Path of the Flame (The Dragon Thief Book 1)

by D. K. Holmberg

  Of course he was. Ty had to be careful here. Olivia still worked for Bingham, and he didn’t trust that she’d help with what he needed. “That’s fine. I need to do something before we fully scope out the temple anyway.”

  She frowned at him, and he decided to withhold that from her as well. She had things she kept from him, so he would keep his own secrets.

  They approached together and Olivia looked over at him, a bit of a worried expression in her eyes. She seemed a bit more haunted than she had before Ty had been imprisoned, and Ty suddenly started to wonder whether he was making a mistake. Perhaps he should have left her behind and done this himself. He shook those thoughts away as they reached the temple and stepped inside.

  The inside of the temple was well lit, the flames along the walls giving it a bright, vibrant light along with a warmth. The Flame upon the altar blazed as well. Ty found his gaze drifting to the dragon sculptures circling the wall, wondering if there might be anything, any heat, radiating from them, or whether that was diminished because of the dragon pearls having been moved.

  He stood in place for a moment, getting jostled from behind as other parishioners entered the temple, making their way forward to kneel upon the benches. Ty just stared.

  He took a deep breath and approached the altar carefully, moving slowly as he looked around. He needed to see the altar. He hadn’t seen it close up before, and he hadn’t seen the egg that Bingham had claimed was there, but Ty needed to now. He needed to know.

  One of the priests blocked his way and Ty smiled at him, nodding politely, not knowing if he would draw attention. The priest glanced at him before allowing him to move past. Ty let out a soft sigh and hurried past him, preparing to kneel on the bench nearest the altar. He looked up, but couldn’t see any sign of the egg within the Flame, nor any blue color within it suggesting it might be there, but when he was there with Bingham, he hadn’t seen anything either. Maybe the egg wasn’t there.

  Before going to see Albion, he wanted to make sure the egg was there. Then he could go to Albion. He, Olivia, and Bingham could make their plan for grabbing it, then he would make whatever trade was necessary to get Eastley.

  And then get out.

  All without drawing the attention of the Dragon Thief.

  The priest took up a position at the altar and raised his hand. Flames shot into the air and he started to chant.

  The rising heat reminded him of the way Roson James had used and commanded the fire, though this was a little different. This was a celebration of the Flame. Maybe the Dragon Touched and the Priests of the Flame were more connected than he had realized. Perhaps they both controlled the same connection to the dragons and the Flame.

  He stared, studying the heat rising up into the air, studying the flames.

  The priests often claimed that by coming to the temple and celebrating the Flame, one could find faith in the Flame, but Ty had never been one to truly believe such a thing was possible. He had never believed there was any answer to be found by staring into the Flame, but as he looked, he saw it taking on shapes.

  Perhaps it was nothing more than his imagination, but he saw a hint of a dragon. It looked like a giant mouth opening, snarling, but then the flame twisted and extinguished, swallowing it.

  Ty smiled to himself. Maybe the priests were controlling it. He looked over at the priest and found him with his hands in the air still, exalting the Flame.

  The temple had started to fill with others who had come to celebrate the Flame, all of them here for the same purpose and reason. It was a morning ritual for many of these people, though others in the city would come throughout the day.

  He got to his feet and backed toward the wall. He had started to make a circle around the room when he caught sight of something—a familiar black cloak.

  Gayal?

  She was near the center of the temple, kneeling, hands in the air, eyes closed. She celebrated the Flame.

  That wasn’t altogether surprising. There were many people in the kingdom who did, and the king’s Tecal could certainly be one to do so, but he wondered if the king knew that about her.

  Did she know the egg was here?

  He doubted it; otherwise, she would have gone directly to the altar.

  At least it meant the egg wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

  Bingham couldn’t steal in front of the Tecal—but neither could the Dragon Thief move the egg. All he had to do was tell her where to find it.

  Albion first.

