Order

by Larsen, Patti

  Wait, what?

  “Oliver is the commander’s youngest son,” Mabel whispered over my shoulder.

  And now it all made total sense.

  My guide/guard paused a moment, slipping his helmet into place at last. When he was done, I shivered at the shining hulk of metal he’d transformed into once again, the cold and lifeless faceplate covering his handsome features. But the jaunty way he gestured for me to follow him through the door at the end of the hall reassured me. I did as I was told without a word.

  Nice to have Mabel at my back, even if she wasn’t really my Mabel and had been parted from her wings in a most violent and unforgivable act. Something I’d never, ever share with my drach ancestress. I had no doubt, if she knew what happened, it would break her giant heart.

  I wasn’t prepared for the wide space we entered and gaped in shock as we crossed the far corner of an enormous room—that term being the only one I had to describe the giant cafeteria style and bench and table filled square far outstripping the massive one I knew at the Stronghold. And yet, as we quickly crossed without challenge toward another set of doors, I took tally of the bodies in the room, the echoing empty feeling of it, and wondered if maybe we were here at an off time.

  Or, more hopefully, that the ranks of the Order had been reduced to the small number of armor clad folk who rattled around inside the massive space.

  I missed completely the fact we were being approached due to my instinctual head counting, only noticing the three lóng who stopped us when I jerked to a halt thanks to Mabel’s hand on the back of my shirt. I gaped at the trio, realizing they were the same ones who we’d passed in the hallway on our way to see Shonya.

  The lead female with her heavy blonde braid eyed me with suspicion. “Where are you taking the prisoner?”

  Mabel hurried forward before Oliver could speak and to my utter horror prostrated herself before the lóng with her face pressed to the woman’s legs.

  “I beg you, mistress,” Mabel said in a quavering voice. “My daughter. Have you chosen her sentence?”

  Oliver moved on as if the three hadn’t stopped us at all and I marched beside him, his gauntleted hand grasping my arm and pulling me roughly along. We left Mabel behind, my heart aching for her as she sobbed and the three lóng —distracted so easily by their new toy—laughed at her suffering.

  We exited the big room without anyone else saying a thing and I exhaled in relief when the door closed behind us. Another black stone hallway, much like the first, empty and extending out into the distance.

  “We should be all right for a few minutes,” Oliver said, voice hollow behind his helmet. “But it will get hairy when we enter the drachmor cavern.”

  “Drachmor?” That wasn’t the first time I’d heard that term, but was the first chance I had to ask.

  He nodded. “You call them lóng,” he said, confirming the connection I’d already made. “But we know them as drachmor.”

  I had to think about it for a second before rolling my eyes at the arrogance of it. Drach more. More than drach. Classy.

  I had a huge question though, as we continued along the hallway. One that bothered me immensely. “This is too easy,” I said. “Why isn’t anyone else bothered by the fact Doombringer is out and about with a single Order soldier as a guard?”

  Now who was arrogant? Still, it seemed a logical question.

  Oliver didn’t laugh or, at least, I didn’t hear it. But there was definite humor in his voice when he answered.

  “You might be Doombringer,” he said, “but no one challenges the Order. And no Order soldier goes against our Master.”

  Except him and his mom. How precious.

  Sydlynn. Mabel’s mind reached mine, distant and sad. Trust the drach soul you carry. And save your friend. I wish I could have done so for the same one here.

  Something in the way she said it made cogs turn. Are you saying what I think you’re saying? Impossible. And yet, all along I’d wondered why the drach soul in my possession—okay, who’d taken ownership of me—I so readily accepted.

  Be safe, she sent. And save us all.

  No pressure or anything. Her mind left mine before I could prod her further and I sent her silent farewell. Maybe when this was done she could get her wings back.

  Fairy tales came true sometimes.

  Speaking of the ribbon, it flexed and spun as we approached the far door and I realized why when Oliver paused with his hand flat, pressed to the wood. “Their territory isn’t the same as ours,” he said. “We’ll have to move fast.”

