by TR Cameron
She was jolted back to her senses by the sound of Emalia’s scream. “Caliste, wake up. Fight or it will kill you!”
Chapter Nine
Cali scrambled back as the world tilted and spun crazily in her vision. Her body trembled and jolted in reaction to the magic that coursed through it. Pleasure followed pain and was succeeded by pain again in fast flashes. She collided with a solid wall and pushed her way up it as she squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again in an effort to bring something—anything—into focus.
When her eyes cleared, the monster in front of her was so unbelievable that she shook her head furiously to see if it would disappear. It didn’t but instead, poked its snout at the figure of her guardian, who was locked inside a shimmering magical cocoon that hovered an inch away from her skin. The creature turned its head toward her and revealed vertically slitted black pupils in irises of orange and gold over an elongated snout filled with teeth.
Its body was sinuous and strong, supported by four legs. A foot of space was visible between its belly and the ground, and Cali estimated it would rise to three feet along its back, possibly four with its long neck extended. Right now, that neck was stretched as the beast swayed toward her and its thick tail flicked from side to side with each step. Soft snorts emerged from its nostrils.
She pushed away from the wall, encouraged to discover she still possessed a measure of balance and stability as she sank into an aikido stance. Her lead foot now rested forward and the rear one at a ninety-degree angle with her weight centered. She lifted her front hand with the palm out. “Hey now, mister or miss, or whatever…uh, dragon, lizard…thing.” Great start, Cali. Offend it right off the bat. “There’s no need for this. In the immortal words of Will Smith, ‘My attitude is don’t start nothin, won’t be nothin’.” His advance paused as if he considered her suggestion but was clearly unmoved as he glided into motion again. “Okay, this is your last chance to avoid getting yourself hurt.”
The creature snarled, and she resisted the urge to retreat from the harsh sound. Her body began to feel like her own again, but different. Where before, her magic had seemed to lie in her core waiting to be drawn out for use, it now suffused her as if every cell had a new spark of power inside it. The moonlight shone upon the beast’s scales as it continued to advance, some of which seemed reflective and some not. She pointed. “Hey. You. Are you listening?”
It settled into a seated position like a cat and curled its tail around its body. Good, maybe we’re getting somewhere. For a second, it appeared ready to sneeze and its snout lowered before it raised again with an open mouth, the sharp teeth obvious and alarming. They weren’t as scary as the blast of sparkling mist that spewed out of its maw toward her, though.
Cali motioned quickly with her hand and a curved force shield materialized before her. The mist turned to ice on its surface and the rest flowed around her without effect. She stared at her arms, which were covered with unfamiliar arcane shapes and symbols glowing in fluorescent blue, green, gold, and orange. The creature closed its mouth, and the new markings faded with the shield.
“Okay. You had to try. I get it. I’ll give you that. But if you do it again, we’ll definitely tussle. I don’t know who you are. Hell, I don’t know what you are. But we can call this done.” She’d cast shields before but never so easily or with such stability. The lizard tilted his head like he understood her words but charged without warning.
She stilled as it surged in and defocused her eyes to see its whole body the way Sensei Ikehara had taught her. Sure enough, the rush was a feint, and it stopped and pivoted to strike from the side with its tail. It was an attempt to sweep her ankles, and she skipped over it with ease, circled away from it to lead the tail’s reverse slash, and forced the creature to keep turning to try to acquire her. She was loath to go on the offensive for any number of reasons. The beast was amazing, her kicks and punches probably wouldn’t work against it, and she wasn’t certain she could control her magic sufficiently to wound and not kill. Finally, the child within squealed with the desire to become friends and play with it.
Rather than press any kind of advantage, she retreated, which allowed the creature to finish its turn and face her. Before she could speak it attacked again with its head down and on a direct trajectory. Okay, buddy. So be it. When it came close, she jumped first to the left to make it miss, then to the right as she hurled her body upward to wrap her arms around his neck. She held on and her momentum flipped him over. His thrashing was too fierce for her to maintain her hold, and she scrambled away. He locked fiery eyes on her and she knew he was planning to breathe at her again. Nope. Not going to happen.
She slammed her closed fists together in front of her and the silver rings on her thumbs rang as they collided. Each hand made a downward curve in the opposite direction to create a shimmering half-circle in the air. It streaked forward and left a trail as it passed over the creature’s back, and its breath struck the half-cylinder of force as it snapped shut. The lizard banged against the surfaces surrounding it halfheartedly before it lowered onto its haunches and stared at her. Its snout moved weirdly and a strange muffled huffing reached her ears. Wait a minute. Is it laughing at me?
Cali put her hands on her hips and glared at it. “Are you laughing at me, you little…you little…uh, whatever?” Its snout lowered in what was clearly a nod. “So you totally can understand me.” Another nod confirmed it. “Fine. Let Emalia go.” It twisted its head to her guardian and the shimmering dissipated. The older woman stumbled forward and hurried across to her.
“Are you okay, Caliste?”
“Never better. What the hell is that thing and why did it attack me?”
Emalia walked around it, and the creature seemed pleased to be admired. It showed no sign that being held captive bothered it. “I never imagined I’d see one. When I left New Atlantis, all the adults had died and the next generation were still in their eggs. It’s a Draksa.” She said it reverentially.
