Old Evil (The Last Dragon Lord Book 2)

by Michael La Ronn

  Dark nodded. “This artificial image of you is not the strangest thing I have seen in this unusual city.”

  Frog, who was watching the entire exchange with a smile, croaked. A burp exploded from his mouth, sending him into the air. Then he settled back into a clump of wet grass as a dragonfly flew over his head. “Awfully fittin’ to see you two reunited. Never thought it would happen. Ain’t ya got more to say?”

  The happiness in Frog’s voice assured Dark that what he was seeing must have been real. Frog could be an absolute imbecile, but when it came to matters of technology, he seemed to know what he was talking about.

  Still, Dark couldn’t help but be cautious.

  “Norwyn, tell me—how long was I asleep?”

  “One thousand years.”

  “What happened to me?”

  “Do you not remember?”

  “I want the truth. I have heard a story from an elven woman that disturbs me deeply. I want to hear it from a dragon.”

  “Fenroot and Moss betrayed you,” Norwyn said. “The curse they cast on you should have killed you, but it wasn’t strong enough to overcome the magic already in your body. I tried to save you. I fought them off, but they were relentless. First they killed your parents. Then they enlisted your enemies to come after you—and you had more foes than you could imagine. I couldn’t reverse the curse, and for that, I’m sorry. Frog’s father and I had no choice but to put you in your tomb and seal it away. I assumed you would die. Maybe you would have if Lucan Grimoire didn’t find you.”

  “Perhaps it would have been better if I had died,” Dark said. “This is terrible, just terrible!”

  “I checked on you every few years,” Norwyn said. “I buried you and your parents and encased the tomb with a dislocation spell.”

  “Your loyalty is not in question,” Dark said. “And it will be rewarded. It is Moss and Fenroot I want.”

  “And you will have them…my lord,” Norwyn said, bowing.

  Dark smiled widely and stood upright. “Now those are words I welcome after a thousand-year slumber. Oh, how I have longed to hear them!”

  Norwyn continued his bow. Dark held up a claw to signal that he accepted it, and Norwyn raised his head. Then Dark flashed a hard look at Frog. “Do you hear his deference?”

  Frog lowered his head and did not respond.

  Yes! Frog knew was in the wrong for not calling him my lord. Dark had quite a bit of training to do with Frog, still. He didn’t blame the river dragon for the error, but he was going to correct it.

  “Future or not, custom changes or not, you would do well to remember my sovereignty, boy,” Dark said.

  “I told ya this is a different time. Call yourself whatcha want to call yourself. You’re’n’t going to hear it but from the lips of a few.”

  “We’ll see about that.” Dark looked back at Norwyn, but the dragon’s blank expression had not changed. In fact, Norwyn had an air of concern.

  “If I may, a few words of caution, my lord,” Norwyn said.

  Dark closed his eyes wistfully. “You are going to tell me that I must be careful because this uncivilized society that I am trapped in has laws, are you not?”

  “How badly do you want to die?” Norwyn asked.

  “Answer my question.”

  “In this society, sometimes the proper answer to a question is a question.”

  “I am the dragon lord!” Dark screamed.

  “You’ve lost your respect,” Norwyn said. “And I say that objectively. I can help you navigate this new world. But I need to know how badly you want to die.”

  “I won’t rest until I have my revenge.”

  “And then?”

  It was an interesting question, one that Dark hadn’t thought of. Was he so blind with revenge that he couldn’t see clearly? Thank the heavens for Norwyn.

  Dark sighed. “I don’t know. I haven’t given it any thought.”

  “Come with me,” Norwyn said. The white orb beeped and his image disappeared. The orb lifted higher into the sky.

  “Where will we go?” Dark asked.

  “There’s something you should see. It will put everything you’ve seen so far into perspective.”

  Frog spread his wings and jumped into the air. “If you’re thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’—”

  “Old friend,” Norwyn said, “It’s time you see what has happened to the aquifer.”

  II

  Miri almost fell out of Lucan’s limo when it pulled to a stop.

