I pulled my sword out of the wolf I impaled and watched him shift from his wolf form to his human form as he died.
Two more demons sprang up on my right. I fired a paintball at one, but he was moving, and I was moving, so I missed. The sound of hooves beating on the ground caught my attention, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw a unicorn stallion racing toward us. The wind of its passage as it raced by me almost blew me off my feet.
The stallion ran straight at the nearest demon and lowered its head at the last instant, impaling the demon with its horn. A bright golden light flashed, and to my astonishment, the demon began to deflate like a balloon. When nothing was left of it but its skin, the unicorn shook its head, and the skin flew off and lay in a sort of puddle on the ground.
The unicorn stallion bugled, and the other demon turned and ran. The unicorn followed it into the darkness. Considering the speed of a unicorn, I didn’t think the demon had a chance.
“What’s the matter?” Valinir asked.
I realized I was just standing there with my mouth hanging open.
“Did you see that? The way that demon just sort of deflated?”
“Yes,” he said with a patient look on his face. “That’s unicorn magic. Haven’t you ever seen a unicorn take on a demon before?”
“Uh, no. The number of unicorns in Washington, D.C., is like zero.” I made a mental note to check on permission to pasture a unicorn in the city park next to my nursery.
A couple of hours later, we had to deal with a second demon incursion, but the rest of the night was quiet. The same couldn’t be said for the rest of Earth. In some places, the paranormal attacks were even worse than two years before when the veils first ruptured.
I sat with Valinir and Imora’s family, eating breakfast and watching news reports from the internet on a large screen mounted in their common room. A battle erupted between Werewolves and Vampires in Washington shortly after sundown on Samhain. Combined with an influx of demons and Devils, the authorities had their hands full. I was glad I decided to leave town.
Dublin’s problem was different—several thousand Imps. Of course, they had the same Werewolf and demon issues as other places, but that many Imps would be difficult to deal with. Children trying to trick-or-treat were especially vulnerable as the Imps attacked them for their candy.
One report caught my attention. There weren’t any pictures, and the reports were sketchy, but a couple of villages in the Caucasus Mountains in Russia had burned with all the inhabitants slaughtered. People who were several miles away reported some sort of airplane shooting flame at the villages.
I glanced at Valinir out of the corner of my eye, but his attention was trained solely on Imora.
Incursions continued throughout the day, including a dozen Vampires that came through a rift in the veils right in the middle of the holding. We all breathed a sigh of relief when the sun set, and Samhain officially ended, but that didn’t keep Werewolves and Vampires from raiding the sheep herds.
Around the world, chaos still reigned. Video footage broadcast out of China showed a full-scale battle between the military and hundreds of demons. There wasn’t any sound or commentary, but to my eyes, it appeared the demons won.
Two days after Samhain, Lady Darenda sent for me before breakfast. When I arrived at The Household, a servant showed me to a small room with a skylight. Lady Darenda sat at a table laden with fruit, fresh-baked bread, sausages, and yogurt. The servant poured us each a cup of dalesh, a hot bittersweet drink with about four times the caffeine of coffee, then left us alone.
While we ate, we spoke of her holding, my nursery and landscaping business, the reports of Samhain disruptions, and of Earth in general. Darenda was especially interested in my impressions of the government and society in the United States.
With a sigh, she said, “That sounds even crazier than the madhouses in Dublin and London. This democracy idea sounds fine in theory, but I’m at a loss as to why the people don’t drag the idiots in charge out of their palaces, execute them, and start over. My people wouldn’t put up with that kind of chaos for a week.”
I had to agree with her. What she said was part of the reason I paid as little attention to politics as possible. I couldn’t do anything about it, so ignoring it was easier than trying to figure it out.
When we finished our meal, the conversation turned to business.
“A Dragon in this realm, especially a young Dragon, would be a disaster,” Darenda said. “You’ve seen what those fools in China did with demons. Can you imagine what these idiot Humans would do with a Dragon?”
