Face down at the governor’s feet lay Jyldrar. The drifter’s head lay at an awkwardly crooked angle, one of his cheeks submerged in a dark puddle of cave water. Water bubbles erupted from a spot close to his mouth as the carrier of the Elder Code breathed into the rockpool.
To Gideon’s right stood a slightly surprised looking Ankou. The Unseelie King appeared somewhat embarrassed by our presence. As if his unsavory side might have been something he’d have much rather not have us see. Behind Ankou was the swirling blue and cream lights of the Mag Mell portal; its eerie illuminations casting shape-shifting shadows on the tall spine of rock that stood behind the gateway.
On either side of the governor stood a meaty looking -- sorry, but I’m going to say it anyway -- meathead. One of the giants moved forward toward us with a speed that surprised me, but Shields held up a hand almost instantly. “No. Wait,” he said, taking a step toward us, shoving an unconscious Jyldrar with his foot as he moved. “I’d very much like our friends to see this.” He turned toward the coiled form of golden scales that lay peacefully at his feet. The only sound that came from the beast was a gentle sigh that rose and fell as it slumbered in the realm of its lizard-like dreams. “I’m sure they’d be more than interested in seeing the birth of our boy here.” The governor’s face broke into a sunny smile. “Warlock tech at its finest needs to be witnessed to be believed.”
I stared at him, my chest and throat tight with fury and frustration. You won’t find this surprising, but I was really struggling to see what our next move could be. It seemed we’d only just arrived and we were already in a slightly tight spot.
My eyes moved to the stone in Shields’ hand; a black rock pulsating with energetic light. Gideon pushed a caramel curl from his boyish face, his eyes all twinkling mirth. I averted my gaze from the Tiamat quickly. “Oh, come now, Miss. Jenkins. You need not be shy here. Of course, you’re interested in the heart of Tiamat,” he said, tossing the stone from one hand to the other with a casual confidence. “It’s a terrible shame your Wyrmrig candidate here isn’t going to get the chance to touch it, I’ll admit. A dragon fight might have been … fun.” Shields looked directly into my eyes. “But I have no time for such battles. Your Elder Code carrier is toast, and it’s carnage I’m interested in, as you’ve probably guessed. I’d really just like to do my worst, as it were. And soon. Do you understand what I’m saying Miss. Jenkins? At this time I am declining this man-of-fate’s application.” The governor brought his foot down on Typhon Jyldrar’s head with a sickening crack. The still man on the floor remained motionless.
“You’re a terrible man!” Hinrika howled, balling her fists at her sides. Tears pushed clean tracks through the Fairy Queen’s grubby cheeks and fell in fat blobs on her dirty, shredded ball gown.
“Why thank you, lady of the Faroe Islands,” Shields said, genuinely grateful for the compliment.
“Why? Why do you want to inflict so much senseless damage on a bunch of innocent beings?” I tried to keep my voice steady, but I wavered. Big time. I realized how weak and scared I must have sounded to a powerful Warlock who presently held all the cards. David staggered forward, resting a hand on my shoulder as he confronted the governor. “How .. how can you satisfy your ... hunger ... for power if everyone’s … dead?”
Shields’ groomed brows shot upward. “Oh, dear, oh, dear. Someone doesn’t look too well.” The governor shook his head in mock regret, and the rocket of rage that shot up through my body made me lunge at the smarmy man. “Why, you --”
Portia caught my arm in a vice-like grip, and mouthed the word ‘don’t.’ I stopped in my tracks and felt my fury swirl and bubble like lava inside me.
Shields gave another shake of his head, “Miss. Jenkins, if you’d allow me to elucidate your good man here? I’d very much like to answer his question.” The governor promptly turned to David, not waiting for my response.
“Chief Para Inspector Trew, to answer your query, my ‘hunger,’ as you put it, for power isn’t in any way diminished. I know it might seem that way at first glance, but an earthly reign isn’t necessarily the end all and be all of rewards to be had.”
The veins in David’s neck bulged, his tendons pulled into ever-tightening violin strings. “You’re … making no sense. I didn’t ask for … riddles.”
