Dragon's Egg (Dark Streets Book 2)

by BR Kingsolver

  “Perhaps you could come see me this afternoon,” Gonçalves said. “Come to lunch, why don’t you? About one o’clock.”

  With a smile at Valinir, I said, “I believe I have the afternoon free. Do I need to bring a company of bodyguards, or will you ensure our safety?”

  He sounded shocked. “Of course you shall be safe. You shall be my guest.”

  “Oh. Okay. I thought I should check before I get my nails done. Killing Vampires does tend to ruin a manicure. Where do you wish to meet me?”

  He gave me the address of the mansion in Holland Park.

  When I hung up, I said to Valinir, “There’s something off here.”

  Valinir nodded. “I think that’s a sound wager. There’s a bit of a difference between having someone followed and sending ten armed Vampires out to kill them. That bunch last night was definitely out for blood.”

  I laughed, and when he realized what he’d said, he joined me.

  “Exactly,” I said, “but something in Gonçalves’s voice when I asked about our safety didn’t fit in with last night.”

  Because I’m such a trusting soul, I checked all my weapons before we left the hotel, including the spell balls for my paintball gun. I also put some potions for healing and for countering magic in my bag. I wore my anti-magic charm necklace, but I had no idea what kind of magic it blocked. When you picked up jewelry in dead men’s houses, you kind of took your chances.

  When we arrived in front of Gonçalves’s mansion, the gates swung open.

  “I guess we’re expected,” I said, taking a deep breath, and walking inside the walls. The gates silently swung closed behind us and locked with a loud clank.

  Out of habit, I looked around as though I was preparing a bid to maintain the landscaping. The house was almost as wide as the lot, and after I subtracted the garage, the paved driveway, and the sidewalks, very little of the front space had any kind of foliage. I could feel more plants behind the building. I decided that was probably where the garden was.

  We walked up to the front door, and the big double door silently opened. I half expected to find no one inside, but instead there was a Vampire dressed as a butler. He offered to take our coats, then led us back to a room I would call a study or library. A large Human sat in a large chair in front of a low table. A couple of decanters with glasses sat there, along with a dish with cookies or biscuits, and an empty chair on either side.

  The man had light-brown skin and dark hair with white at the temples. He stood when we entered, and though he was a couple of inches shorter than I was, he was at least twice as wide. Dressed in a black suit with a purple tie, he looked comfortable and elegant. He was a strong mage, and the house was full of magic. A number of beautiful crystals, gems, and sculptures sat on furniture around the room, some of them with magical signatures.

  “Miss Rogirsdottir? Mr. Vadovanar? I am Orlando Gonçalves. Please have a seat.”

  We took the indicated seats, and he waved his hand at the table.

  “Water, either plain or spring water, brandy, or vodka?”

  “Just water for me,” I said. Valinir nodded. The Vampire poured each of us a glass of water. I had no intention of touching it.

  I leaned back in my chair and said, “I was given your name at the marketplace a couple of days ago.”

  He looked mildly surprised. “Oh? In what context?”

  “I was told you’re a collector of unusual objects, especially magical objects.”

  His eyes ran up and down my body and settled on my face. His face took on an expression of mild amusement. “I do enjoy beautiful things.”

  I switched topics. “A Vampire has been following me since I was in Dublin several days ago. When I asked him why, he said someone was paying him. I was surprised to receive your call on his mobile phone.”

  Gonçalves tried to look a little embarrassed, but I doubted anything could embarrass him. He was supremely confident, past the point of arrogance, and felt he owed an apology to no one.

  “Yes, Simon is in my employ. I contract numerous services through George Conroy, the London master. He overheard your quest for a Dragon’s egg and reported it. I asked him to monitor your progress.”

  I thought about what the Elves in Iceland had told me about my ability to feel magic. If Gonçalves considered us a threat, he probably would never have let us through his wards. Gonçalves was strong, one of the strongest Human mages I’d ever encountered. Valinir was stronger. Because of the indulgent look on his face, I was sure Gonçalves thought of Valinir and me as being young, inexperienced, and naive. While mages lived longer than other Humans, I assumed he was much younger than Valinir or me.

