Last Dragon 6: Fire World by Chris D'Lacey

Author:Chris D'Lacey [D'Lacey, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Social Issues, Animals, Action & Adventure, Dragons; Unicorns & Mythical, Fantasy Fiction, Juvenile Fiction, Dragons, Paranormal, Fantasy & Magic, General, Fantasy, Supernatural, Paranormal Fiction, Fiction, Values & Virtues, Good and Evil
ISBN: 9780545283687
Google: aHPIJHf2_cAC
Amazon: B005455WEA
Publisher: Orchard Books
Published: 2011-04-26T19:13:47+00:00

PART THREE

WHICH HAS ITS

BEGINNINGS ON THE

ISLE OF ALAVON,

A LONG-FORGOTTEN AREA

OF THE DEAD LANDS

ALSO MARCH 7, 032

1.

Harlan Merriman and Bernard Brotherton were transported to the Dead Lands, at night, by penal taxicar. They were escorted there by two Re:movers (Pinstriped and Plain). The prisoners were not allowed any possessions, only the minimal clothes they were dressed in. And though neither man was formally bound, the Re:movers ordered them to sit with their hands clearly visible on their knees. All speech was forbidden. The use of fain, the prisoners were warned, would be considered a grave violation of the terms of their re:moval from the Grand Design. When Bernard rather foolishly asked, “What terms?” he was rewarded with a bolt of charge from a scanner. The shock of it left his four limbs shaking and froth bubbling from the corners of his mouth. Harlan, careful not to show any form of dissent, gathered the wounded tech:nician in his arms. The Re:movers let this pass. It was the only concession they made to either captive throughout the remainder of the journey.

When the taxicar finally slowed to a halt, the doors opened with a crisp whoosh and the man-machines stepped out in perfect synchrony. They ordered the prisoners to move. The scientists stumbled down a short metal ramp, onto a dark, desolate, odorless wilderness very similar to that which Eliza Merriman had encountered. The land was mostly flat in all directions and barely seemed able to sustain a blade of grass. Here and there, thanks to the few rays of moonlight finding outlets through the clouds, a rough cast of stone could be seen jutting out of the sterile surface. There was no sign of water, certainly no food. Nothing on any horizon but the promise of loneliness.

Bernard began to shiver. It was cold here. Very cold. Nothing like the carefully controlled environments either man was used to in Co:pern:ica Central.

Pinstriped spoke. “Harlan Merriman, Bernard Brotherton, your citizenship of Co:pern:ica is revoked. You will remain in the Dead Lands until you expire by any means. This is by order of an Aunt Su:perior. This is the will of the Higher.”

With that, the Re:movers climbed into their taxicar and were gone.

Bernard dropped to his knees, sinking his bones into the gluey earth.

“Come on,” Harlan said, touching him gently on the shoulder. “We have to go.”

“Where to?” Bernard begged, throwing his arms wide. “Look around you, Harlan. Everywhere leads to nowhere. We’re doomed.”

“You’ve heard the stories,” Harlan said. “There are communities here. People survive. If we stay where we are, the cold will kill us. We must walk, Bernard. It’s our only chance.”

The tech:nician dropped his stubby hands flat against his thighs. “In which direction? We can’t even use our fain to guide us.”

“I’d say our best bet lies that way.” Harlan nodded at something shimmering in the distance.

Bernard squinted for a focal point. “Are they … torches?” he whispered, gathering hope into his voice. He scrabbled to his feet for a better look. Away to

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