The Grieving Tree: The Dragon Below Book II Read online

  Be quiet! Dandra moved back a little further. Chain followed her keeping her within his reach.

  “What do you want?” she asked him.

  “You,” the big man said. He drew back his cudgel.

  Dandra slid away again—

  —and her back hit something hard and unyielding, one of the chimneys that had inspired Geth the night before. Chain had backed her up against it deliberately. A thin smile creased the man’s face. His cudgel slammed forward.

  Dandra released the force that kept her aloft, dropping instantly and crouching down even further. Chain’s blow passed just over her head to smash into the chimney pot. Sharp clay shards and crumbling mortar flew everywhere. Chain wheezed as a cloud of soot exploded into his face. Dandra pushed herself out from under him, jerking the butt of her spear up between his legs as she moved. Chain twisted to take the blow on his thigh, but his wheeze still turned into a hiss and he hopped back a pace.

  Dandra spun around the chimney, putting it between her and Chain. She could hear the harsh, excited shouts of the goblins in the street, the distant, frightened cries of Bava’s children, the curses of the people in the building under her as the commotion outside finally roused them. A voice came floating up the ruined chimney. Dandra winced at the anger in it. “Sorry!” she called down.

  “Bitch!” said Chain, his face blackened with soot. His cudgel whirled up. “You float, but you’re not getting off this roof unless you can fly!”

  All the rage that Dandra had felt for the man after meeting him yesterday came flooding back to her. She spread the fingers of one hand and thrust them at the chimney. A wave of vayhatana rippled from her hand, snatching up bricks and debris loosened by Chain’s blow and blasting them at him. The bounty hunter cursed and spun around to shield his face. The chunks of brick that rained against his broad back made him stagger.

  Dandra stepped onto the air and leaped over the remains of the chimney to fall on him as he turned back around. Her spear spun sharply and the butt cracked across his wrist. Chain yelped. His hand sprang open and his cudgel fell—but his other hand grabbed her arm. He dropped, rolling onto his back with a crash and dragging her with him. Caught off guard, Dandra flew over his head and slammed down hard onto the roof. She landed across the battered wooden platform. Planks splintered at the impact and pain arced through her back. The breath rushed out of her lungs. Her spear clattered down somewhere out of her reach.

  Chain twisted around without rising and kicked out with both feet. Dandra rolled at the last moment, trying to absorb the impact, but the blow was still powerful enough to send her tumbling across the platform. She grabbed at the broken wood before she could slide right off. Right at the edge of the roof, fighting through the pain and Tetkashtai’s terror, she forced herself up to her hands and knees as Chain strode forward.

  On the street below, the goblins were clustered around Bava’s door, pounding on it. A scattering of other people stood back on the mist-shrouded street, looking like they weren’t certain if they should get involved. No one was looking up at the rooftop.

  Dandra swung back to Chain. He wore a sneer on his unshaven face. “Who’s the best?” he demanded. One hand reached down to grab her collar and drag her up. The other pulled back, curled into a fist.

  The sudden roar that rose up from the street made both him and her look down to see Bava’s door swing open and Geth charge through like a raging beast. The shifter waded right into the middle of the packed goblins, clearing the way for Singe, Ashi, and Orshok to follow. The others had their weapons out, but it was Geth who drove the goblins before him with howls and curses. The little creatures fought back, though, shrieking and pressing forward. Dandra saw Geth slap one out of the air as it tried to leap over its fellows. He reached to his belt and swept out his sword, raising the weapon above his head with another roar.

  For a moment, all of the goblins seemed to freeze, their heads turning to stare at the jagged, heavy Dhakaani blade—then their shrieks turned into yelps and their press into a frenzy as they fought to flee. Chain’s eyes went wide with angry surprise. He opened his mouth and drew breath to shout at the scattering goblins.

  Dandra brought up her arms and drove both fists hard into the big man’s belly just below his ribs. It was like punching a wall—Chain’s muscles were solid—but the blow cut off his words. His shout became a strained grunt. His eyes turned back to her. “Bitch!” he hissed.

