Monster Hunter Siege (Monster Hunters International Book 6)

by Correia, Larry

  “I can’t believe Milo does stuff like this for a hobby.” Trip hit the floor a moment later, grinning. Of course, rappelling down a hole was rather exhilarating for him. “I must really want to meet a dragon.”

  The walls were rock, like we’d stepped into a mine shaft. We were armed, but only with concealable handguns we wouldn’t mind ditching if we got rolled up by security. While Milo got Trip unhooked, I pointed my flashlight down the tunnel. “He was down that way.”

  Management’s fate was a mystery. We didn’t know if the Nachtmar had gotten him or not. And if the last dragon was dead, had the MCB found his secret lair? It wasn’t like this cave was on any of the building plans. I only knew about it because the dragon had hijacked my elevator. The tunnel hadn’t changed at all, so maybe we’d get lucky.

  “If the treasure is still down here, I’ve got dibs on a moon rock,” Milo said. “Whoa…I just had a thought. What would happen if I gave a moon rock to Earl?”

  “I have no idea. But no looting. We’re just here for information on our bad guy.” I said that mostly because dragon hearing was way better than human’s, and if he was still around I didn’t want to offend him. In reality, if he was gone but his hoard was still here, that Terracotta Warrior would look badass in my freshly remodeled living room.

  The dragon had been unfailingly polite, so if he was still alive I probably shouldn’t barge in unannounced. It wasn’t smart to startle things that could squish you like a bug. Super hearing or not, I raised my voice to be safe. “Hello! Management! Are you home?”

  It echoed several times. We waited. There was no answer.

  “Here goes.”

  A short walk later, we reached the cave. It was so big our powerful flashlights were barely sufficient to illuminate one corner, but even then I could tell we were too late. I shined the light back and forth, bouncing it off of crystal formations. I muttered something profane.

  “Bummer,” said Milo the master of understatement.

  The cave wasn’t just empty, it had been stripped. The last time I’d been here the vast space had been packed with stuff—everything from rare paintings to Greek statues. Now there wasn’t so much as a coin on the ground. There was no sign of the dragon or any of his collection. The air tasted moist and stale. There were still electrical cables strung up, but everything they’d been powering was long gone.

  “I’d really been hoping to meet the dragon. You made him sound awesome.”

  “I guess if you’re into that sort of thing.”

  “Man, who isn’t into giant thunder lizards?” Milo asked as he shined his light toward the ceiling. It didn’t reach.

  I kept walking along the walls, searching for some clue as to what had happened. The dragon had been my best hope, because in addition to collecting physical treasures, Management had collected information. He had been telling me about the real enemy when the Nachtmar had interrupted our conversation by dragging the whole casino into another dimension.

  There were big cracks in the otherwise smooth walls. I didn’t remember those from before, but I’d been on a bit of sensory overload at the time. Then I noticed the blackened scorch marks and deep gashes that must have been caused by claws.

  Trip whistled. “It looks like they had one heck of a fight.”

  The back of the cave was partially collapsed. There had been a freight elevator there, which was how Management had gotten fed, but now the whole area was covered in fallen rocks and dirt. I really didn’t want to mess around back there for fear of causing any further collapse.

  Milo joined me. “So what do you think happened to your big friend?”

  “No idea.” He could have gotten out the freight shaft, but he’d sounded pretty beat up by the Nachtmar when I’d last heard from him over the radio. “Maybe he died here and the MCB removed his body?”

  “It’s possible. The floors have been swept and hit with a dust vac. They’ve definitely had a cleanup crew down here. If he left anything for you, the MCB took it already.”

  “Are you getting anything else, Z?” Trip asked cautiously.

  “You know…” Milo made a pair of finger guns and stuck them against his temples. Between the headlamp and the big red Viking beard, he looked really crazy doing that. “In your brain? ”

  I had never asked to be psychic. Frankly, it was a pain in the ass. “Not in the slightest.”

  But maybe they had a point. As a creature of magic, Management had recognized that I was one of the Chosen. It was possible that once he had realized how dire our circumstances were, he’d left something that only someone like me would be able to find. Sadly, it wasn’t like this champion of a cosmic faction business came with instructions. I hadn’t even known I’d been applying for the job.

