Dragon Chameleon: Episodes 5-8 (Dragon Chameleon Omnibuses Book 2) Page 2

  I shivered. Could the Midnight Artificers have taken those dragons? And if they did – what sort of an object would you make a dragon into? Something terrible, I bet. I wished I knew how many were missing.

  Ten are missing.

  She sounded very certain.

  I did not wish to leave any behind. I questioned the others closely.

  And where were Saboraak and Bataar now?

  Far. I had to backtrack to find your mind, but I will need to leave again soon. We are far down the mountain, almost into the deserts of Kav’ai.

  I felt shocked that they were already so far.

  We fled all night. Soon I will lose connection with you.

  I felt torn. I’d had to help Zin last night. But I should be with Saboraak. Both of them were under my care and needed my help. By helping one, I’d put the other in danger.

  Bataar must meet Apeq on the Seat of Judgment – the Ko’tor’kaen- tomorrow night. But he must come with me and help me save these dragons. The journey, he says, will take four days – even if we are flying. Two days there. Two days back.

  And Bataar could not be in two places at once. Maybe she could go without him. I could find him and get him back to the city in time. But in time for what? What was so vital about getting him back here in time?

  Last night, Apeq laid claim to all of Ko’Torenth. He said in his speech that he would lead them to victory over the Dominion and “usher Kav’ai back into the fold.” The people were with him until Bataar challenged Apeq’s claim of all of Ko’Torenth, using the Ko on his arms as his proof of authority. There was a riot, people shouting and fighting from both factions. We barely got out alive.

  So, if Bataar was not there for the challenge, then Apeq would rule unchallenged and that would mean the imminent invasion of the Dominion.

  Yes.

  Then Saboraak must fly Bataar back here immediately.

  These dragons are worth saving. I will not abandon them. They served their riders faithfully. Death is not a fair price for that!

  Well, we were in quite the pickle. Saboraak was bound by honor to help her own. I was bound to prevent a war. Bataar thought he was bound to prophecy and legend. We were quite the bunch.

  I stood motionless in the dusty stairwell, my mind racing as I tried to picture Bataar and Saboraak last night. He had gone in his Kav’ai garb with his face and head covered by a thick veil and his loose clothing flowing around him. He had shown the Ko, made his challenge and left. The people wouldn’t be able to pick him out of a crowd. Not with his face covered.

  Exactly.

  But in Kav’ai, he was the only one who knew how to help the dragons. Saboraak needed him.

  Yes.

  The answer was so obvious that I almost laughed at myself.

  You’re asking me to take his place, aren’t you Saboraak?

  Yes. She sounded sheepish.

  You want me to go stand on that awful platform again and face off with Apeq. But this time there would be no Saboraak to catch me when I fell. It would be suicide

  Will you do it?

  Ummm ... no? Was ‘no’ an option? It sounded like suicide, and despite what it might look like, I was not suicidal.

  I need this, Tor. I need to save these dragons. This is the only way. You’ve survived worse. Her mental voice seemed to be pleading.

  I only survived before because she was with me! But that was it, wasn’t it? She’d saved my hide many times. What kind of worm would I be if I didn’t give her what she wanted?

  I swallowed. This was a terrible idea. An idea that was almost certain to get me killed.

  It’s a gamble and you are a gambler.

  It made me think of Zin’s words. Lying was impossible. Maybe. But maybe I could pull it off. Maybe I could gamble one more time and live. I was good at showing people what they wanted to see. I’d just do it one last time and then Zin and I would leave here. Maybe even with Zyla in tow.

  I knew I was talking myself into it, but I couldn’t stop.

  Had Saboraak seen Zyla last night?

  Last time I saw her, she was safe.

  Well, that was a relief. What was going to happen to Bataar – to me posing to be Bataar – after he challenged Apeq? Was he expecting to be imprisoned? Followed?

  He thinks the rulers of Ko’Torenth will bend the knee to him. That it is his destiny. He says the prophecies are clear. If you can just hold on for a few days and keep your identity hidden, then he will return and take over ruling from you.

