He pointed the towel at her. “That’s where you’re wrong. Herein find the clues. You wrote that yourself in the Chronicle of Continuity earlier this evening. Follow your own advice—Seek out passengers. Ignore a dragon’s folly. Find the trail of mist.”
“We both know what ‘passengers’ refers to. What’s the ‘dragon’s folly’ or the ‘trail of mist’?”
“Seeking out the passengers is the first line in the haiku. Perhaps it is the first upon which you should act. It’s possible the others will become obvious or actionable afterward.”
Mara handed the last plate to Ping and then began scrubbing glasses. “I guess it’s back to the list of passengers from the flight. We keep talking about checking out each of them, and now I’m getting fortune cookies from the future telling me to do it. Actually this would be the ideal time for it.”
“Why is that?”
“The weeks around the holidays are the slowest at the shop, so it’s only open half a day, unless something comes up. I can spend the afternoons checking out passengers and see where that leads.”
“You should call Detective Bohannon. He has access to information that would be difficult to obtain, and I’m sure he would be interested in having your insight into those passengers he encounters. I know I would feel more comfortable if you worked with him instead of going it alone.”
Mara paused at the sink. “What do you mean, alone? What are you going to be doing?”
“I’d be glad to help out when possible, but I need to get the bakery repaired and open, or eventually I’ll be homeless.”
“All right, I’ll call the detective.”
Mara let out the water again and dried her hands. Since Ping didn’t know in which cabinet each dish was kept, Mara told him to stack them on the counter on his side of the sink, and she would put them away. She needed a stepladder, so she walked to the pantry next to the back porch door and flipped a light switch on the wall. In the rear of the small room, she found the ladder under three flats of canned goods. While she found shelf space for the cans, she raised her voice, continued talking to Ping, who stood at the sink, drying the last few items.
“I suppose I’ll still have to hunt down some of the passengers on my own. Bohannon probably won’t be interested in the ones who don’t pose a danger or who aren’t involved in crimes. Maybe I can get Sam to go with me when you’re not available. It might be helpful to have a prompter with me, just in case. Don’t you think?”
Once she cleared the ladder, she lifted it and turned to walk out of the closet. Stepping into the kitchen, she said, “You still here?”
Ping lay on his side, writhing, his features melting and rippling. Scales erupted on his cheeks. He gasped as he grabbed the side of his face. Two horns pushed out on his forehead, stretching his skin impossibly, distorting his eye sockets. His jaw jutted forward, pulling the bottom half of his head into a long snout. As he opened his mouth to scream, teeth grew and cut into this stretched lips. Smoke seeped from his distended nostrils.
Mara ran across the room and knelt next to him. “What is happening?”
“Dragon … coming. I can’t stop.”
A long tail curled up in the air behind him and whacked the cabinet doors below the sink. Dishes rattled across the counter.
“Make it stop. Make it stop!” Mara yelled.
Ping looked up with watery eyes and, through gritted teeth, said, “Can’t.”
His eyes turned red.
Mara flung herself at him, grabbing him in an embrace.
They disappeared in a flash of light.
As Diana ran into the kitchen at the initial commotion, a second flash of light filled the room. Blinking away the spots before her eyes, she saw a dented metal cabinet standing directly in front of the sink, one she didn’t recognize.
CHAPTER 8
Screams of agony rang out in the pitch-black darkness. As Mara released Ping, she backed away, leaving him on the cold concrete floor. She knew they were in the warehouse, but she had no sense of direction, didn’t know which way she should go to find the lights by the back door. Keeping her head fixed in the direction where she’d released Ping, she glanced to the left, then to the right. She could make out no detail, not even a scintilla of light. That meant the row of windows along the west side of the building must be behind her. She took a quarter turn to her left. From the corner of her eye, she could see darkness giving way to ambient city light coming through the windows. She now faced the back of the warehouse.
The screams stopped, replaced by a low groan that came from the spot where she had left Ping.
