“You’re insane,” was his only response to that. “The girls, yes. I will check on them. The door can go back where it came from.”
“And where is that?” I had asked, but he shut his lips tightly, compressing them into a firm line.
I had an equally challenging job, though Bataar had claimed it was the easier one. I worked my way up through Balde to the upper levels, juggling on boardwalk corners and crossways near to inns or important houses. I was trying to collect whatever information I could. Even here in Balde there were house guards checking for Ko, but they didn’t trouble me. It was daylight. As long as I didn’t stay out beyond dark, I was safe enough.
I heard scraps of conversation as I went.
“They say the Exalted of House Tanagers have welcomed the Magikas from the Dominion,” one woman said as she passed me. I strained my ears as she paused nearby with a well-dressed friend. “The other Exalted won’t want them to have an advantage, so everyone will want to bring these Magikas into our lives here.”
“You should think about offering them a cheaper price at your inn, then,” the other woman said. “Succession war or not, people still need places to stay. And of course, your inn is the best, the home of the Kav’ai artifacts.”
Sometimes it was hard to remember that these people treasured lying, and then other times it was plain as the nose on your face.
“Hush, Sash!” the other woman sounded horrified but she looked pleased with the flattery. “No one has spoken of a war ... yet.”
They looked around furtively before hurrying away, but I shivered and almost dropped a ball. If every Exalted house in the city welcomed the Magikas, they could establish a powerful base here – maybe powerful enough to attack the Dominion again. I hoped that part was a lie, too, but I was worried there was truth to it.
I traveled up another level, still listening as I took a place beside a fancy house with stylized bird banners. Guards were stationed at every entrance, their glances trailing any passersby, but I began my juggling, hat placed at my feet, and they ignored me after that.
“Exalted House Ye’Kut is throwing a Midnight Masque!” a young noblewoman said excitedly as she passed me. Her golden dress swirled in the gusts of snow, peaking out from under her thick snow-fox pelt cloak. I was so distracted by her big eyes and pretty smile that I almost dropped a juggling ball. She laughed, tossing a coin into my hat and her companion, almost equally pretty pulled her past me.
“It’s a pity that parties have to be masked. It feels like such a shame to cover our faces! And I barely have time to have a new mask made! The one I had before was in the old style and it just isn’t fit to be worn. The Masque is tomorrow night!”
Their chime-like voices were caught by the wind after that and blew away, but my mind was racing. A masked event thrown by the Exalted. What better place for a spy than that? I could almost bet that there was a mask in the items back in Hubric’s hideout.
The wind was growing colder and the stares of the guards were starting to unnerve me. Time to pack up and move on.
I was just about to retrieve my hat when a familiar laugh caught my ear. I froze, gaze whipping up to see Apeq and Zyla strolling arm in arm toward the house with the Bird banners.
“You are most kind Apeq – ” the rest of Zyla’s words were caught by the wind, but as she passed her gaze caught mine and her eyes widened. She saw me! She gave a quick shake of the head as she passed, as if she was warning me not to try to talk to her.
I gathered my cap up, my heart racing. She was with Apeq – who I now knew was one of the Exalted and who I was almost completely certain had betrayed us just last night. And she was smiling and laughing as if she was completely safe. Blood rushed to my head and it took all my self-control not to rush in and snatch her away from him.
As they drew up to the door of the great house she glanced over her shoulder, caught my eye again and gave me a fierce warning look. Whatever she was up to, she didn’t want me interfering with her.
My breath caught in my throat.
Apeq said something and her musical reply drifted to me over the wind.
“A Masque? How delightful!”
That settled it. Bataar and I were going to that Masque.
Chapter Five
“ARE YOU SURE SHE’D want us to be there? If she was scowling at you, she might want us to leave her alone,” Bataar protested as I shoved a mask in his hands.
