Winter Kiss

by Deborah Cooke

  The red salamander hissed at Donovan, then leapt for the window.

  The small creature shattered the glass on impact, then shifted shape to a garnet red and gold dragon in the air beyond the window. Donovan changed to a man just long enough to get through the door, then flung himself into the sky in pursuit.

  “Mallory,” Erik murmured. “But why?”

  “I’m at Donovan’s back,” Quinn said, kissed Sara’s cheek, and followed his friend. Thorolf moved to the door to watch the fight.

  “Good.” Erik turned on Sloane, evidently trusting that the two Pyr could defeat the single Slayer. “Tell us what you found.”

  Sloane spoke quickly. “There are two riddles bracketing the text, one at the beginning and one at the end.”

  “Alpha and omega,” Eileen said.

  “My thought exactly,” Sloane agreed. “The beginning and the end.” He read carefully.

  I am the mirror that both heals and kills

  false silver and burning red;

  the stone that flows

  the blood that breathes;

  the source of an immortality

  without breath or pulse.

  “The Elixir,” Ginger guessed, remembering the way Cinnabar floated in the liquid.

  “No,” Alex said firmly. “It’s mercury.”

  Everyone looked at her in surprise.

  Alex ticked off the clues on her fingers. “Mercury is silver, but not sterling. It was called quicksilver for a long time and is a reflective surface like a mirror. It was known to kill germs and consuming it was believed in the Renaissance to confer immortality.”

  “Paracelsus?” Erik asked, as if remembering.

  “He said he cured syphilis with it. I remember that.” Alex smiled. “Maybe that made him feel immortal.”

  “Why burning red, then?” Sara asked.

  “Mercury poisoning is characterized by flushed skin and a burning sensation,” Alex said. “And mercury is the only element that is liquid at room temperature.”

  “Delaney was turning red,” Erik said.

  “And Cinnabar is red,” Ginger agreed.

  “The stone that flows,” Sloane mused.

  “Doesn’t mercury come from cinnabar?” Ginger asked, remembering Magnus’s story.

  “Yes!” Alex said. “That’s one source, and it supposedly bleeds from the stone. That’s how the ancients found the deposits.”

  “Blood that breathes?” Niall asked.

  “Another old name for mercury and quicksilver is dragon’s blood,” Sloane said.

  “And I remember that it’s said to breathe when it’s heated,” Alex said, her excitement clear. “That’s how they discovered the element of oxygen. You heat mercury and it takes in oxygen, then heat it more and it expels it all.”

  “What about the immortality bit?”

  “Cinnabar,” Ginger said. She quickly told the Pyr the story of Magnus’s slave and his work at the cinnabar mine in Spain, as well as his current state. She was quite certain that Sloane was right about the rhyme, then remembered something else.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, evidently seeing her dismay.

  “There was mercury on the pillow last night, right where Delaney’s head had been.”

  “And a bead of it fell from one of his wounds yesterday morning,” Niall supplied with urgency.

  “He’s gone there,” Ginger whispered. Sara gripped her shoulder and the Pyr stirred with concern. Ginger could feel their impatience.

  Erik raised a hand. “We need a plan.”

  “What can we do?” Thorolf asked.

  “Read the last riddle,” Alex demanded, and Sloane did.

  Elusive as water

  Strong as earth

  I work change inexorably

  Fire takes blood to stone

  The cycle can only end

  with my sacrifice.

  “Nice,” Niall said flatly.

  “You dislike the word sacrifice,” Sloane said.

  “When it applies to my friends, yes.”

  “But it doesn’t necessarily,” Sloane argued, leaning forward. “It depends upon the riddle’s solution.”

  “Okay. It could mean the wind,” Niall allowed. “The wind erodes rock over time,so that could be the change.You can’t grab it, so that’s like water, and it can be strong.”

  “But how do you sacrifice the wind?” Sara asked.

  “We don’t want to pursue that,” Erik said as Niall straightened with alarm.

  They all looked at Alex with hope. She frowned and worried her bottom lip with her teeth. “I don’t remember that anything destroys mercury, but chemistry wasn’t my specific area of study. Do you have an Internet connection?”

