Destruction's Ascent, page 3
part #3 of Dragon Ridden Chronicles Series
He slid her a sidelong grin filled with all the slyness a pickpocket growing up on the streets of Aurelia possessed. Dewdrop bent and slid a long, oblong object out of his boot. "That Lord should have known a pickpocket wouldn't store anything in his pockets. That's just asking to be robbed."
Tate gave him an appreciative smile as he handed her his pilfered goods. She turned it over in her hand. The thing was long and smooth. Not a relic. At least she didn't think so. She flipped it upside down, listening as something inside clanked against the metal.
"What is it?" she asked.
Dewdrop took it back from her. "It's a thief's catch." He arranged his fingers on either side, pressing against a hidden lever. The latch popped open. Dewdrop widened it, and using his forefinger and thumb reached in and pulled out a small, rolled up piece of paper. "We use them to hide messages when we don't want them being intercepted by nosy gits."
Tate gave him an interested look. "If it's such a common practice, it must not be very effective."
Dewdrop lifted a shoulder. "It's an old trick, not used very often anymore. Scotty likes it. Says it gives the toshes an illicit feel. Gets their blood flowing."
Tate figured tosh meant a noble or anyone considered genteel. Not a word she'd heard used before, but her grip on slang wasn't always the greatest. She might speak the language, but she didn't always understand its intricacies.
"You think it's from Brown Eyes?" she asked, curious. If it was, they'd tipped their hand by stealing it. He'd know they were on to him now.
Dewdrop shook his head, a thoughtful look on his face. "I doubt it. It's not his style. From what I've learned, he's not the type to trust a two-bit hack like Scotty. My sources indicated that whoever's working with Brown Eyes also has a connection to Scotty."
"And that will tell us what it is?" Tate asked. Seemed pretty convenient to her.
"No idea. He just seemed very protective of it."
"So, you stole it?"
He shrugged. "Seemed like a good idea at the time."
You and your good ideas. Night's voice was dry. Good thing the dragon didn't catch you with that.
"Good fortune or not, I'm still not off the hook," Tate said. "He's ordered me to their headquarters tomorrow. We have until then to think up a good reason for being in the underground." She raised her hand to forestall Dewdrop's objection. "Something better than using your contact to get to Lucius. I don't think he bought that."
Dewdrop shut his mouth, disgruntlement on his face.
You couldn't come up with anything better? Night asked as his tail swished behind him.
Dewdrop leveled a hard look at their friend. "I didn't hear you making any suggestions."
Night's whiskers pointed forward. He lifted a paw and licked it before rubbing his face against it. Dewdrop cast his eyes to the sky and shook his head, knowing that was Night's way of saying he was done with a conversation.
"Enough, both of you. What's on the paper?" Tate hoped it was something useful or else the entire trip down to the Night Market had been a waste of time, putting them all in unnecessary danger.
Dewdrop pressed his lips together but didn't argue, unfolding the paper. "It's a name."
He turned it so Tate could see. Ron Shipperly. "Is that it?"
He flipped it over, looking on both sides. "All that I see."
"Let's see if we can find this Ron Shipperly then. Maybe we'll learn more once we know who he is," Tate said.
With that, the three turned toward home. The sun was beginning to set and Tate wanted to be away from this part of the city before it was full night. This wasn't the nicest area of town, and after dark it became a lot rougher as the sailors in port got rowdier and rowdier after visiting the pubs. Night's presence would discourage most from seeing Dewdrop and Tate as an easy mark, but not all. She didn't feel like another fight so soon after the excitement of the Night Market.
They made it several streets before someone yelled Tate's name. She turned to look, a frown on her face. Not many people knew her here, and of those that did, most would have gladly watched her drown rather than lend a helping hand. Hearing her name shouted so loudly was a surprise. She'd yet to determine if that was a good thing or not.
A head popped up out of the crowd and a hand waved madly.
"Trent?" Tate's surprise morphed into pleased expectation.
