Path of the Flame

Book 1: The Dragon Thief

by D.K. Holmberg

Genres: Coming of Age; Sword & Sorcery

Synopsis

It will take a thief to stop a thief.

Zarinth is a dangerous city at the edge of the kingdom, illuminated by the constant fire of the nearby volcano Ishantil. For thief Ty, it's more than a city filled with valuable ancient dragon relics. It's the home he could never leave.

When Ishantil threatens to erupt, and the city descends into chaos, Ty wants one last score before finally leaving the city—and his past behind. All while the notorious Dragon Thief chases the same prize.

The Dragon Thief has a reputation for a reason, but Ty begins to think there's more to the job than he ever expected.

Success means more than freedom. It means he can buy the answers he really wants. And it just might save the city from destruction.

Packed full of action and adventure, Path of the Flame is the beginning of a brand new epic fantasy adventure.

Release date: July 13, 2021

Publisher: ASH Publishing

Print pages: 342

Sample

Chapter 1

 

It was almost as if Ishantil, the volcano deep in the heart of the jungle, had grown angry. Its rumbling sent the trees shaking in the humid air. The jungle’s density made it difficult for Ty to see much of anything, but he used some of that darkness to his advantage, as it camouflaged his presence. It wouldn’t do for the king’s men to know just yet that he was hiding there.

Ty pressed himself up against one of the smooth rubal trees, inhaling the pungent aroma but trying to keep his focus instead on what he could hear through the trees. The path wound only a few paces in front of him, but it would be difficult to see through the trees even a few paces away given his location within the jungle—unless someone was looking for him. In addition to the darkness, his dappled green cloak helped conceal him.

They should have been there by now. He’d followed the king’s men for the better part of the last hour, tracking them from deep in the jungle as they made their way back toward the city of Zarinth on the edge of the jungle. They hadn’t seen him—Ty was far too skilled to be caught by any of the usual soldiers—and the more difficult part of the job would be coming soon.

A flicker of shadows appeared. In the jungle, that could be many things, though he didn’t expect to see any wildlife this close to the path. For the most part, the wildlife within the jungle avoided any place occupied by humankind. Birds would swoop down occasionally, but that was rare. Sometimes the long-tailed velum—creatures with furry bodies, hands and feet like a child’s, and enormous wide eyes that seemed far more knowing than they should be—would swing through the trees overhead, but they generally avoided the path as well. Too many had been hunted over the years as a prize for those deeper within the kingdom who believed their meat a delicacy.

Ty remained in place, and he could hear the soft murmuring before he saw where it came from. Voices.

The king’s men had no reason to conceal their passing. They didn’t fear anyone watching or tracking them, and they certainly didn’t think there would be anyone near enough to steal from them. What fool would dare risk the ghost king’s wrath by stealing? Others carting the expedition’s finds had been left alone, but this one had no guards, making it a reasonable target.

Ty slipped behind the tree as the party approached. There were three of them, probably enough to make them believe that the dragon relics they’d gone after were safe. All he needed was to see what they carried with them. When he did, he could decide whether the risk was worth it. He thought it was. Given the rumors out of the mountain about the kind of relics that had been found, he felt certain he would find something of value.

“I’m ready for a cold bath, and maybe a mug of ale,” one of the men said.

From where he remained perched at the base of the tree, he could make out the man’s features. He had dark hair and carried his wide-brimmed hat in hand rather than wearing it, even though most who ventured into the jungle would have it on their head. Some sort of head covering was necessary to prevent the spiders and other creepy crawlies from climbing down one’s back.

“There’s no good ale in Zarinth. You need to get closer to Holdan before you find anything of quality,” another of the men said. He was short and stocky, but at least he wore his hat. His long sword would probably be useless in the close confines of the jungle.

Not at all like the long-bladed dragon-bone dagger Ty carried. Something like that was far more functional. Fools out of Carn, the capital of the Neranl kingdom, liked to think swords could be used on anything and didn’t pay any mind to the fact that the preferred long blades they carried would get caught in vines or the underbrush, making it difficult to fight if it came down to it. The only thing those swords were good for was clearing the brush, though the Priests of the Flame in Zarinth made sure the path through the jungle to Ishantil remained cleared.

“I don’t even care about good ale,” the first man said. “After what we saw up there…”

His voice trailed off, and Ty found himself trying to squeeze a little bit closer, curious to hear about what they might have seen. He had known there was an expedition moving through the jungle, but hadn’t caught sight of them before now. It was too difficult for him to try to attack the expedition higher in the mountain anyway—it would be too well guarded—which was why he had thought he might be able to catch them on the downslope, figure out what they had found, and relieve them of it.

