“Yeah, but seriously. I’m just saying you have a real police-y vibe about you.”
She shrugged. “Why does it matter?”
“Maybe I have a problem with overbearing authority figures,” I replied.
“Hah.” Suri snorted. “Then you’re just gonna love the Volod. He can be a bit of a knob.”
Night had fallen by the time we left the workshop and walked to the roadside stable. Suri unhitched Cutthroat and saddled up, while I searched anxiously for Karalti. I could sense her nearby, but... “Hey, girl, where are you? Are you alright?”
“I’m right behind you,” Karalti replied.
I swept my gaze over the darkened street, over the roofs, and then the stable. “Uhh... where?”
There was a shuffle from the alley beside the stable building. My head turned at the sound, and even though I knew she was there, I couldn’t see anything - until suddenly, I could. Karalti had assumed dragonloaf form on the ground: legs bunched up underneath her, foreclaws tucked under her chest, her wings held close to her body. But it was like staring at an optical illusion. She seemed to phase in and out of the darkness. The parts of her obscured by shadow disappeared entirely.
“Whoa.” I stumbled away from the stable as Karalti stood up tall, shaking out her leathery wings.
“What’s that?” Suri called as she rode Cutthroat out into the street. “Oh. Wow.”
Chapter 19
Karalti had grown again. As she paced out soundlessly into the open, my eyes widened.
The dragons of the Skyrdon had holographic hides that flexed under light – some kind of aerial camouflage that made them harder to spot while flying. Karalti’s scales were on a completely different level. The parts of her immersed in shadow simply vanished, as if they had turned invisible.
From what I could see of her, I was guessing that she was now about thirty feet long, including her tail. Her head was now held up on a long, elegant neck. Her horns were longer and thinner, and crested around the back of her her skull like a fan - or a crown. Thick seams of opal glinted and shimmered between her scales. She was slimmer and smaller than the fully grown adult dragons I’d seen at the Eyrie, but Karalti now had the same regal bearing, the same graceful raptorine build as her elders. But even more so. Young as she was, there was an arresting presence to her that the other dragons hadn’t had. It was the charisma that her mother would have been able to manifest, had she been free.
My heart rose into my throat, part pride, part confusion. I scrolled back through my notifications, and sure enough, there it was. She’d hit Level 5 somehow. My Princess Tidbit was already becoming a Queen.
“Karalti...” I approached her, hands held up. She crooned as I came closer, bent her muzzle down, and touched the end of her snout to my palm.
“I’m sorry I got mad,” she said. Her voice was still youthful, but no longer childish. It was deepening, having moved from adorable-but-sometimes-irritating shrillness to a silken soprano. She sounded like a thirteen-year old girl… fourteen at the most.
“It’s okay, Tidbit,” I replied. I wasn’t actually sure if it was or not, but I’d vowed to myself to let Karalti grow into her own person… dragon. Dragon-person. She had to have some independence if she was to be free.
“It’s not. I ran because I was embarrassed and scared.” She hung her head. “But after I took wing, I remembered your encouragement… and I remembered the promise I made to you.”
“Promise?” I lay a hand on the side of her throat. The intense heat of her body radiated through my glove. Twin heartbeats thundered under my fingertips: one fast, the other slow.
“I told you I’d become the strongest. And when I felt more grown up, I remembered, and I listened to what you said. I embraced the suck.”
I grinned, and then the grin turned into a chuckle.
The dragon crooned in her throat. “I went and hunted the monsters outside the city wall. I accepted that I’m not a baby any more. I have to grow.”
I rubbed my hand down the length of her jaw, massaging the powerful, tense muscles that connected her head and neck. I couldn’t stop marveling at the difference a single level had made to her. “You’re… you’re beautiful.”
Karalti arched her head and shoulders against me, like a marking cat. The old mischief was back in her eyes. “When I levelled, several of my Words spoke up in me. My Blood tells me that I’m ready to take my first Path. Can you help me?”
