"See?" Grib said, pointing behind Jack. "There she is."

  Jack spun around. There she was, all right, slipping out the door into the night to report to her masters.

  Jack snarled one of Uncle Virgil's favorite curses, his eyes darting to the floor and the tables. The floor? Too crowded. He'd never make it around everyone and catch up with her. Not with the lead she already had.

  The tables, then? Leap up onto one of them, bound across to the next, and so on to the door? But there were just as many people around the tables as there were in the narrow aisles between them. And the tables were loaded with dishes and cups besides.

  No, there was only one way to stop her now. Only one person who could catch her before she blew the whistle and brought the whole Chookoock family down on them.

  "Draycos," he hissed. "We haven't got a choice." The dragon didn't answer, but Jack could feel him coil himself to spring. Jack braced himself, wondering dimly what all the scoffers would say when the golden dragon actually appeared.

  Then, from the direction of the doorway came a sudden squawk. There was a second squawk; and to Jack's amazement, Lisssa reappeared in the doorway. She hesitated, as if unwilling to continue; and then a large human hand appeared from the darkness and shoved her roughly all the way inside.

  And stepping into the hut behind her—

  "Here you go, Jack," Fleck called cheerfully across the room as he gave Lisssa another shove. "This what you were looking for?"

  CHAPTER 31

  Jack felt his knees go suddenly weak. Fleck. Bright red sash across his chest. Slapstick at his side. Full authority of the Brummgas at his back.

  But he, Jack, had Draycos. A single command, and the K'da warrior would leap out of his collar and tear Fleck into small, bloody pieces—

  "Here," Fleck said, flipping something small toward Jack.

  Automatically, Jack reached out and caught it. It was a comm clip, one side colored and shaped just like a Dolom scale. "What's this?" he asked, frowning up at Fleck again.

  "This—" Fleck shook Lisssa's arm "—is a Brummgan spy. Gazen gives them special privileges in exchange for information." He spun Lisssa around and gave her a final shove that landed her on one of the benches. "I've suspected her for a long time."

  "Ask if she communicated with them," Draycos murmured in Jack's ear.

  "Was she able to get off a message just now?" Jack asked.

  "I don't think so," Fleck said. "But my guess is they already know something's up. If we're going to go, we'd better be quick."

  Jack blinked. " 'We'?"

  "Sure." Fleck smiled tightly, sending a look around the room. "Like Jack said," he went on, raising his voice. "Anyone else hate this place enough to go with us?"

  "It's a trick," someone growled. "Fleck's one of them, too."

  "None of the rest of us carry weapons," someone else added pointedly.

  Fleck didn't even bother to glance that direction. He started toward Jack, the crowd melting away from in front of him.

  And as he got within arm's length he drew his slapstick.

  Jack tensed. But Fleck merely turned the weapon around and handed it to him, handle first. "I'm willing to take a chance," the big man said, looking around the room again. "How about you?"

  For a moment the room was silent. Then, in twos and threes, the slaves began murmuring quietly among themselves. "If this is a trick," Jack said quietly to Fleck, "I'll make it my business to be sure you're the first one in the Brummgas' line of fire."

  "It's no trick," Fleck said, just as quietly. "Strange things have been happening around here lately. Odd footprints in the dirt. Odd activity by the Brummgas at night. Someone carefully cutting their way through the thorn hedge."

  He must have seen something in Jack's face, because he smiled suddenly. "Oh, yes, I knew about that. The Brummgas tried to keep it quiet. But I knew."

  He nodded fractionally to the side. "And now we've got Noy coming back from an isolation hut with stories about gold dragons."

  "What do you think it all means?" Jack asked, keeping his voice even.

  "Maybe it's nothing but wishful thinking," Fleck said bluntly. "Maybe you're just a con man playing on old legends and gullible types like Muskrack who find omens in everything they see or hear. Maybe all you're doing is trying to turn us into a distraction so you can sneak out alone." He paused, his eyes steady on Jack.

  "I came back to get Noy," Jack told him. "I just thought some of the rest of you would like to get out, too."

