Steelhands (2011)

by Jaida Jones

  “She always does this.” The Esar sighed. “She says she will not speak to me, then offers her opinions despite her promise. I’m afraid there’s no point in arguing, in any case. You know as well as I how this looks. It is my duty to arrest you as traitors to the crown. Please do not attempt to resist. I have more than the soldiers you see here at my disposal, and let me make it perfectly clear—the three of you are not their equal in combat.”

  If only Ghislain had been with me, I thought, then we could have made a proper distraction, while the Esarina and Antoinette used one of the secret tunnels as a getaway. But I was the only member of the Dragon Corps in the room, and I still knew—because my years of training under Adamo would never leave me—that I had to defend my country, against all odds. Even if it had been just me and Anastasia left fighting over the Lapis capital, I would have done so until the bitter end. Did I consider myself too important to make the same sacrifice the other men had?

  Of course not.

  “I cannot allow that,” I said. Antoinette and I had flanked the Esarina. At least I didn’t have to consider myself alone in my efforts.

  “Truly,” the Esar said, “what do you believe you will accomplish?”

  “What we have to accomplish,” Antoinette replied.

  “I would prefer to hear my wife say this,” the Esar said. He took a step closer, and his guard followed suit, closing in on us from both sides. They were blocking all possible exits. I was going to have to make a dent in their ranks somehow, with no weapons, and the odds stacked against me. I only wished I’d been blessed with a more imposing build.

  Nonetheless, if I could not look as intimidating as Ghislain, then I would have to act as intimidating. If I believed myself, perhaps I could convince a few others to believe me.

  “We will do what we have to do,” the Esarina complied. “They say you kidnapped children for this task.”

  “It was necessary,” the Esar said.

  “And the treaty with the Ke-Han?” the Esarina asked.

  The Esar waved a heavily ringed hand. “Would you have them betray us first? These are my precautions.”

  “And these are mine,” the Esarina replied.

  The Esar sighed; he’d known all along it would come to this, as had we. Even Antoinette had given up reasoning with him. “Arrest them, if you would,” he said. “They are too dangerous to allow them their liberty while they await trial.”

  I steeled myself—I wished I’d had the chance to hear the now-infamous song about me before I died—and saw Antoinette do the same. I didn’t want to die with the guilt of implicating the Esarina on my conscience. I didn’t want her to die because of our pleas for assistance.

  Then, without any warning, the floor exploded beneath us.

  Is it Royston? I wondered, as I did my best to pull the Esarina away from the epicenter. I placed myself between her and the blast, feeling little bits of stone cut into my back as shouting began among the guards. They didn’t seem so well trained now that disaster had struck; they were running every which way, boots trampling anything that tried to stop them. I heard something that sounded like a cry of triumph, cut off abruptly in the rush of falling rock. The Esarina tripped over her skirts—I thought I heard her curse, though it could have been my imagination—then the voice in my head returned, louder than ever.

  Balfour! it said. At last!

  I was startled enough that, this time, it was the Esarina who kept me from falling.

  We did stumble, my metal hands gripping her sleeve and tearing it as we kept ourselves from toppling over, and I was forced to turn around, to face the direction from which that voice had originated.

  I found myself face-to-face with a metal snout, flared nostrils, and sharp teeth. The expression was a familiar one—its owner could have been related to my girl—but the craftsmanship revealed a different aesthetic. This was a dragon, unmistakably so, just smaller, as Adamo had warned us the new ones would be. Her jaw was made of darker-colored metal than the rest of her body, and some of her scales were a steely blue color. She looked ragtag but beautiful; her eyes were pale, jeweled orbs, staring straight into mine.

  Who are you? I asked. It was only polite.

  I don’t know yet, she replied quite honestly. But I think I hurt someone.

  I realized all at once that the shouting had stopped. Those members of the Esar’s guard who hadn’t fled were all cowering from the dragon, in a corner of the chamber far away from the fissure in the floor, and around a body lying still amidst the debris.

