Memory of Dragons

by Michael G. Munz

  Austin ducked. A flashlight beam shone over the rise by the bridge across the moat. Whoever it was must have traversed the lawn at a jog. Austin pressed lower, hesitated, and then held his breath to submerge up to his eyes. He tried to not slosh the water with his shivering.

  Above them, a masculine figure crossed the bridge, silhouetted behind the directed glare of the flashlight. He climbed the stairs up the motte without stopping. Austin didn’t move until the light disappeared through the gate of the keep.

  “Going to take a look at the roof first, I suspect,” Corinna said.

  “He’ll be down here next.”

  “Let’s vanish while we’ve got the chance.”

  “And come back later? We can hide down in the — ”

  “Nope.” Corinna stood. In one hand she held his waterlogged pack, in the other, the still-faintly-glowing crystal. “Now hurry, before he gets to the roof!”

  Austin had to take care to avoid losing his shoes in the mud as they clambered out of the water. He hesitated with a final glance at where Fefferman had fallen. Only colorful rags stained with traces of sludge marked his remains.

  Corinna tugged at him to continue. They dashed up the steep grass incline to the top, pressed their backs against the keep, and edged toward the gate. She peered toward the keep doors over the stone wall framing the steps. “All clear.”

  They’d not taken three paces under the archway when Austin grabbed her arm. “Wait here!”

  “Wait — ? Austin!”

  Austin turned around, clambered back over the wall, and then hurried once more down the motte toward Fefferman’s remains. The uneven ground harried his footing. More than twice he nearly stumbled head over heels, but momentum and the fear of being spotted from above kept him from slowing.

  He reached the rock where Fefferman landed. Grimacing, he fished into the thiesm’s fouled garments, found what he was searching for, and rushed back to Corinna. Her glare melted into grudging relief when he showed it to her: Fefferman’s key to the subterranean door out of the keep. They were back in the tunnel a minute later, the crystal’s glow lighting their way.

  A hurried search of Fefferman’s hovel turned up assorted stones, a collection of gloves exclusively for the right hand, and various odds and ends. No gomlens. Any that might remain were still in the thiesm’s satchel, which likely lay at the bottom of the moat.

  “Think we ought to go back and look in an hour, when it’s safe?” Austin thought the idea foolish even as he floated it.

  “He sounded like Maeron might know where we are, or where he died.” Corinna shook her head and heaved a sigh. “We don’t even know if there’s anything useful left in there. We need to go.”

  Without another word, she moved into the passage out. Austin followed. She paused at the exit, peered to either side, and then motioned him on. Together they trotted through the shadows across the bridge and out of the park on the far side from the castle grounds.

  “Let me know if you start hearing Maeron’s voice in your mind,” Corinna told him. They had paused on a street corner and waited in the darkness to cross.

  “He can do that?”

  “He did it to Rhianon, the morning she left Bath. It might be possible to force him out if he does, but I’m not sure. He stopped abruptly at the time — I don’t know if he meant to or had to. It’s not a magic I know enough about to be sure.”

  “You couldn’t speak in someone’s mind yourself, then.”

  “I have some ideas. But no, probably not. Not over distance, certainly. Come on.”

  The light changed. She led him across the street past a pub where a boisterous group exited singing about what Austin guessed was the local football team. Corinna took his arm and guided him through, keeping them close.

  “Four years later and I’m in the same position I was before,” she said once they had passed.

  He squeezed her arm in his. “Not the exact same.”

  She squeezed back.

  “Well!” she said. “Last time, I took a train. No sense being predictable, aye? The bus station’s nearby. Here’s hoping we’re lucky with the timing.”

  “So where are we going?”

  She didn’t answer until they were out of earshot of passersby. “London. Shh.”

  Austin didn’t think it would be possible to catch an evening bus from Cardiff to London. Britain’s public transit system surprised him. As Corinna had hoped, they succeeded with the timing. Their bus left the station not ten minutes after their arrival, its seats peppered heavily with other travelers of assorted ages.

