In other words, he could not trust his eyes.
When daylight hit, he might be able to fly again and survey the landscape more. He hated this place and wished for the plainer, less populous landscape of his reign. He preferred his dominion in shadows, with just enough light to be worshipped in.
A whirring sound filled the air, quiet at first, like a distant insect. Then it grew louder.
Dark looked around.
The navy sky was empty except for a wave of clouds billowing over him.
The whirring grew louder, like a large drone of locusts.
Locusts.
Dark had dealt with locusts. He had burned clouds of them out of the sky to prevent disease. They appeared from time to time and they were an easy problem.
Yes, if these were locusts he would be ready for them. He would give them a burning like the world had never seen. He would burn them out of the sky and let their charred husks fall to the earth for humans and elves to feast on. And they would worship him!
No, they would not worship him, for his subjects were dead.
He breathed smoke from his nostrils, tasted it on his lips.
He was ready for them. He was going to destroy those locusts.
He passed through another cloud.
When he emerged on the other end he saw a barrage of blinking lights.
A huge metal vessel hurtled through the sky at him. It moved faster than the speed of a dragon with wings that didn’t flap, and its metal body shone in the moonlight.
It was no locust.
It was no bird.
Whatever it was, it was heading straight for him and it wasn’t going to move.
On the front of the creature, in the place of eyes, were three windows that reminded Dark of a fly’s eyes.
He squinted as he neared, and he saw what looked like elves.…
Elves?
They sat inside the creature with their mouths wide open. They had fearful faces that quickly turned into anger. They swatted the air with their hands, and from their mouths, it looked like they were screaming.
Dark’s eyes widened and he turned out of the creature’s way just in time.
Whack!
One of the metal wings grazed Dark. Pain erupted in his shoulder.
It was burning. Smoke rose from his scales.
He yelled, patted himself and brushed the smoke away.
“Damn you!” he cried.
The creature spiraled through the sky in a nose dive. But it corrected itself and continued its trajectory, flying in a straight line.
What kind of creature was that?
His pain distracted him from the thought. The impact had weakened his wings and the urge to rest waved over him.
His left wing throbbed like a pulled muscle, and every flap sent blasts of excruciating pain through him.
He couldn’t rest.
He was miles above ground.
“Come on, old dragon,” Dark told himself. “Keep on flying.”
But his left wing was beginning to fail.
He had pushed himself too hard.
Gritting his teeth, he let the wind carry him downward, flapping as little as he could until the city lights flew up to meet him in all their topaz-like glory.
He had to land.
He had to rest.
He slowed his descent. The silhouettes of the buildings carved themselves out of the darkness, each one a universe of lights.
Another whirring sound filled the air and his heart skipped a beat.
This one was tinnier, like a giant hornet.
He saw it in the sky—a lone black shape flying in a lilting way, with a single wing over its head that looked like whirling swords. It was smaller than the creature he saw earlier, with a purple stripe along its body.
They were going to cross paths.
Dark roared as loud as he could, and the black figure swerved to the side, its bladed wings narrowly missing Dark’s face.
Still he descended further, and now the buildings sprung up around him, and he weaved between two tall ones, noticing his reflection on them. They were made of glass and looked hopelessly cold.
As he fanned over the city, he looked for a place to land. He needed a place of refuge.
He flew along the parallel lines that divided the city and noticed that there were smaller lights inside them, and the lights were moving in both directions. Were they the cars that he had seen in the news broadcasts?
He thought so.
He had to remind himself that this city was bustling with humans and elves; that every square inch of it was populated.
And then he saw it: a large grassy square amidst all the lights. There were some lights here and there, but it was a dark jewel in the night, with patches of water throughout.
Surely this must be a quiet place where he could rest!
He steered toward it and passed another glass building. As he rounded it, something roared at him.
It was a dragon.
A Keeper. Its scales were blood red and it flapped its wings quickly to maneuver around Dark. She was young—not more than one thousand years old.
“Share the skies!” the dragon snapped.
He had longed to see another dragon, and yet she was baring her teeth at him.
“I didn’t see you,” Dark said.
The dragon continued her flight over the city. Her voice trailed away as she said, “Old dragons like you should never be let off the ground.”
He boiled at the remark. “Do you know who I am, girl?!”
But the dragon was gone.
Dark growled. She was obviously a misguided youth.
That would end soon.
The grassy patch was closer now. He pushed his head down and tucked his wings closer in to prepare for landing.
The air whipped at his face, but he ignored it, ready to rest.
There were trees among the patch.
He’d curl up under a clump of trees and he would sleep undisturbed. He’d drink the wild water and relish it on his tongue as he slept under an open sky for the first time in a thousand years.
The ground filled in with subtle textures he couldn’t see from above.
Wooden benches. Rocky, gray serpentine paths. People walking dogs on ropes. Lanterns on long, skinny iron posts.
Maybe not as quiet as he hoped.
He needed subterfuge. Though if humans, elves and dragons truly were living together then his presence might be unremarkable.
