Space Pirate Charlie: The Dragon Mage Book 2 Page 10

  “I don’t know any of those. Could you maybe show me one?”

  “Not my place, and I’m on duty. Now, get out of this area. Head straight down that path to your left, and it will take you to that odd animal keeper woman’s cabin. She’ll show you where to go from there.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Charlie said, acting as servile as possible as he quickly assessed the arms the man was carrying, then took off down the path he had been pointed to.

  Two slaaps, a thick konus, and is that a sword on his hip? It’s got a little glow. Jesus, the guy has an enchanted blade. That’s a lot of weaponry for a simple sentry. They either expect something bad, or really, really don’t want anyone snooping.

  He didn’t run into any more of the visla’s men on his way, but he had been seen by one of Dinuk’s men, and while he didn’t think his encounter would be reported, it was too much of a risk to simply go back to his room now.

  Looks like I’m going to see the dragon after all.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Hey, Ara. I’m back,” Charlie called out in his head as he strode carefully into the Zomoki’s holding pen.

  She was resting against the far wall, aimlessly swatting a large ball of some sort of leather with her tail.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “I’m letting you know I’m here before I come in. I didn’t want to startle you. Not a good idea spooking a dragon.”

  Ara laughed silently. It was a strange sensation within his skull.

  “You ridiculous man. You really think I didn’t smell you coming over ten minutes ago?”

  “I guess I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “I guess not. And the gravel outside––you couldn’t sneak in even if you wanted to. Besides, you and I have a bond now. I can sense you anywhere on this world.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously. This surprises you?”

  “Why wouldn’t it? I mean, maybe this is normal for you, but this is all new to me, all this dragons and aliens and whatnot.”

  “You keep using this word, ‘dragon.’ What does it mean?”

  “It’s what you are.”

  “It most certainly is not. I am a Zomoki.”

  “Yeah? Well, that’s what we call giant, flying, fire-breathing lizards on my world. Dragons.”

  “Hmm, so my kind are on your world as well,” she mused, her tail swishing like an anxious cat.

  “No, we don’t actually have dragons. They’re mythical creatures. Just a legend.”

  “Really?” she grumbled, swatting the ball with her tail and sending it flying. “Ugh. Can you believe this, Charlie? Stuck in this pen. And as if that weren’t degrading enough, they gave me a ball. A child’s toy, as if I were some hatchling to entertain.”

  “To be fair, Leila probably doesn’t know exactly what will make you happy.”

  “My freedom, for starters. That would more than do the trick.”

  “And as that’s not on the table?”

  The dragon sighed heavily, a tendril of smoke wafting from her nostrils as she shifted to better look at Charlie. “Why do you insist on moving your lips when we speak? This will bode ill for both of us if you are observed.”

  “I’m not talking out loud.”

  “No, but you still move your lips.”

  “I do? Sorry. I hadn’t realized.”

  “Well, you know now.”

  Charlie wandered the enclosure. Indeed, there wasn’t much to keep the mighty Zomoki occupied. He imagined it must be a particularly horrible confinement for a creature who would normally be able to easily soar to great heights and travel between worlds.

  “Uzri ha,” he said, his middling konus flashing as the large ball rolled to him.

  “What was that? What did you just do?”

  “I called the ball over, is all. I wanted to take a better look at it.”

  “No, that’s not what I mean. That spell. It is not meant to do that. It is a fighting spell.”

  “I know, but it is a pulling kind of power, so I just repurposed it to pull the ball over here.”

  “You shouldn’t be able to do that. It’s never been used like that.”

  “So if no one ever thought to use it that way, who’s to say it can’t be done? You know, there’s an old saying about an empty vessel.”

  “Spare me your philosophy. I’ve heard all of it in my lifetime.”

  “So, you’re pretty old, then.”

  “Yes, I am. At least by your standards. Now tell me, why do you speak aloud when you cast your spells?”

  “Uh, because that’s how it works. Everyone has to say the words to make them work.”

