Dragon Sleeping (The Dragon Circle Trilogy Book 1) (37 page)

She heard the People’s voices in the trees again, using her name to urge each other forward on the hunt. Why were they coming now?

Nick stepped forward, the first time he had left the shadows of the trees for the clearing. “They know we’ve lost our protection.”

“What?” Jason asked. “We can still fight.”

“With our fists?” Nick asked back. “With the few weapons we have?” He patted the hilt of his sword. “Even if those weapons are special? With Obar and Mrs. Smith gone, we’ve lost the magic that guarded us. Somehow the People know this.”

Nick was right. Mary Lou nodded her head. “The People know all sorts of things.”

Calls answered the sound of her voice. Calls from the trees, always closer than the ones before.

But, speaking of magic, where was the prince? He had always shown up before when she needed him. He had said, just before they had reached the clearing, that they were going to be together. Why was he gone for so long?

The Oomgosh stood tall, holding his single arm toward the sky. “We will fight if we must.”

“With what?” Mrs. Jackson spoke up. “I’m afraid some of us don’t know how to fight.”

“Nick’s got a sword,” Jason pointed out. “Charlie’s got his teeth. And the Oomgosh, even with one arm, is twice as strong as anybody I’ve ever seen. And the rest of us? We’ve got rocks and sticks to throw at them. The People are small. Maybe we can drive them away.”

But the People were also armed, Mary Lou thought, and could sit up in their trees and rain arrows down on them. And, as much as the People wanted her, she didn’t doubt they might resort to using a leftover poison stick or two to eliminate anyone who was good at fighting—Nick or the tree man or even her little brother.

She didn’t want anybody to die because of her. That would be even worse than being a prisoner.

“Maybe,” Joan Blake said, “we could call Mrs. Smith back here.”

“She does seem in tune with the rest of the neighbors,” Mrs. Jackson agreed. “Maybe she’ll realize we’re in trouble.”

“No one can fathom the thinking of wizards,” the Oomgosh added.

Mary Lou wasn’t sure if he was agreeing or raising an objection. “Merrilu!” The call was loud enough now to carry over the wind.

“Merrilu!”

The great black bird cawed as it swept into their midst.

“The entire tribe is in the trees!” he announced as he landed on Nick’s shoulder. Somehow the bird looked like he belonged there. “Raven has seen them! Four hundred and thirty-eight. They are spread out, but only across half the forest.” The bird waved his beak to the right.

“So we can get out of here?” Mary Lou’s mother asked. “Unfortunately,” the Oomgosh replied, “these creatures can move faster than all but Raven. The best we can do is find some more advantageous place to make our stand.”

“But,” Mrs. Blake pointed out, “perhaps by delaying our encounter with these things, we might give Mrs. Smith the chance to come back here and help us.”

“It certainly sounds better than staying here,” Mary Lou’s mother said. “Anything sounds better than staying here.”

Mary Lou turned. She had heard her name again. But this time the voice had been deep and male. She looked into the shadows of the forest and saw the faintest flash of blue. It had to be her prince.

She pulled away from her mother and walked quietly out of the clearing.

Her prince stepped from the darkness, his faint form even more insubstantial in the shade.

“I came as soon as I knew,” he said. “About the People?”

He nodded. “We can’t let them overtake the others. The People are desperate to get you back. The others would be slaughtered.”

It was every bit as bad, then, as she had feared. “But what else can we do?”

“Come away with me.” The prince’s smile peeked through the darkness. “The two of us know these woods. We can move faster than the others. Together, we can leave everything behind.”

This was the prince she had been waiting for. “All right. Can I tell the others what I have to do?”

“There’s no time. The People are approaching much too quickly. A few seconds could mean the difference between our escape and someone dying.”

Mary Lou looked back toward Jason and her mother. She hoped they’d understand. She turned to the prince. “All right. Let’s go.”

“This way,” the prince instructed, floating before her. They were not leaving an instant too soon. The calls redoubled through the trees. They sounded like the People were almost directly above them.

“Are you sure?” Mary Lou asked. If the People were that close, she didn’t know how they could get away.

“Of course I am,” the prince replied calmly. “Remember how well I know the People.”

That was true. For a time there, Mary Lou remembered, she imagined the prince and the People could read each other’s thoughts.

