Chapter Four
The dragon signed in American Sign Language. It held up its hands and it signed in a human language. It communicated.
“How the hell did it learn to finger-spell?” I held out my arms more from shocked indignation than anything else, even though I really shouldn’t be shocked. Why was I shocked? Maybe they’re fast learners. It did give off a bored vibe. Maybe it had been spending its time between marking hellhound corpses watching tutorial videos on what was left of the Internet.
Maybe the evil techno dino-iguana god-thing tapping at the window liked learning about American Sign Language, cats, and building deck furniture out of old pallets.
Or maybe we had some more wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey shit going on.
“I do not like this,” I said.
Harold laughed. A full-on bwa-ha-ha burst out of him before he pinched his lips together. Then he rubbed at his nose and sniffed against the cold air inside the bus.
Daniel did his best to suppress his own laugh and snorted instead. Marcus just groaned.
The dragon tapped the window again and signaled once more for us to come out.
“He’s out there with Mrs. K,” I said.
Daniel stared through the window at the dragon. “They really don’t seem to be bothered by the cold, do they?” he muttered.
“So?” I said.
Daniel nudged me away from the window, then moved close enough so the dragon could see him clearly. He raised his arms and, in full American Sign Language, told the dragon something I sort of understood.
I didn’t know a lot of ASL. We had a surprisingly large number of oldsters at Paradise Homes who liked to sign even though most of them weren’t hard of hearing or deaf, and several had made a point to teach the staff, so I’d picked up about a first- or second-year student’s worth of understanding.
So I knew how to finger spell. I knew the signs for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I also knew how to sign jigsaw puzzle and slippers.
I also knew that Daniel had just asked the dragon to explain itself. And I knew what the dragon said in reply, even if its handforms were a bit odd, and it didn’t seem to have any more practice than I did.
The Captain, it signed.
“By every mother of every god humanity has ever created,” Harold muttered.
Marcus sat up. “It…”
Daniel pointed at his brother. “Do not use your seer!” he snapped. “For once in your life, will you please listen to your future-seeing brother? You have a concussion.”
Marcus closed his eyes. He nodded and leaned against the seat.
“Stay on the bus,” Daniel said. Then to Harold and me, “Time for a discussion.”
Harold shouldered the gun. “Is that wise?”
Daniel pushed by me and into the aisle. He stopped and I suspect ran his seers over the invader outside. “It’ll kill us if we don’t talk to it.”
“Will it kill us if we do?” I asked.
Daniel walked toward the door. “We have about a fifty-fifty chance of coming out of this alive.”
“That’s comforting,” I said.
Harold humphed.
“That’s better odds than most other times in our lives,” Marcus said from his place in Mrs. K’s seat.
Daniel nodded toward me. “Give the ring to Marcus. Don’t take it out there where that dragon might snatch it.”
I looked down at the gaudy thing around my finger. Part of me wanted to argue with the arrogant Fate. Part of me wanted to scream. And another part realized that I needed to follow Daniel’s directions if I was to have any chance of surviving what came next.
I handed the ring to Marcus. He held it on his palm, then closed his hand. He fished his phone from his pocket. “Do you want to record this, or should I?”
“I don’t want it to see you!” Harold said.
Marcus slowly looked up at his husband. He looked as if he wanted to sigh but knew the physical shoulder slump that came with it would only make his headache worse. He handed me the phone. “Mine has a good charge on it.” He squeezed my fingers. “Harold will blow its head off if it threatens you, correct?”
Harold dropped the big gun into his hands. “That’s my job.”
Daniel yanked on the handle that opened the door. It popped and rattled and hissed out of the way.
He sniffed at his bloody hand when he adjusted his glasses and frowned.
“Paper towels are behind the driver’s seat.” I pulled out a roll and tore off a few.
His eyebrows lifted high enough they were obvious over the frames of his glasses. “I can’t sign with a wad of towels around my hand.” He walked down the steps and into the cold Colorado sun.