“We’re not going to talk about what was up there,” the pudgy man said. “Finish the job. Get the damn bones down to the city where the king can get them moved. We don’t have much time anyway. The scholars made that clear.”

“You think we can trust the scholars?” the first man asked.

“Scholars. Priests. I don’t care. They are all saying the same thing.”

Ty tried to scoot forward to see who was talking, but couldn’t hear well enough. What were the scholars and priests saying?

The others surrounded the man who was talking, but there was something soft and weak to his voice. Maybe that was just his imagination. Too many of the king’s men came out here thinking they were strong, but when they got into the jungle and had to deal with some of the creatures and insects, they panicked.

The ground trembled again.

The volcano had been far more active over the last week. Ever since the expedition had come, really. So far, Ty had only seen the activity surrounding the expedition; this was the first time he had managed to get close to some of the men who had actually gone to the dig site without having them surrounded by soldiers. It was his first opportunity to grab something.

He had no idea what to make of Ishantil trembling like that. It had often spewed some ash and smoke, making its presence known, but it had been a while since the volcano had erupted. Sometimes a flow of lava would make its way down the mountainside, celebrated by the Priests of the Flame, but it cooled down long before reaching Zarinth.

“Damn volcano,” the third man said, his voice quiet and tight. “I want to get out of here before it erupts.”

“We’ve got time, if you listen to the priests.”

The priests had said that the volcano will erupt?

If there was one thing Ty believed about the Priests of the Flame, it was that they seemed to know when the volcano would be more active. It was said that the priests had once even anticipated the last great eruption hundreds of years ago.

“I’d rather listen to the scholars than the priests.”

This came from the second man with his hat on his head; the pudgy one. He looked around as he walked, but Ty smiled tightly to himself, as he knew he was concealed in the shadows of the jungle. Even if the man had caught sight of him, he’d probably think it little more than his imagination, not that Ty had been stalking them.

“The damn fools think the Priests of the Flame keep them safe,” the first man said, wiping his arm over his forehead. A large welt had appeared on one temple, and Ty knew how a maccan beetle bite like that would fester. Better not to get bit in the first place, but if he was going to avoid wearing a hat, then the beetles could drop down from above and crawl on him.

He couldn’t hear much more of what they were talking about. If the priests and the scholars both thought Ishantil might erupt, shouldn’t that be something they shared with others in the city?

Unless it wasn’t a serious eruption.

Ty braced himself as the volcano trembled again, but it still sent him staggering, and he stumbled, stepping on a branch that cracked underneath his foot.

He hurriedly grabbed for a tree, wrapping his arms around it, hoping that none of the stupid insects would drop down on him and that there were no velum in the tree, but he was more worried about the men hearing him.

“What was that?” the man without the hat asked.

“I didn’t hear anything.”

“There was a sound.”

Ty should have been more careful. Especially knowing that the volcano was angry. He didn’t believe, as the priests did, that fire decided all things and that the volcano was one more aspect of that, but he had lived near Ishantil his entire life, and he had a healthy respect for the dangers that came from living so close to a volcano.

He watched the men. They started moving away from their small clearing, searching the trees for him.

“It’s probably one of those stupid velum,” the pudgy man said. “We saw them often enough on the expedition. Wouldn’t be too surprised if they’d also come down here.”

There were velum down here, though even Ty preferred to avoid them. They had a tendency to be unpredictable, and violent as well, though they typically left him alone. Then again, he was usually smart enough to avoid them.

“I wouldn’t mind dragging one of those back to the capital too. I bet something like that would fetch a pretty penny. Especially after the volcano erupts and burns them all up.”

“Would you be quiet?” Ty couldn’t see who spoke the time, but he had a harsh tone, one that sounded like he was used to command. “There’s something here.”

He had to be careful. He could hide in the jungle. He was certain of that. And he knew he could disappear if it came down to running, but that wasn’t what he wanted to do. His whole purpose for being here was to grab a few dragon remnants—bony remains of long-dead dragons. Maybe even more than a few, given the rumors coming out of the expedition. But if there were relics—the obsidian sculptures made by the ancients—they would be far more valuable.

