Dragon Sleeping (The Dragon Circle Trilogy Book 1)

by CRAIG SHAW GARDNER

  “And there’s Jason, too,” Mary Lou’s father piped up. “But I’m sure the boys will be fine.”

  “Maybe they’ll get some sense scared into them,” Jackson replied. “The four boys went off together, but I’m sure Todd put it into their heads. Just wait until I get my hands on him—”

  “We have to find them before we can do anything!” Mrs. Blake snapped with a surprising amount of anger.

  “Nunn can find anything,” the Captain interrupted from where he stood at the end of the table. Somehow, when he had disappeared a few minutes ago, Mary Lou hadn’t expected to see him again. His expression was sour, almost angry, as he looked out over the neighbors. He seemed almost an entirely different person from the brash and boastful man who had brought them here. “How?” Mr. Mills objected. “You haven’t—”

  “Nunn will tell you everything.”

  The Captain’s sharp voice silenced everybody. Or maybe it was his mention of his master.

  Nunn had disappeared after the food arrived, stalking inside the hut. Mary Lou now realized that, when he left, everyone— neighbors and guards both—seemed to relax. Nunn had certainly frightened her. After his strange actions, and his eyes that seemed to show the stars, the Captain and his soldiers appeared almost normal. And apparently, from the uniformed men’s actions, getting to know Nunn better did not help ease that tension.

  Some of the people around the table tried to get the conversation going again. Mr. Furlong made a remark about the kind of rations he used to eat in the war. People stared down at their stew. Mary Lou’s mother looked up at her daughter and said she should eat something. Mary Lou sat down at the end of one of the benches and took one of the offered bowls. The food had done nothing to the other neighbors, except maybe quiet them down. “This isn’t bad,” Mr. Furlong murmured.

  His wife giggled nervously. “He never eats this well at home.” No, Mary Lou thought, the neighbors hadn’t changed at all. She grabbed one of the wooden spoons the guards had provided and scooped up some of the dark brown stew from her bowl. She sipped at the gravy. It was both a little sweet and a little salty. Her mouth watered. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was.

  “Are you finished?” the Captain asked Mr. Jackson, who had placed his spoon inside his empty bowl. “When you are done, my men and I will eat.”

  Jackson patted his stomach and stared up at his captor. “I wouldn’t mind stretching my legs. Maybe take a walk around the neighborhood.”

  Some of the other neighbors laughed at that.

  The Captain didn’t even smile. “You don’t want to leave. It is far too dangerous out there. Here you have protection. And Nunn wouldn’t like to lose any more of you.”

  “You killed one of them?”

  The Captain stopped moving at the sound of his master’s voice. He stood absolutely still, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond the clearing.

  Nunn stood directly behind him. Once again, Mary Lou had been unaware of his approach. Instead, he had simply arrived.

  “When you explained the escape,” Nunn said softly, “there was no mention of a death. You will answer me now, Captain.” The words seemed more ominous because of Nunn’s very pleasant smile.

  “I thought it best to ensure the others’ obedience,” the Captain replied. “The one we dispatched was obviously of no consequence—”

  “Obviously?” Nunn interrupted, his smile showing even more teeth. “You, then, are gifted with that judgment?”

  “Oh, no,” the Captain said quickly. “I am not gifted at all. I am nothing but your soldier, doing my best to fulfill—”

  “Your best?” Nunn nodded serenely. “Yes, you are only human, are you? All people make mistakes?” He sighed. “We need them all. Until we see them together, we have no idea who is chosen and who is not. You indicated that you understood that.” He held his hands out before him. Mary Lou could swear that his fingertips glowed softly. Nunn chuckled, as if delighted with the sight. “But you will be happy to know, my Captain, that even this error is not irreversible.”

  “Sir?” the Captain asked after Nunn had paused.

  “You can take a life, I can give one back,” Nunn replied in a singsong tone. “There is one small problem. The restoration of life is a costly matter. However, I would think that, as the man who made the mistake in the first place, you would be more than happy to pay some restitution.”

