Draka

When I stumbled into the camp Makanna was the first to see me. She dropped the piece of wood she'd been whittling and said, "Mercies! What happened to you?"

"Fought a troll," I groaned. The two batterings I'd received were really catching up to me once the adrenaline high was gone. "I won."

By then Herald and Tamor had arrived and started fussing over me, directing me to a spot to lay down.

"How did that happen?" Makanna said, the concern in her eyes now clouded by suspicion.

"I saw an opening and I took it.” I was too wrung out to try and keep her happy.

Makanna's face thundered over, but before she had a chance to say anything Herald preempted her, her eyes shining.

"You cannot say something like that and not tell us the story! I want a blow-by-blow!"

I was tired, but how could I refuse her when she was so excited? Fighting down the pain, I gave them a somewhat abridged version, only leaving out my shadow magic. I still felt vaguely guilty about that. When I'd finished Makanna looked almost defeated. She slumped where she sat, looking as tired as I felt.

"Damn it, Draka!" she said, but there was as much concern as anger in her eyes. "Of all the irresponsible–"

She caught a hard look from Herald and swallowed whatever she'd been about to say.

"You know what?" she said instead. "I'm sorry. You took a big risk, but it paid off. You got rid of a threat, with no risk to me or the rest of my family. So, thank you for that. I keep forgetting what you are."

"How do you mean?" I asked her, worried that something nasty was coming.

"You're… you can do things like that. Fight a monstrous bear and survive. Kill a troll by yourself–"

"A small troll."

"Fine, yes. A small troll. You killed a small troll by yourself, while you were still hurt from our last fight. My point is that I can't think of you like any other member of my team. I can't worry about you the same way. But that's easy to forget, because despite…" she gestured at me broadly, "you speak and often act like you were just some foreign woman five years my junior." She sighed. "I'll try to do better."

I wasn't sure what to say. "You worry about me?" I managed after a long moment.

"Of course I do! We may not be close, but you're a member of my team and my sister's closest friend. What did you think?"

"I don't know? I guess I never thought you cared much either way.” But of course the Team Mom would care about me on some level. "When you put it like that… sorry, I guess? I'll try to be a little more careful."

"I'd appreciate that," she said with a small, tired smile. "Keep on being you, just please don't try to fight any more trolls on your own."

"No risk of that.” I lay down properly with a groan. Tamor insisted on washing the blood from my head. And neck. And shoulders, a bit. I’d really gotten in there.

I still patrolled during the next few days and made sure to keep an eye on the ruins when the trolls left in the mornings, but I didn't want to move too much if I couldn't set the pace myself. Valmik was up and moving carefully by the evening of the day that I killed Tiny, and we returned to the original camp. He was doing some slow exercises with his arms the day after that, and felt fighting fit on the third day. Fed on a steady diet of meat hunted by Herald, his recovery was amazing to see, even after what I'd seen from Garal and Makanna. I asked Makanna not to waste her strength on me out of some kind of self-flagellation, but she badgered me until I caved.

One night, as the others slept, I told Makanna, “You were right.”

"Hmm?"

"You were right. The thing with Tiny? The troll, I mean. Fighting her on my own was irresponsible, and I knew it. I don't know why I did it."

"Pride, probably," Makanna said matter of factly. "You're like Lalia in that way. Overestimating yourself." Then she snorted. It was a surprisingly cute sound, coming from her. "Though in this case, I guess you estimated yourself very accurately."

"Like Lalia, huh? I'll take that as a compliment, coming from you, Makanna."

"It was. And call me Mak, would you? Makanna isn't even my real name, it's just what's on the census rolls."

"Uh, yeah, sure, Mak. But really? How come?"

Mak poked at the ground with a stick for a while, then said, "You know how we came to Karakan, right?"

"Kind of. You were… refugees, I guess?"

"Pretty much. There wasn't a Tekereteki community here. There still isn't. Except for some people passing through, the three of us are it. Our parents wanted us to fit in as well as we could so, when we were officially allowed to stay, Makanarata became Makanna and Tamotonoro became Tamor. Sounds similar to the local names, you see."

"Yeah, sure. I've heard of similar things. What about Herald, though?"

Mak smirked. "There's a tradition among our people that when a new colony is established, the birth of the first girl marks the true beginning of a community. Since we were it for the Tekereteki in Karakan… it was supposed to be symbolic, I guess. She heralded a new, better time for us, something like that. I always thought it was dumb, but Herald doesn't seem to mind."

“Makes it hard to give her a nickname, though,” I pointed out. The first syllables of her name in Karakani, on their own, meant something… well, rude was a good start. “Unless she’ll be okay with everyone calling her ‘Kitten’ like Tamor – Tam – does.”

