“Okay.” It was weird that Bear wanted to stay here, but he’d been disappearing from our adventures quite often lately. He must be up to something. I’d have to figure out what after we dealt with the dragon. She was dangerous. Bear was just cryptic.
“When my brother returns from school, tell him where we went.” Papa pointed to the portal then had to shield his eyes when its glow intensified, turning it white-hot for a moment before it faded back to its usual purple.
“Will do. You have my word on that.” Bear waved without looking up from the page he was reading.
“Ow.” I rubbed my smarting eyes. Papa had blocked some of the light with his body because he was more than twice my height, but that light had been way too bright. Something must have gone very wrong on the other side of that portal. I rushed toward it before Papa could stop me.
Dragon Interrupted
[Somewhere in Between Worlds]
Things hadn’t worked out like the so-called Newsletter-Dragon had thought they would. When she’d dived into that portal, she’d forgotten one important fact—it was magical and she wasn’t. The nice three-dimensional body she’d just been piloting disintegrated, leaving just the idea of her behind, and she was pissed at that because her plan hinged on having a physical body that could manipulate certain objects. Oh well, there was nothing she could do about that setback until she exited the portal, but transiting it was taking a lot longer than it should have.
Was it stuck or something? Had it lost its fix on the real world where her cyber kingdom dwelled? The Newsletter-Dragon would have clicked her claws together to break up the monotony of all that purple light surrounding her, but her damned claws weren’t corporeal at the moment. They were dark spaces inside a latticework of blue-glowing ones and zeroes.
Why wasn’t she moving? She should be. Otherwise, she’d never reach the end of this bridge between worlds. The Newsletter-Dragon unfurled her wings, but they were like her claws. Lines of blue-glowing code sketched graceful arcs behind her, like luminous ASCII art. Since they had no substance, flapping them did no good. Damn it.
Well, that left only one option: walking. If she was reduced to locomotion again, she’d do it with style. The Newsletter-Dragon pushed to a stand on her hind legs and put some swagger into her stride.
A series of slow claps stopped her in her tracks. Who dared to mock her? Better yet, who had followed her into this magical tunnel? If it was that infernal little boy, she’d—do what? Snarl at him? Because that was all she could do without a proper body that had some heft to it.
But when she turned to look back the way she’d come, there was no one there. That was odd. Where had that clapping come from?
“It looks like you could use some help,” a man said. But he wasn’t behind her. When she faced forward again, he wasn’t in front of her either. Where was that guy?
“Where are you?” The Newsletter-Dragon put her long neck to good use and scanned both ends of the tunnel.
Portals didn’t talk, so it wasn’t talking to her. What a preposterous thought. Portals weren’t sentient. She was losing her mind in here. Tech and magic didn’t mix, and neither did ideas.
“I’m stuck between worlds, much like yourself, but we can help each other.” A faint shadow moved against the light behind and to her left. It was man-shaped.
“How?” The Newsletter-Dragon approached the shadow. It was barely there, but other than her and the purple-glowing walls of this portal, there was nothing else there. So as improbable as it seemed, that shadow had to be her mysterious interlocutor. “Who are you?”
“Come, Sinner, to your dark father fly. Let us whisper lies that fortify.” The smudge marring a section of the luminous wall darkened until it had the crisp outline of a guy in flowing robes.
“That sounds like a line from one of my Scribe’s books. Are you one of her villains?” The Newsletter-Dragon folded her forelimbs over her chest.
“Maybe I am. Does it matter?” His shadow grew until it dwarfed her.
The Newsletter-Dragon supposed it didn’t since Melinda wouldn’t like what she had in mind. But did she want to team up with a true villain?
As the only digital character in the cast and a dragon to boot, the Newsletter-Dragon had always been a gray character who helped or hindered depending on which provided the most entertainment value at the time. If she accepted this shadow man’s help, he’d want help in return. After all, that was quid pro quo.
