Dragon Stones (43 page)

They landed hard, T'Sian's wings kicking up a furious wind as she checked her downward momentum.  The tall, dead grass of Dunshandrin's plains waved and fluttered beneath them as they set down.  Tolaria half-climbed, half-fell off the dragon's back, sliding down the smooth scales to land ungracefully on the ground.  Her body felt stiff after hours of clinging to the great beast; even though the flight had been smooth and level, fear of falling had kept her muscles tense, and the warmth of the dragon's body hadn't quite been enough to overcome the chill of the wind.  She tried to stand, but a cramp in her leg felled her; Ponn came by, Prehn slung over his shoulders, and helped her to her feet.

Once they were all off her back, the dragon slunk off, moving some distance away until she was invisible in the darkness; soon, odd sounds emanated from that direction.  Diasa cocked her head, listening, and then said:  "Why does she go off like that?"

"I think that she doesn't like to change shape in front of others," Ponn said.

"Why not?"

He shrugged.  "Perhaps it would be like you or I changing clothes while everyone watched."

"A dragon with a sense of modesty?" Diasa shook her head and continued to look in the direction T'Sian had gone, although nothing was visible under the overcast sky.  "Are you sure that's why?  What happens when she changes?  Perhaps she becomes vulnerable and doesn't want us to see."

Ponn said:  "Do you think she doesn't trust us?"

"Do
you
trust
her
?"

He took some time before answering, and when he did, he seemed surprised at himself.  "Yes, I suppose I do."

"Well, I'm glad that you've found yourself a friend," Diasa said, "but as for myself, I will be keeping a close eye on her."

Ponn shrugged.  "Do as your nature dictates."  He yawned hugely; he looked as if he were about to fall over under the burden of his sleeping child.  His eyes were red as if from a night of heavy drinking, though of course it was irritation from wind and dust.  Tolaria's eyes felt gritty as well and probably looked no better than his.  "We must get some rest," he said.  "I have not had a proper night's sleep in days."

"Sleep," Tolaria said.  "I remember sleep.  It's something you do when you have no lecherous princelings trying to bed you or assassins trying to kill you."

"Once the dragon comes back, we'll go into town and find lodging, so we can hide Tolaria away from anyone who might recognize her or, worse, ask her a question," Diasa said.

"What's wrong with asking her a question?" Ponn said.

Diasa gave a thin smile.  "Tolaria, why would we want to avoid your being asked a question?"

"Because I am compelled to answer truthfully any question that is directed to me," Tolaria said; then she threw a scowl Diasa's way, annoyed at being made to perform like a sideshow attraction.  Diasa ignored it, if she even noticed at all.

"So you see, were some young rake to ask Tolaria what she was doing in town, she would cheerfully tell him that she was here to help infiltrate the castle and, if possible, destroy it," Diasa said.  "Therefore, she must be kept out of sight."

Tolaria sighed, not relishing the thought of becoming a prisoner once again.  "Yes, I suppose I must."

"Of course you must," Diasa said.  "It was bad enough that you were lounging around the common room of the inn at Achengate.  Here, there is no choice; you must stay hidden."

As Diasa spoke, T'Sian emerged from the darkness nearby, disguised once again as a human female.  In the dim light, she could perhaps pass for a woman, albeit an unusually sturdy one.  Qalor's poor vision might allow her to fool him, at least for a little while.

"Welcome back," Diasa said.  "That's a fascinating skill."

T'Sian gave her a frosty look.  "What skill?"

"Taking the shape of a human.  Why that, of all creatures?"

"Would you prefer something else?" T'Sian said.  "Perhaps you would like me to turn into a dog, so that I could whine and lick your hand?"

Diasa said:  "Can you?"

The dragon cast a long, withering glare Diasa's way; then she turned and stalked off toward the city.

"It would seem that she can't," Diasa said.

