by Arthur Slade
“Oh, please,” I said. “Don’t call him that. It will go to his head.”
“I am giving him proper respect. He is a dragon. From a royal line of dragons.”
“You could learn a lot from Dyn.” Brax bumped me with his tail and I had to grab the side of the barge to keep from falling over. “Proper respect would be the first lesson and you might even pick up a few cooking skills, too. Assassins are horrible chefs.”
“If you think I will cook your meals, you’re sadly mistaken.”
“Lucky for you I prefer meat with the heart still beating, or I would have made gathering parsnips and spices part of our contract.” He moved his wings under the tarp. “Ah, the control is coming back. This water, the heat, is a great help. It's like being in a traveling spa. Again, good work, Dyn.”
“I am extremely pleased that you are pleased, my lord,” he said.
I almost vomited over the side at this display of obsequiousness and decided it best to change the topic. “Does that mean you'll be able to fly soon?”
“Yes, soon,” Brax said. “But this barge is a much better way to travel. In the skies there are eyes watching all the time. But the tarp, the darkness and the fog are keeping my presence hidden. And the longer I stay hidden, the longer we will live.”
We had traveled a great distance in what felt to be a relatively short time. The fog shifted enough to reveal the distant banks. There was no snow there; in fact now there were tufts of grass. It was if we'd traveled from the deepest winter to the beginning of spring in only a few hours.
In time we came to a place where the river forked into several branches. “That way is the village of Vorki,” Dyn said. “If you want, you can let me off at the nearest shore and I can walk the rest of the way. I am certain that Master Carmen knows enough to steer the boat.”
“Don’t call me master,” I said.
"I am only being respectful," Dyn said. Though this time I wasn't certain if he was being sarcastic or not. He had a sly smile.
“Do you want to go to the village?” Brax asked.
“In all honesty, my lord dragon, I have never felt so alive as I have in these last few hours. The village is a drab place.”
“Well, I worry about Carmen’s navigating skills,” Brax said. “She's not so good with directions. You can remain with us, Dyn.”
“I can?" Dyn clapped me on the shoulder, now grinning. "Oh, my lord dragon, it would be an honor.”
“Then take us to Dreki,” Brax said. “If I can put up with one human, I can put up with two.”
12
Not Caves
It was a few more hours before light grew brighter in the east and the tendrils of fog withdrew, revealing a land of tall grasses and wide plains. The sun was rising on country that few mortals had ever seen. Although, that was wrong, because with Dyn beside me it was clear mortals had been here, enslaved, for hundreds if not thousands of years.
“So,” I said. “The first time Brax mentioned Dreki, you seemed—how shall I put it?—disturbed. What is Dreki? Some sort of nest or caves where dragons live?”
“Nest?" Dyn stared at me for a long time as if I was the stupidest girl he'd ever seen. "Dreki is the greatest of the dragon cities where the greatest of the dragon lords live. It's the capital."
“Dragons live in cities?” I said. “But… but I thought—”
“You thought what?” Brax interrupted. “Oh, let me explain your feeble thoughts, Carmen. You believed that dragons were uncivilized and only lived in caves?”
“Well, I found you in a cave. And the white dragon was in a cave and… in books they mention caves…”
“Your books? You have spent most of your life inside those books." Brax turned his head toward me and part of the tarp came off, revealing what I recognized as anger on his face. "The outcast or adventurous dragons who came to Ellos had no other place to live. It’s not like you mortals would invite them to take up residence in one of your castles. But because of what you read and saw, you assumed that dragons only live in caves? That we are not capable of building our own society? That these talons couldn’t shape stone?” He lifted an arm, displaying a shining talon.
“It was a valid conclusion,” I said. “There was nothing in the literature to suggest you could build cities. Are they like… like anthills?”
“Now you compare us to insects?” Brax spat.
"Oh dear," Dyn said. "Oh, dear."