"Friend of yours?" Dewdrop asked.
"He's part of Jost's crew," she told him, her voice distracted as she noticed a giant man trailing in Trent's wake, easily visible over the throng of people. They came into view, a third man at their back. "You know one of them," she said with a sly smile.
Trent came to a stop in front of them and grinned. "Knew that was you."
He'd grown since Tate had last seen him when he'd been a gangly colt who didn't know what to do with the sudden length his growth spurt had given him. Now, he looked more at home in his body, still a youth but some of the sharp edges had smoothed out giving a glimpse of the man he would soon be.
Behind him ambled a giant of a man with a face you wouldn't want to meet in a back alley. Danny had a square jaw covered in a thick beard and was packed with muscles. He looked like the type who would break your face for looking at him, but he was a gentle giant. Fierce and loyal, and sweet to those he considered his friends. He was her favorite among Jost's crew, and not just because he'd taught her all she knew about sailing.
Ripley was the last to round out the trio. He had a sharp nose that didn't detract from his handsome face one bit. He was the lady's man of the group and could charm a matron out of her skirt.
"You're back in port?" she asked. The last she'd seen of them had been a few months ago when they'd set sail for the islands of Thoas.
"Got back two days ago," Ripley said, his eyes going to her companions. "Friends of yours?"
Tate nodded. She'd forgotten he hadn't seen her in a while and wouldn't have met the other two.
"These the two you were telling us about?" he asked Danny. The big man tilted his chin down in acknowledgment.
Dewdrop observed the newcomers with a blank face, his body tense as Ripley looked him over. Tate looked between the two, not quite sure what to think. She knew Dewdrop wasn't the biggest fan of her old crew. Not since it had come out that they'd spied on her at the behest of the empire and Ryu—taken her on board because she was dragon-ridden, when there had been no new pairing in nearly a century and never to a woman. It had created some feelings of insecurity on Tate's part, made her question whether everything was just a lie, an elaborate ruse to lull her into letting her guard down so secrets could slip. Dewdrop was nothing if not loyal.
Ripley's face was hard as he looked over the other two, his thoughts hidden behind a serious expression. Night blinked slowly at him, his expression one of boredom. Despite being a feline, he always managed to leave no doubt as to what he was feeling at any given time.
Tate braced herself, the expression on Ripley's face making her nervous. Danny and Trent's were similarly serious.
He put one hand on Dewdrop's shoulder. "She's a difficult one—prone to finding trouble in the oddest of places—but you'll take care of our girl, won't you?"
"What?" The question was echoed by both Dewdrop and Tate. They looked at each other. Tate folded her arms across her chest and glared at Ripley. "I don't need anyone to take care of me."
"Dartmouth," Ripley said.
"Baskerton," Trent added.
"The discovery earlier this year."
Tate gave Danny a betrayed look as he added that on.
"And the Red Lady’s cell where I first met you," Dewdrop finished.
She glared at all three of them. Bad enough when Night and Dewdrop teamed up against her. To add the other three as well? She might as well just find a place to wait it out. "None of those were my fault."
"Excuses, excuses," Ripley said with an easy smile, the seriousness gone.
Tate's mouth popped open. "You're the reason for Dartmouth. I never would have ended up in that dungeon if I hadn't drawn them off while you were tupping the commander’s wife."
Ripley shrugged, not looking at all chastened. Dewdrop eyed him, looking impressed. Tate shook her head. Just what she needed—Dewdrop following in the footsteps of the charmer.
"We're heading to the Crow's Nest. Would you like to join us?" Danny rumbled.
"Yes." Dewdrop answered before Tate could.
She gave him a suspicious look, one he returned with a meaningful one of his own. She mentally shrugged and turned to the others. "I guess we would."
Danny's smile was happy as Ripley and Trent took the lead, the two goofing around and singing off-color tunes as they capered down the street. Tate followed more slowly, mentally cursing the fact she'd said yes. She'd never gotten through a night out with these three without experiencing at least three pub fights and drinking enough alcohol to drown a fish.
