Draka

I watched the Crane run until I was sure that he’d keep going. The rain came down in sheets, but I didn’t care. I made a canopy of my wings to keep the worst off as I approached the bags, circling them, sniffing them, savoring the moment. I had a flash of disappointment when I smelled silver — how insane was that? I was disappointed to smell silver! — but the gold was there as well. I’d just have to be content with what I had. For the moment, at least.

I took one of the bags and hefted it. The leather was thick, but I could feel the shape of the contents. All coins. Forty pounds or thereabouts. Even if it was all silver it was a tidy fortune. With gold mixed in it could be comparable to, or even more than, what Tam and Val had brought back from Tavvanar. And now it was mine. If not for the fact that I would have a hard time closing them back up I would have opened one of the bags right there.

The patrol of Wolves reached me while I was listening to the coins jingle, but I didn’t pay them much mind until the woman I’d tagged as their captain cleared her throat. She’d approached as her soldiers held back, and spoke loudly above the rain, with a tremble to her voice and a Tavvanarian accent that I hadn’t noticed before. “Ahem. My, ah… My good dragon? I’m sorry, I don’t know how to address you. I am with the Grey Wolves mercenary company, currently in the service of the city of Karakan, and I would like to ask you some questions. If I may.”

“Draka,” I said absentmindedly. “Or Lady Dragon. Madam would do, too.”

“Ah. Lady Dragon, then. May I ask you what just happened here?”

I put the bag I was holding on top of the others, and looked up for the first time since she spoke to me. She’d left her horse with the patrol, and stood fifteen feet away wearing a heavy raincoat, for all the good it did her. The wind drove rain into her face, and she had hair plastered across her forehead as water dripped from her nose. She must have been miserable.

Seeing her made me aware of how awful it would be to fly back to my hoard if it didn’t let up. It was enough to make me stay and talk to this captain instead of just going home.

“I already told you. The White Cranes turned traitor.” I gestured to the dead man and the horses with my head. “I’ve punished them. Their commander is dead.”

Her face went slack. “Commander Larallan’s dead!?”

“So they said.”

She swallowed and nodded. “I— I see, but why? Are the rumors true? Have you been working with Commander Rallon this whole time?”

“If I have been, and the commander hasn’t told everyone, don’t you think that there’s a good reason for that? And come here if we’re going to talk, would you?” I rustled my wings, sending water spraying every which way. “It’s not perfect, but it’ll keep you from having to wipe your face all the time.”

She looked at me hesitantly, then took one slow step towards me, then another and another until she stood barely two feet away, trembling with cold and fear as I looked down on her. This close, standing still and without the veil of rain between us, I finally got a good look at her. She must have had some Barlean blood in her, or some other people with similar features. She wore her fear openly on a heart-shaped face with wide green eyes, the light brown hair that stuck out from under her helmet still plastered to her forehead.

My opinion of the Grey Wolves had always been fairly high, but she raised it another small notch. She was as afraid of me as anyone. She didn’t even pretend otherwise, but she’d approached me to speak anyway, and came closer when I invited her. She wasn’t fearless by any means, but she controlled it well. I respected that.

“Listen, Captain. Is that right? Captain?”

This close to me her voice had a slight squeak to it. “Yeah!”

“What’s your name?”

“My name?”

“Your name. I’d like to know who I’m talking to.”

“My name. I’m, ah— my name is Melleti, Lady Dragon. A pleasure to meet you?” Her voice creaked at the end, turning the statement into a question to which she desperately hoped that the answer was “Yes.”

“Same. Listen, Captain Melleti. I have some human friends who are very, very important to me. And through them, I have some friends among the Wolves. I want my friends to be safe, and I also don’t want to see the good people of Karakan suffer unnecessarily. So, sometimes, my interests and those of the Wolves have been the same, and I’ve cooperated with Commander Rallon. We’ve done some good together. Does that answer your question?”

