Bargain

by Riley S. Keene

  She was also physically tired. All the running through the streets of Jalova, and the Temple, and the dome... she tried not to think of her and Elise jumping into a mouth of a dragon.

  But she found she had to.

  Thinking of how her friend saved her snapped Athala back to the present. In the present, she had to keep moving. Because her friend needed her.

  Not in a physical sense. The Conscript was sobbing over Merylle’s body, and Athala knew Elise well enough not to approach her. She hated when people saw her cry. It was better to let her have a moment, so that she could pretend that no one saw her feelings get the better of her.

  Instead, Athala went to the mercenaries.

  When Ibeyar had left, his remaining mercenaries threw down their weapons and begged for mercy from the mob of Overseers around them. The Overseers had accepted surrender and gone to work.

  They had broken into two teams by the time she arrived.

  One group was kicking weapons away and searching the mercenaries as the other went around bandaging and applying what first-aid they could to the wounded on both sides.

  And sliding closed the eyes of the dead.

  Athala swallowed hard.

  So many lives were lost here, and for what? No part of this felt like a victory. Especially... especially...

  “You there.” Athala pointed at one of the mercenaries. She tried to appear confident, which was a difficult task while her chest was still heaving from trying to catch her breath. The man she pointed to looked up slowly. He looked as tired as Athala felt. Were these mercenaries so useless without a command that they would just give up? “Ibeyar said that he had another way out of here. What was it?”

  The man stared at her for a moment. He finally shrugged, obviously deciding he was in no position to fight. Or that he realized he could just play along instead of dying. “There’s a hidden switch on this side of the door.” His eyes flicked to one of his dead companions. “Franziska asked him about it, you know, as a precaution.” He stared at her corpse a long moment before he shook his head. “Ibeyar told her that he heard about it from Merylle. It was, uh, a way for the High Priest to avoid being stuck here.”

  “Of course.” Athala nodded. It made sense. If there was actually no way to get back out, the High Priest could become trapped in an emergency. Or be isolated if someone wanted to replace them. The contents of the dome required it to be difficult to get in, but not necessarily difficult to get out. Athala paused for a moment. “But then why would Merylle not tell us about it? The whole plan could have come together much easier without that hang-up.”

  “That was the boss’s idea,” the mercenary said, though he flinched as he said it. He expected anger, but all Athala had was a mild irritation. She’d be angry later, after they were all safe. And after she could parse what happened with the magic when Sirur died. When she didn’t lash out, the mercenary continued. “The complication was how Merylle was going to make us accompanying you make sense. Without that issue, you didn’t need him. You would have been suspicious of him already if Merylle didn’t explain him away like that.”

  “We would have seen it coming.” Athala nodded, mildly impressed with the forethought. “We would have been on our guard for the betrayal, and he wouldn’t have surprised us like that.”

  “Yes.” The mercenary looked uncomfortable. “If it helps our situation, we only went along with him because he paid us.” He shifted his weight from foot to foot. “It was nothing personal.”

  “It’s fine.” Athala waved her hand dismissively. “Well, fine with me.” She looked around at the Overseers who were collected nearby. “But I think you’re their prisoners, not mine.”

  The man had the decency to look uncomfortable. He lowered his head and fell quiet. Athala let him be. She didn’t think the Overseers would go for revenge against a hired foe. But she appreciated them wanting their prisoners to feel remorse.

  Ermolt had explained to Elise and Athala once that mercenaries weren’t the sort that felt guilty often, but sometimes coin paid wasn’t worth what you had to do for it. Athala liked to think this was one of those instances.

  Athala turned to look for Ermolt to tell him about the hidden switch. But instead she found Elise.

  Elise had wiped her eyes before coming to her, but they were still rimmed red and raw looking. She was carrying Merylle’s body in her thick arms. She had pulled the front of the Overseer’s undershirt up to cover the ruin of her throat, but there was still so much blood. At some point Elise had recovered the dead woman’s weapons and stashed them on her own belt for the time being.

