104: Chapter 104 The Loot in the Wine Cellar

Dawn. King's Landing. The underground wine cellar of the Tyrell Mansion.

Drogon climbed out from the hold of the smuggling ship in his full human form, reeking of alcohol.

It wasn't that he had been drinking—it was because when he had reverted to his dragon-man form to stretch his legs halfway through the journey, his tail had accidentally knocked over a barrel of wine from The Reach, drenching him in it. Red wine was still dripping from his black hair, trickling down his neck. The hem of his trench coat was stained a dark crimson. He smelled exactly like a smashed wine cellar.

Margaery's handmaiden, Ayla, was already waiting for him in the cellar.

Beside her lay a set of clean clothes for a King's Landing merchant—a dark gray coarse cloth robe with frayed cuffs, looking like the everyday wear of an ordinary merchant.

She saw his disheveled state, and the corners of her mouth twitched, but she remained professional and did not laugh out loud.

Drogon changed out of his wine-soaked night-running tunic and took the three items he had swiped from Tywin's treasury out of his leather pouch—a pigeon-blood ruby, a rough sapphire, and a Valyrian gold dragon coin.

The pigeon-blood ruby glowed on its own in the dim light of the cellar, reflecting deep red in Ayla's pupils. The rough sapphire had a jagged surface but was pure in color. The serrated edges of the gold dragon coin shimmered with a bronze luster in the light.

He wrapped them back up in a clean cloth, then placed the lion-claw armor and Tyrion's dagger on the weapon rack in the cellar. The scabbard of the dagger was still coated with sea salt spray from Casterly Rock.

Ayla watched as he pulled one glittering trinket after another from his leather pouch. She couldn't help but lower her voice.

"My lady says—if Lord Gall brings back any gifts from the Westerlands, please be sure to tell her. She can help you exchange them for gold coins commonly used in King's Landing."

"No exchange. This red one is for my mother. The blue one is for White Mane. The gold coin—I'm keeping it. This is a Valyrian gold dragon coin from before the Doom; it has a half-percent higher gold content than a Lannister gold dragon. Selling it would be a loss."

Ayla's lips curled slightly. She took a piece of parchment folded into the shape of a rose from her sleeve and handed it to him.

"My lady says—the Queen of Thorns is ready for a face-to-face meeting. The location is up to you. Time: the evening of the day after tomorrow. Also—Old Tomard from the Red Keep's kitchen has replied: he remembers that within The Mad King's secret passages, there is an abandoned tunnel leading directly from the kitchen cold cellar to the ruins of the Dragonpit. Deep beneath the base of the dragon-crystal pillar in the Dragonpit ruins, there is a stone door sealed off by rubble. He saw it when he was young, but he never went inside."

Drogon took the parchment and unfolded it. Margaery's handwriting was elegant, every letter written with extreme neatness. After reading it, he refolded the parchment into the shape of a rose and tucked it into his tunic.

"Tell your lady—the meeting place is set at the Copper and Bed Brothel. The shabbiest one in Flea Bottom. Tyrion Lannister has already claimed a table by the window there. If her grandmother isn't afraid of the stench, she can come. As for Old Tomard's secret passage—have Tyrion personally verify it at the kitchen cold cellar. He is the former Hand of the King; he knows how to walk through the Red Keep without alerting the Gold Cloaks."

Daytime. Street of Steel. The Anvil and Bed Inn. The blacksmith shop downstairs was already hammering away. Clang. Clang. The whole building was shaking.

Tyrion had been waiting at the table by the window all morning. Spread out before him were a dozen sheets of parchment filled with sketches of secret passages, as well as half a bottle of fake wine from The Arbor leftover from the night before.

Beneath the wine bottle was a rough cross-section map of the Red Keep's underground, on which he had marked the location of the cold cellar, the path of the abandoned tunnel, and the extent of the Dragonpit ruins with charcoal. Scattered on the low table were charcoal pencils, half a piece of dry bread, and a copy of "A History of Architecture in the Seven Kingdoms" with dog-eared pages.

