by Luke Arnold
We slid into a dark alley to watch the site, unseen. I chewed a Clayfield and Hendricks smoked his pipe.
“You’re right, boy. This is some operation.”
“Even bigger than the last time I was here. What do you think they’re up to?”
“I don’t know yet. Maybe Montgomery Fiztwitch can find out.”
“I… I really didn’t want to try that trick again.”
Luckily, Hendricks laughed.
“No, no. This is far busier than the factory. More protected. You might get in but I doubt you’ll be able to get out. We need more information. Let’s follow one of the workers away from the sight, ambush and interrogate them.”
I couldn’t help grinning at the idea. It was ridiculous. But I’d been doing a lot of ridiculous things recently and this time I’d have my mentor at my side.
“We must wait for the right candidate,” said Hendricks. “We need someone slow. Someone alone.”
It wasn’t like the factory, where huge groups of workers changed shifts at once. Here, people were always coming and going. Eventually, a Gnome with a limp exited the gates and peeled away from the pack, moving to the north-west.
“Here we go,” said Hendricks, putting a hand on my shoulder. “Let’s keep our distance as long as we can. Don’t be afraid to leave me behind if he should pick up the pace. I’m not as sprightly as I once was.”
“Then what? We follow him home?”
“Hopefully not. He might have a family or be living in some crowded apartment. We jump him in an alley and pretend it’s a mugging. Try to let the information come out as if by accident. We don’t want his employers knowing what we’re up to.”
It was madness. I was about to stalk a defenseless Gnome on his way back from work, but it was worth it because I was doing it with Hendricks: a man who could make a cup of tea feel like an adventure. I had to stop myself giggling with excitement as we prowled through the streets, watching our mark, ready to put on a show.
There were many reasons why Hendricks picked our target. For one, he had short legs and a limp so Eliah’s old bones could keep up. He also walked alone, so we wouldn’t have to wait for him to part ways with any colleagues. It was also because he was heading west.
There were some nice areas on the western half of the city but they were all in the neighborhoods closest to Main Street. Our friend was walking right out towards the city limits. If the Gnome lived out in that part of town, we would have plenty of time to ambush him on the empty streets along the way.
It couldn’t have been any easier. The Gnome even had a cold, so after Hendricks’ leg cramped and we had to slow down, a sneezing fit from our target put us back on his trail.
Fifteen minutes into our journey, the Gnome took a shortcut through a narrow alley between two warehouses and we were given the perfect chance to make our move.
“Quick,” said Hendricks. “Run around the building and block him in on the other side. I’ll keep following.”
I did as I was told but, hoping to shave a bit of time off my trip, I cut through the warehouse instead. The space seemed abandoned but it hadn’t been cleaned out. Only a small amount of light came through the holes in the roof so, a few steps in, I banged my shins against a piece of forgotten machinery. It hurt like hell but I found it kind of funny. It was all so stupid. I smashed into a trash pile and tripped over a bit of old pipe that went skittering into a stack of tin cans. I couldn’t have made more noise if I’d tried to.
The Gnome was so slow that when I came out the other side, I still had time to button my coat, pull up the collar so that it covered my mouth, and yank my hat down over my eyes. I took out my knife and got myself into character. Then, I turned the corner.
The Gnome stopped. He was already on edge because he’d heard me clanging around inside the warehouse. Hendricks had been walking without the cane to keep himself quiet but he used it to catch up to us. The Gnome looked between us, eyes wide with fear.
“Please,” he said, “I have nothing.”
He was shaking. That kind of sucked the fun out of it. Luckily, Hendricks took the lead.
“That’s not what I hear. Word around town is that the Niles Company pays real good.”
He was putting on a stupid, gruff voice. It was a good thing that my collar covered my smile.
“No!” protested the Gnome. “Not to me. I’m just a digger.”
“A digger?” Hendricks gave me a wink, like we’d discovered something important. “Don’t lie to me, little man; why are you digging up the stadium?”
His bottom lip trembled but he couldn’t find his voice.
“Answer him,” I threatened. “Or we’ll… we’ll… hang you upside and… shake you till the money comes out.”
The Gnome was looking at me so he didn’t see Hendricks laugh. I wasn’t quite selling the dialogue.
“I just…” blubbered our poor victim, “… just do what they tell me. I only started today. I haven’t even been paid yet.”
“I don’t believe you,” said Hendricks, getting his character back under control and closing in. “Where’s the money?”
“I don’t have any money!” he screamed.
I looked up at Hendricks, hoping for a hint as to what our next play would be. While my gaze was high, the Gnome kicked me in the shin, right in the spot that I’d already bruised while running through the warehouse.
“Dammit!”
He kicked the cane out from under Hendricks who fell onto his side. I made a grab for the Gnome but he slipped through my arms. I mean, he really slipped. He was wet or slimy or something. I stumbled past him and tripped over Hendricks who was still wheezing on the floor.
Our victim disappeared around the corner.
“Eliah, are you okay?”
“Just a little bruised, my boy.”