“It’s your head if you want to try.”

A little later she said, “About this whole job, or expedition, or whatever it is now. Are you sure you’re satisfied with a fifth share?”

That caught me completely off guard. “Where did that come from? Why wouldn’t I be?”

“When we dealt with the slavers you got the same share as all of us four combined,” she pointed out.

“Sure, yeah. Rallon offered and I accepted.”

“And you’re a dragon. Your… kind, if I may be so rude, are supposed to have a fondness for gold and silver.”

“I fucking love gold,” I said, dreaming myself away for a second. “And silver. Doesn’t change anything.”

“I don’t think that we could deal with the trolls without you. And you killed one on your own. Are you sure?”

“Mak, what’s going on? Are you trying to argue me into demanding a larger share? I won’t. I like you guys. I want to see you all rich and happy, and I’m not going to try to screw you out of treasure that you all worked damned hard for.” I meant it. I was there for the companionship more than the treasure, though the promise of treasure was a very, very nice bonus. “And I’m not going to come back and demand anything later, either. I promise you. And if that’s not good enough, we can wake up Herald and I’ll promise her.”

Mak turned her face from me, looking guilty, and played with her stick some more. “I believe you,” she said after a while. She sounded sincere, so I took her at her word.

“Besides. You, personally, probably saved my life when you brought that troll down.”

“What?” Mak looked honestly surprised. “Did I?”

“Yeah,” I said, remembering the fight with a small shudder. “You probably couldn’t see, but he was choking me out pretty good. I don’t know how much longer I could have stayed conscious, and then… I dunno. He’d’ve probably bitten my head off. So, you know. Thanks.”

“I truly had no idea.”

“Would it have changed anything?”

“No.”

“Then it doesn’t matter if you knew or not, yeah? You still saved my life. So, thanks.”

“You’re welcome, I suppose,” she said, then, “I’m glad I could stop a troll eating your head.”

I snorted. Mak didn’t joke much, so I appreciated anything I could get. “Alright,” I said. “If that’s settled, do you want some sleep? I can take over.”

“No, you go ahead,” she said. “I have some thinking to do.”

Even after Valmik felt ready, Mak still insisted that we wait until the following morning before we went after another troll. After Camo, the big male which I had posthumously named Big Boy, and Tiny, the last two went down easily. Or they were no harder to kill than the first, but since I’d made sure that they were far from each other when we struck there was no sudden extra troll to deal with once the first one went down. We killed one in the morning, and the other in the late afternoon. I didn’t even bother to name them.

I wondered if they even understood what had happened. They hadn’t seemed to act any differently after first Camo and Big Boy disappeared, and then Tiny. Maybe members of their group disappearing was completely normal and expected. Or maybe they just didn’t care. In any case, if they’d banded together after the first two they would have been safe. We never would have dared to go after three trolls at once. But they didn’t, and so four humans and one relatively small dragon killed five giant monsters. Teamwork makes the dream work, and so on.

After killing the last troll we went straight to the ruin. We made good use of the light-ball I’d brought, and the one that they’d had with them, though I had Mak charge them rather than doing it myself. They already knew that I could do something magical, since I’d been the one to find and open the gates, but I didn’t feel like Mak trusted me fully yet, and I had some vague hope that me trusting her with little things like that might help.

The others reacted far more poorly to the trolls’ den than I did. My primary reaction to the smell of death and decay was interest. The others reacted as you’d expect a human to react to the stench of old blood and rotting meat in a hot, humid cellar, and together with the heavy aroma of troll they were effectively forced to stay outside until they’d foraged some strong-smelling herbs to make odour-blocking masks with. Once they made it inside we all had to dig through the various heaps of ‘treasure’ and refuse, which were sometimes hard to tell apart, and my poor companions had to return outside frequently to take some deep breaths and recover. We found some items of minor value: a few rings, a belt buckle, a knife still in good shape, and of course some coin. But we kept looking until we’d found three identical pendants, each made of three interlocking triangles.

“Ugh,” Tamor said. “Well, that’s our proof of death, at least.”

“Couldn’t you just get three of these somewhere and pass them off as the real ones?” I asked him.

“You could try. But when we report back we’ll have to swear before a Guild controller that we truly believe that they are what we say they are, and the controllers are extremely good at detecting lies and half-truths. Our reputation would be ruined if we were found out.”

“Oh, right.” Of course they’d have human lie detectors! Despite everything, I still sometimes forgot that this place basically ran on magic.

There was a great deal of excitement when I showed them the heavy wood-and-metal door. It wasn’t in perfect condition by any means, with the wood being weathered and the metal corroded, but it had still stood up to the test of time far better than it had any right to. It also seemed to have swollen and twisted over the centuries, wedging it in tight in the stone arch of the doorway.

