Eric’s stomach gnarled and knotted with each odiferous establishment they passed. There were signs for things he’d never heard of: tacos, Indian, Italian. One place that sold Chinese almost had him leaping from the car and crawling through its red doors flanked with golden dragons. When he didn’t think he could be tortured anymore, David turned into a place called Burger Blaster. The smell was—what was the word Charlotte used a lot? Oh yes. Insane.
They drove around the small brick building into a drive-thru, whatever that was. David reached into his pocket and pulled out the money Lily gave him. Eric had no idea how much was there, but it looked like a lot. He hoped it was enough to purchase the side of cow, patty style.
Eric watched out David’s window as he pulled up to a strange box with holes in it. A voice came out of it.
“Welcome to Burger Blasters. Can I take your order?”
Bees swarmed in Eric’s belly. What sort of magic was this? He leaned over David and said, “We want a side of cow, please. Braised and pattied.”
Charlotte broke out laughing.
So did David. He pushed Eric away.
The deadpan voice from the box responded. “We don’t sell sides of cow. Would you like something else? The menu is to your left. Let me know when you’re ready.”
“What do you mean you don’t sell sides of cow?” Eric asked.
“Shush, will you?” David said with a chuckle. He turned back to the box. “Ignore him. He’s not from around here. I want six double burger bombs, two with no pickles and no onions. Three large fries and three large strawberry shakes with whipped cream, please.”
“You want your buns toasted?”
“Please.”
“That’ll be twenty-nine fifty-two. Drive up to the second window.”
David pulled forward. He counted out the money and gave it to the girl behind the sliding window. Several white bags came Eric’s way along with three paper cups filled with something pink, thick, and freezing cold. Eric stuck his nose in one of the bags and took a whiff. His stomach growled. Whatever burger bombs were, he loved them before he ever tasted them.
***
The road twisted and turned, and Drac the Mustang took the uphills and downhills like the roaring dragon it was. Within minutes of leaving Burger Blasters, they were pulling alongside a single-story brick house. David pulled around back and turned the car off.
Eric stepped out of the car and shut the door. He glanced around the gardens and open pasture, his hand shielding his eyes. Two horses grazed in the distance. A few goats meandered in the side yard and a couple of chickens clucked about. It reminded him of home and he was comforted in the common simplicities.
“Eric,” David said. “Let’s go inside and eat before these shakes melt.”
David let Charlotte out on his side and she ran up to the door and knocked. “Grampa? It’s me. Charlotte.”
No answer.
Knock, knock, knock.
“Grampa?”
David and Eric walked up behind her, their arms loaded with food.
“Weird. I don’t think he’s home,” Charlotte said. “Hang on. I’ll get the spare key.”
She lifted a statue of a frog in a sea of potted plants, collected the key beneath it, and opened the backdoor. Once inside, Charlotte called out for her grandfather again. A quick search turned up no one. “Hmm, that’s odd. His car’s in the garage.”
“Maybe he’s at a neighbor’s house,” David said. “Why don’t we sit down and eat. He’ll show up soon enough.”
They sat around the kitchen table, unwrapping burger bombs. Eric took one bite and succumbed to sheer pleasure.
He wiped the juices running down his chin, and stared at his drink. He removed the odd membrane lid and tipped it to his lips.
Nothing came out.
Charlotte handed him a straw. “Put it in your drink and suck it up. Like this.” Eric watched the way her cheeks suctioned inward. “You might have to do it a couple of times before it comes up because it’s so thick. Go ahead. Try it.”
“Seems like an awful lot of trouble just to drink something.” However, he did as Charlotte instructed and after three tries, cold berry goodness flooded his mouth and slid down his throat. It was heaven. Sweet, cold, delectable heaven. He took a break, sighed, and sucked in some more.
“Be careful, Eric,” David said. “You’ll end up getting—”
Eric put down his shake and clutched his forehead as hundreds of ice picks hammered away at his brain. Pound. Pound. Pound. The pain spread from behind his nose to the center of his head. It was relentless. Cruel.
