by Devin Hanson
Jules watched him stare to the north as they walked. "And the other way around, I imagine."
Andrew smiled. "I suppose so. I hadn't noticed it before, but I could almost point in the direction where she is. So, what's the plan?"
Jules shook her head. "There is so much we've lost. Nobody knows what being a Dragonspeaker means any more." She sighed. "To answer your question, we get on an airship and go south, to Nas Shahr. I would prevent the coming war, if I can."
Andrew nodded. "That could be dangerous."
"Not any worse than staying here where Trent has powerful friends," Jules pointed out. "At least there, all that might happen is I get thrown in prison or killed."
"Well," Andrew said brightly, "you'll have plenty of time to teach me alchemy then. It wouldn't do for the first Dragonspeaker in two thousand years to only know a handful of runes."
Jules smacked his shoulder. "It sounds so pretentious when you say it. I almost preferred you as a gunny."
The sun was starting to peek over the rooftops and they were no longer the only people on the street. Jules paused to raise the hood of her cloak, shadowing her features. Andrew noticed she had a new revolver on her belt though this one had no runes on it yet.
"Expecting trouble?" he asked.
"Being careful."
Andrew's pulse quickened and he felt his limbs loosening, preparing for a fight. Now that he looked carefully, he could see that Jules was in a similar state. She placed her feet carefully, keeping her balance as she walked. The slightest noise in the street made her look in that direction, though her movements were calm and liquid, no sudden jerks that might alert a watcher.
He envied her poise and the grace with which she moved. This sort of cloak and dagger business was something he was unfamiliar with. Put him in the wilderness with hungry dragons searching for him and he was in his element. Outsmarting assassins in the street was something he had no experience with.
"Calm down," Jules whispered. "You're attracting attention."
Andrew forced himself to stop peering into alleys and gave himself a mental shake. The faint warmth of one of Ava's scales under his shirt gave him comfort. Between it and the scales in his pack, he could reduce Andronath to smoking rubble. Dealing with a few assassins shouldn't be too difficult.
Besides. Jules was here. Andrew might be dangerous, but Jules was deadly. With the runed blade at her hip, with the revolver in its holster, with the alchemy at her fingertips.
"You know," Jules said, "I was surprised to hear you were on the airships during the Ardhal disaster. We were told all hands were lost. I almost didn't believe you are the sole survivor. If it had been anyone else telling the story, I wouldn't have."
Andrew shook his head. "I don't like thinking about it. I haven't told anyone else since then."
"You're sure your parents were killed? I mean, is it possible they weren't home?"
"Don't… Jules, please. Don't talk about it."
"Sorry." They walked for a while, each lost in their own thoughts before Jules spoke again. "My father believed in that plan so much, he personally funded from my family's coffers, the majority of the construction of those ships. We were so certain it would succeed."
"It could have," Andrew said shortly, "were it not for the scheming of the nobles trying to gain prestige and fame without earning it. The men on the Caerwin were barely trained, myself included. Why would you spend such wealth building the fleet then skimp on the crew? If we had only a handful of gunners from Andronath on board, experienced men who knew how to lead a dragon, we would have succeeded."
Jules frowned, "Andrew, there were gunners on board. Every ship had at least two sets of crew."
"Impossible," Andrew shook his head. "I knew the gunners. They were farmers, craftsmen, miners. Not soldiers or even mercenaries."
Jules cursed bitterly. "How can that be? We paid for them, we got reports on the training! We had crew lists, even funerals for those lost."
"I'm just guessing here, but I would say someone betrayed the fleet from the very beginning."
"You may be right. I won't be letting this go, I can promise you that. I will find out who did this, and they will pay." Jules sighed and shook her head. "But nothing I can do about it right now. When the dragon destroyed those airships, my father lost most of our wealth. We were rich, Andrew, and now my family lives on handouts and scraps. The failure of that expedition ruined my father, and in more ways than just wealth. It broke his spirit and our influence in the court. I just don't have the leverage to exact justice yet."
