by Scott King
Gideon picked up the center lute, its body shaped like an avocado cut in half. He ran a finger along its smooth finish and plucked a string. It twanged out of tune. When was the last time he had picked it up? A year ago? Longer?
He kept meaning to make time to learn to play. Sure, he could strum a few chords, but that was all. He wanted to learn how to make real music. To invoke emotion in a way that only music can.
If he could to that, if he could learn to play, then he could make the music he heard in his head when fighting, a real thing that existed in the world. The rhythm and beat of weapons clashing, hearts beating, the pulse of life that fueled him.
The music of a battle had kept him alive more times than he could count. He had done his best to teach it to Alex. He thought she might get it. She might hear it like he does, but he didn't know for sure, and so the song stayed trapped inside of him. If he could get it out and share it with the world, a weight would be lifted from his shoulders.
Gideon twisted a peg on the lute's head and strummed the bottom string. Still off. He gave the peg another turn. It sounded much better, and he worked his way up both sides of the head, tuning all fifteen of the lute's strings.
Closing his eyes, he played "The Devourer's Winter."
He didn't try to sing. He didn't then, nor would he ever, have a voice capable of singing. Instead, he focused his thoughts on the chords, drinking them in, letting them drown out the months of exhaustion and stress.
Gideon played the chorus for "A Bride's Blackberry Pie." He didn't know the full song. He finished up with "The Drunken Ballad of James Frey." The reprise, in particular, brought back memories of his childhood and flickering flames on cold summer nights.
If they survived–
No.
When they survived the dragon attack Gideon would let Edgar know that he wanted a tutor. The best musician they could find. He would make it a priority then to learn how to play.
Gideon set down the lute.
Tomorrow they would begin to evacuate the city, and he would need all his strength for that. Best to stop fantasizing and start worrying about what he needed to do to make sure the city survived.
25
Bound
Ornsday, 41st of Hearfest, 1162.111
Carter had an escape plan in place. He choose not to tell the others in case the Grekers had a way of listening to their conversations. On the second day of their imprisonment, he saw an opportunity to put his plan in action.
Bova and two other guards brought manacles for the group and had everyone lock their wrists behind their backs. Carter waited patiently, clearing his mind and doing as he was told. Bova pulled down the barriers on their cells and led them single file out of the building.
Carter was halfway through drawing an agyl when he stopped and let it fade away. Thousands of Grekers waited for them in the streets. They hung out windows, sat on roofs, and stood shoulder to shoulder in the streets.
"By the light," Kane said, "you people are like an infestation. There are so many of you."
"The Arg'Natz has returned," Bova said.
"How did you find us?" Carter asked. "Your scouts found us in the woods and again in Compitum. How?"
"We have a way to track the Arg'Natz," Bova said. "For years, the ways have been dormant, but a month ago, they came alive again. We assumed that Doug must have been killed and that the essence had passed on to a new host."
"Nope." Doug patted his chest and his manacles clanged. "Still here."
"How does your tracking work?" Carter asked.
"I do not know," Bova said. "Magic is not my specialty. You'd need to speak with someone from the Solt faction."
Everything Carter knew about the Grekers was turning out to be a lie. He had thought, like most people did, that they were primitive creatures that lived in small tribes in the mountains or rural forests. Instead, they had escape proof cells and some sort of magic technology that wasn't agyls nor higher magic. It was something in between, and Carter wanted to know more.
Bova led them through the horde of Grekers and out of the permanent shadows of the inner streets. The sun that floated at the top of the cavern was more impressive than Alex had described. She had seen it with regular eyes, but Carter could see it on a whole a different level. It looked like a ball of yarn wound around itself but instead of fibers, it was strung together from strings of pure energy. He saw all of the threads of magic and connections to all the schools of magic. He doubted any one person could manipulate and wield such forces. It would have taken a team of magicians, working together, to create such a thing. Whoever or whatever had done it knew magic far more powerful than what Master Owen knew.
