Dangerous? thought Ash. That wasn’t something she’d ever been called before. She felt surprisingly pleased by the description.

  Ash tore the poster off the wall and hurried back to where Tavan and Fen stood.

  “What’s that?” asked Fen.

  “It’s how we’re going to see the governor.” She handed Tavan the poster before Puppy chewed it. “You’re going to collect a reward.”

  Bound

  Two guards, dressed the same as wall soldiers, stood outside the Capitol gates. Ash’s nose itched as she approached them, but she couldn’t scratch it. Her hands were tied in front of her with Telltale, the rope.

  Tavan held the other end of the rope. He led Ash toward the Capitol gates while Fen walked behind and shoved her every now and then.

  “Sorry,” said Fen. “You sure you want me to push you?”

  “It has to look real,” muttered Ash. “Pretend you hate me. And don’t smile.”

  “Why not? Don’t mean people smile?”

  “Shh… You’re not supposed to talk to me.”

  “Don’t mean people talk?”

  Ash gritted her teeth and studied the Capitol buildings beyond the wrought iron fence. Several had missing shingles and broken balconies from recent illwen attacks. Ash had seen a few signs of illwen attacks in some of the frontier villages they’d passed on the way here, but this looked worse.

  “I’ve come to collect my reward,” declared Tavan. He held the poster up for the gate soldiers to see.

  “Why’s she tied up?” asked one soldier. “She’s just a little girl.”

  “That’s exactly what she wants you to think. It took six men to catch her, and I’m the only one still standing,” said Tavan.

  Ash narrowed her eyes, doing her best to appear dangerous.

  The soldier laughed. “Go tell your stories to the other beggars.”

  “Believe me, I wish it were a dratted story,” replied Tavan, sounding just like a plantation worker. “This little girl went batty-fang on a company of soldiers and helped a dao fora warrior escape. She’s a traitor and a witch. That’s why there’s a reward for her.”

  “You’re mad as hops. Now shove off,” ordered the older soldier.

  “Wait… I heard about that,” said the younger soldier. He seemed quieter than the other, but once he got talking he kept going in quick, nervous way. “One of my bunkmates knows a marksman who was there when it happened. He said the girl ordered a bear to rip his musket out of his hands. Then the girl, the bear, and the dao fora warrior flew over the village wall and escaped.”

  Ash glanced at Puppy who was busy sniffing stones. He paused mid-sniff. Am I the bear?

  Ash winked at him.

  “That’s ridiculous. No little girl ordered a bear about,” countered the older soldier.

  “The marksman saw it. So did others,” replied the younger soldier. “They said she’s an evil willer.”

  “You can’t tell me you believe that horse swill.”

  “Look, I don’t care what you believe,” interrupted Tavan. “I just want to get my reward and be on my way.” He tried to hand the end of Telltale to the younger soldier. “Are you gonna take her or not?”

  The soldier looked at the rope warily. Then he looked at Ash. She gave him a calm, wicked grin.

  “You… uh… need to speak with the watch officer,” said the younger soldier.

  “Where’s he?”

  “He won’t be here ‘til morning.”

  “Fine. I’ll leave her with you. I want to be as far from her as possible when night falls.” Tavan tried again to pass the soldier the rope.

  The younger soldier stepped back. “I’m not taking her. What if she puts a curse on me?”

  “Don’t be a coward,” said the older soldier.

  “I’m no coward. I just don’t want to take her. Why don’t you take her?”

  The older soldier grimaced. Tough as he tried to seem, he wouldn’t take the rope either. “Come with me. The commander’s assistant can sort this out.”

  The soldier led them through the gates and up several steps to a rectangular plaza that stretched before a long, white building. From the shape of the building, Ash figured this had to be the “I” part of the I.C. initials Tavan had mentioned.

  While the soldier talked with two guards at the entrance to the building, Ash surveyed the plaza. Because the Capitol stood on a hill, when she looked back she could see over much of the city. The brick buildings and houses oozed across the land like a broken egg. The further from the Capitol, the smaller and more run-down the structures appeared. Around the outer edges stood mostly rickety shacks, punctuated by smokestacks of various sizes. Beyond these stretched a patchwork of jujube fields.

