Dragon Stones (55 page)

He soon emerged on the other side of the bridge.  The platform was a larger here, giving him room to stand without fear of a misstep plunging him into the river.  He spotted a crude ladder, as he had hoped, iron rungs leading up the piling to the top of the bridge.  He had just grasped the first one when he heard a roar from the castle, reminding him of the sound when Laquin's tower had fallen beneath him, back in Astilan; some large piece of the keep must have just collapsed.  He began to climb, taking the rungs as fast as he could in his condition.  Halfway up, he felt a familiar rush of wind, the downdraft from enormous wings.  T'Sian.  He turned his head, evoking a stab of pain from the no longer numb knot on his skull.  He saw the dragon gliding away from him, toward the village.  He shouted to her, but the river's voice was louder than his and she did not hear.

Would she destroy the village now?  Prehn was still there, and Tolaria.  He climbed the rest of the way, gaining the top of the bridge while the dragon stalked above the town, a roving shadow against the indigo sky.  She had not yet unleashed her fire; she seemed to be searching for something, flying in widening circles until finally she folded her wings to descend, vanishing from his sight.  She had landed south of town.  If he hurried, perhaps he could catch her before she took off again; he could find out what had happened to Prehn and Tolaria, Adaran and Diasa.

He took a last glance at the ruined, smoldering castle.  She had finished with the keep; the town would be next.

Ponn pivoted, and started running.

Once she'd gotten the fire going, Tolaria produced a small, battered pot.  She filled it with water from a skin, then put it into the fire to bring it to a boil.  Then she took out a long, thin knife.  Eyeing it warily, Adaran said:  "What's that for?"

She turned it over, examining the blade.  "Removing the bones from fowl and small animals," she said.  "I'm going to use it to cut your wounds open."

"Why would you need to do that?"

"If they're infected, they must be drained."

"Oh.  Will that hurt?"

"Yes."

"I'll do it," Diasa said.

The oracle gave her a half-lidded glare.  "I'm not looking for volunteers."  She began unwrapping Adaran's stained, stinking bandages, using quick, darting motions, like a bird pecking at an elusive worm.  "Whoever dressed these did a poor job."

Diasa snorted.  "He's lucky they bothered binding his wounds at all, after he killed Lord Dunshandrin."

"They said they didn't want me to die before they had a chance to question me."

One by one, Tolaria tossed the rags into the fire.  "How did you get so filthy in a dungeon?"

"Have you ever
been
in a dungeon?"

"I told you," Diasa said, "Ponn took us out through the cesspool.  I'm sure neither of us smells sweet at the moment."

"A cesspool."  Tolaria shook her head.  "That was the last place you should have been.  Look at these injuries."

Adaran did, and wished he hadn't.  On his feet, red, raw flesh puckered around the ragged wounds, which had gone dark and blackish in the middle.  His hands were in similar condition.  Tolaria inspected his palms, frowning.  "Wiggle your fingers," she said.

He tried.  The digits of his left hand moved as expected, but his right was unresponsive.  Alarmed, he cried:  "It doesn't work!"

Diasa said:  "You're lucky the twins didn't cut them off."

Tolaria looked closely at the wound, as if trying to see through the flesh to the muscles and tendons beneath.  "The blade must have severed something inside."

"Can you … can you fix it?"

"No.  All I can do is help your body to heal itself.  This injury is too severe."  She let go of his hand; it fell into his lap, useless, like something broken he had found lying in the road.  "I must deal with your left foot; the wound needs lancing."  She reached toward the pot of water, which was now at a churning boil, and pulled out the knife.  Wisps of steam rose from the blade, as if it were enchanted.  "Remember, this is going to hurt."

He closed his eyes.  "All right.  Go ahead."

"Would you like something to bite down on?"

"Dunshandrin's hand."

"Failing that?"

"Just do—"  He broke off with a gasp as a surge of blinding agony stabbed up from his foot.  At first he was afraid he might black out; then he was afraid he might not.  But the pain subsided quickly, and he opened his eyes to see blood and yellowish fluid mingling as they flowed from his wounded foot.