Ugh! I had stuck my whole boot in my mouth. Perhaps the only thing worse than riding an angry dragon was having to share a barge with one. He swerved his tail and bumped me again, and Dyn caught me before I went over the side. He held me straight, then backed away in case the tail snapped out again. “Brax! Was that on purpose?” I asked.
“Was what on purpose?” Brax said. "Oh, no, not at all." I noted that he’d failed to say sorry. “But you need a bath.”
“What?” I glanced at Dyn, who somehow had perfect hair and continued to smell pleasantly of sandalwood. Then I shot a glare at Brax. “I don’t.”
“Well your mind does,” he said. “At the very least.”
I didn’t know what he meant by that, but I decided not to pursue the conversation any further. He got riled up much easier now that we were in his homeland.
“I have only seen Dreki once,” Dyn said a few minutes later. There was a tone of wonder to his voice. “When the great lord dragon Darius was summoned to the city for his assignment to the northern wards, I traveled with him. On this barge. I cleaned him and oiled his scales and prepared him for meeting the dragon king.”
“My dear ol' dad,” Brax added.
“Yes. That’s right, my lord.” Dyn was staring at Brax with such awe it was almost humorous.
“And what did you see?” I asked. "Please explain this dragon city so my simple mortal mind can understand."
“Oh, there is so much!" Dyn took his hands off the tiller to gesture to the skies. "It is the grandest city of all. The domes of Lindwurm are nothing compared to Dreki. Nor are the glistening sapphire temples of Tineen. I cannot describe Dreki. You will see it. And you will be amazed. Even the sky bows down to Dreki."
"It is impressive," Brax added.
"My lord is correct. I didn’t see the king. Or the inside of the palace. I stayed on the barge in the port with the other slaves, but even that vantage point was enough to be astounded by the vision of what the great lord dragons had created. Dreki is the jewel of the dragon lands. It is thousands and thousands of years old. Some say the dragons themselves came from the lava pits of Dreki. But the buildings, the walls, the god temples—”
“Dragons worships gods?” I said.
“Oh, yes, yes,” Dyn said. “But the dragons are also the gods.”
“That makes little sense,” I said.
“It makes perfect sense,” Dyn said slowly. He seemed surprised that someone would challenge him on such a thought. “Dreki is where all the most powerful of the dragons live. The strongest of the strong. And the greatest of the slaves live there, too.”
“Aren’t all slaves—I mean, I don’t know how this works—the same?” I asked.
“No. The slaves who serve in Dreki serve the strongest and most royal clans of all dragons. And they are greater because of it. They are the highest of slaves. It is the hope of every slave that his or her master ascends to Dreki.”
Dyn was looking to the sky as if he were imagining staring at some invisible city. “It is the height of glory to serve one’s master in Dreki. The very height.”
It was such a different way of thinking. “See what has happened to him,” Brax said. “A life of servitude has shaped his dreams.”
“Does everyone dream this?" I asked. "All these slaves, I mean people, wish only to serve the dragons?”
“Wise servers of the scales have these dreams," Dyn said. "There was a slave rebellion once many years before my birth, but they hung their flaming bodies from crosses along the outskirts of Dreki and in all four directions for a hundred mi
les. You can still see the crosses.”
“It is perhaps best not to know our history,” Brax said. “It is long in the tooth and sharp, as my mother used to say. And speaking of sharp, I want both of you to be sharp. For we are nearing the great jewel Dreki.”
His words were truth, for in the distance along the horizon appeared many great and tall spires reaching to the heavens.
13
Pain Thrice Over
My jaw dropped.
We were still a great distance from the city of Dreki, and it deserved every glowing word that Dyn had used. For rising up, as if carved from a mountain, were at least a thousand stony spires that reached hundreds and hundreds of feet in the air. Atop each of the spires were platforms and domed buildings that glittered in greens and reds and blues as if some creature carved them from jewels. The city looked like nothing a human mind could have created, for the size of the dragons meant that each dwelling was gigantic.
