by T D Raufson
Just before he carried the box into the back yard, he queued the video up again for his father and switched back to the Wiccan forum where he dropped the link into fallen1-87’s thread. Maybe he could help her, after all.
July 9 – 0745 CEST – Munich, Germany
Rebekka had learned her lesson. She now understood her Grandmother’s warning. Playing with magic was dangerous. One had to be careful about how they cast spells. A smart witch would not cast spells unless they knew the effects, and then they would avoid spells that manipulated emotions like love and hate. She had learned. Over the past few weeks she had learned more than she had ever expected. Magic was not a toy. Magic was a weapon, and one should be very serious about how one used it.
She looked out over the crowd of executives heading to their meetings in the conference center. This was where she was going to turn her magic into business. Somewhere in this crowd was the man who would change her life. Why did it have to be a man? First, she enjoyed men; they were fun diversions. Second, they were the most common owners of multi billion dollar companies. And third, she was specially equipped to give him whatever he was unable to buy. She reviewed her plan as she waited.
Step one: find the target.
Step two: find out what he needs.
Step three: get it for him.
Simple plan, now she had to execute it.
Before she joined the flow of conference attendees heading back toward their rooms, she cast a complicated spell she had prepared before she left the house. With the last words of the incantation, she made the motion with the crystal magnifying glass that was described in the old text and waited. The book promised it would reveal the unseen and secret. Now, she wondered what that would look like and if anyone else would see it. She shivered the worry away and merged with the crowd. It was too late now.
She looked over the crowd moving around her and sighed. Everyone looked the same. Nothing looked different at all. When she reached the conference halls, she checked each doorplate looking for interesting companies or groups. Still nothing. Disappointed and alone after all of the rooms had filled, she turned towards the front of the conference center and walked with purpose back to where she started her search.
Back at the main entrance she reviewed her failure and sat down in a cluster of soft chairs to wait for the next break. With the schedules for the day memorized, she felt as prepared as she could be. A single failure early in the morning did not make the whole day bad. There was no way she could have seen everyone. Step one was like washing one’s hair, there was always a repeat step.
With time on her hands she concentrated on reviewing the inventory of spells she had started a few days before. It had four columns; spells she knew and had cast, spells she knew but had not cast, spells she was afraid to cast and spells she needed to add to her list. The last column was a kind of wish list that she pursued when she had nothing else to do. After collecting all of the spell books she could find in her grandmother’s things, she started looking for other sources of spells. Spell inventory, it turned out, was not a problem for her. Years of casting spells without seeing results was what was hurting her. She was too accustomed to nothing happening, but that was changing as she found interesting ways to practice. Once she ran out of bums in the park, she would find other lab rats in the raves and clubs unless she landed her catch today.
For an hour, she reworked her inventory while being interrupted by the clerks behind the hotel counter talking about what they had watched the night before on television. Each time she looked up at the giggling idiots, she had to resist the urge to curse each of them in some grotesque way. She overcame the desire by forcing herself to check the time with the clock on her phone. After three times of shoving it back into the pocket of her suit jacket instead of casting a spell, she stood up from the chair and prepared herself for the next break. She considered—for one last instant—testing a particularly nasty sounding spell that she had never cast before on one of the counter watchers, but decided it would unsettle the environment too much. If she failed to find a mark on this break, she would reconsider that as an option though.
She scanned herself for blemishes and straightened a few things before she turned to head back to the rooms. The light in the room suddenly dimmed around her.
A shadow, like a cloud hiding the sun, fell over her.
She looked up to find the shadow’s source, and her heart skipped painfully in her chest. She choked back the scream that came with it.
An immaculately dressed man was walking toward her. Towering over him and walking in his footsteps was the menacing, shadowy figure of a dragon that filled the room.
The man was focused on an area over Rebekka’s left shoulder and paying little attention to anyone else in the room.
The shadow of the dragon, however, was attentive and looking everywhere else. It paused to stare at each person in the lobby.
The lack of any reaction in the room drew her attention away from the shadow. She was the only person who could see it. Rebekka forced herself to relax, and she whispered a silent thanks to her grandmother and the goddess before she stepped out to follow him.
Her heart was still racing.
A fine sheen of sweat coated her palms.
A few steps later, the dragon shadow was staring at her.
Had she actually heard the growl or only imagined it?
Spooked, she stepped behind a pole next to a rack of attraction cards where the projection could not see her.
“I need to speak with the conference coordinator. I have a conference scheduled, and I’d like to check the facilities,” he said to the first clerk near him as he walked up.
He spoke in very proper German, but he was not native, his accent was foreign. She guessed American, but he was having no problem communicating. When she looked around the pole to check for other indications of where he was from, the projection pinned her to her place with piercing eyes. It had no problem communicating either.