Most of the items coming down from the peak had been guarded by the Dragon Touched. Ty had watched this group of soldiers head into the well-worn path, noted the absence of Dragon Touched, and figured it was his chance. But only if he could steal from them here. Once they reached the city, it would be too late.

Slipping along the trees, he looked up, worried that maybe the sound that had alerted them had come from a velum or tapin, not him. Even though they could be found there, it would surprise him if they made their presence known so close to the edge of the city. Most of the time, they knew to avoid the passing of the king’s men—most of the time.

He weaved a little farther ahead, moving out and around one of the trees, until he found himself fighting his way toward a small ravine. He swung on a long vine hanging down, using it to help him slip across to the other side. He hesitated upon landing there, as the action had made more noise than he had intended, and he had to ensure the king’s men didn’t hear his passing.

But he heard no other sound surrounding him, just his own breathing and the steady pounding of his heart.

He wasn’t too far off the path—still near enough that he would need to be careful to not draw them away toward him.

Slipping around another tree, he paused and looked through the dense underbrush, where the three men had positioned themselves around the footworn path. It wasn’t traveled nearly as often as the priests’ Path of the Flame, but there were more than a few hunters, traders, and even smugglers who ventured up alternative routes through the mountain and kept it cleared.

They had their backs to each other. One of them had his sword unsheathed and was moving slowly toward the trees.

Maybe they hadn’t heard him.

Could a velum be nearby?

Ty would’ve expected to have seen or heard it. Unless they had thought the sound he made was one of the velum. That might be better for him, after all.

Better still, one of the men had dropped his pack.

Now all he had to do was take advantage of the situation.

This wasn’t normally the way he would slip in and steal from the king, though there was a certain amusement that came with the idea of getting in while the men were distracted. Typically, he had to find the right moment, whether through deception or darkness, then steal. He hadn’t expected to have an opportunity to take the dragon relics, but if the Flame wanted to provide it for him, then who was he to ignore it?

Ty grabbed a length of fallen wood and crept closer to the path. The men were still distracted by whatever was taking place overhead, something he couldn’t quite see, and as he approached the path, he hurled the log and waited. It made just enough noise, as much as he had expected it to, and they turned toward it.

One of the men hollered and motioned with his sword. The other two started forward. It gave Ty a little space, not as much as he had hoped, but he thought he might be able to sneak in behind this man and grab whatever they had at their campsite.

He crept forward, staying low. The other men had gone into the jungle, disappearing, leaving only the one with the sword guarding the path and their belongings. As long as the man kept his back to him, Ty should be able to sneak in.

He found a small stone and tossed it into the trees.

The man with the sword headed toward the sound, buying Ty a little more time.

Not much, he suspected. He figured they would search the forest around them for a little while, come to the conclusion that they couldn’t see anything, and probably return to the path. If they weren’t familiar with navigating through the jungle, they might not venture too far anyway.

They had dropped the rest of their belongings. There was a pack, a bow with a quiver, which he thought foolish to leave behind, and a small handcart that they had somehow managed to drag up then down the mountain, several boxes stacked atop it.

He hurried over toward the boxes, reaching for one of them, when he heard voices coming back toward him.

He cursed under his breath.

Ty dropped down to the ground, grabbing for the pack, but it snagged on something.

He cursed again.

“There’s something out there,” one of the men said. “And we need to—”

“Quiet,” the harsh voice said.

This was the man with the sword.

They were getting closer, and here he was, still out in the open.

He grabbed for the pack again, trying to pull on it, but it wouldn’t come free.

What had it gotten snagged on?

He couldn’t spend the time looking.

He jerked again, and the pack ripped with a loud tear.

A glint of silvery stone dropped, and Ty grabbed it—a dragon claw, he realized—before darting back toward the trees. Another twig snapped beneath his feet, but by then he had reached the dense part of the jungle and backed closer to one of the other rubal trees.

“I heard something,” one of the men said.

“Look at the pack,” the harsh voice said.

They had discovered what he had done.

“Someone was here,” he said.

“We can’t know that it wasn’t those velum.”

“You think the velum come for dragon relics?”

Ty shrank deeper into the forest, wanting to retreat altogether but feeling as if he couldn’t get far enough away.

“There’s nothing here,” the soft voice said. It was the pudgier man. “Not that we can find without getting too deep into the forest. Unless you want to do that.”

“Get the cart moving.”

He heard a few grumbled comments, then the steady sound of the cart moving down the trail, a soft, rhythmic thumping. One of the men grunted at one point, and Ty tried sneaking along, thinking he might find a way through the jungle to catch up to them, but he’d already revealed his hand.

