Fianna the Gold

by Louisa Kelley

  They groaned in unison. “For freak’s sake,” said Orla. “Here it is.” They finished reading the article. Thank the gods the news media was inclined to think everything was a hoax. Who would believe dragons really flew over Portland? There were all kinds of theories. A drone company with holographic tech? Some super-secret new tech involving augmented realities that could be projected? Lots of musing about projection art, which was the big new thing, apparently. Or perhaps an animation film studio doing cutting-edge, high-end promotion about a film with dragons? There were sight reports ranging from southeast Portland all the way to the Gorge. The only thing everyone agreed on was how bizarre the weather had been, blowing in a huge rainstorm seemingly out of nowhere, when the predictions had been clear and dry. The dragons had flown behind or inside the clouds for the most part, aided by jags of white lightening and rain pouring in sheets. Anyone had been able to look up and detect an illusion in the shape of a dragon in such a storm-tossed sky—seemed to be the general consensus, at least for those determined to give a natural reason for the visions.

  The real dragons grew a bit calmer as they read, with the exception of Abbie, who thought her head might explode. They were reading a newspaper? Didn’t the dragons understand about the internet? What about cell phones? Questions choked in her throat, and she went cold with renewed paranoia. This really was all her fault. If she hadn’t left her house to begin with, where she’d been ordered to wait, Marcus wouldn’t have trapped her. None of it would have happened. Maybe they’d feel differently about the things she’d done.

  Fianna felt her distress and leaned in to whisper, “Stop. Marcus would have found another way to catch you, believe me.”

  Abbie shook her head, not sure how to explain everything was probably so much worse than they realized right now.

  Miriam leaned over the table to read the article, her face fascinated. After a few minutes, she cleared her throat. “Do you mind if I ask a question?” she asked tentatively.

  “Perfect timing,” Nareen said, who raised an elegant eyebrow and appeared to know the question coming.

  Everyone’s attention swung to Miriam, who perched on the edge of her chair, hands wrung together in a nervous gesture. “Are you aware of the internet? Do you understand cell phones?”

  Great, someone’s getting a clue. Abbie was glad it wasn’t her breaking the news.

  Except for Nareen, the Draca looked dumbfounded. Of course, they knew about the internet. So?

  They still didn’t understand. Abbie’s despair grew. Nareen had to save them.

  “Yes,” Nareen said, her tone loaded with implication. “And I believe there’s something you can do about it.”

  Miriam looked startled, then speculative. “So…this is why you brought me here?”

  “There are many reasons why you are here,” said Nareen, cool and queenly. “The least of which is facing possible punishment for your crime against one of our own.”

  Miriam shrank back. “Punishment?” Her voice wavered. Good. Abbie’s sister-self fully approved. Here we go. What kind of punishment?

  Nareen walked over to Miriam, the sharp tap of her red heels on the hardwood floor the only sound. They regarded each other in mutual assessment. Miriam, the cunning schemer, had more than met her match, and by the resigned look on her face, she knew it, too. Abbie suppressed a snicker.

  Nareen held out her hand and without a word, Miriam pulled an iPhone from her pocket and laid it in her palm.

  Everyone gasped. Guin looked affronted. “Hey!” she glared at Miriam. “I told you no phones.”

  “Yes, well, at the time, I thought, screw that. Which perhaps was…another miscalculation on my part.”

  Abbie winced. Yep, that was Miriam in her arrogant bitch mode. She really hoped Nareen brought on the pain while they got to watch. Plus, she couldn’t wait to hear the new plan.

  Nareen ignored the comment. She inspected the phone and traced down the screen with one long finger. “Photos. And videos. Yes?”

  Miriam nodded.

  “Access to the…wide internet. Something called ‘you tube.’ And ‘goog?’”

  Miriam nodded again, her repressed smirk annoying to everyone.

  Nareen addressed the group. “The chaos caused in the city by our appearance will be alleviated shortly with the bestowal of a special working by our gods.” She nodded at the sounds of relief. “However, this working can only go so far. I will be able to deal with the photos and videos taken locally. You, on the other hand”—Nareen handed the phone back to Miriam—“will take care of the rest.”

