Dragon-Ridden (7 page)

 “My lady. She is dangerous,”
Tempest argued heatedly. “She just admitted to sending someone to steal from
you.”

“Ah, ah Tempest. You know what
happened last time you attacked me,” Tate taunted. “Just settle on down.”

A puzzled expression floated across
Umi’s face. “Why do you call him Tempest?”

Oops, she hadn’t really meant to
use his nickname out loud. Sheepishly, Tate admitted, “Because he’s like a
summer storm. All bluster.”

There was silence for a stunned
minute. Then Umi snapped open a fan and held it in front of her face while her
shoulders shook suspiciously. Her other guard covered his mouth with one hand,
but the snickers still escaped. Red crawled up Tempest’s normally almond
colored skin turning it almost maroon while he swore. It was several minutes
before Umi and the other guard gained control of themselves.

Tate crossed her arms and glanced
at Danny. He too had a slight smile on his face, but then he had had time to
get used to her odd naming practices. Tate shook her head. She didn’t think the
name was that funny, but maybe it was a cultural thing. She took the time to
satisfy her curiosity by examining the three.

Tate couldn’t get used to Umi’s
black eyes. It felt like they could look right through you and discover all
your secrets, exposing even the most closely guarded of thoughts to the light
of day. Tate shivered. She hoped not. If anybody was going to discover her
inner most thoughts it was going to be Tate. They were hers and nobody else’s.
She only held the gaze for a moment more before looking away. There was
something slightly off putting in Umi’s eyes, an almost detached intelligence.
It made Tate uncomfortable. The dragon’s thoughts scrapped against hers before
settling down as if it was agreeing with her assessment.

She’d seen the same eyes on a
Serilean Serpent right before it rammed the Marauder. That thing had eyes as
cold as the depths it had surfaced from, and it hadn’t cared about anything but
its needs.

The two guards on closer
examination did not have the same completely black eyes. Instead, their
abnormally large pupils only created the illusion of all-black eyes. They were
ringed with a blue so light that it looked almost white at first glance. It was
a little spooky, but eerily pretty.

Almost unnoticeable with their
darker skin were small patterns of golden scales across their hairline and jaw.

Tate looked at their hands. They
were normal. Perhaps the fingers were a bit longer than usual. She felt a
little cheated. She’d half been expecting webbing. It’d help them swim faster.
But, perhaps they didn’t swim.

Umi’s said with a distant politeness,
“Thank you for your kindness. It has been a difficult trip, and my guards and I
needed to be reminded that the world is not such a dark place.”

Tate refrained from mentioning she
hadn’t intended to provide them with entertainment.

What had made their trip difficult?
And what other traits did the Kairi have that differed from humans? She was
bubbling with questions. Danny, having guessed the line of Tate’s thoughts,
nudged her and shook his head. Begrudgingly, she bowed to his greater
experience.

“I am happy to have lightened your
burden,” she offered with a bow.

Umi’s lips barely moved as she
said, “I hope we meet again. It is unusual to run into someone such as
yourself.”

Tate got the sense she didn’t
necessarily mean it as a compliment. She straightened from her bow and nodded
stiffly. Perhaps she was being a bit harsh on the woman. Next to Umi’s beauty
and grace, Tate felt like a heathen.

“I wish you calm seas and favorable
tides,” Umi said inclining her head in an obvious dismissal. She and her guards
swept away. The only one to look back was Tempest. Tate snorted. His blush was
just beginning to fade. If looks could peal skin, Danny and Tate would be
walking around with their insides on the outside.

“I wonder if they can really hold
their breath for as long as Riply said they could,” Tate mused. “I didn’t see
gills, but maybe their lungs are larger than ours.”

She looked up at Danny. He had a
stupefied expression on his face, which Tate chose not to comment on as she
turned away sharply. It made him look like a landed fish, with his eyes all a
goggle in shock. It didn’t suit his normal personality at all.

It was a look Tate had been on the
receiving end of more than once. She had no idea why, though.

Gently, she reached out and closed
his gaping mouth. Really, what would he do if a fly flew in there? That’d just
be disgusting.

