Black City Dragon

by Richard A. Knaak

  Taking a deep breath, I grabbed the hilt.

  The bomb exploded before I could even manage a step. I’d already braced for the worst . . . and then the sword flared so bright I was half-blinded for a moment.

  What little I could see astonished me, no small trick. For just an instant, the table and everything above and below it became engulfed in an inferno. I’d guessed wrong about the intensity of the blast. Gale-rius had intended to take out the entire building just in case I caught on. The blast would’ve sent piles of debris down on the street.

  But what neither he nor I had counted on was the sword. The flaring light met the explosion just a couple of feet away from me. Both froze for a second . . . and then the full force of the blast vanished into the blade.

  The entire sword turned a fiery crimson. The hilt grew so hot I nearly let go.

  The crimson faded, Her Lady’s gift becoming charcoal gray. Suddenly, the weapon felt as if it weighed ten times as much.

  I gripped it tighter. Returning it to its hiding place proved a lot more difficult. It was almost as if only a fraction of its power remained.

  Once the sword had been dealt with, I hurried—staggered, actually—out of the building and to the others.

  Claryce jumped out of the Packard and helped me the last few steps. As I climbed in, I saw that Louise Crying Wolf had Fetch’s head in her lap and was muttering rhythmically.

  “Something she recalled from her grandmother,” Claryce explained. “It seems to be keeping him stable . . . I don’t know . . . maybe I just hope it is.”

  “Anything’s welcome at this point.” I started up the Packard. “I need to find a phone.”

  “There was a drugstore about a mile back.”

  “That’ll do.”

  I broke speed limits as best I could until we got to the drugstore. As I struggled my way out of the car, Claryce came around to assist. I didn’t argue. Everything we’d been through had weakened the dragon, too. I also didn’t trust seeking too much of his help when I was like this. At these times, there was always the chance he’d try to usurp control. He’d done it before.

  There were narrow phone booths at the rear of the store. With an apologetic look to Claryce, I slipped into one.

  Giving the operator the number and the right coins, I waited while the phone rang. The moment I heard the click indicating someone had picked up, I spoke. “Fetch is bad off. I need your skills. No argument. You know where the safe house is. Go there immediately.”

  There was a pause . . . and then a single word.

  “Yes.”

  I hung up. As I stepped out of the phone booth, I nearly lost my balance. Claryce grabbed me and slung by arm around her shoulder. We both ignored the cashier’s look as we headed toward the car.

  “Who’d you call?”

  “The only one I know who could help Fetch at this point.”

  “Doctor Fremd?”

  I shook my head. “No. For something more human, I’d go to her just like I did for Barnaby when he got injured. No, not with Fetch. He can’t pass for human, and it’d look suspicious for her to be treating an animal. This requires someone with ties to Feirie. Someone who’s had the gift and that we can trust.”

  Claryce frowned. “Oh, Nick! Not—”

  “Yeah. I called Kravayik.”

  CHAPTER 16

  I left Claryce and Louise Crying Wolf down in the former millinery while I carried Fetch up to the safe house. Whatever our new companion had been chanting had indeed kept Fetch from worsening, but I wasn’t going to relax at all until Kravayik arrived.

  Returning to the shop, I pointed at Louise Crying Wolf. “You are to remain quiet once Kravayik gets here. I appreciate all you’ve done, but your part in this ends once you leave here.”

  “Nick!”

  “She needs to really understand. It’s bad enough you have to be part of this. You were given no choice.” To Louise Crying Wolf, I added, “Forget Feirie . . . and if you can’t, demand Laertes tell you all about Oberon and his queen. Clearly he hasn’t, otherwise you’d never have mixed Feirie with the realms of your people—”

  I stopped, not because of the defiant expression on her face but because we had a visitor.

  “I came as quickly as I could,” Kravayik quietly remarked.

  Louise Crying Wolf gaped. Sure, she’d been hanging around Laertes, but the differences between Laertes and Kravayik were many. Most were subtle, but put all together they made Kravayik stand out even among his kind.

