Werner blinked and shook his head. The spell was weakening.
Jaron refocused his mind, moved closer to Werner, and once again tightened the net. The demon within him moved to the surface to lend extra strength.
“Why did the Dragumon leave Sendek?”
“One day Thule and the dragon lord Jenska flew to the royal city of Johar with a hundred dragons and their demonic spawn. The Dragumon stood on two legs, taller than any man, covered with scales and with faces like the dragons. The men of Johar rallied against them, killing the mage and the dragon Jenska. The other dragons and their spawn flew away. The sight of them terrorized the countryside, and the king’s scholars used that to their advantage, waging war against all things magical. It turned the kingdom toward scientific advancement instead. The king raised a great military to fight the dragons and the Signum were formed to help get rid of the mages.”
“How does one dispose of mages without magic?” Jaron’s mind reeled. He tried to imagine the wizards of his world fighting the men of science. Orek would have been ruined in the process.
“The first Signum counsel pitted the mages against each other by promising land and power to any mage that would work for them. It attracted those who were willing to hunt down and kill other mages. When only the greedy remained, the king threw a banquet to honor them, but it was a trap. In the end all the mages were wiped out.”
“How did the king kill the mages? They had magic on their side,” Jaron asked.
“The cooks mixed herbs in with the food that dulled their magical talents and slowed their reflexes. It was a simple matter for the Royalists, the king’s new military arm, to come in and slaughter them. But no one ever found a single Dragumon. We later learned that the Dragons opened a portal and sent them to another planet.”
“How do you know these things?”
“I have the ancient texts. I have everything that was ever written, before the world forgot all about the Dragumon.” Werner’s glazed eyes cleared as he blinked more frequently.
“And how have these texts come into your possession? How could they even survive for so many thousands of years?”
Jaron put the last of his strength into holding the spell, but he had grown weak and knew he was losing control. He reached forward and grabbed Werner in an effort to hold onto the connection.
“The King of Johar organized our group to take care of the mages. These mages worked for us, and before the Royalists killed them, we used them to gather knowledge. When the Royalists captured the great dragon lord, Thraned, our mages learned everything that I have told you, and much more. We kept careful records, and carefully tended and copied the records when necessary.”
“How has your group survived? It is unbelievable. What was your purpose once the last of the mages were killed?” So many questions cluttered Jaron’s mind that he could no longer contain his eagerness as he asked them.
“The Signum knew the Dragumon were out there somewhere. If the Dragumon ever found their way home, someone would need to be ready to destroy them. That is the power we have gained through the gathering of knowledge.”
“Yes. That is the power I want. Tell me how to destroy the Dragumon.” Jaron tried to calm his heart rate because the connection was slipping away.
“There is . . .” Werner blinked and Jaron cursed himself.
The spell dissolved and he was too exhausted to reestablish the connection. A groan escaped as he called on the demon for strength, but it laughed at him as it retreated to the back of his mind. His only option was to release Werner and hurry to his seat.
“I’m sorry. What were we talking about?” Werner’s brows drew together and he shook his head for a moment before frowning at Jaron.
“The Kiyan Bridge.”
“Ah, yes . . .”
Chapter 12
Upon arriving at the hospital for the second time that day, Landry walked to the front desk where the same bored receptionist sat. Her eyes lit up when she saw him.
“You’re back. Is there something else I can help you with?” Her smile suggested she was offering more than information.
“It seems you forgot to mention that Miss Zaryn was a patient here during her youth. How disappointing.”
She wilted beneath his tone. “But you only asked if she had been born here,” she turned away from his piercing eyes. “I didn’t know you needed her records.”
“Well, now I’m back and asking to see all the records and speak to the doctor that oversaw the case. I have already wasted enough time making this trip twice. I suggest you don’t waste any more of it.”
“Yes, sorry, sir.” She quickly brought up Talia’s records on her computer. “I’ll let Dr. Morin know that you are on your way up. He’s on the third floor, Room 305.”
“Thank you. I expect the files to be forwarded to my account by the time I reach his office.”
“But sir, patient confidentiality!” She stood at her desk, leaning over to keep Landry in sight as he walked around the corner.
“Does not apply during a security investigation. Feel free to log a complaint with Royalist headquarters after sending me the file.”
Landry continued to the elevators. He smiled, thinking about how nice it was to have authority. He knew she would never file the complaint; no one ever did.
Dr. Morin waited for him at the door of his office, out of breath as if he had just arrived in a hurry himself.
“Major Sutton, I apologize for any inconvenience you may have suffered today. Please come in and I will help you the best I can.” He opened the door and Landry walked in and took a seat.
“I’m sure you are as busy as I am so I’ll keep this brief. What medical condition did Talia Zaryn have? Why did she see you,” Landry pulled up the file on his hand-held computer so he could scan the summary, “for almost a year?”
“Nothing, really. We never found anything wrong with the child. As you can see, she came to the sleep clinic several nights a month. There should be video files attached as well.”
