Pillage

“There was some small writing on one of the last pages,” I said excitedly. “It talked about how the dragons could become weak—even die—if not allowed to pillage.”

  “How could that be?” Kate asked.

  “Their whole existence is one of greed,” I explained. “They don’t know anything else and their legacy is built on nothing but destroying things.”

  Mercury screeched.

  “They don’t look weak to me,” Kate said.

  “The strongest survive the longest,” I answered. “And according to the book, when they die, they disintegrate and just blow away.”

  “That will happen to Pip?” Kate asked.

  “Don’t,” I snapped. “Don’t call them by their name. They already know us too well, and yes, it will happen to her.”

  Pip was no longer the smallest dragon—she was monstrous.

  “I hope she remembers we were kind to her,” Kate said.

  I walked around the dragons, heading toward the burnt shack. None of the dragons looked up from eating their weeds. I was acting on faith, believing what the book had said about them not harming me if I acted correctly.

  We entered the shack and huddled close together. All three of us breathed a sigh of relief, pretending like the burned-out husk of a shack would actually be enough to save us if the dragons really wanted to harm us.

  “It should be in here somewhere,” I said. “The book said it’s hidden in this shack.”

  “What is it?” Milo asked. “What’s hidden?”

  “You’ll see.”

  The shack was beyond repair. The fire had destroyed the roof and scorched the walls. There was no place left to hide anything.

  I knelt down and ran my hand back behind the beams that held the wall up. The corner beam was rotting at the top and splitting down the middle. I put my hand on the cracked wood and pulled. A nice, long, wedge of wood came loose. It looked like a fat-ended wand. I gazed at it with a smile on my face. It was perfect.

  “I don’t believe it,” I said.

  “That’s it?” Milo asked.

  I nodded.

  “What is it?” Kate questioned. “A wand or something?”

  “I think so,” I answered. “The book said all I have to do is wave it around and say the right words and the dragons will be gone for good.”

  Kate glanced at Milo nervously. I stepped to one of the large holes in the wall where a window had once been. I looked out at the dragons. I lifted the wand and opened my mouth.

  “Stop,” Milo said.

  “What?” I asked.

  “If you get rid of them, won’t you lose the manor?”

  “I suppose,” I answered, lifting the wand higher. “But I can’t let them destroy the town.”

  “Why not?” Milo asked.

  I looked at Milo and thought of The Grim Knot. True I had woken the stones, but it was my heritage that had caused all this. If my great-great-great-great-grandfather Edward had simply served that magic-selling peddler some food, none of this would be happening. The pattern of my life did seem to point me in the direction of walking away and letting someone else deal with all this. But there was something changing in me. I could see things clearer now and I wanted to be on the right side of things so that when the dust settled I could live with myself. I didn’t care if Kingsplot and Callowbrow had been cruel. I couldn’t count on things being perfect, but I was determined to do what I thought was right, regardless.

  “It’s what’s right,” I answered.

  “You’ve changed,” Milo said.

  I’m not sure he meant it as a compliment, but I took it as one. I closed my eyes and lifted the wand. I opened my mouth, ready to speak.

  “Stop,” Kate insisted.

  I swiveled, opening my eyes and glaring at her.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Come on. Put it down, Beck,” she ordered.

  I stared at her with narrowed eyes.

  “Please,” she insisted.

  “I knew it,” I said angrily. “You’re with them.”

  “What?”

  “Do you think I don’t know?” I argued. “Pretty convenient of you, coming back on the train the same time I was. Or how about how enthusiastic you always were to go into dragon’s lairs or strange tunnels—or making me plant those rocks. I love to think it was my charming personality that made you want to come with us, but I know that’s not the deal.”

  “What?” Kate said defensively. “You’re crazy.”

  “Now you want me to let the dragons live so they can pillage the entire town. That was your plan all along, wasn’t it?”

  “My plan?” Kate looked hurt. “Go ahead,” she said. “Make them all disappear. I don’t care.”

  “Nice try.”

