Dragon Breeder 5

by Dante King

  “Yes,” the wormmancer said. “The poultice’s protection has passed. I think, though, that we are sufficiently within the circle of the city to make it rather difficult for Shaykh Antizah’s men to find us.”

  “He’ll know that we are here though, won’t he?” Zala said. “The Master will know that much at least.”

  I took the catmancer by the arm and held her chin so that she had to look up into my face.

  “Remember,” I told her sternly, “you have no other master but yourself, and by the time the sun rises tomorrow, that brand on your chest is going to be nothing but a powerless mark. There will be no bond, there will be no magic within it that you need to worry about. The Shaykh will be nothing more than some stale memory.”

  Zala smiled bravely at me and nodded, her black liquid eyes growing hard.

  “Nothing but a memory,” she repeated.

  “All right,” I said, “now guide us to the best place for us to infiltrate the palace.”

  Zala did just that. My words looked to have instilled the gracefully lethal catmancer with fresh purpose and confidence. She moved, when not acting like just another of milling multitude in which we took cover, like a hunting cat.

  Before long, we were standing in the shadowy lee of one of the outer walls of the palace complex. Above us, rising as sheer as a sea cliff, was one of the massive sandstone walls.

  Happily, our gathering there was not in the least conspicuous. Although it was night, it appeared as if Akrit was the New York of this world: it looked like the place would never go to sleep. There were hawkers and traders and peddlers of all descriptions, as well as people eating and drinking casually in the streets. Thousands upon thousands of men, women, and children of all races were here, yelling and laughing, lamenting the price of this or that, bargaining and cursing.

  Zala motioned us over to where she was standing and procured a bag of strange curly nuts from one of the pockets of her attire. Under the pretense of sharing them with us, she said, “Okay, behind me is a wall that I know for a fact is only patrolled once every hour on the hour.”

  As if on cue, a tower off to our left began clanging out the hour. Zala grinned.

  “This is the perfect time for us to scale,” she said. “Let us wait five minutes and then head up as fast as we can.”

  “Do we not need a distraction or anything?” Hana asked.

  Zala shook her head. “I know how these guards operate and I know how the Shaykh thinks, my Vetruscan friend. The Shaykh will conclude that any disturbance caused this evening is being deliberately done so that he looks left when he should be looking right, so to speak.”

  “You mean, if there’s anything out of the usual tonight, his first move is going to be to lock down the palace tighter than a crab’s asshole?” I asked.

  Zala cocked her head to one side and gave me a funny look. “I would most certainly not have phrased it quite so colorfully, Mike Noctis. But yes, that’s the gist of the situation, indeed.”

  I nodded, reached for a nut in a distracted sort of fashion, and popped it into my mouth. A moment later, I spat it out again.

  “Those nuts taste like shit,” I said, spitting surreptitiously into the gutter.

  Zala tried her best not to smile. “They’re not nuts, Mike. They’re dried pixie excrement pellets used to feed certain kinds of pet fish. They are shit.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Hm. That’d explain the taste, then.”

  Zala shook her head and passed the bag to Tamsin who pretended to take one and eat it.

  “When we get to the top of the wall,” the catmancer continued in a slightly hushed voice, “I will lead the women left while Mike and the wisp will go right. I know exactly how to get to the harem, having spent much time there myself. As for you, Mike…”

  “Don’t worry about us,” I said, indicating Will, whose glow was only just visible if you looked at the ground around Kakra’s feet. “Will can find his way anywhere, once he knows what we’re looking for. It’s a hell of a knack that he’s got.”

  Zala nodded and tossed the packet of pixie pellets into a bush that stood nearby. “In that case, I suppose that we must all wish each other good luck.”

  “We will hold our distraction as long as we possibly can,” Kakra said. “Along with the recruited catmancers we can convince to join us.”