Slipping back behind the post again, she wondered what exactly it meant. She considered the news stories she had read since her spells had started working. The stories of lizard men and weird creatures had been interesting, but she had barely paid any mind to them after the first day. Now, standing a few feet away from her was a man who her spell that revealed the unseen or unknown was telling her was a dragon. She nearly jumped into the air and shouted. This might be exactly who she was looking for.
Her pulse raced again for a different reason, but she inhaled a slow breath, forcing herself to control her impulsive nature. Trying not to look out of place she snatched a brochure from the rack and stared at it without reading it. She didn’t want him to see, but she needed to know who he was and how she could help him.
There had to be a way she could follow him without him knowing. She looked up and around the post as surreptitiously as she could into the eyes of the dragon, who was still staring at her. She sifted through the other spells she had cast recently or used before trying to remember her inventory, which had selected that moment to escape her memory. She reverted to the list she had used for years at work. She had never really believed she could be invisible, but she had often pretended the spell worked. It had become a joke to her and her coworkers over the years. It was how she told them she didn’t want them around. As quietly as she could and with less flare than she used when she cast it at her colleagues, she chanted the old words and made the motions required to vanish. As the final phrase cleared her lips and the motions ended, she felt a jolt like static shock that had not happened on previous castings. She couldn’t be sure that meant she was invisible, but she had little time to learn. Placing the card she was reading back into the rack and stepping boldly out from behind the pole, she walked directly up to the counter.
She was sure, if she had been visible, one of the clerks would have addressed her when she reached the counter. Then she reminded herself of the half-hour of inane discussion of some teen-dream’s physical perfectio
n, and she knew she had to be sure. She raised both hands and waived at the one she wanted to hex. The slightly plump young woman didn’t react at all.
Convinced she was safe, she walked a few feet away from the man with the shadow of a dragon. He was paying her no attention. The dragon shadow, who seemed to find her interesting before now sniffed at the air. She was invisible.
This has its advantages, she thought.
An older woman, obviously convinced her dress would not affect her position at the conference center, walked from an office behind the counter and put out her hand to greet him.
“Yes. You must be Mr. Kellmunz from The International Brotherhood of The Dragon. Welcome, I’ve been expecting you. Please follow me.” She walked to the end of the counter and out a door to meet him.
Rebekka turned and quickly caught up to them, mimicking the affected walk of the conference center manager. When she caught up to them, she drew up close behind the woman so she could see what she was carrying. The information on the file she held said his name was Nicklaus and that he was bringing nearly two hundred men to the conference center in four days. If they were all Brothers, then she was looking at a very powerful man indeed.
She smiled to herself while she ignored the way her closeness to the center’s manager made the woman twitch uncomfortably. It was like she wanted to swat a large spider off her arm without revealing it was there. She was relieved when he suggested they check the rooms she had reserved for him, but seemed more distressed when she didn’t escape the unexplained irritation. Rebekka wanted to laugh but needed to remain hidden. She bit her lip and continued to maintain her uncomfortable distance as she followed them back to the conference halls.
According to the form, Rebekka had seven days to learn what she needed to know about The International Brotherhood of The Dragon. He needed her. Why, she had to figure out. How, exactly, she would convince him was a third problem, but it was all part of the plan she would have ready in seven days.
Chapter 6 - The Conclave
July 16 – 0630 CEST - Munich, Germany
The Gulfstream with the king’s delegation to the conclave, including Nethliast, landed in Munich after weeks of preparation. Nethliast was relaxed and ready for this meeting, looking forward to the conversation he expected to easily control. The head of every dragon breed would be there with his key male advisors, as was tradition.
Nethliast’s confidence was based on the list of senior males that would support him when the voting started. There were a few wildcards left to manage, the most important being the Asian dragons, and that was why he still needed Valdiest. The good king still served a purpose.
Valdiest, King of the European Dragons, would oversee the first conclave of dragons since their emergence. Nethliast’s father, Gerliast, aide-de-camp to the king, would be there beside them. He did not agree with their plans but, as was his job, he would keep his opinion to himself. However, Nethliast, the soon-to-be-crowned successor to the throne, would shine as the dragon that organized this monumental meeting, unafraid of human scrutiny. He would be known for leading all dragonkind to their historical place as rulers of this world.
Many who had chosen not to attend, and some who had finally agreed with pressure, worried that an open meeting was not safe. They wanted to meet in secret, in a cave somewhere. Nethliast would do his business out in the open, or as open as still hiding in human form would allow. The combination of convenience and some unnatural caution that he could not shake forced them to continue to remain in those damnable forms until he could get them all to agree to his plan. Then it would be the end of hiding in the shadows.
He stepped out of the plane into the comfortable Bavarian Summer. Pausing before slipping into the limousine, he inhaled a deep breath of the air he would soon rule. It had been too long since the ancient rulers of this land had come home. At the end of this conclave, he would take it back. No international body of humans would tell him he had no claim on the land his dragon kin had tamed. He could feel the edge of a nagging headache eating away at his consciousness but avoided it by focusing on his plan and not thinking about the past. Over the last few weeks, he had learned that it was a waste of effort to try and recover those fleeting memories. The pain was not worth the results, and what he had found beyond that veil of pain had not changed his mind about their history or the future he saw ahead.
