Dragonback 01 Dragon and Thief

  He could also hear the faint sound of footsteps now, approaching from the direction they'd just come. They sounded like they were running, too.

  Jack clenched his teeth. Directly ahead of him, he suddenly realized, was the building's main door, half hidden in the balcony's shadow. Was that what the crazy dragon had in mind? That Jack should slam into the door hard enough to break it down? He opened his mouth to object—

  "Jump!" Draycos ordered, his voice sounding nearly as close as if he'd been riding Jack's shoulder. Automatically, Jack obeyed, bending his knees and jumping as hard as he could. Something slammed into his back, two other somethings jammed hard up under his arms—

  And to his shock he found himself arcing upward straight at the balcony.

  He didn't have time for anything but a startled yelp before the balcony rail caught him just below the tops of his boots, flipping him over toward a headfirst landing.

  Draycos, still gripping him under his arms, got there first. He rolled around beneath Jack as they fell, taking the full brunt of Jack's weight on himself as they sprawled onto the balcony.

  "Quiet—they approach," Draycos whispered into his ear. "Down, and behind me."

  Jack rolled off onto the dragon's far side, too winded by their landing to say anything. The footsteps were much closer now, and definitely running. Pulling his knees to his chest, rubbing his shins under the tops of his boots where the railing had hit them, he clamped his teeth together hard and lay still. Behind him, he felt Draycos curl around his back, protecting him from view from the street.

  The footsteps came to a point just beneath the balcony and faltered to a halt. "What the frunge?" a human voice said quietly. "Where'd the little blinker go?"

  "I don't like this," a second human voice growled. "He wasn't that far ahead of us."

  "Maybe he picked a lock and went inside somewhere," the first voice suggested. "He's supposed to be good at that."

  There was a deep snort. "What, into a Wistawki house?" an equally deep voice demanded. Too deep for human vocal cords, Jack decided. "In this neighborhood? Today? He's not that stupid."

  "Hey, the kid just got here," First Voice said. "He wouldn't know."

  From the distance came a faint roar. Carefully, Jack turned his head just enough to see the sky behind him. There, at the corner of his vision, he spotted the familiar sight of a starship shooting up toward the clouds.

  A familiar sight, and an all-too-familiar engine pitch.

  "Oh, frunge," First Voice said disgustedly. "There goes the uncle. Looks like your buddies muffed it."

  There was a dark-sounding rumbling noise. Jack frowned. He'd heard that sound before.

  Abruptly, it clicked. A bass drum being attacked by a bunch of chipmunks. Apparently, he and Draycos had run into another Brummga.

  "They have not muffed it, Drabs," the Brummga ground out. "If the uncle escaped, it is because your people failed their job."

  "Yeah?" First Voice—Drabs—retorted. "Well, if your group—"

  "Both of you shut up," Second Voice cut them off. "Forget the uncle. As long as we have the kid, he'll come when he's called."

  "Except that we haven't got the kid," Drabs pointed out.

  "We'll get him," Second Voice promised, and there was something in his tone that made Jack shiver. "Don't you worry about that."

  "Perhaps the great Lieutenant Raven knows what we do not," the Brummga rumbled sarcastically. "Tell us what you know, Lieutenant Raven."

  "Watch your mouth, Brummy," Drabs warned. "You people work for us, not the other way around."

  "For starters, I know he didn't sprout wings and fly away," Second Voice—Raven—said. "What about those balconies? Drabs?"

  "Already checked 'em out," Drabs said. "Nothing that could possibly be human on any of them. Anyway, he'd have needed a jet pack to get up there."

  "Then he's still ahead of us," Raven concluded. "Move out, and make sure he doesn't go to ground."

  The footsteps resumed, continuing down the street. Carefully, Jack turned onto his back, easing his head up just enough to see over Draycos's side. The two men and their lumbering Brummgan companion were hurrying away down the street, looking right and left to check out possible hiding places.

  One of the men, he saw, had an infrared scanner strapped over one eye. All three of them were wearing holstered guns at their sides.

  Jack eased back down again, listening to the footsteps fade away into the city noises. "Good thing they've never seen a K'da before," he whispered. "I wonder what you look like on an infrared scanner."