The group slowed and turned a corner, having to wait while their escorts cleared onlookers from the street. "Where are we going?" Carter leaned in close to ask Alex.
"The museum," she said.
"I thought we were going to the arena so Doug could fight people."
Bova had told them the day before that the arena was the big disc that cast their prison in shadow. Now it was easily half a dozen blocks away.
"Were you not paying attention?" Alex glared at him.
"There is a green sun woven with magic unlike anything I've ever seen," Carter said. "You can't use that tone with me. It's not my fault I was distracted."
"We have to get Bakero's Blade," she said. "It can be used to draw the essence of the Arg'Natz out of Doug which could kill him or it might not."
"Ok but why bring us..." Carter spun his finger in a loop at all of them. "Why not bring the knife thing to the arena?"
"Excellent question." Bova slowed her pace, falling in step between Alex and Carter. "We are here as a group because only the Arg'Natz may retrieve Bakero's Blade."
Carter did a double take looking from the Bova to Doug. "Wait, you want Doug to get a magic blade so that Grekers can then try to kill him with it? That seems stupid."
"Those that challenge Doug will not be trying to kill him," Bova said. "They merely need to stab him and hold the knife in place long enough for the essence to flow out of Doug and into them. Historically it has only killed the current Arg'Natz twice."
"Out of how many times?" Carter asked.
"It's been used twice," Bova said.
"That is idiotic." Carter nodded to Doug. "You should tell them 'no.'"
"Doug can't say 'no.'" Bova rolled her eyes. "That wouldn't make any sense."
"No." Doug said.
"What?" Bova's eyes went wide.
"No," Doug repeated. "I'm not going to get some stupid knife so that you can kill me with it. Why would I?"
"Because you are the Arg'Natz." Bova said it as if she were explaining something factual like up being up and down being down. "Only you can get it and if you don't the factions will surely go to war. You can't want that. You wouldn't do that. Plus we don't know that it will kill you."
"Let's go." Doug shuffled past Kane and back toward the direction they had come. "If we hurry maybe we can make it back to our cells in time for midday meal."
"Stop messing with him." Kane grabbed Doug's shoulder, halting him. Her dangling manacles clanked against his side. "You know you are going to do it, so let's get it over with."
"I'm not," Doug said.
"You will." Kane rolled her eyes.
"Is that a threat?" Doug squinted, narrowing his eyes at her.
"You aren't thinking ahead," Kane said. "You are bitter and angry at the Grekers, but you aren't yet looking at the whole picture. For example, what is it you most want in the whole wide world?"
"I want to be a dragon again."
"Great!" Kane smiled "Now, can you do that while you are here and trapped as a prisoner?"
"No," Doug said. "But we will escape somehow."
“That might be true," Kane said. "No one has been able to keep me locked up, but how long do you think that might take? A week? Two weeks? A month? And in that time, what do you think Medrayt is going to do to Arwyn and the other kingdoms?
"
"She's right," Alex said. "We don't have time to waste. You have to do this."
"I don't have to do anything." Doug crossed his arms and leaned away from both Kane and Alex. "None of this is worth dying for."
Carter understood where Doug was coming from. Doug wanted to survive, and this whole situation wasn't one where it looked like they would. He didn't blame Doug for not wanting to get the knife. That being said, he had to side with Alex. They didn't have time to waste, and as much as he liked Doug and felt guilty for what had happened to the dragon, they had a mission to complete.
"So what is worth dying for?" Carter asked.
"Excuse me?" Doug said.
"You heard me," Carter said. "What would you put your life on the line for?"
"I intervened in Compitum when I saw you two numbskulls brawling with Kane,” Doug said. “I had thought Gideon would keep you safe and when I saw just the two of you, I had to do something, even though I knew it was a risk.”
"So what do you think happens to us if some Greker takes the Arg'Natz from you?" Carter asked. "You think they will let us go?"
