Dragon Chameleon: Paths of Deception

by Sarah K. L. Wilson

“You’re from the Lightning Region? You’re sure?” His eyes narrowed.

  Well, the best thing to do when you’re caught lying is to double down.

  “Are you calling me a liar?” I asked.

  I didn’t expect the gasp. Zyla’s gasp was to be expected. But both guards and every person in earshot gasped in unison before the guard flushed, his eyes flashing with anger.

  “Report to the central guardhouse in the pottery district of Eski by noon tomorrow to confirm your identities. Next!”

  Well, that didn’t seem so bad. I half expected him to challenge me to some kind of duel with that reaction.

  “You fool,” Zyla whispered the moment we were past the guards. “You’re going to get us all killed.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Saboraak was right about the rails. The carts on the rails had little hooks that were loose and mobile in one direction, but which caught on a ladder if they tried to roll backward. It was an ingenious way to deal with the steady verticals in this strange mountain city.

  Along the road, there were hawkers, like in every city, except these hawked wares through windows instead of from carts on the streets. Prospective customers would line up along the rungs of ladders for their turn to buy from the steaming warm windows and merchants with sleeves rolled up despite the cold were quick to take orders at one window and deliver the wares through the next one further up the ladder.

  Zyla avoided the roads with the rails and merchant windows, quietly directing Saboraak to a series of back ladders and staircases that seemed to lead deeper and deeper into the hidden parts of the city. I thought we should avoid ladders altogether. Saboraak’s approach to them was to simply hop to the next level and avoid them altogether. I wasn’t fool enough to speak that thought out loud.

  We found a back alley buried inside a stone crevice, and by the look of the debris on the staircases, it was meant for waste and hidden dealings.

  “There’s an inn somewhere along here,” Zyla muttered a few minutes after we found the back way.

  I didn’t want to say anything out loud, but I had no coin for an inn, and I doubted she did, either.

  “I can’t believe the guards thought we were from Kav’ai,” I said, hoping to soothe whatever was irritating her.

  “They didn’t. They thought we were Ko’Torenth nobility dressing up as Kav’ai for the festival.”

  “Then what was all that about cormorants?”

  She sighed. “It’s the traditional Noble Code of Ko’Torenth. We are expected to lie and to do it well and they are expected to pretend our lies are true but listen for the hidden code behind our words.”

  “That’s ridiculous!”

  “That’s culture.”

  Ha! The joke’s on you, Tor. It’s hard to ply your trade as a liar when you’re in a whole city of people who lie better than you do.

  I felt as though someone had thrown a bucket of lukewarm water over me. Great. Just great. I was like a declawed cat in a city of tigers.

  Apt.

  She could laugh all she wanted. She’d have to lie low in this city of few dragons, and from what I could tell, that meant spending her time in these back alleys that smelled like vomit and last night’s dinner.

  They also smell like blood. Violence has touched this place.

  “So what did the cormorant comment mean?”

  “He was asking me what level of noble I am. I chose a low house symbol – cormorant.”

  “And what did it mean when I said ‘lightning’?”

  “That you think you’re royalty. You’re lucky he didn’t kill you for the audacity of such a lie. Here we are,” Zyla said. “The Leaping Lizard Inn.”

  Would Saboraak consider herself a leaping lizard?

  I most certainly would not.

  “Okay,” Zyla said, as she leaned Bataar over the saddle and dismounted. “You bring Zin and Bataar inside and find a place for Saboraak. I need to go find a healer for Bataar.”

  “Whoa,” I said, leaping off of Saboraak’s back. “You’re the one who knows the people here, and I don’t think it’s safe out there. I have a bad feeling about this place.”

  “Then what do you suggest?”

  I rubbed the back of my neck. “I’m worried about leaving Saboraak here in the middle of a strange city. She sticks out like ... like a massive dragon. Anything could happen.”

