Dragon Chameleon: Episodes 1-4

by Wilson, Sarah K. L.

  “Nothing,” Zyla snapped.

  “Can ‘nothing’ be healed?” I pressed.

  “No.”

  “Can it be reasoned with?”

  She made an exasperated sound in her throat. “Listen, boy. I don’t have answers to all your questions. I was in that house where Hubric left me when I was surprised by those ruffians who call themselves Magikas. They hauled me off to the camp you found me in. I was there for one day before you showed up and your dragon saved us.”

  Someone knows who to credit.

  “That’s where I found Zin. I thought she was dead with my parents. So, I don’t have answers to all your questions – or any of them, really. Zin will talk when she’s ready.”

  “She’s not even talking to you?”

  “She’ll talk when she’s ready!” Zyla’s voice had a snap to it that made me think of a whip cracking. “Now, reach into that satchel and see what else there is.”

  I reached in.

  “A leather harness.”

  “With a wide piece of leather at the center?”

  “Yes.”

  “We’ll use that to disguise Saboraak. What else?”

  “An embroidered scarf. It’s kind of filmy.” I said. I felt weird doing this with her. “How do we sneak into the city?”

  “The scarf is for me.” She took it and wound it around her head and face, so I could see nothing but those mesmerizing eyes. “And it should be easy to sneak in. The Festival of Lights started yesterday, and it will go all week. Everyone will be distracted by the feasting and parades. We won’t interest anyone. We’ll fly in from the craggier side of Eski and try one of the smaller entrances.”

  “We’re flying a dragon. We don’t need to go in through a gate,” I objected, pulling from the satchel a wide embroidered belt with a sparkling silver buckle and a long leather strap with feathers sewn along it.

  “We do if we don’t want the city guard searching for us. All visitors pass through a city gate or don’t pass at all. We’ll find an inn there and lie low until I can meet my contact. And that belt is for you. The leather band is looped around your forehead four times and then tied.”

  “Like Bataar’s?”

  “He’s dressed like Kav’ai, isn’t he?” She sounded impatient.

  “How should I know?”

  She turned to gape at me. “You didn’t know?”

  “Of course not!”

  “Then why did you agree to help him? How did you know he would be on our side?”

  “It seemed like a good idea at the time. Why would a Kav’ai be on our side.”

  The look of fury on her face was only overshadowed by shock. “You mush-headed, sewer-dwelling, think-with-the-hair-on-your-chest ...”

  Had she run out of insults?

  “What?” I asked, letting my eyes go wide so I would look innocent. She was alive and out of the hands of Magikas and so was her sister. What more did she want?

  She took a long breath. “You need to learn to think before you act.”

  “If I did that, we’d still be fleeing from a forest fire and a bunch of guys on flying rugs. Instead, we’re on our way to a Festival.” I gave a bright – albeit false – smile. Maybe she could be distracted.

  Zyla rolled her eyes. “The Kav’ai hate Magikas. They found Bataar trying to sneak into the Dominion and snatched him up. They were hoping to get information about the rumors of Kav’ai magic. Everyone is saying they have an alternate source of power – one the Magikas are desperate for. I thought you knew that.”

  The city was growing closer and I focused on it instead of on her accusing eyes. Anyone could have made the same decision I did. After all, I needed an ally at the time, and Saboraak had insisted on Bataar.

  Don’t drag me into this.

  “So,” I said eventually, “what you’re saying is that Bataar doesn’t need any more disguise than what he has.”

  Zyla sighed so loudly that I was sure it was meant for me to hear. “Just listen to me from now on, okay?”

  Like I was going to promise that! I did what I thought was best, not what other people told me was best. Let their decisions kill or beggar them. That was their business. I looked out for me and I made decisions that kept me alive, and that was that.

  I huddled against the cold, doing my best not to touch Zyla despite the tight squeeze on Saborrak’s back. My heel throbbed uncomfortably. She was busy trying to get the headpiece to fit my dragon while Saboraak flew, and both of them were too occupied with that – a nearly impossible task – to berate me. For now.

