B4 Ch12: New Party Member? (Patreon)

Come morning, there was a knock at the door.

Arthur snorted awake, confused, because he didn’t remember falling asleep. Embarrassingly, he suspected he had slipped off while speaking to Brixaby. Hustling the displaced kids and annoyed Sheriffs out of his room had taken some time, and he’d been suffering backlash from the 20 Point Spree card.

Brixaby, who’d been sleeping by Arthur’s bed, popped his head up with narrowed eyes to the door. “Who dares disturb my rest?”

A quiet, yet firm voice on the other side replied, “Dragon rider? Are you up?”

Brixaby and Arthur exchanged a look.

“I don’t sound like that,” Arthur muttered, threw back the thin hospital blankets, and stood. He didn’t realize until he was on his feet that felt quite a bit stronger. That was good because he’d felt as weak as a kitten before.

… And he was back to being as poor as a stray cat.

All of the Rare shards that had been grudgingly awarded to him and Brixaby for saving the children had been instantly snapped up by the hospital as payment for his healing costs. Those had been incredibly excessive – he was certain that some of the fees had been made up on the spot. For example, having his own room for healing had been a Rare shard all by itself just for the night.

But as he had been trapped in a hospital bed, he hadn’t been in a position to object. He was just glad that Brixaby had eaten as many card shard as he had on the sly back in the dead lands, not counting the Rare card that was still with Marion… though he half-suspected the prince would put it into his heart. The temptation to stop the ache must be terrible.

All this flashed through his mind as he stepped to the door. Opening it, he was surprised to see the suspicious girl from glad night standing on the other side.

Now that he wasn’t threatened by oncoming scourgelings or suffering backlash, he had a second chance to look at her. She was tall for a woman, about his height with dark hair and dark eyes, and a deep tan. It looked like she’d finally had some access to cleaning facilities because Arthur spotted freckles under the tan.

She was pretty, though in a completely different way than Cressida.

Even though her eyes were still narrowed in suspicion.

“Can I come in?” she asked, one step from a demand.

“Yes,” Arthur said, “but just to warn you, my dragon is in here too, and he’s very protective.” A silent warning that she had better not threaten him.

She nodded once, and though her expression didn’t change on seeing Brixaby again, there was a slight stutter in her step. She’d seen him last night, of course, but she likely had her hands full with all the crying, semi-hysterical children.

Closing the door, Arthur turned. “How can I help you?” he asked, pointedly. That had been a trick he’d picked up from Valentina. Technically, as a Legendary rider, people should – and did – fall over themselves to try to “help” him and get into his good graces. So, it put people on the wrong foot when Arthur asked if he could help them, instead. It was a polite request to forget whatever fluff they’d come up with to butter him up and get right to the point, instead.

She took a breath. “I wanted to apologize for my… my attitude back in the deadened lands,” she said quickly, as if it pained her to speak the words. “You were a true hero, and I didn’t think those existed anymore outside of children’s stories. I thought you were working some angle, but I could hear the scourgelings outside… and I didn’t have much of a choice.” Her chin lifted. “But I should have trusted you. You kept your word, and more. You got us all out to safety without losing any of the little un’s, and I didn’t think that would be possible.”

While the words were pretty, it was all said quick and clipped as if she hated every second of it.

“You’re welcome,” Arthur said, watching her. “I was glad to help.”

She nodded once as if having checked off a box from her list. “Also, I wanted to know where you bought your dragon egg.”

There it was: The real reason why she’d come, he thought stifling a smile.

“I didn’t buy him—” he started but was overridden by Brixaby.

“All of the highest noble scions and people of importance had come to witness my hatching. I merely picked the cream of the crop.” He sat up to his full height of nearly six feet, his tail tucked primly around his claws.

“Yes… well,” Arthur said, “That’s one way to look at it.” He looked at the girl. “I come from… well, we just call it The Kingdom, but you call it the Faberge Kingdom. We don’t buy dragon eggs – the dragons pick their riders.” Mostly, he added, thinking sourly of the King’s threats. He didn’t expand on that, and just went on, quickly, to outline the system of dragon hives and how it was needed to take on the kingdom’s scourgeling eruptions.

Her eyes grew rounder as he went on, though it wasn’t from fear, it was from excitement.

“When you go back, can I go with you?” she asked, breathlessly. “I can pay my way, come then. In the meantime, I can help – whatever chores you need to have happen.”

Arthur hesitated. Brixaby extended his neck toward her. She backed a half-step before she mastered herself and stood still while he gave her a quick sniff over.

“You have no cards. You’d be useless – less than useless, you’d be a burden.”

“This will be after the reshuffling, right? I won’t be a burden then. I’ll have cards to my name – maybe even a full deck,” she said boldly in a way that told Arthur she had no idea how extraordinary that was.

“Let’s back up a step,” Arhtur said. “I don’t even know your name.”

“Soledad Boudreaux,” she said, “If it helps, I come from the Boudreaux house in N’awlens.”

That meant nothing to Arthur. “Okay, what about the kids. Your siblings? You’d be leaving them behind.”

