by Aaron Crash
Sabina stepped forward with her white cane in her hand. “Don’t try and protect me. I will protect myself. Steven believes in me, and I hope you all will as well.”
Mouse laughed sharply. “Well, Sabina baby, Steven hasn’t lost anyone in his Escort yet. So that’s good.”
“Ooh, bad luck much?” Tessa asked. “Let’s not even put that out into the universe. I totally believe in the laws of attraction.”
Mouse opened her mouth, then closed it. Her face went through a whole range of emotions. It was like her inner filter was working overtime. “Yeah, Tessa, the law of attraction. You are so right.”
Tessa kissed the blonde on her cheek. “Now that was a heroic effort. Nice work!”
Mouse twirled a finger. “Let’s just get on with the trap and the fighting and the shrieking and the wounding and the healing. Maestro, please.”
“Yeah,” Steven agreed. “Cast the spell, Liam.”
“Magica Porta!” Liam thundered. He had his hands thrust forward. The smoke from the fire spun around in a tornado of flame. The fire twisted into a circle.
“So Doctor Strange,” Tessa murmured. “So cool.”
Steven agreed.
Sabina gripped Steven’s arm.
The flame circle started small but grew and grew until it was three feet in diameter. On the other side was a rose-colored sky. A cool breeze brought them the smell of ocean and mud.
Liam was getting better. A five-foot opening, framed by spinning smoke and fire, stood in front of the bonfire.
Mouse strutted through, followed by Aria, and then Tessa, revolvers drawn and ready.
Steven and Sabina went last.
“One hour!” Liam gasped. “For this sneak attack, you’ll have one hour, at the exact spot, and I’ll open another one. Good luck, Steven. Be careful.”
Steven threw a hand over his shoulder in a goodbye wave. It wasn’t about being careful. It was about being good and getting lucky. So far, his luck had held out. As for being good? The blood in his veins made sure of that.
The bonfire doorway closed behind him.
They stood in green fields about a quarter-mile from the beach. The tide was in, so the ancient monastery of Mont-Saint-Michel was cut off from the mainland. The whole island had castle walls with a massive church at the top. The collection of walls, ramparts, buildings, and stone staircases was surrounded by waves. The rising sun painted the sea and stone red. The place looked like something out of a fairy tale.
Tessa sucked in a breath. “It’s beautiful. I can’t believe I’m actually in France. Dream come true. Bucket list item checked off. Hell, yes!”
“The crepe stands are all going to be closed,” Mouse grumbled. “Oh well. It’s time to kick ass and eat Nutella. And I’m all out of Nutella.”
“Just one more reason why we can’t die,” Tessa responded. “The dead don’t eat Nutella.”
“I think that might be a Western,” Mouse replied.
Aria stepped between them. “Yes, the witty banter, it is very nice you are both getting along so well.” She turned. “Perhaps Sabina can cast a divination spell to see what we are up against.” Not a question. No. A challenge.
Sabina, in white capris and a white blouse embroidered with red and blue flowers, stepped forward in sandals with wide leather straps. “Magica Divinatio!”
Her white eyes burned green. “The monks, the brothers of Jerusalem, are up and praying in the church. There is an abbot getting ready for mass. Others, vendors, they are coming to set up the market for the day. We should hurry.”
“Any sign of Dragonsouls?” Steven asked.
“No,” Sabina answered. “And I don’t see any kind of real library. But then, Rahaab would keep his Aerie hidden. There is a spell in place, powerful magic on par with Mathaal’s.”
Steven stripped off his shirt and dropped his jeans, leaving them to mark where Liam’s portal would open in less than two hours. “Let’s get a closer look. There seems to be a courtyard up at the top. Let’s fly there.”
Aria and Mouse also stripped.
“Magica Defensio.” Tessa handled the hide spell.
Mouse shifted, transforming into an amber dragon smelling of almonds. Aria’s cinnamon scent was strong as she melted into a scarlet dragon. Both took off with leathery wings beating. Mouse had shifted the Slayer Blade to its bracelet mode, so it dangled off her scaled wrist.
