Ashklon's Arc

Chapter 3 of 4

Ashklon walked away from the Queen's gates with gold in his pouch and a dead dragon locked inside his containment field. The gold would eventually run out. The dragon was proof of a legend no one knew anything about yet. He was a swift and powerful mercenary. But he did not know a single person who handed out mercenary contracts. He followed a trade road to the only place that might hold answers. The infrastructure rose out of the plain like a mountain of metal. Its armored walls caught the sun. Glowing seams ran up its towers in blue and purple lines. Guns jutted from every ledge. This was where royalty, government officials, and the wealthy came to find able soldiers, warriors, agents, and mercenaries for hire. If anyone brokered contracts, he’d find them here. At the great door, two guards blocked him. One raised a hand. "No weapons past the gate. And we don’t cater to beggars." "I'm no beggar," Ashklon said. "I saved a Queen and killed a dragon." The guard laughed. "Everyone says that they have killed a dragon. Prove it or take a walk." Ashklon stepped back and opened his hands. Power burst out of them. The containment field split the air. The dragon unfolded onto the stone, whole and still, its scales frozen, its jaws wide. The guards stumbled back and drew weapons. People on the walls stopped and stared. A woman came through the gate before anyone spoke. She was small, barely past Ashklon's chest, dressed in deep purple and black leather that shone like a beetle's shell. She walked straight to the dragon and pressed her palm to its scales. Her blue eyes moved over the beast without fear. The guards lowered their blades the moment she arrived. "You brought this through my door," she said. Her voice was flat and sure. "You want work." "I’m seeking lucrative contracts," Ashklon said. "Real ones. Good paying ones.” She circled the body once. She stopped at the ribs, where the stone had been cut away. Her mouth tightened. "You took something from inside it." "I took proof. Yes.” "You put a mark on your back." She looked up at him. "The guardians of these beasts don't forget those that kill the magnificent creatures or a thief. Still. A man who can drop a dragon with one blow is a man I can sell." She named a substantial figure. It was far more than the Queen had paid. Ashklon's chest went tight. This was the thing he had chased since the throne hall. "There's work in the east," she said. "A client who pays in pure gold, not promises. But he wants the job done in six days, and the target isn't a dragon. It's the thing that hunts them." Ashklon understood. She was offering him a contract against a dragon Reaper. Fearful Alien hunters that coveted both dragons and the stone that he carried. "I'll take it," he said. She pressed a special silver token into his hand and smiled without warmth. "Then you work for me now. Put your proof away. Or they’ll find you faster than you'd like."