by James Maxey
Her head drooped as her arms fell to her side, a final sigh bubbling from her lips.
“These were servants of the Murder God!” Androkom shouted from his perch. “Suicide assassins! There could be a whole army of them!”
“Let’s hope there’s just the four,” Jandra said, running to Shandrazel. “How long since he was stabbed?”
“Only a few minutes,” said Pet. “Four assassins? I counted three.”
“I killed one upstairs,” she said as she ran her hands over Shandrazel’s hide. “Where was he stabbed? I need to touch his blood.”
“He was struck in the jaw,” Androkom called out.
Jandra ran her hands along the line of his long, crocodilian jaw. “Found it!” she shouted as her fingers wriggled into the stab wound. “He’s still alive,” she said, seconds later. “I’ll need a moment to find all the poison.”
Pet stood over her, looking at himself reflected in her silver helmet. “This is a new look for you,” he said. “I liked the tiara more. But the skirt does show off your calves.”
“Can we discuss my wardrobe another time?”
Pet shrugged, then went back to check on the other two assassins. The girl who’d been hit by the flower pot was obviously dead, the top of her skull dented in. He moved to the second one, kneeling beside her. Blood no longer spurted from her wrist. He placed his fingers on her throat, feeling for a pulse. Nothing. She’d lost too much blood.
“Too bad we didn’t take one alive,” said Pet. “We could have found out what they’re here for.”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Androkom said. “They’re here to free the Murder God! Damn Shandrazel! I told him to kill that monster.”
Shandrazel mumbled, his jaws barely moving, “I will… consider your counsel.”
There was a commotion in the hall, the heavy slapping sound of earth-dragons running at full speed, their weapons and armor clattering. Two of them burst into the courtyard, shouting, “Sire! Sire!”
Shandrazel raised his head slowly, an effort that seemed to require all his strength. Jandra, her fingers still in his wound, looked almost as if she moved his head like some oversized puppet.
“Hold still,” she grumbled.
“Sire,” the first guard said, skidding to a halt in front of Shandrazel. “Blasphet is no longer in his cell!”
“I knew it!” Androkom said, vindicated.
“We found these,” the second guard said as he reached Shandrazel. He held out his arm and opened his claw. In the palm sat several pale lumps of torn flesh. Pet stepped closer, then recoiled when his eyes finally solved the puzzle of what he was seeing. The dragon was holding severed human tongues.
“They cut out their own tongues so they couldn’t talk if they were captured,” Androkom said.
Pet looked back at pale pink lumps in morbid fascination. Many tongues had been in his mouth over the years. He doubted he could ever kiss anyone again without thinking of this. Then he realized that the silent tongues had one more bit of information to confess, as he counted them. “There’s one more assassin,” he said. “We’ve killed four, but there are five tongues.”
A large shadow fell over the room. Pet looked up to see a sun-dragon descending in the moonlight, his wings spread wide to catch the air as he glided toward the courtyard. Pet didn’t recognize this dragon, but he instantly recognized what the beast carried in his hind-talons. A human girl, nude, tattooed… the final assassin.
A foot from the brick, the dragon dropped the girl’s limp body. He spread his talons out to land. Once he was firmly on the ground, he placed a talon over the girl’s still form, trapping her.
“Hex!” Shandrazel shouted, excited.
“Hex?” Pet asked, looking at Jandra.
Jandra shrugged, not recognizing the name either.
“I heard you were king now,” Hex said. He nodded toward the woman he’d pinned. “Looks like our uncle has sent a gift for your coronation. I found her on the roof. I took her alive, in case you wanted to question her.”
“That’s useless,” Androkom said, his eyes darting about the courtyard, searching for more assassins in the shadows. “They’ve cut out their tongues.”
Jandra took her hand from Shandrazel’s throat and moved to the earth-dragon who held the tongues. She took one and walked toward Hex and his prisoner. She dropped to her knees and pried open the girl’s limp jaw. With a determined look on her face, she put her fingers into the girl’s mouth, exploring. A moment later, she shook her head.
“Not hers,” she said, tossing aside the tongue. “Hand me the next one. She’s going to be in for a surprise when she wakes up.”