“Woah, Tate, you got into a fight
with the Kairi and walked away with all your limbs still attached.” A voice to
their right snapped Danny out of his daze as Trent popped out from one of the
stalls carrying a baked pastry. “I’ve never heard of anyone who tangled with
them and didn’t come out on the loosing end. You’re either crazy or— no, you’re
just crazy. Even Captain Jost steps lightly around them. They’re a very
dangerous people.”

The pastry was forgotten as he
flailed his arms in emphasis. Tate nodded indicating she was listening, but
meanwhile kept her eyes glued to the pastry. When it slumped in his hand,
seconds from dropping to the ground, she grabbed it and took a big bite. Her
eyes closed as the flavors of cherry and vanilla exploded on her tongue. She
loved cherry. Vanilla too.

“Ahh, what is it with you and
stealing my food?” Trent cried.

“Not my fault if you don’t pay
attention,” Tate mumbled around a full mouth.

“So, how’d you do it?” Trent asked,
his eyes pleading for answers. “I didn’t even see him swing but you— you were a
blur, and then suddenly you were both on the ground. Can you teach me?”

Tate chewed her pastry
thoughtfully. Teach, huh? Not likely. Often times Tate didn’t know how she was
going to move until she was already moving. Especially when she was in danger
it seemed muscle memory took over and guided her. It wasn’t smart relying on
such a thing, and it certainly wasn’t something she felt comfortable trying to
teach. At least not until she had a better grasp of self defense and what her
body had already learned. 

“And Danny. You were— it was simply
amazing the way you didn’t even think. You just had her back. Were you scared?
I bet you didn’t even think about it.” Trent’s eyes shone with hero worship for
Danny as his questions tumbled out.

Tate stifled a laugh at the look of
bewilderment on Danny’s face.

“If you saw the fight go down, why
didn’t you join in?” Tate teased.

“Uh,” Trent scuffed a foot on the
ground and looked around uncomfortably.

Tate held an angry face for another
minute and was pleased to see Danny had followed her lead, glaring at Trent
stonily.

She burst out laughing a second
later when he started turning a bright red. “I’m just picking on you, Trent. If
you’d jumped in, you would have probably gotten people hurt.”

Danny punched him playfully in the
shoulder in. Trent’s grin came back, and he bounced along beside them, already
off on another tangent. His hands moved excitedly through the air as the three
of them made their way out of the market and back towards the inn.

By the time they made it back to
the Crow’s Nest, the sun had begun to set, bathing Aurelia in shadows and gold.

The crowds on the streets had
thinned as the shadows from the city lengthened and deepened, the people
heading inside for dinner. One by one glow lights flickered on, powered by an
unseen source bound together with magic. The Marauder had one, but some ships
didn’t. Pirating work was profitable, but glow lights were considered a luxury
rather than a necessity at sea. Most cities with a population whose taxes could
support the cost had them, but many of the more provincial ones didn’t. Aurelia
being the empire’s crowning gem had enough for several on every street. It
never got fully dark in Aurelia.

A wall of noise greeted the three
as they entered the taproom of the Crow’s Nest. It was even more crowded than
it had been that morning as the night crowd started to get going. Musicians had
set up shop in a corner as waitresses fetched steaming platters of food and
refilled tankards with beer. The crowd was a mixture of all types, from the sea
rough traveler to the slightly unkempt regular.

A man from a table in the back
stood and waved at them.

“Captain!” Trent cried and made a
beeline for the table. Danny and Tate followed at a more sedate pace, winding a
twisting path around outstretched legs and more than one misplaced chair. Their
steps crunched as they walked over the discarded shells of nuts.

Tate grimaced at the slightly
sticky sensation of spilled beer. No stranger to pubs, she still didn’t like
the thought of what was on the floor being stuck to the bottom of her soft
leather boots. They were her only pair.

She dodged one man’s adventurous
hands and immediately skirted another’s. Her teeth clenched. Must. Not. Start.
Another. Fight. He was discouraged from trying again when Danny loomed over him
threateningly.

