“Your teacher’s name is Miss Lacy,” Amanda said. “She’s been training tamers for thirty years.”
“Tamers?” Ariel didn’t know that word.
“Yeah, that’s what we call the bardic ability to communicate with and control other creatures, like dragons.”
“I don’t control the dragons,” Ariel said. “They’re my friends. I ask them to do me a favor and they do. If they didn’t want to help, I don’t think I could make them. Are you a tamer?”
They went down a flight of steps and at the bottom Amanda said, “No, I’m a psychic.”
“Psychic?” Another word Ariel didn’t know.
“Psychic is what we call bards that can interact with people’s minds. For example, I can sense and control emotions. Bards with abilities like mine have to be constantly aware of what they’re doing, or they might misuse their gift.” Amanda stopped and crouched so her eyes were level with Ariel’s. “The most important thing for every bard to remember is that what we do reflects on all the other bards. If a bard goes around using her power to hurt people then all bards will be mistrusted.”
Ariel didn’t want to hurt anyone, well maybe those bad men that chased her, but other than them she was happy to not bother anyone.
They went out into the yard and the bright sun made her squint. Three girls and two boys stood facing an older woman who looked them over with her hands clasped behind her back. One of the boys had a dog sitting beside him and a girl held an orange-and-white kitten. With her hair pulled back in a tight bun and deep wrinkles creasing her forehead, the older lady didn’t look very nice.
Ariel slowed and Amanda said, “Don’t be afraid of Miss Lucy. She looks stern, but it’s only because she wants her students to do well. She’d take an arrow for any of us. Go on. I’ll see you later.”
Not at all certain about things, Ariel trotted over to the gathering and stood in the rightmost position of the line. Her second little one landed on her right shoulder.
Miss Lucy stopped pacing directly in front of Ariel. “You’ll be the new arrival. Callie tells me you can control dragons. Were they not perched on your shoulders, I’d have my doubts. Never fear. You’ll be a master tamer when your training’s finished.”
Ariel didn’t know what to say so she stayed silent.
“Just so we can see where you’re at, we’ll start with a little game.” Miss Lucy pulled a stick out of her belt and held it up. “Tamsin, call your partner.”
A bronze-skinned girl who wore her hair in an elaborate braid took a heavy glove out of her belt, put it on, and loosed a piercing whistle. A shadow dove out of the sky and landed on the raised glove. It was a brown-and-white bird with a sharp yellow beak, and hard black eyes. Its feathers looked so soft, Ariel wanted to pet them, but wasn’t sure she should.
“The game is simple,” Miss Lucy said. “I’ll throw the stick as high as I can. Whoever brings it back wins. Hawk versus dragon. Understand?”
Ariel hummed to the dragons, weaving her thoughts into the notes. The little ones didn’t have much interest in chasing a stick, but she asked nicely and promised an extra portion of meat at lunch which got them excited.
“Go!” Miss Lucy threw the stick up and toward the wall.
Tamsin whistled and launched her hawk into the sky. Ariel urged her dragon to go and it buzzed away at top speed.
The hawk shrieked and beat its wings harder. It snatched the stick out of the air just ahead of her dragon.
“Yes!” Tamsin pumped her fist.
The little one’s annoyance came through their link. It wanted the extra meat at lunch. Ariel hummed reassurances, telling it what a good job it did and that it could have the meat anyway. It liked that but didn’t like losing to a bird.
As Tamsin’s hawk banked around to return with the stick, Ariel’s dragon zipped in and breathed a puff of fire at the talon grasping the stick. The hawk squawked and dropped it. Her little one snatched it out of the sky and buzzed back, thoroughly proud of itself.
Ariel accepted the stick and rubbed the little one on her brow ridge. She purred like a cat before settling back on her shoulder. It wasn’t until she looked up to return the stick to Miss Lucy that she noticed everyone staring at her.
“What?”
