Me and My Shadow

by Katie MacAlister

  She spoke a few words, and gave me a very toothy smile when Jim reappeared, its eyes rather wild. She even went so far as to pat it a couple of times on the head before turning her perky smile on Bael. “I’m sorry, Lord Bael. I forgot you said . . . I forgot.”

  Bael gave her a long look before turning his head to consider the puddle of Magoth on the floor next to the wall. “He smudged my wall.”

  “He had a little accident in the woods and got a bit dirty,” I explained.

  Bael laced his fingers together and looked back to me. “It would appear he is also unconscious.”

  “He would have just kept pestering me until I knocked him out, so I figured I’d save everyone the trouble of listening to him rant and rave. Which, I assume, he’d do, since I suspect you have something to tell me he isn’t going to like.”

  “Very astute, dragon,” Bael said.

  “Oh, goody, I haven’t missed it,” Sally said, beaming at me. “You’re going to love this, May. Just love it. It’s so—oh my gosh, so wonderful! I couldn’t believe it when Lord Bael told me about it. ‘May is just going to flip when she hears about this,’ I told him, and so you are.”

  “Sally,” Bael said, with a weary gesture.

  “Oh. Sorry. Lips are zipped,” she said, making a zipping action across her mouth. “Go right ahead and make May’s day.”

  Bael leaned back in his chair, seemingly unaware of the wariness in my eyes, saying comfortably, “As I was saying before we were interrupted, there are rules that I must adhere to.”

  “I am tolerably familiar with the Doctrine of Unending Conscious,” I said, mentally going over the set of rules that governed Abaddon for anything appropriate to the situation. Sally’s reassurance of loving the surprise that Bael had for me confirmed my initial impression that I was about to be sent screaming in horror from the room.

  “As your employer so abrasively stated, we must grant him his due now that the expulsion has been appealed, and the appeal denied. Therefore, I am doing just that,” Bael said, flicking his fingers toward me.

  I took a deep breath, holding tight to my anger and the need for the shard to dominate me. “Might I point out that Magoth running amok in the mortal world will have repercussions on Abaddon? You come and go into my world as frequently as you please—do you think you will be able to continue doing so once he rules it? Surely you must realize that he will hold a grudge, and will do everything possible to deny you access to the mortal world.”

  “No one can stop me from doing what I wish,” he said with deceptive mildness. “That said, I have no intention of allowing Magoth to rule any world, let alone one in which I have an interest.”

  I frowned, confused, sliding Jim a glance. Its eyes looked like they were going to bug out of its head. I wanted badly to ask it what it saw that I didn’t, but refrained. Bael would view such an act as a sign of weakness, and above all, I wanted him to continue thinking I was a badass dragon with whom it would be a very bad idea to tangle. “So you won’t be giving him his powers back?”

  “No.”

  “But the Doctrine . . . ?”

  Sally giggled again. “This is so fabulous, May. I can’t believe you haven’t guessed!”

  “Guess what?” I asked, but the second the words left my lips, a horrible idea came over me. I turned to Bael with what must have been an appalled look on my face. “You don’t mean . . . you can’t . . . it’s not possible, is it?”

  “You are Magoth’s consort,” he answered with a little shrug. “As far as the Doctrine is concerned, you and he are of the same body. Therefore, it is to you his powers have been granted. I wish you joy of them, dragon.”

  Chapter Six

  My cell phone rang the same instant I walked in the front door.

  “Gabriel?”

  “Little bird! I got your voice mail. Where are you?”

  “Home. In London, I mean. Bael summoned me to his English home, and pushed me out here rather than Latvia.”

  “What did he want of you? All your twin said is that two demons came to fetch you, but they did not want Magoth. And yet you took him with you?”

  “I had no choice, either in seeing Bael or Magoth coming along.” I gave him a brief recap of what had happened in Bael’s house. “Gabriel, I can’t tell you how upset Magoth is going to be when he finds out. The words ‘going ballistic’ wouldn’t begin to cover the hissy fit he’ll have. Not to mention the fact that I don’t want to be a demon lord. I’m not Aisling. I’m not meant for this sort of thing.”

