by Rachel Aaron
Julius couldn’t help laughing at that. “You haven’t heard much about me, have you?”
“I’ve heard enough,” Fredrick replied as he started the bath. “Undress, please. We have much to do, and you said you were in a hurry.”
“I did…” he agreed hesitantly. “But, um, I can bathe myself.”
“But I’ll do it better and faster,” Fredrick said. “I can also cut your hair at the same time, which you cannot. Now.” His eyes narrowed. “In.”
After Fredrick’s unnatural subservience in the throne room, hearing the typically draconic bossiness was almost a relief. Julius still didn’t like being ordered, or being naked around a strange dragon, but he was tired of fighting, so he just went along, hopping into the tub to let himself be scrubbed and trimmed and brushed until his skin turned red.
And in the pocket of his jeans, forgotten on the floor of the dressing room, his phone began to vibrate.
***
Marci slumped on the barstool, trying to find a position that wouldn’t aggravate her still-bruised ribs as she called Julius. Again. And got no answer. Again. After the third failure, she slammed her phone down on the marble bar in frustration, raising a snicker from the group of perfectly hard-bodied men and women sitting at the table behind her.
The sound made her shoulders tighten. When Julius had failed to answer her first call half an hour ago, the dragon in charge of the Heartstrikers’ human infirmary—Fernando or Frank or something starting with F—had told Marci she could wait for her dragon in the lounge. At the time, she’d jumped all over the idea. She’d waited her entire life for a chance to explore an honest-to-god dragon mountain, and anything that got her out of the infirmary was A-OK in her book. Once she’d actually arrived, though, it hadn’t taken more than five minutes for her to realize that something was off.
It wasn’t that the lounge wasn’t nice. It was lovely. A chic, modern space that looked more like a hotel than part of a dragon compound with its vaulted ceiling, tasteful earth tones, and giant windows overlooking the surrounding New Mexico desert. But for all the corporate class of architecture, the people inside were anything but. To start, none of them looked a day over twenty-two, and they all looked like models with their perfect hair and washboard stomachs that were constantly on display since no one here seemed to believe in wearing a shirt.
It was a huge change from the relatively normal human staff she’d met in the medical area, but the real kicker had been when a group of the beautiful people had come up to her at the bar, and the very first question out of their mouths was “Who’s your dragon?”
Not “Hello” or “Welcome to the mountain” or “Why is there a ghost cat sleeping in your arms?” Just “Who’s your dragon?” followed by instant disgust when she’d said Julius’s name. The moment the J at the start of his name had left her lips, she’d ceased to exist except as a target for the snickering gossip, and that was the moment when Marci had finally realized the truth. Despite its lovely views, comfy couches, and complimentary full bar, the “lounge” wasn’t a lounge at all. It was a holding pen for all the groupies whose dragons were otherwise engaged.
“It’s human daycare,” she grumbled, shoving away the watery vodka cocktail the bartender had sullenly dropped in front of her. “They put me in freaking human daycare.”
Why are you complaining? Ghost asked, cracking a glowing eye from where he was sleeping on the barstool beside her. I thought you enjoyed being a dragon’s human.
“I like being with Julius,” she corrected, glaring over her shoulder at the giggling cluster of perfectly groomed co-eds. “All they care about is how important their dragon makes them.” They didn’t even seem to mind that they’d been dropped off here like pets while their dragons attended to more important business. “I bet they don’t even know where their dragons are.”
Do you know where yours is?
Marci grimaced. “Fair point,” she said, dropping her phone back into her bag with a sigh.
To be honest, she was a little ticked that Julius hadn’t come to get her like he’d promised, but she wasn’t about to blame him for it. He’d just become one of the most important dragons in his clan literally overnight. That was a change that was bound to cause some upset, though at least the girls who’d snubbed her for being with a J would soon be laughing out of the other side of their mouths.
