Dragon Chameleon: Episodes 5-8

by Wilson, Sarah K. L.

  “We gather for justice,” he intoned.

  “Justice,” the people agreed, moving their two fingers to stand up in front of their noses as if they were pretending to have beaks.

  Go ahead, people, just think the thoughts fed to you. They were as bad as yudazgoats. As bad as Zyla with her hands clenched in her skirts looking taut as a bowstring as she waited for Bataar to acknowledge her. Faugh! She could keep on waiting.

  “We gather to ask the Ko’tor’kaen - the Seat of Judgment – to rule over us. To give justice,” Gamni said.

  “Justice.”

  Woah. Ummm ... rule? That weird thing was going to somehow make a judgment about me? Oh no, no, no. Tor Winespring did not like this turn of events. Here’s the thing, if a guy is going to be judged, its better if it’s by another human. Objects weren’t just. They were just inhuman. By definition. I’d had quite enough inhumanity for one lifetime.

  There you are!

  My eyes widened as a voice filled my mind. It wasn’t Saboraak. It was a voice I hadn’t heard in a long time.

  Kyrowat?

  I’ve been searching everywhere for your mind. It helped that you thought your name so clearly.

  Ha! My internal monologue was finally worth something.

  Zin and I finally drew up the last few paces away from the intoning Exalted. As I came to a halt, I saw from the corner of my eye that she was following our plan. She slipped into the crowd, quietly weaving toward Zyla.

  I clenched my jaw. Zyla was one thing. Being that close to Shabren and Apeq was another. But we had to take the risk. We had to gamble.

  Are you close, Kyrowat? I could use your help.

  In a tight spot, boy?

  Clearly. I was here to confront Apeq and he had a lot more people on his side than I did – seeing as I had two and they were twin girls with no power beyond their clever minds.

  A third Exalted – this one a woman in a dress marked with a Tanager stepped forward. Her voice was surprisingly resonant for a woman of her years and she towered over the men.

  “The Judgment of the Ko’tor’kaen will be accepted by all as final,” she proclaimed in a reedy voice.

  “Final,” the people intoned, raising a second hand with two fingers raised and then crossing both arms over their chests.

  “The challengers will submit to the ruling.”

  “Submit,” the crowd boomed.

  Oh boy, I didn’t like the sound of that. Where were Kyrowat and Hubric in all this? Were they close?

  Your mind does not feel far. I could almost hear the growl in his voice.

  Then where are you?

  Hanging around. There was a tinge of irony to the thought.

  “Do the challengers wish to speak?” the Exalted of House Tanager asked.

  All eyes turned to me. I shook my head. If I spoke so much as a word I’d be found out – by Apeq at the very least. Shabren and Zyla also knew my voice. I saw Zin leaning close to Zyla, whispering in her ear while the crowd was distracted by the ceremony. Zyla kept her eyes straight ahead, her face blank, and her arms crossed over her chest like everyone else. The perfect Exalted of Ko’Koren.

  Apeq raised an arm over his head in a gesture that looked oddly triumphant, two fingers still extended. The woman stepped back and he stepped forward to address the crowd.

  If Hubric and Kyrowat could get here before the challenge started, I could scoop the girls up and we could fly to freedom. Could they get here in time?

  Do you know a place called the Bright Redemption?

  Far too well.

  Send Saboraak to us there and then we will come to you.

  Wait. Sudden realization sunk through me like a stone through water. They were captives, weren’t they? Captives who were literally ‘hanging around.’ Kyrowat?

  It’s embarrassing, but it seems, we need your help.

  And there was no Saboraak to help. And I was stuck here for the duration of the challenge. Alone.

  Not alone. I’m here. Sort of.

  What did Hubric think I should do?

  Who knows. He’s out cold. Still alive, I think.

  I swallowed against the heavy lump in my throat. The stakes just got higher. Bataar and Saboraak. Hubric and Kyrowat. Everyone needed my help and needed it now. And I was up here in a vice.

  Apeq cleared his throat. “You’ve heard my speech before. I will not bore you with many words, brothers and sisters, simply remind you what I fight for today. Our cities depend on magic. Without it, we will crumble and fade from the earth before the next generation is born.

