“Okay,” I whispered. “Not my best idea.”
I stifled my urge to bolt from the cage. The aging belts were still groaning. Sudden movements were out of the question. Gradually, I moved toward the gate. I reached out. It was inches away. Once open, I could jump back to solid ground. But as my fingers gripped the latch, the belts snapped. The cage pulled free—and I plummeted.
Black waves of pain rose as the elevator fell. Both stole my air. Both pulled me into darkness. It was what she’d been waiting for. Taking me by force was the only way. Giving me time, allowing me to make my own choice would get her nowhere.
She knew I would never willingly choose the dark.
I took a few pats of the cushions to convince me I was on my couch and not splattered at the bottom of a mine shaft. Shaking, fumbling for the lamp, I nearly knocked it on the floor as I turned the switch. I hated being so jumpy, yet one good thing had come from my latest nightmare. “I know where it is.”
For the first time, I’d seen more than a room with a door. The tunnels I’d dreamt of were an exact match for Aidric’s underground network. Unfortunately, they were as maze-like in real life as they were in my dream. If the door was there, below the city, it could take weeks or months to check every corridor. And then what?
If I found it, what the hell was I going to do?
I knew one thing I wasn’t doing. I wasn’t taking the fucking elevator.
But could I do it? Could I open the door? The thought terrified me in my dreams. But the nature of the dream-state likely heightened my fear. It also misplaced my anxiety. I wasn’t afraid of a goddamn door. It was the unknown that got my heart thumping, the uncertainty of what might lie on the other side. Whether my emotions were justified or not, though, ignoring the problem wouldn’t make it go away.
And I was damn tired of being afraid.
Swinging my legs off the couch, I stared at the remains of my frozen lasagna dinner on the coffee table. Beside it was a half-empty whiskey bottle. I took a fast drink to combat my dry mouth, as I eyed the numbers on the cable box. 2:25 A.M.
I couldn’t remember what time it was when I got home. After Nadine declined my ride in favor of walking, I hung around a while in the parking lot. I thought about trying to get Nyakree out, about as long and hard as I thought about going to see Evans. Not expecting a good outcome from either option, I left. I spent a few hours monitoring and exploring some of the darker recesses of the city. It was a longshot, but I was hoping I might catch one of Gant’s wolves on the prowl. I didn’t.
A warm shower, some food, drink, and an infomercial later, and I was asleep on the couch. Then, I was plummeting to my death in an elevator. Good times.
Shaking off the image, I moved to take another drink. The rim hit my lips, and I jumped, spilling a few drops as Girls Just Wanna Have Fun blasted up from somewhere underneath me. Chasing the sound down between the cushions of my couch, I retrieved my phone. I was surprised to see Creed’s name at this hour.
“Alex,” I answered, tentatively. “Please tell me this is a butt dial and not another truck full of organ soup.”
“Neither,” he replied. “It’s been a quiet night, for once.”
“Then what are you doing awake?”
“Probably the same thing as you.”
“Drinking whiskey and feeling sorry for yourself?”
“Maybe not.” His tone implied irritation, but I could hear the amusement underneath. “I’ve been going over Chen’s reports again. Of the remains we recovered from the riverbank, those with wounds consistent with canine claws, all had the same bacterial infection. Chen hasn’t identified it, but it must have come from whatever attacked them. I was hoping you could have a look? In case you’ve come across something like it before.”
“Email me the report. I’ll cross-reference it with the samples I have here. Anything else?”
“The mayor’s secretary called after you left. That event we’re expected at is a little more formal than the mayor let on. It’s at the History Museum. I guess they close the place down and deck it out in lights. There’s even an orchestra.”
“Sounds fancy.”
“Yeah, about that,” he said, his reluctant tone setting me on edge. “Looks like we’ll be hanging out with about two hundred of the city’s elite…in costume.”
“In what?”
“Don’t act so surprised. It is Halloween.”
“I forgot,” I pouted, hugging the bottle as I flopped back on the couch.
“How? I’ve been walking into those fake cobwebs at the station for weeks. And don’t get me started on that goddamn pumpkin spice. That shit is everywhere.”
I laughed, but it didn’t stick. “I’m sorry. I don’t do costumes.”
“Neither do I. You know what else I don’t do? Career suicide.” He paused, letting his point sink deep. “I’m not any happier about this than you are, but his secretary said she took care of everything. Our costumes are picked out and they’ll be delivered the day of. The mayor is sending a car to pick us up. She called us his ‘personal guests’. Saying ‘no’ isn’t an option.”
“Dammit, Alex,” I whined. “What about the case?”
“We have a few days. With any luck, it’ll be solved by then.”
“Even if it is,” which I had my doubts, “I don’t understand why you’re okay with this. You do realize there will be people at this party? And costumes? And people in costumes. Including you.”
“I’m trying not to think about it until I have to. But the only person going who matters is Mayor Anderson. He greenlighted the UCU. He can just as easily shut us down.”
Or fire me, I thought. Anderson was already questioning my relevance to the team. A social faux pas might undue everything Oren had done to change his mind. “Fine. I’ll go.”
