The Dragons' Graveyard: The Dragonspire Chronicles Book 3

by James E. Wisher

  With everyone now fully in character, no more words were exchanged as they entered the main keep. The interior of the guild hall was devoid of decorations. The stone floor had a simple gray rug running straight from the entrance to a large open room filled on three sides with chairs facing a raised stage. There was a lectern with a gavel resting on it, but no auctioneer or merchandise. It had to be close to starting. Maybe once the last of the buyers finished up outside.

  Yaz looked around the room. Guards stood every thirty feet around the walls. There was a second entrance on the opposite wall, probably where they brought the slaves in since there were no chairs on that side of the room.

  Their group was among the last to arrive and the only seats were near the rear of the room. That suited their plans perfectly. The closer to the exit the better as far as Yaz was concerned. Silas found a chair to his liking, a well-padded leather number without arms, and settled down. Yaz and Brigid moved to stand behind him.

  Now it was just a waiting game.

  Ten men and three women had been sold off before the first refreshments appeared. Ten attractive, scantily clad women wearing slave collars and carrying trays laden with mugs entered the auction hall through the main door. They fanned out through the gathering offering drinks and tolerating pats and pinches. This was what they’d been waiting for.

  Yaz discreetly tapped Silas on the shoulder and murmured. “It’s time.”

  Silas gave an imperious wave. “For the gods’ sake, my mouth is dry. Fetch me a drink and fetch it now.”

  That was Yaz’s signal. One of the serving girls was headed their way, no doubt having heard Silas’s outburst. Yaz hurried to intercept her.

  “I would have brought it, Master,” the girl said.

  Yaz took a mug and smiled. “No need. My employer can be grabby if you take my meaning. You, I suspect, have had enough of that for one night.”

  “Gods bless,” she whispered before hurrying off to find another thirsty patron.

  The relief in her voice broke Yaz’s heart. He allowed himself one breath to grieve for her situation then hardened his will. He had a mission and others counting on him. That girl was beyond his ability to help.

  Yaz brought the mug back towards Silas and when he got a few feet away faked a stumble. Red wine splashed all over Silas’s ridiculous outfit.

  He sprang to his feet and bellowed, “Damn your clumsiness! That’s the third mess you’ve made this week. Get out of my sight before I thrash you!”

  Silas raised his staff and Yaz cowered. “Yes, Master. I’m sorry, Master. I’ll wait for you outside.”

  Yaz ran for the exit, chased by the derisive laughter of the other buyers. Bastards! Let them laugh. Nobody would ever think someone as pathetic as Yaz would do something like sneak off to the records room.

  The grinning guards even opened the door for him. One tried to kick him in the butt to speed his retreat, but Yaz dodged it. The moment he was in the clear and the door slammed behind him, he straightened and turned right. Yaz walked with purpose down the hall, a servant on a mission. Whenever he didn’t want a chore as a kid, Yaz would do his best to look busy. His mother knew him too well for such a gambit to work, but he was convinced the theory was sound.

  His footsteps echoed in the empty halls. Silas hadn’t mentioned any guards during his scouting run, but that was the middle of the night and this was an hour after noon. Hopefully everyone was busy with the auction. As he followed the labyrinth passages it quickly became clear that the slavers didn’t have much use for decorations. Everything was gray stone with an occasional sconce for torches. It was depressing, not that he expected slavers to be interested in interior design.

  At the final turn, Yaz froze. In the hall beyond, a single guard dressed in familiar leather armor and carrying a heavy curved sword stood watch. The man didn’t appear to be protecting anything in particular. Maybe he was there to keep people out of the area beyond. If that was the guild’s administrative area it made sense. You wouldn’t want outsiders wandering around. They might find out all sorts of things you didn’t want to get out.

  Still, it was just one man and he didn’t appear especially alert. Yaz only had a dagger so a straight fight was out of the question. Unfortunately, so was trying to take the man alive.

  Yaz drew his weapon and held it in a reverse grip with the blade running down his forearm and hidden by the sleeve of his tunic. He took a deep breath. He only had one chance to get this right.

