Ruby Dragon Page 3

  A good bargaining technique, but Tonio would never turn his back on Biter. Ever.

  A strangled growl broke from Biter’s throat. His blade flashed as he lunged for the Mage’s back. The mage spun, a plume of green mage fire erupting from his hands. Biter flew onto his backside, his blade skittering across the warehouse floor.

  “Pathetic,” the mage scoffed. “The great leader of the Bloody Knives flat on his rump.” He tugged the horse, making for the door. A knife whistled past his head, thunking into the warehouse wall.

  A fireball sizzled from the mage’s hand, hitting a Bloody Knife in the gut. The man screamed, his belly smoking. The Knives swarmed the wagon, snarling thugs thrusting their daggers and swords at the mage.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Sam whispered.

  “What about the egg?” Tonio asked. They couldn’t let Renath’s baby burn.

  “No chance now.”

  They scrambled across the floorboards, thuds and bellows ringing from below. Green flashes penetrated gaps, lighting up the attic. The stench of burned flesh wafted up.

  Sam clambered up the rope. Tonio followed, dangling to kick the shutters closed. The wind caught a shutter, and it slammed, a boom echoing through the alley. A door crashed open below. Yells rang out. Tonio scrabbled with his feet against the building as Sam hoisted him onto the roof. They unhooked the rope from the chimney and ran.

  The muted swish of dragon wings beat above them, ruffling their hair. “Shall I signal the guards and let them know where the egg is?” Tonio asked.

  “Nah.” Sam yanked Tonio across the rooftops in the dark. “I have a better idea.”

  §

  Sam and Tonio stopped in the peach grove, panting under a heavily-laden bough.

  “Let’s find Taren and collect our reward,” Tonio said.

  Sam shook his head. “How much did he say he’d pay for information?”

  “Three silvers. Two dragon heads for the egg.”

  Sam’s teeth flashed in the dark. “Neither will be enough. The tonic is now four.”

  Tonio sighed. “Better than nothing.”

  “It’ll take us moons to make up the rest, and your ma doesn’t have moons. But if we lure the gangs into brawling, we could steal the egg and charge Master Taren four dragon heads.”

  Tonio sucked in his breath. A gang brawl. “You’re mad, but it could work.”

  “Course it will. First, let’s earn some coin off the Stalkers. You happy to visit them tonight?”

  “And tell them about the egg?”

  “Nah, just about the mage,” Sam whispered. “That’s news enough. Tomorrow we’ll make a few potater deliveries. The Bloody Knives have to eat too.”

  They bumped fists and departed into the dark.

  The Shadow Stalkers

  Tonio crept down the alley to the Shadow Stalkers’ lair, furtively glancing above. No one was on the rooftops or wrought iron balconies. He tugged the hood of his cloak over his face, and rapped on the door.

  It opened a crack. A Stalker stuck his nose out.

  Tonio nodded to the Stalker, then strode to a small piazza. He waited in the shadows, resting against talons of a dragon sculpture’s outstretched forearm.

  Soon, footsteps approached. “What is it?” Half-Ear hissed. The gang leader had come in person.

  Tonio stood, thrusting his chest out. “There’s someone in town you might be interested in.”

  Half-Ear snorted. “That’s old news. My stooges are already wise to Master Taren.” The whites of leader’s eyes gleamed in the dark as he scrutinized Tonio.

  A sliver of cold trickled between Tonio’s shoulder blades, but he held Half-Ear’s gaze unflinchingly. “Not that braggart. He tried to pin a scam on me, but had no proof.” He let himself smirk. “Someone else.”

  Half-Ear’s tongue darted over his bottom lip like a viper about to strike. “Who?”

  Tonio raised an eyebrow. “What’s it worth?”

  “Couple of silvers. One now. One after—if it’s valuable news.” Something flashed in Half-Ear’s hand. A silver arced through the air, spinning and catching the light from a distant street lamp.

  Tonio caught it.

  The next flash was a blade. Half-Ear shoved a dagger against Tonio’s ribs. “Spill your news, or I’ll spill your guts.”

  Tonio gave what he hoped was a disarming smile. “A strange mage has been visiting the Bloody Knives.”

  Half-Ear focused on him like a predator about to bite. Another silver caught the lamplight.

