B4 Ch5: Flight Around The City (Patreon)
Content
Note: This should have come out yesterday, but then I got a better idea for the second half of the chapter. It be like that sometimes.
Once Arthur and Brixaby had finished with the card and returned it to Dannill, tension noticeably loosened among the guards.
Dannill turned to Arthur, all smiles on his sly face as he asked in Texan, “If you don’t mind me asking, where do you and your fine fellow here,” he glanced at Brixaby, “intend to room for the night?”
To Arthur’s chagrin, he he’d forgotten to set something up. Ever since he left his apartment which he’d shared with Horatio, a roof over his head had always been provided to hi, in one way or another. Now, he had nowhere to rent, much less a place that would fit a dragon.
“I guess we’ll stay the night out in the forest,” he said slowly, practicing with the new language that still felt very odd on his tongue.
“Without a bed?” Brixaby swelled up indignantly. “You know I require at least three pillows at night.”
“The forest? That would be suicide. There are scourgelings out there!” Dannill sounded horrified.
“I’m not afraid of any scourgeling,” Brixaby said. “They should be afraid of me.”
“Now that might be the case, but I take it you still won’t want to sleep out in the dirt,” he replied, which earned a grumble from Brixaby. The man smiled wider at this. “How about you and I talk about negotiating a sponsorship deal?”
Arthur’s Hagglingskill tingled. “What’s that?”
“Oh, it’s a simple thing, really. I can tell the two of you are going to be big stars for the upcoming reshuffling. People will want to know about you. There will be jealousy and intrigue and a cartload of curiosity.”
This was starting to sound like a sales pitch. “So what do you want from us?” Arthur asked, bluntly.
“I want to sell your likenesses in toys and drawings. You know, keepsakes for people to say they’ve seen you. How is your signature, by the by? People like signatures from famous folk.”
Why? Arthur almost asked. But Brixaby beat him to it with another question.
“Why do you call it the reshuffling?”
Still smiling, Dannill crossed his arms and leaned against the wall that ringed the rooftop. “Because after all is said and done, the whole shebang reshuffles wealth throughout the city. People with humble Common cards can come out with Rares. Rumor has it, even a Legendary is up for grabs.” Dannill leaned in then as if to impart a secret. “As I told your rider, magic is bent down there in the heart — some rules are even broken. It’s said that people’s heart deck can gain strange new powers.”
Arthur and Brixaby glanced at each other.
But Dannill wasn’t done. “It seems every time there’s a new reshuffling, something new is discovered. A new power comes out the other side. So, you can see why people are excited. They want to know who are going to be the new movers and shakers in the city, and a dragon rider is a good one to bet on.”
“We aren’t going to be staying long term,” Arthur said, wanting to be crystal clear.
“That hardly matters, does it? You’re still exciting. All I’m saying is, for exchange for room and board up here—" Dannill gestured with open arms to mean the roof of the tower, “You let me sell your likeness around the city.”
“Room, board, and food for myself and for Brixaby,” Arthur said.
“Of course, of course,” Dannill replied quickly.
“And crafting supplies,” Brixaby added. “Me and my rider will need to prepare for the reshuffling. Not only will we take it seriously — we intend to win.”
“I’m not certain it’s something anyone can win, per se,” Dannill said, “But I appreciate the enthusiasm.”
Brixaby wasn’t done. “We will also require basic construction supplies to build higher walls against the wind, and two beds to be brought up. Also, what do your people know of chain mail?”
Arthur stepped back to let his dragon manage the man, throwing in a few suggestions when Brixaby’s demands became too… dragonish.
As they went back and forth, Dannill’s smile became less bright as he slowly realized Arthur and Brixaby weren’t going to sign away their advantage for no reason.
“You’re asking for supplies enough for months,” Dannill said a bit sourly.
Arthur shrugged. “When is the reshuffling supposed to start?”
“Can’t say,” Dannill admitted. “But I’ve heard it’s a few weeks out. We have experts study that sort of thing and judge when the heart is ready to burst — you can’t overplay these things and wait too long because if it does ever burst…” He shuddered.
“You end up with a scourge-eruption?” Arthur guessed.
Dannill pointed his fingers at him with a clicking noise. “You got it. And no one wants that.”
Privately, Arthur thought that the city was already close to playing with fire — or playing with scourgelings, which was even worse. But this wasn’t his kingdom. Besides, he didn’t want the start of the reshuffling to happen right now. Cressida and Horatio were two weeks away at very best.
If this event was as good as Dannill said, they could stand to benefit.
Plus, he had been in this city for a day and had already learned something new about scourgelings no one else back at home did: Dark hearts preempted a scourgeling eruption.
If we can find a way to look for those, we could get people out of the way before an eruption occurs. We might be able to stop it all together.
