Fes looked at Horus. “Not this time.”
“Interesting. When it’s all over, why don’t you come and see me.”
“I don’t know that you’re willing to afford me.”
“You might be surprised. I might have other jobs that you would be interested in.”
“This one might not be about the money, but that doesn’t mean others aren’t.”
Fes patted the table and got up, heading out of the tavern. As he made his way through the streets, he had the sense that someone followed him. He ducked off into a nearby alley and waited. A pair of men hesitated along the street where he had been standing.
“I saw him disappear,” a voice said in the darkness.
“There aren’t any other buildings here. He could have gone into a tavern but he just came out of that one,” one of the men said.
They were following him. Could they be Carter’s men? If they were, Fes wasn’t about to let them find him, not easily. He had until morning, and he intended to take as much of that time as possible to make his preparations.
But maybe there was something more that he could do. Maybe he could discover something about what Carter planned.
He unsheathed his daggers. A soft thrill rippled through him, and he ran his fingers along the hilt, feeling the smoothness. They were made entirely of dragonglass and were solid—much more solid than anything that Tracen could make—and had been with him since his parents died.
One of the men looked down the alley.
Fes lunged.
He didn’t want to kill these men. If they did work for Carter, it would be best to avoid antagonizing her more than was necessary. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t slow them.
He reached the nearest man and slipped his dagger into the guy’s shoulder. The man grunted, and Fes brought the other hand around, catching him in the side of the head with the hilt. The man crumpled, and Fes wiped the blade on the man’s shirt.
He turned to the other man. He had unsheathed his sword and now faced Fes with an angry sort of sneer to his face. “Don’t make this any more difficult than it needs to be.”
“Me?” Fes asked. “I’m not making anything difficult.”
“We were sent to bring you in.”
“You can tell Carter that I had until morning. She didn’t need to send anyone after me until then.”
“Carter? I think you have it wrong.”
Fes shook his head. “I doubt that.” He lunged toward the man, and as he did, he caught a flash of the crest on his leather jacket. The man was a soldier, not merely a mercenary or street thief as Fes had believed at first. He flicked his gaze to the fallen man and saw that he wore a similar leather jacket with a similar crest.
Empire men.
Skies of fire. Had he made a mistake?
Maybe these weren’t Carter’s men, but if they weren’t, why would the empire send soldiers for him? Azithan never did, knowing that Fes wouldn’t react well to having soldiers come after him, which meant that someone else had sent them.
“Who are you?”
“Captain Jaken. I was sent to bring you in.”
Captain? That meant the Dragon Guard. “Bring me in where?”
The man regarded Fes for a long moment. “I can see from your expression that you already know.”
“Consider my expression the only part of me that does. Where are you to bring me?”
“The palace. The emperor would like to have words with you.”
Fes considered his options. He could overpower this man. He didn’t have any doubt about his ability to defeat a single soldier, but how many more would he have to fight? If the emperor had sent men after him, it was likely—and probable—that he would have sent countless others. He didn’t like the odds of finding some way to evade all the soldiers in the city if it came to it.
If the emperor intended to reach him, what was Fes going to do to stop it? He didn’t have enough connections to escape the emperor.
Would Azithan have anything to do with this? He remembered the weary look from the fire mage when he’d been in the palace, but somehow, he didn’t think Azithan was involved. Why him, then? And why now?
“Why does the emperor want me?” In all the time he’d served Azithan, he’d never met the emperor. Azithan had always kept him away.
“I’m a soldier, not an advisor. I was sent to bring you to him.”
“Why?”
“As I said, I’m a soldier. I’m not here to answer those questions.”
“You might be a soldier, but you know something.”
“Do you intend to make this difficult?”
Fes hazarded a quick glance at the fallen man. “Difficult for who? You?”
The captain started to smile, and Fes realized almost too late that he had been played. It wasn’t only the two of them. Several other soldiers were making their way down the street. All of them were armed. All of them wore the leather jackets that signified that they served the emperor directly. Dragon Guards. They would be skilled, and possibly more than he could manage alone.
Even if he wanted to try to overpower them—and even if he somehow managed to do so—Fes didn’t think that was the best idea. If he did, he ran the risk of having half of the emperor’s guard searching through the city for him.
He had no desire to work with Carter—not if he didn’t have to—but helping Indra was a different matter altogether.
“Fine. I’ll go with you.”
The captain smiled at him. “I figured you would make that decision.”
Fes fell in behind him as they made their way through the city. A dozen soldiers joined them, appearing out of shadows. He tried not to glance over at them, not wanting them to know that they made him uncomfortable, but every so often, he hazarded a glance.
Most of the soldiers were fit, the kind of lithe muscularity that suggested regular sparring. Fes had a hard time believing that the emperor’s soldiers had much direct experience fighting. The empire had been at peace far too long for that to be the case. The soldiers sent to face the rebels were typically little more than conscripts, and the empire viewed their lives less warmly than it did men like Captain Jaken. While there were tales of fighting along the eastern coastline, Fes thought that were likely only rumors.
