She shook these thoughts away and reminded herself again she was no longer a child. Instead of going through the main doors for the floor seats, Dr. Dreyfus led her to the left, to the stairs that led up to the boxes. “Is anyone else coming?” she asked.
“No. My godfather keeps the box all season long. He said I can use it when he’s not going to.”
“Your godfather is Councilman Lintner?” she asked. She thought of what Lintner had said to her at the Plaine Museum about girls coming around with “a bun in the oven.” Dr. Dreyfus didn’t seem like the sort of person to have a godfather like Lintner, or sleep around with a bevy of women. It was not something Emma wanted to bring up at the moment, not when so much had gone wrong already.
“That’s him. He’s running for mayor right now, which is why he doesn’t need the box.”
Emma nodded. “My friend works for his campaign.”
“What a small world,” he said.
She nodded again; it definitely seemed that way sometimes. Dr. Dreyfus froze as they entered the box. His face had started to turn a bit green around the edges as well. “Are you all right?” she asked.
“I’ll be all right.” He put on what was obviously a forced smile. “I don’t do well with heights. That’s part of why I became an archaeologist. Usually you’re digging into the ground.”
She laughed a little harder than she intended at this. “We can sit in the back,” she said. She pointed to a row of seats near the entrance.
“I wouldn’t want you to miss anything.”
“As long as I can hear the opera it’ll be all right.”
The added benefit was Emma wouldn’t be able to see the orchestra pit, especially whoever played the cello. This, along with Dr. Dreyfus being so close, helped to calm her down. Then the opera began with a roll of drums and the curtain rose on three women sitting beside a cave. They were the Norns, who at the moment weaved a rope of destiny. As they began to sing of past, present, and future, Dr. Dreyfus leaned over to Emma. "What are they saying?" he asked.
She translated it for him; she had learned German when she was four. She translated for him about the hero Siegfried leaving his love Brünnhilde to visit Gunther, lord of the Gibichungs. There Gunther's half-brother Hagen slips Siegfried a potion so Gunther might have Brünnhilde to himself. At the end of the first act, Siegfried captures Brünnhilde, taking the cursed ring from her and dragging her back to Gunther's palace.
Throughout all this, Dr. Dreyfus listened like a good student without interrupting her. She hardly flinched when he leaned closer to her and put an arm around her shoulders. She kept the narration going; she hoped her face didn’t look too red. It was the first time a man had touched her like that and she had to admit the warmth of his arm around her shoulder felt comforting. She began to wish the night would never end.
***
Intermission finally arrived and they had to separate. She leaned closer to him than she had before as they went down the stairs to the lobby. “Would you like something to drink?” he asked. “Nonalcoholic of course.”
“Just some water would be fine.”
“I’ll be right back.”
While she waited, Emma leaned against the wall for support and so she could go unnoticed. Most of the people in the lobby were much older than her, many of them closer to Mrs. Chiostro’s age. It felt like the high school cafeteria again.
That changed when a woman glided up to her. She was blond with breasts ready to pop out of her shimmering black dress. She had the taut skin of a woman who had seen quite a bit of plastic surgery to hide her age. Behind her were two very large men who looked uncomfortable in their tuxedoes.
“Hello,” the woman said in a husky voice. “My name is Lydia Schmidt. I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”
“No, I haven’t been here since I was little,” Emma said almost in a whisper.
“That couldn’t have been too long ago.” Lydia Schmidt laughed hoarsely at her own joke. The men behind her remained impassive, as if they were statues instead of humans. “What do you think of the opera so far?”
“I really enjoyed it.”
“Yes, they do a good job here. I watched Madame Butterfly in Detroit a few months ago and it was awful.” She leaned close enough that her breasts brushed against Emma’s dress. “That is such a beautiful dress you’re wearing. I must get the name of your designer.”
“I don’t really know,” Emma said. She didn’t think this was the type of woman Mrs. Chiostro would like to associate with.
