Dragon Assassin 1: Twin Fury

by Arthur Slade

  “So, I don’t work as an assassin then?”

  She looked genuinely puzzled. “Of course not. I mean you’ve come to this conclusion, right? No one is going to hire a one-eyed assassin. Maybe a farmer who has a particularly mean chicken to kill.” Her chuckle was punctuated by a couple of snorts. “Seriously, it’s so perfect. You look the part. I look the part. And you keep twenty-five percent.”

  “So, you only want me for how I look?”

  “Yes. Of course! And your potion skills, too. You understand. So, what do you say?”

  I didn’t think too long about my response. There was a nerve point between the thumb and forefinger that I had studied in class. It froze people. There was always a small chance that the person would never come out of the frozen state, but I was pretty sure I’d do it right.

  “C’mon, Carmen. Give me your answer. You won’t get a better offer.”

  I jabbed my thumb into the pressure point, and Megan froze so that she could only move her eyes. A drop of saliva dripped from her perfect lips.

  “No,” I said. “I will not be your partner. I will be starting my own business, and I will find my own clients. Never will I ever work for you.”

  I pushed myself away from the desk and stomped out of the room. Maestru Olgra had her back to us, so she didn’t see me leave.

  14

  An Important Word

  I stomped down the stone stairwell and into the open hallway and down another set of circular steps before I started to admit to myself that I probably shouldn’t have frozen Megan.

  But the offer is so insulting! I am an assassin. I deserve this. I was right to freeze her. To show her and anyone else that I have the skills. I will work twice as hard to be the best assassin in all the kingdoms. People will know my name.

  I would never just sit as a prop at a table in someone else’s shop. Never!

  It dawned on me that there might be punishment for not finishing the final class (and leaving Megan in that state). I wasn’t certain what form it would take, but the other students would remember not to cross me.

  I returned to my room and yanked on the door, but it, of course, was locked. I reached for my lockpicks, then remembered what I had read about enchantments in the library. I had always been able to memorize pages, so I brought the spell page to mind. The instructions had said to speak the word aloud. So, with the thought of unlocking in my head, I said, “Enderos.”

  Then I moved my hand in a circular motion.

  My door unlocked.

  I drew in a breath. I moved my hand again and the door locked. It was as if I could see the lock through all the wood. I should have learned this spell long ago!

  There was no sense waiting around for punishment. I had to try this spell out on Brax. I dashed into my room, threw on my warmest cloak, picked my best boots for climbing, and then started the long walk down flight after flight of stairs to the three hundred eight doors.

  It wasn’t until I passed the kitchens that another idea crossed my mind. The cooks in the kitchen were already busy making the evening meal. I had spent plenty of time there as part of my training, because it was important to know how meals were prepared. Often assassins would have to disguise themselves as servants and kitchen staff to complete a mission.

  It was relatively easy to sneak into the kitchen, glance around to see if any of the cooks saw me, then slip out, unseen, with the largest ham I could find hidden in a burlap sack. I continued on until I reached the thirteenth door.

  I tried the spell, but the lock wouldn’t move. There were incredibly ancient wards on the locks to prevent any type of magic user from entering. So, I picked the lock and went outside. The open air refreshed me.

  By the time I got to Brax’s cave, the sun was beginning to set. I passed the bodies of the mercenaries. They didn’t smell any sweeter. Then I stepped into the darkness. Having come from the bright light, it took time for my eye to adjust, even though I often trained in darkness.

  “Well, this is a surprise,” Brax said. “I’d made a bet with my dead guests that you wouldn’t come back. I lost the bet.”

  “I gave an oath.” I still couldn’t see him.

  “I know. But you’re human. And oaths and lies are often the same to you.” He snorted out a small flame, lighting his face. He was grinning. I shivered at the sight of his teeth. Gods, what was I doing in front of such a fearsome beast? He licked his lips. “You’ve brought me a snack. Ham, by the smell of it.”

  “Yes, I thought it at least might stop you from eating me.”

  “For a few eyeblinks anyway,” he said. “Toss it.”

  I pulled the ham from the bag and hefted it into the air. The chain rattled, his head appeared in the light for a moment, and I saw how sharp his teeth were, then the ham vanished down his throat.

  “Salty,” he said. “Just how I like it. Did you happen to bring any wine?”

  “No. I’m not a walking market.”

  “A shame! Just remember that I do like wine.” He made a sucking sound, which I realized meant he was sucking the pieces of pork out from between his teeth. “Well, that was a tasty morsel, at least. I suppose if you’ve come here, you intend to release me.”

  “I’ve learned a spell that might unlock the chain.”

  My eyes had adjusted enough that I could clearly see his look of doubt. “You’ve become an enchanter overnight?”

  “No. But I am a reader, and I’ve done my research. I learned a magical word from a book of spells.”

  “Ah, book learning! So often it fails in the real world. What word was it?”

  “If I tell you, then you’ll escape and maybe eat me.”

  “I guess there is that possibility,” he said. He’d touched a talon to his jaw, as if in thought. Such a humanlike pose. “I suppose you want me to swear something?”

  “Yes. I know Scythian dragons never break their oaths.”