  “Just for as long as it takes Will to get back to you once he and I have found the Shaykh’s inner sanctum,” I reminded her. “Remember, there doesn’t need to be any unnecessary heroics or sacrifices. Everyone do their job, and I’ll take care of the crystal. Once that’s done, old Shaykh Antizah is fair game and we can dispose of him at our leisure, without having to worry about forfeiting any innocent lives in the process.”

  I walked casually over to the wall and leaned against the sandstone blocks. The sandy stone still held a vestige of the blazing sun within it, enough for me to feel it through the back of my stolen robes.

  “Will,” I said, eyeing the wisp, “shall we?”

  In reply, the ethereal little specter darted out from under Kakra’s robes and floated with the speed and silence of an owl up the wall and disappeared over the parapet.

  I looked around to make sure that Will had gone unnoticed before I locked eyes with Hana. “Remember, you keep your eyes open for the first glimpse of Will’s glowing ass returning and then you bail, understand?”

  Hana nodded.

  “It’s not just your safety I’m concerned about,” I said. “The Overseer and General Shiloh, not to mention Queen Frami, wouldn’t appreciate us getting caught and causing some sort of international political incident, you know? I’ve had to polish shields in our armory once before, and I don’t know if I can survive another day doing something that damn tedious.”

  Renji laughed over Hana’s shoulder. “And you didn’t even do that good a job!” the djinn teased.

  I grinned around at my companions, pulled my purloined shemagh closer around my face, winked at Kakra, and then turned. With an effortless bound that would have made Ant-Man proud, I boosted up, out of the light cast by the myriad flickering torches below, and into the shadows above. I didn’t quite make the parapet but used my dragon-enhanced strength and agility to crack the toe of my boot into some loose mortar so that I could jump up again and vault over the edge of the wall.

  I landed like a ghost in a crouch.

  And found myself immediately face-to-face with an extremely surprised-looking guardsman.

  “I guess the patrols are running a little late this evening, with the heightened security, Father,” Pan said helpfully in my head.

  Thankfully, my reflexes were honed and my senses sharp. My Garth-supplied Harpoon Stun spell shot out from my outstretched hand, crossed the eight yards that separated me and the flabbergasted guard, and embedded itself right in the man’s groin. Mana flared briefly through the rose-colored chain that linked us. The man fell forward, stunned and unconscious.

  With reflexes and strength that I had most certainly not had back before the Transfusion Ceremony, I caught the falling body in my arms and used my foot to stop the man’s toppling spear from clattering on the ground.

  I lowered the spear gently to the deck before I dragged the slumbering sentry into the shadows of the wall behind some barrels filled with arrows. Not knowing what else to do, I pulled the sentry’s sword from his belt and bent it into a knot to bind his hands behind his back like a set of makeshift handcuffs.

  I was hoping that the razor-sharp steel around his wrists might stop the young man making any sudden rash movements—such as rolling upright. To make sure he kept his mouth shut when he woke up, I ripped the hem of his purple robe off, stuffed half of it into his mouth, then wrapped the other half around his head.

  “Will?” I hissed, staying low once I had slotted the sentry’s spear into the barrel of arrows. “Will?”

  A slight blue glow down the wall told me where my companion and guide was. I hurried after him.

  Will and
I traversed a long stretch of wall, leaving the others behind us. We stopped to take stock of our surroundings and allowed a pair of guards to march past us

  I whispered, “Will, do you think you can change the color of your glow? Make it more fire-colored, you know?”

  Will cocked his body at me and flashed questioningly.

  “It’s not a color thing, for fuck’s sake,” I said. “I like blue. It’s just if a patrol sees a blue light bobbing around, they’re probably more likely to ask questions than if they see an orangey-yellow light, aren’t they?”

  Will stood still for a moment or two, then his dimmed down glow took on a more naturally fire-like tint.

  “Thank you,” I said. “Honestly, to think I had a thing against blue. Come on, lead on, bud.”

  Things went remarkably smoothly for the two of us as Will and I made our way along the wall, avoiding guards as we went. I was just congratulating myself on concentrating more on Metal Gear Solid than algebra back in my youth, seeing as how the former was coming in so much more handy for me in my present vocation, when we hit our first serious snag.

