Page 7 of The Lost Child

I knew that look. Whatever he was talking about, it was serious. My eyebrows rose on my forehead against my will. “What weapon?” I asked before I could stop myself. My father bought many weapons, and stole even more. He’d been trying to get a royal gunner from one of the continent kingdoms for years now.

Father’s boots hit the wood as he leaned forward, considering. Gold and silver clinked together as he folded his hands, massive rings he’d stolen from countless raids over the years.

His eyes narrowed. “Perhaps it’s for the best. Once you see, you will realize why you’re not needed, and why I keep my company small and still am the most feared pirate lord on these waters. Let’s go.”

Three

Well, he certainly didn’t need to tell me twice. I kept a respectful distance as he crossed the office and strode out into the hall, quickly leading me down below the ships, into one of the caverns carved into the island centuries ago by the ocean itself.

As a child I’d been forbidden to ever come down here, and even now, I hadn’t dared to explore. The men who were captured on raids sometimes tried to escape through here, thinking the cavern would eventually lead them to the open skies and waters.

They were dead wrong.

My father turned, pausing as darkness surrounded him like a cloak. This was the last ship before the stone walls of the cave would swallow us. “There’s a safe way, but only me’n my mates know it. It’s not for everyone to know.”

He glared at me.

My heart flipped, and suddenly I was eleven years old again, thirsty for even a drop of his attention. And now he was sharing company secrets with me?

I tried to control my racing heart, but it was half of a dream coming true. He was confiding in me. Trusting me.

“O-of course,” I stammered back, trying to sound mildly offended, but mostly coming off as pathetically grateful. I’d need to work on that.

He grunted. “You’re a damn good fighter, girl, but no matter how hard you work, you’ll never be the best,” he continued. He took the first left in the tunnel, another left, then the last left. “Three lefts in a row. That’s how you know you’re dealing with the devil.” He chuckled to himself.

Stupid, superstitious pirates. I didn’t believe in any of it.

“Get out yer light. The torch is here,” he muttered, hands lightly skimming the stone walls.

The small pouch with flint and iron inside never left me, and I held one stone in each hand. It was pitch black, so I reached out and felt the bundle of woven sticks and hay my father thrust toward me. It only took three strikes before a suitable spark caught fire, and my father’s face appeared, bathed in an orange glow. A large iron door with bars was only a few paces before us.

“You have to light the torch first, y’see? It’s how ‘ee knows there’s company. Otherwise, he’ll kill you with his bare hands first, and ask questions later. Well, not exactly. The big brute doesn’t talk much.”

I had no idea what he was talking about until he practically shoved me at the iron bars, and something slammed back at me from the other side. I just barely managed to keep from flinching back or falling to the ground in surprise. Barely.

“Say ‘ello, Nerissa.” My father chuckled, a dark gleam in his eyes. He held the torch up to the bars, giving me a full view of what lay beyond.

The shape growled and backed away from me. It was a man. Well, sort of. The largest man I’d ever seen, dwarfing my father by at least two feet. His hands were as large as dinner plates and his arms as big as my thighs. Muscles bulged from his body, sharp and defined. Holy Gods! And his cell was just the end of the cave wall, closed in with iron bars that had been nailed and melted into the stone around the cave’s opening. A large door with a keyhole in the middle made it obvious how they moved him in and out.

No other comforts were to be found inside that I could see. There was no light except my torch. It smelled of rot and death down here, and his skin and hair looked as wild and dirty as an animal’s. This wasn’t right. He wasn’t a creature!

“What … who … ” I stammered out, confused at what I saw and struggling not to show fear and disgust. The man was moving, and odd lumps stuck out from his back. I blinked, convinced I was hallucinating. But no, there they were. He hadwings!

“Watch out for the—”

WHAM.

I dodged back as the creature lunged, massive hands with sharp claws snagging around the bars and gouging bits of metal from it. He missed my by a hair’s breath.

“Claws,” my father finished, chuckling. His hands came around my shoulders and squeezed in a mimicry of affection, but mostly served to hold me in place directly in front of him. The…creature kept his body pressed up against the bars as if to intimidate us. Bright green eyes glared at me from behind the iron.

I stared at the mess of mottled flesh and dark, nasty bruises. Wounds and cuts bled sluggishly even as he hissed defiantly at us. Was he hurt? Or was this normal?

“It’s called a draken, I’m told,” my father proudly stated. “Male, obviously. Stolen from cargo bay by one of my men after rumors said there were a few drifting around, prisoners of that Demon War over the mountains. Took us five raids before we found one. This one was bound for Tarta up north. Shame we couldn’t get the others with him. A female, I heard. Would have been nice to breed ‘em.”

Father’s eyes ran up and down the creature, considering. “Was a lot smaller then. More of a handful now.” He laughed as though he’d just shared the world’s wittiest joke.

It was hard to make out much of the draken in the dark, but I tried anyway, cataloging what I already knew. Large, muscled body. Vicious attitude. Wings and a torso that was dotted with silvery scales, shining under the torchlight when it got too close. The rest of his body faded into a darker color that blended into the shadows. I got a glimpse of iron around his neck, wrists, and ankles. The chains clinked threateningly as he moved about the cave. White spikes protruded from his spine. Were they bone?

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