The Blue Dragon: A Claire-Agon Dragon Book (Dragon Series 2)

by Salvador Mercer

  A couple of key lamps below were extinguished, leaving Seth and his companion in relative darkness as they clung to the side of the cliff. They wore black cloaks with their hoods pulled over their heads, along with black gloves, clothes, and boots. They hung motionless, which completed their concealment, yet they remained literally only a dozen feet from the table where the men ate and discussed the dragon-slaying expedition.

  Seth looked to his side without moving his head and could barely detect Alyssa, though she hung a mere half dozen feet from him, so complete was her camouflage. He couldn’t see her eyes and wasn’t sure if she was returning the look. Her discipline was impressive, and she could have been a rock if Seth didn’t know better.

  Seth returned his gaze to the top of the wall and strained to see the rope that helped hold him in place. It was specially made to be both dark and non-reflective with flecks of grey, allowing it to blend in perfectly with the granite rock face.

  Seth wriggled his fingers ever so slightly within his gloves, willing the circulation to flow to his immobile digits. He did the same for his toes and flexed his various muscles to remain limber without moving any part of his body. Seth marveled at the patience of the royal historian, and he had seldom heard the Kesh apprentice speak, but tonight the man seemed to be quite the orator as he recounted the tale of the great blue dragon’s demise.

  Still, Seth began to think the evening would pass uneventfully. It was a longshot anyway that they would set a trap at the most heavily guarded part of the Balarian complex and expect the assassin, well, any assassin for that matter, to blunder into it. It would have to be either a reckless assassin or a desperate one to walk into this mess.

  That was when Seth’s sharp eyes detected the movement on the edge of the wall as another cloaked figure, almost invisible to even his sharp eyes, crawled sideways along the outer edge of the wall like a spider and reached Alyssa’s rope line to his left before stopping.

  The trap was about to be sprung.

  “This is ridiculous,” Richtor said, his voice emanating annoyance as he walked away from the murder hole at the base of the very same tower that Captain Eiry had fallen from, or was pushed from.

  “What did you expect?” Jayrel asked, sounding just as annoyed as the governor as he watched the man pace yet again the inside of the armory room where Azex and the Kesh wizard were also present. “I had serious doubts myself that this killer would just waltz into our compound and try to kill the Kesh wizard with this many eyes on the man.”

  “Apprentice, actually,” Azex said.

  This brought a look from Kaylor, who was sitting calmly near the door that exited into the dark archway of the main gate into the governor’s residence. The murder hole was simply a secondary line of defense should the first set of walls ever be breached by would-be invaders.

  The initial plan was for Seth and Alyssa to pull themselves over the short wall from the cliff face at the first sign of nefarious activity and for Kaylor and Azex to respond from farther away across the courtyard. So while the stealthy duo was a mere dozen feet away from their bait, the chief assassin and Kesh wizard were at least fifty yards away and out of earshot of their compatriots.

  The tower and wall guards were kept the same and instructed to patrol as normal. A special squad of elite soldiers were in the armory room across from the arched complex’s entryway, observing through their own murder hole and ready to respond at the first sign of trouble.

  They didn’t have long to wait.

  The figure had stopped at the far left edge of the grate where Alyssa’s rope was securely fastened. The head moved slightly from side to side and then just as quickly turned to look straight down at her.

  Seth didn’t have time to warn her and he didn’t know if she had seen the shadowy figure, but with lightning quick reflexes, the figure drew a dull blade that didn’t glint, wasn’t particulary noteworthy, yet it cut the rope with a single slice.

  “Watch out!” Seth exclaimed, drawing one of his own daggers and bracing himself for a throw.

  “No . . .” he heard Alyssa exclaim as the rope came loose, and she began her fall to the sharp rocks below.

  Seth took a split second to watch her as she scrambled at the cliff’s uneven rocks with one hand and drew her own dagger with her other. Her feet scrambled uselessly, trying to get a toehold somewhere and arrest her fall.

