Flamecaster

Yes, Ash thought. I am in love with this girl.

  He heard Taliesin’s voice in his head.

  It’s the worst thing in the world, to risk yourself by loving someone. At the same time, it’s the best thing in the world—and worth the risk.

  Jenna’s mind was elsewhere. “Do you know someone who can get black powder, fuses, and the like?”

  Ash nodded, thinking of Lila. “I do.”

  “I’ll make a list then. But you have to promise me something.”

  “Promise you what?”

  “You’ll free the dragon if you can.”

  Ash pressed his lips together to prevent words from spilling out, but Jenna saw.

  “You’re wondering why I have this fixation on a dragon I’ve never met?”

  “The thought . . . did occur to me,” Ash said carefully.

  “The dragon didn’t volunteer,” Jenna said. “Anyway, I just—I can’t help feeling that I—that it’s going to be important, going forward.” She looked up at him. “Can you trust me on that? I’m not asking for a contract. All I’m asking is that you try.”

  Ash swallowed hard. “I’ll do what I can.” He paused. “Have you thought about what might happen to you if the deal falls through? It’s not like the king is going to set you free.”

  Jenna shrugged. “I’m from Delphi. I should have been dead a long time ago.”

  “Some things are worse than death,” Ash said.

  “Then give me an out.” She held out her hand and wiggled her fingers.

  “That again?”

  “No, healer. This is different. I don’t want to die. I want to live. I want to hear the bells in the temple church in Delphi, ringing out the victory. I want to hike into the Spirit Mountains and speak to witches and faeries. I want to sail over the ocean, all the way to the horizon and beyond. I want to go all those places I’ve never seen, except in books. I want to fly—”

  He raised both hands. “All right,” he said, “but, remember, I—”

  “I want more of this.” She pulled his head down and kissed him soundly on the lips. “And this.” Sliding her hands under his doublet, under his shirt, finding the bare skin, she lay back in the chair and pulled him down on top of her, wrapping her legs around him.

  “I have plans for you, Wolf,” she growled, biting at his ear. “I don’t intend to die any time soon.”

  “I believe you,” he said hoarsely.

  An hour later, by the temple bells, they still lay tangled together in the chair, their clothing in definite disarray.

  There is a lot can be done in a chair, Ash thought. Maybe we can just live in this chair from now on.

  “I’d better go,” he mumbled against her shoulder.

  Jenna yawned and snuggled in closer. “This is scandalous, you know, that we’ve spent so much unchaperoned time together.”

  “Are you complaining?”

  “No!” she exclaimed, with such fervor that he laughed. “It’s just—in Bruinswallow, I think we’d be considered married, and I still don’t know your real name.”

  Ash searched her eyes, brushing her lips with his fingertips. “Do you really want to know? Because I’ll tell you.”

  She returned his gaze for a long moment, then shook her head. “It can keep. I rather like Adam Wolf. When this is all over, you can take me to meet your mother.”

  “I’ll do that,” he said, realizing that he wanted them to meet.

  She grimaced. “She’ll probably hate me.”

  “You’re wrong,” Ash said. “She’ll probably like you more than me.” He took her face between his hands and kissed her nose and her eyelids. Then gently freed himself, straightened his clothing, and buttoned up.

  She wrapped up in a quilt, found paper and a quill, and wrote him a list. Then told him exactly what to do with the items on it.

  Ash slid his finger under his silver collar and brought out a tiny packet made of cloth. He held it up for her inspection. “This contains two berries, known as baneberry. A single berry will kill you within minutes.”

  She stared at it. “You’ve had this all along?”

  “You never know when you might face the sudden need to die,” he said. “Or for someone else to die.”

  Jenna eyed the packet. “Is it—is it painful?”

  “Would I choose something painful?” Ash snorted. “I’m told it’s quite pleasant.” He showed her the cords attached to the packet. “This ties in place, inside your clothing. Any questions?”

  She was looking at him, head tilted, questions crowding into her eyes. “More secrets, healer?”