  “Not true, sad to say. But we do hold them as a high ideal, so you’ll just have to hope I’m not an oath breaker.”

  I swallowed. “Promise you won’t eat me or slay me.”

  “Now, just a friendly warning to be careful with your wording. I am rather gifted in misinterpreting oaths.”

  I clenched a fist, then held it behind me so that he wouldn’t see how nervous I was. “I also want you to swear you won’t do anything that’ll knowingly bring me harm.”

  “Done. Any other terms?”

  I hadn’t thought much beyond my first request. What else could I ask? Then, without pausing to think it through, I said, “I want you to fix my eye.”

  “Fix your eye? I’m not a healer. Nor am I an optician. It’s far too late for that eye.”

  “No. You can do it,” I insisted, and the more I said each word the more I believed it. “You can regenerate it and give me sight. I’m sure you can do it. So, do it.”

  He chuckled. “You look and sound so serious. But Scythian regeneration doesn’t work that way. I can only regenerate things on myself. And I don’t control it.” He wiggled one of his claws. “I lost this in a battle. It grew back. But not once did I say to it, ‘grow back now, little claw.’ I can’t help you with your eye.”

  It had been worth a try. “Then what do I get in exchange for releasing you?”

  He made his wings ruffle, and there was something menacing about the movement. “Is there someone you’d like me to kill? An old boyfriend?”

  “No! Besides, I’m an assassin. I could do that myself.”

  He lowered his wings. “Well, if you haven’t thought it through, then I won’t do your thinking for you.”

  “A ride on your back,” I blurted.

  “A what?”

  “A ride.”

  He reared back, pulling himself to the top of the cave. “You want me to submit to having a human on my back. The degradation of it! I’m not a pack animal.”

  “I didn’t mean to offend you. But I want to know what it’s like.”

  “You might accidentally fall off
.”

  “You promised not to hurt me.”

  “I can’t control how tightly you grip.”

  “You can catch me if I slip.”

  He glared down at me, and I stared back. I put the most innocent look on my face, as if I wasn’t aware of his anger. “Fine,” he huffed. “One ride. At dark when no one will see it. And you will be safe. In return for my freedom. I guarantee it.”

  It didn’t sound like very much to trade when listed that way. But I couldn’t think of anything else to ask for, and I realized in my heart I just wanted to see him free. I decided to tell him so. “I really just want you to be free.”

  “That’s sweet.” I couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic. “Then be your most noble self and free me, Carmen of the Assassins.”

  I had brought a torch. I held it out and he lit it with a small puff of flame. Again, I shivered to be so near to something so powerful, so intelligent and magical and not human. You couldn’t talk to the swans. I was tempted to run a hand along his scales but knew he might bite it off. He most likely didn’t like to be touched.

  I knelt by the manacle and propped the torch against the wall so I could see. His leg looked even worse than it had the previous night. I wondered if a dragon could go septic.

  I brought out my picking tools, laid them out one by one. Then I took a deep breath and spoke. “Enderos.” I felt a chill when I said it, as though it had brought a small wind into the cave. The manacle glowed slightly. This is going to work! “Enderos!” I repeated just to be certain. I felt that same chill, and the manacle was now glowing bright.

  I had hoped the word would open the lock right away. I moved my hand in a circular motion, but nothing happened. This was a powerful lock. Perhaps I needed to help it along. I chose my strongest pick, which was made from andantium.

  I poked it into the lock, searching for a catch to release. Nothing happened. I clicked left, right. I finally found the release and pushed on it.

  Nothing.

  “Well?” Brax said. “I’m not feeling very free.”

  “Enderos,” I whispered. “Enderos. Enderos. Enderos.” Nothing happened. Even the glowing had died away. There was no moving the lock.

  And finally, my pick snapped.

  “I don’t like that sound,” Brax said. “I am greatly regretting our deal.”

  15

  Once More

  I threw what was left of my pick against the wall. “It didn’t work!”

  “You have a gift for stating the obvious.”

  “Honestly, I believed that spell would open this manacle,” I said. “It worked on the locks to my room.”

  “And was that lock enchanted?”

  “Well, no. Though the one out of the fortress failed to work. But that’s a very ancient enchantment.”

  “Ah, I see.” Brax pointed a claw toward the dead enchanter. “That fried bag of bones over there was actually a very adept magician. Perhaps he knew tricks from his years of study that you couldn’t learn to undo by reading a book for a few minutes.”

  “But I really wanted to get you out.”

  Brax laughed and, to my surprise, patted me on the shoulder. “You are so very strange, Carmen. You don’t talk like an assassin. Perhaps your heart is too soft and too pure to really be an assassin.”

  “No!” I nearly shouted it, but it came out loud enough to echo. “I have done all the training and passed all the tests. I am an assassin. And assassins can be moral. We decide which missions to accept.”

  “Oh, I believe a nerve has been poked. I’m so sorry for doubting you.” He didn’t sound sorry. “You’re an assassin. There, does that make you feel better?”

  “No. You’re just humoring me.”

  “I’m the one trapped in a cave, forced into a conversation with a child, and I’m taking the time to humor you. You had better appreciate that.”

