by Rachel Aaron
“Not herself,” Myron said. “Algonquin’s a spirit. She has plenty of her own power, but she can’t move magic. That power belongs to humanity alone.”
“Which is why it’s no coincidence that Algonquin also controls the largest standing army of mages in the world,” the general finished. “I’m not a mage myself, but I’m pretty sure that many mages working together would be more than enough to strip the Three Sisters of all their remaining power.”
A week ago, Julius would have said it was impossible. The Three Sisters were dragon legends. No human, not even an army of them, could possibly handle that much magic. But that was before he’d seen Marci draw a quarter-mile-wide circle to drain Vann Jeger. A feat that, though it hadn’t exactly gone as planned, had definitely changed his perception of how much magic a human mage could handle. Now, he found the idea of an army of mages converting what was left of the Three Sisters into magic over the course of a few days very believable, especially since Katya was already nodding her head.
“It’s worse than you think,” she said. “Svena—”
She was cut off as her sister barked something sharp in Russian, prompting Katya to roll her eyes. “What’s the point?” she asked over her shoulder. “They already know. We might as well try to fix things.” She turned back to Julius. “As I was saying, Svena was the first to figure it out. She’d always dreamed of forming her own clan, but Algonquin’s attack forced her to accelerate her plans. Due to the unique way we were born, all of our magic was intimately connected to our mothers. We could feel her draining them, and Svena theorized that if we stayed linked together as part of their clan, there was a chance Algonquin would figure out how to drain us as well.”
“So she cut the tie first,” Julius said, nodding. “But Algonquin still has the Three Sisters. Even dead, how much magic could she get?”
Katya’s already pale face turned white. “A lot,” she said quietly, glancing at the UN team, who were listening patiently. “I came here hoping to find out what they knew about it. Now that we’ve severed the connection to our mothers, we can’t feel how much of their magic Algonquin has stolen. For all we know, she’s already salvaged enough to completely replenish what she used up shooting them down in the first place.”
A cold dread began to creep up Julius’s spine. “So you’re saying her whatever-it-was, the weapon that blasted the Three Sisters out of the sky, could already be up and running again?”
“I wouldn’t go so far as that,” Sir Myron said. “But you’re not far off.”
Julius began to shake. Just yesterday, he’d argued they had plenty of time before Algonquin’s weapon recharged, enough to do things properly. Now, he had no idea. Considering they were up against the combined magic of the Three Sisters, he didn’t even know if Svena would be able to actually protect them as she’d promised. He was still frantically sorting through it all in his head when the general stepped forward.
“This threat is why we’re here,” she said, angling herself so that she faced all the dragons head on. “You’ve been honest with us, so we’ll be honest with you. Algonquin has indeed been using her fallen enemies as magical batteries. We aren’t sure what she’s planning on doing with all that power, but given that she’s already declared war on your kind, I’d say a full-scale attack isn’t outside the realm of possibility. As I’ve already explained, open conflict between the Heartstrikers and Algonquin would threaten all of North America, which makes it our concern as well. To that end, we are here to propose an alliance between the UN and the Heartstriker dragon clan. And yours as well, if you’d like,” she said, nodding to Katya. “It’s my hope that by sharing resources and information about our common enemy, we can come up with a way to avoid conflict completely and spare us all a great deal of pain.”
That struck Julius as uncommonly reasonable. But as much as he wanted to say that of course Heartstriker would work with the humans to stop Algonquin, there was just one problem. “I’d like to help,” he said sadly. “But Heartstriker can’t make an alliance at the moment. As my brother said when we came in, Bethesda has been overthrown, and we’ve decided to put an elected council in her place.”
For the first time since he’d met her, a look of real surprise and excitement crossed the general’s face. “Really?” she said. “A democratically elected council leading a dragon clan? That’s fantastic news!”
