No Good Dragon Goes Unpunished (Heartstrikers Book 3)

by Rachel Aaron

  “He won’t be,” Chelsie said. “Because I’m going with him.”

  Julius stared at her in shock, but his sister just shrugged. “I didn’t do all that work keeping you alive just to let you die now, either,” she said. “And besides, I owe your human for her help during the Vann Jeger fight. Saving her from Algonquin now will make us even.”

  That sounded like some sketchy math to Julius, but he wasn’t about to try and argue his sister out of helping. Ian, on the other hand, looked ready to pop.

  “You can’t be serious,” he said. “There’s only two places Algonquin would keep something as valuable as this Merlin sounds: her tower or Reclamation Land, both of which are currently decorated with freshly severed dragon heads. We’re talking about the spirit who shot the Three Sisters out of the sky! What hope do you possibly have of getting through this alive?”

  “And that’s just Algonquin herself,” Svena chimed in. “We haven’t even touched on her soldiers, her spirits, or the Leviathan. There’s a reason no dragon has ever been inside Reclamation Land or Algonquin’s Tower and come out alive.”

  “Actually,” Julius said with a smile. “That’s not true. There’s at least one dragon who’s survived both, and he should be waking up any minute now. He might be able to tell us something.”

  “Then let’s go,” General Jackson said, standing up. “Every moment we waste here is one more Marci is under Algonquin’s control.”

  “Follow me,” Julius said, heading out the door with Chelsie on his heels. Fredrick went next, followed by Raven and, more slowly, Sir Myron, who didn’t seem to be in nearly as much of a hurry as his partners. When it was clear Julius wasn’t going to stop, Ian left as well. Svena followed last of all, rubbing her now visibly pregnant stomach and muttering under her breath about genetic inheritance and the suicidal insanity streak all Heartstrikers seemed to share.

  ***

  For the first time ever, going to Justin for advice actually turned out to be a good idea.

  As he’d hoped, Justin had been awake and eating his weight in pizza when they’d arrived at the infirmary. He listened to the explanation of what had happened with uncharacteristic patience, and then, just as Julius was bracing for the demands that he be allowed to go on the attack with them, Justin had picked up his phone and started sketching a map in the drawing app of their shared AR.

  “Wait,” Julius said, flabbergasted. “You don’t want to go with us? You’re just going to stay here? Just like that?”

  “I’m not an idiot,” Justin growled, glaring at him as he traced his finger through the glowing display. “I might be awake, but I’m still missing half my blood, and my legs are being held together with tape. If you could wait until tomorrow, I’d be ready, but right now I’d just slow you down. A knight should be a strength, not a burden.”

  Julius still couldn’t believe it. “Really?”

  “It’s not like you’ll be on your own,” Justin said, turning his attention back to the glowing map hanging in the air between them. “You’ll have her there.”

  Julius glanced at Chelsie, who was leaning on the wall beside the door. Justin had pointedly avoiding looking at the enforcer since they’d walked in, but in the current context, there was only one her he could have meant.

  “She’ll keep you safe,” Justin went on, green eyes focused on his drawing. “Unless Mother orders her otherwise, of course. You might want to watch your back.”

  Given how his brother had ended up in that hospital bed, Julius couldn’t fault him for feeling that way. He wished Chelsie would speak up for once and tell him it wasn’t her fault, that she was their mother’s slave and had had no choice. As always, though, his sister said nothing, and Julius decided to just let it go. There’d be plenty of time later for mending fences when Marci wasn’t in mortal peril, and anyway, he didn’t want to distract Justin from the amazing piece of cartography he was currently drawing from memory in the air.

  In hindsight, he probably shouldn’t have been surprised. Justin had always had an amazing memory for detail when it came to combat-important information like terrain and landmarks. He’d also spent the last several weeks sitting on a collapsed roof staring at Reclamation Land before Julius had made him get down. Of course he’d know every in and out to the place, but what really amazed Julius was the map Justin produced for Reclamation Land’s interior.