  Far off in the distance, Ash noticed something else—a cluster of towers that reflected the light of the setting sun. The towers looked like polished white teeth jutting out of the earth. Several specks hovered around them, appearing small as flies.

  More airships.

  Ash glanced at the airship tied to the Capitol mooring mast. The airship shaded half the plaza. Gold letters on the side of the boxcar strapped to the belly of the airship spelled out Ocras Industries.

  If the four or five airships hovering around the white towers in the distance were the same size as this airship, then the towers must have been enormous—even bigger than the Capitol!

  “Is that where Lord Ocras lives?” asked Ash, keeping her voice low so the guards wouldn’t hear.

  Tavan followed her gaze to the white towers in the distance and nodded. “They call it the House of Ten Thousand Rooms.”

  The soldier returned a moment later. “The commander’s assistant says you’ll need to talk with the commander himself, and he’s in a meeting with the governor right now. You can wait here for him. Just don’t cause trouble.”

  He led them into a long hall and gestured to a bench where they could sit. Then he hurried out. Three other soldiers occupied the hall—one sat behind a desk, and two stood guard outside a door at the end of the hall.

  They waited for half an hour, but no one came out to talk with them. Muffled rumbles of voices leaked through the door at the end of the hallway. Ash figured that’s where the governor had to be. They were so close. If the governor left she’d miss her chance. She had to speak with him today.

  She fidgeted and glanced at Tavan. Fortunately, he shared her sense of urgency. He tied Telltale to the bench and approached the soldier at the desk.

  “Return to your seat,” said the soldier.

  “No, sir,” replied Tavan. “I’m owed a reward and I intend to collect it. Now where’s the commander? I demand to speak with him.”

  The desk soldier signaled to the door guards, and one came to deal with Tavan. Fen added to the ruckus by asking the desk soldier if his uniform was comfortable, and why they had to wear brown, and what the different patches and buttons stood for.

  While all the questioning and arguing was going on, Tavan glanced at Ash and winked. This was her chance.

  “Want to play a game?” she asked Puppy.

  Always! said Puppy. What’s the game?

  “Tug.”

  With what? Puppy cocked his head at her bound hands.

  “Boots,” said Ash. “See that soldier guarding the door over there? I bet you can’t tug his boots off his feet.”

  That’s easy! Puppy bolted toward the soldier standing guard outside the governor’s office. He bit the laces on one boot and tugged so hard the soldier’s feet flew out from under him. But Puppy didn’t stop there. He dragged the soldier halfway down the hall before the man’s boot finally slid off his foot.

  The soldier scrambled to his feet, stunned. He tried to grab his boot and Puppy dodged out of the way.

  “Get that dog!” shouted the soldier. He chased after Puppy, awkwardly running on one boot and one dirty sock.

  The other soldiers moved to grab Puppy.

  Chase! exclaimed Puppy. I love playing chase! He dodged the soldiers while carrying the boot in his mouth.

  With all three soldiers distracted, Ash slipped her hands out of Telltale and hurried to the door at the end the hall. She threw her shoulder against the wood and shoved open the door.

  Inside, a man and a woman sat before a large, polished desk. They both turned, startled by her entrance.

  “What’s the meaning of this?” barked the man. His thick mustache puffed up when he talked. Dozens of medals decorated the front of his brown uniform. “We gave orders not to be disturbed.”

  Ash yanked the door shut behind her, hoping the guards in the hall hadn’t heard mustache man’s complaints. “Are you Governor Castol?” she asked.

  It was clear from mustache man’s expression that he was not.

  “You’re not allowed in here,” said the woman sitting beside mustache man. She wore a gray uniform that matched her silvery hair.

  “I need to speak with Governor Castol.” Ash scanned the room. A young woman sat behind a desk off to the side. She appeared to be taking notes.

