Dodge City Knights

by Aaron Crash

  The Dragonsoul’s eyes fluttered open. “If I move, will I die?” He asked the question wryly, a little grin on his draconian face. He spoke with a slight Japanese accent.

  “Yes!” Tessa said.

  “No.” Steven gave a final growl and shoved Tessa back. Her shield failed and she was sent sprawling.

  She pulled herself to her feet and stalked off.

  Sirens wailed in the distance. The humans were coming. Steven knew that once they removed the ruins, they’d find Icharaam’s cave underneath. By that time, it would’ve been wiped clean by the magic pouring out of the culverts. They might be mystified, but there would be nothing left for them to link the destruction to anything supernatural.

  Chosen Ben would probably tell them it was a gas leak and not to worry about it.

  Steven was shaky after his fight with Tessa. He’d had to fight his Escort before, Mouse and their duel came to mind, but he’d rather fight an entire army of Zothoric than face down one of his own.

  The yellow-green dragon eased himself away from Uchiko. “I’m moving. Don’t kill me just yet. I would like a cup of coffee, just one more, before I die. It’s been a long journey here, but full of wonder, and fried rings of dough. They are delicious, but I cannot remember what they are called.”

  Tessa came storming back. “They’re called donuts, you fucking moron.”

  Mouse spat out a sarcastic cackle. “Well, if anything can bring us together, it’ll be fried rings of dough.”

  “With icing or chocolate or colored bits of sugar. What’s the word?” The yellow-green dragon stood and turned human, a powerfully muscled Asian man with black hair flecked with white. A little bit of grizzled beard covered his neckline. His eyes were wrinkled with age.

  “Sprinkles?” Tessa offered, still breathing hard.

  Niwashi snapped his fingers. “Sprinkles. Yes. That is it. I’m Paanga Komang, and I have come to see if Steven Drokharis is who I think he is.”

  Paanga Komang owned an empire as mighty as Steven’s. Of course he did. This ancient Dragonsoul was so old and powerful.

  Aria let out a long breath. She was still pale, but she was gathering her strength. “Steven is the lost son, the last scion of the Drokharis family, and in him runs the blood of Icharaam.”

  “Well put, Thirteen.” Niwashi inhaled deeply. “Now, let’s find clothes and a coffee shop. Preferably one that serves coffee and donuts, one with sprinkles. As many colors as possible. Fashion should not be a part of food.”

  They stopped off at the Empire State Aerie to get more clothes and to pack for the coming flight out to Kansas. This time, it was going to be hard-core dragon flight, as fast as they could fly, to get to Dodge City.

  Steven checked in with Javier. Bad news on the Kansas front. A hundred Magicians had broken through Javier’s defenses. Casualties were light—Liam and the Five Widows had survived—but the fighting was brutal.

  Worse yet, Dodge City had fallen to Mordred’s forces. They were going to have to land inside enemy territory to claim Icharaam’s gift. The rest of Steven’s Escort—Sabina, Zoey, the twins—were already on their way. They were going to meet in Hutchinson, Kansas, about a hundred miles east of Dodge City. Hutchinson had one of the largest grain elevators in the world as well as a space museum. Sabina had a vision of them camping outside of the town, near a river, and she said amazing things would happen there. She wasn’t specific.

  From their secret camp, they would strike at Dodge City.

  In the bedroom of the suite, Tessa pulled Steven aside to apologize. Seeing Aria upset had shaken her up, and she’d been riding high on the Animus from Needles and Clutch. Cort Calot’s energy had been far less satisfying for Steven.

  Tessa wound up in his arms, holding him tight. She didn’t cry. She merely clung to him, head buried in his chest, as he smelled her slightly cherry scent. This journey had been hard on her, but she was coming to terms with her history. And they were about to get the rest of Merlin’s story.

  Because Paanga Komang wasn’t simply another Dragonlord, hiding in the shadows. He’d known the Dragonknights, and Arthur had even offered to knight him. Paanga had declined. Steven remembered he’d had a vision of that conversation.

  Uchiko was taking the appearance of her old teacher well, given the circumstances. She said it was Steven’s love that gave her strength. In the end, she’d helped kill Rahaab, which was what Paanga had trained her to do. But why had Paanga wanted Rahaab dead? They were about to find out.

