Dragon with a Deadly Weapon

by Michael Angel

  “I too appreciate mine own knighthood!” Shaw declared. “As a sacred seal of honor, it gives me all the more reason for dying gloriously in battle!”

  “Well, then,” Vandegrift said, “if you’re knighting anything on two – or four – legs these days, I’d add Nagura to the list. She’s an honorable beastie, and fearsome, too!”

  “As is your dragon?” Fitzwilliam asked, as he looked over to where Silverbane sat gleaming in the sun. “He looks to be a marvel, though perhaps not quite as intelligent as Nagura here.”

  The Dragon Knight rubbed his chin at that.

  “Well, he doesn’t talk to me via scribbles, that much is for sure.” Vandegrift turned his attention to Nagura. “You have me as curious as a magpie. Can you speak to Silver?”

  “We do not know,” Nagura admitted, with a flurry of marker strokes. “We of the Hakseeka are closely related to Dragonkind. Silverbane may be feral, as all wyverns beyond this palace are today. Yet we are also curious. We shall try.”

  The former wyvern queen lifted her head and opened her mouth. A slew of rock-cracking sounds issued forth.

  “Cho-ha! Kesh-sla-ha. Cho-ma-kesh-la!”

  Silverbane perked up, tilting his head towards her. His eyes narrowed, though not in anger or calculation. Instead, the dragon appeared to be trying to figure out what the wyvern was saying.

  Suddenly, a new sound cut through the air, sending a twang through me for both its familiarity and yet utterly alien presence. All eyes flew to me as it repeated.

  I was still dressed for Los Angeles, not Andeluvia. I’d needed to stay in ‘modern’ get-up so that no one at the hospital would pay attention to me. I dug frantically in my jacket pocket and brought out my cell phone.

  I’d completely forgotten about it, of course. Fitzwilliam didn’t like me bringing technology into his world, but I just kept the phone hidden. There weren’t any transmission towers, communication networks, and zero coverage a whole world away.

  But then the impossible happened.

  My phone’s screen lit up with the words UNLISTED NUMBER and sent out a third ring.

  Throat dry, I forced my shaking fingers to answer it.

  Chapter Sixteen

  For a moment it was all I could do to stare at the phone’s screen.

  UNLISTED NUMBER.

  My fingers moved to answer the call, almost against my wishes.

  “Hello?” I said, as I tried to keep my voice from trembling. “Who is this?”

  An all-too-familiar rasp of a voice came from the speaker. “I think you know who this is.”

  I practically spat the words. “Damon Harrison.”

  Everyone grew deathly quiet as I said the name. Vandergrift just looked confused, but King Fitzwilliam put up his hand, urging him to stay silent. I turned and looked around the courtyard, but of course I didn’t see anyone.

  “This is a fine trick,” I went on. “Especially since there aren’t any cell towers in this world.”

  “You’d be surprised at what I can do,” he replied, still in that quiet, unsettling tone. “What I can do, where I can go, and how badly I can hurt you.”

  I caught Shaw’s eye and made an ‘up!’ gesture. The drake nodded grimly. With a massive beat of his wings, he took to the air and began spiraling high into the sky. If Harrison was anywhere to be found nearby, the griffin’s keen eagle eyes should spot him.

  “You already had your chance to kill me,” I said, sounding braver than I really felt. “You took a swing, and you missed.”

  “I didn’t miss. I just didn’t try. You’re the thorn of destiny in my side, after all.”

  “Careful, Harrison. Thorns can draw blood. And they’re hard to get rid of.”

  A dry laugh in answer.

  “How true! You definitely qualify, on both counts. And just as you’ve caused me pain, then I’m going to show you what it feels like to mourn.”

  A click, and the words SPEAKERPHONE ON appeared. Harrison’s voice swelled into a crescendo of harsh, ugly words. I desperately thumbed the button to close the call, but it didn’t work.

  “Erasik! Eta hiltzeko niri! Erasik dizut orain!”

  “Dayna!” Galen cried, “he’s casting a spell!”

  I jammed my fingers against the phone’s MUTE and POWER buttons, but the phrase repeated, even more loudly.

  “Erasik! Eta hiltzeko niri! ERASIK DIZUT ORAIN!”