“You cheated!” Tamsin said.
Ariel blinked and looked at Miss Lucy. “You said to get the stick so that’s what I asked her to do.”
“Perhaps it was my fault for not explaining more thoroughly.” Miss Lucy rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Battles between beasts are strictly forbidden here. Though it wasn’t really a battle, when your dragon attacked Tamsin’s hawk, it technically broke the rules. I assumed someone had explained this to you, so the fault is largely mine. It’s important when we’re training that you keep tight control over your partner so things like this don’t happen.”
“I don’t control them,” Ariel said. “We’re friends and they do me favors.”
Miss Lucy shook her head. “You need to free yourself of such a childish notion. You can’t be friends with an animal, you’re their master. You command, they obey. Until you accept that, you can’t be a proper tamer.”
Ariel nearly cried. Why couldn’t anyone understand? She was about to try and explain again, when Miss Lucy let out a sound halfway between a hiss and a hum. She stared at Ariel’s little ones.
A jolt of anger ran from the dragons to Ariel through their connection. They hissed back at Miss Lucy and took to the air.
What was she doing? Miss Lucy kept hissing and humming while tracking the dragons through the air. Every moment the dragons got madder.
“Miss Lucy? I think you should stop. They don’t like whatever you’re doing.”
Her teacher paid no attention. The humming got louder and more insistent.
The dragons dove. They were nearly a blur as they flashed past Miss Lucy.
Blood flew from her cheek where their little claws sliced lines across her cheek. Miss Lucy fell silent and touched her cheek. The dragons hovered in front of her, plumes of smoke rising from their jaws.
“No!” Ariel shouted. “It’s okay. She won’t do it again. Right, Miss Lucy?”
“No, I won’t.”
“See, it’s okay. Come on.” Their anger faded and with a final hiss at Miss Lucy her little ones settled back on her shoulders. “Good dragons.”
Chapter 11
The common room of Moz’s inn was half full and the smell of cooked meat and smoke from the kitchen filled the air. Moz was delighted to find Robess and his brother waiting like he told them. He was less pleased, though not surprised, to see Priscilla as well. The trio had settled in at a corner table as far as they could get from the door and any other diners. It would be a good place to talk once he sent Priscilla on her way home. The librarian didn’t seem to understand that what they were doing was dangerous. The woman seemed to think they were playing a game. He needed to convince her that hanging around might get her killed.
Moz worked his way toward the others. He jostled a couple tables, but one look was enough to convince the guests that they shouldn’t complain. Finally he sat in a hard chair beside Priscilla and across from the brothers.
“You made it back in one piece,” Robess said. “Congratulations. When you went alone to the guard house I had my doubts. Did you learn anything useful about Crow?”
“A little.” Moz turned to Priscilla. “I’m very grateful for everything you’ve done, but it’s time for you to go home. My task is only going to get more dangerous from here. I can’t have your safety on my mind.”
“I can make my own decisions,” Priscilla said. “And I don’t need you worrying about me. I’m in this to the end.”
“You’re not in this at all.” Moz ran a hand through his hair. “You just showed me to an inn. You work in a library for the gods’ sake. If this man Crow isn’t a killer, he certainly has killers on his payroll. Unless you’re willing to die and take me with you, it’s time to bow out.”
; Priscilla crossed her arms and glared at him. He’d have had better luck talking to one of Ariel’s dragons.
“I’d like to leave before I get myself killed,” Abe, the younger brother, said.
Moz offered a faint smile. At least someone had a brain in their head. “Good decision. I just need an address from your brother and you two are free to go. I do recommend finding a new line of work or at a minimum a new employer.”
“What address?” Robess asked.
“The mansion you visited in the wealthy quarter.”
“You’re not going back?” Robess said. “The guards will be looking for you now. You won’t make it a hundred yards before getting caught.”
“I appreciate your vote of confidence. The address?”
