The Mark of the Dragonfly

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The Mark of the Dragonfly Page 12

by Jaleigh Johnson


  A flash of color saturated the white canvases. Piper tried to make out what was in the picture, but it disappeared too fast for her to see any details. Then the room fell into darkness, with only the tiny lights of the silver flowers shining on the walls. The sheets had gone completely black.

  “What’s happening?” Piper whispered, worried that Raenoll’s power wasn’t going to work. “What is that?”

  “Piper?” Anna sounded frightened. “What’s going on?”

  “Both of you be silent,” Raenoll said sharply. “Concentrate, and keep your eyes closed, child.”

  Anna whimpered softly. Piper perched on the edge of the bench, resisting the urge to go over and slap the sarnun’s tentacles away from the girl.

  A rush of motion passed over the dark canvases, and the blackness shrank to become a massive building made up of gray stone blocks. Piper squinted, trying to make sense of the new picture, which took up almost all the blank space on the sheets and filled the room with a gloomy haze.

  Iron staircases ran up and down the sides of the building, and a film of dirt covered the few windows offset in the stone. There were trees surrounding the structure—their branches a mix of dead and living leaves, as if the shadow of the building was gradually suffocating them. Piper finally realized what the building was when she saw the thick black smoke rising from chimneys along its roof, and her stomach dropped.

  Piper coughed as if trying to expel phantom smoke from her lungs. Her father had been too kind in his drawing of the factory. The image on the walls was a place of despair.

  “That’s Noveen,” Piper said, trying to keep the sadness out of her voice. “We were right, Anna. You’re from the capital.” She didn’t mention the factory or the deadly smoke.

  Another flurry of motion crossed the walls, and the factory shrank to reveal a bird’s-eye view of the city. Piper watched as the land rose, leaving behind the haze of factory smoke, up a cliff side and over to a view of the ocean. The beauty of it, such a sharp contrast to the factory, stole her breath. It was so stunning she hoped for the image to widen so she could get a better view of the blue-green expanse, but the view stopped on a beautiful mansion situated at the top of the cliff. White stonework and columns formed the backdrop for a vibrant garden and a large stone fountain in front of the house. Unlike the factory, the mansion was all lightness and windows, and there wasn’t a hint of smoke to mar the pristine landscape.

  Was that Anna’s home? Piper didn’t want to disturb Raenoll by asking the question. She figured that it had to be her house, though. Anna’s fancy yellow dress, and the money she’d been carrying—this was exactly the kind of place where Piper expected someone like her to live.

  The mansion faded, and this time the sheets stayed blank. Raenoll lifted her feelers from Anna’s head and sighed. “You may open your eyes, child. You did very well.”

  Anna opened her eyes and blinked sleepily up at the sarnun. She seemed calmer now too. Piper checked her watch. They’d been here for almost an hour, though it had felt like only a few minutes. The 401 wouldn’t leave for a while yet, but they needed to be heading back before it got any later. “Is that all you see?” she asked Raenoll.

  The sarnun nodded. “As I told you, with people, there are many uncertainties.”

  At least she’d confirmed that Piper was doing the right thing by taking Anna to Noveen. Piper was reassured by that, but on the other hand, they’d learned nothing about who the man from the caravan was or why he was after Anna. Piper had hoped they might get some clue there.

  “We need to go,” Piper said, glancing nervously at her watch again. “We should get back to the train.”

  Anna stood up, looking at Piper worriedly. “What did she see?” she asked.

  “Someplace good,” Piper assured her. “I’ll tell you about it later—when we get back on the train. Thanks for all your help,” she told the sarnun.

  “Before you go,” Raenoll said, “may I speak to you alone?” She glanced at Anna. “Wait at the bottom of the stairs, child. I won’t keep your friend long.”

  Anna looked at Piper uncertainly, as if she was nervous about leaving her. Piper wondered why Raenoll wanted to send the girl out of the room when she could just speak directly into Piper’s mind. She hesitated, then nodded toward the door. “Go ahead, Anna. I’ll be right behind you.”

  “All right,” Anna said reluctantly. She left the room, disappearing down the hall.

