“Let me through. I’m a nurse,” a woman who wasn’t my Scribe said. A pair of shiny shoes appeared in my peripheral vision followed by a dark hand holding a rolled-up towel. “Here, put this under his head.”
Papa wasn’t shaking as hard now. Maybe the seizure was ebbing. I stuffed the towel under his head and looked up at the nurse.
She wore a big, floppy orange hat, and it shaded her dark face, but not her dazzling smile. This must have been her day off. She asked a couple of questions I didn’t know the answers to like, “is he on any medication? Is he epileptic? Diabetic?”
I shrugged. “Last time this happened, Bear said he had something called ‘low magic.’” Which made sense because no light leaked out of Papa’s closed eyes. He stilled suddenly, and I put my ear to his chest to make sure he was still breathing. Thank Fate, his chest rose and fell with each shallow breath.
A warm hand ran through my wet hair then rubbed slow circles on my back like Papa did to calm me. It was the nurse’s hand though, not his hand because Papa was unconscious.
“He’s young and fit. He’ll be okay, Little One.”
“My name’s Ran.” I wiped a tear from my eye as a shadow fell over us.
The nurse gasped and backed away.
I didn’t need to look. I knew who’d come to gloat, that damned dragon. “This is your fault. You hurt Papa with your antics.” Another tear fell, and I let it as I raised my head, so I could look at the dragon.
She looked surprisingly contrite. At least the blue-glowing spheres of ones and zeroes making up her eyes did. “No one was supposed to get hurt.” A metal hand gently touched my back.
“Then why did you throw all that fire at us?”
“Why do you think? To stop you. He had enough magic to block it.”
“Well, he didn’t, and now look what you did. You gave him a seizure.” I wiped my eyes on my sleeve.
The dragon removed her clawed hand from my back. “What do you mean ‘he didn’t?’ He has more magic than he knows what to do with.”
“Well, it’s gone now. He used it up, and it doesn’t like water.” I waved to the puddle Papa was lying in.
“So that’s what you meant by ‘low magic.’” The dragon nodded then she held up her claws, and a spark jumped between them
I drew back. “What are you doing?”
“Magic and electricity have things in common.” She lowered her claws and the power arcing between them toward Papa.
“Don’t touch him. You’ve done enough,” Melinda said as a wet ball of fabric struck the Newsletter-Dragon’s claws, snuffing out the spark.
“Not hardly. I’ve only just gotten started.” The dragon retreated to the boiler and wrapped around it as more wet laundry flew her way, but they struck a waterfall of blue ones and zeroes instead of her.
“It’s the Matrix,” one of Melinda’s neighbors whispered in awe.
I scowled. “That’s not a matrix. A matrix is a rocky material with gems, crystals, and sometimes fossils in it.” Papa had shown me plenty of them over the years. He was particularly drawn to the matrixes that had lumir crystals in them.
But I was small, and not as impressive as a walking, talking dragon that had built a body for itself out of spare parts. So, everyone except my Scribe ignored me. The crowd only had eyes for the glowing dragon squeezing the life out of the wheezing boiler system, and she basked in that attention, the ungrateful worm. The Newsletter-Dragon might not care if our Scribe and her neighbors froze tonight when the temperature dropped close to zero, but I did, and Papa would too when he woke up.
One of Melinda’s neighbors pointed at the dragon. “Don’t just stand there. Do something before there’s no boiler left to save. You know how long it takes management to repair it when it has problems.”
“Calm down. That’s what we’re trying to do. If you’ll return to your apartments, we could get on with that.” Melinda stood before the crowd with her arms extended, but she couldn’t stop them for long. They outnumbered her twenty to one, and she was a good deal shorter than most of them.
A green glow drew my gaze downward. Papa’s eyes opened a crack, revealing his luminous magic. It peered out of his eyes. After it found me, it receded and his eyes sagged closed. Did that mean his magic was back?
“Papa?” I shook his arm.
No response.
“Let him rest,” Melinda said from her post by the door. She took her assignment as the crowd controller seriously. That left just me free to act.
