In The Lair of the Draca (Book 2)

In the Lair of the Draca (Book 2) Chapter 24: Paichek

Franek gulped. Whatever Dragura wished to do to her, there would be no escaping from it. With a sinking feeling in the pit of her gut, she decided she may as well tell the truth. "I wanted to give poor Paichek a night's rest," Franek managed, hating herself for the tremble in her voice. She thought of lifting her chin in a defiant fashion, but wilted at the effort.

Dragura placed her hands on her hips and glowered daggers at Franek. The chained beasts at the turrets howled and snapped, dripping long lines of foamy ooze at the prospect of the taste of meat. In front of Franek, the three Draca which were unchained dipped their heads in unison and kept their snouts aimed at the ground-- the proper position of respect for the woman who had given them Life.

"Did I give you permission to issue Paichek such a rest?"

"No, Mistress."

"Well, then what possessed you to do so?"

"It was mere goodwill, Mistress. Paichek wanders about the place with barely a hide stretched over thin bones and bags under her eyes. She does not eat. She does not sleep. I merely wanted to allow her to recuperate-- and I planned to feed all of the Draca before the Twin Moons retreated in the morning," Franek said in a rush. A tiny bud of hope welled; she squelched it in a hurry. Dragura seemed little more than irked, but not furious. Perhaps, just perhaps, Franek would come out of this alive.

Dragura inclined her head and smirked. Her lips seemed to shine in the star-light, as though she'd just blushed them with gloss from one of her tiny painted pots. What woman wore lip-gloss in the dead of night?

"Ah. You were being generous, then."

Franek nodded wildly, like a doll with a loose neck which is shaken severely. Dragura turned to the beasts in their neck braces and looked them over. "Why have they not eaten? And why is it that you have only one lamb? Paichek has perfected this business of feeding; she can herd a group of seven or eight sheep up the stairs at once."

"I--"

"Do you think you can lie to me?" Dragura's voice was suddenly shrill, ear-splitting.

Franek could not help herself; she jumped, and the lamb bleated. "No! No one is lying to you, Mistress!"

"Then I demand that you tell me what tomfoolery has been passing on along here-- and do it now, before you see what it is like for me to lose my temper! Wainrak is different. Odd. She ghosts about the kitchen as though she has been drugged. What did you do to her, Franek? Have you been medicating my handmaidens in order to coerce them into some type of revolt?"

"NO!" Franek was aghast.

"Then explain all this," Dragura snapped, spreading one arm before her in a sweeping gesture. "Wainrak walks about the place with empty eyes, like glass. Paichek is sleeping when she should be feeding my pets-- my babies-- and you are up to some trick. I know it! That is why you have only one lamb!"

Franek shivered. "Mistress-- I-- I do not know how to tell you this...but the Draca would not eat this lamb."

Dragura looked visibly surprised. She might as well have eagerly opened a gift-wrapped box, expecting expensive perfumes, only to have a field mouse jump out at her. "Oh?" She looked at the snarling Draca over by the turrets. "Then you have just told me your first lie," she said smugly. "They look hungry to me."

"On the contrary," Franek interjected meekly. "There was talk-- talk from the little round-bellied girl. Quka? Qukat?"

"Yes, Qukat. The little rat from Hidden Well. Get on with it! I haven't got all night to stand out here and shiver in the cold!"