CHAPTER 38 #2
Keenan fought his way through the mass of market-goers, keeping his eyes focused on the thin curls of smoke rising from the direction Cherry had gone. If he wasn’t mistaken, there was a line of food vendors over there; she must have smelled something she liked and decided to try for a taste.
But when he finally reached the stand, there was no sign of his emerald-green friend.
He quickly scanned the nearby booths, but there was no baby dragon wandering across the tabletops.
No creaky voice filtered through the chatter of the human attendees.
No green wings fluttered into sight, and no scaly head appeared above the vendors’ wares.
“Blast.” He spun in a slow circle, then slipped between two stalls and marched down the row behind them. “Cherry!” he called, hoping she could hear him and would respond this time. “Chirp!”
When he made it to the end of the block with no sign of her, he began asking people if they’d seen a baby dragon. He got some strange looks, but no answers.
His worry mounted higher the longer he searched.
Roughly grabbing the arm of a passing young man with a cap pulled low over his eyes, Keenan said, “I’m looking for a friend of mine.
Leathery wings, covered in green scales and has a neck a foot long.
” The young man’s eyes widened. “Looks like a small dragon. Have you seen her?”
Instead of laughing or giving a disbelieving head shake, the young man leaned away, his eyes darting to the side. “I—I have no idea what you mean. Where would I have seen something like that? If dragons are real, they don’t exist in Hartford.”
Keenan’s hand tightened around his arm. “You know something. Where did you see her?”
“Ouch! I didn’t do anything. And they don’t like me interfering in their business.”
“And if I make it my business?” Keenan growled.
He tugged his unwilling informant closer and let a little of his frustrated anger fill his face.
Princess Sakura had applauded it for protection; he’d make use of it.
“I’m not in the habit of abandoning people just because they’re a little inconvenient. ”
“I thought you said it was a dragon?” the young man squeaked out.
“She’s still a person in my book.” He leaned closer and added a touch of icy fury to his voice. “And I won’t lose her because some pipsqueak is too scared to talk.”
Keenan was probably younger, but he easily outmassed his opponent. The young man’s eyes skittered over Keenan’s flower-embroidered sling, down to the fine sword, and back up to the hand holding him in a steel grip.
“Down the next alley,” the young man gulped. He jerked his head in the direction from which he’d come. “They figure they can find someone willing to pay a high price for a dragon.”
“See? That wasn’t so hard,” Keenan grunted. He shoved the young man away and sprinted toward the alley.
When he reached it, he paused to peek around the corner. Three rough-looking men crouched around something halfway down. One yelped and jerked his hand back, but another took his place. “Can’t you do something about its feet? It claws worse than a cat!”
A tiny roar echoed down the narrow space. One of the men bit out a curse. “What did you do with the rope? We need it now!”
Keenan ducked back into the street. Why did his right arm have to be out of commission? He hadn’t trained with his sword left-handed, and these men wouldn’t be intimidated like the scrawny one who had betrayed their location to him.
He took a deep breath. Oliver had said the fracture was only in his mind. It might hurt, but he wouldn’t actually damage it further if he ran a bluff.
Removing the sling as quickly and carefully as he could, he slipped out of his pack and set it on the ground.
Then kneeling beside it, he tipped his sheath and nudged the cross guard until the blade began to slide, landing pommel-first on the pack.
He stood slowly, bringing his boot up to catch the end of the blade when it fell.
He pulled out his dagger and then stared at the sword, willing himself to pick it up. But just clamping his hand around the hilt would hurt; bearing the sword’s weight would be miserable.
“Slip it over its muzzle!”
Another roar. Then a muffled sound like someone talking with their mouth closed.
“Should we tie its wings as well?”
Cherry needed him, and he would never con three grown men with nothing but a dagger. Gritting his teeth, he bent down and grabbed the sword.
Then he straightened, stepped around the corner, and set one foot forward in a confident stance.
“Let her go,” he demanded.
One of the men rose from his crouch and sized Keenan up. “Why don’t you make us?”
“Are you sure you want me to?”
Pulling a knife out of his belt, the other man smirked. “I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”
Blast. Time to set a new record for his dumbest rescue attempt.
Raising the dagger, Keenan took two swift steps forward. His opponent was a skilled knife-fighter, but Keenan managed to hold his ground. For now.
“What’s the matter?” the other man taunted. “Too noble to bring a sword to a knife fight? Or is that pretty blade just for show?”
Keenan smiled grimly. “I don’t think you want to find out. I was trained by the captain of Prince Michael’s guard.”
The man almost looked worried for a moment, but then one of his compatriots joined them with a knife of his own. Keenan steeled his mind against the inevitable, tightened his grip on the sword, and swung it up to parry the blow.
“Trained by Prince Michael’s guard, eh?” The man laughed cruelly as Keenan’s sword clattered to the ground. Keenan hunched over, curling his arm to his chest as he backed up toward the wall.
“You should see me when I have two good arms,” he grunted. “Oliver says I’m almost worthy of joining the royal guard then.”
They closed in on him, stalking him like a pair of cats playing with their prey. “You shouldn’t have meddled in things that don’t concern you, boy,” the first one sneered. “You won’t live to regret it.”
“Keenan?” The worried voice froze Keenan’s bravado. “Keenan, where are you?”
“Princess,” he gasped out. She appeared around the corner, his discarded sling in her hand. There was no sign of Hugh.
“A princess?” the second man echoed. He grinned at his companion. “I like the sound of that. And I thought our day couldn’t get any better.”
Keenan’s dagger lashed out without thought, knocking aside the closest knife. His right fist followed close behind, and the first man was down.
Dipping a shoulder, Keenan rammed it into the second man. The man staggered back and hit the unpaved ground. One solid kick later, he was down for the count.
Keenan doubled over, gasping as the pain rushed back in. If he was lucky, the third ruffian had abandoned Cherry and fled, because he needed a moment before his next fight.
A hand landed on his arm, and he reacted, slashing upward with his dagger. But he froze when a female shriek greeted him.
“Princess!” He dropped the dagger, horrified. “Are you all right?”
Princess Sakura slowly lowered her hands. “Lesson learned: warn an injured warrior that you’re approaching,” she said in a shaky voice.
“I’m so sorry, Princess. I should have—”
She waved him off as she bent to retrieve the sling from the ground. “It was my fault. It is only natural that you would respond defensively in that situation.”
“But I could have hurt you!”
Giving him a wry smile, she reached up to hook the sling around his neck. “And if I’d been one of the men you were expecting, it would have been quite justified.”
“Yes. What happened to the third?” He twisted to look down the alley, earning him an annoyed huff from the princess.
“I only saw two. Forget the other, let me put your arm in the sling, and let’s keep looking for Cherry.”
“But he has her,” Keenan groaned. He snatched his dagger off the ground, wincing when it jostled his injury. “Stay here while I—” He couldn’t leave her by herself, especially with two unconscious thugs. “Where’s Hugh?”
“Looking for you.” Her eyebrows pulled together. “When you didn’t return, he grew worried. But we were separated.”
Keenan released an exasperated sigh and jogged toward the far end of the alley. “You’ll have to stick with me then. Come on.”
“In your condition?” she protested. “And what about your sword?”
“I can’t carry it. And it will take too long to sheathe without my right arm.” He slowed to make sure she was coming. “And do not offer to bring it, Princess—you would have to run with it in your hand. What if you trip?”
Eyes widening, she immediately stepped away from the fallen blade and hurried after him.