So much for being the skilled thief he thought he was.

He waited for a moment, then froze as he started forward.

The man holding the sword stood framed in the jungle.

Thankfully, Ty was dressed for the jungle. His dark green clothing should blend in, but he didn’t know if the man could still see him.

“Are you coming?” one of the other men shouted.

“There’s something here. Maybe it’s even him.”

There was a moment of silence, but then somebody laughed.

“He’s not coming out here. There’s no way the Dragon Thief would risk the king finding him here.”

The Dragon Thief?

Ty smiled to himself. They might be situated at the edge of the kingdom, but the stories about the Dragon Thief had reached them even here. They were impressive stories. Tales of a man or woman willing to go against the ghost king, sneaking into places housing his prized possessions, and taking valuable items underneath his nose, which were often protected by his most revered soldiers—either Dragon Touched, those who could use the magic stored within the dragon relics, or even the Tecal.

“He’d come,” the man with the sword said. “Especially considering what we’ve found. It’s exactly what he would be after.”

“Which is why the king has sent so many Dragon Touched and a Tecal to guard over it,” somebody said. The voice was softer, growing more muted in the trees.

Ty froze.

Dragon Touched were common enough. They served the king, supplementing his soldiers and defending the borders. It was the Tecal that was unusual. The secret keepers. Spies. They were rumored to have some abilities, but no one knew what let them slip through the kingdom without being seen.

Ty shook himself and followed the men down the mountainside. He was trying to stay as quiet as he could, using the jungle to shield him, which he should have done anyway, all while keeping the path in sight. It was easy enough for him to do. He knew where it was, at least near enough, but even if he didn’t, they were close enough to Zarinth that he could navigate through the jungle back down the mountain. It was getting to the summit without having a path to follow that would be difficult from here.

“You could help,” one of the men said.

“I helped enough,” the harsh-voiced man said. “We just need to get it down with the rest, then…”

Ty couldn’t hear what else they said.

Ishantil trembled again, though it was faint, not with the same intensity as he had felt before.

The air felt hotter now, though that was probably only his imagination. A strange cry echoed from deeper in the trees and he decided it was no longer time to linger. He needed to get back to Zarinth, and he needed to do so before the men did. There might be another way to get what he wanted out of this job.

As he made his way through the jungle, keeping the trail just off to his left, his thoughts were troubled. Some of it had to do with the steady trembling he had felt. Ishantil could be angry at times. Still, he would’ve expected that the priests would have warned the people in the city if there was something to be concerned about. There was no love lost between the priests and the king, mostly because they both prized the dragon relics found in this part of the world, though for very different reasons. The king wanted the relics to power his Dragon Touched, while the priests used them to celebrate the Flame.

Ty didn’t care about any of that. The only thing he cared about was how much he could sell it for.

He hadn’t managed to get the score he wanted. Ty hated failing, especially when it should have been an easy job. This could have been his opportunity to grab something he could trade with Maggie before she led her wagons back into the main part of the kingdom, but also something he could sell to Bingham for a profit.

Now all he had was the claw.

But there were additional items found on the expedition. He didn’t have to be empty-handed. He just needed to somehow find a way to get to them, if he was daring enough.

The ground trembled again. He paused, looking up through the jungle, but he couldn’t see the peak of Ishantil from here. He could imagine it though. And he wondered if the volcano was angry with his plan or if it approved.

The volcano trembled yet again, and he hurried down the mountainside, racing toward the king’s men, an idea starting to form in his mind.

 

 

Chapter 2

 

He reached the edge of the jungle, where the city of Zarinth was set within a clearing at the end of a narrow valley that led into the greater part of the kingdom. It was a place that had existed for centuries, according to the historians within the city, though it had been rebuilt over time. Now the architecture was more reflective of the kingdom: tall buildings made out of the volcanic rock found in this part of the world, some with stained glass windows and peaked roofs, and many of them bearing the king’s black dragon standard on a flag.

Those were the least interesting parts of the city though. It was the older structures, those that had been destroyed during Ishantil’s previous eruption, that Ty always found intriguing. They seemed as if they had been built out of lava flows, curved structures that arced up before dipping back down. Openings cut into them, as if they worked with the existing landscape, rather than trying to add to it. In some places, the jungle tried to reclaim those buildings—vines snaked across the roofs and flowers protruded upward, giving the impression of wildness. Most of those buildings were actually on the Ishantil side of the city.

