The Dragondain

by Richard Due

  He took off at a jog for the third floor. He had one more task before leaving for the Moon Realm.

  Mr Phixit’s table had a small, dim lamp that always remained on. It was just strong enough to light the project boxes, where Job 247ab6 sat unfinished, a dark shadowy lump.

  Jasper fished out the ring he had taken from the cloakroom, while with his other hand he reached up to the keyboard and . . . caught air!

  “What in the—”

  “Greetings, young master,” came a soft, almost whispering voice. It was a voice Jasper had never heard before, emanating from a small speaker mounted where the keyboard used to be. Mr. Phixit’s arms swung around, the small lights on them flaring to life as he swept the landing and room with his video cameras. Jasper had never seen him do this before. In the past, he had only been concerned with what was on his table.

  “What—what happened to your keyboard?”

  “Upgrades. As per your and Lily’s request. And I do advise you lower your voice.”

  “And why would that be?” asked Jasper, lowering his voice.

  “I have calculated your life may be in grave danger.”

  “How? What are you talking about?”

  “There are currently two uninvited guests within the mansion. One is asleep. The other, however, is efficiently combing through the rooms on the floor below us. She must have detected your footsteps on the stairs, or possibly your entering the great hall. She’s quite the light sleeper—”

  “There are burglars here?”

  “I believe the more accurate term is squatters.”

  “But why do you think she’s a danger to me?”

  “She’s carrying a katana.”

  “She’s carrying a Japanese samurai sword?”

  “Correct. And by all appearances, one of authentic make. Why, by its length, I would place it in the early- to mid-16th century, perhaps made by—”

  “Drawn?”

  “Correct.”

  “And you can see her?” Jasper nervously glanced over his shoulder. “How?”

  “To answer your first questions: yes, but not at all times. To answer your second question: I am able to view her through the eyes of my—the electrimals. I can connect to them and look through their eyes, even when they are drawing but a tiny trickle of electricity. In fact, I have the ability to monitor many of the manor’s electronic components. For example, I—”

  “Where is she now?”

  “She has finished the second floor of South Hall and three-quarters of North. She is currently working through the rooms on the east side, heading toward the stairwell. Taking into account her methodology and current speed, I believe she will be moving up to this floor in less than five minutes.”

  Jasper quickly placed the ring on Mr. Phixit’s work table.

  “Mr. Phixit, identify.”

  Mr. Phixit’s arms swung to the table and examined the ring.

  “The moon ring of Taw.”

  “You know items from the Moon Realm?”

  “I know what I am programmed to know.”

  “What can you tell me about it?”

  “The moon ring of Taw was the first of the nine ambassadorial moon rings to be forged—”

  “Does it have the power to translate languages?” Like in the bedtime tales?

  “Yes.”

  “Can it summon the raven Kara?”

  “At the appropriate times, and for the appropriate people, Kara will take form, bearing the wearer upon her back for—”

  Jasper pocketed the ring and unbuckled his sword. “Mr. Phixit, identify.”

  “The moon sword of Rel’ Kah, the fifth of the nine swords to be forged. It can be identified by the moon phases on the tips of its cross-guards. Lost at the battle of Dwijnen, it was presumed destroyed or captured, surfacing only in modern times when presented to your uncle by Jimzle himself for valorous conduct—strictly against the wishes of Fa—”

  “Mr. Phixit,” Jasper laid the moon coin on the work table. “Duplicate this item.”

  There was a pause. “Unable to comply.”

  “Why? Do you require parts?”

  “My talents were used to assist in building this device, but I do not possess all the necessary knowledge or craft to duplicate this device.”

  “Mr. Phixit, did the moon ring of Taw play a part in the moon coin’s ability to translate languages?”

  “The moon coin’s translation ability is one of the functions of which I have no working knowledge.”

  Jasper thought for a beat. “Is that because it involves magic?”

  “As I do not understand the working of magic, that is a distinct possibility. But you must leave now. May I suggest you run up the half flight to the fourth floor? If she continues her current pattern, she will search this room completely. When she moves to the far wall—Wait! The other has left her room and is calling out now.”

  Jasper heard a faint voice from the stairwell.

  “They are moving towards each other . . . they’re talking . . . they’re moving downstairs.”

  “Why would they do that?”

  “Uncertain. However, it is possible they have headed for the kitchen.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  “Shortly after your arrival, I powered up Finder and set him loose for some mischief in the kitchen pantry. Perhaps they have finally heard him.”

  “Did she finish searching the entire second floor?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, I’ll go down and hide in one of the rooms near the stairwell. After they realize it’s just Finder, they’ll probably resume their search. I should hear them passing on their way up. Then I’ll run down to the great hall and exit through the garden.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” And in this statement, Jasper could hear Mr. Phixit parroting of one of Uncle Ebb’s axioms. Hearing this little bit of Ebb in Mr. Phixit’s programming made Jasper smile.

  “Mr. Phixit, can you read?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can you read through Finder’s eyes?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Starting tomorrow, and without being observed, I want you to send Finder into Ebb’s library and learn everything you can, understood?”

