Dragon Assassin

by Arthur Slade

Then I grabbed onto the edge of the roof and held myself over the window.

  “You’ll pay! You’ll pay! You’ll pay!” he shouted, each word getting louder as he charged toward the window.

  I let go and came down like a bag of bricks just as Gregum stuck his head out. I connected with his skull but didn’t hear any bones crack. He smashed against the windowsill, though, and I kept going, down to the ground.

  I landed hard. I wasn’t certain whether I’d broken my ankle. A quick glance over my shoulder showed me he was moving slowly, holding his head and groaning. He’d be fully awake in moments, but at least I’d have more time to get away from the mansion.

  The problem was that Brax couldn’t just swoop down to pick me up. The guards would see him and discover there was a dragon.

  I ran into the mansion, then out through the nearest door and into the front courtyard. The guard dogs were already barking and a warning bell rang behind me. It was dark enough, and I was fast enough, to make it to the wall without being spotted. I took the steps three at a time, barely keeping my balance. My hand was aching, but I didn’t want to look at it. It felt like I’d burned a finger or two right off.

  I made it to the top of the wall and turned to run along the walkway. A guard threw himself in front of me, his sword in hand. I dodged him, but slipped to the ground using my burnt hand as support. I let out a yell of pain, then kicked him in the knees so he clattered down the stairs.

  I stumbled along the wall walk. I was glad I’d chosen the side that faced away from the city.

  “Boo! Boo! Boo!” I said, my best approximation of a whiskered screech owl.

  Nothing appeared in the sky.

  I made the noise over and over and over, running at top speed. I’d soon run out of wall walk.

  Was Brax deaf? I sounded like a bleating goat, my voice getting higher and higher pitched.

  A crossbow bolt stuck into the wall below me. The guards were all on the ground, aiming their bows. Another bolt grazed my leg. A third went right through my robe.

  And there was no sign of Brax yet. Not even a distant shape in the sky.

  Then I saw a blur below me on the opposite side of the wall.

  I jumped toward it.

  Chapter 4

  Words on a Mountain

  “That wasn’t a whiskered screech owl,” Brax said. The wind whipped his words back to me. “It sounded more like a sick cow. So I wasn’t certain if you were calling me.”

  I clutched a spike on his back with my left hand. My right hand wouldn’t close because it hurt too much. Brax had timed it perfectly by flying below the wall and out of sight. I’d made a desperate and lucky jump.

  “You could have been here a lot faster,” I said. We were speeding away from the mansion. It wasn’t until the first branch hit me that I realized we were not going skyward. “What are you doing!” We were smashing right through a grove of olive trees.

  “I don’t want them to see me,” Brax said. He sounded a little snarky. “The next thing you know there’ll be soldiers and dragon hunters and, well, it gets messy. So we’re staying low.”

  “We’re flying through the trees!” I shouted.

  “Yes, we are. And it will only hurt one of us.”

  Another branch smacked my head, and I lowered myself even flatter against his scales. Smaller branches scratched along my back.

  “Oh, do watch your head,” he said, perhaps knowing he was too late. “This will get tricky. If only I had both eyes, I might avoid a few branches.”

  A branch as thick as my arm bounced off the top of my skull and almost knocked me into the air.

  “You’re hitting those branches on purpose!” I shouted.

  “I am not!” Brax said. “It’s not my fault they keep reaching for you.”

  We continued to smash our way through the grove. At times we glided only a few inches from the ground. Brax weaved and wove to avoid the trunks. After what seemed like hours we came out the other side. We were now a great distance from the walls. Brax slowly ascended. “See,” he said once we were level with the clouds. “That worked out.”

  “For you.” Branches and leaves filled my hair, but I didn’t want to let go to brush them out. My head ached, and I still didn’t dare look at my injured hand.

  In time we came to the lone mountain that had been my home for the last few weeks. We landed on a high ledge, and I was pleased to see my tent hadn’t been blown away by the winds. A pile of sheep and ram bones was next to the tent and a few scavenger birds took off, squawking, as Brax settled his wings.

