Destruction's Ascent, page 2
part #3 of Dragon Ridden Chronicles Series
Night crouched, and Tate's hand dropped to the knife she'd hidden in her belt. Blade's loyalty was always difficult to judge. He'd wavered between enemy and impartial party in the past, even appearing almost friendly at times. In the end, he was the right-hand man of the Luciuses, two Night Lords who shared the same name and identity to fool their enemies. He was theirs to command. If they'd marked Tate and Dewdrop for death, he would carry out his orders, no matter their history.
His lips twitched with amusement at their wariness. He jerked his head at the archway. "Best get going before they reach us."
Tate glanced behind them and cursed when she saw the men from the Order not far from the platform. Dewdrop stared at Blade, open disbelief on his face. Tate hesitated as well, searching for the trap.
Blade arched one eyebrow, the expression perfectly at home on a face as handsome as any noble’s. "Go, before I change my mind."
Tate didn't need to be told again. She tugged on Dewdrop's arm, forcing him to follow as they made their way swiftly but cautiously across the wide-open space; an area she suspected belonged to the Lucius’s court, hence the reason for Blade's presence. She was careful to keep an eye on Blade and the other threat as it quickly advanced from below. He might have said they were free to go, but this was the Night Market. Words were never to be trusted and betrayal was to be expected.
Blade turned his head to keep them in view as they made it to the archway. His black eyes seared Tate's with a hidden message, as if to say, 'you owe me, now'. Men spilled onto the platform drawing his attention. Blades appeared in his hands, the movement so quick that it was if they were called by magic. He gave the trespassers a fierce grin, his face ablaze with anticipation before he leapt to meet them.
Tate hesitated, not liking the thought of abandoning him to the Order's mercy, given he'd just spared them, but not really seeing a choice. Dewdrop grabbed her and tugged her through the archway, obscuring her view of the outcome. She stumbled before gaining her balance and running at his side.
"He'll be fine," Dewdrop assured her, sounding slightly out of breath. "He's the best fighter Lucius has. A few of the Order’s men won't even give him pause."
A few? There were at least five men out there. For Dewdrop not to be worried, it spoke to exactly how fierce a foe Blade was.
They made a right turn, quickly followed by a left. By the third turn, Tate was well and truly lost, her sense of direction unreliable this far underground. Luckily, Dewdrop seemed to know where they were going, navigating the tunnels with ease. Neither of them carried torchlights, but that wasn't a problem given the soft glow the walls gave off, illuminating their way with ease.
The entire labyrinth of twisting passages was man-made, the surface too smooth and edges too defined to be anything but.
Their pace slowed as they put several tunnels between them and the market. Chances were the Order wouldn't follow them into the tunnels. One—because they were liable to get very lost down here without a guide. And two—because it was too dangerous. There were things that waited in this labyrinth. Things not seen since the Creators left this world, leaving their monsters behind—those judged too deadly to try to integrate with society.
"How often does the Order raid the Night Market?" Tate asked. She'd been under the impression that the market was largely left to its own devices as long as it didn't try to conduct business topside. There was an unspoken agreement between the Night Lords and the empire. One that said if the Night Lords and their people kept to their little fiefdoms, the empire wouldn't exert too much pressure. Stray to the world above, however, and they were fair game.
"Never. Not once in all the time I was part of the Court of Two Dawns," Dewdrop said, glancing behind with a frustrated expression.
"A merchant made it sound like this had become a regular occurrence," Tate said.
The Order has decided to make a name for themselves. They plan to start with the tunnels, Night said telepathically, stalking along at their sides, his barbed tail flicking lazily. An apex predator engineered by the same Creators who had likely built this place, he was sleek and deadly, his body a cross between a large feline and a bear. You would never see him coming, right up until his fangs were ripping out your throat.
He angled his head up at them, his long ears and their tufts of fur making him seem more adorable than deadly. More than one child had tried to tug on those ears, an act that he tolerated a lot better than Tate ever would. Amber eyes peered up at her over a flat nose.
