Smoke & Mirrors

by C. L. Schneider

  “Don’t presume it hasn’t been,” Aidric stiffened. “But even dying worlds still spin. And I’m not ready to write this one—nor Drimera—off, just yet. Which is why, the lesser threats must continue to be dealt with. Ignoring them would only increase the danger to those you’re so eager to save.”

  I looked back at the boy’s body. Trauma swarmed over his still form, swishing and gliding like hungry serpents. It wanted me to feel, to know. But I’d felt enough pain for one day. “Fine,” I said. “But can we do this somewhere else?”

  Aidric’s gaze flitted to the boy. “You find his ghosts troubling?”

  “I find them all troubling.”

  “Come.” He turned and led me down the hall. “The queen has done something I don’t agree with.”

  Weary sarcasm darkened my laugh. “Welcome to the club.”

  “If she’d been forthcoming, I would have voiced my objections, along with the tribes. Which is why she conducted the operation entirely without consultation.” Aidric entered the kitchen and made himself at home. Turning the handle on the blinds to open the slats, light from the street lights peeked in from outside. He moved to one of the cabinets and retrieved a bottle. From another, he took two glasses. Bringing it all to the table, he poured us each a drink and sat.

  I hovered in the doorway. I’d almost forgotten, to him, this wasn’t just the “Murder House”. It was the home of his daughter and his adopted, human grandchildren. I wasn’t sure if they were close, but he’d been here enough to know where the liquor cabinet was.

  Had the fierce dragon king joined the Chandlers for Sunday dinners? Did he read to the kids before bed? Were those the memories his mind resurrected when he walked in?

  They must be, I thought. If he saw them as I did, we wouldn’t still be here.

  Aidric gave me a funny look, as if my hesitation confused him.

  I surrendered and moved into the kitchen. “When I said ‘elsewhere’ I was hoping for more than ten steps away from the nightmare in the other room.”

  “We will deal with what transpired there shortly.”

  “Discuss, then deal with?”

  Aidric lifted my glass in reply.

  I took it and drained the contents. “From what I hear, Naalish seems to be consulting the tribes less and less these days.” I sat across from him. “And, apparently, you.”

  “Naalish doesn’t need permission. Only obedience.”

  “She makes that damn hard to give, doesn’t she?”

  A faint grin twisted his lips. Aidric removed his hat and placed it on the table. “You think I’m here to conspire with you to overthrow Drimera’s throne?”

  “You’re here to conspire about something; to recruit me for an off the books mission you can’t risk assigning to a real operative. One that involves a black market, perhaps?”

  Aidric’s lips pursed. He swirled the liquid in his glass. “Naalish, and her arrangement with Gant, is out of hand. She’s turning Drimera’s human population over to that…” pausing, he took a swig, “atrocity of a man.”

  “Turning them over? You mean, she shipped them here?”

  “No. Gant keeps very little of his product on this world. Most are transported to a holding facility until their worth is determined and they’re ready to be—”

  “Slaughtered? Gutted? Chopped into pieces and shoved in a freezer?”

  Aidric’s eyes were disapproving over the rim of his glass.

  “Sorry,” I said. “It’s an ugly business run by an even uglier man.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “I was planning to move on him the night of the auction. If you give me a time and place, so I can do a little recon, I can better formulate a plan.”

  “Regrettably, that information is not at my disposal. I distanced myself from the Market’s operations long before Arno was born. I’ve always believed its breadth of power to be a dangerous thing. By robbing Gant of his product, however, you will be directly diminishing that power.”

  “I like how that sounds. But if you aren’t in the loop, then you don’t know about Ronan?” Aidric raised a curious brow, confirming my hunch. “Naalish didn’t kill him, she installed him in Gant’s organization. He was meant to be a go-between, but from what I’ve seen, she fried him worse than Brynne.”

  “What a shame. While there is a need to ensure order and discipline among the wayward, I find the queen’s methods have become unnecessarily barbaric.”

  “Ronan was your operative. If I bring him to you, can you help him?”

