Rise of the Poison Moon

by MaryJanice Davidson

  Jennifer noticed Carrot Helmet frown at the magazine.

  Hank Blacktooth, what a stoop.

  (Stoop (n): abbreviated version of Stupnagel. Origin: an Elmsmithism for “big stupid moron who thinks he’s subtle but ain’t.” e.g.: Hank Blacktooth was a stoop for making them wait outside his crappy makeshift office.)

  They both knew Hank would agree to her mother’s request for a meeting. He would know about her husband’s death, and he would see it as (a) an opportunity to learn how to kill a dragon and (b) gloat.

  They were okay with that (well, Elizabeth was okay with that); in return, they hoped to make him aware of the real threat in town.

  Just as Gautierre, Susan, and Catherine were trying to talk sense into Ember Longtail across town, so she and her mother were trying to talk sense into Hank.

  She hoped they were having more success.

  “Maybe I should have gone with them,” she mused aloud. “Ember’s pretty vicious. It’s not like you need me here—you can take on any number of these idiots.”

  “It’s important for you to be here.”

  “Why? Hank hates me. All I can do is piss him off. Which I’m happy to do, I guess . . .”

  Elizabeth held her hand. “It’s important for you to be here.”

  “Oh.” Gulp. “Sure, Mom. Anything you need.”

  Carrot Helmet abruptly rose from the desk, marched past the empty holding cells, and disappeared through a door at the end of the room.

  Jennifer glanced sideways at her mother, only to see her mother was glancing sideways at her. They shared a rare moment of perfect understanding: freaks!

  “So did Susan tell you she and Gautierre found chickens? Chickens!”

  “That is good news.”

  “Feral ones, apparently—”

  Her mom laughed.

  “I know—but they are, they’re feral because I guess they escaped from what’s- his-name, that really grumpy farmer on the east end of town . . .”

  “Max Featherstone. He wouldn’t sell, so there’s a Chipotle on one side of his field, and a Kentucky Fried Chicken on the other.”

  “Now that’s ironic. As Susan would say . . .”

  “Oh, the humanity.”

  “Right. Anyway, they apparently darted off during an Ember attack last year—”

  Carrot Helmet was back. “Excuse me—”

  Jennifer held up one finger, the way you hold off a waitress so you could finish your menu selection. “Anyway, so a bunch of his hens and the rooster took off, and made nests, and now there are feral chickens that don’t really belong to anyone, which means they belong to all of us. I bet they’ll taste all feral-ey. Mmmm . . .”

  Her mom chuckled again. “That’s great. We should scoop them up on the way back.” Her mom glanced up at the clearly irritated redhead. “What is it, hon?”

  “Mayor Blacktooth will be a moment. He apologizes—”

  “Oh, is he running late?”

  Deep frown. “Anyway, he’ll be right with you.”

  “Thanks. So anyway, honey, not only can you use the eggs for food, but you can grow certain cultures with them, which—”

  “Dr. Georges-Scales?”

  “Hmmm?” Her mother looked around absently. “Oh, we’re fine. We don’t need anything to drink.”

  The redhead’s lips were pressed so tightly together, they’d disappeared. “I was going to remind you that you took care of my brother’s shoulder surgery. About three years ago.”

  “Oh? Was he the ATV accident, or the car wreck?”

  “ATV.”

  “Sure. Mike . . . Mike Whittle.” Her mother’s eyes had gone vague while she tried to remember, then sharpened when she did. “He got out the day before his eighteenth birthday, right? No complications?”

  The invisible lips relaxed and reappeared. Dr. Elizabeth Georges-Scales had a computer-like memory for patients, including names and birthdays, and Jenn could see the redhead instantly loosen up. “Yeah, it—it went really good. I mean, you did good. He’s, y’know, out there.” She gestured vaguely, a gesture they’d all adapted and used to mean Beyond Big Blue.

  “I’m glad.” Her mother looked the woman up and down. “Is that a catlin?”

  She glanced down at her left hip. “Yeah. You won’t believe this, it’s sort of a family heirloom.”

