Dragon-Ridden

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Dragon-Ridden Page 21

by T. A. White


  “I can’t help it if you’re heavy.”

  “Heavy?” she asked scandalized, her voice getting louder. “I’m not heavy. You’re just a runt.”

  Quiet you two. You’ll attract the Tsuchigon with your arguing.

  Chapter Twelve

  For Tate, the trip through the tunnel passed in a blur. Her energy faded quickly after Dewdrop and Night found her, and she had to rely on them more and more, with Dewdrop supporting most of her weight. At some point she must have drifted off because they had reached a dark nook that separated the surface from the catacombs without her having any recollection of how the journey to get there. Tate stirred when Dewdrop nudged her awake. Blearily she looked around and leaned wearily against the stone. Her wounds were already beginning to fade into one overarching ache. All she wanted was to find a horizontal surface and sleep for a very long time.

  I think this is where I leave you.

  She roused enough to give him a tired smile. “You kept your promise.”

  As did you.

  “Where will you go now?”

  We’ll have to find new territory, perhaps deeper in the catacombs. The Red Lady has taken over much of our territory, and I don’t want to chance another encounter.

  Tate studied him with unblinking eyes. Perhaps it was the exhaustion or going through a really terrible experience, but she wasn’t quite ready to part with him yet. She did something she normally wouldn’t. “You can come with me if you’d like. I mean, if you want.”

  Come with you? He sounded unsure but not unwilling, more like he was testing the thought out.

  Tate nodded liking the idea more each second. “Yeah. Living underground can’t be good for your cubs. Up there are open skies and plenty of good hunting— animals, not people. Or we can just make sure we buy food.”

  Night’s whiskers pointed out and then back as he thought over her suggestion. Tate was content to let him. She’d done all she intended to with the offer. Any more was up to him.

  A thought occurred to her. “Wait. I don’t know the city well and don’t know anywhere we can go.”

  With her muscles aching and exhaustion dragging at her, walking all over the city simply wasn’t going to happen. She looked down at herself. She had no shirt and was covered in blood. Yeah. No inn would rent to her looking like this even if she had money.

  “I know how to get to Ryu’s,” Dewdrop volunteered.

  Tate looked up not quite sure if that was a good thing or not. Until recently he’d been part of the enemy camp and what he knew Lucius probably knew. “Does Lucius know where Ryu lives?”

  Dewdrop considered, tilting his head. “I doubt it. I was the only one fast enough to follow you up onto the roofs when you escaped Blade, and I never had the chance to tell the others.”

  It was a risk to take everybody back to Ryu’s place, but there weren’t a lot of alternatives. She had no money to get a room and even if she did, Night and company probably wouldn’t be able to come. She wasn’t an expert on this city, but since she hadn’t seen any feline’s as big as humans walking around, she assumed he’d draw attention. Most of the party was injured or too young to climb up onto the roofs. That left Ryu’s.

  Tate wasn’t quite ready to see Ryu in the same light as Umi. It was possible he’d sent her down into the catacombs as a sacrifice, but she wouldn’t believe it, not without talking to him first. She also needed to inform him of the event of the last few hours and with any luck get her money back. As far as she was concerned she didn’t owe him any more favors and had earned every penny of her purse. After that, she could disappear if she needed to and find somewhere else in the city to rest until this all blew over. One thing was clear, however. She had no intention of leaving Aurelia until she’d talked to Ai again. If she had to brave murderous crime lords and an irate former captain then so be it.

  “Alright. Dewdrop, if you’d be so kind as to get us to Ryu’s,” Tate said.

  “On one condition.” He held up a finger. “You let me stay with you too.”

  Tate hesitated.

  “Also, he has to come with us,” Dewdrop said pointing over his shoulder.

  Tate squinted as the last member of their party came into the light. “What’s he doing here?” She tried to scramble to her feet but ended up only falling onto her side.

  “We rescued him from the punishment cells.”

