Chapter 26
Cannon Fire
It was the longest night of Charla's life. Lance and Meredy slept in fitful bursts, but even in exhaustion Charla could not catch a single wink of sleep. Instead she lay staring into the dark, wondering if this would be the last night she'd ever see. Was this the last time she saw the moons? The last time she breathed the ocean air? The last time she waited for the sun to rise?
She thought of Jayce, chained in the dungeons of the Well of Souls, waiting for her, and nausea rose in her throat at the thought that she might never reach him. That this was where it ended, still far away from him, still hopelessly wishing.
Tomorrow might be the day she died. And no one was coming to her rescue this time. Not Jayce. Not Lance. Not Nuala.
There was nothing she could do but wait.
It was a cold, calm night. The apes slept scattered in groups across the clearing near the cliff, and the pirate ship Bluebottle hummed gently beyond it, bobbing in the air. Charla and her friends were close to the treeline, surrounded by sleeping apes, and the dreadwing usually tethered to their cart slumbered nearby, like some enormous guard-hound. Commander Darur's tent was erected in the middle of them all, protected amongst his underlings, his guards still standing duty. Charla could see them shifting restlessly in the lantern light.
All was quiet. All was still.
Then, in the dark hours before dawn, when the gloom was thick and inky, something moved.
Footsteps in the grass. The whisper of barely audible voices, their words too quiet to hear. It was not enough to wake Lance or Meredy, but Charla, awake and alert for anything, heard it at once. She pricked her head up.
Someone or something was creeping towards the cart—but who, and why? The apes were all asleep, dawn was still hours away, and the commander's guards had not moved from their post. Charla's breath misted cold around her muzzle.
Could it be…? Had Nuala…?
There was a quiet scrambling sound, and a head popped up over the side of the cart. Charla managed not to cry out, but it was a close thing. She swallowed the yelp in her throat, dug her claws into the wooden floor, and stared at the wolfish face in front of her. The Skavenger stared back. Then he swore quietly.
"One o' them's awake!" he hissed from the corner of his mouth, and there was a soft groan somewhere below him.
Never taking his eyes off Charla, the Skavenger hauled himself up and over the edge of the cart, perching himself atop the wall. He lifted his hands slowly, as if approaching a wild animal.
" 'Ey there, l'il draggy," he whispered, in a nervous, gentle sort of voice. "Don't scream now, okay? We, uh, come in peace."
"S'not an alien, Gunbait," muttered a different voice, as another Skavenger's head appeared over the wall.
"Might as well be," Gunbait the Skavenger mumbled. He eased himself into the cart one foot at a time, still staring at Charla. "We're friends, see? Let's not wake any o' them apes, okay?"
Charla gazed at him without fear, feeling strangely numb. "Are you stealing us?"
Gunbait looked nervously at his companion, who was also pulling himself into the cart. Judging by the scuffling sound somewhere below them, a third Skavenger was waiting on the ground. The second dog shrugged.
"Tha's one way ter put it," he whispered. "So be a good draggy and come quietly, a'right? Them apes ain't gonna be happy with any of us if'n they wake up."
Charla looked between them, wondering at how oddly calm and detached she felt, as if none of this was real. Maybe she had fallen asleep and this was just a dream. But she knew one thing for sure. She didn't want to belong to the apes any longer. She nodded slowly.
The Skavengers sprang into action. Gunbait drew a sharp, hooked implement from his belt and crouched over the metal ring in the floor, where all of their chains were connected. Charla couldn't see what he was doing, but a few moments later there was a grating click and Gunbait was standing up with the end of her chain in his hand. He passed it to his companion, who gave it a gentle tug.
"C'mon," he hissed, and Charla stood up.
She wasn't sure why she was obeying, but something told her to do as they wanted. In some strange way, she was being freed. For this odd moment, in these dream-like twilight hours, the Skavengers were her allies. She crept towards the side of the cart. The chains between her legs scraped against the floor. And Meredy awoke with a strangled gasp.
All three of them froze. Meredy's head shot up and her eyes were huge and white in the darkness, darting between the pirates—and Charla knew, just knew, that she was going to scream. She opened her mouth to hiss at her, but someone beat her to it.
"Don't scream," whispered a hoarse voice. "It's okay."
Lance. He wasn't asleep.
Meredy's eyes flicked towards him, her throat bobbing, and nothing left her mouth except a tiny, stifled squeak. Charla looked back and forth between them, her heart in her throat. The dreamy, detached feeling had left her, and now her thoughts felt quick and sharp, and fear was rising in her breast. The Skavengers were stealing them. If the apes woke up and saw them…
She swallowed hard.
