I laughed and dropped my hand. “And that’s why you’re my best friend,” I said, my heart swelling with affection despite the severity of the situation. “If you want the less mushy version, how about this: if you sell the shop, I’m fucked, because I can’t do this without you. So by saving your brother’s ass, I’m saving mine too. Is that better?”
Carina shook her head, but she was smiling. “You’re a real piece of work, Zara.” She ducked behind the counter, then came up and slapped something into my hand. “A boy came in last week to sell these. I don’t know if they’ll help you with your current mission, but I thought you might want to see them anyway before I put them up for sale.”
I opened up my senses as I took the goggles from her, and they immediately started humming with a frequency that I tended to associate with magically enhanced items. “Oooh,” I said, holding them up so I could examine them more thoroughly. At a glance, they appeared to be normal leather goggles, the kind worn by aviators, but when I looked closer, I noticed tiny golden dials on either side of the lenses.
“Let’s see what this beauty can do,” I said, strapping on the goggles. Deliberately, I turned away from Carina in case the lenses shot some kind of magical energy, and carefully turned the right dial just a hair.
Immediately, the vision in my right eye zoomed in, and the shelf suddenly looked ten times bigger. “Whoa!” I stumbled back, startled, and grabbed the counter behind me for balance. The shelf was on the other side of the room, and yet it seemed as if I stood right in front of it, my nose pressed against one of the statuettes displayed there.
“What is it?” Carina asked eagerly. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” I let out an explosive breath. “This thing magnifies my vision somehow.” I fiddled with the dial on the left side to make my vision match in both eyes, then spun both dials at the same time. My vision zoomed in again, this time close enough that I could make out the etchings at the base of the statue, ancient Elantian symbols that served as the maker’s signature. “If I was standing at the top of Dragon’s Table, I could use these to see all the way down into the lower city.”
“Really?” Carina leaned over the counter and snatched the goggles off my head. “Let me try, then!”
We took turns fiddling with the goggles for a while, testing to see just how big they could magnify objects. This was going to make it a hell of a lot easier for me to authenticate artifacts. In fact, I spent the next hour doing just that, double checking purchases Carina had made from the various traders and treasure hunters that had come in while I was gone.
“I’m going to go grab some lunch from the market,” I said, nearly two hours later. “You want me to grab you anything?”
Carina shook her head, her nose buried in the ledger again. “You go on,” she said absently, waving a hand. “I brought lunch today.”
The bell tinkled behind me as I stepped onto the street. The noon sun shone high above, illuminating the dingy, almost empty square, and I sighed as I began the six-block walk to Market Square. When Carina and I had bought this building, we’d hoped that word of mouth would drive traffic to our location, since I was one of the best treasure hunters in the business and the antiques I brought back were always genuine. But Barrigan and the other two antiquity dealers in Zuar City had done their damnedest to disparage my work, and with little foot traffic in this area of town, it was a wonder we sold anything at all.
It was a good thing that I was used to hustling, and Carina was a decent saleswoman, or we would have closed our doors a long time ago.
The scent of roasting meat wafted on the air as I drew close to the market, making my stomach growl. As I turned a corner, Market Square came into view—a large plaza filled with rows of vendors who set up stalls beneath small white tents. You could buy almost anything here, from food to textiles to jewelry to fortunes, though that last one was highly dubious. Though I knew magic existed and there were still a few mages around, I doubted the ladies sitting in the square wearing their gauzy, colorful dresses and faux gold jewelry had any more magic in their veins than I did.
And what about your treasure hunting ability? a voice whispered in my head, unbidden. Is that not magic?
I shook the thought away before it could take root. I’d never considered my talent to be magic—it had been part of me for as long as I could remember, as natural as breathing. But once I’d realized that not everyone could sense the value of an object, I’d kept the nature of what I could do a secret, chalking it up to knack or intuition, if anyone asked. Only Salcombe and Carina knew the truth about what I could do…and more specifically, what I couldn’t.