Drogon pushed the door open and walked in. He placed Tyrion's dagger on the table. The scabbard clicked crisply against the tabletop.

Tyrion's deep green eyes brightened. He didn't reach for it immediately.

He simply reached out with his short, thick fingers and touched the "TL" letters on the scabbard, which were worn down to the point of being almost invisible. The letters had been rubbed down to mere shallow indentations, but he could still feel the outline of the carvings when he touched them.

"Jaime gave me this sword when I was fifteen. Later, it was confiscated by the Gold Cloaks in the sewers of King's Landing. He thought it had been melted down long ago. To think it was still kept."

"He specifically dug it out of the armory. He said you owe him a better one. This one is old—use it for now."

Tyrion drew the dagger halfway out. The ripples of the valyrian steel on the blade shimmered in the morning light, the layered dark patterns looking like a frozen surface of water. He stared at it for a long while, then sheathed it and placed it on his lap. He tapped the table with his short staff and quickly switched into work mode.

"Alright. No more sentimentality. Did Jaime tell you the location of the main canister? He finished part of the blueprints last night and asked me to pass them to you."

He pulled a tightly rolled sheet of thick paper from the pile of parchment and unfolded it. It was the rough draft of the Cremation Array engineering diagram that Jaime had reconstructed from memory. The charcoal lines were so precise they didn't look hand-drawn—the distance for every circle of auxiliary canisters was marked with numbers.

The position of the main canister was marked deep beneath the base of the dragon-crystal pillar in the Dragonpit ruins, with a tiny Dragon Heart pattern drawn in red ink. Beside it, in minuscule letters, was a fragment of The Mad King's phrase— "Burn them all".

The handwriting was scrawled, as if the person who wrote it had immediately pulled the pen away right after finishing those words.

Drogon took the engineering diagram and spread it out completely on the table. The arrangement of the Cremation Array was uncomfortably clear—the main canister was buried directly beneath the base of the dragon-crystal pillar, with three circles of auxiliary canisters arranged around it at a radius of nine steps.

The innermost circle had nine canisters, the middle circle eighteen, and the outer circle twenty-seven. The fuse of every canister was connected via a main fuse at the bottom of the main canister, which ran through the interior of the main canister. The diagram noted—once the main canister is broken by external force, the main fuse tightens, causing the fifty-five auxiliary canisters to detonate in a chain reaction within seconds.

"See this fuse structure?" Tyrion pointed at the location of the main canister with his short staff, tapping the tip lightly on the red Dragon Heart pattern. "The Mad King didn't bury them at random. He referenced the standard specifications of Old Valyria funerals.

The main canister is the 'Dragon Heart', and the fuses are the 'bloodline'. As long as the Dragon Heart is still beating, the bloodline has explosive power. You need to dismantle the main canister—not break it, but make it 'stop beating'.

The connection point of the main fuse inside the main canister uses the pyromancers' sealing wax. This wax is afraid of ice. Use the Ice Element to lower the temperature on the outside of the main canister to an extremely low level, and the wax seal will automatically crack. Then pull out the main fuse. The main canister will be dead."

Drogon's fingers slowly traced over the nine canisters in the innermost circle on the diagram. His slit pupils could not be seen in his full human form, but his finger stopped on the main canister icon, pressing down lightly.

"So I don't need to touch the other fifty-five canisters. I only need to get into the secret chamber where the main canister is located, use Ice Fire to freeze the wax seal until it cracks, and pull out one fuse. The entire Cremation Array will be neutralized."

"Theoretically. Provided you can get in. I have seen the dragon-crystal pillar base in the Dragonpit ruins—it is carved from a solid block of obsidian, too heavy to be moved.

Jaime's diagram marks the entrance to the secret passage in the kitchen cold cellar, but the last section of the passage is sealed off by rubble. You need to dig through the rubble and find that sealed door. Behind the door is the main canister chamber.