  “Elusive earth. Elusive strength. Water earth. Strong water,” Sloane mused; then his eyes lit. “Wait. Strong water is a literal translation of aqua fortis.”

  “Should that mean something to us?” Eileen asked.

  “It’s the old name for nitric acid!” Alex said with a snap of her fingers. “Of course!”

  “Of course?” Sara echoed.

  “You put two things together in a chemical reaction, and you get something else,” Alex explained. “So, I’ll bet that mercury and nitric acid together make another mercury compound—by that logic, the nitric acid appears to have been sacrificed, because it’s gone.”

  “What about the fire?” Sloane asked.

  Alex waved a hand dismissively. “How much you want to bet that it’s a reaction that requires heat?” She turned to Erik. “Did you bring your laptop?”

  “I have a high-speed connection in my office,” Ginger said, and Alex practically ran behind her in her excitement.

  In a matter of moments, she shouted in triumph. “Yes! If you heat mercury in a nitric acid solution, mercury oxide crystals precipitate out of the solution.”

  “What does that mean?” Eileen asked.

  “Crystals form and fall out of the solution,” Alex said. “Like, um, sugar crystals forming in the bottom of a bottle of maple syrup. In that case, the sugar has precipitated out of the solution.” Her face appeared around the door frame, her eyes alight. “And yes, those mercury oxide crystals are considered in many traditions to be therapeutic, not toxic.”

  “So, all we have to do to destroy the Elixir is mix it with aqua fortis and boil it.” Erik ran a hand over his forehead at that prospect. “Where are we going to get that much aqua fortis?”

  “Pour sulfuric acid over saltpeter,” Alex said from the other room, obviously reading a reference.

  “Of course,” Thorolf said, his tone skeptical. “Doesn’t everybody carry saltpeter in their luggage?”

  “Or we could just buy the nitric acid,” Alex said, and Sloane chuckled. “I’ll figure out how much. We’ll need cash. . . .”

  “Beguiling will be quicker than answering questions,” Erik said.

  “What’s beguiling?” Ginger asked.

  “It’s a kind of hypnosis,” Niall said. “We use it to persuade humans that they haven’t really seen dragons in the vicinity, for example. Easier for everyone.”

  Ginger bristled. “It wouldn’t be easy for any Pyr who decided to beguile me.”

  “Relax,” Sara said, putting a hand on Ginger’s arm. “None of us volunteer for that.”

  “And we watch out for one another,” Eileen added with a wink.

  “There’s a plant in Cincinnati,” Alex said, looking out the window as she returned to the kitchen. Quinn and Donovan were descending quickly and there was no sign of the garnet red dragon.

  “He ran,” Donovan said with disgust once he entered the kitchen.

  “But why was he here?” Sloane asked.

  “And how did he get into the drain?” Ginger asked.

  “What’s most important is that he’s gone.” Erik was dismissive. “We have to find Rafferty and help Delaney at the sanctuary. I’ll look for Rafferty. Donovan and Quinn, take Alex and get the nitric acid. Sloane and Niall, you take Ginger and fol
low Delaney.”

  “Are you sure she’ll be safe?” Alex asked.

  Erik gave her a hard look. “She is his only chance.”

  “What about me?” Thorolf asked.

  Erik surveyed the tall Pyr and Ginger sensed he had found Thorolf lacking on occasion. “Until I return with Rafferty, you must guard Sara and Eileen and Alex and the children.”

  Thorolf swallowed and stood a little taller.

  Erik looked skeptical. “Are you fit for this task?”

  Thorolf put his closed fist over his heart and spoke with force. “I am the son of Thorvald, who was the son of Thorkel, and you ask me this?”

  The barest smile touched Erik’s lips. “You remembered. Good. It is a start.” He touched his lips to Eileen’s temple and she closed her eyes, squaring her shoulders. “Be strong,” were his murmured words, so softly uttered that Ginger barely heard them.

  Then Niall offered her his hand. “Come fly with me,” he invited. Ginger put the silver cross around her neck before she put her hand in his.

