She started stuffing things into her pack. Halfway through, she noticed he hadn’t moved.
“Now, Thom! We have to go!”
“I’m not going anywhere until you explain to me what is going on.” He folded his arms across his chest.
Stunned, she tried to pull all the jumbled thoughts together. “Fine,” she said. “But we talk while we pack. The rest I’ll tell you on our way out of town.”
“Agreed.” He nodded once. “Now, whose blood is it?”
Did she have to make such a mess with the Collector? How was she going to avoid this one? She wasn’t. The truth seemed the best option here, so she squared her shoulders and took a breath. “A Collector. For the Temple of Yenoh.”
Thom’s eyes moved to the cot where the chest lay, half exposed, under her cloak. Oh, no, he thinks it was just a robbery. Quick, explain this!
“I didn’t steal it. I took it. I mean… I took it to give back to the people he stole it from.” Seeing his skeptical look, she added, “And he’s not dead.”
“Stole? A Collector is supposed to collect tithes, it’s what they do, Mey.”
Tying the strings together at the top of her pack, she slung it over one shoulder as she recalled the way Maxus seized the necklace from the woman. The story the woman told about her husband and the Collector’s lewd response to her concern for his whereabouts made bile rise in Mey’s throat.
“No, it wasn’t only a tithe.” She felt heat rising through her middle but kept it down, refusing to let it spread. “His methods of collecting were tyrannical at best. He took more than he should!” Her voice rose but she didn’t care. No doubt in her mind she had done the right thing.
She was so tired. Not just from tonight, but from all of it: Weeks sleeping on the ground, traveling through dangers no one should have to face, the constant tension of having to always be on her guard, mentally fighting with a sentient dragon hell-bent on having blood at the slightest shift in the wind. It wore her thin.
She dropped her head wearily into her hands as she sat heavily on the cot.
“Why don’t you start from the beginning?” Thom urged.
Raising her eyes, she witnessed the acceptance she craved. His eyes widened and she caught the rapid flicker of surprise passing over his features.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
He wasn’t getting out of it that easily. She stared at him and repeated herself, more forcefully this time. “What?”
His hand came up and lightly touched her face. “Your eyes.” A slow smile spread across his face, the undertone of sadness unmistakable. “Silver suits you.”
She understood. They had transformed completely. This last unleashing of her dragon blood had caused it. Each time, her dragon nature consumed her a bit more. The worry and fear that she would fully lose herself surfaced for a moment. She couldn’t think of that now, it would have to wait.
She broke his gaze and stared down at her hands. Blood caked the crevices and dried under her nails. I look like I’ve slaughtered an army. Her clothes, arms and hands were covered with sticky red stains. She felt the tightening as it dried on her face.
Loud banging on the door took away any words she would have spoken. They both jumped. Shouting in the hallway and more banging. Mey shook her head to clear her thoughts.
“Meylaran,” a muffled voice, her uncle’s, called insistently through the door. “Open the door.”
She blinked and jumped into action. Two strides had her at the door. She opened it to Bob and Durlag, eyes wide with urgency. Elerbee stood a few paces behind them nervously shifting from foot to foot and picking at his robes.
“Here.” Bob shoved her sword and bandolier into her hands. “We have to leave.” He pushed past her as she stood there, dumbfounded.
“What’s going on?” Thom asked.
Bob eyed him critically before answering. “They are searching the temples. Apparently the Descendant has been seen in the city.” His eyes met hers, took in her appearance, eyebrows rising in silent question.
“Lass,” Durlag said, worry coloring his words. “Are you hurt?”
“Hurt?” Mey repeated. Then remembering she was covered in the Collector’s blood: “Oh, no. It’s not mine.”
A smile broke Durlag’s serious visage. “Oh, well, then. That’s me girl. Who was it? Some overzealous mage need puttin’ in his place?” He threw a wink in Thom’s direction.
