The Dragon Eater, page 16
part #1 of The Tharassas Cycle Series
There was a leather sheath with a much simpler knife with a plain hilt that was nicked all along the blade, and a sack of apples that had seen better days. Aik threw the apples away but put the cloth sack onto the pile of clothes to be washed.
Then there were the artifacts.
He picked up the spiral one he’d seen before in Raven’s lair. The metal was silver-hued, but with a strange reddish-golden tint that hadn’t been apparent in the dim light of the caverns. He carried it to the window casing to get a better look at it in the sunlight. It was about as long as his hand, and beside each of the embedded red gems was a smooth hole. There was a larger hole at its base, with a raised rim as smooth as glass. An instrument?
Aik put it to his mouth and blew.
No sound came out.
He took it back to the table, but as he set it down, he noticed it was emitting a faint red glow. Aik shivered. They didn’t glow before, did they?
He pulled out the next one — a long, thin tube of metal. It was glowing too. More red crystals dotted one side in a line. There were no holes in it other than at the two ends. Stranger and stranger.
Two more artifacts shared the same basic design, but with slight variations in size and shape.
He put the last one down on the table next to the others and pulled up a chair to sit and stare at them.
It was like a puzzle. When he was a child, his mother had made him mind games cut out of painted flop tree wood, intricate little things with a hundred pieces that he would put together and take apart again and again.
He could see how the spiral might connect to the tube, and the others might go there and there …
He rearranged them and placed them in order, almost touching.
They began to vibrate, dancing on the tabletop. The largest two pieces snapped together, locking into place. Then the others did as well, leaving one long, gleaming thing.
Aik gasped. What in the green holy hell?
There was a sharp knock at the door.
Aik looked around wildly. He didn’t know how official his place was here, or if the other Sisters would take kindly to his rummaging through Raven’s things and making a mess of the Queen’s quarters.
Not knowing why, he picked up the combined artifacts and ran through the bedroom to the balcony. He slipped outside, hiding around the corner just as the door to the suite swung open. Aik pressed his back flat against the smooth stone wall, holding the artifact tightly to his chest, praying whoever it was wouldn’t pop outside for a bit of sunlight.
After a moment, he chanced a peek inside. It was too dim, and his eyes had adjusted to the bright daylight. He caught only a quick impression of a woman in a purple robe standing at the table, staring at Raven’s things, before he ducked back behind the protection of the wall. He waited, breaths coming quickly, hoping whoever it was didn’t come exploring.
When he dared look again, she was cleaning, dusting off all the surfaces in the receiving room.
An initiate. Aik’s heartbeat slowed.
Soon she was cleaning the floors with a mop and bucket.
Aik waited her out, wary of springing himself on the unsuspecting girl. The day was warm, and the sounds of activity floated up from the grounds below — the rush of the breeze through the hencha, the clash of wooden swords out on the practice field.
He’d seen those women fight. I’d hate to meet up with one of them in the dark, guard training or no.
A few moments later, the door clicked shut again.
Aik closed his eyes and let out a grateful sigh. He waited a little longer to be sure the coast was clear, then he did a quick sweep of Silya’s quarters to make sure they were empty.
He set the artifact down on the table and stared at it. It was still glowing, but now there was light in the crystals as well, a strange phantom radiance that seemed to move between them like a red fog.
It looked like a gauntlet. A strangely shaped one, made for someone with arms thinner and longer than his. But still …
He picked it up again and looked through the “arm hole” into the thing. Other than having melded together, the pieces seemed basically unchanged.
Curious, he put the fingers of his right hand into it and the hole expanded, the “metal” melting and reforming around his fingers. His eyes went wide. It was warm and inviting, sending a tingle through his hand and up his arm.
I shouldn’t. It’s not mine. Not that it was Raven’s either. He’d found them in the caverns below the city, if what he’d said was true. Not that Aik had ever known Raven to lie. Not about anything important.
The warmth was seductive, sending a flush of pleasure through his body.
He tried to put it down, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
You deserve this.
It was an alien thought. Selfish. But it got its hooks into him.
When do you ever do anything for yourself?
Both of his friends seemed chosen for greater things. With Raven, it wasn’t clear exactly what that was yet, but something had happened to set him apart. If it didn’t kill him. Aik shivered at the thought.
And Silya was the Hencha Queen, Jas help her.
Aik was the odd man out, the only one not marked by fate for greatness.
What am you supposed to do, just follow along after them and clean up their messes?
He was thrilled for Silya, and as for Raven … He certainly wasn’t jealous that Raven had a creature in his stomach. But when will it be my turn?
You deserve this. You were meant for this.
Aik shuddered. “Who is that?” He looked around, but he was all alone in the room.
Panicked, he tried to pull the gauntlet off his arm, grabbing the edge with his other hand and tugging at it frantically. Loja help me.
Lo’Oss ignored him, and so did the metal, flowing up around his palm, inching its way up his hand like a hungry beast. Fear surged through him, prickling goosebumps flaring across his forearms. What do you want from me?
Howling, he shook his arm, trying to knock it off, but the thing was relentless, flowing past his wrist and up his forearm, the red crystals glowing brighter and brighter.
