by Unknown
Uh-huh, and those red-black too-wide eyes that definitely said, hybrid. Yes, and madness, too, Tallain realized suddenly, feeling a coldness shiver down her spine. If his breeding was what she guessed, no wonder he was mad. Madness and magic together...
"I do not have guests," he said.
Nice voice, rich and deep. Too bad he was as crazy as the wind. That explained those shadow-things, tangible and intangible at the same time: crazy, indeed. "Leave Portals open like that," she said, "and you're bound to have more."
He gestured, and Tallain was slammed back into a wall. "You will learn respect!"
O...kay, fellow, anything you say. Basic rule of agenting: Play along with the enemy till you had him figured out. She gave him her most innocent stare. "But I do not even know who you are."
"I do not waste time in banter!"
"But I am Tallain." She could be free with it since it wasn't her true name. "Surely you...?"
"If you wish a name, let it be Arag. But I am no mere human. In me runs the blood of demons!"
I was right. Wish I wasn't. Demon-human crosses don't make sane offspring. Or give those offspring predictable powers, for that matter. "I see," Tallain said somberly.
"Ah, you show no fear! You are wiser than the other fools."
By now, Tallain's senses had recovered enough to tell her this wasn't a demon realm, just one of the many pockets of non-reality between the realms. That wasn't as comforting a thought as it might have been, because it was his pocket, and that mean it gave him extra strength.
Ah, including the strength to change the whole scene without effort, because they were now in a cavern like a great open mouth, reddish and shadowy. No, not shadows, Tallain's senses told her, just vagueness around the edges. So, now! His will couldn't extend far enough to keep the whole scene solid. Not infallible, then.
As long as Serein doesn't slide away into that vagueness. Come on, dammit, guy, shift!
Not a sound from where he lay. Where she hoped he still lay, not that she could risk a glance over her shoulder to find out.
In the center of the cavern stood a chair that was only one grade less grand than a throne, elegantly worked out of dull red stone. It was surrounded by random heaps of the riches that had been stolen from Kansillaydra's people. Arag took his throne, his robe falling in smooth folds around him, and studied her with cold interest. Fighting the impulse to pirouette, Tallain said, "Now what?"
"You still show no fear. The others do, and that makes them victims. But you... who are you to show no fear?"
Then he didn't know she was an agent, or that Serein was her partner. "I am too impressed to be afraid."
"Impressed! By what? By this?"
"Revealing this new scene," Tallain said carefully. "That was truly amazing."
"That is nothing! There should be much more—and there will be much more!"
"Is that why you... farm the city?"
"'Farm,' ha. Yes. I like that. They are sheep, and I am the scythe that takes their lives."
Why oh why didn't I take that course on abnormal minds? One of those things she had planned to get around to doing—assuming there was an around to get to after this. "You take their riches," Tallain prodded delicately.
Arag shrugged. "They have no right to such things. They infest the city, no more than that. My mother's people built it! I take what belongs to me, but mere riches are not enough. Their young, their vermin, their life forces are strong and sweet, but they are not enough!"
Oh hell. Those poor kids. At least, she reminded herself, she'd saved one of them. It strained her self-control to the limit to do nothing more than ask mildly, "But why?"
He suddenly stood, looming over her with eyes like smoldering red coals. "I am of the true blood, the dark blood." His voice was barely a whisper. "My father no mere demon. No, he was nothing less than a demon prince, and he must be honored in me. And then I will be a prince as well!"
Not if I have any say in the matter. Not that I have a clue as to what I'm going to do to stop you.
Second rule of agenting: Keep them talking. Sooner or later they trip themselves up or give you a clue about weaknesses.
"That's amazing," Tallain said. "I mean—a demon prince."
"Do you not believe me?"
"Of course! I... simply have to wonder..."
She let that trail off, gambling that there was enough human blood in him for curiosity.
There was. "What? What are you wondering?"