“Of course.” My chest swelled with an odd feeling. Pride? Sorrow? I wasn’t sure. Barely a week ago, Karalti had been my little Tidbit. And now? It was weird to be sentimental over a virtual pet evolving like this – I knew this is what she was supposed to do – but I couldn’t help it. I had the feels. “Karalti... I’m so proud of-”
“Hey, Hector. I don’t want to bust your bubble or anything, but Cutthroat’s getting a bit narky over here,” Suri called from across the street.
I wasn’t sure what ‘narky’ meant, but given what I knew of Cutthroat, I could guess. I looked back to see Suri holding the hookwing’s head back as she pranced and snapped in frustration, dancing from one foot to the other. She tried to turn her head and bite Suri on the leg. The Berserker whapped her, and Cutthroat squawked in irritation. Her affection for Suri apparently only went so far.
“Jeez. Guess the honeymoon’s over.” I rested a hand against the base of Karalti’s neck. “Are you still okay with me riding on your back?”
“Yeah!” The dragon watched the hookwing’s antics with quiet, predatory amusement, the tip of her tail lashing in and out of visibility.
“Then you.. uhh… you’re going to have to crouch down a little,” I said. “You got taller, remember?
Karalti yarped a saurian laugh, then bent down and put her foreclaws on the ground. I tried to remember how Knight-Commander Arnaud and the others had mounted their dragons. They climbed up their wings, but Karalti’s wings still looked a bit delicate for me to do that.
“You could use your Jump ability?” she suggested.
“Oh. Right.” I tensed, and triggered Jump. I leaped up lightly onto her back, dropping into a crouch as I landed. “So, we’re going to see the Volod. You should be able to come into the palace with us. After that, it’s training time.”
“As you wish. I’ve already eaten, but not enough to be earthbound,” she replied, starting off.
“Do I want to know what you had for dinner?”
“Nope. Probably not.”
Vulkan Keep was a cave castle hewn from the tough, brittle, water-rich rock of Mount Racosul, the dead volcano that rose over Taltos. To get there, you had to leave Taltos from the Temple District and travel up Mount Racosul along a heavily guarded switchback road. The entry to the Keep’s gatehouse was across an arched bridge over a small chasm of dark, swift water. I didn’t know a huge amount about castles – pretty much everything I’d learned was from playing tabletop RPGs – but I could tell that no one was breaking into Vulkan Keep without some serious firepower. The outermost barrier - the curtain wall - had small windows and plenty of murder holes and other defensive features. The battlements bristled with ballistae, slings, and spikes - a monolithic ‘fuck you’ to any would-be invaders. I wasn’t sure that even dragons would be of much use here, because the majority of the Keep was inside the mountain. It was no wonder Taltos had been able to hold its own against an entire empire without falling.
We rode through the towering iron gates of the Keep with an escort, who left us once we reached the entry to the inner castle. Black and white marble floors swept us into the Great Hall, which was entrenched in the cave system interwoven with the palace. The Great Hall reminded me of a cathedral vault: Black and red Corvinus family banners hung from the walls and ceiling, which receded up into inky darkness far above. Sweeping red-carpeted stairs led up to a tall throne, currently unoccupied. All of the doors in here were big enough that Karalti could join us.
She padded behind Suri and I as a servant led us through several hallwa
ys, rang a little bell, and then opened the hidden door. Andrik was sitting in an overstuffed scarlet armchair in front of a roaring fireplace, his boots propped in front of the fire. He was wearing his crown, a dark steel and ruby circlet. An eagle in a hood slept on a perch beside his left hand, its head tucked back against the top of its wing. Across the room were two other men. The High Forgemaster sprawled on a gilt golden chair that barely contained his bulk. Father Petko Matthias sat on a smaller wooden chair, smoking his pipe. He smiled when he saw Karalti.
“Good grief.” Andrik unfolded his hands from his belly, sitting up straight in his chair. “For a moment, I thought you’d brought your hookwing into the Keep, but then I saw her wings. Suri, and... Hector, was it?”
“Yeah. I mean... yes, Your Majesty.” I cleared my throat a little awkwardly. The firelight dancing off the gems in his circlet caught my eye, and I noticed that they glowed in a way that reminded me strongly of the gem burning a hole in my Inventory.
