Tesser: A Dragon Among Us (A Reemergence Novel)

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by Philbrook, Chris


  Gardens all across the world where it was still warm started to flourish and bloom. The fairies had come back; they cast aside their shy nature so they could bask in the glow of the surge of magic. Very efficient creatures at the spreading of pollen and the nurturing of flowers and all things botanical. The greenery and wonder of the previously mundane terrace flower collections erupted into a riot of life. People began to snap pictures of the tiny flying fae, drunk on the fresh flow of magic in the world, and share them on the internet. The now famous photo of a female fairy smiling through a kitchen window at an eight-year-old Moroccan boy became an icon for the time.

  The darkness came with the light, as one cannot exist without the other. Glasgow's night fell quickly into the hands of a large vampire nest that had been dormant for a century. Nightclubs, bars, pubs, museums, and many businesses were taken over by the creatures of the night. When the police attempted to investigate, they too were taken over to the dark by the vampires, and to this day, the Scottish city is not safe when the sun goes down. It isn't particularly safe during the day either. But as you might expect by now, that's a very different story, for a different day.

  In Buenos Aires, a tribe of goblins erupted from their subterranean lair and into the city streets, emboldened and attempting to claim the city for their own. Luckily, there were only a few hundred goblins and their knowledge of modern technology was woeful. When the Argentinean military responded, the goblins were dispatched with haste. Many were killed, but just as many escaped back down into their under city hive, led by their hulking goblin king. The city officials continue to search for the lair of the creatures, but as of yet, have not found it.

  Then, only then, the world accepted what was really and truly happening: it was the rebirth of a lost age. Magic had returned.

  Poor Mr. Doyle's life was upended in the most stupendous of ways. He was blessed in the sense that his enchanted wine glass began to work once more. His body began to turn back the clock immediately after his first glass of fermented grapes, and he drank many, many glasses. Not for their restorative effects, but more to cope both with the attention the world thrust upon him as well as with nearly losing yet another apprentice. Nevertheless the end result was the gift of a decade taken off his body and the banishment of his arthritic pain.

  The Boston Police visited him first, then the FBI. Soon after, the ATF made their appearance, and after them came a string a mile long of government agencies with three letter acronyms. And they all asked the same questions.

  Where did the dragon come from? Is he dangerous to National Security? Why did he destroy so much property? What happened to the men he killed? Why is there a talking tree in your front yard?

  And on and on they went with their questions, pressing for more and more information. They attempted to seize all of Mr. Doyle's possessions, citing a string of laws that allowed them to do so. Mr. Doyle, ever the thoughtful and witty character, informed them that too few of the lab geeks would know how to handle such rare things of arcane power and that the dragon might be very, very angry that the old man's things were taken from him. It was agreed by all that angering the dragon was a bad idea, so they allowed him to keep his artifacts. And Mr. Doyle was happy, because he loved having all of his things and having them work again. The joy of bending the U.S. government over wasn't lost on him either.

  Abraham Fellows, friend of Tesser and Mr. Doyle, was shot multiple times in the abdomen by Legion. He suffered a perforated lung, a shattered clavicle, multiple broken ribs, and his intestinal tract took it even worse than that. A doctor described his innards as being 'Swiss cheese' more than once. As Tesser asked him to, Sergeant Spooner was able to rush Abe straight to Beth Israel, which was only a few streets over. In the emergency room there, the doctors were able to stop his bleeding and repair the incredible amount of damage done to his body. They surgeons later credited a spell cast by Mr. Doyle in his home for his survival. Their news conference after the fact started an entire industry of arcane medical study.

  Sergeant Spooner was put through the ringer right alongside Mr. Doyle, though they took Spoon back to the station first. Had Spoon not taken the few days off that he did, he would've been fired for sure, but his explanation of being out for a drive that night was solid enough to pass the sniff test. It helped that Spoon was the sole Boston Police Department employee who had met Tesser in human form and could claim to have a good relationship. Tesser's words to Spoon the night of his emergence helped smooth over any of the Sergeant's failings. He was put on paid leave as per department regulations while an investigation was made into the shootings. Granted, there were no dead bodies to account for, but that didn't make the incident any less interesting to a slew of already interested parties. When they realized that Spoon had been shot in the massive firefight, they rushed him back to Beth Israel to get patched up. Spoon never said anything about being hurt.

  Perhaps most interesting of all the incidents during Tesser's two-week-long absence from the world was the complete and utter fumbling of the investigation into Matty Rindahl's disappearance. She suffered from the poor timing of having been allegedly kidnapped on the same day as the first sighting of a dragon. Matty's parents were beside themselves, and after the world simmered down enough, they flew straight to the States to head the push into finding their daughter. Alexis of course was torn in two directions; she wanted to help find Matty, but she also wanted to be by Abe's side. In the end, when Matty's parents arrived, she went to Abe. It was just easier to be there for him, and defending him from the thousands of questions levied in his direction was something she was very passionate about. He was her man after all. Plus, when Abe regained consciousness, he assured Alexis that all would be well. After all, Matty had a dragon for a boyfriend.

