by Timothy Zahn
"That would probably be best," Taneem agreed from behind her, a hint of dark humor peeking through the tension in her voice.
Alison smiled to herself. Taneem was still young, and still very much unsure of herself. But she had spirit, and she had courage.
Actually, in many ways she reminded Alison of herself.
"Okay," Alison said, pulling her feet up into a crouch on the seat and reaching down with the slapstick. "Ready?"
Taneem wrapped her forelegs tightly around Alison's chest beneath her arms. "Ready."
Bracing herself, Alison jammed the slapstick against the accelerator.
The car leaped forward. Alison steered with one hand, holding herself steady against the dashboard with the other.
The wall rushed toward them. Letting go of the wheel, Alison grabbed tightly to Taneem's forelegs. If this didn't work . . .
And with a crunch of metal and plastic, they hit the wall.
The car leaped upward beneath them, the force throwing Alison off balance and nearly tossing her out of the vehicle. The wall and land and sky twisted dizzyingly, and she was yanked off her feet as Taneem leaped. For a frozen fraction of a second she seemed to be drifting through the air, feeling her body turning sideways. The pressure of the K'da forelegs around her torso abruptly vanished—
With a teeth-rattling thud against her back and legs and head, she slammed against something hard.
And as the stars cleared away from her vision, she found herself looking down at the ground far below.
"Taneem?" she croaked. The word came out with a grunt of pain; she hadn't realized just how hard she'd hit the ceramic.
"Here," Taneem's voice came from her shoulder. "I realized suddenly that we would not both fit side by side."
"Good thinking," Alison said. The words came out easier this time. Carefully shifting her throbbing shoulder blades, she took stock of her situation.
Taneem had been right about there being enough room up here. But only just barely. Instead of lying flat in the trough, as Alison had expected, she found herself lying mostly on her right side with her body angling backward against the upwardly curving part of the wall.
It wasn't nearly as stable a position as she'd hoped for. As it was, leaning just a little too far forward would move her center of mass over the edge, and she would be on her way to the ground twenty feet below and either a broken back or a full set of broken ribs.
Worse, lying half upright like this also meant she wasn't as well hidden as she'd hoped to be. Someone standing at the very base of the wall and looking up would have no trouble seeing that something was up here.
But with their stolen car now lying upside down at the base of the wall a dozen feet away it was too late to change plans. The noise of the crash had probably triggered alarms all the way back to the house, and within minutes hordes of ugly Brummgas would be converging on this spot.
Within minutes, hordes of ugly Brummgas were.
There was nothing subtle about their arrival, either. They swarmed in full force, with lights and noise and ground cars and the sounds of air support overhead. Most of them were Brummgas, but there was a scattering of humans among them.
Including Gazen, the slavemaster she'd had her run-in with a few nights ago. He wandered around the edge of the activity, his posture one of brooding watchfulness. He had his snub-nosed laser rifle slung in military ready position over his shoulder.
For perhaps ten minutes the guards wandered around the area, examining the car and the tire tracks on the wall, their big feet stomping over any of the more subtle clues Alison might have left behind. One of them spotted Dumbarton and Mrishpaw, and the center of activity shifted for a minute while they bundled the unconscious mercenaries into one of the cars and sent them back to the house.
Their attention returned to the wall and car for another few minutes. Then, at a command from one of the humans, they split into two groups, one heading north toward the slave area, the other heading south toward the gate.
One of the humans stayed where he was, standing by the overturned car. As the noise of Brummgan feet faded into the night, Alison could hear him talking softly on his comm clip.
"—thought she could ram it through the wall, I suppose," he said. "Pretty stupid. Or just desperate . . . No, I sent them out in both directions. Whichever way she went, she has to be on foot. Shouldn't be too hard to pick up ... Yes, sir, I told them you wanted her alive if possible."
The man glanced to the side as another figure came into Alison's view beneath the overhang. It was Gazen, still wandering thoughtfully around. "No, sir, no sign of anyone else . . . Yes, sir, I'll keep you posted." He touched his comm clip, turning it off.