Holding out her arms, she ran for the back of the building, expecting to be incinerated at any second. She kept running until her palms painfully smacked one of the metal roll-down doors at the loading dock, sending an echoing clatter throughout the dark warehouse. The back entrance was to the right, and so were the lights. She inched in that direction, feeling the wall with her hands. After running her fingers over several conduits and pipes, she came to the edge of a metal box. The switch box. Wrapping her fingers around the lever, she pressed upward, but stopped herself. Looking over her shoulder into the darkness, she couldn’t see anything and hoped nothing could see her.
“Ping? Are you okay?” she whispered into the dark, as if she could get the question to him past the dragon. “Oh, this is stupid.”
She slid the switch On.
Ping stood on his knees in the middle of their makeshift classroom, trembling, covered in sweat despite the cold air, his skin a shifting sea of gray and peach, as scales came and went, as horns and bones pressed outward along his skull and torso. He fell forward onto his hands and knees. His limbs thickened and strained against his clothing. Claws erupted from his fingers, and he turned his face to the ceiling and howled. When he lowered his head, his face was gone, replaced by something more akin to a reptile. Its red eyes burned at Mara.
“Just let go,” she said to him.
He exploded into a cloud of swirling gray dust.
The roiling cloud stayed in the center of the warehouse, sending cold gusts against the wall where Mara stood. She wrapped her arms around herself and watched the amorphous storm spread up to the rafters and flatten out, a fine gray powder sculpting itself in midair into the familiar spiny profile flanked by massive wings and trailed by a long thick tail that snaked along the floor. The shifting silhouette solidified into the dragon.
The creature lifted its head almost to the ceiling, rearing back in a manner that Mara recognized.
She raised her hands in front of her. “Nuh-uh, don’t do it.”
The dragon paused.
It stood so still Mara thought she had inadvertently stopped Time. But she could still hear its raspy breathing. Its red eyes glinted, narrowed, as it stared down at her.
“I don’t want to fight you. It just makes a mess, and no one ever seems to win,” she said. She stared back at it, looking for a hint that it understood. If Ping could tell when it senses something dangerous, maybe the dragon could tell when Ping doesn’t. That struck her as a good bit of logic, if not just wishful thinking.
It sat back on its haunches but did not lower its head. Mara could hear the dry shifting of its scales, so large she could see them slide over each other, flexing across its muscles and bunching at its joints. The pose seemed less tense, but the piercing stare, the raised corner of its mouth, exposing just a portion of fang, and the tautness of its snout had the look of a snarl, a mad dog about to attack.
Mara lowered her trembling hands, attempting somehow to diffuse the tension; to what end she wasn’t sure. She wasn’t successful. In the presence of something so large and so clearly predatory, she couldn’t help but stay in a partial crouch, braced for what might happen. Under the dragon’s gaze, she felt like the carved turkey on her mother’s counter.
“I have never thought the deal you struck with Ping could work,” Mara said. “It is impossible for you to remain in this realm. Even if you could stay asleep
until the end of Ping’s life, you would not be able to continue your existence here. The people in this world would never accept you. You would be hunted, until you were slaughtered.”
A low rumble boiled up from the creature’s chest, rattling through its long neck, turning into a growl that slipped from between massive teeth bared when its lips pulled back. No doubt that face was snarling now. A wisp of smoke escaped a nostril.
Mara could feel her own heartbeat at her temple. Her chest felt so tight she had trouble taking in air to speak, but she willed herself to continue. She sensed the dragon understood what she said. Whether it agreed to was another matter.
“Obviously you are not willing or able to keep your side of the bargain. That means not only are you putting yourself in danger but Ping as well. And I’m not willing to stand by and watch him be put down, like some kind of wild animal.”
The dragon shifted forward, now crouching more than sitting. The movement, though subtle, still shifted the air, creating a light draft that washed over Mara. An earthy smell enveloped her.
Mara shook off the intimidation and fixed her gaze on the red eyes. “I’m not sure how, but I’m going to figure out a way to separate you, you and Ping. And once that’s done, I’m going to send you home.”
