Hoard

A moment ensued in which Kaln found himself remembering Emeralaphine’s warnings about the dangers of portal magic, and also that his own magical immunity was confined to dragons.

But Pheneraxa knew her friend after all—or at least, knew how far he could be pushed. After a protracted few seconds of ominous glaring, the mage finally raised one hand with two fingers extended.

“Two questions.”

“That’s all?” Pheneraxa asked. “Wow, you must be having an off day.”

“Okay, a thousand questions, but most of them are just rephrased imprecations; two that are pertinent. One: why Shamissar?”

“We need to acquire necessities and supplies for Percy,” the dragon explained. “The old bastard’s hoard and Kaln’s supply chain that you helped set up can cover a lot, but not everything needed to comfortably house a lady.”

“Bullshit, I saw the wards on that cottage. And on that hoard! Just have whatever merchant you’re dealing with send you dresses.”

“They’re in Boisverd, exactly the place we can’t shop. Nobody can know we have Percy.”

“If your bonehead brother abducted her, obviously they know who has her!”

“They probably think I’m dead, is the thing,” Percy interjected. “And…I need it to stay that way.”

“We’ve decided to take responsibility for her rude handling by Vanimax,” Kaln added, “so we are accommodating her request for discretion.”

“So we can’t shop for supplies in Boisverd,” Pheneraxa continued, “or really anywhere in the Evervales, because either Percy would be recognized or one of the rest of us would be by some secret society or state intelligence agency, and they’d be able to put together that we’re keeping her. And apparently, Kaln can’t be in Rhivaak.”

“Izayaroa has visited Rhivkabat since our discussion, so I’m probably no longer wanted for treason,” said Kaln, “but the Nine specifically told me to stay out. They don’t seem to like stray godlings.”

“Treason?” Shadrach raised an eyebrow.

“I was framed.”

“Ah, of course. Figures you wouldn’t have the balls for something like that, Zelekhir.”

“That seems a strange assertion to make about someone who copulates with dragons,” Percy commented.

“Thus,” said Pheneraxa, “we need a city which is a sufficiently prosperous trading hub to offer a good variety of everything Percy might need, far enough from here that no one will recognize her, and cosmopolitan enough that a mixed party such as ours won’t draw any particular notice. I can pass for a dragonborn, and basically nobody alive has even seen a godling. To most people he just looks human, anyway. We settled on Shamissar because Kaln wants to visit the only other dragon-ruled kingdom in the world. But…not the capital, we’d obviously rather not risk encountering Savasmittar himself. We’re thinking Shima Vaat, the port city.”

“But we’re not married to it,” Kaln added, “if you have a better idea.”

“You know I don’t care enough to be that involved,” Shadrach sighed. “Hnf. I’m somewhat surprised to learn you goons actually have reasons for the things you do. I guess it’s no skin off my nose how good the reasons are, except to the extent that you continue to bother me. Which brings me to question two: why me? Seriously, why the hells do you keep coming back here? I understand the standing portal in that ward network, and that was an interesting enough challenge I can’t be too grumpy about it.”

“But you’re trying your best,” Pheneraxa said sweetly, “and that’s what really matters.”

“Shut your flapping maw unless you’re rendering an excellent reason you’re pestering me about this and not Emeralaphine. It’s a simple teleportation! Even that distance is nothing to a mage like her! Go home.”

“Oh, I didn’t think of that,” Percy said, frowning. “Why didn’t we just ask Emeralaphine? She’s got to be a much better mage than him, anyway.”

“Well, see, the thing is,” Kaln explained solemnly, “Emeralaphine doesn’t like to be bothered with mundane tasks like transportation. She’s basically like you, except a lot scarier, and lives with us. Not only do I prefer not to annoy her, I very much prefer not to have her in Shamissar while annoyed. At least I know you aren’t going to do anything to antagonize Savasmittar, you’ll just do everything in your power to make the trip miserable.”