  Miriam’s mouth dropped open. “Guin said there’s no Wi-Fi up here. How am I—”

  “Check the phone,” Nareen interrupted.

  Miriam did. “Huh, you’re right. Well. That changes things.” Her eyes narrowed and she got that crafty, almost dragony, look. Abbie noticed Nareen was deliberately not treating Miriam like a total enemy. Making her sweat, though, she noted with satisfaction. She hoped Miriam’s ass was burning from the hot seat she was on.

  “You must be looking for a way to contain this,” Miriam said in a very nervous tone.

  “Go on,” Nareen said.

  Miriam cleared her throat. “Well, this is the era of fake news, after all, something that works greatly in your favor. I’m sure, with my contacts, I can get anonymous rumors started on the internet, which should reach across the globe in hours.” She sounded more confident as she spoke. “Enough to confuse and obfuscate the truth. And there’s always the weird fringe groups, who tend to believe the crazy stuff, like Bigfoot and the Loch Ness monster. Dragons? Same deal. That can be used that to your advantage, to cast doubt on what people saw.

  A moral use for fake news, Abbie thought. A chance to use evil for good. Hiding the existence of dragons was the perfect reason. Could Miriam really pull it off?

  Abbie whispered to Fianna, “There’s not really any reception up here, right?”

  Fianna nodded. “The full powers of the Queen are unknown,” she whispered back. “Watch and learn.”

  Miriam cleared her throat. “So…does this constitute my punishment?”

  “Not in full,” Nareen said.

  Miriam paled, the trace of arrogance that had surfaced vanished. “What else?” she asked in a faint tone.

  “First, I have something to show everyone,” Nareen said. “Come along.” Nareen swept from the living room and led the group up the stairs and along the second-floor hall to a door Abbie hadn’t noticed before.

  A massive oak desk sat in front of a large, curtained window encased to the floor in red velvet drapes. A thirty-four-inch, silver-rimmed computer monitor gleamed on the desk. Half a dozen square, mysterious black boxes ranged across the desk, sporting blinking purple lights and no obvious electrical connection or cables.

  “Miriam, the equipment here will support the functions of your telephone. You may reach out to the…interweb, or whatever it’s called, safely from this room only,” Nareen said.

  “What network are you using?” Miriam asked.

  “You are working on the Dracan communication system. It is unique. Quite secure, one of a kind, magical, and untraceable. There are certain tasks you may attempt, others you may not. The setup was done by the new technology master of Dracan, a young Dracan female, who has acquired considerable powers. Yet she is young and lacking wisdom, and that has gotten her into quite a bit of trouble. She also is making up for her mistakes.” She flicked at a single piece of paper. “I believe she provided a few instructions.” She gave Miriam a hard look. “And a list of rules, which are to be followed exactly.”

  The group was so collectively blindsided Abbie struggled not to laugh. What was going on? Technology master? As far as she knew, the Draca didn’t even use electrical power on Dracan. The sisters-Draca processed only surprise at how fast Nareen put solutions in place. The Queen never ceased to amaze. She hadn’t even had the entire story until now.

  Miriam started for the desk, her face avi
d. “Amazing,” she murmured, and ran a finger over one of the blinking lights. “How are these connected?” She looked on the floor for wires.

  “I cannot give you much help from here.” Nareen said. “My assumption is you have the training and intelligence to analyze the situation and handle it as we request. Use the devices to undo the harm you have caused the Draca. Is that understood?”

  Miriam nodded, the color draining out of her face as the import of Nareen’s words sunk in.

  Nareen continued, “You conspired with a dementia-impaired, narcissistic, ancient dragon to hurt one of our own and have put our existence in potential danger with the entire world. You owe us a great debt, one which is nonnegotiable and unbreakable until satisfied. This is the way of Shifter contracts and one even a clever human with millions to spend cannot get out of.”

  Miriam flinched, her voice laced with panic. “I—I never really meant you harm, I just…totally lost my head. Then I saw how truly magnificent you are. I could never hurt you again, I swear. I am deeply sorry for any harm I caused. In fact, I truly do want to help you.”

  “Such an attitude will work in your favor during your stay here.”

  “My stay?” The words came out on a squeak.

