I laughed. “You sure know how to look on the bright side of things.”
“Talking to Lessie?” Tavarian asked, smiling fondly at me.
“Yeah.” I slipped out of bed and went to the wardrobe to find something to wear. “I’m going to go out for a bit.”
Tavarian frowned. “Where?”
“To the Treasure Trove.”
“Ah.” Tavarian relaxed. “You want to make your goodbyes to Carina?”
“That’s the plan.” Bright side or not, I wanted to see Carina one more time in case this was the last chance I got. She would be absolutely pissed if she found out I died here in the city, just a few miles from her, and never even came to say hi.
I changed my clothes, kissed Tavarian goodbye, then headed down to the Lower City, magically disguised once more in my trader persona.
By the time I reached the Treasure Trove, darkness had settled upon the city, and the gas lamps had been lit, casting a warm glow across the cobblestones. The streets were quieter than usual for this hour, citizens hurrying off to their homes, wanting to be well away from the prowling guards before curfew.
I entered the shop, and the bell tingled to announce my entrance.
“We’re about to close,” Carina said, her back turned to me as she fiddled with a statuette display on one of the shelves. Her long, ink-black hair flowed all the way down to her curvy hips. She was wearing tight green trousers with ornate stitching on the sides and a black blouse tucked in at the high waist, where a utility belt sat that carried her authenticator’s tools. I felt a twinge of guilt; authenticating artifacts had always been my job, since I was the one with the treasure sense, but Carina had been forced to take that on too, since I wasn’t here.
“Even for co-owners?” I teased.
She spun around, her mouth dropping open. “Who are you?” she asked, her dark eyes glinting with suspicion. I saw her hand go for the knife strapped to her thigh and smiled approvingly. “Wait a minute. Aren’t you the trader who’s been helping the Zallabarians authenticate dragon-rider artifacts?”
“Only because I don’t want to blow my cover,” I assured her, holding both my hands up. “Carina, it’s me, Zara. Tavarian and I are here in the city on an important mission, and I wanted to see you in case things went wrong.”
“Zara?” Carina gaped at me. “But…you look so different! Is this some kind of magic, like the fan Salcombe stole from us?”
I nodded, taking a step toward her. “A spell, courtesy of Tavarian.”
“Right. I keep forgetting he’s a mage.” Carina blew out a breath, but she made no move to take her hand off the knife hilt. “But how do I know you’re really Zara? You could be a Zallabarian trying to trick me.”
I smirked. "A Zallabarian wouldn't know about the time you went skinny dipping with our guide in the Calamayan jungle while your father was sleeping in his tent. Or about the time you snuck out of the house with me to go to that revel at the Red Dragon and you puked all over that hot bartender. Or—"
“All right, all right!” Carina clapped a hand over my mouth, her cheeks scalding. The two of us dissolved into laughter, and we held onto each other for dear life. “You idiot, Zara,” she choked out as our laughter turned to tears. “Why did you come here? Don’t you know you’re risking your life, even with this disguise?”
“I don’t care,” I mumbled into her shoulder, squeezing her tight. “You’re my best friend, Carina. I couldn’t come to Zuar City without checking to make sure you were okay.”
Carina locked up the shop, and the two of us went upstairs to my old apartment to have tea and catch up. “I’m glad to see you’re alive, but I wish you’d cast off that disguise,” Carina said as she set out a platter of cookies on the table. “It’s weird to see you wearing someone else’s face.”
“Sorry,” I said, shrugging. “I can’t undo it without Tavarian.” Unless I wanted to cut myself again, and I wasn’t too keen on that idea. “If it makes you feel better, it’s weird to be back here in this apartment again.” I glanced around. The furnishings were the same, but the pink throw on the couch and the cute little knickknacks scattered around made it feel like someone else’s. “I’m guessing Kira is still living here?”
“Yeah. She’s out with Brolian right now—she’s going to kick herself when she hears you stopped by and she wasn’t here. Do you think you could stay the night? She’d love to see you.”
I shook my head. “We’re carrying out our mission tomorrow, so I have to get back to the Upper City.”
