Dragon Sleeping (The Dragon Circle Trilogy Book 1)

by CRAIG SHAW GARDNER

  It was quite dark under the trees. So little light filtered through the vines overhead that Nick got the feeling he was walking through some never-ending dusk. The crunch of leaves under their feet made their march anything but quiet.

  Mrs. Smith stumbled on a root. Mr. Mills stepped back and helped her walk. She whimpered every time she put her weight on her left foot. The soldiers showed no indication of slowing down.

  Their dark surroundings seemed to make the leader of their captors even more cheerful. He jogged ahead for all the neighbors to see. “Take heart!” he called as he opened his arms wide to include all his captives. “We are going to a place of some comfort. At least it can be quite comfortable if you wish it to be.”

  He laughed again as he hugged his arms to his chest. “You do not appear to be enjoying yourselves. Perhaps you would like to be entertained. I will answer questions. You may call me the Captain. It’s not an exact translation, but it will do.”

  At first, the Captain was answered by silence. Nick heard other noises in the woods besides their walking. There was a kind of perpetual rustling going on overhead, as if something was moving through the branches of the trees. Nick wondered if there were animals up there, or something else like the wailing vines. He heard another noise in the distance, too, like a dog barking. Nick had forgotten about his dog. What had happened to Charlie?

  There were still no questions. Nick wondered if anyone would dare to break the shuffling silence. To his surprise, it was his mother who spoke up first.

  “Why are you taking us away from our homes?” she called ahead to the leader.

  “Good, good,” the Captain encouraged. “It is important that you speak up. It helps us to determine your true nature.” He spent a moment frowning at the ground as he walked. “But your question is more difficult than it first appears. You see, your homes, as you call them, are your homes no longer, for they have been moved from familiar surroundings into an environment that might be— well— considered actively hostile.”

  He pulled Old Man Sayre’s revolver from his belt and waved it grandly. “We did you a favor by liberating you from those places. In a few days, you won’t be able to recognize those homes of yours.” He looked up the nose of the gun into the trees. “That’s what happens with these vines, you know.” The Captain thrust the revolver back into his belt.

  Nobody spoke for another period of time. Nick could no longer hear the dog. Maybe the vines were keeping Charlie trapped back on what remained of Chestnut Circle. Nick felt a moment of panic. How would Charlie survive in a weird place like this?

  “Captain.” This time it was Todd who spoke. “Why should you care what happens to us?”

  “Even more impressive,” the Captain remarked before he answered. “We care because what happens to you happens to us as well. There was a reason our worlds were joined. Not of course that common men like you or me are privy to those sorts of reasons. But I understand that one of you, maybe more, was needed.”

  “Needed?” Todd shot back. “Needed for what?”

  Their captor shook his head ruefully. “I’m afraid not. Not yet.” The Captain let his hand rest on the butt of his revolver. “Perhaps that answer should wait until we reach our destination.” He turned forward to look at the men who led their band.

  Todd balled his hands into fists, but his arms stayed at his side. He glanced over at Nick, but not with the sneer he usually wore. Todd’s look was more one of appraisal, like he was getting ready to do something and wanted to know if Nick would go along.

  “But come,” the Captain called over his shoulder, “certainly there are more questions.”

  Nick decided it was time he asked a question. The more information they had, the more chance they had to survive. “Where are we?”

  “The most forsaken spot on all the seven islands,” the Captain said with a laugh. He added something in the guttural tongue, and his men laughed dutifully as well. “Dark and dirty and full of the most annoying—” He paused as he again pulled the gun from his belt. “It’s time for a demonstration.”

  Nick half expected the gun to be leveled at him. Instead, the Captain pointed the muzzle up toward the rustling vines overhead.

  “We have company,” the Captain announced. “Maybe we can bring one of them down for your closer inspection.” He pulled the trigger.

  The roar of the gun was followed by a cry of pain far more human than the screams of the vines. Something fell with a thud on the packed earth ahead.

  The Captain grinned at the neighbors. “Come on. Let’s take a look at what I brought you.”

