The Last Dragon: Book Three

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Damon

We reached the farm that Flier’s family owned after a short walk down the road from the Waystone. Better said, we reached the place where a farmhouse had once stood. The blackened remains were covered in vines, and grass grew high enough to almost hide them from the road.

Part of the fences that outlined the pastures were visible in the overgrown fields where small trees had rooted and grew head-high. There was no sign of people. Flier stood alone and looked over what had been a prosperous family farm, trying to hold his emotions in check.

We said nothing. Finally, he turned and continued walking in the direction of Vin. The local clothing we hoped to get wouldn’t happen. Our pace slowed. We started to notice that despite the fertile ground and plentiful water from a small river, there was an unnatural quiet.

Kendra moved to my side and said as we entered the outskirts of the northern edge of Vin, “Damon, I don’t like this place.”

“Neither do I.” Too many of the small farms and houses along the river were dreary and overgrown with vines and weeds. Few cattle grazed the lush grass in the pastures. No dogs barked. As many farms stood empty as those occupied.

We’d split up a little as we traveled. Avery lagged far behind, moving slowly as all wandering priests did, seemingly traveling alone. Kendra and the girls walked together as any mother and her children might. Flier and I walked fifty paces ahead of them, just a pair of dusty travelers fresh in from the desert.

For every person we saw, there should have been ten more. I heard Anna speak to Kendra and giggle, which caused me to notice there were no children in sight. I glanced back and found Anna and Kendra lost in girl-talk, but little Emma wore a scowl as concerned as my own. It seemed that Emma, while the youngest, often wore a scowl.

“Where are you taking us?” I asked Flier, “And why?”

“My family owns several houses and apartments. We’re going to the largest. If they are living there, we can enlist their help and get the money to pay for a ransom, if your princess has been taken.”

“You’ve been planning,” I commented.

“More like listening to the two of you and deciding how to meet your wishes. After all, you’ve done for me, I owe you.”

“Choosing good friends is a knack I seem to have.”

We both laughed. After turning up another street, a house stood so large it blocked the entire block, and the little traffic on the streets had to go around it. On the massive set of steps In front marched guards, six that were in sight, all wearing the blue uniforms of the King’s Army.

Flier bumped my shoulder and forced me to turn into the next alley. He whispered, “That was my father’s house. There would be no guards if he lived there, especially when they are dressed in blue.”

Kendra and the girls followed us. We waited until they caught up.

Flier said, “I suggest we go to the waterfront. Perhaps your princess has not yet arrived on the ship.”

Kendra said, “Whatever you think best.”

When Flier turned away, she scowled and mouthed, “What the hell?”

I shrugged and moved to catch up with him. His optimism and cheer were gone. His face displayed dismay and anger. He had obviously expected his family to be living in their home and was worried. Our vague plans had suddenly gone astray, and neither Kendra or I were happy about it. Flier’s entire attitude, stance, and expression had changed when he laid eyes on the guards.

He navigated us out of several alleys to a main street, and we again walked as a pair, the three women fifty steps behind and acting as if we all just happened to be going in the same direction. Several people took notice of my sword. That made me look at them, and I found no swords, almost as if they were not allowed. If I wore a long robe like many of the locals, I’d have placed it underneath.

The slope of the hill took us generally down to where a few masts of ships stuck up over the roofs like stray twigs on branches. As we passed by the last in a row of two-story buildings, the harbor was in full view and directly ahead was the Gallant, tied to a pier. Our buoyant attitude swelled, and we exchanged grins.

We went directly in that direction, almost at a trot. There were ten or more soldiers lounging on the pier. One, an officer from the gold piping on his uniform, watched us with lazy, but interested eyes. With two fingers pointing at my foot to draw attention, I motioned for Kendra to take the girls down a side street instead of to the ship. She seemed to understand my concern as they moved away.

Flier said softly, “A trap? I don’t know, but we might hold our own against them.”

I said, “If they attack, we’ll jump into the water and swim to the far side of the ship. That’s the purser at the quarterdeck, and he’ll recognize us and lower a ladder.”

Flier muttered, “I’m in a mood to fight.” But he didn’t argue.

Still, if one or two of them reached us, I’d bet Flier’s blade would also sing alongside mine. I stepped a little to one side, to give him room. We warily walked on past them and up the gangplank, where the purser had already called for a messenger. The boy escorted us to Elizabeth’s cabin, where we found Lady Grace anxiously waiting.