  Or stealthy. I could feel the press of power beyond the portal, knew we were walking into a situation far less relaxed—if I could call it that—than the one the Order allowed. They might be full of themselves in believing I wasn’t a threat. But the lóng—the drachmor, I corrected myself—weren’t so foolish.

  The black ribbon shifted again, triggering my white sorcery. And, instantly, I had an idea. And kicked myself silently for not thinking of it before.

  “Rather than just waltzing into danger,” I said, “how about a disguise?” I reached into my memory for the image of the lóng bodyguards that used to stand beside Moa, the vampire Empress. Their faces were familiar enough and their Chinese dragon forms just as much thanks to my repeated exposure to Jiao. Maybe we wouldn’t pass careful scrutiny, but I’d figured out enough playing with Sass’s physical form I could at least create an illusion that would hold up.

  Or so I told myself. Oliver’s tall, shining form shifted in my view from hulking Order soldier to slim, almond eyed dangerousness. Those eyes widened, flickering with panic as his new form settled around him.

  “What power is that?” He shivered, as if trying to shake off the lean shape, the lóng he appeared rippling in my second sight. It would do.

  Ah, right. “Something you don’t have to worry about,” I said. “Unless this goes badly. Then, well. I’ll tell you about it if they let us live long enough.”

  “Looking forward to it,” he said, even as he flinched and glanced back the way we’d come.

  “What?” I felt a mustache move on my upper lip, twitched it in irritation. I had to pick the one with the facial hair.

  He shrugged, dark eyes narrowing. “They know you’re missing,” he said. “We’d better hurry.” And, instead of trying to lead me away or argue with me how dangerous this was, he opened the door and went in search of my friend.

  No matter what happened from here on in, Oliver had my respect. And my thanks.

  Into the dragon’s lair, quite literally. I practiced my "don’t mess with me" Jiao/Charlotte/crankass face, ignoring the two drachmor we passed the instant we entered their domain. This part of the mountain was rougher hewn but bubbled with magic, as if the very rock housed the power of the drach evolution. Without time to even hope we might fool them, I exhaled a moment later, Oliver striding confidently at my side with a sultry swing to his now narrow hips.

  “I could use a trick like this,” he said, odd hearing his voice emerging from the lóng’s mouth.

  The corridor wasn’t deep, ending quickly in a vast cavern I recognized. This was where they’d taken us when we’d first been captured. The stalagmites and stalactites perches of a few drachmor were, I could only guess, the real homes of the species. So weird to see all the different kinds of them wheeling above, going about their business. Hard not to stare. I had to remind myself I was under cover a few times and jerk my gaze forward.

  If this wasn’t so scary and stupid and risky, I’d be really enjoying the view.

  Why aren’t they reacting to my escape? I aimed that question as tightly as I could.

  Oliver’s dark head tipped slightly in my direction. My mother is doing her best to keep our “disgrace” to the Order for now, he sent. She’s browbeating our people into finding you. But the drachmor will be alerted shortly, I assure you. We have to hurry.

  He didn’t have to encourage me or anything. With sure strides and a deadly manner I coveted, Oliver cr
ossed the large cavern and led me to a set of stairs. Down we descended deeper underground. It reminded me too much of the staircase to my own prison and I had to wipe at beads of sweat on my upper lip, wetting my mustache. Ew. How did guys handle facial hair? Great thing to be thinking about when visions of my guide betraying me made my heart pound. I was in a frazzled lather when he stopped at last at the far end of the rough-hewn tunnel and spun open the heavy, metal door.

  Oliver didn’t speak, unsealing the portal with a whisper of power and stepping through to the other side, leaving me to follow. Heart clenched against what might wait for me, I joined him, pulling the door shut behind me.

  No Max, just a pit leading down into darkness. I peered over the edge, my vertigo kicking in. But I caught sight of a gray tail, a claw and forgot in that instant I was afraid of heights. Sorcery lowered me into the hole, my mind at least collected enough I remembered to use the power of this Universe. I had no idea if the elemental magicks inside me would trigger some kind of response so I couldn’t risk it.