  He shrugged. “We are trading secrets, I believe. Just remember to take it with you if you change clothes.”

  “I’ll remember,” Jenna said. She dug into the little bag and extracted one of the berries. “Keep this,” she said, holding it out to him. “I only need one.”

  “I have plenty,” he said.

  They kissed. And kissed again.

  Finally she broke away and said, “I have something for you, too.” She crossed to the bed, reached under the straw ticking, and retrieved something. She took his hand and dropped it into his palm, closing his fingers over it.

  He opened his hand and looked at it, poking at it with his other hand. It was a pendant on a chain, both corroded by the passage of time. “What is this?” he said.

  “It was my father’s,” she said. “It’s all I have of his.”

  “Jenna,” he said, his voice thick. “You can’t give me this. Why are you—”

  “I want you to have this, for luck,” she said. When he shook his head, she said, “I want to give it to you. If I keep it, sooner or later they’ll take it away.”

  “But . . . what about you?” Adam said. “What will you do for luck?”

  “I have you, healer,” she said. “That’s all I need. You can give it back to me when I see you again. Now kiss me again, and go.”

  So Ash did. Pausing in the doorway, he said, “See you soon.”

  “Thank you, healer,” she called after him. He looked back at her and she was sitting cross-legged in the chair, hands resting on her lap, palms up. There was something in her eyes that sent a shiver of apprehension through him.

  It was hope.

  38

  ON THE WATERFRONT

  Ash was already sorry he’d brought Lila along. She’d been raising objections and complaints ever since he’d shared the new plan.

  “Couldn’t you have picked a less miserable night?” Lila grumbled as they navigated the twisting streets of the harbor district of Ardenscourt. She swiped rain from her face with her sleeve and hunched her shoulders.

  “I don’t know how much time we have,” Ash said. “Strangward could decide to sail with the morning tide.”

  “Strangward seems to be tight with the weather gods. Maybe he knows we’re coming, and he ordered this up special.”

  The hair prickled on the back of Ash’s neck. No. How would he know?

  “Do you really think the empress will blame this on Arden?”

  “It seems plausible, doesn’t it? Arden sinks their ship and steals their dragon so they don’t have to come to terms.”

  “That doesn’t work if what you really want is an army,” Lila pointed out.

  “You don’t have to come with me,” Ash said. “I only brought you along because you’re good with a knife. And got us the uniforms. And the explosives.”

  Lila snorted. “Sorry I’m not pulling my weight.”

  “This may not be your idea,” Ash said doggedly, “but it’s what we’re going to do.”

  “Is it? Are you really going to start playing the prince card after all?”

  “Don’t start in about my mother the queen, because I don’t want to hear it.”

  “All right, then, as your peer and absolute equal, I can’t help thinking this is a really bad idea.” Thunder crashed, and Lila flinched. “Will this stuff even work when it’s wet?” She patted her backpack.

  “Jenna says it will.??
?

  “How did she get to be such an expert on explosives?”

  “She worked in the mines.”

  “At least tell me you’ve changed your mind about the dragon.”

  “I made a promise,” Ash said.

  “So break it. You break promises to me all the time.”

  “Maybe the dragon could help us in the war.”

  “And maybe we could set fire to Fellsmarch and hope it spreads south.” Three more strides and she said, “I say, bring back the old, hard-hearted Ash.”

  When Ash said nothing, Lila muttered something else that he couldn’t quite make out.

  “What did you say?”

  “I said I should have drugged you and dragged you back to Fellsmarch when I had the chance.”

  “I’m the one with the drugs, remember?”

  “Ha.”

  “Anyway, since when have you—did you hear that?” Ash spun around, his hand on his amulet, staring back down the street. He glanced at Lila, who somehow had a knife in each hand. They both looked and listened.

  “I guess it was the rain or the wind,” he said finally, thinking, It’s never the rain or the wind when you want it to be the rain or the wind.