“I remember seeing a picture of Lady Robinson in something like it. She didn’t make it look that good.”
Emma didn’t know what to say to this, but was saved when Dr. Dreyfus returned with a tumbler of water for her. He pressed this into her hand and then leaned protectively against her other side. “Are you ready to go?” he asked.
“Yes,” Emma said. She summoned the courage to say, “It was a pleasure to meet you.”
“Who was that?” Dr. Dreyfus asked on the way up.
“I don’t know,” she said and hoped she wouldn’t have a chance to find out.
Chapter 20
They settled into their seats for the second half of the opera. Since Dr. Dreyfus had rescued her from Lydia Schmidt, Emma didn’t mind when he leaned against her again. Their heads almost touched as she began to translate for him.
For the final act, Hagen and Gunther take Siegfried on a hunting trip, where they literally stab him in the back. They return the body to Gunther's great hall, where Brünnhilde arranges for her former lover to be burned on a pyre by the Rhine. After the hero's body burns, Brünnhilde takes the cursed ring and promises it to the Rhinemaidens after her body too is burned. Then she rides her horse into the fire.
“This is really beautiful,” Dr. Dreyfus said. “Almost as beautiful as you.”
She could feel herself being drawn towards him, to kiss him on the lips, but then she heard Marlin’s voice hiss, “He’s here.”
She pulled away from Dr. Dreyfus; she already knew who Marlin meant. Was the Dragoon planning to blow up the opera house to draw her out into the open? Or maybe he hoped to take a few wealthy patrons captive to use as bait.
“I need to use the restroom,” she said to Dr. Dreyfus.
She didn’t go that far, just out onto the stairs where she could talk to Marlin without Dr. Dreyfus thinking she was a lunatic. “Where is he?”
“I’m not sure yet, but I tracked him here.”
“Any idea what he’s up to?”
“No, but I’m sure it won’t be anything pleasant. Better ditch your boyfriend and go suit up.”
“Dr. Dreyfus isn’t my boyfriend. And I thought you said I wasn’t ready to fight the Black Dragoon yet.”
“You don’t have to actually fight him. Just keep him from killing everyone in here.”
“Right.” She looked back towards the box. “You try and find him. I’ll try and get Dr. Dreyfus out of here.”
She hurried back into the box. He looked up at her with concern. “Are you all right? You look like you saw a ghost.”
“I’m not feeling well,” she said. “I think that duck is starting to disagree with me.” She tried to smile when she said this, but he still winced.
“Did I do something wrong?” he asked.
“No, it’s nothing like that.”
“If I made you uncomfortable, I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s nothing you did. I don’t feel good. That’s all.”
As they continued to argue, Emma saw where the Dragoon had hidden himself. Thanks to a number of wealthy patrons, the Rampart City Opera Company could employ state-of-the-art special effects, which included the use of pyrotechnics. This included a very realistic digital fire that consumed the bodies of Siegfried and Brünnhilde. Thereupon the Rhine began to rise, bearing something large and black on a wave. It was supposed to be the Rhinemaidens, but Emma saw in actuality it was the Black Dragoon.
“What is that?” Dr. Dreyfus ask
ed.
“We’ve got to go,” she said. She seized his arm and yanked him towards the door. There wasn’t a panic yet; the patrons probably thought it was artistic interpretation.
She managed to push Dr. Dreyfus through the door when the panic began. The Dragoon leaped from the stage, up to a box across from Emma’s. She watched helplessly as the Dragoon killed the two men who had been with Lydia Schmidt. The woman he seized in one clawed hand. He disappeared through the rear door of the box, but she already knew where he would go: the roof.
By the time she got Dr. Dreyfus downstairs, people had flooded the lobby. It was anything but an orderly evacuation. She held him back to let a throng of people by. One of these was an elderly man, probably about Mr. Graves’s age, but not nearly in as good of shape. He couldn’t keep up with the crowd and would have been trampled if Emma hadn’t reached out to take his arm and pull him back.
