by Jekka Jones
“A nightmare,” Landon murmured. The rope around his chest went slack, and he cried out as a section of reptilian skin went with it. When did he get scales?
“It’s okay, Landon,” said Mr. Higgins. He took off his coat and covered Landon. “Can you walk?”
Landon was thoroughly confused now. “I’m tied to the chair.”
The other two people returned. “That toad’s on his way. We have to get out of here,” said one. He sounded like one of Myra’s older brothers, Jake.
“They did something to Landon,” Will explained. “He’s acting like he’s . . . drunk.” Panic edged his voice.
“Poisoned,” Landon corrected. His mind began to drift towards unconsciousness. Maybe he could sleep for a couple seconds before Tan’Loraen returned.
Powerful arms grabbed him and pulled him to his feet. Landon whimpered as his legs seized and burned from taking his weight. His arms were draped around Mr. Higgins’ and Will’s shoulders, and they began to walk. He struggled to get his feet working, but his boots were cumbersome and heavy. He felt lightheaded, and a waterfall of some sort streamed down his body. He felt the droplets quicken from his nose. They turned into diamonds that clattered onto the floor.
“His nose is bleeding,” said Jake. “Hand me that, will you?”
Something soft and brown pressed against Landon’s nose, making it difficult to breathe.
“Let’s get him outside,” said Mr. Higgins. “Eddie, Jake, you two go through the window first and we’ll lower him down to you.”
Through his swimming vision, Landon saw the two men who resembled Myra’s brothers slip through the window. In a blur, he was through the window and sitting on the ground with his back against the brick wall. The cool night air soothed his senses, and his head began to clear. Eight more people clustered around him, and one dabbed at his face with a handkerchief. In the light from the courthouse, Landon recognized the man instantly.
“Sam?”
Doctor Sam Perkins’ smile was not enough to mask the concern in his eyes. “Good to see you too, Landon.” The doctor began buttoning up the coat around him. Watching the doctor work the buttons, Landon puzzled over what he was seeing. Up until now, none of his hallucinations involved him leaving the chair, let alone escaping. Could it be real?
“All right, Landon, your nose has stopped bleeding for now,” Sam said. “Do you have any broken bones? Anything I should know about?”
“I don’t know if this is real or not,” Landon said. He hoped it was real. He didn’t want to wake up tied to the chair with Tan’Loraen hovering over him.
“He said he was poisoned,” Will replied. “And we found a plate with some herbs burning on it. I couldn’t tell what they were, but they started to give me a headache.”
Sam’s mouth pressed into an angry white line, and he took Landon’s head between both his hands. “Landon, this is very real. You are not imagining any of this.” He said it slowly and emphasized his words with a gentle squeeze. “Do you understand?”
Still unsure but willing to trust, Landon nodded. Sam stood, and Landon was lifted to his feet once more. With a whispered word of caution, the group of Nircanians set off towards the back of the courthouse. It was slow going, yet the group stayed together. Landon was able to work his feet, but Will and Mr. Higgins still carried him between them.
The gallows appeared in front of them, and Landon faltered. “No,” he whispered, horrified.
He knew Nircana had gallows, but he had never seen them. The judges didn’t want people to delight in executions, even if the criminal deserved it, so they had built the gallows behind the courthouse. It was out of sight from the busy main street, and the bleachers for the judges and peacekeepers blocked any view from the nearby buildings. Even then, Landon wasn’t prepared to see Morgan dangling from the noose.
“Landon, what is it?” Sam whispered. He looked from Landon, to the gallows, and back again. “What do you see?”
“Sam, we don’t—” Will began, but Sam shushed him.
“It’s Morgan,” Landon said, and a sob escaped him. “They hanged him!”
Morgan’s head was cocked in an unnatural angle. He swayed in the breeze, grinning at Landon with blank eyes. Even as Landon stared at it, he knew it wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. Morgan was in Tsuregi.
“Landon,” said Sam gently, “there’s no one there. It’s empty.”
“They killed him. . . .”
“Landon. It’s empty,” Sam persisted. “Let’s keep going.” Once again, Sam and Will forced Landon to move. Landon tore his eyes from the hallucination, and when he glanced back, Morgan and the noose was gone.