  “Seriously,” Kate said. “I don’t care.”

  I lifted the wand. Kate stood there with her arms folded and her lips tight.

  “They’ll all be gone,” I said. “Forever.”

  “Good,” she snipped.

  I opened my mouth as if to say the magic words and, like a frog’s tongue, Milo’s hand shot out and snatched the wand from my fist.

  I stared at him.

  “Sorry, Beck, but I can’t let you do that,” he said.

  “What?” I asked, confused.

  Milo smiled. “You were a little bit off, giving Kate credit for all the work I did.”

  “You? But . . .”

  “But what?” He smiled. “Milo would never do anything like that?”

  As he talked, his personality began exposing itself like a shirt coming untucked. Weird bits of him began to rise to the surface of his being. He was slowly becoming someone else.

  Kate stepped closer to me. I wanted to apologize for thinking she was devious and evil, but the moment felt wrong.

  “You were the one who said there was a basement,” I said reflectively to Milo.

  “I needed you to read that book. I even unlocked the door for you. Of course I wanted you to read it much sooner.”

  “You showed me where the conservatory was.”

  “Part of the plan,” he said, his nose becoming large and bulbous.

  “What’s happening to you?” Kate said, disgusted.

  Milo was no longer a funny-looking kid; he was now a long-haired, gray-skinned, troll-looking creature. Even his clothes were different. He wore a dark green robe and a leather pouch was slung across his right shoulder, crossing his chest and knotted under his left arm. He sighed as if he had just undone pants four sizes too small.

  “Those stones belonged to me,” he cackled. He was so repulsive it was hard to look at him. “I should never have let Bruno keep that cursed stone.”

  “You’re the peddler?”

  The old, ugly version of Milo looked proud. “You’re smarter than I gave you credit for. Edward Pillage betrayed me hundreds of years ago, serving me a stone for sustenance. I cursed him, but I never thought my curse would bring him wealth as well. His son, Bruno, made things even worse. They’ve all died horrible deaths and all their wives have gone crazy, but they got rich. I’ve simply come to get my share. I am a great magician. The world will see that now. I searched the world over trying to find where your family was hiding. I’d still be searching if not for luck.”

  “What about your parents and your home here?” I asked.

  “I have no parents,” he said. “I’ve been living in a hole by the river since I arrived here.”

  I wondered how he still managed to always have cleaner clothes than I did.

  “This is ridiculous,” Kate said. “I’m leaving.”

  “No, you’re not,” the peddler insisted, pulling a long knife from his pouch.

  “The eggs are gone,” Kate reasoned. “It’s over.”

  “Yes, it’s unfortunate you woke them all,” he complained. “Still the spoils the dragons will bring back before they die will be great. And it is not out of the question that they could leave behind another stone.”

  “Let Kate go,” I said. “I
t’s me you need.”

  Milo smiled; I hadn’t remembered him having so few teeth.

  “Sorry, Beck,” he said, “but I want to be rich. I’ll keep both this wand and Kate close at hand.”

  “It’s not a magic wand,” I admitted with a wide grin. “It’s just a piece of wood. I knew there was no way Kate—I mean you—would let me destroy the dragons if you were who I thought you were.”

  “Nice work, Nancy Drew,” Kate said, shaking her head.

  “Plus, you don’t know how to manage the dragons,” I said to the peddler.

  “Once the dragons are flying it won’t matter,” he said.

  “You’re willing to destroy Kingsplot?” I asked.

  “Kingsplot is only the beginning.”

  “I don’t get it,” I said angrily. “Why me?”

  “I had to have you,” Milo said. “The stones are nothing

  until your family’s gift of growth helps wake them. Aeron was impossible to persuade. He’s useless. And since the gift is only passed from father to son . . .”

  “What?” I asked, confused.

  “Your uncle hasn’t told you?” Milo smiled. “How nice. Well, Francine wasn’t really your mother, she was your aunt. So Aeron isn’t your uncle, he’s your . . .”