"Well... it's not my place to criticize, but... your father... a demon prince, I mean he has to be someone really important."
"He is!"
"Yet he left you here."
"Of course! He is testing me, waiting for me to show my worthiness."
Sure he is. Demons didn't think like that. Daddy would either have taken the newly spawned hybrid baby with him, or come for him at puberty, when a kid's potential for magic and/or evil were strongest. Sorry, guy, you're just another by-blow.
A crazy, murderous one.
Keep him talking. "You grew up in that city, didn't you? Poor Arag, how terrible for you."
"They never knew what they scorned. They never understood what they thought merely mad. But they will weep. And then they will die."
The words would have been trite if they hadn't been said in such an utterly reasonable voice. "I am not one of them. What do you want with me?"
"Surely you should know. The people who infest the city now are weak, inferior. You are not of them, and you are not weak. You shall give me your life force."
Oops. Should have seen that coming.
No help from her partner. He wasn't going to-
The idea struck her with the force of a blow. You idiot! He can't, but you can!
"I am honored," Tallain said somberly. "Do you wish me now?"
Arag blinked. "You are... willing?"
"Willing to put an end to waiting," she said truthfully. "Shall it be now?"
Aha, she really had him stunned. Perfect. Either he'd forgotten he had sensed magic from Serein and her, or just wasn't registering it any longer with his mad mind.
"Let me do this properly," Tallain purred, and began taking off her clothes.
"What—"
"Oh, you wouldn't want this to be a less than perfect sacrifice."
Damn, she wasn't having such an easy time of it. How did those dancing girl types manage this? She was struggling with laces, hopping on one foot to get out of—
Good enough!
"Perfect," she repeated.
And lunged at him, shifting as she went: something with fangs, something with talons. Biting at him, clawing, forcing him off-balance.
Mustn't let him recover, mustn't let him get off a spell—
No! He had a demon's ridge of bone protecting his neck!
With a roar, Arag backhanded her against a wall. Tallain screamed as fire blazed over her. Shift, hurry, shift before the pain overwhelmed her—
Yes, something else, not sure what, but it gave her new strength and claws that raked Arag's side and—ow, broke against a demon's scales.
Has to be a vulnerable spot—
He had claws of his own, the retractable kind, and they dug deep into her side, pulling her to him.
There was the weak spot, there, right under his chin, no bone or scales there, but she couldn't reach—
Shift!
Just in time, because she heard teeth snap together where she'd just been. His fangs were rudimentary, but sharp enough to—
More fire! Tallain hastily continued the shift into something armored.
Can't keep this up! He's too fast, too damned strong. If Serein—
Serein! Inspired, Tallain threw herself at him. She willed strength into Serein, drawn from her life force. Really dangerous to weaken herself right now but hell, what was a little more peril?
Serein stirred, opened his eyes—and instantly understood, shifting into yellow hound once more. He sprang at Arag, darting in, darting out, and harr
ying him like a true hound after a bear. Tallain struggled into one last shift, ignoring her pounding heart and labored breathing.
Arag was shouting something harsh and ugly, and things demonic were shimmering in the corners—great, he was calling on his kin.
One crisis at a time. Serein leaped, fangs catching Arag by an ear and some hair. The hybrid shrieked, but his head was forced back for a crucial instant—
Tallain lunged, claws extended, and struck home.
As blood fountained over her, Tallain was thrown sideways by Arag's frenzy. She hit hard, said the hell with it, and stayed put. They'd either lost, and the demons would be forming, or they'd won, and either way there wasn't anything more she could do about it.
Shift, someone was insisting, mind to mind, shift! You're not dying on me, dammit!
That had to be Serein, and he wouldn't leave her alone until she did something about it. With one great effort that forced a gasp from her, Tallain shifted one more time.
And found herself in her right form, stark naked on a rooftop in Kansillaydra, with Serein, stark naked, with a supporting arm around her.
"Case closed," he said.
