by Jada Fisher
“Most of us aren’t hiding,” Bronn said wryly. “We’re either dead or helping evacuate the humans.”
“Well, apparently, they haven’t put that together yet.”
“Probably because they can’t even fathom the idea of dragons putting themselves at risk to help mere humans,” Mal remarked with no undue dryness to her tone. And if anyone understood anti-humanist dragons who thought they had won, it was her.
“So that was the full vision? Interrogation.”
Mickey’s eyes slid to the side and I knew she was holding something back. I gave her a look and it was clear that she knew that I knew. Ah, the inconvenience of having a close sibling sometimes.
“There was some torture on the side. I think he plans to make an example by feeding a few of them to the dragons that are gathering.”
I paled at that, swallowing hard. Being eaten by a dragon was…not pleasant, and I’d only gotten a brief trial of the whole experience.
“That’s awful.”
She nodded, chewing on her lip some more. I didn’t know where either of us had picked up the habit, but it probably wasn’t very healthy. The silence only grew in our group, as if everyone were waiting for someone else to speak.
As it so happened, we all broke around the same moment.
“So what do we—”
“We can’t just—”
“There has to be a way we—”
“We have to save them.”
The four of us stopped short, with Sokhanya’s head swiveling this way and that as if she was still trying to catch all of our mouths moving at the same time. There was another beat of tension before Mickey clapped her hands and sat up straighter.
“So, it seems like we’re all in agreement. Time for yet another rescue mission.”
Oh boy. It never ended, did it?
It probably would have been more practical to find some dwarves and send them after their captured brethren. But considering there was no telling when we would find the main group and no assurance we wouldn’t be caught in the meantime, it made more sense to send the magic users and the dragon shapeshifter to infiltrate the prison we were going to bust the captured out of.
Except it wasn’t really a prison, but rather one of the local mansions that hadn’t been razed by the rotted dragon. It was still being used to hold people against their will, so close enough.
I could tell that Bronn wasn’t the keenest on the whole idea, especially since it involved both Sokhanya and I, but what could I say? I’d been bedbound for over a month, barely clinging to life, and now that I could, I wanted to fight. I wanted to do something.
Even if that something was only driving a car.
The funny thing was, while I wasn’t exactly skilled at driving and I certainly didn’t have my license considering that Mickey and I were never going to be able to afford a car, my sister and I were the closest to being able to do what was needed for the mission. Before that, it’d been Mallory who had been the main driver—even if she had to sit on phonebooks or use blocks on her feet to reach the gas.
As always, the reminder of her filled me with a white-hot sort of pain that was mixed with a numbing sense of loss. I still didn’t want to believe that she was gone. The doctor said that I probably had PTSD from the incident, which sure, having a diagnosis was great but didn’t really help me much during the actual apocalypse.
I had all this power; I’d even come back from the dead. It didn’t make sense that I couldn’t do something to bring her back. Like my own personal death-spirit had said, I was the King of Loopholes, or something like that. Surely, I could find one for my best friend in the entire world.
The friend that I had turned my back on.
A hand shook my arm gently and I glanced over to Sokhanya, who was looking up at me worriedly. Right. We were on our mission and I needed to concentrate. I couldn’t risk all of our lives. I needed to compartmentalize, and maybe after all the dwarves were saved, I could think about everything churning inside of me.
Then again, there was always something to run toward, right? Something to bury myself in until I forgot all about the present and only existed on adrenaline and turmoil. Maybe it would just stay that way for the rest of my second life.
And all things considered, that might not even be all that long.
I pulled my hoody down over my frame, partially to feel secure in my disguise and partially because I was absolutely freezing. I couldn’t remember the last time I was so cold, but it was like the fall wind cut right through me in an instant.
Of course, the term ‘disguise’ could only be used loosely. Obviously, the dragons were on the lookout for any of our descriptions, but other than Bronn, all of us were pretty easy to subvert.
For example, I didn’t look like myself at all. I didn’t need a mirror when I could glance down at myself and see all the planes and curves of my body were different. My soft stomach and pooch were gone, leaving mostly sagging skin. My biceps were gone—one quite literally. My powerful thighs? Not so much anymore.
Even my hair was wrong. All the coloring and blond parts had long since grown out. Since I wasn’t really able to brush and maintain any of that during my hospital stay, I’d asked Mickey to cut it like old times. Instead of hair past my shoulders, I was rocking a shaggy cut not too different from Sokhanya.
I appreciated my body for getting me through all that it had gotten me through, but there was this intense feeling of it not being mine. It was even worse than when I had first awoken in my new golem, because at least that form had looked and felt like I was supposed to.
As for Mal, her hair shoved up in a beany, wearing an oversized t-shirt with leggings, suddenly she looked like every middle schooler ever. I wasn’t even sure they knew what Krisjian looked like, but once he heard he was accompanying Sokhanya and I on our part of the mission, he’d shaved his head with one of the emergency knives.
