The Harry Ferguson Chronicles Box Set

by William David Ellis

  Peter Fawkes turned again toward Harry, growling, “There is no one else!”

  “There is one more.”

  “Who?”

  “You.”

  Fawkes screamed. Harry’s words stabbed him through the heart. He lunged for Harry, who leaped out of the way, bursting the car door off its hinges, then stood outside the car watching as the giant demolished the rest of the vehicle, his screams shattering the night.

  Chapter 24

  Kusaila tossed in his large bed. Unlike most nights in the desert, it was hot. The morning sun would soon creep over the horizon, and that would just make it worse. The Sirocco, a scorching dusty wind, had begun blowing a few hours before and did not look to be letting up anytime soon. The sand got everywhere, and in spite of years of acclimation the Berber people were not fans of desert heat or wind.

  Kusaila rose from his bed and went to his writing desk. It was a European invention that he had discovered on a trip to Rome as a young man. He had brought it home and used it ever since. Kusaila kept a journal. He was one of the few people in his tribe who could read and write. As king he saw it as an absolute necessity, and insisted that all his tribal leaders also know. Tonight, he dipped his pen into the inkwell and wrote,

  What am I doing? Is it selfish? Or are my elders right, and it is time? Long past time, they say. To take a wife. I have found a beauty, a dragon shifter like me, a queen fit for my people, both a warrior and a compassionate and wise advisor. And I should not care about anything else. But I do. My mother once told me it is better to love than be loved. I am no longer sure of that. I know I love Sarah, but…

  He paused with his hand above the parchment. He stopped so long the pen formed a drip that splashed onto the page. He dipped the quill in the tiny stain and continued.

  I also know she is in love with another. And that shadow hovers over her, tormenting her. She loves me in a way. But is that enough? Is it right for me to steal her heart… and that is what it would be. I would be a thief and Sarah would be my lifelong captive if I allow this to happen. Thieves do not make good rulers. Because they are selfish by nature and that selfishness eventually penetrates into everything a selfish person does. But…

  And he dipped his pen in the ink again and waited as he shaped his words.

  What about my people? They need a queen, they need heirs, and they love Sarah and she loves them. Is that enough?

  As Kusaila paused over the manuscript, he heard the moan of the hot winds. Then he listened again; someone was at his tent door. He could smell them. Then his heart skipped. It was Sarah.

  He got up quickly and moved to the door. She had paused at his threshold long before daybreak in the middle of a sandstorm!

  As Kusaila pulled back the tent curtain, he caught her turning away. “Oh, Kusaila!” She jumped back, smoke involuntarily curling from her nose. “I ah… I ah…” she stuttered, trying to find words that wouldn’t come.

  “Need to talk?”

  “Yeah, I need to talk. And I know it is stupid and it’s hot and windy. But that just describes me most days anyway. So here I am.”

  “Weren’t you about to turn away?”

  Caught, she snorted then blushed in the dark, and he only knew that because he could feel her heartbeat and temperature rise.

  “I was, but not anymore.”

  “Come in, Sarah.”

  As she crossed the threshold and the curtains closed behind her, she saw the writing desk and walked toward it. She noticed the ink was wet and then saw her name on the page and read. Kusaila moved to tear the page from her hand but paused when he saw her raised eyebrows and glistening eyes. He couldn’t tell if she was angry or sad. She turned toward him and let him know.

  “What is it with men! No matter what age they live, or what form they can take, the good ones always take on more responsibility than they should, and won’t share it! Kusaila, Berber king of the great people of this land… and the man who is to be my husband, I am about to go all dragon on you. Combine that with my East Texas upbringing and you, sir, are about to get scorched!”

  Both hands were on her hips, smoke curled out her nose, and flame hid behind her eyes. Kusaila gulped. He had not had a butt chewing since his mother had died, but he remembered the signs.

  He backed up from Sarah’s tiny frame. Compared to him she looked like an undersized child. He felt a stool behind him and sat down hard. She stopped a few feet in front of him. She was fuming.

