Small rooms led off from the main room through jagged doorways with no doors. One led to a room with water flowing slowly down the rock, another to a room with a stone-carved lavatory, another to a dry storeroom. There were barrels and casks sealed within. I grabbed a crowbar and cracked a small cask open. It smelled of cider. Tasted like cider, too. My eyes grew big as I looked around the storeroom. If all of this was food, we could live here for months!
I snatched up a slip of paper lying on the shelf beside the cider and read it in the lantern light.
Tor,
I’m assuming you found the food first and this note. There is coin at the back of the shelf. Please use it sparingly. It may be hard to get more to you.
There are doves on the upper floor. Use them wisely to send messages through my network. If we have been separated, please send a report immediately.
If we were separated, then no doubt the note I gave you brought you here. You may have no idea of how vital your role here is.
Gather as much intelligence as you can on the Doors of Heaven.
If a man arrives in the city with Ko on his arms, this will begin a disruption in Ko’Torenth society that will ripple throughout the world. Send word to me immediately if this happens, but at all costs, avoid the succession war that is bound to follow.
Avoid the Exalted, except to gather information on them. I think specifically of an Exalted by the name of Apeq A’kona of the House of Flame. I do not know what he is planning, only that he seems to be entangling half the city in his scheme.
We are most keen to find out a few things. Watch for these:
First, are the Magikas fleeing the Dominion allying themselves with Ko’Torenth?
Second, has Ko’Torenth found a solution to the problem of magic disappearing from the world?
Third, does Ko’Torenth plan to continue their covert operations against the Dominion?
A succession war would certainly delay all of these outcomes. While that would be beneficial to the Dominion, I caution you in the strongest words: Do not start a succession war. Do not search for a Door of Heaven. If you find one, do not touch it. Avoid entangling yourself in the affairs of Ko’Torenth or becoming known to any of the Exalted.
I will return to you soon.
Hubric.
Oops. Too bad I didn’t find that note sooner. I would have at least pretended to try not to break all of his rules if I’d known what they were.
I looked up from the letter to find Bataar in the doorway. He leaned one shoulder against the wall, arms crossed over his chest.
“How long have you been a spy?” he asked.
Chapter Two
MY MOUTH FELL OPEN. I shut it with a click and then grabbed the cask of cider and shoved it at him to cover my pause.
“Here, take this out by the fire. I’ll bring something to eat.”
He rolled his eyes, but he took the cask and I opened a sack on the bottom shelf, grabbed a handful of white potatoes from it and followed him to the common room, shoving the potatoes on the hearth close to the fire.
“That’s it?” he asked.
“I’m not a lord’s chef. Just be glad there’s food.”
“There’s enough food and supplies here to keep us stocked for months,” Bataar said. He was looking healthier. His clothing was loose, but his drawn face was warm with color again. The bracelet must have worked well. “I found another sleeping room and a room filled with clothing – all sizes and types. You’re a spy.”
I ran a hand through my hair. I still didn’t know if I could trust Bataar. I never had known that. He saved my life last night – but he could have his own motives for doing that.
I sat on the hearth, warming my back by the blazing fire. He stood opposite, arms crossed and a scowl painting his face.
“I don’t know who you are,” I said. “I don’t know if you can be trusted. The only thing I know for sure about you is that you have those marks on your arms. And you knew what that door was. You shut it when people were trying to come through, didn’t you?”
I didn’t like sitting when he was standing, but the fire felt warm at my back. And I wasn’t going to stand up just to make a point. What did I have to prove?
Don’t stand. It will increase the tension of the confrontation. Take a sip of that cider instead.
I swallowed and reached for the cask of cider. There were no cups nearby. I sipped cider right from the cask as Bataar’s frown deepened.
“What do you want to know?” Bataar asked.
“Who are you?” I took another sip.
“That’s complicated.”
“Where are you from?”
His mouth hardened. “Kav’ai.”
“I know nothing about Kav’ai.”
He shrugged. “We are desert nomads. Ko’Torenth claims the land we wander on. We say they are only settlers there. We are the land’s true inhabitants. Now that their magic is running out, they want ours.”
“Does that have something to do with your arms?”
“What if it does? Are you a Magika, that you would regulate magic?”
I shook my head. Talking to Bataar was like walking without shoes in the winter. His arrogance could freeze a puddle in midsummer.
“Why are they hunting anyone with those marks?” Maybe if I kept my tone friendly he’d at least try to be helpful.
“I don’t know. I was unconscious when you brought me to this city. I know they are ... picky ... about who they allow to wear them, but how they would know that anyone has them ... ?” He shook his head. “Who would be fool enough to show them off?”
I felt my face flushing. I had shown them.
“What were you doing in Shabren the Violet’s camp?”
“I was fleeing Ko’Torenth – looking for safety in the Dominion – when he scooped me up as a captive. He didn’t know who I was, but they didn’t want anyone to go south and tell the people there about the Magika camp.”
I poked the potatoes, turning them so the heat of the fire would bake them evenly. Maybe there was salt back in that storeroom.
“Why would you flee Ko’Torenth?” I asked.