Her feet crunched over the dead leaves as she ran, sounding to her as loud as an air-raid siren.

“Hurry!” the prince called.

“Won’t they hear us?” she shouted back as she ran even faster.

“The People do not hear in the same way as people do,” he answered. “Besides, listen to all the noise they’re making themselves.”

Mary Lou realized that there seemed to be calls of “Merrilu!” everywhere above them, the whole tribe drowning in the ecstasy of calling her name.

“We’re almost there,” he called back encouragingly.

Almost where? She wondered. The prince must have found a hideaway safe from the trees, a house of some sort, even a cave. No wonder they had to rush before the People got too close.

The prince’s blue robe suddenly grew brighter. He was leading her into a clearing lit by the morning sun.

“We are here,” he announced.

It was only when she stopped running and tried to catch her breath that she realized the whole open space was ringed by a circle of the People, silently watching her.

“Mary Lou,” the prince said with a smile. “Welcome home.”

B
obby swatted at the dead man’s hands. A knucklebone broke free, clattering against the wall.

“You won’t get away from me that easily,” Sayre warned. His voice was rougher and deeper than Bobby remembered, like his voice box was rotting away along with the rest of him. “You’re one of those damn kids who was always running over my lawn!” The dead man coughed. A large beetle ran from the corner of his mouth. “I bet you thought you’d never have to pay.”

Nunn groaned on the floor.

“Talking back, heh?” Sayre said to both Bobby and the whole room beyond. “I don’t let people talk back to me anymore. No one controls this fellow anymore!” He brushed at the flies that circled his face. Bits of skin fell away, and maybe a piece of his ear. “You might say I have a whole new view of life!”

Bobby backed away, looking for someplace he could hide. Sayre leaned down toward Bobby and waved. “Now stand still while I break your neck.”

Sayre jerked upright when someone coughed behind him.

“The least you could do,” said a voice almost as hoarse as the dead man’s, “is to thank me for all I’ve done.”

Sayre managed to turn around, his arms flapping loosely against his torso. His head teetered precariously at the top of his neck as he swayed, but his voice was still strong with anger. “I’ve had about as much of this as I can stand!”

“I think, unfortunately, that most of us could say that.” The newcomer stepped to the doorway, leaning heavily against it, as if the act of taking that single step could use all his energy. This newcomer looked almost as bad as Sayre, his skin dead white, and his eyes sunken deep in his face. Bobby felt like he was in the middle of a zombie convention.

“So you don’t recognize me,” the newcomer said to Sayre. “Well, who would? You see … I’m responsible for giving you life.”

He muffled a cough before he added, “But that’s, of course, after I killed you in the first place.”

Bobby looked carefully at the newcomer’s face. Almost invisible on his pale flesh was a scar on either cheek. It was the Captain who had taken them from their homes.

“Soldier!” Sayre screamed, sounding even angrier than he had before. “I’ll show you how I hurt!”

“I’m afraid I already know that all too well,” the Captain replied. “It’s time to stop your threats. I also know you, Mr. Sayre, better than you might imagine.”

“Then you know I mean what I say!” Sayre shrieked as he lunged toward the other man. He took two steps, then stopped abruptly, his hands inches from the Captain’s throat.

“Most of all, Mr. Sayre,” the Captain said softly, “I know your mind.”

The Captain lifted up his own hands, so that his fingers almost touched those of Old Man Sayre. The soldier gazed straight into the walking corpse’s eyes and lifted his hands slightly.

Sayre’s hands lifted as well, as if he and the Captain were mirror images.

“Good,” the Captain said, and both his lips and the rotting lips of Sayre mouthed the words. The Captain and Sayre both lowered their hands to their sides.

“Your mind and mine are quite close now,” the Captain spoke for both of them. “But I imagine you realize that.”

The Captain, and Sayre, looked over at Bobby.

“I don’t think I can hold him like this forever.” As the Captain spoke, Bobby could already hear the strain in his voice. “It’s best that you get out of here.” The Captain nodded at the unconscious wizard on the floor. “With Nunn in his present state, I imagine you might be able to get out of this castle entirely.”

Bobby wasn’t so sure about all this. “Why should I trust you? Aren’t you working for Nunn?”

