Destruction's Ascent, page 8
part #3 of Dragon Ridden Chronicles Series
"He was standing right next to it before it was stolen. I just assumed—"
"Right, I think I've heard enough." Tate cut him off. "You're not taking him just because someone 'thinks' he took something."
There was a murmur from the crowd as if they agreed with her. More than one person eyed the men from the Order with distaste, making Tate think this wasn't the first time they'd thrown their weight around and tried to lock up someone undeserving of the punishment.
The Order's man didn't back down, lifting his chin in challenge. "We have the right to search him. If he's innocent, he's got nothing to fear."
"I see." Tate studied him with a considering expression, her jaw moving side to side as she thought. A hint of movement on the roof of one of the overlooking buildings caught her eye. She turned her head, looking out at the crowd. What she saw there made her smile. She was careful to make sure the Black Order's men didn't see it. She nodded, once. "Let's ask our culprit then, shall we?"
The girl looked alarmed as Tate walked over to the cart. "I don't think that's a good idea."
The man scoffed. "Of course, you don't. Because he did it."
Tate lifted the table skirt and smiled at the boy waiting under it, his face guilty and rebellious all at once. "There you are. You're pretty small to have caused all this hubbub."
"I din't steal nuffin," he said.
"I don't believe I said you did." He was so thin, his bones pressed sharply against his skin. She tilted her head to the square. "Why don't you come out here so we can settle this?"
He gave her a dissatisfied look but crawled out from under the cart. Standing, he only came up to Tate's waist. He was much too young for the Deeps. He wouldn't last long, not unless he had a Night Lord's backing, which Tate doubted. As much as she disliked Lucius and his ilk, they took care of their people. None of their crews would have bothered with the negligible haul he was said to have made off with.
He hunched his shoulders and glared at the Order's men with all the defiance he could summon. Only Tate could see the way his body shook.
"What's your name?" she asked, trying to put him at ease.
He met her look with a fierce frown, folding his arms in front of him. He was a stubborn one, his body screaming his defiance despite him not speaking a word.
Tate hid her smile, keeping her face polite. She could empathize with him. Sometimes when it seemed everyone and everything was out to get you, your only option was to be as ornery as possible. It hurt less that way, when the world took a giant crap on you.
One of the Order's men snickered.
The girl stepped forward. "His name's Jack, Lady."
Tate gave her a smile of thanks, fighting the urge to set a calming hand on Jack's shoulder, knowing that he would take it as a sign of aggression. She turned to the Order and gave them a haughty look. "Well, get on with it. We don't have all day."
The leader snapped his fingers and gestured at one of the men. Tate watched, ready to interfere, as the man who'd controlled his laughter approached. He had kind eyes and a warm smile which he aimed at the boy.
"Hey boyo, I'm Ben. I'm just going to feel along your clothes, and then this will be over." The man waited a long moment as the boy just jutted out his chin before glaring at him.
Ben looked up at Tate before kneeling in front of Jack and running his hands along the boy’s pants before moving onto his torso and arms. The search was as professional as any Tate had seen done.
"Well?" the man in charge asked in a testy voice.
"He doesn't have anything, Smith," Ben answered. He winked at the boy.
"Check his shoes. Sometimes they hide it in the shoes."
Ben rolled his eyes at the boy and was rewarded by a slight smirk. He helped Jack take off his shoes, feeling around them and coming up with nothing.
"Nothing," Ben told Smith.
"There, we have our answer," Tate said. "I'll thank you to move along now."
Smith shook his head and pointed at the boy. "He could have stashed it somewhere."
"Could have, maybe, possibly. None of those words are proof he took anything," Tate said. "Next time, I suggest you be a little quicker to apprehend the suspect."
Smith swore, but with no evidence and no witness he had no recourse but to submit. From the rage on his face, he knew it too. He whirled on his heel and shoved his way through the crowd, issuing loud threats to any who got in his way.
Ben stood and gave them a smile that was more of a grimace before following in his cohort's wake. Tate sent a hard glare at the crowd until they gradually dispersed.