  "I do not know," Draycos whispered back. "Are you injured?"

  "Not enough to worry about," Jack assured him. In point of fact, his shins were throbbing, and would probably ache for at least a couple more days. Compared to possibly getting shot, it didn't seem worth mentioning.

  "I did not intend to miss with the jump," Draycos said. "I apologize."

  "It's okay," Jack said. "The boots absorbed most of the impact. I'm still surprised you were able to jump this high with a hundred-odd pounds of Jack Morgan weighing you down."

  "I am relieved that it was successful," Draycos said. "Still, I regret my error."

  "I said forget it," Jack said impatiently. The sort of people he and Uncle Virgil usually hung around with never apologized even once, let alone twice. The dragon's groveling was making him feel uncomfortable. "Hey, no hospital, no foul."

  "Pardon?"

  "Skip it." Jack took a deep breath. "So they were waiting for me. And for Uncle Virgil."

  "So it would seem," Draycos agreed. "How is it they do not know he is dead?"

  "We didn't exactly announce it to the news nets," Jack said. "Matter of fact, we kept it as quiet as possible. I already told you why."

  "Yes; the ownership of your spacecraft," Draycos said. "That point does not appear to apply any longer."

  "And that might be a problem," Jack admitted, gazing up at the clouds drifting across the stars. There was nothing to see—Uncle Virge and the Essenay were long gone. "They must have been trying to break into the ship," he said. "That's the only reason Uncle Virge would have cut and run."

  "Will he simply abandon you?"

  Jack shrugged. "We have a standard plan for situations like this," he said. "He'll try first to sneak back into one of the smaller spaceports on Vagran and wait for me. If I don't show, or if he can't get back in without attracting attention, he'll go to a rendezvous spot on another planet and wait for me there."

  "That assumes we will be able to get off this world."

  "Normally that wouldn't be a problem," Jack said. "There are regular passenger shuttles, and there's always a way to make enough money for a ticket." He grimaced. "Of course, with Lieutenant Raven on our trail it might not be that easy. I wonder what he's a lieutenant of."

  For a minute they lay together in silence. "They expected your return," Draycos said at last. "That would mean they are involved with the falsified theft. Perhaps we should try to learn more about them."

  "What, you mean go looking for them?" Jack snorted. "At three to one odds? You must be joking."

  "The correct ratio is three to two," Draycos corrected him. "You have forgotten about me."

  "Hardly," Jack said, carefully sitting up. There was no sign of Raven and his buddies anywhere he could see. "You were the one on our side I was counting."

  "Ah," Draycos said, uncurling himself. "I see."

  "Right," Jack said. "Come on, let's get out of here."

  "Sooo soooon?" a slurred and raspy voice came from the corner of the balcony.

  Jack froze halfway to his feet. There, sitting against the rail in the shadow between two huge potted plants, was the thin figure of a Wistawk. "Sorry," Jack apologized. "We didn't mean to intrude."

  "Not at all," the Wistawk said, getting to his feet like a collapsible ruler unfolding. He wobbled for a moment as if trying to get back on balance, then abruptly straightened to stand perfectly upright. "Come," he said, darting suddenl
y to the edge of the balcony to stand between Jack and the rail. "Come inside. Join the festivities."

  "Ah . . . thanks," Jack said, trying to ease his way past their would-be host. The Wistawk clearly was drunk, and in his state probably thought Jack was another of his species.

  Whoever was inside, though, probably wouldn't make that mistake. The Brummga's earlier comment about only a fool trying to sneak into a house in this neighborhood flitted through his mind. Had there been some sort of trouble between humans and Wistawki on Vagran today?

  The Wistawk was too fast for them. Moving like a large four-limbed insect, he again got between Jack and any chance of escape. Dimly, Jack wondered how fast the alien would be able to move if he wasn't drunk. "Come inside," he repeated. "Preenoffneoff!"

  Jack winced as, behind him, the balcony doors were flung open. "Ah, Preenoffneoff!" the drunk Wistawk greeted the newcomer. "Another guest! Welcome him!"

