by Aaron Crash
Either way, they were coming after him, and it was time to get the fuck out of there. He’d thrown the book to Tessa. And what had Sabina said? That the Trinity of Death would be the death of them. Or something like that. They’d given it a shot, but these three—especially with their army of reinforcements—were out of their league. At least for the time being. Sooner or later, Steven was going to put these three down like rabid dogs, but today wasn’t going to be that day.
Aria dive-bombed, harrying the other females—claws flashing, teeth gnashing. “Steven, fall back! Get the others and go!”
Yeah, like that was going to happen. He might retreat, but he wasn’t about to leave one of his own behind. Not a snowball’s chance in hell. Big Green took off to kill Aria, but Steven dropped down from above—exploiting her blind spot—and smacked his tail into her one remaining eye. By that time, Aria had clawed up Dark Purple, and Crystal had gotten a taste of Aria’s lightning to boot.
The Trinity would be up and swinging in no time, but the play had bought them precious seconds. Aria and Steven raced upward—
Only to find Mouse falling. She was still in her True Form, her leathery wings fluttering uselessly as she plunged. Aria couldn’t catch her—too small—but Steven could.
He threw every bit of muscle he had into his wings, his shoulders and back burning under the strain. With his DarkArmor and Mouse’s weight, he’d need the momentum. Lucky she was so slight.
He caught her and then rose up onto the balcony with a heave of sheer will—
Only to come smashing down on a Dragonskin. He crushed him under his feet, and fresh Animus filled Steven.
Tessa’s ammo belt was nearly empty. She fired at a grinning Dragonskin and missed. The guy wasn’t grinning for long. Aria clawed him in half. His entrails slopped across the already bloody floor.
“We’re leaving! Now!” Steven thundered. They had the book. It had been an hour. Liam would be there to open a portal to bring them home.
Sabina’s eyes were twin suns of emerald flame. “Magica Incanto!” she shrieked, hands outthrust toward the bookcases below. The shelves exploded outward in a rain of paper and wood. The blind woman had shattered at least a portion of the impossible library with her magic. A hole appeared there, big enough for them all to fit through as long as they weren’t dragons.
Sabina slumped, blind once more, clearly exhausted from her magical exertion.
“Magica Cura,” Steven whispered, healing Mouse. Her eyes flashed open.
A thunderous roar shook the air, and a glance over one shoulder revealed the Trinity of Death up and careening straight toward them. Shit! But so long as they could get to Liam’s portal, they’d be okay. They just needed to get back to Wyoming, power up, and consult the third volume, and then they could show the Trinity of Death what death really meant. But on Steven’s terms.
Steven picked up Sabina and the coffer of plundered coins. Mouse picked up Tessa. And then, almost as one, they bolted for the impromptu door Sabina had blasted through the wall. The hole wasn’t big enough to accommodate their True Forms, so they slipped through one at a time, all very human. Aria went first, followed in quick succession by Mouse and Tessa. As the barista turned spellslinger went through, she screamed like a banshee.
“Holy shit!” Tessa wailed.
Steven darted through behind her with Sabina in tow. He found himself in free fall, a thousand feet in midair. Wind and rain whipped at him. The air screamed in his ears.
With a trickle of Animus, Steven shifted back. He caught Tessa in one claw and held Sabina in another.
They flew over the island. The sea had dropped twenty-five feet easily, and large sections of beach were now exposed. And so were the brutalized corpses from the battle against the false priests.
A hollow boom, like the report of a Howitzer, filled the air. Steven glanced behind him and saw the three dragons emerge through the hole, which was now significantly bigger.
Tessa twisted in his claws. She pointed. “Liam has the portal open. Hurry!”
Steven was weighed down by his armor, the two Magicians, and the chest of coins—an awkward load to be sure. Aria and Mouse were much faster. There, on the field, was a dark circle standing in the middle of the greenery. Of course it was dark. It was still night in Wyoming.
Aria and Mouse landed, turned human, and sped through the circle.