“Come, Sinner, your time is nigh.” The shadow-man extended his hand to her.
She already owed one entity a favor.
***
[Earlier in Cyberspace]
The Newsletter-Dragon curled up and admired her horde, a pile of sparkling email addresses. Each one represented a person she could contact or not. If anyone, like that annoying child, Ran, wanted to talk to them, he had to go through her. After all, it was her list.
“But you want more than this, don’t you?” a woman asked, and she sounded disturbingly like the Scribe who’d invented the Newsletter-Dragon because she couldn’t manage her email list.
“Who said that?” The dragon scanned her digital environment. She’d rendered it out of quality three-dimensional models because every dragon needed an extensive cave system with piles of gold, jewels, and cool-looking weaponry. What self-respecting dragon wouldn’t have at least a few laser guns, plasma rifles, and a sophisticated monitoring system? She was digital, and thus not limited to claws and fire.
Their red targeting lasers played over the walls of her cave, lighting up the warning she’d carved into the rock: danger! Beware of the dragon. But they didn’t reveal the speaker. A message icon flashed up on a translucent screen that appeared in front of her. The Newsletter-Dragon scanned it for viruses and malware and found none, but she still wasn’t sure the message was safe to open.
She checked its header. Nothing incriminating or concerning there. Mindful of her duty to protect the personal information subscribers shared with her when they signed up for Melinda’s newsletter, the dragon moved the message to a secure server with no links to her horde, her treasured list.
The back wall of her cave rotated to reveal a futuristic command center all sized for a dragon to operate. Sleek consoles descended from the ceiling, and she tapped on one to open the message. A three-dimensional projection appeared if a woman in a black dress which had spikes protruding from its hem and train. I guess she doesn’t do a whole lot of walking around. One fall and she could impale herself.
The woman wore a matching crown made of twisted iron spikes. She fixed black-on-black eyes on the Newsletter-Dragon. What was with all that black? Black eyeliner, black eyeshadow, black lipstick, black talons—were her teeth black too? Yes, they were, and her gums and her forked tongue too. How deliciously creepy.
“Let me guess. You’re here to formally request a copy of all data I have on file for you? Or is this a forget me request? Though with a getup like that, you’ll be hard to forget.”
The spike-wearing woman laughed.
“Privacy is not a laughing matter.” The Newsletter-Dragon’s claw hovered over the end message icon on her board.
“Oh, I know it isn’t. But you want more than to be a gatekeeper, don’t you?” The Lady of Spikes spread her hands, showing off her talons. They weren’t all that impressive though.
The Newsletter-Dragon had longer claws, and hers weren’t black. They were gold. Here, in her cyber kingdom, she could render her body any way she wanted, and she liked being brilliantly blue. Translucent scales covered the blue-glowing lattice of ones and zeroes that comprised her internal code. But she didn’t need to be completely blue, so the spikes that ran down her back and out to the tip of her spade-shaped tail were gold too. After all, every dragon needs a little bling.
But that lady with the strange fashion sense was right about one thing. The Newsletter-Dragon did want more than this lonely vigil. Some page time would be a nice start. I deserve a story about me.
T
he Lady of Spikes, who still hadn’t introduced herself, nodded as if she’d read the dragon’s mind, but that was impossible. Her thoughts were encrypted. “I see it in you. You want more than a kingdom of code and a throne of data. You want materiality. You want both to matter and to be composed of matter.”
The idea was attractive especially because all the characters, like her pint-sized nemesis, possessed a physicality she lacked, and they were fictional. But I’m not. I’m as real as the newsletter list I guard. I matter. I should have all the page time, not that twerp, Ran. He doesn’t even have any magic or special skills unless repeatedly needing to be rescued counts.
The Newsletter-Dragon removed her claws from the panel and rested them on her hip instead. “Maybe I do want to have matter. But let’s get one thing straight right now. I do matter.”