  "Another guest?" the newcomer said. His voice, as near as Jack could tell, was stone-cold sober. "What is the meaning of this?"

  Slowly, Jack turned around. Another Wistawk, even taller and thinner than the drunk, was standing in the doorway. His arms were folded, and he was staring at Jack with an unreadable expression. In the room behind him were at least twenty more of the aliens, seated in concentric circles around a pair sitting by a fireplace in the center. All were dressed in glittering finery, with ornate headpieces that caught the candlelight and scattered it around the room. All had apparently stopped what they were doing and were looking toward the balcony.

  And with a sinking feeling in his stomach, Jack realized what they had done.

  He and Draycos had just crashed a Wistawki bonding ceremony.

  CHAPTER 13

  "Shall we leave?" Draycos murmured from beside him.

  "No," Jack muttered back. He'd already seen how fast a drunk Wistawk could move. The group inside didn't seem likely to be that handicapped, which meant that outrunning them was out of the question. Now, too late, he remembered that the Wistawki he and Uncle Virgil had conned all those years ago had been rather elderly. Maybe that was the only reason the two of them had made it out of that scam alive.

  Preenoffneoff took a long step out onto the balcony. "Who are you?" he demanded, his voice sounding like sticks clattering together.

  Did that mean he was getting angry? Jack wished he knew. "Who am I?" he echoed, stalling for time as he tried desperately to remember something—anything—about bonding ceremonies. Uncle Virgil had had him read up on Wistawki culture in general for that scam, but this particular subject hadn't really come up.

  They were sort of like human weddings, he vaguely remembered, but a lot more rowdy. One of the articles he'd read had compared them to a combination of wedding, pie-eating contest, and carnival. They also usually covered a two- or three-block area, with all of the happy couple's neighbors involved in the ceremonies in some way.

  No wonder the Brummga had scoffed at the idea of Jack being able to disappear into this neighborhood. If they got mad at him crashing their party, there would be an awful lot of Wistawki he would have to run through before he reached someplace safe.

  But even as that depressing thought occurred to him, the key word clicked.

  Carnival!

  "Who am I?" Jack repeated, drawing himself up to his full height. "Why, I'm one of the entertainers, of course. The Great Jack O'Lantern, here to amaze and enchant and astound the young ones. I trust I'm not late?"

  Preenoffneoff had been starting to take another step toward them. Now, though, he paused. "I didn't hire any humans," he said.

  "Not specifically," Jack said. "The agency sent me over."

  He reached down and patted Draycos's head. "Jack O'Lantern and his amazing electromechanical assistant Draycos." He frowned. "Surely you've heard of us. The Skyway Pavilion on Scintrell? I was one of the star performers there only three years ago."

  "There are so many," Preenoffneoff said, waving a hand in a vague gesture as he stepped to one side. "Very well. Come inside."

  "Thank you," Jack said, bowing from the waist. "A moment while I get Draycos reset."

  He leaned over and reached under Draycos's neck. "I hope you know what you are doing," Draycos murmured.

  "Me, too," Jack whispered. "Just play off my cues, and remember you're supposed to be a mechanical robot. Can you sing or dance or anything?"

  Draycos turned his head slightly to gaze directly into Jack's eyes. Jack swallowed; those green eyes did not look very friendly at the moment. "Dance?" he repeated ominously.

  "No, no, of course not," Jack said hastily. "That's okay, we'll skip the dance."

  "Are you ready?" Preenoffneoff asked.

  "Ready, willing, and able," Jack said, straightening up. "Lead the way."

  The Wistawk turned and walked back into the room. Putting on his most confident smile, Jack followed.

  "The whelps are there," Preenoffneoff said, pointing to the outer circle, a ring of short Wistawki Jack hadn't been able to see from the balcony. "We will see your performance now."

  "Certainly," Jack said, forcing his smile to stay in place as he felt sweat gathering on his forehead. He had assumed the youngsters would be off in another room somewhere, away from the main festivities. Clearly, the carnival atmosphere was for the adults, too.

  Which meant a bigger audience. A more discerning audience. An audience that might decide to tear him into pieces if they didn't like the show.

  Terrific.

