Dragon Sleeping (The Dragon Circle Trilogy Book 1) (40 page)

“Well,” Mills replied, a bit overwhelmed by the magnitude of what he might have done, “I did want to fight him back there.”

“And that’s what you’re doing!” the cloud agreed eagerly. “But you’re going to be able to fight him in a way that neither he nor you have ever experienced before.

“By entering Nunn without his proper preparation, you have stirred up the powers that reside in his brain: all those things that he has consumed that stay, ghostlike, in his memory. Suddenly, Leo Furlong can think for himself. That light-creature, Zachs, finds it has the will to move. And an old wizard awakes, and thinks of retribution.”

The cloud chuckled. “I think, if we handle this properly, we shall not only succeed, we shall also be properly entertained.” The image of the thunderhead faded again, and Mills could see the first outline of the room beyond. “But maybe we should get back to our battle. I think we might be able to adjust the outcome here very easily. Don’t you?”

Mills decided for the moment that he was content to shut up and watch.

Oh, dear, Obar thought, this wasn’t going at all well. Mrs. Smith’s lack of experience with her eye was already showing. And this damned corpse seemed to shake off minor spells. Obar was afraid that if he occupied himself with a major spell to rid them of this pest, Nunn would counter with a major spell of his own when Obar was unprotected.

Then Mrs. Smith called out the corpse’s name. The Sayre-thing lurched around and started for her. Obar’s attacks didn’t seem to have any more effect on the corpse’s rear. And what about Nunn?

That’s when his brother wizard screamed, without Obar doing a thing. Somehow Mrs. Smith had gotten through to him. She was such a wonderful raw talent. How could Obar have ever doubted her?

Now was the time for Obar to strike.

“Bobby!” Mrs. Smith called as she lifted her jewel. “Get Bobby!”

Oh. Of course. That was the whole reason they’d come here, wasn’t it? Bobby first, Nunn later.

“Come on, Bobby,” Obar called. “We have to get out of here.” The boy looked up from where he knelt by Mrs. Furlong. “Can we take my mother, too?”

“I don’t see any problem with that.” Obar looked at the two other men who had backed into the corner as the conflict began. “We can take you fellows, too, if you want to go.”

The more nervous of the two looked at the other, a large man who appeared to be angry at everything that was happening.

“What do you think, Carl?” the nervous one asked.

“I’ve made my decision, Harold,” the angry Carl replied. “Nunn is going to win. Look at how messed-up these two others are, and they had surprise on their side.”

“But something’s wrong with Nunn!” Harold’s shaking finger pointed at the wizard.

“So we need to prove ourselves,” Carl said. He stepped toward the center of the room, waving for Harold to follow. “Come on. I think we can take them.”

Oh, dear, Obar thought. This was getting a bit out of hand. “Mrs. Smith!” Obar called. “If you could gather the others around you, I’ll hold off Nunn.” And maybe, Obar thought, he could disable his brother for a while as well.

“Hyram!” Mrs. Smith answered severely. “Stop there, or I’ll have to hurt you!” She held the dragon’s eye high above her head. It pulsed with power.

“Green,” Sayre muttered in reply. “All green is mine.”

“Now!” Carl called as he charged toward Obar. Harold followed, somewhat more hesitantly.

“Please,” Obar remarked offhandedly. He caused a ring of green fire to seal him off from this foolish attack.

Nunn stood suddenly. From the agony in his face, he was still struggling with whatever spell had attacked him. “I—will—not— be— overcome!”

Oh, drat. This was getting worse.

Sayre lurched toward the stone in Mrs. Smith’s hand.

Carl screamed as he hit the wall of magic fire. He staggered back, beating at his chest as green flames enveloped his clothes. He started to scream and ran backward three steps, right into Sayre.

Sayre fell forward, right into Mrs. Smith.

She cried out in surprise as the dragon’s eye was knocked from her hand.

“Green!” Sayre yelled in triumph as his rotting hand reached up to catch the stone.

“Not that!” Mrs. Smith exclaimed as she pushed herself forward toward the stone. But Sayre was taller, his reach greater.

Mrs. Smith’s hand knocked hard against the other’s rotting wrists as he touched the stone.

