by M. R. Forbes
I also knew something was happening. Something bad. But that was nothing new. Bad shit had been happening since the day I killed those two ogres and stole the job to break into the original Red’s house. Scratch that. Bad shit had been happening since Samedi’s dice had called to me from New Orleans, enticing me down with their promise of power and leading me along the shit-brick-road to this metal box.
No. The bad shit had started before that. I had gotten sick. It was all downhill from there.
The metal box touched the surface. Of all of the idiots gathered inside, I was probably the most tense. My hands shook with anticipation, the dark energy flowing off in wisps as a result. Amos put one foot in front of the other, setting himself as a wall in front of us, weapons at the ready.
The doors started to part.
A lightning bolt tore into the space, hitting Amos full-on. I could see the energy course along his overcoat and then lance out to the sides of the elevator, trying to surround us and cook us as if we were in a fucking microwave. Without much thought, I reached out and touched the side of the elevator. I could sense the electromancy of the magic, and I could feel it dissipating at my contact. As quickly as it had appeared, it was gone, swallowed by the darkness that surrounded me.
“Fuck yeah,” Frank said.
Amos grunted, moving forward into the corridor. His shotgun fired, and I saw someone collapse under the blow. He rocked the shotgun in one hand, reloading while he fired his pistol, staying on the attack to give us space to disembark. I reached out to Maury again, finding the skeleton close and bringing him back to life. A quick peek through his eyes showed me what we were up against. Tarakona’s servants had all been killed and brought back to life, nearly thirty of them in all.
And at the rear of the line? Peter, Tarakona’s top wizard. He was the one who had thrown the lightning bolt at us, and he was in the middle of preparing a nice, big-ass fireball.
I would have been mad at him if he had still been himself, but it seemed that Samedi’s ability to animate the dead beat the fuck out of mine. Peter had a nicely slit throat and had clearly spent at least a few seconds as a corpse before being brought back as evil Peter who still happened to have full control of all his magic. But then, Death had told us that was how it would be. Samedi had a never-ending supply of soldiers to add to his army, and every living thing he killed became yet another dead thing for him to use. They had reversed the poles and gotten rid of all of magic to stop him from ending the world the first time. And now I was supposed to do what the most powerful creatures in the universe couldn’t? What Death couldn’t and Tarakona couldn’t and who knew who else couldn’t?
I sent Maury forward, rushing toward Peter before he could finish his spell. The undead wizard noticed him coming at the last second, redirecting the flames toward the skeleton and letting loose. I could see the orange flare through my own eyes back behind Amos, and I felt the thread of my magic release as the bones were reduced to ash.
“Peter’s back there,” I said, alerting Amos. “He just toasted Maury.”
“Aww, fuck,” Amos replied.
He moved aside, giving Frank space to join the fray. The trogre charged ahead, grabbing zombies and slamming them into the walls or twisting off their heads. Tarakona’s other followers weren’t wizards. They weren’t even magicians. Most of them were maintenance - the men and woman who kept the dragon comfortable and his lair clean and functional. They didn’t have weapons other than their bodies, and their numbers would only help them so much against superior firepower.
Peter was the real threat, and it was obvious to me that the others were in the way to distract us while he worked his magic.
“Dannie, we need to get to Peter,” I said, glancing back at her.
“We?” she replied.
“I can dispel anything he throws at us. You stab him.”
“Are you sure about this?”
“No, but do you have another idea?”
“No.”
“Amos, Frank, keep the zombies off us,” I said.
“You got it, Boss,” Frank replied.
He had a big smile on his face as he grabbed one of the undead and threw it back into another. I didn’t know how he could be enjoying himself as much as he was, but then again, he seemed to enjoy everything.
I ducked between Frank’s legs to get past him, with Danelle right behind me. Amos shotgun echoed in the small space, blasting the zombies immediately ahead of us and giving us some room. We made it halfway before Peter’s first attack came, another dense fireball that sucked the air away as it crossed the center of the horde. I put my magic-heavy hands out toward it, watching as the black energy went out to meet the flames. It started to shrink as it approached, and by the time I caught it was little more than a smoldering wisp. I had contained it, but only barely.
“Conor,” Danelle shouted.
I turned back to see a zombie grab her shoulder, digging in with inhuman strength. I grabbed the hand, pushing my magic into it, surprised when it collapsed beneath my grip, turning into a corpse once more.
Idiot. Of course, if I could dispel incoming fireballs I could remove the magic that was powering the zombies.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
Dannie nodded.
“I have an idea,” I said.
“What?”
“Stab me.”
“What? Are you fucking kidding?”
“No. Don’t stab me somewhere I’ll die. Stab my leg or something. But stab me.”
She had sunk the knife into my thigh before I was done telling her to do it. I clenched my teeth against the pain, hoping the maneuver worked.
It did. As the blood flowed out of the wound, I could feel my capacity for death magic increasing. It only took a few seconds, my body understanding that it was getting closer to the end. I fell to one knee, putting my hands on the ground and drawing the magic in from the thick magical threads that ran through the volcano. I sucked in as much as I could, shutting out the chaos around me.