He swiped the air with a claw. His scales changed color from black to gray.
A temporary disguise.
It would last for a few hours, long enough for him to rest.
He readied himself for landing.
SNAP!
A shock rippled through his scales.
Sparks burst around him like lightning struck him.
He tried to flap his wings but they were bound to his body.
He was covered in metal ropes, and the ropes were connected to wooden poles that were planted in the ground. He was pulling them out of the ground as he flew.
In a flash, all the lights in the immediate vicinity blinked out.
He lost sight of the park, pushed the metal wires off himself but he lost his momentum and fell out of the sky.
He struck a hard surface, rolling several times.
All over, the wooden poles landed around him like felled trees.
He staggered up, steadying himself.
Behind him, the city was dark.
Ahead, a tall television played. It was almost as tall as the building that housed it, and it was so bright Dark had to look away at first until his eyes adjusted.
The grassy area was behind him. He needed to get back there.
He turned to walk away as the television spoke.
“A Magic Hope City treasure! From the daughters of acclaimed dragon historian Moss comes a piece of art that will move your soul.”
Dark stopped. Had the television said Moss’s name?
He
watched as two young, slender Crafter dragons twirled on a stage in what looked like the largest amphitheater he had ever seen. The dragons sang as multi-colored lights bore down on them, and a crowd of people waved their hands in the air.
The dragons…
They were gray, like Moss.
They even had his same facial features—jowled faces, red eyes, and long, bristling manes. They had sweet, mellifluous voices and sang lyrics that Dark did not understand. The rhythm of the words grated against his ears, and the stresses were in the wrong places—they were unlike the metered rhythm of traditional dragon song.
The red dragons wrapped around each other and twisted their heads graciously as the audience threw flowers at them.
“Meah and Mynthia, Live at The Cistern!”
Dark stared at the screen, his mouth agape. Could those young dragons have truly been Moss’s children?
Lights washed across his body, and then a loud screeching sound.
A truck barreled toward him and tried to brake.
Dark yelled and ran off the road, dragging the metal wires and wooden poles behind him like an extended tail.
The truck rolled over, spilling scrap metal over the road.
Dark ripped the metal wires off his body and dashed into the shadows behind him.
He crashed through several trees, and he tumbled face-first into a pool of water.
Suddenly he was underwater with murky depths rolling around him. He could only see bubbles rising from his mouth.
He pedaled and broke through the surface.
He was inside a large pond. Several elves were gathered around, staring at him suspiciously.
Upon seeing them, he flapped his wings and lifted himself out of the water.
He couldn’t stay here now.
They were too suspicious.
Pain seared through his wing as he rose above the rooftops, looking around frantically. He flew again, his wings barely keeping him in the air.
His heart raced. His scales ached. The pain in his eye socket returned, burning like a small sun.
He spied a nearby high-rise with vegetation on the roof. No one was on it.
He touched down on it and landed on soft, moist grass. Panting, he lay his head down, felt the grass’s dampness against his face.
He slept.
XXI
The alarms grated against Miri’s ears. She had never heard anything louder in her life. They swelled and blared and screamed, and she wondered if they would give her temporary hearing loss.
Earl pushed open the brushed metal doors into the factory production floor, and a blast of hot air hit them as they ran inside.
Dark’s cage was busted open. The metal bars twisted upon themselves as if they had suffered an explosion. Glass was scattered all over the floor.
Their eyes went up to the glass skylight, which was broken and let in soft moonbeams that glinted off the shards of broken glass.
“We’ve got to get the alarms off,” Lucan said. He stopped at an electrical box and entered a passcode. Then the alarms quickly stopped and the area grew silent.
Even though the alarms had stopped, Miri’s ears still rang.
“Damn,” Lucan said, inspecting the damage. He dug his hands into his pockets and whistled. “How the hell did he get out?”
Miri walked around the cage, studying it. She couldn’t make sense of the aftermath. “You tell me. I thought you had safety measures to prevent it.”
“Alarms. I magicked the cage myself. The bars were reinforced steel. Not even a dragon could bust through them.”
Miri ran her fingers along one of smooth steel bars. It was grimed with meat grease. She smelled the fat; it was still fresh.
Lucan was on his phone. “Officer? No, there’s no need to come. One of my employees accidentally tripped the alarm. That’s all. No, no, thank you for calling. Sorry to have interrupted your night.”
He hung up and tucked the phone in his shirt pocket. “I just saved us all from some very uncomfortable questions. That’s about the only victory we can claim tonight.”
Earl cleared his throat. He had been standing near a forklift. The keys were still in the ignition. “Sir, if the police weren’t here yet, wouldn’t that mean the dragon was nearby? His wings were busted, weren’t they?”
“Good point,” Lucan said. He looked above and focused on a ladder that led up to the roof.
“Are there security cameras?” Miri asked.
“Nope,” Lucan said. “They’re wirelessly connected so I was afraid of them being hacked.”
He started for the ladder but Earl grabbed his arm. “You can’t go up there. What if he’s waiting?”
