42. Insurance
42
INSURANCE
By the time they reached the safe house, the team of eight was a team of four. Sicaryon and Naeron, Claw and Gwydinion—they all made it back uninjured, but certainly not whole. Gwydinion’s entire body ached—there had been a human-sized path from the landing to Neveranimas’s vault, but the dragon had felt no need to keep it well maintained or safe. The climb back had seemed endless.
Claw stared out at nothing, unresponsive to anything around her, while Gwydinion sat in a corner, petting Legless’s head. He was trying not to think about what had just happened, what it meant. Sicaryon paced back and forth, harkening to metaphors of animals and cages, all tightly wound restless energy with no release in sight. He looked like he might turn around at any moment and run back to the vault.
“Don’t tell me you lost Ris?” Jaemeh said as he shut the door behind him.
Gwydinion’s jaw dropped. What was Jaemeh even doing there?
The dragonrider looked worse for wear—tired and wet from the rain outside—but also had the pleased air of someone who’d done a good day’s work. He carried a knapsack slung over one shoulder and wore an additional shirt and coat over Kaibren’s inscribed clothing.
Sicaryon smoothly turned on his heel to face Jaemeh. He smiled, just a touch too bright to be sincere. “Stubborn woman. She’s trying to see what she can do to rescue Anahrod. But I think the better question is, why are you here? Shouldn’t you be with your dragon, pretending you have no idea what’s going on?”
Gwydinion told Legless to hide back in his sleeve again. He stood up and walked closer. Something was going on. Jaemeh shouldn’t be there.
Jaemeh raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me? We agreed we’d meet here.”
“Those of us leaving agreed to meet here,” Sicaryon corrected. “But you’re staying behind in Yagra’hai with Tiendremos.”
“I just want to make sure everyone is safe, Cary,” Jaemeh pointed out as he stepped a hair to the side. The tension in the room rose, as if they were preparing to have a duel.
Sicaryon angled around to Jaemeh’s side.
The dragonrider must have noticed, some instinct whispering to let no one into his blind spots. He moved, too, one step at a time, both men smiling at each other and pretending everything was fine.
Just as Gwydinion considered taking a step back, both men sprang into action, their movements a blur.
When the movement stopped, Sicaryon’s sword paused midair, arrested at the fulcrum of its swing, just a hair’s breadth from Gwydinion’s neck.
Jaemeh had grabbed Gwydinion, pulling the teenager into Sicaryon’s path with a bright, crackling blue rope of energy looped around his neck. Gwydinion smelled ozone and burning fabric, felt the heat of that rope. It reminded him of lightning, and he was pretty sure it would kill him like lightning, too.
“Careful now,” Jaemeh told Sicaryon. “This is a lethal charge I’ve wrapped around the boy. Something to think about if you’re considering anything that might make me break my concentration.”
Claw stood up, her eyes finally focusing. “You’re bluffing,” Claw growled.
“You know I’m not. I also think you know lightning is attracted to metal—your knives, Cary’s sword. If you were to do something rash, who knows where this might jump?” He smiled. “I wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt.”
“Let the boy go,” Sicaryon ordered.
“Maybe later.” Jaemeh tilted his head in Naeron’s direction. “Don’t get any ideas. I’ll fry your brain long before you boil the blood in mine.” He smiled at Sicaryon. “That was a nice sword strike,” Jaemeh said. “Don’t meet many Skylanders who know how to use a sword unless they’re dragonriders.”
“If that was supposed to be a question, the answer is no—I’m not a dragonrider,” Sicaryon said. “I just like swords.”
“Then don’t get any bright ideas and you’ll continue to play with yours for many years to come.” Jaemeh stopped the play of electricity surrounding one hand for long enough to dip his fingers into a coat pocket and pull out an embroidered blue bag, which he tossed on the table.
On closer inspection, the bag wasn’t embroidered. It was inscribed.
“If everyone would put their folding box in that bag, Gwydinion would appreciate it.” Jaemeh smiled. “As would I.”
“You can’t…” Gwydinion swallowed. “You can’t put folding boxes inside each other, you know.”
“It’s not a folding box,” Jaemeh said. “Don’t worry about that.”
“You cheating bastard—” Claw’s eyes were wide with rage, her nostrils flared.
“Careful,” he warned her. The lightning was back around his fingers. “Kaibren would be upset if you died less than an hour after he did, so honor his memory by not being a fool.”
“Stand down, Claw,” Sicaryon murmured.
“Fuck off. You’re not my boss.”
“Maybe you should do what he says anyway,” Jaemeh said. “Cary’s smart, and you’re running out of friends to lose.”
Gwydinion thought she might forget herself and attack the man anyway, so he decided it might be a good idea to remind Claw he was being used as a shield.