“Thank you, young lady,” he said.
“You’re welcome.”
“It looks like we’re stuck,” Dr. Dreyfus said. “What the heck is going on?”
“Some thing jumped onto the stage. Some kind of monster. It’s going to kill us all!” the old man shouted.
“Calm down,” she told him. “It’s not a monster. It’s a man in a costume.” She couldn’t stand here; it wasn’t likely the Dragoon would stay on the roof for long. He might have already wired the place to explode or he might have some other nasty surprise in store. It would be best for all of them not to find out.
But as they began to make their way through the crowd, the old man’s breathing became rapid. With his free hand he clutched at his chest. “I think he’s having a heart attack,” she said. “Let’s get him to the bathroom.”
The old man passed out on the way there, but she could still hear him breathing. No one was in the men’s room at the moment, which didn’t come as a surprise. Emma and Dr. Dreyfus set the old man on the floor; Dr. Dreyfus balled up his jacket to use as a pillow.
“Stay with him,” Emma said. “I’ll call an ambulance.”
“Wait—”
“I’ll be all right,” she said. She leaned in to give him a quick peck on the cheek. “Trust me.”
She didn’t actually call for an ambulance; she didn’t have the time. She did the next best thing by grabbing an usher by the front of his shirt. “There’s an old man having a heart attack in the men’s room,” she said. “Call for an ambulance. If you can find any aspirin, give him some right away.” The usher nodded and then she barged into the ladies room. It was thankfully unoccupied as well. She locked the door behind her to make sure she wasn’t interrupted.
“How does this go again? Mekka lekka weep ninibaum?” This worked as it had back at the Sanctuary; the red case appeared at her feet. She stripped off the red-and-gold dress so she wouldn’t ruin Lady Robinson’s gown. She put on the red-and-gold armor; it was surprisingly comfortable even in her bra and panties.
Marlin appeared as she’d put the helmet on, for which she was grateful, not ready yet for him to see her mostly naked. “I found him,” he said.
“He’s on the roof, isn’t he?”
“How’d you know?”
“Just a guess. What’s he doing up there?”
“He’s got Don Vendetta up there for a friendly chat.”
“Don Vendetta? That woman—?”
“Who else runs around with bodyguards like that?”
“Good point,” Emma said. She shoved the red case into one of the stalls and then dropped out the window.
***
As Marlin had said, the Dragoon was up on the roof of the opera house. Their chat didn’t appear to be entirely friendly as the Dragoon had Don Vendetta pinned to the roof with a spike that went through her skirt, narrowly missing her legs.
With the cape around her body, the Dragoon couldn’t see Emma as she started across the roof towards him. The Dragoon remained focused on his prisoner. “I know who you are,” he growled. “You will turn over your organization to me or you will die.”
“You think my people will take orders from a freak like you?”
“They will after they’ve seen what I’ve done to you.” The Dragoon brandished the claws on his right hand. “I could kill you as easily as swatting a fly.”
“Just like those punks in the park, right?”
“Very good. I knew you were smart—for a woman.”
“Yeah, it wasn’t too hard to figure out. Nothing that big happens here without my say so. I run this town. I’m practically the goddamned mayor.”
The Dragoon nodded at this. “And that is why I have allowed you to live this long. Turn over your organization to me and I’ll allow you to remain in charge as a figurehead. You may continue your petty enterprises, but your soldiers will be at my disposal.”
“The last man who thought I was his puppet wound up floating at the bottom of the harbor,” she said.
“I am far more powerful than your puny husband was. As you can see.”
Emma continued to make her way towards the Dragoon during this exchange. She filed the information away for later—if there was a later. Beneath the cape she took hold of the Sword of Justice. It would require split second timing, but if she dropped the cape and pulled the sword at the same time, she could maybe jam it into his back. Marlin would tell her to aim for a vital organ, but she could probably incapacitate him without killing him.