The girl rushed up to her brother, grabbing him by the arm. "Jack, what did you do?"
Dewdrop appeared out of the crowd, his head turned to watch the Order's men as they stalked off. When he reached her, he gave her a mischievous grin.
"I should have expected you to be at the center of this," he said in a low voice meant only for her ears.
She aimed a smug look his way.
"I din't do nuffin. They was just looking for someone’s to blame. I just happened to be it," Jack protested. His accent was a lot more pronounced then his sister's.
The girl cuffed him on the ear. "Don't be lying to me or the Lady now. Not after she saved your hide. I know you've been hanging with the Baker Street boys."
"What lady?" he asked in a sulky voice, rubbing his ear.
"I believe she's talking about me," Tate said with a charming smile.
He looked her over and snorted. "Ye've got rocks for eyes. That's no lady."
Ilith made her way down Tate's shoulder and onto her exposed forearm, her movement lazy as she resumed her favorite spot on Tate's body. While she could move anywhere she wanted to, she seemed to prefer the arm she'd inhabited when Tate had become conscious for the first time.
Jack's eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open. "Cor, you’re a dragon!"
Ilith preened, picking up one paw and licking it, much like Night when he was grooming.
"I din't think girls could be one of 'em."
"Guess there's a few things in this world you don't know yet," Tate said, watching him. Despite his apparent light fingers, she liked him. He reminded her of Dewdrop a little—from when they first met.
He snorted, the sound derisive.
His sister's mouth firmed, and she cuffed him upside the head again. "Be respectful."
"Fine!"
"Now, what did you do with the things you stole?" she hissed in a low voice.
"I din't do nuffin with 'em." Her eyes narrowed in threat and she raised her hand again. He swayed out of her way. "I din't. I swears. A strange creature crawled under theres with me and took all my loot."
Tate's lips twitched as the girl looked up at her and Dewdrop with a slightly lost expression. Tate lifted one shoulder in a negligent shrug. "He's very good at sneaking about."
"See, she and her lot are the thieves," Jack protested, pointing at Tate.
"That's a strong accusation coming from the original thief," Tate said. "We simply re-appropriated stolen goods. That's not really stealing."
Dewdrop shook his head. "Why am I not surprised that you think that?"
She grinned, taking his point.
Dewdrop turned to Jack and the girl. "It might be best if you close up for the day. Ben's not a bad sort but Smith tends to hold a grudge. He'll make life hard for you, given half the chance. May want to lie low until he's had a chance to cool off."
"Who're you to tell us what to do?" Jack asked, looking Dewdrop up and down. "Just because you serve one of them fancy dragons."
Dewdrop gave him a razor-sharp smile. "You've been running with the Baker Street boys, haven’t you?"
"What's it to you?"
Dewdrop leaned forward. "They're the bottom of the barrel for the gangs. You'd do better to go with Dilly Lane or the Fivers if you want to learn proper thieving."
Jack's face grew watchful. "They wouldn't have me. Said I was too young." He looked Dewdrop over. "How do you know all the petty gangs?"
"Ran with the Banters for a time," Dewdrop boasted. "Before I moved up to one of the courts."
Jack's face lit up. "Really? That's where I want to be some day. Why'd you leave?"
Dewdrop glanced at Tate and away. "Found something better."
"Nothing's better than the Courts."
While they argued about that, Tate dug into her bag for another hot, crumbly pastry. Night appeared out of nowhere, rising on his back legs and snatching the meat pie out of her hand as she raised it to take a bite. Her growl was answered by a coughing chuff.
"That was mine," she told him.
I worked for it. Besides, you know the rules. All's fair with food.
True.
"Think he'll get her name this time?" Tate asked Night in a low voice as Dewdrop smiled at the pretty girl, Jack rolled his eyes at the two of them.
It's Daisy, Night said, raising his head, crumbs caught in his whiskers.
She rolled her eyes. "We know that, but I doubt he does."
