“Oh Wylie, what have you done?” Adrian’s face had drained of all color, but the others who had come to watch whooped and hollered in delight, cheering her for what she had done.
“Never you mind,” she said to him. “There is nothing he can do to me; he isn’t as great as he thinks he is. It’s about time someone put him in his place.” She turned away then and went to pick up the item that had dropped to the ground.
“I agree with you, Wylie.” Lady Judith nodded her head and followed after her. “Except you have injured the one thing that is more important to him than any of his possessions, and that is his pride. He will be out for blood.”
“Oh, I have no doubt…” Wylie stopped mid-sentence as she examined the item that had dropped from his waistcoat. A bronze item, very much like a pocket watch, with an intricate dragon design on the front of it. She let out an audible gasp and turned to face Judith.
“Judith... Do… do you know what this is?”
“Yes! It’s a very fancy pocket watch. My father carries it with him always. It’s an heirloom that has been passed down through his family. He never lets it out of his sight,” she explained.
“It’s your father’s?” An idea was forming in Wylie’s mind. If Lord Jameston was the Siapheg, as this Dracosinum she was holding suggested, then she would fight him to the death. Killing him would upset the balance of good and evil, but fighting the Siapheg would not be against any rules. It was all part of her purpose as the Teselym. The only downside was that if she fought him and he died, then the role of Siapheg would pass to his daughter. That would mean she and Lady Judith would be at odds, not that Judith needed to know that. Perhaps Wylie could take control of the Siapheg’s Dracosinum, and prevent Judith from assuming the role.
Wylie needed more time to think her plan through.
“Can I have it please?” Lady Judith asked, holding out her hand. “He’s going to have your head as it is if he finds out you have this. He will make you suffer. Please… don’t make your punishment any worse than it has to be.”
“Sure, no problem.” Wylie dropped the Dracosinum in her friend’s hand, formulating a plan for how she would sneak it back when Lady Judith wasn’t looking or had set it down somewhere.
“Well, we’ve had quite enough excitement for one day. Shall we have breakfast?” Adrian urged, his face still near colorless.
“Hurrah!” came the cheers from the people of Lugwallow that had watched the entire event with fascination. The lot of them disappeared back inside the house, and Wylie couldn’t help noticing that Lord Adrian triple-locked the front door. As if that would stop a man like Lord Jameston if he chose to enter. One swoop of an ax and the locks would give way in short order.
I guess he’s allowed his delusions... she thought as they all gathered around the tables in the dining room where steaming plates of food sat waiting. Several shining platters adorned the tables, and all of those present sat down and enjoyed a peaceful meal, eating their fill before the servants came to clear the dishes.
Wylie had not felt such contentment in a long while and being with them reminded her of the meals she’d shared with her father when he was well. She was barely able to remember her mother’s face anymore, but she swore that the laughter heard around the table was that of her mom, and not of the Widow Turpin, or Hannah Ravenpont.
It was a brief moment of happiness, but like all good things, it came to an end all too quickly. No sooner had the dishes been cleared than a loud banging came once more at the front door.
“Adrian, you may as well open up, son, and hand over that carcass that is stinking up our lives!” The boom of Lord Jameston’s voice could be heard through the door, even over the laughter which stopped quite suddenly.
“Lord Adrian! It's Lord Jameston. He’s brought a whole lot of mutton-shunters with him, and they look armed and angry!” timid little housemaid Hettie Davenport spoke excitedly, red-faced and sweating.
“Calm yourself, Hettie. I’ll handle this man and his coppers. Thinks he can march up to my house and tell me what to do!” Lord Adrian yanked open the door and leaned against the lintel with as much resolve as a Grenadier guard.
“Well, are you going to hand her over?”
“Um, no… don’t think I will.” Adrian responded.
“Coppers, seize him. I want him thrown in jail until this can be dealt with.”