  Ty continued slipping along the inside of the wall. He made his way past several of the sculptures, and each time he passed one, he raised his hand, testing to see if any heat emanated from it, but there wasn’t much—just enough for him to feel.

  Had taking the dragon pearls diminished the power of the statues in some way?

  It didn’t seem to have affected the celebration. Ty hadn’t come to the Temple of the Flame often, but he had seen the priests and the way their hands would raise and celebrate the fire, had seen the energy shooting upward, the power of the Flame as they sent it streaking toward the top of the temple. He had seen the way the priests would use that power, demonstrating their control over it to the celebrants. The priests seemed to have the same control as they always had. Nothing had changed.

  Taking the dragon pearls didn’t seem to have made much of a difference, then.

  Why were they scattered around the temple?

  The pearls had surrounded the egg, so maybe they offered a measure of protection for it, or perhaps they were only decorative. He didn’t know, and he didn’t know if he could know without having the ability of the Dragon Touched.

  Ty glanced toward the altar, still moving along the outskirts of the room, when he slammed into somebody. He jerked his head around, stepping back, and looked up to see Albion.

  He smiled at Ty, his calm face filled with a certain warmth. “Ty. You really should watch where you’re going, especially here.”

  Ty looked over at the altar and the Flame before turning his attention back to his brother. “I need to talk to you.”

  “I have to assist with the celebration.”

  Ty shook his head. “I need to talk to you now.”

  Albion frowned. “Why?”

  “Not here,” Ty said.

  Albion pressed his mouth together, frowning slightly and glancing toward the altar. “I suppose I can relinquish my responsibilities for a moment, especially since we have a celebrant of the Flame who is in need of assistance.”

  Albion took him by the elbow and guided him down the narrow hallway. When they reached the stairs, Albion took them carefully, seeming to float up them. He brought Ty down to the room where he was staying and stepped aside as he opened the door, waiting for Ty to enter.

  As he did, Ty noticed that Albion’s table looked much like it had before—stacks of books piled atop it, and an ink bottle resting open with the pen set inside. The bed was neatly made, and the trunk at its foot was closed. Ty imagined his robes of station folded carefully inside. It worried Ty that it still didn’t look like Albion was preparing to leave, as if he had committed to staying regardless of whether Ishantil erupted. Maybe he didn’t care. Maybe the High Priest had been looking for an egg all this time, and was now willing to sacrifice himself—and Albion—in service of that.

  Could he really think his brother served the Dragon Thief?

  As Ty looked around, he wondered if maybe he had it wrong, but after his conversation with Gayal, he still couldn’t shake the thought that maybe it was true. Albion had told him about the places he had visited, and they were all places Gayal had chased the Dragon Thief—and places the High Priest had visited.

  “What is the urgency, Tydornen?”

  Ty motioned to the table and smiled. “Can we sit?”

  “Ty, I’m a visiting priest at the temple. We have many preparations to make for the Asharlath Ceremony. I am pleased you decided to attend. I think you will find it enlightening.”

  “I doubt
it,” Ty muttered.

  Albion looked at him. “You continue to question the Flame.”

  “I’m not going to get into a debate about this. I needed to talk with you. Besides, I’m sure the other priests wouldn’t mind you visiting with your brother for just a moment.”

  Albion sniffed and shook his head. “Unfortunately, you don’t know the other priests. Service to the Flame takes precedence over all else.”

  “I have a question for you,” Ty said. He took a seat on his bed and waited until Albion took a seat at the table. Ty glanced at the door and fidgeted, twisting his hands in his lap. He couldn’t help but feel a bit uneasy.

  “A question for me? If you have a question about the Flame, I’m sure you could ask any of the priests, Ty. Even if I’m gone, the priests would welcome you. They know you are my brother.”

  “Does that matter?”

  “Not particularly. The priests would celebrate with anyone who welcomes the Flame.”

  “I don’t know that I welcome the Flame,” Ty said. “I’ve never had the same faith as you.”

