AutumnQuest (14 page)

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Authors: Terie Garrison

Tags: #YA, #young, #adult, #young adult, #fiction, #teen

BOOK: AutumnQuest
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It turned out to be much easier than I’d expected. All we had to do was ask. We made our way through the city, asking directions again whenever we were unsure of where to go next.

We heard the arena before we saw it. The roar of a huge crowd was periodically pierced by a high-pitched screech or a loud rumble, almost like thunder. We picked up our pace, curious at what we would find.

Finally, we rounded a corner and came to an abrupt standstill at the sight in front of us. A circular arena built of greenish stone rose high into the air. All around its base sprawled a marketplace far bigger than I ever could have imagined. Brightly colored canvases covered the stalls, and people moved in all directions: small errand boys darted between customers, young women strolled in small groups pretending to be oblivious of the languorous young men watching them, servants and housewives chose groceries for evening meals, and men bargained over the prices of any and everything. The assault on my ears—not to mention the effect of the vibrations on my spirit—almost overwhelmed me.

Traz seemed eager to dive into the flow, but I held him back. I needed to calm down, center myself first.

When I felt ready, we plunged into the crowd as if it were a current of water. The jostling of the people made me nervous, but I swallowed down the panic, forcing myself to hold on to my calm center. I let Traz lead the way and followed in his small wake.

The smells from the food stalls were hard to ignore. Traz did most of our cooking and was good at it, but on our journeying, we just didn’t have the herbs and spices that seasoned the food as well as the air here. The tang of gympseed at a baker’s stall brought me to an abrupt halt. I pushed through the press of people until I stood right in front of row upon row of freshly baked bread loaves, rolls, and pastries.

“What’ll you have?” The voice sounded young and had the nasal twang of those who lived along the western coast. “You! Dirty girl! You gonna buy something? If not, get on out of the way!” I looked up to see the journeyman scowling at me.

I started to reach for my pouch, then remembered how few coins were actually in it. I shook my head and turned away. He’d called me “dirty girl.” In this crowd of filthy, smelly people, he thought I was dirty. My face burned in embarrassment.

It was then I realized I’d lost Traz.

It is a curious thing, but in a thousand years, the free dragons of Hedra have never tried to rescue those subjugated in Alloway.

And yet, to people who understand dragonkind, it is not, perhaps, so surprising. Those who are wise and learned debate whether the primary cause is the magic spells woven strong and enduring, or whether it is simply the disinterested nature of the dragons themselves.

True, the dragons from neighbouring lands attempted to rescue the Alloway dragons in those first days, but the powerful spells wrought by the victorious magicians prevented them. It was as if an invisible barrier rose from the borders and shores of Alloway to the sky far overhead.

Soon, though, the dragons lost interest. It is their way not to meddle in the affairs of men. Dragons do not care about relationships and seldom cultivate them with humans.

And, too, perhaps the remaining dragons were pleased that Alloway’s red dragons had disappeared and did not wish to do anything that might call them back.

~from
The Book of Lore

I looked in both directions but didn’t see Traz anywhere. How stupid of me to get separated from him. I’d never find him in all these thousands of people. Should I stay here and let him find me? Or keep moving in the direction we’d been going?

Just then an animal’s trumpeting quieted the crowd, and it was followed by the roar of the crowd in the arena.

“Chalk up another for them dragons,” said a man just ahead of me. I shuddered as his meaning sank in.

The man’s companion chuckled. “Ain’t a prisoner won in, oh, weeks it’s been.”

“Don’t know a prisoner ever does,” said the first.

“I think that’s just how they kill off an old dragon. Can’t exactly retire the things to the country like they do with racehorses, eh?” Both of them laughed.

Nearby, I spotted a place where some benches were set out of the main pathway. That would be a good place to wait for Traz. I’d be out of the way but could see everyone passing. Just as I got there, a woman who’d been nursing a baby stood up to leave. I took her spot.

It felt good to be out of the stream of people. I sighed, apparently louder than I meant to, for the woman sitting on my right turned to look at me. Her lip almost curled and she slid along the bench, moving farther away from me.

I wanted to slink away and hide. Well, I couldn’t be any dirtier or smellier than a lot of the other people in the market, so I just stayed where I was. If the snooty woman didn’t like it, she could leave.

