James squeezes my hand and my thoughts seem to untangle. Reality hits hard, crushes the dreamy images he’s painted. “If I find them, you’d exploit them too.”
He waves a finger as if to scold us. “No, so we can help people. Help everyone. Take society out of the hands of these deceitful one-percenters who don’t care if anyone falls ill or dies.”
“She’s saying no. We’re saying no,” James reiterates.
“Robert,” Mrs. Murphy interrupts. “If hatchlings are involved, let’s at least give some of the gold back.” Hope rises as my focus swings back to Mrs. Murphy. Maybe I can get through to her.
“Most of my men are dead, Aine. And for those who survived you want me to take away their earnings?” Dr. Burke balks.
“But I already paid them,” she whispers. “I paid you.”
As Dr. Burke’s features harden, I finally confirm Dr. Burke is not helping Mrs. Murphy escape her husband out of love. He’s using her. “Aine,” he sighs. “I didn’t want it to come to this.”
Men materialize from the shadows. I swivel to try to count. Three turn into five, which turn into eight. James curses beside me, and we both step toward one another, ready to protect the other.
“You’re saying no? Fine. Who is to say the gold wasn’t always ours to begin with? It’s your word against ours,” Dr. Burke says, calm and cold.
“You have no proof,” I shout, but my voice wobbles.
“Don’t I? The Murphys cultivating gold and using it to save their son after a severe injury makes more sense than the truth. The nobody Walshespossess gold? It’s unbelievable,” Dr. Burke spouts like he’s spinning a tale. “But—a spotter at that race, a copper girl, saw the gold and has since been planning the robbery all summer.” He laughs. “In fact, John has already been spreading rumors that Walshes are thieves.”
I look over at James whose face has fallen ashen. He’s come to the same realization. How twisted this could get. Or how easily it could be twisted. “One problem,” James says as he straightens. “I have to go along with that story, and I refuse to lie for any of you ever again.”
A poacher steps forward, swinging an obsidian blade. My arm aches knowing what kind of damage it truly can do, how it feels piercing through skin.
Dr. Burke smiles. “I only need one gold-crafter. I feed you, James, and it will further strengthen my story.”
“With gold we can break and heal you over and over again,” another poacher calls out. “Have all the gold in the world and it would only take a few flakes.”
They talk of torture. Of torturing and healing James until he complies.
“Robert, what are you saying?” Mrs. Murphy objects. And I think she’s finally getting it, how evil these men are, how the greed of gold has amplified it. I wonder if they would have ever let Nity go? If I’d stepped aside and let them tranquilize her, would she have lived? The question has been quaking through me since I fell. Now blinking away the sting in my eyes I know the truth. They wouldn’t have let her live. As soon as she became too much trouble, attacked to get back to her hatchlings, they would have put her down.
“How do you explain my skill in gold-crafting?” I ask. “My power provides the evidence to counter any of your lies.” In example, I craft the gold into a blade once again, a physical manifestation of the only leverage I possess.
Dr. Burke’s face pulls grim and stern, now a wash of true cruel disregard as he continues with, “What do you think men? We get rid of the evidence, don’t we?”
Shock impales every sense as the men shout their agreement. Did he…did he just imply that I’m merely evidence to be killed in order to get away with his plan? So much forhuman life is sacred.
Every poacher steps forward with obsidian weapons.
“Robert! They’re children.” Mrs. Murphy finally looks scared. Before she can say more two poachers yank her back and hold her steady.
“Touch her and you’ll have to kill me too,” James says, stepping in front of me.
Mrs. Murphy screams again in anguish. “Robert, he’s my son.My son. You promised me you’d protect him.”
“That’s when I thought the gold was yours.” Poachers hold her back as she cries out. “You lost your usefulness long ago.”
Mrs. Murphy struggles and a small needle gets jammed into her neck. The next moment she’s sagging against the very men she hired. James shakes as he roars beside me.
They’re monsters. We’re dealing with real monsters.
“You won’t get away with this,” I bellow. False confidence, of course, but my parents will figure it out, I’m sure. I think to the note I left on the kitchen table apologizing and explaining why I had to come here. Plus, if they plan to stab me with the same volcanic glass I had impaled in my arm and my father in his stomach, it’s easy to make the connection.
Dr. Burke holds up a hand to stop his men. Everyone halts.
“You’re right, Farren. I have a better idea.” He turns to the men closest to the stalls. “Get the dragon we worked on last night.”
