It might be safe to go back outside.
I snuck to the edge of the tent and looked out. People swarmed across the camp, toward the road I’d arrived on. There, where the lone Magika had lost his mind, there was nothing but a smoking heap of ashes, a bowl still rolling across the road, and three dead guards slumped in uncomfortable positions. The man who had looked like he wouldn’t move had moved just fine. He alone of the guards was still on his feet – at a tent as far from the barrel as the one I occupied. I swallowed. I could have been one of those poor fools.
You still could be. I can see you all the way from here. Either get back in the tent or step all the way out. You look suspicious half-way in the door.
Well, that was embarrassing – being called out by a dragon.
I coughed awkwardly and left the tent with a purposeful stride heading into the camp. People rarely questioned anyone who looked like they knew what they were doing. I kept my gaze forward – a man on a mission – but watched everything from the corners of my eyes.
It’s going to be hard to help you become the best version of yourself. I swear you’re prone to self-sabotage.
Who said I wanted to be my best self?
Doesn’t everyone? If you don’t want to be the best version of yourself, what do you want to be?
I want to be the real version of myself. This one. The one who has a bit of fun and doesn’t worry about ‘best.’
The real version of myself was starting to draw attention and I still had to get to the center of the encampment. Despite the milling movement toward the road, eyes occasionally followed me, squinting in thought. Did I stand out too much?
Maybe it’s because they are all going one way and you are going the other.
That seemed reasonable. I smiled at the squinters. It wasn’t the first time that I’d drawn attention in a crowd, but there was something strange about this crowd. What was it?
For starters, there were no children. No one at all younger than me – and I was about twenty.
A dragonlet. We’d barely trust you to control your own flame at that age. And I’m pretty sure you’re lying about being twenty. Hubric said you were seventeen.
There were also no elderly people.
I heard a rumor that Magikas don’t get old.
That would be handy. Or maybe they died young, which wouldn’t be handy at all.
And there were very few women. I knew for a fact that there were female Magikas, but there were more males in this camp. They were dressed in a fashion that to me meant, ‘try to pick this pocket.’ It was all I could do to keep my itching hands to myself.
You saw what that bowl did. Pick the wrong pocket around here and you might end up with your own mobile storm.
The entire place smelled strange. Spices I’d never smelled before filled the air and made me twitch my nose irritably.
At one campfire, rather than food cooking, there were a variety of glass vials set up on a twisting metal arch over the fire. They bubbled with liquids of various colors and consistencies under the keen watch of a female Magika.
Someone enterprising was selling herbs and cloth from the back of his wagon. The Magikas buying from him pretended that they weren’t buying at all, “just looking” and then would slip him a coin and walk away.
I let my eyes wander over the oddities. Maybe there would be a clue about how to rescue Hubric’s friend. I was starting to think that was a fool’s mission. Maybe I should fly away and rethink this.
I’m not a horse. You can’t fly me where I don’t want to go, and I have committed to help Hubric. I met your Dominar when she visited our Queen. I was impressed. I agreed to help her efforts.
We could do that from Dominion City or anywhere else in the Dominion. We didn’t have to die saving a girl we’d never met.
I was asked to help this way. I am committed to this.
Just my luck. The fire-breathing dragon had more moral fiber than I did.
Perfect.
I turned a corner around a yellow and black striped tent and saw the central red and white tent stirring in the breeze. Almost there!
Just find the girl. First things first. Then look for an ally. I can’t arrive on the scene until the last minute and you could use someone to help you.
And how did she expect me to do that?
Use your brain. Look around. There are always people with goals that don’t line up with their communities. Use that.
It sounded so easy when she said it, but it wasn’t like people just raised their hands over their heads and volunteered to help you betray their group.
I’m sure that if you keep your eyes open a likely option will present itself.
Well, it would have to reach out and grab me, because I wasn’t seeing anything. Everyone on the road between the tents and around those cook fires looked content and purposeful.
Just have a little faith.
A hand reached out of the yellow and black striped tent and yanked me in.
Chapter Fourteen
I STUMBLED FORWARD as the pull on my cloak suddenly released, tripping and falling to the floor. Rugs of various sizes, shapes, and colors overlapped across the tent floor. Closed chests and folding chairs served as the only furnishings other than the braziers of coals scattered throughout the tent. They gave off just enough light and heat to see in the dim interior.
A man stood at the center of the tent with arms crossed over his chest. He wasn’t much older than I was, though he had an air of a foreigner about him and around his head, four leather bands were tied, almost completely covering his forehead. His hair was cropped short and his clothing was not Magika clothing. He had the rakish look of a noble out for some fun in the gaming houses.
“You are no apprentice,” he said, his smile growing, like he was enjoying catching me out.
“You’re no Magika,” I countered.
He wore a long vest with tasseled ends and a heavy belt over it. His loose trousers tucked into high leather boots and a light scarf was wrapped around his neck and shoulders. I wouldn’t mind clothing like that. They looked easy to move in.
“If you were an apprentice, you would know who I am.” He was testing me, of course.
