by Lisa Daniels
Zaine smiled, but this time, there was less warmth. A topic that bothered him? “I will pay you triple what Gorchev is offering you, because you're going to be spying on him.”
The fork in Mia's hand clattered onto her plate. “What?” She licked her lips. Working against Gorchev didn't bother her. Not if someone offered triple. “And you think... I might have to deal with a dragon or two? With Gorchev?”
He nodded, as if satisfied with something. “That's precisely it. You could say I've been hearing some odd rumors about that new set of plants he has. Rumors that most intrigue me, and the patrons that I deal with. I already have spies on it, but I don't have anyone with your talent. So let me put it bluntly. I need documentation. Evidence of what the factory imports and exports, and how they do it.”
Still mystified at his conviction of there being a connection with dragons, Mia considered what she knew of her pompous fool of an employer. Sure, he was greedy enough to do all sorts of unscrupulous things. He likely paid a pittance to his workers and milked them for every coin, and probably didn't provide any sort of sick leave or pay for the injured. It was the done deal of all the factory owners. Huge money-soaking monstrosities unconcerned with who they ground under their cogs and killed in their mines.
But dragons?
“You've got my interest. But how do you know that you can trust me? I work for this man. What's to stop me from just taking your money and continuing to work for him?” Her mind flitted over the thought of all the money. Gorchev paid her fifteen golden arks for her efforts. This Zaine offered forty-five. She could retire on that kind of money. Already had a fair amount saved up, to the point where she'd started using a clearing bank to store it. She didn't want that kind of money lying around in her coffin home, in a place saturated with thieves.
“I suppose I can't, really,” Zaine admitted, though he leaned on one elbow, chin cupped in his large hands. He wore a rakish expression, framed by immaculate black hair. “But I do hope that I can make use of you. Any way possible.” A suggestive growl ended that statement.
A shiver traveled down Mia's spine. The way he looked at her there, like a hungry predator—she had no doubt just how else he intended to use her.
She'd take his cash. Be madness not to. Would she take anything else from him?
Maybe. She'd much prefer jumping in bed with someone like him than someone like Gorchev. Someone who constantly drew her attention to his striking visuals, those soft lips. Softer than hers, possibly. Didn't see much blue eyes in the city, either.
She'd have to avoid being decapitated by Gorchev, first. Ah well... he had given her a week to be left to her own devices.
“I want to know something,” Zaine said then, perhaps noting her restlessness. “What goal do you have in life? What do you intend to do with your money? What happens when the slaying isn't enough, or too dangerous to continue?”
The words trickled into her mind, her body, her soul. They weighed something down, as if coating her insides in treacle. “I don't know.”
“No?”
“I...” She... she'd not thought about it. Nothing existed beyond the slaying. “I honestly don't know. I... I guess I want a nice house. Get to sustain myself by growing my own food. Maybe I'd build a new place in the mountains, away from people, and drop down into the city in a hot air balloon for day trips. Maybe explore the world. I don't know.”
“What about love?”
Something squeezed her heart. “L-love?” Mother and father, erecting the wooden fence around their garden. Walking the family dog. Warm hugs at night, words read from a book. All before it went wrong. All before—“I don't—I've not really—”
“You poor thing.” His sympathetic expression, the heavy sadness in his eyes both incensed and frightened her.
“Nothing poor about it. Just haven't had the time to think on it. It'll weigh me down, you know? People think I'm wasting myself by slaying in the first place.”
“You're not.” There it was again. That smile. So genuine, so warm, that it took her breath away. Suddenly uncomfortable, not wanting to stay here for any longer than necessary, Mia got up. The door called to her, and her blood screamed for her to leave—to get away.
She didn't know why. But she didn't say goodbye when Zaine called after her.
Chapter Four – Zaine
Maybe Zaine had been too pushy with the iceblood. But when he'd seen that flicker of vulnerability in her steel mask, he just wanted to crack it open. See what lay there behind her perfect guard.
