Dragon Spells

by Melinda Kucsera

  “No, make it flow faster and hit her harder.” I patted Papa’s arm to make sure he knew I was still talking to him.

  He squeezed me in acknowledgment, and that just made me more determined to best that dragon. We’d finally found a way to hurt her.

  “I said turn it off!” The dragon blindly struck the wall, missing the sink, and gored it with her horns, damaging the pipe the water flowed through. Water shot out of it, but it went straight up, not at the dragon. None flowed out of the spigot anymore. Drat. Foiled again.

  Clouds of steam flowed out of a broken pipe in the ceiling, drawing opaque curtains around that dragon and the dark shape rushing toward us. Everyone took a giant step backward to get away from it, except Papa because he was still magicking from where he sat on the floor.

  Veins stood out in his neck and his forehead, and his nails bit into his palms as he clenched his shaking fists, but they didn’t glow, just his eyes did, and they were a molten green. There were no whites or pupils now, only magic.

  “Is your magic trying to hide from the water in the air?” I asked Papa in an undertone. Now would be a really bad time for it to disappear on us.

  “Yes, but I can hold it. Don’t worry.” Papa wiped the sweat from his face onto his sleeve. Protecting me was hard work, and I loved him for always putting my safety first.

  Melinda darted out of the dissipating steam, half carrying my uncle, but they weren’t moving very fast.

  “How did you get free?” I stared at her in surprise.

  “When you distracted her with that water, she forgot about me,” Melinda said as she struggled to help my limping uncle.

  One crutch wasn’t doing it for him anymore. He needed both, but the other one was in our cave, and we couldn’t get it until the portal reappeared in Melinda’s apartment.

  “Oh.” I was glad to see them, but Papa wouldn’t let me run to help them. He held me tightly to him, preventing me from leaving the safety of his lap, and that was probably for the best while the dragon was angrily thrashing around.

  “Uncle Miren, are you okay?” I asked as a roar accompanied a crashing sound behind them.

  “I’m a little singed, but I’ll survive, not so sure about this laundry room though.” He ruffled my hair as he passed me.

  “What about you. Are you okay?” I caught my Scribe’s hand and squeezed it. We needed her in top form to chronicle our adventures.

  “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. She didn’t hurt me. She just squeezed me a little. But I got this for you.” Melinda handed me her phone.

  “How’d you get it?” As I accepted it, I felt a little better. Help was now only a click away.

  Melinda shrugged. “She dropped it when she went on a rampage.”

  “You’ll pay for that.” A red-glowing eye glared at us through the thinning clouds of steam. We were in big trouble now. Fire wasn’t her only weapon. A white glow signaled that the dragon was readying something else to throw at us.

  “That heat she’s giving off can’t be good for those banks of blinking lights on the wall behind her. Anyone know what they are?” Uncle Miren pointed to several metal boxy things hanging on the walls.

  Wires wound in and out of them doing something important for our scribe and her neighbors’ apartments, but I didn’t know what. Nor could I do anything to help them until we ejected the dragon from this echo-chamber.

  “What about those storage rooms over there? Is there anything in them we could use to fight that dragon?” I tugged on Papa’s sleeve to get his attention and hopefully, find out. “Can your magic tell us what’s behind those closed doors?”

  I pointed at the wall opposite us when he refocused on me. We had the dragon on the defensive now, and we needed to keep her there. That was how Papa had defeated monsters in the past. But he’d also been more proactive then and not as drained.

  There were six identical doors in a kind of alcove behind the dragon. Her bum was taking up most of the floor space there. I pointed at the doors, and the dragon glowered at me because I was also pointing at her. Not on purpose. She just happened to be fashioning weapons out of electricity in front of those storage closets.

  There were three doors on each wall flanking a third wall which had a large window with a deep sill wide enough for me to lay on if I were so minded. Faces peered in through that window. Those people had a fantastic view of the dragon’s spiky butt, but they weren’t enjoying the view.

  “Maybe. Let me try.” Papa went all silent again, but that was okay because he was conferring with his magic. He had to make sure it was up to the challenge despite all the water saturating the air.