  Mr. Phixit dimmed his lights and shined his video cameras into Jasper’s face.

  “It would be a great privilege, young master. Thank you.”

  “Yeah, well, make the most of it. All right?”

  “I will do my very best.”

  Jasper put on the necklace and tucked the moon coin out of sight under his vest before padding down the stairwell. Running down the hall, holding his sword so as to not make any noise, he ducked through the doorway of the room adjacent to the stairs. It was dark and filled with drafting tables. He slid behind the door and took hold of his sword. Having proven his lack of aptitude with the sword on Dain, he didn’t figure his chances to be all that good if the intruder was as skilled as he assumed—but he wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

  A minute later, Oscar, the winged, fuchsia-colored seahorse, fluttered into the room. Jasper whistled softly and Oscar veered to him, alighting on his shoulder.

  “Are you in there too, Mr. Phixit?” Jasper asked in a whisper.

  Oscar nodded his head once and winked an eye.

  “Are they still downstairs?”

  Oscar nodded again.

  “All right, then. We wait.”

  Jasper counted silently to a hundred seven times before he finally heard footsteps. They were stealthy, but there was no mistaking them. What he couldn’t tell was if he was listening to the sound of one person or two people.

  After several more minutes had passed, Jasper looked at Oscar. “One or two?” he whispered
.

  Oscar nodded his head once.

  “Just one?”

  Oscar nodded his head.

  Jasper wondered how much time the person would spend on the third floor and whether she would continue on to the fourth. For the second time tonight, he contemplated leaving straightaway via the moon coin from his uncle’s house. But he worried about being seen as he vanished. What if these two women understood how the moon coin worked? They could lie in wait, set a trap. They could build a cage around the area he left from. That would never do. He had to be able to return to Earth safely. He could take no risks on that account, no matter how small.

  Slowly, Jasper edged out from behind the door and silently descended the stairs. Rounding the newel post, he crept toward the French doors. It was a long hall, and there were many open doorways through which he could be spotted. Jasper was grateful for the dark; the coral walls barely flickered. Suddenly, a woman stepped out of the last remaining doorway, drawing her sword and taking a fighter’s stance.

  “Tay?” she said. “Is that you?”

  Jasper halted. She was mostly a shadow, not more than a dozen feet from where he stood.

  “Who are you?” she demanded, her voice surprisingly young.

  Beneath his cloak, hidden by the darkness, Jasper reached for his sword.

  “Go for that blade, and I will cut you in two where you stand,” she said, advancing.

  With an explosion of wings, the birdfish erupted from their perches and swarmed the woman—glub-whistling, gurgle-chirping, and burble-squawking for everything they were worth. Her blade sang back and forth through the air. Quivering halves of birdfish flopped onto the floor about her feet. Oscar screeched and launched himself into the melee. Seeing this as his big chance, Jasper feinted to the right and skimmed the wall, running as fast as he could. The woman, sensing his movements, turned to face him as he passed, but the birdfish increased their attack, concentrating around her eyes. Turning, she stumbled after him, toward the gardens, where the birdfish were not programmed to go. Jasper fled into the night, making for the barn, and hoped Mr. Phixit could override the birdfish’s programming and bring them outdoors.

  Everything was happening so fast. Jasper thought quickly: he could try to escape on foot, or he could take the bike. Either way would be risky. But he knew that if he could get to the bike before the woman could get clear of the birdfish, he would get away for sure.

  He decided to go for it. Jasper ran into the barn. It was pitch black, and he lost time groping for the bike and spinning it around. But just as he was set to charge out and hop into the saddle, he heard footsteps on the paving stones. A second later she came into view, standing directly in front of the open door.

  “Come out and you won’t be harmed,” she commanded.

  Jasper didn’t believe her for a second. He paused, weighing the option of throwing the bike at her and making a run for it. Suddenly, he sensed an object of immense weight shifting around within the barn, slowly . . . stealthily. . . . Frozen with fear, he felt the thing brush past his leg.

  A roar split the night air. Jasper’s blood chilled in his veins and his nerve endings popped and jangled. He fought to remain upright and not curl up into a fetal ball. The space between Jasper and the woman filled with the dark bulk of the unfinished electrimal-Rinn. Its gait was unnatural, since only three of its legs were in working order, but it compensated for this deficiency wonderfully, and its grace of movement, given its enormous size, seemed impossible. The woman staggered backward as the electrimal-Rinn charged out of the barn, raising a paw the width of a tree trunk. Jasper sprinted from the barn, pushing his bike before him to get it going. Leaping into the air, he swung a leg over and landed hard on the seat, getting his bearings just in time to peel off toward the path leading through the trees and off the egg. The night branches reached out and clawed his face as he pushed for pure speed.

  Climbing through the gears, Jasper held a breakneck pace until his lungs seared from the pain. His heart pounded against his ribcage, and still he pushed for more as he raced through the moonlit fields and steered for a distant stand of trees. His legs burned with the effort, but he continued as though his life depended on it.

