The Dragon Machine (Magebreakers Book 3) Read online

  “Thank you for coming,” said Iskar. “I apologize for all of this. My friends, let me introduce Bittik and Kirga Vreeg. Mister Carver, Kadka, these are the ones I meant for you to meet with after the rally.”

  Bittik Vreeg’s long neck convulsed with an anxious swallow. “Iskar, we can’t… not in front of…” He glanced at a human bluecap standing by the door. “We should go.”

  “Please, Bittik,” Iskar said. “Stay. Just give us a short moment, and I think we can resolve this.” He turned to Indree. “Inspector Lovial, I hope you’ll forgive me, but now that the crisis has passed… I know that you can be trusted, but you must understand, not everyone is comfortable speaking with the constabulary, given the actions of some of your number.” He was being polite, as usual—Kadka would have called out Chief Constable Durren and his wheedling, politically-minded ilk by name.

  Indree shrugged. “It’s fine. We’ve taken a lot of people into custody already for idiocy during the riot, and I need to confirm that there wasn’t a larger plan in place. I’ve got a lot of questioning to do. We’ll leave you be.” She waved a hand, and her bluecaps started filing out the door. “You’ll let me know if you learn anything else on your end?”

  Iskar nodded. “Of course.”

  “And watch yourself,” Indree said. “It might be best to keep to your safehouses for a while, with guards. Even if it was just one crazy man acting on his own, someone did almost kill you today.”

  “I will be mindful, Inspector Lovial,” Iskar said solemnly.

  “Good.” Indree glanced at Kadka. “I could give you the same warning, but I know you’re not going to stay holed up.”

  Kadka grinned at her. “This is why we are friends. You understand me.”

  “Enough to know that anyone who comes after you is asking for a broken jaw,” Indree said with a slight grin of her own. She looked to Carver, then. “Tane, I’ll be tied up with this for a while. I might not have time for—”

  He waved her off with a slight smile. “It’s fine. Go deal with this. Someone has to.” He was a good liar, but Kadka saw the smile falter when Indree turned for the door. She didn’t know exactly what was happening between those two, but they’d been spending less time together in the past few weeks.

  “So what’s this about?” Carver asked once Indree and the bluecaps were gone, turning his attention toward Bittik and Kirga. “If you two have a job for us, you could have come to the office.”

  Kirga Vreeg tugged at a lock of her thin brown hair. “We didn’t want anyone to see us. With everything going on in the city… it’s hard enough already for a goblin family to fit in and be left alone, and if it was known we’d gone to the Magebreakers…”

  “When they came to me, I suggested a meeting away from your office,” said Iskar. “I believe you’ll want to hear what they have to say.”

  “We understand.” Kadka offered the goblins her best smile, trying not to show her teeth—sometimes that made people in Thaless nervous. “Tell us what is wrong. Is something we can help with, then we help.”

  Carver nodded in agreement. “I’m all ears.”

  “It’s our daughter, Tinga,” said Bittik Vreeg. “She’s missing, and… well, she’s been in a lot of these Silver Dawn demonstrations. The way things are right now, we… we’re worried someone might have seen her there, and… done something to her.” He didn’t say “Knights of the Emperor” specifically, but the fear was written plain on his face.

  “We tried to warn her,” said Kirga. “Best not to stand out. But she’s been so different lately, since her father—” She cut herself off, looked to Bittik with a question in her eyes.

  “Since I lost my job,” Bittik finished for his wife. “I worked in one of the ancryst quarries until three weeks ago. When they cut me loose, Tinga said it was unfair. Prejudice. She got so angry when we told her to let it go… she left that night.”

  “Left?” Carver raised an eyebrow. “You mean she ran away?”

  “Yes,” said Kirga. “She’s… she’s been on her own since. We didn’t know where she was staying, or how to get her to come home.”

  “Right,” said Carver. “Then… I don’t know to put this, but are you sure…”

  Kadka was sympathetic toward the goblin couple, but this kind of tact only wasted time. “Is not just that she still avoids you? Maybe doesn’t want finding?” Their daughter sounded spirited, which she respected. It was good not to just roll over and accept that the world was unfair. Hard on the mother and father, but children had been giving their parents grey hairs over such things for as long as there had been parents and children.