Carina made a face. “Which you’re not going to tell me anything about?”
“Just that it’s dangerous. And that the less you know, the better.”
Carina snorted. “Everything you do is dangerous these days,” she said as she added two lumps of sugar to her tea.
I took a sip of my own—unsweetened—and closed my eyes, enjoying the way the hot, fragrant liquid flowed over my tongue.
“In fact, I’d be more surprised if you weren’t here to risk your life. Weren’t you out searching for some mythic weapon to help defeat the Zallabarians? Or were you looking for one of the dragon god’s pieces of heart? It’s hard to keep all of your adventures straight, you know,” she said with a crooked smile.
I laughed, and updated her on everything, including the new base on Polyba, our alliance with the Warosians, and my successful trip to Derynnis’s Forge. The only thing I left out was the Dragon Archipelago—there was no reason for Carina to know about it, and the fewer who were aware of its existence, the better.
“I can’t believe you actually met the god of death and lived to tell the tale,” Carina said, shaking her head. “Somebody needs to write a book about your life, Zara. You’re becoming a legend.”
I grinned “Nobody would believe it. Everyone would assume I was making up tall tales.”
“Don’t all the warriors of legend do that, though?” Carina asked, grinning back. “Hell, I’ll volunteer once all this is over. It’ll be something nice for your grandkids to read.”
“Right. Grandkids.” The thought that I would survive this war, that I would live long enough to have children and see them raise children, seemed like a distant dream. "Did I tell you that Tavarian and I are engaged?"
“Well it’s about damn time,” Carina said, folding her arms across her chest. “We can both stand up for each other at our weddings, then.”
“Huh?” My jaw dropped. “You’re getting married, Carina?”
“Well, not yet.” She shrugged a little self-consciously. “But I met a guy, and things are really intense between us right now. Probably because of the threat of death hanging over our heads, what with him being a rebel plant and all.”
“A rebel plant?” My head was still spinning, but I tried to slow it down to process what she was saying. “Are you talking about one of the soldiers we sent to reinfiltrate?”
Carina nodded. “His name is Branson. He’s hot and funny, and whenever he comes over we stay up all night having soul deep conversations and talk about our future. Between all the sex, of course,” she added, and I choked on my tea. “But seriously, Zara, I think he’s the one.”
“That’s amazing, Carina. I’m so happy for you.” Tears stung at my eyes, and I pulled her into a hug as a renewed determination lit a fire in my belly. To hell with the odds, to hell with dying for my country. Tavarian and I would carry out our mission tomorrow, and we were going to live. I wanted to see Carina get married, and I wanted to tell tall tales of our adventures to our grandchildren.
“There’s the Zara I know,” Lessie said fondly, and I smiled. There was a bright future ahead for all of us, if we could just survive this, and I’d be damned if I let the Zallabarians steal one more precious second of it.
14
“There,” Tavarian said, tucking one last pin into place in my hair. “You look just like her now. No one would suspect you’re not Miyanta.”
He stepped back to admire his handiwork, while I inspected the ele
gant up-do in Miyanta’s vanity mirror. “Not bad,” I admitted, tucking a stray wisp of black hair behind my ear. It was a simple hairstyle to be sure, but I hoped the jeweled pins we’d chosen as accessories, and the stunning blue and gold dress I'd selected from her wardrobe would make up for it. The dress was tight in the torso and thighs, clinging to every curve before flaring out at the knees. It had a deep v-neckline that plunged all the way to my sternum, but was surprisingly narrow, keeping Miyanta's impressive breasts mostly covered while offering a tantalizing glimpse of the flesh between. The narrow straps left her collarbones, shoulders, and swan-like neck on full display, so I'd accessorized with a sapphire studded gold choker, and a set of dangling sapphire earrings to match. There was absolutely nowhere to hide a weapon even if I'd wanted to risk it, but the bottle of poisonous perfume was tucked into the small golden purse sitting on the vanity table, next to the array of makeup pots I'd been tearing my hair out over.
