No Good Dragon Goes Unpunished (Heartstrikers Book 3)

by Rachel Aaron

  “Yuck,” she said, turning away from the pile of dragon corpses. “Some welcome to the land of the living. At least my voice is back, though.”

  I liked the other one, the Empty Wind said. It was nice having you in my head where you couldn’t leave.

  “You are the master of the sweet but creepy,” she said with a laugh. “But haven’t you learned by now that I’m not going—”

  “Marci!”

  The cry rang out like a shot across the field, and Marci’s head shot up. She had no idea how he was here, but she’d know that voice anywhere.

  “Julius?”

  ***

  Julius ran across the grass at top speed, leaving the others behind as he rushed toward the edge of the bloody pool in the middle of Algonquin’s field where Marci and the Empty Wind had just appeared out of nowhere. It had happened so suddenly, he hadn’t believed his eyes at first, but when he’d blinked and she hadn’t vanished, he’d just started running, desperate to get to her now, before anything else had the chance to happen.

  “Marci!” he yelled again, voice cracking as he grabbed her right off her feet and hugged her as hard as he could. He hugged her until he could feel her heart beating against his chest, as he wanted it to always. Hugged her until the proof that she was alive and safe was unmistakable even to his worst-case-scenario imagination. Hugged her until her arms went around his shoulders and her fists started beating on his back, her legs banging into his like she was trying to get his attention.

  “Julius,” she gasped. “Too tight!”

  “Sorry!” he said, loosening his grip at once. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, I was just so—”

  “It’s okay,” she said, wrapping her arms around him as she caught her breath. “I was worried about you, too.”

  Julius closed his eyes in happiness, burying his face in her hair as he breathed in deeply. He didn’t care that they were standing in the middle of Algonquin’s territory ankle deep in the bloody dregs of what was basically a dragon mass grave. He could have stayed there with Marci hugging and being hugged back forever. But just as he was getting used to the idea, Marci pulled away.

  “But how did you find me?” she asked, the smile falling off her face. “How did you even get here? And why are you with them?”

  Julius glanced over his shoulder to see Chelsie, Emily, and Raven standing behind them. Myron was only now catching up, but the others had clearly been watching for a while. For once, though, Julius didn’t care. His whole clan could have been staring at him, and he still wouldn’t have let Marci go.

  “We went to him, actually,” the general said. “We—”

  “You went to him?” Marci cried, her voice outraged. “After I specifically told you not to?”

  “You told them not to get me?” Julius asked. “Why?”

  “Because I knew you’d do this,” she said, waving her hands at the bloody field. “Charging into the heart of enemy territory. I was trying to keep you safe!”

  “What good is that if you’re not safe, too?” he cried, grabbing her shoulders. “I am never not going to help you, Marci. Never ever.”

  “And with all due respect, you don’t give us orders,” General Jackson added, lifting her chin defiantly. “Our mission is to protect you and your spirit, and since the Heartstrikers were in a more strategic position to do that than our own forces last night, we went to them.”

  Marci blew out an angry breath. “I suppose all’s well that ends well,” she muttered, looking back up at Julius, who had yet to let her go. “But you still haven’t told me how you got in here. Did Amelia make a door for you?”

  “Actually, Svena teleported us,” Julius said. “We asked Amelia, but she was too weak since she gave half her magic to you.”

  “Oh, snap!” Marci said, letting him go at last to press a frantic hand against her chest. “Amelia’s flame! I forgot all about it when I was in the land of the dead.”

  Julius went pale. “Land of the dead?”

  “Whew, we’re good,” she said, slumping in relief as she patted her chest above her heart. “Still burning strong. But I’d better head back to the mountain and get this back to her.”

  Going home sounded like a marvelous idea to Julius. He had no idea what she’d meant by “land of the dead,” but given the army of ghosts they’d followed to find her, he was okay with that. Unfortunately, the undersecretary of magic was not.

