“I wasn’t going to go all the way up,” Nevka said. “I was just playing. I’m sorry if I scared you.”
Syllesk was already shaking her head. “How could you not? He’s scared if we even look up the path! I just want to see something outside this stupid cave for once!”
Iskar sighed. “Syllesk, I have told you—”
“The same thing, again and again!” Syllesk jutted out her lower lip, putting on a truly impressive pout. “It’s dangerous, we know! But we can’t spend our whole lives down here!”
Iskar looked at Kadka, spread his hands slightly. Clearly he was running out of new ways to explain this to them. And she didn’t have a good answer for him—she could understand his fears, but she saw where the children were coming from as well.
Before she could put together any kind of answer, though, Syllesk took it out of her hands.
“You tell us to stay, but you go up whenever you want! You don’t understand what it’s like! You’re not a real dragon!” As soon as she said those last words, Syllesk’s eyes widened, realizing she’d gone too far. But—and Kadka had to grudgingly admire this—she stood her ground, and didn’t back down.
Still, it couldn’t be allowed to stand. The pain in Iskar’s eyes made that very clear. And this, Kadka knew how to handle.
“Enough!” she barked, stern and loud. “Is one thing to speak your mind, but we do not hurt each other like this.” She jabbed a finger toward the far side of the cavern. “Go, sit, and think of way to say you are sorry.” Syllesk looked like she was about to argue, but Kadka just crossed her arms and cocked one eyebrow. “Does this seem like joke? Go!”
In a huff, the girl turned on her heel, grabbed Nevka by the arm, and stomped away. Nevka looked back once, an obvious apology in his eyes, and then followed his sister. When they were far enough away, they returned to their native draconic forms in another silver flash. Syllesk stomped a few more times for effect with her now much larger feet, sending rumbles through the cavern.
Kadka tried to hide her amusement at the show of childish defiance as she drew Iskar away to speak in private.
“Is not wrong, you know,” she said softly, when they were out of earshot. “Wrong to say what she says to you, yes. But is no life to hide forever.”
“I know,” said Iskar with another long sigh. The flexing of his wings at his back made his agitation clear—this was something he’d been agonizing over for a long while. “And I cannot blame them for wanting to leave. This cavern is quickly becoming too small for them. At their age, they should be flying free, not trapped underground. But they aren’t ready to pass safely in the city. They believe they have a greater mastery of their form shifting than they do. And their patience is dwindling every day. I fear one day I will wake to find them already gone.”
“They are so big already,” Kadka said. “Is not so long before they grow enough to learn this, no?” It wasn’t a thought she enjoyed speaking aloud—she’d missed so much already, and it couldn’t be long before they reached adulthood now.
Iskar, of course, caught the note of sadness in her voice, and squeezed her hand. “There is more time left than you think, Kadka. Dragons age very quickly to this stage of awareness and understanding—what other races would call childhood. But the pace slows from this point. They will not reach what you would consider full maturity for perhaps ten years now.”
“That long?” She still had time to watch her dragons grow. Not as much as she would have liked—adulthood in ten years was too short by far—but more than she’d thought. It was hard to keep the smile off her face, though they’d yet to solve the more immediate problem.
“Yes.” He frowned. “Which is too long to keep them down here. And if things go wrong above, with Endo, it may force the issue even sooner. But letting them go before they are ready… I don’t know. I wish our mother could speak to them. Syllesk is not wrong about that—I cannot know what it is like for them, not the way Mother would have.”
Kadka pulled him into her arms and clasped him close. He had lost so much; she wished she could give it back to him somehow. “You make her proud, Iskar. I know this. And little dragons love you. Is not something young ones always show in way they should, but is clear to see.”
He returned the embrace, laid his head on her shoulder for a long moment. “Thank you,” he said softly. “I am glad you are here. It is… better, to have someone to talk to about this.”
“I will not go away again,” Kadka promised, and then pulled back slightly with a grin. “First time they fly free above, is not something I miss.”