He thought about it for a while, back in his lavish mansion. Most of the higher nobility knew who Zaine was. They had dealings with his kingdom, after all. The king, Zaine only met a couple of times, before he holed himself up in his palace. Zaine dealt with the king's liaison instead.
“It's not going to be easy work, sire,” the blond-haired liaison said. A darker blonde than Mia's short, flaxen locks. “We already have some of the council resisting trade with your kind. Seem to think that they'll be knocked off their pedestals if it's open knowledge that they trade with dragons.”
“Even when we look like this?” Zaine clasped his hands behind his back, surveying the liaison, who squinted with a chained monacle. “Surely they know there's a huge different between hybrids and traditionals. We hybrids care little for human and dragon conflicts. But we do get paid quite well to communicate between your two species.”
“Indeed,” the liaison said. What was his name again? Petyr? Peke? “I'm afraid that the only way to continue fostering the current trade we share is to appeal to their greed. Men do have a way of chasing money, and dying for it.” The liaison strode to peer out of Zaine's glass window, staring to the wild gardens below. Just how Zaine liked it.
Petyr, he decided. That was the name. Zaine meticulously examined his black-sleeved arm, picking a few loose hairs off. “It always comes down to money in the end, doesn't it?”
Had to do the same with Mia as well. Her eyes almost popped out of her head when I said I'd triple it.
“Unfortunately. My wife spends at least half of my paycheck a month,” Petyr said, rather wryly. “She claims she does it for the children, but don't think I haven't noticed her extra makeup bags, her new, unproven methods of maintaining a youthful face. People dread getting old. Start looking to their appearances. And that's why I'm pointing you to the dissidents now, sire. They honestly don't want to lose your coin. But they need to keep up appearances, like they understand the common people. Don't want to lose their jobs, and never work again.”
“How about if I give them a stipend every month? So even if they're made redundant, one way or another, they'll have payments for the rest of their lives.”
“You think you can afford that, sire?” Petyr scratched at his thin, wispy beard, clearly doubtful of Zaine's ability.
“You give me a share of the city taxes anyway. What else am I going to do with it? I don't need the money. Put the proposal to them. We can't afford tensions getting worse.”
Petyr nodded, and Zaine's attention drifted off again. Back to home in the mountains, with his family, instead of being surrounded by human windbags, all so concerned with appearance and standing, always seeking to procure votes. At least he wouldn't need to smell the burning coal, see black smog coating the sky, making it hard to see the stars at night. Humans advanced so fast. Ever since they had started with their factories, the access of steam technology became more widespread, and more people had jobs. But with that, it also gave richer people more power.
Power that someone like Gorchev used. And Zaine. He snorted softly to himself, thoughts again wandering to all his new recruits. He had four icebloods working for him now. Mia was the first woman—and she had far better mastery of her powers than the other three combined. Might be entertaining to put them in a coliseum together, watch them fight to be the last one standing. He also procured other magics—but it was the icebloods that fascinated him most. Kind of like staring into a mirror, and seeing your own death
reflected. People with the power to resist and slay dragons, countering everything a dragon stood for.
His blood stirred at the thought. Dancing with danger. Using the weapon meant for him. A delicious irony in that somewhere. Using a dragon slayer to save dragons.
Remained to be seen whether Mia turned out to be as he expected.
She didn't exactly reject him when he hinted at the idea of a union, either. If anything, she appeared interested.
I'll need to be careful. If she finds out I'm a dragon too soon, it won't end well. He'd need to carry protection with him. One bolt from that sapphire-tipped staff, and he'd be as dead as that trad.
Well, it certainly added a little extra excitement to the drudgery of having to deal with all the diplomatic issues.
“Sire?” Petyr cleared his throat. “I'll take my leave now. I'll make the rounds, tell them what you've offered. Be aware you may have some rather high tithes coming from them. These are men used to luxury.”