  Noble. But I assure you, I will be fine. I can flame this whole city if I need to.

  “But,” I continued. “I’m also worried about you. How do we know who we can trust? What if someone tries to grab you out there? They did once before.”

  “Stop fussing. Your dragon will be fine.” As she spoke, she tapped twice on a door that looked like every other back door along the alley. “But we need a healer here immediately and we need to negotiate with the innkeeper and manage the injured. If you’re too worried to let me go find a healer then you will have to do, mud boots.”

  “Mud boots?”

  “It’s a word we use for yokels.”

  “I’m from the city!”

  Zyla ignored me, helping Zin down as she waited for the door to be answered. “You need to follow this alley until it comes out to a main square. Go up a few levels until you see a tall building with green doors and shutters with oak leaves carved into them. That’s a house of healing. They’re scattered throughout the city on the upper levels. Bring a healer here however you can. Can you do that?”

  I felt myself pull back. She didn’t think I could handle a simple chore?

  “Obviously,” I said, offering her an elaborate bow. “Whatever the lady wants, she shall have.”

  And this way she and the others would be in one safe place and not wandering around the city like vulnerable chicks away from the hen.

  I am no chick.

  “I want six trained warriors, a bag of gold, and a man who speaks every language of Everturn, but I suppose I will have to make do with you,” Zyla said. I didn’t like the way she raised her eyebrows when she spoke like that. It was like she was judging me.

  “What’s Everturn?” I asked.

  “The name of the world we live in,” Zyla said, rolling her eyes and then, as we heard the door opening, she waved a hand in a hurrying motion. “Now be off with you!”

  And don’t forget this spider.

  I had completely forgotten about the spider! I hurried to Saboraak’s muzzle, taking the proffered spider from her snout.

  It was sticky.

  I’ve been carrying it for hours. What did you expect?

  Ugh.

  Behind me, I heard Zyla speaking urgently to a man with a long apron and a close-fitting cap. I ducked out of sight and scurried up the alleyway – everything was ‘up’ in this city – shaking the spider to get the spit off of it.

  At least I was going to get a good look at the city! I couldn’t help the itch in my feet at the thought of that. It even blotted out the pain in my heel and the cold in the air.

  Just try to be careful. I’m beginning to get attached to you.

  I could even win dragon hearts in a city like this!

  Keep telling yourself that.

  Chapter Twelve

  I emerged from the alley just like Zyla said I would, and I barely managed to hold back a gasp as I stepped into the square. It was formed in a crevice in the mountain. Tall, sharply vertical buildings surrounded three sides of the small square, climbing up into the sky as if five or six of them were racing to grow above the others. I saw windows six or seven high and people in every window.

  I studied the square while I turned the metal spider around and around in my hands. It was a strange little thing. It hadn’t spat out sparks or felt warm to the touch, but its metal surface sometimes felt ... spongy ... under my fingers. Like it had a bit of give in it. I wondered what it would take to trigger those lightnings. What one man could do, another man could do. I’d just need to pull it out in a sticky situation and see if it would do for me what it had done for the Magika back on th
e hillside.

  In the alleys, lines of clothes drying intersected with one another, but here in the square it was lines of small bells and every wind that whistled through the craggy open area jingled tunes unique to itself.

  The building nearest me was a bakery and the smells coming from it made my mouth water. I could spend a day in the square and be happy to have spent it here.

  People filled every inch of available space, even rubbing up against the raised statue at the center – a rising creature portrayed as rocketing skyward on a carved trail of wind and ... ash? It was hard to tell.

  I couldn’t stay here all day. I couldn’t learn the ebb and flow of the city like I might want to. I needed to get up two levels and find this house of healing.

  I scanned the square looking for the closest ramp, or stair, or ladder. A likely looking spiral staircase - packed with people going up while a parallel one was equally tight with people going down – was only accessible by crossing the square.