Night's whiskers pointed forward, his version of a laugh.
"I can't thank you guys enough," Daisy said with a sweet smile. "I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't stepped in."
Dewdrop shrugged in studied nonchalance. "No trouble. We were happy to do it."
Daisy's smile got bigger, and it was easy to see why Dewdrop was enamored. Her face was pretty, and she'd probably be quite beautiful once she'd matured into her bone structure.
In the short silence, Night paced forward and rubbed his head against her skirt before sticking his nose into the nearest vase of flowers. His sides bulged as he inhaled deeply.
Dewdrop turned to Daisy, a stiff grimace on his face. "I apologize for my rude friend."
His words came just as Night let out a sneeze all over the flowers he'd been investigating. Mortification showed on Dewdrop's face as he bent a horrified glare on Night—one meant to incinerate the bearcat where he stood.
"I'll pay for those," Tate volunteered to keep Dewdrop from imminent violence. To Night, she said, "Get out of there before you put her out of business."
"It's alright. Those haven't been selling well today. I'm glad someone is enjoying them."
See. She doesn't mind. Tate looked down just in time to see Night take a giant chomp out of the flowers. Purple petals stuck to his face as he chewed and swallowed before bending and ripping off another head.
Dewdrop made a strangled sound of horror.
Tate swallowed a laugh, knowing Night did it to get Dewdrop back for the prank last week when he'd put pepper on the stretch of floor where Night liked to sun himself. It had led to a sneezing fit that lasted hours.
Dewdrop flushed and looked up at Daisy.
She laughed, the tinkle a bright spot in the market. "Don't worry about it. They would have been thrown out at the end of the day anyway." Her smile died as she looked around. "I doubt anyone is going to want to buy flowers after that."
None of them argued, knowing she was right. The rest of the market would steer clear for fear of facing reprisal from the Order’s men.
“We can help you pack up,” Dewdrop volunteered.
"What makes you think we need help from the likes of you?" Jack asked with a sneer.
Dewdrop opened his mouth, looking like he was about to argue with the boy. Daisy stopped him when she cuffed Jack on the back of the head and leveled a glare that any mother would be proud of.
"Show your manners. They helped us when no one else would."
Jack rubbed his head and frowned at her but didn't argue. Before he could say anything else, his eyes widened, and his mouth popped open as he pointed. "Look, Avertines."
Tate turned to look at what had caught his attention. A pair of men dressed in long, colorful robes and faces painted porcelain white, like a doll's, moved through the market at a stately pace. Their expressions, particularly their eyebrows and mouth, had been drawn with dark lines, furthering the impression that they were wearing a mask.
Dewdrop frowned at the men and turned away.
"Who are the Avertine?" Tate asked.
Jack's head jerked up to her. "You mean you've never heard of them."
She shook her head as he eyed her with a depth of skepticism only a child growing up in the gutter seemed able to summon. "Bet you have."
"Tate's not from around here. She really doesn't know," Dewdrop said in a distracted voice. He didn't turn and look at the Avertines, instead stepping forward to help Daisy pack up the cart.
Jack's eyes got wide and his mouth dropped open. "Guess I can educate you then."
Tate bent an amused look on him. "Can you now?"
He shrugged one shoulder. "They're traveling performers. They usually get a spot on the edge of the city in the Mason's Stew and set up for a show."
Daisy gave Dewdrop a shy smile. "I was planning to take Jack tomorrow to see them."
Dewdrop didn't pause in his motions, the movements quick and jerky, as he tied down pots and shifted flowers so they wouldn't get bent or their stems broken once the cart was moving.
Daisy's smile wilted slightly when Dewdrop didn't say anything. "The shows during the day are mostly free. If you wanted to—I mean—if you were already going, we could meet up there. Maybe. See one of their performances."
Her brother watched the two of them and rolled his eyes, pretending to gag.
Dewdrop frowned and looked away. "I'm not sure we'll make it. We're very busy."
"Not tomorrow," Tate interjected.
