Path of the Flame (The Dragon Thief Book 1) Read online

  The dragon claw was warm in his hand, and as he turned it over, flipping it from side to side, he traced it around the center of his palm, feeling the heat where it touched. The act itself felt soothing and left his skin pleasantly tingling.

  “You trying to decide whether you want to make the deal?” Bingham asked.

  “I’m trying to decide how much to sell you,” Ty said

  “Who else are you going to sell to?”

  Ty shook his head. “I’m not telling you all of my secrets.”

  Bingham grunted. “Now you’re going to hold out on me?”

  Bingham took several of the bones and slipped them beneath the cupboard, out of view. When he was done, he reached into another cabinet and pulled out his box full of coins. Ty figured that he was one of the few people who actually knew where the box of coins could be found. That Bingham allowed him this knowledge was a measure of his trust in Ty. Not that he would dare steal from him. Bingham was his mentor and had been his friend, but he knew he would suffer the same fate as anybody else who tried to cross him if Ty ever dared to steal from him.

  “I heard that there might be one of the Tecal in the city,” Ty stated.

  Bingham froze. “Which one?”

  Ty frowned. “I don’t know. I don’t know enough about the Tecal to know the difference between them.”

  “They’re dangerous,” Bingham said, his voice going soft. “They could make you disappear and no one would know.”

  “Why would you say that?”

  “I don’t think that’s what happened to your mother,” Bingham said, waving his hand. “The damn woman just disappeared. You know what she was interested in.”

  “Which might draw the Tecal’s notice,” Ty said.

  “It would be more likely to draw the notice of the Dragon Touched.”

  “The men on the expedition were talking about them as well. Apparently, there are three of the king’s own in the city.”

  “It’s only one of the three I’d be concerned about.” Bingham leaned on the counter and looked over to Ty, frowning. “A man I know only as the Wyn Killer. Dangerous. He’s searching for power, wanting to claim as much of it as possible, and he’s ruthless.”

  Ty had heard some of the stories. “I think those are mostly rumors.”

  “Rumors with enough of a nugget of truth that the other Dragon Touched are afraid of him,” Bingham said. “I wouldn’t care about any rumor, but the specific one I’ve heard does concern me—and it should concern you too. That’s why I don’t want anything to do with the Dragon Touched. Not while he’s here.”

  “Why would he even be here? Did you hear anything about what the expedition found? Other than pearls?”

  Bingham shrugged. “From the size of what they found, I suspect it’s significant.” He glanced to the satchel. “Think about it. You’ve snagged a prize, but even that isn’t probably enough to have made much of a difference to the king.”

  A Tecal, along with a significant presence of Dragon Touched, suggested there was something else to the find. It had to be about more than just bones—and the possibility of dragon pearls.

  Which would explain why there were so many archaeologists at that campsite, as well as the priests. There was something else going on.

  He needed to go back and figure it out. Either he went back to the camp and searched the wagons, or he might have to join the expedition.

  That would be the prize. Then again, that might also draw him the wrong kind of attention, the kind of focus and notice he had wanted to avoid.

  “The king’s men were concerned about the Dragon Thief,” Ty stated.

  Bingham looked over and said, “Another myth.”

  “You sure about that?” he asked. “We’ve heard the stories. There’s somebody out there who’s active. Skilled, too.”

  “Stupid,” Bingham said. “Pitting himself against the king? That’s going to bring too much danger upon him. Last I heard, he had gone after a massive relic.”

  Unlike dragon remnants, the bones and the claws that had a persistent warmth to them, the relic sculptures were smooth and cool. The obsidian was incredibly hard, much harder than the obsidian from Ishantil, which left him believing it was from someplace else. The one remnant that Bingham had on his shelf was incredibly detailed. He could make out the contours of the dragon, the structure of the wings, and the way the creature looked at him—something in its eyes practically calling out to him, demanding his attention. It was so realistic that it wouldn’t have surprised him if the sculpture suddenly started moving.

  “I thought you were moving this to the king,” Ty said, gesturing to the relic on Bingham’s shelf.

  “That takes time. He can’t know I’m involved,” Bingham replied.

  “I know he likes the bones because he thinks they benefit his Dragon Touched, but it seems to me the quality of this sculpture would be far more valuable.”

  “He knows the sculpture is pretty, which is why he’s the only one who’ll buy it. I just have to be careful getting it to him so he can’t track it back to me. The bones can go to any Dragon Touched, but the sculptures… those are for the king only.” Bingham shrugged. “All the king cares about is whether or not something is tied to the dragons and their power.”

  Ty turned the sculpture so that it didn’t seem to look at him so intensely.

  Ty wasn’t exactly sure what he was going to have to do next. Bingham often gave him his jobs, suggesting places he could target, and most of the time, those places were of interest to the king. Ty didn’t have any difficulty with that. He had no real love for the king, though he also didn’t want to antagonize him unnecessarily.

  “You’re looking at me like you think I’ve got something more for you.”

  Ty shrugged. “Don’t you?”

  “I got more mouths to feed than yours,” Bingham said.

