The Goblin and the Empire

by JD Cole

  Kim turned her head and dropped her ear back onto his chest, listening to his heartbeat. “I’m sorry. It was my job. I’m a Silver Knight, and the nightfangs were collecting intel on you guys. We had to know why. Come to find out they were working for the alien. Werewolf bastards.”

  “Yeah, but what about you? I don’t know nothing about you.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “I dunno. Is there something I need to know right off the bat? Any boyfriends back home I gotta’ beat up?”

  Kim looked up at him again. “Nope. You’re it. I was a pretty sheltered kid. My parents were druggies, so I grew up in a foster home. Spent all my time online, got kinda good at hacking because I couldn’t stop tearing apart code to figure out how everything on the web works. I wasn’t too popular in school, never dated, never even kissed a guy. Then the nightfangs came after me because I broke into one of their systems, and I was saved and recruited by the Silver Knights, so I went from one closeted life right to another. Not too many Silver Knights younger than thirty-five, and most of the guys I tried to flirt with looked at me like an annoying geek.”

  “I no blame ‘um.”

  “Hey!”

  After a muted laugh, they were silent for several minutes, then Kim drew herself up higher to rest near Devon’s head. “You didn’t have the nightmare again last night. At least you didn’t wake up sweating.”

  “No,” Devon replied, “I still had it.”

  “What happened? I wanna help, Devon. Even if all I can do is listen.” She pressed her cheek to his. “I love you.”

  Devon hesitated for several moments, then curled his arm tightly around her and took a deep, pausing breath. His fingers began to tremble, and Kim felt his palms sweat coldly on her skin as he slowly recounted for her the things he’d witnessed during the battle. Seeing bodies explode in an action movie was one thing; seeing it for real could not even be described with words. Watching buildings come crashing down, and hearing the screams of everyone inside being crushed; catching war drones that were firing into crowds, and jumping in front of them, but not quickly enough to save everyone… and then all of that had been followed by the alien trying to tear Kelli apart in battle. Devon had saved her, at the expense of his own safety. As far as he knew, Dragons could not be harmed by anything on Earth, but the alien used an energy weapon that had all but destroyed Devon’s body, inflicting crippling pain in the process. His voice broke as he told Kim about his skin and scales literally melting, his muscle and bone disintegrating, only to regenerate and burn away again. Unable to move, he had been trapped under a barrage of weapon fire, waiting helplessly as the alien attempted to steal his immortality and magic for itself.

  When Kelli and the others finally defeated the monster, Devon’s miraculous inborn magic had healed him within minutes. But every moment of the battle remained fresh in his mind. It somehow surpassed his despair upon learning that his mother and newborn sister had died nearly six years ago. It overshadowed the phone call informing them all of his father’s fatal car accident several weeks later. An immortal being, a member of the most powerful class of faeries on Earth, and a boy who had overcome the worst of all possible losses, Devon was nonetheless held captive by the terror he’d experienced on that horrible night. Unused to expressing any kind of real emotion, he was sobbing again by the time he finished.

  But this time, Kim was crying with him. Somehow, her tears had more healing power than all the Dragon magic in the world at the moment. This time, he wasn’t alone.

  ~

  Sunrise found Devon and Kim studying printouts of maps, while spooning mouthfuls of breakfast into their mouths. Erica was in the living room, talking to someone on the phone. Kim’s finger traced along a road as Devon looked on.

  “Okay, down here, here’s Camp Starlight, where your brother’s assigned. Turkmenistan and Uzbekistan are mostly ally-controlled, so the supply trains are secure through there from Iran to these units in the south, including Christian’s. Now, OSINT says he was the chief advisor for all the Acid Rain systems deployed in this region here,” she circled half of Kazakhstan with her fingertip, “where they were working with the Kazakh government, staging to push back against the rebels and make sure the space and missile platforms in the country stay in allied control.”

  “OSINT?”

