Dragon (S)Layers Ch. 60

3

A Dream's Fool

"The Deck of Reading is said to be a set of cards meant to divine the future, a gift from a sphinx in service to Alecron. With it, His guidance and teachings are brought forth in ways that impact the person who draws from the deck.

A popular set of cards are the Dream's series; the fool, knight, rook and queen. Each said to represent a different aspect of growth and confidence in one's dream and show successes in the pursuit of that dream.

I have one of these decks and despite many decades of pulling from it, I've never drawn a Dream's series card; call me cynical, but I get the feeling this is just an elaborate game of poker given a different theme.

That's certainly how they're used in my casino."

Aee

"Ledgers and Largess: Memories of a Sphinx"

~Sarah~

It'd been a long time.

Sarah adjusted her glasses as they'd fogged up in the cool confines of the brigantine's hull, sweat rolled down her forehead, snaking to the corner of her eye. Stinging. But she didn't blink; she didn't dare. She couldn't afford to miss anything, squinting against the irritation the half-elf traced the lines of the schematic she'd carved into the impromptu table. The lines weren't quite even, shaky like the blade in her hand, yet she clutched the tool tightly prepared to make any corrections, to root out any misunderstandings, any missed churns or lines that were too straight.

The board had served as their makeshift table since leaving Chance's and now the outline of her- of their ship now stared back at her from its uneven face. The drawing was close to perfect but- no. Not perfect. Nothing was ever going to be perfect, the prow had a slight warp where the knife had been sloppy.

Where she had been sloppy.

"Stop," Sarah whispered as she gripped the plank. "Stop, stop, stop." This wasn't a compulsion forced on her by her Cherub or her god. This was a design. This was an illustration of a concept! It didn't need to be perfect! Not yet!

But that was the sick irony, wasn't it? This wasn't just a design, this was a gravestone and a memorial and a memory given physical form. This was as close as she'd ever get to having told the world about what'd happened. . . .about showing them. Sarah wiped her forehead. This was the thing that proved those before the ship had existed at all, that there'd even been a time before the accident.

"Stop this," Sarah loosed her white knuckle grip on the wood and tossed the blade down beside the scrapings. It was time to plead her case. It was time to show them that she wasn't completely out of her mind in pursuing this. She hauled herself up to stand, stretching her lower back against the agony of being doubled over. She paced listlessly from stem to stern, eying the plank and the pile of crappy visual aids she'd cobbled together from what materials they had on hand. She was going to be preaching damnation and death with these tools.

Did she have the right? Was it even right?

Sarah could feel her Cherub lingering in the back of her mind, watching. Judging. Pinging her defenses the way it always did when it wanted to know what she was thinking. They'd been arguing for days about one detail or another, one material choice or the next, at times furious heated arguments, but it was her own fault. The Great Engineer expected results and she'd stupidly baited Him with the best carrot she'd ever made. Like an idiot she'd flicked the rod until it got their attention and then when she had the most to lose and least to gain, opportunity had kicked her square in the face and the gods damned Cherub had seized that carrot for all it was worth.

It'd been Sarah's fault. From the very get go, but that didn't matter any more, did it? If they had the ship, if they could make it fly, if they could find a place away from the dragon's influence then and only then would they truly be free. The dragon's agent that'd found her in Sorash had spent three decades tracking her across the continent. She'd gone out of her way to overthrow the city's nobility and criminal elements alike while Sarah hid in her dark little corners. She'd overthrown an entire city state without war in the streets, but that wasn't enough. . .

That was how these things went; you didn't 'win' with a dragon or its agents. You watched while it tore down everything you held dear and then and only then maybe would you be allowed to die a slow and painful death at the hands of those you considered allies.

Immortals were a patient lot, most of them with agendas beyond comprehension- it was time Sarah improved her deficit in that area. She eased up to the design sketch, looking at it one last time trying to ignore the smudges on her glasses for the moment. This wasn't just a memorial, this was her last chance at escaping.