  She shifted, jerking a knee toward his crotch in a feint. He twisted to protect himself—and Dandra spun a web of vayhatana around his cudgel, lying forgotten on the roof. She wrenched on the weapon and it leaped into the air. Heavy, polished black wood slammed into Chain’s head with a satisfying thump. His eyes rolled back and he crumpled.

  Dandra heaved on his body, pushing him away from the edge of the roof. She panted and wiped her mouth as she stared down at him. “Dahr!” she spat.

  CHAPTER

  6

  A glance down into the street showed her the aftermath of the goblins’ sudden flight. Geth stood with his sword still raised, looking up at it in dumbfounded amazement. Ashi actually seemed annoyed that the fight was over before it had begun. Bava was just coming out of her door, hurrying to talk to the neighbors who rushed in now that the goblins were gone. Up and down the street, windows were open and people were staring out into the fading tatters of mist. Everyone was looking at the scene in the street, though Dandra could hear some of the people in the building under her feet complaining about noises on the roof.

  Singe was the only one looking up. “Dandra!” he shouted. “Dandra!”

  She leaned over the edge slightly and waved. Relief surged on his face and he sprinted for the alley at the side of the building.

  Dandra winced. They would be better off abandoning the roof, not putting more people on it. She looked at Chain, senseless at her feet. It was tempting to leave him, but if someone had hired him to track them down, they needed to find out more. They needed to get the bounty hunter away from here, though. She was reasonably certain that interrogating a member of House Tharashk in public wasn’t a good idea.

  Across the street, the doors on the balcony of Bava’s studio still stood open. Dandra stole another glance at the scene below. Singe was still the only one who had bothered to look up. She didn’t think that would last any longer than the morning mist. She stretched out her thoughts, reaching for Geth with kesh.

  Get back to Bava’s studio, she ordered him. Take Ashi. Hurry!

  The shifter started and glanced up, but Dandra didn’t wait to see if he followed her instructions. She turned back to Chain’s unconscious body. The air rippled as she wove an invisible net of vayhatana around him. Chain rose from the ground, arms dangling. Dandra clenched her teeth. Tetkashtai, I could use your help with this.

  The presence was still churning in fear at the fight. Dandra directed a mental slap at her. Tetkashtai!

  The presence shrank back. Dandra pulled her close, drawing on her more practiced control of their shared powers.

  Chain’s body turned and glided off the roof, drifting out over the street.

  Dandra waited for someone below to exclaim at the sight, but no one did. Letting out a slow breath, she guided the big man through the misty air and across into Bava’s studio. As soon as he was through the doors, she lowered him to the floor, then released her power with a gasp of exertion. Chain wouldn’t stay unconscious for long, she knew—hopefully Geth and Ashi would be quick about getting up to the studio. Spinning around, she snatched up both her spear and Chain’s cudgel, then hurried across the roof toward the gap of the alley. The ladder Bava had mentioned poked up above the roofline slightly. She peered down it.

  Singe was about halfway up, climbing quickly. “Singe!” she called softly. He looked up at her. She pointed down to the ground. “Go back down!”

  “What about Chain?”

  “I’ve taken care of him. Get down. We have to get back to Bava’s studio.”

  Sin
ge gave her a quizzical look, but started back down the ladder. Dandra took another look at the alley floor and drew a deep breath, focusing her concentration—then hopped over the edge.

  Chain had gotten one thing right: she couldn’t fly. But she could float very well. The open edge of the roof had never been as much of a danger to her as the big man had thought.

  The fabric of space whispered around her as she fell, easing her descent. Singe stared as she dropped past him and landed in an easy crouch. The wizard kicked off from the last few feet of the ladder and landed much more heavily. “I saw Chain hammering at you!” he said in amazement. “You could have gotten away from him whenever you wanted?”

  “Light of il-Yannah—run away from that bully?” She smiled at him—a smile that brought an aching twinge from her bruised face. She hissed in pain.

  Singe stared at her a moment longer, then wrapped his arms around her. She returned his embrace.

  Tetkashtai seethed at their touch, outrage breaking through her fear. Dandra let Singe go reluctantly. “Back to the studio,” she said. “We have someone to talk to.”