Like I was going to let Zyla run this whole show. She kept thinking I was incompetent, but hadn’t I been the one who had saved her sister from the Bright Redemption? Hadn’t I been the one who saved her out of that tent? I could handle spying just fine without having my hand held all the time. I couldn’t wait to see the look of admiration in her pretty eyes when she realized how I’d managed what she couldn’t.
I shrugged a fancy brocade coat on – similar to Bataar’s but blue instead of red.
“It doesn’t suit you,” he said as I buttoned the front. My tiger’s eye pendant slipped out of my shirt, catching the lantern light and I tucked it hastily back into my shirt. Bataar froze. “I’ve seen that on you before, haven’t I?”
“The coat? I took it from the back.” Why were the buttons so small? It was like they weren’t even designed for men’s hands.
“No, the pendant. That’s heartstone.”
“We call it a tiger’s eye,” I muttered, fumbling with a particularly tricky button. I wasn’t made for noble clothes. Give me a proper manly coat any day of the week over this peacock-bright thing.
“It’s not a tiger’s eye,” Bataar argued. “They’re similar, but a heartstone – they have magical properties. Like the Doors of Heaven. They are made from the same mineral – the rock that forms from the souls of our ancestors.”
“Because that’s not at all weird,” I muttered. Oh great, now the buttons were crooked. Frustrated, I pulled the coat apart and began to button it again – this time from the bottom.
“Do you know what this means?” His voice was high pitched in his excitement.
Couldn’t he just leave me alone to dress in peace?
“I bet you a silver coin that you’re going to tell me.”
I buckled on the wide belt Zyla gave me when we flew into the city. It didn’t really match the rest, but it felt ungrateful not to wear it. After all, she gave it to me. Other than the pendant that Bataar was so obsessed with, no one had really given me much. I still felt bad about losing that cloak from Hubric.
“Have you had any extra protection against magical attacks?” Bataar asked, his eyes still alight.
“No,” I said gruffly, but I froze. Because I had been protected, hadn’t I? When that magical lightning hit Bataar he had been so ill he needed extra healing, but when it hit me it only left a small burn.
“I knew it,” Bataar said triumphantly, reading my expression and not my words.
I scowled. I hated that he always knew everything. Why couldn’t I know something he didn’t for a change?
“And are you drawn to the doorways? Drawn almost inexorably to them?”
“In Ex what?”
“Are you drawn to them in a way that you can hardly fight? Like, they pull you?”
I clenched my jaw. They did pull me. He didn’t need to know that.
Bataar’s jaw clenched, too and he reached toward my neck. “That’s mine, by right.”
“Whoa!” I threw my hands up, taking a quick step back. I shoved the pendant into my coat. Out of sight, out of mind.
“This was a gift from a friend. It’s not whatever you think it is. It’s just a gift, okay? So, you can keep your hands to yourself.”
Bataar stayed back, but his eyes narrowed, and he seemed poised to jump again. Boy, was he touchy.
“All heartstone belongs to my people,” he said, his slight accent stronger as if to prove the point. “And so anything made of it belongs to us. That means the Doors of Heaven and that means your pendant.”
“I don’t see you banging down
the door of the Bright Redemption demanding the doorway back,” I protested.
“Don’t think I won’t! Any of the Exalted here would go crazy if they knew that place held a Door of Heaven! They consider them sacred just as we do and have tried to take them from us.”
“Why do they want them so badly?” Instant travel was nice, but it hadn’t worked out so well for the Magikas on the flying carpet. They’d plunged to their deaths and that could happen to anyone.
“The Code of Ko’Torenth states that whoever bears the Ko of a House is the rightful ruler of that house. It’s an idea that came from when they were our brothers, but no one has worn the Ko in a century or more.”
I was adjusting this ridiculous facemask when I paused. “Wait. Are you saying that by right you should rule whichever Exalted family has that eagle symbol?”
He flushed. “The Exalted House Tanagers. And I’m not sure if it’s an eagle or a tanager.”
“And I bet the Exalted house Tanagers wouldn’t like that much.”