  “I doubt if Aisling feels she is, either, but that is neither here nor there. Tell me again what Bael said—did he imply you were taking Magoth’s place, or just receiving his powers?”

  “Just getting his powers. Agathos daimon—you don’t think he intends for me to take over Magoth’s seat?”

  “No. He would not want a dragon in power in Abaddon,” he answered slowly.

  Reassurance eased some of the worry that was leaving me feeling itchy and uncomfortable. “What am I going to do with his powers?”

  “I wish I was more learned in the ways of Abaddon, but it’s not something I’ve ever paid attention to. Aisling should be able to help you, however. Or rather, her mentor will, since I doubt if Drake will allow her to do more than speak to you.”

  “I planned on talking to both of them, but figured I’d check with you first to see if there was some way you knew of to unload these powers. Not to mention what on earth we’re going to tell Magoth. And then how we’re going to keep him from going on a rampage.”

  “I will see to it that he is taken care of.”

  I glanced out of the window, noting the taxi driver was struggling with a large object. “I don’t think we have much time. Sooner or later he’ll wake up, and notice he still doesn’t have his powers. He might not guess that Bael would give them to me, but he will find out at some point.”

  “We could ask Aisling’s mentor to banish him to the Akasha.”

  “I have no doubt Nora could do it, but it’s really not such a good idea.”

  “Why not?”

  I made a wry face at Magoth’s body. “Because I’m bound to him, and he has just enough power left to summon me should he so choose. And I can guarantee you that if he was banished, he’d take me with him.”

  Gabriel uttered a word I decided it was best I not acknowledge. “I will have Maata remove him from the house. That should give you a little breathing room.”

  I bit my lip, not sure if it was such a wise thing to have Magoth out of the way. “I suppose that’s the sane thing to do. I’ll start looking around for somewhere safe to keep him. And speaking of that, did you get the phylactery?”

  He hesitated a second. My stomach tightened. “Yes and no.”

  “That sounds ominous. What is the no part? Oh, set him down over there on the couch, would you? Thank you so much. Let me just get my purse. . . . Here you go. Keep the rest.”

  The taxi man deposited the blanket-wrapped form of Magoth where I indicated, eyeing the large denomination of the bill I held out with an avaricious smile that remained on his face as he left the house.

  “The yes refers to the Modana Phylactery—Kostya very grudgingly allowed me to see it to verify it is, in fact, the shard.” There was a muffled sound like that of knuckles cracking.

  “Uh-huh. You don’t happen to have a black eye, do you?” I couldn’t help but ask, suspecting there was a certain amount of physical persuasion that Gabriel had to apply.

  “Mayling, you know full well I do not go out of my way to pick fights.”

  “Of course you don’t. Now, answer the question.”

  He snorted into the phone. “No, I do not have a black eye.”

  I waited for a moment.

  “. . . now.”

  “I knew it. I hope that Kostya fared as well as you.”

  “Oh, yes.” There was a distinct note of pleasure in his silken voice. “I’m told broken noses aren’t particularly painful, but if they aren�
��t set correctly, they can leave a permanent reminder. I find that thought very satisfying.”

  I ignored the grin in his voice. “So you got Kostya’s shard. Then what’s the problem?”

  A heavy sigh sounded in my ear. “The problem concerns the Song Phylactery.”

  “Don’t tell me Chuan Ren is going back on her promise?” I asked, keeping the irritation from my voice.

  “Not entirely. The problem, I gather, stems from the fact that Fiat is technically in charge of the red sept.”

  Maata came into the room, having heard voices. Her eyebrows rose at the sight of the still-unconscious Magoth, but she said nothing other than, “Is that Gabriel on the phone?”

  I nodded.

  “I was just about to call. Tipene said he and Kaawa should be arriving early tomorrow morning.”

  I passed the message along before saying, “Chuan Ren has had, what, almost two months to take care of Fiat? I can’t believe she hasn’t ousted him from her sept since he took it over in a wholly heinous, and surely illegal, fashion.”