Danny, and Riply too, were her
unspoken champions among the crew, acting like she was a little sister. They’d
appointed themselves her protectors early on, threatening the others with death
and dismemberment if they stepped out of line. For someone with no family, it
was nice to be treated with such care.

She’d thought about going to them
with her problem since they’d helped keep the other men away from her. But with
the increase of hostility, it was better to leave it alone. It would be mighty
easy for her enemies to corner either one of her friends on one dark night and
simply toss them overboard. She wouldn’t be responsible for their deaths. Not
after all they’d done for her.

She’d miss them, though. More than
anybody else.

“Pull up a chair you two,” Jost
said when they reached him. “You can join us for dinner.”

Tate’s stomach rumbled a yes before
she could agree. She blushed as the men laughed but grinned good-naturedly.

“Good lord,” Trent said appalled.
“You just ate my pastry. How can you still be hungry?”

“Brat, someday you’ll learn there
are some things you just don’t say to women. That question right there is
number one on the list,” Tate retorted. She snagged a chair from a nearby table
and sat down. Danny did the same on the other side, and Jost was already
flagging down a waitress to request more food.

There were more tables in the room
now, and yet the din of conversation had dulled to a muted roar. It was much
quieter than when they had come in. She could still hear sounds from the room,
but they were now garbled and unintelligible.

She looked around suspiciously.

“Something wrong?” Jost asked as he
gave the room a casual once over. The other two had tensed beside her, and she
realized they thought she’d seen trouble.

“What happened to all the noise?”
she asked. Danny and Trent relaxed beside her.

“Sound dampeners,” Jost explained
tapping the flower arrangement in the center of the table. “The owner had them
installed at select tables. One blue Iris surrounded by several yellow daisies
means there is a dampener at that table. It’s so the less than upright patrons,
like us, can discuss business without having to worry that a Provost lad will
stick his nose where it doesn’t belong.”

Tate was saved from having to
respond by the arrival of her food. Her mouth began watering as soon as the
smells greeted her nose. The chicken was drenched in a rich red sauce and
accompanied by fresh vegetables and the softest, freshest bread she’d had in a
long time. She almost moaned as the yeasty dough practically dissolved in her
mouth. Several minutes passed as she devoted herself to her food. She looked up
as the quiet of the table registered on her. Everybody was staring at her.

“What?” she asked after she
swallowed another mouthful.

“You’d think we starved you while
on ship,” Jost said. He had leaned back in his chair and rested his arm
casually on its back. The black cloth of his pants and the blue of his shirt
outlined his body lovingly. It was a body shaped by the tough demands of ship
life. Any woman with a pulse would prefer his trim figure to some of the boys
softened by city life.

“Maybe you weren’t starving me, but
you certainly weren’t feeding me food of this quality.”

A robust laugh from behind Tate and
a large meaty hand on her shoulder startled her. “Well you can’t argue with
that, old friend. That pig’s swill you water rats eat can’t rightly be called
food.”

The owner of that hand was a large
fellow with a round belly covered by a stained white apron. His eyes were a
warm brown, and the corners crinkled with laughter.

“Compared to your food, I will
concede that ours does not compare. Though, I’ll deny that ‘til my dying day in
the presence of my cook,” Jost said pointing one finger at him.

“Of course, of course. You wouldn’t
want ol’ Matias to think you don’t appreciate his efforts. You might find you
have no lads to pull shift one night because they’re emptying their stomachs
over the rail.”

“What brings you out of the
kitchen, Ricky?” Jost asked.

“I heard one of my favorite
sneak-a-bouts was out here and hadn’t told me he was back in town.”

“I apologize. I had pressing
business and couldn’t get away until now.”

“Ah lad, I understand. I’m just
happy you’re here now,” Ricky said waving away Jost’s excuse.

Jost gestured to Tate. “Have you
met my friend Tate? She’s our newest recruit.”

“No, I haven’t.” Ricky grinned at
her and reached for her hand. He brought it to his lips and pressed a courtly
kiss on it before returning it to her. She smothered a giggle at his antics.
“How’d you get mixed up with this bunch?”

“We picked her up off of the
Duntilian coast in the northern reaches,” Jost said.