Those harpoons looked promising. What if she tried to harpoon the dragon like a great oilfish in the sea? Perhaps these men were for hire. Perhaps, they could even teach her how to do it.
“You aren’t welcome here!” the news caller yelled as the crowd turned toward the newcomers, leaning in.
Marielle scented the red of the mob beginning – the drive toward violence. She could feel it, electric in the air. One wrong word, one threatening action and people would die here. And where was the Watch? Where were they to stop this? She didn’t see a uniform or badge in sight. If Captain Ironarm had been here she would have scathed them with her judgment. There were no cowards in the Jingen City Watch.
Etienne caught her eye, quirking an eyebrow as if he expected her to do something here. But what? This was not her city. She had no authority here! But then, neither did he, and he’d still managed to help her last night. Maybe it didn’t matter that she didn’t have the right to act. Maybe all that mattered was that she tried to uphold the law anyway.
She pulled her Jingen City Watch badge from her belt purse, hoping it looked enough like local ones to fool the crowd. She held it above her head as she spoke, dodging a clump of thrown mud as she bellowed.
“City Watch!” Did they notice that she hadn’t said which city? “By order, you are to cease your attacks! Be about your business!”
Etienne nodded, not looking at her as he strode toward the woman with the sword, speaking quietly with her before pulling her after him. Her group followed him, hurrying toward the steps leading up to the next level of the Trade District.
“Return to your business citizens!” Marielle bellowed.
“No offense, officer!” the news caller said as Marielle hurried to follow Etienne. Where was he taking these strange visitors? Could they really be from the ships? “If I’d known it would disturb the peace, I would have stuck to happier news! Such as the good tidings that the son of the Lord of Yan will be delivering this year’s Dawnspell Quest in the speech in the Government District today!” She was almost out of earshot when he added, “Both he and his lovely bride to be, Amaryllis Zi’fen!”
She spun, stunned for a moment before asking, “Who?”
7: A Sister’s Price
Tamerlan
GULLS CALLING FROM outside the open window were the first things that Tamerlan heard. His eyes popped open and he sucked in a long breath, looking at the white plaster ceiling above him. He could have sworn he would wake up in a gondola on the water – or not at all. The last thing he remembered was bleeding and pain, slumping in the small boat while the world fell apart around him. But here he was, back in the Alchemist’s Guild.
It’s not a dream, pretty man.
He gasped at the sound of Lila Cherrylock’s voice in his mind. Oh no.
He sat up quickly – or tried to – moaning at the pain that shot through his shoulder at his sudden movement. He squeezed his eyes shut against it, shaking not just at the pain, but at the memories ricocheting through his mind. He shouldn’t still be alive. He should have died in the fall of Jingen.
But where would the fun be in that, pretty man?
And the voice. Had he smoked recently?
Oh, I don’t possess you. These are only echoes.
And behind her voice, he heard another voice rumbling, Dragons! Dragons loose in the skies again! They must be stopped.
He was going mad. That much was clear. He needed to get away from people before he caused any more harm. Flee the city. Go to the mountains, maybe.
Someone had left water and a thin broth on a stool beside the bed. He gulped it down hurriedly. He’d need the energy from it to get away.
He’d been stripped, but his clothing was hanging on pegs on the wall. And his old jute bag was in the corner. Perfect. That had a little of everything he might need.
Dressing was not as easy as he’d hoped. His arm hurt if he moved it at all – hurt so badly that he had to stop and wait to gather the energy to keep dressing. It took long minutes to slowly drag one article of clothing on at a time and he was breathless when he was finished.
Best to fight through pain. Pain is temporary. Inaction lasts forever.
That was Byron Bronzebow. He’d recognize those words even without the resonant voice behind them. There had to be some way to make the Legends all shut up.
I don’t think you can, pretty man. You’re in too deep now.