  “Athala.” Elise’s voice wavered, but there was still strength behind it. She coughed gently, as to not disturb the woman in her arms and cleared her throat. “What’s our situation?”

  “Well, the good news is there is a way out, uh, apparently. So we don’t need to wait and fight our way through the Temple’s forces when they open the door.” Athala felt slightly like an underling reporting to Elise, rather than a friend. “It’s, uh, there’s supposed to be a hidden switch on this side. The, um, the bad news is that the person who knew where exactly? They’re dead. So we’ll need to find it.”

  “Good, good.” Elise turned towards the exit. With a centering breath she rose her voice towards the barbarian who was still hammering on the door. “Ermolt! Knock it off! There’s a hidden switch over there and I don’t want you breaking it.”

  Ermolt looked up. He was holding one of the weapons someone had thrown at the fleeing Ibeyar. The thing may have once been a sword. It was now chipped and pitted and bent. The weapon was ruined. But the door seemed unchanged. He looked down at the sword and shrugged.

  “Start looking for it!” Athala shouted in an attempt to be helpful. “I, um, have no idea what it looks like! But you’ve got this, buddy!” Ermolt tossed the ruined weapon aside, made a rude gesture in her direction, and started searching the area.

  A bit of laughter welled in Athala’s throat, but dried up quickly as she realized Elise was staring down at Merylle.

  “What are the odds that we catch him?” Elise asked quietly.

  “Um, basically none,” Athala admitted with a grimace. “He’s got a decent head start on us. Because the entrance to this dome is right next to the stairs to the first floor, he could be running out the front door and into the city as we speak.”

  “And with his magic, he’s too big of a threat for us to split up and track down.” Elise sighed, hanging her head to look down at Merylle’s body once more. “He’s gone, then.”

  “And that’s if Ermolt figures out the switch and opens the door right now, since that’s our only way out.” Athala gestured at the dragon-clogged hole in the dome “Unless you think you could survive a long fall.”

  But Ermolt never found the switch. Athala and the Overseers eventually had to join the search. It took them almost a quarter-bell to finally locate the one spot on the wall that slid aside to reveal the lever they sought. They readied for a fight when they pulled it, but it opened into an empty stairwell.

  And beyond it, an empty room.

  No Temple forces were waiting for them. Athala was confused. Had Ibeyar led them all away as he fled, or did the followers of Teis scatter into the night when his magic faded from the Temple?

  On their way down the stairs, Ermolt had offered to take Merylle’s body from Elise. She refused, and from the look on Ermolt’s face, he expected it. Why the Conscript felt guilty, like Merylle’s death was her burden, and her burden alone, Athala wasn’t sure. But for now Ermolt let it go, and just kept nearby in case she changed her mind.

  The group moved quietly through the Temple, although they might as well have made as much noise as they wanted. No one came.

  There wasn’t even anyone on the first floor. Not that it would have been easy to see them. The magic skylight that had illuminated the indoor parts were now blank stone. The only light remaining was the glowing red embers and what scattered flames still burned.


  It looked like whatever effort was made to put out the fires had saved the Temple from permanent damage, and it had been done long enough ago that they weren’t choked on smoke as they walked out the front door. But the saviors of the parks were gone now.

  The Temple felt abandoned. It may have been the missing magic, but the whole place felt uncomfortably strange, like a ruin that hadn’t had time to age properly.

  Athala was glad to leave.

  Outside was just as abandoned as the indoors, but Athala could see a very clear reason for it.

  There was a giant dragon in the front yard.

  Meodryt’s ivory scales shimmered in the moonlight. The dragon waited patiently as they left the now-dark Temple, watching them. Athala slowed, apprehensive. Something was different about how the dragon watched them. Athala couldn’t quite put her finger on it though.

