
“I told you, we are travelers-”
Jaryn didn't even finish his sentence before the woman gave another nod. This time, however, the man who moved had been hovering over Cailin. Without mercy, he drove his fist right down into the side of her face. She cried out in pain and both Connor and Jaryn tried to wrestle with the men holding them, outrage coursing through both of them at seeing Cailin take the blow.
“All right!” yelled Jaryn, hearing Cailin whimper and seeing her own blood on the ground. “I'll tell you! Just leave her and the boy alone.”
“Don't,” Cailin pleaded, her voice thick. The look in her eyes said she'd come to the same conclusion Jaryn had, that these people were responsible for what had happened only nights ago, and was afraid of what may happen next.
“We're looking for sanctuary.”
“And you thought you would find it here?” The woman looked at the men looming over Jaryn. They each took one of his arms and hefted him to his feet. As he righted himself, the roll of parchment that had been hidden underneath his tunic now stuck out. The woman was quick to spot it and raised a brow. “What is this?” Holding his gaze, the woman stepped close and pulled the parchment free, ignoring the way Jaryn twisted and demanded to be left alone. Unrolling her new treasure, she froze for the quickest moment upon seeing what had been revealed to be a map, yet this was a map unlike any she had seen before. She let a finger trail over one of the magical lines, her eyes darting across the surface as though trying to take everything she saw in. After several long, silence filled moments, she rolled the map back up and stuck it into a large pouch tied to her belt.
“Take them to the cells.”
“What?” Jaryn cried. “You can't do this!”
“What about our dragon?” Cailin demanded, pushing her pain and fear away to try to sound menacing. “You'll regret it if you lock her up.”
The harshness in the woman ebbed slightly as she looked Misuzu over once more. She walked past her prisoners to be close to the giant dragon, no fear in her at all. Lifting a hand, she tried to touch Misuzu's snout but received a warning growl from deep within Misuzu's throat instead.
Play along, begged Cailin. Just for now.
I can't stay in this form for much longer. It's already been too long. I feel myself slipping away each moment that passes.
“I see the reverence in your eyes,” Cailin tried, looking at the woman. “Please, she is very attached to us and is no doubt feeling our anxiety as well as her own. If you must keep her guarded, put her somewhere she can be alone, without eyes on her all the time. If she doesn't calm herself soon, we will all be in danger.”
The woman seemed to consider Cailin's words a moment, watching the angry sway of Misuzu's tail. If the dragon grew any more agitated, that tail alone could do a great deal of damage. Anyone looking at it would know that. Finally, she turned to someone in the crowd and beckoned them forward. “Lead her to one of the breeding barracks. Let her be at peace for now, leave her alone, but keep men at the exits and have someone check on her every hour. I want visual confirmation that she is there and she is well.” The man nodded and hastened away.
“Thank you,” said Cailin, her own lip split and the side of her face already swelling.
The woman glared at her. “Do not think I do it for you.” She jerked her head. “Take them away.”
Play along, Cailin reminded, even as the three of them were being led away. However they try to get you to move, act as any natural born dragon would.
That won't be a problem if I can't shift soon.
For the second time in less than a week, Cailin and Jaryn found themselves between two armored men, being taken to prison holdings, though this time they were both much worse for the wear. Connor was quiet as he walked, his tears subsided but his fear still evident in the way he moved, half hunched over as though to protect himself. In a line, they trudged the steep rocky path that climbed the mountain in uneven, gradual inclines, past small homes, none of them grand or boasting of any sort of riches. Every once in awhile they would see the face of a woman or a child at the window, a man occasionally standing in the door to his home with a weapon ready in his hands. Each and every one of them looked at the trio as though they could attack at any moment, despite their hands being bound and the obvious injuries they'd sustained.
A great commotion rose up from the ground level, causing them to stumble in their walk as they tried to observe what was happening. There appeared to be a cow being led out to where Misuzu waited. If it was meant to entice her, it wasn't working. Someone crouched a few feet away from the cow with something long and thin in their hands. He put the object to his lips, all at once sending something flying from it to strike the cow. It bucked and made an awful sound as blood began pouring from a fresh wound. Misuzu didn't move for a moment, but then her maw parted and she roared. Turning for the cow, the crowds parted to watch. Two men grabbed the cow by the rope bridle around its face and began running with it toward the three mountains on the other side of the island. Misuzu turned so quickly that her tail took out several people who were too close, sending them flying. She ran as quickly as she could on her short legs, salivating after the cow.
They neve
r saw the rest. Jaryn was thrown into a cell by himself, two of his walls solid rock. A third wall that he shared with the cell Cailin and Connor were tossed into was mostly rock as well, save for a barred opening the size of a window. Both cells had fully barred doors, nothing like the wood and iron doors they were all used to. Something else they weren't used to was being left somewhat open to the elements. A wide open landing separated the cell doors from the mountain cliff, protected from the weather by only a stone roof. It was as though the mountain had been dug into just to make space for the cells.
A cheer came up from down below. None of them were sure they wanted to know what it was for.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
D.E. began writing at the age of fourteen. During her freshman year of high school she participated in a nation-wide writing contest for racial diversity, and won a special recognition for her short story. She's since had a poem published in a compilation book and has continued to look toward Richard Adams, Melanie Rawn, and Marion Zimmer Bradley, some of her favorite authors, for inspiration as she continues working on the next books in her Age of Valor series, as well as other writing projects.
Connect with D. E. Morris by following her on Twitter (phasingirl), liking the official Age of Valor Facebook page (facebook.com/ageofvalor), or emailing her directly at [email protected]. You can also keep up to date with important announcements and blog posts at her official website!
www.demorrisauthor.com
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