It might not have been mature, but that was still was a very comforting thought, and Marci wasn’t above giving the groupies a superior look before putting them out of her mind and turning back to her spirit, who was now fully awake for the first time since she’d been injured.
“So,” she said, leaning her elbows on the bar. “Now that you’re awake, we have a lot to go over.”
I’m not awake because I want to be, he said with an irritable flick of his tail. I only woke up because you were upset, and that turned out to be about the stupid dragon. He yawned. I’m going back to sleep.
“No, you’re not,” Marci said firmly. “We still have to talk about what happened with Vann Jeger.”
What’s to talk about? We won.
“Using an army of ghosts,” she reminded him. “Call me crazy, but I think that’s the kind of thing we should discuss. Like, for example…” She leaned in closer, dropping her voice to an excited whisper. “How did you do it? I know you’re the Spirit of the Forgotten Dead, but how does that work? Is anyone who dies and is forgotten part of your magical domain? And if so, what does that say about death? Do we all stay around as ghosts or—”
You do know that “talking” implies you give me a chance to answer, right?
“Sorry,” she said with a sheepish smile. “I’m just so excited. You’re a whole new frontier of magic. Can you blame me for wanting to know?”
No, Ghost said, staring through her with his glowing eyes. It’s part of why I chose you. But I’m afraid I don’t have many answers.
“What?” she cried too loudly, drawing startled looks from the beautiful people around her. “Why not?” she asked, dropping her voice again. “I gave you magic, we bought your name. You said you’d know!”
I do know. I know my name, The Empty Wind, and my purpose, to aid and champion those who have been forgotten. Considering how little I knew when I woke, that’s a lot, but it’s still not everything.
He rose to his feet and stepped forward, walking across the bar until they were nose to freezing nose. I know I was right to choose you, he said solemnly. Just as I know that neither of us was born to be alone. We are both human magic, and humans are meant to be together. Beyond that, though, I have no idea. It’s just like that time in the alley. I know there’s something I need to do, somewhere I must take you, but I don’t know what or where or why. He flattened his ears. It’s frustrating.
“You’re telling me,” Marci said, reaching out to scratch his head. “But we’ll figure it out.”
How?
She shrugged. “I don’t know. But I didn’t craft a whole new binding spell for us after Vann Jeger just for kicks.” She smiled and wrapped a firm mental hand around the thick cord of magic tying them together. “This new connection binds me to you as much as it does you to me. That means I’ve got as much skin in this game as you do now, so you can believe it when I say we’re going to figure this out. We might have started this partnership by accident, but we’re going to finish as a team.”
I know, the spirit said proudly. I’ve never doubted that you would not rest until you’d pried every secret from its hiding place.
“Who wouldn’t?” Marci asked, her voice humming with anticipation. “You’re our chance! I was doing some research while you were asleep, and I couldn’t find a single thing about Mortal Spirits. At least not in the modern references. So far as I can tell, you break every rule we know about spirits, and that is so exciting I can’t even put it in words.” She reached out to pick him up. “We’re going to change the world, Ghost! I’ll help you, you help me, and together we’ll help everyone rediscover wha
t we forgot about magic during the drought. We’ve already learned more in one fight than I could have hoped for, and this is just the beginning! We’re so close to the truth I can taste it, so you just tell me whatever you need, and I’m there.”
The spirit’s eyes flashed. Whatever I need?
“Within reason,” Marci amended quickly. “No unlimited access to Julius’s magic or anything like that.”
Ghost glowered. Spoilsport.
Marci was unmoved. “I’m on to your greedy ways, mister. And I know that I can end up being your human just as fast as you became my spirit, so don’t even try.”
It wouldn’t be that bad, you know, Ghost said, but he didn’t argue the point. He looked more tired than anything else, settling back down on the bar’s surface with a yawn. Though I could use some more magic. It’s too thin here. I can’t stay awake.