  And then he was in the trees. Wanting to put as much distance as possible between himself and the bike, he ditched it, then took off on foot. Still running, he reached under his vest for the moon coin.

  Palming the pendant and unlatching the fob with a flick of his thumb, he watched ten silvery circles wink into existence: one for each body of the Moon Realm and one for Earth. Unable to run any longer, Jasper halted. His lungs heaved; his body was covered in sweat. With a trembling finger, he spun the inner circle of moons until the pointer on the fob hovered over Barreth. But his twitching fingers overshot the mark. Glancing up, he looked behind him, searching for any sign of movement from the direction of Ebb’s mansion. He saw nothing.

  He spun the moons around again, missing Barreth a second time before finally aligning the pincher properly. Quickly, he double-checked the setting and snapped the fob shut.

  Jasper glanced back up the trail, even as he felt the first effects of the moon coin taking hold. Was that a shadow, moving apart from the trees? His vision blurred. He struggled to focus more clearly. Why hadn’t he lain down in the grass? he thought.

  And then he was gone.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Second Battle of Fangdelve

  Jasper landed off balance, coming down chest first on hard-packed dirt. He rolled to his side and tried to breathe, but his lungs fought him, and he curled up into a ball. He gasped for air, only slowly and painfully regaining his breathing.

  Even with his vision blurred, Jasper knew he was just outside the Ridgegate; the moon coin had returned him to the exact place from which he had departed. But his vision cleared quickly, and he soon beheld a sky the color of ash. Struggling to his feet, he saw the floor of the valley blanketed by a sea of dust. So thick was the stuff that aside from the top of the earth mound encircling Sea Denn, the only other landmark he could make out was Fangdelve, looming in the distance. The tower rose above the dark fog like a gray smudge against the sky, black oily smoke trailing from its upper reaches. Diving in and out of the dust were great flying objects that, at first glance, looked like helicopters. Dozens of them buzzed into and out of the mists, belching great gouts of fire seemingly at will. Jasper leaned over the parapet and stared.

  “The fire-breathing dragonflies!” he said aloud. They looked enormous, even from this distance.

  Jasper turned to face the Ridgegate. It was open and seemed eerily abandoned. Glancing to the upper ramparts, Jasper looked for Rinn, but all was quiet. A bird, which couldn’t have been more than a few feet from where he stood, fluttered into the sky, startling him. It was one of the larger ones, with bright orange plumage. He tracked it for a time, watching it soar upward toward the palace keep.

  Jasper dusted off his riding cloak and took a step toward the gate.

  “It must be him,” said a birdish voice from behind.

  “We have to be sure,” said a second, different birdish voice.

  Jasper turned on his heel and saw two enormous black birds perched on the jagged rock that marked the first turn of the switchbacks.

  “Can I help you?” Jasper asked.

  The two birds exchanged glances, then stared at Jasper.

  “Tell us your name,” commanded the one on the left.

  Jasper wasn’t sure he liked their look or manner. “I don’t have time for this. I must find Greydor or Nimlinn.”

  “Greydor has fallen,” stated the bird on the right.

  Jasper’s felt his stomach clench. “He’s dead?”

  “Mortally wounded. And Nimlinn refuses to leave his side,” stated the bird on the left.

  “You sound like you don’t approve,�
�� said Jasper

  “A bird without tail feathers drifts in the wind.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Look around you. Sea Denn has been abandoned by all but the leader of the flock.

  “But if Sea Den is abandoned, where did all the Rinn . . .” Jasper’s eyes fell on the valley below. “What’s going on down there?”

  “This battle is now in its third day. All goes badly. Now tell us, what is your name?” The bird sounded far too impatient.

  Jasper turned his back on them and made for the open Ridgegate.

  “We’ve been waiting for you,” called one temptingly.

  Jasper continued toward the gate.

  “Lord Tanglemane bid us to wait for your arrival,” added the other quickly.

  Jasper turned back to them. “Lord Tanglemane?”

  “Name,” snapped the first bird.

  “Orders are orders,” grumbled the other.

  Jasper strode back, eying the birds suspiciously, and placed his hand on the moon sword’s grip. “My name is Jasper Winter.”

  The birds nodded their heads in unison.

  “Now, tell me, where is Tanglemane?”

  “Dead, most likely.”

  “What?” Jasper staggered backward, then turned to stare dumbly over the edge of the battlement at the sea of dust covering the valley.

  “The scaramann have seized the valley. The dragonflies control the skies.”

  “But I thought Greydor had killed the scaramann queen, that the only scaramann still alive were trapped in Fangdelve. What happened?”

  “We do not understand it ourselves, but the valley is once again filled with scaramann, hatching out of the ground fully grown.”

  “And the Rinn? Are they all in the valley?”

  “They meant to retake Fangdelve today, but the scaramann surprised them, rising up from shallow tunnels. The Rinn fought them back for a time, but they are losing now, and more bugs are hatching everywhere. Soon there will be nowhere to run.”