Broken Dragon (The Chronicles of Mara Lantern, Book 3)

by D. W. Moneypenny

  “But, Abby, you are …” Mara stammered.

  “Call me Abby if you will, progenitor, but we both know what I am.”

  “What? What are you?”

  “Suter told you, when you crossed over to Prado’s realm.”

  Mara shook her head. “I don’t believe it. You are not some kind of metaphysical demon. You’re just being influenced by Prado’s consciousness somehow, like when he turned those people into zombies. You cannot be …”

  Abby smiled. “The Aphotis? That’s exactly what I am—a darkling wraith brought to life by the sacrificed consciousness of your friend. Your Abby died so I could fulfill my destiny.”

  “That is a myth, a fable concocted by people who couldn’t grasp the nature of reality. It can’t be true!”

  “Yet here we are, fulfilling the predictions Suter told you about,” Abby said.

  “I don’t believe it.”

  Abby shrugged. “Maybe it’s all a lie, maybe not. I’m sure about one thing—existence won’t be shaped by those who whine the loudest. If you can’t stand up for what you believe in, step aside and make room for those of us who can.”

  Mara glared at her without responding, her jaw flexing as she gritted her teeth, then she said, “I guess you’re right. I should stop whining and do something.”

  She held out her right hand, displaying the copper medallion on her upturned palm.

  It took a moment before Abby recognized it. She looked up at Mara and said, “A counterfeit Chronicle? Really?”

  Mara smiled and said, “Watch.”

  The medallion levitated above her palm and then spun and gyrated, quickly turning into a blur that took on a blue hue. In a flash of light, it transformed into a ball of luminescent swirling mercury and continued to spin above Mara’s hand. It matched the one above Abby’s perfectly.

  Abby looked doubtful and said, “I’m not sure what advantage that gives you. At best, we are at a stalemate. At worst, you’re going to obliterate a lot of realms trying to get at me. Are we going to turn this bubble into a shooting gallery? I can match you shot for shot.”

  “Don’t worry. You’re not my target. You see, this Chronicle was made in this realm, while yours wasn’t,” Mara said and hurled her blue orb directly at the one hovering over Abby’s hand. When they collided, everything exploded into crystal shards of brilliant blue that cascaded into darkness … and silence.

  CHAPTER 57

  When Mara came to, she felt a burning in her throat and someone shaking her. She opened her eyes to what at first she thought was fog, but the sudden stinging sensation awoke her to the realization that it was smoke.

  Crouched next to her, Sam pushed on her shoulder and said, “Are you okay? I need you to get up and help me. Mom and Hannah are stuck on the roof of the front porch.”

  She felt the cold ground and damp grass on her hands as she pushed herself into a sitting position. A wave of light-headedness swept over her, as if all the blood had drained from her head. “What happened?” she asked.

  She flickered several times, and Sam gave her an odd look. Standing up, he said, “Okay, I can see smoke passing through you. Stay right here, and I’ll figure out a way to drag the big ladder from the side of the house to the front porch.”

  When he turned to leave, Mara reached out and grabbed his pants leg. “What do you need the ladder for?” she asked.

  “The house is on fire! Now let me go, so I can help them.”

  Her whole body stiffened. “Oh, the dragon!” She scrambled up from the ground and wavered in place for a second. She held out her arms and, finding them opaque, said, “All right, I’m good. Lead the way.”

  Sam looked at her doubtfully but turned and jogged around the corner of the house. There he stood in the center of the driveway, as Mara caught up. Pointing to the ladder that hung from two heavy rusted hooks jutting from the siding, he said, “You grab that end, and I’ll get this one.”

  Mara could feel heat radiating from the wall. Before wrapping her hands around the ladder, she reached out and touched the siding, jerking back her hand. Looking up toward the roofline, she saw smoke waft out from the walls and cling to it, but no flames had burst through. However, there was an orange light dancing somewhere above the eaves. She lifted the ladder in unison with her brother, tucked it under her arm and followed him past her mother’s car into the front yard.

  When they arrived, Sam lowered his end of the ladder to the ground at the side of the porch, ran back to Mara and said, “Okay, I need you to steady the foot of the ladder, while I lift this one.”