Chapter Five:
Hex
Pet retrieved his pants as Jandra stuffed the third tongue into the girl’s mouth. His clothes lay near the dagger he’d swatted away from the girl he’d thrown in the pool. After he pulled on his pants and boots, he carefully picked up the dagger. The blade was full of pores, black venom oozing slowly from them. He shook the weapon gently and heard fluid sloshing in the handle. Up close, the poison stank, an odor somewhere between sour milk and boiled cabbage.
He jumped as Androkom dropped down beside him, an empty flower pot clasped in his fore-claws.
“Here,” Androkom said, motioning for Pet to put the weapon inside. “When Graxen returns, I’ll send the blade to the College of Spires. They’ll want to catalogue this toxin.”
Pet dropped the blade into the pot. He looked back over Androkom’s scaly blue shoulder to the newly arrived sun-dragon. Most humans, no doubt, thought all sun-dragons looked alike. All were enormous, with forty-foot wing spans and jaws nearly a yard in length. All were red as a ripe chili pepper, with green eyes and black claws. Pet, however, had lived among sky-dragons long enough that he could spot their individual differences. What had struck him as most unusual about this new dragon were the features he shared with Shandrazel. The dragon was older, a bit heavier, but the shape of his face, the normally unique bumps and ridges along the snout between the eyes and the nostrils, were a close match with Shandrazel.
Leaning closer to Androkom, he asked quietly, “Who’s that?”
The new sun-dragon proved to have excellent hearing. He turned his head toward Pet and said, “I am Hexilizan, eldest son of Albekizan.”
“Oh,” said Pet. “I didn’t know Shandrazel had any surviving brothers.”
“Hex is the only one alive I know of. The fate of two remain mysteries,” said Shandrazel.
“I was bested in the contest of succession nearly thirty years past and have dwelled ever since upon the Isle of Horses in service to the biologian Dacorn,” Hex said. “He met an untimely death not long ago, and I’ve been occupied settling his affairs. I’ve returned due to rumors I’ve heard of my brother’s plans.” Hex turned toward Shandrazel. “Is it true you intend to overthrow centuries of tradition and implement radical new ideas of governance?”
“We live in dark times if concepts such as justice can be defined as radical,” said Shandrazel.
“Dark times indeed,” said Hex. “As long as we speak of justice, I must ask about the second rumor: Father died at the hands of Bitterwood?”
“His true assailant is unknown,” said Shandrazel. “Bitterwood was in the Free City at the time, fighting for his life.”
It took Pet half a second to remember they were talking about him. He cleared his throat. He searched for words that a fabled dragon-slayer might say about the king’s death, something that would be defiant without being provocative. “Albekizan was responsible for the deaths of thousands. It was only a matter of time before someone sought revenge.”
“Agreed,” said Hexilizan. “Father was a tyrant. I do not mourn his passing.”
“Hex!” said Shandrazel.
“Shan,” Hexilizan said, coolly. “After my defeat, father treated me as if I were dead. I’ve spent decades in servitude due to the old ways. If you intend to overthrow all the laws and traditions that have shackled this kingdom for
centuries, I applaud you.”
“I do not wish to overthrow all laws,” Shandrazel said. “Indeed, I want to launch an age where laws are respected as upholding the common good. I intend to draft new laws that treat all sentient beings equally.”
“Do as you wish,” said Hex. “But I have pondered the matter for many years and now believe all laws to be fundamentally unjust. Laws exist only for the benefit of the strong; they unfailingly justify the oppression of the weak.”
“I vigorously disagree,” said Shandrazel. “Laws can serve to protect the weak from the strong.”
“Under your new government, if a sun-dragon were to murder an earth-dragon, how would your law respond?”
“The sun-dragon would be captured, of course, and punished.”
Hex looked smug he listened to his brother. He said, “Don’t you see the act of capturing and punishing another being is an act of force? It’s impossible to enforce laws without violence. Some authority always wields the power to arrest, to imprison, and to execute. The sole purpose of law is to provide a moral gloss for the use of violence to bend others to the will of a higher authority.”
Shandrazel furrowed his brow, looking uncertain how to respond to this.
