Fire Bound Dragon

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Fire Bound Dragon Page 4

by Elizabeth Rain


  “Maybe we should look a little closer at the cabin first? Perhaps it will give us a better idea of where they went.” Or were taken, I thought. I kept that part to myself though.

  “Thomas, what did your Cousin do for a living?” He took a pull from his own water bottle and stored it. He unwrapped a granola bar that had seen better days and took a huge bite.

  “Trapper. Sally and Lawrence. Little boy was Jacob. They both trapped for a living.” He mumbled around a mouth full. “He was teaching his son the ropes. Todd and Terry and I used to visit them a lot in the summer.” He shoved the rest of the chocolate in his mouth and jammed the wrapper in the back of his jeans pocket.

  I wondered if what they did for a living had anything to do with what had happened. Maybe we’d never know the answer.

  He’d long since removed his own hat from his short cap of tight black curls like I had. As we cooled down and prepared to head out, he retrieved it from his coat pocket where he’d stuffed it and plopped it back on. The contrast between the light chocolate of his skin and the stark white of the cap was startling. I realized suddenly that Thomas had lost weight over break. His face was thinning out and becoming more angular. I wondered how much of that was natural and how much had been brought on from the stress of losing his brother and dealing with his father’s grief.

  We swung our packs back on and readjusted the straps. We had a long way to go and the day wasn’t getting any younger.

  Sally and Lawrence had lived high on the Mountain and closest to where the demon wolves and Macu had had their lairs and set up camp. It was why we had been so certain that they had become victims of the demon wolves in the first place.

  When we came into the clearing and saw the cabin for the first time an overwhelming feeling of sadness socked me dead in the gut. The cabin wasn’t large, but they had crafted it with love and patience with enormous windows and a huge wrap-around porch that covered two sides of the small building and was perfect for sipping hot cocoa and watching the morning come in. A small barn stood to the side. It was empty now; the door wedged open against the snow. I wasn’t sure whether the animals inside had gotten out or if something had gotten in, but the livestock were gone. We looked there first. It had been empty for a while. Beside the barn was an attached chicken coop. The birds hadn’t been so lucky and the smell coming out of the nesting boxes was horrific. Sirris and I held our noses as we moved away. I noticed that Thomas did not and I figured he wanted the reminder. He had no intentions of forgetting why we were here.

  The Cabin was locked solid, but it was no match for Thomas. With a determined kick, he knocked it back on its hinges, breaking the jam. The air inside was stale from disuse. No one had been in here in a while, but at least it held nothing dead. Whatever had happened, they’d had time to lock the doors behind them when they left. There were no signs of foul play to indicate something had happened.

  We wandered back outside and Thomas propped the door closed the best he could. It would need to be repaired to close properly.

  I tried to think of where they could have gone. “Thomas? You said trapping, right? Where did Lawrence store his stuff?” He stared at me for a moment in confusion, and then the light bulb went off. He moved down the stairs and back towards the barn. Inside, he opened a stall door to the tack and feed room and stared hard at the wall. “He keeps it here. I mean, it’s been a while since we visited, but it seems a lot of the traps are missing. So is Lawrence’s trapping pouch to hold game. Means he was probably out checking the line when he disappeared. There’s an excellent chance his wife and son were with him. They did almost everything together.”

  “Do you know where they set their traps, Thomas?” Sirris asked, fingering the leather straps of a pair of snow shoes, stiff with disuse and the cold.

  He continued staring at the wall, his face thoughtful as he contemplated the answers. His mouth drew down into a thin line. “Maybe. Let’s go see how good my fourteen-year-old memory is.”

  We followed him out, shoving the barn door shut behind us so nothing else got in that wasn’t supposed to. Thomas moved around behind the barn and started up a thin trail into the woods, beyond where we’d come in. We had to stop several times for Thomas to try to get his bearings. A lot had changed in the three years since he’d last visited the farm and walked the trap line with his Cousin Lawrence. “Last time I was up here, Sally had just found out she was carrying Jacob. She was sick as a dog and Lawrence and I checked the traps alone. I’m trying to remember how he went. Thing is, it all could have changed too. Lines alter year to year. I remember coming this way, though.”

