“We’re capturing this creature, and we’re bringing it back to Mirabay with us.” It might have been taking a risk, but the reward? The prestige of possessing a captured dragon would far outweigh any power that silly little cup could give him. Magic had too many limitations—far more than her father seemed to realise. Reputation didn’t.
She wanted it, but it was a big task and they had to move fast. Who knew when the creature might awaken? They’d all be in serious trouble if it wasn’t constrained by then.
“You go with them,” she said, pointing at Hangdog. After the way she’d shut him down when he’d tried to tell her his name, she didn’t want to have to ask it now. “Do whatever it takes to speed the process up. I don’t know how long it takes to make a cage, but I want one here tomorrow. Understand? Magic, manpower. Whatever. It. Takes.”
He looked at her with an expression of disdain. Clearly her time frame was unrealistic, but that was why she was sending him. During her time at the Priory, she’d seen impressive feats that would have taken a team of people days to complete, carried out in only a few hours. That was what she needed from Hangdog and the village’s smith.
“A wagon also,” she said. “The biggest one you can find, and a team of oxen to haul it.” She moved around to the dragon’s side and wondered if she was biting off more than she could chew. It was large, but it was far smaller than the other one she had seen. The wagon would still need to be big, though, to support the weight of the cage as well as the creature. As she thought on it, they might need more than one.
“Tresonne, judge for yourself if we’ll need more than one wagon and team to move it when you see the finished cage. It’ll be best to assemble the cage around it, so have the smith make it in parts that we can assemble here. Bring him back with you to finish the work. Also a team of men with blocks, tackle, and line, and struts to get the whole thing out of here.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Tresonne said. “I’ll rustle up as much help as I can. Better to have more than we need than not enough.”
She was fast coming to appreciate Tresonne. He didn’t say much, but when he did, he was worth listening to. The academics had huddled and were watching the exchange.
“Have you completed your task?” she said.
One of them shook his head.
“Then I suggest you get back to it. Tresonne, as fast as you can, please.”
“Ma’am.”
She turned her attention back to the sleeping dragon as Tresonne and Hangdog left the chamber. This wasn’t going to be easy. Then again, the things worth doing never were.
PART TWO
CHAPTER 16
Ysabeau didn’t sleep, and barely took her eyes off the dragon for a day, a night, and another day, as she waited for Tresonne and Hangdog to get back. Magic kept her alert and functioning, but there was only so long she could burn that particular flame before she paid the price. With luck, she’d be long gone before it came to that.
The academics worked industriously, making sketches, taking rubbings, and copying inscriptions. They had decided their time in the temple was best spent acquiring as much information as they could. They could take the time to study and interpret it when they were back in the comfort of their university buildings. She reckoned it was the right decision—it was always best to make hay when the sun shone. You never knew when the clouds would close in. Nonetheless, she was intrigued—what secrets were hidden in those indecipherable-to-her carvings?
She felt sorry for the scholars when they chattered excitedly about the books they would write about their discoveries. Each expected his name to go down in academic history. Solène suspected none of the knowledge discovered in this chamber would get far beyond her father’s office, and there was a distinct chance these three men would end up floating down the Vosges when their usefulness had passed. Knowledge had value only so long as it was controlled. When everyone had it, its power was gone. Her father, who knew that well, was not a man to give to others what he could hold on to himself.
Noise at the entrance to the temple came as a huge relief. She had been on edge for a long time now, and her heavy use of magic was making her jittery. She walked up the ramp from the main chamber to the open-topped room that served as the entrance.
Tresonne peered over the edge.
“I think we’ve got everything we need,” he said. “We’ll start lowering it down.”
The cage came down in six sections; bolt clamps around the edges would affix each section to the next. Ysabeau inspected the work, hoping it would be strong enough if the dragon woke up. The bars looked like good-quality steel, and the welds all appeared to be sound to her inexpert eye. It was as much as they could do, but might still count for naught if the dragon was strong enough to smash its way through. It would be best for all involved if it remained in hibernation, but that seemed like too much to hope for.
True to his word, Tresonne had brought help—half the village, it seemed. Ysabeau was ambivalent about letting any of them see what was down here. There was enough gold in the statuary and reliefs to make them all wealthy, and certainly more than enough to tempt even the most honest to theft. There was an easy solution to that, once they had finished their work, but killing most of a village’s able-bodied men seemed excessive, even to her.
There was another solution available, but she wasn’t sure it was wise, considering how much magic she was already using. Still, short of murdering a great many innocent men, she couldn’t think of a better way. They were coming down here to pull a dragon out from what they probably assumed was a cave. With their minds already open to the idea, creating the necessary illusion to feed that belief required far less magic than it might have otherwise. Still, shaping that magic would be a test of her skill at the best of times, and now, tired as she was, it would be a true challenge. She had never backed down from one before, though, and didn’t plan on starting now. She explained to Tresonne and Hangdog what she planned to do with her illusion, and instructed them not to mention anything about the temple’s true appearance, and to act as though it was a plain cave.
The men looked about themselves nervously as they carried the sections of cage down the ramp and into the main chamber. To their eyes, thanks to Ysabeau’s work, it appeared to be a natural chamber in the rock, complete with stalactites, stalagmites, and echoing drips of water. Their shocked reaction to the sleeping dragon was so strong that she was amazed they didn’t drop their burdens or pass out. Once the cage sections were in, they brought down a number of logs to use as rollers under the assembled cage. It was going to be a big job, but she could see it all coming together.
The men needed some encouragement, and then threats, from Tresonne, to get them to bring their sections of cage right up to the creature, but their fear of him seemed to win out over a sleeping dragon. All the while, Ysabeau stood aloof, pretending to be foreboding, but really doing her best to maintain the illusion.
Tresonne joined her to watch the growing accumulation of equipment and tools.
“What else do you have up there?” Ysabeau asked.
“Two of the biggest ox wagons I’ve ever seen, and two teams of eight. I’ve left some men up there to rig up a pulley to lift the caged beast. Most of it has to be made from scratch, but it’s just a bigger version of the ones they use to haul bales of hay into the barn lofts, so they know what they have to do.”
“Excellent,” she said.