Wolf Boss

by Candace Ayers

  “You’ll feel tired and achy. It’s to be expected,” a man murmured. “We’ve been traveling a while, but the Between creates a sort of twilight sleep. It’s hard to guess how long you’re in there.”

  “Huh?” Daya grunted in a daze.

  She felt like she had been roofied. A panicked look down revealed someone had dressed her in a loose, gauzy dress that draped her svelte figure. She sighed in relief. She wasn’t in one of those ‘naked in public’ dreams but, then again, she wasn’t dreaming, was she?

  Daya’s eyebrows hooked in a frown as she gingerly touched her head for injuries. No damage, there. Her hair was piled in a messy bun, and her feet were in sandals that felt made for her, just like the dress. It was wrong on so many levels. She gasped and patted herself for her cellphone. It was missing, naturally.

  “What in the entire fuck?” she blurted out.

  The bald man who had rescued her looked like a priest. She apologized for cussing, and he flashed a wry grin. “It’s quite alright,” he chuckled. “What passes for swears in your realm—how do you say— doesn’t have ‘shit’ on the colorful expletives here.”

  Daya was vividly aware she wasn’t in Kansas anymore. “And, where the bloody hell is here, exactly?” she asked.

  “Bloody hell? Creative. For an American. No, you’re not only not in Kansas, you’re not exactly on your version of Earth anymore. I’m Neigen, by the way.”

  “Oh, thanks for the tour update, Neigen,” she said with sarcasm. “Nice to…Wait. Did you just read my mind?”

  “My apologies. It’s a holdover from my job, you see. I’ve read minds for the high priestess for centuries. It has its perks. Unfortunately, it also has its limitations. I can’t read hers.” A troubled look flitted across his face.

  “Uh-huh.” Daya quirked her lips to the side and tried to figure out what was going on. She was too self-aware to be in a dream. This felt like a movie. Only, in movies, the extras didn’t gawk. She hugged herself as passers-by shot wary glances her way. Also, her supporting character was either bonkers or the best method actor ever.

  He clutched her elbow and steered her from the flow of foot-traffic down a quiet alley shaded by sandstone buildings. Another bout of panic flared as she stumbled along the empty path. The sun was filtered by crimson banners that flapped overhead. Isolated, dark place? Rape or murder could be imminent. She had a height advantage over her rather ancient captor, but one couldn’t be too careful.

  Daya threw up her hands defensively. “Where are you taking me? If you try anything crazy, I will scream like nobody’s business. I have the lungs of a harpy. They’ll hear me way in the parking lot of this…Renaissance festival.” Maybe. Yeah. Had to be.

  “Really, Daya? I did a favor for you.” Neigen consulted a gold timepiece. “Walk faster. I saved your life, and now I need you to save mine.”

  “Like how?” She dug in her heels.

  “I’m not sure,” he flashed a grandfatherly smile. “But, if I don’t get you to the Temple of the Fire, I’m done for. Now, come along. It’s just up ahead. Once there, I’ll explain what I can. Oh, but, I suppose I should warn you first. In their natural form, the dragon eaters are fearsome to look at. Ghastly creatures. However, the Mistress won’t hurt you. Yet. Hopefully.”

  “Yet? Hopefully?” Daya pivoted away with a hysterical laugh. “Dragon eaters. Right. I fell. I’m dead! I’m dead, and this is my fucked-up version of the afterlife.”

  Neigen heaved a flustered sigh and tugged her in step again. “We simply don’t have time for any breakdowns. Ordinarily, I’d introduce a person to the concept of Realm Travel in increments. An orientation, if you will. It’s just—You don’t want to keep Feis waiting.”

  Daya shrieked in surprise when he shoved her through a door she hadn’t seen until the last minute. The dimly lit alley was at once replaced by smoke-laden darkness. Coughing from the incense, she tripped over the folds of her dress and almost fell, but Neigen steadied her.

  “Watch your step. She wants you intact,” he hissed.

  “What is this place?”

  “Really, no time to explain.”

