Dyter shrugged. “People meet up here on a day-to-day basis. To the outsider, there’s nothing amiss.” His face darkened. “As long as Arnik stops bringing pups in.”
But there was truth in Arnik’s argument, too. “You need the pups, old man. They have young bodies that can fight.”
Dyter gave a grudging nod.
I hated upsetting him. “But they can’t do without the experience and wisdom of you oldies.” I smiled as he puffed his chest out a bit. “So,” I continued, sliding my gaze his way, “are you excited to meet Cal?”
Dyter let out a belly laugh that spread to every faded and worn part of the tavern. “You saw the boy by the door. I thought he was going to wet himself with excitement.”
I joined him in laughter. “I thought he’d faint from the mere mention of Cal’s name.” I wasn’t about to admit I’d shovel horse plop for three hours straight to be able to meet the leader of the rebellion. Now, that would be exciting. More excitement than I’d had since the Tals’ donkey escaped their stable and went on a bender about town, kicking the stalls in the market over—I wanted to let it out again.
When the last glass was put away, Dyter held his hand out for my washrag. “You stayin’ the night?”
I had a room upstairs, something Mum had insisted on when I started working at The Crane’s Nest. Curfew was strict here, and the penalties if caught depended on the soldier’s mood at the time. Over the last year, I’d felt a deep pull to be outside in the darkness, and Dyter’s thatched roof didn’t have a window I could see the night sky from.
Dyter knew I didn’t sleep well here, so he never pushed.
“Mum is expecting me. She might already be pacing the floor.” The last was said in jest as we both knew she wouldn’t be. Ryhl didn’t get anxious. She either did something or she didn’t, but she didn’t waste energy on worrying.
“Al’right then. Best scoot out. Be careful, my girl.”
There was a real strain in his voice on the last four words. I gave him a quick peck on the cheek because I knew he secretly loved it even though he always waved me away. I grabbed a piece of brak to nibble on the way home and waved goodbye, stepping out into the moonlight.
“Oh,” Dyter called.
I swung around to look at him, mouth stuffed with brak.
He came to the door, his lip lifted in his gruesome smile. “You’ll want to be here tomorrow night.”
My heart hammered. What? “Why? Will he be here?” I spoke around the food, spitting some on the ground. If Cal came, I’d probably die of excitement.
Dyter grinned and slammed the door in my face. I listened as he retreated into the depths of the tavern, chuckling at his hilarious wit.
I stared at the solid wooden door. He wouldn’t have said anything if Cal wasn’t coming here, would he? My gut told me no. Holy pancakes! A squeal built inside of me, but I opted instead to punch-dance on the spot.
The rebel leader was coming tomorrow night.
Beaming, I faced toward home and stepped into the caress of the dark shadows.
3
In the old tales, Verald was the jewel kingdom within the Draecon Empire. Known for its fertile fields, the inhabitants of Verald produced the agriculture for the two other kingdoms in Emperor Draedyn’s realm. But Verald’s fertile fields were myths, like the legends of the Phaetyn, who could heal anything living. If there ever was truth to either story, it was long gone now.
Each household in the Penny Wheel, the slums of Verald, was allowed a small piece of dirt, a garden of their own, to do with as they wished. Ours did particularly well. Mum’d sit outside and talk to the plants after I’d pulled weeds or watered the garden or shifted dirt to new spots like I was born for it. Somehow, she coaxed the plants to grow with a wildness that could’ve made the neighbors jealous but instead motivated them to keep the abundant harvest a secret—probably because Mum shared her talent, helping others with their gardens throughout the entire Verald kingdom. Mum’s green thumb was probably why Seven wasn’t as skinny as the rest of the Harvest Zones.
I crept along the alley on my way home from The Crane’s Nest, placing my feet carefully as I hugged the lovely shadows of the buildings in the Inbetween, pausing at intervals to listen for anything concealing itself in the night. The temperature was the energy sucking kind, unseasonably warm for mid-solstice. Something about the night kissed my skin, and I welcomed the black tendrils with open arms. If the dark were a person, I’d latch onto him and never let go. This pull to be in the night was a recent thing. Mum said it was a cheap thrill to make up for the monotonous routine of daily life. But for me, when the twin moons were up, the mystery of the shadows provided this spark I craved. The dark could take me away from this wasteland. The dark made me believe I was more than just a girl stuck in a life with no future but marriage and potato stew.
I crept through the shadows until fire lit the black sky in a sudden blazing inferno. I jumped and pressed my back to the wall, heart in my mouth, flashing danger searing my insides. Mistress Moons. Please tell me that was a series of meteors.
Making sure to keep concealed, I tilted my head to peer upward. The roaring streaks of red-and-orange flame were a brilliant beacon, painting an image of deadly beauty across the velvet of night.
The fire was no meteor shower. It was Lord Irrik.
I inhaled sharply and receded deeper into the shadows.
Lord Irrik, the king’s pet Drae, was right there, in front of my eyes. The outline of his wings and body, and even his serpent-like tail, blotted out the stars. I’d grown up on stories of how the king had bound a powerful Drae to him. The Drae was invincible, and because he was fiercely loyal, his power protected the king.
The Drae circled the skies over the Money Coil and the Inbetween, making no effort to conceal his massive dragon form. He was far too close for comfort. The Drae breathed bolts of fire that extended as long as the main laneway in Zone Seven. My mouth hung ajar as I stared at the streak of lethal heat illuminating the sky.
Several moments passed as I debated my predicament. I couldn’t stay here all night— eventually a patrol would pass by—but moving now could alert the Drae to my presence. Of course, if Lord Irrik could really hear someone breathing from a mile away, I was screwed anyway. I glanced back at the sky, and judging by scorching fire, he’d passed into zone eight. I could make it home if I was careful.
I ran to the next corner on my right and ducked behind an empty refuse bin and then took a deep breath as I plotted my route home. This far out from the Money Coil meant the streets would be empty. No one here could afford to bribe a patrol. I had two choices, and neither was very good. But before I could make my next move, the heavy powerful beating of wings and an inhuman roar came from much closer than before. Like, overhead close.