One Good Dragon Deserves Another

by Rachel Aaron

  Striving to look as normal as possible, Marci opened her door a fraction and leaned down, shoving her phone directly beneath her front tire. When it was wedged into place, she yanked herself back inside and closed her eyes, focusing hard on her connection with Ghost.

  It was a lot more difficult than she’d expected. She’d called for Ghost several times before, but she’d never actually tried to talk to him across distance. She wasn’t at all sure it was working this time, but finally, after several mental pokes, she felt him stir.

  Find Julius, she thought, forming each word like an object in her mind before sending it down their connection. Tell him I’ll meet him at the house. Also, tell him to clean out my closet.

  If Ghost found any of that odd, he didn’t say anything. Marci wasn’t even sure he’d gotten the message, but she had no time to try again. She’d already been here too long, and the van in the row behind her had been idling with its engine running since she’d woken up.

  Marci eyed it suspiciously in her mirror. It could be just her paranoia, or it could be a tail. Either way, they were going for a ride.

  With a last, bitter smile at her reflection, Marci set her autonav in the opposite direction of home and backed out, crushing her compromised phone under her tire in the process. Sure enough, the idling van rolled out as soon as she hit the exit ramp, following her through the pay gate and out into the street. After that, Marci didn’t even bother watching. She just grabbed her casting markers out of her bag and got to work, crouching down in her seat as she began drawing a magical circle onto the car’s dash.

  Chapter 6

  Marci was not at the house when they returned.

  Julius kept it together, calmly sending his brother upstairs to take a shower and change before going for his phone. But while Marci’s phone seemed to be off lockdown, she still wasn’t answering. Even more alarming, the cellular triangulation app—which Marci herself had installed on both their phones for just such an emergency—didn’t seem to be working, either. Now that she was no longer blocking him, Julius should have been able to use the cell towers to pin her location down to within a thousand meters, but every time he tried, all he got was an error. If it wasn’t for the fact that Ghost was still on the couch, he’d have thought Marci was dead in a ditch for sure.

  Then again, maybe Ghost’s presence here didn’t mean anything at all? Julius still knew almost nothing about the actual mechanics of how human mages bound spirits. They’d all gone to sleep when the magic had vanished a thousand years ago. What if they went back to sleep when their master died, too?

  That thought made his blood run cold. By the time Justin—washed and dressed in Julius’s loosest pair of sweat pants—stomped back down the stairs, Julius was deep in the spirit forums, looking up everything he could find on what happened to bound spirits when their human died.

  “Would you stop acting like a nervous hen?” Justin said, plopping down on the couch beside Ghost, who still hadn’t moved.

  “What should I act like?” Julius snapped. “It’s almost three in the morning, and Marci’s still missing.”

  “Three a.m.’s nothing on a Friday night in the DFZ,” his brother replied with a shrug. “She probably went to a club or something. Unlike you, some people enjoy doing things besides staying at home and staring at their phones like old ladies.”

  Julius grit his teeth. It was a dark day indeed when Justin was the reasonable one.

  “Besides,” his brother continued. “If you’re so worried, why are you still here? She’s your human. You want her home, go out there and drag her back.”

  “She’s not a lost dog,” Julius snapped. “And it’s not that simple.”

  “Why not?” Justin demanded.

  “Because she might not want to come home!”

  Julius hadn’t meant to say that. Like most fundamentally true things, though, it had slipped out on its own, making Justin roll his eyes in disgust. “Is that what this is about?”

  “No,” Julius said, and then he sighed. “Maybe. I don’t know.” He walked over and sank down opposite his brother on the couch’s one remaining free cushion. “I was pretty mean to her tonight, and now that she’s missing, I can’t help wondering if maybe it’s on purpose?”

  “That’s stupid,” Justin scoffed. “We’re dragons. Whether they love or fear us, humans can’t stay away. Even you can’t mess that up. She’s probably just off sulking somewhere. Though I suppose she could be dead. Mortals kick over at the drop of a hat, after all.”

  Julius buried his head in his hands. “Not helping, Justin.”