"Do as they say," Lance whispered. "They're not going to hurt us. It'll be okay. We're better off with Skavengers than with apes."
"Smart kid," Gunbait mumbled. He crouched over the metal ring again. " 'Old still now."
The other Skavenger tugged once more on Charla's chain, but she refused to move. She wasn't leaving until Meredy and Lance were free too. There was no way she was running the risk of leaving them behind. The Skavenger must have realised this, too, because he didn't try to force her.
"C'mon," he hissed again, and Charla heard a note of fear in his voice.
There was another click and Meredy's chain was loose. She made a kind of flinching movement, but did not try to get up; her face was pale and terrified in the gloom. Gunbait hunched his shoulders and started on the last chain, and the Skavenger outside of the cart hissed for them to hurry up. Charla shot a nervous look towards the commander's tent, but the guards were facing the other way and must not have heard. Not yet, at least…
The pirate tugged her chain again and, a second later, the final click announced that Lance was free. Charla stumbled to the edge of the cart at last, and the waiting Skavenger crouched down to her.
"Gonna pass the first'un down to ye, Jei," he whispered, and Charla tensed as his paws encircled her barrel. He lifted her as if she weighed no more than a hatchling, and she did her best not to struggle as she was passed over the wall and dropped into the waiting arms below.
The Skavenger called Jei caught her with a soft 'oof' and lowered her to the ground, then wound the end of her chain around his arm. A few moments later, the other Skavenger murmured, " 'Ere comes the next," and Meredy was passed into Jei's paws. She was limp and shell-shocked as he placed her beside Charla, and her breaths were coming in short, sharp gasps. Charla pressed against her.
" 'Elp me with this'un, Lozza," came Gunbait's quiet voice, and Charla looked up with bated breath as the two Skavengers appeared at the edge of the cart with Lance in their arms. "Easy now…"
Jei braced himself, but he still almost buckled when Lance's full weight fell upon his arms. He staggered and dropped to his knees, laying Lance in the grass as Gunbait and Lozza scrambled out of the cart to join him. Charla dug her claws into the earth and glanced around. The apes were still sleeping, and the dreadwing…
The breath froze in her throat.
The dreadwing was gone. The spot where it had been sleeping was empty, leaving nothing behind but flattened grass. Her heart began to race. The Skavengers hadn't noticed.
"Up we come," Lozza grunted, hauling Lance onto his shoulders with a huff and a grimace. Lance did not fight, not that he would have been able to, and only the shining whites of his eyes showed that he was conscious. Lozza wound the loose chain around his arm and straightened up.
Gunbait reached for Meredy's chain. Charla froze as a soft, snuffling snarl coiled like a warm breath down the back of her neck.
Jei, who was still holding onto her chain, whirled around—and a strangled cry tore from his throat, slicing through the silence. In the same moment, the dreadwing screamed, and the night exploded into chaos. Charla dived to the ground, felt the dreadwing thunder over the top of her, barely missing her with its wingclaws; Gunbait and Lozza yelled, "Run fer it!"; and apes all around them surged awake with startled, indignant shouts.
Jei stumbled back from the screeching dreadwing, yanking Charla's chain and scrabbling at his belt with his other hand. There was a flash of silver, the dreadwing jerked its head back with a shriek and a spray of blood, and then Jei was bolting into the trees, hauling Charla with him. She flailed for purchase as she was dragged across the ground, the collar cutting into her neck; shouts and screams were howling in the darkness, joining the cacophony of stampeding feet that rumbled like thunder through the ground. She found her paws and ran, trying to catch up to Jei, but the chains between her paws pulled taut and almost tripped her up. Forced into a kind of stupid, hobbling skip-jog, she staggered forward and scanned desperately for a glimpse of Lance or Meredy.
There was Lozza, weaving through the trees ahead of them, Lance bouncing on his back. Then a flash of movement caught the corner of her eye and she jerked her head around, trying and failing to call fire up from her chest. The collar burned cold at her throat.
But it was only Gunbait, one hand grasping Meredy draped like a huge piece of rope about his shoulders, the other pulling something from the pocket of his vest. He put the thing, whatever it was, to his lips—and a loud hooting sound, exactly like the cry of an owl, blasted into the air.
Once, twice, thrice he blew, his face screwed up, as if he was trying to drown out the roar of the chaos building behind them. Charla flung a look over her shoulder and saw a scattered gang of apes pursuing them into the forest. The chain tugged at her neck again and she tried to pick up the pace, but to no avail. Her breaths were coming in painful gasps; the muzzle felt like it was smothering her. Her eyes began to water.
