They can also shape-shift into smaller creatures, as you’ve seen.
“True.”
I shook my head. I would let Willard know what had happened to this guy, but the children were why I’d been sent.
“Sindari?” I returned to the hole in the floor and pointed him toward it. “Can you tell if anyone is down there?”
He sniffed the air over the hole. That distant crying came again. No, not distant. Muffled. Maybe there was a door and another room down there.
“It may be another trap,” I admitted.
If he didn’t smell anyone, I would assume it was, that the dragon wanted to lure me down so it could later bite my head off.
I do detect other humans down there. Several of them. Stay here. I will look.
He disappeared into the darkness, dropping twenty feet and landing among the millstones without trouble. I dropped to my stomach and shined my light around below, hoping to spot a way to climb down—or climb back up, if I jumped down. Next time, I wouldn’t hop out of the Jeep without a rope.
The circular stone wall of the windmill extended all the way to the flagstone floor of the basement. The area down there wasn’t simply some pit that had been dug out after the initial construction. It actually looked like the original ground level of the mill and that the earth outside had been built up to cover it. Or maybe the windmill had been magically sunken into the ground. If so, to what end?
I pointed my flashlight beam toward the nearest basement wall. The mortar between the stones was crumbling or missing completely, leaving what I could turn into handholds for climbing. But the hole in the floor was more than ten feet from the nearest wall. There wouldn’t be a way to get over to it without suction cups.
“Or making a new hole,” I muttered.
A gouging noise floated up from below.
“I hope that’s you, Sindari.”
A loud thud followed.
“I definitely hope that’s you. Please let me know if ogres live down there.”
I am attempting to break down a solid oak door with an enchantment locking it. I may need you and your charm.
“I don’t suppose I can toss it down and you can use it without me?” I eyed the exit, worried about the dragon returning while I was down in the basement.
I do not believe I can use your charms. Also, when you used it on the doorway above, you did something beyond the intrinsic power of that charm. I sensed it.
“Any idea what it was?”
You did it. Do you not know?
“I know less than you’d think.” I located Sindari with the flashlight beam and saw the door. The muffled crying came again, and it came from that direction. That made up my mind. “I’m coming down.”
But not without creating a way out. I trotted to the wall, pocketed my phone, and, apologizing to Chopper for using it as a crowbar, slid the blade between the board and the stone. A mundane sword would have snapped off at the hilt. Fortunately, Chopper was no mundane sword. I’d won the blade in a battle years ago and didn’t know its history—Zav had hinted that it had powers I didn’t know about—but I did know it was far stronger than a slender piece of metal should have been.
It glowed a faint blue when it was out of its scabbard, but today, its glow was fainter than usual. Maybe it was indignant to be put to this use instead of going into battle.
“Next time,” I promised the blade.
A board shifted, nails wrenching free from their beds, and I flicked it away. As old as the windmill was, the floorboards were thick and solid, and I couldn’t pull up the rest with my hands. I had to keep using the sword as a crowbar. Aware of the seconds passing, I forced myself to be careful and methodical—and not cut my leg off.
Another thud came from below. Sindari trying to knock down the door.
“Don’t hurt yourself. I’ll be down as soon as this hole is wide enough.”
There isn’t much time. He sounded certain.
“What does that mean?” I snapped another board free. A bead of sweat ran down the side of my face.
I sense the dragon approaching.
I swore. “How far away?”
The dragon wasn’t within range of my senses yet, but Sindari’s range was greater than mine.
Three miles, maybe four. He’s flying this way.
I swore again and pried another board free. It clattered loudly as it landed. How well could dragons hear?
“Is someone out there?” For the first time, words reached my ears, as muffled as the crying had been and barely audible.
Sindari threw himself at the door again.
The hole was wide enough. I sheathed Chopper and scrambled down, willing my night-vision charm to activate, then wincing because there was still too much light filtering down from above, and it created a weird flare effect—and an instant headache.
Squinting, I clambered across the millstones to the opposite side of the basement. It grew darker as I moved away from the holes in the floor.
Directly under the ground-level entrance above, there was a short tunnel littered with pieces of stone that had fallen over the years. Sindari shifted aside, and I rushed forward, placing a hand on the oak door. The hinges were rusty but thick, and the wood was as solid as he’d promised. The zing of magic against my palm warned me of the enchantment sealing it.
“I’m here,” I called. “We’re getting you out.”
“Please, please, help us,” came the return call, a girl’s voice.
I prayed the kids truly were alive in there and that some magic wasn’t talking to me while beheaded children lay scattered among the upper levels of the windmill.
Two miles away, Sindari warned.
I closed my eyes and concentrated, willing the charm to unlock the door.
The enchantment broke, and the magical zing of electricity winked out. There wasn’t a latch or knob, so all I could do was stick my finger in an empty knot and tug, hoping that was enough. The door glided soundlessly outward.
Four dirty, gaunt faces peered at me, and the scent of urine and feces wafted out. The children—two boys and two girls—must have been locked in there for days. Their lips were cracked—hadn’t they even been given water?
“We have to hurry.” I waved them out. “And you have to climb.”
There’s not going to be time. Sindari had moved to the hole and peered upward. Unless you want me to distract another dragon. There’s no cliff to leap off this time.
He could turn this whole place into a bonfire while we’re in the basement. I helped the children out, wincing at how slowly they moved, their bodies stiff after being locked up for so long. The youngest girl paused to wrap her arms around my waist. It was touching, but all I could think about was that we didn’t have time. Later, there could be hugs.
My senses lit up as the dragon flew into my range.
A mile? I asked Sindari.
Yes. He’ll be here in seconds. Sindari bunched his powerful leg muscles and sprang the twenty feet out of the hole, landing lightly on the floorboards above. Dust trickled down between them. I’ll run into the woods and try to buy you time.
Thank you. Make sure to dismiss yourself before he can hurt you.
I will. You make sure to irritate him enough that he doesn’t follow me back to my realm. His tone was dry, but also concerned. Unlike most magical beings, dragons could instantly make temporary portals to the other realms.