Darkfire Kiss

by Deborah Cooke

  Unless they proved to be useful.

  Jorge flattened himself against the wall to one side of the cottage door. He touched the doorknob. Of course, it wasn’t locked.

  A trap? Or naive human trust?

  Jorge wasn’t even certain the cottages had locks on this island. He was over the threshold as silently as a shadow, closing the door without a sound.

  He heard the mate, sleeping. He heard the child, also sleeping.

  Donovan’s scent emanated from the small kitchen.

  Jorge eased toward the kitchen, which was hidden around a corner. There was a trapdoor in the kitchen floor.

  Open.

  Exuding darkness and the scent of wet earth.

  And the trail of the Warrior himself.

  Jorge moved with haste. He went through the hatch and slipped down the ladder. The darkness was so complete that it took his eyes a moment to adjust.

  There was a tunnel, snaking back toward that hill behind the house. He had to crawl through it, which would put him at a temporary disadvantage at the other end. Jorge considered the reward and took the risk.

  The tunnel was no more than three feet in diameter, and water ran on its floor. Several passages branched off on either side at intervals, but Jorge wasn’t distracted from his goal. Donovan’s scent was clear and fresh.

  He reached the end, hesitating only a moment. He sensed a yawning cavern of darkness, then leapt into the chamber. It wasn’t far to the ground, maybe two feet, but the floor of the cave was wet.

  “Nothing like unexpected guests,” Donovan said, his old-speak deep and slow.

  “Maybe not that unexpected,” Jorge replied.

  “Maybe not,” Donovan agreed. Then he breathed a radiant plume of dragonfire, revealing the scene to Jorge in one flash of light.

  He saw that the cavern was cut from the stone. There was a platform in the center of the chamber, like a funeral bier. A young man with long dark hair and a beard lay there, his eyes closed and his breathing slow.

  And the dragon that was Donovan the Warrior, powerful with lapis lazuli and silver scales, was coiled around the platform that supported the Sleeper. His tail curled between Jorge and the sleeping man.

  Jorge saw all of that in the blink of an eye.

  “The Sleeper!” he guessed.

  “The very same,” Donovan agreed. “And the small complication of his defender.”

  “For the Sleeper, then,” Jorge hissed, then shifted shape to a topaz and gold dragon.

  “For the Sleeper,” Donovan agreed. The pair breathed fire and leapt toward each other, their talons locking as they collided beside the platform. The ground shook with the force of their impact.

  Neither of them noticed that the Sleeper stretched.

  Rafferty was dizzy when he manifested in a workroom. He closed his eyes against his body’s reaction to the move through space, then forced them open again.

  There was no time for weakness. Magnus’s scent was strong.

  He could smell water and hear engines, as well as hear their vibrations. Monitors beeped, and he saw men in an adjacent room quietly conferring. There was a sign declaring this to be the control room of the Thames Barrier.

  Rafferty had a dreadful idea of what Magnus would do. With the seas so high, if the barrier was opened, the city would be flooded. Who knew how many people would die?

  “Looks so peaceful, doesn’t it?” Magnus murmured in old-speak. “Let’s play.” Rafferty pivoted to find his opponent leaning against the wall in human form, eyes shining with malice.

  Magnus strolled into the room, startling the men who were working there. “What does this do?” he asked, and punched a button on a console. A mechanism began to move, rumbling ominously.

  “Don’t!” one man shouted, lunging toward him.

  Before the man could reach Magnus, that Slayer shimmered and shifted shape. He struck the man who fell hard on the floor, attracting the attention of the others.

  Their eyes rounded. Magnus reared back before them, his jade scales sparkling. Rafferty thought he looked less vigorous than he had, and a bit paler.

  Magnus turned to Rafferty, his gaze filled with menace. “Care to tell me where my brother’s son is sleeping?”

  Several of the men glanced upward, evidently thinking they heard thunder.

  “What do you want with him?”

  “He’s slept a thousand years. I doubt he looks it. You could transfer the spell to me, grandson of the Cantor, and save the city.”

  “Never!”

