Read Online Dragon Stones by James V. Viscosi - Free Book Online

came to the notched log; then he began counting the panels as he passed, one, two, three.  When he got to fifteen, he stuck his fingers into a recess beneath the stub of a branch, pressed up on a hidden latch, and pulled.  The lower section of log pivoted open and he slipped into the jungle beyond the fence.
    Once out of the village, he patted the yellow bone handle of his long, curved dagger.  He was quite sure that Gelt would confiscate it once he reached the boat—that was why he hadn't brought his good blade—but one simply didn't go into the jungle without one's knife.
    The trail to the cove ran straight and flat through the jungle for some distance before turning sharply to the left and climbing the volcanic ridge that surrounded the lagoon.  By the time he reached the top, pink traces of dawn had begun to spread from the horizon.  Still no breeze in the air; they might have to use the oars in order to reach their destination.  The dragon islands were not visible from here, shrouded as they were by smoke and steam, like a shy girl covering herself in veils.
    Beyond the arms of weathered black stone that protected the tiny harbor lay empty ocean, placid this morning, glittering under the rising sun.  The oarsmen were going to be spending a long, hot day rowing below decks, Ponn thought.  At least he, as the putative navigator, was unlikely to be pressed into that particular service.
    Below, Ponn could see Gelt and his sailors—Enshenneans, he thought, though none he recognized—loading their supplies onto his ship.  It looked like they had even tossed some of his own cargo overboard; debris bobbed in the water near his vessel.  He bit back on his anger, thinking of Prehn.  They held her, and so he had to cooperate.
    His gaze traveled up the beach to the caretaker's hut; he paid a man to live out here and keep an eye on his ship and the cove.  Two thugs stood outside the door of the cottage, arms folded, obviously on sentry duty.  He supposed that meant they hadn't killed poor old Shaumi; or maybe they had, and had put something in his cabin that required guarding.  Prehn, perhaps.
    Four great eagles, tethered to a wooden post driven into the black sand, paced and strutted, their taloned feet leaving little tick marks on the beach.  They stopped their patrolling and stared at him with glossy black eyes as he descended the path and approached the ship.  Gelt hailed him as he approached.  "Good morning, innkeeper!" he called, waving as if they were long-separated friends.
    "Who are these men?" Ponn said, gesturing at the people working on his boat.  "They are not from my village."
    "No, of course they aren't," Gelt said.  "You think I want to sail on a ship full of your friends and cronies?"
    "You don't have enough sailors.  I sail with a crew of ten.  You have half that number."
    "You aren't counting me or my companions."
    "I thought your skills ran more to kidnapping and larceny."
    "You wound me, innkeeper!  My men are experienced seamen.  I have no more desire to be shipwrecked than you do.  Is that a knife I see?"
    "Yes.  You'll want it, I imagine."
    "Clever innkeeper.  Yes, I want it."
    Ponn drew the weapon and turned it around, offering the handle to Gelt.  He made a gesture and one of his lackeys took it, inspecting it as if it were something he might like to buy.  As the man carried it away, Ponn called:  "I'll have that back at the end of the voyage."
    Gelt laughed.  "I hope that wasn't a family heirloom."  Then, cocking his head:  "Do you savages have heirlooms?"
    Ponn ignored the jibe.  "My oldest boy is missing."
    "You do have trouble keeping track of your children, don't you?  If it makes you feel better, we didn't take him."
    "I thought he might have sneaked aboard the boat."
    "Nobody's come on board while we've been here," Gelt said.  "He probably got tired of living in the jungle and ran away."
    "I'd like to go aboard and search for him."
    "I'm afraid not," Gelt said.