  I crossed my arms. I never signed up to work with a bunch of girls who always thought I was the one to blame for everything. Shouldn’t they be glad to have me around? I’d saved both of their bacon more than once now. That doorway trick was ingenious.

  Ahead of me, the city grew closer and closer. It didn’t sprawl so much as climb. Who thought it was a good idea to build a city on an almost vertical mountainside?

  The buildings clung to the sides of the rock like nesting cliff swallows. Spiraling stairs and steep ladders led from building to building and formed soaring bridges from cleft to cleft.

  The buildings almost looked like tiny sculptures of the mountains. Their roofs were peaked and so steep that they were far higher than they were wide with round windows and many struts keeping the buildings in place along the steep mountainsides.

  Scores of people filled the ladder-and-stairs streets and narrow boardwalks between buildings, many of them carrying something that smoked in their hands. My feet were already itching to explore a new city. Would it be like Vanika with hidden spots only a few knew about? Could there be secret trade, and back alleys, and underground business in a place like this?

  I couldn’t wait to find out.

  “Here’s the gate,” Zyla said briskly. “Remember, let me do the talking.”

  Chapter Ten

  THE ‘GATE’ - IF THAT was what it was - was three times as tall as it was wide, but four different boardwalks passed through it – two on one level and two beneath them, not quite parallel, but squeezing through the structure. Two guards were posted at each boardwalk, looking outward and stopping each person to note their names in a logbook.

  Stairs climbing from below or descending from above or winding up in spirals led to the boardwalks and where they surged through the gates they were straight and flat. Everywhere else they were more vertical than horizontal.

  My eyes stung from opening so wide. I wanted to see everything at once. I’d lived in Vanika while it was still a skycity. I shouldn’t be impressed by this – but I was. I was imagining what it would be like to pick pockets and try a round of ‘find the weevil’ in this city.

  Wait. Observe and think. You’ll only get us in trouble if you rush in without watching first. When you live to deceive, you’ll often find you are as much the victim as the perpetrator.

  Dragons sure were a stuffy breed.

  Saboraak descended to the lower level of boardwalk and tucked in next to the rock wall. I could see why. Here, in the shadows, she was less conspicuous. The guards would notice her, but I doubted anyone else would pay her much mind.

  Animals, carts – how did they move carts up the stairs? – and people filled the boardwalks despite the early hour. Their backs and beds were heavy with packs and loads. And the animals were not horses, as I would have expected but a creature that looked like a large mountain goat.

  Those carts move on rails. Do you see that? The animals and people pull them along those metal rails. I see them going up the slopes, too.

  How would that help anything?

  Maybe they have a system that keeps the loads from slipping backward once they reach a certain level.

  If Saboraak could think like that, then maybe she should have been planning better dragon cities instead of careening through the countryside with me. Did dragons have cities?

  Our cities would make your eyes pop right out of your head.

  Yuck.

 
Your brain would get so hot from overuse that it would melt out your ears.

  That was so gross.

  I am not prone to exaggeration. I merely state the truth.

  Then keep me far away from dragon cities!

  “What’s that creature pulling the cart?” I whispered to Zyla.

  “A yudazgoat. They are native to these mountains.”

  We fell in line behind a cart and my eyes squinted as I looked for the rail Saboraak had seen. There it was. It made the load less maneuverable, but the path was also more predictable. I could see how that would help but there had to be more going on to make this possible. What if two carts wanted to go different directions on the same rail?

  Did you notice that everyone on this boardwalk is walking in the same direction? The other boardwalk on this level is walking the other direction.

  Weird. How did they get people to agree to that? If you told someone from Vanika that he could only walk in one direction on a road, he’d laugh in your face.

  This is not Vanika.

  Clearly not. Vanika made a lot more sense.

  From what you’ve told me, Vanika is a ruin on the edge of starvation.

  It still made more sense than this place.