Dewdrop snorted. "Like that'll ever happen. They could throw every man they had at this place and never make a difference."
"When did you hear that?" Tate asked after a moment, her forehead wrinkled in a frown.
Night's whiskers twitched in feline amusement. Bear might have been in his genetic makeup somewhere, but he definitely favored his feline ancestors. Around.
Her eyes widened. "You've been spying on them again, haven't you?"
Night didn't answer, just padded along silently.
"You know if you're caught, they'll use it as an excuse to deny your application," she told him. He'd made moves to get his species recognized as sentient. It would afford him all the rights and protections of a human, making it illegal to treat him like an animal.
Keeping an eye on my enemies is worth the risk. Night's tail switched back and forth, the only sign of his agitation.
"Unbelievable," Tate muttered.
He was risking everything. The Black Order already had it in for him, simply because he was made by the Creators. Such protections against being hunted or put down like a rabid animal should have been his by right. Not the case in Aurelia. Evidently some of the creatures left by the Creators were mad, unthinking monsters, consumed by bloodlust or driven to fulfill their original purpose. As such, the government had deemed it wise to create certain safeguards that would prevent such creatures from being elevated to the same status as the three main races—human, Kairi, and Silva. Groups like the Order had been the driving force behind those laws, and they would be only too glad to discredit him in any way they could.
Before she could make him see reason in that stubborn brain of his, a shadow sprang from an adjacent tunnel—completely hidden until now. That shadow grabbed Tate by the arm before she could do much more than squawk, slamming her into the wall and holding her there with a forearm pressed to her throat, her wig tilting precariously.
She didn't bother to struggle, already knowing the person who accosted her. She glared up at Ryu even as the presence inside her sent an excited shiver racing down her back. Ilith, the other being she shared her body with, acted like a cat in heat when Ryu and his dragon were near. It was an inconvenience—especially considering Tate wasn't entirely sure how she felt about the other man. Ilith's feelings muddied the water, making Tate's life even more difficult.
Dragon man, Ilith whispered in the back of her mind.
Yes, yes. He's the dragon man. Tate's thoughts were acerbic. She didn't dare try voicing them this close to Ryu. She'd learned earlier in the summer that most Dragon-Ridden—someone capable of forming a bond with a dragon and able to move between the two forms—did not communicate with their dragon beyond the stray emotion. To do so was a sign of dragon madness. Those afflicted were often put to death for their own good and the safety of others.
It was best to keep that part of her a secret. Ryu knew, but others might be lurking about. Tate had no doubt that a thief’s stronghold would have many hidey holes capable of concealing listeners.
Want, Ilith thought at Tate.
Well, you can't have him, she snapped back. By necessity, she'd been forced to learn how to communicate with her dragon telepathically. It was a work in progress. Not everything got through all the time.
This was not one of those times. Ilith grumbled and settled, her presence drawing back to a small corner of Tate's mind.
Ryu watched Tate with an intent gaze, suspicion in his as he waited for her to focus on him again. A wary look was in his eyes, one she'd started to notice he got anytime he suspected Tate was talking to the dragon.
"Ryu, what a surprise," she said with a cheeky grin as her wig gave up the battle and tumbled off her head.
He gave her a censorious look, not releasing the pressure he exerted. He wasn't hurting her, not yet, but the threat was there. "Yes, I’m sure it is, given the lengths you’ve gone to avoid me—but perhaps not as surprised as I, to see you dashing across the market, companions in tow. Imagine my shock."
Tate winced at the accusation in his voice, knowing he had every right to be irritated with her. Over the past few weeks, she’d gone to considerable lengths to dodge him, pretending to be out when he came around, ignoring his messages.
"I take offense to that. No one tows me anywhere. If anybody was being dragged, it was her," Dewdrop muttered.
Ryu's gaze shifted to him, the warning in his eyes causing Dewdrop to clamp his mouth shut in a mutinous scowl.
