Chapter 9: Jemma
Authors Blab: Credit for this chpter goes to the awesome music video by P.O.D. for mood music and general insperation.The next chapter is over half way done and focuses more on Tim than on the Dreki *dodges cabbages* okaaaay. Fine. Read, review, you know what to do.
Biana awoke to agony, as a hand shook her roughly. "Wake up! If you're dead, then I'm the one who's going to get flayed!"
She moaned. "Stop, please, my back, my ba—argh!"
Boaz looked at her, his green eyes unusually large in his silvery face. "A Dreki is dead, Biana. Jemma was found this morning, her throat slit and her hide in tatters."
Biana stopped struggling. "He slew a Dreki? And her Dragon didn't respond?" Jemma? Her mind wailed. Jemma was a younger Dreki, barely into adulthood. Her vivid black and silver coloring reflected clearly in her mind's eye. She was—had been—beautiful. "Why? Was he trying to…?"
"Apparently not." Boaz sighed. "But Biana, we can't do anything. His magic is so much more powerful than ours…and he only uses it for good."
"But he forbids us to have children, Boaz," she said softly. "A good man would never do such a thing. He knows we need every child, for without them we will die out."
"Our numbers are still great," Boaz said, resting his hand against Biana's cheek. "Ten score elders, twenty score of our age, and at least four score of the littlest."
"That's six hundred and eighty of us, and almost three hundred of us are too old, too young, or too weak to fight. Our numbers are few, and will become fewer," Biana protested, pushing away from the other Dreki. "He is not of our people, and yet he imposes birthrates on us. He kills one of our people without consulting the elders to see if he should. He is bad, Boaz."
Boaz said nothing, but the slight nod of his head as he smoothed her hair back into it's complicated mass of knots and braids showed his consent. "I brought you a new dress," he said in a change of subject. "Ju told me to bring you one."
Biana accepted it and slid into another cell to put it on. It was less fine than her ruined dress, but silk and satin were both going out of season anyway. This was wool, dark red, with faint patterns of darker red at the sleeves and hem. "Thank you," she said, stepping out, but Boaz had already disappeared.
Ju walked in. Today she was wearing a black dress with complex silver embroidery. Her blue eyes were narrowed to slits in her silver face. "Hello, Biana," she said coldly. Biana looked at her, confused.
"Where'd you get that, Ju?" she asked.
"None of your business," Ju hissed, one of her silvery hands going to the fine fabric. "Jemma's dead."
The golden Dreki shifted nervously. "Yes, I'd heard. Is her funeral service tonight?"
"No," Ju spat. "There isn't going to be a funeral service, and even if there was, you wouldn't be allowed."
Biana recoiled from the anger in Ju's voice. "What do you mean? Is Ju not being mourned properly—and why wouldn't I be allowed?"
The silver Dreki spat on the stone floor, her words dripping with poison. "You are the causer-of-death for Jemma. If it weren't for you, Jemma would be alive!" she half-shrieked.
She shrank away. "I would never hurt Jemma! She was my best friend!"
"You killed her! She died because of you!" Ju screamed. Outside a dragon screamed too, beating it's wings and roaring at the sun.
Biana was shocked. Ju was way out of line—it was a responsibility to keep your emotions under control so that they did not upset your dragon! "Calm yourself before your dragon kills us all!" Biana hissed. "I did not kill Jemma!"
"You did! You should have died, not Jemma!" Ju reverted back to a hiss of contempt. "You scaly worthless piece of dung," she snapped, then strode out of the hall, the fine silver-and black-dress swishing behind her. The door slammed.
Biana sat in total shock. The one Dreki she'd thought would reassure her at this confusing time had just crushed her hopes.
"Biana? What was that all about?"
She walked down to the last cell, where Severus Snape stood, face pale and hair in disarray. Only his eyes remained the same, a spark in the depths. Not beaten yet. He handed her the notepad. She slid down to the floor, the muscles in her legs trembling at this small walk.
He killed a Dreki: Jemma. You wouldn't know her, but one of the agreements when he parleyed with us was that he would not kill any of us. It's hard for us to bear children. He knows that. He's undermining our society.
"Okay, then what was with that Ju lizard…that is her name? Yes. Well, she sounded mad."
I don't know. At Snape's questioning look, she added She didn't really have a reason to act like that. Jemma wasn't related to her. I didn't even think Ju knew who Jemma was until today, when Jemma was killed.
"How easy is it to kill a Dreki?" Biana shot him a withering look. "Stop it. I wanted to know because, well, if he has a hard time killing you off, then you'll have more time to resist."
I wouldn't know. None of us have died for almost a millennium.
"And how old are you?"
One millennium, six centuries, four decades, five years and about one hundred and twenty-seven days.
Snape gave her an odd look. "Just years would have been okay."
1645 years.
"And how mature are you considered?" Biana shrugged. "Guess. Are you a teenager, young adult, mature adult…?"
Young adult.
"So you pretty much live forever."
That's about it.
"God," Snape moaned. "This gets worse and worse. I just wish we had a translator or something so that we could talk faster. Someone who speaks Parseltounge."
Are there any others besides my Lord?
"None that I would trust," Snape snapped. "It is a Dark trait, you know." Biana pointed at herself. "Well, that's what I've always heard. Sorry." Biana waved it off. She gestured impatiently at the paper. "Okay, okay. We need to find someone who hates my Lord, who speaks both Parseltounge and English, and is somewhere close to here. Where is 'here' anyway?"
Scandinavia. What you mortals call Norway.
"I can't think of anyone!' Snape complained. He pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his head on them. Biana was suddenly struck by how very thin he was. Even inside the loose black robes he wore she could see the curving outlines of his ribs. His arms were so thin that they looked fragile and his cheekbones made white mountain peaks above the dark hollows of his eyes.
What about your students? Are you hungry?
"None of them would understand! And yes, I am very hungry. What do Dreki eat?"
Raw meat. Seeing his look of disgust, she added I can find something else.
"I'm hungry enough to eat a llama, fleece and all," Snape proclaimed. "Raw. Anything would be great."
Biana grinned wickedly, making a mental note to include some wool in Snape's meal. She left the room to go find some food suitable for a human, smiling slightly and shaking her head. What an oddball human being.