  “It’s terrific. Jennifer, honey, do you know what those were for?”

  “Ear cleaning?”

  “Amputations,” both women said in unison. “It looks brand-new,” her mother continued, not bothering to hide her admiration.

  The woman actually blushed with pleasure. “Well, we’ve always kept it—”

  “I said,” Hank’s voice boomed out of the far office, sounding vastly irritated, “I can see them now, Chief.”

  “Vacation’s over.” Jennifer sighed, standing and stretching.

  “Chief?” her mother seemed impressed. “I knew Mike’s sister was on the force, but I had no idea how far you’d come. Congratulations.”

  “Thanks.” She raised her voice on the off chance they hadn’t heard. “Thanks!”

  Jennifer shook her head. How does Mom do that? Poor Hank, he must know he’ll lose this battle eventually. No one wants to follow a tyrant.

  Not when they can pick someone like Mom.

  CHAPTER 19

  Jennifer

  “Sorry to keep you waiting,” Hank began. He was sitting behind what was once the police chief’s desk. The vanity wall, Jennifer was amused to see, had been stripped of a previous occupant’s awards and replaced with his own Salesman of the Month certificates.

  “Huh,” Jennifer remarked casually as she scanned the wall. “I didn’t know you sold propane, and propane accessories.”

  “I haven’t had much time for it lately,” he replied, missing the amusement in Jennifer’s tone. “I keep them here as a reminder of a better time. A time we might return to, if we can all pitch in together.”

  It’s funny, she told herself. He tries to sound like a leader, but comes out like . . . well, like Salesman of the Month.

  Elizabeth glanced around, noticing the lack of chairs beyond Hank’s own plush, leather, wheeled office chair. “Hmmm.”

  “Excuse me.” Carrot Helmet had bustled in behind them, carrying the plastic chairs they had used in the hallway. “I remembered I forgot to put chairs in here for your meeting, Mayor Blacktooth.”

  “I told you I didn’t—”

  Dr. Georges-Scales beamed a thousand-gigawatt smile at her former patient’s sister. “Thank you, Chief.”

  “Yeah, thanks,” Jennifer added, inwardly chortling at the flash of annoyance that creased Hank’s face like a fleeting wrinkle. She carefully, slowly, deliberately seated herself with a wriggle and appreciative sigh. “Saaay, this is nice.”

  “As I was saying, Lizzy,” Hank said, glaring at Jennifer, “I’m sorry to keep you waiting. I’m sure you can imagine the demands I’ve got on my time these days.”

  “Um? Oh, yes, the burdens of leadership,” her mother agreed, pleasantly enough as the police chief left and shut the door behind her. “Say, it’s lovely to see you promoting the next generation of peace officers so rapidly.”

  Hank shrugged. “We’ve been through three police chiefs since Glory died. I’ve been forced to rely on younger members of the force.”

  Her mother gave him a look from beneath her lashes. “Perkier, too.”

  His cheeks reddened. “So anyhow. What’s on your mind, Lizzy?”

  “You are aware of my husband’s recent death.”

  He bit his lip, trying for a diplomatic moment. “I had heard. How did he die, exactly?”

  “That’s why I’m here.” Elizabeth sat and pulled her chair right up to Hank’s desk. This left Jennifer sitting in the background, which suited everyone fine. Mother had made clear to daughter what her role here would be, and Jennifer waited for that moment. “He died from the same sort of sorcery that destroyed city hall.”

  Hank’s ey
es widened, and Jennifer recognized fear. Good. He gets that we’re all vulnerable.

  “Hank. We’ve not agreed on very much over the years. Since Glory died, it feels like it’s gotten worse.”

  He coughed. “There have been agreements in principle. You’ve rendered aid to dozens of my warriors.”

  “And in return, they’ve left the hospital alone. This has been a wise policy, Hank. Thank you for that. I wonder if we might come to a deeper agreement.”

  “Such as?”

  “My daughter has arranged for her colleagues in the Blaze to search for Skip Wilson and apprehend him. While they do that, it would help matters a great deal if those you command would . . . tone down.”