I held out a hand to help him up and Hendricks broke into hysterical laughter. So did I. It was ridiculous. Tears ran down my cheeks as Hendricks finally grabbed my hand for support.
“Ugh. What is that?” He wiped his fingers on his coat. “Did you slip in something?”
“It was the little guy. He was… slick.”
Hendricks looked at the inside of my sleeves where the Gnome had slipped through my grasp. I’d been tainted by something translucent, thick and sticky. Hendricks wiped off some of it and held it up to his face.
“Is it some kind of gel?” I asked.
“Sort of.” He smelled it, then he thought for a while. “Hold out your lighter.”
Hendricks wiped his hand across my arms and chest, collecting as much slime as he could find. I held out my lighter, flicked it on, and Hendricks put his hand a few inches above the flame.
“Hold it steady,” he said.
Hendricks dropped his hand right into the fire and held it there.
“It’s fireproof,” I said.
Hendricks whistled in celebration.
“Of course it is. It’s Dragon saliva.” Hendricks moved his finger around in the flame. “But where in the world would the Niles Company get that?”
60
It felt like someone was playing a joke on me. We were back at the spot where the toothless Dwarf had told me about Dragons, looking for exactly the thing that I’d told him wasn’t there. This time, I was the believer and Hendricks was the cynic.
“Fetch, when was the last time you saw a Dragon?”
“The night of the Coda.”
“Exactly. Niles must have found an existing stockpile of saliva from the pre-Coda days.”
“I know. But it’s worth taking a look, right?”
We did look. We walked around the storage units and the silos for an hour. Sometimes we tapped the sides of them or pried open rusted doors to peer in at the always-uninteresting empty spaces. The sun went down and the night grew cold and our flasks went empty. I apologized to Hendricks that I’d wasted his time.
“No, no. It’s an idea and it might still bear some fruit.”
I felt like he
was humoring me but I pushed on.
We split up and walked around for another half an hour until I heard Hendricks calling out my name. When I found him, he was holding a dull glassy object shaped like a large toenail.
“Dragon scale,” said Hendricks.
“You’re sure?”
“No. They used to be colorful, even when they weren’t on the creature’s body. Reflective and vibrant. Strong enough to make into armor. This is,” he snapped off a corner, “brittle, like dry bone. But the shape is right, so maybe…”
We looked around. It was too quiet. Too dark. It was the last place you’d expect to find some legendary beast.
“The Dwarf said he heard a Dragon,” said Hendricks. “Well, let’s go back to that exact spot and wait a little longer. Maybe we’ll hear the same thing he did.”
On our way, Hendricks pointed to a metal drum discarded on the path.
“Bring that with us.”
I placed the drum at our starting point and Hendricks handed me a bronze bill.
“Get some more of that whiskey and something to eat. Maybe soup. Soup would be good. I’ll get a fire started while you’re gone.”
I took the cash and left him to scrounge for firewood. When I returned, I had a large bottle of booze and two tins of chicken soup. Hendricks was sitting next to the bucket, smoking his pipe and staring into the flames.
I sat down, handed him his dinner, and cracked open the whiskey. It was strong and peaty and even the fumes warmed me up. I took a swig and Hendricks did the same.
The fire crackled.
“Where did you find all this wood?” I asked.
“Broken off from old crates or pulled from piles of garbage. I wouldn’t breathe too deeply, boy. Some of it looked a little toxic.” The soup was hot and we sipped it carefully from the tins. The fire was bright. There were no other lights around, just stars and a sliver of moon. We could have been anywhere. Back out on the wild road to Gaila or camping up in the Groves. I could imagine our horses tied beside us or a whole team of Shepherds waiting over the next hill. It was nice to imagine those things, instead of the reality. Instead of High Chancellor Eliah Hendricks, leader of the Opus, crouched around a pile of burning garbage in the dirtiest city in the world.
He washed his soup down with whiskey and examined the bottle.
“You’re probably thinking I should slow down on this, after what happened?”
After what happened? Was he talking about that night? The last time I’d seen him before the Coda?
“What do you mean?”
“Look at me, Fetch. I did everything. For hundreds of years I ate, I drank, I fucked and I danced my way through this world. I put my body through hell because I knew it could take it. But now, without the magic to hold back the smoke and the poison, my history is coming back to haunt me. Now that the magic is gone, I’m being dragged away before my time.”
“Maybe not. There are other doctors. There might still be a way to turn things back.”
“I thought you didn’t believe in such things, Mr Man for Hire.” I couldn’t pin down his tone. “All I’m saying is, this can’t be helping, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to slow down now. If this is the end, I’m going to dance my way towards it, just as I always have. With whiskey and wine and tobacco and honey and song.”
He tilted his head back and bellowed out a few notes to warm himself up. His voice was rougher than it used to be, but still sweet, and he belted out the beginning of a Dwarven drinking song that we used to sing on the road.
We’d first heard it in a country tavern and it had become our favorite tune for many months. Whenever the days felt too long or the ride too tough, one of us would strike it up. We started out with the traditional lyrics but were soon inventing our own verses.