“I will give you ten seconds to make your decision,” the Dragoon said.
He had hit three seconds when Emma dropped the cape and pulled the Sword of Justice from its sheath. The Dragoon moved faster than she had anticipated, so that the blade raked across his side. She ducked in time to avoid the claws that would have taken off her head.
She brought the Sword of Justice around; this time it clipped him in the left leg. The Dragoon howled in pain, but before she could try to finish him off, he lifted his right foot slightly. With this he fired the spike on the end of the foot into her left calf. She screamed and went down in a heap.
The Dragoon stood over her, his claws aimed at her head. “Foolish girl,” he said. “Didn’t that ghost of yours tell you that you are no match for me?”
“I’m not going to let you kill anyone else,” she said.
“You have no choice in the matter.”
Before the Dragoon could fire the claws, Emma began to roll to her left, wrapping the cape around herself as she did so. She continued to roll until she reached the edge of the roof. The Dragoon swiveled his head around, but lowered his claws.
Meanwhile, Don Vendetta took this opportunity to tear her skirt away from the claw that had it pinned. “See you around, shithead,” she said. The don flipped the Dragoon off before descending a ladder along the side of the building.
The Dragoon ignored her to focus on Emma. She didn’t try to get to her feet yet; she crawled forward while keeping the cape around her body. “There’s no point in trying to run, girl. I will destroy you sooner or later. You must realize that.” Emma came to a stop on the roof. She put the Sword of Justice back into its sheath and then began the painful process of trying to free the black spike from her leg. “You are even punier than your predecessor. He at least had the courage to face me.”
She bit down on her lip hard enough to draw blood and then yanked the spike out of her leg. She tucked this into her sword belt and then tried to get back to her feet. Pain shot through her leg, but she managed to stand up. The smart thing to do would be to slide down the ladder as Don Vendetta had done and get out of here so she could heal. Marlin would certainly tell her to do that.
But wounded as she was, there was still a chance she could end this right now. She only needed to get close enough to the Dragoon again. She dragged her left leg a little, but gritted her teeth and pressed on.
“Come now, girl, why do you believe their lies? They tell you they fight for justice, but what have they ever done? This city is worse than ever. There is only one way to truly bring justice to this city
and that is my way. I will bring these animals under control and then I will remake the world.”
The pain in her leg helped her to keep her from replying to this, as she was too busy trying not to scream to worry about saying anything. She continued to edge closer to him while he stood perfectly still. He probably hoped she would do something to reveal herself as in the sausage plant.
“You don’t have to die,” he said. “Give me the armor and I’ll let you live. You can go back to your pathetic life and end this charade.”
Again she didn’t answer him. She didn’t bother to circle around to attack him from the rear this time. She slipped the Sword of Justice from its sheath and clutched it tightly in her right hand. Then she braced herself for how much this was bound to hurt.
After she counted in her head to three, she dropped the cape and threw the Sword of Justice into the air at the same time. Before the Dragoon could react, she launched herself. She kicked him squarely in the midsection with both legs. She let out a scream of pain at this, but it had the desired effect of getting him down on the ground.
Through the haze of pain she maintained control of the Sword of Justice and brought it to hover with the point touching the Dragoon’s neck. One little push and it would all be over. She scrambled to her feet and stood away from him to make it more difficult to use his claws.
“It’s over,” she said. “You’re finished.”
“What are you waiting for?” Marlin hissed in her ear. “Finish him.”
“No,” she said. In a louder voice she said, “Take off the armor and surrender. I’ll turn you over to the police.”
The Dragoon only snickered at this. “You haven’t won.” The Dragoon’s eyes began to glow red, becoming so bright Emma had to turn off the night vision to keep from being blinded. She wanted to turn away from those horrible red eyes, but couldn’t.
Tales of the Scarlet Knight Collection: The Call Page 16