  “Well, he can’t come with us.”

  “He has nowhere else to go,” Dewdrop pointed out. “And he’s hurt.”

  Tate glared impotently up at Dewdrop. The youth held all the cards and knew it. All the arguing in the world wouldn’t change that. He was going to win and fighting about it would only prolong Tate having to stay conscious.

  She flapped a hand weakly. “Fine. He can come, but he’s you’re responsibility.” Dewdrop pumped his hand in victory. “I expect to hear the entire story when I’m rested. Oh, and I get the bed”

  “I can live with that,” he said, reaching down and pulling her to her feet.

  They stepped out of their little hole and into a warmly glowing cavern that was nearly tall as it was long. It soared high above their heads, so high that the roof was partially lost to shadow. Nature had created a gentle recess in the cliffs eroding it little by little over the course of a thousand years. What weather may have once started, human hands had taken one step further by erecting sweeping walls that arched up to meet the natural stone ceiling along with other human touches in the chamber. The resultant creation was half natural wonder and half human ingenuity. They’d taken the materials nature had provided them and made a masterpiece with it.

  “Where are we?” Tate whispered in awe.

  Night shook his head, as lost as her.

  “It’s a temple dedicated to the Saviors,” Dewdrop said, pulling her along when she tried to stop and look around.

  It was more than that. It was a piece of art. Four large statues had been carved into alcoves, each with candles glittering with flame at their feet. Their faces towered high above their worshipers, almost touching the ceiling. Benches, where people could rest while in the midst of prayers, were arranged in neat rows at the feet of each monument.

  The footsteps of Tate’s group were muted in this vast space as if it was too holy for mundane noise to tarnish. An air of calmness and serenity lay over the cavern touching Tate’s soul on a visceral level. Even the dragon stopped pacing up and down her arm since her rescue paused and to take in the atmosphere.

  Tate peered at the statue closest to her, inexplicably fascinated. The male god hadn’t been carved elsewhere and then placed in his alcove. Instead, the statue had been carved directly from the rock. He towered above them, and if Tate had been standing at its base it would have been impossible to discern its individual features. Given her distance from it she could see the impact of the whole, from his loose clothing to his features worn smooth by time.

  Her mouth parted at the sense of bone deep recognition she felt as she examined his face. She couldn’t get over the fact that she’d seen this face before. Somewhere, somehow. It hadn’t been when she was on the Marauder. She’d have remembered that. This recognition came from before. But when?

  Distantly she was aware of Dewdrop halting, as a man stopped him, “Travelers, may the Saviors smile upon your journey. I can’t help but feel you may be in need of help at this late hour.” His eyes strayed to Tate’s form draped over Dewdrop’s back. She was utterly absorbed in the statue and took no notice.

  While Dewdrop explained they were just passing through, Tate puzzled over the face as she tryed to remember. Where had she seen that face before?

  She gasped. Her dream. It was the face from her dream. “Jax?” she whispered almost soundlessly.

  She shook her head slightly. It wasn’t possible. The man from her dream was no god, just a regular flesh and blood person that may or may not have been real.

  At the name the man made an abrupt movement and eyed Tate sharply taking quick note of her p
acing dragon and lack of dress. Dewdrop’s arms tightened around her, and he shifted back.

  At Dewdrop’s movement Tate focused on the man in front of her, sensing danger. For a moment he looked startled at the sight of her, but the look was fleeting and immediately smoothed into a neutral pleasantness. His actions sparked Tate’s curiosity and led her to ask sharply, “Do you know me, sir?”

  She thought he was going to respond yes, until he bowed formerly and said, “I’m afraid not, Traveler.”

  She regarded him suspiciously before losing interest. Oh well, it had been a long shot. Meeting Ai had made Tate paranoid and convinced clues to her past lay in every new meeting. She wanted to laugh at her naivety. Her past wouldn’t be so easily discovered.