Large eyelids slid down over the dragon’s eyes, an interminable blink, during which it seemed to comprehend what Mara said and then snapped them back open. The dragon’s head reared upward, striking the rafters. Its wings unfurled, rising upward and creating a vacuum that pulled Mara forward, off balance. She stumbled and fell to her knees, her face just three feet from the dragon’s massive foot. A hard gust of wind flattened her to the cold concrete, sending a shocking chill through her cheek. She pushed up in time to see a talon dig into the floor, effortlessly turning it to gravel, and then disappearing from view.
Rolling over, she saw the dragon leap into the air and pump its wings. Another gust sent her sliding into the wall headfirst. Dazed and staring upward, she saw a burst of fire erupt and flow across the ceiling, followed by plumes of black smoke that nearly blotted out the lights. A metallic crash shook the air, and everything went dark. Clattering and clanging filled the warehouse, as debris fell from the ceiling. The ear-splitting sound of rending metal was the last thing Mara remembered, before she lost consciousness.
* * *
Fifteen minutes later, blinking rapidly, Mara came to, curled up in a fetal position on the concrete floor. Though numbness ran up her side, her eyes burned, and she dug at them with a knuckle, wiping away heavy bits of grit. She rolled onto her back and coughed. Her lungs burned as well. Fire.
Her eyes snapped open, and she saw stars. Almost a quarter of the metal roofing over the warehouse was gone. And so was the dragon, with Ping.
CHAPTER 9
The square glass shade frosted with lilies came into focus as Mara stared at the light fixture in the ceiling above her bed. The edges were still somewhat blurry, when it occurred to her that a high-pitched beeping had awakened her. I feel awfully tired for someone who constantly finds herself regaining consciousness. She rolled over and grabbed the demanding cell phone on her nightstand. Should have turned it off. Holding it in front of her face, she saw SAM on the screen with the Video Chat icon flashing below it. She slid her thumb over the camera at the top of the screen and tapped the icon.
“Dude, you never do a video chat with a girl before she gets out of bed. That’s just common—”
The image of a handsome thirty-something man with light auburn-reddish hair appeared on the screen. Wide-eyed and frightened, he loomed over his trembling phone. “Mara, are you there?”
“Who is this? What are you doing with my brother’s phone?” Mara sat up straight in bed.
“Mara, it’s me, Sam.”
“I’m hanging up. Whoever you are, you might as well get rid of the phone. As soon as I get online, I’m going to activate the kill switch on it.” She threw off her covers, ran to her door and yelled down the stairs. “Mom! Where is Sam? Someone’s got his phone.”
Diana came out of the living room and stood at the foot of the stairs. “He took Hannah to the park for an hour or two, while the weather is still clear. It’s going to get rainy and cloudy later.”
From her phone, the man yelled, “Mara! I’m here in the park with Hannah! You’ve got to help me!”
Mara heard a childish giggle come from the phone’s speaker, then another voice. “Let me feel, Daddy, see if it scratches.” Mara looked down and saw a little hand reach into view of the cell phone screen and rub the man’s cheek.
“Hannah?” Mara said into the phone.
Hannah pushed her head into view and waved. “Hi, Mar-ree! Look at Daddy. Isn’t he pretty?”
Mara’s thumb slipped off the camera on her own phone. “Hannah? Where is your father?”
“He’s right here!” She turned and kissed the man on the cheek.
Diana walked up the stairs and stood beside Mara. “What’s going on?”
Mara gaped at her mother and turned the phone toward her. “Hi, Nana!” Hannah said.
Diana took the phone. “Hey, baby. Where’s your dad?”
“He’s right here.” She pointed at the man, then poked him playfully in the nose. He looked miserable.
Diana stared at the screen for a second, then her eyes widened. “Sam? Oh, my God! What happened?”