Harold walked past me and stepped off next. I opened Marcus’s recording app, then followed.
The dragon did not back up. It twisted its big head, blinked, and sniffed at Daniel. Human, correct? it signed.
“Yes,” Daniel said and signed at the same time.
A sharp pattern of muted, interlocking greens and golds appeared on its side. It sniffed at Daniel again, then leaned back on its haunches before tapping at what had to be a keypad of some type on its arm.
The dragon dropped back onto all fours. It lowered its head and raised its tail to flatten its back. Then it tipped and rotated its head in what looked to me like the maneuver I used to shake my phone’s flashlight to life.
A yellow light flashed from the armor over its crest and down its snout, and the armor darkened as if powering down. Except it wasn’t powering down. It was powering up.
Lights danced in the air over the darkened armor.
An image appeared. A holographic video without sound.
Three humans dodged around big, dull-colored canisters. They all wore suits like the super-suit Leif wore under his armor and carried weapons that appeared to be more like standard-issue military gear than anything Seraphim. Two carried a small crate.
The images shook as if the dragon recording them had been jostled. The man in front, the one not involved with the crate, looked up.
His gear covered a lot of his face, and the image wasn’t that clear, but his features looked familiar. The man could have been Leif’s brother.
Or his father.
He fired his rifle at the dragon recording. The image ended with a burst of yellow-green light.
“Please tell me you got that,” Harold said.
“To the best of the chip in Marcus’s phone, yes,” I said.
The dragon lifted its head and raised its hands again. Humans start war, it signed.
Humans started this war? “How the hell is this a war?” I yelled. “You sneak-attacked us and dropped ballistics from orbit!”
The dragon bounced upward and slammed its hands against the pavement. Wild dark blues, reds, and yellows ripped up and down its sides.
It whipped its head, opened its dragon mouth, and breathed fire directly at the three of us.
Harold rolled around the corner of the bus and out of the flame’s way. I cringed and covered my face, and thankfully didn’t drop Marcus’s phone.
Daniel didn’t run or duck. Daniel stood still while the flame whipped around him.
We weren’t burned. The air held more heat than it should have, but I was neither singed nor scorched.
“I’ve witnessed enough flamings to know when a dragon means it or not,” Daniel said. He didn’t sign. He stared at the invader as more violent reds, blues, and yellows bristled across the dragon’s hide. Go away, he signed.
The dragon raised its head to the sky and released a hot, flaming roar.
Harold stepped around me and aimed the big gun. “Maybe I should kill it.”
“No.” Daniel held out his hand. “I don’t think it understands the true nature of what’s happening here.”
Harold’s eye twitched, but he held his aim. “We have here a non-friendly, armored dragon with fully-functioning talons and fire breath.” He shook the gun a little. “It’s about the same size as Ladon-Dra
gon. I’ve seen him hunt. I know how fast and dangerous they are.”
The dragon dropped its head low and let out another, lower roar.
“Daniel,” Harold said.
“Start the bus, Del,” Daniel said.
We shouldn’t have come out here with a dragon. We should have started the bus and driven away the moment it floated into sight over the vehicles. We shouldn’t have tried to communicate.
But then again, it probably would have blown up the bus from the air, and I wouldn’t have gotten the video of its video.
“What about Mrs. K?” I asked.
“I’ll call Praesagio. They’ll come get her,” Daniel said.
Praesagio? “But the rest of Vivicus’s team is with Praesagio.” We’d spent just as much time avoiding Praesagio as we had running from Vivicus and his merry band of super-soldiers.
Daniel pointed at me. “Listen to the future—”
The dragon rushed forward, knocking Daniel to the side with its neck, and headed straight for me.
I screamed. I froze up and screamed as if I was about to be eaten by the beast.
Harold spun the rifle and slammed its butt directly into the dragon’s snout.
The beast staggered to the side and shook its head, then flashed a series of specific-looking patterns and colors.