The return to the palace was swift. Typically, when Fes went to the palace, he didn’t feel any sense of unease, having long since moved past the nerves he once had. Instead, he felt far more comfortable at the palace than he should. Maybe that was part of the problem. Maybe he had allowed himself to grow too complacent when it came to going to the palace. He knew better than that.
They traipsed up a series of stairs, taking the main entrance. It was an entrance that Fes had never gone through before, and it allowed him to see the wealth of the palace more easily. Everything inside was all marble and carried on the backs of slaves. The stonework was incredible, unmatched anywhere else throughout the city. Sculptures depicting fallen emperors adorned the halls, and paintings along the walls illustrated scenes from the ancient battle when the empire defeated the dragons. It hadn’t been an empire then. It had been a single nation. One of men and women who had gained the power of the dragons in order to overthrow the creatures.
Fes was silent throughout the walk. What was there for him to say? He was uncomfortable and occasionally glanced over at the men walking alongside him. The soldiers had split off, leaving him with a guard of only six, but inside the palace, those six would be more than enough to prevent Fes from doing anything stupid. In here, he knew better than to attack the guards; dozens of others would be nearby. And that was only the regular soldiers. Azithan wasn’t the only fire mage in the palace.
They reached a massive pair of doors. They were thrown open, letting light spill out from inside an enormous chamber. The marble inside was all black, reflecting the light and making it dance in strange ways.
As Fes entered, he realized it wasn’t marble at all.
Dragonglass.
&nbs
p; All of this was dragonglass.
His hand drifted to the hilt of one of his daggers, thinking about how precious they were to him, but even both of his daggers were nothing compared to the breadth of dragonglass that was here.
Dragonglass was rare—at least, Fes had believed it to be rare. What he saw here did not fit with that. Not only was it rare, but to the right person, it was incredibly valuable. How much wealth was accumulated here, situated on the floor as if it were no more important than the slaves who likely had been used to carry it in?
Fes pulled his attention away from the dragonglass and found it drawn to a massive throne at the end of the chamber. His gaze skimmed past a table with chairs surrounding it. Much like the floor and the walls, the table was made of dragonglass. In order for the table and flooring to be as smooth as they were, it would have required flattening out the irregularities that normally were found with dragonglass. Something that Fes knew was incredibly difficult.
Strangely, the other thought that came to mind was the fact that his daggers would do nothing against this.
He wondered whether they would shatter. For that matter, how had the dragonglass been smoothed in this way? Given how indestructible his daggers were, he couldn’t imagine anything being able to damage dragonglass. Not easily.
Could they have used fire mages to do that?
If they had, it seemed an incredible waste of power—or, more likely, an incredible demonstration of power.
The throne was similarly made. Constructed entirely of dragonglass, it shimmered with striations of color.
Fes frowned. Could the throne be some dragon relic? All the dragon relics that he had ever seen—at least the authentic ones—had similar striations and a similar color to them. It made sense for the emperor to have a throne that was a true dragon relic, as the dragon relics were the reason that the empire even existed. Without them, and without the power of the relics, there would be no empire.
“Wait here,” Captain Jaken said.
Fes had no choice but to comply. Now that he was here, he wondered if perhaps he should have resisted, and instead, fought his way free. He intended to leave the city anyway and he intended to go with Carter, helping Indra get safely home, but standing here, amidst the guard, he wondered whether he would even get that chance. Would the emperor prevent him from helping Indra?
Doors at the back of the room opened, and a procession of people appeared. A pair of guards marched at the head, both of them carrying unsheathed swords that glittered with the lantern light, making it clear that they were dragonglass. They were like longer versions of his daggers.
He glanced over at Captain Jaken. What if his sword was dragonglass?
Fes doubted that he would have been able to overpower him. Maybe that was the point. A sword like that would be useful—almost as useful as his daggers.
“Am I supposed to bow?” he whispered to Captain Jaken.
“Stand in place,” the captain replied.
Fes didn’t think that he could move anyway. Watching the emperor make his way toward him left him with a strange thrill. Not many people were able to have time with the emperor, but those who did often ended up on the wrong side of things.
If he had to fight his way out of here, could he?
It was a strange thought and, looking at the soldiers arranged around him, along with the emperor taking his place on the throne, Fes doubted that he could—especially as the emperor was rumored to be a powerful fire mage. He doubted his daggers would allow him to block the kind of magic that someone like the emperor would likely be able to wield.
“Are you the one they call Fezarn?”
The emperor had a deep, booming voice. It filled the entirety of the hall, carrying easily to Fes’s ears.
“That’s me,” Fes said. “You didn’t need to send an army after me.”
The emperor leaned back in his chair, considering him. He said nothing as his gaze drifted from Fes’s head down to his toes before looking up and glancing over at one of the people standing next to his chair.
Fes had lost track of the others entering the room with the emperor, and he realized that he shouldn’t have. A dark-haired woman stood on the other side of the emperor. Cloaked in the maroon of the empire, she looked at Fes with interest.
