Dragon Blood: A Heartblaze Novel (Tyler's Saga Book 1)

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Dragon Blood: A Heartblaze Novel (Tyler's Saga Book 1) Page 7

by Shay Roberts


  For the last part of the trip, I sit up beside Ms. Luvalle. She's already into her second set of batteries for the Game Boy, but she seems content to set it aside when I speak.

  "I have some questions about time travel."

  She nods. "Go ahead."

  "You're not a dracoform, so how can you do it?"

  "It's a rare gift, but some people are born with it. It's like being psychic, or having an eidetic memory."

  "Why did you join Specta Aeternal?"

  Her face grows grim. "Because I was a victim of temporal abuse."

  "I'm not sure what that means."

  "When harm comes to someone as a result of time travel."

  "What would be an example of that?"

  "Well, in my case, my father made me jump into the future and scout sports events. When I returned, he would place bets. I thought he loved me, and that he needed the money to support our family, but it turns out he was spending it on high-end prostitutes. I ran away from home."

  "That really sucks. Why didn't your time police bust him?"

  "Specta Aeternal doesn't possess godlike powers. We can sense ruptures, but temporal abuse is difficult to detect and manage. Most minor offenses go unpunished, and that would include my father's crimes. There are much worse people out there, people trying to destroy whole countries, even humanity itself. SA is the only thing standing in their way."

  "Your group could have gone back in time and stopped the Great Depression, the rise of Hitler, and 9/11. Why didn't you?"

  Her eyes widen in surprise. "You know, I posed that exact same question to my Academy mentor, Professor Southam. He said that it isn't our job to prevent tragedies, only to prevent manipulation of the timeline. Societies learn from their tragedies as well as their triumphs. If I went through your life and edited out every bad thing that happened to you, you wouldn't be the man you are today."

  "That's true, but maybe I'd be a better man."

  She shakes her head. "No. In the old days, we actually tested these things. In a life devoid of suffering, a person usually becomes more fragile, more vulnerable, and has fewer accomplishments. It's the same with civilization as a whole. Suffering is a gift, Tyler. Examine your own life and see if that isn't true."

  Her words are giving me a headache. This is not stuff I like to think about.

  I return to the back of the plane, unable to sleep for the rest of the flight.

  The Arba Minch of twenty years ago doesn't look that different. The airport is smaller and more run-down, and the roads are in worse condition, but I can still find my way around.

  The most disappointing thing is the absence of the Paradise Lodge, which hasn't been built yet. We have dinner at another hotel, but it just isn't the same.

  I share a room with the bodyguard, who still refuses to speak, and in the morning we all set off for the shrine.

  I should stop calling it the shrine. Ayana made it clear that her people destroyed the Coptic shrine and hid the dragon bones. So, what do I call Ayana's underground lair? Temple of Doom might be a little over the top. Maybe just the temple.

  Our driver, one of the locals, speaks English surprisingly well. He's fairly chatty on the trip, and fills us in on the history of the area, including the recent civil war.

  After a hard day of driving, much of it off-road, we arrive at the site. The hill above the temple looks exactly like it will twenty years from now. Will it look the same in 540 CE? I doubt it.

  We leave the driver to wait for us and hike out to an area where we have some privacy. The bodyguard looks a little silly wearing a suit out here, but I don't feel inclined to mention that to him.

  Ms. Luvalle explains that while I'm in the sixth century, no time will pass here, so I can complete all of my Hwedoist training and then return here to ride back to Arba Minch. That's kind of a mind-blowing concept. If I stay in the past long enough, I could return here an old man, and our driver wouldn't even recognize me.

  Ms. Luvalle squeezes my arm. "Are you ready, Tyler?"

  I nod, nervous. For some reason, I can't think of anything witty to say. It occurs to me that I don't have the amulet anymore, and the cult mentors I'm hoping to train with won't be able to light up my gems. Unless they have a spare amulet, that means I won't be able to open the dragon vault. Will they still want to train me?

