Welcome Home (Alternate Worlds Book 3)

by Leigh, Taylor

  So. This is where that branching tunnel ended. Another building buried from sight.

  He sat back along the lower jaw and bit at his nails. Marus was watching him with those strange reflective eyes, waiting for instruction.

  ‘This is going to be more difficult than I first anticipated,’ he admitted.

  Marus’s eyebrows arched. ‘Oh? You thought you could just waltz in there and just take Victoria back?’

  Andrew clenched his teeth. ‘Well I didn’t expect a bloody fortress, now, how could I have?’ He cast another look to the compound below. ‘It’s more of the same as the time device. The tunnel connects through the mountain. They must have just stumbled over it. Noel probably dug the damn thing out of the bones.’

  Marus rolled his eyes. ‘As fascinating as that is, it doesn’t help us very much, now does it?’

  Andrew frowned at the floor below. Huge footprints, those of a beast, marred the sand, where they retreated, much smaller and human, to the doorway. ‘So, that’s where Noel is,’ he muttered.

  ‘He’s probably having a quick kip,’ Marus said. ‘Dragons sleep light, so don’t let that get your hopes up.’

  ‘I wonder how many guards they have inside,’ Andrew mused, not really listening to whatever Marus was saying.

  Marus gritted his teeth. ‘You’re insane! This will never work!’

  Andrew shook his head distractedly. ‘It has to. We have no other option. Victoria is being held in there. I cannot leave her! I’ve left her long enough as it is.’

  Marus swore. ‘You aren’t prepared.’

  Andrew pulled out his firearm and a knife. Marus did not look impressed.

  Andrew bristled. ‘Well it’s not like I had time to pack, is it? I’ve only got what I always carry on me.’

  Marus had a scimitar, an array of throwing knives, a dagger and a whip; significantly better off than Andrew. Still, it wasn’t the amount of weapons one had, he rationalised. It was the brain behind the person using them.

  ‘The dragon will be the greatest problem,’ he said at last.

  Marus licked his lips. ‘Glad you’re acknowledging that.’

  Andrew slid his hand back into his trouser pocket and smiled to himself. He had almost forgotten about it. Thank his foresight that he still carried it with him. Pulling a small sack out, he suppressed a chuckle before handing it to Marus.

  Marus took the sack, measuring the lumpy, heavy weight within. ‘What’s this?’

  Andrew looked off into the distance, searching the perimeter. ‘It’s my own discovery. The rocks, when lit, produce a rather overpowering fume that has the ability to put a grown man to sleep. The amount you’ve got there should take down a dragon of Noel’s size. Don’t toss them about like that!’

  Marus gaped at him in new appreciation. ‘And you just had this on you?’

  Andrew kept his eyes locked on the window. ‘Bit by chance, actually. I was in the city earlier. I wouldn’t have had it otherwise.’

  Marus whistled quietly. ‘You’re always prepared, I like that.’

  Andrew raised his brows slightly.

  Then Marus straightened as Andrew’s plan started to sink in. ‘Wait. You expect me to do what?’

  Andrew spotted a narrow path winding down not fifteen metres from the skull they were camped in. He stood as best he could, which was not much more than a crouch, and crept to the mouth. Marus followed.

  He leant out, gripping one of the large fangs above his head for support.

  ‘Keep to the shadows,’ he said at last. ‘I’ll go and find Victoria. You take care of Noel. Better to have him asleep then worry of him sneaking about somewhere.’

  Andrew slipped from the jaws of the ancient beast and painstakingly made his way to the narrow ledge, trusting Marus would follow. He scanned the rocky sand. Judging by the footprints—and it was such a mess it was difficult to tell—he estimated that about a dozen men, perhaps more, resided below.

  It felt right. There weren’t many Myrmidons, and most were in the city, as far as he could tell.

  Still, a dozen men against him were not good odds.

  And then there was that bloody dragon.

  He and Marus kept to the shadows. It was late. Most of the men should be asleep. Those here, he decided, had to be the more important members. Not the paid fighters. These were the plotters, the planners, the rich ones. Knowing that would give him the edge he needed. The people Andrew had been introduced to over the past few months certainly weren’t violent. They were philosophers. Thinkers.

