Wrath of the Dragon, page 5
“Hungry?” she asked, and my belly growled again like it was trying to answer for me.
“Apparently so,” I said. “I know you don’t need it, but you must have some idea of what’s good around here?”
“You want to avoid most of the meat,” Cyra said. “The hunting conditions have gotten so bad that there’s very little rabbits or deer going around. It’s mostly snake, and no amount of seasoning can make that taste good.”
“Noted,” I said as I wrinkled my nose.
“The marketplace is a big square,” Cyra said. “We can go straight ahead or to the right, but they’ll both loop around the same way anyway. Make sure that money pouch is somewhere safe. I can put it back in my dress, if you’d like?”
I had to force myself not to glance down at Cyra’s impressive cleavage as I decided to pass her the coin purse, and the angel slipped it back into wherever it resided.
“How do you know so much about the Night Lands?” I asked after a moment. “I mean, without the cloak, I doubt you’ve been walking around here too often.”
“I have not since the demons took over, but I’ve lingered in the outskirts to watch,” she admitted.
“Planning your rescue mission?” I asked.
Cyra smirked at me. “Something like that.”
There was a strong smell of incense as we walked through the busy street, and the air was full of shouting as people called out the price of their goods. We walked past several stalls that were cooking various meats on small stoves, and my stomach churned as I watched a huge man chop the scales off snakes before throwing them into a pan.
“There,” Cyra said as she pointed to a stall with a faded pink covering. “You could get some food from that place.”
As we walked over, the sweet smell of vanilla and orange wafted toward me, and I was pleased to see there weren’t any snakes on display. Behind the stall was one of the winged women I had seen earlier. She had shimmering silver skin, and a cropped, pink pixie cut. Her face was dainty and beautiful, and her eyes were a deep silver color.
“She’s a Luna,” Cyra whispered. “They’re fairy folk, usually really kind.”
The Luna had an array of breads and cakes laid out on her stall counter, and she had made up some sandwiches with what looked like a cheese salad filling.
“Hello,” I said as we hurried toward the stall. “It smells good over here.”
“Thank you.” The Luna smiled. “I have some night goat cheese in my rolls today, it’s delicious and filling.”
“That sounds great,” I said. “I’ll take one of those please, and I’ll take, uh…”
My eyes scanned the food, and I had no idea what to pick. I knew I should take something else to have in my bag, but the delicious smells were overwhelming.
“We’ll take an orange loaf, too,” Cyra said. “Thanks.”
The Luna nodded and picked up a thick loaf of what looked like bread before she folded it up in brown paper and tied it up with string.
“One orange loaf,” she said as she handed the food over. “And one filled roll. That’s two golds, please!”
Cyra handed her the coins, and I noticed the Luna’s eyes flickered to the angel’s back.
“Thank you,” Cyra said hurriedly, and she spun on her heels and hurried off into the crowd.
I smiled at the stall owner, and she smiled back before her eyes darted after the angel once more. Even if she did suspect something, the Luna didn’t call out or say anything. She just smoothed down her apron and turned to serve her next customer.
“You good?” I muttered to Cyra when I reached her side.
“Yes,” she said stiffly. “I don’t think she could see the wings… but she suspected.”
“How?” I asked as I bit into my sandwich, and I was amazed at how delicious it was. The bread was sweet and warm, and the cheese was the freshest I had ever tasted.
“Probably my skin and eyes,” Cyra said in a quieter tone. “I look too… warm to be from the Night Lands. This is why I have been mostly sticking to the surrounding desert.”
I nodded in understanding, but since the angel didn’t seem too nervous, I carried on with our stroll and acted as natural as possible. I savored every bite of my food as I took in the sites of the market, and Cyra pointed out various stalls and vendors.
It was hard to take in everything I was seeing, but Cyra was an excellent tour guide. We passed a Dream Elf who sold various teas that would affect your sleep, more Lunas who fluttered along on their iridescent wings, and a group of men with dark red skin and the legs of horses.
