Drakonika (Book 1)

by Andrea Závodská

  Magnus didn't laugh so effortlessly, though. “Of course, it's a piece of cake,” he said, staring into nothingness.

  “Why are you wasting his time then? I am sure he has lots to study and so do you,” said Mrs. Samai, looking at Magnus, though a bit less harshly now. “And you, tell your parents to get you something proper to wear.” At these words, she pointed her finger in the room and Maren vanished inside with a downcast expression. Her mum slammed the door with a snap.

  Maren and her mother were gone, the door had been closed, if not locked also, and yet Magnus remained staring in front of him as though he was still waiting for something to happen. In fact, he wasn't really sure if he should wait for Maren by the city gate the next morning. Oh no, the city gate! Suddenly it struck him; he would encounter Eagle and Jackal once more! And now that he thought on it, problems were gathering again.

  Just as he turned around to leave, he saw a group of little children crossing the street, led by an elderly lady with grey hair. She spotted Magnus as if she had radar in her eyes.

  “My, my, skipping school like that!” she chided, waving her index finger to show him that he was a bad student who didn't fulfil his duties. Clearly, she couldn't believe that someone didn't care about such a great thing like school. But she would never guess that Magnus actually didn't attend any school, not even in her dreams. “How can your parents let you out in such dirty old rags?” she mumbled angrily as she passed by Magnus, followed by the chortling children.

  That was too much even for Magnus. He was hearing that all the time! There was a free afternoon ahead of him, no plans and a pouch loaded with heavy coins. That was clearly a perfect day for shopping! Moreover, he didn't have to worry about any girls who would slow him down.

  Magnus went back to the town plaza by the one and only road he already knew in Ragna. He certainly didn't want to get lost, especially since tomorrow was such an important day.

  In spite of his mind buzzing with thoughts again, he couldn't pass by a scroll nailed to one of the stone walls in the street without a further inspection. He drew closer and started reading curiously.

  Thief wanted!

  Tall figure, long green cloak, hands as big as shovels, a rag over his head, his voice as deep as your darkest nightmare, sneaky like a cat's shadow, and what's worst – he steals!

  Magnus didn't have to be a sage to know who wrote this. There was no mistaking Eagle's and Jackal's speech style. There was a doodle scribbled beneath the text, probably a picture of the criminal. Our dear guards probably didn't realise that with such a sketch people would more likely bring them a troll instead of a human.

  Magnus' previous experience with thieves led him to the conclusion it would be for the best if he just pretended he hadn't seen the notice at all and just continued on his trek back to the main square. Right now he really didn't want any extra trouble.

  Shortly, he safely reached the huge plaza in the town's midst. Considering how much free time he had, Magnus decided to visit the local shops. He wasn't in the mood for the vendor crowds which were probably just full of pick-pockets anyway, so he chose to take a peek into the house shops that encompassed the square.

  “Hmm,” Magnus was thinking, passing from one shop to another. “So - Pathico? No, I've been there already and it was quite enough for today. What do we have next? Laborer's tools and attire? No, thanks, I already have that. And this? Potions, let's see,” mumbled Magnus under his nose as he moved to another window-case which was full of potion bottles, herbs and ingredients of all sorts strewn on scraps of parchment. His eyes popped in amazement. “Wow, that's so... creepy,” said Magnus, when he noticed centipedes, spiders and other vermin tuck in jars of various shapes. He could feel his hair stand up. But what terrified him even more was a pale face encircled by a mass of white hair, staring right at him from the opposite side of the window.

  Magnus gasped. He felt as if he was being watched by a corpse. Shocked, he quickly turned around to run away but he bumped into a man who was walking against him.

  “Oi, look where yer goin',” blustered the Ragnan citizen grumpily.

  Magnus gave him a frightened look and without an apology he vanished to the other side of the plaza. At reaching the opposite side, he could finally take a deep breath. And it seemed that he found a clothes shop at last. At least the tunic drawing on a wooden sign hung above the door suggested so.