“Where’s Temmings and the others?” Mr. Higgins asked.
“Around here some—” Sam began but he was cut off by the courthouse bells ringing into the night. The tolls ripped into Landon’s head, and he cried out in pain. Shouts came from the building, and men began pouring out of the disassembled window. Landon saw more running along the main and side streets.
“Quick, under the stands,” Sam said. Everyone sprinted for the bleachers and disappeared under the bottom steps. Landon tried to run, but he was weak and shaky. Will and Mr. Higgins practically carried him to the nearest bleachers, helped him to his knees, and pulled him underneath. Will crawled towards a group of people, and Landon tried to follow. His body ached with each movement, and his breath rasped in his sore throat. Mr. Higgins kept up a steady flow of encouragement beside him until they reached the group. Without bothering to see who else was there, Landon collapsed onto the ground.
Soldiers were swarming around the gallows. Landon heard Tan’Loraen shouting orders and the thumping of dragon wings taking to the skies. Exhausted, Landon closed his eyes and prayed he could sleep through the commotion. He began to drift when two fingers pressed into his neck, luring him back to the waking world.
“What’re ya doin’?” Landon asked, and forced his eyes open.
Sam jumped and heaved a sigh of relief. “Checking your pulse. You’re very weak and dehydrated.” He frowned and leaned closer to examine Landon’s neck. “That looks like a rash from poison holly. Did they burn that?”
“I don’t know.”
“It probably was. I wish I had something, even just a cup of water, to give you,” Sam muttered. Landon wanted to ask if he had been captured and then freed too, but he was too tired. There was movement behind him, and he felt someone join them.
“How is he, Doc?” The man’s voice was familiar, but Landon couldn’t recall his name or where he had met him.
“Bad. I think they drugged him with every toxic herb imaginable and he’s severely dehydrated.” A beam of light from one of the soldiers’ lanterns fell on Sam’s face, illuminating the lines of worry around his eyes. “How are we going to get out of here, Michael? Landon’s in no condition to run, and Deborah has a sprained ankle.”
Michael? Judge Temmings. Landon needed to tell the chief judge something, but what?
“Maybe we can cause a distraction,” Will said. “We can run out and attack them while the rest of you slip away.”
“Out of the question,” said Temmings. “You freed me and the other judges, along with Landon, and those men know it. They will not hesitate to kill you as they did with Laura and her group. I will not have another death on my conscious.”
Killed. Death. These words set off bells in Landon’s brain but he couldn’t remember why. His head pounded with the effort to think.
“Should we sit and wait?” Mr. Higgins suggested. “Maybe we can slip away before the sun comes up.”
“And let Landon deal with whatever those monsters did to him?” Will countered. Landon heard him struggle to keep his voice quiet. “No. I won’t sit around and watch my little brother suffer.”
They fell silent. A pair of boots tramped along the bottom rows, and Landon heard Tan’Loraen ordering some soldiers to search the nearby buildings. For all the chaos happening, Landon noticed the Dagnorian was cool and unco
ncerned.
“The boy is with them and that will slow them down,” Tan’Loraen said in response to a soldier’s report. “When you find them, bring them here. I would like to see how long the boy stays quiet once we start hanging his friends one by one.”
That jolted Landon’s brain to his senses, and he remembered. He sat up so quickly that Sam and Temmings started. Landon peered through the gaps in the planks until he located Tan’Loraen. He made out a little bit of the Dagnorian, and spotted his sword fastened to the man’s waist. The treaty was an unfortunate loss, but Landon could not leave without the Seal. He could not risk it being returned to Tsuregi, not while the kings were willing to amend the treaty.
Landon pushed himself onto his knees, ignoring the desperate pleas from Sam and Will for him to lie still. “He has my sword,” he croaked. His body was so weak, but determination kept him upright. “I need my sword.”
“Lan, I know that belongs to you and your parents, but now is not the time to save a relic,” Will said. He spoke in a loud whisper with his mouth right next to Landon’s ear. “Don’t risk your life for a mangy piece of metal.”
“That piece of metal is the reason the Dagnorians are here. I can’t let them keep it. Please, trust me,” he said, looking at Judge Temmings. “That sword is important. It’s a long story, but we have to have it.”
