Old Wicked (The Last Dragon Lord Book 3)

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Old Wicked (The Last Dragon Lord Book 3) Page 8

by Michael La Ronn


  “As inept as they may seem, the different departments of the government cooperate and talk to each other. But we are not on trial,” Oceanfield said, smirking. “But if you want to talk about cooperation, let’s talk about how you sent your campaign manager slash girlfriend slash assailant to threaten Mr. Tony Dyer. Do you care to explain why you felt the need to threaten a nineteen year-old with bodily harm?”

  Lucan pounded the table and stood. “She didn’t touch him. That’s bullshit and you know it!”

  “If it were not for Amal Shalewood, who knows what would have happened?”

  “Don’t you think it’s funny that the Shalewoods keep popping up in this story?” Lucan asked. “Put their asses on the stand, not mine!”

  “Why did Bartholomew try to kill you, Lucan?” Oceanfield asked. “I’ve read through thousands of pages related to you, and honestly, I know you better than you know yourself right now. The segments about Old Dark make sense. The discovery took you by surprise and it scared you. You didn’t know what to do about it, and so you reacted in a very human way by trying to cover it up. It’s a violation of the law but I understand it. I also understand how you tried to reclaim Old Dark after he escaped. What a twisted, strange sense of honor you have, but in my opinion, it was the right thing to do, though civil authorities could have helped you. Fortunately for you that’s not a violation of any law, but it’s an ethical...disappointment. But I do not, for all the fish that swim in the sea, understand what you could have done to the Dyers to make them want to kill you.”

  “So that’s why I’m on trial,” Lucan said. “You want me to tell you that I did something illegal. Well, I didn’t. His dad was a money-hungry bastard. He put his son in a sling and tried to blackmail me. I skipped out of the restaurant and left him the bill. Then bang—he tried to shoot me. It’s really easy, Senator.”

  Senator Oceanfield was speechless.

  “You want to pin a Magical Lands Act violation on me, then let’s talk about that, because I’ve got a campaign to run, and we all know you’re going to let me walk out of here without a charge to my name.”

  “Quite the contrary,” Oceanfield said. “Mr. Grimoire, I suggest that you call your attorney and prepare a press release for your rabid followers, because I am recommending indictment.”

  Intermezzo

  Rumors began to spread in Magic Hope City about the mysterious string of violence that had plagued the city in the last few weeks.

  The news networks were silent. They only presented the facts. ‘Police are looking for a perpetrator. If anyone has information, we urge you to call the police.’

  And then on to the next story.

  But the public did not forget. Humans and elves talked about it on the streets, in offices, in high-rise condos in the middle of the city.

  Something was going on, and the citizens were being left out of it.

  First, an infestation of Magic Eaters in the Ancestral Bogs. Then a massive circle of felled trees. A government investigation that seemed to go nowhere. A political candidate shot while taking a walk with his daughter. Two prominent dragons in the city dead in the same night, their father disappearing without a trace. Helicopters over the sixth district—explosions, gunfire, roars—but no conclusive facts.

  You could feel the anger bubbling in the streets. You could feel it seething off the skin of every man and woman, who wanted to know what was happening in their city. Was it all connected? Was it all just a coincidence? With an election looming in just a few days, the future of Magic Hope City was at stake, a future that was already uncertain and tinged with pessimism.

  Where were the political candidates? Why weren’t any of them talking about this? Arguments broke out at campaign rallies.

  Dragons watched as the city began to eat itself from the inside out. They remained quiet and did not interfere. But they too sensed an awakening. They perched on the roofs of buildings, their eyes trained to the sky, for they knew something was coming. But they could only laugh at the elves’ and humans’ confusion.

  And so the city descended into fear on the eve of history’s next chapter…

  ACT III

  XVII

  Lucan emerged from the Governance chamber drenched in sweat.

  Celesse and Earl were waiting for him in the lobby under a stained-glass window.

  Celesse hugged him and he shook Earl’s hand.

  “I knew you’d give them hell, sir.”

  Lucan shook his head. “It’s not over yet, Earl. The senator is recommending indictment.”

  “Wasn’t that accounted for?”

  “Yeah, but it’s not like I fucking want to go to jail.”

  Lucan dug his hands in his pockets and stared up at the stained-glass window. Pink and red and green and blue, it depicted a Crafter dragon with clouds swirled around it, and a rolling countryside below with wooden huts and sheep dotting the landscape. Lucan had seen this painting ever since he was a kid and it always seemed majestic to him.

