The Black Dragon

by Allyson James

  In panic she clutched the girder, and just in time. Annie grabbed her with long, hard fingers and tried to throw her off the top of the bridge.

  Malcolm, chained to the other end of the Golden Gate's tower, saw the flash of light and the brief surge of magic. The wind blew him a scent he knew, the threads of thought he'd never quite forgotten when he'd released Saba from his mark.

  He half stood, arms twisted by the chains, feet so numb they barely supported him. Despite the cold he began to toe off his boots, knowing it would be easier without them.

  Again, when he called up the feeling of dragon within him, the pain sent him reeling. White tinged the edges of his vision, and he fell, shoulders wrenching as the chains caught him. He got one knee back on the platform, and he clung to the metal, panting.

  A flash of light shot from the other end of the tower, blue witch light that swirled high then disappeared. A darker witch light responded, but was swallowed in the stronger blue.

  Saba was holding her own. But the towers of the Golden Gate Bridge were high and precarious and any slip would send her plunging to her death. Malcolm tried to call up his dragon-ness again, and once more knifelike pain speared his body.

  Malcolm watched the play of blue light in the darkness as he caught his breath. She would die while he sat chained and helpless, which was exactly what the white dragon wanted.

  But she is one of mine. That made him bound to protect her, never mind that he'd severed the mark—a dragon's mark obligated him to protect and watch over those he'd put into his thrall. It was one of the most basic instincts in a dragon. His duty to those he marked outweighed the duty to any who enslaved him. The white dragon forgot that, but Malcolm never would.

  He got to his hands and knees, gritting his teeth, and reached once more for the dragon inside him.

  Saba battled for her life. She knew the other witch was not as strong physically or magically, but Annie fought desperately, as though she didn't worry about toppling from the tower and ending up a battered body in the bay. Saba could see nothing in the blackness and fog but Annie and the red-painted girder. Still, she sensed the empty air beneath the platform and tried to keep her panic under control.

  Annie's magic was weak but infused with darkness that cut through it like tar. The darkness was terrifying, but somewhere beneath it, she felt the comforting presence of Malcolm, which gave her heart. He was near, if only she could see him.

  Annie caught her off guard and Saba slipped and fell. She experienced watery panic when she slid toward the edge, but she thanked the Goddess for maintenance work which left handholds for those painting or repairing the bridge. Saba grabbed the metal loop and clung to it; trying to swing her feet up to gain purchase on the metal ledge.

  She mentally drew a circle around her, trying to raise a bubble of power to protect her. Annie launched herself at Saba, physically beating at her with fists. The two rolled precariously on the platform, Saba holding onto the metal grip until she thought her fingers would twist off.

  Annie pried at Saba's hand, her nails digging like claws. Saba felt her grip go, and she slid headfirst toward the edge of the platform. She hung there, her foot hooked around the handhold, her head and shoulders over empty space. She could see the underside of the platform and vertigo left her too nauseous to scream.

  But what she saw under the platform gave her the strength to scramble back to the ledge. She grabbed the handhold again and kicked Annie's legs out from under her. Annie shrieked and clawed at Saba.

  Black fingers of magic snaked from Annie and wrapped around Saba, squeezing her until she thought it would cut her in two. She kicked again and almost by chance caught Annie square in the abdomen. Annie gasped and staggered back, too close to the edge. She flailed, trying to keep her balance, then a sharp gust of wind shoved her and she fell, her scream horrible.

  Bile rose in Saba's throat. She lay panting and gasping on her stomach, wind pounding at her, feeling sadness and horror and anger at the stupidity of Annie's death.

  Annie's scream abruptly cut off, and a white dragon rose on wings luminous in the darkness. He clutched Annie securely in his claw and bent a green eye filled with fury and hatred on Saba.

  He dove once around the tower, then flew straight for Saba, his mouth open. She sensed the magical heat building inside him and knew he was about to encase her in flames.

  She drew a breath and shouted in the loudest voice she could, "Aren't you afraid you'll bum it?"