Shadrach sucked in a long, deep breath through his teeth, and let it out in such an explosive burst that his artfully curled bangs were ruffled. “I see. So I suffer these inconveniences because I’m less threatening than an elder dragon. Fair enough. Now I see what I need to work on.”

“Oh, please, you’re much too pretty to be properly threatening,” Pheneraxa snorted.

“I don’t know,” Percy mused, studying Shadrach. “He’s very pretty, but I would assume Emeralaphine must be gorgeous. I haven’t seen her humanoid form in person, but…she looks a lot like you, right?”

Pheneraxa half-twisted her neck to look back at the princess, mouth opening in a stupefied expression.

“Well, aren’t you just adorable,” Shadrach said sourly. “Fine, you’re not aimlessly wasting my time. I guess I’ll grant you the opportunity to show off that bribe you mentioned. I’ll warn you, though, that staff is a hard act to follow.” He folded his arms and scowled imperiously up at them. “Well? Impress me, Zelekhir.”

“Now, I feel a little bad about costing you a nice pair of glasses, so I brought a replacement.” Grinning, Kaln produced the object he’d brought from his bag of holding. He held up the framed lenses where Shadrach could see them; they were pretty small at that distance, but Emeralaphine had assured him a mage of Shadrach’s caliber would be able to recognize their enchantments at a glance. “It’s my understanding that these aren’t unique, like the staff. Just…rare, and something a portal mage would want, but not be able to make.”

Shadrach’s dark eyes fixed on the glasses, and all expression drained from his face. Kaln just held them steady, letting him get a good look. The black lenses were roughly rectangular, except faceted like gemstones, and inlaid around their edges with runic engravings in gold that matched their frames. He hadn’t actually put them on his own face to look through, but just holding them like this, the “lenses” looked perfectly opaque.

“Well,” the portal mage finally said in the bitterest tone Kaln had ever heard, “fuck you. I’ll get my coat.”

Everything in the customs office was in perfect order, because there was absolutely no question that it might ever be otherwise. That was why Madiin had been given this post: it was recognition of his ability to wrest order out of chaos. There was never any shortage of chaos in the customs office, as one never knew what some foreigner might decide to do. Even the well-behaved ones came unfamiliar with Missari law and etiquette. This particular wing, though, was the worst, because this was where all the mages came in.

Before Madiin had taken over, the teleport arrival platform had been practically a military checkpoint, not to mention the single most common source of trouble in the entire customs department. Those who arrived here were mages—portal mages, powerful people who already didn’t much care for being told where they could or could not go, on top of the usual difficulties foreigners brought. Or worse: the kind of wealthy dignitaries who could afford to hire a portal mage. None of them had gracefully accepted being greeted at swordpoint.

Madiin had practically torn the place to its foundations and rebuilt it, from employee training to décor to policy enforcement.

For a man with no magic of his own to come into a post about which the Sovereign’s Mages felt proprietary and issue such sweeping edicts… Well, he had been unpopular at first. But now, there was order. His customs post had the fewest incident reports out of any department, and had contributed to Shamissar and Shima Vaat gaining a reputation as a welcoming hub of magical commerce. Madiin had been recognized by the Sovereign himself, and earned the loyalty of his staff by looking after their needs and making their workplace one of pride and esteem.

The discreet chime rang, and he immediately set down the report he was writing and strode to the security office directly outside his own, which overlooked the platform itself. Order did not just happen; for there to be order, it must be created. Unlike his predecessor, he took pains to personally observe every arrival. This was why he liked to vary his schedule, so that he was sometimes in the office during ungodly hours of the night, such as now.

All was in order here. Stepping up to the window, enchanted to be opaque as stone from the other side, he looked down upon the party of four being greeted by a customs agent who was, as Madiin’s reforms mandated, treating them with all the courtesy afforded to diplomats, while the mage guards remained at attention at their discreet posts in the corners. Distant enough that they would not seem an overt threat to new arrivals, but able to cover every part of the room should spells become needed.