  Tonio snatched that one too, and pocketed them both. “They’re plotting to fight you at dusk tomorrow in the piazza by the sea dragon fountain.”

  The whopping great egg was a minor detail that no one needed to know about.

  “Are they, now?” Half-Ear flipped Tonio an extra silver, and stalked off, his boots striking the stone cobbles.

  Tonio waited in the shade of the sculpture until the Stalkers’ door thudded, then shimmied up a drainpipe and scarpered over the roofs.

  When he got home, there was no sign of Marius. No drunken snores in the bedroom next door. He slipped into Ma’s room and sat by her bed. Her breath was as light as gossamer. Tonio patted her thin, bony hand. He tried to swallow the rock lodged in his throat, but it was impossible.

  When the chill night sunk through his skin, biting into his bones, Tonio slunk off to bed and hugged his pillow, staring into the dark.

  §

  When Tonio woke the next morning, Marius still wasn’t home—probably sleeping it off at the Boar and Brisket. Sighing, Tonio made Ma a breakfast she barely touched. Then he turned the horses out to pasture and mucked out their stalls. Once he was done, he checked Ma again, watching her chest barely move with whispered breaths.

  He rushed into town.

  Green guards flapped above the narrow city lanes. When they spotted him, they whirled in midair and shot off. Soon Renath’s ruby scales flashed above him. She landed in a piazza, blocking his exit. Amato and Matotoi landed behind her. Master Taren dismounted and strode over. He slammed Tonio against a wall.

  The brick facade jabbed Tonio’s shoulders. That made two times in two days. “Can’t we just shake hands or something?”

  “This morning we found a dead mage among a grove of strongwoods behind the cartwright’s,” Taren ground out. “You were spotted there yesterday. What were you up to?”

  Tonio’s stomach lurched. He’d never expected the mage to end up dead. “I was fetching bear leek for the apothecary,” he spluttered. “You can ask him.”

  Master Taren clicked his fingers. Amato and Matotoi rose into the air and flew over the rooftops toward the market. Renath must’ve mind-melded with Matotoi and passed on Taren’s order.

  Beyond Master Taren, there was movement on a rooftop—Sam making his way to a drainpipe.

  Moments later, Sam strolled along an alley into the piazza. “Having a meeting, are we?” He leaned against the wall next to Tonio and winked at the spymaster. “Mighty friendly manner you have there.” His eyes roamed over Taren’s hands on Tonio’s shoulders. “I’d hate to see how you treat your enemies.”

  The spymaster straightened, removing his hands. “There’s been a murder. A mage was found near the river, his throat slit and left earlobe missing. Any idea who did it?”

  Sam raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like the Stalkers.”

  Taren snarled at Sam. “From what I’ve heard, missing earlobes are the Bloody Knives’ trademark.”

  Brilliant. Sam was taking the heat off the Knives so he and Tonio could get the egg.

  Tonio piped up, “The Shadow Stalkers also cut earlobes so they can blame their crimes on the Knives.” True enough.

  “We’ll keep our ears to the ground,” Sam chimed in, his face deadpan. “And keep looking for that egg.”

  “Matotoi just mind-melded with Renath. The apothecary confirmed your claim.” Master Taren narrowed his eyes. “Heard anything useful yet?”

  Tonio shrugged. “We’re meetin
g someone to find out more,” he lied. “We’ll let you know.”

  He and Sam hustled down the alley, sidestepping Renath, leaving the spymaster staring after them.

  Green dragons wheeled overhead, swooping over the buildings. Sam leaned in. “Think they’re following us?”

  “I’d bet on it.” Tonio snorted. “Well, I would if I had any money left. Flaming Marius.”

  Sam sighed. “Marius spent it all at the Boar. He’s still there, passed out under the table.”

  “Have you seen Biter?” Tonio whispered.

  “He’s taken the bait. The Knives will fight the Stalkers at dusk. Now for phase two of our plan.”

  “By the dragon gods, Sam. I visited the Stalkers last night. Told them about the mage. No matter who killed him, it’s partly our fault.”

  Sam shrugged. “We didn’t slit the mage’s throat. Or leave him in the flaming river. You only sold information. Whatever the Knives or Stalkers did is on them.”

  Tonio nodded, despite the hollow pit in his gut. He half-wished it was Marius at the bottom of the river, not the mage.