Andrew scowled. On the one hand, he despised nobles for their selfish manipulations. On the other, Jules wasn't like that. And her father had tried to help in his way. But the memory of Lord Vierra trying to sell Jules to Trent was more real than any claimed attempt at humanitarianism.
"He was not always so callous," Jules said quietly. "Before… there was a time when he would never even consider the Priah's offer."
"You never did tell me," Andrew said, trying to change the subject, "what you wanted with the wealth of the brooding scales."
Jules looked away. "I suppose you deserve to know. I wanted to try again. Build better ships, train the crews better. Regain my family's wealth and status. Now, I don't know. After meeting Ava, I don't think I could in good conscience build a ship to kill dragons. I don't know what I want to do."
Andrew laughed. "I wanted the same thing, you know. I tried to gain entry to the Academy Alchemic to find a way to kill dragons, or at least drive them away." They walked for a minute in companionable silence. "There used to be cities, Jules, that spread for miles. A hundred thousand people, two hundred thousand, living in harmony with the dragons. That's what I want. Not to kill the dragons or to drive them off. Not just coexistence. I want harmony, communication, compassion. I want mankind and the Koss to live together and help each other."
"A noble goal, Dragonspeaker."
"Now you're just teasing me."
"No, I'm serious! That is something worth fighting for." She pointed, directing Andrew's attention upward. "Look, there's the docking tower."
Andrew saw the high tower rising above the buildings around it. An airship was moored at the top, a rather nondescript trader with twin torpedo balloons to give it more lift while carrying cargo. A carriage clattered past them going away from the tower in unseemly haste for this early in the morning. Andrew felt his earlier unease come back.
"Wait here," Jules said, and stepped forward to peer around the corner up the street. She pulled back almost immediately. "They've found the airship," she reported angrily, "Trent's men are all over the docking tower checking everyone who goes up."
"Do you have a plan B?" Andrew asked.
"And C and D, yes. But they all involve airships. Come on." Jules led them away, heading downhill to where the streets were busier. Before long they entered the merchant quarter and the bustle of early-morning traffic gave Andrew a sense of security, but his shoulder blades still itched.
"I think someone's watching us," Andrew said, resisting the urge to turn around and peer about.
"Yes. On horseback, half a street back. Don't look."
Jules led them to another airship docking tower, and they had to turn away again. "Well, there goes plan B."
"How does he have so many men? He can't put guards on every tower."
Jules sighed. "He can, and I would bet he did. The Priahs have money, Andrew. More than my father ever did. Much more. He can hire an army. Getting a few dozen guards to sit on docking towers while he closes the noose is pocket change for him."
"So now what?"
"We try the gates. We might be able to lose them in the wilderness." She didn't sound very certain of that at all.
They worked their way downhill and the number of people in the merchants quarter increased exponentially.
"Why are there so many people?" Andrew wondered. "I've never seen so many here at one time."
"They know something we don't," Jules
said darkly and pushed her way toward a boy standing on a bucket, waving a rolled paper over his head and shouting to be heard over the noise of the crowd. Jules slipped him a coin and got a rolled paper in return. She fought her way back to Andrew and showed him. It was a newspaper, a single-sheet extra. Block letters across the top explained why the district was so crowded.
"War," Andrew read aloud, "Salia declares war, demanding retribution for the murder of the the royal heir by Maar pirates." There was more, but Andrew didn't bother reading it. "So that's his game," he shouted to Jules.
"It was a setup from the start," she shouted back, "I wouldn't be surprised if Trent had them killed himself." She tossed the paper to the curb, where it was quickly tromped into the ground. The din of people buying and selling frantically was almost too loud to speak over. With Salia heading to war, trade would become difficult, and any products from outside the city would demand a premium.
Andrew noticed a pair of guards in Priah livery pushing their way through the crowd. "Jules," he called, "I think we're in trouble." He turned, not bothering to hide as he scanned the crowd. More guards approached from other streets, leaving only the way down to the gates open. He grabbed her elbow and pulled her along until she was jogging after him. Andrew put his attention on clearing a path through the crowd. His height and bulk made it easy for him to pick a path, and he soon outdistanced the guards.
