The night had grown exceptionally dark. The moon had crawled from the sky hours ago. Soon it would be dawn. From outside the walls he could hear the distant shouts of dragons and the crying of children, human children. He peered over the wall as they moved but all he could make out of the surrounding village was dim shadows. Had the invaders turned their attack against the village? He hoped not. He knew quite a few of the village women; indeed, there were many fair-haired children of the village he suspected were his own. He hoped they would be all right. If he had Bitterwood's skill in combat, he'd be out there now, saving the villagers. But he was no fighter. He was an acrobat, an artist, and actor. If there were some way to save the villagers by putting on a costume and reciting a dramatic monologue, he'd be the right man for the job.
They descended from the wall through the tower, moving toward the armory. They paused as they approached the door. From inside came torchlight and the scuffles of something moving around.
"Go ahead," Jandra whispered. "They can't see us. See who it is."
He crept carefully forward peeking into the door. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw it was a human moving inside.
But as he exhaled the man reacted, spinning around toward the noise. It was Bitterwood and he fired an arrow toward the doorway before Pet could even blink. The arrow whizzed over his shoulder, barely missing his ear.
"Hey!" Pet shouted.
"Wait! It's only us!" Jandra shouted, and the air before Pet sparked and swirled.
Bitterwood's eyes grew wide. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?" he said. "You take a foolish gamble creeping up on me."
"Don't you bother to look where you're shooting?" Pet said.
"I don't always have that luxury," Bitterwood said. "I've saved my life many times over by firing blindly." Bitterwood shook his head , then leaned against the wall for support. "You should be grateful it's been such a long night. Were I not so tired... Were I ten years younger... I wouldn't have missed."
"It doesn't look like you miss often," Jandra said. "It looks like you've killed all the dragons... on our our side. Now that you've killed our defenders, would it be asking too much to kill some of the dragons attacking the castle?" side. Now that you've killed our defenders, would it be asking too much to kill some of the dragons attacking the castle?"
"There won't be time," Bitterwood said. "It will be morning soon. I strike at night."
"Easier to hide when it's dark, isn't it, 'hero?'" Pet said.
"Yes," Bitterwood said. "Precisely." He then returned to the work he'd been doing when they'd interrupted. The armory was in shambles, ransacked by the invaders, but some weapons remained. Bitterwood was gathering what arrows he could find from the clutter. Pet wondered if he should mention the arrows that had fallen from Bitterwood's own quiver that still lay beneath the window in Chakthalla's throne room.
"The legends say you only use arrows you make yourself," Jandra said.
"Some legends also say I can fly," Bitterwood said. "Fletching my arrows with dragon scales gives my attacks a greater psychological impact. Still, an arrow guided by a goose feather can do the job just as well."
"Leave some arrows for us," Pet said, finding a longbow leaning against the wall. "Lucky they didn't take this. This is a good bow."
"Not that lucky. Dragons are mediocre with bows, at best," Bitterwood said. "The red and blue ones prefer to fight when flying, using a long spear held with their hind claws. The green ones sometimes use bows but they can't hit the broadside of a barn. They're only effective in mass attacks, not in attacking an individual target. I don't think an earth-dragon can focus on distant objects as well as we can." He handed Pet a handful of arrows. "If you have the guts to fight a dragon, a bow's a good choice. Pick your target and don't panic, and you can kill them before they ever get close."
"I have the guts, old man," Pet said.
"I doubt it," Bitterwood said. "But I guess you'll find out."
Bitterwood placed the rest of the arrows he'd gathered into his quiver and walked past Pet and Jandra with no further word.
"Bastard," Pet snarled as the archer vanished around the corner.
"I noticed he escaped with his teeth," Jandra said.
Pet shrugged. "He's an old guy a foot shorter than me. It wouldn't be fair to fight him."
"Not fair to you, maybe."
"Would you stop taunting me? I'm not a-"
"We'd better get back," Jandra said, cutting him off. "It can't be long before morning."
Almost as if it had heard her words, a cock began to crow in the distance.
After Jandra again made them invisible, Pet led her back up the tower to cross the wall leading to the throne room. The sky had brightened in the east since they had passed by minutes before. In the fields below he could see the enemy army, gathered together in a huge circle, and within the circle stood the villagers.
