by Rachel Aaron
Now it was Amelia’s turn to look sheepish. “I wasn’t, actually.”
Marci and Julius gasped in unison. “What?”
“I didn’t get to this age by being stupid!” Amelia said defensively. “It’s called fighting smarter, not harder. My plan was to show up, stall until I was sure the Sword of Damocles was off Marci’s neck, and then bail through a portal. I would have solved everyone’s problems and kept all my promises without risking a hair on my head.”
Julius scowled. It wasn’t that Amelia’s strategy was bad, but he didn’t appreciate how easy his sister had made defeating Vann Jeger sound, especially since she hadn’t actually been planning to try.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Amelia grumbled. “Vann Jeger’s called the Death of Dragons for a reason. He’s not the sort of fight I can just waltz through, and I’ve found my long term survival strategy works best if I avoid direct confrontations with dudes who can kill me.”
“What about the portal thing?” Marci asked. “Could you still do that? Like, could we open a portal under Vann Jeger’s feet and drop him into a lake of lava or a black hole or something?”
“I’ve done both of those, actually,” Amelia said with a smile. “But there’s something else I haven’t told you. Watch.”
She stuck her hand out in front of her, and Julius flinched instinctively, bracing for the sharp bite of dragon magic. A bite that did not come.
“Um, was something supposed to happen?”
“Yes,” Amelia said glumly, dropping her hand. “And that’s exactly my point. That should have opened a portal large enough to drive a truck through, but I haven’t been able to open so much as a pigeonhole since I woke up.”
Julius stared at her. “You tried to open a portal from my couch?”
She nodded. “While you were on the phone. But as you see, it didn’t work.”
“Why not?” Marci asked.
“I think it’s the injuries,” Amelia said, patting the bloody towels covering her chest. “Rapid healing and cutting through the fabric of time and space both require a lot of magical oomph, and apparently I don’t have enough to do both at the moment.” She reached into the bag on her lap for another taco. “That’s why I’m eating so much. I’m hoping food will help get me back up to speed. Well, that and tacos are freaking delicious.”
“Could it be something else?” Julius asked, remembering Chelsie’s theory that Amelia might be compromised. “We know Estella did something to you, and ruining your ability to portal would definitely count as effective sabotage.”
“It would,” Amelia said with her mouth full. “But I don’t think that’s what’s going on here. Messing with a dragon’s magic means messing with the core of what makes us what we are. That’s not something you can do without the victim noticing. I mean, even if Mother had knocked you out for the process, could you overlook your seal?”
Never. “Then I guess we’re just going to have to wait and hope your power comes back,” Julius said, defeated. “Because, barring a miracle, I have no idea how we’re going to beat Vann Jeger without you.”
“I don’t know about that,” Marci said, tapping her lip in the way she did when she was thinking of something big. “Vann Jeger’s a tried and true monster, but at the end of the day, he’s still a spirit. What if we tried banishing him?”
Julius frowned. “Does that even work on spirits his size?”
“Why not?” she asked. “Spirits vary wildly in size, intelligence, and ability, but—as your sister explained to me earlier today—they’re all just basically sacks of sentient magic. If that’s true, then, mechanically speaking, Vann Jeger should be no different than the tank badger spirit we pulled off that dude yesterday.”
That didn’t sound right to Julius. “I don’t know—”
“It’s very simple,” Marci said, digging a piece of casting chalk out of her pocket as she sank to her knees and began sketching a circle on the scuffed hardwood floor. “One of the core tenets of Thaumaturgical Theory is that all magic can be reliably manipulated regardless of the source. That’s why, unlike Shamans who just grab whatever magic is available and throw it around, Thaumaturges always take the time to write out our spells, because no matter how crazy the magic might feel when you’re pulling it in, it all acts the same once you put it through your spellwork. It’s just like electricity. It doesn’t matter what generated it or even what form it arrives in. Once you run that current through a voltage regulator, it’s all just power.”
“We’re still talking about a lot of power,” Julius reminded her.