  “Probably,” Lila said, the knives disappearing. “Or Lieutenant Karn and the real King’s Guard, out for a stroll.” She took another long look before she turned and trudged on, shoulders rounded under her heavy rucksack. “What do you know about ships, anyway?”

  “Not much,” Ash admitted. “Breaking into a ship can’t be much different than any other burglary.”

  “Except for the part where there’s no place to run if you get caught, or if somebody blows up the ship. Or if a dragon decides to roast you like a chestnut.”

  “You can swim, can’t you?”

  “Of course I know how to swim. But have you smelled the river?” Lila wrinkled her nose. “It’s a cesspool. I’m not planning to do any swimming tonight, just so you know.”

  “Are you really going to whine the whole time?” Ash buckled his blackbird cloak over his collar and pulled the hood up.

  “There’s no reason both of us have to go,” Lila said abruptly. “I’ll handle it. You stay here.”

  “Give it up, all right? If anyone stays behind, it’s going to be you. Otherwise, we stay with the original plan: You deal with the explosives. I’ll deal with the dragon. That way we can be there and gone in no time. If you’re spotted and questioned, we’re the harbor patrol, remember. We saw something suspicious, like somebody boarding their ship.”

  “And that’s why we’re carrying canisters of black powder. Got it.”

  On reaching the docks, there was one piece of good news: at some point, Strangward’s ship had raised anchor and was now tied up at the wharf, maybe to load supplies for their departure. Once again, Ash thought he heard something, soft footsteps or maybe the creak of planks behind him. He turned, scanning the length of the dock. He saw nothing, and heard nothing beyond the slap of water against the pilings and the clank of rigging against masts.

  It was near midnight, and there was just a single light burning in the wheelhouse. The crew quarters were dark and silent, the gangway was drawn up, and the ship was shrouded in a shimmering layer of what appeared to be greenish ice.

  Ash stood staring at it, hands on hips.

  “What’s that?” Lila whispered.

  “I don’t know,” Ash said, “but I think it means keep out.”

  “Can’t you do something?”

  “Maybe.” Closing his hand on his amulet, Ash sent a tendril of magic forward. When it collided with the barrier, the ice vaporized into a poisonous-looking cloud that was carried away by a stiff wind blowing upriver. He continued until the near side of the ship was clear.

  They waited for someone to sound the alarm, but there was nothing. The ship appeared to be deserted.

  “What do you think?” Ash whispered.

  “Looks like a trap to me,” Lila said glumly.

  Ash threw a line over the rail and used it to pull a rope ladder up and over. Then waited again. Nothing.

  “I’ll go up first, take a quick look, and then signal to you,” Lila said. Sliding the backpack over her shoulders, she scrambled up the ladder to where she could peer over the rail. Apparently satisfied, she vaulted over, turned, and motioned to Ash to come ahead. Then she disappeared.

  Ash ascended the ladder, climbed over the railing, and dropped to the deck on the other side. He pulled up the ladder so that it couldn’t be seen from the wharf, then hurried amidships, where the hold was.

  The hatch was secured by a chain and padlock. Ash melted the chain and removed it, then wrestled the hatch open. The stench from below hit him like a physical blow.

  We’re too late, he thought, heart sinking. The dragon’s already dead.

  He knew he should be relieved. Instead, he felt a keen sense of loss. And not just because he hated the thought of facing Jenna with the news. If he survived the night himself.

  Dropping the ladder into the darkness, he climbed down, using his fingertips to kindle his torch.

  The dragon lay at the rear of the hold. Its head was down, resting on its forelegs, and its eyes were closed and crusted, like it hadn’t opened them in a while. Even its scaly armor seemed dull. Rabbit carcasses lay untouched in the corner, which accounted for some of the smell. A trickle of vapor from the dragon’s nostrils was the only visible sign of life, but Ash sensed that a spark still burned deep within.

  “Hey,” Ash murmured. There was no response. Ash reached out with his mind, trying to make a connection, but the mind behind the eyes was murky and muddled, impossible to read, or to communicate with.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Are you sick?”

