Silver Dragon Codex (13 page)

elen’s silver wings reflected the bright morning sunlight, shining like falling stars over the thick green forest. They’d left Belen’s tower before the sun was fully in the sky, aware that the flight would take several hours. It was easier to go straight south than it had been to wander west in search of the tower. They knew where they were going, and the circus banners guided them as they came close. Eventually, those banners turned from bright spots on the horizon to fluttering pennants of silk, and Belen glided to the ground at the edge of the forest. “We’ll walk from here,” she said, transforming into her human guise, “so that the sight of a dragon doesn’t frighten anyone.”

“That’s right,” Cerisse chuckled. “The noon show! We’ll get there right about the time everyone in the crowd is in their seats.”

“We might even catch a bit of Hautos’s barbell juggling.” Belen smiled. “I can’t wait to see Worver and
tell him everything. He’ll be so happy to know I didn’t hurt those people.” She beamed. Belen was much calmer this morning than she had been the day before. Having left behind the fears of the village and her anger at the tower, she walked down the path toward the circus with a light, determined step.

The last of the crowd was trailing in when the companions reached the outer ring of circus tents. Brilliantly colored pennants and banners fluttered in the strong wind. Street music filled the air, and the musicians’ faces turned red as a clown’s nose as they blew into their instruments. A few stragglers were still making their way into the big three-ring tent, dragging unruly children behind them.

The four friends passed the ticket-sellers with a friendly wave and a smile, passing beneath the gigantic, arched sign painted in reds and yellows that declared Worver’s Amazing Celestial Circus of Light to be both incredible and mind-boggling. Cerisse bought them all popcorn. They hadn’t eaten since they’d left the tower that morning, and Jace’s stomach was churning from the salty smell of buttered corn and sweet caramel apples.

They slipped into the main tent, the sound of music jangling in their ears, and let themselves follow the crowd toward the seats. A performance was occurring in the central ring, highlighted by the blaze of three white spotlights.
“That’s not Hautos,” Jace said, eyes widening. “What is Worver doing?”

Down in the main ring, Worver had brought three large cages forward, each big enough to hold a horse. Inside these were man-sized wolves … no …

“Are those werewolves?” Cerisse spluttered, choking on some popcorn.

At a snap of Worver’s whip and a quick tug on a silver chain held tightly in his other hand, the werewolf in the first cage roared and rose up onto its hind legs, swiping at the air. Worver guided it out of the cage by the chain, dragging the beast by a thick leather collar around its neck. With a few more snaps of the ringmaster’s whip, the werewolf walked over to a stool and clambered upon it like one of Worver’s trained lions.

“What is he doing?” Belen gasped. “Where did he get those werewolves?”

“Mantano,” Ebano pointed, bursting in excitement. “Mantano!”

He was pointing at the locks and links of Worver’s restraints. “Silver?” Jace asked. “Is that what ‘mantano’ means?”

Ebano nodded in glee, finally learning the word he’d wanted. “Yes! Silver!”

“That’s what you use against werewolves? Wish we’d
known about that when they were attacking us,” Cerisse groused. Jace elbowed her and she yelped. “What?”

“Those are
people
, Cerisse! Cursed and altered, but still humans who lived in the village of Angvale. They’re not performance animals—they’re slaves!”

Worver’s voice boomed magically through the massive tent. “These amazing beasts are a remnant of royal wolf blood, once interbred with elves! Their twisted form—part elf, part wolf—is sign of their true nobility among the beasts of the forest. No predator can stand against them! No animal is their equal! You will see for yourselves in these few simple tricks that they have the form of an animal—but the intelligence of a man!” The crowd cheered wildly as Worver made the three werewolves do a few simple tricks—catching a ball and throwing it back, holding a hoop while another jumped through it, and counting to three when he showed them a row of brightly colored triangles.

“I hope one of them breaks out of that collar and bites him!” Jace snarled. “How could he do this?”

“He must not know. Worver would never enslave a person—he has to think they’re just unusual animals. He probably had someone looking for us in the woods around Angvale,” Belen guessed, “and found some of the wolves near the village. He might not even know what they are, other
than magical beasts like the others he trains for the circus. We’ve got to get backstage and explain everything.”