“Doesn’t matter,” Marci said. “If Vann Jeger is made of magic like every other spirit, there’s no reason the normal banishing spellwork shouldn’t work on him. It’s just a matter of scaling it up.”
“How are you even going to get him into the spellwork?” Julius asked, looking down at the hula-hoop sized circle Marci had just finished drawing at his feet. “The badger was happy to sit on our client, but I don’t think Vann Jeger’s going to stand politely in one place.”
Marci smirked. “He will if we draw a big enough circle.”
“She’s right,” Amelia said excitedly. “This whole thing started because Vann Jeger wanted to fight a dragon. If we give him what he wants, he’s not going to leave the battlefield, so if we draw a circle around that, he might not even notice he’s in a trap until it’s too late.”
“How is he not going to notice?” Julius asked. “We’ve done a lot of banishing jobs, and the spirits never look happy about it.”
“That’s because I generally trap them in a ward first so they can’t get away,” Marci explained. “They’re struggling because they’re stuck, not because of the rest. At the simplest level, banishing a spirit is just a transfer of power from one place to another. Once you’ve got your target trapped in your circle, you suck out its magic to shrink it down to a size you can manage, and then you use the magic you just took to power a spell that will banish the spirit back to its domain or bind it or do whatever it is you want to do.”
“And again, how is that not noticeable?” Julius said, exasperated. “You’ve sucked magic out of me, remember? It’s not exactly a subtle operation.”
“That’s different,” Amelia cut in. “You’re a dragon. We make our own magic. If a mage takes some, then we’re left with a gap until we do something to regenerate what we lost, like eat or sleep. This makes us very attuned to even minor changes in our power, but spirits are different. They’re more like empty pots that magic gets poured into. This doesn’t mean they won’t notice when they’re getting empty, but if they’re busy with other things—like, say, a long-awaited epic fight with a dragon—they might not notice someone siphoning off the top until it’s too late.”
That was encouraging, but, “How would we even get an ‘epic fight with a dragon’? You’re down for the count, remember?”
“I am,” Amelia said with a smirk. “But you’re not.”
Julius’s eyes went so wide they hurt. “You’re joking.”
“Do I look like I’m joking?”
She didn’t, which was insane. “You just said Vann Jeger would be a tough fight even for you,” he reminded her. “You’re an A! I’m a J, and not even one of the good J’s. I’m also sealed. I couldn’t give Vann Jeger an epic anything, except maybe a laugh.”
“All true,” Amelia said sadly. “But you’re forgetting something very important, which is that you are in the company of two incredibly talented mages.” She looked at Marci. “Once he’s in your circle, how long do you think it would take you to whittle Vann Jeger down to a manageable size?”
“Impossible to say without knowing how big he actually is,” Marci replied thoughtfully. “Maybe half an hour?”
Julius gaped at her. “Seriously?”
“I drained that tank badger in less than two minutes,” she reminded him with a proud look. “The time sink part of banishing a spirit is getting the spellwork set up. Once I actually start pulling, they go down quick
.”
“So you really think you can drain enough to banish Vann Jeger in half an hour?”
“I wouldn’t have said so if I didn’t,” Marci replied with a huff, folding her arms over her chest. “Pulling in magic is only slow if you’re dealing with power that’s spread out. Give me a proper, concentrated source, like a dragon, and I can drain that puppy in minutes.”
Her example made him wince, but if there was anything Julius had learned to trust about Marci, it was her knowledge of magic. If she said she could do something, then she could. “Okay,” he said, running his hands through his hair. “I believe you, but that still means I’m going to have to keep Vann Jeger in the circle and distracted for thirty minutes, and I just don’t see how that’s going to work.”
“That part’s easy,” Amelia said. “We’ll just make you look like something else.”
At this point, Julius would have sworn nothing could surprise him anymore. And he would’ve been wrong. “What?”
His sister’s smile grew smug. “You might be at the bottom of the magical food chain, but injured or not, I’m a total boss. Just because I don’t have enough juice to open a portal right now doesn’t mean I can’t smother you in enough raw dragon power to make you look like the Quetzalcoatl himself. Vann Jeger will eat it up.”
