Bitterwood. Part 24

She went in search of Kanst's tent. That task proved simple enough-his was the largest and surrounded by the most guards. Unfortunately, some of the guards held ox-dogs on chain leashes. Invisibility wouldn't fool an ox-dog. Still, the guards and dogs looked as worn out and ready for sleep as the villagers were. Indeed, one of the dogs was already snoring. She held her breath and tiptoed between them.

She moved toward the tent flap. As she reached for it, the flap took on a life of its own, pushing outward. She jumped back as Kanst emerged from the tent. Jandra scrambled to move out of his way. Invisible or not, it wasn't difficult to be discovered if a creature with a forty-foot wingspan brushed up against you. Kanst's whiplike tail swung toward her and she skipped over it like a rope.

"Make sure no one gets in," Kanst said to the guards. "I go to consult Zanzeroth."

Kanst lumbered off into the night. Once the general was safely out of earshot, one of the guards muttered to another, "Going to consult that keg of goom in the hunter's tent is more like it."

Jandra slid between the gap in the tent flaps.

In the dim light she could barely see Pet lying p.r.o.ne on Kanst's huge battle chest. Manacles held his arms and legs to the four corners of the lid, and a steel collar was fastened around his neck.

He lay still as death. Her heart sank.

But why would they bother to chain a dead man?

She moved closer until she could hear his breathing. She had expected to find him bruised and bloodied but he looked unharmed. Kanst apparently wanted his prize delivered in good health.

Becoming visible, she carefully placed her hand over his mouth as he slept. He stirred to wakefulness.

"It's me," she said. "Don't be scared."

"Jandra," Pet whispered as she removed her hand. "What are you doing here? And what on earth have you done to your hair?"

"I'm not here to discuss grooming. I've come to rescue you."

"Don't," Pet said. "I've made my choice."

"Pretending you're Bitterwood isn't going to solve things. You saved the hostages for the moment but Albekizan's death warrant on all humans is still in place. I need every ally I can muster. I want you free and fighting."

"I'm no warrior," Pet said. "We both know that. I'm only an actor, a pretender. I told you, if I could help people by acting, I would. Who knew I'd get my chance so soon? When they take me before Albekizan, I know he'll kill me. Perhaps my death will a.s.suage his anger. He might call off his order of genocide."

"Or maybe you'll have died in vain."

"Your words of encouragement are a great comfort to me," Pet said.

"Sorry. But you don't have to die. I'm working on a plan to stop Albekizan."

"How?"

"The first step is to rescue you. Then... ." Jandra hoped for inspiration. It didn't come. "To be honest, I'm still fleshing out the rest of the plan."

"If you're here, Vendevorex must have come to your way of thinking," Pet said. "What help can I be compared to him?"

"Ven isn't with me," Jandra said.

"Oh. He didn't pull through?"

"I'd rather not discuss it."

"But, if Vendevorex-"

"Stop," Jandra said, raising her hand. "I'm not here to discuss Vendevorex. I'm here to save you so you can help me in my fight to save mankind."

"As an army of two?" Pet said. "I think I currently have the better plan."

"When did you get so brave? I think I liked you better when you were-"

"Cowardly?" Pet interjected.

Jandra shrugged. "More protective of your self interests."

"I didn't do this for you. I told you, the villagers weren't strangers to me. I've done what I could over the years to help them. And they... Well, some of them... some of the young women... have, um, been grateful."

"What are you saying?"

"Chakthalla would never have allowed me to select a permanent mate from among the villagers but she couldn't know everything I was up to. If I had allowed Kanst to slaughter the village children he might have been killing my offspring."

Jandra's heart sank. Of course, she should have known that he'd use his privileges and talents to seduce the village girls. He'd tried to bed her after ten minutes of conversation. She was shocked to find an icy vein of jealousy running through her body. Why? She didn't have any romantic feelings for him, did she?

Pet seemed to sense her disappointment. "I'm sorry. I haven't been a saint. Maybe what I'm doing will make up a little for the self-centered way I've lived. Don't worry about me. This is just another performance, one last moment on the stage. You know I love being the center of attention."

Jandra nodded. Her eyes blurred with tears. "You do what you have to," she said, her voice wavering.

"Don't cry."

"I'm sorry," she said.

"It's okay," Pet said. "But you need to go. Kanst could return at any time."

