Page 23 of Dragon Gods

“But information?—”

“Perhaps.”

“I vote we kill him and give the kingdom a taste of its own medicine.”

He bit his tongue until it bled. He swallowed, ignoring the tang in his throat and backed away from the turn before he did something stupid like rush out with a bent wire as his only weapon. They were still talking, but he didn’t need to hear more.

With a tight chest, he retraced his steps back to the tunnel from where he’d come, trying to plan as he moved. There had to be another way out of the base. They wouldn’t have a single escape option in case of attack which meant one of these back tunnels exited out somewhere else. He just needed to find which one—in the dark—without being caught.

He didn’t miss the light suddenly growing ahead, a lantern swinging in the dark, but without any other place to go, he was left standing there as it grew brighter, a deer waiting for the hunter’s arrow.

“What in the depths?” the man let out a soft gasp as he turned the corner. His mouth opened, readying to let out a cry as Fox moved. Fox’s hand found the man’s throat before he could finish his intake of air, fingers wrapping tight to choke the scream off. The man’s hands scrambled at his wrist, nails biting into skin, but Fox only pushed hard, the other man’s head smacking against the wall with a thud. The lantern fell to the ground in a crash that had Fox’s blood running cold and the tunnel was thrown into darkness. He used the moment of confusion to twist the man around and press his entire arm into his throat. He barely put up a fight as his body grew heavy.

The man couldn’t even let out a final breathy curse as he slumped, dead against the ground. Not wanting to wait around and be caught with the body, Fox picked up the man, wincing a little at the weight as he moved the last two turns to the room he’d first escaped from. He pulled at the man’s cloak and belt, fumbling in the dark until he had the belt strapped around his own waist, the weight of a dagger comforting at his side. The cloak was a few inches short, but it was heavy and warm as he hooked it around his neck.

He felt no guilt as he shoved the body into the cell and pushed the door closed again as best he could. Without the key to lock it, it didn’t stay shut, but in the pitch black it was impossible to see the door was just slightly ajar. He didn’t have time for perfection. He needed to find the tunnel that led out of here and get back to the city. The last thing he wanted was to still be here when the rebels out in the main cavern decided to kill him.

If he was fast enough, he might be able to bring back a team of guards to raid the cenote before they disappeared. Either way, he knew some faces and names now. He knew the edges of their plans. And he knew that they were going to regret capturing him.

FOX

AGE 15

It was the fourteenth king who put into place laws against Dragonborn possessing and reading books after it was discovered that written communication was used in the great uprising. While the utilization of crude symbols and numbers are now allowed for bookkeeping, any form of written dragon-tongue is considered treason. All written communications between Dragonborn are immediately deemed suspect and cannot be withheld from inspection.

-The Laws and Rights of Suvi by Hurnica June

Fox couldn’t help the startled jump as the young maid entered the library, footsteps so soft he only heard the squeak of the door on its hinges. He was holding his afternoon tea as he leaned over the book he was reading, warming his fingers against the chill of the cold season coming through the cracks between windowpanes.

He wasn’t supposed to be reading in the library. He especially wasn’t supposed to be reading the small fictional romance book he was leaning over, its pages so crisp it was clear he was one of the first to read it. Why it was even in their family library, he had no idea. Perhaps his mother had bought it before she’d married his father, who’d taught her quickly that reading for fun was a pointless endeavor and a waste of a woman’s brain. Fox wasn’t completely clear on whether he agreed with his father on that account, but he also couldn’t help but enjoywastinghis brain occasionally when the weather was cold and the manor too empty and quiet. His father had been locked in his study with Chief Commander Harlow for the last two hours, so he thought it was as good a time as any to escape.

The squeak of the hinge, short and only loud because of the silence of the library, sent a wave of nausea through him and he jerked, eyes flying to the door. He expected to see the reddening face of his father, not the round face of a girl not much younger than him. Her eyes were wide and brown, skin tawny and cheeks freckled.

His eyes flickered away with disinterest, only to see the splatter of tea, drying along the edge of the book and onto the loose pages on the desk below.

“Shit!” He yelled the curse louder than he meant to as he stumbled back, placing the rest of his tea somewhere safe. Without much thought, he pressed his shirt into the pages, hoping to soak up the moisture. But his attempts were futile and the stain only seemed to grow and darken the longer he looked at it.

He could probably put the book back and his father would never notice the stains on the pages, but the stack of papers that he’d so carefully not touched on the desk had their own splatter of tea, the drops forming a beautiful pattern of his future pain. They were his father’s documents, so there was no hiding the damage.

“Why did you sneak up on me like that?” he said, snapping at the girl. “What do you even want?”

“I’m supposed to clean?—”

“Well, you’ve made a mess now.”

She moved forward with a look of contrition, holding her rag like it might fix the problem better than his shirt. He couldn’t stop the wave of anger that coursed through him and he grabbed her by the front of her dress.

“Are you stupid?”

“I’m s-sorry.” She gave two bows, one after the other, as if they might help and erase the damage already done.

“What’s going on in here?”

The sound of his father’s voice sent an icy chill down his spine.

“Nothing,” Fox said, taking a step away from the maid and trying to wipe his face of emotion.

His father’s cold eyes took in the scene, glancing between him and the girl before moving on to the desk behind Fox. A hand on his shoulder pushed him to the side.

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