Draka

I emptied the bag slowly, mesmerized by what I saw. Forty pounds of metal made a lot of coins, and they rained down onto the stone floor, ringing and tinkling, the light flashing off them as they spun. Most settled into a fair-sized pile. A few bounced and rolled, but the floor was too uneven for any to get far.

All too soon the bag was empty. In vain hope I shook the bag, but nothing more came out. Silence settled over the cellar, only to be broken by a voice whispering, “Again? There’s two more bags. Can you do that again?”

Mak still lay on the bench, but sideways now, looking intently at me and the pile. The falling coins must have woken her.

“Can you?” Herald seconded the request, and in the moment, drunk on the sight before me, I saw no reason not to. I grabbed another bag. This time I didn’t even try to open the knot, and the coins rained down just as prettily as they had moments before.

When that was empty they didn’t need to ask. I poured the third bag as well.

With careful steps, Mak made her way to the pile. She ran her hands through the coins, grabbing handfuls and letting them rain back down. She looked half out of it with fatigue.

“Where’d this all come from?” she asked between handfuls.

“I took them from the Cranes,” I told them with great satisfaction. “Killed that Larrallan guy, whoever he was, along with, I dunno… two dozen others, maybe three? I’d guess this is their company treasury or something.”

“Their operating funds, perhaps,” Herald said, joining us by the pile. “Most of their money will be with a treasure house somewhere, or held directly by the House Larrallan. But this…” she dug her hand into the pile and raised it, palm up, tipping the coins back out, “this is still a fantastic haul.”

That was a hell of an understatement. With forty eagles or eighty dragons to a pound, basic math told me that there must be about five thousand coins in that pile. Granted, most of them were silver, with a much smaller part than I’d hoped being gold. Something like one in five was even brass or bronze, which was a real disappointment. And despite that it was, as Herald said, a fantastic haul.

Once the initial excitement wore off Mak fell asleep again, curled up right there on the floor. This time Herald decided that enough was enough, lifting our unprotesting sister and carrying her up the stairs. She returned some time later, having put Mak properly to bed and collected a few pouches.

“What’s it like up there?” I asked her.

She shook her head. “I am trying to escape from the reality of what the common room looks like. There is not much I can do anyway. Please, let us just focus on this.”

Together we separated the pile by value. I grabbed large handfuls of coins, and Herald deftly picked out the dragons and the peacocks before I dumped the eagles into the leather bags I’d brought them in. When we were done she brought down a set of scales. Rather than counting the peacocks and eagles she simply weighed them. We ended up with just under twenty pounds of peacocks, worth anywhere between fifteen and twenty-five eagles depending on the mintage, and about a hundred pounds of eagles, which would have bought half of Her Grace’s Favor.

The dragons she counted by hand. There were eighty-eight of them, just over a pound of gold, and they all went in one of the leather pouches she’d brought. It was more than I’d received as my share for the old book we’d sold, and the single largest amount of gold I’d ever held.

“Draka,” Herald said in her most serious voice as I shook the pouch. “You know that I love you.”

“I do. Though I appreciate the reminder.”

“And I am so glad to have you back after your trip south. I missed you.”

“Me too.”

“With that in mind, I think that you should go, and bring all this to your hoard as soon as possible.”

“Yeah? What about you? Why not come along?”

“Normally I would love to, but in this rain? No. I would rather not die of the shivers or consumption before we even reach the mountain. Besides, I need to stay here. I need sleep, and there is so much to take care of. But can I ask something of you?”

“Of course. Anything.”

“This is an utterly unreasonable thing to ask of anyone,” she cautioned me.

“Herald. Anything I can do, anything I can give, just ask.”

She pursed her lips and took a deep breath. “When you pass your next threshold — and if my estimations are anywhere close to correct, I think that you will — please take something to keep yourself safe. You keep getting hurt. Mak almost got killed when we took Tarkarran, and again tonight.”