  “Charlie, you possess Zomoki blood in your veins. You do not.”

  Charlie was caught off guard by the statement. If he really didn’t have to take the time to say a spell out loud, that ability could be a boon, and a secret weapon as well.

  He looked at the ball and concentrated, using the kika rahm spell to deliver a mighty punch to the ball.

  It rolled a few inches.

  “Did you see that?”

  “Yes, you nudged a ball. Really, Charlie, you need to do better than that.”

  “But that was my first try. And it worked! How is it no one ever mentioned this to me?”

  “Because most do not know why their spells work or fail. There is more to it than just words. There is intent. Skill. Power. All must be present for spells of different degrees. This is why lower-level practitioners like emmiks and mesters can say a powerful spell and have it fail more often than not. It takes years to achieve the higher levels.”

  “So I just got a sort of cheat code when you bled on me.”

  “I do not know what a ‘cheat code’ is, but if I understand the gist of what you are saying, then yes.”

  Charlie’s mind reeled at the possibilities. Sure, he still needed a konus or slaap to power the casting, but if he could lay his hands on one, the ability to cast without uttering a word could be a powerful weapon indeed. With the secret goings-on of Visla Maktan, it was one he feared he might need sooner than later.

  “Ara, there’s one thing I was meaning to ask you. If Visla Maktan has been trying to tap into Zomoki magic for so long, why has he never been successful? And why so much interest in you?”

  The great beast sighed. “That, I’m afraid, is partly my fault. You see, whatever it was that you did to my restraining collar in battle greatly weakened its hold on me. I’d become used to being forced to cast forcefully to make even the slightest magic work, but you unexpectedly turned me loose, if but for a moment. The result is what caught his eye. If only we’d had a moment longer, I might even have broken my collar and been free of this bondage, but we were stunned too quickly to act.”

  “So it was my fault? Shit, I’m really sorry.”

  “There is nothing to be sorry about. You obviously had no idea you could even do that, and, given the reactions of the vislas overseeing the bout, it looks as if no one else did either. More likely than not, it was our blood bond at work.”

  He looked at the sheer size of the dragon and marveled that anyone could have ever gotten close enough to attack her, let alone capture her. But the injured wing and collar on her neck told another story.

  “How did they capture you, Ara? If you were so powerful, it seems unlikely.”

  A faraway look flashed in her golden eyes as she remembered the day. “I had recently birthed a small clutch of eggs and was resting in a cavern, recovering my strength, when Visla Ookaman’s slaves attacked me.”

  “Who?”

  “The visla whose collar I bore when we first met. He sent wave after wave of men to their death, all of them attacking me at once. They couldn’t possibly win, even in my weakened state, so I didn’t take the threat terribly seriously. At worst, I thought they might try to entrap me deep underground as others have been known to do. But my kind can lay dormant for years––centuries if we must.”

  “Kind of like a bear, only bi
gger. And that breathes fire,” Charlie mused. “Holy shit, imagine that. A fire-breathing bear.”

  “A what?”

  “A big, furry thing from my world. Sorry, nevermind. So you were saying you thought you’d be dormant for a long time, right?”

  “I thought so at first, however even that was not to be my fate.”

  “What happened?”

  “A clever trick, I must admit. The visla was outside the cave, just within skree range. He was monitoring the attack from safety, you see? He did not dare meet me on the field of battle. Well, I was making quick work of his men, when I noticed several had dropped their packs as I dispatched them to the afterlife. They were carrying collars. Dozens of them. Perhaps more. All he needed was for one to find its way around my neck.”

  “And it did.”

  “Yes,” she said, grimly. “I had only just realized the true nature of the attack when I felt the warm metal of a collar on my flesh. I was about to throw the offending slave off and devour him whole, but he had already transmitted his success over the skree. Visla Ookaman cast the spell, and the collar sealed tight. I fought its power, but I was so weak at that moment, I could not break free. They shocked me for hours until I finally succumbed. When I awoke in the cages of Gramfir’s arena, the collar had already been replaced with a more powerful one.”