  “You will remain here until your debt is paid. Or, at least until this matter is resolved. Whether it satisfies your debt or not, is unknown.”

  “You mean, not go back to Portland? How…what about my house, my business?”

  Nareen interrupted her anxious questions. “Questions later, Miriam. You and I will be having a private conversation, very soon.” The expression on her face caused Miriam to snap her mouth shut.

  Abbie loved seeing Miriam’s fearful squirming. Miriam stuck at the cabin? The group waited for the hammer to finish coming down.

  “The Council has come up with a hasty proposal which requires the agreement of the mission leader,” Nareen said, with a nod to Fianna. “We believe it best, for the time being, for Guin to remain at the sanctuary to monitor the developing situation and watch over Miriam. Settling things with the human community will take time and requires onsite monitoring, perhaps a couple of months, maybe less, but no one knows for sure. The dracophone will be here, of course, for communication.”

  Nareen paused, eyebrows raised. “Everyone understand so far? Fianna, have we your agreement?”

  Fianna nodded. “As long as Guin is good with it.”

  Guin shrugged, her expression neutral. “Eight weeks or so. Not a problem.”

  “What happens with Miriam…later? Once the situation has been settled?” Fianna asked.

  “Ah,” Nareen said, then switched to the internal telepathy between the sisters. “Miriam’s involvement with the Draca after satisfying her debt is unknown and will be decided by the Council. Miriam brings her own set of complications to our lives here, I understand. However, it’s nothing Guin can’t handle. We should use such a thing to our advantage, don’t you agree? History has proven the difficulty in maintaining the upper hand with humans. I intend to change that, using one who would have used us.”

  Abbie’s sharpening telepathic senses felt Nareen’s almost bitter statement shoot through the group like an arrow. The Draca thought her unusual frankness showed she cared about what they thought. The sisters murmured approval. The plan seemed sound enough, and the ramifications of the unusual facts that emerged about Abbie weren’t understood yet. The game was on, full of intriguing unknowns, a rather agreeable situation for dragons. Abbie was fascinated by the silent conversation.

  “There is no need for concern about the future,” said Nareen out loud. She was taking pity on Miriam, who looked miserable. “Miriam, would you like to take a look at the equipment now?”

  Miriam’s face brightened and she started toward the desk, then turned. “Is it okay to turn stuff on?”

  Opinions in the room fluctuated in the seconds it took to realize Nareen meant to leave Miriam here alone right now.

  “We have other urgent business to attend to,” said the Queen. “Good luck,” she said to Miriam, then ushered the surprised group out of the room.

  How could Nareen trust Miriam with all that magical equipment? Abbie was surprised to see Miriam left alone, with access to the internet no less. Fianna shrugged in response to Abbie’s look.

  “The Queen,” she said, as if that answered everything.

  They milled, restless, in the living room. The candles had burned to fragrant puddles and sun streamed in from the east window. Abbie’s shoulders itched in that familiar way. The needs of her dual nature stirred, wanting flight and big sky. And hunting, which they still argued about. Fianna slung her arm over Abbie’s shoulder and waited, sharing her impatience.

  Nareen swept across the room and flung open the front door. “Let’s go. We’ve got other work to do.” She kicked off her heels and strode barefoot, fast and graceful into the meadow, her gown wafting behind her in the morning breeze like a floating rose.

  a

  They were on a mission again. Newly focused, the Draca strode down the rocky path in an easy, loping walk behind Nareen, who led them down the rocky path toward the meadow.

  Fianna felt everyone’s surprise when Nareen stopped halfway across the field. She took Abbie by the hand and led her a few feet away from the curious Draca. “Before we start the spell, there’s something I’ve been waiting for,” Nareen said. “Abbie, will you please shift? I’d like to see what you look like in your dragon form. All this talk about your bloodline and scales has the Council and myself very intrigued. Show me your dragon, Abbie.”

  Fianna felt Abbie’s alarm. “You can do this,” she said. “Just like we’ve practiced together.”

  “You mean now?” Abbie stalled.

  “Yes!” the group said.

  “Let’s see those gleaming blues,” said Orla.

  She rolled her eyes but started taking her clothes off. “Okay. I mean, remember, this is still new to me, okay?”