  Behind me, Sirris gave a gasp and a shriek. Both of us whirled in time to see her freeze, her face blanching. We followed her eyes and wondered how we’d missed it. It stood to reason that most of the traps, even if we located them without tripping them, would be off the trail and covered with snow. I’d assumed that all the traps were steel. But I was wrong. Some of them had been string snares. Designed to catch the unwary rabbit or mink in a noose when it tripped and sprung back, hanging its victim. The trap had worked just like it should. The rabbit carcass dangling from the small cedar sapling was nearly gone. All that remained were some bleached bones and the sinew that held them intact. Birds and mice had taken care of the rest. This was a trap he’d set on his way through but hadn’t been able to come back and check. We were on the right trail.

  We moved slower after that. We found no more dangling surprises. We discovered a dead lynx in one, his paw nearly chewed through as he desperately tried to escape capture, only to starve where he lay when nobody came. It was a nasty business, trapping. I figured animals rights activists would have a cow. But for the people on this mountain, it was how they survived and it wasn’t our job to judge.

  Sirris was having a hard time with it. I watched, slightly horrified, as she reached out and brushed the back of her hand over the matted fur before releasing the trap. She couldn’t help the poor animal in life, but she could release him in death.

  We moved on. Two more traps, one sprung but empty, and another we used a stick on to spring so nothing else wandered into it by accident. The bait was long gone.

  The woods thinned and we moved into an open area thick with twining vines and a vast blackberry patch that must have covered the better part of an acre. The heavy brown canes pulled at our clothing and we stepped carefully to avoid them. This was a patch that had been growing for years. Despite the heavy winter snows, the bushes themselves rose over the top of each other in a tangle that was easily eight feet tall in places. As we moved though, I saw no sign of anything alarming. A glance at Thomas’ face and I knew he was experiencing the same. Frustration creased his brow and it drew his mouth flat in a thin line of disappointment. It was as we thought. We’d come all this way for nothing.

  I stared at the brambles, imagining them thick with late fall fruit. They would have been jam worthy for sure. I frowned, my mind wandering to the little boy. Three, they’d said. That would have put him no taller than the middle of my thigh and his fingers would have been busy looking for the low-lying fruit. On a hunch, I crouched down to his eye level. What would he have seen? I had to go nearly to my knees before I saw it. The small animal trails that crisscrossed beneath the bushes and provided shelter against larger predators unwilling to navigate its prickly paths. They wound back beyond sight where the undergrowth darkened. But I didn’t need to go that far. Just beneath the edge of where the twining vines started and the snow had failed to reach was a flat patch of earth, worn smooth by little critter feet. Snagged on a nasty thorn, a spot of color caught my eyes. I removed my gloves and reached in and pulled the insignificant piece of fabric free. The multicolored strands of material looked like they could have belonged to a red and black flannel shirt. I rubbed the soft cotton between my fingers.

  “Thomas!” I yelled. Both had gone on ahead and had to backtrack to where I crouched, one knee resting in the snow as I bent to look beneath.

 
I lifted it up and Thomas took it from me. He lifted it to his nose, but I knew any scent was long gone. It had been over two months since their disappearance. Sirris and Thomas bent down to my level and looked beneath the bushes. In further yet, another set of threads the same color were snagged on another thorny branch. Our eyes traveled further along the ground beneath the bushes and just off the trail. That was when we discovered Sally’s berry basket.

  THE STORM CAME OUT of nowhere; fat flakes tickling my cheeks and the wind blowing its icy breath down the back of my neck. I shivered and stood up to stare at the sky. We’d been looking for the better part of an hour for any other clues. We’d found nothing but the cloth. I could feel it though. What we needed was here. The answers to where everyone had gone.

  But we wouldn’t be finding them today. The low clouds boiling over the horizon, round and dirty and heavy with promise, said otherwise. We needed to get off this mountain.

