by Aaron Crash
The music seemed to fade away, and I found myself lost in Figg’s story. Sometimes I got frustrated with how serious she could be. And yes, I made jokes about her being a rage-machine burning anger oil. In the end, though, she had a right to be furious.
Cheriela patted her hand.
Figg took a drag and let the smoke drift above us. “Geeze took me in. He taught me sorcery. I went away to school to learn the magic that would save us.”
“Which worked like a fucking charm,” Rhee cursed.
It was a welcome tension break.
A titter ran through the rajani.
Figg allowed herself a smile. “After my father died, we had the Mahat Rajan Koro Vasarah.” She helped me translate since my Sayskritch wasn’t too good. “That’s the King Catch Day.”
Syren and Serene, the two brunette rajani, fluttered their eyelashes in disgust. I liked both of those Foulwater women. Serene seemed the sweeter of the two. Syren had a slutty way about her—you just knew that she’d do any number of questionably moral things in bed.
Rhee translated their disgust. “This is a stupid way to pick a leader. On this King Catch Day, the man who catches the most fish becomes the rajan of the town.”
I winced. “So it was luck?”
Deela giggled. “Be careful, hero. There are many fisherwomen who say it’s not luck, but skill, and they can smell where the fish are. We all have our special holes.”
“I bet your hole is special.” Rhee winked at her.
Deela blushed. “Oh, Rheesee. You are a pretty thing.”
Figg kept her eyes on me. “Some say Doggig Balaka cheated. Some say the angels directed the fish into his nets. Either way, he came back with the biggest catch. He became the rajan and has been the rajan ever since.”
“That’s all fine,” Rhee said. “But why did you crazy bitches marry him?”
Serene dropped her head. “He was less fat back then.”
Syren didn’t have that same sense of shame. “I was born poor. I swore I wouldn’t die poor. As a rajani, I’ve always had plenty to eat. And I love my sister-wives.” She gripped Serene’s hand.
Serene leaned over and kissed her lover’s face.
Monala let out a cynical bark of amusement. “That is how we survived. We avoided Uncle Dog, and we screwed each other. It wasn’t so bad.”
Deela was still giving the elf the eye. “When Cheriela, Monala, and I came down from Sweetleaf, we knew marrying Uncle Dog would give us a good life. Even better?” Insert drunken giggle here. “We’d get the sweet yonis of his wives. It was worth it.” Then Deela was kissing first Syren and then Serene.
Cheriela smiled wistfully. “Doggig has gotten worse over the years. We’ve found another man to help us when our need is great.”
Rhee was one samarandha too far into her drunk. “We know about you all and Geeze. I want to know if he uses his stump on you.”
“Rheesee!” Figg screamed, clearly shocked. She leapt to her feet. “Come, let’s dance. Then you won’t say such shocking things.”
The rajani though, were laughing, all except Deela, who was clearly thinking about my slutty, inappropriate elf in a clearly slutty, inappropriate way. It did make me wonder if one day I might do a little MILF hunting myself.
Chapter Nine
THEN IT WAS DANCING and laughter and drinking, and we watched Bragg Bharta, Victorio Varuna, and Palmer Barggby dance with their wives and have fun. Even the schoolteacher, Sita Amaranth, danced, moving well on her peg leg.
Not all of Bragg Bharta’s wives bopped along to the beat. Nina Heart sat, scowling, giving the rajani several mean looks. Nina did not like them one bit. But then Sita went over and encouraged Nina to dance.
I danced a little, but mostly I ate lobster and drank bilk. The victory that morning was satisfying. The New Pier had taken a beating, sure, but it was still there and all of its businesses still open.
Seeing all the men, women, and children, I wondered if I could trust them. At least with Uncle Dog, he was an out-and-out scummy fucker, and I knew where I stood.
What if one of these other townspeople was a secret villain like the constable had been? Eggero Khel had hit us from out of the blue. I didn’t want that to happen again. Without a doubt, that would be very bad. Sita was sweet, but she was new. As for Nina, could the small-town politics have forced her into some kind of deal with the merfolk?
