Dante’s head snapped up so he could stare at the dragon. Its shame was palpable, but that wasn’t much comfort. “So you did this. Wonderful.”
It was necessary.
“Why?” The question was blunt. He wanted to go on, to push for answers, but that one word encompassed everything he needed to know. “Tell me why you used me, for that.”
The dragon didn’t speak. Dante tried to wait it out, but the dragon had the patience of an immortal being. Besides, he could feel his own dragon nudging at his mind. It urged cooperation. He shouldn’t have been surprised.
“What do you think I can do, that you can’t?”
Nothing alone. Together, perhaps something. You must call your friends. You must gather the forces of humanity, as I must gather dragonkind. Together, we may survive.
“You do know I’m grounded, don’t you? I’m not permitted to leave this planet.”
Silence was his only answer.
The dragon was gone to do his part. Dante must do the same. Even if he wasn’t allowed to leave Earth, there were a lot of other Mystics around.
He lurched to his feet, grabbed his coat, and slammed out of his office, almost running over a student in his haste. Despite his resistance, he could feel the urgency. Thanks to his dragon he was certain that if they were too slow, or if they failed, it would spell the end of all things. He muttered an apology to the student and broke into a run. He had to talk to the Secret Council.
***
Andrus steepled his hands. He looked at Dante over his fingertips. His expression hadn’t changed from the moment Dante barged into his office. He kept that same calm demeanor while Dante described the visitation in detail. He told Andrus about the dragon, what he’d seen, and the horrors that were on their way.
“We have to do something,” Dante repeated when he’d finished.
The Mystic had paced the whole time he told his story and, once finished, it was all he could do not to run frantically back and forth. He couldn’t sit. It took everything he had to stand in one place.
Andrus, sitting at his desk, merely raised his eyebrows. “Do we?” he asked.
“Yes! Call a meeting of the Council. We need to take this to Earth Fleet, Andrus. We’re talking about the future of everything and everyone in our universe. It will all be destroyed if we don’t do something.”
“And what are we to do? You’re talking about beings so powerful they can travel between universes. The only worlds we know are the Astral Plane and this one, Instructor Dante. The others are hypothetical, if they exist at all.”
“If they exist?”
Andrus shrugged one shoulder, his face a professional mask, but with a hint of impatience twitching about the corners of his mouth. Dante knew they’d never been friends, but Andrus was the only member of the Secret Council he knew well enough to call on. Andrus would be able to reach the rest, and they could get the E.F. to act. He was the only link Dante had to leadership now.
“Yes,” Andrus said. “Unfortunately, your word doesn’t carry much weight anymore. Funny how that works, isn’t it? Trust has to be earned.”
“You don’t believe me,” Dante said.
“You have no proof, not one scrap of evidence to support your claim. For all I know, this is another fabrication to get you off-planet to some kind of ridiculous prank,” Andrus said. “Of course I don’t believe you! You’re a liar and a turncoat.”
“I’ve never lied to you, Andrus,” Dante said. “I’ve only done what was best for everyone.”
“That was never up to you.” Dante gestured toward the door. “Close it on your way out, if you please.”
***
Dante had been on the Secret Council once; it lasted until he fused with a dragon a second time, but he knew how things worked. Its members were scattered across the globe, some on the other side of the galaxy. A single member couldn’t speak for all. If that was the case, they wouldn’t bother with a council.
There have been times one person might as well speak for the others. Andrus was an old curmudgeon, but he was well connected. If he dismissed Dante out of hand, it was because he was sure the rest of the Council would do the same.
Dante wasn’t ready to leave it at that. He used what connections he had to reach out to other Secret Council members, but it was too late. Andrus had spoken to them, and no one would listen to what Dante had to say.
He was forbidden from giving information to anyone outside the Mystics, not that he had anyone to turn to. Even if he went to the E.F., they knew his crimes. He could keep throwing himself at the wall, or he could wait for an opportunity to talk to someone who would listen.
If there was such a person. And if they’d come along before it was too late.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Julia stood by the crate of stolen goods, rifle in hand as if she were ready and willing to use it. It felt unspeakably heavy and not because of its weight. It was a versatile weapon, designed by the Tiel to destroy its target effectively as possible with shrapnel for ammunition. When set to automatic, it turned a living creature to hamburger in milliseconds. The device was made for killing and doing so in the most horrific way possible.
Holding the weapon made her queasy. And using it as an unspoken threat against their employer was sickening, which made it feel heavy, but she’d come to see it as necessary. The dark corners of the Milky Way were rife with people who wouldn’t think twice about picking an orphan’s pocket. She and her band had built up a certain reputation, yet people still tried to scam them as a matter of principle.
“Well? I know it’s all there,” Jack said.
He was playing front man, and the part suited him. He stood eye to eye with a Yeti and was nearly fluent in the trade-speech was used across species. Trying to speak another species’ language was a sign of submission, and on the galaxy’s bleeding edge, any sign of weakness spelled death. The accepted compromise was a language that borrowed from seven different species, using words pronounceable by all.