Patterns and colors that looked a lot like the ones it had flashed at its craft earlier.
“Go!” Harold pushed me toward the bus.
The dragon roared again and released a new, smaller, clearly hotter flame toward Harold. He dodged, but the side of the flame singed the sleeve of his jacket.
“Hey!” Daniel yelled. He whipped a blood-covered rock at the dragon’s eye. It hit and bounced off the invader’s armor.
Behind us, the dragon’s semi-visible aircraft whined as if powering up.
“Fifty-fifty chance,” Harold said.
The bus door opened.
Marcus staggered down the steps. He held up his hands. “This time, we save everyone!” he yelled and signed. “Let us do our jobs.” He leaned against the door. “Please,” he said. “Let us do our jobs.”
I don’t know if the dragon understood. I don’t think it did, and frankly, I don’t think it cared to. It clearly didn’t want to be here any more than we did. It had shared its grievance. And I was pretty sure it didn’t see us as people worth saving.
It reached into its pocket for its wand-like device.
“Oh no you do not!” Harold fired a warning shot just over its head. The gun had a good kick. He took it and held on even though it clearly affected him differently than it did Leif. “Damn,” he said.
A sonic boom rolled down the highway, and we all looked up. Two low-flying Air Force jets shrieked overhead.
The dragon backed away and vanished like a hellhound. Not completely, not when it moved, but enough that I had to concentrate not to lose track of it.
“It’s running for its ship!” I yelled.
Daniel pushed Marcus onto the bus. I followed and dropped into the driver’s seat.
Harold stepped on but didn’t come up the steps. He aimed at the ship.
“Get up here,” Daniel said. “Close the door. We need to leave. Now.”
The two jets roared back again as if they’d figured out a dragon was in the area.
I watched the jets. “Are they going to bomb us? Because it sure seems like the Air Force is about to bomb us.”
“The dragon will go south,” Daniel said. “Drive north.”
I started the bus. “What about Mrs. K?” She was outside, leaning against the side. Was I about to drive over her?
“Sharp left while rolling forward, then straighten out,” Harold said. “You won’t hit her.” He squeezed my shoulder as he pushed past Daniel and deeper into the bus.
The two jets roared over the road again. A loud boom followed.
Would they destroy the dragon’s craft? Maybe Daniel knew. I didn’t ask. I don’t think I cared any more than that dragon had cared about us.
What I did care about was still on the pavement, back there, next to the hellhound corpse—Mrs. K, and quite possibly Maria.
They were gone. Nax, too, and Leif, a man I might as well admit I had feelings for—a man whose league was so far above my pay grade he was literally from another dimension. I had zero chance there. He might as well be another species. He pretty much was anyway.
Gone, also, with my threatened family. My little brothers were both in harm’s way because I’d tried to help the oldsters at what used to be my job.
I pushed the bus faster and sped north back toward the city because a Fate told me that an alien dragon would fly south. We rocketed toward the airport, while air reinforcements waged war behind us.
The whole situation was ridiculous. It had been ridiculous from the beginning. Honestly, my entire existence had been ridiculous. My mother named me Philadelphia. How could I not have a ridiculous life? Then I had to go and drop out of college instead of figuring out how to make something of my ridiculousness. Yes, I was tired. But more than anything else, I think I’d always had some sense that someday I’d have to deal with all that ridiculousness publicly.
Was I really stupid enough to keep believing that I was somehow special? Because that was bullshit.
Or it wasn’t. Maybe the Dragonslayer had been whispering to me all my life. Maybe that damned spaceship had wanted me near Maria Romanova when the shit hit The Incursion fan. Maybe the engine of my life ran on high-octane ridiculous destiny.
Or fate. I glanced at the two-and-a-half Fates in the back of the bus, and the spouse who clearly wasn’t a simple spouse. Harold had a job. An important one. My gut said that he was Secret Service to the men who called themselves Daniel and Marcus.
