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Authors: R.D. Henham

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“My spell used these to track the dragon.” Mysos reached into a pouch at his side, drawing forth three shining objects that Jace thought at first were silver coins. Mysos placed them in Jace’s hands. They were lighter than money—thin and supple, with the texture and resilience of leather, not metal. “These are dragon scales. They were collected at the village, and they belonged to the silver dragon that attacked Angvale. I took them from the ruins of the buildings that were destroyed, where the dragon had scraped herself on the rubble. On that day, five years ago, I cast a spell on these scales to help me find the dragon, but she had passed beyond the scope of my magic. A few days ago, the tracking spell began to work again. Watch.”

The wizard moved one hand through the air above the scales, and a soft white light emanated from them. A pale, greenish smoke rose from the three silver crescents, hovering in the air before drifting directly toward Belen. Jace stepped back and forth, holding the scales in his palm. No matter where he moved them, the smoke continued to drift toward the young woman. “They began to smoke when
she re-entered Solamnia,” Mysos explained. “I simply followed the direction of the magical compass until I arrived here. While she was performing, I walked around the edge of the stage. I’m quite certain the trail leads toward your friend.”

Belen made a soft noise, her attention focused on the scales. “But if I was really a dragon,” she whispered, “wouldn’t I remember?”

“Shock, most likely.” Mysos’s voice was hard again, but not as angry as it had sounded before. “These scales are silver, as was the dragon that shed them. Such dragons, metallic dragons, are creatures of good. For one to perform such a horrible act of vengeance and cruelty is entirely against their character. Nevertheless, this dragon performed a horrible, villainous act. Villagers on the outskirts of town saw the silver dragon sweep through the trees, attack buildings with its claws, and rip the village apart. Only a few escaped with their lives. The rest … were lost.

“I myself saw the cold, snowy traces of a silver dragon’s breath in the wreckage, and the unmistakable marks of dragon claws in the ground. If any other dragon had been in the area that day, those fleeing villagers would have seen it—there would have been some other mark.” Mysos spoke matter-of-factly, arms folded. “There was only one dragon, and the village was destroyed.”

“All … dead?” Belen whispered, her face paling. “Everyone in the village?”

“Destroyed or eaten by the dragon,” Mysos answered. “Only a few who were far away, out in the forest, escaped. They said they saw a silver dragon swooping down over the trees toward the village.”

“That’s no proof at all!” Jace blurted out. “They didn’t actually see the dragon do anything. Even if it was Belen, she could have been there to fight some other evil. Belen, do you remember anything about this village? Anything at all?”

“I’m trying,” she said, squeezing his hand. “There’s nothing but darkness. I can’t remember.” She looked up at him, tears in the corners of her eyes. “I can’t imagine destroying an entire village, killing all those people, even if I had the power to do so. It just doesn’t feel right. I wouldn’t hurt anyone, Jace. If it was me, I must have had a reason. I must have been tricked, or under the power of some evil magic.”

On Worver’s shoulder, the slick-furred gray animal crooned. “There, there, dear,” Worver said, patting Belen’s hand. “I believe you. These charges sound completely ridiculous.” Belen grasped Worver’s hand, and the pudgy man smiled beneath his thick handlebar mustache. “We’re not going to let you go without a fight, my dear girl, I can grant you that.” The ringmaster’s words were brave, but
his eyes flicked to Mysos as if he expected the White Robe to take out a ruler and smack him across the back of his hand for such impudence.

Jace stepped forward. “Master Mysos? Since Belen’s been here, she’s been good to everyone. She helps with chores, goes out of her way to watch the children when other people are rehearsing, and she’s never so much as hurt a fly. You can’t arrest her when she doesn’t remember anything.”

“Oh, can’t I?” Mysos raised a thick eyebrow. “And why not?”

“Because it wouldn’t be fair!” Jace argued. “You can’t have a trial if she can’t remember anything. Belen gets a chance to argue on her own behalf, right? If she can’t justify what happened or find witnesses to prove her story, then it’s just a sham. You said silver dragons don’t do this kind of thing. If someone forced her into it, or faked her attack, then
they’re
the real criminal.”

Mysos pondered this. “Well, the circumstances are highly unusual. But still, I have proof these scales found at the ruined site belong to her. I have witnesses that place her at the village of Angvale on the day it was destroyed, and I have clear signs of a dragon attack on that village. That is enough proof for most judges to convict.”

“Not if she can’t argue her side,” Jace said quietly. “You said you respected my father. Then you must have
known that he had a reputation as an honorable man. I ask you to trust my word as you would have trusted his. Give us a little time to help Belen remember what happened. We won’t run away or hide, but let us look for the truth.” Jace met Mysos’s eyes squarely. He tried not to bite his lip, hoping the White Robe’s dubious look would fade. “The circus isn’t supposed to leave this area for three days. Give me three days to help her remember.”

“And if I do?” The wizard raised a bushy eyebrow.

“Then I promise that I’ll go with you—willingly,” Belen offered. “If I really did what you claim and hurt all those people, then I
should
be judged for it. You won’t have any trouble with me.”

“No, Belen, really, I must insist.” Worver stood up, starting at the idea. “This man means to lock you away—or worse! I can’t allow it, no matter what the cost, my dear. You can’t leave the circus. It’s your home—we’re your family.” The ringmaster paced in front of them, clearly upset.

“Master Worver, it’s the only way.” Belen looked up at him. “You’ve been like a father to me for five years, but you can’t protect me from my past. Someone has to find out what happened. I’m going to go into those woods where I was found, seek out the village, and discover the truth.”

