Dragonhunters

by Sabrina Chase

  “They need too much water.” Bové took the hookah pipe from his mouth and gestured. “We could use horses, but then we’d need yet another camel just to carry water for them. The wells are too far apart on the quickest route. Don’t let him fool you, Talbot. It isn’t nearly as bad as being at sea.”

  Ardhuin affected relief, to general amusement, and the topic changed to visiting a nearby inn that featured music and dancers. “Wearing nothing but a few scarves and a handful of spangles!” Simons added, enthusiastically. “And flexible as cats. I don’t know how they do it. You should go, Kermarec. Doesn’t get much more exotic than that, and you could put it in your books! Don’t worry, we won’t tell your wife.”

  Dominic raised an eyebrow. “And when she reads it in my book, what am I to say? Or did you think she doesn’t read them? No, I think I’ll pass this time. I still haven’t written down all the exotic details I saw this morning, and you want to leave early, I believe?” He glanced at Bové, who nodded.

  “Yes, as much travel before the heat as possible.”

  Simons looked at Ardhuin. “What about you, Talbot? You don’t have a wife to worry about, do you?”

  Ardhuin smiled. “Not at all. But I didn’t get much sleep on the ship, and now you are promising me more of the same tomorrow. I’d better rest now while I can. The dark beauties will have to dance without me.”

  “You’re missing a treat.” Simons shook his head sorrowfully. “They’ve got some pretty girls in Ynde, but we aren’t going that route this time. The Cathan women—‌well, the locals seem to like that style of thing, but their dancing is like doing calisthenics very slowly inside a large winter overcoat, and they aren’t nearly as pretty.”

  “Or perhaps your reputation preceded you and they took precautions to protect their ladies from your hairy geilo advances.” Bové rose from the low couch. “The local ras shaq dancers are distinctly inferior to those in Lankhor—‌and before you embrace any of them, I would suggest you remember how many sailors have done the same.”

  “Oh, pfui!” Simons rolled his eyes. “What an old woman you’re turning into.”

  “You’re going too?” Dominic asked Bové.

  “Yes, that’s where most business is done. I have to meet with the caravan master. It’s a social expectation,” he added, grimacing. “Geaptans think it bad form to get straight to the point. A simple yes or no can take hours.”

  Markus and Sonam also made excuses to remain. As the others prepared to go, Dominic got out his writing materials and set up on a low table. Ardhuin went back to the sleeping area. It had two windows, originally shuttered against the sun, and she opened one and looked out. Lamps dotted the darkness, and faint moonlight created darker shadows of palm trees and buildings. It appeared most of the inhabitants had already gone wherever they were going, and few people could be seen in the street.

  “See anything?” Dominic came in, followed by Markus.

  “No. I wonder if she will come tonight or wait until we are out of the city.” Ardhuin turned away and took a seat on a bed. Dominic took her place at the window, gazing at the night scene with an air of fascination.

  “Stoller wanted to know where we were staying, remember? So I think—” Dominic jumped back with a gasp, stumbling and putting up an arm. A dark figure, black robes swirling around it, vaulted through the window.

  Stoller warned us. Attackers, already! Ardhuin snatched power and narrowed it to a single lance, trusting Dominic to see it and dodge, and lashed out.

  “No!” Markus lunged and interposed himself just as the magic left her hands and smashed into his shield, knocking him and the black–‌clad figure to the floor.

  “What the hell do you think you are doing, Asgaya?” Dominic untangled himself from a small table, glaring.

  Markus appeared stunned, and was catching his breath. The black figure was struggling to stand while staring up at Ardhuin with pale, wary eyes.

  Pale eyes. “Gutrune?” The figure froze. Ardhuin hesitated, uncertain.

  “Your school friend wears another face,” Dominic said meaningfully. The pale eyes swung to him, and then the figure reached up and pulled the black scarf concealing their features.

  “Secure?” Gutrune whispered.

  Ardhuin gestured, putting wards and shielding for sound around them. Then she dropped the illusion on her face. “Is that better?”