He sucked in a long breath between his teeth, shuffled his boots on, and grabbed the bag. If he was going insane, then he needed to leave. Now. Before he could ruin more lives.
The window was wide open and he paused, leaning on the ledge and looking out over the unfamiliar horizon. The ocean was very near – or at least an ocean bay, fading off into blue where the sea met sky and merged into one. And a river ran past, faster and clearer than the Alabastru had been. That must be the Cerulean. He’d read about it. Which made this place Xin – the island city. It was going to be harder to flee an island, but certainly not impossible.
Okay, time to climb down out the window.
With a hurt shoulder? You are mad!
Or he could just walk out the door. He leaned down over the ledge of the window, thinking about putting weight on his shoulder as he climbed down the wall.
You can’t even raise your hand above your waist. You definitely can’t climb. And you shouldn’t be escaping anyway. There are worse things in the world right now than your guilt.
He was getting used to Lila’s advice in his mind.
Go to the door and peek out.
Dragon! Ram moaned in the background, like it was the name of a lost love.
He peeked out into an empty room beyond.
Walk out but keep an eye out for movement.
There was the sound of footsteps nearby.
Go in the door to your left.
He slipped inside. It was a storeroom for herbs. Interesting. He could see some rare ones there, too. And was that flagleaf? He was tempted to grab a handful, but wasn’t he already in enough trouble without adding theft to the list? He fingered one of the leaves, feeling the pattern on it.
You’re nervous about stealing a handful of leaves? I once stole a ruby crown with four rubies in it the size of your eyeballs. And that’s nothing compared to what the Grandfather will steal if he gets loose.
I once stole the local Landhold’s underthings, Byron Bronzebow interjected, and hung them from the flagpole to embarrass him.
They were silenced by an ominous voice – one that hadn’t spoken yet. I’ve stolen the lives of thousands.
And just like that, Maid Chaos stole away all the fun. He dropped the leaf on the floor and snuck out, slowly making his way across the broad loft to the spiraling metal staircase.
He should be worried about the voices in his head. But wasn’t it normal to go mad after destroying everything you loved? He’d be crazy if he wasn’t going crazy ... right?
Voices drifted up from down below, hushed but brisk.
“Are you really going to let him stay here? Someone will want him dead and you might be killed in the attempt!”
“Who is mistress here, Danika? You or me? I will choose who stays with me as my guest, and I am not interested in your opinions on the matter.”
“Will it affect the work of The Whisper?”
“Of course not. We’ll just have to be more circumspect.”
He stepped onto the stairs, being sure to make more noise than necessary. If they knew he’d been eavesdropping, they would not be happy. Those sounded like secrets. Except for the part about people wanting him dead. That was just a given, seeing as he’d ruined an entire city and the lives of everyone in it.
The stairs were terrible. Each step a fresh agony that tore through him like being stabbed all over again.
“On your feet again, I see,” a woman said as he reached the floor of the store. That was definitely what this was. He’d been in and out of shops like these every day since becoming an apprentice.
/> “What is this place?” The glass jars held leaves and powders that he recognized. They were laid out in such tidy rows – and alphabetically. He felt the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile.
“Spellspinner’s Cures. And see? You’re cured.” The woman’s tone was dry and her dark hair was cropped at the shoulders in a blunt line. She wore a wide apron and worked at the counter, but Tamerlan thought it might be for show. Her cloth wiped the counter in a circle – not actually cleaning anything or polishing, just moving like she was pretending to work.
Quiet voices echoed from the back where storage was likely located under the loft, and two women in white aprons were carefully dusting glass jars behind her. No, she was definitely not just a spice merchant. He’d seen her type before. Guild Masters. She was powerful in her craft and she didn’t just tend counters – or sick people.
The noises of the men in the back weren’t casual with banter either. Even though he couldn’t hear the words, the tones were sharp with purpose.
He gave her his best smile. “It seems I owe you a debt.”