She sighed. They were in for a long night.
*
Tate woke, feeling like someone had poured a gallon of sand in her mouth. Her eyes felt gritty and tired, and she had a crick in her neck. The pounding in her head was echoed by the one at the door. Dewdrop rolled over on the floor and groaned, sticking his head under the bed and curling into a little ball as if that would help with the noise.
"Get the door, Dewdrop," Tate croaked, without opening her eyes.
"They're here for you," he mumbled from under the bed.
"How do you know?"
"It's your room."
Tate lifted her head, finally managing to pry her eyes open, and looked around. Oh yeah. It was. She dropped her head back to the pillow. It wasn't long before the pounding repeated.
Tate groaned and stumbled out of bed, her hair sticking straight up, and her eyes barely opened. She paused as she noticed Night, sleeping upside down among the clothes she'd stacked on the table. "You ass, I just cleaned those."
His paws twitched, but otherwise he gave no sign that he'd heard.
The person resumed their heavy knocking, and Tate stumbled over to her door. She cracked it open, squinting at the person on the other side. "What do you want?"
The man started, taking in her appearance with wide eyes, but was otherwise too well-trained to react. He wore the livery of the Emperor, a blue coat with silver lining. On the back would be the Emperor's crest, a dragon wrapped around a stone.
He straightened and spoke, sounding as if he was reciting a message. "My Lord Ryuji has sent me to request your presence."
"What's the exact message?"
The man straightened, his face smoothing into placid lines as he recited, "Get your ass out of bed and hightail it up to headquarters now."
There was no 'or else' attached to the message. Tate wasn't surprised. Ryu was the kind of person who expected his orders to be followed without question. To be fair, not many would ever think about gainsaying the man.
"Can't you tell him I'm in no state to go jaunting about the city," Tate asked, leaning her head against the door frame.
"He said you might say that." Now that the man had gotten over his shock, a glimmer of amusement shone on his face. "He also said, 'I don't care how awful you feel. Next time don't get into a drinking contest with Ripley.'"
Tate gave the man a dour look as his lips twitched. His training won out and he managed to force his expression to stay serious.
It was pointless to keep arguing. Tate had a feeling he'd just resume his knocking if she tried to go back to bed. She gave a resigned sigh. "I'm on my way."
She didn't wait for a response, closing the door in his face. She leaned against it and ran her hand through her hair, grimacing at the snarls in the copper colored strands. The mass reached her shoulders, and she mostly kept it pulled back from her face, too impatient to do anything else with it.
"Get up. We have to head to the Upper," Tate said. Ryu hadn't called for their presence, but if she had to suffer after the night they'd had, they were going to suffer as well—especially since Dewdrop and Night had been the ones to bet her she couldn't match Ripley drink for drink. The only silver lining in this day was the fact she'd won the bet and was now several taros richer.
Dewdrop wormed further under the bed. She stared at the space where he’d disappeared, too tired to glare.
"Dewdrop, you're coming with me."
Night rolled onto his stomach and shook his head, hard, his ears making a flapping sound. He yawned and just lay there, looking around sleepily.
From under the bed came Dewdrop's voice. "Don't we have that appointment to look at houses later?"
Tate's head dropped back against the door with a thud. She'd forgotten about that. When she'd been elevated to the status of the dragon corps, the Emperor had made it clear he found her accommodations lacking. She'd thought he'd been joking, but evidently not. Ryu had told her that if she didn't move by the end of summer, the building would be demolished and all those who called it home, evicted.
It was an extreme reaction if you asked her, but since she didn't want to be responsible for a couple dozen people losing their homes, she'd decided it best to find a new place to live. It was probably the right move anyway. Two rooms for two people and three bearcats was getting a little cramped. Night and his offspring deserved their own space, as did Dewdrop.
Colton's Place had always been a temporary measure. Now it was time to find something better—especially with the generous stipend Tate received because of her new role.
