Burn Me Deadly: An Eddie LaCrosse Novel

by Alex Bledsoe

  “You do not,” Candora said at last, like a disbelieving child.

  “Uh-huh,” I said in the same manner. “They’re really here, just like Laura said. But I can’t move. Please, help me out of here. I did what you wanted.” If I sounded any more pitiable, I’d have to change into short pants and a ruffled shirt.

  Slowly the dragon’s lower jaw fell open. The blue fire danced as it waited for the breath that would send it to envelop me. It didn’t come.

  More silence. “You actually have the eggs?” Candora said at last, unable to hide the excitement in his voice.

  “Yes,” I said with desperation. “Right here in front of me. Two of them.”

  “Okay, then . . . what do they look like?”

  I closed my eyes and sighed with relief; he’d taken the bait. Now I had to set the hook. I turned to the egg on the blanket, and suddenly the dragon spread its wings as much as the tunnel allowed, blocking most of the light. I had to swallow hard before speaking. “I dunno, they’re, like, a couple of feet long, they have shells that are all multicolored, and they’re hot, like something inside them is burning. You can see something moving inside one of them.” I added more whine. “Please, man, I’m dying in here.”

  Still more silence, but not so long this time. “Crawl out where I can see you.” The voice was stronger and clearer, telling me he stood right at the edge.

  “I can’t crawl; my leg bone’s poking out and I’ve been bleeding for hours.”

  “You better manage.” He was trying to sound firm, but the excitement in his voice gave him away.

  “All right,” I said, just loud enough for him to hear. “I’m . . .” I had to risk a scream, or at least a cry of pain. It echoed through the short tunnel and sounded truly wretched. The dragon did not seem to notice, remaining poised with its mouth open and wings spread.

  “Oh, God, I can’t move; it hurts,” I said, letting my voice tremble. “Please, get me out of here; I don’t want to die like this. . . .”

  “All right, hold on; shut the hell up. You sound like a damn schoolgirl. I’m sending your honey down; she can drag your wimp ass out.”

  Every muscle I had was gathered for action now.

  “Oh, hell, not you, too,” I heard him say in disgust. “Come on; get up. Your boyfriend’s down there; don’t you want to see him?” There was a pause. “Do you hear me? I’m not kidding, I’ll cut your damn tits off if you don’t get—”

  Suddenly he yelled, and past the dragon I saw him fall into the hole. Yes! Liz had understood and played it perfectly, pretending to be too weak to move until she could catch him off-guard.

  Candora rolled nimbly to his feet. “You bitch, I’ll—”

  He never finished the sentence. The dragon, startled by his loud and sudden appearance, forgot me and rushed from the shadows toward him. It hissed like a dozen pots of boiling water and rattled its wings like canvas in a windstorm. When Candora saw it, his eyes opened wide and he went for his sword, but his broken thumb interfered. Then it didn’t matter, because the dragon engulfed his whole upper body in a ball of blue flame. His hair and clothing combusted at once, and his skin made a meaty sizzling sound that I’ll never forget. His scream, high and girlish, died in a wet gurgle as the fire scorched down his throat, melting all the tissue it touched.

  I had no time to gloat or enjoy. I whipped the knife from my boot, ran down the short tunnel and threw myself on the dragon’s back. My weight knocked it flat, and its wings tangled beneath and around me. Its feet clawed at the ground, scratching like spear tips against the stone. If it threw me off, I’d be just as toasted as Candora.

  I pinned its neck just behind its head, the way you would a poisonous snake. Its wiry, squirming form was impossible to hold for long, but luckily I didn’t have to. I slipped my knife under its neck and, with all my strength, ripped it up through flesh and muscle and bone, severing its head.

  The head rolled away into the light, where its mouth continued to work as if it could still spew fire. The body thrashed for a moment, then went limp. Past it, Candora lay smoldering, his legs moving weakly. From the waist up he was blackened, and the smell of his cooked flesh mixed with that of the dragon’s flames. I gagged and tried to breathe only through my mouth.

