“What do those pipes carry?” Uncle Miren let go of me and shook Melinda to get her attention. It had wandered back to the borrowed phone she was typing away on. Our Scribe tended to have a one-track mind when it came to writing.
“Very hot water—that’s how they heat the building. If she severs even one of those pipes, the hot water will gush out and scald us all.” Melinda stopped typing and sent what she’d just written to herself before handing the phone she’d borrowed back to its owner. She was done transcribing for now. Melinda gestured to the phone in my hands and mimed scrolling through it to the next piece of advice our subscribers had sent in.
But I was still stuck on the threat of scalding hot water. Papa’s magic hated water regardless of its temperature. At its touch, his magic would collapse in on itself and hide somewhere deep inside him where he couldn’t reach it, and it couldn’t protect us. I couldn’t let that happen again. We needed his magic.
The dragon nodded as she saw the horror in my eyes. Threat delivered, she relaxed her hold on the boiler just a hair, but not enough to stop interfering with its operation.
“We need another plan.” I scrolled through the messages on our scribe’s phone with shaking fingers. Uncle Miren squeezed my shoulder, but he didn’t reassure me.
I picked a message at random, but my Scribe spoke before I could touch it.
“While she’s here, who’s guarding our newsletter list?” Melinda asked.
That was a good question, but only the dragon could answer it, so, I put the question to her. “Are our subscribers’ email addresses safe?”
The dragon gave me a scathing look. “Of course, they’re safe. I moved my horde to a secret location before coming here.” Her ‘horde’ was our newsletter list.
Uncle Miren nudged me. “What does that message say?”
I touched it to load the content into my mind since I couldn’t read it, but my uncle could. “P. says there’s a new type of thief who steals digital hoards because they’re valuable on something called the ‘dark web.’ Did you hear that Newsletter-Dragon? Your horde is in danger. You should go save it or something.” I lowered the phone and stepped aside in case the winged worm decided to make a mad dash for our Scribe’s apartment.
A loud growl echoed through the room, and I jumped. Everyone took a giant step backward except Papa, but he was still sitting against the wall. I wrapped my arms around my uncle’s thigh. His leg was solid and leanly muscled like Papa’s, which was reassuring, so was the shining green band of energy just above his knee.
“It’s okay. I’ve got you.” Uncle Miren squeezed my shoulder, but he didn’t pick me up. It would be too awkward carrying me while on crutches.
I glanced at Papa, but his eyes were closed again. I wanted to crawl onto his lap and wrap myself in his strong arms and magic as I shrank away from the dragon.
She seemed to grow more massive as she loomed over us. Flames ran down her chin and dropped onto the floor, forming a fiery line. “They’d better not.”
Yikes! I didn’t know whether to hope those hackers were real or run in fear until I saw a smug smile on the face of one of Melinda’s neighbors. He tapped something on his phone, and an alarm sounded. Oh no, what was happening now?
Not Where I Expected to Be
[Somewhere in Between Worlds]
When she came to, Sovvan blinked at a cream-colored floor, patterned to look like paper. How odd. Shelves lined with books surrounded her as she pushed herself up to a sitting position. Sovvan had never seen so many books in one place before. There must be millions.
So, I’m in a library, not the Gray Between. That wasn’t where she’d expected to be, but it was a nice change from where she usually ended up.
“Where am I?” Sovvan rubbed her aching head. She wasn’t anywhere she’d ever been before. That much was certain. Since she wasn’t literate, Sovvan ignored the books in favor of taking in her surroundings because there was a lot to look at.
In the center of the floor, a circular section slid aside revealing a familiar blue-green marble turning in the spangled darkness, and the link between her and her brother pulled taut, dragging her across the floor. My brother must be down there. I must get to him. Sovvan gained her feet and rushed toward that hole.
She reached it as a giant book rose through it, and she skidded on the slick tiles straight into the book. Oof. This time, Sovvan didn’t merge with it. She touched her nose gingerly. It was sore but not broken, thank God.