  In his mind, Magnus prayed for the shop to be open so that he would finally be able to change those large rags for something much better. He pushed the door and they opened. Magnus smiled contentedly; his prayers were answered. At least for now.

  The salesroom was separated from the entrance by a short corridor which lead Magnus first to the left, then to the right and finally allowed him to enter his longed-for “kingdom of clothing”.

  The shop wasn't big but even so there were plenty of shelves that offered a vast selection of wear. Upon looking, it wasn't an expensive shop either, but any of the clothes offered here were way better than what Magnus was wearing now. He looked like a beggar.

  All in all, everything looked fine, except for one detail. Nobody was in.

  Magnus crossed the entire room and called for the shopkeeper several times, but there was no answer. Why were the doors open then? The owner had to be somewhere. In that moment though, he was falling to despair. “Why can't anything go smoothly here? I come, I buy, I leave,” Magnus thought. But he knew one thing; either he would find the seller, or he could just flat out leave. If someone noticed him walking around in an empty house which wasn't even his, they would consider him a thief. Although there was a bad feeling growing in his stomach, he decided to find the owner of this house. His desire to get rid of the horrible rags was stronger than his fear.

  He also decided not to scream and call for the shopkeeper unnecessarily because he could attract the attention of the guards. That was the last thing he wanted right now. He sneaked to the right side of the room and discreetly opened the door before him, when all of a sudden it blew open with enormous strength, making Magnus face a bunch of brooms and tatters for cleaning, dangerously rolling straight at him. Despite having fast reflexes and grabbing several of them, most of them fell on the floor with a deafening racket. Even more so when the tin buckets dropped down together with the brooms. After this “broom attack” Magnus couldn't afford to loiter for long. He crammed them back into the closet and shut the door quickly.

  “All right, definitely not here,” said Magnus, his head covered with dust. He was still cautious, breathing heavily with his eyes wide open. What if the brooms charged at him again from somewhere?

  He decided to try his luck at the other side of the room. He knocked on the door but nobody answered. He opened it carefully, peeking into the corridor. This time he saw a staircase leading upstairs. Magnus looked back once more as though he wanted to make sure that the shopkeeper really wasn't there and if he really had to go to the first floor. But it seemed he didn't have any other choice.

  When he ascended the stairs, he saw a short corridor which had two doors on the left side. The first one was open so he went forward, stopping at the doorstep. Even from a distance he saw that he had already found the seller. He surveyed the room with his eyes, but it didn't have much furniture. A large, cheap bed, a wardrobe, a small carpet and that was, more or less, all. There was a woman standing on the opposite side of the room but she was looking away. She was of a lower figure, a mane of grey hair on her head, dressed in similar rags like these of Magnus' keeping which struck him dumb. But her strange appearance aside, she was the owner of the house and Magnus was interested in the goods downstairs.

  “Hello? Excuse me,” said Magnus, in an effort to get her attention. “Ma'am? Lady?” When she didn't react to either of those salutations, Magnus wasn't sure if she was all right. He decided to walk in front of her. Perhaps she hadn't heard him?

  But as soon as he stepped over the threshold, his right foot brushed against a string, firmly outst
retched in front of the door and the fun had begun. Certainly not for him though.

  “What...” Magnus said, turning around in confusion. Very soon he understood that he had activated a trap. The next thing he saw was a sharp axe swinging right at him. It flew just above his head and smashed in the wardrobe doors behind him. As if that wasn't enough, somebody descended from the corner of the room on a rope and landed on top of him.

  Magnus had taken down the “lady” who was standing in front of the closet. Now he found it was just a mop, dressed in old clothes. However, there was a real young lady sitting on top of him and although she was holding a knife at his throat, it didn't seem that she was going to cut him up. There was as much surprise in her eyes as in Magnus'. Apparently, they both expected someone completely different.

  “Oh... I... I though that...” the girl stammered, blushing and apologising, as she scrambled off Magnus.

