Draft of Dragons

by T S Paul

  Robert and the Were Nation were different. Humans kept civilization running. They were what pushed technological advancement to where it was today. Saving them was paramount.

  He’d sworn unbreakable oaths to not reveal how and where the Council met. So driving to Maine was the only option. But he really wished he could just take them all through the Gate system. It would be so much easier and timely.

  “We’re on our way, Marcella. It’s eighteen hours, so hold on as long as you can,” Robert muttered into the wind. He was coming.

  Chapter 17

  The fourth son of the Emperor, Pulao, surveyed the battlefield. His Witch, Esta, had done as he’d asked. All the viable dead were now erect and soldiers in his new army. His younger brother, Bixi, was reanimated as well. That fact might not sit well with the Emperor, but Pulao’s orders were to break through, no matter the cost.

  “Esta, you will assume control of the dead and attack first. Once you’ve established a beachhead, the humans will reinforce you.” Pulao directed. “Waste little time in the city itself. Earth is our goal. There will be time for bonfires later.”

  With a mighty roar, the Dragon Prince shot flame into the artificial sky like a beacon from Hel. “Go!”

  Looking down, the Prince surveyed what remained of his own command. The dead were on the move, but the Dracaena remained. Eyeing one of his chief lieutenants, he made his commands known. “Gather the living. We will attack upon the heels of the dead.”

  Skythes, son of Campe, was the eldest of the remaining monsters on the field. Watching his brothers and sisters as they were fed into the slaughterhouse of Meggido hadn’t bothered him. His kind were the might and fury of the Draconic Empire. “Creatures of legend” is what his mother had called his family. Seeing dead and walking versions of them unsettled him.

  “Master, these...things. Are we keeping them among us? They are not part of us any longer,” he asked Pulao. His kind might be killers, but they at least ate what they killed.

  Dark clouds of brimstone-laced smoke began to pour from the Dragon’s nose. “You dare to question me?” Pulao thundered. “Do as I command, or you can join them.”

  The Dracaena ducked his serpentine head for a moment, then said, “As you command.” It was the only answer suitable for the Master, but he himself hated it. They might be servants now, but his pedigree included some of the great ones. Scylla and Charybdis were considered ancestors, as well. How a Maelstrom could be related was a question for the Gods, but his mother had always insisted. She was a monster older than time itself. One of the Titans.

  Quiet was the simplest description Esta could think of to explain her new army. Following her new Master’s orders, she directed them with her mind toward the Gate and home. Home. If she hadn’t been gone so long, she wouldn’t feel this way. Her life and everything leading up to this point had been one giant pain-filled mistake. Now that she had the power to correct it, she wasn’t sure if she could, or would.

  As a whole, the Strega Witches craved power over the world. Their allegiance to the God Set was their downfall. If they’d been paying more attention they might have even seen it coming. Finding and using the ‘Book of Undying’ might have been their goal, but it wasn’t the God’s. He wanted the power associated with the book itself, not the spells within.

  The very moment her fingers brushed across the binding, she was a slave to the book. An entity resided inside all the copies of the book itself. It was made of purest evil. Set might be a powerful God in his own right, but the beings that created the books were super-powered in comparison. They were the personification of the dark itself. Many of the spells within the work could rip the souls from the living and harness their power. The Strega didn’t know what hit them.

  Joining the Demon invasion was Esta’s only chance of survival, even if it was involuntary. The Book was in total control and was using her as a battery to direct its actions among the living.

  Leaving Earth hadn’t been part of her plan, but when the opportunity arose she took it. Barely awake, disoriented, and barely in control of the Magick she was born with, she’d asked to stay in Draconia once she realized that the Book held no power over her there.

  How big of a mistake that had been was indescribable. Dragons only cared for themselves and fought eternally over territory and wealth. The wealth of nations and of planets. Tiamat, their lost Goddess and Queen, ruled with an iron claw. Power was hers to command. Without her to mediate, chaos ensued.