Words appeared like magic as she backed away from a book that was about nine feet tall. Sovvan glanced about to confirm she was alone then shrugged and ran her hand over the words on the giant page.
A picture formed in her mind. In it, Sarn sagged against a wall looking pale and shaky and just sick as he sat there, looking at a strangely dressed woman holding a box up that had a flashing light on it. “Women wear trousers there? No way.” Sovvan stared at the crowd thunderstruck. “Actually, that’s quite practical. Maybe I should get a pair after I find and save you. Where the hell are you, bro? What are you shielding them from?”
The image faded out before Sovvan could pan it to search for her other brother or her nephew, but they must be behind that shield. Otherwise, Sarn wouldn’t be generating it. Sovvan rested her hand on the book again, but no image popped into her head this time. The show was over. Sovvan leaned in close to the page. “Hang on, bro. I’m still coming to help as soon as I figure out how to get to you.”
A thud startled her, and Sovvan spun, putting her back to the book. Someone was here with her. She scanned the circular library but saw nothing except books on shelves that rose incalculably high into a spangled sky. Where was that metal maniac, Metalara? Sovvan raised her fists. “Show yourself. I know you’re here.”
“I have no idea who that is.” A section of shelving swung out, revealing another room filled with books but no Metalara, just a petite, tanned woman in a flowy dress of pale blue.
“Who are you?”
“Clearly, not who you were expecting.” The woman closed the book in her hands, and it floated to the shelf behind her and shelved itself.
“Neat trick.”
“Thanks, I’m Akasha, and these are my records.” She gestured to the library. Several books chose that moment to jump to different shelves. “You’re Sovvan.”
“How did you know that?” Sovvan backed away but had to stop when her back brushed the giant book busily writing itself. That was so creepy.
“I know everything that is ever written or said or thought. But,” Akasha held up a finger in warning. “Before you ask, I don’t know anything that hasn’t been said or thought or written. The future is someone else’s province.”
“Oh, I know all about that.” Sovvan waved away Akasha’s explanation. “I’ve met the Final Fate. Fay isn’t someone you want to cross.”
“Definitely not.” Akasha gestured, and a different book floated into her hands.
“How did I get here?” Sovvan motioned to the library.
“Someone stuffed you inside an unfinished story—” Akasha began, but Sovvan cut her off.
“It was probably Metalara. She’s this clockwork woman who likes to strangle people. Have you seen her? She should have been wherever you found me.” Sovvan scanned the library again for that metal maniac in case saying her name summoned her. Who knew what that clockwork creature was capable of.
“No, I didn’t see anyone matching that description, and I’m not sorry about that. She doesn’t sound like someone I want to meet.” Akasha hugged the book she held to her chest.
“Maybe she flew away. What was that dark place anyway, and why was there a book floating in it?” Something made Sovvan glance behind her. Maybe it was a sixth sense, or maybe it was just the bond to her twin pulling her toward the giant book behind her.
“Oh, that was a plot hole. However did you fall into one of those?”
“What’s a plot hole? It sounds dangerous.” Sovvan hugged herself. At least she was f
inally getting some answers. So what if they didn’t make much sense to her. Not much about her current existence made logical sense anyway. But it didn’t hurt to ask because knowledge was power, and Sovvan could always use more of that. Especially since knowledge was all the power she had right now.
“It’s like a black hole.” Akasha spread her hands, and a black disc appeared between them. A tiny star revolved around it. “Instead of stars, stories get caught in a plot hole’s gravity well, and they circle its event horizon until they fall in.” The star spun around that black circle until it merged with it just as Akasha had described. “But this is the first time a character has fallen in.” Akasha clapped her hands together, and the miniature plot hole vanished.
“That was a neat trick.” For a bizarre explanation, but Sovvan kept that to herself. If Akasha wanted to keep what had really happened to herself, there was nothing Sovvan could do to stop her. “But let’s get one thing straight. I’m not a character. I’m quite real.”