  “Heinousness and illegality have nothing to do with it,” Gabriel said, his voice amused. “Chuan Ren would tear Fiat to little shreds and use them in a cat’s litter box if she could find him. But he’s gone to ground, and although he continues issuing commands to the red dragons—which, Jian assures me, no one is following—they can’t find him to formally oust him. And until that’s done—”

  I sat down in the nearest chair, despair pooling in my gut. “Until that’s done, she won’t give up the shard.”

  “No.”

  “Well, ain’t life just a bowl of cherries? What are we going to do?”

  “I have offered Chuan Ren my help in locating Fiat before the sárkány, as has Kostya.”

  “Kostya volunteered to help someone?” I said, then immediately felt ashamed of myself for such a snarky comment.

  “He wishes to be sure there will be no objections to the reinstatement of his sept into the weyr,” Gabriel replied in a neutral tone that spoke volumes.

  “He’s standing right there, isn’t he?”

  “Yes. Your twin is on her way back to England. I take it that Jim and Magoth are with you?”

  “One is. Jim had a message to go see Aisling for a bit. It seems she misses it, or something like that. But, Gabriel, the sárkány is tomorrow. Do you really think you can find Fiat in so short a time?”

  “I have no idea, but it is vital we have that shard. I feel I must try.”

  “I understand. Where are you looking? I’ll get on a plane and join the hunt,” I said, grabbing my purse and pulling out my wallet for my credit card. “Maata can babysit Magoth.”

  “I don’t want to babysit him!” Maata protested. “I’d rather throw myself into a lake!”

  “Much as I would welcome your presence, there is work for you in London, little bird.”

  “Such as?” I sat down on the nearest chair, disappointment making me a bit tetchy. I assumed Gabriel would demand I be at his side as he hunted for Fiat. That he didn’t do so stung my pride.

  There was a pause for a moment; then Gabriel’s voice dropped, pitched low and intimate. “I know what you’re thinking, Mayling. It is not so. I desire you just as much today as I did yesterday, and all the days before it.”

  “One day I’m going to—”

  “Read my mind, and then I’ll be sorry. Yes, I know,” he said, laughing.

  I smiled at my hands, wishing I could see the dimples I knew must be showing. “What do you want me to do here?”

  “You must start training with my mother to learn how to control the shards.”

  “I control a shard already,” I said, putting my wallet back into my purse.

  Maata checked Magoth, grinned to see he was still out, and tiptoed out of the room.

  “You control the shard bound to you. It is another thing entirely to control all the shards together. My mother has studied the diaries of Ysolde de Bouchier. She is the best resource available for understanding the process of re-forming the dragon heart. It is to her that you must look for training if you wish to be successful.”

  “I agree, but I still think I could be helpful in tracking down Fiat. There may be some trail I could follow in the shadow world.”

  “Leave the worry of Fiat to me, little bird. You have enough on your plate with the dragon shards. Protect my mother well.”

  “Do you think she’s in any danger?” I asked, surprised by his demand.

  His answer was slow in coming.“I sense there is a threat to her, yes, but that could be connected to the dragon shard you bear. I ask that you be very careful, May, with yourself and my mother. You are both very dear to me.”

  I warmed down to my toes with the love I heard in his voice. “I’m so glad you’re not Drake.”

  “So am I. But . . . ?”

  It was my turn to laugh. “Drake won’t let Aisling so much as lift her arm without a spotter and three pillows to protect it.”

  “Her history might have something to do with that,” he said, amusement back in his voice. “She has not always been so competent with her powers. But you are.”

  We hung up a few minutes later, after a few exchanges of a more private nature. But something he said had me thinking, so after double-checking that Magoth was all right—he was snoring softly to himself, so I gathered no serious damage had been done to him—I went in search of Maata.

  “Do I look any different to you?” I asked her when I found her.

  She stopped putting clean clothes into her dresser and eyed me. “Should you look different?”

  “That’s not what I asked. Do I look any different? Or . . . feel any different to you?”

  “I haven’t felt you.”