Beyond Zarinth, the jungle closed up again, swallowing everything as the road led through a narrow valley. Ty and the men were practically barricaded into a difficult-to-reach location, one that the king had long ago claimed, likely because of the value of the dragon relics frequently found around Ishantil, and also because of the potential for an attack from the Lothinal to the north. Ishantil, and her sister peaks, protected them, though there was the occasional skirmish. It was why the king often had squadrons of soldiers, including Dragon Touched, stationed in the city.

Ty remained at the edge of the jungle, watching the three men step away from the path and head out into the city.

They bypassed the older section of the city. Ty knew they would. There was nothing for them there. The king preferred to keep his men situated on the opposite side of the city, though it wasn’t just because of Ishantil. It was also because his people tended to prefer the more modern architecture.

Ty waited until he was sure they had moved clear and weren’t looking back, then hurried out of the jungle and onto a narrow street. There were houses in this part of the city, though most of the people who lived here were poor. Some of them actually ventured through the paths in the jungle, either traders who dared to try reaching the Lothinal lands, or the occasional smuggler who would try to move beyond even there.

Normally, Ty would take his time moving through here, but he was curious about where the king had his encampment. He hadn’t visited before, and wasn’t sure about the security. That was a mistake, he realized—one it was time for him to rectify.

He reached the main road just as the men did. Two of them had taken a position on either side of the pushcart; they weren’t holding it, but they had their swords unsheathed, which was probably unnecessary. They bore the king’s sigil on their jackets, which helped them far more in the city than it ever did in the jungle, keeping people from pushing too close to them.

He trailed behind them. He wasn’t surprised when they crossed Servil’s Stream and made their way slowly to the east. In this part of the city, the buildings were squat, rectangular, stone structures, with no decoration—and no life either. There was no threat of an overgrown jungle trying to overwhelm them, which he suspected the king preferred. Most of these buildings were new, having been built within the last century as the king expanded his presence here, and included shops that catered to the king and his people. Many of them were far more expensive than anywhere else, but people who came here didn’t necessarily care.

“You need to sneak a little more carefully,” a nearby voice said.

Ty practically jumped out of his boots, spinning to see his friend Eastley standing in the mouth of an alley. He was a few inches taller than Ty and muscular, with the traditional good looks that most women preferred—not like Ty, with his more delicate features.

“Damn you, Eastley,” he muttered.

He hurried forward, and Eastley stepped onto the street and joined him.

“You don’t even want to take a moment to talk to your friend?”

Ty nodded to the three men who had nearly been swallowed by the crowd growing around them. “Can’t. Watching something.”

“A job?” Eastley’s demeanor changed. He was a thief like Ty, though Ty liked to think that Eastley wasn’t nearly as skilled as him. He’d known Eastley for as long as he had been pulling jobs, and though they often competed for the same work, they had become friendly, then became actual friends—at least, as much as thieves in this part of the world could ever become friends. “What kind of a job?”

“One that I made a mess of,” he said. He pulled out the dragon claw that he had managed to snag in the mountains, and flashed it to Eastley briefly before stuffing it back into his pocket. “I was trying to follow the expedition, but I didn’t do a great job with it.”

Eastley started to chuckle. “You tried to get them in the jungle? By the Flame, Ty, I wouldn’t even dare go up there. You know what’s up there, don’t you? Dragon Touched. I’ve seen them. And I wouldn’t go up there.”

Ty resisted the urge to say anything to him. He knew what was up there. More than most.

“Well?” Eastley asked.

“It’s everything we’ve heard,” Ty said.

They had reached an intersection, and the men kept moving east, veering along the street. The crowd started to thin, so Ty was careful not to move too quickly. He didn’t want to look like he was following them, even though he was.

“What did they find? Relics or remnants?”

“Both, I think. But I don’t know. They have them boxed up,” Ty replied.

“I heard one soldier talking about dragon pearls.”

He looked over to Eastley. Dragon pearls were a storehouse of power, and the Dragon Touched paid dearly for them. “If there are dragon pearls, then we definitely need to find out,” Ty said.

“It’s not safe. I heard there are three of the king’s chief Dragon Touched in the city,” Eastley stated.

“And maybe a Tecal,” Ty added.

Eastley whistled softly, and a woman with a scarf wrapped around her head looked toward them. Ty could only see her eyes, but she glowered at them. Eastley flashed a broad smile, then continued onward as if unconcerned.