But no matter how well it was constructed, and how impressively it had lasted, it was still a door made to keep out thieves in the night. It was never designed to stand up to four determined adventurers with axes, pry bars, chisels, and hammers, and their magically supercharged dragon companion. It took hours. We ended up working our way through the stone around the hinges and the bolt, and then prying the whole damn thing out, fraction by fraction of an inch until it fell into the cellar, nearly crushing Tamor’s toes as it came. But open it we did. And inside…

Nothing. Bare stone, and bare shelves.

“Sorrows be damned!” Mak exclaimed, striding into the revealed chamber holding one of the light-balls. “There must be something here! A loose stone in one of the walls, maybe?” She looked back at the others, who gazed in with open disappointment. “Come on!” she ordered impatiently. “Get in here and start looking!”

While they all hopped to do as Mak said, I took it slower. I had the feeling that she was right. Even over the death and the troll, I could swear that I smelled silver. Not gold, unfortunately, but definitely silver. I could do silver. You usually got a lot more of it than with gold, and quantity, I’ve heard, has a quality of its own. If nothing else it spread out nicely for sleeping on.

I sniffed around the walls, pushing the others away if necessary, but I couldn’t find anything. We tore out the rotten shelves to get better access to the walls, but it didn’t help. I kept smelling that silver, though, and the more people moved around, the stronger the scent got.

It was only when Herald tripped on something that I looked down.

On the floor, one of the stones was slightly higher than the others, rising out of the thick layer of dust that had accumulated. And I could swear…

I brushed around the stone with my hand. There! Faint, but unmistakable, I saw the glow of magic. It ran in a straight line, and I brushed along it, revealing more. Then a corner, and more line, and another corner and so on until I’d revealed a group of stones outline in a faintly glowing square.

“Guys,” I said, but they were too busy searching to pay attention. “Guys!” I said it louder, to no effect. In irritation, I roared.

Everyone stopped. Not just that, but everyone went for their weapons, until they realised where the sound came from.

“Now that I have your attention, could you all back off from this square I’ve outlined? Or better, step out of the room. I have no idea what’s going to happen when I try this.”

“Try what?” Herald said.

“I’m going to open it. Like one of the gates.”

“What? Oh. Ooooh!” Mak looked at the floor and back to me before she started herding the others out of the room. “Out! Everybody out!”

I put my hand on the stones inside the boundary. The only real similarity between the square on the floor of the cellar and the gates was that they were stone, and outlined with magic. But there had to be a connection. How could there not be? I focused my will, and commanded the patch of stone to open.

Nothing happened. Of course, I hadn’t announced my attempt, so as far as the others knew I hadn’t failed. I tried again, and again nothing. I frowned in annoyance and looked at the square. Some of the stones were raised…

I commanded the stones to rise. I made myself see it, how they’d slide right up as though it was the most natural thing in the world, the only possible outcome of my will. I looked, visualised, focused, and commanded.

Something left me, and with a slow grinding noise, the stones began to rise. They rose and rose, and a thick, square plate of stone cleared the floor revealing four narrow stone pillars. It all kept rising, until before us stood something like a display case holding a red lacquered lockbox, finely carved and inlaid with silver forming a minimalistic mountain scene, reminding me of old Chinese or Japanese art. It was a treasure in itself, never mind whatever might be in it. The box was about a foot on a side and six inches high, the ornate legs not included. The wonderful aroma of silver lay thick around it, and the artistically inlaid lines shone golden to me.

“Take it,” I said hoarsely.

Valmik quickly entered the room, reached out, and lifted the box with some effort. “Heavy,” he commented expectantly. “Seventy, seventy five pounds.” He tilted it experimentally, and something clinked and jingled inside.

“Open it. Open it! Crack it open!” Herald said, vibrating with excitement as she hung over Valmik’s shoulder, wide eyed and with a grinning wildly.

“Patience.” He inspected the box from every side. “It is beautiful, is it not? Destroying it would be a crime!”

Herald looked nearly manic in her excitement. “So break the lock or the hinges and leave the rest!”

“There is no lock. Look, no keyhole anywhere.”

"Don't you dare damage that box," I said as Herald, becoming impatient, brought out a dagger to try and pry the thing open. "Put it down, Valmik. Gently."

Valmik set the box down almost reverently, Tamor having the presence of mind to spread an empty sack on the floor. As the others crouched around it, Mak holding out the light-ball, I pulled in my claws as hard as I could and put my hands on the sides of the box. I focused. I willed it to open.

There was a click.