Dragon Bones (The Dragonwalker Book 1)

by D. K. Holmberg

  “There are others of us who have experience with Carter. Not just you, Fes.”

  There had to be, especially considering how many people Carter likely would have angered over the years. “There might be others, but I’ve dealt with her quite a bit the last year. She has connections. And I think I can get through to her. Besides, we both know I have some connection to dragon relics.”

  “I thought you didn’t want to get involved with the rebellion.”

  “Who said anything about getting involved with the rebellion? I only want to finish my job.”

  “That’s why you’re pushing?”

  He wasn’t about to tell her the other reason. She wouldn’t understand. She couldn’t. It would make her question why he’d be concerned about the merchants and had been willing to leave her behind. “What else would it be about?”

  She studied him, almost weighing him with her gaze. “I will see what I can do, but it’s not a promise.”

  “I didn’t expect a promise.”

  “This will be easier if you are willing to listen and accept that there’s a reason for the rebellion.”

  “You haven’t shown me anything to make me believe that I should. As far as I can tell, the rebellion wants the same things as the empire—only they want to fight for their power. How many will be harmed with what you’re after? How many more would be harmed if the rebellion managed to do what you intend and raise a dragon?” He shook his head. “I’m here for the job. That’s it. I’ll help save Talmund, but don’t try to make this about more for me.”

  Alison glared at him for a moment. “You may not like it, but I do know you, Fezarn. This is about more for you.”

  Fes could only watch as she departed. Micah approached, but Fes turned away, disappearing into the camp. He wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone, even someone who was as often welcoming as Micah had been. Fes didn’t want to feel welcome, not here, and not when he wanted nothing to do with the rebellion.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The caravan paused about midday. The air had grown cooler, almost cold, and Fes wondered how long that would last. If the stories were real, the ground near the dragon plains still steamed, though with as cold as it had already gotten, he wasn’t sure how they could. If the dragon plains were anything like the Issana Forest, he expected destruction. Maybe there would be the husks of trees or other signs of devastation from the dragons. And maybe Alison would finally understand that the dragons were dangerous.

  As Fes stared down from atop his horse, he realized why they had paused. There was a small village, though village didn’t seem quite the right word. Whatever was down there wasn’t a village so much as it was a fortification.

  “What is that?” he asked Micah.

  The other man looked over. “There are places like this scattered around the northern lands. Most of them are remnants from the time when the dragons were slaughtered.”

  “That’s one of the ancient dragon bases?” Fes had heard of the dragon bases. Everyone had. They were where the empire had launched its attack, using dragon relics from the first dragons they had slaughtered to push back the dragons. Even the bases were said to have particular fortifications. He knew them to be scattered around the empire, though had never seen one.

  “It’s what remains of it. Most of those buildings are old, and what remains has been rebuilt many times over the years.”

  “They’re abandoned and have been for years. Why would they need to be rebuilt?”

  “Mostly because the people here want to remember.”

  “What is there to remember? We know what happened.”

  “Some want to remember the way the dragons were slaughtered. They want to remember what the empire did to the dragons.”

  Fes shook his head. He started to say something when movement in the dragon base caught his eye. A hushed murmur passed through the caravan, and he saw a pair of men riding quickly toward the commander.

  “Stay here,” Micah said.

  He started off, heading toward the commander, and Fes ignored his request. What would be the point? Fes was determined to know what was taking place here, and if this was where they were going to find the priest—or more of Carter’s men—he wanted to be a part of it.

  When he approached, he saw a small group—no more than ten, much like the last time—circling the commander. Alison was one of them.

  “If there is any empire presence, we need to know,” one of the men said.

  “We saw movement,” another was saying.

  “Movement doesn’t necessarily mean empire presence,” the commander said. He looked around and his gaze settled on Fes before continuing to look at the others. At least he hadn’t told Fes he couldn’t stay. He doubted he would have listened anyway.

  “It could be Carter. She has a squad of mercenaries, along with Talmund. Maybe even a fire mage,” Fes said.

  The others glanced over at him but said nothing before turning their attention back to the commander.

  “We can go and investigate. If there is anything…” Alison started.

  “If there’s anything, I want you to be ready and to send word back. Don’t go into it on your own,” the commander said. “Once we reach the pass, there won’t be any way for them to escape.”

  One of the men nodded, and the commander made a motion with his hand, and they all started riding off. Fes kept pace, riding with them, and Micah glanced over at him, frowning and shaking his head. Fes ignored him and rode up to Alison. As he did, he noticed the rest of the rebellion had begun to move behind the nearby hillside, hiding from others who might realize they were here.

  “I need be a part of this,” he said. “This was my job too.”

  “I don’t care if you’re a part. I doubt the commander would either. But don’t get in the way.”

  “When have you ever known me to get in the way?”

  She glanced over. “I can think of a dozen or so times when you did.”

  “Most of those you weren’t opposed to.”

  “Not now, Fes.”