“Oh, Vera is a woman with a head of hair.
That is more impressive, way down there.
Look up her skirt and you’ll get a scare.
What a lovely lady is Vera.”
Nothing summed up Hendricks quite like the fact that he could speak a dozen languages, play untold instruments, sing like a Siren, and this was his favorite song.
I had a hit of whiskey to knock back my ever-present embarrassment and took the next round.
“Oh, Penny is woman with skin so green,
Like making love to a lima bean,
Not just a date, she’s a fine cuisine!
What a lovely lady is Penny.”
Hendricks cackled and pitched up his voice to an even louder volume.
“Oh, Fetch is a boy who loves to brood,
Takes ten strong men just to lift his mood,
He might cheer up if he ever got screeeeeeeeeeewed!”
His high voice vibrated in the air and I joined him in the final line.
“Ohhhh, what a lovely boy is Fetch!”
Our laughter echoed off the brick walls of the warehouses. Pigeons scattered from the roofs. Hendricks had his eyes turned up to the night sky and the firelight reshaped his face back to the one I remembered. Flawless, full of mischief, free from fear or worry. I couldn’t believe that I was here with him. Not just because he’d practically come back from the dead, but because I still couldn’t understand why, out of all the people in the world, he’d want to waste time with me.
I’d always felt that way. Even before all the bad things happened. I especially felt it now. I couldn’t say that to him. Of course not. So I just said, “I missed this.”
He turned his eyes from the stars.
“Me too, boy.”
We sipped our soup. A million unfinished thoughts filled my head. All the things I’d never shared over six long years because I didn’t think I had anyone around me who would bother to listen.
“It’s just…” I wished, not for the first time, that I had Hendricks’ talent with words.
“It’s nice to be with someone who actually knows me.”
Hendricks looked over the fire and I couldn’t work out what he was thinking.
“Let me tell you something.”
He put down his tin of soup and wiped his hands on his trousers. Then, he leaned over and tapped a finger on my temple.
“This mess, in here, is all you.” He tapped his own head. “And this whirlwind of madness is all me. We have our long talks and our secrets, years of adventure by each other’s side, but try as we might,” he put his whole hand across my face and squeezed it like he was trying to crack my skull, “we can never break through. I will never get inside your head and you will never really know what is happening in mine. That is our curse, boy. Each and every one of us.” He took his hand away and his eyes glowed bright green. “We are all alone.”
Then the Dragon roared.
61
We both jumped up.
“You heard that?” I asked.
“I’m old, not deaf, boy. This way.”
We left the fire and went in the direction of the sound. Buildings rattled in the breeze but otherwise the night was silent again. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. They were the same broken-down storage houses we’d been searching all day. Hendricks tapped a stone against the metal wall of a silo and sang as loudly as he could manage.
“Oh, Kelly is a boy with feet so big…”
The echo of his voice reverberated around us.
“He quakes the earth when he does a jig—”
“GROARRR.”
The sound had come from a little shack attached to the side of one of the old factories. It was a foreman’s office with no windows and one great padlock on the door.
“You know how to open one of these locks?” asked Hendricks.
“Sure. But why bother?”
The wooden shack was old, so I kicked the wall beside the door and a whole plank came loose. I punched out another plank and looked inside.
“There are stairs going underground.” I kicked out a few more planks till the hole was big enough to climb through. “Come on. Careful of the nails.”
We bot
h flicked our lighters on. Dust covered everything inside the office but the floor was full of footprints that went through a hatch and down a set of steep metal stairs.
I led the way down into a narrow tunnel that appeared to have been built recently: the dirt under our feet was powdery and unpacked and our feet kicked up clouds that sent Hendricks into a fit of coughing. The dust only cleared when we stepped out of the tunnel into a huge room.
Pre-Coda, magical machinery covered the stone floor: the kind of equipment that would have been used to flatten the swamp into the city’s foundations and carve out the canal. It was all Dwarven technology that had become outdated over the decades or just wasn’t needed once the job was done. There was probably a larger entrance somewhere else: this one must have been added so that someone could enter and exit without being seen.
“Fetch, listen.”
All I could hear was dripping water. Then… breathing. A rasping, deep rumble that came from the shadows at the other end of the room.
I gave Hendricks a look that asked him if he thought this was such a neat idea. He shrugged, which made both of us laugh, and we walked on.
The room kept going. Our lighters barely illuminated our path and the closer we got to the breathing, the stranger it sounded. A grating, scraping wheeze.
When the darkness squealed with fear, I jumped back. Hendricks stood strong with a look in his eye that I’d only seen a few times before.
Most of the time, Hendricks made his way through the world with an unflinching air of grace and relaxation as if he were hosting a glamorous party wherever he went. The more dire the situation, the more easy-going he became. His warm demeanor could turn the tide of tense diplomatic talks, send swords back to their sheaths and part crowds who were ready to riot. Other leaders would bluster where Hendricks would laugh and sing and play the fool.
But every now and again, the world would cut too deep.
Hendricks knew what we were going to find before the light hit the Dragon’s eyes.