A man stepped out of the tunnel behind Ryu, surveying the three of them with an indifferent gaze. It was Ryu's companion from the market. Tall, with sandy blond hair, he had an aura about him that said he was not a man to be trifled with. His eyes had a weight to them that spoke to an older soul—one that had seen the passage of many years. He didn't seem the sort to suffer fools lightly, and a frown had taken permanent residence on his face. He arched one eyebrow, unimpressed. "Is there a problem?"
Ryu's hold on Tate loosened, and he straightened just slightly, not moving away. It meant that he remained uncomfortably close. "Lord Thora, have you concluded your business?"
The other man's eyes went to Tate, picking up on their intimate stance—the almost protective way Ryu stood in front of her. "I have. Who's your friend?"
Ryu sighed, the sound holding a thread of irritation as he stepped away from Tate. "Lord Thora, may I present Lady Tate Fisher, newly conscripted into the dragon corps."
Ryu's voice held an undercurrent Tate couldn't decipher. There was a warning there, but also a thread of concern. Whatever the emotion, it was put out of her mind when Thora's gaze sharpened, focusing on her with a sudden interest. He looked her over, his expression making it clear he found her lacking.
"This is the newest dragon?" he asked. He didn't wait for a response. "Somehow, I thought she'd be more impressive."
Tate lowered her chin and studied him. Ilith rose in her mind, using her eyes to look out. Old, she whispered.
"So sorry to disappoint," Tate returned after a long moment.
Ryu turned back to Tate. "What are you doing here?"
She gave a nonchalant shrug. "Nothing much."
"Tate." Ryu's voice was a growl of warning. "What. Were. You. Doing. Here?"
Dewdrop stepped forward. "I was meeting an old friend. Thought he could help me with something. Tate just tagged along."
Ryu's head swiveled toward Dewdrop, his expression saying he didn't believe that excuse for a moment. Dewdrop kept an innocent look on his face. He often used his apparent youth and baby face to get away with all sorts of things. Normally people believed him, equating his youth with honesty. Unfortunately, Ryu was just as familiar with Dewdrop and his tricks as Tate.
Ryu's jaw ticked. "Would that something have anything to do with the man you call Brown Eyes?"
Tate and Dewdrop both shook their heads. Night gave a big yawn, showcasing his fangs, and plopped down so he was sitting. "Of course not," Tate lied.
"Because I gave you explicit instructions to drop that matter." Ryu's voice had a hard bite to it.
Tate still didn't understand why he'd tried to force her to drop it. The situation with Brown Eyes was far from over. She believed that down to her very bones. The man had an obsession with her. It was only a matter of time before whatever he cooked up wreaked havoc with her life. She'd prefer to be proactively searching for him and the secrets he said he knew, rather than waiting for him to strike at a time opportune to him.
"It had nothing do with that," Dewdrop said, stepping forward. "It concerned my situation and the debt I owe."
Ryu's face turned incredulous. "You thought a simple merchant could help you with the Night Lord?" His voice made it clear just how ridiculous he found that statement.
Dewdrop looked insulted. "They have eyes and ears, don't they? They're not useless."
"Do they?" Ryu's expression remained unmoved, not believing Dewdrop's words. "You picked his pocket. What did you take?"
"I'd never—" Dewdrop's protest ended in a squawk as Thora loomed over him, grabbing his shoulder and patting Dewdrop's pockets. "What are you doing?" Dewdrop snapped, flailing around as he tried to dislodge the other man.
"Enough, guttersnipe," Thora rumbled. He fished out a small item that was no bigger than Tate's pointer finger.
"Hey, that's mine," Dewdrop said as Thora tossed the item to Ryu.
Ryu snapped it out of the air, his hand a blur. He examined it, turning the item carefully in the air. It was made of wood and a material similar to other relics they’d seen. There were gemstones on either end.
Thora stepped closer, looking at the item thoughtfully. "It's a reproduction," he said. "And not a very good one. They sell this sort of thing to fleece the unwary. Hardly worth the trouble of stealing."
Dewdrop swiped the trinket from Ryu's hand. "I didn't steal it."
