The Dragon of New Orleans

by Genevieve Jack

  The wings began to refold, then disappeared before they were even near collapsing into her back. Gabriel inhaled sharply, but it seemed the others in the room didn’t notice the failed enchantment.

  “Darling?” Brynhoff yelled toward the sanctuary behind the throne room. “Can you come here? We have a situation.”

  So his uncle had taken a consort. Gabriel wanted to vomit. To think a female of his species was supporting this murderer… this dictator! What kind of dragon would do such a thing? Unless he was forcing her? Gabriel ground his teeth, the hilt of his dagger hot and heavy in his hand.

  There were footsteps, and then Gabriel nearly dropped to his knees. His mother, Eleanor, stepped onto the dais. She was very much alive and dressed in royal garb! Gabriel’s stomach clenched. How could this be true? He’d thought she was dead. If she was alive, why hadn’t she sent for him and his siblings? All at once, his world stopped and spun in the opposite direction. His mother paused to kiss Brynhoff on the lips before crossing to the empty throne, her citrine ring glowing like a star.

  Although Raven had instantly disliked King Brynhoff, she had reason to do so. This was Gabriel’s uncle, the man who had killed his oldest brother, Marius, rather than relinquish the throne. He was as smug and pretentious as Gabriel had described. His embroidered robes and crown of jewels made her physically nauseous. Still, the hate that flooded her when the royally garbed woman stepped to Brynhoff’s side was both stronger and completely unfounded. Raven had never met this woman and could only assume she was Brynhoff’s new consort, a replacement for Gabriel’s mother whom he’d killed.

  The woman had hair the color of a starless night and eyes that shone silver around oversized pupils. She was plump, but her above-average height gave her a noble quality that belied the joviality of her round cheeks. It was her scent that made the nape of Raven’s neck prickle. An acrid stench like melted plastic that turned her stomach. Dark magic. She’d remember that stench always. Repulsed, Raven had to breathe through her mouth so she didn’t vomit.

  “I don’t know you,” the woman said to Raven. “Why have you come to Paragon?”

  “I didn’t come here. I live here.” Raven lied slowly, steadily. The secret to a good lie was to trick one’s mind into believing it was true, if just for a moment. Raven pictured herself working in the backroom of the Silver Sunset. “As I said before, I am Freya, the daughter of Roosevelt of the Silver Sunset. I was minding my own business when these three men accosted me and accused me of being a witch. I am no such thing, and I wish to be returned to my father.”

  “She has shown us her wings, Eleanor,” Brynhoff said. “She is a dragon.”

  The one called Eleanor’s eyes narrowed. “It is a sad story you tell me, girl, but you must understand, my most powerful seer, Aborella, foretold that a daughter of Circe would visit our realm this Pyre Night. She would come with thievery on her mind and death in her heart. We cannot take any chances with such a menace.”

  “Circe—” Raven said, keeping her voice neutral. “I am not a descendant of anyone named Circe.”

  “No. As a dragon, you wouldn’t be. Do you know the story of Circe?”

  “Not as well as I am sure you do, my queen,” Raven said.

  “Empress!” Eleanor snapped. “Do not insult me.”

  “My apologies, Empress.” Raven bowed her head.

  Her stomach clenched. It was obvious by the crown on her head that matched Brynhoff’s that she was royalty, but if this woman was calling herself empress, that meant she and Brynhoff had taken on additional power since Gabriel left Paragon. How had the monarchy changed in three hundred years? She eyed the citrine ring on the queen’s finger, so much like Gabriel’s emerald.

  “At the beginning of time, when dragons roamed only in their beastly forms, there existed a powerful goddess named Circe. Circe was skilled at witchcraft. Some would say she was the most powerful enchantress of all time. She lived on a magical island in a realm far, far away from Paragon. She took a human as a lover and bore a son, but unbeknownst to her, the lover who warmed her bed belonged to another goddess. The other goddess threatened to kill the boy, and Circe desperately needed a way to protect her son.”

  Raven tried her best to control her reaction. Circe? From Greek mythology? This was Earthly folklore. She bit her tongue.

