Of Dragon Warrens and Other Traps

by Shannon McGee

  “As we like it!” Tess said, ducking her head as the commander raised an eyebrow at her.

  “A reminder. Experience is something most of us have in spades. Experience does not mean we cannot be taken by surprise. There’s no reason for this to be anything but a standard hunt, but cockiness has the potential to be fatal in our line of work. This past autumn is proof enough of that.” She met each of our eyes in turn. Though I looked for it, I saw no indication that she was thinking of me or my connection to the one other hunt I had been present for. Seemingly satisfied with the effect her words had, she nodded. “Now then, the details.”

  She went over her strategy for our hunt then. Occasionally one of her seconds or one of the mages would voice an opinion, and she would make an alteration or explain why she had chosen to go another way. Eventually we all had a clear idea of everything, from what formation we would walk in to what we would need to wear.

  When that was through, we were dismissed to clean up for supper. My mind on dragons, I spoke little as we grabbed our bathing supplies from our room. I followed Aella without looking where we were going, figuring that if there were limited tubs I could use hers after she was finished.

  As we stepped through the door to the bath house I stopped short. My whole life, up until Forklahke, I had only ever bathed using a water basin. At the fort, there had been stalls with chutes that would dump buckets of water on you, after you’d heated them with the small burner beneath. Those had always been solitary times. Dabsqin people, it seemed, bathed together in great pools.

  The one in front of us was longer than it was wide and looked deep enough that a person could swim in it, if they wanted to. I shot Aella a panicked look, clutching my towel to my chest.

  She smacked a hand against her forehead. “I’m an idiot. Taryn, I didn’t think. Is this going to be ok with you? It’s just women in here. The men have their own room, and the tubs are drained a few times a week and get cleaned several times a day…” She trailed off, trying to gauge my reaction.

  We were blocking the doorway. Tess and Belinda had to squeeze past us to join the other women already in the water. Tess stripped as she walked, tossing her clothes in a pile at the water’s edge.

  I swallowed. “Yeah,” my voice squeaked out. Frowning, I cleared my throat. “It’s fine.”

  “There are private stalls, like those at the fort, for those who are uncomfortable.” I jumped. Aedith had come up beside us. She had come from behind a curtain, already nude, wrapped in a towel. Aella took her place behind the curtain, the noise of clothing being shucked coming from behind the divider.

  “No, it’s all right. I’ve just never… I didn’t even know people did this.”

  Aedith crooked a smile. “I know how you feel. This was not the way where I come from either. When I was young, and I first came east, I didn’t mind it. After I came back from raising Aella… well, it took some time before I was comfortable letting anyone see me bare again.”

  Aella had exited the curtain wrapped in a towel, and she was gesturing for me to take my turn. I hurried behind the curtain, hoping she hadn’t noticed how the sight of her in a towel had made me go even pinker than my sunburn. When I came out, mother and daughter were both already in the water.

  One thing I could appreciate was that the steam lay so thickly in the air that it was difficult to see anyone very clearly from farther away. The water was foggy as well with minerals and heat, making it almost impossible to see through.

  As I drew closer, I blinked down at the commander. It was one thing to know that she was a warrior and a survivor of an abusive husband. It was another to see it. Her body, hard with muscles, was crisscrossed in scars. There were thin and thick lines, pock marks, and old burns. They covered her from the mark on her cheek to where her ribs disappeared under the water. Realizing that I was staring, I quickly averted my eyes. This was a silly way to bathe. At least she hadn’t seemed to notice my gawping.

  She and Aella were speaking with a lithe young woman who sat a few feet away from them. Their new acquaintance was staying in the inn as well, visiting from a city to the northeast. Her long black hair was caught up on top of her head in a messy chignon, contrasting starkly against her pale skin. Her Common was practiced, and smooth.

  I let the towel fall away and stepped into the water in the same breath, sinking beneath the water until my chin rested on the surface. The water fizzed with heat, and a surprised sigh of bliss slipped from my lips. The water was moving too. I could feel it being sucked toward the wall to my right. I watched as almost a month’s worth of grime lifted from my skin and streamlined in that direction.

