by Megan Derr
"No!" Harren pulled Cadmus across the carriage and into his arms, nudging him to rest his head on Harren's shoulder. "No, it's not gone. Some of the sailors who managed to survive told me what that scumbag Vidner paid some of the others to do if you came looking. I've already got salt dragons and serpents looking for it. They'll bring up every last bit of it they can find." He kissed Cadmus's temple. "Is there anything at all I can do to help you until you get your hoard back?"
"No," Cadmus said. "I'm sorry. I know you don't want to have to deal with a rampaging, murderous dragon."
Harren made him sit up and looked him in the eye. The carriage interior was dim, but there was enough light to see the intensity of his eyes. "Please do not continue under the misconception that I am some upstanding upholder of the law, who never bends or strays from the letter of it. I murdered the men who killed my wife, and I made damned sure nobody could prove it. I just fed a rapist to a demon to get my daughter back. I do my job well, but I'm no blessed paladin from the Towers. That sort doesn't last long in Trice City, to be honest. There are reasons that stealing a dragon's hoard is a capital offense. Vidner did this knowing full well how you would react, what could happen to him, his cohorts, and innocent bystanders. He is the only one who should feel sorry in this mess."
"Still, your reputation doesn't need the blows it will take from associating with a rampaging dragon who murdered… I don't even know how many." He rubbed his sore eyes, wiping away fresh tears. "I just want to be left in peace. I never hurt him. I just wouldn't tell him my secret."
"It's your secret to keep or share as you choose. Absolutely no one should be forcing or stealing it." Harren kissed his temple again. "We're almost to the station. I've arranged a cell away from all the others. Normally they're only used for the especially dangerous criminals—"
"I think I qualify for that."
"Hardly. But I thought you'd enjoy the solitude and not having to worry about other people being near your hoard." He sighed. "I admit others are okay with it because they think you're dangerous, but at the end of the day, it's to protect you until everything can be sorted out and set to rights."
"I killed people. I burned down buildings. I would have kept going." Cadmus cried harder. "I don't deserve protection."
"Yes, you do," Harren said fiercely, kissing his brow again, holding him close, warm and reassuring against him, so small in stature but so large in comfort. "You told me yourself that dragons are all or nothing. We have demons prowling this city; they literally feed on pain and fear. There are countless other people infinitely more dangerous than a dragon lashing out in reaction to a gross violation. I admit most people are not so… flamboyant in their self-defense, but then again, I once knew a mother who went on a killing spree because a man violated and murdered her son while the rest of the street they lived on did nothing, knowing full well what the man could and would likely do. If she can be understood and forgiven, so can you. So stop berating yourself. There will be plenty of other people to do that. That's why we're putting you where we know we can keep you safe."
Cadmus nodded and took the kerchief Harren offered. "I didn't know you actually killed those men. It was a popular rumor, but I always dismissed it."
Harren smiled crookedly. "In this case, rumor is true. One I shot while he was running away, another I threw off one of the pedestrian bridges spanning the river, and the other decided to shoot himself when I had him pinned in an alley. If Serena had died because of that snake oil potion, I would have been no kinder to the man who sold it to her. I'm still not going to be very kind to him, but I'll let the law work as it should. If the law fails to take care of Vidner, I'll address it."
Cadmus looked at him. "How do you know about Vidner already?"
"Serena woke up again not long after you left, and once we told her you'd run off frantic, she told me about Vidner showing up at your shop." He gave Cadmus a stern look. "You should have told me about him. That sort of harassment is illegal. I could have taken care of him."
"I didn't know he'd go to such lengths. He's a lindwyrm. Usually they get bored and move on to a new obsession. I also didn't want to abuse our relationship so. If I'd decided I needed police involvement, I would have followed procedure, not expected my lover to handle everything personally when he has a thousand more important things to attend each day."
"Nothing is more important to me than my family and friends," Harren replied, but before he could say more, the carriage drew to a halt. He sighed. "We will have to continue this discussion later, unfortunately. Nor have I forgotten I owe you a proper apology for being a jealous, insecure ass."