  No one told the media about the connection between Matty and Tesser. Perhaps if they had, Matty would've benefitted.

  And through all this, slinking through the silence they carefully shrouded themselves in, were the people in charge at Fitzgerald Industries. The paragons of modern science and medicine, slowly ushering magic out of the world and into oblivion, and allowing the ever growing foothold of one of the most powerful of all the Veil-Born.

  Legion.

  Of course when Tesser returned to the public eye two weeks after his world-changing encounter in the city of Boston, they would eventually be dragged out into the world spotlight.

  And there would be blood, and there would be death.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Mr. Doyle

  In the aftermath of the daemonic assault, Mr. Doyle's home immediately received extensive repairs. His thick, wide, custom-made front door held strong against the daemons that had come knocking. As was right, they were unable to cross the threshold of the ash door, but they did put hundreds of high velocity rounds through it. As he had feared, Mr. Doyle's arcane protections weren't designed for 21st century warfare.

  In addition to his very expensive door, his rugs and hard wood floors were either torn up by more automatic weapons fire, or were stained by obscene amounts of Abraham's blood. His entire dining room and most of his living room was run through with more destruction from the gunfire. It didn't help that when the wards on his bay windows failed and Legion came in with three of his false bodies, Mr. Doyle was forced to use an Incendium spell. He was able to kill one of the daemons with the arcane fire, but the other two… they left with Abraham before he could muster enough strength for a proper spell.

  I should've been stronger. If there had been more magic for me to wield that night, he would not have been shot at all. My wards shouldn't have failed. The spells and runes are centuries old, tried and true. But the magic that night was still thin, though it is better now with this sudden influx of arcane power since Tesser's true reveal.

  And what a reveal it was. Mr. Doyle was dealing with the fallout from that now as well. The FBI brought in a special home contractor for Mr. Doyle that worked with the government. The Brit's home was rebuilt by t
he same men who worked on The White House. He was so very honored. When they finished, he also ensured that there were no special listening devices worked into the repairs. He'd found none, but still refrained from talking to himself aloud.

  The state of Mr. Doyle's rejuvenated home was in direct conflict with how devastated he was internally. His failed wards, his doubt of Tesser, and how impotent his magic was when it mattered most. Even though his apprentice, Abraham, had survived the daemonic assault, it would be some time before Mr. Doyle would be able to forgive himself for his failures. It was strange to be alone again so suddenly.

  The pain of the teaching mage: to watch your apprentice learn a craft that will most likely kill them, no matter how much knowledge you impart. It is akin to teaching a suicide bomber, albeit with no fanatic religious belief to make it acceptable. All I've taught poor Abraham is how to fail.

  Uniformed Boston Police officers stood behind a ring of steel barricades outside the house on the street. The city had brought in the metal fencing to keep curious folks away. This was, after all, where the dragon was first seen. Almost around the clock, the iron bars kept someone out of the neighborhood and allowed Mr. Doyle and the hamadryad some peace and quiet. Inside that outer ring of police was of course Ellen, the hamadryad. After the battle in the street she helped to swing in their favor, she had returned to her home in the garden. Not before the police saw her move there, of course. She was the subject of near constant scrutiny by a small cadre of scientists and government officials, but when a tree wishes to be left alone… it simply is. As the scientists were learning, Ellen was powerfully good at ignoring their questions. I suspect she's waiting for Tesser's return before she speaks.

  Besides all the scientists and police, there were no less than twelve heavily armed government agents making constant patrols up and down the street. They reminded Mr. Doyle of the Legion bodies that had come for Tesser. Fake men wearing fake uniforms, trying to trick the world into dying. At least these men are real. Born on the correct side of the Veil. The side where good at least has a chance to flourish.

  No one had been allowed into his home since that night, and he hadn't been allowed to leave. That suits me. I've nowhere to go, and they keep bringing me suitable meals. Being protected by the government in this instance feels welcome, even though I know their guns will be useless if Legion returns.

  Mr. Doyle's phone had rang several times, but he kept his calls curt and to an absolute minimum. It was almost certain that the government was tapping his line, and the last thing he wanted to do was give them time to trace an incoming call back to old friends. He'd never get over it if his incompetence led to a friend dying or being arrested. Many of Mr. Doyle's friends were wanted for various crimes that the modern world wouldn't understand the need for. Abraham's near death will be enough guilt for a good long while, thank you.

  Mr. Doyle heard a noise from the kitchen. The now much younger man got to his feet and fingered a small pendant around his neck. His fingertip tickled with buzzing energy emanating from the smooth, plain, brown stone. A single spoken word would unleash a terrible elemental force from the necklace at whomever or whatever he wished it upon. At least, I hope it will.

  Cautiously, the old man left the living room and walked through the entranceway that still smelled of paint and treated wood. He crossed the spot on the floor that Abraham's blood had spilled out on. A flash of memory of the deep red streaks from where the daemons had dragged Abraham's body came to him. The floor might be new, but those dark images would last for some time to come.

  Mr. Doyle moved slowly but confidently down the short hall, past his pantry, and into the kitchen. He stopped when he saw a giant rat sitting on the counter near his sink. The rat was on its hind legs, sitting up like a tiny person might. For a moment, both froze, looking at one another.