And suddenly gone.
He sat back in his chair and stared at his drink as if it were poison.
David looked at Charlotte, chuckled, and completed his thought. “Brain freeze.”
Eric flicked a glance at his friend. “You knew this would happen?”
“No, not really,” David said, “but then I saw you drinking it really fast and I tried to warn you, but it hit you before I could get the words out. Next time, drink slower.”
“Understood,” Eric said. His stomach rumbled and he finished off the last of his second burger. When done, he attacked the packets of ketchup by opening a pouch and squeezing it into his mouth.
David shook his head.
Charlotte laughed. “That’s ketchup, silly. You’re not supposed to eat it plain.”
Eric laid the empty packet on the table. “Why not? Are there rules against it? Will it make me ill?”
“Nooo,” Charlotte said, her face in a wide grin. “It’s what we call a condiment. It enhances food. It’s not a food by itself.”
Eric sucked another packet dry and set it on the table. “Well, it should be.”
Charlotte laughed again, and her melody was comforting to his soul.
“I’ll alert the media.” David slurped the last of his drink and tossed it in the garbage can.
The kitchen clock tick-tocked the time away. David yawned and got up.
“I don’t know about you guys, but there’s a couch in the living room that’s calling my name. I’m beat.”
Charlotte scooted her chair away from the table. “I think that’s a good idea. Today sucked on so many levels.” She glanced up at him as she stood. “How’s your chest, you know, where the necklace burned you?”
“I’m okay.” He ran his palms over his face. “Why don’t you play something on the piano?”
“I was thinking the same thing,” Charlotte said. “Funny you said that.”
David shrugged. “Whatever. You always play after you eat. You said it’s good for the digestion, remember?”
“I do, and it is. Anything in particular you’d like to hear?”
David moved into the den and stretched out on the couch, a pillow tucked beneath his head. “Moonlight Sonata, please. It’s one of your best.”
Charlotte smiled. “You always pick that one. How about Humoresque by Dvorak?” She pulled out the bench and sat before an upright instrument that appeared very much like a harpsichord. She patted the seat beside her. “Come here, Eric. Sit beside me.”
Eric did as she asked and closed his eyes as the haunting melody lulled him to a place void of dragons, gnomes, and war. A place of ultimate peace. Solitude. Detachment.
Heaven.
David
The backdoor shut.
The piano fell quiet, the music ending almost as quickly as it began. A stroke of silence passed.
David scrambled to his feet and flicked a glance at Eric who reached for a sword that wasn’t there. Not good.
Keys hit a counter. A gravely old voice called out from the kitchen. “David Heiland, is that your piece of junk sitting in my driveway?”
Charlotte squealed and spun around on the bench. “Grampa!”
David grinned. “Yes, sir, that would be mine.” But as the words tumbled from his mouth, the grin faded and his brows crowded together. His breath
ing slowed and he couldn’t shake the hollowness in his chest, the sinking feeling he’d been watched and discovered. “I’m surprised you recognized it,” he continued.
A stooped old man with eyes as blue as the Caspian Sea and hazel-colored hair that lay smooth as silk about his shoulders smiled as he stood in the doorway.
“Son, that beaut could be painted pink and covered in cow dung and I’d still know her. Not many of them like her left. Besides, Lily told me what she’d done. I’ve been expecting you.”
Charlotte threw her arms around her grandfather.
“Charlotte, my dear. I’m so happy to see you.” He embraced her in a big hug. He glanced over her shoulder at David. “My, my,” he said, releasing Charlotte with a kiss to her cheek. He held out a fragile hand to David. “How you have grown, young man. Look at you, all tall and strapping. The girls must be falling all over you.”
David took the man’s hand, surprised by its softness. It’s frailty. “I don’t know about that, sir, but thank you.”
The man turned to Eric and extended a hand.