  With his mind clear and focused, Yaz stepped out in the hall, a nervous, confused look plastered across his face. The moment the guard looked his way Yaz brightened and hurried over.

  “Whoa!” The guard raised his hand to stop Yaz. “You can’t be in this part of the guild. Higher-ups only.”

  “I don’t want to be here.” Yaz continued approaching. “My master sent me to fetch him a snack and now I’m lost. If I don’t get back soon, I’m due a thrashing at worst and more likely I’ll end up looking for a new job. Can you tell me how to get to the kitchen?”

  The guard grimaced. “Buddy, you are really turned around. The kitchens are on the opposite side of the hall. You came from the auction, right?”

  Yaz nodded and moved a little closer.

  “Well, what you need to do is go back to the hall then take a left.”

  Yaz smacked his face with his empty hand. “I got my directions reversed. Maybe I am hopeless. Thanks, I really appreciate this.”

  The guard grinned. “No problem. I used to get—”

  A gurgling spray of blood silenced the guard when Yaz’s dagger sliced across his throat.

  Yaz leapt away as the man clawed at his neck and slowly collapsed.

  When he’d stopped bleeding, Yaz eased around the body, cleaned his dagger on the dead man’s pant leg, and sheathed it. Gods, he hated doing stuff like that. Poor guy was just doing his job. Granted he worked for slavers, so it was hard to feel too bad for him, but still.

  Done was done. Now he had to find the information he needed to make this man’s death mean something. According to Silas’s directions, the record room was three doors down from his current position. With a silent prayer that there were no more guards, Yaz made the quick walk. The door didn’t even have a handle, it just pushed inward.

  “Oh, gods.” Yaz breathed out a long sigh. There had to be thirty bookcases, every one filled from floor to ceiling with ledgers.

  Okay, think. He’d spent plenty of time in libraries. Where should he start? Obviously at the only bookcase three-quarters full. He crossed the room and checked the spine of the first ledger. It was stamped with dates from last week through the week before. He went down the line, comparing the dates on the spines with what Randall told them and finally pulled out the most likely target.

  The entries were in alphabetical order which helped. He studied page after page looking at the Y section. There weren’t many and when he reached the end of the book he’d found no sign of his parents. He went through again, this time checking the D section. He found Brigid’s parents on the twentieth page. They’d both been sold to farmers, different farmers. For some reason he’d imagined they’d be together.

  Satisfied that he’d found the right book, Yaz flipped through the pages one by one, memorizing the contents without analyzing them. Once they were safe, he’d have all the time he needed in his mental library.

  When he’d finished the book, Yaz returned it to its shelf, peeked out the door to confirm the hall was empty of living guards, and left. If he could just get back to the auction before anyone found him or the body, he’d be set.

  Yaz silently and roundly cursed the two guards standing on either side of the passage that led back to the auction hall. He’d gotten pretty lucky on his way back, only having to stop and hide once to avoid a passing slaver. No one was shouting about a corpse in the hall either. All in all not a terrible result. If he could just get past these last two idiots.

  He grinned as the answer came to him. Not only woul
d it get him past the guards, but it should create enough chaos to help them escape unnoticed. But first he needed to ditch his dagger. If they searched him, that would bring too many questions. He backed up to get a running start.

  “Murder!” Yaz screamed in a high-pitched panic as he ran toward the guards. “Help! Someone! Murder!”

  One of the guards caught him by the shoulder as he tried to run past. “What are you on about?”

  “Murder!” Yaz screamed right in his face. “I got lost and found a body. He was dressed like you two. Blood everywhere. Horrible! I must warn my master before something happens to him. Unhand me!”

  “Where’s this body?” the second guard asked.

  Yaz waved desperately back the way he’d come. “I don’t know exactly where. I was lost.”

  “Check him for weapons. Maybe we caught ourselves a murderer.”

  The guard holding on to Yaz’s shoulder used his free hand to pat him down. “Nah, he’s got nothing, including the spine to kill someone. We’d best look for this body.”

