Stone Dragon (The Painter Mage Book 5)

by D. K. Holmberg

  “Not sure we have much time. Do you think you could do anything if I distract it?”’

  “Ollie, you’re going to have to keep a creature that destroyed one of my figurines like it was nothing and laughed off your magi magic distracted. Are you sure you can do that by yourself?”

  “Not by himself,” Jakes said, coming up behind me.

  I turned to him and met his eyes. There was a certain tension in him I hadn’t seen before. What had he gone through in the time we’d been away? What had the Wasdig done that had stressed him like this?

  “Where’s Nik?”

  “Jasper is watching him. I thought you could use my help.”

  I hope Jasper knew he was getting into with little Nik. Little bastard could be brutal, even at his size. Power surged, this time coming toward the plant. I recognized something about it, and realize that it came from Nik.

  Now all those I brought to help were doing something. How long before we really pressed off the Wasdig?

  “You’ll help with this? We don’t even know what this big bastard wants,” I said.

  “Your father,” Jakes began. “He didn’t work alone. My father helped. I think I’ve been too afraid to get involved. This has risked you—and the city—unnecessarily. You’ve done nothing more than try to help. Now it is my turn to return the favor.”

  I glanced at Devan. “Maybe the two of us can keep the big nasty away long enough for you to finish your other creation.”

  “I’ll need about ten minutes. If it works, it might be enough to contain him, especially with the two Arcanus Masters and our little friend.”

  The steady thumping of power suddenly stopped. I turned to Jakes. “Got ten minutes?” I asked him.

  He nodded.

  Devan started toward the plant, leaving Jakes and I standing facing each other. He stared into the night, his shifter vision better than anything I could manage. He sniffed at the air, tilting his head as if he were about to shift and then catching himself.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “This creature. You said it was powerful?”

  “Pretty damn powerful. It shook off Devan’s little friends. And when I managed to use a magi pattern—” Jakes arched his brow at that “—it knocked him down but didn’t do anything more than that. I’m not sure I could even hurt this guy.”

  “Then how do you propose to stop it?”

  I smiled. “Something I saw when we were in Arcanus. Now, I don’t know if it will work, but I think we need to try.”

  Jake grunted. “You can expel this creature from Conlin?”

  “Probably not,” I admitted. “My goal is to get him to leave on his own.”

  “What Devan will do can convince it of that?”

  I hoped like hell it would.

  We started away from the plant. I wanted the creature as far from Devan as possible. She could move serious magic, and she had whatever ability it was let her animate those figurines, but I didn’t want her in any danger. If the Wasdig tried to go after the plant again, then I’d need to get some space between us and it. That meant standing out in the open of the parking lot. It was as fine a place as any to make a stand, I supposed.

  Jakes loped along next to me. There was the vague sense of power coming from him, but not much more than that. Shifters didn’t put off the sense of much magic, in spite of how powerful they could be.

  “Where did you see it last?” I asked.

  “You’ll know,” Jakes answered.

  And he was right. As soon as we neared the middle of the darkened parking lot, I sensed the distinct draw of the Wasdig. It stood in shadows, the thumping of its staff reverberating through me, catching me with waves of its magic energy.

  Jakes glanced over. “Ready, Morris?”

  Ah, shit. No time like now to go chasing after some hulking monster in the dark, a creature of impossible power, and likely to destroy me regardless of whatever I might try.

  “Why not?” I answered.

  14

  The Wasdig turned toward me. I didn’t give it the chance to say anything and began trailing ink around it, weaving it a tight, spiraling arcane pattern meant for containment. I went with black. I needed both power and ease of drawing, making it, so I didn’t have to strain as I worked with the pattern. If this had any hope of success, I would need to do it quickly.

  The damn thing only watched. It made a point of watching both Jakes and I out of the corner of its eyes, though I couldn’t tell if it was going to attack. The staff came to rest on the ground. Power eased away. And then its blunted horns started to glow.

  “Jakes!”

