Dragonseed

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Dragonseed Page 10

by James Maxey


  “And they didn’t expect us to capture one so quickly,” said Vulpine. “If Bazanel can reproduce the chemistry of the powder, I’m certain that valkyrie engineers can duplicate the mechanics, or even improve them. We can negate their advantage in short order. If there’s anyone left to kill at Dragon Forge when we’ve armed ourselves, I suspect we’ll have the advantage.”

  Chapelion looked up from the gun. “What do you mean, ‘if there’s anyone left to kill?’”

  “As Slavecatcher General, I receive reports on the conditions of slaves throughout the kingdom. There’s always some new outbreak of disease: malaria, leprosy, yellow-mouth, or cholera. I have the authority to impose quarantines on slave trading with infected abodes until these outbreaks run their course. I propose that we harness one of these diseases as a weapon. We need something with a high mortality rate, something easily spread, and something that doesn’t immediately produce symptoms. Our carrier will need to be healthy enough to get inside Dragon Forge, after all. There is currently an outbreak of yellow-mouth in the abode of Rorg. It doesn’t have quite the mortality rate I’d like… more than half its victims survive. But it’s active now, and spreads easily. A single infected human within the walls of Dragon Forge will cripple the place.”

  “You’ve given this some thought,” said Chapelion.

  “It’s the nature of my job,” said Vulpine. “I’ve spent years imagining responses to mass uprisings such as the one we face.”

  “Such imagination! Turning plague into a weapon of war,” Chapelion said, shaking his head. “Not even Blasphet ever latched upon such a plan.”

  “Do you object to it?”

  “No. I’ll dispatch a messenger to the valkyries at once. Sagen, here can serve as head of a squadron you select from among the aerial guard. The full treasury is at your disposal as well. Your plan is sound. Make it happen.”

  Vulpine lowered his head respectfully. “I’m honored by your trust.”

  “I recognize a great mind when I see one,” said Chapelion.

  CHAPTER EIGHT:

  CONSORT OF DEMONS

  JANDRA HELD THE silver bracelet in her fist as she knelt on the cobblestone road. She gave the metal ring a powerful whack against a stone. Anza raised an eyebrow as a shower of sparks erupted from the metal. She swiveled her head, as if trying to pinpoint some distant sound.

  Shay couldn’t hear anything out of the ordinary. They were well beyond the bustling activity of Richmond now, no more than a mile from the palace. They’d left the fresh horses from Burke’s Tavern in a stable in town to make a stealthier approach.

  It was still a few hours before dawn; Shay’s breath was coming out in great clouds. The world was perfectly still, quiet enough that the rustle of Shay’s coat as moved sounded loud.

  The sparks from Jandra’s magic bracelet swirled around them. The air began to smell as if a storm had recently passed through the area.

  “We’re invisible now,” said Jandra.

  “No we’re not,” said Shay, staring down at his hands.

  “The mirrors have a radius of about fifteen feet. Anyone inside can see clearly. If you’re outside the circle, the mirrors edit the scene and show only a background image.”

  Shay looked around. “I don’t see any mirrors.”

  “These aren’t the sort of mirrors you shave with. Magnetically Integrated Rapidly Rotating Optical Reversers are no bigger than a fleck of dust, all kept dancing on magnetic waves generated by the bracelet.” She slid the bracelet back on to her arm.

  Shay nodded, understanding at least part of her sentence. “You’ve made us invisible with magic dust?”

  Jandra rolled her eyes. “Shay, you’re going to have to trust me. I don’t have time to explain everything I …” Her face paled as she gazed off into the distance. Anza drew her sword and turned to follow Jandra’s gaze.

  “What?” whispered Shay, clicking the safety off his shotgun.

  “Put down your weapons,” Jandra said. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “Why did you fall silent? Did you see something?” Shay asked, looking toward Anza. He wasn’t going to put the safety back on until she relaxed. Anza stared into the dark, crouched as if ready to strike. Finally, she stood, the tension flowing from her body, and she silently slipped the sword back into its sheath.

  Jandra ran her fingers through her hair. “It… it’s hard to explain.”

  “Try us,” said Shay.