  “Look at Z’s face. He’s gonna go for it,” Milo said.

  Sometimes, I could watch other people’s memories from their perspective. With humans, it required physical contact and me really wanting to know about a specific memory. Though I’d pulled it off with a gnome and even a shoggoth—let me tell you, that was one weird-ass experience—but with something as ancient and powerful as Management? It beat the hell out of me. I’d have to go by instinct.

  There was a blasted scorch mark on a nearby rock pillar. It had been so hot that it had melted half of it into slag. I don’t know why I fixated on that. It felt…energetic. “Hang on.” I laid my open hand on the rock.

  It must have looked kind of dramatic, because Milo began to chant. “Chosen One. Chosen One,” like this was a sporting event.

  “Dude, please,” Trip told him. “You’re embarrassing him.”

  “Just trying to help motivate our psychic.”

  “If you bust out pom-poms I’m going back up that rope.”

  “Oh, I bet if it was Holly dressed up like a cheerleader, nobody would mind.”

  Trip started to give Milo a sarcastic response, but thought about it for a second. “Okay. That’s true.”

  “Guys. Come on.”

  “Sorry, Z,” they said simultaneously.

  Despite my fellow Hunters being themselves, I could tell there was something lingering here. It’s hard to explain, but it felt like a memory. As I focused, I could almost but not quite hear Management’s voice talking to me. Only this wasn’t like taking something from a human mind. Now that I had gotten quite a bit of practice, I could grab those in an instant, like reflexively snatching a ball tossed to me out of the air. This felt heavy. This wasn’t a ball. This was a pallet of bricks precariously balanced on top of a stick.

  “Here goes.”

  I gave the stick a mental shove. The bricks fell on us.

  “What the heck?” Trip muttered as blue flames appeared around my hand.

  I jerked my arm away, but the flaming handprint remained. It began to spread across the rock, picking up speed at it went. Within seconds the pillar was engulfed, and the fire was rolling outward across the floor. Luckily, there was no heat accompanying it. It washed over my feet. Milo yelped and jumped as it flew past him.

  “You seeing this too?” I asked. They didn’t answer, but by the looks on their faces, staring at the imaginary glowing fire that was up to their knees, the answer was yes. Items grew from the fire: shelves, cases, caskets, thrones—even cars—all of the dragon’s treasures. The glow climbed up the wall until it lit the distant ceiling. We were standing in a neon blue world. “I’ve never had anyth—”

  There was a deafening roar followed by a sound like lightning. I put my hands over my ears. All of us instinctively ducked as something gigantic whooshed overhead. It was a dragon wing, stretching across half the cavern. The other wing materialized, beating, but there was no wind. The roar grew until I thought it was going to swallow us all.

  The body formed, big as a train car stood on end. Powerful limbs formed out of thin air. It all became clear, and I gasped in awe as Management towered above me. His mighty, horned head turned on his long serpentine neck, as he opened jaws sufficient to chew a whole cow
, and a cone of blue fire burst forth, snaking from side to side. It washed over us.

  I couldn’t help but flinch. If that had been real, we would have all been instantly consumed, but we weren’t in the presence of this mighty force of nature. This was just an imprint left behind. The glowing version of Management was translucent. I could see rock on the opposite side of the cave through his shimmering scales and membranous wings. The collected treasures were blurry. There was a table full of jewels partially through Trip’s leg. There was a flaming blue suit of armor next to me. I swiped my hand through it, and it rippled like water.

  “What is this?” Milo shouted to be heard over the rushing wind. He was on his knees, covering his head, pistol in hand. “Is it like a hologram?”

  Another shape was rising up through the floor, even bigger than Management. This one was pitch-black. It originated from an entirely different form of magic. The glowing blue dragon got ready to fight.

  “It’s a memory.”

  The nightmare dragon rose, dwarfing Management, absolutely filling the cavern. It had been the Nachtmar’s ultimate form. It snarled something incomprehensible, probably in the ancient dragon tongue. But our pudgy old dragon wasn’t going to back down from any challenge, no matter how unwinnable. Management flung himself across the space, claws spread, tail whipping.

