Ruin of Dragons Read online

  Petra didn't bother to look where he was pointing, only striding onward at a more determined clip. "Don't be paranoid," she said with a dismissive shake of her head. "There are a lot of people here." She grabbed his hand and increased her pace, leaving Rowan no choice but to face forward again, watching his path so as not to run into anyone while being dragged along. "Come on," she continued, "wherever that ship's landing is probably where we need to be heading."

  Rowan was having trouble breathing, being confronted with this much noise, color and movement all contained in such an enclosed area. He had never considered himself claustrophobic, but he had also never ventured far outside the open air of his hometown and was suddenly feeling himself pining for familiar surroundings.

  "How do you get anything done in a place like this?" he asked, finding it hard to concentrate on any one thing. "There's too much noise and … no space to breathe…"

  He could hear Petra laughing in front of him. "This is just the market," she said, as if that made it better. "The city center is farther south, but this is definitely where everything happens in this place. Don't worry, you'll get used to it. I did, and I've only been here a few times."

  Rowan wasn't so sure about that. "Just the market?" he said, impressed despite himself. They had already walked longer than it would have taken to cross Turic twice. He looked behind them, spotting what could have been the man from the cafe, but losing him behind a sudden column of steam from a kiosk grilling meat. "And are you sure that guy's not following us?"

  Petra stopped suddenly and he had to sidestep to avoid colliding into her. She spun around and stood there for a long minute, scanning the crowd. Rowan stood next to her, looking as well. It was difficult to pick out individual figures when nearly everything was in motion. He was beginning to wonder if he had imagined it. Petra smiled. "Welcome to the big city," she said. "Everyone follows you. Mostly to make sure you haven't spent all your money yet."

  "Have you?" a loud voice called from between them as a pair of strong hands came down on both their shoulders. Startled, both Petra and Rowan spun to see a young man with wavy brown hair and a thin beard smiling broadly at both of them. "Because I'd like to interest you in a new—"

  "Bran!" Petra shouted, throwing her arms around his neck. Rowan took an involuntary step back out of the man's reach, realizing that this was the man Petra had told him about. This was also the same man he had seen following them from the cafe.

  "Yeah, that's him," Rowan said, nodding. The man laughed, stepping back from Petra to look her over. "Been a long time, stork. Bit far from home this time of day, aren't we?"

  Rowan coughed, bringing Petra back to the present. "Oh! Sorry, where are my manners," she said, turning to Rowan. "This is Branson Tachett, the one I was telling you about."

  Rowan gave a polite smile. "I gathered," he said, offering Bran his hand. "Rowan Hayden, nice to meet you."

  Bran turned to Rowan and grasped his hand warmly. "Likewise," he said. Glancing sideways at Petra, he added, "Thought he'd be taller."

  Petra elbowed him in the ribs. "I'm glad you're here," she said. "I thought we'd have to scour the shipyards to find you."

  "Lucky I found you first, then," Bran said. "What brings you to this neck of the woods, anyway?"

  "We're looking for a group of dragonhunters."

  Bran frowned. "Isn't it a bit late for that? Heard one made ground in your area a day or two ago—"

  "Yes, that was us," Petra interrupted, "and they've already been and gone. What I need to find out is where they went."

  "That … might be a bit of a challenge," Bran said. "They didn't leave a forwarding address?"

  "Sorry, I didn't get to talk much," Petra said. "I was too busy trying not to get eaten."

  Bran frowned. "Dragons don't eat people—"

  "Bran," Petra cut in, a serious look on her face.

  "Sorry."

  "There was a wizard on the team," Petra continued. "He's the one I need to find."

  It was Bran's turn to look surprised. "You met a wizard, too? You did have an interesting day—"

  "Bran."

  "Sorry," he said, starting to recognize her impatience. "Look, I don't know what to tell you. Boone hasn't had dragon activity for centuries, so whatever dragonhunters you saw likely came in from off world."

  "That's what I was afraid of," Rowan said.