  The pair spoke little on the near-four hour journey. “Not here,” Corinna would whisper whenever he tried asking why she had picked London. There was little to do but sit and wait as questions piled up alongside the small talk that Austin was too anxious to engage in for long. The bus’s constant rumble beneath them proved hypnotic despite his apprehension. Upon their arrival at the London terminus at midnight, each had caught the other nodding off more than once.

  “We need to find a place to stay,” Corinna told him. They were hiking through the station in search of the exit.

  “I was afraid you’d say we need to keep moving.”

  “We’re still untraceable for at least another day. Four hours out of Cardiff is likely enough to allow us a little rest.”

  “And then will you tell me why we’re here?” Austin asked, opening the station door for her. “It’s not just because it’s four hours away, is it?”

  “It’s not. And I will.” She puffed up at non-existent bangs again and looked either way along the street. “This way.”

  They crossed the street and shuffled their way down another six blocks before arriving at a narrow, three-story hotel pressed up against a pub.

  “I have one vacancy,” the matronly night clerk told them. “But one bed in it. Will that be acceptable?” Their hesitation was palpable enough for her to add, “I have a small bed I could wheel into the room for you if you would prefer.”

  Tired, they agreed. Corinna paid cash for the room. Pleasantly clean but cramped, it boasted only a double bed, an antique wooden nightstand, and a matching armoire with a mirror on one side. The remaining space was nevertheless large enough to accommodate the small folding bed, which the clerk brought with numerous apologies for its condition.

  “We only have two,” she explained. “The better one is with a charming married couple who had to bring their ill little girl along on holiday, the poor dear.”

  “It’ll be fine, thanks,” Austin told her. He locked the door after she left, and then turned to regard the folding bed, which he judged closer to a sheet-covered mousetrap than a means for a restful night’s sleep. “I’ll take the small one.”

  Corinna looked it over. “I can take it, it’s alright.”

  “No, I’ve got it. I once slept in a cot in a physics lab for a month straight. I’ll be fine.”

  “You’re sure? It’s no trouble.”

  He eyed the rusty bolts holding the metal frame together and tried to recall his last tetanus shot. “I’m sure.”

  “Absolutely — ” Corinna fought and lost a battle with a yawn. “ — certain?”

  “It’s just for one night.” He sat. The frame protested. “In exchange, you can tell me why we’re in London.”

  Corinna lay back atop the bedspread, eyes closed. She grinned and snuggled her head back into the pillow. “Because we took the bus. Pay attention, Austin.”

  He couldn’t suppress a smile. “Come on. Please.”

  Her grin faded. “Because I’m worried. Fefferman said you were linked to the crystal.”

  “But we already knew that, didn’t we? Boden talks to me, he can’t talk to you.”

  “It was strong enough that he could see it. I don’t know a lot about thiesms, but I don’t think he’d be able to spot it if it weren’t something stronger than a casual connection.” Her eyes were open now, watching him. “And he did call it an anchor.”

  Austi
n shifted and acknowledged the memory. “I think I’ve been trying not to think about that.”

  “Hate to say it, but I don’t think we’ve got that luxury.”

  “But, anchor how? Am I anchored to him? He to me? Both? If the crystal gets too far away, is it going to rip out a piece of me?” Austin wasn’t sure if he meant it literally or figuratively and decided he liked neither.

  “Or you’ll rip a piece of him. I don’t know. It sounded like Fefferman didn’t either. Both ways are bad, if that is the case. Rip him and, maybe, it breaks him out of the crystal. Rip you, and, well.”

  “Anything to offer on that, Boden?” Austin asked.

  “I am at least as in the dark as the ill-fated thiesm.”

  Corinna sat up, cross-legged. “Even if it’s something else, the fact that it’s so strong . . .” She shook her head, which tossed her curls along her jaw line. “We can’t let it be. Which is why we’re in London.”

  “So there’s something here that — ”

  A rusty shriek cut him off: the bed collapsing under him. The frame clanged onto its own legs and snapped one folding bar outward, which flung a nut across the room. The nut ricocheted off the armoire and disappeared somewhere on the floor. Austin sat folded up in the thin mattress like meat in a taco. He had barely regained his bearings when another part fell off the back with a punctuating clank.

