Dragon Glaive: Draco Project Traveler

It was just the beginning of evening, but the sky above Locopolis was dark and lowering, partly because of an approaching storm and partly because of the cloud of smoke which constantly hung over the city. The air was hot and heavy as if it were about rain. But that didn't change the fact that the plaza in front of the main terminal was packed. At any hour of the day or even of the night, you could find at least a small crowd here--and whenever a train was approaching, it swelled to such a size that the plaza seemed unable to contain it.

Considering how packed the area was, it was almost impossible to take special note of anything. Certainly, nobody was going to pay much attention to a single small, somewhat ragged figure who slipped inconspicuously through the crowd. It was the figure of a boy, around eleven, lithe and slender, but slightly tall for his age. His skin was swarthy but his eyes were sky blue and his hair (worn in a mullet) was the color of copper. He was barefooted and bare-armed, though he had something like a rope wrapped his right forearm. There was nothing, in particular, that would make him stand out from any other of hundreds of boys in Locopolis. Which was just the way he liked it. Cason McGuire had every reason to want to remain inconspicuous.

Especially tonight.

He paused for a moment in the shadow of a pillar in the middle of the plaza. He tightened the cinch on his headband, using that as a cover to glance around him. He was puzzled that there were no guards in the plaza. Usually, there would be several stationed around the outskirts and one or two mingling with the crowd. He was just as glad they weren't there, but it worried him. Why weren't they there and where were they instead? If they were inside the terminal, that might prove troublesome. But there was no point in worrying about that until the time came.

He slipped on through the crowd, passing without notice through the milling people. Though it was hard to see much with the press, he did note a plume of black smoke in the distance which signaled that a train was nearing the station. It was the train from the south, bringing in guardsmen from the Fortress of the Wilds as well as meat from southern farms which would be put on a train westward to processing plants to be preserved. Cason made it his business to know about all the trains coming in and out of Locopolis.

There were other forms of transportation in the kingdom, but the trains were the fastest and more efficient, at least for long-distance travel. Countless railroads crossed and crisscrossed the kingdom, and nearly all of them intersected here in Locopolis. Though not the largest city in the kingdom and not, in a political sense, the most important, it was in a real sense the heart of the kingdom, pumping the steam-powered blood of the kingdom across its metallic veins.

Not that Cason generally thought in metaphors.

With as much noise as was going on, it was hard to imagine that any specific sound being noticed, but there was one sound that could always attract attention in that kingdom. Cason tensed slightly as a harsh scream sounded in the distance. A shadow passed over his face, which always happened when he heard a dragon. Then he cinched his headband again and moved on. He was almost to the terminal and he had to keep his mind on his mission. If a dragon showed up in the middle of town, that might actually help him, since that would definitely give the guard other things to think about.

He had reached the terminal now and for a moment waited, leaning casually against the wall, just to make sure nobody was likely to notice him.

He needn't have worried. With an active dragon in the vicinity, nobody was looking at him. From his position, he couldn't see the dragon, but apparently, it was within sight of the plaza. Everyone was looking upwards and one man in the middle of the plaza had thrown up his arm, pointing to the sky. “The dragon still flies!”

The shadow over Cason's face darkened and he muttered a word under his breath that a boy of eleven shouldn't even have known. There was no mistaking the tone of exaltation in the man's voice. Locopolis was always a strange city, a meeting place for all kinds of ideas and influences. But to think that some people here actually beginning to accept the dragons, to be proud of them! Cason shook his head. At this point, nothing should have surprised him about this town. And that obviously wasn't his problem.

Certain that nobody was paying the least attention to him, he unwrapped the cord from around his arm, which (when unwound) turned out to be a long whip made of fibers that looked almost metallic and a short metal handle polished 'til it looked like glass. He lashed upward and the end of his whip curled around the railing above the station, forming a rope which he could climb up. Normally, that wouldn't be possible, but this was a very special whip. He scampered up and detached the whip, wrapping it back around his arm. For a moment he crouched in the shadows on the roof, waiting to make sure he hadn't attracted any attention. And because of his position on the roof of the terminal he had a good view of what happened next.

The train was almost to the city, and from one of the cars, two figures shot upward, flying by means of wing-like flight gear. He couldn't see them clearly, but based on their armor, he figured they were royal guards, which made sense if they were coming from the Fortress of the Wild. As they rose, they drew their weapons, and Cason noted one had a glaive and the other had a broadsword. No, two broadswords.

He started. He knew of only one soldier in all the kingdom who dual-wielded broadswords like that. Even if Locopolis far south of the capital, they had still heard of the fame of V'kaya of the Two Blades here. He wondered what on earth she was doing in this part of the kingdom--assuming it was she.

Now he could see the dragon too. It was a huge, ugly beast (not that there were any other kinds of dragon). Too far away to see the horn and judge the age. Not that Cason especially cared. His hatred for the guard and for dragons was just about equal, so the outcome of the fight didn't interest him. However, the dragon was just over the plaza now. If they killed it, the carcass would fall into the plaza--no way people could escape with the press without being killed. For just a second, he smiled a little grimly. That seemed fitting for people who were willing to accept the dragons.

He hadn't intended to watch the end of the fight. But the fight was over sooner than he imagined. The soldier with the broadswords had closed in and was slashing the dragon in the face and wings with her swords, not even giving it the time to counter. Meanwhile, the soldier with the glaive had taken a position high above the dragon. And then, just as the dragon reared back, preparing no doubt to let out a barrage of dragonsfire, the soldier with the broadswords dropped down out of the way while, at the same exact moment, the soldier with the glaive shot downward. Even from this distance, Cason noted that the blade of the glade was glowing strangely. It must be an elemental weapon of some kind, but Cason didn't have time even to guess what kind before the blade of the glaive connected with the back of the dragon's neck, even as the soldier who wielded it dropped sideways out of the way.

And then, there was a crash of sound which might have been only distant thunder and a plume of white smoke billowing upwards like a giant mushroom. And where the dragon had been there was nothing except for a few fragments of ash which floated slowly downward like light snow.

Cason shook his head. Naturally. He should have known. This kingdom was a kingdom of death and fire, darkened by the shadow of the dragons which had possessed it for hundreds of years, since the “golden age”, assuming you believed official histories, which Cason didn't. The word on the street had always been that the royal family knew very well where the dragons had come from. And while officially the royal guard was locked in a never-ending and largely hopeless battle with the dragons, he had just seen that they had a weapon powerful enough to destroy a dragon in a single hit. If King Anados really wanted to cleanse the kingdom of dragons, obviously he could have. Did even the government accept the dragons? Or did they just find them useful as an excuse to keep the kingdom more-or-less under military law? Who knew?

Meanwhile, the dragon was down meaning that he could no longer count on that as a distraction. He needed to move quickly. The roof of the terminal had a fairly gentle pitch, so it was a simple matter for him to make his way across it. There was a large balcony or patio near the top and he had reached that when something happened which drew his attention back to the plaza.

Apparently, rather than trying to land on the train which had already pulled into the station, the two soldiers had dropped to the ground on the outskirts of the plaza and tried to make their way on foot through the crowd. That made sense--it would be impossible to try to land in the middle of that crowd.

But as they tried to make their way through the crowd, someone shouted out: “It's them--them what's killed the dragon!”

“Dragon killers!” shouted someone else.

Since when had 'dragon-killer' become an insult, Cason wondered.

It was like someone had thrown a spark into a pot of oil. In an instant, the entire crowd was in a frenzy, churning around them like an angry river. Everyone was shouting and it was hard to make out anything, though the words “Defilers” and “Traitors” seemed to come up a lot. The mob was trying to attack the two soldiers, though with the press they were just as like to hurt themselves. From his position, Cason couldn't really make out what was going on, but a riot was definitely a good thing for him at the moment. And while he was still staggered that people in Locopolis would start taking the side of the dragons, he couldn't deny having a certain pleasure in a scenario in which both the dragons and the guards lost.