"You're wrong, you know," Gazen told him. "He's here."
"Who, Morgan?" The other man snorted. "That would be a neat trick."
"Morgan specializes in neat tricks," Gazen countered mildly.
"Well, if he's here, we'll get him," the other promised, his voice dark. "We'll get both of them."
"And the dragon?" Gazen asked.
"Him, too." The other gave an audible sniff. "Unless you'd rather we save him for you."
"Don't worry about it," Gazen said. His voice was still mild, but Alison could hear a grim anticipation lurking beneath it. "When he shows himself the next time, I'll be there."
"Yeah," the other man said. "Whatever." Brushing past Gazen, he disappeared out of Alison's sight. A moment later she heard the sound of a car heading north.
Gazen remained where he was, watching the other's departure. Then, slowly, he turned around in a complete circle. Once, he glanced up toward the wall's overhang, and Alison tensed. But he was looking above the spot where the car had crashed, and there was nothing there for him to see. "Come on out, dragon," he murmured aloud as he lowered his eyes again. "Come on out. Time to play."
Alison felt Taneem stirring against her skin. Gazen stood there a moment longer, then turned and headed north. He passed almost directly beneath Alison and disappeared, his footsteps fading into the night murmurs.
Alison silently counted out fifteen minutes. "Taneem?" she whispered at last.
A bit of weight came onto her shoulder, and a K'da tongue flicked past her cheek. "He's gone," Taneem confirmed. "All of them are gone."
Alison took a careful breath. "Well," she whispered. "It worked."
"It would seem so," Taneem agreed cautiously. "What now?"
Alison chewed at her lip. They certainly couldn't stay here forever. "Hang on," she said. "I'm going to try something."
Carefully, she started to lift her knees. The movement shifted her center of mass toward the edge, and for a second she thought she was going to fall. Hastily, she put her legs back down. She waited a moment for her heart to settle down again, then tried lifting just one knee.
Again, her center of mass shifted, but not nearly as far or as alarmingly. Drawing the knee toward her chest as far as she dared, she planted it against the inside of the lip and carefully pushed.
It worked. As she straightened her leg, the rest of her body moved a few inches down the trough. "There we go," she told Taneem, trying to keep her voice light. "It's not fast, but it'll get us there."
"Where will it get us?"
"To the slave areas," Alison said. "That's our best chance of finding food and shelter until the Malison Ring reinforcements Uncle Virge called get here."
"But won't the Brummgas search that area?"
"Trust me," Alison said grimly as she pushed herself another few inches north. "At the rate we're going, they'll have had time to search the whole place twice before we get there." She screwed up her nose as a small feather tickled her face. "I just hope we're not pushing out a trail of feathers even the Patri Chookoock could follow."
"They are surely used to seeing feathers below the wall," Taneem pointed out. "And there should be enough breeze to keep them spread out."
"If not, there's nothing we can do about it," Alison said. "And there's always the chance th
ey won't even bother looking very hard for me. Now that Neverlin has what he wants, he and Frost could easily be gone by morning."
"With the information they need to destroy Draycos's people."
Alison winced. That was, unfortunately, the downside to this whole thing. "We've got over a month before they arrive," she reminded Taneem. "And there's still one safe that has all of that same information. We just have to figure out how to get to it."
"There are many parts of this that I don't understand," Taneem said. "But you have never lied to me before. I will trust you."
Alison gazed out into the night, her throat tight. "Thank you," she managed. "We'd better stop talking now. If we happen on any patrols, it would be nice if we know it before they do."
* * *
Chapter 27
Privately, Draycos had expected it to be at least a week before the Golvin guards relaxed their watchfulness enough for him to risk another midnight excursion. To his mild surprise—and to Jack's obvious relief—barely two nights later, the K'da judged the time was right.