  “Open Source Intel. I scour the web collecting nuggets of data so I can assemble interesting bits of information. The military would never come right out and say ‘So-And-So is our primary expert on this weapon we’re using to kill bad guys,’ but us spies know how to find the puzzle pieces and turn them into a big picture. Anyway, Christian’s plane was shot down and he was captured roughly… here. The live telecast when he escaped was broadcast from a small town just across the border, way up here, so he’s been running roughly toward… how do you pronounce that? Magnet… Magnitogorsk? I wish I had my rig, I’d try to break into the defense networks and get a more accurate location for you.”

  “You can do that?”

  “With help. We’ve got hooks in a lot of important agencies, sometimes makes it easier to break into networks we haven’t compromised. There’s always the old-fashioned way, too.”

  “What is that?”

  “James Bond stuff, we send agents in to bug the place. Anyway, Erica says he’s been running north, northwest, so he’s still in Russia. There’s not too much on the internet about resistance fighters, but there are pockets of them scattered around. It sounds like Christian fell in with some, but they’re pretty much third-rate militias, they don’t have the resources to coordinate with the allies. But the communists control all of this area, here, so he won’t be escaping their net any time soon, even with resistance help. And the commies are like roaches, there’s little nests of them all the way between here,” she pointed, “and Moscow.”

  “With the commies dug in all along the border here, Chris no can just head back toward the allied camps in the south.”

  “Right, at least not until the military clears them all out. But that’s gonna’ be slow going, since we’re technically not at war yet. They can’t go shooting stuff and dropping bombs just because they know where some of the bad guys are.”

  “And Chris still no believe he’s immortal, so he’s not gonna’ hang around to wait for that.”

  Just then, Erica backed into the kitchen, her attention focused on the television. Devon looked up. “What’s up, Erica?”

  “Huh? Oh, that was the Ingrams. They asked us over to dinner tomorrow night.”

  “You told them I was back?”

  “Well, yeah. They’re Kelli’s parents, they’re caught up in all this as much as I am. I’ve been talking to them every day since Ben left.” She still hadn’t turned to face him, tapping a remote control against her chin. “In other news, we’re officially at war.”

  Devon and Kim all but leapt from their kitchen chairs and joined Erica in the entryway to the parlor, watching the newscast on the fifty-inch flat panel screen. Erica increased the volume, and sure enough, during Hawaii’s late night/early morning hours, the allied nations had declared unlimited war on the communist rebels slaughtering people in Eastern Europe in the name of reviving the Union of Soviet Social Republics. Minor skirmishes and strikes had been growing more and more frequent over the last several weeks, but there was no longer any pretense: the world was at war once again. Anchorman commentary continued over footage of British and German fighter jets taking off from allied Iran, claiming that the attack in Boston, universally blamed on the communists, negated any further talks between the allied nations and the rebels. Nobody in Europe was going to wait for similar attacks on their own soil. That was followed, ironically the trio thought, by video from a pair of Acid Rain batteries firing at distant, unseen targets.

  Erica moved to the couch and plopped down with an audible breath. Devon sat beside her, giving her a small hug. “No wonder the faeries buried themself under da’ ice to get away from us.”

&n
bsp; An official from the People’s Asian Republic, the communist power that controlled most of Asia in partnership with the Koreans, was giving a brief statement to the press now, and everyone heard the true meaning behind his flowery words. In effect, the Chinese would be watching the war closely, and if they didn’t like what was happening, they would step in and make it worse. Every history student knew the Asian communists had never forgiven the West for preventing them from looting the remains of the Soviet Union following the third World War. Devon might have been as gung ho about the marines as any other service family member, but nuclear war was still a fresh memory from the end of the last century, and Devon himself could now accurately be called a combat veteran. He’d seen up close what war was. The success of his brother’s weapon designs was more exciting than the fact that they now had to be put into use.

  “I can’t believe he’s smack in the middle of all of that,” Erica murmured, rubbing at her brow with her fingertips.

  Kim moved to sit on the other side of Devon, but reached over him to put her hand on Erica’s. “He’ll be okay. He’s immortal, Erica.”

