Dragon and Judge

"Get it," Langston ordered. "No telling how long we'll be up there."

Numbly, Jack obeyed, stuffing as much as he could into his Judge-Paladin hat. "Ready," he said, coming back to the light shaft as he tucked the hat inside his shirt.

"Get in," Langston said, pointing to the shaft. "Sitting up; back against the left side."

Jack did so. The shaft was a little too narrow for him to stretch all the way out, forcing him to bend his knees. Even through his shirt he could feel the roughness of the wall, and wondered uneasily how that was going to affect Draycos.

"Now take this." Langston thrust one of the bows into the opening. "Turn it with the bow part up and the bowstring down and wedge the ends against the walls to your right and left. You probably want it about a foot in front of you and a foot or two above your head."

The bow, like Jack himself, was a little large for the opening. Pulling on the bowstring to compress the wood, he was able to get it in position. "Okay."

"Here's what you're going to do," Langston said. "You're going to pull yourself up with the bow while you walk your feet up the other side. Then you'll brace your back against the wall, move the bow up a couple more feet, and repeat. It's basically a climber's rock chimney technique, only with the bow to help."

Jack tried it. The method was awkward, but it seemed simple enough. "Be sure to hold the bow near the ends when you're pulling yourself up or it might flip over on you," Langston said, peering in at him. "Keep going—I'll be right behind you."

Clenching his teeth, Jack headed up.

They'd gone perhaps thirty feet, and Jack's arms were starting to tremble, when Langston whispered a quick warning.

Someone was moving around in the apartment below.

Jack froze, gripping the bow as he pressed his back and feet against the walls. His mind flashed back to that first encounter with the Golvins back at the spaceport, when they'd been able to sniff out his parentage. If one of them thought to stick his nose into the light shaft, it would be all over.

Or maybe not. The air was moving up the shaft from below, he noticed now, carrying his and Langston's scents upward with it. Probably something to do with the stone having absorbed sunlight all day and still giving some of that heat back to the air inside the apartments. A minute later, the footsteps fell silent, and he heard Golvin voices calling faintly from outside the apartment. "Go," Langston whispered.

Jack resumed climbing. His arms and legs were beginning to ache, his back feeling itchy and sore and cold where it pressed against the stone.

But none of that mattered. All he could think about was Draycos, stretched across his skin.

Maybe dying.

The word terrified him. But he couldn't put it out of his mind. Over and over as he climbed he mentally called the K'da's name. But there was no answer.

And he was lying so still against Jack's skin. So very, very still.

"Jack?" Langston called softly.

Jack started out of a haze of ache and fear and guilt. "What?" he whispered.

"We're here."

Jack blinked the tears out of his eyes. To his surprise, he saw that the stone wall to his right had opened up onto a rough-hewn hole. "How do I get in?"

"First, make sure it's really still open," Langston said. "Reach in and give the far side a push."

Jack shifted his grip on the bow and stretched a hand into the hole. His fingers touched something slightly stretchy and gave it a push.

It popped out, sending a rush of warm air into his face. "Bless their simple little minds," Langston murmured. "Now put your feet in and just slide yourself through."

A minute later Jack was sprawled on the apartment floor, his arms and legs trembling with released strain. He barely noticed as Langston came in and crossed to the door. The other stood there a moment, and then came back. "So far, so good," he said, squatting down beside Jack. "How's your friend?"

"I don't know," Jack said, brushing at his shoulder. Did the skin where Draycos was lying feel hot? "Draycos?"

There was no answer. "I don't know what the floos is going on with this," Langston said. "But however this works, that wound is probably bleeding like crazy. We've got to get a look at it."

Jack closed his eyes. Draycos, he thought urgently as he pushed up his sleeve. We need to look at your wound. We need you to come off. Can you do that?

Abruptly, the K'da was there, pouring off Jack's arm more like a thick liquid than a living being. He collapsed onto the stone floor and lay there in a broken heap, not moving.

His entire side was covered in black blood.

"Oh, no," Jack breathed, his heart seizing up as he bent over his friend's still form.