Rage of the Dragon King

by J. Keller Ford

  Eric smiled. “Fiery lass, this one is. I like her.”

  “Yeah, I bet you do,” David muttered to himself. He rolled his fingers into fists and faced the back wall, enraged by the green beast coiling around his gut again. Gah! He hated feeling angry and jealous. It was not like him, but he couldn’t stand the way Eric looked at her … or the way she looked at him. He should have told her how he felt a long time ago. Maybe there was still time. Once they got out of Seyekrad’s dungeon and …

  A door slammed shut downstairs. A light flicked on.

  Panic held David’s breath hostage. Who was it? Seyekrad? Bainesworth? He wiped his sweaty palms on his britches. Eric stood beside him, shielding Charlotte from whoever came around the corner.

  Bare feet pattered across the floor below.

  “Come on. Open the door,” Eric whispered.

  The wall rumbled.

  David’s mind raced. His heart thudded. That’s it. Come on.

  He jerked Charlotte in front of him and motioned for her to get ready to run.

  She nodded.

  A sliver of moonlight seeped through the narrow opening. A shadow appeared on the wall below.

  Charlotte slipped sideways through the opening, followed by Eric, then David. They ran in the direction from which they came, down the hall. Through the kitchen. Charlotte escaped through the side door.

  Eric’s foot caught the leg of a chair.

  It hit the floor with a bang.

  “Klutz!” David grasped Eric by an arm. One, two, three steps and they were outside and sailing over the porch railing. They disappeared into the woods and ducked behind a fallen log just as a wide beam of light illuminated the yard and trees.

  Waves of energy distorted the air, bending. Pulsing. Seeking. Magic at its max. Minutes later the grounds fell dark, and the kitchen door slammed shut and locked.

  David rolled to his back, his heart galloping like a racehorse vying for a win at the Kentucky Derby. “Whew, that was close.”

  “Too close,” Eric said, getting to his feet. He glanced around. “Where’s Charlotte?”

  Alarm spread through David’s body. She’d fled out the door before they did. He didn’t see where she went.

  A half a dozen flashlight beams, maybe more, swept the side yards between Mr. Loudermilk’s and Mrs. Fenton’s houses.

  “Get down!” David said, tugging on Eric’s pants.

  He dropped to the ground and peeked over the log. “Who are they?”

  “Police.” David slid all the way down. “Get as low to the ground as you can and hope they don’t have dogs.”

  The beams of light cut through the trees directly above them, lingering far too long on the area where they lay. An owl hooted to their right. David listened for Charlotte, but it was as if she’d disappeared.

  The police combed both lawns, coming as far as the tree line, their lights illuminating the forest. Finding nothing, they retreated.

  David waited before standing. He cupped his hands together, placed them to his lips, and whistled a dove call. He waited a few minutes and repeated.

  “What are cops?” Eric asked, standing beside him, brushing leaves from his pants.

  “Peace-keepers. They investigate crimes and disturbances, and arrest those committing them.”

  Footsteps approached from behind them. Leaves crunched beneath each step.

  “David, Eric,” Charlotte whispered. “What are you doing? Do you want someone to see you? Get in here.”

  David expelled a sigh of relief. “Charlotte!” He scrambled toward her.

  Eric followed. “Are you all right, my lady?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Are you certain? You gave us quite a scare. If I may, might I suggest you do not do so again.”

  “Yeah, sure. Whatever. David, I followed the trail to the back of your house. There are cops everywhere. We’ve got to find somewhere else to hide. I thought about my parents’, but to be honest, I think I’d totally freak them out, not to mention there are probably detectives living in my bedroom.”

  David ran his fingers through his hair and stared off into the darkness. An idea plowed into his head. He grasped her hand.

  “I know just the place. This way.”

  Eric

  They moved as fast as the forest and the moonlight would allow. Trails disappeared beneath layers of leaves, and shadows danced among the trees, giving Eric reason to pause more than once. The land rose and fell, and small creeks and streams challenged them along the way. After some time, they emerged onto a road, its foundation unlike anything Eric had ever seen. He stood upon it, marveling at its smooth rigidity.