  He looked directly at Nick, and then beckoned the teenager forward. The soldiers broke rank so that Nick could follow their leader.

  Nick walked where he was supposed to. As he approached, the Captain pointed the gun at the ground.

  “Here’s the little piece of dung,” the Captain announced jovially.

  Nick looked where he pointed, at a pale creature on the leaf- strewn ground. The thing was still alive. It had curled into a ball, probably to protect itself from further pain. It made no noise, but Nick could see it breathing. Its skin was wrinkled, and closer in color to an albino white than the flesh of Nick’s hand. It was small, too. Maybe, if the thing were stretched out head to toe, it would be three feet high. It looked exactly like a little old man.

  The creature struggled weakly as the Captain grabbed it at its waist and lifted it off the ground. It bent and twisted its head about, its teeth snapping at the Captain’s hand. The leader simply shifted his grip so that the teeth couldn’t reach to do their damage.

  “Filthy things,” the Captain remarked with distaste. “You can’t stop to rest anywhere around here. Men fall asleep, they don’t wake again. And you should see what they do with the pieces of the body.” He dropped the wounded thing onto the ground. “Their idea of a joke.”

  The Captain pulled back his foot to kick the body away.

  And something happened. Nick saw the whole world blur around him. He felt dizzy, disoriented, like once when he had been struck on the side of the head by a baseball.

  It was over as quickly as it had come. The other men in brown talked quickly, agitatedly. Nick heard one word over and over again in their conversation. It sounded like ken-nak-ka. “Kennake,” maybe.

  The Captain yelled at his men. He used the word, too. The men stopped talking.

  The Captain frowned back at the neighbors. “Stupid. I am too full of myself.” He looked down at the gun in his hand with disgust, then threw it away with a side-armed motion, the way Nick would throw a Frisbee. Nick heard the metal crack against the trunk of a distant tree.

  The Captain barked an order. The brown-uniformed soldiers began to walk. That meant that the neighbors had better move as well. One of the soldiers yelled something at Nick. Even though he couldn’t understand the words, Nick knew the soldier meant for him to rejoin the rest of the prisoners. One of the other soldiers walked past him toward the wounded creature, the soldier’s spear angled toward the ground.

  Nick hesitated a fraction of a second before he took a step. Maybe, he thought, he could escape. They no longer had the gun. Maybe there was some way he could get away, maybe even help the others.

  But he was in the middle of a strange world, with creatures and a language that he couldn’t understand. Where could he go? What might he do?

  He could run. His skinny body could move pretty fast. He had even competed some on the junior varsity track team a couple years ago, before his father left. Some of the other kids had called him Fire Engine because of his red hair.

  Would the soldiers kill him if he tried? He half imagined, if he got away, that this Captain would kill another of the neighbors for spite. He wouldn’t want anyone else to get hurt because of him.

  He saw the Captain out of the corner of his eye. And the Captain had pulled a knife.

  Nick decided that it was better not to risk things now. He walked back toward the others. Somehow, though, h
e still felt like a coward. And he didn’t want to look at Todd.

  Nick’s father had always called him a dreamer. He had a chance to act—and he hadn’t. His father was long gone. But Nick realized he still wanted to prove him wrong.

  Nick heard a shriek behind him. He didn’t have to look around to know that the spearman had finished his leader’s work.

  The Captain increased his stride, and then fell in at Nick’s side. The soldier attempted to smile, but whatever had happened a moment before seemed to have undermined his smugness.

  “It is too bad about the weapon,” he said after a moment, his eyes scanning the forest to either side. “We will have to kill you now by more conventional means. It will be slower that way, and probably more painful.”

  The Captain looked back at the rest of the neighbors. He already appeared to be more cheerful, as if all he needed was the talk of death to put him in good spirits. “Not that we will have to kill any of you, so long as you see the justice of our cause.”

  They resumed their walk. But the new silence was almost immediately interrupted by the flapping of wings. Something swooped close over Nick’s head. A soldier called out behind him. Then the wings were gone in the distance.

  The men started to talk again. This time, the word they repeated sounded like raven.

