Yaz’s dagger came crashing down on Delmar’s left hand, severing the first three digits cleanly. Delmar whimpered and clutched his wrist.
“You need to stop talking,” Yaz said. “Threats from a dead man mean nothing.”
Delmar went as white as a trout’s belly and he clamped his jaw tight. A wise move on his part. Angry as he was, Yaz would have cut Delmar’s throat without a second thought. Behind him, Brigid and Silas appeared frozen by the strength of his rage.
“Now, Master, tell me how it is you came to betray everything I ever cared about. The village took you in and gave you a place of honor and respect. No cruelty was directed at you, not that I’m aware of. Was it gold or did they have some other hold on you?”
“I thought you knew me better than that.” The bastard had the nerve to sound disappointed. “I’m a member of the Scaled Society, Yaz, I always have been. I told you I came to Dragonspire Village to study the dragons, and that was true, as far as it went. I wanted to make sure they were well taken care of even if I couldn’t free them on my own. When the opportunity to see them set loose appeared, I had to take it. My only hesitation was you.”
“Me? Now you’re going to tell me you cared what happened to me to win sympathy?”
“Hardly. When Delmar told me their plans, I didn’t want you to get caught up in it. Of all the people I’d met in the village, you seemed the most likely to share my dedication to the dragons. In time, I thought I might even bring you into the society. I told Delmar I needed to consider his offer. When you told me later about your plans to leave the valley it made my decision easy. I encouraged you to go look for an egg to get you out of the way.”
“I imagine you’re regretting that choice now. What about my father? I thought the two of you were friends.”
“Yazguard was a good man, but he saw the dragons as little more than a resource for the village. He wasn’t ignorant or cruel like some of the riders, but he would never be brought around to our way of thinking. Too dedicated to the village. That’s all there is to it. On the appointed night, I dosed the dragons’ evening meal with dragon’s bane and saw them to sleep. The next thing I remember was waking on a flying ship.”
“Flying ship?” Yaz’s disbelief came through loud and clear.
Robotham nodded. “I couldn’t believe it either. The Dark Sages built three ships and fitted them with levitation stones. Where they found that many is beyond me and the cost must have been horrendous, but they did it. We flew to Port Steel where I disembarked and took my leave. What happened to the rest of the villagers I have no idea. I assume they were sold into slavery. Ironic, considering what they did to the dragons.”
“Ironic? That’s all you can say?” The room seemed to tremble under the force of his rage.
“That’s the end of my tale,” Robotham said. “I have no desire for further contact with the Dark Sages or to have anything to do with their schemes. The dragons are free. Nothing else matters to me. Whatever happens now, I have no regrets.”
“When you get to hell, I hope that offers you comfort.” Yaz raised his dagger.
Before he could drive it into the traitor’s neck, Brigid screamed, “Yaz!”
He lowered the blade and looked at her. “What? Did you want to do it? I don’t mind if you kill the other one, but Robotham is mine.”
“If you kill him in cold blood, you’re no better than he is.”
Yaz cocked his head. “Do you really believe that or are you just saying what you think you’re supposed to?”
“What?”
“Robotham betrayed our people and sold them into slavery. According to Carttoom’s law, he didn’t even do anything illegal. Our village has no noble patron to plead our cause to the king. We’ve always stood on our own. If there is to be any justice for our parents, we must deliver it. I will deliver it.”
Before she could offer another argument, Yaz lashed out and slashed his former master’s throat. He stared into the dying man’s eyes until the blood stopped gushing. He wanted the last thing Robotham saw to be Yaz’s hatred.
Next he turned his attention to Delmar. He was every bit as responsible for what happened as Robotham and he would suffer the same fate.
The man saw the look in Yaz’s eyes and knew his fate. Before delivering the final blow, Yaz flipped the dagger and offered it hilt first to Brigid. “You deserve justice as much as I do.”
She just shook her head and looked away.
Yaz wasn’t surprised, but he had to make the offer. He returned his attention to Delmar.
“Please, I was only following my superior’s orders.” He looked from Brigid to Silas and finally back to Yaz. There was nothing either of them could have said to stop him. “I’m sorry.”
“Yes, you are.” Yaz thrust the dagger into Delmar’s right eye, plunging it in up to the hilt. He twitched once and fell face first on the table.
Yaz retrieved the weapon, cleaned it, and slipped it into his sheath. He’d finally taken a real step in the right direction.
Epilogue
Leonidas Black, once more comfortably ensconced in his office at the Dark Sages’ base, read the two messages sitting on his desk for the second time. It seemed both the parties he wanted detained had slipped through his agents’ fingers. To say this was a disappointment would be understating things by a considerable margin. He expected better of his overseers.
One of them had died attempting to keep the ranger captive. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about any punishment. Melody, on the other hand, was looking at a demotion at least and a more permanent sanction at worst. She’d burned a valuable source of information and still failed to capture the group investigating his raid in Dragonspire Valley.
He flicked the pages aside and vaporized them with a pulse from his ring. At least his own work was progressing well. As soon as they rested and re-equipped, Shade, Rondo, and Jax would be setting out for the third tower. Leonidas had high hopes for claiming it quickly. There was nothing in the western desert but scattered clans of nomads. They should be able to fly in, confirm the tower’s location and send word in a few days.