  Taking a deep breath, I jammed the spider inside my shirt, wrapped my cloak around me, and plunged into the mass of bodies. The spider’s stiff metal legs dug into my chest every time someone bumped into me, but I didn’t dare lose it. I’d seen what it did in battle and I was too curious to lose it before I tried it myself.

  I tried to find a shoal of people moving in the direction I was going, but everyone was intent on their own business and none of them moved with the purpose I needed.

  In the end, I shoved forward, maneuvering step by step across the square, dodging one person only to have to plant myself in the path of another. There! An opening was forming in front of me. I leapt into it, surprised when no one else filled the gap. I teetered for a moment on one foot before catching myself and looking around.

  The crowd had parted around the central statue, leaving a space almost three people wide around it. As I stood motionless in the gap, I watched the crowd draw back further.

  How were they even finding room to pull back – and why now? Was this statue a fountain about to rain down water?

  I glanced around, trying to make sense of it until I realized that as many people as were staring at the central statue were also staring at me, eyes wide as saucers. I scrambled backward, trying to join the crowd. How did people go from loose individuals to an impenetrable wall?

  There was a gasp from the wall. I spun around to look up to the statue, desperate to know what was coming next.

  A man stood at the base of the statue, his eyes turned upward as if looking at the sky. Well, there was nothing strange there. It must feel claustrophobic to him in the middle of these tall buildings and people.

  He moved so suddenly that I jumped. He spun in place, his head snapping down to look at the crowd below – no, not the crowd – at me.

  Our eyes met across the gap and my breath caught in my throat.

  In the depths of his eyes, light swirled like a silver tide rising. It blotted out his irises and pupils until his eyes were nothing but silver – liquid, shining, but possessed of an otherworldly quality that made me shiver.

  I wanted to run, but my feet wouldn’t move. I reached into my shirt and drew out the spider. Would it even work for me? It looked like nothing but a wrought metal spider in the light of day. My hands shook as I held it up in front of me. Okay, spider, work your magic!

  Nothing happened.

  The man raised a hand, his index finger pointing right at me.

  Gasps filled the air as every eye swiveled to where I stood.

  My mouth was suddenly dry.

  “You!” he breathed. “You have it!”

  Maybe I shouldn’t have taken that spider after all. Not only was it useless, but now it was drawing attention.

  The man’s index finger began to tremble and then the silver in his eyes burst, splattering across his face and hair and dripping like hot wax in long trails to his feet. It pooled there, as if each drop was seeking out the others, not random, but alive.

  I was tumbling backward before I realized it. But everyone else was pushing backward, too. Somewhere behind me, the screams started.

  And then figures erupted around the man as I knew they would. They formed out of the heavy snowflakes in the air, swirling messily around him. Like small, personal demons formed of snow and silver, they whirled and grew.

  I knew I should shut my eyes.

  I’d seen this twice before and that was twice too many times. But my eyes would not shut even though they burned, tears streaming down my face from the wind and the cold. Not tears from stress or fear. Just from the wind and the cold. That’s probably why I was frozen in place. I was just too cold.

  What’s happening? What’s wrong?

  Trouble, Saboraak. Stay with the others! No one else needed to get hurt. Not when I was pretty sure it was me that they wanted.

  The snowy creatures pounced on their creator. A ripping, wet sound end in a high-pitched squeal that went on and on. Then, like a snowball breaking against an old wall, the creatures burst into a puff of snow and steam.

  When the cloud of their remains settled, there was nothing left of the man with the silver eyes.

  I didn’t wait for someone else to break the silence. I didn’t dare wait. I ducked under the arm of a man right behind me, quickly bent double and began pushing my way through the crowd, head down and refusing to be stopped. The insistent drum of my heart filled my ears and guided my feet. Forward. Forward. Forward.

  Yells and curses followed me. I didn’t dare turn to see who was following them. Whoever they were, they weren’t going to be friendly. I pressed on through the crowd, weaving and dodging.

