“Damn,” Zanzeroth said. “We’re too late, Pertalon.”
“What’s wrong?” Pertalon asked.
Zanzeroth motioned toward Jandra. “This is where I left the body. It’s gone now.”
“I thought he was too wounded to move.”
“Jandra must have taken his corpse,” Zanzeroth said, sounding disappointed. “Damn Gadreel’s incompetence. She should have been an easy kill.”
Pertalon asked, “Who’s Jandra?”
“The wizard’s pet,” Zanzeroth said. His eyes were following her bloody footprints from her earlier trip from the throne room to the armory. Ven’s blood had been freshest then; it was the most obvious trail in the room. Zanzeroth twisted his neck around to follow the trail back into the hall. He continued his explanation of Jandra’s role in Vendevorex’s life as he studied the clues before him. “The wizard raised a human girl from infancy. The little bitch treated Vendevorex like a god. She never suspected the truth.”
“What truth?” Pertalon asked, supporting Zanzeroth as they stepped back into the hall.
“The girl was an orphan by Vendevorex’s hand,” said Zanzeroth. “The wizard killed her parents with as little thought as you or I would give to killing a fly.”
Jandra raised her hands to her mouth to silence her surprise. Zanzeroth had to be lying. But why? Why would he lie if he didn’t know she could hear? Was this a trick? Perhaps he wanted her to cry out, revealing her location.
“Let’s see where her trail leads,” Zanzeroth said. “She can’t have taken him out of the castle. We’ll come back with the ox-dogs.”
Jandra turned to Vendevorex as the voices of Zanzeroth and Pertalon faded down the hallway. The wizard lay with his head facing away from her. The phantom studied her face, his eyes sad, as if he knew some awful truth.
“Ven?” she said.
“What t-terrific luck Zanzeroth didn’t come further into the room,” the wizard whispered, looking at the wall. “We have a chance after all.”
“Agreed,” the phantom said. “I will carry you. If we can remain invisible we can slip through the gates unnoticed.”
“Ven?” Jandra said, placing her hand on his shoulder. “Why won’t you look at me?”
Vendevorex twisted his neck around to face her in a swift motion. Pain etched lines onto his face as he hissed, “Because it’s t-true.”
“What?”
Vendevorex sighed. He closed his eyes. His whole body slackened and sagged. “Years ago, when I arrived in the k-king’s court, I was no one,” he said softly. “I had no allies to convince Albekizan to take me in. I had to p-prove my abilities, to convince him I was a worthy member of his court. Albekizan tested me by having me destroy a cottage near the castle.”
Jandra shook her head, not believing what she was hearing.
Vendevorex continued. “Setting the structure ablaze was simple. Killing the man and woman within was simpler still. To further prove my power I walked through the burning house, showing that the heat and smoke couldn’t harm me. I heard your cries above the roar of the flames. I hadn’t known they had a child.”
“You killed my parents?” she said. “As… as a demonstration?”
“Yes,” he said. “But I spared you. I… I saw you in your burning bed and you looked so… innocent. That night I knew I was committing murder solely for my own selfish needs. I never lied to myself. I made the cold, calculated decision to end your parents’ lives to improve my own. But when I saw the innocence in your eyes… that was the first moment in my life I ever felt shame.”
“I can’t believe this,” she said, choking back tears.
“I-I’ve tried to make amends,” Vendevorex said, sounding as if he, too, were on the verge of tears. “I have used my powers more wisely, I hope. I try to protect life when I have the opportunity. I use my powers to harm as little as possible. You’ve taught me that all life is precious, Jandra.” He closed his eyes and shook his head remorsefully. “I made a horrible mistake that night. I only hope the intervening years have proven that I’ve since learned compassion.”
Jandra kept her eyes fixed upon his face. It was true, his words, his feelings. Remorse for the deed filled him, but didn’t change the fact. He had killed her parents. He had raised her all these years to appease his own guilt. Her relationship to him now seemed so clear. He kept her by his side to convince himself he was something better than a cold-blooded murderer.
She stood up. The cloak of invisibility around them dissolved. She turned her back on her former mentor.
“Good-bye,” she said.
“Jandra,” Vendevorex said, reaching out a feeble wing to touch her back. “I truly am sorry.”
Jandra recoiled from his touch, stepping beyond his reach. “Sorry? You think that an apology now makes up for a lie you’ve told all my life? It’s not enough, Ven. Nothing you can say will ever be enough.”
“I understand you’re hurt,” he said. “And once this is over, I understand you may desire some time apart. But you can’t leave now. Our circumstances require us to stay together, at least a while longer.”
“I think leaving now is an excellent option,” Jandra said.
“Where would you go?” he asked.
“Where I belong,” she said, running for the door as tears burst from her.
Zeeky couldn’t stop shaking. She’d been singled out with the other children earlier, into a group the dragons would eventually execute. Now the other girls and boys were free, threading back through the crowds to their parents who desperately called out their names.
No one called for her. She wasn’t so far from her home village-twenty miles at most-but she knew no one here.
She had lost Merria in the confusion so she called for her now. To her relief, Merria called back. Then Merria’s voice was cut short. Still, Zeeky headed in that direction.
“Merria!” Zeeky cried out as she spotted the girl held in Hodan’s arms. The farmer had placed his hand over Merria’s mouth. He scowled at Zeeky.
“Go away, child,” he said.
“Hodan,” Alanda whispered, “couldn’t we…?”
“Be quiet, woman,” Hodan said.
“What’s wrong?” Zeeky asked. “You said you’d look after me.”
“The evil that has fallen on our village arrived with you. The man who left you is mad, claiming to be Bitterwood. I don’t understand what has happened, but these things taint you. Kamon warned against the evils outsiders can bring.”
Zeeky couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“But-,”
“Go,” Hodan said, his eyes narrowed to hard slits.
Zeeky shut up. She saw that Hodan was serious. Alanda looked uncertain but Hodan would never let Zeeky stay with them. She wished Poocher were here now. He needed her so. She felt stronger when she cared for him. Now she had no one.
Unless Hey You was here. She thought she had heard his voice earlier but she couldn’t see a thing from where she had stood. If she could find him, he would be nice to her.
She didn’t have to look for long before she found him. His arms and legs were bound with rope and he lay on the dirt. The people of the village looked away from him, ignoring him, making a circle several steps around him for him to lie in, alone.
No one moved to stop Zeeky as she walked to him. But when she got there, his eyes were blank, staring straight ahead as if he didn’t see her.
“Hey You,” she said, crouching next to him. “It’s me. Zeeky.”
The old man didn’t answer.
Zeeky said, “I don’t know anyone. You were nice to me. Can I sit here with you?”
Still he didn’t answer.
Zeeky’s eyes blurred with tears. She said, “Please talk to me. I’m scared.”
“Hello,” a woman said from behind her as she placed her hand on Zeeky’s shoulder. “Don’t be afraid.”
Zeeky turned. The woman was beautiful with long brown hair held back by a silver tiara. She was dressed in white cotton though her clothes were covered with dark stains. Zeeky couldn’t even say hello, however, as tears choked her voice.