by Aaron Crash
Steven’s Escort and both his vassals, Bud and Liam, were at the picnic area off the highway, close enough that they could come flying in if Cassius Pine attacked him. However, Liam’s spells showed no one approaching them except for a single Dragonsoul. That would be Cassius Pine, coming in alone, as agreed.
Mouse had insisted that she join Steven, but the deal was a private conversation between the two Primes. Steven wasn’t sure if this was a duel or not, but fighting a single enemy would be a nice change of pace.
Aria assured them all that this was normal. When a Dragonsoul ascended to power, Primes from surrounding regions would often ask for a meeting to discuss terms and to feel out the newcomer. Funny, but Lawrence Candler from the Farmlands Primacy to the east hadn’t made a peep. But Liam said that Candler was a fat, old Prime who’d been in power there for a hundred years.
Steven had brought clothes, since that was also part of the deal. Cassius wanted to talk as humans. Steven put on his jeans and slipped on a short-sleeved button-down. He then waited.
From out of the sky landed a mustard-colored dragon that smelled like lilac mixed with sulfur. A long yellow beard, darkening to black, dropped from his chin. Cassius Pine, in the flesh. Or scales, rather. He was on another rampart of rock in the jumble of boulders. He changed into a human and stood there, naked. His hair was blond, long, and reached down his back. He was muscled, bigger and taller than Steven.
The two gazed at one another, Steven on his rock, Cassius on his. There was about twenty feet separating them. A shit-eating grin covered the blond man’s handsome face. He exuded vanity, arrogance, and humor.
But Steven wasn’t about to start laughing. “What do you want?” he asked. The air was clear, and his voice carried. The ever-present Wyoming wind had taken a short break, so there was no need to shout.
Cassius shrugged. It was obvious he didn’t care he was naked. “I want to talk. You killed Mulk. You’re my new neighbor. I came to say howdy.”
“Why don’t we just fight and get it over with?” Steven asked.
Cassius cocked his head. “That’s also what I came here to talk about. I know you have Mouse in your Escort. In her more sober moments, I’m sure she’s told you that I killed her parents. Obviously, she wants revenge. Kind of scares me since revenge is something you seem to be very good at.”
That almost made Steven chuckle. But he kept a straight face. “Yeah, revenge and I have become real pals. And so you know, Mouse has changed. She doesn’t drink anymore. I still don’t see why I shouldn’t hit you with everything I’ve got right now. Just end it. It’s bound to happen, anyway. There’s no way you’ll ever trust me, and I certainly won’t trust you.”
“Trust? No. Dragonsouls can’t trust much in this life and on this world. For example, I’m kicking back in my Aerie yesterday, with my bitches, and who comes flying down out of the sky? Give you three guesses, and the first two don’t count.”
Steven thought for a long time. There was only one real answer. “Well, I killed Jaxon Wenck yesterday. So it wasn’t him. There’s only one more name on my list. I’m assuming it’s the same dragon.”
“Better get out your eraser, Steven. Or better yet, tear up your list. Because there is no way on Earth you’ll ever be able to kill Rahaab. He brought me and my Escort to our knees in seconds. Seconds, you hear? Up until yesterday, I thought Rahaab was a myth—some old ghost story Dragonsouls tell their Escort when they tuck them in at night.” Cassius paused. “Funny thing, if I didn’t know better, I would swear that Rahaab is afraid of you. Now, how could that be?”
“You know the answer to that question,” Steven shot back. “Get to the point, or I’m out of here.”
Cassius nodded, chewing on his bottom lip. “All business with you. Glad I didn’t invite you over for dinner. That would’ve been a long fucking night. Okay, Mr. Business, Rahaab wanted me to get friendly with you. He wants to lure you in, make sure you are comfortable, and then cut your throat. You got that magic Drokharis blood in you, and it’s freaking his shit out.”
“Why tell me?” Steven asked. He honestly didn’t know. Nothing about the strange conversation was going like he’d thought it would. Why would Rahaab not fly in with an armada like Mulk had done? Maybe the answer was simple: Mulk and his dragons hadn’t flown out.
