Home at Last

by Alex Sapegin

  He lost count of the days, as his internal clock went wrong, and his weakened body could not tune in to the lunar rhythm. One day he habitually “surfaced” and scanned the surrounding space. Imagine his surprise when his magical “eye” identified his father and older sister. They were pretty close, about ten yards from him. They were worried. Even in the depths of his trance, bypassing the will shields that Andy supported at a subconscious level, he felt the feelings of his family members in whom there was so much pain and hope that he almost fell out of his trance into their world. After that, he began to scan his surroundings regularly. His wounds were healing, both from the firearms and the kicks of their zealous wielders (not one participant in the events included this scene in their reports). The more he healed, the more daily scans he conducted.

  It was a little easier knowing he hadn’t been abandoned. They hadn’t given up on him, but this was small consolation. Andy remembered a large underground complex with many posts of armed guards. His memory obligingly showed him the pictures captured by his gas-crazed brain. All the external signs spoke of a military bunker, and therefore, his father’s developments had been taken over by the state. Numerous small hemorrhages [SJ(S48]arranged for him by the geeks in glasses led him to conclude he was in some sort of biological laboratory. Regrettably, he shared the fate of a white lab rat. No matter what authority his father possessed, the son would never be released into the world again. Such meditations were unbearably painful to him. Maybe he could convince his father to send him back? No guarantee, no guarantee at all. He was now a slave, too.

  In addition to his father and older sister, Andy felt someone else’s presence from the very first moment, at a deep level. He pondered this phenomenon for a long time and asked himself how someone could create the effect of a presence… What was going on? In order to dot the “I’s,” he decided to conduct an experiment. To do so successfully, he had to completely separate his “I” from external and internal stimuli, to plunge into emptiness. Only from the emptiness, having rejected everything superfluous, was it possible to plunge into the trance even deeper, and try to trace where the waves of heat washing over his ego were coming from. He quickly determined the direction, mentally seized the “wave” and headed in the direction of its source. Recognition came unexpectedly—Olga! But how? His little sister didn’t feel like a human—it was strange. The “waves” carried with them the smell of the sky and the floral fragrance of wings. Andy thought about it. He saw Olga as a young dragon! No other image added up.

  Olga!

  In response to the mental cry, he was enveloped in pure, real joy mixed with sadness, and some furious hope. In order to read his sister’s feelings more clearly, Andy removed his will shields.

  “Finally,” a male voice with cold intonations sounded in his head. “May the Twins bless you, Kerrovitarr!”

  “What?” Andy was frightened at first.

  “Stop! Do not put up your shields; I mean you no harm!”

  “Who are you?” Andy didn’t put the shields back up, but kept them at the ready. The defense of the mind had no direct relation to magic, but it was one of the branches of the mental sciences.

  There was a pause. The mental voice apparently was taking a time-out to think about his response. “My name is Rosugar, or rather, it was...” The cold was replaced by sadness. “The second keeper of the key and seals.”

  “Second? Was there a first and a twentieth?”

  “Don’t be sarcastic, there were three of us.” The sadness gave way to a biting cold, the cold wind of thought. “We guarded the interplanetary portals on Nelita.”

  “Guardians!” Andy guessed.

  “Yes, Guardians. The last true bloods on Ilanta.”

  “But...”

  “Now Ilanta has you.”

  “Had. I’m not on Ilanta.”

  “Doesn’t matter. You’ll go back.”

  Andy mentally laughed. The joker. Although… this Rosugar was something, even if he was a true blood.

  “Tell me, Rosugar, but be honest: who are you?”

  “I’ve told you already. I have nothing to add.”

  “Interesting.” Andy decided to arrange a mini-interrogation for the strange conversation partner, who didn’t exactly instill a sense of trust. It’s not every day someone breaks into your skull on the mental level and conducts worldly conversations. “You say you were a Guardian, which I hardly believe.”