  The three of us join hands and Ms. Luvalle gives out instructions. "In a moment, you'll feel like you're falling. Don't close your eyes, even if it seems like things around you are speeding up. When we arrive in 540 CE, things may still be moving in fast motion for a few moments. Don't try to move until I let go of your hand. Once we're there, our bodies will be sore, and I'll need to rest a day or two before I can jump again. Any questions?"

  I feel like I have a thousand questions, but I can't express a single one. I thought this would be exciting, but for some reason, I'm feeling anxious. All I can think to say is, "Let's do this."

  Ms. Luvalle nods, and suddenly, I feel like I'm falling.

  Moments later, the three of us are standing in an inch of snow, under a smoky sky. Something's wrong. December has the nicest weather in Ethiopia. There shouldn't be snow here.

  Maybe we used the wrong calendar. Maybe it was Julian, not Gregorian. That might explain the snow, but not the smoke in the sky.

  What the hell is going on?

  Astakomakaronada

  ALEXANDER ARGYROS

  Our team enters the underground structure. It smells like a dusty road. We pass a wall fresco depicting Aido-Hwedo, one of the dragons illustrated in Draco Historia. As a rare time-traveling dragon, he is quite dangerous. I quickly realize this isn't a Coptic shrine, it's a dragon temple.

  My team is tense about what we might encounter, but it soon becomes apparent that the temple's evil worshippers have recently fled. In a stone room with a wooden bench, we find a bowl of stew that's still warm.

  If they fled overland, I don't see how we could have missed them. I suspect they escaped in time. Whether into the past or future, I cannot say. We must look for clues.

  As we begin a meticulous search of the temple, I consider what Tyler Buck must have encountered when he arrived here. He was expecting a Coptic shrine with dragon bones free for the looting and likely encountered a group of hostile dragon fanatics. Perhaps they killed him, or perhaps he escaped. It doesn't matter. He's no longer the focus of my investigation. I must find these vile fanatics, and exterminate them.

  Four hours into our search, Snedeker discovers a pair of scrolls that have fallen into a recess behind a stone table. I don't recognize the language they're written in, but I hope KoR Cultural Services can translate them. Perhaps the scrolls will help us find the dragon worshippers.

  By the end of the day, I'm satisfied there's nothing else of value here. As much as I'd like to set demolition charges, we may need to return here at some point, so it's best to leave the temple intact.

  It's time for the interminable journey back to America.

  Upon our return to Newport, I bring the team over to my apartment for my specialty dish, Astakomakaronada, a lobster pasta, which I serve with two bottles of Areti White.

  After a mission, it's important to decompress, and even more important to make sure everyone on the team is coached on the wording of their after action reports. Over the years, I've learned that food makes people surprisingly flexible in these matters.

  As I sauté the onions, I hear Spero out in the living room, refereeing an arm wrestling contest between Snedeker and Kaplan. They had better not knock anything over.

  I add some garlic and basil and think about what manner of poisons I keep in the apartment. I need something that will incapacitate, but not kill them. And I don't want anything that will sully their blood. It seems I don't have anything useful on hand. Perhaps I should slip out to the drugstore.

  Curse that infernal device! It has its teeth in me again. These are not my thoughts. Killing the whole team is madness. I really must renew my soul armor.


  We eat dinner in the dining room. It has a black-and-white-tiled floor that I've always found oddly comforting. Perhaps it reminds me of something from my childhood.

  As we dine, we discuss the reports we intend to file, and all proceeds well. I don't mention my suspicions that the dragon fanatics escaped into time. The less said about time travel, the better. I would only trust Snedeker with such secrets, and even that would be a risk.

  After the meal, no one thanks me for my culinary efforts. Barbarians. I should have thrown them dog bones.

  As they leave, I task Spero with stopping by Fort Adams and submitting the scrolls to Cultural Services for translation. The scrolls are important, and it's useful to make a demonstration of trust in Spero. Snedeker looks hurt that he wasn't asked.

  The errand Spero is running ensures that I will reach her apartment before she does. This will be a night of reckoning for our pernicious little mole.

