by Bryan Davis
“No, I didn’t. I used the metallic—”
“Just listen.” Billy pulled them closer. “My point is, we can do this. Even if we have to invent a radio that runs on Walter’s bad breath, and even if we have to build solar-powered bicycles, we’ll figure out a way to contact Lois and then find Lauren and the others.”
Walter pumped a fist. “That’s the spirit!” His brow wrinkled. “Hey! Who’s got bad breath?”
“That awful smell,” Billy said. “I heard you burp right before it hit. I figured it knocked out the chopper’s circuits.”
“Well, look who’s talking, Dragon Breath himself.” Walter pulled away with Ashley and spread out his arms. “Now put that torch to good use. We’re freezing.”
* * *
Jared sat on the RV’s sofa and munched on a Vitamin C tablet, his fourth one this hour. Finding an open pharmacy had been a minor miracle. The infusion of vitamins definitely helped, as Mardon predicted.
With Marilyn still driving the RV, her wakefulness enhanced by a caffeine-enriched beverage, they had finally made it deep into the West Virginia mountains—only twenty miles from home where Larry and the secret file awaited.
Mardon fidgeted in the seat opposite Jared’s. Ever since he joined them, he never stopped his anxious gestures—pulling on his sleeves, dabbing a handkerchief on his scarred face and scalp, and blinking every two or three seconds. “In conclusion, the candlestone weapons at Fort Knox are far more formidable than those at the Arizona prison. I haven’t seen them myself, but the engineers were supposed to follow my designs, and they appeared to be a capable group of scientists. Elam’s only hope will be to neutralize the weapons by stealth before he sends in any dragons.”
“I agree,” Jared said. “We’ll try to contact Lois as soon as we get to Larry. It won’t be long now.”
“Speaking of Larry . . .” Mardon again dabbed his forehead. “Since your file contains genetic data, shall I assume that it is your dragon DNA structure?”
Jared swallowed the tablet remnants. “I’m not going to reveal anything more until the file is safely in my grasp.”
Mardon smiled. “Yet you have already revealed the answer. If I had guessed wrong, you would have simply given a negative response.”
“Not necessarily. I could be misdirecting—”
“There is no need to prevaricate,” Mardon said, waving a hand. “Like you, I have been around for many centuries. I am not easily deceived, so we should both be completely straightforward.”
“Spoken by the son of the most devious creature ever to walk the face of the Earth.”
“True. I admit it. My mother is not the paragon of honest communication. Yet I must stand up for her one crowning virtue. She hates Arramos and would do anything to prevent him from achieving his goal—complete conquest of Earth and Second Eden.”
Jared nodded. “Okay. I’ll accept that for the sake of discussion.”
“Another virtue that you might or might not accept is that my mother has always been loyal to me. Her rage at Arramos for disfiguring me cannot be overestimated, which is, of course, part of her motivation to destroy that wretched dragon.”
“Then explain to me why she is helping Tamiel,” Jared said. “Tamiel is in Arramos’s service.”
“She is bound to Tamiel because he holds her well-being in his demonic sway. She and I died long ago, but we both maintain our existence by the enactment of a magical spell that Morgan began and Tamiel controls. If he were to be destroyed, the power would transfer to Arramos. Since Arramos has no use for us, he would eventually terminate the spell, and our souls would travel straight to the judgment seat of God.”
“So Semiramis is working for Tamiel in order to get close to Arramos.”
“Exactly. In fact, she carries a potion that she hopes to pour over him. If she can get just a few drops on any part of his body, the solution will shred his scales and expose his dark heart. It will not kill him, but he will be powerless until he finds another host.”
“Just a few drops?” Jared asked.
Mardon nodded. “It is extremely potent. In fact, if a dragon were simply to inhale it at close range, the fumes would disable him in seconds.”
“What’s in it?”
“Only she knows, but all of her destructive potions include an elixir that Morgan concocted back at the time of the first Eden. It contains a pungent concentration of garlic and camphor as well as a single strand of Samyaza’s DNA.”