Iskar groaned. “Astra forbid. I can hardly control them on the ground.” But he smiled, and squeezed her waist. “I do not know how I survived without you to remind me how much worse it might yet become.”
Kadka grinned wider still. “You don’t fool me, dragon man. Is something you want to see too.”
“True,” Iskar agreed. “I just hope the day will come that they can do it in safety. And that they are willing to wait for that day.”
“Is good they have spirit, though,” Kadka said. “Hard, but good. Means you show them how to be strong, know their own minds. Maybe makes problems for us, but we will find answers.”
“Something you are very good at.” Iskar frowned slightly, then. “Unfortunately, right now there is a more pressing matter in need of your attention.”
Kadka’s shoulders slumped. “Carver’s meeting.” She was well aware that it was drawing near, but she’d been half hoping he wouldn’t remind her.
Iskar inclined his head. “I’m afraid so. You have a short while yet, but no more than a quarter hour.”
Kadka looked back at the two majestic dragons on the other side of the cavern, still pouting like children in their time-out. She couldn’t help but grin. “Enough to make sulky monsters smile again.” She turned towards Syllesk and Nevka, and took Iskar by the hand. “Come. We will tame them together.”
_____
“Should have turned you in,” grumbled Lefty Lodestone, scratching at the burn scar under his short brown beard with the brass fingers of his bulky ancryst-powered left arm. “The money’d be better.”
Tane shrugged. “But you didn’t.” Thank the Astra I wasn’t entirely wrong about that. “You don’t want another Mage War any more than we do. Did you find what I asked for?”
Their voices echoed in the cavernous hollow of the abandoned disc tunnel they’d agreed to meet in. Panels of dying magelights in various states of disrepair flickered overhead, and abandoned refuse and debris littered the cracked floor. The Silver Dawn had more comfortable hideouts, but Tane wasn’t certain enough about Lefty’s reliability to risk letting him see any high-value locations.
He had been fairly confident in asking for help to begin with, though, despite some objections—from Tinga in particular. Lefty was no hero, but the surly dwarven investigator had just enough of a conscience that he’d grudgingly helped them escape from Felisa Thorpe’s clutches once. Of course, he’d also put them there to begin with, which wasn’t ideal, but it wasn’t as if Tane had limitless options for this particular task. As an ex-bluecap, Lefty had connections that could get him the right records on the Hobbiers, and that put him at the top of the list. It hadn’t been easy or cheap to convince him to actually take the job, but he’d agreed to it in the end.
And to make sure nothing went wrong, Tane had plenty of backup. Kadka, Indree, Tinga, and Cestra—apparently she’d meant it when she said she wasn’t letting Tinga out of her sight—stood beside him, eyeing Lefty with varying degrees of distrust. No one was dumb enough to try something under that kind of scrutiny. Lefty’s ancryst arm and bluecap-trained combat magic made him formidable, but not that formidable.
“Sure,” said Lefty. “Easy work. Girl’s stayin’ outside the embassy, got some apartments the family owns in Stooketon. Few other small properties in town, and a warehouse in Porthaven. It’s all in here.” He raised the crumpled file he held in his flesh-and-blood right
hand. “You have the money?”
Tane reached into his pocket and pulled out a purse, hefted it in one hand. “Of course. No one’s trying to cheat you, Lefty.”
“Let’s get this over with then. I ain’t stickin’ around any longer than I have to.” Lefty offered the file, and reached his left hand out for the money.
Tane made the exchange, making sure he had a firm grip on the file before releasing the purse.
Lefty snatched the money with his metal hand and shoved it into the pocket of his longcoat. “Good,” he said. “Now, we’re done here. Don’t call on me again—I ain’t about to get any more involved.”
“You might not have a choice, soon,” said Indree, scarcely able to hide the scorn in her voice. “If Endo forces a war, you’re going to have to pick a side.”
“He’ll pick whatever side benefits him most.” Tinga glared like she meant to set Lefty on fire with her eyes. She had good reason for her suspicion—she’d spent weeks on the run from him, when he’d been on Thorpe’s payroll. Even now she kept a half-step behind Indree and Kadka, with Cestra’s hand clutched tight in hers.
