Dragons Seduced

by Laura Wylde

  She made a face that looked very cute on her lovely features. “I’m related to Hyperion?”

  Orson jumped out of his chair and did a crazy dance around the room. “This is good! It’s good. It’s the only way we can lure Hyperion.”

  He stopped his dancing long enough to seize the back of Irene’s chair and chatter excitedly in her ear, “He won’t harm you. You carry the blood of Apollo.”

  “How do you know it’s Apollo?” I objected. “It could be Aphrodite for all we know.” I was still a little suspicious of her seductive nature.

  He was so excited he had the jitters. Either that or he had been eating sea urchins again. “No,” he said positively. “He called her Artemis. He loved the twins passionately. He thought she was Artemis, but what he recognized was Apollo’s blood.”

  I showed him the recent text messages from the Director. “Hyperion will have awakened the six brothers by now.”

  He looked away. “I know. There was nothing we could do about it. We can’t defeat him, but Irene can beat the brothers.” He paced around the room as though addressing a large audience. “They are very vicious and twisted deities. Their names are torment, agony, rancor, spite, malice and hatred. They can be killed but only by valiance. The valiance of Apollo’s children.”

  He was taking full advantage of his position as a dramatic speaker. He strode across the room and pulled up his chair, pushing it close so they were face to face. “This is where you come in,” he told him. “I need you to gather a few centaurs; the ones who are faithful to Apollo. We need their best archers to fight demigods.”

  Damian reared back uncomfortably and gave a short bark that could be taken for a laugh. He sneered. “Just like that, you want me to invite my centaur friends. Why would they join our little party now when we never invited them over before?”

  “We’ve got kick-ass housing. There must be something you can say to persuade them.”

  Damian drew his lips together and tapped his fingers on the table. “I think I can get a few. They were warriors once. Some of them still feel the warrior’s call.” He waved his hand at me. “You’ll have to remove all the horses from the stables, though. Centaurs are very sensitive about these things.”

  I had been rapidly recording the conversation into my laptop, complete with text comments. I added a note and tapped into AMP command. “No problem,” I said, looking up. “The horses will be gone by this evening.”

  Orson wasn’t finished with Damian yet. What he wanted to say next was not very pleasant and it showed all over his face. “There’s something else I need from you.”

  Damian returned the gaze warily. “Actually, Irene needs it,” Orson’s voice sounded like he was treading on glass. “She needs Apollo’s bow.” He said it very rapidly and ducked in case Damian exploded.

  Damian laughed. He stood up and looked at everyone at the table. “Ha!” He stalked to the kitchen, grabbed a beer from the refrigerator and returned. “Ha,” he said again, popping it open. He guzzled down half of it, then slammed it down. “News flash. I don’t give up the bow. It’s my inheritance. It’s been in the family for millennia.”

  “She needs it for protection. She can’t kill a demigod with ordinary weapons.”

  “If all you need is Apollo’s bow, then why do we need Irene? I know how to use it.”

  Orson shook his head. “It won’t work. It has to be a child of Apollo or it won’t work. You don’t have god blood, Damian, even if you think you do.”

  “Huh.” He finished the beer and smashed the can. “Can she kill Hyperion with it?”

  “She can’t kill him. Nobody can kill a god, but she can slow him down.”

  I completed my text messages to AMP, then rejoined the conversation. We were here to strategize, but there seemed to be some holes in the plan. “So, exactly what are we doing then besides killing off some demigods?”

  “Believe me, that’s a major human service right there.” He was loosening his shirt, sweating with his efforts to keep all of us in line with Triton’s plan; - a plan he had not bothered to discuss with me for one minute before announcing all these things we needed. “If they aren’t stopped, they’ll slaughter everyone on the island or have them slaughtering each other.”

