Blood of the Dragon

by Jay D Pearson

  Miguel gaped. A leprechaun?

  “I came as soon as I felt the storm, milord,” the little creature croaked. “I can travel faster than any dragon now. All the way from Eire I came.”

  “Why are you here, Hagr? Why did you do this?” asked Balor, waving one arm at the ruined waterfall.

  “I am a king now, Lord Tigano. Wouldn’t you like that? They could all serve you. They can’t make clever traps like mine, but they will follow me because they know I won’t betray them or banish them.”

  “Shut up, Hagr,” growled Balor.

  “Did you see what I can do, dragon?” Hagr said, its chest puffed out. “I could be king here for you. King Hagr. No more Finaarva or Månefè. They make the valley sick. I could make it green for you. My leprechauns could build you a fine castle just like in Eire, and you could stay there whenever you wanted.”

  The little creature smirked at Balor, almost as if taunting the man.

  “I know where they keep your lady, milord.”

  Miguel’s heart leaped. This leprechaun knew where Àibell was? Aileen was certain to be with her mother!

  “What do you want, Hagr?” asked Balor wearily.

  The creature cackled. “I want you to ask me to rejoin your service, milord! I could make you great once more, like when you slew that dragon.” It said the last looking straight at Wu Zhao, and Miguel was certain the leprechaun was trying to goad her.

  Her belly glowed and he glanced worriedly at her. Even though she was a dragon, he still recognized her demeanor. It was the same way she’d looked when she’d grounded Carlos.

  “Mom, wait!” he shouted. For the first time, Hagr seemed to notice him, the leprechaun’s eyes darting back and forth between he and his mother, until they widened with understanding.

  “How…?” it croaked. “How could this little human be your child, dragon?” Its eyes narrowed suspiciously and Miguel felt a slight twinge. Then Hagr’s eyes nearly bulged out of its head and it danced a little jig.

  “It has magic! A human child with magic! Oh Lord Tigano, do you serve it? Is this your new master?” Then Hagr cackled once more.

  “My wife, Hagr Twyllo! Tell me where she is, or the dragon will destroy you!”

  The leprechaun spat. “Beg me to return, milord! Beg me!”

  The heat from his mom’s belly was all the warning Miguel needed. Fear his mother or Balor would kill Hagr and destroy their best chance of finding Aileen and Àibell filled him, and he released a wave of magic at the leprechaun. A wall of faint white light sprang up in front of the little creature a brief second before she roared. Her fireball burned the rocks black and evaporated the waterfall, but not even the little creature’s top hat was singed.

  Silence echoed. Their eyes bored into him: his mother, Balor, Hagr, even the Sasquatches.

  “Now there is one I could follow,” he heard Hagr mutter in its raspy whine as the magical shield faded.

  “Miguel…” his mother growled warningly and he cringed. He’d never openly defied her before.

  “Boy!” yelled Balor. “What have you done?”

  He stared wonderingly at the one-eyed man, uncertain if Balor was mad about the shield or amazed.

  “Aileen…” he said softly, trying to express the reason for his audacity. He was rewarded with a grimace of chagrin on his mentor’s face and his mother sat back.

  Balor turned to the leprechaun. “You really know where they are?” Miguel was certain the man spoke through gritted teeth. “Will you take us there?”

  “Are you begging for my service, Lord Tigano?”

  After a moment’s hesitation, Balor answered. “Yes, Hagr, I am begging.”

  The leprechaun leaped down to the tiny lake’s rocky edge with the agility of a spider, then strutted to them.

  “I reject your offer, oh mighty Lord Changeling!” Then the little creature cackled, clearly delighted with itself. Balor’s face burned and Miguel readied his magic. He did not understand the past between this Hagr and his mentor, but he did not want to see Balor kill, especially not if it really knew where the women were.

  “But this human child,” said Hagr with a small chuckle as it studied him from head to toe as if he were merely a tool. “I wonder if its magic is as strong as what Raven gave me?”

  “Raven did what?” his mother grunted.

  Hagr twirled as if showing off the latest fashion. “How else could I escape the prison? How else do you think I could travel so fast from Eire? My magic is better than any faery.”