“Don’t tempt me, girl. Like I said, the pay’d be better.” Lefty turned on his heel and strode away down the tunnel without another word.
“He’s going to go straight to Endo now that he has our money,” Tinga said, watching him go. “Or the bluecaps. If he hasn’t already.”
“I don’t think so,” said Tane. “If he was setting us up, this would have been the place. I don’t think that’s his game.”
“Is better if we don’t stay long, still,” said Kadka. “Maybe he changes his mind.”
Tane was already flipping through the file. “I won’t argue with that. We’ve got the address Oola is staying at here, and the Hobbier warehouse. I’d say those are the places we want to focus on—these other locations are mostly just rented to tenants, it looks like. I need to meet Bastian to see if we can learn anything about the siphon spell now that he’s got the replica of Thorpe’s machine built, so you lot will have to split stakeout duties between you. Who’s going where?”
“I’ll take the warehouse!” Tinga declared.
“We will,” Cestra corrected, nudging her in the side.
“Right. We will. If there’s magical security, I can figure it out.” Tinga crossed her arms, as if challenging anyone to argue.
No one did. Tane had given up on telling Tinga where she could and couldn’t go, and they didn’t have enough people to quibble over it anyway. “Fine. What about the apartments? Hobbier should have been tied up all day with arrangements for the talks tomorrow, but she’ll be done for the evening soon enough. We should have eyes on her to see what she does on her own time. Iskar’s people can help, but one of us should be there too. If someone Endo’s controlling with his machine comes into the picture, we know the signs better than anyone else. Might be a long night.” He glanced at Indree—she was used to that kind of work with the bluecaps.
“I would,” said Indree, “but I have something else in mind. Between Iskar’s people and my contacts we’ve got a pretty good indication that anti-magic sympathisers are meeting tonight, probably called by the Knights of the Emperor. I want to go.”
That, Tane didn’t like. “We’ve crossed paths with Endo’s knights before. Someone could recognize you.”
Indree shook her head. “They won’t see my face. I’ll wear one of those cowls they hide in, and the Silver Dawn has a badge I can use. That should get me in the door. If they’re gathering on the eve of the peace talks, it has to have something to do with Endo’s plans, which means we need to have someone there. And none of you can go—I’m the only one with magic. Pretty easy to make me do an ancryst test if they’re looking to keep out non-magicals.”
Tane rubbed at his watch case. “Spellfire, couldn’t you at least make it easier to argue with you? I know you can take care of yourself, but… you’re going to be heavily outnumbered if something goes wrong.”
“I know,” Indree said. “But despite the near thing with Senator Stooke, you and Kadka were right. We don’t have time to play it safe.” She stepped close, stroked his arm with one hand. “It’s the best plan. You know that.”
“I suppose I do,” Tane said reluctantly. “Just… come back.”
“I mean to,” said Indree. “Or at least I won’t go down without a fight, if it comes to that.” Which was exactly what Tane didn’t want to imagine.
Before he could say anything else, Kadka heaved an exaggerated sigh, breaking the solemnity of the moment. “Means I am watching apartment, then. Is fine, leave boring job for Kadka.”
Tane couldn’t help but smile—which made him feel a little bit better. Probably exactly her intention. “Try not to fall asleep.”
“I promise nothing.” Kadka grinned, baring her teeth.
“We’ve all got something to do, then,” said Tane. “Let’s get moving. Remember, keep out of sight and don’t draw attention. And most importantly: don’t get caught.”
Chapter Five
_____
TINGA CREPT DOWN a back alley toward the Hobbier warehouse, with Cestra close behind.
It was a long building of plain brick, nearly identical to the dozens around it. The Porthaven warehouse district wasn’t known for its diverse architecture—it was a practical place to store whatever came off the ships in the port, and little more. The security was nothing out of the ordinary either. There were two guards on duty, but they didn’t appear to be more than standard night watchmen, patrolling the perimeter in a rote pattern with bored looks on their faces. No highly trained operatives of the Mage Emperor here, unless they were excellent actors. Maybe that meant there was nothing important inside, that Tinga and Cestra were wasting their time. Or maybe Endo had just thought anything more would draw too much attention.