She said anxiously, “Did you see her?”

“Who?”

“Elizabeth! They came aboard and took the princess.” Her eyes were red, her voice screeching.

Flier and I looked at each other. “Who?” I managed.

“The soldiers!”

Flier snapped, “The color of their uniforms?”

“Blue.”

Timor raced inside the cabin. “They just came aboard and took her just after dark last night before anyone knew what was happening. Two of the crew were hurt. I’m coming with you.”

“No,” I placed a hand on his shoulder. “You stay with Lady Grace and protect her. Do what you think is best for the two of you, and if the Gallant sails, you sail with her. Return to Dire with the news.”

“I can fight,” he persisted.

Flier again came to my rescue with a lie, “We only have enough horses for two.”

Timor said, “Kendra?”

“Safe,” I assured him.

We turned to leave and were met on the deck by the purser and the captain. The captain said with a stiff voice that betrayed his anger, “It happened so fast. We’re sorry, this has never happened where soldiers come aboard a vessel. It is against maritime law, and there will be consequences. Is there anything we can do?”

“Protect Lady Grace and Timor,” I said. Then realized the crack of my voice was an accusation more than a request. “I’m sorry.”

The purser said, “They took her to a big house in the center of the city. It’s surrounded by guards. I had one of my men follow them.”

“You did well,” Flier said. “A three-story house?”

“Yes.”

It was the one that had belonged to Flier’s family. It was being used by the military as a headquarters and perhaps a prison. We pushed past the ship’s officers, anxious to get ashore and look for Princess Elizabeth, and as we reached the quarterdeck, we noticed the ten soldiers who had been lounging on the pier were now on their feet and massed at the bottom of the gangplank.

The officer with them smiled wickedly, knowing we were mice in a trap.

“Swim?” Flier asked.

“Not this time,” I said while drawing my sword with a flourish they’d all notice. From the corner of my eye, the captain was ordering his men to back me. His ship had been violated, and his anger was as great as mine. However, the gangplank was wide enough for only one person. In a louder voice, I called, “Stand well behind me. Don’t crowd., I’ll need room to move.”

To be sure my magic was intact, I swirled a small whirlwind and watched the water form a miniature waterspout—then ventured onto the gangplank a slow step at a time, watching for their reaction. A soldier charged up the ramp. I met him halfway.

My blade slashed twice, once left-to-right across his chest, then a return swing right-to-left across his neck. He fell at my feet, and I retreated two steps. In order to reach me, the next would have to climb over the first, and through all the slippery blood.

The second also charged at the urging of his officer, who stood safely on the pier. A little magic caused one foot to fly out from under him, and he tripped and fell forward, to meet a single slash of my sword. Now there were two bodies for them to climb over. I waited.

The third ignored his officer’s shouts to attack and came slower. I still waited, almost motionless. He raised his sword, ready to take the final step, but a blast of magic air struck his face. His eyes reflexively closed, a fatal mistake as my sword chose that moment to slash across his stomach. His moans carried to those still on the pier.

My fury had risen, and instead of waiting for the next to charge the ramp, I leaped over the three on the gangplank, then the side railing to land on the pier, and slew the two nearest before my feet fully landed on the pier. When they did, another soldier was in reach of my blade, his arms raised high to protect himself, and my blade slid across his middle, too.

As I’d been taught, I slashed, never stabbed. An opponent with a deep slice across his body seldom wished to continue fighting. My intention was to slash and move ahead until none wished to fight.

There were only four more of them and the officer. Flier leaped over the railing of the ramp and landed at my side, then moved quickly two steps away from me where our blades wouldn’t foul each other when swinging. I heard the feet of the ship’s officers pounding down the ramp. We charged. Two of them spun and ran after the other two, and the officer lay dying or dead.

Sailors from the ship joined us. They’d tried to help, but the battle was that short. The captain had the three bodies on the gangplank rolled off, and they splashed into the water of the bay. The captain said, “Take as many of my men with you as you need.”

“Thanks, but we’re better as a team,” I told him as I nodded in the direction of Flier. “Besides, you need to get your ship free of the pier and out to sea. There will be a whole army coming this way soon.”

He said, “There are other trade routes.”

“Meaning you won’t be returning here?” I asked.