  The leader spoke harshly to his men, then added in English, “I am sorry. You must go more quickly now, or we will kill you.”

  The soldiers doubled their pace, pushing the neighbors before them. Nick didn’t think Mrs. Smith could keep up. He didn’t want her to be the second one to die. But what could he do?

  “Watch out!” Todd called from behind him.

  Nick looked up. A great tree trunk was crashing down toward them. He jumped back and saw another tree crashing to their left. The ground shook as the two great trunks hit the ground almost at the same time. Nick shielded his eyes from the flying bark and leaves. He started to take his hand from his eyes and saw another tree fall to earth in the space between his fingers. A second later, a fourth smashed down where they had walked only a minute before.

  Nick felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked around. It was Todd. “We can get away!” Todd whispered. He nodded toward their left.

  Nick followed Todd’s gaze and saw what he meant. The neighbors were still all pressed together in this new clearing made by the fallen trees. But the soldiers had scattered back in confusion, so that two of the great trunks separated them from their captives, and their left flank was completely open to the forest.

  “Are you crazy?” Todd’s father called after him. “They’ll kill us if they see us run!”

  “I don’t think I can run,” Mrs. Smith managed.

  “Someone will have to stay with her,” Nick’s mother cautioned.

  Todd took a step toward freedom. Another tree crashed to the right of the soldiers. The Captain yelled at his men. They didn’t seem to hear him anymore, staring instead into the darkness of the surrounding forest.

  “Get back here, you crazy fool!” Todd’s father demanded. “You don’t do anything I don’t tell you to!”

  “You’re the one who’s crazy, you piece of shit,” Todd replied. He called out to the others. “Bobby! Mary Lou!”

  “Mr. Mills!” Nick called. “Mom!” Todd was right. Now was the time to get out of here. He glanced back at the soldiers to his right and almost stopped dead. The Captain’s orders were finally taking effect, and the soldiers, though rattled, were staring to fall back into line.

  “All of you!” Todd yelled. “Let’s try and get the fuck away from here. All they’re going to do is kill us. It’s either now or later.”

  Nick saw a couple of the soldiers notch arrows in their bows. He didn’t want to die. But he also didn’t want to meekly go along with this Captain fellow to whatever unpleasant future the soldiers had planned for them.

  Nick had to do something.

  The Captain screamed at his men as another tree smashed to earth behind them. Was there really any way Nick and the others could get away? Maybe, if they could only run fast enough.

  “We have to go!” Todd urged. He took a couple more steps away, as if his lead would convince everybody else to run as well. “Hey, come on! What kind of losers are you? We get out of here now, we help the others later!”

  “Get back here, you little shit!” his father called. “You’ll get us all killed!”

  Nick wanted to run, but he could almost feel the arrow in his back. He couldn’t just stand here. He couldn’t let someone like Todd Jackson get the better of him.

  Nick heard the flutter of wings. He looked up and saw a bird, darker than the leaves overhead, fly low above them toward the bowmen.

  The soldiers screamed. Somehow, Nick knew, the bird was there as a distraction, just as the trees were there to help them escape. If they were going to get away, this was maybe their last chance.

  “Now!” Nick screamed, and started to run. He saw Todd right beside him, heard other footsteps to his rear.

  The soldiers’ angry voices receded behind them. Nick heard something whistle to his left. He wondered if it was an arrow. Nobody near him made a sound beyond their running feet. He heard a woman scream behind them, but he didn’t dare look around.

  “Not in a straight line!” Todd called out. He sprinted through an opening to their left between the trees. Other footsteps followed, but Nick guessed that there were only two or three neighbors behind him. The others must have been caught. Or maybe they hadn’t had enough nerve to run.

  Todd turned one-way and then another. Nick followed close at his heels as they zigzagged between the trees; until Nick could no longer remember which direction they had come from.

  They ran until they couldn’t run anymore. Nick’s ribs ached so hard he half imagined the onrushing air would crush them against his lungs and heart. Todd stumbled in front of him but kept on running. Somehow Nick caught up to him.

