Secret of the Dragon

by Jessica Drake

  “We’ve given you what you want,” a man with thinning brown hair and a scar slashed over his left cheekbone said. “What news do you have for us? When are we finally going to strike back at the Zallabarians? I’m tired of all this sitting around and talking. What about some action?”

  “What, you mean stealing supplies and recruiting rebels isn’t dangerous enough?” Oron snorted.

  “We don’t yet have the manpower to strike at the Zallabarians,” the Lieutenant said sternly. “That’s why we’re working so hard to recruit more members. That said,” she added, turning toward me, “it would be nice to hear some good news, Commandant.”

  I nodded. “All I can say is we’re making good progress,” I told them. “We annihilated a Zallabarian fleet a few days ago that tried to take Polyba, and we’ve got units out hitting camps and munitions depots to help weaken the enemy when we make our stand. If our mission succeeds, we’ll be able to deal a decisive blow to the enemy. All of you need to be alert and ready to act at any moment.” I met each of their gazes. “If all goes according to plan, I expect the tide to turn in our favor very quickly.”

  Excitement rippled through the room like a live electrical current.

  “And what happens after all this?” a curvy woman with killer green eyes demanded. “We can’t go back to the way things were before, Commandant. The council members who abandoned us like cowards can’t be allowed to take their positions back. They don’t deserve it.”

  “Damn right they don’t,” a bald man shouted, banging his fist on the table. “They left us without so much as a defense plan and ran off to their vacation homes!”

  The other rebels began shouting their objections too, and Tavarian held up a hand to restore order. "Enough!" His authoritative voice briefly quieted them, and he spoke quickly before they could start up again. "I agree with you that we cannot go back to the way things were. We plan to create a new government run by officials who represent all Elantians, and not just the dragon riders or the wealthy. We do not wish to make the same mistakes of the past, mistakes that led us here.” He gestured to the dim cellar around us.

  “We also won’t let traitors like Sebur Nole remain in power either, once we take back the country,” I said. “Anyone who is willing to sell out their fellow countrymen for a bit of gold isn’t fit to lead.”

  “Hear, hear,” the blonde said.

  "That's all well and good," the Lieutenant said, "but let's not get ahead of ourselves. First we have to win the war. We can worry about who is going to run the country and how afterward." She turned to Tavarian and me. "Is there anything else you need?"

  “No,” Tavarian said. “Thank you very much for your help.”

  We bid the rebels goodbye, then slipped out into the night again. Our work was far from done, and we didn’t have a lot of time to implement the next stage of our plan.

  11

  Getting back to the Upper City was a pain in the ass. We'd initially planned on staying overnight in the Lower City, since curfew was so strictly enforced, but now that we had a solid plan on whose identities to steal, Tavarian insisted we seek out Nole at once.

  Sticking to the shadows, we made our way back to the bottom of the mesa. On our way, we looked for guards to impersonate, but most of them were patrolling in well-lit areas, which made it too risky for us to nab one.

  “Hey, Landon,” a guard barked. He and his partner were patrolling the street perpendicular to the alley Tavarian and I were hiding in, too far away for us to see but loud enough to hear. “Would you quit your squirming?”

  “I can’t help it,” the other whined. “I had too much ale at dinner. My bladder’s about to burst!”

  “Well, go take a leak, then! And be quick about it. I don’t need to be explaining to the captain why you aren’t at your post if he comes by to check on us!”

  The other guard hurried toward our alley, heading straight for the dumpster we were hiding behind. He stopped on the other side of the dumpster and unbuttoned his trousers in preparation to relieve himself.

  Tavarian pressed a finger to his lips, and he snuck around behind the man. “Mmmph!” The guard tried to yell out as Tavarian clamped his glowing hand around the man’s mouth. He caught him in a vise-like grip, holding the guard against him as the magic did its work, and five seconds later, the man slumped, snoring.

  “Landon?” the other guard shouted as Tavarian and I dragged the unconscious man back to the other side of the dumpster, out of sight of the alley. “What the bleeding hell is taking you so long?”