Suri bowed from the neck. “Your Majesty. We have learned the identity of the killer and obtained evidence of his identity.”
“Really?” Toth shifted up and leaned forward.
“Who is it?” Andrik sat up straighter. “I heard there was a battle at the orphanage... and that you did not arrive in time to stop him. You have not bought me a head, so I assume he lives.”
Suri and I looked at each other. She began to step forward, but I blurted it out first. “His name is Kanzo. He is a Master Artificer and-”
“Mercurion.” Andrik’s dark eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. “Kanzo is the artisan we commission our mana-powered carriages from. And you’re certain that he is the murderer?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. And I would like to emphasize that he is acting alone. But the situation isn’t as simple as a single depraved killer running wild.” I watched the Volod uncertainly. As his ringed hands clenched the arms of the throne, I remembered that this man had ultimate power over what happened to us in Vlachia. It felt like staring down a lion. “He is being blackmailed into committing the murders.”
“An assassin is an assassin,” Father Matthias said heavily.
“I would hear the circumstances anyway.” Andrik waved him down. “But first, the evidence. How can you prove what you have discovered?”
I took the honeybee necklace and gem from my Inventory. Suri procured the papers. She handed them to me, and I passed them to the Volod, who barely even looked at the necklace or papers - just the gem.
“Where did you find this?” His voice was suddenly very tight and very formal.
I glanced at Suri again. I had no idea how to handle pissed off kings, and clearly, neither did she. By the way he was swelling up, I really didn’t want to tell him about Rin. She’d be stretched over a rack before the night was through.
“He dropped them all when he escaped the orphanage,” I lied. “I got a few blows in before he escaped out the window, and cut the bag he was wearing.”
[Bluff failed!]
“Do not lie to me, Tuun. I am not a stupid man.” Andrik looked up at me piercingly. “Speak the truth. This is your last chance.”
“He was keeping a secret laboratory that he hid from everyone he knew,” Suri said, butting in. “He was trying to create a new Mercurion child by himself.”
“That is an extreme perversion by the rules of their society.” Father Matthias spoke up again. “And that is what I assume is being used to blackmail him?”
“Yes,” I replied.
“There is no way he could have gotten this gem.” Andrik stood, a slim silhouette in front of the fire, and held the stone up to the light. “And yet... somehow he has.”
I crossed my arms. “What is it, Your Majesty?”
“This is a Corvinus Ruby,” Andrik said. “A gem exclusively collected by my House. It is an extraordinarily rare form of mana crystal. There is only one known cache of it in the world.”
“In Vlachia?”
“No. In Dakhdir.” Andrik gave Suri a little nod. “A mine with a secret location that only those of the House Blood know. The House of Corvinus learned this secret when my ancestor Izemir the Splendid went on crusade to Dakhdir. These gems helped him become the first of our House to rule Vlachia.”
“Other than being rare, does it have any magical purpose?” Suri asked.
“Yes. Corvinus Rubies have a single, unique property that is unheard of in other forms of crystal mana.” Andrik touched the gems in his crown. “They can store memories and knowledge. If you know how to access those memories, they can be replayed forever. It is how we earned our House motto: ‘What the Raven learns, he shall never forget’.”
“That explains why Kanzo would want them,” I said, looking over at Karalti. She had been utterly silent since arriving in the room, resting back on the base of her tail. “To give his creation the capacity for memory and recollection.”
Suri nodded. “Or to store his own memories. He’s a Master Craftsman. He’d want to transmit everything he knows to his successor.”
“It is absolutely forbidden for commoners to possess one of these stones.” Andrik paced, smoldering with rage. “This disrespect to the Crown... only a non-human is capable of such insolence. I should burn the Silverskins’ hive to the ground.”
“This man was acting in secret, Your Majesty,” I said quickly. “His own people would have killed him if they’d known what he was doing. This was his crime alone.”
“Khors’ breath... I know my own people better than you do, Tuun, and I’ve punished my subjects for less than what you just said.” The Volod snapped back.
