by GARY DARBY
“Daron,” Phigby asks quietly, “these ‘unique dragons’ of which you speak, what kind of — ”
“I’ve said enough,” Daron responds curtly. “Now listen to me, all of you. If you tell me where the golden is, I may be able to save you.”
“Save us?” Cara answers. “Save us from what?”
Daron’s voice is a mere whisper, but I can feel its threat even from a distance. “Not from what, Cara.”
He takes in a raspy breath. “From her.”
Chapter 27
The instant Daron utters “her,” the image of Vay rushes into my mind like the frosty breath of a cold north wind. The evil hag leers at me, and I feel a chill sweep over my body as if I had thrown myself again into the spring creek back at Draconstead. Now I understand the golden’s warning; Vay is here or is coming, and soon.
I don’t know how I know that, but I do.
Is Daron conspiring with Vay? I can’t help but wonder, how is that possible? How could anyone follow her wickedness? Then I remember Phigby’s lesson with the stones. Daron has chosen to follow Vay, and she not only holds power, she wields life and death in her hands as well.
The thought that anyone would be in league with such a repugnant creature causes me to shudder, which makes the vine I’m standing on shake as well. Before the rustling becomes too loud, and I give myself away, I manage to stop my quaking.
From inside the room, I hear Cara say, “Her? Brother, what are you talking about?”
“Just this,” Daron replies in a hard tone, “unless one of you tells me where the golden is, I can’t save you. They’ll give you to her and believe me, that’s not what you want to happen.”
I hear fierce anger in Cara’s reply. “Daron, why are you doing this to me, to father? We’re your family.”
Before Daron can reply, I hear firm footsteps and a new voice. “That’s easy to answer, my dear. Simply put, your family cannot give Daron Dracon what he desires, above all else.”
I don’t recognize the new voice but after a few moments of silence, I hear, “And what is that, Prince Aster?” Helmar says almost with a sneer. “Wealth? A royal title, perhaps?”
Aster’s answering laugh is derisive. “Oh, nothing so banal, Helmar. Daron will have that and more once we get what really matters.”
“Which is?” Helmar asks.
“Power, of course,” Aster answers in a no-nonsense tone. “Absolute, unfettered power.”
Cara’s voice is like a knife slicing through the air. “It was you I saw in Draconstead at the birthing barn. You were the tall Wilder that led the attack. You had the Wilders kill all those innocent people.”
I can’t see, but somehow I can feel Prince Aster’s indifferent shrug. “Yes, unfortunately, sometimes those things just happen. But just so you’ll know, you actually helped plan the attack, you know.”
Cara’s voice is like a frozen river, ice cold, hard and harsh. “I did no such thing, and I would never help — ”
“Ah, but you did,” Aster is quick to interrupt. “The Winter Carola at the castle, remember? I admit you were a warm, pleasant armful to dance with but more so, you were so eager to answer my questions about Draconstead. The information I gleaned from you was invaluable in planning our attack.”
He paused and laughed loudly. “Oh, but I wish you could see the look on your face. Did you think that we invited you, your father, and Helmar, three commoners for any other reason?”
His laugh is sharp, almost shrill. “Oh, wait, you thought that I, as the second born, without obligation to marry royalty to keep the bloodline pure, was interested in you as a possible bride? That I was wooing you and that’s why you were at the ball?”
Aster laughs loudly again. “I am so sorry, Cara, but that thought never crossed my mind. Once I have the golden, I can have any woman, or women, for that matter, that I want. Perhaps then I may consider you as a royal consort, but not now. Not until we have the golden and all that goes with her.”
You beast! Cara’s voice is little more than a growl, but something in her tone makes me think that the prince’s comments hit close to the mark regarding the ball. Poor Cara, I think to myself, she thought the invitation came from a possible royal suitor, only it turns out it came from a royal traitor.
The room becomes quiet, and all I can hear is a low muttering. Then comes the sound of footsteps fading away as if someone has hurried from the chamber.
