Dragonvein - Book Three

by Brian D. Anderson

  Jonas turned to look. “Who is that?” he asked.

  “The police, I think.” Markus didn’t bother explaining any further. “Just keep quiet and stay still.”

  “What do they want with us?” he asked nervously. Though he didn’t know exactly what the police were, he had obviously identified them as some sort of authority.

  “Hopefully nothing. So just stay calm.”

  Markus turned at the next right and then pulled to the curb. The jackets they had taken said security on the chests, so as long as the rest of their clothing remained unseen, there was always a chance the officer might accept them as such. Unless the bodies had been found, of course. If that was the case, it wouldn't take a detective to figure out what happened.

  The officer approached the driver’s door, hand resting on his sidearm. Markus searched for a way to roll down the window, finally figuring out that it was operated by a button rather than the hand crank he had seen in the past.

  “Is there a problem?” he asked, trying to sound confused as to why they were being pulled over.

  The officer scrutinized him for a moment, then bent down to take a closer look at Jonas. “You guys are a bit far from home, aren’t you?”

  “I’m just trying to get this old guy home,” Markus said. “He wandered up, a bit confused and lost. I loaned him a spare jacket of mine to keep warm.”

  “You should have called us,” the cop said. He leaned a little closer. “Is that right old timer? You lost?”

  “He doesn’t speak English,” Markus explained quickly.

  “Then how do you know he’s lost?”

  “Lucky for him, I speak Dutch.”

  The cop looked at him skeptically. “That’s a hell of a coincidence, I’d say.”

  Praying that the man would not recognize Dutch when he heard it, he turned to Jonas and said in the language of Lumnia: “Say something and point straight ahead.”

  After a moment of hesitation, Jonas pointed. “What’s going on? Are we in trouble?”

  “We’ll know in a few seconds.”

  Markus turned back to the officer. “He says his house isn’t far. Just up the street a few more blocks.”

  “You want me to take him?” he offered.

  “That’s all right,” Markus said, producing his very best 'nice guy' smile. “I don’t mind. I speak his language.”

  A chirp from his radio caught the officer’s attention. “Hang on there a second,” he ordered, stepping a few paces away from the car.

  Markus listened carefully. After a few seconds, he heard what he was fearing the most - a terse report of two security guards found dead and their car stolen. He was about to slam the car into drive, but unlike the guards, the officer was well trained. He had drawn his weapon and was leveling it at Markus' head even before the report was complete.

  “Don’t fucking move,” he shouted.

  Jonas looked terrified. “What’s happening?”

  Markus took a deep breath. “Listen to me closely, Jonas. I'm going to distract him. When I do, I want you to run like hell. Find the last mage and take him back to Lumnia. Whatever happens to me, don’t stop running. And tell Lylinora that I love her.”

  “Let me see your hands!” the cop commanded.

  Markus raised his hands. If he was quick, the first shot might miss. If he could take one in the shoulder, it might give Jonas enough time to escape.

  “Now with your right hand, reach out and open the door.”

  The officer’s hands were steady and his tone hard. This was an experienced cop. A fact that did not bode well. But before Markus could do as ordered, Jonas opened the door on the other side. As he stepped out, the officer swung his weapon over.

  “Don’t fucking move!”

  “Stay where you are, Jonas!” Markus called.

  But Jonas seemed to have a plan all of his own. Feigning the expression of a confused old man, he rounded the front of the car. “Get ready to run,” he told Markus. “You're much faster than me. You'll have a better chance.”

  The cop repeated his order, clearly reluctant to shoot a helpless old man.

  “Please don’t hurt him,” Markus pleaded. “He doesn’t know what’s going on.”

  “Well tell him to get on the ground!”

  “He’s going to kill you,” warned Markus desperately. “Stop!”

  Jonas looked at Markus with an expression that told him there would be no argument. He had made up his mind. He smiled over and said, “I told you that you would need me.”

