“You’re finding them is not a moral question. Only their actions are moral actions. I’m sorry, but I simply cannot tell you even if I wanted to. The gods have limited my passing on of knowledge,” he continued mouthing words at her, but nothing came out clear.
“What are you doing? Are you quite all right?” she asked.
“Yes, I’m fine. I’m simply demonstrating what happens when I try to share something I’m not permitted to share. My speech becomes mute. My mouth can’t even form the words. So, you see, I am not trying to hide anything from you, I just can’t say anything regarding the Siapheg unless it is historical knowledge. You have my sincerest apologies, madam.” Quincy bowed, sincere sorrow evident on his scale-covered face.
“That is the most preposterous thing I have ever heard! The gods would give me an enemy, but not reveal him or her to me? They would forbid me from knowing who it is?! Tell me how that bloody well makes sense?” She stomped into the living room, grabbing an apple from the kitchen to snack on.
Quincy fluttered after her, the sound of his tiny wings like little gears spinning around inside like a clockwork mouse. He landed on the counter she’d grabbed the fruit from.
“I know it is difficult to understand. I’m not pretending it's not. But I beg of you, leave it till tomorrow. We have much to do this night, I assure you.”
She studied him carefully, her eyes watching his wings with increased curiosity until she reached over and picked him up from the counter. “Quincy!” she exclaimed, noticing for the first time that under the layers of scales, and iridescent green, his wings attached to his body at pivot points that were made of the tiniest of gears and springs. “Spread your wings, please?” He did as he was asked, and she gasped in amazement. Every limb was connected by rods and pinions. She ran to the tiny mirrored vanity bench near the door and grabbed a magnifying glass from its compartment.
Holding it up to her face, she spent a great deal of time stroking his scales and poking at his tail.
“Why Quincy! You're made entirely of clock parts!”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Why didn’t I see it before?”
“Well, Miss Wylie... as I mentioned, you had to come into the knowledge of who you are and who you are meant to be before you could see the truth. It works in a similar way with me. As you accept your purpose, you will begin to see things for how they really are. It will be as if blinders have fallen from your eyes. The longer you are a Teselym, the more it will affect you on a daily basis.
“Your human mind will be unable to forget truth once it experiences it first-hand. What you may not realize at this moment, is that these are not scales, they too are tiny gears and cogs that make up my form. It is why I never get tired and never need to eat. You see, my dear. I am made entirely of watch parts. A reminder that we are living on borrowed time, and that we only have mere moments to stop evil when it occurs.”
“Another gift from the gods to me, so that I, just like you, never forget my place,” Wylie said.
His form became very clear then, and right before her eyes, the iridescent green scales that she had seen before simply disappeared.
“Illusion?” she whispered.
“No. More like… candy coating on your new reality. Other things will be revealed to you over time. Just you wait and see.” He grinned broadly, “At least now I know you are seeing me for who I really am.” His little bronze body was much less polished than the green scales she had grown accustomed to seeing.
“Don’t worry, Wylie. You’ll get used to it. I’m amazed it happened so quickly. Your father saw me as a little green beast for months before he finally realized the truth. Not that I fault the guy, he saw the good in everyone. Even when there wasn’t good to be seen,” Quincy’s mouth turned downward, and his eyes fell. “He was a good man, was your father. The world is a lonelier place without him.”
“I take it you two were more than just Teselym and moral compass?” she asked softly.
“Most definitely, my dear Wylie. He was an awfully good man, and the closest to a friend my little clockwork body has known in years.” Quincy brushed at his eyes quickly and then stood tall. “Never mind that. We have work to do.” He was all business now, and Wylie dared not ruin the moment. So, she transformed herself into the smallest of dragon forms and snuck out the mouse hole into the street again before taking to the skies.
She smelled it before she saw it, and as she rose into the sky, the Siapheg swirled below her. Unaware of her presence, it seemed to be looking for something on the streets below. She followed it for a brief while, and soon enough, she saw a young woman walking alone. The Siapheg saw her too and steeled itself before arching its back ready to spring. Wylie knew it was going in for the kill.