Cassius glanced around and inhaled. The scent of the evening pines perfumed the air. The few clouds in the sky were golden where they weren’t singed red. “It’s beautiful in the mountains, isn’t it?”
Steven didn’t respond.
The blond man went on, rambling. “I have to admit, when I was looking for a Primacy of my own, I didn’t much care where I went or what I had to do to get it. I might as well have wound up ruling the French Swamplands or the Sonoran Desert or the Deseret Primacy for that matter. I always liked Seattle, and so I thought about giving Liang Po a run for his money. Maybe try and take over the PNW—that’s the Pacific Northwest Primacy. And then you have the Northern California Primacy and the Southern, but those guys have been at each other’s throats since the great San Francisco earthquake. I wanted to stay in the west, you see, because I love the American West. My daddy was a drifter Ronin, working for whoever needed help. You get the West inside you, and there’s no getting it out.”
“I know the basic geography,” Steven said. “And it’s obvious you like to hear yourself talk.”
“I do,” Cassius admitted. “I really do. My point is, I love the Rocky Mountains, and I love my Primacy. I don’t want to lose it, and I don’t want some outsider, some foreigner like Rahaab, thinking he can call the shots in our territories. So instead of following orders like a good little soldier, I figured I’d tell you the whole deal. Then you and I can figure out what we want to do.”
“And I think everything you’ve said is complete bullshit,” Steven said with a smile. “You said trust among Dragonsouls is hard to come by. Why should I trust you?”
Cassius lost his own smile and crossed his arms. “The reality is this, Mr. Business. You’re young, too young to keep your Primacy for long. Yeah, you’ve done amazing things, but it’s only a matter of time before you find a fight you can’t win. I want to keep my Primacy, and I want you to keep yours, and for that to happen, we have to make a deal. Maybe the time for butchering each other has come to an end. Maybe we can break with the past. I hear you’ve had visions of bringing on some kind of revolution. That might be gossip, or it might be true. Either way, I say we join forces.”
Steven shook his head. “That’s not just complete bullshit. That’s complete and utter bullshit. My answer? No.”
“As it should be.” Cassius dropped his arms.
A crow cawed from a tree and the sound bounced off the jumble of stones on the ridge. It then fluttered away as more crows joined it.
Steven waited for a second and then said, “So you’ve wasted both our time. I don’t see the point of that either.”
“Maybe. But Steven, what if I offered you a deal? What if instead of going for me, trying to get the revenge that Mouse so dearly wants, I offer you Rahaab instead. I get to keep on living in the mountains, as your peaceful neighbor, and you get your shot at Rahaab, in his Aerie, where he keeps all his books.”
For the first time, Steven thought that Cassius might be telling the truth. “What kind of books?”
“Spell books,” Cassius said. “Rahaab told me he has the third volume of your daddy’s grimoire. Quite the page-turner, or so the old guy said. As an act of good faith, I’m going to tell you where it is.”
“Will he be there?” Steven asked.
“Can’t say for sure, but he might. And you, creeping in with your bitches—”
Steven cut him off. “Don’t call my Escort that again, or I will bring hell down upon you. You might treat your women like shit, but I don’t.”
“Okay, cowboy.” Cassius held out his hands. “Sorry, but we all do things our own way. Fine. You take your wonderful women ... and Mouse ... ha ... and you go
there. If you’re lucky, you find Rahaab sleeping, because that is the only way you’ll defeat him. I’ve heard stories that those old-timey dragons can’t be killed by normal weapons, not even by Exhalants. Hell, not by any magic we know of. Only some special super-secret skill can end those old-timers. I don’t know about all that, but you might as well try, right?”
“I get the book, I kill Rahaab, and then I leave you alone?” Steven asked.
“Bingo, Mr. Business. If you live. If you don’t? Well, you become one less thing I have to worry about.”
“I can’t make that deal,” Steven said.
“That’s a shame.” He paused, rubbing at his chin. “Okay, how about this? How about you get the book back, and then you and I chat again. We’ll keep in contact through Liam Strider, since I know you’re still flying under the radar. Call this an act of good faith. We don’t have to shake on it now. We don’t have to agree. Get that book and have the Yellow Ronin call me. And then you’ll know I’m serious about us changing things.”