  I hurriedly stripped the guard of his weapons and clothes—rifle strapped to his back, pistol and sword hanging at his waist, rumpled uniform complete with fresh ale stains—while Tavarian took care of the second guard, who was coming into the alley to investigate. The guard’s clothing was a bit big on me—the legs too long, the shoulders too wide—but Tavarian used his magic to adjust it, and also to match my face and voice to the guard.

  “Let’s go,” he said in a gravelly voice that was identical to the second guard’s. He now sported a thick mustache and a narrow face. “Don’t forget your new name.”

  Right. Landon.

  We approached the elevators, and I gave a friendly nod to the guards standing outside them. They let us up without incident, but the pair waiting at the top stopped us.

  “Private Klein,” one said as we stepped off the elevator, sounding surprised. “What are you doing up here? Your shift isn’t over yet.”

  “We’ve been reassigned,” Tavarian said. “Captain’s ordered us on security detail at Blakely Hall.”

  “Ahh.” The guard stepped aside. “Yeah, I heard he was ordering extra security there to throw off the rebels. As if the autocrator would stay in a hovel like that.” He winked. “Make sure to look extra vigilant tonight.”

  Tavarian and I laughed and moved on. Blakely Hall was an upscale venue on Dragon’s Table the wealthy often rented out for events, and had been on his list as one of several possible locations for the autocrator to stay in, so we could strike it off now. I wondered if the autocrator was secretly already in the city. If I were in charge of security, I’d have had him land outside, then smuggled him in as a commoner. But then again, maybe he wanted to make a grand entrance. I guessed we’d find out soon enough.

  Nole’s mansion was on the west side of the Upper City, where most of the dragon rider mansions were located. There were only two guards posted outside, and Tavarian knew the house and the original owners well, so he led us around to a servants’ entrance on the side. One twist with my magical lockpick, and we were in.

  “Well, at least Nole hasn’t sold everything off,” Tavarian whispered as we crept through the house. My treasure sense chimed rapidly as we passed room after room filled with priceless furniture and art, and I was forced to dampen it once more so I wouldn’t lose my sanity. “The original owners will be happy to hear that, once we win the war and return the house to them.”

  I smiled inwardly at his optimism, wishing I shared it. It wasn’t that I didn’t think we would win the war—the chances were slim, but we did have a chance—but I doubted Zuar City would come out unscathed. I imagined the collaborators who had so gleefully betrayed their country would rather see these mansions burn than be returned to dragon rider hands. The only saving grace was that at least these weren’t ancestral homes—merely the residences the dragon rider families kept in Zuar City. Their family estates were scattered all across the country.

  It wasn’t hard to find Nole’s room; we simply followed the snoring. My spelled boots kept my movements silent, and Tavarian used his magic on the door to make sure the hinges were soundless as we opened it. The master bedroom beyond was cavernous, with a row of windows to the left allowing a flood of moonlight to illuminate the massive canopy bed in the center. Nole was sprawled out on it, flat on his back, the sheets tangled around his legs, and conveniently, Miyanta was there too, curled in against his chest. How she could sleep through that snoring, I had no i
dea. I doubted she’d hear us approaching even if we’d stomped across the room.

  Nole, on the other hand, was a light sleeper. As soon as we approached the bed, he opened his eyes and bolted upright. The moonlight hit his face, illuminating the striking features and the thick, well-groomed beard, and I gasped. “You!” I cried, drawing the guard’s sword. It was Red Beard—Salcombe’s chief acolyte!

  “What is the meaning of this!” Nole shouted, jumping out of bed. Miyanta squealed as he pulled a gun from beneath his pillow, and Tavarian and I dropped to the ground as he fired three rounds at us. My sword clattered against the floorboards, but I barely heard it over the sound of the explosive gunfire.

  “Dammit!” I yelled, rolling behind a dresser to take cover. I yanked a knife from my boot and threw it at Nole, but he dodged with supernatural speed, no doubt enhanced by the dragon-god elixir. I wondered if he still had the piece of heart Salcombe had left with him—I hadn’t sensed it anywhere near, but he could have hidden it outside the city.