“I don’t know exactly,” Robess said. “It was a big house, white with gold trim. Two floors. A tall black fence surrounded it. That’s all I can remember.”
“Okay, thanks.” Moz jerked his head toward the door. “Go on home.”
Unlike Priscilla, the brothers were only too happy to leave his company. Not that Moz blamed them, especially now that he had a better idea what he was up against. It wasn’t just Rondo that wanted Ariel, it was this Dark Sage group. If they already had people in every city, it didn’t take a genius to imagine what they’d do with dragons at their beck and call.
“So what now?” Priscilla asked.
“Now I’m going to bed. It’s been a long day and I need some sleep before I go investigating in the morning. Feel free to sit here as long as you like. Good night.”
Moz stood and made the short walk to the stairs up to his room. The small space held only a lumpy bed and a trunk. He sat on the bed and sighed. Priscilla should get bored in a few hours. He’d head out around midnight to find the mansion Robess described.
Shouldn’t be too hard. How many white-and-gold mansions surrounded by a black fence could there be?
Moz opened his eyes to darkness and silence. Part of his training allowed him to wake pretty much whenever he wanted so that made it nearly midnight. Priscilla had to have gotten bored and gone home by now. Just to be safe, when he rolled out of bed he went to the room’s small window and forced it open. The frame cracked. It sounded like an explosion in the dark. He winced and made a mental note to leave the innkeeper a couple extra coppers to pay for the damage.
He had just room enough to wriggle his broad shoulder through. Moz held on to the ledge and looked around. The street lamps were few and far between in this part of the city. He doubted anyone could see him even if there was someone looking.
He dropped, absorbing the impact with bent knees. When no one called out, Moz turned toward the wealthy district and started jogging. Speed would be his best ally. Keeping to the shadows and off the main street, Moz worked his way up the hill towards the wealthy district. Honest folks were long abed and any criminal that saw him would take one look and move on to easier prey. Moz quickly reached the outskirts of the wealthy district without meeting another soul.
At the edge of the neighborhood he froze and studied the streets. Everything was wide open and well lit. No amount of sneaking would hide him here. The white cobblestones reflected the lamplight making it appear even brighter. How was he going to find the mansion without getting caught?
The answer walked past five minutes later in the form of a guard pair on patrol. The bigger of the two looked like his uniform would fit with enough room to hide Moz’s armor.
He drew both his swords and reversed his grip so the blades ran along his forearms and the skull hilts jutted forward. Most people that saw the heavy skulls thought they were there for intimidation, and they certainly were intimidating, but their main purpose was to serve as bludgeons when needed.
The guards couldn’t have been more relaxed as they made their rounds which meant Pierremont had followed Moz’s advice and kept his threats quiet.
Gathering himself, Moz sprinted up behind the guards.
A double cross swipe brought the iron skulls down on the backs of their heads. He made sure not to swing with his full strength. Nonetheless, both men fell in a heap.
Moz grabbed their collars and dragged them back to the dark area of the street and stripped the bigger man of his tabard. The fit wasn’t perfect, but Moz would pass a casual inspection. Anything more than that and he’d be using his swords again.
Before setting out, Moz relieved the guards of their meager valuables. When they woke up they’d hopefully assume they’d been mugged and conjure up a story about a horde of thieves descending on them and beating them unconscious to explain their defeat.
Satisfied that he’d covered his tracks as well as possible, Moz took a breath and strode confidently out into the light. He marched along like he had every right to be there. Sometimes that aura of confidence alone would keep people from questioning you. A disagreeable snarl and narrow-eyed glare helped as well.
The first two mansions he passed were both painted white, but the first didn’t have a fence and the second had green trim. The third was only a single story. He paused in front of the fourth. The iron fence was black and, toward the rear of the property, through a screen of trees, he spotted the main house; white and gold, just like Robess said.
Reasonably confident that he’d found his target, Moz resumed his patrol. When he reached the corner of the property he turned down a side street. He listened hard for a second before climbing the fence and landing silently inside.