  He shifted as I called his name. A massive bloom of golden color swirled from him. Surprisingly, I noted a pattern buried within it, something that reminded me of what Nik had been teaching. Jakes’s power surged and joined with my containment pattern, flashing even more brightly.

  I infused power into it, needing to hold it into place. As the barrier coalesced, the Wasdig lifted its staff again.

  It came down with a sharp smack, striking the cement.

  Everything felt like it exploded. Power surged from the Wasdig, striking my barrier. The ground heaved, though I couldn’t tell if it was real or imagined. And my head felt like it shattered.

  I expected the Wasdig to say something—anything at this point—but it didn’t. It raised its staff again and started to bring it down. If it struck the ground and I didn’t have any protection in place, I didn’t have much hope for surviving.

  With a flutter of my hands, I worked the pattern Nik had shown. Like in Arcanus, I added a flourish that was all my own, twisting it and augmenting it with an arcane pattern. The power from it built rapidly and exploded away from me before the Wasdig’s staff could hit the ground again.

  I’d targeted my pattern.

  Now, I wasn’t sure it would work. When I’d tried to do it before, I hadn’t been all that successful, but after all the time I’d spent on the other side of the Threshold, I’d learned to use a bow. Forced to, actually. That had given me a sense of distance and aim that nothing else would have managed. I didn’t want to hit the Wasdig with this pattern, but his staff.

  The force struck the top of the staff, sending it spiraling away from him. The creature twisted and cast an awful stare at me, the twinkling stars in his eyes seeming to shift and move as it focused on me. Jakes lunged for the staff and dragged it away.

  I thought that might be enough to slow the Wasdig. I was wrong.

  Power built from its horns. From the horns themselves.

  What the hell?

  It was quicker than anything I could do. I had no defense, nothing that would keep me safe, and Jakes had disappeared into the night with the staff. I didn’t blame him. He wanted to keep Conlin safe as much as I did and having the Wasdig here, and with full control of his staff, did nothing to keep the city safe.

  With a flick of ink, I twisted a circle around me, knowing it would be woefully inadequate, but not knowing anything else I could do. The Wasdig approached my circle and stopped right in front of me. His hot breath heaved over me as he stood, leaning forward and considering me as if I might consider an interesting insect. I’d never felt so much like a roach as I did right then. My magic might have the potential for power, and with what Nik had been teaching me, I might have the potential for much more than I had ever imagined, but it was nothing compared to this creature. Even the most powerful being I’d ever known—the Trelking—would not be anything compared to the Wasdig.

  And that’s when I knew what he was.

  “Gods,” I swore. “You’re one of them.”

  He smiled at me. I was sure of it. The horns glowed even more brightly. Power began building, more than anything I’d ever felt before. That was when I knew it would be over soon. The Wasdig, one of the ancient creatures known as gods on the other side of the Threshold, would be the reason I died.

  I considered doing any number of things right then. I could use my Death Pattern. Devan
wasn’t there to stop me this time, and it might actually buy Jakes and Devan time to get away, though if the Wasdig truly was one of the gods, there wasn’t anything they could do or anyplace they could go. I could attempt another magical pattern, but I’d already seen how ineffective they were against the Wasdig. That left me only one option.

  Lowering my shoulder, I started to run at it.

  A loud, squealing sound split the night, and I stopped. The Wasdig even glanced up with something more like curiosity than actual fear.

  Massive wings blotted out what light drifted from the moon. The painful squealing came again, tearing at the night.

  Devan’s creation. Holy hell, it might actually work.

  The dragon swooped toward the Wasdig. If my plan actually worked as I hoped, the dragon would be able to scoop the Wasdig up. Dragons, at least to hear Devan tell of it, were immune to all kinds of magic. I didn’t know if that applied with Devan’s creations or not but seeing as how the trolls and fox snakes seemed to have much the same talents as they did on the other side of the Threshold, it seemed reasonable to try.

