Dragon Chameleon: Episodes 5-8
Sarah K. L. Wilson
Published by Sarah K. L. Wilson, 2019.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
DRAGON CHAMELEON: EPISODES 5-8
First edition. May 16, 2019.
Copyright © 2019 Sarah K. L. Wilson.
Written by Sarah K. L. Wilson.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
To the intrepid reader:
Behind the Scenes:
For all the patient people who (like Saboraak) put up with the “heroes” in their lives … this one is for you.
Chapter One
MY HEART THUDDED IN my chest like the hammers working the nearby forges. This area of Ko’Koren was given over to artificers – to blacksmiths and glassblowers, to framers, wheel wights, and candlemakers. A hundred shops with watery-glass window panes in their doors and brightly colored-signs were lined up along the lower tiers of Ziu.
My legs were heavy – two leaden weights – and my gait was not so much steps as simply a fall that was suddenly arrested by a leg stumbling forward, leading into the next stumble and the next.
My arms lost feeling hours ago. My lungs began to burn so long ago that it felt like they had been aflame for years. Oddly, I smelled smoke in the air to match them. Perhaps they had ignited, or perhaps it was simply the nearby forges.
I glanced often toward the horizon as I walked the boardwalks of the exposed mountain city, but with the snow coming down so heavy it was impossible to see anything beyond the rail. Only the darkness reminded me it was still night. I wasn’t even sure that daylight would brighten the world under such a heavy blanket of snow.
Zin – carried in my arms like a burden and wrapped in burlap to look like one – had stopped crying. Where her tears dampened my shirt, I only felt a chill now. Perhaps she was asleep. Perhaps she was dead – though she was warm still. Perhaps her mind – so close to the edge – had finally fallen from it. I didn’t dare stop to check. If I stopped, I wouldn’t be able to continue.
I couldn’t go back to safety through the tunnel on the Balde peak of the mountain city and I couldn’t stay on the Eski peak – that was too close to Apeq and his kind.
Going to Ziu was wisest. And now, I was looking for something particular. I would know it when I saw it.
I didn’t know if Saboraak was okay. Didn’t know if she and Bataar had survived. She had been silent for long hours. And her silence was not good.
I kept looking. I would know the place when I found it.
I was worried about Saboraak.
My thoughts were looping. I knew it, though I couldn’t stop it.
Looping.
Know it when I found it.
And then there it was. A red door with a sign stating it was an inn – The Frosty Pint – with a mug engraved on the sign and a snowflake. But it wasn’t the sign that I had been looking for – it was the small key shape carved like a decoration at the top of the doorframe. To the average person, it would only look like decoration. But me? I’d grown up on the streets of Vanika. I knew a few things. And this was one of them.
When someone opened the door, I shoved in past him. The inn was quiet and dark, with a fire in the main hearth burning. The man still holding the door open held a broom like he’d been sweeping up in the common area. He was dressed sloppily, his apron askew, his grey hair sticking in every direction, but he fixed me with a stare as sharp as the belt-knife I carried.
“Late to be out, lad,” he said, his tone suggesting he was looking for a specific response.
“I’ve business with the night,” I said casually, smiling. Just two men talking idly. But if he was who I thought he was, he should know the code I’d given.
Thieves were thieves, whether here or Vanika. And thieves needed items fenced or hidden.
“Best watch your step. The night hides many things,” he replied, still testing me but with a veiled threat.
I forced a laugh against the nerves welling up inside. “If only she’d hide a few for me!”
There was a twinkle in the man’s eye and now our smiles were genuine.
He leaned the broom against the wall and walked up to me. “Anything can be hidden ... for a price.”
I was expecting this. I had a gold coin ready. One of Hubric’s, but he left them to be used and I was using them.
“A gold coin now and one later if you hide me and my goods for a day or two – food included. Hot, if you have it,” I said. I knew he’d expect this. I’d heard the same interchange a hundred times when I was growing up.
He grinned. He should be grinning. If things were the same here as they were back in Vanika, two gold coins were more than he’d make in legitimate business in a month.
He took the coin quickly, palming it so fast I couldn’t tell where he’d put it. “I have just the place. Follow me, then. You look like you could use some sleep.”
A yawn ripped through me at his words, but there was no time to rest – not yet. I followed him up a staircase and then he walked to the end of the hall, looking furtively around before pressing on a wooden panel and leading us through a secret door and up a second – dustier – set of stairs that curved and wound past several doors until it reached one at the very top. The innkeeper pulled out a key and unlocked the final door, thrusting it open for me.