  “Won’t that upset the dragon in the room?” Uncle Miren asked in an undertone, but he didn’t argue the point any further because Papa’s mind was made up, and there was no changing it.

  Papa shrugged. “I don’t think she can get anymore riled up than she already is, and it’s worth a try. Stay close to me so I can shield you too,” Papa said as his magic ripped the fire door off its hinges. But it overshot us when it dropped in between us and the dragon, so it was further away than a shield should be. Could it still deflect that bolt when the dragon finally fired it at us?

  “Oh no, you don’t. It’s mine now, my door, my boiler, my electricity, my Wi-Fi, my building, my horde! It’s all mine now and under my control.” The dragon threw the lightning bolt she’d been shaping and grabbed the fire door with her claws, melting it.

  “The fire door’s metal?” I stared at it thunderstruck, but I guess that made sense. Metal wasn’t flammable. But the crowd was. They screamed and ran as they decided this was a really bad place to be right now.

  “Papa, the lightning!” I pointed at it, and the ground suddenly dropped away as Papa went from seated to on bended knee with one forearm raised to block that incoming bolt. But there was no shield extending from his arm. His other arm still cinched my waist, so I just dangled there doing my best ‘I’m not a ragdoll’ impersonation until I could set my little feet on his muscular thigh. I was still clutching Melinda’s phone, but now didn’t seem like a good time to use it, so I stuffed it into my pocket to keep it safe.

  That lightning bolt was still coming toward us. I patted the arm holding me. “Make a shield, Papa. Hurry.”

  “I can’t. Something’s interfering with my magic, but I can still pull things.” Papa glanced around then extended his magic for the door several of Melinda’s neighbors leaned against and yanked it off its hinges. The wooden door dropped on its side between us and that bolt, and a shining green band appeared around Papa’s forearm to hold it like a shield in front of us. “Everyone, get down.”

  The lightning bolt struck the door and dispersed into the damp floor. Papa let go of our impromptu shield, and it toppled, revealing a hail of metal projectiles headed our way. The dragon must have made them out of the fire door.

  “Block this.” The dragon gestured, and the fléchettes flew.

  “We needed projectiles of our own,” I said as the faucet flew off the utility sink. It ricocheted off the door Papa hastily yanked in front of us again and flew toward the dragon.

  But it bounced off an invisible shield and struck the wall. “What was that?” The dragon turned her head to find out, and the fléchettes’ flightpath curved into the wall the faucet had struck. They punched through the drywall behind the sink, revealing someone’s bathroom. Oops. Thankfully, no one was using it right now.

  “Bad dragon,” I said, but the damage to that apartment was already done. Someone’s bathroom now had a window into this room. That probably wasn’t a good thing, structurally speaking.

  Papa released the door and sank back down to a sitting position while still clutching me as if his arm was the only thing keeping me glued to his side. It wasn’t.

  “Are you okay, Papa?” I patted his shoulder when he didn’t answer, and he just hugged me because he wasn’t okay, and I was feeling a little woozy too.

  Uncle Miren leaned in close and whispered. �
�What’s surrounding that dragon? It looks like some sort of field, but I can just barely see it.”

  Papa shook his head. “I don’t know, but I think it’s interfering with my magic.”

  “It’s my awesome tech you’re feeling. Enjoy the experience.” The Newsletter-Dragon, bane of boiler systems and fictional characters everywhere, actually looked a tad dismayed as she resumed her examination of the damage she’d wrought. Maybe we were making progress on our quest to teach her some manners. But it was more likely, she was annoyed she’d damaged the property she’d just claimed.

  Melinda’s neighbor stared in horror at the collapsing wall that had separated his bathroom from this room until the dragon had destroyed it. Someone elbowed him. I think it was the nice lady with the pretty orange hat, but I couldn’t be certain because I lost him in the swelling crowd as they rushed to comfort him.

  “You have homeowners insurance, right?” Melinda asked from somewhere in that crush.

  I think her neighbor nodded, but it was hard to tell. I felt bad for him. Characters were hard on homes.

