Kal Moonheart Trilogy: Dragon Killer, Roll the Bones & Sirensbane

by Rob May

  Firebound Books presents

  KAL MOONHEART TRILOGY

  DRAGON KILLER

  ROLL THE BONES

  SIRENSBANE

  ROB MAY

  PART ONE

  THE ASSIGNMENT

  I.i

  The Forest

  Kalina Moonheart lay back in the wet grass and raised her arm to shield her eyes from the light. She stretched out her limbs and offered herself up to the warmth of the Sun. It was early summer, and the surrounding ash and oak had only recently burst into leaf. Kalina smiled as she watched two wood pigeons fussing about their nest high up in the trees. Other than the sound of the birds’ wings beating, the forest clearing was silent.

  She closed her eyes. The Sun still glowed red through her eyelids. Her skin prickled; tomorrow it would be sore, but she didn’t care. Right now, everything was perfect.

  She must have dozed for a while. A shadow fell across her face and woke her up. Deros was standing before her, his bare chest shining with sweat. He was holding a heap of colourful wild flowers.

  ‘You’re blocking my sun,’ Kalina scolded him, but with affection in her voice.

  ‘I brought you something,’ Deros said, kneeling down beside her. ‘Poppies, dandelions and … mouse-ears, I think. And these ones are—I’m not quite sure what these are …’

  Kalina propped herself up on her elbow to look. ‘They’re snapdragons.’

  Deros gave her a worried glance. ‘Snapdragons?’ It was bad luck to pick snapdragons. ‘Do you think that he will know?’

  Kalina laughed and put her hand on his arm. ‘I really, really doubt that a simple village boy picking flowers will be at the top of that monster’s hit list. But let him come—right now!—if he really cares.’

  She had addressed her final words to the sky, but it remained blue, clear and empty.

  ‘Don’t say things like that!’ Deros said after a few moments of silence. Then he cracked a grin. ‘Don’t say that I’m simple!’

  They both laughed. Kalina pulled Deros close. As she did so there was a thwack and a whirring sound from off in the trees. Then there was a close-up thunk. Deros turned pale and looked confused.

  ‘Kal,’ he said. ‘I …’

  He looked down.

  Kalina followed his gaze.

  There was an arrow head sticking out of his belly.

  I.ii

  The City

  The iron midnight bell rang out across the city: a muffled monotone knell that made the night’s last stragglers walk just that little bit faster home. Kal’s eyes snapped open at the sound. She shook her head. That dream again. A memory, really, but it didn’t trouble her so much these days. It all happened six years ago!

  She looked out over the rooftops. Kal was high up on top of the Basilica, in the shadows of the colonnade that encircled the dome. From up here she could see everything: the brick and terracotta buildings, bleached by the moon; the pale stone monuments and temples; the tall-masted ships in the docks; and surrounding it all—even the harbour—the towering ringwall: sixty feet high and twenty feet wide to keep monsters out of the city.

  This was her new home. She had left her old life behind her, a thousand miles to the north. She was a different person now; she had lodgings here (a small room), friends (well, acquaintances) and skills that could make her money (so long as the law allowed). She also had a wealthy patron, and tonight she had a job to do that she needed to be getting on with.

  Kal shook her head to dismiss her thoughts. It was time to go. With practiced ease she traversed the roof of the Basilica and hopped into the branches of the giant cypress tree that grew in the cemetery. From the tree it was an easy jump down onto the cemetery wall, but from the wall it was an eight-foot leap to the roof of the old bath house. Kal made the jump without a second thought, and even landed quietly. She had done it hundreds of times before.

  The bath house was almost a ruin. As she navigated its crumbling roofs, she could hear the cries of children from inside. So they were still using the old building as an orphanage. This crazy city was rich enough to do everything except look after its most vulnerable. Kal promised herself she would drop off a donation later, if the night’s work went well.

