Draka

We rested for a while, but once Kira looked strong enough for the walk to the city I got up, careful not to put too much weight on the healing leg.

“Alright,” I said to them both once I had their attention. “I will make my way in on my own. Do not ask me how. Trust me, you do not want to know. Keep to the main streets, and I will try to find you.”

“You need to rest!” Kira protested. A plea, not an order.

“I need you two in the city, and I need to go with you and keep you safe,” I countered, and she just gave me a pleading look before looking away, shaking her head.

“Do not worry, Draka,” Herald said. “There is no need for you to take a risk like that. We will make it safely back to the inn without you hovering over us.”

“But the—” I began, but Herald cut me off.

“The Night Blossom does not even know that any of us is out of the city, nor is she stupid enough to try to abduct us or have us killed in the middle of a busy street. If you were so worried you should have waited until night, but you did not, because we both know that it is not necessary. And the archer was after you. Be careful, take it slow, and we will see you at the inn. Go! We will be fine!”

I wanted to protest, but I couldn’t. I knew that she was right. I was the danger magnet, not them. I still snorted and pawed the ground, my claws digging frustrated furrows in the loamy soil as Herald watched me patiently, Kira with worry, until I realized what I was doing and stopped out of sheer embarrassment.

“Are you done?” Herald asked, looking very unimpressed with my little tantrum. When I didn’t answer she continued, in a much gentler tone, “I know that you worry about me, Draka. About all of us. And you have just been hurt. But you can be overly protective, and if you are seen near me… think about that. We may be safer in the long run if you do not follow us on the street. And you can always find me, now, right?”

“I suppose I can, but what if—”

“I have my sword and my dagger, and Kira if anything goes wrong. But nothing will. Again, whoever shot at us today was after you, we all know that.” She sighed. “Think instead about what to do if he got a good look at me, and returns to the city telling tales of a dragon carrying a Tekereteki woman on its back. I know I will.”

Damn. I hadn’t even thought about it that way. They’d hurt me, and they might be a danger to my humans simply by running their mouth! “I’m going to tear that bastard’s lungs out,” I growled.

“We need to figure out who it was first, and who he is here with. I doubt that he is alone. Luckily we just happen to own a very popular adventurers’ inn! Which is where we will meet, if you would just stop worrying about us and get going.”

“You know,” I grumbled, “sometimes I wish that you were a little more obsequious, like Ardek and Mak and…”

“And me,” Kira filled in awkwardly.

“Yeah.”

“No, that would make you miserable,” Herald said happily. “Mak is nearly back to her old self, and you love it, we both know that. You would hate it if no one challenged you. Which is something you should learn, Kira! She really does not mind, as long as you are being thoughtful and reasonable.”

Kira looked at the two of us in doubtful silence, then said, “You really should rest that leg.”

I looked at Herald, the traitor, my closest friend. Helping Kira find her backbone? How could she do this to me?

“Now it is time for us to go. Draka, please, do not follow us around. I will know, and I will be very cross with you. Come on, Kira.”

With that Herald gave me a fond pat on the neck, then put a hand on Kira’s shoulder and led her off in the direction of the road, talking softly about what the other woman should expect.

I hated how right she was. When I forced myself to be reasonable I agreed with almost everything she had said. But in many ways she was still my greatest treasure, my most prized possession, and the urge to watch her, to guard her jealously, to keep her safe from those who might harm or, well, steal her, was strong. Not too strong to overcome, but always there, like a persistent intrusive thought or a song stuck in my head.

With that on my mind I took to the air. I briefly toyed with the idea of letting Instinct take the wheel, of flying back towards the north-west to hunt the pathetic creature that had dared challenge me, to attack me, to threaten the well-being of my Herald, and of a very valuable follower. Oh, such terrible things I would do to them, and anyone unfortunate enough to have been so stupid as to associate with them. I would—

I would wait. I forced myself to believe that. I would be careful, and patient. There was almost no chance of me finding them, except in the form of an arrow or three fired from the forest floor as I flew over. No, I would return to the city, as I had said. I would focus on the Night Blossom, and on keeping my humans safe, and on trying to make Kira feel like her life was at least tolerable.

And then I could do terrible things to the archer. It was important to have something to look forward to, after all.

I flew straight for the coast, keeping my eyes open for sails. Again I felt that pull north, and again I ignored it.

I was heading for the sewer entrance, and I didn't want anyone to see me go in there if I could help it. There were a few ships going up and down the coast. I knew that the waters near the city were well trafficked, and it was full daylight, so I had expected that. It still annoyed me, since it forced a delay.

I landed before I reached the cliffs and crept up to the edge, finding a good place where I could shift and drop over the edge without too much effort. Sneaking around felt like a step backwards, but I knew, rationally, that it was the right approach. To my very positive surprise I found it far less hard to shift than I’d expected. The shadows responded almost eagerly, a dark pillar from one of the few trees along the cliff reaching out and wrapping around me easily despite the afternoon sun and letting me glide smoothly down to the waterline. Not only had my second major advancement let me mess around in some kind of dreamworld, it had made my old, familiar abilities easier to use, and I absolutely loved it! No more headaches!