"What are they doing?" he asked, stopping to study the scene.
"I don't know," Jandra said. "But it doesn't look as if they're getting ready to attack. Maybe Vendevorex will have time to heal."
In the middle of the circle, Pet could see three flat-bedded wagons, drawn together to make a large platform. A huge sun-dragon stood on the platform with metal armor gleaming on his chest.
"Damn," said Jandra. "That's Kanst. He answers directly to Albekizan."
"What's he up to? Why has he gathered the villagers?"
"Who knows?" Jandra said. "Let's get back."
"Not yet," Pet said. "I want to find out what's going on. I know many of these people." Although from this distance, he couldn't recognize anyone.
"There's not time for this," Jandra said, tugging his arm. "Vendevorex has been alone too long already."
Pet held his ground. "This is something important. I can feel it."
"Maybe Kanst is just going to lay down the law for the locals. Tell them they have new bosses now."
Pet was annoyed by Jandra's dismissive tone. "What will it take to make you take me seriously for once? I want to watch this. We need to know what the enemy is up to if we want to get out of here alive, right?"
Jandra grimaced. "Okay. Fine. Stay here. I'm going back."
"I won't be invisible if you leave."
"Nobody's left to bother you." Jandra waved her hands toward the corpse of a fallen guard. "Stay low on the wall. They can't see you from down there. Don't be such a crybaby."
"Arg!" Pet cried in frustration. Then, worried that he'd been loud enough to be heard below, he hunched lower to the wall and whispered, "Will you stop that? What is it going to take to make you stop thinking I'm a coward? I attacked a dragon with a spear three times too big for me to use properly. I've stuck by your side to help you save your master when I could have just ran. What does it take to impress you? Do I have to go down there and fight them all by myself?"
"Aw. Have I hurt your feelings?" Jandra asked.
"Yes!" Pet hissed. "I don't think I deserve this constant ridicule."
"Okay," she said. "I'll try to space it out more."
Pet threw his hands in the air. "Fine!" he said. "I'll stay here alone. Get back to your master."
"I told you not to call him my master," said Jandra. "I'm his apprentice, not his slave."
"There are some chains you don't even know you're wearing."
Before Jandra could respond, a booming voice from below shouted out a name.
"Bitterwood!"
The word echoed through the stone walls. Pet could make out a large, armored sun-dragon standing on a platform, using a wooden cone to amplify his voice.
"That's Kanst," whispered Jandra. "He's Albekizan's-"
Kanst's shouts drowned her out. "We know you are defending the castle, Bitterwood! These villagers are special to you, I think. Maybe you have family among them. You've tried to save them by picking us off one by one. A good strategy, if you had the time."
Kanst motioned with his claw and an earth-dragon dragged a young boy onto the platform, his arms and legs bound, his screams nearly drowning out the words that followed.
"Time is up, Bitterwood."
The green dragon held the boy up by his blond hair, his toes just off the platform. Kanst drew his sword, slowly, ceremoniously, from the scabbard. The deliberateness of the action only added to the shock of what followed. Savagely, the sword flashed through the air in a silver arc. The body toppled sideways. The earth-dragon held the boy's head toward the castle walls.
The villagers erupted in noise, men cursing, women weeping, children crying. The dragons that surrounded them rushed in, shouting for them to be silent, enforcing their orders with blows from the blunt ends of their spears.
After order was beaten into the crowd, Kanst continued: "That boy can be the last to die today, Bitterwood. You can save the rest by coming forward now. We give you a quarter hour to show yourself. Then they die, minute by minute, one by one. The children first, as they may be your own blood. Then the women, as one of them may be your mate. Then the men, brothers, perhaps, or fathers. Should they by chance, all be strangers, so be it. Perhaps you'll have the stomach for the slaughter being carried out in your honor."
Kanst looked toward the castle walls and waited as the body of the boy was carried away and a little girl was selected from the crowd.
BITTERWOOD DIDN'T LOOK back. He couldn't. He heard the words but he wouldn't feel them, couldn't feel them unless he looked. The fight would continue on another battlefield. No matter what the cost. back. He couldn't. He heard the words but he wouldn't feel them, couldn't feel them unless he looked. The fight would continue on another battlefield. No matter what the cost.