They crept backstage, pushing their way through crowds and sidling between rows of thrilled onlookers. The guards keeping audience members from the red curtains at the rear recognized them, greeting them in hushed whispers and quiet handshakes before pulling aside the velvet to let them slip past.

Worver’s captured werewolves were rolled through shortly after, locked once again in their cages. The ringmaster followed behind them, rubbing his hands together in glee and chattering with the animal handlers. When his eyes fell on the companions, they opened as wide as platters, and he let out a joyful crow. “My dear, dear Belen! Jace! Cerisse and Ebano! You’re back! And you’re safe—thank goodness!” Worver clapped Ebano on the shoulder and reached to squeeze Cerisse’s arm. “Did you find what you were looking for? Mysos—that horrible mage—has had his fingers in every single nook and cranny of this circus. He’s nearly driven Hautos to drink, you know, with his poking about.”

“No, Worver, actually—” Jace started.

“Worver,” Belen said, “what are these creatures doing here? Don’t you know they’re dangerous?”

“My dear, my dear! Let’s not forget what’s truly
important—your well-being! Tell me, did you discover anything? Can we clear your name?” Before she could answer, Worver’s little pet, the strange horned monkey, ran up his leg and perched on his shoulder with a chirping hiss. “Yes, yes, Tsusu, you’re absolutely right. Perhaps we should have this conversation elsewhere, eh, my friends?” Worver winked, throwing his arm around Jace’s shoulder. The beast snarled down at the boy, a thin line of drool connecting its upper fangs and lower jaw. “Come with me. We’ll talk about it in one of the private wagons after these splendid beasts have been put away.”

They followed Worver as he extolled the virtues of his new pets, with Jace struggling to get a word in edgewise. “Those beasts …” the boy tried again as they wound their way through the next set of performers and out into the open area behind the main tent. Jace, Cerisse, and Belen hurried along behind Worver, trying to keep up with the ringmaster’s long, swift strides.

“Oh, yes! Exceptional, aren’t they? Well, when you four didn’t return after a whole day, I sent Hautos after you to make certain you were all right. The storm and all—we were terribly worried, you know. Trees fell down from the winds, and the rain nearly made the roof of the tent collapse, the water was so heavy. Trouble everywhere! And then you, not coming home to tell us you were all
right, what was I supposed to think?” Worver shook his head. “While he was out there looking for you, Hautos found these amazing creatures! They can’t be harmed. They are almost as intelligent as you or I—”

“Almost?” Belen bristled, but Worver didn’t notice.

“They learn quickly and are able to replicate any trick I teach them. They’re really quite amazing. They gave Hautos a bit of a rumble when he first captured them, tore into him quite fiercely, but the circus has ways of healing injured performers, you know that.” Quickly, he shifted the subject, eager to excite them with his find. “It was Tsusu who used silver on them first while we were trying to get them into cages. Wonderful idea! Worked like a charm.” Worver puffed up, smiling widely.

“Hautos was hurt?” Belen and Jace shared a glance. Jace went on, “Ringmaster, he might be in serious trouble! They might have … uh …”—he fumbled for some justification, suddenly uncomfortable telling the friendly ringmaster the whole truth—“diseases!”

“Oh, now, Jace my boy, don’t you worry about that. I’ve got secret healing ways to keep this circus in running order, you know.” Worver puffed out his chest and laid a finger beside his nose conspiratorially. “Didn’t Francis the Firebreather turn out just fine even after that unfortunate oil spill? And when Ringo, the lion, had that accident with
his claw—well that worked itself out quickly, you remember? No worries, my dear boy, have no worries at all!” Worver slapped Jace’s shoulder, knocking the boy forward. “I love southern Solamnia! It seems every time I come to this area, something wonderful happens for the circus. First, Belen joined us—and you are staying, dear, aren’t you? You’ve found a way? Ah, right, right, not here, we’re almost to the wagon. Well, now, as for these magnificent beasts! Marvelous, just marvelous. They’ll bring in a lot of good solid coin, I can tell you that.”