Sayre grunted. The stone flew across the room. Straight to Nunn.

He caught it with his right hand, closing his fingers so that the new jewel brushed against the dragon’s eye buried in his palm.

Nunn started to laugh.

There was only one thing left to do.

“Bobby!” Obar shouted. “Here, now!” He threw his spell over the boy and his mother, whipping it around to cover Mrs. Smith before Sayre could renew his attack.

“Go!” Obar screamed, pulling them all from the room.

The spell worked. They were back in the clearing where they had started, although the other neighbors seemed to have left.

“Oh, dear,” Mrs. Smith said softly. She stared at the hand that used to hold the dragon’s eye.

It was only now that she probably really realized what had happened. They had lost a dragon’s eye, their only chance to fight Nunn on an equal footing.

But they were safe, for the moment. Safe to think of anything they might do to survive, before Nunn learned to control all three of the eyes at the same time.

Once that happened, Obar was quite sure everyone now in this clearing was dead.

M
ary Lou hoped Raven would hurry. There was no other way she would escape the Ceremony.

“A little adventure,” the prince said by her side. “It must feel good to know that so many people care about you.”

Mary Lou had had just about enough of her prince. “Why don’t you just shut up!” she snapped at the apparition. “If I’m going to die or something, the least you can do is let me have a few minutes’ peace.”

“Oh,” the prince replied. He actually was silent for a moment as the People kept on with their task of carrying her higher and higher, sometimes toting her, at others passing her from hand to hand, but always holding her with so many of their tiny hands that she could never move her arms or legs. They kept on calling her name, too, she supposed. The chanting had gone on for so long that she was beginning not to hear it.

“You do know that I meant it,” the prince added a minute later. “What?” Mary Lou demanded. Actually, she thought, maybe some talk would take her mind off what was going to happen next.

The prince looked down at her with his transparent eyes. “About a lot of people caring for you. I have the feeling that might be something you’re not used to.”

Mary Lou felt she was going to blush. She decided it was better to be angry. “Sure, you care about me! The People care about me! Otherwise, you can’t go through with your stupid Ceremony! It doesn’t matter that the Ceremony is going to kill me!”

“I never said the Ceremony would kill you,” the prince replied softly. “I quite actually don’t know what it will do. I only know that it’s necessary.”

“Necessary?” Mary Lou demanded. “Necessary for what?”

“For the next stage to begin, for us to gain some power over the dragon. For me to regain some bit of the real me that was lost so long ago.” The prince shrugged. “At least that’s what I think it’s all about. I didn’t feign my forgetfulness, you know. And there are still huge parts of my past that I still know nothing about.”

“What
do
you know?” Mary Lou found herself interested despite her anger.

The prince gave her the intense look that would have melted her heart only a few hours ago. “That I was one of three wizards that came here, except we didn’t start out as wizards.” He paused, looking down at his insubstantial robes. “Actually, there were five of us at first. A barber, two shopkeepers, a banker, and myself. I was a customer, just passing through San Francisco on my way to Alaska and gold. I found gold of another kind.” He smiled. “Once we got here and found what little the dragon left, we also found that three of us had certain powers. It was a shame that the remaining two had to die along the way.

“And an old wizard died, too, one that held three dragon’s eyes. Once we’d put him out of the way, of course, that meant there was one eye apiece for the three of us. Or there was, until the other two killed me. Or at least thought they did.”

“So they murdered you for the eye?”

The prince smiled down at her. “Oh, I would have killed them, too. The stones meant that much to all of us at first. And we could only find the three. The dragon was keeping the others hidden, keeping the power of the final four for itself.” He hesitated for a second, his ghost face graced with the slightest of frowns. “For some reason, that isn’t true anymore. A fourth eye has been found, and I’m beginning to feel the others.”

Mary Lou had never seen the prince look troubled like this before. “Feel?” she prompted.

He stared off into the trees, his face still solemn. “Once you have had a dragon’s eye, you are very close to them, forever. You miss them, you want them, and you’d do anything—” His voice drifted off into thought. He suddenly looked back at Mary Lou. For the very first time, he seemed a bit self-conscious. “Sensing these eyes—perhaps it has something to do with the dragon’s reappearance. But I think the remaining eyes will be ready for the taking, if you’re fast and clever enough.”