“If we have one of the Tecal here, then whatever those men found on the expedition is incredibly valuable,” Eastley said.

“Or it’s just the size of the find.”

“Could be that,” Eastley agreed. “What are you thinking?”

Ty shrugged. “I’m thinking I’ll follow these three men to see where they’re bringing the items, then make a decision.”

“Oh. I could’ve told you that. They have an encampment just outside of the city. It’s not going to be easy to get in there though. I noticed a pair of Dragon Touched guarding the entrance to it, and they’ve fenced it off.”

He looked over to Eastley. “They fenced it off?”

He’d been more focused on watching the comings and goings of the climbers with the expeditions, thinking he could time his movement so he didn’t have to deal with a Dragon Touched, that he hadn’t watched where they were bringing the items back. He had assumed they were going to the palace.

“Well, not terribly well. They’ve only placed a stone wall around it, but anyone who tries to sneak in there will be plenty noticeable.”

“Anybody but me,” Ty said, flashing a grin to Eastley.

“Is that right? Care to make it interesting?”

“What do you have in mind?” Ty asked.

“I will wager you that claw,” Eastley said, nodding to Ty’s pocket, “that I can get in before you.”

“It’s not just about getting in,” Ty said. “It’s about figuring out what they have.”

“Fine. Get in, see what they have, then grab something worth more than that dragon claw.”

“You want me to wager the dragon claw, but what about you?” Ty asked.

“I still have that relic I snagged on my last job.”

Ty glanced over, rubbing his hands together. The obsidian sculpture was small, barely only a hand in size, but a sculpture like that would actually fetch a fairly significant prize. He could either sell it to Bingham, which was probably the smart move, or he could trade it for information—which is probably what he would end up doing.

Assuming, of course, that Eastley had not grabbed a fake. He didn’t have the most discerning eye when it came to those things. Not the way Ty did.

“You know, I’m not even sure that’s not a forgery.”

“You can ask Bingham,” Eastley said.

“You had him appraise it?”

Eastley shrugged. “Figured it was worthwhile. Not that I was going to sell it to him. But…”

“Bingham is one of the few people in the city who can move something like that,” Ty said.

“Maybe I don’t want to move it. Maybe I just wanted it for decoration.”

“Or maybe you were thinking to use it for some other reason,” Ty said.

He didn’t tell him how stupid it was to hold on to something like that with so many Dragon Touched in the city, but hopefully Eastley already knew. Ty would move it quickly.

Eastley glanced over, then shrugged. “Plenty of reasons to have it. If things get tight, a sculpture like this might be my ticket out of the city.”

“Or you just go through the jungle,” he said.

“Or that,” Eastley said. “If I want to be attacked by velum—or worse. Which I don’t.”

Ty shook his head. “It’s not that bad.”

“Are you going to take the wager or not? I understand if you’re scared or not convinced you have the necessary skill. I might even have to let Bingham know that he needs to come to me first with jobs, rather than to you—which he should probably be doing anyway.”

Ty glanced over, arching a brow. “Somebody has gotten confident.”

“What can I say? The cream rises to the top.”

Ty snorted. They had reached the edge of the city, and he could see the encampment that Eastley had described. It really was much like what he had said. It wasn’t terribly large, maybe a hundred feet by a hundred feet, with a waist-high stone wall made out of lava rock surrounding it, but anybody coming over that wall would probably draw attention. That was assuming there weren’t any sort of protections placed on the wall by the Dragon Touched, something that Ty couldn’t be certain of.

He had been wrong, though, about the Dragon Touched. There were four of them, not two.

The three men pushed the cart up to the entrance to the yard, where two of the Dragon Touched stopped them and questioned them briefly before waving them through.

“I guess we can come at night,” Ty muttered. But while it would be easier for them to sneak in the darkness, it might be harder for them to find anything, and depending on what they used to illuminate the space, they might not even be able to get through anyway.

“Ah, why wait? First one through,” Eastley said.

“I said it was about more than just getting through,” Ty replied.

“Fine. First one to make a score. Good luck.”

With that, Eastley darted off.

Ty frowned. He had no idea how they were going to make a score, but when it came to Eastley, he had found that it probably wouldn’t even matter. Eastley would find a way to figure it out. Eastley headed over toward the Dragon Touched, making a show as if he were going to try to talk to them in order to get inside the gate, but then backed away.