“Of course, you are.” Akasha gave her a patronizing smile. It was time for a subject change.
“How did this book get into that—what did you call it?” Sovvan gestured to the giant book floating behind her. It was about six feet wide and nine feet tall when closed. But it was open, and the page turned, on its own, to a blank one. Lines appeared as an invisible hand sketched a familiar frowning face—Misriah, her twin’s Guardian Angel, and that angel didn’t look happy.
“A plot hole.” Akasha scowled at the armored angel appearing on the page. “Who is that?”
“No one important.” Sovvan grabbed the edge of the book and heaved it closed. Being dead had one advantage, she was much stronger than the sickly child she’d been before her death. “So how did this book end up in that plot hole? Did it whirl around it like in that example you gave?” Sovvan mimed that with her hands as she tried to nonchalantly lean against the vibrating book to keep it closed. Misriah was the last person she wanted to see right now, even in print.
“How do you know it was that book?” Akasha snapped her fingers, and the giant book flipped open to a new page.
Sovvan relaxed when words appeared, not a picture of an angry angel. “Oh well, I got a good view of it before I crashed into it. Why was it in that plot hole thing?” Curiosity got the better of her, and Sovvan ran her hand over the text printed on the page. The letters were too uniform to be handwritten, but how else could they have gotten on the page? And what in God’s name did they say? She could be staring at the answers to all her questions and never know it.
Akasha appeared beside her and removed her hand from the giant book. “The Scribe who started it must have abandoned the book you saw.”
Nice try. We both know it was this book, but you go ahead and keep pretending it isn’t. I might have died on my seventh birthday, but I’ve done a lot of growing up since then. Sovvan snatched her hand away from Akasha and pasted a neutral expression on her face. “Why would a Scribe do that?” Not that Sovvan would believe a word Akasha had said until she figured out what that woman’s angle was. Everyone had one. What was Akasha’s? Did it align with hers?
“The story took a turn its Scribe didn’t expect, and she didn’t know how to end it.” Akasha shrugged as if that was of no concern of hers, but she was a little too casual about it. “Stories often fall into plot holes.”
“Do they often come out?” Sovvan asked, and the question echoed in the library.
“A lucky few do. It depends on the Scribe, and whether she starts writing it again. But let’s step away from that book, please. It’s not a toy.” Akasha tried to drag Sovvan away from it.
But the chain of promises that bound Sovvan to her twin also bound her to that book. Now, that was interesting. Was there a Scribe chronicling their adventures right now? Sovvan clamped a hand to her brow as an image slammed into her of a petite thirty-something woman with dark hair furiously typing and swiping on a small boxy thing.
This Scribe was a little on the plump side, but her face was very familiar. I know you. I’m pretty sure we’ve met before. But the Gray Between had taken that memory on one of her many trips to it over the years, so all Sovvan had was this scrap of memory. As it faded, she had a feeling that Scribe was the key, somehow. I just need to get to you.
“Stop.” Akasha pulled, but she couldn’t budge Sovvan.
“I can’t. My brothers are in there. I need to go into that book.” Sovvan covered her mouth to stifle a laugh. “I can’t believe I just said that.”
“Hmm, it would seem you’re right about that.” But Akasha didn’t look pleased. Nor did she let go of Sovvan’s arm, and her grip was starting to hurt. “How did you get into the plot hole?”
“I thought you knew everything that was said or thought or written.” Sovvan peeled Akasha’s hand off her. She had a bad feeling about this place. I’ve already been here too long. Dysteria had sent her here to sidetrack her. Was Akasha part of that? Was she in league with Dysteria?
Akasha shrugged, and her sleeve slid down exposing a sideways figure eight on her shoulder. “I do, but there’s a lot to sort through. I’m sometimes a little behind on events.” Akasha adjusted her dress to cover her shoulder. What did that mark mean?
A soft but insistent tapping distracted Sovvan. Where was that coming from? “Is there someone else here?” It sounded like metal on metal, that clicking sound. “Metalara?” Was it her imagination or did that tapping grow louder in response? “Where is she?”