  He made a sudden charge at the cop.

  The crack of the gun going off jerked Markus into motion. He wasn’t sure if Jonas had been hit, but could see that the old guy was still on his feet and advancing. The officer tried to turn the weapon in his direction, but before he could take proper aim, Jonas was on him, wrapping both arms around the man and heaving with all his strength.

  Instinctively, Markus ran. The knowledge that Jonas had most likely been shot was tearing him apart, but the success of their mission was the most important thing of all. He had to keep moving, otherwise Jonas’ sacrifice would have been for nothing. Another shot rang out - then another. It took all of Markus' will not to look back. Sirens were already howling in the distance, telling him that more police were on the way. He ran even faster, heading for the house that the pendant had indicated.

  With lungs burning from the cold air, he spanned the three steps leading up to the front door in a single leap and knocked heavily. He could hear someone moving around inside. A few seconds later, the door opened.

  The man standing there made Ethan look positively muscle-bound. He was a bit older than expected – perhaps in his early thirties – rail thin, with unkempt brown hair and round glasses. Markus thought he looked as if a stiff breeze would blow him over. He stared irritably at his visitor, a thick book tucked under his arm.

  “What do you want?” he demanded.

  Before replying, Markus reached inside his shirt and produced his pendant. The rajni stone set in it was now pulsing so rapidly that it appeared almost as a steady light. This was who he wanted; there was no doubt about that.

  “Can I come in?” he asked. He could hear the sounds of the sirens growing louder.

  But the man’s eyes were fixed on the pendant, a terrified expression now showing on his face. “Get out of here,” he growled. “I’m not going back. You hear me?”

  He attempted to slam the door, but Markus’ arm shot forward, easily keeping it open. The man struggled for only a few seconds before realizing it was hopeless and giving up.

  “I guess you know what this is,” Markus said, now using the language of Lumnia. “And why I'm here.”

  The man backed away a few paces. “Of course I do.” Though his reply was also in Lumnian, it carried a strange accent; no doubt created by many years of living on Earth.

  Markus stepped inside, closing the door quickly behind him. It wouldn’t take long for the police to follow his trail in the snow, so he needed to act fast. He glanced at his surroundings. Beyond the threshold was a small living room with a cast iron stove at the far right wall, and a matching sofa and two chairs to the left. The walls bore pictures of unfamiliar places, as well as an extra-large painting of a sailing vessel in a churning sea. An open door at the back of the room led through to the rest of the small house.

  The man didn’t look afraid any longer. If anything, he looked angry. “I’m not going back, and that's the end of it,” he stated defiantly.

  “You have to,” insisted Markus. The sirens had fallen silent, which meant the search for him would begin very soon. “And you have to go now.” He could see that the man was weighing his options. “You can come willingly, or…” He took a menacing step forward.

  “Why? Why do you want me to go back? I have a life here.”

  “We need your help.”

  “So Shinzan still lives?” He didn’t wait for a response. “And I suppose you need me to help you fight him. Well, you can just go
straight to hell.”

  “Listen to me…”

  “David. My name's David.”

  “Listen to me, David. There's a man lying dead in the snow right now who sacrificed his life to bring you back. So like it or not, you’re coming with me.” Markus loomed over the slight figure, his eyes ablaze with determination.

  After a tense moment, David's shoulders sagged. “Okay. You win. But I need to pack a few things first.”

  Markus stepped over to the window. No one was coming just yet. “Two minutes,” he snapped.

  David cocked his head. “So the sirens…they’re for you?”

  “Just hurry up and get what you need.”

  Markus followed him through into a modestly furnished bedroom. He watched impatiently as David packed clothes, some books, and a few other odds and ends into a blue duffle bag – the whole time muttering curses under his breath.

  “How is it you know about Shinzan?” Markus asked.