“Aye, Sir,” one of the men stepped forward to grab Adrian’s arm, but Wylie ran out of the house, pushing the uniformed man abruptly away.
“It’s me you want, you tyrant.” she stood in front of him, chest puffed out bravely. She had hidden her derringer in the house to be retrieved later, and her Dracosinum was safely tucked down the front of her corset where she prayed it would remain undetected. ‘The Time of the Dragon’ was close at hand. As long as they tossed her in a cell and walked away, she’d be gone before they’d figured out exactly what had happened.
She would find Lord Jameston in his Siapheg form that very eve and fight him to the death. It was the only thing she was allowed to do. She was sure Judith would be more just in her dealings, even if she were descended from the same bloodline. Judith had love in her heart, and compassion for people. Wylie would just have to count on that being true, even after Judith learned the truth and transformed. It was the only solution she was able to come up with.
She felt something hard and uncomfortable pressing against her spine.
“Move along, little lady.” The copper nudged her with the cold brass of something unforgiving in her back. “One wrong move from you, and me and my newly acquired carbon blaster will knock you from here to kingdom come.”
She only nodded in response as she was shoved into the horse-drawn Black Maria police van. Once seated, shackles were fastened around her ankles and wrists to prevent her escape. The arresting officer sat across from her, his odd-shaped gun pointed at her while he smiled a near-toothless smile.
“Will you be joining us, Lord Jameston?” A voice from the front of the cab called out.
“No, Lieutenant Addle. I just ask that she is prevented from bothering me or any of us ever again. I’ve made my charges against her very clear,” Jameston answered.
“Indeed, you have.” The lieutenant clicked his tongue, and soon the police carriage was bouncing along. Wylie knew that if she lived to see the daylight of the next day, it would be a miracle. She couldn’t waste time once she arrived at the jail, assuming they didn’t find her Dracosinum first.
Chapter Seventeen
The ride was a long one, and soon Wylie found herself drifting off to sleep with the rocking of the Black Maria. When the carriage finally stopped, the lieutenant himself was prodding her awake. He had a young, lightly-bearded face, but she could not read his eyes, and that was something that bothered her quite a lot.
“Come along, troublemaker. I have a special cell for you.” He spoke in low, sinister tones that sent shivers up her spine. There goes any hope of ever getting out of this place alive. The sudden evil she felt radiating off the man made her skin crawl and sent shivers down her spine. Something told her that she would need to deal with him on a more serious level if she was able to gain her Teselym form.
“Oh, joy of joys. I can’t wait,” she mumbled. He turned around and grabbed her hair, yanking her head back, his slimy voice whispering low into her ear.
“Say another word, gutter rat, and you won’t make it through the next few hours alive. Understand?” She could barely move her head, but she mumbled a weak ‘yes’ as her eyes teared up from the pain of having her hair nearly yanked from her scalp. He followed close behind her and jammed his gun so roughly into her spine, she pictured bruises forming. He nudged her down the stone steps of the jail where the smell of unwashed men, urine, and death invaded her nostrils and burned her eyes.
“See, this here is where I take people to die. I like you though. I think you have some potential, and I happe
n to think that Lord Jameston is a pretentious chiseler.”
Had her situation not been so dire, she would have prattled back to him about all the things that Lord Jameston was full of, for it wasn’t just about cheating, as the term ‘chiseler’ suggested. Lord Jameston was a special breed of man whom, she was convinced, had been born without a heart at all.
The copper shoved his foot into her backside.
“Hurry up, wench. I don’t have all day to deal with the likes of you.” She felt the Dracosinum shift as he nudged her along. If she sped up anymore, she was afraid it would dislodge from her corset and fall to the damp, dirty floor of the jail.
Men whooped and hollered as she passed by, some of them toothless and with hair so thick with dirt and grease they barely looked human at all.
She couldn’t draw her eyes away. She had seen some disheartening things in her short time as a Teselym. But those were things that she had been able to do something about. The smell and the conditions of the men down here was unspeakable. What if, like me, they’ve been put here unjustifiably?