  They found an all-night diner off some busy street in the heart of the New York City. They didn’t have donuts, but they had beignets, and that seemed okay with Paanga.

  They had a big back booth, so Uchiko could join them, wearing her anti-pollution dust mask and an NYU hoodie, both black.

  Paanga ate the last of the beignets and licked his fingers. “Well, now, this fried dough is exceptionally good.”

  “No sprinkles, though.” Tessa frowned, hand on her coffee mug. “Can you forgive me for hitting you?”

  The Asian dragon cocked his head to the side. “I was very surprised. I thought I would get a hero’s welcome. Then I found myself, on the ground.” He laughed and then grew serious. “Your temper is like Merlin’s. He could be sweet and funny, until he lost himself in his rage.”

  “That’s our Tessa.” Mouse was eating waffles, as many as she could cram into her little body. They were all ravenous.

  Steven had pretty much eaten a pig all by himself. He was itching to get going, and Paanga saw it.

  “So you’ve told me that you know the location of the Holy Grail.” Paanga paused to smile. “Sorry, that is obviously the human term. Icharaam’s gift is more to the point. Arthur and Merlin never called it that though. I see you are worried that Mordred and Lancelot will find it first. That will be impossible, I assure you.”

  “How can you know?” Steven asked.

  Paanga furrowed his brow. “How can you question me?” He realized how that sounded, and he took a few steps back. He softened it with a grin. “My grandfather, Mathaal, he said that it would be very hard to find, and that only someone his brother truly trusted would be allowed to take control of it. Back then, it wasn’t the Grail. He called it the Weapon, and even Grandfather wasn’t sure it existed. Icharaam hid it well, so well.”

  “Wait, back up,” Mouse said.

  Tessa sat there blinking. “What? Who? Wait. What? You’re Mathaal’s grandson?”

  Paanga shrugged. “Yes, we were related, but then all Dragonsouls can trace their lineage back to one of the Alpheros. I’m his grandson. We were never close, however. Merlin was kin to Mathaal as well I think.”

  “He was,” Tessa affirmed. “We saw a mosaic that traced his lines back to him.”

  Mouse swallowed a big chunk of waffle. “No offense, but you weren’t mentioned in the tiles. So, yeah, awkward, but you might be just one more asshole trying to trick us.”

  Paanga laughed at that. It was clear he liked to laugh. “No, I won’t trick you. I want to join you. I see much of Arthur in you, Steven. You have made such an impression in your short time. Icharaam had such strong blood. You will win his gift because you’ve already been given the Lady of the Lake’s blessing. Mordred tried to reach the temple under Lyra Lake, and he was rejected. The same will happen in Dodge City. You have time. There is no hurry. And while I liked the beignets, I would like a donut with sprinkles on them before this long night is through.”

  Steven checked his gut. What Paanga was saying felt right. Yet he still had to ask, “Why join us?”

  “I didn’t join the Dragonknights before. It is one of my many regrets. And I have grown bored with Dragonlords, their incessant drive to collect more Primacies, their greed, their lust. Let’s get ourselves off this bit of rock floating through the nothing.” Paanga searched their faces. “My mind isn’t as clear as it used to be. I fear I might lose my wits, like my grandfather did. I do not want that to happen until I’ve explored more of this universe.”
r />   That put a somberness in the air.

  Even Tessa ate her pancakes without making another joke.

  Paanga continued. “My Primacies are yours, Steven, my vassals, even my wives if you want them. With my forces behind you, the two remaining Australian Primes will fall into line as well as many, many others. No Dragonlord has ever had your might. You are missing but one thing. Icharaam’s gift. With that, we will be ready to end the Zothoric threat.”

  “Question,” Tessa said abruptly.

  “What’s the best kind of bear?” Mouse asked.

  Aria waved her hands. “No bears, no beets, no Battlestar Galactica. You two and your popular culture references. Tessa, please, just ask your question.”

  Before the barista could speak, Uchiko broke in. “Why did you want me to kill Rahaab? Why train me at all?”