Good. All according to procedure.

This was an ethnically mixed group, he noted. A dragonborn was among them, which was likely to reason for their visit. Shamissar’s policy of welcoming and protecting dragonborn had brought them by the dozens—had brought more than even the Sovereign had expected were alive in the world. This one was not on the docket for today, so the immigration office was likely to have a busy afternoon. Well, that was their department, not his.

“Commissioner,” the overseeing mage exclaimed in alarm.

Madiin projected calm, turning to her. Her alarm was alarming to him; all his people were well-trained, competent, and cool under pressure. But alarm served no one. For there to be order, there must first be calm.

“Is there a problem, Lieutenant?”

She had raised a second enchanted lens to her face, then a third, expression growing more dismayed with each look.

“Sir, we have an anomalous magical being on the platform. That man, the shorter one—I don’t know what he is, I have never seen an aura like that. But that woman—she is not a dragonborn. There’s a dragon on our arrival platform!”

Silence landed on the office like a falling mattress. Pages, guards, and clerks all froze, turning to stare.

“I see.” Madiin made his calm a lifeline for them all, a reminder of just who they were and what was expected of them. “Then she shall be greeted with all appropriate courtesy. You all know your duties.”

At the gentle reminder, everyone flowed back into motion. Faster motion, now, as mages and file clerks alike rushed to prepare contingency measures.

Madiin made for the door as fast as his legs would carry him without sacrificing poise. His people must not see him ruffled, or they would share his panic. For now, his duty was to ensure that their most esteemed surprise guest was met by the highest ranking official present, as suited her stature. That, and relieving the unfortunate arrival attendant down there who had absolutely no idea what he was facing.

This, he feared, was not going to be an orderly kind of day.

Nothing dramatic happened in the seconds it took him to reach the platform. Madiin murmured discreet warnings to the personnel and guards waiting outside the secured area, sending them flying into motion.

He was not able to likewise caution the guards or arrival attendant on the platform, not in front of the visitors, but he had ensured they were all well-trained enough to follow his lead. When he stepped into the chamber, everything was still optimistically orderly—no violence or even breaches of procedure, at least not yet. The dragon and the anomaly were politely listening to his attendant, while the other two—apparently mundane humans, one likely the portal mage who had brought them—conversed behind.

Well, it was more a lecture than a conversation.

“It’s a truth-telling enchantment,” the mage was saying in a loud, ostentatiously bored tone. “They’ll ask some questions, and it’ll reveal if you’re lying. So don’t lie. Also keep your answers simple, as close to ‘yes’ or ‘no’ as you can. If you confuse the damn thing we’ll be here all day, filling out forms. This bloody place loves bureaucracy almost as much as Rhivaak.”

“Questions?” the pale young woman asked nervously. “I thought we were being discreet. Why couldn’t we just teleport in somewhere…else?”

“Because then we’d be detected and arrested,” the mage said with rising annoyance. “The hells do you mean, discreet? Customs agents don’t care about your personal business. I swear, if you goobers are making me an accessory to some kind of crime I’m gonna mix and match your skeletons.”

“No one’s committing any crimes,” the anomalous man said soothingly. “It’s all right, Percy, none of our business will get us in trouble here. Nations have to control their borders, that’s all; they need to know who’s coming in and why. Just answer questions honestly, and don’t confuse the detector with extraneous details.”

“If you say so,” she said dubiously, stepping away from the mage to hide behind the dragon.

“I’m actually looking forward to seeing one of these used,” the anomaly added with a particularly winning smile. “In Rhivkabat we have dedicated mages who do this. I bet using an enchanted device is much more efficient!”

“Never use a gadget to do what a mage should be doing,” the portal mage sneered.