  He was tall and extremely lanky. Handsome like all male elves, but with a darkness to his cast that made him more foreboding. His eyes were a little too large and his nose a little too small, but somehow it worked perfectly. Kravayik had a narrow face and an intense gaze few could match.

  With his slim, tapering hands, he removed the simple brown overcoat he wore. I’d expected Kravayik to come dressed something like a monk, as that wasn’t an uncommon look for him when acting as a caretaker at Holy Name. Instead, he wore a simple, serviceable brown suit that still made him look far more dapper than me.

  “Can you help him?” asked Claryce, her mind on the most important of things.

  “I do not know.” Kravayik gave us both an apologetic look. “Master Nicholas, it has been so very long since I made such use of my powers. In fact I worry about even trying. It may be a mortal sin—”

  “First, you’re not mortal. Second, are you going to take the chance of Fetch dying? What does your faith say about that?”

  “It is your faith as well.”

  “Maybe, but at this point, you probably have a more direct line to him. At, least, he’s more likely to answer.”

  Louise Crying Wolf continued to stare at Kravayik. He finally acknowledged her with a slight nod. “Forgive me. I am Kravayik. I did not catch your name, but I perceive you are one of the indigenous people. Have you been baptized?”

  “Don’t get started on that,” I warned him. “Yeah, she’s been baptized. She’s also gone through a lot of rough patches in life without you acting like a missionary.”

  “But of course she has. I am remiss. The schools, the forced relocations, the eradication of her heritage. That was not the way of the Lord. I hope you understand that, child. Those were tragedies caused by mistaken beliefs. I can appreciate that, my own past being one filled with mistaken beliefs for which I still attempt to atone.”

  It’d been years since Kravayik had converted and, while I could appreciate his commitment to his beliefs, there were times when he made me feel like one guilty saint. Atoning was something I’d never been too good at.

  Louise Crying Wolf showed him her medallion. “I don’t condemn my faith, Father, but neither do I condemn my heritage.”

  Kravayik looked aghast. “‘Father’? You honor me, but I am simply Kravayik the sinner.”

  She was about to reply, but I cut in. “Kravayik. I know you’re stalling. We need your powers for Fetch. Are you going to help or not?”

  He spread his hands. “I do not wish to summon those ungodly forces, and yet how could I deny helping another? Let me see.”

  Moving over to Fetch, Kravayik studied the injuries. He ran his hands just a couple of inches above the body, pausing here and there.

  “Well?” I finally asked, getting a little impatient.

  “The wounds are deep on more than one level,” he replied.

  I fought back my frustration. “Can you help him?”

  Kravayik slowly nodded. “Yes.”

  “Then get on with it.”

  He’d once been the most feared of Her Lady’s servants. I had no doubt that he still retained most of the skills that’d made him so. Still, all he did now was give me an apologetic look, then shift his hands to a spot where I assumed Fetch’s heart was approximately located.

  His fingertips glowed faintly. Kravayik started to shut his eyes, then opened them wider instead. “I would prefer to do this unseen. Please.”

  I looked at Claryce. She nodded and silentl
y led Louise Crying Wolf out of the apartment.

  Kravayik looked at me.

  “You’re lucky Claryce didn’t stay, too. Get going.”

  Kravayik focused again. I watched as his fingertips got even brighter.

  Then, a change came over his appearance, one that made even me flinch. Those inhuman looks got a lot more inhuman, to the point where I moved my hand near where I stored Her Lady’s gift. Kra-vayik’s features took on a monstrous cast, becoming akin to a skull over which some psychotic had stretched a mask of dried, gray skin. His eyes filled with blood, and his hands twisted until they almost reminded me of the dragon’s paws.

  He started muttering in another tongue. Not the Latin for which he’d found a fascination, but the ancient language of Feirie. It had some sounds similar to Latin, maybe due to ancient mixing of the two.