Leonidas sighed and stretched. Yes, things were coming along nicely. Except for a few minor annoyances, his plans were right on schedule.
Moz had been riding for three days when he came within sight of the border. Not that there was a bright, shining line separating Rend from Carttoom. What marked it was a series of forts set every hundred miles and manned by thirty scouts who patrolled the area for infiltrators. It wasn’t a foolproof system by any measure, but the scouts had enough skill to spot a large force. Moz should know, training them was his final task before retiring. A single person crossing the border was hardly a concern.
In fact, there were three places designated as border crossings where people could enter Rend or leave for Carttoom as long as they registered with the border guards. Enough time had passed that there was even a little trade between the kingdoms, not much, but enough to be encouraging. Not that Moz held much hope of it lasting. The wars had been flaring up and dying down for three hundred years and he didn’t expect that to change minus major changes in one or the other country.
He shook his head and nudged his horse into motion. He had more pressing matters than politics. He needed to find the Dark Sages’ base and learn what they were up to and how Ariel fit into those plans. He guided his mount down a narrow deer trail. The nearest fort had sent their patrols east today, so he should have a window to slip through unnoticed. And should he encounter a patrol, his ranger uniform should be enough to convince them he acted on the king’s orders. If they bothered to check, he’d be long gone before an answer arrived.
Much as he enjoyed hanging around with the kid, it was good to be out on his own again. This was where he belonged. This was where he could do some good.
Three days resting and getting their strength back at Randall’s manor did Yaz a world of good. Ever since he killed his former master—he couldn’t bring himself to
think of the man by name—Brigid had been looking at him differently. She didn’t hate him, at least he hoped she didn’t, but there was definitely something between them now. Much as he disliked that new distance, Yaz couldn’t bring himself to regret what he’d done. If Yaz had the power, he’d have struck down in an instant everyone that had anything to do with taking his parents away. He didn’t, more’s the pity, so he’d have to hunt them down one at a time.
He packed the last of his gear, slung his saddle bag over his shoulder, and took up his new staff. It wasn’t ironwood, but oak was a fair substitute. He felt better having it in hand and the staff wouldn’t attract attention the way their spears did. Brigid was happy to have hers as well. They’d gotten lucky when Randall offered them access to his armory.
He sighed. It would be a shame to leave the fine accommodations Randall had provided. The merchant had given them each a private room nicer than any inn they’d stayed at. The feather bed was especially welcome given how little sleep Yaz had gotten over the last few weeks. Still, comfortable or not, he wouldn’t find his parents holed up here. It was time to move on. Port Steel was waiting and Yaz meant to pry answers out of it, one way or another.
Satisfied that he had everything, Yaz stepped out into the hall and nearly ran Silas over. The wizard had his own bag tucked under his arm and Wicked flew at his shoulder. He had on his comfortable, worn traveling gear. They’d packed away the mercenary outfits for now. No one had seen any wanted signs since leaving the City of Bells so hopefully word hadn’t reached this far yet.
Randall had offered to contact the Scriveners Guild but held out little hope of changing their minds given how little influence he had over them. Yaz appreciated the effort even if it yielded no results.
“Morning,” Silas said. “I’m sure going to miss this place.”
“Me too. Is Brigid up yet?”
“Haven’t seen her and her door’s still closed, so I doubt it. You want to knock?”
“Let’s give her a couple more minutes.” Yaz was already on her bad side, no reason to make it worse.
“Since we have some time to kill, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you. When we confronted the man from your village, what did you do to me?”
Yaz cocked his head. “Nothing, why?”
“Are you sure? It felt like something froze me in place. I couldn’t move a muscle and whatever was doing it came from you.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, Silas. I was so focused on my former master that I didn’t even see you. It was like staring down a narrow tunnel and his face was the light at the end. Whatever you felt, it wasn’t me that did it.”
Silas scratched is head. “Weird. Oh well, I guess it doesn’t matter. Whatever happened didn’t hurt or anything. I thought maybe you had an artifact or something secret like that.”
“Nope, no secrets. I’m an open book. There’s nothing special about me aside from my memory and while that’s useful, it’s hardly an earth-shaking talent.”
Brigid’s door opened and she stepped out with her gear and weapon. Lady Cobb had given her a fine white dress and it fit her perfectly. It wasn’t exactly practical for a fight, but they weren’t expecting any trouble for a while.
“Morning,” Yaz said.
“Morning. Time to go?”
“Afraid so. Randall’s waiting to show us to the barge.”
Another part of Randall’s thank you was paying for their barge tickets down the Wallowing River. It wasn’t a direct shot to Port Steel so they’d have to switch barges in a town called Roval, but still it would save them time and money.
“I’ll go see if everyone’s ready,” Silas said.
When he’d gone Brigid smiled a little. “I guess he wants us to talk.”
“Looks like.”
“I can’t believe you just killed those two in cold blood.” Brigid wouldn’t even look at him. “It was practically murder.”
“Is it murder to hang a criminal?”
“That’s different.”