  A risky plan. They could choose Apeq instead.

  He says that they can’t.

  They could decide to kill me just for standing up there. Especially if they realized who I was!

  Don’t be dramatic.

  Fine, Saboraak. I’ll do it - but you owe me.

  What do I owe you, trout? If my tally is correct, I’ve saved your life four times now.

  I deflated. When she put it that way ...

  Her voice interrupted hurriedly.

  I’m joking, Tor. I’ll always be there when you fall.

  It was Bataar who was getting out of all of this too easy. He’d wanted to be free of responsibility. Wasn’t it convenient that he’d found some other fellow to shuffle it onto just in time?

  He didn’t plan this.

  Maybe not, but he was about to benefit from it.

  I must go.

  Yeah, go. Just stay safe. Don’t die on me.

  Same to you.

  I felt her mental voice leave me.

  Fine Dragon Rider I was. I couldn’t even keep my dragon around, much less keep her to myself. It seemed that big heart of hers was always flying off to save someone or another.

  I smiled affectionately as I finished making my way down the stairs, snuck out the secret doorway, through the hall, and into the inn’s common room.

  I had two days of freedom until I had to face Apeq and I planned to use every minute of those days getting myself some kind of an advantage.

  Chapter Four

  ADVANTAGES, IT SEEMED, were hard to come by in Ziu. I hadn’t realized how different this peak was from the others in Ko’Koren. Ziu was rife with the criminals. I hadn’t seen any on the boardwalks of Balde and Eski. I’d almost been pickpocketed more times than I could count in the first hours that I wandered through the levels.

  Small knots of scarred men and women huddled in any shadow or crevice there was between buildings, speaking in low voices and sending shifty-eyed glares in my direction.

  Crime wasn’t the only things rife in Ziu. This was where things got done.

  There was barely an Exalted guard or fancy house in sight. Instead, the boardwalks were jam-packed with porters and yudazgoat drivers. Open carts filled with coal moved in a steady stream along the cart rails, the sounds and smells of blacksmiths, tanners, butchers, and chandlers filled the air. I smelled gore as I passed the butcher that changed to a sweet lavender at the chandlers and a smell that made my belly rumble as I passed a bakery. The bakery spanned three levels, churning out golden bread at an unbelievable rate. Men with massive baskets strapped to their backs exited the bakery, darting along the boardwalks and up the stairways on a mission to deliver it all over the city.

  Ziu was a place I could love. I could live in these streets.

  I’d stopped at the bakery, buying a huge loaf of bread as long as my arm and as thick as my wrist and breaking off pieces of the steaming loaf as I walked, stuffing them in my mouth. Yes, I could get used to Ziu.

  I was looking for a few things. First among them, was a set of throwing knives. Once you got the hang of juggling, throwing knives was an easy skill to pick up and I’d had an old set before Vanika fell. But throwing knives were expensive. Getting the weight just right took skill. I hadn’t been able to afford a replacement set after I lost my first ones – an aged pair I’d bought from a fence eager to get rid of them. Until now. Hubric’s gold would go a long way.

  I darted through the crowds, scanning shop signs and windows with care.
My gaze snagged on a figure in a blue tunic and cloak peering at me through the crowds. I must stand out despite my attempt to blend in. Either that, or someone from the Midnight Artificers was looking for me here. They’d better not be. If they were, this was all going to be a lot more difficult.

  When the crowd jostled him and he had to look away, I ducked into the nearest knife shop, browsing over their wares. On a shelf behind the counter, a set of eight steel throwing knives with sheaths for wrists and ankles sang to me like a siren. The other knives in the shop were heavily decorated with House crests or scrollwork. These were unadorned but perfectly crafted.

  “Can I see those?” I asked the shopkeeper.

  “A good eye, fine sir. Though these are simply my shop models. They are balanced but undecorated. Merely placeholders to show the quality of the blade. We can decorate the handles with a crest or design as you like. Give us twenty days and we will perfect them for you. Or, if you are pressed for time, perhaps I can show you some finished products. Something with silver inlaid, perhaps?”