  “Are you sure you can lift it?” Mara asked.

  “Yes, if you keep it from sliding,” he said.

  She did as he asked, and Sam lifted the opposite end over his head. He pushed against each rung in sequence while walking forward until the ladder stood perpendicular to the ground. Mara twisted it slightly, letting it fall into place along the porch roof with a thud. She stepped up on the bottom rung. The ladder suddenly rattled and bounced against the wood framing of the house, and Mara felt it sway. She looked blankly at her brother who stood with his hands held out for balance.

  “Felt like a dragon landing to me,” he said.

  Getting a firm grip on the rung in front of her, Mara leaned back and glanced into the front yard. There it stood on the front lawn, backlit by the streetlight across the road, its wings spread nearly the width of the house and its head straining up to the night sky. It roared and stepped forward, sending another tremble through the ground. Its gaze tracked something moving at the front of the house.

  “I’m going to run around to the other side of the house and see if I can distract him. You get up there and get Mom and Hannah,” Sam said.

  “He’ll burn you alive before you get across the lawn,” Mara said.

  “I’m going around back. The other side of the house was burning pretty badly, but I think I can get around. I’ll cut across the neighbor’s yard, if I have to. Maybe I can get close enough to prompt him.” He turned and left before Mara could respond.

  She leaned back again to see what the dragon was doing. It continued to glare at the house. From this angle, the creature couldn’t see her, but, as soon as she poked her head up over the edge of the roof, she’d probably be visible.

  A loud crash from within the house sent another rumble through the ladder, prompting Mara to scramble quickly up the ladder. As she cleared the porch’s roofline, she stepped out onto dewy, slick shingles and grabbed the edge of the dormer closest to her. Two dormers extended from the second story of the house, and Mara could see her mother against the other one on the far side of the roof. Diana hugged Hannah to her chest with her left arm and held onto the frame of an open window with the other. She stared out over the front lawn transfixed, a look of terror on her face. Following her mother’s gaze, Mara saw the dragon lumber toward the house, angling toward her mother’s side of the porch.

  Mara ran toward them, eliciting an earsplitting scream from the dragon. It flapped its wings and glided the short distance across the yard. Its landing at the threshold of the house sent a shudder through the entire structure, causing something out back to collapse with a loud crack and whooshing sound. A plume of cinders and ash shot into the air over the house. Embers sprinkled the front slope of the roof and began to smolder. Mara stumbled halfway across the roof. Thinking the porch was collapsing beneath her, she paused and looked down at her feet.

  “Mara! Behind you!” Diana screamed.

  The dragon’s head appeared over the edge of the roof and swung directly at her, its mouth opened and teeth exposed. It snapped once at the air a few feet away and continued coming at her. Mara held out a hand, sending a bolt of lightning into its snout. The creature howled and shook its head, wildly spitting fire across the front the house, setting the wall and dormer closest to the ladder ablaze. Staggering against the slope of the roof, Mara climbed to where her mother stood and leaned into the corner of the dormer.

  Smoke pou
red from the window, engulfing Diana and Hannah. Following the sounds of Hannah’s coughing, Mara stepped into the haze and slid under the arm her mother used to hold onto the window frame.

  “Let’s go. We’re going to make a run for the ladder,” Mara said.

  Diana nodded and stepped from the billowing smoke and came eye to eye with the dragon. Its head jutted backward, as if surprised, but its lips rippled apart, revealing its front fangs. It gurgled a wet, menacing growl. A damp, fetid breath wafted over them, as Mara cleared the smoke. She stopped in place, startled. Raising her hand, defensively, she paused as she realized the dragon glared, not at her and not at her mother, but at Hannah.

  A loud metallic twang rang out from behind the dragon, and its massive head swung away from the porch roof.

  “Get away from them!” Sam yelled. He stood next to the dragon’s back leg, brandishing a shovel over his shoulder. He swung it like a bat, sending the edge of its spade into the hind flanks of the creature.

  “Daddy!” Hannah called down to him, waving.

  Mara pushed her mother forward across the roof. “Let’s go. We’ve got to get down from here, before it comes back.”