"Are you sure?" I glanced uncertainly up at Tavarian. We'd decided it was too risky to hire a professional to do my hair and makeup, so I'd spent the last two hours grilling Miyanta on what all the little powders and brushes were for and how to use them. I'd seen high-class courtesans before, so I knew how they looked when they made themselves up, but trying to actually recreate the look was incredibly difficult. I was worried that the black, smoky stuff I'd put around my eyes was a little too smudgy, and that I'd applied too much blush on my cheeks.
“Positive.” Tavarian cupped my cheek and tilted my head to the side. He was back in Nole’s persona, speaking in his clipped tones, but I could still see the man I loved lurking behind those cold grey eyes. He wiped his thumb across one of my cheekbones—dammit, I knew I’d used too much blush! —then stepped back to kneel at my feet. “Now let’s get these shoes on you.”
I groaned as Tavarian slipped my feet into the sapphire and gold heels—I hated heels with a passion. But Miyanta would never wear flat soled shoes with a dress like this, so I’d forced myself to practice walking in them, trying to match that graceful glide I’d seen so many women achieve effortlessly.
“Is Miyanta back in the attic?” I asked.
Tavarian nodded. “I put her back to sleep.”
"Is that safe?" I wondered aloud, feeling a twinge of worry for the courtesan even though she was an agent for the dragon god. "I mean, will being asleep all the time damage her mind or body in any way?"
“If I kept her asleep for weeks her muscles would atrophy, and she would awake disoriented and confused. But a few days will not do her any harm,” Tavarian said. He helped me to my feet, then wrapped a slinky shawl around my shoulders. “You have a good heart, Zara, but do not pity her. She will destroy us if given half the chance.”
Tavarian and I headed to City Hall, the agreed-upon meeting place listed in Nole and Miyanta's invitations. Guards were stationed at the entrance, and we were quickly but thoroughly searched for weapons. To my relief, the guards didn't even bother to sniff my perfume vial, and in no time the two of us were milling about in the foyer with close to two hundred guests. There were quite a few Zallabarian officers in dress uniform, with their medals proudly displayed, flirting shamelessly with the glamorous women in the room. As a well-known courtesan, the officers did not hesitate to engage me as well, even though I was already with a man for the evening, and to my embarrassment, I fumbled through what should have been sexy, witty replies.
“Are you all right, Miyanta?” one of the officers asked. A troubled frown creased his handsome face as he studied me, and a cold shiver rippled down my spine. “You seem…distracted, tonight.”
“I had a bit of food poisoning yesterday, and I’m afraid I’m not quite recovered, Colonel,” I said, smiling apologetically. “Nole offered to stay home with me, dear man that he is—” I hooked my arm through Tavarian’s and leaned into him—“but I couldn’t bear to miss the autocrator’s reception. This is the first time I’ll be meeting him, you know.”
“Me too,” the officer confessed, lowering his voice a little. “I’ve seen him from afar, of course, but—”
A gunshot rang out through the chamber, followed by a cacophony of shrill screams. Whipping my head around, I reached for a weapon that wasn't there, preparing to square off against the threat. A soldier pointed a smoking pistol at a distinguished looking man in a suit, whose face was slack with shock. The man clutched at his chest, then collapsed, blood pooling rapidly beneath him from what I surmised was a gunshot wound.
“Nooooooo!” the woman next to him shrieked, collapsing to her knees against him. She rocked back and forth on the ground, clutching the bright pink feather boa she wore to her chest like a talisman, heedless of the blood soaking into her dress. “Save him. Someone save him!”
More guards rushed in to clean up the body and haul the wailing woman away. “Let it be known,” one of the soldiers said, holding up a blade, “that any man or woman who comes in tonight carrying a weapon of any kind will be shot on sight. No exceptions.”
A shiver rippled through the crowd at the menace in the guard’s voice, and the guests quickly turned away from the carnage. “Rebel scum!” the officer I’d been speaking to spat as I stared into the dead man’s glassy, sightless eyes. Cold fear spiraled through me along with a healthy dose of hot anger—that could have easily been me. Did the Zallabarians really have to kill him, especially like this? “I hope this one serves as an example to the rest of them.”