Cassius shifted back into a long mustard-colored dragon. “There’s a monastery, an old abbey, on the coast of France. I bet you’ve seen pictures of it. It’s called Mont-Saint-Michel. It’s a castle-church thing, Catholic or some shit. I don’t know. But I do know that’s where Rahaab’s library is, protected by magic, thick walls, and ocean tides for centuries. That’s where your daddy’s book is. Good luck finding it.”
Cassius leapt off the rocks and flew into the sunset, back toward the real mountains dominating the North American continent.
Steven didn’t fly off right away. Wyoming remembered its wind, and it blew across Steven’s black hair. He sat down, crossed his legs, and put his hands in his lap, one palm on the other, his thumbs almost touching. He took in a deep breath through his nose and let it out through his mouth. It was the mediation pose to perfect the use of Animus, but Steven had also learned to use it to calm his mind.
It took a minute to slow his racing thoughts. Then he went back through his conversation with Cassius. For the first time, Steven wasn’t being underestimated. Cassius hadn’t flung himself into battle. And neither was Rahaab coming, threatening his family, or appearing out of the sky like he’d done to Cassius.
No, both were playing it safe. Steven liked that. A lot. The world had learned he was a force not easily undone. It would keep his Escort and their families safe. Funny, he threw Bud in that category of family. He also thought of Liam Strider, and yes, the Yellow Ronin also needed protection now that he was one of Steven’s vassals.
The rhyme from the second volume came back to Steven:
The friends of old
The comrades of new
Two lost pages of ancient lore
Forgotten in the fires to be read no more
One to be found in a mind lost to time
One to be found in a heart without rhyme
“The mind lost to time” had been Mathaal. And “the heart without rhyme”? It made sense that it could be Rahaab, since Mathaal and Rahaab seemed to be brothers.
Mathaal had killed Icharaam, that much was clear. Had Rahaab helped him? In the end, that might not matter.
It all came down to whether he could trust Cassius or not. If Cassius had turned against Rahaab, giving Steven the location of the lost spell book made sense. He’d need help facing Rahaab and maintaining his independence.
And if Cassius was really working for Rahaab? Then Mont-Saint-Michel would certainly be a trap. That was the mostly likely scenario.
Well, Steven had survived other traps. He would get his father’s spell book, he would fight Rahaab with everything he had, and if he managed to escape?
He would return and avenge Mouse’s parents. He’d promised her, and Steven didn’t make promises unless he intended to keep them.
Chapter Seven
MOUSE PACED BACK AND forth, back and forth under the tall pines beside the picnic table. A carpet of copper-colored needles covered the rich black soil. Pollen from the trees fell on them in the gentle breeze. They had the place to themselves. Traffic noise from I-80 was hardly noticeable, since they were tucked away in the trees.
Liam was cooking again, grilling up hot dogs, hamburgers, and bratwurst. Tessa had requested veggie burgers. She was trying to eat healthier.
Yeah, what was the point of a veggie burger? Why not just eat some grilled zucchini with your beef? Separation of church and state.
Mouse so wanted to go off on a rant, but she stopped herself. It wouldn’t help the tension filling the air. Steven was still gone. What were he and Cassius talking about?
Maybe Steven was murdering the asshole, breathing fire down Cassius’s throat, like how he’d dealt with Mulk. Give him a big ’ol belly full of Inferno. Would you like some fries with that?
Sabina sat at the picnic table in jeans and a colorful blouse, sandals on her cute feet. Tessa had painted her toes. The Latina had a white cane they’d picked up in Cheyenne, to help her tap around since she was blind when she wasn’t actively casting a Magica Divinatio spell.
Sabina was a quiet woman, a little like Aria, but without Aria’s bloodthirsty streak. As for Bud, he talked enough for the two of them. He was off in the forest, bellowing into his cell phone about money and laws and business stuff. That guy loved his phone.
Aria and Tessa were busying themselves setting the table, getting salads out of the cooler, and generally being helpful. Mouse didn’t want to be helpful. She wanted answers. She wanted Steven back, safe and sound. Preferably with Cassius’s blood painting his claws.