Karalti’s eyes narrowed, and her head came forward, neck rippling like a snake’s. I lay a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
Toth cleared his throat, glancing at the dragon. “Your Majesty…”
“Your Serene Highness, the Herald of Matir means no offense,” Matthias said smoothly. He was refilling his pipe, and did not look up at either of us as he spoke. “It is the nature of the Black God to contest and challenge, in order to provoke us to our height of intelligence and reason.”
Andrik grunted, but the words seemed to calm him down. His pacing slowed.
Distraction was probably the best tactic right now, so I nodded and moved on. “Where could Kanzo have gotten a collection of these rubies, your Majesty?”
“Were this stone cut and polished, I’d have said that this Keep is the only possible location it could have come from,” Andrik replied testily. “But it is uncut. Therefore, the only place it could come from is the workshop where these gems are processed. The Royal Jeweler is a human Artificer by name of Stefin Milosevic. These stones must be carefully worked by a specialist because of their mana content.”
“Then we know who we need to see.” Suri nodded curtly. “We’ll speak to him straight away.”
Andrik shook his head. “Not alone, you won’t.”
Some system messages and two quest notifications popped up - one that I was expecting, and one I was not.
[You have earned 100 EXP!]
[You have gained 200 silver Rubles!]
[Congratulations! You are Level 11! You have 2 unassigned ability points and 6 unassigned skill points!]
Quest Update: The Slayer of Taltos
After returning with your evidence to the Volod, he has identified the gemstone you found as a Corvinus Ruby: a rare, magically-charged gemstone hoarded by the ruling dynasty of Vlachia. Your next stop - Stefin Milosevic, the Royal Jeweler, whose workshop is in the Market District. You must question him.
Reward: 75 EXP, 50 gold Olbia.
Special: You must remain within range of Volod Andrik Corvinus III.
Quest Updated: Restore the Spear of Nine Spheres
Learn about the Ravensblood Ruby, Herald. Discover its location and properties.
The second one made me swallow nervously. There was no reward, no conditions, no details... nothing. Just those two lines. It wasn’t part of the viral questline seeded by Ororgael. There was only
one being in Archemi who could assign a quest and usually referred to me as ‘Herald’. Ye Olde God of Darkness himself, Matir.
“I will summon my escort and ready my mounts,” the King said stiffly. “We will ride to Stefin’s. I will have words with him.”
“Your Majesty? Is that wise?” Matthias stood. So did Toth.
“I have decreed it. Our meeting is at an end.” Andrik slashed a hand. He stared at Suri, then at me. “You will be accompanying me, adventurers. And the dragon. My jeweler will not dare tell a lie in her presence, even if he dared to tell one in mine.”
Chapter 20
It was nearing ten P.M when we left Vulkan Keep. Suri and I rode with the Volod and his Kingsguard on destrier hookwings, war mounts with the same large, solid builds as Cutthroat. Andrik had shed his finery for a flame-scorched suit of armor and a fine, heavy cloak with a deep hood, which he kept pulled up as we traveled. Suri and I rode at the back of the procession, partially so that they could lead us to the right place, partially so that Cutthroat didn’t maul anyone, and partially so that we could speak privately.
“This stinks,” Suri muttered. “The whole damn thing stinks. There is no way we’re coming out ahead on this quest.”
“What makes you think that?” I said.
She pressed her lips together, and instead of speaking, she P.M’d me. “Andrik. Who else?”
“Yeah. He’s awful twitchy.” I also grimaced. “Thinking about backing out?”
“Not a chance.”
I snorted. “How’d you get involved in this mess, anyway?”
Suri looked down at the back of Cutthroat’s head, scowling.
“Listen,” she said. “I’m not going to talk about my past. Not to you, not to anybody. If you’re not happy about it, too bad. I don’t owe you shit.”
I thought about that for a couple of minutes, gazing out over the sea of lights shining up from the city below.
Before HEX, while I was out on tour on the Crescent Front, I’d fought beside, rode beside, and cared for men and women who’ve been through Hell. Their trauma had eaten through them like toxic waste, and I counted myself beyond lucky to have come away from the Total War without crippling injuries or bad PTSD. Something about my psychological makeup and the experiences I went through had spared me. Suri may not have been so fortunate, so it was time to man up and eat some crow.
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