“Why do you think I was running to the Dominon?”
Well, now things were making sense. Bataar was slated for greatness – or instant death. And he was fighting that destiny as much as I liked to fight my own.
“Why would they just show up on your arms after a century?”
“The Doors choose their master. It cannot be forced.”
I swallowed. I didn’t like where this was going. After all, one of these Exalted houses would probably like to kill the guy with the smoke on his arms as much as the House Tanagers would want to kill Bataar.
He continued, “Every year the children who have come of age from the houses of the Exalted line up beside the one door they have access to. It is a grisly journey up a steep cliff with ropes and picks. They each try to master the door and they each fail. They have failed for a century.”
I knew that door. I’d flown through it myself. But why would this Door of Heaven refuse the brave, noble, mountain-climbers? They were hero material if there ever was such a thing. And why would they choose me? I was nothing but a kid with a bit of luck and a dragon friend.
“I shut the Door of Heaven in the lower level of the Bright Redemption,” Bataar was saying. “But anyone with the Ko can open it again. Just because I haven’t heard of anyone else having them, doesn’t mean they don’t have Ko. There are three other symbols that might be out there, and anyone at all might bear those symbols on their bodies. The prophecies are clear:
Four to rule and four to reign,
From four the power of mist came,
From four it will come again,
But who and what and where and when?”
“Well,” I said, grabbing the cloak and wrapping it around me. “That doesn’t sound very threatening. It just sounds like a silly riddle for kids. Put on your mask and let’s go. We have enemies to spy on.”
“There’s more,” Bataar said as he tied on his full-face mask. His voice grew muffled as he put it on.
“Woe to those who gain the marks,
Feel the power of depths it sparks,
Destruction raining down on man,
On every house and every clan.”
“Oh yeah, that’s specific,” I said. “I can see why you’re worried. Oooooh! Destruction! Ooooh! Nameless threats. Get back to me when there’s something real to worry about.”
The quiet from behind his mask was scathing as I shoved him in front of me down the passageway back to Balde.
I didn’t believe that nonsense. It was only meant to scare children. But I couldn’t help the sense of foreboding that filled me. Two of us were marked. What if there were two more out there, destruction following us all?
Chapter Six
PARTIES WERE A LOT of fun. It was all I could do to keep myself from picking easy pockets as I went. Women wore bracelets so loose that the clasp could be pinched off and the whole thing pocketed in a single motion. The men had fancy fasteners on belt pouches that were more decorative than solid. My fingers itched at the thought of slipping them loose.
Whenever I found a crowd of people, a quick sleight of hand trick – a pulled feather from behind an ear or a flower presented to a lady with the flick of a wrist – was enough to dispel curious glances. There were other entertainers here – also masked, and I blended in with them effortlessly.
I’d lost track of Bataar within minutes of arriving and we weren’t supposed to be together, anyway. The more ground we covered, the more likely we would stumble across some useful information. Plus, he claimed I embarrassed him.
“I can almost smell the foreign drifting off you,” he said. “Your accent is as thick as a rug. Try not to speak if you can help it.”
I hadn’t spoken since arriving, schooling myself to disciplined watching and silent entertaining instead.
The Masque, to my utter surprise, was not indoors. For such a frozen landscape, these people sure liked to do things outside. Instead, extra braziers were lit along the boardwalks with something added to the flames that made them blaze blue and green instead of orange. Green and blue lanterns were hung in strings along railings and over rooftops and where the boardwalks joined or crossed. Hot ciders and mulled wines were served in pewter mugs.
Ladies in fur dresses, their masks a riot of color over the monochrome furs, and men in stark white or black masks laughed or chatted together in knots, drifting apart and reforming as the party progressed. Guards in house colors were dotted through the crowd, and to my surprise, some of them wore masks and drank cider, too.
There had been a stopping point on the spiral stairs when I reached this level and no one without a mask was allowed in. No one in shabby clothing was let in, either. Even the servants with the cider wore crisp, clean clothing.