“My goodness, no! Let me ask Hautos to look into it. Find a priest to cast an augury.” The ringmaster floundered,
mustache drooping. “You shouldn’t risk yourself. It’s very dangerous out there in those woods!”

“It has to be me,” Belen said in a very small voice. “It’s my history. If I am a dragon … well, who knows? Remembering that can’t be all bad, can it? And if I can help right this wrong, then it’s worth risking whatever danger is out there. Don’t worry, ringmaster. You’ve been so good to me, giving me a home here in the circus, helping me when I was hurt and lost. I won’t forget that, but I can’t ignore this either, nor let someone else look into it for me. This is something I have to do for myself.”

Worver sank down into an armchair with a groan. His little pet, Tsusu, snatched up a circus program and began to fan him with the edge, making the ringmaster’s curled black mustache quaver. “My poor girl. My poor circus! I’m going to faint. I think I’m going to just drop dead right here in the wagon. Water, please?” Jace quickly poured a glass from a pitcher nearby, and Worver drank it down with a choking sort of gulp. Belen pressed the ringmaster’s hand between hers.

The White Robe watched all of this in surprise. “Well, I must admit, I’m not used to trusting criminals, or letting them go—even temporarily—once I’ve found them. Still, this situation is highly unusual, and silver dragons have never been known to be violent toward innocents.”
He stared down at the woman in silver glitter, his fingers tapping against the sleeve of his robe. He wrinkled his lip and tilted his head in internal debate.

“Very well,” the wizard said at last. “I will remain here with the circus. Should you flee, abandon your purpose, or in any case not turn yourself in on the third day from today, the circus will pay a hefty penalty. I can assure you, the cost will be so many pieces of steel that it will put this circus completely out of business.”

There was a small moan from Worver, who dropped the empty water glass.

“All the performers—the animals—the tents! We’d have to sell everything, let everyone go,” the ringmaster gasped. “We’d be ruined!”

“Don’t worry, Master Worver,” Jace said, his heart leaping even as Ringmaster Worver shrank further into the chair. “We won’t let you down.”

C
HAPTER
T
HREE

hree days?” Cerisse, the juggler, tugged on her long auburn braid as if she might pull herself around in circles. Her face was long and sorrowful, filled with indecision. “Only three days? It will take a day to get to the village and back, so you’ll only have two days to snoop around. What if there’s nothing there?”

“This one must agree.” The purple-robed mesmerist crossed his arms regally. His voice was strange and flowing, the unfamiliar syllables of Jace’s language fumbling on Ebano’s tongue. The mystic spoke only a little bit of Common, mostly restricted to the pat phrases that Worver had made him memorize for his act. Ebano could go on and on about the “movement of the stars” or the “shrouded future,” but when he had to communicate on his own, he was pretty well stumped. He also couldn’t figure out the word “I,” so most of the time he used his own name or just “this one.” Like all the other strange
folk in the circus, Jace just took Ebano in stride. The foreigner was an excellent hypnotist, and that’s what kept the crowds coming in—not his conversational skills. “This one thinks … how you say? … danger.” Ebano’s voice changed, took on the deeper timbre of stagecraft as he intoned one of his rote lines. “I see dark clouds in your future.”

Jace rolled his eyes. “Yes, Ebano, I know. Dark clouds. You’ve said that three times.” Jace continued stuffing bread rolls and a bit of sausage into his travel sack and checked his water skin to be sure it was full. Belen had gone back to her tent to change clothes and pack. Jace shared his wagon with Cerisse and Ebano. They’d followed him back and refused to leave, wringing the story out of him drop by drop. Forced to talk while he packed or lose valuable time, Jace ducked around them while he struggled to remember anything he’d need in the woods. “We have to go. If we don’t, Belen is put on trial without any evidence to prove her innocence.”

“Jace, I’m just saying, how do you know you’ll find anything?” Cerisse ventured, shifting from foot to foot. When Jace glared at her, she stomped one foot and waved her hands to ward him off. “I’m not saying Belen’s guilty! I’m just saying that it’s been five years. What if there’s no evidence left to find? You shouldn’t risk yourself—”

“Belen’s going,” he growled, “so I’m going. We’ll find something.”

Ebano lifted his hand and passed it through the air, pausing to show them a card that had suddenly appeared between his fingers. “Ah.” He muttered rapidly in his strange, chirping tongue. Working to find the words, the tall, thin man fumbled for the lines he used on stage and came up with, “Much danger in your future. Dark clouds.”

“Ebano, I know. I know how to fight—a little—and for the most part we should be safe. There’s nothing out there, remember? Mysos said the village was abandoned.”

“But what if … I mean … she’s … the village …” Cerisse shook her head, her braid swinging about like a striking serpent. “What if she remembers and it’s not good? The dragon that attacked the village ate the people in it!”

“You think Belen would hurt me? Hurt any of us?” Jace snatched one of his clean shirts and stuffed it in the knapsack. “Not a chance.”

“Ah.” Ebano hummed, brightening. “I have it. Not go alone. This one goes also.” He dropped his voice and intoned dramatically, “The gods have decided.”

“What?” Jace nearly dropped the bag. “You can’t—”

“That’s a good idea, Ebano!” Cerisse brightened. “I’m going too!”

“You … hey!”

“Don’t be jealous, Jace,” Cerisse sniffed. “Belen is our friend as well as yours. She watches my little brothers and sisters while I practice. I wouldn’t be able to juggle seven flaming boatswain pins at once without her help! And Ebano here”—Cerisse thumbed toward the gangly man in his mystic robes—“wouldn’t even be able to speak our language if she hadn’t tutored him. Besides,” Cerisse tossed out, “I can’t stand thinking of you and Belen alone. In the woods. The cold … dark … woods.”

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