“Wait, what—” I tried to interrupt, but she kept going, taking my head in both hands.

“I cannot lose either of you. Please, Draka. You told me once that you had an option to choose a more powerful version of the Advancement that lets you shrug off most arrows, swords, and other attacks. I beg you. Take it.”

“Is that all?” I said it flippantly, but I knew what a huge request it was. It was like asking someone back home to get a full back tattoo, or to change their career or move countries for you.

In this case, though, I was all too happy to oblige.

“Don’t worry. If I pass a threshold, I’ll take Greater Fortitude. I promise.”

“Thank you. Now, let us get some new cords on those bags so you can—”

“Actually,” I said, cutting her off. “I think I’ll only take the gold.”

“What?” Herald’s relieved tone shifted into a nervous laughter, as though I’d just told her, out of the blue, that I was applying for a spot on the Council or something similarly insane.

“Yeah. I’ll take the gold, and leave the rest here. My contribution to the family funds.”

“But your hoard—” Herald protested.

“No worries, yeah? It’s fine. Let’s put the eagles and the peacocks in the strongroom, and I’ll be off.”

I’d been rolling the thought around my mind for the last few minutes, and found that it didn’t bother me at all. It was the old idea of, “What’s theirs is ours.” I could leave some of my treasure here. They could even spend some of it if they had to, and it wouldn’t bother me as long as it wasn’t frivolous. It would all go to keeping my family comfortable, safe, and happy, and to keeping the inn running, making more money in the long run.

Herald protested weakly a few more times, but I was determined, and she couldn’t convince me otherwise. Finally we did what I wanted. The eagles and peacocks went into the magical lockbox in the strongroom. Then Herald opened the cellar door for me. She offered to bring the pouch to an alley for me, but she was right about the weather. Once I’d thought about it I didn’t want to drag her outside, and I wasn’t worried about being spotted leaving the inn. Visibility was near enough to zero, and anyone watching the inn already knew that I was there, or should know so that they didn’t get any stupid ideas.

“Go on, then!” Herald shouted over the roaring rain as I did my best cat impression, standing before the open door but not making any move to actually leave. “But please! Be back soon!”

“I will!” I promised. “Oh, yeah, before I forget—” I dug the medallion out from where it still sat between my jawbone and my tongue, and held it out to her. “Take this.” I didn't want the homing medallion anywhere near my hoard.

“Draka! Ew!” Herald’s face twisted as she gave me her best “Are you serious?” look. She patted herself, looking for something like a napkin, but lacking pouches and pockets she finally had to just take the thing. “Ech, it’s all slimy!”

“It’s a homing medallion,” I told her. “It has a twin somewhere. Possibly still with the Silver Spurs. They can always find each other. Keep it safe… maybe give it to Kira. She’ll recognize it.”

“Are you not worried that they might follow it here?”

I thought about it, then shook my head. “Nah. They’re not stupid enough for that. Me and their commander, we came to an understanding.”

I looked out into the water thundering down, and then not wanting to look like a wuss, I was off. I climbed as fast as I could to get out of the damned rain, entering the heavy clouds in minutes and breaking through into the morning sun shortly thereafter. The water streamed off of me as I cruised towards home. The peak of my mountain was too low to be visible, but that made no difference. My hoard was a beacon, and it didn’t matter how many miles separated me from it. It was already beneath hundreds or maybe thousands of feet of stone; what difference could a bit of cloud make?

I practically skidded to a stop when I reached the ledge outside my cave. I splashed through the puddles that had formed there, getting my belly wet as I hurried into the shelter of the mountain. I paused only to quickly Shift in and out, water falling onto the floor before I descended.