“It’s being paid,” she said with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Ah. She saw him as a pawn. But she didn’t think she needed him. She just needed the people she was using him against.
“How generous,” he said with a smile. “By who, if I may ask?”
“A girl with dark hair who either wants to marry you or kill you. I haven’t worked out which yet, but I have worked out how she’s going to pay.”
Marielle. Memories flashed through his mind of blurry glimpses of her face through fever dreams. Had she sat with him while he was ill? There was a comforting note to the memories.
“Well, a man’s debts are his own,” he said, smiling in a charming manner – or so he hoped. “Maybe there is a way I can settle the debt myself.”
She smirked, eyeing him up and down. “There would be in any other circumstances, but not this time, I’m afraid.”
She sounded almost regretful.
“And where can I find this dark-haired beauty?” he asked.
“Did I say she was beautiful?” Offense filled her dry tone. She sighed. “She’ll be back tonight. She’s staying here. Don’t wander too far. Your shoulder will bleed if you put in too much effort and I need to finish the job I started if I’m going to collect payment.”
She waved her fingers at him as if dismissing him.
“Where can I find the Libraries?” He wouldn’t really go to the libraries, but it was a good idea to pretend he was doing something innocent, and not just running away from humanity.
“This city is laid out almost exactly the same as Jingen, except with different rock shapes and different canals. All the cities of the five plains are. Did you know where the Libraries were there?” Her answer was irritated, like he was wasting her time.
“Thank you.”
He slipped out the door, hitching his bag on his shoulder and stepped into the streets of Xin. The bells were ringing the hour, a thousand peals of silver and brass in a cacophonous salute to Grandfather Timeless.
And doesn’t he crow about that during Dawnspell! A whole holiday dedicated just to him! Byron sounded bitter.
Along the street, someone was sweeping. Dawnwait. He’d forgotten about the beginning-of-year celebration. The cleaning and fast were always crowded out by the excitement and revelry of Summernight. This year, he’d give anything to be able to clean the memories of that festival from his mind. If only it were as easy as sweeping the streets or hauling out the trash that had accumulated over the year.
Where was that dragon now? Was it still tormenting Jingen, or had it moved on to something else? Was it about to appear in the sky here?
He tensed, looking up.
Dragon. Dragon. Dragon.
Thanks, Ram.
“News for a coin! News!” someone was calling from around a street corner, and someone must have paid him because his words were chipper and loud enough for Tamerlan to hear.
“Renli Di’sham, son of the Lord of Yan is betrothed to wed Amaryllis Zi’fen, daughter of Landhold Zi’fen. Together, they will announce this year’s Dawnspell Hunt in the Government District!”
He froze against the door of Spellspinner’s Cures, his first thought one of relief – she’d survived! And his second one full of trepidation. His sister was about to marry the Lord of Yan’s son. Had she agreed to that willingly? Perhaps, before he left Xin, he should pay a visit to the Government District. If she looked happy during the announcement, then he wouldn’t have to worry. If she did not ... if she gave any sign that she was being coerced ... well, he had ways to deal with that.
Yes! Lila said in his mind. Finally, some fun again.
It wouldn’t hurt anything just to check, would it?
8: Betrothed and Betrayed
Tamerlan
IT WAS HARDER TO HIKE through the city than Tamerlan had expected. His wound flared with constant bursts of pain and he had to stop frequently to lean against a pole or rail just to catch his breath and stop the spinning of his head. He gritted his teeth against the nearly constant pain alerts as he climbed a long flight of stairs from the Spice District to the Government District.
Xin was a much more vertical place than Jingen had been, an island of rock and sudden spikes of granite – maybe. Or maybe not. Because if Jingen had been built on a dragon sleeping in mud, then wasn’t Xin built on a dragon sleeping on the stone? Perhaps this stairway had been chiseled into rock-hard scales along the dragon’s rib cage. Perhaps that explained why the stairway seemed to nestle between two ripples in the rock. Were they jutting ribs?
