The last time she had been here, the dragon's presence had been overpowering, the air throbbing with his magic. Tec had insisted his master was gone.
She dropped down on her rump and began to remove her boots.
"Whatcha doin', Angie?"
"Maybe nothing. We'll find out in a minute."
She pulled her socks off and stood up again. Her feet hurt from the blisters from walking up the mountain in homemade boots. This was probably pointless, but...
Angie stepped into the cold waters of the Black Pool, shivering and wrapping her arms across her chest as she did. She stepped back onto the bone-strewn shoreline, staring down at her feet.
Nothing. The blisters and sores remained. Tec was right. The dragon was gone.
But why were the hairs standing up on the back of her neck?
"What are we doing here?" Erin asked.
"Maybe wasting our time." Angie drew the flare back and then threw it as far as she could into the underground lake. The bright red light spun through the air and then hit the waters, sizzling out in a moment. Darkness rushed in on the two women.
And then, in the center of the lake, a golden glow pulsed beneath the waters, barely visible but unmistakable. Just like in her dreams.
"What the fuck?" asked Erin, the fear ringing clear in her voice.
"When we first came here, there was scuba gear in the bunker … can you show me how to use it?"
Erin stepped into the water beside her, her gaze transfixed on the pulsing golden glow in the center of the lake. She opened her mouth, closed it again, and then shivered. "Rowan," she finally said. "Rowan can show you."
"Okay," said Rowan, kneeling in front of Angie on the shore of the Black Pool. "This is going to be fast and furious. Usually, you take classes and start in a pool."
"There are no pools," Angie answered, her heart pounding. "And I can't swim."
Rowan snorted, a half grin on his grizzled features. "That's an entirely different problem, but you're not gonna swim, just float. I'll be with you, holding your hand the entire time, and I mean literally holding your hand. You let go, and I'm dragging you out of the water—by your hair if I have to. Got it?"
"Got it."
They had both stripped down to their underwear, but she had kept her T-shirt on, while he wore only the weird rubber vest—the BCD, the buoyancy something or another that could make him float up or down depending on how much air was in it. He had shown her how to wear hers, how to blow air into it, but she was so frightened she wasn't sure she'd remember when they got into the water.
More gear sat nearby, courtesy of Tec's never-ending supply depot: an underwater flashlight, two air tanks with the hoses and bits that went into your mouth, as well as weight belts, flippers, and half masks. Rowan had already stripped away the bent tubes attached to the masks, telling her they wouldn't need them. Erin, Jay, and Casey stood nearby, with Sandman, Earl, Silver Katana, and Miss Fortune. They all stared out over the dark waters. None of the We Clan really wanted to be down here, she could tell.
Neither did she, if she were being honest.
"It's gonna be bitchin’ cold on your girly bits," Rowan said, "but not so cold we're gonna need wet suits. Just remember to breathe. In and out, nice and slow. Never forget."
"Breathe. Got it," she said, bobbing her head as she fit her arms through her own BCD.
Erin knelt and helped her, pulling the zipper closed on the BCD and then strapping the weight belt around her waist. "Maybe I should go with Rowan. I can swim."
"Or me," said Jay.
"I'll go," said Casey. "I want to go."
"Nope, won't work," Jay said. "Shit floats."
Casey scowled, but Angie was too terrified to pay attention to their banter. She really wanted to take Erin up on the offer, but she knew it had to be her. "I'll be fine. I'll stick with Rowan."
"You'll hold my hand," he corrected her, sternly, like an angry father.
"I'll hold your hand. Just need to breathe and float. I can manage that."
"Breathing is gonna be the weird part, at least the first few breaths," Rowan said. "Everyone holds their breath when their head goes underwater. It's ingrained. Those first few breaths under water will come as a surprise. Then you'll be just peachy keen."
"No risks," Erin told Rowan. "You swim her out there, you take a look at that glow, and then you come right back."
"Relax, sis." Rowan smiled. "I was a SEAL, remember? This is what I do ... did. It's like riding a bike ... underwater. Okay, it’s nothing at all like riding a bike."
