Draft of Dragons

by T S Paul

  “I hope it wasn’t too strenuous a surprise. Both she and Cat tend to shoot first, ask questions later,” Anastasia commented.

  “Agnes Pickleberry is a surprising woman. I will bet you she already has them running circles around each other by now,” Minerva laughed.

  Chapter 10

  Catherine “Cat” Moore stepped out of the antique emporium in a daze. Agatha and Mrs. Pickleberry had been at it for more than two hours and she was feeling just a little shell shocked.

  “Boom! Boom!”

  Agnes was teaching Agatha how to accurately aim multiple fireballs and direct the effects. She’d watched as long as she could, but there was only so much boom she could take in one sitting.

  “I’m going outside for a while,” Cat announced.

  Agnes looked up from her instruction and smiled. “That’s fine dear. Be sure the door closes firmly. The shielding on the building needs it to be closed.”

  Cat could believe it. How the town didn’t hear what was happening inside here just had to be Magickal. Briarwood was so different from the towns she’d grown up in. Her father owned several “hunting resorts” where Weres could gather and run free without fear of either exposure or being shot at by mistake. Most of her generation didn’t know or really understand the fear of what exposure really meant. Her father had tried to explain on more than one occasion. She sat on a bench on the sidewalk, closed her eyes, and remembered that conversation.

  “You could lose everything,” Cat’s father, Robert said. “Today all that would happen is the police would be called. You’d get a slap on the wrist and maybe an indecent exposure ticket. Fifty years ago, it would be a death sentence. There were laws against free-roaming Weres. We were all supposed to be on the reservations or working. For many of our kind such as the bears, there was no other choice. You’ve seen my copies of the Purple Book. Many of those entries are people's homes. It was very dangerous to travel the country alone and without escort. The great reveal had a sort of coming together factor to it. Color and race were ignored after the new emancipation laws in the 1920’s. Humans were the ones being threatened, after all. Paranormals were the threat now, and it was they who the humans rallied against.”

  Cat argued, “But how did the humans gain so much power over our people? I’ve seen some of the records. There were thousands of us here.”

  Robert sighed and looked at his daughter. “Stupidity and blind trust in the goodness of the government and humanity, for the most part.”

  Waving his hands as if brushing something off, he looked skyward for a moment before speaking. “We lived among the humans peacefully then. The great reveal came as a shock to not only the humans, but our folk as well. You forget I have been on the Supreme Pack Council for many years as well as the Species one. Oh, we’d discussed revealing all the negotiating with the world governments before. It was a common argument among all the councils. It was only after Rome fell that we all went into hiding. The followers of the White God and the chaos of decline drove us there.”

  “I remember the history taught in the Pack school. That part was never mentioned to me,” Cat told her father. “Where were our people at that time?”

  “Eh. You wished to join the government, and unfortunately there are some things not told to younglings. What you don’t know you cannot speak of. Only the Elders and our own historians know most of it. Our Pack didn’t exist then. Not as it is now. Some of our ancestors fled what is now Northern Africa before Julian’s death in 363. With him gone there wasn’t any protection from the bishops and their followers. The early Catholic Church deemed us Demons and sought to burn any progress we’d made under Rome. From what I understand, it was a very dangerous time for all of our people,” her father stated.

  “But where could they go? America wasn’t even discovered then!” Cat said.

  Robert laughed at the look upon his daughter’s face. It was as if she’d eaten a pickle. “Dearheart, surely you don’t believe the Human’s history completely? Don’t be a sheeple.”

  “Sheeple Dad, really?” Cat threw up her hands and glared at her father.

  Robert Moore chuckled and crossed his legs in front of him. “If the wool fits, child. Don’t let all that government schooling shade your judgement and dim your brain. Our people were smart. They listened to those that knew, and they took ship with those that traveled. The Phoenicians, Romans, Greeks, and even much later the Vikings. We went into the unknown and established communities that humankind can only dream of. Hiding isn’t forever, though. At some point you either have to take a stand or fade into history forever. There were allies to be found and we used them as well. The Witches and the Vampires hold a special place in our peoples’ hearts. You might ask the one you travel with about those days. She was there, after all.”

