Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
FOX
Despite being sent away on a leave, it took Fox another two days to get the courage up to seek out Ian—or Vato—or whatever he called himself now.
After sun cycles of thinking of the man as his friend, finding out he was also a resistance spy had been more than a little shocking.
He’d been avoiding speaking with the man since the prison break.
It had been easy when he’d been working day and night, but he’d spent the last forty-eight hours wandering around the city, eyes sliding over the detritus that littered the streets, blood leaking out from some rubble piles.
Thanks to Fox’s screw up, the lockdown in the city had been extended until the king’s men could search every single Dragonborn house.
He felt sick. They’d been locked away for over a week now, and the dead were rotting in the streets.
The Dereyans had been slowly collecting their dead, but the others had simply been left.
There would likely be a mass burning in the coming weeks and their bodies would disappear beneath the smoke and flames without names—their loved ones without closure.
At least he’d gotten to bury his brother.
Leon. Ian’s best friend. Leon who the resistance had killed. Leon who was the reason Fox had spent so many sun cycles fighting against the resistance. And all the while, Ian was working for them. As if they hadn’t killed his best friend.
Fox kept his head down and his eyes focused on the street as he walked, his cloak pulled up to obscure his face.
Now that he’d decided to confront Ian, he didn’t wish to wait any longer.
He needed to inform him about what was happening in the lab and what he’d done with the girl—Dia.
Ian would know how to get the information to Sofia.
But he also needed to ask him about everything.
The commotion echoing through the empty streets told him when he was close to Ian’s unit.
Fox turned the corner, his blank mask falling into place like a shield.
The Dragonborn were lined up, about a dozen of them, as soldiers threw their belongings out onto the street with little care.
They were emptying out three houses at once, their entire lives thrown into a single pile in the muddy, damp street.
He could already see that they’d broken some of the chairs they’d thrown out and even food had joined the pile, meat and vegetables tossed onto the road with little care that it was all they’d have to eat for the next few weeks until rations returned or the markets were back up.
Three guards were screaming at one of the Dragonborn, a man—only a few sun cycles older than Fox. His face was pale and gaunt, but he continued to shake his head.
“Where’s your wife? I see her on the register, so where is she?”
“She didn’t come back that night. She was working in the royal quarter and never came back.”
Fox could hear the strain in his voice, tears tracking down his face.
“Lying scum,” the soldier said, grabbing the man by the neck and throwing him to the ground. “Anyone found hiding rebels will be executed. Anyone hiding information will be executed.”
He was still screaming the words even as he sent kick after kick into the man—his side, his back, his head.
Blood splattered the street. The familiar sound of bone cracking had Fox’s stomach turning.
Before he could intervene, the man’s body went slack, his face a bloody mess.
Fox knew he was dead. He’d seen plenty of dead bodies before.
The soldier’s companion grabbed the next woman in line by her hair, pulling her closer.
“Now, tell us where Andrea Goz and Javier Diaz are. They are listed at this residence. Show us the bodies, or I’ll arrest you for resistance ties.”
“Please,” the woman said, fingers scrambling for the hand in her hair. “We don’t know where they are. We haven’t seen them since the drag—”
The man slammed the woman’s face into the stone wall before she could finish her sentence. But everyone knew what she was going to say. Even the other soldiers went eerily still, as if everyone were waiting for someone to admit the truth.
How many people had seen the dragon come that night?
“What in the king’s name is going on out here?
” Ian demanded as he stepped from one home, holding a chest. He set it down next to the pile of belongings before scanning his men.
His eyes flickered between the dead man at his specialist’s feet and the woman clutched in the man’s hand, her face covered in blood, nose clearly broken.
Fox didn’t know if he made a sound, but Ian’s eyes swung to him. His expression didn’t change, his shoulders tensing.
“Junior Specialist Lago, what did I say about casualties?” he snapped, turning back to his soldier.
“Sir, High Specialist Holt—”
“Release that woman and both of you return to the barracks immediately.”