You cannot use Dragon Breath to dig through the rubble—the vibration might trigger the tightening of the fuses. You must use human labor. This labor can be servants from House Tyrell, or workers hired from Flea Bottom.

But it must be kept secret. Once Cersei knows someone is messing with The Mad King's wildfire—she will detonate it early."

"You are responsible for the labor. You are the former Hand of the King; you know who is reliable and who is not in the Red Keep. People from House Tyrell can assist, but we cannot rely on them entirely—Margaery's grandmother hasn't had a face-to-face meeting with me yet, and I haven't agreed to the Queen of Thorns' conditions. Until then, the cooperation of House Tyrell is temporary."

Tyrion rolled the engineering diagram back up. He wrapped a thin twine around the paper tube three times and tied a knot.

"The labor is no problem. I will investigate the entrance to the secret passage in the kitchen cold cellar myself. Old Tomard—that old dishwasher in the Red Keep's kitchen—I knew him back when I was Hand of the King.

He remembers The Mad King's secret passage, and I remember a part of it too. It's just that the part in my memory didn't include the main canister chamber. You leave the engineering diagram with me, and I will walk the path from the cold cellar to the Dragonpit tonight, following the diagram.

I have lived in the Red Keep for most of my life; I know which corridor changes guards at what time, even with my eyes closed."

He took the engineering diagram from Drogon's hands. He carefully tucked it into the inner pocket of his coat. Then he looked up, a rare flash of seriousness in his green eyes.

"There is one more thing. Varys. You asked me if he would come to find you himself. I received a letter from him today. Not a raven. It was his usual method—a silver coin placed on the windowsill of my room at the inn. The silver coin had two characters carved on it: 'Dragon?' The question mark was carved by him. I replied, also with a silver coin. I carved 'Yes.' He will come to find you soon."

"Before he comes to find me, I need to know—whose spider is he?"

"He is not anyone's spider. He is the spider of Westeros. His web is laid out beneath everyone's feet, but he never reveals himself before the web is fully woven. Let him come to you. Do not go to him."

Late at night. The Anvil and Bed Inn. Outside the window, the blacksmith shop was working tirelessly through the night, the clanging sounds coming up through the floor.

Drogon sat cross-legged on the bed alone. The Cremation Array engineering diagram was spread out in front of him. The faint blue glow of the dragon-crystal shards shone on the diagram, making the charcoal lines flicker in and out of the light.

The mate mark on his chest was warming slightly. It wasn't a warning. It was the first clear signal Daenerys had sent since he left Casterly Rock. He closed his eyes and focused.

The resonance of the blood bond was exceptionally clear in the quiet of the late night.

What came through was not complete language. It was a chain of sensations—a reply received from the North; the Young Wolf is willing to join forces to fight the White Walkers. White Mane's Brand was being probed in reverse by the Storm Ancestor Dragon.

Melisandre advised White Mane to stay away from the mines. White Mane refused. Daenerys ordered her to remain within the castle on Dragonstone before Drogon absorbs the bones of the Storm Ancestor Dragon, and forbade her from approaching the mines alone. Then came the warmth of her palm covering the Brand on the back of White Mane's neck.

"...The Storm Ancestor Dragon started causing trouble for the Brand before the trial even began. It is afraid of me passing the trial. So, it wants to use little White as a weak point."

System pop-up.

"Before the residual will of the Storm Ancestor Dragon bones locks onto the host, it will automatically seek out the strongest dragon-kin link node in the vicinity for a preliminary probe. White Mane's Brand is the only two-way dragon-kin link on Dragonstone other than the host. It is normal behavior for it to probe her. Suggestion: Before the host absorbs the Storm Ancestor Dragon bones, perform a face-to-face Brand calibration with White Mane—similar to the 'blood bond strengthening' of a core mate, but targeted at the dominance Brand. After calibration, the two-way precision of the Brand will increase, and the interference from the Storm Ancestor Dragon will be suppressed."