Tricked Into Flight

Chapter 15

*Katerina's POV*

Randel plodded beside me, still sulking and thoroughly convinced the miners would mistake him for one of their own. I had apologized and told him his clothing wasn't that dirty, but he just ignored me. I was still having trouble believing that I had thrown damp dirt at a dragon rider – with the dragon present! – and was still unharmed.

When the village came into view, I had an entirely new set of worries to contend with. The biggest problem actually being the rider beside me, or rather, his superior attitude. It had disappeared around me, but when we passed two other travelers, the haughty expression had returned.

After making sure no one was around, I stopped. "We need a plan. We can't go in together."

"We find people and ask questions. How hard can it be?"

"The miners won't talk if you just walk up to them like that. We need to be more subtle..." I trailed off, realizing that the word would never apply to this man, regardless of how hard he tried.

With a sigh, he crossed his arms and waited impatiently.

I pursed my lips as his pose reminded me of a certain group of people I always avoided in my travels. "Have you ever talked to a tax collector before?"

"They don't bother dragon riders," he said, like the answer should have been obvious.

"Well, you're not dressed like a rider now. Surely you had to pay taxes at some point."

"Yeah..."

I shrugged out of my backpack and started digging through it. "Okay, dust as much of that lingering dirt off your clothing as you can so it looks like you tried to be clean. You're going to pretend to be a tax collector and ask the person in charge for the receipts. Here's some paper and a pencil. Also be sure to ask how much the guest houses have made, how many travelers are in them now, and what they're paying. They'll charge a mage more since they always have money. Write down the details – you can write, right?"

"Of course," he told me indignantly.

"No offense meant. Most can't. I bet only a handful of people in this entire place can even read." That seemed to appease him, so I continued, "Don't ask about the mages. Just about tax papers and the amount the guest houses are bringing in. You'll go into the town ahead of me, and I'll see if I can get more details out of the miners. Pretend you don't know me if we walk by one another. Does that make sense?"

"I guess. What do I do if they haven't paid their taxes?"

Did this guy have no creativity to speak of? Apparently not... "Ask about anything that might make them money. Especially those guest houses – oh, and ask about expenses, like mage spells. Then tell them you'll send someone back later to collect the money. Talk for as long as you can."

"Okay. Is that it?"

"I think so. Good luck," I told him. He was going to need it.

With paper, pencil, and attitude in hand, he paraded toward the town in a fashion that made me wonder if he had actually been a tax collector at one point. After giving him a head start, I wandered down the road, slightly dragging my footsteps like I had been traveling for hours on end.

By the time I wandered into the village, Randel was being ushered into the biggest building in town. With him out of the way and occupied, I looked around, hoping for inspiration or an opportunity.

"Can I help you, Miss?" a woman asked as she hung damp clothing on a clothesline.

"Are there any places to eat?" I asked politely. "I wouldn't mind resting for a few hours after the walk here."