  Ash considered who the governor must be. Mustache man was probably the commander. At least he acted like a commander, giving orders and telling others what to do. And the silver-haired woman next to him had even more medals on her uniform. She could have been a general or an admiral, but Ash didn’t think she was Ivo Castol. So where was the governor?

  “The governor doesn’t meet with rude little girls who interrupt,” said the silver-haired woman.

  “Please. I came a long way to see him.”

  “Then make an appointment. We have work to do,” said the man. His mustache puffed out with each word. It reminded Ash of the wide, stiff broom her dad used to clear the porch after a dust storm.

  “I have to see Governor Castol today.”

  “Officer Jessup!” called mustache man.

  A soldier threw open the door behind Ash. His shirt was untucked, and he was missing one boot.

  “Escort this child out.”

  The soldier grabbed Ash’s shoulder and tugged her toward the door.

  Ash stomped on the soldier’s bare toes and squirmed free. “He’s here. I know he’s here. Why is he hiding from me?”

  “I’m not hiding,” replied a gruff voice. “I don’t hide from little girls.”

  Ash looked around, but she still didn’t see who was speaking. “Then where are you? I thought you were supposed to be a big important person, and big important people are easy to find. That’s why you put your house on top of a hill, isn’t it? So everyone will know where you are.”

  “I can’t argue with her logic.” The voice seemed to be coming from the far side of the desk.

  A short, stocky man stood and stretched his arms over his head. Ash wondered if he’d been sleeping behind the desk. He picked up a wide-brimmed hat—the sort of hat that farmers wore to keep the sun off their necks—and pressed it onto his messy-haired head. Then he slumped into the desk chair and thumped two dirty boots on the polished wood.

  “Just stretching my back,” he said with a sheepish grin. “You wouldn’t think that sitting at a desk all day would be harder on a man’s back than riding a horse, but it is.”

  “Mr. Castol?” asked Ash. This wasn’t at all how she’d expected the governor to look. His clothes were plain, his cheeks were scruffy, and there was something else about him that refused to come into focus. Ash didn’t know what to make of him.

  The man tipped his hat. “Call me Ivo. What can I do for you, young lady?”

  Ash drew herself up, recalling her father’s number one rule for negotiating: make sure the customer wants what you’re selling more than you want to sell it. “It’s not about what you can do for me,” she said. “It’s about what I can do for you. I came here to help you. Sir,” she added, remembering her manners.

  The governor raised his bushy eyebrows. “Take note, Commander. This is what it means to be bold. Let her be, Officer Jessup.”

  The soldier, who’d been standing right behind her with arms out, stepped back.

  “So, young lady, what are you going to do for me?”

  “I know how to stop the dao fora from attacking frontier villages.”

  “Oh?”

  “Sir, we need to get back to business,” interrupted mustache man.

  “Is that a fact, Commander Chandley?” Governor Castol slid his boots off the desk and leaned forward, causing both the commander and the silver-haired woman to sit up straighter. “Sounds to me like this is our business. You two haven’t found a way to stop those savages and their dratted monsters from attacking outposts. Heck, an illwen even attacked here two nights ago. Messed up my roof. So, if this young lady has a solution, I want to hear it.”

  Commander Chandley’s face reddened and the silver-haired woman looked down at her lap.

  “Go on, young lady,” said the governor. “Let’s see if you have better ideas than these two fopdoodles.”

  Ash swallowed. Her mouth had become painfully dry. She tried to look Governor Castol in the eyes, but her gaze drifted past him to the shelf behind his desk. Several fancy items decorated the shelf—a glass pitcher, silver trophies, brass plaques—but one thing caught her eye. It was a white crystal with a streak of green in it. Something about it appeared familiar.

  “Where’d you get that?” She pointed to the crystal.

  Governor Castol spun in his chair and picked up the green and white crystal. “This little doodad? This is one of a kind. It was a gift from Lord Ocras. He sent it to me in one of his personal airships. You’ve heard of Lord Ocras, right? I reckon he owns half your village, along with half of all the frontier villages. Most of those webworm plantations out there belong to him. The man’s a blasted hero. His patented crystal cloth is the only thing that actually works against illwen.” He shot Commander Chandley and the silver-haired woman a stern look. “I need a lot more of that stuff, but my accountants tell me it’s dratted expensive.”