  “Yeah, I don’t think I can fix that,” said a fellow edging away from the crowd around Melinda.

  The repairman must have sneaked in during one of our failed attempts to remove the dragon from the room. He was a thirtysomething man wearing a blue jacket that said, Characters Plumbing, Parts & Sales. The company’s owner must love books as much as we did, and that thought made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Though the steam escaping from the boiler system may have had something to do with that.

  “Stop him! We need him to fix the boiler.” Melinda started to follow him then stopped because someone had to hold back the crowd and that someone had to be her since we were fictional. But she needn’t have worried about the plumber.

  Papa extended his hand and magic shot from his fingers in a brilliant green arc. It wrapped around the plumber, stopping him in his tracks. He now sported a set of shiny green anklets courtesy of Papa, but Papa looked drained again. It must be that field around the dragon, sapping his strength.

  “Should you have done that? I’m sure the crowd would have stopped him.” Uncle Miren looked worriedly at Papa, but he was right. Melinda’s neighbors had surrounded the repairman, and they weren’t letting him get anywhere near the exit.

  “Could that invisible field thing be made by that ball inside the boiler?” I pointed to the object in question. Did it belong there?

  “It could be.”

  “What do we do about it? By ‘we,’ I don’t mean you. It’s affecting you because you have magic but not me because I don’t.” Uncle Miren leaned on his crutch.

  “And I do.” Papa nodded ruefully and squeezed me, making it clear I wasn’t included in that ‘we’ either in case I was thinking about joining that mission.

  A loud crash startled me before I could even think of arguing and I turned to face the dragon. Behind her, the window exploded, raining glittering shards onto her scaly back. What the heck had just happened?

  Papa sat up straighter and looked a little more alert when he stopped rubbing his glowing eyes. “Sovvan? Are you here?”

  “Is she?” I looked for my aunt as a rose-gold blur tumbled through the broken window.

  Hidden Sisters

  [Somewhere Above New York State]

  “Let me out, you psycho!” Sovvan pounded on the dark walls of her paper prison, but it wouldn’t give, not even a little, and there wasn’t an icicle’s chance in hell that metal maniac would let her out. What if she gets to my family before I do? Would she hurt them? Probably. I can’t let that happen. I must get out of this book. Sovvan punched the darkness again. “Let me out!”

  “Sovvan?”

  “Misriah?” Sovvan rolled over, searching for that angel. She had only a little room to maneuver, but she used every inch of it.

  “Who were you expecting? A demon? Sorry to disappoint you.” That snarky Guardian Angel replied, but Sovvan still couldn’t see her. Where was she?

  “What are you doing here?” Sovvan felt along the page and wasn’t too surprised when her hand grazed a raised line that curved into a helm. What the hell? “Are you wearing a helmet?”

  Misriah slapped her hand away. “Yes, we’re sort of fighting a dragon right now. I say ‘sort of’ because your brother isn’t into offense, not magically or physically. He just keeps thinking about defensive options and hugging his kid, and I’m getting tired of whispering suggestions he doesn’t heed. I’m not even sure if he even hears me. I might just be wasting my breath at this point.” Misriah heaved a long-suffering sigh.

  “That’s why you need me. I was supposed to be the warrior princess, and he was supposed to be my mage and travel companion.” But things hadn’t worked out that way since she’d died in childhood, and Sarn had lived. “I’m all about the offense.” Sovvan rolled up her sleeves and waited, but nothing happened. Misriah didn’t use her angelic skills to whisk Sovvan away to her family. Damn.

  “Unfortunately, I do need you. You can hear me and sometimes, you listen.” So why did Misriah sound upset about that?

  “Then what are we waiting for? Get me out of here, and I’ll kick whatever butt needs kicking.” Sovvan raised her fists as high as she could in her cramped prison, but nothing happened. No magic spirited her away.

  “Where are you? I can barely see you,” Misriah asked, and the image of her on the page turned her head.

  “Wait, are you here, or are you just a picture on a page?” Because that was just creepy. Sovvan would never look at books the same way after this adventure. In fact, she might never open one again.