  “Can’t hurt,” she said, checking that her lucky earrings were tightly fastened. She had a glimpse of Thorolf shifting shape, becoming a massive moonstone and silver dragon, his tail coiled across her kitchen floor. His blue eyes glinted dangerously and he exhaled slowly, watchful and alert.

  Then Niall caught Ginger around the waist, leapt off the porch, and shifted shape, flying toward the sanctuary across a clearing sky. Ginger felt the rain in the warming wind. She trusted Delaney’s friends completely, trusted in her own faith, and hoped it was enough.

  It was thrilling to fly with the dragons. Erik led the way, Niall and Sloane on his flanks. Ginger was amazed by how quickly the snow was melting, then by how fast the trio could travel. In moments, they were over the parking lot at Serpent Mound.

  It was still devoid of cars.

  Niall hissed in displeasure as they came close to the sanctuary’s entrance.

  “What is it?” Ginger asked.

  “Mallory and Balthasar and Jorge,” he murmured.

  “I can’t see them,” Sloane said.

  “I can smell them,” Niall insisted. “They’re waiting for us.”

  “Because Delaney is in the sanctuary,” Erik said. “Probably with Magnus.”

  “So is Rafferty,” Niall added.

  “Good,” Erik said, then the three Slayers erupted from the line of trees. Ginger had time to see that Jorge led the way, his topaz and gold dragon form marred by the scar on his back leg. She shuddered in recollection of how he had snatched her and the coldness in his eyes.

  Mallory was garnet red and gold with pearls on his chest, his eye and shoulder still marked with a scab. Ginger knew she didn’t imagine that his eyes gleamed with malice when he saw her.

  The third dragon was agate and gold and his tail was burned. He also looked angry and she knew this had to be Balthasar.

  “Hang on,” Niall said, but Ginger didn’t need any such advice. These Slayers had tried to kill her before and she didn’t doubt they’d be glad to try again.

  Then Niall locked claws with Balthasar. He breathed a brilliant stream of fire at his opponent and Ginger closed her eyes as she hung on.

  Niall pivoted in the air, taking a blow on his back. He ducked and feinted, showing a muscular agility that amazed Ginger.

  She could hear him murmuring, as if he spoke an incantation. He punched Balthasar in the face, then ripped his talons across Balthasar’s gut. Balthasar bellowed and leapt on Niall’s back. Ginger heard Niall’s cry of pain as the Slayer’s talons dug into the top of Niall’s wings.

  Then he writhed and pivoted and struck the Slayer hard enough with his tail to send him tumbling through the sky. Balthasar hit the ground heavily and didn’t immediately move. Ginger recalled that he was the only one who hadn’t drunk the Elixir.

  Sloane and Mallory were locked in a bitter battle, tails entwined and claws locked. They snapped and bit at each other, tumbling end over end as each tried to damage the other. They looked to be equally matched in strength, and Ginger heard the thunder of old-speak. Did they taunt each other? She wouldn’t have been surprised.

  Niall landed on Mallory’s back, shredding the Slayer ’s wings with sure strokes. Mallory screamed in pain and writhed, caught as he was between the two Pyr. At Sloane’s nod, Niall released the Slayer and carried Ginger out of harm’s way.

  Sloane loosed a fearsome torrent of dragonfire on his opponent, burning the beautiful red of Mallory’s scales and blackening his inset pearls. The Slayer attacked with new rage.

  Niall sang outright, the vibration of his voice resonating throughout Ginger’s body. It was a call of urgency, one that made her want to do something.

  How much power did he have over the element of air? It seemed intent upon responding to him. Ginger watched dark clouds gather on the horizon, swirling with violent intent and building like thunderclouds. Niall chanted steadily, cajoling and commanding, his song unwavering in its demand.

  Balthasar picked himself up and shuddered from head to toe. He glared at Niall, then took flight, moving swiftly toward the amethyst dragon.

  Meanwhile, Erik was battling fiercely with Jorge, the Slayer seeing the worst of the exchange. Jorge kept taking dirty shots, but none of them surprised the leader of the Pyr. Erik fought grimly and effectively, reopening Jorge’s leg wound so that the foot fell to the earth again.

