“Don’t do it.”
Starling’s hand closed over mine on the staff and I started, surprised to see her there.
“Here, let me hold this for you, Gwynn. It’s okay. I take care of things for you, remember?”
What did she mean? Of course I knew that! The savage desire for Walt’s death fell away and I put an unsteady hand to my temple. “Whoa—that was intense.”
Starling just nodded at me, somber.
“See? You ended up having a job after all. And tell you what, hang on to that thing for me, will you?”
She laid it over her shoulder, carrying it like a stick with a basket of apples on the end, and nodded her head toward Darling. “You might want to take care of that.”
Darling, bored, was swatting Walt from paw to paw, a human cat toy. I gathered my skirts, jumped down from the pedestal and ran toward him. “Darling—no! Bad kitty. Stop that this instant or you don’t get a new name.”
Chagrined that I hadn’t done it sooner, I poofed the spell, returning Darling to his normal size. Walt lay in a sobbing heap and Darling gave him one last swat, prancing up to me. “Gigantor,” he suggested.
“I am so not calling you Gigantor.”
Starling stifled a giggle and Athena glared at her. “I think he should have whatever name he wants.”
“I’m sure you think that, Athena,” Starling snapped back.
“Athena,” I hastily interrupted their sniping, “hold the staff, please. Starling, check on Walt. See if he’s suffered any...permanent damage.”
Darling swirled himself around my ankles. “Titanous.”
I rolled my eyes. “No.”
“He seems to be okay,” Starling reported. Walt had buried his face in her lap, sobbing into her skirts while she patted his head awkwardly.
“An odd choice, Lady Sorceress Gwynn.” The fae noble peered at Walt. Blackbird, standing just behind him, had a funny look on her face. As if she felt ill.
“But my choice to make.”
“He could be dangerous to you.”
“I don’t think so. Athena, I’m going to touch the staff for a moment, if you’ll hold it out for me.”
“I don’t think—” Starling started.
“If I act weird, just move it out of my reach.”
Athena balanced the staff, over twice her height, so I could just touch it and she could easily pivot it out from under my hand. I touched the globe with tentative fingers and looked at Walt. Away from the blazing light of the multiply magicked Darling, his native magic shone with dim light. He had some, but not a lot. The globe felt good under my hand. Too good. I recalled the way Walt had stroked it, an almost obscene lust.
I shook my head and turned to the fae noble. “I’m not concerned about ol’ Walter, here. And you are?”
Blackbird, a warning in her eyes I couldn’t interpret, stepped forward. “Lady Sorceress Gwynn, may I present General Fafnir.”
He swept a bow. A light pattern of gray drifted over the right side of his face, like snowflakes. Or scales. His close-cropped hair echoed the color, giving him the look of an aged and grizzled soldier—unusual among his ageless kind.
My vision filled with a red haze of rage and the cat deep inside snarled. I reached for the staff and Athena danced back out of reach. Never mind. I didn’t need it. Fafnir blanched and Blackbird’s robin-dark eyes flew open in panic.
I took a step, fingers curving into claws, and Darling tripped me. Then Starling was slipping an arm around my waist, fake laughing. “Oops, Lady Gwynn! Watch your step there. What is wrong with you?” she hissed in my ear.
“That darn cat.” I tried to smile, but my face felt stiff. Fafnir. Right in front of me. He gave me a cautious and curious look. I strained to wrestle the cat down and she fought me, hungry for this death. With enormous effort, I managed to contain her, and lock her in the cage of my heart.
“Perhaps we should take the wizard into custody—” Blackbird stepped in with smooth politesse, “—and give Lady Sorceress Gwynn an opportunity to rest from her great and terrible duel.”
“Of course.” Fafnir took my hand and bowed over it. I flinched, expecting his touch to be cold and scaly. He seemed not to notice, though he watched me closely. Undoubtedly sensing something. “How thoughtless of me. Still, I would like to discuss this proposition with you. And be sure to sentence the wizard appropriately—justice must be seen to.”