  Fortunately, Andrew was both.

  They reached the bottom of the path and stood back in the shadows. Andrew closed his eyes briefly, coming to as calm a centre as he could manage, feeling Marus watching him sharply. Then, in one quick dart, they ducked to the carved entrance. In the gloom, he saw a curving staircase and another hall stretching off into the dark. Andrew pointed to Noel’s boot prints in the sand, taking the hall.

  ‘Take care of the dragon. I assume you’ll be able to smell him out. I will meet you back here in an hour’s time. If not, get back up into the bones, keep a lookout. If I’ve been captured, return to the palace. Gather an armed force and take them through the tunnel. I’ve recorded where the door is in my notebook. You can break through.’

  ‘This is all assuming I’m not burnt to a crisp!’ Marus grumbled.

  Andrew growled. ‘Oh, I have a feeling that might be harder than one might imagine.’

  Marus gave him a nasty look.

  Andrew nodded his head. ‘Now, get going.’

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Marus cursed to himself as he watched the tall, thin form of Andrew O’Neill strike off up the stairs. He couldn't help but appreciate his backside. Yes, the man might be an annoying prat, but he was a good looking one. Not Marus’s usual type, but there was something odd, yet elegant in his gaunt features and Marus liked it.

  Unfortunately, he might as well have tried flirting with a brick wall. Andrew seemed immune to any form of chatting up.

  He sighed and slipped deeper into the shadows of the passage, sniffing at the air for any scent of the beast, then dropped to all fours. There was a shimmer of blue that lit up the walls and when it faded a midnight blue dragon, the size of a large horse, filled the passage.

  Marus shook himself out, stretching each scaly leg and spreading his wings, feeling the blood start to pump through him. It had been a long time since he’d been in his true form. The darkness was no longer a problem for his eyes. He smiled grimly, trying to readjust to the feeling of sharp teeth in his mouth.

  Glancing down, between his clawed toes, was the small sack that Andrew had given him. With a grumble he opened his mouth, yet the fumes made him jerk back with a snort. His head cracked against the ceiling; he snarled and rubbed it irritably. Nothing was easy with humans. With a sigh he curled his tail around and encircled the sack, then hoisting the offending smell behind him, started off.

  Marus padded along, hopping from bone to bone, slinking through the shadows, keeping an eye out for anyone. Excitement coiled in his rippling muscles. This was what really got his blood moving. Well, this and the prospect of a good shag.

  As he made his way down the passageway, the smell began to hit him; the overpowering scent of dominance rolling out in crashing waves. It fired his natural instincts to go slinking back the way he’d come, belly to the floor, ears flat; as small and non-threatening as possible. The deeper he journeyed down the tunnel, the more powerful the feeling became. Now he was dragging each step, claws digging into the rocky floor and thanks to his nerves, smoke began to puff from his nostrils and the corners of his mouth. He could feel the hot building in the pit of his stomach. The welling of liquid fire. Typical dragon defensive mechanism to stressful situations. And it was growing increasingly more uncomfortable. He tried to fight it back, shaking his head back and forth, snorting smoke and sparks.

  He could hear Noel now. The deep, pulling breathes from a vast throat. Marus dropped down to
a lower crouch and slunk forward. The end of the tunnel was just ahead.

  He stopped.

  Before Marus was a cavernous room of carved rock walls, reaching up to a vaulted bone ceiling. Along the edges glittered old bits of art and technology and curled in the very centre of this great cave was the beast himself.

  Marus swallowed some acidic fire and sank back, becoming aware of just how quickly his heart had begun to beat. If he were in human form, and capable of such a thing, Marus had no doubt he would be drenched in a heavy sweat.

  Seeing a dragon as enormous as Noel did make Marus—in one of the very rare instances in his life—a little self-conscious. Marus had always considered himself a fine example of the male sex and was rather proud of his body—in human form. When he was forced to shift back to this loathsome shape, he was always confronted by just how inadequate he was. Yeah, as a human, he could charm the pants off of any species in any Realm, but as a dragon? He was like the butterfly of the wurm world.