  A large puff of smoke escaped from my mouth. Okay. I got it. Our first job was to kill the six brothers and prevent total mayhem. Now that we had a direction, we were ready to move forward. Damian left soon after we broke up our meeting. While he was gone, I supervised the two hired hands removing the horses from the stable. They were a little amazed when I instructed them there wasn’t to be a sign of horse poo anywhere close to the stalls, that the stalls themselves should have blankets and pillows as well as fresh hay, and that there should be two kegs of beer, but they complied.

  In the evening, Damian came back with four centaurs. They clattered inside the house, inspected the kitchen, and wiped out the steaks and hash browns in one sitting. When they had finished, they sat down to watch the telly with us. It was awkward to have four big horse bodies with muscle man torsos sprawled all over the living room floor, and it made it difficult to play around with Irene, but we needed them. Somehow, we’d find a way of putting up with them until it was all over. At least they didn’t poo in the house.

  They loved the showers. The showers were very large, with three spigots in the mammoth stall facing three different directions. They spent nearly as much time in the showers as Orson did in the pool. Irene was fascinated with them. She liked to stroke their backs and brush their tails. They responded a little too fondly. We had to remind them more than once to back off. We weren’t going to let some overdeveloped horses move in on our territory.

  The day we prepared to face our enemy forces Orson told us the second part of the plan. He gave Irene Apollo’s bow and a tape recorder. She prepared to climb on Heath’s back, but he told her, no. “Today, you are an archer. You are the daughter of Apollo. You ride a centaur.”

  He rallied the group together. He beckoned me closer to tell me the next part of the unfolding plan he never discussed with me. “We need to lure the brothers as close to the cave entrance as possible. While we are fighting them, we will be providing a distraction for Irene. If the four sisters hear her music, they will come to her. That’s where the tape recorder comes in. I recorded her playing the piano.”

  We were huddled together like football players before a game. Orson nodded at Irene. “You must hold out a leather pouch and the stone carvings will jump into it, believing Apollo has come for them. If you catch the four sisters, you must ride as fast as you can to the coast. Triton will be waiting for you.”

  “And then what?” She asked breathlessly.

  “We lead Hyperion into a trap.”

  I buttonholed him just before we took off. “Don’t you think you could let me in on some of this? I’m the one that organizes our attacks!”

  The blue tint to his scales turned violet and he slashed his tail with annoyance. “The walls have ears.”

  I did my dragon change so I could liberally breathe fire without needing lip gloss. A row of flames shot out with smooth satisfaction. “Are you saying we have a spy?”

  “It’s what Triton wanted. I was to tell nobody about the four sisters until the last minute. It’s safer that way.”

  “For whom?” I was screaming at empty air. Orson flew off, leading the charge. I swooped close to his shoulder, hammering at him persistently. “Who is it safer for? Since when wasn’t it safe for the whole team to discuss a plan before taking off with it? Orson! Orson! What more did Triton tell you? I need to know!”

  It didn’t do any good. Not to be disrespectful, but this is the real reason why it’s so bad to mix with royalty. It’s not about them. It’s the way they rub off on you. Orson was always a pretty regular chap, even though he is a water dragon and the rest of us are land dragons. In ways, the underwater world really is a superior society. The technology isn’t any better. They don’t even have cell phones. How
ever, they never had the terrible wars that racked the earth, destroying entire cities and they don’t have the prejudices humans have toward mythological creatures. They don’t have to appear human among humans, and frankly, some creatures can’t. On land, they were hunted to the brink of extinction, but the water creatures were left alone – for the most part.

  Orson was an aristocrat. He had full rights to appearances in the royal court but was generally snubbed for choosing a land life. He never said why, but I think it’s because he really does like humans. He’s devoted to them, protective of them, which is why his sudden loyalty to Triton was so suspicious.

  “For everyone!” He roared back suddenly. The colors of his scales churned like white caps on the ocean. “He can enter your sleep and find your secrets while you dream. We couldn’t afford that!”

  “What about your dreams?”

  “I slept under water.”

  It was true. Since his return, he had spent every night in the ocean’s surf. All this time, I thought his trip to the royal palace had made him homesick. He was protecting his dreams. The landscape was changing. The flat, desert-like terrain was growing bumpier, greener. A patchwork of neatly plowed fields spread out below us. “What else are you holding back?” I asked him.