  When they reached the ladder, Mara turned her back to them and said, “Mom, let me take her down piggyback. Put her on my back, and you go down first.”

  Hannah wrapped her arms around Mara’s neck, clamped onto her back, leaned forward to Mara’s ear and said, “We have to get down and help my daddy fight the dragon.”

  “That’s what we’re doing, sweetie, but why don’t you let the grown-ups fight the dragon, okay?” Mara waited for her mother to step onto the ground, looked over her shoulder for any signs of the dragon and, finding none, stepped onto the ladder. When she got to the bottom, she crouched and Hannah slid off her back.

  Without pausing, the little girl ran for the front yard and yelled, “We’re coming, Daddy!”

  As Mara chased after her niece, she yelled over her shoulder to her mother, “Go next door and call the fire department!”

  Mara cleared the bushes at the corner of the porch and almost toppled over Hannah, who stood ramrod straight, looking out at the front lawn. The dragon’s body stood facing the house, but its neck craned back over its torso, looking toward the far side of the yard.

  Suddenly the shrubs that marked their property line ignited, and they saw Sam’s silhouette as he swung the shovel, landing a blow on the dragon’s tail, prompting a loud roar and another burst of flame from the opposite end of the creature.

  “Look here, you overgrown lizard! Look me in the face!” Sam screamed, lifting the shovel over his shoulder for another swing.

  The dragon’s haunches lifted and its tail curled up into the air, coiling on the opposite side of its body from where Sam stood. It snapped in the air and whipped around its back haunches in a wide arc.

  Mara yelled, “Sam, get out of there!”

  She held up her hands, willed it to stop, to freeze. Instead everything went black.

  In the darkness, Mara heard Hannah. “Mar-ree! Come back! Mar-ree!”

  Mara blinked, and she was back, standing in the front yard. A wave of nausea passed through her, and she fell to her knees. Hannah pointed across the yard. “You made it slow.”

  The dragon’s tail now crept up behind Sam like impending doom, slow but inevitable.

  Mara screamed and pointed with a flickering hand, “Behind you!”

  Sam caught her eye and spun around. He threw aside the shovel and dove into the air as the barrel-size tail approached. It struck his feet and sent him tumbling, as it swept by. Landing on his shoulder, he crumpled into a heap in the grass a few feet away.

  The dragon roared and turned toward him, sending tremors through the ground.

  “Daddy!” Hannah screamed and ran into the front yard.

  Mara tried to go after her, but light-headedness sent her back to her knees. She held out her hands and could see the ground through them.

  “Hannah, come back! What the hell are you doing?” Mara yelled.

  The dragon’s head snapped around. Its glowing red eyes locked onto the little girl.

  Halfway across the yard, Hannah froze.

  Thermal drafts, whipped up by the flames consuming the house, carrying smoke and glowing bits of ash, swirled around her as she stared up at the creature. Its head lifted slightly as it glared down its snout, rearing back for a better look, as if it were nearsighted. One lip curled in a sneer. Then it snorted.

  Hannah lifted a shaking finger, pointing accusatorily, and said through tears making tracks down her sooty cheeks, “Don’t you hurt my daddy!”

  The dragon raised its wings and cocked its head forward, like a bird about to pick at a worm in the ground. Lowering its head toward Hannah, the dragon opened its mouth.

  Mara sprang to her feet and ran toward them. She held out her flickering hands, and nothing happened. Time didn’t stop. No lightning shot forth. No part of the dragon fell away in a shower of pixels. Nothing.

  Hannah crouched, holding her hands above her head, as the dragon descended upon her.

  Still running, Mara veered away from Hannah and headed toward the center of the creature’s torso. Right before slamming into its flanks, she turned to the left, now running parallel to the dragon’s body, approaching Hannah from the same direction. Leaning forward to gain speed, Mara gritted her teeth, strained against the weariness dragging on her legs and dashed past the dragon’s front legs. Bending down and extending her arms while still running, she scooped up Hannah and threw her over a shoulder in one smooth motion without stopping.

