One Good Dragon Deserves Another

by Rachel Aaron

  “No!” Vann Jeger roared, grabbing at the ghosts, but his hands passed right through them. When it was clear he couldn’t stop them, the spirit turned to the only figure that was solid. “You shall not have them!” he thundered, lobbing his massive ax straight at the soldier’s head. “They are my offerings! My treasures!”

  The Empty Wind caught the tossed ax with one hand, and Julius gasped, waiting for the weapon to turn to water vapor like all the others. But this time was different. This time, the ax stayed, its blade cracking where the Empty Wind’s gloved hand pressed down.

  “Nothing is yours,” the soldier said, dropping the broken ax into the pile of ancient weapons the ghosts were building at his feet. “These are human weapons forged for human hands. You are merely the low they sank to when the funeral boats stopped burning. But human treasures do not belong to the land. Those warriors whose names are dust and whose songs are long forgotten, they remember what was once theirs, and I will not rest until I have seen them reclaim what you have stolen.”

  With every word the Empty Wind spoke, more ghosts appeared. Ancient ones this time, men and women in furs and armor who ran through the rapidly rising water without leaving a ripple to plunge their hands into Vann Jeger. Each one yanked out a single weapon and vanished, but there was always another to take their place. And as the ghosts came and came and came, Vann Jeger began to look truly afraid.

  “NO!” he screamed, his voice breaking like the waves around him as he whipped the water into a storm. “I’ll drown you all before you take what is mine!”

  There was more, countless curses and threats, but nothing Vann Jeger said or did could touch the dead. They just kept coming, passing effortlessly through the surging water to plunge their hands into the fjord spirit one after another, taking their weapons back under the Empty Wind’s glowing gaze. But while Julius could have happily watched Vann Jeger get cut down to size forever, they had bigger problems.

  The waves Vann Jeger had summoned in his effort to crush the swarming ghosts were now tall enough to wash over Julius’s head. The water was still rising, too, the new waves picking up momentum from rushing currents that formed the prison’s walls until the whole circle resembled a giant whirlpool. Already exhausted, Julius didn’t even try to fight the current. He was just focusing on keeping his head above water when Chelsie swam to his side.

  “We have to get out of here,” she yelled over the waves. “This place is filling up.”

  “Get out how?” he yelled back, jerking his head at the swirling wall of water. “We’re still trapped in here!” He swam closer to her, grabbing her shoulders to keep them together in the maelstrom. “Let’s just hold on a moment. I think Marci’s plan is working!”

  Chelsie shoved her sopping black hair out of her face. “Why in the world would you think that?”

  He pointed down at the glimmering ghosts under the surface. “Because that’s her spirit.”

  Chelsie’s eyes went so wide Julius could see the green of her iris all the way around, but he didn’t have time to explain. He still wasn’t sure of the details himself, but as he’d been fighting to keep his head above water, he’d finally remembered where he’d heard the Empty Wind’s voice before.

  “Boost me up,” he said, climbing onto his sister’s shoulders. “I need to check something.”

  Chelsie grabbed his legs so hard they nearly snapped. “Check what?”

  It was simpler to show her than answer, so Julius just stood up, trusting his sister to keep them above the waves as he scanned the surging water for the one human who wasn’t transparent.

  “There!” he shouted. “Look!”

  Vann Jeger’s walls must not have been as good at keeping things out as they were at keeping them in, because Marci was now swimming toward them across the current. After all his running earlier, Julius was too tired to meet her half-way, but he put his arms out when she got near, yanking her into the relative safety of the lee he and Chelsie had created. “What’s happening?”

  “No time to explain,” she yelled back. “Just stick to the plan!”

  “Plan?” Julius thrust his hand into the water where hordes of ghosts were swarming over Vann Jeger like ants. “Summoning armies of the undead was not the plan! We need to get out of here!”

  “Do you want to save Justin or not?” she said, pulling a marker out her hair, where she’d stuck it to keep it dry. “You have to trust me on this. I just need a little more time and a dry surface to write on.”

  “Good luck finding that,” Chelsie said. “I’m with Julius. We should go.”