“Why are you doing this?” I looked at the dragon.
“Because I have to.”
Oh no, the dragon’s ones-and-zeroes-covered innards were turning red. I could just glimpse their color change through the gaps in her metal-plated skin. “Why do you have to?” Why cozy up to a boiler system at all? The answer to that riddle was the key to all this.
“Changes come in threes.” As the dragon spoke, her eyes glowed a fierce red like the magical red lumir crystals that heated our cave home.
But I wasn’t certain those crystals would work here where tech was ascendant. “What changes? What are you talking about?”
But the dragon just shook her head and refused to answer.
“We need to do something. That boiler system is melting in her embrace.” Melinda shoved a young guy in sweats who’d been trying to squeeze past her back into the foyer with the other lookie-loos.
“Hey, I was just trying to get my laundry,” Dude in Sweats said.
“You’ll have to get it later. The laundry room is closed until further notice.” Melinda gave him a hard stare, and he threw his hands up in defeat.
The boiler chose that moment to make some weird clanging noises. Maybe that was its way of begging for help. The dragon smiled and squeezed the boiler again. Maybe she liked those sounds?
The boiler system pleaded with me with its flashing lights. They were the same green as Papa’s eyes when they glowed. But Papa was our only mage, and he was out cold. There must be something I could do before there was no boiler left to save. It was already starting to melt.
But magic didn’t play well with technical things, and that boiler system looked like a complicated technical contraption. I needed a non-magical solution to this debacle.
The phone in my pocket vibrated. Maybe one of our subscribers had some advice about how to get the dragon away from the boiler before the situation got critical. I opened a new email and touched the screen to compose an update, and the following message appeared on it:
If you have a non-magical way to get the dragon away from the boiler system before she destroys it, please hit reply and let me know! Papa’s down, and we don’t have any magic to protect us or to use against the dragon. All ideas are welcome.
Thank you,
Ran, son of Sarn, beggar of boons
I hit the send button and sent it to all the wonderful people who’d subscribed to our newsletter over the years. Soon, we’d have help, and better yet, a plan. The boiler system just had to hold out until more replies rolled in. But that didn’t sound likely given the tortured metal screams issuing from it. I covered my ears, but I couldn’t block out the sound because I was still holding the phone.
Maybe Melinda could do something. She was a Scribe, and that designation gave her special powers in my world. Maybe those powers extended to her own. “Can you write us a way out of this?”
“I wish I could.” Melinda looked away, but her eyes were troubled.
I’d struck a nerve. Before I could apologize, Melinda’s phone vibrated in my hand. Maybe our subscribers had a way out for us. Hope suffused me as I swiped to unlock the screen. Surely, someone had dealt with this sort of problem before. We couldn’t be the only ones.
How Does That Help Me?
[The Gray Between]
Bang. Bang. Bang. What was making all that racket? Sovvan got up. “Hello? Is anyone out there?” Anyone other than those Memory-Eaters because they wouldn’t help her.
Clang. Clang. Clan
g. The bars of her prison vibrated like plucked strings. Who was banging on them? Sovvan tried to peer through the narrow gap between two bars, but she couldn’t see much because everything was gray here. I’m surprised I’m not graying out. But she wasn’t. So far, she still retained some color, not that she’d had much to begin with.
One of the skinnier spikes wobbled and bent as a shadow passed over Sovvan, but it didn’t bend low enough to help her since Dysteria had made the spikes a hundred feet tall. Sovvan tilted her head back and spotted a naked winged woman against the gray sky. Was she an angel? She must be since she had wings, but where were her clothes?
Her savior slammed her feet into the top of the tallest spike, breaking a five-foot chunk clean off. It plummeted and landed outside her cell, thank God. Her strange savior repeated that process on the second-tallest spike then lined up to have a go at the next tallest. At this rate, her rescuer would be at this for hours, but Sovvan didn’t have hours to spare. Time moved slower here than in the living world where her brother and nephew were. Another piece of her prison fell, but it was too high up to do her any good.