  Kirga shook her head. “No, no. We didn’t know where she was, but she always found ways to check in. Friends with notes and messages. Until this week. Six days ago. That’s when…” Her voice caught and her eyes grew wet, but she swallowed and went on. “That’s when we stopped hearing from her.”

  “No one in the Silver Dawn has seen her since that time either,” Iskar interjected. “But I did find that she had been staying at a camp of sorts, outside a Hall of the Astra in Greenstone. Locals call it the Nest. A popular spot for those who have nowhere else to go. The bondsman of the hall offers food when he can, and turns no one away. My agents spoke with him, and he claims others have gone missing from the Nest as well. It is my hope that you two can help find them.” His tail twitched behind him, and there was something in his blue eyes, a certain urgency. More of his secrets, or just concern for the missing?

  “Others?” Carver asked, straightening from the wall. “That could be something. Even if it’s not Endo, it sounds… suspicious. Maybe enough to take to the bluecaps, which you’re not doing. I’m not saying I disagree, but I’m curious. Why?”

  “The constabulary tend not to spend a great many resources on such investigations,” said Iskar, a slight tone of disapproval in his voice. “These are people who are… difficult to account for at the best of times. It is easy enough to dismiss it when they disappear.”

  “And we don’t want trouble,” said Bittik. “Bluecaps snooping around our homes, or our neighbors… it’s as likely to bring more problems as solve anything.”

  Kirga turned her dark eyes on Kadka. “Please,” she said. “You of all people must understand, Miss Kadka. We need help, and for people like us, it’s hard to find. We can’t pay much, but…”

  Kadka didn’t hesitate. She’d agreed to speak for the Silver Dawn for exactly this reason: to help people on the fringes, just like her. She was a citizen of the Protectorate now, and that made it her fight. “We will find her. Right, Carver?” She gave him a pointed glance.

  “We’ll do everything we can,” Carver agreed. “You’re right about the bluecaps. They’d trample all over this and get less done than we can. As for pay, we can work something out. Nothing more than you can afford.”

  “Oh, thank you!” Kirga’s thin lips rose almost imperceptibly, the first time her worried frown had lifted at all since she’d entered.

  Iskar put a hand on Kadka’s shoulder, and gave her a grateful smile. “I knew that you would not let this pass.” Again, she had the sense that this mattered more to him than he was saying. Which was fine—if he thought it was important, there had to be a good reason. That was enough.

  “Not so good at letting things pass, since I meet you.” Kadka grinned at him, and reached up to squeeze the hand resting on her shoulder.

  Carver snorted. “Right, because you were so demure before he came along.”

  Kadka flashed him an obscene Svernan gesture she knew he wouldn’t understand, and turned to kiss Iskar sloppily on the snout with exaggerated gusto. Iskar’s eyes widened slightly, but he put a muscular arm around her waist. Another thing she liked about him—he wasn’t too modest for a little bit of affection. She grinned to herself when she heard Carver groan behind them.

  “I’m sorry about her,” he said to the Vreegs. “It’s best to just look away.” When Kadka glanced back, all three of them were averting their e
yes, although Gurtle was watching from her spot by the door with an amused smirk on her face.

  Iskar cleared his throat self-consciously, despite the fact that he’d been very evidently enjoying himself a moment before. He didn’t move his arm from her waist, though. “My apologies. We… sometimes get carried away.”

  Kadka cackled aloud at the lot of them. “You Audish. So uncomfortable with best things in life. Is sad.”

  Carver rolled his eyes. “If you’re quite done, maybe we can get back to business? This Nest seems like the place to start. Hopefully we’ll find something there.” He looked to Kirga and Bittik. “Can you give us a description of your daughter to work with?”