Aik banged it against the wall, trying to knock it off, but he only hurt himself, sending shock waves of pain up his arm.
“No, no, no!” Stupid Aik. They’re right. You’re an idiot. He grabbed Raven’s old knife, unbuckled it, and slipped it out of its sheath one-handed. He stuck the blade under the advancing flow, drawing blood, and it stopped.
Aik panted, calming himself with a few deep breaths. He needed to figure out what to do next.
I can’t cut my own arm off. At least, he wasn’t desperate enough to try that yet. Maybe if I —
The knife in his hand heated up in his grasp, turning hot as a furnace. “Mother of Jas!” He let go, and the blade clattered to the ground.
The thing resumed its climb, and in seconds encased his entire forearm, stopping just below his elbow.
Aik tried to pry it off with his free hand. “Come on.” He growled. It wouldn’t move. It sealed itself to his skin as tightly as if it had been glued on.
He looked at it in combined fear and wonder — it fit him perfectly, as if it had been made for him specifically by a master armorer. His mother would have been fascinated. Maybe she would know how to get the gods-cursed thing off his arm.
Aik tugged at it again, panting heavily, trying to pull it off by brute force, but it was as immovable as a gravid aur.
Sweating, he sank down on one of the bulky wooden chairs, his chest heaving, staring at the gauntlet that covered his lower arm. Now I know how Raven felt. Invaded by a strange thing that had attacked him without warning.
It shimmered and its red gems flashed. Then the whole thing faded from view, as if it had never been.
Aik stared at his arm. What in the green holy hell? He reached out tentatively to touch the skin of his right forearm. It was smooth and pliable, covered with fine blond hair, every mole and scar in place.
The strange gauntlet was gone.
Thank Jorja. Relief flooded him — the wild goddess had come through for him after all — followed by crushing shame at having been so stupid.
Raven would be furious that Aik had “lost” some of his precious things, and Aik had absolutely no idea what to tell him. See, I took out those artifacts, and they swallowed my hand whole. Look! Not that stranger things hadn’t happened.
Except that there was nothing to show him.
He needed some time to figure this whole thing out. Did I imagine it? He was exhausted — maybe it had been some sort of fever dream. Maybe the artifacts were buried in Raven’s lair under a heavy blanket of water.
He threw Raven’s remaining things into their sacks one after another, determined to hide the evidence before Silya and Raven returned. His face flushed with heat. Was this how Raven felt all the time?
When he was done, he sat down on a chair on the balcony, staring at his bare arm. Not a hair out of place. It did happen, right?
Sooner or later, Raven would notice the artifacts were missing. I have to tell him.
When Raven and Silya returned, he hid his right arm under his leg, even though the gauntlet had vanished.
Raven found him first. “Aik, where are you?”
“Out here.”
The thief appeared at the doorway. His friend was flushed with excitement. “There you are.”
“Hey Rave, I need to tell you —”
“It’s my fault. I’m sorry I was such an ass earlier.”
Aik stared at him. An actual apology from Raven, Prince of Thieves. Maybe the world really is ending. “Thanks. But I wanted to tell you —”
“Thank you for your offer. It was really sweet — it just kind of freaked me out. But I don’t think things are going back to normal any time soon.” A shadow crossed his face, his hand sliding down to his stomach.
Aik’s eyes narrowed. “What happened?”
“Sister Tela found something in the archives. Oh, and that sergeant — Kek? — is after me again. Come on.”
“Something happened while you were out —” But Raven had already slipped back inside, oblivious to Aik’s concern.
Aik took one last look at his arm. The gauntlet was truly gone, as if it had never existed. He heaved a sigh of relief and decided to leave things be, for now.
He got up to follow Raven inside. I’ll tell you later. It will keep.
• • •
Deep in her cavern, the spore mother stirred. Around her, her children had taken up residence, transforming her little world into a reasonable facsimile of Uurccheea. She was surrounded by the sounds and smells of the homeworld. the cricking-purr of the oosil as the tiny worms spread their life-giving mucus along the cavern walls.
Something had shifted. She could feel it.
Out there, in this strange and frightening world she’d awakened in, a bit of the progenitor had awakened. He’d found a new host.
Joy filled her. She’d feared he was lost for good. Her memories of the last time were fragmented and unreliable, but she remembered him … shining, beautiful, bonded to one of the local life forms, ready to adapt the world to the needs of the aaveen.
Soon, she would know more about the place she found herself in. Then she would begin to refashion it for her brood.
Uurccheea would be reborn, and her children would inherit their new world.
12
Verent
“Sister tela, what do we know?” Silya was growing impatient with the old archivist. The Temple library was a stuffy collection of sneeze-inducing, dust-covered books and scrolls placed on scores of shelves, books stacked on books and on the floors too, and even more papers stuffed into old wooden chests. It was a minor miracle the archivist could find anything in this inthym’s nest of knowledge.
Silya had never enjoyed passing time there as an initiate. She’d spent most of it recopying old writings or transcribing the words of one of the sisters for official missives to the City Council or one of the local merchants.
Sister Tela cracked a smile. “This is where it gets interesting.”