  “I just thought—”

  “You just thought that because I knew your mother, I would only use you.” Bingham looked back down to the sculpture, shaking his head. “She’s been gone long enough that whatever relationship the two of us had is gone—and whatever you and I have needs a little work.” He looked up at Ty. “Don’t think I don’t know how you’ve been trading with Maggie.”

  Ty held his gaze on Bingham. He had thought he had managed to keep that part of his business quiet. Why would he think he could keep anything from Bingham?

  “I’m just looking for information,” Ty said.

  “Then go find it yourself,” Bingham replied.

  “What do you think I’m doing?”

  Bingham frowned at him. “Can’t say that I know. Making a mess of finding anything useful.” He motioned to the pile of bones. “Something like that is just going to draw the attention of the Dragon Touched. There’s a reason we go for unique items. Quality over quantity.”

  “You know, Bingham, I was thinking—”

  Ty cut himself off before he said anything too foolish. Bingham wasn’t wrong. Had Ty done the job the right way, following the expedition before things started getting shipped from the city, he might have been able to snag something more interesting.

  As it was, a pile of bones had some value, but only to one of the Dragon Touched. And only if they could move them. The challenge was finding that balance.

  Maybe he needed to head up to see what else the expedition had uncovered. There was something more to it. The dragon’s presence at least suggested there was something more there. If Bingham wasn’t going to be involved, then maybe Ty would have to do it himself.

  “What were you thinking?” Bingham asked.

  “I was thinking I might have to see what else the expedition found.”

  Bingham looked up at him. “If they have a dragon there, it might be best if you stay clear.”

  “Maybe,” Ty said.

  Bingham regarded him for a long moment, then turned his attention back to his shop. Ty thought maybe he’d say something else, maybe he’d offer him some different pie
ce of advice, but he didn’t. So Ty stepped out into the street, holding on to his bundle, and looked up toward Ishantil.

  There was still a trembling within it. It seemed like the volcano was giving him a message, one that both Maggie and Bingham tried to share with him, for different reasons.

  Maybe it was time for him to leave the city altogether.

  He had been staying in Zarinth because of his parents, but they had been gone long enough that he had started to think their return would be increasingly unlikely.

  Albion had moved on, why shouldn’t I?

  The problem for him was that he wasn’t sure how.

  He found himself drawn back toward the small encampment outside of the city—toward the dragon. Ishantil rumbled, and he wondered what other message might be hidden within its sound.

  Chapter Five

  As he approached the wall, he saw that the wagons had moved. Ty stood staring for a moment. There was no sign of them, other than the rutted ground the wheels had made. There were other wagons in the small space, but they were off to the side and empty, as if they were waiting for more findings from the expedition. There was no sign of the dragon either. Only several archaeologists, a single priest—though not Albion, thankfully—and one of the Dragon Touched.

  Ty was cautious as he moved along the wall, careful to avoid drawing any attention to himself, though as he peered up and over it, he saw only a few boxes remaining inside.

  He looked at the bundle he carried. It would only draw attention. Bingham wasn’t going to sell it—at least, not yet.

  Which meant that having this bundle put him in danger, as it was something the Dragon Touched could find easily. Anything that carried dragon remnants within it—the bones, the claw, or the dragon pearls, as rare as they were—could be tracked by one of the Dragon Touched. It was tied to the power they possessed, though it was not something Ty particularly understood.

  He had lingered too long.

  A figure stepped through the small gate and looked toward him.

  He’d been paying attention to what was inside the wall, barely keeping his eyes on anything else, but practice—and instinct—warned him. He looked back and saw the Dragon Touched looking in his direction.

  He clutched the bundle even tighter.

  He had to continue to be careful, or else he might reveal that he had something he wasn’t supposed to have. If the Dragon Touched suddenly decided to come after him, it would mean his capture. He hurried along the wall, not wanting to linger much longer, but he also remained curious.

  The Dragon Touched started after him.

  Ty hurried into the city, finding the crowd more robust than he was accustomed to. He saw people carrying massive bags, and he followed one of them until he saw them approaching a merchant caravan, then realized there were other, similar caravans nearby.

  Maggie had mentioned that some people were already starting to leave, but it surprised him to see them heading out. He looked up to Ishantil, forgetting the Dragon Touched for a moment.

  Ishantil had trembled often enough over the last few weeks that he had stopped paying attention to every rumble, but perhaps it was the threat of an eruption that had scared people. If he didn’t have anywhere to go, maybe he would be scared.

  But he could find Maggie and take her up on her offer—though that meant leaving, and he wasn’t ready. It was as simple as that.

  There was a part of Ty that still believed his parents would eventually return. More than that, he had made his own life here. It was comfortable. At least, as comfortable as it could be. Ishantil’s little trembling didn’t mean much. It would calm down. It always did.

  He glanced back and saw the Dragon Touched taking a different street, where he would get lost, most likely. There were soldiers out in the city, as there often were. It was better here than other places in the kingdom, based on what he’d heard. The ghost king didn’t have the same influence here. They were too isolated. He might try, but there was something about Zarinth that offered Ty a sense of safety he wouldn’t have elsewhere in the kingdom.