  “Is that where you’re going to leave it?” he growled, glaring at Marci with something uncomfortably close to hate. “You covered this place in ghosts! I got only a single glimpse at Reclamation Land when I came here as part of the UN treaty delegation twenty years ago, but even that was enough to see it was a wonder. A beautiful, untouched land of primordial spirits like nothing else on Earth, and you’ve turned it into this.” He waved his hand at the empty field dotted with upturned dirt. “What kind of spirit do you have?”

  Marci went rigid. Then, almost like she was putting on a mask, Julius saw her pull her professional face together and turn on the mage with a self-possessed look that would have done a dragon proud.

  “Don’t assume what you don’t understand,” she said haughtily, putting out her hand to the empty air beside her. Air that Julius realized wasn’t empty at all when Ghost appeared beside her, and not as a cat. He’d only seen the spirit like this once before, but Julius would never forget the terrifying, faceless soldier who’d defeated Vann Jeger, and that memory was enough to finally make him step aside as the Empty Wind moved in to stand beside his mage.

  “Sir Myron Rollins,” Marci said, turning to the terrifying spirit beside her. “This is the Empty Wind, spirit of the Forgotten Dead. He champions and protects those whom everyone else has forgotten, including the hundreds of thousands Algonquin killed when she flooded Detroit sixty years ago. Algonquin’s spirits can rebuild their land, but what they took from the people who lived here can never be repaid. Given how little Algonquin cares for human life, I’d think you would be on their side, not hers.”

  Sir Myron scowled when she finished, but General Jackson looked almost proud, her clenched fists shaking in a surprising show of emotion. “If that’s the truth,” she said, nodding respectfully to the ghostly soldier, “then I’m happy to have him on our side.”

  “Well, I’m not,” Myron snapped, drawing himself to his full height. “I don’t care if she’s the first Merlin or the last. A power that relies on the exploitation of human souls is not a weapon we need.”

  “It’s not exploitation!” Marci cried.

  “Myron!” Emily snapped at the same time, but the mage just gave her a savage look.

  “I’m done,” he said coldly. “You might be willing to do anything for a weapon, Emily, but I’m not.” He glanced at the Empty Wind again, and Julius caught the faint scent of human fear. “I know a monster when I see one, and that thing is a god of death. He’s an end, not a beginning. If that’s the spirit you want to make into a Merlin, then I wash my hands of this whole affair. I’d rather wait another sixty years than accept the devil we’ve got just because he’s here.”

  “Don’t be a fool,” the general growled, pointing at the pile of dragon corpses. “We don’t have another sixty years when Algonquin’s doing things like this. I don’t care if her spirit is one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, we need him now.”

  “Then take him,” Myron spat. “But good luck getting any progress without me. I’m the Master of Labyrinths, the only one in all of this who actually knows what he’s doing.” He looked down his nose at Marci the same way Bethesda used to look at Julius. Like she was dirt. “This one’s nothing but a dragon groupie who got lucky. She doesn’t even have her PhD.”

  Marci clenched her fists with a snarl. Julius was worried she was going to take a swing at the older mage when Chelsie stepped between them. “This is not the place to discuss this,” she growled, jerking her head at Algonquin’s lake. “I don’t know why she’s not here yet, but she’s coming, and if we don’
t want to end up like them”—she pointed at the dead dragons—“we need to go.”

  “Agreed,” Emily said, shooting Myron a final chilling look. “This isn’t over.”

  The look on the undersecretary’s face said otherwise, but he remained silent. When it was clear he wasn’t going to cause any more trouble for the time being, the general lifted her hand. “Move out.”

  “Where?” Marci asked, looking around at the empty field. “How were you guys planning to get back, anyway?”

  The blood drained from Julius’s face. He’d been so desperate just to get to Marci, he hadn’t actually thought past that. Thankfully, Chelsie had him covered.

  “I’ve got it,” she said, drawing her Fang. “Heartstriker Mountain always has dragons, which means I can get us back no problem, but I’ll have to make two trips.”

