by T. A. White
Another two legger entered behind the prey. She growled and hissed when he walked towards her. He seemed familiar in a way the others weren’t. She sniffed the air. His smell was odd, not human. Her eyes popped open. He was like her. The other recognized him and supplied a name, Ryu. His eyes were sad as he watched the dragon pace away from him. She felt threatened by him in a way the others hadn’t made her feel. Twin instincts clamored at her to both escape and go to him.
A stream of fire slammed into her side, eating through her scales as if they were tissue paper. She cowered away not understanding what was happening. Her muscles cramped painfully, and she convulsed. The pain was coming from inside.
You must switch back, a voice told her.
The dragon shook its head not willing to go back into its prison yet. The other might not let her back out.
Tatum Alegra Winters, you must rise to the surface, or you will both die, the voice said speaking directly to the other.
No. It’s my turn. She can’t come back.
Will you kill the person who saved you? the voice asked calmly. She gave up everything for you. Is this how you will repay her?
The dragon drooped. It was never her intention to harm the other. On the contrary, she hoped only to protect her. She just didn’t want to be chained again. Pain was making it hard to think, growing until she relinquished her grasp on the body just to escape it.
Tate was in a white space, her surroundings hazy and indistinct.
Was she dead? You’d think death would have seating at least. Her legs were tired. Scratch that, her entire body ached. She wanted to sit down. An armchair appeared next to her, and she settled gratefully down. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.
“Should have known I’d find you sitting down,” somebody said to her.
Tate blinked at the brown-eyed man sitting beside her in an exact replica of her chair. His hair was longer than she remembered and a bit shaggier, his face a little older, but his eyes were that same honey brown.
“You never were one to stand when you could sit,” he continued.
“No, I wasn’t,” she said softly, tracing his features with her eyes. It had been so long. There were so many things she wanted to say. “Am I dead?”
He handed her a beer. “Depends on your definition of dead.”
She glared at him. She’d never been one for philosophy and dead was dead. “Dead. As in not living.”
He considered, rubbing his nose in thought. “A little of both, I’d say.”
She rolled her eyes. Not helpful.
“Changing forms like you did, in that situation especially, put a lot of stress on both your and Ilith’s bodies. If Ai hadn’t forced a change you’d be all the way dead by now.”
Tate arched an eyebrow and looked around. She didn’t buy it. “Where are we then, if not the afterlife?”
“Well,” he drawled. “That’s a little hard to explain.”
“Try.”
He slapped his leg and threw his head back to laugh. “I’ve missed you,” he finally said when he could draw breath. “God, how I’ve missed you.”
She’d missed him too though she hadn’t known it at the time. That other world felt more and more like a dream the longer she stayed here.
“We’re in a little midway point I created,” he said, answering her question. “This isn’t the person you knew by the way, just a shade I left in case you ever made it here.”
Tate took a deep breath about to say something she’d been saying far too often lately. “I don’t understand.”
“I know.” He looked lovingly at her, his face filled with yearning. “There’s a lot I can’t explain right now. You have to put it together yourself, or we risk irreparably damaging your mind.” He looked away. “I’ll confess there are some things I’d prefer you never remembered.” He looked down at his hands where they were clasped in his lap. “I wish things could have been different. We wronged you terribly and for that I’m sorry.”
Tate parted her lips about to say something, anything to take that look of sorrow from his face.
He leaned forward, spearing her with an intense gaze. “You have to make a decision. Right now you’re hovering on the brink between life and death. This is where all the female dragons before have died.”
“So I am dead.” Tate didn’t feel the fear or anger she would have expected. Instead she felt a sort of acceptance. Peace, even.
“Not yet,” the man held up a hand. “You have to choose to go back or continue on.”
“Hm,” Tate leaned her head back against the chair. What was back there for her? Was there anything? She felt so tired. All she wanted was rest and here, there was peace. She knew if she went back there’d be uncertainty, pain, heartache.
Faces flashed through her mind. Of Night playing with his cubs, Dewdrop giving a relieved smile as he helped her into the boat. Of the concern on Ryu’s face when he’d seen her injured. She shook her head. Was that really enough? She’d earned a break from all the craziness. She’d accomplished the mission and saved the boy. That she could remember. There’d be no war now. Everything was done.
Cool fingers turned Tate’s face toward his. Solemn eyes met her own. “There is nothing I’d like more for you to join me on this side, but there are people who will need you there. Dark times are coming. They’re going to need all the help they can get.”
She leaned her forehead against his and cupped his hand where it rested against hers. He was right, but it hurt to admit it. Those faces flashed before her again and this time she didn’t turn away from them. She let them draw her back, to pull her into her body and the waking world.
“Go back, baby,” he whispered giving her a light kiss on her hairline. “We’ll all be waiting when you’re done.”
She smiled shakily at him. “At least one good thing has come out of this,” she said holding on to this last moment as she felt herself being tugged back to her body. “I’ve got my past back.”
He smiled sadly at her, fading slowly into the white.
“Tate!” Ryu shouted, running to her side as the dragon folded away and she took its place. No time had passed here while she was in the half world. Already the memories of her past were fading.
