The Dragon Knight's Curse (The Dragon Knight Series Book 2)

by D. C. Clemens

  Anticipating that I had entered a cornered thief’s territory, I took every step seriously and unsheathed my longsword. I judiciously looked through the little windows lining the wall, observing a typical temple layout that consisted of worn stone pews, crumbling pillars, and unlit metal braziers. On reaching the entry, I outstretched my left arm and cast my illusion spell, sending the visual copy of myself running inside. Nothing reacted to it.

  For the next phase of preparation, I summoned a mix of explosive stones and fire stones. I then chucked them randomly into the religious construction. They rattled without interference, even their own echoes didn’t blend into one another. There was nothing left to do after that but for my real self to go in.

  Though no longer active, crossing the threshold made it the first time I stepped inside a holy place. I had gotten glimpses of it from the outside before, but my curiosity never reached a point where I listened to a sermon or experienced a priest’s unearned hospitality. The pecking impression that my impure spirit had no business occupying the hallowed space was quickly replaced by not giving a shit. Blood was likely to be spilled, and I needed to make sure it wasn’t mine.

  The inner balcony continued to my left and wrapped around to the other side, expanding enough to fit more pews at its center. My right side held the stairs. Stepping toward the edge, I focused on the nearest stones and triggered them. The flash from the exploding rocks didn’t die down before I saw the zymoni dash out from behind a balcony pew. It became a blur of shadowy speed as it charged my way, emitting a noise that sounded as though a saber-tooth cat was trying to bark like a dog. From this distance I saw that the beast had two trim tails and a wolfish snout. Before it crossed the range of my blade, it used its strange, gecko-like paws to cling to the wall behind me. The beast then leapt down and headed for the stairs.

  “It’s a distraction, boy!” said Aranath.

  I was in the middle of coming up with that very same conclusion. I whirled back around just in time to avoid a thrown knife. At least, I avoided most of it. If I hadn’t, it would have impaled my thigh rather than only grazing it. The thrower of the weapon stood behind a pew, a short scimitar in hand. She was a tall, lean woman in her early thirties. Her long black hair was tied into a ponytail and a light caramel color dyed her skin. The only defensive pieces of clothing were her steel gauntlets. Otherwise, she wore thigh-high leather boots, a dark blue corselet, and a short skirt. Even drenched in shadows it was plain to see that her composed face was the type men wanted to wake up to in the morning.

  Knowing it wasn’t a good idea to have the zymoni out of my sight, I started retreating to the stairs. As I did so, the woman strolled out from behind the pew with casual grace. Halfway down the stairway, I caught the zymoni staring up at me from the middle of the temple floor. I almost took a rough dive when my foot slipped on a step. I initially thought I suffered from a lapse of concentration, but the sudden wooziness overcoming my senses forced me to consider another possibility.

  My wobbling knees struggled to keep me standing by the time I reached the flat floor. My forehead dripped thick beads of sweat and my eyesight only distinguished the thief as a descending blotch. As for my ears, they heard a slurring drunk when the woman said, “Don’t worry, little man, my toxin won’t kill you. I will if your friends show up and are dumb enough to attack me. Now, who are you?”

  “Aranath!”

  The dragon loosened its grip on my corruption. I still felt as though opening my mouth would allow my brain to fall out, but I could move, and that’s all I cared about. I tossed an explosive stone at the beast and triggered both it and every other stone left in the area. The blasts and flickering fire propelled the frightened creature up a pillar. I caught her by surprise, but the thief was skilled enough to deflect an upward swing of my sword. She then pulled out a long, skinny dagger for her other hand to use.

  As expected from a rogue, she used her limberness and agility for quick attacks and evasion. Even without the toxin in my bloodstream, I doubted my ability to match her fleetness. Lucky for me, her lack of defensive strategy made my weapon more dangerous to her than hers were to me, forcing her to choose her movements wisely.