  “No!” Marci cried, her voice pleading. “We’re about to win this whole thing. Look.”

  She pointed down through the icy water, and both dragons turned to see a very different scene than the one they’d witnessed barely a minute ago.

  Beneath the surging whirlpool, the once unconquerable Vann Jeger was on his knees. His massive body, now half its former size, was ringed with more ghostly figures than ever. Likewise, the pile of reclaimed treasures at the Empty Wind’s feet was now higher than the waves, and with every weapon Vann Jeger lost, the swirling water got lower.

  “See?” Marci said as she turned and started swimming for the emerging island of weapons. “What did I tell you? We’ve got this in the bag.”

  “You’re right,” Julius said, though he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. The horror movie scene below was very different from the victory he’d envisioned. But victory was victory, he supposed, and if Marci said she had things under control, then he believed her. It was certainly better than the alternative.

  “What can we do to help?” he asked, swimming after her.

  “I need your disguise,” she said, hauling herself up onto the shifting pile of swords, axes, and other things the ghosts had pulled out of Vann Jeger. “You’re not using it anymore, and I’m going to need all the power I can get.”

  “Gladly,” he said, climbing up beside her. “But why? Vann Jeger’s almost done for.”

  “It’s not Vann Jeger I’m worried about,” Marci said grimly as she dropped to her knees, digging through the pile of priceless magical artifacts until she found a large leather Viking shield that her casting marker would write on. “I’d pull magic out of these, but I still haven’t figured out how to get magic out of enchanted weapons, and I don’t think it would be a popular move right now.”

  Julius didn’t need her pointed glance at the ghosts to understand that last part. Even if the ghosts had no intention of using them again, sucking magic out of the weapons they’d just reclaimed from Vann Jeger would most definitely not go over well. “Here,” he said, offering her his hand. “All yours.”

  She grabbed his fingers tight, and Julius sighed in relief as the heavy coating of magic Amelia had painted over him drained away. But while he was feeling immeasurably better, Marci looked grimmer than ever.

  “It’s not enough,” she said, scowling down at the spellwork she was writing on the shield. “I need more.”

  He shoved his hand at her again. “Then take more.”

  “No way!” she cried, smacking it away. “I just pulled off you this morning.”

  “I’m not giving up when we’re this close,” Julius said, sticking his hand out again. “Just—”

  He cut off with a yelp as Chelsie grabbed his wrist. “You’ve given too much already,” she growled as she forced his arm back. “You don’t even have that much to give.” She turned to Marci, putting out her own hand where Julius’s had been. “Use me.”

  Marci looked uncomfortable. “Uh, are you sure? Not that I’m complaining, but—”

  Chelsie cut her off with a stern look. “I don’t know what dark pact you struck with whatever-it-is down there to pull this off, but you’ve made more progress against Vann Jeger in the last five minutes than we’ve made all night. That’s proof enough for me.” She grabbed Marci’s hand. “Just do it.”

  Marci shot Julius a terrified look, but he just shrugged. If Chelsie w
anted to help, who was he to stop her?

  “Okay,” she said, turning to face his sister. “This might feel a little strange.”

  Having been Marci’s battery before, Julius could feel the moment she started pulling. Chelsie, being Chelsie, didn’t even wince. She knelt there still as a statue as the mage took and took and took. By the time Marci finally let go, she was glowing even brighter than the time she’d nearly sucked Julius dry, and her expression was one of wonder.

  “Wow,” she whispered, eyes round. “That was amazing. And here I thought Julius was high grade, but that—”

  “Is it enough?” Chelsie interrupted, her face pale and strained.

  Marci jumped and looked down again, reprimanded back into seriousness. “It’ll have to be,” she said, writing the final lines of spellwork onto the shield. “We’re almost out of water.”

  She was right. In the time it had taken her to drain Chelsie, the water—both the rising tide and the walls that had penned them in—had drained away almost completely, and so had Vann Jeger. The once giant spirit was now little taller than Julius. He collapsed as they watched, falling to his knees as the last of the ghosts finally retreated, leaving only the Empty Wind.