  They strode to Sam’s potater stand.

  “About time you showed up.” Sam’s father stepped out from behind his stall, frowning. “Where have you been?”

  “Busy,” Sam replied, grabbing a hand barrow heaped with potaters.

  His father thrust a bundle of sacks into Tonio’s arms. “Mind you don’t drop any taters—or bruise them.” Sam’s pa rattled off a list of names and addresses.

  Sam nodded, then Sam and Tonio strode off with the sacks and the laden barrow.

  “Great,” Tonio groaned. “Now we’re stuck doing deliveries all day.”

  “One of our customers lives near the Knives’ hideout,” Sam said. “We’ll time that delivery for when the Knives are brawling. Everything will work out.”

  It had to. Tonio had no other way to help Ma.

  The Bloody Knives

  As dusk fell, they were only an alley away from the Knives’ headquarters. Tonio gestured at the potaters in the bottom of Sam’s barrow. “Think they’ll fall for our plan?”

  Before Sam could answer, boots sounded on cobbles through the deepening dusk —a group was moving through the street at the alley’s mouth. Sam stowed his barrow behind a well and scrambled into a shadowy doorway.

  Tonio climbed a drainpipe. He crept over shingles, dropped to his belly and peered down.

  Biter was leading the Knives through the street. Tonio counted at least twenty. The Knives were armed heavily with blades at their hips and twin swords across their backs. Their dark shadows loomed against the surrounding buildings as they split up and crept down alleys in groups of two or three.

  When his gang had dispersed, Biter glanced around, then hurried after them.

  Tonio shimmied back down the drainpipe to the alley.

  Sam hefted his barrow. “What did you see?”

  “Twenty Knives, armed to the hilt, sneaking towards the brawl site.”

  They bumped knuckles. “It worked,” Sam said. “They’ll fight first, think later. By then, we’ll have the egg money and your ma will be cured.”

  If only it were that simple.

  They scurried to the back of the Bloody Knives’ hideout.

  “Good luck, Sam. Wait until I’m in before you knock,” Tonio whispered. He shimmied up the rear drainpipe, tied a rope around the chimney and lowered himself into the attic.

  Through the gap in the floorboards, he spied one Bloody Knife. Good. Tonio sneaked across the floorboards, eased himself halfway down the loft ladder, and waited in the shadows.

  The lone Knife was whistling tunelessly as he ladled a cup of tea from his billy on the hearth, muscles cording his forearms. A cauldron of broth bubbled next to the tea. Beyond the Knife, an egg-shaped lump, covered in hay, sat in the mage’s wagon.

  The fine aroma of lamb broth reached Tonio’s nose, making his stomach growl.

  The guard set his cup on the table and glanced about. “Who’s there?”

  Tonio froze, his forehead breaking out in sweat.

  Pounding came from the back door.

  The guard stalked to the door. “What do you want?” he snarled, a blade gleaming in his hand.

  Tonio darted down the ladder, sneaked behind some barrels and edged towards the guard’s tea.

  “Fresh-dug taters.” Sam’s muffled voice came through the door. “Going cheap.”

  The guard grunted and opened the door. “How cheap?”

  Tonio ducked behind the table and fished a pouch of woozy weed from his pocket. Flame it, his hands were shaky.

  “Too expensive,” the guard growled.

  As Sam and the guard haggled, Tonio stirred woozy weed powder into the guard’s tea.

  The thug tossed some coin at Sam and snatched a half-full sack of taters. Tonio darted behind the barrels and crouched down by the wall. The lone Knife slammed the door, the echo reverberating through the warehouse.

  The guard chopped up his potatoes and threw them in the broth. Gods, this was taking forever. The man strolled toward Tonio’s barrels and stooped.

  A trickle of sweat ran into Tonio’s eye. Palming his blade, he waited.

  The thug snatched an onion from a basket on top of a barrel, and took it back to the table. The Knife chopped the onion into the broth, blade flashing.

  Tonio’s legs were cramping by the time the thug drank his tea, leaned back in his chair and dozed off.

  Once the man’s snores were soaring through the warehouse, Tonio rushed to open the back door.

  Sam pushed his barrow inside. “Phew, that took ages. Quick, the Knives will be back any moment.”

