The Last Dragon: Book Three

by LeRoy Clary

  I knew it was but one of a dozen such artificial lakes, each with a lock that allowed boats to move freely from one to the next. Dagger lay downriver.

  We turned in the direction of Dagger at the road, the river or lake spread into the distance on our right. The people we passed noticed my hands tied when I held them up in silent pleas for help, but their eyes always shifted away. Not a single one offered to help questioned my captor or had spoken up for me. I quit drawing attention and rode with my head down, looking defeated for the benefit of my captor. Lulling him worked to my favor or would when I made my break for freedom.

  Not that I blamed most of the travelers for their lack of reaction. They were farmers and peaceful people who stood no chance of challenging my captor. They sensed it. I knew it.

  We turned off the road and followed a small lane to a hut built on the end of a point of land that jutted out onto the lake. Two boats were tied to a rickety dock a generation or two old. A gnarled man with a bent back emerged and spat in the sand, as he’d probably done countless times as he sized us up.

  He said, “The ferry will be here after first-light. You can make camp over there,” his thumb jerked to indicate a bare strip of rock with no soil to till. “Cost you a crown for each, two for the horses to pay for the grass they’ll eat. Don’t leave a mess for me to clean up, hear?”

  “Expensive for renting a little piece of dirt for a night,” my captor snarled.

  “Should charge you double because of your sour attitude,” the old man growled, not intimidated or backing down despite his age. “Find another place if you like.”

  Coins had exchanged hands. It was obvious they knew each other, and half the animosity was due to a long acquaintance. They enjoyed the bickering.

  However, my mind was on other things. If we got on the ferry, there would be no way to get off until we reached Dagger, and that was not the way I wanted to reach the city. Being paraded through the streets while being held a prisoner removed any bargaining power I had.

  I said, “The offer for my freedom is still good. You can be a rich man.”

  “And dead,” he answered as he started unloading our bedrolls. “Hard to spend a fortune when you’re sleeping in a hole under the sand.”

  At least he was more talkative. With the ferry arriving in the morning, I had only one option. Tonight, I’d have to escape. I gave him a reassuring smile. “I’m sure you can take care of yourself in an emergency.”

  We spread our blankets beside a fire pit overflowing with the remains of previous fires, but there was no wood in sight, and my captor didn’t seem inclined to fetch any. My offer to do it would be refused and perhaps tip my hand, so I ate more salted, dried meat and finished another jar of water as the sun sank beyond the desert.

  If it had not been under the circumstances I found myself in, the combination of stars and lantern lights dancing off the calm water would have been enjoyable. The air seemed to pick up moisture from the lake and held it in the air, making it comfortable instead of the dry heat that sucked the sweat from my skin.

  My eyes found a rock lining the fire pit the size of my fist. It was near the top edge where I could reach it in the dark. One swing at his head would either knock him out or kill him—I didn’t care which.

  The problem was, then what?

  I glanced at the obvious answer. The horses. The packs held more water, but the lake also provided more than enough when we needed to refill our bottles. I’d noticed the heavy weight of his purse. That would also leave with me. The shards of broken pottery where I’d placed my blanket had already allowed me to slip three in easy reach, each with a sharp side that would easily cut the ropes.

  My biggest fear was not in doing what I must, but of falling asleep while pretending to do so. If that happened, I’d be on that ferry in the morning, and then in Dagger facing whoever paid my captor to take me there. That was a fate I refused to accept.

  I breathed deeply, pretending sleep while listening to the man a few steps away. He sat and watched the lake at first, walked around the camp, and later joined a pair of other arrivals with their tales and joined in the laughter. I almost nodded off once and berated myself, but eventually, he returned and checked my bindings before settling in.

  In what seemed only an instant, he was snoring, so fast I doubted he was really asleep. I waited. The other men at the next fire pit had quieted, and I assumed they were also asleep. I waited some more.