  She turned back to the statues. They really were masterpieces of human talent. Their faces actually looked like they had seen the march of time and unlocked the secrets of life. It would have taken years to carve a single one, let alone all of them.

  “Do our monuments to the Saviors please you?” the man asked.

  Tate made a noncommittal sound. She’d never paid much attention to the religion of this world she’d found herself in and was largely unaware of the myths and stories concerning them.

  “Why do you call them Saviors?” Tate asked.

  By no word or action did the man let them know if he thought her question strange. “They saved us when our creators would have enslaved and destroyed us.”

  She looked back at the statue. “Was a model used for its face, or did they simply guess at what the god looked like?”

  “No, Traveler, his face is based on records we have from when he walked this planet.”

  “So not a god,” Tate mused.

  The man smiled softly and opened his hands. “Whether they started as Gods, I do not know, but it is believed that they still guide us with their wisdom and teachings. They are thought to have been created by the universe at a time when the first people needed them most.”

  “People don’t worship just the Saviors,” Dewdrop told her. “Any ancestor can provide wisdom and protection and each family has their own set they look to for guidance and prayer. Everybody worships the saviors, though, no matter what country they live in.”

  Tate’s eyes were drawn back to the four statues whose lives had had such an impact on the world around them. “They must have been some amazing people.”

  The man nodded gently. “Indeed.”

  She attempted to bow, but since Dewdrop still supported much of her weight it was more of an awkward incline of the head. “I meant no disrespect, sir, with my questions and if I’ve offended you in any way I apologize. I am a stranger here and do not know the customs.”

  His eyes were watchful as Tate straightened. He didn’t seem overly disturbed by her lack of dress nor the blood that had dried on her skin. More, it seemed as if he was analyzing her, comparing her to some picture in his head.

  “Please forgive her, Guardian. Pain has loosened the bonds she normally keeps on her tongue,” Dewdrop added.

  Tate shot him a glance. He was a surprise in a night full of them. At first she’d thought he was just some generic pickpocket, but now she found him speaking intelligently and respectfully with an entirely different sort of person than he’d normally meet in his street life.

  Through it all, Night crouched behind them shielding his cubs from the man’s gaze while Tempest kept his head bowed. Both seemed content to let the two of them carry the conversation.

  She’d lost track of the conversation again as she pondered the many mysteries of Dewdrop and was startled when the man bowed shortly in dismissal.

  She couldn’t help a sense of loss at leaving the cavern for she hadn’t finished with the statues. Casting one last look at the one that reminded her of Jax, she supposed given its size it wouldn’t be going anywhere. When she had healed and didn’t feel like a half dead lump of meat, she’d come back and study them more.

  Her eyes caught briefly on the man who had stopped them. He’d stopped and turned to watch as they limped their way out of the holy space.

  She leaned her head against Dewdrops shoulder. “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?”

  “Looks like I’m not the only one,” he said, pinching her tattoo.

  “Ouch, can’t you see that I’m wounded here?”

  His laugh wheezed from him in an out-of-breath pant. “You talk an awful lot for someone who’s supposed to be hurt.”

  “Just trying to stay distracted.” She moaned as a movement jostled her. “It’s not the pain that’s killing me, though that’s bad enough. It just feels like someone sapped all the strength from my body. I don’t understand it.”

  They had finally made it to the end of the chamber and back onto Aurelia’s streets. Chilled air caressed Tate’s exposed skin making her shiver. It was dark outside, the kind that comes right before the dawn. All three moons had already set so there was no moonlight to show their surroundings. Already portions of the sky had started to lighten, but it would be an hour or more before the sun was fully up.

  It’s the mind meld, Night said. It saps your energy in a way physical torture doesn’t because your mind’s been violated. It’ll get worst over the next couple of hours, but with plenty of rest, the effects should wear off in a day or two.

  After that, the rest of the journey was made in silence. Tate was too tired to carry on a conversation and Dewdrop was out of breath from having to support her. She was content to let the boys decide the best route back to her room, while she drifted in and out of consciousness.