I’d never been in a place like this or to a party like this in my life. Living on the streets was rarely clean and never orderly. Could get used to this, though. The hot cider alone was worth the trouble.
I looked out over the city from my vantage on the boardwalk, turning to watch the moon rise over the horizon, it’s silver beams gilding the harsh lines and jagged planes of the mountain city of Ko’Koren. Puffs of smoke and mist rose up from the heat spots around the city, swirling in silvery patterns between the buildings and around the tangle of stairways and boardwalks and soaring bridges.
I felt an exhilaration just looking over the scene that dwarfed my own personal goals. This place never ceased to stun me. Tiny flakes of snow – barely a sprinkle – began to fall like a silent army invading. I breathed in long and slow, enjoying the cold air as it hit my lungs. As I exhaled, I heard a voice.
I turned my head slightly to listen better, still pretending to admire the beauty below.
“... just think on it, Ye’kut. House Gamni can aid you. Together we could keep House A‘kona from seizing power. They are too strong. Do you see that little gem Apeq shepherds around? They say she is a dignitary from another land. I heard whispers of Baojang.”
“The women of Baojang are fearsome warriors. Your agents may not be feeding you solid information, Ganmi. House Ye’kut would never make such a mistake.”
Had I stumbled upon a conversation between two Exalted Houses just by pausing here for a moment? I glanced toward them to see a man in a brilliant orange brocade coat and white mask – his figure heavy like a once-strong man weighed down by age and another in an emerald green brocade, lithe and short with a black mask. Best to keep my eyes on the city below. Maybe they wouldn’t notice me here.
“If you want to see House Gamni at work, Ye’kut, then keep an eye out. We’ll strip A’kona of his gem before you can blink.”
There was a loud laugh and I was pushed against the railing as a group of young men and women shoved past me. For a few moments, I could hear nothing but their idle chatter and laughter. One of the women’s skirts rustled as she squeezed past me, her laugh as piercing as a hunting bird’s cry. And then they were gone and when I turned around, the walkway was empty.
Bread and butter! I’d lost them.
I scrubbed a hand through my hair, smiling absently at a man who walked by, his gaze piercing through his black mask. I froze when a swirl of silver met my eye. This time, it couldn’t possibly be my imagination. There was something strange going on with those silver-swirling eyes. And what was worse was that the silver didn’t seem to always be there. Sometimes it was, sometimes it wasn’t, and sometimes it burst into a fury of dust and destruction that still haunted my nightmares.
I needed some of that cider. This spying business was stressful work.
I ambled to the nearest barrel where a crisp servant ladled piping hot cider into mugs. I reached out to take a mug from the serving man and froze. Vern Redgers – the serving man from Apeq A’kona’s Jadefire House of Marvels smiled a sly smile at me as he handed me the mug. Silver swirled in his pupils and the cider sloshed in my shaking hand, burning my hand and wrist.
I hissed, shoving the mug of cider back at him and fleeing into the crowd. It was long minutes of dodging and weaving through people before I remembered I was wearing a mask. I stopped, suddenly, face to face with another silver-pupilled face. This time, a golden mask hid his face, but I would recognize the way the man stood anywhere.
Apeq A’kona.
And on his arm, just as the men had said, was Zyla – her buoyant curls barely tamed by the thick red mask-ribbon that held them back and her mask worked with feathers and bright stones to look like the jade-colored fire outside Apeq’s House of Marvels.
I stuttered an apology and slipped back into the crowd, ducking into the first shadow between two buildings that I could find and leaning deep into the darkness of the shadow, my heart pounding like a drum.
Perhaps, Bataar had been right. Perhaps, I was a poor choice for a spy.
I let my eyes close and took in deep, steadying breaths for what felt like minutes until I could still my racing heart.
“Boo.”
The whisper made me jump, banging my head against the low hanging eaves of the roof above me.
Dragon Chameleon: Episodes 1-4 Page 23