  As she hurried after the anxious priest, her eyes adjusted, and she surveyed her surroundings. In recessed alcoves lining the darkened walls, she saw gold relics that reflected faint candlelight. Hundreds of candles worked to abate the shadows, but the place was cavernous. Archways reached cathedral ceilings. Neat rows of pews and a lengthy aisle led to a raised dais. Definitely a church.

  A Gothic monstrosity of a dragon statue snaked around a slender white crystal that rose above an altar, and kneeling before the gleaming beast was a woman. She was in the same flowy, gauzy dress as others Daya had seen in this place. But, this woman had a towering gold crown shaped like dancing flames, advertising her station. She was a Ruler.

  “You’re behind schedule.” Her voice was liquid fire—a hushed crackle—as she gracefully stood.

  At the sound of it, Daya flinched and almost stopped following Neigen to the altar. The high priestess was half her height and twice as intimidating. Daya wanted to bolt, but Neigen bowed low to the floor at the woman’s feet.

  “I am sorry, Mistress. It couldn’t be helped. The human was indisposed when I arrived in her realm.”

  “That’s an understatement,” Daya mumbled, but her irreverent snort became a strangled whimper when the “Mistress” turned her way. “Jesus H. Christ.”

  “No, Feis of the Fire.” The woman smiled.

  She had skin the same burnished gold as her headdress, and it sure as hell didn’t look like paint. Her eyes were like flames. Hair the color of orange-red embers fell to her waist, framing truly lovely facial features. But, her teeth…Her teeth were jagged ivory spires, and her shapely mouth barely concealed them. This was a dragon eater?

  Retreating a step, Daya glanced at Neigen, but he was still kissing the temple floor. No help at all. If she was dreaming, she was ready to wake up now. None of this could be real.

  “And, you are Oedaya of the Blue Sky Realm,” Feis whispered.

  “Just Daya Krane, thank you. N-no one calls me Oedaya but my grandfather,” she stammered. “I’m-I’m sorry, how do you know me?”

  “Oh, don’t be frightened. You’ll have to excuse my appearance. I haven’t eaten,” the woman said casually, waving in the general direction of her face and...teeth.

  Daya gulped. “Yeah, being hangry does that to me, too.”

  “You’re not what I expected, but what a pleasure,” Feis purred. “I’ve searched the four realms for someone with your unique capabilities. A woman, born with the Moon trine Neptune, with a predilection for taking things that do not belong to her.”

  “Excuse me?” Daya tremulously straightened her shoulders. “I mean, with all due respect, I think you have the wrong girl. Moon trying Neptune doesn’t sound anything like me. I guess, you know, for this place, it’s a common mistake. You can just, uh, let me go home now. No harm, no foul.”

  Feis closed the distance between them, and Daya’s nose twitched. The woman exuded a musky aroma. Like the dregs of rose water scorching in a kettle. She coiled a lock of Daya’s hair around her forefinger. “I never make mistakes, Oedaya.” She tugged until it hurt. Badly. Then, she let the dark curl go and patted Daya’s shoulder. “I know you’re a thief and that no one matches your ability to procure things.”

  “Maybe in the past, but, um, I’m reformed. Born again. Baptized in holy water.” Daya released a nervous, high-pitched giggle. She clapped a hand over her mouth as Feis smirked and moved away. “I’m sorry. I get goofy when I’m scared.”

  “What you people do with religion is sinful. But, you know—holy water—that can be arranged.” She snapped her fingers, and a book materialized in the air. “I brought you here to retrieve something for me, and you can’t leave until I have it in my hands.”

  Neigen gasped when the book flipped open. “The Heart of the Dragon Lord.”

  “A red diamond!” Daya exclaimed at the sam
e time. “That’s one of the rarest gems on the planet! I’ve never even seen one in person.” The thief in her tingled with anticipation, drawing her to the illustration with wanton greed. She thought of every jewel she had ever stolen. This was her unicorn.

  Feis tilted her head. “It’s nearby. In a mountainous keep none from my realm can enter.”

  “That sounds pretty sketchy,” Daya admitted.

  Neigen laboriously straightened his posture and fixed Daya with a stare that reminded her of the stern nuns from her Catholic school days. “It is sketchy. You live in a world where magic is an illusion,” he said solemnly. “This is not that world.”