"The infection must drain for a little while before I apply the poultice," Tolaria said.

Suddenly another portion of the castle erupted in a flash of light, sending dust and debris.  A moment later the rumble, like thunder after lightning, rolled across the hillside.  "There goes another bit of Qalor's arsenal," Diasa said.

"When Dunshandrin ordered Qalor to make weapons out of the dragon stones, he never expected them to help destroy his own keep," Tolaria said.  "It's justice of a sort, I suppose."

Adaran said:  "Weapons?"

"Yes," Diasa said.  "Qalor used the crystals to make devices that explode and burn, and bred giant eagles to carry them.  Ponn said that Dunshandrin used them to destroy Astilan.  I'm told they laid waste to entire blocks without having to put a single soldier on the ground."

"That's madness," Adaran said.  "If we had known—"

Diasa gave him a sharp look.  "If you had known what?"

"Nothing.  Never mind."

"Well, if you will not say, then allow me to guess," Diasa said.  "If you had known what Dunshandrin was planning, you would never have agreed to work for him."  He said nothing; Diasa continued.  "I'm not a fool, footpad, even if I do live by my sword.  What else would you have been doing in the mountains?  How else would you have gotten hold of one of their birds?  You went to the dragon's lair.  You helped kill T'Sian's hatchlings."

Tolaria looked at Adaran as if he had just reached over and slit Prehn's throat as she slept on the ground beside him.  "Is this true?" she said.

He knew Diasa despised him, but he didn't want the oracle to hate him as well.  "It was … just a job," he said.  "People like Dunshandrin hire people like me all the time.  We do things their soldiers can't."

"What did you do?" she asked.  "What did you do that his soldiers couldn't?"

"Diasa already—"

"No.  
You
tell me.  I would hear it from
your
lips.
"

Resigned, he said:  "Dunshandrin sent a group of us to retrieve the dragon stones.  After we did the job, his men betrayed us.  They killed my partner and a fighter named Jenune, but failed to kill me and the sorcerer, Orioke.  I got away, rescued Prehn, stole an eagle, and made my way to Flaurent."

Diasa snorted.  "Most likely you left your partner behind in order to escape."

"I did not!  They murdered her right in front of my eyes!"

"Her?"  Diasa raised an eyebrow.  "A partner in more than crime, then?"

Adaran felt himself flush.  "She was my best friend," he said.  "Nothing more, nothing less."

"Perhaps her death will teach you to be more careful when choosing an employer."

He raised his right hand, limp and useless.  "I don't think my services will be much in demand in the future."

Tolaria shook her head, looked off into the night, toward the castle.  "You had best pray T'Sian does not learn of your role in this," she said.

"Oh, I don't know," Diasa said.  "I think I might like to watch him try to explain that killing her hatchlings was
just a job
."

"You won't tell her, will you?" Adaran asked.

"No," Diasa said, "but only for Ponn's sake.  He risked and probably lost his life to get you out of the castle."

He turned to the oracle.  "What about you, Tolaria?"

"I won't tell unless someone asks me."

"What?"

"Our lovely Tolaria is compelled to answer all questions truthfully," Diasa said.  "It's a side effect of something the twins did while they held her prisoner.  For example:  Tolaria, what do you think of Adaran, now that you know what he did?"

"He disgusts me," she said, glaring at him, then at Diasa.

"You see?" Diasa said.  "Honesty can be such an ugly thing."

Tolaria excused herself and left to gather wood for the fire, more to avoid having to deal with Diasa and Adaran than because the flames had begun to burn low.  She could scarcely believe what she had learned; Ponn had sacrificed himself to rescue Adaran, and he turned out to be one of Dunshandrin's cast-off lackeys.  If they hadn't tried to kill him, he would have collected his gold and gone on to perform some other mission for them.  It might have been him rather than Gelt on the dock at Achengate, lying in wait to murder her.  She'd sensed Diasa's hostility toward the man ever since the dragon brought them back; now she understood it.  How long ago had Diasa guessed the truth?