She swooped down, throwing her body against the black scaled beast, her nemesis. It fell to the ground, hitting the stones with a tremendous thud. The woman with her unkempt bloomers and crooked corset, a sign that she had been up to no good, took off running, the sounds of her high-pitched screams echoing into the night. Harlot or not, it didn’t mean she deserved to die.
The Siapheg got up from the ground and charged at Wylie. Its dark brown eyes struck her with a familiarity that Wylie had feared. Her heart sank. He would not remember this, tomorrow when he awoke, but she would. How could she bring herself to fight the one she loved?
“Just do what is right,” Quincy interrupted her thoughts.
“Of course, you have something to….” The Siapheg’s head rammed her hard in the side, knocking the breath out of her. Her body began careening toward the ground just as he had done moments before. She managed to catch her balance before she slammed into the ground. Flapping her wings madly, she rose back into the sky. The Siapheg flew straight at her once more.
Wylie got a sudden flash of a little girl in a run-down home, an angry drunken man standing threateningly over the cowering form of a blonde-haired child. Wylie quickly grabbed her Dracosinum and felt the tingle as she was transported instantly to the scene. When she opened her eyes, she saw a wood-slatted house and heard the muffled yells of a drunk man inside. The sounds of a woman sobbing and a little girl crying could be heard through the dilapidated wooden door.
“Charlie, please… don’t take it out on her. I don’t know where the rent money has gone, but please... she is only a child!” The man called Charlie muttered a string of obscenities, then something hit the wall with a shattering sound.
The Teselym part of Wylie took over, and without thinking about it, she smashed open the door, seized the woman and child in her powerful jaws, and carried them gently out of the house, whipping the man viciously with her powerful tail as she left the pathetic hovel.
Wylie flew over the city until she came to a convent known for protecting battered women and children. Gently depositing mother and child on the ground, she whispered, “Tell no one what you’ve seen, just start over and give this little girl the life she deserves.” Even as Wylie spoke, she could make out the bruises on the little girl's face and arms. The mother, clinging to the child, nodded her head as Wylie continued, “This place will take care of you. You must simply be straightforward about what your husband has done to you.” The woman bowed her head in thanks. Moments later Wylie’s Dracosinum transported her to the next location.
Her disappearance was like something from a glorious dream that folk would subsequently characterize as mystical and surreal.
It proved to a long night for Wylie, with many wrongs righted and justice meted out, but finally it was time to return to Lugwallow. As she neared her home, she searched the streets and skies with apprehension.
“Tell me, Quincy, has anyone been killed by the Siapheg tonight?”
“Not as yet, Miss. Safe to say you should be returning home before sunrise. The ‘Time of the Dragon’ draws to an end.”
“Very well,” and she flew silently home, all the while struggling to come up with a plan to prevent her bel
oved from perpetrating the evil he would no doubt wreak upon London, and indeed many parts of the world. The thought saddened her, but it felt like this was the way things were meant to be. It was just her lousy luck that she would fall for the one man that was her exact opposite in all the worst ways.
Chapter Fifteen
As Wylie arrived home and shrank in size, Quincy exited the Dracosinum and flitted about the room, finally coming to land on her father’s bed.
Lord Adrian is the Siapheg… I just know it... What will I do? How will I stop him? Wylie’s thoughts were growing louder and more insistent now that she was home.
“Do not fret about that.” Quincy tried to ease her worries.
“Quincy, how can I not? You won’t tell me if my worst fears are confirmed. I don’t know what else to do but worry.”
“My dear, nothing is ever as it seems. You know that much…” she nodded agreement to his statement. “Now, if you don’t mind, Wylie girl. I’m going to take a long soak in a warm thimbleful of oil.” Wylie nodded again as her Teselym form dissipated and her essence reentered her human body.