“Vin has violated a basic law of the sea. Word of their transgression will spread. With this, no ships will make port here.” The captain turned, walked back up to the quarterdeck of his ship, and turned to salute to Flier and me. Then the purser began shouting orders to the deckhands. The ropes securing the ship to the pier were released, two sails raised, and the gangway retracted. As we watched, the ship pulled away, moving slowly to the center of the bay.

When we reached Kendra and the girls who were waiting in the alley, she said, “I knew we should have brought bows with us. I could have put an arrow in each of those that escaped.”

Flier said, “No matter, word would have spread. They’ll be after us, soon. We need to go this way.”

He trotted off at an angle, taking us up one street and down another. Finally, after ten or twelve blocks, he reached a two-story building that looked like all the others. He ushered us into the barn built on the first floor and placed a bar of iron across the entry door.

I expected to climb the stairs, but Flier took us to a stall filled with old hay and horse-droppings. He kicked some of it aside and found an iron ring. “Down.”

We found a set of steep stairs and were all huddled at the bottom when he closed the door above. A spark flared, and a candle with a thin wick ignited and spread a weak yellow light. He placed an amber glass globe over it, and we had enough light to see—barely.

We were in a tunnel. Flier took the lead, and we walked for hundreds of steps, him holding the candle high to cast light back on the rest of us. We paused every few steps to wipe away spider webs, but overall, the tunnel was clear, dry, and safe. We arrived at another set of stairs, and he handed me the candle.

“Wait here.”

He reached up and slid a latch to one side. Another hatch flew open, this time by someone other than Flier. Light flooded inside. It was so bright we couldn’t see.

As my eyes adjusted and found four men, all with bows. Their arrows pointed right at us.

“It’s me,” Flier growled. “Where’s my father?”

A man stepped into view. “He’s safely at the coast. We thought you dead.”

We were all helped into a tack-room of a work-shed, then up a flight of stairs to an ordinary home. The man who lived there worked for Flier’s family and maintaining the escape tunnel was part of their deal.

Flier introduced the older man as Chambers and his four eldest sons who had greeted us at the tunnel. Mary, his wife, fed us while Chambers and Flier talked, huddled in a corner. Chambers confirmed the family had believed Flier dead, and when he found we’d killed the soldiers at the ship, he became concerned for the safety of his wife and sons.

Flier explained we were trying to rescue a missing princess. Chambers reacted by tossing a look to the five of us, which included my sister and the girls. He held his tongue and listened as Flier told him of her abduction from the ship.

Chambers turned to his sons. “This woman is important. All four of you need to go out into the streets and talk to friends who may have seen or heard anything. You know better than to ask direct questions, but you should be able to say you heard a woman was taken from a ship. Do not mention she is a princess.”

They left hurriedly. Kendra said, “We don’t want them to get into trouble asking questions.”

Chambers laughed. “These days, everyone asks questions, but only of those they trust. The story of a woman being taken from a ship is probably on the lips of half of Vin right now.”

We watched the street below from behind the edge of curtains. Flier talked to Chambers, catching up on the demise of the city, as well as news of his family. I quit listening until I heard him ask, “How did you know we were in the tunnel?”

“Traps and alarms. But the hatch at this end is balanced carefully with nothing sitting on it but a few small bells. When you closed the door at the other end, the compressed air in the tunnel made this door rise and fall enough to ring the bells. There are a few others alarms, too.”

*I like him,* Anna said.

*Me too.*

*Can we talk? Just you and me?*

* We're doing that now, aren’t we?*

In my mind, I saw a fleeting red image of her scowl. *Alone.*

*Is it important?*

*Yes.*

I stood and said to the room at large. “I want to go back to that barn at the end of the tunnel and see if we were followed. Does anyone live upstairs there?”

Chambers said, “The apartment is empty, but do not move in front of any windows, or even allow the curtains to move. There are too many in Vin who sells information.”

“Okay, I’ll be careful. Anna, want to go with me? I can use some company.”

She instantly rose to her feet. Kendra gave me an inquiring look, and Emma also stood. “I want to go, too.”

“No, I want you to stay with Kendra. One little girl at a time is all I can handle.”

“I want to go,” Emma insisted.

They had seldom been apart since we found them, and I had no reason to separate them. I looked at Anna, and she gave me the slightest shake of her head, a movement so small others looking directly at her may not have noticed. I said, “No, you stay this time. I’ll take you next.”

Emma furrowed her eyebrows.

*No,” Anna silently told me with enough emotion to almost stagger me.