  Even when they were younger, his brother had always been drawn to the Flame. Ty remembered their weekly treks into the city, times when his father and brother would attend the temple, both of them celebrating the same as all the other parishioners inside the temple were celebrating. His brother had looked upon the Flame with awe, but Ty had struggled with it. How could he believe there was some hidden power within it, something that would guide him? Their mother had believed, too, and had tried to guide Ty to the Flame, but he’d resisted.

  Ty struggled because of what he’d seen. How could he believe the Flame would have some purpose for any of them when it seemed that so many within the city suffered? He had seen their struggle, especially on the outskirts, along the western edge near the jungle. They struggled the most, much more so than those along the eastern edge of the city, closer to the rest of the kingdom.

  “You don’t have to welcome the Flame. Fire burns, Tydornen. It will claim you whether or not you choose it.”

  “I don’t want to get into a spiritual debate with you,” Ty said to his brother, looking up and locking eyes with him. This wasn’t the reason he was there. “There’s no reason for us to debate. All I wanted was to ask you a single question.”

  Albion leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands in front of him. When he did, there was a serene look on his face, as if he were going to ask Ty some question about the Flame itself and he would treat him the same way he would treat any of the parishioners, patiently explaining how the Flame could guide them. Ty felt a burning irritation within him, knowing his brother and the kind of person he was.

  Ty thought about the stories he’d heard of the Dragon Thief. Tales of break-ins so daring and impossible that they could not have been completed by any one person or team. He thought of one of the particular break-ins in Yelran, a nearby city. The palace had been broken into and the sculpture that had been claimed was rumored to weigh more than ten men could carry, and supposedly the Dragon Thief had carried it out the front door of the palace. The theft itself was brazen, performed in the middle of the day, then the Dragon Thief had disappeared, as if nothing more than a shadow.

  The Dragon Thief wasn’t a priest.

  He looked at Albion, noting his slightly chubby cheeks, soft features, and his shaggy hair. His brother wasn’t serving a thief. His brother was a Priest of the Flame. It was coincidental that he’d visited the same cities as the Dragon Thief, but that was it—nothing more than a coincidence.

  But…

  He had to ask. Ty needed to know.

  He had to do it in a way that was similar to how Bingham tried to teach his lessons. Bingham had always taught him to try to dig for information in different ways, watching the person as the questions were asked and searching for unspoken answers, but Ty didn’t feel as comfortable as he once would have felt with his brother. It was strange sitting before Albion, thinking seemingly impossible thoughts—thinking he could accuse his brother of something so outrageous.

  “Can you tell me about some of the places you’ve visited?” Ty asked.

  He was curious whether Albion would admit the truth, and if he didn’t, what would Ty even do or say?

  Nothing. But he wanted to know. He wanted to know if his brother would be honest with him, and if his intuition was correct. He wanted to know if the High Priest was truly the Dragon Thief.

  Albion tipped his head to the side, frowning at him. “I have been in the city for the better part of two weeks, and now you want to find out where I have visited? I think the time for the two of us to try to reconnect is past, Tydornen. Unfortunately.”

  Was this Albion’s way of acknowledging that he knew Ishantil was going to erupt and destroy them all? Or was it simply Albion dismissing Ty, telling him that he no longer cared? But Ty already knew his brother didn’t really care. If he had, he wouldn’t have abandoned Ty the way he had, disappearing and leaving him to search for their parents alone.

  “I know the timing isn’t right, but I need to know,” Ty said.

  Albion regarded him. “We have gone where the Flame guides us, where it leads the High Priest. I have been fortunate to serve the Flame in the way I do. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to return to the Asharlath Ceremony. It will soon reach a critical phase, and I must be present.”

  He gathered a necklace and a set of silver rings, then slipped them on.

  Ty debated how hard to push his brother. He thought if he asked the right questions, he might find the truth.

  What did it even matter?