Just before first light, Ponn and the others reached the town square.  The space was paved with worn, cracked flagstones and had a dry fountain at its center; shuttered booths and closed-up tents surrounded it.  Evidently this was a sort of bazaar during the day.  Already vendors were opening some of the booths; smoke drifted from a few of them, carrying the promise of breakfast and reminding Ponn that he hadn't eaten recently.  Hunger played a brief tug-of-war with fatigue, and lost.

"There," Tolaria said, pointing at a lopsided two-story structure at the northwestern corner of the square.  A sign swayed in the breeze with the faint sound of hinges in need of oiling.  From this angle Ponn couldn't read the sign; as they approached he saw that it contained no writing, just a picture of a chair with a large, rusty nail on it, upon which a hefty man's posterior was about to descend.

Diasa eyed the building with evident suspicion.  "Are you sure this is an inn?"

"Yes," Tolaria said.  "I heard Talbrett's men talking about having rooms here.  The owner is supposed to be discreet."

"This is a sailors' flophouse?"  Diasa grimaced and peered around the narrow front porch, as if she had misplaced something.

"What are you looking for?" Tolaria said.

"Whores."

Ponn tried the door.  Barred.  As he gave it a few strong raps, he said:  "Just because sailors stay here doesn't mean it's infested with whores, Diasa."

"I'm sure they're here somewhere."

"Do you suppose they're hiding under the floorboards?"

She shrugged.  "Perhaps it's too early for them to be up."

Ponn shook his head, then turned his attention back to the door as he heard noises from the other side.  A panel opened several inches above his head, revealing a pair of red-rimmed eyes.  A gruff voice said:  "What do you want at this hour?"

"Rooms," Ponn said.

A grunt.  "Show me your money."

Tolaria stepped up, opened her pouch, and shook a few coins into her palm, then held them up for the eyes to see.  After another grunt, the little panel snapped closed.

"Charming fellow," Diasa murmured.

"Would you hush?" Ponn said, as he heard the bar being withdrawn.  "I'm sure we awakened him."  A moment later the door swung inward to admit them to the dark interior of the inn.  As they entered, the innkeeper—who was, in fact, at least a head shorter than Ponn—was walking away, carrying a three-legged stool.

"I'll see about the rooms," Tolaria said.

"You most certainly will not."  Diasa took the oracle's money pouch and went to talk to the proprietor.

T'Sian said, too loudly for comfort, "Why can we not use the money I took from the guards?"

"Because that's coin from Barbareth," Ponn whispered.  "The money Rennald gave Tolaria is from Dunshandrin."

"What difference does it make?  It's all metal."

"We don't want to use foreign currency now, especially not
that
foreign currency
.  Trust me.  Come, let's sit down."

Ponn went to a nearby bench and fell onto it.  If he stretched out on the cold, hard wood, he thought, he would be asleep within minutes.  He lay Prehn in his lap; she curled up, murmured something inaudible, and kept sleeping.  T'Sian stayed near the door as if on guard duty, but Tolaria joined him after a moment.  "I keep forgetting about my … problem."

"Perhaps it will wear off soon," Ponn said.

"I had hoped so, but now I think it is likely to be permanent.  The same thing happened to Wert, and he never recovered."

"But Wert was mad," Ponn said.  "You are not mad."

"Was he?  He didn't seem mad at the end.  Perhaps it took so much effort to keep himself lucid that he could only do it for short periods.  Perhaps eventually I'll find it too much effort to stay sane, too."

"Well, you seem perfectly all right to me," he said.  "And if you cannot lie, well, the world is already full of liars.  Someone who always speaks the truth would be a welcome change."

Tolaria smiled a little then, but he knew she was not reassured.  Why should she be?  The words of an innkeeper could hardly make a difference to the fate of an oracle.

Fate.  Oracle.  He could ask her about Pord, he suddenly realized, his heart quickening.  A simple question, and the uncertainty that had worried at him these past days would be resolved.  She might say Pord was home, safe, tending to his chores around the inn.  But what if she told him his son was dead?  What if she launched into a description of his last moments, perhaps spent in the hold of the ship, screaming in terror as the dragon ripped it apart?