Before there could be any more discussion, I headed down the stairs, Anna at my heels. We used the trapdoor, and I used my magic to light the flame of the candle. There were fewer spider webs, and we moved quickly. At the far end, we climbed the stairs up into the barn, then another set of stairs that took us to the second floor and into a vacant apartment with all the heavy curtains pulled closed.

I went to the rear and looked out to where I couldn’t see the ship because of the buildings, but I could see the main street leading to it was filled with soldiers who were now splitting into smaller groups and hurrying apart. Others were arriving. As I watched, they began a house-to-house search. The search was still several blocks away, so we had time. A little. And Anna’s request to talk to me alone seemed important to her.

“You wanted to speak with me? Alone?” I asked, my eyes still on the activity of the soldiers.

“Alone. Now I don’t know what to say or how to start.”

I turned and faced a very serious twelve-year-old, and despite the dangers all around us, I expected her to ask if boys liked her or if I thought she was pretty. I should have known better, living with a pair of strong women almost my whole life, but children bring out the sense that I’m so much smarter than them that their concerns are often humorous. They are more attuned to the feelings of others than men, which is to say that we lack a form of empathy.

Anticipating what was to come caused a smile to form. I was so smart.

She placed her hands on her hips and spat at me, “Are you going to take me seriously or stand there with that stupid grin on your face?”

I got rid of the smile. Whatever it was, she seemed more upset than I expected and perhaps I should listen. Perhaps. What a stupid thought. I turned back to the window for a quick check, then gave her my full attention. “Okay, what is it?”

“Emma.”

“Is she bothering you in some way?” I feared Emma was using her magic to torment her older sister again in some fashion. I knew how to do that from the first-hand experience and could quickly end it.

“No. Not directly,” she said hesitantly. “But there is something you should know, and I think it’s why she wanted to come with us so badly. She does not want me to be alone with you.”

I glanced out the rear window again and watched more troops fan out for their searches. It made me impatient, but I said, “I don’t understand. Is she jealous?”

“No. I don’t know how to explain, so I’m just going to just say it. Remember the day you found us in the storm?”

“Of course. It was a terrible day.”

“I heard the storm was caused by a mage. Is that true?” she asked.

“I think so. My guess is that it was. Why does it matter?”

“Why would a mage make such a storm? Right at that time? Have you asked yourself that?”

“No,” I admitted, but had thought about it several times.

She closed her eyes and remained silent for so long I thought she was finished speaking, but she opened them and looked directly at me, then reached out and took both of my hands in hers, the first time she’d made such a gesture. Her eyes watered, and tears threatened to fall. She spoke rushed, as if afraid to tell me. “Damon, I cannot remember a single thing about Emma before that day. I remember eating meals with my mother and father, but never with her at the table. I played with another little girl when small, but not Emma.”

“What are you saying?”

Her small hands squeezed mine. “I am saying I cannot ever remember Emma before the day of the storm. Things were put in my mind that sort of made it seem like I knew her, that we were sisters, but the more I think about it, the more I’m convinced she is not my sister.”

“How can that be?” I stuttered.

“I’m just twelve. You tell me how I cannot remember a single time when the four of us were together, my parents, her, and me. Not once. I went shopping with my mother, but it was only her and me. Emma was never there. Our house had two rooms for sleeping, a large one for my parents, a tiny one that used to be a closet was converted for me. There was no other room for Emma to sleep in, and mine was too small for two.”

She was still on the verge of tears, awaiting my response and probably my rejection at such an idea. I said, “Maybe you are not sisters. Maybe you were just traveling with Emma. Your mother could have been watching over her when the storm struck.”

“Emma says we are sisters.”

I waited for more.

“Emma does not eat. She pretends but does not. She hides her food and throws it away when nobody is looking. I am not crazy and want you to believe me.”

Her request to believe her was not as farfetched as she might think. I’d met the Blue Lady a few times and felt fear as a sour taste in my mouth. My hands started shaking. I didn’t want to believe it. I couldn’t. Yet, as my mind wrapped around several past events, it might be true. No, it was true. I was certain.

Emma was an apparition, or whatever the right word would be. She was like the Blue Lady, but a better projection. The more I thought of it, the more I realized the scowls, the frowns, the response to my offer to help her with the language. Touching her mind had been like poison. Almost evil.

The more I thought about it, the more I was revolted. The more I knew Anna was right. Emma was our enemy.