“Thank you,” Julius, unexpectedly flattered. Not that it was surprising that an officer of the United Nations would be a fan of democratization, but that was still the most genuinely enthusiastic response he’d ever gotten for his Council idea. Not that the general’s opinion would matter to his siblings, of course, but it still felt good to know that at least someone didn’t think he was crazy.
“Unfortunately,” he went on, “this new arrangement means we’re not in a position to help you directly until our final Council member is elected.”
The general nodded. “And when will that be?”
“I’m not sure,” Julius admitted. “But while we can’t do anything formally just yet, I see no reason why we can’t go ahead and share information while we wait. In fact.” He turned and clapped a hand on Justin’s shoulder. “My brother here is the only dragon who’s ever been inside Algonquin’s Reclamation Land and lived.”
“Don’t tell them that!” Justin roared.
“Why not?” Julius asked. “What are you worried they’re going to do? Beat Algonquin so we don’t have to?” He turned back to the UN team, who were now both staring at Justin like wolves after a piece of meat. “I also have the mage who defeated Algonquin’s dragon hunter, so—”
The undersecretary jumped like he’d been struck. “Wait,” he said, staring at Julius. “Your mage defeated Vann Jeger? Lord of the Black Narrows, spirit of the Geirangerfjord?” When Julius nodded, he added, “Your human mage?”
Julius nodded again. Proudly, this time. “Marci’s definitely human, but she doesn’t belong to me. She’s my partner, and I couldn’t have done any of this without her.”
Justin huffed at that comment, and Julius ignored him. He would have done so in any case, but right now he was busy watching the UN team exchange a series of significant looks he couldn’t decipher.
“This Marci,” the general said at last. “Is she a young woman? Short black hair? Has bracelets covered in Thaumaturgical spellwork from the Socratic school?”
“Yes,” Julius said, suddenly uneasy. “Have you met her?”
“No,” Sir Myron said, a smile spreading over his face. “But we’d very much like to.” He pulled out his phone. “Do you know when exactly she killed Vann Jeger? Would it have been the night before Algonquin shot the Three Sisters? Say early evening, your time?”
“Yes,” Julius said again, getting more suspicious by the second. “Why?”
“It’s not every day someone kills a spirit of that size,” the mage replied, typing down a series of rapid notes. “I’m just impressed.”
He finished with a pleasant smile, but Julius was more on guard than ever. He’d lived among dragons long enough to know a lie when he heard one, and he didn’t like the undersecretary’s sudden interest one bit. Unfortunately, he’d already offered Marci’s help. Revoking it now could poison his nascent peace deal, which Julius wasn’t willing to do. Especially since, other than lies just now, the humans from the UN had been absolutely truthful. Whatever else they were hiding, when it came to Algonquin at least, they were definitely on the same side. Also, no matter what suspicions he harbored, Julius was certain Marci would kill him if he ruined her chance to talk to a mage as obviously famous as Sir Myron Rollins.
“Okay,” he said at last. “I have to talk to her first, but if she agrees, we’ll set up a time for you to meet.”
“Fantastic,” General Jackson said, producing a card from her pocket. “Here’s my personal information. Any time day or night, we’re here.”
Her eagerness only made Julius more certain there was something fishy going on, but be
fore he could think of a way to probe further, the general turned to Katya. “And what about your clan?” she asked. “Will you help us against Algonquin?”
“That depends,” Katya said coldly, looking her up and down. “Are you leading the task force?”
The general nodded. “I am.”
This made Katya scowl, but in the end, she shook her head. “Immortality is too long to hold grudges,” she said with a resigned sigh. “If you were good enough to take down my friend, you must be good for something. I only hope it’s enough to stand up to Algonquin.” She looked at Julius. “My clan has allied with his. I will speak to my clan head, but I have a feeling the White Witch will follow the Heartstriker’s lead. If their Council decides to throw in with you against Algonquin, we will most likely do the same.” Her smile turned bloodthirsty. “We have a score to settle with the Lady of the Lakes.”