  Miguel could almost feel Balor bristling. His mother appeared flabbergasted as the little creature began to march back and forth like Mr. Sandoval did at school assemblies, gesturing wildly while he pontificated.

  “Raven likes me because I’m like him. My little trickster, he calls me. He doesn’t like changelings. They don’t think they need his help. He doesn’t like dragons, either, at least those who pretend to be great spirits. But he despises little faeries who twist Mother Earth. The Skookum should have been his people, but Finaarva and Månefè came. Did you know Månefè beat me with his staff, milord? Me! That’s why I left him. Now I am a king because Raven is my master.”

  “King of what?” asked Balor cynically.

  Hagr stopped pacing and swung his arms out like DiCaprio on the Titanic.

  “King of the leprechauns!”

  Miguel noted, however, that there was no pride on Hagr’s face; rather, he looked like a puppy waiting for its master’s approval.

  “You can’t have the boy’s magic, Hagr,” said Balor quietly, the corners of his lips and eyes turned down sadly.

  “If you fight Månefè, will you kill him?” Hagr asked.

  “I will save my wife and daughter, no matter what I must do.”

  “And what of you, oh mighty Wu Zhao? What will you do to Finaarva?”

  “I am here to remake the barrier. If he gets in my way, I will destroy him.”

  Hagr cackled gleefully, rubbing its hands together.

  “I can take you to them. All of them. And quickly. You need my magic, because they have made the land so sick that you will all die without me. But I have a price.”

  “I knew it,” muttered Balor.

  “What is it?” his mother asked.

  The leprechaun looked up at her, its greedy smile reaching its orange eyes.

  “I watched you make the barrier, mighty Wu Zhao. I do not forget the stone you held. Did you bring it? You need it for the magic, don’t you?”

  “What about it?” his mother asked slowly.

  “Give it to me after you make our magic! That is my price.”

  Miguel’s stomach squirmed. He had never heard such greed. He’d never heard of any stone like Hagr asked for, and wondered if they really needed the little creature’s assistance to save Aileen and Àibell.

  “Very well,” his mother answered. “I will give you the Dragon Pearl if you take us to Tigano’s family, if you help us remake the barrier, and if we all escape safely. That is my offer. Nothing less.”

  “You have it?” Balor asked incredulously, looking her over as if she might have some hidden pocket.

  “I will when it is needed.”

  Miguel noted Hagr had not yet answered, and he wondered if his mom’s counteroffer was more than the leprechaun had expected. Finally, however, it nodded agreement.

  His mother knelt so they could climb on her back again. “Are we entering through this gate?” she asked.

  “Yes, but we won’t stay on the other side very long,” Hagr answered.

  His mother turned to the Sasquatches. Miguel had almost forgotten they were still there.

  “Call all your brethren,” she said. “Let none sleep. Guard every gate. Do not let one slaq escape. When this is done, you may all slumber.”

  Without waiting for any response, she turned and lumbered through the small lake towards the swirling blue-grey mist. When they were close enough, she extended a forearm. The moment her hand touched the gate, he could feel its po
wer irresistibly sucking at him. For one brief second, the world he’d always known still surrounded him. Then everything turned black.

  Chapter 29

  The Magic

  The sky had grown tired when his vision returned a few moments later, the sluggish haze of a late winter afternoon crawling just fast enough to obscure a weak sun. A thin fog wafted just above the ground, concealing most of the piles of rotting leaves and needles. The fog did not hide the scent, however, and Miguel choked as the musty odor of decay assaulted him. Balor coughed as well and his mother was shaking her head as if trying to clear it.

  He caught a brief glimpse of broken snags and an oily brown swamp. What vegetation he could see glowed, a maddening variety of garish phosphorescent shades, funguses clinging to the stumps like leeches, or brambles sticking out of the fens with shriveled berries and dark thorns that reminded him of assassins’ daggers in his video games.

  Beyond the swamp, a thin waterfall trickled over a gap just like the one that had blown open. The rocks were damp with an unctuous sheen, but familiar enough that he realized they had merely shifted from their reality to a new one.

  “Are we in the faery prison?” he asked, then coughed again.

  “Unless the gate now takes us somewhere else,” answered Balor, staring disbelievingly at his surroundings. “When I was last here, there was little difference between either reality.”