Well, so far so… It could be worse. They weren’t any more rambunctious than the average mixed group, and didn’t seem about to deliberately cause a disturbance. Madiin stepped forward onto the platform, drawing the attention of the visitors and also the attendant. As expected, Amirrad interpreted the silent message of the Commissioner’s presence and adapted smoothly, retreating a step to let Madiin take the fore.

“Welcome, honored guests, to Shima Vaat, and to Shamissar.” He bowed, deeply and formally, to the degree appropriate to greet visiting royalty. “Your presence grants us much esteem. I am Mishin Madiin, the Commissioner of this office. I apologize most humbly that a greater reception was not awaiting you, but your arrival is a most welcome surprise. If you would deign to be attended in our diplomatic lounge, I will of course assure your every comfort whilst more befitting arrangements are made.”

He directed himself chiefly to the dragon; though the exact relationships here weren’t entirely clear, it was always a safe bet that she was the most significant party in this equation, and the rest of them her entourage. Now, she grimaced in annoyance.

Madiin was accustomed to powerful guests showing annoyance at having to follow customs laws, but this one caused him to feel a tiny frisson of animal terror, which he smothered under a blanket of analysis. So she wanted her visit to be discreet; the young woman had mentioned that, as well. It seemed he’d displeased her by recognizing her as a person of importance.

“No, thank you,” she said, downright curtly. “We’d like to be about our business with a minimum of fuss.”

“Of course!” He bowed again. “Then so it shall be. I must beg your indulgence for but a moment longer while the necessary procedures are followed. My apologies for the inconvenience; I shall endeavor to minimize it on your behalf, of course.”

“Be nice,” the man next to her murmured, leaning closer. “The man has a job to do, don’t make it difficult.”

Madiin appreciated the thought, but as the dragon shot her companion a distinctly annoyed look, he rather wished the fellow had kept quiet.

“May we be honored to know whom it is our great pleasure to welcome today?” he asked, as courteously as he could without being outright unctuous. Showing a spine beneath the politeness was vital, he’d found; people accustomed to power needed no encouragement to try to walk all over others.

The dragon drew herself up to her full height, which was not inconsiderable thanks to her taloned feet. “I am Pheneraxa, daughter of Emeralaphine and Atraximos, and I did not come here to be interrogated.”

Madiin was too experienced and too devoted to keeping order to outwardly flinch, but that was as close as he had come in many years. There were no dragons who could be taken lightly, but those… Those were names he had never hoped to hear in connection with his duties.

“Let me make this brief,” Pheneraxa continued imperiously. “We are here to do some shopping and have a meal or two. We do not plan to be in Shamissar for more than a day. We will contribute to your economy, cause no trouble if no trouble is caused to us, and depart. The more inconvenience is laid at my feet, the greater the likelihood I will—”

The man beside her cut her off by slapping the back of her head, hard enough to make her stumble forward.

Feeling his stomach plunge beneath the world’s mantle, Madiin was momentarily utterly certain that everyone in the room—if not the city—was about to die.

“Do not threaten hardworking civil servants doing their jobs,” the anomalous man barked. “What has gotten into you today, Pheneraxa? If you feel the need to be unpleasant, go chew on Shadrach, he can take it. Let me handle this, all right?”

And then, right before Madiin’s eyes, Pheneraxa the daughter of Emeralaphine and Atraximos looked at him with the sullen acquiescence of a rebuked adolescent recognizing the limits of her guardian’s patience, and shuffled backward, muttering something indistinct.

“I am sorry about that,” the man said, stepping forward and neatly guiding Madiin away from the group with him using body language alone, positioning them both with their backs to the others. Now this was a fellow adept at handling difficult personalities. “I know how she comes across, but I’ve never met a dragon who didn’t have an attitude. Pheneraxa is actually rather passive, she just has a sharp tongue.”

“As is of course her privilege,” Madiin said as neutrally as he could manage.