  Ty wouldn’t know where to go if he chose to leave.

  Heading to Lothinal was just as bad. He didn’t know anything about it. Again, Maggie’s offer came back to him. At one point, he could swear he saw a figure trailing after him. Not the Dragon Touched, but someone else. A dark cloak, face obscured, and nothing else visible.

  Ty slipped into the crowd, clutching his bundle to him. No one paid him any mind, and it didn’t really seem out of place with the number of people out. He continued his circuit, making his way around the outskirts of the city and heading into the older section, where the ancient structures still survived.

  He caught sight of another Dragon Touched, and Ty turned, thinking he could change directions, when he caught sight of yet another one.

  They were coming close to him. He looked to the bundle of bones he carried. They were following it.

  He cursed to himself. He wasn’t going to be able to get out of here with the bones.

  He was too far away from his home, or any other place he knew within the city, to stash them.

  Ishantil trembled, and he heard a few gasps.

  He searched in either direction, looking at the Dragon Touched, but they ignored the trembling and kept making their way toward him. He dropped the bones into an alley and hurried off, slipping the cloak back around his shoulders. He hadn’t gone very far before he saw the Dragon Touched stopping in the alley and searching around.

  Ty hurried ahead, slipping away, wanting to avoid any additional notice.

  But now he’d lost his prize.

  He turned, and once again he thought he caught sight of a cloaked figure, which forced him to scurry forward even faster.

  There were far fewer people out there than there were near the central part of the city. He meandered around until he got to the main street leading directly through Zarinth, continuing to look behind him, but he saw no further sign of the cloaked figure. Maybe he had only imagined that he had returned, though he didn’t think so. More likely than not, the cloaked figure had identified that Ty had looped around.

  Who was it?

  Not somebody from Zarinth. Very few people from the city would be dressed in a heavy cloak, so unlike the thin one Ty wore in the jungle, keeping their hood up and trapping the humidity inside. Most would prefer to wrap a slip of silk around their mouth if they wanted to mask themselves—either that, or they would tie a bandanna around their head, concealing almost everything except their eyes.

  In the distance, the Temple of the Flame loomed above the city. This close to Ishantil, the Temple was a place of prestige, more than would be found elsewhere within the kingdom. It was a place close to the Flame, similar to the steam swamp in the south or the fire fields to the west—places the priests believed gave a direct connection to the power of the Flame.

  Having seen his brother in the city, he had not intended to go looking for him, but now that the caravan with all of the expedition’s findings had departed, he was curious. Maybe Albion knew something about what the king had found, though it was unlikely Albion would share it with him. His brother was too faithful of a servant to the Priests of the Flame. Still, he was his brother.

  Ty hurried along the street, making his way through the city to the central portion. The crowd thickened the farther he went, and he made his way past some of the easternmost houses and shops, all of them in the kingdom’s style of architecture, constructed of square blocks with slate roofs. It was only when he passed beyond the temple and neared the western edge of the city that everything began to change, becoming a bit more curved. Some of the structures were made of ancient timbers that seemed to have been hollowed out to create the houses, almost as if the houses were carved from the forest itself. Others were dug out of the old lava flows, tubes that formed rows of irregular houses. Those buildings gave Zarinth its uniqueness.

  There was something of a division that had formed, wherein the temple i
tself served as the dividing line: Everything east of it was constructed of stone, and everything west of it was wood and earth, tied to a people so ancient that no one in Zarinth knew who had been responsible for the creation of the buildings.

  As he neared the temple, the soldiers appeared again. He stayed back, afraid of getting too close, and not wanting to draw the attention of the Dragon Touched. He didn’t need to get pulled along by that strange dragon magic, somehow using the power of the dragon claw to draw him in.

  Instead, he watched.

  The soldiers made their way beyond the temple, toward the massive palace situated slightly to the north. The palace housed the Darasheen, the king’s servant in the city. He was the highest-ranking official here, though the Darasheen didn’t serve nearly as high a role of honor in Zarinth as they would in other parts of the kingdom. Instead, the High Priest of the Flame was exalted above all others, creating a strange tension in the city.

  Ty watched for a while before the soldiers disappeared altogether. They continued heading toward the palace, a crowd following behind them. A part of him wanted to follow them, but he didn’t dare get too close.

  When he finally tore his gaze away, he moved closer toward the temple. There was a wide plaza outside the entrance, though plenty of cobbled streets separated the temple from the rest of the city on all sides. It was a solid tower of black stone—all obsidian block, and all harvested from Ishantil. It loomed high into the air, with an enormous flame burning atop it.

  Ty reached the doors but stopped himself, then looped around to the back entrance. He was familiar with the temple in a way that very few who were not of the priesthood would be. That came from his brother’s service and his time in the temple when he’d first joined.

  A small door made of iron and black-lacquered wood interrupted the stone on the western side. The wood reminded him of the rubal trees, the surface smooth and incredibly dense. He pushed open the door. Later in the day, the door would be locked and he wouldn’t have any way of accessing it, but now, he was given free rein to open it and head inside.