  Kirga bobbed her head eagerly. “Of course. She’s just sixteen years old, about five feet four inches tall. Pale green skin, like ours. Brown hair down to just below her shoulders, but she ties it into a tail sometimes. She has a scar, here.” She marked a small crescent on her right cheek with one finger. “Darker green. She burned herself playing with an engraving wand when she was little.” With her left hand, she rummaged into a pocket of her trousers, and came up with a small tangle of brown hair. “This is hers. For divination. We… we didn’t know where to go with it, but they say the Magebreakers have connections for that.”

  Carver looked impressed. “We can definitely use this. But we might need to speak with you again, and depending on what we find, we may not want to wait to arrange another meeting through Iskar. I know you don’t want to be seen with”—he grimaced slightly—”The Magebreakers, but say we come in… hoods or something, can we meet with you at your house?”

  “I… I suppose, if you’re careful,” Bittik said, though he didn’t sound very certain.

  “Will not be seen,” Kadka assured him. “Promise.”

  Kirga took her husband’s hand. “It’s fine. Just… find Tinga.”

  After another convulsive swallow, Bittik nodded his head, once. “Please.” Then, with quiet resignation, “If someone else hasn’t already.”

  Chapter Three

  _____

  THE HALL OF Spirit’s Hearth was ramshackle even compared to the humble Halls of the Astra Tane was accustomed to in Porthaven. A long, squat building with a gabled roof shedding shingles and walls of crumbling brick, it almost seemed to cower in the shadows of the bulky warehouses and factories that surrounded it. Above a faded sign painted with the words “All are welcome in the light of the Astra”, one of the front windows had been broken and boarded over. The silver four-pointed star above the door was tarnished almost entirely black. The grounds were unkempt and overgrown with weeds, but the space was relatively large, especially for a cramped district like Greenstone—the space enclosed by the dilapidated perimeter wall was easily four or five times the size of the building itself.

  Which was good, because just about every inch of that space was crowded with makeshift tents and bedding made of assorted rags and ancient editions of the Thaless Gazette. The camp—called the Nest by locals, apparently—was teeming with people who had nowhere else to go, most of whom looked like they hadn’t had a good bath or meal in a very long time. Goblins and kobolds more than the other sentient races, Tane noticed immediately, though there were dwarves and humans and sprites too, and he even caught a short glimpse of a man he thought might have been an elf. There were such places in Porthaven too. The poorer districts had more than their share of citizens who had lost everything through some tragedy or stroke of bad luck.

  Kadka’s yellow eyes moved across the camp with keen interest, and then she looked at Tane. “If Silver Dawn don’t find this girl, you think we can?”

  “I think they’d have probably found her if she was easy to find, and it’s not a good sign if there are others missing too. But she sounds like she’s got an independent streak and a point to make. She could still be hiding somewhere of her own free will, trying to give her parents a scare.”

  Kadka grinned. “If this is what she does, good for her. Is point worth making.”

  “I’d certainly have to respect her nerve,” Tane agreed. He’d faced the streets of Thaless on his own when he was around Tinga’s age, and it wasn’t easy. “But three weeks might be taking it a little far. Still, I hope that’s all it is. If so, the divination focus should get us to her.” He’d asked Liana Greymond—his old mentor at the University, and now its Chancellor—to help him with that as a favor, but she was busy until later in the evening. Until then, he and Kadka would have to poke around without magic. Better to get a read on the situation before muddying the water with spells anyway.

  They reached the doors beneath the tarnished silver star, and Kadka pushed them open. Tane followed her through. Inside, a long hall led up to a worn wooden podium with another four-pointed star engraved in the front. Benches lined a central aisle on both sides, the varnish on the seats worn through in a series of vaguely posterior-shaped spots. Some of them were occupied by people presumably communing with the Astra, heads bowed and hands clasped over the heart; a few were simply being used as beds.

  A brown-haired elven man in a deep blue tunic and trousers with a silver four-pointed star pinned to his breast strode down the aisle to greet them. A bondsman’s attire. “Welcome to the Hall of Spirit’s Hearth,” he said in a soft voice. “I am Bondsman Laeris. Can I help you, or do you merely wish to commune?” Up close, Tane could see that Laeris’ blue clothes were patched and faded, but the silver star at his breast was polished clean, unlike the one outside.