  It looked too bizarre to be real. If Justin had been a more imaginative dragon, Julius would have thought he was making it up. Even knowing they were going into the heart of Algonquin’s land, his descriptions of endless old-growth forest, massive spirit circles, gigantic trees, and wolves the size of Buicks sounded too fantastical to be real. But Justin was as prosaic as their kind came. No matter how spectacular a picture he painted, Justin’s description focused purely on strategic importance. He even listed all the relative heights for each landmark as seen from the air so Julius and Chelsie would be able to pre-plan their escape flight course if it came to that. The whole thing was so practical and technically proficient that even though Julius was certain the landscape his brother was drawing was too big to fit inside Reclamation Land’s official borders, he still believed every bit of it.

  “There,” Justin said when he’d finished. “That’s Rec Land. You want the Tower, too? I only saw the bottom of it, but I can probably give you a good idea of scale for the sub-lake levels.”

  “No, this should be more than sufficient,” Raven said, peering down at General Jackson’s phone, where she’d accessed Justin’s map as well. “I’m certain Marci is being held in Reclamation Land.”

  Julius frowned. “What makes you say that?”

  “Because Reclamation Land is where Algonquin likes to keep her magical projects,” the spirit said authoritatively. “And because, if she is in the Tower, we’re screwed. Even if we could sneak inside, which we couldn’t, the Tower’s in the middle of Algonquin’s lake. She can flood the whole thing at a moment’s notice, which is all the time we’d have since she’d be able to feel us the moment we set foot inside her domain. But Reclamation Land is different. Algonquin might own it through and through, but it’s still land. That puts it outside of her actual waters, which means we actually stand a chance at getting inside and moving around without being spotted. It’ll still be nearly impossible, but if our choices are between nearly impossible and totally impossible, I’m going to go with that.”

  “Reasonable enough,” General Jackson said, saving the map. “Myron, what do you think?”

  “I think this is insane,” the mage said, studying Justin’s map with fear in his eyes. “Even if we’re not going in the water, it’s still spirit land. Once we cross the border, all bets are off. Even time’s supposed to move differently in there. If we’re not careful, Algonquin could trap us for centuries.”

  “She wouldn’t bother,” the general said confidently. “It would be far more efficient to kill or ransom us. Either way, we’re going in.”

  “How?” Julius asked. “Are we just going to sneak in through the city and hop the fence?”

  “Actually, I was thinking of taking a more circumspect approach,” Raven said, fluffing his feathers. “Your sister is the Planeswalker. Surely that comes with certain perks.”

  “You want to portal there?” Julius asked, scratching the last of his still-healing burns thoughtfully. “That’s…not a bad idea, actually. It would certainly save time.”

  “Assuming Amelia’s up for it,” Svena said from the doorway, where she and Ian had been hovering this whole time.

  “She told me once that she’d have to be at death’s door before she was too weak to make a portal,” Julius replied. “It can’t hurt to ask.”

  From her glare, Svena obviously thought it could, but with Marci captured and the clock ticking, Julius was ready to push a lot harder than usual. He thanked Justin several times and hurried out, rushing down the hospital hall as he mentally planned the route that would get him to Amelia’s rooms at the top of the mo
untain as quickly as possible.

  This turned out to be overkill. Now that the Council was officially complete, the mountain was emptying as fast as it had filled up. The halls that had been packed with whispering Heartstrikers just a few hours ago were now quiet and clear, creating an easy path for Julius and the rest as they raced to the elevators for the long trip up to Amelia and Bob’s private floor.

  But while getting to Amelia’s hall was infinitely easier, the walk to her door was every bit as terrifying as Julius remembered. Thankfully, Chelsie was there to find all the traps, or they would have all ended up cursed within an inch of their lives. Finally, after what felt like forever, they made it to the door. Julius opened it without knocking, bursting into her dark room. But the simultaneous apology and request for transport died on his lips when he saw what was waiting inside.

  Just like before, Amelia’s room was pitch black. The casting circle was still there, along with the requisite F in the middle—Frieda again this time, and looking none too happy about it—but Amelia was no longer standing over the spellwork like a movie sorceress. Instead, she was lying on one of Bethesda’s old fainting couches that someone had pulled right up to the circle’s edge, using her bare foot to keep in contact with the circle while she drank straight from a bottle of wine like a baby sucking on a pacifier.