  Only half of the Fort Adams staff lives on base. Spero rents a guest house in Middletown, just northeast of Newport. I've had it bugged for several months now, along with the apartments of my other team members. Spero has been careful not to discuss her treachery while at home, but I've determined that she has no roommate or boyfriend to spoil my plans.

  I arrive well before her and enter using a copy of her key. I'm wearing gloves to avoid leaving fingerprints. Spero has no dog or security system, so I'm expecting this operation to go smoothly. I'll simply wait for her in a shadowy corner and shoot her with my dart gun when she returns home. Then I'll whisk her unconscious body back to my apartment for the feeding. Two birds with one stone. I'll be rid of my mole, and I'll charge the chronomichani.

  My stomach gurgles and I recognize the onset of diarrhea. I refuse to believe there was anything wrong with my Astakomakaronada. I must have picked up a bug in Ethiopia.

  I should be well ahead of Spero, so I decide to take off my gloves and risk using her toilet. A plastic tulip sits in a vase atop the toilet tank. It's a bit gauche, but it does liven up the bathroom.

  After using the toilet, I wash my hands. It occurs to me that I can't leave fingerprints, so I put my gloves back on and use a wad of toilet tissue to wipe down all the surfaces I touched.

  After flushing the wad of toilet paper, I look for a deodorizer spray to reduce the odor. And of course, she doesn't have any. Outrageous. I'll bet Snedeker has deodorizer spray in his bathroom.

  The bathroom window is small and high, almost like a transom. It's out of my reach, so I step up on the clothes hamper. As I try to wrench open the stiff window, I hear footsteps and jerk my head around. Spero stands in the doorway of the bathroom!

  There's no way she could have arrived here so quickly after delivering the scrolls to Cultural Services. She must have offloaded the errand to someone else.

  Drat. My bad luck has struck again.

  Spero raises her Glock.

  "Hello, Colonel. My stomach is bothering me too. I think it was your lobster pasta."

  I hear her gun fire as I leap down from the window.

  Emerald Mentor

  TYLER BUCK

  I stand in an inch of snow, under a smoky Ethiopian sky, my body sore from time traveling.

  Ms. Luvalle lets go of our hands, and the bodyguard stretches his arms as he looks around for trouble.

  I turn to Ms. Luvalle, who looks tired. "Why the snow and the smoke? Are you sure this is December?"

  She nods. "I had forgotten that during this period, there were a pair of volcanic eruptions that caused global climate change. In some places, it snowed in the summer."

  I nod, walking on sore legs toward the snow-covered hill above the temple. It's chilly here, but it feels good. I have a jacket in my pack but I don't bother to dig it out.

  The bodyguard suddenly brushes past me. I look up to see a group of men and women in the rainbow serpent/dragon masks walking down the hill toward us. Some of the men have their fists clenched around the brass knuckles with the crystal claws. I tell the bodyguard to chill and I walk out to meet them.

  "I'm Tyler Buck. I'm here to train."

  The woman in front removes her mask. It's Ayana, and she looks puzzled.

  "I'm relieved to see you, Tyler. But how did you get here? Fenfang didn't bring you."

  "Ms. Luvalle brought me."

  Ayana's eyes shift to Luvalle, who has her arms crossed to stay warm.

  Ms. Luvalle answers Ayana's unasked question. "I'm with Specta Aeternal."

  Ayana nods, looking uncomfortable. "Please, come inside where it's warm."

  We all eat lunch in a candlelit room with a long wooden table. The meat is spicy and delicious. I'm guessing it's goat, but I'm not sure. Ayana insists that I drink the strange-tasting tej with the calming drug, and this time I don't fight her.

  What would have happened if I had stayed with Ayana the first time? Now that I think of it, I'd probably be dead, killed by the same people who murdered Lord Beasley.

  I empty my glass of tej. "Ayana, there's something you should know. A group of mercenary types is looking for me in the present. I have no idea who they are, but I think they want to kill me. I'm worried they might find this temple and shoot the place up."

  She nods. "After you left, we came here, into the past, so we are safe from them. It is not yet our time to die."

  The word yet echoes in my mind.

  "What do you mean by yet? Do you actually know when you're going to die?"