  Lord Leomaris, fifth in line for the throne, assumed control of the Empire more than a thousand years after her loss. He and his sons beat back all competitors and established a rule of terror that swept the universe.

  Battles were still fought, though. The brothers nine each held territory and wanted more. Gladiatorial games decided the outcome of many conflicts. Humans, Dracaena, and creatures never seen upon Earth battled at the behest of the Dragons.

  Witches were not exempt. Esta was forced to prove her worth, book or no book. It was by her skill alone that she won a place by Pulao’s side. Conquering Earth was simply payment. Overcoming the book, however, would be the challenge. Her army could handle the rest.

  Sweeping forward, the Army of the Dead pushed past the iron gates and training grounds of the Legion and walked into the village square. The massive building that held the Library of Alexandria reached high into the sky. More than two thousand years of history was contained inside, and Esta could almost feel every Magical tome. Staring at the doors she almost directed her steed toward them, but before Bixi could take a single step, one of the dead Legionnaires crossed the protective ward.

  Kaboom!

  A lightning bolt came down from the sky, incinerating the dead man and pushing several others away. Otherworld’s sky rolled and rumbled as the Gods of Light showed their displeasure.

  Esta patted the monstrous zombie Dragon under her on the shell that covered his upper body. “That is a mistake at the moment. Do you think you would survive a hit like that?”

  Bixi’s mind was too far gone to answer her. The Book’s spell animated the dead and allowed the user to give them only basic instructions. Higher brain function wasn’t possible without real Necromantic Magick.

  “Once we control the Gate, we’ll give it a go. I suspect they can’t direct that much energy if I send the entire army against them,” Esta mused to herself. Then, to her army, she shouted, “To the Gate! We have Witches to kill and a world to ravage!”

  Inside the library, both Mack and Owl visibly shivered as the after effects of the bolt subsided. They were caught in mid-conversation from the attack.

  “By the Gods what was that!” Mack cried out. Every single hair on his body was standing erect and he felt as though he’d licked a light socket. Again. It had only been the one time.

  Owl squawked as feathers fell from his wings. “The wards.”

  “They are coming, then. Shall I organize the wounded? The doors should hold, but will the windows?” Mack asked his eternal companion.

  “The Goddess only blasted something once. We’re tied directly to the wards as a way of predicting where the attack will come. If they do attack, I doubt you will survive this,” Owl projected into Mack’s brain.

  “Me? What about you, you feathered demon! Why do I have to die?” Mack cried out.

  “It won’t just be you. The power will cook me as well. Food for thought,” Owl clicked.

  “Yuck. That was a bad pun if I’ve ever heard one. They are headed to Earth, then. Should we see if they all go or just wait here?” Mack asked.

  “One guess,” Owl responded.

  “Figures. Any idea where I left that Athenian wine we found? I could use a drink right about now,” Mack lamented.

  “Maine at last!” Rob cried out as they flew past another tourist destination sign.

  “That’s like the tenth sign in the past hour you’ve said that to. We did say that Briarwood was way up by the Canadian border, right? It’s starting to get a bit
old,” Beatrice remarked. The older woman was upside down in her seat with her feet in the air. Riding this far and fast in a stolen van was wearing everyone down.

  “Must you sit like that? I’ve got old lady feet in my dreams now,” Alex complained.

  “Well now, what else you dreaming about, big boy? Want some sugar to go with that too?” Betsy smooched her lips at the now cringing special operations man.

  “Girls, leave the kids alone. We’re almost there,” Madeline said. “There are a couple of largish hills on either side of the highway, a natural blockade point. Briarwood and The Garden are just beyond it.” She looked briefly over her shoulder. They’d been taking turns driving, and she had chosen the final stretch. Marcella Blackmore wasn’t a fan of the former FBI Director, but she wasn’t an enemy.

