At least I was going to get a good look at the city! I couldn’t help the itch in my feet at the thought of that. It even blotted out the pain in my heel and the cold in the air.
Just try to be careful. I’m beginning to get attached to you.
I could even win dragon hearts in a city like this!
Keep telling yourself that.
Chapter Twelve
I EMERGED FROM THE alley just like Zyla said I would, and I barely managed to hold back a gasp as I stepped into the square. It was formed in a crevice in the mountain. Tall, sharply vertical buildings surrounded three sides of the small square, climbing up into the sky as if five or six of them were racing to grow above the others. I saw windows six or seven high and people in every window.
I studied the square while I turned the metal spider around and around in my hands. It was a strange little thing. It hadn’t spat out sparks or felt warm to the touch, but its metal surface sometimes felt ... spongy ... under my fingers. Like it had a bit of give in it. I wondered what it would take to trigger those lightnings. What one man could do, another man could do. I’d just need to pull it out in a sticky situation and see if it would do for me what it had done for the Magika back on the hillside.
In the alleys, lines of clothes drying intersected with one another, but here in the square it was lines of small bells and every wind that whistled through the craggy open area jingled tunes unique to itself.
The building nearest me was a bakery and the smells coming from it made my mouth water. I could spend a day in the square and be happy to have spent it here.
People filled every inch of available space, even rubbing up against the raised statue at the center – a rising creature portrayed as rocketing skyward on a carved trail of wind and ... ash? It was hard to tell.
I couldn’t stay here all day. I couldn’t learn the ebb and flow of the city like I might want to. I needed to get up two levels and find this house of healing.
I scanned the square looking for the closest ramp, or stair, or ladder. A likely looking spiral staircase - packed with people going up while a parallel one was equally tight with people going down – was only accessible by crossing the square.
Taking a deep breath, I jammed the spider inside my shirt, wrapped my cloak around me, and plunged into the mass of bodies. The spider’s stiff metal legs dug into my chest every time someone bumped into me, but I didn’t dare lose it. I’d seen what it did in battle and I was too curious to lose it before I tried it myself.
I tried to find a shoal of people moving in the direction I was going, but everyone was intent on their own business and none of them moved with the purpose I needed.
In the end, I shoved forward, maneuvering step by step across the square, dodging one person only to have to plant myself in the path of another. There! An opening was forming in front of me. I leapt into it, surprised when no one else filled the gap. I teetered for a moment on one foot before catching myself and looking around.
The crowd had parted around the central statue, leaving a space almost three people wide around it. As I stood motionless in the gap, I watched the crowd draw back further.
How were they even finding room to pull back – and why now? Was this statue a fountain about to rain down water?
I glanced around, trying to make sense of it until I realized that as many people as were staring at the central statue were also staring at me, eyes wide as saucers. I scrambled backward, trying to join the crowd. How did people go from loose individuals to an impenetrable wall?
There was a gasp from the wall. I spun around to look up to the statue, desperate to know what was coming next.
A man stood at the base of the statue, his eyes turned upward as if looking at the sky. Well, there was nothing strange there. It must feel claustrophobic to him in the middle of these tall buildings and people.
He moved so suddenly that I jumped. He spun in place, his head snapping down to look at the crowd below – no, not the crowd – at me.
Our eyes met across the gap and my breath caught in my throat.
In the depths of his eyes, light swirled like a silver tide rising. It blotted out his irises and pupils until his eyes were nothing but silver – liquid, shining, but possessed of an otherworldly quality that made me shiver.
I wanted to run, but my feet wouldn’t move. I reached into my shirt and drew out the spider. Would it even work for me? It looked like nothing but a wrought metal spider in the light of day. My hands shook as I held it up in front of me. Okay, spider, work your magic!
Nothing happened.
The man raised a hand, his index finger pointing right at me.
Gasps filled the air as every eye swiveled to where I stood.
My mouth was suddenly dry.
“You!” he breathed. “You have it!”
Maybe I shouldn’t have taken that spider after all. Not only was it useless, but now it was drawing attention.
The man’s index finger began to tremble and then the silver in his eyes burst, splattering across his face and hair and dripping like hot wax in long trails to his feet. It pooled there, as if each drop was seeking out the others, not random, but alive.
I was tumbling backward before I realized it. But everyone else was pushing backward, too. Somewhere behind me, the screams started.
And then figures erupted around the man as I knew they would. They formed out of the heavy snowflakes in the air, swirling messily around him. Like small, personal demons formed of snow and silver, they whirled and grew.
I knew I should shut my eyes.
I’d seen this twice before and that was twice too many times. But my eyes would not shut even though they burned, tears streaming down my face from the wind and the cold. Not tears from stress or fear. Just from the wind and the cold. That’s probably why I was frozen in place. I was just too cold.
What’s happening? What’s wrong?
Trouble, Saboraak. Stay with the others! No one else needed to get hurt. Not when I was pretty sure it was me that they wanted.