That wasn’t actually an unreasonable request. Compared to the molasses that was magic in the DFZ, the ambient power out here in the desert felt like thin gruel. Marci had actually forgotten how hard it was to pull magic out of the air normally until she’d tried to recharge some of her bracelets this morning while she was lying around waiting on her discharge. It had taken her almost half an hour to collect enough power for one shot of her microwave spell, a process that had been instant in the DFZ. Clearly, she’d gotten spoiled. Ghost, on the other hand, had been born in the DFZ and, until Marci had taken him here, never left it. At least so far as she knew. Poor little guy must be starving.
“Here,” she said, shoving the reserve magic she’d managed to scrape together down their connection. “That’s all I’ve got. I’ll ask Julius about securing more when I see him again.” If she saw him again. “Is it enough?”
For now, Ghost replied with a yawn. Going to sleep. Need to conserve. He curled into a ball. Wake me if anything happens. Dragons can’t be trusted.
“Funny,” Marci said. “They say the same thing about you.” She patted the top of his transparent head. “Go to sleep, kitten. I’ll wake you when I’ve got more food.”
Ghost didn’t even give her an evil look for the kitten comment. He just fell asleep, his white body fading into the marble bar-top until it was gone entirely.
As always, that was a little unnerving. Not being a shaman, Marci had never studied spirits in depth, though from the reading she’d done after she got Ghost, she was reasonably sure that no one—or, at least, no human—knew where spirits went when they vanished. But while she couldn’t see Ghost, their connection was still strong and stable in her mind. That was as good as she was going to get for now, so Marci settled back on her barstool to enjoy her complimentary bottom-shelf booze and suck more magic out of the air to feed Ghost when he woke up. She was wondering if anyone here would stop her if she drew a circle on the lounge’s floor to speed things up when someone shouted her name from across the room.
“Marci!”
The shriek nearly made her fall off the barstool. She’d barely gotten back on again when Amelia slammed into her. “Here you are!” the dragon cried, picking Marci up in a hug that nearly cracked her ribs a second time. “I’ve been looking everywhere!”
“Nice to see you, too, Amelia,” Marci gasped. “Can you—”
“Oh, right, sorry,” Amelia said, letting her go. “I always forget how squishy you mortals are. But what are you doing here?” She looked distastefully at the beautiful people, all of whom were now staring at them in awestruck amazement. “This is the lowest grade of human storage. Eye-candy only. Not that I object to decorative mortals, but it’s no place for a mage. What’s Julius thinking, letting you rot in here?”
“I don’t think he knows,” Marci said, trying not to look as smug as that comment made her feel. “He was supposed to pick me up thirty minutes ago, but he’s not answering his phone, so they stuck me in here.”
Amelia looked appalled. “He stood you up?!”
“No, no!” Marci said, raising her hands. “That’s not—”
“That little bastard,” Amelia growled, clenching her fists. “A treasure like you should be jealously guarded, not taken for granted. I’ll wring his scrawny neck!”
“Please don’t,” Marci begged. “Really, I’m fine. He’s just super busy, and it’s not like I had anywhere special to be. Thanks for boosting my ego, though.”
“You’re welcome,” Amelia said, her anger vanishing so fast, Marci was now certain it had all been for show. “So are you ready for me to bust you out of here?”
“God, yes,” Marci said, grabbing her bag. “If I have to listen to another perfect ten brag about she belongs to an H, I’m going to set something on fire.”
“I would pay to see that,” the dragoness said. “But funny as it would be to watch you torch Bethesda’s human fish tank, I think we’d better go. The drinks here are an insult to alcohol.”
She made a retching face at Marci’s half-empty glass and put out her hand. The moment her fingers extended, the air in front of them peeled open, creating a perfect doorway in the empty space beside the bar.
“Come on, baby,” Amelia said, stepping through the portal. “Let’s move up in the world.”
Marci couldn’t follow her fast enough. She tossed down a tip for the bartender and jumped after Amelia. But when she glanced back for a final check to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything, something was already in her seat.
