by Al K. Line
"Kate, you need to move as little as possible," warned Faz as he put his hands on my shoulders and circled me, pausing behind my back.
"Why? I'm okay." Faz came back in front and I got scared. He was crying, and he was trying not to, and I knew it wasn't because he was hurting physically. "What's wrong?" It was only then, as I tried to take stock of my body, that I realized my back was screaming.
As the other damage repaired, the pain came into focus and then it was gone, and then it was too much to bear and I fell into my husband's arms. The last thing I saw was my beautiful home burning, skeletal trusses reminding me that nothing was permanent, everything ended.
Dark Times
When I woke I was hot, burning up. My stomach felt ready to burst, my wrist kept clicking, my hip had decided to relocate halfway up my body, my leg throbbed, and my back, well, it hurt so much I don't know where to start.
I was sitting up, held there by Faz and Mithnite. They were staring at our ruin of a house. The roof was gone now, half the walls had crumbled, black stone laid centuries ago holding up as best it could to the inferno that had raged within. Faz's jaw was set in anger, his eyes burned more fiercely than our home, and Mithnite just looked sad, really sad.
He'd felt safe here, had finally found a place to call home, and now it was gone. I felt the same, but I knew it wasn't a building that made a home, it was the people who occupied it. This was just property, and random belongings. Not us, not our family.
I shivered despite the heat, and they turned away from the fire to check on me. Smiling weakly, I said, "Is my back okay?" I didn't need to ask about the baby, I knew he was fine. I smiled at that. It was a he, I was sure about it.
"What's so funny?" asked Faz.
"It's a boy. God help us all. Another man to mess up the kitchen."
Faz and Mithnite exchanged glances and then they were cuddling me, shaking hands, Mithnite congratulating Faz, like he had anything to do with it!
"A boy, that's awesome," said Faz, brimming with happiness. "And he's okay?"
"I don't know what the little guy's up to, what with him being a few days old, but yeah, he's fine." With that I cramped up again and as I bent forward I felt something tear across my back. Skin, my own skin. It split, I was splitting. Why wasn't I healing?
"We have to leave, and right now," said Faz, scanning the area, eyes darkening, looking stressed and worried like I'd never seen before.
"Where?" I asked.
"I made a call. Come on, it's time to go." Faz turned to the house and I watched as a strong gust of wind fanned the flames back to life for a moment before the pressure changed and it was as though the air grew too heavy to allow the fire to keep burning. As the gust passed, the fire was gone, just the smoke and the rain that hadn't been up to putting out the conflagration but would douse the rest of the fire easily enough.
Mithnite looked up into the sky, which was odd, as there was enough happening down here on the ground. He smiled, then whooped. Faz did the same, and then they hauled me carefully to my feet and walked me away from so many memories. House, home, safety, all gone.
"What are you doing? Where are we going?"
"You'll see."
And I did. I soon understood what the gust of wind had been, why they'd been staring skyward. As we turned around and walked from the house, a huge, indistinct shape with two points of green light up high loomed out of the dusky light, and for a moment I recoiled as fire belched. Then I felt rather than heard a deep rumble coming from within the strange creature, and despite everything I smiled.
"Delilah," I whispered.
"She's the fastest way out of here," said Faz with a smile.
"We're gonna ride a dragon again," said Mithnite, hardly able to contain his excitement even though our world had just been destroyed.
"Maybe," said Faz, as his eyes snapped to black and he shoved me behind him as white lightning split the air and magic sizzled. He took a direct hit to the chest and was knocked back, only avoiding me as Mithnite had the sense to yank me aside at the last moment.
Seven men emerged from the cover of rain and smoke, silhouetted against the building that had begun to burn yet again, like there was no end to the destruction.
As Faz cried out in pain and tore at what little remained of his shirt and jacket, the ground shook behind us and a huge head appeared between me and Mithnite, the heat coming from inside the mouth incredible.