  She stood naked and almost composed in the cool morning breeze. “Now?”

  “Now,” said the group.

  Fianna swelled with pride as she watched Abbie prepare her mind and spirit, just like she’d taught her. A few seconds later, a shining, blue-scaled dragon burst to life before them. Her gold eyes narrowed in excitement, and she whipped her tail across the damp meadow, thumping her satisfaction.

  Nareen strode to Abbie, making cooing sounds. “Oh, aren’t you a gorgeous thing?” she murmured, running her hands along the scaly length of Abbie’s neck. “And look at those eyes. Gold, just like you said, Fianna. Most unusual.”

  Abbie’s golden eyes gleamed acknowledgment. Yes, Fianna agreed silently. She is so pretty, isn’t she?

  Dragon purring sounds came from Abbie’s long snout as Nareen walked in a slow circle around her, trailing her fingers along Abbie’s rounded form as she went.

  “There is nothing of Diamond House in the way you look,” Nareen said. “Yet…” She leaned back to get a better look. “Your behavior reminds me so much of Marcus in his younger days.”

  Fianna repressed a smirk. Nareen didn’t know the half of it.

  Nareen stooped for something on the ground. She held up an indigo blue dragon scale. “You still shed when you shift, little dracling,” she said. “Must have been how Miriam got her hands on one of these.” She stared at the small piece in her palm. “Such a commotion over such a tiny scale,” she said, and slipped it into a hidden pocket in her gown. “We’ll need more of these eventually,” she said to dragon Abbie. She patted Abbie’s side. “You won’t mind, will you?”

  Abbie practically preened. “Of course, anything for the Queen.”

  “All right, then. This is a good start. One more rather large task awaits us.” She gave Abbie a final, affectionate pat. “Go ahead and shift back now, please.”

  Abbie shimmered into her human body, grinning ear to ear. “How’d I do?” she whispered to Fianna.

  “Fantastic,” Fianna said, and tossed her a shi
rt. She grabbed her hand after Abbie dressed and followed Nareen the rest of the way across the meadow.

  Fianna herself should be feeling fantastic. So why didn’t she?

  “Magic’s afoot,” Fianna said internally to Abbie as they walked. “I think we’re going to activate the working Nareen mentioned, the one that’s going to help us put the big whammy on the cell phones.” She kicked a rock as they made their way across the meadow. Then another one, a little harder.

  “What’s the matter, Fianna?” Abbie asked, feeling her mood.

  “Nothing. I probably just need to shift. We all do.”

  Her sister-self grumbled about Miriam being left alone in the house, sharing Abbie’s discomfort over the thought. None of them understood the full extent of what Nareen and the Council were up to, with this whole testing thing.

  Fianna felt uncomfortable with her subtle, twitchy reactions over Nareen’s authority. She had been assigned mission leader, but Nareen was the Queen and the voice of the Council. Still…What happened to her redemption quest?

  Abbie tugged her hand. “What’s going on?”

  Fianna shook her head, and dropped to the damp grass where Nareen indicated. They arrayed themselves behind her, while Fianna tried to center herself with instructing Abbie. Abbie seemed to be doing great. Better than her right now, Fianna thought, confused over her feelings. “This is the magic part of dealing with the public fallout over our flight episode.”

  Fianna closed her eyes and focused on the sounds of the birds chittering, the rustle of the trees swaying in the gentle breeze. Power rose from the ground beneath her, the earth stirring in response to the siren call of shape-shifter magic. Nareen was pulling on their collective powers, along with the root spell, and Fianna needed to drop her attitude or risk putting the spell in jeopardy.

  A sudden image rose of the anguished face of young Coren’s mother when she found out her dracling had been lost in the dark woods, because Fianna allowed him to go there. She heard the angry voices later, accusing her of neglect and irresponsibility, the final slam of the gavel in the Council meeting that stripped her beloved job away. Nareen had told her not to give up, cementing the feeling she hadn’t won her quest yet. Would the Council let her help with dracling training again? Had she done enough? Her throat grew tight. Where was the sense of victory she’d felt when they’d marched the sullen, roped-up Marcus to the cabin?