  The white dragon's mouth and eyes narrowed as he pinpointed her for a precise arrowlike flame. Saba drew her magic around her as best she could and prayed to the Goddess for help, but she knew she'd never withstand the dragon's fire. She gazed down the dragon's throat as he drew a breath, saw the fire that would end her life.

  Then twenty tons of black dragon, chains trailing from his talons, knocked the white dragon aside.

  Malcolm's dragon cry rang against the steel pillars of the bridge, his eyes glowing in the fog. But the usual keenness of his gaze was dim and dull, his flight erratic. Saba felt in him vast amounts of pain, felt him struggle to maintain his dragon form.

  The white dragon turned to face the new threat. The white dragon—Roland—was rested and at full strength, while Malcolm was already hurt. The fiery music of Malcolm's true name rang in the air, and Malcolm roared in pain.

  Black and white dragon fought and twisted around each other like a bizarre parody of yin and yang, rolling and tumbling in the fog. Annie clung to Roland's claws, terrified. Saba could only watch, trying to maintain the circle around her to stave off stray bursts of fire.

  The only spells she knew that didn't involve meditation, circles, and crystals were simple glamour or coercion spells and for those she had to look directly into the gaze of her victim. Unlikely with both dragons flying fast and fighting hard, closing eyes for protection against raking claws.

  Malcolm was losing. He had to fight his true name as well as the white dragon, and though he battled with all his strength, it wasn't enough. Saba felt the white dragon's glee as he battered Malcolm, singing Malcolm's true name deep in his throat.

  You're killing him, stop it.

  The white dragon had no intention of stopping. He seized his advantage, kicking and tearing and biting at Malcolm while Malcolm bellowed in pain. Fire gushed from Malcolm's mouth, but Saba knew he struggled to even remain conscious. He had one focus in his mind, and that was to wipe the knowledge of his true name from the white dragon's brain.

  But the white dragon was stronger, unhampered by magic and pain. He dodged Malcolm's fire, getting only the edge of it, then turned his entire fury on the black dragon. Saba heard the dragon's gloating laughter, felt the fog heat with the fire from deep within the white dragon's belly.

  The white dragon's claws ripped across Malcolm's throat. Saba screamed as bright red blood poured from Malcolm's neck like scarlet rain. Malcolm attacked, but his eyes drooped with exhaustion as he rolled to the side. The white dragon backed up to bathe him in a stream of pinpointed flame.

  The fire engulfed Malcolm's body. His dragon hide was meant to stand it, but the huge gash in his neck caught, flames burning his blood and running inside his throat with a horrible smell of charred flesh.

  Malcolm fell in a blaze of fire, his eyes wide with pain. At the last minute, he raked his talons across the other dragon's underbelly, drawing scarlet blood against the white. Then he went down. He spread his wings to slow his descent, but one wing was badly torn, and he fell in a slow tumble.

  "Saba." She heard his voice clearly in her mind, all dark velvet and smooth, then it winked out.

  * * *

  Chapter 14

  Saba screamed. She threw every bit of power she could at the white dragon, battering at him with spells and energy. The white dragon flinched when her magic touched his torn underbelly, but for the most part her spells bounced off him, ineffectual. And then he came for her.

  She thought of what she'd seen chained beneath the platform
. She had no way of knowing whether dumping it might slow him down, but it was worth a try.

  She dropped to her belly, trying not to flinch at the incredible emptiness beneath her, held onto the edge of the platform, and looked under it. The book hung just out of reach of any but those who could fly, fastened in place with thick chains. All she had to do was loosen the chains and The Book of All Dragons would tumble into the sea.

  The white dragon could certainly intercept it before it fell very far, but that would give Saba time to try to open the portal to the pagoda. Axel and Lumi, if they were still there, could get her to safety, where she could regroup and decide what to do.

  No, what she'd do was break down and go to pieces over losing Malcolm. If he'd survived the fall, he'd likely drown in the sea below; she had no way of getting down to the water to help him. He'd only just come back into her life, far too soon to have him wrenched out of it again.

