by Aaron Crash
Steven imagined what Tessa was seeing … two giant dragon people, one huge and black, the other smaller and colored a striking firestorm red.
Unfortunately, Steven’s Animus was running out. Holding the Homo Draconis shape was taxing him, and his reservoirs of the energy weren’t as deep as Aria’s. Perhaps as he gained levels that would change.
With a gasp, he changed back to being human, the scales and claws drawing into his body as his limbs shrunk. He fell to his hands and knees, trying to catch his breath. Aria, still half dragon, crouched next to him and traced her claws up and down his back. They felt so good, easing the terrible itching. There was less pain from his bones reshaping, and he could see how he could get used to it in time.
He glanced up and gazed into Aria’s bright green eyes. Somehow, she managed a very lizard-like smile. “You are stronger than I thought.” She changed back into her human shape. The effects were almost immediate. Claws retracted into fingernails, skin replaced scales, and hair grew over her head as her face flattened until she regained her human beauty.
She continued to caress his back. “You are doing well, Steven. I can’t imagine what you are feeling. I spent my entire life growing accustomed to the Animus and using it to change my shape. As children, our kind derive Animus from our parents, through their love and caring—though only in small doses. It’s not until we can fight and mate that we truly seize power.” Her eyes flashed as she spoke.
Steven rose and took Aria in his arms and kissed her. The electricity between them sparked up at once and her energy filled him, but it wasn’t going to be good enough. He’d depleted himself, and there was only one surefire way to get more back without any enemies to face.
Steven picked her up and took her to the bed. He kissed her as he laid her on the bed. He found himself between her legs, brushing his sex against hers. He wanted her.
But Aria stopped him. “Not yet, Steven. I can’t … not with you. Well, not until …” She trailed off, face flushed. Instead, she slid down, kissing her way down his chest and belly. On her back, with him over her, she took his stiff member inside her warm, wet mouth.
Tessa came around and got on the bed with them. Kissing Steven, touching him, she gave him her Animus as well. Steven’s hands drifted down Tessa’s body to the patch of hair between her legs. She was soft and wet there.
Tessa in front of him, Aria under him, Steven never had a chance. Both the women pushed him over the edge. The pendant glowed as, breathing hard, his mind whirling from the intense pleasure, he collected more Animus from their sexual energy.
Both of the women were hot as well, so Steven gave up on leaving the hotel room right away. He had to take care of their needs, first Aria’s, then Tessa’s.
After more sex and showers, they dressed in their new clothes.
Steven felt clean and powerful, and he buzzed with curiosity. He was close to finding the first clue about who he truly was and where he’d come from.
To the west, the peaks of the Rocky Mountains touched the sun as it slowly set, leaving a chill. Luckily, they had bought warm coats at Macy’s. Aria wore another colorful dress but accented it with a black camisole and a leather jacket. Tessa was in ripped blinged-out jeans, boots that came up to her knees, and a black sweater with one sleeve longer than the other. As for Steven, he wore jeans and a white linen shirt, just like the man from his dream.
Aria drove like she wanted to outrun the sunbeams that gave the passing farms and fields a soft glow. They buzzed down a back road, and the Indian woman deftly avoided potholes and passed the few cars on the road. The narrow strip of asphalt ran parallel to the shining waters of the St. Vrain River. Tessa, in the back, chattered nervously about this and that, mostly about the fact that she couldn’t believe that dragon people existed. And—maybe even more importantly—that she was having sex with them.
Steven could understand; it blew his mind as well. He had to concentrate, though, on the pendant map. It glowed in front of them. His black dragon icon drew closer and closer to the flames burning next to the river.
Steven tried his mother again. Most likely, her supervisor hadn’t given her his message. The home phone rang and rang, but no one picked up. Dammit, his nagging worry was turning into cold fear.
“We should expect trouble,” Aria said during one of Tessa’s lulls. “Whoever is trying to kill you will only be upping the ante. They might not know where we are, but then again, they might. So keep your heads about you.”
