It took them the better part of an hour to muscle the thing down into the Sanctum. Gi-gi lay there watching as they wheeled the trolley up beside her bed, the plaster cast still wrapped in plastic.
Her wizened hand reached out to touch it, and his thin lips twitched. "Thank you, Persephone. Thank you all. We can begin work in a few days, but I imagine my great granddaughter wants some rest."
"Yes, please," Persephone said as the others turned to go. Sleep…It's over…I can sleep. Persephone rounded the bed to lay down on the other gurney, rolling up her sleeve.
"Just relax, cuz." Reggie pulled an IV pole over and swabbed her forearm for the needle. "You'll be yourself in no time."
"Persephone?"
She turned to look at her great grandmother. "Yes?" Please, just let me sleep… A needle pierced her arm.
"I have a proposal I would like you to consider." Gi-gi's wizened hand patted the plaster-encased specimen of the dragon, and she felt a cold chill trickle down the back of her neck.
"I don't think…" Cool fluid rushed into her arm, and darkness enclosed her mind.
Epilogue
Quite a story." Sergeant Jasper leaned back in his chair and sipped his beer, looking around at the first honest to God spring day they'd seen yet this year.
"Yes, it is." Hutch sipped his own beer. "And not likely to ever make the evening news." He'd told Jasper everything, even about his one single night with Aleksi. It still haunted him.
"No, I don't suppose it will, but it's nice to know the truth." Jasper stared up at the startlingly blue sky, unreal after months of winter gray.
A team of industrious gardeners was planting seedlings in the long boxes that edged the Daedalus' rooftop. The splashes of green looked out of place, alien to Hutch's winter-attuned eyes. Spring was supposed to mean life, renewal, growth. He felt none of that.
"People like Johansen, or whatever her name is, manufacture truth."
"Yeah." Jasper sipped his beer again and sighed. "And that really just stinks like a ton of shit, doesn't it?"
"Yes, it does."
"Do you think they'll ever do anything with that…whatever?"
"With Penningly as an example, they'll be careful, but eventually…yes, I think they probably will try to use it for something." That scared him more than anything. "Which also stinks like a ton of shit."
"Yes, it does." Jasper's eyes slid over to look at Hutch sidelong. "What about Aleksi?"
"Vanished completely." Hutch tried to sound casual, though he doubted he fooled the cop. "I just hope she's someplace safe."
"Going to be hard to hide her…condition when summer comes." He gestured to a few of the other patrons, dressed in light jackets and dresses. "No overcoats or hats."
"I suppose." Hutch had been thinking about that, too, wondering how she would survive. Unfortunately, he hadn't been lying; he'd not seen her in the three weeks since Derrick was killed. He needed to change the subject. "How's your partner?"
"Good, but it'll be a while until he's recovered from the surgery. Penningly really did a job on him. Plastic surgeon had a field day."
"Good that he's okay." Hutch was glad someone would recover from this.
"So, you're life's pretty much back to normal, huh?" Jasper waved to a passing waitress.
"Yep. Boring old professor with a boring old career and way too much work on his hands." He tipped his beer and drained the last of it. "Speaking of which, I better get back."
"Let me buy you another, Doc. It's a beautiful spring day, and the view is lovely." He smiled at the pretty waitress as she reached across the table for Hutch's empty glass.
"Thanks, but no." Hutch reached for his wallet. "I really do need to do some work this afternoon. I've got two new students to interview."
"On a Saturday?" Jasper beat him to the draw and dropped a twenty on the waitress's tray. "I've got this. Keep it."
"Thanks!" She smiled at him and walked off.
"Yep. Both will be entering the graduate program in the fall, so they'll be coming on board in a few months." He stood and stretched. "Got a lot of work to catch up on."
"Yeah, I guess we all do." Jasper stood and held out a hand. "Call if you ever need someone to shoot the shit with, Doc."
"I will, Tony, and thanks again." He shook Jasper's hand. "Sorry it had to turn out this way."
"I'm not." He sounded genuine. "Case closed, bad guy dead, no loose ends. Who could ask for more?"
