The Order of the Scales Read Online Free PDF Page B

to think somewhere far enough away that they wouldn’t be listening in. How far away that was, he had no idea.
    Think. Yes. What was he doing here? That was the nub of it. What was he doing here? What was he doing flying with these dragons?
    Killing dragon-knights. That was the obvious answer . Putting an end to their tyranny.
    And then what? He had no answer to that.
    He trudged on through the snow. The last rays of the dying sun were still doing a decent enough job of lighting up the mountainside, that and the eerie glowing fog that surrounded where the dragons were, a mist of steam lit up from within by the remnants of their fire. In case anyone doesn’t realise that we’re here.
    What am I doing here? What I’m doing is staying alive, that’s what I’m doing here.
    Although frankly, he wasn’t sure why.

The Stone Man
     
    He didn’t get very much further before he had to stop. In front of him was a frozen lake, presumably the place where the eyrie dragons took their water. Kemir had never been to this particular eyrie, but he’d been to others and knew how they worked. The alchemists kept the dragons pliant and dull with their potions, which they gave to the beasts either in their food or in their water, usually both. So if this was where the dragons took their water, the lake was probably laced with dragon poison. Or dragon-make-stupid potion or whatever the alchemists happened to call it.
    He thought about walking across it – keep on going, never come back – but you never knew with frozen lakes whether the ice was as thick as your leg or as thick as your fingernail, and there was really no reason to go and find out. Instead, he turned to follow the edge of the ice as it arced towards the valley below. A few run-down old buildings lay ahead of him that way, perched by the edge of the lake. Thick snowdrifts sat between them, more on the roofs. Half buried and half frozen. The sort of place to put unwanted sell-swords and the like. Not a part of the eyrie where dragon-knights would live, but still, they sometimes turned up in the most unusual places . . .
    Almost as he thought it, he caught a glimpse of something moving. Some one . He tensed, nocked an arrow to his bow and dropped to a crouch. Whoever it was, they weren’t likely to be friendly. He tried to remember what he’d seen from the air as Snow had approached the eyrie. Nothing useful. Most of the time his eyes had been screwed shut, and even when they weren’t, he’d had a snowstorm blowing in his face. He drew the arrow back a way as warmth filled him. It would be good to kill a dragon-knight again.
    Somewhere behind him one of the dragons let out a mighty shriek, loud enough to make him flinch. The sharp tang of smoke was starting to taint the air. By the end of the night you’d be able to smell what had happened here right across the mountain.
    Whoever was there, they’d vanished among another collection of shacks towards the edge of the mountain. Kemir peered into the gloom. He shouldered his bow and let his hands drift to the knives in his belt as he crept a little closer. Knives were better for close work.
    His feet were starting to hurt. The cold.
    A scuff of leather on stone and a half-imagined glimpse of movement alerted him again. He peered into the fading twilight. The sun was behind the other peaks now, the sky still lit up in purples and orange on the horizon, nothing but the dark grey snow clouds above. The air was turning bitter. His toes were starting to go numb.
    ‘Who’s there?’
    At the voice, Kemir leapt into the air and took a step back. He still couldn’t see anyone. Not a dragon-knight though. The voice had a quiver in it. A dragon-knight wouldn’t sound like that. A dragon-knight would come out with a roar and a drawn sword. An alchemist? Now that would be precious, wouldn’t it? What would I do with an alchemist, I wonder?
    ‘Who’s there?’ The voice called out again, louder. ‘What’s going on? Do you know