The Emerald Dragon (The Lost Ancients Book 3)

by Marie Andreas

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Jackal and the other two men riding with him were out of the wagon yelling at the guards. The syclarions held their ground. And their nasty looking pikes.

  “I told you, we’ve got diggers and an assigned dig site. I don’t care who’s behind the government now, we have approval.” Jackal turned back to look at us as we pulled up. “See there? That’s the famous digger from Beccia, Taryn.” He paused as he clearly was trying to recall my last name, but then shrugged. “You should be honored that she and her group are coming to dig here.”

  The guard to the left tilted his head to see better. Both guards wore full armor that encased them in metal from head to toe. Their helmets covered the top half of their faces. Although they were clearly made for the long draconian face of the syclarions, they also had a cross piece over the nose that was popular a few years ago. It might protect against a blow to the face, but it made anyone wearing it look cross-eyed and clearly impaired visibility. “She don’t look like much.” His gravelly voice sent shivers up my spine. I’d say that my distrust of them was due to the whole trying to take over the world trick Thaddeus had pulled with the glass gargoyle a few months ago, except they had freaked me out before then.

  I took a deep breath and got down off the wagon. I didn’t care about Jackal, Locksead, or the rest. However, like it or not my friends were now tied into this mess, and if another part of that weapon that destroyed the Ancients lurked up here, we had to find it. Before the rakasa did. I hadn’t heard that the syclarions were a ruling power up here, but I never paid attention to politics in Beccia, let alone anywhere else in the kingdom.

  “I’m Taryn St. Giles, licensed digger from Beccia under Patroness Qianru Del La Floerin. I’m leading this expedition to your ruins. My foreman should have prepared everything.” I was doing my best to channel the haughtiest diggers I knew right now. It wasn’t easy to look down my nose at two fully armored, seven-foot-high syclarions, but I gave it my best shot.

  I heard someone get out of Alric’s wagon and stomp up behind me. The voice was pure Harlan.

  “I say, what is the slow down? We have too much work to do already and not enough time.” Harlan didn’t even have to work hard to get that snottier-than-thou tone into his voice.

  “And you would be?” the second syclarion asked. Jackal went back to his wagon, waving the other two with him. Had we approached in the order we were supposed to, this probably wouldn’t have been a problem. However, by Jackal being an ass, we now had the guards annoyed.

  Harlan pulled himself up. “I am Harlan of Beccia. I can assure you, I am well renowned in digger circles. As my associate has stated, we have been given passage.” He looked around as if noticing the spiky gate for the first time. “I was unaware that Kenithworth was under martial rule.”

  The first guard started shaking and it took a few moments to realize he was laughing. “This ain’t martial rule. We’ve had some odd creatures attacking the good citizens, so we’re making sure to watch everyone who comes in.” He turned to the second guard and they conferred in low voices.

  I didn’t hear what he started to say as I was then bowled over when a fleet of faeries, followed by Bunky, tore out of the wagon. “We hunt!” Garbage yelled as she raised her stick in the air. They pulled up short when they saw the syclarion guards. Garbage held up her hand for the rest to stay behind her, and she flew closer.

  “You no belong here.” Her voice was a mix of confusion and annoyance. And, if I heard it right, a tiny bit of fear.

  “What the hells is that thing?” The second guard, not the one Garbage was talking to, waved his hand to send her off. However, the first one nodded. I wished I could see their faces better. Another disadvantage of that damn armor.

  “Nay, little one, we are here to protect the good people of this city. It is rare to see your people around here. Perhaps after we have finished saving it, your kind can join us.”

  Not only had there been fear in Garbage’s voice, there was an odd underlying fear and greed in the guard’s voice. The hair on the back of my neck stood up at the weird tableau, and everything seemed to slow down.

  I watched as Garbage hovered in place in the air, gripping and re-gripping her war stick, and the guard doing similar motions with his pike.