“How about tonight?” Blackbird folded her hands, looking expectantly between us. “We shall have a victory feast, sentence Walter and you two can discuss then!”
I glared at her and she smiled sweetly, with steely determination beneath. The last thing in the world I needed—another fucking feast. And this one with a creature that made my stomach turn. Darling meowed up at me, lashing his tail. “Colossus.”
A snort escaped me and I picked him up so he could head-butt my chin.
“A brave and daring Familiar you have there, Lady Gwynn,” Fafnir observed, then waved a gracious hand to include Blackbird, Athena and Starling. “Along with all your stalwart companions. I look forward to spending more time with all of you this evening.”
He strode off, fae peeling away at his gesture to swarm around Walter, bundling him up to carry him to await his fate. I felt unutterably weary that it would again fall on me to make that call.
“Just confine him to his rooms,” I called out. “Until we decide what to do with him.”
“What is going on?” Starling demanded. Blackbird looked pained. “You asked me about Fafnir before and now you’re acting strange.”
Athena twirled her dagger through nimble fingers, holding the staff in her other hand, her face impassive.
The adrenaline and emotion from the fight were receding, leaving me drained. That, coming face-to-face with a monster and thinking about how to deal with Walter all combined to overwhelm me. Exhaustion stole my thoughts. I felt like a shell of myself.
“Leviathan,” Darling suggested.
“Can we talk about this later?” I asked, my voice sounding plaintive to my own ears. The breeze had turned into a cutting wind, and dark clouds gathered darker overhead. Apparently the distant thunder had been more than surf. “Having a bit of rest sounds really good at the moment.”
Thankfully they dropped the subject, Blackbird assigning her daughter a number of tasks designed to keep her distracted and busy. She wouldn’t meet my eye, so she knew something about Fafnir for sure.
We got back to the rooms, everyone agreeing that a late lunch and a nap would be just the thing. With her easy authority, Blackbird arranged for real food, which we devoured. The wind truly howled outside, whipping the sea into a frenzy. I bolted the shutters, grateful for the warm fire now crackling away in the little fireplace. At least our quality of life had improved considerably. I lay down, Darling leaping up to nestle against me. “Gigantor.” The name echoed in my head as I crashed into a dark and dreamless sleep.
* * *
The clatter of the shutters woke me with a start. Disoriented, I gazed blankly at the room, trying to remember where I was. For a moment I’d thought I was in my own bed, Isabel sleeping at my feet and I was my old self.
But no.
I heard soft snores from the other room and Darling half opened one lazy eye, then closed it again. Serendipitous if everyone was asleep, because I had an errand to run and I really didn’t want to have conversations yet. Picking up my boots, I padded barefoot across the floor and slipped out into the hallway.
The place was such a maze that I wasn’t sure I could find my way on my own, but it was worth a shot. Could I wish myself into knowing the route? I sat down on a stone step and pulled on my boots, lacing them up while I thought. The magic part of me still felt tired—though nothing like the time I’d pulled lightning. I’d probably used way more effort to zap Darling into Gigantor mode than necessary, but I’d wanted no mistakes. Dealing with my feline animus, too, seemed to strain my resources in some odd way. Something to experiment with.
For now I needed a guide. Maybe I could wish up a little map that showed me where to go and that wouldn’t drain me much more.
A gremlin popped its head over the edge of the next stair, making me jump. It chittered at me. Still no content. But Walter had communicated with them somehow.
“Can you take me to the dragons?”
It danced a little in place, then took off running down the steps and around the bend. Assuming that to be a yes, I followed. It came back into view, chattered and ran off again.
“Okay, Lassie,” I called after it, “I’m following you.”
With this method, it led me down, deep into the sublevels of the castle. I probably could have found the dragons myself, just by following the increasing heat. Brought a whole new meaning to the warmer/colder game.
