The human population planned to participate as well. Although everyone worried about the dragon and the missing taxes, a spirit of optimism buoyed the citizens of Flotsam. They had their lady sheriff to handle the crisis, so something would work out.
Only the councilmembers seemed subdued. Saorsha, Aylesworthy, and old Mayor Efrim walked around town looking like doomsayers. Lucy watched them worriedly and tried several times to talk to them, but they avoided her more and more, and when she could corner one or more, they never stayed on the same subject for long. She didn’t even have the Silver Fox to talk to. He had vanished completely without a word.
Lucy worried about him. She worried about the elders and the probable return of the Dark Knights. Most of all, she worried about Ulin. He and Notwen had been gone for seven days-days that felt like an eternity. She realized she probably shouldn’t worry yet. The trip there and back in the boat would have taken three or four days, and they still had to find her father. It could be another three or four days before she could hope to see them. She yearned for Ulin with every fiber of her being, and she was losing patience rapidly. Why had she agreed to his leaving? Please Ulin, hurry home, she pleaded silently.
Unknowingly, she increased the pressure of her legs against her horse’s sides, and he obediently broke into a rough trot. Challie jounced on the horse’s broad rump behind her.
“Lucy … please … slow down … there’s nothing … to hold!” she gasped between bumps.
Lucy quickly slowed the big bay back to a walk. “Sorry,” she apologized. “I was thinking of something else.”
“Ulin,” Challie said. It was not a question. She had seen the worry shadow Lucy’s face day by day.
Lucy’s shoulders shifted under her blue tunic. “Ever since that strange feeling I had the other day, all I want to do is see his face and know he is safe.”
So did Challie. She liked Ulin and respected his abilities. She also admired him for his willingness to help Lucy find her father. Although she would not mention it to Lucy, she thought this business of finding the thief and hauling him back to Flotsam was impossible and a waste of time. The man and the money were long gone. With only twelve days left until tax day, she thought the people of Flotsam should be busy packing to flee, not preparing for a holiday.
Each busy with her own thoughts, Lucy and Challie continued their ride out of the northern hills and down the road toward Flotsam’s city hall. They had been visiting the local farms to exchange the news and collect what taxes they could for the dreaded tax collector, and now tired and full of “just a little something before you go” snacks, they rode leisurely through the warmth of the late afternoon sun. A few drowsy flies followed them around and made the horse switch his tail occasionally.
Mayor Efrim was waiting for them when Lucy rode the horse into the back courtyard and tethered him in the shade. The old man’s hands shook as he took the small bags she brought. The lines in his face crumpled together like wadded paper, and his rhuemy eyes twitched nervously. “It’s not enough,” he murmured. His gaze went up to the sky. “Not nearly enough.”
Lucy made no answer. What was there to say? She could only collect what the law and the meager resources of Flotsam allowed.
The mayor shook his head sadly and wandered indoors, taking the bags with him.
Challie helped Lucy wipe down the gelding and water him before turning him loose in his pen. Together they strolled around the old barracks to the front steps where they could see the harbor.
It had become a habit for Lucy to scan the waterfront for any new boats, then shift her gaze to the harbor entrance to look for the approach of the Second Thoughts. She did it so many times every day that she knew every boat in the harbor, every rock that lined the shores, every curve and characteristic of the small bay. She knew when the tides changed and when the fishing boats went out, but she didn’t know when Ulin would come back. She sighed and was about to turn to go into her office, when she saw two small figures pelting along the road toward the city hall.
Challie groaned. “It’s the pests,” she remarked dryly.
Pease and Cosmo saw them and waved frantically. They shouted something, but their small voices were lost on the wind.
The women waited, curious to see what had excited the kender. Probably some old spoon or a litter of puppies or something equally as thrilling. But it was better than that.
“Lucy!” their voices trailed up the road. “He’s coming!”
Lucy stiffened, and before the meaning of their words sank into Challie’s mind, Lucy bounded down the steps and raced to meet the kender. They were bouncing up and down around Lucy when Challie finally caught up with her.
“… saw the boat from the Rock. We have Notwen’s farseeing glass. They’re just around the headland. Come on!” They ran ahead, their short legs pumping, their topknots bouncing in their rush.
Lucy and Challie followed as quickly as they could. The kender led them along the waterfront toward the path up the promontory. They dashed past the two docks and a group of fishermen’s wives mending nets, past saloons and the gaming houses and the small eatery that smelled of frying fish. They were almost to the foot of the Rock when a new sound rang loud and shrill on the afternoon wind. Surprised by the unexpected warning call, Lucy slowed to a walk.
Pease and Cosmo stopped so fast that they skidded into a rain barrel. People froze in their tracks, and the entire town of Flotsam became deathly still.
“Listen for it,” Pease said hoarsely.
Then it came. A second blast, louder and more strident than the first.
“Dragon!” Cosmo wailed.
“Cosmo!” Pease shouted. “I’ll take them below. You go find your family!”
Cosmo whirled without a word and ran up the road toward Kenderstreet several blocks away.
Lucy shaded her eyes and looked at the sky. She didn’t see anything up there, but around her the town was in an uproar. Screaming and shouting, people ran hither and thither, collecting children and belongings, dragging animals out of sight, shutting doors and shutters-as if that would do any good. It looked like the town was stricken with panic, yet Lucy noticed everyone she saw had a specific job and once it was done, they disappeared inside. There was no purposeless motion or hysterical running, and in a matter of moments, the streets were deserted. Only the dust, the flies, and a few chickens remained on the streets. She wondered how many times Flotsam’s citizens had practiced this before.
“Come on! Come on!” begged Pease.
Lucy heard a distant roar like the rush of a whirlwind. From out of the setting sun, a winged shape appeared above the western hills, sending a thrill of terror down her spine. She gasped. “Is that Malys?”
Pease cried, “No, no! Come on! This way!” He took her hand and tried to drag her with him, but she stood staring at the approaching shape in fascinated horror.
The rapid rattle and clop of a pony pulling a cart caused all three to face the street. Saorsha’s pony came trotting from the direction of city hall as fast as his short legs could move.
“Oh, Sheriff Lucy,” called Saorsha, “thank the absent gods. Come on. You must come with us.” She and Mayor Efrim sat in the cart. Both looked as white as sheets.
A spurt of alarm jabbed Lucy’s gut. “Come where?” she demanded in a hard voice.
“No time to explain,” Mayor Efrim said. He was shaking so hard he could hardly hold on to the seat as he moved over to make room for her.