I didn’t think so.
I thought Geeze might be able to use his magic to find anyone in town who might be trying to screw us. The problem was, back in the day the old elf had been an accomplished sorcerer, but he didn’t have the skill that he once had. He might be able to get more information on the merfolk family mystery, but would he be able to see if someone else was as demonic as the former constable? That made me wonder about Eggero Khel, where he might be, and what he might be. Was he a Dragonsoul as he’d claimed? Or was he something else?
It was a lot to consider. Nameless came over with her teenage sister and their mother. They all hugged me and thanked me for saving them.
I tousled Nameless’s hair. Seeing the twinkle in her eyes and the smile on her face made all my efforts seem worth it. I also felt the responsibility of protecting her and her family. The father had died during a Kankar attack, which wasn’t anything new to the poor people of that town.
I thought of my homesickness. In the end, that didn’t mean shit. I had to stay and take care of Foulwater. Damn, but I felt like Finniwigg Nightshine. She was dancing with the rajani. I noticed Rhee and Deela were close enough to grind on each other. The slutty elf would get herself all worked up with the older blonde, but she’d wind up in my bed. That would be fun.
And it was. As the party started to wane, I took my girls back to the brothel’s attic. Dryx wasn’t there, and she didn’t show up, not when I was inside Figg, and not when I was behind Rhee, gripping her hips. The women and I collapsed in a heap of kisses and hugs, and I tried to sleep, but I couldn’t.
The truth was, I was worried.
I went out to do a little flying, to think, and to keep watch. I sailed over my glorious western wall. Those ramparts could easily repel the Kankar again if another herd found us. The new constable, a woman named Dolori Kannaggi, stood in a guard tower. Agni torches flickered on the fortifications, and I was reminded of Minecraft torches. I’d grown up playing the fifth-generation game with my uncle.
Slithering through the early morning air, the skies full of stars and one of the moons near the western horizon, I didn’t struggle, but came at the memory sideways.
My uncle Jared loved Minecraft 2040. Yes, that was the name of the happy guy, who had become a Dragonskin. Jared had grown up human, but he’d gone through the rituals to become a Dragonskin. He loved video games—they’d been his escape since he’d grown up in a wheelchair. Then my father found a magical artifact that changed Jared’s life.
Was Jared my real mother’s brother? Or did I call him uncle because he was just around us and our family so much? I didn’t know, and the memory left me, but I found myself humming my birth song. For some Dragonsouls, they have this melody that follows them. The more powerful you are, the longer it lingers. My sister Regina still had her song, and I still had mine.
With the western gates checked, I flew over the town. The party in the market was over, and several people slept there in blankets, including a very tired Mumi, who would clean up the next day.
Geeze’s perch was dark, and I hoped he was sleeping peacefully. We needed him and his magic. I crossed the Hintala Village and landed on the wall I’d summoned from the depths of the bay. From there, I could see Rhee’s ship, tied safely to the dock. The waters of the bay were dark and peaceful. There was a light breeze, but not much. I enjoyed the scent of the night.
I realized I was falling in love with this strange world and this crappy little port town. It could be so much more. I scratched the shiny rock inside the dark stone. The stars gave me just enough light. The diamonds there could really bring
prosperity to this place.
And I could usher that in.
Feathers rustled. I caught a familiar scent.
Dryx landed down from me. She walked up, proudly, head tilted back. She threw me a proud little nod. “You didn’t die. We had sex again. You all had a party. I saw you at the party with your two wives. You were human then. Now you are a dragon. It seems to me that someone who can’t keep their shape is evil. Are you evil, Axel Drokharis? Are you as evil as the dragons who plagued this world before?”
I smiled and showed her my fangs. “I might have skin, or I might have scales, but I’m always me. Inside I don’t change, Dryx.”
“My people slaughtered your kind,” she said. “I should hate you. I should fly away. I keep trying to. And yet, I fail. I grow curious about you. You saved me. You were kind. A dragon should be a vile, terrible power-hungry creature that rapes women, steals gold, and destroys cities.”