As the road approached the gate, it widened until it was more of a plaza than a road. Wagons, people and teams of oxen crowded the space, everyone hurrying to and fro, loading wagons and rushing to get out the gate. Andrew slowed his forward push and pulled Jules into an alley between two warehouses.
"What is it?" Jules asked.
"The gate is guarded too. They're checking everyone going out on foot."
Jules swore quietly. "Okay. Okay, what next?" She rubbed her forehead with a hand as she frowned at the ground.
"Guess Trent did hire that army after all. I've never seen so many people in one uniform."
"You're not helping, Andrew."
"Sorry." He peered out into the street as Jules paced back and forth in the alley, muttering to herself. The Priah guards had spread out at the top of the plaza, content for now to just prevent them from escaping. It was a good trap, Andrew realized with a sinking feeling. The guards had funneled them neatly. There was no escape back into the city or out through the gate.
"I won't be taken, Andrew," Jules growled. "I'll fight my way through if I have to."
Andrew saw something then and he ducked back into the alley with a wide smile on his face. "Don't worry Jules. I have a plan." He peeked out and timed his exit with a passing wagon, Jules following close behind. Moving quickly, Andrew caught up with the wagon that had caught his eye and shadowed it to its warehouse destination.
The deep lowing of aurochs greeted his ears before his eyes adjusted to the gloom. Men and women hurried around, loading the last barrels and crates into the wagons. Andrew weaved through, heading toward the back of the warehouse. He asked a man loading a wrapped bundle for directions and led Jules to a back room where a deep voice shouting with a Maar accent could be heard.
The door banged open and a sweating teamster bustled out and pushed past Andrew with a muttered apology. Andrew caught the door before it could shut and waved Jules inside.
"What do you want," Shen growled, not looking up from the pile of paperwork he was going through. Bills of lading, inventories, handwritten lists and invoices were scattered all about. "I'm busy."
"Hi Shen. I was hoping to buy passage with you."
The wagonmaster looked up when he heard his name, and scowled at Andrew before sudden recognition flooded his features. "Mr. Condign!" He hurried around the table and wrapped Andrew in a bear hug before turning to Jules. "And who is this? Mrs. Condign?"
Jules laughed, a flush creeping up her cheeks. "No, nothing like that."
"Sorry," Andrew cleared his throat. "Forgive my manners. Jules, this is Shen, an esteemed mogul of Nas Shahr. Shen, this is Jules Vierra."
Jules dropped a curtsy, no less graceful for her lack of skirts and after a moment Shen bowed back clumsily. "I will admit," she said, "to some surprise at meeting a Maar here of all places."
Shen frowned down at his paperwork briefly. "And we will be a lot more scarce in the coming years. Mr. Condign, I'm glad to see you doing well. I had hoped things would work out for you."
"It was an interesting two years," Andrew said blandly, "but I've come out all right. You're in a hurry, I see. I hope you have room for two passengers. We can pay well, no need to waste time on bargaining for a low fair."
Shen shook his head. "There is no room for aught but cargo, unless you plan on working your passage again. It'll be a long haul this time, no stopping until we reach Nas Shahr."
Jules cleared her throat and stepped forward. "That is our destination, in fact. We don't require a whole wagon, just enough room to sit comfortably. Half a wagon bed should do." She opened her belt pouch and started laying gold royals out on the table, the metal glinting in the swampgas lights and making quiet clicking noises.
After ten coins, Shen held out a hand. "Enough. You'll get your space." He swept the royals off the table. "If you will collect your things, I have some rearranging to do. We will be leaving on the hour." He tipped a half-bow to Jules and stomped out, his leathery voice already bellowing orders at the men loading the wagons.
"You could have purchased your own wagon with that much," Andrew said, somewhat in awe.