“What did you do with Anahrod?” Gwydinion demanded of Jaemeh.
“That’s not important—”
“He locked her in the vault.” Sicaryon’s voice was soft. “He knocked her unconscious and reset the traps that killed Kaibren. That is what you did, isn’t it?”
“It’s not my fault the man didn’t run the right way.”
“You—!” Claw made a choking sound and reached for her weapons.
Naeron sighed and shook his head. A moment later, Claw slumped forward, unconscious.
“Thank you, Naeron,” Sicaryon said. “We’ll make it up to her later.”
Gwydinion swallowed thickly, felt tears at the corners of his eyes, hoping he’d misunderstood what was going on. “Jaemeh, four of the five keys broke! If you locked her in there, she can’t get herself back out.”
Without the keys, the only way for Anahrod to escape the vault was if someone opened the door for her.
Only one being could: Neveranimas.
Which meant Anahrod hadn’t just been left behind—she’d been murdered.
“Sorry about that.” Jaemeh didn’t bother to cloak himself with even the faintest veneer of sincerity. “But worry less about her and more about yourself.” He let out the line of blue electricity like it was a leash. “Go pick up the bag.”
Gwydinion did, surprised to discover that the bag weighed almost nothing.
“See you soon,” Sicaryon promised as Jaemeh dragged the boy to the door.
Jaemeh snorted. “I doubt that.”
“I wasn’t talking to you.” Sicaryon seemed to be trying to communicate something to Gwydinion, at least if the intensity of his stare was anything to go by. Unfortunately, Sicaryon wasn’t an actual animal, despite the association with trolls, so Gwydinion didn’t know what.
“If you hurt him,” Sicaryon shouted, “there’s no place you’ll be able to hide.”
Then the shack door slammed shut, and muffled anything else the Deeper king might’ve said. Jaemeh dragged Gwydinion by the electrified leash.
“Don’t worry,” he said to the boy. “I’m not a monster. As long as you don’t make me hurt you, you’ll be fine.”
Gwydinion didn’t dignify that with a reply.
Jaemeh dragged him onboard the flyer.
Anahrod woke with a pounding headache and the knowledge that something was wrong. The only light came from her inscribed necklace, fallen to the ground. Around it, a few remaining diamonds glittered, casting rainbow sparks against the walls. She felt the side of her head, winced at the knot there. Someone had hit her on the head, hard.
She was still inside the vault.
Jaemeh, however, wasn’t. The dragonstone was also—
The dragonstone was on the ground right in front of her.
She picked it up. It was the same one she’d been looking at earlier. Jaemeh just hadn’t taken it.
She ran outside the third vault, then outside the second, and stared at the exit. She searched for the pressure plates, for the one that opened the vault entrance.
Someone had removed one of the metal shields from the vault of secrets and tossed it over the main pressure plate. They’d then melted the edges, welding the shield to the floor. She tried jumping on the metal plate. It didn’t even dent. Jaemeh hadn’t just abandoned her—he’d trapped her.
[Peralon?] She reached out, unsure if the gold dragon could hear her.
For a few seconds, she feared the worst, then a faint whisper brushed against her.
[Anahrod! Are you safe?]
She laughed bitterly. [The opposite of safe. Jaemeh knocked me out, but I don’t understand. He didn’t take the dragonstone. Only—] She exhaled. [He must not have thought it was important?]
Even as she said the words, she knew they were wrong.
In the distance, she felt a now familiar knot of pain, hate, and rage spin up into being. Her heartbeat pounded against her throat.
[A dragon’s going rampant,] she told Peralon.
He didn’t answer for a long beat. [Yes, apparently so.] Again, a pause. [I’m more concerned about freeing you.]
She shook her head, stopped when her headache blazed white-hot in response. [I appreciate the sentiment. I really do, but it’s not happening. Peralon… why is this dragonstone so damn important? What haven’t you and Ris told me?] A feeling of dread threatened to overwhelm her. She looked around the first vault, the one that Neveranimas officially admitted to collecting. It was meticulously organized. Every dragonstone had a place upon rows and rows of shelves.
[It was where Neveranimas kept all the details of her most horrible crimes,] Peralon confessed. [Details of her and of Tiendremos. And that’s why we had to make sure he never suspected our actual goal wasn’t those stupid diamonds.]
Anahrod cursed. That made sense. It would’ve given Ris her revenge against both dragons. And it certainly explained why Ris and Peralon had kept that detail so close to the chest—because at even the faintest hint that the true goal was evidence implicating Tiendremos, too, he’d have either fled or, worse, turned tail and gone straight to Neveranimas.
Neveranimas, who might arrive at any moment.
Anahrod pushed that anxiety from her mind. It did nothing to help her. Instead, she picked up the light locket, held it high, and studied the room. She paused as she spotted two empty places on the shelves, right next to each other.
