I gather his house is of the minor nobility and he mostly keeps them afloat with trade at this Jadefire House of Marvels. Do me a favor and keep in constant contact with me. I’m going to get bored looking out the window all day.
Like I had a choice. She would just read my mind anyway.
You owe me a favor. I caught you when you leapt from a ledge.
Fine, fine. I’d remember to keep in contact. I strapped on my belt and hid the axe around the side of it where the cloak would cover it.
It’s too distinctive. People will notice.
It’s an axe.
There are oak leaves on it.
Well, there was nothing I could do about that.
Hand it over.
Reluctantly, I moved to the front of her cote and laid the axe on the ground before her. Was she smiling? That grin looked wicked.
Stand back.
I stepped back as a small burst of flame seared across the axe and then her huge talon scored across it, flipping it over with a flick of her claw and scoring the other side.
You should wait for it to cool.
I gaped. The axe as unrecognizable. Not only were the etched oakleaves gone, but a black soot coated the axe and huge gouges marked the axe head. The handle was fine, but seriously, she completely maimed my weapon!
I marked it. Now it has your mark.
My mark? I’m not the one with talons!
We are one and the same. Your oath said as much.
Well, I couldn’t say no to that. Not when I owed her. Not when I was starting to like her. I stamped out the smouldering straw around the axe and grabbed a rag from the hooks in the wall to scrub the soot off the axe. After a few minutes in the cold, it had cooled enough to be moved.
“Almost ready?” Zyla called to me.
“Coming.”
I reached tentatively toward Saboraak and she met my hand with her snout.
“Call me if you need me and I’ll be here in a flash.” I felt guilty leaving her here, but I needed to help with Bataar and Zin. There was just no way that Zyla could move them herself.
I’m a dragon. You’ll need me. I won’t need you.
If that made her feel better, then she could believe it. I grabbed the axe, still warm to the touch, jammed it in my belt and hurried to help Zyla carry an unconscious Bataar out the door.
Zyla and Zin were dressed in matching grey cloaks, green scarves, and green dresses that had some sort of structure to them that pulled tight around the midsection. They looked very pretty, and the structured dress and green flames stitched into the dress drew the eye away from their faces – a good thing when we were being hunted.
“Help me with Bataar,” Zyla said as she finished wrapping a blanket around him. I helped her lift him, noting that Zin still had her nose buried in the book of prophecies.
“Men are looking to steal that book, Zin,” I said mildly. For a moment it seemed she hadn’t heard, but then she tucked it in a pocket in her skirts and calmly opened the door for us. Maybe she’d recover after all. Despite her faraway look, she’d at least noticed the door.
My hopeful feeling faded when I saw Apeq standing outside the dragon cotes with an expensive-looking cart and a pair of those strange, shaggy yudazgoats.
His smile was smug and self-assured, and his black hair looked like it had been oiled. Worse, now that he wasn’t trying to find us, he was dressed like the rich man I was beginning to suspect that he was, in a fine silk coat of broad yellow and white stripes and a black silk cape with a cord that tied across his chest. I doubted it helped much with the cold, but it made him look like a man who could buy and sell me.
I scowled at the way that Zyla greeted him. She didn’t need to be so friendly. Scowled at the way he seemed so concerned when we laid Bataar in the cart. Scowled when he ordered a man dressed in his livery to get the yudazgoats going.
“You don’t mind walking beside the cart to watch Bataar, do you boy?” he asked me. “As long as you are in my livery, it’s important that everyone sees you serving me.”
My scowl was so deep when I assented that I worried it might stay in place forever. My only comfort was the memory of his green face when he rode my dragon.
Jealousy will blind you. Ignore his wealth and power. Focus on his good points.
Like his ability to steal Zyla’s attention?
He can’t steal from you what wasn’t yours to begin with.
Her reasonableness was getting irritating.
Chapter Six
THE TREK THROUGH THE city was worse than I had anticipated. By the time we were halfway to the Jadefire House of Marvels, I was already blushing red from chagrin. Without Apeq’s help, we wouldn’t have moved more than a single level out of the dragon cotes. At every stairway and rampway, there were guards or men from one of the Exalted families searching carts and bags and questioning passersby. They were looking for a lone man on a dragon and another man who was sick.
“The Exalted thank you for your help,” they told each person. But the ‘help’ was not voluntary. The weapons of the guards were on full display. Their armor looked strange to me, as if someone had modeled them after the cliff birds of this region. Their helms had a metal feather sweeping up and back over the head and under it, a series of real feathers formed a swept-back crest. Large feather-like panels of metal comprised their feathers, layered downward in pairs over their chests and across their backs. Their faces were set in unreadable expressions.
Twice, I was certain they were going to hold us up because of Bataar, but each time Apeq flashed a charming grin, offered them a green-sealed letter and a bow, and each time they let us past. I watched Zin at every stop, worried that she would show the book and one of them would seize it.
Now that I knew those prophecies might be about me, I just had to read them. Losing them would be a terrible blow. Sweat formed across my back despite the cold air. I took care with every glance, every movement not to draw attention to myself. Skies and stars, but I hoped the others were careful, too!