But in any event, he had work to do and he had wasted too much time. He clambered up and over the railing to the balcony and then, crouching slightly, scurried across the balcony to the stairs that ran down into the interior of the terminal. Hopefully, if there had been any guards in the terminal, they would have been called out by the riot.

The top floor of the terminal was rather dimly lighted. It wasn't quite dark enough for all the internal lights to be on but not light enough for the outside light to provide much illumination. There was no one around. Cason had been casing the terminal for weeks, getting reading for this and he knew this part generally wasn't frequented and also wasn't guarded. Clearly, they didn't expect anyone to come in through roof--rather shortsighted, really, but also convenient.

There was no point in being inconspicuous now. If anyone saw him, they would know something was up. Which was why he didn't intend to be seen. He moved down the side of the hallway, walking quickly but lightly, almost on tiptoes. He was holding his whip, lightly coiled, in his right hand. You never knew when it might be needed.

He paused as he reached an intersecting hallway. This whole thing bothered him. He had known that there wouldn't be many guards around--but there should have been some. Of course, they might be outside dealing with the riot, he supposed. Still, the silence and emptiness bothered him.

He moved to the very corner of the hall and pushed the handle of the whip around the corner. It was so shiny that he could use it as a mirror, letting him see around the corner without pushing his head out. As he had suspected, there was a guard stationed here, at the door just a few feet down the hall. At least they weren't completely inefficient.

Cason tightened the cinch on his headband and took a deep breath, letting his whip fall out to its full length. And then in a single moment, he sprung around the corner, landing on his feet beside the guard. The guard had clearly not been expecting any action and had been leaning, almost sleepily, against the wall with his hands behind his head. He barely had time to move before Cason struck. With a single movement of his wrist, Cason's whip shot out and wrapped around the guard's chest. In the same movement, Cason rubbed his fingers across the handle of the whip, and a stream of blue and white sparks traveled down the length of the whipcord, and across the guard's chest. He gave a muffled scream and stumbled forward and as he did, Cason pulled back on the whip, pulling the man off balance and sending him to the ground. The electric shock, combined with the fall, was enough to leave him unconscious.

Cason stepped over his body and tried the door which the guard had been guarding. It was locked but a single attack from his whip was enough to break the lock. And just like that, he was inside. Seriously, if he had known this would be so easy, he would have tried it long before. He wasn't going to complain about an easy job, but he had been expecting more of a challenge. He was surprised the terminal hadn't been robbed blind by this time.

He had been able to find out that this room was where they kept all the money taken in from the terminal. The only question was where. He glanced around the room and then headed for the desk in the back. Almost certainly it would be there. There was a curtain on the wall behind the desk and, as he suspected, when pushed aside it revealed a strongbox. His whip might not be able to break that open, but it was small enough he could just carry it away and worry about opening it later.

He reached up his hand to pull the box out--when without warning, something whizzed past his ear, grazed his hand, and buried itself in the wood of the wall. The unexpected shock caused Cason one uncustomary moment of surprise and in that moment he dropped his whip.

“Now, why don't you leave that where it is and try to convince me that you have some right to be here. That sounds fun.”

Cason knew he was trapped. Slowly and warily, he turned around to face his accuser. To his surprise, it wasn't one of the guards or someone from the terminal. It was a short woman, probably in her late twenties, holding a crossbow in one hand and twirling an enormous shuriken in the other. Her animal-hide clothing and bone-like hair ornaments clearly marked her as one of the southern barbarians, though one didn't often see dark-haired barbarians.

“Who are you?” he asked, wondering if he could reach down and get his whip and attack before she could.

“Oh, so you want to be social, do you? I doubt the name of Kendra the Hunter means anything this far north, but trust me that I know a thing or two about hunting any kind of prey, even the human kind. Also known as a deadly shot and a half-way decent singer.”

Cason was good at sizing people up and he quickly came to the conclusion that Kendra was not to be trifled with. She spoke casually, almost facetiously, but there was determination and competence in her stance. He would be better off to stall until someone actually official showed up. His chances of escaping the guard were much better than this stranger.

“What's a barbarian doing this far north?” He spoke sullenly, keeping his eyes on her crossbow.

“Oh, sightseeing. Hunting. Herding. Mundane perhaps, but perfectly honest. Which is more than I can say for whatever you're doing.” She glanced down at her shuriken, but Cason could tell she was still looking at him. “My people may be savages, but even they have no use for thieves.” She glanced back at him. “They feed them to the jackals--if they feel merciful.”

“And what do they do if they don't feel merciful?” Cason knew keeping her talking was the best way for something new to develop.

“You're too young to hear about that. Now, come on. I promised to meet Prince Aiden here--I was on my way to the rendezvous when that unconscious guard outside suggested that something might be happening here.”

Cason made no movement with his face, but internally he raised his eyebrows in surprise. Aiden II--the crown prince--he was here in Locopolis? And he was meeting with this barbarian? That would be surprising enough under normal circumstances, but the word on the street was that King Anados was sick and Aiden was now acting ruler, even though there had been no official statement on the matter. What would an acting king be doing here?

“First a dragon, then, a riot, and now you,” Kendra continued musingly. “Life in the city is certainly fast-paced, if not especially challenging.” She stepped forward quickly and gathered up his whip in one hand, still covering him with her crossbow with the other. “Now, come along and be a good boy and I may decide to let the guard arrest you when we're done.”

“And what will you do otherwise?”

“I don't think either one of us wants to know the answer to that.”

A minute later, Cason found him standing on the balcony of the terminal, overlooking the plaza. Now that they were outside, he might have been able to make his escape, but he didn't like the odds with Kendra still holding her crossbow on him and, anyway, if it all possible he needed to get his whip back before he escaped. He noted, with slight surprise, that the plaza below was quiet and unusually empty. “The riot is over already?”

“Naturally. What do you think I've been doing since I got here? Every hunter worth her salt knows how to manage a stampede. I just hope that Aiden and V'kaya weren't hurt during it.” She twirled her shuriken carelessly, still keeping one eye on him. “Are riots common around here?”

Cason shrugged. Just because Kendra had captured him didn't mean he had to talk to her. Anyway, that wasn't an easy question to answer. Locopolis was always a volatile city, and so riots were more common here than in other cities, perhaps, but something had been different lately.

Kendra didn't press him for an answer because at that moment, three figures appeared on the balcony, apparently in the middle of a conversation.

“Your highness, again, I wish to extend to you my heartfelt apologies that--”

“Yes, yes, your statements have been duly noted, Commissioner. Now, if you please--”

Cason took a good look at the speaker. This had to be Prince Aiden. Rather a disappointing figure. A lean young man, hardly more than a boy, with black hair, streaked with red. He wore the armor of an ordinary member of the royal guard, but his face was more that of a scholar than a soldier. But Cason noted that he carried a glaive in a holder in his back. He had to have been the soldier who had engaged the dragon earlier.

The woman walking in front of him was unmistakably V'kaya of the Two Blades. Cason had heard too much of her to mistake her appearance. A tall, dark-haired woman (though really probably no more than 19 or 20 in age) in dusky armor, armed with two large broad-swords.

The third figure, the one who had been addressing Aiden as they appeared, was one that Cason knew all too well. A lanky, sallow man with thin brown hair and an irritatingly small mustache, dressed in a brown suit and carrying his derby hat in one hand, out of deference to royalty. It was Commissioner D'Orsay Sacheverell, the head of the guard of Locopolis.

“If there is anything I can do--” he was saying, licking the corners of his lips nervously.

“It would be too late now if there were,” remarked V'kaya darkly. “We could have been killed in that riot before you did anything.”

“But we weren't killed.” Prince Aiden spoke in an even voice, the voice of one in authority, the voice of one with everything under control. But Cason could tell it had a strain of irritation or agitation in it, too. “If you can find the agitators who started the riot, that would be of help, Commissioner. But beyond that, I believe there is nothing you can do.”

“I have some of my best men working on that already, and--” For the first time, the three newcomers seemed to become aware of Kendra and Cason. Commissioner Sacheverell's face grew paler and he started slightly. “You!” he exclaimed, with great emphasis if not originality.