  Cat shook her head at her father. “She’s old, but not that old.”

  Robert snorted. “If you believe that, tell me another. You forget I’m privy to almost all the Species Council’s records. Anastasia was there. But I digress. You asked about here, in this country.”

  “Do you remember your uncle Angus?” Robert asked her.

  Cat cocked her head to one side and stared at her father for a moment. Most of her really close relatives lived in a small valley in Kentucky, but her mother’s clan were from somewhere else. “Mama’s brother?”

  Robert smiled. “Close. Her mother’s brother. He should be a Great Uncle, but he never wanted to be called that. Angus visited a couple of years before you left for the Academy.”

  “I remember. It was before Mama got sick. We all took a big picture I think?” Cat asked him.

  “Correct. Remind me the next time you’re home and I’ll get it down for you. Something like that should be in your household, not mine. So Angus was a traveling shoe salesman in 1919. He doubled as a spy for the Councils, also. With his wagon of goods, he could easily slip into human cities and towns. The world was so different back then. It had only been four years since the reveal. Military curfews were still very common, and riots broke out constantly. Everyone was worried about their jobs, the economy, and who would try to take their money from them next. It was the beginning of what historians call the Great Migration. Ethnic groups of humans were moving from the post-Civil War economies of the south and into the richer, more industrialized northern cities. Tensions were already high in the cities. Toss in a few new species of people and it was like lighting a match.” He motioned with his hands like an explosion. “Angus was in Chicago then. He’d set up a temporary shop in the Back of the Yards neighborhood. For us it was perfect. It was mostly Eastern European in nature with a smattering of Irish and new residents. Your uncle could speak more than a dozen languages. In school, did you read Upton Sinclair’s The Jungle?”

  Cat nodded. “It was required reading.”

  “That book was set in the same neighborhood, although a different time. So as I said, Angus set up shop. He sold shoes and listened to public opinion. Race was still an issue then, and many of the gangs in the area tried to stir up trouble by attacking one group or the other. In chaos there is profit. Especially if the police are afraid to come into the neighborhoods. A riot broke out that summer. Nobody knows for sure what started it, but Angus suspected that a learning center set up by one of the smaller Wolf Packs may have been the cause. At first it was racial. Rocks were thrown and beatings commenced. Known agitators attacked unsuspecting Weres. We heal quickly, and it was noticed. The attacks intensified, spilling over into the city at large. It may have started with us, but the other racial groups were dragged into it. Houses were set ablaze and the military brought in to quell the violence. For more than four days the city raged. The small Pack ceased to exist. Try as he might, Angus could never find any trace of the group after the military moved away. It was rumored that they were captured and disposed of. No one was sure of anything or anyone. Even Angus feared for his life by the end of it all,” Robert explained. “The humans set up checkpoints on every road le
ading in or out of the city of Chicago. They would scratch or cut you and if you healed instantly they would detain you.”

  “That’s illegal!” Cat cried out.

  “Not in 1919 it wasn’t. Remember, it wasn’t until the early 1920s that all of humanity came together ignoring race. States could do as they pleased with Paranormals. Needless to say, Angus was captured trying to leave the city,” Robert explained. He sighed and rubbed his hands together as if they were cold. “I tried to help him but couldn’t. The Council…the Council had a mostly hands-off approach to things then and were still trying to come to terms with exposure. Remember, the humans only knew of Weres, Witches, and Vampires at the time. Angus was on his own.”

  “If I met him when I was a child he obviously escaped,” Cat commented.