Ty headed to the wall instead. He followed it, making it seem as if he was only walking, though he knew it would draw some attention to him. He instead took the opportunity to peer over the wall.

He caught sight of the activity, which was fairly disorganized and included several different gatherings of men and women, with tables and wagons situated around.

They were loading items into the wagons to return to the capital. That was why they had them out here rather than in the palace. They were sorting and organizing them to load for transport. He wouldn’t have much time.

Ishantil trembled again.

Ty glanced behind him. From his vantage here, the volcano seemed to loom over the city, a hint of haze around its peak, the smoke rising from the summit and creating clouds. He couldn’t see any of the glowing that he knew would be there at night—the lava burning brightly, that which the priests celebrated as the Flame.

An eruption.

That thought kept coming back to him, but could it really happen? The men he’d followed might have believed the priests and scholars who agreed that Ishantil was unstable, but the volcano wasn’t going to burst into flame, spewing lava down the mountainside. At worst, they would have ash and smoke, which could be terrible, but Zarinth had dealt with that many times over the years. Maybe that was what the priests and scholars agreed on.

Ty caught sight of the maroon robes of the priests.

He nearly stumbled to a stop.

The king allowed priests inside his encampment?

That was unusual. The priests and the king had such an uneasy relationship that he was surprised to see them here. As he continued making his way along the low wall, he saw archaeologists from the university working alongside the priests—another unusual combination.

The archaeologists had a distinct appearance. Most of them preferred a dark brown jacket and pants, and they all had leather belts with the equipment they used to dig for relics hanging from them—picks, short shovels, and pouches that were filled with brushes and smaller items. They preferred to dig for relics without destroying them, which was slow, tedious work—something Ty couldn’t imagine having the patience for.

But it gave him an idea.

He hurried to the far side of the encampment, glancing along the wall, and saw no one patrolling. He pulled his cloak off, revealing his dark brown jacket and pants beneath. He had been dressed as one of the archaeologists for this job just in case he needed to sneak into the encampment up the slope of Ishantil, but he hadn’t gone that far.

He fished into his pocket, pulling out a pair of plain glass spectacles and slipping them on to add to the look. He had a leather belt and satchel too, though he wasn’t entirely sure that it would convince anybody who was an actual archaeologist from the university.

As long as it worked long enough to get him into the encampment, though, Ty didn’t care. He circled back around, reaching the entrance. It left him uncomfortable to go through the gate in such an open, exposed manner, but the worst that could happen would be that he’d be turned away. A single priest exited as he approached, and he suspected that the priests didn’t all enter in a group.

Ty flashed a smile. His slight build made him look scholarly, which was one of its benefits. He could pass for an archaeologist.

“Name?” one of the Dragon Touched asked.

“Jensen Ogleton,” he said, trying to pitch his accent in such a way so that it sounded like it came from Carn. He chose the name of an actual archaeologist he had met, though that man was a proper thief, much like Ty, and he’d been more than willing to make bargains with Ty. “I was asked to look at the acquisition that recently arrived.”

The Dragon Touched regarded him. He was dark haired, with deeply tanned skin and wrinkles around the corners of his eyes that made him seem old. Ty had to hope that he wasn’t as experienced as he appeared.

“What are you carrying with you?”

Ty swallowed quickly, then hurriedly pulled out the dragon claw. Maybe it could be of some use. “An item I’ve been examining,” he said. “You can see the striations and the texture. It is quite marvelous,” he said. “With how the colorations interact, you can start to gauge the age of the find, and—”

“The striations don’t matter so much as what it’s holding,” the Dragon Touched muttered. He glanced over to the other man, who shrugged, then they waved him in.

Ty smiled to himself. He had heard archaeologist talking a few times, and knew the way they would go on and on about aspects of dragon relics that he couldn’t care less about. But it seemed to him that the Dragon Touched also didn’t care much for that, which worked to his advantage. It was better for them to think he only had the dragon claw, not the dragon-bone dagger he carried on him. He didn’t know if they could detect that the way they could other dragon relics, as it had been in his family for a long time, but he wasn’t willing to take the risk.

Now that he was inside, he had to be more careful.

He hurriedly looked around, checking to see if Eastley had managed to get here, but Ty didn’t see him. He would probably find his own way in fairly quickly though.

Then again, he wouldn’t put it past Eastley to jump the wall just to get inside to beat him. He would be more than happy to risk exposure like that if he thought it meant he could stay ahead of Ty.

