Triptych

by S. C. Mitchell

  Good.

  Morgan looked forward to gaining the experience when she recombined into Maggie. If she ever got that opportunity.

  She captured Morgana’s gaze. “You know what to do?”

  Morgana nodded. “When you tell me to, I hit it with everything I’ve got.”

  Facing the invisible wall, Morgana grasped Fragarach with both hands and raised the sword over her head.

  Morgan stood behind, hands splayed against Morgana’s shoulder blades. She needed to focus her spell through Morgana and into the sword.

  “Ni gonda maliblamden,” she chanted, emphasizing every other syllable. Power flowed from her into Morgana. Her head spun and her legs went weak.

  “Paul, keep me on my feet.” She didn’t dare lose contact with Morgana now.

  Paul stepped up behind and wrapped his arms around her waist to support her.

  “Ni gonda maliblamden.” This time she emphasized the opposite syllables.

  She felt the vibration building within Morgana.

  “Strike now,” she screamed, but she had no strength left. “Paul, push us forward.”

  Over Morgana’s shoulder, Morgan watched the sword fall, slicing into the wall. The edges of the rift glowed with a golden luminance, but the opening was inky blackness, a void.

  Paul pushed from behind and Morgan tumbled into the abyss.

  Chapter 28

  Paul fell without any rush of wind. No sight, no sound, no feeling of any kind, yet he experienced the sensation of falling. The loss of equilibrium.

  He’d kept his arms wrapped around Morgan’s waist, but he couldn’t feel her. His arms were wrapped around nothing solid, yet he couldn’t bring them to his stomach, and he refused to let go. Had he been right to push when she told him? Should he have let go of her? She hadn’t said.

  Vision came gradually. A spinning mist of gray, slightly less dark than the total blackness surrounding him. His ears rang and his head pounded, but at least it was sensation and not the complete nothingness of a few seconds . . . a few hours? . . . ago.

  Then he wasn’t falling. He was on his back. A weight, a body, lay against his stomach, his arms clasping it to him.

  “Morgan?” He could talk again.

  Her breath hissed out in a heavy sigh as he released her.

  Morgan rolled off him. “We made it.”

  Paul pulled himself to his feet, surveying his surroundings.

  In all four directions, a desert of gray sand stretched out. Here and there, a glossy black rocky protrusion broke the dunes. In the distance stood a misty mountain range. Overhead, mustard-colored clouds drifted across a purple sky.

  “Made it where?” Morgana asked. Sword in hand, she pushed to her feet a few yards away.

  “I have no idea,” Morgan answered. “We’re in whatever dimension Guinevere used to create that wall.” She stood and pointed. “We have to go that way.”

  “What’s that way?” Paul asked.

  “The other side of the wall.” Morgan brought the palms of her hands together in a squeezing motion. “All of this was compressed into that wall surrounding the Xi-1, so densely even Phaze couldn’t get through it.”

  This was beyond what Paul could begin to grasp. “I’m glad you understand it. How far do we have to go to get to the other side of the wall?”

  Morgan shrugged. “A couple miles, I think. I’ll know when we get there.”

  Catching his attention, Morgana rolled her eyes and shook her head.

  Yeah, as much as they looked identical, Maggie’s three aspects were different. Morgana’s kiss still resonated on his lips. The passionate feel of her against his body was slightly different then Morgan or Morgause. Or Maggie for that matter. At times it felt like he was dating four different people.

  Still, not all that different.

  It was Maggie he’d fallen in love with. Even before she’d acquired these other aspects, she’d had his senses soaring. And the aspects were simply that. Aspects. Parts of her.

  The warrior, so fierce, whether in the cockpit or swinging her sword on the battlefield. The sorceress, Maggie’s inquisitive nature, always questioning and learning. And the healer, her nurturing, caring side.

  He followed Morgan as she made her way through the foreboding landscape. His eyes scanned to her sexy ass, and his thoughts turned completely inappropriate to the situation.

  Yeah. He loved them all because he loved Maggie.

  In the distance, from the direction they were heading, a high keening noise reverberated, pulling him from his reverie.

  They weren’t alone.

  ~ ~ ~

  Steam poured out of the engines atop the alien spacecraft as Morgause rushed down the incline into the headquarters’ sub-basement. A mix of excitement and horror fluttered through her, twisting her gut every-which-way. She was going into space, Maggie’s dream for as long as she could remember.

  Of course, two-thirds of her was already there.

  After capturing the Xi-1, the Sha’Xari mothership had moved out of Earth’s atmosphere and into an asynchronous orbit around the planet, out of range of any ready vessel on the planet . . . except this one.

  At the entrance ramp, Aaron was holding a heated conversation with Luke Sheffield.

  “I’m not asking for volunteers,” Aaron said as Morgause approached.

  Luke shook his head. “Commander Tompkins ordered me to keep an eye on Olivia. I can’t do that from here.”

  Aaron’s look held a question. Was there room for one more?

  Morgause sized up their group. Olivia, Kirk, Quantum, Mary, Jimmy, and her. Aaron would be staying here to coordinate any needed national or international cooperation, if needed. And Dr. Logan would be filling in for Kirk on the Cray workstation, running logistics and data processing.