  “Desperate, Circe beseeched the mother of all dragons, Balthyzika, to help defend her son. In return, Circe promised the dragon and all her descendants the ability to transform into what we are today. This pleased Balthyzika, as dragons were once treated as monsters and hunted for their magic. The dragon protected Circe’s son, who lived a long, full life and bore many children. Circe followed through on her promise, giving dragons the ability to shift into our common form.” Eleanor pressed her hand to her chest. “So you see, a descendant of Circe is the most dangerous witch of all. What Circe has given, a descendant can take away.”

  “But why would she?” Raven asked.

  “Do not question me, girl.”

  “Freya,” Raven said. “Please excuse my ignorance. There is little time for study working for my father.”

  “Yes, as you’ve pointed out, you’ve been quite sheltered,” Eleanor drawled.

  A silence fell across the throne room. Raven coupled her hands in front of her hips and shifted on her feet under Eleanor’s weighty gaze. “Can I go now?”

  The empress stood, her red-and-gold robes folding around her as she crossed her arms and descended from the dais. She approached until she was standing in front of Raven, less than an arm’s length away. The empress inhaled deeply through her nose. Silently, Raven cursed. Eleanor was smelling her.

  “Remove the mask. I want to look upon you so that next time I converse with Roosevelt, I can tell him how I met his lovely daughter Freya.”

  Raven raised her hands to untie the mask.

  “I must tell you, Freya. That dress and mask remind me of one I’ve seen before, one I commissioned for my own daughter, in fact.”

  Raven stopped. “How is that possible?”

  “I was just asking myself the same question. You see, I commissioned the gown you are wearing for my daughter, Rowan, to wear to my son’s coronation over three hundred years ago. You never forget something like that. I was involved with every detail of its construction.”

  A chill crept up Raven’s spine and made her scalp tingle. If Rowan was the empress’s daughter, that would mean… “It couldn’t be the same dress, Empress. It must be a coincidence.”

  “How do you know Rowan?”

  “I don’t!” Raven protested. It wasn’t a lie. She’d never met Gabriel’s sister. Still, her voice was shaking. She was starting to panic.

  “Lies! How do you know my daughter?” the empress shouted.

  “I. Don’t.”

  All at once, the empress drew the sword from the dark guard’s hand and swung it at Raven’s neck. Raven had just enough time to gasp before an invisible force stopped the empress’s arm. Gabriel, Raven thought. He must be invisible. She inhaled his unmistakable smoky scent.

  The empress’s eyes widened, her lips beginning to tremble with rage. “What is this? Scoria, kill her! Kill her now.” Bereft of his sword, the guard reached for her with his bare hands.

  A burnt plastic stench rolled off the empress, stronger than before. Magic. The empress was casting a spell. Calling on the same magic she’d used in Crimson’s shop, Raven shot forward, grabbed the invisible mass that was Gabriel, and folded space around them. There was a moment of total darkness, the now-familiar dropping feeling, and then she was behind the empress, behind the thrones, and feeling like she might pass out from weakness.

  The echoes of the empress’s screams filled the room around her as Raven tumbled toward the floor.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Gabriel caught Raven before her head slammed into the obsidian. He swept her into his arms and spread his wings. Unable to maintain his invisibility much longer, he sought out a place to hide, tryin
g to remember the layout of the palace after so many centuries. As silently as possible, he flew into the back hall and raced for the library. Lucky for both of them, Scoria and the rest of the Obsidian Guard seemed to be concentrating their search at the front of the palace, likely assuming Raven would use her power to escape, not to move deeper into the interior.

  The door to the library was open, and Gabriel carried Raven inside as quickly and quietly as possible. Things hadn’t changed much, thankfully. The furniture had been reupholstered but was in all the same places. He navigated the maze of bookshelves and gently rested Raven on the chaise near the window.

  “Wake up. Raven, please. Wake up.” He brushed her cheek and checked over his shoulder. Thank the Mountain they were alone. He stood and paced. Something was wrong. Her breath was shallow and her skin was deathly white. She was ill, but why? Had she overused her abilities when she drained Aborella and then transported him to safety? Perhaps she needed to rest.