“Morgan’s husband? The Watcher?”
“One and the same.” Mardon pulled on a sleeve. “His DNA is a catalyst that greatly increases the potency.”
Jared stroked his chin. “Interesting.”
“So back to your file.” Mardon leaned forward. “I deduced that you plan to battle Arramos. In past engagements, you were the only dragon powerful enough to stand against him. Your warrior prowess is legendary.”
“Again, for the sake of discussion, I will accept your deduction.” Jared nodded. “Go on.”
“I further deduce that the file contains your entire draconic genome, and you also stored a sample of your dragon blood in a secure place, most likely within proximity of your West Virginia home.” Mardon leaned back in his chair, a smug expression on his face. “Am I right?”
Jared reached for the vitamin bottle on a counter to his left. Since Mardon had guessed everything flawlessly, it was hard to act nonchalant. “Suppose you are. Do you have a proposition?”
“Indeed I do.” Mardon withdrew a finger-length vial from his vest pocket. Holding the rubber stopper at the top, he swirled the purplish contents. “My guess is that you hope to restore yourself as the mighty Clefspeare. Your original plan was to revert to dragon form in the way you have in the past, by energizing Second Eden’s birthing garden, wearing a rubellite ring, and stepping onto the soils of regeneration. Yet you know that those soils have been overrun by volcanic debris, so now you are counting on using a candlestone to regenerate yourself, a candlestone coated with your dragon blood.”
Jared opened the bottle and popped a vitamin tablet into his mouth. “It would take more than that. A candlestone regenerates a human body’s vitality, but it doesn’t transform that body from one species to another.”
“Of course not. The candlestone is merely a catalyst. I assume you planned to transluminate yourself and have Larry restructure your DNA based on the dragon genome information in the file. Since Larry has proven his ability to disintegrate and reconstruct highly complex objects, you hoped he could do the same for you. Yet you weren’t quite sure of the procedure’s safety, because Larry’s ability has never been tested on a living creature.”
Jared chewed on the tablet—orange flavored. “Would you trust Larry’s transluminating engine at this point?”
“No, indeed. When Ashley’s prototype was still in its infancy, tests on males were a disaster, resulting in severe brain damage. Of course, she restored some males to a normal state, but only those who had been in light-energy form for a long while. Your son survived, but I hear that he was protected by Merlin himself.”
“So you don’t see a reason to assume that Larry’s engine is any better than the prototype.”
Mardon wagged a finger. “Since you were so quick to come to that conclusion, I assume you have the same fear, so my guess is that you hoped to retrieve the file and then search for Excalibur— the only remaining device by which you know you could be transluminated safely. And when I offered Excalibur to you on the proverbial silver platter, you agreed to travel with a man you thoroughly distrusted, which proves my reasoning and closes my case.”
Jared blew out a long breath. “I have to hand it to you, Mardon. Your deduction skills are impeccable.”
“Good. Good. I was hoping to build your confidence in me.”
“So . . .” Jared nodded at the vial. “What’s that for?”
“Oh, yes.” Mardon pulled out the stopper and waved the vial in the air, then
quickly put the stopper back in place.
The odor of garlic assaulted Jared’s nostrils. Camphor pierced his sinuses. His eyes burning, he blinked away the sting. “One of your mother’s potions?”
He nodded. “We both carry the potion that will strip Arramos’s scales. This will enhance your ability to defeat him.”
“Would it also strip my scales in dragon form?”
“Without a doubt.” Mardon extended the vial toward Jared. “Another gesture to demonstrate my trustworthiness and seal our cooperation. If I had kept it, I could have disabled you with it after you transformed.”
Jared took the vial and laid it on his palm. “I appreciate the token.”
“It is much more than a token. It is also the key to your regeneration. This potion would destroy you in your dragon form, but I can strip out Samyaza’s DNA and replace it with yours. Once that is accomplished, when combined with Excalibur’s energy, the potion will replicate the biogenesis properties of Second Eden’s birthing garden and regenerate you as Clefspeare. No need for a candlestone or a rubellite. No worries about a flawed restoration.”