Thora frowned down at her friend. "That’s worse. It's not worth the coin you paid for it. Even the gems on it are fake—nothing but paste." He turned to Ryu. "I question your judgment in getting involved with this lot. They hardly seem worth the effort."
Tate lifted an eyebrow. She'd found the other man mildly amusing until now. But not after that remark. She disliked it when others insulted her friends. "It's good no one asked your opinion then." She glanced up at Ryu. "Where'd you find this one?"
Ryu gave her a smile that bared his teeth. "He's part of the dragon corps."
"One of your superior officers, actually," Thora said with a smug glint in his eye, his hands clasped behind his back.
Tate's eyes widened as they shot back to Ryu's. "Then, that means—"
"Yes, he's dragon-ridden, like us." Ryu's face was guarded as he said that.
"Well, not exactly like you," Thora said. "I came by my dragon by legitimate means and have spent a lifetime serving the empire."
"So humble, too," Tate muttered.
"Don't anger him," Ryu cautioned in a tight voice only meant for her ears. "He can make life very difficult for you."
Tate kept her snort to herself. Fat chance of that happening. Tate angered people like him by simply breathing. She couldn't help it. It seemed to be a facet of her personality.
Voices came from the tunnels Ryu and Thora had appeared out of. One glance at Dewdrop's tense expression told Tate they were still in Lucius's territory.
"Ryu, if Lucius finds Dewdrop in his domain, it will not go well for us," Tate said. She didn't want to think of what consequences either Night Lord might extract from them.
Ryu hesitated, the urge to question them further written on his face. His lips firmed as he came to a decision. "Go, then." Dewdrop and Night didn't wait for him to change his mind, taking off down the tunnel and ignoring the sour expression on Thora's face. Ryu's hand on her arm held her back. "I'll expect you at our headquarters tomorrow morning. Be prepared to explain this little foray in depth. No avoiding me this time."
Tate didn't respond, shrugging off his hold and taking off after her friends.
"It won’t go well if I have to track you down, Tate," Ryu called after her, his words echoing off the tunnel and blending with the sound of her footsteps.
She held up a hand in acknowledgment. She'd be there. At least the delay would give her time to think of a better excuse for their visit to the Night Market.
CHAPTER TWO
THEY CAME OUT of the tunnels near the wharf—an area known for being under the thumb of the Night Lords. Warehouses dotted this section of the city, their nooks and crannies perfect for smugglers to hide their loot.
Tate, Dewdrop and Night made their way along the docks, keeping an eye out for any of Lucius's men. The smell of fish and salt water was heavy in the air. It was one Tate was intimately familiar with, having spent much of the life she remembered on board a ship. Even now as she put down roots in Aurelia, she sometimes found herself missing ship life—the constant rocking of the boat, the breeze on her face.
Tate's memory only went back a little over a year when she woke up in a glass cylinder with no idea of her past—nothing but her name—and a tattoo that could move. Lucky for her, a group of pirates happened to find her and conscripted her into their crew. If not for them, she would have probably wandered the cold, isolated spit of land she'd found herself on until she died, alone and forgotten.
Tate dodged around a pile of fish guts and kept moving. The spot they'd come out in was relatively isolated. Probably a good thing when trying to stay out of sight and mind. They moved further down the docks, where it grew more crowded as fishermen, sailors, and those who had business in the area went about their errands. Today, the bay was full of ships, big and small, anchored in the harbor. Only those with special permits were permitted to dock.
Aurelia was a strange city—its layout defying logic. The bay formed a crescent with land sheltering the harbor on three sides. A tower on one end held a giant chain that could be strung across the bay in times of war. The part of the city referred to as the Lower nestled into the black cliffs at its back and welcomed the sea at its front. On the plateau above the cliffs perched the area known as the Upper. It was where the nobles and upper class lived, leaving the Lower to the merchants and poor. The Emperor's palace sat on the very edge of the cliffs by the sea, overlooking all. During daytime, the stone that the walls were constructed of sparkled like a million diamonds.
Tate walked beside Dewdrop as he surveyed their surroundings. "What did you really take from Scotty?"