  David called it pavement. He said most roads were covered with it, that it made it easier for the cars to travel on. When he asked what cars were, David ended the discussion with, “You’ll find out soon enough.” While Eric didn’t care for the abrupt end to the conversation, the mystery intrigued him nonetheless.

  They crossed the road and ran down a hill toward a metal fence. Off in the distance was a sprawling building, a couple of floors high.

  “Really, David,” Charlotte said. “We’re going to hide in the school?”

  “That is a school?” Eric asked, his heart thumping wildly. “For higher learning?”

  David chuckled. “Not exactly. That’s Havendale High. It’s where Charlotte and I go to high school. If you lived here, that’s where you would go, too.”

  “Fascinating.”

  “Yeah. Totally.” David and Charlotte smiled at one another as David linked his fingers together, his palms up. “Up and over, missy.”

  Charlotte placed a hand on David’s shoulder. “You do realize if anyone catches us, we’re toast, right? We’ll never find the crystals, or save Garrett and Gertie or Twiller’s family. And how are we going to explain these clothes? We look like escapees from a Renaissance Faire.”

  “First, let’s not become toast. Second, we will rescue Gertie and Garrett, and third, I don’t think if anyone catches us, their first reaction will be, Where did you get those clothes? Now up and over.”

  Charlotte took the boost and jumped over to the other side.

  David went next.

  “Toast? What does that mean?” Eric asked, clambering over the fence.

  “It means we’ll be in deep trouble,” David said.

  “Oh. Then I agree. Let us not become toast.”

  They took off across the open field where two posts shaped similarly to Y’s stood in the ground opposite each other. “Football,” David said. “Don’t ask.” Eric didn’t, but he would, eventually.

  They rounded the side of the building and stopped.

  Sprawling before them was a town with a road that went through the middle and stretched off so far in both directions, it got lost in the darkness. There was another road to the left, intersecting the main one. Gray lights dangled overhead on a line of some sort, taking turns flashing red, yellow, and green colors. Riding on the roads were a handful of loud, growling, metal contraptions of all shapes, sizes, and colors, each with four strange wheels and bright lights.

  Cars, Charlotte pointed out, and while not dangerous on their own, the people driving them could be. He had no reason to doubt her.

  Lining the roads were trees and establishments, most of which seemed to be closed for the night. The light changed and the few cars on the main road moved on, leaving the streets empty and quiet. Crouching, David led them down a small incline and onto what Charlotte called a sidewalk. Eric marveled at the surface and imagined how much easier it would be to get around if Fallhollow had similar structures. He’d have to find out how to make them and teach the king’s architects once the war was over.

  At the intersection, they crossed Main Street and headed down Clairmont. David jogged ahead and stopped before a small brick, two-story building with a large sign shaped like a cup, the words Java Joe’s written in big letters across the front. The building was
dark except for the right upstairs window. A shadow moved past the drawn curtains.

  David scoured the ground, picked up a couple of pebbles and walked to the darker side of the building. He took aim and tossed a pebble at the side window. The stone pinged off the glass and fell to the ground. He tossed another. That one garnered attention.

  A boy with dark skin shoved the curtain aside and opened the window. “Who’s there? What do you want?”

  “Jackson, it’s me, David. David Heiland. I need your help.”

  Jackson leaned out the window. “David? Holy beeswax!” He spoke just a tad above a whisper. “Where have you been? You’ve got the whole world looking for you.”

  “I, we, need your help. Can you let us in?”

  “Sure. Meet me around back.”

  The sash shut. The shadow of the boy vanished.

  “Come on.” David led them down the alleyway, turning the bend around what could only be a large garbage bin judging by its smell. Jackson opened the door.

  “Oh my God, dude, where have you been?” He embraced David in a hearty hug and stood back. “And what is that you’re wearing?”

  Charlotte shot David a sideways glance. “See. I told you.”

  “Yeah, okay. Bite me. Jackson, you remember Charlotte. And this is my friend, Eric. He’s not from around here so go easy on him.”

