Dragon Spells

by Melinda Kucsera

  Sweat broke out upon my brow and under my arms, but I ignored that because a little sweat wouldn’t hurt me, but that bolt definitely would. Its glowing ends bent upward, curving into a white-glowing circle while the dragon fought the hackers.

  “Aha! Got the last one!” The dragon punched the ceiling in triumph, making another hole in it. Then, she remembered the lightning ring she’d conjured, and she hurled it at us.

  I tried to run, but I slammed into the legs of the lookie-loos, clogging the doorway. Uncle Miren grabbed me and dropped to the ground. We landed hard, and he hugged me tightly to his chest. He was between me and the dragon. Time dilated as that spinning ring flew toward Uncle Miren’s back. But it slammed into a shimmering green shield instead of my brave uncle.

  “Papa’s awake.” I squirmed until I could confirm that.

  Papa’s eyes were open and glowing a molten green. Hopefully, the sandwich and water had revived him. Both were gone. Papa had one hand extended in our direction, but there was no shield around him. He leaned hard into the cinder-block wall, and it deformed around him, making it look like he was sinking into it. But Papa was probably drawing strength from it.

  I broke from my uncle’s grasp and bolted for him, ignoring the metal spikes that thunked into the wall beside me, even the one that caught my sleeve. Papa was perhaps a dozen feet away in the corner where Uncle Miren had dragged him. I ran straight into his arms and collided with his muscular chest. His arms and his magic closed around me.

  “You’re awake.” I touched Papa’s face.

  His skin was cool to the touch, and he was paler than before, so the dark circles under his eyes stood out more. “I wasn’t asleep. This place was draining me.”

  “You’re sure it’s this place, not the dragon?” I prayed it wasn’t her doing. If it was, we were doomed.

  “It might be your aunt too. She keeps calling me.” Papa held me tightly. The old fear that I’d lose him curled around my heart and squeezed. Tears pricked my eyes. I couldn’t lose him. I needed Papa.

  “Auntie Sovvan can’t come. The portal’s gone.” I said into his chest.

  “She’ll find a way. She’s good at that.” Papa rubbed my back.

  “What do you mean by ‘was draining you?’ Isn’t it still draining you?” Uncle Miren asked.

  He’d hobbled after me; his crutch clicking softly on the smoke-stained tiles. Uncle Miren squeezed my shoulder then withdrew his hand, but not before I saw the same fear in his brown eyes. He feared losing his brother. But Uncle Miren put his brave face on, hiding that fear, so I put mine on too.

  “Sovvan.” Papa shook his head. “She did something, and now I have some of my magic back.”

  “She’s here?” Uncle Miren pulled out a metal spike that had struck his crutch and threw it at the dragon. She flicked her tail and sent it flying back at us, but it bounced off Papa’s shield.

  “No, she’s not here. I wish she was though. Nothing phases her.” Papa leaned his head on the wall.

  “You want her here even though she drains you?” I rested my head on his chest.

  “Yeah, but I’m not sure she would drain me here, and it would be nice to have someone who’s nearly indestructible on our team.”

  I agreed wholeheartedly with that. Auntie Sovvan was one tough woman. Could I summon her while the dragon was distracted? The number of transparent screens surrounding the dragon had multiplied again, and she was typing and swiping with her foreclaws and hind ones now.

  Uncle Miren extended his hand. “Here, let me help you up. Since she’s throwing pointy objects, you should get closer to the people you’re shielding, so you only have to maintain one shield.”

  “You’ve got a point there.” Papa grabbed Uncle Miren’s hand and let his brother pull him up.

  I wrapped my legs and arms around Papa, so I went along for the ride, and he let me. Uncle Miren grunted his disapproval, but I ignored him as I often do when his wishes don’t align with mine.

  Once Papa was vertical, he held onto the wall and staggered with his stalwart brother at his side and me in his arms. The crowd of onlookers was creeping back into the room since our Scribe had abandoned her post again. I turned in his arms to peek at the dragon and gasped as she swiped a claw through the many screens surrounding her, banishing them.