  Fleck snorted under his breath. "And maybe you're such a good con man that you can sound as honest as you're sounding right now."

  Jack felt a stirring of anger. Here he was, risking his own life and freedom for these people. Living up to the K'da warrior ethic that Draycos was always prattling on about. And all Fleck could think about was that it might be a con? "Look, Fleck—"

  Fleck stopped him with an upraised hand. "All I know is two things," he said. "One, that none of this strange stuff happened until you showed up. And two—"

  He looked at Noy. "There's no way that kid came up with that poem on his own. No way. Something big is going on, and I'm willing to take a chance on it."

  His eyes drilled into Jack's face. "Just remember one thing. I'm the one responsible for these people. It's my job to keep them in line so that the Brummgas will stay off their backs. If you're spouting smoke . . . you understand me?"

  Jack swallowed. "Perfectly."

  "Jack, may I have a word with you?" Draycos murmured at his ear.

  Jack took a deep breath. "I'm going to take a quick look outside," he told Fleck. "Be right back."

  He could feel the slaves' eyes following him as he made his way to the door. Maybe they were wondering if he'd given up on them and was heading out on his own.

  Good. A little pressure might help them make up their minds.

  He'd half expected to find a ring of armed Brummgas waiting outside. But the night was quiet. "I know what you're thinking," he told Draycos before the dragon could say anything. "And I suppose it is stupid to trust Fleck. But as near as I can read him, he seems okay."

  "I agree," Draycos said calmly. "There is no reason for him to have stopped Lisssa if he was on the Brummgas' side."

  "Unless it's a setup," Jack said, as the thought suddenly struck him. "Maybe Lisssa never was a spy."

  "No," Draycos said. "I had not thought of it before, but when she came to the frying pan to offer you food, I did not smell any paint on her. Yet she implied Her Thumbleness had brought her into the house for that purpose."

  "Right," Jack said, nodding. Now that Draycos mentioned it, he hadn't smelled anything, either. "So she was a spy. Good. What did you want to talk to me about?"

  "I merely wondered if you had considered the extra problems involved in bringing such a large group of slaves with us," the dragon said.

  Jack looked sideways down into his collar. "I thought you were the one who hated slavery so much."

  "I did not say I did not approve," Draycos said, a little huffily. "I merely asked if you had considered the problems."

  Behind Jack, the meal hall door opened. Jack turned to see Fleck come out, a small group of slaves behind him. "All set," Fleck said. "This is it."

  Jack felt his throat tighten. Of the hundred and fifty slaves inside, no more than twenty had elected to come. "This is it?"

  "Life inside the wall is a known," Fleck said grimly. "Life outside is an unknown. What can I say?"

  "Even when that known is slavery?"

  "This is the group," Fleck said. "Take it or leave it."

  Jack looked them over. Muskrack the Parprin was there, he saw. So were Maerlynn, and Noy, and even Greb and Grib.

  His mind flashed back to Maerlynn's comment that first night in the slaves' quarters. That the Jantri twins, who had never known any life besides slavery, were quite happy under Chookoock family rule. And yet, here they were.

  One of Uncle Virgil's favorite sayings ran through the back of his mind. Unle
ss you become like a little child, you cannot enter the kingdom of heaven . . .

  Of course, Uncle Virgil had generally used the line in regard to some job where Jack was supposed to con his way into a particularly well-stocked vault somewhere. But it applied even better here. "We take it, of course," he said.

  "Good," Fleck said. "What's the plan?"

  "Diversion," Draycos murmured in his ear. "Glider."

  Jack frowned. He dearly wished Draycos would stop throwing these short, cryptic messages at him. "First things first," he said. "Do I understand we have a glider available?"

  Fleck blinked in surprise. "You know about that?"

  "Of course," Jack said, trying to sound casual. It must be something Draycos had found on one of his nighttime walks. "The question is, how do you know about it?"

  Fleck's lip twitched. "I was the one who helped Noy's parents build it. Unfortunately, they got caught before they could use it to take him out."

