Broken by Magic: An Epic Fantasy Adventure (Dragon Gate Book 3), page 12
“Ah,” Sasko said, understanding dawning.
Ferroki frowned at both of them. “Spying on a zidarr could be hazardous to your health. If you want to report something, tell them about the suspicious jaguar.”
“I’ll keep that as a possibility,” Sorath said, “but Uthari might appreciate it more if we bring news of a suspicious zidarr.”
“Do you want him to appreciate you?” Ferroki asked.
“If it’ll keep him from torturing me again, maybe,” Sorath said, though he curled a lip.
Sasko doubted it was in him to kiss up to Uthari or anyone else.
“I just want to get Vinjo back from his people,” she said.
Sorath nodded and led her into the woods in the direction the man on the skyboard had gone.
Jadora understood some of the language of these new people and this new city. She hadn’t been certain after hearing only a few snippets from the riders they’d passed, but now that their group was following their escort through the busy streets, conversations going on all around them, she was positive. Whatever language these people were speaking today, it was derived from Ancient Zeruvian. Or Ancient Zeruvian had been derived from it.
Stepping through the portal and finding evidence of humans on other worlds was putting into question all of her assumptions about where, when, and how humanity had originated. What if it hadn’t been on Torvil at all?
“This place doesn’t seem all that different from home.” Dr. Fret waved at merchant stalls lining the streets they walked along, everything from produce to jars of dried meat and fish to wooden children’s toys on sale. “A city like Perchver. Maybe more… primitive? I don’t see any machinery, and the clothing is all quite simple.”
“The mages aren’t primitive,” Rivlen said, a hand on her sword as they walked, the women in the back and Malek at Jak’s side as they trailed the guards.
Malek had shifted protectively close to Jak when the gray-haired man in the black tunic had been eyeing him, and he was sticking close. Jadora appreciated that, but it worried her that someone had singled Jak out for some reason. Was it only because of the hatchling? She couldn’t imagine why else he would stick out. Even if someone sensed that he had the ability to use magic, it had to be minimal compared to Malek and Rivlen.
A roar came from somewhere up ahead. A crowd cheering?
They walked through an intersection, passing a huge stone fountain with a dragon statue in the center. Women with clay jars filled water from the pool underneath, then strapped the jars to their backs to carry them away.
“No water infrastructure here?” Fret mused.
“We didn’t have plumbing in the village where I grew up,” Tezi said. “I had to make trips to the well for water in the mornings.”
“But all of the major cities in the various kingdoms have had running water for some time,” Fret said.
Two women in white tunics with turquoise bracelets clanking on their wrists walked past them from the opposite direction, pausing to stare at Jak—and the hatchling. They whispered to each other as they continued on, glancing back at him several times. Jak glanced at them too.
Frowning, he met Jadora’s eyes. “Those two were powerful. A lot of the people here have auras like…” He waved at Rivlen and Malek.
“It would be wise to assume there is nothing primitive about this society.” Malek watched their surroundings alertly as they walked. “From what I’ve observed of their magic, it’s as advanced as ours and… powerful.”
That pause made Jadora uneasy, as did the long look that Malek and Rivlen exchanged.
She thought of her hypothesis that humans had developed magic as a result of prolonged proximity to dragon steel. If that was true, and if dragon steel was more ubiquitous here, more of the population could have the ability to use magic than on Torvil, and the average mage here could be more powerful than the average mage back home. It boggled her mind to imagine someone magically stronger than Malek, and she was suddenly glad that they’d waited for an invitation into the city and that he hadn’t tried to tear a hole in their barrier. A squadron of powerful mage guards might have come out to attack them.
Another roar came from up ahead.
As the group rounded another fountain, the street opened up into a square, and one of the large structures that had been visible from a distance came into view. An arena?
Made from stone, it rose several stories high with tiers of arched passageways full of people making their way to seats inside. Even more people were lined up at the numerous ground-level entrances, waiting to be allowed inside. Judging by its size, it could seat thousands, if not tens of thousands.