They’d know soon enough.
“I just can’t believe he decided to trust Lefty Lodestone, of all people,” Tinga whispered as they approached.
“Can’t you?” Cestra asked softly, lightly mocking. “I’m shocked to hear this for the very first time.”
Tinga shot a glare over her shoulder. “It bears repeating. The only thing that man can be trusted to do is sell himself to the highest bidder.”
“I don’t know,” said Cestra. “I don’t like him, but he did help you get away from Thorpe. I’m grateful for that.”
“Sure he did,” Tinga muttered. “After he sold me to her and got paid for it. Somehow I don’t think he gave that money back on principle.”
“Probably not, but—” Cestra’s whisper cut off suddenly, and when she spoke again it was softer still, barely audible. “Someone’s coming.” She pointed at the warehouse ahead, now very close.
It was immediately clear what she was talking about: footsteps. Tinga grabbed Cestra by the wrist and drew her into a shadowed doorway nearby. They put their backs against the door as a dwarven watchman passed across the mouth of the alley. He didn’t so much as turn to look in their direction, just strolled by on his regular patrol. Which was exactly what they’d planned for, though it had been impossible to time precisely—the guards weren’t exactly fastidious about doing their rounds.
They waited a minute or so for the man to pass by completely, and then Tinga slunk ahead and rounded the corner into the alley alongside the warehouse, leaving Cestra to wait for her signal. Now that the guards had done a pass, there was no reason to believe anyone would be back this way for another half hour or so, but that didn’t mean she was going to take any chances. She was always the forward scout, a routine they’d established during their time on the streets together. Cestra was sneaky enough for a human, but she could never move as quietly as Tinga could, so it just made sense.
She moved along the alley to a side door about halfway down the length of the warehouse. They’d had a look at the place earlier, in daylight, and identified it as a good place to try to get in unseen. When she was sure it was clear, no sign of anyone approaching or soun
d of footfalls nearby, she motioned for Cestra to follow.
The door had a heavy padlock holding it shut. That was Cestra’s job, and she already had her lockpicks in hand. She’d been on her own for a long while even before she met Tinga, and she’d picked up some less than legal skills in that time. She’d tried to teach Tinga more than once, but while Tinga was the better pickpocket, Cestra was better with locks.
“I’ll keep watch,” Tinga whispered. “See what you can do.”
Cestra nodded, and went to work.
It took a few minutes. Tinga kept an eye on either end of the alley for any movement, but no one came. And then, at last, a small metallic click.
“Got it,” said Cestra.
Tinga turned, grabbed Cestra around the waist, and pulled her in for a kiss. “I love a girl who can pick a lock under pressure.”
“That wasn’t the hard part, though,” Cestra pointed out, although her smile said she didn’t object to the compliment.
“It was a hard part,” said Tinga. “We weren’t going to be able to tackle the wards if we couldn’t open the door to begin with. Assuming there are wards. Maybe this is our lucky night.” She pulled a small brass vial from her pocket, unscrewed the lid, and upended it into her palm. A small piece of green ancryst tumbled out. Almost immediately, it began to move, skittering across her palm in the opposite direction of the door. Which meant magic, almost certainly a ward. “Nope. Not so lucky.” She returned the ancryst to the vial and slid it back into her pocket.
“Then we still need a badge.” Cestra glanced back at the door. Neither of them had made a move to turn the handle; the lock hung open on the latch, still in place.
“Looks like,” said Tinga. They’d both known it would probably come to that, but there’d been a chance—Porthaven warehouses didn’t always have the best security. Not that Endo was ever likely to overlook that. She took a deep breath. “Alright. You’re sure you want to do this?” The plan wasn’t without risk, and Cestra’s part was going to draw a lot of attention.
The Mage War Page 4