Then I heaved it out as a massive sigh. A dark cloud spread around me, flowing outward and filling the corridor. The zombies lost their magic and fell dead once more, while the destructive magic reached out and tapped Peter on the shoulder.
The wizard was visible at the end of the corridor, his body turning more pale as the magic did its work. He laughed then, a laugh that I was too damn familiar with. The power of a soul for the power of a soul.
“You’re too late, Conor,” he said in Samedi’s voice. “Until next time.”
Then Peter lost his mojo and died. Again.
9
Dragon Shit.
“Too late?” Frank said, looking at me. “What does he mean, too late?”
I had a feeling I knew the answer. I damn well didn’t like it.
I didn’t answer Frank, running to the dragon viewing room instead. The door was already open, torn off its hinges by powerful magic. I went inside, tensing when I saw how the thick glass between Tarakona’s living space and this one had been broken away. I moved to the edge and leaned over, my eyes burning when I caught sight of a mound of scales at the bottom.
“Is he?” Frank asked, leaning over with me.
“Dead? Yes.”
The voice hadn’t come from any of us. I turned around, not seeing anything at first. My gaze hit the corner of the room, stopping on a pair of yellow eyes.
“Conor.” The voice came from the same place as the eyes. “The lich killed him. One hundred thousand years. All of his magic. It was useless.”
The eyes moved forward, the shadows wrapping back from the speaker. He was tall, dark, and handsome. Chiseled. Hairless. Perfect.
And perfectly naked.
“Oh my,” Dannie said beside me. “I think I’m in love.”
“Me, too,” Frank said. “And I’m not even gay.”
“Do I know you?” I said. He seemed to know me.
“You don’t recognize me, brother? Not even my eyes?”
&
nbsp; I looked a little closer, the truth hitting me like one of Frank’s punches. “Ashiira?”
He nodded.
“Aren’t you supposed to be, you know, a dragon?”
He nodded again.
“So why ain’t you?” Amos asked.
“Father transformed me. He changed me into a human to protect me from the lich. He was looking for Ashiira, the dragon. Not Ashiira, the man.”
“The very fine looking man,” Dannie said.
“Dannie,” I said. “Seriously?”
“Jealous?” she asked.
“Time and place,” I replied.
“When you have something like this right in front of you, it’s a disservice not to enjoy it.”
“Frank, can you do me a favor?”
“What’s up, Boss?”
“Can you find some clothes that will fit Ashiira?”
“Sure.”
“As soon as possible.”
“On it.”
Frank lumbered out of the room. I repositioned myself between Ashiira and Danelle. He didn’t seem concerned about his nakedness, probably because dragons were naked full-time by default. It was a distraction I didn’t need.
“Why did Samedi come here?” I asked. “Why did he kill your father?”
“History,” Ashiira replied. “Father helped imprison him. Why didn’t you tell us he was free?”
“I came as quickly as I could.” I held up my stump. “It hasn’t exactly been a picnic.”
“My apologies, brother. I didn’t know you were injured.”
“I was kind of hoping Tarakona could fit me for a replacement,” I said. “The way he hooked up Frank.”
“I’m sure he would have, but as you’ve seen, everyone in the lair is dead. The lich walked through, and everywhere he stepped, death followed.”
“If he took care of Mr. T so easily, how the fuck did you stay alive?” Amos asked.
“I hid. Like a child.” He ducked back toward the shadow, vanishing as he did. He closed his eyes and disappeared completely. He opened them again a moment later. “But then, I am a child. Not even a year old.”
“You have the body of a twenty-five-year-old,” Dannie said.
“And the memories of an ancient,” Ashiira said. “Father passed much to me since you returned me to him, brother. But I am no match for Samedi. Neither are you. You’re lucky you came when you did, or he would have slaughtered you, too.”
“Funny you should mention that,” I said. “I’m here because I’m trying to put Samedi back in the box. I was the one who let him out, after all.”
“You?” Ashiira said. His yellow eyes flared red.
“Not intentionally,” I said. “I didn’t know what the mask and dice were. Maybe if your pops had bothered to tell me before I fucked everything up, we could have avoided this.”
“I’m sure he had his reasons.”
“Well, his reasons got him killed. And now the last dragon in the world is stuck being a human.”
“I’m not stuck this way. I can change myself back, but doing so would be a lousy way to stay hidden.”
“You got that right,” Amos said.
“I like you the way you are,” Dannie said.
Fucking impossible.
“Hey, I found these,” Frank said, coming back into the room. “Here you go, kid.” He held out a pair of underwear, jeans and a black t-shirt that said ‘Cuddle Monster’ on it. He had sneakers in his other meaty hand.
“Where the hell did you find that?” I asked.
“One of the rooms down the hall. I found a guitar, too. I wanted to riff so bad.”
“You play guitar?” Amos asked.
“Yeah. Well, I did before I got these sausage fingers. I don’t know what it would sound like now.”
“Soren,” Ashiira said. “He was our waste disposal specialist.”
“Waste disposal specialist?” Amos said. “You mean he cleaned up after you?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, I know this isn’t the most sensitive question, especially under the circumstances, but I have to know. How big is a dragon shit, anyway?”