In the end he couldn't find the words or the nerve to ask the question; and soon Diasa came back, returning Tolaria's pouch.  "He had two rooms available so I took them both.  One for Tolaria and myself, the other for Ponn and Prehn."

"What about T'Sian?"

Diasa glanced at the door, where the dragon stood, scowling at nothing in particular.  "I don't imagine she'll fancy sleeping in a human bed, but if she does, she'll no doubt want to stay with you."

"You're probably right."  Ponn stood and lifted Prehn, slinging her over his shoulder like a bundle of clothes for washing.  Tolaria stood as well, yawning immensely.  T'Sian watched them, hesitated, and then came to stand with them.  "It is arranged?" she said.

"Yes," Ponn said.

"Good.  I will sleep in Pyodor Ponn's room."

"Of course you will," Diasa said.

T'Sian awoke to sunlight filtering through the shutters of the room she shared with Ponn and his child.  She had elected to sleep on the floor; it seemed less humiliating, somehow, to stretch out there rather than on a bed that stank of men and their night-sweats.  The shoddily-constructed human furniture was likely to collapse under her weight anyway.

She sat up.  The floor groaned beneath her, but the beams in the room below were heavy and thick and she thought they would hold.  She stood.  Ponn and his daughter still slept; the sunbeam that had awakened her didn't yet touch the pallet that they shared.  She looked down at them for a little while.  Their thin blanket had slipped down a bit.  Ponn lay on his side, Prehn curled up against him, the top of her head beneath his chin; he had a protective arm laid across her.  She thought of her hatchlings.  When they were very small, they had all fit under her wings, and she would cover them during the cold mountain nights to keep them warm.

The dragon reached down and pulled the blanket up to Ponn's shoulders; then she turned away, left the room, moved along the hallway to the stairs and down to the common room.  A few patrons, all men, were finishing the remains of their morning meal, while a stout woman cleared dirty wooden bowls and platters.  T'Sian noticed Diasa sitting by the fire, using her fingers to scrape the last bits of gruel from a tureen, and went to join her.

Without looking at her, Diasa said:  "You're up early."

"Not as early as you," T'Sian said.

"I only slept for a few hours.  I had … bad dreams."  Then, after a few moments of silence:  "Are you going to stand there all morning?  Sit down."

T'Sian lowered herself into one of the chairs, ready to spring to her feet if her mass crushed it.  Diasa didn't appear to be paying much attention, but then she said:  "How much do you weigh, exactly?"

"I do not know.  How much do
you
weigh?"

"Less than you, I'd wager.  But you can't possibly weigh as much in that form as you do in your other.  Where does the rest of you go?"  T'Sian only grunted; such an impertinent question hardly rated an answer.  
"I gather you don't know that, either."  Then, after setting her bowl aside:  "Are you interested in breakfast?"

"No."

"You remind me of a snake.  It eats, and then can go for weeks without another meal."

"Do I
look like a snake to you?"

"Last night you did, a little bit."

"I am not a common reptile."

"I don't suggest that you are.  I just wondered if you fed like one, that's all."

"How I feed is no concern of yours."

"I like how your scales turn into clothing.  Are they still as hard now as they are in your true form?"

"Yes.  Almost."

"May I touch them?"

"No.  Why do you ask so many questions?"

"I never met a dragon before.  I don't want to squander the opportunity to learn a little bit about you."

"I am not here for you to study," T'Sian said.  "I am here for vengeance.  When are we going to find this alchemist the oracle spoke of?"

"Soon.  However, I'd suggest you not refer to her that way when we're in public."  Diasa stood.  "Let's see if she's awake."

"Very well."  T'Sian followed Diasa up the stairs to the room that the warrior woman shared with Tolaria.  They found the oracle asleep in her bed, lying on her back, breathing slowly.