“Uh, yeah. I mean yes, Lady Dragon! Thank you. And the White Cranes? Did they really…?”

“They attacked the Palace. Tried to kill Rallon and the Council in their homes. Rallon’s alive, but I don’t know about the others. They did kill and maim who knows how many Wolves and city guards. They hurt my friends.” The last came out as a growl.

Meletti took a half-step backwards, but recovered. Her face was stricken. “You’re sure you don’t know how many Wolves were killed? Can you guess?”

I shook my head. “My friend said that she didn’t think there were more than a dozen Wolves alive in the city. Most of them were at Her Grace’s Favor when I left. Do you know where that is?”

“It’s that inn Lalia and Garal like, yeah,” she half-whispered. “Mercies be kind. Only a dozen… And you killed Young Lord Larallan?”

“That’s what they said.” I looked at the bag of meat and bone that lay only a few feet away. The rock had torn out or flattened most of the grass, and the dirt and blood were turning into a dark red mud in the rain. “‘Young Lord,’ huh? That’s not him, then?”

“‘Young Lord’ doesn’t indicate age, it’s just…” she trailed off as she followed my gaze. After a second she retched a little. She quickly looked away and swallowed hard, then spat on the ground. “No, that’s not him. Larallan was taller. More hair.”

“Less flat?”

“Less flat,” she confirmed with a shudder. She looked again, then past the corpse. “So that’s what the rock was for. We wondered.”

“Yeah. Worked wonders. I really should have tried it earlier. Damn bears…” I looked at her. Her eyes had frozen on the body, and I waved a hand in front of her face to get her attention. “You should get back to the city, Captain Meletti. I’ve no doubt that your company needs you. And if you see any other patrols on the way I suggest you tell them the same.”

“Yeah.” Her eyes strayed down to the bags piled in front of me. “And those? What are those?”

“Mine!” I snapped, stepping over the bags so they were safe beneath me. The pains in my back and side spiked, making me grimace. It happened without a moment’s thought, and this time Meletti jerked back from me. Beyond her I saw her patrol loosen their swords and ready their bows and lances, then relax when nothing else happened. I adjusted my wings to keep her sheltered, and forced myself to release the sudden burst of jealousy and suspicion that her innocent question had set off. “I took them from the Cranes,” I said, more calmly. “And I’m keeping them as compensation for my trouble.”

“All right, yeah, yeah, no problem,” she agreed quickly, backing into the rain. “That’s all, Lady Dragon. Draka, was it? Lady Draka? Thank you for your time, and for the information, and it was a pleasure meeting you! Good day!”

“Good day, Captain Meletti,” I said, as she speed-walked away from me. I decided I should put in a good word for her the next time I met Rallon; the amount of fear that she’d fought through to talk to me had been truly impressive.

The Wolves went south. I couldn’t fault them for not doing what I’d suggested; It was obvious where the Cranes had gone, and it made sense to verify what I’d said. For all I knew Meletti hadn’t believed a word I said, and just agreed with everything in case I turned murderous if she didn’t.

With the little pouch in my mouth, and the three larger ones gathered in my arms, I looked up at the pouring rain and sighed. I opened up the canopy I’d made of my wings and immediately regretted it, then took to the sky. I took a long, low turn to the south; the Wolves were still on the move, and other than a few stragglers the Cranes were all on or by the ships. No one was running, which was vaguely disappointing; I’d wondered if the Wolves would catch up to Jel and the other two, but the other Cranes must have picked up the stragglers.

The bags I carried presented a problem. I wanted to get back to Herald and the others, to convince myself that everyone was okay and to be there for emotional support. But the bags were full of coins, and I needed them to be safe. They’d be safe at the inn, but the inn wasn’t my hoard, and the sheer mass of what I was carrying made me desperate to bring them home. And my hoard had been calling to me as it was, that itch to get back and check on it that I always felt when I was away for too long.