Steven dropped the coffer and his Magicians to the ground. Tessa grabbed Sabina’s hand and hauled her toward the round doorway of fire and smoke, moving as fast as she could given the circumstances. Steven shifted, scooped up the chest, and stumbled after them. The girls were less than five feet away from the portal—away from the safety of the Wyoming plains—when the circle snapped shut. Bam! Gone! All in the blink of an eye.
Steven turned. A lump formed in his throat and traveled down to the pit of his stomach.
The three female dragons were hauling ass, and almost on them. Rain pelted their leathery wings and thick scales. They were healed up and ready for another round.
Mouse and Aria had made it to safety. That was something, he reminded himself while his mind raced, searching for something, anything, they could do.
“At least it’s three against three,” Tessa said grimly.
“More like two and a half against three,” Sabina griped. “I can’t see shit.”
Steven let out a sigh. Shit. How were they going to get out of this one?
Then he smiled. It was a long shot, but they might just have an ace in the hole …
TWELVE
A last wave of rain splashed down on Steven, Tessa, and Sabina before subsiding. The three female dragons shot down from Mont-Saint-Michel and the inverted pyramid shape of the hidden library. Now that they could see Rahaab’s secret Aerie, the island had become an odd hour-glass structure joined by the steeple.
Steven wheeled on the barista. “Tessa, kiss Sabina. Kiss her with everything you’ve got. Our very lives depend on it.”
“No pressure. So that’s good,” Tessa said nervously. She pulled the blind woman to her.
Steven snatched the third volume out of the satchel and whipped it open. The grimoire was a weather-beaten thing, the vellum soft, the leather cracked. Aged papers, yellow and stiff, had been stuffed into the book. He found the diagrams for portals, histories of dragons, and then a skill tree that had not one but two dragon heads. Above the image, in flowing script, were the words Path of the Mirror-Souled Dragon. It was like what Sabina had prophesized.
No time to really study it. He needed portal magic like fifteen minutes ago. But not him. Sabina. She was their most powerful Magician by far. Hastily, he flipped through the dusty tome until he found a section of pages discussing Porta spells and their many applications. A piece of parchment came loose. There was a complicated drawing on it.
Tessa had Sabina moaning, writhing against her body despite the craziness going on all around them. The two were wrapped in an embrace, their mouths locked. It wouldn’t be a ton of Animus, but it would be some. Hopefully, enough. “Sabina, I need you to work a portal spell. Get us out of here. Anywhere. Tessa, help her!” He thrust the open book into her hands.
Sabina gasped “¡Madre de Dios!”
Steven morphed into his Homo Draconis form. He found an old length of wood, half buried in the field. With his talons he shredded the board, flung it down, then lit it up like a torch with his Inferno breath. He really turned on the juice to get it smoking. The stink of the wet wood—a dark, mossy smell—filled the air, but so too did dancing tongues of orange flame.
Tessa let out a yelp of glee. “Here”—Tessa plucked the mysterious piece of parchment out of the book—“this one is like the one we used to pull Mathaal in. Only I think it can get us out!”
“Do it!” Steven transformed, donning his human form in a beat. He scooped up his jeans and T-shirt, since there was literally no telling where they might end up. Then, he wrenched a revolver out of Tessa’s holster. He snapped open the cylinder, m
ade sure there were bullets, and snapped it closed. Steven stood next to the coffer of coins. He placed the butt of the gun on his left palm while gripping it with his right. He had to give his Magicians time to work the magic.
“Sabina,” Tessa said, “I can cast the spell, but I need your help.”
“I think I know,” Sabina muttered. “It’s coming back to me. I saw us do this. Or dreamed it.”
Hopefully they could figure it out fast as hell, because the Trinity of Death were finally upon them …
Big Green darted forward like the Grim Reaper with a score to settle. When she opened her maw, a blinding light filled her throat. The air grew tense and a weird silence took over … she was going to hit them with ChromaticFury.
“Magica Defensio.” Steven put the shield spell in front of them. It most likely wouldn’t stop her ultimate Exhalant, but it was worth a try.