“Does it have something to do with a wizard’s amulet I keep hearing about?” Temmings asked softly.
Landon nodded vehemently. That simple movement caused his arms, which had been supporting most of his weight, to wobble and collapse. His poisoned mind conjured Angen’s face underneath him, and a strangled cry ripped from his throat. Will clamped a hand over Landon’s mouth, but the damage was done.
Tan’Loraen stopped pacing. Not a sound could be heard except for the distant shouts of men. Landon scanned the gaps in the planks for signs of soldiers standing around the gallows. He saw a few moving in the entrance to the alleys, but otherwise the area was clear.
Tan’Loraen started laughing. “Tell me, boy, did your people leave you behind, or are they cowering in the dark with you?”
Landon didn’t move or make a noise. He exchanged a terrified look with Will, and Mr. Higgins uttered a whispered prayer.
Tan’Loraen walked over to the side of the bleachers and drew the sword. Landon saw the Dagnorian’s eyes raking the shadows, and he was grateful for the many beams and weak light. Will was gripping his left shoulder so hard Landon knew a bruise was forming.
Tan’Loraen twirled the sword as if bored. “I know you are there, Landon Dayn. Will I have to order my men to drag you and your friends out of there, or will you come out yourself?” He tested the edge of the sword with his hand. “I promise no harm will come to any of you.”
Landon glared at Tan’Loraen, angry that the Dagnorian would make a promise he had no intention of keeping. He gathered his breath to shout, but Temmings’ hand covered his mouth. In the dim light, their eyes met and the chief judge of Nircana whispered, “Tell him that you’re alone and you’re coming out.”
Landon shook his head, but Temmings repeated the request. “Trust me, Landon,” Temmings whispered again. “Tell him you’re alone and coming out.”
The shadows moved, and Landon saw other Nircanians creeping forward, most of them he recognized as peacekeepers, one of them being Constable Carlton Johnston. Knives glinted in the dark and others hefted pieces of wood like clubs. They positioned themselves so they remained hidden in the shadows but could leap at Tan’Loraen. Working up the courage, Landon nodded. Temmings removed his hand and mouthed, “Now.”
“I-I’m alone,” Landon said, as loud as his throat allowed. “I’m coming out. P-please don’t hurt me.”
Temmings turned and began to half-crawl half-drag himself towards Tan’Loraen. His movements must have been convincing because Tan’Loraen laughed again.
“Alone? Do you mean your people shoved you under the steps and fled? And here you were prepared to die for them.” He sheathed the sword and folded his arms. “Then again, I am sure they knew you would slow them down.”
Temmings gestured to Landon to keep talking, and he did. “They went to get the doctor,” Landon said. “You weren’t supposed to find out I was gone until . . . until morning.”
“Yes, they were clever. The courthouse seemed so secure, despite being built by vagabonds. Drugging the guards in the prison and then taking apart the windows on the second floor was something I did not expect. No doubt they used a rope to get in and out from there and saw you. But I will fix that problem and ensure you are never taken from me again.” Tan’Loraen smiled, and Landon trembled. Will gave him a reassuring squeeze, but it did nothing to ease his nerves.
Temmings was almost to the edge of the shadows. Tan’Loraen saw him and took an eager step forward, extending an arm. “Here, boy, let me help you up.”
Before Landon could say anything, Temmings answered. “No thanks. I can do it myself.” He launched himself at Tan’Loraen. There was a split second where shock registered on the Dagnorian’s face, and then Temmings tackled him to the ground. Temmings slammed his fist into Tan’Loraen’s mouth before he could yell. Tan’Loraen’s eyes rolled into his skull, and Temmings dragged him under the bleachers. Johnston and several other peacekeepers shot forward to help.
“Here, Landon,” said Johnston. He unbuckled the sword from Tan’Loraen and passed it to Landon.
Landon took it, threaded the strap through the buckle, and slung it over his shoulder. He stared at Tan’Loraen’s prone form. “What are you going to do with him?” he whispered.
Temmings stared at Tan’Loraen for a moment, and then said, “Tie him up and bring him.”
“Shouldn’t we just kill him?” asked one of the peacekeepers.