  We were in a dead heat for a minute, steel sparking as they clashed in a flurry of tight slashes and narrowly missed strikes. The fight began to feel more like a high stakes sparring session than a life and death struggle. It would have been different if we were alone and pressured to come up with a plan to overwhelm the other, but both of us were waiting for reinforcements to break the tie.

  “Kara! What’s wrong, girl?! Get our ass over here and help me!”

  The zymoni growled anxiously, her muzzle taking sniffs of the dissipating smell of dragon fire. She started descending the pillar, but her triangular ears picked up the incoming footsteps of my allies. A whip of water twisted out of Clarissa’s hand and went after the zymoni. The creature growled and ascended higher. Ghevont kept Magnus in front of him, but he gained an angle to fire a bolt of lightning at my foe.

  I knew that she knew it was over, but she still went through the trouble of evading the electric discharge, leaving her open for a sweep of my leg to send her on her back. Since she knew what was coming, she was able to maneuver her body to press her longer weapon under my ball sack at the same time I put my blade’s tip to her throat.

  “Let go of your weapons,” I said.

  “Will you kill me afterwards?”

  “Depends. Are you Advent?”

  “Advent? Never heard of ‘em.”

  “Um, you okay there?” Clarissa asked me, keeping her other eye on the growling beast.

  “Fine. All of you stay where you are.” Back to the stranger, I said, “I don’t think we’re enemies. You’ve been watching Magnus, but I’m guessing you really want Corbin Tolosa, right?”

  She licked her teeth. “Possibly. Why does that matter to you?”

  “He helped fuck over my life, so I killed him, but there’s still information I need. Why do you want his letters?”

  “Corbin has fucked up quite a few lives, it seems. Strictly speaking, I don’t care about Corbin, but one of my friends does. I was helping him out with his problem.”

  “Do you have any problems sharing?”

  “Yes, but not about this.”

  I removed Aranath from her neck and stepped back. “Where’d you put the letters?”

  She stood up and nodded toward the left line of pews. “Under the third one. Let’s see if one of your fire rocks didn’t end up scorching my satchel.”

  I sheathed my sword and she did the same. Clarissa let her whip of water drop and the zymoni’s growl became a dull rumble.

  “Come to mommy, Kara! You big pussy.” The summoned animal scrambled down the pillar and whined at her master. Petting her, the thief told me, “You made her nervous. Haven’t seen her like that since she was small enough to carry. Guess seeing you recover from my toxin so quickly freaked her out. How’d you do that, anyway?”

  “I haven’t recovered from it, it just doesn’t affect me as much as it would normal people.”

  Stooping down to pick up her satchel, she said, “A little man who thinks he’s special, huh? What’s your name?”

  “Mercer.”

  “Just ‘Mercer’? No last name?”

  “I would need a family for that.”

  “Orphan?”

  “For all I know. What do we call you?”

  “Lucetta Ambrose.”

  “Hi, Lucetta. I’m Clarissa Lorraine and the red head is Ghevont Rath-, um, yeah, Ghevont Rath. Sorry about Mercer, but he literally meets everyone by putting a blade to their throat. It’s how I met him.”

  “Me too,” said Ghevont.

  Lucetta chuckled. “Sounds like a friend of mine.”

  “Have you looked at any of the letters yet?” I asked Lucetta.

  “Just a few, but nothing interesting yet. Do you want to read them now?”

  “I first want to leave Magnus with the guild.�
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  “Wouldn’t it be easier to kill him?”

  “Yes, but he’s merely an easily influenced fool, and I gave my word that I wouldn’t kill him once he did all he could for me.”

  She shrugged. “Suit yourself, little man.”

  Ghevont cleared his throat and said, “Excuse me, Lady Ambrose, but Mercer is at least an inch taller than you, yet you keep referring to him as ‘little man.’ Is your sight well?”

  She laughed. “‘Lady’? That’s a first. Aye, he’s a tad taller than me, but I compare him to far larger men I know.”

  “I see. An appreciated insight.”

  I started to make my way toward the entrance, prompting everyone to follow me.