  Imaginary or not, it was still scary as hell.

  Priceless treasures went flying. A super car was tossed, flipping end over end through the air, only to be struck by the Nachtmar’s tail and launched back across the cave. The flame world shook as the real world stood still, a memory of an earthquake. The noise was inconceivable. Glowing boulders fell from the ceiling. One flashed right through Milo and exploded into gravel when it struck. He looked around, bewildered, but unharmed.

  The dragons were crashing back and forth, claws sunk into each other. Glowing blood spilled. Their necks were intertwined, teeth snapping. But it was like watching a child fight a grown man. The Nachtmar got a mouthful of wing, and there was a horrific crunch as he bit through Management. My host screamed. The Nachtmar struck with unbelievable fury, hurling Management down, right through where we were standing, and for an instant I could see bones and internal organs. But Management slid right through us. He hit the wall and bright blue fire rolled up one of the cracks in the wall, demonstrating how it had been created.

  Only Management was one tough old bugger; he rolled over and went right back to it. This was his house and he was going to defend it. But ten seconds later his head made another dent in the cave as the Nachtmar effortlessly threw him down.

  Management was dragging himself away, crashing through his hoard. The nightmare followed, looming over him and speaking again in the dragon tongue. I didn’t understand Dragon, but I knew the Nachtmar enough to know he was gloating. Then he turned in a flash and vanished through the real world’s fallen rocks.

  I knew exactly what happened next.

  Sides heaving, it took a minute for the old dragon to catch his breath. Management’s gigantic head, lacerated and torn, had stopped only a few feet away from where I was standing. One horn was splintered and broken. “Activate radio. MHI channel three.” The dragon coughed. “I’m sorry, Mr. Pitt. It would appear that I have underestimated our foe.”

  I heard my own voice as if it was coming from speakers on the wall. “Management? Is that you?”

  “Yes. I did my best, but I could not stop him. He ripped it from my mind. He combed through my treasures…He went back to the beginning when I was a hatchling and the great dragonfathers ruled the sky. Beware…He means to devour you.”

  That was when we had lost contact, and the terrifying creation had come after us.

  “Mr. Pitt. You are our only hope to defeat the nightmare. Can you hear me, Mr. Pitt? Come in.” Management’s breathing was labored. “Drat.”

  I stared into those shining dinner-plate-sized eyes. It was like he was looking right through me. It was hard to read a dragon’s expression, but I saw sadness. It quickly turned to realization. Management lifted one shaking claw, jabbed the tip into the stone, and made a mark. Those in particular hadn’t been battle damage. The sign had to be some form of dragon magic and how he’d left me this message.

  “I make a desperate gamble…You have been chosen. If you survive today, I know what you will do. If you can hear me now it is because you have defeated the Nachtmar, and returned because we were denied the opportunity to finish our conversation.” He wheezed. “The cause…The being who released this nightmare upon us, I have prepared a dossier about him. I dared not transmit it for risk of interception. However, I was not so foolhardy to fail to prepare a backup. Go to the Law Offices of Rondeau, Katz and Smith. Ask for Benjamin Rondeau.”

  The dragon’s eye flicked over to the side, where the suit of armor had been caught in a burst of dragon fire during the battle. The steel had gone all soft and bendy in the heat. “Oh, that belonged to Henry the Eighth. What a shame. Curse this dreadful Nachtmar. I hope you make the fiend suffer, Mr. Pitt.”

  “We killed the hell out of him,” I answered. Not that he could actually hear me.

  “The Nachtmar is just a symptom. There will be others until you tear this evil out by the roots.” Management’s voice had died off to a whisper. “My people called him…Asag.”

  When he said that name, the blue fire flared violently. By the time I could see again, the fires were shrinking and the glow fading. The treasures began to disintegrate around us. Bits of blue fire broke away, drifting upwards, until they blinked out of existence. It was like standing in a field made of static.