My hoard was waiting for me, safe and beautiful, and almost as important in the moment, dry. I took a round of the small side chamber where I’d made my nest, Instinct reassuring me that everything was in order, not a single eagle missing. Avjilan’s bow leaned against the pillar where I’d left it. The small box with its handful of golden dragons that I’d taken from a dead healer at the lake camp when I first met Garal stood in its place, slightly higher than everything else; the box itself was worthless and broken, but it was my first treasure, the seed of my hoard, and held a lot of sentimental value for me.

With little ceremony I opened the bag around my neck and poured its contents onto the carpet of coins. Eighty-eight dragons wasn’t a lot of volume, but they made a beautiful addition to the silver that dominated my hoard.

Herald had been right. I wasn’t sure how she’d known, but I shivered with delight as I felt the tingle of a threshold crossed. My choices lay before me, inserted directly into my memory by the magic of this world: Greater Fortitude, to weather all but the mightiest blows; Physical Greatness, to increase the power of my body in all ways, at the cost of needing more food and drifting more towards a draconic way of thinking; Cunning, to plot and see through the schemes of others; Grace, for peerless ease of movement in any element, which I assumed meant that I’d be able to swim like a croc; and a new one, of course: Acid Spit, for foes who resisted or knew to avoid our venom.

They were all interesting. I’d especially been considering Grace for my next minor. It might help with both attacking and defending in a fight, being able to swim properly could potentially be very useful, and anything that let me do some fancy flying sounded like a lot of fun. At the same time, being able to spit acid would have been useful in a lot of fights I’d been in, and it might have uses outside of fighting as well, which my venom didn’t.

“Physical Greatness!” Instinct hissed in my ear. “We must become what we were always meant to!” Because of course she did. Becoming bigger, stronger, and scarier was everything that she desired. But I felt her satisfaction with the one we did take, and which I’d promised Herald.

“Greater Fortitude,” I whispered into the silence, and the changes washed over me.

I was instantly wracked with pain, crashing to the bed of coins as my whole body spasmed. Gods and Mercies, it hurt! My only consolation was that after the initial shock, the burst of fear and adrenaline, I knew what was happening, and why.

It wasn't the effects of the Advancement itself; I could feel it doing something to my skin and muscle and a host of other parts, and a fine black dust rained from me as scales shifted and changed. It was an odd sensation to be sure, itchy and uncomfortable, like every inch of me was peeling after a bad sunburn. But it wasn’t painful. No, what hurt was growth. I’d figured out months ago, and Herald had confirmed with her own eyes, that adding to my hoard made me grow in leaps and bounds. Eighty-eight dragons was not a lot of coins, but over a pound of gold was a hell of a lot of value, and value was what counted. A young laborer in Karakan could retire to raise a family and live the rest of their life in reasonable comfort on that kind of money. And so, as the Advancement took hold, I also felt every bone in my body stretch and widen and whatever else bones did when they grew, forcing all my other tissues to grow with them.

The pain when I’d added my share of the book money had been bad. This was hell. Sheer bloody torture. Worse than a sword through the lung, and I would know. I whined, then groaned, then roared and hissed as I writhed on the carpet of coins, trying to find a position that offered any kind of relief. There was none. What relief can you find when the problem is that your body is temporarily too small for your bones? All I could do was wait, and suffer through it, and wonder why the hell my upgraded fortitude didn’t help.

A horrible thought came to me. Maybe Greater Fortitude was helping. Maybe this was only a fraction of the pain I’d have felt if I’d chosen something else. I would have shuddered if I wasn’t already shaking.

And then it passed, fading out as quickly as it had come on, leaving me panting and hungry on a much scattered carpet of gold and silver.

I took some time to gather everything. It was slow going; I was mildly dazed after my ordeal, and I’d already been so damn tired.

Once I finished and my head cleared somewhat, I made my way back to the cave’s entrance. I was returning to the city immediately. I would have liked to stay with my hoard, to just sleep for a day or two and to check on Jekrie and the others, but things were too unstable in Karakan. I needed to be there. I’d landed in the Forum, for Christ’s sake!