  The Wasdig glanced back at me. I had hoped for emotion out of it. Fear maybe, or interest, instead all I saw was annoyance.

  He pointed one long finger at the sky as if aiming at the dragon. Was he going to destroy it as he’d destroyed the snake fox?

  “No!” I shouted at him, recovered enough to get moving again. Since Devan didn’t know what would happen were the creatures destroyed, I didn’t want to be the reason she learned.

  The Wasdig frowned at me, his horns glowing again. Then a surge of light flickered from his finger, striking the dragon.

  I held my breath, fearing an explosion. Instead, the dragon shimmered and then began to shrink as it flew toward the Wasdig, finally coming to perch on that outstretched finger. As it did, it looked something like a hawk, but with horns and scales and steam coming from its mouth in a way no hawk ever had.

  “Well, shit,” I breathed.

  Devan raced out of the plant, skidding to a stop next to me. Sweat created a sheen on her brow, and she stared at her dragon—now the Wasdig’s dragon—while taking steadying breaths. “Ollie, how is it the Wasdig could do that?” she asked without turning to look at me.

  “Because he’s one of the gods,” I said.

  Devan turned to me. “Why would one of the gods come here for you?”

  I had no answer, nothing that would explain why a creature as powerful as the Wasdig would cross the Threshold, seemingly for me. There was no reason for it, nothing that made sense, at least. Unless this was all part of the Zdrn.

  It was a test, wasn’t it?

  But why would the gods need to test the Protariat?

  The Wasdig whispered something to the dragon, and it streaked off, racing in the direction that Jakes had gone. There came a loud shriek, something louder than the size of the dragon should allow.

  Devan and I simply stood where we were, uncertain what else we could do. If we ran, the Wasdig would easily catch us. If we attacked, there wasn’t anything I could do that would give us a chance against him. And Devan’s offensive magic consisted mostly of the figurines, and we’d seen what the Wasdig could do with them.

  Then the dragon shrieked again, this time coming closer. I looked up to see it circling toward us somehow carrying the Wasdig’s staff.

  I stared into the darkness, worried about Jakes. If the dragon were truly immune to magic, then Jakes would only have had his massive size to use against it. Considering the dragon was the one returning, that apparently hadn’t been enough.

  “Well, shit,” I breathed to Devan.

  The Wasdig slammed the staff into the ground. Energy hammered over us, coming steadily as the Wasdig raised the staff again, bringing it to the ground once more. Reflexively, I checked my stores of ink. The satchels of red and black ink were mostly intact. The charms were depleted, but we hadn’t time to head back to my house to gather more. I could take the time to refill them, but I didn’t think it would even matter.

  “Any of your other friends able to help?” I asked Devan.

  She touched her pocket. “They’re not ready.”

  “None of them?”

  A pained look came across her face. “Not really. I’ve tried what I can, but I don’t think we’ll get much help. If that,” she said, motioning to the dragon now perched on the Wasdig’s shoulder, “didn’t help, the others won’t be any better. I mean, we can use the same ones as before, but the Wasdig didn’t seem all that impressed by them.”

  “Not even the troll?” I whispered. Devan glanced over. “We need something more than the two of us when he goes off.”

  “Ollie, they don’t work like that. They’re not meant to attack for us, they’re more a kind of defense.”

  I wouldn’t have expected anything different. With Devan, her magic could only be used for defensive purposes, not to attack. That was part of the reason the Trelking relied on magical folk like myself. He could get around that most of the time. Hell, he could get around pretty much anything most of the time if he wanted. It was pretty easy to convince yourself you needed to use defensive magic. But there were times when pure defensive magic wasn’t enough. Those were the times when painters, or trolls, or bugwarts, or taylips, or any of the other magical beings in the Trelking’s employ became necessary. I didn’t have the strength some of the others did, but what I lacked in sheer strength I could make up for in creativity.