Down below seemed to be a network of giant caverns similar to Walter’s throne room. The gremlin, with a long, chittered explanation that still gave me nothing, pointed the way deeper in, then fled, climbing up a pillar and skittering across the ceiling. The floor heated my feet through the ankle boots, so I sympathized with the barefooted gremlin’s plight. Although after that chilly wind in the arena today, the warmth felt pretty damn good to me.
I made my way cautiously through the shadowed cavern. Not like I’d trip over a dragon or anything, but I wasn’t at all sure of my welcome. Probably risking my fate to a dragon’s mood wasn’t the smartest move in my magic-depleted condition, but hey—opportunity had knocked and I didn’t plan to stay in Walt’s labyrinth of a castle beyond tomorrow morning. All I needed was a ride home. Oh, and magic wouldn’t work on it anyway. Onward.
I heard the dragon before I saw it. The chain rattle of dry scales over stones made the angel hairs on the back of my neck stand up. There was an atavistic fear in confronting a giant reptile. Snakes and crocodiles and dragons should never be big enough to swallow one whole.
This one could do it without noticing.
It glittered even in the shadows, jewel tones catching some kind of otherworldly glow, shining like phosphorescence in a cave. An amber light spotlighted me, as if a great round window had opened. It took a moment for my mind to assimilate that the dragon’s eye had opened, gazing at me with its own self-created light.
It took longer than that to persuade my frantic nervous system that fight or flight were not the only two options.
The dragon groaned a little, shifting into a more comfortable position, just as Darling would, enjoying a snug spot in the covers. The dragon lifted a taloned foreleg and shifted back a little more, showing me its belly in obvious invitation.
Either that or the enticement to get close enough to be easily munched.
Following my instinct—besides, who was I kidding? It could have gobbled me up any time it wanted to—I stepped close and scratched the tender and surprisingly soft scales. The dragon rumbled, sounding close to a purr. Using both hands, I redoubled my efforts and the lily earrings fell off, dropping to the floor.
“Dammit,” I muttered, annoyed with myself for forgetting.
I felt around on the shadowed floor, then got on my knees in the hopes of seeing better. The dragon shifted, nuzzling my head with scorching hot breath and the amber light of its gaze illuminated the area. Snatching up the earrings, I tucked them in my pocket. The dragon’s great snout followed my movement, then lingered over my hip, snuffling at my pocket.
Oh.
With a bit of trepidation, I pulled out the dragon’s egg I’d taken to carrying in my pocket all the time. The amber light brightened and the dragon hummed a delighted sound. I held out the egg on the palm of my hand and the dragon’s long tongue—dark purple and forked at the end—flicked out to lick it. Then wrapped around it and plucked it from my palm, setting it very carefully in the crook of its elbow.
“Well, I supposed that’s fair,” I told it. “My gift to you. If that even counts since it was likely stolen from your kind to begin with.”
The dragon nuzzled my pocket again. This one might not go over as well. I pulled out the vial of dragon’s blood though, and held it out for inspection. It sniffed, tasted and harrumphed in what I could swear was the dragon’s version of a laugh. Pushing its snout against my hand, it indicated I should put the vial away again.
The tacit blessing pleased and relieved me. Though I would have given it that too. In that moment, I understood something more about the nature of worship. The creature so awed me that I wanted to give it anything at all. I wished I’d pocketed one or two of those poisonous apples from the orchard at Castle Brightness.
“Well, I’ll leave you be.” I scratched the itchy spot once more and the eye half closed in pleasure. “I just wanted to meet you. Pay my respects, that kind of thing.”
The dragon nuzzled the egg and hummed happily.
“You’re welcome.” I hesitated. “Um. This feels forward and I know you have better things to do that cart people about, but if you’re available to give us a lift back in the morning, that would be really great.”
The dragon’s tongue flicked out to brush my cheek, the barest kiss of heat. Somehow I couldn’t quite envision Walt having the patience for this kind of conversation. Maybe I was wrong, since he’d clearly established some kind of connection.
“Okay. Well, see you in the morning, if that works out for you.”
In the darkness beyond, I heard more rustling. Scales and leathery wings. More spotlights shone in the deep caverns as sets of amber and gold eyes opened, lighthouses in the distance. Despite the heat, I shivered a little at the sight.