  “And if we found the egg?” Valinir asked, lolling nonchalantly in his chair.

  “Then he should report it to me.”

  “Not stop us?”

  Gonçalves’s eyebrows knit together. “No. They had no order from me to do anything other than watch.”

  “I would reconsider your relationship with the city’s master,” I said. “I think he’s double dealing.”

  The mage cocked his head slightly and raised an eyebrow.

  “We were attacked,” Valinir said, “by ten Vampires armed with klestrithi. They gave every indication that our deaths were their first priority.”

  The smug look on Gonçalves’s face faded. He sat up straight and leaned forward. “Were you hurt?”

  Valinir chuckled, but the mirth didn’t reach his eyes, which stared straight at the Human mage.

  I glanced down at my hand. “We weren’t hurt, but I could have chipped a nail. Rather irksome.” And so much bullshit. I could have chipped a nail, but I didn’t, and it would be difficult anyway since I kept my nails so short.

  “I don’t deny that Vampires can be dangerous,” Valinir said, “but my kind used to hunt them for sport. We are more civilized now. I’ve seen little evidence that Vampires are. But if we have to deal with such inconveniences again, I might consider setting a ward around their nest and then lighting it on fire.”

  Gonçalves looked uncomfortable. I saw terror flare in his butler’s eyes.

  “I shall look into it,” Gonçalves said.

  “You still haven’t told me why you’re interested in a Dragon’s egg,” I said. “Have you ever seen a Dragon?”

  Gonçalves shook his head. “To my knowledge, Earth has not seen a Dragon in my lifetime.”

  “I have seen one,” I said. “You know they are indestructible, don’t you? Oh, maybe a nuclear weapon might kill one, but the Chinese haven’t had much luck with that strategy against demons. Dragons eat demons—and pretty much anything else they can catch. But of more concern is what happens when a Dragon hatches. A young Dragon is a mindless carnivore with even less intelligence and restraint than the demons. The reason we are looking for the egg, is to transport it out of this realm. Until we do that, we will continue to search.”

  “And believe me,” Valinir said, “no one in this realm wants us coming after them.”

  He stood, and I followed him.

  “We shall be going now,” Valinir said. “If you hear of a Dragon’s egg, please let us know.” He nodded at me, and I handed Gonçalves my business card.

  As I passed the butler on our way out the front door, I stopped and said, “Please tell your master that he has nothing to fear from us as long as he leaves us alone.”

  He nodded. “I understand.”

  Gonçalves called that evening. “Miss Rogirsdottir, I spoke with the London Vampire master, and he swears the warriors who attacked you were not his.”

  “That’s depressing,” I told Valinir after I hung up. “It means we have more than one bunch of Vampires to deal with.”

  “It also means we have far too many people who know our business,” he said. “I think we need to get out of here. Go someplace else and start the search over again.”

  I wholeheartedly agreed and spent the rest of the evening making phone calls to contacts and poring over maps. The followi
ng morning, we paid our bill at the hotel, but didn’t check out. Taking the tube to Oxford Circus, we changed trains to Trafalgar Square, then changed again to the Tower of London. From there, we travelled to Heathrow, where we donned glamours disguising ourselves as elderly tourists. We wound our way through the airport’s labyrinth, and grabbed a bus to Gatwick airport, which took a couple of hours, and flew out to Prague.

  It would’ve been a miracle if anyone managed to track us through all that.

  Chapter 8

  We checked into a hotel in Prague’s Old Town, found a bistro for lunch, and then went in search of an old friend of mine. I had spoken to him from London, and he suggested that he might have some information for me.

  I first met Josef Palacky in Dresden in 1945. He had been a prisoner of the Gestapo until the allied bombing cracked open the prison. Many of his fellow prisoners were killed, but Josef was a mage, and he set wards around his cell when the bombings started.