I stood looking out at the rain for some time. It hadn’t let up one bit since it started. If anything it was heavier, fat drops leaping high into the air where they splashed into puddles, water making a partial curtain in front of the cave as it poured down from the mountainside above.

This was going to suck. Again.

Half an hour later I was back in the cellar. This time it was Tam who let me in. He’d been waiting, watching the yard with the cellar door open just a crack. “Herald said you were coming,” he said, massaging his eyes and breaking into a huge yawn. “Begged me to let you in before I tucked myself into bed.”

“You’re a legend, Tam. Thanks.” I Shifted rapidly to get dry, and he blinked up at me.

“Neat trick. Maybe next time you could not bring the water inside in the first place, eh? But, uh, is the ceiling caving in, or are you bigger?”

“I should hope so. Best not have gone through all that pain for nothing.”

He stepped up and took a closer look at me, then reached out, stopping just short of touching me. “Do you mind?”

“Nah, go ahead.”

He ran his fingers over my scales, then tapped or flicked some. “Your scales are different,” he declared. “Not by much, and it’s hard to see with the color, but they are. Did you pass a threshold?”

“I did!” I admitted smugly. “But I’ll tell you about it later. We both need sleep. Do you have people guarding the upstairs?”

“Yeah. Most of Ardek’s people are still around and awake, and some of the guests who already got some sleep have volunteered to stand watch. I guess Herald must have told you already, but it’s a damned sick-house up there.”

“She said, yeah. So don’t worry about me. Get some sleep and take care of everything, and I’ll be here when you can spare some time. Though if you can somehow get hold of a couple pounds of fish or meat sometime soon, that would be brilliant. I’m starving.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” He handed me the strongroom key and turned to go, then turned back and gave me a tired smile. “It’s good to have you back, sister. It was strange, not having you around.”

“Sleep well, bro.” I bopped him lightly on top of the head with my chin.

He left, and I made my way into the strongroom, where I finally passed out after one of the longest nights and mornings of my life.

The day passed slowly. The highlight of my afternoon was when Tam came downstairs with a large box, the wood stained dark by rain.

“Thank Ardek’s little minions,” he told me when I thanked him. “They’re the ones willing to run down to the docks in this deluge.”

“What did that cost us?” I asked, cracking the box open and gazing greedily at the long, thin fishes inside.

“We already give them three meals a day and a warm place to sleep,” Tam grumbled. “But three peacocks each. And I’m pretty sure that they pocketed most of the change on top of that, the thieving bastards. I mean, that’s what I would have done.”

All through the day the rain kept falling. It didn’t matter where I was in the cellar; it was a constant presence, impossible to ignore. Even in the strongroom I could hear it hammering down. I could have sworn that I even heard the storm drains below us, a rushing sound that was almost a rumble.

That’s not to say that it was unpleasant. There’s something comforting about knowing that the world outside is drowning, while you yourself are warm and dry.

I mostly stayed in the strongroom, reading or napping. Herald and Mak ran around upstairs all day, rarely stopping in one place for more than a few minutes at a time. Every so often someone would come down and exchange a few words, letting me know what was going on. With the help of the city guard’s own healers the wounded had all recovered enough to be able to move, or at least to be moved. The wounded guards and mercenaries had all been removed, along with the bodies outside. The wounded guests all had their own rooms, and by evening the common room was in a state where food and drinks could be served again.

They tried, and failed, to get any news about Sempralia and the other councilors. That, we decided, was bad. If the councilors had all survived, surely that fact would be announced loudly. Instead there was only silence.

Sometime after sunset the family plus Kira and Ardek gathered in the main cellar. My humans were all tired — Mak, to my satisfaction, was visibly less so than the others. Some of them had new scars. Some of them had lost friends. All of them had been through something terrible, and the atmosphere reflected that. But they had all fought successfully to protect what they could, and they were all alive and whole. And that, in the end, was all that mattered.