Here there be dragons.
* * *
I made my way back to the rooms feeling curiously restored by the encounter. The gang, however, was none too pleased by my solo excursion. Especially when I ducked telling them where I’d gone. For some reason the encounter felt special enough that I just wanted to hug it to myself for a while longer. Sometimes it seemed that telling someone else about an extraordinary event took the life and color out of it. I couldn’t explain to myself my sense of awe and peace from being near the dragons.
Maybe I was just happy that something in this world had more power than Titania, for surely their magic-cancellation trumped anything of hers. Maybe that was just wishful thinking.
Fortunately Blackbird had arranged for me to interview Walter before the feast, so that he could be appropriately sentenced in front of everyone. That reminded me uncomfortably of my own sentencing banquet, which Blackbird likely understood—in particular that I would want to save Walter some of that anguish. This schedule had the added side benefit of thwarting Starling’s efforts to dig hints about Fafnir out of me. She settled for giving me a doe-eyed look as Blackbird whisked me away.
Blackbird apparently knew where to find Walter, because no gremlins showed up to escort us. “Let’s get this out of the way,” she said, walking briskly enough that I had to step up my pace. “Yes, Lord Fafnir has been another player in this...scenario. I suspect you know something more of it and, worse, that there’s something you’re not telling me or Starling because you fear knowing it will create a wound too deep to be healed.”
She smiled, tight-lipped, at my surprise.
“I am not without my own gifts, Lady Gwynn.” She tapped her temple. “Understanding people’s motivations goes a long way toward keeping them organized and happy.”
It explained a great deal.
“I’ve told Starling to leave you alone about it, but I don’t know that she will. Stubborn child.” The exasperated affection in her voice touched me.
“She’s no longer a child, Blackbird.”
“No.” She shook her head at herself. “But neither is she a woman-grown yet. I worry that what lies ahead for her will be painful.”
“A philosopher where I come from said ‘that which does not kill me makes me stronger.’”
Blackbird stopped and faced me. “Wise. And yet—of little comfort to a mother with a mortal child. That’s not an easy thing to shoulder.”
“The
man who said that came from a world where all children are mortal, as was he.”
She tipped her head a little. “Fair enough. I won’t send her home. I considered asking you to do it, as a special favor.”
“I can’t. I promised.”
“Fair enough,” she repeated, more to herself. “As far as Fafnir goes—he remembers no more than I do. I feel quite sure of that. Your rage for whatever role he played is clear to me, so I won’t ask you to go easy on him, either. Just...”
“I get what you’re saying.”
“But will keep your own counsel.” She dusted off her hands and resumed her brisk march. “Just in this next tower here.”
“No advice on handling Walter?”
She shook her head, completely neutral. “You, more than any other, know what he has faced in this world as opposed to your own. The laws you both understand likely will serve both of you best. I doubt he could face a more fitting judge.”
“In our world, the person he offended would never be in a position to pass judgment.” Mostly. Except maybe in politics. And the military. Reality TV shows too. “Never mind.”
“Would you have Fafnir and the others pass sentence? You know what they would likely choose for him.” A bristling squad of spear-laden gremlins guarded a pair of iron-braced wooden doors, stacked up an arm’s length deep. I raised an eyebrow at Blackbird who looked amused. “Not my idea.”
They parted for us, a spiky green sea, pulling the doors open as they did. Blackbird fell back, making me precede her into the rooms. Walter, wearing a silver collar and cuffs, sat in a mournful pile in a leather recliner. A platter of the same snack food he’d given us sat next to him and he drank from a hose attached to a silver samovar of yet more hot chocolate.
He glared at me. “You totally cheated.”
I lifted my shoulders in a little mea culpa shrug. “I like to see it as thinking outside the box.”
“I always hated that phrase. Success mumbo jumbo.”
I realized he’d shifted into American English. “Yeah. What are we going to do with you, Walter?”
Rogue’s Possession Page 24