  The guards pulled the cloth covering off the top of the cart, searching through the bags of cloth inside before letting it pass. The guard was still writing in the book he carried when his partner motioned us forward.

  Zyla sat up very straight in the saddle, a bright smile on her face.

  “Purpose of entry?” the guard asked.

  “We are here to do business with your potters’ guild,” Zyla said with a smile.

  “You look like you’re dressed for the festival,” the guard said smugly.

  “Do we? What a strange coincidence,” Zyla said with an equally smug smile.

  I felt my face contorting in confusion. Why did it sound like the guard knew she was lying and liked it? Why did it sound like she was teasing him with it?

  “And this creature?” he asked, poking Saboraak. I saw her head dip like it did before she flamed and I hoped she could hold in her temper.

  “My oosquer,” Zyla said.

  The guard made a note in his book, but his eyebrow quirked like he knew she was lying. “Then you’re from Kav’ai?”

  “From the northern reaches of Kav’ai where the cormorant nests,” Zyla said.

  He looked up sharply when she said cormorant and nodded before returning to his writing. “And the man? He is ill?”

  “Only injured. We seek the fine healers of Eski for help with him.”

  The guard snorted before running his eyes over Zin. “Honor to the Practitioners. Thank you for entering our city.”

  When she didn’t speak, that seemed to please him and he turned to me. “And you, boy?”

  I waited for Zyla to make an excuse for me, but the guards eyes tracked up to me and met mine. He made a motion like he wanted me to get on with it.

  “Yes, Kav’ai,” I said quickly.

  The guard rolled his eyes. “And you are from ...?”

  I was supposed to say which region? I didn’t know what regions there were in Kav’ai!

  “Ummm the ... region ... of ...”

  Zyla’s left hand, hidden from the guard, pointed urgently at my boot where the lightning had struck the heel. Was that a clue? Was there a boot region of Kav’ai? That didn’t make any sense.

  “Lightning,” I said in a rush.

  The guard looked up sharply and I felt Zyla tense in front of me.

  “You’re from the Lightning Region? You’re sure?” His eyes narrowed.

  Well, the best thing to do when you’re caught lying is to double down.

  “Are you calling me a liar?” I asked.

  I didn’t expect the gasp. Zyla’s gasp was to be expected. But both guards and every person in earshot gasped in unison before the guard flushed, his eyes flashing with anger.

  “Report to the central guardhouse in the pottery district of Eski by noon tomorrow to confirm your identities. Next!”

  Well, that didn’t seem so bad. I half expected him to challenge me to some kind of duel with that reaction.

  “You fool,” Zyla whispered the moment we were past the guards. “You’re going to get us all killed.”

  Chapter Eleven

  SABORAAK WAS RIGHT about the rails. The carts on the rails had little hooks that were loose and mobile in one direction, but which caught on a ladder if they tried to roll backward. It was an ingenious way to deal with the steady verticals in this strange mountain city.

  Along the road, there were hawkers, like in every city, except these hawked wares through windows instead of from carts on the streets. Prospective customers would line up along the rungs of ladders for their turn to buy from the steaming warm windows and merchants with sleeves rolled up despite the cold were quick to take orders at one window and deliver the wares through the next one further up the ladder.

  Zyla avoided the roads with the rails and merchant windows, quietly directing Saboraak to a series of back ladders and staircases that seemed to lead deeper and deeper into the hidden parts of the city. I thought we should avoid ladders altogether. Saboraak’s approach to them was to simply hop to the next level and avoid them altogether. I wasn’t fool enough to speak that thought out loud.

  We found a back alley buried inside a stone crevice, and by the look of the debris on the staircases, it was meant for waste and hidden dealings.

  “There’s an inn somewhere along here,” Zyla muttered a few minutes after we found the back way.

  I didn’t want to say anything out loud, but I had no coin for an inn, and I doubted she did, either.

  “I can’t believe the guards thought we were from Kav’ai,” I said, hoping to soothe whatever was irritating her.