Using my dragon eye I spotted hundreds of dragons winging from one platform to another, the sky full of sizes and shapes I’d never dreamed of. Just that alone was enough to make my bones shake and stomach churn.
“That is where I grew up,” Brax said. “My birthplace, and every single one of those dragons would kill me in a heartbeat. Just in case you were feeling safe and secure, Carmen.”
Neither of those words described my feelings. Awe. Petrifying fear. Each slipped through my mind, but none encapsulated what I saw and felt.
I had the feeling we were moving toward absolute power. It was the most formidable place I had ever seen, much stronger and more ancient than Akkadium. This many dragons. This capital that would be impossible for mortal men to build. It seemed to dare the very sky.
“We are going right into the heart of it,” Brax said.
The river widened, and I saw now that several tributaries fed into a large lake that reflected the dragon capital. And on those tributaries were hundreds of barges and ships going back and forth, bringing goods to this vast city. One passed near us and Brax slipped his head back under the tarp.
“We will die,” I said. The words came out without me meaning to say them aloud.
“Oh, ye of such tiny faith," the tarp muffled Brax's voice. "You look upon the might of Dreki and think I, a mere mortal, cannot face this. I see the place I grew up. The grime in each dragon’s heart. The bonds that were broken. The politics that bit by bit is bringing our land to its knees. I know every corner of that city, every crevice.”
“But there is no way we can get inside there without being spotted,” I said. “They’ll tear us to shreds.”
“Correction,” Brax said. “They will tear the two of you into shreds. I will be captured and tortured. If you think taking out my eye was painful—and it was—it will be the same pain thrice over every day for fifty or a hundred years. Only then will they let me die.”
Dyn was saying nothing, looking from me to Brax to the city. He had seen it before but again was stunned speechless.
“And there is someone in that city you have a vendetta against?” I asked.
“Many someones. But only one in particular who will involve you and your blades. You will help me with that task and then you will be free.”
“We will be free,” I corrected.
“Yes, that is what I meant. We will be free. But don’t you wish we were just facing the emperor and his measly forces now?”
I nodded. The emperor was nothing compared to the power of this place. Brax’s father was the king of every amazing thing laid out before me.
“Take us to the shore.” One of Brax's talons extruded from beneath the tarp, pointing. “We will not be going straight into the mouth of my enemies.”
“Oh, good,” Dyn said. It was the first time he’d spoken since we’d approached the city, and he was as pale as I looked.
He guided us to the edge of the lake and rammed the barge as far onto the shore as possible so we could step off onto solid ground. Brax flexed his wings and the tarp fell off him, then he walked off the boat. “Get your gear,” he said. “We will hope the ash covers us from prying eyes.”
I didn’t know what ash he was referring to, but grabbed my haversack and threw it over my shoulder. Dyn pounded in a stake and tied the barge to it, then joined me as we followed Brax up the embankment and onto level land.
Ash was falling from the sky like snow.
The ragged, rocky landscape in front of us was on fire. There were pools of molten rock and the occasional geysers that shot smoke and choking gases into the air. Brax was walking directly toward it all.
“The Burning Bowels,” Dyn said. At first I thought he was referencing some stomach illness, then saw he was staring at our path.
“Oh, that’s a pretty name.” I wasn’t certain I could walk through there without either choking or burning to death. Already Brax was a gray shadow ahead of us, and we followed him down the rocky path. I sped up until I was walking alongside him. My eyes began to tear up from the gas.
“Where exactly are we going?” I asked.
“Into the smoke,” he said. “I believe that’s obvious.”
“I mean after this. It might be good to know in case one of us doesn't make it. We’re already losing Dyn.”
He was out of earshot but his coughing still echoed in our ears. “The slave can stay back on the barge.” Brax thought for a moment. “Or maybe I should kill him since his presence might alert them.”
