Even in the heart of real and present stress, the mind continued to spin and run and tag, you’re it. Even dragon minds did this. And so it was with silent but accepting bewilderment that as Evangeline thought those words: you killed my father – she also of course pictured Inigo Montoya in the heart of his confrontation with Count Tyrone Rugen, the six fingered man.
Her immature neurons snickered at their pubescent analogy.
It wasn’t funny. It really wasn’t. He’d been her pata. Her father.
But yeah. It also kinda was.
Prepare to die, she dutifully thought next. But it was empty and dangled unspoken and barely even mind-whispered, like toilet paper on the bottom of someone’s shoe.
“What do you want me to do?” she finally asked, whispering the words. Killing him could come later. Surviving long enough to do it – that was what mattered now.
Chapter Seven
He could feel her loathing for him. Every time she looked at him, it came in slices, like a reaper swinging his scythe. The blade tore at his clothing, cut through his skin and muscle, and chipped the bone underneath. But it wasn’t enough for her, and he knew that. She wouldn’t be satisfied until she avenged the the wrong she was so certain had been committed.
He had a long way to go with her. So long in fact, that it felt like staring down a straight, empty road in the desert… in a dream. The road to nowhere.
Cal had never been a man to shirk from a challenge. Dragons weren’t like that in general, but for the three Legendaries, it had been especially true. And frankly, even if he hadn’t possessed the iron will that straightened his back and narrowed his gaze on his future bride, Evangeline would have changed that. She was worth any battle she brought to his doorstep. Any war.
Right now, the battle was going to be getting her some place hell and gone from Arach’s greedy, lascivious grip.
Arach, the former king, was a bastard. In the derogatory sense, not the literal. He was selfish. He was thoughtless. He was short-sighted and illogical. He was hard-headed and sexist in the extreme. And he’d hurt more people – more dragons – than Cal cared to think about. The fact that he’d been king came down to sheer strength. He was not a beast to take lightly.
Cal had watched the man come to power, witnessed his atrocious attempt at leading, and had scowled so often at the dragon’s ridiculous exploits, he sometimes felt his face would be stuck that way. He couldn’t count the number of instances in which he’d considered de-throning the ass hat. But that would have meant becoming king himself. That would have put him in the limelight.
And he was a fugitive.
Not that he truly thought anyone could pin such an ancient crime on him any longer. It was so old, some dragons didn’t believe it had even occurred. It was legend and nothing more. Still, he’d wanted to play it safe.
And then Arach had become just a little too vicious for Cal’s tastes. His laws shifted, dictating a wide margin of fairness between the treatment of males and females, beginning with the young in training. This included Mimi, and some of the top students in training at that time, who happened to be female. They were to be pulled out of the specialized classes they were enrolled in and tossed into classes for remedial arts… the equivalent of human home economics.
The outcry was heartily felt but nearly silent, more like a choked whisper of dismay than a roar of objection. Arach was king. And the people of the Dragon Kingdom had long since decided that what the king said was law.
And they were terrified of him too. There was that.
Calidum had decided to step forward at that time; enough was enough. The legendary murder of his past bring what it may, for the Munchkins’ sake, the wicked witch had to die.
But the same day Arach had lodged his tyrannical rules firmly in place, he was killed in battle with the Entity.
The fact that the Dragon Kingdom residents were so tired of dictatorial behavior by their ruler, they’d decided for the first time in dragon history to elect their next official, gave Cal enough faith to accept the position when they asked him to take it. Little had he known the position came with an automatic queen. It seemed every leadership at the Table of the Thirteen was granted one these days, as if women were commodities or benefits to the position. It left nearly as sour a taste in his mouth as Arach had.
Until he’d looked up into Evangeline’s eyes – and realized she was his queen.
And then he was damned happy about it. Fairness be fucked.
Besides, the queens were turning out to be more powerful than their kings by far. It wasn’t as if they were getting the short end of the sovereignty stick.
When he’d taken the position, the Thirteen Kings fully believed the previous leader was dead. And though Cal had no proof to the contrary, he possessed his suspicions Arach was in fact still alive. Suspicions that William Solan had just confirmed for him.
If anyone was getting the short end of the stick in this entire matter, it was the Time King. Falsely accused, mistrusted, all but exiled from the twelve of the Thirteen Realms, he was a powerful, enigmatic renegade, utterly alone. Yet the man had come forward, taken a real risk, and warned Calidum. And now Calidum had a job to do.
“Come with me,” he told Eva softly. “I know of a place where you will be safe from Arach until we can figure this out.”
But will you be safe from me? he heard her mind whisper like acid.
It was rude to read her thoughts, he knew. And he certainly wasn’t trying. He’d learned long ago that reading minds was a terrible power to have. Terrible in that, people’s thoughts were nasty things to hear. People were rude. They were crude. They were base and simple and idiotic, and most of the time, their thoughts were jumbled messes of smells, memories being triggered, adrenaline or serotonin being released, and a mishmash of words that more or less formed something semi-coherent, which in turn forced their bodies to do certain tasks. Thoughts were boring on one end, and unpleasant on the other. Hence, it wasn’t something he often did, and even less often on purpose.
