Within the Dragon's Jaw (The Dragon Thief Book 2)

by D. K. Holmberg

  “I don’t know what I deserve.”

  “You deserve happiness, Ty. If I know anything, it’s that you should have been allowed to find that. Unfortunately, your family took that from you. I don’t know why they did, and I don’t know that I care. What I know is that you had some part of you stolen, and because of that you no longer get to have the life that you could have had. Now you live this life, such as it is. Now you have become a thief.”

  “Maeve…”

  “You don’t need to argue with me about it. I’m well aware of what kind of things you’ve been involved in. I’ve been checking in on you, Tydornen. I wanted to make sure that you are well. At least as well as you can be. I have been looking to see if I could reach you again. Besides, it’s not like he’s going to keep any word from me. He sent you to me in the first place. He made sure I knew that you went back to him. And I’ve been checking.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “Because I care for you.” Maeve tapped on the table and glanced at the kitchen. “I’m afraid I don’t have your old bed any longer. I would appreciate it if you would clean up before getting some rest. The carpet near the hearth should be comfortable enough for one night.”

  Ty just nodded.

  Maeve tottered back to the back of the house, disappearing through the doorway.

  He finished his tea, sipping it slowly.

  Here he had avoided coming to visit her all this time, and maybe that had been his greatest mistake.

  One of the things that had been challenging while working with Bingham and all of the people that he worked with was that he never knew who to trust. Bingham had known him when he was young, and had known Ty’s mother, but that didn’t mean that he trusted him. Ty had a suspicion that Bingham had other motives for what he did. More than what Bingham was willing to acknowledge, and certainly enough of a motive that Ty knew to be careful with him. Especially when it came to the kind of work Bingham did with relics.

  There weren’t any others in the city he could trust.

  Maybe Maeve. She had taken him in, tried to train him, and he had abandoned her.

  Perhaps she was right. It was possible that chasing after his parents had stolen something from him that he had never considered before. By going after them, by always trying to see where they were and what more he might be able to uncover, could he have lost some aspect of himself?

  Maybe his parents were the true thieves, not him and his brother.

  Even if that were the case, and he couldn’t deny that it might be, it didn’t change that he still wanted to find them. And now that Albion was imprisoned, he had more he needed to do. He had to help his family. If he didn’t, who would?

  Ty cleaned up the kitchen, those thoughts rolling through his mind. When he settled down on the carpet, tucking the satchel with the dragon pearls up against him, feeling a strange surge of warmth radiating from it, a different question came to him, and it was one that he didn’t have any good answer to.

  If the situation was reversed, would Albion come for him?

  He wouldn’t. He’d left Ty here.

  Starving and alone.

  Ty stared into the darkness for a long time with those thoughts rolling through his mind, mixing with the pain in his shoulder, and came no closer to coming up with an answer.

  Chapter Six

  The pain in Ty’s shoulder had eased by the time he woke, and he got up well before darkness had faded. He looked around the inside of Maeve’s home. Visiting brought back memories of who he had been when he was still trying not to be a thief. It left him wondering what he might have done had he not gone to Bingham and stayed. It was not as if he was any closer to finding answers about his parents when working with Bingham. He might have more money to buy secrets from Maggie, but wouldn’t the old merchant have helped him regardless?

  Maybe Maeve would have as well.

  After saying his goodbyes and grabbing and securing the dragon pearls, Ty clutched his pack, making sure that he had his other markers in his pocket, and shuffled over to the door. He glanced back, looking one more time before leaving.

  Perhaps there would be another time when he would visit with Maeve. Another time when he would finally be able to stop chasing this dream of finding his parents—and now the new concern of finding his brother. Perhaps another time.

  He stepped out into the street, glancing around the darkness before starting off. It was early morning. He had the dragon pearls, and he needed to decide what to do about the Priests of the Flame. It was time to plan his next move, whatever that might be.

  There was only one person he could go to help him with that.

  As he wandered through the streets, he found his gaze drifting along, sweeping along the traffic, and took in the sight of people already up for the day. Bakers and hunters and even farmers who lived on the outskirts headed into town for whatever resources they might need. Otherwise, the city was quiet. There was an energy to Zarinth at all times, and the energy in the morning, especially the early morning like this, was one of anticipation. It was as if the city itself lingered, waiting to see what might happen, holding its breath in expectation for the coming day.

  He found himself drawn toward the temple as he made his way to Bingham, though he didn’t linger there long. He swept his gaze along the temple, looking up to see glowing from the top of the temple, the Flame that summoned all who followed it to worship.

  He wondered what the priests might think of the one who had attacked him.

  Unless they had sent that person.

  Ty didn’t know, and he didn’t know if the priests were in on whatever was taking place. The only thing he knew was that he had to find out. It meant he was going back into the temple.

  He clutched the satchel with the dragon pearls against his side.

  The last time he had been inside the temple, he had claimed these dragon pearls for himself, and yet now that he was thinking about returning, it was more for information rather than for anything he might steal.

