Tears of a Dragon

by Bryan Davis

  Jasmine waved her arm at the circle of captives. “You will trade places with these?”

  He gazed at their faces. A few of them shook their heads, obviously disapproving of the deal. Constance stood and gazed at him, her eyes wide and adoring.

  Billy firmed his chin. “I will trade.”

  “Agreed.” Jasmine took a ring from the man who had brought the noose and tossed it toward the roof. Billy snatched it out of the air and reached for Bonnie’s hand, but she jerked away. “Billy, what do you think you’re doing?”

  “Saving souls.” He grabbed her wrist and forced the ring over her knuckle. With shaking hands he pushed his fingers through her hair and intertwined them behind her head. “Do you know how many times you’ve told me to trust you?”

  Bonnie’s lips trembled, her halo glistening in the sun. She nodded slowly.

  “Well, I’m asking you to trust me now.” He turned and clutched Brogan’s arm. “You two will lead these captives to the theatre. As soon as you can, get everyone on stage as close to the red screen as possible. If I understand all this prophecy stuff, if I can get the people to believe who this prophetess really is and how she’s been keeping the truth from them, maybe they’ll come with me. Maybe I won’t have to die after all.”

  “And then what?” Bonnie asked.

  He hugged Bonnie and whispered in her ear. “I think the Great Key screen will turn white, but if I’m not there to lead everyone through it, you’ll have to. And if I do have to die . . .” He pulled back, his arms aching to hold her forever. “I’ll see you in heaven.”

  Bonnie’s voice cracked. “I . . . understand.”

  Billy glanced around the surface of the roof. “Can you two get down?”

  “Yes.” Brogan bounded to the next building and pulled up a trap door. “My florist shop is right underneath.”

  Billy noted the time again. Fifteen minutes to go. “Hurry! Go now! I’ll get down another way.”

  Bonnie and Brogan hustled down a ladder. The door dropped closed behind them with a thud. Seconds later, they ran out the florist shop, Brogan waving his arm at the prisoners. “Follow us! Hurry!”

  The ring of men split apart, allowing the prisoners to leave, one strapping man carrying an old lady as they hustled down the street. Constance sidestepped the crowd and lingered, looking up at Billy.

  Jasmine spread out her arms. “As you see, I have completed my part of the bargain.” Two men draped the hangman’s rope over the statue of Captain Autarkeia. The noose swung freely about six feet off the ground.

  Billy walked to the edge of the roof. “Why did you trust me? I could still run away.”

  “Because I . . .” She looked back at the crowd.

  Billy jumped to an awning and slid down to the end of its canvas, launching outward like a ski jumper. Bending his knees, he landed deftly on both feet directly in front of Jasmine, then glared at her, speaking softly. “Because you knew I’d keep my word.” He raised his voice to a shout. “She knew I’d keep my word. And why? Because I tell the truth. I’m not a liar like she is.”

  New murmurs rushed through the crowd. Jasmine’s henchmen grabbed Billy and hustled him to the center island. The stoutest of her gang pulled the noose lower and draped it around Billy’s neck, giving it a tug to make it tight. Another man, smelling of tobacco and cheap wine, tied his wrists together behind him.

  From his higher vantage point, Billy could see a lone man in front of the bookstore, bending his tall frame to lock the door. Billy drew in a breath to shout to his dad, but the rope cut his air supply, squeezing off his yelp. His shoes lifted into the air. He stretched his feet, trying to get his toes to touch the ground, but it was just out of reach. The rope knifed into his skin. Pressure flooded his head, pounding his skull. His lungs demanded air. His chest heaved. His whole body felt like it was on fire.

  Jasmine shouted over the crowd’s growing buzz. “You heard him agree to give himself over to me. As your mayor, because of our law condemning the oracles of fire, I have sentenced him to death by hanging.”

  “No!” Constance jumped up to the island and grabbed Billy’s legs, propping him up. “You can’t do this! He’s had no trial!”

  Billy gasped for breath. The rope relaxed, and precious gulps of air filled his lungs. Constance pushed him higher, her strength more than he guessed it could be. The smelly hangman lunged at her, but a taller man came out of nowhere and threw him to the side. The tall man then grabbed the stout hangman by the nape of the neck and tossed him to the street, sending him tumbling across the cobblestones. Billy’s rescuer shoved Jasmine with his fingertips. She fell backwards and landed heavily on her seat. Several in the crowd applauded, some making catcalls.