  A contemptuous shove staggered Yaz and the two guards set out deeper into the hall. It wouldn’t take them too long to find the dead guard. Yaz and the others needed to be gone before someone sealed the building.

  He hurried down to the auction hall and pulled the doors open. “Murder! Someone’s been killed!”

  Everyone leapt to their feet. “What’s the meaning of this?” someone shouted.

  “There’s been a killing!” Yaz evaded the grasp of the nearest guard and moved deeper into the room towards Silas and Brigid. “Master! We must go before it’s too late. Hurry, Master, it isn’t safe here.”

  The guests were murmuring among themselves now. It wouldn’t take much to get them really panicked.

  “What are you babbling about?” Silas demanded as he stalked toward Yaz with Brigid in tow.

  “I saw the body, Master. Someone cut his throat. There was blood everywhere.”

  “Perhaps we should go,” Brigid said in a meek voice.

  “We may as well. The stock wasn’t up to my standards anyway.” Silas stomped toward the doors and many of the other guests moved to join him.

  The auctioneer shouted, “Notices will be posted for a second date to sell the remaining stock. Don’t miss out. Plenty of quality merchandise still available.”

  Yaz joined Brigid behind Silas and she whispered, “Did you find it?”

  “Yeah, we’re all set.”

  She squeezed his arm. “That’s wonderful.”

  Yaz would have felt better if his parents’ names had been on the list, but it was a huge step in the right direction.

  Someone jostled Brigid, knocking her bonnet off and sending blond hair spilling out everywhere. She hurried to put it back on. No one seemed to notice and a moment later they were out in the yard and on their way to the gate.

  When they passed through the gate Yaz breathed easy for the first time in hours. The other buyers split off left, right, and center. Most walked off on foot and a few of the wealthier boarded carriages parked up the street from the gate. Yaz would have liked to keep their carriage, despite all its faults, for the trip back to the inn, but the cost for a full day’s rental would have pushed their budget to the breaking point.

  The last of the crowd broke off three blocks from the guild. Once they were alone Brigid asked, “Where are my parents?”

  “They were sold to separate farms I’ve never heard of. I haven’t analyzed the rest of the information I memorized. Until I do, they’re the only ones I know about off the top of my head. Still, a farm big enough to afford even a single slave should be easy to find. We just need to ask the right people.”

  “But not here,” Silas said. “The sooner we’re out of Port Steel the better. I say we head to the inn, change, buy horses and supplies, and ride.”

  “Excellent plan,” Yaz said.

  They’d been walking through a quiet, middle-class neighborhood for a while when Yaz noticed a trio of rough men following them. They hadn’t made any aggressive moves, so maybe they were just walking in the same direction. There was a trickle of other people running errands so it wasn’t impossible.

  Two blocks later he glanced at the window of a bakery across the street. The men were still there, about the same twenty paces back. They all looked focused on Yaz and his companions. That couldn’t be good.

  “Silas, I think we’ve got a problem. Behind us.”

  After a brief pause Silas said, “I see them. Bounty hunters for sure. Probably made us at the auction.”

  “Oh, gods.” Brigid groaned. “When my hair fell out. That must have been what gave us away.”

  “Maybe, maybe not,” Yaz said. “Either way we need to deal with them. Why haven’t they tried anything yet?”

  “Look around,” Silas said. “This is a decent neighborhood. If they start a fight here, they’re responsible for any damages. They smash up a couple businesses trying to catch us and it’ll cost more than the bounties are worth. They’ll stay on our trail until we reach a slum or leave the city.”

  “Can’t you use magic to stop them?” Brigid asked.

  “I wish. Any spell strong enough to take out three guys would be sure to draw the attention of the city’s Lord Mage. And believe me when I say that isn’t someone whose attention you want.”

  “If we run for it,” Yaz said. “Maybe we can lose them.”

  “That’s about our only choice,” Silas said. “A fight will draw the city guard and they’ll help the hunters. We run on three, okay?”