Brixaby returned to haggling, and Arthur pulled his thoughts away from that prospect to continue.
Finally, they came to an agreement where Arthur and Brixaby were able to us the rooftop terrace as a pseudo-apartment, with a few more additions for comfort.
Dannill had his men go down to his shop and return with canvas and wooden poles they could use to construct a roof against the wind. It was the dry season, which meant no storms predicted… though a reshuffling tended to affect the local weather, so that wasn’t guaranteed.
With promises that the crafting supplies would be delivered in the morning, Dannill and his guards took their leave through a trap door that opened on the corner of the roof.
As soon as it shut behind the last man, Arthur slipped a piece of thin wood under the catch, effectively bolting it into place.
Brixaby eyed him. “Why bother? If anyone sneaks up on us during the night, I will just throw them off the roof.”
“I’ll sleep better if the door’s locked,” Arthur replied, “But if someone does make it up here around the trap door, go ahead and give them a good flying lesson.”
Then he set about setting up the wood and canvas into a serviceable roof for the two of them. Dannill had provided nails and a hammer, and there were already grooves on all four corners of the terrace to fit in the ends of the wooden poles.
To his mild amusement both Arthur and Brixaby received starting levels in construction.
“You know,” Arthur said as he tied off the ends of the canvas to the final pole, “you could make a good life for yourself by ferrying supplies like this back and forth through the city. You’d just put the stuff in your Personal Space, fly to wherever they want it delivered, take it back out again, and get paid.”
Brixaby jerked his head back in an exaggerated eyeroll. “I am a dragon, not a ferry service.”
Arthur grinned. “Plenty of purples are couriers.”
“I am a Leg—"
Arthur stopped him with a look, and for once Brixaby modulated his voice. “I am a Rare,” he grumbled in case anyone was listening. This city-state may not look to any hives, but word might spread faster if it became openly known that he and Brixaby had Legendary cards.
Louder, Brixaby added, “I do hope Joy and Sams arrive on time.”
“Me too,” Arthur admitted and glanced at the single cot bed brought up for him. Brixaby had been given a wider pallet to sleep on, and he’d already claimed the thickest quilt to stretch across it. “But we’ll have to figure out a different place once they’re here. Sams won’t be able to land on top of this roof without bringing the whole thing down.”
In the back of his mind, he wondered if Cressida would mind sharing a bed with him. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d shared sleeping quarters… though in Mesa Free hive, nothing had happened. The dragons had been much too young, they were all squished together, and… Arthur had chickened out.
He regretted it even though he wasn’t sure he could have done anything differently with Joy being injured and both dragons poking their nose into their rider’s business like young children, whenever they were awake.
“Arthur, do you think dragons can go down to the dark heart?” Brixaby asked suddenly. He seemed unusually anxious.
“I don’t see why not for you and Joy, though… I suspect Sams might have a problem with narrow tunnels.”
Brixaby visibly relaxed. “Then we shall need to buy him a body modification card. I want all my retinue to accompany me.”
This, Arthur knew, was Brixaby’s way of showing that he cared. “It’s smart to have everyone grow in power at the same time,” he said with a nod, “There’s no point in gaining power if you leave everyone else behind.”
Something twinged in his heart, and he thought of Guard Domingo asking him what it was he needed down in the dark heart.
But when Arthur tried to chase that thought down, he found he couldn’t follow its path. Perhaps it had been nothing.
****
Arthur woke early the next morning just as the first rays of the rising sun hit him in the face.
I need to put up walls on the east side, he thought grumpily, sitting up. At least the view was spectacular — an unfamiliar city and a forest that lay beyond the far walls.
Glancing at Brixaby, Arthur noticed that the dragon, who had made a big show last night of making up his pallet bed on the other side of the terrace, had shifted it during the night so it lay right beside Arthur’s bed. Wisely, Arthur decided not to mention it.
Instead, he looked at his waking dragon and said, “Let’s go out and fly.”
Brixaby went from groggy and barely awake to perked up in a moment. “Yes, since we are to be sponsored by Dannill, we should make ourselves known to the city. Only,” he looked at Arthur. “I thought you wanted for me to be a secret.” He said this last part with mild distaste.
“Not much chance of that,” Arthur said, “Dannill’s guards will probably talk, if they haven’t already. Besides, if we’re going to have our likeness spread around and… sign things, we may as well make a splash.”
“Good. am not meant to be a secret,” Brixaby said. “Let’s fly. What are you waiting for? Why are you still in bed?”
Things had been hectic since Brixaby had grown to his current size. Unlike most dragons who grew with meat and time, Brixaby grew on a diet of cards and card shards. Thanks to ingesting a Legendary card, he’d gone from the size of a large parrot to the size of a cart-donkey — finally big enough to bear Arthur’s weight in flight.