“Where is who?” Akasha gripped the book in her hands until her knuckles paled.
Sovvan grabbed the glowing chain connecting her to her brother and gave it a firm yank. I need some slack, bro. Something isn’t right here, and I need to check it out. The chain lengthened as Sovvan padded toward that clicking sound. “Metalara? Where are you?” There was just more clicking in answer. Perhaps that fiend was finally running down. Maybe that low-powered state would make her easier to deal with but probably not.
“I can’t let you do this. I’m sorry.” Akasha spread her arms, and the books on the shelves nearby flew off.
“Why can’t you let me find her?” Sovvan covered her head as twenty books shot toward her. She ran around the giant book, putting it between her and them.
Sovvan might be hard to damage, but that didn’t mean she had to take a beating when she could avoid it. The first batch of books dropped to the floor rather than hit that giant book, just as she’d guessed. That supersized book was important. Why? Though, Sovvan was glad it was since it contained information about her family. Information I need, but one thing at a time. I need to find Metalara.
Akasha clenched her fists. “Because she’s a psychopath the Order left to rust. No one was supposed to wind her up, but some archangels did out of a misguided hope that metal bit—”
“Who wound her up? Which angels?” Sovvan cut in as she dodged another group of flying books, but they also fell instead of striking the giant book, which didn’t even have a picture on the cover, just blue pasteboard and some text.
“Does it matter?” Akasha gestured, and more books jumped off the shelves and shot toward Sovvan.
“I guess not.” Sovvan rounded the giant book to evade another set of projectiles only to crash into the next wave. “Ouch. That hurt.”
“Sorry. I don’t want to hurt you, but I can’t let you wind her up. “ Akasha sounded contrite, so maybe she meant that.
Sovvan rubbed her belly where two books had struck her. “What did she do to get left to rust into oblivion?”
“She took something.” Akasha waved, and the books lying on the floor flew back to their shelves.
Sovvan rolled her eyes and sat down because all this running around was tiring, and she needed to conserve her energy. She’d need it to save her family. “Are you really going to make me ask what she took?”
Akasha looked away. Her face was unreadable.
“Why did you bring me here? I saw the mark on your shoulder. I’ll find the same one on Met
alara, won’t I? You’re both part of that Order, and it’s the opposite of the Agents of Chaos. You brought me here because I, unfortunately, bear their mark. Not by choice, though.” Sovvan pounded her fist into the ground.
Akasha nodded and stared at the floor. “Why did Dysteria leave you in a plot hole? Why that one in particular?”
“I think it was her only option when she disrupted that purple glowing tube. But that’s just a guess.” Sovvan touched the link to her twin, but it just beat, steady as a heart. No information about her family passed from it to her. Damn it.
“That’s possible since its the closest plot hole between your world and the one in the book.” Akasha leaned against a section of shelves, blocking it with her body.
“I’m not even going to ask how you know that.” Sovvan shook her head and surreptitiously scanned that shelving unit for a latch or some method of operating it. Because that’s where Akasha was hiding Metalara.
Though, Sovvan wasn’t sure if she should wind that metal creature up. She might try to strangle me again. Sovvan touched her neck. It was bruised from her last run-in with Metalara but healing. “What did she take?”
“An orb, it’s a sphere of power.” Akasha cupped her hands together to indicate its small size. “For all we know, she might still have it. It was never found. We can’t fight the Agents of Chaos without it.”
“So, you want your magic ball back?” That just sounded wrong, but whatever. Magic was her brother’s territory, not hers, and Sovvan was happy to leave that to him, but he wasn’t here, so she heaved herself to her feet.
“Yes. I could restore the order and fight the Agents of Chaos with it.” Akasha stared at her empty hands.
“I’ll get it back for you. All I ask in return is for you to help me find my family so I can save them. Do we have an accord? Because I don’t want to fight you. We’re on the same side.” Sovvan crossed to Akasha and extended her hand.
Dragon Spells Page 13