  “They use magic,” Belinda said. She sat across the pool on the underwater ridge that ran along the whole of the basin. “Water is drawn from the river through a series of pipes and mesh filters. Then, a mage takes the heat from the sun—less than a grain of sand—and they put it in here in the stones. They also place a current into the water. It sucks it in a loop through a lower basin where herbs and oils purify it and sift the dirt away. When it’s clean, the water comes back up. It’s brilliant.”

  “That’s amazing.” I said, scrubbing at my arms with a washrag. “Isn’t it difficult though? Doesn’t it tax the mages?”

  Belinda shook her head. “It’s certainly not something a novice should attempt—tapping into the sun’s strength. That requires years of training and control. However, for masters it’s less taxing than you’d think. The sun wants to share its heat, and water always wishes to move. Not to mention a mage needs to bleed off magic sometimes. An untapped supply can be… uncomfortable.” Seeing my attention drifting as she began to speak of magic, she changed the subject. “The most expensive part is the purifying components. You can smell the citrus of the oils in the water, and see these inlays?” She tapped the tiny flecks of burnt-yellow stones set into the tile floors in sunburst patterns.

  “Yeah?”

  “Citrine.”

  I shook my head, not understanding. “So?”

  “It ain’t horribly expensive, but it ain’t cheap.” Tess was bent backward scrubbing her short, salt-and-pepper hair in the water. Her voice strained from the angle at which she spoke. “No crystal is. To have a whole floor covered in it… well, it says something. Can’t believe the commander got us put up in a high-scale place like this.”

  “The designs in which the crystals are placed help to hold the magic in this space, even after the mage has moved on. That’s even more expensive. Cleanliness is that important to the Dabsqin people,” the strange woman who had been speaking to Aedith added. “It is important to many people of the south.”

  “Why?”

  Aella flicked the water lightly with the back of her hand. “It’s a cultural quirk. All the main bath houses are like this one. Some are actually more elaborate.”

  It made a lot of sense. Dirtiness could lead to illness, and if sickness developed, then people could die. Wasn’t that what the local woman Betari had been most concerned about when it came to the drakes? Not the monsters themselves but the resulting sickness of grand proportions.

  I could sympathize. True sickness had come to Nophgrin only once in my lifetime. Michael and I had been six at the time. Living outside of town, we were shielded from the worst of the horrors it had brought. Still, when it was over there was no way to miss how many of the elderly were absent from worship services, including my grandparents.

  Two local men, Andrew and David, had been fully trained medics by that time… but they had been young themselves, and only Andrew had possessed minor healing abilities. Their powers and skills were not enough to save those whose bodies were already weak. That was the case for most places. Healers weren’t so common or powerful that they could save everyone, and willow bark tea and other herbal remedies were often useless against the big sicknesses.

  A place such as Dabsqin with so many more people crammed together had to feel that threat of epidemic even more acutely. It made sense that they would care
about pollutants of all kinds, not just from drakes.

  The woman was nodding, her almond eyes crinkling. “I can’t say I dislike it. It is nice to be clean, especially after weeks in a carriage. Is it not?”

  Bobbing my head in return, I said, “Yes ma’am.” Then, turning away from her a little, I scrubbed at my cheeks until no more dirt came off them, not minding the sunburn.

  She had to be wealthy. Besides the way she spoke, with careful and precise diction, no one else could afford weeks aboard a carriage. No one but a wealthy woman would have skin that looked like a newborn babe’s either. She swam closer, so she rested between Aella and me. As she passed Aella and Aedith, she shook their hands. Her smile was friendly and open as she extended a hand to me next. I took it, hesitantly, feeling a small jolt in the pit of my stomach when our skin touched. Her hand was small, pale, and smooth in my rough ones. The nail beds were neat and clean. I’d never thought a hand could look so delicate.