Cadmus laughed faintly but forbore reply as the carriage door swung open. Harren stepped out first and helped Cadmus while he clung tightly to his chest.
A couple of officers holding manacles and a man dressed in fancy, even opulent formal dress, and reeking of bureaucrat stepped forward. "Clap him—"
"If you even think of taking one step closer, I will put those manacles on you," Harren snapped, stepping forward and in front of Cadmus. The officers hastily backed down, dropping well behind the man in the fancy clothes.
The man narrowed his eyes. "I'm not in the mood for your freak-loving obsessions today, Harren. That monster burned down a house, a ship, and has killed at least three people. We don't know for sure how many dead there are because we're still searching for people."
"Call them freaks one more time, Calla, and see what happens to you," Harren hissed. "You might be commissioner because your daddy runs the city, but we all know this force runs because of me, while you spend all of your time in cheap whorehouses because the reputable ones won't take your business anymore."
Calla's face turned red, while around them people fled as far as they could without being accused of abandoning their post. "How dare you! That monster is a murderer! Is it true you're fucking him? Because that means you shouldn't be involved at all."
"I managed to bring him here, didn't I? Where everyone else, including sorcerers, failed?"
"He isn't in manacles!"
"He's naked, exhausted, and more interested in holding onto his hoard than in fighting anymore. The moment he had some of his hoard back, he stopped. He's not a threat to anyone who didn't first threaten him. Do I need to remind you he is a victim of a crime? A capital crime at that. Stand down or I'll put you down, Calla. That goes the same for any freak you attempt to mistreat."
Calla was so red that Cadmus half-expected him to combust, but with several curses and a threat that Harren would pay dearly, he stormed off. The men who'd been holding the manacles fled, rattling all the way until they vanished into the building.
The courtyard had gone so silent Cadmus could hear some of the closest people breathing. It reminded him far too much of being at a funeral. Harren took his arm, squeezing it gently, and led him inside the building, down several halls, and finally past a long row of holding cells, each occupied with one to four people, and into an area of heavy stone, where the bars on the cells were thick, dense, and heavily spelled.
Inside was a small cot with a pillow and two blankets, a small toilet area blocked off by a partition, and a couple of shelves for storing belongings.
Cadmus returned Harren's jacket and kissed his cheeks. "Thank you," he said, the words barely above a whisper. He then strode into the cell and straight to the bed, where he wrapped himself awkwardly in blankets. Settling on the floor next to his chest, he immediately fell asleep.
*~*~*
He woke to the smell of food: roasted griffon, steamed asparagus with spicy butter, lemon cake with sweet whipped cream and fresh strawberries. Fresh bread, street eggs redolent with anise, ginger, tea, and black sauce. Hot coffee, cold lemonade, and even wine.
Cadmus dragged his eyes open and slowly sat up, bundling the blankets close so he wouldn't show himself to more people than he already had. His head throbbed like someone had taken a rock to it, and his eyes were raw and puffy. He stared blearily through the bars, tr
ying to fully wake up, and finally registered that Serena and Temnis had come to see him. Serena held a basket that was close to collapsing under the weight of all the food it held. "Um. Hello."
"There are clothes there," Serena said. "Papa had me fetch them for you."
Following where she pointed, Cadmus saw the stack of neatly folded clothes and a jacket hanging on a hook, relief washing through him. "Thank you. If you'll give me a moment, I'll be right with you."
When Serena just smiled and waited, Temnis rolled his eyes and made her turn around as he did. Cadmus smothered a laugh and quickly dressed, feeling a bit more himself. "I am respectable, or at least respectably covered." In the light of day, his lingering anger and grief were doing battle with remorse and shame. "It is kind of you to come visit me. I do not suppose any of that food is for me?" He didn't deserve it, but he hoped all the same.
"Of course!" Serena said. "It's all for you. I'm just waiting for one of the stuffy guards to come and open the door so I can give it to you. Papa made certain that someone other than him ascertained all the contents were permitted. Since you're a low-risk prisoner, here for protection more than anything else really, even the wine in a glass bottle is allowed."