She started with a drag cloth through the hole in the floor and dumped her materials on it, dragging them out while her companions looked on from their positions around the camp fire. There was a certain wariness, a kind of unease that said they weren't sure what to make of her or the situation at hand. Even Keiter somehow managed to convey a particular kind of discomfort that she'd seldom seen in him.

The fire lit their expressions one and all with wild flickers and vaguely menacing shadows. Keiter's dusty scales conveyed it the worst, the little kobold was huddled up near the fire with a blanket wrapped around him like a burial shroud- these weren't her companions so much as a tribunal of the soon to be dead.

Did they even realize?

Sarah got to her feet, already dropping into her familiar persona. "I dare say we've certainly covered some ground." In truth she had no idea how far they'd gotten since leaving the last village. Nobody looked ready to take the bait. A different tact, then: "Come now, we've surely put a lot of distance between ourselves an the bounty hunters, forsooth we should be celebrating!"

Not even a peep. Just three sets of eyes lingering on her like she was some oddity.

"Do I have something on my face?" Sarah touched her cheek in mock surprise. "Not a particularly new look for me, but-"

It was Keiter who broke the silence. "We worry about you, my friend."

"I'm quite fine!"

Caldion and Tessarie shared a glance. The olive skinned elf shifted uneasily before she rose and trudged over, enfolding Sarah in a hug. Not that Sarah minded, she returned the gesture and pulled the girl close for the moment, letting it linger until eventually the dancer pulled back, looking up.

"I know Sorash was hard," she whispered, "But we're here if you want to talk."

"I. . ." What the hell were they on about? "Thank you, but I'm quite fine." After disentangling herself Sarah drew a breath, glancing from face to face as if she could discern some meaning from the furtive gazes. Something had changed in the last few days, but once again she'd been too buried in her gods damned work to see the shift.

Another deficit she'd have to fix.

Sarah knew she should've allayed their fears, she should've spent time figuring things out and reassuring them that everything was fine, but there would be time for that later. They needed to agree on a course of action before they got to the next major caravanserai and the trade routes opened into the Nine Corridors to the west. Time was short and her nerve was failing her by the moment. Sarah took a deep breath, avoiding the siren's call of dinner she went about digging out her materials and setting them up.

The three of them watched her skeptically lay out the board with the ship's design on it, the concentric spiral and the ribbon of flimsy copper she'd 'liberated' from the last store. It wasn't like they even understood what the metal was, much less what strips of it were useful for. Armed with her props, she went to work:

"If I could have your attention for a moment?" Nobody's gaze shifted in the slightest. She could do this. She'd sold bullshit to kings and dragons alike, why did being honest have to be any different? "You rightfully questioned when I said that this ship was capable of incredible feats! You met Chance who's father saw my design and tried to emulate it. . . .here it is." She stepped aside, motioning to the board. "A ship capable of flight!"

They adjusted themselves in their respective seats, quiet but dubious, like they were waiting for some grand punchline to be delivered. When it wasn't, they started to come to the realization that she might be serious.

Seriously out of her mind, anyway.

"Thirty six years ago, I took a sloop's design principles and miniaturized it- the ship was three quarters as large as this without nearly as much room in the hold!" She pointed to one of the two spherical constructs on the deck of her ship's design. "Put simply, two containment devices empower a series of fans along the central axis of the ship, the fans spin fast enough to provide thrust and-"

"Sarah. . ." Caldion calmly interrupted her.

"Bear with me, this may take some explanation-"

"Sarah," he repeated. "What does this have to do with us getting to the Veil."

"The Veil? Why would we go to the Veil?" Dammit she was already getting off track. She pressed her thumbnail into her palm. "Keep focused." How bloody silly were these people? Interrupting her like this, as if she didn't know what she was doing? The nerve. But then numbers didn't argue with her the way people did, even her Cherub had a certain deference. She'd somehow lost that thread among the calculations. She tiredly wiped her hair back out of her eyes and regarded the group over her glasses.

When Caldion looked about to speak again, she spoke up in a low and controlled tone- enough to force people to pay attention to hear her. "Going to the Veil would be an incredibly short sighted decision."

"I have family there," Tess said.

