The Dragon Princes Guard

Elior was fuming, smoke basically billowing out of his ears like the dragons the palace kept as pets. If he’d had it with him his cane would already be swinging at all of our heads. Luckily the thick wooden stick had been left in the kitchen when the commotion broke out in the dining area. “What the hell happened?” He demanded eyeing Davin and I like we were children who’d broken a rule. Which, I supposed, we were. “We took care of a problem.” I huffed and motioned to the unconscious bodies strewn over tables, chairs, and one who was dangling upside down from a support beam. How he’d ended up there I couldn’t say. “Look at Davin, look what they did to his face! You know he can’t afford to get any uglier.” Davin sent me a murderous glare the heel of his hand pressed firmly at the wound on his head to stem the blood flow. “They started throwing s**t around when she called one of them a pansy.” He grumbled. “I called him a pussy.” I corrected with a scoff. “Why.” Elior pinched the bridge of his nose with exasperation. Then he shook his head, “Never mind. Maya!” He shouted and out she scurried from the kitchen holding a cane in one hand and a broom in the other. “You two clean this s**t up.” He pointed at Davin and her. “And you—” His cane thumped as he set it down leaning some of his weight onto it as he glared at me. “Follow me.” # I spat blood into the pavement running the back of my hand over my mouth to clean up any remnants. Elior puffed smoke into the cool air between us the medicinal herbs mingling in my nose in a scent I was now familiar with, it clung to his clothes like a second skin. “Do I have to beat some sense into you?” He demanded leaving his cane beside the door that led back into the bar. The alley was dimly lit, our only company the yowls of a mangy stray. It would be a few more hours before we’d see another soul head this way. He stepped towards me and I fought the instinct to shrink back. If there was one thing he hated more than getting disobedience it was any sign of weakness. As his apprentice I knew first hand. “They owed me money from a bad game a few days ago.” I ached to have my familiar knife back in my hand but the little dagger was pinned on one of the walls inside from the scuffle. “Said they’d give it if I did a dance for them.” I sniffed. “So, I danced.” Elior dragged a hand down his face. “The palace is crawling with government officials from every corner of the kingdom. Security has been ramped up, and now they’ve started patrolling the pleasure district.” He repeated the same warning he’d given us us a week ago. “We need to be careful.” “They’re not dead.” I huffed crossing my arms to keep from tapping the leather wrapped around my thigh. “That’s besides the point and you know it.” Silence filled the air and I knew he was counting down in his head to keep from fighting me. It was how we’d always dealt with problems. If I misbehaved then I earned favor back by fighting him for it. But since the accident we hadn’t raised our fists to one another. I eyed his bad leg imagining the deep valley left behind from where a chunk of meat had been pulled out the skin sewn back together haphazardly. We hadn’t fought since then, but whether that was because he didn’t trust his bad leg or I didn’t want to hurt him was anyones guess. We never discussed it. Just continued on pretending nothing had changed. “We can’t afford any unwanted attention,” he ground taking another long drag of his cigar. “Get a handle on those impulses.” He’d said the same thing a million times before. I was too impulsive, didn’t think before I stabbed. But if that were true we’d have bodies in the bar not just unconscious morons. “Yes sir.” I huffed. He let out a heavy sigh dark eyes pinning me, “Your grounded tonight. Stay in your room.” “But-“ “We’ll manage one night.” He cut me off with the tone he reserved for when he really wasn’t in the mood to argue. “Take tonight to clear your head.” Smoke billowed around us, “Its for your own good.” I hated those words. They were usually the last thing someone said before making a decision I had no intention to agree with. # I punched my pillow. Once. Twice. Three times. Carefully of course. I was down to my last one and Maya had threatened not to get me any others if I couldn’t take care of the ones I had. Being practically banished sat like an uncomfortable stone in my stomach. I wanted to march downstairs and pick a fight, if only to prove Elior couldn’t keep me locked away like some misbehaving child. Unfortunately, doing so would only prove him right. I ground my teeth and landed another punch. There was a light knock before my door was pushed open. The