  “If those thieves come anywhere near my horde again, I’ll incinerate them, and everyone they’ve ever met.” The dragon stabbed the boiler with her claws, gouging a deep hole in it that exposed its peculiar innards.

  Between the mess of wires in its belly, a curved black object lay. I could only see the top part of it. Was it supposed to be inside the boiler? I guessed so since the dragon had shown no interest in the object, just in the metallic green cards that were covered in iridescent little squares of circuitry. Maybe that sphere powered the boiler system? That was possible given where it was and my limited knowledge of technical things.

  “Mine.” The dragon bared her teeth as she hugged those strange boards to her metallic chest. Her fore claw glowed as she ran it around the edges of them and soldered them to her chest plate. Wires extruded from her armor, and she stripped their tips then soldered them to the circuit boards too.

  “Why’s she doing that?” I pointed, and the dragon scowled at me. Smoke curled out of her mouth, and I leaned into Papa for protection.

  “I don’t know, but it’s a weird thing to do.” Uncle Miren shook his head.

  Papa swayed, and his shield fell as he slid down the wall he’d been leaning against.

  I ended up on his lap, which was fine by me. “Papa, what’s wrong?”

  “I don’t feel so well.” Papa freed a hand and rubbed his eyes.

  “Headache?” Uncle Miren suggested.

  Papa shook his head. “Whatever my sister did, it’s wearing off. Fates, I’m so damned tired.”

  “Using magic is draining you.” Uncle Miren leaned on his crutch. His face was thoughtful. “Maybe you should go outside and recharge. Come on. I’ll help you.” Uncle Miren extended a hand to Papa.

  But Papa shook his head and squeezed me tight. “I’m not leaving you two here with a dragon.”

  “Be reasonable. There can’t be much magic here with all that tech flying around.” Uncle Miren waved a hand at the dragon, but she was absorbed in her augmentation project.

  “You mean Wi-Fi,” Melinda corrected him.

  “No. I’m staying right here.” Papa rested his chin on my head.

  “There’s also radio waves, microwaves, and cosmic rays too, and don’t forget about the junk light these florescent lights produce,” one of Melinda’s neighbors chimed in. It sounded like the Dude in Sweats, but I couldn’t see him from where I sat, just a forest of legs. Some of them were rather hairy.

  “Pollution comes in many forms not just electronic,” a woman added.

  Their explanation made sense and also chilled me to the core. Could those sources be fueling our code-based Newsletter-Dragon’s terrifying transformation? Is that why she had no intention of leaving?

  Maybe one of our awesome readers had an answer to that very question. After all, this was their world and their technology. If anyone would know whether that was true, it was our readers.

  I felt around in my pockets for Melinda’s phone. Where was it? I couldn’t have lost it, not when we needed it most. I glanced around for that phone and spotted it on the floor many feet away. I reached for it, but Papa still had a tight hold on me, and Melinda’s phone was too far away for me to grab without help.

  “Could someone hand me that phone? It’s over there.” As I pointed at it, Melinda’s phone slid toward the dragon who was extending her greedy claws for it. Uh-oh.

  “It’s mine now,” the dragon said. “You had your chance.”

  Orb Tracker

  [Somewhere in Between Worlds]

  Metalara straddled the edge of the purple-glowing book and held the cover closed until she noticed there was a lock on it. Well now, isn’t that handy? Metalara r
olled and put her back to the lock and heard a satisfying click as the key in her back slid into the lock.

  It was just as she’d thought. The butterfly-shaped back of the key fitted perfectly into the lock. Metalara spun on her back until the lock engaged, simultaneously turning the key in her back, charging her.

  Interesting. Metalara continued her clockwise spin, turning her key as far as it would go. She checked the lock was secure before sitting up and removing her key from it. “Are you okay in there?” She pounded on the book.

  “Why do you care? You trapped me in here,” Sovvan replied, but her voice was muffled.

  “You’ll thank me later when you reach your destination instead of waking up in the Gray Between again. That is what you want, right?” Metalara tapped on the book again when there was no response.

  “You’ll pay for this.”