  It was humiliating to say the least.

  Now, being confronted with an actual, proper dragon—and a dominating beast of the dragon hierarchy to boot—Marus was more than a little intimidated. It was almost an involuntary action on his part. Noel’s pheromones were heady and Marus felt his brain go mushy. It took a lot to get him drunk, and yet hiding just at the entrance to Noel’s lair, he was nearly sloshed.

  He crept back to have another look.

  Marus’s target—if what Andrew had told him was actually true—was Noel’s ugly snout. Assuming, of course, the fumes were as potent as he’d been led to believe. Marus couldn’t quite get over the visions in his head of winging the bag into Noel’s face, and then getting torn to shreds for having woken him.

  He ground his pointed teeth, and immediately regretted the action.

  He was going to have to go in there. Slink round the outer edge of the lair till he had a good opening, and then pray this worked. If not, he wouldn’t be around long enough to know.

  Still, his heart thudded in his chest. The fact Noel hadn’t already sensed him was miracle enough. Perhaps Noel was awake and was simply waiting for him to make a move. Coiled up like some giant viper in there, just waiting to strike.

  Marus steeled his nerve. He had to do this now. If Noel woke up to the commotion of a fight Andrew maybe caught in, because Marus was too much of a coward to do anything, he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. He sighed. How very un-dragon of him.

  Marus kept low to the ground and slipped into the room like a black ferret. His small size did give him one advantage: he was fast and agile. In a few quick bounds he went streaking across the outer perimeter of the room, casting furtive glances at the mountain of spines and scales to see if there was any change.

  When he could go no further Marus slid to a stop, pulling his wings into a rather useless shield. Noel didn’t stir. Marus lifted his head over his wings to peek. Nothing. He grinned.

  Quickly, Marus swept up the sack in one paw. Dubiously he froze to gaze down at it. It certainly seemed too small an amount for so huge a monster. A lump of dread settled to the pit of his stomach. This wasn’t going to work.

  Swallowing down another bout of fiery worry which had worked its way up his throat he took a breath, closing off his nostrils to the hundreds of overwhelming scents in the room. Then he sat on his haunches and cupped the sack close to his mouth and puffed hot air onto it. The sack burst into flames. Marus wasn’t sure if that was good or not but didn’t think on it long enough. He bent his arm back and hurled it towards the sleeping figure.

  The parcel hit Noel dead on the nose. His sleep shattered immediately and the dragon inhaled a huge breath in alarm. Almost instantly, Noel let out a horrible cough, yellow eyes bulging, wheezing, breathing in the vapours in a growing panic. The dragon’s eyes widened to focus terrifyingly on Marus; they brightened with murder—before dramatically rolling up in his head.

  With a tremendous crash! Noel hit the ground. A moment later, a snore escaped his deep throat.

  ‘Ha!’ Marus whooped. ‘Stupid git!’

  He spun round, casting one last gloating look over his shoulder and bounded back up the passageway.

  * * * * *

  Andrew didn’t let the automatic quickening of his pulse distract him as he slipped into the shadows. He tried to ignore the nervous whisper in the back of his brain that this was something he was not prepared for. He was sneaking into a fortified base, outnumbered, without any real plan besides get Victoria back.

  He forced his stiff legs up the twisting stairway; much too steep and dark for his preference. Along the way, his eyes darted to the walls. They were carved with familiar writing, the same he was trying to translate in his notebook. It was tempting to stop now and see what this decorative work said; perhaps another time.

  Now was a time for cunning and revenge.

  At last he reached the top of the stairs, paused, and went edging the way of the picture window.

  The echo of voices ahead bounced his way.

  ‘Perhaps you’ve misjudged the Traveller’s devotion to the girl,’ a gruff voice growled, ‘we’ve not heard word from the palace.’

  ‘He’s not going to come!’ another high-pitched voice whined. ‘Time to kill her and make a show of it!’

  Andrew slipped behind a pillar as the long shadows grew nearer.