He looked away for the first time, gaze running across the wall and then the ceiling as if he were trying to avoid answering at all.”
“Why would you flee Kav’ai?”
Eventually, he spoke, his voice hoarse and thin. “There are prophecies about me. I don’t want to end up like that. I won’t end up like that.”
I cleared my throat. “Maybe you won’t. Prophecies are just words. They have no power.”
He laughed, a dry, mirthless laugh. “Words have ultimate power, street boy. They will drive me mad.”
I almost rolled my eyes. Saboraak always complained that I was too dramatic. She should listen to this guy.
He makes a strong point.
Really? This guy?
“Now, do you trust me?” Bataar asked.
“I’m not a boy, I’m a man.” I was – technically. Nineteen was a man, right? I was probably nineteen. Maybe twenty. Okay, maybe eighteen. I wasn’t really sure. I was some age in there, but definitely a man.
“As you say.” He shook his head like he just didn’t care.
“What do you want?” I asked him. If I knew what he wanted, I’d know if I could trust him.
“I want to escape my destiny. I want to get rid of these Ko.”
Get rid of them? That seemed impossible.
“Are you allied with any of the Exalted here?”
He flopped down on one of the cots, throwing a forearm over his face. “No.”
“Do you plan to sell me out to earn their favor?”
“No.” His voice was muffled by his arm.
“And Zyla and Zin?”
“What about them?” His words were hard.
“Will you betray them?”
“No.” His answer was fast.
“Are you going to mess with that doorway?”
He spat to the side of the cot so violently
that I flinched. “If I never see another doorway, I’ll die happy.”
I sighed and poked the potatoes. I had his word – for all the good it did me. Words were nothing. Ephemeral as spider web.
“Are you a spy, Tor?”
“I am,” I said. “And now that we have that out on the table, you are going to tell me everything you know about the Doors of Heaven, the Ko and the Exalted families here.”
“Can we at least eat those potatoes first?”
“Sure.”
After all, maybe we’d both be in a better mood with full bellies. The potatoes, it turned out, were surprisingly good.
Chapter Three
YOU CAN’T SPY FROM inside an isolated cave. That was the first thing that occurred to me as I drifted off in the cot beside the fire. Saboraak had crawled over to place her muzzle along the side of the cot as I fell asleep. Oddly, it felt nice to have her acid-smelling breath beside me. No one snored like a dragon, but even that was comforting. When I woke in the night with wispy memories of friends I hadn’t seen since they died, of fire ravaging my city, of falling through the air – well, a dragon snore is a very solid thing.
We were going to have to leave the hideout to discover things. And we were going to have to gather information. It had taken me hours to decide if I would really trust Bataar last night. He had napped in the cot while I finished cooking the potatoes and investigating the other rooms.
Read his mind for me, I urged Saboraak. Tell me if I can trust him.
It’s harder than you might think. Sometimes you just have to take a gamble with people, Tor.
I liked gambles, but not where people were concerned. It was too hard to cut your losses if things went bad.
When we were eating the baked potatoes I eventually said, “Do you still want to go to the Dominion?”
Bataar sighed. “What’s it to you?”
“I’m still worried I can’t trust you.”
“But?”
“But I have to trust someone. I’m worried about Zyla and Zin and I have a ... task ... to accomplish.”
“Are you saying that if you can trust me then you’ll let me help with the task?” His eyes had a surprising light in them.
That’s hope.
“Sure,” I agreed with a shrug. I didn’t really want help, but I didn’t really want to be stabbed in the back either, and having him nearby meant I could keep an eye on him.
Bataar surprised me, rolling up his sleeve to show me the bare skin underneath. “Follow me.”
He led me to the door and showed me the skin again, standing out with the silver-bright tattoo his arms had when I looked before. I noticed – now that I could see the whole thing – that it was a stylized bird soaring over mountains. The Ko.
“I received these Ko at the Door of Heaven in Ashadana of Kav’ai. By these marks I swear, you can trust me.”
I scratched my own arm awkwardly. There was no way I was going to show mine.
“Okay, so I’ll trust you. But why do you want to work with me?”
“You’re spying for the Dominion, right? My people are threatened by Ko’Torenth, too. Maybe if I help you, I won’t need to fulfill any moldy old prophecies. We can overthrow this place with just human actions. No magic. Just ingenuity.”
I put my hands up. “Whoa! No one said anything about overthrowing anything!”
“Don’t be naïve. Your Dominar wouldn’t have sent spies if she wasn’t planning on moving on Ko’Torenth. If she attacks, they’ll forget about the Kav’ai, and I won’t have to be the Ko Bearer. I can just be Bataar Bayanen – son of Mynaar, son of Lataar, Chief of the Stone Basin Kav’ai and my people can continue their traditions in peace.”
“What are your traditions?”
“Like I’d tell you!”
I shook my head trying not to sigh. “You can keep your secrets, Bataar, so long as you tell them to me if it turns out I need to know them.”
I needed to know everything. I hated that he wouldn’t tell me, but he would slip up eventually and his secrets would all come tumbling out. I just needed patience.