  Tears filled her eyes and she couldn’t wipe them all away. The air was filled with smoke and dust and it was hard to see clearly.

  “It can’t be. It just can’t—”

  She didn’t want to believe it. She didn’t want to accept that Magic Hope University was gone.

  She tripped on something, but a hand caught her.

  It was Earl. He wore his scarf around his nose to keep out the smoke. His voice was muffled behind the dark scarf, and the dust gathered on the lacquered brim of his chauffeur cap. His strong, sturdy grip comforted her.

  “You okay, Miss?” he asked.

  Miri coughed. Earl handed her a bottle of water. Its crystalline plastic coating was a bright spot in the dust, and she reached for it.

  “I didn’t think it was this bad,” she said after taking a sip. The cool water refreshed her. “I didn’t know it was completely gone.”

  A rough wind blew through the area. She shielded her eyes as the dust and smoke cleared. When she looked up, Lucan was standing a few feet away. One arm hung in a blue sling; in the other he held a glinting grimoire. A whirlwind danced around him for a moment before vanishing.

  “This place is a mess,” Lucan said. “Good thing the university didn’t endorse me in the election after all.”

  “Shut up, Lucan,” said a female voice. Celesse stepped out of the limo. She was wearing Lucan’s coat over her white, leather dress. Her red hair hung down to her shoulder and she rubbed her hands together to get warm. She looked around and shook her head. “I’m sorry, Miri.”

  Miri was finally able to see the damage for herself. In the place where buildings should have stood were scattered towers of wood, brick and glass. The only things that was left standing were the street lamps; they shone, bright tungsten hotspots in the night, with the purple and yellow school flags dangling from them. The trees wore the dust like badly knitted sweaters, and the wind shook layers of dust back into the air. All around, people were digging through the buildings, crying and distraught. Miri recognized many of them as her fellow faculty.

  Miri stepped forward and put her hand on her heart. “Dean Rosehill...”

  For this to have happened, the dean would have had to have killed himself. He would have had to give up on living. A difficult thing for a dragon in Abstraction to do, but not impossible.

  There had been, perhaps, in most recent recorded history, three or four incidents of dragons giving up their wills to live. It was extremely rare for a dragon to sidestep their pride.

  Whether she liked it or not, Miri was going to be a part of history. She would be forever tied to Dean Rosehill. The Crafter dragon, with his austere air and horn-rimmed glasses, would always be remembered for his enthusiasm. It might one day be written the history books that ‘hiring Miri Charmwell was the first choice that led to his doom.’

  That disheartened her.

  As she walked through the rubble, she kept her bearings. The university was in shambles all around her and yet she still knew her way around. She passed the cafeteria—what had been a state-of-the-art glass building—the Academy of Economics, the Academy of Magical Construction, the row of whispering maples…

  And then she stopped in front of a pile of rubble that looked all too familiar. Three stories of history reduced to one.

  The Academy of History and Magical Sciences. The closest thing she could call home aside from her apartment. The place where she spent sixty hours a week, long nights, endless energy and endless joy.

  She
had an office. She had a desk. She had pictures of her students. Priceless books.

  It was all gone.

  All nine years that she gave to the university, between the debris. Soon it would all be hauled away, and all that would be left of her time here would be a grassy space in the middle of the thriving Half Eight.

  She hated that she felt relieved.

  Earl put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Miss. It was a bad idea to stop here. I shouldn’t have recommended it.”

  Miri rested her head on Earl’s hand. “No. As hard as it is, I…needed to see this.”

  Lucan and Celesse joined them.

  “So the dragon just cleaned his own clock, eh?” Lucan said. “Early reports said he evacuated the place. Amazing that no one was hurt.”

  “It could have been so much worse,” Celesse said.

  “Is it bad that I feel relieved?” Miri asked.

  Lucan cocked an eyebrow. “Hated the old salt that much?”