“This is probably a big annoyance to have dropped in your lap without warning,” the anomaly continued, smiling wryly. “I sincerely apologize for all the paperwork you’ve got coming. You know how it is, dealing with people who’re unaccustomed to having to follow anyone else’s rules. I do assure you, all of them are well-behaved and mean no harm, it’s just that a couple of them feel the need to be unreasonably difficult about it.”

“You seem like someone who knows a bit of what it’s like,” Madiin ventured.

“I’ve worked in a government office myself. Pheneraxa was telling the truth: we’re here to spend some money and then leave, probably after just a few hours. I realize you obviously have a need to keep an eye on a situation like this. Is it possible to maintain a discreet watch on our party? I’m fully confident the lot of them will behave as long as they’re not annoyed, but Percy is nervous about being watched and Pheneraxa… Well, even the tiniest dragon has the arrogance of ten kings. As long as they don’t feel loomed over or threatened, everything should be fine.”

Madiin studied his dark eyes and open expression, wondering just what kind of so-called anomaly this man was. This, too, was a familiar experience. Portal mages on their own business were conceited nightmares to deal with, but the wealthy and powerful who merely hired them often traveled with high-ranking attendants whose jobs included smoothing over the ripples they caused. He was well accustomed to working with such kindred spirits.

It must be awfully hard to maintain order on the move, while hand-holding entitled monsters. Madiin could only sympathize.

“That sounds like a most satisfactory arrangement; I will issue the relevant instructions.”

“I greatly appreciate your willingness to accommodate us, Commissioner.”

“It’s the least I can do. Perhaps you would like to hear a few recommendations from a local, of places to dine and shop?”

“Why, that would be absolutely perfect!”

Watching the party leave the customs office, entering the broad plaza which welcomed them properly to Shima Vaat, Madiin did not permit himself to sigh or slump his shoulders. He was surrounded by his personnel, who needed to see that order still prevailed.

The mage lieutenant stepped up beside him at the window.

“The orders have been issued and Silent Service guards will already be shadowing them,” Madiin said aloud; it was not strictly her business to know, but he had found that reassuring his people in volatile situations was more than worth a small breach of protocol. “Report, please.”

“Pheneraxa speaks Amashi naturally; the other three were using translation pendants. The men defaulted to Vhii, while the woman speaks Filvallin. So, two Rhiva and a Valefolk, just as they appear. The portal mage is powerful and carrying multiple high-value artifacts. The other man carries an enchanted sword of upper middling quality, and an extremely potent and sophisticated bag of holding. As far we’ve been able to determine, the girl has no weapons or magical aptitude. With the caveat that practitioners of unknown and powerful specialization may be able to defeat our detection methods, none of them lied or had deceptive intent in any of their communication. It appears they really are just here to play tourist for a few hours. I regret to report that we have not figured out what that guy is. None of the mages I brought in to look at him have ever seen energy like that. He’s obviously some kind of…extra-physical entity. A being of pure magic shaped to resemble flesh…not unlike a dragon, actually.”

“Recommendation?”

“I advise reporting this to the city and Sovereignty mage corps. Have as many diverse specialists as can be found rotate in among the Silent Service to get a look, until someone recognizes what he is. There are unknown and unknowable things out there in the world, but the more eyes we get on him, the more likely he’ll ring a bell with somebody.”

“Sensible. Very good, Lieutenant, send the request on my authority.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I will be stepping out; Secretary Bishaar is in charge until my return. I must notify the Mayor’s office. Assuming this lot were being truthful, they may be gone by the time word reaches him, but…in a case like this, the Sovereign himself must be informed.”

“Yes, sir,” she said grimly.

He hated the thought of bothering the Sovereign over his own job, but Madiin knew his place, and his duty. There was order in Shamissar because Savasmittar willed it so. He would need to be informed that there was another dragon in his domain, in the company of two of Izayaroa’s subjects.

Oh, yes, the Sovereign would be keenly interested in that.