  “Can I help it if you make everything complicated?” his brother snapped. “You’re the one who always insists on treating your humans like they’re equals. If you want her to act like a pet, then slap a collar on her neck and be done with it, but you can’t give her freedom and then freak out when she uses it.”

  Julius sighed. It did sound pretty ridiculous when he put it like that, but though he’d arrived at it from the completely wrong angle, Justin was right. He was being an idiot. If Marci was out this late without calling, then she was probably in real trouble that had nothing to do with Julius’s insecurities. He’d apologize to her later. Right now, though, he was going to find her. He was turning to ask his brother for help when something icy pressed into his leg.

  Julius looked down with a start. Ghost, who’d been dead asleep between them on the couch the last time he’d looked, was now sitting straight up with his paw on Julius’s thigh and his ears pressed flat back against his head.

  “What’s it doing?” Justin asked.

  “I don’t know,” Julius said, leaning down to look at the spirit on his level. “What is it, Ghost?”

  The cat’s eyes narrowed at the Lassie-esque question, and Julius bit his tongue. He was about to try again with something less insulting when the spirit’s voice whispered in his head.

  She’s coming home.

  The rush of relief that followed those words was so intense, it was almost painful. “Really?” he cried, jumping off the couch.

  The spirit blinked at him, which he assumed meant yes. You are to clean out her closet.

  Julius’s soaring hopes skidded to a confused halt. “Her closet? Why?”

  The spirit looked away, clearly insulted, and Julius scrambled to backtrack. “I’m sorry. I’ll do whatever she needs me to. Is there anything else?”

  He certainly hoped there wasn’t, because Ghost was already losing interest, fading into the air like sunlight behind a cloud. A few seconds later, he was gone completely, leaving Julius staring at the now empty cushion beside his brother, who looked appalled.

  “Did you just apologize to a cat?” he cried. “Because that’s a new low, Julius. Even for you.”

  Julius was too excited to be insulted. “Marci’s coming home!”

  “I told you it’d work itself out,” Justin said, getting off the couch to follow Julius as he sprinted up the stairs to the second floor. “So where was she?”

  “I don’t know yet,” Julius said as he threw open the door to Marci’s room. “But I have to clear out her closet.”

  Justin stopped. “Seriously?”

  “I wouldn’t make something like that up,” he said, smiling. “But if Ghost told me to do it, I’m guessing it’s important.” And right now, he’d gladly tear down the whole house and rebuild it from scratch if it would bring Marci home even a minute sooner. “Come give me a hand.”

  Justin rolled his eyes so high it must have hurt, but eventually he came over, grudgingly helping Julius move the massive collection of clothes, notebooks, and various magical materials out of Marci’s closet to reveal the spellwork hidden underneath.

  ***

  Thirty minutes later, Julius was starting to worry Ghost had played him for a fool.

  He and Justin had cleaned Marci’s entire closet, uncovering the intricate circles of spellwork that, in hindsight, Julius should have been expecting from the beginning. But while the magi
cal markings explained the mysterious cleaning spree, it didn’t explain why Marci still wasn’t back, or why she had yet to answer her phone. Julius had actually given up calling by this point, settling for sitting on the porch like—as Justin repeatedly informed him—a dog waiting for its master. Fortunately, Julius had also given up being insulted. He just wanted Marci to come home so he could stop feeling this way.

  “She’s not coming,” Justin said as they crossed the half-hour mark. “Face it. You got stood up via cat.”

  Julius was opening his mouth to tell him to shut up when he saw a flash of light in the dark. “Really?” he said instead, breaking into a grin. “Then what’s that?”

  Justin’s head snapped around just in time as the car pulled around the corner into their hidden drive. “You got her a pickup?”

  “What are you talking about?” Julius said, jumping to his feet to go meet her.

  Rather than answer, his brother just pointed at the approaching headlights, and Julius’s hopes began to crumple, because he was right. The car coming down the gravel road was not Marci’s sedan, but a beat up, rust-colored pickup truck that looked like it had been driven straight off a construction site. Likewise, the human sitting in the driver’s seat was most definitely not Marci. It was an old man wearing a backwards cap, his bearded face blank and bored as he steered his truck toward the house.