  She dropped down to ground level in the far corner of the bath house. Across the courtyard, one final obstacle stood before her: a ten-foot-high brick wall. There were, truth be told, any number of routes she could take over or around the wall, but Kal had always preferred the direct approach. She thumped her right fist into her left palm; the fingers of her leather gloves were stitched with a layer of tough elastic cuchuck—a rare substance imported from the far-off Junglelands. She had coughed up a great deal of gold for a very small supply. Her boots were soled with it, too.

  She hopped on the spot for a second, then sprinted at the wall. The grip her gloves and boots provided was only temporary, but it was enough to boost her high enough so that she could grab the curved tiles that decorated the top. Her fingers only barely touched them; without the cuchuck she would surely have fallen back down. As it was, Kal was able to hoist herself nimbly up until she was crouched atop the wall, surveying the other side.

  Gardens and pathways lay before her, monochrome in the moonlight. This park was part of the wealthy quarter of the city; it would be empty at night, and the entrances guarded. Kal’s unconventional approach, however, ensured there would be no witnesses to her arrival. She dropped down off the wall and slipped along a tree-lined avenue—a shadow dressed in soft black leather. Only the statues—life-size marble representations of long-dead gods—saw her pass.

  And in the very centre of the gardens: the one who had killed them all. Kal’s route took her around the perimeter of the park, but even so she couldn’t help but glance over her shoulder at him; the only god who still terrorised the world’s dreams; the ancient winged beast whose unruly spawn still haunted desolate lands.

  The last god standing.

  The first monster.

  The Dragon.

  I.iii

  Arcus Hill

  The massive marble statue depicted the Dragon rearing up on his legs, wings spread wide. Before him was a muscular youth, naked and armed with a bronze spear. It was here, a thousand years ago, atop the highest hill in the city, that the Dragon had battled and eventually killed the god Arcus—the final god to fall beneath his savage jaws. But even in death, Arcus still managed to hold on to some residual power; his tomb—buried somewhere beneath the hill—had proved over the centuries to be a powerful deterrent to evil. And as such, this square mile of volcanic rock was crammed with an abundance of temples, shrines and statues … and, of course, the mansions of the powerful and prosperous.

  Arcus Hill. Home to rich merchants, richer politicians and those who sat upon chests of inherited wealth. The man Kal was after tonight probably fitted into all three of these categories. The only other person that Kal knew who lived up here was Zeb Zing, the owner of the Snake Pit, the unruly downtown gaming den—the largest building in the city that wasn’t a temple of some sort. Kal liked to joke sometimes that it was her temple. At least the gods of luck and fate that she worshipped there were still alive and kicking, and sometimes they even answered her prayers.

  On any other night but tonight she could be there right now. Still, it was relatively early and this job shouldn’t take too long; she had almost arrived at her destination. Some of the larger mansions on Arcus Hill had frontages directly onto the park. From the cover of a low yew tree, Kal staked out the building opposite. A guard was pacing up and down in front of the gate. At the sound of a distan
t bell, one that marked the half hour, he left his post and disappeared off into the trees of the park. Kal knew that he had a secret appointment with a girl he had flirted with earlier that day at a local tavern. Too bad for him the girl wouldn’t keep her promise. Kal smiled to herself—it wasn’t as if she could be in two places at once.

  When the coast was clear, Kal dashed to the gate. In seconds she was over. Avoiding the portico and the main doors, she made for some steps that went down to a basement-level passage and the servants’ entrance. Kal let herself into a kitchen where she paused for breath and listened out for any signs of life. It was silent. Idly, she lifted the lids of some of the earthenware pots. In one she discovered an interesting cheese, so she took a nibble.

  Then suddenly she paused, the flavour of the cheese still on her tongue. She was not alone in the kitchen.

  Kal peered into the shadows by the opposite door. The moonlight came in through a small window high in the wall and barely lit the kitchen. But something was there, watching her, panting heavily. The light glimmered off a pair of eyes that were just a couple of feet off the ground. Kal looked away quickly.

  ‘Hey boy, it’s alright,’ she whispered, keeping her voice level.