  This elicited a frown. “Tone down?”

  “No more provocative rallies. No more hobblings. No more killings. Just protection of the innocent.”

  “What do you think we’ve been doing, if not protecting the innocent?” He waved his arms at the walls, and Jennifer didn’t know if he was referring to police actions or outstanding customer service in propane-accessory supply. “What do you think it takes, Lizzy?”

  “I think it takes less drama than you’ve inspired.”

  “You felt the same way about Glory—”

  “Don’t.” Elizabeth took a breath. “Please don’t compare yourself to Glory.”

  “Why shouldn’t I?” His tone was petulant now, as if he had been told he couldn’t have the shiny lollipop in the candy-store window. “Haven’t I led this town during its greatest crisis of the last half century? Haven’t I protected thousands of townspeople from the destruction dragons have loosed upon us? Haven’t I diverted precious resources toward putting out Ember Longtail’s most recent fires—oh, yes, I know what she is up to,” he added in response to their expressions of surprise.

  “If you know—”

  “She wants to starve us out, freeze us out, before this winter is through. We will be ready for her next assault. I will open up this town’s armory, and we will spare no sentiment in eliminating her.”

  Jennifer chewed her tongue. His precise assessment of what Ember was up to disturbed her, because it meant there were things he was doing that were already helpful to them. Did that mean they owed him something?

  “Ember Longtail is a small matter, compared to whoever is aiming at both of us from out there. We have to focus, Hank. It’s a lesson Glory taught all who followed her.”

  “Don’t patronize me. I know plenty about Glory’s lessons.”

  Sensing the diplomatic effort failing, Elizabeth turned to Jennifer. “Perhaps you should pass on your message, honey.”

  “Sure, Mom.” Jennifer turned to Hank. “Mr. Blacktooth, your son gave me a message for you. He told me to tell you he still misses his mother. He wants you to honor her by working with us to end this conflict. He wants us to work together to build a memorial for her, and for the others who have died here.”

  “A memorial for Wendy is in the works,” Hank said. “As you can imagine, in this time of limited resources, when we have to be in a constant state of readiness, it is difficult to find the staff—”

  “I think you may be missing the point of my daughter’s message, Hank.” To no one’s surprise. “Your son wants you to stop what you’re doing. He wants you to take a different path.”

  Hank’s features darkened. “I could say very much the same for him.”

  “If we can’t come to peaceful terms within this dome, how on earth are we going to survive? How are we going to stop our common enemy?”

  “By common enemy, I presume you mean the arachnids and dragons that infest this corner of Minnesota.”

  “I mean, unstoppable missiles, starvation, and exposure to the elements as we run out of fuel!”

  “But not dragons,” he said, and neither of them could figure out if he was being ironic. “Look, it’s this simple: our goals don’t intersect enough. I am fine with your staff continuing to provide medical care to my soldiers, as necessary.”

  “I’ll bet you are,” Jennifer said pleasantly.

  He ignored her. “In return, we will allow the hospital to operate—”

  “I don’t need your permission,” Elizabeth snapped, “to run that hospital.” She stood. “I had hoped a year of governing responsibility would have matured you, Hank. But the problem with you was never immaturity. It was, and still is, sociopathy. You are an intractable leech who bleeds everyone and everything around you, all to the goal of feeding a starved ego that never, ever feels full. No matter how bloated you get off of others’ misery—Wendy’s, Eddie’s, this entire town’s—you will continue to suck, and suck, and suck. You will be the ruin of us all.”

  She turned to her daughter. “Did I miss anything?”

  Jennifer blinked. “I might have added another ‘suck.’ ”

  “Get out of my office!” Hank thundered, rising with a fist in the air and coming around his desk. “Get out of my headquarters! Get out of my town!”

  “I will stay in this town, even if the dome disappears someday; and I will go where I please, when I please.” Elizabeth actually stepped forward into Hank’s advance, making him stop abruptly.

  Jennifer watched, praying he’d try something. Anything. A swing. A sneeze. A seizure.