The periodic cheers coming from within suggested the events had already begun. During a quieter moment, the roar of something inhuman floated out, followed by an animalistic squawk of pain. The crowd cheered again, drowning it out.
Tezi and Tinder fingered their weapons. Malek always exuded confidence, no matter what, but even he seemed a touch concerned as he regarded the arena.
Jadora was relieved when their escort led them past the lines of people. For a minute, she’d worried that they were being herded into the arena to be sacrificed or thrown into some battle.
They circled the long oval structure, more roars coming from within, and headed toward a street leading out of the square on the far side, but instead of walking to it, their escort turned toward an entrance in the back of the arena. This one lacked a line of people, and two guards stood to either side of the arched doorway, deterring anyone who approached.
But the guards nodded at their group’s escort and let them pass.
“How are zidarr at fighting wild beasts?” Tinder muttered.
“Malek easily slew a jungle panther that wanted to munch on me,” Jadora said.
Malek glanced at them but didn’t comment. Their escort led them up two sets of private stairs, down another short corridor, and toward a curtained archway with more guards out front. Though hundreds of conversations were audible, echoing off the stone walls, there were few people in this part of the arena.
One of the guards parted the curtains for them but paused with a hand toward Malek’s chest. He’d taken the lead on the stairs, but the guard pointed at Jak and indicated that he should enter first. Malek squinted at the man.
Jadora squeezed past Tezi to stand beside Jak.
“Do you know why you’re being singled out?” she whispered. Though she’d recognized similarities between the local language and Ancient Zeruvian, she couldn’t understand more than a few words here and there. “Is it because they’re interested in the hatchling, and you’re holding him?”
Jak hesitated. “Probably.”
“Is there something else?” Jadora watched Malek glower at the guard, who glowered back and shook his head, and suspected they were having a telepathic exchange.
“I… maybe. I’ll tell you later.”
“Before or after we get tossed into the arena to battle giant predators?”
“I don’t think that’s what’s happening.” Jak pointed through the curtained archway. “The man from the wall is in here with some other mages. I can sense them.”
The guard pointed at Jak’s chest again.
Jak eased past Malek. “It’s all right.”
Malek’s expression said it wasn’t, but Jadora didn’t know why.
“I need them to come too,” Jak told the guard, waving at the rest of the group to follow him.
The guard lifted a hand again, but Jak shook his head.
Shikari stood up in his sling and screeched. The guard’s eyebrows flew up. He backed away and didn’t object again when the group followed Jak inside.
“Are they worried that if they don’t treat him well,” Tezi asked, “a mother dragon will show up and eat their city?”
“I’m not sure,” Jak said.
“It would depend on if their barrier is powerful enough to keep dragons out,” Malek said.
Jadora and the others followed Jak up a short shady corridor and into a large room that was open to the arena, only columns and low walls interrupting the view. Jadora stopped and peered out.
Numerous bare-chested humans with axes, swords, and shields were battling not the jungle cat she’d imagined but an animal—magical creature?—more than four times their height. It had a face similar to that of a lion with great tusks as well as long fangs. Its black fur was thicker and shaggier than on any cat she’d seen before, and the tail that whipped about behind it had a barbed tip. Not only did the creature attack with fangs, tusks, and claws, but whenever the men tried to get around to its flanks, it snapped its tail at them, trying to smash them to the sandy floor of the arena.
That sand was stained in spots with blood, and a man in a fringed leather loincloth lay wounded—or dead?—on the ground near the fight. The six remaining warriors leaped in, trying to use teamwork to defeat the great predator with weapons that were ill-suited to the task. Though large, the creature was as fast as any cat, springing about and avoiding their blows while delivering lightning slashes with its claws.
A lone warrior skittered in, managing to stab it in the side as it focused on the others, and the crowd cheered. Rows and rows of seats across from their viewing room were full of spectators waving flags and wooden swords.