  Finally, I used the edge of a shard and scraped it against the ropes on my wrists awkwardly. I couldn’t make a full cut because of the way the ropes were tied, but my tiny rubs cut a few strands each time, and my hands finally came free.

  The ropes on my ankles cut easier. Despite his intentions for me, the next part stalled me. In the starlight, he had placed himself with his head nearest me, a mistake that might cost him his life. Once my hand had the rock in it, a single swing would free me, and I didn’t have to adjust my position to do it. He probably chose to sleep with his head closest to me, so he could hear any of my movements in the dark.

  Reaching for the rock was physically not hard. Mentally, it was nearly impossible. It would have been easy to talk myself out of it. My feet were near my captor’s head, so if I made it to my knees and my hand to the rock that I’d memorized its position, my attack should be successful. Killing a sleeping man with a rock in my fist was not easy. If he came at me with his sword, and I held mine, there would be no hesitation in me, but this was different.

  He started it, I told myself. And I offered him a reward to let me go.

  A slight scuff of warning sound prevented me from moving or reaching for the rock. It had come from behind me, in the darkness, not from my captor. I froze, thankful I had yet to move. The shard was clutched in my fingers as a tiny knife might be, as I heard another wisp of sound like the rubbing of material as a person moved slowly.

  Someone was sneaking up on us.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Damon

  The story Anna told me was almost impossible to believe—but I did. I realized my mouth was hanging open and slowly shut it. Emma was not her sister. Emma was not even a real person. It couldn’t be true a sane person would think. For me, I’d have noticed. I fought the idea, and it must have shown.

  *Look into my mind, Damon. Deep inside. See for yourself.* Anna’s voice was inside my head again, strong. Pleading. Tears streamed down her face, but I ignored them.

  I answered, *I’m not skilled enough to do that, but the offer to look makes me believe that you are telling what you think is the truth. I’m certain you are mistaken.*

  *No, not good enough. Look! My mind is open to you, and there is no memory of Emma at all before the storm. I’d never seen her. I did not have a sister.*

  I said out loud, “Even if I knew how to do what you ask, I wouldn’t. Your most private thoughts would be exposed to me. I wouldn’t allow anyone to do it to me, and I won’t do it to a child.”

  “If Emma was never with us at home before the trip, where did she come from and why is she acting like she is my sister?”

  A stray thought entered my consciousness. “Do you like Emma?”

  “I thought I should. I tried. Sisters should love each other. She convinced me I was confused and traumatized from all that happened, but no, I don’t like her. A few days ago, I caught her snooping inside my head while she thought I was asleep.”

  That concerned me. Had Emma been in my mind while I slept? It seemed likely, and I cringed at the invasion of my privacy. “Could you tell what she was searching for?”

  “Doubt. She was suspicious I knew about her. She wanted to know anything that said I was on to her, but I closed my mind.”

  “Well, the next time she looks, she’ll know for sure,” I said in an attempt to both warn and console her. Making wild accusations could harm us all. Being correct could do the same.

  Anna crossed her arms over her chest and said, “I don’t think so. When she was snooping in my head,
I found out how to shut her out. I built a wall she cannot get past, and that’s why she has watched me so closely for the last few days. She is unsure if I have discovered her secret or not, and she does not want me to be alone with you or Kendra in case I know who she is—or is not.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning that after this little venture of ours is done, she is going to go directly for you,” she said. “If she can’t get the information from me, you’re next.”

  I was stunned. If all that Anna had told me was correct, and I fully believed her as impossible as her story seemed at first, she was right. If Emma couldn’t get into Anna’s mind, she would try me. And then Kendra.

  She continued, “Only the two of us know about her. You can’t even tell your sister, yet. Not until we figure out what to do about this. Emma is watching and listening. I don’t know what she will do when she finds out we’re on to her.”

  “She will see it in my mind. That I know about her, I mean,” I told her. “If she is skilled at this mind-speak, she can see what she wants in me.”