  While Constance kept her stranglehold on Billy’s legs, another pair of hands lifted the noose, freeing Billy from its painful grip. His body slipped downward, and he found himself face-to-face with Constance, her fairy-like eyes blazing with passion. For a brief second, a flash of familiarity brushed his mind, but when a masculine voice spoke from behind he swept the memory aside. “You may have won a few more converts, Billy. You’d better lead them to the theatre.”

  Billy spun around and looked up into the eyes of his father. “Dad?”

  Reginald patted him on the back. “I am not convinced of that yet, young man, but, madman or not, I knew I had to stop a murder.” His deep brown eyes glistened. “And now I’m ready to see what is playing at the theatre.”

  Billy wanted to embrace him, to wrap his arms around his muscular frame and welcome his dad back into his heart, but he couldn’t. Not yet. Not until Dad’s memory returned. Not until he knew for sure that he was Jared Bannister.

  Billy jumped down from the island, rubbing his neck. Jasmine scooted back, her eyes wide with terror, but Billy passed her by and waved to the crowd. “We have to hurry. If you want to go to the new world, follow me.” Dozens of new converts gathered around, whistling and shouting, and they all turned toward the theatre.

  “Wait!” Constance hooked her arm through Billy’s and nodded at Reginald. “You lead everyone to the theatre. Billy needs a ring to enter, and I know where to get one that no one else needs.”

  Reginald turned slowly, glancing back at her before calling out, “Follow me!” The mass of believers hustled down the narrow road, while the rest, muttering curses and insults, filtered toward the other buildings, leaving soiled blankets and spilled food strewn across the square.

  Billy pulled his arm away from Constance. “We have to hurry. Where’s the ring?”

  “I have it right here.” Constance reached into her dress pocket and gazed into Billy’s eyes. For a brief moment, that flash of familiarity returned, a glimpse of feigned innocence in her nymphean eyes. “Don’t you remember me?” she asked.

  Billy took a step back. “Naamah?”

  Her appearance changed again, this time altering to the slender wraith Billy saw with Morgan in the third circle, the black-hearted sister who obeyed Morgan’s every command.

  “Elaine?” Billy lurched to the side, but Elaine’s vise-grip fingers wrenched his shirt. Her eyes flashed with malevolence, red and shining like bloody lasers.

  A sharp pain jolted Billy’s senses, a horrible pain. His head drooped. The hilt of a dagger protruded from his chest, her delicate fingers wrapped around it. Elaine, an unearthly smile on her face, drove it farther in, piercing his heart, her sleeve sliding up to reveal a scar around her wrist. Her words spat out, each one punctuated with venom as she twisted her grip. “Nobody . . . turns . . . me . . . down.”

  Billy fell backwards, his hands groping for the dagger, gasping and gurgling. As a curtain of red fog filtered into his eyes, he grasped the hilt and pulled it out. Warm liquid spilled over his hands. His mind seemed to drain away, sinking between the cobblestones under his back, then a sense of floating took over, as though strong arms had lifted him from the street. The red mist changed slowly to white. Then, darkness.

  Chapter 16

  RETU
RN OF THE DRAGON

  The door slammed behind Walter. As the room swirled around his dizzy brain, he braced himself on the doorframe. A strange mix of tables and machines seemed to orbit a . . . a person?

  A pair of strong arms latched around his chest. “C’mon, Walter,” a female voice said. “There’s a chair over here.”

  Giving up some of his weight to the support, he let his feet drag.

  “Oof! You’re heavy.”

  The voice finally registered in Walter’s mind. He tried to hold his head erect. “Ashley?”

  “Glad to hear you still know me.” Tender fingers searched through his hair. “I’ve been praying like crazy that you survived the fall. What did you do? Knock yourself out?”

  “Just the usual stuff.” His voice sounded as dizzy as his head. “Falling out of airplanes, paddling in a broken crate through miles of ice water, duking it out with a demon. You know. A normal day at the office. . . . And you?”

