by Aaron Crash
The first helicopter struck that cloud at its thickest. The helicopter banked to the right, losing altitude, and Steven could imagine the scene inside, the pilot coughing and the Warlings dying from Aria’s Toxicity Exhalant.
The second chopper continued to approach them directly, but the third helicopter banked to fire at Aria as she ascended. However, her Defensio spells had improved from being around the best Magicians on Earth. The bullets sparked off her shield, and the helicopter righted itself, descending toward Steven’s group on the ground.
Steven had his shield ready for their next barrage of bullets.
One of Tessa’s Peacekeepers thundered, and a polar bear went down in an explosion of pink light. The odor of cherries was thick around him, mixed with the smell of the gunpowder. It was coming from Tessa.
“Those rounds new?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Tessa hissed. “They explode on impact. I like my .45s spicy, like a spicy meatball. Had to Incanto my revolvers as well. I’m Merlin’s daughter, you know.” She stopped talking to take down another polar bear. The courage of the last two broke, and the pair ran south, morphing into wolves as they sped away to a safer distance.
Steven curled his long body around the barista, Zoey, and Mouse, trying to hide the blonde while protecting his Magician and Morphling from Liang Pope and his incoming dragons.
The helicopter hit with the poison gas went down into the ocean. The impact crushed the hull and snapped off the rotors. If the men inside were still alive and coughing, their breathing situation wouldn’t improve any when the Blackhawk flooded.
The second helicopter stopped to hover out of range. Eleven Warlings rappelled down onto the rock ledge. Dark purple runes glowed on both their weapons and their Kevlar.
The third chopper turned, and the gunner opened fire. Steven caught the bullets on his force field.
A spear of purple light broke through that physical shield and struck him, a glancing blow off his forehead. It burned, but it wasn’t a killing blow. There was a Magician up there who could hurl long-distance Impetim spells. For Steven, the helicopter was out of range.
He could play defense, however. The helicopter Magician’s next spear sizzled off Steven’s shield.
A bullet grazed Steven’s leg. Another nicked his ear. He thickened his scales with DarkArmor just in time. The next bullet hit him in the belly; though it hurt, it didn’t pierce his vitals. The eleven Warlings were staying back, not rushing in, because they’d seen what had happened to the polar bear Morphlings.
Aria came flying down on the eleven Warlings, breathing out a white storm of ArcticWind. The subzero exhalant froze a couple and scattered the rest. They brought their guns around, but Aria was too fast. She flew up and bathed the second helicopter in flames, frying the men inside. One passenger leapt for her, a glowing katana in his hand, but he missed and plummeted to the ground.
The helicopter’s gas tank exploded, ending the threat, slaughtering whoever was still inside. The junked-up machine landed in a burning wreck in the tree line.
Aria sailed up through the last of her flames, staying away from the gunners and Magicians inside of the last chopper. She then turned, snaking through the sky, a red slash against the clouds, until she disappeared into their depths.
The dozen dragons, most likely led by Liang Pope, were coming closer, and Steven didn’t want to fight them on the ground. They were too far, yet, to attack. He would have to wait until the very last minute before he executed on his plan.
Tessa touched her earpiece. “Pru and Chazzie are requesting permission to join the fight.”
“Not yet,” Steven said. “Mouse, are you ready?”
“No, I want to stay on the sand, freezing my tits off,” the blonde snapped back.
Steven smirked. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Tessa moved her shields to help Steven with gunfire coming from the north, from the helicopter and the soldiers on the ground. Half-frozen, they’d regrouped and continued to fire on Steven, Tessa, Mouse, and Zoey. No bullet got through, not even the ones that flashed dark purple, obviously imbued with magic.
Steven lifted his head toward the dozen dragons. The first few were beginning to open their mouths, collecting up their Animus to turn it into Exhalants.
“Let’s get ’em,” Steven said. Mouse bounded onto his back, and he took off in a streak of darkness, rising off the beach. The two surviving polar bears saw the break in their defenses and bounded toward Zoey and Tessa.
Those two girls could take care of themselves, without a doubt.
Steven felt Mouse move on his back. She was getting into position.