  With a last glance down, Seth pulled his right arm back and threw the dagger as hard as he could, bracing himself against the cliff face with his legs. The dagger flew right at the figure and somehow, impossibly fast, the dark silhouette leaped across the grate, landing directly over Seth’s position as the dagger hit the stone wall and ricocheted off, falling into the darkness.

  The figure’s dagger seemed to disappear, and a short, wicked-looking curved blade replaced it as the dark shape leaned to its right, bringing it closer to Seth. The blade arched back and then swung and would have taken Seth’s head clean off from his body, but the assassin’s catlike reflexes took over and Seth reared his head back, away from the blade, and released his hold on the rock and rope, rappelling down the side of the cliff, putting a good dozen feet or more between him and his assassin counterpart.

  Seth arrested his momentum and stopped his descent long enough to look up at the figure. It was wrapped in pure black cloth, even more so than Seth’s clothing, which had the occasional dark brown of leather peeking through at various places. Then Seth felt his blood curl as the figure lowered its head unnaturally and hissed a nasty sound, much like a cornered cat. Two small beads of red light stared at him as he watched the figure swing the sword a second time at the rope above.

  “Seth, watch out!” Alyssa’s voice shouted from far below as the tables were turned and she tried to warn him. The mere fact that he heard her voice at all brought him hope.

  The sword sliced, and Seth removed his hold from the rope, pulling it from off his waist and allowing it to tumble and coil down past him, like a dead serpent falling lifeless after the assassin finished his swing. Seth now found himself clinging, freeform on the edge of the cliff, his feet splayed against the narrow edges of the uneven rock and his fingers desperately grabbing at the same time as he maintained his tenuous hold on the rock.

  The figure above seemed to be perplexed for only a split second as the shouts of alarm and soldiers yelling wafted from above. The sword disappeared into the dark cloak, and Seth watched as a black gloved hand reached into a hidden pocket and pulled something out.

  It looked like a small, simple marble, and the other assassin held it out between its thumb and forefinger so that it was directly over Seth. Then, as if in slow motion, the marble dropped, falling slowly at first and then picking up speed as it started to grow in size.

  Seth wasn’t sure what would happen when it hit him, but he was sure he didn’t want to find out. With a sweeping arc, he let loose of his right hand and foot and swung them completely around so that the marble would miss him, passing right by where he had been a second before.

  He managed to stabilize again, but this time in a much more dangerous position as he found a perch for his hand and foot and was now facing the empty air with his back to the cliff wall. He followed the marble as it hit an outcropping below him, and it cracked the cliff rock, destroying it and the outcropping in a spectacular ball of dust. It was obvious that the marble would have broken every bone in his body as it was somehow magically enhanced to weigh far more than its size.

  Seth looked up in time to see the lithe figure crane its neck down as it also observed the results of its attack. Displeased at its failure, Seth heard its distinctive hiss at it reached into its cloak, pulling out yet another marble. This time it reared its right arm back and hurled the marble directly at Seth from as far out as its arm would reach so that the small globe would hit the wall where Seth clung precariously.

  Seth had almost no time to react. Letting loose his finger hold, he looked down as he fell and could just make out Alyssa’s dar
k form below. “Hand!” Seth shouted, his life no longer in his control. He had no idea if Alyssa had a stable perch or not, but their training always called for reestablishing a strong anchor position after any fall or slip. He hoped she remembered her training.

  A hand darted out and up from the dark form, and Seth reached with his right arm, extending his hand to grasp Alyssa’s. He would only have one shot at this, and he made it count. He felt her fingers grip his wrist as he did hers. Now came the tricky part. Alyssa couldn’t simply arrest his fall. His momentum would pull her from the rock face and they would both plummet to their deaths. Instead, their training called for a swinging motion of the anchor’s arm, thereby directing the downward momentum to the side.

