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14

CHANGE OF PLAN

T earloch slammed his half-full cup into the wall and cursed himself for all the time he’d wasted in the blasted canyon. He’d missed Huxor by minutes. “Mere minutes!” The bastard had traded the flying steed and escaped Sunbasin on dragonback. No one knew the direction or destination. He was just gone. Lost. “Fates be damned!”

He wished the blue dragon would appear and get it over with. That way, he wouldn’t have to go outside and face his friends with bad news…

He paid the cowering informant and forced himself to put one foot in front of the other. After stepping into the street, he was forced back again by a stranger’s arm, warning him out of the way as a procession of sorts passed by. Four foreboding, well-armed mercenaries in black escorted a beauty with white hair, dressed in shades of purple and capped with a jewel-encrusted crown.

Despite the well-lit space, her eyes were hidden in the shadows of her hood. But then her head tipped forward when she glanced down to check her step and lift her skirts. Her blackened eyelashes rested on familiar cheeks.

Asper!

She never glanced his way as her escorts marched her quickly along. Following on her heels, along with a curious mob, were Minkin, Sweetie, and the brothers.

Minkin pointed ahead and mouthed, “Asper.”

Tearloch nodded and fell into step beside Sweetie, and they exchanged a look.

“You don’t suppose she lied about who she was? A simple apprentice who’s lived her entire life in Redstone Canyon?”

Tearloch snorted. “Obviously.”

“It’s no wonder she didn’t need us.”

“That satchel must have been full of jewels.”

“No,” Minkin said. “Just dragonspice. And memory leaves.”

“Are they so valuable then?”

Minkin grinned. “Maybe we should have asked.” After a moment, she added. “In fact, she might be just what she claimed. A woman with a book. A very informative book.”

For some reason, Tearloch preferred to believe Asper had lied about everything. To think otherwise tightened his chest and affected his breathing.

The mob thinned the longer the procession continued toward the east side of the city. Their destination was obvious.

* * *

There were no onlookers left, besides Tearloch and his friends, when Asper and her escorts finally reached the gates of the drakehouse, where the city’s dragons were stabled. The grounds were surrounded by a massive earthen wall much like the one being built around Sunbasin. The thirty-foot high, dull iron gates held tight as the party neared. The guards standing before them took one look at Asper and came to attention, but they held their position, and the company halted.

Asper’s tallest escort stepped forward, nodded to one guard, then moved close for a private word. When he stepped back, the gatekeepers signaled to the others on the wall and the gates creaked open wide enough for Asper and her black-clad mercenaries to file through. They quickly shut on the last man’s heels.

Tearloch’s stomach jumped at the prospect of her leaving him with so many questions. Without thought, he stepped forward and shouted, “My lady!”

Asper stopped and turned, then stepped to the side so she could see past her entourage. Her face brightened for a heartbeat before she sobered.

The tall guard followed her gaze. “My lady?”

She took a deep breath, nodded once, and waved to the gatekeeper. “Allow my servants through, good sir. I couldn’t possibly leave them behind at a time like this.”

Her guards were displeased. The gatekeepers made no move to obey her. After a long-drawn moment, she returned to the gate. “Good sir, these people saved my life when I might have burned in a fire. I owe them more than just transportation to Ristat.”

Both men stubbornly lifted their chins. Tearloch nudged Minkin, but her assistance was unnecessary. Asper reached through the gate and rested her hand on one man’s forearm and his shoulders soon fell. He nodded to his companion, then motioned to those on the wall. The gates opened a second time and Tearloch hurried his friends through. Once inside, he glanced back to find the one man still staring at the spot Asper had touched.

By the Fates, who is she?

They entered the building through a small door and surprised a lone dragon rider—marked by his red and black cloak. After a quick word with the head of Asper’s guard, he led them deeper into the drakehouse with archways as large as the outer gates. It was hard to imagine there were dragons too large to fit through them, but it was true. The capital city still had a few of the oldest and largest that had ever lived.

The party was led to a rotund man who sat in a cage the size of a wagon turned on its end. Tearloch couldn’t imagine it would be much of a deterrence against an angry or hungry dragon. But perhaps he was being punished.

The officious man in question sat at a narrow desk, scribbling on a wide ledger. He looked up, then tried and failed to hide his surprise at the sight of Asper in her regal state. Awkwardly, he got to his feet, offered a shallow bow, then seated himself again. He couldn’t be bothered to look her in the eye.