  Metalara laughed. It had been a while since anything struck her as funny, but oddly enough that threat did. Sovvan had spunk all right. Metalara extended her wings and this time, they fully unfolded. Now, she needed to delay Sovvan for a bit.

  One well-aimed kick should knock that book far enough off course to do the trick. But it didn’t. Damn. That book was too massive. She needed a new plan.

  Metalara pulled her wings in and dropped until she was under the book then she spread them again and pumped hard to gain altitude with her hands extended. They struck the book’s back cover, and she strained to push it up. It would still fall. Nothing could stop that, but maybe she could lift it high enough that it wouldn’t fall for a while thus buying her time to track down the entropic orb Akasha had mentioned.

  Metalara still had a hard time believing the Agents of Chaos had allowed Dysteria to borrow it, or that creepy woman would turn around and give it to a dragon. But stranger things had happened quite recently, so it might have happened that way. More likely Akasha was lying about the whole thing.

  But I must check in case she was telling the truth, and if I can, get the entropic orb off the board before Sovvan arrives. Because that girl still bore the Agents of Chaos’ triangular mark, and they probably wanted their orb back.

  Metalara pushed with all the strength she had, and the book rose higher in the thin atmosphere. How high did she need to get it, so it would stay up there for a while? Was this high enough?

  The blue of the sky had turned black as her power level dropped. That would have to do. She had to conserve energy for her search. Metalara pulled her wings in and plummeted through layers of clouds. I am syntropy. I am negentropy, I am order. She repeated to herself as she opened her senses and chaos slammed into her, leaving her reeling from its touch.

  Millions of voices carried by some sort of airborne tech almost deafened her as millions of images, videos, books, lectures, conferences, and entertainment programs crashed over her until she passed out of the streams of data bending toward the chaos below. Her speed dropped as the entropic orb pulled all that energy into it, including the energy of her fall, to feed its growth and spread more chaos.

  Her gears seized up as it stole that power too, and Metalara fell like the hunk of metal she was. She struck a strange boxy vehicle hard enough to dent its hood and sent glass shards flying in all directions. An alarm sounded as people ran toward her. Their strange shoes beat the asphalt as she rolled onto the ground unable to move.

  The orb’s power was growing fast. She had to stop it. “Somebody wind me up, please.” Metalara reached out with the last vestiges of her power.

  Voices assaulted Metalara as a forest of legs surrounded her. Countless flashes fired, blinding her, but Metalara couldn’t move her arm to cover her eyes. She could just glare at those spectators and will one to turn her key.

  “Why’s there a giant key in her back?” A particularly brilliant bystander asked.

  “Turn it, and you’ll find out,” Metalara whispered, but she doubted they heard her over their loud chatter.

  Finally, some wonderful soul grasped her key and turned it, winding her up. Metalara waited until she was fully charged then she sprang to her feet, knocking aside the people in the crowd. There was a road topped by a smooth black material, and it led to the squat building encased in a field of shimmering chaos. That must be where the entropic orb is.

  A shadow fell over her, but Metalara didn’t look up at it. She just put her head down and loped along that road. Flying would use up more energy than she wanted to spare right now, and she’d need every joule she had to get the Agents of Chaos’ orb. This time, she would destroy it and anyone it had contaminated. All who are marked by chaos must die, even that spunky girl. No one could remain.

  Someone Get That Phone!

  [Westchester, NY]

  “I’ll get it for you. In fact, why don’t you let me talk to them for a while? I have a few things I’d like to say.” The dragon winked at me as Melinda’s phone slid toward her.

  Uh-oh, that dragon was up to something. “Someone get that phone! We need it.” I struggled, but I wasn’t going anywhere until Papa let me, and he still wouldn’t let me go anywhere near that dragon. The arm he tightened around my waist made that quite clear. “You have to do something.” I shook his arm, but I got no response.

  “I’ll get it.” Melinda and Uncle Miren said at almost the same time as they both rushed toward that phone and the grinning dragon who was stealing it. A fire burned just behind her teeth.

  Oh no, not again. I pointed at the crackling fire in the dragon’s mouth when Papa looked at me. “You have to stop them.”