"Never did that either," said Angie.
"Besides." Rowan smiled. "Maybe that glow is treasure."
"Yeah, maybe," Angie answered, making a fist of her left hand. The dragon-mark remained cold.
In minutes, they were ready. Rowan placed the air tube in her mouth, and then just like that, she was breathing canned air for the very first time. While she stood on the shoreline, the tank felt heavy, the over-sized flippers felt awkward, and the weight belt pulled at her hips. Rowan had said it would be different in the water, and she'd barely notice the weight. Then Rowan took her hand, flashed her a bright smile, and led her into the cold water. She shivered with each step, and all too soon, the water was up to her knees and then her crotch—which was every bit as unpleasant as Rowan had warned—and finally her chest. She floated now, buoyed by the vest, the weight of the belt and tank no longer as heavy. But when her feet could no longer touch the smooth rocks beneath the water, she began to panic, to hyperventilate.
Rowan gripped her upper arms, pulling her along with him, maintaining eye contact. His flashlight hung from his wrist by a strap. He spit out his mouthpiece. "Be chill, Angie. Breathe. I have you. I won't let anything happen to you." He grinned. "Trust me, I'm a werewolf."
"Wolves don't swim."
"This one does, like a dolphin, like a bad-ass warrior dolphin."
Despite her fear, she snorted with laughter and then began to calm, but her pulse still raced. When she felt she could handle it, she nodded at him, and he drew her farther out into the water, still holding her arms, swimming backward, maintaining eye contact with her. He was right, she realized. She was floating and would continue to do so until she let air out of her BCD.
"Remember, once we go under, every few feet, we're gonna stop, pinch our noses, and gently blow. That'll release the pressure on your eardrums. Very important. Just as important as breathing and holding my hand. Got it?"
She bobbed her head. They had practiced that for about fifteen minutes—equalizing he had called it.
"It'll be even more important when we start to come back up to the surface. Like 'save your life' important. If, for whatever reason, you need to surface fast, don't hold your breath. Breathe out the entire way up. Got it?"
"Got it."
"Okay, now I want you to put your face underwater and just breathe. Okay? Just show me you can do it."
"'Kay," she mumbled through the mouthpiece. She took a deep breath then another as she readied herself. Finally, she put her face into the cold water. It was too dark to see anything other than the light from Rowan's flashlight, and despite his instructions, she held her breath. Come on, do it, she told herself. Don't be a baby. Everyone's watching. She breathed. Just a half breath at first but then another. The stunning revelation that she was breathing underwater sent a chill through her, almost enough to overcome her fear.
She was breathing underwater.
Angie lifted her face from the water. "Did it!" she said, spitting out the mouthpiece to grin at him.
Rowan smiled and put the mouthpiece back in her mouth. "That's great, but don't drop the regulator again."
She nodded.
"Okay, then, let's go see the strange glowy thing in the bottom of an underground lake where a dragon used to live. If it is treasure, I get dibs."
She smiled. Still holding her hand, he pulled her along the surface of the lake.
All too soon, they reached the glow, deep below
them. She tried to peer into the depths but couldn’t make anything out. Then he motioned for her to release air from her vest. Surprising herself, she remembered how. They began to sink, but very slowly, and the air pressure built much faster than she would have thought. After only a few feet Rowan stopped them, using his flippers to keep them in place, and watched her pinch her nose and blow. The air popped in her ears, feeling immensely better, and she nodded at him in surprise. They continued, slowly sinking into the depths of the lake. She barely noticed the cold now. Rowan stopped them every few feet to watch her equalize. They sank farther. Even with the equalization, the pressure became very uncomfortable, like she was being squished. Looking up, she saw nothing but air bubbles rising. Then, just for a moment, she saw something small and black dart through the water, maybe the size of her forearm.
Something lives down here, she realized in sudden panic. Rowan squeezed her hand, tapped his face mask to get her attention, and then held the bridge of his nose. She focused on equalizing, on the task at hand—descending. Glancing down, she saw the golden glow was now much brighter. She could even see the bottom of the lake.