  Blue eyes gleaming, the ghostly soldier stepped forward to face his defeated foe. He bent down as he walked, picking up the ax he’d caught earlier out of the pile. He was raising the cracked blade to take Vann Jeger’s head when Marci ordered, “Stop.”

  The word was full of magic, and the Empty Wind froze.

  “I told you to bring him to his knees,” Marci said, clutching the round shield she’d covered with her spellwork. “He’s there. Mission accomplished.”

  The Empty Wind looked over his shoulder, and Julius flinched as the glowing blue eyes floating in the empty helmet slid over them. “He has stolen from us,” the spirit growled. “He must pay.”

  “And he will,” Marci said, standing up. “But I think being at the mercy of dragons is the worst punishment Vann Jeger could receive.”

  The soldier’s glowing eyes narrowed. “Then you do not know mine.”

  “And I’m not going to,” she said stubbornly, holding out her hand. “Your part in this is done, Ghost. You’re still my spirit, and I say it’s time to come home.”

  Julius cringed down into the wet weapons. He’d guessed the truth already, but hearing Marci say the spirit’s name somehow made it all real. But though she’d clearly given her order, the Empty Wind just tilted his head.

  “And what if I say you’re my human?”

  Marci’s scowl turned dangerous, but the Empty Wind didn’t seem to care. “Do you know how many dead this city has forgotten?” he asked, looking across the once again open field toward the glowing wall of the skyways on the horizon. “They call to me, begging for justice. What would you have me tell them? That my master was too busy working for dragons to hear their voices? That she would rather stay a servant than embrace what we could become?”

  He turned back to Marci and held out his gloved hand, which was no longer transparent, but real as Julius’s. “We are bonded, you and I,” he said. “I am more like you than those cold blooded snakes could ever be. Leave them to their fate and come with me, and we shall do great things together.”

  Fear began to curl in Julius’s stomach, but when he saw Marci’s stubborn expression, he didn’t know why he worried. “We will do great things,” she said, lifting her chin haughtily. “But you above all others should know by now that I am no one’s servant.”

  She reached down as she finished, slamming her hand against the spellwork she’d scribbled along the circular shield’s edge, and the magic crashed down on them like a hammer. It shut down the freezing wind, dispersing the last of the ghosts and knocking what was left of Vann Jeger into the dirt. Even the Empty Wind, who’d been pretty much untouchable this entire time, stumbled under its weight, and when he got his head up again, his blue eyes were blazing with anger. “What are you doing?”

  “What I did before,” Marci said, her voice humming with power. “I’m binding you.” She turned the shield to show him the markings she’d drawn on its surface. “Did you know that spellwork written anywhere inside a larger circle applies to the whole? Once you said your name, it was a simple trick to change the ritual’s target from Vann Jeger to you.”

  The Empty Wind’s blue eyes went wide in the empty dark of his helmet. “Why?’

  “Because I was warned it would come to this,” she said sadly. “I knew that you would try to take control the moment you had the upper hand. For the record, I don’t fault you for that. You’ve got your dreams just like I’ve got mine. But just because I understand doesn’t mean I’m going to let you do it.”

  Julius couldn’t believe she was just telling him that. But though he fully expected the Empty Wind to go ballistic over Marci’s confession, the spirit did nothing of the sort. Just the opposite, he actually sounded impressed. “You planned this from the beginning, didn’t you?”

  “Of course.” Marci said, lifting her head high. “Who do you think I am? A good mage always has a backup, and speaking of.” She flexed her fingers, and the magic pushing down on the field doubled, sending the Empty Wind to his knees.

  “Now that I’ve got your attention,” she said. “Here are my terms.” She tapped the shield in her hands. “I haven’t completed my spellwork yet, but I’ve got enough grade-A dragon magic here to do pretty much whatever I want. With one line, I can finish the spell that will rebind you as my servant. With another, I can banish you so hard you won’t reform for another sixty years. Your choice.”

  “You would banish me?” Ghost cried, incredulous. “Give up all this power?”

  “Power someone else gives you isn’t power at all,” Marci replied stubbornly. “And you should know I’m not bluffing.”