Androkom diplomatically ended the argument by saying, “Hexilizan, you’ve obviously given a great deal of thought to these matters. Perhaps you should participate in our summit; your ideas will no doubt lead to a more lively debate.”
Hex shook his head. “I have been confined to the Isle of Horses for too long. Now that I’m free, I wish to travel and see the world. The thought of sitting for weeks at some summit debating governance holds no appeal. You now know my full opinion on the matter. All law is unjust.”
“Without law, there would be anarchy,” said Shandrazel.
“Anarchy isn’t such a bad thing. There is no law in the forest. There is no law in the sea. Let the world run wild,” said Hex. “There is no injustice in nature.”
Pet cared little about the philosophical debate, but Hex’s scorn for the law suddenly placed a dangerous idea in his head. He walked back toward the two sun-dragons.
“Hexilizan—” he started.
“Call me Hex,” the sun-dragon said. “It’s what my friends call me.”
“Okay, Hex,” Pet continued. “Isn’t it a little suspicious that you show up talking about the unfairness of imprisonment on the very night that Blasphet escapes? Aren’t you his nephew?”
“Yes,” said Hex, swinging his head down to Pet’s level. He brought his jaws to within inches of Pet’s face, then said, calmly, “So’s Shan. What’s your point?”
Pet’s familiarity with sun-dragons meant he wasn’t easily intimidated by them. Still, with Hex’s carrion-scented breath washing over him, Pet somehow lost his train of thought.
“My brother had nothing to do with Blasphet’s escape,” Shandrazel said. His tone made it clear there would be no further speculation on this point.
Pet nodded. “Right.”
“Of course, it would be the fifth tongue,” Jandra muttered. All eyes turned to her as she stood, stretching her back. Jandra, standing next to the captive, said, “I’m going to wake her. I guess we should tie her up first?”
“I’m pretty good at that,” Pet said, glad that another of his talents would be of use.
Jandra crouched next to Pet as he wrapped the slumbering assassin in the oversized towel. She reached out to touch the white nappy fabric, wiping away the blood and saliva that coated her fingers after her molecular surgery on the girl’s tongue. She was startled by the texture of the cloth, the way the ridges of her fingers ran against the weave. Suddenly, she was intensely aware of her own skin, of the beads of sweat that coated her face and neck, and of the way her clothes clung to her body. She felt every tiny bump in the bricks beneath her knees. Her every nerve cell became a hundred times more sensitive. What was the helmet doing to her now? She closed her eyes, trying to regain control. Now it felt as if her skin was one giant eye that could see in all directions, but instead of perceiving light it sensed heat. The two sun-dragons at her back glowed like furnaces. Pet emitted a torch-like warmth as his muscular body rolled the assassin in the towel, mummifying her. Jandra opened her eyes as he ripped the loose end of the towel into long strips, then used those strips to tie the assassin in a tidy bundle.
As he worked, she stared at his bare torso. The well-defined muscles in his shoulders clenched and coiled as he worked. Her eyes wandered down his long arms to his perfectly formed hands, the fingers so graceful yet powerful in their movements.
“Done,” said Pet. “She won’t get out of that.”
“You’re Vendevorex’s apprentice aren’t you?” Hex asked. “Jandra, I believe?”
“Yes,” Jandra said, standing to face the sun-dragon. Hex bore a family resemblance to Shandrazel, the same vivid red coloring of his scales fading to orange and yellow tips. Hex’s eyes were a dark green, almost black, similar in shade to the ivy that covered the castle’s rocky walls, while Shandrazel’s were a brighter emerald. The deep wrinkles around Hex’s eyes made it apparent that he was many years older than Shandrazel.
“I’ve heard of you,” said Hex. “It’s rumored you command the same supernatural powers as the wizard.”
“I won’t claim to be his equal,” said Jandra. “Still, I’m improving. I’m flattered you’ve heard of me. I’m a little embarrassed I hadn’t heard of you.”
“You aren’t the one who should be embarrassed,” said Shandrazel, apologetically. “Our father was a strict adherent to the old ways. After Hex lost the contest, my father never spoke of him again. It’s my father who deserves the shame here.”
Androkom said, “We can discuss family history later. Every second counts if we hope to find Blasphet. Wake the prisoner.”