Steven, black as night and twice as big as either of the women, took to wing. He banked around and caught Sabina in his claws, making sure he picked her up gently. Mouse retrieved Tessa, and they soared through the air, shadows lost in the night sky.
The green fields were split by a main road that would probably be full of tourists in a few short hours. According to Liam, Mont-Saint-Michel was a place millions of people visited every year. Now, it was bare asphalt and empty parking lots. The ocean lapped at the beach and rippled around the ramparts of the fortified island.
Steven could see why people would want to visit. It was a striking place.
Cobblestone streets ran past colorful vendor stalls and expensive looking restaurants. Little chapels, churches, and stone buildings with ornate windows lined avenues. There were multiple sets of stone steps around the island. It was like a castle, a church, and a labyrinth all in one.
Steven flew up to the courtyard in front of the church. He dipped and gently placed Sabina there. Mouse dropped Tessa off next to her. Then the amber-colored dragon shifted into her partial form. Aria followed suit. Both dragon women stood ready to fight.
Steven ascended and took another turn about the skies. A strange staircase wrapped around the steeple of the church. It ended abruptly at a landing. Had it been built to service the roof? That didn’t seem right. They could get to the strange staircase through an iron gate near the doors to the church in the courtyard.
Steven flew higher. Though the air was clear, he felt himself pass through what felt like cold, wet clouds. He thought he could smell old books, but that scent was lost to the ocean breeze. It was an odd feeling, and he wasn’t sure what it meant.
He wheeled around one more time, going up and over the church. Again, he had the sense of flying through vapor. Conjured mist. Finally, he landed on the back part of the courtyard near the eastern wall. His Escort stood in front of him. The open space was about fifty feet wide and a hundred feet long.
Before he could shift, the doors of the church burst open.
A slender older man, balding, in a monk’s brown robes, burst forth and asked in exasperated, accented English, “I am the abbot. What are you doing here?” He was staring at Tessa and Sabina. Or so it would seem. “You must leave. Now.”
Sabina’s eyes glowed like emeralds. “Magica Defensio!”
Not a second later, a dozen arrows, burning red with magical flame, struck the force field in front of her, Tessa, Aria, and even Steven himself. The shafts broke against the flashing green magical wall.
Steven grinned. Already Sabina had saved them, and the fight hadn’t really begun.
His grin slipped when hell came storming out of the church.
The abbot wasn’t an abbot after all. His brown robes were shredded as he transformed into a scaled horror of mass destruction.
Chapter Nine
STEVEN OPENED HIS MOUTH to cook the dragon before he could finish transforming. Steven unleashed his Inferno Exhalant over the heads of his Escort standing in front of him. But there must’ve been a Magician in the mix because Steven’s fire hit a glimmering silver shield spell, and his flames licked around the sides. The enemy Homo Draconis pulled a flail out of his tattered clothes. Three spiked balls hung from the thick chains connected to its handle. Wings burst from his back.
The monks behind the dragon man also wore brown robes, but clearly these motherfuckers hadn’t taken any kind of vow to turn the other cheek.
Their pale skin disappeared as scales appeared. In seconds, thick plates covered them from head to foot. Their round pupils turned into the ve
rtical slits of snake eyes. A few toward the back held long bows, though most of them wielded long poleaxes—some hooked, others double-bladed, all deadly. Red flames leapt up the polished metal as huge wings sprouted from their backs.
These things weren’t Dragonsouls ... no, otherwise Sabina would’ve detected them. These were Dragonskins, at least two dozen. Humans could go through rituals to take on some of the powers of Dragonsouls, but the process was long and painful.
These warriors seemed well-trained. Instead of attacking chaotically, the archers stood back while those with polearms charged forward. Steven and his Escort stood in a defensive line in the middle of the courtyard. Sabina dropped back as planned.
From above, blue magic arrows streaked down.
“Magica Defensio!” Tessa deflected the energy bursts while raising one of her revolvers.