“Awesome. And a Draksa is what?”
“The best way to describe them is a cross between a lizard and a dragon. Some are more of one, while some are more of the other. When the dragon side is ascendant, they are fiercely intelligent. When the lizard side is dominant, they are less smart but far more aggressive.”
Cali laughed. “So this is probably one of the dumb ones, then?” She was shocked to see both Emalia and the creature in the cylinder glare at her. “What?”
“If it had wanted to kill you, it could have done it before you had a chance to react. Both of us, actually. The fact that it didn’t suggests it had something else in mind. Thus, it’s intelligent.”
That inspired a frown. “Attacking me is a weird way to say hi.”
The older woman shrugged. “Perhaps it was testing you to see how you’d react. Maybe, if you’d tried to kill it instead of trying to talk, it would have killed you outright.”
She turned to the creature. “So, can we call a truce here?” His mouth parted in something that looked like a smile—a very sharp toothy smile. This is a bad idea. She let the power fall away and the Draksa stood and shook itself. It had kept its wings in during the short battle but unfurled them now to flick dirt from its scales.
Her guardian moved to stand beside her and watch. “They change genders more than once during their lifetime for unknown reasons. This one is between. You can tell by the scales. Metallic and shiny are male, to attract a mate. Matte is female because we don’t need to show off.”
“So how do I refer to it?”
“I have no idea. You’ll have to ask the Draksa.”
Cali shook her head. “Why is it here?”
“Again, I have no idea. You’ll have to ask the Draksa.”
She laughed. “Is that the only thing you’ll say for the rest of the night?” As the first syllable came out, she put a hand over her mentor’s mouth. “Okay, thanks, I got it. You can toddle along now.”
Emalia chuckled. “Oh, there’s no chance of t
hat. I can’t wait to see what happens.”
The girl rolled her eyes. “Can I get you popcorn? Soda?”
“If you would, that would be lovely.”
Sigh. She approached the dragon lizard and knelt in the dirt before it so her eyes were level with its own. “I’m Cali.” It nodded and seemed to be waiting. “Um, are you here because of me specifically?” It nodded again. “Because of the spell we cast?” She lifted the necklace to show the pendants and blinked in surprise at the discovery that they had become a single two-sided object with no visible seam.
The creature tilted its head to the side. She took that as the Draksa version of “meh.” With a frown, she tried again. “Did the spell itself summon you magically?” It shook its head. “Did you notice the magic, then? Were you here?” A nod. “You live in the cemetery?” Another nod.
She twisted to shoot a glare at Emalia. “Seriously, will you be of any use at all?”
The woman chuckled. “Try asking it if it plans to come home with you.”
Cali laughed at first, then realized she was serious. “Uh, right. Sure. Tonight is already beyond weird, so why not?” She turned to the creature. Its gaze locked on hers and the depths of them stole her breath for a minute. “Okay, Draksa. Would you like to come home with me? My apartment is small but we can find a way to make it work. I imagine it’ll be better than living here.”
It nodded, looked regal, and pushed onto its feet with a flutter of wings, obviously ready to depart. She stood as well. “May I…uh, touch you?” It nodded again. She put her hand on its back and felt its intentions clearly—the pineapple taste of goodwill tempered with the faint lingering cinnamon burn that conveyed mischievousness. At the moment of contact, her arms had begun to glow and the neon of her magical markings spread out to its scales until their colors matched. She hissed a sharp intake of breath. “Whoa.”
Emalia’s voice from behind her was reverential. “You’re bonded. It offered magic, and yours was accepted. I’ve only ever heard about it in fairy tales as the bondings of the last generation of Draksa happened before my time.”
She turned in alarm. “What does that mean?”
Her mentor shook her head with an incredulous laugh as if she couldn’t believe it either. “Till death do you part, Caliste.”
Cali’s mouth dropped open but as it was only one in a chain of incredible events for the day, it didn’t overwhelm her. “Awesome.” She spun to face the creature. “Do you want to be called he and him, since there’s a touch more metal on your scales?” It made the laughing sound again and bobbed its snout. “Fine. I always imagined having a cat named Whiskers but somehow, I think you’d see a cat more as a snack than a friend. So, how about I call you that instead?”
He glared at her, and she wracked her brain for other names. “Skittles.” His snout shifted from side to side. “Midnight.” He twisted his head to indicate his brilliant scales. “Got it. Fyre.”
After a moment’s consideration, he nodded and turned to walk toward the exit, clearly expecting her to follow. I’ll never be able to tell anyone about this day. Even Dasante would lock me in a padded room for my own good. And then Fyre would eat the key.
Chapter Ten
Tanyith was back on the roof across from The Shark Nightclub. His purpose there was to watch those who came and went and note who talked to who before they vanished into the building’s hidden interior. His scrying tricks had been defeated by the establishment’s defensive wards. He’d known it would have such protections but had still needed to make the attempt and had covered his tracks carefully to avoid being backtracked.