  Two men whom Andrew rounded the corner. He craned his neck for a better glimpse.

  ‘I say we break in and drag him out,’ the gruff man said. ‘I’m tired of waiting. We had him in the palm of our hand and we just let him slip through our fingers.’ He made a fist.

  The other man muttered something under his breath. ‘Ramses wanted to make sure he was who he claimed to be.’

  ‘Well, I’d say he made that clear enough. We should have just nabbed him then!’

  ‘From what I heard, no-one could get near him. He’s dangerous. That’s why Ramses says he has to trust the Power to deliver him. He has to come on his own.’

  ‘But we have the dragon!’

  ‘I don’t think that matters.’

  Andrew was mildly surprised. The Myrmidons were afraid of him? Fascinating. And then, a more prudent question? Why?

  Whatever the reason, Andrew stored the information carefully away. It would have to be something he made good use of.

  Once the two men were out of sight Andrew ducked back into the hallway, pulling his knife from his belt. He was here for Victoria, yes, but also revenge for the pain and fear Victoria had suffered.

  Even as his thoughts turned bloody, a small piece of his brain managed to stay interested. Light fixtures attached to the walls glowed by some strange means other than fire and thick cords, like snakes, went running along the ceiling, humming soothingly.

  What was this place? The Myrmidons were much too primitive to imagine and operate something of this magnitude.

  Hell. He was.

  The passage widened ahead and Andrew took cover behind a rather ugly statue. To his far right curved the window of red glass. It cast an eerie glow about the room, giving some shape to the shadows.

  The nearest of these shadows was what sent his heart kicking faster. Sprawled, unmoving, on a large table was Victoria.

  She was out of his reach. He clenched his teeth. At least he had found her! She was lying quite limp, but he couldn’t see much other than that from the distance. If the bastards had touched her…

  More footsteps and none other than Ramses strode into his line of vision.

  ‘Waiting is always the hardest part of any experiment, isn’t it?’ he spoke seemingly to himself, headed across the room to Andrew couldn’t see.

  He pressed against the statue, feeling the exposure of the room now and saw what Ramses was addressing: a wicked looking stone arch. A few of the snaky cables that ran the ceiling draped down and ended plugged round the mouth of the shape. It appeared to be composed of that same alien material, plated round the edges with shining clamps and cables. One piece w
as missing, however: the keystone.

  Standing before it, like some angry crab, was a chair. More cables stretched between the two, strained taut. As far as Andrew could tell, they’d just taken random bits of ancient technology and cannibalised it together in a great mess.

  Now, what were they up to?

  Another Myrmidon walked into his view.

  ‘Even when we do have our hands on the Traveller, it will be for nothing without the keystone!’

  ‘We will have it.’

  ‘How?’ the man’s voice rose in pitch. ‘It’s not like we can just send the beast in there to knock the walls down! If it is lost then this is all pointless! You kill the princess and expect it to work in your favour, you are a fool!’

  ‘Enough!’ Ramses barked. ‘Do not say such things. It will all work out.’

  The other man laughed without humour. ‘That is your scientific opinion, is it?’

  Ramses shot the man a look and then rested his hands almost lovingly against the curve of the arch. He tilted his head. ‘Such an odd thing,’ he mused after a moment, ‘how a little innovation and technology we do not understand and a few scraps of ancient texts can drive us to such lengths. We do not even know what we search for.’

  ‘It is absolutely mad!’

  ‘It is genius.’ Ramses’s hands slid down to caress the chair. ‘What we have seen, what we have discovered, it is simply a taste of the riches and power that awaits us. We simply have to tap into it.’

  The man crossed his arms. ‘And that is the problem.’

  ‘One I relish.’

  Ramses gave the contraption one last lustful look before tucking a book under his arm and pacing out of sight. The doubter was left alone to hover.

  Casting a furtive look over his shoulder the fellow paused, then took several careful steps towards Victoria’s prone figure. With a growing smile, the stranger stretched his fingers to the mess of her dark curls.

  Andrew collected himself back to as calm a centre in his anger as he could manage, then stepped into the room.