Jules dropped her hood and ran fingers through her hair. "But then you'd have to drive it, and we have better things to do. Alchemy," she clarified, with a sideways glance at Andrew. "You have years of schooling to catch up on if you're going to be an alchemist in anything other than name. Dragonspeaker or no, it'll be a lot of work and you'll need your full attention."
Andrew couldn't think of a better way to spend the journey.
It was sweltering under the canvas tarp. They may have left the warehouse on the hour, but it was well past noon before the congestion at the gate cleared enough to let the first of Shen's wagon train through the gates.
The initial tension and worry of discovery faded slowly, to be replaced by alternating boredom and anxiety as the myriad undefined noises outside the tarp came and went. After an hour of nervous fidgeting and starting every time hoofs went by, Andrew settled into a state of mild disinterest. If they were to be discovered, there really wasn't anything they could do about it.
Jules had sunk into a quiet half-doze. She held her revolver in her hands, idly brushing the beginnings of runewords etched into the barrel. Andrew tried to copy her and found he was too nervous to do nothing.
Eventually, his frayed nerves accomplished what his will couldn't, and he dropped into an exhausted, sweaty doze.
Jules shook him awake what seemed like hours later. Outside, Andrew heard the clink of armor and the bored voice of a guard. "You there! Are you leaving the city with any new crew?"
Shen's voice responded. "All my men and women arrived with me. I did not take on any new crew."
"Any new passengers? We're looking for a pair, a man and a woman. They're wanted by the Crown of Salia."
"Only one new passenger," Shen answered, truthfully. "All the others traveled with me here."
"You mind if we search the wagons?" Footsteps and the clink of mail grew louder until the guard's shadow fell over the tarp. Jules raised her revolver and centered the sights on the shadow the guard's head cast on the canvas.
"I do. This delay has kept me too long already. If I am to make the waystation before nightfall, I must leave immediately."
"I've orders to-"
"This is Andronath, not Salia," Shen cut him off. "Unless a city official demands my delay and agrees to paying wages and boarding for another day stuck in this city, you have no grounds to hold me."
The guard cursed quietly. "Fine." He raised his voice and called out, "Let them through!" The shadow retre
ated and Jules lowered her revolver, letting out a slow breath.
The wagon lurched as the aurochs leaned into the harness, goaded on by the cries and cracking whip of the teamster. Andrew let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding and shared a tight smile with Jules. They were through.
Andrew didn't regret leaving Andronath behind. The city had some good memories in it, but the vast majority he would as soon forget. He looked forward instead. He couldn't guess at what the coming months would bring, but he knew he could expect peril, fear, pain and jeopardy. But he could also expect excitement, alchemy and adventure.
He couldn't wait.
Glossary
Source Runes
Ad: The Rune of Warding
An: The Rune of Keeping
At: The Rune of Holding
Ba: The Rune of Shielding
Be: The Rune of Finding
Ca: The Rune of Iron
Co: The Rune of Steel
Da: The Rune of Stone
Ig: The Rune of Fire
Ir: The Rune of Air
Ki: The Rune of Flesh
La: The Rune of Distance
Li: The Rune of Nothing
Me: The Rune of Wood
On: The Rune of Binding
Ro: The Rune of Hair
Runewords
Tan: At and An combined to form a protective/strengthening effect.
Igan: Ig and An combined to form a continuous burning effect.
Add: Ad strung with itself to form a Warding chain, blocking a runic effect from crossing the chain.
Banir: Ba, An and Ir, forming a shield in the air.
Runic Sayings
Airweight Saying: On Idani At'dani On - Makes the inscribed object as light as air
Locuscorpi Saying: On Rokala'li Robeki On - Makes the inscribed object point toward the owner of the hair.
Lingua Alchema
Dragongas: An alchemical flux used in Sayings and to power alchemy.
Airon: Iron that has been transmuted to be as light as air then sealed that way.
Pureglass: Shatter-proof glass often used as a luxury item, or as bottles for expensive goods.