Raising his head, extending his wings, Steven kept her hidden as he too flew up into the clouds. The other dragons came after him.
There were three bearded males in the V, a purple with red highlights, a blue with black edges to his scales, and a forest green monster with black limbs and tail. The rest were females of various hues.
Steven growled. If only they could stop fighting amongst themselves. Liang Pope had made it clear on the phone that he thought Steven was a dangerous child, a threat to all dragons everywhere. Liang wanted alliances, just not with Steven.
So who else was the PNW Prime working with?
Mouse launched herself off him, and that was his signal. He cast another shield spell to protect against Exhalants, and then stopped flying. He wrapped himself up in his wings, held his breath, and let gravity pull him out of the clouds, directly down into the V of Dragonsouls below him.
He caught Inferno on his shield, adjusted it, then saved himself from a blast of ArcticWind. He flipped through lightning, ducked ShadowFlame, raked his claws down a dragon’s chest, and spun away. Toxicity clouded his eyes, but only for an instant, as the wind and Exhalant exhibition swept the poison gas away. A blue dragon tried to bite through his throat. He twisted about and thwacked her away with his tail.
Because of his force field and his much-improved flying abilities—thank you, Aria—he fell through the enemy dragons without a scratch. He continued to plummet, and they dove after him.
He had a vague sense of Aria circling back to help Zoey and Tessa. Zoey was tangling with the polar bears, getting scratched, but holding her own. Tessa knelt, shield up, stopping the bullets from tearing them up, but a few of the Warlings in black Kevlar, radiating purple magic, were running toward her. One had a compound bow with a purple arrow nocked. That couldn’t be good.
The wind whistled through Steven’s ears.
Mouse came out of the clouds like a slim missile in her Homo Draconis form, entering the fray.
Then a flash from below. An emerald green flash. A Homo Draconis soared up from the trees—wait, that was Sabina. She flew higher, higher, until she was above the purple-red male. Then Sabina shifted into a full-sized dragon for the first time. She was fifteen feet long, and while most of her scales were a shining green, her tail was a gleaming white.
Sabina had done it. She’d achieved True Form. With devastating effect. She dropped onto the enemy male, clawing him, before she sank her fangs into his neck. He was done for.
Suddenly, unexpectedly, a hole opened in the blue-black dragon’s chest. Gore exploded out of the wound. A female dropped from the sky, her skull a mess of splintered bone and ruptured brains.
Chazzie and Pru had come equipped with two Barrett M82s, .50 caliber, semiautomatic sniper rifles. In their Homo Draconis states, they could handle the weapons and the recoil from a standing position.
Mouse threw the Slayer Blade into the chest of another female. Yes, it was a risky tactic, yet Mouse was as deadly without her sword as she was with it. She turned True Form to shred another out of the sky, then shifted human. She ran across the corpse of her latest victim, then hurled herself back into the air. She landed on her first kill and plucked the sword out of the dead dragon’s heart before flipping off the thing. She shifted Homo Draconis to go soaring away. Her amazing aerial acrobatics removed three enemy dragons in
mere minutes.
Liang Pope’s flying phalanx was broken.
Steven rolled out of his fall and went gliding over to help Tessa and Zoey on the beach.
Six of the Warlings lay dead, but five had reached Tessa. One held a gun to the barista’s head. Zoey had dismantled the polar bears, and their corpses lay on the sand. But she too had a gun to her head. She stood naked, in her human form, trembling. Dammit, both the Magician and the Morphling must’ve run out of Animus. Sabina had warned him Liang Pope’s Warlings were some of the best in the business.
Aria lay in a heap at the edge of the ocean. The surf tumbled her human body up and down across the sand. Steven wasn’t sure what had happened, but she wasn’t conscious. Out in the waves, the ocean slammed the third helicopter into one of the outcroppings of shit-stained rocks.
Fear gripped Steven. Liang Pope’s forces had overwhelmed them.
While half of the enemy dragons had been slain—Mouse took out three, Sabina killed one, and the twins shot two through the heart—the other six landed, including their leader, the forest green dragon with the black scaly appendages.