  For a moment, he could have sworn the dragon understood. It turned its head, and looked into Ash’s eyes, like a plea for help. Then it rested its head on its forelegs.

  He eased closer until he could reach out and touch the dragon’s shoulder. It was dry and cool. But maybe that was the way it was supposed to be. He pressed his fingers against the side of its neck and felt a pulse, thready and weak. Truth be told, Ash knew nothing about dragons. But his healer’s instinct told him that this dragon was close to death.

  Was it sick because it had been penned up inside the hold too long? Had it been taken away from its mother too soon? Or had it lost the will to live? Who wouldn’t, in this environment?

  “I’m here to help you if I can,” Ash said. “I’m going to try and get you out of here.” The dragon didn’t stir, didn’t open an eye.

  Taking a deep breath, Ash sent magic in, exploring in totally unknown territory.

  The dragon was cold, cold, cold until he neared its head. It got warmer and warmer until he reached the area around the collar, which was blistering hot, feverish with power.

  What was going on? Was the collar leaking magic into the dragon? Or was it preventing it from flowing into the rest of its body? Ash ran his finger over the dragon’s collar, feeling a familiar tug. Ash touched the collar around his own neck—the one that prevented him from accumulating enough flash to do mischief.

  The sensation was the same. The collar around the dragon’s neck must serve the same purpose—to collect flash and to keep the dragon from fighting back.

  Ash touched the dragon’s collar again, sliding his finger between the collar and the dragon’s scales. He could find no opening, no catch. It seemed to be as permanent as his own.

  Could a lack of magic be what was making it sick? If so, elemental flash might be the cure. Experimentally, he pressed his palm against the dragon’s head and fed a little flash into it.

  Nothing.

  He fed it a little more.

  The dragon shuddered and opened his eyes. They glowed like amber in the murky hold.

  “Does this help?” Ash fed him more flash.

  The dragon nudged Ash with its nose, pressing against him like a cat. The message was clear. More, please.

  Ash
complied. This time, the dragon lashed its tail against the floor.

  It seemed to be helping, but Ash doubted he could produce enough flash to make up for what the collar was sucking away. He had to find a way to remove the collar.

  Just then, the light trickling through the hatch was blotted out. “Ash! You down there?” It was Lila, her voice oddly shrill.

  “Yes. I was just—”

  “We’ve got to go. Now. All hell’s broken loose. Bring the dragon and come on.”

  Ash could hear other noises. It sounded like fighting.

  “I can’t bring the dragon, but maybe if I—”

  “Then leave it and come before they—scummer!” Lila swore. She slid through the hatch, pulling the trapdoor closed after her. For a moment, she dangled from it by one hand, then dropped to the floor, crying out in pain when she landed.

  “What’s going on?” Ash said. “Is there—”

  “Shhh!” Lila looked up at the ceiling. What sounded like a dozen pairs of feet pounded overhead, the sound receding as whoever it was raced toward the bow of the boat.

  “They’ll be back,” Lila said.

  “Who’s they?”

  “It’s those miserable bloodsucking priests,” Lila said. “A whole pack of them. They must have sniffed you out somehow. They’ve killed everyone else on board, as far as I can tell.”

  That was when Ash noticed that Lila was favoring her right arm. When he moved the torch closer, he could see that her sleeve and the side of her jacket were sodden with blood.

  “You’re hurt,” he said. It was an ironic turnaround from the night he’d first met the Darians, back in the dormitory at Oden’s Ford.

  “It’s just a scratch, but thanks for noticing.” Lila squinted into the darkness. “If we could find a way to fasten the hatch down, maybe they won’t find us. Or at least they’ll make a lot of noise trying to get in and draw the blackbirds.”

  It’s a rare day, Ash thought, when a person actually wants to attract the attention of the King’s Guard of Arden.

  Ash looked around. There was the washtub full of rum, some putrefying dead rabbits, his healer’s kit. A sick dragon. Nothing much to work with.

  “If not for this bloody collar, I could at least give them a warm welcome,” Ash muttered.