Keep going. She had to keep going. She must not stop.
But hopelessness was crashing down upon her and it dragged at her feet like tar, slowly but surely pulling her down.
What hope did she have of escaping like this?
What chance did a small crew of pirates have against these hoards of apes and their terrifying commander?
They would catch her, they would kill her, and the only way she would return to the Well of Souls was in pieces, her scales and bones turned into weapons to kill her own kind.
She screwed her eyes shut. The owl-whistle hooted one last, long, piercing note.
And then the cannon fired.
The explosion ripped through the night with a deafening roar, and for a split second Charla thought the world was ending. She screeched, but the blast drowned it even from her own ears. Screams rose into the air behind them, trees bent and shuddered in the sudden gush of displaced wind, and the cannon fired again and again in quick succession, slamming into Charla's ears with almost physical force. A deep, thunderous cacophony rippled through the earth and sky, as if the entire cliff-face was crumbling into the sea, and somewhere ahead of her Jei uttered a kind of thrilled, wordless exclamation.
"Give it to 'em, Cap'n!" he bellowed then, his voice high-pitched and wild.
The chain yanked at Charla's neck and she couldn't catch her balance in time. She tripped over her restraints and tumbled to the ground with a painful thud, skidding in the grass until the roots of a tree caught and held her still. The collar jerked one more painful time, cutting into her throat, and then the chain went slack. Jei yelped distantly.
Charla rolled onto her stomach and stared back towards camp. The cannons were still firing, shattering the softness of night, and flashes of fire burned between the trees, sparks of violent light bursting in the darkness. Screams and howls rent the air, barely audible over the roar of cannon fire. Nausea rose in her throat. The whole world was trembling, the earth quaking beneath her.
The shadows twisted and two apes appeared through the trees, their faces taut with a kind of horrified determination. They raced towards her, pointing and jabbering to each other, and Charla tensed her shoulders, her heart leaping into her throat. She had no way to defend herself. Her legs were chained, her fangs were caged, her magic was lost; she could run, but they would catch her before she'd even taken ten steps.
Was this how she died, chained and helpless, unable to fight back?
She gritted her teeth and pulled her head in, baring her horns, protecting her throat. Then someone leapt clear over her body, yelling a warbling cry, and the apes hollered in response. Jerking her head up, Charla stared in frightened wonder as Jei fell upon them with curved sword in paw.
The first ape was too slow to react—he went down with a wet gurgle and lay twitching in the grass—but the second met the pirate dog blade for blade. They clashed with a ring of metal, a high-pitched shrill that lanced down Charla's spine; then again, and again, their faces set, moving like lightning. It was too much for her eyes to follow, but she couldn't look away—and then she blinked and the ape was crumpling sideways, dark blood streaming down his front.
Jei staggered around. He was bleeding too, a dark patch oozing across the shoulder of his once-white blouse, but before Charla could react, he was crouching beside her and gathering her into his arms. She barely even thought of struggling. Limp and numb, she let him carry her, listening to the harsh rasp of his breathing, her nostrils filled with the scent of his blood. In the near distance, the cannons were still firing.
The Skavenger was silent as he ran doggedly into the trees, and Charla twisted her head around, looking for her friends. Had the apes got to them, too? They had been ahead of her only minutes ago…
"Jei!" a voice called out of the darkness, and Charla saw the pale figure of another pirate between the trees. "Ye got the li'l one?"
"Gotcher, Loz," Jei panted, jogging over to him. "Ape got me a good'un, but she's a'right."
"Got Gunbait, too," Lozza grunted, and as he melted out of the darkness, Charla caught her breath.
Gunbait was sitting on the ground behind him, amongst the scattered bodies of a few limp apes—and looming over him, big as a dreadwing and just as ugly, was some kind of enormous bird. Its feathers were red as freshly spilled blood, its cruel, hooked beak almost as big as her whole body, the joints of its wings sharp with enormous, deadly claws. Its small dark eyes flicked towards her, the pupils dilating, as if she were prey. She trembled.
"I see the cap'n's skurvywing found ye," Jei said, stumbling over to them without fear, as if the monstrous bird was not there. Charla flinched and tried to squirm out of his arms, but his paws held tight. Slightly blunted claws dug into her scales. " 'Old still, would ye."
"Good thing it did come to us," Gunbait muttered from the ground. "They'd 'ave gutted us like fish otherwise."