  “If Naalish has truly broken him, I know of no way to reverse it. And he is far from the first. Of late, her regimens have ruined far more operatives than they’ve repaired.”

  “And you’re all right with her destroying their minds?”

  “Ronan’s condition disturbs you, Dahlia. I understand that. But it can’t be helped. And we’ve gotten off track. Right now, Gant is holding his entire stock in a single location. If we wait until the auction to recover them, those that haven’t been chopped into pieces might already be transferred to a newly constructed site I have no knowledge of. You must act soon.”

  “Don’t take this the wrong way, but when did I become your go-to girl? You have lyrriken loyal to you. Send them. Hell, send Coen. He loves doing your bidding.”

  “I’m coming to you, because you have a special interest in the outcome of this mission.” Aidric paused, ensuring my attention. “The humans delivered to the Market include a group of females who were abducted several months ago by a recently deceased, mutual acquaintance.”

  “Bastian.” Another name fled my mouth with more excitement. “Marnie.” Nadine’s intel was partially right. The dancers weren’t on Drimera. But they weren’t dead. “Throwing those girls away seems shortsighted—for a dragon.”

  “Indeed. Many see the deportation of human females in their prime reproductive years as a step too far. Already, Naalish decides which elders cross the exits and how often. If this continues, Naalish will effectively control the number of lyrriken born into each tribe.”

  “You sound a little bitter. Are you sure you’re not here to conspire?”

  Aidric chuckled softly. “Not today.”

  “Okay. I’m in. Where am I going?”

  “To a world on the brink of death.”

  “And why wouldn’t it be,” I sighed, pouring myself another drink. “This blight-shit really gets around.” Lifting my glass, I muttered, “Slow moving problem, my ass.”

  “Much of it collapsed long ago, but your assumption of the world’s ultimate downfall is correct. It will soon be incapable of supporting life. Then Gant will transport his stock to a new, secret facility. Once that happens, our opportunity to put a dent in the Market will be lost.”

  “I’m all for leaving him with nothing to deliver to his clients. But I intend on making more than a dent.”

  Aidric offered a small smile. He wasn’t endorsing my plot, but neither was he warning me against it. If I succeeded, it would piss off the queen to no end, and that he was okay with.

  “This game you and Naalish play,” I said, “it’s like walking on eggshells sprinkled over a minefield. Don’t you ever get tired of it?”

  “To remain king, to retain my power, I cannot denounce her openly.”

  “Innocent creatures are dying. Someone has to rein her in.”

  “The queen believes we are on the cusp of a fatal imbalance. If the land isn’t purified, it will crumble.”

  “Is she right?”

  “I believe, she fights the wrong enemy.”

  “The blight. It’s spreading faster, isn’t it?”

  “Faster than we’d like…or predicted,” he admitted. Aidric took a long, slow sip. It was a clear indication the topic was closed for discussion.

  It wasn’t, but I moved on. “What happens to the humans after the rescue? Some of them were born on Drimera. Others have been gone from this world for decades. You can’t drop a group of missing people back into society. T
hose movies never end well.”

  “I’m aware of the dynamics of reintegration. There are human colonies on other worlds. Coen will find one to accept them.”

  “What about resistance at the facility? How much are we looking at?”

  “Minimal security inside. Outside will be your biggest hurdle. The last remaining indigenous species resides near the entrance, so watch your surroundings. There are upwards of a hundred and fifty being held in containment. You will need help managing such large numbers. Coen will assist you.”

  “You’re sure Marnie is there?”

  “One of the dancers is dead. An unfortunate accident, I’m told. I have no name or description. The only way for you to learn the fate of Marnie Evans is to see for yourself.”

  I said nothing. The bastard had me by the throat.

  “Since Bastian kidnapped those women without proper protocol, I will allow her—and only her—to stay. Though, I assume that was your plan all along, with or without my approval,” he added with a wry smile.

  “Casey’s sister will keep her mouth shut. You have my word.”