"Not quite. Going to be interesting to see how we beat the indecent exposure rap."
Serein burst into weary laughter, and after a moment, Tallain joined him. The two agents stood shivering but triumphant as the sun rose over Kansillaydra.
Pax Draconica
by Cate McBride
"Another day, another dragon, another damsel in distress..." Oops, that's not a damsel; that's a dragonslayer. On the other hand, "another day, another dragon, another kill" can get tiresome, too. But dragons are evil and destructive, so you have to kill them all, right? Well, maybe not...
Cate McBride has worked for the Canadian federal government in a variety of policy and program delivery positions for the past 22 years. She spent eighteen of those years working with Aboriginal communities, mainly in the Arctic, and her work has taken her all over the country: all twelve provinces and three territories. She currently lives in Ottawa, Canada's capital, with her young son Sean who has begun to make up his own bedtime stories. They share space with Big Blue the fish and a big black dog named Dingo who is terrified of kittens.
#
Dara Dragonslayer sighed as she slowed her roan gelding at the crossroads. Behind her lay Kingstown, where Ional waited patiently. Ahead lay yet another village ravaged by one of the Great Reds. Another dragon to slay.
Her worn leather armor crinkled and cracked as she dismounted to read the signs in the early morning light. The armor had been new only last year, but now it was charred, drier than field rations and smelled of sulphur thanks to the last five dragons she had killed for the King. Dara took off her helm and ran her fingers through her short brown hair, wincing as she touched the dried strands that had been bleached white by dragon fire.
After confirming that Innsbeck lay to the east, Dara turned to remount. The roan was skitterish and danced away from her. Dara caught a wiff of dragon stench and led the horse off to a small copse of trees near the east road. There was no use trying to ride to the village if the stench was that strong. She sighed again and wished that once, just once, a dragon would nest far enough away from its kill that she could ride to the rescue instead of arriving on foot, heavy dragon lances deadweight across her shoulders and feet sweating in her heavy riding boots.
The horse jumped and pulled back on the reins as they approached the trees. A small squeal rose from the grass below.
"Watch where you're stepping, you great ox!"
Dara dropped the reins and pulled her swords from the scabbards across her back. She looked down to see a small Gold dragon poking its head out of the long grass. She flicked her right sword forward and the beast dove back into the grass.
"Pax, Dragonslayer. I have been sent to parlay with you."
Dara snorted but cautiously lowered her blades. A request for Pax had to be respected, no matter who – or what – asked for it. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you now, before you grow big enough to kill entire villages."
The dragon moved slowly out of the grass, stopping just out of sword's reach. It sat up on its hind legs and sketched a low bow towards Dara, its undersized wings fluttering between its shoulder blades like flower petals. It should have looked ridiculous, since it only came to her knees, but the Gold's sinuous grace made the bow as elegant as that of a courtier.
"My kind does not grow big enough to ravage one of your human villages. We too have been attacked by the Great Reds and offer our services in helping you rid this land of those who break your laws."
Dara snorted again. "You're a dragon. I'm the Dragonslayer. Why would you want to help me?"
"Should all humans be punished because some are thieves and murderers? Or should those who would live in peace work together to protect each other? I have been sent to negotiate with you: our aid in ridding this Kingdom of the Great Reds who break the peace, in return for safe haven for those of dragonkind who pledge to your King."
Dara wanted to believe the little dragon. If it was telling the truth, this could be the change that allowed her to settle down with Ional. But if it was lying... She quickly made a decision.
"Prove it now, dragon. Help me destroy the Great Red that lies ahead and I will personally escort you to the King to negotiate your Pax."
"Grevel. My name is Grevel."
"Fine. Grevel, then. Do we have a deal?"
The little dragon nodded and dropped back to the grass. Dara heard her horse whinny and she whipped around to find Grevel curled around the saddle's pommel, oblivious to the fact that the roan was shaking in fear.