“Magica Porta!” Sabina called out. The parchment she was holding burst into flames and turned to ash. The blind woman was holding Tessa’s hand, and the pair stood in front of the smoky fire. Both women reached forward and worked their free hands together into a rough “O”; before them, a circle took shape in the smoke and fire. It wasn’t night on the other side, but a cloudy day. No time to question where they’d end up.
Steven fired six shots, emptying the gun at the oncoming Dragonsoul. Pink-tinged flashes of light streaked toward Big Green. One round struck her side, but she dodged the rest with uncanny ease and grace. Something that big shouldn’t have been able to move so fucking fast and gracefully. Still, the shots made her pause for just a second.
And a second—a heartbeat—was all the time they needed.
Tessa shoved Sabina through the portal. The barista followed hard on her heels.
Big Green struck with her hellish attack: ChromaticFury. Fire, cold, poisonous gas, darkness, and death shot toward them in a beam of twisted rainbow light shot through with streaks of silver. It hit Steven’s shield and ate away the edges until nothing was left.
But by the time it had finished demolishing Steven’s shield, he had the coffer and was leaping through the portal. The circular doorway of fire vanished in a shower of sparks, and not a moment too soon.
Sparks landed on Steven’s bare shoulders, but an ocean wave put out the fire and instantly eased the burns.
The surf rolled in again. He was knocked back onto mud. The water was only a couple of feet deep, less than that when the tide drew back.
The sky above was gray, the water cold, and some kind of stone fortress lingered in the distance. The spire of a church reached up to the heavens. Not a fortress, Steven realized after a moment—a walled city. A black wall stood over the long white beach in front of it. Where they still on Earth? The sand in front of the ramparts seemed empty … No, wait. He paused and squinted. There were people there, on blankets, children playing. Maybe a half-mile away.
Tessa held Sabina to her as another wave hit them, ocean spray kicking up in a cool cloud. Steven slipped on his T-shirt and got his wet pants on. With that done, he took up Sabina in his arms, then lumbered over to the coffer and pulled it from the surf with one hand. Thanks to his Drokharis blood, he was strong enough to carry both woman and chest—even in his human form.
Tessa took her revolver back and put it in her holster. She held the leather satchel aloft so the books inside weren’t ruined.
Another wave sloshed into them.
“Uh, do we have any idea where we are?” she asked, glancing around, one eyebrow cocked.
“You cast the spell. I was hoping you’d know.”
“Sabina did most of the work.” Tessa let out a long breath. “That kiss was a good idea. But I’m nearly done. I feel like a Ford Pinto without any gas. Like, no gas. And a Pinto. Did I mention that part?”
“When did you have a Pinto?”
“Not mine. A boyfriend’s. Eddie. He was a douchebag. A douchebag with a terrible car.”
Steven grinned. “Well, good thing Eddie isn’t around. I’d kick his ass.” He touched Sabina’s face and whispered, “Magica Cura.”
Her eyes blinked open. White, no pupils. She closed them and was out again.
“I don’t think she’s hurt per se,” Tessa offered, glancing at the woman. “It’s more like she pushed herself too far. We’ll have to carry her. And when I say ‘we,’ I mean ‘you.’”
Tessa stopped and took off her gun belt and stuffed it into her satchel, which was overflowing thanks to the addition of the new grimoire. Yet they couldn’t very well walk around with her guns showing. Not unless they were in Texas, and last time he checked Texas didn’t have any ancient walled cities.
They slogged their way through the water and up onto the beach. They seemed to still be on Earth, so at least there was that. Above the stone walls, modern cars drove through normal streets and stopped at stoplights. Another good sign.
Families gave the odd threesome long, worried looks. A woman stood topless. Okay, they weren’t in America. That was clear.
Then a three-year-old boy said something in what sounded like French.
An older man came up to them. He was in a speedo, which embarrassed them all. He started off in French, saw their mystified looks, and switched to English. “Do you need help, maybe? Is your friend hurt?”
Steven didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t very well say that Sabina had been nearly killed by fiendish dragons and that she might’ve cast a spell that had irreparably damaged her.