  “Can’t promise anything. Come on in.”

  “Where are your folks?”

  “Bristol. They’re attending some coffee bean expo for the weekend. They’ll be back tomorrow night.”

  Jackson led them down the hallway into a spacious room with bright, colorful couches, plush chairs, and weird but interesting artwork on the walls.

  “You want some joe?” Jackson asked.

  “Good heavens, yes,” David said, falling into a couch. “Nothing special, just make it hot and delicious.”

  Jackson grinned. “Charlotte, Eric, want anything?”

  Charlotte yawned. “Tea for me, please, and a blueberry muffin if you have one.”

  “I’ll take some tea as well,” Eric said. “Black.”

  “Sure nuff. My Uncle Charles likes to drink black tea. He lives in Stevenage. Where abouts in the U.K. are you from?”

  “He’s not from the U.K.,” David said.

  “Oh. I’m sorry. I assumed by the accent you were British. Accept my apologies.” Jackson addressed David. “Brazilian or Columbian?”

  “Brazilian, please. Medium grind.”

  Within minutes, Eric fell hostage to the most aromatic scent he’d ever experienced. “What is that? I have never smelled anything so bold. So intoxicating.”

  “That,” Jackson said, “is coffee, or what we around here call joe. Wanna change your order?”

  Eric inhaled deep. “Yes, please. I’d like a cup of joe, instead.” He doubted it would be the last time he drank it.

  “Coming right up. Cream’s in the fridge, sugar’s on the counter.”

  “I’ll get it,” Charlotte said, winking at Eric as she passed.

  He smiled, and his heart flipped. Was she being flirtatious? No. Certainly not. It was clear by the way she looked at David how much she adored him. But, there was something in the wink. A twinkle in her eye. A softness in her smile. Ah, what are you gandering about, Eric? It was nothing more than a gesture of friendship and comfort, two things a man out of time and place needs. Maybe more so than the air in your lungs. Still, he relished in the gesture, thankful he even had one to ponder.

  A few minutes later, they were all sitting around in a circle, sipping, nibbling, and trying to sort out the world as it applied to them.

  “Okay, so you’ve got to tell me what’s going on.” Jackson set his coffee mug down. “I swear to God, we have had so many cops and FBI agents swarming around this town over the last eight weeks. I mean—”

  “What?” David gulped the sip he’d taken, and sat forward, almost dropping his cup on the short table they sat around.

  “What?” Charlotte said. Clearly, it wasn’t good news to them. “Did you say eight weeks? That’s impossible. I figured it up this morning. You were out of it for two weeks and it took us two weeks to do everything else.”

  Jackson sipped his coffee and chuckled. “I don’t know what time clock you’ve been looking at, kitten, but seein’ as you guys disappeared January 4, and today’s the last day of February, I’m thinkin’ eight weeks.”

  David stared at the floor, his expression blank. “How? How is it even possible to manipulate time? Twiller never said anything about—”

  “Who’s Twiller?” Eric asked. “You’ve mentioned him a few times.”

  “He’s a meadow—” Charlotte began, her voice, her expression lost in a daze.

  David tapped her leg with his.

  Charlotte brought her tea to her lips. “He lives in the same town where Garret and Gertie are. The last I heard he was on a sailboat with Jared and Mangus.”

  Eric swallowed hard. Mangus Grythorn. The general of the mage army. Jared’s right-hand man. He’d said they were going on a diplomatic mission. More like they’d gone to collect allies willing to fight another war.

  Jackson chuckled again. “The three of ya look like I just told you your favorite dog died. You wanna fill me in on what you guys are babbling about?”

  “Sorry, buddy,” David said. “We’re tired. I guess days ran into each other and more time got away from us than we thought.” He collected his coffee and pressed back into the cushion. “You were saying about the cops?”

  “Yeah, right,” Jackson continued. “Anyway, it’s been like something out of a who-done-it novel around here. And school. Good God. Everyone is like flipping out, wondering if the two of you are dead or something. Military’s been here, too. Air Force folk. Helicopters. Planes. Search teams probing the forest. They were called off about a week ago. And forget the track team. Dude, we haven’t won a single freaking race without you. Not one.”