Besides, people were easy enough to read as it was. Just look at their faces, pay attention to their body language, and use a little empathy. That will tell you what they’re thinking ninety-nine percent of the time.
However, every once in a while, a person’s thoughts screamed at him. They were the desperate moments, the oddly coherent and clear moments, the ones preceding something drastic or traumatic. Or the ones just after.
And nearly all of Evangeline’s thoughts had been hard, loud thoughts since the moment they’d met, even the ones she’d mentally whispered. They were accusatory hisses, promises barely masked, threats in all their dark clothing.
He couldn’t help but hear them. She very much wanted to kill him.
So he smiled calmly and took two long strides forward, quickly closing the distance between them. The pier around them seemed to inhale as everyone watching collectively gasped and held their breaths.
The reminder that they were there made Cal tamp down his instinctive need to assert himself with his future queen. He wanted to gain the upper hand, give her a reason to do as he said, and ultimately use that power to protect her. But people were watching and Evangeline wasn’t that kind of girl anyway. Not that he wasn’t up for the challenge. Oh, he was. Now was just not the time.
He kept his tone even. “You can always try, Eva.” He smiled very faintly and allowed the fire to light his eyes. He saw their reflection in her own lavender pools of beauty, but was pleasantly surprised to find not an ounce of fear in those same depths. Only more willful fury. “But it’s in your best interest to keep me alive, Dragon Queen. Arach and the goddess are coming for you. And what better ally can you ask for than the one man in all the realms who has been promised your hand?”
Eva’s gaze narrowed and she moved in even closer. Something strange washed over Cal. Her nearness was heady. She was like a drug, and he’d just received a strong influx of something not unlike an opiate. It was intoxicating enough that
he was thrown, forgetting himself for a moment. Right then and there, he was simply a man, held fully in the sway of the most stunning female creature ever created.
She smiled with that narrowed gaze, and was so close he felt her words whisper across his lips. “But you aren’t the only man who was promised my hand, Calidum,” she told him. “And right now, I’m not so sure you’re the one meant to win it.”
Chapter Eight
While the suggestion that her fate of becoming the Dragon Queen was something to be “won,” like a ribbon or a trophy made her a little sick, it was well worth saying it just to remind the Dragon King that he was not quite in the guaranteed position as he thought he was. He had competition.
The look on his face told Eva her message had the effect she’d hoped it would, but she didn’t waste time gloating. Instead, she asked, “So, where are we going?”
“Nowhere just yet,” came a foreign reply.
Eva recognized it instantly.
Her power surged through her arms and into her hands even as she turned. The world blurred all around her, an unimportant outskirt, an inconsequential backdrop to the display of her magic as she prepared to battle.
Unnatural abilities raced down their own neural highways in her mind as if some cosmic traffic controller were waving them by, directing them into place, making sure they were good and ready. It took a split second for her cylinders to fire – and then she was facing the Entity.
But so was Calidum.
She wasn’t surprised to find that the Dragon King had reacted just as quickly as she had, not only spinning in place, but managing to step between her and the dangerous stranger. What did surprise her however was that even more power than she possessed seemed to be pulsing around his tall form. That power was like white fire and liquid nitrogen, freezing and boiling and so rampantly potent, it made her gasp with every wave that struck her.
Eva was half Nomad, half Legendary.... How could he feel more powerful than her?
But this question was an asterisked footnote on a page filled with bold capital lettering and tons of exclamation marks, because the fucking root of all evil had just suddenly appeared and called them out.
He was dressed in black clothing that appeared perfectly tailored, not a speck of dust anywhere on the expensive material, not a wayward wrinkle to suggest travel or regular living. And yet for the first time since Eva had met the Entity, he looked utterly and completely human. He was even handsome. Tall, lean, well proportioned. Black hair, strong jaw, Roman nose. He appeared, for all intents and purposes, to be the latest addition in a growing body of beautiful people in that one quadrant of the boardwalk on Pier 39.
The only thing setting him apart from them was his eyes.
The humans milling around them would not see what she saw, of course. To them, everyone looked as human as beautiful people can look. Calidum’s eyes would probably appear dark brown or blue or whatever color he wanted them to be. Only Eva saw the fire in them. And the same would hold for the Entity. To the humans, he would be human, with round pupils and irises some normal, if vivid, color. But to Eva, his eyes were black from corner to corner, as if someone had split open their membranes and poured ink into them.
It was clear Calidum wasn’t going to wait to allow the Entity to make the first move in this confrontation. He was at once attempting to transport them away from the pier, human onlookers be damned. She could feel his magic wrap around her in the split second before the unspoken transport spell was released. But his magic didn’t take, and he and Eva remained where they were.
Eva could see his back straighten and tense, the muscles under his jacket flexing in fear and battle preparation. Eva tried the transport next. And like Calidum, she wasted no time with words. But also like Calidum, she failed.
They remained standing together on one end of the Pier, people looking on, the Entity staring them down.