  The swing started as he passed her, and he felt the intense pull on his arm as his trajectory began to change toward his right side. He was bracing himself for the arc to stop when a loud boom sounded again from above him. The marble had hit somewhere along the cliff face again, exploding and creating a shower of rock fragments and dust that immediately followed the sonic blast that nearly deafened his ears.

  Alyssa’s hold held, but he released when his movement was almost completely sideways. An accomplished pair of acrobats would have been able to sweep the arm arc in a complete semi-circle, thereby allowing the falling member’s momentum to be turned into an upward kinetic flow, slowing the member and allowing a handhold and toehold to be regained. Seth didn’t have that luxury as the rock face blurred as it came into view once he twirled back to face the cliff.

  With great effort, Seth scrambled at the rocks, desperately searching for a place to establish a hold and stop his sideways fall. Finally his left arm found what it was looking for and his momentum jerked to a halt, and he felt as if his arm would be pulled from its socket. Seth scrambled with his feet until they found appropriate holds as well, and then he ventured a look up to see if Alyssa was all right.

  “You’re all right,” Alyssa said, looking down at him and to her left side.

  “I’m fine. You did well,” Seth said, blinking and shaking his head as dust settled downward, and he felt the fine particles as he breathed them into his throat, making him cough for a second before he continued. “Can you see the assassin?”

  Alyssa looked up and then back down at Seth. “I can’t see anything. What do you want to do?”

  Seth pulled his dagger and put it between his teeth and started to ascend the wall toward Alyssa. “Climb,” he stated simply through his muffled lips.

  Alyssa and Seth started to climb the cliff, never seeing the dark figure as it jumped over the wall, landing in the courtyard beyond sight.

  “Did you hear that?” Diamedes asked as a strange sound emanated from nearby, but before the Kesh apprentice could answer, there was a loud, deep, booming sound as if someone had hammered away at a large stone with an equally large hammer.

  Abraxus stood, grabbing his staff, which had leaned against the table for the entire meal, always within easy reach. “Defend yourself,” the Kesh said, his voice calm.

  “Whatever for?” Diamedes stood, looking at the Kesh wizard and grabbing his large book in which he had been pretending to write.

  Sounds of guards exiting from the far wall alerted Diamedes to the danger, and for whatever reason, his dining companion appeared to have been not only prepared for the disturbance, but actually expecting it.

  The ground shook as a second boom rolled over them, and the small, faint particles of dust could be seen over the patio wall as they rose gently on the ocean breeze. Diamedes started to walk over to the wall when a darkly cloaked figure suddenly appeared as it jumped and landed right in front of the old historian.

  The figure reached into its cloak and pulled out a curved sword, and then looking at Diamedes, it hissed.

  “How rude,” Diamedes said, holding his book tightly.

  The other figure swung its blade at Diamedes’ head, and the old man held his book up to block the blow. The effect was to cleave the book in two and knock the historian down on his back.

  “Guards!” Abraxus yelled, stepping over to confront the assassin, holding his metallic staff in front of him, its gem-topped rock now starting to glow with a whitish light.

  The figure turned its attention away from Diamedes and faced the Kesh apprentice, and then it spoke. “You! Keshhhh scum . . .”

  Its voice sounded harsh, slithery as if it was talking and wanting to hiss at the same time. The sound of hard-heeled boots hitting the smooth rock-paved courtyard was clearly heard, but Abraxus didn’t hesitate. The wizard brought his staff down on top of the assassin’s head, hitting it hard enough that a loud cracking sound was heard echoing off the far walls. Unfortunately for Abraxus, it was his metallic staff that cracked, not the assassin’s skull.

  The assassin grabbed the fractured staff with its free hand and held it firmly while the surprised apprentice vainly struggled to free it from his adversary’s grasp. As if in slow motion, the curved sword was brought up to waist level, and Diamedes watched horrified as it was plunged into the apprentice’s body.

