~ Power ~

Chapter 6 - The Slums

Freya waited at the tree line until well after sunset, but there was no sign of Ken-Lee anywhere. She began to worry and decided that she was going to search for him. Surely it was dark enough to slip into town unnoticed, she thought to herself. Just then Smokey coughed up a fireball onto a nearby tree. Freya quickly patted it out and then frowned at her scaly companion.

‘You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?’

Freya looked around at the campsite one last time and then, with Smokey cradled in her arms, she began to follow the path she had watched Ken-Lee take several hours before.

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Freya reached the outskirts of Lerant just over half an hour later. She slowed to a halt and gently set Smokey down on the ground. The dragon had fallen asleep somewhere along the way and had proven to be very heavy over long distances.

Freya stretched her arms and gazed out over the village. As Ken-Lee had said, Lerant was a large village; one side of it lay almost in complete darkness; the other side was lit up from corner to corner. The dark side would be an ideal entry point, but as she did not know where she was going, she decided that entering upon the well-lit side would prove more successful.

Her stomach began to rumble and she realised all of a sudden just how hungry she was. She looked down at Smokey who was sleeping soundly on the patch of grass she had placed him on. It crossed her mind to leave him there until she returned with Ken-Lee, but she had grown too fond of him and too protective to leave him to the mercy of the elements and potential bandits in the area. She scooped him up once again and pushed on down the hill and towards the east side of Lerant. In his haste, Ken-Lee had failed to stress the importance of her sticking to the west side of town and staying away from the east side at all costs. He’d mentioned it, but he hadn’t stressed the point. And that’s exactly where she was walking now.

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The town was very run down. There were several collapsed buildings which bordered the entrance and one or two that appeared to have burnt down, the structures’ hollow carcasses coated in a thick layer of soot. What remained of the furniture had been tipped over and apparently ransacked by the locals.

Freya was uncomfortable with what she saw, but she had no choice, she had to push on. She walked in the direction of the most functional looking building, a tavern by the end of the lane. It had a sturdy looking structure and it was as well-lit as any building that she could see. The stairs were old and rickety, creaking with every step. On the patio she looked through one of the dusty windows into the bar. There was an old, bearded man slouched over the counter. He appeared to be sleeping, but every now and then he would twitch violently or call out something incomprehensible.

Freya stepped inside and the floorboards creaked. She stopped and grimaced, observing whether the man had detected her presence yet. He hadn’t. She started walking again and a few steps later there was another creak from the floorboards. The man shifted to his side, still asleep. Freya looked down at Smokey and decided to hide him behind the bar. She then approached the man and gently put a hand on his shoulder. He jerked awake and muttered a string of indecipherable words.

‘Hello mister,’ Freya said in her politest voice.

The bearded man looked Freya up and down and offered her a toothless smile.

‘Wa yi doin’ roun’ these parts misseh?’ His breath reeked of liquor. It made Freya’s eyes water, but she fought the impulse to step backwards as she didn’t want to insult the only man who could potentially help her.