  Magnus smiled. “Oh look, I’m feeling persuasive again.”

  Rafferty shifted shape in turn and bounded after the Slayer, intent on stopping him before he did more damage.

  Rafferty struck Magnus hard, and the Slayer recoiled. Rafferty reopened the wounds on Magnus’s chest, and the Slayer screamed in agony, his blood pooling on the floor. Rafferty heard the relentless rumble of something moving but didn’t know what it was. The men evidently were distracted by the fight.

  “Those two were on television,” one of the men said. “The opal one was trying to kill the green one then, too.”

  “We should help him!”

  Someone broke a chair over Rafferty’s back as Magnus chuckled. Another man used a fire extinguisher, shooting the foam into Rafferty’s eyes. Rafferty roared in frustration and tore at Magnus, determined to finish what he had begun. Magnus pivoted, breathing a long plume of dragonfire at his opponent.

  Rafferty didn’t think it was a coincidence that the flame licked a control panel on one console. Sparks flew as the board shorted out, and the men began to shout. Magnus lit another and another, shorting out the controls in the room. Black smoke rose from the console to fill the room.

  “All you have to do is reunite me with my brother’s son,” Magnus whispered. “That will make it stop.”

  “Liar,” Rafferty declared. “You’re enjoying yourself.”

  “I should have tried the direct approach years ago,” Magnus murmured. “Nothing rivals a big finish.”

  Magnus began to sing. The earth rumbled in response to his chant, the floor vibrating with increasing rhythm. Rafferty thought about singing a competing tune but was leery of making matters worse. Gaia had been volatile lately, and he didn’t want to endanger more humans.

  One man swore, bracing his hands on the last console as he adjusted the controls with desperate gestures. “The green one opened the gates!” he cried, his voice rising in fear. “The barrier is opening, and the controls are shorted out. The city will be flooded, and there’s nothing we can do about it!”

  “There’s one thing we can do.” The man with the fire extinguisher turned it on Magnus. Magnus screamed and stumbled as the foam went into his eyes. Rafferty fell on his old foe, taking advantage of the moment, and slammed his head into the concrete wall. He did it over and over again. Black blood ran down the Slayer’s temple as he went limp.

  If he was unconscious, he couldn’t move through space.

  “Get out!” Rafferty shouted to the men, holding fast to Magnus. “Get out while you can.” He sensed the flash of a camera or a cell phone, but ignored it. Every vestige of strength he had was used to eliminate Magnus and the evil this Slayer had created.

  Rafferty thought of the creation of the Elixir, the sacrifice of Sahir to the making of that vile potion. He thought of the shadow dragons, raised from the dead against their will and shackled to Magnus’s command. He thought of Delaney, tormented by Magnus’s desire to experiment with a newly dead Pyr and his Elixir. He thought of the Sleeper, hidden from Magnus for so long, and all the Pyr who had been sacrificed to dragon hide powder for Magnus to sell to humans as a cure. He heard the water rushing through the barrier and the torrent of water descending on the city, but he held fast.

  Rafferty seized his old foe’s throat and closed his talons around it. He squeezed the life out of Magnus, knowing that he was giving his kind a new future. Magnus began to struggle as he fought for air. He thrashed violently,
but Rafferty held on.

  Magnus flailed at Rafferty, his talons digging into Rafferty’s hide. He begged. He cajoled. He struggled longer than Rafferty could have believed possible, and Rafferty decided it must be the residue of the Elixir in Magnus’s veins. Magnus shimmered, evidently trying to shift or move, but failed.

  His eyes opened to narrowed slits, glinting like cut gems. He grinned then, surprising Rafferty with that expression.

  Then he breathed a stream of dragonsmoke. It wound toward Rafferty, burning every scale it touched. Rafferty hung on, knowing that Magnus must be close to death. He tightened his grip but couldn’t stop the dragonsmoke. It wound closer. It coiled around him.

  And it struck like a spear into the space where he had just lost a scale. The skin was soft and vulnerable, undefended, and the smoke’s strike made Rafferty scream in agony.