“Royalty in Sunbasin? I was certainly unaware.” He spoke with only one side of his mouth and his tone proved he didn’t believe it in the least.

Tearloch moved closer so he could hear the interaction. Though he couldn’t see Asper’s face, he could hear the smile in her voice.

“Good sir,” she said. “In times like these, I see no more need for discretion.”

The dragon rider cleared his throat. “Sir. Miss Edeen insists that this lady and her entourage be taken to the palace in Ristat at once.”

The big man chuckled. “ Miss Edeen has business with her ?”

The tall guard in black bent at the waist to peer into the cage. “Not your place to question, Farlton.”

Again, the big man’s eyes flew wide and beads of sweat squeezed onto his swollen forehead. “Didn’t…didn’t see you there, Morrow. Beg your pardon. No offense meant.” To the dragon rider, he barked. “Don’t just stand there! Take them back! Choose the fastest, most rested dragon!”

“But sir, the stables are empty tonight,” the rider said, “what with the patrols doubled and the…the deserters.”

“You have Old Grim?”

“Aye…aye, sir, but?—”

“He must suffice. Fly him yourself. Do not fail me, Nogel.” The big man leaned forward to look up through his cage at Morrow. “Give Miss Edeen my regards, sir.”

* * *

I thought I’d left them all behind—thought I’d left Tearloch behind. And now, there were so many emotions coming and going through my body, I couldn’t think clearly. Of course, on the outside, I looked like a calm and cool-headed princess.

I couldn’t imagine why I thought dragons would be magical. After all, they were beasts that functioned like any other, and for that reason, the drakehouse smelled to the moons. But as we were led through the cavernous, weakly lit building, I saw no sign of dragons or men to fly them. Had the desertions included beasts too, or just the people who were tasked with cleaning the place?

“The drakehouse is housing for the Guardian Riders,” Nogel explained as we passed under yet another tall archway and into the open, where we were greeted by a rush of cool, clean air. The back of the building was open to the elements, as if cut in half, or maybe destroyed by a dragon’s tantrum. “The dragons nest in there.” The dragon rider gestured to a vast black crack in the ground, blacker than the moonless night.

I watched closely, peering through the darkness, expecting a huge creature to emerge at any second. Then I remembered the dragons were gone, all but one. So I wandered to the edge to take a look and Dower suddenly appeared at my side. For a brief second, I worried he might want to give me a shove.

"Not too close, milady," he said, reaching out a hand as if he would catch me if I tried to jump.

I laughed. "I do not wish for death, sir."

“And you mustn’t call me sir. We must keep up appearances, yes?"

I dipped my chin. "For now."

He stepped back, inclined his head, and walked away with a slight smirk like he’d tricked me into giving away more than I’d intended. For some reason, I was still the enemy, though I had hoped his opinion had changed when we last parted. He obviously had worried I was a real princess and needed to alleviate that worry.

And now he had proven me a liar, at least in deed.

Nogel rang a small bell and a skylith appeared—a small, dragon-like beast the size of Minkin but with wings. Since the Athrú Ash , they’d been used for carrying messages across Hestia. Demius said they had frightening speed.

“Old Grim,” Nogel said, as if the skylith understood completely. “Go.”

Both dragon rider and skylith left us standing on that ledge for a long while. Tearloch and his friends eyed my escorts who eyed them back. No one spoke, everyone playing their part, with no reason to give anything away.

To Morrow, the others were servants who dared to request passage to Ristat. To the others, Morrow and his men were either being duped or else I’d lied to everyone, including Dower, and I truly was royalty.

Shouts went up and all attention turned back to the great pit from which a dragon rose with Nogel on its back.

At least it resembled a dragon…

Grim indeed.

It flew in a circle over our heads, then wobbled awkwardly in the air as it descended onto the flat expanse before us. I saw at least half a dozen holes in its wings and a few on its body where its skin had grown thin. On closer look, its flesh was half a dozen shades of grey, and its eyes shone with either madness or excitement. I couldn't say which.

Nogel climbed down and faced us with a grin. "Not bad at all."

Tearloch looked doubtful, but he said nothing. Sweetie folded his arms and scowled at the young man as if his intimidation could somehow result in the appearance of a higher quality dragon.

I returned Nogel's smile. "Grim will do nicely," I said with all confidence. After all, if I were truly royalty, I would have ridden on all manner of dragons in my lifetime. "My company may need a bit of instruction," I added. "Some may have never ridden before."