“Commish,” greeted Cason, touching the brim of an imaginary hat.

Aiden and V'kaya were also staring at him with something of surprise. “What kind of prey have you been hunting this time, Kendra?” asked the prince, curiously.

“Oh, I just ran into this boy trying to rob the terminal on my way up,” explained Kendra, with perfect composure, “so I brought him along for company while I waited for you.”

For just an instant, a strange look glinted in Prince Aiden's clear green eyes. “A thief, you say?”

“Not just a thief,” exclaimed the commissioner, the strength of irritation giving him unusual animation. “This miscreant is the bane of my existence. The complaints I've had--all the times we've arrested him--all the times he's escaped--” He trailed off, chocked by the very strength of his irritation.

A scornful note colored the grim smile of V'kaya of the Two Blades. “A beardless boy is able to cause such annoyance to the guards of Locopolis? That explains many things.”

“All the times you've arrested him?” repeated Aiden, in a quiet voice. “How many times?”

“Twenty, at least.”

“Twenty-three,” corrected Cason, who had realized he wasn't going to escape his position at the moment and might as well enjoy it.

The commissioner started spluttering again, but a deep shadow of thought had fallen over Aiden's face. “How much money would have been in the safe in the terminal--the one he was trying to rob?”

Commissioner Sacheverell named a figure.

Internally, Cason cursed himself. He didn't like getting caught, but he could accept it. If they beat him, he would bear it. As he always had before. If they locked him up, he would escape. As he always had before. But that sum of money--that was more than three times what he had been figuring to find. To think that he had come within a hair's breadth of such a haul and then lost it--that was the real blow.

For just an instant, Prince Aiden closed his eyes. “Then I think this case falls under my jurisdiction.”

Commissioner Sacheverell gaped at him.

“Now, Commissioner, thank you for all your help. But I do not believe we need you for anything further.”

The commissioner opened his mouth to speak, but Prince Aiden's words and tone didn't really leave him any room to argue. So he bowed, and saying, “I will happy to serve however I can if you require anything, your highness,” vanished down the stairs into the terminal.

The instant he was gone, Aiden's expression and manner changed. It grew more serious and urgent as he turned to Kendra. “Did you leave the train as soon as it came into the station?”

“Of course. I saw that riot going on and assumed you were in the middle of it and would need my help.”

“We could have managed on our own,” remarked V'kaya stolidly.

“So you can't say anything about what happened to the train?”

“No, not after I left. Why? Did something happen to it?”

Aiden's face was grim and his voice low and serious. “The Traveler was stolen.”

Kendra whistled and twirled her shuriken in surprise. “How exactly does one steal an entire train car?”

“I'm afraid I don't know that. But it was stolen. Along with its contents. And you know what that means.”

Cason didn't know what that meant. But he hoped if they kept talking about it and ignoring him, he might actually get the chance to escape. But the next instant, Aiden turned to look directly at him, clasping his hands behinds his back. “What is your name, anyway?”

“Cason.”

“Cason what?”

“Just Cason.” Cason had no intention of telling them his last name. Or anything else that they didn't need to know.

“It seems that you have quite the reputation in this town.”

“And quite the criminal record,” added Kendra.

“Why do you do it? Supporting your family?”

Cason gave a short, bitter laugh. “Don't have any family. There's nobody I care about, and nobody cares about me.” It was true, though he probably would have said it even if it wasn't true.

V'kaya glanced at Aiden. “In a time like this, why are you wasting your time with this riffraff?” Clearly, she was irritated. “Thieves are low enough in any world, but those who steal in this kingdom are traitors; only the worst scum would steal from those who live in the shadow of the dragons.”

“Perhaps,” said Aiden, noncommittally. He was staring thoughtfully into the distance. “But at the moment, things are a little different.” He turned around to face the two women. “Have you never heard the expression: 'Set a thief to catch a thief?'”

V'kaya and Kendra looked at him questioningly, but he ignored them, stepping forward to face Cason directly. “Let's get straight to the issue, Cason. When my companions and I left the Fortress of the Wilds, we brought with us a train car containing blocks of a special ore mined from the southern mountains by the barbarians. However, that car is now gone. It had to be stolen right from this station by someone, just a matter of minutes ago. The train car itself is of no consequence, but those blocks of ore must be recovered at any cost. And so,” he stepped back and clasped his hands behind him, “I want you to find them for us. To steal them back from whatever thief stole them from us.”

Cason listened to this recital with a blank expression. As a matter of fact, he had pieced together most of the story from what Aiden had said earlier and had guessed immediately what sort of proposition he was working up to. “Yeah?” He put his hands in his pockets. “And what's in it for me?”

V'kaya's face darkened. “Is that how you address royalty?”

Cason understood human nature well enough to know he was playing a dangerous game, but he wasn't going to back down. “Why should I care about royalty? What have the kings ever done for me?”

V'kaya took Cason's whip from Kendra. “It is too late to teach you honesty, but it may not be too late to teach you respect--” she began, stepping forward, but Aiden stopped her with a movement of his hand.

“So even in a soul like yours, there is no honor left? No loyalty to your kingdom or its king?”

“You can't eat honor.” Cason kept his hands in his pockets. “And why should I care about this kingdom just because this happens to be where I live--if you can even call it living.”

“I know many who live with that attitude--the animals that I hunt.” Kendra twirled her crossbow with perfect cheerfulness.

“Even animals have more decency then men who have lost their honor,” answered V'kaya sternly. “An animal may be tamed with kindness, but this kind can only understand force.”

“We hardly in any position to force this boy's cooperation,” Aiden answered in a quiet voice. “After all, even as acting ruler, I have no right to demand that a private citizen--criminal or no--assist me in this matter. And, anyway, if he is going to help us, we are going to have to set him free in which case he could easily disappear and so escape any threat you might hold over him.”

Cason still stood with his hands in his pockets and keeping a sort of lounging attitude. His mind, however, was working rapidly. On one hand, the fact that they were asking for his help gave him some leverage. He felt less helpless now. But on the other hand, he was worried about Aiden. This enigmatic man--so unlike either a prince or a soldier--puzzled him. There was a strange depth in his clear green eyes. He was smarter than he seemed, that much was certain.

“Of course, even if he escaped, the odds are we could catch him eventually.” Aiden spoke conversationally and it wasn't clear if he were talking to Cason, the women, or himself. “He seems to be well-known here in Locopolis and even if Sacheverell's men aren't especially competent, they've caught him before and I'm sure they could again--and especially so if he tried to leave the city, since there isn't a good way out of this city except by train, and the guard keeps close tabs on the trains.” He started pacing slowly, with his hands clasped behind his back. “And if he's caught now, things would be a little more serious. The number of his arrests and the large amount of money he tried to steal here puts him in a different class from ordinary thieves in the eyes of the law. The penalty for a felon of your class,” Aiden added, pausing in his pacing and glancing at Cason, “would be either branding or hanging. However,” he continued, pacing again, “executing either such extreme penalty on a boy so young would be rather unusual and, besides, I can't help thinking that some of the more draconian parts of our penal code are in need of revision. That being so, you would possibly receive a much more mild sentence--whenever either Minister Glosslav or myself had time to review your case and the laws involved--which, with things as they stand, would probably not be anytime soon. Given your proclivity for escaping, it would be obviously necessary to transfer you from prison here in Locopolis to the capitol's prison, from which escape might prove more difficult, even for someone of your talents.”

Cason had remained stolid throughout the prince's monologue. He was waiting for the other shoe to drop. He had never had any fear of the law or its penalties and he wasn't about to start now. To respect the law would mean to respect its officers, and that was something he definitely wasn't going to do. Nor did he think Aiden had any intention of executing the extreme penalties of the law on him. But the threat of being imprisoned in the capitol did bother him a little. He knew Locopolis inside out, and he knew perfectly well that there was no jail here that could hold him. But the capitol was a strange place. And he had heard tales of the prison there; tales which suggest that escape would be very difficult, if not impossible.