  “I was, I am, and for some time I still will be,” Rosugar replied without emotion.

  “And what happened to the others?”

  “Dead. Vetgar died after he sent the Grand Imperial Fleet to the bottom of the ocean. I don’t know the details of his death, and Delgar… I killed Delgar. He couldn’t stand waiting any longer and wanted to open the portals, but I managed to stop him. You bear his key.”

  “I wish I’d never laid eyes on it,” Andy growled, remembering the golden medallion with the stone in the center.

  The voice clearly scoffed. “You should not have opened the portals to Nelita under any circumstances.”

  “I understand.”

  “I killed my friend, attacked when he was two steps from the altar. I won, but at what cost? Delgar was strong and experienced, and before I severed his head with a spell, he managed to send me into the astral.”

  “Send... Is that possible?”

  “It happens,” Rosugar answered, “if you get dragged into an energy vortex. I turned into pure energy, plunged into the astral, but I didn’t lose my mind. I became the first dragon forced to go into the world of energy, and there is no road back. When you cannot die, it’s worse than death.”

  The gears responsible for the thought processes in Andy’s head began to move with a strained creak. His mind habitually cleansed itself of superficial thoughts, which were divided into several streams. One part of his consciousness distracted attention to itself and supported the conversation with the talkative inhabitant of the astral, and another—calculating, cold, freed from the influence of emotion—scrupulously analyzed the situation and new data.

  If he could see his surroundings, he would be amazed at the bustle of people in strange suits, startled by flashing LEDs on medical devices. Many of them looked with horror at the sinusoids and figures on the monitors, which were incomprehensible to the mere mortal.

  The picture was interesting, but something prevented one from believing the eye-popping news; something sharp tore the whole composition to pieces. For some reason, Rosugar’s words didn’t want to fit in with his perception of the world. Maybe because he was lying through his non-existent teeth? Exactly, but why? Why would an astral dragon lie?

  A puppeteer, just another puppeteer! The crazy guess flashed in his mind. From the very depths of his consciousness, dispersing the cold and giving vent to his feelings, a wave of fury and hatred arose. For some time now, Andy couldn’t stand any attempts to control him, getting up in arms over them. In broadcasting about his own business, the mental alien failed to notice the threat. Numerous medical devices diagnosed not only the increased activity of the patient’s brain, but also the active spontaneous contraction of his muscles. The face of the young, yet gray-haired man twitched in terrible grimaces. His body, arms, and legs, fixed with elastic straps, shook as if electric discharges were zapping them. The venerable doctors and scientists threw their hands up, trying to unravel the reason for such a state of the object of observation. The “object” himself convulsively dug into his own memory, which obligingly slipped him the pictures of the huge hall with the dragon skeleton at the altar, then loaded whole layers of information, gleaned from Asha’s mind during the confluence. Each fact rising to the surface more and more assured the suspicious were-dragon that the mental interlocutor was pulling his leg.

  Andy clearly recalled the inner hall of the portal, the crystal arc, and the huge dragon skeleton, around which he could still feel the aura of grandeur. The posture of the late Lord of the Sky did not confirm the suggestion and wo
rds about a violent death, but a magical trap in the amulet? The type of trap indicated that it was installed in advance, and the magic transfer of the key to the new custodian didn’t match the suggestion either.

  The hall completely lacked any traces of a struggle or the use of magic. The white bones didn’t have a single crack or fracture—that he remembered for sure. A thick layer of dust accumulated over thousands of years. Pebbles were added to the scales of doubt by pieces of memory torn from Asha’s mind. The Great Mother’s knowledge of the nature of the dragons was truly priceless. He should have sorted out the acquired “legacy” a long time ago, not put it off to the last possible moment. All dragons are magical creatures, unconsciously scooping up mana from the astral, but among them there were exceptions—true bloods, named so because they are true magicians, freely wielding the energy of the astral, not pulling it like a Mellorny.