  The Captain blinked. His mouth opened, then closed. A single bead of sweat danced the length of the scar on his left cheek.

  “Sir,” he replied at last.

  “I am glad you agree.” Nunn’s smile was so broad by now that the lower half of his face looked like nothing but teeth. “But come. As I’m sure you realize, this conversation will best be concluded in private.”

  Both Nunn and the Captain turned toward the hut behind them, their movements so close that they looked like two puppets controlled by the same string.

  Nunn strode quickly to the hut. The Captain followed, his walk almost too stiff, and no less direct. In a moment, both had disappeared into darkness.

  “May eat?” one of the soldiers asked to break the all-too-familiar silence.

  “Pardon?” Mrs. Blake looked up. The soldier pointed at the bowl before her. “Oh, certainly,” she answered as she rose from the table. “I wouldn’t want any more. Not now.” Other neighbors followed her, one by one retreating from the table.

  Mary Lou had lost her appetite as well. It sounded as if something horrible would happen to the Captain. She pushed the toe of her penny loafer into the packed earth of the clearing. She had seen the Captain order someone killed in cold blood. Why should she feel sorry for him? Mary Lou knew the answer as soon as she thought of the man in the dark blue suit—the Captain’s master. The Captain, at least, appeared to be human—human like Mary Lou and the rest of the neighbors. Who knew what Nunn was?

  Half the soldiers sat at the benches that the others had just vacated.

  The other half of the men hung back, weapons in hands.

  “Must stay,” the new spokesman announced as he sat down among the other men. His accent seemed Slavic. He grabbed a spoon and waved it at those soldiers still standing. “Understand?” He pointed the spoon at the neighbors. “You go, our death.” He screwed up his nose as if he smelled something bad. “Not pleasant. No.” He turned back to the table, rapidly ladling stew into a clean bowl. “So quiet, please. We all live one more day.”

  With that, the soldier began to slurp his stew.

  Mary Lou looked at her mother and father. She realized that, besides her mother asking her to eat, the two of them hadn’t said a word throughout the entire meal. Her father shook his head when she looked at him. Why? The guard’s broken speech had confused her. She wanted to ask the soldier if he was afraid of Nunn as well. But her parents looked as if they’d die if she opened her mouth.

  Mary Lou glanced at those guards who still held their weapons. They had spaced themselves out at the edges of the clearing. A couple of them engaged in conversation, while another seemed busy refitting the shafts and heads of his arrows. A fourth stared out at the woods, his back to the gathering. Mary Lou had no doubt that, should she approach the line of trees beyond the clearing, she would get all of the guards’ attention. But for now, they seemed involved elsewhere, as if they were saying, “You don’t bother us, we won’t bother you.”

  Short of some new distraction like those falling trees, she couldn’t think of any way to escape. But there was no reason she couldn’t simply stroll across the clearing and explore.

  She walked away from the table, looking at the ground before her, the tops of the trees beyond the guards, the walls of the hut in front of her.

  One of the guards looked her way. She took a few steps back toward the center of the clearing, and the guard looked away.

  She turned back to her goal.

  The hut seemed to be made of dried mud and straw. The wooden door, constructed from half a dozen logs tied side by side, had been lef
t open. No light reached within. She could see nothing inside, even when her casual steps turned again and brought her closer.

  She had a sudden urge to step through the doorway.

  Why would anyone want to follow Nunn? Perhaps, she thought, because that was the one thing no one would ever expect. Maybe she could find out something about their captors, or find something inside that could help them with their escape.

  She took a step forward. Quiet as a mouse, she thought. It was something her grandmother used to say when Mary Lou had become too excited as a child. Quiet as a mouse.

  When she was younger, she used to creep from her bedroom and hide at the top of the stairs and listen to her parents. It was exciting, dangerous, forbidden, to be someplace she shouldn’t.

  The door was only two steps away.

  No one called out to her, neither soldier nor neighbor. No one knew she was there. Everyone had stopped talking.

  There was no noise anywhere. Quiet as a mouse.