Shields chuckled, an earnest sound that could almost conceal the dark quality of his character. His hands floated toward the ceiling of the cave in a deferential dance. He looked above his head, and said fondly: “But, CPI Trew, the cosmos is nothing but a riddle.”
“The ROP,” David muttered, swaying on his feet and adding more weight to my right shoulder.
“Oh, you know of my work?” Gideon said, delighted. “I’m indeed flattered, Chief Para Inspector.”
The chief lifted his chin, and his cool blue eyes bored into the governor’s own amber eyes. “If you find your facility in the Drakon Dunes being raided ‘flattering,’" my friend said, somehow managing to keep his voice even. “My men are halfway to North Illwind already, pal. They’ll be at your launch pad within the hour. Sorry to scatter your stardust, but your escape launch just isn’t going to happen.” The chief slumped forward, evidently spent from the effort of so many words.
Shields’ slow-dawning smile was reptilian. His eyes widened in pretend shock. “What, no worshipers to see me off?”
Worshipers? Odd word choice.
“We’ll see, CPI Trew, we’ll see. But before we get too bogged down in rocket science, please let me conclude business with my friend here.” He turned to Ankou, checking his Vacheron Constantin watch at the same time. “Ankou, I believe we’re ready to wrap up our affairs, my friend,” he said. “Perhaps you’d like to access the Bank of Alchemy through your personal device now? I’m sure I wouldn’t sleep if the transaction didn’t go through. I want to be certain everyone’s happy, of course.” Shields placed a friendly minister’s hand on Ankou’s shoulder which the Unseelie King shrugged off immediately.
Ankou checked his device. He raised his head and offered the governor a slow and solemn nod. Gideon clapped his tanned hands together. “Excellent! Well, onto the last piece of the puzzle then,” he said, taking a step closer to the sleeping gold-scaled dragon, his stone-wielding hand outstretched toward the tech-made creature. He turned abruptly and narrowed his eyes at Ankou. “You remember how this works, yes? You gave me my dragon; I gave you your payment. You’ve verified the payment has cleared. Now I activate this chap and throw the stone into the portal, and you will shut the door to this portal forever. Or at least until after tomorrow....” Shields broke off in a torrent of childish snickering and turned back to us. “Now, CPI Trew, going back to what were you saying. The reason I’m not interested in an earthly rule is because there are galaxies above our head that positively beg for the strong and steady hand of a competent ruler. You heard me right. I said Galaxies. Not just one lonely blue marble such as this, you see ...” He waved offhandedly in front of him. Shields pitched the Tiamat stone from one hand to the next as he moved nearer to the dragon’s sleeping form, stepping over the fallen Jyldrar as he paced.
“Of course, the speech,” Gloom said out the corner of her mouth. “There’s always a speech from the bad guy before the good guys get offed.”
“Yeah, but usually this is where the good guys throw in a surprise move badass enough to make the baddie regret the time he took to give his closing words.” Eclipse noted.
“I’ve got nothing, bro,” Shade commiserated, keeping his eyes on the pompous Warlock.
Portia nudged me with her elbow. “Ankou’s our only hope now,” she said. “You said he was prepared for Shields’ double-cross? Maybe he’s got something rigged on the portal that won’t allow the governor to close it.”
I nodded, but inside I knew that the governor would be one step ahead of the Unseelie King. There was just no way that Ankou would be able to keep his intentions hidden from the Warlock Chief.
“....so of course, if there are other
life forms up there, then I will need to show the rulers of these civilizations my resume, won’t I?” Gideon chuckled again. “And what better ‘work experience’ to provide them than single-handed annihilation of a planet’s citizens at the wand of none other than yours truly.” Shields was one step away from his dragon now. It pretty much looked like our fiery fate was sealed. The governor sighed; a lengthy, pitying sound. “But, anyway, this is all by the by now, so if you’ll all excuse me, I really must get on with the destruction.” The Warlock Chief stared fondly down at his Black Diamond tech creation.
“It’s time for you to wake, my sweet boy,” he cooed, and with that, the governor bent down and touched the stone to the slumbering beast’s sleeping head.
It’s all over.
Shields turned toward Ankou. “Now my friend, you may have this stone. It is time for you to close the portal.”