His path carried him toward a barn where he hoped to find a good horse. All the dragons would be in the fields by the castle. Their stunt only assisted him in his escape by focusing their forces to control the crowd.
As Bitterwood reached the door, he heard a snuffling noise. Looking to his side he saw a piglet, free from the other animals, looking at him with big black eyes.
Bitterwood knew this pig.
"Damn," he sighed.
He remembered his promise to Zeeky. He remembered the promises he'd broken in the past. If he abandoned her, it would haunt him, but he was already haunted. What was one more ghost?
He sat down on a bale of hay, his body leaden. He'd never felt so tired in all his life.
"I'm sorry," he whispered to the ghosts.
"HE HAS TO!" Jandra said as she raced for the throne room. Jandra said as she raced for the throne room.
"He won't," Pet answered as he chased her.
Jandra rushed through the doors, expecting to find the scene just as she left it. But something was missing. Vendevorex was gone.
"Vendevorex!" she yelled.
"I-I am here," he answered weakly. The air glittered, revealing him. He lay near where he'd fallen but was now propped against the wall. Many of his wounds had closed but fresh blood seeped from the larger wounds that remained. "Do you have... any water? I tried... to condense some from the air. Didn't have... the s-strength."
"Pet! Where can I find water?"
"There's a fountain in the garden," he said. "Follow me."
He led her through the side door that led to the walled garden. The water sparkled in the morning light making Jandra aware of her own thirst. She could drink directly from the fountain but what of Vendevorex?
"What can we put water in?" she asked.
"Hold on. I'll find something," Pet said, going back into the throne room. Jandra knelt by the fountain and drank deeply. The water was cold and clean as freshly melted snow. The garden was filled with pink flowers, opening their buds to the rising sun, filling the air with perfume. Yellow-breasted songbirds flitted among the branches of the low trees and greeted the day with music. The beauty made her feel ill. The garden was too lovely, too peaceful in light of the horrors she'd seen.
"Here," Pet said, returning. He carried the pack she had seen him with earlier. He pulled a golden goblet from it and handed it to her. "I guess I won't be needing this after all," he said.
"Thank you," she said as she took the goblet.
Delicate engravings of butterflies covered the golden cup. It was the loveliest thing she had ever seen and it broke her. The goblet fell from her hands as tears began to stream from her cheeks. She began to tremble, her body weak with sorrow.
Pet sat beside her. He took one of her hands and squeezed it. "It's okay," he said, stroking her hair with his free hand. "It's okay."
"No," she said, shaking her head. "They're going to die. Kanst doesn't bluff. It's all my fault."
"It's not your fault."
"The dragons wouldn't be here if Vendevorex weren't here. He's only here because of me. Maybe things would have been better if the guards had just killed me the morning after Bodiel died. I've been holding on to such foolish hopes. I thought... I thought everything would be all right. I thought we could win."
"You can," Pet said. "Vendevorex will be okay. You'll both live through this."
"But it's too late for the villagers," Jandra said. "They're dying because of me."
"Hush," Pet said. "Don't torture yourself. This isn't your fault. It's Bitterwood's. He's the one who killed Bodiel. He got the dragons all worked up. If he has a heart in him, he'll turn himself in and end this."
Jandra sniffed, wiping her cheeks. "A minute ago you were the one saying he wouldn't surrender. I don't think he gives a damn about saving people. He only wants to kill dragons. He won't give himself up. We can't do a damn thing to stop Kanst. I think we've proven tonight that we're both pathetic at fighting."
"Shhh." Pet hugged her tightly for a long moment. Then he broke the embrace. "Bitterwood is going to surrender. You have my vow."
"Oh, what good is your vow?"
Pet turned Jandra's face toward him and brushed her hair away from her face. "You can't worry about that right now," he said. "Vendevorex needs you, honey. He's thirsty, and hurting, and probably more scared than you are. Be strong for him, okay?"
Jandra swallowed. "Okay."
Pet helped her to rise. He picked up the goblet from the green carpet of grass and filled it with water.
"Take this to him," he said, then he sat by the fountain and lowered his face to take his own drink.