The snowy creatures pounced on their creator. A ripping, wet sound end in a high-pitched squeal that went on and on. Then, like a snowball breaking against an old wall, the creatures burst into a puff of snow and steam.
When the cloud of their remains settled, there was nothing left of the man with the silver eyes.
I didn’t wait for someone else to break the silence. I didn’t dare wait. I ducked under the arm of a man right behind me, quickly bent double and began pushing my way through the crowd, head down and refusing to be stopped. The insistent drum of my heart filled my ears and guided my feet. Forward. Forward. Forward.
Yells and curses followed me. I didn’t dare turn to see who was following them. Whoever they were, they weren’t going to be friendly. I pressed on through the crowd, weaving and dodging.
Were those faces I was passing? All I saw were expressions: confusion, surprise, hate. Did they see what happened? Would they turn on me?
I didn’t dare stay long enough to find out. Just another corner and I’d be only another member of the crowd. I pushed harder. I wished that I could run forever until there wasn’t a single man left with silver in his eyes. What could I possibly have that they wanted? I was poor as mud without even a decent set of clothes to my name! Unless it was the spider. I could see wanting that – though it hadn’t produced any lightnings to defend me.
I shoved it back in my shirt as I finally reached the spiral staircase leading upward. I pulled the hood of my cloak up over my head, joining the slowly ascending line of people. Was that man pointing to me as he spoke to a man dressed in dark emerald? How about the woman with the wide apron frowning in my direction? Everyone I passed was a potential threat.
I didn’t breathe a sigh of relief until I reached the second level and left the slow train of people to push onto a narrow boardwalk above. I needed to get a hold of myself. I needed to find that house of healing. That was all. Whatever happened in the square had nothing
to do with me. No one could blame me for it.
Now, where was this green-doored building?
I saw it as soon as I scanned the boardwalk – a tall white building with green doors and long green banners hanging from the upper windows. Perfect. I’d do my job and get out of here like nothing ever happened.
Was that a man pointing to me? Nonsense. He must mean someone else. For a moment, I almost thought it was the same man in the green coat I’d seen a level below. But no, it must be a uniform.
That had better not be the city guard of Eski! I did not want to get on their bad side the second I set foot in their city.
I sidled nonchalantly to the first green door and then, as soon as the crowd surged and took me out of the gaze of the man in the emerald coat, I slid to the door.
I took one last look back before I shut it behind me. A flash of purple caught my eye. It couldn’t be ...
The crowd shifted again, and I caught a clear look at the face of a man in a purple Magika robe. Across the sea of people, our eyes met. I gasped, ducking in the door, my heart pounding. That was impossible! He couldn’t possibly be here!
But I’d never forget the face of the man who tortured me.
Shabren the Violet.
Chapter Thirteen
“WELCOME TO THE HALLS of the Oak,” a voice said, and I whirled to see a man smiling gently at me. He was dressed in white furs and wore a wreath of oak leaves around his neck. “Can I take you to see one of our healers?”
I glanced back at the door behind me. I needed to get further into the building. Shabren and the guards would not be far behind.
“Yes, please,” I said.
The room we were in was some sort of anteroom. There were chairs and a fire and a wide stone basin full of glowing embers. All of it clean, fresh and tidy. Dax the White – one of the Dragon Riders I’d known in Vanika – would have loved this place. As a healer, he was always very specific about keeping things clean and well recorded.
The man smiled gently. “If you’d follow me, then.”
He moved gracefully, but slowly, down a smooth-walled hall and I nearly stepped on the backs of his heels in my hurry to go faster.
“I need to see a healer right away,” I prompted.
“Yes,” he said with a smile.
“I’m in a hurry!”
He frowned, still gentle like a beloved uncle. “Hurry helps no one. What causes this haste?”
I opened my mouth, but I felt suddenly tongue-tied. I was used to spinning out a lie at a moment like this, but these people were used to liars. Maybe the best thing to do where they were concerned was to surprise them with the truth. I looked over my shoulder, worried that Shabren might be right behind me.
“I have a hurt friend,” I blurted out. “He needs help right away.”
“Is that why you came here wearing a black cloak?”
“What?” I was so confused. What could he possibly mean?
Tor?
Saboraak! She needed to know that I’d seen Shabren in the crowd.
Tor, there’s trouble here!
My eyes lost focus for a moment as I tried to turn inward to sense what emotion that was filling her words.
I sensed a movement out of the corner of my eye and came back to focus just in time to see the man with the oak leaf wreath heft an axe from off a bracket on the wall.
“I’m taking you to the authorities, boy. Don’t try to run. I’ll make as much coin from bringing you dead as I would alive.”
I spun, looking for an escape route and he rushed toward me, brandishing his axe.
I stumbled to the side, barely dodging his wild blow as his axe crashed into the stone, sparks flying where its edge hit the wall.
What in the-
Bataar is a wanted man! Somehow word is out that we have him and that we will be looking for a healer. Don’t go to the house of healing.
Too late. And I looked a lot like Bataar with this band wrapped around my head! I ripped it off and threw it to the ground.