  I climbed off the dragon, my heart pounding. I wanted fresh air more than anything. I crawled over the carcass and up the soot-covered rock. Candora made a sound I’ll hear in my nightmares and reached one knobby, burnt extremity toward me.

  The sun had not yet risen above the horizon, but the clouds were ablaze with its promise. Liz lay facedown on the ground just beyond the hole. She was still naked, her wrists tied in front, and except for the wind blowing her hair she didn’t move. I knelt beside her and turned her over. Bruises distorted her face, and her eyes were closed. “Liz! ” I cried, and this time I didn’t have to fake the panic.

  Her eyes opened. I wanted to cry. Her lips were dry and cracked, and the corners of her lips were flayed where the gag had rubbed them raw. “Can we have a better plan next time?” she croaked.

  “Promise,” I said, and kissed her all over her face. I tasted tears, not sure if they were hers or mine.

  “I feel terrible,” she said when I let her speak again.

  I spotted my jacket on the ground where I’d thrown it earlier. I retrieved it and wrapped it around her. “We’ll get you to the moon priestesses; they’ll fix you up. Is anything broken?”

  She slowly, laboriously shook her head. “I don’t think I can walk, though.”

  “That’s okay; I’ll carry you.”

  She managed a small smile. “All the way back to town?”

  I felt like I could at that moment. “If I have to.”

  She reached one hand up to my face, moving slowly because of her injuries. “Not yet. I have to know, Eddie.”

  “Know what?”

  Something grew young and sad and hopeful in her eyes. “Were there really dragon eggs down there?”

  I nodded.

  “You’re not just telling me that because you think I’m about to die, are you?”

  “No. Because you’re not about to die. There were eggs down there. One hatched.”

  I’d never seen a look of such sad eloquence. “What?”

  “It hatched. There was a dragon down there. I had to kill it.”

  Tears welled in her eyes. “A real dragon?” she said in a small voice.

  I nodded.

  “And it’s dead?”

  “I had to, sweetie,” and felt myself unaccountably wanting to cry, too. “It would’ve killed me, and maybe you, too.”

  Her lower lip trembled. “Can I see it?”

  The second-to-last thing I wanted to do was climb back down in that hole and drag the dragon carcass out. The very last thing I wanted to do was cause Liz any more pain or distress. So I did climb down in the hole, tossed the surprisingly light headless dragon over my shoulder and was about to climb out again when a thin voice, barely audible, said, “Don’t leave me.”

  At least I think that’s what it said. Candora was moving, his arms—if you could still call them that—reaching imploringly for me. His face was completely gone, with only a gaping orifice through which his distorted voice emanated.

  I didn’t say anything. He couldn’t see me, or probably even hear me. At best he felt my movements through the ground; maybe he just hoped someone was still there.

  “Don’t leave me,” he repeated.

  Burns from dragon flames never heal.

  I remembered Laura Lesperitt, and Nicky. I remembered Liz hanging in the shack.

  I turned away and climbed out of the hole.

  The sun had now officially risen, blasting us with its golden light. The morning wind stirred, and crows announced their interest in the cooked meat down in the hole. Liz sat up now, clutching the jacket around her. She coughed and trembled, but when she saw what I carried a look of such heartbreak filled her face that I could say nothing. I gently stretched the headless carc
ass out before her; in death it appeared far more delicate and fragile, and in the sun its black scales shone with the same rainbow pattern as the eggs.

  I stood over it. Liz just stared with a look I could not identify.

  “There’s another egg in the cave,” I said quietly. “It’s still in one piece, and I think it’s about to hatch. I need to go smash it before it does.”

  She didn’t look up, but reached one hand out to gently touch the creature’s shiny skin.

  “Did you hear me?” I asked gently.

  She nodded without looking. “This is no time for the fire dreams are made of,” she said, and in those words I heard the little girl who’d once believed in the divinity of dragons. “No time for gods you can touch.”

  I went back down in the hole, retrieved Candora’s sword and used it to smash the last remaining dragon’s egg. The smell was awful, and the mostly formed creature that spewed forth writhed for a few agonizing moments before I mercifully cut it in half. Then I drove his own sword through Candora’s heart, an act of mercy that most of me argued against. But I was too weary to be a total bastard.