  As if a knife cut any deeper because it had a pretty handle!

  “Can I check the balance?”

  He handed me one and I tested it, checking to see how it balanced over a single finger. I twisted my hand, letting the knife roll across my knuckles and then back into my grip. Perfect.

  “These will do,” I said briskly. “How much?”

  “I sell the finished sets,” the shopkeeper said, emphasizing the word ‘finished’ in a firm tone, but his eyes were on my hands as I made the blade dance along my knuckles again and then spin through the air in an arc to my other hand. “A finished set is sold for five gold coins. I can show you a set I finished last night. Their balance is lovely and the scrollwork on the handles exquisite.”

  He smiled, twirling a wide mustache, but there was a worried look in his eyes. Clearly, I was breaking custom, but I didn’t care. I was no Exalted to throw pretty toys around. I meant to do business with these knives. Who would want to leave their signature every time they left a knife in someone?

  I slipped a second one from its casing, juggling the two knives in a simple crossover pattern. Carefully, I added a third. This was the edge of what I could do with juggling knives, but they performed well, balancing as expected.

  “If you are a performer, perhaps something with crystals in the pommel? Something that flashes, yes?”

  In answer, I let the knives fall in a line along his wooden counter, trying not to look too smug at his shock when all three landed perfectly, their tips buried in the wood and their handles vibrating.

  “Just these, I think, and the rest of their set.” I reached into my purse for five gold coins, lining them up neatly along the counter. I added one more to the line. “And an extra coin for your discretion.”

  No need to have him telling every fool who came in about the boy who bought his knives for a fool’s price. The shopkeeper’s eyes popped, but he swept the gold into his hand without a pause and smiled widely as he helped me position the wrist and ankle sheaths and arrange the eight knives.

  “A fine purchase, hopefully for a fine gentleman?”

  He must think I was off to rob someone with them. Nothing could be further from the truth ... well, unless you considered stealing a kingdom to be theft. Perhaps that was the greatest theft of all. But Apeq was stealing it first.

  I left the shop with a feeling of hope. Maybe there would be a way to survive this next step. Eight knives could only help my chances, right? I scanned the streets for the man in blue, but even he had disappeared. Yes, there were reasons to be hopeful.

  By the time I started back to the inn, with darkness falling around me, I had found everything we would need. Clothing, weapons, and ways to carry them. Hope made my burdens light and my step easy.

  I’d hesitated when I was purchasing things for Zin, but I couldn’t leave her here. I’d just have to trust that she had enough sense left to survive this with me. She was the only ally I had nearby. And the only friend.

  Chapter Five

  THE SIGN FOR THE FROSTY Pint was in sight when I rounded the last corner. I was hunched against a freezing wind and the flaying ice dust that drove before it. The shadows were long and black, and the snow was blue under the darkening sky. A dangerous time to be out in the boardwalks. I quickened my pace.

  The snow had drifted, filling some of the crevices between the buildings, but the one nearest me had an odd look – like it was too black. That didn’t make sense at all. I peered into it, my eyes blinded by the bright lights in the inn windows nearby.

  I was still peering into the shadow when an arm reached out of it, grabbed me by the front of my coat and dragged me into the narrow crevice. My packages fell to the ground.

  I had a knife in my hand before I could blink, grateful for the purchase. Even more grateful that my hand didn’t shake despite my soaring pulse.

  There was a harsh laugh from the shadow and a hand shot out to hold my wrist.

  “You’re going to stab me, boy? And here I thought you’d be glad to see me.”

  I gasped. Silver swirled in the depths of those eyes and a hulking frame towered over me, but there were no swirling violet robes. Shabren wore the clothing of the Order of the Oaks instead, his simple white robe bare to the snow and wind without even a heavy cloak to protect him. He must like frostbite. Or maybe he was so vain he just didn’t care.

  “Having fun in the slums, Shabren?” I tried to keep my voice light and mocking. “And here I thought you were getting your jollies causing riots.”

  “I cause nothing, boy. I simply ride the wave of chaos.”