She felt as if her human form still wanted to sleep, but there was so much to be done. She fully intended to help the people of Lugwallow pack up their things, but where would they go? Some of them had several children and the Widow Turpin was elderly, so being uprooted wouldn’t do her any good at all. It was going to be more stressful to handle than she had intended.
“Well, Wylie? What are you going to do?” she asked herself out loud. If only I could use my Teselym strengths to my advantage. She would gladly grab the people up one by one and take them somewhere lovely, like a castle in Ireland... where they would all stay together and be safe until she figured out what to do with the horrible man who happened to be her best friend’s father.
She suddenly wished she had asked Quincy about using her powers in such a way, but she was reluctant to disturb him in his oil soak. Nonsense, I can figure this out on my own. Reason told her that technically if she were helping her people, it was still balancing good and evil; she would be doing good for an entire parish full of people who were being cast out. What was nobler than that? Then again, doing away with the hateful Lord Jameston seemed entirely feasible too, but she was pretty sure Quincy would frown on her murdering anyone.
She rushed over to the Widow Turpin’s home, banging loudly on her door.
“Widow Turpin, it's me… please… open up.”
“All right, all right… hold your horses. I’m coming, I’m coming.” The door squeaked open, and Wylie noticed that there were three carpet bags full to the brim sitting to one side. She rushed forward, throwing her arms around the widow. “I can’t believe they’ll be here tomorrow!” She had fought hard to be brave, but it was difficult to be strong when she felt as if she had nothing left to hold onto.
“I know, child. Why aren’t you packing?” The widow hugged her back, but it was awkward at best. They had never been close, and now they had been thrust into a difficult situation.
“I’m already packed,” Wylie said softly before stepping away.
“The police, Lord Jameston’s men, they’re all going to be here in the morning, we should get everyone out of here tonight.”
“Surely he will toss us out quick as look at us. He is a much crueler man than I ever imagined,” the widow said, her eyes full to the brim with tears.
“No sense lollygagging around dear, why don’t you go check on the others? Make sure they’re ready to go so we can be out of here tonight. Shout it from the streets if you must, we’ve no time to waste.”
Wylie nodded, running outside, her voice raised in fervor.
“People! Good People of Lugwallow! It's time to slumber no longer! You must be out by tonight! For tomorrow he will come to take us from our homes and send us to jail! Please, hurry!” She ran up and down the street, knocking on doors. Her pleas met with grumbling and protests of unfairness
“Please, I know it’s not right. I assure you I am working on a solution to the problem, but until there is one, we need to pack our things and get out. He will be here tomorrow.” Wylie’s urgency prodded everyone into action. The urgency in her voice made the dire situation all the more real as they struggled to gather together their meager belongings and children and stand on the street.
“Wylie? What are we to do!? Where are we to go?” The Riverpont family had the most children of everyone in Lugwallow, and as all eight of them ran around outside, laughing and chasing one another, their mother Hannah cried for what she was losing.
“Hannah, I am not entirely sure. I have a friend who might be able to help us. Let everyone know I’ll be back as soon as I can!” Running back to her house Wylie snatched up her derringer and tucked it in its pouch at her side. She pulled the Dracosinum out its pocket.
“Quincy, I know you’re not sleeping. Now that I know what you are.”
“Very well,” he said, as she opened the device. “What is it, child?”
“I need to transport somewhere now. I am out of time.”
“What are you asking me for?” he snapped.
“Huh?”
“Well, you’re a grown woman and a grown Dragaleth. Use your powers as you must, you don’t answer to me.”
“Well, won't the gods smite me down with thunderbolts and lightning and all that?” she asked.
“My heavens no. As long as what you do falls in line with your duties as a Teselym, they are your powers to command. The only limitations are ‘The Time of the Dragon.’ Which starts anywhere after the sixth hour of the evening and ends at the sixth hour of the morning. The sixth hour of the morning is the only hour set in stone.” His little brass body whirred and clicked as he marched around on the Dracosinum.
“So, what about transporting a load of people to a safe place nearby where they can rest until they are allowed to move back into their homes?”