“Sir—“
“One more word and I’ll send you to the prison,” he said, face still blank. “I gave clear directions and I don’t tolerate being ignored.”
Junior Specialist Lago released the woman and she crumpled, no one going to her aid. The two men left, backs straight, but Fox could see the defiance in their eyes. This wouldn’t be the last Ian would hear about this, he was sure.
“The rest of you, finish cleaning up this mess and let’s move on. At this rate, it will take a sun cycle to completely sweep the city.”
Ian glared a beat until his men jumped to follow his orders and then he stepped over to where Fox was waiting.
“Junior Major Ocon,” he said, “what can I do for you?”
“I spoke with the chief commander and have some information to share in private, High Sergeant.” He hoped the intensity in his eyes would speak for him. He didn’t want to wait until tonight to talk.
Ian’s face remained impassive, but after a moment, he turned to his men. “Junior Sergeant Vin!”
A man stepped over from where he was talking with a Dragonborn.
Despite his rank, he was older than Fox and Ian both, the edges of his hair peppered with white.
Fox didn’t have to wonder why he wasn’t at a higher rank by now.
He likely came from a Dragonborn family that had turned loyalist. They’d been promised so much, yet the king had delivered so little.
Sofia would have given him a speech about the connection between these broken promises and the last uprising.
Ian spoke. “Please take command until I return. I want this block and the next swept before the end of the day. Any suspicious activity, report to me and don’t send arrests to the prison until I’m back.”
“Yes, sir,” the older man said, giving a curt bow.
“And Vin,” Ian said, voice lower. “If I hear about any more unnecessary violence, it’s your head I’ll come for.”
“Yes, sir,” he said, turning away as if afraid of lingering under Ian’s glare.
“Junior Major Ocon, why don’t we go somewhere more private?” he said, already walking away.
Fox followed, stepping carefully over the rubble and refuse of the alley Ian took them down.
The other man didn’t speak as he led them down three turns with no indication of where they were going.
Fox thought, briefly, that Ian was taking him somewhere to kill him.
He knew too much about the resistance, and they’d decided he wasn’t worth the risk.
Then again, if anyone was going to kill him, he imagined Sofia would do the job herself.
Something deep in his chest twisted. He pushed his feelings down, focusing instead on the fetid stench of death and war that permeated the drowned quarter.
Once the sweeps were done, it would still take weeks to clean the city.
The king’s men would help, but it would be cursory at best. It would be up to the Dragonborn to rebuild with whatever resources and time they had.
The unfairness of it was sharp in Fox’s chest.
They passed the docks, and Ian took him out onto the black stone beach until they were at the edge, where the water lapped at the shore.
The horizon was a flat icy blue, a sharp wind whistling off the sea.
Fox shivered, the air biting through his cloak, but it would be nearly impossible for anyone to hear them out here.
The cliffs that held the royal and military quarters rose into the sky to their right, their shadow stretching across the beach.
Ian leaned against a small outcrop of rocks, gaze focused on the sea.
“I’m assuming this doesn’t have to do with the chief commander.”
“Yes and no,” Fox said, looking around them. They were alone, and the wind whistling off the sea would drown their voices. “Do you know about their dragon?” he asked, not wanting to tiptoe around the issue.
“The resistance’s? Not until it showed up.”
“No,” Fox said, “Chief Commander Harlow’s dragon.”
Ian sat up, no longer pretending nonchalance. “Harlow has a gods’ damned dragon?”
“Two,” Fox said, eyes scanning the docks and city beyond, as if the chief commander might jump out at him at any moment.
“An adult and her child. He’s been using the child to manipulate her, but they’re researching a way to control the dragons.
Harlow thinks that’s how Sofia is getting her dragon to follow her orders. ”
“Kings help us,” Ian said, leaning against the rocks, his face in his hands.
“I need you to get a message to Sofia. She needs to know about the dragons we have.”