“What? You can’t do that?” I said.
“I’m just going through all the options. Isn’t that what they taught you in assassin school?”
“They also teach us to have a code of honor." I pinched my nostrils shut with my fingers.
“I guess your brother missed those lessons.”
“Don’t mention him!” Again my mind's eye conjured an image of him unconscious on the back of a swan flying west. I hoped to never see him again. “You don’t know what it’s like to have a brother like that.”
“Oh, how little you know, Carmen Crow. Though my brother was nothing like yours, that is true.”
“You have a brother?” I said.
“Again, you never asked and it is none of your business, anyway.”
“Well,” I said. His being a grump was growing tiresome. “One thing that is my business is our mission. I would like to know what your plan is. Because if we get separated—”
I stopped in mid-sentence and mid-step because a sparrow had just flapped down onto my shoulder.
“What’s this?” Brax said. He turned to face me.
“A bird landed on me,” I said. It was staring at me through beady, impertinent eyes.
“Eat it,” Brax said.
The sparrow glared at him, and I had the odd feeling that he understood the words. Or maybe sparrows didn’t like dragons because his feathery features were filled with contempt. The bird turned and stared at me.
“Are you Carmen of the Red Assassins?” the sparrow asked. His voice was small and familiar.
And for the second time that morning, my jaw dropped.
14
What the Sparrow Said
The bird kept eyeing me with its dark, intelligent eyes.
“What in the twelve burning hells of Bekla is this?” I asked.
“It’s a sparrow,” Brax said. “That’s obvious, is it not?”
“I know it’s a sparrow. But did you…” Something just dawned on me. “Did you hear it talk?”
“Hear what talk?” Dyn had just joined us, his face gray from exertion and coughing. “Oh, you have a bird on your shoulder.”
“Did you hear it talk?” I repeated.
“Yes,” Brax said. “It’s a spell bird. And it’s been sent to you. Are you going to answer it?”
The bird had kept its eyes on me the whole time, though its head twisted back and forth in that sharp, quick way of a bird who constantly expects a cat to jump on it. Or a dragon.
“I—I guess I will.” I looked down at the sparrow. �
�I am Carmen Dore of the Red Assassins.”
“I have a message,” the sparrow said.
“It’s talking!” Dyn shouted, and the bird gave him an angry glance.
“I have a message for you, Carmen Dore of the Red Fortress,” the sparrow said.
“Who would send me a message?”
Before either of my companions answered the bird said, “the message is from Thord of Woden. Are you listening?”
Thord! He was thinking of me. Would it be something kind? Would he profess something embarrassing that Brax would tease me about? I pictured Thord as if he were standing right there. Funny how my mind made the wind tousle his hair. Funny how—
“Are you listening?” the sparrow asked in an imperious manner.
“Yes, I am listening,” I said. "I'm listening!"
“Good." The sparrow cleared its throat. "The message is as follows.” And this was where I nearly fell over, because the bird began to talk in Thord’s voice. It was a much smaller sound and higher pitched, but clearly his tone and timbre. “Carmen. This is Thord. I have sent you this spell bird to warn you that… that… well, I hope you’re not in the north. I hope you're in a safe place. The emperor has struck a blow against Woden. His forces attacked the day of the feast, before we had even tried to kill him. And my—my homeland has fallen. My home. My parents. Well, I don’t know what has become of them, but war has come to Ellos. Megan and I are in Avenus and working together to help. But I just wanted you to know that … that…”
The bird moved its head back and forth several times, saying nothing.
“That what?” I asked.
The bird cleared its throat, but it sounded like Thord clearing his own throat. “… that we are safe. And I hope the same for you. Be safe.” The sparrow paused again. “Be safe. Goodbye.”
I wasn’t sure what I had hoped for him to say. I waited, but the bird only stared at me. “Is there something I can do for you?" it asked. "Do you have a reply?”