Shouts of “Get it!” and “Kill it!” reached Jadora’s ears amid many other words she couldn’t decipher. Money was mentioned several times, so she assumed people had bets riding on the outcome. Some of the spectators were cheering for the creature. That was chilling.
All of the gladiators in the arena wore the now-familiar discs at their temples, but most of the spectators did as well, so Jadora didn’t know what to think of them. But she had a hunch they controlled the population, those without magical power. Lesser beings.
She hadn’t truly expected to find allies here that could help her and Jak change the world back home, but finding more terrene human beings oppressed—and possibly being sacrificed for entertainment purposes—by mages depressed her.
A man spoke from a handful of occupied plush seats in the room. He pointed out at the battle and made what sounded like an acerbic comment. Servants stood near the seats with trays of drinks and food but watched those they attended to rather than the battle.
The gray-haired man in the black tunic and square medallion was among the spectators. He waved toward Jak, beckoning him over.
Two other mages sat in the comfortable seats with him while a man in trousers, shirt, and jacket, similar to what Jadora and her archaeologist colleagues wore on digs, leaned against a wall, his arms crossed as he regarded them. He also wore a hat, not that different from Jak’s, and had a strong jaw with a beard shadow.
Jadora stumbled slightly before catching herself. Something about his face, about the wry twist to his lips, and about his stance reminded her of her late husband. Achingly so. He looked like exactly the kind of person Loran would have traveled with, risking the ire of natives and ancient booby traps to extract some groundbreaking find from a forgotten pyramid or temple.
A pang of longing filled her. Being here and exploring a strange world without Loran felt so wrong, and the craziness of the past weeks made her miss him anew, made her miss having someone to hug her and comfort her and make jokes to lighten her mood. Everything had been so desolate, so without hope of late, that she longed for that.
The man met her eyes briefly as he checked out the group, but there was no recognition there. Not that she would have expected it. These people were all strangers, even if he seemed to fit in more with her world than this one.
Though he’d waved them over, the man in black didn’t speak or pay much attention to them until after the battle. Unfortunately, the gladiators did not get the best of the great predator. Though it bled from numerous wounds, it was the victor in the end. It lay down on all fours, preparing to eat one of the fallen men, and Jadora’s stomach turned. She couldn’t believe these people wanted to watch that.
A whistle sounded, and six men trotted out in white tunics and sandals with nothing but staffs for weapons. She thought that suicidal until she realized they were mages.
When the creature rose and sprang at them, it struck an invisible barrier. They pointed their staffs at it—were the tips made from dragon steel?—and blasted it with energy attacks. It slunk away from them.
They walked past the fallen men—most dead but a few only wounded and still groaning—and herded it toward a raised portcullis at one end of the arena.
“Are you all right?” Malek asked quietly, coming up to Jadora’s side.
“Other than being disturbed by people being entertained by watching humans being killed, delightful.” Jadora checked on Jak, relieved that his face was ashen and that he hadn’t enjoyed the spectacle. Not that she’d thought he would.
Malek glanced at the man in the hat. He stood in the same position, leaning against the wall and watching the hatchling, and didn’t look over at them.
“You seemed to recognize him,” Malek said.
“No. He just reminds me of… someone.” Jadora didn’t know why she was vague when he could read her thoughts.
“Ah.” Malek looked like he might comment further on what he’d doubtless seen in her mind, but he changed the subject. “I had the sense that you can understand some of the language.”
“A little bit. It’s not the same, but it’s similar to Ancient Zeruvian. I’m able to understand a word here and there.”
Jadora thought of the phrase engraved in Ancient Zeruvian on the bottom of their portal, gateway to the stars. She’d always believed those words had been added after the dragons originally created the artifact, but she hadn’t known how that could have happened. She still didn’t know how, but now that she’d seen evidence that someone else had somehow manipulated the dragon steel of their portal, it was less flummoxing.