A cat-like green eye blinked lazily then looked directly at me and winked. We were shunted aside as the huge beast lumbered forward and unnatural, bone-melting fire belched from the mouth of the woman brave enough to set up shop next to the mighty Madge.
Delilah, but not as most knew her.
The Dragon roared and hell came to rural paradise.
An Inner Fire
The dragon scuttled forward, agile and beautiful, its body larger than the house I'd spent so many eventful years in, and we were gently brushed aside by her huge scaled flanks as she met the attackers head-on. She roared again and belched out fire hotter than an imp's bath water, scorching all in her path, moving her head slowly left to right, incinerating everything like a magic flamethrower. Two of them were nothing but ash moments later.
The surviving wizards, for I knew that's what they were, screamed, and bolts of forked magic shot back at the beast but they splashed off her scaled, scarred, glimmering hide like water. Then all was silent and the dragon turned it's long neck so she faced us. She mewled a little when she saw the state of me, then glanced at Faz still out of it on the floor.
My husband, he looked so frail, so weak, so broken and so very, very dead. I could see no movement, saw no rising chest, and my world truly crumbled. Delilah picked him up between her monstrous teeth and placed him on her back. In a daze, I let Mithnite lead me up Delilah's body using the scales as hand and foot holds, and when we were on the top, Faz held in place between us, his feet and hands wedged in tight, the body moved.
First it was slow, then she was moving fast, then the massive wings like the sails of an ancient ship flapped lazily and we rose above the little patch of cleared land that was our home. Delilah swooped low and scoured the area with fire; wizards screeched and then we were gone from this place of sadness and destruction.
I turned away. I'd never return here.
We flew toward the city as bolts of magic flared all around us from those who would do us harm.
A Blank Spot
The next hour or so is a blur. I only found out later how I happened to be in Grandma's living room, along with Faz, Mithnite, and Delilah. She was human again, what with it being a rather small living room by human standards let alone dragon.
After Mithnite made a call and told Grandma what was happening, Delilah had dropped us as close as she dared. Delilah's veil was strong, very strong, and if anybody had seen, not that you could see anything with the storm raging and the rain coming down in sheets, we would have looked like three manic people coming in for a gentle landing on a para glider. Hardly any creature can veil to become an inanimate object. Delilah has mad skills.
Grandma sent out several witches to collect us all and then ushered them out of the house so she could help. It was about this time I became aware of what was happening, and I wish I hadn't. My whole back was on fire, like the skin had melted through to the bone and was being gnawed on by something foul. Which wasn't far from the truth. Whatever had been used to make the bomb had some seriously nasty stuff added, magic stuff, that burned and chewed through anything it made contact with, that thing being my body.
"Drink this," ordered Grandma, grim-faced and yet holding my gaze as only steadfast women like her can do.
"Sorry I didn't come visit sooner," I mumbled, then drank the foul potion. It hit my system like acid, burned the small part of me that didn't hurt, until my entire body turned puce and I felt like I was about to burst through my skin.
I took it, let it do whatever it wanted, and tried to force my ink to activate and t
he Hidden magic inside to help me heal. All I got was an extra hard stomach cramp for my troubles. Before I blacked out, I noted with distant interest that Faz was stripped to the waist and Grandma was packing the gaping wound in his chest with something green and slimy. He wasn't dead! My heart sang and then all was darkness.
When I came around this time, Delilah, Mithnite, and Grandma were talking fast and quiet, glancing at me nervously. I remained where I was, lying on my side on the sofa. Grandma's face turned from concern to anger to fury as their discussion became animated. I couldn't hear well, the ringing constant, but caught snippets of talk about babies and wizards and ghouls and the like.
Grandma got up and replaced the mess of goop on Faz's chest. The wound already looked better, if you can call red-raw and visible ribs better. At least we'd survived, that was the main thing.
I put a hand to my belly and searched inside to check on the little fella, but I couldn't connect, felt nothing.
