by Eve Langlais
“You know, it would be a lot easier for us both if you let me out of here so I could help you.”
“Don’t you mean try and kill me? I did, after all, overthrow your previous master.”
“You did us all a favor. My previous employer was a pompous arse.”
“So why didn’t you kill him?”
“Because one does not simply murder people.”
“Why not?”
“Because there are laws.”
“Laws are for peasants.” Or so his father had explained before he went on his final walk to feed the evil suzerain.
“This isn’t the Dark Ages anymore, boy. We live in enlightened times where there are laws that apply to all, rich or poor.”
“Not kings.”
“Even kings.”
But who made the laws to rule the kings? He smiled. “Then I shall be an emperor.”
“That might be kind of difficult, given the current rulers of the countries won’t agree to bow down to a stranger.”
“Then I will kill them.”
“Will you murder everyone who doesn’t agree?”
“Probably.” What else did he have to do? He’d promised his mother vengeance. However, Luc had yet to find Voadicia, and this dimension was much bigger and more populous than he ever imagined.
“That’s a lot of dead people. And blood.” Alfred set his cup down. “You’ll need a manservant to ensure that your uniform of doom is kept clean and presentable. A ruler should look the part.” Alfred shot him a look that held a touch of disdain.
Luc peered down at his ensemble, pilfered from a closet. The flowered blouse screamed of wealthy color—look at the patterns and all the different dyes used! The flowing skirt reminded him of the ceremonial robes his mother had described when rocking him to sleep. A mirrored reflection wasn’t needed for Luc to recognize he looked splendid.
“When I venture forth, I strike awe in the hearts of those who behold me.” They gave him a wide berth, recognizing his greatness.
“You look like a buffoon. Trust me when I say you need help.”
“And how do I know you’re to be trusted?”
“You have so much to learn.” Alfred sighed and stood. He approached the bars, stuck his hand through, and tapped the oddly lit box on the front. The light went from red to green, and the human pushed on the bars. The door swung open, and Luc frowned.
“You know magic!”
“Not exactly.” Alfred pointed at the box. “Electronic lock. All you need is the combination. These stalls weren’t meant to hold people, but livestock.”
“A dungeon for animals?” If only his previous quarters had been as spacious and clean.
“Not a dungeon but a stable. The previous owner raised horses.”
“What are horses?”
“Four-legged steeds. Tall as you, taller in some cases. Covered in hair.”
“I saw none of those in here.” When he’d arrived, the huge, aboveground dungeon was bare.
“The horses were gone before you arrived.”
“Why?”
“Does it really matter? They’re gone, and the point I was trying to make is that I was never actually a prisoner. I could have left anytime I wanted. How else do you think I got fed?”
“I thought there were servants doing that task.”
“You locked up all the servants.”
“Speaking of whom, why are they quiet? On the previous occasions I entered, they emasculated themselves, begging for release.”
“I let them go.”
“You released my prisoners?” Luc drew himself tall and glared at Alfred, who, though hunched and old, wasn’t that much shorter.
“Don’t worry. I lied and told them you were playing a prank. Told them you were the previous castle owner’s nephew and then gave them some money, along with a warning to say nothing to the coppers.”
Sounded quite efficient, and explained the lack of screaming. Best of all, Luc didn’t have to deal with any of it. Good thing, because he’d been at a loss for what to do. He focused on the last thing Alfred said. “You know the Copper dragons?”
“Coppers, as in police. Those who enforce the laws.”
“Perhaps we should call them since you admit to stealing from the larders! No wonder the shelves are bare. It would serve you right if I sent you to the market to replace the items you removed.” Then, he wouldn’t have to go.
“I’ll go, but only if you admit you need me,” Alfred stated.
“Me, need you?” Luc scoffed. “I have no need of a human’s aid.” Pride made him say it even as he heard his father admonishing him to take all the help he could get.
“You can cut the crap with me, sir.” Luc liked the sound of the sir bit. “It’s obvious you’re not from around here, and I’m not going to ask where or why. That’s your business. But you’re obviously someone. And you need help. I can provide that.”
“Exactly what are you suggesting?”
“Shopping, for one, since you’re so adverse. But also teaching you how to fit in.”
The man sought employment, but Luc remained skeptical. “Why? Why would you help me?”
Alfred shrugged. “Why not? I’m old and not in the mood to retire, but at the same time, who will hire me? I’ve got no kin left to speak of. And now that you’ve rid me of my previous employer, no purpose.”
“I have a purpose.” Revenge, followed by ruling the world.
“You do, but at the rate you’re going, you’ll never achieve it. You have much to learn if you’re going to survive.”
Luc rubbed his chin. “You wish to be my advisor?”
The human nodded.
While his first impulse was to scoff at the help—after all, even in his dimension, he’d heard of the barbaric humans from another plane—he held his tongue. It would seem the knowledge Luc had of humans was outdated. They’d grown since their last contact with his dimension. Evolved, and could now prove useful in his quest for revenge against the dragons.
Luc smiled. “Very well, consider yourself my advisor. As your first task, I need you to fetch me supplies from the village.” Because he was hungry, and the cold box in the kitchen didn’t magically replenish itself.