  Julius breathed a sigh of relief. That was right. Chelsie’s Fang could cut to any Heartstriker. Thank goodness someone was planning ahead. “Take Marci and the undersecretary first, then,” he said quickly. “I’ll stay here so you can cut back to me, and then the general, Raven, and I will—”

  A wave of magic crashed down on top of them.

  The shock knocked everyone but Emily and Raven to the ground. Chelsie was back on her feet almost before she hit the grass. Julius was only a hair slower, but when he reached down to help Marci back to her feet, she didn’t take his hand. She just lay there on her back, staring up at the sky like she was watching the ax fall at her own execution. When Julius looked up to see why, though, all he found was black. He almost thought something was wrong with his eyes before he finally understood what he was looking at.

  The Leviathan was looming directly above them.

  Before this moment, Julius had only seen Algonquin’s monster on television. But the little measurements they always put up on the screen couldn’t accurately convey just how big it was when you were standing below it. In the back of his mind, the one remaining rational sliver of Julius’s brain knew that Dragon Sees the Beginning must have technically been bigger, but he’d also looked like a dragon. Even as a magical construct, he’d been familiar. Understandable. But Julius couldn’t make heads or tails of the thing towering over him now.

  Even the way it moved made no sense. There was absolutely no way something that big could move that quietly, or that fast. And yet it did, floating over the destroyed, bloody field like a black cloud. Its huge tentacles stretched out at the same time, ringing them before Julius realized what was happening. He was still staring at the slick, undulating surface of the Leviathan’s multiple appendages when lake-smelling water began to pour down the Leviathan’s eyeless front, becoming a woman as it hit the ground. An extremely angry-looking woman whose sopping-wet face flickered wildly between all of theirs as she rose to her feet.

  That was a very stupid thing to do.

  Julius swore under his breath. The thing in front of him looked nothing like the Algonquin he’d seen on television, but there was no mistaking that terrifying, watery voice. Honestly, the only surprise left now was what had taken her so long. But while Algonquin was clearly here to kill them all, her eyes were locked on Marci and her spirit with a special kind of hate.

  “Do you know how much damage you just caused?” she said out loud, the words rocks in a stream, sending huge ripples through her human image. “The work you undid?”

  “Of course,” Marci said, glaring right back. “Why do you think we did it?”

  Julius cringed. That was not the sort of thing you said to a furious spirit with godlike powers. But before he could think of something to defuse the situation, assuming it could be defused, Chelsie appeared at his side.

  “On three,” she whispered in a voice only dragons could hear. “You grab Marci, I’ll grab you.”

  He bit his lip. “What about the UN team?”

  Her silence was answer enough, and Julius winced. “We can’t just leave them.”

  “Sure we can,” Chelsie said. “They have diplomatic immunity for this kind of thing.”

  Algonquin didn’t look like she was in a mood to honor the niceties of international politics, but given how fast things had gone south, Julius was starting to think it was time to take what they could get. He nodded to Chelsie and was starting to reach for Marci’s hand when Myron suddenly broke the silence.

  “What work did she undo?”

  The Lady of the Lakes turned to him, her rippling face finally solidifying into a reflection of Myron. “You are the Master of Labyrinths. We met once, years ago.”

  “We did,” Myron said, taking a big step away from Marci. “And I am not with her.” Everyone shot him a deadly look, which Myron pointedly ignored, nodding instead to the pool at Algonquin’s feet. “I can feel incredible magic coming from this. You’re making something extraordinary here. What is it?”

  “My Mortal Spirit,” she said sadly, reaching down to trail her fingers through the bloody water. “Or what’s left of it after Marci Novalli let her rabid cat turn savage.”

  Julius heard General Jackson’s breathing speed up. “You have a Mortal Spirit?” she said, stepping forward. “Another one?”

  “Had,” Algonquin corrected, glaring at Marci. “And will have again. We always rise again, but this delay is most inconvenient.” Her face shifted again, becoming a watery mockery of Marci’s. “Why did you do it? Were you that determined to be the first?”