  Amber grunted as Rob shook her awake. She blinked at the upside-down woman and closed her eyes again. “Don’t wanna know.”

  Rob chuckled and pulled the blanket back over his boss and girlfriend. “I know we discussed this...yesterday or so. But how can a garden be alive?”

  “Plants, buddy. They produce the air we breathe,” Alex remarked.

  Rob gave his teammate a withering look. “I know that. How is it an entity? You said they just planted things in it several centuries ago. If I take really old soil and plant a bush in it and give it to my mom would she gain a talking houseplant?”

  Both Bs snorted and laughed. “No.”

  “Ignore my assistants. We discussed this already,” Madeline said. “The Garden is basically an Earth Elemental that inhabits the valley. Verity Blackmore, the town’s founder, created the Garden from plants and cuttings she’d brought from Europe. According to what Agatha has let slip over the years, there was a similar place such as this in either Germany or Austria in the 1500s. It was either destroyed or taken over by others, and the family had to move on.”

  “That’s where you lose me, the 1500s. How was it that Verity founded the town in the 1600s and was still kicking around in 1914? Is she like Wonder Girl or something? Amber and I saw that movie,” Rob asked.

  “No cinematography involved here,” Betsy replied for Madeline. “You forget that Witches are a species of Paranormal. They may look and act human, but they aren’t. I’m sure you know Amber’s story about her husband. It’s a rare Witch that marries outside of her kind. Now, all the Paranormals can breed with each other, the humanoid ones at least. The results are usually sterile and either or.”

  “Either or? What the hell does that mean?” Alex asked.

  “Either a Witch, or a shifter, or whatever the parents were. You may know about the army tests done in the 1920s–1930s where they dropped Trolls from planes?” Beatrice looked around her at the faces of the team. “Well, they tried a few crossbreeding experiments as well. The Witches Council put a major stop to it as soon as they found out, but Arcane continued them.”

  “For real?” Rob asked the much older operative.

  “Yes. Arcane was and still is a black site. Total secrecy. The generals wanted super soldiers but once they realized it wasn’t possible they cancelled the programs,” Betsy replied.

  “That’s horrific! How could they do that in good conscience?” Amber shook her head in disgust.

  “You have to look at the time period. Humans were scared, and then there were all the Demons. People were willing to look the other way in order to get what they wanted. The Magical Act of 1957 put an end to almost everything related to the past. Arcane did away with things as well. Except for the Demons and other creatures. They still have a few experiments running around on the lower levels,” Madeline answered.

  “And the subjects? I assume there were children from some of the experiments,” Alex asked. He was watching the Bs very carefully.

  Beatrice gave her sister and best friend a very long look before answering. “Most were set free.”

  Alex shifted in his seat. Opening his mouth, he started to ask the obvious question. “What about…”

  “There’s the gap, we’re there.” Madeline yelled, interrupting Alex’s train of thought. “Just a couple more minutes and we’ll be there.”

  The moment the van crossed into the valley the roads took a turn for the worse.

  “The hell? I feel like my teeth are about to rattle out of my brain!” Alex shouted. There was a vibration that wouldn’t quit coming from the road and the tires. Every couple of seconds the van would hit a pothole, making everyone jump in their seats.

  Madeline could feel every bump and rattle in her bones as they vibrated down the hill and into the edge of the town. “They must have some harsh winters up here to screw up the roads this bad!”

  “Is that the Garden you were talking about?” Rob pressed his nose up against the glass like a little kid.

  “It is. It covers this entire end of the valley and up the hills,” Madeline replied. She had one eye on the road and the other on all the vegetables and other plants in the fields.

  “Maddie, look out!” Betsy screamed as she saw a man standing in the middle of the road.

  Focusing on the road in front of her suddenly, all Madeline saw was a scarred and swollen face, covered with what appeared to be blood. She wasn’t sure of anything as the van struck the figure with a loud thump!

