Spirit of the Dragon: A Story of Magic, a Witch, and the Third Reich

by J Cameron Boyd

  “Wouldn’t that also mess with everything?”

  “If I am not mistaken, this is the reason your father must remain in Zirndorf.”

  “It is,” Urik confirmed.

  “There’s a grace period. Usually a couple of days to a week where the disruption won’t cause a problem. Before that time expires, everything has to be changed back. Otherwise, time ceases to be a reliable measurement. In other words, almost everything we know as rock solid goes to hell in a handbag.”

  “Why can’t father go ahead and change it back now?”

  “The points of intersection have been in place for a day. Haushofer and his personal squad of feran left before you and Elizabeth arrived,” Urik answered. “It’s possible they have moved through to the Age of Dragons. The thing is, it’s also possible that something from there has come here.”

  “Couldn’t we could trap them in the past?” Gregory asked excitedly.

  “Not so fast.” Raul raised his hand. “The vibrational patterns of the living are a match to the time they are living in. This is why kids are always so different than their parents and even more so than their grandparents. This is also why anything living cannot be allowed to remain in the wrong time frame. The energetic patterns don’t match.”

  “So?”

  “Gregory, I’m sure you know how powerful sentient thought is.”

  “Well, yeah,” Gregory answered. “It rules over everything.”

  “After sentient thought comes all the other vibrations of life. All things living influence the current energetic patterns of every dimension or time frame. The nature of life changes from time to time, not because of the time but because of those things living within that time. A living being, out of its time, if locked out long enough, will send everything into chaos,” Raul answered.

  “The shift cannot be returned to what it was until we are positive the living are in their right times,” Gregory’s father said, reinforcing his friend’s answer.

  “Well, at least the feran don’t matter,” Gregory grumbled, looking crestfallen.

  “But the humans and dragons do. That’s why I need to be here, and it’s also the reason I can never be forgiven.”

  Gregory didn’t respond. Instead, he quietly walked over to the fireplace mantel and distractedly began inspecting the photos sitting on top of it.

  With a deep sigh, Elizabeth reviewed her conclusions, “We’re going to have to separate. Urik, you can’t stay alone. Granted you can now access your will, but there’s the matter of withdrawal to consider.”

  “I can handle it,” Urik tried to assure them.

  “Not and fight off any remaining feran that might show up here. All the commotion was probably noticed by someone. For all we know, the Germans already have reinforcements on the way here. You’re going to need powerful help as well as all the rest you can get.

  “But before I can let you rest,” Elizabeth said gently, “I assume that Haushofer had your help in determining the location that those two timelines would intersect.” Urik hung his head in sorrow. “We need to know the location and a bit about what the factors are that determine the intersection point.” Urik nodded and, determined to help as much as he could, gave her all the information that time would allow.

  When he finished, Elizabeth said, “Thank you, Urik. You have done as well as anyone could be expected to do. Now, logically that leaves Gregory and me to chase down Haushofer,” Elizabeth said firmly.

  “But Gregory’s no match for the old magic,” Raul argued. “Remember, the German has the books.”

  “I’m sure Gregory can handle anything that we encounter. Raul, you’ve got to stay with Urik. You’re the only one, beside Urik, who knows how the curse attacks. He’s going to need you.”

  Unable to argue with her logic, Raul nodded.

  “I won’t let you down,” Gregory assured Elizabeth.

  “I know that.” Elizabeth smiled at him. “There is one thing, though.”

  Gregory looked questioningly at the witch.

  “I need you mentally sharp and totally focused. Something I can make sure you will be if you will permit me.”

  Gregory shrugged. “I trust you. If it will help, do it.”

  Elizabeth hesitated for just a moment. ‘Oh, damn. Why did he have to put it that way?’ she thought. Resolutely, she rubbed her hands together, told the old ones to close their eyes, and then asked Gregory to watch her hands carefully. He nodded, and as he stared at them, Elizabeth unleashed the mind wipe.