  Then she looked at him. He was grinning at her. And not just grinning, his face looked like a jackass eating briars. He actually laughed at her… and that only made her madder. For a second she couldn’t help herself, shaking her head and pointing a finger at him. Then her sour expression softened and she rolled her eyes and grinned back. He stood, gently grasped her head between his hands, and bent to kiss her. Her eyes closed as she enjoyed his touch. Standing on tiptoe she kissed him back. She still wasn’t sure of herself and was uncertain, desperately seeking for approval in his eyes. She found it in his kiss. Both of their bodies started to glow like the burning embers dragons were born from.

  And then Kusaila shuddered and stepped back. She looked up at him, confused. And she heard it: the sound of the battle horn. They were under attack.

  Chapter 25

  Jude stood outside the library door with his hand on the knob and once again tried to dissuade Lizzy from her course of action. “Lizzy,” he said as he turned toward her while backing away from the door, like it was a live bomb in some Middle Eastern desert. “You would’ve never made Thomas do this! I don’t even know if it can be taught. And I do not know how to teach it. Why didn’t you ask Shani or Brian? They know the kids and—”

  Lizzy interrupted him with a single arched eyebrow. Those things were sharp and barbed. They were tips of scathing fury that once thrown were hard to dislodge because they just kept coming till the target surrendered.

  “Jude, quit stalling and get your butt through that door.” The grin that accompanied the command eased the push but still didn’t satisfy Jude. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and walked through the door.

  Lizzy was convinced her shape-shifting babes needed a shifting mentor. Many of them were already starting to experiment with shifting. She had tripped over a few dragon tails and held a few squawlers who got one arm shifted, then got stuck and couldn’t get it to go back. It was a traumatic experience. She loved her kids and felt Jude would be good for them. He was someone they looked up to, especially when he shifted into his flying eagle form. He was also a man they trusted. They needed good, strong male role models they weren’t related to. So, Jude was the right person at the right time. And if he wanted to stay on her good side, he had just better do it and stop whining.

  Jude looked around as he entered the room. It reminded him of an ant pile that someone had taken a stick to and stirred just for meanness. He looked back at Lizzy and did not fail to notice the joy that seemed cemented into place on her gorgeous face.

  It wasn’t that Jude didn’t like kids; he loved them. It wasn’t even that he was not a good public speaker or a great storyteller, because he was. Jude just didn’t know how to teach something he had never been taught. It wasn’t like “raise your right foot while scratching your butt and counting backwards from ten.” You had to feel it, identify the moment you could shift, and then, using your imagination, push your will through your cells to conform to that image. He had no idea how he was going to teach a bunch of cookie crunchers how to manipulate their cells at a molecular level.

  Lizzy walked to the front of the room and stood. She didn’t say a word.

  “Shush!” Maggie bellowed.

  “Be quiet!” another little future schoolteacher yelled.

  “It’s time to start!” Maggie yelled again, looking straight at Ryan, who had not stopped chatting with Easton.

  “Don’t tell me wha…” he growled back at her, then noticed Lizzy standing quietly. “Oh, oh, okay.”

  Within second
s a hush settled over the room. They scurried to the little chairs and plopped their bouncy bottoms on them. All but one, that is. Gracie was missing. Lizzy frowned, scanned the room, and then spotted her. She was peeking around one of the large bookshelves. As soon as she saw Lizzy notice her, she waved and beckoned. She hadn’t wanted anyone in the room to see her, but of course they did. Every eye turned, like sunflowers following the sun, to see what Lizzy was frowning at. Several hands covered their mouths.

  Easton started to giggle and Bradley elbowed him. Bradley, who was a little sweet on Gracie, got up and started to walk toward her, but Lizzy stopped him with a look. Jude, stunned by Lizzy’s ability to control a horde of buzzing cookie crunchers shook himself free of his stupor and followed Lizzy into the book stacks. Just as soon as Jude and Lizzy walked out of sight, the whole room surged right behind them.

  “What happened?” Maggie asked in a barnyard whisper that caused Lizzy to roll her eyes and yell back.

  “I better not find anybody out of their seats when I turn around!”