  "Were they Kingsguard?" Bran asked.

  "What?" Petra hadn't heard the term before.

  "Kingsguard," Bran repeated. "It's a defense organization, part of the Sanctuary network; most dragonhunter groups are either part of it or contracted by it."

  Petra shook her head. "I don't know, maybe?"

  "Because that would be your best place to start," Bran offered. "There's a field office on Barrast, a couple planets over."

  Petra grimaced, looking at Rowan, who shrugged in return. "Yeah … see that's the thing," she said, turning back to Bran. "We have no way to get there, and we don't really have the money to pay for passage, if that's even an option." She frowned, looking off into the distance. "I didn't exactly think this through."

  "Well, you couldn't book passage from here anyway," Bran said. "The port in this town is just a shipping depot. Commercial flights off world go through Bastion, and you definitely can't afford that."

  "Bastion?" Rowan said, his face falling. "That's on the other side of the continent. It took us all afternoon just to get here."

  "Relax," Bran said, smiling. "There's a merchant ship leaving out tonight going to Barrast as part of its regular run. I know the captain; I work as part of his crew off and on and I can probably get you aboard."

  Petra felt a fresh surge of hope and turned to Rowan. His eyes were wide as well, but there was no mistaking the wariness in them.

  "It's a start," she said.

  "Are you kidding?" Rowan replied. "It's more than I was expecting."

  "Come on," Bran said, grabbing Petra by the arm and leading her back into the crowd. "I'll take you. They should still be loading cargo." Rowan stepped quickly behind and they were on the move again, ducking around people, between carts and under awnings.

  "How did you find me so quickly, anyway?" Petra asked.

  "Magic," Bran said with a smirk, and Rowan felt a small amount of delight when Petra rolled her eyes. "I was eating at that sidewalk cafe back there when you and farmboy walked by," he continued, shrugging. "You're kinda hard to miss."

  "Farmboy?" Rowan said.

  "No offense. So why are you trying to find this wizard?"

  "It's … a long story," Petra admitted.

  Bran looked at her for a moment, apparently deciding it wasn't worth pressing. "Fair enough."

  They continued on, eventually making it to the other end of the stretch, and soon the open-air shops started to thin out, leaving them walking along a fairly wide thoroughfare, with single level buildings collected along both sides.

  They turned right at the next major interchange, the street stretching out in front of them, sloping downward as it approached the edge of town and the wide river that bordered the west end. They could see the shapes of large buildings in the distance, the warehouses in the shipping district, and the masts of the vessels moored at the docks. Foot traffic decreased as they traveled farther from the city center, and the sky shifted from steel blue to a warm gold as the sun neared the horizon.

  They walked in silence, finally reaching and passing through the row of warehouses that lined the dock. They rounded a corner and stepped out onto a large flat space, surrounded by low pylons with flashing red lights, the near edge lined with square stacks of brown and gray shipping containers.

  In the center of the space sat the ponderous bulk of a heavy freight carrier, a large boxy vessel with four downturned engines at each corner. The size of a four-level building, it was surrounded by a frantic ground
crew scurrying around reloading fuel lines, checking engine systems and moving floating palettes of shipping containers toward the rear. The cargo bay door was most of the back end of the ship, opened out and up, revealing a cavernous interior behind a long loading ramp at the mouth of the opening.

  Teams of two guided the floating palettes up the ramp and down into the recess of the bay, forming three lines of stacked containers, dropping the palettes and locking them to the floor as they reached their spot in line.

  "That thing flies?" Rowan asked, an awed tone in his voice. Despite the fact that crews were clearly prepping the vessel for departure, it did not give the impression of being something that left the ground easily.

  Bran shrugged. "Mostly," he said. "Wait here." He walked off toward the front of the ship, leaving the two to stand and watch the ground crews work. Petra was fascinated. She had seen carriages pull into town carrying containers similar to these, but they were much smaller and always loaded and unloaded by hand. She had never seen an operation of this scope before. Several minutes passed and the stacks of containers lined up along the edge of the landing pad slowly disappeared into the back of the open ship.