Man, are these guys amateurs, Jack's scornful thought echoed through Draycos's mind as the boy peeked out between the doorway streamers.
Draycos lifted his head from Jack's shoulder, brushing aside the partially open shirt with his snout. The two Golvins were seated side by side at the foot of the bridge, clearly visible in the moonlight, paying no real attention to the area around them as they chatted casually together in low voices. Their small bows rested against the sides of the bridge, the quivers propped alongside them. I told you these weren't a warrior people, he reminded Jack.
I know, but this is just ridiculous. The stream of thoughts paused, and Draycos sensed the boy trying to hide his anxiety. You sure you're going to be all right?
They will never see a thing, Draycos assured him. With a casual leap, he came out of the back of Jack's shirt. "I'll be back for you soon," he added quietly.
"Be careful," Jack warned. He looked out the door again and gave Draycos a thumbs-up.
Nosing his way between the streamers, the K'da slipped onto the bridge. He gave the area a quick scan, then turned halfway around and stretched up to the stone above the doorway. Setting his claws into the cracks and crevices, he started to climb.
He went up just far enough for his hind claws to get a grip of their own before changing direction and working his way horizontally around the pillar. When he reached the far side he turned head downward and climbed back down to the ground.
For a minute he paused there, crouched against the stone, his eyes probing as his tongue flicked out to taste the air. But except for the two guards lazing around on the opposite side of the pillar, the area was deserted.
The first thing on Draycos's list of things to do was to locate their transport. Fortunately, there were a dozen scents unique to flying vehicles, scents he could smell drifting along on the nighttime breezes. Keeping alert, he set off across the fields.
He found the Golvins' shuttle and Bolo's aircar together in a cavernous machine shop that filled the entire ground floor of the pillar farthest from the river. As usual with Golvin construction, the shop had no door, but both vehicles had been anchored to the floor with metal chains.
That, at least, would present no problem. Slipping inside, Draycos extended his claws and began working on the chains tying down the aircar. Within ten minutes, he had it freed.
Now came the tricky part.
The Golvins stationed beneath Langston's cliffside prison turned out to be no more alert than the ones back at Jack's apartment. Apparently, the novelty of nighttime guard duty, and the watchfulness Draycos had seen on his first visit, had worn off quickly after Langston's move to his new quarters.
Still, this time it wouldn't be just a poet-warrior of the K'da slipping in and out. This time, he would be attempting to smuggle out a full-sized human. Sternly warning himself against over-confidence, he climbed across the cliff to the cave mouth and slipped inside.
Langston was lying on his side on his cot, his back to the entrance as Draycos padded over to him. He reached out a paw to touch the man's shoulder—
"Draycos?" Langston murmured.
Draycos felt his tail twitch in surprise. "Yes," he murmured back. "You're a very light sleeper."
"I've been expecting you ever since I saw them lock up your Judge-Paladin," Langston said. "What's the story there?"
"The same as yours," Draycos said. "You're both victims of the fear created by an eleven-year-old threat."
"So what do we do about it?"
"We end it," Draycos said. "Tonight."
"Sounds good to me." Langston started to roll over.
"Wait," Draycos said, putting a restraining paw on the man's shoulder. "Before you look at me, I have to warn you that my appearance may shock you."
"Hey, in this light you could be covered with scabs and I'd never notice," Langston said. "No problem."
"I'm serious," Draycos said. "The guards outside aren't very alert, but even they would wonder at a startled shout coming from up here."
"I said no problem," Langston said, a little impatiently. "What's the big shocker?"
"I am a dragon."
There was a brief silence. "A dragon," Langston repeated, his voice flat.
"Actually, I'm a poet-warrior of the K'da," Draycos said. "But my appearance is that of a small dragon."
"Interesting," Langston said. "Can you fly and breathe fire?"
"Regretfully, no," Draycos said. "Both abilities could be very useful."
"I've always thought so," Langston said. "Okay, I'm ready."
He rolled over. Even in the dim light Draycos could see his face suddenly tighten. "Floos on a frissle. You weren't joking, were you?"