  “But, our magic fades. Our chance at recovering what little magic is left in the world is a small one. A small one made impossible by our neighbors to the south who hoard their resources against us. They taunt us with what they still have and what we have lost.

  “Ko’Torenth is not a land to be mocked. We are no laughingstock. We will surge south and take what is rightfully ours. We will take from the Dominion the dragons who once belonged to our ancestors – the dragons they have hoarded for far too long. We will resurge and rise from the dust of magic like a dragon erupting from its egg. Strong. New. Powerful.

  “But this cannot be done without unity. Without the Ko of the four families united. And this challenger wears Ko. He dares to hold what our Exalted families require to exercise our power. Only one man or woman may wear a Ko at one time. Unless this man gives his up, one of our Exalted families will remain bereft and our nation weaker for their loss. This cannot be allowed to happen.

  “Worse. He challenges my plan and my authority to lead you. If he prevails today, all is lost.

  “And so, with regret, I bring him before the Seat of Judgment. And as our ancestors were judged by the Ko’tor’kaen, laid bare, and marked by judgment, so I ask the seat to do so now. We have never needed to guess who was deemed worthy by the Ko’tor’kaen before, and we need not worry now. Judgment will be swift. And then our Exalted may take their rightful place.

  “May the heart of the hero remain.”

  The people echoed him, but not in a dull chant this time. Their call seemed to roar over the city below. They thrust their hands in the air in double-handed two-fingered salutes, just like Apeq’s as they called out the response.

  “The heart of the hero!”

  “Only the hero will stand,” Apeq bellowed, arms above his head.

  “The Hero!” This time the roar reverberated painfully through my ears. I flinched, closing my eyes as if that could stop up my ears.

  The Exalted all stepped forward at once. I hoped they couldn’t see how badly I was sweating under this head-wrap.

  Saboraak, if I get out of this, you will owe me so big! I felt a twang in my heart at her name. Please be okay, Saboraak!

  Together, the Exalted spoke in unison. “Let it begin.”

  Chapter Nine

  ON EITHER SIDE OF APEQ, the Exalted stepped forward in pairs. It was strange to see such well-dressed people marching almost like soldiers, their faces as straight as their backs. They lifted Apeq off his feet, carrying him in the basket of their arms while he raised his arms above his head like a hero. They marched at a steady pace toward the Ko’tor’kaen.

  I gritted my teeth as another set of the Exalted marched toward me. Those blank faces could make a stone nervous. Hopefully, they wouldn’t feel the daggers sticking out of my boots or the waist of my loose pants. I hadn’t tucked any in my sleeves. I was guessing that they’d want to see those Ko and if I had to expose them, then the arm sheaths would be exposed, too. They were tucked neatly in the small bundle that Zin carried.

  The Exalted linked arms and scooped me up without so much as a word or a request for permission. I grunted, feeling strangely like a pig going to the butchers.

  I glanced toward Zin, over the heads of the crowd. Had she seen the humiliating way I was being carried?

  She and Zyla were huddled together, but every now and then Zyla’s eyes turned to me and the look in them was unreadable. Well, now she kn
ew I wasn’t Bataar. Hopefully, she’d survive the disappointment. I tried not to let my own disappointment affect me. There’s nothing like being kissed by a girl only to find out she prefers someone else.

  Girls. They were the worst. Worse even than magic ceremonies and weird, chanting crowds.

  Those two girls had better get through this safe or I’d ... I’d ... I’d tell them how disappointed I was, that’s what!

  The hands beneath me shifted as the men and women carrying me stepped onto the bridge arm leading to the platform – the Seat of Judgment. They couldn’t have done this anywhere else? Like maybe inside a warm building?

  I could feel sweat beading along my hairline despite the cold. But I needed to let them go through with it. Anything else would put those girls at risk and break my promise to Saboraak.

  Alright, platform. Do your worst.

  I wondered, suddenly, what had happened to my spider when the other Ko’tor’kaen snatched it away. Maybe it belonged to one of the Exalted Houses now – or maybe it was still there, stuck to the apex of the arches as if by magic.