“I just arrived,” I said. “My master said that I was to pass a message to Shabren the Violet.”
“You arrived with the man who died in the commotion?” He tilted his head to one side, testing me.
“Is this your tent?” I asked. It didn’t’ seem to suit him. It felt ... feminine somehow. Maybe it was the embroidered pillows on the folding chairs or the way someone had placed a jar of dead flowers on one of the chests.
His eyes narrowed. “You’re here for something. The man at the gate was a distraction to get you in. I’ve been watching you walk through the camp. You don’t belong here. You’re just trying to fool your way in to see Shabren.”
I hoped he couldn’t hear my heart thudding in my chest. Already called out! Already discovered! I wasn’t much of a spy, was I?
He’s the perfect one to make an ally.
Was she kidding? He was a threat. I should con him and get out of here.
“That’s nonsense,” I said. “And I don’t have to stay here and listen to it. You’re the imposter here. This is not your tent and you’re trying to trick me into telling you secrets about our Order that you don’t have any right to. I won’t be fooled so easily!”
I put on an indignant air, held my nose in the air and whirled to the tent door. A rock-solid grip on my upper arm spun me back around and I clenched my jaw as I faced him again. I didn’t want to fight – but I would if I had to.
Don’t fight! It will only draw attention!
“Order?” the man asked.
A lie, if it is to be believed, must be spectacular.
“If you don’t know about the secret Order of the Nine Bowls, then I won’t break trust by telling you.” I made my tone as haughty as Saboraak’s. “And now, I need to go about my business.”
I turned again, shaking off
his grip and stepping toward the entrance of the tent, when something whizzed by my head, leaving a stinging burn across my ear. I slapped my hand to my ear at the same moment that I saw the flying knife strike the side of the tent and slide to the floor.
“It’s funny,” the young man said. “It would lodge right in your back if I wanted it to, but the tent has so much give that it just slows the blade. It’s hardly even hurt by it.”
I felt blood rush to my face and I spun. He’d outmaneuvered me!
The man held two more throwing knives. One in each hand.
“Who are you?” I asked grimly.
“A guide. These men want me to lead them through the desert north of here.”
“What do you want?” Was he a prisoner then? But he had the freedom to roam the camp.
But would they let him live if he tried to escape? I told you there would be someone unhappy here! He’s the perfect choice.
“I’m stuck here.” He said. “Stuck in this camp. When you go, I want you to take me with you.”
“If you don’t like it here, just leave,” I spat. Saboraak might like him, but he posed a risk. He didn’t know me, and he was telling me all of this. Who else would he talk to if I told him anything about myself?
“It’s not so simple. I want your word.”
I frowned.
“Or,” he added, “I’ll tell everyone that you don’t belong here. It’s obvious to me, but I’ll admit that Magikas can be in their heads a bit. They don’t notice what is right in front of them ... unless someone points it out.”
“What’s your name?” It was a good threat. But I needed to know who I was dealing with beyond just ‘a guide.’
His smile returned. He was almost as charming as I was and with his added good looks, he probably did well with noble ladies to boot. I had a better face for the street, though. It was unmemorable. The kind of face you forgot. Good looks were a liability if you needed people to forget you were ever there.
“I’m Bataar Bayanen and I could be your friend – if you don’t put a knife in my back.”
Say yes! You need an ally and he’s perfect.
He was going to be trouble.
Just listen to me for once! If you don’t make a deal with him, I won’t fly in there and rescue you when you call.
I sighed and Bataar raised a single eyebrow. I felt like he was trapping me somehow. He’d better not be, or Saboraak would pay for forcing me into this.
“I’m not the one throwing knives around like seeds, friend. You want out of this place? Fine. Then you’re going to help me get what I came here for.” I crossed my arms over my chest.
His eyes glittered with anticipation. “And what are you here for?”
I laughed. “Like I’d tell you that! No, your part will be to provide the distraction.”
He frowned. “I’m almost certain that will take me away from where you are. How will you help me escape if we are separated?”
“Trust me. I can find you.” Saboraak certainly could.
Yes. I feel every beating heart in that camp.
Because that wasn’t creepy or anything.
He swallowed. “I’m going to need some way to trust you. Tell me your name, at least.”
I hesitated. But then again, who here would know me by my name? And this really was a two-person job. And Saboraak was going to be obstinate if I didn’t work with him.
“I’m Tor Winespring,” I said. “And if you fail me in this, you will wish you’d never heard my name.”
Good work. The two of you are off to a great start already.
Was that sarcasm? Had she finally found that missing sense of humor?
Chapter Fifteen
WE WAITED UNTIL DARK – though not in the tent. I was right that it wasn’t Bataar’s. It belonged to a female Magika.
“She’ll be back soon,” Bataar had said after I laid out what I needed from him. “She’s studying these new trends from the Kav’ai people.”
“Trends?” There were a lot of books in the tent. Some had illustrations, but they looked more like grisly monster books than like geography texts. Not that I knew what those would look like. I could read, sure, but I didn’t do much reading beyond signs hanging from inns and taverns.