eagle eyed stare of the youngest ward in Elior’s troupe met mine as Vidalia stepped inside clutching a bundle of knives. She crossed the room and hopped onto my bed, holding the blades out for inspection. “I washed them for you. Like you showed me,” she announced proudly. I grinned , ruffling her hair as I took them, “Thanks kid.” She nearly growled swatting my hand away before hurriedly smoothing down her disheveled hair. Vidalia had been picked up by Elior when she was too young to fend for herself, much like I had. The difference was that she had me looking out for her. Beyond Elior I had no one. “Davin said you almost took out his eye.” “Me? No it was one of those guys.” The corner of my mouth twitched. So okay maybe I’d gotten in some dirty blows to the behemoth of a man but I still owed him for last night when he’d dumped an entire bucket of kitchen mop water over my pants. On purpose. Besides if Davin had issues dodging my attacks while simultaneously turning another man into a pretzel, then he was getting sloppy with his training and I’d be snitching to Elior. I bumped her shoulder with mine lightly, “Shouldn’t you be in bed.” She rolled her eyes, “No.” “Vidalia.” “It’s not fair, I’m old enough to help now. But Elior won’t even let me sweep the bar.” She frowned and then turned an expectant look towards me. “How old were you when he took you out on your first job?” I didn’t have to think about it but still I made a show of tapping my dagger before sliding it back into it’s sheath. “You know what, I can’t recall.” “Zero!” She groaned and I laughed. “We’ve talked about this Elior will let you know when you’re ready.” I ruffled her hair earning another disgruntled noise. “But I’m ready now!” In a lot of ways Vidalia reminded me a lot of myself. Her eagerness to prove she was useful mirrored my own when I’d been younger. The difference was that I’d never been given much of a choice. The universe had dealt me a rotten hand, and I’d learn to deal. Vidalia had a different path laid out before her. I could understand why Elior hesitated so much with bringing her out. Even if he hadn’t once slacked in her training. “I heard Elior’s planning on making you clean a pigpen if you’re late tomorrow.” I told her. “Better get to bed before you find out how hard it is to get that smell off your skin.” She shot off the mattress with a horrified squeak, shouting goodnight as she botled toward her room. I grinned after her. Children were so easy to spook. With my knives secured I crossed to the window and climbed out. My fingers caught the edge of the roof and I hauled myself up until I could swing a leg onto the roof. The soft blanket of twilight stretched over the city, painting the rooftops in shades of violent and gold. Below, the bar roared with its usual assortment of drunken laughter, shouted insults, and clattering glasses. Home, sweet home. I settled onto the roof and tapped my dagger with restless fingers. Since the accident, Elior has grown cautious of everything. Every single job had to be studied under a lense, every risk measured twice, and every decision dragged through every scrutiny. It was as suffocating as it was aggravating. Trust me I understood, and it’s not like the danger of the current climate was lost on me. But I was used to living life on the edge. This was torture. There could be nothing worse than sitting still when something was happening. Information was moving through the city, people were coming and going, and I was supposed to sit in my room and think about my behavior. Ridiculous. A familiar burst of laughter rose from the street below. I leaned forward, peering over the edge of the roof to the narrow alley behind the bar. The entrance was partially obscured by stacked crates and the sagging awning of the neighboring building. Then something moved in the shadows. I stilled. Too tall to be an animal and to limber to be a man. A woman lingered near the far wall, half-hidden in the darkness, her face obscured by the hood of her cloak. Curiously she wasn’t looking toward the street. She was watching the back entrance of the bar. My fingers closed around the hilt of my dagger. The woman shifted, just enough for moonlight to catch the side of her face. She glanced up the alley as if looking for witnesses. I sank lower against the roof tiles. Interesting. Elior could ground me all he wanted. He could lecture me until his cigard burned through the filter and his face turned gray. But if someone was lurking outside our back door, I wasn’t about to sit around and pretend I hadn’t seen her. I watched her for a beat longer, her attention back on the bar. Quietly I wondered what, exactly, she wanted.