  Jandra didn’t look directly at his face as she spoke. “Fine. I stopped talking because I suddenly had the urge to rewire your brain.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “When I said I didn’t have time to explain everything, I found myself with the urge to reach out and physically rewire your brain. I wanted to give you some of my knowledge, until you were someone I could carry on a less frustrating conversation with.”

  Shay frowned. “I wasn’t aware I was such a difficult person to talk to.”

  “You’re not,” said Jandra. She brought her fingers to her lips and started to bite her fingernails. Lizard watched her hands carefully. She caught herself and lowered her hands to her sides. “The urge to alter your brain came from the goddess. She manipulated my memories so that I’d be a better companion for her. Now I’m thinking the same way she did. Maybe Hex was right. Maybe Jazz has tainted me so badly I can’t be trusted with power anymore.”

  As Jandra spoke, Anza wandered further up the road, about twenty feet away. She turned around and broke into a grin. She gave a thumbs-up sign.

  “That one I understand,” said Shay. “Apparently, we really are invisible. What I don’t understand is why you won’t admit to being a wizard. You use magic dust. You once possessed a genie. Why be coy about what’s so plainly the truth?”

  Jandra gave him a stern, serious look. “Jazz had the same powers I once had. It corrupted her. She allowed people to worship her, to think she was something more than human. I don’t want anyone’s worship. I think honesty is my best hope of avoiding corruption when I get my powers back.”

  “If you’re afraid of getting your powers back, why have we come all this way?” asked Shay.

  “I don’t see any other option. So much in this world is broken, and I need my powers back if I want to fix it. I could heal Burke’s leg, and restore Vance’s sight.” They’d left Vance in Thorny’s care; his sight had never returned after his fall from the roof. “I might even figure out why Anza can’t talk.”

  Anza tapped her foot on the cobblestones and looked toward the night sky.

  “Let’s move on,” said Jandra. “But not too fast. The magnetic field of the bracelet isn’t all that powerful. If we took off running, or encountered a strong wind, it would disrupt the pattern and we’d be visible again. It’s a good thing it’s a calm night.”

  Anza watched as the others walked toward her. Shay could tell the moment when they became visible to Anza by the way her eyes shifted their focus. He found himself increasingly comfortable with staring at Anza’s face. There was a lot she could communicate with only subtle motions of her eyes and mouth. Anza didn’t seem to mind being stared at. She projected a calm confidence when people were watching her. When Shay thought someone was watching him, he became self-conscious and awkward.

  While he was comfortable staring at Anza, he still felt uncomfortable if Jandra caught him looking at her. Anza was beautiful, feminine in her grace and balance, yet somehow the multitude of weapons she boasted removed all temptation to think of her in a romantic fashion. Jandra was different. At first, he’d been put off by the idea that she was a dragon’s pet. He’d assumed she’d be snooty and shallow, like other pets he’d encountered. Despite Jandra’s impatience with his questions, he found her to be anything but snooty. She seemed, instead, to be driven by a need to help and protect others. Perhaps it was arrogant of her to assume that she could fix the world’s problems, but Shay didn’t judge her harshly for this. He found himself attracted to her nobility. Of course,
he also found himself attracted to her in other ways. Even dressed in her ill-fitting, borrowed clothes, Jandra had a simple beauty about her that he found enticing.

  The Dragon Palace loomed before them like a mountain. The night felt colder in its shadow. Jandra pointed toward a tower. “I used to live there. See those high windows? My bed was just underneath them.”

  “It’s dark,” said Shay. “Do you think it’s empty?”

  “I’m keeping my fingers crossed,” she said. “I’m hoping Blasphet’s reputation kept visitors away.”

  Anza turned her head at the mention of the name.

  “Blasphet?” asked Shay. “The Murder God?”

  Jandra nodded. “He took over the tower after we fled. He’s dead now. I left my old genie by my bed; if someone has taken it, this mission is going to have a disappointing end.”

  “Is the genie in a lamp?” Shay asked.

  “No,” said Jandra. “Whoever named the device had a sense of humor. A genie is a Global Encephalous Nanite Interaction Engine. It was the source of my powers, not magic.”