“That sounds like you’re reading from the same script as the Elves in Iceland. Are you sure it was a Dragon’s egg?” I asked.
“Unfortunately, yes. Altinir believes it was a Dragon’s egg, and that’s good enough for me. It’s possible the egg isn’t viable, but the damned things are almost invulnerable. In any case, we can’t take the chance of it hatching.”
“My lady, did you see the report of those villages in Russia that were burned by an airplane shooting fire?”
The grim expression on Darenda’s face deepened. “Yes, I did.” She pursed her mouth as if she’d eaten something bitter. “I don’t know how many centuries it’s been since Earth last dealt with a Dragon. If that egg was produced here, rather than someone bringing it through the veils, the danger is far graver. The Goddess help us all if there’s a Dragon loose in the world looking for her egg.”
“So, you and Erinir are in agreement on this? You want me to try and find it?”
Darenda nodded. “Absolutely. Please, Kellana, we need you.”
Chapter 5
Lady Darenda assigned half a dozen battle mages to provide security for Valinir and me, but that made me uneasy. I didn’t have any training as a detective—other than reading some detective novels and watching a few cop shows on TV—so, an army of Elven warriors wandering around asking questions didn’t strike me as a discreet way to discover the information we sought.
Humans long believed they were alone in the cosmos. The magic users and paranormals who lived on Earth prior to the Beltane rupture—including me—were used to living in the shadows. The Elves of Iceland and Ireland didn’t seem to understand that their presence unsettled people. But I was afraid a pack of Elven battle mages walking around Dublin would probably scare half the population shitless.
When I tried to explain that to Valinir, it didn’t go very well. As an Elf from Alfheim, he grew up in a place where being an Elf wasn’t notable. Everyone was an Elf. And since one out of every ten people in Iceland was an Elf, and Icelanders loved Elves, he couldn’t see the problem.
Luckily, one of the mages assigned to us by Darenda did understand my point. He was the only one of the Irish group who was a realm walker, so he had experienced other societies. Eventually, he convinced the others to hang back and loosely keep me in sight, letting me wander and seek in my own way.
I wasn’t familiar with the Dublin magic market, but I did know where it was. The Brazen Head pub touted itself as the oldest pub in Ireland, although that claim was contested. The young student who reported the egg told me that the market was ‘behind the Brazen Head’. I walked around the pub, but that led me to a parking lot.
Going back into the pub and out the back door took me to an outdoor courtyard where people could sit and drink in nice weather. Since it was a typical rainy Irish day, I was alone. A tour of the area didn’t turn up any entrance to the market. Back inside, I noticed a short hallway to my left, just inside the door. I walked down the hall and through the seemingly solid stone wall at the end.
A wash of noise and color assaulted my senses. Merchants’ booths stretched before me far as I could see. In addition to the wide main street in front of me, narrower streets led away to both my left and right.
I wandered down the main thoroughfare, sort of window shopping, just noting what kind of goods were for sale, and getting a taste of the atmosphere. Compared to some of the ma
rkets in other cities, it was rather light and orderly and polite. Most of the vendors looked fairly respectable, even if not particularly savory, but I preferred not to do business with Devils, Succubae, Imps, and other dark side beings.
Both the variety and quantity of goods from other realms had exploded since the Beltane rupture, but I couldn’t say the same for the quality. Although good stuff was available, there was a lot of low-quality merchandise.
Looking through the offerings of a merchant selling exotic skins, I wondered if Earth was becoming a dumping ground for junk that couldn’t be sold elsewhere. Fabrics, clothing, minerals, gems, stored foodstuffs, weapons and armor, along with lots of charms, potions, elixirs, spelled objects, and almost anything someone could transport or store. I counted dozens of alchemists and apothecaries, many of them Humans from Earth. But beings from dozens of realms were also represented.