  Trying to ignore the heartbreak inside her, she focused her thoughts on the chains around the fat book. A good witch could visualize any possibility and make it happen, under any conditions. She wondered briefly if any other witch had ever tried to dispose of a book while hanging upside down from the top of the Golden Gate Bridge, then she made herself focus. She thought hard about the chains weakening and pulling apart, imagined the book falling, falling into the black water below.

  Saba tried to ignore the fast bulk of white dragon zooming at her, tried to calm her mind to everything but loosening the chains. She thought she saw one link move, then she became sure of it. The link stretched and broke, and another began to quiver. The white dragon bellowed in rage.

  "Leave me alone," Saba cried. "Or the book goes."

  "Stupid witch. If you think I'll let you destroy it…"

  He turned, preparing to strike a blow with his tail that would sweep Saba from the platform. At the same time, Annie, still secure in the white dragon's fist, screamed, "Look!"

  From the dark smudge of shore came a streak of gold, as bright as the city lights and powerful enough to shine through the fog. The gold speck grew until it became discernable, a large glittering golden creature with a wingspan of a hundred feet. Fire spewed from his mouth, heating the fog to boiling steam.

  Caleb charged in with the precision of a honed fighter, easily missing the fire and claws the white dragon aimed at him. He swept aside and barrel-rolled, plunging his back talons into the taut skin of the white dragon's wings. The skin ripped like torn silk, and the white dragon slipped, beating injured wings hard to stay aloft.

  Golden dragons were larger than frost dragons, born and bred for fighting. A black dragon could outthink any dragon in Dragonspace, but what goldens lacked in thinking capacity, they more than made up for in might and fighting tactics. They knew when to strike and when to dance aside, knew how to taunt and when to move in for the kill.

  Annie was shrieking inside the white dragon's fist. He held her fast, but protecting her hampered him, a fact Caleb took full advantage of. He thumped another blow on the white dragon's wings that sent the beast reeling.

  "That was for my kids," Caleb snarled. He slammed his tail against the white dragon's back legs, neatly flipping him in midair. "That's for Lisa. You're lucky they all made it, or I'd be really pissed."

  Beneath her terror and grief, Saba felt a moment's relief that Lisa and the two babies were all right. Then she clung harder to the platform, heart in her throat, as the battle continued.

  The white dragon fought hard, but he'd already spent energy on Malcolm, while Caleb was fresh and enraged. The white dragon turned aside to try to grab the book under the bridge, and Caleb used this distraction to renew his attack.

  Saba had never seen a true dragon fight before tonight, and she hoped she never would again. Caleb's eyes flared blue, the good-natured hunk who liked to watch television replaced by a savage warrior lusting for a kill. That he would kill the white dragon she had no doubt. Caleb was not trying to scare him off or threaten, he wanted the white dragon's body floating lifelessly in the sea.

  Alongside Malcolm's…

  In desperation, the white dragon turned back to the platform, back feet extended, intent on Saba's death. His blow caught Saba in the side and sent her screaming and tumbling from the platform. At the last minute, she managed to grab the edge, and there she hung, legs flailing, terror pounding through her body.

  Saba always wondered how she'd face certain death, whether her life would flash before her eyes or if she'd have a profound thought to pass on to whoever was with her. Now she knew. She didn't bother with dignity or profound thoughts—she screamed like mad and fought to save herself, knowing her numb hands and weakening arms could give at any moment.

  Something powerful jerked her off the ledge, and she screamed again, throat raw, but a rumbling voice said. "It's all right, I've got you."

  The warmth of Caleb's golden claw closed around her, his strength dissolving her panic. She dragged in shallow breaths and sank against his firm palm beneath her, finding her hands bloody and her face wet with tears.

  Caleb hovered, wings pumping, and Saba shoved her hair from her eyes and looked around for the white dragon. She saw nothing but a white speck above the cliffs west of the Golden Gate, heading out to open sea.

  "He got away," she gasped.

  "For now," Caleb said.

  She realized that Caleb had given up the opportunity to make the final kill to rescue her. All she could feel was relief. "Thank you, Caleb."

  "The choice wasn't hard," he said, sounding reasonable. "I didn't want you to fall. We'd better find Malcolm's body before someone realizes he's not a whale."