  Piper waited nervously for Raenoll to speak. Could she have seen something else, something that she hadn’t put on the walls? she wondered. The sarnun’s expression was impossible to read, but her feelers had again adopted that swaying, considering motion, as if she was choosing her words very carefully.

  Piper’s nervousness made her impatient. “So?” she asked. “Why do you have to talk to me alone? Couldn’t you just say what you wanted to say into only my mind?”

  “Yes,” Raenoll said carefully. “But humans often have poor control over their emotional responses. I was afraid your face would give you away, and I did not want to alarm the child.”

  Piper’s stomach twisted. “Alarm her with what?” she asked.

  “That child is very fragile,” Raenoll said. “You should know that if you abandon her, she will certainly die.”

  Piper sank back down on the bench, clutching the edge for support. Raenoll was right. Her expression would have given her away. She leaned toward the sarnun. “But how can you know that? You said there were too many uncertainties.”

  The sarnun’s feelers didn’t move, but Piper somehow sensed the woman’s confusion. “There are. I have tried to read human destinies before, but she is by far the most difficult subject I have encountered. None of it is clear, except that the two of you are connected. She needs you.” Raenoll paused, and for a long moment, her mind voice was silent. “There is something strange about her, but I sense she is valuable. That is why you are helping her, I assume?”

  Piper felt her face flush. “Maybe you don’t know as much as you think.”

  The sarnun’s feelers became utterly still. “I sense the reward you will receive for helping the child get to Noveen will be greater than anything you can imagine.” Her mind voice was flat, cold. Piper felt a tremor go through her body, a feeling similar to what she’d experienced when she saw Anna’s money belt. But the sarnun wasn’t finished speaking. “It will also be horrifying to you. Neither of you will be able to stand it.”

  Knots of fear and anger welled up in Piper. “Well, isn’t that nice? So what you’re saying is, if I leave Anna, she’s going to die, but if I help her, something terrible is going to happen to us anyway? What kind of a stupid destiny is that?”

  The sarnun shook her head. “It may not happen that way.”

  Piper stood up, her hands clenched into fists. “Can you try to be more specific, then, or do you just enjoy playing around in people’s heads?” She kept her voice down so it wouldn’t carry out to the hallway, but her body shook with anger.

  “You know nothing about me, scrapper child,” Raenoll said, but there was no anger in her words. “If I could see a clear path, I would point you to it. I know you are afraid—”

  “Of course I’m afraid!” Piper said in a strangled voice. “Anna’s depending on me. There’s a man who’s ready to kill me to get to her, and my only plan was to get her to Noveen first so she’d be safe. Fine, so maybe I do want a reward, but why not? After that, she’ll be safe and taken care of, and I’ll be alone again!” She covered her mouth, realizing what she’d said, but it was too late to stop the words.

  Piper turned and ran from the room.

  The sarnun’s mind voice followed her into the hall. “Do not be rash, child. You are strong enough to save your friend. Do so on your own terms.”

  “I don’t know how,” Piper said miserably. She waited, hoping the sarnun would reply, offer her help, reassurance … something.

  But Raenoll’s voice faded, and Piper was alone in her head.

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nbsp; Anna was sitting on the steps waiting for her. Piper didn’t pause, just pulled her to her feet by the bend of her elbow as she went past. “Let’s get out of here,” she said, and Anna seemed eager to follow.

  Of course she wants to go with me, Piper thought. Didn’t I tell her to trust me? Except it didn’t matter whether Piper was worthy of that trust or not—either way, according to the sarnun, something bad was going to happen.

  At the top of the stairs, Piper shoved the alley door open angrily. To her surprise, the door shoved back, hitting her shoulder with enough force to knock her off balance. Before Piper could recover, an arm snaked around the door and grabbed her, pulling her roughly into the dark alley. Another arm covered her mouth so she couldn’t scream. And from somewhere next to her, she heard Anna utter a frightened squeak that quickly cut off.