  The will-o’-the-wisp and I were making our way through one of the extravagant corner keeps, where two walls came together. Will was leading, obviously, and we were in the middle of this damned giant empty room with four corridors leading off it when we heard tramping footsteps growing nearer.

  A lot of tramping footsteps.

  When I say a lot, I had to be realistic in my own capabilities—everything was relative. It sounded to me like there were five sentries approaching, which in of itself would not have posed much of a problem. Nevertheless, we also had to keep a low profile for as long as possible—for as long as it took for the women to start raising hell at any rate.

  “Shit, shit, shit,” I muttered to myself.

  There was nowhere really convenient for a guy my size to hide, nor his spectral will-o’-the-wisp sidekick. I looked left, right, behind, and above.

  Above…

  The sound of marching boots drew ever closer. I had only a few seconds in which to act.

  “Will,” I whispered, “play the role of lamp!”

  With no time to elaborate on what I meant, I slipped Noctis into my Wing Slot and whirred straight up like a champagne cork. Due to the imminence of the approaching guards and the dull hum of my iridescent dragonfly-like wings, I had to cut the spell when I had only just reached the wooden rafters that crisscrossed the ceiling.

  Reaching out, I grabbed a hold of the nearest one and let my arms take the strain. I pulled myself up to hug the beam, in a pretty crude impression of a sloth, as tight as possible so that I wasn’t obviously dangling, and then tried not to breathe.

  A small contingent of half a dozen armed men and women marched into the guard tower from the direction Will and I had been heading. Moving my head ever so carefully and slowly to the right, I could watch with one eye as the soldiers tramped through the space a mere twenty-five feet below me.

  Where the fuck is Will? I thought to myself.

  “Down there, to your right, pressed up against the wall,” Cyan said within my head, with the coolness under pressure that only an adolescent female faced with imminent disaster can muster.

  I looked to where she guided my eye and gasped silently.

  Will was burning, bold as brass and with the same sort of color, against the wall which the group of armed soldiers had just gone marching past.

  “Hey,” a particularly burly woman with broad shoulders and a don’t-fuck-with-me scar down one side of her face, “what’s with the one different lamp?”

  “What are you, the Grand Master’s decorator?” the woman and the head of the group snapped. “Magic, fire, or fairy, who gives a damn what a damn lamp is fueled with so long as it drives back the shadows. Keep moving! There was a report of some strangeness on the east wall. We’re on high alert tonight as it is, so let’s not get tied up worrying about bloody lamps!”

  The soldiers marched on. The sounds of their footsteps receded.

  When I was sure that they had gone, I dropped down from my lofty perch and landed quietly in one of those superhero crouches. Will detached himself from the wall.

  We swapped looks for a moment. If the wisp had had lips or a mouth, or any facial features whatsoever for that matter, I was certain that he would have given a little low whistle. As I was the only one with the equipment, I did the honors.

  Will flashed his assent at the observation.

  “Yeah, that was a close one,” I said. “Let’s keep on trucking and get to where we’ve got to go, pal.”

  The two of us made our way carefully out of the corner keep and back out into the night. It was nice to have the shadows close around us once more. We met only a single other sentry, an overzealous young kid who had a face so eager and alert that I felt like I could hear his ears and eyes straining from where I stood in the shadows observing him.

  I didn’t want to blunt his eagerness, but I felt like he could use a lesson. He was probably one of those inherently good people I should try and persuade into another line of work. How would I do this? By showing him just how easy it was to be killed when you draw your pay as a soldier.

  So, I used my Blink spell to zip right up to him and crack him over the melon before he was done sucking in breath to raise the alarm. He slumped, and we moved on.

  Will floated off the wall and down into a courtyard garden below, and I dropped down behind him. I found myself engulfed by the calming scent of lavender. I waited for a moment as my dragon-enhanced eyes adjusted slowly to the darker surrounds of this fragrant garden.