  I slid off and collapsed on the stone I’d turned into a bench with a few blankets.

  “You look like battered dung,” he said. “I take it your well-planned plan didn’t go so well.”

  “Gregum is still alive,” I admitted.

  “No surprise. You don’t have the guts to kill your enemies.”

  “That doesn’t take guts!” Shouting made my hand hurt more, as if the anger was sending the blood there.

  “Your kindness will be the death of you.” He stared down at me, his one remaining eye glowering.

  “It’s the last thing I’ve got,” I said, not even certain what I meant. Why couldn’t I be more like my brother?

  I peeled away the tatters of the leather glove on my right hand.

  “Oh,” Brax said. “You really hurt yourself. With what?”

  “Acid.” It had burned two holes right through my palm. There was very little blood, and it seemed the acid had missed melting my bones. So Belaz had been watching over me.

  But just moving my hand caused such pain. I dug around until I found my waterskin. The mountain-cold water cooled my flesh and flushed out what remained of the acid. The pain lessened to the point my thoughts became clearer.

  “You’ll need something colder,” Brax said. And without another word he flapped his wings and vanished into the darkness.

  What to do for acid? It wasn’t like I could walk into the library and ask Maestru Beatrix for a book. Just the thought of that made me wince and feel a sense of longing for that room full of books. And for her calming presence.

  One more reason to kill Corwin.

  I knew that water diffused acid. More cold would take away the pain, but I’d need to put a salve together with the few herbs and materials I had on me. Already, my hand was throbbing to the point it became hard to think.

  A clump of snow hit my shoulder. I looked up in time to see several more large chunks rain down around me, hitting my head and shoulders and forming a pile on the bench.

  Brax landed silently across from me, snow caught in his wings, his snout and his hands. “It’s not clean, but it’s the best I could do. Sorry for dropping so much on you.”

  I scooped some up and pressed it against my hand. The numbness took the edge off. “Thank you,” I said.

  “Just fulfilling my side of the bargain,” he said. But he seemed to have what passed for a smile on his face. “You have a high tolerance for pain, Carmen. Most humans would be screaming their heads off by now.”

  “I’m good at gritting my teeth,” I said through gritted teeth.

  “Brush off the snow,” Brax said. I did so, and he poked his nose near my hand and said, “It’s not so bad. Once it’s frozen enough, be sure to clean out the wound with your good water and use a salve of mincegus.”

  “I have nothing that fancy,” I said. “But I’ll make do.”

  “Good,” he said. Then he looked me directly in the eyes. “You should have killed him.”

  “I am not my brother,” I said.

  “Well, your brother is living in a palace in Akkadium and you’re here freezing on the side of a mountain covered with bird droppings. One of you has the wrong attitude.”

  “I don’t kill people without good reason!”

  He made an exasperated motion with his talons. “One does not argue with the mad or the insane. That’s something my mother used to tell me.” He moved a few feet away. He was nowhere near as ski
nny and wasted as he had been several weeks ago. Eating a sheep or two a day and whatever deer and elk he could catch had brought meat into his stomach and back onto his bones. “I need my breakfast. May I go eat now, Master?”

  If my hand didn’t hurt so much I might have punched him. “Don’t call me that. I’m not your master.”

  “I know,” he said. “But the title aggravates you so.”

  “You’re welcome to eat whenever you want. I need to rest.”

  “Ta-ta,” he said. Which, coming from something of his size, sounded ridiculous. He dived off the edge and winged toward the valley below us.

  I leaned against the rock wall behind me. The sun was rising, but I knew it wouldn’t bring a lot of warmth to these heights.

  I washed the wound out as he had suggested and then packed it with my salve and stretched cotton bandages across. I scarfed down a few biscuits I’d bought several days ago, pausing to brush off the bit of mould that had grown on one. They were rock hard and tasted horrible, but I needed something in my stomach.

  Then I went through the folds in my robe and took out the things I’d recovered from Gregum’s room.