  “My daughter and I will recruit from among your own staff, showing them a different path than the one you’ve chosen. We will inspire hope where you inspire fear. We will protect the innocent where you torture the helpless. We will do everything we can to render you utterly alone, and when Skip’s swarms come for you—and they will, Hank, someday soon, they will, I know it . . . and you do, too—you will die, utterly alone, unmourned and unloved. Which is far more than you deserve, you stupid, sorry, pathetic little man.”

  She all but pushed a stunned Jennifer out into the hallway and slammed the door behind them. The crash of exactly two upended plastic chairs against the other side of the door made Jennifer flinch. Her mother, however, was already down the hallway.

  “Chief Whittle. I have a proposition for you.”

  CHAPTER 20

  Andi

  Andi woke up to the rattling of the restaurant’s windows, and of the flatware and glassware in the kitchen beyond. She looked out the window and saw fire.

  “Skip, wake up!”

  He was a heavier sleeper, and it took another two or three fireballs landing in the lawn in front of the Cliffside Restaurant to get him fully awake and paying attention.

  When he finally watched a few more land near the building, he collapsed back into bed. “Stop worrying about it. It’s a fishing expedition.”

  “They’re fishing awfully close, don’t you think?”

  “They’ve done it before.” This was technically true. In fact, Tavia had taught them never to stay in one place for too long and to keep all signs of life within hidden from those outside.

  “Never this close, or this intense. Skip, they know we’re here.”

  “No way. There are three dozen structures within a half mile of this restaurant. For all they know, we could be in any of them. They’re not going to light up the entire cliffside, because they don’t really want to hurt anyone. They only want us to reveal ourselves. We need to stay inside. The fires won’t even make it to the structure. Trust me.”

  She looked out the window nervously again. The shrubs that marked the edge of the parking lot were ablaze, but no further fireballs had come.

  The chill, wet autumn air slowly extinguished the burning bushes.

  A few minutes later, she saw and felt a new cascade of meteors, this one at the convenience store down the street. As with the restaurant, they did not hit the building itself.

  Skip’s right. She calmed herself down. They’re not destroying structures. They’re trying to smoke us out. It’s a good thing he kept his head. I would have gotten us into a worse fix. That was stupid of me.

  She lay back down next to him, curled up against his heat, and went back to sleep.

  The follow
ing morning, Skip was less sanguine about the previous evening’s events.

  “They have some nerve, coming after us!”

  “You did kill one of their own,” she reminded him.

  “That was personal, between his family and mine. That didn’t have to involve these other dragons at all. They’re outside the dome, the Scaleses are inside the dome. All they have to do is stay out of my way, and we’ll be fine.”

  “They’re not going to stay out of our way, Skip. They’re going to try to protect Jennifer and the others. It’s what I would do,” she added unconvincingly.

  “Then we have to show them that we won’t respond to threats. We have to show them they don’t have any influence on what we do. In fact, for every night they spend hunting for us, we should be hitting a new target. We’ll pick a new one soon.” He rubbed his hands and went into the dining room, where their latest art project swirled in a restless pile over the tables, chairs, carpet, and walls. “First, let’s deliver this one as planned.”

  Andi nodded. What else could she say? Skip’s arguments made sense; and besides, giving his creatures shape through her music made her feel good. Useful. Loved. Unlike all other sorceries she had ever known, this music did not weaken her, did not cost her anything.

  Not anything she could measure, in any case.

  CHAPTER 21

  Jennifer

  Jennifer was coming off shift on the roof when Susan and Gautierre came back from their full-town patrol. She gracefully slipped off his back as he hit the pavement.

  “Jenn, the police station! It’s under attack!”

  “Skip?”

  Susan nodded.

  “Are they evacuating?”

  Her friend could only shrug. The terror on her face was all Jennifer needed.

  In a split second she was in the air on blue wings, Gautierre close behind her. They were barely over the treetops when they saw the explosion.

  “Cripes!” This blast was fiercer and louder than the one at city hall. He’s getting better at this. The bugs are getting nastier. Chunks of the building a full mile away landed on the houses below their wings, and they could sense the stench of the green plume that rose from the crater.