And there, not ten feet away, at the base of one of the stalagmites, was the source of the glow. Angie’s breath caught in her throat.
It was a golden egg the size of her head.
She stared in disbelief. Small scalelike indentations covered the surface of the egg. Then it pulsed with a bright golden glow, as if a star burned within it. With Rowan still holding her right hand, she reached out for it with her left, swimming closer, and her fingers trailed over its pebbled surface. It’s warm. She placed her palm against it.
The dragon-mark on her palm throbbed. Energy coursed through her.
She snatched her hand away, staring in wonder at the fang-mark on her palm as it glowed in time with the egg.
Quetzalcoatl hadn't been the last of his kind after all.
Tec leaned over the sandbags atop the wall, firing aimed shots down into the Aztalan soldiers. This was the third assault on the southern wall since the fighting had begun. The resupply teams were coming around less often now, and the last time, they had only handed out loose handfuls of 5.56 mm bullets instead of clips or preloaded magazines. They had savaged the enemy, though, and hundreds of Aztalan corpses littered the ground before the wall.
He fired, dropped his target, picked another, fired, and dropped that one as well. Black smoke hung thick in the air, making his eyes water. The Aztalans had tried using trucks laden with explosives earlier, but all six of their improvised explosive vehicles burned in the field, the closest having come within forty meters of the wall. Tec was no fool. No way he'd let a rolling bomb get close to the walls.
But if they try that now…
His magazine was empty, the breech to the rear, so he reloaded with another, noting how few he had left. Everyone in the city had given up whatever they had. Someone claimed that even the city's underworld had provided guns and ammo—with the criminals now fighting alongside the defenders. No great fan of people, Tec had his doubts, but it was possible. Certainly, the criminals would understand that if the city fell, they'd end up on the sacrificial altars as well.
Marshal had been on the radio, begging the other Commonwealth city-states to send a relief force, but Marshal was wasting his time, Tec knew. The other cities would sit back and watch, worried about themselves, hoping that the Aztalans might stop with Sanwa City. They wouldn’t. The Aztalans would take them out one at a time until the entire west coast was theirs. And then ... well, it wouldn't matter then; he'd be long dead.
Sorry, Angie. I couldn't come for you after all. I failed you, failed everyone.
His bitterness burned like a fire in this throat as he took aim once more, this time picking out what he hoped was an Aztalan officer screaming orders at the others. His finger tightened on the trigger—
And Tec gasped. The dragon-mark on his left palm flared into life for the first time since his master's death.
Something had changed.
Something wondrous.
Far to the south, in a new sleeping hole beneath the mountains, the black dragon Itzpapalotl awoke from a deep slumber.
Something had changed.
Something terrible.
Chapter 40
Her body and hair still wet, shivering with cold, Angie set the golden egg atop the table in the bunker's command post. Each of her nerve endings was charged, and her pulse raced. The air throbbed with power. The last time she had felt such energy was in the presence of the feathered serpent. It was surreal, like a dream. She was afraid she’d wake up, discover it was a dream, but there before her was a dragon egg.
Erin threw a large towel over Angie’s shoulders and soaked T-shirt, and Angie pulled it tight about her.
"Well," said Casey, standing behind her with his family and the four We Clan members, "who's up for a really big omelet?"
When Erin glowered at him, he rolled his eyes.
Angie bent over the table, peering intently at the egg. "Put a light behind it."
Rowan, still in his underwear, had his bright underwater light, and he shined it on the rear of the egg. Despite her hopes, the egg wasn't translucent, and she couldn't see anything within in. It still throbbed with golden light, but here where it wasn’t dark, the light wasn’t as overpowering. There's a baby dragon in there.
She met Rowan's eyes. "You said there might be treasure..."
Rowan’s gaze was filled with wonder. "Wasn't expecting this."
"No one was. Not even Tec."
"You sure?" Erin asked softly.
"I'm sure." And she was. Not because they had been lovers but because their intimacy had been so intense, she was certain neither would have been able to hide anything from the other. No, Tec had held nothing back from her that night in Coronado. For maybe the first time in his life, he had completely trusted another, as had she.