“No, it isn’t. They were guilty and this was the only justice they were going to face. I know you don’t approve, but I did what I had to and if I had to make the choice again, I’d do the same thing. The people that destroyed our home and enslaved our families are going to answer for it, to the law if possible or to me. I swear before all the watching gods.”
She sighed but didn’t argue anymore. Yaz doubted he’d convinced her to see things his way, but that was beyond his control. They walked down the stairs side by side and found Silas waiting in the entryway with Randall. The merchant was dressed to the nines in a fine silk tunic and linen trousers all in shades of green. Gold rings glittered on his fingers.
“I’m sorry to see you all go,” Randall said. “For what you did, I’d happily let you live under my roof for the rest of your days.”
“We appreciate that,” Yaz said. “But there are other people out there that still need help. I couldn’t rest in comfort knowing that.”
They shook hands then Randall shook with Silas and Brigid. “The carriage is waiting. Your horses will be well tended here. Unfortunately, they aren’t allowed on the barge. But don’t worry, you’ll be able to buy new ones in Port Steel easily enough.”
They went outside and Yaz squinted in the bright sun. A green-and-gold carriage pulled by six fine black horses waited. A man in livery opened the door and they all piled in. It was a quick, quiet trip to the docks.
When the door opened and they had all gotten out Randall handed paper tickets to each of them. “The same outfit runs the barges all the way to Port Steel. You’re paid up for the whole journey so don’t let them try and charge you extra. Good luck, my friends. Should you ever find yourselves in need, my door will always be open to you.”
With that final goodbye, Randall climbed into the carriage and they were on their own. Yaz sighed, at once disappointed and eager to get on with the search.
A line of five people had formed at the farthest-east slip. A sixty-foot-long, shallow-draft barge was tied up to the pier. A canvas tarp tied to poles shaded three-quarters of its length. Yaz and his friends moved to the rear of the line.
“Where do we sleep?” Brigid asked.
In front of them, a stout woman in a homespun dress made of unbleached cotton turned and said, “Don’t worry, sweetie, the barge stops every night at riverside campgrounds. Nothing fancy, but there are lean-tos for all the passengers.”
“Are you going to Port Steel?” Brigid asked.
“No, just to Roval. My daughter lives there with her family. I go twice a year to visit. She married a well-to-do farmer. He owns over a thousand acres and keeps ten slaves. Pays for my ticket without a word of complaint. She got lucky when she landed him, let me tell you.”
Yaz tuned out the chatter. His sole hope was to make it to Port Steel with minimal complications. It would be hard enough convincing the slave masters to part with the sales information he needed. The last thing he wanted was to deal with any extra complications.
As he stepped onto the barge, he put aside what had happened so far, good and bad, and focused on the future. He was going to find out where his parents were. He could feel it.
The Dragons’ Graveyard
Chapter 1
Yaz yawned and twisted his neck to work out a kink. A saddlebag didn’t make the best pillow, but it was the only one he had. Ten days on a barge with nothing to do and camping on the riverbank in lean-tos left everyone in a miserable mood. The passengers were all ready for a night in civilization.
On the left side of the barge, a brawny man with a twenty-foot-long pole shoved them forward in time with his partner on the right. The Wallowing River lived up to its name. If the bargemen had relied on the current to carry them to Roval and the villages beyond, they’d be ancient before they arrived. As it was, tonight they’d reach their first town after leaving Fort Kane.
To kill time, Yaz spent most of his days exploring his mental library, rereading books he’
d memorized. Not exciting, but better than nothing. At least the nightly ordering of his memories didn’t take long. And without the chaos and violence they’d been dealing with, his sleep had been untroubled by nightmares. It was the sole benefit he’d found to traveling by barge. His companions, on the other hand, seemed to be having a ball.
Silas played cards for hours with some of the other guys on board. They only bet with copper scales so there was no real risk and anyone that pulled a knife on Silas would regret it immediately. As a skilled lightning wizard, Silas could take care of himself. Yaz sat in on a couple games, but after fifteen minutes had everyone’s tells memorized and got bored.
Brigid surprised him the most. She struck up a friendship with the older woman they’d spoken to on the Fort Kane docks. Her name was Dorthy and when she was a girl, she tended a flock of sheep just like Brigid. Yaz didn’t listen in on their conversations, but every night when they made camp, Brigid had a big smile. Whatever they discussed made her happy and nothing else mattered to Yaz.
He got to his feet and walked to the front of the barge. A few of the other passengers glanced his way as he passed, but no one spoke. There was no hostility in the gazes that tracked him, just indifference. Considering all the unwelcome attention they’d received over the last couple months, indifference suited Yaz fine.
Though slow, at least the river was smooth. There were few rocks and no rapids, just a gentle, steady current. No wonder so much merchandise went by river. Even in the spring he doubted there would be any danger.
A hint of smoke rose in the distance and when they rounded the next bend Roval appeared on the bank and with it the stink of sewage. It seemed everyone used the river like an outhouse. From this distance the buildings were little more than specks and the wall appeared six inches high. Docks jutted a third of the way out into the river. It was a welcome sight. Yaz dearly hoped they had a large, comfortable inn.
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