  Corinna collapsed, laughing, onto the pillow.

  Austin struggled to free himself. The frame creaked in anguish. “I can maybe fix it if we can find where that nut went.”

  Corinna wiped a tear of laughter, smiling compassionately. “Oh for goodness’ sake, Austin, just get up here. Sharing a bed won’t kill us.” She giggled again. “So long as it’s not that bed.”

  “I, ah, may be a little stuck.”

  “Doesn’t want to let you go, eh?” She crawled forward and took his hand to pull him out of the wreckage. He extricated himself with Corinna’s assistance and climbed up to sit on the far more stable bedspread. Corinna knelt casually to face him with a smirk. “You were saying?”

  He smirked back, momentarily distracted before he could remember. “Actually, I think you were about to tell me what’s in London that can help us with this whole anchor issue.”

  Corinna nodded, then answered, “A hope. We didn’t come from Rhyll entirely empty-handed. One of the things Tragen brought with him was a book. It was penned by the Sentinels around the time Aurkauramesh’s sealing was weakened, when the Draig Crystal was created. Tragen hid it when he started to suspect Maeron had turned on us. “

  “But you know where it is.”

  “Aye. It’s possible Maeron does, too, which is the problem.” She was silent for a moment, her blue eyes watching his. “At least that’s why Rhi didn’t go and get it. Too much risk that Maeron might try to catch her there. But now I don’t see as we have a choice about it.”

  Austin hesitated between hope and fear. “So it might be a trap.”

  “Aye, it might. But if the book is still there, we have to try.”

  “If? So it might not only be a trap, but Maeron could have it already?”

  “It’s a tad more likely than not that he doesn’t know where it is, and he’d have trouble getting to it discreetly even if he does.” She gave a wan smile. “I hope.”

  “Alright.” Austin took a breath. “So, we get this book and figure out how to fix this anchor situation. What’s the plan after that?”

  “Let’s concentrate on this, first.”

  “I’ve got a dragon spirit anchored to my mind. I’m trying not to concentrate on it.”

  “I know.” She slid her fingers into his palm and squeezed. Though not as comforting as her laying out a complete course of action might have been, it helped. Her touch was soft, and warm.

  “Trust me,” she told him. “Rhianon was a magical prodigy, and I’m the cleverest woman in Ireland. Or the cleverest Irish woman in England, anyway. We’ll do right. Let’s get some rest.”

  Minutes later they lay close in the darkness, lightly but modestly clothed under the covers. Austin watched the ceiling as Corinna faced away on her side. He could feel her warmth and the weight of her body on the mattress beside him.

  “I haven’t . . .” he found himself murmuring, but stopped.

  “Hm?”

  He had been about to say he hadn’t shared a bed with anyone since Rhi passed. “Just mumbling.”

  “Mm. Austin?” she teased after a breath. “If they ask, I’m blaming the broken bed on you.”

  Later, Boden woke Austin only a few minutes before Maeron would knock on the door.

  SEVENTEEN

  “He is coming,” Boden insisted. “A powerful pool of magic approaches. I am certain it is him.”

  Austin shot up to sitting with his heart pounding in his ears. The clock read 4:32am. “How close?”

  “Quite. Likely in the building already, and growing nearer.”

  He stifled the urge to ask why Boden could sense Maeron now and not previously. There wasn’t time. He shook Corinna awake and relayed the warning.

  “How?” she shot, anguished. “We need to run.” She flew to the window, only a section of which opened. It was close to the ceiling and too narrow to squeeze through even if they could reach it. She spun, eyes darting about the room. “If we go out the door, we’ll run right into him.”

  “Confront him. You’ve no alternative!”

  “We’ve got the crystal,” Austin whispered, struggling for ideas. “We could try making a stand here. End it now.”

  “How many guests do we put in danger with a fight, Austin? And even if I can beat him, what if the crystal shatters from the magic that fight would take? We can’t risk it.”

  “What if we take him by surprise?” Damn it, why hadn’t they planned something in advance?