  At this point, all that mattered was getting the egg—and Eastley. His brother had clearly made his own choice, deciding he was comfortable staying in Zarinth as it burned. Ty was not.

  It surprised Ty somewhat that he had already come to terms with leaving. He had fought it for so long, and it seemed strange that he didn’t have time to celebrate it after finally accepting that it was time for him to go.

  Then again, it wasn’t as if Ishantil gave him time to think about it. It was almost as if the Flame were trying to push him to take the next step—leave Zarinth and move on with his life.

  That thought brought a smile to Ty’s face.

  “I hope that smile is because you have decided to follow the Flame,” Albion said, turning back to him, then facing the door. There came a distant trembling from Ishantil, and Ty waited, worried that it wouldn’t pass quickly enough.

  “Much like the Flame has guided you through Ferlith, Isan, and Leth?” Ty watched his brother as he said it and made a point of holding his gaze. “All places that I have come to learn the Dragon Thief has been.”

  His brother didn’t change his expression at all. “Yes. I have heard about this Dragon Thief. A dangerous individual.”

  “That’s what I understand,” Ty said. “And now there are agents of the king looking for him, wanting to find him and ensure that anything he is stealing can be returned.”

  “The king must do what is necessary,” Albion said.

  “He believes that an egg has been stolen this time,” Ty said.

  Ty continued to watch Albion, but as before, there was no change in his expression, nothing to suggest he even knew. Maybe he didn’t see the connection.

  It would be just like Albion to be too caught up in serving the Flame to notice. He looked at Ty so serenely, an unreadable expression on his face—one that couldn’t be faked. Maybe all of this was a mistake. Maybe Ty had just read something into the situation that wasn’t real.

  “Is the High Priest the Dragon Thief?” Ty asked.

  He felt foolish asking, the question sounding outrageous and ridiculous as it hung in the air.

  “Tydornen, he serves the Flame.”

  “That’s not an answer, Albion.”

  “He is the High Priest of the Priests of the Flame. He serves the Flame in that role. He wouldn’t have time to do what you claim.”

  “There are t
wo dangerous people in the city looking for the Dragon Thief: a Tecal by the name of Gayal Holt and a Dragon Touched by the name of Roson James. They are both after the egg—and it was seen inside the temple.”

  Ty might be sharing too much, but he had to somehow get to the truth.

  Albion tipped his head, frowning at Ty. “Inside the temple? Why would it have been here?”

  Ty frowned back and leaned forward, holding his brother’s gaze. “I don’t know. That’s why I came to you. I thought perhaps you might provide some answers.”

  “This isn’t my temple,” Albion said. “If the egg is here, then perhaps one of the local priests has made arrangements. Perhaps it has already been recovered and it will be brought to the king for safekeeping. I’m sure the king feels an urgency to remove any dragon relics like that before Ishantil erupts. Most of the king’s servants have thought it best to depart rather than trust the Flame.”

  Ty could tell his brother was keeping something from him, though he couldn’t tell what it was. This was the first time he thought his brother had lied to him. Maybe he knew about the High Priest—which meant he knew about the Dragon Thief. It bothered Ty, but more than that, it angered him.

  Ty got to his feet. “Be careful, Albion.”

  “You as well, Tydornen.”

  Ty stepped out of Albion’s room, waiting for him to follow, but he didn’t. Albion closed the door instead.

  Ty stood in place for a moment, thinking about how he might help his brother. He wasn’t abandoning Albion—not like Albion had abandoned him. His brother had chosen this. He wanted to be in the city.

  And there was somebody else who needed Ty’s help.

  Ty hurried down the stairs, toward the main part of the temple, and nodded toward Olivia. She had remained seated on a bench, but as soon as he nodded, she got to her feet, slipped back and around, and made her way toward him.

  As she joined him, he pointed to the door, and she headed toward it.

  Ty looked for Gayal among the celebrants, and found her still seated, staring straight ahead.

  Maybe she did know about the egg.

  But if so, why not go after it?