  Anna said, as if speaking to a five-year-old, “That’s why I can tell you and not Kendra. You and I talk with our minds. I can show you how to block her, to build a mental wall. Kendra cannot.”

  The idea of anyone, even Anna entering my mind gave me chills. I didn’t think I could allow it, not even Anna.

  She said, “No, I don’t have to do it to you. Just go into my mind and see what happens when I build my wall.”

  I did. Inside, it was not what I expected to find, which was the sharp, crisp thinking of Anna, but a vast expanse of soft, oozing grayness. Like the inside of a cloud at night. My thinking slowed. It reminded me of walking in soft desert sand up a steep hill. I moved but didn’t advance.

  *See?*

  “No, I can’t see, move, or even know what direction to go.”

  “Exactly. Now, you do it in your head,” she told me. *Make the same sort of ooze and hold it there.”

  “I don’t even know where to start.”

  Instead of speaking, she entered my mind again, *Here. Think like you control the morning fog. Draw it to you. Pull it down and over. Surround yourself.*

  I felt a sensation in my head as she directed me to do as she wanted. My teeth clenched, my eyes closed as I fought against her control. But it was not control; it was teaching. I relented just a small amount, but in fear of another in my head, bit down so hard my teeth were in danger of breaking.

  The fog approached me and like smoke in a room with no ventilation, filled my mind. No, not my entire mind, only the portion where I communicated with Anna. The rest of it was normal.

  She was smiling when I glanced her way.

  “It’s working, I think,” I muttered.

  Anna said, “I cannot see anything in your mind but clouds and smoke.” Then, in my head I heard, *Can you hear me?*

  *I can.*

  Her smile was wider. *Try now.*

  I did. A brief sensation of speeding through the fog as if flying or falling allowed me to reach a place where we could communicate.

  She said, “I’ve been doing it longer than you and have opened a path in my shield only you can travel. Nobody else.”

  “You keep the fog in place all the time?” I asked.

  “It’s not that hard once you know how. Let all this settle in your brain, and we can talk about it again later. I will stay in touch and let you know when your wall is slipping.”

  “I don’t know what to say. The walls in our minds are fine, but Emma isn’t real? I can’t believe I missed it. Remember how she faced down Kendra’s dragon on the pass to Vin?”

  Anna said, “The dragon seems to always keep a distance from Emma. I don’t think it knows what to make of her. Maybe it is scared of her. I know I am.”

  Thinking back, there were times when it had acted odd or standoffish. Also, Anna did the talking for the pair of girls almost all the time. Then there was the incident where I’d tried to teach Emma Common with a mind-link, and she had struck back. We’d all assumed it was a reflex reaction to the unknown. But if that was true, why had Anna been so easy to teach?

  I said, “There are a lot of clues when I think about it, but now we know something is wrong. I have a suspicion of what is happening with her, but for now, you and I just have to act normal. We need to go back and warn them of the house-to-house search and find a way to escape.”

  “Can’t we kill her or something?”

  The suggestion shocked me. I said, “No. We stick to our plan. We act normal until we have time to think and plan. Since I can’t tell Kendra, I want you to help decide our best course of action.”

  “Me?”

  I turned as I held the hatch cover upright. “You. Anna, if it hadn’t been for you, how long would it have taken for Kendra or me to figure out what you just did? Days? Weeks? How much danger would we have been in?”

  She paused. “Emma could have gotten us all killed, like by telling the army where we are. She might have already done it, and we were lucky.”

  “You go first. I’ll light a candle and follow.” I wanted to follow, because while what I’d told her was true, suddenly I didn’t trust anyone. Not even Anna. Not until I settled things in my mind, which was a strange way to think of it. Strange things in my mind were the heart of the problem. At another time, I might have laughed.

  When we emerged at the other end of the tunnel, I told them of the impending search. Chambers snapped to one of his sons, “Get them desert robes.” To another, “Go make sure the army is not yet too close to us. Hurry.”