  He spread his wings, reaching for more height, more speed. “There is another gate to Tartarus inside the royal city. Hyperion doesn’t know about it. He’ll follow Triton but he won’t have as much power underwater. Once they reach the gate, Triton will push him through.”

  We were drawing closer to Heraklion and the first scattering of resorts and small settlements. Far behind us, the centaurs were clattering over the rocky landscape, their bows already drawn and ready to spring. I could barely see Irene riding the back of the lead archer, but with Apollo’s bow, she really did remind me of the goddess of the hunt.

  “Just like that, huh?” I grunted.

  “Just like that. Hyperion won’t suspect a thing. He doesn’t know about the underwater gate. I kept the secret locked tight. Nobody knows about the gate except Poseidon’s royal family. Do you understand why I held back?”

  I didn’t answer. When you start dealing with gods, you have to do things their way or not at all. Triton had laid down the guidelines. If we wanted his help, we would have to trust him.

  The landscape unrolling below us appeared normal until we approached a village near the base of White Mountain. It was too quiet. Not one farmer was out in the fields. Not one hawker setting up a stall. The barnyard animals were wandering the streets freely. I signaled to the rest that we should move in. We landed behind a rock cropping a short distance from the village and assessed the situation.

  I didn’t like this at all. I have an acute sense of smell and can identify the pungent scent of blood five hundred yards away. I can also tell if it’s animal or human. It was human and there was a lot of it. I saw Heath’s nostrils flare and his eyes roll and I knew he could smell it to. Earth dragons are extremely sensitive to biological changes. They can even distinguish between the blood of women and the blood of men through faint hormonal traces. “How many?” I asked, letting the fire rumble in my belly as it collected fuel.

  “Between one-hundred-fifty to two hundred,” he answered. He had folded his mighty wings at half-mast, almost dragging them on the ground. He grumbled deeply enough to cause a small rockslide.

  “Easy, big boy,” said Damian, coming up behind him. He was bristling with steel weapons. “The fight isn’t with the dead. Let’s take a look at what we’ve got.”

  I barely remember the last time I saw such a massacre. This was done by neither human nor monster. There were absolutely no survivors. The victims had been tortured with hooks and chains. Their flesh had been flayed. In their final agony, they had been ripped into pieces. The horror of their torments still showed in their ghastly, upturned eyes and twisted faces.

  It was hard to speak. I could only choke out the words between puffs of smoke. “The brothers. They did this! Divert the centaurs. Irene doesn’t need to see this.”

  For once, nobody was inclined to argue. We circled back to where the centaurs were thundering toward the base of the mountains. I coughed out a fireball to get their attention. “Around to this side! We’ve searched the west side. They were there but they aren’t anymore. I think they are headed for Zeus’ Cave.”

  It made sense. The cave was the birthplace for Zeus. It still contained a shrine and loyal followers. It would be a target. If we were quick, we could catch them and prevent further destruction.

  What happened in the village filled me with a sense of obsessive urgency. Fire dragons are extremely fast, propelled by their volatile nature. The only dragon that can keep up with me when I’m in a hurry is the stream-lined water dragon, and he was not doing this very well. “Barnaby, what can you do if you go in solo? You’re leaving the others too far behind.”

  “Save at least one human from torture,” I shot back grimly.

  For once, I didn’t care that Orson was the navigator. For once, I didn’t care about the proper order of things. Very faintly in the distance, I could hear the screams of the tourists who had innocently come to visit a famous historical site. Most weren’t Zeus followers at all, just curious about the relics, and their curiosity was killing them.

  I let my fury drive me. Orson dropped back to guide the others in, but I stubbornly blazed forward, searching for my enemies. I found them. They were the most hideous demigods I had ever seen. They were over eight feet tall, with mottled, reptilian skin and a bony ridge that started at the top of the head and ended between the shoulder bones. Their faces were humanoid, with asymmetrical features, cruel eyes, protruding chins and serrated teeth. Their legs were muscular, with inverted knees and large, splayed feet.