"What about—"
"Ryu's given me a couple of free days," she told him with a meaningful glance. She wasn't sure how true that was, but he did say to let things cool down.
I'd like to see if they're as adept at heights as I am, Night said, the tip of his tail flicking as he watched Daisy and Dewdrop with an unblinking stare. Tate covered her smirk at him inviting himself along. She'd planned to tail the other two, but this worked much better.
Dewdrop glared at him, before turning and giving Daisy a tight smile. "We'd love to see you there."
Daisy beamed at him, the confirmation making her glow.
CHAPTER SIX
AFTER ESCORTING DAISY and her brother halfway to their house, Tate and her friends said goodbye and turned toward home. It wasn't far, but the differences between the two areas were stark. Gone were the streets littered with trash and waste, with buildings that looked like they were held up by a song and a prayer. Tate’s current home held the distinction of being on a well-groomed street that might not have been the wealthiest in the city, but it made up for it in cleanliness and tidiness.
Tate’s building was nicer than anything else on the street—especially since the landlord had gotten around to fixing the charred black spot that had marked her window. A remnant of a previous attack and another reason for them to find new lodging. Their landlady had been very insistent this wasn't acceptable behavior in a tenant.
"How'd it go with the house?" Tate asked, reminded of the two's afternoon meeting.
For a long moment, neither answered. Tate looked between the two with a growing suspicion.
"Dewdrop?" Her voice held a warning. Of the two, he was more likely to cave. Night would just ignore her or scale a building to escape annoying questions if he got it into his feline brain.
"About that," he started.
Tate knew she had a thunderous expression as she fixed him with a steady glare. "What did you two do?"
Dewdrop could only hold her gaze for a moment before he looked away, one hand reaching up to rub his neck, guilt written all over his face. Tate knew him too well by now, not to know what that gesture meant.
"The house didn't work," he said simply.
"And?" she asked, knowing that wasn't the end of it. If it was, he wouldn't look like he'd rather have his skin scraped off with sand than answer her questions.
"We may need to find a different agent to help us find a place," he confessed with a slightly ashamed expression.
Her mouth dropped open, and her gaze went to Night as he took the coward's way out and disappeared into their building. Dewdrop took advantage of her distraction to follow hot on his tail. Tate was slower to act, surprise rooting her in place.
She came unstuck with a vengeance, dashing up the stairs behind him. "What do you mean I need to find someone else?"
Dewdrop called over his shoulder, "He said he's not willing to work with us any longer."
He disappeared into her room and Tate followed. "Why?"
He pointed at his mouth which was currently stuffed with food. Her gaze swung to Night as he placed one paw on a cub and gave a few grooming licks before repeating the action with the other cub.
He called me an animal and Dewdrop a guttersnipe, Night informed her.
"He showed us to the servant quarters in the basement and told us the rooms there were too good for the likes of us but if 'Lady Fisher insisted on collecting strays, this would be at least passing respectable.'" Dewdrop's voice adopted a high sound as he mocked the agent’s voice. It was a spot-on imitation, and Tate struggled to keep her amusement contained. He needed no further encouragement.
Tate let out a puff of air and folded her arms. Put like that, she couldn't blame them for whatever they'd done, knowing she would have done something similar.
"And what did you do in return?" she asked in a tired voice.
Dewdrop and Night looked at each and shrugged. "We simply showed him what an animal and guttersnipe were capable of."
Tate held her irate expression for half a second before her lips twitched. "Wish I'd been there to see that."
Dewdrop's smile was wicked, hinting at the lady-killer he'd be someday. "You should have heard him screaming. I didn't know a man's voice could get that high."
She chuckled before moaning. "What are we going to do now? He was the only one willing to help us."
Dewdrop's shrug was negligent. "We'll figure it out. We always do."
Night made a grunt of agreement.
"Are those rolls from Sina's?" Tate asked, changing the subject.
Dewdrop paused in the middle of reaching for another one, guilt on his face. Three pairs of eyes rotated to the plate of rolls waiting on Tate's dresser. There were four left.
