Chapter 15

THE SKY WAS getting lighter, Alys was certain. If they'd been back at Saint Toby's with its open view, she'd have seen pink and orange streaks creeping up from the horizon. Instead, she and Gower were surrounded by trees that were steadily becoming more distinct, and by glimpses of sky shading from black to gray. Before, while she'd been hurrying in the opposite direction, she'd played a mental game with herself, saying, "If I get to here before the sky starts to lighten, then I'll be able to reach Selendrile in time." She'd said it just beyond the edge of the clearing where she'd left him, giving herself ample time to struggle with getting the shackle off. She'd said it further and further out, having to assume the shackle would be easier and easier to remove. She'd said it the last time at a point where she'd have had to run faster than she'd ever run before and where the shackle would have to drop off at a touch.

But now she and Gower had not even reached that point yet, and as the sky paled she was faced with the certain knowledge that there was no way she could reach Selendrile in time.

"It's not fair!" she cried out, and Gower gave her a wary look. It wasn't fair if Selendrile died from helping her. "Hurry up!" she told Gower, though they were both panting already.

He stopped to shift the torch to his left hand.

"Hurry up!" she came back to tell him.

He caught hold of her arm. "Why the rush?" he demanded.

"Not now." She tried to shake him loose, but he'd been put off and ordered around long enough.

"Why the rush?"

"Let go of me!" She was being foolish, she knew it but couldn't help herself. Gower wasn't preventing her from getting to Selendrile in time—there was no time. And yet to stand here bickering with the wheelwright while Selendrile died alone ... as he had been afraid he would.... As—

The realization struck her that he would have no way of knowing that she had even tried. For all he knew, she may have never intended to return. Could he think that of her? Yes, he could, for, really, that would have been the most sensible thing for her to do, it would have been a dragon thing to do, and she remembered the expression on his face. "Selendrile!" she shouted with all her might, still trying to pull free of Gower. "I'm coming!" The important thing was not to convince him that she'd reach him in time; the important thing was to let him know she was coming back for him.

But it was hopeless in either case. Her voice could no more travel those extra miles to the clearing than she could.

"Girl..." Gower shook her.

With her free hand, she slapped him.

Looking more startled than hurt, he loosened his grip just as she once more tugged, and she tumbled into the weeds by the side of the path. This was the fourth time this night that she'd found herself sprawled on the ground. There wasn't time to scramble to her feet and elude Gower, who was even now coming toward her; the best she could do was to once again yell Selendrile's name from where she lay, flat on her back.

Just as she opened her mouth, she heard, faintly: "Alys."

It was impossible. There was no way Selendrile could yell loud enough from the clearing that she could hear him here. Only her imagination told her otherwise.

But Gower had paused midstride, his head cocked, listening.

"Alys," Selendrile's voice called again, fainter, but this time she was waiting for it.

And suddenly Alys knew: Of course he hadn't followed her instructions—he never followed her instructions. Instead of staying in the clearing searching for the key, he had started to come after her.

She jumped to her feet and began running down the path, Gower right behind.

She found Selendrile sprawled in the middle of the road, moments away from where she had given up. Without pausing to think, she threw her arms around him and gave him a hug, simultaneously trying to get him to sit up so that Gower could more easily get to the shackle.

He seemed barely conscious and sagged heavily against her. "There's not enough time," he murmured weakly.

"Everything's all right," she said. "Gower's here to help."

That got his eyes open. She felt the muscles in his back and shoulders tighten.

Gower remained out of arm's reach, watching everything suspiciously. His torch cast flickering shadows onto their upturned faces.

There wasn't time to explain it all. Above, the sky was getting pink, and in the forest around them songbirds roused themselves to greet the dawn. "Selendrile," she said, mindful of her promise, "it's all right. Gower and I have come to an agreement. He's a partner now."

"Gower?" He spat out the name.

She gave his shoulder a rough shove. "Enough! I told him I wouldn't let you hurt him."

His expression shifted to something she couldn't recognize, his dragon look. But then he said again, "There isn't enough time."

Gower must have taken that as agreement, for he handed Alys the torch and pulled the file from his belt. "This is not as you led me to believe," he grumbled. "He was supposed to be fastened to the stake."

"Just hurry up," Alys said. She lifted Selendrile's right arm and saw that the wrist and hand were bleeding and swollen. Despite her queasiness at the open wounds, she tightened her hug around his shoulders to reassure him. Selendrile shook his head, but she had no idea what he was trying to tell her.

Gower raised his eyebrows when he saw the arm, but wordlessly set file against shackle.

Selendrile flinched at the touch of the metal, sucking in his breath with a hiss.

Of course it had to be iron to cut through iron, but she hadn't thought of it.

Gower looked up, but only said, "Hold the torch steady." He pressed down hard and began moving the file back and forth in a sawing motion.

Alys listened for the snap of metal separating, but there wasn't one. The file put a small dent into the edge of the iron band, nothing more.

Selendrile pulled away from her. "This isn't going to work," he told her, his breathing strained and unsteady. "There isn't time. Don't touch me. You're too close."

"What's going on?" Gower demanded, sitting back on his heels.

"Just cut the shackle." Alys tightened her hold on Selendrile.

After a moment's hesitation, in which Alys watched the sky take on a whole new hue of pink, Gower once again placed the file against the iron band. Alys saw the cords on his neck stand out with the strain, and it seemed his teeth must crack he had them set so tight; but after a massive effort, the file hadn't cut quite halfway through.

Selendrile had his eyes closed as he fought a wave of pain.

Gower flexed his fingers and wiped his hands on his tunic, then once again gripped the file's handle. Grunting with concentration, he cut farther into the iron.

This time Alys thought he was going to make it. But not quite. He stopped just short of severing the band. "Damnation," he muttered, blowing on the palms of his hands.

Before Gower could take up the file again, Selendrile moaned and doubled over.

Alys cast a quick glance at the sky, which showed a hint of blue amidst the pink. She tried to get him to straighten, but he pushed her away. "No time," he gasped.

Gower was suddenly standing up, backing away. He held his hands out, indicating he'd had enough. "That's it," he said. "I'm not getting any closer."

Alys dropped the torch, which wasn't helping anymore anyway, and snatched up the file. There was just a sliver holding the band together. Surely she could manage that. Selendrile was fighting her, and it was only the fact that he was so weak that allowed her to take his hand and saw the file back and forth on the damaged shackle. She closed her eyes against the strain of pressing, pressing, pressing.

Selendrile jerked his arm back at the same instant the band snapped, at the same instant the first ray of the sun fell on her face, at the same instant something slammed into her and threw her, yet again, to the ground.

She opened her eyes to see bits of cloth falling through the air, settling to the ground. Oh no, she thought, oh no. She closed her eyes quick.

But then she heard something.

An awful cry. Like a huge bird of prey.

Alys jerked her head up in time to see the dragon clear the top of the trees, sunlight glinting on its golden scales. Then with another fierce cry, it disappeared in the direction of the sun.

So much, she thought, for what he thought of her getting a new partner.

Gower made a quick sign of the cross. Then he stood, shading his eyes, staring into the sky. "Yes, well, and thanks to you, too," he shouted into the morning light.

But of course there was no answer.