  The old-speak came just as Rafferty’s grip loosened slightly.

  “Come get your Sleeper, Magnus,” Jorge purred. “I’ve saved him just for you.”

  Magnus shifted shape, becoming a salamander once again. Rafferty closed his grip but missed the small slithering creature. Then Magnus was gone, disappearing in the blink of an eye.

  “No!” Rafferty roared, then followed suit.

  To Erik’s dismay, Brandt was strong, both as agile and as elusive as a flame. Erik was reluctant to use all of his strength, hoping that Brandt would vent his anger before much damage was done.

  But Brandt was fighting full out. He slashed at Erik with his talons extended and drew blood immediately. “Oath breaker,” Brandt seethed. “I suppose you will argue that this was for the sake of truth, as well.” He swung to strike Erik with his tail, then breathed brilliant fire.

  “I erred,” Erik replied, dodging both blow and fire. “I admit it, but I tried to fix the error by warning you of my mistake.”

  “You broke your word. Why should I trust anything you say?” Brandt launched himself at Erik. Erik swerved suddenly, but Brandt changed direction at the last second. He sank his talons into Erik’s shoulder, spinning him around and tearing at his wings.

  Erik had enough of being kind. He struck the younger Pyr with his tail, then launched a torrent of dragonfire at his back as he tumbled through the air. Brandt changed course and charged back, his eyes blazing. Erik slashed him across the snout, drawing blood.

  “First, you condemned my firestorm; now you break your word,” Brandt sneered. “What kind of leader are you?”

  “The best you have,” Sloane argued.

  “You condemned your own firestorm,” Erik retorted, ignoring the Apothecary. “You were the one who lied to your mate.”

  “So says the Pyr whose mate killed herself rather than face his truth,” Brandt scoffed. “Kay didn’t want to know about my truth, and I would have hidden it from her until the day she died.” Brandt’s eyes narrowed. “It would have worked, except for you.”

  “It would never have worked,” Erik retorted. “Deception never does.”

  “She couldn’t have accepted the truth.”

  “She couldn’t accept that you lied to her.”

  “You bastard!” Brandt fell on Erik in a flurry of anger, all talons and teeth. Erik let the younger Pyr do his worst, now that he understood the root of his fury. He retaliated enough to keep himself from being seriously injured, but he respected that Brandt was driven by the hurt of his loss.

  “This is stupid,” Sloane protested in old-speak, but the other pair ignored him.

  “You still love Kay,” Erik said softly. “How will killing me fix that?”

  “You showed her what I am! You ruined everything!” Brandt struck Erik again and again, and Erik tasted his own blood.

  “And what exactly will this deed teach your son?” Erik asked.

  Brandt paused then, panting as he hovered beside Erik. Erik could feel his consternation and concern. “What have you told him? Is it your fault that he’s turned against me?”

  “I only sense his mood. I am not responsible for it.”

  “Liar!” Brandt would have launched himself again at Erik, but Sloane caught at his tail. Brandt flailed at his cousin, but Sloane was stern.

  “You solve nothing with this. Your anger stands in the way of a solution.”

  Brandt’s eyes blazed. “There can be no solution, when we are led so poorly that we are all revealed.”

  “That can’t be changed,” Sloane interjected. “But perhaps it can be used to further our mission.”

  “What do you mean?” Both Brandt and Erik turned to the Apothecary, who was looking down. Erik saw the clouds parting far below and became aware of great turmoil in the city beneath them.

  “Aren’t we supposed to safeguard humans as one of the treasures of the earth?” Sloane asked. “Listen. There are greater issues here than our broken oaths.”

  The sound of screams rose clearly to the Pyr, whose hearing ensured that they were aware of all the humans in pain.

  “You were wrong,” Brandt said, his gaze still simmering.

  “I believed it necessary to break my word in order to warn you.” Erik extended his talon to Brandt. “We can argue, or we can make a difference.”

  “We can achieve more together than apart,” Sloane said, and Brandt exhaled a stream of smoke.

  He was still angry, but his frustration was tempered. The younger Pyr glanced downward. “Will you help me with my son?”