“Nunn and I have had a falling-out.” The Captain managed a grin. The scars lined up above the smile the way they used to. “My present condition should be proof enough of that. Nunn doesn’t take kindly to others going against his orders. Unfortunately, he sometimes forgets to tell others just what those orders are.” He grimaced. “I don’t want anyone else to have to go through what I have suffered.”

He started to cough again. Old Man Sayre coughed in time. “If I had any real strength,” the Captain managed after he’d caught his breath, “I’d get out of this place.”

So this was the escape Bobby had been looking for. But he didn’t want to go alone.

“My parents—” he began.

The Captain waved at the door. “Your mother is down the hall, with a couple of the other neighbors. I would get out of here now. I’m not as strong as I once was.”

His gaze snapped back to lock with that of Sayre. Both began to shake, as if sharing some collective fit. The Captain moaned, and this time Sayre made a noise as well. Bobby decided to take the Captain’s advice and get out of there. He ran past the two quivering forms.

As he hurried down the hall, he heard two voices speak in unison: “My—lawn.”

The stone corridor Bobby ran down was featureless, save for a single open doorway. He could hear voices in the room beyond. “Maybe we should go out there and see what’s happened.”

“No. Nunn hasn’t told us anything. I think we wait for his orders.”

“Maybe something’s happened to Nunn. Maybe he’s hurt—or even dead.”

A laugh. “Come on now, Harry. You’ve seen what Nunn can do.

What could hurt something like that?”

Bobby recognized the neighbors’ voices. He peeked around the corner of the doorway to see another large stone room like the one he had just left. Jackson and Dafoe stood in the center of the room, talking.

“I don’t know, Mr. Jackson,” Bobby interrupted. “But something did hurt him. He’s out cold.”

“Leo?” his mother’s voice said from the corner. She was huddled beneath a table, as if trying to hide from the light. Her head turned from side to side, but her eyes didn’t seem to focus on anything.

“No, Mom,” Bobby replied. “It’s just me.”

“Where’s Leo?” His mother clutched at her skirt, gathering the navy fabric in her fists. “I need my Leo.”

“You heard Bobby,” Dafoe said. “Maybe this Nunn isn’t as all-powerful as you suppose. Maybe we all made a mistake in staying.”

“How do we know this isn’t some sort of test?” Jackson shot back. “The minute we turn our backs on Nunn, he could kill us all as traitors!”

Bobby didn’t have time to listen to this argument. He knew what he had to do.

“Excuse me,” he said as he passed the two adults. “My mother and I have to go.”

“Leo?” his mother said weakly as he approached.

“I’m going to take you to Leo, Mom,” Bobby whispered. It was a lie, but what else could he say? “Me, you, Dad, we’ll all be back together again.”

“Together,” she repeated. She smiled at that.

“Give me your hand, Mom.” Bobby held out his own hand for her to grab. She focused on his fingers with a sharp intake of breath, as if even fixating on a set of fingers was enough to scare the wits out of her. Her own hand quivered as she reached out and took her son’s.

“Good, Mom.” Bobby gently drew her forward, out from under the table. “Now you’ve got to stand up.”

His mother stared at him like he was speaking some foreign language.

“For Dad, Mom,” Bobby urged. “We’re doing this for Leo.” His mother smiled a shy smile and shifted around so she could stand.

“I think you should stop there,” Mr. Jackson said behind them. Bobby looked around. “What do you mean?”

Jackson sneered down at him. “If you think I’m letting the two of you walk out of here, you’re crazy.”

“Oh, come on, Carl!” Dafoe objected. “What harm can it do?”

“Nunn wouldn’t like it,” Jackson replied. “Or did you forget we were working for Nunn now?”

There was a shuffling sound outside the door. “Someone’s coming,” Dafoe said softly.

Bobby turned back to his mother. “Mom, you really should get up.”

Jackson walked quickly across the room toward him. “Leave her there!”

“I will not!” Bobby was getting angry. What right did this guy have to tell him what to do? “My mom and I are getting out of here.”

“Oh, yeah?” Jackson stopped directly behind Bobby. He held up his arm as if he was about to clip Bobby’s head with the back of his hand. “You take one step toward that door, I swear I’ll kill you.”

“Ah, now,” Nunn’s voice said from the door, “that’s where your predecessor got himself into trouble.”