  I’d understood from the beginning why he’d been hesitant. His absolute rejection of all things Feirie, including his innate powers, had been the most likely reason he’d been able to do the impossible and not only step safely onto hallowed ground, but reside on it.

  The glow from his fingertips spread to Fetch’s body, then quickly covered Fetch from head to toe. Kravayik continued to mutter.

  I felt a heat in my chest. It took me a moment to realize that the sword was stirring because of Kravayik. I took a couple steps back and the heat faded.

  Fetch shook violently. At the same time, Kravayik moaned. I couldn’t do anything, which frustrated me. As I watched, Fetch writhed around on the couch as if trying to escape his very flesh. He whined and nearly scratched Kravayik in the face. The elf just barely evaded the paw, not for one second losing control of his spell.

  Raising his voice, Kravayik planted his fingers on Fetch. Sparks actually flew where he touched.

  Fetch yelped . . . then stopped moving.

  “Do not intercede!” Kravayik shouted.

  I didn’t realize I was moving until then. The heat in my chest rose again, verifying Kravayik’s demand. I forced myself back. Fetch shivered once.

  A black mist shot from his body into Kravayik’s fingers. He gasped as the mist seeped into him. Now the elf shivered. Kravayik started to slump forward, but forced himself straight again.

  The last of the mist faded into Kravayik. With a final shudder, he fell back. His face and form returned to normal, although he did have a haggard expression.

  “I could use . . . use some coffee. If that is all right.”

  “Yeah. Sure.” I went over to the American Metal Ware electric percolator Claryce and I’d recently installed in the kitchen and poured a cup.

  Kravayik gratefully took the coffee. He took a sip, then made a face. “This is coffee?”

  “Yeah, it’s coffee. Drink.”

  Kravayik took another sip, then set the cup down. And far away. “He will recover fully within the hour.”

  “Thanks. I mean that. Do you want to lie down or something? You look all out.”

  Before he could answer, Fetch let out a growl and picked up his head. Blinking, he looked up and saw the elf.

  “They’re safe . . . Kravayik . . . snug as bugs in a—”

  Kravayik flinched at the mention of his name. Fetch struggled to finish, but then his eyes lost focus. He whined and fell unconscious again.

  I leaned over Fetch. A slight moan escaped him, then silence.

  “Don’t skip out,” I warned Kravayik without looking back. I peered over my shoulder and saw I’d been correct. Kravayik stood near the door, his overcoat already on. Yeah, he hadn’t lost any edge since his days serving Her Lady.

  “My apologies. I believed my services here at an end. I must get back. It will be difficult to get a taxi from here.”

  “Don’t play games,” I returned. “I expect better from you, Kra-vayik. I thought you left all that behind when you saw the light . . . or are you having second thoughts?”

  His expression hardened. I’d hit him in the most sensitive spot. “Never!” Then, looking abashed, Kravayik added, “Forgive the outburst. I am ashamed.”

  “Just tell me this. What was Fetch referring to? And come to think of it, is it why you were so damned reluctant to come here in the first place? The card’s safe, right? I wouldn’t have called you if I didn’t think it was.”

  He drifted back into the apartment. Yes, “drifted.” I swear I didn’t see his legs move. Maybe he’d found the light years ago, but there were elements of Feirie that would always be a part of him, no matter how much he embraced his faith.

  “First, yes, the card is secure. It is not what you might think. You know very well what is taking place in Feirie. She has begun the purge she always intended but feared to put into place until she could be absolutely certain Oberon was dead. You thought he perished during the Night the Dragon Breathed, but there was no absolute evidence.”

  “There was pretty damn good evidence.”

  “Which proved to be inaccurate, as we recently discovered. We born of Feirie are a devious people—although humans can certainly impress us with their own depths—and Oberon was the master.”

  There was no denying that. Even while he had everything else in play, he’d worked for several human generations molding the Delke business dynasty. I still wasn’t sure if there’d even been any Delkes. At the very least, Oberon had, with the aid of his elven and human services, created a formidable base of power in the mortal plane.