  “Okay,” Yaz and Brigid said as one.

  Very softly Silas said, “One, two, three.”

  They sprinted away at full speed.

  A pair of shoppers looked at them like they’d lost their minds.

  Yaz ignored them and looked back over his shoulder.

  The hunters had fallen behind but were now pounding after them. The men looked plenty fit and strong and despite the extra gear they wore, were keeping up.

  Silas darted down an alley.

  At the end he turned left on another street and kept going.

  Yaz’s chest had started to burn. He had maybe another minute in him before he’d have to slow.

  He looked back just in time to see the hunters emerge from the alley and resume the chase.

  Stubborn bastards.

  Yaz flicked a glance at Brigid. She was gasping for air.

  “Damn. Guards ahead,” Silas said between pants. “Turn right at the street coming up.”

  Yaz had barely rounded the corner when a thump was followed by a scream.

  Brigid!

  He skidded to a halt and spun. She was on the ground with a rope wrapped around her legs.

  Yaz turned to help just as the bounty hunters came around the corner and grabbed her.

  “Give me the staff,” Yaz said.

  Silas’s attention was further up the street. “We have to go. The guards will be here any second.”

  “I can’t leave her behind.”

  Silas grabbed his arm and pulled. “You can’t help her if we get caught. Come on.”

  The pleading look in Brigid’s eye stabbed him in the heart, but Silas was right. Yaz allowed himself to be pulled away.

  As they ran, Yaz swore he’d rescue Brigid, no matter what.

  Chapter 13

  Shade couldn’t have been happier with the results from his night of fire and death. The tent city had been reduced to little more than smoldering rags. From his position at the railing of the flying ship, tiny figures were visible picking through the remains. There weren’t many remaining. Most of the residents had fled the ruins the day after the fire. These were scavengers looking for easy money.

  Footsteps on the deck drew Shade’s attention away from his handiwork. The sound of that tread was well known to him. “Hi, Boss.”

  Lord Black and Domina had arrived on the second ship a few hours ago. Domina’s sour expression during the debriefing had pleased Shade nearly as much as the
boss’s praise. A few times he’d tried to pinpoint exactly what it was about the woman that so rubbed him the wrong way. Shade loved women in general, but hated Domina.

  “You’ve far exceeded my expectations as usual, Shade,” Lord Black said. “But I wonder, what is that little clump of people gathered around the tower’s base?”

  Shade squinted. He couldn’t make out enough details to say who they were. “Can’t tell, Boss.”

  Lord Black shrugged. “It’s not more than a dozen people. Whoever they are, they’ll move or wish they had. Since we’ve only reached this moment due to your hard work, will you accompany me to the tower for the empowering ritual?”

  “Sure, Boss, glad to, but Domina isn’t going to like it. You’ll need to learn to sleep with one eye open.”

  Lord Black shot him a hard look and Shade winced. Maybe he’d pushed it a bit far with that line. The boss didn’t like it when anyone suggested someone was a threat to him. Given how powerful he was, the subject didn’t come up often and never in jest.

  “Sorry, Boss.”

  Lord Black sighed. “Someday, Shade, your mouth is going to get you into real trouble. But not today. Ready?”

  “Yeah, Jax cast the translation spell on me so I can talk to those guys if you want.”

  “I doubt we have much to discuss, but we’ll see. Here we go.”

  The boss’s ring flashed and they flew up and over the rail before slowly descending toward the waiting group at the tower’s base. As they got closer Shade studied the gathered men who studied them right back. They wore robes with markings from all the clans and were without exception middle-aged to old.

  When they landed Lord Black said, “They’re all wizards.”

  Shade snapped his fingers. “Right. That water wizard I killed mentioned the city’s true purpose was to protect the tower, but only the wisest knew that. I guess these are the wisest.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that. Standing in my way isn’t wise at all.”

  Whenever the boss used that tone it sent a chill down Shade’s spine. He wasn’t one to scare easy, but the boss in a fighting mood did the trick.