  He sighed. “Any luck from Miri?”

  Celesse shook her head.

  “Damn it,” he said. “The rest of the plan hinges on her. If we don’t—”

  “I know she’ll do us proud,” Earl said. “She’s the only one who knows that old dragon’s ways.”

  “I should have destroyed that tomb when I had the chance,” Lucan said. “This was all one big mistake.”

  “It’s okay,” Celesse said, rubbing his back. “Let’s just trust the plan.”

  She locked her arms with his and leaned in for a kiss. God he’d missed her!

  “I’m glad you both made it out alive,” Lucan said. “Earl, I’m sure you want to go home and hug your kids right now.”

  “Not until it’s all over,” Earl said. “I’m here with you until the end, sir.”

  “You’re the best, Earl.”

  They walked silently through the dark wall-papered and stained-glass Governance lobby, the only people in sight. Chandeliers hung above them, interlaced like golden spider webs.

  “I hope we’ve seen the last of the men in suits,” Earl said.

  “I’ll drink to that,” Celesse said. “If I never see them again—”

  “You just jinxed us,” Lucan said.

  Ennius was standing at the entrance to the lobby with his arms folded. Several men in black suits surrounded him.

  “Crap,” Celesse said.

  Lucan held her close as they approached. Earl tensed up, his hands curling into subtle fists.

  As they approached, Ennius began to clap slowly. The rest of the men followed until the lobby was filled with slow, measured applause.

  Fucking bastard.

  “You did a great job in there from what I hear,” Ennius said. “If you’re lucky, you’ll end up in jail.”

  “You’re not walking out of this clean, either, Unc.”

  “I don’t have to,” Ennius said. “I’m not the one who’s down in the polls. When is the election? Oh, right...it’s this time next week. Why don’t you just give your concession speech now?”

  “I’d love to,” Lucan said, “but if I remember correctly, you issued a gag order.”

  “I just lifted it,” Ennius said. “I’ve already sent everything ahead to the press. They’re waiting for you.”

  Ennius pointed out the lobby doors. An extravaganza of cars and people with cameras were waiting for him.

  “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?” Lucan asked.

  “Immensely. I’ll enjoy it even more when the conviction happens before election night. Won’t that be something? I’ll be re-elected and you’ll be in jail. That sounds about right to me.”

  Lucan pushed past his uncle but Ennius grabbed him. “I told you I would destroy you.”

  “Think again,” Lucan said. “You haven’t seen half of what I can do.”

  Ennius laughed. “Neither have you.”

  A long, awkward stare down ensued, and Lucan didn’t look away from his uncle’s hard stare. After w
hat seemed like minutes, Ennius broke away and said “Gentlemen! Let’s leave Lucan to savor his last few days as a free man.”

  He strode away and the men in black followed as he climbed a golden staircase toward the second floor.

  “Was that a threat?” Celesse whispered.

  “I don’t know,” Lucan said.

  Earl slid on a pair of leather gloves and glanced outside. The press was waiting eagerly. He shook his head and clicked his tongue. “Sir, Miss. I recommend you follow me quickly. I might have to crack some heads so I reckon you keep up.”

  XVIII

  Dark flew in V formation with Norwyn, Frog, Lister, Brownigan and Sage. He was in the center.

  They passed through a cloud, and the jeweled lights of Magic Hope City glinted on the horizon.

  “Just like old times!” Dark cried. “My dragons and I, terrorizing the skies. We will be the night!”

  He glanced over at Frog, who was flying listlessly and deep in thought.

  “Will you not share in this joy?” Dark asked. “Your father would have loved this moment, Frog—flying through the skies with the dragon lord!”

  “It’s enjoyable enough,” Frog said. “But my joy’ll have to wait...my lord.”

  “Ah, those sweet, sweet words! You’ve come around, my boy.”

  “If it’s words you want to hear, I ain’t going to argue. But when it comes to strategy, I’m expectin’ ya to listen to me.”

  “I’ve never stopped listening to you, Frog,” Dark said, grinning. “I haven’t forgotten your loyalty.”

  “Norwyn!” Frog called. The wind whistled around them. “What are your plans?”

  Norwyn’s white orb beeped and the dragon looked backward. “You’ll see soon enough.”