The emperor whispered something to her, and Fes wished that he could hear. What was he saying? For that matter, who was she?
Eventually, the emperor turned his attention back to Fes. “You are a scavenger, is that correct?”
Fes frowned. Was this about his working with Azithan? He was surprised that Azithan wasn’t here if he knew that Fes had been summoned. Then again, maybe Azithan didn’t know.
“A collector. Not a scavenger.”
The emperor stared at him. “They are the same.”
“Not entirely,” he said. He shouldn’t be so impertinent, but what did he have to lose? “If you have need of my collecting abilities, I’m happy to be hired. It wouldn’t be the first—”
“I have no need to hire a scavenger,” the emperor said.
Fes bit back when he was going to say. Did the emperor not realize that Fes had been working on his behalf over the last few years? Could he not realize that others like him had been hired by Azithan? Maybe the emperor didn’t realize where many of his dragon relics came from.
“Why did you call me here?”
“Because you have stolen from me.”
Fes shook his head. “I haven’t stolen from you. Ask—”
The emperor raised his hand and Fes was cut off. “Were you not recently in Vayan?”
Fes nodded. Could this have something to do with the fire mage that he had fought? “I was there.”
“And you attacked one of my servants.”
“I didn’t attack any of your servants.”
The emperor turned over his shoulder and when he did, another figure stepped forward. One that he hadn’t realized was standing there. The slender, raven-haired fire mage that he had faced in the streets of Vayan took a position next to the emperor. She watched him with a dangerous expression, one that dared him to argue. And, how could he? Azithan was not here.
Chapter Six
Fes shifted, his mind racing as he tried to understand what was taking place. If the fire mage worked on behalf of the emperor, why had Azithan sent him after whatever she’d had? Azithan would had to have known, wouldn’t he? Unless he was setting Fes up. He’d worked for Azithan for a while now… and Fes had provided him with a forged dragon heart. Could Azithan know?
“Where are the items you took from her?”
“You mean the dragon pearls?”
The emperor glanced over at the fire mage before she nodded. “You took dragon pearls from a servant of the emperor?” the emperor asked, turning his attention back to Fes.
“I didn’t know that she was your servant.”
“All fire mages serve the empire. And who else other than the empire has access to dragon pearls?”
Fes resisted the urge to laugh at the question. The emperor had to know that there were others with dragon pearls. They were unique, but they weren’t so terribly unique that it was impossible for someone else to have them.
“I didn’t know that she was your servant,” Fes said. He chose the statement carefully. Whatever else was happening here, it seemed to him that it might be some sort of power play. Maybe Azithan had gone out of favor. He didn’t know what connection Azithan had with the emperor, other than the fact that he stayed in the palace, but if he had Fes go after this fire mage, and if she were working with the emperor, then he needed to be cautious.
“Did you know that she was a fire mage?” the emperor asked.
“Not when I first saw her,” Fes said.
“When did you discover this?”
“When she attacked me.”
“And you didn’t think to avoid such confrontation? Once you discovered that she was a fire mage, and a servant of the empire, you continued to persist in your attac
k?”
He wasn’t certain that he would get anywhere with this line of questioning. And how could he? The emperor had already made up his mind, which meant that Fes was now needing to prove himself. But how?
The only way was to report on Azithan, but where was he?
“I was sent on an assignment by Azithan.”
The emperor frowned. “Azithan would not make such a mistake.”
“Maybe not, but he is the one who sent me on the assignment.”
Fes wasn’t certain whether he should be speaking so freely about Azithan, but if Azithan wasn’t here to vouch for him, then he needed to ensure he didn’t end up on the wrong end of the emperor’s wrath.
The emperor glanced over at the fire mage. “If Azithan is responsible—”
Fes wasn’t certain why the emperor wouldn’t elaborate, but there seemed to be something more that he was missing. What was going on here? Whatever it was, he felt as if he were caught between the fire mages, and it was a position that he was not comfortable with.
“I warned you about him,” the fire mage said.
“You warned him?” Fes said, biting back the urge to say more.
The emperor stared at Fes a moment. “How well do you know Azithan?”
Fes shrugged. “I have been collecting for him for a few years. Why?”
The emperor smiled. There was something dangerous in the smile, and Fes immediately tensed. He disliked the way the emperor looked at him, and he felt uncomfortable. It was easy to know why he felt so uncomfortable. The emperor was powerful. Even if he wasn’t a fire mage, his power was enough that he could simply speak the words and the Dragon Guard would end him.
“You have been scavenging on behalf of Azithan for years?” The emperor glanced over at the other fire mage. “How much do you think he has accumulated in that time?”
“It depends on what he has acquired,” she said. “But this one has skill. I have seen it in him.”
Fes hesitated. Would she reveal what she suspected of him? He wasn’t certain that he wanted anyone to think of him as Deshazl. He didn’t know what it meant. He certainly didn’t want the emperor to think that he was Deshazl.
Dragon Blessed (The Dragonwalker Book 2) Page 5