  Considering the size of the craft’s cabin, Morgause concluded, “If Mary and Jimmy combine for the trip up, here’s room for one more. You sure you want in, Luke?”

  It wasn’t like people were falling all over themselves volunteering for this mission.

  “Yes, ma’am.” He was dressed in his combat gear and had a big gun of some kind resting against his shoulder.

  Aaron nodded. “Okay, be careful up there.” He left them.

  Morgause clapped Luke on the shoulder. “Let’s get you strapped in.”

  The craft originally had four seats. They’d jury-rigged two more into the space.

  Kirk was under one of the combat stations, hooking in his laptop. Olivia sat at the controls. Mary and Jimmy had already merged into their wolf-woman form.

  Morgause slid into the seat next to Quantum and directed Luke to take the last empty accommodation.

  “You wearing that power suit I sent you?” Wolf-Woman Mary growled at him.

  Luke nodded.

  Morgause placed her hand on Quantum’s shoulder, sending an extra burst of healing energy into her. “How are you doing?” Still recovering from her hard delivery and near death, Dove’s body was far from healthy.

  “Emily is with Dorothy, Tonya, and Charlie, Dr. Logan’s new nurses. They’re all really good with her. I hate leaving her, but I have to do this.” Dove’s face was a mask of determination.

  Morgause squeezed her shoulder. “We couldn’t do it without you. You’re the only one here with any real super abilities.”

  Mary was stronger and more agile, and Morgause had her healing powers, but what was that against an alien invasion? Quantum would be the real wild card, so Morgause’s main mission would be to keep her on her feet.

  But first, Olivia needed to get them there.

  The craft vibrated. Through the windshield, Morgause saw the exit tunnel approaching.

  “Interface connected,” Kirk announced, pulling himself u
p from under the console. He belted into his seat, and started typing on his laptop.

  The darkness of the tunnel gave way to blue skies, and the ship accelerated toward the clouds.

  “Maybe I should have worn a red shirt,” Luke mumbled.

  Kirk shook his head, but a soft smile creased his lips. He’d obviously gotten the reference. “This isn’t Star Trek.”

  Luke’s gaze scanned the spaceship cabin. “You sure about that?”

  ~ ~ ~

  The yowl was like nothing Morgana had ever heard. Something between an upset cat and a beluga whale song. The plodding footsteps indicated a creature of perhaps the size of a horse or cow. She only got a glimpse of the gray bulk as it disappeared behind a large boulder. The animal certainly wasn’t light on its feet.

  But the creature was heading away from them, so she sheathed her sword.

  Paul’s waning flashlight cast its weak beam ahead into the darkness. Night had set in hours ago in this dreary dimension that didn’t seem to have any stars or moons. The bright orb they’d assumed was a sun had kept its position in the heavens, but suddenly disappeared, extinguished, like a switched off lamp.

  “Are we getting any closer?” Morgana asked Morgan once again.

  Morgan huffed. “It’s this way, and we’ve been walking for hours toward it, so we must be.”

  So she probably didn’t have a clue as to how close they were to their destination.

  The whoosh of air was accompanied by a leathery flap from above, like a sail on a boat catching wind. Something slightly darker black than the inky sky sailed overhead.

  Something big.

  They hadn’t directly encountered any of the creatures living in this dimension. They’d heard sounds, usually foot pads skittering away from them, and seen what appeared to be tracks or trails in the sand. Despite the desolate appearance, things did live here.

  The world lit up when an arc of flame shot from the serpentine silhouette gliding in the sky above them.

  A dragon. A freakin’ fire-breathing dragon.

  “Oh, this is not good,” Morgan mumbled.

  Paul pulled his pistol from its holster. “We don’t know that for sure. Everything else here has left us alone. Maybe this will too.”

  The creature landed a dozen feet in front of them. A growl rumbled from its jaws as it cocked its head, gazing toward them with huge, purple eyes.

  Easily twenty feet high, the creature was enormous.

  A classic fantasy dragon. Four-legged, covered in coal black scales, with a long, sinuous neck and tail. Horns, fangs, and all manner of scariness, it beat the air with huge bat-like wings.

  Morgause drew Fragarach from its scabbard and set her stance for an attack.

  Chapter 29

  “Slingnilt?” Definitely a question, but Morgan had no idea what the dragon was asking. At least it hadn’t attacked.

  Could it possibly be friendly?

  The creature shimmered and shrank, changing in seconds into a black-skinned woman, with long, dark-green hair, dressed neck to toe in a black leathery outfit.

  Paul holstered his handgun, then held out his hands. “We mean you no harm.”

  “Tsy signus dom?”

  “Yeah, sure,” Morgana answered shrugging. “Any idea what she’s saying?”

  “I have something I think might help,” Morgan said. Hopefully the dragon-lady wouldn’t interpret it as an attack.

  A softly shimmering globe of light built as she wove her fingers in the intricate pattern. She pushed the glowing orb of light toward the creature, guiding it slowly, ready to pull it back if the woman made any sudden moves.

  “What is that?” Paul asked.

