He hurried over to it. It was difficult to see much of anything, as part of the timber was glowing and burning, but as he got close to it he realized that what he feared was right.
Beneath the timber, the steady light of the dragon candle blazed.
There was going to be no way to get the sculpture out.
Chapter Eight
Ty crouched in front of the timber, trying to decide if they would be able to roll it. It had been hard enough for him and Eastley to move it at all, but rolling it would be easier than dragging it. Smoke drifted around him, and though he hadn’t coughed in quite some time, he hesitated taking a deep breath, knowing that the smoke would fill his lungs and make inhaling difficult.
“We have to get going,” Eastley said, turning to him. “There’s movement out in the street. I haven’t seen a whole lot of activity around here before, so that there is any suggests they are—”
“Guards,” he said.
Eastley nodded. “Or some of the Dragon Touched.”
Ty nodded again. “Either way, we don’t want to be here.”
They would sweep along the street, testing each building, looking for anybody who might have survived the fires. He still didn’t know who had started the fire. Could it be the Dragon Touched? If they came across the sculpture, it would not be good. What if it was one of the priests who had chased him? It would be dangerous then, as well.
“You have to help me move the timber.”
“Ty—”
“Just do it.” He tried to grab onto the not-burning end, but he cried out.
“It’s on fire,” Eastley said.
Ty looked down, realizing that Eastley was right. Now the entire length of the timber was burning. They weren’t going to be able to move it without burning themselves. He reached for his dragon-bone dagger. Maybe he could pry the dragon light out from beneath the timber.
He swept along the ground, but the heat coming off the timber made it too difficult to get close to it. As he dug his knife along the ground, trying to move it even a little, the heat made it incredibly difficult.
He pulled his hand back.
Ty let out a frustrated groan and turned to the sculpture.
He stabbed the dagger underneath the sculpture. Strangely, it tipped and collapsed onto its side.
“What did you do?”
“I just stabbed at it with my dagger,” he said, looking at it blankly.
“You did what?”
He looked down at the dagger. It was still glowing the way it had seemed to before, as if it had sucked in some of the smoke and fire. Maybe it had. It was dragon bone, and dragon bone had characteristics that he knew were odd and could be unpredictable. He kept it because of the sharpness of the blade, but the oddity of it was an additional reason to hold onto it.
“We should be able to lift it now,” he said.
Eastley shook his head. “I still think we should leave it behind.”
Ty had to take it. He needed to. This was how he was going to get to Albion. The king valued dragon relics. He intended to bring one to him.
“I’m taking it.”
He grunted as he lifted it and was pleasantly surprised to find that he could carry it. As he got the sculpture up, he carried it forward and looked at Eastley, who was ignoring him.
“Let’s go toward the back,” Ty said.
“We don’t know what it’s like back there. We know that the street in front is mostly clear.”
“We also know that the street has some of the soldiers, along with the Dragon Touched. I don’t want to encounter either of them, so…”
Eastley just shook his head. “Go. I’ll be right behind you.”
Ty held the sculpture, clutching it against him chest, and thankfully it was lighter than it had been before.
As he held onto it, he raced through the back of what was left of Bingham’s shop. He jumped over the smoldering timber, casting one last look down at it. The dragon light would be seen by whoever came through here later. He would have to return, or Bingham would have to return, so that somebody didn’t realize that it was there. As they cleaned up the shop, they wanted to make sure that any debris that might implicate Bingham and what he had been doing would be removed.
He breathed out a sigh and finally reached the back of the shop, where he found part of the door still standing. Ty kicked it, sending a new jolt of pain along his back, and then he stepped into the alley.
Smoke filled the alley, though not at all like it had in the street out front. At least at the back of the alley, it seemed as if he would be able to hurry along more easily, and he wouldn’t have to worry quite as much about breathing in smoke. He still kept his scarf wrapped around his nose, using that to help filter the air and keep from breathing in some of the foulness.
Ty looked behind. Thankfully, Eastley was still there.
“Where do you intend to go?” Eastley asked. “With Bingham’s shop burned, I doubt my place is safe, since it’s too close to the fire, so I suppose we go to yours?”
Ty squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. Not his place. He couldn’t go back there. Not after what happened. He had no idea who might be watching it intending to get information about the Dragon Thief.
“Anyplace we bring it might not be safe, though,” Eastley added. “There are still Dragon Touched in the city, even if they didn’t go to the fires.”
He was right. If the Dragon Touched came along, they would use whatever strange magic they had in order to detect the dragon sculpture and pearls. Ty wasn’t sure that he wanted to be around here any longer than necessary, and he certainly didn’t want to be caught by the Dragon Touched, not with this sculpture and the pearls.
“I’ve got an idea,” Ty said.
“You look like you just swallowed a turd, so why do I get the feeling I’m the one who’s not going to like it?”
“It’s more about me not liking it.”