They stood on the beach between their prisoners and the wooded hillside. The lone remaining male roared, “Steven Drokharis! Stop! Or your wives die!”
Sabina had transformed back into her partial form, but she wasn’t a good enough flyer to come out of her dive. She was going to be killed in the fall.
Steven had to land. He had to give in to Liang Pope’s demands; otherwise, he’d lose more wives.
Sabina had flown into combat, knowing her odds were iffy.
The despair of losing her struck Steven.
He landed on the beach, still a dragon, to stand about twenty feet from the bastards holding Tessa and Zoey hostage.
He’d been the bait, the diversion, and so he’d not made a kill. He felt empty of Animus. Desolate.
The skies opened, letting loose the rains.
Chapter Ten
STEVEN SHIFTED INTO his Homo Draconis form. He gripped Samael’s Lash still in its sheath.
Above, Mouse saved the day. In the air, in her True From, she raced and caught Sabina. Both hit the trees and went snapping through the pines. They’d be hurt, but most likely, they’d both survive.
That was a relief. But Aria lay unconscious on the sand, pushed and pulled by the surf. And Warlings had Tessa and Zoey. Each of the Warlings holding them were bulked out by DragonStrength, and when they adjusted their grip on the women, they blurred with speed—SerpentGrace. These were high-level mystical soldiers with large Animus reserves.
The green-black dragon shifted into an Asian man who was immediately drenched in the rains. Liang Pope had sparse facial hair, but the inky mop on his head was full and long, maybe a little shaggy. He was a compact, muscled man.
Behind him stood a wall of his dragons. One of his wives shifted into a brunette, beautiful, with deep laugh lines around her mouth. Her small nipples pointed skyward above her flat stomach. She bent and retrieved an ornate dagger from a bag she’d been carrying. She then stood, waiting for something.
No one was talking. The remaining four dragons were breathing heavily from the exertion of the battle, and Steven could feel their heat. It kind of felt good in the cold, misting rain.
“You should’ve joined me,” Steven said to the PNW Primacy’s Dragonlord.
Liang frowned, his eyes cold. “Why? I have other allies now, one who is so powerful he can tell me where you will be and what I need to do to defeat you.”
“A little to the left,” Tessa muttered.
Steven couldn’t be distracted. “Did Spider Finger contact you?”
“Very powerful allies.” Liang snapped his fingers. The brunette came forward with the dagger, facing Steven.
“I will need you human, and I will need your arm. If you cooperate, we will not kill your women.” Her voice quivered, just a bit. She was afraid and trying to be strong.
She should be afraid. If anything happened to Tessa and Zoey, Steven would butcher every last one of them. His grip on Samael’s Lash tightened.
Zoey let out a cry. The skin on her face furred over, but the man behind her had her by the hair. “Tell her if she shifts, I’ll kill her.”
“Zoey, stop!” Steven called out.
The bear girl froze, but tears trickled down her face. “Tell me when, Steven, and I will fight them. I will die for you.”
Steven wished his wives would quit saying that. They’d nearly lost Sabina. This whole situation was intolerable. He gave Zoey a long look. He hoped it told her everything she needed to know.
“A little to his left,” Tessa repeated.
Liang frowned. “Why does she keep saying that? And yes, tell your Morphling bitch she needs to stay human. And you need to become human as well, Mr. Drokharis. Or everyone dies. My long-fingered friend assured me that you would comply.”
Steven kept all emotion off his face. It was Spider Finger. Supposedly, a finger on his left hand had two extra joints.
“Just a little to the left.” Tessa got her leg stomped for saying that. She grunted from the pain and went to her knees. Her hair hung in her face, but there was a fierceness in her eyes, focusing on Steven, pleading for him to understand.
Steven shifted human. He still held Samael’s Lash, sheathed.
Why was Tessa saying that? He didn’t know, but Aria was hurt, and he would simply have to trust the barista. He took a half-step, coaxing his enemies to shift left.
“Imogene,” Liang said to the naked brunette with knife. “You know what we need.” He reached out, and one of his men hurried forward.