  Still, the wizard did not release his hold on his staff, but the assassin let go of his sword, which now was sticking out from the apprentice’s belly. The assassin reached into his cloak yet again and grabbed a small but polished marble, and finally releasing the staff with its left hand, the same hand took the Kesh man’s jaws and squeezed, slightly opening his mouth.

  “Stupid Kesh,” the assassin hissed loudly, and then with its right hand, it jammed the small, shiny marble into the apprentice’s mouth and then slammed his jaws shut. In one fluid motion, it pulled its curved sword out of the Kesh’s body and ran toward the waist-high wall from whence he came.

  Diamedes turned away as the marble exploded and sent blood, tissue, and bone shards flying in all directions. The last thing Diamedes saw as he glanced up from his prone position was the fluttering, trailing edge of the assassin’s black cape as it leaped from the wall over the cliff.

  Chapter 13

  Unexpected

  Seth had nearly reached his old position when he heard a loud but muffled boom, very similar to his near misses, and then came Alyssa’s voice, panicked as she shouted a warning. “Watch out.”

  Seth looked up in time to see the other assassin as it leaped over the wall, its cloak trailing out behind it in the dark night. The figure raced toward them in freefall, and as it passed, it took a swing with its curved sword, almost as an afterthought. Seth stopped long enough to grab his dagger from his mouth and counter the blow as metal rang off of metal, and as quickly as it came, it disappeared, passing by Seth in the dark.

  A loud flapping sound, like a blanket being dusted off in the wind, came from below, and Seth looked down but couldn’t see the other assassin. He did see Alyssa looking up at him intently from her perch along the cliff face. Free climbing in the dark wasn’t something they should have been doing, but Seth had felt the urgency, and now he was feeling despair as their trap had been sprung, only in the wrong direction.

  “I think that thing likes you,” Alyssa said to Seth from her vantage point below as she looked down and then back up at him.

  “Why do you say that?” Seth asked.

  “Because it didn’t hiss at you this time around,” Alyssa responded, and Seth could see her pearly whites as she smiled. “Are we going to keep climbing?”

  “No, stay where you are. I sense the urgency has passed. We’ll wait for a rope to be thrown to us. No use risking our necks another time. I fear whatever that foul fellow’s intent was has already been done,” Seth said.

  It didn’t take long before two lengths of rope were secured and thrown down to the pair, who quickly climbed up to take in the grisly scene.

  “What in Agon’s name were you two doing down there?” Richtor practically yelled as he paced as usual along the wall top, pausing to stop and look over the cliff edge after speaking.

  Seth looked as Azex and Jayrel stood nearby, both listening intently. A
quick glance behind the trio showed a calm but quiet Kesh wizard standing over what remained of his apprentice. Graz stood a few paces behind the scene with his huge two-handed sword in front of him, point first in the ground as he leaned on it with both hands. His visage was grim, and his eyes never left Seth.

  Seth chose his words carefully. “The assassin tried to kill us first before attacking the Kesh and the Ulathan historian. Our support ropes were cut, and we both fell before we could regain our footing, thereby delaying our reaction.”

  Alyssa nodded and looked to her boss, Jayrel, for reaction. Seth fingered his daggers, not liking the governor’s inferences over their failure to spring the trap. It appeared that the other assassin had gotten the better of their entire group.

  Richtor sighed, letting out a long breath that rattled his lips, much like a small child would do in taunting another. “You sound like one of those Ulathan judges defending a weak client.”

  “They’re called justiciars, and he sounds nothing like one,” Diamedes interjected as he stepped toward the small group from where he had mostly been ceremoniously ignored after the gruesome events that had recently transpired.

  “Is that an insult or a compliment?” Richtor retorted, pausing his pacing long enough to look at the older historian and give the Ulathan a scowl for his efforts.

  Diamedes ignored the verbal trap and looked around at the others before responding. “I think you have bigger issues now.”

  “Where were the guards? Why didn’t you respond?” Alyssa could contain herself no longer and shot out her questions at Richtor, who took his eyes from the small historian to look at the impertinent thief who dared to question their actions.