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

by D. K. Holmberg

  He stayed low, though holding onto the boy made that difficult.

  He continued through the building, feeling his way with one hand and holding onto the boy as tightly as he could, trying to keep him clutched against his chest while he searched.

  He reached the wall.

  No door here, just a wall.

  Given everything else that he had seen inside this building, especially with the flames crackling along the floorboards, creeping up and threatening to overwhelm the building, he was surprised there were no flames here.

  He kicked at it. The wall cracked.

  He pushed on the wall again. The boy moaned softly, the only movement that he made. Ty had to get them out of here, had to get the boy to a healer—maybe even to Maeve.

  Not that he expected Maeve to take this child in. Maybe the boy’s mother wouldn’t even want him to help anymore. Ty kicked, and the wall creaked again. Another kick. That was all he needed.

  Something splintered and Ty stepped out.

  The air wasn’t any cooler outside, though it was a little clearer.

  Ty darted forward, keeping his arm covering his nose. He followed an alley, looking for an opening, clear sky, anything that would guide him toward safety.

  Then in the distance, he saw an opening. It was like a light at the end of a tunnel, calling to him. He raced forward, and when he neared he realized his mistake.

  Not a light at the end of the tunnel.

  Flames at the end of the alley.

  Ty turned back.

  Behind him came more flames.

  He was trapped.

  Chapter Seven

  Ty shifted the boy in his arms. The smoke seemed as if it circled around him, and he coughed, trying to clear his lungs. He needed to move up to clearer air, but his arms ached, and the shoulder injury still throbbed. By the time he reached the end of the alley, he could barely hold onto him. The pain coursed along his body and left his shoulder where the crossbow bolt had pierced him in complete agony.

  He wasn’t going to be able to go much farther.

  The flames from the other end of the alley continued pressing forward, getting closer and closer. It reminded him of the heat from the lava lake, the power of the flames pressing upon him, the energy that came off of Ishantil. It was powerful, and it seemed as if the dragon pearls in his pouch grew increasingly warm. Perhaps he should have discarded them, but how could he?

  The back side of the alley was all stone crammed close together, and he tested one door after another, feeling for some way out, but they were all locked. Maybe he could force his way in, though he didn’t know if it would even be possible to do so.

  He had used his dragon-bone dagger to break into other places. He neared one of the doors. It was a thick, oaken door, stained almost black, and it was slick. He shoved the dragon-bone dagger into the lock, twisting it briefly.

  The dagger didn’t turn. He withdrew it, prying into the door handle, then kicked open the door. Flames poured out from inside.

  Not that way.

  He pulled the door closed again, shutting it and keeping himself trapped in the alley.

  Flames were coming from every direction.

  He wouldn’t be able to go anywhere. He had to figure out something; he didn’t have much time left. The flames continued to crawl along the alley, and they were getting closer.

  The smoke grew thicker, pouring toward him.

  Ty tried another door on the alley, but much like the last one flames and smoke poured out the moment that he did. He reached into the flames and pulled the door closed again then searched for another way out.

  There would have to be another way out.

  Ty hurried along the street, staying as low as he could. The air was a little bit clearer when he crouched down. The smoke drifted up, but he had to breathe shallowly.

  He paused for a moment, checking on the boy. Lessons Maeve had taught him came back to him, showing him how to assess for injuries. He wasn’t skilled at all, but at least he could see if he was breathing, and he could tell whether or not his heart was beating.

  “Focus on feeling for the heat of life within the person,” Maeve had taught him.

  “The heat of life?”

  He remembered her looking across the table at him, at the injured elderly man they had been hired to help. She leaned down, her face tilted so that she was pressed close to the man, and her eyes flicked up at him. “Life carries with it heat. When it’s missing, the heat leaves. You must find that heat. In the breath of their lungs, the blood in their veins, and the warmth of their skin.”

  He was breathing. His heart still beat. If he remained unconscious like this, Ty didn’t know how much longer it would last, though.

  He had to find a way out.

  Climbing up and over the buildings would be difficult, especially with the smoke crawling along them and the flames crackling down the alley. It might be dangerous, too. But if the fire were contained inside one of the buildings, he might be able to race along the rooftops and find his way out before the flames engulfed this entire section.

  What choice do I have?

  None, if he wanted to get out of here alive. None, if he wanted to get this boy out of here alive. Ty darted forward and looked for a good place to climb. He hurried until he reached a section where the alley was narrower.

  Holding onto the boy was difficult. He had to do it with one arm, and his injured shoulder screamed at him with the motion, but he fought back against it. He got a handhold up on the roof and then pulled, dangling for a moment, holding himself in place before pushing the boy up.

  Then he fell.

  Ty scrambled to get back to his feet. Heat drifted down the alley, the smoke and flame racing toward him, hot and burning, coming at him faster and faster. The alleyway was becoming choked by the smoke, filled by the flame. If he waited here too much longer, there wasn’t going to be any way to escape.