  Every time she blinked the scenery would shift, and she’d be in a place different from before. It was during one of those long blinks that she found herself in the stairwell leading up to the apartment.

  She shook herself awake. It was an effort and already she could feel herself starting to fade again.

  You said you knew where she lived, Night rumbled.

  “I do,” Dewdrop said. “I just don’t know which apartment is hers.”

  “How does that help us then?”

  They’d stand there all night arguing if Tate let them. Fortunately, she had other plans.

  “Boys.” She said it again louder when it seemed they were going to continue their conversation. She pointed with a shaky finger to Ryu’s door.

  They stumbled their way down the hall, making enough noise to wake the dead. Once there, Dewdrop let Tate slide down to a sitting position. She tilted sideways until she was lying on the floor, her eyelids felt like they had weights attached to them.

  Someone shook Tate awake and she blinked blearily up at him. Dewdrop’s face was so concerned, she thought as her eyes slid close again.

  “Tate. Tate. TATE,” he shouted.

  She woke with a start, looking around. They were in a hall. What were they doing here?

  Tate tried to think but it proved impossible. The last thing she remembered was a door opening and a pair of boots stopping in front of her. Then the blackness reached up and swallowed her whole.

  She stumbled down a hallway, the lights flashing angrily. Her leg was broken, but she couldn’t stop. She was being hunted. Terror beat at her as she fell once more. She crawled a few meters, sobs choking her throat, before pushing herself back to her feet. Only death awaited her here. She needed to get out, back to the others. To Jax, and Suse, Kenneth and Trace. She couldn’t die here. They were waiting. She’d promised she’d get out. She’d promised.

  She turned a corner. The beast was gaining on her. It had killed the rest, absorbing them into it somehow. Now, it targeted her. What had these people create? A monster, that’s what. It had eaten them and now all of her team. Its designers were fools mostly, bent on creating a better race, a better weapon. Oh, it didn’t matter now. Their arrogance had killed them.

  A roar shook the air. It must have discovered her little trap. That would only slow it down for a little while but every second counted. She turned another corner and came to a dead end. No.
This couldn’t be, there were supposed to be two more turns and then she’d be at the escape hatch.

  The ground shook as the labs exploded. Good. She hoped their research died with them. Most of the experiments had already been rescued, all that was left were dangerous ones that couldn’t be allowed to survive, and the final blast should take care of those.

  She turned back the way she’d come. She’d just taken a wrong turn. She’d backtrack and find the right one. She still had time.

  Her next turn led her into a sterile chamber that had been used to put the experiments into slumber. One had already been prepped and lay in its tube, mortally wounded. Blood pooled beneath it from an unclosed incision. Its wings draped oddly around it like they had been broken.

  “Chamber will be closing in twenty seconds.”

  She needed to leave! But what about the wounded body? If she left it, the explosion would kill it.

  She hurried over to it and picked it up, turning to make her way out of the chamber.

  “Chamber door closing.”

  She watched, horrified, as her only exit shut, sealing her inside.

  “No. No. NO. NONONO,” she screamed, limping over to it and pounding on the glass with a fist. “Let me out. You can’t do this. Let me OUT!!!”

  With a start and heart pounding, Tate sat up in bed, startling the two cubs sleeping beside her. They lifted their heads and blinked at her, their feline eyes still hazy with sleep. With a yawn that showed their cat-like tongues, they snuggled back down and drifted off to sleep.

  “Unpleasant dreams?” Ryu sat up straight from where he’d been napping in one of his chairs.

  She blinked at him. “How did you get in here?”

  “This is my room.” He crossed his arms and leaned back on the chair’s legs.

  Oh right. She’d forgotten that she’d told the others to get her to him.

  She vaguely remembered passing out at the end just as someone opened the door. She didn’t remember what came after that, though.

  “Where’s Night and Dewdrop?” she asked.

 

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