  “An interpretation spell. It works on Earth languages, allowing the receiver to understand and speak the language of the caster.” A spell from Gran’s notebook she’d discovered only recently. She’d thought it might come in handy when they encountered the aliens again.

  But probably not. From what she’d seen of them, negotiation wasn’t even in their lexicon. The Sha’Xari seemed all about conquering, destroying, and moving on.

  As the orb of light came near, the woman reached out toward it. When it touched her hand, it dispersed, creating a shimmering glow around her.

  “Do you understand me now?” Morgan asked.

  The woman’s eyes went wide. “Yes.”

  Her mouth didn’t say Yes, but that’s what Morgan heard.

  The woman approached Paul, taking his hand and studying the back of it as she ran a finger across his knuckles. “You are of Harath?”

  Paul shook his head. “I don’t know what that means.”

  Morgan fought the urge to punch this woman who stood far too close to Paul running her hands over him like a lover.

  Begorrah, Paul was hers. But now was not the time to let jealousy rule her reason. They needed to find out what they could of this creature.

  “Harath was what we called my world before the Sha’Xari destroyed it. You appear as one of us.” The woman put her hand to Paul’s cheek.

  Okay. Enough of that. “We are from a place we call Earth. Do you know of it?” Morgan asked.

  The woman turned, stepped closer, and placed her hand on Morgan’s cheek. “Your skin. Such a strange color. I have never seen its like. And I have never heard of this Earth you speak of, though perhaps we called it something else.”

  Intelligence sparked in her deep purple eyes. She was darker skinned than Paul, a rich ebony black. If her world didn’t have lighter-skinned people it was no wonder she’d gravitated toward Paul first.

  Oh, admit it. Any woman would gravitate toward Paul first, though the touching and invasion of personal space didn’t seem to be limited to him. Possibly a custom of her people?

  This was an alien after all, despite her rather human appearance at the moment. She’d been a freaking dragon only moments before. Her customs and actions were bound to be different.

  “I am Morgan. What is your name?”

  The woman’s smile seemed genuine. “I am called Hanma Draco. It is good to see people again, even if you are not from Harath. I have been alone here a long time.”

  “Is this what’s left of Harath?” Morgana indicated the wastelands around them.

  Hanma shook her head. “This is where we fled as our world was destroyed by the Sha’Xari. Titanus Finn, one powerful in the ways, opened a bridge to this place. But he died in the crossing, so we were trapped here. Only eight of us survived. The others have died since to the dangers here. I fear I am all that remains of the Harathien peoples, unless others found safer havens.”

  Okay, so if dragon people had trouble surviving here, this was not a place they wanted to stay any longer than necessary. Maybe this alien could help them on their way.

  What are you thinking? she sent to Morgana.

  I want to know more about her.

  Morgana stepped closer and addressed Hanma. “Could all your people change into dragons?”

  Hanma turned to her, repeating the face-touching gesture. “All had a second form, but only those of royal blood could assume the draco aspect. I am a direct descendent of Tsarn Draco, bringer of flame, and a princess of the realm, though I don’t think that counts for much anymore.”

  Not if her world had been destroyed.

  “We are also fighting the Sha’Xari,” Morgan said. “To return to our world, we need to traverse a distance in this dimension. You are welcome to come with us, but we need to be moving.”

  Hanma took a step back and did a slight bow. “You are most kind. I would like to come with you. Anything to leave this place and be with people again. And perhaps I can speed our travels.”

  She shimmered and morphed once again into her dragon form. “Climb on my back and I will f
ly us to your destination.

  ~ ~ ~

  The blue sky outside the spaceship’s front window was replaced by stars against an ebony firmament. Morgause was in space. If she released her seatbelt, she’d drift weightlessly.

  But now was not the time for experimentation.

  Still, the tension and drama of the situation did little to diminish the wonder. There was nothing she could do anyway at that moment, so she let herself be captivated by the experience.

  “Twenty degrees to port,” Kirk said staring at his computer screen, “and adjust the Z axis three degrees to the positive.”

  Olivia huffed. “They really don’t have degrees on any of these instruments you know.”

  “Sorry.” He looked up and out the windshield. “A bit to the left, and just slightly up.”

  Suddenly the Sha’Xari mothership filled the view.

  Morgause had only seen it in pictures or from a great distance, and hadn’t truly appreciated how gargantuan the vessel was.

  Garage-type doors opened and shut around the saucer’s outer rim with ships of all sizes coming and going.

  “All right,” Kirk said, pounding on his keyboard. “I’m into their network. Now I need a little time to hack their security and figure out how to give us landing clearance in one of those bays without attracting any undue attention.”

  He made it sound easy. Maybe for him, it was.

  “Olivia, avoid those other ships, but don’t look like you’re trying to avoid them,” he added.

  She huffed, “How exactly am I supposed to do that?”

  Kirk shrugged. “I don’t know—”

  Olivia cut him off. “If you say ‘fly casual’ I will hurt you.”

  Kirk, wisely, didn’t say another word, though their banter felt more like flirting than arguing. There was most definitely a spark sizzling between the two. It was a good thing El Brujo wasn’t here.