  Robert nodded. “He did. But he was exposed. He lost his business, his customers, almost all his stock, and any goodwill he’d gained. Blaming the local Paranormals and not the racial tension or gang influences in the city, the local government came down hard on everyone. Treated as a criminal, he was tarred, feathered, and run out of town on a rail. He’s extremely lucky his healing factor was as strong as it was. If he’d been human he’d have died. Many did. His company was based out of Georgia, in the shipping port of Savannah. Returning home that year, he found his house seized and his assets gone. Chicago officials thought it a civic duty to pass the word along to their friends down south. Angus could do nothing. Any protest he made was ignored and no human legal professionals would touch him. Those in our community kept him at arm’s length as well. They didn’t want what happened to him to spread.”

  “But that isn’t fair!” Cat exclaimed.

  Her father nodded. “It’s not. But it was the way the world worked at that time. What happened to him is why I keep my company so spread out, and why I allowed you to enter the FBI’s service. The more people of ours that are on the inside working to advance our people, the better. Everything now is up to us. We have the chance to build our own futures and to learn from past mistakes.”

  “Past mistakes,” Cat muttered to herself remembering her father’s words as if it was yesterday. They’d talked half the night, jumping from ancient history to modern and back to ancient. Robert Moore was fond of mixed metaphors and ancient sayings. His library at home was filled with works in dead languages. “I wonder what he’s saying about the situation Agatha and I are in now?”

  Pulling out her cell phone, Cat thought about calling him to find out. They’d talked when the battle at Fort Sumter ended. But she hadn’t told him of the suspension and how she chose to follow her boss rather than take over as they’d asked her. Being an adult was so hard! Leaning back into the bench, she brought her hands up to her face, rubbing her cheeks. Too many things to do and think on now that there was a possibility of not working for the FBI anymore.

  Briarwood was an interesting town. On one hand you had an active Witch community that, if you believed Agatha’s grandmother, had been here since the 1600’s. And on the other hand, there was a more mundane community that lived and worked beside them. The Garden was central to the small valley and seemed to regulate both groups to a certain extent. Add in the fact that the entire area was a magnet for the strange and unusual, and it made for a great place to visit.

  Watching a group of tourists trying to feed the purple squirrels… distracted Cat from all the problems she could see with leaving government service. Aggy had options here in town, at least.

  The squirrels were a hoot, though. Like Fergus, they were indestructible and immortal, according to Marcella. They were more intelligent than their normal brethren, but not by much. Fergus claimed he could talk to them, but refused to explain that bit of information to the group. As Cat watched, the tourists all but gave up trying to get the squirrels to eat and took pictures instead.

  A bright flash of color drew Cat’s eyes from the park and she spied what looked to be a delivery van of some kind making the loop around the park. Just watching, she’d realized that it wasn’t all that unusual for people to make several loops around just to find a good parking spot. The van read “Jones Plumbing” on the side, but the figure driving it was what was really important. It was a fully articulated skeleton!

  “Holy crap!” Cat muttered to herself as she watched the van pull in. It had stopped in front of the row of businesses near where Agatha had parked. The van door opened and the skeleton stepped out. It wore a toolbelt and carried what looked like a heavy bag.

  The locals didn’t seem to even see it. While several people moved out of the skeleton’s way, none of them ran screaming. Even the tourists didn’t move.

  “What’s up?” Cold fingers brushed across Cat’s shoulder and neck.

  “Aaaaaa!” Cat jumped and screamed at the same time. Looking up, she saw Anastasia with a huge smile on her face.

  “Ha ha ha! Got you that time. You okay, there?” Ana asked her.

  “Where in the hell did you come from? No, I’m not ok. I think I just lost one of my nine lives! Seriously, where did you come from,” Cat demanded.

  Ana chuckled, hooking a finger over her shoulder. Two cars down on the right, Marcella Blackmore stood watching them. Dressed in a tank top and shorts, Agatha’s grandmother could have passed for any one of the many tourists in town. “We thought we’d check up on you.”

  “And scare the living daylights out of me! I’m a Were, you’re not supposed to be able to do that to us,” Cat exclaimed to her friend.