We will need to see to your education as soon as we can. Reading is essential to the forming of a refined philosophy.
Another thing I had no need of – philosophy.
“The Kav’ai traditions are all the rage these days,” Bataar said. “You should see what the nobles of Ko’Torenth are like around them! Wander into any Ko’Torenth city dressed as a Kav’ai on a flying Oosquer and you’ll be mobbed by excited fans. They dress like Kav’ai, do the Kav’ai morning rituals, drink tea in the Kav’ai way and now everyone wants to know about the Kav’ai magic – Smoke Magic.”
“Don’t worry about her studies, just grab one of her cloaks to disguise yourself and let’s go.”
If my plan worked. Bataar would provide the distraction and in the chaos, I would dive into the central tent, rescue Zyla, and call Saboraak to come and get us all.
Three people is a lot for me to carry. Try not to pick up any more strays, okay?
I couldn’t help which way the adventure took me. After all, I didn’t even want to be here. Rescuing girls wasn’t really my thing. Weren’t they supposed to rescue themselves? I thought someone told me that once.
If I believed the things you think about yourself, I’d think you were a terrible person.
We needed the cover of darkness to make the plan work. Along with the cloak, we stole a pair of lanterns, hiding them behind the tent. As long as no one saw them there and replaced them before dark, we should be fine.
After that, there was nothing to do but wait.
Waiting together would have been asking for trouble, but I wasn’t longing for Bataar’s company anyway.
I sat near a cookfire until someone offered me a bowl of stew and tried not to look like a half-starved wolf when I gobbled it up. After that, I spent the rest of the afternoon pretending I already knew about all the things I was carefully observing. If I had known Magikas were so interesting, maybe I would have chosen to join them instead of the Dragon Riders.
A lost cause. Their power dwindles, and they revolt against that. Fighting the inevitable is a losing battle. It’s better to adapt.
That was harder for people who couldn’t just change who they were on a whim like Saboraak did.
I was most interested in the smoke magic Bataar had mentioned, but I didn’t see a trace of it. What I saw instead was Magikas practicing light tricks and fireballs. Magikas brewing potions and testing droplets of them for effectiveness. Magikas deep in discussion about things surrounding magic.
“... lucky we found this well of power,” one told another. “Imagine the chances of setting up a camp here!”
“There was no chance in it,” his friend replied. “It was all careful planning. We always knew there was a risk to joining the Dusk Covenant in their efforts.”
“Risk, yes, but no one could have predicted what happened. Truth magic? I’d never seen it before.”
“And hopefully you will never see it again. It can’t be controlled. And you saw what it did to the Ifrits! Until that point, I thought they were the most powerful magic to ever exist. But this attack today ...”
“You don’t think they know about us, do you?” the man sounded jumpy.
They noticed me watching and I moved on, keeping my gaze to the ground to avoid suspicion.
“...at the gate,” a woman was saying at the next campfire. “Do you really think there might be more artifacts like that? I didn’t know such magic existed.”
“I’ve heard rumors,” a man replied, “but all of them lead to Ko’Torenth and you know how those people are – cold and hard as their mountains.”
I heard the same conversations again and again – resentment over their loss at Dominion City, hope in Ko’Torenth, and all of it laced with rumors of strange m
agics and fear about what had happened at the road.
Eventually, dusk fell. I almost breathed a sigh of relief at the single rising star.
It was time to begin.
I moved nonchalantly through the camp, smiling when anyone looked at me. I’d grabbed a basket from beside the entrance to a tent, playing the role of apprentice as well as I could. I’d been watching other apprentices all day and they’d been busy delivering things from tent to tent for their masters. There was nothing strange about one more apprentice on an errand.
“Are you headed to the center of the camp?” a breathless voice asked.
I managed to keep myself from jumping and instead adopted an easy smile, shoulders relaxed. Nothing to see here.
When I turned to look, the voice belonged to an apprentice. He was about my age with dark, brooding brows and a thick thatch of hair.
“Sure,” I agreed. “I have a basket to deliver for my master.”
“I’ve been given too many tasks and all need to be done before dark!” He had a leather satchel stuffed with cloth over one shoulder, a second one with loaves of bread peeking through the top of it over the other shoulder, and a wide basket in his arms. Whatever was in the basket must have been heavy. He was sweating and shifting from foot to foot.
“It’s dark already.”
“Exactly! Can you help me?”
I didn’t have time for this. I frowned.
“Please? If I fail at this ... I’ve failed the last three tests. This is my last chance!”
“Fine,” I growled, reaching for the basket, but he set it on the ground and handed me the leather satchels instead.
“They both go to Shabren the Violet’s tent. You know the one? Red and white?”
“It would be hard to miss.” I couldn’t keep the wry sound from my tone and he looked at me sharply. I sighed. “Don’t worry. I’ll get it done.”
“Right away?”
“Before I deliver my basket,” I agreed. I needed to get moving again. I was running out of time. Bataar was going to start that distraction any time now. And I was heading to Shabren’s tent – though not to deliver satchels.
Dragon Chameleon: Episodes 1-4 Page 7