  The mother said, “I’ve already filled a bag with food.”

  One of the other sons said, “I’ll go to the stable and ready five horses.”

  The last son laughed when the mother turned to him. He said, “I’ll escort them to the stables on the back ways. We need to leave right away.” He spoke with a grin as if it was a new game.

  Kendra said somberly, “We came to find our princess. She was abducted from the Gallant, the ship she arrived on.”

  “The ship?” Chambers asked, clearly puzzled. “Is it still here?”

  I said, “The captain was going to sail this morning and never return to Vin. He said Vin violated a law in all lands that forbid local armies from forcing their way aboard. Our princess is still missing.”

  “I cannot believe that happened,” Chambers said. “I have heard nothing about a princess or kidnapping. Rumors fly like birds of prey these days, nothing of the sort has been said. But the way things are going, I believe it.”

  We were quickly dressed in long brown robes made of heavy material that was stained, mended, and smelly from the sweat of previous wearers. They went right over our regular clothing since there was not enough time to change. We all wore colorless scarfs around our necks, and Chambers corrected that. He used them to wrap around our heads, to conceal our foreheads and mouths, which would disguise us. Only our eyes peeked out to hide us.

  He said, “People of the desert move slowly and gracefully. Hurrying attracts attention. Follow Hugh to the stable. Stay well behind so it looks like you are not together in case you are spotted. If they stop him, turn away and make your own way out of town to the west.” He turned to Flier. “As soon as all of you are safely out of the city, one of my boys will travel to visit your parents. Is there anything you wish him to say?”

  Flier said, “Tell them I am well and would like a small army to command to be waiting for me in Dagger.”

  Chambers drew back. “Is that a joke?”

  Flier said, “No. Tell them exactly what I said, and give a full accounting of all else that happened here. Leave nothing out. My father will reward you well.”

  “We did nothing today that deserves a reward.”

  The boy called Hugh looked out the window and interrupted us. “Time to go. They’re almost here.”

  We followed him down a flight of stairs, and he held up a hand for us to pause while he casually walked up a street
and made a turn into a narrower one. We followed as a group, moving slowly, forcing ourselves to be calm and fight the urge to run and attract attention. At the next corner, we saw Hugh turn again, and we moved as one down the street to the intersection.

  The few people we passed avoided making eye contact as if they resented or didn’t like people of the Brownlands. None greeted us. Most treated us as if we didn’t exist which was fine with us.

  Our guide wove us through the better sections of the city, and into the worst. There, we watched him enter a barn at the edge of Vin, where the buildings were smaller and more spread out. A small pasture was behind the barn, with a few goats, three cows, and one horse.

  Inside were five horses, already saddled and several water jugs hung from the saddles of each. They were small, but hardy looking horses, their heavy coats matching the color of our robes. We wore our swords under the robes, but as soon as we left Vin, I wanted my weapon where my hand could quickly reach it.

  A third brother raced into the barn and said, “Hurry. They’re coming. More have joined the hunt.”

  We mounted, and Hugh told us to move quickly out in the desert and get out of sight of anyone in the city. He said to remain where we could see a glimpse of the road now and then and generally follow it but to be careful not be seen by searchers or strangers on the road. We were to travel west for at least a full day before turning south to Dagger.

  He said again as he handed over the reins, reinforcing his instructions, “Stay off the road and out of sight. No campfire tonight, even if you manage to find wood to burn. You should be safer tomorrow, but don’t relax.”

  We moved out, riding steadily but not so fast as to attract attention. Glancing at the others of my band of escapees, they appeared as desert dwellers, no more. Not worth a second look at the likes of us. Just like a hundred others, we’d seen in the last day or two.

  We followed the road west, as suggested until we were out of sight of any buildings or travelers, then we turned off the road until we were sure we were alone. At one place, we waited to see if anyone followed, then continued.