"I doubt Queen Elenaril knew either. Char certainly didn't. I think maybe … maybe this is the reason Quetzalcoatl went after the other dragon, Tezcatlipoca, because he knew he wasn't the last. Maybe he was even trying to save this one..." She sighed. "I have no idea. I'm guessing."
"I think you're entitled to guess," said Rowan.
Sandman edged closer to the table, his sister, Earl, and Silver Katana looking over his shoulder. Fear and wonder flitted across their faces. "Is that really..."
"A dragon egg," Angie confirmed.
"Saw ’em on television," said Earl. The old man's body was stooped and frail, wracked by a too-hard life, but his eyes shone like those of a child on Christmas morning. "A lifetime ago, seems like."
The wonder in his voice moved Angie, and she wrapped an arm around his waist and hugged him. "I remember that day too. Now."
"May I?" Miss Fortune asked, her small hand raised toward the egg.
Angie smiled. "Gently."
The girl trailed her fingers over the scaled, pebbled surface of the egg. Her face lit up in a smile. "It's warm."
"It's alive," Angie answered.
"What now?" Rowan asked. "I'm assuming we need to guard it from the other one, the big black one?"
A current of fear coursed through Angie as she thought of Itzpapalotl. Of course she had to keep it safe. The need to do so was overwhelming, but how? She knew nothing of dragons. No one did.
But Tec might.
"I have to get to Sanwa City," she said. "Now more than ever. As soon as possible."
"About that," Casey said then cleared his throat. He glanced at the radio set within the room. "While you and Erin were down below, Jay and I picked up a UHF signal, a one-in-a-hundred bounce off the ionosphere. It was just a snatch of a transmission but..." He bit his upper lip, his face uncertain.
"Oh, for God's sake, Casey," said Jay. "Tell her."
"It was coming from Sanwa City, sounded like Marshal himself. He was pleading for support from the other Commonwealth cities, especially ammo. He said ... he said the city was going to fall, maybe a d
ay, maybe not even that long. That was an hour ago."
"Jesus," whispered Angie, the room seeming to grow dark around her. "We need to go." She looked to Rowan, her panic soaring. "We have to start driving right now!"
This time the Seagraves exchanged small smiles, and Casey's eyes shone. "Maybe not, Angie-baby."
She stared at Casey in confusion.
Angie faced the gleaming Blackhawk helicopters, the smell of aviation fuel pungent in the enclosed hangar. The last time she had been down here, both aircraft had been prepped for storage, their rotors removed. Now the closest aircraft had all the rotors attached and looked ready for flight—and battle. Two powerful stub wings extended from the aircraft's fuselage, and attached to the hard points were four Hellfire antitank missiles, a pair of Hydra 70 mm unguided rocket pods, and a 12.7 mm GAU-19 triple barrel Gatling gun. Someone had painted a snarling wolf's head onto the nose of the aircraft. It must have been a rush job, because the paint had run, making it look like the wolf's fangs dripped blood. She stepped closer, seeing Casey's name had been hand-painted under the pilot's window: Captain Casey "Grim" Seagrave, his old call sign in the Home Guard.
She turned to see the smiles on the faces of the Seagraves. Casey looked ready to burst with pride. He stepped forward, hands on hips, as he considered the aircraft. "She's no fancy-dancy Shrike. Can't carry half the payload, and she's noisy as hell, but I figure she'll do the job."
Now she saw the second Blackhawk helicopter was missing parts, the paneling removed, and the engine, wiring, and turbines exposed. She stared at Casey, overwhelmed with emotion. "But ... but you said you couldn't repair them."
"Said it would take weeks—with an aircraft mechanic to help. Didn't have a mechanic, so we all had to dig in and figure shit out on our own." He slung an arm around both Erin’s and Jay's necks, pulling their heads in tight. "Good thing my little sister and bro are way smarter than I am."
"Got that right," said Jay, but Angie could see he too beamed with pride. He and his sister slipped out from under Casey's arms. "Had to strip parts from the other, but..."
The Awakened World Boxed Set Page 88