  I speared the severed dragon’s head on my knife and brought it up with me. I placed it beside the rest of the corpse. The eyes were still open, still black, and the teeth gleamed white. Liz sat just as I’d left her, one hand on the dragon.

  “She’s a female,” Liz said between gulping breaths. “You can tell by the coloring.”

  “Lumina,” I said.

  She nodded. “Lumina.” Then she sobbed the way people do when they’ve lost something precious. And I guess she had.

  chapter

  THIRTY

  I

  collected all the horses—mine plus Liz’s, Candora’s and Marion’s—and after retrieving my sword burned down the old miner’s hut. The crows, vultures and rats attracted to Candora’s handiwork squawked and ran madly from the smoke. The ground was too rocky to give Marion a proper burial, and I doubted what was left of him would survive the trip back to Neceda intact. A pyre is a good way for a warrior to go, anyway. Even one who cried like a baby as he was eviscerated; even one who killed Hank Pinster. Candora had definitely balanced the scales for that crime.

  Liz was in really rough shape and couldn’t ride on her own. I searched the hut before I torched it, but her clothes were gone. Rather than try to get back to town right away, I made for Bella Lou and Buddy’s place. It would give us shelter and Liz a place to rest, and maybe I could find some discarded clothes for her as well.

  As we approached, though, I saw smoke rising from the chimney. When we reached the clearing, Bella Lou and the two kids emerged to greet us. Bella Lou looked sad, and tired, but when she saw Liz’s condition she went right to work. The children cleared a bed, Liz drank some medicinal tea and she was hard asleep within minutes. Bella Lou then treated her injuries with some homemade remedies. At no point did Bella Lou ask me what had happened.

  Later, after I’d cleaned up a bit as well, Bella joined me on the porch. She packed and lit a long pipe, and together we watched the trees wave in the wind. The kids played quietly in the yard.

  “So you came back,” I said.

  “Yeah.” She handed me Frankie’s money bag. “It’s all there. We don’t do charity. We’d always planned to leave if the government came after us, but this wasn’t the government’s doing. It was Buddy’s.”

  I nodded. “He really did kill someone. A friend of mine, actually.”

  “I know. He came and told me about it first. Cried like one of the children. I made him go to town and confess.”

  “You did?”

  “Yes. And I know you tried to help him. Thank you.”

  “I owed him one. But if you knew he was guilty, why were you outside his cell yelling about conspiracies?”

  Her expression didn’t change. “I wanted him to die knowing his beliefs went on. He was a weak, spineless little man, but I loved him. It was the last thing I could give him.”

  The little girl Toy brought me a cup of tea. She curtsied after I took it. I thanked her and kissed her hand just the way a prince would. She grinned and ran away before I could see her blush. To Bella Lou I said, “Yep. Beliefs are important.”

  Now she smiled, wry and very sad. “Only if they’re true.”

  “If it’s any consolation, there should be no more dragon people bothering you.” I nodded at the horses, indicating Candora’s and Marion’s. “And those two? You can have them.”

  She shook her head and blew a puff from the pipe. “Like I said, we don’t take charity. We’ll be fine.”

  “Charity, hell. The guys those two belonged to are dead. I don’t want the bad luck.”

  She thought for a moment. “I can understand that,” she said at last. “Thanks.”

  LIZ slept most of the day, and did not stir until sundown. I dozed on the porch, and when I woke every injury I’d accumulated made sure I knew it was around. The red-scarf’s knife cut on my shoulder was particularly painful. Bella Lou cleaned and bandaged it for me, and while I slept she also mended and got the bloodstain out of my coat. Buddy had been an idiot not to treat her better.

  We all ate some vague stew that Bella Lou conjured up. I didn’t recognize the meat in it; I assumed it was best not to ask.

  Liz still needed genuine medical attention, especially for the cut on her thigh. She borrowed some of Bella Lou’s clothes and we headed back to Neceda. She was still in no condition to ride on her own, so I tied her horse behind mine and she rode huddled in front of me, as Laura Lesperitt had done. The ride through the darkening forest was blessedly smooth and uneventful, and she quickly fell asleep.