  He and I stumbled over each other a couple of nights later, and I immediately felt his magic. I had taken, Kristina, a young girl I found on the street, under my protection. The city was a nightmare, with little to drink or eat, but his magic and mine led us to the same place—a bakery sitting next to a much taller building that had collapsed on top of it. A tunnel through the rubble led to the bakery’s undamaged basement. There I found food and water.

  No sooner had Kristina and I started stuffing our mouths than I realized I had neglected to set a ward of protection on the entrance. I looked up to see Josef, standing in the basement doorway staring at us. I could tell he was much stronger than I was, but nonetheless I drew my sword and made ready to defend us. My fears were unnecessary. He spoke in German—a language I didn’t know—but I saw Kristina relax. Hell, I didn’t know any Earth languages. Later, he and Kristina taught me German.

  Josef showed me his open palms as he sidled around the room and reached for one of the loaves. Then he sat down, cast a ward over the entrance, and began eating the bread as though he was as starved as we were.

  The three of us survived and made it to London together, where some years later Kristina married an Englishman and had three kids. I continued to Ireland, then immigrated to the U.S. in 1948. Josef returned to Czechoslovakia in 1949.

  He was in his late fifties then, but he looked about forty. Seventy-two years after we first met, he was white-haired and thin, but still active and robust, his magic undiminished. Josef owned a shop catering to collectors of old and rare books, and those of interest to the magical community. He welcomed us into his shop, locked the door, and ushered us into a back room where he poured tea.

  “It’s interesting that you should inquire about a Dragon’s egg,” he said. “I’ve had two other inquiries, and also heard a rumor about such an object.”

  “And that rumor being?” I prompted.

  “That someone had an egg to sell. I didn’t consider the source reliable.”

  “A young man who I consider reliable saw a Dragon’s egg in Dublin,” Valinir said. “Then it disappeared. Until we prove the egg doesn’t exist, we must assume it’s here on Earth.”

  I told Josef about what I learned in Dublin and the Vampire attack in London. When I finished, he chuckled.

  “I do know Orlando Gonçalves,” he said. “He has been a rather profitable customer. But if he and Conroy say that they weren’t responsible for the attack on you, I would tend to believe them. Far safer to assume you have another enemy that you don’t know, don’t you think?”

  Valinir nodded. “Yes, I see your point. Better to grow eyes in the back of our heads than pay too much attention to one adversary and get blindsided.”

  Josef beamed. “Precisely.” He poured himself some more tea, then said, “I was also offered what might be a related item. A dealer I know approached me last week and asked if I would be interested in a clutch of dragonet eggs.”

  I had never heard of a dragonet. Valinir leaned forward. “Oh, really. That is very interesting.”

  “What’s a dragonet?” I asked.

  “I wondered the same thing,” Josef said. “He just said they were from Draegar. The eggs weren’t much to look at, and I couldn’t detect anything special about them.”

  “An animal from Draegar,” Valinir said. “They look like a Dragon, but they’re much smaller and not sentient. Intelligence is probably on a level with Earth predators, such as a lion or a wolf. Not a very cuddly pet, but far easier to hatch and keep than a real dragon. They aren’t magical, so they can be confined.”

  Valinir reached for the teapot and refilled his cup. “How many traders do either of you know who deal in Draegarian goods?” he asked.

  I shook my head. Josef was quiet for some time, a distant look in his eyes, then he said, “No. I can’t remember ever seeing anything from Draegar before.”

  “I have,” I said, “That woman at the marketplace in Dublin, but I didn’t ask her where she got her goods. She probably wouldn’t have told me. I’ve also seen gems that had passed through several hands, but no one knew where they came from. Firestones.”

  Valinir nodded. “And that is all I ever saw in Alfheim. Who in their right mind would go to Draegar in the first place?”

  “Can you put us in touch with the man with the eggs?” I asked.

  “I’ll ask him to bring them over,” Josef said, getting up and going to the front of the shop. I heard him make a call, but he didn’t say anything. When he came back, he said, “The line was busy. I’ll try again in a few minutes.