“Are any of these demons?” I whispered to Cyra, and she shook her head.
“No, you’ll know when you see one,” she said quietly.
We walked past a stall that sold a whole armory of weapons, and I slowed down as I peered over at the various blades and arrows. They were infinitely more impressive than the replicas I’d seen people using at festivals when my department was standing by for events. Each piece was distinctly different from the next, and I would’ve been happy to carry any of them. Especially back when those scorpions attacked.
“I will buy you a weapon,” she said.
“Really?” I raised an eyebrow. “That would be really helpful. I knew I was your favorite human.”
“Do you want one or not?” she huffed.
“Maybe I should get something,” I said. “If I’m going to be wandering around a demon-infested world I don’t know anything about, then I should probably have some kind of weapon to protect myself with.”
“Not a bad idea.” Cyra nodded as we walked toward the stall. “Something you can conceal easily is always the best bet. Anything you can attach to a belt would be good.”
There was a short man behind the stall with a thick, brown beard. He was sharpening a dagger as he hummed to himself, and Cyra leaned in close to me.
“Dwarf,” she hissed. “They’re pretty nice, usually. Just don’t try to start any arguments, and you’ll be fine.”
I nodded as we came to a halt at the stall, and I examined the daggers that were lined up on a dark green cloth. Each one had a unique design on their hilts, and the blades varied in length, but they all shone with a dark gray glow.
“You won’t find a better blade,” the dwarf grunted. “Each one of those I made myself. Finest Onyx you can find inset in the hilts, brings them good luck.”
“They’re beautifully made,” I said as I carefully picked one of the daggers up. “Wow, really light, too.”
“You’ve got a good eye,” the dwarf said as he puffed out his chest. “In the market for something in particular, young man?”
“Not really,” I said. “Just something I can carry around easily.”
“Something that can draw blood quickly,” Cyra added.
The dwarf grinned at Cyra and then looked me up and down as he nodded slowly.
“What business are you in, lad?” he asked.
“I’m a Savior,” I said coolly.
“Makes sense,” the dwarf grunted and eyed my broad shoulders. “You’re certainly built for it. Although, your powers must be suffering a fair bit, no? Been so long since we’ve seen that moonlight.”
The bearded man sighed as he glared up at the purple-hued sky, and I wondered what his magical power was.
“It must be tough for you, too,” Cyra said. “Moon mining can’t be easy in these conditions.”
“It’s been a nightmare,” the dwarf grumbled. “Our mining abilities are becoming weaker every day. Just one night of moonlight would top us right back up. Not likely that will ever happen now. Damn gods…”
The gruff dwarf slumped his shoulders and sighed as he looked down at his stall. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Cyra’s lips purse, but she held her tongue.
“Which one would you recommend?” I asked. “For someone my size?”
The dwarf stroked his beard as he eyed me, and then he muttered to himself as he rummaged around under the table.
“Here,” he grunted. “I reckon this might be just what you’re after.”
He pulled out a long dagger with a glistening black blade and a bronze hilt with three black gems arranged along the center. The dwarf handed me the weapon, and I weighed it in my hand as I examined it. It was weighty without being too heavy, and the blade gleamed under the purple light of the orbs.
“This is beautiful,” I said.
“It really is,” Cyra agreed. “How much is it?”
“Twenty golds,” the dwarf grunted.
The angel nodded and scooped coins out of her pouch to hand to the bearded man. He quickly slipped them into his pocket and handed over a fitted sheath with a belt attachment.
“Thank you,” I said. “I’ll take good care of it.”
“Good luck out there, Savior.” The dwarf nodded and scratched his chin under the mountain of his beard.
I attached the sheath to my hip and carefully slid the dagger inside. Then I smiled at the bearded stall owner and started to stroll back into the bustle of the street.