  “It is their magic, Lord Tigano,” said Hagr in its sniveling, raspy voice, then pointed at the mountain heights at the top of the valley. “Only up by the glacier is it safe to breathe. We must travel quickly. You must trust me now, milord. Do you trust me?”

  “I trust your wickedness, Hagr Twyllo. If you lead us falsely, I will kill you.”

  Hagr appeared offended, but Miguel could now see the insincerity in the corner of its bulbous orange eyes. Still, he did not like the idea of Balor killing the leprechaun.

  “Do you have the pearl ready, oh mighty Wu Zhao?” Hagr croaked. “There may not be time when we arrive.”

  His mother’s neck swiveled until her huge snout had snaked within inches of Hagr’s face. Miguel realized she could swallow the little creature in a single gulp.

  “My son will carry it and he will be the one to use its magic. If you want it, you must not try to take it prematurely, or I will incinerate you. Do as he tells you without question. Do you understand?”

  Hagr nodded solemnly. Miguel was certain the leprechaun’s eyes were honest in that moment.

  His mother’s neck swung until her mouth was just above the ground, then closed her eyes and exhaled. The air shimmered like haze above the street in the heat of summer. When her breath had expended itself and she opened her eyes, he spotted a stone orb the size of his head rocking slightly in the detritus. It looked familiar somehow, especially its slight pearlescent gleam.

  “The Dragon Pearl!” Hagr hissed softly, its voice full of lusty awe.

  “Get down and take it, Miguel,” his mother said as she knelt.

  He clambered down her leg, slipping on the leaves and grabbing a scale to keep his balance. The needles and leaves disintegrated as his shoes touched them, as slimy as old lettuce. He stepped carefully until he reached the round white rock, then bent down to pick it up.

  It was the size of a human head, gleaming slightly with a sheen of its own, and much lighter than he’d expected. The moment his hands touched it, he recognized it.

  “This was part of the pool, wasn’t it, mom? In your grotto. How did it get here? How am I supposed to get on your back with this?”

  Her green eyes narrowed, and he knew he would receive no more explanation than if he had asked about a family secret in front of neighbors. He reddened, realizing he’d never told her about the night he’d snuck into her personal sanctuary in their pool, but she turned her attention to the leprechaun.

  “Hagr’s magic will take us to where we need to go, won’t it, Hagr?” she stated.

  The little creature nodded so vigorously that its top hat bobbled, its eyes never leaving the stone in Miguel’s hands.

  “Then get off my back and take us there. You too, Tigano.”

  Hagr scrambled down her leg while the faery floated down, its wings beating. The leprechaun grabbed hold of a scale, then said, “Hold onto my vest, milords.”

  The world shifted as soon as he and Balor touched Hagr’s green velvet. The ground disappeared, only to reappear a second before he could stumble. The air was instantly thicker, the haze brown like he’d seen in Phoenix when pollution fills the valley, and it stunk of sulfur. The trees were thicker also, or at least the number of snags. Few were anything more than skeletons, a forest of driftwood sticking up like matchsticks in the soft dirt. Ferns and brambles grew, but they were strange shades of aquamarine, orchid, or periwinkle that glowed eerily. There was no green left in any plant, except for stains that ran down stems like rust on abandoned vehicles.

  A wide, tired path weaved westward through the snags, winding past black, oily streams. In the distance, a hedge rose, a lurid pink light gleaming through the thorns.

  “Is that all that’s left of Bruagh-na-Boyne?” Balor asked. Miguel had never seen the man so shaken.

  “Yes, milord,” wheezed Hagr. “You will see. It is their evil, Finaarva and Månefè. Yes, you will see. Come.”

  “When did this happen?” his mother whispered as they trudged forward, moving slowly to avoid slipping on the rotting leaves and grasses.

  “You were gone a long time, oh mighty Wu Zhao. Then milord left. Only the barrier remained, and they made all their magic fight against it. The magic of the others as well, those who stayed.”

  “What do you mean,” asked Balor. “Those who stayed?”

  “You will see, milord. Your old home, at the glacier, it is very full now. That was when Raven came to me, made me king. He likes me, Raven does. The other spirits wouldn’t come down here, just Raven. Salmon and Bear, they won’t touch the evil. I think they’re afraid.”