We were only two levels down from the royal level and all the way across the Eski mountain peak when I saw a building in the distance that spanned two levels. The building was painted a dark charcoal with a roof so steeply pitched that it was almost a cliff-face and scrolling woodwork under the lip of the roof looked like golden lace. There was a wide door at the top level equally decorated in intricately woven golden carvings. On either side of it, green flames leapt a full pace in the air in golden braziers, and banners hung beneath each round window with the green fire picked out against charcoal. The windows were filled with wooden lattice and something obscured my vision when I tried to peer inside.
Paned glass. I have heard of this marvel.
No wonder Apeq looked wealthy! He was marvelously wealthy. Which begged the question: why was he working for Hubric? Because if he was Zyla’s contact here, then he was a spy like us, a traitor to his country.
Don’t jump to conclusions. Watch and wait.
I wanted to respond, by my breath was sucked away when a pair of men in livery stepped smartly in front of us, hands raised.
“Ex-“
“Soldier,” Apeq interrupted with a smile. “How may I be of service?”
“Our apologies but the Exalted House of Tanagers seeks the Ko. We will search the arms of every man here, if it please you.”
It was clear from their tones that they would do it even if it did not please him.
My mouth went dry, my heart pounding. I glanced quickly behind me at the pressing crowds waiting for their turn through the narrowing of the boardwalk. I would be hard-pressed to squeeze through those people if they wanted me to pass, never mind if I was trying to escape.
“Surely there is no need, Exalted,” Apeq responded. “These men are in my employ.”
“Our apologies to House Jadefire, but even you are not exempt. Please, Ex – ”
Apeq interrupted him again. “We will roll up our sleeves.” He laughed and seemed completel
y at ease as he rolled up his sleeves to show his forearms. “I’ve never been complimented on my fine forearms. Perhaps today will be the day.”
Zyla joined his laughter and despite the tension creeping over me, I felt a stab of irritation at the laugh. The other man in Apeq’s livery already had his sleeves rolled up and Zyla was hurrying to Bataar’s place on the litter. Why wasn’t she worried?
Why would she connect you to the man who dove from the arches last night? She has no idea that they are looking for you.
Wasn’t it a little suspicious that Saboraak had to rush to my rescue?
She didn’t know why. She thinks she has nothing to fear.
I swallowed, sweat forming at my brow.
She was wrong. We had everything to fear.
The Exalted’s guard inspected Bataar’s arms and then looked at me. I glanced around worriedly. What if I charged forward? But there was just as much of a crowd ahead of me. I couldn’t move freely without being stymied by all the people. I could leap over the rail ...
No! I am not near enough to save you this time. Pull a hair-brained stunt like that again and I will roast you alive. Just show them your arms. Maybe something will come to you while they are in shock.
“Tor,” Zyla was saying urgently. “Show them your arms.”
They were right in front of me now, hands on the hilts of their swords. I cleared my throat. It felt like I’d swallowed a mug full of mud. I couldn’t seem to breathe naturally.
“Tor!” Her urging this time was a sharp hiss.
Reluctantly, eyes still searching for an escape, I rolled up my left sleeve. I was waiting for the gasp or the shouted order.
“Both sleeves,” the man demanded.
Stunned, I looked down. There was nothing on my arm but smooth brown skin. My heart was pounding so hard that I couldn’t hear the man, but he seemed to be repeating his demand. Hurriedly, I rolled up the other one, too. Nothing.
The other guard inspected Bataar’s bare arms and then they were waving us onward before I could roll the sleeves back down.
I felt like someone had kicked me in the gut. What happened? Where were the marks?
An excellent question, Tor. We will have to be careful.
Chapter Seven
I WAS SO STUNNED THAT I wasn’t paying attention as we neared the Jadefire House of Marvels.
Remember. Watch and wait.
Oh, I was watching alright. I watched as we found a backdoor on the lower level and Apeq whispered something to a ‘servant’ who was leaning casually against the wall beside the door. The servant was twice as wide as I was and taller, too. I watched as Apeq whispered something to Zyla and she laughed. What made a laugh sound like music? Could I make music that sounded as good as that laugh? That would be a neat trick.
Focus.
I was watching when Apeq ran a considering glance over me before motioning me and his servant to lift Bataar and follow him inside.
Oh, I was watching, alright. I was watching everything.
The Jadefire House of Marvels was even bigger on the inside than it seemed to be on the outside. The entire place was built around a central spiral staircase with so many ledges and nooks and small rooms that you could spend all day looking for something you had lost. Upon entry, I finally realized what the place was.
Apeq was a dealer in curios.
He seemed to have no guiding principle in what he chose to sell.
There were odd looking masks of metal or wood, statues ranging from the size of my smallest finger to one at the center of the spiral staircase that rose almost to the top of the second level, mirrors and instruments and rods of various lengths, rings of metal, rings of stone, rings of wood, displayed on shelves or in cases or hanging on walls, things that looked like weapons but glowed strangely. And that was just a list of things I could put a name to.
There were devices or ornaments or weapons there that I found impossible to name or even properly describe. All of them called to me, as if my curiosity was lit aflame simply be being near them. I felt a warmth in my chest as I entered the room that never really left.