Landry opened a video file. The video showed a tiny girl, no more than one or two years old. She had soft golden curls framing her baby face. Her eyes seemed huge for her petite face, perhaps because she looked terrified as a technician hooked her up to a series of electrodes and wires. She lay perfectly still as she was placed in a glass observation box.
“Her mother claimed the child was having night terrors that caused her temperature to fluctuate and send her into seizures. We never saw or recorded any evidence of that. My final diagnosis was a croupy baby and an overprotective mother.”
Dr. Morin shrugged his shoulders.
“That’s it?” Landry deflated. He had hoped to find out more to explain how a child could be marked so different from everyone else. The only thing he had learned was she had violet eyes, and he could see that for himself.
“How did her parents die?”
“Donnelly Zaryn had the normal health problems associated with a man of his age, and he refused to slow down. One day he had a heart attack out in the protected lands. I believe the daughter actually found him. She was only sixteen at the time.
“Helen, the mother, seemed to fade after her husband’s death and she developed respiratory problems. She could have survived the illness if she had let me do the lung replacement.”
He leaned back and closed his eyes a moment. “I will never forget the daughter’s face when Helen died. She was utterly lost. Luckily, her brother came to get her the next day.”
“Why were their deaths not recorded? This slip in procedure led to an offense that was unnecessary.”
Landry could not bring himself to admit how he had used it to accuse Talia.
“I don’t know. We have records of their deaths in the paper files, but it seems the clerk never scanned them into the online database. I promise you that will be taken care of today, Major Sutton.”
The sound of screams filled the air. A man sat across from Talia in an aeroflyer with heavily tinted
windows. Through the course of her dreams, she had met many people but could not remember meeting this particular man.
“Who are you?” She glanced at him and then peered through the windows, trying to see which part of the city they were in.
“Lynel Geofrey. We’re going to die, aren’t we?” The man barely whispered, making it hard for Talia to hear him over the screaming outside the vehicle.
The aeroflyer rested on the ground, slightly tilted, and Talia gripped the seat to keep from sliding out. The sky was a dusky gray and stars fell to the ground throughout the city.
Wherever they fell, smoke rose and people died. People ran to escape with their children and possessions. Some tried to get into aeroflyers, but those who succeeded became grid-locked before take-off.
As Talia looked through the sky window, she saw thousands of aeroflyers bumping into each other as they tried to escape.
There was a new sound and Talia and Lynel looked down the south end of the street. They could hear a low buzzing followed by short high-pitched bursts. Just the sound made Talia’s heart race, and then she saw the streaks of red light flying through the crowd. Each time the light found a target, someone exploded into a fiery ball.
Lynel’s eyes grew huge at the sight of the Dragumon clearing the street before them. Before she could stop him, he reached out, opened the door and hit the ground running. Talia didn’t want to watch him die, but she looked away too late.
Once all the people on the ground were dead, the Dragumon turned their attention to the sky. As they shot down aeroflyers, some broke free and escaped, but the falling wreckage brought down just as many tansports as the plasma beams. Fires spread as the wreckage crashed into the buildings.
The ground rumbled and Talia ducked for cover.
Paralyzed by fear, she waited alone inside the aeroflyer. She was always alone in the end.
Wake up!
Once all life on the street had been wiped out, the Dragumon turned to her hiding place, and smiled. They knew where she hid. They had been searching for her all along.
Why? Why me?
Her resolution to wait out the dream shattered. Even though she knew it was futile, her survival instinct kicked in and she slid through the open door and ran.
The Dragumon aimed and fired, and in the way that only dreams allow, Talia floated above the scene and watched herself burst into red and orange flames before melting into nothing.
Stifling a scream, she sat up in bed. Perspiration soaked her clothing and she shivered uncontrollably. Keeta’s head popped up from his nest of blankets at the foot of her bed. The fur along his neck stood on end, and his bulging eyes swiveled around the room as if to clear it of danger. The fur relaxed as he padded his way over her legs. Talia extended her arm so he could climb up to her shoulder and lick the tears that streamed down her face.
She hadn’t cried after a dream in years because she knew how useless it was, but Major Sutton’s words had shaken her. He had stripped away what had comforted her, the things that held her together, and left her naked with the fear.
I’m cursed. That’s the only explanation for these dreams.
She almost wished the creatures would find her and get it over with. Just thinking of giving in sparked the fire deep in Talia’s soul. Even if there was relief in death, she didn’t want to die. She never had.
Talia leaned back into her pillows with a sigh.
“I haven’t really lived since Roan died, have I?”
Keeta trilled at her soothingly and curled up on her chest. She placed her hand over his small body to feel him breathe. Dreams tainted her life, but what did normal people hope and dream? What would it feel like to spend time with someone outside of the office; to know someone loved her?
“Poor Keeta, it’s not that I don’t appreciate you, but it would be nice to have someone that could talk back to me.”