“Oh, it will,” Tavarian said in a foreboding voice. If I didn’t know better, I would say the frosty anger in his tone was on behalf of the autocrator, and not directed toward the Zallabarians themselves. “Word of this will spread throughout the city by tomorrow. They’ll think twice before trying to pull a stunt like this.”
“They’d better,” the Colonel said, folding his arms. “Between this and the bombing earlier this week, I’m amazed we’ve continued to be so lenient with them.”
A scalding retort burned on the tip of my tongue, but thankfully the guards called for silence before I could lose my temper. “Please form three lines,” one of them shouted, his voice echoing through the chamber. Three guards stood at the front of the foyer, indicating where the rest of us should line up. “We will be escorting you to the reception now.”
We did as suggested, and the guards led us through a tunnel in the city hall’s basement. I gathered that the tunnel was an escape route used for evacuation purposes, normally hidden behind the large storage shelves that had been moved aside. The guards carried torches to illuminate the roughly hewn path, and the flickering lights gave the atmosphere a spooky feeling, making the guests twitter nervously. The women snuggled in a little closer to their men, and I did the same with Tavarian, though inwardly I was rolling my eyes. As if holding onto his arm would do me any good if we were attacked! What was I going to do, throw him in front of me like a meat shield?
“Relax,” Tavarian murmured, his lips brushing the top of my ear. “You’re looking rather grumpy.”
I let out a slow breath, forcing the muscles in my face to loosen. Miyanta would never allow a pinched expression to settle on her face, at least not for longer than a second or two. I already was at a disadvantage since I lacked her magical allure—looking constipated would only make things more difficult for me tonight.
“Do you have any idea where we’re going?” I whispered as I leaned into him, pitching my voice beneath the chatter echoing around us. I didn’t know Dragon’s Table nearly as well as the Lower City, where I’d grown up, but Tavarian had lived and worked here all his life.
He nodded. “This leads to the King’s Palace.”
Ahh. The King’s Palace was an ornate gold and white building that sat in the center of Dragon’s Table. Back in the day, Elantia was ruled by a monarchy, and the King’s Palace was Elantia’s seat of power. These days it was where the council met and where most of the dragon rider’s galas and social events were held. Or at least, it had been before Zallabar had taken over. Now, apparently
, it was being used to host visiting dictators.
The tunnel opened up into a well-stocked wine cellar, and we were quickly led above ground, into the palace. As expected, the building was dripping with wealth, and my treasure sense went wild as we passed exquisitely detailed paintings, sculptures, and tapestries that were all worth a fortune. Watchful guards were stationed in every hallway, discouraging light fingers, and I counted them under the guise of admiring the décor. At least thirty were visible on the premises, and many more would be nearby on call.
The guards led us into a grand hall lined with soaring columns on both sides. Blue and white marble swirled beneath our feet, golden chandeliers with crystals glittered above our heads, and music from a violin quartet drifted on the air, mingling with the many conversations going on around us. Tavarian was quickly drawn into a discussion about finance with several high officials, and I surreptitiously drifted away, sipping from a fluted glass of champagne as I searched the room for the autocrator. Despite the crowded hall I spotted him quickly—he was holding court in the far corner of the hall, surrounded by guards. I drew closer, studying the situation—it looked like his equerries were bringing guests to speak with him one on one, for very short audiences. A woman in a frothy lavender dress and a towering blonde wig was being led away, while another lady in deep orange was escorted up to meet him. He inclined his head as she curtsied to him, looking distinguished in his military dress uniform, which was embellished with golden braid at the shoulders and far more medals on the breast than on anyone else I’d seen so far. The autocrator had been a general before he’d overthrown the last ruler, and he was obviously proud of the illustrious military career that had allowed him to conquer my country so quickly.
“Damn,” I muttered as I turned away, studying the autocrator out of the corner of my eye. He was kept far enough away that Tavarian wouldn’t be able to use the death spell without breaking from the crowd and drawing attention to himself. And I wouldn’t be able to sidle up near him and spritz him with the poisonous perfume, either. What to do, what to do?
Secret of the Dragon Page 12