“We all do,” the general said with unexpected bitterness. When Katya raised her eyebrows, she explained. “I was born in Detroit.”
That sounded like as good a reason as any to hate Algonquin. “Well,” Julius said. “Unless you’ve got anything else, I think we’re done here.”
“I’m finished,” Katya said, smiling at him. “Thank you for letting me piggyback on your negotiations, Julius.”
“Thank you for coming,” he said, completely earnest. Even when her anger had made things tense, having Katya in here with him had made the whole situation much less scary.
“We’ll be on our way, then,” the general said, standing up. “Please be sure to tell your mage that we highly anticipate her call.”
“I will,” Julius said, wishing he didn’t have to.
The general smiled one more time and walked out. Sir Myron followed right on her heels, sliding his gloves back onto his hands as he went and muting the strange magic of his rings. Not that that made Julius feel better about it.
“I don’t trust him,” he whispered to Katya as they watched the two humans walk down the hall.
“Then I’d say your instincts are improving, Julius the Nice Dragon,” Katya replied. “I don’t trust him, either.” She wrinkled her nose. “He reeks of magic.”
That was a perfectly normal thing for a mage to smell like, but Julius understood what she meant. Myron’s magic had smelled…odd. Not bad, exactly, but definitely stronger than Marci’s. He was adding that to his already massive list of things to ask her about when she woke up when Katya clapped him on the shoulder.
“Be careful,” she whispered, dropping her voice to a level only he could hear. “They are not wrong about Algonquin, but humans only look out for themselves. Don’t trust them too far, especially not with your treasured mage.”
Julius didn’t see how dragons were any different, but he took her point. “I’ll be careful,” he promised. “But Marci’s not mine to order around.”
“Then just don’t tell her,” Katya advised, checking her phone. “I have to go. Svena is awake and grumpy. Pregnancy doesn’t agree with her. Unfortunately, I have to go make her grumpier still. We were hoping the news from the DFZ would be better, but it seems we should be expecting Algonquin to act sooner rather than later.” She gave Julius a serious look. “You might want to get your clan in order before that happens.”
“I’m trying,” Julius said with a frustrated sigh. “I’d have the vote today if I could, but I’m not going to push it until I’m sure we can do it right. We might only get one shot at this first Council. I mean to make it count.”
“That’s what Ian keeps saying,” Katya said, rolling her eyes. “And speak of the devil.”
The moment she finished, Julius smelled it, too, and he looked up to see Ian walking purposefully down the hall toward them.
“That’s my cue to go,” Katya said with a grimace. “Having to deal with that smooth-talking snake while he’s visiting Svena is bad enough. I’m not doing it in my free time as well.” She turned around, giving him a final grin. “Good luck, my friend.”
“Thank you,” Julius said, taking a deep breath before turning to see what his brother wanted. “Can I help you?”
Before Ian could answer, Justin cut in. Literally.
“What my brother meant to say was ‘Why are you here?’” he growled, stepping directly into the other dragon’s path.
“Certainly not to have a monosyllabic conversation with you,” Ian replied curtly. “Move.”
Justin sneered down at him, a feat that took Justin levels of freakish size and bravado given how tall Ian was as well. The two of them stayed like that for a good thirty seconds before Julius decided he’d better say something before the ballooning dragon one-upsmanship became lethal.
“It’s okay, Justin,” he said, tugging on his brother’s arm. “Ian’s on our side again, remember?”
“If by ‘our’ side you mean ‘his,’ then yeah,” Justin snapped.
“My side is your side, fool,” Ian said coldly, giving the knight a final disgusted look before turning to Julius. “I’m calling in a favor.”
Julius blinked in surprise. “What favor?”
“Remember that lovely house I gave you for a song last month?” Ian asked sweetly. “The one that’s now going to have to be completely renovated due to the extensive damage my building manager says you did to the first floor?”
“Of course I remember,” Julius said. “I lived there. But if this is about the repair bill, you should send it to Conrad. He’s the one who cut the front door open, and the rest of the wall with it.”
