Might of the Dragon

by Jessica Drake

  Jallis shook his head. “You’ve both been through quite an ordeal,” he said, looking quite guilty now. “I’ve felt terrible, watching Lessie suffer being chained up these past weeks, and for no good reason.”

  “Which is exactly why we didn’t come back,” I said flatly. “Because we knew we weren’t going to receive fair treatment. Has Lord Tavarian made it back to the mainland?”

  “If he has, I haven’t heard of it yet.”

  I sighed. “Then there is no one to corroborate my version of events, which means I’ll be found guilty. What’s going to happen to me if you bring me back and I’m convicted?”

  Jallis winced. “Normally, you would be executed if you were found guilty. But because you’re a dragon rider, the worst they can do is give you life in prison. However,” he added before I could protest, “if you can prove your innocence, you’ll be fine. I convinced the colonel to allow me to try to get you to return voluntarily, and if you do, it would go a long way toward showing the court that you didn’t actually desert.”

  I scowled. “I’m not sure that’s going to matter to her.”

  “Come on, Zara,” Jallis pleaded, desperation edging his voice. “Don’t make yourself an enemy of the state. If you come back with me, I can tell the others your story, and they’ll be forced to wait for Tavarian to return before they make any decisions. He is the head of your house, after all, and as a council member his word carries weight. We’ll sort things out.” He grasped my hand. “I know things have been rough between us, but I’m still your friend. I’ll do whatever I can to help you.”

  Tears threatened the corners of my eyes at the warmth in Jallis’s words, and I was tempted to wrap them around me like a comforting blanket. “What about Lessie?” I demanded instead. “Did she ever make it back to camp? She tried to come and retrieve me yesterday but almost got ambushed by the dragons tailing her.”

  “Not as far as I know,” Jallis said, his expression growing dark again. “I know Lessie is acting out of loyalty to you, but the fact that she’s flying around all alone during wartime is very dangerous for her. You owe it to her to come back to camp, where at least the two of you will be safe.”

  Safe. I was certain Lessie would argue whether being chained up at camp was truly “safe.” “I was in more danger when I was sent out on patrol with incompetent superiors,” I pointed out. And yet being a fugitive in wartime, hunted by both sides, would be terrible for both of us. “But fine,” I said on a sigh. “I’ll come back with you.” A bad feeling twisted in my gut at the words, but what else could I do? I didn’t want to stay here with Salcombe either, I reminded myself.

  “Good.” Jallis stood up and offered me a hand. “Let’s go.”

  But before we could take more than two steps, a bevy of city guards entered the building, dressed in colorful historic uniforms and brass helmets. Salcombe walked straight toward them, his expression set in lines of grim determination.

  “Mr. Trentiano,” the lead guard, a lieutenant, greeted him brusquely. “Where is this troublemaker?”

  Salcombe turned and pointed toward Jallis. “That man there is an Elantian officer,” he said in strident tones. “I recognize him from my time in Zuar City. He has doubtless been sent here as a spy, here to cause mischief and throw Dardil’s neutrality into question. You must arrest him immediately!”

  Jallis stiffened, and I immediately clenched my hand around my weapon as they surrounded us, ready to fight if necessary. “Is this true?” the lieutenant demanded. “Where are your papers, and what is your business here?”

  “My business?” Jallis asked, then flicked his hand through the air. A smoke bomb went off, filling the space with thick black smog. “Come on, Zara!” He grabbed my arm and shouldered his way through the officers, barreling toward the door.

  But I wasn’t nearly as nimble as Jallis, and I almost immediately tripped over my skirts. Jallis’s fingers slipped through my hand as I tumbled to the ground, and a pair of strong arms squeezed around my midsection. “No!” I screamed, thrashing against the officer. I tried to go for my weapons, but the man held me too tightly, and my skirts got in the way yet again. I hated this blasted garment so much!

  “I’m sorry, Zara!” Jallis yelled, his voice faint. I sagged against the guard’s grip, knowing he was already beyond their reach, and therefore mine.

  I was alone again.