  It took Elise a moment to notice the dragon. When she realized it was there she stopped and stared for a long moment. The rest of the group stopped with her. A war of emotions battled behind her eyes, and Athala watched the Conscript cautiously.

  Eventually Elise nodded as if she heard some unspoken command from the scaled beast. She slowly—reluctantly—handed Merylle’s body over to one of the Overseers nearby. He said something reassuring that Athala couldn’t quite make out. She fetched Merylle’s sword and dagger from her belt and handed them to another Overseer. Elise nodded once more, but she didn’t seem to hear him. Or understand him. She waved the Overseers off, dismissing them. The remaining men and women of the Overseers made their way back toward the Overseer’s District, carrying their injured and dead, and guiding their prisoners as well.

  Elise motioned forward and Athala reluctantly followed. They approached where Meodryt waited with an ancient and endless patience, glowing golden eyes watching them.

  “You’ve done well, Child of Ydia.” Its voice rumbled through the empty plaza. “Both She and I were able to feel when Teis’s connection to His dragon was severed. When he fled in cowardice.”

  Teis vanishing in response to the death of His dragon raised some serious questions about everything Athala understood about divine magic and the Gods. Athala had thought the dragons were like a drain on the power of the Gods, created to filter magic to man. Was their creation something more like a hub of magic, rather than something that stored and drained it? And if Teis was just weaker without Sirur, why would He withdraw His magic from the Temple?

  The itch to know was great, but Elise only stared up at Meodryt wordlessly. Athala felt compelled to follow her lead, even if only to not drag this night on for bells more.

  “There are five more dragons—five more Gods—that stand between us and the Age of Mortals.” Meodryt chuckled deep in its chest. “You are well on your way, but you must hurry to Jirda as soon as possible.” The dragon’s gaze turned in the direction of the Overseer’s District. “Ydia requests that you take care of what you need to here as fast as you can. She understands your need for grief. But with Teis’s fall, the others will be ready. They will be watching for you.”

  Meodryt looked over them once more. That same feeling crept over Athala. She didn’t understand much about dragons physically, but something about Meodryt’s body language was just different. Meodryt and Sirur had both seemed terrifying and predatory before. They were the top of the food chain and they knew it. But Meodryt didn’t have that predatory air anymore. It wasn’t acting confident and aggressive.

  Meodryt acted like it was afraid of them.

  It made sense, in a way. If something that was normally food attacked and killed a person, Athala knew she would be afraid of them. It didn’t matter if it was a handful of chickens or a wild boar. But beyond that, Athala surmised, the death of a dragon killed or otherwise incapacitated their God. If they slew Meodryt, Ydia might be no more.

  Athala paused. Was that why the dragons were sealed? Not to end the Age of Dragons, but to protect them? And their Gods?

  It would explain Meodryt’s apprehension, now that they had slain one of its kin.

  But beyond that, Ibeyar had taught Athala something that she was just now beginning to piece together.

  The man had tried to seal the dragon after she had freed it.

  To what purpose?

  What would that gain him? Would he hold the dragon hostage? Or would it give him power?

  Athala watched Meodryt with the same caution it regarded her with. Freeing Meodryt had bound her and the dragon together somehow. That could be why her spells were so much more powerful than she expected. It wasn’t that the modifications she’d made from studying the divine spell that lingered in her head. They were bound together, and so her spells must have been drawing power directly from Meodryt.

  And if so, it wasn’t just afraid of them because they slew another dragon.

  It was afraid of Athala because she had power over it.

  The idea both excited and scared her. What did this mean? And could she be certain of the truth behind it?

  Meodryt’s binding spell pulsed in her head, singing its tune as if taunting her to speak the words.

  Elise said something Athala missed, and the dragon rumbled a response. Athala blinked twice and tried to focus on the conversation, but Elise only nodded to acknowledge the dragon’s final instruction, and turned to leave. Athala hesitated, so close to blurting out one of her many, many questions, but she followed suit instead. There was no urgency to her questions. She would find the answers in due time, and until then she would allow Elise her period of mourning. She owed the Conscript that.