I shook my huge head. “Nope. I’m a Dragonsoul. My father said we generally do four things. Gather an Escort, acquire a Hoard, and build Aeries. And we bring freedom to people. So, there’s no raping or stealing, and we only destroy the bad guys. I’m not a bad guy.”
She walked up to me, arms crossed, head back, and wings folded. We must have looked like quite the pair—the black dragon and the white-haired angel woman. I know, not technically an angel, not in the Xiddian theological sense, but angel enough.
I grinned. “Dragons and angels... might be a song on SpotifyUltra. It would definitely be a board on Pintrafication.”
“You speak nonsense,” she admonished.
“I keep hearing that. I find myself very entertaining.”
Dryx blinked and shook her head. She wasn’t entertained. “I’m hungry. I’m lonely. In some ways, I still feel like I’m in the box. Even with my liberty, I am drawn to you against my better judgement.”
I knew why. “Do you trust me, Dryx?”
She nodded. “I do. I have seen your compassion and your honor.”
“Then trust me when I say it’s not your fault. Women are drawn to me. Even Ibbithy Alyyb BuBano and I had a moment. It comes with being a dragon. Believe me, I’d turn it off if I could. But I can’t. It’s simply a reality.” I kept my gaze on her.
Her mouth dropped open. Her eyes were confused for a minute, and then they hardened with a new determination.
I talked fast. “Before you fly off, and I know you’re going to, Figg, Rhee, and I are flying off to Sweetleaf tomorrow morning. Oh, no, this morning. In just a few hours. You’re welcome to join us. Or, if you stay, keep watching over the city. I know you don’t care much for humans, but however ugly they are, they might need your help.”
At the mention of Sweetleaf, the winged woman’s eyes flashed. By the time I was done, she was breathing hard with her fists at her side. “I owe the uglies nothing. I owe you nothing. I saved you this morning. I gave love to you this afternoon, you and your elf girl. We are even. I am leaving!”
Then, following her script, she flew away into the darkness.
I vowed the next time she showed up, I’d show her the door without saying a word. This dance was stupid, and I had more important things to worry about than some winged woman’s tantrums. If Nameless or her family were hurt, fucking Dryx wouldn’t mean a thing. Besides, we were even. She could leave and find her way home.
However, that wouldn’t be easy. She lived on another continent, which begged the question of how she’d been shoved in that box in the first place. And why did the mention of Sweetleaf upset her?
I grimaced. I should’ve asked her. Well, it was too late now. Or was it? There was a good chance the yoyo-ing wouldn’t stop, and I could ask her again.
My little flight and my encounter with the pain-in-the-ass angel had exhausted me. I could sleep a bit, and then we’d fly off across the grasslands. I was looking forward to it. I’d been out on the Uchina Sea, but I hadn’t gone inland. Exploring other worlds felt familiar to me in some odd way. It made me think of Uncle Jared again, and I hummed my song some more.
Back in my bed, I wormed my way in between the two women. Rhee woke to kiss my ear before returning to sleep with her forehead pressed against my back. Figg nestled herself into my chest, whimpering a little, dreaming of something that didn’t seem too pleasant. I thought of waking her.
I was caught in my own unpleasant dream a second later.
I was back in the Temple of the Good Ancients, in the basement room, where a statue of Raagnis Agnaala stood. He’d been a bearded man made out of rock. In my dream, though, he was a huge dragon, white and blue, with a long snowy beard hanging from his chin. He snorted fire, and I could feel the flames.
I was naked in front of him, in my human form. I knew this wasn’t just your typical dream.
“Magica Divinatio,” the ancient shape-shifting hero murmured. “That is the ability to know the future and delve into the past. Magica Porta. That is what we can use to conjure doorways to other worlds. This magic was lost to you when you were torn from your world and brought here, son of fire, father of peace.”