Two hours after I entered the market, I found myself along the back wall, farthest from the entrance. A Devil in a cramped, crowded little booth had a wide variety of ingredients for alchemists, including a whole boxful of small Dragon scales. Those would have had to come from either young Dragons, or the delicate scales along a Dragon’s wrists, tail tip, or face. He also had a variety of rare feathers, some tiny eggs that I didn’t recognize, unusual herbs, and roots from plants that grew only in Hel.
A merchant I’d seen earlier had Dragon scales, but they were fakes. The scales the Devil was selling radiated magic.
“Some interesting offerings,” I said, fingering one of the scales. Motioning with my chin toward the back of his stall, I asked, “What are those little eggs?”
“Cardelian minidrags, mistress,” the Devil answered, wringing his hands and inching closer to me. “Very useful in brewing certain potions.”
“If I wanted, would they hatch?”
“I truly don’t know, mistress. But why would anyone want a Cardelian minidrag?”
I pulled my grimoire out of my bag and looked up the animal. The Devil’s eyes lit up as he noticed the bag.
“You wouldn’t want to sell your bag, would you?” he asked.
“You couldn’t afford it,” I said.
The grimoire said the minidrags were ugly, less than four inches long when fully grown, ate dung, and stank. Their eggs were used mostly for odious and dark magic potions.
“Too bad you don’t have a true Dragon’s egg,” I said, returning the grimoire to my bag. “What is the price for the scales?”
He named a price, I put the scale I was holding down and turned to walk away. The Devil cursed Elves for not bargaining, and quickly named a lower price. I shrugged. He named a lower price, and I paid him for six scales.
“There is a Human mage about midway down that aisle over there,” the Devil said, pointing, “who has goods from Draegar.” Draegar was the home realm of the Dragons.
I bought an overpriced phoenix feather from him, tucked my purchases away, and went looking for the merchant of Draegarian goods.
The merchant turned out to be not-exactly Human. Part Human, part Devil, part Dwarf, she was an ugly little woman. Her magic was anything but Human.
She had a large selection of Dragon scales, and at far better prices than the Devil’s. She also had scales and skins from other animals indigenous to Draegar, along with leaves, herbs, roots, and minerals. All were of the highest quality, and I found myself calculating how much of my bank account I could afford to spend.
In the end, I calculated from the other end. As tempting as some of the merchant’s goods were, there were only so many dragon scales or ounces of krilini root extract I could use.
I fingered what looked like beetle shells—very large beetle shells.
“Fortress beetles,” the merchant said. “Alchemists make body armor from them.” She pointed to my Dragonskin bag. “That’s the only thing more indestructible. Fortress beetles are the one thing on Draegar that Dragons don’t eat.” Without warning, she produced a knife and slammed it down on the shell. The table bounced, and the shell jumped into the air. Retrieving it, she showed me a slight scratch on its surface.
I bought four of the shells. As she bagged up my purchases, I said, “I heard that someone might have a Dragon’s egg for sale.”
Her head snapped up, and her eyes searched my face. “Aye, there was, some weeks ago. What would you be wantin’ with such an item?”
“I’m not sure I would want it,” I answered. “I’ve never seen one. I hear they are quite beautiful.”
“That they are,” she said. “I don’t know what one would want with a Dragon, though.”
I chuckled. “Oh, I’m certain I wouldn’t want a Dragon. From what I understand, you could keep one of the eggs for a millennium without hatching it. But certain collectors might pay handsomely for such a rare item.”
She nodded. “And hopefully such a wealthy collector would have sense enough not to try and hatch it.”
“Hopefully. You wouldn’t happen to know who was offering the egg for sale?”
“Old Koppen did, more fool he.”
“Oh? And where might I find Koppen?”
“The morgue. He had a buyer, he told me, but they were haggling over the price. Then he was found floating in the river, and the egg hasn’t been seen since.”
“How long ago was this?”
“About two weeks ago.”
“Any idea how he died?”
She shook her head. “Nay, I didn’t hear.”
“Was he Human?”
She laughed. “No more Human than you or I. Oh, he had some Human in him, but there was something else.”