“Yeah?” he asked, still speaking calmly and even flippantly. “And what if I do help you?”

Aiden swung around on him suddenly. Before he had spoken with a strange disinterest, but now he spoke quickly and with emphasis. “So you're a thief. And you're supposed to be good at what you do. But it doesn't seem to help you very much. Those rags can't keep you very warm at night. And to look at you, I can't help but wonder when you last actually had a square meal.” He took a step forward, his eyes locked with Cason's. It wasn't quite a glare, but it was too fixed and intense to be anything else. “Is this how you want to live the rest of your life? Cold and hungry and living half your life inside a cell? Do you want to grow old sleeping in a dinghy street corner and gnawing on stolen bones?”

Cason refused to be cowed by the other's gaze. He cocked his head slightly. “You talk like I chose this life. Do you think I want to do this? It may not get me a lot of food, but if I wasn't a thief, I would've starved. I do it because I don't have a choice.”

Aiden's voice was quiet but all the more intense for that. “Now you do.” He took a step back and glanced away. “Several times already in this conversation, you've made it clear the kind of person you are--that you don't care about honor or ideals, but only about money. And so that is the only argument I have left. If you can find those blocks of ore and bring them back to me by noon tomorrow, I'll give you more money than a boy like you can imagine--enough to keep you comfortably settled for the rest of your life--along with a royal pardon and safe passage to anywhere in this kingdom or, so far as I can, any of our neighbors--so that you can set up somewhere in peace and wealth for the rest of your life.”

“You can't be serious!” V'kaya exploded and then, realizing her indiscretion, closed her mouth.

Cason cocked his head still further. “Yeah? I think the lady's right. You can't be serious. What reason do I have to believe a word you say?”

The prince shrugged. “Of course, you don't have to believe me. In which case, you're right back where you started--a felon awaiting trial. But then you'll live your life wondering--wondering if wealth beyond your wildest dreams was once within your grasp and you turned it down. But, then again, maybe the whole thing is pointless and you wouldn't be able to find the stolen ore, anyway.”

For once, Cason's mind was not calm and well-ordered. One part of his mind understood perfectly well what Prince Aiden was doing and somewhat resented it. One part was really swayed--especially by that last thrust about his not being able to find the stolen ore. And one part of his mind was thinking about that money. Aiden was right about that, anyway. Being a thief, even a master thief, didn't pay well. Once you were known as a thief, it became too hard to dispose of the loot unless it was in perishables, and you don't make a living by stealing perishables. The fences were almost as big of leaches as the guards. And so that tempting offer...

He tightened the cinch on his headband. “You know what? Why not? Sure, I'll do it. Give me back my weapon and I'll be on my way.”

Aiden nodded and glanced at V'kaya. “Give him his whip.”

“I would be pleased to give it to him,” she answered, with a dark emphasis of her own. But she handed the coiled whip to Cason who wrapped it around his forearm. And after establishing a few specific details, Cason walked boldly down into the terminal, leaving the royal party on the roof.

And as soon as he was ought of sight, he moved as quickly as he could, down through the terminal, out to the outside, and using his whip, climbed back up to a point under the balcony. He wanted to hear what they were saying now that he was gone.

“Are you mad, Aiden?” V'kaya was saying. “Why would you employ such... scum... to do your work?”

“Because he has what none of us do--a knowledge of Locopolis, and about thievery,” answered Aiden calmly.

“And now that you've let him go, do you really think he'll show back up? Are you truly that naïve?”

“Perhaps. I can't help but think that someone who would be quick to perjure their word would not be so hesitant to give it. But in any event, I think the bait will be enough to draw him back. And, if not, we're no worse off than we were before.”

“You're probably right about that,” agreed Kendra. “Animals always come back to where there's food. But I still don't understand why you're going to all this trouble. Surely, given enough time the three of us--”

“That's it!” Aiden's voice rose sharply. “Time. Time is the one thing we don't have. Don't you realize where we are? Locopolis is within a day's journey of practically the entire kingdom. If we do not find that ore quickly, we will never find it. And you know what it means if we cannot find it.”

“I hadn't thought of it that way,” Kendra admitted.

“In fact, that's what I want you two to do. I'll stay here and wait for Cason. I want you two to do some sabotage. You can get a working set of flight-gear from the train--and I want you to find some way of keeping any train from entering or leaving Locopolis before noon tomorrow. To hold up the railway longer than that would mean a catastrophe for the whole kingdom, but that should give us enough time to locate the Traveler and its contents. If we don't find it by then, we'll just have to admit that it's not going to be found.”

“I understand,” said V'kaya simply.

“Of course,” added Kendra.

Cason let himself down and coiled his whip back around his arm. It sounded as if Prince Aiden really had been serious about that offer.

Moving quietly and cautiously, he made his way around to the other side of the terminal--to the area where the train from the south had pulled in. He had pulled a few minor jobs here, though usually it wasn't worth the trouble. It was fully dark now. Electric lamps and a couple plasma bulbs lighted the area, but these lights only served to create darker shadows for him to hide in. Not that there was much to see. By now the train itself had been moved on. But that was irrelevant to him. It was here, right here, that the theft had occurred, while Prince Aiden and V'kaya of the Two Blades had been busy being in the middle of a riot.

Funny how that worked out, actually. Had somebody deliberate set that up to get Aiden, V'kaya, and Kendra away from the train while the robbery was committed? Cason didn't see how it would be possible to orchestrate something like that, but he couldn't dismiss the possibility.

If Aiden could have watched Cason work, he would probably not have been very confident. For long minutes, the boy just stood in the shadows, his arms crossed.

It was true that Cason was mainly in this line of work for the money. It wasn't like there were honest jobs just sitting around for him. But it was also true that money was only part of his motivation; and in this particular task, the lure of gold was already waning behind another feeling. He was interested and intrigued by the theft he had been tasked to solve. Robbing the terminal had been easy--or would have been without Kendra's interference--but robbing a train was much harder. Still, it wasn't unheard of. But how on earth did someone steal an entire train car? And perhaps more importantly, why on earth would someone steal an entire train car? He had often seen train cars loaded down with stones from the quarries in the east, and, when Prince Aiden had said that the missing car carried ore, he had imagined one of these. But when he had pressed him for details, he had learned that this wasn't the case. The ore, though apparently valuable (at least to Aiden), had been in a very small quantity--transported in a trunk or chest in an ordinary boxcar. So, here was the problem. The car had been locked, but the lock was nothing special--Aiden had apparently not expected any trouble. So, if anyone wanted to steal the ore, why didn't they just break or pick the lock, open the car, take the ore out, and leave? Why would they bother stealing the whole car?

And as Cason stood there in the shadows, he smiled slowly.

*

It was an hour or later when Cason returned to the terminal. He found Prince Aiden sitting on the balcony, making notations of some kind on the screen of a codex.

“Well, have you found anything?” asked the prince, looking up.

Cason walked up to him slowly, his hands in his pockets. He still wasn't sure he understood this strange man but he felt a lot more confident now that the two women weren't around. “So what was so special about this ore, anyway?”

Aiden seemed a little annoyed by the question, but he answered in a calm and quiet voice. “The rock-that-burns-like-fire; it is a radioactive element found only in the mountains of the wilds.”

“So it's pretty valuable?”

“Only to someone who knows how to use it. Why? Are you thinking of going after it on your own account?”

Cason smiled, a little bitterly. “No way I'd ever pass up the opportunity to make you royal folk pay me for my help. I'm just trying to figure out why someone stole it.”

Aiden shook his head. “They may have just thought it was valuable because they knew I was taking the trouble to bring it back. Or they may have their own plan for harnessing its power. Merely as an energy source, it would surpass anything we have now. In theory, it could make a powerful conventional weapon. So have you found anything?”

Cason smiled with one side of his mouth and folded his arms. “What if I told you that I did know who took it? And what if I told you it was an inside job? That it was someone with authority and power in this town?”

“Ah. So it was Commissioner Sacheverell?”