  “I hope you can help,” said Tane. “I’m Tane Carver, and this is Kadka. We’re looking for a girl named Tinga Vreeg, on behalf of her parents. We were told you keep track of the comings and goings in the camp outside.”

  “Ah,” said Laeris. “You must be with the Silver Dawn, then? I’m glad you came back. I’ve tried speaking to the authorities, but no one else seems very concerned. As I told your agents before, the girl was here with her friend, but I haven’t seen either of them for perhaps a week.”

  “We’re… free agents, actually,” said Tane, somewhat relieved that the bondsman hadn’t immediately recognized them as the Magebreakers. “But we’ve spoken with the Silver Dawn as well. You mentioned a friend?”

  “Yes,” Laeris affirmed. “A human girl, Cestra. She has been taking shelter here on and off for years. I believe she had taken it upon herself to look out for Tinga.”

  “So Tinga was here long enough to make friends,” said Tane. “When did she first arrive?”

  Laeris considered for a moment. “I would say perhaps two weeks before she went missing.”

  That fit the timeline—not long after she’d left home. “And this Cestra, could she have gotten her into something dangerous?”

  Laeris shook his head decisively. “Oh, I think not. Cestra wouldn’t hurt a fly. A sweet girl. Orphaned, in and out of homes all her life, but never troublesome.”

  Tane knew that story well enough. He’d lived it. “And Tinga wasn’t in any trouble herself that you know of?”

  “No, no,” said Laeris. “She was out of her element, certainly, but Cestra kept a close eye on her. I think they were both happy to have a friend here their own age. They seemed very close.”

  Tane was running out of useful questions. “And there was no one else here who might have had a problem with them? Or showed them any unwelcome attention?”

  “I wouldn’t allow that, Mister Carver,” Laeris said with a stern frown. “There are rules at Spirit’s Hearth. No one stays if they cannot respect their fellow boarders. If someone had untoward intentions towards the young ladies, they weren’t staying here.”

  “What about others missing?” asked Kadka. “Any of them have enemies, trouble?

  Laeris sighed. “As I say, not here. Elsewhere… well, it is a big city. I wish I could help you more.”

  Kadka shrugged. “Can’t say more than you know. What about number? How many?”

  Laeris frowned. “Five, perhaps six. It’s hard to say. No matter how hard I try, I sometimes lo
se track of the poor souls who stay here. I can’t say for certain that they haven’t simply wandered to another part of the city. But some in the camp certainly seem to think otherwise.”

  Tane raised an eyebrow at that. “So there’s rumors. Maybe witnesses? Anyone in particular that we might talk to? Someone who might have seen what happened to Tinga or Cestra, or at least seen them that night?”

  Laeris shook his head sadly. “I’m afraid I haven’t been able to find anyone. I asked around when the Silver Dawn first came to me. I am sorry—I fear I’ve been little use to you.”

  “Any information is better than none,” said Tane. He’d hoped to find more too, but the bondsman looked dejected enough without him saying so. “What about any of the other disappearances? If someone witnessed any one of them, that could give us something.”

  “Well, there are some who would be happy to regale you with tales and conspiracies, but it might be difficult to tell real information from fancy.” Laeris stroked his chin with a long, delicate finger, and then his face brightened. “Although… yes! I believe I know someone. Come, I can bring you to her.”

  The bondsman led them out and around the side of the hall, onto the crowded grounds. Passing through the camp, Tane quickly became conscious of a great many eyes watching him with obvious suspicion. He wasn’t wealthy by any stretch, but he was practically an ancryst tycoon compared to these people, and he had the feeling they could sense it. And that if not for Laeris, he and Kadka might have had to contend with something more dangerous than just suspicion, at least from some. What sufferance they were afforded was clearly based on the bondsman’s presence—he had a smile and a kind word for everyone they met, seemed to know everyone’s names and at least a little bit about their lives.