  The same horde that had surged like a large gelatinous blob toward the stacks sucked itself back with reverse lightning. Only two chairs were knocked over and no one suffered permanent damage.

  Lizzy didn’t notice. Her eyes were fixed on the little blond pigtailed girl standing in front of her, dressed in a flowered sundress with a large green dragon tail dragging behind her. Tears raced down Gracie’s red cheeks. Lizzy bent to hold her and patted her on the back.

  “I got stuck!” she sobbed. “And I tried to fix it…”—sob, sob, gasp for breath—“and it only got bigger and worse.”

  Lizzy pulled back from Gracie, and the schoolmarm to the rescue, fix anything but a broken heart look came on her face. “Gracie Roo Hackney, did you miss breakfast this morning?”

  “Huh?” the little girl puzzled. “Breakfast?”

  Jude stepped in, realizing this might be why Lizzy coerced him in the first place. “Grace, my name is Jude.”

  “Hi, Mr. Jude,” she whispered, gazing at the floor while trying futilely and discreetly to shove her large green appendage under the back of her sundress.

  “The reason Miss Lizzy is asking about your breakfast is that it takes energy to shift into a dragon, and if you don’t eat a good breakfast you don’t have a whole lot of energy, so you don’t shift well.”

  “Oh my!” Her eyes widened. Then her tail popped like a spring out from under her skirt. Lizzy ducked her head, trying not to loose the laughter she barely held in check. It was like shoving a cork in Mount Vesuvius.

  Jude was not helping. When Gracie’s tail popped out he lost it, bending over with the jerks and almost choking. Large tears welled up in Grace’s eyes and she began to sob again. Jude choked back his laughter and yelled, “Watch, Gracie!”

  He pulled back out of the stacks and with the little dragonette’s eyes fastened on him flashed into a large eagle. At first, he was just trying to hide the fact that he was still laughing when it hit him. Another flash and he was human again, only this time he had one eagle wing and one human arm.

  Hearing the other kids gasp, Lizzy whirled like a mom with eyes in the back of her head to see their commotion and then scowled. Jude turned back to Gracie and said, “Hon, it happens to everybody once in a while.” He reached down with his single hand and stroked her head. “Now don’t fret. It’s part of learning. If you just relax, your energy level will build back up and you will be able to tuck in that tail in no time, okay? And I tell you what. I will not fix my wing,” he flopped it around like a rubber chicken bone, “until you get your tail tucked in, okay?”

  Gracie smiled in spite of herself, and Jude continued, “And then I am going to run down the street and buy three dozen doughnuts so everyone will have a whole lot of energy. And we can all practice shifting. How’s that?”

  Gracie nodded and then peered up at Jude. The look of adoration told him her reaction was a little close to idol worship. He didn’t notice that Lizzy’s face held a similar expression that quickly turned to a scowl when he mentioned three dozen doughnuts.

  Lizzy’s deep-seated fussing frown transformed into her normal smirk. She shouted to the children who had managed to crawl back out of their chairs and hover around Jude, some touching his feathers, “Yep, and as soon as Mr. Jude gets those warm glazed doughnuts and you gulp them down and the sugar surge powers you into new levels of boundless energy, I am going to leave you with him and go get a pedicure.”

  “Yeah! We get to play with Mr. Jude!”

  “Hurrah! Can I ride on your back, Mr. Jude?”

  “Will you take me flying?”

  “Can you really teach us to fly? I tried last year and jumped off the barn and broke my arm.”

  “Yep, and his mom threatened to break his other arm if he did it again!”

  “I wanta fly first.”

  “No, I want to go first.”

  “No, me.”

  “Hey, watch out. Quit shoving!”

  Jude looked back at Lizzy. A perfectly angelic innocence blinked back, tilting her halo and hiding her devious nature.

  “It’s going to be a long day, isn’t it?” He sighed.

  “Not for me, Jude. I’m going to get a pedicure and I might even get a massage while I’m at it. You be sure and lock up when you leave and do not let them practice flaming in the house. I’m sure the city has no desire to rebuild this old house again.”

