Never wake a Dragon (on hold)

7. part II - chains

With his hands deep inside the pockets of his coat, Adeem trudged toward the Archive. He didn't run, and he didn't hasten his steps. Neither Nev or Vincent had been particularly happy when hearing that he had to leave, they'd both looked worried. The vampire had even insisted on tagging along, but he didn't want his friend anywhere near Kyung.

He wasn't as worried as Nev, but he didn't want to give the dragon any satisfaction by showing up within minutes after the call.

The hour was late, but for once, there were quite a lot of people on the move but none of them had piqued his interest. No memories stolen, no hunger fed. The knowledge that his lack of hunger might have to do with the prospect of another meeting didn't sit well with him, but he had no reason to feed for the sake of rebellion. It was better to leave that spite for later.

He crossed the bridge over to Gamla Stan and continued along the quay toward the tunnel that would take him to Riddarholmen. Subway trains moved along the tracks with annoying regularity, and cars swept past far above the speed limit. During rush hour, the roads were usually clogged and traffic moved at a snail's pace, and it seemed as if these drivers wanted to make up for lost opportunity. He had no love for cars, especially the monster SUVs people insisted on driving in the middle of the city, roaring engines included.

Kicking a pebble, he wondered about his mood. He was curious about the murders, but the knowledge that others accused him, and the looming threat of the council killed any scrap of warped enthusiasm he might have had.

The inevitable grew closer and soon he stood by the entrance to the Archive, taking a deep breath before clasping the handle. The massive door whined on its hinges and the cold wind behind him ushered him forward into the dimly lit hallway. The secretary strode down the stairs, holding on to the banister in what must have been an effort to convey a sense of authority.

"You're wanted upstairs."

Without a word, he quickened his step, not so much to reach Kyung but to escape the secretary's presence. Something about that woman rubbed him the wrong way. It had been like that for years, but it was only recently he'd realized just how much he disliked her.

He navigated the lofty corridors, sweeping past the room with the High Councilor's golden bust on display. Ascending another set of stairs, he reached the top floor and hoped Kyung would be in his office.

The phrase 'we have a suspect' could of course mean that the dragon had someone chained in a cellar somewhere, but he hoped that wasn't the case. Shackles and damp vaults had never been his kind of venue.

The door was open, inviting him inside to the dragon's lair. Kyung sat by his desk behind stacks of papers. Perhaps the secretary had even less useful skills than he'd thought. Surely, she ought to have relieved Kyung of these piles.

Weak strands of moonlight filtered in through the window, and only then did he realize how dark the room had been. Frowning, he reached to his left and found a light switch. Kyung eyed him with something that might have been surprise while the room brightened.

The dragon's posture stiffened only to relax back into the comfortable chair. "You took your time," Kyung said.

"Unreasonable expectations." He should have kept his eyes on the danger, but found himself distracted by a trinket on the shelf beside him. It was a delicate piece of brass work, encircling a cloudy orb of crystal. "What is it?" he asked, touching the cool metal with care.

"A memento."

"So, nothing magical?"

"Not that I know of. It was a gift from a wealthy man's daughter back in the sixteenth century."