People never really kept secrets. Secrets were like mice. You could box one up, but it was always looking to get out and the second it saw an opportunity it would be squeezing through whatever crack it found and scrambling all through the house.
Bataar’s secrets were no different. They wanted to get out and show themselves to old Tor. I just needed to be patient and let them do the work.
“Deal,” Bataar said. His first mistake. I always turned deals to my advantage.
But we went to sleep in peace and the next morning we were both more cheerful as I cooked breakfast over the fire. I’d washed and then found a fresh set of clothes that I rather liked. They were certainly grander than anything I’d worn before. I was almost certain that the white shirt was made of real Baojang silk and the close-fitting leather trousers, knee-high boots, bracers, and leather vest were well made and durable with just enough buckles and trim to make them fashionable. My clothes were fine enough to pass for nobility or a well-to-do merchant, but plain enough that they wouldn’t look strange on a craftsman or traveling bard. I even found a new fur-lined cloak to wear when I went out. The clothing alone made the trip to this cave worth it.
For my part, I think I will shift to a new pattern, Saboraak said in my mind. I have never liked Gold.
To be honest, it didn’t really suit her.
Over on her side of the room, she morphed from Gold to Black – it really didn’t matter which color she chose. The war had dispersed dragons in every direction as they fled wholesale defeat at the hands of Ifrits and Dusk Covenant that any color of dragon may have ended up here. The frill around her head disappeared and large horns sprouted from her head and chin.
I grinned wickedly at Bataar’s shriek of fear.
“It’s a demon!” he yelled, leaping onto his cot.
“It’s Saboraak,” I said calmly, scooping porridge into bowls and handing him one.
“He – ”
“She,” I corrected.
“She just changed her shape and color!”
“She does that.” I took a bite of porridge, keeping my face straight. I was enjoying this.
“This is the same dragon that saved us before from the tents of Shabren?”
“You didn’t know that?”
“I thought this was a different dragon!”
I laughed.
“Do they all do that?” Bataar asked.
“You mean the other dragons?”
“Yes!” He got down off the cot gracelessly. I liked that. Bataar was always so smug about his good looks and flowing graceful movements that it was nice to see him thrown off his game. He was dressed like me in clothing found in the back room, but instead of a leather vest and bracers, he wore a fine red brocade coat that made him look even nobler than I did.
“They’re all male out there. Only the females can shift color and shape – and now that you know that you are my Secret Bearer. So, don’t tell anyone.”
He snorted. “Secret Bearer is a sacred title. You can’t just swear someone to secrecy with it.”
“Okay, let’s put it this way,” I said, taking a bite of porridge. “Keep the secret or Saboraak will make you regret it.”
She hissed dramatically, baring her teeth.
You know I won’t hurt him.
He didn’t know that, though. Bataar looked pale as his gaze danced from Saboraak’s snarl to my stern gaze.
“Of course, her secret is safe with me. She makes the perfect spy, though, doesn’t she? No one can tell which dragon she is at any time. If you got to know which dragons are in the cotes, she could impersonate any of them. Especially if one had a rider who looked anything like you.”
Now that was an idea with potential. I mulled on it as we finished our breakfast and prepared for the day. This time, I packed little items like a pocket knife and a flint and steel in a small belt pouch. Some of Hubric’s gold made its way into
the pouch, too. Things on this mountain were unpredictable, and I didn’t want to be caught out again.
My last trip was up a winding staircase to where doves were housed in a small dovecote. It was open so they could come and go. Was that normal? Hopefully, the dove I chose would actually take the message to Hubric and not just fly off. I carefully attached the handwritten scrap of paper I’d prepared to the leg of one healthy-looking dove.
It read: In Ko’Koren. Ko revealed. Door of Heaven found. Magikas gathering. Collecting more information. T.
It would have to do for now.
Chapter Four
IN EVERY CITY THERE are entertainers. They can sit on any street corner and juggle or play an instrument or perform an act and no one pays them much attention except to throw a few coins in their hat if they find the act to their liking.
Before heading out, I had reluctantly changed my cloak from the warmth of the lush black one to a threadbare cloak at the back of the room. There were clothes here for every purpose and the items that went with them and a little rummaging had found an appropriate cap and juggling balls. Perfect.
It had been even harder to leave Saboraak behind for the day. I was worried she would be bored.
Since I met you, I have sustained many injuries and seen little sleep. I need time to regain my strength and that means a deep dragon sleep. Don’t get into trouble. I won’t be able to hear you when you call.
With that, she had gone silent, eyes closing and breath slowing. Well, that was one problem sorted out. Our next problem had been finding the way back to the city without being seen, but we were lucky enough there, too. One of the corridors leading off from the room was a long cavern that eventually ended in the wine cellar of a boarded-up building in Balde.
Bataar and I had argued the whole way up the corridor about how we would go about spying, but eventually, I had won. He would traverse the cities to make his way to Eski, check to see that the girls were okay, and return undiscovered. It would also be nice to know if the Door of Heavens had been damaged in our escape, but I wasn’t sure if he could find that out without discovery.
Dragon Chameleon: Episodes 1-4 Page 22