  “I was fifteen when I came here,” he replied, at the same time struggling to fit yet more items inside his bag. “My mother and I were fleeing to the mountains when we were caught. My father was already dead…along with the rest of my family.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  David sneered. “Are you? Then why are you forcing me to go back? If Shinzan is still alive, you’re taking me off to die.”

  Something about David’s apparent weakness brought forth anger in Markus. He forced the feeling aside; he knew it was only Specter making trouble. “I’m doing no such thing,” he said. “You are the last piece of the puzzle we need to give us victory over Shinzan. Together, we'll be able to rid Lumnia of him forever.” Even as the words came out, he knew he really didn’t believe them.

  “Yeah, right.”

  Voices from nearby outside caught Markus’ attention. “We’re out of time. We need to go now.”

  “Just one more thing,” David said, reaching down beneath his bed. He came up holding a snub nosed revolver.

  Only Markus’ experience and quick reflexes saved his life. He had known something was wrong the moment David bent down. At the first sight of the gun, he threw himself sideways and forward.

  Inside such a small room, the shot was deafening. The bullet that would have otherwise hit Markus just below the throat, instead tore into his left bicep. Even though instantly aware of the searing pain, sheer adrenaline and the need for urgent action drove him on. He grabbed for the gun, managing to secure David’s wrist and force it upwards just as another shot fired into the ceiling. With his left arm hanging uselessly, he continued using his right hand and overwhelming strength advantage to smash David's arm against the metal frame of the bed. The weapon quickly dropped to the floor.

  The sound of the two shots would have certainly attracted the attention of the police. Markus knew he was out of time and options. Blood was dribbling steadily from the wound, and he could feel the bullet buried within his flesh. With David struggling wildly to get to the door, it was time to do things the hard way. Still with a vice-like hold on his wrist, Markus threw him hard back against the wall. David crashed into the plaster and slid to the floor, badly stunned. But this wasn't enough. Only after delivering a heavy blow to his temple that knocked him completely unconscious did Markus step away.

  Voices from directly outside began shouting for him to come out. After slamming the bedroom door shut, he ripped off the pendant and threw it on the floor. He prayed that the police would use at least a little bit of caution before charging in with guns blazing. That might just slow them down long enough for him to escape. Without wasting another second, he grabbed the rock from his pouch and smashed it down on the rajni stone. At the same time, there was the sound of the front door being kicked in.

  The portal exploded to life. Grunting with the pain of his injured arm, he used his good one to heft up the mercifully light David. But the portal wasn't yet big enough. This time, it seemed to be growing with agonizing slowness. The seconds passed desperately by.

  The door to the bedroom flew open. “Don’t move!” shouted an officer.

  At last the spinning portal had increased sufficiently. It was do or die time. The sinews of Markus' legs sprang to life in a single, desperate leap.

  The last thing he heard before passing into the light was the sound of a final shot being fired.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Markus’ head was pounding as consciousness returned. He could feel that he now had another wound - this one just above his right ear - and that blood was soaking his cheek and shoulder. The injury to his arm was also throbbing like crazy. As he tried to sit up, a pair of hands helped him from behind.

  “You are injured.” It was King Ganix.

  “I’ll be fine,” he responded, though he wasn’t sure how true that was. He touched the wound to his head and breathed a sigh of relief. The bullet had only grazed him.

  Renald was kneeling over the unconscious body of Lylinora. “She’ll be all right,” he said, sensing Markus’ concern.

  David was lying a few feet away, still out from Markus’ punch.

  After a few moments, Renald crossed over and began tending to Markus’ wounds. “I’m no healer,” he said, “But I can help you well enough until Lylinora recovers to do it properly.” As he let the healing magic flow into the wounds, he glanced over at David. “So this is him?”

  Markus nodded.

  “And what of Jonas?” The look in Markus’ eyes quickly told him the answer. “Goodbye my friend,” he muttered, closing his eyes. “You will be greatly missed.”

  “What happened?” asked Ganix.