Cason struggled to maintain his calm, disinterested demeanor. He had worked so hard to figure out the truth and had expected quite a reaction when he released his bombshell--it was disappointing and irritating for Aiden to anticipate him. “So you know it was him all along?”

“No. But I know there was something wrong. There wasn't a single guard out in the plaza today during that riot. There should have been some just as a general rule, and more should have been summoned when the riot started. It seemed as if someone had set that up deliberately, which would mean that there was some kind of corruption in the guard. And then after the riot, the commissioner had new flight-gear issued for V'kaya and I since ours had been destroyed in the riot--and I checked it and found it had been sabotaged.” Aiden sighed. “I really never thought Sacheverell had that much ambition, but with the state of things in the kingdom at the moment, I'm not surprised that someone is attempting this kind of thing--he probably is planning to pull off some kind of coupe and believes that ore can be used as a weapon. ” He shook his head and then looked by at Cason. “Are you sure?”

The boy nodded. “I figured that it had to be an inside job. Only someone with control over the terminal would choose to steal the entire car rather than just steal the ore out of the car. Thought it might be one of the workers at the terminal, but I didn't figure any of them would be able to orchestrate a theft this complete quickly enough. That car had to be stolen the very instant the train came into the station. Train cars aren't usually taken off that quickly. With all the guards in the terminal, somebody would have noticed anything strange--except that there weren't guards in the terminal today or out in the plaza, either--I notice that too. Which means it was someone in the guards orchestrating it all. And as it just so happens, the commish has his own set of tracks leading straight from the terminal to his house.”

Aiden raised his eyebrows. “That I didn't know. Why?”

“There's a mine out there and they had a line to bring ore into town; his house used to belong to the people who owned the mine. Nothing's mined out there now, but they never tore up the train tracks.”

“So you're positive that's what happened to the Traveler?”

Cason hesitated just a moment. “Not positive. But I am positive that some train car was taken up those tracks, and recently. And someone prepared for it--you can tell by looking at how the brush was cut back from the tracks. I know that a car was taken up there in that last few days--and no car has any reason to go up that way.”

“And yet you don't have the ore.”

Cason smiled. In reality, he was rather irritated by the situation. He would have loved to come lounging back and place the stolen ore right in front of Aiden--proving that he could do it and do it quicker than the prince supposed. But the truth was that he couldn't do it--not that way, anyway. But he had no intention of letting Aiden have the satisfaction of knowing how annoyed he was by the situation. “See, there's a problem. I'm a master thief--not a miracle worker. And getting that ore back would take a miracle worker. Not that it'd be so hard to break into the place. I actually know a way to do that easily enough. But it's a huge house and the commish has guards all over it. There are hundreds of places he could hide it and it would take days to search everywhere. And there's no way even I could do that without getting caught.”

“I suppose we have enough probable cause that I could exercise a royal prerogative or two to get in,” said Aiden slowly.

“How are you going to find if you do get in? And what if the commish just straight up refuses to let you in? I mean, sure you're royalty, but he has all the guards in Locopolis under him. You don't have any soldiers with you, do you?”

Aiden shook his head. “No. Not until Kendra and V'kaya get back. If it came to it, I could probably fight my way in alone. But that wouldn't be a very effective method and they might be able to get the ore out and hide it somewhere before I could get through the guards. Besides, I don't really like that plan.” He paused for a moment and then shot a keen glance at Cason. “So do you have any better ideas?”

“Yeah, but I don't think you're going to like it either.”

“So what is it?”

“We're going to steal it.”

“But you said--”

“I said I couldn't do it. That's why I came back--because you're going to help me.”

Aiden seemed more intrigued than surprised by the idea. But he asked, “Don't you have any more--suitably trained--allies you could call in?”

“Not for a job like this. 'Sides, I've got a plan. See, the problem is that we have no idea where the commish will have the swag stashed away. And we don't have time to case the place and find out. So we'll take a shortcut.” Cason crossed his arms. “What I mean is this. You've got every right to show up at his place as a guest. I'm sure you could come up with some plausible excuse that wouldn't get him suspicious. Get in there and plant some kind of smoke bomb--you can figure out how to set one of those up, can't you? I'd rather just torch the place, but that's riskier.”

“No, simulating the experience would be better and would be relatively simple. So your plan is to make him think his house is burning down which will cause him to try to get out his valuables--including the stolen the ore--correct?”

“You've got it.”

“Hmm. It's a little unconventional, but I don't see that we have any other options. All right, Cason. Let me just change into some less conspicuous clothes and we'll get started.”

About ten minutes later, Aiden and Cason met at the entry to the terminal. Aiden had discarded the armor of a soldier and wore a plain black suit and a hood. In the suit, he looked all the more like a scholar rather than a soldier, Cason thought. Anyway, there was definitely no danger that anybody who didn't know him would ever suspect that he was royalty. There was no point in attracting undue attention before they got to the commissioner's house. The only thing about Aiden that would attract undue attention was the glaive which he still carried in a holder on his back. “You really always walk around with that thing?” asked Cason, motioning to the glaive with his head.

“I prefer not to let this get too far away from me. Besides, it could be useful if we do end up having to take violent measures.”

Cason couldn't disagree with that argument.


Anyway you traveled, the commissioner's house was some way out of town. The train tracks took a rather roundabout route (since the direct route was too uneven to admit the easy transit of trains) and went through the woods outside of town. It would be easy to go that way and avoid detection--even if the commissioner had guards in the wood, it would easy enough to avoid them. But since they weren't trying to sneak in at this point, Cason took the more direct route, through the street of Locopolis and out onto a high and somewhat lonely road which led eastward. They passed a few people as they traveled, but nobody paid much attention to them.

The trip was uneventful, except for one thing. Just as they reached the outskirts of town, Aiden stopped to look at a wall on which someone had scrawled in large, bright letters: “The dragon still flies.”

“It seems like such an odd thing,” he said in a low voice, seeming to speak more to himself than to Cason. But then he glanced at him and asked: “Has there always been sympathy with dragons in Locopolis?”

For an instant, Cason's eyes almost glowed in the dim light with the strength of momentary emotion. “No. I thought that was the one thing we all had in common. But lately--well--you see the kind of thing that's been happening.”

“I suspect we may have Commissioner Sacheverell to thank for this as well, then. It's an extreme strategy, but if he wants to stage a revolution, that's one way to drive a wedge between the common people and the government. I never thought people would buy into this kind of propaganda, but apparently, at least some of them have.”

“Yeah?” Cason put his hands in his pockets as they moved on. “You really have a right to be so high-and-mighty about it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Don't think I don't know the truth about the dragons. You royals created them, didn't you?”

Aiden looked away and his face clouded over. “Yes. Yes, my ancestor, Aiden I, created the dragons.”

“And even with that fancy weapon of yours, you still haven't defeated them all.”

“Not yet. If we had recovered the Dragon Glaive earlier in this conflict, we might have been able to win. But now there are too many to defeat them one-at-a-time. Even with this glaive. That's why I'm trying another plan.”

“Huh.” Cason gave a non-committal grunt and they walked on in silence and didn't stop until they had almost reached the sprawling mansion which belonged to Commissioner Sacheverell. They could see it black against the dim sky, towering above the forest which surrounded it. Cason knew that if they went much farther, they would run into guards, which he didn't want. “I'll wait here,” he explained, glancing over at the prince. “You know what to do, right?”

“Of course. And I'll meet you back here?”

“'Xactly.”

Cason melted into the woods and watched as Aiden vanished around the corner on the road which led up to the house. Moving swiftly and silently, Cason followed alongside him in the woods. He wanted to keep an eye on him as long as he could. It wasn't exactly that he didn't trust Aiden. The man seemed perfectly sincere and earnest. And it was hard to imagine why he would have agreed to such a scheme in the first place if he wasn't really committed to recovering his stolen goods. Still, Cason wasn't used to working with others. His work had always been solo work, and so he felt more comfortable as long as he could see his co-conspirator.