Anahrod had to be holding the dragonstone that went into one of those cubbyholes. Jaemeh must have grabbed it as he’d walked past to use as a decoy.
She winced as the dragon chatter in her mind grew more intense. If she’d been above ground or near any human centers, the shelter bells would be ringing.
That first cubbyhole… she examined the edges of the stone opening. She saw a lot of wear and very little dust. Whatever was normally stored there was something Neveranimas used often.
Anahrod realized she was grinding her teeth.
[With all respect, Peralon, you’re very mistaken. Tiendremos does know about that dragonstone, and it was always his target. Neither one of you cared about the damn diamonds. Tiendremos knows exactly what that dragonstone looks like and likely shared that information with Jaemeh.]
Peralon didn’t answer.
[Peralon?]
[There’s one problem with your theory.] The flavor of the dragon’s mental “speech” turned grim and tense.
[What is it?]
[The dragon who just went rampant is Tiendremos.]
She couldn’t breathe. No. Tiendremos gone rampant? That would be apocalyptic .
[You need to see this.]
Peralon grabbed hold of her thoughts and yanked.
Anahrod stared at chaos.
She looked out at the world through Peralon’s eyes. He hadn’t switched places with her, as he did with Ris: she was a passenger, an observer, and nothing more.
Hilariously, the location was familiar because she’d just seen it in one of Neveranimas’s dragonstones. This was the stone plateau where the dragon elders met, one of the highest points in the city.
It was under attack.
The storm perpetually circling the city had been drawn inward, pooling in a tightening spiral stretching down to the surface like the accusing finger of an angry god. Dangerous debris and even more dangerous dragons were tossed about by the winds. Lightning crashed to the ground in lethal chains of white fire. Verbal speech would’ve been impossible given the thunder slamming against all ears.
Tiendremos was at the center. One of his wings was still bandaged from his injury fighting Modelakast, but he no longer seemed to feel the pain. The dragon hissed and screamed and launched itself at a nearby green dragon, raking his claws before ripping away the other dragon’s throat. Tiendremos’s eyes were mad, lost in berserk fury.
Tiendremos was rampant. For real, this time.
But why now?
[I think,] Peralon told her unhappily, [that this dragonstone must be more than we suspected.]
[This is how she was doing it,] Anahrod said, stunned. [This is how Neveranimas has been making dragons go rampant. Not a spell or a curse. An artifact. And Jaemeh just used it on his own dragon.]
A part of her immediately whispered: Of course he did.
She’d known Jaemeh wasn’t happy as Tiendremos’s rider. Hell, they’d all known that. How could he have been? At best, Jaemeh had been a toy doll Tiendremos had used to talk to the humans. Tiendremos had seen his rider—had always seen all his riders—as entirely expendable.
Jaemeh had seen a way out and he’d taken it.
The dragon elders seemed less reluctant to enter the fray here than they’d been with Modelakast. Perhaps because Tiendremos was one of their own, but more likely because he’d wasted no time attacking them personally.
It was terrible to see.
The dragons used claw and tooth because their breath attacks seldom discriminated friend from foe. There were exceptions: a large black dragon with indigo blue wingtips and tail breathed out some kind of black, sticky substance that it controlled at will. Tiendremos writhed whenever any of the sludge con tacted him. Another dragon had breathed out a stream of sickly blue liquid, but when it missed and hit a different dragon, didn’t try again.
[Wait. Where’s Neveranimas? She was here, wasn’t she?] Anahrod could see within Peralon’s field of view.
[I thought—] The dragon craned his head, turning with impressive, dizzying speed as he scanned for the violet dragon. [She must have left. The traps—a trap was triggered before we left. It’s possible she’s investigating.]
Anahrod laughed. [No. She’s coming back because Tiendremos just went rampant for no reason, and she knows she isn’t responsible.] For all Tiendremos’s bad qualities, he hadn’t been on the verge of going rampant. For him to do so now must have set off metaphorical alarm bells of the sort that couldn’t be disarmed.
Neveranimas only knew of one method for forcing rampancy, so she’d left to check on its whereabouts.
[You must escape.] Peralon’s mental voice sounded frantic. Without warning, the connection to his sight vanished. She was back in the vault again.
A grinding noise echoed as the steam vent door opened. Anahrod ran back into the Vault of Secrets, but there was no time to hide what they’d done. The second and third vaults were both open, Ivarion’s diamonds obviously missing. She might have delighted in Neveranimas’s scream of outrage upon discovering the invasion and theft were she not trapped herself.
She barely had time to duck behind a carved block of granite before the ground shivered in a slow, steady drumbeat. She snapped shut the light locket, stuffed the whole thing into her shirt, plunged the room back into darkness.
Neveranimas had returned to her vault.