Blood of Dragons

by Jack Campbell

  A door close to her sagged partly open. Still stunned, Kira opened it slightly more to see that it led into the room where she had been held prisoner.

  The spell must have worked. She must have gotten out of the room, and then…

  Kira stared down at the Imperial guards. She must have surprised them, suddenly coming through a door they knew was locked.

  Why couldn’t she remember anything?

  Aside from her and the out-cold bodies of the guards, the passageway was empty. Kira had grown used to hearing people walking past her door, so she knew that was an often-used walkway. She had hoped there would be little traffic during this evening, but she couldn’t hear anyone else or any activity at all. The ship felt oddly deserted.

  A bucket of drinking water rested in a wall-mounted holder nearby. Kira grabbed it and drank greedily, pausing to catch her breath, then drank again, feeling strength flow back into her. She had never known that tepid, flat water could taste that good.

  A single pair of footsteps sounded. Coming closer.

  Kira sat down the bucket and spun to face them, gripping the dagger tightly, determined not to be taken again. She felt a final trickle of blood from her nose wander down her chin and wiped at the distraction with her free hand.

  A woman came around the corner and stopped at the sight of Kira. She studied the scene, taking in every detail. Perhaps thirty years old, she wore a fine suit, carrying the aura of power and confidence.

  “Interesting,” the woman said. “No one helped you?”

  “No,” Kira said, bringing the dagger into a position in front of her which could both defend and be used for attack.

  Kira realized the woman was looking at the blood around her mouth with horrified fascination. “Who are you?” the woman asked.

  “Kira of Dematr,” she answered, wiping at her lower face again with her free hand, wishing she had taken a moment to wash her face instead of drinking all the water. “Pardon my appearance. I was thirsty.”

  The woman’s eyes widened and went to the pool of blood on the deck. “You…have no other name?”

  Why would she ask such a thing? Just because of…Kira remembered the blood around her mouth. Oh, blazes. She thought Kira had been drinking blood. And the guards at her feet were young enough to be the traditional prey of the Dark One. Or the Dark One’s daughter.

  Maybe it wasn’t a bad thing at the moment for the woman to be scared about that, though.

  “I’d rather not say,” Kira replied. “Are you a friend or an enemy?”

  “That depends. Do you intend killing me?” the woman asked.

  “Only if I have to.”

  The woman smiled, the expression disconcerting to Kira. “I don’t think that will be necessary. I would prefer to be a friend to such a…person as you. We haven’t been introduced. I am Sabrin.”

  The name rang a bell with Kira. “Princess Sabrin? Of the Imperial household?”

  “The same.” Sabrin walked closer to Kira, still studying her. “You were about to die in an unfortunate accident for which Prince Maxim would be blamed.”

  “As much as I’d like to cause trouble for Prince Maxim,” Kira said, “I don’t like that plan.”

  “I see that it would have been a mistake.” Sabrin stopped, barely out of reach of Kira’s dagger. “If it could have been done at all. I have been told that the stories of your exploits were greatly exaggerated, that you were simply a spoiled child, weak and incapable. Yet you withstood the attempts to break you during this voyage. And clearly you are neither weak nor incapable, despite what my source among Maxim’s followers reported. The door to your former prison is still locked, but hangs open. I am not a believer in fairy tales, and yet—”

  “All you have to know,” Kira said, “is that I can defend myself.”

  “That is obvious. What else have you inherited from your mother? Time will tell. The mistake of underestimating her cost the Empire dearly. Would you accept my assistance?”

  “Yes,” Kira said, watching Sabrin to be sure she was making a good-faith offer to help.

  “Unfortunately,” Sabrin said, “my options are limited. I do not have sufficient forces on hand to deal with Maxim should he dispute ownership of you.”

  “What if you were my hostage?” Kira asked.

  Sabrin shook her head. “Maxim would like nothing better than for me to ‘accidentally’ die during an attempt to rescue me from you. Your best option is to flee, having slain all the guards aboard this ship.”

  “I haven’t—” Kira began.