  The shape in the shadows growled. It padded forward, revealing itself to be an enormous wolfhound. Kal wasn’t going to be able to make friends with this animal; most likely it had been trained to defend its turf. So she dropped to her knees, met the dog’s gaze, and offered out her hand.

  ‘Come and get me, then,’ she said softly.

  The wolfhound pounced. Kal twisted her wrist and the dog’s jaws clamped down on her forearm. She wore steel vambraces beneath her leather, which blunted the dog’s bite. With her free hand, Kal drew her shortsword from its sheath at her back. With one arm still in the dog’s jaws, she twisted around, mounted its back and gripped its head between her knees.

  Then she brought the pommel of her sword straight down on the back of the dog’s neck, knocking it out cold.

  ‘Naughty boy,’ she chided, extricating her arm from the animal’s mouth. She wiped the slobber off on a tablecloth.

  Kal left the kitchen and found some stairs leading up to the ground floor. She found herself in a circular antechamber, the kind built to impress visitors to the mansion. Thick candles burned in sconces around the walls. The floor was tiled red and white, and in the centre was a column topped with a marble bust. Kal took a moment to examine the sculpture; at least now it wouldn’t be too difficult to identify the man who lived here if she found him in the company of others.

  She continued deeper into the house, creeping down a corridor laid with a deep-pile carpet that muffled her steps. Sometimes they just make it too easy, she thought to herself. Kal stopped outside a door that was slightly ajar, light emanating from the room within. She peeped carefully through the crack. It was a book-lined study. A man with his back to the door was sitting at a large desk piled high with books, maps and documents.

  Kal could tell from the shape of his bald head that she had found her target. Slowly, she drew a throwing knife from her boot.

  I.iv

  Corruption

  The man at the desk was holding a document up to read when Kal’s knife passed over his right shoulder, skewered the parchment, and pinned it to a painting on the opposite wall. He did a remarkable job of maintaining his composure as he rose from his leather chair and turned to face her.

  ‘I have a message for you, Senator,’ Kal said amiably as she entered the room. ‘Your home isn’t secure from assassins.’

  The bald man smiled weakly as he tried to control the anger that nevertheless revealed itself clearly in his eyes. He was young, despite his lack of hair, and dressed richly in a red velvet tunic and a black woollen mantle stitched with gold thread. ‘Who are you?’ he hissed, raising his hands cautiously, palms out, in a submissive gesture, ‘and what do you want?’

  Kal ignored the questions. ‘Do you know what the punishment for corruption in the Senate is?’ she asked him instead. ‘I guess you must. Exile from the city; expulsion into the Wild. How do you think you’d manage spending your nights in a cave in the Endless Forest, instead of in here with your books?’

  The senator regarded her warily. ‘If you want to accuse me of something, maybe you should take your complaint to the Senate. Do you know what the punishment for breaking and entering a senator’s home is?’

  Kal was browsing the senator’s bookshelves, brushing her fingertips along the leather spines. ‘The kitchen door was open,’ she said dismissively. ‘I’ve not done any breaking yet. You have an impressive library, Senator.’ She picked out a heavy tome bound in deep red leather. ‘Calling the Dragon. Wasn’t the author of this book beheaded in Satos Square? I think I was there that day.’

  ‘I wouldn’t know,’ the senator shrugged. ‘I’ve not read it.’

  ‘A bit harsh, beheading, if you ask me,’ Kal went on, thumbing through the pages of the book. ‘But then I suppose the last thing we need right now is someone encouraging a dragon to visit the city again.’

  The senator sagged noticeably. ‘I’m just a collector of rare books,’ he sighed. ‘What do you want me to do? Burn my library?’

  ‘No,’ Kal told him. ‘Words are just words; a book never harmed anyone by itself. In fact, I’ll do you a favour and take this one off your hands; my shelves are a little bare at the moment.’ She gave the senator a serious look. ‘No, Senator, what I want you to do is to stop accepting donations from—and lending your ear to—the people who supplied you with this book. The Dragonites are a dangerous cult, and religion and politics have never mixed that well in this city.’