“Amos,” I said, glaring back at him.
He shrugged. “What?”
Again, fucking impossible.
“Ashiira, I was told your father had something I could use to help me deal with Samedi. A portal spell. Do you know anything about it?”
Ashiira slid the underwear on, causing Dannie to sigh. Then he slipped on the jeans and the shirt. He put his feet in the shoes, and then promptly pulled them back out. “How do you wear this stuff?”
“It’s an acquired taste,” Dannie said. “It’s okay with me if you never acquire it.”
“The spell,” I repeated.
“Sorry, brother. I don’t know anything about it. If there’s a spell you need, it would probably be with Father’s hoard.”
“Aww man, I like the sound of that,” Amos said.
“Did Samedi visit the hoard?” I asked, wondering if he knew about the spell.
“No. How could he?”
“What do you mean? Ain’t the hoard a big pile of gold and gems and shit?” Amos asked.
“Maybe a thousand years ago,” Ashiira replied. “All of the financial value has been converted to electronic holdings, real estate, stocks, that sort of thing. Valuable documents were all digitized, the physical copies destroyed. If Father had a spell that could help you, of course, you’re welcome to it.”
“I feel a big-ass but coming on,” Frank said.
“But the digital documents are in the Machine, and you don’t have the passcodes,” I said.
Ashiira nodded. “How did you know?”
“Hey, this is me we’re talking about. You know, the world’s most pathetic asshole with the world’s worst luck?”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Baldie,” Amos said. “I’m sure there’s someone out there with worse luck than you.”
“I’d like to meet them,” I replied. “Maybe we could be miserable together for a couple of hours.”
“So we need to go into the Machine?” Dannie said.
“You didn’t have the best of luck with that the last time,” Amos said.
“We’re going to stay away from public nodes,” I said. “Black is dead, Red is dead, and a lich is on the loose. I expect some fucking cooperation from the rest of the Houses to deal with this.”
“You know the Houses aren’t going to want to get involved,” Dannie said.
“Who said we were going to ask them what they want?” I replied. “Who has the best Machine access after Black?”
“Probably Yellow,” Dannie said. “They control a lot of the most popular rec zones. Mezzo-Urth is my favorite.”
“Ashiira, you said you have access to your father’s memories?”
“Many of them.”
“Do you know where Mr. Yellow lives?”
Ashiira crinkled his face, thinking. “Yes. I do.”
“Do you know how to teleport?”
He repeated the face, taking a little longer to search his brain. “I think so.”
“Good. Zap us over and let’s get the show on the road.”
“Conor, are you sure that’s a good idea?” Dannie asked.
I shook my head. “No, but I’m going with it anyway. We can’t risk that Samedi can send a hit team at us while we’re in the open, which means we need a slightly stronger line of defense. House Yellow is that line of defense, whether they like it or not. I imagine between the five of us we can convince him to do the right thing.”
“Or threaten his life until he does,” Amos said, laughing. “Every once in awhile I’m proud of you for not being a pansy. At least until you go back to being a pansy again.”
I turned to Ashiira. “I’m sorry about your father. He was a good dragon. We’ll avenge him.”
“Thank you, brother. I know we will.”
Ashiira closed his eyes, putting his hands out wide. There wasn’t much pomp to the action.
One moment we were in Tarakona’s lair, the next we were somewhere really, really fucking cold.
10
Silly Rabbit.
“I think my balls are going to fall off,” Amos said, shivering in the cold.
“You and me both, buddy,” Frank replied.
Dannie had to be cold. She was wearing short sleeves. She didn’t let it show, keeping a straight face and taking it like a trooper.
Ashiira was wearing short sleeves, too, but he was a fucking dragon. I could almost feel the heat pouring off him, a sign that would give him away if we stayed out in the open.
“Where are we?” I asked, shaking violently enough that my back started to hurt and had to cough.
“Mr. Yellow,” Ashiira said as Dannie sidled up to him, pushing herself against him to get some of his warmth. Would she ever stop? “This is where he lives.”
“I got that part,” I said. “Where is this?”
“Siberia,” Ashiira replied. “You know House wizards don’t like to reside with the rank and file. It’s uncomfortable on both sides.”
“That doesn’t stop them from screwing with our lives,” Amos said.
“They keep the peace when the world would otherwise be in tatters. They have their uses.”
“Well, right now I could use Mr. Yellow giving me a nice shot of brandy. Where’s the front door?”
“Over there,” Ashiira said, pointing to a small cabin about half a mile away.
“You couldn’t get us any closer?” Amos asked. “Let me guess, wards.”
“All of the Houses have them.”
“Kind of makes teleportation a little less useful. Maybe we could jump to Vegas for a few minutes, get warmed up and come back?”
“It’s plenty warm where I’m standing,” Dannie said.
Ashiira glanced at me, and I suddenly felt a warmth from the print on my back. It spread across me, washing over me from head to toe.
“Thanks, Ash,” I said.
“Of course, brother.”
“What did he do?” Amos asked.
We started walking, leaving him standing there, rubbing his hands together.
“Wait a second,” he said. “What did he do?”