“Roger that, General,” Tessa said nervously. “I’m not really the fighting type, but I can warn you guys if I see anything.” Then she went quiet for so long, Steven turned and made sure she was okay.
“Are you good?” he asked.
She nodded, chewing on a fingernail. “Yeah, I … just … you guys know what you are. But me? What am I? I can feel the Animus in me, and when we have sex, my eyes glow. I’m kind of torn. Part of me wants to be normal so I can go back to a regular life when this is all over. But then … maybe some part of me wants to be special too.”
“You are not simply human,” Aria said in confirmation of Tessa’s suspicions. “I expect all of our questions will be answered in time. Ah, we’ve arrived at last.” She pointed.
A tower rose from yellow fields of dead grasses and the ancient cottonwoods hugging the banks of the St. Vrain River.
Aria turned and drove to a gate at the end of a weedy dirt driveway.
All of them got out. Their boots crunched on the gravel. They smelled cold sage and the dank odor of the riverbank. The wrought-iron gate was as rusted as it was ornate. Spiderwebs, old and new, covered the scrolling metal. The gate was attached to a thick cinderblock wall topped with razor wire.
The grounds around the tower had become a tangle of undergrowth, though at one time they would’ve been beautiful. Lost in the grasses, weeds, and sagebrush were dry fountains and crumbling retaining walls. The round citadel dwarfed most of the bare-limbed cottonwoods around it. Three trees, however, stood taller. The fortress was six stories, at least, and was mostly concrete, but near the top were the remains of stained-glass windows, most broken, though a few were still intact.
The very top of the tower was flat but had four animal heads carved out of marble facing the four cardinal directions.
“Marble and stained glass?” Steven asked in wonder. “Who in the hell lived here?”
“Yeah, if this is a grain elevator, it’s the fanciest fucking grain elevator in all of creation,” Tessa agreed with a bob of her head.
“It’s an Aerie,” Aria whispered. A chill wind blew, and she grasped her coat tighter around her. Then she drew her pistol, disengaged the safety, and quickly checked the chamber for a round. Cool, practiced, efficient.
Steven gripped the broadsword in a sweating fist. He pointed to a sign on the front gate obscured with weeds. He went forward and used the blade to clear off the yellow-and-gray tangle.
A single word in the scrollwork made him shiver.
Drokharis.
TWELVE
The sun was gone. The wind was cold. The light was gray and growing dimmer.
Steven pointed at the word. “What does this mean, Aria? In my dream … my vision, I guess it was … I heard a name, Stefan Drokharis.”
Aria stepped forward, frowning. “It’s an old Dragonsoul family now gone. I remember the name Drokharis from my studies, but I can’t recall specifics. The Drokharis lineage had a grand tradition like the Tudors in England or the Medicis in Italy. The last of the Drokharis clan died out mysteriously.” She paused, gaze flashing toward him. “None remain.”
A sadness filled Steven, and he wasn’t sure why. Imagining his dad as some kind of king made him smile. Joe Whipp was a lot of things—gambler, asshole, absentee father—but he wasn’t royalty. As for Steven’s mom? Florence Whipp? Yeah, Joe and Flo Whipp, not exactly the stuff legends were made of.
Thick chains kept the gates closed, blocking their way.
Tessa stepped forward a
nd picked up the giant lock in a small hand, her chipped and chewed fingernails painted black. “So, I’m guessing neither of you have a key.”
“I can help with that.” Aria raised her muscular arm; her skin became scales and her fingernails claws. A dark energy surrounded her hand as she brought her three-inch talons down through the lock. She ripped the lock into pieces that tumbled to the dirt. Normal claws wouldn’t have been able to do that, but that shadow energy had imbued her with a powerful force.
Aria grinned. “Soon, you will master your skills, Steven, and you will be able to do that. That and more.”
Steven blinked.
“Come on, my dragon-y friends,” Tessa said, pushing the gate open. The hinges creaked loudly in the chill hush of twilight.
“Friends or lovers?” Steven asked, a quirk of a smile on his lips.