  Magnus remained sprawled on the floor for quite a while, breathing heavily and staring in shock at the ceiling, as if he couldn't believe that he was still alive. “If I were just a bit taller, I would-”

  “Well, yeah,” the girl interfered. “But you're all right, aren't you? Your head isn't missing, so why are you lying here like a duffer?”

  Magnus had a feeling that all the girls in Ragna would call him a “duffer”, no matter which one. He silently sat upright, looking at the girl who was getting ready to catch a thief, but this time the real one. Even though she had the spirit of a fighter, she wasn't older than Magnus, nor was she taller than him. She had blue eyes deep like the ocean and long dark hair. Her pale and silken skin looked as soft as the moonlight. She was dressed in a white blouse with a long wide, royal purple skirt, nearly touching the floor. This girl was probably going to become one of the most beautiful women in Ragna (if not in the whole of Aria as well) and the one who would marry her was going to be a very lucky man. If he managed to do that, of course.

  “Will you get up finally? Help me stretch this rope,” said the girl, completely focused on her work. Right now she wasn't interested in anything else.

  Magnus gave a small sigh. As he scrambled to his feet, he effortlessly stretched the thick rope and tied it on a wooden stake in the wall. At last it seemed like he amazed her somehow.

  “Why such preparations?” said Magnus. He couldn't understand why she was staring at him like that.

  “Well, I'm waiting for a certain thief...”

  “Really? And who's that?”

  “You don't know about it?” said the girl, rolling her eyes. It looked like she would have to explain everything to him. “Since the beginning of the nightly haunting of Ragna house robbers have entirely disappeared from the town. At night they are afraid and in the day time it's very risky. But there's one who moves like a shadow and it seems that not even the monsters can see him. He's able to literally vanish in public and rob the houses without being punished during the bright day.”

  Magnus lost himself in thoughts for a while, then nodded faintly and his expression cleared. “Yeah, I think I've seen the 'wanted' announcement today. But still, I don't think you should choose such drastic methods-”

  “Fine. If you're such a milksop, we'll use the fishnet,” said the girl firmly, her eyes darting to the room's corner where there lay a stinky green net. But why did she say we? Did she want to involve Magnus in this as well?

  Even though nothing happened for a few hours, the girl wasn't losing her passion for catching thieves. She was constantly upgrading her traps.

  Magnus let out a bored sigh. “Where are the owners of this shop, by the way?”

  “Not here, it's closed,” said the girl as she was fastening a rope with the fishnet to the ceiling. There was a whole net of ropes already. It seemed she had spent a lot of time on this masterpiece, even though Magnus would have finished it in just a few minutes.

  “Don't tell me they hired you to capture the thief,” said Magnus, but his voice slipped into a slight tone of disbelief. He shook his head as he looked at the web of ropes which appeared to him like an utterly exaggerated trap for catching a single thief. From the sight of it, it looked more like she wanted to ensnare a wild bear.

  “Do you have something against it?” said the girl, shooting him a reproving look because it looked as if he was close to laughing.

  “No, not at all,” said Magnus quickly and the amusement in his voice disappeared at once. “I haven't said anything like that. But why was the entrance door open?”

  “To lure him in, what else?” said the girl, still holding the cord, and with a swing she descended from the ceiling, landing gently on her feet. “I fight for truth and justice, I am the fear of all robbers and the hope of all the poor,” she said dreamily.

  It seemed that Magnus kept meeting only girls who intended to become great heroes. One wished to be a powerful mage, another wanted to be a mighty fighter! “Nobody's going to come anyway,” he grunted, losing hope that he could acquire any clothes at all.

  Seemingly in response to these words, a quiet sound of opening doors issued from downstairs. They both turned to the hallway.

  “On the spot!” whispered the girl indignantly, her dark blue eyes glinting with excitement, fastened upon Magnus' silvery ones as though she expected him to do a certain move.