“I was talking to Hannah about what her life was like and what kind of father I will be, and, the next thing you know, she puts her hands on my face and says ‘Imagine.’ She told me to pretend being older. Like an idiot, I thought it was some kind of game, so I closed my eyes and played along. When I opened my eyes, I looked like this.”
Diana turned the screen toward Mara. “He turns out pretty good, doesn’t he?”
Mara rolled her eyes. “Very handsome.”
Diana handed the phone back to Mara, then pantomimed taking a picture, clicking a finger in front of her face, and pointed to the phone.
Mara nodded and said, “Can you center yourself and Hannah in the frame? I’m having trouble seeing you on this end.”
A look of frustration passed over Sam’s face, but he complied. Mara tapped her phone, and it made a barely audible shutter-clicking sound.
“Are you taking pictures?” Sam asked, turning red. “This is not some kind of joke here. I’ve lost like twenty years of my life!”
“Did you tell her to put you back the way you were?” Mara asked.
“No, I was just so freaked-out, it didn’t occur to me.”
“Well, you’re her father. Tell her to prompt you to be younger again.”
Hannah rubbed his face again. “I like him better this way. He looks more like a daddy now.”
“Yes, but now I don’t have a little brother, and I really need to have a little brother. Besides, if you don’t, I’m eating all your trick-or-treat candy before you get home,” Mara said. “Fix your dad, and no more prompting.” She tapped the End button.
She noticed she had a text message from Ping. She opened it, and it said simply, “I’m okay.” She shook her head and rubbed a temple, feeling sort of slingshot from one problem to the next.
Her mother noticed her frown and said, “What is it?”
“Text from Ping. Apparently he’s all right now,” Mara said.
“I was about to come up and tell you that his car is gone. He must have stopped by sometime late last night and picked it up. I wonder who gave him a ride out here?”
Mara shook her head. “Mom, the last time I saw him, he was airborne. I think getting down to Oregon City was probably not a big deal.”
A look of concern swept over Diana’s face. “I was under the impression that, when the dragon took over, he wasn’t actually Ping, that it is actually a different consciousness exerting control over his actions.”
“I suppose that’s true. Why?”
“Then how do you explain the dragon being able to come to our house, if it wasn’t Ping doing the flying
?”
“I’m not sure. They share some of each other’s awareness. Why are you being so paranoid about it?”
Her mother shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess, since all those other lizards and creatures had a tendency to follow me home from the bridge, I was concerned the dragon might be homing in on me as well.”
That had not occurred to Mara.
“There has been no hint of that. For all we know, Ping caught a ride with a friend or even grabbed a taxi here. I’ll give him a call later to check on how he’s doing and see what he thinks, but I’m certain we don’t have to worry about the dragon zeroing on you.”
“Good to know. By the way, Ned Pastor called Thursday and wanted to talk to you. I was so wrapped up with Thanksgiving dinner, and you were in that strange trance writing in the little book Hannah brought back, that I forgot to mention it,” Diana said.
Mara yawned and rubbed her eyes. “Ned, the jewelry-metallurgist guy who fixed the Chronicle? Why would he want to talk to me?”
“Apparently he fashioned a replica of the Chronicle and felt bad that he had not gotten your permission first.”
Mara’s brows furrowed. “Why would he make a copy of the Chronicle?”
Diana shrugged. “If you remember, when he returned the original to you, he said he could sense that it had some kind of power. I think it intrigued him, and he wanted to explore the experience further. We metaphysical people do stuff like that, you know.”
“Yeah, I know. Tell Ned to knock himself out. For all I care, he can mass produce Chronicles and sell them on eBay.”
“So you want me to call him back and say you’re okay with it?”
“Sure. Why not? I didn’t design the thing. I don’t own the rights to it.” Mara lay back down on the bed and put the pillow over her face.
“What are your plans for today, since you don’t have to go into work?”
“I’m not waking up until it’s Monday.”
CHAPTER 10
Broken Dragon (The Chronicles of Mara Lantern, Book 3) Page 5