  He weaved through the streets, heading away from the temple, making his way toward the outskirts of the city, heading toward Bingham and his home. It was early enough that he didn’t expect him to be up, but…

  His thoughts trailed off as he looked into the distance.

  Smoke.

  Something was wrong.

  Ty approached carefully. Fire in the city wasn’t entirely uncommon. Zarinth celebrated the Flame, so there were plenty of places that lit fires, simply to encourage more of the Flame, though what he saw was unusual. Typically those who celebrated the Flame didn’t light fires like this. They were smokeless, at least as much as any fire could be.

  The farther he went, the denser the smoke became, and the more certain he was that something was amiss. Worse, the farther he went, the more certain he was that the flames came from the exact direction he was heading.

  Bingham.

  He jogged forward, heading toward his section of the city, and picked up speed until he was racing, suddenly panicking about what might’ve happened. When he neared the street, the smoke had thickened considerably. He could barely breathe. He wrapped his scarf around his mouth, using that to breathe through, but his eyes watered from the thickness of the smoke.

  He crept forward, noticing that there was a growing crowd around him, people who had come from inside, people who were now running from the smoke—and the flames.

  The flames in front of him drew him forward.

  His heart hammered. It couldn’t be his imagination. It had to be coming from Bingham’s shop, which meant that…

  Ty darted forward, and he reached the space where Bingham’s shop was.

  Flames engulfed it. The smoke poured out from it, thick and billowy, and it was almost too much for him to even approach. Ty backed away, trying to get his bearings, trying to figure out what else was going on, but he couldn’t.

  A shout near him caught his attention, and Ty turned toward it. He found a woman hunched over, tea
rs streaming down her eyes, the smoke making it difficult to make out anything else about her.

  “What happened?”

  The woman looked up, coughing. “My son. He went after someone we saw starting the fire. I don’t know what happened to him.”

  Someone had started the fire intentionally?

  Ty shook his head. “Where is your son?”

  The woman pointed down the street.

  “He’s back there. I couldn’t get to him. Please. You have to help him.”

  How was Ty supposed to help this woman if he had been forced away? Then again, Ty had been abandoned by his family. He couldn’t leave this woman, someone who wanted to rescue her child, while fire blazed in front of her.

  Maybe he had to do something.

  If this was arson, started because of what he had done and the fact that he had taken the dragon relic, shouldn’t he help?

  “I will do what I can,” Ty said.

  He cursed himself. What was he thinking, trying to offer to help, especially as he had no idea what he was doing here? He glanced over at Bingham’s shop. The flames swallowed it, making it difficult for him to see much of anything, so if Bingham was inside there was no way to get to him.

  Besides, he couldn’t leave this poor woman and her son. It was bad enough losing his parents. He wondered how terrible it would be for a parent to lose a child.

  Ty grabbed the woman by the arm and pulled her along the street. The woman fought, but Ty held on tightly to her wrist. “If I am going to get your son, I’m going to need you to help me.”

  “I can’t get any closer. I can’t get to him.”

  This mother wanted to do all that she could for her son.

  But not like his.

  Ty glanced along the street. Why did it have to be him? Why couldn’t there be one of the Dragon Touched?

  But they hadn’t come. Maybe they didn’t care about a fire in this section of town. Maybe they wouldn’t come at all.

  Finally, he let out a frustrated breath. “You have to show me where he is,” he said.

  The woman pointed down the street.

  “Which building?” Ty asked.

  “Small building. The flames weren’t inside, but the heat… the heat.”

  He released the woman’s arm and started down the street, sweeping his gaze along it. Most of these buildings were shops, so having a fire at this time of day, while devastating, typically didn’t mean that there were people who would be trapped inside, but this woman and her child…

  He listened. He heard no screams, no cries, no moans, or anything to suggest there was someone inside. There was only the crackling flames. There! A soft groaning.

  And then he heard a shout That was behind him. Something creaked and snapped, the flames inside popping, leaving Ty to know that it wouldn’t be long before the entire building collapsed. How long would it be before the rest of these buildings collapsed inward as well?

  Not long enough for Dragon Touched to come and put out the flames.

  He stopped at one of the buildings, listening. This one was unmarked, not a merchant of any kind, not a shop like Bingham’s shop, but he couldn’t tell if this was the woman’s home.

  There was no sound inside.

  Ty tested the door and found it unlocked.

  He kicked in the door and had to jump back. Smoke poured out, and he coughed, covering up his nose before he risked breathing in even more of the foul and dark smoke.

  “Is there anyone in there?”

  There was no response. He backed away. Which building did he need to go to? As he swept his gaze along, he couldn’t tell. He needed to keep moving, though. He needed to keep searching. He needed to figure out…

  A cry came from behind him.

  It was small, weak, thin, and it sounded like a child.

  It came from across the street.

  Ty raced across the street toward what appeared to be a seamstress’s shop. He had even visited once before. How much time did the child have?