Nogel nodded and lifted his voice for the others. "They are bringing a seat that will attach to the dragon's neck and back. I realize it's warm here in the south, but you will want a nightcoat when we hit cooler climes. Collect one from the wall there, and a rig from the tack barrel. Put the rig around your waist now. Once aboard, you'll use it to lock onto your seat. Then hold tight. Don't panic. And whatever you do, don't dig in with your heels. He's too old for that nonsense."

"How long will the ride take?" Minkin looked nervous.

Nogel shrugged. "With Grim, we'll need to stop a few times along the way. But we should arrive at the palace just after dawn. A younger dragon could do it in half the time, of course, but even if we waited for one to return, it would need rest first. And even then, I'm not sure the rider would consent."

"We are grateful," I assured him.

Nogel blushed, then puffed out his chest and barked at the half-dozen men carrying a twenty-foot, spine-like structure that had to be our seat. Metal, hinged, and far too delicate to keep Sweetie in place, but again, I had to trust Nogel to know what he was doing. Grim, I noticed, had sized up our motley band, and hadn't balked.

Did he realize we would all be climbing on his back? Was he sentient enough to know what was happening or where he was going?

I had read that dragons, long ago, could communicate with a personally chosen rider. The DeNoy, who were bonded to their magical creatures, could speak telepathically. And there were histories, recorded, of actual speeches given by ancient and famous dragons. But was that all myth? Could current-day dragons speak? Could they reason? Or had it been bred out of them after so many millennia?

Morrow helped me don a nightcoat—a heavy, black cloth contraption that no wind could penetrate. It was long enough in front to cover my thighs and closed firmly with buckles all the way to my chin. Then he attached a rig around my waist before seeing to his own.

Though the dragon's head swung my way, I kept walking, kept pretending that I was someone important who had dealt with dragons often. Nogel's outstretched arm stopped me, however, and we both waited while Old Grim lowered his head in some sort of acknowledgement of who was about to ride on his back. For the mere impression of being important, I inclined my head and gave the dragon a smile of thanks, whether or not he would understand.

When the giant head swung away again, I glanced to the side and noticed a number of mouths hanging open, one of which belonged to Tearloch, and I stifled a laugh. Any more such displays and he would start believing I truly was some member of the royal household who had been hiding in Redstone Canyon. The more fool he.

One of the guards brought my satchel to me so I could place my circlet of jewels inside. He promised to keep them safe.

When the saddle was fastened in place—an undertaking that looked painful for the dragon—Nogel motioned me forward and offered his hand for balance. He pointed out where to step and helped me up to the dragon's shoulders. "Best if you sit just behind me, my lady. I can give you some warning of the turns and such."

He helped me connect my thick leather rigging to the seat, then went to check on the others. After jockeying with Sweetie, Tearloch ended up sitting just behind Minkin, who sat just behind me. Sweetie, the brothers, and the guards took up the rear.

I was supremely aware of Tearloch and his immediacy. I was still hurt by his lack of trust, but I couldn’t deny that I was pleased not to be on my own with only Lady Edeen’s men for company. His presence helped me keep a calm facade, for the sake of my pride, though I was absolutely terrified.

Unexpectedly, the dragon shifted, and my seat with it. It happened so suddenly I couldn't stop a scream from escaping my lips. Immediately, a black gloved hand clamped around my upper arm, holding me in place.

"Easy now." Tearloch's voice was deep, soothing, and I wondered if he meant the words for me, for Minkin, or for Old Grim. In any case, the dragon settled, as did my heart, and the hand disappeared.

"Don't worry," Minkin said quietly. "We'll all hold tight, yes?”

I nodded and forced my grip on the saddle to ease, otherwise, none would believe I'd ever ridden dragonback before.

All thoughts of Tearloch fled when the dragon's neck and shoulders lifted in the air. The distance between myself and the ground was suddenly unbearable to watch, and I sealed my eyes shut. Nogel's body before me seemed much more substantial than the dainty metal seat and I reached out and caught his uniform at his sides. I both felt and heard his chuckle.

"All he's done is stand, my lady. We're not off the ground yet."

"I...I'm not fond of riding," I said. "I never get used to it."

He patted one of my hands. "Happy to oblige. But never fear. Old Grim knows he's got someone important now. He'll be gentle as he can."

When the beast began loping toward the edge of the canyon, threatening to jar us all loose, I swallowed back another scream and promised myself I'd let it out again as soon as I found myself alone on solid ground. But for now, I had to pretend. I had to pretend and keep on pretending until I found Moire...