Jandra didn’t like the new high biologian. She found him overly bossy. Still, he was right. There was no point in putting this off.
“How will you wake her?” asked Hex. “With magic? It’s said that you command the elements.”
“I’ll command an element, all right,” Jandra said, walking toward the bath. She reached down and picked up a wooden bucket that sat at the edge. It was already full of water. She headed back to the bound girl. “Call it magic if you want.”
She upended the bucket, aiming the deluge at the girl’s shaved head. The prisoner coughed and sputtered in the aftermath. Her eyes jerked open.
“Where am—” The girl’s face went pale, as if she were terrified by the sound of her own voice. She struggled within her cotton cocoon. Her wide eyes darted around the room.
“That’s right. You can talk,” said Jandra. “Where’s Blasphet?”
“I’m a Sister of the Serpent!” the girl screeched, arching her back as she strained against her bonds. “I’ll kill you all!”
“Sister,” said Jandra, putting her foot on the girl’s belly and forcing her back down, “You’re not killing anybody tonight. You may as well relax and answer our questions.”
The girl grew quiet, glaring at Jandra. She stuck out her tongue defiantly. Then with a sudden jerk of her jaw, she bit an inch from the tip. Tears filled her eyes as she rocked her head back and forth, blood speckling her cheeks.
“Oh for the love of…” Jandra grumbled, picking up the tongue. “I can keep sticking this thing on all night.” Although, in truth, she wasn’t looking forward to putting her fingers near the girl’s mouth with her awake.
“Dissolve her teeth,” said Androkom.
“What?” said Jandra. “No!”
“Why is the idea so repellant?” asked Androkom. “This human is willing to maim herself. If you dissolve her teeth she won’t bite off her tongue again.
“I know,” said Jandra. “But…”
“It would be torture to maim a captured foe,” said Pet. She was surprised by his intervention. Pet had his shoulders pulled back and his head held high. He could look like a confident leader when the role demanded it. “Stand your gro
und, Jandra. I was a victim of Albekizan’s torture. The day when helpless humans suffer beneath the talons of dragons must be at an end.”
“She wouldn’t be suffering beneath the talons of a dragon,” said Androkom, frustrated to be explaining the obvious. “Jandra’s human.”
“It’s you who gave the command,” said Pet. Jandra wondered why Pet was so willing to talk back to Androkom. Was he trying to impress her?
“No one is giving anyone commands but me,” Shandrazel said. “I may wish to be the king who brings an end to kings, but, at this moment, I am king. Jandra, I respect your aversion to hurting another. Still, the information this woman possesses is of utmost value. Perhaps losing her teeth will make her more cooperative. Will you reconsider?”
“No!” said Pet.
Jandra was a little annoyed he spoke for her. “No,” she said. “I have no qualms about using my powers in self defense, but this is too much to ask.”
“This is what I was talking about,” Hex said, in a scolding tone directed at Shandrazel. “King for barely a week and already you would issue a command to torture. What degree of physical pain will you need to inflict to break the will of a fanatic who bites off her own tongue?”
“We shouldn’t be discussing this with her listening,” said Androkom.
“Agreed,” said Shandrazel. He nodded toward the small army of guards that had by now gathered in the courtyard. “Take her to the dungeons. Secure her tightly. I’ll be down in the morning with… further orders.”
Pet leaned close to Jandra. “I’m proud of you,” he said.
“I’m a little surprised by you,” she whispered. “I didn’t expect you to stand up to Shandrazel.”
He placed a hand on her shoulder and drew his lips closer to her ear as he whispered back, “I’m a little surprised myself. But, having been on the receiving end of torture, I honestly don’t want to see it inflicted on even my worst enemy.”
The warmth of his hand seemed to fill her entire body. She found her eyes drawn to his lips, and the pearly white teeth that gleamed behind them. Propelled by instincts she didn’t quite understand, she leaned into him. He wrapped his arms around her in a strong hug. Her cheek was pressed against his bare shoulder. He stank of fish, but beneath that was a musky aroma, the smell of his sweat. It took all her power to resist sticking out her tongue to taste him. What was happening to her?