Mustn’t think of that now. The Dracosinum was shifting again, with every step she took it slipped lower. If it fell out, she would never get out of here. Then the cop grabbed her shoulder and halted her in front of a lone cell set apart from the rest. A pile of ragged clothing and a lump of something impossible to identify in the dark were the only contents of the cell. Chain shackles hung from the left wall.
“Get over there,” he growled as he opened the steel barred door, and nodded towards the shackles.
“You don’t need to chain me up. I’m not going anywhere,” she cried out.
“Shut yer mouth.” He pointed the pistol at her and cocked the hammer back. She prayed to the gods that the Dracosinum would take on a mind of its own and somehow climb back up her to her chest. Where is Quincy when I need him?
The cop unlocked the shackles from her wrists and shoved her towards the wall. The sudden rough movement dislodged the Dracosinum from its place, and she felt the cold brass slide down to the right side of her waist, and then it was gone. She heard the soft thud as it hit the dirt floor.
Acting as if he had shoved her too hard, Wylie fell backward against the wall and slid to the ground, her freed hands searching for the cold brass item in the dim cell.
“Ya clumsy nitwit!” he yelled at her, reaching down to help her up. “Let’s get you in these chains.” Come on Wylie! Think of something!
“Please, please don’t chain me up! I beg of you.” She teared up.
“Lady, if I don’t chain you up and Lord Jameston finds out, it will be me instead of you on the gallows. You sure riled up the wrong man. Now git over there or you won’t make it till morning!” He pulled her to a standing position and motioned with the flintlock. Her heart raced as she realized there was no getting out of this situation. She hoped to crawl on the floor and find the blasted device. Once she opened it and assumed her Teselym form, she would deal with this fellow properly.
It’s going to take a miracle.
She glanced from him to the chains on the wall, then back to him again. Wylie noticed even in the darkness of the cell, he was staring at her just a little too intensely… or possibly something else... An idea was forming.
“Please... this is possibly my last night, have mercy, m’lord.” She pleaded with him, batting her lashes and bowing slightly. She heard the hammer on the flintlock click again. His gaze was locked on her tightly corseted chest. Yep, no mystery there. Disgusted by what she needed to do, she took a small step backward until she was leaning against the damp, cold wall. She thrust her corseted chest outward, her bosom pressing tightly against her buttoned up blouse. Ever modest, she couldn’t believe the boundaries she now dared cross to save her own life.
“Lieutenant,” she breathed huskily, “I am willing to do what it takes to get out of being chained,” she enunciated each word for effect and watched as his face went from intense to lusty-eyed.
“Willing to do what it takes, huh?” He shoved the flintlock in its holster at his side and made his way to her. The smell of sweat and death pervaded her nostrils as he pressed himself against her. His gap-toothed grin like that of a drunken sailor. His breath was just as bad. He leaned in and whispered into her ear.
“Now, what would make a little lady like you wanna give up yer virtue for a guy like me?” He took off his bowl-shaped cap, his face coming closer to hers. The smell of his breath made her stomach turn.
“Well, a lady certainly does value her life, and I’m quite fond of mine, imperfect as it is.” She smiled nervously, her gut twisting with nerves.
“Oh, is that so?” He closed his eyes, puckering his lips to kiss her. She slid down the wall, avoiding his needy, slobbering lips, and fell hard on her bum. She groped blindly once more in search of the Dracosinum, hoping to slip it back into her corset before he noticed.
“Look at you, making promises you can’t keep.” Lust had blinded him now to everything else.
“Nonsense,” she said, “I was just trying to speed things up.” She used her free hand to pat the ground next to her, but instead, he grabbed her hands and pulling her to her feet, moved her towards the center of the cell. The Dracosinum remained in the shadows where he would never see it as long as she was able to keep his attention diverted.