  He looked at her suspiciously. ‘Is that all you want me to do?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Kal said with a smile. ‘What did you think I was going to do? Carve a permanent warning into that shiny head of yours?’

  The senator actually laughed in relief. Then his expression froze.

  Kal turned around, following the senator’s stare. A man stood in the doorway of the study. He was tall, bearded and wore a coat of boiled leather scales. His dirty boots and cloak suggested that he had travelled a distance to get here. When he saw the book in Kal’s hands, he drew a wicked-looking two-handed longsword: it was plain and notched, but had a gleaming sharp point.

  Kal threw down the book and reached for her own weapon. This was an unwelcome complication, but she fought to stay calm and in control.

  ‘Another dog to deal with,’ she muttered.

  I.v

  Swords

  Kal and the intruder faced-off across the study.

  ‘Who is this girl, Raelo?’ the newcomer asked the senator.

  The senator reassumed some of his authority. ‘Nobody—a thief; get her!’

  The man lunged at Kal with his sword. She hopped back to avoid its deadly point. Kal’s own sword was only two feet long, but it was razor-sharp along both edges. It was no good for deflecting a heavy blade, though, and she would need to get up close to her opponent to do any damage.

  Raelo cringed as the intruder swung his sword in a wide arc that swept a whole row of books off a shelf and onto the floor. Kal was forced back again. Her elbow knocked against something hard: a tall iron floor-standing candle holder. She grabbed it and flung it at her opponent. As he struggled to shove it to one side, Kal moved in for the kill. But her blade snagged on the interlocking scales of the man’s armour, and she realised that she had missed her chance.

  The big bearded man brought his sword down awkwardly in a close overhead chop. Kal twisted away and the sword ran down her left side, peeling away her leather and scraping over the steel bands that she wore underneath. She panicked slightly and threw herself down onto the carpet, then rolled underneath the senator’s heavy oak desk.

  The fallen candle holder had set fire to the study’s thick curtains, and the senator had taken off his mantle and was desperately trying to beat the flames out with it. Kal leaped to her feet on the opposite side of the d
esk to the big swordsman; this time she had her shortsword in one hand and Calling the Dragon in the other. Her opponent kicked at the desk, trying to shove it towards Kal and pin her to the wall, but she jumped up onto it as it moved, hurling the book before her.

  The man instinctively batted it away with his sword, but the action left him exposed for a fraction of a second. Kal hadn’t stopped moving; she sprang off the desk and fell upon her opponent, her blade held low and pointing upwards.

  This time she didn’t waste her opportunity; her narrow point slid easily beneath the scales of the man’s armour and entered his heart.

  He hit the ground dead, with Kal sat astride his chest.

  She exhaled in relief and turned to look at the senator, a wild grin on her face. ‘I told you that book was dangerous!’

  Raelo was standing in the middle of his ruined study, clutching the smoldering remains of his woollen mantle. ‘You killed him,’ he gasped.

  ‘I saved him from a slow death in the torture chamber,’ Kal said. ‘He was a Dragonite, I take it?’

  Raelo nodded.

  ‘Better run to the Senate and beg for their protection,’ Kal advised him. ‘The next man the Dragonites send here won’t be so eager to help you.’ She searched through the dead man’s belongings and pulled out a money bag. ‘There’s about two hundred gold crowns in here,’ she said, her eyes lighting up.

  ‘Take it,’ Raelo sighed, ‘and I’ll make an effort to forget your face, let alone the fact that you broke into my home at all. Give me a few days to prepare my excuses and I’ll go and try and explain this mess to the Senate.’

  ‘That’s so very considerate of you,’ Kal drawled, taking her leave. ‘You’ll make a smart politician yet.’ She went back downstairs and let herself out the front door. The senator’s guard was returning from his illicit night time rendezvous in the park. Kal gave him a friendly smile as she passed by.