There was no sign of Brummgas. No scent of them, either, as he carefully tasted the night air around him.
But there was something odd, he realized as he inhaled deeply. A faint scent that smelled just vaguely familiar. A scent that reminded him somehow of Noy.
Noy?
He sniffed harder, swinging his head back and forth to try to locate the source of the scent. It was there, all right. Somewhere to the north, he decided.
North, and a little above him.
Above him?
He frowned upward. Surely Gazen's isolation hut wasn't built up in the trees.
Besides, the scent wasn't strong enough to be coming from Noy himself.
He hesitated; but his instincts said this was worth checking out. Making sure his backpack was secure, he headed north.
Almost immediately, the "above" part began to make sense. Behind a clump of bushes the ground began to rise, and he found himself climbing one of the many low ridges he'd already noted in this area. The scent was still faint, but growing stronger with each step, and he continued on until he reached the very top of the ridge.
And there, camouflaged with dead leaves and grass, was a large mechanical device built from branches and bits of metal and wire and plastic.
It was a glider. And not just a glider, but a glider sitting on a makeshift catapult.
For a minute Draycos walked around the contraption, marveling at the ingenuity of its design. He was mostly a ground warrior, and certainly no expert at flying machines. But he was familiar enough with them to know a properly built one when he saw it.
This one was indeed properly built. All it would take would be some cranking on the catapult, a stretching and tightening of the elastic ropes already in place, and the glider would shoot off the ridge and soar into the sky.
Directly into the lasers and flame jets waiting in the white wall.
For a moment he stood there, the breeze vibrating against the straps of his backpack. Had its builders learned about the lasers and abandoned their scheme?
Or were they still ignorant of the deadly dangers lurking at the top of the wall, and were merely waiting for the proper time to attempt their escape?
Should he disable the craft to make sure none of the slaves took off to their deaths?
But no. He would warn Jack, certainly, and through Jack try to warn whoever had created this marvel. But it wasn't his place to destroy it. Turning away from the glider, he headed east.
The first of the small huts was empty. In the second, he found Noy.
He crept up on the hut from downwind, sampling the air carefully as he went.
If the Brummgas were still looking for whoever had been digging into their hedge, they might have left a guard to watch the boy.
But there was no scent in the area but Noy's. Once again, it seemed, Gazen and his people had ignored an obvious security point. Mentally shaking his head, he eased the door open.
He had hoped to be quiet enough that the boy would sleep through his visit.
But even as he pushed the door open, he realized he had miscalculated. Noy was only half-asleep, tossing and turning on his cot, muttering softly and incoherently under his breath.
And as the breeze whistled through the hut, Noy's sweaty face turned toward him.
The half-open eyes went a little wider...
Draycos froze in the doorway, waiting for him to shout or scream. But all that escaped Noy's lips was a small whimper. "Are you here to take me?" he whispered.
The tip of Draycos's tail curled in a frown. "What do you mean?" he asked.
"Is it time?" Noy asked, his voice a little louder and trembling like a flower in an earthquake.
"Time?"
The boy took a shuddering breath. "Is it time for me to die?"
CHAPTER 26
Draycos's first instinct was to get out of there. To duck out of sight, pull the door closed with the tip of his tail, and come back later when he could deliver his package without being seen. In Noy's feverish state, surely the boy would decide afterward that this had been just a dream.
But the very unexpectedness of Noy's question had nailed his paws to the floor.
And now he was stuck. Because there was no way he could leave a sick child wondering if he was about to die. Especially not when he thought the appearance of a K'da warrior was the omen of that death.
"No," he assured the boy in his calmest voice. "It is not time. Not at all."
The boy blinked. "But—"
"I have brought you some food," Draycos explained. Coming all the way into the hut, he closed the door behind him. "Also some fruit juice," he added. "You must be very thirsty."
The boy stared as Draycos came around the side of the bed, never taking his eyes off the K'da for a moment. "You are thirsty, are you not?" Draycos tried again as he slipped off his backpack.
Noy nodded silently. "It is well that I brought this, then," Draycos went on, choosing one of the bottles and prying off the seal. "I hope you like... I believe this is called grappo juice." He held the bottle toward Noy.
The boy's mouth worked as if he was trying to say something. His gaze had shifted now from the K'da's face to the bottle, and the claws holding it. "Go ahead," Draycos said encouragingly, moving it a little closer to him. "It will be good for you. Drink."
Slowly, Noy took the bottle. Staring down into it, he lifted it to his mouth.
A few drops slithered down the corners of his lips. But most of that first drink made it inside where it belonged. "How does it taste?" Draycos asked.
Noy looked up at the K'da, then back into the depths of the bottle. "A little funny," he said.
"Yes, that is the way of a fever," Draycos agreed. "Foods often do not taste normal."
Noy drank again. Then, all at once, the strength seemed to go out of his arms.
The bottle started to slip from his grip—
Draycos's forepaw snaked out smoothly, catching the bottle before it could fall.
"Very good," he said as he set it down beside the cot where Noy could reach it.
"Perhaps you should rest now. You can drink more in a little while."
"Okay," the boy said. He was starting to sag a little, and his breathing seemed more labored. "Could I have—" He paused, looking around as if searching for something.
"Another drink?" Draycos suggested, picking up the bottle. "Certainly. Allow me to hold it for you."
The boy drank deeper this time before coming up for air. "Still tastes funny," he said, panting a little. His eyelids were definitely sagging now.
"It will taste better tomorrow," Draycos said, wishing he had had more experience with human sicknesses. Too late, he wished he'd thought to bring Jack's comm clip out here with him. Perhaps Uncle Virge could have helped him know how to deal with it. "I will give you one more drink, then I shall let you rest."
"No!" Noy gasped. His hand fumbled for Draycos's forepaw, gripping it with an odd combination of desperation and weakness. "Don't leave me. Please. Don't leave me."
Draycos twitched his tail in surprise. "I must," he said. "I cannot stay."
"No," Noy said. His voice had sunk to a whisper, as if he had already used up all of his remaining strength. "Please."
Draycos reached out with his other forepaw and stroked the boy's sweaty forehead. A bitter memory floated up in front of his eyes: the dead Shontine aboard his ship, the Havenseeker, after the enemy ambush over Iota Klestis.
Friends, companions, and fellow warriors; but there had been nothing he could do for them. Noy, in contrast, was almost a stranger.
But unlike those dead friends, there was something Draycos could do for him.
Something small; perhaps even something meaningless. But something.
"Very well," he told the boy quietly. "I will stay with you, for as long as I can. Lie down, now, and rest."
Noy's eyes were already closed as he sank back down onto his cot. "Don't leave me," the boy murmured again. "I'm scared."