  Shay thought that this was splitting hairs but decided not to argue, as by now they were less than a hundred yards from the palace gate. Four earth-dragon guards stood at attention. Unlike the rugged, battle-scarred warriors they’d faced in Burke’s Tavern, these guards were dressed in bright crimson uniforms.

  “We can’t sneak past them the way they’re spaced,” Jandra whispered.

  “Should we find another entrance?” asked Shay. “If we fight, the noise will bring other guards.”

  Anza looked at him and smirked. She unsheathed her sword silently as she pressed her fingers to her lips. She crouched, slipping off toward some decorative bushes near the road side. She quickly vanished from view.

  “I don’t think we’re going to have to worry about noise,” whispered Jandra, as she waited for Anza to work her own brand of magic.

  AS THEY SLIPPED through the gates into the palace, Jandra felt a sense of disorientation. Having spent her recent weeks living among men, she’d gotten used to moving through landscapes built on a human scale. Stepping back into the home of sun-dragons made her feel tiny once more. Sun-dragons stood more than twice as tall as any human, even in a relaxed state. From snout to tail, adult sun-dragons averaged forty feet. Burke’s loft at the central foundry would barely serve as a closet in the palace. The glazed ceramic bowls that sun-dragons used as drinking dishes could serve as a wash basin for her.

  Anza had hidden the bodies of the four guards she’d slain, but it was only a matter of time before the breach in security was noticed and an alarm went out. Their invisibility would lose its strategic value if ox-dogs were brought in to search for intruders.

  Perhaps sensing her worries, Lizard grew still. He was perched on her shoulder, one arm wrapped around her neck for balance. He had his head pressed against her cheek. Lizard’s breath was somewhat worse than dog-breath—his diet consisted mainly of bugs, worms, and small rodents he caught himself. She lifted her hand and stroked the side of his head to soothe him, and also to gently nudge his beak a little further from her nose. His scales were dry and warm.

  Jandra led Anza and Shay through a maze of hallways, arriving at last at the stone stairs that led up into the tower she’d once called home. A lone earth-dragon stood guard, but the stairway was broad enough that they could slip past him unseen. The earth-dragon cocked his head slightly as they neared. Shay’s coat made a noise as he walked, a faint swish swish. Jandra’s heavy boots also proved a poor choice of footwear for a stealth mission.

  They slowed their pace to a crawl. The guard turned his head away, looking incurious. They tiptoed past, holding their breath. Anza, in her leather moccasins, never made even the faintest sound no matter how swiftly she moved.

  They reached the top of the tower without any difficulty. Jandra had imagined a variety of worst case scenarios on their journey but so far their path through the palace was easier than she could have hoped. If her genie was still in the room, leaving the palace unseen would be no problem at all.

  She pushed the heavy oak door of her former home open. The room was much as she’d left it only a month ago. The chamber was the shape of a vast star, with high windows overhead through which moonlight filtered, painting the flagstone floor with patches of pale white. Blasphet had emptied the chamber of Vendevorex’s possessions. The room had once been filled with shelves stocked with books and curiosities. Jars of preserved snails and serpents, and skeletons of rabbits and turtles had all been learning aids in her study of anatomy. From a tender age she’d been led through dissections of sundry creatures, from the simplest slugs to the elaborate architecture of a bat’s wing. Looking at the bare walls she was astonished that an absence of pickled worms could make her feel lonely.

  After Shandrazel took the throne, the few meager items that Jandra could call her own had been brought back into the room. Her possessions were few: a small iron bed, its mattress stuffed with goose-feathers; a full length mirror in an oval wooden frame; a dresser upon which sat a collection of combs; a tall wardrobe; and a large oak trunk at the foot of her bed.

  Her spirits lifted when she saw the lid of the trunk open, and various books and papers scattered randomly around it. This was how she’d left it after she’d searched through the trunk for Vendevorex’s skullcap. She’d removed her tiara, donned his skullcap, and instantly discovered that his genie was more powerful than her own. Unfortunately, she’d donned the helmet on the same night that the Sisters of the Serpent had gone on a murderous rampage through the palace. This had launched Jandra into an adventure that had kept her from returning to the room. Her old tiara had been left sitting unprotected on her dresser.