  In front of her door, Bava was talking to concerned neighbors, convincing them that the attack had been some kind of attempt at robbery by the goblin gang. Most of the neighbors seemed to accept the idea. Natrac had joined Bava to support her—the half-orc nodded at Dandra and Singe as they skirted the small crowd and slipped inside the house.

  Bava’s children were gathered on the second floor of the house under Orshok’s watchful eye. “It’s over,” Dandra told him.

  Orshok shook his head. “Bava told me she’d skin me if I left the children before she came back.”

  Singe laughed. “I’d believe her.”

  When they reached the studio, Chain was awake—and staring with angry eyes at the blades of Geth’s and Ashi’s swords. Both the hunter and the shifter looked more than ready to put sharp metal through him if he moved.

  “Careful with him,” Dandra told them. “He’s the best.”

  The big man’s wrists and ankles had been bound with shackles. Singe squatted down and examined the bonds. “Magewrought,” he said. He looked up at Geth. “Where did you find those?”

  “He was carrying them,” said Geth. “We searched him before he woke up.” He jerked his head at a small heap of gear on a table. “What did you do to him, Dandra?”

  She described Chain’s attack and their battle on the rooftop. Chain’s face turned red with rage as she spoke until he looked ready to jump in with his own version of events. A flick of Ashi’s sword kept him quiet, though. The Bonetree hunter nodded approval at Dandra’s tale. “A good fight.”

  “If it hadn’t been for Geth driving off the goblins, I don’t think it would have been over so quickly,” Dandra admitted. “How did you do that, Geth?”

  The shifter shook his head. “I don’t know. They just ran.” He held out the Dhakaani sword. “It didn’t feel like the sword did anything magical, but maybe it did. The only thing Batul could tell me about it is that the Dhakaani made it to fight daelkyr and their creations. Those were normal goblins—it shouldn’t have done anything to them.”

  “I think there’s more to that sword than meets the eye,” said Singe. He poked through Chain’s gear.

  Dandra leaned over to look at the pile. It contained a short sword, several small knives, a flat case that Singe opened to reveal lock picks, gloves, a spindle of cord spun with some metallic fiber, a few small pouches that gave off a rank odor, a couple of greasy sticks, and a small dark glass bottle. She added the man’s cudgel. Singe raised an eyebrow at the sight of it.

  “A densewood cudgel, tanglefoot bags, smokesticks, irontwist cord—you’re well-equipped, Chain,” he said. He picked up the bottle, frowned at it and pulled out the stopper to sniff carefully at its contents. He blinked and snorted as he closed it again. “It smells like week-old tea. What is this?”

  “Gaeth’ad essence,” said Natrac as he, Bava, and Orshok come up the stairs into the studio. “Bounty hunters use it to keep their prisoners docile until they can get them locked up. They say it’s especially good for keeping spellcasters restrained.”

  Singe’s eyes narrowed as he set the bottle down. “Really? I think it’s time we started asking some questions.” He sat down in front of Chain. “I doubt you carry shackles and gaeth’ad essence around on a regular basis. Someone hired you to find us. Maybe to capture us. Who was it?”

  Chain glared at him and said nothing. “I’ll take a guess,” Singe continued. “Vennet d’Lyrandar? Half-elf with long blond hair, gray coat with big silver buttons, dragonmark on the back of his neck, captain of an elemental galleon called Lightning on Water?” He tilted his head. “Maybe a man named Dah’mir? Tall, green eyes, wears a black leather robes with dragonshards set along the sleeves?”

  Chain’s eyes flickered, but he kept his mouth closed and his face remained hard. Singe pressed his lips together and looked up at Dandra. “I don’t suppose you can do that thing Medala did and inflict pain on someone through their mind?

  Dandra blinked. He knew she couldn’t duplicate Medala’s vicious power—just as she knew the wizard wouldn’t want it inflicted on someone else. Medala had tormented him with waves of phantom pain too many times when he was a prisoner of the Bonetree. He was trying to intimidate Chain, she realized. She shook her head, acting along. “No. I could burn him, though.” She reached for whitefire and the droning chorus of her fiery power throbbed on the air.