“So,” Cyra said. “Everything you really need to survive you can get here. Food, clothing. There’s a tavern where you could stay the night--”
“Get off!” someone in the crowd yelled. “Get out of here, you filthy demon bastards!”
The crowd quickly parted, and I could see a stocky red-haired man who was standing in front of his stall. The guy must have been about the same age as me, and he was holding his fists up in a not very threatening way. He wore simple brown pants along with a navy tunic, and his round face was flushed pink under his red curls. The guy was clearly trying to defend his stall against something, and he puffed his chest out as he stood his ground.
Then I saw my very first demons.
There were two of them, and they were about five feet tall with dark purple skin. They stood on two legs and had spindly tails that swung from side to side. Each of them had short horns sticking out of their skulls, and they had sharp, pointed faces. Glowing red eyes sat above their hooked noses, and yellowing fangs stuck out of their mouths at odd angles. Both of them held roughly made spears, and they shook their weapons toward the stall owner.
The red-haired man was putting himself between the demons and his stall, and I could already tell it wasn’t going to end well. The crowd seemed to be trying to get as far away from the scene as possible, and the man trembled slightly as he looked the demons in their eyes.
“That’s my merchandise!” he spat with a shaky voice. “You can’t be doing that! Getting it all dirty and messing it up! How the hell am I meant to sell any of it like this?”
The two demons snarled at the man and shook their spears, but I couldn’t understand what they were saying. Then one of them leapt forward and slashed the guy’s arm with a sharp talon before they turned on their heels and strode off. The man howled in pain, and he gripped his arm tightly as the demons turned around the corner.
“Assholes,” I growled, and I raced over toward the guy as blood dripped from his wound.
“Ryan!” Cyra hissed as she followed. “What are you doing?”
“He’s hurt,” I said. “I need to help.”
“We can’t trust anyone!” she argued.
“Well, we have to,” I said. “Otherwise, we’ll never find your friend.”
I glanced at the angel as we ran over the cobblestones, and she looked surprised but didn’t argue. The two people on either side of the man had hurriedly lowered cloth curtains over their stalls to block them from view, and the red-haired man stood alone as he cursed under his breath and examined his wound.
I quickly bent down and tore a length off the leg of my new pants as I knew the material was clean, and I held it up to the guy.
“That looks pretty deep,” I said. “Can I help you put this on? It’ll stop the bleeding.”
The red-haired man shot his blue eyes up to mine, and he looked me up and down slowly. Then he took a step backward and glared at Cyra before he replied.
“Who are you?” he asked as he clutched his arm.
“My name’s Ryan,” I said. “This is Cyra. I liked the way you stood up to those demons, that was pretty ballsy.”
The red-haired man narrowed his eyes, and blood kept falling onto the ground from his oozing gash. I gestured with the cloth again, and the man reluctantly nodded as he held out his arm. Then I quickly made a neat little bandage around his wound and held it firmly as I applied pressure. The wound began to stop oozing as much after a moment, and I tightly secured the bandage.
“You should clean it the first chance you get,” I said. “Fresh water, and maybe an antiseptic… uh…”
I trailed off as I had no idea if that was something this world had, but the red-haired man nodded as he studied his bandage.
“I’m in the right business for that, luckily,” he said as he gestured to his stall.
I looked over at his stand to see a black cloth that was covered in poppy-sized, white flowers. They had long, emerald-green stems, and their pearl-like petals glistened from the light of a lantern at the back of the table.
“Moon flowers,” Cyra said. “Are you a moon farmer?”
The red-haired man nodded, and I tried to picture what exactly a moon farmer did.
“Why are you helping me?” the man asked. “What do you want?”
“Nothing,” I said. “It just really seems like we need to be helping each other out right now, more than ever.”
Cyra raised an eyebrow, but the red-haired man nodded. He sighed as he looked at the blood on the ground and ran a hand through his curly hair.