  In the moonlight, it was impossible to see from across the room if the tiara still sat on the dresser. She held her breath as she led walked toward it. A low, ragged groan escaped her as she neared. The tiara was gone.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ve put you both in danger for nothing.”

  “It’s not here?” asked Shay. “Who could have taken it?”

  Jandra bit her nails as she thought. She said, “Hex was the only one who knew about the tiara’s power. Maybe some palace guard took it. It looked like silver. It could have been sold easily enough.”

  “You’ve mentioned Hex a time or two,” said Shay. “Why would he take this genie if he already had your other one?”

  “Hex would want to destroy both genies. He had an innate distrust of power.”

  “That’s an odd quality for a sun-dragon,” said Shay. “They’re the most powerful creatures of all.”

  “Hex didn’t believe that might made right. In fact, he thought that might always eventually turned into wrong. He thought that all kings were inherently immoral.”

  “In other words,” said Shay, “he was an anarchist.”

  “To the bone,” said Jandra. “Fortunately, this made him the perfect companion to stand by my side and face up to the goddess. She was the embodiment of a power that had corrupted absolutely.” She glanced into the mirror by the dresser, and then quickly looked away. With her baggy second-hand clothes and unwashed, tangled hair, she found herself frightening to look at. She sat down on the edge of her bed. Lizard hopped down from her shoulder. She stared down at the floor. “Until Hex betrayed me, I thought he was my best friend. I’m such an idiot.”

  Anza sat on the edge of the bed beside Jandra. Her eyes widened at how soft it was. She grinned and fell backwards onto the bed, her arms spread as she sunk into the silk-covered down.

  Shay picked up one of the bone combs on the dresser, turning it over in his hands. Vendevorex had carved it from the femur of a bull, using the nanites at his command to carve Jandra’s name in the surface of the comb hundreds of times in tiny decorative letters. Vendevorex had possessed the power to give her anything he could have imagined, but his gifts over the years had tended to be simple ones—object of bone and stone and wood rather than gold
or ivory. He hadn’t wanted her to become enamored with wealth.

  After a long, silent moment, Shay asked the question ringing loudly in Jandra’s mind. “So, now what?”

  Anza rolled over to her side, her head propped on her fist as she stared at Jandra. She obviously wanted to hear the answer to this as well.

  Lizard didn’t care about the question at all, assuming he even understood it. Instead, he hopped down to the floor and stared into the mirror. The row of bristly scales along his neck stood up as he spotted the small earth-dragon on the other side of the glass. He stretched out his claw, then snatched it back as the other dragon reached to touch him at the same time.

  Jandra got up and paced as she thought. If a guard had taken the tiara, it might be in the palace barracks, or it could be in Richmond at some pawn shop. Where could she begin the search for it? And what if it wasn’t a guard who took it, but Hex? The genies were too advanced to be destroyed outright, but Hex could hide them, maybe dropping them into the sea, or burying them like they’d buried the goddess’s genie.

  Jandra snapped her fingers. Lizard startled at the sound, jumping away from the mirror and leaping back onto Jandra’s shoulder.

  “We need to go to the mountains,” she said. “We’ll probably never find my old genie. But I know the location of a third one. It’s my best hope at regaining my powers.”

  Even as she said the words, she questioned their wisdom. They’d buried the goddess’s heart—her genie—to ensure that no unseen remnant of her could somehow be revived. Was she really so hungry for power that she was willing to go back and risk the return of the goddess? Was this her idea, or the idea of the unwelcome second passenger in her brain? For an instant, she started to tell the others it was a dumb idea, that they should just return to Dragon Forge and help Burke build guns. But thinking of Burke’s broken leg let her remember all the good she could do if she had her powers once more. She had to take the chance. What was there to fear? The goddess was dead. Her body had been burned. Genies responded to a person’s thoughts, and thoughts were the product of a brain, and Jazz’s brain had been reduced to cinders that had blown off in the breeze. The chances of recovering from that were somewhat remote, thought Jandra.

 

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