  Gutrune leaned back against the wall, breathing hard. Her face was the same unusual brown that Stoller’s had been, but her golden hair was unchanged under the scarf.

  “What’s wrong?” Markus was staring at her, his hands clenching and flexing. “You look like hell—‌that is, you appear fatigued.”

  She gave a mirthless laugh. “Stoller and I have been on the run since Anatoli. I do not know if Denais’s people knew they were being watched, or if they discovered what we had found. The disguise was the only way we could get here unnoticed, and I did not wish to bring you to their attention as well, or I would have found a less startling way to arrive.” Her breathing had evened by now, and she gave Ardhuin a slight smile. “You really must give me the name of your tailor. I feel I may be in need of his services.”

  Something in her voice wasn’t quite right. Shaky. Gutrune looked up sharply, reaching for something in her robes, and Ardhuin saw Sonam standing in the doorway staring.

  “No, it’s all right—‌he’s with us.” Ardhuin adjusted the magic to allow Sonam to enter. “This is Sonam. MacCrimmon sent him to bring help. That’s why we’re here.”

  “But Denais is…‌”

  “Undoubtedly they viewed it as too sensitive to tell you using the usual means, but we believe Denais or his agents are the ones MacCrimmon needed help to deal with,” Markus said smoothly. “I can give you all the details later, if you wish. Now, who is chasing you? Have you seen them here?”

  “Not since we entered the city. It is harder to track here. With your help, it should be possible to evade them when we leave.” Gutrune shifted. “Herr Kermarec. Do you see anything…‌unusual about me? Something only your talent can see?”

  Ardhuin blinked. Did she fear some kind of tracking spell had been placed on her?

  Dominic’s brow wrinkled as he looked at her. “What am I searching for, a geas? I don’t see anything like that.”

  “Nothing of that order.” Gutrune closed her eyes. “I don’t know what to tell you to look for. All I know is this.” Her voice was measured and very even. “I opened a container left by Denais’s spy. It was full of a substance that looked like oily sand. I used my knife to see if anything was hidden inside, and it sprayed up into my face. My lamp was knocked over and went out. And then,” she held up her browned hands, “there was magefire. No one else was there to cast the spell. It took nearly four hours for the light to fade, and it did not return. I did not notice any other effects.”

  A stunned silence filled the room.

  Finally Dominic stirred. “Where did you find this container?”

  “In a warehouse. It was one of several in a crate. It seemed…‌dangerous. Too dangerous to risk a message that could be intercepted. I altered the label of the crate so it would be shipped to my brother, and alerted him to watch for it.”

  “Good. Although it would have been interesting to see it for ourselves, we have more than enough to do here,” Ardhuin said.

  Gutrune looked up at her. “I kept the opened container with me.”

  “Even better!” Dominic brightened. “Is it with you now?”

  “Hidden. I or Stoller guard it at all times. I did not want to bring it to you without knowing more.”

  Which was probably wise, but now they needed a way to both get to the hidden container and not cause questions if the other explorers came back early. What they settled on was an illusion to make it appear as if “Mr. Talbot” were asleep, and Markus and Sonam remaining behind while she and Dominic went with Gutrune out the window. Markus raised several objections to this plan, but even he had to admit there was not
much time and was overruled.

  With levitation and shadows, they escaped the room unnoticed. Gutrune, swathed in her black native robes, led the way. Stoller saw her and stood, while an unusually ugly camel snorted and burbled in the background.

  “What, did you not find her, miss?”

  Ardhuin did a quick check for observers and cast more protective magic. The casting felt odd, as if she were back at Peran near the ley lines. Like something was pushing or resisting her magic.

  “Oh.” Dominic was staring at the angular camel harness, in the back recesses of the alcove. “Is that…‌” he pointed.

  “You can see it?” Gutrune snapped her head around.

  “It’s…‌very bright. It looks like…‌” He swallowed hard. “You’re sure it isn’t liquid?”

  Gutrune shook her head. “Like sand, or salt. You can see it through the leather?”