Completely ignoring the dwarf’s obvious attempts at levity, Thom directed his questions at Bob.
“What are they saying?”
“That someone is hiding the Descendant. They suspect the Sirrahn temple because they are sympathizers to the dragons. Elerbee is staying with the temple leaders to talk to the guards.” Bob acknowledged Elerbee, lurking in the corner, with a nod.
“We have to go now.” Already, Mey was buckling on her sword belt and bandolier. She grabbed her cloak from the bed, stopping short when she saw the chest. Vaguely aware of the conversation around her, she opened the lid, took the necklace from the top, and slid it into her pouch.
“…underground,” Bob was saying. “We will use the network of tunnels beneath the city. Elerbee will meet us outside the walls.”
“Hrumph,” Durlag snorted, sneering at the priest. “Probably can’t stand the thought of having to step your precious, lily-white foot into the sewers.”
“I’ll have you know-“ Elerbee began, but Thom interrupted the tirade before it began.
“Do we know which way to go?”
Elerbee shot a glare at Durlag before he said, “Here is a map from the temple archives. It’ll get you outside the west gate of the city.”
They were all moving, pulling Mey along as they headed for the door.
“Wait.” She planted her feet. “There’s something I have to do first.”
“Meylaran, we really do not have time for this.” Bob was ushering the others on.
“Then go without me,” she said, stubbornly standing her ground. “I have to do this, uncle.”
Bob opened his mouth to scold her again, when Durlag came to her defense.
“Nonsense. Whatever ye have to do, we’ll all go. Can’t have ye wanderin’ the streets alone after what’s gone on.” He looked up at Bob and with unusual sternness toward the elf, he added, “They’re lookin’ fer her. I won’t leave her and neither should ye. She’s yer kin!”
Precious seconds passed. “Alright,” Bob finally conceded, nodding. “We will all go.”
Looking to Elerbee, she asked, “Will you ensure these belongings are returned to their rightful owners? That the money is distributed among the people?”
“Of course,” he answered immediately. “You have my word.”
The four of them left the room, Bob leading. Mey glanced once over her shoulder, and saw Elerbee, chest tucked tightly under one arm, watching them leave.
Down the hall toward the back of the temple was access to the tunnels below the town that served as a sewer system. The grating on the floor was already open for them when they arrived
A foul smell assaulted her nose the moment she lowered herself into the dank passageway. Thinking about where the smell originated would definitely have her losing the contents of her stomach. She’d actually had to sleep in worse places over the years; she just had to let her senses adjust.
One by one, they lowered themselves down, Durlag crashing down unceremoniously, with as much noise as possible.
“We’re headed to the street that runs beside the temple on the western side,” Mey told them. “I could see it from my window.”
“Do you care to tell us why we are making this little detour?” Thom asked her.
Mey met his gaze squarely. “I saw the Collector bully a woman on the street. He took this” - she pulled the necklace from a pouch at her hip - “from her. I intend to return it.”
They all looked at her but it was Durlag who spoke up.
“Um, lass, I find it hard to believe that ye survi
ved as a thief on the streets if you be givin’ back things ye’ve taken.”
She shot him a sour look. “I tracked the woman down. She told me her husband has been missing for weeks. She has run out of money to buy food for her babe and was uncertain how she would pay another month’s rent.” She paused to swallow the hate bubbling up through her core and into her throat.
“A Collector had taken the last memento of her husband. A necklace he gave to her. She’d considered selling it but didn’t want to lose this last part of him.” Narrowing her eyes, Mey continued. “He took it from her. Snatched it from her neck, claiming it was to pay her tithe to the priests who keep the town safe. She tried to explain but he only suggested that perhaps he could return at night to keep her company.”
She forced the last words through clenched teeth, not realizing she had balled her hands so tightly the knuckles were turning white. Thom took her hands and eased them open with his touch.
Sparing a concerned glance at Thom’s ministrations, Bob pulled a rolled parchment from his pack. “Light?” he whispered to no one in particular.