“Okay, so I’ll look scary,” Julius said slowly. “How does that help me not die when he hits me?”
Amelia shrugged. “It won’t, so I suggest making sure that doesn’t happen.”
Julius could feel himself going pale, and his sister sighed. “It won’t be that bad,” she assured him. “Like most geologically ancient spirits, Vann Jeger’s old-fashioned. He prefers banter and drama over modern efficiency. Also, remember that you’ll look like the sort of super powerful dragon he’ll want to savor, not rush through. Between all that, keeping him talking for thirty minutes should be child’s play, especially for someone who talks as much as you do.”
“Thanks,” Julius grumbled. But though he still didn’t like Amelia’s plan in the least, he was starting to see how it could work. From what Marci had told him in the closet, Vann Jeger did seem like the type who could grandstand forever given a proper audience, and between his sister’s magic and Marci’s skill with illusions, he would definitely look the part. He still wasn’t optimistic about his own ability to keep an ancient spirit talking for thirty minutes straight, but it was definitely more viable than any scenario that required him to fight, which made this the best plan they had.
“Okay,” he said with a sigh. “I’m in. What do I have to do?”
Amelia’s face grew slightly terrifying. “Just hold still.”
That was the only warning Julius got before he was engulfed in fire.
***
It took almost five hours to get everything perfect. Or, at least, it took five hours to reach Marci’s definition of perfect. Julius had his own opinion of the situation.
“I feel ridiculous,” he growled, scuffing his feet on the workroom floor as he waited for Marci to finish packing her bag.
“But you look amazing,” Marci reminded him, looking him over for what had to be the hundredth time.
Even sulking like he was now, Julius looked absolutely incredible. As well he should, too, because the illusion Marci had done for him was quite possibly her best ever.
She’d covered him from head to toe, replacing his worn sneakers, t-shirt, and comfy jeans with pointed Italian leather shoes and a super expensive-looking dark gray power suit before topping the whole thing off with one of those perfectly styled messy haircuts you only saw on male models. But while that would have normally been enough, this was not a normal situation, and so Marci had gone over him again, adding lighting and shadow effects to bring out the angles of his face and body, ensuring that every side was now his good side. Finally, she’d spent an hour sharpening and refining his features, transforming the normally boyishly handsome Julius into an intimidatingly handsome, extremely draconic version of himself. But as much as Marci wanted to claim all the credit, what really took Julius to the next level was his magic, and that was all Amelia.
As promised, she’d shellacked Julius with her fire until he was positively radioactive with power. Even his seal was gone, buried under the layers of intense dragon magic that glittered like banked coals just waiting for a chance to burst back into flame. The smoldering burn of magic followed his every glance, and even standing perfectly still, energy radiated from his body like he was barely holding his fantastic powers in check.
Even knowing it was all fake, Marci still got a chill every time she looked his way. Between the magic and her illusion, Julius really did look every inch the ancient, terrifying dragon he was pretending to be. Now, if she could just get him to stop looking so miserable about it, everything would be perfect.
“Cheer up,” she said, tucking several cans of spell-ready spray paint into her bag. “You really do look fantastic.
He stared down at himself in disgust. “I look like a jerk.”
“That’s kind of the point,” she reminded him. “Last I heard, ancient dragons aren’t known for their kind and friendly demeanor.”
She turned in a circle, checking her lab one last time. When she was certain she hadn’t forgotten anything, she zipped up her bag and loaded it onto her shoulder, stopping just long enough to let Ghost, who’d been anxiously waiting on her desk, jump inside. “Okay,” she said when the spirit had vanished into her bulging sack of supplies. “I’m all set. Let’s go do a final check with Amelia, and then we can head out.”
“I’m still not comfortable leaving her here alone,” Julius said as they started down the stairs.