“Interesting,” Malek said.
I am Ambassador Rajesk. The man in black rose to face them, speaking aloud in his native tongue as he shared their meaning telepathically in Jadora’s mind. Perhaps in all of their minds. It is my privilege to interact with visitors from other worlds.
Rajesk smiled at them and let his gaze linger on the hatchling. His eyes were calculating, and the smile didn’t seem sincere. Earlier, it had sounded like strangers weren’t welcome.
Jadora, realizing this might be an opportunity for her to better grasp the language, since he was essentially translating what he said into her mind, vowed to pay close attention to the spoken words.
“I am Zidarr Malek, representative of King Uthari.” Malek presumably shared his message telepathically as well.
Rajesk glanced at him but focused on Jak. Who are you and how came you by a dragon hatchling? This is one of the elder dragons.
“If he thinks that’s an elder dragon,” Tinder whispered, “he’s not that observant.”
The elder dragons were all believed to be extinct, Rajesk added, ignoring her.
“Extinct?” Jak whispered, anguish filling his eyes.
If the elder dragons were the ones that Jak had been calling the good dragons, Jadora could understand her son’s distress. And if all but this hatchling, and possibly the unhatched eggs still back in that glacier, were gone, then that didn’t bode well for finding dragon allies.
As I’m sure you’re aware, the younger dragons are cruel and prey on humans, Rajesk continued.
“We’ve met one, yes,” Malek said.
Rajesk frowned at him, then looked back to Jak. Why do you let your bodyguard speak for you?
Malek’s eyebrows flew up.
And carry your key? Rajesk opened what Jadora had assumed was a solid square medallion hanging around his neck, but it turned out to be a case. From it, he withdrew a familiar round medallion with a dragon head on one side. It was identical to the medallion Jak had worn in his hat for five years, except this one had never been plated in gold.
“Uhm.” Jak extended his hand toward Malek. “He’s… more of an advisor than a simple bodyguard.”
Malek opened his mouth, as if he might object, but he closed it and smoothed his features into a mask.
“What is going on?” Tinder whispered to Fret, who only shrugged back.
Malek might be willing to go along with Jak, but Rivlen was another matter. Indignation flared in her eyes, and she stepped forward.
“Zidarr Malek is our leader. He is—” She halted abruptly and looked at Malek.
He must have stopped her telepathically.
“Chief among those who advise Jak,” Malek told the ambassador.
Hm. Rajesk eyed Rivlen. She’d stopped, but her eyes were still burning with indignation. Rajesk also looked over at Jadora, Tezi, Fret, and Tinder before turning back to Jak. You travel with many female servants. I suppose this is because you are young. It is not uncommon for youths to be libidinous.
“Servants!” Rivlen exclaimed.
Malek shot her a warning look.
Rivlen clenched her jaw and didn’t say more but glared daggers at the ambassador and Jak. As if he were responsible for any of this.
“Er, yes,” Jak said. “I can barely contain my urges. You said back at the wall that I could ask you some questions, didn’t you?”
You have not answered any of my questions yet. Rajesk offered the insincere smile again. Where did you find that hatchling?
“I assumed we would start with simpler questions. Like what’s my favorite food and if I’m enjoying your world and the… festivities here.” Jak grimaced toward the arena.
The creature had been forced out, the portcullis dropped, and some attendants were dragging the bodies out while others brought in wheelbarrows of fresh sand to dump over the unsightly bloodstains.
We care little for the opinions of outsiders, nor are your food preferences a concern. The elder dragons are extinct. Where did you find that hatchling? That egg. You must have found an egg? Rajesk looked at the man in the hat for the first time. We’ve suspected the elder dragons may have hidden some of their kind away, maybe even eggs, using magic to preserve them until such a time when it would be safe for them to return, but there’s been little evidence. Isn’t that true, Zethron? In your explorations, you’ve never confirmed such tales, have you?
