dragon.”
The boy jerked his hand away.
“Like the ones in the barns?”
“Barns?” Nath said. His heart jumped a little. He looked at the young woman. “What barns? What dragons?”
She drew her son back into her arms and stepped backward.
Nath felt her fear. Terror. His eyes searched the room. A small lantern glowed dimly on a corner table. There were cupboards, a sofa, and a few wooden chairs. Blankets were spread over a decent-sized bed. He turned his gaze to the woman.
“Where’s your husband?”
She didn’t say anything, but the boy did.
“They killed him.”
The young woman covered her son’s mouth and shushed him. Nath took a moment to get a better look at both of them. The young woman had a pretty face and long brown hair that hid a dark mark around her eye. Her lips were cracked, either from the heat or from being smacked. The boy she held had lash marks on his bony arms. The clothes they wore, once colorful, were now dirty and tattered.
Nath kneeled down.
“Who killed them, the Overseers or the dragons?”
“You should go,” the woman said. “Just leave us alone.”
Nath shook his head. So many towns. So many cities had fallen to the lash of their oppressors. Armies, battalions, legions invaded. They ravaged, pillaged, and took over. The wells of life ran full of despair in small places such as this. Nath’s blood ran hot.
“I’ll go,” Nath agreed, “as soon as you tell me what I want to know. Who did this? Who’s in charge? What dragons and where are they?”
The little boy looked up at his mother and said, “Tell him, Mommy. Tell him.”
She shook her head. Closed her eyes. “Just go. Please!” She whispered.
“I can rid you of this menace,” Nath said.
“You are just one man.”
“Oh,” he said, shaking his head. He extended his clawed hands. “I’m no man, and I’m not alone either.”
“The Overseer, a large sluggard of a man, killed my husband. He threw a spear into his back after my husband had words with him.” Tears streamed down her check. “He murdered him right before my eyes. Right before my son. No child should see that. None.” She sobbed. “I’ll never forget that look in my husband’s eyes when he fell.”
The boy turned around and hugged his mother. “It’s alright, Mommy. Don’t cry anymore.”
Looking at Nath, she said, “I don’t want to see anyone die anymore. Nor my son either.”
“Where is this sluggard? This Overseer?”
“They stay in the main assembly near the middle of town,” the boy said. “If you listen, you’ll hear their coarse songs and laughter.” He slipped from his mother and headed for the window. “They say the strangest and ugliest words. And I’ve heard ravens carry a better tune.” He looked at Nath. “Some people just shouldn’t be singing. Or speaking.”
“And these dragons? Tell me about them. Are they big like a horse or small like a dog?”
The Overseers didn’t concern Nath so much as the dragons. It was no wonder there weren’t so many soldiers keeping the city under wraps if they had dragons keeping a terrifying eye on things. Of course, that was assuming that the dragons were indeed dragons and not something else. If they were indeed dragons, then who controlled them? It couldn’t just be a handful of common soldiers.
“They stay in the barns outside of town facing the mountains. They have six legs and tiny wings. Dark purple and black-tailed.” The boy shivered. “They scare me.”
“Are you certain?” Nath said.
The boy nodded.
Nath reached behind his back. No Akron. No Fang. Ben had Akron. Nath and Fang hadn’t been getting along, so he had sheathed his sword and set it aside. It troubled him that Fang didn’t feel comfortable in his clawed hand anymore.
“How many?” he asked.
Squawk!
The boy’s eyes popped open. He dashed into his mother’s arms.
There was a dragon out there alright. Not all dragons were quiet. They had to communicate, and many used bird