  Tavarian had dropped to the other side of the bed, and he fired a burst of red magic at Nole. Nole managed to dodge, but the blast knocked the gun out of his hand, and Tavarian used the opportunity to rush him, drawing his sword. But Nole was too fast—he spun out of the way and grabbed the pistol strapped to Tavarian’s waist. Tavarian dropped the sword, and the two wrestled for the gun.

  Dragon’s balls! I wanted to join the fray, but with Nole's super speed I'd probably gut Tavarian by accident instead. So I dashed for Miyanta, grabbed her by her long, silky black hair, and dragged her out of bed.

  “Stop!” I yelled just as Nole yanked the gun from Tavarian’s grip. “Stop, or I’ll kill her!”

  Nole froze, his barrel trained on Tavarian’s chest. I pressed my knife against Miyanta’s throat, my other arm wrapped around her naked torso. I had no intention of actually killing her, but Nole didn’t need to know that.

  “If you kill her, I’ll kill him,” Nole said in a ragged voice, his bare chest heaving. They were both naked, I dimly realized, and the moonlight hid absolutely nothing. Guess Miyanta had decided to stick around for more than just money.

  “You’ll miss her more,” I lied, digging the knife in a little. Miyanta whimpered as blood trickled down her chest. I imagined a pampered courtesan like her wasn’t used to this kind of treatment. Remembering that I was supposed to be a man, I grabbed one of her breasts and added, “Would be a shame to let this all go to waste.”

  Nole’s face reddened, and he swung the gun in my direction. “You let her go!” he shouted.

  Tavarian jumped up, grabbed a heavy bowl off the shelf, and hit Nole on the back of his head. He dropped to the ground, eyes rolling into the back of his head as he passed out.

  “Beloved!” Miyanta shrieked, struggling against me. “You killed him!”

  “He will be fine,” Tavarian said. He let his illusion spell fall away as he walked toward Miyanta, and she froze, undoubtedly recognizing him. “Unless, of course, you fail to answer our questions.”

  “Questions?” Miyanta purred, going soft in my arms. “Why, Lord Tavarian, you know I would do anything you asked. All you need to do is convince your friend here to let me go.”

  “Let you go?” Tavarian stopped in his tracks, a dazed look coming over his face. I scowled as his pale cheeks flushed—he was staring at Miyanta as if she were a lush oasis and we were standing in an arid desert. “Well, yes, I suppose I—"

  “Snap out of it!” I dropped the knife and used my hand to cover Miyanta’s eyes. Tavarian blinked, the dazed look in his eyes clearing away. “What the hell, Tavarian!”

  “Sorry.” He shook his head, looking out of sorts. “She…used some sort of magic on me, I think. How are you doing this?” he demanded of Miyanta.

  “Why don’t you come closer so I can tell you?” she asked in that sultry voice.

  I rolled my eyes and pressed my forearm against her windpipe. “The only thing you’re telling us is where your invitations to the autocrator’s reception are,” I said. “It’s either that or you and your boyfriend die.”

  “Please,” she croaked, struggling against me. “I-I’ll tell you anything you want. Don’t hurt me!”

  Tavarian and I tied the two lovers up, though we first bundled them into bathrobes. There was something about interrogating someone while naked that took the gravity out of the situation. It turned out that even if Miyanta didn’t say anything, merely looking at Tavarian caused him to sink into a lust-filled stupor, so I found a scarf in the closet and wrapped it around the upper half of her face, leaving her nose and mouth uncovered.

  “Skies,” Tavarian said, shaking his head as he sat down. “Even like this, the allure is palpable. What kind of sorcery are you using?” he asked Miyanta.

  “A gift from the dragon god.” Miyanta’s lush lips curved into a smile. “He rewards loyalty.”

  “No kidding.” I stared. So Zakyiar could give out more than strength and longevity, huh? Maybe Miyanta had specifically asked for this, since magical sex appeal suited her line of work more than the ability to smash walls or run at super speed. “So you and Nole are both Salcombe’s acolytes?”

  “We are Zakyiar’s to command,” Miyanta corrected, her spine stiffening. “Salcombe is merely his chosen mouthpiece. It is the dragon god we serve, no one else.”

  “How many of you are in the city?” Tavarian demanded. “Where do you meet?”