Before long, she did, and two well-dressed girls about my age took her place. It didn’t surprise me to find that they were talking and giggling about a boy.

“. . . eyes are so yummy. All I wanted was for him to look my way, but he never did.”

“As if he’d even notice you in such a crowd. It’s that long, gorgeous hair that I love. I just want to run my fingers through it.”

I covered my mouth with my hand as I smiled. They reminded me of Loreen talking about Breyard. I thought with longing of my old life of lessons, friends, and fun—that life of simplicity and carefree days.

“. . . think he’ll be executed?” I wondered what I’d missed as I reminisced. Who might be executed?

Both girls shivered. “Everyone says he’ll be found guilty, but maybe he’ll kill the dragon instead.”

The first girl clutched the other’s hand. “Do you think so? Really, truly?”

“C’mon,” the second girl said, jumping to her feet. “Let’s go see what news we can find.”

I waited and waited for Traz to appear, anxiously watching the passing crowds. It seemed as if hours must have gone by when I found myself awaking from a doze to a boy’s shouting voice.

“The Assembly passes a new stall tax, rates to rise in the new year—The King’s procession route is altered—Another body is recovered from the mine collapse.”

A man rushed up to the boy and pressed a coin into his hand. The boy spoke quickly, as if he were reciting. “To replace revenue lost due to the reduction in imports from Ultria, the Assembly doubled the tax on market stalls today. The new rate, to go into effect on the first day of the new year, applies to all market stalls throughout Penwick.” He must have been a newsboy, repeating news for the payment of a small fee. I’d heard of such things, but never actually seen it before.

When he finished the story about the tax increase, the man, whose sour expression suggested that he must have been a stall keeper, stomped away. The boy started calling out the stories again. I listened in amusement until he said, “Academy student found guilty of dragon egg theft, sentenced to the dragon pit on Emancipation Day.”

Instantly, my whole body turned to ice. That could mean only one person—Breyard. I drew a shuddering breath. And Emancipation Day was only one week away! What was I going to do?

Xyla. I had to get back to her. She could help me clear my mind, devise a plan.

I stood up. Forget Traz. He’d probably find his way back easier than I would, anyway. He had a better head for directions than I did.

I left. For some reason I didn’t understand, getting out seemed to take much less time than getting in had. Before I was out of hearing range, I heard another dragon scream followed by the roar of the crowd. Another poor fellow losing to a dragon, I thought, then shook my head to get the inevitable image out of it.

Finally I left the arena behind. While I was still near the top of the hill, I could see the River Mull far below. It flowed out of the north, meandered along the west side of the hill on which Penwick had been built, and then southwest to the sea many miles away. It must be a mile wide here, I thought, watching ships that looked huge even from this distance moving in both directions. I shuddered at the thought of that much water, and made myself keep moving.

I kept heading east, walking fast and not paying attention to my surroundings. Every once in awhile, I heard another newsboy shouting out today’s stories. Then the spacious streets narrowed, and I was once again passing through the gritty part of town. I ignored everything around me and kept moving. Once beyond the city proper, I easily spotted the wood. I made for it, eventually finding the road that Traz and I had used.

I looked ahead and behind, hoping to see him, but no one was walking away from the city, only towards it.

When I got to the wood, I took a last look around, and still seeing no sign of Traz, ducked under cover.

“Xyla?” Nothing. I found the place where I thought we’d left her. Yes, there were the remains of the campfire. “Xyla?” I inquired again. Still no answer. She must have been hunting.

I gathered wood, and as darkness began to fall, lit the fire. I randomly pulled two candles from the meditation kit. Bright yellow for kindness and white for diligence. As I put them in the holders, I realized it was the first time in what seemed like ages that I’d meditated twice in the same day. By the time I finished, there was still no Xyla and no Traz. I felt the first twinges of worry. Where could they be? My appetite had vanished, so I just had tea and a few pieces of dried fruit for supper. I wrapped up against the chill of the night and, with nothing to distract me, stared into the fire.

The flames turned black and shot red sparks high into the air. My mind was assaulted by a jumble of chaotic images out of which I could make no sense. Blazing torches. Running men. Disorientation. A struggle against invisible bonds. Dark walls and blackness overhead. Heart-rending desperation. Then, finally, blessedly, nothing. Nothing at all. The sleep of the dead.