Julia couldn’t speak it but knew the lingo enough to follow the conversation. Her tongue refused to make the trills and controlled squeaks that made up half the language, so she settled for listening and letting charming Jack be their representative.
“There were two crates,” the Tiel said. “Two.”
The Tiel was a pathetic example of his species. Humans had nicknamed them after the tropical bird the Tiel resembled, with white feathers and a blade-like face that ended in a heavy beak. They had crests of all different colors, usually blue or violet, and dressed in a brilliant variety of patterns and shades. This one was drab and gray with a sickly green crest that stayed slicked back against its head. He looked ill or drugged.
“Nope,” Jack said. “Just the one, Ukuklo. We agreed on one, we brought you one. Pay up.”
Julia checked the safety on her weapon. It clicked loudly when she did that. Ukuklo glanced at her. His saucer-like eyes lingered on her cybernetic eye, then on her weapon. After a moment, his attention returned to Jack. Julia kept her lips pressed into a line the whole time, staring back to maintain the bluff.
Ukuklo bobbed his head and clacked his beak. “Maybe it was one. Maybe I remembered wrong,” he conceded.
“Maybe you did,” Jack agreed. He held out his hand, and credits exchanged hands. The Tiel and his companions loaded the crate onto a hover-cart and vanished into the passing crowd.
“I’m getting tired of these back-alley deals,” Jack said. He dropped his posturing and tossed the payment to Julia. At a glance, it looked legitimate, so she tucked it away. “Talking to that one makes me feel like I need a shower.”
“Same here,” Julia said. “You’re good at it, though. You’ve got the galactic scumbag act down to a science.”
“It’s a talent,” he said. “It all feels dirty, though. I don’t know what was in that box, and I don’t want to care, but I’m always afraid it’s guns or drugs or worse.”
“I know, but no legitimate businessman will deal
with a human out here. Our only choice is smuggling, mercenary work, or sitting in one place until E.F. catches us.”
“We’ve talked about it plenty,” he snapped, then looked sorry. “Look, I’m saying I don’t know how much longer I can do it.”
She slung her weapon and faced him. Normally, his body language gave nothing away. He stood up straight, smiled, and schmoozed his way into the next deal. He turned aliens who didn’t take them seriously into loyal customers. It was enough to get by, as long as they used their formidable reputations to keep customers paying. It meant scaring them sometimes, but it was what they had to do.
At present, Jack slouched, folding in on himself. If he was angry, it wasn’t with her. She put her hands on his shoulders and squeezed until he looked at her.
“I’m sorry, Jack,” she said. “If you can’t deal with it anymore, we’ll figure out something else. Barb’s been practicing her trade-speak too. She can sub in.”
“And then she has to be the con artist?” Jack asked, then held up his hands. “No, sorry. I know you’re just trying to help.”
“It’s okay. It’s a strain on everyone,” she said, letting her hands drop to her sides. “Let’s go home.”
***
Nirvana fit right in with the other ships in the Yard, the open ground outside Dust’s city walls. It was where a crew landed if they couldn’t afford a private dock or if they didn’t want to go through Customs. A few credits kept the local authorities looking the other way, so smugglers and thieves could make their deliveries without their cargo getting confiscated. For the right price, some officials even provided a fake manifest to pass unmolested through other ports.
When Julia reached their ship, like Jack, she was ready for a long hot shower. The dust that gave the city its name collected everywhere, from the creases in her ears to the spaces between her toes. It felt like the city’s corruption in physical form. Not that she should talk. She committed plenty of sins in the name of her crew’s freedom.
Coraolis was playing solitaire in the galley when she walked in. He dropped the cards to give her a hug as soon as she was through the door.
“Hey. You okay?” he asked.
“Just feeling guilty,” she said. “I’m getting you dirty.”
“Aw, you don’t have to feel guilty for that,” he quipped, but it was a weak joke. He kissed her forehead and stepped back. “The shipment was insured. It’ll be replaced, which is more than we can usually hope for.”
“I know. It doesn’t help me feel better, though.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
“Maybe later. Right now, all I want is a shower and time outside of this body.” She pulled the payment from her pocket and put it in his hand. “Can you take care of this for me?”
“Anything for my favorite merc,” he said. “Go get clean. I’ll be around when you want to talk.”
She rolled her eyes at getting called merc, but that was his way. He liked to tease and make light of things to make the burden easier to carry. She liked it. Today, she wondered if it was right to try and make themselves feel better. Maybe they should just live with the guilt.
It wouldn’t last forever, anyway. One day they’d find another nest. They’d find a way to channel the dragons’ knowledge and wisdom to the rest of the universe and destroy all the evil in the world. There’d be no more selfishness, no more greed, no more hate. And then, finally, they’d get to go home.
Those thoughts occupied her while she washed off the dust of the day and shook the cobwebs from her mind. She had work to do.
When she was clean and moderately refreshed, Julia entered their commune chamber. It was a cabin that had been cleared of furniture and covered in a spongy mat. There was enough space for three Mystics to sprawl across the floor after an exhaustion-inducing foray into the Astral Plane. She’d caught Jack napping in the chamber more than once.