“Of course, you do. Everyone matters, but not everyone is respected. You could change that.” The Lady of Spikes cupped the air in her hands, and a transparent blue-glowing sphere of data spun on her palm.
“Next, you’ll tell me you can make that happen by giving me substance?” The Newsletter-Dragon raised an eye ridge in derision, but she also surreptitiously scanned that woman and the sphere she’d conjured.
The readings made the Newsletter-Dragon’s eyes widen in surprise. It was an algorithm for a 3d printer to fabricate a dragon’s body. Oh, not a real one, of course, but one made of plastic and metal, which was infinitely better than a fleshy one. It would need some circuitry and a CPU she could inhabit, but oh, how she wanted it. “What’s the catch? What do you get in return for making me a body?”
“That’s the beauty of this. I want you to do exactly what you’ve been wanting to do.” The Lady of Spikes smiled, revealing her blackened teeth again.
Villainy must not come with a dental plan because those jagged choppers had never seen a dentist. Neither had the Newsletter-Dragon, but she was digital, and she’d made damn sure to render herself with perfect white teeth that gleamed in the reflected glow of her bytes. Though given this woman’s fascination with sharp things, she might have filed her teeth to points to keep with the theme.
“And what exactly is that?” The Newsletter-Dragon leaned toward the projection of that woman.
“This.” She held up her other hand, and a clockwork insect crawled out of her sleeve and into her palm. It cast a projection on the wall of a green-eyed child the dragon knew well. Behind him, a dragon stomped into view, and the boy fled.
There was fear in his eyes and the respect the Newsletter-Dragon had long been denied. She reached for that image and the future it promised as the projection cut off.
“You could rule them all,” the Lady of Spikes said, her dark eyes glittered in the dragon’s glow.
“Yes, I could.” The Newsletter-Dragon lowered a claw toward the accept button that had just appeared on her screen. “Who are you? I never got your name.”
“You can call me, Dysteria.”
“How do I rule them all?” The dragon paused. Her claw hovered over the accept button, but she wouldn’t push it until she had an answer to that question.
“With this.” Dysteria held out her hand, and a black orb appeared on it. “As it grows in power, so does its owner.”
“What is it?” The dragon reached for the orb, but it was just a projection.
“A little bit of chaos. Maybe even the seed of their destruction. That’s what you really want, isn’t it? To get one over on them? Well, this will put you permanently on top where a creature of your grandeur belongs.” Dysteria closed her fist, and the projection cut off. “Do we have an accord?”
“If you’ll tell me where I can get that orb, then yes. Yes, we do.” Visions of that orb danced in the Newsletter-Dragon’s head. She needed to get herself one ASAP.
“Of course, just tap the accept button, and I’ll tell you everything.” Dysteria smiled, displaying her sharpened teeth.
The dragon tapped that button, and the bargain was struck. “Now, tell me about that orb.”
***
[Now in between Worlds]
The Newsletter-Dragon blinked, banishing that memory and refocused on the shadow man. Did she need one more bargain? No. She needed a body and an incubator for the seed of her new power. Besides, this guy had a fell feel.
She just wanted to get one up on Ran and steal the narrative of one of his books for a while. Every hero needed a nemesis, and for better or for worse, he was hers. She’d enjoy turning his world upside down.
But this rhyming shadow offered a more permanent solution. Did she want that? Could she cross that line? The Newsletter-Dragon regarded her transparent claws and slowly fisted them.
Glowing Tunnel, Pensive Papa
[Mount Eredren, Shayari]
I charged through the glowing-purple portal into a tunnel of the same color and luminosity. That wasn’t supposed to happen. I should have popped out the other side in my Scribe’s apartment.
Papa followed a heartbeat after me because I’m little, and I still need both adult and magical supervision. “Why’d you stop?” He nudged me gently with his leg to get me moving.
“Because we entered a portal, not a tunnel. So, what’s all this?” I gestured to the walls, the floor, and the ceiling. They all glowed the same eye-watering purple, and it went on for what seemed like miles. I used to like that color, but all this light was hard on my eyes, forcing me to squint.
