“Hold out your hands,” Dorgan orders me. I start to ask why but decide to stay quiet. I bite my lower lip, plans of possible escape tumbling through my mind. I hesitantly take my hands away from Thann’s waist – the only comfort I have, and hold them straight out toward Dorgan…flash backs of the sword by his side and how quickly he can draw it pummeling through my brain.
My mind shifts, then, like finding yourself in the wrong room looking for an item you can’t remember. This could have been me, I think. I could have been made into a Destroyer. Or the elite guard of Siv Gareth’s Alliance. I shudder at the thought as Dorgan crudely ties my wrists together, so tightly that I can barely move my hands.
The thick cord cuts into my wrists, and if I move my fingers it somehow digs in deeper. I try to remain still, to keep from moving at all, the crippling pain a crude prison guard. He does the same to Thann, who offers no resistance. Dorgan then jauntily strides away and catapults himself onto the other Lav.
Lanton wastes no time. He jumps onto the Lav behind me and wraps his thick arms around my waist. I can feel his body behind mine, each of his movements a reminder of where I am and where I am going as the odor of dirty sweat, spices, and smoke fill my nostrils.
My mind is a whirl of thoughts as both giant Lavs take off into the starless night sky, at first so slowly I have no idea that we are even off the ground. And then, the flapping of their wings jolts me, both physically and mentally. As the black, empty sky engulfs us, part of me is relieved that we are still alive. But I wonder if it is just a momentary reprieve. I can’t help but think that Siv Gareth has something terrible planned for us…more painful and dramatic than a simple beheading. But Thann, I wonder again. Why would he want Thann?
We fly for about an hour through the solid black sky. I am disoriented, not sure which direction we are going, but I think it is west. Toward Mount Gareth. There are no words spoken, but I feel Thann begin to stir in front of me. Is he really waking up? Or is it just a subtle movement? Then he leans back into me, ever so slightly, as if to tell me he is indeed awake. I nudge him back. I know that Thann has Power, but I also know that it is nothing compared to the Destroyers’ Power. Bello’s words haunt me. “…if you don’t harness your Power soon…” They play over and over in my brain, like a musician singing the same song again and again.
Why couldn’t I have tried harder to harness my Power? I have the Mark…it shouldn’t be that difficult. Stubborn. That is what I was. The dead Destroyer’s words echo in my ears as well. “…stupid circus tricks…” A sudden realization so strong it feels like I might collapse washes over me. I know, without a doubt, that we are powerless against these men, and Thann must know it as well.
Eventually the Lavs start descending, and a giant, shadowy mountain materializes in the distance. Could it really be Mount Gareth? So close to my home? Maybe Entho will save me again…
I shake my head. Entho thinks I am on my way to Harcourt. Or there already. Without fanfare, the dragons land in a clearing. The Lav we are on hits the ground with a gentle thud, its feet spreading out beneath it like a huge bird’s. I struggle to stay astride as it skids to a stop, clamping my legs around the huge dragon to keep my balance. Lanton reaches forward, wraps his arms protectively around both Thann and me – his precious cargo. “We are stopping here for the night,” Lanton tells us, his words whipping against the wind.
From the ground, all I can see are trees and the slightest hint of a mountain against the backdrop of the dark sky. The moon casts an eerie shadow against it, though, swirling in odd shades of purple and pink.
Lanton pulls me off the Lav first, and my legs are rubbery as I try to stand, but I pull my head up defiantly. He laughs at me. “You shouldn’t be so saucy. If you only knew what’s in store for you…” He stops, shaking his head, as if he has a conscience. Then, almost tenderly, he pulls Thann down, settling him beside me. We stand before him, as if he were a judge prosecuting criminals.
“Don’t try anything stupid. Lord Gareth will be just as happy with a head as a live body.” He grabs us both and shoves us toward a huge tree, an almost identical twin to the one that we had the dragons set on fire.
Lanton ties us together on either side of the tree. The ropes continue to bite into my wrists, as if a wolf is clamping down on them with its powerful jaws and won’t let go. To top it off, my left hand feels like it is nothing more than mush. I try to shake my hands, to let the blood flow, but every time I do, the rope digs in deeper. I decide to stay as still as possible.
Dorgan has landed and dismounted by now, and he is starting a fire, rubbing shreds of kindling together. They light quickly, almost too fast…of course he would use his Power to start a flame. He turns to Lanton. “I am starved, my good man,” he says as flames sprout like tiny red and gold flowers. He reaches into his pack and pulls out something, apparently a hunk of meat. He neatly places a stick through it and holds it high over the flames. It begins to sizzle, and the smell wafts over to me. My stomach rumbles.
“Are you going to feed those kids?” Lanton asks.
He glances over at us, tied to the tree like dogs. “Naw, they look like they are well fed. They can miss a meal or two.”
“I suppose.” Lanton lets out a sigh, as if making these decisions is painful. They eat quietly, passing the stick of meat back and forth. Each man takes a bite, drinks from a bag and then passes it to the other man. They don’t speak to each other but just stare straight ahead, as if the fire were a play and they were entranced by the plot. My mouth is parched, and I lick my dry, cracked lips as my stomach growls.
After the men eat, they pull blankets out of their bags and roll them out. “You take first watch,” Lanton tells the other man. “I will take second.”
“Sure,” Dorgan answers, but he yawns as he settles onto the blanket. I am facing him from the tree, my hands hidden from his view. That is when I begin to rub the ropes on my wrists against the tree. Maybe I will have enough time to unravel the rope. I keep my movements slow, deliberate, careful. But with each movement, the cord cuts deeper into my skin.
I try not to scream out in pain, as I struggle to continue moving my roped wrists against the tree. I feel blood erupting from the cuts that have emerged on them. Cuts I know are there but can’t be seen. But I don’t care…it is the only solution I can think of. My mind wanders to stories I have heard about animals caught in traps…how they have actually chewed off a limb to release themselves. Could I do that? Could I really keep this up until my hands fall off? Pretty soon, I feel Thann moving his wrists against the tree – doing the same thing that I am. For some reason, it comforts me.
Lanton falls asleep quickly, his snores resonating through the woods. Thann and I continue to rub at the ropes. Back and forth. Back and forth. We saw at the tree with our bloody wrists, monotony setting in like riding a dragon in a stupor. At some point my eyes become heavy, my chin falling onto my chest. The reprieve from pain is enticing, luring…
But I think of the Destroyers. Of Siv Gareth. Of Entho and Gunter and Echo and Koree. Of Thann, who is still rubbing the ropes of his wrists back and forth against the rough tree bark. I snap my head back up. Swipe the rope against the tree again. Over and over. Back and forth, the feel of blood leaking down my wrists and onto my fingertips. Mixing with Thann’s. This continues for hours, and at some point I hear the rhythm of not one person snoring but two. Could this be the break we need?
“Thann,” I whisper as softly as I can.
“Shhh…” is his response. I curl my lips up, just a little. The Golden Boy is back.
I continue to saw my burning wrists against the tree, my hands joining in now and screaming their own kind of pain…a throbbing like I have never felt before. Frustrated, I can’t tell if I am making any progress.
I rub repeatedly until my wrists become numb, and I don’t feel anything except blood spilling out from them. Over and over again I stroke them against the rough bark. Back and forth, back and forth I saw at the tree…a lullaby of its own ki
nd that sings to me, calling to me like my mother from her grave.
I lose track of time and the repetitive movement, exhaustion, and the black night combine into a fuzzy cloud that wraps around me, lulling me into a form of sleep or maybe just darkness.
And I become still…so very still.
Chapter 27