Dragon Tear (Agents of the Crown Book 5)

by Lindsay Buroker

  Zenia grimaced. She’d forgotten about that.

  “Or maybe it’s someone else,” Jev added.

  Was it possible a whole group of people was trying to steal the dragon tear? Or multiple groups?

  Zenia had always known dragon tears were valuable and she also knew Targyon had given her a unique and extremely powerful one, but she wasn’t used to worrying about thieves. Back in Korvann, few people, even those in the largest gangs, would have dared steal one from an inquisitor. Not when all the magical resources of that inquisitor’s Temple were nearby to protect her or take revenge. She doubted many people would risk the ire of the king’s Crown Agents either.

  But what was she here? A simple traveler as far as the people of Izstara knew.

  It did seem odd that someone had so quickly sensed that she carried this magical artifact. Or maybe not. Humans didn’t have innate magic, but many of the other races did. An elf—or perhaps a troll—might have sensed her dragon tear as soon as she came into port, like a hound catching the scent of a particularly appealing squirrel.

  “Does your thoughtful silence connote agreement?” Jev asked.

  His brow had a concerned crinkle to it, and she sensed that he was worried about her. Specifically about her being a target.

  “Unfortunately, yes. I think you’re right. I don’t see how someone here could have anticipated my mission and would care one way or another about my goal, but the dragon tear would be desirable to many people, and this continent seems lawless by Kor’s standards.”

  “I’ll agree with that. My understanding is that there aren’t many true nations with governments and legal systems in place here. There are a few city states and coalitions of tribes, but with so many of the settlements being relatively isolated from each other, it’s mostly every town for itself.” Jev looked toward the porthole, the gray sky the only thing visible from their position on the bed. “Can you tell if that other boat is still following us? I heard some noise as we were killing the manticore. It sounded like it might have crashed.”

  “A tree fell across the river and blocked it.”

  “Ah, your doing?”

  “Sort of.” Zenia touched her dragon tear. A hint of its familiar feeling of smugness emanated from it. The gem had been subdued since the encounter with the orcs, and Zenia was glad when it shared the emotion.

  “I don’t suppose it utterly destroyed that boat and all aboard it when it fell,” Jev said.

  Zenia didn’t think so, but she created an image of his suggestion in her mind and shared it with the dragon tear as a question.

  The image that came back was of a green riverboat with a paddlewheel similar to theirs, but the middle of the vessel was blurry. The dragon tear still couldn’t see the interior or tell who was aboard, aside from a couple of troll crewmen patrolling the deck. A faint shimmering bubble appeared around the boat. Zenia didn’t know if that was an actual representation or a figurative one, but she grasped the meaning, that the boat was magically protected.

  Do you know who our enemy is? she asked silently, grasping for a way to convey the question with images.

  But the dragon tear understood. It shared the image it had shared before, the one of the shadowy figure with its face hidden.

  That’s who’s following us? Zenia thought.

  The equivalent of an affirmative nod came from the dragon tear.

  “It’s not destroyed,” Zenia said, aware of Jev watching her patiently, waiting for an answer. “It’s only delayed and probably not for long because the person following us is powerful.”

  “Magically powerful?”

  “Well, it’s possible he could beat you in an arm-wrestling contest too, but my dragon tear doesn’t care much about that.”

  Jev snorted, and she was glad she’d managed to lighten the expression on his face, if only for a moment.

  “It’s a he?” he asked.

  “Not necessarily. I’m just guessing. I’ve only seen a cloaked figure in shadows so far. I do think it’s possible it’s the same person who was spying on us on the beach.”

  “The engineer said whoever that was had some magical artifact. He saw something glowing.”

  “That makes sense. This person may have innate magic of his own if he’s not human, but he could have artifacts too. Maybe he collects them.” Zenia grimaced, imagining someone killing her and everyone on board this boat simply to add her dragon tear to some collection mounted over a fireplace. She doubted this person would care about freeing the dragon. He might want to keep it imprisoned to ensure the dragon tear itself retained its power.