  Piper clawed at the arm holding her, scratching at it like a wild animal. Her attacker cursed, but he didn’t let go. Piper tried to elbow him in the stomach, but he quickly pinned her arms to her sides with his free hand. He hauled her deeper into the alley, where another man waited in the shadows. Piper caught a brief glimpse of a dirty, unshaven face before the hand at her mouth fell away and a dark hood came down over her head. She felt hot breath at her ear, and a voice whispered, “If you scream or try to run, your friend’s going to get hurt. Remember that.” Piper stiffened, but she made no sound. Other arms grabbed her ankles and lifted her off her feet.

  She heard the rattle of carriage wheels from farther down the alley. As the sound drew closer, Piper smelled the heavy scent of horse sweat and heard the whuffing sound of the beasts’ breathing. A door opened somewhere to her right, and the men lifted her up and set her down on her back on something soft. A few seconds later, she heard a thump and Anna’s soft whimper. The men had put her in the carriage too, probably on the seat across from Piper.

  “Tie their hands and feet,” a voice called from somewhere above her—likely the carriage driver.

  “Been a lot easier just to use the dust,” said the man who’d been holding her. Three voices chuckled. There were at least four of them, and there was no doubt about it, they were slavers. They must have followed them to Raenoll’s place and waited for them there. Piper’s heart beat frantically in her chest as she fought to stay calm.

  “Man said no dust—least he paid us extra to do it the hard way,” said the driver.

  Piper froze. The man. It had to be the man from the caravan. But how had he found them? Piper felt a burst of fresh panic. She wasn’t sure which was worse: being sold on the slave market or being delivered right into the wolf’s hands.

  One of the slavers grabbed her ankles, lashing them together so tightly she winced in pain. He did the same with her hands, and as he drew away, his fingers brushed her weighted coat pocket.

  “Well, well. What’s this here?” The slaver reached inside Piper’s coat and yanked out Anna’s money belt. She could hear the coins jangle as he pawed through it and whistled softly. “It’s all gold, every bit of it. Who are these two?”

  “Doesn’t matter who they are,” said the driver. “Take the gold—we’ll divide it up later. Let’s get going.”

  It was only a moment until the door slammed shut and the carriage began to move. Piper listened, but she didn’t hear any of the other men. She and Anna were alone in the carriage. “Anna, can you hear me?” she whispered.

  “Yes.” The muffled voice came from the other side of the carriage.

  They’d tied her hands behind her back, but the hood was a little loose, so Piper turned on her side and used the edge of the seat to work the cloth off her head. She breathed in fresh air, shook her hair away from her face, and looked around.

  She was lying on a padded bench in an enclosed carriage. Heavy black curtains covered the windows. The only light came from a small sprig of night eyes in a pot fastened to the carriage door. Anna lay on the bench across from her, hooded, her hands and feet similarly tied.

  “Don’t worry,” Piper whispered. “I’m going to get us out of here.”

  “Chances aren’t good,” Anna said breathlessly. “The knots are too tight. Cow hitch, square knots, perfect loops—we’re the cows, and they’re taking us to the slaughter.”

  “That’s good,” Piper said. “Keep talking strange—that way I’ll know that you’re not panicking.”

  “I’m scared.” The girl’s voice was smaller and it made Piper’s chest feel tight.

  “I am too,” Piper admitted. She levered herself upright on the bench. Anna was right. The knots were tight; her fingertips were already starting to go numb. She looked down at her feet and saw a glimmer of metal at her waist. Her breath caught. “I don’t believe it,” she whispered.

  “What is it?” Anna angled her hooded face toward Piper.

  “They didn’t take my knife,” Piper said. “Idiots must not have seen it on my belt, or they were too distracted taking your gold. Anna, try to sit up if you can, and lean toward me. We have to hurry.”

  “I’ll try.” Anna pushed herself up clumsily to a sitting position and leaned forward. “Like this?”

  “Perfect.” Piper pivoted until she got her fingertips on the hood covering Anna’s head. She pulled it off and then slid to the edge of the bench. “Turn around and see if you can get your fingers on my knife.”

  Anna knelt on the floor of the carriage and turned, straining to reach Piper’s belt. The carriage hit a bump; Piper was sent sprawling back against the seat and Anna banged her head against the window. The road was getting rougher, which told Piper that they must be headed out of the city. And that they were running out of time.

  Anna leaned back and grasped the knife handle. “I’ve got it,” she whispered excitedly.