Loose ends…
Hutch could think of one thing more he could ask for but wasn't about to bring it up. He settled for a smile and a nod and followed Jasper down the stairs and out of the restaurant. They parted with another handshake and a wave, and Hutch walked casually through campus to his office. The weather was hardly balmy, but it was clear and warm enough to prompt a deluge of students to spread blankets and lawn chairs out on the quads.
Spring, he thought. Life, growth… His thoughts spiraled as they had been doing a lot lately. The next thing he knew he was reliving the best night of his life, the night he could never truly relive, the love he would never experience again.
He navigated to his office in a haze, but the familiar surroundings and more work than he could possibly finish soon diverted his thoughts. He'd been working way too much lately, but it was the only thing he had to stave off depression. The two interviews went well; the students were eager, smart, enthusiastic, and grateful for having a project to jump right into.
But they were not Aleksi Rychenkna.
At five PM he packed up his computer, grabbed his jacket and left his office. Are you alive, Aleksi? he wondered as he shouldered his bag and headed for the parking structure. The place was virtually empty, and once again, his thoughts drifted. This was where Bob died, where Penningly murdered him. He barely noticed when he reached his car, staring at it like he didn't recognize it as his.
He didn't even have his keys out.
"You're going senile, Hutch." He fumbled through his pack.
"No, you're not."
Hutch froze. He looked around, but there was no one, just shadows. But that voice… Had he imagined it? It had been different, but hers. He was sure of it.
"Aleksi?"
No answer. Not a sign of her. Had he imagined it? Maybe. A memory of her dropping from the shadows like a wraith revisited him, and he realized that if she didn't want to be seen, he wouldn't see her. But if she had spoken…
"Or I really am going crazy."
Hutch found his keys and opened the car door. He had his bag on the passenger seat and was putting the key in the ignition when he saw a folded yellow post-it note tucked under his windshield wiper. He was out of the car and had it in his hand in a heartbeat. He peeled it apart and peered at the note.
"Fifty-fifty or ninety-ten?" he read aloud.
He glanced around again but there was still no sign of her. The note was from Aleksi, without a doubt, but why be so cryptic? He looked at the note again and thought about it. Was she watching him? Worried about him? Lately, he had been closer to her professed percentages of ninety-ten.
Hiding behind work. He knew he was, but also knew why he was hiding.
Aleksi was hiding, too, from the eyes of those who thought of her as an asset, their asset. They were undoubtedly watching him as well. Was that why she had stayed away?
"We can't hide forever." He slipped the note in his pocket. "And my door is always open."
Without another look around, he got in his car and drove home. He had too much to think about during the drive, too much to feed the depression that he knew was getting worse. He dumped his keys in the bowl and went to the kitchen to let Iggy out of his cage for their evening ritual. The iguana patrolled the kitchen floor while Hutch chopped fruit and vegetables for their evening snack, but when he looked down, the ungrateful lizard was nowhere to be seen.
"Iggy?" He put the bowl down and rattled the cage, which usually brought the lizard running.
Nothing.
"Iggy, where the
hell…"
He looked in all the iguana's favorite places, under the couch, by the big potted bamboo in the corner, in the laundry nook, but he was nowhere to be found.
"Fine. Come out when you're hungry, then." He picked a few pieces of grape from the bowl and popped them in his mouth, opened the fridge and grabbed a beer, then took his computer bag to the office. He plugged the laptop in and left his beer beside it while he went to change into his weekend clothes. He hung his jacket in the big walk-in closet without bothering to turn on the light and kicked off his shoes. A little scratch from the back of the closet caught his ear, and he realized where Iggy must have gone.
"You shouldn't hide back here, Iggy. I'm likely to step on you."
"He's not hiding."
Hutch's heart skipped a beat. He peered into the shadows, reaching for the light switch.
"Please, Hutch. No lights." Something rustled and he caught a glint of the diffuse light from the shaded window reflecting from her golden eyes. "Iggy might not be hiding, but I am."