“Let’s keep it quiet,” Steven hissed. “Tessa, no guns. And let’s avoid using our Exhalants. That lightning shit is loud. We’re trying to sneak in unnoticed.”
“Epic fail there, boss, but okay.” Mouse ripped the Slayer Blade from its scabbard, transforming into a slight woman who moved in a blur. She was going to use her SerpentGrace to undo the heavy-armored Dragonskins. A Homo Draconis swung his poleax at her, but she flipped over it and came down hard, stabbing the monk through his heart. Mouse laughed as Animus filled her in a swirl of golden light. She dodged another attack and hacked through another half-dragon’s throat.
Aria went True Form and whipped her long tail into a Dragonskin, crushing his skull. A poleax glanced off the scales of her back, and she drove her claws through her enemy’s chest, ending him before he’d even had a chance to really fight.
An arrow bounced off Sabina’s shield before it could hit Steven.
Off to the right, he noticed three guards standing near the iron gate. In the heat of battle, he would’ve expected them to throw themselves into the fray, yet they remained at their post. So that staircase was important.
A flash of movement to his left—
Blue streaks of light singed his scales, but again, Sabina’s shield saved him from the brunt of the damage. The attack had come from a pair of women on the church balcony—both human, both clearly Magicians. One let out a squawk of surprise at being seen, dropped down behind the thick balcony wall, then frantically tried to drag the other woman down.
The second woman was far too slow ...
“Magica Impetim!” Steven, still a dragon, cast his whirling magic throwing stars. Several struck the monastery, chipping away the stone, while a handful more carved through the still standing woman. She was dead before her body hit the ground.
Sabina also called out a spell, sending long strings of sparkling green energy, like flung Fourth of July sparklers, into two of the archers. The blind woman’s eyes glowed brighter. Arrows, red with fire or blue with magic, filled the air, but Sabina kept them safe even as she attacked, hurling more sparkling lines of emerald light.
Mouse leapt and drove her sword into the heart of a Dragonskin towering over her. In a blink, she transformed into her True Form. She dropped her sheath and left her sword in the guy’s chest and flew across the courtyard. She snatched up two of the dragon men and flung herself over the side. Clutching her enemies to her chest, she breathed her Toxicity Exhalant into their faces even as they fell. Mouse then flung them away from her while filling her wings with wind. The Dragonskins coughed and spasmed as they plummeted. They were dead before they hit the water. The scent of bitter almonds filled the air.
The former priest, the leader—a dark scaled thing about ten feet tall with massive wings—soared over the battle, banked left, then dove at Steven directly. Three other Dragonskins joined the leader. All held hooked polearms, the blades covered in conjured flame. The leader’s whirling flail sparked with electricity that arced from the handle and down the chains, to swirl around the spiked spheres.
Steven figured he might as well take the battle into the air. He launched himself off the cobblestones and took flight. He spun to meet his attackers head-on. Four against one? He could handle those odds—especially since they were only Dragonskins and not true Dragonsouls. He cast a shield spell to protect himself against physical attacks. He wasn’t sure if these dragon men could cast spells, and the last remaining Magician was on top of the church, exchanging fire with Sabina.
Aria streaked in and chomped down on one of Steven’s attackers, her vicious fangs and powerful jaws biting the man nearly in half. Dead. Blood and gore leaked out from the man’s middle. Aria wheeled away, victim still clutched in her jaw, then dropped the very dead Dragonskin into the ocean spray far below. With her grisly task done, she pumped her great wings and raced back to help. She must’ve been using both SerpentGrace and DragonStrength because she was flying fast, almost supersonic.
Steven slammed his force field into a nearby Dragonskin maneuvering in the air to intercept her. The impact broke one of the Dragonskin’s wings, and he went off in an erratic flight. Aria descended on him a second later, tearing through his other wing, then ripping out his throat. He too was cast into the drink.
Two down, two to go. Steven pumped his wings and bolted around the top of the church. The leader and his lackey raced after him, catching up.
Steven soared upward, again, feeling like he was flying through ... something. Vapor? Hidden clouds? What?