The Warling walked behind his master and went to one of the dragons, a yellowish-orange female with a bracelet pouch attached to her wrist. The Warling eased a scroll tube out of the leather and then walked it over to Liang. He shook the paper out and unrolled the scroll.
Steven wasn’t sure what was going on, but that paper looked ancient. Even though the rain swept down, that paper didn’t get wet, and the ink didn’t run. It was pretty fucking obvious that the PNW Prime was about to cast a spell.
Steven took another half-step. The pissant Warling behind him knocked him on his head.
Tessa didn’t speak. She didn’t need to. Her eyes were on Steven, glued to his face.
Imogene stabbed his arm, and his blood flowed onto the blade.
The yellowish-orange female opened her fanged maw and roared, “Magica Incanto!” The paper in Liang Pope’s hand blazed with a foul orange light.
Tessa breathed, “Behind you.”
Steven turned, taking another little half-step as he did. The orange radiance was reflected in the Americos Chamber. Near the half-submerged cave, the world had turned a putrid burnt color, like a rotten orange turning brown.
The dagger flashed that decayed tangerine color. Both his blood and the blade burned away in brown foul-smelling smoke. The hilt, handle, and butt also evaporated.
Steven dove into the sand, rolled to his left, and came up on one knee, casting away the sheath and freeing his sword. He shouted two things at the top of his voice, “Excrucior!” and “Zoey, now!”
“Kill them a—” Liang never finished the order. His head exploded as a .50 caliber went through it, basically decapitating him. Steven didn’t know if it was Pru or Chazzie who had taken the shot, but the man holding Zoey also didn’t survive the machine-gun twins.
The battle devolved into chaos.
Zoey became a nightmare of muscle, fur, fangs, and talons. She roared into a Warling who might have been fast but wasn’t fast enough to avoid her jaws. She tore out his throat and most of his chest.
As for the soldier behind Tessa, a second after Steven screamed Excrucior, the Warling had the tip of Steven’s sword-whip chain through his eye socket, punching through his skull.
Steven whipped the sections of his sword—steel-edged dragon scales connected by a cable—into the Warling that had hit him, lopping off his head. He felt the energy of both kil
ls coalesce inside him, filling him with Animus for a moment, but then a cold feeling shuddered in his belly. That Animus was dissipating quickly. He felt all the energy flow out of him. Agony flowed in. It wasn’t like in the Dragonknight Chamber. This was different. And it wasn’t ShadowStrength. No, Liang Pope and his scroll had done something to Steven. He was basically human again. He forced himself to ignore the pain in his gut.
Imogene tried to run. Steven kicked her legs out from under her. One of Liang’s other wives swiveled, striking the brunette with her tail. Friendly fire. She fell unconscious.
The yellowish-orange female opened her mouth to breath out an Exhalant. These women weren’t going to go down easily, unfortunately, or maybe they hadn’t realized their Prime had been executed in front of them.
Either way, Steven shouted, “Magica Defensio.” He felt his belly fill with ice, and the pain blinded him for an instant. He couldn’t cast spells because he had no Animus. All of it was gone.
With no time to wonder, he flicked out the whip and caught the female across her face.
She was driven back, roaring.
Tessa’s Peacekeepers fired around him, dropping Warlings, but those last four dragons weren’t going to relent. And from the south, racing toward them, were six Humvees, late to party, but if they were full of Liang Pope’s men, it was time to run.
Another of Liang’s dragon wives breathed lightning, but Tessa had cast a shield spell and caught the blast.
Mouse, holding a very human Sabina, flew over them, and in the distance, two bubble-gum pink dragons with gear in their clutches raced in.
“Pax Aeternam!” Steven collapsed his sword back into a blade and collected the sheath. Then he lifted his arms. Pru dropped her duffel of weapons onto the beach. She then plucked him from the sand while Chazzie dropped her own bags to collect Tessa. Zoey raced after them, and they hit the shoreline.
Behind them, the world became fire, smoke, and devastation. Whatever had been in Chazzie’s and Pru’s bags had exploded like a miniature nuclear bomb. The enemy dragons were thrown back, any surviving Warlings went down, and even the Humvees in the distance stopped their engines.