Prince Aster’s voice grows hard. “Enough of the idle chit-chat. Since Daron has failed to convince you to be reasonable, my approach will be a little different. It’s very straightforward.
“Where is the golden? Speak and you live. Remain silent and one of you will die while the others watch.”
“You wouldn’t dare!” Master Boren protests, “None but King Leo himself has the right to execute us.”
In a voice dripping with sarcasm, the prince says, “Then we won’t bother with the formality of petitioning His Majesty. He is getting on in age and does so need his rest these days.”
He waits, but no one answers. Then, with a snide air, he says, “Very well, since you choose to defy me — Daron, I will let you decide. Who dies?”
I hear the sounds of a struggle and then, “Get your hands off me!” Helmar furiously demands.
Cara yells, “No!”
Daron shoves Helmar’s head out the window. He struggles ferociously against Daron. Helmar has his head twisted toward the room and doesn’t see me just below the window sill.
“If you don’t want your beau to learn to fly without wings, sister,” Aster returns in a hard tone, “tell us where the golden is.”
“Don’t tell them!” Helmar chokes out.
Daron yanks Helmar back inside the room. “Last chance,” he says, “tell us, or so help me, I will throw him from this tower. Make no mistake, Cara, I would like nothing better since he’s so special to you. And to you too, right, father?”
Boren mutters in a voice that sounds as if he’s aged a hundred seasons, “Son, please, don’t do this. Don’t betray our family, don’t dishonor our name.”
I’ve heard enough, I can’t wait any longer. Cara and the others are in the hands of crazed maniacs and even if they knew where the golden was and could tell the prince, I have no doubt that he’s going to kill all of them.
I have no idea what I’m going to do, but right now, doing something is better than doing nothing. I rise up and squeak, “Wait! Stop. They can’t tell you where the golden is, only I can.”
Daron yanks Helmar around and backs away from the window, his eyes wide in astonishment. I scramble up onto the window sill and hop down to the floor. “They can’t tell you because she’s not where they left her.”
Prince Aster takes one look at me, his hand goes to his bandaged arm that’s in a sling, and he bawls, “You!”
“Uh, hi there, Prince Aster,” I stutter. “Yes, it’s me all right. As they say, it appears we meet again.” I edge away from the window and stand close to the nearest wall. As I do, I can feel Scamper edge out of my tunic hood and down my back. His sharp claws bite through the goat’s hair and I try not to wince as they prick my skin.
I point toward Aster’s injured arm. “Sorry about that arm, but you really have to be careful around dragons. They can be a bit temperamental at times and you just never know when they’re going to act up.
“Especially when they get a bit riled about what’s going on, you know, like when someone is trying to steal them in the middle of the night which means their sleep gets interrupted, which makes them really grumpy and — ”
“Shut up!” Aster shrieks as he draws his sword.
The sight of the sword makes me shut up — for the moment.
“Hooper,” Helmar growls, “what are you doing here?”
“Well,” I answer, my eyes never leaving Aster’s sword, “it appears that I’m here to rescue you, yon fair damsel, and everyone else, too. Especially Phigby, I like to read his books you know, not to mention he makes the
best fireworks in the whole kingdom.”
I’m babbling again, stalling for time as I try to think of a way out of this. “Of course, I’ll rescue Amil, too, just — ”
“Stop!” Prince Aster’s command stops me in mid-word. He takes several deep breaths as if to calm himself. His snicker is sharp, loud, and for some reason, reminds me of Hakon and Arnie’s sniggers. He wipes at his eye as if his laughter had brought a tear.
“You?” he sneers. “You are going to rescue your friends, all by yourself, I presume? By chance, you didn’t bring a Dragon Knight army along, just in case your audacious plan didn’t work out?”
“No,” I mutter, “it’s just me against you and Daron the Master Bully so I think that’s about all we’ll need.”
Scamper has reached the floor. I have no idea what the little tub is up to, but he moves so quietly, staying in the shadows, that it appears that neither the prince nor Daron has seen him.