  Then they both backed down from whatever standoff they were having, and Garbage led the faeries and Bunky away.

  “You travel with dangerous companions, Taryn of Beccia.” The guard looked ready to say more but instead shook his head and stepped back into his position. A messenger came running to the city gates and handed a note to the first guard. It was short and not so sweet. At least I assumed that by the way he grimaced and crumpled it in his hands.

  “There’s been a change of your plans.” He shoved the crumpled note at the second guard. “The mayor has asked you to come see him. All of you.” He glanced to where the faeries and Bunky had flown off and I knew part of his annoyance was that some of us weren’t here anymore.

  “How did he know we were coming?” Alric, in full Carlon-mode, stomped forward to ask. He had one hand placed carefully across where I’d seen the wound, but he was standing tall. “We don’t have time for this. We can meet with the mayor after we get settled.”

  The guard shrugged. “Taryn of Beccia is better known than the diggers you were originally bringing. All digs get approved by the mayor, and since you had a change of diggers from what was on the original application to dig, he was notified.” He went over to unlock the city gate. “I’m afraid there’s no option on meeting him now though. Either you go through this gate, or you turn around and go home. The messenger will lead you there if you decide to be sensible about it.”

  Jackal clicked his horse to move his wagon forward. “We gotta do what they say, Carlon. Don’t be a bigger ass than usual.” He didn’t even look at the guard as he rode through.

  That was interesting, since Jackal had been the one fighting with the guards to start with. I wasn’t sure how or when they notified their mayor, but I’d bet it was while Jackal was being an ass. He was only being agreeable now to piss off Carlon.

  Covey had gotten out of the wagon and now looked ready to argue, but a look from Alric as he crossed back to his wagon stopped her. Besides, arguing wouldn’t help us if we wanted to get to that site and the potential for a true Ancient find.

  Alric got his wagon moving and without a word, followed Jackal through the gates. Covey was back in the wagon, and Orenda hadn’t come out, so that left Tag and I. He looked to me for guidance. He was Locksead’s man, but I knew if I said to take us back he would without question. After this was over, I would have to find a way to get this boy free of Locksead.

  “We follow. I haven’t been trapped in that damn wagon for three weeks to go back empty handed.” I said.

  Tag gave me a nod and grabbed the reins.

  Orenda and Covey had been talking when I climbed back into the wagon but dropped it when I came in. I didn’t need to ride outside at this point.

  “Say it. Whatever it is, say it.”

  The look on Orenda’s face told me she was the one with a problem, although Covey looked concerned as well.

  “Are we sure this is a good idea? Those guards look very serious. I’ve never seen their species before, but I find I don’t like them.” Orenda did one of her dagger routines with her left hand. I wasn’t even sure she knew she was doing it.

  “Syclarions,” Covey said with even more venom than I felt toward them. “If your people don’t know who they are, count yourselves lucky.”

  Orenda’s face grew more concerned as she watched both of us, but especially at Covey’s reaction. I wouldn’t get into Covey turning feral because of the syclarions. If Covey wanted her to know, she’d tell her.

  “A rogue group of syclarions tried to destroy Beccia with an artifact a few months ago,” I said quickly. “We fought them off.” That was all she needed to know right now. If she stuck around, Harlan could give her the
details. “As for this being a good idea, there’s no way to tell.”

  Covey was still muttering under her breath about syclarions, but then looked up. “We need to be careful. I hadn’t thought much of it at the time, some academics get lost in their work for months, but I have lost contact with a fellow researcher at Kenithworth University. I haven’t heard from him in over six months and we usually exchanged missives every week or so. It may be nothing, but combined with armed syclarion guards, I think we should be cautious.”