“How does that help me? I’m down here, not up there.” Sovvan waved to the woman who was flying roughly a hundred feet above her head. There was something odd about her savior other than her lack of clothes. She was very shiny. “Not to criticize your efforts, but it would be faster if you pulled me out, and time is very much of the essence here. My nephew is in grave danger. So, I’d appreciate it if you’d go find some rope.” Sovvan shaded her eyes. Had her savior even heard her?
The woman must have because she hovered there, her wings a blur behind her, and glared down at Sovvan. “Where am I supposed to get this rope from? This is the Gray Between, not a bazaar.”
“Are you made of metal?” Sovvan stared up at the woman? Creature? How did one refer to a being that wasn’t flesh and blood?
“Gears actually. Don’t let my exterior fool you. Have you another idea because I don’t think there’s any rope in the Gray Between.” Miss Metal propped her fists on her hips.
“Are you daft? Of course, there’s some rope. There’s a dock on the backside of the island with boats, and boats have ropes. You have to cross a magical veil thing to get there, but that shouldn’t be a problem. Just fly eastward until you see some water. That’s how the last angel who brought me here did it.” At least that was how Sovvan remembered it, but she had been Misriah’s captive then, and she hadn’t been fully conscious for the entire flight. But Metal Girl didn’t need to know that.
“Where do those ships go?”
“Does it matter? You just need some rope from one of them.”
“Where do those ships go?” Metal Girl asked again this time with more urgency.
“To the Dead City, but the Angels call it Eversong. It’s another island. Supposedly, you pass through the city to heaven when you’ve earned it, but I haven’t gotten there yet. Too much unfinished business.” Sovvan touched the link to her brother. It had gone all translucent and misty on her. What the hell are you doing, bro?
No picture came across the link, just the steady beating of his heart, proving he was still alive. You’d better stay that way until I get there. Throw up some shields and comfort my nephew until then. Though, she might be a while if her rescuer didn’t get a move on. Sovvan tapped her foot. “Are you fetching that rope or not?”
“Yes, your prison is too narrow. I can’t fly down to retrieve you, but—” Metal Girl paused as an idea struck her then she pulled her wings in and dropped.
Sovvan rushed out of her path. “What the hell did you do that for? Now, we're both stuck in here.” Sovvan accosted the metal woman and tried not to stare at the gears turning in her chest. Two metal hands wrapped around her throat and squeezed.
“Are we?” The clockwork woman turned, forcing Sovvan to turn with her and take in the shaking spikes.
“You can’t kill me. I’m already dead.” Sovvan dropped her chin and brought her arms up to break the hold, but she couldn’t pry those metal hands away from her throat. A knee to the groin probably wouldn’t work either. What about a palm strike? Sovvan slammed her hand into her clockwork attacker’s face and almost screamed in pain, but her hand didn’t break.
“Why are you doing this?” Sovvan asked as the world started to gray out. Oh no, not again. If I pass out, I’ll wake up somewhere else in this gray place with no memory of this fight. Unless she was lucky enough to reappear somewhere away from the fog and its creators.
“Because Dysteria built this prison for you, not me.” Her clockwork captor squeezed harder, and there was a loud clang as one by one the spikes toppled, destroying her prison.
But Sovvan was fading mentally and physically, becoming the ghost she’d been for fourteen years before she’d changed into something else. As she sagged in her captor’s grip, Sovvan vanished.
***
Sovvan opened her eyes to an all-encompassing gray fog. Didn’t I already do this? It certainly felt like she had. Sovvan sat up and scanned the fog bank for the Memory-Eater or Memory-Eaters who were generating it. “Would you stop trying to take my memories? You’ve already gotten all the memories you’re going to get from me, and all this fog is annoying when you’re trying to get somewhere.” Sovvan paused halfway to her feet. There’s somewhere I’m supposed to be.
But that fog had taken that memory away. Great. I wish I could remember what I need to do. That would be helpful right now because I have a feeling whatever I’m supposed to do has a time limit.
Sovvan stood and checked to make sure she was still clothed. She was, Thank God. Next, she touched the link to her brother. She might as well check on him too before she tried to figure out what she was supposed to be doing right now.
