He nodded. “I’m willing to pay.”
“There are other ways you could do this.”
“I don’t know how.”
She looked down at the dragon claw, turning it in her hand. “Maybe I can use this while I am traveling through the kingdom. It’s possible that somebody might have heard something new.” She looked up. “I’ve told you before that you have to consider the possibility that they’re gone.”
He swallowed. “I know.”
“Do you? I wonder. Your mother was a good woman. Can’t say that I knew your father all that well, but she wouldn’t have left unless there was a reason.”
“I know.”
“Probably chasing something, if I know her.” Maggie shook her head. “Never met anybody quite like her. Every place that I’ve traveled. Always interested in dragon relics. It makes sense that she would’ve ended up here, of all places, but…”
That was Ty’s memory of his mother as well. It was why he thought she had left, and part of the reason he gathered dragon relics to offer to Maggie in trade or to sell, thinking that somehow they would draw his mother out of hiding—though he wondered if she truly was hiding or if something had happened to her.
Understanding what had happened to his father was harder. He had disappeared shortly after his mother. Ty suspected he had gone after her, but he hadn’t said anything to Ty. He had just disappeared one day, leaving Ty alone.
Ishantil trembled again, and Ty looked up, noticing the glowing coming from the peak in the darkness. He stared for a few moments before tearing his gaze away.
He found Maggie watching him.
“I did hear rumors when I was up near the peak,” she said. “Something about the priests planning something to settle her down.”
“Her?”
“Oh, she can be an angry one,” Maggie said, her voice soft.
“I think the priests are the ones trying to blow smoke up someone’s ass. They think they can calm Ishantil with the right offering to the Flame,” Ty said. “Which, they claim, is part of the reason we haven’t seen a true eruption for centuries.”
“You don’t think that’s true?”
“I can’t say that I know,” he said. “But I don’t think they can control the volcano. It’s either going to erupt, or it’s not.”
Maggie watched him again for a moment. “I find the difference between you and your brother quite amusing.” She chuckled. “I saw him a few months ago, you know. We were in Inar. It surprised me to see him. He pretended not to recognize me, and maybe he didn’t. You were always the one to come with your mother for trade, but I remembered him. Little Albion.” She shook her head. “I never took him for the faithful one, but I never took you for a thief.” She glanced over, arching a brow at him. “I suppose it takes all kinds.”
“And what about you?”
“Why, I haven’t changed in decades,” Maggie said. “Which I’m sure you remember.”
Ty chuckled. “When I was collecting”—Maggie’s brow raised slightly at that phrasing—“the king’s men said the archaeologists agree with the priests that Ishantil will erupt, but the last time it did anything interesting was about ten years ago, when it sent up a plume of smoke.”
That had lasted for the better part of a month. When it had ended, the priests had all claimed victory, that they had somehow sated the Flame. His mother had not countered that claim, though she had watched Ishantil with a question in her eyes. He remembered the way she had stared up the mountainside even then.
“I think you should be careful,” Maggie said. “People in this part of the city have been talking. They’re the ones who know the old ways. They know what’s coming—and they’re worried. Might be that it’s her time. Which tells me that it’s time to move on. Come with me. I’d put you to work, of course, but it would be honest work.”
“Honest?”
“As honest as any trader,” she said. “But you wouldn’t have to stay here. You could go in search of answers on your own. I wouldn’t bind you to any service that you wouldn’t want.”
He knew he should take the offer—she’d made it so many times—but the timing never seemed right. With Ishantil threatening, maybe now was the time. There was a part of him that knew he should go, but there was also a part of him that feared doing so. Leaving meant risking never knowing whether his parents would return.
And the letter his mother had left, the one his father had shown him before he had disappeared, suggested she would return. It was why he waited.
Ishantil rumbled yet again, and Maggie looked up. “I should get back to my work, and you should get back to… well, whatever you have to do. Here.” She handed him the claw. “Take it. It’s more valuable to you. When you’re ready to leave, then you pay me.”
He got to his feet. He wasn’t sure what to say.
It was time for him to go. He didn’t know what he was going to do, but there was a part of him tempted to return to see the king’s dragon. They weren’t in the city all that often. He could observe from the wall. Maybe he could even see if the dragons somehow activated any of the bones or other remnants the archaeologists had uncovered.
He smiled at Maggie as she looked at him. “Thank you.”
“Think about my offer.”
“I will.”
But they both knew he wouldn’t.
Chapter Four
The inside of the shop was dingy and dark, with very little sunlight coming through the dirty windows. A single lantern rested on the counter near the back, adding a bit more light to the space, but Bingham preferred to do everything in darkness and shadows, so he didn’t necessarily mind the dimness. The air had a faintly spicy aroma, the smell of ancient items that had been collected over the years—some of questionable value, and more than a few that were obvious fakes. That didn’t stop some people from buying them.
Ty had learned to sniff out the fakes when he was young, something his mother had taught him. He still didn’t know why she’d cared, but it had served him well while working with Bingham. A skillfully crafted fake could sell for two or three silvers, but the genuine thing would sell for two or three gold coins.