  “I’m tempted to ask the captain to pull over so we can set up an ambush and more permanently disable that boat,” Jev said. “We don’t want it following us all the way to our destination. What if this powerful magic user decides to attack us as we’re trying to rescue your dragon?”

  It bemused her that Jev called it her dragon, as if she could claim ownership over such a powerful creature. She wasn’t even sure if she would continue to have ownership over the dragon tear after they freed the dragon. Not that she owned the gem now; she merely wielded it on the king’s behalf.

  “I think the magic user would sense it if we stopped our boat and that he would also stop theirs,” Zenia said. “So far, they’ve stayed a consistent distance behind us, haven’t they?”

  “Yes. I didn’t even notice another boat back there until Hydal said something. And he’s only caught a couple of glimpses through the trees as we’ve gone around bends.”

  “It would be difficult to ambush them and… Do we have the right to risk this boat and its crew in a fight? They only signed on to transport us upriver. We didn’t mention that we would be pursued.”

  “Because we didn’t know we would be pursued. And I paid handsomely for them to transport us. A few risks ought to be included in that fee.”

  Zenia smiled briefly, but she didn’t believe they should risk others. It was bad enough that she was risking all the people that Targyon had sent with her or who had simply agreed to come because they wanted to help. Like Rhi and Cutter and Hydal. And Jev. She reached up and touched his cheek. He hadn’t shaved for a couple of days, and stubble adorned his jaw.

  “Are you thinking about how sexy I look with manticore blood spattered all over me?” he asked.

  “Of course.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Maybe you could get your own dragon tear someday so you would know my thoughts.”

  “I’m afraid they would be depressingly chaste and that I’d feel lurid in comparison.”

  “They’re not always chaste, I assure you.” Zenia shifted so she could lean her chest on his and rest her face against the side of his neck. “I appreciate having you here with me, keeping randy orcs and mind-controlled manticores away.”

  “And does your appreciation make you randy?”

  “Sometimes.”

  Jev stroked her hair. He seemed to understand that she wasn’t particularly randy now. She supposed that could change if his hands roamed elsewhere, but she had too many concerns floating through her mind to feel like kissing or anything else. She did hope they had the opportunity to enjoy each other’s company on a more vigorous level when they returned. Maybe by then, the zyndari—and zyndar—gossips running their mouths around the city would have found someone new to focus on.

  “I think if I did get a dragon tear,” Jev said, “I’d ask for one to make me a better fighter. I know I’m competent against drunk orcs, and the elven sword is a fine blade that gives me a little extra speed, but since I’m not good at magic or organization or running an office, it would be nice to be an extraordinary warrior.”

  “You’re not bad at running the office—you ran a whole company before, right? You just haven’t been there enough to get familiar with everything and everyone yet.”

  “I’m not sure that’s going to change since I seem to keep running into other duties pulling me other directions. I could at least be a noble
-warrior figurehead for Targyon. Though if I had a dragon tear that let me manipulate people’s minds, there would be the temptation…”

  “To manipulate your father?” Zenia guessed.

  “How did you know?”

  “He’s a contemptuous man.”

  “He’s a constipated man.”

  “He didn’t discuss that with me.”

  “Good.” Jev laughed and squeezed her head gently. “Actually, we haven’t discussed that either. I’m making assumptions since it might explain the contemptuousness. And his piss-poor attitude toward life in general.” He sighed. “I don’t truly want to manipulate his mind—it vexed me and offended my honor that Zyndari Bashlari Bludnor so brazenly did so. I do wish I had the magical power to make him see what’s right. He’s always talked about honor and following the Code, but he can’t seem to grasp that you’re a good woman and would make a wonderful mother to his grandchildren.” Jev hesitated. “If that’s what you want.”