  “My husband,” the Esarina murmured. Somehow, despite the dragon between them, she hadn’t been distracted from what—in her estimation—mattered more.

  “Damn it, Nico,” Antoinette said.

  Neither of them moved to his side; they couldn’t, as they had no reason to trust this beast wouldn’t attack them the moment they moved. My mouth was dry, but I thought I was beginning to understand what had happened. Slowly, carefully, ready to pull back at a moment’s notice, I reached out to close the distance between us, preparing to stroke the dragon’s nose with my fingertips.

  Then again, it wasn’t as though I’d lose any natural part of my body if the dragon were to bite off my hand. She’d find it difficult to chew, at that.

  What happened? I asked.

  He was in the way, the dragon replied. He called to me, but it wasn’t strong enough. I like your smell better. You were in danger. I couldn’t let anyone hurt you.

  I inched closer to her to get a better view of the other side of the room. The body sprawled across the floor did, indeed, belong to the Esar; whether he was dead or merely unconscious wasn’t something I could determine from this distance, with my limited expertise.

  It was an accident, the dragon explained. I hit him with my tail. They keep us inside; no room to stretch. Our tails are too long for that. You aren’t sad, are you? I didn’t like him, but you creatures get so finicky when someone gets hurt. You should know better than anyone, we can all be rebuilt.

  As if to drive the point home, she sniffed gently at one of my fingers; or, at least, I felt hot air roll across my fingertips, singeing my gloves.

  I was grateful for my training as an airman since I was certain that it was all that was currently keeping me together. I had priorities, but whether or not I could respect them would be a different story. There were actions an airman had to take in a situation like this one, and none of my options had anything to do with standing as still as my statue, staring at a dragon. Then again, no one had planned for these contingencies. Not even Adamo, and he’d been the chief strategist among us.

  I have to check the Esar’s body, I told the dragon, marveling at how strange it felt. Minutes ago, the Esar had almost certainly been willing to arrest and execute the three of us—his wife and mistress included—and now here I was in the unique position of checking whether or not he was even still alive.

  But it was the right thing to do, whether or not he would have done it for us.

  Why? the dragon asked, cocking her wide head curiously as I got to my feet. You’re safe now, I think. He won’t get up. I hit him hard. It was an accident, but I’m not sorry.

  I know, I told her. But if he’s still breathing …

  I trailed off. Not because I didn’t know what to say but because I honestly didn’t know what would come after that.

  He’s not dead, the dragon said, peering up at me. We’d stop working if he were.

  Why’s that? I asked, curiosity getting the better of me for a moment.

  We’re tied to him by blood, the dragon explained. Just a little. Not enough to wrangle me, but if he broke, then so would we. I think.

  I still have to check on him, I told her.

  Even his guards don’t seem very worried about that, the dragon said, swishing her tail thoughtfully.

  They’re scared, I explained.

  Sissies, she replied, but she sounded pleased to know I believed they were scared of her.

  The Esarina
sucked in a breath, perhaps still anticipating some further attack. I was acting as though in a vacuum—I was still the only one who knew the dragon was on our side. Or at the very least, she seemed to be on my side. But it wasn’t kind to keep this to myself any longer.

  “It’s all right,” I said aloud, holding up a hand slowly, so as not to startle anyone. “She isn’t going to hurt us. She came to find me.”

  Balfour! the dragon said, proudly. I thought I’d bust a gear with all that waiting.

  I probably looked as though I’d busted a gear, attempting to have two separate conversations at once. Still, I did my best to apologize to her. I didn’t know you were looking for me, I explained.

  “This …” the Esarina faltered, not knowing what words to use. “This creature belongs to you?”

  “I wouldn’t put it like that, exactly,” I said; everything had happened so quickly, I didn’t want her to get the wrong idea.

  Are you embarrassed of me? the dragon asked.

  I wouldn’t put it like that, exactly, I repeated, this time for her alone.