If I were a real mage, I wouldn’t need the daggers in my boots to defend myself. I could conjure a wind to slam an attacker into the wall, or a flame to set his pants on fire. Hell, I could probably spell the brooms to sweep the shop for me. I certainly wouldn’t be struggling to make a living if I could do real magic—true mages were in very high demand and charged a fortune for their services.
As a woman who had recently employed one to set up wards around the shop, I should know.
I stopped at a cart and bought a piece of flatbread smeared with spiced yogurt and stuffed with meat and vegetables, the aroma too tempting to pass up. I was just about to go and check out what new fashions the dressmaker stall had to offer when a familiar voice called my name.
“Zara!” I turned to see Tiana, one of the orphans I’d grown up with, heading toward me. She wore a low-cut pink dress that showed off her willowy figure, drawing the eye of every man she passed. From a distance, she was beautiful, with thick chestnut hair that curled around her heart-shaped face, and big blue eyes with long, thick lashes. But as she drew closer, I could see her hair was dull, her skin sallow beneath her heavy makeup, her cheekbones and collarbones jutting out too sharply.
“Tiana.” I embraced her, ignoring the scent of sweat mixed with flowery perfume that always clung to her. The brothel she worked out of only had a single shower, and none of the prostitutes who lived there used it nearly enough. “How are you?”
“Oh, same old, same old,” she said. “What about you?”
You know, the usual, I thought. Just getting ready to steal an ancient, valuable artifact from a wealthy dragon rider family.
I gave Tiana some blithe answer, and the two of us walked through the market as she told me about her troubles—the brothel owner was skimping on her wages, her favorite john had left her for the new girl who had moved in, and so on. As I listened with half an ear, my thoughts wandered back to what Salcombe had told me about the mission this morning…or rather, what he hadn’t.
He’d told me Lord Tavarian was hosting a soiree at his estate tomorrow night, and that I’d be sneaking in dressed as one of the extra servants he’d hired to help with the event. He’d also given me a brief description of the grounds, and of Lord Tavarian himself, but he hadn’t actually told me what the dragon heart looked like, or where I would find it.
Just use your senses, he’d said. It will be the most powerful object on the estate.
“Zara, watch it!” Tiana cried just as I was about to step into a pile of dog shit. Yelping, I hurriedly jumped away, just barely missing it. “Are you even paying attention to me?” she demanded.
“Of course I am,” I said, sounding offended. “You were just telling me about…uh…about…”
Tiana sighed. “It’s all right, Zara,” she said. “I know you’ve got your own problems to deal with.” She looked away, but not before I caught the gleam of tears.
“No, no,” I protested, feeling guilty. “I just didn’t get a lot of sleep last night. I came back really late from an expedition, so I’m a little out of it. But I care, Tiana. You know I’m always around to lend an ear if you need it.”
She smiled wanly at me. “Sometimes I think you’re the only one who does care,” she said, a shadow passing through her eyes. “You, and the rest of us orphans who managed to make it on the streets.”
; I nodded. Though Tiana was forced to sell her body in exchange for coin, at least she had work. Most orphans got thrown out around sixteen, and with few marketable skills, often resorted to begging for scraps. I’d been lucky enough to be adopted by Salcombe, even if unofficially, and Tiana had started plying her trade when she was only thirteen years old. Though she bitched about her trade constantly, it was the only life she knew, and I’d never been able to convince her she was capable of anything else.
So instead, I provided an ear when she needed one, helped her out when I had a bit of spare coin. I never judged her, even though there were days when I wanted to take her by the shoulders and scream at her that she was worth more than this.
We were all worth more than this.
“Speaking of orphans,” I asked her, “how’s Nate doing?”
“Not well.” Tiana shook her head, a hopeless look entering her eyes. “The carpenter he was apprenticing with was underfeeding him and beating him, and he finally left a few weeks ago. He’s been staying with me, but I don’t have much money to feed him, and he doesn’t get enough from begging. He’s developed a pretty nasty cough these last couple of weeks.”