  As they galloped toward the base, there was another flurry of movement near the base. Not mounted, but definitely activity. “Did you see that?”

  Alison nodded. “I see where they went, but why into that building?”

  It was one on the outskirts of the base, but it was larger than most of the others. It was also stouter. Some of the other buildings appeared to be crumbling, but the one that the people had disappeared into did not. Many of the windows had bars over them and looked to be generally defensible.

  “These places are abandoned.”

  “Looks like this one is not,” Alison said.

  “Weren’t you supposed to get help if it came to this?” Fes asked.

  “There can’t be too many people here,” Alison said.

  “If it’s Carter, then we might have to deal with more than the mercenaries. If it’s the empire—”

  Fes didn’t get the chance to finish. One of the men suddenly fell from his horse’s back, an arrow jutting out of his chest.

  The rest of them reacted quickly, splitting off, making a more difficult target—or possibly an easier one, depending on where the soldiers fired from.

  Fes stayed close to Alison, and they raced toward the building. Alison jumped from her horse and Fes joined her, kneeling next to a window.

  “We shouldn’t enter at the same spot,” he said. Alison glanced at him for a moment. “We don’t know what’s inside, and it would be better if we came at this from multiple angles.”

  “You know that you aren’t the most trustworthy when it comes to planning.”

  “I’m trustworthy. You just don’t want to trust me.”

  “I seem to remember what happened the last time I tried to trust you. You didn’t finish the job. And then you left us.”

  “It’s been a year, Alison.”

  “A year that—“

  Fes shook his head. “We don’t need to do this now. If we’re going to go in
together, then let’s go in together. Otherwise, we should split up and see what we can learn.”

  While Alison stared at him, the sound of their horses thundered as they raced through the dragon base. There came another shout, though it was muted. Had someone else fallen?

  “If this is Carter—” and the suddenness of the attack made him think it was. The empire wouldn’t attack without any reason—“then we can find Talmund and get the dragon heart,” Fes whispered. “It will go faster if we separate.”

  “Fine. We split up, but don’t betray me,” she said.

  “If you’re in any danger, shout. I’ll come for you.”

  “I’d say the same to you, but I’m guessing that you won’t ask for help. That’s just not in you.”

  “I’ve asked for help before.”

  “Not any time recently,” she said.

  “You haven’t known me recently.” Alison looked behind her a moment, and Fes grabbed her arm to draw her attention back to him. “Give me the count of ten before you climb in.”

  After she nodded, Fes crept around the outside of the building. He kept the doorway in sight, wanting to avoid any surprises, but not knowing whether going through the window would allow him to sneak in quietly enough. The window was split in two, and he forced one of the daggers in between the two windows and managed to pop it open. It swung open slowly, and he peeked inside, looking for any signs of movement.

  The room was quiet.

  Silence like that made him uncomfortable. He had enough experience with sneaking in to know that there should be some sounds within buildings like this. It was part of his job working on behalf of Azithan, occasionally turning him into a glorified thief.

  There was no way around it. He would just have to throw himself inside.

  He climbed over the window ledge and landed with soft feet inside the room. It was a bedroom. There was a wide bed along one wall. A weathered wardrobe lined another wall. A chest, the stain fading, occupied the space at the end of the bed. There was no light in the room other than the moonlight that spilled in through the open window. A musty odor hung over everything.

  Fes padded forward slowly.

  A scraping sound caused him to freeze.

  Fes spun and faced a man with a club.

  He jumped, rolling to the side. The club whizzed through the air, narrowly missing him, whipping through the air where he had just been. Had he waited even a fraction longer, it would’ve been too late. Fes threw one of his daggers. It flipped end over end and sank into the man’s shoulder.

  Fes jumped, kicking the man in the side, knocking the wind out of him, and then rammed the hilt of his other dagger into the side of the man’s head. He collapsed.

  After retrieving his dagger and wiping it on the man’s shirt, he kept them unsheathed. Without knowing what he might face, it would be better to be prepared, and there was a distinct possibility that there would be others waiting just outside the door. They obviously had expected the possibility of a break-in here, but why like this?

  The man should have made more noise. Had he been concerned about preventing Fes from getting very far, he should have cried out.

  Fes crawled back over to the man and examined him. Was there some reason that he hadn’t cried out?

  He was dressed differently than the other men Carter had with him. There weren’t the same dark leathers. The club was too blunt a weapon for her, too. She preferred swordsman and archers, not brutish soldiers.

  Maybe Carter wasn’t the one to have taken up in the dragon base.

  This man wasn’t an empire soldier, but could he have been hired by the empire?

  Fes glanced at the man’s face. He was unremarkable, with freckled cheeks and a crooked nose, looking like most fighters Fes had ever encountered.

  He didn’t want to wait here too long. Waiting only put Alison in danger. He had promised. He wouldn’t let her down this time.

  He tested the door and found it locked.

  That was odd.

