The Dragonspire Chronicles Omnibus 1

by James E. Wisher

The guard chewed his lip then said, “Very well, but don’t trouble the students. The history department is in building four, ground floor. You’ll want Professor Anna-Maria, she’s… very popular.”

  Yaz put the coin away. “Thank you very much. We’ll be as quick as we can.”

  The guard waved at his fellows and the gate was opened. Yaz led the way up a crushed-gravel path toward the collected buildings. An imperial numeral marked each of them and Yaz angled over to number four.

  A heavy oak door was closed but unlocked. Inside, a foyer held a board that listed the room numbers and the professors leading each class. Professor Anna-Maria was in room three. A wide hall led out of the foyer deeper into the building. Room three was on the left.

  Yaz entered a packed room. Probably fifty students filled the space and all eyes focused on the front where perhaps the most beautiful woman Yaz had ever seen stood at a lectern. The professor was young, maybe midtwenties, with short dark hair that stopped just above her shoulders. Her bronze skin was without flaw and her scholarly robes did little to disguise the figure underneath.

  “Don’t drool,” Brigid said in a harsh whisper.

  Yaz closed his mouth and they found an empty spot against the back wall.

  “The Kingdom of Aqua launched a secret spell developed over a decade, the most powerful ever cast, at their enemies in the Kingdom of Terra,” Professor Anna-Maria said. “The counterspell cast by Terra struck seconds later. Both kingdoms were destroyed in the worst magical cataclysm in history. It would only be equaled centuries later on the Day of Mad Dragons. I can see you all wondering what this has to do with the here and now. Does anyone know?”

  Someone off to Yaz’s right raised his hand and said, “Don’t count on wizards to protect your kingdom?”

  “No, without wizards, one side or the other would have lost instantly with no hope of a counterattack. Anyone else?”

  After a few seconds of silence Yaz raised his hand.

  “What are you doing?” Brigid asked.

  “Earning good will, I hope.” When the professor pointed at Yaz he said, “If you have a powerful weapon don’t keep it a secret.”

  There was a round of laughter at Yaz’s expense.

  “Interesting answer,” the professor said. “Would you care to elaborate?”

  “If each side knew that the other had a weapon capable of such destruction, they wouldn’t have dared use it knowing the result would be their own death. If each believed their own spell was unique in its power the desire to wipe out their enemy would prove overwhelming. By keeping their ultimate spells a secret, they sealed their own doom.”

  “Impressive reasoning, young man. That’s all for today, class dismissed.”

  The students filed out, more than one shooting an ugly look at Yaz. Let them glare. He only needed to convince the professor to help. What the students thought didn’t concern him in the least.

  “You have a knack for making friends,” Silas said.

  “Says the man I first met tied up on the ground in a bounty hunter camp.”

  Silas snorted as the last student closed the door. When they were alone Yaz and his friends walked up to the front of the classroom.

  The professor gave them an appraising look. “You aren’t my students. I knew that the moment you gave an intelligent answer to my question. So who are you?”

  “I’m Yaz, this is Brigid and this is Silas,” he said, pointing at his companions in turn. “We were told you could help us with a historical matter.”

  “Oh?”

  Yaz retrieved the coin and set it on her lectern. “We were hoping for any information you could offer on this—”

  She gasped and snatched it up. “Do you know what you have here? This is a first dynasty Kingdom of Terra coin. It’s regarded as the rarest coin in the world. There are only four known examples in Carttoom. One is on display in a museum in Port Steel. Another is part of the royal treasury. The third is owned by the richest man in the city, Sir Parnum. And the last is owned by a former ruin explorer named Randall Cobb. He’s a merchant now and carries it as a good luck charm.”

  “I know Randall Cobb,” Yaz said. “He visits the village once a year to sell silk and lace. I sold him a dozen wolf hides two years ago. He must have dropped it.”

  “Doubtful,” Anna-Maria said. “No one just drops a coin worth hundreds of gold scales. Where did you say you found it?”