He scanned the shelves. Bingham presented himself as an honest businessman—and in some ways, he was—but mostly he was honest about the fact that he dealt with antiquities, though Ty wondered how many of them were honestly acquired. A majority of them probably were—if they weren’t, they would attract the wrong kind of attention—but not all of them. After leaving the healer named Maeve he’d worked with when he’d first come down to the city, Ty had personally gathered quite a few for Bingham over the years and knew he moved items of questionable value out of this shop without anyone being the wiser.
“Didn’t expect to see you here today,” Bingham said, coming out of the back. He was an older man, with gray hair and deep wrinkles. He had a long scar along the base of his neck that Ty had often wondered how he’d acquired. He also had a burn on one hand that caused it to contract, making it look a bit more like a claw. That, he did know the story of. He’d gotten too close to Ishantil and had been touched by the Flame, though to hear Bingham talk of it, he’d ventured there by choice because he’d gone after Ty’s mother. His friendship with Ty’s mother was one that Ty didn’t really understand. Bingham wasn’t the kind of person he would’ve expected his mother to befriend. Then again, his mother had been friends with Maggie, and she had her own dubious qualities.
“I have something for you,” Ty said.
Bingham glanced at the door before nodding to him. In the faint lantern light, Bingham’s flat, gray eyes seemed to shine more brightly than they should. “It’s about time you got here. I was starting to wonder if you were thinking about moving those remnants yourself.”
“You knew?” Ty should know better than to try to pull anything past Bingham.
“Eastley came by. Didn’t have anything, though claimed he had to collect on a bet. Thought he might find you here.”
Ty
kept his face neutral.
Did Eastley really think he had won the bet?
Ty doubted that he had managed to get more than Ty’s collection of bones.
“Did you think to sell without me?” Bingham asked.
Ty had to be careful. He had to keep in Bingham’s good graces. He was the primary contact for selling what Ty collected, and if he lost that, then he would lose the ability to easily move items. “Of course not. Who else would I use?”
There were other fences he could use, but he trusted them even less than he trusted Bingham.
Bingham limped around the counter, past him, and over to the door, where he slid a hidden, long metal bar forward to lock into the frame. He glanced at the windows before shaking his head. Bingham had trained Ty, and he probably should trust him more than he trusted anybody else in the city, but he knew Bingham had his own motives. Besides, Bingham had other crews he worked with, others he hired, including those he pitted against Ty at times.
“It’s all remnants. There might be relics, but I didn’t see anything. Eastley heard rumors of dragon pearls—”
“From me,” Bingham said.
That wasn’t too surprising. Bingham was well-connected.
“And we won’t be able to hold on to much here for very long,” Bingham said, glancing over to the satchel Ty carried. “The Dragon Touched have an increased presence in the city. It is more than just this expedition.”
“Maybe it’s because of what’s happening with Lothinal,” he said.
Bingham frowned at him. “What would you know about that?”
Ty shrugged. “Not much, really. I just heard a rumor that they’ve been moving along the border. Trying to claim land.”
“They’re always trying to claim land,” Bingham said. “Probably want Ishantil to erupt anyway. Destroy Zarinth, then the king would have no reason to keep a presence here.”
“He’d have a reason,” Ty said. “He needs access to the dragon relics buried around the city and hiding along Ishantil.”
“Maybe. Still, he might be happy if the volcano destroyed the temple. Deal with the priests, get rid of them, and be able to claim any dragon remnant or relic without having to argue.” Bingham shook his head. “If I were ruling, that’s what I would do.”
“I suppose it’s a good thing you aren’t ruling,” Ty said.
“I don’t know if I could handle the palace life anyway—or the rest of the kingdom. I’m too accustomed to Zarinth.”
“I think you’re too connected in Zarinth,” he said.
Bingham regarded him for a moment.
Ty knew not to linger here too long, and knew not to push Bingham. He had to be careful. “There’s something else,” Ty said. Bingham watched him, his eyes unchanging. “There was a dragon. I’m surprised the king would have one here, but it was one of his dragons.”
“Which one?”
“I don’t know. A black one?”
Bingham glowered at him. “That’s all you have for me? A black one?”
“I just saw a dragon, Bingham.”
“He brings them into the city all the time,” he said, waving his hand dismissively. “At least, when he wants to show off. And it might not even be the city that he cares about this time. You’ve seen how many soldiers he’s moved into the city. It’s not all about the Flame. Besides, a dragon is a weapon. That’s it.”
Ty had been uncomfortable seeing the dragon, but he had a hard time viewing it as simply a weapon. It didn’t strike him that way. It was a creature—maybe a small one, and stunted compared to the kingdom’s once-powerful dragons—but still a creature. And it had been powerful. He had felt the heat radiating off of it, the magic, and there was a part of him that still felt compelled by it.
He pushed those thoughts away. “Do you want to see what I’ve got here, or are we going to just keep chatting?”
“I’m waiting to see what you might show me.” Bingham stared at Ty, a hardness in his eyes as he leaned back and waited. “Show me what you have. I will let you know whether it’s anything I can move.”