  She didn't like his words, but knew he was right. Caleb would have to get Malcolm out of here somehow, to Dragonspace, which meant Saba would have to attempt a door because they'd never get seventy feet of dragon back to Lisa's apartment. And then… she didn't know. Did dragons bury their dead? Metz would need to be informed, and another black dragon would have to take over the archive.

  Tears slid down her face. "Caleb, wait," she said. "The Book of All Dragons. We need it."

  Caleb turned, drifting under the platform where she pointed. "I can't believe all this fuss is over a book."

  "A very important book." Her voice trembled, and she heard herself babbling. "Very, very important."

  "See how dangerous hoarding books can be? Why can't black dragons hoard gems, gold, and silver like the rest of us?"

  He grumbled and snarled but at the same time gently positioned himself so Saba could reach up, pull off the chains she'd loosened and take down the book. It was heavy and very thick, bound in supple leather and held closed with an old-fashioned clasp. The cover was inlaid with gemstones and gold that flashed in the darkness. Saba hugged the book to her chest, barely able to lift it.

  "Got it?" Caleb asked. "Good. Hold on."

  He dropped rapidly, and Saba bit back another scream, but his grip was so true that Saba didn't even have to hang on. Caleb dipped below the fog, the night pitch-black beneath the fog's muffling blanket. An intermittent stream of cars flowed across the bridge, seemingly oblivious to the battles that had gone on far above.

  Ships, huge, long, and bound across the Pacific, floated ponderously through the shipping lanes, freighters moving cargo. Caleb flew fast, circling in and out of the fog, keeping to the darkness as he searched.

  They found Malcolm well out of the shipping lanes, washed up against the quiet cliffs north and west of the bridge. Malcolm's huge black body lay motionless, wings outstretched in the water, the only thing keeping him afloat.

  Caleb dove to him. He dug his back talons into Malcolm's body and half lifted, half dragged him toward the dark, empty cliffs that lined the shore.

  "He's alive," Caleb announced.

  "What?" Saba's heart thumped faster, adrenaline flaring. "But he fell…"

  "He managed to survive." Caleb grunted. "Damn, he's heavy."

  He let go of the body, which landed on the grass and brush at t
he cliff top. Malcolm's eyes were half closed and lifeless. Caleb set Saba gently on her feet, then there was a tingle of magic, a rush of displaced air, and Caleb the man faced her.

  He was naked, bronzed body a smudge in the dark, golden hair a mess. He removed his fingers from the armband he'd slid on, gold with a dragon etched on it, the armband Saba had made for him long ago. A powerful piece that allowed him to shape-shift between dragon and human form.

  Hands on hips, he surveyed the dragon stretched out on the grass and dirt. It was dark here now, and silent, but this was a recreation area that would start to fill with people at dawn. She was about to ask Caleb how they were going to deal with Malcolm in his dragon form, when his huge body shimmered then settled into Malcolm the man.

  He was shivering. His body was covered with abrasions and bruises, skin cold and clammy, his eyes half-closed, hair slick with water. Saba dropped to her knees, letting the heavy tome she earned fall to the ground.

  "We have to get him warm." She pressed her hands to his chest, barely able to feel it rise and fall. "If I had my crystals with me, or a cell phone…"

  "You could heal him with a cell phone?" Caleb knelt on Malcolm's other side, darkness lending modesty to his naked form.

  "Caleb—"

  "I was joking. I can carry you both back to the city—unless he turns into a dragon again. Who knows if he's controlling that or it's something instinctive?"

  Saba looked up at him. "Where could you land where you won't be seen?"

  "In Golden Gate Park. It's where I left my clothes anyway. I can get help from there."

  She nodded tightly. "Let's do it then."

  Caleb pulled off his armlet and became fifty feet of golden dragon again. The beauty of him took Saba's breath away, his huge length of gleaming scales and magnificent blue eyes, so different from Malcolm and yet possessing the strength that made dragons so irresistible.

  Her tired mind registered little more than that. She had time to lift the heavy book again before Caleb swept up both her and Malcolm, one in each hand, and launched himself skyward.