“My mother and sister are free,” I said, “because I am not. Such is the balance of the world.”

  “Rodanion filth!” he said, a snarl in his voice. “Liars! I will destroy them all!”

  I stared at him, horrified by his rage, but mortified by the meaning of his words.

  “You mean they’re not safe?” I asked, and the look he turned to me was bleak.

  “Tell me,” he said, “did they give you a choice—enter into contract with them so your mother and sister did not have to go into slavery with you?”

  “Yes,” I said, surprised because he had given me the exact words they’d used.

  “Do you know they give everyone this choice?” he asked, and his face was bleaker still.

  “No,” I said. “I thought…I thought they only gave it to one member of each family.”

  “And that they let the rest go free…”

  “Yes. If we increased our value by learning to read and write, if we learnt our numbers, how to ride and…other things.” I could not bring myself to tell him of those ‘other’ skills, and, to my relief, he did not pry. “If we did all that, then our families would not be needed to meet the quota. Of course, I agreed.”

  He sat down, then, as though his strength ebbed, and I felt suddenly afraid.

  “Did they lie?” I ask, and he nodded.

  “They lied by making you believe your family would not go into slavery. What they said was that your family would not go into slavery with you. They sold them elsewhere, separately from you. Probably gave them the same choice as they gave you. It’s how they keep their prisoners quiet. Mis-using the good-hearted to keep the peace.”

  I wanted to shout, to scream, to call him a liar and run from the room. Instead, I sat on the seat opposite him and stared, too numb to speak or move. They had lied, and, perhaps, I had always known that, but to hear it…

  I cried, then, weeping for my lost family, for the suffering they had faced without me, and I without them. I didn’t know what to say. The man’s next question came almost as a relief.

  “What did you mean by having no regrets?”

  “I…I don’t know. I thought it was because…” My breath caught. “…because my family…”

  I couldn’t say it. My family’s freedom had been a lie. The last ten years…wasted. I pressed my lips together, and stared at him. He stared back, and, finally, I had another question.

  “What do I do, now?”

  He rose from his seat, and crossed to the door.

  “Come with me.”

  I stood up and followed him, across the room, and out again. We traversed the same corridor, but did not return the way we had come. It came as no surprise, when we left the building and I found we were not in Kaskadir.

  Mountains rose around us, and a waterfall thundered down a cliff at the end of the valley. We looked down on the river, which flowed along a gorge down one edge, and vanished around a bend. The forest cloaked the valley hills in shadows and green. Around me, the village buildings stood, sturdy structures of gray stone and dark timber, an entirely different place to my master’s compound on the downs.

  The rider did not pause. He gave me no time to take in my surroundings, but strode down the centre of the village, leaving me to struggle in his wake. He had forgotten, too, my state of dress, and I shivered under the light tunic, missing the feel of breeches covering my legs.

  We drew curious stares, but no one stopped us, until the man was a full building-length ahead. I kept following after him, but my strength was flagging, and there was no way I could keep up with his hurried strides. Finally, a woman appeared at the window of one of the buildings he was passing.

  I saw her glance at him, and then back. She frowned when her gaze landed on me, and she vanished from view. A short time later, I saw her come out the door and hurry down the steps, walking quickly to intercept him before he could go much further.

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  She laid a hand on his upper arm, halting him mid-stride, her lips moving as she looked up into his face. If I had not thought anyone would dare, I would have said she was scolding him, because he looked back at where I was coming up the street, and then hurried back to meet me.

  “I am sorry,” he said, gesturing at my leg. “I had forgotten.”

  I opened my mouth to tell him it was nothing to worry over, when the woman caught up with him, again laying a hand on his arm. He looked down at her, and sighed.

  “This is Marriet. She tells me, I should at least let you dress properly, and that she’s the one to take care of you.”

  I looked from him to Marriet, and then back again.

  “And what do you say?” I asked, causing him to give a short humorless laugh.

  “I say she is right, but that there are people you need to meet.”

  His reply seemed to infuriate the woman and she blurted out, “Dressed like that?”

  He looked at me, again, and shrugged.

  “I meant quickly,” he said, and she subsided.

  “At least let me fetch her a coat, then.”

  “Fine,” he said, “but hurry.”

  Once she had left us, and was hurrying back to the building from which she’d come, the rider turned about.

  “This way,” he said. “Marriet will just have to catch up.”