He squinted, his eyes adjusting slowly to the gloom, and saw her hunkered down in the corner. Aleksi held the Iguana in her arms, scratching under his chin with her claws.
"He misses you." His voice came out scratchy. He cleared his throat. "I miss you."
"You shouldn't." She stood, taller than he remembered, but didn't move from the darkest corner of the closet. "I'm not me anymore, Hutch."
"Bullshit."
She ignored his comment. "And they're still looking for me." Her voice sounded strange, a little slurred, huskier. "I shouldn't have come here. They probably still have your place bugged." She started for the door.
"I don't care." He stepped into her way. "They won't hurt you, and they can't touch me."
"Why not?"
He didn't know which statement she was questioning, so he answered both. "Johansen said that you were an asset, remember? They don't waste assets. They can't touch me because I've made sure that doing so would be more trouble for them than it would be worth." He smiled at that; he might not like Persephone very much, but he had no doubt that if he suddenly disappeared, the files he had given her would end up on the front page of every newspaper in New England.
"You're not safe, Hutch. Neither of us is safe."
"Life isn't safe, Aleksi. Now put Iggy down, because I'm going to give you a hug and I don't think he'll like it."
"Hutch, I…" She took a step back toward her dark corner. "You shouldn't."
He reached for the light switch and flipped it on. They both blinked, and he saw that the changes had continued. Her face was even more angular, the ridge over her eyes more pronounced, but he could still see her there beneath the mask. There were tears on her golden-scaled cheeks, and fear in her eyes. He reached out a hand and brushed the dark garment she wore like a voluminous poncho.
"Please, Hutch. Don't…"
"Why not?"
"Because it's…"
"Not safe?"
"Yes."
"I don't want to be safe, Aleksi. I want to be your friend." He gripped her shoulders and looked into her large, yellow eyes. "Now put down the lizard and give me a hug. I've got a two-pound porterhouse in the freezer with your name on it, and a bottle of old vine Zinfandel in the chiller that we are going to share."
"That sounds good."
"Which part, the hug, the steak, or the wine?"
"The friend part." She stepped back and put Iggy down. "I could use one."
"You've got one, Aleksi." Their embrace was awkward, her membranous wings got in the way, but they got it sorted out in the end. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, warming his neck. Their hearts beat against one another, inches apart, slowing to a steady, warm cadence.
It wasn't safe.
Nothing was safe.
But it felt good.
Acknowledgments
Many thanks to my wife, Anne, for her intimate knowledge of the Boston Area, for dragging me on foot throughout Boston's back bay, Cambridge, and the Harvard campus, as well as her expertise in genetics.
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About the Author
Born and raised in Oregon, Chris met his wife and soulmate, Anne, while attending graduate school in Texas. Since then they have been gaming together since 1985, sailing together since 1988, married since 1989, and writing together off and on throughout their relationship. Most astonishingly, they have not killed each other during the creation or editing of any of their stories…although it was close a few times. Since 2009, the couple has been sailing and writing full-time aboard their beloved sailboat, Mr Mac. They return to the US every summer for conventions, always happy to sign copies of their books and talk with fans. Visit Jaxbooks.com for more.
Also by Chris A. Jackson
From Jaxbooks
A Soul for Tsing
Deathmask
Blood Sea Tales
The Pirate's Scourge
The Pirate's Truth (coming 2019)
The Pirate's Curse (coming 2020)
Weapon of Flesh Series
The Cornerstones Trilogy
(with Anne L. McMillen-Jackson)
The Cheese Runners Trilogy
(novellas – also on Audible)
From Dragon Moon Press
The Scimitar Seas Novels
From Paizo Publishing
(also available as audiobooks)
Pirate’s Honor
Pirate’s Promise
Pirate’s Prophecy
From Privateer Press
Blood & Iron (ebook novella)
Watery Graves
From Fantasy Flight Games
The Deep Gate (Lovecraftian horror novella)
Copyright © 2019 by Chris A. Jackson
Cover Design by Melissa McArthur
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any real person, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Dragon Dreams Page 41