  She risked a final glance behind her, waiting for someone to shout.

  Too close! Move away!

  The guards were busy eating, or talking, or watching the other neighbors. Even Mary Lou’s mother was busy, deep in discussion with the other women. Now that she looked back at them, she could hear voices, but only a distant murmur too faint to make out the words. Maybe the breeze made it hard to hear. It was almost as if they had all forgotten about her.

  She stepped inside. She felt stone beneath her feet. She closed her eyes for an instant, willing her gaze to adjust to the dimness within. It was cooler in here; the air felt totally different from the forest outside. She opened her eyes with a start when she realized she could smell the sea.

  She stood in a hall, made of dark and solid stone. She was at one end of a long corridor, lit with torches, that stretched as far as she could see.

  The corridor must have been a dozen times as long as the hut. That was impossible. Well, she added, impossible in the world she had come from.

  From somewhere far down the corridor came a terrible scream of pain.

  Perhaps, she thought, this was more information than she wanted. Maybe she should step back and rejoin the relative security of parents and neighbors and soldiers who carried nothing more than bows and knives.

  She glanced behind her. The door was no longer there. Instead, she saw another wall of dark grey stone.

  It must all be part of the illusion. She pushed her hand against the wall, fully expecting her palm to pass on through to the invisible doorway that led back to the forest camp.

  The wall was solid. Her fingers pushed against rough, cold granite. A second scream came down the hall, even louder than the first.

  Six

  “Nunn will not let us go that easily,” the large green man said softly. Raven’s laughter stopped abruptly as the sun disappeared behind the clouds. They were dark clouds, their undersides a threatening blend of black and brown, hanging low as if they couldn’t wait to release a torrent of rain. Somehow, Nick thought, these thunder-heads, set against the greenish sky, looked even more ominous than they did at home.

  “Nunn has avoided this before,” the large black bird remarked, pointing his beak toward the approaching storm. “Something has changed. He’s decided to test Raven.”

  The bird nodded at Nick and the other young men. “One of you must be very important.”

  The four newcomers all looked at each other. Jason appeared a little bewildered behind his thick glasses. Surrounded by these big trees, he looked even scrawnier than usual. Bobby shifted his pudgy body from one foot to the other, smiling like he wanted everything to be all right. Todd glared briefly at each of them, idly flexing his biceps before he turned away. Now that they’d gotten away from the soldiers, he seemed all too ready to go back to his usual anger. Nick didn’t feel any different, either. Of course, with red hair and a gangly body that refused to stop growing, he supposed he could stand out in this place, too. Still, none of the four of them looked particularly “important.” Maybe, Nick thought, they were all staring at each other to see if one of them had sprouted horns or something.

  Raven shook his head and fluffed out his feathers. “Nunn will be very sorry.”

  Todd stepped forward from the ranks of the newcomers. “I’ve had enough of this. Who, or what, is a Nunn?”

  “The boy is most perceptive,” the Oomgosh observed with the most generous of smiles. “Nunn is both a who and a what.”

  “And the Oomgosh will talk and talk and never get to the point,” Raven replied. “Sometimes I am amazed we are still in this battle.”

  The large green man smiled still. “Raven does make up for our weaknesses.” But his smile vanished as he looked above.

  “Nunn is looking for us now,” the Oomgosh explained with a nod toward the clouds. “Nunn was once a man, much like one of you. But he has used his magic too long.” He turned his head toward the sky as rain began to fall. “And the magic has used him in return.”

  Raven looked speculatively at the large raindrops, as if there might be a secret in the pattern of their fall. “If I were by myself, I would fly up there to take the lightning in my claws and thrust it back in the eyes of Nunn.” He cawed softly. “Things become more difficult when I have four visitors to protect.”

  “Too true,” the green man agreed. “Perhaps we should seek some assistance.”

  “Even Raven shares the sky,” the bird said. “Follow me now, before this storm gets any worse.”

  With that, the great black bird took flight, his wings even darker than the clouds above.

  “Come, friends,” the Oomgosh urged from where he stood behind them. “It is for all our benefit.”