  "This is a bad idea," Rowan said finally, cutting into Petra's thoughts.

  She didn't move but continued to watch. "Do you have a better one?"

  "Yeah," Rowan said. "We go home."

  Movement caught her eye, and Petra turned to see Bran making his way back across the open space, heading their direction.

  "Too late for that," she said.

  He stepped up in front of Petra, a slight scowl in his expression, and her face fell. His pause told her everything before he opened his mouth.

  "No go," he said. "Captain's not willing to take on passengers this run, he's already behind schedule."

  Petra felt a weight settle in the pit of her stomach. She had put all her hopes on this one path, and despite the fact that she had hastily thrown herself down it, with the full knowledge that her chances were slim to begin with, it was still crushing to see that path evaporate in front of her. She stood there a moment longer, continuing to watch the loading crew lead palettes of shipping containers onboard. She set her jaw, refusing to give up.

  "That's it?" she said, turning to Bran. "You didn't try very hard, did you? Let me talk to him." She stepped off toward the front of the ship, but Bran grabbed her arm and turned her back around.

  "You don't want to do that, trust me," he said as the engines on the ship started firing, sending blasts of hot air washing over them. Bran was starting to look impatient, and Petra shook her head, suddenly not wanting to waste more time arguing when it was clear he was finished. "Look," he continued, his expression softening. "I'm sorry I couldn't do more."

  Petra exhaled, looking at the ground. "Thanks for trying, anyway," she said, then looked back up, attempting a smile.

  "I gotta go," Bran said. "Catch you next time, stork."

  "It was good seeing you again," Petra said.

  "Good luck," he said, grasping her shoulders then turning to leave. Nodding at Rowan, he walked the opposite direction, heading toward the landing pad's control tower.

  Petra watched him walk away. "Damn," she said, turning to Rowan. "I thought that would work."

  "So that's it, then?"

  "No, of course not," she said, grabbing his arm and dragging him along behind her. "Come on, I've got an idea."

  "Wha—" Rowan was startled, nearly losing his balance, but quickly got his feet under him and hurried to keep up.

  They dashed along the outer edge of the landing pad until they were directly behind the open end of the ship, stopping behind one of the signal pylons. Peeking around the edge, she watched as the landing crew disengaged lines from the side of the vessel, the last of the floating container palettes locked down against the bay floor and the loading ramp began retracting back into the body of the ship.

  "Look," Petra said. "The gate's still open, the loading crew's leaving."

  Rowan looked at her, his mouth dropping open. "Wait, you want to sneak onboard? Isn't that illegal?" He leaned closer, his voice shrill. "Are you trying to get us killed?"

  Petra wasn't hearing it. "We don't have much time." She darted out and started to make a dash for the ship. "Come on!"

  But Rowan didn't follow. "No!" he yelled after her. "This is stupid!"

  Petra turned back, grabbing his arms. "Are you seriously going to make me do this on my own?" she asked, looking back at the ship. The loading bay gate was still up. "I need your help. Please."

  Rowan looked up into her eyes, and there was such a fierce desperation there that he couldn't hang on to his objection for very long. He sighed. "Fine. This is still a bad idea," he said, taking a deep breath and stepping out from behind the pylon.

  Hanging on to Petra's hand, the two bolted out into the open, sprinting for the rear of the ship. The engines had warmed, and the two were beginning to get battered by an increasing barrier of heated wind. A sharp crack drew their attention, and Petra looked up to see the loading bay gate beginning to close. It shuddered and creaked and clearly wasn't in any hurry, but it looked heavy enough to crush them both without hesitation, and Petra somehow moved faster.

  "Petra?" Rowan's voice called out from behind her.

  "I know!" she said, pulling him closer as they made it to the base of the opening, affording them somewhat of a shelter from the vortex of air currents. The loading ramp, however, had already retracted and the leading edge of the bay opening was just out of reach above Petra's head.

