by Aaron Crash
Pru saw that. Holy shit, Javier Jones had played this perfectly. How could they not trust him now? And yet, she was a girl who enjoyed skepticism above all else. Double agents were hard to trust, if they were any good.
“He knows about the Americos Chambers,” Sabina murmured. She placed delicate fingers on Pru’s shoulder. The touch felt electric.
Javier raised his eyebrows. “I know some things.”
Sabina moved away from Pru, and it was both a relief and a disappointment. She went over to a small outdoor fridge set in the stone next to the grill. She opened the door and slid out three bottles of Negro Modelo. Returning, she opened one and gave it to Javier. “You are thirsty. You knew this was a good plan, but you were afraid. You’re less afraid now, but you are uncertain. You so want to be a part of Steven’s dynasty, and yet you are a proud Dragonlord.”
“What color underwear is he wearing?” Chazzie grinned.
Javier sipped his beer.
Sabina opened another for Chazzie. When the Latina Magician gave Pru hers, she let her finger rest on Pru’s hand for just a second. Pru was being teased. It was frustrating. It was arousing.
“He’s not wearing underwear,” Sabina said. “He has always been fascinated by the Americos Chambers, even when he was little, a long, long time ago. Yes, Javier, they are connected, and they were originally made to fight the Zothoric, when a small number arrived on Earth, searching for prey.” She circled the table once more, and when she walked by Pru, she traced a finger across her neck. Then she returned to her chair. The emerald light pouring out of her eyes faded.
“Sabina is good,” Chazzie said, “but some of that is from Cactus Bill. You know Bill, right?”
“Si. He is a strikingly handsome man with a crippling mental illness.” Javier set his beer on the table and struck a fingernail through the label. It was so casual, he might’ve been in a bar in Juarez. He seemed so normal, so every day.
Man drinks beer. Picks at label. Sure. All that was fine as long as he stayed upright.
“I’ve spoken to Bill,” Javier said, “and I’ve offered him work. He declines, saying he must be free, yet he has helped me now and again. Nonetheless, let us return to the issue of Spider Finger. If he used me, might he be using Roy Right and his coalition?”
Pru was going to call a spade a spade. “Roy Right, Abner Savedra, and Jem Osprey.”
Javier nodded. He went to speak, but Chazzie raised a finger. “Hold that thought. Let’s go through this real quick like, sister.”
Pru blinked her eyes. “In front of Señor Lodolite here?”
“Yeah, I don’t much care about him. And our wicked witch of the South isn’t seeing into the future at the moment. Let’s just run through it like we do.”
“I really—” Javier tried to speak.
Pru gave him a look. “Hush now, JJ. You ain’t a dog, but you certainly aren’t a Wayne.”
Chazzie started. “Spider Finger gives JJ the lodolite mojo.”
“Yeah, that’s right, which is fine, and we have to assume he’s helping Roy Right with this coalition. Roy is neither a brainiac nor an evil genius.”
“No, he’s more of a creepy uncle with a gambling problem.”
“Right,” Pru agreed. “We know Spider Butt was behind Carlo Bart Baxter and the Americos Chamber hijinks. The arachnid used the chambers to lure Steven and the gang down to Odessa. If he could do that, he could do other things with them.”
“Who do you think created the Americos Chambers? I think Cactus Bill tried to tell us, but I got confused with all that talk of his.”
“Amen. And it don’t much matter. Probably all dead and gone. Or it certainly might be the Dragonknights.”
“Dragonknights?” Javier asked in a surprised voice.
Chazzie did not like the interruption. “We said hush! If we want you to talk, we’ll tell you to talk.” Back to Pru. “There were three of them statues in the chambers. It could be that Roy, Savedra, and Jem Osprey might not be the young bucks we think they are.”
“Jem Osprey is only about a hundred and fifty years old. We know that for a fact. His daddy gave him California back when it was only California and not NorCal and SoCal. The chambers date back to Hammurabi.”
“I think Cactus Bill said that the three statues were a Dragonsoul messiah, a powerful Magician, and a third worm, with a mind lost to time.”
“Well, now, that seems to me both cryptic and unhelpful. But Mr. Jones is waiting on us. What do we need from Javier?”