  “Really,” Svena said as Julius and Chelsie ran forward. “How pathetic can you get?”

  “Amelia!” Chelsie bellowed at the same time, marching into the heavy dark like she was plunging into boiling water. That was exactly what it felt like, too: a kettle at a roiling boil. With knives in it.

  Despite looking like she was about to fall asleep, Amelia was rolling harder than ever. Her magic was so thick and sharp in the air, it was a physical force. If he hadn’t been so desperate to get to Marci, Julius never would have gone inside. Thankfully, the terrifying power dropped off within seconds of Chelsie marching in, the invisible knives vanishing as Amelia grudgingly lifted her foot. “Would it kill you to knock?”

  Chelsie ignored her, marching right into the middle of the circle to help Frieda, who was looking like she might be sick. “What are you doing?”

  “There’s no need to yell,” Amelia grumbled, rubbing her red-rimmed eyes as she sat up. “And the same thing I’ve been doing for three days. I’m trying to break the green eyes.”

  “Well, stop it,” Chelsie snapped as she lifted Frieda to her feet. “F-clutch are not your guinea pigs.”

  “They are until the Council says otherwise,” Amelia reminded her. “You don’t give me orders, little sister.”

  “Big words from a dragon who doesn’t look like she’s breaking anything except herself,” Chelsie growled. “When was the last time you slept?”

  “I’ll sleep when I’m dead,” Amelia said with a shrug.

  “Which will be tomorrow at the rate you’re going,” Svena said, snatching the wine bottle away before Amelia could take another swig. “Do we need to have an intervention? I know you’re obsessed with beating me, but if you kill yourself over it, neither of us wins.”

  “You could always give me a hint,” she suggested sweetly.

  “You are impossible,” Svena said, tossing the half-empty wine bottle to Ian, who caught it easily. “I don’t know why I bother.”

  “Because I’m the best you’ll ever get, snow bat,” Amelia said, flopping back onto her couch with a grin. “Now, is someone going to tell me why there’s suddenly a party in my rooms, or do I have to—Hello.”

  She sat up again in a rush as she spotted Raven and the UN team standing in the doorway. “Well, well, look who flew in,” she said, reaching up to smooth her tangled black hair. “Long time no see, Raven.”

  “Same to you,” Raven said, fluttering off the general’s shoulder to land on the arm of Amelia’s couch. “I wish I could say you’re looking well, but even I’m not that good of a liar.” He looked her up and down. “What are you doing, Amelia?”

  “Moving up in life,” she said, reaching under the couch to pull out another bottle of wine. She bit the cork and the glass neck off the bottle with her teeth, spitting it out into the dark before turning to the UN team, who’d finally come inside. “Who are your pets?”

  “General Emily Jackson, United Nations,” Emily answered without missing a beat. “And this is Sir Myron Rollins, undersecretary of magic.”

  “Planeswalker,” Myron said, stepping forward eagerly. “It is an honor to finally—”

  “I’m sure it is,” Amelia said, taking a slug off her wine bottle. “But I’m not in the market for another mage right now, and you’re too old in any case. You, though.” She looked the general up and down. “You are interesting.” She looked back at Raven. “How’d you manage that piece of work?”

  Raven preened. “Didn’t you know I’m extraordinarily talented?”

  “Of course,” Amelia said, rolling her eyes as she turned back to the general. “When you get tired of him, come hit me up. I’m always looking for prime—Ow!”

  She grabbed her head as Raven fluttered away with several strands of her black hair in his beak. “Stop trying to poach my human,” he said, spitting them out.

  “Why should she?” Svena asked from the sidelines. “Isn’t human poaching how you two fools got together in the first place?”

  “She’s got you there,” Amelia said, laughing. “You were always snatching my humans, thieving bird. You had a bigger human collection than I did before the drought sent you to sleep.”

  “It was not a collection,” Raven said defensively. “It was a village, and I was experimenting to see—”

  “Enough,” General Jackson snapped, glaring at Raven. “We’re not here to discuss ancient history.”