  “Father,” Kate finished for him.

  I turned to look at Kate. I didn’t know how to feel. I wanted to throw up and celebrate at the same time. Unfortunately before I could choose which one to do, I heard Milo shout a string of words in another language. The words seemed to hit the back of my head with the force of a thrown brick. My vision blurred, then blackened.

  Then there was nothing but darkness.

  Chapter 21

  Panic

  “Wake up, Beck. Wake up.”

  My ears were working, but my eyes were not yet willing to let in any light.

  “Wake up.”

  I could feel someone slapping me softly on the cheeks. I recognized Aeron’s voice, but I still couldn’t convince my eyes to open. I wondered how I had gotten into the dome room on top of the manor. The last thing I remembered was talking to Kate and a creepy old version of Milo in the conservatory.

  “You must wake up,” Aeron said.

  I pushed my eyelids open.

  Aeron looked relieved. I glanced around, realizing that I wasn’t in the dome room like I had imagined. I was still in the conservatory. And Aeron was with me. I couldn’t believe it—he had left his room to help me.

  I was sitting against a wall inside the shack with a loose rope tied around me. All of the dragons were gone, and the mist had evaporated, giving me a clear view of the sky and mountaintops through the missing roof.

  “You’re not my uncle,” I said hoarsely.

  “I know, son,” Aeron said softly.

  The sensation of having someone call me son in a non-sarcastic way was so weird. It felt as if I finally had found a warm bed or socks that fit properly. I closed my eyes and repeated the word to myself. I opened my eyes back up.

  “Why?” I asked. “Why did you leave me?”

  “It had to be,” Aeron said. “Your mother died giving birth to you. Her greatest fear was that you would become like your ancestors. We had to break the chain. My sister, Francine, wanted to help. I couldn’t leave the manor because I needed to make sure the problem died with me. It’s a sickness within us. I didn’t trust myself to get rid of the stones, so I stayed at the top of the manor, never going near them or the conservatory.”

  “And Francine?”

  “Francine was in love with Simon Squall, but she knew you had to leave Kingsplot. When Francine told Simon our story, he thought she had gone crazy and wanted no part of it or her. We have all made sacrifices to right what our family has done. You were never supposed to return.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said weakly.

  “I’m sorry, too,” Aeron said. “But not that you have returned.”

  I was more happy than angry. My life had always seemed so uncomfortable. I had been so focused on the hardship and confusion that I had rarely taken the time to think about good things ever happening to me. I was overcome with the emotion of wanting a father and amazed by the possibility of actually having found mine all at once.

  “Are you okay?” Aeron asked.

  “I think I’m better than that, but where are the dragons?” I asked, trying to think straight.

  “Milo sent them out.”

  “How?” I asked.

  “He took your shape to fool the dragons. It’s a dangerous spot to be in. You have cared for the dragons personally and they know you by sight now. He chopped the nests and the dragons, believing it was you, flew away.”

  “But it’s daytime. People will see where they’re coming from.”

  “Milo’s so blinded by revenge and greed that he can’t think clearly. He’s not so different than I was, watching the sky when I should have leveled my gaze. When the dragons flew past the dome, I could see the large white one looking at me and recognizing the Pillage features. That’s when I knew I needed to do something.”

  “We have to stop them,” I said needlessly.

  “This will do it.” Aeron held up his black staff with the strange markings.

  “A stick will stop them?”

  “It will if it’s shoved through their throat,” he said, sounding like a physics teacher simply dealing out facts. “When this staff pierces their throat, it steals their breath. My father, Morgan, created it, but he was too slow to use it before the dragon he woke killed him. It should kill all of them now—all but the last one.”

  “Why?”

  “The last dragon instinctively excretes a sweat that dries its throat hard as rock.”

  “So how do we kill it?” I asked.

  “The dragon will die after it has feasted on . . .”

  “Feasted on what?”