Of course, knowing myself I’d just find a new, painful limit to push. But, fewer headaches!

I remained Shifted as I moved down the coast, and not only was it less tiring, but I was definitely moving faster than I was used to, as well. It still took over half an hour to cover the two miles or so to the sea cave, but a brisk walking pace or slow jog was much better than anything I had managed before. Hell, along the stones and water of the rough shore I would have never been able to go even that fast by foot, so as far as I was concerned my second major was a great improvement, with or without the dream stuff.

The sewer drain was just as horrible as ever, and I shifted back briefly well away from it to rest for a short while before entering. With my wound I definitely wouldn’t have tried this a few days ago, but with some experience I felt confident in my ability to get through the sewer without shifting back halfway. And I did it! I vaguely remembered the way to enter into the storm water system, and got there a lot more easily than the first time. By then it felt like Herald was somewhere in the city, so in a fit of pique and a need to assert myself, I headed for her. I followed along best I could; the tunnels were mostly straight, but the roads weren’t, and I had to move in a kind of zig-zag pattern to keep up, occasionally squeezing through narrow connecting tunnels. Again I noticed how an aspect of my shadow magic had become a little easier to use, and a little more effective. It took much less effort now to squeeze through the narrowest pipes I’d managed before, despite my body being physically larger than it had been.

I did stay in the tunnels. I had promised, after all. I took it easy, and I kept my weight off the leg best I could. It wasn’t at all that I was worried about making Herald mad or disappointed; I was just very serious about keeping my promises.

I followed along until I felt that Herald and Mak were close to each other. At that point she and Kira were as safe as they could be away from me, and I decided to give them some space. As nice as it might have been to hang out in the cellar, they’d just bought the place, and I was sure that they had plenty of things to sort out.

Besides, I was nowhere near done exploring the tunnels under the city. I’d found a couple of access points to the surface, presumably secret ones, and I wanted to know where they led and who used them, and if there were more. There was also the sea cave I’d found connected to the tunnels, and presumably whoever used that also used at least one of the entrances.

I checked the entrances I’d found, trying to look closely for signs that someone had been through recently, but had no luck. Although they didn’t look abandoned, there was no sign that anyone had been through in the last few days or longer.

I briefly considered breaking open the hatch of the first entrance I’d found, but decided against it. If anyone was there that would definitely alert them, and then they might abandon the place. Until I had a pressing reason to risk that, I’d rather wait and see. Instead I started systematically scouring the tunnels for more entrances. I already knew that would take more than one day, with all the miles and miles of tunnels I had to cover — I could do maybe three miles an hour, stopping to check every intersection and connecting pipe. But it stirred my curiosity and it might be useful in the future, both for myself and my humans. Being able to get around covertly might be a lifesaver one day. Sure, it wouldn’t be a fun experience for someone tall, like Herald, but Mak might actually be able to walk upright, or at least not need to bend so much as to be uncomfortable.

So that was how I spent the rest of my day. Walking up one tunnel, then down another, carefully checking every turn and every nook and cranny in case there was something interesting or useful there. All the while I did my best to keep track of Herald and Mak, and trusting that they and the others were keeping each other safe. They didn’t always stay put, going out twice for short excursions of some kind, but they stayed together in both cases, going to wherever it was, not staying for too long, and then returning to the inn. Despite that I kept fighting an urge to turn back, to return to the inn to check on them, but I fought it down pretty admirably, if I do say so myself.

I was happy with my day’s work — even though I’d only found one new entrance in the hours I’d spent — and was returning to the inn when I heard voices echo through the tunnels. I had meant to return to the humans, but here was an opportunity I couldn’t very well miss.

“Come on, come on, quickly now,” said a hushed voice ahead of me. It sounded like a woman. Her voice was low and a little scratchy, and she was speaking in Barlean.

“Are you sure that you know where you’re going, Auntie?” said a younger-sounding male voice, as soft footsteps echoed down the tunnel. I slowly crept closer to the source of the sound. Up ahead was an intersection, and it sounded like they were coming from the left, which would be… south-west, I thought.

I saw a weak flickering light in the intersection, growing brighter as the steps grew louder. “Do I know… of course I… I am sure, boy, I am sure! Now come on, it’s…”

I crouched the best I could in the cramped tunnel, about fifty feet away from the intersection. Crouching didn’t actually do much since I practically filled the tunnel, but it felt easier to stay still and quiet that way. I could have shifted, of course, but that distorted my senses too much, and I wanted to be able to clearly hear what they said.

Of course, they had to go and make things difficult for me. Two people, crouching under the low ceiling, crept into the intersection. The first was a woman, perhaps in her 40s. She held a torch which she swung left and right, looking nervously in my direction but obviously not seeing me, judging by the lack of screaming. After her came a teenaged boy carrying a large sack. He looked tired and frightened.