“My dragon lovers?” Aria rolled her eyes. “Sounds like a bad erotica novel.”
“An awesome erotica novel!” Tessa protested.
The three stopped bantering as they walked through the gates and past the sage and weeds of the courtyard. Huge double doors blocked their way into the tower. Big iron rings hung from fittings in the central panels, and the entrance would’ve felt at home protecting a Bavarian castle. What was such a fortress doing in the boonies of Colorado?
Aria tried her shadowy claw trick again, but her nails only left deep scars in the wood.
“The place is magically protected.” She squinted her eyes as she studied the door.
Steven fished the pendant out of his shirt and held it aloft. A click echoed through the courtyard. Bolts slid from behind the wood, and the doors creaked open on rusted hinges, revealing the darkness of the hallway beyond. It felt like a haunted house ride at an amusement park. Classic and creepy.
Steven gulped. The whole place had gone quiet—no birds, no wind, a preternatural hush surrounded them. He gripped the broadsword tighter.
“Don’t suppose you brought a flashlight,” he said.
“As a matter of fact, I did.” Aria reached into her coat and came out with a mini Maglite. She clicked it on, and the beam cut through the gloom, showing granite tiles dusty with time.
This was it. This was the next stop on his grand adventure. And, fortunately, no one was trying to kill him. Yet.
He stepped in, breathing hard. Sweat dripped off his face.
Lights winked on. Not torches, light bulbs. The hallway led to a round living room with a kitchen off to the side and a bathroom. The place had furniture: a big sectional sofa, dark wood bookcases, a dining room set with twelve chairs around a mahogany table. But everything was slashed apart, the books ripped open like dead birds, the walls burned. One section of bookcases was melted as if someone had splashed it with acid.
Skeletons, long moldered away, lay on their stomachs, arms outstretched as if they were trying to crawl to safety. The place was in ruins, the leftovers of a battle, decades old.
“What happened here?” Tessa squeaked.
“The downfall of the American Drokharis Primacy it looks like,” Aria replied in a whisper. “Though in the histories I read, the Drokharis Dragonsouls preferred to be Ronins. A few had Primacies, but they were a clan more interested in sorcery than conquest.”
Steven cupped a hand around his mouth and called out, “Stefan Drokharis! Stefan Drokharis! Are you here?”
Nothing answered them, though ceiling lights above the stone staircase winked on, spiraling upwards. Steven’s pendant radiated light and heat. It grew so hot that Steven had to keep it off his skin.
“Looks like we go up,” Tessa said. She put a foot on the first step, then retreated behind Steven. “Uh, Dragonsouls go first. Baristas go last. So we’re around to make coffee at the funerals.”
Steven laughed at that one. Even though the place gave him the creeps, he couldn’t stop now. And he wasn’t going to let Aria go first. While she had her secrets, he didn’t think this was about her. No, this was about him and his past.
And his future.
The second, third, and fourth floors were bedrooms and bathrooms and pantries with small kitchenettes connected to them—all as sumptuous as the suite they were staying in at the Marriott. But like the living room below, these rooms were torn to pieces. A wide brown stain marked one Persian carpet under a small skeleton, probably the remains of a woman, given the size of the body. And that stain? That stain was long-congealed blood without a doubt.
The sixth level had been a library with two studies attached to it. The bookcases were bare, the papers scattered and mixed with leaves. The stained-glass windows were only jagged bits of glass in the window frames. More of the acid had eaten away the stone walls. A desk lay like a BBQ briquette in the middle of a burned-out study.
Dragon fire, certainly.
As they walked up through the levels of the tower, lights flashed on as if by magic. Or maybe they were connected to motion detectors, which was probably more realistic. Then again, his sense of what was realistic had changed drastically in the last couple of days. The lights of the library were small recessed bulbs scattered in a pattern across the ceiling, but not a pattern Steven recognized. A lopsided polygon led to a line that circled around the ceiling but not in a spiral. The line of lights just kind of meandered.
He’d hoped to find answers in the tower, but they’d explored every room, and all they had found was the signs of a violent struggle that had taken the lives of dozens of people decades ago.