  Jorge leapt at Erik, talons extended and teeth bared. Erik struck him across the face with his tail, then snatched the end of Jorge’s tail as the Slayer spun from the force of the blow. Erik swung him around and cast him into the trees below.

  Then she saw figures appear on the horizon. They were dark, like specters but dragon-shaped. They looked like dragons made of dark smoke, or of shadows, and there were three of them on the approach.

  “Shit,” said Sloane, and fought with greater vigor.

  “What’s going on?” Ginger demanded, watching those ominous shapes approach. Their features became more clear with proximity and she could see that they really did have those zombie eyes. Niall sang more loudly and with more force, and the wind was whipped into a frenzy.

  “Shadow dragons,” Sloane supplied when no one else answered her.

  “Dead Pyr raised by Magnus with the Elixir,” Ginger remembered, fearful of the odds facing her Pyr. “Don’t they have to be dismembered and burned to be killed?”

  No one had time to answer her.

  Ginger quietly panicked. Could the three Pyr take on three more opponents? Niall’s chanting became more vehement, as if he shared her concern. Ginger felt the wind mustering. What could she do to help?

  The clouds rolled closer and the wind became stronger. It lifted Ginger’s hair and tossed the trees, unsettled and verging on violence. The sky took on a yellow tinge that Ginger had learned young to distrust.

  Niall chanted more insistently, calling disaster closer, urging it to greater speed. The shadow dragons approached rapidly, their colors becoming visible just as the first funnel cloud appeared. One looked like a copy of Niall, all amethyst and silver, but the silver of his scales seemed tarnished and the amethyst appeared to be clouded with smoke.

  “Phelan,” Niall hissed under his breath.

  “Who’s that?” Ginger demanded.

  “My twin.”

  Phelan snarled and leapt at Niall, talons extended.

  “To me!” Erik cried, and Niall tossed Ginger to the leader of the Pyr. She didn’t have time to be afraid before Erik’s claw closed protectively over her. He held her away from Jorge as that Slayer attacked again.

  Meanwhile, Niall roared with rage. He raised his own claws, then engaged with his twin. His song was lost and Ginger felt the wind easing. The Slayers attacked with force, the other two shadow dragons targeting one of the other Pyr.

  Six against three, and half of the bad guys didn’t die easily. Ginger winced. Surely the good guys couldn’t lose?

  Eileen couldn’t figure out why Zoë was fussin
g so much. She tried to settle the baby, without success. Nothing worked. The breast and the bottle were both rejected. Zoë was neither too warm nor too cold. Her diaper was dry. Yet she wailed and cried and made more fuss than she ever had.

  They’d made another pot of coffee, but it seemed that every time one of them stood up to pour a round, Zoë had another fit of hysterics.

  “The kid’s got lung power,” Thorolf said. “You’ve got to give her that.”

  Alex moved to try to pour coffee again, but Zoë had a screaming fit longer and louder than any of the previous ones, the sheer volume leaving them wincing as Alex stood, pot in hand.

  “They have no way to tell us what they really want,” Sara said sympathetically.

  “That’s it,” Eileen said. “She’s trying to tell us something.”

  “You’ve covered all the options,” Alex said.

  “No, no,” Eileen said, studying her child. “She gave Erik a vision and sent Rafferty one, too. She’s trying to do something Wyvern-like.”

  “But what?” Sara said. The three women watched the baby’s frustration mount as they tried to understand. The toddlers even came closer, as if fascinated by someone who could make more trouble than they could.

  “Baby,” Garrett said with conviction.

  “Yes, she’s a baby, just as you’re not,” Sara agreed. He smiled, showing some of his father’s solemnity, then reached for Zoë.

  She flailed and caught his hand, her crying stopping as soon as they touched. Garrett’s eyes widened as she held fast to his fingers, then he released her and headed for the porch.

  “Garrett!” Sara cried. “Don’t leave the house!”

  He didn’t stop, fumbling with the door with such determination that Eileen got to her feet. The hair was prickling on the back of her neck. “She told him something,” she said. “See where he goes.”

  Thorolf accompanied the boy outside. He went straight to a terra-cotta planter at the end of the porch, one that had been swept free of the snow. Thorolf didn’t let him touch the matching saucer, but brought it back into the house.