"He's okay," said Delilah from the chair. "Nothing to worry about."
"You sure?" I asked, feeling like I was gonna throw up.
"We're both sure," said Grandma. "You took a nasty tumble, and your back is grazed, so the nerves and whatnot are having a struggle to regenerate. Just stay still, you'll be fine in a while." Only Grandma could call what happened a nasty tumble, and the injury a graze, but she's been around a while and Faz gets into bother on a regular basis.
"How is he?" I asked, looking for signs of movement from my husband.
"Just a flesh wound," said Grandma offhand, but she looked concerned, couldn't hide it from me and didn't try.
"He's some trouble, right?" I said, smiling weakly.
"A very naughty boy," agreed Grandma.
Then I was out again.
A Gathering
"Boulder Junior told not let Kate out of sight. Boulder do what Head say."
"But there isn't room, you stupid lump of rock," screeched Grandma. "Look at my wall!"
Boulder Junior turned his head like a mountain shifting on tectonic plates and glanced away whilst still keeping one eye on me. "It not wall."
"That's the point, you oversized pebble." Grandma tugged at her housecoat in frustration.
"What point? Not wall, just pile of bricks." The troll turned his full attention back to me.
"Only because you walked through it, you feeble excuse for a door stop." Grandma shoved at the troll who was standing inside the doorway, ex doorway, amid a pile of brick and plaster, but she'd have had better luck trying to push her house over.
"Your door too small. Why humans always have small doors? Stupid. Not good arkitic… architechy… arci…um… It bad design."
"But this isn't a damn cave, it's a house for humans."
"Like Boulder Junior said, bad archy—"
"Oh, for crying out loud. Just don't move, you'll bring the whole building down on us otherwise." Grandma stepped away from the goon bodyguard and her expression changed from frustration to concern as she saw I was awake. She sat next to me on the edge of the sofa and said, "How you doing, love? Feeling any better?"
"Um, I think so. What's happening?"
"You've been out for an hour or so, but the potion worked, of course. You're on the mend."
I searched inside and she was right. My back felt better, my hip, leg, wrist, head, and hearing were almost back to normal, and the baby, he was jumping about like a baby elephant. "He's okay? Is he, is he going to be a… What's happening? Am I going to give birth to a monster? Is he something strange and… Ugh, I keep thinking of Alien. Something's going to burst from me and—"
"Hush, it's all right. Everything's fine. It's just magic, that's all, love. Does funny things to some women."
"Grandma, I love you, and I would never be rude to you, but what the fuck?"
This dear old lady who I love more than life itself stared at me, aghast. I don't think anyone had ever spoken to her like that before and she went from anger, to shock, to rage, to calm. The calm was the most frightening of all. "One time, you get this one time to say such a thing. I'll put it down to you being a little confused and scared, but you don't talk to family like that. You don't talk to me like that. Ever."
"Yes, Grandma. No, Grandma. Sorry, I don't know what I'm doing." Then I began to cry, which was lame, but I didn't know what was happening, if my baby was a monster, if my husband was all right, if anything would ever be normal again.
"Hush, child. Grandma's here."
"And Boulder Junior," said Boulder Junior. He shifted his arm, and more wall fell out into what was once the hall and was now just part of the living room.
"It's about time you made this room larger," I said to Grandma as I smiled and she cuddled me. She smelled of lavender and death. A heady mix if ever there was one.
Faz stirred and I wiped my face and focused through the tears, forcing myself not to cry again. He had a terrible red burn mark on his chest, raw and angry, but the muscle was back, and no bones were evident, which was reassuring. His skin was criss-crossed with old wounds, scars and welts and other signs of being an enforcer for so many decades, but, as usual, it was the ink that made you stare.
It was going kinda crazy. The beautiful patterns made by a master squirmed with life. They were fat and they were moving, an optical illusion because of the magic that flowed in pulsing waves, writhing around his body, converging at the site of the wound where they were bloated and sparkling as the effervescent power worked overtime to heal him.