Soledad made an impatient gesture. “None of those littles are my siblings. I was just traveling with the wagons, and as the oldest unmarried girl I was put in charge. But they’re safe now. Most have been reunited with their parents – those who’re left. And…” She shrugged. “The rest who lost both parents were put in city foster house. I saw them last night. They’re clean and will be well cared for and will probably be given cards when they’re old enough. It’s better than what any of them could have expected.”

She seemed to be a hard person at heart, but it was something Arthur recognized. She was hard in the same way the village borderland families had to be in a place where death was common and kids were a burden until they were old enough to help out in the dragon soil fields.

He didn’t necessarily like her, but he did understand her.

“So, you have nobody?” he pressed. “The kingdom I come from is across the world. You’d be leaving everyone behind.”

“No, I…” She paused, eyes narrowing again. “I guess you’re new here, so you wouldn’t have heard. N’awlens was all run over by our dark heart. The authorities said they were keeping a close eye on it and were just waiting for it to ripen to its peak. Maybe they did and it just exploded out before anyone could do anything. I think they were just drunk and corrupt,” she muttered. “Not that it mattered. Most people lost everything.”

Arthur winced. He could imagine it easily: An eruption right in the middle of the city and with no dragons to battle the scourgelings back. “What happened after that?”

“It took months to knock it down, but the land is poisoned. It’s pretty much turning into deadened lands now. The rich got themselves out first, and whatever people are left tried to hang on… but we can’t stop the for. It’s everywhere.”

“No dragon soil,” Brixaby muttered in his and Arthur’s language.

Soledad went on. “Now, anyone who can load a cart is getting out. I said I’d keep an eye on all the little kids, and that’s how I got my ticket out. Now I’m here, and it’s time I start a new life. I got no one left back there – everyone who survived the dark heart started getting taken by the rot.”

He’d been wondering what would send people across the deadened lands. That would do it.

“I’m sorry,” Arthur said. “I lost as sister to the rot.”

She shook her head, rejecting all pity. “Yeah, but you can face down those creatures. I heard people talk. Those were a big pack of Rares out there, and you still got us all out. I want that. And I want to be able to fly.”

She looked at Brixaby as if he were a useful vehicle instead of a living, breathing creature. He supposed that was fair. Brixaby was looking at her as if she might have a seed of usefulness to him, too. Buried way deep down below.

“I’m not saying yes,” Arthur said, “Or even maybe. There are complications.”

“Like what?” she asked.

“For one thing, I have no way of getting back to the kingdom right now. I’m hoping after the reshuffling I’ll be able to buy a portal back, if that’s even possible,” if that’s where I need to go next, he thought. “For another, even if I could, Brixaby is only large enough to carry me. Though we might be able to arrange something else by then.”

Brixaby added, “Dragons choose their riders, and they will not care about your sad story. They choose depending on if a card in your heart is compatible with their core card.”

Arthur picked up his point. “So, you may want to think about what kind of card you want, because that will determine the type of dragon. And you’ll need to be able to speak my language because no one speaks Texan over there—”

He was stocked by a knock on the door.

“Now what?” Brixaby demanded. “More useless children come to beg their way into my retinue?”

“I won’t be useless for long,” Soledad said.

He narrowed his blood red eyes at her. “We’ll see.”

The knock came again. Arthur answered it, figuring it was probably the healer come to check on him, and boot him out of the room now he was on his feet again.

But he was surprised once more. It was Marion, loaded down with a tray overflowing with food. Arthur spotted at least two small, round loaves of bread, one of which seemed to be cut out and stuffed with chili. There were squares of some yellow, crumbly biscuits, and glasses of water that were worryingly brown.

“Came for lunch,” he said then stopped. “I didn’t know you had company.”

“A visitor,” Arhtur said, unsure if he should pretend he didn’t know Marion or not.

Marion decided it for him.

“And who are you then?” he asked, setting down the tray and adjusting his glasses to look the girl up and down.

“Soledad Boudreaux. Who’re you?”

“They call me Marion,” he said blandly.

“She’s one of the—” Arthur started to say, ‘kids’ but changed it because Soledad looked close to his age, “survivors from yesterday.”

“I heard about that. Sending wagons across the deadlands.” He shook his head. “Perilous.”

Soledad held herself tight as if bracing against criticism. “It’s worse where I came from. You want my advice? You watch your dark heart here like a hawk watches a mouse.”

“Oh, I’m assured that they are. But I think it’s for greed rather than anything else,” Marion drawled. “They want it right at the point of eruption – apparently when it’s just stuffed full of magic.” Then Marion noticed that both Arthur and Soledad were staring fixedly at the tray he’d brought it. “Well, dig in. Try the drink, first. They call it sweet tea, here. I don’t think it’s good for your teeth, but I’m no healer yet.”

Arthur broke the yellowcake thing first and gave half to Soledad. It was indeed a biscuit but incredibly sweet on his tongue.

Marion grinned at his expression. “Yes, they put sugar in everything here, even the cornmeal. I love it.”

“Are you from another city-state?” Soledad asked. “You don’t have cornbread there?”

“I come from the Faberge Kingdom.”