  “One of us,” Aeron said sadly. “It’s the curse. No Pillage can actually enjoy the spoils of what the dragons bring. Our greed is ultimately for naught. It was the fate of your ancestors Daniel and Morgan. They couldn’t resist waking at least one stone within their lifetime. They had to know what it was like and lusted for the experience. When they did wake a stone, the dragon grew, consumed them, and died. Before the last one from this batch dies, it will have to consume one of us or else it will never rest in peace.”

  “The book didn’t say that,” I said.

  “The Grim Knot isn’t a complete history,” Aeron said. “The dragons kill the men and the women go insane.”

  “Nice family,” Kate said, crawling out of the hole.

  I was so startled and happy to see her that I might have accidentally giggled even though the moment was so heavy.

  “You were down there?” I asked.

  “After Milo knocked you out, he tied you up,” Kate said. “When he wasn’t looking, I pulled open the grate and jumped down the hole. He never came after me. I’ve been waiting down there trying to get the courage to see if it was safe.”

  “Do you know where Milo went?” Aeron interrupted Kate.

  Before Kate could answer, a screeching noise ripped through the air. I looked up, covering my ears. Through the torn roof, I could see a dark silhouette of a dragon flying through the clouds.

  The sight was magnificent.

  The three of us left the shack, drawn by the sight of the flying dragon.

  “Should we run?” I asked Aeron nervously.

  I was certain he was about to say something, but Rydon descending into the conservatory captured our attention. His mouth was filled with a crushed pink bicycle, and in his talons there was a blue mailbox and part of a telephone pole.

  We were all thinking it; I was simply the first to say it. “That’s the treasure they bring back?”

  “Seriously,” Kate added, “that’s just junk.”

  “I guess times have changed,” Aeron said, equally confused. “Not many people deal in gold bricks and silver these days. In the old days, even wood was valuable
.”

  Rydon dropped everything he had and flapped his wings triumphantly. He clawed at the ground as if anxious to fly again.

  “Shouldn’t you stop him?” I yelled. “Use the staff!”

  “Not yet, I need him,” Aeron hollered back. “We’ve got to get to Kingsplot and stop the other dragons before they do even more damage. I’ve been waiting for this day for twenty years. I’m glad you’re here with me.”

  The next few moments felt like I was watching a movie really close up. Aeron ran from the side of the shack and circled back around behind Rydon. He moved closer, avoiding the dragon’s tail, and leapt onto his back, pulling himself up by grabbing at the hair on the back of Rydon’s neck.

  I thought Rydon would shake him off, but the dragon looked almost proud. His wide, orange mouth opened and he roared, spitting fire above the conservatory walls.

  “I’ve never seen any of them do that,” Kate said, frightened.

  Rydon sprang up and flew out of the conservatory, heading in the direction of Hagen Valley. I could see Aeron’s form on the back of the beast. Rydon passed a returning dragon in the air—Ishmael. He hovered over the conservatory and then lowered himself, slowly flapping his massive wings. Dirt blew up into my eyes and nose.

  Ishmael had a door in his mouth and railroad tracks in his talons. He set his spoils down and danced around proudly. He screamed and blew fire high into the air.

  “Stay here,” I yelled to Kate, trying to be heard above Ishmael’s roar. “I’m going to help Aeron.”

  “What should I do?” Kate asked.

  Ishmael was rocking back and forth. I could see his knees bend and his wings flex. It was now or never. I left Kate’s question hanging and ran up behind Ishmael. I tried to jump onto his back like Aeron had done, but I wasn’t quite as graceful as my father had been. Still, I managed to get on and wrap my arms around Ishmael’s neck. I could feel his wings flapping on either side of me. My hands pushed into his scales as if he were made of clay.

  Ishmael blew fire and burst up into the sky. It was hard to hold on. I wanted to wave at Kate, but I was too scared of falling. The dragon twisted up like a corkscrew and then leveled out. I tangled my hands into the hair on his back as tightly as possible, scared for my life. My feet kept slipping off his white, scaly skin, and each beat of his wings tossed me up and down against his furry spine.