Fools in top hats and coats, Zaine thought. May they choke on their own gold necklaces. “Excellent. Thank you again.” He didn't dare say Petyr's name. Just in case he happened to be wrong. It might be a Pete after all.
Finally alone, Zaine continued brooding, staring out the framed window, which allowed slices of sunlight to hit his spacious living room. So much space, yet so little soul. What did he need all the space for? What was the point?
To impress others. Would it impress Mia? He imagined bringing her over here. She'd probably curl her lip at it. She did seem to be the dismissive type, wasting little time on extravagance. Some women liked that. The wealth. Others had no time for it. Closing his eyes, he pictured another scene. Her sprawled on his fine leather sofa, eyes wide and dilated, lips parted, decadent and bold. Beckoning to him. Luring him into her deadly embrace. Letting him slide his palms under her top, touching the silk of flushed skin. Trembling breaths, nothing but hunger in her gaze...
He inhaled sharply, wrenching himself to the present. Now he had a train to catch. Another iceblood needed assigning. Another person needed contacting. It never ended. Always running in circles...
Just to stop a war from breaking out, and to save his little mountain city from ruination.
Time waits for no prince, Zaine thought, exiting the room, mind already picturing the route he needed to take.
Chapter Five – Mia
First, nondescript clothing. Mia opted for casual factory garb. With the right clothes, she looked like a man, anyway. Bit of soot on her face, one of those soft caps, she'd look like a gangling teenage boy. She snooped around some of the bars frequented by factory workers, picking up the main accent they spoke with, practising it under her breath until she felt she had the tone right. She already had an inkling, of course, but needed to revive her memory by listening in.
Couldn't take her staff. It'd stick out, pun intended. She'd have to make do with her wooden sapphire rings. Not as powerful as the intricate wood of a staff, but better than nothing at all. Enough people wore rings to not make it too conspicuous.
When it neared dusk, she entered the main factory area near Gorchev's new pride and joys. She'd already scouted it once, noting the unusual amount of security there. Aside from the barbed wire fence and the long stretch of empty compound, she saw two guards posted at every conceivable entrance, holding muskets, and even a couple of hand cannons. They definitely didn't want anyone near. They had guards posted throughout the night, too. Less than the day shift, since the entrances were closed, but still enough to make getting in a potential issue.
At least, for a normal person. Well rested and well fed, Mia possessed enough energy to kill several dragons at once. Give or take. Probably needed her staff to do it, though. Hopefully those idiotic lumps, Jason and Sanders, didn't have any assignments here. She needed to keep watch for them. Wouldn't put it past their brainless faces to attempt to assault her off duty. The guards at the entrance to the barbed wire gate gave her dirty looks, but she didn't look out of place.
“Oi, I've seen you before,” one said, his grubby face narrowed in suspicion.
“‘Course you ‘av,” Mia replied, adding an incredulous air to her voice. “I work here, don't I? At the factory way over. Got me running errands, don't they?”
“Hmph.” The guard clearly found her tone irritating. Mia didn't blame him. It did sound like she had no brains to formulate any complex ideas. “Which one again?”
“Another of Gorchev's. Got me in the coal. Fancy new factory ‘ere, though. Think they'll let me work here if I ask?”
“Not if you want to work with coal,” said the other guard, having decided she was no threat. “Gorchev's got some new kind of resource. Says it will revolutionize everything. Not that we're supposed to know, obviously,” he said, with a faint tone of resentment.
“That's the way, innit? Don't let us cog scum know anything, do they? Pay us arklings, make us work to the bone and 'av you lot standing out there all day and night. Dangerous job, too. Might get some mad thief come at you with a knife. I've seen it 'appen to the guy at my factory. Still in hospital.”