  “The others are dead. Never mind how. You’ll be given the credit. And I do think you could have done it, couldn’t you? If you are finished with these two, I have people who will deal with them.” Princess Sabrin studied Kira again. “Like Maxim, I had seen you as an obstacle. But you would make a good ally, wouldn’t you? And I do wonder to what lengths Maxim would go to try to recover you. He doesn’t like failing.”

  “An ally?” Kira asked, her mind having fastened on that unexpected word.

  “Unfortunately, because of the balance of forces in this harbor, I can be only a passive ally of yours once I leave this ship,” Sabrin said. “Time is short. If you will accompany me?”

  Kira followed warily as Princess Sabrin walked to the end of the passageway and opened a door. “Your pistol and holster are in the top drawer there. You will find additional ammunition in the next drawer down. I recommend that you take it. I will go on deck and await you.”

  “Wait,” Kira said. “All the rest of the crew is dead?”

  “There were only about twenty left aboard,” Sabrin said. “Scattered about the ship. Some of Prince Maxim’s personal staff and followers are still ashore. Another, who was actually my follower and hidden among Maxim’s, will leave with me. The rest of the crew are in longboats from this ship and others in the Gray Squadron. Maxim’s Mage foresaw the arrival of a boat in this harbor late this evening carrying a certain young man whose very existence enrages Maxim. Maxim can’t stand the idea that you would prefer someone else to him.”

  “Jason?” Kira said. She looked down at herself. There it was again. The intangible thread, leading off into the darkness. Jason must be close enough for it to be visible once more. “How did he—?”

  “You’ll have to ask him. Maxim waits with his crew to ensure the boy’s death. They are just inside the harbor, wanting to be certain that he cannot escape.” Sabrin looked Kira over. “It’s quite a compliment to your man that Maxim thought he needed such a strong force to deal with him.”

  “I’ll let him know you said so.”

  “Is he…like you?”

  “Maybe,” Kira said. The legends about Mara varied, but most painted her as almost unstoppable, her undead body nearly impervious to harm and unnaturally swift as well as strong.

  “I see. I nonetheless advise that you move quickly. I assume you are wise enough to know that trying to hide in Caer Lyn would be folly? Of course you know that. If we meet again, remember that I am not your enemy. And if you should meet your mother again, you might inform her that Princess Sabrin aided you at a time when it mattered. We could do much together, don’t you think?”

  “Why?” Kira demanded. “Why are you different from Maxim? Are you different from him, or am I just a weapon for you to use against him?”

  Sabrin eyed Kira for a moment before answering. “I do what I must, but unlike Maxim, I know the value of people. People who can think. Who can be counted on. Who deserve some loyalty in return. Some think that a weakness. If you are like your mother, I know that you do not.” Her gaze on Kira grew defiant. “You are like your mother and your father, are you not? Loyal to that man of yours and no other? I saw it in you when I mentioned him. I have one husband, Lady Kira. And no other lovers. You understand? I’m the odd one at the Imperial court because of that. But the court has not always been as it is, and it will not remain as it is. The court is weak, because its culture rewards betrayal in every form. I will change that
.”

  “I understand.” Kira had heard enough about the Imperial court to know what Sabrin was referring to. The debauchery that had become common in the decades since the massive Imperial defeat at Dorcastle and as the old emperor aged might have been exaggerated in the telling, but her mother had told Kira there was a sordid truth behind the lurid stories. And Kira could see that Sabrin was telling her the truth about her own intentions. “You’ll make a good empress.”

  Sabrin smiled. “If you became Maxim’s consort, I think I’d have some serious competition. You have no…historical desire in that direction?”

  “No. I’m happy in the west. You can have the Empire.”

  “I will have it. If I live.” She turned and walked away, going up a ladder and out of Kira’s sight.

  Kira hesitated for only a moment, yanking open the drawer and finding her pistol just as promised. Kira hurriedly strapped on the shoulder holster and examined the weapon, making sure it was ready for use. The extra magazine was also there. She found a couple of boxes of ammunition in the next drawer down and stuffed them into the pockets of her jacket. In the same drawer she saw her sailor knife and returned it to the sheath on her belt.