  He left her to search for the grimoire. The multicolored spines of the ancient tomes that made up the royal library passed by in a blur as he worked his way up and down the aisles. In the end, he couldn’t miss it. His mother’s grimoire was at the center of the room on a pedestal, its misshapen leather cover showing its age. He approached it cautiously, only noticing when he was directly in front of it that a shimmer of magic protected the pages. This was no surprise. Eleanor had always kept the book warded to defend it against unauthorized reading. He rushed back to Raven.

  “Raven,” he whispered. He lifted her shoulders. “Wake up, darling. I’ve found the book. It’s time for you to do what you came to do.” She did not rouse.

  He pressed his hand to her forehead. She was burning up, her breathing almost nonexistent. She needed a healer. He looked back at the book, then at her, and finally at his ring. He could try to steal the book or he could carry Raven. It would be impossible to leave with them both.

  Gabriel closed his eyes. It was a death sentence to leave the book behind, but there was no other choice to make. Raven was far more important to him than his own life or any hope of extending it.

  “I’ve got you, Raven.”

  Moving fast, he turned the crank to open the window above the chaise, just enough for him to squeeze through. He gathered her into his arms and climbed onto the sill. This wouldn’t be easy. He hadn’t used this much magic in centuries and was too tired to cloak them both in invisibility. The palace was heavily guarded. His only hope was to use the element of surprise.

  He kicked off the sill and flew away from the castle, the library, and his best hope of breaking the curse, racing for Tobias with Raven in his arms. The shimmer of the protective ward surrounding the castle came into view and he dove as he had before, swooping down directly toward the guards who blocked his way. The black uniforms turned, aimed, and released their arrows. He twisted and tumbled through the air, crashing through the line. With Raven in his arms, he could not use his fists, so he fought with everything he had left. His legs, his wings, his head. He bit and tore at the cheek of a young guard who collapsed in a bloody spray.

  At last he broke through the shimmering magic and took to the air again. Pain shot through his leg. He looked back to see an arrow piercing his flesh. With a curse, he flew faster until he saw the clearing in the jungle where they’d arrived. Thank the Mountain. Tobias was still waiting as promised. He threw Raven into his brother’s arms as he made a rough landing. Good thing too. His leg gave out and he tumbled to a stop. Everything hurt.

  “I see you’ve made friends,” Tobias said, setting Raven down to tend to Gabriel’s leg. He did not hesitate to break the arrow and pull each side from the wound. The pain was so intense Gabriel almost lost consciousness. It might have been better if he had. As it was, he experienced every moment of agony as Tobias rid him of the arrow and pressed a hand into the wound.

  “We have to get her home. Now,” Gabriel said. “She’s sick. I think she’s dying.”

  Tobias nodded. “Considering the circumstances, you’ll let me touch her?”

  “This is no time for jokes, Tobias. Get us out of here.”

  His brother scooped Raven up and tucked her against him with one arm. Gabriel grabbed his other. Tobias’s sapphire circled and the night split, its sections curling away to expose pure light. In a heartbeat, they were back in his apartment above Blakemore’s, Raven unconscious in Tobias’s arms and Gabriel’s leg gurgling blood. Tobias set Raven on the bed and then helped Gabriel move to her side.

  “Maiara’s healing amulet is in the box on my dresser. Bring it to me.”

  “Yes, I will allow you to borrow my amulet,” Tobias said. A growl followed the statement. He found the amulet in the box and tossed it at Gabriel, who immediately tied it around Raven’s neck.

  “Really? You’re bleeding out, brother,” Tobias said.

  “Aren’t you a doctor?”

  Tobias left the room and came back moments later with two towels and a bowl of warm water. He stuffed one on the underside of the wound and pressed the other on top. “Pressure. Don’t let up. If you were human, you’d need a hell of a lot more. Let’s hope you have enough magic left to heal yourself or Raven will have to help me plan your funeral.”

  “Don’t be dramatic.”

  “By the looks of your ring, can I assume you didn’t find the book?”