“But I don’t need an army, because I have what you need, meaning Golden Wind. And I’m not going to tell you where she is until you let my comrades go and I know they’re safe and far away from the likes of you two.”
“Hooper, no,” Cara says. “Do you know what it means if they get their hands on the golden?”
I turn to her, scrunch my face together and answer, “Uh, from what I heard, more baby goldens?”
Her eyes and mine meet and she swings her eyes toward the corner where Amil and Phigby sit tied up. I get it. Scamper has managed to stay hidden and is now behind those two.
Suddenly, Helmar cries out angrily and lunges toward me, fighting against Daron’s restraint. “Hooper! Don’t you dare tell them where Golden Wind’s hidden. Don’t be a fool! Once they have their hands on her, nothing can stop them.”
He fights so ferociously that for a moment, I think that Daron can’t hold him and that Helmar is really going to attack me.
The two tussle in the middle of the room and then I see Prince Aster whip around his blade as if he would run Helmar through. Before he can, though, Amil suddenly flies over Cara and broadsides the prince, sending both of them to the floor in a heap.
Daron slams Helmar into the wall with a loud thud and springs away. Before Amil can stop him, he’s through the door and pounding down the stairs.
I reach over and pull Helmar to his feet. I pull out my knife blade and with a quick sawing motion, cut through the knotted bands. “Free the others,” he grinds out and rushes out the door in pursuit of Daron.
I jump over to Cara, who wears an expression of sheer shock at seeing me followed by anger at Prince Aster and her brother. While I’m sawing at Cara’s bindings, I hear Amil grunting behind me and turn.
He’s propped an unconscious Prince Aster up against the wall and huffs, “I guess I hit him too hard, knocked him out cold.”
He straightens and runs a hand over his bald head. “I suppose if the king hears about this it’ll be the chopping block for me. Attacking royalty, even corrupt ones, is a capital offense, you know.”
Cara’s bindings drop to the floor just as her father appears at her side. She stands and they embrace, both have tears in their eyes. A moment later, Helmar rushes back into the room. “I lost Daron,” he says, “but there’s a good chance that there are guards on their way.”
Phigby comes to stand beside Boren, rubbing at his wrist where the rope bindings had chafed. “Are we cut off?” he asks Helmar.
Helmar gives a quick nod to Phigby before he turns to me. “Well done, Hooper. You and Scamper played your parts extremely well.”
“As did you,” I reply. “For a moment there, if Daron hadn’t held you back, I thought you were going to beat me to a pulp.”
A corner of Helmar’s mouth turns up in a faint smile. “I was afraid that the prince would see right through that.”
“Royal arrogance,” I reply. “We’re the little people, we couldn’t possibly outsmart him.”
“Speaking of,” Phigby says as he gazes at the prone Aster. “What are we to do with him?”
“Barter,” Amil quickly says. “Our lives for his.”
“That may not work,” I reply. “He’s not the one in charge here.”
“What do you mean, Hooper?” Helmar asks. “Is King Leo here?”
“Didn’t you hear Daron?” I answer. “Even if His Majesty were here, I’m still not sure it would work.”
I turn to Phigby. “You heard Daron, didn’t you Phigby? He said that he was trying to save you from her. He could only be talking about Vay.”
“Vay?” Amil sputters. “She’s here?”
Phigby holds up a quick hand. “Or on her way. For the moment, let’s assume Hooper is right and we can’t use Aster as a bartering chip.” He turns to me and quickly asks, “How in the world did you get up here, Hooper, and can we escape the same way?”
“Well, I didn’t fly,” I answer and lead him over to the window and point down.
Helmar and Phigby crane their heads out the opening. “You climbed up that?” Helmar asks in an amazed voice.
“Like I said,” I reply, “I didn’t fly.”
They turn back to the open door and the spiral stairs. “We have one sword and a knife,” Phigby states. “That’s certainly not going to be much help against men-at-arms with bows and lances.” He lets out a forlorn sigh. “And they took my bag.”
“So we climb,” Helmar says.
He points at the door. “We need to find a way to block that, slow the guards up, even if it’s just a bit.”