A massive black dragon, wings beating, swooshed over them. That was Steven, unmistakable. His inky beard was getting longer. Aww, her man was growing up.
Steven wheeled in the sky and then came down to land on the road beside their vehicles: Liam’s F-150, Bud’s BMW, and their Chevy Silverado, brand-new and sparkling.
Steven changed into his human form, put on his jeans and shirt, and walked up to them. His face was dark.
Mouse rushed to him and grabbed his arm. “What did he want? Tell me everything. You told him we’re going to murder him, right? He killed my parents, Steven. That son of a cocksucker killed my parents!”
Steven took her into his arms and hugged her tight. Mouse wasn’t ready for such a display of affection. Then she realized she was shaking. She couldn’t control her anger. A million memories flooded her—her mother reading her bedtime stories, her father’s fencing lessons, evening meals with her father, his wives, their children. There had been a ton of fighting, and most of the time, Mouse had been on the losing side in the chaos of such a big family. She had never really felt like she fit in, but there had been some good times.
Until Cassius Pine.
“I’ll tell you everything,” Steven said. “It’s ... interesting, to say the least. But let’s eat first.” He pressed his hand to his gurgling gut.
The seven of them crowded around the table full of food. They had bags of salt ’n vinegar potato ships, kettle-boiled and extra crunchy. Dip them in potato salad and they were delicious. Liam had made a three-bean salad and a coleslaw that was as sweet as it was creamy. For the burgers, they had homegrown tomatoes from Liam’s hothouse, fresh lettuce, pickles, raw red onions, grilled onions, avocado, mustard, ketchup, and mayonnaise. Sweet relish for the hot dogs. Sauerkraut for the brats.
Mouse took a hot dog, though she didn’t have an appetite.
There were only six places to sit on the benches of the picnic table, so Bud sat on a cooler at one end. He wasn’t too happy about it. The folding lounge chairs they’d brought were too low.
Bud smiled while complaining. “Sure, stick the money guy with the crappiest seat. Once I start bringing you millions of dollars, then you’ll treat me like the prince I am.”
Liam took a bite of his cheeseburger. He swallowed. “Tell me again, Steven, what are Bud’s powers? Can he breathe fire?”
“Better,” Steven said. “He can breathe money.”
“Hells yeah I
can!” Bud exploded. “See, Liam, I may be the simple human in the group, but I gots the mad skillz! With a ‘z’!”
“I’m human,” Tessa protested.
“How many humans do you know that can cast spells?” Bud asked. “And when you kiss Steven, you glow. Yeah, I’m thinking you are something else.”
“She is,” Liam said. “Tessa’s magical gifts are considerable. I think she has some hidden history that we don’t know about, some connection to the Dragonsouls—maybe an ancient ancestor of amazing power.”
“Aww, I’m blushing.” Tessa grinned. “But if I am related to Harry Houdini or Steven Strange, I’d be the last to know it. As far as I’m know, I’m half American, half white trash, with a little Cherokee thrown in for flavor.”
Mouse lost her shit. She’d felt it slipping out of her hands, and now she was flinging it everywhere. “This isn’t just some fucking picnic. This is important. Cassius Pine is a murderous asshole, and I need to know what that fucker and Steven talked about. Can we cut the witty fucking banter for once?”
The awkward silence that followed was too much for her. “Oh, just never mind,” she snapped and stormed away into the trees, into the darkness. She wandered into a clearing of green grass. A huge moon gave her light, but it was cold away from the warmth of her friends. Once more, she’d exploded, and she knew that while the women were patient, she could strain their patience to the breaking point. She’d done it before.
She felt the tears come, and how she hated that, crying, alone, hungry. Everything had smelled so good, but she simply didn’t have an appetite.
Steven found her and handed her a plate. He’d added a little bit of everything. “I brought you some food. I’m so sorry. I should’ve told you what he said right away.”
“Yeah, you should’ve,” Mouse said in a weepy voice she hated. “Where can I sit?”
Steven stepped out of his clothes again and turned into his True Form. He thumped his tail on the ground, flattening the grass. “You can sit on me.”
Mouse agreed. She rested on his scales. His massive body warmed away the mountain night’s chill.