I reached toward the first statue in reach and Apeq slapped my hand away from it. “No touching the merchandise! What am I supposed to do? Sell it with fingerprints on it?”
I turned my attention back to Bataar. It was odd that there were no customers or staff in sight, just wall upon wall of interesting things.
My eyes were huge from the moment we walked in the door to the moment we reached a back room and Apeq directed us to lay Bataar down.
“I’m afraid I couldn’t move all the overstock out,” he said, feigning sheepishness at the splendor that spilled over into even a backroom with a cot. Even the bed frame around Bataar’s cot seemed to be valuable. The tangled metal that formed the four-post bed twisted in ways that boggled the mind. “But I did find a healer.”
I froze, bracing myself for one of the oak-leafed goons I’d met before. My hand hovered near the axe. I was still rattled by the inspection outside and now this unexpected place was giving me the jitters.
Whatever is happening there, you should know that something is happening here, too.
Apeq ushered a middle-aged woman in a simple dress and apron into the room and I slumped with relief. There were no oakleaves on her attire.
Remember the building we hovered under? The one where we overheard the people speaking of not using the ropes to pull up supplies?
How could I forget?
The woman examined Bataar under our watchful eyes, laying a hand across his forehead and inspecting his leg where the bolt had hit him. She bandaged the wound there, but she couldn’t stop shaking her head.
There have been people coming and going from that building all day. It’s strange. They’re of every status in this society and foreigners, too.
I felt a pull at her words, as if I should be there investigating instead of here, but I knew better. Bataar needed us.
“This wound cannot be healed by natural means,” the woman said.
Told you.
“Do you know another way?” Apeq asked. I hated how wise and sensible he sounded and hated even worse how much Zyla smiled when he spoke.
The woman frowned. “I don’t deal in magical arts, Ex-” He held up a hand and she paused, smiling. “Honored Apeq. If one of your marvels did this, you’ll need to consult the Oak Order. My work is done with herbs.”
“Can you give him any herbs to help?” Zyla asked, her voice thick with concern.
“They will only delay the inevitable, but yes, they may delay it by a few hours,” the woman said. “Give me some space to do my work.”
We left her to it, squeezing into the corridor beyond and following Apeq down a winding staircase lined with bookshelves. Books of every size and binding imaginable filled the shelves and were stacked or wedged on top of the orderly stacks so that there wasn’t an inch of space not filled with books. I couldn’t keep my eyes from widening. I’d never seen so many books in my life.
“I have a place for your sister here, Zyla,” Apeq said, ushering us below. “Madame Rosen can see her after she is done with Bataar.” He seemed to notice me suddenly. “We don’t need you for this, boy. Go and find the kitchens. You look like you haven’t eaten in a month.”
I flushed, but it was hard to be angry at anyone who was offering me free food.
Besides, we have to think about this warehouse. Something odd is going on in there.
Well, I told you we should have investigated.
I feel ... drawn to it. It calls to me.
Ha! So, she criticized me for being drawn by danger and she was no better. This house of marvels was impossible to navigate between the narrow corridors and winding staircases.
Before I could finish the thought, the narrow corridor I was traveling opened to a huge room, three stories tall. The ceiling was shaped like a half of a sphere and painted with golden constellations over a blue cloud background. Someone had embellished it with white
intersecting lines and notations. Beneath the ceiling, rose a large bronze contraption of spinning gears and wide concentric bands. Round spheres ticked slowly along ratcheting paths and the entire thing made a whirring sound that was oddly comforting.
There were chairs along the walls with small tables. The tables were useless as tables since every inch of them were covered with scrawled papers and books of notes. Around the room were tall, wide windows with those strange panes of glass that warped the world outside. They let light in, but the figures beyond were blurry as if I was looking through deep water.
I tried to inspect the central contraption, reaching toward the nearest sphere when a hand on my arm stopped me. I whirled and almost bumped into a man with a tray. He wore Apeq’s livery.
“Who are you?” he asked, his eyes narrowing. There was a strange gleam in them.
“I work for Apeq,” I said.
“You most certainly do not, boy. I am Vern Redgers and I run the staff. Here,” he shoved the tray at me. “Eat something and try not to disturb the device.” He looked around with a frown. “In fact, don’t touch anything in this room.”
I took the tray and sat at one of the overloaded tables. The tea was hot, the toast buttery, and a fruit I’d never seen made my mouth water with its tart smell and deep red coloring. I didn’t wait for someone to come and snatch it all away. I started eating immediately. If the tray was for someone else and they noticed the mistake they would be back for it, but by then I would have had my fill.
When I had eaten far more than I could hold, I took three of the eggs off the tray to juggle. I needed to think. Juggling helped with that.
We had a problem – Bataar.
He was a wanted man and if he died there would be questions. Worse, I had a feeling that Zyla would never forgive me if I didn’t find a way to make him well. Apeq was doing his best, but his best wasn’t good enough to heal Bataar.
I juggled the eggs round and round and thought about the problem.
Dragon Chameleon: Episodes 1-4 Page 17