  I made a face at her grin. “You’re being deliberately dragon.”

  “I’m sorry,” she laughed, closing the drawer and walking around me to examine me from all angles. “It’s habit. Let’s see. . . . No, you look pretty much the same as you did when you and Gabriel left. Why do you ask?”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her that I was now in possession of a demon lord’s full powers, but I decided that was probably best kept to as few people as possible.

  “Just a thought I had. I’m going to trot over to Aisling’s house—What in the name of the spirits is that?”

  Voices raised in anger could be heard from downstairs. The house had an elaborate security system, but due to the fact I was now bearing a priceless relic of dragonkin, Gabriel had added additional security in the form of extra patrols by silver dragons. The two dragons who watched the downstairs were yelling now, but it was a familiar, higher-pitched voice that had me racing down the hall to the stairs below.

  “Sounds like your twin.”

  “It does indeed. And that man’s voice is very familiar, as well. What on earth has she done to bring him down on our heads?”

  The two dragons, Obi and Nathaniel, were doing their best to stop a very determined individual from entering the house, but Cyrene was getting in their way. Obi had his hands full with Cy, trying to pull her off the visitor, but it was difficult going, since she was determinedly fighting, kicking, making dire threats, and yanking the hair of her victim.

  “How dare you!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. My eardrums rattled. I felt sorry for anyone closer to her than I was. “I am a daughter of Tethys! You will feel the true vengeance of a sister of the house of Hydriades!”

  “Let go of me, you madwoman, or you will find out what vengeance really feels like!” the man yelled back.

  “Is that—Hoo,” Maata said, getting a good look at the man Nathaniel was all but wrestling.

  “What in the name of the sun and moon is going on here?” I yelled, trying to be heard over the noise of so many people shouting. “Cyrene, let go of Dr. Kostich’s hair.”

  “He called me a name!” she snarled, giving his hair a good yank. “He called me a tree hugger. Me!”

  “You like trees. Let him go. A
nd you can stop doing that, too.”

  Blood flowed from the punch Cyrene managed to get in to Kostich’s nose.

  “I may like trees, but I’m not a druid. I’ve never been so insulted in all my days!”

  Druids and water beings, for some reason I’ve never been able to fathom, insisted on perpetuating a feud that went back at least a millennium. There was no insult worse in the water-elemental circles than to be thought in sympathy with druids.

  Dr. Kostich bellowed an obscenity, trying desperately to fling Nathaniel, Maata (who was helping Nathaniel), and Cyrene off him. “Cease, you insane watery twit! I demand that you unhand me!”

  “Watery twit? Watery twit! Oh! I’ll show you who’s a watery—”

  “Stop it right now!” I yelled, grabbing Cyrene with both hands and pulling. The dragon shard wanted to help, but I didn’t want to let it loose. I dug in my heels and pulled, finally ripping my twin off the head of the L’au-delà with a shriek that made my ears ring a second time.

  “Just you wait,” Cyrene panted, shaking her fist at him as both Obi and I dragged her over to a chair next to the wall. “Just you wait until there’s no one around to save you, mage!”

  “Cy, remember who you are speaking to,” I warned, casting a worried eye over at Kostich.

  “Oh, he can’t do anything to me. The council of el ementalists isn’t afraid of the L’au-delà committee,” she said, tossing her head. She straightened her clothing with dark mutters.

  “I apologize for my twin’s actions,” I said, leaving her to see how Dr. Kostich fared. He slapped away Nathaniel’s hands as the dragon tried to dust him off. His glare was world-class, almost as good as Magoth’s—and almost as potent. It stopped me dead in my tracks for a few seconds, a horrible sensation of immobility gripping my entire body, including my heart and lungs, before I instinctively shadowed and slipped out of his control.

  Dr. Kostich murmured something rude about doppelgangers under his breath as I dropped the shadow.

  I handed him a couple of tissues, and said, “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that, mostly because I feel bad that you and Cyrene got into a fight, but also because I suspect the dragons wouldn’t take kindly to you insulting their wyvern’s mate. I take it you came here to see me, and not Gabriel?”