I fished a couple of bronze dorans from my purse and pressed them into Tiana’s hand. “Use these to buy medicine for him, and some food for the two of you,” I told her. When she tried to protest, I closed her fingers around the coins and stepped back. “You need this more than I do.”
She sniffled. “Thanks, Zara,” she said, throwing her arms around my neck. I squeezed her tight and tried to put the feel of her bony ribcage out of my mind. “If there’s anything I can do to return the favor, let me know.”
I took my leave shortly after that, all thoughts of strolling around the market and admiring the wares gone. How could I possibly think about purchasing a few items for pleasure, when so many of my former friends were suffering? When Salcombe had taken me in, I’d still visited the orphanage at least once a month to check on them—we looked out for each other on the streets, and being taken in by a wealthy man hadn’t changed my desire to make sure they were safe. I’d come out of my childhood better than the rest, but after this latest fiasco with Brolian, I was faced with the stark reality that I wasn’t that far away from abject poverty myself. If I failed to retrieve the dragon heart, if I lost my shop, what would become of me?
You’ve always thought too small, Salcombe’s voice echoed in my head, taking me back to our conversation this morning. Why not let the shop go, and let Carina and her brother deal with this mess themselves? So long as you have your talent, you will always be able to make a living, Zara. If you set your sights higher and went for the big payoffs, you would soon be rich in your own right.
That was true enough, but big rewards always came with bigger risks, and even though I loved adventure, I also loved living. Heists like the one Salcombe was forcing me to do were profitable, but if I was caught, I’d be executed. The only reason I’d even consented to do the job was because Salcombe had promised to pay off Brolian’s debt even if I got caught.
Why not try to go after a different treasure? I asked myself. Stealing something from one of the wealthy merchants here in the lower city is a lot less risky than breaking into a dragon rider’s vault.
The thought brightened my spirits, but only for a moment. Salcombe might be the closest thing I had to a father, but if I reneged on our bargain he would view it as a betrayal. He could easily call in my outstanding debt at any time, and if he did that, I was fucked.
No, the only way out of this mess was to head up to Lord Tavarian’s floating island and steal the dragon heart. And hope that I didn’t get my head chopped off in the process.
4
The next evening, I showed up at the airship yard on the outskirts of the city, dressed in the servant’s uniform Salcombe had delivered to the shop this morning. It was a black tunic of sorts, with a golden collar and sash, and gold buttons running down the front. A set of black boots had been included as well, but I’d opted to wear my spelled ones, covering them with black polish that would hopefully wash out once I was gone. Unfortunately, there was no easy place to hide my new goggles, but I was able to slip my lock pick set into one of my pockets, and my daggers in my boots, and the weight of those items was reassuring.
With any luck, I’d only have to use the former.
Following Salcombe’s directions, I bypassed the larger airships and headed for the smaller ones across the yard, meant for short jaunts up to Dragon’s Table or to neighboring cities. It was easy enough to spot the airship I was looking for—Lord Tavarian’s house emblem, a pair of golden dragon wings set in the center of a black circle, was emblazoned on the side of the already inflated giant balloon, a gas-filled canister fueling the flames that sent heat waves shimmering through the air. The balloon hovered over a wooden gondola outfitted with propellers on either side connected to spring-loaded canisters that would rotate them once we were in the air.
Despite the stakes riding on this mission, a smile tugged at my lips. I’d been fascinated with airships ever since I’d first laid eyes on one, as they were proof that the human race didn’t need dragons to conquer the skies. Salcombe owned one, and I’d ridden in it a handful of times during expeditions that took us to far-off places. But this would be the first time I’d ridden in one without him.
A group of servants, wearing uniforms identical to mine, were already boarding the gondola, and I picked up my pace, jogging to catch up with the rest of them. I was just about to step onto the gangplank when a burly man standing nearby grabbed my shoulder, pulling me to a halt.