  Gradually, the smoke cleared from the lobby, restoring sight to everyone. The guard didn’t release his grip on me, and I decided not to go for my weapons. Killing one of the guards would give me a one-way trip to the gallows, and there was no way I was getting out of here now, not with all these witnesses.

  “You may unhand my wife,” Salcombe said calmly, heading toward me. “She is not a spy, like the other.”

  “Are you certain?” the head guard asked, and the one holding me made no move to let go. “She seemed to be in league with him.”

  “My wife is…gullible,” Salcombe said, his lip curling. “She was taken in by the young soldier’s charms. But she is no spy, and as she is my wife, I would prefer to be allowed to deal with her disloyalty myself.”

  Rage filled me at Salcombe’s condescending tone, so potent that I actually vibrated with it. The guard restraining me tightened his grip, but the head guard gave him a look that very clearly said stay out of this.

  “Very well,” he told Salcombe, then turned to the guard. “Let her go.”

  The city guard released me, and I made a break for the exit, pumping my arms and legs as fast as I could. I nearly made it to the doors before Salcombe appeared in front of me in a blur, far faster than any human could manage. He slapped his hand on my forearm, and I felt the prick of a needle. My brain immediately went fuzzy, and I glanced down to see the poison ring on his hand.

  “I had a feeling you’d try something,” he said, his voice distorted as my vision darkened around the edges. “So I came prepared.”

  The world slid sideways, and my enemy caught me right before I blacked out.

  10

  When I came to, I was back in the carriage, lying on my side on the bench. Groaning, I tried to lift my hands to my throbbing temple, but they were tied behind my back, the rope so tight that my hands had gone numb while I was out. Panic spiked in my blood, and my eyes flew open to find Trolbos sitting across from me. An ugly grin spread across his thuggish face as he saw I was awake.

  “Finally come back to us now, have you, bitch?” he sneered. “I knew you couldn’t be trusted. It was only a matter of time before you showed your true colors.”

  “Enough, Trolbos,” Salcombe said, his voice like ice. “I am not pleased with you, either. Zara’s escape attempt might have been successful if I hadn’t stopped her at the door.” The implication that Trolbos was at fault was crystal clear.

  Trolbos set his jaw, his eyes blazing with hatred. “I’m sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.”

  “No, it won’t,” Salcombe said softly. He’d never once turned to look at us, his eyes trained on the landscape. Night had fallen, and though the sky was still cloudy, it was clear enough to allow the moon to illuminate the fields rolling past us. Opening my senses, I immediately knew that we were nearing the estate. The heart’s distinctive gong sounded in my head, tugging at my soul. The treasure hunter in me wanted to find it, wanted to dig it up and finally hold it in my hands. Despite coming within spitting distance of two different pieces, I’d never actually seen one in the flesh.

  But the heart wasn’t the only thing close by, I realized. Lessie was near too—only a few miles away. “Zara,” she said urgently. “Are you all right? I’ve been trying to reach you!”

  “Salcombe drugged me. I just woke up,” I said, my mental voice groggy. Whatever sleeping serum he’d injected in me had packed quite the punch—part of me wanted to close my eyes again and drift into that deep, dark sleep. “We’re very close to a piece of the dragon god’s heart, Lessie.” I sent her a mental image of the estate.

  “I’ll
meet you there,” Lessie said. “We’ll take out Salcombe and his lackeys before they dig up the heart.”

  Hope surged in my chest, but I didn’t allow myself to be lulled into a false sense of security—there were all kinds of things that could go wrong. “This is foolish,” I said to Salcombe, trying to appeal to his sense of reason. “We’re breaking into an occupied estate. How are you going to get in, dig up the heart, and get out without being spotted? You can’t hope to drug everyone into a stupor like you did when we broke into that townhouse in Zallabar.”

  “Stop asking questions,” Salcombe ordered. “Your only concern is to locate the heart. You are not in charge of the logistics.”

  “No, but I’ll still be hanged if we’re caught.”

  “And you’ll be killed if you continue to refuse to cooperate.” Rage distorted Salcombe’s face as he gripped my chin hard enough to bruise. The madness had taken him fully, and my throat closed with fear. “Have I made myself clear?”