  Ty got to his feet and reached up, grasping for the building. He dug his fingers into the wall and managed to get a handhold. He pulled, and when he tried to reach with his other arm, pain shot through it. He almost let go, but the moan coming from the boy he’d tossed on the rooftop gave him renewed strength. Ty managed to get himself up and until he was lying next to the boy.

  The air up here was a little bit clearer, and he breathed in deeply but immediately regretted it. He coughed, the burning in his lungs painful. The boy still hadn’t moved, but at least he’d moaned a little bit.

  He scooped him with his good arm and crouched down, crawling forward.

  With each step, he looked for a different way out.

  He moved quickly, crawling along the rooftop, and avoided the growing flames. As he made his way forward, the flames continued to press him from either side, but Ty found an opening, though it wasn’t where he thought it would be. It was behind him.

  When he had been on the ground, the alley had been burning, and he didn’t think he’d be able to travel in that direction, but up here it seemed as if moving along the alley was the only way he could go.

  Ty hurried along and reached the next building, which forced him to jump. Holding onto the boy and jumping was difficult. When he landed, pain shot through him again, but he held onto him, refusing to let him go.

  He’d come this far, and he’d held onto him this tightly. He wasn’t about to give up. He cried out when they landed. He almost retched with the pain.

  He would have to visit Maeve again, needing for the old healer to stitch him up, but for now Ty needed to keep moving.

  The opening in the distance called to him.

  It was light, beckoning him forward, light that meant he was close to safety. Light that meant he was almost to freedom. It was light that meant he would find his way free of this.

  Ty hurried forward.

  He had to jump again. He steeled himself, preparing for the next jump, and when he reached it, he gathered all of his strength and determination, leaping forward.

  He
landed, staggering ahead, and collapsed onto his knees. He almost dropped the boy but didn’t. The flames didn’t press upon him quite as much as they had before. The smoke had stopped billowing quite as much, as well.

  Ty staggered back to his feet, hurrying forward, and then he looked down.

  A crowd formed on the street. Somebody noticed him, and they pointed.

  “I need help,” Ty called out, his throat ragged.

  He motioned with the boy and somebody approached, reaching for him. As Ty handed the boy down, he started to fall. The pain in his shoulder made it difficult to do much of anything else. He tried to hold himself together, trying to maintain his strength, trying not to collapse, but he struggled.

  “Hold on!” somebody shouted.

  The crowd surged forward and pressed up against the building, reaching for him. Ty cried out when somebody grabbed his injured shoulder, but then the hands pulled him down, lowering him to the street.

  “Find his… mother,” Ty coughed.

  Ty shook the hands off, trying to get to freedom, and didn’t really want to answer any questions.

  “Just find the boy’s mother. She’s… a seamstress.”

  He backed away and almost fell into somebody. He spun around to see a familiar face looking up at him.

  “Eastley. Thank the Flame.”

  He had known Eastley for almost the entire time that he had been working with Bingham. He was a muscular young man with blond hair and a sharp jawline, who was able to use his looks in much the same way that Olivia used hers.

  He had been out of prison since Ishantil had finally settled, but Ty hadn’t seen him that much. Eastley had been distant, though Ty understood why. Given what he had gone through, the torment he had endured, he felt like that made sense.

  “What happened?” Eastley asked. “Bingham’s shop…”

  Ty glanced over. “I saw it. There was a woman who lost her son, and they thought the fire was deliberate.”

  “And then you went to rescue a child?” He ran a hand through his hair, sweat dripping down his brow. “What would make you do something like that?”

  “The Dragon Touched aren’t here to help.”

  Or if they were, they hadn’t reacted. Could the Dragon Touched be involved?

  That didn’t make any sense. They normally came to put out fires. But in this section of the city, and with his known connection to Bingham, perhaps they were.

  “What are you doing here?” Ty asked.

  “I heard the commotion. Thought it was a good chance for me to see what opportunities might be here.”

  Leave it to Eastley to think about stealing more than anything else. It was better than how he had been spending his time lately. Eastley had been drinking most of the time and hadn’t been looking for jobs. Ty understood, but perhaps getting him out in the world again was helpful.

  “Have you seen any Dragon Touched?”

  “We haven’t seen many of them since Ishantil threatened to erupt. If you ask me, that’s for the best. Not that you’re going to ask me.”

  Ty looked around, noting the crowd drawing the woman and her child away. She had her arms wrapped around him, clinging to him as if afraid to lose him. She shepherded him through the crowd, never letting him get too far from her.

  He tore his gaze away. He had to get into Bingham’s shop. The relic was there.

  “Have you seen any sign of Bingham or Olivia?”

  “I haven’t seen either of them. I was just following the crowd, looking at the damage. Everything else is destroyed. Most of the buildings along the street are gone. There is total loss. And there’s not much that can be done about it. Not until the fires get put out.”

  Ty sighed, then he hurried toward Bingham’s street.

  The flames had at least died down, and they didn’t nearly overwhelm him the same way as they had.

  As he approached the street, the smoke billowing along it wasn’t nearly as dense and thick as it had been before. He hurried toward Bingham’s shop and found the flames had died down here too, leaving a smoldering ember. It was almost as if the shop itself had burned completely, leaving little behind.