  More sweat slithered down Tonio’s back. He clambered onto the wagon and thrust his hands into the hay. Where was the egg?

  “Hurry,” said Sam.

  Tonio was up to his elbows in hay. His gut clenched. “It’s not here, Sam. Only hay.”

  “Don’t be daft. Course it is.” Sam’s eyes were panicked. He jumped onto the wagon and rummaged through the hay. “We’ve got to find it.”

  “Maybe they moved it?” Tonio suggested.

  They scarpered to a stack of crates in the corner and pried up the lids. No egg.

  “Could it be in one of those?” Tonio waved his hand at a row of barrels and kegs against the wall.

  “They’ll kill us if they catch us. Quick!”

  Tonio rushed over and tapped a barrel. It echoed hollowly. “Empty.”

  Sam knocked on another. “This one too.” He ran to the next and tapped it. “Empty too.”

  Whatever the Knives were next up to, it involved a stockpile of empty barrels.

  Tonio rushed to the kegs and knocked on one. “Full.” He tilted it. Liquid sloshed inside. “Probably wildfire liquor.” He ran to the next keg. It sloshed too. When Tonio tilted another keg, something thudded inside. “Sam!”

  The drugged Knife groaned. They froze until he slumped back, snoring.

  Using his blade, Tonio pried the lid off the keg. Inside was the hay-strewn egg, its bloody veins gleaming.

  Sam tipped the remaining taters from the barrow, then Tonio padded it with hay. They lifted the keg and slid the egg into the barrow. That poor dragonet—shunted from wagon to keg to barrow. Hopefully it hadn’t been harmed. Tonio covered the egg with his cloak and tucked the ends into the barrow, and they piled potatoes on top.

  “Let’s get out of here.” They pushed the barrow to the back door, wheels creaking, and into the street.

  Outside, dragons roared and flame lit up the night sky over the piazza where the gangs were brawling.

  §

  Tonio awoke on cool hard floorboards, Marius’s snores rumbling through Ma’s wall. Last night, they’d smuggled the egg in through Ma’s open window. Marius had arrived home before Tonio could hide it, so he’d stuffed it under Ma’s bed and crawled under the bed too.

  His step-brother had stormed through the house, but not even looked in on Ma.

  So f
ar, so good.

  Tonio patted the egg. A faint hum ran along its shell, tickling his fingers. He rubbed it for luck, clambered out and sat beside Ma, holding her hand.

  She gazed at him through watery eyes, cheeks gaunt. “Tonio, please stay home,” she whispered, “or Marius will beat you.”

  He had to go out. There was no point in bringing the egg home if she couldn’t profit from it. Besides, he and Sam had unleashed hell in Naobia last night. He had to find out what had gone down. He kissed Ma, then sneaked out her window.

  Green guards were perched on roofs near the outskirts of Naobia. More dragons circled the square. Tonio ducked down little-used alleys to get to the sea dragon fountain.

  Sam was already there, pacing. His eyes flitted to cobbles stained dark red.

  “Anyone die?” Tonio asked.

  “No, but the infirmary’s bursting.” Sam stopped pacing and shook his head. “I was so focused on the you-know-what that I didn’t really think it through.”

  “Neither did I,” said Tonio.

  Master Taren stepped from an archway into the piazza, nostrils flaring like a dragon scenting a kill. He grabbed Tonio by the scruff of the neck. “What didn’t you think through?”

  Tonio just stared.

  “I thought you were desperate for coin.” Taren loosed Tonio and pulled his dagger from its sheath, twirling it in his fingers.

  Sam nodded. “Go on, Tonio, tell him everything.”

  The blade spun in the spymaster’s fingers, a whisper away from Tonio’s belly.

  “We found the egg,” Tonio blurted.

  “Where?” The word shot from the spymaster’s mouth like an arrow.

  Tonio flinched and took a step back. “I need more coin. The price of Ma’s healing tonic went up. For four dragon heads, your dragon can have her baby back.”

  Renath shot out of the sky and landed in the piazza. She snarled, gusting flame at Tonio’s boots, driving him up against a wall.

  The spymaster’s blade pricked Tonio’s throat. “You’d dare withhold a dragon’s offspring for a few lousy dragon heads?” His words scorched Tonio’s conscience.