  “Ooooh,” Justin said, smirking. “I get it now.”

  “Get what?” Julius said, his shoulders slumping even further when he spotted the lettering on the truck’s door. “That’s just one of the skyway maintenance contractors. They come in every—”

  “Have you completely forgotten how to be a dragon?” Justin growled, cuffing him across the back of the head. “Use your nose, moron.”

  Julius didn’t understand, but he did as he was told, sucking in the air through his nose until his breath hitched. Marci’s scent was there! It was faint and buried by smells of cement and oil and dirt, but now that he’d caught it, Julius realized hers was the only fresh human scent in the area. It was coming closer, too, moving with the truck as the vehicle creaked to a stop in front of the house.

  It was moments like these when a lifetime spent looking over his shoulder really came in handy. Even though Julius wanted nothing more than to run down and grab her, hugging someone while they were in disguise totally defeated the purpose, and even in his excitement, Julius knew better. He did jump down to get her door, though, holding it open as the old man who smelled like Marci climbed down, did a double-take at Justin, and then hurried up the steps into the house.

  Once they were all inside, Julius locked the door and put his back against it, heart pounding as he stared at Marci’s transformed face. “What is going on?”

  “I’ll tell you in a moment,” she said in a stranger’s deep, masculine voice, which was pretty unnerving. He’d never seen her use an illusion this thick. If it wasn’t for his nose, he would never have known the man going around his living room and closing all the blinds was Marci at all.

  “Did you get my message?” she asked.

  “I did,” Julius said. “Your closet is clear, but I don’t understand—”

  She grabbed his hand before he could finish and yanked him toward the stairs. When Justin started to follow, though, she ordered, “No.”

  “Excuse me?” the dragon growled.

  Marci didn’t respond, just looked at Julius, who sighed. “Give us five minutes.”

  You’d have thought he was asking Justin to betray the clan. But while he looked seriously pissed, he stopped trying to follow them up the stairs, leaving Julius and Marci alone as she led the way down the hall to her bedroom and straight into her newly emptied closet. The moment they were both inside, she kicked the door shut, plunging them into darkness for a split second before the spellwork lit up.

  Circles of spellwork flared all around them, filling the closet like a camera flash before fading to a warm yellow glow only slightly brighter than a candle. But while the flash and fade was in line with most of Marci’s spells, what got Julius’s attention was that the sounds had faded, too. The moment the spellwork had lit up, all exterior noises—the creak of the house, the dull roar of the cars overhead, Justin’s impatient pacing on the floor below—had vanished, leaving the closet in deep, unnatural silence. He still could hear his own breaths, and Marci’s, but nothing else. “What is this?”

  “My isolation booth,” she said, standing up. “I was testing a theory for a ward against sound. Think of it like you’re standing inside a pair of noise-canceling headphones.”

  “I’d say it works pretty well,” Julius said, rubbing his ears in an attempt to get used to the deafening quiet. “But Marci, what is going on? Why didn’t you answer my calls? And why did you come here disguised like a…”

  His voice trailed off as Marci’s illusion evaporated, revealing her real face, which looked like she was about to cry. “Oh, Julius,” she said, her voice breaking. “I messed up. I messed up so bad.”

  “Messed up what?” he said frantically. “And what happened to your neck?”

  Marci’s neck was swathed in bandages. He didn’t think she was actively bleeding, but she had been not too long ago. “I knew something was wrong,” he said, curling his shaking hands into fists. “Marci, what is going on?”

  She dropped her eyes to the floor. “After you left, I went downtown to pick up my dad’s ashes. I know we’re supposed to be hiding, but I thought I was clear since I didn’t use our address. When I came out, though, Vann Jeger was waiting for me.”

  Julius froze. “Vann Jeger?” he whispered at last. “The Vann Jeger? As in Algonquin’s hunter?”