  I’d agree with her about academics getting lost in their work. There would be times I wouldn’t see more than a distracted glimpse of Covey for weeks at a time. Nevertheless, the armed guards bothered me as well. Not to mention the reaction and comment about the faeries. Aside from a few misguided souls, like the elves, and hereditary enemies, like the brownies, the only people who would think the faeries were dangerous were those who had been at the battle of Beccia. Or who were connected to those who were. The syclarion ambassador had assured the Beccian politicians, and even the kingdom’s politicians, that Thaddeus and his group had acted alone. I was really questioning that at this point.

  Orenda nodded, but the worried look didn’t leave her face. Instead, she pulled back the curtain nearest to her. I did the same with the one on my side. Might as well see the sights. I’d never been to Kenithworth, but I knew a little about it. It was the closest large city to Beccia and the only major city on this side of the kingdom of Lindor. The west end of the kingdom, where we were, was considered the outskirts. Kenithworth was our one claim as a region to having a big city with big-city style,

  Which wasn’t much in evidence right now.

  The day was bright and sunny, but the buildings around us still managed to look gray and cold. The style of the buildings we passed was exotic and glamorous, at least to a small-town girl like me. Yet, for all of their grace, they carried a weight of despair. I leaned over to look out the other side, but they were just as bad there. Even more so. That side was full of shops and vendors, but many appeared closed or extremely understocked.

  “How long ago did you say you lost track of your friend?” I asked Covey.

  She’d been lost in her own thoughts but shook them off at my question. “Right before the issue with Alric and that glass gargoyle. The last time I heard from him was about a week before Alric stole the scroll.”

  Orenda and I had leaned away from the windows but both curtains were still open. Covey frowned and leaned first into one, then the other. Her frown deepened.

  “This isn’t right. Kenithworth is a bustling city. I was here last year for a conference at their university. It didn’t look like this at all.” She turned and pulled open the curtain at the back of the wagon as well, then quickly dropped it.

  “There are a dozen armored syclarions marching behind us. The people in the shops are cowing and bowing as they go by. I don’t think this is a simple meeting with the mayor.”

  Orenda peeked out the back curtain as well. “But if this is their city, wouldn’t there be a lot of them? Some people in my clan fear our legions as well, but it is good they are there to protect us.”

  Covey took the curtain out of Orenda’s hand, and closed it again. “This isn’t their city. Lindor isn’t their kingdom. And no populace should fear those legitimately in place to protect them.” She looked around the wagon and pulled out a few of her smaller weapons. After she stashed them on her person, she nodded to both of us. “I know a lot of our belongings are out of reach, but I’d advise you both to arm yourselves.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Orenda and I had armed ourselves as best we could. However, I didn’t think walking in to meet a mayor, especially a potentially hostile one, bristling with weapons was a good idea. That meant we were limited to what small and sneaky items Covey and Orenda had brought along.

  Covey was very excited when Orenda pulled out a garrote with two delicately carved wooden ends. She was even more excited when Orenda pulled out another one and handed it to her.

  “Just what do they teach your people back in your homeland?” No one outside of assassins or odd folks like Covey would use a garrote.

  “We are all trained from birth to protect ourselves. We’re taught the people in the world outside are vicious and barbaric and we must be vigilant against them to hold off the end of days.” Orenda was still digging for more small weapons, so she missed the look Covey and I shared.

  “You do realize that we’re from the world outside, right? So is everyone you’ve met out here.” I didn’t laugh at her comments, but they did seem a bit automatic.

  Orenda’s head popped up out of her bag. “Oh, I’m sure they didn’t mean people like you. At first, I thought they did, but I believe I was wrong. They mean the other people.” Satisfied that was resolved; she went back to looking for weapons we could hide on our persons.

  I couldn’t fight her on that, and her lack of logic was sound in her head.

  The wagon started slowing down. From the outside it appeared that we’d come to the much nicer part of town, but while the buildings were even more ornate than the ones at the edge of the city, a feeling of despair loomed over them.

  “You were here only a year ago? And it didn’t look like this?” I asked Covey as I waved at the window.