  “They didn’t. They thought we were Ko’Torenth nobility dressing up as Kav’ai for the festival.”

  “Then what was all that about cormorants?”

  She sighed. “It’s the traditional Noble Code of Ko’Torenth. We are expected to lie and to do it well and they are expected to pretend our lies are true but listen for the hidden code behind our words.”

  “That’s ridiculous!”

  “That’s culture.”

  Ha! The joke’s on you, Tor. It’s hard to ply your trade as a liar when you’re in a whole city of people who lie better than you do.

  I felt as though someone had thrown a bucket of lukewarm water over me. Great. Just great. I was like a declawed cat in a city of tigers.

  Apt.

  She could laugh all she wanted. She’d have to lie low in this city of few dragons, and from what I could tell, that meant spending her time in these back alleys that smelled like vomit and last night’s dinner.

  They also smell like blood. Violence has touched this place.

  “So what did the cormorant comment mean?”

  “He was asking me what level of noble I am. I chose a low house symbol – cormorant.”

  “And what did it mean when I said ‘lightning’?”

  “That you think you’re royalty. You’re lucky he didn’t kill you for the audacity of such a lie. Here we are,” Zyla said. “The Leaping Lizard Inn.”

  Would Saboraak consider herself a leaping lizard?

  I most certainly would not.

  “Okay,” Zyla said, as she leaned Bataar over the saddle and dismounted. “You bring Zin and Bataar inside and find a place for Saboraak. I need to go find a healer for Bataar.”

  “Whoa,” I said, leaping off of Saboraak’s back. “You’re the one who knows the people here, and I don’t think it’s safe out there. I have a bad feeling about this place.”

  “Then what do you suggest?”

  I rubbed the back of my neck. “I’m worried about leaving Saboraak here in the middle of a strange city. She sticks out like ... like a massive dragon. Anything could happen.”

  Noble. But I assure you, I will be fine. I can flame this whole city if I n
eed to.

  “But,” I continued. “I’m also worried about you. How do we know who we can trust? What if someone tries to grab you out there? They did once before.”

  “Stop fussing. Your dragon will be fine.” As she spoke, she tapped twice on a door that looked like every other back door along the alley. “But we need a healer here immediately and we need to negotiate with the innkeeper and manage the injured. If you’re too worried to let me go find a healer then you will have to do, mud boots.”

  “Mud boots?”

  “It’s a word we use for yokels.”

  “I’m from the city!”

  Zyla ignored me, helping Zin down as she waited for the door to be answered. “You need to follow this alley until it comes out to a main square. Go up a few levels until you see a tall building with green doors and shutters with oak leaves carved into them. That’s a house of healing. They’re scattered throughout the city on the upper levels. Bring a healer here however you can. Can you do that?”

  I felt myself pull back. She didn’t think I could handle a simple chore?

  “Obviously,” I said, offering her an elaborate bow. “Whatever the lady wants, she shall have.”

  And this way she and the others would be in one safe place and not wandering around the city like vulnerable chicks away from the hen.

  I am no chick.

  “I want six trained warriors, a bag of gold, and a man who speaks every language of Everturn, but I suppose I will have to make do with you,” Zyla said. I didn’t like the way she raised her eyebrows when she spoke like that. It was like she was judging me.

  “What’s Everturn?” I asked.

  “The name of the world we live in,” Zyla said, rolling her eyes and then, as we heard the door opening, she waved a hand in a hurrying motion. “Now be off with you!”

  And don’t forget this spider.

  I had completely forgotten about the spider! I hurried to Saboraak’s muzzle, taking the proffered spider from her snout.

  It was sticky.

  I’ve been carrying it for hours. What did you expect?

  Ugh.

  Behind me, I heard Zyla speaking urgently to a man with a long apron and a close-fitting cap. I ducked out of sight and scurried up the alleyway – everything was ‘up’ in this city – shaking the spider to get the spit off of it.