  Dear me, a large rodent.

  Then the rat nodded its head in a far too human way. The rat had golden eyes.

  Oh, then. That might be Tesser. Let's attempt some subterfuge. "Well then, I think I'll retire upstairs. It's getting late." Mr. Doyle then backed away a few steps back towards his pantry, and the rat jumped off the counter. Then, as it fell as smoothly as a curtain blows in a summer breeze, the rat transformed into a proud house cat. It thumped its feet onto the floor and skittered away, past Mr. Doyle and up the stairs with purpose.

  Well, that settles that.

  *****

  When the aged British sorcerer reached the pinnacle of the stairs and wandered into his office, fighting to catch his breath, he saw that the Tesser-cat was on the desk, curled into a tight ball, and looking as mundane as any cat on Earth.

  "You're a crafty one, dragon. Now get off my desk."

  The cat stood up immediately and sprang off the fine oak worktable. Before the paws could hit the ground, Tesser's body morphed once more. The effect looked as if a cat had jumped off the desk, but a person had walked away from it.

  "Sorry to enter like this, but I felt it was a good idea not to alert the suits outside," Tesser said. He was naked.

  "Modesty first, son; go get some clothes while I ready some protections," Mr. Doyle said, averting his gaze. Tesser left and scampered downstairs to his room while Mr. Doyle fetched a handful of small scarab beetles from an aquarium in the back of his massive vault-room of artifacts. He delicately placed one beetle inside three different beautifully painted, palm-sized boxes. He closed a golden mesh lid over the insects, and within moments each box began to hum an unearthly tone. He arranged the three boxes in a very specific triangular pattern around his desk before sitting down. Tesser joined him as he leaned back comfortably.

  "What are the beetles for?" Tesser asked as he sat down in a chair.

  "When placed in those resonant boxes, they emit a magical field of noise that cancels out most forms of eavesdropping. I think our privacy here is suspect and I see no reason to allow the government any insight into our conversation."

  "Smart. It's impressive how much innovation the human race has brought to the magical world. I saw on the news that Abe is doing well. Thank you for helping save his life. Your spell seems to have saved him."

  Mr. Doyle shook his head, the tiniest amount of frustration pressing his lips together tightly. "It was only partly my spell. Your friend, the Sergeant… I forget his name, but he was able to spirit our friend to the hospital in time. They were able to bring him back from the brink. Thankfully."

  "I am very happy, Mr. Doyle. Abe is a friend of mine. If he had died, things would've been worse. I don't think I could've controlled myself."

  Mr. Doyle paused before speaking again. "You have been gone a long time," Mr. Doyle said.

  "The world needed time. I needed to hide, think, plan."

  "Hide? Think? Plan? I should hope you have a right bloody good plan by this point. Stirring the pot is one thing. You've gone and upset the entire kettle. Your display at the top of that building the other night has unsettled the entirety of the human race. Other races as well it would seem. It was selfish, Tesser."

  "It was necessary. Humans have forgotten what this world is about. They needed a slap in the face."

  "People don't like being slapped in the face, you arrogant sot!" Mr. Doyle cursed under his breath lowly. "You must understand people are frightened, Tesser, and frightened people have wreaked a wretched amount of destruction and misery on this world. You stormed through one of the world's largest cities like a monster, not a creature of beauty and wonder and life, filled with wisdom and goodness. You ripped men from cars and flung them about like a spoiled child would cast aside a no longer amusing toy. You destroyed cars, you damaged homes, and to put icing on the cake, my good friend, you climbed to the top of a building and breathed a flame so high that the clouds burnt away. You, sir, are no better than a monster in a Hollywood film right now. You're bloody Godzilla."

  Tesser sought for a response but found none. He hadn't seen that movie, but he knew Mr. Doyle was right.

  "You are a
being of a different age, dragon. When last you were among our kind you dealt with uneducated, near feral heathens. But now, we have science, mathematics, cities, cultures and economics. Yes, I grant you that we've left behind the finest art of magic, but, Tesser, you cannot simply scare humans into behaving as you wish us to. We can split the atom now, and that is a force that you cannot persuade or threaten into doing your bidding."

  Tesser's ire grew at that scolding from the old man. "Then what now? Men are responsible for Matty and my unborn child being taken away. I searched high and low all across the city looking for her to no avail. Men have reached across the Veil and brought into this world foulness that cannot and shall not be tolerated. If you continue to tread the path that you walk, I will have no other choice than to cull the herd. It is my task to manage the life of this world, and if I deem you a liability, then you shall be removed."

  "Your threat is childish, Tesser, and I say that knowing you probably mean every word of it. I also know you're apt to be the kind of chum that can follow through on that threat."

  "I am," Tesser said hotly. The dragon's anger had raised the temperature in the room. Literally. A bead of sweat trickled down Mr. Doyle's temple.

  "But you've failed to realize that you've the talent to change things. A great opportunity still lies within reach for you, and you need to seize it before it slips away." Mr. Doyle started to smile. Let's see how patient he can be.

 

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