  As Hagr rambled, Miguel played with the large round stone, turning it over and over. As they drew closer to the hedge, it began to tingle like a hand or a foot that has fallen asleep and the blood is rushing back. He sensed there was a secret buried deep inside waiting to be unlocked, but whatever was in there was hidden by a maze far more complex than he’d ever experienced. If wondered if he could figure out how to work his magic through the maze. He was certain that he could; he’d solved convoluted puzzles in his video games. Was this any different?

  “There’s not much magic left for me to draw on,” Balor said cautiously.

  “We will do what we must do,” his mother rumbled, but he heard worry edging into her voice.

  He spotted some sort of gate in the hedge: two wooden doors shaped like half moons, but hanging askew, the ends of the slats eaten away or broken. As they approached, someone stepped from between the doors.

  It was another faery, he quickly realized, but quite unlike Balor or Àibell. Its wingtips and pointed ears drooped like melted wax, and its white skin was so pale and translucent that the blue veins beneath were visible. Bloodshot eyes sagged and its hair was thin and matted. It leaned on a spear as it walked forward, its clothes as ragged as the snags in the forest.

  Miguel stared at its limbs. He’d been horrified when he’d seen pictures of Nazi concentration camp victims for the first time. This faery was not quite so emaciated, but it was close, and he realized its spear served more as a walking stick than any sort of weapon.

  Then the faery’s eyes focused on Miguel and the others approaching the gate, widening in fear.

  “The…the dragon! Lord Changeling! Aagh!” The faery trembled, dropping the spear and falling to its knees. It prostrated itself at Balor’s feet, mumbling and sobbing.

  “Save me! Forgive me!” it cried.

  Balor knelt down beside the faery, reaching gently for a hand. Miguel started, surprised by his mentor’s show of tenderness.

  “It’s not my place to forgive you,
but we can offer you a way home to Faery. Are there others like you ready to repent of Finaarva’s wickedness?”

  The faery lifted its head. Tears streaked its cheeks and Miguel finally realized the faery was male.

  “We all are, milord. Except for them, we all are.”

  “Them? Who do you mean?”

  “The king. Lord Månefè. A few others who help them steal our magic. Everyone else who has not fled is either like me or already dead.”

  Miguel watched his mentor’s face darken.

  “Can this be done?” Balor asked Wu Zhao. “Could multiple gates be opened?”

  His mother nodded, but he spotted the lack of confidence in her face.

  The other faery clutched the bottom of Balor’s duster. “We want to leave, milord, but our strength is gone. Will you save us? I implore you, tell me what to do, and I will tell the rest.”

  “Go!” Balor ordered the other faery. “Gather here where we stand all who would repent. If it is possible, I swear it shall be done, but I don’t know how long you will have.”

  The faery fumbled for the spear, using it to push himself to his feet, then stumbled through the wooden gate.

  “Bless you, milord!” he cried over his shoulder, then vanished into the pink glow beyond the hedge.

  “Miguel,” his mother ordered as soon as the faery was out of earshot. “Listen carefully. I do not understand how your magic works, but somehow you must do this, and our enemies must not know what you are doing. Hagr, if you want the pearl, you must guard my son with your life when Balor and I attack. He may have to be within sight of Finaarva for it to work. Do you have any magic that could obscure the two of you or distract the king and Månefè so that they focus wholly on us?”

  The leprechaun rubbed its hands together gleefully. Or greedily, Miguel realized.

  “Oh yes, mighty Wu Zhao. Lord Månefè will never know I was here. Or your child.”

  He glanced at the little creature. There had been murderous spite in its voice when it said Månefè’s name, and he wondered what had happened between Hagr and this faery lord he kept hearing about.

  “Miguel,” his mother said again. “When I made the barrier the first time, I sealed it at the top of this valley near the Blue Glacier. That is where the faeries who have fled the evil caused by the king have gone. It is near where I lived when I was called Thunderbird. I have felt you exploring the magic of the pearl. When you unlock it, you need to strengthen the barrier but also find the way back to Faery where Balor and I first came from. I had my own blood, the blood of a dragon, to aid me. Dragon blood flows through you, my son, as well as the blood of your father, however that may help you.”