  With a huffed sigh, Ermolt followed the lead of the others. Athala could tell that he was uncomfortable with turning his back on the beast, but there was very little other choice.

  Once they were a few fen away, the dragon’s enormous wings beat as Meodryt took to the sky again. Athala paused to watch it. The wind whipped around her and Athala shielded her eyes with a raised hand.

  There were too many secrets in their relationship with God and dragon. Athala didn’t like secrets, especially between immortal beings that could kill her with their collective minds.

  She wanted answers. And she had an idea of how to find them.

  Jirda would hold the key.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  It was almost first bell when they returned to the Overseer’s Keep. The sky was an endless black, spotted with high pinpoints of light. And the moon shown like a threat—a giant wide circle of light that highlighted their path.

  The Overseers were waiting for them.

  Though they were battered, bruised, and exhausted, none of them had gone to sleep. Instead they milled around the main room, drinking and eating.

  As Elise, Ermolt, and Athala entered the small room, intent on finding their bedrooms as quick as possible, a small cheer rang through the crowded Overseers. The sound was joyful enough, but every face looked too hollow to be experiencing true happiness.

  Hartmut stood from his seat stiffly and moved to greet them. He moved gingerly to avoid further pain to his still-recovering ribs, but Elise could see there were new gashes along his arms that, while not life threatening, would need some attention to avoid infection.

  “I’m glad you’ve returned,” Hartmut said as he approached. He stopped just short of an embrace, hanging back awkwardly as if he didn’t know what to do. After a moment he stretched out a hand for a handshake. Elise gripped the extended hand, shook it twice, and let it fall. “The Overseers are exhausted, but we have a few matters that need to be taken care of before we can rest easy for the night. Can we talk?”

  “What is it that can’t wait?” Elise felt aggravation rising in her to meet with the exhaustion and grief.

  Hartmut motioned them Elise to the side without answering her question. Ermolt and Athala went to fetch a drink with the Overseers.

  At first it looked as if he would ascend the stairs and take them to Merylle’s office—something Elise didn’t think she could handle—but he angled towards the
back corner of the room where no Overseer sat nearby.

  “There are three things. One of them can—and probably will—wait until morning. We need to choose a new leader.” Hartmut lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I know it would be too much to ask, but many of the Overseers have asked me to see if you would consider it.”

  “No,” Elise snapped. Hartmut’s face fell and Elise regretted saying it too quickly. “I’m sorry. I appreciate the offer, and you lot are important to me. I just... I have a mission that I can’t abandon. We’ll be leaving town as soon as we’re recovered from tonight.”

  “Of course.” Hartmut nodded as he collected himself again. “I told them you had other obligations, but some of them insisted that I ask.” His voice returned to a more normal volume. “There is also the matter of Merylle’s burial. I already have the grave being dug. There was a spot out on the cliff that oversees the harbor.” He hesitated for a moment. “She always said it was her favorite spot in the city. She deserves to be put to rest there.”

  Elise nodded, trying to pretend that her eyes weren’t filling with tears. Trying to will them to stay in her eyes and not run down her cheeks. Of course it was her favorite spot. And of course Elise would have to stand there again. At least it would be later in the morning, and Elise would have plenty of time to cry a thousand tears. She’d be empty by the time she stood on those cliffs once more.

  “I know she would have wanted you there, to see her off to the world beyond,” Hartmut said. “And I want it as well. Would you three do us the honor of joining us?”

  “Yes,” Elise said, and did not regret answering quickly this time. “Of course. The honor would be ours.” She paused. “Now what is the third thing?”

  “I would say that this should wait until after the funeral, but once the rite is done, my grief may make me forget.” He reached a hand up in the air in a signal. Elise flinched and whirled around, expecting... what was she expecting? Another betrayal? From no more than twenty thieves that were so bone tired they barely chatted with one another as they drank enough wine to drown a village?