“That’s good, because I lost my rubellite when I last changed into a dragon.” Jared recapped the vitamin bottle and put it back on the counter. “Your ideas sound great in theory, but the step that makes me balk is—”
“The fact that you don’t trust me.” Sighing, Mardon nodded. “I understand. My reputation has been well earned. My history has the blackest of marks.” He lifted his brow. “Is it possible that I may assist you step by step? Perhaps I will earn your trust, and you can send me away at any time should I prove to be unfaithful.”
“You gave me Excalibur and the potion. That says a lot.” Jared nodded firmly. “You may come.”
Lights in the ceiling blinked off. The RV’s engine died.
“Jared,” Marilyn said, stretching out his name. “Something’s wrong.”
Jared grabbed his cane. “Just let it coast and pull over somewhere.”
She gasped. “Look out the back window!”
To the west, a brilliant light spread out in the sky, filled with colors that arced in all directions. At the center, a mushroom cloud billowed.
“An atomic bomb?” Jared asked.
Mardon squinted. “It is, indeed.”
Jared grabbed Mardon’s collar and jerked him close. “What do you know about this?”
“I . . .” Mardon swallowed. “I merely recognized it. I had nothing to do with it.”
“Are you telling me you know nothing at all about this explosion?”
“Well . . . I . . .”
Jared roared, “Spill it!”
“I . . . I helped Tamiel prepare a launch system that would . . .” Mardon swallowed. “Would guide a nuclear missile through a portal to Second Eden.”
“To Second Eden? Then you are the same monster you always were!”
“No. No. I rigged it so that it would miss its target by at least two kilometers. No portal is that big. And Tamiel said the portal was in a secluded area, so I hoped for the best.” Mardon trembled violently. “I had to . . . to obey him, but I did . . . did what I could to prevent . . . the loss of life.”
“Coward!” Jared shoved him back to his seat. “This changes everything. We’ll have panic, fears of nuclear war, travel bans. We might be stuck here for days.”
“Maybe not.” Still trembling, Mardon pulled on his shirt, straightening the fabric. “Since the blast occurred in the atmosphere, the potential loss of life is likely minimal compared to a ground explosion, and fears of a war and panic might also be minimized. We are quite far away from the zone of immediate danger, so if we keep traveling away from it, we might not be impeded.”
Jared grabbed his cane. “What do you mean by immediate danger?”
“The mushroom cloud proved that the blast lifted material and created significant radioactive fallout. Since we are on the east side of the blast, prevailing winds will eventually carry it toward us. Our more pressing concern is that it generated electromagnetic pulses and disrupted this vehicle’s electronic components. Such pulses could have disabled the electric grid and sent surges throughout the system.”
“Is Larry in danger?” Jared asked. “His room is reinforced with thick concrete, and he has a massive battery backup with surge protection that would block a direct lightning strike.”
Mardon tapped his chin. “Difficult to tell. Many factors to analyze. We’ll have to wait and see.”
The odor of garlic and camphor returned, though the vial remained capped. Mardon blinked and whispered, “Mother?”
Jared sniffed the vial, but the odor seemed to be everywhere.
Marilyn pulled the RV into an exit lane and stopped. “That’s as far as I can go.” She turned the key, but only a click sounded. “It’s dead.”
“How many miles to Castlewood?” Jared asked.
“About eight.”
“That’s a long hike.”
Marilyn pulled the key from the ignition. “Especially for someone who can barely walk.”
“I’m doing a lot better. If fallout is on its way, we don’t have much choice.”
“Hiking is too slow,” Mardon said. “Jared would never make eight miles, and the fallout could easily overtake us.” He lifted his thumb in a horizontal position. “But hitchhiking might work. Older vehicles or those not running when the pulse hit are more likely to have been spared the fate of your RV.”
“Probably our only option.” Jared looked at Marilyn, who had turned toward them. “Agree?”