  The Great Mothers knew for certain about the dragons’ characteristics, as well as the fact that true bloods could disappear into the astral, thus moving to the next level of existence, but nowhere was there a grain of information about spells that turn sentient beings into astral creatures. Nowhere, otherwise the miur lady would have known about such incantations. For thousands of years, female and male big-brains[SJ(S49] of the tailed people had worked side by side with learned dragons, retaining (unlike the dragons) much ancient knowledge and many secrets that had officially sunk into oblivion. If Rosugar went to live in the astral, he did it himself.

  “Who are you, Rosugar? What do you want and what goals are you pursuing? The fact that you need me for something is sure enough, but for what?” And why me? thought Andy. The spark of a certain degree of trust which flared up at the beginning of the conversation was extinguished before it had time to be kindled further.

  Thinking, judging, and considering the situation this way and that, Andy decided to grab the liar by the balls. He was hiding something, and Andy had to assume it was nothing good, the wretch! While Rosugar was telling the fictitious story of his overthrow into the astral, his counterpart was preparing a mental trap. It involved one of the spheres of magic in which dragons were traditionally weak—necromancy.

  Necromancy was invented by humans and brought to perfection over the course of thousands of years. Grall Necros, Professor at the School of Magic in Orten, managed to teach the first-year students a few ways to extract energy from living things. The bookworms had no practice, which didn’t stop Andy from actually extracting energy and even the life from a military man in a bunker. In addition, necromancy was perhaps the only magical art that he could apply on Earth, by taking advantage of the energy of the person being attacked. For the transfer of mana, direct visual and tactile contact was required, but in the absence of habitual vision, mutual mental penetration could be substituted, as long as there was an energy component you could hook onto while pulling magic onto yourself.

  Andy felt that the “guest” had indeed come through the astral. That meant he somehow managed to overcome the barrier. What could he learn from this? He could logically conclude that the wall in front of the ocean of pure energy he needed so badly wasn’t so insurmountable. If there was a way here, there must be a way back. Rosugar would serve a noble purpose and carry the afflicted away on his own back, and there they could speak frankly. He just had to play on the weakness of all dragons—curiosity. The hunter grinned to himself; if the astral puppeteer didn’t buy into the trick and climb into the primitive, but no less effective, trap, he’d eat his hat.

  At some point, Andy must have opened his mind, not deliberately, as it seemed, but by mistake. Rosugar, just as Andy was counting on, couldn’t resist the temptation to look into someone else’s inner world—what could be the danger of a short dive into the depths of the mental shell? That’s right—none, if it weren’t for several “parasites” aimed at his aura. The old dragon didn’t understand at first what had happened, and only when he felt the outflow of mana did he realize that there was something sketchy going on. Dark spots on the outside of his aura were an unpleasant surprise. The energy he sent to his defense flowed into a bottomless barrel, at the bottom of which the ego of a were-dragon was grinning.

  Rosugar, not being a fool, instantly put two and two together. The retaliatory blow was immediate, but the shock wave was absorbed almost faster than the sand absorbs the water. A decent portion of raw mana went into Andy’s internal storage. When the attack failed, Rosugar made an attempt to break off direct contact.

  Andy felt a jerk; the fish tried to get off the hook and hide in the astral. Nuts to you! The fisherman pulled on the line; the inconspicuous, simple two-part interweave left a bright trace on which the hunter could orient himself. This time, in the barrier that fenced off the Earthly astral, there was a small gap—the result of Rosugar’s work. There was a gap, but it wasn’t big enough for a hungry predator on the hunt. It wasn’t a hole; more like a pinprick. Andy looked at the obstacle for several long seconds. Maybe he was being reckless, but there was no other way out...

  After draining half the energy from his ethereal dragon’s body and using the reserve that had already been formed by Rosugar’s efforts, he threw himself at the foul wall with all his might, concentrating at the puncture point. If it worked, the mana spent would return a hundredfold, if not...