“I’m Gaven Ho’Wret, innkeeper here. The room is yours and for that payment, you can h
ave it and the food for a solid week. Just don’t go showing off that hidden door to anyone or take anything stored up here or I’ll throw you off the roof.”
In anyone else, it would be an idle threat, but Gaven Ho’Wret was just stating facts. The casual look in his eye when he said it told me that much.
“Of course,” I agreed.
“I’ll send up breakfast when it’s ready. Until then, get some sleep.” He cracked a grin. “I hope that whatever you stole was worth it. It seems to have taken a lot out of you.”
He left a candle in a holder and closed the door behind him, giving me the chance to look around.
There was a tiny window – no larger than my face – with a curtain over it. A washstand and basin, a low bench, and a wide bed strewn with untidy blankets. Not the finest room in an inn, but a safe one. For tonight, at least. With a sigh, I gently placed Zin on the bed, my arms barely able to bend after being locked in place to carry her for so long. She lay curled up still as I unfastened the bindings that disguised her as a package, gently covered her with blankets.
When I was done, I barred the door.
I needed a better plan than this, but I was too tired for that. Just a little sleep and then I’d come up with something amazing.
Just a little sleep.
I should probably make a pallet on the floor for decency’s sake. I collapsed at Zin’s feet across the foot of the bed. I’d make a pallet in a moment. I just needed to close my eyes for a second.
Just for a second.
Chapter Two
I WOKE TO QUIET SOUNDS like scuffling mice. I sat up, blinking in the dim light of morning. I was ... somewhere ... oh, yes. The events of the night before crashed over me and my yawn cut off abruptly when I remembered how much trouble we were in.
I looked around the room, orienting myself. I’d collapsed on the foot of the bed with everything I still owned attached to me. Huddled at the head of the bed, her dress tucked neatly around her ankles and the book of Ibrenicus Prophecies in her hand, was Zin.
She seemed calm and she’d found time to wash and straighten her chin-length curls. Her huge golden eyes seemed to glow in the faint morning light.
“We need to talk,” I said.
Saboraak? Still, no response from my dragon and that was not good. Not good at all. It made me feel itchy under my skin.
In as few words as possible, I laid out our situation.
“I know you aren’t much of a talker,” I said, running a hand through my hair awkwardly. “And no one asked you if you wanted to come along for this. But here we are. We might be able to get you out of the city and safely away, but I have Saboraak and Zyla and Bataar to worry about too and until I find them, I have no one to send with you.”
“Feel the rush and fly the run, and sound the warning cry,” she whispered, quoting the prophecies.
“Those are some of the prophecies in the book,” I said, nodding. She was crazy. Out of her mind crazy. But she’d saved my life last night.
“Look,” I said, trying again. “I appreciate what you did last night. Whatever that was – bouncing the magic back at them – that was great. You saved my life. What did you do?”
She shuddered and I raised my hands to try to stop whatever train of thought I’d started.
“Sorry, sorry. I know you don’t like to talk.” Whatever it was, I hoped she’d do it again.
“Four there seem but five there be,” she whispered.
“Is that another one of the prophecies?” She didn’t answer, still flipping through the book. I laughed to myself. “Three and four and four and five. It’s like a child’s nursery rhyme.”
“Up he goes but can’t come down, not unless he wears a crown.”
I sighed. Talking to her was worse than useless. I should have known that she couldn’t – or wouldn’t – talk to me. Whatever the Magikas had done to her, after they killed her parents, had taken her mind. Or maybe she’d hidden it deep within and just didn’t trust me enough to show a hint of it.
“I’ll get you out of here somehow – I promise. But I don’t know how yet. Can you sit tight?”
She looked at me owlishly. It was all I could do not to sigh again.
“Can you wait here today? I’ll have food brought, okay? Just stay here, and read your book and stay out of sight and I’ll be back by nightfall, okay?”
She nodded. My hands clenched and unclenched, and I chewed my bottom lip, watching her. Could I trust her to understand? Could I trust her to stay here where it was safe?
There was a knock on the door and I opened it gratefully. The skinny innkeeper was back, this time with a tray of porridge.
“My woman runs things in the day,” he said. “I’m just delivering your porridge and then off to bed.”
He looked worse in daylight than he had last night – there was a faint bruise on his cheek and shifty look in his eyes. I swallowed hard. You worked with what you had and trusted as little as possible – but sometimes you still had to trust. And I was still pretty sure that the money was enough to hold his tongue.