"You're all really far too kind," Cadmus said. "You shouldn't still be associating with me."
"I'm neither a police officer nor a judge. It's not my place to hand down judgment on your crimes," Temnis said. "Nor am I dragon who just had my hoard stolen. I've read stories of dragons in the past who had hoards stolen. This one, he was approximately a thousand years old, his hoard was enormous. Some mercenaries snuck into his castle, poisoned the water supply thinking it would kill everyone there, and stole his hoard. It took a hundred of them an entire day to move it all."
"Lord Issera," Cadmus whispered, curving his hands around the thick bars, cold and rough beneath his fingers. "He slaughtered all of them, razed the entire town where they were hiding, where everyone was enjoying the loot and laughing about getting one over on a stupid, greedy dragon." Tears spilled down his cheeks. "The poison finally killed him, but he died there amongst his scattered, stolen hoard." The whole mess was so tragic, they had called him 'Lord' posthumously as a show of respect and apology for all he and his people had suffered. He was so old and massive a dragon that instead of trying to bury him in traditional fashion, they'd burned him and his hoard right there where he'd died, the whole village. Then they'd dumped earth over what remained, sewn seeds, and the Tragedy of Lord Issera eventually became Issera Forest.
"There are a lot of stories like that," Serena said quietly, on the verge of tears. "It's horrible. A woman last year, she was raped by four men. Some poor little elf who never bothered anyone, not that it would matter if she had. Papa was so angry, especially when he figured out the culprits were lords, humans, and being protected by that bastard Calla and all his rich little cronies. Papa was livid. Anyway, the girl's father learned who they were, and he went and killed them himself. No one said anything. The man left the city, and no one even considered stopping him. Even the men's parents were silent, because everyone knew those bastards were heinous, and the man was justified, even if they'd been trying to protect them up until that point. I can tell you of a hundred other such cases just off the top of my head. Stealing a dragon's hoard is at least as awful a crime."
"Legally speaking, it is, in fact," Temnis added, pushing his glasses up his nose. "The stealing of a dragon's hoard is a capital offense, right up there with rape, murder, and the like. It's actually a class zero capital offense, because the stealing of a hoard endangers the whole public, the same way purposefully provoking someone inflicted with berserker sickness is illegal because it's well-established that once they are tipped into a berserker state, there is no way to stop them short of killing them, with rare exception. It's akin to murder, and often results in the deaths of multiple other persons. One berserker killed half an entire village before she was finally stopped. It was a tragedy. So I don't think you're the one to blame here, at least not wholly. Those men who stole your hoard knew what would happen, the danger they were putting themselves into and forcing upon others."
Before Cadmus could reply, not that he was certain what he would say, an officer came, key jingling from a ring in his hand. "You two need to step back from the bars. The rules are at least two paces back."
"He's not a dangerous prisoner, and Papa said we could visit him. I'm not going to spend my visit cowering against the wall," Serena snapped.
The officer just sighed and held out a hand for the basket. When Serena handed it over, he turned to Cadmus. "Sit on your bed, keep your hands where I can see them."
"Yes, sir." Cadmus obeyed, keeping his hands up and splayed. The officer unlocked and opened the door, set the basket inside, and immediately closed and locked the door again. Then he left without another word.
Serena wrinkled her nose. "Why is everyone being so tetchy?"
Temnis snorted and gave her a look. "Hmm, I wonder. Could it be because the Chief of Police's lover killed four people, burned down a house, a first rank trade ship, and is the reason there is now a full-out open war between the Police Commissioner and the Chief of Police, with the nobility and the government right in the middle of it?"
"All right, all right," Serena muttered. "Calla's had it coming a long time. I hope they finally remove him and pitch him in the river. Or a cesspool. Or a bonfire."
"Enough, you bloodthirsty brat." Temnis kissed her cheek and teased a curl that had slipped free of the simple knot she'd pulled her hair into. Seeing them together, Cadmus was baffled their fathers had ever thought they were simply two foolish young people who'd be better off friends. They were clearly in love—acted like old lovers, even. He smiled faintly.