  “Twenty-two,” Miyanta said after a moment of hesitation. “We meet in the catacombs still, though we’ve had to find a different location ever since you discovered us that first time. We are all sworn to kill you on sight. The dragon god will no doubt punish me for failing to do so.” She gave a mournful sigh.

  “How terrible for you,” I said dryly. “What have you all been doing these days? Has Salcombe or the dragon god put you on a mission?”

  Miyanta refused to answer at first, but when I pricked her skin with a knife, she was quick to open up. The woman clearly abhorred the idea of her precious body being harmed in any way. “We have no mission right now, other than to observe and report,” she babbled. “We are still waiting for Salcombe to return from his trip.”

  “What trip?”

  Miyanta shrugged. “As if I would know. He tells us nothing, which is infuriating, but I can only imagine the dragon god has a purpose for keeping us in the dark.

  Huh. Guess Nole didn’t have a piece of the dragon god’s heart after all.

  Nole stirred from his position on the ground. "What are you doing?" he snarled at Miyanta, and then his eyes widened as he saw our real faces. "You!"

  “Yes, me. Nice to finally meet you.”

  “You’re going to regret this!” He rolled to his knees and began chanting in a strange language, his face tight with concentration. To my alarm, a black cloud began to coalesce behind him, taking on the shape of a dragon. A feral wind swept through the room, and I reached for my weapon, but my hand trembled and I fumbled the hilt.

  “No!” Tavarian cried. He flung out his hands, chanting the death spell, and a blast of magic hit Nole square in the chest. Nole disintegrated, and Miyanta shrieked as she received a face full of ash. A deadly roar shook the room, and a blast of heat scorched my skin as the dragon god vented his wrath at being interrupted. But his nebulous form slowly faded away, taking the wind along with it.

  Tavarian sighed, slumping in his chair. “That was too close.”

  “What happened?” Miyanta cried. “What did you do with Nole?”

  “He’s dead.” I marched over to her, yanked the cloth from her eyes, and grabbed her chin, forcing her to look directly at me. “Tavarian turned him into a cloud of ash. That’s what you were choking on just now.”

  Miyanta burst into tears. “Let me go!” she screamed, struggling at her bonds, but I yanked the cloth over her face and stepped back.

  “We have one more question,” I said coldly, and she went still. “Do you and Nole have invitations to the autocrator’s reception?�
�

  “We do,” she said in a small voice.

  “Where are they?”

  She told us where Nole kept the mail, and Tavarian went to his study to fetch the invitations. He came back with two envelopes and handed one to me. “It’s tomorrow night,” he confirmed. “There’s no location mentioned, just a date and time.”

  “How do you know where you’re supposed to go?” I asked Miyanta.

  “We’re supposed to meet at city hall,” Miyanta said. “From there, we’ll be guided to the real venue. I’ve been trying to find out where it is, but not even the officers know.”

  “I believe you,” I said. With her ability to wrap men around her finger, they would have told her if they knew. “You’ve been helpful, Miyanta. For that, we’ll let you live.”

  “Please—” she stared, but Tavarian cut her off, placing his hand against her mouth. He used the same spell on her as he’d used on the guards, and she fell asleep in the chair, her head lolling to the side.

  “Let’s tuck her away somewhere safe,” I told him. “We’re going to need her again.”

  12

  The next morning, Tavarian and I spent several hours practicing our new personas. As expected, Tavarian had little trouble slipping into Nole’s smug yet regal persona—if I didn’t know better myself, I’d have thought I was talking to the same man we’d killed last night.

  I, however, was having a dismal time of it. I’d raided Miyanta’s closet—apparently Nole had given her a small one in the adjacent guest room—and put on a slinky black dress and a set of rubies, trying to get into character. Miyanta’s figure was a lot curvier than mine, so Tavarian had to use his magic to make it fit. Her hair was a pain to style—unlike mine, it was fine and silky straight, which meant very little volume when I tried to pin it up into any kind of fancy hairdo. I might have to hire a professional for tonight, but for now I settled on a simple high bun and added a flower clip, then used the pots of makeup on the vanity to rouge my lips and dramatically line my dark eyes.