enough to ogle her.
“That was really damn impressive,” Aurora said. “But... who was up there with you?”
“What?” asked Infidel, running her fingers through what was left of her hair. The longest bits were only a few inches long.
“For a second, I thought I saw someone else clamped onto the dragon’s snout with you. Were my eyes playing tricks?”
Infidel turned pale. “I thought I saw... I thought...” her voice trailed off. “It was just some poor sailor. He... he fell.”
Menagerie dragged himself up onto the roof, human once more. The squid tattoo that had once been dark black upon his neck had faded to a barely visible gray-blue outline.
He collapsed against what was left of the mast, staring up toward the still bubbling volcano. “I guess the king’s dragon hunt has been cancelled.”
Infidel shook her head as she, too, looked at the raging mountain. “I don’t think so. Greatshadow has just been suckered. Those ships were decoys; I’ll stake my life on it.”
“You’re probably right,” said Reeker, wringing water from his hair. He looked at Menagerie. “So, anyway, I quit. I’m done with dragons. Infidel can be the third Goon.”
“You aren’t quitting,” said Menagerie. “You signed the contract.” He tapped at a section of cursive text on the left cheek of his buttocks. “Didn’t you read all the terms? You’re in this until Greatshadow’s dead, or you are.”
Reeker sighed, then muttered something underneath his breath.
“Hur hur hur,” said No-Face.
Infidel laughed as she contemplated Menagerie’s skinny ass. “I guess that’s one way of discouraging people from studying the fine print.”
CHAPTER SIX
INNOCENT
M Y OLD SAILBOAT had come to rest in the tangled branches of a mangrove thicket half a mile away. The gaping holes in the hull would never allow it to return to the bay, but as a tree house it possessed a certain charm. Menagerie had spotted it in the aftermath of the dragon strike, as he’d flitted over the area in his vulture form, surveying the damage. He’d quickly singled out the most likely places to look for survivors, then he and the other Goons had set forth to help who they could.
Infidel was never afraid to lend a hand to anyone in need, but she declined to take part in the rescue mission. I couldn’t blame her; she looked completely wiped out after her fight with the dragon. She found Relic’s gnarled staff among the shattered planks of the Black Swan and used it for support as she limped across the rubble in search of my boat. She was sweating, her face pale and feverish. Her invulnerable skin didn’t burn, but, like anyone, when she got overheated, she could feel sick. It didn’t help that the sun had come out with a fury, its tropical rays turning the humid atmosphere over the churned up bay into a pressure cooker.
At midday, while Infidel still searched through the mangroves, I noticed the Wanderer ships returning. They sailed back into the bay in droves, once again forming a boat city, held together by ropes and ladders instead of docks and gangplanks. River-pygmies were now thick in the bay as well, an entire flotilla of canoes searching among the shattered ships and buildings.
The eruption of the volcano had finally subsided. The once verdant southern slope of the mountain was black now, cloaked with smoke and steam. A shower of fine charcoal ash rained down on the bay, coating every surface.
Infidel was grimy as a miner by the time she found my boat. The once white flag she was wrapped in was now mostly gray. She was all alone as she climbed into the branches. I wondered if Relic had possibly survived. No one had seen the hunchback since she’d tossed him from the crow’s nest.
My place was even more of a trash heap than usual. The piles of books had all toppled. The towers of bottles and jugs had turned into a carpet of broken glass. Infidel dug through the rubble until she’d found the thin cotton mat that
“That was really damn impressive,” Aurora said. “But... who was up there with you?”
“What?” asked Infidel, running her fingers through what was left of her hair. The longest bits were only a few inches long.
“For a second, I thought I saw someone else clamped onto the dragon’s snout with you. Were my eyes playing tricks?”
Infidel turned pale. “I thought I saw... I thought...” her voice trailed off. “It was just some poor sailor. He... he fell.”
Menagerie dragged himself up onto the roof, human once more. The squid tattoo that had once been dark black upon his neck had faded to a barely visible gray-blue outline.
He collapsed against what was left of the mast, staring up toward the still bubbling volcano. “I guess the king’s dragon hunt has been cancelled.”
Infidel shook her head as she, too, looked at the raging mountain. “I don’t think so. Greatshadow has just been suckered. Those ships were decoys; I’ll stake my life on it.”
“You’re probably right,” said Reeker, wringing water from his hair. He looked at Menagerie. “So, anyway, I quit. I’m done with dragons. Infidel can be the third Goon.”
“You aren’t quitting,” said Menagerie. “You signed the contract.” He tapped at a section of cursive text on the left cheek of his buttocks. “Didn’t you read all the terms? You’re in this until Greatshadow’s dead, or you are.”
Reeker sighed, then muttered something underneath his breath.
“Hur hur hur,” said No-Face.
Infidel laughed as she contemplated Menagerie’s skinny ass. “I guess that’s one way of discouraging people from studying the fine print.”
CHAPTER SIX
INNOCENT
M Y OLD SAILBOAT had come to rest in the tangled branches of a mangrove thicket half a mile away. The gaping holes in the hull would never allow it to return to the bay, but as a tree house it possessed a certain charm. Menagerie had spotted it in the aftermath of the dragon strike, as he’d flitted over the area in his vulture form, surveying the damage. He’d quickly singled out the most likely places to look for survivors, then he and the other Goons had set forth to help who they could.
Infidel was never afraid to lend a hand to anyone in need, but she declined to take part in the rescue mission. I couldn’t blame her; she looked completely wiped out after her fight with the dragon. She found Relic’s gnarled staff among the shattered planks of the Black Swan and used it for support as she limped across the rubble in search of my boat. She was sweating, her face pale and feverish. Her invulnerable skin didn’t burn, but, like anyone, when she got overheated, she could feel sick. It didn’t help that the sun had come out with a fury, its tropical rays turning the humid atmosphere over the churned up bay into a pressure cooker.
At midday, while Infidel still searched through the mangroves, I noticed the Wanderer ships returning. They sailed back into the bay in droves, once again forming a boat city, held together by ropes and ladders instead of docks and gangplanks. River-pygmies were now thick in the bay as well, an entire flotilla of canoes searching among the shattered ships and buildings.
The eruption of the volcano had finally subsided. The once verdant southern slope of the mountain was black now, cloaked with smoke and steam. A shower of fine charcoal ash rained down on the bay, coating every surface.
Infidel was grimy as a miner by the time she found my boat. The once white flag she was wrapped in was now mostly gray. She was all alone as she climbed into the branches. I wondered if Relic had possibly survived. No one had seen the hunchback since she’d tossed him from the crow’s nest.
My place was even more of a trash heap than usual. The piles of books had all toppled. The towers of bottles and jugs had turned into a carpet of broken glass. Infidel dug through the rubble until she’d found the thin cotton mat that
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