  They had taken a group of tourists and sewn them together in a circle. They were still alive, but their mouths had been sewn closed. Their eyes had been stapled wide open so they could witness what was being done to them.

  From thirty feet in the air, I watched with horror as the monstrosities stripped the upper garments from their sewn together groups and pierced their breasts with sharp, metal rings. The rings were attached to a heavy metal chain that looped from one to another, like the festive crepe draping for a celebration. The chain was heavy enough to make the tender flesh around the nipples tear and bleed. They were abominable. They giggled and jumped back excitedly to view their handiwork, jacking off while skipping from foot to foot. It was then that I zeroed in.

  Folding my wings, I sped like a bomber, a long, blue-white flaring hurtling from my iron guts. I turned up the fire in my barbecue pit, giving them a full dose of two thousand degree Celsius. The demi-gods were in solid form. It hurt them. They shrieked. They jumped back, staring with astonishment at their sizzling wounds.

  I hurt them but didn’t cripple them. I didn’t even come close. They chanted a few words at each other. Within seconds, the burns began to heal. While they were still chanting, one of the brothers looked up and waved his arm in my direction. A force that felt like a locomotive had hit me, slammed me back so far, I was looking out over the ocean. Miles away, the two fronts were meeting and all I had done was give them a bad hair day. I gave myself a few minutes rest before starting back. This fight had just begun.

  Damian

  I watched Barnaby and Orson take flight ahead of me. It was their usual power struggle. Both had this idea that they were the leaders – Orson because he was an intellectual and the navigator – Barnaby because he worked directly with AMP. They were both a pain in the neck.

  I didn’t mind hanging back with Heath. Heath is a solid guy. Give him a chore to do and he was happy to do it, especially if it required muscle. Besides, the centaurs couldn’t keep up and they were the cavalry. Also, they are my friends.

  Centaurs are cool. They are a noble breed that will fight to the death for a cause, but they’ve got to believe in it first. Most of them didn’t believe me when I told them about Irene. The o
nes who volunteered only did so because they knew me. They knew I wouldn’t ask for help unless I was serious.

  The one drawback about centaurs is their attractiveness to women. I deal with it. I get it. Women love horses. They love unicorns. Why wouldn’t they love men with horse bodies? I was tolerant because I understand this fascination. I’ve seen it over and over. It’s about the size and the power turned docile under the hand of a woman. It’s her triumph over the beast. Even the minotaur crumbles under a beautiful woman’s hand.

  My mates were jealous and complained a lot about the relationship between Irene and the centaurs, but I wasn’t worried because I kept a careful watch. The archers were respectful. They didn’t make any overtures at Irene and she didn’t at them. She just like grooming them. Over the next two days as we prepared to go into battle, I saw in their eyes that they believed in Irene, the huntress.

  So did I. It was the hardest thing in the world to give her the bow of Apollo. It took an entire leap of faith. Yet, when I passed it to her, I felt a strange energy as soon as her hands touched it. The bow was alive! It was a part of her. Maybe she’s only four percent goddess but it was enough to awaken Apollo’s spirit.

  Orson had circled back. He did a swift overhead turn, surveilling the progress of the archers, before joining me and calling over his shoulder as he zoomed past, “Let Heath bring up the rear. Barnaby dashed on ahead. He’s already at Zeus’ cave. He’s by himself. He could be in trouble.”

  Of course he could be in trouble. The stupid shit. The one time he doesn’t follow protocol, he’s up to his neck in murdering demigods. I groused about it, but I followed him. At least our company wasn’t very far behind. We flew into the scene just as we saw Barnaby being hurtled out to the clear blue sea backwards. These were some wicked demigods.

  “How forceful can you get with water?” I asked.

  Orson made a face. “I can drill a hole into a concrete wall, but I like it better when I’m working with Barnaby. The whole boiling water thing, you know.”