  The barrier, weakened by the lying dragon, couldn’t stand the brute force. YESSS!

  “Well done, you did it!” Rosugar’s calm voice rang out in his head.

  “What?” Andy was taken aback and nearly lost control over the floods of mana pouring into him. He felt the smirk of his satisfied prey with his whole being. The diagnostic equipment in the medical block ceased blinking its LED lights—the failed and now melted equipment couldn’t handle the energy put into it. In the medical sector, a code-orange alert was announced. Armored valves immediately blocked the exits and ventilation systems. The sector switched to automatic power supply; self-destruct systems were brought into full readiness and personnel were evacuated from the adjacent sectors. A few scientists and the “father” of the cause for the stir were stuck in Andy’s medical block. The fear that filled the room could be cut with a knife.

  “You acted outside of the box, but that’s quite expected. Sorry for the awkward, stupid ruse.”

  The world turned upside down. A ruse? How, why? If this was a ruse, then what in the world couldn’t be a ruse? From the mental connection, he clearly felt suppressed giggling. In a moment, the crazy dragon broke into uproarious laughter; a wave of someone else’s unrestrained fun overwhelmed Andy. Lunacy! Which one of them was insane? Theater of the absurd.

  “Targ!” Andy cursed. So this is how it turned out. From the very beginning, his reaction was calculated by the astral scum!

  “Now, now, a little more respect if you please!”

  “Slime,” said Andy, without losing his temper, calming down and taking his feelings in hand. He felt uneasy. Immersed in a world of energy, he came in contact with a familiar force, which threw him out of the astral when he, still a young dragonling, first decided on the risky experiment. This same force had helped him come out relatively clean after the battle that almost took place with the Norsemen at the gates of Orten. It also flashed in the back of his perception, when he launched the portal that sent the young experimenter to Nelita. The rune-key was fed from this source.

  “It was you!” The poison of the accusation saturated the air around them. “I owe you that whole Targ-loving adventure on Nelita! Because of you I almost bit the dust?”

  “Yes, I!” the biting response hit like a slap in the face. “And I don’t regret what I did. I staked the life of the whole world on you, and I didn’t lose.”

  “Targ!” Rage burst through the mask of self-control.

  “Calm down.” A cocoon of alien power shrouded Andy from all sides. “Do you want to destroy the bunker and be buried under tons of dirt?”

  “You played me like a puppet,” Andy hissed, driving back the anger.


  “Suppose you were never a puppet; I just sometimes tweaked your life at critical moments.”

  “Did anyone ask you to?” A feeling of indifference came over him. A void formed in his soul from the realization that his life was subordinated to the script written by an invisible conversation partner. By a forceful effort, he turned off his perception of the world and severed contact with the astral. The young dragon needed to comprehend this new outlook, but the “scriptwriter” broke through his will shields.

  “Don’t you dare!” The prophecy sounded in his head. “Don’t you dare meditate. You must listen to me!”

  “I don’t HAVE to do anything for anyone!” Andy snarled.

  “Please, I’m asking you to listen.” There was such frantic hope in his voice that Andy took pity on him.

  “You have twenty minutes.”

  “I’ll try to keep it within that limit.” A whole gamut of foreign emotion broke through the thin film of protection. Rosugar’s quiet voice, continually checked for honesty by the suspicious Andy, penetrated into his consciousness and dragged him into the depths of history. “It started long before Hazgar came to power...”

  * * *

  Far-away worlds turned out to be much closer to each other than you could imagine. Ancient dragons were guided by the theory that the universe is multifaceted, and the worlds in it, separated by temporal streams, resembled atoms that were built into unique fractals or crystal lattices. The planets of Ilanta and the Earth were the centers of their fan-lattice crystals. When the winged scholarly brethren began to explore parallel worlds, it was guided by the points at which the time vectors were concentrated. One of the expeditions broke through to Earth, but it became a snare for the dragons. It was one of the groups that never came back.