“Like Arthur?”

Marion glanced at him, then shrugged. “Yes.”

“She wants to be a dragon rider,” Arthur explained.

“Right now, she is cardless and wouldn’t attract a Common yellow,” Brixaby snorted. He slunk over and stole one of the round bread loaves and started tearing it up into easy chunks, popping them in his mouth as neatly as a person would.

“I don’t care what it is, as long as it has wings and can fight,” Soledad said.

Arthur, who’d taken up the other loaf and saw it had been filled with chili like a bowl, took up a spoon then looked at her. “Maybe she’ll get a red, you think? They like to fight?”

He found Marion gazing at her speculatively. “I was always rather bad at guessing what people get, though I suppose she should aim for an elemental combat card.” He explained for her benefit, “When a card – especially a first card – is inserted into your heart, you sort of grow around it.”

That pinged something in Arthur’s mind, but it was gone before he could chase it down.

“Well, I want something that can fight, whatever it is,” Soledad insisted.

“Any dragon can fight,” Arthur said. “I have a friend who has a pink meta dragon and… well, she has a poison aspect now, but she’s killed more than Brix and I combined. I have another who has a yellow and can permanently blind you with some weird invisible light. There are a lot of ways to be dangerous.”

“So, you’d rather be a dragon rider than fight like the adventurers here?” Marion asked.

Arthur turned to him. “How do they do it here?”

“Body modification cards, for the most part,” he said with an air of distaste. “Fairly extreme ones, too. Some of them are barely recognizable as human. They have to have specialist healers look at them when they’re injured because their bodies don’t even work the same way.”

“I often thought most humans could use some adjustment,” Brixaby said, then clarified, “Though not Arthur, unless he gains wings. Though now that I can carry us both, that is less of a problem. Arthur, hand me a glass of that sweet tea. I will try it.”

“Well, whatever,” Soledad muttered, around her own bowl of chili she’d taken. “I’d rather fly on anything, any color, than fight in the city-state way.”

“Ah yes, I’ve heard about the government card loans,” Marion said with a wince.

She snorted her agreement.

“Fill me in?” Arthur asked. “I’d heard they pay a steep price, but is it that bad?”

“It’s that bad,” Marion confirmed. “Every child of age gets a card – it’s a requirement not to get the rot around here, and you’ve seen the cost of getting healed up. But not only is the initial cost high, many people can barely read or write and don’t understand what compound interest is.”

“I don’t know what that is,” Soledad said, “But I don’t like going into debt.”

“Then you’ve got good instincts.” Marion’s voice was unusually warm. Arthur shot him a look, and found he was gazing at Soledad again.

She continued. “Yeah, the cost for healing is crazy – they found rot spots on my lungs last night from the crossing. I had to pay four Rare shards to get it taken care of. I don’t got it, of course, but they’re going to give me three months to pay them back. Then the interest starts.” She seemed more annoyed than concerned about this, but Arthur thought that might be one of the reasons why she was so eager to get out of the city-state.

Marion nodded. “I’ve heard that type of story before. Though,” he added, “the pay for healers is quite good. That’s probably done so they don’t open their own practice and make a bundle just by charging a little less.”

Arthur shook his head. “Healing is free where I’m from… unless you’re born as a surf under an uncaring noble and it’s not available at all.”

Marion gave him an odd look, but then shrugged. “Or you bond to some purple Common and you’re relegated to a rescue squad for the rest of your life.”

“They call those squads the Lobos, back in my hive,” Arthur said. “I never thought rescue duty would bad.”

“Good thing you ended up with a purple,” Marion drawled.

Soledad’s eyebrows rose and she looked at Brixaby doubtfully. “Purple? You mean, the cracks between his scales?”

“I transcend purple,” Brixaby told her.

“Brix is a little special,” Arthur said.

“Which reminds me, now that you’ve eaten.” Marion pulled out a thick envelope from his vest. The wax seal on the front was broken. “This came from the Over-sheriff. She said you need to see it right away.”

Annoyed, Arthur snatched it from him. “Then why didn’t you deliver it? And why did you read it?”

Marion didn’t bother to deny the last part. “Healer’s orders. Closing a wound like yours takes a lot of energy, and you needed to eat first.”

“And the seal?”

Marion looked at him over his glasses. “I was curious, Arthur. You can’t expect me not to read everything in sight.”

Rolling his eyes, Arthur took out the message and read. It was short – the thick aspect came from the fairly expensive envelope and paper it had been printed on. He read through it, though it took him a few more seconds than usual to parse out the unfamiliar language.

“What is it?” Brixaby asked, when he could stand the silence no longer.

“It looks like the sheriffs are putting together a group of adventurers to take care of the Rares,” Arthur said. “We’re to lead them to where we were attacked.”

“And, naturally, hunt for them ourselves,” Brixaby added.

Arthur smiled tightly but didn’t say anything as he folded the envelope. Soledad looked on with envy.

“Make sure you don’t do it for free,” Marion said. “Remember: Everything has a price here.”

“Oh, I don’t intend to,” Arthur said.

He already knew what he was doing to ask sheriff Walker to go back out there again.