In the end my family won out. My hoard would be fine for a few hours longer. And as long as I kept the bags with me they’d be as safe as they possibly could.

The flight back to the city was as miserable as I’d expected. My whole left side was a mess of aches and pains. Every beat of my wings brought with it a little stab that then bloomed across my side, making me wonder if I had a busted rib. On top of that the rain didn’t let up, getting in my nose, blurring my sight as it ran over the protective membranes covering my eyes, and finding its way under my scales with no chance of drying out.

I considered just going above the clouds. It would have been so nice to get out of the rain for a while, and I was confident that I’d be able to stay on course despite the clouds reaching from horizon to horizon in every direction. But I felt a vague sense of responsibility to the Wolves, and I wanted to keep my eyes open for patrols so that I could tell them about what had happened during the night. And so I flew in the rain.

I stayed low — the rain cut the visibility to almost nothing anyway — and I followed small country roads back to the large southern road that ran from Karakan all the way to the bridge into Happar. It didn’t do me any good. There were some few unfortunate souls out, but no large groups of horsemen.

It’s the thought that counts, I told myself, over and over. It’s the thought that counts.

I passed over the gate, the guards on the walls ducking as I came even though I was a hundred feet above them. I landed in the yard behind the Favor and Shifted, the bags hitting the ground with a heavy, metallic rustle. It was the best I’d been able to think of. I couldn’t leave my new treasure somewhere while I made my way carefully to the inn, but I didn’t want to sit there, fully visible, while I waited. In my shadow form I wasn’t holding the bags, but good luck to anyone who tried to take them from me.

On the opposite side of the yard, the side where you could go around the side of the building and into the street, bodies lay in rows. It seemed no one had the time to take them away, or even cover them. They lay bare to the sky, the rain washing away the blood and spattering on waxen faces and glassy eyes. I had a powerful urge to look closer, but that would have meant leaving the bags unattended, and so I stayed where I was.

Sitting in the heavy rain like that was even worse than flying in it. Mercifully I didn’t have to wait long before the cellar door opened and Mak stuck her head out. She quickly found me in the corner where I sat, and must have understood the problem perfectly. She sprinted through to my side, the mud splatting under her feet. “It’s clear!” she whispered. “Come on, get inside!”

She grabbed the pouch and the bags, gathering them in her arms, and to my relief I didn’t feel the least bit of anger or possessiveness when she ran back towards the inn. It reminded me of the first time I showed Herald my shadow magic. We’d been traveling through the hills in the south, on our way to find her — now our — family. I’d Shifted and dropped a pouch full of silver eagles, and when she’d picked it up for me I hadn’t been worried at all. Instinct, or “the dragon” as I’d thought of her then, hadn’t objected at all. Herald was safe. She could be trusted. And now, here, so could Mak. Forget her mistakes; they were in the past. She was my sister, and we were bound together, and I knew in my bones that I would trust her with anything precious to me. Nothing could prove that so effectively as the fact that I was calmly following her as she ran away from me with over a hundred pounds of my gold and silver in her arms.

When I entered the cellar Herald stood at the foot of the stairs. “Oh, thank the Mercies,” she said, crashing into me and wrapping her arms around my neck when I materialized. “Where did you go? Why were you gone so long? Mak thought that you were fighting!”

“Yeah, I was. I went after the Cranes.” I felt bad about making her worry, but I wasn’t going to hide anything from her. “Which reminds me. Mak, could you take a look at my wing, and the cut on my back? And also, like, my whole left side. I got rammed by a horse.”

I stretched my wing so they could see where an arrow had pierced it. They fussed over me for a bit, with Mak healing my cuts first, then spending whatever she had left on my side, soothing my pains. Her healing me seemed to soothe Herald, too. Maybe seeing me go from hurt to whole helped, after the awful night she and everyone else just had.

