Chapter 18
We’ve found the chemicals. Someone has hidden them inside a large vat at the rear of this factory. They disguised it with another substance layered on top of it, but the tap near the bottom had leaked. There’s a small pile on the floor.
Ardon waited for the other dragons to react as Oldrik focused on how to stop the dribbling substance. Finally, the blue dragon signaled Ardon to move away from any possible smoke he might unleash. From a safe distance, Oldrik sent small blasts of fire to deal with the spillage and seal the metal spigot permanently without damaging the storage container.
The heavy thunderstorm worked against him, trying to put out the bursts of flame. Finally, after cautious experimentation, Oldrik succeeded.
Ardon! We’re on our way. Drake’s voice whispered into their minds.
What was going on? Something was dampening their communication.
I don’t like this, Oldrik. Before they get here, let’s poke around. Ardon shifted into human form so he could go inside the seemingly abandoned building.
Wait! I can smell it in the doorway. It’s the same chemical. Don’t open the door. Oldrik’s voice boomed through their connection. It’s a trap. Maybe we should retreat to wait for the others.
Skye? Can you hear us? Ardon sent their mate a message after retreating from the rigged entrance. When she didn’t answer, alarm bells rang in his mind. She was normally chatty with her mental thoughts. Ardon realized they hadn’t heard from her for a couple of hours. She might have taken a nap, but Skye never slept this long.
Ardon shifted back into the bronze dragon. He would prefer to meet any threat with his flame, scales, and talons to protect himself. Meeting Oldrik’s blue gaze, he knew the other dragon was as worried as he was—not about the chemicals. They’d deal with those easily.
Without hesitating a second more, Ardon launched himself into the air. Oldrik joined him as he headed back to the mansion. He needed to make sure Skye was safe.
Drake, we have devices here at the entrance. I wanted to warn you before I leave. I’m concerned about our mate. I’m going to check on Skye, Ardon informed him.
Go. We’ll take care of things here. Be on guard. Whoever is organizing this is setting traps. I’m sending Keres and Rogan to your lands.
My mansion, Oldrik clarified to make sure they knew where to go.
They’re on their way.
Tense minutes passed as the two dragons pushed their wings to the limit as they sped back. As they topped the edge of the mountains surrounding Wyvern, Oldrik blasted another message to Skye. When Ardon winced at the strength of his booming tone through their connection, Oldrik was confident Skye must’ve received it.
No response returned to them.
She couldn’t have missed that, Ardon stated.
The dragons hoped something was preventing her from answering or receiving the message. The only other alternative was she’d been drugged or knocked unconscious. They did not wish to consider that possibility.
Rogan and Keres already circled over the mansion when they arrived. Oldrik scanned the faces of his staff as they shielded their eyes to stare up at the display of four dragons wheeling overhead. The pelting rain had soaked through their clothing. Someone he expected to see was missing.
Where’s Tierney? Ardon asked.
I can’t spot him either. Oldrik tried not to jump to the conclusion that his absence was a bad omen. Had he been taken also, or was he the abductor? He couldn’t believe his trusted manager would be capable of that but would suspend his disbelief to locate his Little.
Ardon, I will land and ask the staff to comb through the grounds for Skye while we search from above.
After sending a message to Rogan and Keres to explain the plan, Oldrik landed on the front lawn. Scanning the area, he waved off anyone who approached where he’d last seen Skye. The thunderstorm made it difficult to pick up any clues, but he could see some grooves in the grass. Were those the marks of heels drug across the lawn? He could definitely spot deep boot prints.
He followed the trail to a set of wagon wheels and horse tracks sunken into the mud. That must have been there recently. At least since the storm had begun. The ruts were deep. That wagon had held a heavy load.
Circling around, he detected signs of a tussle on the far side. The vegetation was kicked up, and the large boot prints appeared here as well as shoe patterns without the treads. Oldrik inhaled deeply, trying to pick up a scent.
He shook his head and paced over to the front porch of the house, where his staff had retreated to get out of his way and avoid the deluge. Their faces were concerned and drawn. “What happened?”
“Everyone was in the back of the house, sir. We were creating a new garden for Tierney. He left to go check on a noise from the front of the house and never returned. We didn’t stop, figuring he’d moved on to work on another task,” Garrett, one of his gardeners, said.
“Who saw Tierney after that?” Oldrik demanded.
The crowd looked at each other and shook their heads. No one spoke.
“Was the wagon in the front yard one of ours?” Oldrik asked.
“I didn’t see a wagon, sir, but it couldn’t have been. Your wagons are all in the back fields to haul in the crops. They’ll go straight to the barn for processing,” Garrett answered.
“Search the house and grounds for Skye and Tierney. Be thorough and methodical. Light the signal fire if you find them,” Oldrik ordered.
“Yes, sir,” echoed through the crowd.
Oldrik ran to an open area where he could change. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Garrett dividing the group into two search parties. His staff wouldn’t leave any stone or pillow unturned. Oldrik turned his attention to the dragons who had forged ahead and shifted rapidly.
We’re searching for a wagon that’s heavy enough to struggle in the storm. It left my territory while we were chasing down the dust threat. Scan for deep tracks. I’m following the trail from here.