  “And then you met me.”

  “Yes. A few days later, a strange, little, pink man surprised me with an act of kindness. And now, here we are, today.”

  Charlie’s heart ached for Ara’s plight. A brilliant mind, but her kind were hunted for their powers.

  “And other Zomoki? They seemed less intimidating, and a few even died during that bout.”

  “We all possess some power, Charlie. Some more than others. Only in the rarest of instances can we share it with another being, but that is enough to make us targets. It is this sharing of power that great wielders of magic have long sought––and is why we Zomoki have become nearly extinct because of it.”

  “They try to bind you? To drain you of your power? I overheard the visla and Dinuk talking. I think Maktan intends to do precisely that to you, if he can.”

  “I do not doubt it. But my kind would rather die than share our power, and if that is to be my fate, so be it. Better that than let a man like Maktan use my magic to harm others.”

  “But wait a minute. You and I are connected. If you’d rather die than share your power, then why me?”

  She looked at him a long moment, an unexpected fondness clear in her eyes.

  “Why? Because you, Charlie, did not seek it.”

  Charlie loosed the lid of the thermos container he had been carrying and poured himself a small cup of coffee as he mused what she had said.

  “What is that?” Ara asked, her nostrils flaring wide at the aroma.

  “Coffee.”

  “The smell, it is familiar. That of tsokin berry plants when engulfed with flame. But there’s something else to it.”

  “It’s a bit more than just the roasting part that makes coffee,” he informed her. “The others seem to enjoy it a lot, though you might not. It’s a little bitter, but I’m quite fond of it. The magic users seem to find it helps them sharpen their spells.”

  “Fascinating.”

  “Want to try some? I mean, you’re huge, so it’s really just a dollop, but it’s a big enough container to give you a taste.”

  Ara hesitated a moment, unsure what it might do to her. But Charlie was linked. If subterfuge was at play, she would sense it.

  “Yes. I think I would like to taste this ‘coffee’ beverage.”

  Charlie popped the container and poured it into the dragon’s mouth. It was a lot of fluid, but for her, it barely coated her tongue. Nevertheless, her eyes flashed as she swished it in her mouth and swallowed.

  “Oh!” she gasped. “That’s wonderful.”

  The scales around her eyes seemed to brighten ever so slightly, and Charlie could have sworn he felt a surge in the power shared between them.

  “I’m going to have to brew you up a larger pot,” he mused.

  Footsteps on gravel sounded outside the walls.

  “Someone’s coming,” Charlie warned.

  “Yes, I smelled her a while ago.”

  “Her?”

  “The one who oversees the visla’s cages.”

  “Ah, Leila. She’s the groundskeeper’s daughter, you know.”

  “She has been kind. At least for a captor.”

  Leila wore a full konus as she entered the holding pen, a levitating cart piled with animal carcasses floating in behind her. Charlie recognized one of the beasts. Apparently, not all of the escaped bundabist were peacefully returned to their pens.

  “Charlie, what are you doing in here?” she asked, obviously startled at his presence. “You should get back from her. I haven’t fed her yet.”

  “Yes, I was getting a bit hungry,” Ara noted, silently in his head.

  “It’s okay, Leila. I was just checking up on her, making sure her injuries were healing. And the visla gave me a new job, by the way. I’m your new clean-up assistant.”

  Leila laughed brightly. “Oh, you must have angered him something fierce. That’s one of the punishments he saves for those he truly wishes to make suffer.”

  “Yeah, well, I guess that’s me, then.”

  She pushed the floating cart toward the Zomoki and stepped back. “You should get clear, Charlie. They burn their food before they eat it.”

  “Not always,” Ara told him. “But I’d hate to not live up to her fearsome expectations,” she added, spraying the dead beasts with flame, then devouring several of them whole.

  Leila watched in awe as the magnificent animal feasted.