  “If I hadn’t met you, Lucan, I would have been fired or I would have left this place on a stretcher. I had no idea what was going on with my life. I was just watching it all unfold. And I knew a crash was coming but I didn’t want to do anything to stop it.”

  “You can thank me when we’re done with the plan,” Lucan said. His eyes went to the remains of the Academy of History and Magical Sciences. “God. This place is fucking depressing.”

  “I think we should go,” Miri said. “It’s not productive for me to stay here anymore. Thanks for letting me visit.”

  A night wind blew, whipping her hair in front of her face. She tucked a strand behind an ear and pulled her peacoat closer to her body. She led the way to the limo, and Lucan, Celesse and Earl walked behind her quietly.

  “So how does Magic Hope University fit into the plan?” she asked.

  “The university endorsed Governor Grimoire,” Celesse said. “And it was complicit in the cover up, through you.”

  A shiver passed through Miri at that statement. “Great.”

  “Remember, Miri,” Lucan said. “We discussed this. You were protecting a secret that you believed was for the greater good. You will reflect upon the university, but you will be judged by your own actions.”

  “Which means I’m going to jail.” Miri shook her head, trembling slightly. The thought of spending the rest of her life in jail frightened her, and she was amazed that it was the first time it crossed her mind.

  “They won’t prosecute you,” Lucan said. “Your knowledge is too valuable. You’re the only Old Dark expert in the world. If anything, they’ll try to cut a deal with you. Trust us. It’s going to be fine. I’m the one who’s got the explaining to do.”

  Celesse elbowed Lucan. “Stop talking.”

  Ahead, the limo idled in the parking lot, surrounded by black cars.

  An elven man dressed in a black suit, sunglasses and long black hair stepped forward.

  Lucan clapped and said “It’s about time. I was wondering when you guys were going to stop twiddling around and find us.”

  The elven man’s face remained unchanged. “All of you, come with us. You’re under investigation.”

  A white orb flew out of a nearby tree and danced over them, taking photographs. A red light blinked on the underside of the orb’s body, indicating that it was filming the encounter.

  Miri had seen the orb before, and it made her nervous. It had followed them to the factory after Old Dark escaped.

  “Your uncle’s dragon?” she whispered to Lucan.

  Lucan nodded without saying anything. “Remember the plan.”

  He approached the men with his one hand up. “We’ll cooperate, folks. Take us to your fearless leader.”

  Several car doors opened and men in suits beckoned them to enter.

  “One car is fine,” Lucan said.

  The elven man grabbed Lucan by the collar. “You’ll ride separately. You folks have done enough conspiring.”

  He shoved Lucan in the back of a black sedan. He flashed a look at Miri that told her to be tough.

  The elven man took Miri gently and put his hand on the small of her back. Her heart raced. As he helped her into another black sedan, she glanced back to see Earl and Celesse both entering separate sedans. Then, white orbs appeared out of nowhere and entered the cars, recording everything. A white orb entered her car and hovered in front of her unflinchingly. She swallowed hard.

  The door slammed and she held on tight as the car sped off.

  Want to read the rest? Visit www.michaellaronn.com/thelastdragonlord for links and more information.

  About the Author

  Science fiction and fantasy on the wild side!

  Michael La Ronn is the author of many science fiction and fantasy novels including The Last Dragon Lord, Android X, and Eaten series.

  In 2012, a life-threatening illness made him realize that storytelling was his #1 passion. He’s devoted his life to writing ever since, making up whatever story makes him fall out of his chair laughing the hardest. Every day.

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  Also by Michael La Ronn

  Modern Necromancy Series

  Death Marked

  Death Bound

  Death Crowned

  Android X Series

  Android Paradox

  Android Deception

  Android Winter

  Eaten Series

  Season 1

  Season 2

  Season 3

  Nutrizeen

  Sword Bear Chronicles Series

  Theo and the Festival of Shadows

  Theo and the Solstice of Dreams

  Decision Select Novels Series

  How to Be Bad

  Short Story Collections

  Reconciled People

  LEARN MORE:

  www.michaellaronn.com/books