There was only one problem—they were having trouble finding a suitable place. It had turned what should have been an easy process into something of a nightmare.
Tate turned and opened the door. The messenger still stood there, an expectant look on his face. She closed it again.
"I'm pretty sure Ryu's not going to let me get out of this," she said to the other two.
"Go. We know what we're looking for."
Better than you do.
"We'll go in your place," Dewdrop said, not missing a beat. "You can meet up with us after."
Tate groaned and ran a hand down her face. That would have to do. "Fine, the two of you get out so I can dress."
"I can't see anything from here. You're fine." Dewdrop's sleepy voice drifted from under the bed. He already sounded like he was halfway back to sleep.
Night blinked at her. This is my room.
She looked around, confused and half convinced. She glanced back at the desk and the clothes he'd used as his mattress last night. Her eyes narrowed. "Nice try. Everyone has three seconds to get out or they're coming with me."
Night jumped to the ground, the movement as graceful as if he hadn't spent all night out with a pirate crew. Dewdrop groaned but slid out from under the bed, his hair a nest of tangles. He and Night headed to the door, stepped around the messenger waiting outside, and ambled over to their room next door.
"I'll need another moment," she told the messenger, slamming the door again without waiting for a response.
Alone again, she wasted no time grabbing a pitcher of water and pouring it into the small basin on her desk. She splashed the water on her face and tamed her hair into some semblance of order before grabbing the first clean pair of clothes she could find.
In a very short time, she stepped out of her room and gave the messenger a nod of acknowledgment, saying without words to lead the way. Ryu lacked patience with tardiness. She was already going to be in hot water over the fact he had to send a messenger to summon her. She'd prefer not to piss him off any more than was absolutely necessary.
*
"This way," the messenger said, his voice polite when Tate veered toward one of the elevators. They were often crowded, as most preferred using the elevators to gain access to the Upper city rather than expending the effort of climbing the steep passage up the hill.
Tate followed the messenger, curious to see where he was leading her. Surreptitiously, she checked to make sure her blades could be easily drawn. He might wear the Emperor's crest, but how hard would it be for someone to pose as one of the Emperor's men as a means to keep her off-guard. For someone whose memory only went back about a year, she had a lot of enemies in the region. She wouldn't put an assassination attempt past any of them.
He led her to a recess in the cliffs, guarded by men bearing the emperor's crest. The sight allayed some of her concerns. One uniform would be relatively easy to obtain; a dozen would be considerably harder.
The passage was fully illuminated with wooden beams bracing it. While well-constructed, it was obviously not part of the main tunnel system left behind by the ancients. He led her to an elegant set of doors before gesturing to a man standing at attention to the side. The other man gave him a sharp nod and turned to a lever, pulling it down. They waited as gears shifted behind the doors.
Tate looked around, noticing how nice the place was. It was strange. She'd had no idea this was back here. She doubted many knew about it. It did lead to the question of what she was doing here. She’d never been to headquarters, but she couldn’t imagine them being near here.
The doors slid open soundlessly, revealing a gleaming cage of metal, much nicer than the ones available to commoners.
"It's an elevator," she said, stunned.
The messenger started forward, Tate's surprise initially locking her in place. She stumbled after him, stepping into the small space moments before the doors swished closed behind her. Before she had even braced herself, they began to rise. Their ascent was almost silent, at total odds to the noisy, clunking affair of the outside elevators.
"How is this possible?" Tate asked, examining the elegant details of the cage as they rose.
"It's the Emperor's elevator, built with the latest magic from the Academy. Its use is highly restricted."
And they'd chosen to summon her using it? Why? More importantly, just how high up in the hierarchy was Ryu to be able to commandeer this thing?
"We could have just used the normal elevator," Tate said.
"This was faster. I've been instructed to bring you without delay." The messenger had a gleam in his eye that indicated he knew just how much this freaked her out, and that he found it amusing.