“Hello,” Eric said, shaking it as David had done. “I’m—”
Grampa squeezed Eric’s hand and cupped his other one over it. “You do not need to tell me who you are, squire Eric Hamden, or is that Domnall?” A smile twitched at his lips. He released his hand. “Let’s all sit in the living room. There’s a bit more room in there. I can’t wait to hear all about what you’ve been up to.” He shot David a calculating glance and turned.
David’s head swam with confusion, too afraid to consider what dark thoughts went together with the look.
“He knew who I was,” Eric whispered to David as the old man and Charlotte left the room.
“Yeah. Weird.” Unease rippled through David as they followed the man into the living room. How would he know who Eric was? It’s possible Lily would have told him Eric was traveling with them, but how would he know the relationship with Trog? He wouldn’t, and Lily wouldn’t divulge it. But what if? What if Seyekrad nached the old man?
No. No, no, no. This can’t be happening. I have to go to my car. I have to get my bow and Eric’s sword. We can’t be here, trapped, with no defenses.
He could feel the sweat dripping down his neck. He wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans and somehow found a steady voice.
“Sir, I’ll be right back. I need to get something out of the car.”
The old man shook his head. “You won’t need your sword and bow with me, I can assure you. Please, take a seat. I’ve been anxious for your arrival.”
He can read my mind? Crap! Stop thinking! Stop babbling to yourself.
Charlotte sat on the sofa beneath the window. “Why are you talking so weird, Grampa, and how did you know what he was going to get out of the car?”
Eric and David sat in two cane high-back chairs separated by a low table. David glanced around the room at the bookcases, the wing-backed chair and embroidered footstool in the corner, a book opened in its seat. The dining room just beyond a short-wall partition. There were no paintings. No needless decorations. He didn’t remember it being so stark.
The old man grinned, even chuckled a bit. “I have waited a very long time to tell you what I need to tell you. I have been under strict orders by Miss Lily to keep my mouth shut. However, she came to me last night, desperate with disconcerting news. She and I agreed the next time you kids and I saw each other, I would tell you the truth about everything.”
Alarms fired all over the place inside David, and judging by Eric’s shifting and general unease, they were doing the same in him.
“Can I get you anything to drink?” Grampa asked. He withdrew to the kitchen. “I have water. Tea. What is your pleasure?”
“Nothing for me, thank you,” David and Eric said, almost in harmony.
“Nothing for me, either,” Charlotte said. She wore a strange expression as if she were trying to figure out a riddle, or the secrets to the universe.
Eric jogged his leg up and down. “I have a bad feeling about this,” he whispered. “Charlotte, are you sure this man is your grandfather?”
“Yes,” she said, though her voice met with some hesitation. “At least he looks like him, sounds like him, but there’s something that’s not right, like it’s not him.”
David leaned forward and whispered, “I’m thinking he might be Seyekrad. Be careful what you say.”
“I hope you’re wrong, David,” Eric said, “because if you’re not, we’re toast.”
David sat back, his stomach a knot of nerves. “You’ve got that right.”
The man returned to the living room, a cup of tea in his hand, and sat on the couch beside Charlotte.
“Well, it certainly is good to see you, but I feel like a specimen under a glass,” he said, a smile on his face. “Why are the three of you looking at me as if I were a three-headed goat?”
“I think right now, a three-headed goat would be more understandable,” Charlotte said. She turned to him. “I’m sorry, Grampa, but you’ve got us kind of freaked out here. You don’t have any idea what kind of stuff is going through our heads, so you gotta help us out.”
The man laughed. “Oh, I know what is going on in your heads. I can hear every thought, and let me assure you, I am not Seyekrad, nor has he nached my body.” He dipped his chin and glanced at David over the top of his glasses.
David shivered.
“Then who are you?” Eric asked. “Because everything inside of me is telling me you are not Charlotte’s grandfather, and I don’t know you.”
David took a deep breath. There was that brave tone, the one he wanted to summon but didn’t have the guts to do. It must be a squire, princely thing.