"If you mount quickly, it will calm the animal and we can be on our way."
Dara shrugged, sheathed her swords and pushed her helm back onto her head. After pulling the reins free of the bracken at the horse's feet, she mounted in one fluid motion. As soon as she felt the horse relax between her legs, she pulled slightly on the reins to turn it east towards Innsbeck, praying that the animal would stay calm long enough to get her a little closer to her goal.
"Go north," Grevel demanded.
"But the Great Red is east, near the remains of the village."
"Before we confront it, there is one with whom we must speak. Go north."
"You better not be leading me into a trap, dragon," Dara snapped back, but she followed the dragon's directions.
The roan calmed as they road up the northern road and the stench from the Great Red faded from the wind. They rode on in silence, Dara concentrating on keeping her horse relaxed and moving, until the land around them began to shift from fields to rocky outcrops.
"Turn left here," Grevel broke the silence as they approached a dirt path leading into the rocks.
She kneed the roan down the path which ended at a cliff-face riddled with small caves. A sandy clearing stretched from the end of the path to the cliff with a circle of low rocks in the centre. A Gold dragon perched atop each rock, expectantly facing the path. They were all at least three times the size of the little Gold, their wings full sized and folded elegantly across their backs.
Grevel flowed down the horse's side and moved toward the largest of the waiting dragons. It rose on its hind legs and bowed, deeper than it had to her, Dara noticed.
"The Dragonslayer as requested, Eldest," Grevel said, turning to beckon her without breaking its bow.
"Well done, little one, and well come, Dragonslayer. You do us great honor with your trust and we hope that you will find that trust well placed before this day is done." If its faded color was an indication, the Eldest was truly old. And big for a Gold, about the size of a small pony.
Dara shifted in the saddle, fighting the urge to draw her swords and attack. "And how will I find this out?"
"Fighting a Great Red alone, you risk injury or death, is this not so?"
Dara nodded in agreement. "A full company of trained soldiers was used before the war, when the Great Red
s were fewer. But now the King must divert all troops to the west and the number of Great Reds grows every year. Those of us trained in dragonslaying must work alone to deal with them all before too many villages and farms are lost."
"We too are prey to the Great Reds," the Eldest continued, "and while we can send more warriors than you to each battle, we are too small to succeed without many facing certain death. We are not so numerous that I would send my subjects on suicide missions."
Dara's eyes widened. The Golds must be serious if their King was willing to risk meeting with a dragonslayer in person.
"What do you propose?"
"Given the ravages of the Great Reds, we understand that you and your King will need proof of our sincerity before accepting our proposed arrangements. We will, therefore, help you defeat the Great Red who has destroyed the village south of here. You will then escort our emissary to your Kingstown to arrange a formal meeting between our two peoples to finalize the Pax."
"And how do you propose to defeat your murdering kinsman?" Dara was hard pressed to see how dragons small enough to be taken by hunting dogs could have any effect on a Great Red.
The Gold King turned to Grevel and nodded. "Explain your proposal, child."
Grevel moved to the fore and bowed once more towards Dara. "If you were to dismount, Dragonslayer, it might be easier for us discuss battleplans."
Dara smiled. "Dara. My name is Dara."
Grevel flipped back its wings in acknowledgement. "Very well, Dara. Your horse would be happier downwind, I think," and its tail pointed to some scrub on the left of the clearing near a stream and a pile of fodder. "Please see to the beast and join us."
It took several hours of discussion, with some arguing, to agree. Dara thought that Grevel's plan was too simplistic to work but in the end, the little Gold convinced her to take the chance. If it didn't work, she thought grimly, she could always handle the Great Red her usual way.
The other dragons had left the clearing after providing Dara with simple rations and water, but the dragon King relaxed on its rock, watching but saying nothing. When Dara finally nodded her agreement to the amended plan, the King sat up and bugled. In an instant, six dragons appeared in a semi-circle around Dara.