“Here.” He pointed to the ground, and she sat, trying to fight the tears that threatened to take over. The very thing she had saved when so many others were giving it away freely was about to be taken so she wouldn’t be murdered.
“Lay down,” he ordered, and she did as she was told. He unbuttoned the front of his trousers before crouching over her. He shoved a knee between her legs, to force them open, and as he did so, she put every hope, every prayer, and every ounce of strength in her knee as she rammed it hard up into his groin.
His eyes went wide with surprise, then he grabbed himself and fell back on the floor with a loud moan. He sucked in a deep breath, trying to yell something at her, but no sound came out. Wylie ran back toward the wall, picked up the Dracosinum, and rushed out of the cell. She took the steps two at a time while the prisoners yelled for her to come back and let them out. When she reached the first landing, she paused and pushed the lever to open the Dracosinum, where Quincy sat silently, a small frown of sadness on his face.
She couldn’t even speak, merely nodded at him, and thought herself into the Teselym, her human eyes closing as her human body fell to the cold stone step, the blue flame rising again, and the Teselym body forming around her essence. Not yet at full size, she remained on the landing for the moment, realizing she had not thought out her plan thoroughly. There was no way she would consider leaving her body here unprotected. She would have to take it home, but at the same time, she needed to fight.
“Quincy.” His little clockwork body rose from the Dracosinum and fluttered in front of her. “Are you able to take my human body home? It won’t be safe here.” Quincy never said a word, but Wylie could see a small tear on his face. “I’m okay, please... just get her, er, me, out of here.”
He nodded his head, growing in size until he was nearly as big as her, their dragon forms crowding the stairwell and overshadowing her human body at their feet. Quincy lifted up her human form, still remaining silent.
“How…?” she left the question unsaid, for by then he was quickly fading out, and she realized at that moment that there was a great deal more she didn’t know about Quincy. If she lived through this ordeal, she would make a point of prying more information from him. She heard the sound of scratching claws and flapping wings, and knew it must be Quincy escaping the horrible jail. She let out a sigh of relief.
It’s time to fight. Only this time she would not go out into the open as small as a mouse. She would go out large and she would go out fighting. If the Lieutenant came after her, she would bite him in half; she didn’t care about the balance of good and evil. Her dragon’s claws
made scratching noises on the stairs as she resumed her ascent. As she reached the top, she let out a tremendous roar, scaring the guards half out of their wits. The whole lot of them went screaming out of the police station into the street, and she burst out right behind them.
Immediately Wylie took to the skies, willing herself to control her temper and not light the station on fire, burning it to the ground. When she could no longer see the ground and the moon was her only companion in the sky, she allowed herself to relax. There was something about flying among the soft haze of clouds under the light of the moon that instantly put her heart at rest.
What do I do next? The faint sound of flapping reached her ears, and she whipped around expecting to encounter the Siapheg. Instead, she came face to face with a full-sized Quincy.
“That was impossibly fast,” she said, her voice redolent with admiration.
“My darling girl, may I remind you again that I am a piece of the gods themselves?”
“My body?”
“Is resting peacefully in your room at Lord Adrian’s, please don’t worry. We have much bigger things to deal with currently.” As he spoke, he shrank to his normal size until he was no bigger than a butterfly and took his rightful place in the Dracosinum hanging from her neck.
“Now, might I say... dear girl, what you did in there, it was...”
“Stupidity? I should have just let them hang me?”
“No, my dear. I was going to say that it was brave, magnificent, and incredible.” His little voice should have felt like music to her ears.
“How was it brave? The police lieutenant knows who I am, he will tell Lord Jameston his version of what happened, and Lord Jameston will continue to come after me until he succeeds in having me killed. He will ruin Lord Adrian, and possibly Lady Judith as well. There will be no future left for them. That is what I have done today!” She opened her mouth wide, letting out a large roar that reverberated through the skies like thunder.
The Dragon Lady (The Dracosinum Tales) Page 14