  Before she strode outside, Lucetta kissed the zymoni’s head and said, “I’ll get a nice big fish for you next time you’re summoned.” In a puff of air, the zymoni’s link to our realm was broken, sending it back to its proper home.

  Chapter Nine

  Braden was right about Malcolm, he was a dick. The curmudgeon was upset that I wanted to use precious guild resources to indefinitely incarcerate a man he had no information on. He openly stated that he didn’t like the look of me and didn’t trust my word that Magnus was indirectly involved with the valkrean issue, saying he would release him in six months if his own investigation on Corbin turned up nothing. He also said Braden now owed him a big favor. I was irritated that I would have to check on Magnus in six months, but I otherwise kept my mouth shut and handed the proverbial leash to the guild.

  Once that chore was finished, the rest of us agreed to rent a room. By Lucetta’s insistence, we found a nice chamber overlooking the sea. She paid for it herself with what I imagined were filched coins. The third-story space held two large beds I couldn’t lay on without falling asleep, so I sat in a hard chair. I wouldn’t have minded catching a few winks before plunging through the papers, but my corruption continued fighting off the toxin’s effects. A good rest didn’t seem possible for another hour.

  Lucetta didn’t concern herself with the threat of sleep and jumped into the bed nearest the door. She sprawled her lithe body onto the sheets and ruffled them under her. Clarissa, glad to have an adult woman to emulate for once, did much the same on the other bed.

  After we each grabbed our share of papers, Lucetta asked, “What exactly are you guys looking for?”

  “Corbin worked for a group called the Advent,” I explained. “They’re a cult responsible for the valkrean attacks and have funded experiments in dark magic. As I understand it, Corbin was responsible for seizing assets, living or otherwise. I’m sure no letter will explicitly state his or the sender’s involvement, but anything that sounds vaguely cryptic should be put aside for a closer look. Names that come up often should also be noted.” Lucetta had started reading her pile in the middle of my expounding, but it was easy to see she was the type who could take in information from different sides at once. “What are you seeking?”

  “Same thing—weird stuff.”

  Getting more comfortable, she pulled her boots off her toned legs and tossed them aside. She then let her hair loose and laid on her side, her ass pointing straight at Ghevont, who sat by the window. Clarissa giggled when she noticed the scholar’s unblinking eyes scrutinizing the shapely figure. Ghevont shook his head and focused on the task at hand when he learned what he could by simple staring. I was more subtle in the glances I garnered.

  There was a good bundle to sift through, but between the four of us, it didn’t appear so daunting. As before, most of it concerned legitimate business transactions, at least as far as I understood the convoluted verbiage of commerce. I set aside a few papers that seemed worth a second glance, but that meager stack didn’t inspire confidence that there would be a trail to follow. That didn’t matter. All I needed was a single letter. Half an hour after we started reading, I got it.

  Ghevont gradually rose from the chair. He then just stood there, blocking part of the daylight. The meticulous man read it a second or third time before saying, “This is something.” He walked over and handed me a short letter. It was dated a month ago and said:

  To C. T.,

  It took some time, but my informer found the family from Remron. They’ve settled in Bukuna. Don’t know if you still want to add to your collection, but the job will cost extra if you do. They’re within the walls and they’ve hired extra bodyguards. Things are only getting busier on my end, so respond quickly if you want this done. You can find them at a house they call Equine Manor if you want your own men to handle this. Remember, the next drink is on you.

  K.M.

  “Can I see?” asked Lucetta.

  “Is it something?” Ghevont asked as I stood to hand the letter over to the petitioner.

  “It’s the best we have so far.”

  “Wait,” said Lucetta after reading the message, stopping me in my tracks. “Why do you care about this family?”

  “I don’t actually know if I should.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means I have no memory of my time before the Advent experimented on me, but I know they got me from somewhere. Right now I’m looking to see whether Corbin went after a family I don’t remember.”