Keeta fanned his tail out at the mention of his name. It had been so long since her family died that she couldn’t remember what human love felt like any more. All she had was this tiny warm body that loved her because his very life depended on her.
Trust, joy, laughter, security among people were gone from her memory.
Talia needed to remember. To feel something other than pain and fear. She scooped Keeta up in her hand and set him on the pillow beside her and then retrieved her first dream journal.
Her mother had started this journal before Talia could speak and she never traveled without it. She climbed back under the blanket and opened the first page while Keeta softly snored. Just the sight of her mother’s small and sometimes jumbled handwriting started the tears anew. She waited until she could focus to read even though she knew it by heart.
My dearest Talia,
You’re a little more than a year old now and the best baby I’ve ever seen, during the day. You are calm, even-tempered, and very curious. I can’t keep you in the house! If I turn around for a minute, you’re out the door and in the forest.
At night, you have these episodes, not every night, but five or six times a month, less often when we’re lucky.
At first, we thought it was something the doctors called night terrors, but I don’t think that any more. Nightmares would not bring on fever and chills. And sometimes there are cuts and blisters.
Oh my sweet baby! I hate to see you hurting. The doctors aren’t trying anymore, but they don’t have to hold you at night while you scream and writhe in pain. They don’t feel your tiny body trembling as it burns with fever and then shakes with the chills. I want to make it better, but I don’t know how.
Love, your mom.
But she had helped.
Talia let her mind drift over the memories of sitting under the trees in the moonslight together. She would describe the dreams and her mom would write.
Helen had learned that taking Talia outside after a dream helped calm her down faster than anything else. Talia’s dad thought it was the way the moonslight filtered through the trees. He was right in a way, but her parents never knew the extent of it. Sadness pricked her as she thought of the secrets she had kept from her loved ones.
Will I ever share those secrets? A shudder ran through her as she thought of the consequences it could bring. She could never share them.
Sighing, Talia closed the journal and reached for her current notebook and pen from the table drawer. She wrote the date and the time, wishing her mother was there to write for her.
Chapter 13
After learning all he could about Talia in her hometown,
Landry visited the university she had attended and the main SEF offices. He learned how dedicated she was to her work, to the exclusion of a social life.
Her peers and mentors respected her but lacked a personal connection with her. It all added up to one thing; she was a prime candidate for the Signum. They sought out the lonely, the abandoned, the orphaned, and the outcast.
Many of her peers spoke of how lost she became after her brother died in a botched shuttle re-entry. Landry knew that after such traumatic experiences people needed something to hold on to in order to keep living.
Talia had found her driving force quickly after Roan’s death. It pushed her into exploring space and the technologies needed to get there faster and more safely. Her dedication earned her an early graduation; it was easy to understand President Cahal’s reference to her as a prodigy.
Something drove her to excel and specialize in her field, and it was Landry’s job to discover what that might be. If the Signum had approached and recruited her years ago, she would be a formidable adversary. He remembered how calm and cool she’d been during the presentation. If she continued to close off her feelings as easily as that first day, how would he discover her motivations?
She had allowed her emotions to break free when she was angry. Maybe he just needed to aggravate her more. In the meantime, he’d have her watched.
“Computer, send a message to Lieutenant Terrell. Begin: Set up surveillance on one Talia Zar
yn, SEF, Joharadin. Major Sutton. End.”
“Message processed and sent.” The computer voice sounded softly feminine.
“Computer, send a message to Talia Zaryn, SEF offices on the University of Joharadin campus. Begin: Miss Zaryn, I have confirmed your family status and wish to apologize for my rudeness. Would you allow me the honor of taking you to lunch next week to make up for the one I ruined? Thank you, Major Sutton. End.”
“Message processed and sent.”
Morning brought the sunsrise, but no relief from the nightmares. Physically tired and an emotional mess, Talia considered sneaking up to the little garden on the roof again, but she couldn’t risk it. Instead, she carefully treated the blistered skin and applied make-up to the areas of her face she couldn’t fully heal.
She opened her computer and found a brief message from Major Sutton. It was simple enough, polite enough, but for some reason it made Talia bristle. His voice sounded confident and matter of fact, as if he thought lunch would be enough to make her forgive his earlier rudeness.
Although he sounded arrogant, Talia admitted to herself that she had overreacted. Major Sutton was simply doing his job. That was all.
The fear and insecurity that she normally kept buried, now waited close to the surface. She had started falling apart the day she arrived in the city; blaming Major Sutton was easier than focusing on the real problem.
She was living in the city where she would die.
After years of searching for life beyond Sendek, she had nothing to show which direction the attack would come from. There were no clues of how to protect herself or anyone else from the Dragumon’s attack. Knowing her time grew short made her jumpy and irritated.
Keeta purred around her feet.
“As a military leader, he should be preparing for the invasion, not wasting his time looking into my past.”
Keeta trilled and Talia picked him up to nuzzle his flat little face. He smelled like tree sap and crushed leaves.
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