The patterns were familiar, the same as when he’d been part of the Atlantean gang working out of a different club. But in his day, they’d gone out to watch over the streets and to look for newcomers and help them acclimate. Admittedly, they’d skirted the edges of the law to pull money away from those who made it with gambling and homemade alcohol and the occasional grift on wealthy tourists, but nothing like what was happening now.
He’d spent his waking hours following the street soldiers for two days, and he was reasonably sure he had a good grasp of the operation. Cash was laundered through the nightclub and it served as the gang’s base of operations. Tendrils extended from this hub through the city for three purposes he’d identified. First—and still—gambling. Second, homemade alcohol he took no issue with, and illegal drugs he absolutely did have a problem with. Third, and most concerning, they were running a protection racket. It was obvious from the looks of the shop owners as they peered after the gang members to ensure the soldiers had departed and to see who else might be under their thumb.
The new crew was engaged in all the things he had campaigned against in the old one, constantly fighting and refighting the same uphill battle. While he was away, his side had lost. It wasn’t hard to imagine there was some cause and effect in play. Or, more accurately, some “getting the troublemaker out of the way before we do what we’re going to do.” Surveillance was the only investigative tool he had at the moment but so far, he hadn’t recognized anyone among those entering or leaving.
There seemed to be a different group of people handling each of the gang’s efforts. The toughest ones strong-armed shop owners and the weakest spread through the city to gather bets. If it was anything like a couple of years before, wagers would be accepted on everything from the Saints score to the number of drunks who would collapse unconscious on the unforgiving concrete of Bourbon street in a given timeframe.
When a set of toughs emerged, he followed. An hour of preparation had acquainted him with the rooftops and how they connected, and it only took an occasional burst of magic to carry him over the gaps he couldn’t jump. It would work until they reached a main cross-street or residential district when he’d have to descend and be more careful. He was confident in his ability to keep track of them and only slightly less assured of being able to deal with them if things went awry.
They’d almost reached Canal street, the Southwest boundary of the French Quarter, when the four Atlanteans stopped suddenly, blocked by an equal number of men who looked fully human. Tanyith crouched and whispered a spell that would bring their words to him.
The biggest human was clearly the leader. He stood ahead of the others with his arms folded over his chest. The most notable thing about him was the fact that he wore a suit in the New Orleans heat, as did the rest of his people. One of the Atlanteans, notably not the biggest, stepped forward to meet him and they exchanged nods before the human spoke.
“You’ll have to turn back, friend. Everything east of Canal is ours.”
The Atlantean laughed. “No chance. The quarter’s disputed territory. You know this. I know this. Hell, my grandmother knows this, and she’s not even in the game.”
His counterpart shrugged. “If you continue, your personal safety cannot be assured.”
Another laugh followed. “When is it ever? You choose to play, you choose the risks. The same goes for you, friend.”
The humans spread out a little, ready for whatever came next, and the Atlanteans mirrored them. The two spokespeople merely stared at one another. Finally, the suited man nodded. “Your call. I’ve passed the message as I was instructed to do. I will let Mr Grisham know of your response and I’m sure he’ll have his own to share with you in the near future.”
Tanyith watched the humans move away with the acrid taste of fear in the back of his throat. His gang had always—always—been smart enough to respect the streets claimed by the long-established crime boss of New Orleans. The encounter meant that one or the other of the gangs, and perhaps some of the smaller ones in town, were pushing to expand their territory. Damn. This could blow up into a war for control of the city.
Even dazed by the alarming revelations, he’d managed to follow them on foot without betraying his surveillance. They made a few stops along the way but appeared to be headed somewhere in particular. A drink here, a conversation there, and maybe a cash pickup at a s
ouvenir shop, but they seemed like waypoints leading to a definite destination.
They emerged from the quarter as the sun surrendered and night spread across the streets. He lost sight of them when they turned an unfamiliar corner and when he followed, the street was empty. Irritated, he looked up at an old-fashioned wooden sign with dragons on it and shook his head. The tavern had been there in his day, but his gang had stayed away from it, even for socialization. Rumor had it that the bartender was not someone you messed with if you wanted to keep all your limbs intact, and every tale was bigger than the next. Still, it seemed like fate had lent a hand to bring him to the place he’d planned to visit anyway.
Tanyith took a deep breath and pushed the door open. It banged against the wall and made him cringe. He shook his head sheepishly at all the annoyed faces that turned his way. The entrance was in a corner and directly ahead was a sturdy polished wood bar that curved on both ends. High seats were strung along it. Behind them was a large room filled with long wooden tables butted up against each other with a mismatch of chairs and stools and benches on either side. Arched doorways with bead curtains were set left, middle, and right on the back wall.
Beyond the far end of the bar, there seemed to be a walled-off space that held a kitchen or storage or something. On the near end, a dwarven face stared at him and watched him survey the area. He crossed to take the seat across from the impressively bearded fellow. “Hey.”
“Hey yourself. Welcome to the Drunken Dragons Tavern, first-timer. What’ll ya have?”
“Dealer’s choice.”
The dwarf nodded, selected a short, curved glass, and filled it from a small cask that sat at his right hand. He placed the drink on the bar—amber with a thin layer of foam. “This is a sipping beer. My own recipe.”