  “So was I,” Devon whispered. Kim paused for a moment, then nodded sadly. Devon looked down in thought, then quickly stood. “I got it! Uncle Krin can help me find him!” He looked around the room as the women watched him, wondering what he was planning. He clapped his fists together as he continued searching, then stopped. “Oh, I know.” He headed toward the stairs, then turned around. “Who wants to come with me?” Erica and Kim followed him to one of the upstairs bathrooms. Inside, they found Devon cracking his knuckles.

  “Are you going back to his castle?” Kim asked.

  “Yip.”

  “Why are we in the bathroom?” Erica added.

  “Never made a gate into Uncle Krin’s castle before,” Devon replied. “I’ve been there, so I’m pretty sure I can make ‘um. But it’s wet and snowy, so just in case I miss…”

  “You think your tub can hold the Arctic?” Kim raised an eyebrow.

  “It’s got a drain, right?” he replied. Kim almost thought he was being serious.

  Devon stared at the tiled wall. “You guys read The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe?”

  “Yeah” came from Erica, “Nuh-uh” from Kim.

  “We going call this The Dragon, the Wahines, and the Bathtub.”

  The women traded looks and gestures behind his back. Kim started to say something, but Devon shushed her. “Trying for concentrate,” he scolded.

  Kim looked to his sister and mouthed “wa-hee-nees?”

  Erica silently replied “women.”

  “Oh,” the redhead nodded. Then she frowned at the back of her boyfriend’s head before giving Erica a dry look. “In a bathtub,” the redhead repeated irritably.

  “Not what I meant,” Devon told them in a musical tone. He felt through the earth for Krin Ahgl’s home within the Ythsimerin. Even after he was sure he’d found it, he focused on the feeling for several moments before weaving the gate.

  Erica watched in fascination as a line of gold fire shot from the floor of the tub almost to the ceiling. Then, like a zipper, it began to open to reveal a room on the other side, carved out of stone and richly furnished. Erica almost thought she was looking at a page from a high society magazine depicting the interior of some European billionaire’s manor.

  “Are you sure about this?” Kim asked. She had been to that castle once before, but she’d been taken there by Krin himself, along with Kelli and the others. “We weren’t invited, Devon. He’s not the kind of guy I’d wanna just drop in on.”

  Devon paused to consider that. “Yeah. I guess you’re right. Maybe it’s better if you guys wait here.” He hugged a still-stunned Erica, then gave Kim a quick, tender kiss. “I’ll be back in awhile, okay?”

  “Are you going to be okay?” Erica asked. She was obviously a little frightened, now.

  Devon smiled, unworried. “Yeah, should be fine if it’s just me. Kim is right on that.” With that, he stepped through the gate and it sealed itself, leaving the women alone in the house.

  ~

  Devon stood in the large living area he and everyone else involved in Kelli’s plight had occupied weeks ago. The pieces of the puzzle that connected everyone were discussed and debated here; Lumina, the Hood, the Silver Knights, and Kelli herself finally began to understand the nature of her kidnapping, as the disparate parties had shared information.

  There were sofas and coffee shop-style tables scattered throughout the room, and three large pools of water carved into the walls. Those pools, he remembered, littered the castle, all connected to waterways through which the merfolk servants could travel. He moved to one of the pools, picking up clamshells that sat on a pedestal nearby. Kelli had told him she used shells to summon a servant. The Dragon held the shells under the water and clapped them together, then pulled his hands out to wait. It wasn’t long before a mermaid swam up through the passages below and broke through the surface of the pool. She blinked in surprise.

  “Irrhdhe Devon? Sus nabba patayo shenchimas?”

  Devon looked at her, uncomprehending. She was about four feet long from her waist to her head. The skin on her narrow frame was sky-blue, her long spaghetti-like hair bright green. She had small, razor sharp teeth like a piranha, and eyes like yellow fog lights. She was wearing a tight, sleeveless shirt that sparkled in the open air. Beneath the crystal clear water, her tail was at least seven feet long —the scales ranging from green to orange along its length— and sported several pairs of thin, transparent fins.