Diasa … the woman alternated between treating her like a crippled, somewhat stupid child and a party favor, her own personal truth-telling device.  She almost preferred Klem's outright hostility.  At least she knew what to expect from him.

A rush of wind announced the arrival of the dragon.  Tolaria quickly spotted her, a huge dark blot against the stars, and followed her approach as she settled down near the campsite.  Her scales whisked over the cut stumps, the sound like a giant snake slithering through tall grass.  Soon she came into the firelight, looming over it, a monster emerging from nightmare into waking.  The flames made her scales glitter, cast mask-like shadows across her face.  Diasa stepped up to the giant head; she scarcely reached the level of T'Sian's eyes.  The two of them began to talk.  Tolaria couldn't make out their words, but she could feel the dragon's deep voice rumbling in her abdomen.  Perhaps they were discussing T'Sian's next move.  No, not
discussing
; with Ponn gone, Tolaria doubted
that the dragon would
discuss
her plans with anyone
.  Most likely, T'Sian was merely telling Diasa what she was going to do next.

Adaran sat very still near the fire, probably hoping to avoid being noticed.  Prehn was back in his lap.  The child, innocent that she was, trusted him; she knew nothing of what he had done, only that he had saved her from whatever fate had been waiting for her in the mountains.

The dragon moved away from the fire now, coming across the hill toward Tolaria.  She stood there waiting as T'Sian approached, holding an armful of sticks, wondering what the beast might want with her.  Soon she arrived; they stood face to face.  The smell of burning iron filled Diasa's nostrils.  Such an odor had always followed the dragon, but Tolaria had never smelled it this strongly before.

"
Diasa says I should ask you a question
," T'Sian said.

Dunshandrin Town appeared to be completely deserted; it was eerie, passing through empty streets that had so recently been full of people.  The abandoned city reminded Ponn of a fishing village on an island off the Enshennean coast, halfway to the border with Barbareth.  He used to anchor his ship there while moving cargo north, to pick up supplies and to let the crew spend some time ashore; but one day they had sailed into the lagoon and found the village deserted.  Everything was intact, but the people were gone, as if something had come and snatched them away.  The volcano near the center of the island had erupted recently; he could only assume the islanders had fled, but never learned where they had gone or why they hadn't returned.  The superstitious among his crew reckoned they had angered the spirit of the mountain, and that it had taken them in retribution.

The analogy was apt, he thought; T'Sian, like that volcano, was very much a force of nature.  Still, he could not carry the similarity too far.  That had been an island village; this was a small city.  There were almost certainly still people here, hiding in their homes, guarding their businesses.  Most would be harmless, but some would seek to capitalize on the town's sudden abandonment.  Looters, thugs, robbers; a lone traveler such as himself would attract the attention of such types.  He carried nothing worth stealing, but that wouldn't prevent him from being waylaid and searched.

He stopped by the inn where they had been staying.  This building looked as deserted as the rest; the others were not here.  Most likely they were outside the city, where T'Sian had landed.  He hurried down the avenue, making furtive haste through the town.  The streets were unfamiliar, and he began to worry about getting lost.  He had been so tired the night of their arrival that the details of their route were fuzzy in his mind.  Most of the street lanterns had been snuffed or stolen, and the resulting darkness didn't make it any easier to find his way.  It did make it easier to hide from others, though, as when he encountered a man, tattered, armed, and obviously drunk, staggering along the middle of the road, cursing and muttering to himself.  Ponn stayed very still, keeping to the shadows until the fellow passed by.

He began walking again, and soon the lake came into view, black water reflecting glimmers of moonlight.  Now he knew where he was.  He continued on this route, keeping the lake in sight, until he came to the next major intersection.  He took the road that led to the west.  It curved gently to the left and then straightened as it neared the shore.  A wharf ran alongside it, too small for commerce, but suitable for tying up fishing skiffs and personal craft.  Shops built into the wharf sold bait and tackle, supplies for boats, netting, and the like; shanties and taverns dotted the other side of the street.