  “I never doubted it,” the spirit said, scowling. “But what would you gain by binding me again? We’re already linked as deeply as can be.”

  “We are,” Marci agreed. “But this is for me, not you. I had no idea what I was doing the first time I bound you. This time, I know exactly what’s at stake, and I’ve made a lot of improvements.” She pointed at the spellwork on the shield. “You’d still be my spirit and subject to my orders, but you’ll keep your name and free will, and I’ve also added in a clause that binds me to help you with your work as much as I can, no more questions asked.”

  Julius had no idea what that meant, but the Empty Wind looked extremely touched. “You’ll help?”

  “Of course I’ll help,” Marci said, exasperated. “Just because I’m taking precautions so I don’t end up your slave doesn’t mean I don’t respect your mission. Your work is important—even the dead need a champion—but I am not going to be your pet mage. I’ve done my best to be fair to both of us here. If that’s agreeable to you, then stop wasting time and come back, but if you want to keep being a menace, I won’t hesitate to do what I have to do.”

  The spirit stared at Marci for a long time after that. Then, at last, he lowered his head. “I knew it,” he said as the last of the icy wind died down. “Even when I knew nothing, I knew I chose right in you.”

  Marci grinned. “So you’ll take the binding?”

  The Empty Wind nodded. “There is no shame in being bound to a worthy master, and Mortal Spirits, like mortals themselves, were never meant to be alone.”

  “Then come home,” she said, adding one final stroke to the spellwork on the shield before holding out her hand. The circle on the shield in her hand flared at the same time, and the enormous weight of magic vanished, melting away like snow in the sun. When it was gone, the soldier with the glowing eyes was gone, too, and Ghost was sitting in the crook of Marci’s arm, his fluffy white body curled contentedly against her chest.

  “Really?” she said, arching an eyebrow. “All that and you couldn’t even keep the badass haunted Roman Legion look?”

  The cat gave her a nonchalant look, opening his mouth in a silent meow that made Ma
rci roll her eyes.

  “What did he say?” Julius asked.

  Marci tossed the spellwork-covered shield back on the pile. “He claims it’s less work to be a cat. He’s also complaining that he’s tired. Oh, and we’re not to touch any of the weapons.”

  “Pity,” Chelsie said, her voice strained. “They’d make fine trophies.”

  Julius glanced at his sister, suddenly worried. He’d never heard her sound so exhausted, but there was no weakness in Chelsie’s movements as she hopped to the ground. “Julius?”

  He slid down the massive pile of weaponry to stand beside her. “Yes?”

  She turned to Vann Jeger. “It’s time to finish what you started.”

  Julius’s stomach sank. Even now that Marci’s magic was gone, Vann Jeger was still doubled over, his head pressed down into the once again dry field. It was a truly pathetic sight, and it filled Julius with unexpected hesitation, especially since he’d been daydreaming about burning Vann Jeger to a crisp not ten minutes ago. But his sudden attack of sympathy dried up as fast as it had started when the hunter lifted his head to shoot them a look of pure hate.

  “Get on with it,” he whispered, his breaking ice voice now little more than a crack. “Send me home, it makes no difference. I will always rise again, and when I do, I will hunt you all to the ends of the Earth for what you’ve done tonight.”

  “What we’ve done?” Julius cried, stomping over. “We were minding our own business. This whole thing was your fault!”

  “You know nothing,” Vann Jeger growled, his black eyes moving to Marci, who was still making her way down the weapon pile. “Your human brought death himself back into this world. Do you have any idea how many will suffer because of this? But you snakes don’t care about preserving. You only know how to destroy. But the last laugh shall be ours.” His pinched face split into a grin. “The Lady has already repaired the damage from your idiot brother’s rampage. The Reclamation Project marches on. With or without me, it’s just a matter of time.”

  Chelsie’s expression darkened. Julius didn’t like the sound of this “Reclamation Project” either, but he knew better than to ask. The only reason a beaten enemy dropped hints like that was when he was laying bait. For all they knew, Algonquin was already on her way.