  "Not so unfortunately," Jack told him. "If they had, all three of them would be dead. The wall has lasers and flame jets aiming upwards to stop anyone who tries to get in or out."

  "I didn't know that," Fleck said in a low voice. "So I guess that's it for the glider."

  "Not necessarily," Jack said. An idea was taking shape in the back of his mind as Draycos's cryptic comment started to make sense. "Do we know how many armed Brummgas they've got in the estate?"

  Fleck shrugged. "I'd guess sixty or seventy."

  "Vehicles?"

  "A couple dozen of those open-topped cars," Fleck said. "There are also six small airfighters—Clax-7 patrol planes, six-seaters. Those are probably armed."

  "Then we're in business," Jack said. "How long will it take to get the glider ready to fly?"

  "It's mostly ready now," Fleck said. "I just need to wind up the launcher and fire it off."

  "And it'll go over the wall?"

  Fleck grimaced. "Halfway over, anyway."

  "That's all we'll need," Jack assured him. "How many people will it take to get it going?"

  Fleck was eying him closely. "I can do it myself," he said.

  "Okay," Jack said. "That's your job, then."

  He gestured over his shoulder. "The rest of us are going to go through the thorn hedge and head for the front of the house. There are some transports there, big ones that can get us off-planet. We'll borrow one, and take it right through the gate."

  "Who's going to fly it?" someone asked.

  "I will," Jack said.

  "How will we get through the hedge?" Maerlynn asked.

  "Yeah," Muskrack agreed. "They watch that gap."

  "There's another opening we can use, about a hundred yards east of the road," Jack told him. "Once you fire off the glider, Fleck, you head there and catch up with us."

  "What about the guards?" Noy asked.

  "Most of them should charge off to see who was trying to get over the wall," Jack said. "We'll just have to take care of whoever's left by ourselves."

  "What, with that?" someone asked, pointing to the slapstick Fleck had given Jack.

  Jack smiled. "Hardly," he said. "I've got a friend already on it."

  There was a moment of awkward silence. "A friend?" someone asked pointedly.

  "Trust me, he's more than able to deal with the Brummgas," Jack assured him, grimacing to himself. Trust me, he'd said; only these weren't fellow con men he was trying to talk into helping on some scheme. These were slaves, who'd seen every other escape attempt ruthlessly crushed by their Brummgan masters.

  There was another moment of silence. "Well, then, we'd better get going," Fleck said with a hearty confidence Jack could tell he didn't entirely feel. "You have any other instructions?"

  Jack took a deep breath. "You've got five minutes to gather whatever you want to take with you," he said, pointing toward the sleeping quarters. "Fleck, give us—" he paused, doing a quick estimate "—give us twenty minutes before you fire off the glider. Can you do that?"

  Fleck nodded. "Sure."

  "And really hustle on your way back," Jack warned. "Once we start our play, we may not be able to slow it down. Okay; everyone go get your stuff."

  The group scattered, the slaves hurrying toward the two sleeping huts. "Good luck," Jack said, nodding to Fleck.

  "See you soon," Fleck said. Giving Jack one last measuring look he turned and headed the opposite way into the forest.

  "What now?" Draycos murmured.

  "First job is to get through the hedge," Jack told him, heading toward a wide tree twenty yards from the light pouring out of the huts. "Think you can finish that hole you were working on?"

  "No problem."

  "Gazen may still have guards watching it," Jack pointed out. "You'll have to deal with them."

  "As I said, no problem," the dragon repeated. "And then?"

  "I'm afraid you're going to get the heavy end of this one, buddy," Jack said. Reaching the wide tree, he slid halfway around it, putting his right sleeve out of sight from the slave areas. "You're going to have to clear the path for us through whatever guard posts the Brummgas have out there. And you're going to have to do it without letting any of our group spot you. I know that's a lot to ask."

  "You have not yet truly seen what a K'da warrior can do, Jack," Draycos said. "Where shall I meet you when I am finished? At the mercenary transports?"

  "Right," Jack said, his throat suddenly feeling dry. The grim confidence in the dragon's voice was just a little scary. "I'll pick the best-armored one and set it to ram the gate. We'll take the next-best-armored one to ride out in."