"Did you think I was?"
"Yeah, mostly." Langston reached out a hand, paused. "May I?"
"Certainly."
Gingerly, Langston touched the side of Draycos's neck. The touch steadied a little, and he ran his fingertips down the scales to Draycos's shoulder. "Well, if you're robotic, you're the best floosing robot I've ever seen."
"What would convince you I'm a living being?"
"Actually, right now I don't care what you are," Langston said. He threw off his blanket, and Draycos saw that he was fully dressed in a dark green jumpsuit and low boots. "Not as long as you get me out of here."
"That is the plan," Draycos agreed. "Collect anything you wish to take with you."
"It's collected," Langston said, reaching to the floor and picking up a handkerchief tied into a bundle. "How do we do this?"
"I climb sideways away from the cave," Draycos said. "You hold on to my tail."
"Ah," Langston said, sounding suddenly doubtful. "Your— uh—?"
"It will work," Draycos assured him. "You're not much bigger than my symbiont, Jack, and I have successfully carried him that way."
"Your symbiont?"
"Yes," Draycos said. "A symbiont is one who shares—"
"I know what it is." Langston shook his head. "I can see we're going to be having a long talk when this is over." Taking a deep breath, he stuffed his handkerchief bundle into the front of his shirt. "Let's do it."
The first stage of the journey was the hardest. Draycos had to climb quietly, without knocking any bits of stone onto the lounging Golvins below. More than that, he had to do it with a hundred and forty pounds of dead weight hanging on to his tail.
Fortunately, he'd done the trip enough times that he knew a route that would work. A few tense minutes later, they were safely away from the guards and starting down. A few minutes more, and they'd made it to the canyon floor.
"That was interesting," Langston said, crouching behind a cluster of tall grain plants as he rubbed at the cramped muscles in his hands. "What's next?"
"We collect our transportation, pick up Jack, and leave," Draycos told him. "Though flying through the canyon's many obstacles may be difficult in the dark."
"Don't worry about that," Langston assured him
grimly. "Just show me to the pilot's seat and get out of the way."
"The vehicles are across the river," Draycos said, pointing with his tongue. "The nearest bridge is this way."
They had made it across the cropland to the river and were nearly across the bridge when the nighttime silence was suddenly pierced by a warbling shriek.
Draycos leaped the rest of the way across the bridge, landing in a crouch on the far side. Langston was right behind him. "What the floos was that?" the human demanded.
"I would guess someone has discovered my sabotage," Draycos said, turning his head to look behind them. Across the canyon, shadowy figures were climbing rapidly up the cliff face toward Langston's former prison. "They're about to discover your absence, as well."
"Terrific," Langston growled. "What's Plan B?"
"The same as Plan A, only noisier," Draycos told him, flicking out his tongue. So far there didn't seem to be any Golvins between them and Jack's apartment. "We free Jack from his guards, attempt to fight our way through to the aircar, and escape."
"Simple, but lunatic," Langston said. Probing briefly into the river mud, he came up with a pair of fist-sized rocks. "After you."
Draycos headed off, angling their course so as to approach the pillar from the rear. Somewhere along the way, the K'da combat pattern kicked in, pumping extra blood into his muscles and turning his scales from gold to black.
But it was growing more and more clear that all the camouflage in the world would be of limited value. As they traveled, he heard a half dozen more of the shrieks, some from the direction of the vehicle shop, others from Langston's now empty prison.
The alarm was out. By the time they reached the pillar the whole canyon was starting to come awake.
"How many guards?" Langston whispered as they sidled around the cold stone toward the front.
"Two when I left," Draycos whispered back, slowing down. They rounded the final curve and came within view of the bridge.
To find that the two guards had been joined by two more. All four were standing alertly at the bottom of the bridge, two of them looking up toward Jack's door, the others looking back and forth across the area around them. All four had arrows out and nocked at the ready in their bowstrings.