  Ashley laughed, her fingers moving to the back of Walter’s head. “Oh, here it is. You have a class A-one knot back there, boy.”

  “And it was my first day as a sailor. Not bad, huh?”

  As Ashley caressed the lump, his vision seemed to improve, each second bringing her worried face more clearly into focus. The room stopped spinning, and even the stabbing headache changed to a tolerable throb.

  “Well,” she replied, “I guess you can say I’ve been working for the devil. Not that I’m enjoying it.”

  “Oh, yeah. The candlestone. Did you get Devin out yet?”

  “No, but everything’s ready to go.” Ashley pulled her hands away and set them on her hips. “Morgan’s coming to attend the grand restoration.”

  “In Shelly’s body?”

  “Yeah. It’ll be weird for you seeing your sister like that. I hope you can take it.”

  Walter rubbed his head. “I think at this point, I can take almost anything.”

  The door opened again, and Shelly shuffled in, her head down. Now in a black dress, she looked like a widow at a graveside. With her hands folded in front of her, she lifted her head, a look of complete shame covering her face. “Walter, I’m so sorry! She’s making me do these things. I wish I had never—”

  Shelly’s head snapped back. Her eyes rolled upward, leaving only the whites showing. Clutching her chest and gasping, her eyes slowly rolled back in place, her pupils now dark red. She croaked, “Welcome, Walter.” Her voice was sort of like Shelly’s, only deeper and rough. “Since you put Devin in the candlestone, I thought it appropriate to invite you to his welcome home party.”

  Walter seethed. A hundred snappy comebacks rolled through his mind, but each one died on his lips. Heat burned in his chest and rose up into his throat, his head ready to explode. He looked past that familiar face and saw the evil sorceress behind the curtain, a demon who held captive the mind of his sister. He saw Morgan Le Faye for the hideous creature she really was.

  The anger that had built ever since he first received word of Shelly’s capture seethed inside him. The volcano finally erupted. “Get out of my sister!” Walter screamed. He rushed for Morgan, grabbed her shoulders, and pressed his nose against hers. “I see you in there, you cowardly witch! You pick on little girls, but when you have to face a man you hide behind the skirts of a college coed!” He raised a fist and shook it. “Come out and fight me. I’m not afraid of you!”

  “You think I’m stupid enough to fall for your little taunt?” Morgan smiled and patted him on the cheek. “Come now, Walter, give your new and improved sister a little more credit than that.” She pulled free from his grasp. With a sweep of her long, silky dress, she glided to a glass door at the outer wall of the room and raised the blinds. “I will give you the fight you want soon enough, but first I must make a larger door for Devin’s escape.” Placing her hands on each jamb, she pushed against the wall. Two streams of black smoke poured through her nostrils and adhered to the glass like dark textured paint. Morgan backed away several tottering steps, then fell on her seat. With a resounding crash, the wall, the door, and a window exploded. Glass, plaster, and cinder blocks crumbled to dust and shards. The black smoke retreated and coalesced into a cloud before streaming back into Shelly’s nostrils.

  On the other side of the hole, a gravel path wound toward the lake. In the distance, dragons and Watchers darted in and out across the sky. A handful of humans scurried about, but they were too far away to recognize.

  “That should be large enough for a dragon.” Shelly’s body rose from the floor and dusted herself off. “Now, Ashley, let’s get on with it.”

  Ashley crossed her arms and set her feet. “Release Mrs. Foley and Pebbles first.”

  Morgan glided toward Ashley, a smile belying her blazing eyes. “Removing your incentive to get Devin out would be rather foolhardy of me, don’t you think?” She stopped, the fire in her pupils dying down. “But I see your point. You believe I would kill all my captives once you’ve done my bidding, so what would it profit you to continue?” She picked up a glass lens from the table and flipped it in the air like a coin. “We seem to be at an unfortunate impasse.” She caught the lens in her palm. “How about, ‘Heads, I kill Mrs. Foley right now. Tails, I kill Walter instead.’ Would that put a dent in your stubbornness? Either way, Pebbles would still be alive to make sure you finish your assignment.”

  Walter stepped between Morgan and Ashley. “If you let them go, you’ll still have me.” He flicked his thumb over his shoulder at Ashley. “She’ll still have incentive to do the job. When it’s done, I’ll take the candlestone so I’ll have a fighting chance to survive even if you go back on the deal.”

