Page 28 of Real Scale Blazer
“No, thank you.” Quinn glared at the nearest wall. “What I need is fewer interruptions and more actual work time.”
Voices drifted through the open doors of the nearby council chamber, drawing her attention despite her best efforts to ignore them.
“Her geological expertise could prove invaluable,” Malek, one of the older advisors, argued. “These seismic disturbances grow worse by the day. We cannot afford to ignore potentially useful insights, regardless of their source.”
“She’s human.” The dismissive reply came from Lord Vaxis, his voice dripping with disdain. “Her presence here is an affront to tradition. The Dragon King cannot be seen consulting with a mere mortal about matters of state.”
Quinn’s lips twisted into a wry smile. At least some things remained constant across galaxies—there would always be old men in positions of power who thought they knew better than her despite her qualifications.
The sharp click of heels against marble announced a new arrival. Quinn glanced up to see Bhesna entering the library, her silvery robes flowing behind her like liquid moonlight. The female advisor’s ethereal beauty might have been impressive if not for the cold calculation in her violet eyes.
Bhesna’s gaze swept over Quinn with the kind of disdain usually reserved for something unpleasant stuck to the bottom of one’s shoe. She glided past, murmuring just loud enough to be heard, “Humans have no place meddling in dragon affairs.”
“Good thing I’m here for the rocks, then,” Quinn called after her sweetly. “The dragons are just bonusancientartifacts.”
Bhesna’s back stiffened, but she continued toward the council chamber without responding. Quinn watched her go, noting how the advisor’s posture changed—softened, almost—when she approached Kai. Interesting.
Hours later, Quinn retreated to her quarters, her mind swimming with data points and growing suspicions. She plopped down in the plush chair in the sitting area and let out a deep sigh. Immediately she noticed her favorite snack sitting on the coffee table in front of her. Kai had called it something-berries. They were far superior to blueberries on Earth.
As she popped one into her mouth, she wondered who put them there. Thinking it had to have been Kai, her heart warmed at his thoughtfulness?—
A painful sting pierced her neck. Her hand automatically slapped it and that’s when she realized something was wrong. It was not a bug like on Earth, but a small stick. No—it was a dart. A poisoned dart?
Her vision blurred, the room tilting sideways. She saw movement from behind the thick curtains which were a straight shot from where she was sitting. As she fell to the floor, a body ran from the curtains and out of the room, leaving the door open in their wake.
“Help!” she managed to call out. “Someone, please--” She dragged herself to the room’s entrance, using every bit of strength she had remaining.
Palace servants finally rushed in, their voices distant and garbled as her consciousness wavered.
“Get the healer!” someone shouted. “Now!”
Reina arrived in a swirl of silver hair and healing magic, her eyes sharp with concern. She pulled the dart from Quinn’s neck and sniffed the end. “Toxin,” she confirmed. “Nothing too bad though. It will only make you dizzy and slightly nauseous. Thankfully we caught it early enough.”
As the healer worked, Quinn’s mind raced through possibilities. Bhesna’s cold smile floated through her memory, but gut feelings didn’t count as evidence. She needed proof.
“There will be an investigation,” Reina assured her once the antidote had taken effect. “The king will not be pleased.”
“I’m sure he won’t,” Quinn muttered, already dreading the increase in protective hovering this would trigger from Kai. “But I’m fine. Really.”
Reina’s knowing look suggested she saw right through the bravado, but she didn’t argue.
The toxic dart incident proved to be just the beginning. When Quinn returned from the library that evening, she found her quarters ransacked. Drawers hung open, their contents strewnacross the floor. Her careful arrangement of geological samples lay scattered, and several pieces of delicate equipment had been smashed.
“Really?” She surveyed the damage, anger building in her chest. “Amateur intimidation tactics? That’s the best they can do?”
The walls hummed apologetically. “My surveillance systems experienced an unexpected forty-three-second outage. Most irregular.”
“I bet it was.” Quinn picked up a broken seismometer, her jaw tightening. Someone had gone to considerable trouble to bypass the palace’s security. But why? What were they looking for?
The formal banquet that night did nothing to ease her suspicions. Seated among Kai’s advisors, Quinn could practically taste the tension in the air. Or maybe that was just lingering paranoia about the people.
“So,” she said brightly, trying to break the awkward silence, “do dragon shifters have anything like karaoke? You know, where you sing badly on purpose for entertainment?”
The blank stares she received could have frozen lava.
“I... don’t understand,” one advisor finally ventured. “You deliberately perform poorly... for amusement?”
“It’s more fun than it sounds,” Quinn assured him. “Especially after a few drinks.”