  Why would they have needed to lock the man in the room? He glanced back over at the man but saw nothing that would explain it.

  Something was off. If this was Carter, he knew to be careful, especially as she likely had planned for multiple possibilities.

  He twisted his dagger into the side of the door until it popped open. When it did, he pulled the door open slowly and peeked out into the hallway.

  There wasn’t anyone moving.

  He half expected to find a dozen other of Carter’s men, but there weren’t any.

  That gave him a moment’s pause.

  Carter would have had other people here, and the fact that there weren’t left him wondering if he had been wrong. Fes crept slowly along the hallway and reached another door. He rested his head against the door, listening for sounds on the other side. There was nothing there, nothing that was obvious.

  Where was Alison?

  She should have circled around the building by now and come in a different way.

  Fes decided to test this door. Like the one he had come from, it was locked, only the lock faced outward, into the hallway, and he was able to twist it and sneak inside. Why would they have secured the doors from the outside? Why would the locks be facing this way?

  What if these weren’t what he thought? What if they were cells?

  He glanced over his shoulder toward the room where the man had attacked him and frowned. What was Carter up to?

  He stepped into the room. An elderly man sat at a table, hunched over, with a lantern resting on the table beside him. A spherical sculpture rested next to him, and he studied it, then turned his attention to the work in front of him.

  “I should be done soon,” the man said.

  “What are you working on?” Fes asked. He pulled the door closed behind him, not wanting Carter—or whoever was in the base—to surprise him.

  The man glanced up over his shoulder. “I’m working on the same thing you asked me to.” He frowned and his eyes widened slightly. “You’re new here.”

  Fes nodded. “I came to check on your progress,” he said. It seemed reasonable to pretend that he was somehow checking on this man, though he wasn’t sure whether the man would believe him. If he did, would he be able to figure out what was that Carter was doing here?

  “And I told you. I’m almost done.”

  Fes approached the table and looked down. His breath caught. The man had what appeared to be a dragon pearl resting on the table, and next to it was a similar item, though only halfway completed. A replica. A forgery.

  That couldn’t be what Carter was after. She wanted the dragon heart—the same as Talmund and the rebellion. Why the forger, then?

  He picked up the dragon pearl and noticed that it had a slight warmth to it and was different than the one in his pocket. That one, while inert, was always slightly warm. The colors within it seemed to shimmer at times, enough that Fes wasn’t certain whether the shimmering came from something within the pearl or whether it was only his imagination.

  He moved on to examine the forgery. There was no warmth to it, though that would seem impossible to forge, but it had the same heft and the same smoothness.

  “What other items have you made?”

  The man frowned. “Who are you?”

  “I told you—”

  The man shook his head. “You’re not with them. If you were, you wouldn’t be asking that question. Who are you?”

  Fes shrugged. “I’m looking for a priest.”

  “This isn’t the best place to find a priest. If you have questions for your god—“

  Fes grunted and set the replica down. “I don’t have any questions for my god. That’s not the kind of priest I’m looking for.”

  “A dragon priest,” the old man said.

  “Have you seen one?”

  “If I have, what does that mean for me?”

  “It means that he’s here and I would try to help him.”

  “Help? Is there any help for him? I thin
k not.”

  “Why not?”

  “That one has become embroiled in something beyond him. He knows too much, and he has done too much.”

  “What exactly has he done?”

  “He has made the mistake of challenging the empire.”

  Fes chuckled and turned back to the door. “I doubt he’d be so foolish as to do something like that,” he said. Could the priest have been so vocal about what he was after that others knew? It would be a mistake, especially mentioning anything to do with the rebellion.

  The man watched Fes, saying nothing.

  “You can resume your work,” Fes said. He pocketed the dragon pearl—or whatever it was. He wasn’t wholly convinced that it was an actual dragon pearl, but it was near enough that he thought it was worthwhile for him to keep. And if it was a pearl, and if there was anything to it, then he would rather be in possession of it than Carter.

  “I need that,” the man said.

  “Not for what you’re doing.”

  “You can’t—“

  Fes turned to him. “And why can’t I? Do you think that I care whether this stays with you? You can do your work—and from what I can see it is skilled work—without it. You are already far enough along that you no longer need it.”

  The man smiled at Fes. “A thief? You have come here to steal from them? I’m not certain that is wise.”

  “I’m not certain that many things I do are wise. Doesn’t change that I’m going to do them. Now. What other items do you have here?”

  The man shook his head, but Fes ignored him and started searching, looking for whatever else he might be holding onto. If there were other relics here, they would be valuable. Other than the pearl, he came across what appeared to be a claw, much like what the priest had. It took him a moment, but he realized that it was probably the same one.

  That meant Carter was here.

  He grabbed it and stuffed it into his pocket along with the pearl. What else could he find here? He searched the drawers. Inside one was a short length of bone that he stuffed into his pocket. He looked around again but found nothing else that pulled on him.