Considering Conrad had been under Estella’s chains at the time, that wasn’t actually fair, but Ian was already moving on. “Actually, I’m selling the whole thing as is. It’ll be a write-off, but there’s not much point in owning property in the DFZ for us right now, is there? Whatever I decide to do with my property, though, it doesn’t change the fact that you still owe me for letting you use it in the first place, and I’m calling that in.”
Justin shot Julius an I told you so look over his shoulder, but there was nothing to be done. Ian was right. Julius was in his debt, and he just waved for the dragon to get on with it.
“It’s a very small boon,” Ian assured him. “I thought I’d let you off light as a gesture of goodwill since we’re going to be working together soon.”
“David had said the same thing,” Julius said with a long sigh. “Just tell me what you want, Ian.”
“Very well,” his brother said. “I want you to have breakfast with me. Right now.”
“Breakfast?” Julius repeated, confused. “Sure, but not right now. I have to get back to—”
“Julius,” Ian said testily. “It’s eight thirty in the morning. There is nothing you have to get back to that can’t wait another hour, and you smell hungry.” He smiled at Justin. “Your lug of a guard dragon can come, too. A mark of my generous nature.”
Justin still looked surly, though he’d definitely perked up at the mention of food. To his shame, Julius had, too. He’d been a human for so long, he’d gotten used to eating like one. Now that his seal was off, though, he realized he was starving. Just the mention of food was enough to set his stomach rumbling, and from the look in his eyes, Ian had heard it.
“Come,” the dragon said, gesturing down the hall. “One breakfast, and then we’re even.”
“Just breakfast?” Julius asked. Because that sounded too good to be true.
“I might have invited a few guests,” Ian admitted. “But I think you’ll like it.”
Julius wasn’t sure about that, but given that this was payback for an entire house, breakfast seemed like a pretty small price. Also, Marci would probably be asleep for another hour at least, and if she did wake up before he was done, he’d just invite her up to join them.
That last bit of logic decided it, and Julius motioned for Ian to lead the way as the three of them walked together toward the elevator.
***
“Well,” Myron said as they stepped out of the mountain’s front entrance and into their waiti
ng car. “That went well.”
“Not as well as it could have,” Emily said as the soldier closed the armored door behind them. “You pushed too hard on the human. He suspects something.”
“So what?” Myron said, stripping off his gloves before reaching into his pocket for one of his moleskin notebooks that had been meticulously filled with ink drawings of mazes. “Even if he is suspicious, I don’t think he’ll keep her from us. He seems very reasonable for a dragon. Certainly more so than his mother. Bethesda would make us crawl on principle. This one we can work with.”
“Assuming he actually tells this Marci about us,” the general said, frowning through the tinted window at the towering mountain. “I don’t like it. He seems emotionally attached, which doesn’t bode well for the girl. Dragons—especially Heartstrikers—have a reputation for making humans do stupid things.”
“Good thing we don’t actually need the girl, then,” Myron said, turning the page. “We just need the spirit. That’s the important bit. If the vessel proves difficult, we’ll simply offer the Mortal Spirit a better home.”
Emily cocked an eyebrow. “By which I suppose you mean yourself?”
“Why not?” Myron said. “I am the greatest living mage. I’m not sure what sort of Mortal Spirit we’re dealing with yet, but I’m positive I’d be a step up from some random dragon groupie. The first Merlin should be a mage who knows what he’s doing.”
The general’s scowl deepened at the smug satisfaction in his voice, but she knew better than to wrestle the bear that was Sir Myron Rollins’s ego. To be fair, though, he was probably right. As official sorcerer to the queen of England and three-time winner of the Nobel Prize for Magic, he’d gotten his job as head of magical policy for the UN precisely because he was that good. Even Sir Myron’s greatest rivals would never claim that he hadn’t earned his positions through sheer, unstoppable, genius-level skill. It certainly wasn’t due to his winning personality.