  Paanga was wearing a dark green T-shirt. He pulled down the collar to reveal the brand of a dragon marking his flesh. Steven had thought it was a tattoo, but no, it was scar tissue with a definite pattern. “Rahaab gave that to me. He marked me, telling me that I had to remember I was a dragon and not a human. I lived too freely with the people of this world. He thought it was despicable that his own brother’s kin didn’t sequester himself away. I hated him. When you came to me, sweet, dear Oe Uchiko, I saw a way to strike at him. I was too afraid, and I’m ashamed. Sometimes I have great courage. Other times I am cowardly. I hope I have improved over the millennia, but I most likely haven’t. And thus I am a mystery to myself.”

  He paused, his smile grew wan, and his eyes unfocused. “It was a different time back then, with the Dragon Slayer murdering every one of us he could find, friend and foe alike.”

  Steven shivered. He could sense the truth. The Dragon Slayer had killed many of Paanga’s friends.

  Tessa could feel it too. She broke in. “Merlin killed Arthur.”

  Paanga smiled sadly and nodded. There were tears in his eyes. “Merlin was on the cusp of finding Icharaam’s gift. Mordred and his dark brothers knew it, and they feared that a human with such power would try and rule them. They went to murder Merlin and killed Guinevere instead, thinking to break the Magician’s spirit. Merlin’s spirit was broken, but his vengeance gave him new life. Arthur went to both comfort and confront his old friend. The pair fought, and in a fit of rage, Merlin slew his greatest friend, perhaps the greatest Dragonlord this world has ever known. Arthur fell. Merlin didn’t slow. We were all afraid we’d be next.”

  Tessa leaned in close and gripped Steven’s hand. Their fight seemed ominous now. He’d sworn he’d never again raise a fist or spell against one of his own. Perhaps Arthur had thought the same thing.

  Even Mouse had slowed eating.

  Aria leaned forward. “And Merlin’s fate?”

  “After decades of slaughter, his rage finally cooled. He came to this continent, heartbroken, alone, knowing a sadness few could ever understand. I met him in the Rocky Mountains one winter, and he asked that I forgive him. I did, but the damage was done. He drifted to Oregon, where he created a message for his daughter and Arthur’s lost son. Arthur had many wives, many daughters, but only one boy. He would become the first Drokharis.”

  Steven took in a breath and let out it out slowly. “We called the chamber with the twelve statues on the Oregon coast the Dragonknight Chamber. That’s where we found Aria’s Animus daggers.”

  “And I miss them so much,” Aria put in, breaking the somber tone a bit. “I love you all, even you, Mouse and Uchiko, but I love my daggers more.”

  “Liar!” Tessa said a little loudly. “You totally love us more than your electricity knives.”

  A few of the late-night patrons threw them a disapproving glance.

  Tessa leaned in closer to Steven. “I’m sorry, guys. I’m sorry I’ve been so...so dark side lately.”

  “You need to stop that shit like yesterday,” Mouse said, feigning annoyance. “Being the kind, loving wife has exhausted me. Being nice and non-sarcastic all the time is fucking unbearable.”

  It took a minute, and then Tessa let out a laugh.

  Steven joined her, and even Aria smiled.

  Paanga had no idea what was going on. He still laughed raucously. It was a welcome relief to all the seriousness.

  They paid their bill and left. The traffic had died down a bit, and they walked down to Central Park. They found a place to transform, picking up their bags in their claws. Tessa was in her heavy gear, which would work for lower altitudes, but when they climbed higher, she’d used shield spells to wrap herself up in a protective layer of magic. She and Steven could share energy, thanks to AnimusChain.

  Uchiko stood aloof. “What about me?” she asked.

  Paanga turned to give her a long look. “I can carry you and help protect you from the worst of the winds. I truly hope that you will be made whole someday. Can you forgive me for turning my back on you?”

  She bowed. “I can, Paanga-san. I have. And soon, very soon, Steven and his friends will restore me. We are close, very close.”

  He bowed back. “I hope so. I feel honored to have been your teacher. You have played an important role in the rise of the great Steven Drokharis. And you served my grandfather well for many years. You are a fine person, Uchiko, a very fine person indeed.”

  Uchiko put on her warm motorcycle gear, including the helmet, and climbed onto Paanga’s back.

  “Are you sure we can’t Uber there?” Mouse hated long-distance dragon flight more than anyone, and no one liked it at all. She gave Steven a mournful look. “Uh, what about the Orange Crush? We can’t just abandon her. I know, I could drive the old girl back to Cheyenne.”

