“Of course,” Blasphet said, his eyes glittering with the light of victory. “But I already know how you will answer.”
Despite her exhaustion, Jandra couldn’t sleep. Kanst had marched them nonstop through the day with no break for food or water. Any who stumbled or fell behind had been quickly motivated with whips to keep up the pace. When night fell Kanst had allowed them to drop, too weary to fight or protest, beside a small, muddy pond in the middle of a pasture. For dinner, the dragons passed around sacks of half rotten seed potatoes they’d scavenged from the village. The dragons slaughtered the cows they found in the pasture and the smell of charred meat hung in the air. The humans would get no taste of this.
The dragons set up tents for themselves, but no shelter, not even blankets, had been provided for the humans. The villagers all huddled together for warmth. Jandra wrapped her arm around Zeeky who was now sound asleep. The child hadn’t complained once during their long march.
Jandra studied the stars, trying to make some sense of Kanst’s reasons for the forced march. What did this talk of a “Free City” mean? Why hadn’t Kanst simply slaughtered the villagers where he found them?
A sky-dragon circled high overhead, a dark blot against the night sky.
Vendevorex?
No. Most likely it was one of the aerial guard, flying on routine duty. If Vendevorex had followed, he would certainly be invisible. It was foolish to think he would follow. Never mind that he’d been too weak to even stand when she left him; he’d proven by word and deed that he was too cowardly to fight. Jandra pushed back thoughts of her former mentor. This was the problem with being raised by someone who knew how to become invisible: every time she looked over her shoulder to see nothing, it only fueled her suspicions that he was there. Perhaps in time she would stop seeing him in any small flicker of shadow. She had to accept the reality that she would be better off never seeing Vendevorex again.
She couldn’t believe how good the dragons’ meals smelled. The aroma taunted her.
Carefully Jandra slid from Zeeky’s embrace. She spread her cloak over the child then, glancing around to make sure no one watched her, she tossed a handful of silver dust into the air.
Jandra moved invisibly among the sleeping humans, toward a small circle of five guards gathered around a fire for warmth. They were gnawing on charred bones.
“Can’t be him. Seeing what they want to see,” one of the guards said.
“He’s supposed to be a ghost,” another said. “How can chains hold a ghost?”
The third grunted. “Who cares if it’s him or not? If Kanst and Albekizan are satisfied by killing him, our lives will be easier.”
“It must be him,” said another. “He had the arrows.”
“Should’ve killed him where he stood,” said the fifth dragon, tossing a gnawed thighbone over his shoulder. “I can’t believe Kanst is actually sharing a tent with the monster.”
Jandra grabbed the bone from the dirt. There was still quite a bit of meat on it. Earth-dragons were sloppy eaters. She shoved the meat into a pocket in her cloak and moved on.
She went in search of Kanst’s tent. That task proved simple enough-his was the largest and surrounded by the most guards. Unfortunately, some of the guards held ox-dogs on chain leashes. Invisibility wouldn’t fool an ox-dog. Still, the guards and dogs looked as worn out and ready for sleep as the villagers were. Indeed, one of the dogs was already snoring. She held her breath and tiptoed between them.
She moved toward the tent flap. As she reached for it, the flap took on a life of its own, pushing outward. She jumped back as Kanst emerged from the tent. Jandra scrambled to move out of his way. Invisible or not, it wasn’t difficult to be discovered if a creature with a forty-foot wingspan brushed up against you. Kanst’s whiplike tail swung toward her and she skipped over it like a rope.
“Make sure no one gets in,” Kanst said to the guards. “I go to consult Zanzeroth.”
Kanst lumbered off into the night. Once the general was safely out of earshot, one of the guards muttered to another, “Going to consult that keg of goom in the hunter’s tent is more like it.”
Jandra slid between the gap in the tent flaps.
In the dim light she could barely see Pet lying prone on Kanst’s huge battle chest. Manacles held his arms and legs to the four corners of the lid, and a steel collar was fastened around his neck.
He lay still as death. Her heart sank.
But why would they bother to chain a dead man?
She moved closer until she could hear his breathing. She had expected to find him bruised and bloodied but he looked unharmed. Kanst apparently wanted his prize delivered in good health.
Becoming visible, she carefully placed her hand over his mouth as he slept. He stirred to wakefulness.
“It’s me,” she said. “Don’t be scared.”
“Jandra,” Pet whispered as she removed her hand. “What are you doing here? And what on earth have you done to your hair?”
“I’m not here to discuss grooming. I’ve come to rescue you.”
“Don’t,” Pet said. “I’ve made my choice.”
“Pretending you’re Bitterwood isn’t going to solve things. You saved the hostages for the moment but Albekizan’s death warrant on all humans is still in place. I need every ally I can muster. I want you free and fighting.”
“I’m no warrior,” Pet said. “We both know that. I’m only an actor, a pretender. I told you, if I could help people by acting, I would. Who knew I’d get my chance so soon? When they take me before Albekizan, I know he’ll kill me. Perhaps my death will assuage his anger. He might call off his order of genocide.”
“Or maybe you’ll have died in vain.”
“Your words of encouragement are a great comfort to me,” Pet said.
“Sorry. But you don’t have to die. I’m working on a plan to stop Albekizan.”
“How?”
“The first step is to rescue you. Then…” Jandra hoped for inspiration. It didn’t come. “To be honest, I’m still fleshing out the rest of the plan.”
“If you’re here, Vendevorex must have come to your way of thinking,” Pet said. “What help can I be compared to him?”
“Ven isn’t with me,” Jandra said.
“Oh. He didn’t pull through?”
“I’d rather not discuss it.”
“But, if Vendevorex-”
“Stop,” Jandra said, raising her hand. “I’m not here to discuss Vendevorex. I’m here to save you so you can help me in my fight to save mankind.”
“As an army of two?” Pet said. “I think I currently have the better plan.”
“When did you get so brave? I think I liked you better when you were-”
“Cowardly?” Pet interjected.
Jandra shrugged. “More protective of your self interests.”
“I didn’t do this for you. I told you, the villagers weren’t strangers to me. I’ve done what I could over the years to help them. And they… Well, some of them… some of the young women… have, um, been grateful.”
“What are you saying?”
“Chakthalla would never have allowed me to select a permanent mate from among the villagers but she couldn’t know everything I was up to. If I had allowed Kanst to slaughter the village children he might have been killing my offspring.”
Jandra’s heart sank. Of course, she should have known that he’d use his privileges and talents to seduce the village girls. He’d tried to bed her after ten minutes of conversation. She was shocked to find an icy vein of jealousy running through her body. Why? She didn’t have any romantic feelings for him, did she?
Pet seemed to sense her disappointment. “I’m sorry. I haven’t been a saint. Maybe what I’m doing will make up a little for the self-centered way I’ve lived. Don’t worry about me. This is just another performance, one last moment on the stage. You know I love being the center of attention.”
Jandra nodded. Her eyes blurred with tears. “You do what you have to,” she said, her voice wavering.