  Morgan extended her hand—Shelly’s hand—and caressed Walter’s cheek. He steeled his face. If he flinched at all, she’d know he was really scared spitless. He imagined himself as a granite cliff. That helped . . . a little.

  “I admire chivalry, even in my enemies,” Morgan said. “I accept your offer.” Her red eyes focused on Ashley. “Agreed?”

  Walter could almost feel Ashley fuming behind him. He had come up with the idea without thinking much about it, hoping she would calculate all the options, but his rash decision might have taken her by surprise.

  “We both know you’re a liar,” Ashley replied. “Why should we trust you to keep any kind of deal?”

  Morgan’s eyes flashed, like a fire fed a splash of gasoline, but she recovered quickly. “Then you have misunderstood my curse,” she said, sweeping past Ashley with a graceful stride. “I can keep nothing that is not given to me, so the Watchers capture and hold all prisoners.” She spun back toward them, her black dress twirling. “But if someone gives me something, I am bound to do whatever I can to keep it from perishing. That is why I never killed King Arthur when he gave himself into my care.” She rubbed her hands along her hips. “Shelly is also safe within this body, and now that Walter has offered to be my prisoner, I will keep him whole.”

  Silence blanketed the room. Morgan stared at Ashley through Shelly’s corrupted eyes. A loud roar erupted from somewhere outside, a dragon’s cry of pain. An answering screech reverberated. Was it a Watcher’s cry of celebration?

  Walter rubbed the knot on his head. The injuries were mounting, and the battle outside sounded pretty bleak. It was no wonder Ashley didn’t want to give the enemy another weapon, but she really didn’t have any choice. “You have to get Devin out,” he said. “I’ll be her prisoner. I’ve been through worse.”

  Ashley sighed and nodded. “Okay. But I want to see Mrs. Foley take Pebbles out of this place first.”

  “Consider it done.” Morgan clapped her hands. A Watcher entered, his red eyes flaming. “Release the other prisoners.” She waved her hand as if dismissing a servant.

  “Don’t treat me like a slave,” the Watcher growled. “If your plan fails, Samyaza will not protect you from us.”

  Morgan’s face burned. “Be gone!” she yelled, thrusting her finger toward the door. “My word is Samyaza’s.”

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nbsp; The Watcher scowled at her and left the room, leaving the door partway open.

  Marilyn stood at the furnace room door and pressed her ear against it. “It’s quiet now.”

  Karen leaned close, bending over Marilyn to listen. “Any idea what that noise was?”

  “An explosion of some kind. No clue.” Marilyn pulled back, her jaw tense. “We’d better make our move now.”

  Catherine closed Pebbles’s book and tucked it under her arm. “Are you ready to go?”

  Pebbles wrinkled her eyebrows. “How are we going to get past the monsters?”

  Marilyn lifted Pebbles into her arms and kissed her cheek. “So far the Watchers haven’t seen anything I’ve been carrying, so they won’t be able to see you either.” Her confident smile probably fooled Pebbles, but Karen knew better. Marilyn wasn’t really sure at all.

  Catherine laughed nervously. “Can you carry me too?”

  Marilyn shifted Pebbles higher in her arms. “I think this big, brave girl is all I can handle, but we’ll get you out of here. Shiloh and Karen will create a diversion in the stairwell, and we’ll head for the exit door.”

  Karen’s throat suddenly dried up. “Uh, what kind of diversion?”

  “Just scream and yell and stomp your feet, then scoot far away from where you made the noise.”

  “Okay.” Karen swallowed through her parched throat. “Then what?”

  Marilyn laid her hand on the doorknob. “Then try to find Ashley.”

  Shiloh put her arm around Karen’s shoulders. “We can do it. Girl power, remember?”

  “Yeah,” Karen said, shuddering. “But I think this girl’s batteries need a recharge.”

  Marilyn opened the door a crack and peeked out, then shut it quietly. “A Watcher’s coming!” She set Pebbles down and raised a finger to her lips. “I have a new plan.”

  The door opened again, and the shining head ducked under the top of the doorframe. Staring quizzically at the latch, he began peeling away Marilyn’s tape. “What happened here?”