“No can do, my dear. I’m afraid the Dracosinum is for your use only.”
“Very well, better tuck back in. I’ve somewhere to be,” she stated matter-of-factly.
“Aye, madam.” Quincy laid down inside the Dracosinum, and she snapped it shut, gripped it firmly, and visualized the stables of her employer Lord Adrian. He may be the Siapheg, but he doesn’t know it yet, and until he does, he may be of some use to me.
When she opened her eyes, Chaos was looking curiously at her and stamping his hooves, almost as if to protest her sudden appearance.
“Relax, Chaos. All is well. Is your master about?” Chaos whinnied enthusiastically, and she rubbed his velvet nose, kissing him before she ran out of the stable and up to the house.
“Lord Adrian! Lord Adrian!” She banged on the door furiously.
It opened to reveal a very irate looking Hettie, the same housemaid that had heard Wylie proclaim that she would like to murder Lord Jameston. The maid looked quite frightened, and ran off, calling over her shoulder, “I’ll find his Lordship.” She sounded a bit out of breath, but Wylie didn’t care.
“Lord Adrian, please! Are you home?” She yelled loudly into the house. To her left, the shuffling of feet warned her that someone was approaching.
Lord Adrian in a white long-sleeved shirt, top buttons undone, emerged from the parlor, his face a mixture of emotions which she was unable to read.
“Lord Adrian!” she exclaimed.
“W... W... Wylie…” he stuttered, his dark hair unkempt, and his hands fumbling to clasp the cufflinks at his wrists. “What… what is it? Have you changed your mind?”
“Changed my mind about what?”
“About us?” he asked, his eyes earnest and dare she think it? Hopeful.
“Oh, Adrian. Please don’t make this difficult for me.” Her mind flashed back to the Siapheg form, black as a crow as it swooped down on the harlot he most certainly would have killed had she not intervened. “I can't even think about that right now, please… I’ve come for something else.”<
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He finished fastening his cuffs, and shrugged on his vest, while she spoke.
“Yes, well, what is it?”
“I am about to ask you a huge favor. I know it’s an imposition, but I don’t know who else to turn to.”
“Out with it, Wyles.” He buttoned the two buttons concealing the tanned skin of his arms. She followed him about as he dressed, but when he headed towards the bedroom, she hung back. “Don’t be silly; I am only going to comb my hair.” She leaned on the door frame while he stood in front of the wash basin and mirror in his room. He applied a dollop of Macassar Oil to his hair, then ran the comb through it until his hair had a slick, clean shine to it. Exiting his room, he made his way to the front door. Grabbing his top hat from the hat rack, he popped it onto his head and patted it into place.
“Please, Adrian. Everyone in Lugwallow has been cast out of their homes. Those families... they have children… pets… personal belongings. They’re going to lose everything. I’ve come to ask if you can suggest a way to shelter these people for a few days until they can get their affairs in order. I just don’t want them on the street.”
Adrian stopped for a moment and turned to face her. She could tell by his expression that he was deep in thought.
“Wylie, did we not just speak of this before?” Wylie felt confused. He paced back and forth for a minute, stroking his chin before he quite suddenly grabbed a long black duster that she had never seen him wear before. “Aha!” he said, still not answering her question, or explaining what he meant by his statement moments before. He held out his arm to her, and she put her arm through his.
“Come, I have something to show you.” He winked mischievously, and once again, she noticed the dark circles under his eyes. They had grown, and she wondered why she wasn’t suffering from the same affliction. Her human body seemed well rested each morning when she returned from her Teselym duties.
“What is it?”
“Don’t you worry yourself. I have this all figured out. Your timing is perfect!” His eyes glowed with excitement. She hurried along with him as they rushed outside where he bypassed the carriages in the driveway. “Come, come...” He led her towards the servant’s house, a large, elaborate building, smaller in size, but almost as lovely as the main house itself.
The Dragon Lady (The Dracosinum Tales) Page 12