“I am known by many names, depending on who you ask. To you, my sweet Charlotte, I am Grampa. To your father, I am Arland or Pops. But to Auravalla, or Lily as you call her, I am Aldamar, son of Dorazón and father to Jared of Felindil.”
The color drained from Eric’s face.
Charlotte sat frozen, her eyes upon him, unmoving.
David gulped, his mouth hung open. “Th-that’s not possible.”
Charlotte exhaled, and snagged a breath. She shook her head. “I don’t understand. Y-you’re Slavandria’s and Lily’s grandfather?”
“I am.” Aldamar sipped his tea.
Charlotte drew to her feet. “No. This isn’t possible.” She turned to face him. “I’ve known you my entire life. You’re Grampa. Period. Not some sorcerer from Felindil. I won’t listen to another word.”
The man chuckled. “Oh, no, no, dear one. I am not from Felindil. I am from Brac.”
She spun around, her eyes glaring. “No. You’re from Kingsport, Tennessee.”
Aldamar continued, ignoring Charlotte’s outburst. “Brac is the fifth star in the House of Lesh, one of six heavenly houses that protect the world of Estaria.”
Charlotte shook her head and covered her ears. “No. I’m not listening.”
Eric stared at the floor. “I know that word. Where have I heard it before?” Moments later the recollection slid from his lips.
“You’re a Numí,” he said.
The man nodded and smiled. “You know your mage history.”
“Oh my god, no!” Charlotte dropped her hands and whipped around, her cheeks red. “This is such B.S.!”
“Charlotte, please,” David said, rubbing his forehead.
“Don’t please me! This is insane, like literally cuckoo insane.”
Eric leaned forward in his chair, his hands clasped. “Your grandfather isn’t crazy, my lady. Numí are real. They are soldiers of the heavens.”
“What do you mean, soldiers?” Charlotte asked.
Aldamar sat his cup on the table. “We like to think of ourselves as guardians of the universe.”
“Which universe?” David asked. “Because the last time I looked, the world we’re in right now is not in your universe, so why are you here?”
“To protect the paladin, of course.”
David groaned. He didn’t want to be the paladin. Never did, and he wanted it even less now. He leaned back, running his fingers through his hair.
Eric snorted. “I understand, David. All too well. Don’t you wish for once you could escape the truth, the reminders? But you know what, we won’t ever be able to because, no matter where we go or what we do, we’re always going to be who we are. It’s infuriating. It isn’t fair, but that’s our burden. That’s our reality.”
Charlotte stared at them. “You guys are pathetic. Are you really buying this story? Tell me, Grampa. Why in God’s name would you need to travel universes and pretend to be my grandfather to protect David?”
“I needed to be close to the paladin, and what better way to do that than become part of the family. Why, I’ve known David for as long as I’ve known you. A few minutes either way and the two of you would share the same birthday.”
“Is that true?” Eric asked, his brow lifted.
“Yeah,” David said, leaning forward, his hands clasped between his knees. “I was born two minutes before midnight on March 31. Charlotte was born five minutes after me on April 1. It’s one of those fascinating pieces of trivia that people seem to love about us, but I don’t want to talk birthdays.” He turned his gaze to the man sitting across from him. “How, when did you do it? You know. Become Charlotte’s grandfather?”
“Arland Stine became very ill a few days after Charlotte was born. He’d been suffering with a disease, cancer you call it. I saw the opportunity to achieve a goal, so when he passed away, I slipped in.”
David shook his head and laughed. “I don’t believe it.” He glared at the old man, invisible daggers flying from his eyes. “You nached his body. What were you thinking?” He stood. He could feel the fury, the heat rushing to his face. “What gives you the right to take over people’s bodies whenever you feel like it?”
Aldamar stood. “I saved Charlotte’s father from a terrible heartache and gave her a grandfather she would have never had. I healed this body, slowly so as to not raise suspicion. For all intents and purposes, I am Arland Stine, just a bit stronger and much wiser.”
Rage of the Dragon King Page 16