“Good. The museum was Arno Gant’s last place of employment. Maybe some of his old co-workers will be there. One of them might mention something helpful.”
“You know, you could have led with that.”
“Get some sleep, Nite,” he said and hung up.
After another lengthy, childish groan over the costumed-hell that awaited me, I turned my thoughts back to the dream. I debated its origins, as I picked at the cold remains of my microwaved lasagna dinner.
For as long as I could remember, my nocturnal, empathic visions were regurgitations of my own memories. Every image or event in my sleep was something I’d seen or experienced at some point in my life. Only recently had my dreams branched out into the realm of fantasy, with doors and mirrors and elevators. That didn’t mean they were all make believe. Already, one repressed memory had surfaced. If there was one, there might be others.
And I knew just who to ask.
I didn’t expect Aidric to be forthcoming, but he (more or less) admitted to tampering with my recollection of what happened the day I fought the skelacreen on Drimera. I recalled suffering a fatal wound and bleeding out alone. But in my dream, Aidric was there. He shifted into lyrriken and spoke of some mysterious mission. I was confident, he’d somehow altered my memory to protect that mission. I was far less certain of how, or why, or what else I might have “forgotten”. But I was starting to worry about the frequency with which I dreamt of the door. Though, I didn’t believe one had really turned liquid and reflective, so whatever was on the other side could pull me through, I was positive at least one detail was real. The door itself.
If I was right, I’d forgotten that, too.
I grabbed my phone, scrolled through my contact list and pressed the button. It was four rings before someone answered. “Dahlia. Are you all right?”
At the almost theatrical level of concern in his voice, I took a guess which of the three had answered. “Coen?”
“Do you require assistance?”
“Of a sort. Is there some ancient, medieval-looking door in the tunnels?”
The pause before his reply was unusually long. “Why do you ask?”
“I’ve been getting these
visions. If it’s there, can you take me to it?”
Silence.
I huffed into the phone. “Not answering doesn’t erase my question.”
“I’m aware. But I can’t be the reason harm comes to you.”
“Then, you know what’s behind it?”
And…more silence.
“Never mind,” I said. “I’ll find it myself.”
“And if you do? Then what?”
His thoughts mirrored my own, sending an unpleasant chill up my spine. “I don’t know.” Not expecting him to say anything I wanted to hear, I moved onto the second reason I called. “Can you put Erich on the line? I need to talk to him.”
The illusionist came to the phone a moment later. “You remembered my name? Thank you.”
His gratitude at such a simple gesture stripped the irritation from my voice. “You’re welcome. I was hoping you could help me with something. Ella Chandler’s necklace has helped me see through illusions a couple of times, but I have no idea how to create them. Your ability is different, it’s inherited, but…”
“Are you asking me to teach you?”
“I know it probably oversteps Aidric’s directive, but if he wanted the damn thing, he’s had plenty of time to take it back. Since he hasn’t, I don’t see why I shouldn’t have access to its full power. It couldn’t hurt to have another weapon against the crazy shit going on in this city.”
“I agree. And under different circumstances, it would be my pleasure to educate you in the art of illusion. But rushing into something you don’t understand is never wise. A relationship such as this should happen naturally.”
“I’m not looking for a commitment, Erich,” I barked, imagining him flinching on the other end. “All I want is to learn how to make it work.”
“What you want, and what’s best for you, are not the same.”
I wanted to crawl through the phone and smack him. “If you’re about to spout off again about protecting me from myself—save it.”
“I don’t understand why our concern angers you.”
“Your concern makes no sense.” I ended the call and tossed the phone on the couch. My mind was buzzing. I eyed the time on the cable box a second time. It was hours yet before I had to be at work. Mapping out the tunnels to search for the door on my own was a slow job, but I’d never find it if I didn’t start. And there was no way I was going back to sleep.
My phone buzzed with a text.
“Now what?”
It was Coen’s number. The message was an address followed by a string of emojis: two dragons, footprints, a door, and a thumbs up. The word NOW and a question mark followed.
I sent back a far less creative, on my way, and got dressed.
The glow of the street light lit the man’s goateed face as he crossed the street. Even without it, the balaur’s well-built human form was unmistakable. His gait was confident. As was the smirk on his lips. Though, I’d grown fond of calling this one Teal-eyes, I didn’t mind his chosen name. It suited him.
I didn’t really mind them trailing me from time to time, either. Impatience left me coming across as ungrateful, and their timing was often lousy, but they placed a level of importance on my life few ever had. While it was confounding, no matter their reasons, no matter what they called themselves—together or apart—I felt a connection. And an attraction. One, the intimate nature of my dreams made hard to ignore.
Yet, I couldn’t forget who pulled their strings. I was never sure which actions were of the balaur’s own choosing, and which were the machinations of a dragon king with his own agenda.
Finn slowed to a stop on the sidewalk in front of me. Dark hair blew loose about the collar of his leather jacket. I tried not to notice how the neon sign hanging in the window between us set his eyes to glowing. “I knew it was you,” I said.