  My knees hit the hard rock when I collapsed onto them next to the lump of what had been my friend, a sob escaping me as I took in what they had done to him. Giant head bleeding from several places, a long, narrow bank of claw marks across his wide ribs. A deep slice into his tail, multiple wounds weeping blood. But none of that was the worst of his injuries, all of it I knew he could heal with time and help.

  Alive, he was alive. But maybe he didn’t want to be anymore. I leaned in and touched his drach face with my shaking hands, letting my old appearance emerge as I whispered his name and did my best not to stare at the two charred, empty lumps over his shoulders.

  Max’s wings were gone.

  ***

  Chapter Thirty Four

  The black ribbon on my wrist flexed in sympathy as I pressed my forehead against Max’s muzzle, tears streaming down my face. He was warm at least, not the icy cold of death, though I feared he was close to it after all. When I finally lifted my head, his diamond eye opened and fixed on me.

  “Syd,” he whispered, musical voice harsh and heavy, his normally fresh, spring like breath full of decay.

  “I’ll kill them for this.” My rage rose in a fiery wave, my demon howling inside me, Shaylee shaking the ground beneath us. But it was the black ribbon on my wrist that pulled me out of my anger. It slipped from my skin and wound itself around Max’s brow ridge, humming softly to him while his big eye closed again.

  Syd, my vampire sent, her grief as heavy as mine. We have to get out of here. Or we’ll lose him.

  Agreed. And here I was wasting my energy on anger. I surged to my feet, turned to find my magical transformation of Oliver had ended when my own fell away. He stood staring at Max with regret, though his fear was palpable at last.

  “If you’re going to escape,” he said, voice tight, gaze turning upward to the cell above, “I suggest you get at it.”

  I heard them then, the shrieking of the drachmor. They knew. They were coming.

  Let them come. We’d be long gone before they came near. And I’d not be saving their asses when the time came, you’d better believe it. The bloody drachmor could burn in hell for what they’d done right along with their damned Dark Brother master.

  I reached for Gabriel, for the veil, diving into it even as power hit the door upstairs. It was only then I realized Oliver had barred the way, made time for me to escape. I stared at him while my mind cried out for my son with all the magic I had.

  Oliver’s mother was right. I was going to get him killed.

  “Syd,” Max’s voice reached me as I screamed again for Gabriel, fought the veil for any sign my son heard me. Nothing, just emptiness. This veil didn’t know me, didn’t want me here. It fought me, struggling against me and, as it did, I felt him coming. Felt his awareness roused by my cries, his attention drawn. And panic kicked me hard in the heart.

  Dark Brother. He was coming. I had to reach Gabriel. Now.

  “Syd.” Again Max called to me. I turned, desperate and terrified. “Leave me.”

  Oh, hell no. “If I could find a way out,” I snapped at him, “I’d consider it. Now shut up and let me work here.” I drew on my white sorcery, threw it at the veil. Again I was repelled, the rubbery membrane of this Universe absorbing my magic for its own.

  Damn it, I thought I was supposed to go home. I spun toward Oliver, saw his grim determination past his fear, watched a flaming sword appear in his hands, almost as tall as he was. The dark orange glow pulsed with the icy blue of the hottest fire as he took a step toward me before turning, creating a barrier between me and Max and what was coming for us above.

  “It’s been a pleasure,” he said. “Now get the hell out of here and let me die for you already.”

  “You have a death wish?” I cast about me in need, in growing despair, knowing we were all lost after all, that Fate was wrong and Trill betrayed me to die here, torn apart by Dark Brother and the drachmor.

  Oliver shrugged, armor catching fire as the door above burst inward, showering us with fragments and the sound of wings deafened me. At least I finally did something, he sent.

  No way could I let such strength of will go to waste.

  Turned out, it wasn’t my job in the end. Something clamped around my wrist and, tying itself firmly to my magic, pushed me headlong into the darkness of the veil.

  The black ribbon, the soul of the drach, flew beside me, vague form taking shape next to me as it did. That spirit and its power the veil recognized, withdrawing reluctantly, giving me the gap I needed to call out to my son at last.