Blood covered her from head to toe, from wounds large and small. His hands fluttered over her trying to find a place to touch that wouldn’t hurt her. “You should have waited, you stupid girl.”
“Always with the name calling,” Tate responded faintly.
“You’re awake.” He sounded relieved. He pulled her head into his lap and stroked her hair back from her face. His hands were shaking but gentle as they rubbed blood off her cheek. It felt soothing. Tate was too exhausted to put up her customary fight. He leaned over her and put his head against hers, his shoulders shaking slightly. “I thought I lost you.” His voice was so faint she couldn’t tell if she’d heard him or not.
Her eyes slid shut.
“Tate!”
A voice called her back from where she rested on the verge of unconsciousness.
“Dewdrop?” she smiled up at him as he slid to his knees next to her.
Dewdrop changed his impromptu hug to a pat on her hand at the deep rumbling growl from Ryu. “You came. I can’t believe you came.”
Tears plopped down onto her hand, and Dewdrop’s shoulders shook from his soundless sobs. She shifted her hand and grabbed onto his. “Of course I came. You’re not going to escape from me that easily.”
“How did you get here so quick?” Tate asked Ryu. It was a struggle to focus.
“You’re friend Ai, the minor goddess, shortened our path,” Ryu said gravely.
“She’s not a goddess,” Tate responded automatically, her eyes were sliding shut without her permission.
How rude, Ai chuckled in her mind.
Voices murmured above her head as Ryu turned to address someone behind him.
“I survived and rescued the boys,” Tate told her. She couldn’t help but feel she’d proved th
e woman wrong.
So you did, was the amused response. Barely.
That’s all that counts, Tate thought before her thought slid away on a cloud.
I am glad you got to meet him, Ai said.
Me too, Tate thought vaguely. We’ll have to talk later; I’m fading fast.
As you wish.
There was something important Tate needed to remember. It was the last thing keeping her awake. If only she could remember.
“Ryu?”
He cradled his head in his hands and glared down at her. “Why are you still awake? You need to sleep.”
“But-“
A fragrant herb was shoved under Tate’s nose. The last thing she saw was Ai appearing next to the boy and then a blue light rushed from him to her. Then of it’s own volition, her mind slid sideways and the dark spun up to claim her.
Chapter Twenty
The world came into focus in snatches before fading back into a blurry inconsistency full of vague shapes and sounds, until one day Tate opened her eyes and focused on the unfamiliar ceiling above her. She studied it with a detached curiosity, feeling numb. The events in the tunnel had haunted her dreams, and it was disorienting to wake safe and sound in a bed.
She lifted an arm that felt much heavier than normal. Her wounds had been bandaged while she was out. She must have been hurt worse than she thought because the pain invaded deep into her muscles. She welcomed the pain, letting it distract her from other, darker thoughts.
“You’re awake,” a man said.
Tate rolled her head to look at the man seated in a chair beside her bed. He wasn’t familiar, so she didn’t speak instead watching him dispassionately.
This was obviously not the response he expected, but he didn’t let that deter him. He let the silence build between them. Used to the authority his power gave him he couldn’t understand why this girl seemed so obviously uninterested in him. Most upon seeing a strange person, and him especially, by their bed had some sort of reaction, whether it was happiness or terror. Never this blank disinterest.
He’d heard that the girl often didn’t respond in a way people expected her to but had dismissed such claims as irrelevant. Now though, he found himself intrigued.
“I’m the imperial inspector appointed to look into the events of the Castle Pointe Tunnels,” he said.
Tate blinked slowly and turned her head away. She was tired. Not physically tired, for her body told her she’d been asleep for quite a while. Mentally, though, she was exhausted, her thinking processes slow. For once her mind wasn’t racing with thoughts or questions. It was content to simply exist in a tranquil contentment that didn’t really require her to think.
Fire raced up her arm threatening her peaceful state. Tate hissed and tried to draw her arm away. The inspector had grabbed it, right on the wound and held on tight.
“Let go,” Tate snapped.
“Ah, there you are,” he said cheerfully, not letting up. “The Isis root tends to clog thinking when someone just wakes up. A little pain goes a long way to relieving it.”
“So you grabbed a wounded person’s arm?” Tate asked. The bubble of peace she’d been in had drifted away, and she was back in the real world, feeling every wound mentally and physically. She felt brittle as if the events in the tunnel had stripped her defenses down and left her nerves exposed.
“You didn’t seem inclined to answer my questions otherwise,” he pointed out.
“Maybe you should have taken the hint, then.”
He sighed and leaned back in his chair. He was glad to see a bit more color in her face and the numbness of before had been replaced with a little life. Her eyes were quite pretty when they spat fire.
“I don’t think you understand how much trouble you’re in,” he said. “Right now you’re under suspicion of aiding and abetting suspected traitors to the empire as well as voluntarily engaging in black magic for the purpose of subverting and hindering the established regime. You are also responsible for stealing and kidnapping from an agent of the empire as well and interfering with an official mission headed by said agent.” He leaned forward. “We behead traitors.”