Was that my job? Maybe I wasn’t a true player in all this. Maybe I was support staff.
That’s basically what Marko the Liar had said. I’d done my job. Now he did his.
Marko the Liar, the uber-Fate, the Judicial High Commander, a man I knew had another name that the Fates called him, one that they had not yet told me—that guy was supremely important to all this. And my alt-self had been hiding from him.
Another jet roared overhead.
Marcus slowly sat up. “The man you called Marko is the original Fate. We are his great-grandsons.” He rubbed his nose. “Part of me wonders if he chose that name just to irritate me.”
Daniel, who’d taken the seat behind, squeezed his brother’s shoulder. “His name is Janus,” he said. “The god of luck and doorways.”
“I never understood why he picked that name,” Marcus said. “Now I do.”
Doorways. Motherfucker, I thought. He called himself Marko to annoy the past-seer who was helping me, and Janus to annoy me.
Which was the most self-aggrandizing, self-important, arrogant, dumbass thing anyone anywhere ever thought. Why would I be even a blip on Marko-Janus’s radar?
Because I’d had his talisman. And I brought him a spaceship.
“Talismans,” I said. “Explain.”
“They filter our abilities through a conceptual prism,” Daniel said. “They basically narrow the search results.”
I supposed that would be important for someone who could see the future, especially with all the timey-wimey bullshit. “Do you see alt-Earths?”
Marcus looked more surprised than I thought he would, being a Fate. Daniel, too.
Harold grinned like a proud father. “I like her,” he said.
“We don’t understand the science,” Marcus said.
“Back when we were born, the Church ruled our part of the world and everyone thought the Earth was the center of the solar system,” Daniel said. “Our talisman’s focus is more day-to-day than the math, anyway.”
Harold arched his arm through the air. “They’re magic.”
Just like Stab. Just like that damned ship. The Fates with whom I was driving away from an alien dragon were living, breathing sufficiently-advanced tech.
“Why are you here?” I asked. “Why did you drive down this particular road? Were you looking for me?” If I was going to be arrogant about all this, I might as well ask the arrogant questions.
“I told you,” Daniel said. “Maria Romanova needs the ring.” He waved his hand as if to say explaining his future-seer understanding of all this was, like Leif, way above my pay grade.
“Are all Fates as insufferable as you?” I asked Daniel. He’d been condescending several times already. This was not the first. And Marko-Janus was a certifiable asshole.
Harold choked back a snort. Marcus smiled.
Daniel, still holding his stolen face perfectly still, opened his mouth to respond. He must have thought better of it, because he closed his mouth and leaned back against his seat.
“We know a nice Fate,” Harold said. “I hope you get to meet her someday.”
I had no idea who he was talking about, and at this point I didn’t care. I just wanted to take a nap. I wanted a hot meal and a shower and to wake up to a world that hadn’t been attacked by space dragons.
I just wanted the ridiculousness to stop.
“Give me Marcus’s phone,” Daniel said. “We need to send that video to…” He twisted his head as if using his seer. “The ring is interfering.”
Marcus stretched out his hand and signaled for me to give him back his phone. “You need to rest,” he said to Daniel. “If it’s being that much of a bother.”
I felt my cheeks tighten, and my neck cinch up. My hands gripped the steering wheel. My lip curled. My body was displaying clear signs that it was annoyed by the three men in the back of the bus.
No, not annoyance. Dislike. Maybe even hate.
Unlike Mrs. K, and even Nax, these three didn’t want to work with me. Not really. I was just another cog to them. Support staff.
I was back to being an aide.
Why did this bother me so much? Was I taking my own arrogance too seriously?
I quit, I thought.
“I want the ring.” I didn’t return his phone. I kept it in my pocket. “Now.” That magic ring was all I had left of my pre-apocalypse life. It was all I had that would let me help someone who would appreciate it.
Witch of the Midnight Blade Page 25