  “I need more than your word, Dahlia. I’m giving you the means to find the girl. You must give me something in return.”

  “Here we go…”

  “There’s a creature at Gant’s facility, an old baku who was caught in the raid on the human village. I want her returned safely to me. Do so, and the sister may stay.”

  “I see. This was never about saving the humans.”

  “It’s about more things than you have need to know at this time. The creature’s name is Mirda. She is a long-time ally—a former subcontractor, if you will. We still trade favors, now and then.”

  “And you owe her one? Or you want her back because she owes you?”

  “A little of both.”

  “Baku are dream-eaters, right?”

  “That is the ability her kind are known for.”

  But not the one you want her for? I wondered, the king’s word choice catching my attention. “I thought baku died young.”

  “You know dragons are not the only ones to spin myths as a means of protection. Baku can live for hundreds of years. But while their abilities expand dramatically with age, many of their population suffer a rapid decline similar to human dementia. It’s a weakness they prefer not to be common knowledge. A small number, like Mirda, are immune to the condition.”

  “Immunity and super abilities? She sounds like a useful connection.”

  “I have many connections on many worlds, Dahlia. Contacts and associations can often prove far more valuable than an arsenal or a lair full of coin.”

  “You sound a lot like Oren,” I said, deciding to do a little fishing. “I’d say you rubbed off on him, but he’s always claimed to be more of a queen’s man than a king’s.”

  “Oren may prefer Naalish, but he serves the throne of Drimera—as all lyrriken do. Present company excluded,” Aidric said with a tilt of his head in my direction. “Your choices are influenced by nothing but your own mind.”

  “Are they?” I reached inside my shirt for the pendant. “I’m pretty sure I’m wearing this because you wanted me to. You chose me to guard the eye. You thought, with my ability, I could learn to wield your grandmother’s power.”

  “I did,” he said, not even blinking at my knowledge of his familiar connection to the piece.

  “See, I have a problem with that. I wasn’t empathic until the night I left Drimera. Yet, you set your sights on me before then. You came to me, that day on the riverbed, when I fought the skelacreen. Then you erased my memory of the entire thing. Why?”

  “How much of that conversation have you recalled?”

  “A little.” His stare was penetrating. “Some. Okay, hardly any. The point is, you picked me to guard the eye before my abilities emerged. How?”

  Aidric finished his drink and shoved the empty glass away. “The young lyrriken you were, the one who fell into the nageun pit, was not the same one who came out. You were terrified, malnourished, yes, but I’d never seen an apprentice so driven, so determined to succeed. In the face of all that had befallen you, all the misgivings of the Guild, you accepted nothing less from yourself than perfection. But at night, in your dreams... All those emotions, all that pain you locked away, escaped.”

  “My nightmares.”

  “You couldn’t have known, but those initial ‘visions’ were a sign. Their repetitive nature, so focused and vivid, so crammed with emotion; it’s how the mental abilities of female dragons first appear. It’s how Yaslynne’s abilities appeared.”

  Fury tightened my voice. “If you knew, if the Guild knew, why didn’t they tell me? Why didn’t they train me?”

  “Mental gifts are rare for a lyrriken. It was unclear when, or if, you would amount to anything useful. You were watched. Tested. Your night visions monitored. But as Naalish took interest in your skills as an executioner, my involvement became difficult to explain. I had no choice but to back off. I certainly never expected your ability to spring to life in such an inconvenient manner.”

  “Inconvenient? If I knew what it was, none of this would have happened; the execution order, the running, the years of seeing that girl’s face in my dreams. I could have stayed, damnit. I had a life before that night. I was happy on Drimera.”

  “You were ignorant,” he snapped. “And you know it.” Aidric straightened his coat with a firm tug, putting his anger away. “I thought, possessing the organ might coax your ability out. But when events unfolded as they did, there was no time to put the eye in your hands before you fled Drimera. After, it wasn’t safe.”

  I clutched the pendant. “This isn’t the first dragon part to be preserved. Why all the secrecy? Why go to such lengths to protect it?”