Ty pulled open the pack, debating which of the dragon remnants to start with. The large bone might be the most interesting, but it wasn’t the hottest. With dragon remnants, the heat mattered, and the remnants that had more heat within them often were far more valuable than those with less. He would hold off on the claw until a bit later, then. He would start with one of the smaller bones.
He reached into the pack and pulled it out.
Bingham frowned, taking it from him and turning it in his hand, rolling it from one side to the other. “Do you know where this comes from?” he asked as he looked at the bone, tracing his fingers along it.
Ty had always thought Bingham was knowledgeable when it came to dragon remnants, but he also had an understanding of dragon anatomy, as if that mattered when it came to these things. Perhaps it did. Given that Ty wasn’t one of the Dragon Touched, he didn’t have any idea whether the bone or location where the item came from even mattered.
“I don’t have time to study anatomy, Bingham. And it doesn’t really even matter. It only matters that we have things the king wants and we sell them back to him.”
It was the best part of the whole process. He would gather the dragon items, often things that came from the king’s collection, then sell them back to the king. Ty and Bingham didn’t like to keep them for themselves. There was no point in doing so. They couldn’t use them, as anything dragon-related was not valuable to anyone other than the king.
“It doesn’t matter to you, but it does matter to me.” The hardness hadn’t faded from his expression, but now an edge of irritability entered into his voice. “This comes from a finger bone.” He held out a finger, wiggling it. “I imagine if you were to find a dragon attached to this, you would be amazed at just how impressive their digits are.”
It was larger than the finger bone of the stunted dragon—probably twice as long or longer. “What about this one?” Ty asked, pulling the other bone out of the pack.
Bingham grabbed for the bone and lifted it up, holding it to the lantern. “Not quite as warm, is it?” he muttered, mostly to himself. “I wonder if that means…” He frowned, holding the bone closer to his face. “A different creature. I see.”
Given the scale of the collection that the Dragon Touched, along with the archaeologists, had gathered at the edge of the city, the size of the find had to be enormous.
How many different dragons would have been part of it?
Ty shrugged and pulled out the claw. “What about this?”
Bingham’s breath caught. “This is far rarer. We don’t find the claws nearly as often. They degrade, unlike the bone.” He held it up to the lantern, as he had with the other two items, and whistled softly. “This is more recent than the others, too.”
“So we’ve got parts of three dragons?” Ty asked.
That would explain the size of the find.
Bingham looked over at him. “From my appraisal, at least. It would be uncommon, but it suggests that the place they encountered these bones was important to the dragons.”
“Like a nest,” Ty said.
“Dragons aren’t birds, Ty. Regardless of how they might seem, they are not birds.”
“They lay eggs.”
“Have you ever seen a dragon egg?” Bingham asked.
“I haven’t, but then again, I haven’t seen a fully grown dragon either.”
“Only because you haven’t ventured to the capital,” Bingham said.
“Neither have you. And we both know that the dragons the king has aren’t fully grown. They’re… something else,” Ty stated.
“I haven’t been there recently,” Bingham said softly and sighed, holding the claw and turning it from side to side. “Fascinating. Look at this. The striations in the claw seem to have a different pattern than the bone.”
Only when Bingham handled dragon bones and remnants did he seem at ease; otherwise, he was gruff—almost angry.
> “I’ve seen the striations,” Ty said.
Bingham looked up at him. “Have you, now?”
“You’ve trained me to recognize them,” Ty said.
Bingham regarded him for a long moment. “I don’t want you bringing me any forgeries.”
“There aren’t any remnant forgeries. Only relic ones. And you wouldn’t buy them if I did.”
“I wouldn’t, but I don’t want you wasting your time going after them anyway.”
“Can you sell it?” Ty asked.
“The claw is going to raise some questions, and remnants in this quantity are rare, though I could move them. But you brought too much. And with as many Dragon Touched as there are in the city, we’d have to move them quickly.”
It was similar to what Maggie had said. She had warned him that they wouldn’t be able to move easily through the kingdom and get rid of the dragon bones, so why should he think that Bingham would have a smoother time?
“I could stash them for a while,” Ty said.
Bingham watched him. “That’s your plan?”
“Well, I’m not exactly sure what to do otherwise.”
“I’ll buy them, but not at the price you want me to,” Bingham said quickly. “I’m sorry, but that’s just the way it is.”
“I’m getting penalized for bringing you more than you expected?”
“You’re getting penalized because the Dragon Touched have a heavy presence in the city and the items are getting harder to move without drawing the wrong kind of attention. You’re also getting penalized because—”
“I get it,” Ty said and looked at the satchel. All of that, and he wouldn’t even make what he should off of it?
He shouldn’t argue with Bingham about this, but he wanted more.
There might be other places Ty could bring the items. He knew some merchants in the city and he had his own contacts—maybe not the same ones as Bingham, but enough that he thought he could sell some of this and maybe get more than what Bingham offered.
Path of the Flame (The Dragon Thief Book 1) Page 4