"I don't..." Doug turned to Bova. "What does happen to Alex and Carter if I die in the arena."
"There is a provision in the accords. Give me a moment." Bova closed her eyes and twirled her cheek fur with her smallest finger. "If the host of the Arg'Natz has been sundered and separated from it, then no matter if he lives or dies, his kin are exiled from Agnar."
"That's great but..." Carter threw up his arms. "We aren't his kin!"
"No, you aren't are you?" Bova said. "In that case I'd expect the new Arg'Natz to order your deaths. No reason to keep you around."
"There's nothing we can do?" Alex asked.
"Maybe." Bova paced back and forth in front of Doug. "What are your feelings on adoption?"
"What do you mean?" Doug asked.
"We could file the paperwork," Bova said. "It would make Alex and Carter your adopted children. They would be spared should you die or lose the Arg'Natz."
"Hey, Dad. Dadddd." Alex winced and shook her head. "Nope. That sounds weird."
"That would really work?" Doug asked. "I sign some parchment and they are protected."
"I'd have to witness you signing the paper and approve," Bova said. "But that is the short of it."
"What about me?" Kane jerked her hands apart forcing the chain between them to crack like a whip. "I can't shapeshift, which means I can't pose as one of Doug's children. And if I don't get a free pass out of here, I'm not about to let any of you get one. I assume I'm too old to be adopted?"
"Quite right," Bova said. "The legal age for an adult here is twenty-five, but you could marry him."
Kane's face paled. She looked sick as if she were going to vomit. Doug's own expression mirrored hers. They saw each other's disgust and both their faces shifted to furrowed brows and taut lips. "You got a problem being fake married to me?" Kane asked.
Doug growled. "Only that you've tried to kill me more times than anyone else in my life."
"If I had gotten a real chance to kill you," Kane said, "you would be dead."
"Then why should I marry you?" Doug asked.
"This truce between us is a light one. I can't shape shift." Kane held up her manacled hands. "But with these I could choke Carter or Alex before a single guard could stop me."
"And if I don't care?" Doug said.
"Shall we put it to a test?" Kane's eyes drifted from Alex to Carter. "Which shall it be?"
Carter cleared his mind, preparing a spell. If Doug didn't give in, Carter wasn't about to let Kane hurt Alex or himself.
"Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock," Kane said.
"No." Doug said it in a flat cold tone.
"So be it." Kane grabbed Carter.
By the time Carter, realized what she was doing, she sat on his chest with the manacles wrapped around his throat. The metal chains coiled so tightly that he couldn't speak.
"There is no need for violence!" Bova paced behind Doug, as if scared to get closer to Kane.
"He can still breathe," Kane said. "But a bit more force, and it's bye-bye Carter."
Carter thrust his pelvis up and kicked, but Kane weighed at least twice as much as she appeared. The bulk of her on his chest, restricted his breathing far more than the pressure around his throat.
"Threatening him or Alex will not get me to fake marry you," Doug said. "And keep in mind that your shifting may be disabled, but I still have my strength. You aren't a match for me."
"Huh." Kane loosened her hold on Carter's neck and leaned back driving more weight into his chest. "That's a valid point."
Kane rose into a crouch and slapped Carter. "Stop goofing around and get up."
Carter kneed Kane in the crotch. She rolled her eyes and left him on the ground as if he weren't anything to worry about.
"How about I give you something you want," Kane said. "You fake marry me and ensure I escape this hellhole, and I'll make sure you have the best wedding night of your life."
"You have nothing I want." Doug sneered at Kane.
Alex's chains clanked as she covered her mouth and laughed.
Carter found it equally amusing, but he knew Doug had missed the double entendre and had meant the statement in a factual manner.
"That's how it's going to be?" Kane's upper lip curled into a snarl, and her cheeks reddened.
"Unless you can turn me back into a dragon or tell me how to do it without the blasted lotus," Doug said. "Then yes, that is how it's going to be. I will not marry you."