  “I hope he wasn’t in here,” he whispered.

  “Bingham would’ve gotten out,” Eastley said. “He would have noticed the fire.”

  He looked over at him. Eastley and Bingham had worked together, but they were never close, not the way that Ty was close with Bingham. As far as Eastley was concerned, Bingham was somebody who would, for a fair price, buy the items that he stole, but not much more than that.

  Ty wondered what Bingham was for him. A friend? It didn’t seem quite right. Bingham had known Ty’s mother, but that didn’t make them friends. A mentor, certainly. Someone who helped provide jobs. But what else?

  Eastley shoved him on the shoulder. “We should keep moving if the buildings are going to collapse, and you have no idea what’s going to happen to the rest.”

  “We need to check Bingham’s shop.”

  Eastley shook his head. “You know he’s going to have gotten away.”

  Ty wasn’t sure how to argue with him. He wasn’t as worried about Bingham as he was about the relic. Could he admit that to Eastley?

  “Go on, Eastley. I need to see if Bingham is in there.”

  “Are you that worried about losing your fence?”

  “I’m more concerned about what he might have inside there.”

  He picked his way through Bingham’s shop, moving carefully and slowly as he did. There was no real sign of what had been inside here before. Everything had been destroyed. Bingham had countless items that he had taken over the years, many of them that he had thought were far more valuable than Bingham had claimed, but he couldn’t have sold them on his own. All of it looked to have been destroyed. His cabinets had crumbled, the wood little more than ashes now. Some of the various dragon relics that he had collected were shattered, crumbled under his feet. Most of the forgeries were gone, leaving little more than remnants of what had once been here.

  He picked his way through it but saw no sign of a body. Thankfully. He didn’t know what he would do if he were to come across a body.

  Something remained intact, and it seemed to prop up one of the wooden struts of the building itself. The pillar smoldered, and as Ty approached, he realized just what it rested upon.

  “Eastley! Help me move this timber.”

  He’d been staring toward the street, and when he called out his name, Eastley spun toward him, hurrying over. “It looks like it’s still supporting something.”

  “We need to get this out of here.”

  His eyes widened as he looked down. “Is that—”

  “A dragon relic. It was the last job I took.”

  The fool had left it behind.

  What was he thinking, leaving that sculpture behind when he ran?

  Unless he hadn’t been here at all. Maybe he had been out, trying to move the sculpture. If the dragon light weren’t here, there wasn’t going to be any way for him to move it, not until he found the dragon light.

  Still, there was no sign of that light, no sign of a candle, no sign of anything to suggest that he needed to find it.

  “That is massive,” Eastley said. “How much did he think it was worth?” Eastley kicked at the timber, but it didn’t move.

  “Not like that,” he said. “We have to drag the sculpture.”

  “That thing is going to be heavy,” Eastley said. “It looks like it’s still burning.”

  “Then we have to move it carefully,” he said.

  “If you hadn’t saved me, I don’t know if I’d be willing to help you.”

  Ty ignored him, looking for an unburned section of the timber and finding one stretched away from where the sculpture had come to rest. Ty grabbed the bottom of the timber and pulled. All he needed was for the timber to fall off to the side, nothing more than that, but he didn’t even know if he would be able to move it on him own. The sculpture was valuable to Ty. He need
ed to draw out the Tecal, especially if he thought that he could somehow use that to trade for Albion, at least for access to Albion. Without it…

  Ty wasn’t going to think like that.

  “Come on,” he called to Eastley. “Help me.”

  Eastley shook his head but joined him, hoisting the timber. Together they grunted, exerting as much force as they could, but they managed to drag it, letting it collapse on the ground next to the dragon sculpture. A bit of spark and flame danced from the timber. He hurried over to the sculpture, and when he tried to lift it, he found he couldn’t.

  “It must be heavy.” Eastley grabbed at the sculpture, trying to lift it, but groaned as he did. “How did you take this?”

  “We need to find the dragon light.” When Eastley frowned, Ty went on. “Something that will be glowing softly is anchoring this sculpture. We don’t really know how it works, only that it was some sort of security mechanism.”

  “Where did you take this from?”

  “You don’t want to know,” he said.

  Ty glanced back, looking out at the street. Thankfully, it was still empty. With all of the smoke and flames along the street, most of the people who had been here had continued onward, as if they didn’t want anything to do with this place. Not that he could blame them.

  “We need to keep moving.” Eastley turned his attention back to Ty. “I know you want to take this sculpture with you, and I suspect that it’s valuable enough for you to want, but if we can’t carry it then it’s no good to us.”

  “It’s going to implicate Bingham,” he said.

  “Bingham can handle himself. If we get caught here with it…”

  Bingham wasn’t wrong, but Ty wasn’t about to leave it behind.

  There had to be some way to find the dragon light.

  Ty dropped down, getting low beneath the smoke that still hovered over everything. Finding the dragon light should’ve been obvious.

  He didn’t find it.

  Where had Bingham brought the dragon light?

  Perhaps it had gotten trapped beneath the timber that they had dropped.