  Lucetta sat up and swung her legs so they dangled off the side of the bed. She cocked her head and stared at me like a probing Marcela would. “This friend I’m helping, he’s searching for his children, two brothers who lived in Remron with their aunt. One of them would surely be around your age, the first taken. The younger brother was kidnapped three years later. You don’t look much like him, but he did say his kids took more after their mother. Hmm, if you’re really his son, I guess that makes me your step-mother.”

  “So you’re married to this friend of yours?” asked Clarissa. “To Mercer’s maybe-father?”

  “We never went in front of a priest or anything, but we basically are, as in I’ll kill him if I catch him with another woman. At least not without inviting me.”

  “What’s his name? What are the names of the brothers?”

  “Lorcan Eberwolf is my man’s name. Alexandros is the younger brother and ‘Cyrus’ might be your friend’s real name.”

  Everyone turned to look at me, waiting to see what I thought of this possibility. The names did nothing to spur any memory or emotion, so I coolly asked, “Do you know if others were taken from Remron?”

  “A few other kids, both in the first and second forays.”

  “Then I can be any one of them as well. Where’s your friend now?”

  “He’s investigating a lead further south. He should be coming up to meet me in a week or two, but if you’re thinking he’ll be able to identify you as his son, I wouldn’t count on it.”

  “Why not?”

  “He told me the last time he saw his children was when the oldest was four years old.”

  “Then why does he care about his sons now?”

  She shot up to her feet, looking serious for what could have been the first time in her life. “He might have not been there for his sons, but that sure as fuck doesn’t mean he didn’t care!” She realized her agitated state and relaxed her voice and shoulders. After a shallow breath, she said, “Lorcan wanted to raise his children, but their mother’s stuck-up family wouldn’t hear of a pirate getting involved with their blood, so they chased him off. I don’t know if you’re his son or not, but Lorcan is a man to be respected when you meet him.”

  “I’m sure he is,” said Clarissa. “Mercer is sorry for the ignorant remark, right Mercer?”

  “Sure,” I said. “I apologize, Lucetta.”

  She sat back down in a huff. “No, don’t be sorry. I’d normally slap a girl if she talked the way I just did about their man. It’s vomit inducing, really.”

  “So Lorcan is a pirate?” Clarissa tried clarifying.

  “That’s the closest depiction most would brand his deeds, but he’s no heartless brigand terrorizing every ship he sees. He’s simply a man who has the spirit and capac
ity to live as freely as possible, and no one can tell one how to live in the open sea. If he has to support that life by stealing a few things from other thieves or defenseless ships of trade, then so be it.”

  “I believe you’re gushing again,” Ghevont pointed out.

  “You’ll be gushing blood if you mention that again.”

  Refocusing her, I said, “Lucetta, I’ve yet to hear about the mother of these brothers.”

  “Aye,” she said dolefully, already answering my internal question. “Lydia Duncan. She died of illness soon after her second boy was born. It was a little later when Lorcan visited his children, but they were watched closely by their stuffy aunt, so he had no opportunity to take them for himself.”

  “I see.” I sat down and pondered a moment. “Where’s Remron, anyway?”

  “It’s a three or four day ride up the Dunmire from Bukuna.”

  Not liking my long silence, Clarissa asked, “Well, what are you going to do?”

  “Assuming we find nothing else, I’ll head to Bukuna tomorrow and find out what I can from Equine Manor. Lucetta, what’s the aunt’s name?”

  “Rosemary. She’s married, but I don’t know her man’s last name.”

  “You’re not going to wait for Lorcan?” Clarissa asked me.

  “Bukuna is about a three day trip by ship, so I should be back within a couple of weeks to see him. I’ll know by then if I’m meeting my father or not. For now, let’s just finish off these letters.”

  Nothing else in our piles pointed in another direction, though Clarissa found another mention of the “K.M.” initials. They were referenced in casual passing from somebody who also only used their initials to identify themselves in their note, using the letters “F.L.” The message itself appeared to continue an unassuming conversation between friends, but I was aware it could have been a cipher playing a deception. Any letters that looked suspicious in that regard I gave to Ghevont for further study.