  I could hear the musical sound of an ornamental stream trickling happily away somewhere up ahead. In the darkness in the center of the courtyard, things glittered strangely at head height.

  “What are those, do you think?” I asked the dragons that shared my head.

  There was no answer initially, but then Brenna, the Ice Dragon, said, “Oh, they’re more bejeweled fruit! I must say, being of the dragoon persuasion, I don’t usually appreciate these decorative flourishes that humanoids seem to get so caught up on, but those really are quite nice.”

  I was pretty sure that I heard Garth and Wayne exchanging sniggers, before Cyan snapped, “You two are so uncultured. It wouldn’t kill you to stop and smell the roses once in a while, you know.”

  “I think you’ll find that rather beguiling perfume is actually lavender,” said the ever-helpful Pan.

  “All right, that’s enough, thank you,” I said. “Let’s keep the family squabbles to a time when your old man isn’t in constant danger of getting stabbed by a—”

  “Spear!” Noctis warned me, his voice cutting through my consciousness like a red-hot scalpel. Even as he warned me, he sent a burst of suggestion to my knees that was so forceful I actually dropped to the soft grass.

  It was a freaking good job that I had taken the hint, as a spear whispered over the top of my dome and stuck quivering into a small and ornate maple tree just behind me.

  With a thought, I sent Noctis’ mana energy into my chest slot so that my Onyx Armor materialized around me, sheathing me. Then, recalling that I couldn’t start laying about me with my Stormhammer just yet, but still had to stealth my way further into the Shaykh’s domain if I could, I used Wayne’s Smog Form.

  “There!” I heard a voice yell as I transformed into a silent, drifting smoky miasma.

  “Where?”

  “Where I threw my spear, curse you, where do you think I saw them?”

  As I moved my vaporous self around the edge of the courtyard, I was able to perceive, though admittedly with some difficulty, four soldiers moving their way as stealthily as robes and armor would allow through the garden. They had evidently just stepped out, by chance, through a concealed door that I had not seen.

  A very, very concealed door, I noticed now.

  I had no idea where Will had got to, but I figured that a door like that leading to a garden filled with jewel-encrusted
fruit hanging from the trees would surely have been put there for the Shaykh’s private use—or the use of his private guards.

  “I see nothing, Majnu,” one of them said, his voice less tense than it had been before.

  “I am telling you, I saw something—a silhouette,” came the reply, though there was an uncertain quality to the tone now.

  “I see nothing. No signs. Nothing.”

  “You better hope that your spear didn’t damage any of the Shaykh’s fruit,” another voice, this one female, said.

  “Jidana is right, Majnu, there’s nothing worse than a spear in the plums, hey?”

  Just went to show—soldier humor was the same the multiverse over.

  As the voices moved off into the dark and the rustling of the guardsmen became quieter, a low throbbing of warm light emanated from out of the gap that they had left in the secret door.

  Will.

  I moved slowly and in absolute silence through the ornate garden at ankle level. Inhabiting this smog form actually became harder the longer I did it, so by the time I snuck my way through the door, I was only just capable of holding myself together. With profound relief, I released the spell and reformed, rather inelegantly, on the floor of a wood-paneled corridor.

  I rolled quickly to my feet and hugged the wall, closing the door silently with my toe and barring it with a handy stout metal candle stick holder that was burning in an alcove nearby. Even as I wedged the door closed, I heard a distant explosion and the glare of obviously magical blue fire painted the walls of the garden a pretty shade of turquoise.

  “And that,” I whispered to myself, securing the door, “would be the female element at work.”

  I looked down the corridor. There was no sign of any other guards. I nodded forward, looking at the wisp that was glowing dully at knee height just in front of me.

  “That way?” I mouthed.

  Will gave me a slow flush of corroboration.

  “Are we close?” I asked.

  Another slow glow of assent, and my spectral guide led the way.

  “Not bad,” I said to the wisp quietly as I padded forward. “All the way over the wall and into the Shaykh’s inner sanctum and we didn’t have to terminally harm a hair on a single guard’s head. I must be getting better at this…”