“If there is one master chamber that connects all the Americos Chambers, we need to know that, we need to find it, and we need to know how to deactivate it. Then Steven can come home.”
“We know how to deactivate it,” Pru said. “I remember this part from Cactus Bill’s ramblings. ‘Blood from the dragon and the dragon is sent away. Blood on the eye and the dragon can stay.’ That’s Steven’s blood. We need to get Steven to the master chamber.”
A chastised Javier sat quietly, drinking his beer.
Pru turned to him. “Well?”
He swallowed. “Well, what?”
Chazzie snapped her fingers. “Keep up, JJ. Where is the master Americos Chamber? Jesus H. Biscuits, these men. If they ain’t talking, they ain’t listening.”
“Mmm hmm. That’s a fact, sister.”
“And they aren’t very good at talking even when they do,” Sabina put in behind them.
Javier spoke in a quiet voice. “That is something I do not know. And finding such a place will be difficult. There are hundreds of Americos Chambers spread across the North American continent. It would take weeks if not months to find the right one.”
He abruptly stood up.
Pru gasped in shock. She expected to die at any minute.
The Sonoran Desert Prime reached up, stretched, bent to his left, then bent to his right. His phone rang, and he answered it. “Yes, I believe it is relatively safe. We are in unit 28.”
Pru took her hand out of the clay and threw it at Javier. It bounced off him and splashed into the pool.
Chazzie stared daggers at him. “You bluffing son of a bitch!”
Pru, though, was kind of impressed.
“That was Eve Downfyre on the phone,” Sabina said. “She’ll be here shortly.”
“Brujas, always so mysterious.” Javier laughed and started to strip. “I believe I shall have a swim. Then some food. We can all see what Eve knows about the current affairs.”
Eve Downfyre was Clete Sariah’s wife, and his face in public. Why was she coming to visit Javier? What was going on there?
Pru had something else on her mind, however. She was wondering about her and Sabina’s prophesized kiss. Wondering about it was one thing, but with how cool and beautiful the Latina Dragonskin was now? Pru surprised herself by wanting the kiss and wanting it a lot.
She had no firsthand experience with Divination magic, but it seemed it took a lot of Animus. Without Steven around, Sabina would need to fill her tank. And it seemed Pru was the one who was destined to do the job.
Chapter Twenty
“UH, I’M HAVING A VERY Indiana Jones moment,” Tessa said from behind Steven and Mouse.
He and the blonde were using their swords to hack their way through the greenery covering a lost trail in the central jungles of Bali.
They’d tried turning into dragons and flying over the jungle, but finding their destination, supplied by the torch map, was difficult—too many trees and leafy fronds. The trail was slower, but the way more certain. The scent of burning leaves filled the air, but that was probably from the rice fields they’d walked through. The stalks were burned and then used to fertilize the soil for the next round of crops.
Or was it from Mount Batur in the distance? The active volcano leaked smoke into the sky. The ash didn’t do a thing to protect them from the harsh tropical sun. Those who could eventually stuffed their clothes into their backpacks and shifted into their Homo Draconi forms to escape the oppressive humidity.
The Dashell R. Jet was safely in a hangar at the Denpasar airport. Skylar, in her auburn-colored True Form, flew overhead, scouting and making sure nothing attacked them from the sky or from behind.
They weren’t the only dragons on the island.
Steven and Mouse took the lead, Tessa and Zoey were in the middle, and Aria walked as the rear guard. The Indian dragon held aloft the Dragonknight torch. Every so often, Aria would focus her Animus on the torch, and it would come alive, sparkling with lightning. The electricity would become a map, and that was what they were following to find the next clue to the Dragonknight mystery.
Uchiko stayed in the shadows, sometimes behind them, sometimes appearing ahead. She would be the shadow that would strike in case they were attacked. And they might be.
Someone was following them, or so Uchiko said. Steven had cast a Divination spell, but he hadn’t seen anything. The spell had sent him to the past, back to the Oregon coast, in the Dragonknight Chamber, which made sense. The magic there was pushing them to the magic here.
Steven thought of the words they’d heard in the Dragonknight Chamber. The daughter of Merlin will open the first eye, but the grail will remain hidden until the lost son returns to free us all.