Reluctantly, Thom released her hands and whispered words to produce a soft light above them. Looking over the crude drawing, they were able to pinpoint their current location and trace the path they needed to take to find the street Mey referred to.
They made their way along the narrow, slick stones. With Durlag in the middle of the line, Bob leading, that left Mey and Thom trailing behind. Thom used their position to his advantage to question her further about what happened with the Collector.
“Who was he and how did you find him?” Thom asked.
“Maxus, Collector for the Temple of Yenoh. I started asking around as to his identity. The clearly distinguishable strawberry mark across his cheek made him easy enough to find.”
“This is where you disappeared to when you claimed you wanted to commune with the priests?”
Ducking her head to hide the guilt she knew would be plain on her face, she nodded.
Then the words came tumbling out. She couldn’t stop them; it was like a release of all the anger, fear, and loathing she had kept inside.
“He stole from them! If they couldn’t pay, he would take their most precious possessions. It meant nothing to him to push his own advances on her; he didn’t care! He kept half of what he collected, so he took more to fatten his own pockets. Robbery, that’s what it—“
“Slow down.” Thom put his hands up. “Tell me, slowly.” His voice softened.
Mey knew Durlag and Bob were listening, although they kept their gazes ahead and feet moving forward, the underlying urgency to leave the city behind like an itch they could not quite reach.
“I found his home, intent on taking back what he’d frightened and terrorized the people into giving. I had a plan, but Makagesh was so persistent in his longing for blood, that-“
“Makagesh?”
“The dagger.” Her hand automatically reached for the handle at her hip. Realization dawned - she had not told Thom about the sentient weapon. The only person she’d spoken to about it was her uncle.
It was out now. Might as well confess that, too.
“The dagger I picked up in Seaside. It’s inhabited by a dragon. A dragon with an insatiable appetite for blood.”
His steps faltered. “A sentient weapon?” he whispered, eyes glazed, talking more to himself than to her. “That explains a lot.” He turned his attention back to her. “Please, go on.”
Rushing through the next events, she relayed the rest of the story. “I cut off two of his fingers as punishment for robbing the people. I took his collections from today and came back to the temple.”
The group fell into silence as they maneuvered the twists and slopes of the sewer tunnels. Mey wasn’t sure why she felt so strongly about correcting this one small wrong in the world, only that she must. This wouldn’t be the end, though. She had a whole world full of people counting on her.
**********
He loved her.
It had been on the tip of his tongue to tell her, but it would be a mistake.
Watching Mey, Thom questioned if she felt as strongly. He, on the other hand, had been doomed the moment he laid eyes on her.
There was no denying how he felt; he did love her. Her beauty had drawn him in at first but now, everything about her was desirable to him. She was tough, graceful in battle, headstrong, and goodness shone from her soul, whether she was willing to admit it or not.
Damn it all, he was supposed to protect her, not lose sight of what was most important.
Knowing her intent to return the woman’s necklace and all the gold in the Collector’s chest made his heart swell with pride. She was truly beginning to put the people of Cantor before herself, just as dragons had always done throughout history.
But the physical changes scared him more than he would let her know. What was the purpose of it happening so rapidly? He pushed the thought to the back of his mind; he would ask the Circle when next he contacted them.
He had given up trying to orient himself in these tunnels in comparison with the city above. He was careful to breathe through his mouth. Thom was sure if he let the odor linger n his nostrils he would spend the whole trip throwing up, the smell was so nauseating. Had Elerbee been there, he could have created a barrier for them against the elements. Where was the damned priest when you needed him? He always seemed to be there at the most inappropriate moments.
“Halt,” came Mey’s whisper.
Above them was a large grate.
“Boost me up, so I can see,” she told her uncle. He lifted her easily, standing strong as she balanced her feet perfectly on his shoulders, working the grating to the side. Sticking her head out of the opening, she looked around.