  “It’s one of Nico’s dragons, Anastasia,” Antoinette said. “Balfour looks as surprised by her appearance as the rest of us—if not more so.”

  She wasn’t wrong about that, I thought. Skirting the edge of the hole my dragon had torn in the floor—while she watched me curiously, wondering why I cared—I knelt near the rubble half covering the Esar’s body. His skin was pale, coated in dust from the white stone of the floor beneath the mangled carpet. His condition didn’t look promising, but I steeled myself—there was that word again—and leaned in closer, with my head nearly up against his chest, to see if he was breathing. I could have checked his pulse, but I didn’t want to trust something as crucial as the Esar’s life to the particular sensitivities of my hands. Even after all this time, I was still getting used to them.

  Antoinette started across the floor toward us, then stopped herself, standing just short of the dragon behind me. The Esarina herself hadn’t budged but was as still as a statue, with her hands clasped tightly together.

  A faint, guttural rasp filled my ears, and I felt the Esar’s chest rise weakly, then fall.

  “He’s alive,” I said, breathing a considerable sigh of relief myself.

  “These damned dragons,” Antoinette muttered. She didn’t appear to be happy or sad about the news, just angry. “He couldn’t leave well enough alone.”

  “We’ll take him with us to the Basquiat,” the Esarina said, her voice quiet but with an unmistakable undercurrent of iron. “Your healers can see to him, Antoinette.”

  “Of course,” Antoinette said without hesitation. “I’ll make arrangements at once.”

  Just as I was about to ask how we’d make it across Miranda with a dragon in tow—obviously, I could hardly leave her here unsupervised—the sound of shifting rock and dirt broke once more through the silence of the audience chamber.

  If it was another dragon, I really didn’t know what we’d do. Just one had already caused damage enough, though at the same time, we were all beholden to her for her help.

  Antoinette took her place once more beside the Esarina, and I stayed crouched next to the Esar, tensed for whatever might next be thrown our way.

  Don’t worry, Balfour, the dragon said, apparently having sensed the sudden chill in the room. She hadn’t tensed; in fact, it appeared to me as though she was inspecting one of her sharp claws. It’s only a friend. She’s awfully cranky, sometimes, and rarely clever, but she means well.

  I barely had time to wonder what she meant by that before another dragon poked its head out of the hole. She was mostly gold, with patches of other metals soldered to her carapace; I barely had time to admire her before she’d squirmed her way into the room with us, followed by Laure, then Adamo, then the rest of our ragtag rescue team, like rabbits being smoked out of a warren. They looked very much the same as I felt—as though they’d been buried, then dug back up again like a dog’s prized bone—but no one was missing, and everyone seemed to have their limbs all in the right place.

  For a raid, Adamo always said, those were good statistics.

  Last to exit the tunnel was the young man in the green uniform, whose name I seemed to have misplaced in the shuffle.

  “I wondered if we’d be seeing you again soon,” Antoinette said, not looking particularly shaken, though I saw her cast a sharp look over at the new dragon, her lips tight. After all the trouble that’d been caused for their sake, I understood the source of her animosity even if I didn’t share it.

  I checked the Esar again to make sure he was still breathing. If he was aware of anything that was currently happening, it wasn’t apparent. I wondered if what I’d felt hadn’t been his last breaths—but then I saw his chest rise and fall a second time. His breathing was shallow, but it was definitely there.

  “More dragons,” the Esarina murmured. “How many are there, exactly?”

  “Four,” Adamo grunted, looking around. “Appears as if we missed the battle.”

  “Got caught in one of our own,” Ghislain explained.

  “Just a small one,” Luvander said.

  “And we didn’t do much,” Raphael admitted.

  “I told Cornflower to keep watch over the others in the tunnel,” the young man in the green uniform explained. “I promised I’d go back for her soon, but we wanted to make sure everything was all right up here, first. She’ll let me know lightning-quick if anything goes wrong, but Ironjaw was in such a state after them two ganged up on her, and Troius didn’t have so many men with him that it’d be a problem for my girl to take care of.”