"Good-bye," Jandra said, leaning down and placing a kiss on Pet's cheek.

"Good luck with your plan," Pet said.

PET WATCHED JANDRA step away. A swirl of tiny stars engulfed her in the darkness, and when they fell away, she had vanished. Turning his eyes toward the door, he saw at last the flap sway aside before falling back. Only then did he let tears fill his own eyes. He'd done well playing brave before her. He prayed he could repeat the performance when he finally faced Albekizan. step away. A swirl of tiny stars engulfed her in the darkness, and when they fell away, she had vanished. Turning his eyes toward the door, he saw at last the flap sway aside before falling back. Only then did he let tears fill his own eyes. He'd done well playing brave before her. He prayed he could repeat the performance when he finally faced Albekizan.

JANDRA KNELT BESIDE the sleeping form of the real Bitterwood. He'd been silent all day, marching sullenly, looking as if he'd lost all will to live. First Pet decided to become a hero, then Bitterwood lost his will to fight. Were all human males this p.r.o.ne to mood swings? Ven had his faults but at least he was predictable. the sleeping form of the real Bitterwood. He'd been silent all day, marching sullenly, looking as if he'd lost all will to live. First Pet decided to become a hero, then Bitterwood lost his will to fight. Were all human males this p.r.o.ne to mood swings? Ven had his faults but at least he was predictable.

Bitterwood lay so still she wondered for a second if he was dead. She could see the slightest movement of his chest, rising and falling beneath his threadbare clothing. His shirt was a ma.s.s of patches, st.i.tches, and stains; it looked as if it hadn't been laundered in months. Not even the humans that lived in the hovels around Albekizan's palace had worn such rags. Furthermore, Bitterwood stank; he smelled of sweat, road dust, and dried blood. Holding her breath she reached out her hand to wake the sleeping dragonslayer. When her hand was still an inch from his shoulder he said, quietly, "I'm awake."

"Good," she whispered. "We need to talk."

He continued to lay perfectly still, his eyes closed. He sighed, with breath ripened by rotting teeth, then said, "Say what you must."

"I want to know what's wrong with you. Twenty-four hours ago you were this cold-blooded dragon-slayer. Now, all day you've been shuffling around, blank-eyed, looking half dead. Are you faking this? Are you just waiting for the right moment to strike? Because if you are, I want to help."

He waited a long moment before answering, "You should get some sleep."

"In preparation for battle?" she said, hopefully. "You are are planning to fight." planning to fight."

"I'm planning on walking however far the dragons command us to walk tomorrow," said Bitterwood.

"This isn't like you," she said.

He turned toward her voice and opened his eyes. He fixed his gaze upon her.

"You cannot judge me," he said. "Long ago, I was taught that the greatest thing a man could do was to lay his life down for another. I was taught that if struck, I should turn the other cheek. If anyone harmed me, or trespa.s.sed against me, I was commanded to love and forgive them. Love and forgiveness were the greatest virtues. I believed these lies for almost a decade."

"Why are love and forgiveness lies?" she asked, aware of the irony as she said it. She certainly had no intention of forgiving Vendevorex, or ever loving him again.

"I was taught that there was a G.o.d who loved us so much, he gave his own son in sacrifice. Imagine that foolishness... sacrificing your life to redeem others."

"It sounds n.o.ble to me," she said.

"As it did to me, once. Then I learned that the man who taught me these things wasn't what I thought he was. I met him when I was young; I almost thought of him as a father. You can't know how his betrayal wounded me."

Jandra nodded. "I might have some idea."

"After his betrayal, I vowed never to be weak again. There would be no love. There would be no forgiveness. I would never turn my cheek if struck. I would match every blow with double the force. I would never show mercy."

"But you turned yourself in to save the villagers. You still have a good side."

"I still have a weak side," Bitterwood said. "I once... I once had children. Two daughters. An infant son. The night before the attack, I met Zeeky. She reminded me of my own long lost daughters. On any other night, Kanst's gambit would never have caught me. But I couldn't get Zeeky's voice out of my head. In the end that lingering trace of compa.s.sion destroyed me. I surrendered myself to the dragons to save her."

"Just as you'd been taught to do," she said.

He nodded. "Yet my sacrifice was in vain. I was rejected. The dragons would have slain me and slaughtered the villagers."