  “Oh, don’t chaperone her, Neigen. She’s an adult.” Feis circled her, but Daya couldn’t take her eyes off the scarlet diamond. She mentally calculated how much the jewel would be worth to the obviously rich and powerful high priestess—assuming she believed this whole other realm business. Enough to retire?

  “A powerful spell prevents me from doing this for myself,” the woman continued, “but I can tell you how to get in and, most importantly, out with the Heart of the Dragon. No police. No cameras. No silly catsuits.”

  Daya’s gaze narrowed shrewdly. “I like a challenge, but I’ll need more than my walking papers when this is done. I want hazard pay. You know, the kind of money that’ll keep me set for life.”

  “You can’t be so naïve. Oedaya, she’s trying to—Ack!” Neigen choked. Feis spread her fingers, and the priest doubled over in pain. His anguished outcry pierced the pious silence. Daya instinctively threw her body in front of him. She didn’t bother questioning reality.

  “Don’t hurt him!” she yelled.

  Feis dropped her hand and said sweetly, “You needlessly torment her, Neigen. She doesn’t want to see you like this.”

  Daya glanced over her shoulder. He was clutching his chest, recovering. Tendrils of steam wafted from his clothes. An incendiary odor filled the temple. She hated to think what it signified. His skin was a bright pink and glistened with sweat.

  She shook her head in horror when she looked back at the high priestess. What in the world was going on? This was a place where power meant actual power. She felt it crackling in the air around her. Feis weakly slumped against the altar. Whatever foul magic she had used had drained her, but Daya still backed away from her.

  “Be careful,” Neigen panted.

  “Yes, be careful, Oedaya. I give you options, but choose wisely. Behind door number one, you get me the jewel, and I give you what you want. Not just wealth, but unending wealth. I can make your life so much easier,” Feis seductively promised. The words wrapped around Daya enticingly, but she couldn’t get the thought of Neigen’s torture out of her head.

  Feis seemed to realize it. She hardened her voice: “Door number two, you don’t get the jewel, and you die a swift death. What about door number three? You die slow,” she said apathetically.

  “I told you I’d get it for you!”

  “Of course, you have to get past what guards it.”

  “Fantastic.” Given what Daya had seen thus far, she guessed whatever guarded the treasure would likely be better equipped to hurt her than she would ever be to hurt it. But, there was no backing out now. “I need time to devise a plan,” she hedged.

  “I’ll give you one night, and you’ll have the book for reference. Take her to her chamber.”

  “But, that’s not enough time!”

  “She’s being generous,” Neigen advised.

  He staggered from the room of worship with bony fingers clamped around Daya’s elbow. Her heart thundered in her chest as they raced a flight of stairs that wound through the sprawling temple, past dark rooms and quiet rustling. The movie had turned from fantasy to sinister. Only, this wasn’t a movie or a dream.

  “There’s no way I can plan a heist in one night. Is she crazy?”

  “Perhaps you should’ve asked that question before you promised to get her a stone that will give her all-power,” her guide sputtered.

  Daya inhaled sharply and halted in her tracks. “Well, gee, Neigen! You could’ve told me I was signing up to play fetch for a mad sorceress. I would’ve taken my chances surviving Marco’s courtyard,” she snapped.

  He glared at her as he flung open the door to an oversized bedchamber. Her jaw dropped at the sight of a massive bed and deep-basined tub, a warm fire crackling in the hearth, and food on a table. She breathed in the heavenly smell of candied fruit and roasted meat and forgot why they were arguing.

  Daya ran to the cloche-covered dinner tray. “OMG, is this real?” she gushed. Stuffing sugar-glazed pear slices into her mouth with greedy relish, she extended a plate to Neigen, but he shook his head.

  “I was ordered to bring you here, and so I have,” he said stiffly, peering over his shoulder.

  “Fine, then. More for me.”

  He smirked and slipped into the room, shutting the door. “I had to make sure we weren’t followed,” he hissed. “Listen, there were things I didn’t know that I didn’t know, but we haven’t time for regrets. She’s sending you on a suicide mission! I can’t let you go without a fighting chance. After all, you bravely put yourself between me and certain death back there.”

  The pear lodged in her throat uncomfortably. “What’s guarding the diamond, Neigen?”