  “Great, now try to hold the blade with the point toward me. Let’s see if we can saw these ropes off.”

  Anna hesitated for a moment, then her words came fast. “But, Piper, taking into consideration the speed of the carriage we’re traveling in combined with the roughness of the terrain, having an exposed knife within inches of your skin—”

  “Yes, yes,” Piper hissed, “sharp knife, bumpy carriage, high risk of stabbing—all bad. We’re already in it up to our ears, might as well pile on some more trouble.”

  “Right. Sorry.” Anna gripped the knife handle and turned the blade parallel to the floor. “Ready,” she said.

  Bracing herself as best she could between the bench and the floor, Piper reached back and rubbed her bound wrists against the exposed knife blade. She could feel the fibers snapping and the tension loosening. Thankfully, she always kept her knife sharp, and the ropes fell away quickly, though she also managed to slice up the sleeves of her dad’s coat again, undoing all of Ms. Varvol’s repair work.

  She massaged some feeling back into her wrists and turned and took the knife from Anna. “Try to hold still,” she said. She cut the ropes from Anna’s wrists in two neat slices and then went to work on their feet. A minute later, they were both free.

  “Should we try to jump out?” Anna asked, nodding at the door.

  Piper pushed back one of the curtains and looked outside. Moonlight shone on open fields and scattered tree copses. In the distance was Tevshal, the lights still shining brightly against the darkness.

  “We’re not far from the city,” she said, “but the carriage is moving pretty fast.” Piper ran through their options. If they jumped, they could walk back to Tevshal—it was dark enough that they might not be noticed. But if they hit the ground wrong, one or both of them could end up with a broken leg, which would leave them at the mercy of whoever found them. The other option was a long shot. “If we can get to the driver, knock him off his seat somehow, we could take the carriage back to town.”

  Anna opened her mouth to reply, but whatever she was going to say was lost in a loud crash. The carriage tipped sideways, throwing Piper and Anna against the windows. The driver shouted in alarm at the same time something heavy banged against the carriage roof right above
Piper’s head, and the carriage came to a dead stop.

  “Are you all right?” Piper whispered, helping Anna sit up.

  “I think so.” Anna was dazed and bleeding from a shallow cut on her forehead. Piper wiped away the blood and checked her over quickly, then scrambled for the door and kicked it open.

  “We’re going to make a run for it,” Piper said. “Stay close!” She jumped to the ground and turned back, offering the smaller girl her hand.

  Anna took it and hopped out. “What hit the carriage?” she asked.

  Piper pulled her along the side of the carriage to avoid being seen, but the driver was gone, and so were the horses. The driver’s seat had three long, deep gouges in the wood that looked like claw marks, and the carriage roof had a huge dent in its center. Piper stared at the marks and a shiver of fear ran down her back.

  “Could have been a dravisht raptor,” she said. “I hear some of them have claws as long as your arm.”

  Anna’s mouth fell open. “If it carried off a full-grown man with an average weight of a hundred and seventy-five pounds, taking into account the length of the claws, I calculate the size of the raptor has to be—”

  “Forget I said that,” Piper cut in. She didn’t want to think about how big the creature might be. “Whatever it is, we don’t want to be here when it comes back.”

  Piper grabbed Anna by the arm and pulled her away from the carriage. They took off across the field toward the city. The wind blew cold on Piper’s face as she ran, though it wasn’t nearly as biting as she was used to in her scrap town by the mountains.

  The night air burned in Piper’s lungs, and after a few minutes, both girls were panting. If they were going to make it to the city, they would have to rest, but the moonlight was too bright and the field too exposed to stop out in the open, so she angled west, heading for a copse of trees.

  Ducking among the dense oaks and pikas, Piper slowed and let Anna catch her breath. “We’ll stay here a minute,” she said as she lifted one of the pika’s low branches aside. They grew right down to the ground, and their bluish leaves effectively blotted out the moonlight overhead. Anna followed and sat down beside her. Above them, Piper could hear bird rustlings, and a night-hawk cried out, then took flight. “Somebody doesn’t want to share his tree.” Piper laughed, but she was too tired to put much heart into it.

 

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