  Holding the Imperial dagger in one hand and her pistol in the other, Kira went cautiously up the ladder and found herself on the main deck, enshrouded in the darkness of late night. Only a few clouds obscured the stars above Caer Lyn, but the moon wasn't up. After the light below deck, the night felt ominously dark.

  As Kira's eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw Sabrin speaking with a half dozen other men and women, who gave her a wide berth as they walked past Kira and went down the ladder. Naked blades glittered in their hands as they went by her. “Where are they going?”

  “I told you my people would take care of those two,” Sabrin said. “Those guards have more blood on their hands than you can imagine, and their deaths will be far more quick and merciful than the murders they have carried out at the orders of Prince Maxim. Two of those sent to kill them have personal reasons for vengeance.”

  “They’re unconscious. Unable to defend themselves.”

  “So was the boy one of those men slew to help clear Maxim’s path to being declared crown prince.”

  The six came back up on deck, their leader nodding to Princess Sabrin. “I am leaving,” she told Kira. “When I do, you will be the only…person left on this ship. Farewell until we meet again.”

  Sabrin went down the ladder on the side of the ship, her six followers coming behind. Running to look over the railing, Kira saw Sabrin getting into a boat. One more empty boat bobbed in the water next to it.

  As Sabrin sat down and her followers began working the oars, Kira spotted another figure huddled in the boat. Despite the cloak muffling the figure’s shape, Kira thought she could identify Lady Elegant. Elegant had been Sabrin’s agent among Maxim’s staff? She must have told Sabrin that Kira was aboard this ship. But Lady Elegant had done nothing else to help Kira, either to protect her secret role or because she had disliked Kira as much as she appeared to.

  Kira looked across the water in the direction that Sabrin’s boat was heading, seeing the barely visible shape of another Imperial craft. Not a warship like this one, but a much smaller yacht-like craft. If that was all the force Sabrin had available to her in Caer Lyn, it was little wonder she said she couldn’t withstand an attack by the ships and sailors available to Maxim. That yacht, sail-driven, couldn’t have outrun the warships either, if Sabrin had tried fleeing with Kira.

  Kira looked to her left and right. A little ways forward of her, several shapes huddled unmoving on the deck. She had no desire to examine those bodies more closely. Sabrin’s followers must have surprised Maxim’s guards, probably with the help of Elegant.

  Maxim’s guards. Like the ones outside her prison. Kira took a deep breath, looking at the dagger she still held in one hand. What had happened? Why couldn’t she remember? What if she had returned to awareness to discover that she had killed both of those guards, without even being conscious she was doing it? She’d have to tell Jason—

  Jason.

  Kira jerked around, staring toward the entrance to the harbor. How far off was Jason? Could the thread tell her? Almost as if answering her unspoken question, Kira gained a sense that Jason was still a ways from the harbor. She had a little time.

  She felt anger rising at the memory of Maxim’s assault on her. He had kidnapped her, drugged her, tried to hurt her, to “break” her.

  A distraction would help her get out of the harbor and ensure Jason’s safety at the same time. If that distraction also covered her tracks and caused a world of hurt to Maxim, all for the better.

  And this ship had just filled its coal bunkers.

  Despite having spent most of her life denying any similarity to her mother except in appearance, Kira was at her core her mother’s daughter. People who attacked them paid a price.

  Kira turned and ran for the ladder. She didn’t know her way around this ship, but she knew the general layout of steam ships, knew well enough where the large engine room had to be to find it quickly. The wide hatch that should have sealed it hung open. Inside that room, two massive boilers sat gently glowing with heat, their fires low but ready to be built up when the ship had need of steam to drive its screw. Whoever was supposed to be watching the boilers had apparently suffered the same fate as the rest of those left aboard the ship.

  What had happened to the two Mechanics? They had probably gone ashore, secure in their status to enjoy the night while the rest of the crew worked.