Eastley frowned. “What is it?”
Ty shook his head, and he hurried through the alley.
Now that he knew where he was going to go, he moved much more quickly.
He stayed in the alleys. Navigating through the main city streets would be faster but also would put them out in the open, and with the early daylight, he didn’t want to be seen carrying the dragon sculpture. It would draw too much attention. Besides, he and Eastley stunk of smoke, which would only raise questions.
As they began to near the outskirts of the city, Eastley grabbed his shoulder and Ty almost dropped the sculpture.
“Ow! Dammit, Eastley!”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know…” Eastley looked at him. “How bad?”
“A crossbow bolt in my shoulder.”
Eastley’s eyes widened slightly. To his credit, he remained focused on the task at hand. “Where are you taking us? We are almost to the edge of the city, and if we keep going, we get to—”
“The jungle,” Ty said. “That’s where we’re going.”
Eastley shook his head. “I’m not going out there.”
Ty regarded him for a moment. “You stay here. I’ll go. Find Bingham. Let him know I went back home.”
Eastley frowned at him before looking at the jungle sloping away from the city. “Home?”
“It’s probably a good idea if you go looking for Bingham, anyway. He’s going to want to know I got the sculpture out of his shop, and I’m not willing to go back there. Not with everything else that’s going on.”
“Ty…”
“Just go find him for me.”
He wasn’t sure if Eastley would do it, but by adding the for me to it, he at least hoped that he would take it into consideration. They had a friendship, at least as much as two thieves within Zarinth could have a friendship. Competitors at times, they were also more alike than different. He considered Eastley as much of a friend as anyone else.
“Bingham will know where to find me. You can come with him.”
“Into the jungle?”
“I’m not going very far
into the jungle,” Ty said.
Eastley just shook his head. “I should probably go check on my place, anyway. Are you sure that you’re going to be safe? I owe you. I don’t want you to think I don’t know that.”
As soon as he got out of the city, Ty figured that he would be safe. He wouldn’t have to worry about fires, and he wouldn’t have to worry about rogue Priests of the Flame coming after him. All he would have to worry about were memories assaulting him.
“I’m going to be fine,” he said. “Just go find him.”
Eastley nodded and then hurried away.
Ty took a deep breath, waiting until he was gone, and then he started forward through the alleys until he reached the outskirts of the city. He waited until he had a chance to make sure that there was no movement around him, nobody else out in the streets, but on this side of the city there would be very few people heading toward the jungle. It was just unusual for people to make their way toward the jungle, unusual that they would even risk it.
He darted across, reaching the edge of the trees.
He wandered just inside the boundary of the trees, breathing in the strange energy here, letting it fill him. There was something familiar about it, something that made him feel as if he were back home. Almost, though not completely.
Ty jogged along until he reached the path heading through the trees.
It was easier taking the path through the trees without Ishantil trembling. He still remembered the way the volcano had shaken the ground, the heavy energy of Ishantil, the way that it had left him feeling afraid of the impending eruption. It was the reason that he had avoided the jungle ever since then.
Still, this path was familiar, though it was the same path used to march his brother back down the mountainside. Taken away from the city and away from him, they carried Albion toward the king’s torment and whatever justice they thought he needed to suffer. He weaved through the trees until he reached another section that was familiar to him, and from there he hurried a little bit farther.
It wasn’t far now.
Ty raced forward, darting along a familiar path. It was faded and no longer trampled the way that it once had been, but he still knew the way. It was almost as if his mind and his body reacted without him needing to do anything. Memories drifted back to him from his childhood. He had taken this walk dozens of times over the years, enough so that he could make it even in the dark, as if he could feel his way toward home.
It had been a long time since he had returned. Ever since he’d left, looking for information about his parents, he’d only returned a few times, and that was early on after working with Bingham and thinking that he might know something. Neither of them had found any sign of his parents inside the home.
He weaved along, hurrying forward, and finally stepped out into a small clearing.
It was overgrown compared to the way it had been when he was younger, though that had been cleared by his father, creating space for the small, squat stone building that still remained untouched. The building itself was old, as old as many within the city, a reminder of what had once been more common in this part of the world. Some of the people who had lived in this section of the world had constructed the building out of lava rock, making it stout and powerful, much like the old temple where the priest had dragged him.
Unlike there, he had generally happy memories here. This was where he had chased his brother, climbing on the trees near their home. This was where his father had taught him to avoid the velum, staying low as they swung through the trees. This was where he had learned which flowers were safe and which were not. This was where he had learned to navigate along the stream, finding his way back to the house or down to the city. This was where he had lived, knowing nothing but happiness.
Ty breathed out, feeling all of those thoughts, all of those memories coming back to him, filling him with sadness, though he knew that they shouldn’t.
He headed to the home and pushed open the door. The smell of age greeted him, a familiar sense, and as he closed the door behind him darkness swallowed him.