An image blossomed in her mind of her brother passed out on the ground and his son crying his little heart out beside him. Woah. What did I miss? Why is my twin unconscious? Where are you? Because that didn’t look like Mount Eredren.
The scene faded away before she could see more, but Sovvan had seen enough to know what she needed to do: save her brother and his son. I’m coming kiddo. Your auntie will fix this. Stay safe until then.
Sovvan scanned the horizon for that creepy forest. When she found it, she set off at a brisk trot. It was close by this time, and that felt like a new development. But Sovvan couldn’t worry about that right now. Gnarled trees rushed toward her then she was slowing and searching for ways to slip between them.
The Drop of Eternity wasn’t that far into the forest, but neither was it very large, so pinpointing it in this dark tangle wasn’t easy. Thankfully, Sovvan had visited it often enough that her feet knew the way even though her head didn’t. Soon enough, she was sliding out of a stand of trees onto the bank of a still pool that reflected the cloudy sky. Sovvan stopped at its edge and touched the link to her brother. Take me to him.
Something crashed through the canopy behind her as the water rippled, and the image reflected on it morphed into a familiar mountain. But she didn’t turn to look behind her, she kept focusing on the mountain reflected in the water. Her destination was almost set, just a little more and she’d be on her way. I’m coming, Ran. Hold tight for just a bit longer. Sovvan waited another moment then dove into the pool.
Its cold water was her only way back to the living world where her family lived. She pictured them as they’d appeared in the glimpse she’d gotten from the link. Take me to them, please.
The water suddenly vanished, and air took its place. As had happened before, Sovvan slammed into a rainbow-hued dome—a shield maybe? She pounded on it as she slid along that transparent dome. Let me in, damn you!
The shield thinned, and Sovvan fell toward the blue-green world spinning below her. The bond to her brother, Sarn, tugged on her heart. It was a glowing chain disappearing into the clouds below her. Sarn, are you all right down there? Was he conscious again? If you’re awake, bro, bring me to you.
Before he could, a weight landed on Sovv
an’s back, and two metallic arms wrapped around her neck and twisted it. “Die traitor!” a woman shouted in her ear.
“Ouch! Didn’t we do this already?” The struggle felt familiar, and that usually meant she was reliving some piece of her personal history. But Sovvan had no idea what she’d done to piss this woman off. Sovvan bucked and thrashed, but her attacker had gotten her metallic legs around her waist, and she was squeezing like a snake. “Will you quit doing that? I died once already. I don’t think I can repeat the experience.”
Nor did Sovvan want to, not now while she was some peculiar hybrid creature. Metallic wings flapped, keeping them aloft as that blue-green marble turned below them, lit by a golden glow. A chain of promises pulled Sovvan down toward that world and her brother, the keeper of those promises, but that damned metal woman pulled Sovvan in the opposite direction, stretching her very being to the breaking point.
“Let go of me! I must go to my brother. I must protect him from something,” Sovvan finished lamely because she had no idea what her brother had been doing to cause him to pass out like that.
Please, Lord, don’t let it be too late to help him and his son. A tear ran unchecked down her cold cheek as Sovvan kicked and punched and did absolutely no harm to her clockwork captor but plenty to herself. Ouch, she was sore. Damn it! But neither could they go anywhere else so long as that chain of promises bound Sovvan to her twin.
Smoke wafted off her would-be captor as her gears strained and began to whine. “Why are we stuck?”
“You can’t take me anywhere except down there where I belong.” Sovvan pointed at that spinning globe. Hold on, Ran. I’m coming.
“How are you doing this?” asked her armored adversary as she strained against gravity and the bond. Both were pulling them inexorably down toward a swath of green.
“I promised my brother I’d always be there for him. Not even death can separate us for long, so you don’t stand a chance.” Sovvan grabbed the link between her and her twin. It was a shining cord in her hands now. As she reeled herself in, the chain shrunk, leaving no slack behind. Sarn must need me if he’s pulling this hard.
Dragon Spells Page 8