  I spat in his face.

  The resulting slap rattled my teeth, pain blooming on my cheek. Tears smarting, I collapsed back against the bench, real fear seeping into my bones. “Hurry, Lessie,” I called desperately, wriggling my hands against the rope as surreptitiously as I could manage. Trolbos had tied his knots very well, but if I kept at it, perhaps I could loosen them enough to get free.

  If only I could get to my knives, I thought morosely. If I ever got out of this, I wasn’t going to make this mistake again. I’d take a leaf from Trolbos’s book and get knives I could hide in the toes of my boots or against the insides of my forearms.

  The carriage rolled to a stop outside the estate, and this time, Salcombe had it drive right up to the gates. At first, I wondered how he’d managed to convince a driver to commit a burglary with him, but when Trolbos marched me out of the carriage, still tied up, I saw Hickam on the driver’s bench. For a moment, I was afraid he’d come with us, and I’d have to contend with three men, but to my relief, he stayed behind.

  “Not a sound,” Salcombe warned as he picked the lock on the iron gates. There was a click as the bolt slid free, and Trolbos pushed it open easily, as if it weighed nothing. “If you try to alert anyone to our presence, I will have Trolbos kill them.”

  Shit. That had been next on my list of things—to scream at the top of my voice so the residents would come out and investigate. But aside from having superhuman strength, Salcombe and Trolbos were both very well trained. Trolbos had enough knives on him to take out five men before they were close enough to do any damage. If I thought alerting the house would actually stop Salcombe from digging up the heart, I would have done it, but there was no point in needlessly risking these poor people’s lives.

  “In any case,” Salcombe said pleasantly as we walked through the open gate, as though we were merely going on a night time stroll, “we may get lucky and find that the piece of heart is in the grounds, which means there will be no need to go into the house. Zara, do you sense anything?”

  I turned up the volume on my treasure sense, focusing on the heart. It was hidden beneath an old sundial in the gardens, around the back of the house. “I do sense it,” I lied to Salcombe, “but the call is diffused, not easy to pinpoint. The mages who hid it must have sealed it in a box that is scrambling the location.”

  Salcombe scowled. “I do not believe you,” he said, and signaled with his hand. Trolbos shifted, and I stilled at the feel of cold, sharp steel at my windpipe. “Try again, Zara.”

  Frantic, I scanned the grounds for a believable place that would stall Salcombe until Lessie could arrive. “T-try there,” I stammered, jerking my head toward a small fish pond some distance from the house. “Beneath the water.”

  “If it is not there, I will order Trolbos to cut off your right hand,” Salcombe said. He turned away, striding toward the pond.

  Spikes of fear drove themselves into my heart as Trolbos marched toward the pond. In truth, there was something valuable buried in the pond—a large sapphire brooch—so I might be able to pass it off as a false alarm. But Salcombe was fully immersed in the dragon god’s madness—he might cut off my hand anyway, just to make a point as he had with those guards.

  The three of us waded into the water together, and I shivered as the cold liquid sluiced past my knees, nearly to my hips. “Well?” Salcombe demanded. “Anything?”

  “Over here.” I led them to the left, where I sensed the sapphire, and pointed with my nose. “Dig there.”

  Salcombe took my arm and Trolbos bent down, digging through the mud with his bare hands. His eyes widened in triumph as he came across something. “Found it!”

  “Give it to me!” Salcombe ordered as Trolbos came up with a small, half-rotted wooden box. He released me to snatch it from him, and I immediately stepped back, out of range. “Lessie?” I called, my blood pounding in my ears. “Where are you?” She should have been here by now, but she still felt like she was at least a mile away.

  “Sorry,” she said, and I could sense her stress and fear. “I was almost there, but something didn’t feel right, so I doubled back. I’m coming in now, from a different direction. Hang on, Zara!”

  I took another step back as Salcombe opened the box, revealing the large sapphire brooch inside. Trolbos swore loudly, swinging around to face me. “You lied!” he roared.