  "Good evening, all," he said cheerfully, bowing to the room in general. "My name is Jack O'Lantern, and this is my amazing electromechanical assistant Draycos. Say hello to the folks, Draycos."

  Draycos drew himself up, as if he was going to refuse to play along with this charade. Jack held his breath . . ..

  The dragon dropped his head and neck nearly to the floor in a stylized bow of his own, his tail arching up over his head. "Good evening, all," he said.

  Holding the pose, he fluttered the tip of his tail as if waving. "And a special good evening to the whelps," he added.

  There was an almost human giggle from the outer circle, and Jack started to breathe again. "That's Draycos," he said as Draycos straightened up. "Did I mention he's my amazing electromechanical assistant?"

  "Yes," one of the whelps obligingly called.

  "He looks real," one of the others added.

  "Of course he's real," Jack said. "A real robot. Maybe later, if you're good, I'll let one of you push some of his buttons."

  "Me!" the first whelp yipped.

  "No, me!" someone else insisted.

  "Later," Jack reminded them. "Don't worry, there's enough of him to go around."

  There was just the hint of a growl from Draycos, but the dragon didn't say anything. "Now, I need someone to go find me a few things," Jack continued, stepping over to the refreshment table set out along the wall beside the door to the balcony. One of the serving plates was loaded with raw fruits and vegetables. "I'll need a deck of ordinary playing cards, three opaque cups—those are cups you can't see through—and some string or thin rope. And three coins, any size."

  "I'll get the cards!" one of the whelps said, scrambling to his feet. Two others were right behind him, scattering to different parts of the house.

  "You do not have your own equipment?" Preenoffneoff asked.

  "I have my amazing electromechanical assistant Draycos," Jack reminded him. He reached to the fruit plate and selected an apple, a pear-shaped white fruit, and a polka-dotted thing the size and shape of a small zucchini. "For everything else, I prefer to borrow from my audience."

  He smiled out at the crowd. "After all, anyone can do tricks with special cards, can't they?"

  "Show us some tricks!" one of the whelps called impatiently.

  "Gee, I don't know if I can," Jack said with mock uncertainly. He stepped away from the table and tossed the apple up into the air. The zucchini followed, and then the pear, then the apple again. It had been a long time since he
'd juggled, but apparently the skill hadn't gone rusty. "Maybe you can help me think of some," he added.

  Someone giggled. Jack tried varying the pattern a little; someone giggled again. He stole a glance away from the flying fruit, wondering what he was doing that was so funny.

  The audience wasn't looking at him. They were looking behind him.

  And all the children were giggling now.

  Carefully, keeping his eyes mostly on his juggling, Jack threw a quick glance to each side. Preenoffneoff was nowhere to be seen. Could he be coming up behind Jack? With a serving knife from the table, maybe?

  A drop of sweat trickled down his back. He hadn't been invited here, after all. He'd crashed this ceremony, and there were plenty of species in the Orion Arm who would consider that a good enough reason to cut such an intruder into fish food. Some of those species might even laugh and applaud and giggle while it was being done.

  Did the Wistawki think that way? He didn't have the foggiest idea. More to the point, did Preenoffneoff think that way? He didn't know that, either.

  All he knew was that the giggling was getting louder, and that the adults were smiling, too. Keeping the fruit in the air, wondering how fast he could go for his tangler if he had to, he turned his head quickly to the right.

  It wasn't far enough to see what was behind him. But it was far enough to spot Preenoffneoff standing by the balcony door. He wasn't moving toward Jack, and there was certainly no knife or other weapon in his hand. And like the other adults, he was smiling.

  Jack focused back on his juggling, thoroughly confused now. Could there be another Wistawk back there? The drunk from the balcony, maybe? Probably not.

  Then how about a Wistawk sneaking up on him from the left?

  That was possible. Again, Jack twisted his head quickly to the side, this time to his left.

  Again, it wasn't far enough to see directly behind him. But again, there was no threat anywhere that direction that he could see.

  So what were they all giggling at?

  He'd tried to play it subtle; but there was nothing for it now but to go obvious. Slowly, still keeping the fruit circling through the air in front of him, he turned around.