  I felt – oddly – as if I had done this before. Was it really so different from when I had run out onto a platform just like this fleeing Shabren only days ago? Really so different from when I leapt from that platform into the air below? Well, this time I didn’t dare do that again. There would be no dragon friend to make my gamble pay off.

  Apeq arrived at the center first and I gaped as they pushed him against one of the intersecting arches and manacled his wrists and ankles to the arch so that he was suspended in the air looking over the Ko’tor’kaen platform.

  Skies and stars! If they thought – !

  But it was too late. The Exalted carrying me were already pushing me up against another arm of the arches, facing Apeq across the gap. I hadn’t signed up for this!

  I struggled against them, but too many hands held me in place. My breath burst out in puffs of steam and frustration like a small dragon. Four of them to one of me. Eight strong hands to my one will. I lost so quickly that fighting at all was a waste of time.

  They manacled me to the arch, shoving my sleeves down so that the Ko tattooed on them gleamed in the moonlight. And I was left hanging from the arm of the arch like a fool, my forearms freezing in the cold mountain air.

  On the walkway off to the side of us, the spectators gasped at my gleaming Ko.

  Across from me, Apeq’s arms were also bare, Ko in the pattern of leaping flames shimmering across his skin.

  So.

  He did have them. Whatever that meant in this time, at this place, we were equally matched.

  I swallowed and looked across at him, meeting his gaze, clenching my jaw at his knowing smile. He couldn’t know. He couldn’t possibly realize that I was taking Bataar’s place.

  Something whooshed overhead and I strained to look above me. That couldn’t have been a dragon, could it? Maybe one of Saboraak’s doomed friends had stayed to try to save her. Maybe –

  My words caught in my throat as I realized that the shadow I saw above me was certainly no dragon.

  I squinted, trying to get a better look at its silhouette as it flew across the light of the rising moon.

  On the arms of the platform, a person stood on each bridge, arms raised.

  “We dedicate these two Ko-bearers to the testing. Test them, Ko’tor’kaen! Sift them and judge which of these two should rule us!” the Exalted of House Tanagers said.

  She was standing on the bridge between the Ko’tor’kaen and the boardwalks. All the Exalted had moved off the platform as if to keep it clear for the test.

  What a terrible way to choose a ruler – just ask an inanimate object what it thinks. If I were building a culture, this isn’t how I’d do it.

  “Tell us,” the Exalted of House Ye’kut intoned. “Which of them has the purest heart!”

  Well, that wouldn’t be me. Although I was up against Apeq, so it might be a toss-up.

  “Tell us,” the Exalted of House Gamni said. “Which has the courage of a crag cat!”

  That might be me. I was definitely more courageous than Apeq who hid behind kidnapped victims and had servants do his bidding.

  I looked out across the crowd and froze. Was that Karema in the crowd? I saw her tight movements and stern face angling through the crowd purposefully. She was edging closer to Zin and Zyla. Did she see them? Skies and stars, don’t let her see them!

  “Tell us,” the first woman spoke again. “Which man is honorable and will keep his promises.”

  Yeah, well no one had ever accused me of being honorable. Maybe Bataar should have been here for this test. As much as he irritated me, he was an honorable sort.

  Karema and Shabren locked eyes in the crowd and my belly swirled like it was being mixed with a spoon. What were they planning? How had they crept into the high society of Ko’Koren to plan it?

  I needed to get down from this thing and back to Zin before they made a move against her.

  The three intoning Exalted spoke in unison as the crowd watched with rapt attention: “Tell us which of these will lead us to glory for Ko’Torenth!”

  Well, that sure as Skies and Stars wouldn’t be me. If only they’d just get on with it, so I could fail their test and get the girls out of here. But I was supposed to want to succeed, right? To want to stop a war?

  I looked up into the black sky as I wished for their safety, almost praying in my worry for them. If only I were a better man, the kind who could save girls and stop wars. The kind who could stand up here and be certain he’d win because he was just that kind of great guy.

  Something in the sky was glowing red, a pinprick of light against a black infinity.