  “I didn’t!” I cried, backpedaling out of the pond. The water had helped me loosen the ropes enough to slip my hands free, and I reached into my sodden skirts for my dragon blade. “I told you something was messing with my senses. Please, let me concentrate!”

  “Quiet, both of you!” Salcombe snapped as a dog started barking, roused by our shouts. Trolbos immediately shut his mouth, and I backed toward the trees, hoping to melt into the darkness.

  A door opened, and the dog’s shrill barks grew louder as he raced toward our location. To my disappointment, he was a small beast, only a little larger than a house cat, and certainly no threat to either Salcombe or Trolbos.

  “Sammie!” a childlike voice yelled, and my stomach dropped as a little boy, no more than six years old, rushed out of the house.

  “Corbin, wait!” His mother was right behind him, along with a boy of fifteen, all still in their night clothes. The mother held a torch in one hand, the youth a sword, but both stopped short as Trolbos darted from the water, far faster than a man of his bulk had any right to move, and snatched up the child.

  “Mama!” the boy wailed as Trolbos pressed a knife to his little throat.

  “Stop right where you are and move no farther,” Salcombe said in a soft, deadly voice. He glided from the water like a phantom, his cold gaze trained on me. In the background, the dog continued to bark, not even remotely intimidated by the threat. “And you will tell me where the piece of heart is, now. Or the boy will die.”

  “I won’t tell you anything unless you let him go,” I said stubbornly, but Trolbos dug the very tip of the knife in. The delight on Trolbos’s face as a thin rivulet of blood spilled down the boy’s chest was a monstrous thing to behold, and fear gripped my heart in a vise as the mother began to wail.

  “No, no, not my Corbin!” She lunged for her child, but the older son held her back, his pale face twisted with both fury and terror. “Please, don’t hurt my child!” The dog’s barking grew even more ferocious, and he darted forward, nipping at Trolbos’s heels. Without glancing down, Trolbos booted the animal with his foot, and the boy started crying in earnest as the dog landed hard at his mother’s feet, whimpering in pain.

  “All right, all right!” I shouted, unable to stomach the scene. I hated that I was giving in so easily, knowing what was at stake, but I couldn’t let Trolbos kill that child. “The sundial. It’s buried beneath the sundial in the back garden!”

  Salcombe smiled. “Excellent.” He turned to Trolbos. “The shovel, please.”

  Trolbos released the knife from the boy’s neck to unhook the shovel on his back, then tossed it to Salcombe. The boy’s mother whimpered when h
e replaced the knife with his hand instead, cradling the child’s neck almost tenderly. A vicious wave of anger ripped through me at the terror on that family’s face, and I would have drawn my dragon blade right then and there if not for the risk to the child’s life.

  “Stay back,” Salcombe ordered the mother and her older son. To Trolbos and me, he said, “Come.”

  Trolbos released the child, who immediately ran toward his mother. The woman sobbed as she embraced him, and bundled her family back into the house as I reluctantly followed Trolbos and Salcombe to the back garden. The sundial sat in the center of a small clearing, a ray of moonlight sparkling on the stone surface.

  “Show me exactly where,” Salcombe ordered.

  I found the spot, and Salcombe started digging. “Lessie,” I said urgently.

  “I know. Almost there.”

  I’d hoped that Lessie would arrive before Salcombe managed to get very far, but his superhuman speed and strength allowed him to dig much faster than I’d anticipated. Within minutes, he’d cleared a four-foot hole. “Here we are,” he said as his shovel struck against metal. “The moment of truth.”

  He ordered Trolbos to lift the box out of the hole. The box was pitch black, made of obsidian, with runes carved into the top and sides. Salcombe took the box from Trolbos and ran his hands over the surface, searching for a seam or latch or something with which to pry open the box, but there was nothing.

  “Put it on the ground,” Trolbos said. “I’ll smash it open.”

  “No.” Salcombe’s eyes were bright as he traced the runes. “These protection runes are very powerful. They will obliterate you if you try to open the box by force. It would seem that we need a mage who can undo the spell and get to the heart within.”