"Not necessarily," Jack said. An idea was taking shape in the back of his mind as Draycos's cryptic comment started to make sense. "Do we know how many armed Brummgas they've got in the estate?"

Fleck shrugged. "I'd guess sixty or seventy."

"Vehicles?"

"A couple dozen of those open-topped cars," Fleck said. "There are also six small airfighters—Clax-7 patrol planes, six-seaters. Those are probably armed."

"Then we're in business," Jack said. "How long will it take to get the glider ready to fly?"

"It's mostly ready now," Fleck said. "I just need to wind up the launcher and fire it off."

"And it'll go over the wall?"

Fleck grimaced. "Halfway over, anyway."

"That's all we'll need," Jack assured him. "How many people will it take to get it going?"

Fleck was eying him closely. "I can do it myself," he said.

"Okay," Jack said. "That's your job, then."

He gestured over his shoulder. "The rest of us are going to go through the thorn hedge and head for the front of the house. There are some transports there, big ones that can get us off-planet. We'll borrow one, and take it right through the gate."

"Who's going to fly it?" someone asked.

"I will," Jack said.

"How will we get through the hedge?" Maerlynn asked.

"Yeah," Muskrack agreed. "They watch that gap."

"There's another opening we can use, about a hundred yards east of the road,"

Jack told him. "Once you fire off the glider, Fleck, you head there and catch up with us."

"What about the guards?" Noy asked.

"Most of them should charge off to see who was trying to get over the wall,"

Jack said. "We'll just have to take care of whoever's left by ourselves."

"What, with that?" someone asked, pointing to the slapstick Fleck had given Jack. Jack smiled. "Hardly," he said. "I've got a friend already on it."

There was a moment of awkward silence. "A friend?" someone asked pointedly.

"Trust me, he's more than able to deal with the Brummgas," Jack assured him, grimacing to himself. Trust me, he'd said; only these weren't fellow con men he was trying to talk into helping on some scheme. These were slaves, who'd seen every other escape attempt ruthlessly crushed by their Brummgan masters.

There was another moment of silence. "Well, then, we'd better get going,"

Fleck said with a hearty confidence Jack could tell he didn't entirely feel. "You have any other instructions?"

Jack took a deep breath. "You've got five minutes to gather whatever you want to take with you," he said, pointing toward the sleeping quarters. "Fleck, give us—" he paused, doing a quick estimate "—give us twenty minutes before you fire off the glider. Can you do that?"

Fleck nodded. "Sure."

"And really hustle on your way back," Jack warned. "Once we start our play, we may not be able to slow it down. Okay; everyone go get your stuff."

The group scattered, the slaves hurrying toward the two sleeping huts. "Good luck," Jack said, nodding to Fleck.

"See you soon," Fleck said. Giving Jack one last measuring look he turned and headed the opposite way into the forest.

"What now?" Draycos murmured.

"First job is to get through the hedge," Jack told him, heading toward a wide tree twenty yards from the light pouring out of the huts. "Think you can finish that hole you were working on?"

"No problem."

"Gazen may still have guards watching it," Jack pointed out. "You'll have to deal with them."

"As I said, no problem," the dragon repeated. "And then?"

"I'm afraid you're going to get the heavy end of this one, buddy," Jack said.

Reaching the wide tree, he slid halfway around it, putting his right sleeve out of sight from the slave areas. "You're going to have to clear the path for us through whatever guard posts the Brummgas have out there. And you're going to have to do it without letting any of our group spot you. I know that's a lot to ask."

"You have not yet truly seen what a K'da warrior can do, Jack," Draycos said.

"Where shall I meet you when I am finished? At the mercenary transports?"

"Right," Jack said, his throat suddenly feeling dry. The grim confidence in the dragon's voice was just a little scary. "I'll pick the best-armored one and set it to ram the gate. We'll take the next-best-armored one to ride out in."

"You will need to alert Uncle Virge that we are coming."

Jack nodded. "I'll call him as soon as you're on your way. Any questions?"

"None." With a flicker of weight, Draycos slid out of Jack's sleeve. "I will see you there."

"Good luck," Jack called softly as the dragon bounded off into the night.

"Warrior's luck," Draycos corrected over his shoulder.

He disappeared behind a stand of rainbow berry bushes and was gone. Glancing once more around him, Jack lifted his left foot and pried back the sole.

Uncle Virge, he thought darkly, was going to love this.

CHAPTER 32

The last hint of glow was gone from the western sky. Draycos moved across the ground like a golden shadow, quick and silent.

A golden shadow that was rapidly fading to black as his pounding heart drove dark blood into his muscles and scales. A poet-warrior of the K'da, in full combat readiness.

Jack had indeed never seen what a K'da warrior could do. He probably wouldn't see it now, either.

The hidden Brummgan watcher was just settling into position when Draycos arrived at the hedge. Comfortably concealed, no doubt feeling quite pleased with himself, the guard was clearly not expecting any trouble.

He didn't so much as squeak as Draycos knocked him cold.

The hedge itself was still the tangled mess he'd found on his previous visits.

But now that he didn't have to conceal his handiwork, the thorny branches retreated before his slashing claws like driftwood before an incoming wave. A

few minutes' work, and he had a hole that even Fleck would find adequate.

So far it had been easy, simple tasks that even a raw K'da trainee could handle.

Now came the tricky part.

The breeze was coming steadily from the west. Crossing through the hedge, he swung wide to the east, downwind of whatever sentries and hidden guard posts the Brummgas had set up to watch the gaps in the hedge. He ran hard and open along the ground, sniffing the air as he went, trusting his now completely black scales to conceal him.

So the glider had been built by Noy's parents. At least that explained why he'd detected the boy's scent at the site.

Or did it?

Because it was clear that no one had worked on the glider for quite some time.

From the way Maerlynn had talked, he'd had the impression Noy's parents had died at least a few months ago.

Which meant that whatever he'd smelled at the glider had gone through several months of wind, rain, nosy animals, and simple evaporation. K'da senses were good, but they weren't that good. Not by a long throw. Not by several long throws.

At least, not under normal circumstances.

The odor of distant Brummga touched his snout and tongue, and he took a quick bearing that direction. There was a stone fountain several hundred yards away, probably where the guard was lurking. Mentally marking the spot for future reference, he continued on.

For that matter, his sense of smell shouldn't be good enough for this task, either. In fact, now that he thought about it, all his senses seemed to have been gradually improving over the past couple of months.

The past three months, in fact. Ever since he'd teamed up with Jack. The question was, why?

There was one rather unpleasant possibility. Ancient legend said that as a K'da approached death, his senses often sharpened dramatically.

But that couldn't be it. Draycos had been very close to death aboard the Havenseeker, just before Jack showed up. He hadn't felt any dramatic surge in his hearing or smell then. At least, he didn't think so.