But once Aiden had vanished into the house, there wasn't much for him to do but lounge in the darkness. He did keep an eye on the various guards around the house. Knowing their location and pattern of patrol might come in handy later, though if the plan he had in mind worked, they wouldn't need to worry about the guards. There were a lot of them, though. More so than normal. Which made sense, all things considered.

It was probably half an hour before Prince Aiden re-emerged. As soon as he saw him, Cason moved quickly and quietly back to the point where they had separated--a point outside the vision of the guards.

“Everything set up?” he asked, as he sidled out of the woods to rejoice the prince.

“Yes,” answered Aiden in a low but calm voice. “Sacheverell may suspect that I suspect him but I'll wager he didn't suspect anything more. I told him I need to see some records and while he was busy fetching the necessary codices, I planted the smoke bomb in his study. We have about thirty minutes before it goes off. But that won't do us much good unless we're in a position to watch what he does when it goes off.”

“Don't worry. We'll be able to see. Just follow me.” Cason tightened the cinch on his headband and motioned for the prince to follow him off the path into the woods. He had expected that Aiden would question his direction, but the other silently followed him. It was completely dark now, especially in the woods, but Cason was used to working in the dark. In just a couple of minutes, he had led Aiden through the woods to a low mound of stone which sat seemingly randomly by a steep ridge that ran alongside the forest at this point. Cason glanced around warily--there shouldn't be any guards out this way, but it never hurt to check--and then pulled his whip off his arm. He rubbed his finger once across the handle and then struck a single savage blow to the smooth surface of the rock in front of him. Blue sparks of electricity skittered across the surface of the rock and, the next instant, the whole front of the rock vanished like ice in a furnace, revealing a dark chasm beyond.

Aiden took a step back in surprise. “I was expecting a secret entrance, but nothing like that. An electrically generate forcefield which replicates the appearance of rock?”

“I guess so. Not really sure how it works, just that it does. Come on; we need to get inside before anyone sees us.”

“Right.”

After they had stepped through the entrance it reformed behind them, leaving them in complete darkness. “Can you use that glaive of yours to give us a little light? I didn't bring a candle this time and my whip's running low on juice.”

Aiden didn't say anything in response, but the next moment a harsh red light shattered the darkness, coming from the blade of the prince's glaive. By it, the two of them could see that they were standing in a narrow passageway. It was clearly a manmade passage, if still with some of the roughness of a natural opening. “This'll lead us all the way inside,” Cason explained.

“Naturally.”

Cason was puzzled by the prince's attitude--there was no way he could have known of the existence of this passage and yet he seemed to take it as a matter of course. But there was no point in pressing the point. Without another word, the two of them advanced down the passage which ran straight forward with only a slight incline. In about five minutes, they reached a solid block across the path.

“Just beyond here is the study,” explained Cason in a very low voice, motioning to a small peephole in the wall. He took a quick peep and then let Aiden look. Commissioner Sacheverell was sitting alone in the lavish study, working at a codex. “We still have another twenty minutes or so before the smoke bomb goes off, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then I'm going to charge up.” Cason pulled a scrap of rubber from inside his belt and, using it as a makeshift glove, snapped part back of the wall, revealing a series of wires. Still using the rubber for protection, he unscrewed the handle of his whip and extracted some wires and with an expert twist attached them to the wires in the wall.

“I wondered how you kept that charged,” remarked Aiden, still speaking just above a whisper. “Elemental weapons are not common on the street.”

“Yeah, well, this is a special weapon,” said Cason, looking down at the whip.

“And probably the only thing you own which isn't stolen. At least, I assume it's a family heirloom--isn't it, Cason McGuire?”

It took all the self-command at his possession not to give off a visible start when Aiden said his full name. “How did you--what makes you think--”

“I noticed the initials engraved on the handle of the whip this afternoon. You know, I am as much a scholar as a soldier--and in both professions, you need to do your research. You seemed so knowledgeable about this house so while I was changing, I did a little research. When I found out that this manor formerly belonged to the McGuire family and that they had had a son named Cason, the conclusion was obvious. And that's how you know about this secret passage, of course.”

“Yeah.” Cason stared into the darkness, his eyes hard and cold. “And if you did all that research, then you know what happened to the McGuire family.”

“Yes; I know.”

Cason clenched his fists. Coming here with Aiden might have been a mistake. There were too many memories here and he couldn't afford to let them make him drop his guard with the prince. But he couldn't help the words from coming out. “They were killed. Killed by dragons. In one day, they were all gone. My parents. My brothers. Everyone. They were gone and then the taxes and red tape ate up what little money they'd left. And that's how I ended up living on the street, stealing just to keep alive. This is the only thing I have left.” With a sudden motion and more violence than is advisable when dealing with electricity, he disconnected the whip from its makeshift charger and held it in his hand; its blue electric glow lighting up the hard look in his face. “And that's why I'm glad you're paying me to help you. This kingdom--this world of dragons and death and fire--took everything from me. And now finally maybe I'm going to get some of it back.”

“The dragons have cost us all dearly.”

“Don't look like they've hurt you all that much.”

There was a strange, almost haunted look in Aiden's eyes but he only shrugged. “Perhaps not. But--”

Cason didn't let him finish. With a motion, he silenced him and turned to the peephole. It was too early for the smoke bomb to have gone off but there was some kind of commotion in the commissioner's study.

“What is it?” The nervousness and unease were clear in Commissioner Sacheverel's voice as he addressed to the two guards who had just rushed into the study. “Did you get him?”

“No, sir.” The taller of the two guards saluted awkwardly. “He disappeared. He just vanished. No one saw him leave the grounds but we can't find him anywhere.”

With a single, frustrated motion, Commissioner Sacheverel pounded his fist into the table, crumpling his hat into a shapeless mass. “I knew I should have taken care of him when I had him here in the house.”

“They're talking about you, I think,” remarked Cason carelessly, glancing at Aiden.

“I see this game grows more dangerous,” answered Aiden in a perfectly unmoved voice. “It seems our commissioner friend has more violent intentions than I gave him credit for. He might actually have the gumption to be a real soldier yet.”

The commissioner picked up his hat and tried to knock it back into shape. “If he has given you the slip--that means he knows something's up. And that means we've got to change plans. Omar, you take a dozen of our boys and go straight to the terminal. We can't let Prince Aiden get out of the city. Cedric, get the carriage ready. I've got to move the ore out of here. Meet me out at the lab.”

“Yes, sir.” Both guards saluted and then turned and left the room. Muttering to himself, Commissioner Sacheverel jammed his still crumpled hat back onto his head and stalked out of the room.

Aiden and Cason exchanged glances and then Cason stepped forward and touched a hidden spot on the wall. Really, though he never would have let Aiden knew, he was a little nervous. He had been down through this tunnel plenty of times, but he had never actually opened the hidden door into the study. He had never wanted to risk it being discovered—he had always thought that sooner or later he would try some big robbery here, but he didn't want to be premature. But he wasn't one hundred percent sure the door even still worked. But as he touched the switch, there was a slight crunching sound and one of the bookshelves swung outward and the next instant the two of them were out in the brightly lit study.

“Any idea where this lab of the commissioner is?” asked Aiden, still in a low voice.

“No, but I'm betting it's out back somewhere. Anyway, we should be able to follow him.” Moving swiftly but stealthily, he stepped out into the hallway outside of the study. He was just in time to see Commissioner Sacheverel stepping through a door some distance to his right. That door led out to the courtyard behind the house, he knew. There were a couple guards in the hallway to the left but they were facing away from. Without making a sound to attract their attention, Cason and Aiden moved down the hall and reached the door.

The next moment they were outside. This part of the estate had been changed quite a bit since the days when Cason lived there and he didn't really know his way around. Fortunately, there had been rain earlier in the day and the ground was muddy. Most people wouldn't have been able to make out anything in the mess of muddy tracks and even Cason couldn't tell much. But here and there he saw the telltale sign of the Commissioner's square shoes which told him the general direction they needed to go.