Ty felt far more exposed than he had before, now that he was inside the walled-in area. He saw that the wagons in the center of the space were steadily laden with dragon relics, and he realized that the archaeologists would carry items over only after they had some discussion with a priest.

Was there some agreement in place to negotiate?

The mountain trembled again, carrying with it the power of Ishantil, and he resisted the urge to look back at it. He found a table carrying a box that looked similar to what he’d seen on the handcart and hurried over to it. Ty didn’t see anybody near it, nor anybody near him. He tested the lid, found that it swung open easily, and glanced inside.

There was a small dragon bone, which he grabbed and held for a moment, and a separate canvas sack inside. He pulled that open and began to sort through it. Dragon teeth.

Those could be valuable.

Ty heard voices and hurriedly stuffed the dragon teeth into his pocket, along with the bone, and closed the box. He feigned making his way toward the wagons, when two priests caught his attention—or, rather, one of them did.

Albion.

Ty hadn’t seen his brother in well over a year. The last time had been when Albion had come through here while working for the head priest. He hadn’t been a part of Ty’s life for so long that it was strange to see him now.

He looked much like Ty remembered: the same black hair, deep brown eyes, and solid, muscular build their father had. Ty had always taken after their mother, down to his sandy blond hair, blue eyes, and slight build. There was a part of Ty that wished he looked more like Albion but looking the way he did certainly made it easier for Ty to sneak into places he wasn’t supposed to go.

Albion started to turn toward him, but Ty hurried forward, turning away. He didn’t want his brother to see him. Knowing Albion, and his belief in the power of the Flame, he’d probably even turn Ty in.

He found another table unguarded and flipped open the box, looking inside. There were more bones—several of them, all of various lengths, and some with dirt and rock still clinging to them. He grabbed two of them and slipped them into his jacket, when he heard the sound of voices behind him.

No dragon pearls though. That would’ve been too easy.

If there had been a cache of dragon pearls, it would explain the reason for the security here, along with why a Tecal would’ve come to the city. Maybe it was simply that there had been a massive collection found, and the king was trying to protect it from anyone else who might come across it, including Lothinal. The neighboring kingdom often sent their own thieves into this kingdom to try to steal dragon relics, despite rumors that they didn’t have anybody capable of using them.

“Put that on the wagon,” one of the soldiers said.

Ty nodded, grabbing the box and starting toward the wagons.

As he approached, Ty felt a sense of heat. Zarinth was warm most of the time, occasionally incredibly humid, but this was different—a dry sort of heat. Was there a Dragon Touched using magic near him? He had never spent much time around any of the Dragon Touched, and didn’t really know what their power felt like, so he wouldn’t know even if there was.

He took another step and heard the sound of chains rattling. It came from inside the circle of wagons. He approached more carefully now. Then he caught sight of something.

It was small—little larger than a wolf—and strange, with black, leathery scales, long and sinuous, and what appeared to be stunted wings. But he knew exactly what it was that he saw.

A dragon.

Ty had seen them paraded through the city before. Typically, they were in cages, the king’s way of revealing his power and authority.

Seeing one up close was different. Terrifying.

Even though it was small, an enormous surge of heat came off of it.

He heard somebody say something behind him, then there was a stirring. He started forward, his steps quick, and reached the wagons. All of this could be his. An incredible find. An incredible prize.

Shouts called out.

He hazarded a look behind him. Albion was only about two dozen paces away, but his attention, like everybody else’s, was pulled toward the south.

He glanced over and saw Eastley scrambling toward the wall.

That fool.

Then again, Ty was here in the middle of an encampment with the king’s archaeologists, some Dragon Touched, and even Priests of the Flame.

Worse, he had come close to one of the king’s dragons.

He was the real fool.

Ty wasn’t going to stay here though. He wasn’t stupid enough for that.

Now was his opportunity to either grab something—or get out.

He held on to the box he was carrying and grabbed another one, tucking it under his arm, then hurried toward the wall.

There came a shout behind him, and he quickly tossed the box up and over the wall, jumped it, then hurried for his cloak and threw it over his shoulders before racing toward the city.

He didn’t look back.

He had gotten a prize, though he didn’t yet know what was inside.

Hopefully Eastley had gotten away. Regardless, Ty had earned himself the sculpture. Footsteps chased after Ty, and he raced away, hoping to slip into the city before soldiers or Dragon Touched caught him.

Ishantil trembled again, and again, Ty wondered whether it was angry with him, or if it was pleased.