He sat down into the leather seat of the limousine across from Valdiest. Melissa’s father, at least, was no fan of humans and still believed in the plan that had grown from years of discussions over cognac and cigars in Valdiest’s Tennessee manor. Those conversations had involved politically forcing the UN or the EU to respect their claims to ancient Swabia, claims supported by bloodlines protected and documented back to the days before the formation of Spain, Germany and France.
That was before they had emerged. Those bloodlines mattered because they were the pure bloodline of the dragons they were. Humans would not deny their sovereignty any longer. When they stood up and claimed it under the fiery force of dragon might, they would again reign over their birthright and beyond.
Nethliast pounded his fist into the armrest on the limousine door. Valdiest and Gerliast looked up from their repose in the seat near him and frowned. He simply smiled back at them with a childlike excitement while continuing to stir the cauldron of his plan privately in his mind.
The car pulled away from the tarmac and navigated the German streets toward the conference center and hotel. He despised his human form, but there were very few venues that could host dragons in their native form, and there were none that he was interested in meeting in. Since he could not remember where their ancient castles were, and he could not staff them and fill them with food, he had to settle for the best Munich had to offer them on this scale. Another spike of pain threatened, but he avoided it.
Valdiest, who had roused from his restful mode as they approached the hotel, looked troubled, like he wanted to talk. Nethliast had maintained a distance and a professional silence for the two weeks it had taken to organize the meeting, but, with everything falling into place, he could no longer avoid the conversation the old king had on his mind.
“Valdiest, your majesty, something on your mind?”
“Yes, Nethliast, I would like to beseech you to be lenient where my daughter is concerned. She is young and has much to work out. This has taken us all by surprise, and I think it has us a little on the unbalanced side.”
Nethliast dropped his head and looked away from the older dragon. “There is no room for her type of compassion. She’s a traitor. She’s protecting those who enslaved us. She lives among them in the house you should possess. She continues to live her human life, as far as I can tell.” He looked at the Armani suit he was wearing, the car he was in, and suddenly felt soiled.
“And, she kneed you in the eye,” Valdiest reminded him.
Nethliast turned to look at his elder but kept his left eye out view. Any sign of injury had faded, but he could still feel the insult. How dare he bring that up? He had to control this meeting. There could be no sign of weakness, not even a subconscious irritation about some female on the other side of the ocean. He would not have that, not for himself. Let others worry and fret over their mates. He could feel his face burning from the anger.
“You need to be careful what fuel is feeding your anger. I want you to make peace with her.” Valdiest continued to push him, this time making it a command.
“Does she want peace with me?”
“Remember your place, son,” Gerliast growled from the opposite corner of the car. Nethliast bristled at the warning from his father, but said nothing. He was sure there was no way to rescue his reputation with his father but he would avoid damaging it any further.
“She will do what is right for us. We must think of what is best for the race. She will not forsake us for the humans,” Valdiest responded.
“How can you be sure?”
“I’ll not have you speak of her tha
t way any longer. She is my daughter, and I will have you respect her.”
“She is my mate, and I know her better than you.” Nethliast continued to walk the knife’s edge, but he felt he had a point to make.
The limousine pulled into the entrance of the conference center, and Nethliast saw no reason to continue the argument. He needed the older leader with him. He needed his knowledge and guidance. The younger dragons, like the African, Bida, looked up to him. It was important that Bida and the other young leaders see that the elder leaders wanted to move from their safe positions and act. The meeting of the key elder leaders and the new young leaders would set the tone for the conclave. If the elders took as long as they had in the past, they would never win the land back. Some of his supporters were impatient for results but none so much as the partials who were waiting daily for a sign of progress. Again, Nethliast felt a little soiled, but it was a partnership of convenience. He could easily forget it later. The door opened to allow him and Valdiest out, and Nethliast chose that moment to speak again.
“Sire, I will respect your wishes in this. I will do nothing more until after the conclave is settled. Then we will see where everyone stands. Perhaps you’re right. She needs time to see our perspective.” Nethliast smiled at the king and motioned for him to exit first. What his smile hid was his own opinion that Melissa deserved a giant metal spike through her heart for what she had done to him. He would not put up with her ways, and, at the end of this conclave, it would be resolved. He followed the king and his father out of the car and walked beside them into the conference center.
As he walked to the desk to check in, he left Valdiest and Gerliast to tend to their bags; he had work to do. The young woman behind the counter recognized his name, as he expected, and provided him with his key and the schedule for the room he had reserved for the meetings. He had already inspected everything the week before, so there should be no surprises and yet the woman still had one form him.