  She doesn't look a bit troubled. "Yes, Tyler. I know."

  "Can't you use time travel to save yourself?"

  Ms. Luvalle squirms, like she wants to say something, but remains silent.

  Ayana continues, "We are happy to die, once our mission is complete."

  "What's your mission?"

  "Training you."

  I don't like the sound of that. I don't want any part in Ayana's death. How can she be so matter-of-fact about all this? No fear, no anxiety.

  As they clear the lunch dishes, Ms. Luvalle announces her plan to spend the night in the temple and, in the morning, jump a month ahead to check on my training progress. Ayana only nods. I can tell she doesn't like having Luvalle here.

  The drug in the tej kicks in fast, and not long after lunch I'm feeling analytical and detached, as if I'm observing my body like a scientist. This really isn't my idea of a calming drug. I was hoping for a happy buzz, but no such luck.

  After I say good-bye to Ms. Luvalle, Ayana gives me a complete tour of the temple. They use shared bathrooms, located in several places. The toilets are simple wooden benches with round holes cut in them and constantly flowing water underneath. Nearby there are two buckets. One with fresh, wet rags soaked in fragrant water, the other bucket for discarding the dirty rags after cleaning up. It's probably not the most hygienic system, but it works.

  There is also a bathing area, fed by hot springs. One room holds a large stone bath for communal use. A second room, separated by a closed door, holds a smaller bath. This one is entirely for me.

  And finally, there's my bedroom. It features a canopy bed surrounded by long strips of glittery fabric in all the colors of the rainbow. It looks like something I'd imagine in a seventies gay porn movie. The mattress is stuffed with down feathers and it's amazingly comfortable. On the ceiling above the bed hangs a mirror made of some highly polished metal, maybe silver. So far, this is my favorite bed ever.

  After the tour, Ayana takes me to meet Lagashan, a woman known as my Emerald Mentor. She's a tiny middle-aged Ethiopian woman with fiery dragon eyes and a sour expression. She looks me over like a used car.

  She shakes her head and turns to Ayana, saying something in a language I don't understand.

  "What did she say?"

  Ayana looks concerned. "That you are arrogant and will die like the others who didn't follow her instructions."

  The calming drug is coursing through my veins, so Lagashan's words don't bother me. "Does she speak English?"

  Ayana shakes her head. "I'll be translating
all of your emerald training."

  "Can you tell her something for me?"

  Ayana nods.

  I turn to look Lagashan in her dragon eyes. "Don't mistake confidence for arrogance."

  Ayana translates.

  Lagashan says nothing. She simply reaches out and painfully twists the end of my nose.

  I think she's trying to provoke me, to see if the drug is working.

  I stare at her, unmoving, my face blank. "I don't have my dragon amulet. Will that be a problem?"

  Ayana translates.

  Lagashan shrugs, grabs my wrist, and pulls me down an unfamiliar passageway. Ayana follows close behind.

  Our route leads downward, and the air thickens as we descend. We pass several oil lamps set in niches, all of them sputtering as if struggling to remain lit. It's easy to believe I'm being led into the bowels of hell.

  After passing down several flights of stairs, we eventually squeeze through a narrow slot in the rock, finding ourselves in the middle of a vast chamber. The only light comes from oil lamps set in the mouths of stone dragon heads carved from the rock, like gargoyles.

  With Ayana translating, Lagashan orders me to stand in the center of the chamber, next to a small dark hole in the floor.

  My task is simple. I'm not allowed to leave the chamber until I catch a rabbit. I'm thinking this may be a difficult task, because there are no rabbits in sight.

  Ayana and Lagashan exit the chamber through the narrow slot, and it's too dark for me to see if they're watching from the other side.

  Suddenly, a gray rabbit with long ears pops up from the hole in the floor. I make a grab for it, wondering if it will bite my finger off. I don't get close to touching it, and I imagine it laughing as it bounds off to the edge of the chamber and disappears into another hole at the base of the wall.

  I walk around the chamber to examine it, and find many more such holes. Something tells me this test is rigged for me to fail.

 

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