  Thomas looked grim and hurting. To be so close and have to quit must have been next to impossible to swallow. “Come on. That storms almost on us and I don’t know about you, but I have no desire to be caught out in it.” He growled. We headed down the trail at a trot as the snow thickened. We had to hope we could at least make it to the cabin before it hit. There was food and water there and plenty of wood for the fireplace. We could bunk in for the night and head the rest of the way back down in the morning.

  “This isn’t over.” Thomas tossed over his shoulder as we doubled back for the third time in as many minutes after he missed a turn. “We’ll come back after the storm. That can’t be all there is and I’m not stopping.” We turned the last curve and ran into the yard. I’m sure we made the last half mile on instinct, because by the time we closed the door behind us and wedged it closed with one of the chairs, we measured visibility in feet, not yards. I shivered. The temperature had to have dropped ten degrees in the last hour, edging into the single digits.

  But as long as there was plenty of wood; and there was, we were golden. Before he’d left, Lawrence had stacked the fireplace. I moved in, my fingers already glowing and the sting of my magic bubbling to the surface. This was something I knew. What I was good at. Thomas and Sirris went out and gathered more from the woodpile to last the rest of the night. We’d see what canned goods were in the pantry for supper after the fire did its job and warmed the cabin up.

  I bent low on one knee, pulling the single wooden match free from the box on the mantle and lighting it against the steel of the box. It sputtered and started to go out, but it was enough. My fingers crackled as I held them out to the dry tinder and blew gently, whispering encouragement beneath my breath. The tinder burst into flames so fast I had to jerk my hand back to avoid singing the hair on the back of my hand. Why I thought I even needed a match was a mystery. Maybe it was a crutch I used, a confidence builder.

  Sirris and Thomas returned. “Cross, stop playing with the fire and come help us with the wood. Have you had time to look for anything to eat? I’m starving,” he complained.

  “Do I look like I’ve had time?” I shot back. I took half of Sirris’ load and piled it by the fireplace for later. Dusting my jeans, I opened the pantry doors. It was well stocked with canned goods and after some consideration I removed several cans of tomato soup and some tins of crackers and tuna for Sirris. No one touched the gas fridge. The propane had run out long before and it had been sitting, whatever was in it rotting, for well over a month. But we wouldn’t starve. Sirris rooted for a pan and Thomas went exploring in the other rooms.

  Beyond the windows it was dark as night, though it could only have been just dusk. The storm had come in with a roar, blanketing us in a foot and counting of fresh snow. The wind whistled and rattled the panes and I shuddered, a frisson of fear running along my spine.

  I looked at Sirris. “I don’t like how sudden that storm came on.” I knew I sounded grim. But she wasn’t smiling when she looked up from the gas stove where the flame sputtered.

  “No, that was way too convenient, wasn’t it? Almost as if someone or something was trying to cover their tracks.”

  “Is it possible? Can someone control the weather like that? Bring on the storm?”

  Sirris was already nodding. “Yeah, a powerful sorcerer could do it. But I’ve met no one that strong,” she admitted.

  Thomas came into the room, catching the last of our conversation, his arms loaded with blankets and pillows. He tossed them on the twin love seats, throwing a pillow and blanket on the floor between them. “A Class B could do it. Mayor Seul is the only one of that caliber I know. But whatever, It’s not enough. I’m not quitting until I know the truth.” He nodded to the pile of blankets.

  “I’ve got the floor. Now what’s to eat?”

  Sirris reached for the bowls.

  TWO DAYS LATER WE WERE sitting in the cafeteria of the Commons building having lunch. We’d made it down the mountain the next day, but there’d been no going back up. Everything north of the cabin was buried in several feet of snow. It would have been next to impossible to find anything beneath it. But Thomas was already making plans to return.