And it had been awful. Truly awful. I understood that fully as they told me what had happened. The first they’d heard of it had been Med practically kicking the door down and shouting for Rib and Pot, telling anyone who’d listen that the Cranes had tried to storm Rallon’s estate in the city. They’d failed, barely, but only because Med and Boot and some others had gone there to plan patrol routes, and ended up staying in the guest rooms.

“Boot did not make it out.” Herald sighed and sank down the wall onto the bench beneath her. “He died holding a hallway while the others formed up. They lost a couple more that I did not know, but they fought their way out and made it to the city guard’s headquarters. And about when Med finished telling us that was when the others arrived.”

Med had arrived breathless and absolutely livid, barely able to get his story out as he waited for the Terriallons to get their gear on. The other Wolves arrived in the middle of a running battle. The clatter of hooves and the screams of men and women fighting and dying as they rode down the streets had brought some of Ardek’s minions running, and it was a good thing they did. Thanks to them, my family, the Terriallons, and half their guests had been armed and ready when the fighting reached them.

“The wounded came first,” Mak said. “Some of them were barely in their saddles. Really woke the guards that the lady justice sent. So we started getting the wounded inside, but then the rest charged into the square, and we were in the middle of a small battle. It was a fucking mess, honestly. It’s lucky most of the people who stay here know a Wolf or two, and the Cranes never had the best reputation, so at least we didn’t have to fight our own damn guests. Hell, Yana and her group even joined in the fighting once the Cranes bashed the door in. Turned the fight in our favor.”

The name sounded familiar. “That’s the woman with the hair, yeah?” I interrupted.

“Right. Anyway, Jor — that’s the big guy with the beard and the bow — he took a spear in the gut. Kira got to him almost immediately, though. He’s gonna be fine. But the Wolves who didn’t make it inside didn’t stand a chance, and a bunch of the guards got killed once they got involved.” Mak had sat down next to Herald. Now she slowly pitched over until her head was in her sister’s lap. Her eyes fluttered close, and she whispered, “A gods-damned mess.”

“And you?”

“Cuts and bruises,” Herald said when Mak didn’t answer. “Some pretty bad cuts and bruises, to be honest, but nothing potions and magic cannot fix. Just… tired. So damned tired. And I was not even healing.”

She gestured down with her head and stroked Mak’s hair. Our sister was already asleep on her lap.

“She woke when we felt you coming,” Herald whispered. “I told her not to get up, but she insisted.”

“I wish she wouldn’t. She needs more rest.”

“She does. But… you know. You are important to her.”

“Yeah. What about Kira?”

“Sleeping. She has been wringing herself out healing all night, but Barro found that healer I mentioned, and he has taken over caring for the few people who were not already stable when Kira collapsed. He may ask for some kind of payment, but I have no doubt the guard will take care of it. Most of the wounded are guards, after all.”

She paused for a second, then asked, almost coyly, “So, what is in those bags? Something important, I assume, with the way you are brooding over them.”

The wet leather bags lay on the floor where Mak had left them, and I had, without thinking of it, moved so that I lay with my arms around them. I grinned at her. She kept a straight face for a few seconds, before a smile of pure, unguarded avarice slowly split her face. She knew very well what was in the bags, and she didn’t ask where they came from. All she said was, “Can we open them?”

I thought about it. I’d intended to just take everything back to my hoard and tear the bags open there, but the idea of seeing it all now was tempting. A carpet of coins, clinking and tinkling as they spread out on the floor, glimmering in the light of the lamp that hung from the ceiling…

“Aren’t you tired?” I said, swallowing thickly.

Herald turned her grin on me. She knew that she had me. “Not too tired for this! Come on. I need something to cheer me up after the night I have had.”

I took one of the bags. With hands shaking from excitement I carefully fiddled with the knot on the cord. The wet leather resisted me for more than the five seconds that my patience lasted.

Having tried and failed, I simply tore the cord with a claw, and upended the bag on the floor.