  “My name is Mai,” she said. “I’ll be here for the next week or so while my people resupply and rest. I have a few appointments that need seen to, but I would love to have a meal with all of you. Travelers have the most interesting stories. Do you not think it is so?” Her brown eyes twinkled as she looked at me intently.

  “That would be very nice.” Aedith said. Her eyes had shut, and her head was leaned back against the raised edges of the pool.

  “Wonderful. I look forward to it.”

  I cleared my throat, trying to get it to emit words, but Mai was already in motion. She shook Belinda’s and Tess’s hands as she made her way around that side of the pool. She spared us all one last smile before rising gracefully up a set of steps that led out of the water. A woman I had not noticed stepped from the steam and shadows to wrap her in a large towel. Behind us another woman gathered her belongings in silence.

  When she had gone, Aedith let out a gusty breath. “Nobility,” she said. Her tone was a mixture of amusement and annoyance.

  “She seemed nice,” I ventured. My hand tingled where she had touched it.

  “Lady Famai of the House of Swans.” That came from a spare woman at the far end of the bath. “She’s nice enough. She tips. You just have to make sure she is never kept waiting.”

  “But all nobility is like that,” her companion, a broad woman with the arms of a washer, pointed out.

  The two of them had been among the people to help check us in and bring our things up to our rooms. They answered a few questions that Aella asked about the noble lady, but I didn’t hear the answers. My heart was pounding. I’d thought Mai—Lady Famai—was a merchant’s daughter at best, but she had been a noble? I had shaken hands with a noble-woman. One who asked to be called by a nickname and who bathed with mercenaries and servants. She had been beautiful and gracious too, like a lady from a story.

  Wringing out my washing cloth and setting it on the side of the pool, I began to unravel my braids. I used my fingers to brush the hair out and it spread over the surface of the water like a veil. Wet, my dull, gold curls turned brown, but I knew that once they were dry, they’d be more vibrant than they had been in months. I had brought down my small vile of sunflower oil; I worked that into the hair from the ends, until about midway up. Then I twisted the mass until it sat on top of my head in the same way Mai’s had. Gradually, my heartbeat slowed.

  By the time Aedith rose, signaling to the rest of us that it was time to head for where the food was served, my fingers were shriveled. I didn’t mind. I felt luxurious and fancy, the feeling only dimming slightly as I pulled on my least worn clothes from traveling. The dirt on them was more apparent now that my skin was clean.

  Food was served in a covered courtyard, which the chilly evening breeze could billow through, making door hangings dance. Torches and lamps were stationed all around and hung overhead, giving the place a bright and cheery glow as the light glanced off the stained glass and patterned rugs.

  While many of the other guests in the inn came down to dine at the same time as our company, to my disappointment, Lady Famai did not appear at any point during the meal.

  “She probably chose to dine in one of the fine eating establishments in the city,” Aella told Luke. He had seen the lady in the hallway as he was leaving the men’s bathing room and had promptly besieged us with questions about her when we met back up.

  “Is there a finer place to eat in Dabsqin?” I asked dubiously.

  I certainly couldn’t imagine her finding food any better than what was before me. After weeks on the road, everything tasted like the most delicious thing I’d ever had.

  Among other things, there were more stuffed grape leaves and fried grasshoppers—they were called locusts here, I was told, when I asked why they looked different from the northern ones. There was an herb-crusted chicken that was so succulent I nearly swooned, a rich tomato and peanut based soup, as well as saffron rice, and a colorful salad made with figs, pomegranate seeds, and olives.

  Each dish was served on its own large silver gilt dish—not wooden bowls, but silver gilt! Mother would have been shocked at the extravagance. It was all out at once too. Rather than having each course kept up and away in the kitchen until its proper time, all the spread sat at the center of the tables when they weren’t being passed around communally.

  I gorged myself on all of what was offered—even trying the locust with a grin at Dai. Kaleb, who sat next to him, made a disgusted face. He even went so far as pretending to retch when his friend offered him some.

  “They’re not bad,” I told him, though actually looking at the things did still make my skin crawl a little. “They taste sort of nutty and like something I can’t quite put my finger on.”