Hearing those words, Magica Divinatio and Magica Porta, brought back so many memories of my mothers teaching me magic. It was the ultimate form of homeschooling. One woman, a blind woman with glowing green eyes behind sunglasses, had been a stern instructor. She had a wicked sense of humor outside of the classroom. Inside the classroom? It was si, Maestra, and no, Maestra, and no mas.
Intuitively, the truth came to me. The Dragonsoul magic was locked in the Anjagar Dayva category of my skill tree.
The dragon hero came forward, but his scales were turning to rot as his muscles slid off him. He was decaying before my eyes, and the stink was terrible. Worse, I could see the fire inside of him, cooking him from the inside out.
He howled in pain or in anger, I wasn’t sure which. Then he repeated words I’d heard before:
And lo, there comes a hero upon the land, to bring worlds together and to cut realms asunder. He shall be conqueror, he shall be king, he shall be destroyer, and he shall be the father of peace. He shall quest until those quests become war, and he shall war until those wars become a game. For the devouring shadows will be gone, and yet, there is always darkness, and there is always hell. Gather your women to you, arm them with hope, and embrace your hidden destiny, for you truly are the son of fire!
Then I heard laughter, like everything this ancient hero said had been so much bullshit. I recognized the laughter. It was Eggero Khel, and of course, he wasn’t going to simply laugh. He had to add, “I’m progressing on my skill tree, son of fire. How far are you? Or are you hoping to get lucky, son of Drokharis? Is it a skill tree? Or is it a luck tree?”
That’s when the huge undead dragon snapped its jaws around me. And the fire in its belly burned me. It was a shock, yes, but I was also jealous. I was a dragon. I wanted to breathe fire.
Yes, I had to save Foulwater, but I also had a hidden enemy out in the world. And Eggero wasn’t simply hanging out, smoking bidis and drinking bilk. He was doing push-ups in the parking lot, and if I wasn’t careful, he’d beat me like a Foulwater drum on a festival day.
Quests. Wars. Games.
I came awake. Or thought I did. The sunshine of a new day poured through the window. That was one of the drawbacks of having an eastern facing window. I needed to get curtains for that.
Only, I did have curtains—in the real world I did.
In this ghostly dreamworld? No, this was different.
I heard music, lots of electric guitars and an EDM drumbeat, and I realized it was my birth song.
Wait. How was I hearing music in my room, and why hadn’t it woken up Figg and Rhee? They were sleeping.
At the table, my uncle Jared held his phone, and the music was coming from that phone. Jared sat there, frowning at me. He was wearing jeans and a black Halestorm T-shirt—his sister loved that band. His full name was Jared Ross, and his sister was Tessa Ross. She was one of my moms. She made coffee, and she fired gun
s, and she was so much fun.
Jared had sandy brown hair. Usually, he had normal human eyes, but not now. He had the vertical slits of a snake, the iris a flaming yellowish orange. The skin on his face blackened and became scales, a dark red color.
When Jared opened his mouth, he didn’t talk. He didn’t even mouth the lyrics that burst forth, but the words matched my melody.
It was both weird and jarring.
A gunslinger never weeps
A gunslinger never sleeps
A gunslinger never cries
A gunslinger never dies
I walked through that town with a soul full of mud
I walked through that town leaving footprints of blood
Some of my previous assumptions were correct. This wasn’t the first backwater town I’d saved, and I knew Jared and I had been gunslingers together.
I didn’t have the whole story, but I knew that song could explain any number of things about myself that I might not want to remember.
Chapter Ten
THE NEXT MORNING, PACKING took forever. Figg was prepared, and she didn’t have much. However, Rhee was still feeling the party from the night before, and she was sullen and scattered. She also had to make several trips back to the Twilight Gem to grab things. At first, I wanted to complain, but then I remembered that she’d brought the Agni ghosa to our raid on Ekam’s Palace. That holy hand grenade had saved the day.
I still had a little business to take care of, so I sat in my room with Figg.
For the millionth time, I went over the Five Magics Skill Tree, which Figg couldn’t understand.
Her: “You see it?”
Me: “Yes.”
Her: “With your eyes?”
Me: “With my mind’s eye.”