Raven shot her a why didn’t we get to the interesting part half an hour ago? look, and she had to suppress a grin. He was looking over the nearest shelf of books, apparently fascinated, muttering to himself and clutching his vest. Silya raised an eyebrow. She’d have to keep an eye on the thief to make sure he didn’t pocket anything.
“Please, tell us.” I’m begging you. She was on edge, and she knew it, so she tried to make allowances for the poor archivist. The hencha hadn’t spoken to her all day — she’d tried to summon the flames to scare off Ser Kek and had bullied her way through when it failed. She wasn’t sure if she should ask anyone about it — what if the hencha had rescinded their blessing? And what would she do if that stubborn man showed up on the Temple steps to drag Raven off to the Guardhouse?
Aik had stuffed his huge frame into an average-sized human chair in one corner of the room. He was picking dirt from under his fingernails with a short knife. Silya’s eyes narrowed. And what’s wrong with you? He didn’t seem his normal, affable self.
Sister Tela dropped a heavy book on the table in front of her, startling her and sending up a cloud of dust from the old pages. She flipped it open and gestured to Raven and Aik. “Does this look familiar?”
Raven sauntered over to see it, and stiffened.
It was a watercolor, drawn in black ink with a fine hand and colored in a delicate white. The creature was sleek, beautiful, full of tightly wound energy. Silya traced the lines of the image — the neatly drawn scales, the golden eyes.
Aik leaned over her shoulder. “Yes. That’s what it looked like, only smaller.” Aik glanced across the table at Raven, his brow knotted in concern. “What is it?”
“It’s quite exquisite, isn’t it? Queen Jas’s wife Sera painted it — she was a very talented artist. We have entire books of her work, some of it apparently drawn from the visions of Queen Jas, and some of it simple landscapes that shed light on what Gullton was like then. Did you know they called it Gully Town —”
Silya rolled her eyes. “What is it?” The words came out harsher than Silya had intended. She liked Sister Tela, but the woman tended to get sidetracked by her vast knowledge.
The archivist blinked. “Oh yes. I am sorry. It’s a dragonette.”
Raven nodded as if he’d known it all along. His face was pale.
Aik stared at her.
“That’s what Sara called it, anyhow. She was from Earth — one of what they used to call the runners. Some people also called them angels. Did you know that in the predominant religion, angels were magical beings —”
Silya cleared her throat.
“Ah yes. Sorry.” She climbed a short ladder and scanned through a row of leather-bound books on the top shelf, each labeled in gold. “Ah, here it is. The Menagerie.”
Silya watched her climb down with some concern. Sister Tela was not a young woman. Maybe they needed to find her some assistants.
“These are all her animals, collected into one volume by a talented artist named Sol’Eria. Many of them appear to be mythical or imaginary. There’s a long-necked spotted thing called a giraffe that could never really exist in nature. Poor thing’s head would just topple over —”
“Sister Tela …”
“Right. Sorry. It’s just so rare that I get to share these things with anyone. No one has much of an interest in the arts anymore.” She sat and flipped through the book. “Ah, here it is.” She spun the book around for Silya and the others to see. “Yes, ‘dragonette’ was Sara’s word for it. Queen Jas’Aya called it a verent.”
Sol’Eria’s book showed the beast in a multitude of poses, including flying across the green sky, its white wings extended. Silya bit her lip. It reminded her uncomfortably of her own brief vision down in the tunnels, when her fingers had brushed the glowing walls. Was that the creature she’d flown upon?
Raven clutched his stomach, groaning.
Silya touched his shoulder. “You feeling all right?”
Raven shook his head. “I felt better before I saw that … thing again.” He pulled out a chair and sank into it. “What’s it doing in there? Eating my insides?” He hugged his arms close to his chest.
“What else do we know about it?” Aik was staring at Raven. There was no mistaking the look on his face. Aik had it bad for the dashing thief, but there was anger there too. Trouble in paradise?
Silya looked away, feeling voyeuristic. “Yes. What do we know?” They were going around in circles.
Sister Tela licked her finger and turned the page. “Not much. The verent are thought to be ice creatures. They live in the north, and few have ever been seen.” She scanned through some hand-written notes in the Menagerie. “When Solene painted these, she made notes of all the lore she could find from Queen Jas’Aya’s own journals. This one references an entry from the fifth of Edu, 324 AL … the year the Queen died.” She turned away and vanished down one of the musty aisles in search of the journal.
Silya watched her go. She’d likely be back there for a few minutes, searching through the dust-covered stacks. This was as good a time as any. “Raven, let me see your forearms.” It had been bothering her all day. He’d been hiding them, holding his arms in unnatural positions, always crossed over his stomach or against his sides. Except when he scratched at them when he thought no one was looking.
“There’s nothing wrong with me.” He stared at her defiantly, Queen or no.
Silya liked that he still treated her like a normal person, though she’d never tell him so. “I didn’t say there was. Your arms, please.” She put steel in it this time. You’re the Hencha Queen. Own it.
Reluctantly, he laid his forearms on the old wooden boards.
Silya pulled a gas lantern over from the edge of the table for a better look.