“This must be it,” he said in a low voice, as he crouched outside a squat building set in a rather lonely position in the middle of the courtyard.

“Then the ore should be here. Should we try to rush him?” Aiden was crouching beside Cason.

The boy shook his head. If the commissioner was alone, they would be able to overcome him easily. But he might not be. And he might raise the alarm before they did. And, anyway, those kinds of direct tactics weren't his way of business. “It's dark now.”

“And--?”

“It's going to be darker in a second.” Cason pulled his whip from his arm. Glancing carefully over the surface of the wall, he found what he wanted and then brought his whip down against the wall with a single, solid blow. The lash of the whip met an electric line that ran up the side of the wall. There was a blue flash and a crackle of sparks and the shattering sound of glass as the surge of unexpected power destroyed three or four of the bulbs inside the building. And where a moment before light had seeped out through the cracks of the door, there was now only darkness and the only light came from Cason's whip.

A moment later, accompanied by a fog of muttering, Commissioner Sacheverell stepped out of the lab and glanced around. At least, he tried to glance around. In a single, swift, silent movement, Aiden had tackled him, clamping one hand firmly over his mouth. The commissioner was older and taller than Aiden, but Aiden had the advantage of weight and physical fitness, as well as superior training.

But Cason didn't wait to see the end of the encounter. While the two men wrestled, he glided in the building. This was clearly the commissioner's lab as testified by the strange assortment of scientific apparatus scattered around. There was a large safe on the far end--Cason would have loved to open it and see what was inside--but he wasn't after that today. Instead, the object of his attention was the small trunk sitting on the table in the center of the room. He recognized it from Aiden's description--this was what they were looking for. Fortunately, it was relatively small (though heavy for its size) and he was able to pick it up and carry it under one arm. Giving one more glance around the room, he noted a large empty barrel in the corner.

That would come in handy.

A second later, he was outside, still carrying the case with one arm and dragging the barrel with the other. Aiden, who held the commissioner pinned to the ground, glanced up and seemed to immediately understand what Cason was thinking. He moved sideways and then with a sudden, abrupt movement planted his knee squarely in the middle Sacheverell's stomach, leaving him temporarily gasping for breath. Aiden let go of him and, taking the barrel from Cason, shoved it over the commissioner's head. And then, with a mighty heave, he stood it up, leaving the stunned and hapless commissioner instead with his legs waving dazedly at the sky.

“That gives us just a second,” warned Cason.

“A second's all we need.”

It was actually more like ten seconds before the commissioner was able to disentangle himself from the barrel and get back on his feet. But by that time, Aiden and Cason had already vanished inside the house.

“They'll never think that we came in here,” remarked Aiden in a low voice as they paused just inside the door.

Cason didn't bother replying. He was too busy checking for any guards or servants. There was a clear sound of hubbub coming from the front of the house, but there was no one around where they were. “We don't have time to waste,” he hissed. “Come on.”

Half running, half slinking, they made their way back into the study and the next second had disappeared behind the hidden door (which Cason had left just slightly open to allow their egress).

It was only once they were safely in the tunnel that he allowed himself to breathe freely again. “We did it,” he commented in an impassive voice which showed none of his excitement. He always felt a slight sense of exhilaration when completing a job, no matter how big the haul--it was just the sense of satisfaction and completion; the satisfaction and pride of a job well done. But there was something special and almost cathartic about stealing from Commissioner Sacheverell, about stealing from this house.

Aiden, meanwhile, had dropped to his knees and snapped open the chest. The next instant, it was as if night had turned suddenly to day. The tunnel was filled was a bright, golden light that seemed to dance and pulsate like the flickering of a bonfire.

Cason turned in surprise and glanced down. “So this is what you were after?” he asked, staring at the contents of the box--bricks of solid rock which seemed to burn with a light all their own.

“Yes. The rock-that-burns-like-fire.” Aiden spoke absently and his face had a strange expression. Pulling thick rubber gloves from his pocket, he donned them and began moving the blocks of stone. Cason noted he moved with caution as if he were handling something either fragile or repugnant.

And then, without warning, he snapped the trunk shut and spoke sharply. “Was there any other rock in that lab?”

“Not like that there wasn't,” answered the boy. He wished he could see Aiden's face, but it was now pitch-black in the tunnel, all the more so in contrast to the recent light. But he could tell that something was wrong from Aiden's voice. “Why?”

“There were twelve blocks of ore. But now there's only eleven.”

“Huh. The commish must have taken one out, then. Probably was trying to figure just what it was he had stolen.” Cason crossed his arms. “So for whatever it is you're planning to do with that stone you don't have enough now?”

Aiden paused as if doing some calculations in his head. “No. The eleven we have here should be plenty.”

“Well, then, I guess it doesn't matter.”

“That's not the point.” Aiden had picked up his glaive and by the harsh red glow of its blade, Cason could see the fixed, determined look on his face. “I've got to go back. The other block should be in the lab somewhere.”

“You're crazy.” Cason moved to stand directly in front of him. “We were lucky to get in and out without being caught once. Now the whole place is going to be up on its ears.”

“That's a chance I'm going to have to take.”

“I don't get. I thought you just said you don't need--”

“You don't understand. This was never about getting the ore back for me. I could mine more if I had to.”

“Then--”

“Cason, did you see the way that rock glowed? This ore is extremely radioactive, but it has a unique form of radiation that cannot be blocked or controlled by normal measures. Even with all the precautions I took in the mining, several of Kendra's people got sick and almost died. If Sacheverell doesn't know what he's dealing with--which I'm sure he doesn't--the radiation will kill him and everyone around him; to say nothing of the fact that if he isn't careful how he handles it, it could explode and blow this whole place to pieces.”

“So what? Didn't you hear what he was saying earlier? He's trying to kill you. He already almost killed you in that riot. You don't owe anything to him.”

Aiden shook his head. “What he does is his problem. But what I do in response is mine. We live in a kingdom of dragons, but that doesn't give me the right to be as cruel or heartless as a dragon. The people of Locopolis may have chosen to accept the dragons, but I'm not going to--not going to accept them as allies or as examples. There comes a time when you have to chose to light your own way and stop hiding in the shadows cast by others. I can't help what the commissioner has done or is doing, any more than I can help what my ancestor did in creating this kingdom--but I can choose how I am going to face it. But I don't have time to talk.” He pulled his codex from inside his coat, made a few quick notations, and then tossed it to Cason. “Take this and the ore. If I don't come back, take them to the terminal. I imagine you can keep out of sight there--when V'kaya and Kendra come back, give them this and they'll know what to do. And they'll see about your reward, of course. Now, I'm going.” And grasping his glaive firmly in his hands, Aiden pushed open the secret door.

*

Aiden wished he had taken the time to count the ore before they had left the lab. They had had Sacheverell had a disadvantage before, but now it was going to be tricky. As long as he had the dragon glaive, he wasn't too worried about any attack, but that wouldn't help him find the missing piece of ore. And he didn't want to use the power of the glaive if he didn't have to. There were too many things that could go wrong.

The commissioner's study was empty as entered, but he could hear sounds all through the house. It had only been a few minutes since his attack on the commissioner. Since Sacheverell assumably didn't know about the tunnel, he and his men were probably still trying to figure out where he had gone. Fortunately, the chaos might be to his advantage.

He pushed open the door a crack and glanced out into the hallway. As he looked he saw several guards just in the act of running out one of the doors, leaving the hall empty. Sliding around the door, he made his way down the hall to the door he and Cason had used before. He had no idea where the commissioner would have hidden the stone, but his best bet seemed to be the lab. If it wasn't there... well, he would cross that bridge when he came to it.

However, even getting to the lab would be a problem. As he sidled out into the courtyard, he saw Sacheverell standing in front of the lab, looking somewhat the worse for wear, his hat now crumpled beyond repair. He was standing with one hand on his hip, his other gesticulating angrily, as he addressed a couple of his guards. Fortunately, the courtyard was not well lighted, giving Aiden plenty of shadows to hide in as he moved slowly and silently in the direction of the lab, still keeping his glaive grasped in one hand.