  “Todd,” he managed. “Enough.”

  “Yeah,” Todd agreed. He broke his stride and almost fell. “I guess you’re right. I guess we lost them by now.” He made a noise that probably would have been a laugh if he had any breath left in him. He staggered to a halt, leaning at last against a tree. Nick fell down, exhausted, on the leaf-strewn ground.

  “You know, Nick?” Todd said from where he was still barely standing. “I guess you’re not as much of a chickenshit as I thought.”

  Nick forgot about anything he might say back to Todd when he heard new footsteps crashing through the leaves. He looked up and saw the two younger boys, Bobby Furlong and Jason Dafoe, Mary Lou’s little brother.

  Bobby waved at the older two, then turned around and looked at the forest, as if expecting others. Even though he was short and stocky, he acted like he did this kind of running every day of the week. Skinny Jason sank to his knees and pushed his glasses back up his nose. He seemed even more winded than Nick.

  The forest behind them was silent and still.

  “C’mon, guys!” Bobby called out to the trees. “Where are you?”

  The kids were the only ones who had followed. What had happened to Nick’s mother? Or Mr. Mills? Where was Mary Lou? There was no sign of any of them.

  But there was no sign of the soldiers, either.

  “What do we do now?” Jason spoke for all of them.

  “We could go back to our houses,” Bobby suggested with a big smile, like he was getting away with something. “That is,” he added, his smile falling a little, “if we could find them.”

  Todd shook his head. “Bad idea. That would be the first place the soldiers would look. Besides, from the way that the Captain spoke, I don’t think our houses are going to be there very long.”

  Something growled out in the woods. “Oh, God,” Jason whined. “What’s that?”

  Nick knew they didn’t have any answer to that, either. He stood and felt in his pockets. “Do we have anything that we can use as a weapon?”

  “I’ve got my dad’s o
ld Boy Scout knife,” Bobby volunteered. “I was trying to learn how to whittle.”

  “Whittle?” Todd asked with his usual sneer.

  “Yeah,” Bobby said defensively. “My grandfather used to do it. I’ve got a couple of cool pieces of wood he fooled around with.”

  “Let me see it,” Todd demanded. Bobby handed it over. Todd flipped out the biggest of the blades. “Not much.” He crouched and held the open knife in front of him. “Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

  Nick looked back at the spot where he thought he’d heard the growling. Was there a dark shape out there, running between the trees?

  All four of them yelled when they heard a barking growl only a few feet behind them. Nick whirled around, ready to either strike out or run.

  A dark brown shape barked back at him. “Hey!” Nick called. “It’s Charlie!”

  He would recognize his dog anywhere, even looking as bad as that dog did now. Charlie’s fur was ruffled and dirty, as if he had had to make it through briars or some other rough going. It looked like he might have a new scratch on his nose, too, like he’d been in a fight. Nick hoped it wasn’t anything serious.

  The dog bounded forward and leapt up to lick Nick’s face. It was Charlie, all right. No other dog’s breath could smell that bad.

  “All right!” Jason clapped his hands and whistled. “Now we’ve got some protection!”

  As if on cue, the dog gave up greeting his master to pace about in front of the four. He started to growl again.

  “Charlie?” Nick called. “What is it?”

  The dog turned to bark up at a nearby tree.

  “Is that any way to greet your savior?” a voice called from a low branch overhead. Nick peered up, and made out a great black bird in the gloom.

  It was Bobby who spoke this time. “Who are you?”

  The bird—the talking bird—fluffed his feathers with pride. “I am Raven. I am the creator of all things.”

  A great, booming laugh erupted from the trees behind the four of them.

  “No doubt you were about to mention my part in this?” a very deep voice added. All four sons of the neighborhood turned around. There in front of them was a well-muscled fellow who also happened to be eight feet tall. His skin was some tone halfway between tan and green, and his head was covered by something that looked more like tiny leaves than hair. His smile, however, was very friendly. Nick found his fear retreating again, to be replaced by a familiar confusion. How could someone that large not make some sort of noise as he approached?