  “He even knew the Gate would eventually reach Chicago, did you know that, Master Nicholas? He had calculated its eventual course even before it touched the New World.”

  “Yeah. I figured that out.” It’d been long after the fact, but I’d finally deduced it. “We’re wandering far afield, though. What about Fetch? Remember him?”

  Kravayik bent and retrieved his cup. This time, he took a longer sip. Putting the cup down again, he muttered, “It must have to grow on you.” To me, the elf finally said, “The chaos is magnifying. She will accept nothing less than absolute control. The slightest infraction is seen as betrayal . . . and you know how she feels about betrayal.”

  “Yeah.” I was also beginning to see where this was going . . . and I didn’t like it. “This is about the Wyld. The ones he’s been helping. The ones he shouldn’t be helping! Damn it, Kravayik! You’re helping him! I knew this had to be more than just him!”

  For sixteen hundred years, I’d been tasked with keeping passage through the Gate at a minimum. I’d also been tasked with dealing with those Wyld that managed to infiltrate the mortal plane. My record wasn’t stellar, but it wasn’t too bad, either.

  But it would’ve been a lot better if I hadn’t constantly been betrayed. I was beginning to appreciate some of Her Lady’s frustration.

  Kravayik didn’t deny my accusation. He spread his hands. “How could I not? How could I not try to offer them the salvation offered me?”

  “These are Wyld we’re talking about!”

  “I am not speaking of the dark things you rightly battle, Master Nicholas. These are the weak, the defenseless—”

  I scoffed. “Nothing of Feirie is defenseless. I warned Fetch. I was too forgiving in the first place. I should’ve had him surrender them.”

  “But for what final purpose? Would you have planned to execute each of them? You forgave both Fetch and I for our past sins, and both of us had particularly harsh, brutal backgrounds.”

  “That was different.”

  Kravayik smiled sadly. “Yes. It was exceptionally forgiving. These refugees have done nothing compared to us.”

  “What’ve you been doing with them?”

  “Finding places of safety, places where being what they are will not affect either them or the humans.”

  I didn’t like this one bit, but for now I couldn’t do much about it. I had too many problems just with Galerius. “This is insane, Kra-vayik, and it can’t go on.”

  “I agree. She must be made to put an end to her purge.”

  “That is not what I meant.”

  Eye
could singe him, interrupted the dragon, finally stirred enough to take part. Just a little bit. He might see sense then. What a fool. . .

  While I couldn’t argue the fool part, I declined his suggestion.“No.”

  Kravayik’s eyes widened. “I am the subject of discourse with him. I think it best I go.”

  “This can’t last. You know that. And I mean what you two are doing. You know her, Kravayik. She’ll take this personal. That’s not good.”

  “This was personal long ago, Master Nicholas. You made it so when you accepted that.” He pointed at my chest at exactly where I’d felt the sword. “You have no idea what that meant . . . and it can never be undone.”

  More damned riddles. “Just what do you mean by—”

  Fetch whined. I glanced at him, but he settled down almost immediately.

  I returned my attention to the elf. “So just what—?”

  Kravayik was gone.

  “Damned elf.”

  You should have let me singe him. Just a little.

  “There’s nothing little where you’re concerned. You’d have ended up setting the entire block on fire.”

  It would have been glorious, though . . .

  “Yeah. Okay.” I considered going after Kravayik, but realized he was already long gone. Instead, I knelt down by Fetch to better inspect his condition. He’d been cut open pretty bad in the process, but even those wounds had healed. Outwardly, he looked much better.

  His eyes opened. They were a little unfocused at first, but finally they fixed on me. “All . . . copacetic . . . copacetic? . . . Master Nicholas . . .”

  He went back to sleep before I could respond.

  “Did it work?” Claryce called. “Where’s Kravayik?”

  “Done and gone,” I answered as I stood. Claryce was alone. “Where’s our other friend?”

  “Some promise to Laertes. Apparently, she owes him a lot. She clearly didn’t want to go, especially with Kravayik here. So he just left after he finished?”