  “Dragonspire Village,” Yaz said. He took a breath and decided to trust her. “Brigid and I were born there and after a brief journey we returned to find the valley empty. Randall must have been in town on his annual visit when whatever happened, happened.”

  Anna-Maria caressed the coin in a way that made Yaz envious. “When you say empty, what, exactly, do you mean?”

  “Just what I said. There wasn’t a person present from one end of the valley to the other. No bodies, no blood, no sign of battle. It’s like they turned into a gust of wind and blew away. My parents and Brigid’s parents are among those that vanished.”

  “Obviously they didn’t simply disappear,” Anna-Maria said. “Someone must have taken them.”

  Yaz shook his head. “Two hundred and fifty-three men, women, and children lived in the valley plus however many visiting merchants and those wishing to consult with the sages. Who could have taken that many people without a fight? And why didn’t they steal anything of value? There wasn’t a book out of place in the tower library or a weapon missing from the armory.”

  “I have no answers.” She reluctantly handed the coin back. “I can tell you the coin is genuine and worth a fortune. If you want a little unsolicited advice, go to Randall’s estate in Fort Kane and talk to his family. They might know something.”

  Yaz accepted the coin and offered a polite bow. “Thank you for speaking with us. You’ve been a great help.”

  Full red lips parted slightly when she smiled. “My pleasure. I can’t tell you how sick I get of talking to rich fools and fending off their constant advances. I swear, every word I say goes in one ear and out the other. I know the little shits just take my class so they can stare at my chest, but still, you’d think at least one of them might care about history.”

  Brigid stomped out of the classroom ahead of Yaz and Silas. Her jaw ached from grinding her teeth. Yes, fine, Anna-Maria was pretty, beautiful even, but wasn’t Brigid every bit as attractive? Did Yaz look at her like that because she was a scholar as well as beautiful? That was something Brigid would never be. She could barely write the alphabet much less discuss history in an intelligent way. Maybe it was stupid to think someone as smart as Yaz would be interested in her.

  She was so focused on her thoughts that Brigid almost walked smack into a student standing in the middle of the hall near a couple others leaning against the wall. Who stands in the middle of the hall blocking everyone’s way? Muttering to herself about boys in general, she moved to go around him.

  The guy grabbed her arm and Brigid finally looked at him. He had short, blond hair, blue eyes, and a square, smooth jaw. He was only a couple inches taller than her, but Brigid was tall for a girl. Maybe that’s why Yaz preferred Anna-Maria. She was a little shorter than him.

  She dismissed the stupid thought at once and glared at the boy holding her elbow. “You want to let me go?”

  “Calm down, beautiful. We should get to know each other better. What’s your name?”

  “My name is none of your concern.” She jerked her arm free of his grasp. “Excuse me.”

  She took a step and he moved to block her. “That isn’t a very nice way to act. Do you know who I am?”

  “No, and I don’t care either. Get out of my way before I lose my temper.”

  He smiled and chuckled, looking back at his friends. “I’d better be careful. She’s going to lose her temper.”

  They laughed and her anger grew. If these were supposed to be the next generation of nobles, it was no wonder Silas hated them. Yaz and Silas had caught up to her. Having them to wa
tch her back eased her nerves. Since she wanted to avoid a scene, Brigid tried once more to escape.

  Once more he moved to block her, putting his hands on her shoulders. Her knee came up hard into his groin.

  He collapsed, knees pressed together, writhing in pain. He couldn’t say she didn’t warn him. His friends pushed away from the wall.

  “Need a hand?” Yaz asked.

  “No, I’m good.” Brigid tightened her grip on her walking stick and looked hard at the approaching boys. “Whatever you’re thinking, reconsider.”

  They froze, looking from her to their moaning companion. The wheels turned behind their eyes and the pair backed off. Part of her was relieved and part disappointed. Thrashing the fools would have been a pleasant release, but probably brought more attention than they really wanted. If Anna-Maria had to deal with pigs like this every day, it was no wonder she enjoyed talking to someone like Yaz.