He pulled his paw away from his leg, revealing shredded trousers and wet blood, then grimaced and pressed down on it again. Only then, managing to tear her eyes from the monster bird at last, did Charla spot Lance and Meredy. They were on the ground beside Gunbait, still chained and shackled, their eyes staring back towards the camp, where cannons were thundering and fire was flashing between the trees. Lance's eyes flicked towards her as Jei lowered her next to them, but none of them spoke. Charla wondered if they felt like she did, like she'd left her voice behind in the cart. Her ears were ringing.
She glanced at the giant bird and shuffled further away from it, but it seemed to have lost interest in her. As it dipped its beak towards one of the lifeless apes on the ground, she averted her eyes.
Silence fell.
It was so sudden and abrupt that it left Charla's ears ringing with the ghost of cannon fire. Stomach churning, she looked back the way they'd come and saw, this time, only darkness beyond the trees. What had happened back there?
Where were the apes? Even the screaming had stopped, and the absence of noise had never made her so uneasy. It was as if the world was waiting for something.
She breathed shallowly and waited too. Any moment now, Commander Darur was going to come marching out of the darkness, that cruel smile on his face, his spirit gem staff shining. Any moment now, the apes would come and find them. Any moment now…
Jei sat down heavily beside Gunbait, clutching his shoulder. "Sounds like s'over. Should we go out?"
"Wait," Lozza grunted. "Jus' in case."
So they waited. And waited. Lozza paced back and forth in front of them, his sword held high, the only one of them still fit to fight. Meredy shuddered in the dirt, her face frozen in shock and terror; Lance was so silent and still he might have died. Charla could hear her own heartbeat, thumping, thumping, thumping…
And then there were voices, calling beyond the trees, echoing in the twilight. The three Skavengers tensed and looked towards the ape camp, but none of them moved or responded. Lozza's fingers drummed on the hilt of his sword.
"D'ye think…" Gunbait started, his voice hushed.
And then, "Ahoy thar! Any mutt or beasty alive in here? Where's me dragons?"
Lozza let his sword-arm drop, and all three of them exchanged a look of utmost relief. He sheathed the blade and cupped his paws around his muzzle.
"Ahoy, Cap'n!" he yelled into the trees. "Over 'ere! We got 'em! We're all 'ere!"
A cry of wordless jubilation answered him, and a few moments later, a figure melted out of the darkness, revealing a painted dog and his grand, feathered hat. And then Captain Bell was sauntering towards them, unharmed and grinning, his face alight with the glow of the lantern in his hand and with the excitement of someone who had unexpectedly, but inarguably, won.
The cliff was gone.
As the captain himself carried Charla out of the trees and into the moonlight, that was the only thing she could see—and she could hardly believe her eyes. If she had been walking herself she would have halted in her tracks, but instead she stared from Captain Bell's arms, feeling like the world had fallen away from beneath her feet. It might as well have.
Where the cliff had once jutted out over the ocean in that pointed prow-like spear, now it crumbled in on itself, leaving a gaping hole in its place, like a wound in the earth. The exposed rock was charred and smoking, and debris still tumbled down the jagged crevice into the restless sea below.
Of the ape camp, very little remained. Several scattered bodies lay limp around the crumbling edges of the crevice, and half of a cart dangled precariously over the void, splintered and smoldering. Everything else had been swallowed by the sea, vanished into the gaping hole where the cliff had once been.
Charla felt sick. She scanned for Commander Darur's tent, but it, too, had vanished. There was nothing but open air where it had once stood, and the commander himself was nowhere to be seen. She searched the scene in disbelief, unsure what to feel. The great ape could not be dead. Not so easily. Not without a bloody fight, a fierce struggle, a heroic battle…
He could not have just plunged into the sea with the rest of his faceless underlings, never to be seen again.
But he was gone, and Charla had no choice but to believe what she was seeing.
Numb and shocked, she did nothing as Captain Bell carried her through the carnage, to where his ship Bluebottle bobbed before the shattered cliffside. Only the cannons peering like huge eyes from its hull showed that it was anything more than an innocent observer. Behind them came the other Skavengers, Lozza carrying Lance, and Gunbait, Jei and Meredy supported by three other pirates that the captain had called to help them. Meredy seemed to have lost the use of her legs, or else had fallen into a kind of stunned, comatose state, and Lance's eyes were closed.
The pirates still on the ship cheered as they approached. No one but Charla seemed to notice the dreadwings wheeling away into the dark sky, riders crouched as shadowy humps upon their backs. She twisted around and saw an ape slinking off into the trees, not looking back.
She shivered. The skurvywing—the monstrous red bird—soared low over their heads and circled the ship, but if it noticed the dreadwings it was not interested in pursuing them.
The first feeble light of dawn crept into the sky. The Skavengers had given their answer.