  “She’s a terrible creature, but so beautiful as well,” she said. “I’d heard much of them from my father. He’d seen Zomoki when he was a boy, but I never thought I’d see one up close.”

  “She is pretty spectacular,” Charlie agreed. “And has quite an appetite,” he added, throwing an amused look at Ara. “Hungry, much?”

  “Yes, in fact. And this bundabist is delicious.”

  Leila uttered a small spell, and the flames on the cart extinguished, preserving the food conveyance from damage. “You know, it’s a shame. If not for that collar, she’d eat us whole as well without a second thought.”

  A pair of large, golden eyes crinkled around the edges as the dragon feasted.

  “No I wouldn’t,” Ara said. “I rather like this one.”

  “That’s good, because she is obviously very taken with you,” Charlie replied.

  “I sense that. And would you like to know something else?”

  “What?”

  “I think she is fond of you, too.”

  Charlie felt a flush rise to his cheeks, and it had nothing to do with the Zomoki’s smoldering meal.

  Chapter Twenty

  The moons were high in the sky when Visla Maktan visited his animalist’s pens very late that night, not long after the visiting ships had quietly taken off and headed back to their own systems. Malalia followed, a shadow in the dark, silently observing her father.

  He didn’t even bother waking the young woman in charge of the beast. Rather, he forewent exhausting discussions and subterfuge entirely and proceeded directly to the large Zomoki’s holding area.

  His men waited outside, and no one heard exactly what he said as he entered the enclosure. The beast appeared to ignore him entirely. That is, until he uttered several powerful spells aimed at her.

  The Zomoki’s collar had glowed incredibly brightly, rumor later had it. So much power had apparently been channeled through it that, for a moment, the guards actually wondered if the visla might break it in his frustration.

  While they were loyal men to a one and would never betray the visla’s trust in them––it was not worth jeopardizing their cushy jobs in the elite guard––one of the men happened to be involved with one of the housekeeping staff. When he visited her lat
er that night and lay beside her as they drifted to sleep, he shared what he had seen.

  Unfortunately, she was something of a gossip.

  News spread through the estate, whispers of the visla’s arguments during a meeting with a group of powerful men from the Council of Twenty. Men with secret plans. Men with ambitions. They were up to something, and something big from what could be gleaned from those near enough to catch snippets of their heated discussions.

  The other vislas from the Council of Twenty eventually departed, leaving several medium-sized ships behind, and shortly after, Visla Maktan had engaged in a late-night struggle with the magical creature.

  With each telling as the story passed from lips to ears, the ferocity of the event grew, until the tale had morphed into an all-out battle between wizard and dragon.

  The reality was something far more simple.

  “I know you can understand me,” Visla Maktan had said when he approached the enclosure. “You are too old a Zomoki to have survived this long and not know the high tongue of the vislas.”

  Ara had merely looked at him, her golden eyes following him as he paced.

  “I am offering you an opportunity. One that will ease your difficulties and allow you to return to your friends if you help me. I am a very powerful man. You can sense it, I know,” he said, the gold band around her neck glowing slightly brighter as if to punctuate his statement. “But it is draining for a man of my position to constantly perform upkeep of so many spells used by those laboring under me. My emmik and mester underlings do much of it, but at the end of it, all the obligation falls to me to ensure they are charged properly.”

  The dragon shifted on her haunches slightly, but other than that remained silent.

  “What I offer is simple. Share just a fraction of your power with me. Do this willingly, and as soon as I’ve powered enough devices to enable my workers to perform their duties efficiently, I shall grant you your freedom.”

  He smiled warmly.

  She felt the ice hiding behind his eyes.

  Maktan paced a bit longer, speaking pleasantly, plying her with tempting offers of freedom if only she would share her magic. And perhaps a much younger Zomoki might have fallen for his tricks, not knowing that to offer any of their power was to offer it all. A convenient loophole the visla failed to mention, but one she was well aware of.