But it was hard to focus on anything except that number. Four. The first was the footpad. Everyone else up until the ship he'd simply tried to scare off. So the other three must have been sailors. He had thrown the captain aside, hadn't he? The memory was hazy. Mostly he just remembered how much he'd hated the bastard, the way he'd been offended that Cadmus wanted his hoard back, because he'd already paid for it.
Part of him, most of him, was remorseful and ashamed. But there was a smaller part that was glad they were dead, glad they'd suffered so horribly for daring to steal his hoard. It was his. He'd found each piece, he loved them, cared for them, and found the homes for them in his creations.
Growling softly, needing suddenly to touch what little of his hoard he had regained, Cadmus fetched the chest and sat on the floor with it. Even the smell of food and the rumbling of his stomach, his aching head, could not pull him away from the need to take out each piece, touch and examine them, clean them as best he was able, and put them neatly away again, so everything was ordered and pretty and easy to find. Just like they'd been in his poor shop.
When he was finally done, he looked up and saw he was alone again, though when he glanced at the basket it was clear Serena had once again ignored protocol to tuck a pink envelope into it that smelled of her lovely rose and ylang ylang perfume.
He opened the envelope and tipped out an absolutely beautiful fire opal in a cabochon cut. It had the resonance of treasure as he held it tenderly in his cupped palm. His eyes stung with the thoughtfulness of the gesture. He carried it over to his chest, slipping it back into the envelope so that the fragile opal would not be damaged by all the gears.
Then he went to fetch the basket and finally eat.
Chapter Six
Cadmus spent three long, miserable days locked in that cell with only Temnis and Serena to occasionally keep him company. Serena brought him a couple more jewels. The first was a beautiful star sapphire that Cadmus kept in the inner pocket of his jacket, right next to his heart, at all times. She also brought a large piece of rose quartz that he dreamed of turning into the face of a pocket watch, with silver numbers and vine-and-flower gold hands, the casing porcelain set with more rose quartz carved into flowers with two tiny silver and gold pixies.
Serena would love it.
If only he could get to his workshop to create it. Soon, hopefully.
The one thing that really disheartened him, other than the continued absence of his hoard, was that neither Harren nor Sula had come to see him. To be fair, Harren probably couldn't. After the way he'd faced down Commissioner Calla, Harren was probably fighting for his job.
Sula was a bit more upsetting. Temnis came to see him, and he and Cadmus had never even properly met. Perhaps he only came because of Serena—but he always seemed so jovial and supportive.
Cadmus sighed and shifted to get more comfortable on the unyielding plank that was his cot. He missed his soft, downy bed at home. The quilt his first lover had made for him, which had survived decades and was one of the most precious items in his hoard. At least Vidner hadn't thought to take items like that. No, the stupid, greedy bastard had only been interested in his shop.
At least he'd never know Cadmus's secret. His only hope of learning it was to ask another dragon, or something infinitely more dangerous, like a demon, who'd be far more likely to make Vidner into a snack. Dragons would sooner die than betray each other in such a way.
Cadmus wanted to kill Vidner himself, shatter every damn bone in his slimy body and listen to him whimper in pain right before he died. He hated himself for it, but even now the bastard was fondling his hoard, looking desperately for a secret that wasn't his to take, pawing and touching, throwing things out, breaking others, probably selling most of it.
He took a deep breath and tried to think about something else. Serena had been kind enough to bring him some writing supplies and books, and he turned to the paper once more, fine tuning sketches and details for pieces he wanted to work on the moment he was able.
Above all else he wanted to complete his pieces for Harren and Sula: two separate pieces that combined into a greater whole.
The piece for Harren would be of a man sitting at a table looking over papers and drinking coffee. Getting the figurine to lift the coffee should be relatively simple. Shuffling the papers would be a bit more tricky, but Cadmus was looking forward to trying. His table would also have a little vase filled with flowers.