  Erik smiled. “You had only to ask.” They grasped claws, in tentative accord once again.

  Then the trio dove down toward the city. Erik was shocked by the sight of the gates of the Thames Barrier opening. It couldn’t have been the choice of anyone running it, because the river was so high. It took only a glimpse to realize that the water would flood the city.

  Erik heard the song of Magnus and knew that the Slayer had caused this somehow. “We have to force it back!” he shouted as he pointed. The three Pyr dove toward the Thames Barrier, descending out of the sky like three plumed arrows.

  One was black and pewter, like the moon’s light; one was as orange and gold as the sun; and the third was the magical, changeable hue of tourmalines.

  Together, they would halt the tide.

  “Dragons, dragons, all the world is wild for dragons today,” Juliane said. “Here’s a report from a bystander, with video shot from a cell phone. It shows three dragons, forcing shut the Thames Barrier. The barrier had been closed against high water, keeping London from flooding, but an apparent malfunction caused it to open just moments ago. As you can see in this footage, these dragons appeared out of nowhere to save the city from flooding. This is incredible.”

  “I have a remote link to some staff from the barrier control,” Doug said into Melissa’s ear. “You can’t get there fast enough, but I want you to do the interview. Okay?”

  Melissa wondered why Doug had made such a choice. Usually the anchor did these kinds of interviews, but she wasn’t going to argue about more airtime. She heard Doug tell the cameraman to get the smoke billowing from the subway station behind her for the shot, and she listened to the anchor filling the gap.

  “We have with us a gentleman, whom we’re going to call Larry, who is speaking with us in confidence about incidents inside the Thames Barrier control room,” Juliane said. “Melissa Smith will be talking to Larry. Melissa?”

  “Thanks, Juliane. Larry, can you tell us why you’re speaking anonymously?”

  “It’s on account of what I saw,” he said, his voice sounding odd as it went through a mixer to disguise his identity. “I don’t want anyone saying I’m crazy. I could lose my job.”

  “And what did you see, Larry?”

  “Two dragons. They were there in the control room. One of the guys noticed that it was those same two, the two that were fighting in that YouTube video. The opal one and the green one. We thought that opal one was trying to kill the green one, and we tried to help.” Larry gave a self-deprecating laugh. “But we had it backward. The green one opened the barrier.
He was trying to kill all of us, everyone in the city, and the opal one was trying to kill him instead. Nearly did it, too. Then the green one, well…”

  “What did the green one do, Larry?”

  “He, uh, turned into a salamander and disappeared. The opal one wasn’t very happy, but he kind of shimmered blue, and then he was gone, too. If it weren’t for everything smashed, we might have thought we were seeing things. As it was, the barrier was open, putting the whole city at risk.”

  So Rafferty was still alive, still fighting Magnus, and the fight had moved to another venue. Melissa wondered where, but she kept on the track of the interview.

  “But bystanders say that three dragons closed the barrier,” she said to Larry.

  “Yeah. Three different ones. One was black, one was orange, and the other was kind of purple and green. We saw them, too.” Larry exhaled. “I tell you, it’s like something out of a movie.”

  “And the barrier is closed again? The city is safe?”

  “Yes. It’s designed to stay put if there’s a power failure, but that green dragon opened it before shorting it out. That meant we couldn’t close it again. Anyway, all’s well that ends well, right?” Larry exhaled heavily. “I think I need a pint.”

  Melissa laughed. “I think you deserve one, Larry. Thank you so much for sharing your experience with us.” She turned to the camera again. “It appears, Juliane, that the aftershocks of the earthquake have stopped here in Hampstead and things are returning to normal. Although emergency crews are still extinguishing fires and providing care to the injured, it seems that we are over the worst of it. The river has been restrained again, and we hope that this is the end of traumatic events in London today. Melissa Smith, reporting from London.”

  “Thank you, Melissa,” Juliane said crisply. “May I say it’s good to have you back on the team again.”

  The warm words took Melissa by surprise, and she hoped she hid her sudden tears. “Thank you, Juliane. It’s good to be back.”