Dragonlands(77)

"Just because yer in The Black Guard, it doesn't mean you can steal from me."

Henry stood still, not even fighting back. Tressa had a hard time believing the boy had stolen anything, yet hanging in a limp hand was a golden trinket. She thought she'd seen it above the fireplace when they walked in. Yes, it was the golden cat statue.

The pouch filled with gold still dangled from Jarrett's hip. Why would Henry steal when Jarrett had enough money for all of them?

"Are you the owner of this establishment?" Jarrett asked the man who held Henry in a headlock. The man nodded, but didn't relax his hold on Henry. "This was just a misunderstanding. I'm sure Henry was just looking at it. Weren't you Henry?"

"It's mine." Henry stated.

Jarrett sighed.

Tressa stared at Henry in earnest. He'd barely spoken until then, and now he was saying the wrong thing.

"Give it back to the man, Henry. Now," Jarrett said. "It's not yours."

"It's gold. It's mine." Henry tightened his grip on the trinket.

The owner didn't appreciate Henry's attitude and kicked him in the back of the knee. He let go and Henry fell to the floor in a tired heap. "Give it back, you pissant. It's not yours." He reared, ready to deliver an even stronger kick when Jarrett wedged himself between them.

"I'm sorry." He wrested the trinket out of Henry's hand and handed it back to the owner. Then he reached into his pouch and plucked out a few more gold coins. "Take these for your trouble. We'll leave and we won't be back."

The owner's eyes narrowed. "The two of you are welcome." He pointed at Jarrett and Tressa. "But not him. I don't care if he is part of the guard. There's something wrong with the boy and I don't want him scaring off my customers. How did someone like that make the Black Guard anyway?"

"They protected him, they did."

Tressa turned around. It was a man at another table, taking a break from playing cards. Everyone in the place had stopped to watch the fiasco.

"He was the boy who didn't fight a lick. Couldn't even lift his sword. Anyone who went to watch saw it. A lot of good men died. Men who could have stood proudly in the place of him. But, no, he made it in anyway."

Jarrett hooked his hands under Henry's arms, pulling him to his feet. "Let's go," he said to Tressa. She took one last drink from the mug. The bitter wine rushed down the back of her throat.

Henry struggled only half-heartedly against Jarrett's tight grip. "I want it. It's mine. Give it back." He twitched, then shook violently in Jarrett's grasp. Spittle formed at the side of his mouth.

"Get him out of here. He's diseased or something. I won't have him ruining my pub," the owner shouted behind them.

Jarrett dragged Henry out into the street. He tugged him around the corner into a dark alley. Tressa followed behind. Peeking over her shoulder, she was relieved to see no one else was watching them.

"What's wrong with him?" she asked Jarrett.

Henry fell to the ground, his arms and legs spasm violently. Jarrett knelt next to him. "You're about to learn our secret. Keep guard and make sure no one comes back here." He grabbed Henry's collar and pulled him farther back into the dark alley.

The sound of wretching was accompanied by a stench worse than week-old raw chicken. Tressa kept watch at the end of the alley, but no one walked by. She abandoned her post and ran into the darkness. Whatever was going on back there needed to be seen. She no longer cared if anyone stumbled upon them. If there was any chance Jarrett was in danger, she felt compelled to check on him.

Her feet crunched on the occasional pebbles underfoot. The dirty alleyway was littered with rubbish from the pub on one side and the inn on the other. She glanced up. No windows to cast candlelight on them also meant no one could spy on them.

"I told you to watch the entrance to the alley." Jarrett said, his voice stern.

Tressa held her arm over her nose. The smell was nauseating and only grew worse with each step she took. "I was worried you're in danger."

"I'm not," Jarrett retorted. "Damn it, if you're not going to be the guard, then I have to protect us. I don't have time for this."

Muffled sounds echoed in the darkness. Tressa could only see whispers of shadows until a small burst of wind rushed past her toward the alley's entrance. A light glowed at the end of the alley, forming a shimmering barrier between them and the street.

She stumbled backward and tripped, falling to the ground. Her fingers felt something cold and scaly. "What is that?"

"Henry," Jarrett said. "Or do you mean the barrier I put up over there? That protects anyone from seeing what's happening here."

Tressa didn't know where to start. Henry's reptilian skin or the magic Jarrett had just cast.