  She was staring at him curiously, and he returned the stare. “Um, you speak English?”

  Her expression and the way she shrugged told him no. He tried a simpler question. “Krin Ahgl?”

  At her master’s name, the mermaid’s eyes went wide, and she began singing off a rapid string of foreign-worded replies that he couldn’t follow. Devon motioned with his hands for her to slow down.

  “So, he’s not here?” Again, she shrugged and gave him a quizzical look, then fired another machine gun-burst of musical mermaid speech. Her hands were motioning furiously, and Devon could tell that she was trying to tell him something important. But then he saw her eyes change, widening not in surprise, but fear. Faster than he would have believed possible, the mermaid disappeared into the water just as a voice behind him made him jump.

  “To think, you are the spawn of Daknanyx? Unfortunate lineage.”

  Devon spun and found himself confronted by a tiny old mystic, dressed in a robe that was primarily red, with some orange and yellow adornments. A few silver chains hung around his neck. The same size as Kelli’s counselor, Dufangen, he was barely taller than Devon’s knees. He was bald, exposing the wide cat-like ears atop his head. He had thick black eyebrows, but wore a white beard and mustache that hung almost to his knees. His arms were folded monk-like inside of his robe’s wide sleeves under the beard.

  “Who are you?” Devon asked.

  The mystic stared at him, then ignored his question completely. “You are one of the three, but not the one we want. The trial cannot proceed without him.”

  “What trial? Who are you?”

  Again, Devon was ignored. “Still, perhaps the blood in your veins can be used...”

  “What the heck you talking about? Where is Uncle Krin?” Devon grew agitated as the mystic dismissed yet another question.

  “But I cannot just take you into Strenovia. Krin is our prisoner, but you are not.”

  “Prisoner?” Devon was alarmed and angry now. “What did you do to him?” He all but ran to where the mystic stood, and picked the little creature up, holding him above his head. “I need him! Answer me, already!”

  The mystic was smiling now and, without meaning to, Devon dropped him as he found himself suddenly standing in the midst of a bleak, snowy island dotted with patches of green and brown. There were little particles of light rising and vanishing around them; a sign that they had teleported somewhere through etherway
s, without using an ethergate. They had at least half a mile of land around them, surrounded by a frigid sea. The mystic spread his arms in introduction. “I am called T’rsing.” His eyes glowed red, and he shapeshifted as Devon fell backward in surprise. This was no mystic; this was another Dragon!

  The Dragon’s body became almost tubular, stretching for what had to be nearly a hundred feet. His scales matched the colors of his robe, and he was at least ten feet thick. Like Krin Ahgl, T’rsing wove vanity items like jewelry and silken ether robes to wear over his Dragon form. Devon couldn’t tell where T’rsing’s neck or tail began, but his head was in the exact shape as Krin’s, Bennett’s, and his own. The only difference was that T’rsing had a whispy, white beard beneath his chin, and a matching mustache that drooped over the sides of his maw. The old Dragon had six wings that folded to act as legs, evenly spaced in three pairs along the length of his body. His claws crunched through the snow and dirt as he found his footing, his snake-like body arching and curling into a menacing pose.

  “Krin Ahgl has been imprisoned, pending trial. You have come looking for him, but you will not find him here. He is in Strenovia, the realm of Dragons. You are yet weak, unworthy to walk the halls and meadows of our land. But you may be able to shed light on your uncle’s recent activities, which is of use to me, hatchling. It has been an age since I have crossed over to this world, and I now remember the pursuits of pleasure and amusement. You will engage me in jharakh, sport-combat, if you wish to see Krin Ahgl again. The only path to Strenovia is through me. Impress me, and I will open the door. Bore me, and I will leave you to wander as the wyrm you are,” his powerful voice rumbled into the empty landscape.

  “I don’t know what you just said,” Devon replied, “but if you like me kick your ass so bad, then fine. Bend over.”

  T’rsing surprised Devon with a roar of laughter, but there was no humor in the laugh. “You are just as arrogant as Daknanyx, that is for certain! Come! Prove yourself to me!”