Caldion nodded to the elf. "We've been discussing it- it's our best bet for getting off the road. From there we can plan and pull together some support from the nobility."

When Sarah looked to Keiter his muzzle was focused on her but his gaze was lingering on the others skeptically. He knew what the elves would do to him if they got a whiff of his existence at all, much less his divine link to a human god.

Sarah knew too. All too well. "And what do you think is going to happen if you went there, hm?" She removed her glasses to accent her point and appear just that little bit more vulnerable. Not something she enjoyed, but she'd damn well use it to her advantage if she could. "I don't know if you've looked in the mirror recently, young man, but your ears are a bit low and round. . . .and unless you plan on soaking up a lot of sun in the time it takes to get there, you're a bit too pale to be inconspicuous!"

Tess chuckled a little. "Pot and kettle, Sarah."

"My pallor comes from a life spent working for a living like a sensible person, I dare say he could learn a thing or two!"

Keiter clicked his tongue in that way he did when he was irritated. "He works plenty. We eat because of him."

"You're right, that was unfair." Sarah held up her hands and took a quick inventory of the arguments she already knew she'd have to make. She started small. "But the Veil isn't terribly welcoming of human men- or kobold clerics of any faith, much less Isira."

Tess bit into her lower lip, glancing between the two. "My family would patron them."

"My father has links to an old trading company that supplied the elves with precious gems," Caldion said almost sheepishly. "I think I can at least keep myself from getting arrested for attempting to 'infiltrate' them or something."

Precious gems? Him? Sarah wanted to balk. "That still doesn't answer the question of what they would do to Keiter, hm? I think you and I both know exactly how that would go, dear Tess."

"Isira's faith is popular-"

"With human women in the Veil, dear." Sarah cut her off. "Let's not pretend for a second the exchange is entirely equitable. A cleric of Hers is going to be very unpopular once they learn the real truth about how those teachings are perverted!"

Keiter looked to Tess as the girl fumbled for words.

Caldion saw right through what she was doing, though: "Sarah, stop. I thought we agreed to be honest around each other-"

"I'm being very sincere, thank you. Families there keep human women in luxury, but let's not kid ourselves that their purpose is in any way benign. Where I'm from you would call that indentured servitude by any stripe! I dare say it's one of the greatest tragedies of any thinking creature-"

"Sarah-" Tess started.

"Where is the education, where is the cultural awareness? They are kept for breeding and little else."

To Sarah's absolute surprise, though, the lithe elf held her ground. "They're treated like royalty, they never want for anything and neither do their loved children. Don't you dare paint my people in such a manner!"

Neither of them gave any ground to the uncomfortable silence that followed, Tess held firm and resolute while the other three stared at this new person she'd become in a few words. Sarah almost wanted to smile at the display. She'd been taking after Keiter's form of teaching, it seemed- pride in oneself and one's place in the world. . .

Gods, bloody, dammit why did it have to be now that she'd grow a spine?

Sarah cleaned her glasses and gather her thoughts. "You are no more a reflection of your people than I of mine or these two of theirs- we're uncommon because we can approach situations differently. Or am I wrong in assuming that poise hiding so much strength is a trait you've picked up since leaving the Crimson Desire?"

Tess's mouth opened in quiet fury.

"Got you."

Sarah resettled her glasses with one hand, holding up the other to deflect the storm that was due to slam into her. She could already feel the magic swirling around the girl unconsciously, hazy and looking for someone to wrap around and strangle to sleep. "They have no future in the Veil. You and I both know that, and sooner or later that dragon's agent is going to find out where we were- do we really want to bring that kind of hell down on the people you care so much for?"

In a split second Keiter and Caldion were both speaking over each other trying to lay out sound and good reasons they needed to get into the Veil's borders, she carried a quiet forlorn hope in every breath, as if she somehow knew she was traveling with lesser people- like her ideals were somehow sacred and untouchable.

Caldion at least knew better.