Unfortunately, they’d only had time to fly while in battle. No time to actually enjoy being in the air together. Arthur didn’t even have a proper dragon saddle. Luckily, he always had his dragon-riding skills to lean on.
He settled himself on Brixaby’s back right at the base of his neck. It was the only spot that was devoid of sharp backward-facing ridges.
The most Brixaby grew, the spikier he became.
The moment he was seated, Brixaby beat his four wings, and they flew straight up into the air. Then, once he gained a little height, they shot right toward the middle of the city, weaving his way up and around buildings.
They passed people who were having an early morning breakfast on their balconies. Arthur waved at them — one dazed looking person waved back.
People pointed from the street at Brixaby dived down low, skimming over the tops of night-shuttered vendor’s booths. The wind-wash from Brixaby’s wings made the colorful flags and banners flap.
At Arthur’s whoop of exhilaration, Brixaby climbed into the air again, turning this way and that to avoid low-slung clothes lines which were strung between buildings. Arthur shifted his weight along with him, moving with his dragon as an active participant.
He was rewarded with another Dragon Riding skill, bringing him to level 14.
Arthur pointed. “Let’s take a look at the tallest buildings. There’s something weird about them.”
They were coming up toward the very center of the city where a grouping of high buildings seemed to stretch to the sky.
As Arthur and Brixaby drew closer, it became clear the buildings were stacked so close together that there wasn’t any room between them. And in the rare places there were gaps, it was filled by a rock wall every bit as sturdy looking as the one that surrounded the city.
The drone of Brixaby’s wings changed tone as he once again stopped moving forward and began to climb straight up. And up. And up.
They crested the top to discover that the buildings bracketed an entire city block on all four sides.
And in the middle sat… a pit.
Looking at it, Arthur had no doubt that this was the dark heart of the city. The pit was so deep that he couldn’t see to the bottom. Yet, as he stared, he got the impression of something… pulsing down there. His eyes wanted to slide away. He was looking at something that should not be.
The hair rose on the back of Arthur’s neck. It was all too easy to tear his gaze away and back to the buildings. There were no windows facing the dark heart. Just blank wall as if no one could stand to look into it.
He swallowed through a throat that had gone suddenly dry. “Brix, don’t fly down there.”
“Of course not,” Brixaby replied. “You heard Dannill. It’s not ready to be harvested yet.”
Arthur exhaled a little breath of relief, glad he wouldn’t have to talk him out of anything foolish. Dragons could be very insistent on killing scourgelings.
“Let’s see what’s on the other side of the city.”
Brixaby complied and soon they were flying at breakneck speed out towards the opposite side from where they’d come in yesterday. It wasn’t too different — more buildings in that staggered height.
Then they were over the wall and out to the forest again. Only then did Brixaby lose his speed, favoring a more sedate pace. The land was completely uncultivated as if it hadn’t been touched by human hands at all.
Arthur looked around in satisfaction. After all, this was a brand-new kingdom, a whole new part of the world to explore. He wanted to see what it looked like.
“Climb higher, Brix. As high as you can!”
Brixaby buzzed on — not to the height of the clouds, but so high up that the green tops of the trees were smaller than a pinhead.
Only then did Arthur catch a shadow out in the distance. He pointed. “What’s that dark spot? The ocean?”
“If it is, I should like a swim.”
“You can swim?”
“How hard could it be?” Brixaby asked.
But as they got closer, that smudge against the horizon expanded and also resolved itself. Arthur’s stomach sank.
“That’s not the ocean. That’s scourge-dead lands.”
“It’s not all dead,” Brixaby said. “I see something ahead.”
Arthur didn’t, but with a neck-jerking change of direction, Brixaby started flying directly to the south. They were still headed towards the deadened lands, but as they drew closer Arthur saw a strip of darker color running through the gray-dead dirt. Pounded soil that indicated a road.
And beyond that, Arthur spotted tiny moving objects along the road. It was an oxen caravan.
“How desperate must people be to cross the dead lands?” He wondered. People who were uncarded would be at great risk of becoming sick.
Though… his own childhood village had been on the edge of the deadened lands, and there were rumors that bandits camped out miles out into the dead areas. But it was a place which was hostile to life in every way. Nothing could grow. The water itself was poison, and if scourge dust got into lungs or an open cut people would sicken and die.
“Brix,” Arthur said as another thought occurred to him. “How far does this extend?”
“As far as I can see.” Brixaby sounded mildly bored as if nothing out here could interest him. “Past the horizon. Why?”
“Cressida and Horatio,” Arthur said, with a feeling of sick guilt. “They’ll have to cross all of this to get here.”
****
After that, much of the joy had been drained out of the flight. Brixaby turned back to the city and their roof-top home.
But they weren’t alone. The trap door had been broken open and three stern officials dressed in uniform were waiting for them.