  Dominic nodded, his face pale and drawn. “It reminds me of the essence Denais…‌extracted. It is magic. Pure magic.”

  Ardhuin walked carefully up to the harness. The magic was buffeting her like a strong wind. Even she could tell where the container was hidden, but she could not force her hands close enough to uncover it. Stoller had to reach for the flap of leather on the underside where it was concealed.

  The simple clay jar was unremarkable in appearance, and as Gutrune had described them, the contents looked like salt or sand.

  “What should we do with it?” Gutrune asked.

  Ardhuin took a deep breath. “Keep it away from iron. That’s probably what made it spurt up at you, when you used your knife.”

  “But should we get rid of it?”

  She shook her head, trying to think of all the implications. All of the problems. With a sinking feeling, she realized this was something only the Mage Guardians could deal with. Gutrune had said there was more. She had only found one crate. What if there were others? What was the source? If she was right, the substance in the ordinary clay jar could destroy Aerope in a way that would make the Mage War seem small.

  “Keep it hidden where it is. Don’t let any magician near it if you can, and don’t mention it to anyone. Do you understand me? Not the Preusan government, not your brother. Don’t tell anyone else what happened to you.” Despite the desert heat that still remained, she shivered.

  “Ardhuin—‌what’s wrong?” Dominic was looking worried.

  Despite the wards and protections, she gestured them closer. “You were right—‌it is magic. Magic anyone can use. Mage–level magic. And if Denais has it…‌”

  Gutrune’s eyes went wide with horror. “Gott. He must be stopped. This must be stopped. And the source…‌”

  Ardhuin nodded. “The source must be found.”

  Chapter 10

  Otto Korda walked through the circular doorway in the stone wall, steeling himself for the brief moment of strong resistance from the ward. It parted to allow him to enter as it always had, but he wondered if it had recently gotten harder to push through or if it was merely his imagination. Even Denais could not put such a delicate restriction on a ward—‌could he?

  He reviewed the list of commands as he approached the lake pavilion. Do not speak until commanded to do so. Keep your eyes lowered. Never question orders. It was a long list, and he must never forget any of it. Especially now.

  It was early, and a veil of mist still covered the lake, muting the colors of the water lilies and even the brilliant colors of the peacocks searching for insects on the far shore. Denais was seated on an ornate chair facing the lake, sipping tea. One of the local servants, incongruously dressed in the Aeropan style, stood rigidly at attention to one side holding the teapot, her eyes focused on Denais for the signal to approach and refill his cup.

  Denais appeared pensive, a sharp line etched between his brows, and his gaze focused on the lake. Not propitious. Otto stopped on the path just before the steps to the pavilion and waited, unmoving.

  “Korda. Where is the mineral essence shipment? It should have arrived by now.”

  “No one has come, my lord.” Otto could feel the palms of his hands getting damp. This was the risk, that Denais would begin to notice too soon.

  “What of Kunstler?”

  “He left Anatoli but has not yet arrived here.”

  Denais sipped his tea for a moment, gazing at the lifting mist. “If the mineral essence is not here in two weeks, I will leave for the valley that day. Korda, you will accompany me. Go and prepare what is necessary for the journey.”

  Seething, Korda bowed and left. He could not disobey, but the last thing he wanted was to go even farther from civilization. Denais had taken all of the Ostri captives to Asea, to prevent them from being recognized. Korda hated Asea. Che–‌ing province was bad enough, but Bhuta was even worse. No Aeropan supplies could be had at any price, and the locals were scrawny, dirty, and hostile. It would also make it nearly impossible to direct his own plans. He would have to make certain to give his own people the latest instructions before he left.

  At first his only motivation had been revenge. Baron Kreuzen had been a hard master but a fair one—‌and Korda could not forget the baron’s last desperate efforts to defend his people when he could have escaped. That had been the hardest thing, to see him wounded and in chains when there was nothing anyone could do to free him. They all had been put under the geas by then.