  The brilliant flash was brief—just enough to wipe out the horror of the Lascion’s day. He stumbled back, hitting the mantel hard enough to knock several photos to the floor.

  “Oh, sorry. Not sure what happened,” Gregory apologized. Then, looking awkwardly about the room, added, “How’d I get here?”

  “I’ll fill you in as we go. Right now you need to say goodbye to your father. We’re in a hurry.”

  Blinking his confusion, Gregory looked about the room again, stopping when he caught sight of his father.

  “Dad! You’re … how’d you … I mean … Are you okay?”

  It was a tearful Urik who nodded to his son.

  “How did you get here?” Gregory asked, the hole in his memory stirring his confusion to a greater height.

  “Gregory,” Elizabeth interceded. “In rescuing your father we had to fight off a few feran. One got in a lucky blow. Knocked you silly for a time. I’m sure the memory of that battle will return. For now, trust me, if it weren't for you, your father wouldn’t be here with us. You saved him.”

  Her words were welcomed even though they made little sense to Gregory. Even so, in spite of his confusion, Gregory could tell the witch was in a hurry. He strode over to his father and wrapped his arms around him. A moment later, he turned to follow Elizabeth.

  Taking a broom and their weapons from the kitchen, Elizabeth took the Lascion’s hand and led him out of the house. When they reached the back yard, she turned to him. “Greg,” she said, then stopped. She reached out and drew him to her. The kiss was long and deep. “Greg,” she said as she looked up into his eyes, “you did well in there. I couldn’t have gotten your father out of the Barracks without you.”

  After a moment, Gregory swallowed with some difficulty and nodded. “What can I say? It’s all in a day’s work for a botanist.”

  Elizabeth smiled, got him settled onto the broom and blasted skyward.

  CHAPTER 17

  In seconds, the military complex shrunk to the size of a child’s building blocks set as the broomstick soared above the clouds. This Gregory knew because he made the mistake of looking down. Trees, buildings, the city of Zirndorf; all compressed in size, leaving Gregory convinced that only a narrow piece of wood was between him and a fall to certain death.

  “You can hang on to me if you want,” Elizabeth invited him as they pierced a cloud. ‘I really would like that,’ she added silently.

  Any other time, such an invitation would not have been turned down. Only he could not quite figure out how to make the shift. He was pretty certain he would not fall if he didn’t have both hands on the broom; he knew Elizabeth would not be so cavalier with his life. But when Gregory tried to get his right hand to reach toward the witch, it just wouldn’t let go.

  “Uh … I’ve got this,” Gregory fibbed, tightening his two-handed grip around the broom’s narrow, wooden diameter.

  “Suit yourself. Just let me know if you can’t hear. We’ve got some catching up to do before we reach our destination.”

  With that, the broom leaped into another gear. Thrown back by the sudden burst of speed, Gregory fought his way forward against the wind. He leaned close so he could hear Elizabeth as she told him the background details and her plan for when they reached their destination. Still, the noise was deafening.

  “Hang on,” Elizabeth yelled back.

  Gregory, thinking she was about to make some sort of terrifying maneuver, tightened his grip on the broom. But then, all of a
sudden, the noise and wind stopped.

  “There’s that better. Can you hear me now?” Elizabeth smiled.

  “What just happened?” Gregory asked.

  “I put up a shield so we can talk,” Elizabeth answered, and then began going over what she thought was necessary for him to know.

  Through it all, Gregory mostly prayed his hands would stop sweating, even though for the most part, they were superglued to the handle. The thought did occur to him that he could wrap his arms around her waist. But the idea of letting go of the broom just did not seem to make a whole lot of sense to his hands. When he heard Elizabeth say something about taking it easy for his sake and that he wouldn’t fall even if he let go, all he could do was curse his hands for sweating even more profusely.