  "You will need to alert Uncle Virge that we are coming."

  Jack nodded. "I'll call him as soon as you're on your way. Any questions?"

  "None." With a flicker of weight, Draycos slid out of Jack's sleeve. "I will see you there."

  "Good luck," Jack called softly as the dragon bounded off into the night.

  "Warrior's luck," Draycos corrected over his shoulder.

  He disappeared behind a stand of rainbow berry bushes and was gone. Glancing once more around him, Jack lifted his left foot and pried back the sole.

  Uncle Virge, he thought darkly, was going to love this.

  CHAPTER 32

  The last hint of glow was gone from the western sky. Draycos moved across the ground like a golden shadow, quick and silent.

  A golden shadow that was rapidly fading to black as his pounding heart drove dark blood into his muscles and scales. A poet-warrior of the K'da, in full combat readiness.

  Jack had indeed never seen what a K'da warrior could do. He probably wouldn't see it now, either.

  The hidden Brummgan watcher was just settling into position when Draycos arrived at the hedge. Comfortably concealed, no doubt feeling quite pleased with himself, the guard was clearly not expecting any trouble.

  He didn't so much as squeak as Draycos knocked him cold.

  The hedge itself was still the tangled mess he'd found on his previous visits. But now that he didn't have to conceal his handiwork, the thorny branches retreated before his slashing claws like driftwood before an incoming wave. A few minutes' work, and he had a hole that even Fleck would find adequate.

  So far it had been easy, simple tasks that even a raw K'da trainee could handle. Now came the tricky part.

  The breeze was coming steadily from the west. Crossing through the hedge, he swung wide to the east, downwind of whatever sentries and hidden guard posts the Brummgas had set up to watch the gaps in the hedge. He ran hard and open along the ground, sniffing the air as he went, trusting his now completely black scales to conceal him.

  So the glider had been built by Noy's parents. At least that explained why he'd detected the boy's scent at the site.

  Or did it?

  Because it was clear that no one had worked on the glider for quite some time. From the way Maerlynn had talked, he'd had the impression Noy's parents had died at least a few months ago.

  Which meant that whatever he'd smelled at the glide
r had gone through several months of wind, rain, nosy animals, and simple evaporation. K'da senses were good, but they weren't that good. Not by a long throw. Not by several long throws.

  At least, not under normal circumstances.

  The odor of distant Brummga touched his snout and tongue, and he took a quick bearing that direction. There was a stone fountain several hundred yards away, probably where the guard was lurking. Mentally marking the spot for future reference, he continued on.

  For that matter, his sense of smell shouldn't be good enough for this task, either. In fact, now that he thought about it, all his senses seemed to have been gradually improving over the past couple of months.

  The past three months, in fact. Ever since he'd teamed up with Jack. The question was, why?

  There was one rather unpleasant possibility. Ancient legend said that as a K'da approached death, his senses often sharpened dramatically.

  But that couldn't be it. Draycos had been very close to death aboard the Havenseeker, just before Jack showed up. He hadn't felt any dramatic surge in his hearing or smell then. At least, he didn't think so.

  For that matter, he felt perfectly fine right now. Better than he had in years, actually. Certainly nowhere near close to death.

  But there was also that strange incident back at the frying pan, where he'd somehow fallen off Jack's back and through the wall of their prison. Could Jack have been right about his human body somehow rejecting the K'da symbiont?

  Because if that were true—if humans could only serve as temporary hosts to K'da—then it was possible that Draycos was indeed near death right now. Nearer, perhaps, than any symptoms might show.

  But true or not, there was nothing he could do about it. And whatever the future held, right now he had some slaves to free.

  He had circled nearly to the mansion itself before he was confident that he'd marked all the hidden guards. There were three groups in concealed sentry posts, plus four other groups who had taken up positions behind flower gardens or trees or fountains. Most likely, those latter ones had been rushed in as backup troops in response to Jack's disappearance.

  Which was fine with Draycos. Personally, he liked having enemies bunch up this way. It made them easier to find.