“No,” said Johnston. The constable moved to crouch beside Temmings. “If we kill him then the Dagnorians will just turn around and slaughter our people as retribution. It’d be better to take him with us and use him as a hostage. We can demand our people’s freedom with the emperor’s lap dog in our hands.”
Temmings and the nearby peacekeepers began binding Tan’Loraen’s hands. Landon watched as a pool of water trickled from the Dagnorian’s mouth, and Landon gazed at it longingly. He was so thirsty. As if on cue, it began to rain. He gave a cry of relief and held up a cupped hand. To his disappointment, the water turned to vapor as soon as it touched his skin. He put his hand in a forming puddle, but it evaporated on touch.
“Landon, it’s not real,” Sam reminded him, worried.
“I know,” Landon said, and he buried his head in his hands. “Sam, make it stop. Please, make it stop. I’m so thirsty.” He could feel and hear the rain pattering around them, sizzling whenever it struck his skin and clothes.
“Micheal,” said Sam, “we need to go. Now.”
Temmings nodded. “Is there anyone in the area?”
“I don’t see any guards,” said a peacekeeper from the other end of the bleachers. “There are dragons overhead, but they won’t see us if we stick to the shadows.”
“Let’s go then,” said Johnston. “Casey, Brian, help me drag out this slimy piece of human flesh so I can pick him up.”
The two judges came forward and helped Temmings and Johnston drag Tan’Loraen out of the bleachers. Landon expected days of imprisonment and torture to have taken its toll on the judges, but they had no problem moving the dead weight. Landon remembered most of the judges having a bit of a belly. Imprisonment had replaced their weight with lean muscle, and a few sported bruises and cuts on their faces and arms, including the two female judges. Despite that and their torn, ragged clothes, the judges’ eyes burned with confidence and pride. A wave of respect rushed over Landon, and he knew without a doubt these men could be trusted.
Once free of the bleachers, Johnston took Tan’Loraen’s arms, and levered him onto his shoulder like baggage. The peacekeepers and judges crept into the gallows square, weapons raised and poised to throw should any of Tan
’Loraen’s men appear.
“Let’s go, Lan,” said Will, nudging Landon’s shoulder. They crept from beneath the bleachers, and Will helped him stand. “Lean on me as much as you need to, bro. We just need to make it to the inn where we can hide in the cellar until tomorrow night. Sam stashed his medical bag there. We’ll be back to normal in no time.”
Landon barely heard him. It was taking all of his concentration to keep walking. The cobblestones changed from bubbling pits of molasses to thorny vines that wrapped around his boots and made him stumble. Landon had to keep telling himself it wasn’t real, even going as far as voicing it out loud. It became a mantra that echoed in his ears.
“Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real.”
“That’s right, Lan,” said Will encouragingly. “Just keep walking. You’re doing great.”
Landon, Will, and the others were almost to an alley when a sudden yell rent the air. “Dragons! Dragons! Dragons to me!”
Everyone, including Landon, whirled around. Tan’Loraen was bucking on Johnston’s back, yelling at the top of his lungs. Another peacekeeper dashed forward to clamp a hand over the Dagnorian’s mouth, but he too let out a yell of pain, snapping back his hand. Shouts and dragon cries sounded from the surrounding buildings. Tan’Loraen squirmed until Johnston was forced to drop him. The judges and other peacekeepers darted forward to help but he waved them away.
“Go!” Johnston yelled. “Don’t worry about him. Go! Go!” To prove his point, he began to run.
No one argued. They turned and ran for the alleys as soldiers swarmed from every direction. The Nircanians threw their knives and clubs with deadly accuracy into the oncoming masses, and the soldiers’ way became impeded from the wounded. Will pulled Landon with him, goading him to run. Landon did his best, his heart beating so hard it hurt. The cobblestones continued to morph into hallucinations that grabbed at his feet. The sword flopped around on his back, useless against so many soldiers even if he was in perfect health.
Out of the corner of his eye, Landon saw a spear hurtle towards him and his brother. He shouted, and Will swerved them both to the side. The spear ricocheted off the ground and right into a soldier’s leg. The soldier let out an unmanly squawk, stumbled, and fell to the ground. Will darted forward and slammed his fist into the soldier’s mouth. The soldier moaned and didn’t get up.