  Devan had always gone along with me on the various missions of her father’s. Most didn’t put me in any danger, but there were a few I’m sure he would rather have not had her with me. More than one she’d been the only reason I’d come back alive. Walking up to the Wasdig, still not knowing what the hell he might want, well… that was as stupid as anything we’d done.

  “Yeah, he probably eats trolls and snake foxes for breakfast,” I said, trying to lighten the mood.

  “Hey, Devan,” I said.

  “Yeah, Ollie?”

  “If this doesn’t turn out the way we hoped, I just want to tell you—”

  She cut me off, turning and pulling me toward her to plant a deep kiss on my mouth. I kissed her back, savoring it in spite of the threat thudding not more than a few steps away from us.

  When she released me, I smiled. “If only we could take a few minutes before finding out what the scary god wants with me.”

  “What kind of girl do you take me for?” she asked.

  I shrugged. “I thought—”

  “I mean, minutes?”

  I barked out a laugh. Devan’s skin surged with a brighter yellow color, reflecting off the cement and catching a little of Big Red parked in the distance, but not close enough that we could reach it. I kept hoping Jakes would show, but at this point—and after seeing the dragon return with the Wasdig’s staff—I didn’t expect it to happen.

  “Ollie—”

  As she said my name, the dryad scurried out toward us, skittering out of the darkness. Devan lunged after it. I didn’t know what could happen to the dryad but given I did know what the Wasdig was capable of doing—if only a little—I didn’t think it fair for me to leave the dryad accidentally coming across an angry god.

  “Shit,” I said.

  It was too dark for me to see anything. Devan was probably able to make out the dryad, but I couldn’t. She slipped away from me, leaving the Wasdig staring at me, the staff again steadily striking the ground.

  I hated that it was so dark. At least when I’d first come across the Wasdig there had been some light coming through the windows overhead giving a hazy sort of light. Now there was nothing but the soft glowing of his horns that reflected off the dragon’s scales.

  Devan flared her magic so that her skin cast a soft glow. It would be enough to see her, not much more than that. The dryad moved in the distance, but little more than a scurry of shadows. A strange creaking sound came from him as he moved, like wind blowing through branches.

  As the Wasdig’s powe
r built again and again, each time surging more than the last. The steady tapping of the staff now not only generated a rhythmic magical field but also now an actual sound that echoed through my bones, like a steady gonging of a bell mixed with loud thunder. It was a physical sense I could practically taste.

  I pulled one of the satchels of ink free from the hook on my belt—red for now, though I was willing to go to black if needed—and palmed it. Across the lot, Devan glanced over at me, watching me with a curious tilt to her eyes. There was a gleam that reflected from her glowing skin I hadn’t expected. I nearly stopped.

  The Wasdig suddenly stopped, his staff coming to rest on the ground. For the first time, I realized his long, twisted staff looked something like the dryad, though more weathered and with deeper knots. The horns protruding from his head caught the light from Devan’s skin and reflected it with a dazzling brightness that reminded me of the crystal room in Arcanus.

  The creature stared at me. “You delay the summons,” it finally said.

  After all that, and the summons was what he worried about? “I didn’t delay anything. I’m here, aren’t I?” I took a step forward, my eyes glancing to his staff. He hadn’t been terribly weakened by me taking it from him.

  Hell, he’d barely been fazed. Even without the staff, he’d managed to turn Devan’s giant dragon sculpture into something different, animating it, so it was practically real. Maybe it was real now that one of the gods had touched it.

  “The delay carries with it a penalty.”

  I paused. That didn’t sound too good. “What sort of penalty? You mean I don’t have to go with you?”

  The Wasdig’s mouth twisted and long, sharp fangs protruded from his upper lip. “You were selected. There will be no other going in your place.”

  I glanced over at Devan. At least that question was now answered. Someone had sent the Wasdig after me. Now that I knew he came from the other side of the Threshold, I only had to figure out who. The Trelking had no reason to come after me, not yet. That left the Druist Mage. If he learned the Trelking foresaw that I needed to destroy him, wouldn’t he figure out some reason to come at me?