  “Sorry,” David said. “It hasn’t been a picnic where we’ve been, either.”

  “Yeah, and where has that been? Comic-Con? Pennsic? I mean, I like Ren Fest, too, but come on, dude. You couldn’t change your threads?”

  Eric sipped his coffee and set it on the table beside him. “That is the second reference you have made to our attire. Do you find it offensive?”

  Jackson laughed. “No, dude. It’d take something really weird, and I mean really weird to offend me. But I can tell you it’s not the norm, know what I mean? Jeans, tees, and sneakers. That’s the norm.”

  Eric had no idea what he meant. Any of it.

  “We had to borrow some clothes,” David said. “It’s a very long story, and one I’d love to share, but we’re kind of in a situation. What we do need is a huge favor and you’re the first person that popped in my head.”

  “Name it, man. Anything.”

  “We need to get into my house, but there are cops crawling everywhere.”

  Jackson grinned. Big. “And you need a distraction.”

  “Think you can provide one? I hate to ask. If my friend, Mirith, was around, I wouldn’t have to.”

  Eric bit his tongue. If it hadn’t been for Mirith, they wouldn’t be where they were at the moment. Stupid dragon. Stupid, stupid dragon.

  “They don’t call me Jackson the Distraction for nothing.”

  David snorted. “No one calls you that.”

  “Hey, don’t go hurtin’ the feelings, man. Do I need to remind you? Homecoming. 2014. Bare Ass High versus their mighty rival, the Havendale Warriors.”

  “Bearss,” David corrected with a grin.

  “Hey, when you’re telling the story you can tell it like you want.” Jackson leaned back, his arm in the air, painting a picture as he spoke. “It was a cool autumn evening. Gentle breeze. Almost a full moon. Their king and queen had just been crowned and everyone was fanning their tears when suddenly, out of the nowhere—”

  Eric’s ears perked
up. They had kings and queens in this place? They’d attended a coronation? He would have to get details.

  Charlotte broke into laughter. “Oh my gosh, that was you? You were the pilot who flew over the field and unleashed all those rolls of toilet paper on their Homecoming Court?”

  Jackson stood and bowed. “Pilot extraordinaire at your service.”

  Her laughter lit up the room.

  Eric melted.

  “Oh my gosh, I contributed to the t.p. fund!” she said. “You’re a legend!”

  “He’s a criminal.” David chuckled. “He was arrested as soon as he landed for stealing his dad’s plane, and was sentenced to sixty days in a nursing home cleaning out bedpans.”

  “Well worth it, my dear,” Jackson said, taking his seat. “Well worth it.”

  Eric sat back, listened, and laughed, even though he had no idea what a plane, a pilot, or toilet paper was. He had his suspicions on the latter, and hoped against hope it had been of the unused kind.

  David scratched his temple and leaned forward. “Well, we’re not going to need anything so grand tonight, just something distracting enough to draw all the cops from my backyard to the front yard. Have any ideas?”

  Jackson smiled. “Oh yeah. Do I ever. Give me one hour, and I’ll give you your distraction.”

  David gulped down the rest of his coffee and stood. “Thanks, man. I can’t thank you enough.” The two friends hugged again, this time with hearty smacks to the backs. “I don’t think I need to tell you to keep this all a secret. You never saw us, okay?”

  “Well, I didn’t think you were asking me to distract them so you could stand on the roof and yell, ‘Here I am!’” Jackson punched David on the shoulder. “Get outta here, man. Stay safe. And one day, you better fill me in on all this, okay? Something tells me you’re going to be a legend, too.”

  “Yeah, we’ll see.”

  Eric rose and clasped Jackson’s outstretched arm. “Thank you for your assistance. I hope we meet again someday.”

  “I’m sure we will.” Jackson turned to Charlotte and hugged her. Strings of electrical currents arced between her fingers and his arms. He arched his back and yelled, “Ouch! Damn, woman! What kind of personal power grid are you housing there?”