  “Aaaa!” Madeline yelled. The van lurched to one side as the tires rolled over the man with a bump, bump. Madeline slammed on the brakes.

  “Did you kill him?” Amber asked. She climbed over Rob and Alex and tried to slide open the door.

  “I’ll get it,” Madeline said, and she jumped out to open the door from the outside. “He’s got to be dead. Impact alone would kill a normal human. Getting squished by the tires…”

  “We’ll check.” Amber approached the body in the road. The man, if it was a man, lay face down and appeared to be wearing military gear of some kind.

  “Is he dead?” Madeline asked.

  “Checking…” Amber crouched and laid her hand on the man’s leg. He twitched and then kicked his legs. “He’s still alive! Grab the first aid kit!”

  Alex and Rob jumped out of the van. “Do we have one of those?” Rob asked.

  Touching the man’s shoulder as gently as she could, Amber leaned in a bit closer. “Sir, just lie still. We’ll help you.”

  The body on the road started to shake as if it was having a seizure of some kind.

  “Just lie still, sir.” Amber reached out to touch the man again when he surged up with a roar. Amber fell backwards in shock, instinctively casting both a shield and fireball spell.

  The Zombie swept one clawed hand out at the fallen Mage and it hit the shield with a roar. Then it charged the next person it saw. Madeline.

  Boom!

  The Zombie jerked sideways but staggered forward.

  Boom! Boom!

  One round took off the creature’s head in a spray of goo. The other cut the legs from beneath it. Beatrice cocked her black combat shotgun again. “Just like a video game. Gotta take the head.”

  Chapter 18

  A sort of rippling washed over me as I stood talking to members of the Coven. Both of my bracelets lit up as if a hidden switch was thrown. I held up my hand and stared off into space, concentrating. “They’re here.”

  The moment I spoke, there was ripping sort of noise echoing across the valley. Usually, the Garden Gate opened just outside Grandmother’s actual garden gate. This one seemed to be somewhere out in the middle, judging by the flash of light that followed the noise.

  My grandmother looked at me in shock and asked, “How did you know?”

  “The bracelets. By assuming them I took on the job of guardian, of sorts. The Garden is for me to protect. Those who breach the Gates are my enemies. That’s what Agnes thinks anyway. There’s a great deal of lore about both guardians and their weapons.” I held up my arms with the intensely glowing bracelets. Egyptian hieroglyphics, once seldom seen, were now shining. “It’s not only my power they affect.”

  “When this is o
ver we’re going to have another of those long conversations,” Grams directed. “Too much has happened lately to you. We need to reevaluate your powers. But first let’s kick some Dragon ass!”

  “Agreed!” I motioned to the Witches around me. “Everyone ready?”

  The Blackmore Coven was a motley group normally, but faced with an invasion, they were more than a bit eccentric. Almost all the women were dressed for combat, wearing uniforms that displayed the history of the country. Agnes Pickleberry wore an outfit straight out of the Spanish American War, complete with field hat and Springfield rifle. I’d thought Teddy Roosevelt’s unit was all men, but I could be mistaken. I knew from my recent training that Agnes’s glamour abilities were excellent, though. She might’ve been with the unit. Witches did live both extended and extraordinary lives.

  Covens were traditionally twelve plus one in the inner circle and a much larger number of people in the outer rings. Grandmother’s was no different. The oldest and most experienced Witches, called the Elders, controlled the inner ring and were Grams’ commanders in battle. All the rest were foot soldiers. Men included.

  Witches weren’t only women. Besides the obvious, males played a huge part in our society. They were our protectors and the ones we leaned on in times of trouble.

  Grams gave orders like a seasoned commander. “Agatha, I need you to take the second and third circles into the Garden through my gate. Build a wall surrounding this part of the house and grounds. If the house falls...If it falls, Agnes’s shop is the fallback position. I’d really like to keep whatever hits us out of the town. But you know as well as I do that wishes don’t always come true.”