It was interesting that Tessa had touched the torch to trigger the Dragonknights’ round table, but now it was connected to Aria. Both Steven and Tessa had tried to activate it, but it had refused their Animus. Steven had gotten better at feeling the core of energy filling his center. He hadn’t tried AnimusChain yet, however. He had the idea that the spell could do some real damage to him and others if he started flinging it around.
Steven told his Escort to act normal but keep their eyes open. He swept away some vines with Samael’s Lash. Mouse slashed away others with the Slayer Blade. She let out a grunt and growled, “I should be fine as a Homo Draconis, but dammit, I still feel hot.”
Tessa was literally dripping with sweat, as was Zoey, who’d experimented shifting into different animals but eventually settled on human. Bear, wolf, and boar weren’t doing it for her, and she wasn’t sure how to transform into a giant monitor lizard.
Both wore shorts and white concert T-shirts, Metallica’s Creeping Death for Tessa and a Hinder shirt for Zoey. The cotton clung to their sweaty chests. While Zoey went barefoot, Tessa wore big hiking boots.
The barista sighed. “This is one of the only times in my life I wish I were poikilothermic. Little-known fact, the only mammal that is not a homeotherm is a naked mole rat.”
No one responded.
Tessa sighed again. “Oh, yeah, I joke about movies, and you’re fine with that. I give you science, and you’re baffled. Let me break it down for you. Poikilotherms have core temperatures that change with their environment. Homeotherms have a constant body temperature. Want more science, bitches? Endotherms produce their own heat whereas ectotherms get their heat, again, from the environment they are in.”
More silence. Mouse blew out a breath, a half-dragon with a broadsword in her fist.
Steven laugh-grumbled out of his big Homo Draconis throat. “As dragons, we’re all of that and none of that. The Animus basically helps regulate our temperature through magic. So much for your science, Tessa.”
Merlin’s daughter rolled her eyes. “Just because there hasn’t been any sort of clinical research on Dragonsoul anatomy doesn’t mean science can’t figure that magic shit out.”
Uchiko appeared in front of them. She wasn’t in her jumpsuit but wore a batik-patterned tunic. The clothing was loose on her. Fear shined in her eyes. “Steven, come. I found something. I found... him...”
Steven didn’t know that that meant, but he knew Uchiko wanted him to come with her, alone. “You guys rest up here, drink lots of water, and I’ll go with Uchiko.”
Aria frowned. “What did you find? Is it dangerous? Whatever we are seeking is still at least a kilometer ahead.”
Uchiko didn’t answer. She threw a pleading look at Steven.
“It’s okay. Uchiko and I will scout ahead,” Steven said. “Just wait here. If I need you, I’ll call.” Uchiko carried his phone in a case attached to her quiver. Tessa had hers in her ever-present leather satchel.
The Skinling ninja turned and disappeared through palm fronds. Steven gripped Samael’s Lash. He hardly felt the leaves and vines slide across his scales. The trail widened. The dirt track turned into a path made of stones. Well, at least they were done churning through mud and slashing away the jungle.
Fifty feet ahead, Uchiko waited for him. Her sickle-chain was over her shoulder. She also had a short bow slung around her with a quiver of arrows. Throwing stars weighed down a leather belt around her middle.
Steven approached her. Then he saw what she had seen. A statue of a man rose above them, twelve feet tall. The elements had eaten away the stone, but some of his features were visible. He had Asian features, a long moustache, and long hair curling around his shoulders. On his neck was a symbol, a stylized dragon head, similar to the head on the Dragonsoul skill tree.
“I know who this is,” Uchiko whispered. “I know that mark. It was on the man who made me.”
This was what she had been afraid of. Her secrets were going to come out, and Steven knew she was afraid he’d leave her forever because of her dishonor. And there hadn’t been simply one mistake or tragedy, but multiple over the years.
Steven took her hand. “Can I cast a Divination spell to try and see into your past?”
Sorrow crushed her face. “Yes. But you will hate me, my Prime. You will loathe me for what I have done and what I have failed to do.”