Standing by the barbecued desk, Steven turned to Aria. “There’s nothing here.” He pulled up the map, and his black dragon icon was standing right in the middle of the flames by the St. Vrain River. He pointed. “See, I’m right here. Maybe my real parents just wanted me to see where they were killed.” He paused, taking a long look around. “Maybe we should just go.”
Tessa screwed up her face. “Dude, give up much? Haven’t you seen National Treasure? Or like any movie ever? No, it’s going to be a puzzle. We just have to figure it out.”
Aria walked under the pattern of the ceiling lights. “Wait, that’s a constellation. Draco.”
Tessa sighed. “I wish I knew my stars. That would be so cool. Did it take you long to memorize the night sky, Aria?”
The Dragonsoul smiled impishly. “I hardly know the sky. But as a dragon, we are required to at least know that one constellation.”
An idea hit Steven between the eyes. “We’re not done yet. The top of the tower. We have to get to the top.”
They went back to the staircase, but there seemed to be no way up. They returned to the damaged library
“I bet you a million dollars there’s a secret door,” Tessa said. “We just have to trigger it.”
Steven walked quickly to the only bookcase that hadn’t been destroyed. The carpet had long burned away, revealing a scorched hardwood floor covered with leaves. He brushed some of the debris away with his boot, and he saw a half-circle marked into the floor. It was from the bookcase swinging out. But how to activate it?
A metal sconce for a candle jutted out from the stone.
He and Tessa exchanged glances. “You don’t think …” she started.
“Well, I’ve seen that movie,” Steven said. “Or was it a Scooby-Doo episode?” Either way, he pulled the sconce down, a mechanism behind the wall groaned, and the bookcase swung open, revealing a set of stone stairs leading upward.
Tessa suppressed a giggle. “Can I just say that this is the greatest moment of my life? We found a secret passageway.”
“Total cliché,” Steven said. “The candleholder? The bookcase? Duh.”
“Lucky for us it was cliché,” Aria said. “I would not want to be here all night trying to find a way to the top of the tower. I would imagine we have a more difficult puzzle ahead of us. We do not have any idea of why we are here or what we are looking for.”
“I think we’ll know when we find it.” Steven started up the stone steps. The passageway was narrow but thankfully short. They came out of a do
orway and found themselves on the flat top of the tower. A four-foot parapet wall ran around the roof, and the marble creatures he’d seen from below each sat in their own corner. Up close, even in the dark, Steven could see what the animals were.
There was a dragon, of course, a kind of wolf creature, an eagle with is wings back, and a cat with one paw out as if to scratch someone. Each statue was about five feet wide and ten feet long and extended outward from the wall. Each had a door in the back. They’d come out of the dragon door.
His pendant glowed, giving them light, so they didn’t need Aria’s Maglite. Steven headed across the tower and tried the other doors; each was made of heavy wood with a brass handle, tarnished and weatherworn.
“Do you think there are other secret passageways?” Steven asked.
Tessa shrugged. “Could be. But I think this is where we need to be.”
Eyes glittering, Aria nodded but didn’t say anything. Her face was serious.
Night had fallen. In the distance, they heard a car whoosh by on the highway. Mostly, though, all they could hear was the St. Vrain River trickling, running shallow since it was only early April, and the snow in the Rockies hadn’t melted that much. Another car rushed by. This one seemed to stop, or at least slow down.
They went to the edge of the tower and looked down. Steven expected to see police cruisers, or black government Humvees, or a truckload of thugs with broadswords. But all they saw was Aria’s car in the driveway, lots of grass and sage, and an empty road. The vehicle must’ve kept on going.
Steven turned and walked to the middle of the rooftop. Tiles made up a mosaic, but the sun, rain, and snow had washed out their colors. Maybe that was the key?
If so, that clue was so gone.
He took the pendant off and held it up. Then he saw it, sparkling on the floor: certain tiles in the mosaic gleamed in a polygon connected to a meandering line. Draco, the constellation.