  Dangling precipitously over Mara’s shoulder, Hannah arched her back so she could look behind them, as her aunt continued to run. The dragon’s maw snapped inches from her face and she squealed, “Run, Mar-ree! It’s coming!”

  Taking a step forward and sending a tremor through the ground, the dragon jutted its head after them. As its thorny chin came within inches of Mara’s head, Hannah reached up and swatted at it, her finger grazing a bony quill on its chin.

  The dragon exploded in a burst of blue light that flung Mara and Hannah into the air, careening toward the front of the burning house.

  CHAPTER 58

  Once again the sense of someone shaking her brought Mara back to consciousness, only this time the hand was smaller and the shaking was a little gentler. Mara’s eyes fluttered open, and she felt something hard poking into the back of her neck. Slowly pushing herself up, she looked back and realized she was holding onto the bottom step leading up to the front porch of the house. While the front wall of the house behind the porch remained intact, orange and yellow light danced from the windows. At Mara’s side, Hannah sat on the ground, pointing up in the air.

  “It looks like bumblebees,” she said.

  Mara blinked, trying to clear her eyes. After attempting to wipe them with the sooty back of her hand, then thinking better of it, she said, “I think it’s just ashes and embers floating around.”

  “Nuh-uh, look how it moves in circles,” Hannah said.

  Mara looked again and recognized the pattern, the movement of dust in the air as it swirled into a vertical column and condensed. Soon it darkened and shifted into a familiar silhouette. It was Ping undispersing himself.

  After going through that strange phase where he appeared to be an immobile mannequin, suddenly he stepped forward, holding out his hand and asked, “Do you think you can stand?”

  “I think so.” She grabbed his hand and took so long establishing her balance that he reached out and grasped her elbow. Swiping hair from the side of her face, she said, “Sorry, it’s been a long day. I’m still not even sure what just happened.”

  “The dragon ’sploded,” Hannah said.

  Stepping from the thick haze that hung over the yard, his hair sticking up in a flattened fan pattern on the left side of his head, Sam said, “Is that what happened? I was just getting up on my feet, when everything went blue, and I got slammed again.” He looked at h
is sister and asked, “What did you do? There’s a massive crater where the front yard used to be.”

  “Daddy!” Hannah ran to her father. He crouched down beside her and gave her a hug. She tried unsuccessfully to press down his hair.

  Mara shook her head. “I didn’t do anything. I think I was tapped out, metaphysicalwise. Nothing I tried worked. After this suicidal munchkin decided to make a run for the dragon, all I could do was chase after her, and I could barely do that. I’m not sure what caused the explosion.” She turned to Ping. “Was it your doing?”

  “Not at all, but I suspect I know what happened,” he said.

  In the distance they heard sirens approaching, and, from the end of the driveway, Diana called to them, “Do you think the four of you could find a better place to stand than next to the burning house? Come over here, so you won’t be in the way when the firemen get here.”

  Ping nodded. “Good point.”

  As they walked up the driveway, Diana’s eyes tracked Ping and said, “Nice to see you back to your old self, Mr. Ping.”

  Mara stepped in front of him and said, “Mom, I know you’re a little POed about the house, but it really wasn’t his fault.”

  Ping raised a hand and said, “No, Mara, she’s got every right to be angry. I’ve made a complete mess out of this entire episode, and, while I can’t undo the damage to your home, I can promise you that the dragon will never again be a threat to you or your children.”

  “How can you say that?” Diana asked.

  “The dragon is gone.”

  “What?” Mara asked, turning to face him. “How can the dragon be gone?”

  Smiling, he reached down and lifted Hannah’s chin with two fingers. “Because the dragon was touched by its counterpart in this realm. That is why the dragon exploded.”

  Sam pulled Hannah closer and said, “I don’t understand.”

  “In this realm, Hannah is a little girl. But in some other realm, she’s a dragon, the dragon that shared my existence for a time.”

  Understanding swept over Mara’s face. “That’s why she showed up in the crystal when I tried to separate the two of you.” Pointing at Sam, she said, “It’s probably why your Mara brought the dragon back to your mom in the first place—it was not only a meaningful symbol for her cult, it was her own blood, her own granddaughter.”