On the other hand, Keiter knew better than to let anyone let their ideals get them all killed- he stood slowly and threw his hood back. "We need to work on thisss." his lisp carried the sudden flicker of anger in his beady eyes. Even when they focused on Sarah there was no kindness and warmth, but a solemn understanding. "She's right." He rallied. "They'll kill me and enslave him, and we don't know that the dragon's agent did not come from there."

"W-" Sarah started but the little kobold wasn't done.

"She came from the west! From Sarah's home city, she corrupted Sorasssh and gods know how many other places along the way." He edged around the fire looking between the three. "We cannot even tell how many for sure are working against her. . . .how can we possibly expect our safety there? Or theirs?"

Caldion glanced away briefly. "I don't see any other ideas."

Sarah pounced. "I have one. . . .but it seems that somewhere in my absence the three of you have picked up this notion of my having gone fey crazy. Farthest from the truth, may I add!"

"You talk to yourself. A lot."

"Shout," Keiter supplied. "You shout too."

Damned Cherub. Sarah pinched the bridge of her nose. "Allow me to present my idea, then we can ruminate on the likelihood of our inevitable demise? You've nothing to lose but your time!"

Tess sloughed her hair back, letting out a frustrated sigh. "How can we possibly trust you?"

"Young lady, many have said those words and none have been let down by my ability to turn those utterances inside out by seeing to the safety and warmth of those very detractors. After all, was it not I who got us out of Sorash and you out of that gods damned brothel?" The girl recoiled slightly, bristled. Sarah made sure to cut her off before she could speak again. "It wasn't your fault you were there and nobody is looking down on forced slavery- least of all me- but I think I've proven my loyalties to all of you. . .

"So I'll hear no talk of how duplicitous my tongue may be! We're assuredly on the same side here! You want to survive as much as I, and whatever brief insecurities we might feel in pursuing our own best interests in that regard, we stand our best chance working together." Sarah punctuated her statement with a smile even she didn't believe in. "We're flawed people, that's fine and let it be so! But we're complicit in this endeavor."

Silence answered her.

Silence and skepticism.

Fine enough. Sarah braced herself and picked up the design sketch she'd made of the ship. "Allow me to start again: Thirty six years ago I used a miniaturized sloop to prototype an idea- to craft a ship that could fly." She let that hang in the air for a moment before continuing. "Through mechanical power it was able to produce enough thrust to stay airborne- in Estan there were similar small devices used to figure out weather patterns, but these devices are tethered to the ground and don't move very fast. . .

"My ship was free and unfettered. As fast as any sea bird, but it could go anywhere- now." She set the board down closer to the group, crouching to indicate the parts as she went. "It worked with two primary reactors- by feeding air into it, it turns blades within the central axis of the ship where it's heated up by the reactors and spewed out through the ports on each side. From this you get thrust!" Sarah looked to her companions, holding her hand out flat and raising and lowering it. "With proper ducting you can channel it to move forward- back- side to side or even turn in place."

More silence. The three looked at her as if she'd well and truly lost her mind. Sarah pushed her glasses up slightly and gave them her most benign smile. "It works on the principle of heat dynamics- heat rises, it's quite simple actually!"

Caldion sat forward, hands clasped and his expression almost sympathetic in that sort of way one would talk to a toddler who'd spilled their dinner. "What happened to the sloop?"

Sarah closed her eyes for a moment- the image of the crash was waiting there as it always was. In a rare flicker of honest, she looked him right in the eye. "I can't talk about that."

"Why not?" Tess prodded. "Did you sell it to-"

"Young lady, I respect you enough to care for you as though you were my own child, but do not for an instant think I'm above being petty."

"We know you aren't!"

"Hmph."

Keiter saved the situation, though when he wandered over to Sarah's side. "Most clerics are forbidden from speaking of how they came to Serve. Isira's the only deity who allows it. . ."

Tess and Caldion both leaned back, sharing a glance, but it was Tess who asked the most logical follow up. "So did it crash?"

Sarah went to nod but her muscles locked tightly and in the deepest parts of her awareness she felt her Cherub wrap tight around her defenses. For sheer spite and anger, Sarah twitched her right eye hoping to convey some meaning. To hell with the rules. To hell with the Cherb. Nobody silenced her, dammit.