Another pause to listen confirmed that he’d drawn no attention.
So far so good.
Either these people didn’t take security that seriously or they expected the guards to keep everyone away. Moz was just glad for a break going his way for a change, not that he really trusted his luck.
The grounds surrounding the mansion were perfectly manicured and filled with dozens of trees, both evergreen and broadleaf. Moz slipped through the manmade forest like a ghost. In less than a minute he reached the side of the mansion. Most of the many windows were dark, but two on the second floor burned with light. He’d hoped to find everyone asleep, but it wasn’t to be.
Moz shrugged, drew a thin-bladed dagger, and slipped over to the nearest window. A few seconds later he had the latch free and the window open. Inside he could barely make out the silhouette of a bed and the soft breathing of the room’s occupant.
Carefully entering, Moz latched the window and worked his way across the room to the inner door. The sleeping individual never flinched. A moment later he was out in a dark hall. The details were few given the lack of light. It looked like a couple paintings on the wall and a little table between a pair of doors across from him.
Now, if he was involved with a secret society, where would he hide the evidence? Probably upstairs where the light came from. At the very least he could find someone to question.
Moz snuck through the dark mansion until he found a curved staircase leading to the second floor. Keeping close to the wall to avoid any squeaks, he made his way up. At the top, a hall ran left and right. Light seeped from under the third door to his right. That was his target.
When he pressed his ear to the door, no sound emerged. Slowly and gently he tried the handle. It was unlocked. Inch by inch he pressed it down until the bolt was fully withdrawn.
He held his breath and waited. Still no reaction.
Moz eased the door open an inch and looked inside. Crow sat behind an expansive desk and scribbled away on a piece of paper, seeming totally unaware that someone was watching. Something tickled the back of his mind, but this was too good an opportunity to pass up.
He opened the door just enough to slip through, entered, and closed the door behind him. Crow looked up from his paper. “Finally. I’ve been sitting here for hours waiting for you to show up.”
Moz had just time enough to be confused before something heavy slammed into the back of his head and he knew no more.
Moz came slowly awake, the back of his head screaming. He had a new level of empath
y for the many people he’d bashed over the years. It might’ve been kinder if he’d just killed them. Before he could open his eyes, he heard voices.
“I’m telling you we should just kill him.” That was Crow. And the “him” he referred to was no doubt Moz. That was certainly not the sort of pronouncement you wanted to wake up to.
“You read the message from the citadel as well as I did.” Moz nearly sat up. That was Priscilla. What was she doing here talking to Crow? “Do you really want to ignore our orders? Especially an order from Most High Black.”
“He’s dangerous. Leaving a ranger alive is just asking for trouble.”
“If we kill him and someone gets curious about where he went, any competent necromancer can summon his spirit which will tell them all about us.” Priscilla spoke with such contempt he wondered if what he’d been told about Crow being in charge of the city was true. “That’s why the most high wants him kept alive.”
“I’m aware,” Crow said. “But there are ways to kill someone and destroy their souls as well.”
“Are such means available to you?”
“No.”
“Then why bother bringing it up? It’s no wonder no cadre has invited you to join.”
“No one’s rushing to claim you either,” Crow said.
“Ha! I’ve been a member for less than a year. You’ve been here for six. I think if someone was going to call you up to join, they’d have done it by now. Even that idiot Rondo has joined a cadre.”
“Don’t remind me.” Moz had never heard anyone sound as disgusted as Crow. “And the most high’s cadre at that. What could he possibly have to offer Lord Black?”
“Beats me,” Priscilla said. “Maybe he stumbled onto a rare and valuable artifact. How’s that saying go? Even a blind squirrel occasionally finds an acorn.”
Crow chuckled. “Rondo is certainly the blindest squirrel I’ve ever met. Perhaps our guest can shed some light.”
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