  That peacefulness vanished as we emerged onto the plain. In the distance, something big was once again burning in Neceda, spewing flames tall enough to be reflected in the Gusay. I couldn’t make out what it might be from this distance.

  It was full dark as we entered town, and the streets were empty since everyone had once again congregated to watch something burn up. The crowd gathered at the corner of Ditch Street. Being on horseback let us see over the other onlookers.

  Someone let out a cheer as a cloud of sparks billowed forth, and the noise woke Liz. She squinted against the light and asked sleepily, “What’s burning now?”

  “The Lizard’s Kiss,” I said.

  Like the stable before, it was already a lost cause. Since all the doors and windows had been reinforced and sealed, the fire had gone straight up through the relatively flimsy roof, and the walls acted as a chimney that sent flames shooting into the night sky. The fire also worked its way around the jambs and sills, gnawing into the night air. The front door was open, and a dozen red-scarved men and crimson-cloaked women stood in the street staring up at the flames. The rich boys looked most confused, while the few hill people Candora hadn’t recruited seemed resigned to their bad luck. Neceda’s normal population gave them plenty of room.

  On his knees at the bottom of the stairs was old Tempcott, pounding the dirt and wailing, “Why, Lumina? Why?” Prince Frederick, unrecognized and aimless without guidance, stood beside him like a lost puppy.

  “Lumina . . . ,” Liz repeated softly. “Do you think . . . ?”

  The lone dragon hatchling had left the cave the previous night, but it could not have set a fire that only flared to life now . . . could it? “No. Just a coincidence.”

  A man marched through the crowd, dragging one of the red-cloaked girls after him. People laughed mockingly as they passed. As they got nearer I recognized flatboat captain Sharky Shavers, and beneath the cloak was his daughter, Minnow.

  “. . . not hanging around with them goddamned freaks!” Sharky said in mid-bellow as he passed without noticing us. His eyes were downcast in shame and aggravation.

  Minnow tried to simultaneously pull her wrist free and keep the cloak closed to protect her modesty. “I am not a child, Daddy! I need something to believe in!”

  “You’ll believe in my foot up your ass if you ever do anything
like . . .” His voice faded into the crowd.

  After a moment Liz said with certainty, “We’re never having children.”

  “Agreed,” I said, and kissed the top of her head.

  There was another commotion up the street. Callie stood over someone crouched on the ground, hands covering his head. She beat at him anyway with what looked like a broom handle. “You lying sack of donkey shit!” she yelled. “This was your ‘big-time gig’? You dishonest lump of cat turd!”

  Tony the minstrel risked a look up at her. “Baby, please, I can explain—”

  “Explain how come you’re a ball of chicken piss?” she screamed, and smacked him again. His partner watched nearby, but was smart enough not to come between Callie and the object of her ire.

  “And,” Liz added, “we’re never breaking up, because I don’t have the energy to go through all that drama.”

  “Agreed,” I repeated.

  There was little else to see, and nothing to do, so I took Liz on to the moon goddess hospital. She’d befriended most of the staff during my convalescence, and they descended on her like a benevolent swarm of tittering hens. They quickly took her from me, cleaned and dressed her wounds, then placed her in a quiet room for rest. Mother Mallory took me firmly aside and told me to go home and clean up so Liz wouldn’t wake and see me looking so awful.

  “And please,” she added, “take a bath. Whatever you’ve been rolling in almost makes my eyes water.”

  I still carried the scent from the cave, so I had to agree with her. Another set of clothes for the fire; at least they wouldn’t burn with me in them, the way Candora’s had.

  I went home and cleaned up, then stopped at Angelina’s. It was late, but the crowd was still healthy thanks to the fire. Callie stood in the corner, watching Tony the minstrel mop up some spilled ale. She had her hands on her hips and, although she no longer carried the broomstick, I got the distinct impression she wouldn’t hesitate to smack him around bare-handed if he got out of line. Some wags at a nearby table snickered and made snide comments.