  To find the doorway Trill had left behind. Even as a beloved face smiled at me just as the black ribbon’s mortal form vanished into the twitching thing around my wrist. Fresh tears trickled as I realized the truth while a mind I loved more than life itself grasped onto mine and screamed.

  MOM!

  I fell back into myself, having never really been in the veil, only my conscious mind gone to that place. Pressure compressed the world around me, pushing me down toward the rock, toward Max’s prone form while the blazing armor of the Order soldier before me held the darkness at bay long enough for my son to get through. For a Gateway to form.

  I shoved Max into it with all my strength, my magic hurtling him past the entry and across the Universe. He, at least, would survive. Something slammed into my back, driving me to my knees, and I turned in time to find the blonde drachmor woman standing over me while Oliver was swarmed with power.

  Jiao appeared at her side, smiling at me. “Mistress,” my former friend said to the blonde before turning her with an efficient grasp and punching the woman full in the face.

  Now. Jiao grasped me by one arm and threw me at the Gateway, her own slim body pursing mine. But as I fell through, my shoulders hitting the edge, I saw Oliver go down and knew I couldn’t just let him die. He’d saved my life, risked everything for a Fate he trusted. And his mother’s fear… I knew a mother’s fear.

  Zoe’s voice sounded loud in my head, though it was only a memory. When you meet him, you will know him.

  White sorcery lashed out in a flash of instinct, enough to part the drachmor from him, enough to latch onto his flaming armor and pull.

  And then we were falling and the way was darkness, spinning madness, the veil a spitting, snarling creature until I felt myself split and pivot, embraced by a love I knew well, the welcoming warmth of the veil on my side. An instant later I was out, crashing to the ground in the grass of my backyard in Wilding Springs.

  Oliver hit me with his full weight, falling on top of me, armor still hot from the fire. He rolled over instantly, the metal encasing his body ringing with the impact. I gasped in a breath to lungs knocked empty by the landing, choking on the fresh air a moment.

  Home.

  Dear elements, were we really home?

  A small, vibrating bundle slammed into me and hugged me around my neck, squeezing so hard I lost my breath a second time. “Mom,” he whispered over and over ag
ain. “Mom!”

  I hated to push him free, but fear won the war for my attention and I found myself screaming in my head for the one person I knew could help. MABEL!

  She came, she and a handful of drach, appearing instantly in the yard, hovering around Max. He’d managed to half change himself into partial drach/ human form, though his missing wings were obvious, the spaces behind his shoulders blackened and weeping cloudy ichor. Mabel didn’t say anything, though her sadness at his condition told me what I needed to know.

  “Will he be okay?” I choked on the fear I’d gotten my friend killed when the other drach took Max away, leaving the tall, beautiful woman whose bloodline I carried behind.

  “He will live,” she said, voice shaking with emotion. “Because you brought him home to us.”

  “His wings.” I sobbed the words. “Mabel.”

  She nodded, suddenly firm and in control. “Can be regrown,” she said. “Leave his care to us. For now, you have what you went for?”

  My hand went protectively to my right pocket, the lump of plastic. “I do,” I said, unable to muster enthusiasm into my dull voice.

  “All is well then,” she said, though her eyes widened as she stared over my shoulder and I knew what she looked at before I even turned with a sigh to examine the tall, shining man in full armor in my backyard. The least he could do was stop smoking, puffs of the now silent fire he’d called escaping in little bouts from the creases of his metal plating as he planted himself at attention.

  Showoff.

  But I didn’t address Oliver yet, not when Jiao came to me, embraced me. I hugged her back, not knowing what to do or say.

  I would never betray you, she sent. Never. Such fierceness in her. She leaned away, stared into my eyes. We have much to discuss, a great deal of intel to share. They are evil, Syd. And must be stopped at all costs.

  She left me alone then, turning to slip into the arms of the young man who watched me with fearful eyes. Sassafras embraced her without shame or hesitation and confirmed what I already knew. A couple then. Good for them.