He turned as the lackey flew in to attack. Steven deflected the guy’s flaming poleax, and then sheared one of the dragon man’s arms off. Steven reached out and snatched the ax out of his remaining hand. With a twirl and a flourish, Steven brought the flaming blade down through one of the Dragonskin’s leathery wings. The poor schmuck never stood a chance and dropped like a rock. This time Mouse did the cleanup. She caught him before he hit the ground, tore off his head, and quickly disposed of the body in the sea.
But the battle wasn’t over yet.
The leader blazed in hard and fast, lashing out with his flail. The bastard was quick—too quick for a regular Dragonskin—which meant he’d probably unlocked the SerpentGrace ability from the Pugna section of the skill tree. His electrically charged flail smashed into Steven’s shoulder like a wrecking ball, driving a railroad spike of pain through his body. A surge of raw power followed, and he lost control of his wings. It was like getting Tased by an actual lightning bolt. For a long beat, all he could do was spasm from the attack. He plummeted toward the unforgiving rooftops of the buildings and streets below.
Finally, the initial shock of the blast wore off, and his limbs started obeying him again—and not a moment too soon, since the ground was quickly rushing up to meet him. He’d practiced coming out of such falls, though it was always touch and go. He flipped over, arched his neck, and spread his wings. He reinforced his limbs with DragonStrength as he caught an errant gust of wind. And just like that, he leveled out, zipping across the church courtyard, close enough to the paving stones that he could reach out a claw and touch them. A damned close call.
He lurched back into the air, pumping his wings to gain altitude. Above, the priestly leader waited for him, his flail whirling. The priest shot toward Steven like an arrow, and his flail sliced through the air once more—this time aimed at Steven’s head. But Steven still had the flaming poleax clutched in one oversized hand, and he used it to block the incoming attack. The weapons smashed together with a clatter, tongues of blue and orange flaring as deadly magic met deadly magic.
Steven swept his wings around, like he was flying away, but at the last moment, he whirled. Gripping the poleax with both hands, he cut through the wrist of the priest. The Dragonskin roared in shock and pain, his flail falling away, gripped by a scale-covered hand that was no longer attached to his arm.
The priest shrieked and went all in, using his remaining clawed hand to clutch at Steven’s chest. He sank the talons on his feet into Steven’s thighs to stabilize himself.
The fool had brought himself into striking distance. Steven didn’t hesitate. He snapp
ed his jaws forward. The leader’s scales were no match for Steven’s powerful jaws. Blood gushed into his mouth, followed in short order by a flood of delicious, life-giving Animus.
With a grimace, Steven spat the dead leader out of his mouth. The Dragonskin’s corpse turned human and went tumbling from the sky, smacking into the ocean below. The body quickly sank underneath the waters, swallowed by rolling blue and white froth. Steven dropped the flaming polearm, letting it join the priest in the watery depths.
He banked hard left and swooped down, beelining for the courtyard. He touched down, surveying the beautiful medieval monastery turned gory battlefield. Sabina and Tessa had taken care of the last remaining Magician. Corpses of naked men covered the blood-spattered cobblestones.
Steven turned into his human form. He gripped his wounded shoulder. The gashes on his thighs made walking hard.
“Magica Cura,” Sabina whispered. She hit him with a powerful healing spell, and it fixed him right up. His new Magician certainly was powerful, no denying that.
Aria and Mouse touched down but stayed in their dragon forms. Streaks of blood covered the scales on Mouse’s chest. Aria might be bloody, but her scales were already so red that it was hard to tell. He thought of the old Deadpool joke. No wonder the monks had worn brown robes to the fight.
They stood silent, waiting for another attack. Gulls called in the distance, accompanied by the steady churn of the ocean against the rocky shore. Far below, on the streets, vendors were setting up their stalls and getting their wares out. Other than that, it was silent up by the church. It seemed the priest and the monks had been the only guards. Which was strange because they hadn’t been that tough.
Tessa toed a dead man. “Well, we might have gotten all of the guards. Uh, we should probably clean up. Nothing says sneak attack like a bunch of dead bodies.”