“It should be this way, it should be,” the woman said, half to herself, and I barely had time to shift as she started moving my way. I tried to back up and realized, for the first time because I had never tried, that I couldn’t move backwards. As long as I was Shifted it was forward or nothing, and I did the only thing I could think of. I called up the thickest shadow I could, to beat out the light of the woman’s torch, stretched myself to touch them as little as possible, and I surged forward and past them.

The woman yelped and dropped her torch, its flame nearly smothered as I moved. The boy took a single, sharp breath and stood paralyzed. I made it to the intersection and turned around to watch them, and it took several seconds before the woman snatched the torch up with a shaky hand and stood, speechless and turning, looking up and down the tunnel.

“Auntie,” the boy moaned, his voice shaking, “did you feel that? What was that?”

“I don’t know, boy,” she whispered, her eyes wide as she stared into the darkness, almost straight at me. “I don’t know. Nothing. An ill wind. It must have been nothing. But we have to keep on moving. Come, quickly now.”

“Yeah,” the boy agreed. “Let’s get out of here. Let’s get out!”

Now that I had a second, and something to actually look at and listen to, I realized that things were much less distorted than they had been before when I was Shifted. There was still no smell, and thank the Mercies for that because I would have discovered that very quickly as I moved through the sewer. But while everything was still slightly out of focus, and sound was still distorted, it was nothing like I was used to. I could actually see some small level of detail and hear a little of the nuance in their voices, which was fortunate considering how important tone and cadence were in Barlean.

The two started scrambling up the tunnel as fast as they could go, though Auntie stopped at every side tunnel, looking for something, I had no idea what. Meanwhile, I quietly glided along behind them, wondering what the hurry was. Well, not now. Now they were terrified and wanted to get out, but before. I was pretty sure that they were smugglers. They were coming from the harbor, carrying a sack of… something, and while they were decently dressed, that didn’t mean too much. So why the rush?

After half a mile Auntie found what she was looking for. “Here, here!” she said hurriedly and turned into a connecting tunnel, the boy close behind. “Help me, now!”

I followed, and saw the two removing loose stones from the wall, revealing a break like for one of the small chambers. This one was new, though, and I gave a silent thanks to the two Barleans for the help.

“In here. Quickly now, boy, quickly. Then climb the ladder, and open the hatch in the ceiling.”

There wasn’t even a chamber here, just a break in the wall, a narrow tunnel, and then a shaft with a ladder fixed to the wall. I followed only feet behind them, close enough to see the fear and confusion in Auntie’s eyes when she briefly turned around and couldn’t see the end of the short passage she was in. The boy scurried up the ladder easily, still holding on to the bag, and pushed on the hatch. It moved an inch at most, then stopped, and he tried harder but nothing happened.

“It’s stuck, Auntie! It’s stuck!” he hissed, looking down at the woman.

“Slide it, boy! Slide!” she hissed back. He tried again, and there was a soft scraping noise as the hatch moved aside.

“Depths swallow this…” he grumbled, and there came another scraping sound, “there was another one. And a rug!” Then he disappeared up through the hole.

His Auntie followed, climbing as easily as the boy had even with the torch in one hand. I didn’t even hesitate. I followed them up into a small room containing only a simple bed and a nightstand, slipping through the opening behind her while she blocked the boy’s view of me. I still saw her shudder and look back, but there was nothing to see. She closed both hatches with a jerk, then turned around in the small room, a nostalgic look coming over her.

“This is right, yes, this is right,” she whispered. “The door, gently, now!”

The door had a simple wooden latch. It stuck when the boy lifted it, but he gave it a couple of careful strikes upward with the heel of his hand. On the third the latch jerked into the up position, and the door swung open, smoothly and without even a creak.

The boy crept out, disappearing around the corner, and for about fifteen seconds there was no sound but his soft steps. Then he said, softly but not quite whispering, “There's no one here, Auntie. There’s no one.”

Auntie exhaled heavily and walked out of the small room, relaxing a little for the first time since I’d seen the two.

“Oh, it’s just as I remember it, it is,” she said, her voice thick with the memory of days long gone.

“You really lived here, Auntie?” the boy asked, looking around skeptically. “On land?”

“I did, I did,” she said with a soft laughter that made her sound twenty years younger. “For three years I was lost, I was, never setting foot on ship or boat, only feeling the breeze and the salt from the shore. Unimaginable to you, I know. But I was in love, and that was how long it took to make a sailor of your uncle, it was. But he never sold the house.” She sighed, that brittle mirth in her voice replaced by sadness. “It’s mine now, I suppose it is.”

She sniffed once and wiped quickly at her eyes, then took a key out from a small pouch at her belt. “But that is enough of an old woman’s nostalgia, it is. Come. We have a delivery to make, and a debt to settle, we do!”