  Magnus looked puzzled as she didn't mention anything like that before. “What spot?” he said in a clueless tone, but the answer he obtained was not a verbal one. Instead, he was poked sideways so harshly, it pushed him right in front of the worn wardrobe. His pupils widened in horror. No longer was he looking at the charming young girl but at a stocky man covered in a shaggy green cloak standing on the doorstep. The thief!

  “You!” roared a familiar voice, its owner's sharp face contorting in undisguised ferocity.

  “Oh no,” muttered Magnus as his eyes bulged even more, realising that it was his “old friend” from the previous night. He found himself pinned against the wardrobe door. There was nowhere to escape when the thief charged at him unexpectedly.

  “Aaaargh!” snarled the stocky man angrily, but he was ensnared by a compact net halfway there. He was knocked down right at Magnus' feet.

  The fighter girl grinned at Magnus from above, holding a sharp knife that she just used to cut the rope with. But it wasn't over yet.

  The thief reached out fiercely to Magnus who had difficulty dodging successfully. He was jumping on the spot as if he were a folk dancer.

  All of a sudden, the girl swung down on a rope, landing on the thief's back, but he shook her off like nothing.

  “Quickly, hold him down!” she shouted.

  Magnus wasn't sure if she addressed these words to him but there was nobody else except the three of them in the whole house. How could she expect him to assault this giant? But in the next moment he was forced to do it. The thief reached his hand out so furiously, the only thing Magnus could do was jump high in the air. Thanks to this move, Magnus got on the thief's back as if he were riding a horse.

  Magnus noticed that the thief was quite startled. He used this chance and held the thief's hands behind his back, while his new fighter friend rushed there and tied him down securely.

  The thief spat from hatred.

  As soon as they finished their feat, the guards bolted into the room along with artists prepared to capture this memorable moment and last but certainly not least, a married couple – the owners of the house.

  The woman gasped in shock, looking at the tied up thief.

  “Good work,” said one of the guards. “We've been searching for him for a long time.”

  The guards didn't hesitate. They grabbed the thief even with the fetid fishnet on him and dragged him out.

  “You will pay for this,” the thief hissed at Magnus as he shot him a spiteful look, staring at him till the guards escorted him out of sight.

  While everyone was delighted from the great success, Magnus was happy mainly for two things. First, the guards who arrived were not Eagle and Jackal. Seco
nd, the owners of the shop were so pleased they gave new clothes to both him and the girl for free. At last he wouldn't walk around like a scarecrow!

  A group of artists and painters gathered around Magnus and his new-found fighter friend. “That's it, now smile a little,” said one of them. “Cute children!”

  Magnus stood upright like a statue, an unnatural grin on his face. Everyone in the room came to the conclusion that Magnus was definitely not a photogenic type. His pretty friend, on the contrary, leaned lightly around his shoulders and enchanted all the painters with her fair smile. The painters were already making plans of painting her again some day. When they finished their work, the girl was so excited she asked for one small portrait for herself to keep. To her, this was truly an unforgettable moment.

  The time flew by and Magnus decided to leave. It was almost dark outside and not a single person in the street. People were barricading the last windows and doors.

  “Are you sure you don't want to spend the night here?” asked the girl hopefully.

  Magnus stopped in front of the shop's entrance. “Thanks, but I have rented a room in a tavern for like... the next two years, so I guess I should use it at least one more time,” he said merrily, letting out a light snigger.

  “I see,” uttered the girl in disappointment. “That's a pity, we make a really good team. I haven't introduced myself yet. I am Fjalldís.” It looked like she secretly re-named him from a duffer to a hero.

  “I am Magnus. It was very nice meeting you,” said Magnus, smiling for the farewell. As he stepped forward, he heard the girl's voice behind him again.

  “Wait!” shrieked Fjalldís, bringing Magnus to a halt. “Can we see each other again?”

  “Most likely not,” said Magnus, suddenly in a slightly downcast tone. “In the morning I'm leaving by a cart to a guild located in a citadel. It's about an hour ride from here.”

  “Really? So am I!” shrieked Fjalldís in amazement. In the end she found a friend. And what's more, she didn't have to part with him!