“The emojis, right?” he grinned. “I love those things.”
“That, and the all caps. You’re more impatient than I am.”
“You mean decisive.” Finn straightened his jacket and stood tall. “Like all legendary heroes should be.”
I laughed. Dents formed in his brow as he tried to decide if I was making fun of him. Leaving the ‘great hero’ to wonder, I got to the point. “Did you drag me out here to remind me how wonderful you are? Or do you know where the door is?”
“Yes. And yes,” he smiled. “But before we embark on this potentially dangerous path, are you sure this is what you want? Your dreams might be a warning, not an invitation.”
Like I hadn’t debated the same thing a dozen times. “It’s just a door.”
“Then why the middle of the night phone call?”
Unable to answer that, I threw one back at him. “Why sneak out and help me solve a riddle no one else wants to?”
Finn offered a faint shrug. “There’s a tunnel entrance nearby, close to the door you seek.” He pointed to a nondescript brick building down the block, and we started walking.
“Since you’re here,” I said, “do you mind answering some questions?”
“There are many things I’m not allowed to discuss.”
“Right. How about this, then. I make a statement, and you tell me if it’s true or false. If I’m right, you’re just confirming what I already know. If I’m wrong, you don’t have to say anything to compromise your loyalty to Aidric.”
“True or false,” he said, skeptical but intrigued, “like a game show?”
I was starting to think he watched more TV than Evans. “Sure. Like a game show. Ready?” He nodded. “There’s only one door like I described in the entire tunnel system.”
Finn thought a moment before answering. “True. The door is unique.”
“Because of what’s behind it?”
“That’s a question, not a statement.”
With a tight smile I corrected myself. “Behind the door is the first exit to ever open between the linked worlds.”
Finn’s gaze shot to mine. “How did you figure that out?”
“It wasn’t hard. Slapping clues together is my superpower.” When the grin I expected didn’t emerge, I elaborated. “There were hints, here and there. For one, you guys told me the first exit was under the city. You said it was boarded up and then got all enigmatic and weird when I asked a question. Which is how most of our conversations go.”
“I’m sorry. Does that trouble you?”
“If I say yes, will it change anything?”
“No. And I’m sorry for that, too.” Finn studied me a moment. The amusement and desire reflected in eyes didn’t surprise me. The sense of melancholy and hope it faded into was a little harder to understand.
Twenty
It took me forty-six minutes to decide he lied. Not about knowing the location of the door. But the entrance we took couldn’t have been the closest. Finn chose the one he did to spend more time with me. He enjoyed regaling me with his knowledge of TV trivia and recipes he’d memorized off some Food TV channel. I wanted to be irritated at the delay. But his naivety over the offerings of this world was endearing.
My insertion into human life had been less gradual and far less enjoyable.
Hiding in abandoned buildings and dank alleys, stealing scraps from the garbage and clothes from unattended laundromats, I’d spent many days and nights running from every shadow and unfamiliar scent. Coen had been given a slower start, a chance to acclimate and explore, to learn who he was in this world—and who he could be. Discovering the differences in his three forms, letting each undergo their own experiences, had made the balaur stronger as a whole.
Finn finally came to a stop at the head of a dark alcove. A heavy slab of metal was wedged into the back wall. He gestured at it. “As you requested…”
I turned to him. “Umm… That’s not the door.”
“Of course not. Do you hide your valuables in plain sight?”
“Why all the secrecy? What makes this exit so different?
“What Queen Yaslynne did changed everything. After that first
breach, more and more opened, plunging Drimera into a time of great darkness and war. Barricading the exit was a symbol for all the terrible things her actions wrought.”
“Actions she was punished for.”
“A punishment most say came far too late.” Finn stepped toward the metal. He ran a hand over the smooth surface, searching for a way in. “The tribes were in turmoil after Yaslynne’s death. Some wanted to end the line of female rulers and turn Drimera into a patriarchal society.”
“Naalish is still in power, so that clearly didn’t happen.”
“It almost did. A contest for supremacy was held among the eligible males. One rose above all the rest. Bayard, the elder who stood victorious, should have led Drimera into a new age. But he was also at the center of the controversy. He was Queen Yaslynne’s offspring.”
“Aidric told you this?” He nodded. “The Guild taught us very little of her.”
“Then you’re unaware she birthed twins?”
“I didn’t even know dragons could do that.”
“It’s extremely rare. Only a few times in Drimeran history has two hatchlings emerged from the same egg. The female died young, during the wars that followed the opening of the exits. It was said she was unwell, but that the male was born possessing great physical strength and a great heart. He had a love for his mother that worried many. The elders demanded he prove his loyalty was to Drimera and not Yaslynne. So, he carried out her execution.”
“And that wasn’t enough to make him king?”
“Fear of his lineage was too great to put Drimera solely in his hands. Instead, he was mated to a new queen. Their descendant still holds power today.” Finn glanced at me. Expecting to hear ‘Naalish’, I was surprised when he said, “Aidric. To use a human phrase: Aidric is grandson to the queen who linked the worlds.”
Smoke & Mirrors Page 24