  At first Korda hadn’t understood what was happening. It was one thing to read about the terrible magical compulsion used by Guedoc in the Mage War, but now he had both seen and felt it. All he could do was watch and suffer. It did not take long for him to realize the full extent of Denais’s plans. Not just an army of slaves, oh no. That would leave too much work for Denais, for each slave would need his geas placed by the master himself.

  Instead, Denais had picked a handful of the students with the power and skill to do the geas themselves, and taught them the forbidden spell. Since they were already controlled, they could be trusted. All he needed was a victim for them to practice on—‌Korda.

  He had been manacled with special chryselectrum–‌lined iron cuffs, and his geas removed. He’d lost track of how many times it had been placed on him, removed, and placed again. He’d memorized the list of commands, felt the vise on his mind after the few brief moments of freedom. He’d heard every step of the instructions. If he’d only had the power, he could have cast a geas himself. But no, he was just an assistant—‌not even strong enough to be considered a full magician, never mind a mage.

  He’d learned to hate Denais then, with every fiber of his being. Dreaming of revenge was the only comfort he had, the only thing that kept him sane. That someday he’d be able to destroy Denais, wreck his plans, and never feel the cage of fire on his mind again. Korda found himself rubbing his wrists as he walked away from the pavilion, still feeling the weight of the cuffs. He forced himself to stop before anyone noticed.

  But no one was watching. He remembered his own private hell, when he had also sometimes deliberately looked away when under the geas. They must be doing the same. Even Denais could not force you to betray something you hadn’t seen. And then one day, to his very great surprise, the geas vanished. The mineral essence that Denais prized so highly had freed him—‌he still wasn’t entirely certain how. Long after he was no longer used as a test subject, Korda had been ordered to remove a jar of the essence to Denais’s workroom, and a few grains had fallen on his face when he lifted the jar up to place it on a shelf. He always thought about fighting back when the geas was placed, and nearly every waking moment—‌and suddenly the pressure on his mind was gone. Denais, supremely confident of his abilities, never thought to check that it was still there—‌and it was not so hard to pretend.

  It had been more difficult to find a way to destroy Denais’s plans until he realized all he really needed to do was subvert them. Take over the slaves, reroute the supplies, change the deliveries of the mineral essence. He’d discovered that a very simple layer of command, a light
geas covering the one Denais had set, was all that was needed. Those under his control saw him as issuing commands by Denais, and the original, more powerful geas did the rest.

  Now in the palatial main house Denais used as his headquarters, Korda called servants to him and issued curt orders—‌some for Denais, some for himself. Sometimes Korda wondered if he was allowing himself to be seduced by the promise of power, power he had always wanted, but then he found new resolve. It was a good thing to destroy Denais, wasn’t it? As long as he was destroyed, did it really matter how it was done? Korda had not enslaved these people; he was preventing Denais from doing more. He was protecting them. He’d free them in the end. When he had everything he needed.

  But first, he must not be discovered. Not before his plans were complete. Denais must not know his slave was free.

  Stoller emerged from the dusty crowd carrying a cloth bundle and made his way to the shaded alley Gutrune was hiding in.

  “Got rid of the lot and found what you asked for.” He dumped a bundle of clothes on a low wall with the air of a man relieved of a burden. “Even with all this, we have a little left over. Would you believe that thrice–‌damned camel went for thirty–‌six seqim?”

  “The only way that miserable creature could be worth so much is as dog meat.” If she had been asked what the transit of the isthmus had been like, she would be unable to describe it in much detail. All of her time and attention, and that of Stoller, had been devoted to dragging the camel the right direction, biting and kicking the entire way. It was a miracle it hadn’t completely lost its load, although it had dropped it more than once.

  Stoller shrugged. “We’d better leave before the dogs get sick, then. Stupid beast will be completely indigestible, I’m thinking. Will they do?”

  Gutrune held up the jacket, nodding. Her black robes were gone, no longer needed. They would be conspicuous instead of concealing on board the Atlantean packet ship that would take them to Cathai. The timing was fortunate, as the dye she had used for her skin was fading. While she and Stoller had been able to avoid the other camel drivers on the journey, it would be harder to remain unseen on the ship.