"Let no mangy apes threaten us again, eh, lads?" Captain Bell called out as he carried Charla up the plank to the ship's deck. "Let 'em end this bloomin' alliance. We've 'ad enough of that bilgerat Gaul an' his ruddy army! If Grand Cap'n Skabb is sick o' bowin' to their whims, then so are we—and let this be our message! The alliance between ape and Skavenger is over! And we are not afraid!"
The pirates hollered their approval, a roar that shook the ship itself, that made its masts shudder against the star-flecked sky. It rolled like a thrill down Charla's spine, and suddenly she found herself afraid. These were not her allies. They had freed her from the apes, and for a moment they had been united against a common enemy, but she was no freer amongst pirates than she was with the Dark Army. She was still a captive. And these Skavengers had just sent countless apes plunging mercilessly to their deaths.
She bucked against the arms that held her and felt the captain laugh, his claws digging into her rope-bound wings.
"Still feelin' feisty, I see!" he guffawed. "Ye'll want to keep that gusto fer the arena, sweetheart! Ye'll make Cap'n Skabb very happy, ye will."
He turned and bellowed, "Let's take the bounty down to the brig, boys! I think they've 'ad enough excitement fer tonight!"
And chortling to himself, he strode through the crowd of pirates, across the expansive deck, and down a creaking wooden staircase into the bowels of the ship. Charla shuddered as the walls closed around her, blocking the sky from view, leading her down into a dank, wooden dungeon. Lanterns swung from the walls, throwing orange light across the corridors, and Captain Bell's footsteps echoed as he went, drumming a rhythm alongside the endless creaking of wood. Charla could see her breath rising as mist from her mouth. The whole corridor seemed to be swaying.
Past a row of doors and down to the very end of the walkway, they came upon a wall of iron bars. The space beyond it was empty, except for a few piles of straw and a wooden bucket in the corner. There were no windows. Charla bucked harder and yelped as Captain Bell dug his claws in hard enough to hurt.
"Y'aint got no hope o' that, lovey," he grunted. "Git the door would ye, Lozza?"
"Aye, Cap'n."
Lozza stumped forward, readjusted Lance on his shoulders, freed a paw, and swung open a gate in the middle of the barred wall. Captain Bell strode in. Charla swung her head around, seeking an escape, but all she could see were wooden walls and more wooden walls. She tried to free her tail, to slash or stab or something, but the Skavenger had pinned it beneath her body and the best she could do was wiggle her tailblade. Before she could do anything more, he deposited her unceremoniously in the straw and grabbed the chain attached to her collar. She lurched to her feet and tried to run for the door, but he yanked her back.
"Yer a spunky li'l one, ain'tcha?" he said with good humour, pulling her closer to the back wall of the prison, where a row of metal rings were embedded in the wood. He stopped and clamped her chain to one of them. "Thar we go, nice an' secure."
She jerked herself forward again, but the chain held fast and the collar bit into her throat. Choking, she stumbled back. Through watering eyes, she saw Lance and Meredy were receiving the same treatment, though neither of them were in any state to struggle. All too soon, they were chained and helpless again. Charla gritted her teeth and blinked her tears away.
Captain Bell smiled as he observed them, hands on his hips, face shadowed beneath his hat. "Look at 'em, lads. What a haul, eh? Think o' the bounty Cap'n Skabb'll give us fer 'em. Dragons! Three o' them!" His eyes roved over them and some of the humour faded from his face. "Bit scruffy, all the same. Mayhaps we can spare 'em a few spirit gems from the stash… An' those muzzles'll have to come off. Can't have me dragons starvin' to death. We've a long way to sail, after all."
Lozza and the other Skavenger grunted their agreement, and the captain's attention turned to Lance.
"This one'll need new shackles, too, look at the poor lad. Can' even stretch his legs! Orlar, I'll leave ye in charge o' that. Git some mutt to help ye, jus' in case. Lozza, ye've done enough fer one night. Up to the deck with ye; some good food's in order. We'll send some down to the dragons, too…"
As Orlar saluted and called "Aye, Cap'n," Captain Bell clapped Lozza on the shoulder and directed him out of the prison and back up the corridor—but not before pausing to fish something out of his pocket.
" 'Ere," he called, tossing a ring of metal keys to Orlar, who caught them deftly. "Ye'll want to lock 'em up when ye leave 'em alone, jus' in case."
Orlar mumbled another "Aye, Cap'n," and then the captain and Lozza were gone, their footsteps disappearing back up the creaking corridor. Giving Charla and the others a vaguely uneasy look, Orlar stepped back through the barred gate and swung it shut. The key clicked in the lock with a heavy clunking sound.