Steven took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He’d never tried anything like this, but it felt right. He reached out with his mind and once again sensed her Animus as well as his own. His spun perfectly inside him, but hers wheeled off-kilter. Once linked, he cast the Divination magic.
He saw a trail through the jungle, the Balinese jungle, and a shadow slipping through the trees, in black, a long bow and a quiver of arrows over her shoulder. At first, he thought it was Uchiko, but no, it was someone else.
Then it was gone.
He didn’t fight his vision but focused on Uchiko and the statue above him. That symbol wasn’t just a symbol; it was a brand. The man wasn’t a man, but a Dragonsoul, ancient, powerful, and he’d been driven into hiding.
Someone had hunted dragons a thousand years ago. The Dragon Slayer. Dragonsouls fell before the Slayer by the hundreds, males and females alike, from the disintegrating empire of Japan to the Song Dynasty in China to the rough bearded tribes of men in Europe still clinging to the Roman Empire, in both religion and politics. Even the shining Islamic Empire was not free from the vicious Dragon Slayer. Scholarly Dragonsouls huddled in fear in the venerable University of Al Karaouine.
No one knew if the Dragon Slayer was a man or a woman, but all agreed they were beardless and powerful. Some swore it was a woman, and so people referred to the Slayer as “her” and “she.”
The branded Dragonsoul fled to Honshu and hid in the chaos of warlords battling for the scraps of an aging dynasty, the very beginnings of feudal Japan. Steven felt the history of both man and dragon, and then he saw Uchiko.
She was in the garden of the palace, walking, very slowly, very sad. The branded dragon saw her, clearly for the first time. He was such a soft soul, such a hard warrior, who called himself “Niwashi,” which was simply the word for gardener.
“His name was Niwashi,” Steven muttered.
“Yes!” Uchiko choked out.
His vision switched to one of the future, and Steven saw them entering a Balinese temple up ahead, a vast complex of green statues, splashing fountains, and rainbow-studded waterfalls. It was a place of beauty, but it would become a place of death.
He refocused while at the same time letting go. It was as hard as letting go of a thought, as easy as focusing on his next breath.
“Niwashi came to you,” he said. “He asked you about your grief. He offered
you a deal.”
He saw into the past. Niwashi, the grand Dragonsoul, hid as a gardener just as he hid his brand with a piece of cloth tied around his throat. No one could guess he was anything more than a servant. And then there was Oe Uchiko, a very human girl, new to womanhood, the daughter of a daimyo named Muramasa Gin. She was a princess, and her father, Oe Bunji, had been crushed by the Muramasa clan. The feud had been long-fought and bitter. And when the Muramasa won, Uchiko’s family betrayed her and dishonored themselves. Instead of suicide, Oe Bunji offered up his daughter as tribute.
Oe Uchiko was young and beautiful, and she had a young woman’s sense of right and wrong. Her ideas were as rigid as her sense of honor.
Muramasa-dono took their offer of flesh. The Oe clan was finished, degraded, dishonored, while he was victorious and had his prize, a beautiful woman by his side. Uchiko was a wife pleasant to look upon, though her every glance was full of hatred.
Uchiko spoke. “Niwashi gleaned my story. And he said he would teach me to kill. He had learned the ways of the ninja to hide, to sneak, to become one with the shadows. The masters Daisuke Togakure and Kain Doshi taught him to hide and hide well. I did not know it at the time, but Niwashi feared the Dragon Slayer. As did all dragons.”
Steven heard her words, but he was still gazing into the past, watching the filthy servant and the pale princess talking. Determination blazed in the young Uchiko’s eyes. She would kill the man who had humiliated her family.
Yet there was a price.
“A life for a life,” Uchiko whispered. “He would train me as ninja. I would kill Muramasa-dono. He would train me as Dragonskin. And I would take the life of his enemy. Niwashi was my teacher, my lover, my doom.”
Steven could taste the past, images filled his head, and he couldn’t quite believe how real it all felt: the pagodas in the middle of the cherry trees, dripping pink blossoms as if celebrating the death that autumn would bring. The soft wind, the softer rains, the paper walls, the kimonos, the slippers, the wooden shoes, the tea, the rice, the fish crumbling on lacquer plates, poets reading the Tales of Genji, another country, another world, another time.