On my way out of the market, I spotted Valinir, and he moved up beside me as I stepped through the exit into the pub.
“Any luck?” he asked.
“Not much. The merchant who had the egg is dead.”
“Somehow I didn’t think this search would be quick.”
“No,” I told him, “neither did I.”
That night, I called a friend in the States who worked for the PCU, the Paranormal Crimes Unit of the FBI.
“Karen? It’s Kellana. Is there any way you can find out about a murder victim in Ireland?
“Probably. Human or paranormal?”
“Paranormal. A merchant named Koppen. I was told he was found in the river in Dublin about two weeks ago.”
“Is that where you are?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll get back to you.”
She called back that evening just before Valinir and I sat down to dinner.
“Alared Koppen, race undetermined,” Karen said. “They fished him out of the water, but cause of death was exsanguination. His throat was torn out. The autopsy was inconclusive. The medical examiner said it could have been an animal, a Vampire, or even a knife or other sharp object, and the wound could have been widened by fish feeding on the body. He estimated the body had been in the water between forty-eight and seventy-two hours.”
I started to hang up, no closer to the egg than I had been before.
“Kellana,” Karen said, “there is a PCU agent at most of the U.S. embassies in other countries. If you need any information, call them and use Dave as a reference.” David Torbert was the FBI deputy director in charge of the PCU, and Karen’s boss. We had worked together in the past, and he owed me a few favors.
“I shall do that, Karen.”
I spent two more days sniffing around the marketplace in Dublin, dropping hints that I had a client looking for a Dragon’s egg. Those who truly knew about Dragons looked at me in horror. But no one gave me any hint that they knew where to find an egg.
I did get to go out to the pubs in Dublin and listen to music a couple of nights, which made me happy. But it didn’t make Valinir happy, since his idea of a good time was Imora, and he wanted to go back to Alfenholm the instant I finished hunting for the day.
“So, what do we do now?” Valinir asked after I told him I thought Dublin was a dead end.
“We move on,” I sa
id. “There are a lot of places where one might try to sell such a magical object. The market in London is far larger than the one here, and the number of collectors who might have the funds for such an object is far higher.”
Valinir wanted to fly to London. I told him to go ahead.
“Why do you want to take the ferry?” he asked. “It will take us forever that way.”
“Have you ever been on a boat on the ocean?” I asked. “It’s peaceful. Then I can take the train from Liverpool to London and see the countryside. That’s also peaceful. I’m on vacation, remember? I left Washington hoping to find a little peace and quiet. Samhain was not peaceful.”
The trip was restful and very pretty. I could tell Valinir chafed at the inactivity, but we made it to London in one day. Personally, I was more than happy to trade four hours in airports for the ferry trip.
I let him win on the issue of where to sleep. I usually stayed at youth hostels or low-end hotels to save money. But with the Icelandic Elves footing the bill, I agreed to stay in a much nicer hotel near Kensington Palace.
That evening, I took him to a pub near Trafalgar Square for dinner. We were on our way home when Vampires fell out of the sky. I sidestepped the two in front of me and ducked the one who tried to land on my back. As I drew my sword, I saw a flash of streetlight reflect off Valinir’s sword.
Rather than try and get fancy, I simply crouched and spun, holding my sword out in front of me. Two Vampires ducked under the sword, another one leaped over it, but the fourth one standing to my left was slow, and the sword cut off his legs. I got one of the athletic ones on the backswing, taking off his head.
The remaining two came at me from each side. They held long serrated knives, almost long enough to call them short swords. I slipped my athame into my left hand as I backed away.
I blocked a cut from the Vampire on my left and spun in that direction away from an attempt by the guy on my right to stick his knife in my ear. The one on the left leaped into the air, attempting to attack me from above. I jumped straight up. The astonished look on his face as my sword cut through his neck told me that he’d never fought an Elf before. Although they might have been more athletic than Humans, I could outjump any Vampire.
Dragon's Egg (Dark Streets Book 2) Page 4