"Don' go anywer now," he said. "I'll be right back."
And he loped away, leaving Charla and her friends alone at last.
As soon as he was gone, Charla stumbled to Lance's side. His steel grey eyes cracked open; there were great dark smudges beneath them.
"Not exactly how I expected this to play out," he said, and his voice sounded hoarser than ever. "You okay, kid? Where's Meredy?"
"Right here," Charla mumbled, glancing briefly towards the sky serpent, who had her paws pressed over her eyes and was trembling with silent sobs. Her heart sank at the sight. "I don't think she's okay…"
"Okay?" Meredy choked through her paws. She pulled her head up and her face was a terrible, tear-streaked mess. "N-none of us are okay! These are pirates! D-don't you realise what they're going to do with us?" She broke off, hiccoughing and gasping. "D-don't you know what Skavengers do? They st-steal children and travellers a-and anyone they're able to chain up, and then put them into their h-horrible arena and make them fight to the death! For their own awful entertainment! Don't you realise? That's what they're going to do to us!"
And she sobbed loudly and covered her face again, digging her claws into her cheeks. Charla didn't know what to say. She did know that. She'd read all about pirates when she was younger; they were some of the few stories she still remembered. But to think that it might happen to her seemed so unreal.
"We won't let it come to that," Lance said, sounding a little stronger for once. "You heard them. The Skavengers will treat us better than the apes did, and that might just give us the chance we're waiting for. We're going to get out of here. One way or another…"
He went silent, his brow furrowing, and Charla hoped he was even now thinking of a plan. Ancestors knew she didn't have one. At least, one that didn't involve Nuala…
She swallowed. "Do you think that commander is dead?"
"The ape?" Lance grunted. "Probably. They blew the whole cliff up and his tent was right in the middle of it. I don't see how he could have escaped."
"Some of them did," Charla mumbled. "There were dreadwings…"
Lance grunted again. "It was a daring move. The Dark Army will find out sooner or later—probably sooner, if some did survive—and then the whole Skavenger fleet is going to be in trouble. But it sounds like they've been on tenterhooks for a while, and sapiens do drastic things when they're backed into a corner… Beats me what all that talk about Cynder was, though. It doesn't make sense. How could they have captured her…"
"I thought that too!" Charla yelped, jumping on the subject. "Isn't she supposed to be dead, anyway? That Kafik ape said so."
"That ape said a lot of weird things," Lance muttered. "But I'd sooner believe she's dead than a prisoner of Skavengers. That just doesn't add up."
He shook his head as if shaking off an irritating bug, then looked at her with hard eyes. Abruptly, Charla realised she was having an almost normal conversation with Lance for the first time in ages. Her face warmed.
"Listen," he murmured, his voice hushed, almost urgent. "If I could—"
But he broke off. There were footsteps coming down the corridor, moaning through the creaking wooden floor. As Orlar appeared with two other Skavengers at his back, Charla turned to face them and bared her teeth. Then she remembered the muzzle and realised it probably made no difference. Lance uttered a kind of long, slow sigh.
"Just be ready," he whispered, barely loud enough for her to hear.
Charla frowned. Ready for what? But she had no time to ask. The Skavengers were already at the bars, and the gate was being unlocked. It swung inward, admitting Orlar and the others, one of whom had a set of chains and manacles bundled in his arms. Charla's heart began to race. Lance's unspoken plan unfolded before her eyes.
She tensed her paws. Orlar paused for half a second.
"We'll change the big'un's shackles firs'," he said, gesturing to the one holding the spare chains. "Quabbe, ye make sure the li'l red one don't get in our way."
They moved further into the cell, and the short, squat Skavenger shifted as if to block Charla's view. She snarled. He pulled a face. The other two grabbed Lance by the paws and dragged him out of her reach.
"Alright now, laddy," Orlar muttered as he leaned over him. "Don't ye go makin' this difficult fer us. Jus' stay nice an' still."
Lance said nothing, but Charla saw his body tense. Orlar pulled a tool out of his pocket.
"Lessee, then…"
For a moment, they were still and silent. The Skavenger wiggled the tool back and forth, back and forth, his tongue sticking out the side of his mouth. Lance didn't move. Charla held her breath.
There was a click.
"Aha!" the pirate crowed, as one of the manacles fell from Lance's foreleg.
Charla twitched, but still Lance didn't move. Orlar started on the next.
One second. Two. Three. Charla could hear her own heart beating and wondered if the Skavengers could hear it too. Meredy had stopped sobbing.