  I stood up. “There must be another way.” I stared at the manacle for several seconds. “I have it! Why not just cut your leg off?”

  “Oh, ouch, how quick you are to remove my body parts.”

  “But it would grow back, right? I could sew the wound shut.”

  “You’re a physician now too? Will wonders never cease at the hats you wear! But look closely at that leg and at the wounds.”

  I leaned in. The manacle had worn off his scales, and the skin below looked ragged and sore. “It isn’t healing,” I said.

  “Right. As I said, that corpse was a clever magician. The spell isn’t just cast on the chain, but on my leg too. My leg will not regenerate. So, if we follow your plan, I will bleed to death in a few heartbeats. It’s a very clever spell from a clever and dead corpse.”

  “Oh,” I said.

  “Oh is right.” He rattled the chain. I thought it must hurt to even move his leg. “Now I must say I am impressed that you didn’t tell your maestru. I fully expected there to be twenty assassins here to take me down.”

  “I wouldn’t break my oath.”

  “That, too, is impressive for a human. But we are deadlocked. You don’t seem to have the ways or means to release me. There is no one you know in that den of assassins—and I mean that in a nice way—who you could trust to free me. Each and every one of them would want to mount my head on the mantle. So, your value to me is limited. Perhaps if I eat you, I’ll have enough strength to survive until the next magician stumbles across this hole.”

  “You do like to talk about eating me,” I said. It surprised me how steady my voice was.

  “I enjoy eating. But, I admit, I’d feel a pinch of guilt about it. I’m sure that would go away after the first couple of bites.”

  I glanced around the cave. There was a mess of bones surrounding the dragon. The bodies were just outside the reach of his chain. The books themselves were in perfectly tidy order. “Why are you here?” I asked.

  “I told you, I was lured by the promise of knowledge. The magician summoned up a teensy-weensy bird that whispered in my ear and guided me here.”

  “Scythian dragons are from across the northern waters. Did you travel that far to end up in this cave?”

  “You know where I’m from?” He shook a talon at me. “Oh, you have been doing your reading. I was already here in your lands.”

  I took a step back. He was almost fully revealed in the light of the torch. “Why are you here in the human lands?”

  “I was outcast by my father.”

  “What could a dragon do that would get you cast out?”

  He looked at the talons on his right hand and squeezed them together. “Murder. Of a fellow dragon. The books you’ve read do not likely delve deep into dragon politics, but I was cast out because I killed a dragon before he could marry my sister.”

  “You did what?” I looked at the scar across his face. Did wounds caused by other dragons leave a scar?

  “Yes. That scar is from our battle. Claw wounds, or any wounds for that matter, caused by a fellow Scythian won’t regenerate. I imagine you’ve come to that conclusion already.”

  “And you killed this other dragon. In a … a dragon duel.”

  “A duel makes it sound so civilized. It was not civilized. He was a prince. That meant my banishment. We don’t kill our own kind. It is against our laws. We have enough enemies as it is.”

  “So, you have been surviving on your own in the human lands for how long?”

  “Two years.”

  “And you can’t go back?”

  He shook his head. “Only if I kill the king. Or if he dies of natural causes. Oh, and I should mention the king is my father.”

  So, he was a prince too. I’d had no idea that dragons had kings and princes and other royalty. “Dragons are hunted by mortals in every kingdom, right?”

  He gestured at the rotting bodies in front of him. “The answer is obvious. We are worth more dead than alive to your kind.”

  “So, banishment is a death sentence.”

  “I like to look at the banishment as a way to see the world. Meet
other creatures. And eat them.”

  I managed a smile. “You’re back to talking about eating again.”

  “The ham was more of a reminder to my stomach that it needs filling. I must say the hunger is coming back rather steadily.”

  I put away my lockpicks and edged away.

  “I can control my pangs, Carmen. Though I wonder if I’ll always be able to? Anyway, I don’t want to be here forever. Nor do I want to slowly waste away so that any wandering skinner could sneak up on me and remove my scales. So, I’ll let you live if you promise to return.”

  “But how will I ever break that lock? I’ll have to ask for advice.”

  “No. Tell no one. You are a smart assassin. I have the slightest glimmer of a hope that you’ll find an answer. I want you to promise to come back.”

  “I will come back.” I said this without hesitating. This was perhaps the longest conversation I’d had with anyone in years other than Maestru Alesius and my brother.

  “Can you bring a wagon full of food?” Brax asked.

  “I’ll bring as much as I can carry.”

  He laughed. “Nothing salty. I get so thirsty.”

  “I will be back. I promise.”

  “You are an idealist. It’s quaint. And very odd for an assassin. But when idealism runs into reality, something has to break.” He stared at me for a long time. There was something about those gray, magical eyes. It was impossible to look away. He suddenly squinted as if in pain and shook his head. “You are going to betray me.”

  “I won’t betray you!” I said.

  He gave me a sad smile. “That’s the thing about my eyes. They see things you humans cannot see. Other paths. Other futures. I see something about you that will lead to pain and bloodshed for me.”

  “What is it? What do I do?”