Understanding crept over Kane's face, and she relaxed her stance. "What if I told you when Medrayt plans to attack or why specifically he needed all the rogue dragons killed? Don't you want to know why you are a threat to him?"
"No," Doug said. "All I care about is being a dragon again."
Carter chewed his lip. Every bit of him wanted to tell Doug to accept the deal, that it would be useful to know why. But Carter couldn't justify supporting a fake marriage to a monster like Kane.
"How do we know you would tell the truth?" Alex asked.
"You don't," Kane said.
Alex tugged on Doug's manacles, pulling him down to her eye level. "You should do this."
"Why?" he asked.
"It's a win-win all around," she said. "It keeps the truce. It keeps us safe, for a time at least. It potentially gets us good intel, and besides it's a Greker marriage. It's not real."
"It matters that much to you," Doug said, "that I do this?"
"I think you should," Alex said.
Doug swung around and looked Carter in the eyes. "And you?"
"It would be good to know," Carter said. "And its no different than playing house as a kid. It's meaningless."
"Alright." Doug pointed a fist at Kane. "You step out of line, you act up in anyway, and the wedding is off. Consider it our insurance that you behave. The second it happens you tell Alex what it is that she wants to know. Agreed?"
Kane winked and blew him a kiss.
Acting as if nothing had happened, Doug headed up the street away from the prison. "Where is the museum? I'm getting tired of all the walking."
Bova took the lead, and there was extra pep in her step, as if she were happy to have everyone on board.
They passed two more blocks of wrongly shaped, geometrical buildings and stopped in front of a dome. The dome's curve was smooth, and if they could see below street level, Carter suspected it would have made a perfect sphere. There were no seams on the walls, and Carter thought what the Grekers called a museum at one point might have been some sort of magical vault.
Bova led the way into the dome, and Carter took up the end of the line. The throngs of Greker followers stopped at the entryway, and Carter couldn't tell if they were too scared to enter or merely showing respect for the place.
Carter figured a museum would be like Master Owen's study. There would be rows and rows of book shelves and tables with ancient things on them. That's not what this pla
ce was. Lamps, not fueled by agyls or oil, hung from high ceilings and washed the room in a warm light.
"Classy stuff here, Jeeves." Kane reached out to pick up coins from a metal table, but her fingers struck the same type of invisible wall that their prison cells possessed. "I'm growing to hate this place."
"Preservation is our highest priority." Bova ducked between Carter and Alex then crossed the room. "This museum houses our collection of Erediä artifacts. Some respect, please, while you are here."
As they made their way through the maze-like corridors, Carter was surprised at the number of everyday items. He was sure he saw at least two hairbrushes, a washing tray, and six or seven mortars with pestles.
Bova led the group past a courtyard filled with statues and stopped in front of a stone slab as wide as two doors and as tall as two people. The charcoal-colored slab was a finger's width thick. Its center was sunken in, and an agyl-like rune was carved into it. A circle of glowing gems lined that section, and they flickered from light emerald green to a bleached yellow.
Carter heard a buzzing sound like the hum right before a lightning strike. Whatever the stone slab was, it was old and oozed with power. "What is it?" The stone felt unnaturally cold under Carter's fingers.
"You'd have to ask one of the Creen." Bova tugged on Carter's wrist pulling him away from the slab. "I do not know how it works or what it is called, but I know that it will allow Doug to retrieve Bakero's Blade."
"I don't like it." Doug scrunched his nose. "It smells like something, something I can't place, but something I know from home."
"It will take but a moment," Bova said. "Place your palm in the circle."
"It's on the tip of my tongue. It's..." Doug took another long sniff and then jumped backward. "Are you mad? It reeks of Yorndrak."
"It is perfectly safe," Bova said.
"Yorkdrak is real?" Carter pushed past Bova and placed his hand on the stone a second time, though this time he tried to see and feel it with his second eyes. Although the slab appeared to be stone, it wasn't. It was compressed threads of magic packed so tightly–