“I don’t trust Mardon farther than I could spit him,” Marilyn said.
Mardon tugged on his sleeve. “I gave you Excalibur. I gave you the dragon elixir. I offer you my expertise to defeat Arramos. What more can I do to gain your trust?”
“Nothing.” Marilyn pointed at him. “I’ll be watching you like a hawk. With every step you make, every tweak of every genetic fragment, remember that you’ll have me looking over your shoulder. If you harm Jared in any way, I will personally send you to your maker. Understand?”
“I understand.” Mardon dabbed his scalp with his handkerchief. “I have seen the wrath of a woman who has been deceived, especially when a loved one is harmed as a result. You may keep a dagger at my back and feel free to plunge it through my heart if I step out of line.”
Chapter 15
HEAT SEEKER
“I sense danger,” Roxil said as she descended toward a cloud-bank. “We should stay out of sight.”
Lauren pressed her body against Roxil’s back while Mom flew alongside and closed in. She had lifted off Roxil from time to time, giving her a break from the added weight. Even the most powerful dragons couldn’t carry two people for so many miles without a rest.
When they dropped into the cloud, Mom settled behind Lauren and grasped a spine. Lauren faced the white streams of mist, cool and wet as they whistled by. Feeling invisible in the fog helped, though only Roxil could tell if danger had passed, but she stayed silent.
Lauren’s scales tingled. An engine rumble entered her ears, growing louder by the second. “Roxil,” she called, “I think I hear a jet.”
Roxil curled her neck and drew her head close. “If it is military, I assume we cannot hide from a radar-directed pilot.”
“Not likely.”
“I hear it now,” Mom said. “Roxil, your only advantage is low-altitude maneuvers—through a forest or around buildings. Maybe you could even land and hide. A jet needs a runway.”
Roxil bobbed her head. “Prepare for a rapid descent.”
Lauren and her mother clutched tightly to the spines. Roxil folded her wings and dropped. They plunged through the clouds and into open air. The ground lay a few hundred feet below, closing in quickly. Lauren’s bottom rose from Roxil’s scales, and her hands slipped toward the top of the moist spine. Mom jerked her back in place, and Lauren wrapped both arms around the spine and held on.
A jet appeared about fifty feet to the left and zoomed past. It arced to the right and began a wide circle. Roxil stretched out her wings and caught the air. Their plummet slowed.
Lauren’s body pressed against the scales as if her weight had tripled. The ground now lay less than a hundred feet below with no sign of trees anywhere. Only a barn and a small lake interrupted the acres of grassy meadowlands. Roxil leveled out and headed toward the lake.
Something crackled in Lauren’s ears, then a man’s voice joined the noise. “Radar anomaly engaged. Dragon verified.”
A second voice replied, “Deploy the heat-seeker. Those vermin supposedly have a furnace inside.”
“Roger. Fox two.”
A crack and a whoosh rushed into Lauren’s senses. “Roxil!” she screamed. “A missile! It seeks heat!”
Roxil dove again. The missile zipped by overhead, barely missing them. As it careened in a sharp turn, Roxil zoomed toward the lake and beat her wings madly. “Hang on!”
The missile completed its turn and headed toward them again. The lake closed in, only seconds away. The missile narrowed the gap—two hundred feet . . . one hundred . . . fifty.
“Hold your breath!” With another sudden drop, Roxil plunged. Lauren sucked in a breath. They splashed into icy water. Roxil continued flapping her wings. They surged downward and stopped at a gravel-covered bottom where Roxil flattened her body.
Lauren’s ears ached, like they were ready to implode. She looked up. The surface appeared to be about fifteen feet above, though the water’s murkiness made gauging distance almost impossible. At least the cold water might send that missile seeking a different warm body. But how long should they stay submerged to be sure? Hugging herself, she shivered. Her mother wrapped her in her wings, but they didn’t ward off the cold.
Finally, Roxil vaulted from the lake bottom and surged to the surface. When Lauren broke through, she slung water from her hair and scanned the skies—no sign of the jet or the missile.