  “She’s right,” Julius agreed, turning to his sister. “Algonquin has Marci. We need you to portal us inside Reclamation Land to get her back.”

  The smile fell off Amelia’s face. “Algonquin?” she muttered, looking worried for the first time. “That would explain why Marci’s been so upset these last couple hours.”

  Julius’s heart skipped a beat. “You can feel her?”

  “Not exactly,” she said. “I can’t tell you what she’s thinking or where she is, but it’s hard to miss when the vessel housing the other half of your soul is having an epically bad day. She’s not hurt, though,” she added quickly at Julius’s terrified look. “Just unhappy.”

  That went without saying. “Can you get us to her?”

  “About that,” Amelia said with a sigh. “I might be a little less than optimal at the moment, I’m afraid.”

  “I can see that,” he said. “But you told me before you could always make a portal.”

  “I could, when I had my magic. But your human’s been hitting the fire a lot harder than I anticipated, and I’m afraid I’m temporarily out of oomph.”

  “And whose fault is that?” Svena growled, folding her arms over her chest. “You did this to yourself, and now I know why. I know that girl is a potential Merlin, Amelia, which means I know what you’re after.”

  “I sincerely doubt that,” the Planeswalker said, taking a long drink off her bottle. “Why are you here, again?”

  “Because I have a sense of responsibility,” Svena snapped. “Unlike you, I’m not willing to leave something as powerful as a Merlin, potential or otherwise, in the hands of a violent spirit who wants to kill all of our kind!”

  “It’s not a question of willing,” Amelia said, exasperated. “I’m not saying I won’t make a portal, I’m saying I can’t. I want to save to Marci just as much as any of you do. Probably more since she’s carrying half my life right now. That makes this kind of a big deal for me, but I can’t force a portal if the magic’s not there.”

  “Then maybe you should have thought about that before wasting the power you did have on something as foolish as breaking your mother’s green eyes!” Svena snarled, smoke puffing out of her mouth.

  “How was I supposed to know this would happen?”
Amelia snarled back. “What do I look like, a seer?”

  Svena threw up her hands and turned away, marching across the dark cave to the far corner, the only part of the room that wasn’t covered in spellwork or empty bottles. When she was standing in the middle of the clear space, she threw down her hands, and a ring of frost appeared on the stone.

  “There,” she said, glaring at Julius. “Step in. I’ll take you to the DFZ myself.”

  Julius blinked in surprise. “You can do that?”

  “Of course,” Svena said haughtily. “Didn’t you see me do it with my sisters? I can go anywhere in the world. And since I don’t rip my way through the fabric of dimensions every time I want to go somewhere, my way is far less obnoxious. Algonquin won’t even feel it.”

  Julius couldn’t believe it. “Then why didn’t you offer this before?”

  “Because you’re not my clan and it’s not my problem,” Svena snapped.

  “And she’s not supposed to be casting while pregnant,” Ian growled. “Svena, Ysolde told you—”

  “I know what I can and can’t do!” Svena roared. “I am the White Witch, and your clan head! If I say it’s fine, it’s fine. Now are you getting in or not? Because I’m not doing this all day.”

  Julius jumped to obey, hurrying into the icy circle. Chelsie got there next, followed by Raven and the UN team.

  “Are you sure you can get us inside Reclamation Land?” Emily asked, giving the white dragon a skeptical look.

  “Of course I’m sure,” Svena spat. “I wouldn’t have offered if I couldn’t perform at least as well as Amelia the Drunk. And speaking of.” She turned to Julius. “You have to get that human back, before my oldest and best enemy dies from her own stupidity.”

  Julius nodded, finally understanding. Svena wasn’t doing this for the Merlin. She was trying to save Amelia, her best enemy, which was how old, prideful dragons said friend.

  “I’ll bring her back,” he promised, pulling out his phone to bring up Justin’s map. “Can you set us down here?”

  He pointed at a spot in the north on the tree line, just before the forest gave way to the open field. Since they had no idea where Marci was, he didn’t know if it was a good one, but at least the location would give them some cover while they planned their next move.