  “Actually, I didn’t set out to break your Mortal Spirit,” Marci said. “I was just trying to break out of your cage. Now that it’s over, though, I’m glad we did it. The more I learn about Mortal Spirits, the more I understand that they are us. They belong to humans—our magic to use for our common good—not yours.”

  “My good is your good, fool,” Algonquin hissed, shooting to her feet. “Did you not listen to a word I told you? I’m not a dragon, investing decades of time and magic into something purely for my own power or vanity. What I’m doing here is vitally important for all of us. If I don’t get control of a Mortal Spirit soon, the others will start rising, and then it will be too late. You think your god of death is a monster? You don’t even know what that word means.”

  “I’m pretty sure I’m looking at it,” Marci said, glaring straight at the Lady of the Lakes. “But I told you already, Algonquin. You’re not the only one on this planet who gets a say in its future. I don’t doubt you know a lot more than we do about magic, but that doesn’t mean you get to make our decisions for us. Whatever is coming, if you need help to face it, then you’ll have to come to us as equals.”

  “You are not my equal,” Algonquin hissed, shaking with so much rage, she couldn’t even hold a face. “You will eat those words, mortal.”

  “Not before you eat the dirt,” Marci replied defiantly. “Face it, lake water, you need us. I think Ghost and I have just proven we can’t be forced, so the ball’s back in your court. Either you come up with a fair deal this time, or we walk for good.”

  By the time she finished, Algonquin looked less like water imitating a person and more like a boiling cauldron of pure rage. Just being in the same zip code as that was enough to make Julius sweat, and he leaned in to whisper in Marci’s ear. “Are you sure about this?”

  “Positive,” she whispered back, never taking her eyes off Algonquin. “I wasn’t lying when I said I didn’t plan for this to happen, but it’s working out great. Algonquin desperately needs a Mortal Spirit, and now that Ghost’s ruined hers, we’re all she’s got left. She can’t kill us, not if she wants to stay on schedule.” Her face split into a grin. “I think I just found our ticket out of—”

  Julius never got to hear the rest. In that moment, something wet and impossibly heavy slapped him across the back. He went down like a shot, slamming into the muddy grass so hard, it knocked the breath out of his body. He was scrambling back to his feet on instinct alone when the thing that had knocked him down—a huge, black coil his stumbling brain belatedly recognized as one of the Leviathan’s tentacles—wrapped arou
nd his midsection and lifted him into the air, throwing him straight at Algonquin before Marci could even scream.

  ***

  No! she thought frantically. No, no, no, no!

  This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. She was supposed to be forcing Algonquin into a compromise, just as Julius always did. The Lady of the Lakes didn’t care about the others, which meant no one else was supposed to get hurt. And when the spirit did try something—because of course she should—the Empty Wind was poised to snatch Marci back into the other world. It should have been an airtight plan, but all of it went out the window when the Leviathan’s tentacles came down like a divine hand and snatched Julius away, jerking him into the sky like a rag doll before tossing him in the shallow, bloody water at Algonquin’s feet.

  “Oh dear,” Algonquin said, putting her dripping foot on Julius’s chest. “Look what I found.”

  Chelsie pulled her Fang in response, but Algonquin just flicked her hand, and a wave shot out, washing the Heartstriker’s enforcer off her feet in a cascade of dark, icy lake water. Unlike an actual wave, though, this one didn’t crash. It just circled and stayed, locking Chelsie inside a bubble of cloudy, fishy-smelling water she seemed unable to escape from.

  “None of that,” the Lady of the Lakes said, smiling coldly as Chelsie slashed ineffectively at the water’s walls. “You’re in my world now, snakes. I am in control here.” Her face flickered back to Marci’s reflection as she turned back to her prey. “You want a fairer deal than serve me or die? Fine.” She waved her hand a second time, and again, water followed, sweeping over Julius from head to toe, surrounding him in a cocoon of dark water so fast, he didn’t even have a chance to close his mouth before the water poured in. “Serve or he dies. How’s that for a better offer?”