  “Mr. Pitt, or whichever Chosen hears these words, may your God of light guide your way…” Management closed his eyes. “Now, I must rest…”

  The dragon disappeared.

  I blinked a few times. The cave had returned to normal.

  My friends were staring at me, dumbfounded.

  “You guys heard that too, right?”

  Trip gave a vigorous nod. “Man, you’re just full of surprises.”

  “The light show was the dragon’s doing. The rest, I’m still getting the hang of.”

  “But did he survive?” Milo asked.

  “No idea. I hope so.” He had really been in bad shape. More than likely they’d butchered him into easily managed pieces, and those were being studied in some MCB facility. “I really like the old guy.”

  “I bet he made it.” Trip was an optimist. Plus, he had always been a sucker for anything magical and not super evil. “Let’s get out of here before Eddings gets arrested, they cut the ropes, and we’re stuck.”

  “Let’s go find this Rondeau…Ah hell, that was so distracting I almost forgot now we’ve got to climb up an elevator shaft.”

  “Worth it!” At least Milo was pumped. “Holographic dragon fight was way cooler than Laser Floyd. This trip has been great!”

  CHAPTER 4

  The Law Offices of Rondeau, Katz and Smith were in a really nice building a few miles from the Last Dragon. According to Eddings it was one of those big corporate firms with a local rep for being a bunch of cutthroat mega-sharks. Since Management was so absurdly rich and secretly invested in everything, it made sense that he’d keep a fleet of high-powered lawyers on retainer.

  After having breakfast at a greasy spoon, we said our goodbyes to the Las Vegas team, then stopped at our hotel and changed out of our construction worker outfits. Since our next stop was upscale, we needed to look the part. I hadn’t brought a suit, but I could at least step it up to a shirt with buttons and pants without fifteen extra pockets. I’d been a corporate accountant, I could pull off business casual. Trip on the other hand actually managed to look comfortable in a tie, though I think that was only because that was how he dressed for church every Sunday. And Milo…well, considering the stylish blazer he’d brought along was bright green and purple—it made him look like the Riddler—we’d just leave him in the parking lot.

  So the three of us left to pay a visit to
Management’s lawyer. Eddings hadn’t been lying, it really was a fancy establishment. The cheapest car in the lot was a new Audi. There were lots of young, hard-charger, Harvard-grad-looking assholes heading into work, wearing expensive suits, expensive haircuts, and drinking overpriced coffees. My immediate dislike for them told me that maybe Mom’s frugal nature had rubbed off on me. This was probably the sort of place that Grant Jefferson had done his lawyering.

  As Trip and I walked up the steps to the entrance, the first clue that something had gone wrong recently was the work crew replacing a window on the top floor. The next was the police tape blocking off some of the landscaping beneath. There were still little shiny bits of glass in the flowerbed. Inside, the receptionists were all dressed in black and some of them looked like they’d been crying recently.

  Trip gave me a nervous glance. Uh-oh.

  I went up to the desk. She had a little nameplate in front of her that read Marcy. “Hi. I’d like to talk to Mr. Rondeau.”

  She tried to remain professional, but at the mention of the name she immediately got weepy. “I’m sorry, but he passed away recently.”

  “I’m so sorry to hear that.” I gritted my teeth. Our target must have found out Management was keeping tabs on him. Outwardly, I remained calm, but inside I really wanted to swear and kick something. “I’m shocked.”

  Trip knew me well enough that he could tell I was pissed, so he stepped in. “Do you mind me asking what happened?”

  “The police said he committed suicide.” Now she was getting really teary eyed and even had to reach for a Kleenex. It must be nice having a receptionist who actually seemed to like people. We had Dorcas. “It was terrible. Ben was the nicest boss ever. He seemed fine. Then one day he just jumped out of his window.”

  “That’s so tragic. I’m terribly sorry.”

  “He had a wife and an ex-wife with kids.”

  “The best thing you can do is reach out, let them know they’re loved, and keep them in your prayers.” And when somebody as genuinely good-natured and well-intentioned as Trip said stuff like that, it was obviously not just meant as a platitude. He actually seemed to cheer her up a little. “Was he all by himself?”