At least the hot water in the bathing chamber seemed never-ending. As well as the flow of fluid from things the old man called faucets.
No more visiting the well room with that massive hole in the ground. Long, thick chains dropped down the deep shaft. Each held a huge, steel bucket. It took more than a few bodies using all their strength to haul them to the top of the chute, the edges slick and slippery. There’d been a few incidents.
The drawing of water once the rivers went dry was a thankless chore reserved for the children, enslaved and prodded to go faster by the overseers. The underage prison gangs banded together and heaved on the chains, trying not to stumble on the wet stone. Since the hole in the ground had swallowed six—their screams a chilling echo as they fell—they’d tethered the front of the chain to the wall. The suzerain had wanted her water for her bath. Never mind that she could have used magic to do it. She enjoyed watching them suffer.
The suzerain was a vile dragon who needed to be found so Luc could end her miserable life. She, more than any other, was the reason his world had died. Why he was all alone.
Some of the blame also rested on her blubbery minions. Those two corpulent pustules upon his world might have hidden Luc from her notice and finally freed him from his prison; however, they shared the blame with Voadicia. They would be held accountable.
Vengeance: it kept Luc going since his hopes for a future and a progeny had been dashed because of a mad dragon’s quest to live forever.
But was it really over for him? I could breed and keep my line alive.
With a human? At best, he’d father half-breeds. If it even worked. They were such a fragile race. Prone to weakness.
What of dragons?
He knew it was possible to mate successfully with them. Some of thos
e imprisoned centuries after their arrival were hybrids. Those halflings hadn’t been spared when the suzerain needed their life force to sustain herself.
However, breeding with a dragon would mean forgiving what they’d done.
Never.
He’d rather die alone than mate with a dragon.
Chapter Three
“Are you sure you’re not available to mate?” Joanna—the Emerald Sept representative—asked yet again.
Babette shook her head. “Sorry. Now that the Golden one is back, I don’t have to pop out babies.” On account that they now could successfully mate with humans.
It used to be that humans and dragons made sterile male wyverns. However, with the return of the Golden dragon and with the help of magic, they could now perform the ritual to turn wyverns into full dragons. It just took time—and money.
The Silver Sept knew how to earn coins for the crown. Charging families to elevate wyverns to full status meant big bucks.
But the true power and wealth lay in arranged marriages. Babette, being the daughter of a Silvergrace, those chosen to be the king’s left and right hands, was a coveted prize.
Elspeth didn’t have such esteemed roots, and yet she felt as if she should let Joanna know of her availability. “I’m single.” Elspeth waved her hand. However, Joanna, in obvious need of glasses and a hearing aid, didn’t notice.
“I have a nephew, late twenties, good teeth, impeccable hygiene. He would be perfect for you.”
“Does he have a hole in the middle? I like my partners without the sausage, if you get what I mean.” Babette freely announced her preference.
Joanna didn’t even blink. “In that case, I’ve got a niece you might like.”
“Stop throwing bodies at me. Not interested.” Babette was being so polite when what she probably really wanted to say was that she still found herself heartbroken that Elspeth had chosen to gently rebuff her advances.
Perhaps I should revise my stance. Babette is a lovely catch, after all. Yet Elspeth couldn’t muster more than a friendly liking that didn’t resemble lust in the least.
“If you change your mind…” Joanna smiled, her entire demeanor friendly.
Elspeth found it a refreshing change from the grumpy Silver and Blue Septs with their haughty airs and perpetual frowns. Not to mention their threats every time she tried to hug a smile out of them. They obviously hadn’t received enough affection as children.
“If we’re done trying to marry me off, could we get back to the reason we’re here?” Babsy asked.
Elsie had chosen to give her bestie a nickname as cool as her own. Babsy complained about it, but Elspeth knew she secretly loved it, else why threaten to shave her curls?
“Ah, yes. False alarm,” Joanna tittered. As a person who tittered often, Elspeth recognized it as being fake. “I am terribly sorry you flew all this way. We tried to contact the king and cancel our request for aid, but you’d already set out. It seems it was all a misunderstanding.”
“Humor me, would you? I mean, we’re here, and we’ll still have to write a report to justify the expenses.” Babette smiled, and yet Elspeth noted it didn’t reach her eyes. “Why don’t we start with you explaining what exactly people saw in the sky?”
“They saw a dragon.”
“Really? Because your initial report to the king indicated it was most definitely not a dragon.”
“It turns out we were wrong. Seems it was one of our younger members sneaking out at night. A trick of the light made it seem like something different than it was.”
Elspeth cocked her head with interest since it was very clear Joanna was lying.
“Tell me about the dragons who went missing.” Babsy might have pretended to nap on the flight over, but had obviously found some time to read up on the mission. Gold star for her bestie!
“No one missing. Just young’uns who put a scare into us all. Testing their boundaries. Part of some weird social media game they play. Something called forty-eight hours.” There was that false titter again.
More lying. Elspeth might have said something; however, Babette already wore a frown and questioned some more.
“What of the humans? Did they return, as well?”