  She was securing the garrote Orenda had lent her inside her shirt. “Not at all. I can’t believe any city, especially a major one like this, could fall apart so quickly.” She closed all of the curtains as the wagon slowed. “I’m going to try and get out of here and go to the university to see if I can find out anything. Just go along with whatever I do. I’ll be back as soon as possible, and if you don’t come out of that meeting, I’ll go get help.”

  I nodded. I seemed to be the one they were focusing on. They’d seen Covey, but her name wasn’t on the papers and most thugs didn’t know academics. If things did go bad, it would be good to have someone outside to get us back out.

  The wagon came to a halt, and Tag popped open the door. “They’re asking for you all to come out.”

  I nodded to the others and led the way.

  The people in the other two wagons were also coming out, and we instinctively bunched together. Covey drifted toward the back and I noticed she was in a brief, yet earnest, conversation with Grimwold.

  My attention was drawn as the sound of our armored escort filled the street. They must have slowed down as we did but had dropped behind us. They halted quite a bit behind the wagons.

  A small group coming down the flight of stairs echoed their movements. Not all were syclarions, but they were all tall and armed. They dropped down the stairs with each one staying on a step. The doors again opened behind them and this time stayed open as a man came out of them. This person wore no armor and at first I thought it might be the mayor. He was tall and thin with strands of rich brown hair creatively drifting out of a very elaborate hat. Long flaps down the sides and back were made of the most delicately cut felt I’d ever seen. And I seriously doubted that shade of teal could be found anywhere in nature. Large orange and green feathers were artistically, if horrifically, arranged on top.

  Kenithworth might be going through something dark and scary, but they were keeping up their cutting–edge fashion. Whether that was a good idea or not was open for debate.

  He looked down at us, nodded to the guards, then motioned. “The mayor will see you now. Please do try not to touch anything.”

  We’d started moving forward when Grimwold made a break for it. I had no idea what he and Covey had been talking about, but he was completely freaked when he burst through us and ran down the road. Covey waited until most of the guards started after him, then ducked down the alley behind us and took off with no one the wiser. The guards probably faced a losing race. Syclarions weren’t known for their speed and Grimwold ran like his ass was on fire.

  The pompous jerk at the top of the stairs watched the guards jog off with a disgusted look, and wrinkled his nose as he looked
around the crowd of us. “In fact, we only need the diggers, a person named Carlon, and one named Jackal. The rest of you may stay out here.”

  Harlan joined me, and Alric and Jackal followed. The everyone else went back to their wagons to wait.

  It was a bit unnerving climbing the stairs with armed guards standing there. With their armor all you could really see were their mouths. While I’d been right, and they weren’t all syclarions—there seemed to be a fair number of humans and troll-human breeds—at least judging from what I could see below the helmets.

  A large golden ball hovered over the double doorway. It hadn’t been visible from the street, but I felt a magical pull from it now. It looked like a spell bubble. Like what Covey had in her kitchen, but about five times the size. They were designed to break spells on anyone coming into a room or building.

  I gave a quick glance back to Alric. I knew he could hold his own against minor spell breakers, but he was injured whether he was showing it or not, and this wasn’t a minor spell ball. He gave a brief nod and took a few long breaths. He also moved closer to me.

  Had he really been Carlon I would have pushed him down the stairs. His body was so close I could feel heat coming off of him. However, exposing Alric here and now was a very bad thing. If those syclarions knew who the faeries were and what they did in the battle of Beccia against fellow syclarions, they sure as hell would know whom Alric was. Moreover, what he did to their people.

  I felt the back of his hand press against the palm of mine as we walked through the doorway. I kept my hand still to maintain the touch, yet keep it hidden. Not only did I not want the mayor’s people seeing it, I knew Jackal would draw unwanted attention if he did.

  An odd tingle started at the top of my head and quickly worked its way down. After a pause when it hit our hands, it continued. Alric leaned into me a bit more as it went through him, but his glamour held.