“Ringmaster Worver!” Cerisse broke in. “You can’t keep them!”

“What?” he paused in the main clearing between the circus wagons. “Of course I can! They’re wild animals. No one owns them. Once we teach them a few more tricks, tame them a bit more, we can use them with the lions or let them perform on their own. You haven’t had a chance to watch them really go through their tricks yet, but they’re just—”

“People!” Belen cried out at last, clenching her fists. “They’re people, Worver! You can’t treat them like animals! They feel and they think, and they have rights!”

“Whatever are you talking about, poor girl?” Worver let go of Jace and reached to take Belen’s hand. He patted it gently, roughing the skin of her wrist as if to wake her
from a faint. “They’re beasts! Splendid beasts.” He leaned closer. “Money-making beasts!”

Jace’s skin crawled. Worver had always been a bit money-hungry, but the way he talked about those poor, cursed werewolves was awful—even if they’d chased Jace and nearly killed him. Jace struggled with it for a few minutes, trying to justify Worver’s point of view, but in the end he just couldn’t keep quiet. “I agree with Belen. It’s slavery to keep them. You have to let them go.”

Worver patted his shoulder. “We’ll discuss it later, dear boy. First, I want to hear everything that happened to you and my dear Belen.”

Tsusu howled softly on the ringmaster’s shoulder, running back and forth behind his head so quickly it jostled Worver’s top hat. “Now, now.” Worver let go of Belen and tried to soothe the beast. Turning to Jace and the others, the ringmaster said, “Let’s go inside and settle all this. It’s obvious that something’s upset you. Difficult journeys can do that to you. We’ll sit down and have a nice talk inside my wagon.” Worver reached for Belen’s elbow to encourage her along.

Belen pulled her arm out of the ringmaster’s grip with a glare. “No. This is more important. Worver, aren’t you listening? Those animals you have locked up, they’re people under a curse, don’t you see? That’s what we found out.” She grabbed his sleeve and forced him to stop.

“Are you sure, my dear? Perhaps you’re mistaken.” Worver looked flustered.

“We’re very sure.” Belen met his eyes squarely. “You have to let them go.”

“I … I can’t do that! We have shows planned, tickets that are already sold …”

“I can’t work with a circus that keeps slaves, Worver.” Belen was unshakable, and Jace felt tremendously proud. She’d never stood up to Worver before. Maybe this was a little bit of the dragon coming out? Whatever it was, Jace agreed with it.

“Me neither,” Jace chimed in. Cerisse was quick to nod. Jaced looked around to see what Ebano thought.

Wait a minute. Where was Ebano?

“You can’t possibly mean this, Belen! This is mutiny. After everything I’ve done for you?” Worver seemed genuinely hurt. He clasped one hand over his heart, his mustache trembling with woe.

“I do mean it. I have to, Worver. I learned a lot while we were gone, and I know who—and what—I am now. There are things I just can’t allow to happen. I hope you understand.” Her voice shook a little, and Jace could see what it took for her to stand up to the man who had saved her in the woods and given her a home.

“You really are the dragon?” Worver’s voice fell, his
eyes wide. He looked at each of them, eyes questing for the truth.

“Yes,” Belen said.

Worver turned back to Belen, considering. “And you’re serious about leaving?”

“Yes.” Belen lifted her head, her hair tossing about her shoulders. “And more, I’m going to free those werewolves and put them back in the forest whether you like it or not. I’m sorry, ringmaster, but you can’t convince me that keeping them is anything but slavery.”

“Well, I don’t suppose I can convince you to change your mind, my dear, but I must say that you’ve put me in a very difficult spot. I simply can’t let them go. I’ve already got too much money wrapped up in them, you see.” He paused, sighed, and brushed his handkerchief across his forehead. “If you must go, I understand that, but please, at least allow me to offer you a place to stay the night and clean up. Here, there’s a spare wagon right beside the animal cages. You can go in there, wash up, and I’ll speak to Master Mysos and see if he’ll meet with you tonight or in the morning. You must be simply exhausted. You’re quite sure it’s not just the weariness talking?”