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I made you a doodle and finished Chapter Eight! Happy birthday! Let me know what you think so far!

Chapter Eight
The next morning they left for Ezravar. Dav was ready to go. He had been travelling a bunch of times with his parents. “It’s a wonder they settled down,” said Dav. “If our house could disappear and reappear somewhere else just like that, they wouldn’t live in the same city twice.”
The journey was uneventful, but Dav kept chatting with them and keeping things from getting boring. “My dad is so brilliant,” he said over the sound of their wingbeats, “he can travel into the future at the speed of time.” Zash put that in his list of jokes.
They landed at last in Ezravar and were unaware that when they landed, Zarakharn teleported closer.
Zarakharn had a plan. A replica of Sartigar’s cage hung in his replicated room with a sheet over it. When he lifted the sheet, Sartigar was transported to the cage— provided he was in the other one, of course. Zarakharn had summoned his pet and spoken to him about the plan. As soon as Zarakharn got close, he could take the crystal. Then he would kill them. All of them. Ginzaekh. Nat’s son. The one named Zash. The female. He had discovered that her arname was Arkaesi, and that was not a good sign. Zash he wasn’t sure about. But if he was travelling with Shazarians on Shazarian business, then he had to be a Shazarian too. They were all threats to be exterminated. But the crystal was the top priority. He could not afford for it to be destroyed now, not with five Shazarians discovered. They had to be, how could they not? Zarakharn’s only question was why were they coming toward him? Zarakharn saw no purpose in it except of course to make things easier for him. But what their reasons were, Zarakharn knew not, nor did it matter.
Zarakharn closed his eyes. He would spend all his energy teleporting to the next location. He could wake from the coma when he had energy to do it again. He wanted this to be over as soon as possible.

Vizagar watched Ginzaekh go inside the motel. He waited a few minutes, then went inside himself and booked a room. He glanced at the list on the desk. The last entry read Ginzaekh Arrissa +3, rm 52, 923 n.. “Room 53, please.”
“We don’t do room requests…”
Ugh. All this bribery and he’d have barely enough profit from the reward money. He took out a handful of coins and dropped them on the desk one at a time in addition to his payment for his room.
“That… can be arranged,” said the dragon at the desk. He scooped up the gold and gave Vizagar the key.
Vizagar smiled. He went up to his motel room.

The room was a dump. Zash was about to march up and demand their money back, but Gazi pointed out for a room with two sections that only cost 25 inzai per dragon it wasn’t really a bad deal. She winced at some graffiti on the wall. “That’s offensive.”
Dav stuck his tongue out and grimaced in agreement.
“Why? What is it?” asked Ginzaekh. “I can’t read it.”
“Oh, it’s Shkatardik, the Vrakardian language made entirely of swear words. My dad uses it a lot. He’s called Zarakharn some pretty nasty names.”
“Bet he wasn’t happy about you going on this trip then.”
“My mom said it was OK, so he didn’t argue,” said Gazi. “He says Zarakharn’s getting old and hopefully he’ll die before I get there, and he said it in Shkatardik.”
“He sounds… nice,” said Dav.
“He is, but he gets pretty heated about politics,” said Gazi. “Anyway, someone should rub that off, it says maker of evil potions and that’s a really bad insult in Vrakardian culture.”
“Especially for you,” said Ginzaekh.
Dav went up to the graffiti and licked it. He began to have a spitting fit. “This won’t come off,” he gagged. “Sorry.”
“Why does he lick stuff?” asked Zash.
“I’ll get a sheet and cover that up,” said Ginzaekh.
“Thanks,” said Gazi. “I get the other room.”
“But that one’s bigger!” Zash complained.
“Dude, chill,” said Ginzaekh.
“I can sleep outside,” said Dav.
“No,” said Ginzaekh, “don’t do that.”
“It’s not any trouble, there’s a big box right there.” Dav pointed to an empty crate. “I’ll just take that outside and sleep in that.”
Zash gave Ginzaekh a pleading look.
“If you want to,” said Ginzaekh. He helped Dav pick up the crate and carry it outside.
Zash looked at the bed. He looked at the floor. He looked at the bed. Finally he decided to let Ginzaekh have the bed and set his stuff up on the floor.
Ginzaekh came back. “Thanks, dude,” he said, and he settled down on the bed.
Gazi came out of her room and pulled a clump of fuzz off her wing. “You can have that room.”
Zash got up off the floor and moved into the other room happily. Gazi sat on the floor and set up her sleeping bag. There was a knock at the door. A burly, sleazy-looking dragon with a broken horn opened the door and said, “You’re wanted up front.”
Ginzaekh headed to the front desk and the dragon said, “You two, go with him.”
Gazi and Zash complied, wondering what was going on. Vizagar searched the room. He found the sack that had had the crystal in it on the bed. He rifled through it, looking for the crystal. He searched the sack on the floor, and dug through it. He cut himself on something sharp and pointy. Triumphantly he reached for it and found it was only a knife. Annoyed that he had cut himself for nothing, he licked his hand and kept looking.
“I can’t believe we got a refund,” said Zash as he came back through the door with the others. “We get to sleep in this dump for free…! Hey, what are you doing?”
“Dropped something,” said Vizagar, taking a coin from Zash’s bag and holding it up as if he’d picked it up from off the floor. He then got up and said, “Good day.” The door closed.

Zarakharn was very excited. He was one city away from his destination. Zarakharn didn’t usually stay in inns; last time had been an exception. His underground bases were designed to remind him of home. But Zarakharn was tired of staying underground; he hated long trips. He usually rented lodgings on the surface halfway through them if they were long enough. He was ready to do so now, but he didn’t have to check in at one of the local taverns this time. He had a private mansion here, built when his grandfather was emperor. He beamed himself up and found himself in the forest outside Skrahaankar. He gauged his energy and decided that it wouldn’t hurt to teleport a bit more; he teleported directly into the mansion. Feeling drained but immensely satisfied, he dragged himself to the bed and began to plot. One more city. One more city and Zarakharn could put this all behind him. What a relief that would be. He could get the crystal back, he could dispose of potential threats… no, they weren’t potential threats, they were threats. A threat was potential in itself. He rolled over on his left side. In his brain he reviewed the plan. He had discussed it with Sartigar and was confident that this would be easy. Sartigar’s venom was deadly. If one of the four was bitten, they would have to stop and treat him immediately. Then Zarakharn could grab the crystal, then come back and pick up Sartigar and kill the others in the process. He would not be beaten. Not by any dragon, not by any spirit, not by any prophecy. He promised himself he would find a Kenshi apprentice as soon as this was over. Then he would look for the rest of the Elder Swords. The first place he would check was Nat Arrissa’s.