  Were those faces I was passing? All I saw were expressions: confusion, surprise, hate. Did they see what happened? Would they turn on me?

  I didn’t dare stay long enough to find out. Just another corner and I’d be only another member of the crowd. I pushed harder. I wished that I could run forever until there wasn’t a single man left with silver in his eyes. What could I possibly have that they wanted? I was poor as mud without even a decent set of clothes to my name! Unless it was the spider. I could see wanting that – though it hadn’t produced any lightnings to defend me.

  I shoved it back in my shirt as I finally reached the spiral staircase leading upward. I pulled the hood of my cloak up over my head, joining the slowly ascending line of people. Was that man pointing to me as he spoke to a man dressed in dark emerald? How about the woman with the wide apron frowning in my direction? Everyone I passed was a potential threat.

  I didn’t breathe a sigh of relief until I reached the second level and left the slow train of people to push onto a narrow boardwalk above. I needed to get a hold of myself. I needed to find that house of healing. That was all. Whatever happened in the square had nothing to do with me. No one could blame me for it.

  Now, where was this green-doored building?

  I saw it as soon as I scanned the boardwalk – a tall white building with green doors and long green banners hanging from the upper windows. Perfect. I’d do my job and get out of here like nothing ever happened.

  Was that a man pointing to me? Nonsense. He must mean someone else. For a moment, I almost thought it was the same man in the green coat I’d seen a level below. But no, it must be a uniform.

  That had better not be the city guard of Eski! I did not want to get on their bad side the second I set foot in their city.

  I sidled nonchalantly to the first green door and then, as soon as the crowd surged and took me out of the gaze of the man in the emerald coat, I slid to the door.

  I took one last look back before I shut it behind me. A flash of purple caught my eye. It couldn’t be ...

  The crowd shifted again, and I caught a clear look at the face of a man in a purple Magika robe. Across the sea of people, our eyes met. I gasped, ducking in the door, my heart pounding. That was impossible! He couldn’t possibly be here!

  But I’d never forget the face of the man who tortured me.

  Shabren
the Violet.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Welcome to the Halls of the Oak,” a voice said and whirled to see a man smiling gently at me. He was dressed in white furs and wore a wreath of oak leaves around his neck. “Can I take you to see one of our healers?”

  I glanced back at the door behind me. I needed to get further into the building. Shabren and the guards would not be far behind.

  “Yes, please,” I said.

  The room we were in was some sort of anteroom. There were chairs and a fire and a wide stone basin full of glowing embers. All of it clean, fresh and tidy. Dax the White – one of the Dragon Riders I’d known in Vanika – would have loved this place. As a healer, he was always very specific about keeping things clean and well recorded.

  The man smiled gently. “If you’d follow me, then.”

  He moved gracefully, but slowly, down a smooth-walled hall and I nearly stepped on the backs of his heels in my hurry to go faster.

  “I need to see a healer right away,” I prompted.

  “Yes,” he said with a smile.

  “I’m in a hurry!”

  He frowned, still gentle like a beloved uncle. “Hurry helps no one. What causes this haste?”

  I opened my mouth, but I felt suddenly tongue-tied. I was used to spinning out a lie at a moment like this, but these people were used to liars. Maybe the best thing to do where they were concerned was to surprise them with the truth. I looked over my shoulder, worried that Shabren might be right behind me.

  “I have a hurt friend,” I blurted out. “He needs help right away.”

  “Is that why you came here wearing a black cloak?”

  “What?” I was so confused. What could he possibly mean?

  Tor?

  Saboraak! She needed to know that I’d seen Shabren in the crowd.

  Tor, there’s trouble here!

  My eyes lost focus for a moment as I tried to turn inward to sense what emotion that was filling her words.

  I sensed a movement out of the corner of my eye and came back to focus just in time to see the man with the oak leaf wreath heft an axe from off a bracket on the wall.