  Two paper scrolls and the doll.

  When I opened the first scroll, I saw the name Banderius at the top. Banderius! I’d promised my maestru I’d find him. Below his name was a paragraph of writing in Oldtongue. We hadn’t been taught that ancient language, but the scroll must be important or Gregum wouldn’t have had it.

  I put it away and unrolled the second scroll. It was a list of names, locations, and descriptions of assassins. There were lines drawn through several. Thankfully, I didn’t recognize the first bunch of names.

  But in the second group I saw Maestru Xerithus. He had cared for the gardens and he’d always kindly and patiently answered any questions about herbs or poisonous leaves. A line cut through his name.

  I didn’t see the names of any other maestrus or students in the next group. These must only be the assassins who escaped the fortress or didn’t attend the graduation. The ones who were killed on graduation night had to be on another list, for I also didn’t see Maestru Alesius. Maybe Corwin had divided up lists of the remaining assassins and given them to Gregum and Scyllia to hunt down.

  At the bottom I saw a name I knew.

  Megan. Red hair. Scar on cheek. Thespian Way Avenus.

  My classmate Megan. Being on this list indicated she had lived through the red graduation, but it also meant that Gregum and Corwin knew where she was hiding.

  Her name didn’t have a line through it.

  They would soon be travelling to kill her.

  Chapter 5

  A Loyal Creature

  By the time Brax returned, several hours had passed. I’d packed all my gear in my knapsack and used it as a pillow, getting a few minutes of sleep. I scanned the names on the scroll several times. Thord was not on the list. I didn’t know what that meant. Had they caught him before he could escape? Or was he on a different list? There were likely agents from the emperor combing every part of the Five Realms and the Empire to find the last living assassins.

  My hand continued to hurt. I’d used the snow to freeze the pain several times and dressed the wound again.

  “Leaving so soon?” Brax asked as he landed on the ledge. “I was beginning to like this place. The muttons are plump. The farm women are plump too.”

  “You weren’t eating humans!”

  “No.” He smiled a big smile. Chunks of meat and sheep hide were stuck between his teeth. “Just making mention that creatures are well fed in this valley.”

  “We have to fly to Avenus,” I said. “One of my friends — a fellow student, I mean — is there. She’s in danger.”

  “That’s a long way to go just to visit a classmate. I’m sure she’s aware of the danger she’s in.”

  “She doesn’t know they have discovered exactly where she is,” I said. Megan had been cruel to me, calling me Cyclops to my face. She had wanted me to be a showpiece of her business — the girl with the eye patch who took all the orders and did nothing. And yet, Megan had come to my door on graduation night and warned me about what was unfolding.

  “I owe her,” I said.

  “You are a loyal creature,” Brax said. “It’s admirable.”

  “Are you being sarcastic again?”

  The look on his face surprised me. It was almost as if he had respect. “No. You are admirable, Carmen Crow. Loyal and conscientious. You’re loyal to an assassin guild that no longer exists. I find it confusing. My own loyalties made me an outcast, but here you are with only the clothes on your back and an old knapsack and you’re thinking of a classmate.”

  “I do have a dragon on my side,” I said.

  “A pitiful dragon, if there ever was one. A dragon ruled by a human. But I see you are packed and your eyes and mind are set. You won’t even give me time to digest properly.”

  He went down on all fours. I grabbed my knapsack and tied it on my back, then slid onto Brax and held on with my left hand. It still didn’t feel natural to be there.

  Without another word, we took to the sky.

  Chapter 6

  Thespian Way

  We flew east along the Trellian coast. The sun set and the Aldric Ocean looked endless under the moonlight. Brax was tireless. He chose the right air currents, so the wind pushed him even faster. It was a smooth ride, and I almost forgot to hold tight. I was too busy looking at the land, the stars, and as far as I could see along the ocean. We passed near the occasional boat. The fishers would be petrified if they knew a flame-breathing dragon was this close to them.