  “It had to mean something. If it was little Jacob’s shirt, well then he’s small. It would have been nothing for his little body to scoot down and get underneath those blackberry bushes. But then... why? What for? I wish we’d had more time to look. We missed it. Something important that somebody didn’t want us to find.” He continued to mull it over, reaching over without thought and snagging my last piece of pizza. I let it go. Thomas Tuttle was on a rant and I didn’t want to interrupt.

  “We’ll go back. I promise.” I stared out the window at the heavy flakes that continued to fall. Since we’d returned, winter’s last hurrah had dumped another six inches. It was unusual for this late in February, but not unheard of. “But, it might not be for a couple more weeks. Weather’s gotta break soon.” I promised.

  Sirris put her hand on his shoulder and leaned in with her chin against his arm and met his eyes. “We’re with you Thomas, all the way. You know that, right?” Thomas froze and stared at Sirris, and something flickered to life in his eyes that had nothing to do with traipsing around a mountain.

  I hid a slight smile. “She’s right. We aren’t quitting. You know what we didn’t see though? Was any trace of the Demon wolves. I mean, they had to have gone somewhere; holed up. I thought maybe we’d see a sign of them or something, you know?”

  Thomas dragged his eyes to mine and Sirris pulled away to finish her shrimp cocktail. “They’re up there though. We didn’t see any physical signs, but I could have sworn I got a whiff before we got to the cabin. Nothing after though, and that’s where I would have thought we’d find them. I don’t know what to think at this point.

  A change in the atmosphere in the cafeteria made all three of us look up. Mayor Seul was standing in the doorway leading to the main hallway out of the cafeteria. He held up a hand and waited. In a matter of seconds all speech in the cafeteria had ceased and all eyes turned his way in question.

  He cleared his throat, his eyes moving around the room until they landed on his son Nick, at our table but further down talking to Terry, Thomas’ brother. He seemed relieved to see him.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt your lunches. I’m afraid I have some rather disturbing news. There’s been an attack on the mountain. Two hikers were assaulted and left for dead three days ago. They are under sedation and I’ll let you know more about their condition as we find out. Until then, I’m changing the curfew to dusk, and that includes the weekends. I’m sorry, but I have to think about the safety of our civilians and students here at Rule 9. I’ll let you know once whoever is responsible is apprehended, until then I’m going to ask for your patience and support. Be careful and adhere to the buddy system. Don’t go anywhere alone. Thank you.

  As he finished, he moved in our direction. I snagged his attention before he went past. Something was really bothering me. He bent down and I whispered just loud enough for him to hear me
. “I thought the Demon wolves were only on the outside of Shephard’s Mountain. No one’s located them yet, have they?” He frowned at the three of us and stood up, looking confused.

  “I don’t think you understand. This has nothing to do with what’s on Shephard’s mountain. This attack was inside Drae Hallow. In Bane forest to be exact, and it was no wolf.” He left us then and moved down to talk to Nick. My eyes flew to Sirris in shock.

  “Bane forest,” she breathed.

  Thomas gripped his tray and prepared to get up. “It might not have been a wolf, but I’m not so sure it’s not connected.” He hissed as he strode away.

  Sirris watched him go. She glanced at me.

  “You think he might be right, don’t you?” she asked.

  I stared at her. “I think we should consider the possibility, yeah?” I picked up my tray and got up to follow him.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  It was the middle of March before the weather broke enough to risk a second trip up the mountain. Several days of warmer air and brilliant sun had turned the heavy drifts into ribbons of icy water that snaked downhill and turned everything into a sea of mud. It was a Friday and just to be cautious, we’d brought a change of clothes in case we were later than intended and ended up at the cabin again.

  I listened to the footfalls behind me as I followed Sirris and Thomas. Nick was getting better in the woods, his steps nearly as quiet as mine. I hadn’t invited him, but he must have overheard us making plans. He’d showed up with Thomas, packed and ready that morning.

  I’d controlled my temper, but only just. I figured the wicked glare I dashed his way and the refusal to speak to him for the last hour was message enough.

  I didn’t want to admit that having an extra set of eyes and a bit of sorcery might come in handy.

 

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