  “He is on this floor!”

  “Bollocks!” She beckoned rapidly. “Come here!”

  Austin obeyed. She put one hand on his forehead and motioned with her free hand, her eyes closed in concentration. He felt rather than heard the sounds she whispered. At once, something changed. Austin could not tell what. His heart still raced.

  Three knocks shook the door. Paced. Deliberate. Shit!

  Corinna tugged him out of his panic, pointing to the armoire mirror. In it, Austin saw a different man where his own image should have been: a full head taller, bearded, with muscles straining against a thin t-shirt and sweat pants.

  “Illusion,” Corinna whispered. “Bluff!” She kissed his cheek suddenly and then backed out of sight as the doorknob began to glow.

  Bluff?!

  With no time to think, Austin seized the knob and threw the door open. Maeron stood there, arm extended where the outer knob had been pulled from his grip. The two stared at each other in the dim hallway light. Austin’s mind seized up as the moments slipped away.

  “What?” Austin finally growled. His voice had deepened.

  Maeron blinked as a genial smile seemed to force its way to his face. He brought his hands behind his back and tipped up on his toes with a momentary glance into the room beyond Austin. “Good morning, sir. I apologize for disturbing you — ”

  “What d’you want?” Austin demanded. He forced himself to reshape the worry pounding through his heart into genuine anger — anger at being cornered, at what Maeron had done, at the position he now found himself in. That his voice was not his own somehow made the transference easier. It brought to mind a middle school gym teacher who reduced to tears at least one student per week. He took the memory for inspiration.

  The other’s smile hardened. “Are you alone?”

  No. Wait, yes! “What the hell business is it of yours?”

  “No need to be uncivil.” Maeron took a breath. His gaze narrowed. “Did you arrive in London last night?”

  Austin hesitated, and then seized upon an idea.

  “Now you’re asking?” he tried. “You with that redhead on the bus? You’re all following me, aren’t yo
u?” Austin pushed forward a few inches. Maeron’s arms remained clasped behind his back, and Austin did his best to watch for a change while fixing the man with the most intimidating stare he could muster. He reminded himself: this guy tried to kill Rhi! Anger boiled upwards. Austin clenched his teeth to keep it in check.

  “A redhead?” Maeron asked with a measuring gaze. “Accompanied by a brown-haired man?”

  Austin rolled his eyes and pushed the door closed with an, “I don’t have time for this!” which he only got out halfway before Maeron caught the door.

  “Answer the question, please.” Threats rode the edge of his tone. Though Austin was hoping for the question, he didn’t need to fake being intimidated.

  “Yeah,” he stammered, then shored up his composure with a mental picture of the physique Corinna had made him appear to possess. “Got real nosy about where I was going. Kept whispering and pointing at me on the bus.”

  “And did they come with you all the way to London?”

  Austin shook his head. “Thought I might have to do something about ‘em, but they got off. In . . . Swindon it was.”

  “You’re certain?”

  “I don’t like people getting nosy about my business!”

  Maeron appeared to force a patient smile. “You’re certain?”

  Austin clenched his jaw. “Certain as I am you’re gonna be sorry if you don’t leave me the hell alone! What’s with this country?”

  Maeron’s glare turned icy. “So you say.” Austin saw uncertainty lurking under the ice.

  “Heed this: tell him you know he’s not a guest and to leave the hotel, now, before you call whatever authorities patrol this place,” Boden told him. “Swiftly!”

  Austin pulled the door wider. He puffed out his chest, hardened his glare, and whispered from low in his throat, “I’m done answering. You don’t got a room here. Get out now or I call the cops and hold you down ‘til they show.” His throat grew warm as he said the words, as if he had swallowed whiskey. The sensation faded as quickly as the sound of his voice in the hallway.

  Maeron only stared, unmoving, back at Austin. Austin’s jaw tightened as he willed the man to leave. He tried channeling the mental image of not only his old gym teacher, but every bully, every policeman, every bar bouncer he had ever met at the height of their intimidation. The space between them grew so quiet that the electric buzz from the hallway lamps practically screamed in his ears.