  Markus recounted the events, pausing only to move to Lylinora’s side when Renald had finished healing him. The wounds still hurt, but the bullet was removed and the bleeding had stopped.

  Both Renald and Ganix regarded David with troubled expressions.

  “If he was so unwilling, I wonder if he will be of any use at all.” Ganix remarked.

  “He’ll be useful,” asserted Renald. “I'll make sure of it. Jonas will not have given his life for nothing. That much I can promise you.”

  “Are you sure he’s dead?” asked Ganix.

  Markus shook his head, eyes downcast. “Not certain. But I'm pretty sure he was hurt. And before you ask – no, there was no way for me to save him. He was determined to do what he did.”

  “I wasn’t going to ask,” said Ganix.

  “No one is questioning your decision, Markus,” added Renald. “He knew the risks and he accepted it. You did the only thing you could. Had you tried to save him, both of you would most likely be dead and the final mage still would not be here.”

  “The good news is that he was fifteen years old when he was sent to Earth,” Markus told them. “So he probably knows at least some magic already.”

  Renald nodded. “He will for certain. At fifteen he would have been well on his way.”

  Lylinora stirred and then her eyes fluttered open. When she saw Markus sitting beside her, she smiled and touched his cheek. “I knew you’d come back.”

  “Of course I did. Nothing would keep me apart from you.” He leaned down to kiss her tenderly.

  Taking his hand, she pulled herself up. “Where is Jonas?”

  “Lost, I'm afraid.”

  Lylinora's mouth set firmly as she nodded acceptance of this. “I see. And the mage.”

  “He’s here.” There was more than a touch of disdain in Markus' voice. “And he was not very happy about coming back.”

  “He’s waking up,” called Ganix.

  David groaned and shifted. “What….?” His eyes popped open. “Where am I?”

  Markus’ muscles tensed from a powerful desire to throttle him. “Where do you think?” He pushed himself to his feet and offered Lylinora his hand.

  “Be calm,” she said, sensing his fury building.

  David sat up, his eyes flashing wildly around. The moment he saw Ganix, he scrambled back to the edge of the platform. It was then that he saw the dragons. �
��No!” he screamed. “This can’t be. Not again.” He slid further back until, with a yelp of fright, he tumbled completely off the platform and landed with a thump on the pebble strewn ground.

  Ganix hopped down and knelt beside him. Renald looked as if he felt the same way as Markus and remained on the platform.

  “There is nothing to be afraid of,” Ganix said in a soothing tone. “No one will harm you.” He offered his hand.

  It took several seconds for David to recover from his fall. When he did, rather than take the king's hand, he scrambled to his feet and scurried around to the far side of the platform. “Stay back,” he shouted. “I mean it.”

  Holding up his hand, he muttered a single word under his breath. When nothing happened, he looked fearfully at the dwarf. Again he spoke, this time more loudly. “Pyrifia.” This time, a small ball of flame no bigger than a marble appeared above his palm. It flickered like a candle in a breeze.

  Lylinora laughed. “I think what you are trying to do is this.” She held out her hand. “Pyrifia.” A ball of flame twice the size of a man’s head flashed into being.

  At once, David’s tiny spell dissipated. Now in a complete panic, he ran for all he was worth. Ignoring the dragons, he raced along the wall of the canyon, only to discover he had gone in the wrong direction and had trapped himself. Searching frantically for a way out, he saw the path leading up the canyon face on the far side. But it could not be reached without first passing Lylinora. He cowered away from her in terror, pressing his back hard to the rock.

  Ganix shot her a scolding look. “There is no reason to terrify the poor man.”

  Lylinora dismissed the spell and smiled at Markus. “It’s one of the first elemental spells we are taught. Not very strong and relatively easy to master.”

  “Do it again,” he suggested, a sinister grin forming. “Only this time, make it bigger.”

  “No,” snapped Ganix. “I don’t care what he did, you will not torment him. Am I understood?”