  I tried to pull out of his grasp, but he was too strong. The hand gripping my wrist tightened. I could go for the knife in the other sleeve, but I needed to wait. If I revealed that I had more than one, then he could use his overpowering strength to stop me. I needed to wait until I could surprise him. If I could keep him talking ...

  “So that wasn’t you I saw controlling those golems?”

  “Oh, look what a smart lad you are with fancy names for magical creatures.”

  He stomped on my instep to punctuate his sentence and I moaned, barely biting back a yell. Stars and skies! That hurt! Air hissed through my teeth as I slumped against his grip.

  “I want those girls back, boy,” he hissed.

  “Then talk to your friend Apeq A’kona,” I said through gritted teeth as the pain washed over me. “He has them.”

  “He only has one. The other slipped away. And she left quite a mess behind her. I’ve known that girl for a long time – months. You could call us ‘old acquaintances.’” I shivered at his words, but he kept talking. “I’ve never seen her hurt a fly. So, I asked myself, I said, Shabren, who do you know who has a tendency to muck up people’s plans? Who do you know who likes to snatch girls away? Who do you know who likes bread?”

  “Bread?” I scoffed. I was slowly working the knife in my other sleeve out of its holster. Inch by inch, I was slipping it into my palm.

  “You stole a bag of bread when you brought that lizard down on our camp. But I don’t see a lizard here.”

  “That’s ‘dragon’ not lizard,” I muttered, but I was thinking.

  Bread. He must have had a spy planted at the bakery. I’d been stuffing my face with bread that morning while some hidden rat brought him word of my location. Could it have been the man in blue? I’d been happily shopping for gear while Shabren was making his way here. Careless fool! Now, I was at his mercy.

  “It’s whatever I say it is, boy.”

  Pain shot through my arm. Pain so intense that the knife in the hand he held fell from my grip to land silently in the snow. Shabren threw a hand over my mouth, blocking my screams and shoved me back against the stone wall of the building as wave upon wave of pain tore through me.

  “Tough,” he muttered. “Tougher than anyone would guess.”

  I fought the pain, slipping the dagger the rest of the way out of the sleeve of my fre
e hand and down into my grip so I could strike. My hand arced around, jabbing the knife up at him, but he knocked it easily to the side. I shuddered under the waves of pain, coughing wildly as it choked the life out of me.

  I would die here in the snow at the hands of Shabren. Panic swept over me, choking out thought. I was going to die. Each heartbeat thudded through me - a loud surprise – as if they were trying to be noticed before they were gone.

  He released me so suddenly that I slumped against the wall, unable to move, unable to breathe. My vision narrowed to darkness. I fought against it feebly. Whatever he had done – whatever magic he had used – had crippled my mind with pain. I cringed from it still, not even wanting to breathe in case one more breath brought that pain back.

  “Where is the girl?” Shabren demanded. “She has the book – I know it!”

  “Not here,” I choked out. I’d almost forgotten that Shabren was looking for Hubric’s book.

  “Then where?” He raised his hand, ready to strike again.

  “Hidden.”

  He smiled. “That’s not a problem, rat. We’ll do a little exchange. You know how those work, right? You give me something and I give you something.”

  “If you want fashion advice,” I said through gritted teeth, fighting the continued echoes of pain that stiffened my muscles and joints. “You can have it for free. Stop it with the robes. They do nothing for your legs.”

  He slapped me so hard my head rang. I spat blood out on the snow, my suddenly fat lips making a mess of trying to spit.

  “Save your lip for someone who cares. I have your friend and the dragon.”

  I shot of fear spiked through me. Saboraak! But I couldn’t hear her voice ...

  Shabren’s bared teeth glinted in the light from the nearby inn. “You can have them back if I get the girls back. Tomorrow before midnight. Fail to arrive, and the next time you see them, they’ll be hanging on the walls of the Jadefire House of Marvels.”

  Fear tore through me. I didn’t doubt that he could do exactly what he promised. I let myself slump the rest of the way to my knees, disguising my fumble at my boot. My fingers still felt thick from the pain. I needed to concentrate. If I could pull a knife from my boot ...