  Todd glared at the sky as he broke into a trot. Bobby and Jason scrambled to catch up, as if they both had elected Todd their leader. They all followed the path indicated by the low-flying Raven, which led from the clearing back into the forest. Nick started to run; too, afraid he’d get left behind. The rain was getting heavier. Nick blinked the water from his eyes.

  Lightning flashed before them. Charlie barked at his heels. Nick’s dog had never much liked lightning.

  Nick waited for the great boom that always followed. There was nothing; no thunder at all.

  “Come now!” the bird cried over his shoulder. “Keep up with Raven and we’ll all be safe and dry.” He cawed loudly as he flew, warning away the storm.

  A second shaft of lightning crashed down in front of them. It was much closer than the first. The air smelled like something was burning. There was no thunder this time, either.

  “Perhaps, O Raven,” the Oomgosh called from where he took up the rear, “it would be better to take a less direct route.” Raven spread his wings and banked around before them.

  “For once in his overgrown life,” the bird called down as he flew overhead, “the Oomgosh might be right.” He turned again, and flew a bit to the left of their earlier course, toward another opening in the surrounding woods. “Come on, my people! What say we outwit this storm?”

  All four of them followed the Raven’s lead, with the Oomgosh following them in turn. But Nick was finding it harder and harder to run. He had trouble breathing in the humid air, and the rain had soaked through his clothes. His jeans seemed heavier every time he lifted his legs. And the water kept falling straight down, a solid downpour, without any wind at all, as if the clouds overhead might stay there to unleash their torrent forever.

  Lightning smashed into the trees directly in front of them, maybe a hundred feet away. One of the tree stumps that remained caught on fire, the flames sizzling beneath the rain.

  “The storm does not wish us to go this way, either,” the Oomgosh declared, his voice rising above the noise the rain made against the leaves.

  Nick thought about Raven’s saying he would outwit the storm. Maybe a storm that held no wind or thunder really could think, too. Maybe that kind of storm used the lightning for its fingers, for Nick felt as if those crooked lines of e
lectricity were reaching out for all of them. “So what will Raven do?” the bird shouted as he hovered overhead. “Perhaps it is time to challenge the clouds!” Still, as boldly as he talked, he made no move to fly up toward the thunderheads.

  “The Oomgosh has had a thought!” the green man called from the rear.

  “Another wonder in a world of marvels!” Raven chided. “Does the Oomgosh wish to share it with us?”

  “We have said that one of the young men here with us is important to Nunn,” the Oomgosh said with a grin so broad it threatened to split his face in two. “And Nunn has the storm throw lightning to send us back the way we have come. No doubt he wishes us to march back into the willing arms of his soldiers. But if these fellows are so important, the lightning cannot touch them. He can throw down all the slashing fire in the world, but it will be no more than a threat!”

  “You mean this Nunn doesn’t want to kill us?” Todd asked incredulously.

  “Nunn doesn’t dare kill you!” Raven cackled. “The lightning is nothing more than a sham, to lure you into his trap!”

  Raven cawed loudly. “He is certainly the most excellent

  Oomgosh!” He swooped above the green man, and then fluttered his wings to gain altitude. “Of course,” the bird added in a quieter voice, “Raven would have thought of that as well, had he not been so busy leading us all from danger.

  “Most assuredly, my Raven,” the Oomgosh agreed. “Now what say we go to meet the lightning?”

  “Wait a moment,” Bobby piped up, for once not smiling at all. “You want us to walk into that stuff?”

  It was only when he heard Bobby’s question that Nick realized how quiet the two younger boys had been since they had met the Oomgosh and Raven. But this last suggestion of the green man’s was apparently too much even for Bobby, who looked as if he was about to lose it and run.

  Jason stood by Bobby’s side, content to keep silent and look miserable. His rain-soaked clothes made him seem even scrawnier than usual. His glasses were completely fogged over by the rain; Nick wondered if Jason could even see. Out of all of them, only Todd seemed eager to follow the large bird’s lead.