  He moved more slowly this time, keeping a hand on my shoulder as we went. Marriet caught us, as we turned a corner and headed toward the edge of town.

  “Are you sure?” she asked, looking in the direction we were going, as she helped me into the coat.

  “Yes,” he said. “I’ll let you know how it goes, when we’re done.”

  I wasn’t sure how I felt about this, but didn’t argue. Whatever lay ahead could be no worse than what lay behind. Besides, what other choice did I have?

  We followed the road to the edge of the village, and then kept following it to where it turned into a narrow trail. At first, I thought it led to the water, but then I realized it took a parallel path to the river. We were just passing beneath the trees at the forest’s edge, when a commotion erupted behind us.

  “Drannon!” someone called, but my guide merely walked faster.

  I hurried after him, trying to keep up, and failing. Pain burned along the muscles in my injured leg, and the side where the bandages lay thickest felt strangely hot. My head was starting to pulse with a heartbeat of its own as he raced on ahead.

  There was no point in trying to keep up. I just couldn’t; my body wouldn’t let me. Instead, I set myself the task of staying upright and following the path. Sooner or later, I would find him.

  It ended up being sooner, rather than later. ‘Drannon’, if that was his name, returned back along the path, appearing from around a bend, with several figures accompanying him. At first, I thought it was the shadows and dim forest light that made it hard to see them, but then I realized that those accompanying him blended with the trees.

  Knowing they would reach me soon, I stopped—and that was a mistake, because my leg gave out beneath me, and dumped me in the dirt.

  They gathered around me, concern etching their faces, but I looked to the rider for direction. He reached down and drew me back to my feet, keeping one arm around my waist to steady me. I stared at the creatures with him, and felt just a little bit afraid.

  “What do you say?” Drannon demanded. “Will she do?”

  I glanced up at him in horror. He was selling me to the monsters?

  Something of what I was thinking must have been clear by my expression.

  “It’s not that,” he said. “You are not to be sold. These are the sapparine. They are lizardfolk, friends to the spurline. They wanted to meet with you.”

  “Why?”

  “You spoke to your mount, and were not afraid. If it had been a real spurline, it would have understood you.”

  The world shifted, and I leant on him.

  “What do you mean?”

  This time, one of the sapparine answered me.

  “He means you can direct the creatures with your mind, and that you might be a liaison between us and the dragon.”

  “Dragon?”

  The sapparine looked at Drannon.

  “You did not say she was slow of mind.”

  “She is not,” Drannon replied, “but she is injured.”

  As if to punctuate his words, another man came running down the path.

  “Drannon!” he shouted. “She’s not well enough to leave the hospice. She’s…”

  He stopped, as though noticing the sapparine for the first time.

  “She…” he turned to the lizardfolk. “Forgive me for the interruption.”

  I was feeling tired again. My leg was hurting, but leaning on Drannon meant I did not have to put any weight on it. My side throbbed, and a dull ache had spread through my stomach and back. If I did not sit down soon, I was going to fall down, Drannon’s support, or no. I just wanted them to get done with whatever it was they needed to decide.

  “We will care for her from here,” said the sapparine, who had questioned my intelligence. “The wound was inflicted by one of our creatures.”

  “But…but you don’t’ know anything about humans and how they heal,” he managed.

  I saw the sapparines’ jaws drop in what I later learned was a reptilian smile.

  “We know enough for this,” their leader said.

  He looked straight at Drannon.

  “We will return Marriet’s coat, when we have replaced it with something more suitable.”

  “I… okay,” Drannon agreed, and passed me to the sapparine’s arms, when the lizardman reached for me.

  I did not resist the transfer, or being lifted from the ground, and I fell asleep on the journey back to their caverns. I cannot recall when, but I do know that I did not walk the full distance. I was carried, and, somewhere along the way, I realized I’d already met the three warriors walking beside the one who held me in his arms. They had been disguised as a spurline, right up until they’d called Drannon from the sky.

  It was an interesting thought to fall asleep to, almost as interesting as waking wrapped in spider silk sheets, and cattail-stuffed blankets, but not as interesting as having to dress in a gown of spider silk and reed fiber, under their healer’s watchful eye.

  “You will be fine,” he said, “but you will need a slow beginning, as you gain strength.”

  “A slow beginning?”

  “But a beginning nonetheless,” he told me. “And one, I think, that will compensate for the past.”