  “Shrimp,” Aella chimed in helpfully. “They taste like shrimp cooked with peanuts. But they’re crunchier than shrimp.”

  “As she says.” I hadn’t had shrimp yet, though I knew it was often eaten on the coast. It didn’t travel well like mussels and clams did, even charmed frozen.

  “That’s just a bug of the sea, and besides, I am not a fish person,” Kaleb said. “So, you have already lost your appeal with that description.”

  “The man will take on a squadron of fighters by himself, but he’s afraid of trying a little bug.” Dai waggled his eyebrows at me and bit into his own morsel. He chased that bite with a swig of plum wine, which probably had a hand in lightening his mood—not that I minded. I liked him treating me like he had on our ride from Nophgrin. More like a friend than a potential problem.

  “I did try them once,” Kaleb said mildly. “Remember? You slipped a live locust into my bowl when I wasn’t looking two summers ago.”

  Aella choked on a snort, and I clapped a hand over my mouth to suppress my own laughter. “Dai, you didn’t!”

  Still snickering, Aella reached for her cup. “He did. I had forgotten about that. Kaleb—oh gods, you should have seen it. He screamed and just about flipped the table.”

  “I was surprised. I did not almost flip the table,” Kaleb protested. He reached for the pitcher, which Dai was keeping handy, refreshing his own goblet. “And I did not scream.”

  He offered the pitcher to us next, but I shook my head. Like Aella and Lucas, I was sticking to more of the spiced tea that was so common. I tended to go overboard when I drank, and I wasn’t going to risk going into my first hunt with a hangover.

  Timon, our host, made sure that all cups stayed full, beckoning his staff any time he noticed a pot or pitcher was even half empty.

  He was a jovial man, with pudgy cheeks and a belly laugh that surprised me the first time I had heard it. Now, he was pounding Victor on the back, guffawing over whatever story he had just heard, his eyes watering and his short turban askew.

  His wife, Hedda, covered what looked like an indulgent smile with one hand. I smiled in kind. I liked the feeling I got from him, though some of the merchants at the table looked at him askance as they sipped their tomato and peanut soup delicately.

  He had put us up amid
st the wealthier of his guests, at the unexpected but flattering behest of the earl who had hired us. Luckily, he didn’t seem to resent us at all for the imposition. On the contrary, he seemed more inclined to spend time with us than his other patrons.

  Aella caught my gaze, indicated the merchants with a tilt of her head, and crossed her eyes. I giggled, and she slurped at her soup noisily, causing the wealthy woman nearest to her to curl her nose in well-bred disdain.

  Servants came to clear away the plates. Some people excused themselves, while those who remained brought out their own individual amusements. Musicians pulled out long flutes to fill the air with soft, reedy music. Some guests took out pouches that held cards and little tiles that they arranged on the table. Twelfth Company refrained from any sort of gambling while in a host city, but they watched games or agreed to play if no stakes were placed.

  Though Aella and I were content to merely watch, Luke jumped in on one game. He assured Aella as he went that he didn’t plan to make the game “interesting,” however she didn’t look as though she believed him. Luke was a chronic breaker of Aedith’s no gambling rule. I sometimes wondered if that was what had got him kicked out of the guard… but that was none of my business.

  A yawn pulled my jaw wide. Between the warmth that still hung in the air, the comfort of a full belly, and the gentle music, I was well and truly lulled. There would be other days to get to know the locals. If the other mercenaries were to be believed, no hunt was completed within a day.

  Aella’s leg was touching mine lightly under the table, and as I excused myself, she glanced up from her conversation to watch me leave. The searching look in her eyes made my heart flutter, and I flushed as I looked away from her.

  The feeling reminded me of the night we had met. When we had walked to her tent, and she had tried to kiss me. Was she going to try something again? If she did, this time I might let her. I wasn’t the scared girl I had been months ago on the ride in to Forklahke. I was a mercenary now too, and it wasn’t as though I had a duty to my family’s farm and heritage anymore. Why shouldn’t I kiss a girl if I wanted to?