  They hurried out of the building and off campus. When they’d put some distance between themselves and the academy Brigid asked, “What now?”

  Silas sighed. “We’re not selling the coin, are we?”

  “No,” Yaz said. “It’s our ticket to speak with Randall’s family. Besides, it’s not really ours.”

  “Carnack’s not going to be happy,” Silas said. “Are we going to tell him?”

  “Your call,” Yaz said. “I doubt I’ll ever see the man again, but you’ve done business with him.”

  Silas rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I really don’t want to listen to his griping. I’ll have a message sent over in the morning. It’s not like we made any promises so he can’t complain too much.”

  “When are we leaving?” Brigid asked.

  “First light if that’s okay?” Yaz said.

  “Works for me,” she said. “We’ve still got a few hours before dark. Should we explore the city?”

  “You two go ahead,” Silas said. “I’m going back to the inn for a lunch and a nap. The ride to Fort Kane is a good five hundred miles. I intend to be well rested.”

  “We won’t be too long,” Yaz said. “Was there anything in particular you want to see?”

  “I thought we could just walk.” Brigid grabbed his arm and they set out toward the city center. There were so many people in the city she felt safe. No one knew who they were and no one cared. It was freeing and she didn’t want it to end.

  Chapter 4

  As a ranger, Moz’s duties seldom brought him to cities. Usually he was riding around in the middle of nowhere hunting down bandits or marauders from Carttoom. He actually preferred it that way. Cities made him nervous. He didn’t know how to read the signs as well as he did in the wild.

  Blinder, he assumed, was a typical example. Far too many people crowded in too small a space. The noise, the stink, all of it tried to overwhelm Moz’s senses. He had to limit himself to focusing only on a few things.

  At the moment he was studying the flow of people around him. It was the middle of the afternoon, the hottest part of the day, yet people still crowded the streets, hurrying here and there. Women carried kids in one arm and groceries in the other. Young men sprinted past, scrolls clutched in their hands while older men in iron collars lugged heavy loads. Rend didn’t allow slavery, but criminals often worked off their debt to society with forced labor. It was a fine line, but one the king considered important.

  Moz grimaced. King Rend. Callie would keep her word not to tell him about Ariel, at least for a while, but sooner or later he’d find out about her ability to control dragons. When that day came would Rend do the right thing or would he try and use her for his own purposes?

  Moz wished he had more confidence in the answer, but King Rend had a taste for power, the same as every ruler. The oath Moz took years ago said he had to serve the crown and he would, unless Rend made a move against Ariel. If that happened, Moz would stand with the girl. She was innocent and didn’t deserve to be used by anyone.

  The street ended in front of a tall gray cathedral built in the imperial style. The Grand Library resembled a cross between a holy temple and a castle. A dragon statue guarded the steps leading up to three sets of doors. Men and women in scholars’ robes came and went in a steady stream, but no books left the building.

  Moz shook his head and started up the steps. He could read of course, all the rangers learned how, but he’d never had much use for book learning. Most of it turned out to be worthless in the real world, at least in his experience.

  At the central doors Moz caught the door after a slim, blond woman exited seeming totally unaware of his presence. Her whole focus was on the scroll in her hands. He watched her leave just to be sure she didn’t trip going down the steps. When she reached the street safely, he ducked inside.

  The interior of the library had several levels spread out over one massive open space. It felt more like a cavern than a building. Assuming a cavern had hundreds of bookcases holding thousands of books. Moz had little interest in browsing so he made his way to a large round desk behind which sat four women and two men dressed all in gray.

  A woman in her early twenties took in his armor and weapons before offering a nervous smile. They probably didn’t get many rangers popping in for a visit. The reaction was common and no longer bothered him.

  “Can I help you, sir?” she asked in a hushed voice.

  “I’m tracking a murderer,” Moz answered, making sure to keep his voice down. “A reliable source says he visited this library some time ago, maybe a couple years. I was hoping someone might remember him. His name is Rondo Tegan.”