  “That’s the least of your worries now that you’ve agreed to retrieve it. This world—It will change one, and not always for the best. So, you must stay focused and work swiftly. Bear in mind, for every day you’re here, months are passing in your time. The realms aren’t entirely in sync.”

  “Wait, what?!”

  “Yes, and knowing Feis, you’re not the only one. You’re racing not only against the clock but against whoever else she sends as a backup plan. I’m sure you realize there’s no second place in this game.” He backed toward the door. “I will try to lend assistance however I can. But, once you get to the keep, you’re on your own. You should look out for anyone who seems out of the norm.”

  “For me, that’s everyone here!” she wailed, pacing away. “Do you know when she’s sending in the competition? Where the diamond might be? I mean, a ‘keep’ is a very nonspecific noun. And, what’s guarding the thing?” Daya turned to an empty room.

  The tall double doors whispered shut, and she groaned helplessly. Then, the floating book from the temple materialized. With a surprised yelp, Daya rushed to grab it. She flipped open the cover, and the pages turned on their own. Squiggly runes shifted and changed shape, transforming before her very eyes into an alphabet she understood. She deciphered the first line above the illustration of the red diamond.

  “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.” Daya slapped the book shut.

  The first line read, “There be dragons.”

  2

  The dragon slept. Beneath his black scales, a bed of gold shifted to cradle his massive weight. He half-heard the tinkle of doubloons cascading down hills of treasure, but he dreamed of flying, and the phantom wind howled.

  Clouds blanketed him with cool wetness. He flew higher and left the wispy fluffs of white. His wings spanned a staggering width that blotted out the sun. From the tip of his nose to the spiked end of his tail, he was raw power. His thick neck glowed with flames he ached to unleash, but he squelched the impulse. He imagined people gazing up with awestruck respect from far below. He missed that.

  Soon, he told himself. The line of Imyr would rule the skies again, and the Fire Realm would return to its former glory, as things had been when hundreds of dragons had coexisted with their mortal counterparts in peace.

  His hulking shadow swept the lush green landscape of King’s Isle. Rolling hills spread out from the craggy mountain ridge that crowned the volcanic island. It was in these mountains his keep was carved into impervious stone, hidden from the curious traveler on the ground. An architectural masterpiece, but his own private hell.

  In the dream realm, Arken Imyr could fly away from its many-splendored chambers and explore the
world.

  In reality, however, he hibernated in a twilight sleep somewhere deep within his fortress. He could never leave. His sleeping form lifted its tail and lazily swished it before tucking it closer to his legs. A jewel-encrusted goblet clanked to the loot-strewn floor with a thump. He snorted. A rivulet of smoke floated out the crater overhead.

  He vaguely realized the heaviness of his limbs (in dream flight) was evidence he had been grounded too long. Centuries. But, the exact duration of enslavement required harder math than he wanted to attempt.

  He wanted to dream of life as it had been before he became the last dragon king. Eons ago, he hadn’t even been in the running for the throne. With three elder brothers, Arken had roamed free, traveling the many islands of the Fire Realm, amassing treasure and bedding lusty wenches—dragon and mortal alike. The allure of bounty had always been a heady drug, but—damn it all—he missed the sensual feel of a woman’s touch. That, too, would have to wait.

  For now, he had one duty: Keeping the Heart of the Dragon safe. His obsidian talons clutched the scarlet diamond to his chest even in sleep. The cold, hard feel of it reminded him he hadn’t visited the Realm of Dreams for a joy-fly. He was there to meet someone.

  Arken flexed his shoulders, and perfectly engineered wings created an updraft that took him higher and faster. Off to the northeast, the glistening blue ocean rippled like a sheet of glass. Beyond that was the Isle of Warriors. The Fire Realm was, in fact, mostly oceans, but where the lush green landmasses rose from the waves, it was paradise.

  He coasted closer to his own shores, wondering how things had changed since he had done this in real life. He knew the number of dragons worldwide had dwindled. News still reached him, albeit seldom and often inaccurate. It was no longer safe for his kind to travel. Mating was nearly obsolete. If the occupation by the dragon eaters didn’t end soon, his race would go extinct, and he didn’t know how to save them.