  "I need a boost!" she said, gesturing Rowan around beside her. He cupped his hands and she stepped up, steadying herself against his shoulder as she straightened out, bringing her head and shoulders up level with the edge of the bay floor. Getting a handhold, she pushed herself up and scrambled the rest of the way inside. She quickly spun around and dropped to her stomach, dangling her arms out and down, trying her best not to pay attention to the bay gate that was at least halfway closed already.

  "Come on," she urged as Rowan jumped up, grabbing hold of her wrists. She cried out at the sharp stab of pain as his sudden weight pulled against her shoulders, but she hung on, trying to lift him upward and struggling against his surprising weight.

  Rowan pulled himself up as best he could, reached out with his right hand to grab onto the lip of the bay floor while Petra shifted both of her hands to his left. With some of his weight eased off, she was able to get her legs under her and bring herself up into a sort of crouch, leaning back and using her weight to help pull upward.

  The bay door creaked ever closer, but only Rowan's head was even with the opening, and his legs kicked out to the sides, trying to find a brace. "I can't get a foothold," he said, panic starting to show on his face.

  "You can do it," Petra said, leaning into it. Rowan found a ledge to push against and moved his right hand over to get a better grip, but as his balance shifted, he lost his foothold in the process, dropping him down suddenly.

  "No!" Petra shouted as the sudden weight yanked his left arm free and she found herself falling backwards into the bay.

  "Petra!" Rowan called out as he disappeared from sight, falling out and down to the cement of the landing pad below. His shout came to an abrupt end as the loading bay gate finally came to a close with an impact that rumbled through the ship and cut off all sound from the outside world.

  Petra sat stunned for a moment, wide eyed. She was startled by a loud clanking sound that repeated at several points around the edge of the gate as locking mechanisms bolted into place, followed by a long hiss as it sealed shut. A deep hum could be felt through the floor, and it rose in intensity along with a steady vibration that made Petra's teeth rattle. The floor shook and bucked beneath her, finally pressing upward against her as the ship lifted off from the landing pad.

  "Oh hell."

  underworld

/>   "Thought I might find you in here," Mira said, walking into Vermithrax's lower port engine maintenance alcove. A small room little more than a crawlway along the side of the reactor housing, she found Voss wedged into the back corner, neck deep in the coolant interchange conduits. She was tinkering with flow control, recalibrating the chemical mixture to be more in line with the other three engines. The maintenance crew on Avernus had replaced a faulty junction while repairing the port stabilizers that had been damaged by the dragon during the extraction on Boone, but like any good mechanic, Voss had already put in a lot of time fine tuning the other engines and was now having to adjust around the repairs to match. Mira stepped up to where Voss's jumpsuited legs stuck out from underneath a mess of piping that snaked in from overhead and lowered herself down to the floor grating to sit cross legged beside.

  "Am I that predictable?" Voss said, sliding out and sitting up.

  "Not always," Mira half smiled, handing over the water bottle that sat nearby. "You want to talk about whatever that was back there?"

  "Not really," Voss said, taking a drink as she stared at the floor. She was silent for a moment, then looked up. "You've known me for four years, Mira. Have you ever thought of me as anything other than what you've seen here?"

  Mira was thrown slightly by the use of her actual name, and she looked closely at Voss's face, noticing the concern etched into the creases between her eyebrows. "You mean have I ever wondered what you were before?" Mira said, trying to be comforting. She rarely saw Voss bothered like this. "The thought had crossed my mind. But don't we all have secrets? This is a motley ship of fools, after all. Aris doesn't talk about his life in the Ranger Corps, Gareth comes from a planet nobody's ever seen, and I…"

  "You've already told me your secrets," Voss finished.

  But Mira surprised her by looking away, her voice distant. "Not the really painful ones," she said.

  Voss relaxed slightly, seeing in the elf what she herself was likely projecting. She leaned forward and reached over, turning Mira's face back toward hers. "Which I'm sure you'll share when you're ready," Voss said.