Ducking back in, she said, “This is it.” She jumped down, landing silently on her feet.
Thom watched her face as she withdrew the necklace from the pouch. Her eyes softened as she looked upon the delicate necklace. Then, determination hardened the silver into iron.
Durlag was first out, as it took all of them to lift him up and push him through the opening.
Declining Bob’s offer of assistance, Thom took a small stone from a pouch and whispered words of a spell that lifted him upward and through the opening in the street.
“Might’ve been useful for these old bones to have that spell,” Durlag remarked snidely.
Thom laughed once. “Only works for the caster.” He shrugged. “Sorry.”
“Hrumph.”
Bob pulled himself out next. Thom turned to help Mey from the hole to find her standing, not even winded, directly behind him. She grinned and with a wink, moved to the head of the group.
“There.” She pointed. “I’ll go first and make sure there are no guards. I’ll signal if it’s clear.”
The others moved to the darkened alley between two of the tall apartment houses, while Mey slid silently into the shadows hugging the buildings. Immediately Thom lost sight of her form. He strained to hear her movements but the only noise was the wind blowing mournfully down the alleyway.
Concentrating on his breathing, Thom tried to slow his heartbeat, which thudded in his ears. His eyes darted constantly all around, unable to see more than a few paces ahead of him. He felt exposed, knowing there were people after them. Stay calm. You can silence the area if necessary. That would only work if they weren’t listening for a signal, but he was ready if any guards surfaced.
A high-pitched whistle broke his thoughts. If he hadn’t been ready for a signal, the noise would have blended flawlessly with the wind around him. Taking a deep breath, he followed the others into the street.
They made it without detection to the narrow building. Mey knelt in front of the door, hands moving so quickly the door was creaking open before Thom realized what she was doing. Under normal circumstances, he would have protested the need to break into a stranger’s home, but normal had fled his vocabulary from the instant he had met her.
&
nbsp; They slipped inside the darkened room. Thom the only one at a disadvantage with his human sight. Doubtless, the others saw everything in stark detail.
He heard whispers, a gasp and the whimper of a baby. Light flared, revealing the cramped living space in which they stood. Table and chairs, cooking stove and washing bin all graced the one room. As his eyes adjusted, Thom saw a woman holding a small babe close to her breast in the only doorway other than the exit. She blinked away sleep, confused as she took in the small band of adventurers that had taken over her home.
“We met earlier, remember?” Mey’s voice was soothing. “I asked about the Collector.”
The woman nodded and pulled her child closer.
“I have something for you.”
Reaching into the pouch at her waist, Mey produced the necklace. It glinted in the light thrown from the small lamp. She held it out where the woman could clearly see.
A sharp intake of breath filled the woman’s lungs and a small noise escaped her lips. Tears sprung to her eyes as she looked, unbelievingly, at Mey.
“How…?” she said, her voice strangled, too overcome to finish the thought.
“It’s yours, isn’t it? It was wrongfully taken from you. I’m here to return it.” Holding the delicate jewelry out further, she said, “Take it. It’s alright.”
The woman reached a shaking hand and Mey gingerly laid the necklace in her upturned palm.
“Thank you,” she whispered. She lifted her tearstained face to Mey. “But who are you that you would care?”
Mey smiled tenderly at the woman, then said, “My name is Meylaran.” She reached out and smoothed a hand over the babe’s head. “People call me the Descendant. Most importantly, I am your justice; yours and all people on Cantor.”
Thom coughed to dislodge the lump forming in his throat.
Bob spoke up. “We need to go, ta’wae.”
Mey nodded. “Right.”
They left as quietly as they had come. Thom did silence the dwarf’s movements this time. Quiet was not Durlag’s strongest attribute. They made it back to the opening without incident and lowered themselves down to continue on to meet Elerbee outside the city.
Reborn (The Dragons of Cantor Book 1) Page 21