  “Forgive me, but I understood so little of what you just said that I fear you might as well have been speaking a foreign language,” the Esarina said, wringing her hands together. “And my husband is still in great need of medical care.”

  I saw Adamo looking around the room, noticing the Esar for the first time, then the guards cowering in the corner, then me and my vigil. My dragon, of course, he’d seen right away—that was one thing he was trying his best not to look at, which was a sentiment I could understand. It was difficult for me to look at her as well, but I didn’t wish to give offense for a second time.

  The rest of the group looked bone-tired. Even Ghislain wasn’t standing as straight as he usually did, though that could have been attributed to all that crouching in the small tunnels. But how Raphael was still on his feet, I’d never know. Stubbornness had a great deal to do with it, I’d imagine. Even Laure, who’d been raring to go since the minute we’d learned of Adamo’s arrest, looked like she was beginning to wind down.

  What we all needed was a hot meal, an even hotter bath, and a good long rest. Sadly, at the minute, all those things seemed so remote as to be almost completely unattainable—far more extraordinary than a dragon.

  “I think we’d better call a meeting,” Antoinette said at last, brushing the stone dust off her skirts, “before any of this—or any of those”—she added, gesturing to the dragons—“gets out.”

  “Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Adamo agreed.

  SIXTEEN

  TOVERRE

  Days ago—perhaps even hours ago, though I’d long since lost track of time and its passage—the idea of a clandestine meeting held within a secret chamber of the Basquiat would have delighted me to my core. How marvelous and dangerous, I would have thought. But a great deal had happened since then, and I was a changed man. I’d been given my marvels and my dangers, my clandestine meeting held within a secret chamber of the Basquiat, and I was ready to see the back side of all these things. Quite simply put, I was sick of them.

  It hadn’t helped my impression that, for the duration of said meeting, I was exhausted and itchy, not to mention incredibly filthy, and no one seemed to share my desperate need to pause the proceedings and take a bath. My own foulness was only a mite more distressing than everyone else’s. There’d been no one at the meeting who wasn’t caked with dirt and dust. At least
our lives had no longer been in explicit danger—though it was difficult to believe even that after having seen what I had.

  At least the Esar would not have the chance to arrest me just yet. I had real evidence now that I’d be too delicate for prison—especially if all prisons were so unhygienic.

  At the meeting I’d placed myself strategically next to Gaeth, so I could lean on him whenever I began feeling drowsy—he was the cleanest of us all, somehow—and also so I could be certain that he wouldn’t disappear once more in the gathered crowd. As soon as this impromptu assembly was over, I was going to have some incredibly sharp words with him regarding the etiquette and bad manners involved in leaving your friends high and dry. It seemed to me that the poor fellow really was as hopeless as I’d always imagined him to be; as someone of better standing, not to mention considerably more advanced in the world of knowledge, it was my responsibility to take him under my wing until further notice.

  I didn’t precisely relish the task, but neither was I dreading it as I might have, once.

  We were fortunate Antoinette’s hidden chambers were so large, since we’d somehow managed to squeeze so many people into them—Antoinette; the remaining airmen; the Esarina; Laure, Gaeth, and myself; and also Troius, though fortunately we had not attempted to squeeze the rest of his men and the Esar’s personal guard in with us, as well.

  The dragons—all four of them, or three and a half by Laure’s count, after the damage done to Ironjaw—appeared to be put out when they’d been told to stay behind and out of sight, banished once more to the tunnels. They’d done terrible damage to the floor at first, forcing all owners to be quite firm with the beasts until they did as they were told and curled up, though some managed this with far less metallic rumbling than others.

  Laure’s in particular seemed to be difficult though I don’t know why that ought to have surprised me. We were all merely lucky that Laure herself hadn’t been born with claws that fierce.