  Sweat trickled down Papa’s face, and it sizzled when it fell into his glowing eyes. The moisture made his magic snap and snarl behind his eyes like a restive green-glowing hound made of pure energy. Maybe he should just unleash them, but that would exhaust him even more than he already was.

  “Fire doesn’t like water, but your magic doesn’t like water either. Can you use that dislike to find us some water?” It was worth a try. Anything was at this point, and a scan of the room might be less tiring than throwing really strong shields around. I hoped so anyway.

  Papa nodded. “I’ll try.” He squeezed me just in case I was thinking of trying to escape his hold. I wasn’t. I knew I couldn’t wriggle out of his embrace, and I didn’t want to anyway. I was safer where I was.

  Papa closed his eyes. Magic flowed out of his back and climbed up the cinder-block wall, and that wall might have undulated but only a little. Rocks tended to forget they weren’t supposed to be malleable when Papa was around. He didn’t have full control over his magic even at the best of times. But we had to get that phone back.

  Melinda and Uncle Miren were still chasing it, but that phone was outpacing them. Either the dragon was playing games with them, or she was having trouble bringing the phone to herself via whatever power she was using. I hoped it was the latter, but either way bought us a little time to act.

  “It’s getting steamy in here too. She might have cracked open another pipe,” one of Melinda’s neighbors said, but I didn’t look to see who. I kept watching my uncle and my Scribe rush headlong into a fiery trap, but neither noticed. They only had eyes for that phone.

  “It’s possible. Her tail is squeezing the boiler system pretty hard,” another neighbor said.

  The phone shot into the dragon’s claws at last, and Uncle Miren and Melinda skidded to a halt barely ten feet from her. They exchanged a horrified glance as they backed away.

  “Looking for this?” The dragon held out the phone then retracted it before either of them could grab it. “Oh, I don’t think so. This phone is mine now.” She examined it then looked at Melinda. “Well hello, Scribe, I’ve been meaning to call on you. I guess there’s no time like the present.” The dragon hooked her tail around Melinda’s waist and pulled our Scribe closer.

  Melinda put her brave face on and didn’t scream because this wasn’t the first time a character who was supposed to be fictional had taken her captive. But she didn’t look happy about this development either.

 
; “Leave her alone.” Uncle Miren grabbed a wet towel from the floor and flung it at the dragon, covering her head.

  I might have cheered until the dragon clawed at the towel, shredding it.

  But Uncle Miren had readied another wet projectile, and he threw it. “Let go of her!” He shouted.

  “Uncle Miren, run. Come back here!” I waved, but his back was to me, so he didn’t see it. But he saw the fireball the dragon spat at him. “Run, Uncle Miren, run fast!”

  And he did, but he wasn’t fast enough. As his clothes ignited, Uncle Miren stopped, dropped, and rolled to put it out as three more fireballs flew toward him.

  I turned to the crowd as much as I could in Papa’s death grip. “We need water! Where can we get some?”

  “Use the utility sink.” Melinda pointed to a deep paint-splattered basin just a few feet away from the dragon.

  Better yet, the basin was touching the wall, and so were the metal pipes feeding into the spigot, and a familiar green glow was creeping down that beautiful cinder-block wall.

  “Hurry up with that water, Papa.” I nudged him.

  “I’m working on it.” Papa stared at the utility sink, and his magic wrapped around the tap and turned it on.

  Water fell into that peeling sink, but it was too far away to help Uncle Miren as two more fireballs struck the ground, just missing him, but they reignited his tunic. Uncle Miren rolled into the path of the third fireball while trying to put out the flames climbing up his back.

  Papa’s magic finally turned the spigot, and water jetted in a sparkling arc onto his brother, putting out the flames.

  I tapped Papa’s arm. “Turn it before she throws another fireball at Uncle Miren.”

  Papa nodded and the spigot turned, sending a stream of water straight into the dragon’s mouth when she opened it to breathe more fire at us. Steam gushed out instead.

  She backed away, choking and coughed up smoke. “Turn it off.”