Tate glared at him and tightened her jaw stubbornly. “I haven’t done anything that could be classified as traitorous.”
“So you say, but your actions to date have been extremely suspicious.”
She didn’t know what he was talking about, and it must have shown on her face because the unreadable expression on his face shifted for just a moment and he nodded as if she’d confirmed something for him.
With a flick of his wrist he threw several balls in the air above her bed. They hovered in midair. While she was distracted he slipped a metal tube into one of the wounds on her arm. She flinched from the sharp pain and tried to pull away. He held her still while whatever it was worked its way under her skin and sprouted tentacles that attached themselves to nerve endings.
“What is that?” she shouted, grabbing one of his wrists and trying to break his grip on her.
“Relax,” he urged. “It’s just a truth-sayer. It’ll let me know if you try to lie to me at any point in this process.”
“I don’t care. Get it out of me.”
He slapped her hand away when she tried to grab the tube. “Stop fussing. It’ll stop hurting after a moment.”
He was right. Already the pain was fading, though the odd feeling of having something under her skin remained.
“Now,” he said, releasing her slowly to make sure she didn’t try to tear the tube out. “When you lie, these,” he tapped one of the floating balls which drifted out of place before drifting back, “will turn red. The truth-sayer will also dig deeper into your arm. I’d be careful if I were you. These things have been known to borrow so deep that the arm had to be cut off later.”
Great. Just what she needed. She tried to ignore the tube, but her eyes were drawn back to it almost constantly.
“Let’s start shall we.” He didn’t wait for her to respond. “What’s your full name?”
“Tate Fisher.”
Immediately the little tentacles burrowed into muscles and nerves causing pain to radiate up her arm and the little balls to flash red.
“It is my name.” The pain started again. “It’s the one I came up with because I don’t know my real name.” The pain stopped and the ball flashed a pale yellow.
“The truth but not the entire one,” he observed.
Sweat had started pouring off Tate, and her arm already ached.
“What is your name now?”
“Ai said its Tatum Alegra Winters,” Tate tried. She blew out a deep breath when the pain didn’t start.
“Alright,” he said. “Tell me why you decided to get off your ship at Aurelia.”
Tate licked her lips. “Because-“
She grabbed her arm as the tentacles sent waves of pain up it. “I didn’t even say anything yet.”
“You planned to lie. That was enough.”
“Alright. Alright. Enough,” she yelled. The tentacles seemed to draw back, but she could feel them moving just beneath the surface. “This is torture.”
“Indeed.” He lifted one eyebrow as if to say ‘so?’ “Simply tell the true and the pain will stop.”
So she did. She told him about hearing how Ryu was getting off at another city and how she decided to get off here because of pressure from the crew. He, of course, wanted to know why Ryu’s whereabouts mattered, so she had to tell him how he always seemed to be watching her. The entire story poured out of her. About how she met Umi, how she stole the key from Dewdrop. All of it. The entire chain of events. He stopped her several times, asking for more detail in several instances, about her motivations, her observations, everything. Every time she tried to hide something or twist the truth he, or the truth-sayer, would ferret the details from her. Staying silent wasn’t an option. When she tried, the tentacles looped around the femur in her arm and tightened, threatening to snap the bone unless she talked.
Fi
nally he had the whole story. Tate’s voice was hoarse from speaking, and her arm was a blaze of pain.
“One last question,” he said.
Tate felt relief that this ordeal was almost over.
“How did you come by your dragon?” His steely gaze met hers.
She got the feeling this was the most important question he’d asked her yet. That this was the real reason he was here. Somehow she felt that her fate rested on the outcome. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask ‘what dragon?’ but she knew what he was talking about. She could no longer pretend her tattoo wasn’t real.
“I don’t remember,” she said. She held her breath waiting for a spark of pain but there was nothing. The balls flashed green. She’d told the truth. Thank the Saviors.
“Nothing?”
She shook her head. “Everything from shortly before Jost picked me up is a blank.”
It was difficult to tell what he thought of her answer. In the end, she was left wondering. He held up his hand and the floating balls flew back to him. The tentacles receded, and he pulled the tube from her arm. She breathed a sigh of relief.
As if summoned, the door opened, and Ryu stepped into the room. He didn’t glance at Tate, his attention focused solely on the imperial inspector. Ryu looked faintly worried, but that was absurd. He’d faced down rival pirates and a roomful of the Red Lady’s disciples with a look of mild boredom. This shouldn’t even phase him.
Furthermore, his presence was a bit odd given he wasn’t exactly on the same side of the law as the inspector.
“She passed,” the inspector informed him, his clothes rustling as he stood.
“You’re findings?”
“A tendency to lie,” the inspector said, casting a censorious glance on Tate. She shrugged at him. Of course she did. The truth was a weapon best wielded carefully. And sparingly. “Actually, most of what comes out of her mouth are lies and half truths.”
Ryu’s shoulders tightened, and he nodded grimly. Tate folded her arms across her chest, or at least tried to. The bandages on both arms didn’t exactly make it easy for her to bend them.