  “Yaslynne had the most controversial reign of any elder. For a time, simply speaking her name was forbidden. No piece of ‘she who opened the exit’ was to survive. When Naalish learned of the eye’s existence, and its whereabouts…” Aidric’s gaze drifted around the shadowy kitchen. “We know how that ended.”

  “Does she know I have it?”

  “It’s recently come to her attention, yes. And the initial emergence of your empathy scared her enough. Now…”

  “I scared her? It wasn’t fear in her voice when she sentenced me to death.”

  “You must understand, Dahlia. Yaslynne ripped open the very fabric between worlds with a power like yours. Naalish believes it to be the cause of the instability in Drimera’s energy. Her call for your execution was based solely on fear and survival. Thankfully, her attention has wandered to more pressing concerns.”

  “The blight.”

  He nodded. “But don’t think Naalish has forgotten you. Dragons forget nothing.”

  “Except when it pleases them.”

  Aidric conceded a grin and stood. “We need to act quickly, if you’re going to save those bound for auction.”

  “Aren’t you forgetting something? A boy died in the next room. Someone’s son is dead because the thing you said isn’t here—is. Please tell me you have a plan?”

  He stared at me a long moment, expressionless. I knew better. Plenty was going on inside his head. “We’ve found one thing to keep it at bay. Dragon fire.”

  “We can burn it? Then why the hell haven’t we? Why did we sit back and let all those other worlds die?”

  “We didn’t. I didn’t. But it’s not that simple. Each time we burn the black away, it comes back. It may be hours, days, in some cases years, but it always breaches the exit again. It always comes back more aggressive and resilient, until it’s impossible to destroy.”

  “It builds a resistance. It’s fighting back.”

  “Oh, the blight, as you call it, is extremely adaptive. With each new environment, each new world, it mutates to attack the strongest, or most threatening, indigenous organism first. Then it works its way down the food chain. We know its primary diet is living tissue, plant life, and nutrients in the soil. Over time, it lear
ns to eat faster and through harder materials.”

  “It sounds like a weapon, tweaked to hit specific targets.”

  “It would be easier if it was, if there were a monster behind the curtain. But this is a natural, organic predator. It devours and conquers, but it’s not malevolent. It’s no more sentient than a virus.”

  “You’re acting like it can’t be stopped, like this will be the end of all worlds.”

  “Some of our best minds have been on this for decades. Each time progress is made to treat the injured or clear the soil, the blight returns, showing signs of adaptation. Once it covers wide swatches of land, the chemical it releases begins to poison the air to a point we can’t reverse. For now, all we can do is slow the progress.”

  “Any idea how it started or where it came from? Knowing its origin might be the key to stopping it.”

  “It’s been suggested the reality between worlds is dissolving.”

  “Wonderful.”

  “Or the exits themselves are breaking down, and this is the byproduct. Some believe the organism was contained on a single world, until the exits began opening. It escaped and,” he released a heavy sigh, “here we are.”

  “I don’t understand Naalish. How can she think kicking every non-dragon species off Drimera is the way to solve this?”

  “Attributing the issue to an imbalance of the world’s energy is, at its core, far less radical than it seems. There was no threat until the exits allowed the worlds to mingle. She believes, ridding Drimera of what doesn’t belong, will return the land to its original, pure state. Perhaps, she’s correct.”

  “If you believe that, you wouldn’t have your operatives doing research on the sly or evacuating refugees from dying worlds through your daughter’s basement.” And you wouldn’t have wanted me to have the eye, I thought. But if Aidric’s endgame was for me to wield his grandmothers “magic” to shrink the exits and stop the blight from spreading, why didn’t he just ask?

  “I prefer to leave little to chance,” was all he said, but I felt the tiniest scrap of anxiety leak out. Though dragons were adept at keeping their ghosts inside, they were also self-preservationists. Aidric would reveal nothing that might put him at a disadvantage. Whatever he was holding back, I’d have to learn it as I did everything else.