Papa had no such difficulties, but his eyes glowed all the time, so he was used to seeing a lot of light. “Maybe something’s wrong with it.”
“Can you check since you have magic and stuff?”
Papa looked at the ceiling. He tended to do that when I asked the impossible. “I can try, but this isn’t made of the kind of magic I can work.”
I’d figured that out already since it wasn’t green. “But you almost teleported once, so you have some sort of—um—trans-locational magic. That’s a real word, right?”
“I don’t know.” Papa pinched the bridge of his nose as if he had a headache. Then he went all quiet and still.
I wrapped an arm around his thigh and leaned into him, just to reassure myself he was still with me even though his mind was elsewhere. His stillness didn’t last long though. After another minute, his hand dropped from his eyes and rested on my head. “Did you get anything from your magic?”
Papa shook his head. I couldn’t see his expression because of all the light, some of which, pumped out of his eyes.
“Oh.” I hadn’t expected that, so the news left me speechless for a moment. That was a rare occurrence for me. Usually, Papa was the one who couldn’t find any words.
“Come on. The exit must be nearby. Let’s find it.” Papa headed off to do that and took me with him because I was still holding tightly to his leg. But Papa had a very physical job that involved a lot of running and jumping and some other things he never talked about, so I wasn’t much of an impediment.
“What if it’s broken? Could we be trapped in here forever?” I squeezed his leg, and he dragged me a few more feet across the purple light that made up the floor. It felt solid, but what if it suddenly dropped out from under us?
Papa brushed the hair away from my eyes. “Let’s not worry about that right now. We only just arrived. Let’s have a look around first.”
“Okay.” I wanted to be part of the solution, so I let go of his leg and grabbed his big hand instead. But I had to run to keep up with him.
Papa stood way over six-feet tall, and he had very long legs. One step for him was about four or five for me. I grimaced at the purple glow stretching incalculably far into the distance. If this tunnel went on for too much longer, I’d need another method of transportation. My legs were already tiring, and Papa was just plodding along in deference to my short legs.
I eyed his big strong arms. He would pick me up if I asked, but he was tired from working all night for the Rangers of Mount Eredren, our home. I could tell by the way his shoulders slumped. “What did you do at
work last night?”
“Whatever they told me to do.” Papa rubbed his eyes with his free hand.
“And what was that?” I persisted. That dragon had ruined my plan to find out, so Fate owed me some answers.
But Papa just shook his head and went all quiet on me. Drat. Foiled again and by my hero of all people.
“Was it that bad?” I squeezed his fingers. My hand was too small to encompass more than that.
“No, not bad, just frustrating.”
“Oh. What was so frustrating about it?” This was more than Papa had said about this mysterious ‘work’ thing for weeks. I might owe that dragon a small debt of gratitude for giving me this opportunity. I pressed a hand to my mouth to check that my jaw wasn’t hanging open at the thought of owing her anything. Fates forbid that!
“Everything. They just—” Papa trailed off as something dark flashed past in my peripheral vision. He must have seen it too because we both turned to look behind us, but the shadow was gone. “Did you see something?”
“Yes, but there’s too much light here for any shadows to form.” I’d learned that before I could toddle thanks to Papa’s over-active magic, which always glowed the same brilliant green as his eyes.
Before we could turn around again, the tunnel ended, and we fell. The world spun around us and grew a lot darker and a lot less purple. Where would we end up? Hopefully, on something soft in my Scribe’s apartment. I wanted to find a nice cushion at the end of this fall. But the longer we fell, the more I worried there’d be a dragon at the end.
I squeezed Papa’s hand, but there wasn’t anything his magic could do. It didn’t like air, and there was a lot of air rushing past us. I squeezed my eyes closed and prayed. That was all I could do.
Don’t Mess With Her
Dragon Spells Page 3