  Being in the air, on Brax’s back, made my soul sing. I’d never tire of this view of the world or of the feeling of power I got. We could conquer anything. I was one with him.

  Of course, with a flick of a wing or shrug of a shoulder he could send me to my death.

  We turned south and crossed the Aven Strait. For a time there was only water below us, then land appeared again. The city-state of Avenus sat on the west end of a large island. Being on an island had helped keep them out of the clutches of the Akkad Empire and turned them into the best sailors in the mortal lands.

  When we reached Avenus itself, after at least seven hours of flying, my jaw dropped. The city was the second largest of all the cities in the land of Ellos. There were lamps lit all across the avenues so from above it looked like a burning jewel. They had built the walls surrounding Avenus in the shape of a pentagon with one point reaching over the water to protect the harbour.

  The citizens of this city were not ruled by a king or an emperor. Every three years, the population gathered in a natural amphitheatre called Grekois and cast cards for two archons to lead them. The labourers elected one archon, and another was elected by the merchants. The merchants had voted in a man named Perkan. The workers had elected a woman named Thena. I was glad I’d paid attention in class.

  “Whenever you’re done staring, you should tell me where to land,” Brax said. “I have no desire to fly over Avenus. There are ballistae batteries at every wall to keep winged invaders away.”

  I’d read about the massive bolt-throwing bows. They had been installed after an elite regiment of Immortals had attacked the city using gliders. Ill winds called up by a sorcerer had sent them into the ocean to drown. “Those are not meant for dragons,” I said.

  “Dragons or a man in a kite, they’ll go through either. And I don’t like having holes in me.”

  “Then let’s find a quiet and well-hidden place to land,” I said.

  Both of us searched. Even though it was still dark, I could see a great distance with my dragon eye. There were no high mountains, but the hills were tall. That was perhaps where the Empire had launched its failed glider attack.

  “There,” I pointed.

  “There,” Brax said at the same time. Then he laughed. “Ah, I forget you have my eye. Well, I don’t completely forget because there’s a horrible itching pain where my eye used to be. I may
still have a pinch of bitterness about that.”

  We landed on a hill thick with trees. And the trees were thick with broad leaves — the foliage would provide cover for Brax. “It’s a good thing you’re not a Quant dragon,” I said. “They are gigantic. It’d be impossible to hide.”

  “That’s right,” he said, gesturing at his body. “Good thing I’m a scrawny Scythian.”

  “I didn’t mean it that way.”

  “Well,” Brax continued. “Since Quants can’t speak and have no control over their appetites, I’d have gobbled you up right away. That would have saved you and me a lot of time and effort.”

  “You have such an interesting way of looking at life.”

  He turned his palms upward. It made him seem almost human. “I am a curious and strange beast.” He pointed at me. “Be quick with your mission, Carmen. Find this friend of yours, warn her, and depart. Hiding under leaves and branches is no noble pursuit for a dragon.”

  “I’ll return,” I said. “As fast as my feet can fly.”

  I turned away. He was already pulling branches and leaves over himself. I jogged down the hill. My legs were sore from the hours of riding and it was good to stretch them out.

  After about twenty minutes I realized my right hand no longer hurt. This surprised me since two holes had been burnt in it just over twenty-four hours earlier. I pulled at my bandages.

  I nearly tripped when I saw what had happened.

  The holes had healed! The skin was still red where the acid had burned me and when I squeezed my hand, it did send a spark of pain. But the holes had come together. It was as if a fortnight of healing had taken place in a few hours. What strange magic was this? My poultice hadn’t been that strong.

  I kept moving, still staring at my hand. I eventually put the bandages back on.

  It was two hours on foot to get to the city gates. The sun was rising in the east and painting the walls of the city red. The ocean here was the lightest colour of blue I’d ever seen.

  I pulled my cloak around me and, remembering how odd my eye looked, retrieved my old patch from a pocket and put it on. With my dragon eye covered I felt more than half blind — I wasn’t as steady on my feet. In the few weeks of having that eye, my body, my balance, and my brain had gotten used to seeing everything through it.