  Chapter Ten

  “BEGIN!” THE CHANTING people said together, and then in unison, the Exalted on the bridges grabbed the edges of the closest arches with both hands. I felt something pulsing and almost painful surround my wrists and ankles as the manacles tightened. Light filled the platform and shot up along the intersecting arches to halo the structure in crackling blue light.

  I felt a moment of panic, my chest tightening and my breath growing quicker as something like a cold tentacle seemed to be writhing through the inside of me, like the arm of something searching and flipping through me looking for answers. I squirmed at the mental image.

  Was it the arches? Were they reaching inside me to find answers to those questions the Exalted had asked?

  And then I couldn’t hold a thought in place as my mind was suddenly overwhelmed by a thousand sensations.

  I was Tor Winespring, living in Vanika, only my mother hadn’t died, and we lived together. I worked for the city guard and fought for Vanika when the Dusk Covenant attacked the city. I died saving a young mother and her child – a pair who lived on the streets just as I would have if my mother hadn’t found that job at the chandler and saved us both. I felt the pain and then the cold as the life leaked out of me and then I was gasping in the grasp of the tentacles again.

  What was that? It had felt so real. Not like a story told me, but like I had actually lived a full lifetime in the blink of an eye. I could still feel the pain of dying in the attack, still feel the panic of not being able to save my guardsmen as they died around me. Was I this Tor hanging from a strange device or the other Tor living the life I’d so often wished I’d had?

  I blinked against the confusion and pain of being ripped from one life into another and then back again. Across from me, Apeq’s eyes were wide and his mouth open. Maybe the life he was living wasn’t quite so nice.

  I didn’t have time to feel sympathy – even if I was inclined to.

  The tentacle gripped me harder, squeezing me into another life. I blinked as memories of things I’d never done, people I’d never known flooded through me. I was Tor Winespring, fabled Dragon Rider, but I wasn’t riding Saboraak. I’d never met Hubric, never been recruited by him. I’d gone to Dragon School on my own and survived the perils of training there. I’d chosen a red d
ragon – a gnarled, proud creature with a powerful set of jaws. We were fighting the Ko’Torenth invasion together on the northern border of the Dominion. I felt the pride of that, and the tempering of years of training. Deep affection soared through me for my dragon and my fellow Dragon Riders. And with it came a loyalty so deep, a commitment so strong to the health of the Dominion that it dwarfed any feelings I’d had in my past life. I’d had another life? Why did I think that?

  “Steady, riders!” my captain shouted as we shivered in the bracing wind. “Wait for the signal.”

  Before us, thousands of dark figures swarmed across the earth. Golems, I knew. Strange creatures of enchantment devised by the foreigners of Ko’Torenth. We were the last defense between them and our Dominion. I’d watched as they trampled a farmer’s field an hour ago. Watched them mow down fields of crops, a home, livestock, all with neither compassion nor cruelty, just the single-focus of a thing that neither was alive nor dead.

  Flying golems swarmed over their creeping army, fish-like in shape, defying all understanding. We’d tried to puzzle out how they could fly at all. “Magic” was the only answer and it was not at all satisfying. Perhaps a Magika would understand better. For now, we need only beat them back.

  The signal came, and we charged forward. Ieerkan – my glorious Red dragon – flamed confidently as wave upon wave of black creatures washed forward. We were holding our own, snatching the creeping creatures from the earth and dashing them to the ground – and then suddenly we weren’t. A flying golem soared past, it’s jaws opening to clamp down on Ieerkan’s wing.

  He screamed in pain jerking under me so hard that I lost my grip on the saddle and reins, the world whirling beneath me. We were spinning through the air like a kite that hit a tree. My gaze sought for allies – for help of any kind, but there wasn’t a figure alive on the ground or in the air that wasn’t the black of the golems.

  Across the landscape, golems rushed over the heaps and mounds of fallen dragons and riders. My breath gusted out as I drew my sword, ready to fight for Ieerkan.

  I was still slashing and thrusting, ignoring my fears. I must not fail. The Dominion was counting on me. Dozens of flying creations swarmed us until all I saw was black figures and gaping mouths. And then the ripping began. First my leathers, then my skin, then my very life – ripped to a thousand pieces.