"If Pet hadn't intervened."

Bitterwood didn't respond to this. He closed his eyes and turned back on his side.

"He gave himself selflessly," he whispered. "The villagers were spared. Now I wonder, were the lies of my youth true after all? Can a man love others so much he will surrender his life to save them? Was my sacrifice rejected because I am unclean, corrupted by my hate? I'm guilty; Pet was innocent. Was his sacrifice superior because his heart was pure?"

Jandra said, "Pure isn't a word I would use to describe Pet. I spoke to Pet a minute ago. He's intent on getting himself killed. It doesn't have to end like this. I can get your bow and arrows back. You were magnificent in the castle. Think how much damage you could do with me by your side, keeping you invisible. We'd be the ultimate dragon-slaying team. You can save Pet and everyone here. You're my only hope."

Bitterwood lay motionless once more. His breathing was even, as if he had actually fallen asleep. She reached out to nudge him, and once more, he spoke before her fingers reached him.

"Life is more bearable when you live without hope," he said.

VENDEVOREX WOKE INTO darkness, his eyes straining as dim light began to slowly form shapes around him. For hours he'd pitched and turned, burning with fever. Now his fever had broken. He touched his belly, probing softly. His wounds had vanished. Once he'd set the healing in motion, his unconscious mind had been able to guide the process. darkness, his eyes straining as dim light began to slowly form shapes around him. For hours he'd pitched and turned, burning with fever. Now his fever had broken. He touched his belly, probing softly. His wounds had vanished. Once he'd set the healing in motion, his unconscious mind had been able to guide the process.

Smoke hung in the air. The smoke had a touch of pine to it. The air was moist and... he could hear water boiling. He sniffed again. Sa.s.safras? Vendevorex looked around. He wasn't in Chakthalla's castle anymore. He lay next to a small fire pit and, across from him, basking in the fire's glow, was a sun-dragon, his face hidden beneath a black velvet hood. Vendevorex had a brief flash of memory. He'd been carried from the throne room by this dragon.

"Where am I?" Vendevorex asked.

"A cavern. I've hidden here before," answered the masked dragon as he stirred the coals beneath a blackened kettle. "You lost consciousness not long after we slipped past Kanst's army. I brought you here to recover."

"How long have I been asleep?"

The masked dragon motioned toward a stalact.i.te. A tall, slender gla.s.s cylinder etched with lines sat beneath it, catching the water that dripped from its tip. "If my clock is accurate, you've been unconscious nearly thirty hours."

"Where's Jandra?"

"Don't you remember? She ran off, angry with you."

"She didn't come back?"

"I'm sorry. I couldn't wait. I know of no way she could find us now. We've eluded even the ox-dogs."

"I see," Vendevorex said. "Then I should go search for her."

"Perhaps she doesn't want to be found," the masked dragon said.

"I must find her. I had hoped to convince her to avoid Albekizan's schemes. I see that is no longer an option. But I can't let her fight single-handedly against your father."

The masked dragon grew suddenly still. Then, after too long a pause, he asked, bemused, "My father?"

"Come now, Shandrazel. You can't fool me. I've known you for too long. You have nothing to fear. I'm definitely not going to carry out your father's death order."

"No," Shandrazel agreed, grabbing his mask and pulling it from his head. "I suppose you won't."

"Nor, I suspect, would Chakthalla. She would have welcomed you to her planned rebellion. Why hide your ident.i.ty?"

"Because," Shandrazel answered, "I've no desire to be king." He lifted the kettle from the coals and poured pungent, oily liquid into clay cups. "This drink will help revitalize you. It's-"

"Sa.s.safras," Vendevorex said. "I know my medicinal herbs. It's made from the roots of a tree that grows here in the eastern mountains. It's similar in odor and taste to the European licorice root."

"European?" Shandrazel asked, offering the clay cup.

Vendevorex shrugged as he accepted the drink. The rough, unglazed ceramic warmed his talons. "I'm not trying to be obscure, but it really would take a long time to explain. Let's just say that your father may not have been the best source for you to learn geography."

"I concur," Shandrazel said, then stopped to take a drink.

Vendevorex inhaled the steam from his own cup. The vapors were sour, with a fragrant kick that made the deep recesses of his sinuses tingle.

"So," he said. "What have you been up to besides digging roots and hiding in caves?"