  I threw the phone down at my feet and then stamped my booted heel on the screen. Finally, the voice went silent. I looked around wildly. Everyone was doing the same, but otherwise, they appeared unaffected by any hostile force.

  “What happened?” King Fitzwilliam breathed. “Did the spell misfire?”

  The squeak of markers on a whiteboard, followed by Nagura’s voice, answered him. “We felt it pass through the air. It did not miss. But we do not know where–”

  Her voice cut off abruptly as she dropped the marker.

  A snakelike hiss cut through the air.

  And it didn’t come from the wyvern queen.

  Silverbane had shifted his position to a predatory crouch. His wings had been pulled back tight against his glittering frame. His nostrils flared, filling the air with snorts that sounded like the belch from a turbocharger. But that wasn’t what frightened me.

  The dragon’s eyes were filmed over in the exact same way as I’d seen before. When the Ultari had ‘hosted’ both centaur warriors and cops from the LAPD. I felt my skin ripple as if I’d walked into the OME’s chiller room.

  Vandegrift turned and strode towards his faithful mount.

  “What the blazes has gone wrong with you?” he demanded. “You know better than this, ‘Bane!”

  The Dragon Knight had at least drawn the creature’s attention for a few vital seconds. But I didn’t dare take my eyes off the dragon. I threw my jacket back and groped blindly for my gun. Hoofbeats sounded in my ear as Galen and Liam came to my side.

  “Get out of there, Captain!” I shouted. Of course, he ignored me.

  “So you’re going to force my hand, old friend,” Vandegrift said, between clenched teeth. His mount began to advance upon him, claws opening and closing with murderous intent. The Captain stood his ground and flung one hand up. “So be it. Akz akavi, zaklini!”

  A zing! as his magic hit home. The dragon crouched down for a moment as if bowed under a huge weight. Vandergrift stared as his mount shook off the spell, shaking and shivering for a moment like a dog who’d been doused with a tub of cold water.

  Silverbane let out a guttural roar of rage. Gathering himself, he charged at full speed. His claws gouged out slivers of rock from the flagstones as he accelerated. Vandegrift refused to budge. He kept on shouting at his faithful mount, arm outstretched as if he could single-handedly stop the creature that bore down upon him.

  The great silver reptile didn’t so much as slow down as he plowed through his rider.

  Vandegrift didn’t go down under his dragon’s talons. Silverbane’s armored snout batted him off to one side without a second’s pause. The man flew back as if shot from a cannon. He landed in a heap of leather armor and wild hair at the far side of the courtyard and did not get up.

  “Nidher-slä!” Galen shouted, as he brought a hand down in a diagonal slash. A wall of blue energy winked on as the Wizard brought up his Shield of Turning.

  Silverbane smashed through Galen’s spell with a horrific crackle. Silvery chunks of the dragon’s armor plate flew sizzling through the air like scales from a gigantic fish. The air filled with the stench of seared flesh.

  Battered and smoking, the creature came on. It was too late to get out of the way. Galen scrambled to cast another spell. Liam had put his antlers out before us, but the Protector’s magic didn’t block physical attacks.

  Fitzwilliam knew that running wasn’t an option for him. He held his walking stick out as a weapon, though it would only be as marginally effective as Liam’s antlers. I had my gun out, but unless I got lucky, a nine-millimeter bullet wasn�
�t going to stop the equivalent of a reptilian freight train.

  The eardrum-rending hiss of ocean water meeting hot lava filled the air. A shadow blotted out the sun as Nagura leapt over us, spreading her wings to gain the lift she needed. Silverbane, moving much too fast for an animal his size, pivoted and brought his teeth to bear as the two joined in battle.

  The dragon clamped his toothy snout onto his foe’s throat. Nagura screeched as she fell to her side before fighting back as only a wyvern queen could.

  Nagura threw her massive coils about Silverbane’s body like a giant anaconda. She managed to curl her long neck about and bite her foe’s forearm. The dragon ripped and tore with his teeth, as his limbs were pinned against his body. Green and black ichor flew, spattering the entire courtyard, but it was impossible to tell who it came from.

  I brought my gun up, but it was hopeless. Dragon and wyvern were wrapped together in a death embrace now. Shaw let out an eagle’s squawk of frustration as he swooped back in. But even the griffin couldn’t see a way to help without hurting his friend.