It happened so quickly, it took Marci’s brain several seconds to recognize the big black shape on the barstool was a bird. A very large bird with jet-black feathers, a black beak, and glossy black eyes that were looking at Marci with obvious intelligence. If it wasn’t for the size, she’d have sworn it was a raven. Or possibly a crow, she’d never been able to tell the two apart. Either way, the bird perched on her stool was too big to be either. It was closer to the size of a medium dog, which only made the situation odder since the bartender—who’d swooped in to collect his tip the moment Marci left—didn’t seem to notice the bird at all. The bird didn’t seem to notice him, either. It was staring through the portal at Marci, turning its head to look at her with each of its beady eyes before the doorway twisted itself shut.
“Marci?”
She jerked her head up to see Amelia staring at her in concern. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” Marci said, running her hand through her short hair. “It’s just… did you see a bird just now?”
“A bird?” Amelia shook her head. “No way. Most animals won’t come near the mountain. Too many predators.” She frowned. “What kind of bird was it?”
“A big one,” Marci said. “And it was looking at me.”
She knew how stupid that sounded the moment it was out of her mouth, but Amelia just nodded as though seeing giant birds appearing from nowhere made total sense. “I was wondering when the scavengers would start showing up.”
That didn’t make Marci feel better. “What does that mean?”
“Nothing you need to worry about at present,” Amelia said, glancing around at the huge, empty stone room she’d portaled them to. “Right now, we’ve got places to be.”
“Where are we going?” Marci asked, hurrying after her.
Amelia grinned over her shoulder. “With me? Where do you think? We’re going to a party!”
That didn’t make a lot of sense considering they were in a dark, empty room, but before Marci could ask her to explain, Amelia pulled back a curtain Marci hadn’t seen in the dark, filling the room with blinding morning sunlight and the unmistakable scent of snow.
***
At the same time, several miles away, a tall, dark-skinned woman with an ageless face was waiting impatiently on the balcony of a tiny desert motel on the edge of Heartstriker territory. She was scanning the bright morning sky, counting under her breath as her oddly precise gray eyes followed the distant shapes of dragons, when a large black bird swooped down to land on the shoulder of her plain but perfectly tailored suit jacket.
“About time,” she growled, turning to face
him. “Bethesda’s whole clan must be in there by now. Did you find out what she’s up to?”
“Oh yes,” Raven said, flapping his wings. “But this is much better.”
The woman looked skeptical. “Better than discovering why the Dragon Queen of the Americas and the White Witch of the Three Sisters have decided to stop trying to kill each other and team up?”
“That one’s obvious,” he said, hopping off her shoulder to perch on the balcony’s metal railing. “Even dragons can put aside their differences in the face of outside threats. But this is new! What we’ve been looking for. Not even Myron knows.”
“What don’t I know?” a man’s voice called from inside the hotel room.
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” the woman said as a handsome man in his mid-fifties wearing enough wards on his clothing to make even magic-deaf people uncomfortable stepped out to join her. “Raven says he’s found something big, Undersecretary.”
The mage arched his eyebrows. “Bigger than the world’s biggest dragon clan panicking like a kicked-over anthill?”
“For certain,” the bird said. “But I’m not playing with you.” He tilted his head to fix his beady eye on the woman. “My riddle’s for Emily.”
“It’s not much of a riddle, then,” she said, crossing her muscular arms over her chest. “There are only two things that could possibly get you this excited right now, and since you’ve already said it’s not the one we came to investigate, I’m going to go out on a limb and guess that you’ve found our Mortal Spirit.”
The mage beside her did a double take while the raven began to chitter happily. “See? See?” he said, hopping back up onto her shoulder. “That’s why I stay with you. You’re always so much cleverer than anyone gives you credit for.”
“Thank you for the non-compliment,” she said, glaring up at the dark mountain that rose from the desert like a thorn. “Do the dragons know?”