  “That was before my time, sir. Our chief archivist might remember. He has a gift for recalling faces. Whom shall I say is asking?”

  “Moz, of the Alteran Ranger Corps.”

  Her eyes widened. Clearly the rangers’ reputation preceded him even here. “I’ll fetch him right away, sir. Please wait a moment.”

  She left the desk and rushed toward the rear of the library. Moz crossed his arms and studied the room. It was hard to say exactly how many people were present since the bookcases created a maze where people seemed to appear and disappear at random. It would be a hell of a place to fight a battle. You’d have to watch every corner. He shuddered at the thought.

  After five minutes of contemplating the stacks of books, the young woman returned with a pale, bald man about Moz’s age also dressed in a gray robe. He held out a hand and Moz gave the frail appendage a gentle shake.

  “A pleasure to meet an Alteran Ranger. My name is Harold and I’m the chief archivist of this library. How can I be of assistance?”

  Moz couldn’t remember the last time someone was glad to see a ranger, at least outside of those that served with him. “I’m looking for Rondo Tegan. I have information that he was intending to visit you.”

  Harold’s face twisted in distaste. “I’ll not forget that one any time soon. What a pest. Constantly wanting to borrow a book despite repeatedly being told we don’t lend books. Not to mention always wanting one of the staff to tend his every whim. Gods’ blood, was I relieved to see him leave. Why are you interested in him?”

  “He’s responsible for the murder of at least two people and the attempted kidnapping of a little girl.”

  Harold stared for a moment. “And here I am complaining that he was a nuisance. It seems I should just be relieved he didn’t kill me.”

  “Rondo lacks the guts to kill anyone himself, but he’s not afraid to give the order to his paid thugs. What can you tell me about his time here?”

  “Not a great deal, I’m afraid. He read obsessively about ruins and those who explored them. He seemed to harbor some delusion about becoming an explorer himself and discovering some forgotten bit of lore. That last is pure speculation on my part. Beyond his reading habits I can’t tell you much, I’m sorry.”

  Moz waved a hand. “It’s fine. I didn’t have my hopes too high.”

  “Um…” One of the other women at the table, a mousy little thing a bit older than the one that
had fetched the archivist raised a tentative hand. “I couldn’t help overhearing. I spoke to Rondo a few times. He gave me the shivers, offered to buy me a drink at his inn. He stayed at The Bright Moon if that helps. It’s a hangout for shady characters and poor scholars.”

  Finally, a bit of good luck. “That’s a great help, thank you. Where is this inn?”

  She frowned and wrinkled her brow. “It’s kind of complicated. If you want, I can show you when I finish work.”

  “You may go now,” Harold said. “We can get by short staffed for a few hours.”

  “Yes, sir.” She pulled off her robe revealing a tan tunic and skirt that stopped just above her knee. She folded the robe and set it on her chair. “Shall we?”

  “After you.” Moz felt like he was finally making a little progress. It was probably as illusory as his earlier efforts, but time would tell.

  “I’m Priscilla by the way,” the girl from the library said as she led Moz through the twisted passages formed by a chaotic sprawl of merchant stalls. They were a riot of colors, smells, and shouts all battling to capture your attention. Moz sneezed when they passed a stall festooned with peppers.

  It was the first thing she’d said since leaving the library. Moz wasn’t much for conversation so that suited him fine. Hopefully she wasn’t about to become chatty now that she was away from her boss. He had enough things to worry about without having to hold up his end of a conversation.

  “Moz.” A flicker of movement to his left had him reaching for his sword. He relaxed a fraction when he realized it was just one of those messengers that seemed to be everywhere in this bloody city.

  “I know,” she said. “I read of the rangers, but never imagined I’d have a chance to meet one. Did you fight in the Carttoom campaign?”

  He grimaced at the back of her head. “Unfortunately. It’s not something I like to talk about.”

  “So the mission was as bad as the histories say?”

  “Probably worse. I haven’t read the histories and no one bothered to ask me what actually happened. Just as well since I would have told them I don’t like talking about it too.”