  He held the crystal up before him and peered into its greenish center. “Fetching, isn’t it? Sometimes it almost seems to glow.” Governor Castol set the crystal back on the shelf. “Well, it’s been nice talking with you, but now I’ve got to get back to work.”

  “Talking with me? You hardly let me speak,” said Ash.

  Mustache man gasped. Ash kept going before they could kick her out. As quick as she could, she told the governor about how she’d met with one of the leaders of the dao fora and arranged a meeting outside her village to negotiate a peace treaty. While she talked, the governor grinned. It annoyed Ash that he didn’t appear to be taking her seriously, but this only made her state her case more forcefully.

  “If people stop burning the cloud forest, the dao fora will teach them to grow plenty of crops in the trees,” she finished. “It’ll be good for everyone.”

  The governor chuckled. “I like your gumption, young lady. You’re a real go-getter. I could use more people like you. But I can tell you right now your plan won’t work. Farmers are creatures of habit. I’m a farmer myself, and I can assure you that farmers like the crops they grow. Why would they want to grow new things?”

  “Because they can’t keep cutting down and burning the cloud forest,” said Ash. “The trees bring the rain, and without rain people won’t be able to grow anything.”

  Commander Chandley snorted. “Poppycock! There’ll always be rain. It’s got nothing to do with a few trees.”

  “It does,” said Ash. “I’ve seen it. The trees collect water from the clouds and send it to the ground. Where there aren’t enough trees, the ground gets hot and dry. Then the air becomes hot and dry too, which makes it harder for clouds to form and bring rain. Like here, and in my village—there’s a drought.”

  “Droughts come and go. There are plenty of rivers and streams for irrigation.”

  “The rivers and streams are drying out,” said Ash. She couldn’t understand why they weren’t more concerned about this. It was already happening. Crops were failing. Even in Governor City people were going hungry.

  “The rivers have run forever, and they’ll keep running,” argued Commander Chandley. “Cutting down a few trees won’t change anything,”

  “It already has changed things. You know it has. Why won’t you admit it?”

  “That’s quite enough!” snapped the silver-haired woman. “You had your chance to talk to the governor, now be on your way. We have work to do.”

  “Here you go, young lady.” Governor Castol slid a tray of cookies and fruit across his desk toward Ash. “Take a sweet for the road and tell your folks to vote for Ivo Castol.”

  Ash plucked a small red fruit off the tray, but she was too upset to eat it. They acted like it was all just an amusing story—as if she’d made up the dying forest and dried-up streams. Didn’t they see how amiss things were?

  The soldier by the door reached for Ash’s shoulder to guide her out. This time he kept his bare foot out of stomping range. Ash clenched her fists. Red juice from the fruit she’d taken leaked between her fingers. She opened her hand and looked at the crushed mess.

  It was a ruby fruit. She hadn’t recognized it before because the ones she’d been eating were much redder and plumper than this pitiful withered fruit, but now that she saw the seeds inside, she knew that’s what it had to be.

  “Wait! I brought something for you.” Ash dug into her leather pouch for the last of the ruby fruits that Suma had given her. Maybe seeing the fruit would convince them that the things she’d said were true.

  Commander Chandley straightened as she held out four plump, perfectly ripe ruby fruits. “Who did you steal those from?” he demanded.

  “No one. No one in Governor City has ruby fruits this good.”

  The governor leaned across the desk to investigate.

  “Taste them,” said Ash.

  The governor, commander, and the silver-haired woman all glanced at each other. No one moved to take a bite.

  “They won’t hurt you,” said Ash. She bit into one herself to show that they were safe. “They’re delicious.”

  The commander took a small bite of one, then greedily devoured the rest until his mustache glistened. The governor and the silver-haired woman ate the other two.

 

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