I opened the door a little more so that he could see Zin sitting on the bed behind me. I didn’t like the look he had in his eyes as I fished in my belt-purse and found a silver coin by feel. I offered it to the innkeeper.
“My friend is going to stay here while I’m gone. This is for her safety and for her meals. If you leave her alone and bring the food – or have your wife do it – then I won’t have to take care of you.”
I let a dangerous look creep into my eye. Honey and fire. That was the best way to deal with vermin. Lure them with honey or burn them with fire. I was showing him I had both.
“I have no wife.”
“Your ‘woman’ then,” I replied, my lips twisting over the name. I didn’t like a man who showed his companion so little respect.
“Fine,” he said, rolling the coin between his fingers as I took the tray. He was looking curiously at Zin.
I set the tray down on the bed and took out my belt knife, calmly trimming my nails as I spoke. Best to remind him of who he was dealing with. Remind him that curiosity was unwelcome.
“I have dangerous business to attend to today. I’d hate to have to add more to that list.”
I fixed him with a stare and he swallowed so hard that his Adam’s apple bobbed. Good. Make him nervous and he’d leave Zin alone.
“No need, master.”
“Good.”
He was gone so quickly that the stairs seemed to play a symphony of squeaks at his retreat.
“They won’t harm you,” I said to Zin. Her nose was buried back in the book. “Your breakfast is hot.”
She still didn’t look up.
She spoke suddenly. “The problem with lying isn’t just the morality of it. It’s that in the end, it’s impossible.”
Was that another prophecy?
“Zin?”
She didn’t answer. If it had been a real comment from her – if her mind had surfaced again for a moment – well, it was gone again now.
I sighed and left, closing the door carefully. I had no idea what to do with her, but I’d have to find something – and all on my own. She wasn’t giving me any help.
Tor?
I almost sagged with relief as Saboraak’s mental voice filled my mind. Finally!
Chapter Three
SABORAAK? ARE YOU OKAY?
For now. They gave us a merry chase.
With what?
I don’t have enough time to explain.
What was so pressing that she couldn’t explain?
The dragons are dying.
Didn’t she say that if I died, she would die soon after? Well, the riders for those dragons were dead. I mean, anyone would feel bad, but she expected that, right?
Yes, I know about that. I have a decision to make.
And what would that be? I felt tense, nervous. She was going to leave with them, right? It would be okay. I’d been on my own for a long time. I didn’t need a dragon to
babysit me. I’d take Zin and we would walk back to the Dominion. We would have to leave Zyla, obviously ...
I’m not going to abandon you, Tor.
Relief washed over me, but I tried not to show it. Okay, then what was the problem?
Bataar must meet Apeq man to man at the Seat of Judgment on Balde tomorrow night – at dusk. All of Ko’Koren will be there.
On Balde? I thought that thing was on Eski.
There is one at every peak. Bataar must meet him at the one on Balde.
That would be problematic. Bataar wasn’t here.
But I must get these dragons to safety. We must continue to avoid capture, but we must also get them to a place where they can be healed and the Lands of Haz’drazen – the country of dragons – are too far for them to fly there in time.
This could be healed?
If we are quick.
She must have somewhere in mind.
Bataar says it can be healed in the lands of the Kav’ai. They have access to things that can heal the dragons, he says.
And did she believe him?
He does not seem to be lying.
She must be talking directly to his mind. I was surprised by the pang of jealousy that I felt at that.
Don’t be a hatchling. He needs help. He is healing from the wounds he received in the battle last night, but he is still injured. I had to speak to his mind to be sure he could recover without help.
And you? I felt tense as I waited for her answer. It was strange to be standing here in this dusty storeroom stock-still while I listened to a dragon in my mind.
I escaped unscathed. For now. These people want dragons. They want these four, especially.
Four? Only four? I thought she had more.
We had a dozen. They chased us to the hideout last night. When I saw we would be discovered there, I fled to where I had hidden the dragons. I thought the place would be impenetrable. I was wrong. They descended on us quickly. Only five of us escaped. Bataar was on my back.
There had been more than that in the dragon cotes when we arrived in Ko’Koren.
Some were already missing when I freed those who remained. They speak of men in dark hoods with whips. Their friends were taken.
Dragon Chameleon: Episodes 5-8 (Dragon Chameleon Omnibuses Book 2) Page 1