“They can't have gone far, you imbeciles,” Sacheverell was saying, voice becoming shrill and almost juvenile in the force of agitation.

“But how could they have gotten in in the first place?” asked one of the guards, glancing around in puzzlement.

“How should I know? They probably slipped through a hole in your incompetence. But with the way things stand now, we can't let them get away. Prince Aiden knows too much now. We can't let him reach town.”

“You forget that the town will not support him. He has slain a dragon.”

“I don't think we can bet on that yet. People are fickle. Anyway, if he can get to a train, it won't matter what people think. We are in no position to hold off an attack of the entire royal guard.”

While they talked, Aiden had been making his way slowly around the courtyard so that now he was in a position near the lab. As long as the men remained in front of it, there was no way he could get in undetected. So should he forgo caution and take a direct approach? Or should he just wait--he couldn't imagine Sacheverell would remain there much longer. As agitated as he was, Aiden was surprised he managed to stand in one place at all.

But even as he contemplated the question, it was taken out of his hands. As the commissioner and the two guards talked, several more guards entered the courtyard. Two of them were carrying portable plasma globes whose glaring light turned the whole courtyard nearly as bright as day. At the same moment, Sacheverell looked up and his eyes fell directly on Aiden.

“Th--th--” He couldn't even get a word out, but he waved wildly in the prince's direction.

Aiden took a step forward, whirling his glaive around to hold in front of him. “Stay back!” he called out in an authoritative voice. “If you were watching that battle this afternoon, then you know the power of this glaive. I do not think any of you dare to challenge me.”

“You can't take us all,” shouted one of the guards, looking at him with a fierce expression. But he made no move to attack.

“Do you really want to bet on that?” Aiden was nervous--this wasn't the way he wanted things to turn out--but he wasn't about to let them see that. “This glaive holds the power to tear through the bonds of reality itself; to blow this entire city from the face of the earth. I don't think you want to push me.”

Commissioner Sacheverell licked his lips uneasily. But his voice was surprisingly calm when he spoke. “But you will not use that full power.”

“Well, that is one opinion, Sacheverell. And it could be right--but it would be rather awkward for you if it turned out to be wrong. But I am not here for a fight. I only want one thing--the block of ore you took out of the chest. Give me that, and I will leave you in peace.”

The commissioner's guards seemed to be gaining courage. Several them stepped forward and drew their weapons--though still none of them came very close to Aiden. He felt sure that they had seen how he had dispatched a dragon in a single blow that afternoon--and that would be enough to make anyone cautious.

He held his glaive at full length as if preparing to make a strike. “We have little time to parlay, Sacheverell. Where is that ore?”

The commissioner was clearly nervous, but there was something of stubbornness in his eyes. He was on his own ground and he had Aiden outnumbered. And probably he still felt that Aiden wouldn't use the full power of his glaive. “I don't think you are in any position to barter, your highness.” He added the last words in a bitter, somewhat sarcastic voice.

“That ore is worthless to you. You have no idea what it is you have.”

“It is something that you want. That's all I need to know.”

“But do you have any idea--” Aiden broke off with a sudden grunt that would have been a scream if a few octaves higher and then staggered to the ground.

Cason pulled his whip back and held it looped in his hand as he stepped over the prince's body. “That guy talks too much.”

The commissioner took a step back in surprise. “You!”

“'Cason,' not 'you,'” the boy corrected. “But I don't guess that matters. I had a deal with the prince, but from the looks of things, he's not going to be in any position to be making deals, so I thought I'd try you instead.”

“Do you think I'd make a deal with a thief like you?”

“A thief that just saved you from one of the most powerful soldiers in the kingdom? Yeah, I think you would. Especially if you want the rest of that ore back. 'Cause I'm the only one who knows where it is.”

“What do you know about that ore?” asked the Commissioner suspiciously.

“Plenty. It's super-radioactive and pretty volatile. Would make a powerful weapon. If even a block of it caught on fire it could blow up half this city. The prince told me all about it while we were trying to steal it. Now, do you want it back or not?”

“How do I know you really will give it to me?”

Cason shrugged. “Hey, that's your call. If you don't want it, I'm sure I can find a buyer on the black market. But let's make a deal quick if we're going to. I'm not in a mood to fight a dragon.”

“Dragon?” repeated Sacheverell blankly.

“Yeah, of course. Don't you know that extremely radioactive materials attract dragons? With as strong as that stuff is, I'm surprised this place isn't crawling with them already. Now, do we have a deal or not?”

“That depends. What is it you want--”

“Commissioner!” One of the guards grasped the man's arm and pointed towards the house. “Look!”

Everyone turned their head in the direction he pointed. From inside the building, thick smoke was billowing outwards.

“Maybe you've got a dragon already,” remarked Cason, cool as usual. “Or maybe it's just a regular fire. Shorted wire or somethin'.”

Suddenly, Sacheverell's face turned white. “That smoke is coming from the study. That's--that's where the block of ore is--”

Cason took a step back and nearly dropped his whip. “Is that right? If the fire touches that stuff--”

“This whole place will go up!” finished one of the guards.

Commissioner Sacheverell licked his lips again. He seemed to be trying to come up with a course of action, trying to think of the best way of dealing with the crisis. There was probably some way of averting the danger. There was probably something he could do.

And then he made a sound somewhere between a scream and a sob and with one petulant motion threw his hat onto the ground. It hadn't even touched the earth before he was halfway across the courtyard, heading for the front of the house where his carriage was waiting as he had prepared earlier. He was going to make a run for it--try to get out of the blast radius before the explosion. With the commissioner running, none of his guards were going to try to do anything either--instead, they all ran too--some running after the commissioner while others just took off pell-mell in whatever direction they thought best.

In about twenty seconds, the only people left in the courtyard were Cason and Aiden.

“And that,” said Aiden, using his glaive for support to pull himself up to a standing position, “is why a coward can never make a successful conqueror.”

“You OK?” asked Cason glancing at him. “I gave you as little juice as I could, but I had to make it look real.”

“I'm fine. But we need to get inside and get that ore. Even Sacheverell may realize eventually that something is off when no explosion happens.”

“Good thing you rigged that smoke bomb of yours to give off so much smoke--even I'd've been fooled by that if I didn't know better.”

It only took a matter of seconds to find the final block of ore which the commissioner had stuck rather carelessly in a drawer in his desk. In a matter of seconds more, they were both back in the tunnel and Aiden had safely added the ore to the rest in the trunk.

“Fortunately, we have a safe hiding place,” he commented as he finished. “I feel as if Locopolis may not be a safe place for either of us right now.”

“So what you gonna do?”

“We'll wait till tomorrow morning when everything should have calmed down. Then we'll sneak around and meet up with V'kaya and Kendra and commandeer a train. Once we're out of town, I'm not especially worried about anything Sacheverell will do.” He paused for a moment and then added, “By the way, thank-you, Cason. If you hadn't decided to come back and help me, I don't know what would have happened. You really did save the day. And I really didn't expect it--why did you decide to come back?”

Cason wasn't even sure himself. It went entirely against his character to do something like that. Why had he done it? Had it been Prince Aiden's example? He had certainly been impressed to see the lengths he would go to, the risks he would take for the sake of his ideals. Had it been his little speech? Certainly, the last thing Cason ever wanted was to come to accept the dragons like the people of Locopolis. Had it been that comparison? Or was it that he just couldn't bear the idea of Commissioner Sacheverell actually succeeding in his enterprise? He wasn't sure and he wasn't about to tell Aiden if it were any of those things anyway. “Ha, I told you why I'm helping you. It's that reward you promised me. I wasn't about to take the chance of anything happening to you and leaving me to try to collect it from those two crazy women.”

Aiden sighed. “Cason, let me give you a piece of advice. For both of our sakes, never let V'kaya hear you call her a crazy woman. I wouldn't want to be responsible for what would happen next.” He paused and then after a moment added, reflectively, “Kendra, on the other hand, would probably take it as a compliment.”