Ankou’s lips curled up into a strange smile; clearly, the faery ruler had something up his sleeve then.
“And, of course, my friend, I have already taken measures against any sneaky little device that might keep the portal from shutting.” Shields plucked something from his shirt pocket and held it up before the noble faery. “Nice try, my fairy brother,” he said. “But I found it almost immediately.” The governor threw the magical faerie artifact toward the back of the cavern. We heard it clatter uselessly to the ground. Ankou’s eyes squinted into slits of black rage. “Why you --”
“Aha!” Shields mocked, waving an effeminate finger at the Unseelie King. “None of that now, my friend. It is time.” Shields aimed the Tiamat at the elven gateway, and he threw the stone in a high arc. The Custodians and the cats watched in silent horror as our fate flew through the clammy cavern. The Tiamat rolled end-over-end in the air, dropping toward the maw of the gate with alarming speed. I sunk to my knees at the same time David hurled himself through the air toward the disappearing stone. I thought for a second that my friend was going to make it, too. The chief’s fingers glanced off the angled edge of the rock, but the brief contact wasn’t enough to stop the stone’s destined trajectory into the gate. It fell, with shimmering grace into the blue and cream lights and disappeared out of sight. Not one second after, the portal collapsed on itself, taking Ankou and the Tiamat heart with it. Gone. David, in the meantime, hit by a charge of energy too big for his fragile body to handle, flew over the length of spiny rock that stood behind the Mag Mellian gateway.
“David!” I screamed, turning toward the mass of stone he disappeared behind. I felt as if I had left my body; my heart squeezed out of existence.
“Oh dear, oh dear,” Gideon said, shaking his head. “CPI Trew probably didn’t know that not just any chump can handle the power of the Tiamat. If he’s not dead already, he soon will be, as the stone’s energy makes its way into his bloodstream.”
“You scum of the earth!” Gloom shrilled. “You’ll pay for this!” Tears poured freely from my she-kitty’s eyes.
“Dear rodent, you’re very much mistaken, I’m afraid,” Shields said, pinning Gloom with a maniac’s gaze. “But, please, don’t take my word for it. Let us all just watch Sweet Boy awake from his nap, shall we?” The governor’s eyes grew misty as he gazed upon his creation.
The dragon twitched his tail; the ruthless spines along his appendage bristling with hideous life.
“No,” Fraidy whispered. “It’s not supposed to end like this.”
I couldn’t comfort my cat because my insides had died at the apparent loss of the man of my dreams. A slithering, leathery sound brought me from my stupor somewhat, and I lifted my head in time to see Sweet Boy unfurl from his doze. The dragon’s eyes flew open. Two perfect discs of tumultuous fire bored into us.
“Well, hello, young man,” Shields murmured adoringly, as his pet came to. “Welcome to the world. We won’t be here long, but welcome anyway.” The dragon stretched and raised itself to its feet. It brushed its massive head against the governor’s side in tender fealty.
The Warlock Chief sighed again and offered us a regretful look. “And now my friends, it is time for your purification.” He stroked the side of Sweet Boy’s throat and murmured. “Incinerate them.”
The dragon reared on its hind legs, its eyes widening to mind-boggling proportions. It sucked in a giant breath; a breath so deep it inhaled the damp air straight out of the cavern. Sweet Boy turned toward us. And that’s when our second - life saving, this time -- miracle played out. The beast blew out a jet of fiery breath just as Fraidy’s tiny form flew through the air to meet the torrent of flame. My brave moggie’s helmet touched the fire instantly and was ripped from his head without ceremony, and falling to the floor in a clatter. My courageous kitty fell soon after, and I winced as I heard my Fraidy hit the ground with a horrendous thud.
“Nooooooooooo!!” I yelled, running to my cat.
“IRUSAN!” Hinrika screamed, running to join me. I had a second to wonder what the Faery Queen had just shouted.
My kitty lay still.
Sobbing, I pressed my cheek against his chest. I didn’t feel the fall and rise of his breath.
The other cats ran over, each of them trying to get a paw on their fallen brother.
“No,” Gloom said. “No, this isn’t happening.”