That had been shocking, to say the least, but he just shrugged it off and said it would grow back. Not that the young man had the longest, most beautiful hair in the world, but it was still pretty shocking for me to watch someone just massively change their appearance without a lick of hesitation. Sometimes, the youngest oracle reminded me that, even with the tense childhood that I’d had, I was still pretty spoiled.
Mickey just wet her hair and didn’t brush it, rubbed at it the wrong way with some of the emergency blankets. That was enough to have it frizz up and turn into basically a bush around her head, which she wrestled into two poofy buns. I always loved when she let her hair have a natural texture, but since she wore it that way so rarely, it was unlikely that any of the anti-humanist dragons had ever seen her like that.
Then there was Sokhanya. If there was anyone who had changed the most, it was her. With her figure filling out, her face no longer gaunt, her eyes unclouded, and her rash gone, I didn’t think any of the dragons had a hope of recognizing her.
Granted, considering the circumstances I had found her in, I’d be surprised if any of them could recognize her properly clothed.
Another shake of my arm. Right, I was drifting. I looked at the phone Bronn had given me to use. It was close to the time for our plan.
Although ‘plan’ was another generous word considering we’d thrown it together in less than a day based on one vision and our collective knowledge of the city. But ‘suicide mission’ didn’t really have the same positive ring to it.
Besides, it was almost our fifth or so impossible mission. After a while, the shock and awe wore off.
“We need to find a car,” I said, turning to make sure I faced my deaf friend. I had a notebook in my pocket in case it was urgent, but if she wanted to practice reading lips then I would support that. I still wanted to learn ASL once the world went back to normal but that was… Yeah, that was a heady thought in and of itself. “One with the keys inside. The others think that because of the quick evacuation, that shouldn’t be that hard.”
“Oh, are we not just going to hotwi
re one?” Krisjian asked, popping up from the dumpster he’d apparently gotten into while I was drifting.
“I don’t know how to hotwire a car, and also, what are you doing in there?”
“Just seeing if I could find any valuable.” When I continued to give him a look, he shrugged and climbed out. “Old habits. But in any case, I know how to hotwire one of your automobiles. Or…at least I do in theory.”
I took a breath. “And let me guess, Mal taught you that?”
“We learned together, actually. On the video site that has many tutorials.” A wistful sort of expression crossed his face. “And cats doing many funny things. I miss the cats.”
If that wasn’t just about the most adorable thing I hadn’t been expecting at all.
“I miss the cats too, Krisjian.” I looked to Sokhanya, who was watching us with a slightly perplexed expression. Did she know about dancing cats? Cats playing keyboards? Did she even remember what it was like to interact with a house pet? All questions that I added to my ever-growing list for after the apocalypse. “Anyways, do you have whatever tools you need to hotwire?”
“Yes, this is why Mal wanted me to accompany you. How else did you think you would gain access to a vehicle?”
“Honestly, I didn’t even think about it until we got here.”
“That is concerning.”
“Tell me about it.” Usually our fly-by-the-seat plans had at least a little more detail to them, but I had a feeling all our minds were a bit on edge and frayed from the whole situation. We’d been in bad positions before, but we’d never really been thoroughly defeated. And with the rotted dragon roosting in the largest building in the city, I would say that was about as defeated as one could get.
Krisjian shrugged as if that was about all that could be said on the matter and approached the street. It was eerie how empty they were, echoing several of the awful dreams and visions that I’d had in the past.
“We look for van,” he said as he walked past several cars. “As plain as possible. Truck if we’re desperate, but it will be easier to pick off anyone in the back.”
Sokhanya tugged my arm, holding up her own phone that she’d texted a message into.
Big enough four all?
“Considering that hopefully Bronn will be carrying at least a few out…maybe?” I answered back, eyes scanning the street. “Mal can drive, but she’s the one who’s infiltrating with Mickey while Bronn runs the distraction.”
And what a distraction it was. The renegade prince of the humanist dragons spotted running for supplies just outside the city? That was sure to draw a huge number to the pasture that we’d picked out. Unfortunately, there was most definitely going to be loss of bovine life, but with any luck, all of it could be scavenged later to feed the folks in the city. Waste not, want not.
Of course, what the enemy didn’t know was that one of the entrances to the underground was under the barn on the very far side of that pasture. It didn’t lead to the main complex that had partially collapsed but to a long tunnel that led to a drop-off near the mansion, one that had been used for transporting supplies back when minecarts were a thing. We were hoping that all the travel time he cut off would allow us to also use him as an ambush measure.
It made me nervous using him as both bait and battering ram, but I didn’t really have any grounds to object after some of the insane things I’d done.
Oh well.
Boy drive?
I shook my head. “Krisjian can’t—”
“What did she say?” he asked, popping out from behind a minivan. I wasn’t sure how he moved so silently and quickly or if my senses were still a bit dull from my brain recovering, but I was startled either way. “I can speak for myself.”
“She wants to know if you can drive so we can take two vehicles.”
“That would be smart. Your sister said there were nearly twenty dwarves there.”
“No, it’s not a part of the plan.”
“Our plan was made in two hours in a sewer. There’s a lot that’s not part of our plan.”