  “Oh, I found it, but Raven was already unconscious. She’s running a fever. I had to get her out of there.”

  “Did anyone see you?”

  “No.”

  “So we went to Paragon for nothing?”

  Gabriel winced as he pressed harder against his still bleeding wound. “There is something. Something I must tell you.”

  “That doesn’t sound good.”

  “Raven was taken to the throne room to face Brynhoff. I was invisible, watching, waiting to save her.”

  “You idiot. He might have scented you.”

  Gabriel nodded slowly. “Mother was by his side.”

  “What?” Tobias paled. He stumbled back, catching himself on the dresser.

  “She didn’t die, Tobias. She is ruling by his side.”

  “No. This can’t be true.”

  “She’s calling herself empress. I watched her… kiss him.”

  Tobias coughed into his hand as if the thought made him sick. “Why?”

  “Power. Plain and simple. I spoke to Riviera in the Silver Sunset before Raven was arrested. The council of elders has been disbanded.”

  Tobias growled.

  “He didn’t know it was me. I cloaked myself thoroughly, including my voice.”

  “What else did he say?”

  “Only that the volcano is getting worse.” Gabriel lowered his chin. “The Mountain is angry, Tobias. When I saw our mother…”

  “Stop.” Tobias held up a hand. “We’re back. That’s all that matters.”

  “For now,” Gabriel said.

  Tobias chuckled darkly. “Honestly Gabriel, I don’t hear from you in over a decade and now this. Careful, brother. The next thing you know, we’ll be sharing Christmas.”

  Once, when she was maybe six or seven, Raven had wanted to go horseback riding. They’d lived in rural Michigan then, two houses down from a woman who owned a mare and her colt. Raven scaled the fence and lured that young horse to her side with a piece of apple, straddling his back the same way she used to straddle tree branches. Her scraped knees hugged his bare back, her hands coiled in his mane. The horse took her for a ride, racing across the neighbor’s meadow, leaping and bucking under her weight. Raven clung to him, flat against his back, until he tired himself out.

  She was never thrown, but when she finally dismounted, every inch of her body ached, and bruises dappled the insides of her arms and legs. She felt like that now, like every muscle fiber, every bone, every cell of her body and inch of her skin had been stretched and beaten into submission. It was in this state of anguish that she became conscious, waking on the bed beside Gabriel, a moan ema
nating from someplace deep within her. Her head pounded and tears streamed from the corners of her eyes.

  “Praise be,” Gabriel said. Turning on his side, he caressed her face, her neck, her arms as if he were searching for a physical cause of her pain. “Does your head hurt?”

  She couldn’t fathom speaking above the internal pounding, but she gave him the smallest nod, careful not to rattle her brain any more than she had to. In response, he hooked his finger under a leather cord that was around her neck and removed the white amulet he’d used before on her, the one he’d said was for healing. As soon as it was off, the pain in her skull ebbed, but its elimination did nothing for the excruciating ache that lingered in the rest of her body.

  “Everything hurts, Gabriel,” she whispered. “What happened to me?”

  “I don’t know.” Gabriel placed the amulet on his leg. Raven noticed his thigh was covered in blood.

  “Your leg!”

  “It’s already healing.”

  “I have some ideas about what happened to you,” Tobias said.

  Raven turned her head to find him standing by the fireplace. A fire crackled in the grate. It was the first time she’d ever seen it used.

  Gabriel cleared his throat. “I filled Tobias in on what we experienced in Paragon.”

  Tobias groaned. “Yes, I heard all about our dear murderous mother and her insatiable appetite for power. To think how she deceived us all. Such an elaborate scheme.”

  “Your mother? That was your mother.” Raven couldn’t fathom it.

  “Yes. That was Eleanor, and she was not dead as we thought but ruling beside our brother’s murderer,” Gabriel said.

  “It’s too horrible.” Raven couldn’t wrap her head around it. “But she kissed your uncle? Isn’t that her—”

  “Brother?” Gabriel finished. “Yes. And in case you’re wondering, that’s not any more acceptable in Paragon than it is here.”

  The fire crackled.

  “She betrayed you.” Raven’s heart hurt for them.