  The flames continued to crackle, radiating heat, pushing him back. What was he thinking?

  What he was thinking was that this fire might’ve been started because of some role he had played. That was why he needed to do this. He couldn’t just leave.

  The woman’s plea came back to him. That was what he was thinking. He was here to help a woman save her child. How could he do anything else?

  He tested the lock and nearly burned his hand.

  He kicked it.

  The door snapped open, and he leaned in. “Is anyone in here?”

  “Help!”

  The voice came from the back of the building. Ty clenched his jaw. The smoke coming out of the shop was intense, but he thought he could get inside. There was no fire, though there had been enough heat to scald his hand as he touched the door. That suggested that whatever else, there was something inside.

  He couldn’t leave this child in here.

  Ty wrapped his cloak around himself, holding the satchel of dragon pearls tight against him, and he darted forward. He couldn’t see much of anything. The smoke was thick, almost as if it were breathed out by some dragon trying to keep him from getting inside.

  “Where are you?”

  There was no answer.

  “Hello?”

  “Help!”

  This came from the back, so Ty slipped forward and moved through the store. He bumped into something, though with the smoke around him it was difficult to make out much of anything. He continued moving, trying to slip along the floor, trying to get farther back into the home section of the store to see where the child might be, but with each step he had to feel his way forward, and he was afraid that he wasn’t going to be able to figure out where this child was.

  “Where are you?”

  “Help!”

  Irritation bubbled up within him. Not only had he been shot in the back the night before, but now Bingham’s shop had been burned? It wasn’t only Bingham’s shop, though. It was others, but it was Bingham’s shop that troubled him the most.

  He kicked through something that got in his way. An entire wall fell.

  “You have to help me,” he said. “I need to know where you are.”

  “Help!”

  The voice came from close by.

  Ty hurried. The smoke had intensified, and though he wasn’t breathing it in—or he had adjusted to it—the heat around him had started to intensify. If he waited too much longer, the heat was going to overwhelm him, making it impossible to get to the child.

  If he failed at getting the child when he had gotten so close…

  No.

  He was going to get him.

  Ty was close enough now, and he could practically tell he was here.

  He had to follow what he’d heard before.

  “Listen,” he cried out. “My name is Ty. I’m here to help you. I need to find you though, so I need you to guide me to you, or I need you to come to me. Either follow the sound of my voice or help me find you.”

  There was no answer.

  Ty tripped and fell.

  When he did, he discovered that the smoke was a little bit thinner here, and he crawled forward, able to see the hallway. He crawled as quickly as he could, berating himself for his foolishness in coming in here, but at the same time he felt as if he needed to do something for the child who might be trapped here.

  He reached the doorway.

  When he got to it, he reached up, trying to find an opening, but there was none.

  It was locked.

  “Hello?”

  There was no answer.

  Ty got to his feet. The smoke was thicker. He coughed again, his eyes immediately watering. He slammed his shoulder into the door.

  It didn’t open.

  He grabbed for his dragon-bone dagger and slammed it into the lock and twisted.

  He didn’t fear for the dragon bone. Dragon bone wouldn’t crack.

  Something strange still happened.

  The blade
had taken on a soft glowing light, and it was warm, as if it were trying to absorb the light and heat from inside the burning building.

  It didn’t burn his hand, though. He pushed open the door, slipping the dragon-bone dagger back into its sheath before he had a chance to think much about what he had seen, and he looked inside. The voice had come from here. He was certain of it.

  “Hello?”

  There was no sign of the child.

  He couldn’t see much of anything. The smoke was too thick and too dense to make anything out, and so he dropped down to the floor again, crawling forward. It was a bedroom. There was a bed nearby, a dresser off to the side, and a washbasin resting on the floor.

  A towel draped over the washbasin, practically settling inside it, though he didn’t know if the child was here. Ty reached the bed and felt along it.

  There.

  He found a motionless form.

  He grabbed at it, pulling, and as he did they suddenly started fighting.

  “Easy,” Ty whispered.

  He pulled the child across the floor.

  He couldn’t have been more than five or six. Ty’s parents had left him when he was closer to fifteen, an adult, but something had changed for him at that point. Losing them had caused him to regress. How could it not? This boy was still a boy. He still had a chance. He was tiny, small enough that he cradled him in his arms and dipped the towel in the washbasin, using that to cover his mouth and nose as he started back toward the door.

  The smoke was still too thick for him to see much of anything, but as he slipped through here, he could hear something cracking, groaning, then an explosion of heat thundered toward him.

  Ty reacted, throwing his elbows up as if to block it.

  Strangely, the smoke billowed away from him when he did.

  “Is there a back way out?”

  The boy had fallen silent, motionless. He cradled him close as he struggled, trying to find another way to go. There had to be another way out.

  Ty couldn’t head back toward the main part of the building. If the flames were erupting out there, there would be no chance to escape, so he was going to have to find another way.