He had a point, but I was feeling protective, alright? I’d already lost so much, the thought of the youngest of our group risking his life behind the wheel skeeved me out. Even if comparatively it wasn’t even that dangerous.
“Why didn’t you mention this before?”
“I am not overly familiar with cars. I assumed that one large vehicle could fit many.” He wrinkled his nose as he surveyed the cars around us. “I will walk more, but so far, all of these can fit perhaps fifteen at most. Dwarves are not as small in real life as they are in the movies you have shown me.”
I thought back to the wide range I’d met, a few shorter than Mallory ranging all the way to about five and a half feet, I had to guess. They weren’t like humans with dwarfism, not at all. Instead, they all seemed to be fairly broad and muscular, ranging from as dark as onyx with an almost blue undertone to their skin to paler than even Mallory had been—and she was always very fair-skinned. I’d never seen a single one with glasses, although I’d spotted plenty with fingers that were as thick as sausages and thick hair that would have most people drooling over it.
Ah, drifting again. Why hadn’t anyone ever told me that one of the side effects of brain trauma was the inability to hold my concentration? It was like after the fire all over again, my mind scattering even under the best of circumstances.
“Yeah, they’re basically smaller, muscular, and heartier humans, it seems.”
“With great hair.”
So, he had noticed that too.
“Yeah, with great hair.” I shook my head. He was getting me off-track again. “Anyways, even if I were to agree to you driving, what are the chances that we would be able to find two vans that you can—”
“Ah look! That sign is for one of your mechanical shops, yes? I think they would have two vans there.”
I squinted and looked in the direction he was pointing, but he was already halfway across the street, and considering it was after nine, it was already pretty dark.
“I can’t see anything, but if it is, that is some uncanny luck.”
“Luck? I think after everything that has happened I have forgotten the meaning of the word.”
Boy, was that a statement and a half.
“Right, well, lead on. Maybe it’s time for a change in our fortunes.”
“We can only hope.”
I wasn’t sure when Krisjian had gotten so…grown up, but I supposed finding his mentor bleeding out by her collapsed shield then forcing her into unconsciousness so she could be dragged to safety could do a number on anyone. Even a street kid who lived most of his life running or hiding from people who wanted to hurt him.
We find big car?
I nodded to Sokhanya, who was following the conversation surprisingly well considering that all of the streetlights were out.
“Fingers crossed.”
She gave me a curious look combined with a head tilt. I wasn’t sure where I lost her until she slid the phone into her pocket and held up both of her hands, interlacing her fingers with each other. Her eyes flicked to my face, watching as if she was hoping for a sign she got it right.
If it had been any other situation, maybe I would have laughed at just how strangely wholesome that was, but it wasn’t the right time. With a smile, I shook my head.
“It’s a saying. I’ll explain later.” She raised her eyebrows as if doubtful of my words. “I promise. Scout’s honor.” Those dark brows went up further. “I’ll explain that later too. Right now, we should probably hurry after Krisjian.”
She nodded, able to understand who I meant. I understood that spelling his name was a whole lot different than recognizing my mouth shape, but I resolved to teach her how to write out all of our designations later. It was amazing how easy it was to take even simple things like that for granted. I hated to think of what else she had learned since her captivity that none of us had any idea about.
I didn’t let myself drift aga
in and get lost in that line of thought, however, quickly walking after Krisjian. Again, quickly might have not been the right word, but it sure felt speedy considering just how sedentary my life had become.
And that was the reason Sokhanya was with me. I knew that some of the others had wanted her to stay in the sewers with the other refugees who were too injured, young or incongruous for our stealth mission, but the idea of sending me out with just Krisjian had been a no-go for both Bronn and Mickey. That way, even if I was reduced to just stumbling around, I could have one of the smaller people on either side of me.
If I was healthy and fully recovered, I would still be dubious that either of them could support my weight. But as it was… Well, I had no doubts they would be able to handle to me.
We walked into the mechanic’s shop, only a dim light from Krisjian’s crank-flashlight to illuminate the room for us. At first, I was surprised that it wasn’t locked up tight, but then I saw fresh glass on the ground and one of those bar-gates over the window pushed partially inward. Krisjian worked fast, I gave him that.
“Did you find anything?” I called out to the empty room. The bottoms of my feet hurt, and I was a little winded from both our climb out to civilized lands and also the stroll down the street, so I took a moment to lean against the counter. I remembered when I used to be able to spar with Mallory or run up and down the stairs back at the castle or the manor. I’d always been a fan of being strong and built for endurance, but I didn’t feel like I had a handle on either of those things at the moment.
Part of me wanted to whine that if Maedryell was going to fix me, why didn’t she do it all the way, but another part understood that she had used up so much of her energy and magic just to get me back to how I was. When Krisjian and the others had summoned me back from the dead, it had taken all of their combined magic, plus an ancient ritual, plus all the magic that I had siphoned off from the strange no-man’s land I was in plus the huge storm. All the spirit had was the very same curse that had been put on her as a punishment.