“I’m Landen,” he said. “Like I said, I’m a moon farmer. What’s your line of work?”
“Savior,” I said simply, and he nodded.
“Makes sense,” he grunted as he gestured at my arms. “Good to see you’re still strong, I know you folks have been losing power with every day we’re in this darkness.”
“It’s been tough,” I said. “How’s business for you?”
Before he could reply, Landen spun around and swatted at a dark corner behind his stall. He made angry shooing noises, and as I stared at the empty shadows, I wondered if he might be light-headed. Then there was a sharp cackle, and two of the little inky-black creatures I’d seen earlier raced away with their arms thrown up in the air.
“Bloody ink imps!” Landen spat. “Trying to get my flowers! They don’t even eat them, you know, they just like ripping the petals off. Bastard fucks.”
“How did you see that?” I asked. “I didn’t even notice them.”
Landen and Cyra both looked at me, and I knew I had said something wrong as I glanced at the angel.
“Moon farmer,” Landen said. “Remember?”
“Of course,” I quickly replied. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking straight.”
So, moon farmers must have some kind of ultra-good seeing in the dark gift. I noted this to myself. That was an awesome skill to have in this land.
“That’s fading as well, of course,” Landen sighed. “Every day that we go without the moon, this whole land gets weaker. If I don’t get some more black water soon, my whole business is over.”
The crowds began to mill past again, and I looked around to try and see where the demons had gone. It seemed like they had moved on, and I couldn’t spot any more of the purple creatures in the street. Landen started to rearrange his moon flowers, and I wondered if he would have any idea where the Demon King’s headquarters was. He was clearly not a fan of theirs, and a farmer sounded like the kind of guy who would know the land well. I felt bad for the man that his honest living was in danger, and that familiar sense of duty kicked in as I watched him work.
I wanted to help him, and maybe he would be able to help us in return.
“Let’s go,” Cyra whispered, but I held up my hand to gesture for her to wait.
“You said you need black water,” I said. “Is it in short supply?”
The red-haired man looked me up and down once more, but I was relieved to see a smile spread over his round face.
“Have you been knocked on the head?” he laughed. “All that carrying of folk must have taken you out of the city for a while to forget all this!”
“That’s right,” I chuckled. “Remind me.”
“The demons are rationing the black water,” Landen said. “When I say rationing, I mean holding it hostage. There’s no shortage of the stuff. Never has been, as you know. It’s just a power play to keep us under their thumbs.”
Cyra tapped her foot impatiently as she watched me, but I was curious now, and I could tell Landen was trustworthy.
“And you need the black water for your flowers.” I nodded. “So your work’s suffering.”
“That’s right.” The curly-haired man nodded back. “If I was as strong as you, I would storm over to the well myself and kick them all down into it. Well, not really, that would ruin the supply. But you know what I mean.”
“I can help,” I said, and the farmer narrowed his eyes.
“What?” the man scoffed.
“What?” Cyra hissed a split second after.
“Why would you take a risk just to help me?” Landen asked. “You spend all day saving folks, don’t you think you’ve done enough, yeah?”
“Well, like you said, my powers have been weakening lately,” I replied. “So I haven’t been able to help as much. This is a way for me to feel like I’m making a difference again.”
I was pretty proud of that thinking on my feet, and it seemed to satisfy Landen as he nodded slowly.
“I can understand that,” the farmer sighed. “Honestly, if I could get just a bottle full of black water, that would save my crops. The flowers just need the tiniest drop each, you see.”
Landen stroked his chin as he studied his flowers, and I saw a chance to strike up a bargain.
“You seem to pay attention to what’s been happening here near the city,” I said as I lowered my voice a bit. “Any chance you know where the demons have set up their base?”
The farmer’s blue eyes widened as he glanced around hurriedly, and Cyra shot me a glare as she folded her arms.
“What are you needing that information for?” Landen hissed. “You could get in a lot of trouble asking those sorts of questions.”