  They hadn’t talked about if she wanted to have children, only that she didn’t want to have them outside of marriage and by herself. She realized they should have that discussion, especially if he somehow convinced his father that they should wed and he should remain the Dharrow heir. Having children would be important for Jev and all those who depended on his family.

  “It’s something I’ve thought about,” Zenia said slowly, “but I’ve always expected I would have to work too—I mean, I wanted to work. I was proud of catching criminals and being a good inquisitor. And I’m proud to have been chosen as one of His Majesty’s Crown Agents.”

  “Captain of them,” Jev pointed out.

  “So long as we return before Targyon is forced to give the job back to Garlok.”

  “I punched Garlok before we left and told him he was fired. I’m not positive I have the power to fire people, but I think it’s more likely that Sevy would end up in charge.”

  “She needs to mature for a few more years before she’s ready to run the office,” Zenia said, “though I do think she has potential. If she’s interested.”

  “I know Wyleria would like it if she stayed somewhere easy to visit. Though Wyleria would probably like a mind-manipulating dragon tear for her parents too.” Jev lowered his hand and tucked his chin to look at her face. “It’s all right if you don’t want children. I don’t want you to feel pressured. I’d be delighted if we simply worked together and went back to the same room at night. One that doesn’t smell of dwarves and tobacco.”

  “I’ll make a note not to get you incense in that scent for your birthday.”

  “Thank you.”

  Zenia was glad he didn’t want to pressure her, but she would feel pressure even if he didn’t apply it himself. Just because of who he was and what was expected of him. Among other things, having heirs.

  But before she had ever met him, she had thought of children and what it would be like to raise them, and how sad she might feel later in her life if they never came about. Her lack of a family made her wistful from time to time, and she imagined what it would be like to have kin to celebrate holidays with. At the temple, she’d at least had the other monks and mages who also had no families, but that hadn’t been quite the same. And now, she didn’t even have them.

  Of course, Jev had a large, extended family, and he wasn’t enamored with them, at least not some of them. Family was no guarantee of holiday happiness. But Zenia liked Wyleria and wouldn’t mind getting to know some of his aunts and cousins… assuming they would treat her like an equal instead of some common snipe who’d latched onto Jev out of a desire for personal gain.

  “If I could continue to work, I would be open to having children,” she said. “I can’t imagine myself as only a mother though. I believe I will settle in and do well in my new position—do good for the king and the kingdom—if it’s not arrogant to say that.”

  “It’s not, and you already are doing good. I think I mentioned before that I had tutors and a nanny, and that my mother worked in the family businesses when Vastiun and I were boys. I know my father is onerous, but there are more appealing people around—family and staff—to help with child raising. Or we could hire someone from the villages too. You could choose. Or we both could.”

  Zenia smiled, realizing by how quickly he was speaking that he was excited at the idea of children. He’d thought about this before, she knew, but his face grew animated as he spoke, and she sensed that it had turned from speculative talk to something he truly wanted. With her.

  “I would think we would want to choose someone together,” Zenia said. “Maybe someone could even come to Alderoth Castle with us to care for the child or children while we’re in the office.”

  “Children.” He grinned goofily, though his eyebrows rose when he added, “At Alderoth Castle? I’m not sure Targyon would agree to dedicating a portion of his residence to childcare.”

  “Why not? It’s huge. All of his odious brothers’ families are living there, along with dozens of people I can’t even name. Hundreds if you count the staff. Besides, maybe he’ll marry and have children of his own by then.”

  “The only woman I’m aware of that he has an eye on has pointed ears and lives on another continent. One we invaded and tried to conquer.”

  “Not all relationships are as easy to consummate as ours.”

  Jev snorted again. “Your sense of humor has developed a lot since we first met. Or did you simply decide that I’m worth joking with?”

  “It’s possible you’re rubbing off on me. And I definitely decided that you’re somewhat appealing under your zyndarness.”

  “Somewhat?”

  “You are covered in manticore blood.”

  “You said you didn’t mind that.”

  “No, I didn’t comment on it at all. Because I was being polite.”