I point to a small table in the corner. “Will that work?”
“Yes,” Helmar answers, and bounds over to the table. He hands the lone candle to Phigby, grabs the table, and turns it on end. After Amil slams the thick wooden door shut, Helmar jams one edge of the table against the door and the other end into a jagged stone edging on the floor.
He pushes it down firmly so that it forms a wedge between flooring and the sturdy entryway. “That won’t last for long,” he announces. “But it’s the best we can do.”
Amil gestures at Prince Aster’s limp body on the floor. “What about him?”
“My first inclination is to throw him out the window headfirst,” Helmar grunts. “That’s what he deserves, but unlike him, I’m no murderer.”
He turns to me. “Are those vines strong enough to hold the two of us if we carry him down?”
I firmly shake my head at him. “I wouldn’t if I were you, they’re not that stout.”
I can see the contortion in Helmar’s expression and understand his competing emotions. One part of him doesn’t want to leave the prince to be rescued by his conspiring comrades, but at the same time, he can’t bring himself to kill the man outright.
Phigby lays a hand on Helmar’s arm. “No choice, we’re not cold-blooded murderers, so we must leave him.”
Helmar turns to Cara and her father. “All right, down the vines, it is, then. Master Boren, you and Cara, first, then Phigby and Hooper. Amil and I will stay behind and try to give you additional time if the guards break the door down before you’re on the ground.”
“No,” I reply. “All of you have to go first.”
“Hooper,” Helmar responds through clenched teeth, “this is no time to argue.”
“No, Helmar,” I answer. “You don’t understand. This is the time to argue. I almost fell climbing up here because of my bad leg. Those vines aren’t that secure against the walls, if my leg gives out going down, there’s just the chance I’m going to rip through the shoots and bring down all of us.”
My eyes are firm, my mind made up. I am not going to endanger any of them, especially Cara.
“Helmar,” Phigby says sternly, “like you said, now’s not the time to argue. He has a valid point.”
With a sharp glance at me, Helmar turns and first helps Master Boren and then Cara through the window. Once they’re out, Phigby bundles his robe about him and slides through the opening followed by Amil.
Helmar sticks his head out the window
and peers below for a moment before he turns to me. “We’ll give them some time to get farther down.”
He gazes at me, and I can see in his eyes that he’s mulling over something in his mind. He slowly reaches out and places his hand on my shoulder. “Hooper, you are a surprising fellow, and I admit, braver than I gave you credit for. Even if this doesn’t work, you have my thanks.”
He touches his breast pocket where the gem had been. “For many things.”
My mouth sags for a moment. “You mean you still have it? I thought for sure that they would have taken it away from you.”
“No,” Helmar answers with a puzzled expression. “When the villagers captured us, they took our weapons, but made me put the emerald back into my tunic before they bound my hands. They acted as if they were afraid of the stone.”
“And when you arrived here?”
He shrugs. “We’ve been kept up here the whole time. There’s been a guard outside the door who checked on us every once in a while, but no one tried to take the jewel away.”
That causes me to raise my eyebrows. Aster and his henchmen wanted the golden, but not the emerald. Surely the villagers told His Majesty, the Royal Rat what Helmar carried.
I start to ask Helmar why he thought they hadn’t taken gemstone from him when he turns and peers out the window. “Master Boren is having a hard time of it. His stay in the dungeon must have weakened him.”
I poke my head out the window and look down. Cara is side by side with her father, helping him slowly down the lattice. He appears to be weak, uncertain of himself as he tries to find the next handhold or foothold. There’s nothing we can do but wait, hoping that they don’t take too long to reach the ground.
Fortunately, it appears that the guards on the keep walls haven’t noticed that their prisoners are escaping using the vine lattice. I turn and pick up Scamper, who after his rope-gnawing trick has been nosing around the room in search of food.
“Time to tuck you in,” I murmur as I pick him up. “By the way, that was a great job untying everyone like you did.”
Arrrrhhh, he answers as I tuck him into my tunic’s hood.