Mary Lou didn’t care much for the eyes. Instead, she asked, “If they murdered you, why aren’t you dead?”

The prince laughed at that. “Well, I don’t know if I’m precisely alive. And I have the most trouble remembering those days just before I was attacked. But I imagine I guessed that Nunn and Obar—they are brothers, you know, and in those days their family feeling ran rather deeper than it does now—I guessed the brothers would kill me for my gem. And I somehow concocted a spell that would help me survive.”

Mary Lou still didn’t understand. “But what does all this have to do with the Ceremony?”

“Forgive me, but it’s all part of the spell. To complete it, we must have this Ceremony.”

“Your spell? But the Anno seem to think the Ceremony will give them something they always wanted.”

“That’s what the Anno do believe,” the prince agreed. “The People are a single-minded species. Once they get something in their head, there’s no getting rid of it.”

“And you used that,” Mary Lou said. “You put that something in their heads, that Ceremony!”

The prince spread his translucent hands. “Guilty. I had to find something that would bring me back. What better than someone brought by the dragon?”

“So you’re the one I should hate,” Mary Lou said softly, as if she might keep herself from that emotion.

“Hate me or not,” the prince said, “I think all of this was destined to be.” He laughed softly at a private joke. “All the time, I think it was the People who used to work for me.”

Mary Lou looked up and saw the never-ending leaves give way to a vast expanse of blue sky. They had almost reached the People’s village at the top of the trees.

This was it, then. The Ceremony would begin; the prince would get whatever he needed. And what of Mary Lou?

She was surprised to find she wasn’t that afraid. In fact, she felt very little at all. She simply knew that, a few moments from now, she might not fear, or hate, or hope ever again.

T
he Oomgosh had no doubt as to what would happen eventually, for he could talk to every tree.

The land, the trees, and the sky—these always prevailed. And the Oomgosh was a part of this order. Wizards came and went. Even the dragon spent most of his time in hiding. But nature was forever.

Unfortunately, the Oomgosh was not as certain about what would happen now. The world was a much faster place in the presence of these newcomers.

He had not spent much time lately around humans. He had forgotten how much he enjoyed their company. Not that Raven wasn’t a joy. He and the Oomgosh were fated to be companions, after all. But even one as ancient and patient as the Oomgosh found Raven’s boasting irritating on occasion, despite the fact that boasting was a fine part of the great black bird’s nature. Humans, however, were unpredictable, and this newest batch, courtesy of the dragon, seemed to be a particularly contentious and talented lot, especially the children. The Oomgosh always cared about growing things.

And the Oomgosh hated the taking of life without good cause. When he thought of what might happen to Mary Lou, he grew angry. And when the Oomgosh grew truly angry, he could move the trees, the earth, and the sky.

He listened to the cries in the trees overhead. At first, the Oomgosh thought, the way the Anno chanted on and on, they would lead them straight to Mary Lou.

But the Anno, although they sometimes appeared to have a single mind, were not single-minded. Some of their number split off from their main force above, calling Mary Lou’s name to the right and left of them, spreading out so that they might be taking Mary Lou to any part of the forest.

But the trees told the Oomgosh the Anno’s secrets. Their trunks groaned under the weight of the hundreds of little ones as the Anno carried Mary Lou higher. The branches whispered as they shook with the Anno’s passing, “This way! This way!” And, as surely as water flowed from root to trunk to limb to leaf, the sighs and groans and whispers of the trees were carried the other way, down to the great mass of roots that covered the whole island. And the Oomgosh could hear these roots, talking far underground.

“This way,” the Oomgosh instructed. Jason waved for the others to follow. Of all the humans, the Oomgosh liked Jason best of all. The boy was full of an energy the likes of which the Oomgosh could barely remember, and that in another lifetime. And Jason and he got on well with each other from the first, like old friends from the moment they met. Although they had lived in different worlds, the Oomgosh and Jason were a match.

The Oomgosh looked to the Volunteers, hard humans who knew the way of the wood. “They are taking Mary Lou to their city. I imagine the Ceremony will begin there.”