  “I’ve been around a long time, and sneaky is what kept you alive. Some of my favorite trainers were Weres. You would have like them. They were tough,” Ana mused. “So where’s your partner in crime?”

  “Inside. The owner is the trainer for the Coven and wanted to put Aggy through the paces,” Cat replied.

  “It’s a bit more than that actually,” Marcella stated as she approached the duo. “Agnes Pickleberry is perhaps the most experienced and talented trainer we have. You might have noticed we don’t have a lot of battles around here, at least we didn’t until after Agatha was born.”

  “You could’ve told us, you know,” Cat looked at Marcella accusingly.

  “And spoil all Agnes’s fun? No way. She’s just a bit older than me and wields a bit of power around here. Ever since Kassandra…” Marcella paused in mid-sentence. Giving her head a minor shake, she continued. “She has been earmarked as Agatha’s trainer by the Coven since she began to show so much promise.”

  Looking at Cat shrewdly, Marcella continued. “Power is just the first step. To achieve greatness, you have to have tact, prowess, and command. My granddaughter has the will. She just needs the way. Being with your team has helped her immensely.” She patted Anastasia on the shoulder. “Good advisors, as well.”

  “My duty. I made a promise to someone once upon a time that when the time came and the Magical Division had a real leader, that I would help to keep him or her out of trouble. It isn’t just the Magickal that goes bump in the night. Sometimes it’s those closest to you that are the most feared,” Ana replied.

  “Exactly,” Marcella stated. Turning her attention back to Cat she asked, “What brings you outside?”

  “Too many booms. It was getting way too loud for my sensitive ears in there. I came out here to people watch and think. Did you know there’s a skeleton working as a plumber here in your town?” Cat asked as she pointed to the work van parked down the street.

  Marcella followed Cat’s finger and sighed. “Ah, Mr. Jones. He’s not actually a skeleton. It’s a spell, a rather nasty one at that. When he first came to town we, the Coven, investigated him.”

  “And?” Cat asked. Anytime someone was investigated, it interested her. Something about the hunt. It was a cat thing.

  “He’s as you younger girls would say, screwed. During the course of his job he ran afoul of a Fae Lord with a peculiar way of punishing those who disparage him. While he may look and feel like a skeleton, he’s actually still human underneath the glamour that w
as put on him.” Marcella nodded as she spoke. “A beautiful piece of work. Textured and carefully interlaced, the spell totally encompasses him. To remove it…well, it might kill him.”

  The man in question came out of one of the local stores, waving as he walked. Each step sounded like dry bones on the concrete. Jones heaved his tool bag into his van and then climbed in after it.

  “You couldn’t fix him?” Cat asked as she watched the man’s van back up and pull out.

  “Nope. Only a Lord of equal power and strength could do it, and with Fae, even that might not work. Doing that to someone and keeping the spell in place as it is takes a huge amount of power. Among the Fae, that is equally as good as great prestige. By doing this, he’s a rock star,” Marcella replied.

  Looking a bit horrified Cat responded, “So he just works his job and deals with it? That’s got to be rough on him.”

  “Possibly. I don’t know the man’s business. He works down around Portland somewhere. Since he’s Magickal he understands our issues here in the valley and is on call if we need him. Even though his name is obviously Mr. Jones, around here he’s known as Bones,” she replied.

  Ana smiled, showing her fangs. “You have a very strange place here, Marcella.”

  “Thank you, we do try. I like to think that Verity would be pleased by it all. My family has tried to live up to the standard she set. A lot has changed in four hundred years here,” Marcella answered.

  Chapter 11

  “Who are you?” The woman at the door held a gun up to Beatrice’s face.

  Madeline stared for just a moment and chuckled, “Is this where you ended up then? Funny that we should be the ones to find you.”

  Not letting go of her pistol, the woman made a motion with her other hand. The drapes of the windows on either side of the door flickered just a bit. “Who?”