“Oi, you.” He glared at me suspiciously through beady eyes. “What’s your name?”
“Sara Markam,” I lied easily, using the alias Salcombe had given me. My skin prickled with nerves as the man scanned the list in his beefy hand, and for a moment, I worried Salcombe might have forgotten to work whatever magic was required to get me on the list. But after a few seconds, the man’s face cleared, and he waved me on board.
The gondola was outfitted with three rows of padded wooden benches, and I quickly took my seat in one of them, strapping myself in with the built-in harness. Restless energy thrummed in my veins as the rest of the servants quickly took their seats. The four-man crew quickly did one last systems check, ensured we were all fastened in, then withdrew the gangplank and prepared for takeoff.
“You’re awfully chipper,” the man next to me grumbled, his face pale and clammy-looking. He had his arms crossed tightly over his chest, and looked like he was torn between the desire to curl into a ball or fling himself over the side of the ship.
“I love flying,” I said cheerfully as I watched one of the crew members take up his station near the rudder. Another rushed to the center of the ship and turned a valve on the gas canister. Immediately, the flames jumped higher, and there was a whooshing sound as more waves of heat filled the balloon. The man next to me retched as the ship began to levitate, and his skin took on a green tinge.
“Here,” one of the crew members said, plunking a bucket into the man’s lap. “You’re gonna need this in a second.”
I surreptitiously slid closer to the ship’s railing, putting distance between myself and my seatmate as I looked over the side at the gradually receding shipyard. For a few moments, the ship merely continued to gain altitude, the flames pushing it higher and higher until the buildings below were reduced to the size of my palm and the shipyard employees were little bigger than the size of pinheads.
Once we were high enough, two more crew members took up stations next to the spring-loaded canisters. They pulled tiny levers on the undersides of the canisters to release the springs. The propellers began to rotate, slowly at first, then faster as the crew members yanked the gear shifts to full throttle.
I let out a whoop as we surged through the air, and my seatmate threw up in his bucket. The crew exchanged amused grins, and I wasn’t sure if it was at my excitement or at the other guy’s dismay. Quite frankly,
I didn’t care. Ignoring them all, I lifted my face to the wind as it whipped through the gondola, tugging my hair back and causing it to stream behind my head like a banner.
Is this what dragon riders feel when they soar through the air? I wondered, fixing my eyes on Lord Tavarian’s floating island. It would take us a good hour to get there, and I’d worried that I’d be spending most of my time gnawing on my thoughts and trying to keep my nerves at bay.
Instead, I felt an odd sense of peace gently flowing through me, giving my thoughts a weightless quality. It wasn’t that my worries and fears had disappeared, but they no longer sat so heavily in my mind, allowing me to easily push them aside and enjoy the moment.
“It’s beautiful up here,” I sighed happily as we sped past clouds gilded in purple, gold, and red. The sky was tinged in similar colors by the setting sun, and though the cold air stung my cheeks and caused my eyes to water, I still felt as if I were in a dream, or at least a place beyond reality, where anything was possible.
Even stealing from one of the most powerful dragon riders in Elantia.
Gasps rose from the other passengers, and I tore myself from my thoughts just in time to see a dragon in the distance, heading straight toward Lord Tavarian’s island. The sunset gilded his green scales, and this close, I could see his rider wore matching armor. I wondered if all riders tried to match their armor to their dragon’s scales.
“Is that Lord Tavarian?” one of the servants asked excitedly, pointing. She was a few years younger than me, maybe nineteen, with golden hair and a round face.
“Nah,” the crew member manning the flames said. “Lord Tavarian doesn’t have a dragon.”
“He doesn’t?” the girl exclaimed. “Why ever not? Don’t all dragon riders have dragons?”
“They do, unless their dragon dies in battle,” the captain said gruffly. “Once a rider loses his dragon, he can never have another.”
Call of the Dragon Page 3