  She nodded, and Julius’s stomach clenched. He might not be a proper dragon, but even he knew of Vann Jeger. He was a monster from ancient dragon history—the spirit who hunted the hunters—and the rumors about him had only gotten worse since he’d joined Algonquin shortly after she’d claimed Detroit. But though Vann Jeger was famous for killing dragons, he generally stayed away from humans. Or, at least, that was what Julius had heard. “Did he hurt you?”

  “No,” Marci said, and Julius sighed in relief. “But…”

  “But?”

  “I told him,” she said, her eyes locked on the ground. “About you.”

  Julius tensed, and Marci’s head shot up. “Not voluntarily, I swear! And I didn’t tell him much. Not your name or your clan or anything big like that. I wouldn’t have said a word, but he had my prints on the gun I used to shoot Bixby. He was going to book me for murder unless I told him about the dragon. I tried to lie, but they had me in a truth teller. I got around it a little, but…” She looked down again, covering her face with her hands. “I betrayed you.”

  “Marci, no,” Julius said, moving closer. The closet was so small, there wasn’t far to go, but any space at all felt like too much right now. “It’s my fault there was a hunter in the first place. You did absolutely nothing wrong. I’m amazed you got away.”

  “But I didn’t,” she said, reaching up to tug down the bandage on her neck. She did this like she was revealing some kind of horrible truth, but Julius had no idea what he was looking at.

  “They drew a sword on your neck?”

  “It’s a curse,” she said bitterly. “A big one, called the Sword of Damocles.”

  Julius winced. He didn’t know most curses from croutons, but the Sword of Damocles was famous. You saw it in movies all the time, especially crime dramas. It was supposed to be a mutually unbreakable pact, which, now that he thought about it, didn’t make sense in the current situation. “How did they put it on you?” he asked, confused. “I thought the whole deal with the Sword of Damocles was that both parties had to be willing for it to work?”

  It was an honest question, but Marci looked like he’d just kicked her. “Vann Jeger was going to turn me over to Algonquin if I didn’t tell him where you were,” she said, shaking. “I tried getting around the question, but he had a sword to my throat, s
o I stalled by telling them I needed time to lure you into a trap. I told them to put a binding curse on me to keep me in the city, so they’d know it wasn’t a trick. My plan was to break the curse, grab you, and run before they knew what was up, but I miscalculated.” She put her fingers on the black tattoo. “This was the only curse he’d accept. If I turned it down, I’d basically be admitting I was planning to betray him. I had to let him do it, and now, if I don’t keep my promise to bring you to him at sundown, it’s going to cut off my head.”

  Her voice was cracking by the end, and Julius couldn’t stand it. “It’s okay,” he said, reaching out to gently grab her shoulders. “You bought us time. That’s great! It means we can still figure this out.”

  “No, we can’t,” she said, pushing his hands away. “I was stupid. I should have known they wouldn’t give me something I could break. I should have left my dad in Nevada. I should have remembered the stupid gun! You’d think I’d be better at destroying evidence after all the cop shows I’ve watched, but no. Apparently I’m one of those incompetent murderers who gets caught the first time!” She slid down the closet wall with a hopeless, angry sound. “Your mother was right,” she muttered as she reached the floor. “I really am a bumbling, foolish human, aren’t I?”

  “Absolutely not,” Julius said, squatting down as well so he could look her in the face. “Listen to me, Marci. You are the cleverest person I know. What my mother said was wrong then and it’s wrong now. You’re not my human or my pet or anything like that. You’re my best friend and ally who tried everything she could think of to save me from a dragon hunter. That’s huge. Thanks to your quick thinking, we have time to plan. Now we just have to use it to figure out a way to break your curse.”

  He actually thought she’d been brilliant, not to mention brave. Any of his family would have sold him out to Vann Jeger in a heartbeat, but Marci had protected him, even tried to con an ancient spirit while he’d had a sword at her neck. Julius didn’t have words for what that kind of loyalty meant to him, and he wasn’t about to waste a second of the time she’d bought second-guessing how she might have done it better. But while he was ready to get to work, Marci looked like she’d already given up.