Julia chose a spot in the center and sank to the floor, sitting cross-legged and facing the door. She breathed in as she closed her eyes, gathering her negative feelings and physical connections in a cloud of air. She exhaled, expelling them from her body and mind, her spirit following after.
Over the last few years, the Astral Plane had become a second home. She took a moment to soak in the feeling of freedom and take in its ever-changing beauty. The field of ships looked like a collection of scattered jewels on a velvet cloth and the city a crystalline formation streaked with crimson streaks and smudges of soot. It was beautiful despite—or maybe because of—the imperfections. She imagined how lovely it would be once they purified the hearts of everyone in it.
As much as she’d like to linger, she had a mission. She lifted off the ground and kept going until she was in low orbit. She paused, checked her bearings, then soared out and away from the system.
She rose above the ecliptic plane of the solar system as far as her will could carry her. When she felt resistance from the connection to her body, she stopped.
In the real world, this would be the true void, the space between solar systems that held nothing but dark matter. It felt warm and alive compared to the desolation of empty space. Swirls of color hovered in every direction, forming the shape of a sphere with Julia at its center. Each of those colorful lights represented another solar system, and one of them had to hold a dragon’s nest.
She picked one system out of the multitude and reached out. It was farther away than its size suggested. A good sign. A larger system had more to offer, and dragons might be more likely to nest there. She hoped.
As far as she stretched, she couldn’t quite reach the system. They’d need to get closer, and she hadn’t seen enough to take their spaceship closer. They had to travel in the direction of their work.
Disappointed, she withdrew and scanned for another target. She turned inward, reluctantly scanning Earth Fleet territory. She’d avoided this direction for a long time. Just sending her mind in that direction was a risk. She could stumble onto a Mystic’s senses, and give their position away.
She skimmed along the edge of human space, seeking the unique power of a dragon nest. This time, they would get their own dragons to argue in their favor. They were doing the right thing. Parents made decisions for their children, leaders made decisions for their followers. Those with the wisdom and power to help those who were weaker and less informed, were everywhere.
She wished Dante had seen that.
Something caught her attention, but it wasn’t a nest. They weren’t dragons or Mystics either, but the power of their presence was undeniable. Julia reached further, wanting to identify the threat if there was one, when her senses touched one of the creatures directly.
Her mental probe was met by a mind, one of many. She drew closer, curious despite herself. They were intent on their goal. Thoughts floated on the surface of their powerful minds. Images of a tear in the sky filled her mind, and a terrible hunger nearly overwhelmed her.
The nearest creature turned on her, snapping its blade-like teeth. Cold. She gasped out loud, pulling back as the creature turned and bit at the ether, trying to catch her in its jaws. Wounds opened on her astral body as it struck again, and this time she was too slow to dodge. Its fellows turned as well, making a wide circle that would put them between her and her body.
Her instincts said that was a very bad idea. She dropped out of the Astral Plane and into her body before they could close with her again. For the first time, the retreat back into her body felt too slow. Any moment the creatures would close with her, as hungry for her mind as they were for her astral form.
***
She shivered uncontrollably after she came out of her trance. Every part of her felt like it had been dipped in freezing water until her bones had turned to ice. She expected to see her breath when she exhaled. Her arm twinged. A long purple bruise twisted from shoulder to wrist, and it ached all the way down.
She stood slowly. It took all her willpower to convince her body it wasn’t frostbitten, that she could mo
ve. Once she was on her feet, she moved into the hallway, using the floor as support. She passed by the bunks and into the galley, where Cor, Jack, and Barbara were talking over steaming cups of coffee.
Cor was on his feet the moment he saw her. “Julia? Are you okay?” He reached for her, and she let him assist her to a chair. She still shivered with both cold and fear.
“What happened?” Barbara asked.
Julia shook her head. “I don’t know what it was. Something awful is out there. Whatever it is, it’s cold and hungry.”
“Hungry?” Coraolis looked at her. “For what?”
“Us. Life. Everything,” Julia shuddered again. “They’re after something, or I think they would have followed me here. Whatever it is, we need to stop it.”
“I don’t understand,” Jack said, his face twisted in confusion.
“I’m getting something from my dragon. He agrees,” Coraolis interjected. He put an arm around Julia as if that would drive the cold away. To her surprise, it helped.
“What is he telling you?” Julia asked.
“You found something very old. In many ways, they’re the opposite of dragons, but…I don’t know if even dragons are a match for these monsters. They killed at least one of the dragons already.”
“Then we’ll help them,” Barbara said. “What do we do?”
“You’re not going to like this. We might be the most powerful Mystics alive, but with only three of us, we’d be like moths versus a bug zapper. We need to get more Mystics together on this. Maybe all of them.”
“That would mean turning ourselves in,” Julia breathed.
“If we have to.”
She loved how he said that with no hesitation. He’d been a good man before he fused with a dragon; now he approached sainthood. She leaned into him, and he pulled her tightly into an embrace.
She didn’t want to face those things again, but she couldn’t turn her back on the threat they posed. A long time ago, she’d sworn an oath to protect the people of Earth. She might not be in Earth Fleet anymore, but she still held that vow sacred.
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