  Kira knew boilers. She knew how to work them properly, and she knew what to avoid. Fire. A wonderful tool when harnessed. A deadly foe when out of control.Holstering her pistol and shoving the dagger into one pocket of her jacket, Kira braced herself and used both hands to push over the coal scuttle holding a supply of fuel ready to be added to one of the boilers, the dark, angular rocks of coal spreading across the deck. Walking to the other scuttle, she dumped it on the deck as well. Grabbing a metal tool hanging nearby, Kira hooked a handle and yanked open the door to the fire box of one of the boilers. Picking up one of the nearby shovels and wincing from the heat, she scooped out a pile of glowing coals. Turning, she tossed the live coals onto the layer of coal from the scuttles. Another shovel of burning coals added to the first, and Kira could see the coal from the scuttles beginning to catch fire.

  She pulled open the heavy fireproof access door to one of the large fuel storage bunkers beyond, full of newly loaded coal waiting to feed the boiler. She pushed the shovel into it, pulling out coal and scattering it in a chain leading to the now-burning pile on the deck. She kept at it until a thick column of coal led from the burning pile into the bunker. Panting from the burst of heavy work, Kira paused to catch her breath, then yanked open the second coal bunker servicing the boiler room and spread coals from it as well, running these out the hatch and into the passageway beyond.

  A water bucket rested near one bulkhead. Suddenly aware of how very thirsty she once more was, Kira seized the ladle and drank repeatedly, emptying the bucket.

  How long had her sabotage taken? Kira brushed coal dust off of herself, pistol in hand once more, and vaulted up the ladders until she reached the main deck again, making sure every hatch along the way hung open. She found the second small boat still tied up. Princess Sabrin’s boat was nowhere in sight.

  Kira started down the ladder on the side of the ship, seeing wisps of smoke beginning to stream out of a hatch on the upper deck. She dropped the last steps into the waiting boat, worried that she had taken too much time ensuring that Prince Maxim’s flagship would not be leaving this harbor.

  The small utility boat/life boat wasn’t anything big or fancy, an open craft which might comfortably have held ten people at the most, a single collapsible mast fastened to the floorboards just forward of amidships. Two oars were fastened on the floor boards. Just before the mast a wooden chest rested, doubtless carrying survival supplies. Othe
rwise, the boat was empty.

  She moved quickly, releasing the lines holding the boat to the ship, bringing up the mast and shoving in the heavy pin to lock it upright and raising the sail. Shoving the boat away from the side of the ship, Kira swung the tiller as the sail caught the breeze. The boat slowly gathered speed through the calm waters of the harbor.

  The winds, blocked by the hills surrounding Caer Lyn, were too light. She wouldn’t be moving fast within the confines of the harbor. As her boat cleared the side of Maxim’s ship, Kira stared forward into the dark, looking for the entrance to the harbor. She racked her memory for anything she could recall from the visit of The Son of Taris to Caer Lyn. Over there. The entrance should be that way.

  The thread that wasn’t there angled almost in that direction. Kira adjusted course and the sail, trying to gain speed, sweating out the slow progress of the boat. Maxim’s boats had a lot of rowers. They could easily catch her in a sprint if she was spotted.

  In contrast to the turmoil inside of her, the harbor felt too peaceful, too calm. Ships rode at anchor, dark but for the single lantern burning on each one. The waterfront showed little in the way of lights or activity, so it must be late enough that even most sailors had called it a night. The moon still wasn’t up, the only illumination coming from the stars looking down at her with cold, distant indifference. Kira strained to hear any sounds that might warn of Prince Maxim’s boats or any other danger. She couldn’t hear anything. It’s quiet. Too quiet. One of Jason’s weird jokes from Urth. Was this what it meant?

  She looked back, seeing a spreading cloud of smoke rising from Prince Maxim’s ship, visible as a greater darkness against the night that obscured the stars. She caught a flicker of light on the underside of the smoke cloud. The fire she had set must be close to reaching the deck, unhindered by hatches that hung open, racing along the open passageways and up the ladders in search of fuel and air to feed its insatiable appetite. The metal of the ship wouldn’t burn, but all of the freshly loaded coal, the oil and lubricants, the paint, the wooden decks laid over the steel structure, the many wood fittings, and the many fabrics and other cloth would feed the fire. Kira wondered how hot the fire was in the boiler room by now. Probably hot enough to melt and warp metal.