He paused for a moment, catching his breath, and turned to look behind him. From this high perch, it was easy to see the Spice and Trade districts of Xin perched on either side of the locks of the main canal. The rooftops – red tiled and beautiful – rolled out as far as the surrounding walls where small figures strode, alert and ready. There were more figures than he would have expected. Perhaps the local army was growing with the new dragon threat to defend against. Past them, the Cerulean flowed, and past that were the rolling plains that ended on a horizon plumed with smoke.
The sight of the smoke stole his breath away. His fault. All his fault. He’d done it for Amaryllis – and then she hadn’t even needed his help. What hubris to think he was her only hope. What shocking pride.
But he’d saved Marielle. He barely knew her – only knew that she was dedicated to the law and that she’d showed compassion to him. Would he have risked everything for her if he’d known all along that she would be the victim of that ceremony? Probably not. And there was something wrong with a heart that would care enough to save a sister but turn a blind eye to the slaughter of a stranger, wasn’t there?
If it was right to save Amaryllis, then it was right to save Marielle. Or it should have been.
There had to be some other way to imprison dragons than to build cities on them and pour blood over them once a year. There had to be.
Dragon. Dragon. Dragon.
Ram’s constant mad ravings about dragons were rubbing off. Tamerlan found himself scanning the horizon for one and searching the rooftops for a hidden form. Where had the dragon gone? He was not here in Xin. Was he still ravaging Jingen?
What did dragons do other than eat and sleep?
Kill!
And kill.
What did snakes do? Weren’t dragons just a kind of snake but with wings and magic and malevolence?
He scanned the soft blues and greens of the summer horizon before turning back to the sweaty work of climbing the stone stairs. It was nearly noon. Nearly time for the announcement. He needed a look at his sister. He could fight through the pain for that.
He tugged at the long blue cloak he wore. He should have left it at the healers. It was only making him hot and holding him back. He could shed it, but if he did, he’d have to carry it and his shoulder wasn’t up to carrying anything.
Shed. Snakes shed their skins, didn’t they
? It was called molting. Perhaps that was where the dragon was. Perhaps the massive creature was up in the mountains somewhere, trying to shed the homes and roads and bridges built into his scales. That’s what Tamerlan would do if he were a dragon.
He walked carefully through the dense crowd, barely noticing the people as thoughts of dragons filled his mind. The crowd was mostly dressed in white – the color for Dawnspell – except the refugees who had nothing else to wear. He would stand out as a refugee in his worn guard’s uniform. He should remember that. But instead, all he could think of was dragons. How could he find out how to kill one?
His eyes drifted across the people as he crested the final stairs onto the cobblestone street beyond. A woman stood to the side of the pushing crowd, her eyes hollow, two grimy children clutched in her arms. Their eyes watched the crowd hungrily.
Tamerlan felt the blood rush to his cheeks and he patted his belt pouch. No coins. Nothing to give them. He glanced down at the silver cloak clasp with the palace insignia. That was worth something. Carefully, he pushed through the crowd wincing at every touch or jostle. He shouldn’t be out of bed. He wasn’t healed enough for what he was doing.
He had the pin out of the cloak and was handing it to the woman before he’d even reached her. Surprise widened her eyes. It shouldn’t. Someone should have taken her in by now. How selfish were the people of this city that they hadn’t? His face grew hotter. She reached for the pin but stopped before she touched it, as if she were afraid to take it. He shoved it into her outstretched hand.
“Take it. Feed your children,” he said, his voice thick. On an impulse, he pulled off the cloak, offering it, too. One of the boys pointed wide-eyed at the sword on his hip. Without the cloak, it looked a bit too obvious, but he wouldn’t change his mind. The way the woman shivered in the sea wind, she could use the cloak. And it was all he had to give.
“Thank you,” she said, clutching the cloak and pin like they were treasures.
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