  While we waited, I told Josef and Valinir about the Dragon I had seen as a girl in Midgard. When I finished, Josef tried to call again, but the line was still busy. Rather than take up any more of his time, we got the dealer’s name and address. As we were leaving, I promised Josef we would meet him for dinner the following evening.

  We crossed the river and made our way to Smichov. It wasn’t a part of the city I was very familiar with, and not a place tourists were encouraged to go. I had only been there a couple of times when I visited the magical market in Bertramka.

  Prague had two marketplaces that catered to paranormals and magical Humans. One was on the east edge of the old city and was about the size of the one in Dublin. The market in Bertramka was smaller and far less reputable. It was a place where darker magics and forbidden goods were traded.

  We found the shop Josef told us about. The Alchemist’s Lair sold various elixirs, potions, and charms, along with ingredients to mix your own. Most legitimate alchemists steered clear of such items as love potions, banes, and poisons, but the moment I walked into the shop, I could tell by the smell that its proprietor didn’t have my scruples.

  Unfortunately, I smelled something else, and so did Valinir. His long dagger appeared in his hand as quickly as my athame did in mine.

  Making our way cautiously through the shop, we found Tomas Novotny’s body in the back. He hadn’t died easy or quickly. It also appeared as though it had taken some time for his killer to either extract information from him or decide that the victim didn’t know the information the killer sought.

  Valinir checked the other rooms and came back. “The man who did this enjoyed it,” he said.

  I felt a chill and shuddered. Turning away from the bloody remains of what had been a person, I pointed, “He did have the eggs.”

  A broken egg the size of a softball sat in a basket lined with foam. A tiny dragon form lay in liquid, half-in and half-out of the shell.

  “It wasn’t mature enough to hatch,” I said, “but it was still viable. If whoever has those eggs is patient and incubates them correctly, he’ll have dragonets.”

  “I hope he does,” Valinir said, “and they eat him as their first meal. From what I know, a clutch of dragonets will eat everything in sight when they first hatch.”

  I called Josef and told him his friend was dead. He told us to stay at the shop and that he would be there as soon as he could. We closed up the room with the dead man and went to the front of the
shop. I locked the front door and drew the shades.

  The shop had been searched, but other than leaving it a bit in disarray, the murderer hadn’t been destructive. Assuming the dead man had no more use for his wares, I wandered around and picked up a few ingredients. I didn’t trust any of the finished products.

  “Why are we waiting here?” Valinir asked as he paced about the small shop.

  “Among his talents, Josef is a diviner. Hopefully we’ll get a clue as to who did this.”

  Valinir shook his head. “And that will help us how? I think it’s obvious the person who did it was looking for the Dragon’s egg, and Novotny didn’t know either. Like in London, everyone is looking for it, but it doesn’t help us to chase others who don’t know where it is.”

  I was inclined to agree with him, but Josef was my oldest friend, and I would wait if he wanted me to.

  It took Josef an hour to get there, and when I let him in, he had another man with him. I pointed to the room where Novotny had died. The next thing we heard was what sounded like a cry of pain, then a stream of Czech that I assumed were mostly curse words. After a couple of minutes, Josef led the other man out and pushed him into a chair behind the counter.

  “Marcus is Tomas’s brother,” Josef said. “After we’re done, he’ll call the police.”

  Josef turned and went back into the death room. I peeked in and saw him laying out a bowl, filling it with water, then inscribing a circle around the dead man and setting up candles. I noted the bowl was outside the circle.

  Valinir came up behind me and spoke into my ear. “What is he doing?”

  “Setting up a divination spell,” I said. “He’s going to try and see how Novotny died, and hopefully, who killed him.”

  We watched as Josef lit the candles, then chanted in Latin. The chant was the same words, over and over. After about five minutes, the candles suddenly flared, and their flames became foot-long pillars. The inside of the circle lit up as though a spotlight had been turned on it.

  Josef paused, then began to chant again, different words, while staring into the bowl. Ghostly shadows flickered inside the circle, then suddenly Tomas sat there, alive, naked, and bound to the chair. A man with a knife stood over him.