  Finally, Galen at least did something constructive.

  “Pardon, your Majesty,” said the Court Wizard, as he scooped Fitzwilliam up in both arms. “We are not keen on losing you again.”

  The centaur whisked the King off to the shelter of the South Keep’s entryway. Liam remained where he was, doing his best to shield me with his antlers. A distant shout came from along the battlements, where Commander Yervan led a squad of the Palace Guard towards us. But they’d only reach the courtyard after the issue was decided.

  Silverbane let out a despairing roar as he continued to tear at the wound he’d opened in Nagura’s neck. The Hakseeka queen either didn’t feel it or she ignored the pain as she finally threw her last loop about the dragon’s hindquarters.

  Then the loops tightened, turning into lethal bronze rings as she squeezed.

  All went silent save for the heaving breaths of the two giant creatures. Silverbane let go of Nagura’s neck and let out a despairing wail. A gout of green ichor erupted from his mouth. Suddenly, with the awful, wet snap of bone, the dragon’s spine gave way.

  The filmed-over eyes went completely blank as the color drained out of them. Nagura loosened her coils. With a massive series of thuds, Silverbane’s body fell free in gross, misshapen chunks where Nagura had crushed him to a pulp.

  While she’d won the battle, the wyvern queen now lay limply on her side. Black blood pumped sluggishly from the side of her throat. I staggered forward as if in a daze as Galen galloped over to join me and Liam. I turned frantically to the Court Wizard.

  “Magic,” I gasped. “You have to help her!”

  “I have no spells that can close that great a wound,” Galen protested. “Even what I have wouldn’t work on something as exotic as an ancient wyvern.”

  “Stasis, then!” I demanded. “Hold her in time until we can figure something out!”

  “Dayna, I realize this is an emergency,” the Wizard said, even as his voice choked up. “But it took all my power to maintain a stasis spell encompassing an area the size of a mead jug!”

  “Can you help my friend, then?” Fitzwilliam demanded, as he limped over on his walking stick. “I charge you with this duty, Court Wizard! Save him if you can!”

  Galen nodded. “If he still breathes, that may be within my power.”

  The centaur galloped off to where Vandegrift lay still upon the ground. My mind was awhirl. The enemy had dealt us the worst blow yet, and the final battle wasn’t even upon us! Liam spoke up next, his voice grim.

  “Perhaps my magic can remove some of her pain.”

  “I have a better idea,” I said. I stripped off my jacket and draped it over his antlers. “Use the cloth to put direct pressure on that open wound. But if her blood burns you, don’t try it.”

  “And what dost thou wish of me?” Shaw called from above, as Liam trotted over to Nagura’s side.

  “Keep circling!” I shouted back. “Keep a sharp eye for any hostile movement! This may not be the only dirty trick Harrison has up his sleeve!”

  “And how was that trick pulled off?” Fitzwilliam demanded. “How did he know we were assembled here?”

  I stared down at the remains of my phone. The complex piece of technology was a half-crushed pile of broken glass, plastic, and silicon chips.

  My head came up. Technology wasn’t the only thing I could bring from my world. I checked my watch and noted the time. Then, I looked over to where Commander Yervan’s men were starting to draw near.

  “Your Majesty,” I said quickly, “will you have your Palace Guard swear to protect Nagura from any and all comers? As she lies wounded, some ambitious lordling or knight might try to wring a trophy from her.”

  “No one shall touch her on pain of death,” Fitzwilliam swore. “That noble creature saved us all. Yet I sense that her time of passing is very near.”

  I set my jaw at that. Nagura’s eyes remained closed, but her wings quivered, as if cold. She still clasped her marker board in one outstretched claw. I forced myself to choke back my emotions. No, I wasn’t going to accept this.

  This wasn’t how my story was going to end, not with another friend dead and me to blame.

  “Maybe I can save her, Sire. I have to try.”

  “Do what you must, Dame Chrissie,” the King urged.

  I held a single image in my mind as I pressed my fingers to my medallion.

  Once again, the world vanished in a blaze of white.

  Chapter Seventeen

  I stepped out of the transport spell and almost ended up as roadkill at the end of Shelly’s driveway.

  Her golden behemoth of a Lincoln Town Car rolled backwards towards me. I threw myself to one side across her lawn before ‘Honeylemon’ could run me over. Shelly stopped the car with a screech of her brakes.