  “That has to be the weirdest question anyone has ever asked me. No, I’m not a picture in a book. I’m a Guardian Angel. You know that.”

  “Then how are you talking to me?” Sovvan ran her hand over the image, and it moved when Misriah spoke.

  “I’m talking to you through the bond you have with your twin. How else could I?”

  The link to her brother jerked, pulling Sovvan against the page. “Keep pulling. Pull me out!”

  “I suppose I could. The Balance is so fubared at the moment, I’m not sure if a little more stress on it would matter in the grand scheme of things.”

  That took Sovvan by surprise. If Misriah was thinking about stressing that Balance she so adored, then things must be profoundly screwed up. They must need me now more than ever. “That’s the spirit. Pull me out. I can’t help anyone until you release me.”

  “On the other hand, I’m sworn to uphold the Balance, not knock it further off-kilter.” The link slackened as Misriah let go.

  I knew her change of heart was too good to be true. Sovvan dropped her head into her hands. “Sarn, if you can hear me, summon me or have your son do it like he did when I saved him from that fall.” It had worked then. It should work now, and Sovvan liked that Ran had been able to call her.

  “No, I don’t think they’ll be doing that either.” Misriah just had to dash her last hope of rescue.

  “Why not? You need a fighter. I’m becoming one. I don’t see the problem.” But Sovvan didn’t care about an abstract concept, like this balance thing Misriah was constantly talking about.

  “Well, you’re almost here anyway. You might as well continue as you are. You’ll make a grand entrance. I’ll see you in a bit. You might want to cover your head. Good luck.”

  “Gee, thanks for nothing.” Sovvan touched the link to her twin. Bro, we have to talk about your Guardian Angel. You need to petition a higher power for a new one. Or better yet, ask them to let me do it. I’d make a kickass Guardian Angel with some training, of course. Sovvan pounded her fists on the ceiling of her prison.

  “No, you wouldn’t. You’d make more of a mess of things than you already have,” Misriah said.

  She just had to get one last dig in. What an annoying angel. Thank God, Shonofar, Korontis, and the other Angels Sovvan had met were nothing like Misriah.

  “Brace yourself, Sovvan. You’re about to cras
h-land.”

  “Thanks for the warning, Miss Obvious.” Sovvan covered her head and pulled her knees in toward her chest just moments before the book crashed into something. It bounced twice before settling then it shot forward until it smashed into something else, and that thing shattered. Pieces of it struck the book. Great, how was she supposed to escape this book if it was covered by debris? Why is nothing ever easy?

  Crouching Clockwork Creatures

  [Westchester, NY]

  Glass tinkled as it struck the tiles and bounced harmlessly off the dragon’s scales. “Finally, I was getting tired of waiting for you to show up.” The dragon pivoted to face the metallic creature who’d tumbled through the broken window.

  The metal lady landed in a crouch, and tiny gears turned in her chest. Papa covered my eyes with his big hand because the metallic lady was naked, and he doesn’t like it when people stare. But I couldn’t help it. I’d never seen anything like her before.

  “She’s not Sovvan, is she?” Uncle Miren asked, and I realized he hadn’t met my aunt yet.

  But Papa corrected him before I could. “No, Sovvan’s my twin sister. She looks just like me.”

  “But she’s a girl, so she has long hair and wears a dress, and she has these things—” I trailed off as I pointed to my chest.

  “I would hope so since she’s a girl and all.” Uncle Miren ruffled my hair as my face slowly reddened.

  “What about those storerooms,” Melinda prompted from somewhere in the crowd of lookie-loos. “Did your magic find anything useful in there?”

  “Hey, that was my plan. It’s my job to ask for updates on it.” I drew myself up to my full height, but Papa replied before I could ask him. This was turning into a habit for him, and I liked it. He should talk more.

  “No, I couldn’t get past that mysterious field. I’ll try again, but it’s spreading faster now.” Papa squeezed the bridge of his nose and winced.

  Uncle Miren laid a restraining hand on his shoulder. “Don’t, not if it’ll drain you. We might need another shield before this is over.”