Ty headed straight toward the lantern he knew was resting on the table, and it took only a moment to get it glowing, lit brightly so that he could look around the inside of the home.
He set the sculpture down and turned, looking everywhere.
His heart skipped a beat when he saw the mantle above the fireplace.
There was a note just like the one that had been in his home in the city.
Chapter Nine
Ty sat at the old table and chairs, the lantern resting on the table, the dragon sculpture settled on the ground alongside it. His dragon-bone dagger rested on the table next to him, though he was ready to reach for it at any moment, prepared in case anybody came inside. He had been staring at the note for the better part of an hour, trying to decipher its meaning.
This one was different than the last. That one had been an instruction to meet, whereas this one was something else entirely.
This had to be what the Priest of the Flame had wanted.
His brother had left it for him.
Ty didn’t understand anything about it, though. It was written in strange symbols that he couldn’t interpret, but the neat signature at the bottom of the page was legible enough for him to make out, and it was easy enough to determine that it was his brother who had left it. He had been here before his captivity.
More than that, he had left a note for him.
Had Albion known something would happen, and that he would need to come looking for him? The idea Albion would’ve planned all of that…
It was probably as impossible as Albion having been the Dragon Thief.
The idea of either was too much to believe.
He needed his help. More than that, Albion needed Ty’s help.
Whatever was on this page was important to the rogue Priests of the Flame, important enough they would have come looking for him, breaking into his home, leaving a note to draw him in. Whatever it was had been important enough that they risked exposing their presence in the city. Whatever it was apparently carried so much importance that they were willing to kill for it.
Ty breathed out, still staring at it.
If he had left a book, or something that could’ve given him any indication as to what else was here, he might be able to figure out what he wanted him to know, but unfortunately there was nothing more to be found.
He stared at the note before folding it up and stuffing it into his pocket.
He slipped the dragon-bone dagger back into his pocket as well.
The need to hide the sculpture pressed on him.
It was safe here. Very few people knew about this place. There was Maeve, and Ty doubted Maeve would ever say anything about it, and Bingham. Maybe Eastley now that Ty had revealed that Bingham could find it, but he didn’t really think that Eastley would say anything that would get him into trouble.
Ty got up slowly, his shoulder aching less than before, then headed to the back bedroom. There were two. One that his father and mother had used, and the other he and Albion had shared. He wondered if Albion had left him any other notes.
The one on the mantle was obvious and seemed to have been placed there simply so that he would be drawn to it, but anything else…
As he looked around, checking in the old bedroom and then in his parents’ old bedroom, he found nothing. No sign of any notes, no sign of anything that suggested Albion had been here. Nothing other than the note.
He pulled it out of his pocket, running his finger along the edge of it, but didn’t find anything to it. He stuffed it back in his pocket and took the satchel of dragon pearls and found his old hiding place, a section in the wall that had come loose, and stuffed them inside. Ty replaced the obsidian section of wall in front of it.
If somebody came here, they might feel the presence of dragons, but they might also realize it just came from the obsidian.
They wouldn’t find the dragon pearls.
He hurri
ed around the room, going to Albion’s old hiding places. He had learned about them early on, learning that he had many little nooks and crannies within the room where he would keep things, and he pried up a section of the floor and slipped his bank markers down into it. If nothing else, he wouldn’t lose those.
He didn’t have much money, and in other places within the kingdom, it wouldn’t get him nearly as far as it did within Zarinth, so he needed to preserve what he had. He had started stealing for his parents. Now he kept what he had taken for himself. For the future that he wasn’t sure that he ever would have.
He replaced the flooring and went back out to the main room, where he took a seat, staring at the sculpture. It had withstood the flames intact. There was no sign of any damage to it, which surprised him, though he knew that it shouldn’t. Sculptures like this, dragon sculptures that carried with them some sort of ancient power and were formed by the ancient artisans who had known how to work with obsidian in ways that they did not these days, were often indestructible, very similar to dragon bone.
Ty sat at the table. He stared at the sculpture and lost track of how long he was staring at it, but finally a soft scratching sound caught his attention.
Ty got to his feet, looking around the inside of the home before heading over to the door. He looked at it for a moment, tipping his head to the side, and realized that something was outside.
He wasn’t alone.
Maybe it meant that Bingham was here. He pulled the door open and hesitated, sweeping his gaze around the outside. When he had been growing up here, the clearing had generally protected them from the velum that would swing through the trees all throughout the rest of the jungle, but maybe as the clearing had overgrown again the velum had decided to use this place for their own purposes once again.
Ty didn’t see any movement. There was still the sound that he had heard, though he didn’t know what it was, only that it had caught his attention. He stared out into the forest, looking for anything that might tell him what he’d heard, though he didn’t see anything.
He started to close the door when shadows in the trees caught his attention. Ty reached for the dagger.
Within the Dragon's Jaw (The Dragon Thief Book 2) Page 8