  “Oh. Hm.” Jev touched her cheek. His eyes twinkled, and he tilted his chin down to kiss her.

  Zenia wasn’t surprised when someone knocked on the door. Interruptions seemed to be a requirement whenever they decided to tickle tongues.

  “Jev?” came Cutter’s voice through the door. “You naked?”

  “No.” Jev drew back, though he didn’t remove the arms he had wrapped around Zenia.

  “Is Zenia naked?”

  “No.”

  Zenia thought she heard someone groan in disappointment. It didn’t sound like Cutter.

  The door opened, and Cutter ambled in carrying Jev’s elven sword, blood dried on the blade. Zenia wrinkled her nose. Borti strolled in behind him.

  “You left this sticking out of a flying bird monster.” Cutter waved the blade in the air.

  “We decided it’s a manticore,” Jev said.

  “Whatever it is, you left your sword in it after skewering it. Since I’m a loyal friend, I brought it to you.” He leaned it against the bulkhead next to the bed.

  “You could have wiped it off,” Jev said as a not-so-dried drop of blood ran down the blade to the deck.

  “I said I was a loyal friend, not a loyal servant. The captain wants to see you.” Cutter and Borti exchanged looks that immediately made Zenia think that more trouble was afoot. Or maybe the captain wanted to question someone about the current trouble.

  “The other boat isn’t back, is it?” Jev looked at Zenia.

  She checked in with her dragon tear and learned that the other boat’s crew had cleared the fallen tree and that they were heading upriver again. “It’s not back, not close, but it’s resumed its journey in our direction.”

  Jev’s expression turned distasteful. “I’ll let the captain know.”

  Zenia shifted so he could ease out of the bunk. “If he wants us to get off the boat so his crew won’t be threatened, I understand.”

  “That’s not going to happen,” Jev said firmly. “I haven’t seen any roads or even trails along the river for miles and miles. It would take three years to walk all the way to those valleys through that dense jungle. But don’t worry. You stay here and relax. I
’ll take care of it.”

  He nodded firmly, picked up his sword, and walked out with the others.

  Relaxing wasn’t what Zenia had in mind, but she lay back on the bed for now. Better to let Jev talk with the captain. Even here, his zyndar status might give him some sway. Or, if not that, the coins in his purse.

  If she were to speak with the captain, she would have to rely on her dragon tear’s manipulation ability, and since she feared they were in the wrong for endangering the boat and crew, she would be reluctant to use it on him.

  “What are the chances we’ll make it to those valleys without any more trouble?” she murmured, touching the gem.

  The sense of uncertainty that emanated from it wasn’t reassuring.

  9

  As night approached, Jev sat on the roof with Hydal and Cutter, gazing down the darkening river behind them. According to Hydal, who had been keeping watch, the other riverboat hadn’t been seen all afternoon.

  Narken, the dwarven captain, knew something was amiss though. At first, he’d seemed to believe the attack on Zenia had been a fluke, that the manticore had taken a shine to her luxurious shiny hair—those had been his exact words—but someone must have suggested that a greater threat was out there. Maybe one of his own people had a dragon tear or other artifact and had sensed the troll boat following him. However he knew, he’d been blunt when he accused Jev of bringing trouble up the river after them. Jev had a feeling he would have already dumped Zenia’s team off on a bank if he didn’t think her hair was so appealing. It probably didn’t hurt that she carried a dragon tear and Jev carried the elven blade.

  Hydal removed his spectacles and wiped them with his shirt. “My eyes could use a rest.”

  “Take a break, my friend,” Jev said.

  The rain had shifted to a drizzle, but it was still damp, humid, and unpleasant. Further, the screeches, hoots, and roars that came from the jungle grated on one’s nerves after a while. The monkeys, in particular, were loud and incessant with their hoots. Jev wasn’t sure if their boat was being jeered, admired, or completely ignored. Maybe the monkeys were always this excited.