His body grew thinner before our eyes as magic consumed his scant reserves of energy, but he'd be okay. We'd be okay.
Mithnite seemed absolutely fine, although he too was stripped down to the waist and had dark burn marks on his back. He was a youngster though, in his prime, and his magic was as powerful as it had ever been. If anything, he was brighter and even a little intimidating.
Watching him standing there, concerned for us, I took in his body, something I hadn't seen much of as he was shy about such things, having not long emerged from being an awkward teenager.
He was broad of chest now, with a decent six pack, and wide shoulders that hinted at power. His tattoos were alive and itching for a fight, making his muscles appear pumped and large as the ink writhed like blood-engorged veins, keening to blast the dark arts and get revenge on those who had done us harm.
And who had tried to kill us? Who had destroyed our home and nearly our lives? Who had tried to kill my baby?
Anger took me then and I shot off the sofa, incandescent with rage that threatened to overwhelm me and turn me feral.
I whirled in a frenzy, my body surged with dangerous powers I was a hair's breadth away from losing control of, and I think if I'd been anywhere but there I wouldn't have been able to control myself.
Everyone backed away, not that there was anywhere to go, and even Boulder Junior took a step sideways, dislodging the last of the bricks in the wall.
"Will he be okay?" I asked Grandma through gritted teeth.
"He will."
"Will I?"
"If you don't do anything stupid."
"Will the baby?"
"Kate," said Delilah stepping forward. "The baby is something unique, born of magic. None of us expected this, it's unheard of, but he's fine."
"That's all I needed to know," I said, feeling the violence coming on again, this time knowing I'd be unable to stop it.
"No," shouted Grandma, and she never, ever raised her voice. "What you need to know is who did this. And why?"
"Damn, you're right. Okay, so who was it?"
"Wizards," said Grandma.
"Wizards," agreed Delilah.
"Wizards," said Boulder Junior with a nod of the head and an expansive wave of the arm.
"Will you stop knocking my bloody house down," screeched Grandma as brick went flying.
"Got orders."
"Right, if you've got orders, and I know who did this, or not who exactly but where to start, then follow me."
I stepped ove
r the rubble, marched outside, and stood panting on the pavement at the front of Grandma's. Boulder Junior was right beside me, and I wondered how he got in and out of the house without breaking down the front wall.
Delilah came out, silhouetted like an angel against the warm light from within, and she sashayed up to me. Yes, she really does sashay, and it's sexy and mesmerizing.
"Fancy a lift?" she asked with a smile.
"Boy, do I."
Hang On
Even dragons have their limits, and Delilah was close to hers. Hardly surprising when she was having to cope with the weight on her back, and no, I don't mean me with my expanding belly.
Boulder Junior was several tons of pure rock, igneous, metamorphic, or maybe sedimentary, I'm not much of a petrologist. As I hung on for dear life, Delilah's powerful, burning hot body soared then dipped then soared then dipped, the immense leathery wings alternately gliding then flapping with supernatural power as she frantically fought to gain the altitude she lost.
The troll kept shifting his weight, and every time he did so the dragon had to readjust or we'd be toppled sideways. It was a long fall, especially for a human. Boulder Junior would be fine, of course, what with being made of rock, and Delilah would have a very literal weight off her back without her wriggling cargo, but falling from a great height down onto the city below is not good for vampire enforcers, especially those of the more-pregnant-by-the-minute kind.
My anger flared as the bloody troll kept squirming and saying, "No like being in sky," or giving words of wisdom such as, "If troll meant to fly would have wings," and I honestly couldn't be bothered to point out that if he had wings he'd still be a bloody big rock so it wouldn't make any difference. In minutes we were over open countryside and Boulder Junior seemed to relax a little, even began to make grunting noises I assumed were of pleasure, but I felt no happiness, just anger that roiled and burned and seared my heart black and cold.