“Tell me about it,” the smaller of the two guards replied, happy to continue the conversation. Mia kept up her friendly, stupid and inquisitive nature, though there wasn't much else information to glean. A new type of fuel in the factory, and no one was told anything more. Guards inside and outside, and only a handful of workers compared to the streams of the other factories. Finally, she feigned needing to get back to work, and left them. Her throat ached from the forced accent.
Not many workers in there. The guards reckoned they only saw a couple of dozen go in and out every day. For twin factories of that size, almost double the workspace of the other plants Mia had seen, there should be hundreds, thousands of workers.
Something's definitely up. What kind of mystery did Zaine expect her to uncover against her normal employer? For one brief, crazy moment, she imagined sneaking with him in the dark, making it to the barbed wire fence, vaulting over. Was he the kind for covert operations? Brute force? Or did he prefer to stay behind and keep his hands clean?
Dusk fell. And with it, Mia sprang into action. Four days left until she returned to Gorchev.
She only needed three. With her face obscured, her clothing altered, anyone close to Gorchev wouldn't recognize her. Not even Gorchev himself, if he happened to roam in those twin factories, which didn't belch out anything. Another mystery to be unearthed.
She circled the huge, fenced compound, seeking the weakest point of entry, where there were no entrances, and no guards patrolling. Oh, they patrolled alright, but just two of them—and right now, they both had turned the corners, giving her a window of about three minutes before they came around again.
Energy crackled in her blood, and her sapphire rings glowed. Focusing the power. Though the night was warm, her breath clouded the air as her temperature dropped. Dropping the energy to her feet, she began to slither across the ground. Without the friction of the floor, without gravity slowing her down, she zipped—and used a quick, concentrated blast of energy to form a thin, icy ramp. Skating up it, she soared through the air, creating another ramp to cushion her impact, and made it over the fence, which must have been at least twenty feet high. She dissolved the ice, condensed air huffing out of her mouth as she slicked to the factory wall.
Without hesitating, she began to slide up the sheer wall, changing the focus of her gravity as she did so. The wall became floor, and she grinned in exhilaration as her power cushioned her, sending icy shivers of pleasure through her blood. At this speed, it took maybe thirty seconds to scale to the top, where she anticipated sliding down a chimney. Four huge ones towered above each plant, silent as the grave. A normal person trying to break in would have been caught before they'd even made it ten feet up the wall. She peered down, enjoying that slight vertigo sensation as the guards prowled over the compound by the fence she'd vaulted. They looked no bigger than matchsticks from this height. She chuckled to h
erself, taking a brief moment to just lie on the top by one of the chimneys, staring at the skies above. No stars, unfortunately, but she imagined them there, twinkling just out of sight.
Should be around one in the morning, now. Since she'd never been in the building, she didn't know what to expect, and there were no public plans of the interior. She did know there would be about eight guards. Hopefully wouldn't need to kill any of them. They were just men doing their jobs.
Nodding to herself, she gathered the energy into her blood, temperature falling once again, and slicked up the chimney, before dropping down a black hole. Noiselessly, she ghosted through the hollow, and dipped onto a kind of blockage a moment later.
Running fingers across it, she determined it to be a kind of grating. She felt along until she found the hinges holding it up, and frosted her hands.
Crack. She dropped through and hit the end, feet rolling across a huge mound of what she knew to be coals. It is a coal-burning factory. What? But why hasn't anyone seen any smoke?
She popped right out the gigantic hearth, and almost yelped in shock.
There, right in front of her, was a dragon.
The dragon looked just as shocked as her. As Mia prepared her charge, readying to kill the creature, something made her stop.
Chains. Scales plucked off the body, leaving a blood-spotted green body. No wings, just stumps. Manacles with spikes digging into the flesh, including around the dragon's mouth.
Mia stopped charging her power. Her stomach dropped to her feet, the emptiness replaced by horror.
The dragon stared at her with wide, blue eyes. Child-like eyes. And, with its size... barely taller than her, barely as wide...
And of course, the horns were missing. As were the claws. What a sad, pathetic excuse for a dragon.