  She shut off the engine and threw open the driver’s side door. Her pince-nez glasses slipped off her nose and dangled by a tortoiseshell-colored strap around her neck as she ran over to me.

  “Oh, Lordy Lordy!” she exclaimed, as she helped me up. “Dayna, I swear I didn’t see you! Are you hurt?”

  “I’m fine,” I said, between heaving breaths. “That was my fault. Knew your schedule. Figured I’d catch you if I used Galen’s transport spell.”

  “Used Galen’s…” Shelly whirled around, making sure that none of her neighbors had witnessed my arrival. She had little to worry about. It was mid-morning by now, so everyone in her cul-de-sac had already left for work. “What’s going on?”

  “One of my friends is bleeding out,” I said bluntly. “They’ll be dead in a few minutes unless I bring a vet-tech to Andeluvia. Will you come?”

  Shelly brightened as if electrified.

  “Come to Andeluvia? Yes! Only…oh Sweet Jesus, is it the Albess? Or Galen?”

  “Neither,” I said. “Her name’s Nagura. You haven’t met her yet.”

  Shelly restored her glasses to their rightful spot atop the bridge of her nose and then ran back to her car. She stuck her hand inside and found the right button to press. Her garage door began to roll up with a metallic clatter. I followed her as she went inside.

  Like nine out of ten people in Southern California, Shelly used her two-car garage as storage space and parked her cars in the driveway. A good chunk of the interior was taken up by home gardening bric-a-brac and stacks of multi-colored dishware.

  Yet a third of the garage had been neatly sorted. A bookshelf loaded with veterinary science texts sat to one side. The top of an executive-sized desk held three bags of gear. Each bag had been grouped into a lined section drawn by felt marker and labeled EQUINE, CERVINE, and AVIAN.

  “I’ve been gettin’ ready for this day,” she admitted. “What sort of critter are we talking about here?”

  “A wyvern queen. Old, reptilian. Closest analogy would be…um, a thirty-foot long snake with wings and hindlimbs.”

  Shelly stared at me for a moment, speechless. She shook it
off and grabbed the pack labeled EQUINE.

  “I don’t have any medications to treat reptiles,” she explained. “But this kit’s got the largest spool of surgical thread and a Texas-sized bottle of tissue adhesive. Those’ve got to come in handy.”

  “Cross your fingers. Ready to go?” Shelly nodded, stepping as close to my side as she could. “Okay, you’re going to feel a little jolt before we arrive. Try to keep your balance.”

  I touched my fingers to the medallion, visualizing the area outside the South Keep.

  Shelly gasped as the whiteness and chlorinated pool smell enveloped us for the space of three heartbeats. She staggered under the weight of her kit as we arrived, but I easily steadied her with one hand.

  The air stank with the smell of burnt flesh and the acidic tang of reptilian blood. Fitzwilliam and Galen remained across the courtyard, working alongside a pair of white-cloaked women from the House of Hospitalliers. The King appeared to be speaking softly to the battered, heavily bandaged Vandegrift. Galen was busy helping lift the man into the Hospitalliers’ stretcher.

  A shadow passed by overhead as Shaw continued his patrol in earnest. Commander Yervan and his men were posted at all four corners of the courtyard, barring entry to the gathering crowds. Liam alone remained with Nagura. His antlers held my makeshift compress firmly in place, yet a growing pool of blood formed a dark shadow under the dying wyvern.

  Shelly stood and stared, letting the sights and smells wash over her.

  “Oh my stars and garters,” she breathed. “This is really happening, ain’t it?”

  “It’s as real as it gets,” I said. “But I need you to focus on one thing right now: your patient.”

  She nodded, and we headed over to where Nagura lay prone and unmoving.

  “Liam!” I cried. “I’ve brought Shelly. Is it safe to touch Nagura’s blood?”

  “Somewhat,” the Protector replied. Shelly stared at the fayleene stag as he answered, but she didn’t object. “It stings. And it’s surprisingly hot.”

  As if to illustrate, Liam lifted one of his forehooves, which was spattered with black goo, and shook it. However, he remained in place with his head bent slightly down, holding my jacket against the open wound. The clothing looked as if it had been used to clean up an oil slick.