  Chapter 26

  Belle knew she had to move quickly. It would not be long before Laden Long opened the box and realized she had deceived him. She had to decide what to do with the thorn and whether to flee or fight. She hated the idea that Harry Ferguson was about to walk into a viper pit. But she had warned him repeatedly. Her temperature rose as she thought, He’s going to walk right in here knowing what’s going to happen to him. He is alone, he has no chance, yet he’s coming anyway. Her hand gripped the arm of the chair and clenched. She heard the fabric rip and jerked her hand back. Well, I don’t have to die with him. I am leaving this place while I still can.

  Then she exhaled a long guilty breath and clenched both chair arms. But if I were in similar circumstances, he would not hesitate to come for me! But I’m not him. I am not an honorable fool on a forlorn mission. I am a witch. And even though I disagree with the plans to call up the strongman, I know Germany has to win and stop Russia. I’ve seen the results of timelines where they did not. Okay, that settles it; the present is not as important as the future and I have to do what I have to do. Belle grit her teeth so hard she could hear them grinding. And Harry will do what he thinks he has to do. And he will die a horrible death, as will his friends, and his daughter will never exist. My daughter will never exist… Argh that man!

  Belle Rodum’s internal conflict was halted by a knock on the door. Already? Have I been discovered already? The knock continued. If that were Long, he would have forced the door. Rising, she approached the door and cautiously cracked it. A bearded man in his late twenties, wearing a long-sleeve red-checked flannel shirt buttoned at the top, stood outside. He made eye contact with her and smiled. His eyes were brown with streaks of grey. She thought, Harry? She peered closer and realized, although he was similar, she was not looking at Harry Ferguson.

  “May I come in, Ms. Rodum?”

  She wanted to slam the door in his face but sensed that would be a wrong move. She stared at him. He stared back patiently. Then she opened the door, motioning for him to enter. As he did she spied down the hall, saw no one, and closed the door.

  Belle turned toward the man and again was struck by how much he favored Harry Ferguson. She didn’t say anything but waited.

  The young man introduced himself. “Ms. Rodum, I am Marc Cadish. I know you kept the thorn, and I am here to help you decide how best to use it.”

  Belle did not react; her nature and training both kicked in. Her instinct was to deny the allegation, but her ability to read people told her the young man knew who and what she was and that she had t
he thorn.

  “You are conflicted, angry, and afraid. You have some very difficult decisions to make, and there is no easy way out of this for you. Whether you run or surrender the thorn or even if you determine to fight the plans of those running this project, you are going to suffer. The decisions you must make will have severe consequences.”

  Belle didn’t realize she had been holding her breath. She swallowed and realized her mouth was very dry. She wasn’t used to asking herself what the right course of action was, only what was best for her. Now the thin tapestries of those kinds of choices were revealed for the rotten fabric they were. She stepped back from the man. Made her decision and reached into her pocket. She gently grasped the thorn and handed it to him.

  He cocked his head listening, then looked back at her and shook his head. “I’m afraid it’s too late now.”

  A loud shout broke the moment. Laden Long followed by Cadmus and the naga charged into the room. Before she could react, they seized Belle and threw her on the floor. She flinched as they bound her with silver handcuffs that cut into her wrists with a hundred small barbs, sinking into her flesh and sticking.

  “Belle Rodum, I arrest you in the name of Adolf Hitler the Führer of Germany,” Laden Long barked. And then leaned into her and said, “Really, Belle, you didn’t think I would notice? Now give me the thorn!”

  He didn’t allow her time to respond but dug into her pockets. Finding nothing, he frisked her thoroughly. Still finding nothing, he gripped her by the throat, squeezing off her air supply. She started to struggle, her eyes bulging, her face turning blue. Then he stopped. She coughed, gasping, and he hovered over her again. “Where is it?”

  She stared back at him and tried to laugh, but it sounded like a rasping asthmatic, her bruised and swollen throat not obeying her. “I don’t know. I really don’t know.”

  Laden slapped her several times. Blood splattered from her broken lips. Realizing she would hold out for more time than he had available at the moment, he pulled back and beckoned to the two supernatural creatures holding her. “Take her away. I will deal with her soon.”