  With the sun setting to their left and the stars popping through the graying sky to their right, Elizabeth recreated Gregory’s day. She laid the main groundwork with what actually happened and then embellished to fill in the cracks. A fight with three feran was the reason for his foggy memory. Torture, magically enhanced, became the reason Urik gave in. Hence, their broom flight; to get the bastard who did this to his loving, gentle father.

  Only once did Elizabeth stammer over the lies she was spinning. For the most part, she was proud of the memory she gave him and confident it would serve him well. What difference did it make that it wasn’t quite the way the situations were experienced?

  More importantly, he knew about the party they were going to be crashing. There would be magic, feran, SS troops, and a dragon. Also, there was the probability they would be moving through time, using lethal spells, and hopefully, getting the bad guys before the bad guys could get to them.

  All in all, the Lascion was reasonably prepared for the situation they were headed for, his faith in his father undisturbed, and Elizabeth hoped, still very fond of the woman driving the broom.

  Their destination—northern Germany, flight time—half an hour.

  ***

  Elizabeth landed the broom just east of Rostock, Germany. She never did get a clear answer from Urik as to why this was where the point of intersection manifested. All he gave her was that they needed a nearby body of water to enhance the transmission. Also required, was at least a hundred acres of countryside for privacy. He also surmised that a large and sturdy barn-like building would be vital for housing the dragon if it should be necessary to bring it to this timeline.

  Since Haushofer wanted the point of intersection in Germany, the Baltic Sea was the obvious choice for their body of water. A farm midway between Rostock and Stralsund set in some rolling hills looked like a probable place to provide privacy. As luck would have it, the large farm included a very large barn.

  On Elizabeth’s first flyover, barn and farmhouse appeared quite small. This was only because Elizabeth was not taking any chances on someone spotting them from the ground. Much to Gregory’s discomfort, she had the broom as high as they could go without the need for oxygen.

  Relying solely on coordinates, Elizabeth did not bother looking down until her spell brought the broom to a standstill. Up until that point, Gregory thought he was doing quite well. But when the broom crawled to a stop as if it were out of gas, he couldn’t help himself. He just knew something had malfunctioned.

  “What’s … what’s going on?” Gregory gulped.

  “We’re here.” Elizabeth, focused on the task at hand, didn’t notice his discomfort. “There’s the barn, off to the left. That other structure must be the farmhouse.”

  Just now, Gregory really did not care. But as the broom handle didn’t obscure his vision, all he had to do to check it out was take his eyes off the middle of Elizabeth’s back. Cautiously, he did just that.

  “How can you tell?” he asked, certain he could not differentiate one speck from another.

  “Use your magic.”

  “Oh, of course,” he said, shaking his head.

  Seconds later, his memory offered up the correct spell. Zooming in, he found both house and barn to be a lot larger.

  “Maybe everyone is in the barn,” Gregory suggested when his scan of the area revealed little more than buildings and large animals.

  “Not everyone. That half-track in the drive is manned. I see at least three sentries around those troop trucks. Likely there are more on the porch and … see just on either side of the barn … that’s four more.”

  Ratcheting up his spell’s magnification, Gregory confirmed what the witch was describing without commenting on his shortsightedness. Fighting and spying weren’t things he typically did. He fancied himself an athlete, a botanist, and an animal lover. He did not see himself as being one with intrigue, danger, and death. Perhaps that’s why Elizabeth’s tale of him taking on three feran seemed a little farfetched.

  ‘You’d think I’d remember that,’ he worried.

  “Hold on!” Elizabeth called out.

  The witch’s warning came without time to react. Gregory’s sweat-drenched hands had yet to tighten when the broom nosed down and raced earthward. Miraculously, Gregory was still atop the broom when it pulled into a hover three feet from the ground.

  ***

  “Where are we?” Gregory asked, resisting the urge to kiss the ground.

  “Maybe a half-mile from the farm. It’s not quite dark enough to risk getting any closer.”

  “That’s fine with me. After dangling like that, my legs could use a little exercise.”

  “Shall we?” Elizabeth announced, stepping out briskly.