  “Chosen Ben can take care of it in time,” Aria responded. “No more delays, Mouse. We must go.”

  The five dragons left the lights of New York City behind them. It was going to be a long night of flying.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  TESSA PUSHED HER FACE into Steven’s scales. The wind whistled over them. Long-distance dragon flight involved gaining altitude then swooping down using a mixture of gravity and wind speed. Albatrosses did a variation of this, and they could fly sixty miles an hour.

  Steven added a DragonStrength and SerpentGrace to fuel him further. With her on his back, he couldn’t go his full five hundred miles an hour, but he was eating up the distance. She took a break from the screaming winds every once in a while by casting a shield spell that covered every inch of her. It was the same magic she’d used to dive down into Lyra Lake.

  She had long hours to think about her fight with Steven. He’d forgiven her, and yes, she hadn’t used anything lethal against him—not her pistols and not even her telekinesis—yet she still didn’t like that they’d fought at all. She loved him. She adored him. And she was going to marry him. She went through the Dragonsoul vows again in her head.

  I am your strong fist. And I will be your strength just as you will be mine.

  I am your living soul. And I will be your heart just as you will be mine.

  Those words touched her so much. No, their short fight was her low point with this bloodlust thing. She’d never, ever do that again. And she wouldn’t have to. They would defeat the evil Dragonknights and win Icharaam’s gift.

  And if Steven fell? She’d fall right along with him. Either they would have their thousands of years together or they wouldn’t. She wouldn’t follow Merlin’s path of murder and vengeance.

  It was unlikely that Mordred would be able to complete the quest, but they had other things to worry about. His army was nearly to the Colorado border. If they removed the Dragonknights, their forces would fail, and their vassals would have to embrace Steven as their Prime.

  Chosen Ben already had. Sabina was in contact with the New England Dragonlord. The Latina Magician had reported that both the Prime and Chickadee Hamms were on their way to reinforce Steven’s armies at the Colorado border. They were hunkered down in Burlington off I-70. The New England Prime had a good squad of Warlings, Morphlings, and Magici
ans. The Colorado border would hold. It had to.

  If it didn’t, the Dragonknights had a straight shot to Cherry Creek. And Jared. Though that kid was used to war—he’d been fighting a losing battle with his body for most of his life—

  Tessa wanted to change that. She’d been practicing FleshForge. Like Steven, she’d been able to heal cuts and bruises by rebuilding the cells. Both were close to breaking the mystery of the magic.

  And it could be that Paanga Komang could help them. She was glad he had joined them. The wily old Dragonsoul was a powerful weapon in their fight. Nevertheless, Tessa knew that the final conflict would end up between Steven’s Escort and Mordred’s forces. It always had in the past.

  Tessa watched the land go from shadows to a ghostly gray as the sun rose behind them. The Midwest had record temperatures after the blizzard, and the land had become a morass of mud, the rivers swollen and brown from the runoff.

  Farms created a patchwork quilt on the landscape, their little homes looking so cozy. The sun warmed her. The shield spell was nice, and kept her insulated, but there was nothing like sunlight to really make you feel alive and comfortable. She was half plant. She knew it.

  She and Steven swooped down into a clearing of cottonwood trees. Tents had been set up for them. These weren’t just little pup tents, but big multi-people tents with an entryway, a place for your stuff, and nice awnings. Inside would be bedding.

  They hadn’t been able to stay at a hotel or an Aerie because Kansas was now officially owned by Mordred. Word had it he ruled the Miami-Dixie Primacy as well as the Carolina Primacy.

  Sabina had taken over the logistics of setting up the camp. She had chosen an elevated sandy bank so they wouldn’t get too muddy. The river itself was below them, a good twenty feet; they weren’t on the flood plain. Nevertheless, they would have to keep an eye on the river.

  The Latina Magician had enlisted the help of local vassals who were still loyal to Steven. They’d never liked Candler much, nor Morty Flint. One Magician told Sabina that Candler was dead. They didn’t have the details of the Dragonlord’s death, only that his wives had felt his passing. The rings on their left ring fingers had melted away and they could sense his Animus no longer.