The wild healer was charging for a second attack and I scrambled down the hallway, pulling a vase down from an alcove and throwing it behind me. Anything to gain a few strides on him and that axe!
There was a cry from behind us at the entrance and a deep shout. That wasn’t Shabren, was it?
I launched forward at twice the speed. I needed Saboraak! I couldn’t manage this part on my own. I rushed to a circular metal stairway, pounding up the steps, my legs on fire with the effort. They were going to be strong after a week in this vertical city.
You’re going to have to manage on your own. I’m busy here.
Well, that was convenient. She was busy, was she? Maybe I’d be busy the next time her life was threatened. Maybe I should have been less worried about her safety in Eski and more worried about my own.
Don’t be childish. You’ll be fine. Just don’t die.
Yeah, that was the plan.
I could hear footsteps right behind me and my breath came faster and faster, searing my lungs with fiery pain. But that was nothing compared to the pain that would greet me if that axe hit me. There was a door at the top of the stairs and I rushed through it and then threw myself against the wall right beside the doorframe.
This was another hall. I didn’t know where it led or how to get out of this place or who else might be looking for me with axes in their hands.
Below me, I heard footsteps pounding up the stairs and shouts. Shouts meant more people. People with axes. My chest was heaving, and I tried to calm my breathing down. What was the best way to deal with a problem?
One step at a time.
Good advice. Step one: deal with the axe. My pursuer had an axe. I did not. This needed to change.
I took a deep breath as the footsteps grew closer. The second the door beside me was flung open, I launched myself forward, head curled down so I could hit him in the face with my skull. I felt the crack on the top of my head, but I gritted my teeth, refusing to recoil from the impact. My attacker stumbled to the side, colliding with the half-open door and falling to one knee. His axe fell from his hand, skittering across the stone floor and into the hall.
I scooped up the axe and plummeted down the hall.
Step one, complete.
Now the man chasing me was down one axe and I was up one axe – not that I planned to use it. I shuddered at the thought of cleaving a person like one might cleave wood.
No time for that!
There was a window at the end of the hall. I could try one of the heavy doors along the way, but I had no idea what could be in them and I could end up trapped in a room with no exit.
There was a shout behind me and I risked a glance over my shoulder. Men with oak-leaf wreaths around their necks were rushing through the door and down the corridor. No time to make plans. I was a betting man. It was my fault and also my strength.
Time to bet that I could jump out a two-story window and live.
Don’t do it! Human’s are fragile! You will break yourself!
Not if I did it right.
I sped up, excitement coursing through my veins. I never felt so alive as when I was being chased. I jammed the axe handle into my belt. It had better hold! That thing was heavy.
You’re crazy.
The window loomed ahead, big and bright – easy to vault through. I measured my steps by eye, counting, ready ...
“Stop!” That was Shabren’s voice. No time to turn and confirm.
I reached the ledge at the exact right moment, letting my momentum help as I lifted both legs while my hand found its place on the ledge.
I leapt, flying through the window, spinning to turn toward the wall.
Was I right?
I’d better be right.
Yes!
A green banner hung from just below the window, exactly as I’d been betting on. I grabbed it frantically, sliding down it as my grip slowed me. There!
I slowed to a stop, dangling free over the side of a building set in the
side of a cliff. I could see the little boardwalk below and below that vertical city falling down, down, down beneath me – and below that clouds, and below that ... who knew? Death, perhaps.
One step at a time!
Oh yes. This was the step where I got to the ground faster than they did.
I let the fabric slide through my hands, dropping me down until I was almost at ground level. I’d have to drop free the last few feet. I let go, falling into a crouch on the boardwalk.
Around me, people gaped, stopping to stare at my sudden acrobatics.
No time to stare back.
I sprinted down the boardwalk. I needed an alley. Preferably one with laundry hanging to dry. There! I paused in the entrance, glancing backward and nearly froze like the crowd.
Something was coming out of the same window I’d leapt from – not a man, or at least, not only a man. It was a flying rug with three men sitting on it, and one of them was Shabren the Violet.
Chapter Fourteen
I DUCKED INTO THE ALLEY, running as fast as I could. I’d done this before. I needed to remember that.
I’d run from the city guard, from merchants, from angry citizens, from fire, and from dust demons. I could do this.
Step three, change how I look.
There! A washing line hung along the alley, some of the clothing hanging low enough for me to grab them. I snatched anything I could reach and kept running. The alley was dark and grimy, but there were fissures in the stone wall it butted up against. I was looking for one the exact right size – big enough to hold a man.
The first one was occupied. Someone about my size was curled up in the shadow there, sleeping. Good to know that people like me lived here, too – people surviving on luck and brashness.
There was another crevice up ahead. Unoccupied. Good. My luck hadn’t run out yet.
I ducked inside and examined what I had. A light red cloak, threadbare and not nearly as warm as the dark one Hubric had given me. Reluctantly, I exchanged them, hiding the axe and the fancy belt beneath the cloak.
Dragon Chameleon: Episodes 1-4 Page 13