Marci shrugged. “It’s safer than bringing her with us. And anyway, she’s an ancient dragon. It’s not like she needs a babysitter. You should be more worried about her eating us out of house and home.”
When the tacos had run out, they’d ordered pizza. An hour later, that was gone, too. So was Marci’s entire fifth of emergency vodka, which was highly annoying. Amelia might be easier to get along with, but when it came to being a houseguest, she was even worse than Justin. At least he didn’t drink.
“She’s healing,” Julius said by way of an explanation. “And she did promise to buy you another bottle. An expensive one.”
Marci laughed, trying to imagine what an ancient, wealthy dragon like Amelia would consider “expensive” vodka. “I just hope I’m alive to enjoy it.”
She’d meant that as a joke, but Julius looked more dour than ever, which wouldn’t do at all. Their plan depended on him playing his role as the terrible and fearsome dragon, which was tough to pull off when you looked like a kicked puppy. Before she could think of something properly motivating to cheer him up, though, she spotted Amelia at the bottom of the stairs, wrapped in a bloody towel and holding herself up by the railing.
“Should you be up?” Julius asked, hurrying past Marci to help her.
“I’m not made of paper,” Amelia said, smacking his hands away. “I was just coming to ask if I could bum some new clothes. Not that blood-stained isn’t my style, but I usually prefer it to be someone else’s blood.”
“Sure,” Marci said. “I’m basically running a dragon clothing service at this point, anyway.” She handed her bag to Julius. “Would you mind putting this in the truck for me?”
“Do you even have keys for that hunk of junk?” he asked, tilting sideways as he slid her criminally heavy bag, complete with cat spirit poking his head through the zipper, onto his shoulder.
“Nope, but there’s a screwdriver in the ignition.”
Julius’s eyebrows shot up. Thankfully, though, he didn’t say anything more about her dalliances in car theft. He just waved and headed for the front door. Amelia watched him the whole way, her brows knitted.
“What?” Marci asked.
“Nothing,” Amelia replied. “We just did a bang up job. I never would have expected it, given the material we had to work with, but ruthless is a sur
prisingly good look on Julius. Mother would have a heart attack if she saw him like that.”
Marci started back up the stairs. “And I suppose that’s part of the appeal for you?”
“How well you understand dragons,” Amelia said with a grin, using the wooden banister to pull herself along as she followed Marci up to her room. “Also, I have to say you’re doing a fantastic job at controlling your fear. You don’t smell afraid at all to me.”
“I’ve been too busy to be afraid,” she said, digging into her dresser in search of something that might fit yet another crazy tall dragoness. “I’m sure it’ll all catch up with me later.”
“I wonder,” Amelia said, sitting carefully on the footboard of Marci’s bed so as not to get blood on the comforter. “Ghost was in the bag you handed Julius. I assume that means you’re taking him with you?”
“I can’t leave him,” Marci said. “He’s my cat.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Why? Do you think I shouldn’t?”
Amelia pursed her lips. “I’m not sure, to be honest. He seems very loyal, which isn’t something I’d have expected, and I can’t imagine he’d make things worse.”
“But?” Marci prompted.
The dragon sighed. “Remember what I told you on my island? Mortal Spirits draw their magic from mortal concepts. That’s what makes them so incredibly powerful, but it’s also their greatest flaw, because most global concepts humans share aren’t the sort of things you want to be bound to. Until Ghost remembers his name, there’s no way of knowing what his domain actually is, but just going off what I’ve observed of him so far, I don’t think it’ll be something warm and cuddly.”
After what had happened in the alley, Marci didn’t either, but she did believe that whatever Ghost turned out to be, he would still be himself, and he would still care about her. “Don’t worry,” she said, flashing the dragon a confident smile. “I can handle it.”
“I’m not saying you can’t,” Amelia replied. “Normally. But you’re going into a situation where your life will be at risk and you’ll be drawing enormous amounts of magic off of one of the biggest spirits in the world. That’s a lot of temptation for a newborn Mortal Spirit on the edge of guessing his name. I don’t want to lose you both just because someone got desperate.”