Crying until my eyes blurred, my tears fell onto my stricken cat as I administered CPR. I couldn’t feel a heartbeat. I couldn’t feel his respiration. I pumped gently, counting the beats in my head before I applied pressure again.
No. He’s not dead. He’s not.
“Boss?” Shade said, tears pouring freely down his furry cheeks. “Is he … is Fraidy dead?”
I couldn’t answer. My body broke down into heaving sobs, as my hands flew over my deathly still kitty, trying to find signs of life.
Nothing.
My head shot up to stare at Shields. “You killed him.” I spat the words through clenched teeth.
“Well, yes, Miss. Jenkins, I should certainly hope so,” he said. “I didn’t pay all this money just for Sweet Boy to make friends.” The governor cleared his throat. “But now the hero-play is out of the way, it’s time we finish this off, I think.” He nodded at his golden-scaled creature once more, and Sweet Boy sucked in another few hundred gallons of air in preparation for his final fiery glory.
A deep and cavernous sighing sound filled the chamber. Even Shields turned his head toward the noise. The governor’s beast stopped in his tracks, looking with uncertainty at his creator.
I heard and sensed the unfurling of something large and ancient, followed by a deep and low snarling.
What the …
And although the horror before our eyes didn’t exactly have the stamp of ‘miraculous,’ our next miracle surveyed us from its spot behind the rock ridge.
A pair of eyes, relics from a time long gone, rose above the spiny stand of rock. A dusty, scaled body followed those eyes of fire.
“David!” I yelled, scooping up the inert Fraidy into my arms. The Wyrmrig! The real Wyrmrig!
Shields’ lower jaw fell to the floor. “Not possible,” he muttered. “Not possible.”
The Wyrmrig clawed its way from behind the rock wall until it sat atop the spine of the stone. It eyed the governor and his dragon with its brimstone glare. The Wyrmrig extended his neck and sniffed the air through giant, flaring nostrils, an iridescent shimmer of blue and green just visible beneath the dust of its scales.
Shields’ head swiveled in all directions. He grabbed the arm of his nearest henchman. “Don’t just stand there! Do something!” He shouted, fumbling for his wand, and instructing his dragon to stay close. “Kill it!” The governor shrieked in a frenzied voice. His henchmen lifted their rifles and aimed it at the Wyrmrig’s head. I could see the infrared dot find a spot between the creature’s formidable eyes. David sucked in air, and for a second I thought he was going to turn the goons into a pile of ash, but instead, the dragon released his barbed tail and smacked Shields’ cronies to the far side of the cave in one effortless s
woop. I heard them hit the stone wall and slide like a bundle of wet blankets down to the hard floor.
A commotion from Shields and his pet caught my attention. The governor was incanting a strange spell. It was an unfamiliar magic, uttered in some archaic Warlock tongue. He pointed his wand at the thick wall of rock that led to the outside of Burning Peak.
Without warning the wall of the cavern, rippled and shifted until its solidity gave way to complete transparency. The wall just completely evaporated. And Shields and his dragon flew out into the open freedom of Cathedral’s skies. We stood, staring at the fleeing Warlock and his golden pet. But we were all quickly bowled over by a rush of howling wind as the Wyrmrig raced past to take chase.
“Trewlove’s the freakin’ Elder Code carrier?” Shade said, jumping to his feet. His small face showed what we all felt right now: stunned silence.
“Quick!” Portia said. “There’s no time for discussion now. We need to steer those dragons over to Glessie Isle. To Dilwyn Werelamb’s farm.”
“Huh?” I said, placing Fraidy gently inside my jacket. I still couldn’t tell if he was breathing or not, and I felt on the verge of losing the plot completely. “What do you mean, Dilwyn’s farm? What are you talking about?”
“Werelamb called while we were herding the drifter here,” Vee explained. “Millie’s there with him. She found something in the Avalon texts, and they have a plan to put Shields’ dragon out of commission.”
Portia shooed Verdantia away. “Go and get the brooms,” the Witch Fearwyn instructed. “Hattie, you and he cats can ride with one of the fairies.”
“What about Jyldrar?” I asked, pointing to the prone man on the floor. The drifter was breathing, but still unconscious.
The Angel and the Dragon Page 20