The lock clicked.
It happened so quickly, Charla almost didn't see it. Lance moved like lightning, his forepaws freed, claws slashing upwards—and Orlar fell back howling, blood blossoming through the front of his tunic. The Skavenger behind him dropped the chains and yanked Orlar back, barely missing a second swipe from Lance's claws. At the same time, Charla snarled and launched herself at Quabbe.
He stumbled backwards and her chains stretched taut, yanking her to the floor. She lashed out as she fell, but her claws caught nothing except the edge of the Skavenger's pants, tearing pitifully through fabric. The other Skavenger was yelling something, Lance was trying to stand up on his forelegs alone, and Orlar was pushing himself up on shaky legs, one paw gripping his chest, the other reaching into his pocket.
"Ye blasted dragon!" he snarled. "Ye want ter make this harder, then fine! Sniff on this!"
And he tossed a handful of something straight into Lance's face, where it burst in a spray of red dust. Lance cried out—an odd, strangled yell that Charla had never heard from him before—and with a spluttering, choking cough, he fell sideways to the floor, pawing at his eyes. The other Skavenger dived on top of him, flattening him, and Lance's struggles were feeble. Charla stared in horror, pulling at her chains so hard she could barely breathe through the collar digging into her throat.
"Lance!" she yelled. "What did you do? What did you do to him?"
"Fireplume pollen," Orlar spat. "And if ye don't back off, ye'll get it too! 'Old him still."
He limped back towards Lance, who was twitching on the floor beneath the other pirate, and crouched down with his tool again. Swearing under his breath, he got to work unlocking the last manacles—and even though Charla fought with all her strength, she could not get to them. Quabbe stood ready in front of her, one hand buried in his pocket, poised to throw that pollen stuff into her face, too, no doubt.
A few clicks later, Lance's other paws were free—but he had no chance to use them before new manacles were being snapped around his ankles, chaining them together again. Orlar drew a knife from his belt and Charla yelled, but all he did was sever the straps on Lance's metal muzzle. It hit the floor with a hollow thonk. The Skavengers leapt away.
Wincing, Orlar backed towards the door, passing his knife to his companion. "Do the others, would ye? Blasted things."
"Ye alright?" Quabbe asked, but Orlar waved him aside.
"I'll live. Jus' caught me off-guard. Didn' think he'd be that thick."
Charla growled, and the Skavenger with the knife pointed it at her.
"Try ter bite me an' I'll cut out yer tongue. Don't need that ter fight in th' arena, do ye?"
She gritted her teeth. He didn't seem to be bluffing. And with Lance already down, what chance did she have of fighting them all? She swallowed her snarl.
"Tha's better." Still eyeing her with great suspicion, the painted dog inched closer with the knife still pointed at her face. When she didn't move, he set the blade to the leather straps around her head and cut them straight through. The muzzle fell heavily to the floor.
She loosened her jaw and the Skavenger backpedaled, pointing the knife again, but all Charla did was glare. Looking relieved, he moved over to Meredy and cut her muzzle free without fuss. The only sound she made was a squeak, and her face stayed buried in her paws the whole time.
The pirates left the cell, clanging the door shut behind them, and Orlar fumbled the keys as he locked it. Glaring at Charla and Lance, he muttered, "The cap'n'll send down food an' crystals fer ye later—not that ye deserve it after that stunt."
Then he turned on his heel and limped back up the corridor, the others scrambling in his wake. Charla waited until she could hear them no longer, then pawed Lance's tail. It was the only part of him she could reach.
Groaning under his breath, Lance pushed himself up and staggered to her side. The new chains let him move his legs enough to walk with a short, uneven gait. Charla looked up into his face. His cheeks were wet with tears and his eyes, still streaming, looked painfully red. He coughed.
"Sorry, kid," he croaked. "S'bad plan."
He slumped beside her, rubbing his face. Charla pressed against him.
"Are you okay?"
He gave a watery chuckle. "My eyes are on fire. But it's mostly my pride they wounded. Didn't expect something like that."
"It was a good try," Charla mumbled, as gloom settled on her shoulders. "Almost worked…"
"Well, maybe not 'almost'… "
They fell silent together, recovering from their failed attempt, and in that moment it was as if nothing had ever come between them. As if Charla had not gotten them into this situation in the first place. As if they'd never fought.
Charla rested her head on his shoulder and sighed. At last she could breathe without the muzzle muffling her nostrils, but all she could smell now was the thick, pungent scent of salt, damp wood, and seaweed. At least with the apes she had been able to see the sky…
"How are we going to escape now?" she mumbled.