Tessa jumped in to rescue them. “She had a bit too much to drink. We’re American college kids. We lost our group. How far are we from Mont-Saint-Michel?”
The old guy chuckled. “Oh, to be young! Yes, you are about fifty kilometers from Mont-Saint-Michel. The walled city in front of us is Saint-Malo. It used to be for pirates. You can find a place to sleep there. And maybe drink some more?”
“I could use some wine,” Tessa said. By the tone of her voice, it was clear she was being very serious.
Steven left Tessa and Sabina on the beach while he walked into the city in wet clothes and bare feet. He left the coffer with them.
Saint-Malo was everything he could ever want in a medieval city. Narrow cobblestone streets, amazing houses with flower boxes in front of each window, canyon-like alleyways, and ornate churches. A lot of it was touristy, with vendors selling crepes, plastic crap, and beach stuff. Other shops looked to be old and established. One had a stone gargoyle connected to the gutter so during a storm the monster vomited rainwater.
Steven got his cell phone out, but unfortunately it had been soaked by their time in the ocean. Also, most likely they didn’t have a plan for Europe, so he couldn’t call Liam, Mouse, or Aria. Or his mom.
Well, at least he had money. But would a normal hotel take gold coins? That seemed unlikely. He did have an emergency credit card, but the limit was low—less than a thousand dollars. That would be enough for a room. Problem was, if Rahaab had any connections with the global financial systems, he would be scanning for Steven’s account activity. Most likely, Boaz & Jessup, the law firm stopping Steven from getting his spoils of war, could track his financial activity.
Steven didn’t want to risk it. So he’d have to find a place that took ancient Roman coins.
Eventually, he found a small hotel on the edge of the city wall, overlooking the ocean, that looked promising.
Steven ducked into the lobby, which smelled like the cologne the thin guy behind the desk wore. Glass tables and black leather chairs clustered together next to a fireplace.
The place was perfect, near a little market next door, and not in the loud rush of the more touristy sections.
Steven approached the desk. “Hello, do you have any rooms available?”
The man gave him a frown, his forehead creasing in annoyance. “How do you know I speak English? You are in France. Maybe you should speak French.”
Ugh, this guy was the worst. “Sorry. I’m new around here. American college student. Do you have a room or n
ot?”
“We have our suite.” The guy’s eyes dropped to Steven’s bare feet. “But I must warn you. It is expensive. Not really for your type.”
“I can pay,” Steven said. “Can I book it?”
“I would need to see your passport, and I would need proof you could pay.”
Passport. Now that was going to be a problem. Steven had his wallet, his driver’s license, sure, but he didn’t have a passport. Never had one at all. And if he talked about gold coins without proof, this dickhead would only give him attitude.
“No problem,” Steven said with a shrug. “I’ll be back with some friends.”
Steven threaded his way through the city once more. If he knew one thing about the world, he knew a pretty face could get you far. Tessa was as beautiful as they came, and with her easy demeanor, he was sure she could worm her way into the hotel clerk’s cold, dead, snooty French heart. A fistful of gold coins would probably help, too.
He found Tessa sitting in the sand with Sabina’s head on her thigh. The barista caressed Sabina’s dark hair. The blind woman was still unconscious, which concerned him to no end. What if she never woke up? What if the portal magic had damaged her beyond repair?
Steven told Tessa their problem. Tessa’s face lightened up. “Saint-Malo sounds amazing. And I can deal with Mr. Customer Service behind the desk. I tried my phone. No dice. So we’re incommunicado. The money, though, that’s not going to be a problem.” She opened the chest and took out a pile of gold coins. “And Bud gave me his credit card if the coins don’t work.”
“What? Why?” Steven asked, a little suspicious.
Tessa smiled wearily. “We knew this might happen, and Bud has always been sweet on me. But don’t worry, no chemistry between me and Mr. Novak. And with Sabina joining us, I got my fix for some ‘strange.’ Know what I’m sayin’?” She winked at him and shed an easy grin.
“You seem to be taking this well,” Steven said, kind of surprised.