When I awoke, the sun was just rising. The fire had long burned itself out, and I was stiff with the cold. I sat up, rubbed my eyes, and looked around. Still no trace of Traz or Xyla.

What could possibly have happened to them? I felt sure that Xyla would have been able to find me anywhere in the wood or even beyond it. After all, she’d found me in the other forest when she was only three days old. My stomach felt as if it were tied into a gigantic knot, but common sense demanded that I eat. I started a fire and warmed my hands before I went to get water from the stream. The nights were definitely getting colder. It had been unseasonably warm, but I knew it couldn’t last much longer. Any day now, the cold weather heralding the coming Winter would arrive.

I filled the saucepan with water, then returned to the fire. Tea would warm me up. As I waited for the water to boil, I tried to reach out with my inner senses to find any resonance of Xyla. Nothing. Well, not nothing. Birds and small animals foraged for their breakfasts. A fox at the stream sniffed my scent before taking a long drink. A wild cat stalked a lizard, which managed to scuttle away when the cat pounced. This was maejic.

“They came and took her away.” The voice inside my head startled me. I looked up to find a pheasant watching me closely.

“Huh? Who? What?” I asked, shaking my head, confused.

The pheasant stepped closer. “The dragon.”

I resisted the urge to frighten it away. It was one thing to speak with Xyla. She had saved my life, so it hadn’t seemed so wrong to ignore what Papa had said about speaking to animals. But this bird was an entirely different matter. And yet, wasn’t this need as great as the other? Fighting against everything Papa had told me, I made another small compromise. “Do you mean Xyla?” I asked.

“The dragon Xyla. She waited here. Rested. Slept. A boy led the men. They found her unwary. Shot her. The dragon Xyla.”

“Traz? Was the boy Traz?” My stomach sank. It couldn’t be. He wouldn’t betray me—betray Xyla—like that. Would he?

“Do not know. Do not know this Traz. Took her.”

“They shot her and took her? Did they kill her?”

“Not dead. She followed.”

“No! That can’t be true! She wouldn’t leave me here alone!” I rose to my feet in agitation. The pheasant flapped its wings and scurried away from me, but it didn’t go far. I strode around the fire, trying to understand, but nothing made sense.

Then it struck me like a fist to my stomach. Traz must have been working for the Royal Guard all along! That would explain why they were always so near but never actually caught us.

And now they’d be after me! I had to get away from this place before they came back.

The forgotten water boiled merrily in the saucepan. I dumped it out and kicked dirt onto the fire. I shoved my things into my pack and prepared to move on. But where to? Surely they’d search the forest, so I couldn’t simply move to another likely spot. I thought with distaste of Penwick. Like it or not, the most obvious place to hide would be in the city itself, where a lone girl wouldn’t stand out in a crowd.

I looked around for the pheasant, which was watching me from behind a tree. I tried to make my mental tone soothing. “If the dragon Xyla returns, tell her I will come here every day, if I can.”

The pheasant blinked, then jumped up and flew away. I could only hope it would convey my message to Xyla when she came back. If she came back.

So what to do now? How to get back to the city without being discovered? I told myself to think like Traz, then shook my head in disgust. That mangy little creep! Well, if the Royal Guard rewarded him the way they had everyone else who’d been in contact with the dragon, he’d get what he deserved.

But vengeful thoughts weren’t going to get me safely back into the city. All right, I’d made it back to the wood yesterday with no problem. Not knowing if I was being watched, I hadn’t been especially careful, nor had I tried to stay hidden. And no one had nabbed me in the night. Maybe they weren’t watching for me at all. Maybe I could just walk out of here. But I didn’t want to risk everything on a maybe. Or three.

I decided that I would walk in the opposite direction until I came out of the wood on the other side, then try to work my way through the countryside until I found a way to enter the city from a different direction.

And so I did. I walked through the wood, and walked and walked. Around midday, I came across some bushes that had late berries, which I picked and ate for lunch. Then I walked more.

I began to wonder whether I was going in circles. No, I felt sure I was holding a steady easterly line. A little later, I came to a small clearing where I confirmed it by checking the position of the sun.

I finally reached the end of the wood shortly before dark. In a cozy spot between three large boulders, I set up camp, then took out my meditation kit. My fingers hovered over the candles. On a whim, I closed my eyes and selected two at random. Lavender for clarity and forest green for strength. Interesting combination.

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