  Chain’s ears twitched at the sound and he swallowed—but his lips twisted into a self-assured smile. “Maybe you could,” he said. “But you wouldn’t. I know when I’m being played.”

  “Singe,” said Bava coldly, “let me do this.” The artist’s face was pale with rage and for the first time, the accent of the Marches was strong in her voice. She went over to the heap of Chain’s gear and selected two knives, examining their glittering edges as she pulled them from their sheaths. She turned around and looked down at Chain. “No one threatens my family.”

  She flipped one of the knives through her fingers with a frightening dexterity, then reached out to prod off the lid of a pigment jar. The knife dipped into the jar and emerged dusted with a green powder used for making paint. Bava wiped one side of the flat of the blade against her forehead, turning the paint into a savage smear, then stalked across the studio, knife held out.

  If she was playing Chain, she was doing a very good job of it. Dandra looked to Singe and Geth, but the men were frozen, their eyes nearly as wide as Chain’s. Ashi looked uncomfortable—the hunter was a fearless warrior, but Dandra knew she preferred offering her enemies a clean death. She didn’t like torture. “Cheo do doi, Bava?” she asked.

  “Doa at harano,” Bava said.

  At Dandra’s side, Singe whispered a translation. “I do it for honor.” His face was taut. “Twelve moons, I don’t like this.”

  Ashi’s face took on a grim cast. She stepped back out of Bava’s way. The large woman moved close to Chain and brought the knife close to his forehead. The bounty hunter’s hard expression trembled and his eyes crossed, trying to look up as Bava pressed the knife against his brow, marking him the same way she had marked herself.

  Then she took hold of one of Chain’s ears and stretched it away from his head. She settled the blade of the knife against the flesh where ear met scalp—

  “Vennet d’Lyrandar,” said Chain. His voice was steady but his body was tense. Dandra could tell it was taking all his willpower to maintain a cool demeanor.

  Bava’s knife didn’t rise from his ear, but she didn’t force it any lower, either. Chain’s eyes darted briefly sideways and up to where Bava stood. “Vennet hired me to track and find you,” he added quickly. “He introduced me to Dah’mir at the docks, but nothing more. As soon as Vennet approached me and described the people he wanted me to find, I recognized you. He didn’t know I’d already met you. I thought it would be easy money, but he’s not paying me to take torture.”
r />   “You could just be repeating names to keep us happy,” Singe pointed out. “Answer another one: why would Vennet hire you when he could look for us himself?”

  “He and Dah’mir were leaving Zarash’ak. After Vennet introduced me to Dah’mir, they both got in shallow-draft boat and put out into the river.”

  Dandra felt as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Dah’mir had left Zarash’ak. She saw Singe glance at Geth, however. The shifter’s eyes were narrow. “They left Zarash’ak?” he asked suspiciously. “Without looking for us?”

  “That’s what they hired me for,” snapped Chain. His voice rose into a sharp yelp as Bava gave a tug on his ear.

  “How did you find us here?” Dandra asked.

  Chain lifted his manacled arms to point at Natrac. “He introduced himself when we met, didn’t he? It was easy to find his house. An old servant there told me where to find you.”

  “Urthen!” Natrac curled his hand into a fist. “Dol Arrah turn away—Bava, save me an ear!”

  “No,” said Singe sharply. “No one’s going to cut anything off. Bava, let him go.”

  Bava released the bounty hunter with an obvious reluctance, twisting his ear hard and smacking him on the back of the head as she let go. “Come near my family again and no one’s going to save you,” she spat at him.

  Chain’s face twisted. “You don’t know who you’ve just made your enemy!”

  “Neither do you.” Bava flung down the knives. They stuck, quivering, in the floor on either side of Chain’s knees. She turned away. Natrac went after her. After a moment, Singe leaned forward.

  “I don’t suppose you’ll take more money to abandon the contract?” he asked.

  Chain glared up at him, his face hard, and snarled something in Goblin.

  “I didn’t think so.” Singe glanced at Geth and Dandra and flicked his head to the other side of the studio. They moved away from Chain, leaving Ashi and Orshok to watch him, and gathered around the table with the heap of the bounty hunter’s gear.