  Gregory, still feeling a little disoriented from the flight, was slow to respond. Still, with his longer legs, he quickly made up the deficit.

  “Hey, what’s the rush?” Gregory asked as he pulled up even with Elizabeth. He was feeling off; like he wasn’t ready to handle anything unexpected that might come at them. He just wanted two minutes to get himself together.

  “How are your shields?” the witch responded, completely ignoring Gregory’s question.

  “Would you just give me a minute to get my head back on straight after that flight?”

  Elizabeth stopped and turned to face him. “Look, I need to know,” Elizabeth insisted. “We won’t have time to take a break once things start happening. You have to be able to think on your feet.”

  “All right,” he gave in. “I guess they’re okay.”

  “Come on, Gregory, this is serious. Can you generate one that will stop bullets?”

  “Actually, until I met you, no one had ever shot at me.”

  “Well, they might do so again today. How about I go over the nuts and bolts of shield making?”

  For the rest of the distance, Elizabeth reviewed the magic involved with creating a shield, and Gregory kept responding with the words, “I know.” Still, Elizabeth was fairly confident he had listened to her every word.

  With Elizabeth’s makeshift silver swords at their sides and weapons at the ready, the two entered the farm from a stand of tall oaks. From the trees to the back of the farmhouse was a yard of short grass; barren of anything they could use as cover.

  “Let’s hope no one’s looking out a back window,” she whispered as she broke into a sprint. Gregory followed reaching the back of the farmhouse just after the witch.

  “Remember,” she whispered. “Magic first and keep your shield up at all times.”

  Gregory nodded, taking a moment to wipe his hands on his trousers. Then following the witch’s command, he started off to his right.

  The plan was to circle the house in opposite directions, meet at the porch, then hit the guards from both sides. If the other soldiers weren’t alerted, they would then deal with what they found inside the farmhouse before addressing the sentries stationed about the farm.

  ‘That should be simple enough,’ Elizabeth told herself.

  Granted, Gregory had held his own at the Barracks, but without question, fighting feran or humans wasn’t something he had a lot of practice with. ‘But then who has?’ She frowned, reminding herself that she, too,
was not a warrior. It was just that, for Gregory’s sake, she figured she had better fake it.

  ***

  Nearing the front of the house, Elizabeth carefully peeked around the corner. There were three feran on the porch. Beyond the porch, the witch also caught a glimpse of Gregory. He was in position.

  She had not thought to coordinate a spell, and not sure as to what to do, decided to take another peek to see what Gregory was doing. As she did, the Piscion stepped into the open and unleashed a spell.

  Two of the three feran dropped, bound by Gregory’s magic. Elizabeth followed his lead, and the third joined the others. Though the feran dropped with thuds, it wasn’t loud enough to raise an alarm.

  Leaping onto the front porch, they met at the front door. Elizabeth took a moment to squeeze Gregory’s hand.

  “That was pretty impressive, even for a botanist.”

  She was stepping forward to enter the house when Gregory stopped her.

  “You’d better let me check for more guards,” he whispered as he slipped into the house.

  ‘He’s adapting quickly,’ she thought with a smile as she quietly closed the door behind her.

  Inside, they found the family whose farm the Nazis had invaded. Haushofer had tied them up with no explanation as to why. They were told that when the soldiers finished they would be released.

  That information posed a problem for Elizabeth. If she and Gregory could accomplish what they were after, there might not be any soldiers left to release the family. With that in mind, Elizabeth released everyone and then waited for the family to complete a bathroom break before using magic on the ropes to bind the entire family.

  “Phew … that took a while. Let’s get going,” Elizabeth whispered. Using a row of bushes that lined the driveway as cover, they worked their way from the house toward a truck parked near the barn. Just beyond that were the sentries who were positioned on either side of the barn’s double doors.

  “What if we can’t get back here?” Gregory grasped her arm looking worriedly back at the house.

  “The spell is timed. They’ll get loose in a few hours regardless. Now shush, they’re just on the other side of that truck. And remember—”