Joanna shrugged, her appearance slick. “How would I know? And why would I care? Humans go missing all the time. Since when is that our concern?”
“As a representative for the crown, I think we should all be concerned about the plight of humans who go wandering because they don’t have owners to care for them. Have you thought about adopting one? I can hook you up with a doctor who can spay or neuter them, so you don’t have to worry about adopting out babies.” Elspeth smiled.
Joanna gaped before turning to Babette. “Is she for real?”
“Unfortunately. Back to the teens who went missing and came back. I’d like to speak with them.”
“They’ve nothing to say.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
Joanna’s brow creased. “Are you implying something?”
Elspeth jumped in to ease the situation. “What my bestie means to say is that her mind would be greatly eased if she could see for herself that the teens in question were, in fact, off experiencing life and not the victims of a predator.”
“It wasn’t just teens.” Joanna’s chin tilted. “I was one of those who went missing. And I assure you, I am fine. Nothing happened. I just needed some time alone.”
“Where did you go?”
“None of your business.”
“Who did you go with?” Babette fired another question.
Rising to her feet, Joanna’s gaze turned icy. “I don’t like your tone.”
“I don’t like your hair.”
Babette and Joanna stood toe to toe, and Elspeth could practically see the sexual energy simmering between them. What else to explain the irrational anger?
“Now, now, lovebirds. Let’s take things down a notch. Joanna, you need to remember you’re married, and while I realize you can’t help being attracted to my bestie—she is, after all, quite the catch—you will have to restrain yourself. It’s unseemly.”
“I am not—”
“Are you insane—?”
Ah, the protests. Elspeth nodded, keeping her smug smile to herself. She was so good at reading people.
Joanna’s lips pressed into a tight line. “I think we’re done.”
“No, we’re not.” Babette shook her head. She did it so often it probably explained the smoothness of her neck. Elspeth tended to nod in agreement, which she believed helped prevent multiple chins.
“There is nothing for you to investigate. Return to the USA and tell your king—”
“He’s not just mine, he’s yours, too,” Elspeth declared. “He is the Golden one, the dragon foretold. After centuries of waiting, he has returned to guide his loyal subjects.”
“He’s not the only choice out there,” Joanna remarked, referencing Samael, the half-dragon, and Brand, the genetically created one.
“Only Remiel is the true Golden king. The others lack his purity. His—”
Joanna’s lips pulled into a sneer. “He is a stranger and a possible madman. Why else would Parker and the Crimson Sept have held him prisoner? They obviously knew something about your king.”
“Like what?” Babette asked.
“I guess we’ll never know since Parker and most of the upper Crimson echelon are dead. Convenient, I’d say,” Joanna uttered dryly.
“Are you implying that he murdered them?” Elspeth couldn’t help a high note. “Our king is the most honorable dragon there is.”
“Is he?”
Elspeth struggled to keep her smile. Don’t frown. Don’t get mad. Remember what happens when you get angry. A good thing she’d taken her pills that morning.
“Let’s go, Elsie.” Babette grabbed her by the arm and dragged her toward the door. “This cow is obviously deranged and a traitor.”
“Cow?” Joanna screeched. “Why you inbred Silve
r bitch. Get out and don’t come back.”
Despite Joanna acting out because she couldn’t have Babette, and the fact that the Emerald doubted their king’s rule, Elspeth knew the right thing to do. “Glad to meet you and even happier that all is fine with your Sept. Should you require aid in the future, we would be delighted to provide assistance.” They may not provide it in a timely fashion, however.
The door firmly slammed shut behind them, cutting off any lingering goodbyes, which was very responsible of the Emerald dragoness as it would keep out the drafts that would drive up the home heating expenses. Mother had explained that to Elspeth after an unsuccessful bout of door-to-door knocking requesting donations for a worthy cause. Namely, the eradication of toilet paper to save the environment. It didn’t prove popular, and even Elspeth had abandoned the idea when the leaves she’d gathered left a rash on her tushie.
“What a cow that woman is. Treating us like crap.” Babette whirled on the door and lifted her foot.
“It’s not the door that should be punished.” Elspeth grabbed the foot before it could connect and tugged her bestie down the steps.
Babsy had great balance, and hopped along, keeping up. “What the hell, Elsie? I need to kick that cow’s ass.”
“I realize your attraction to Joanna is great. Your anger for each other made that clear. However, we did not come to Ireland to wreck her marriage. Although, if her husband were to suffer an unfortunate accident…”
“Are you insane?”
“Not according to the asylum Mother sent me to.” They’d poked and prodded her. Given her all kinds of colored pills. But in the end, once she’d learned what to say, they’d declared her normal with a heightened state of optimism. A real ray of sunshine—which, for some reason, made her mother cry.
“Sometimes I wonder about you, Elsie.”
She used to wonder about her sanity, too. People thought her blind to what happened around her. She saw it, saw more than they imagined. She just preferred to look at the lighter side. The positive.
She had to because of the darkness… Stay away from it.
Happy face. Elspeth beamed at Babette. “I am delighted to hear you’ve been wondering about me, bestie. I wonder about you, too.”