“I’ve got a spell ready for him,” Lucan said, patting his pocket.
“But your arm, sir.”
Lucan clucked his tongue. “Miri, get up there.”
But she ignored him. She entered the cage and knelt. The smell of vomit assaulted her nose. Then she noticed a pile of it on the floor.
“Lucan,” she said nervously.
She reached down and picked up several vomit-stained grimoires.
“What the—” Lucan’s eyes widened. “Are you fucking kidding me? How did he get them?”
Miri pointed to several stacks of grimoires in the distance. Sarcastically, she said “They’re everywhere. It’s a grimoire factory.”
Lucan shook his head. “The stacks were away from the cage. Gus and Orion made sure of that. He couldn’t have reached them if he tried. Plus, the cage was sealed with a magical barrier.”
“What kind of barrier?” Miri asked.
“A defensive one.”
“There’s only one way to overcome a defensive barrier,” Miri said. “And that’s to use magic that is stronger than the spell that casted it.”
“I used a grimoire from my classic collection. It’s the best magic money can buy, Miri,” Lucan said, irritated.
She pulled out her notebook again. She pointed to the strategy chart. “That’s it. That’s what was in the chests. It was magic.”
How could she have been so ignorant? Dragons were known to hide caches of magic. She knew that. She should have suspected it.
“So when your girl opened the chest, she unleashed a bunch of magic?” Lucan asked.
Miri nodded.
“Shit. How much?”
Miri shrugged and pointed to the twisted bars on the cage. “Enough.”
Lucan knelt and inspected the grimoires. “But I don’t get it. If he used his magic to bust out, what did he use my grimoires for?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he didn’t use them. Or used them to make a statement.” A breathy gasp escaped her as she realized the worst. “Or—”
Lucan beat his head against one of the bars. “If you’re asking me whether the grimoires have healing spells embedded into them, the answer is yes. Damn it! How hard can it be to find him? He’s a lame, busted up dragon, for heaven’s sake!”
“He doesn’t want to be found,” Miri said. “He’ll change his color. Or his shape. We’ve already underestimated him.”
“Yeah, and with all the television you let him watch, he’s probably an expert in our culture now.”
A knot bulged in Miri’s throat as she realized her mistake. Perhaps letting him watch the news was not a good idea. “I screwed up. I’m sorry.”
“We all screwed up,” Lucan said. “Not just you. Now we have to figure out what the hell we’re going to do, because something tells me he’s not going to let us put him back in a cage.”
Earl’s face twisted into a frown. “Miss, I might be a little fuzzy on the details, but can you help me understand?”
“Okay.”
Earl cleared his throat and spoke softly at first, so much that she strained to hear him. “You’ve got a dragon who used to be a raging sociopath on the loose. He hates humans. He hates elves. I don’t rightly know for a fact, but it’s probably safe to say he’s going to hate our society’s dragons, too. He’s angry, he’s disillus
ioned, and he wants revenge.”
“Yes.”
“Then your only choice, I think, is to kill him.”
“What?” Miri asked. “Earl, how could you be so cruel?”
Lucan put his hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Miri. I wish you had more time to study him. But he’s got to go.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but only sputters came out. “No...I won’t let you kill him!”
“What other choice do we have?” Lucan yelled. “He’d kill you in a heartbeat. Cut the academic crap—this is life or death!”
“Our society is life and death!” Miri yelled back. “We’re going to destroy our planet before he even makes a dent in it.”
They heard footsteps behind them.
It was Gus. He was breathing heavily, and he had a dazed look on his face. His clothes were covered in sweat.
“Gus?” Lucan asked, squinting his eyes. “Where were you? What happened here?”
The man staggered toward them and fell. Earl caught him, holding him up by the arms.
Miri grabbed a chair and Earl set the man down.
“Thanks,” Gus said.
“Glad to see you’re not dead,” Lucan said.
“No. I’m not.”
“What about Orion?” Lucan asked.
“He’s fine.”
Gus’s breathing slowed.
Miri noticed that the man’s skin was pale. His irises were almost shaking. Something about the man troubled her. “Where is Old Dark?” she asked.
“Gone. Far gone.”
“Which way?” Lucan asked. “Did he say anything about where he might have been going?”
Gus stared past Lucan’s shoulder, his gaze fixated on the wall.
“He told me to give you a message, Mr. Grimoire.” The man paused, and then spoke as if he were reciting a message from memory. “He told me to tell you that he has some scores to settle, and it would be best if you stayed out of his way.”
“Fat chance,” Lucan said.
“He told me to tell you that once his scores are settled, you’re next, Mr. Grimoire.”
Lucan gulped.
“He spared my life because I understood his benevolence. When he stared me in the eyes, I understood why I was wrong to work here.”
Miri tilted her head at him. She pulled on Lucan’s suit coat and whispered in his ear. She took a step back and dragged him with her. “Something’s wrong.”
Old Evil (The Last Dragon Lord Book 2) Page 12