Staying as low to the ground as possible, Oldrik trailed the ruts in the ground. It was easy until he hit a place where several fresh grooves connected. One set cut into the earth the most and appeared to have stopped. Perhaps to allow the other wagon to cross first?
Landing, he tried to pick up a hint of his mate. Yes! Even through the rain, a tantalizing whiff gave him hope. Skye had been here. It was stronger in that direction. The wagon had headed that way. He turned to face down those tracks to prepare to launch back into the air when another trace grabbed his attention. How could she be on two wagons simultaneously?
Broadcasting his findings to Ardon, Keres, and Rogan, Oldrik cursed whoever had thought of using her scent to distract him. He lost valuable time, waiting for the others to arrive at his location. Frustration built up inside him. He could only hope the abductors’ focus would be solely on escaping, rather than harming Skye. Oldrik breathed a snort of relief in pinpointing Ardon on the horizon.
We’ll need to split up, Oldrik, to make sure one of us can care for our mate. Keres, will you come with me? Ardon requested as he came in for a landing.
That leaves us, Rogan, Oldrik told the red dragon. We’ll take these tracks.
Speeding off in different directions, Oldrik could feel Ardon’s concern. A movement ahead caught his attention. A wagon rattled along at its maximum speed. Two men sat in the front.
Oldrik bellowed his find to Ardon, signaling the bronze dragon that he’d tracked down one of their targets. The loud noise startled the men and the horses, causing the wagon to careen wildly. The driver slowed the wagon to get it under control.
As soon as he could, the driver pulled back further on the reins to stop the wagon completely. He held his arms up. The passenger followed his lead.
He’s got something in his hand. Rogan had spotted the small white bag as they landed.
From a distance, Oldrik used his blue-dragon ability to speak to creatures of all kinds. Remaining wary of the two men, he focused on the spooked horses and sent them calming thoughts. When they had settled down, he sent them a simple mental message. Are you well-tended?
The large roan stallion with a star on his head nodded and stomped one foot into the mud. Pictures and sensations formed in Oldrik’s mind: oats, hay, fresh water, the feel of a blanket in the warmth of a stable. These animals were glad to help their owners because, in return, they were treated well and loved.
Oldrik sent his thanks and received tosses of the horses’ manes in response.
The horses vouch for the goodness of their owners. Stay in dragon form until we’re sure they don’t have Skye, Oldrik ordered before shifting and stalking forward.
Oldrik could smell the faintest of scents from Skye. That aroma tested his ability to control his rage. He was a hair’s breadth away from rampaging. “You have my mate.”
The men shook their heads desperately as if they could sense how close the dragon shifter was to ending them. The driver rushed to assure him, “There’s no one on the wagon except for me and my brother-in-law. We’re heading home with some supplies to make life easier for the refugees who have joined us. Pillows, clothes, heck, there’s even some chocolate back there.”
“Something smells like my mate. She was taken this afternoon,” Oldrik told them coldly.
“You are welcome to search us, Sir Dragon. I have this to give you as a tribute.” The man extended the suspicious package Rogan had spotted.
“Where did you get that?” For some reason, he knew this man had no clue what he offered.
“This is our tribute to you. Toll to pay dragons. We were told you would let us safely by if we handed this to you,” the driver said, holding it out once again to Oldrik.
Debating whether to tell him the truth, Oldrik spoke bluntly. “That is a poison which will kill you if it comes into contact with your skin.”
“Poison?” The man hesitated for a split second before tossing it away. He wiped his fingers on his clothing as if trying to make sure he had gotten nothing on him.
“You will need soap and water. How did you get that tribute?” Oldrik pronounced the last word sarcastically.
“We met another wagon at a cross point. One of the men driving insisted we would need to supply this to any dragon that stopped us. Oh, and Eric saw him toss that into the back of our wagon.”
Eric held up a ragged piece of material. Oldrik recognized it immediately from the bright blue color as the T-shirt they’d dressed Skye in that morning. Anger flared inside him. He struggled to contain it. These men weren’t to blame. He paced forward and snatched it out of the man’s unresisting hand.
“I’m sorry. I just thought he was getting rid of trash, and I would incinerate it at home,” Eric tried to explain.
“My mate’s. That’s what her scent is coming from,” Oldrik guessed and held it up to his nose. Skye’s special aroma filled his nostrils. “Did you see her?”
“Two men drove the wagon. A large metal support extended over the bed of the wagon. We couldn’t see anything under it. I’m sorry. I would have helped her if I’d suspected anything,” the driver stated, shaking his head in disbelief. “She didn’t make a sound.”
Oldrik didn’t wonder why she hadn’t cried out for help. Skye wouldn’t have known if this other wagon held humans who were better than her captors. That, combined with her innate reluctance to speak aloud, would have kept her quiet.
He shook his head as he ran a safe distance away to shift into dragon form. In a flash, he was in the air and headed toward the other tracks. Skye had to be in that wagon.
A small whisper in his brain caught his attention. Focusing on that sound, Oldrik listened intently. It grew more distinct as he flew, and Oldrik finally made out one word.
Danger!
Ardon! I can hear Skye calling. It’s very faint. She’s in trouble. Be alert.
Pushing his strength to its maximum, Oldrik raced forward. He felt Ardon’s heartrate increase as well.
Skye! We’re coming! Hold on!