“I’m sorry I can’t stay and chat,” said the Entity. “Get to know the new queen and what not.” He nodded at Evangeline and winked. “But there will be time for that later. I really just came by to give you my deep and honest thanks, Evangeline. You’ve made this the best day of my exceedingly long existence.” His smile broadened as he bent at the waist, bowing graciously.
Then he straightened. “Oh,” he added as if he’d forgotten this bit. “There’s this too. A thank you gift from Amunet.” He lowered his head to gaze at them through narrowed black eyes, and his smile disappeared. The wood beneath Eva’s feet began to tremble.
A terrible cracking sound rang out from the other end of the pier, so loud that it could be felt as well as heard, a cross between a crack of thunder and a gunshot. But the sound reverberated through the boards below, and Evangeline was struck with sudden and certain knowledge. She knew what the sound was.
It was followed by a second, just as terrible and slightly louder. Screams went up around them, a human echo to disaster. The boardwalk bucked under Eva’s footing, and she fell sideways. Instinctively, she steadied herself by rising slightly off the floor, just an inch or two, which was normally unnoticeable by humans but gained her the advantage of space.
Once again, it appeared the Dragon King had the same idea. Except, he was also working magic as he rose. The words he whispered were fast and ancient, and the Entity laughed an evil laugh where he still stood, unfazed by the Pier’s movement.
“Have fun, kids,” he said just before he vanished. No one saw him disappear. In fact Eva probably needn’t have bothered with the low hovering because no one was paying attention to their side of the pier any longer. Instead, they were running. They were sliding and grasping whatever solid fixture was nearest to them.
The pier was moving. The entire thing.
“He’s cut it off and sent it into the bay!” she cried out. The enormous cracking sound had been the wooden planks of the boardwalk coming loose and snapping apart. From the distance of the sound, it had probably broken off somewhere around the neck of the pier, right in front of the California Welcome Center and the Crab House.
“Transport to Alcatraz,” Calidum commanded her. “I’ll handle this.”
Eva didn’t have the time to stare at him incredulously. Instead, she said, “My ass,” and took to flight. Even in the midst of crisis, a human spying her out-and-out flying could lead to unwanted questions after all – or the rumor of angels. Either way, it was better to be safe than sorry, so she allowed invisibility to cascade over her as she rose, shielding her body from sight.
Where are you going, Eva? came the cool but clearly angry question in her head.
Her reply was just as cool and just as angry: To help.
She tried to put him out of her mind as she stared down at the strange destruction taking place below her on the pier. There were two levels to this portion of the pier, and stores and restaurants ran the length of both levels. At the center of the Bay End, the San Francisco Carousel continued to turn, but now its music was off-key, and the children and adults on the animals were sliding off, a few of them screaming or calling to their children.
The performer on the adjoining stage to the Carousel was a man Eva recognized straightaway. He was a fixture on the pier and had been for forty years. Frisco Fred was his name. Nowhere near as dexterous or jumpy as he had been in his youth, Fred still managed to bring magic to every moment of his show with quick thinking and a witty sense of humor, and the audience forgave the occasional bowling pin or flaming baton drop – because he always had a joke to accompany each mistake.
But now, Frisco Fred gazed nervous and confused at the bucking wood beneath the stage, and the benches, which were coming undone from their fastenings to slide haphazardly on the wooden planks. He hurried from the stage and began directing people with quick instructions. “Over here! Hang on to this!” he would tell them. “This is an earthquake! Move away from the sides! The second story walk can collapse! Make sure you’re out of its way and just hang on right here!”
The experience that ca
me with age was clear in his commands and the calm manner with which he gave them. He directed citizens to brace themselves on the solid poles that went completely through the boardwalk as part of its construction or to hold on to more secure doorways or foundations. Everyone did what he instructed, scrambling to take hold of anything stable.
There was something about his voice, Frisco Fred. It made people want to do what he was telling them to do. And as Eva watched and listened, she realized that an earthquake was exactly what people would think this was. She didn’t know why it hadn’t occurred to her before. It was fortuitous that such an excuse was so readily available.
Even so – people could die. A lot of them. The pier was packed. And because it was a Saturday, many of the attendees were children. No doubt the Entity had chosen this day for just that reason. This was some kind of diversion; that was her instinct. The Entity wanted them busy. The shitty thing was, it worked. There were a lot of things the Thirteen Kings and their ilk could ignore, but clear and present danger to innocents was not one of them.
Chapter Nine
On the top floor, to her left, the windows of some of the shops had been shattered in the uneven movement of the pier, and wooden toys and puzzles of every design were pouring out onto the boardwalk. This must have been the Solve It! Think Out of the Box store that she’d been inside a few times. She recognized some of the puzzles. She’d solved them all.
Most of them would be un-solvable forever now, their pieces dumping through cracks in the wooden planks or tumbling into dark corners or sliding inexorably toward the sea.
Down below, back on the first floor, police officers on duty at the pier were rushing to help people who’d fallen or been separated. Pier 39 was now tilted at a thirty to forty degree angle, and inescapable sliding was taking place, taking everything from strollers to backpacks to store supplies to people from one end of the pier to the other, where they would collide with walls or tumble between the buildings and into the outer regions of the pier.
The Dragon King (The Kings Book 12) Page 5