Lance hummed deep in his chest. "We'll figure something out. Spirit gems will help us think, assuming they really are going to give us some."
Charla shivered at the thought. When was the last time she had seen a spirit gem, let alone touched one? She tried to remember the rush of warmth, the flood of energy—but all she could recall was the cold stream of Nuala's magic bleeding into her fire. Her stomach ached. She didn't want to think about Nuala.
"Where d'you think they're taking us?" she mumbled instead, pressing her cheek hard into his scales.
"Can't say," he replied between sniffs, rubbing his eyes again. "Depends where the Fellmuth is right now. Could be anywhere. The Skavengers don't like to stay in one sp—"
"The Southern Isles."
Lance went silent and both of them turned around. Meredy was finally sitting up, her eyes swollen but no longer wet, and she was the one who had spoken. Charla stared at her.
"How d'you know that?"
Meredy wiped her face with a shaking paw, inhaling an unsteady breath. "I h-heard one of them say so. Before they took us on the ship. They said we'd be sailing to the Southern Isles."
"That's what our friendly captain meant about 'a long way to sail,' then," Lance muttered. "Still. That's good news for us."
He looked pointedly at Charla. She stared back.
"Why?"
"Why?" Lance raised his eyebrows. "Because it means they'll be taking us right past the Well of Souls! If we can time our escape right, we might as well consider this a free ride!"
Charla opened and closed her mouth, speechless. He was right, and that turned this awful situation into a stroke of luck she couldn't have dreamed up herself, but that wasn't what stunned her. For a second, she couldn't speak.
"So, you… You're still… You still want to…" She tried to swallow, but her throat was dry. Lance's face seemed to swim before her eyes. "You're still coming with me?"
As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she wanted to take them back. But it was too late for that and Lance was already speaking, his face settling into a strange but gentle expression.
"Kid… I was always going to come with you. I meant what I said after that mess at Pyreflight. That's never changed."
Charla blinked quickly. That wasn't true. She knew that wasn't true—that all this time he'd wanted to stop her, that his only plan had been to hold her back. She knew that.
…Didn't she?
"But I thought… I thought you…"
His paw fell heavy and warm on her shoulder. "I mean it, Charla. Whatever you've thought of me lately—whatever's been going through your head—I've never changed my mind. I'm coming with you. I promise."
Charla couldn't speak. Something deep in her chest seemed to be breaking apart. She pressed her face into his shoulder. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to, she wanted to. But Nuala's voice was in her head and it danced through all her fears and doubts, through all the dark thoughts that had tormented her these past few weeks, that had driven her to run away.
She could not have been wrong about everything. She was not that stupid.
"But you… You didn't want to come. I thought you would… I thought if I said the wrong thing…" She took a shuddering breath. "You didn't trust me and I couldn't trust you and I tried to make you understand, but you didn't. Nuala was the only one who… Nuala was…"
But her voice broke and all of a sudden reality was crashing down on her in a way that it never had before.
Nuala was gone. Nuala was lost. Nuala was not coming back.
A deep, cold part of her shattered and died. Hot tears filled her eyes; a howl rose in her throat. She gritted her teeth to hold them back, but the sob wracked her whole body and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
Lance shifted, his paws tangling in chains as he tried to wrap them around her. For once, she didn't fight.
"I'm sorry," he said hoarsely, but Charla didn't want to hear it.
"I j-just want Nuala back!" she wailed. "I d-don't care if you hate her! I just want her back! I want her to come back!"
"Oh, kiddo…"
He pulled her close. She choked on her own sobs. And then someone spoke.
Someone with a high, raspy, familiar voice.
"Well, I'm glad you haven't forgotten about me."
Charla wrenched away from Lance and whirled towards the sound, still hiccoughing, her eyes wet. There was nothing there.
That is, until there was something.
On the other side of the bars, the dim, lantern-lit corridor wavered and warped as though distorted by the heat of a fire; a patch of air shimmered and buckled; and a small white figure appeared out of nothing, appeared so suddenly and smoothly that it was as though it had always been there and they had never properly looked.
Charla's tears dried on her cheeks. The shattered world pulled itself back into clear focus.
And Nuala grinned. She was filthy and matted and her feathers were askew, but she was there, she was real, she was alive.
"Hey," she said brightly, as if she'd come back from nothing more than a particularly long walk. "Did you miss me?"
A/N: NaNo's over and I'm back! Got a lot of chapters to edit and not a whole lot more to write until we're at the end of the story! The poll I mentioned last chapter is still up if anyone hasn't voted yet and wants to, but I'll take it down next time I update. Thanks for reading!