  “We’ve been travelin’ around and for what?” Frog asked. “I’ve’ll been as patient enough as I can be. If you ask me, it’s about time we sat down and started talkin’ about what we’ve’ll gonna do now that Old Dark is back among the living.”

  “And we will,” Norwyn said. “We will.”

  “My boy,” Dark said, flying close to Frog. “Why can’t you just enjoy a late afternoon flight? Why, flights with the dragons closest to me are what I missed the most after my slumber. I’ve missed it, indeed!”

  Frog flew silently and did not respond.

  I’ll give him time. He has made the first critical step. I thought I was in for a dreadful job!

  They drifted on the wind and it carried them closer to the city, over a rural road and vast clumps of forests.

  Dark hated to see Magic Hope City again. He had hoped it had been one bright, fearful, terrible dream. He hated the soup of a city filled with dragons, elves and humans commingling like they were equals!

  He closed his eyes, savored the wind ripping around his wings. He could have flown all day. But his wings were starting to ache, and even though he didn’t want to go back to Magic Hope City, he was glad for an eventual rest.

  And Brownigan and Sage and Lister! Holdovers from the ancient times, friendly faces who still remembered him. Perhaps the world hadn’t forgotten him after all.

  He opened his eyes as the formation dropped altitude, flying under the belly of a wispy cloud. The city was closer now, a blunted blade of light against the silver sky.

  “There’s the Temple of Unity,” Sage said. “That traitor Scar is probably counting his gold right about now.”

  The temple was a tiny speck below, surrounded by wetlands.

  Dark scoffed at the thought of Scar. “No, Sage, he’s probably rebuilding that accursed statue of Fenroot. I destroyed it. You wouldn’t believe how he cried!”

  Sage, Brownigan and Lister laughed. Dark joined them and glanced again at Frog. The river dragon flew with his gaze straight ahead, his mouth locked into a frown. Dark ignored him.

  “Dragons, I want to meet each and every dragon who remembers my name. I want them all in one place so that I can address them.”

  “Soon,” Norwyn said. “My lord, we are nearing the city. Stay close.”

  ***

  They broke formation and swooped down into the dragon lanes, joining dragon traffic between the tall buildings. Frog brought up the rear, and Dark stayed close behind as Norwyn led him through many twists and turns.

  He was going to be sick. How many times did this city curl upon itself? It was maddening.

  Then a giant gray building caught his eye. It stretched for blocks, like a cathedral made of ash. Hundreds of spires rose from the roof, gleaming in the sky.

  “What is that sordid place?” Dark asked.

  “Our destination,” Norwyn said. “This is the Hall of Governance, the heart of the city’s government, and my home.”

  Dark wrinkled his nose. “Home?”

  Norwyn circled the roof on a flat portion of the Hall near the back. “All will become clear soon, old friend.”

  Dark followed as Norwyn landed on the roof. The roof consisted of strong gray shingles. A giant, dragon-shaped, golden double door lay a few yards ahead.

  A man was waiting for them. He watched the dragons land, his arms folded. He was bald and wore a navy suit.

  Dark smelled thick, musky cologne. He knew this man from somewhere but couldn’t recognize where.

  “It took you long enough,” Ennius Grimoire said.

  Norwyn nodded. He whispered to Dark. “This is the governor. I’ll tell you more later.”

  Sage, Brownigan and Lister parted from Dark, and Ennius strode across the roof with a wide grin.

  “Mr. Dark, it is quite an honor. We have a lot to discuss.”

  XIX

  Miri waited impatiently on the street corner as the clouds poured down rain.

  “Hurry up,” she whispered.

  Above, the giant television screens played advertisements and the news, and people passed underneath. The rain streaked the screens, but they were so bright that it didn’t affect their resolution.

  A political ad for Governor Grimoire played on the largest screen.

  Ennius for Governor. The wisdom to lead.

  Miri wrinkled her nose in disgust.

  Her phone rang. Surprisingly, it was Celesse.

  Miri scrambled for the phone.

  “Celesse?” Miri asked.

  “Miri, where are you?”

  “I’m downtown. How are things?”

  “It’s as bad as we expected.”

  “Is Lucan—”

  “He’s okay. They released him. But he’s going to be indicted, Miri.”

  “My god. What about Earl? You?”

  “He won’t face any charges and neither will I. Don’t worry. Have you found Old Dark?”

  Miri sighed as she looked up at the screens. “Not yet. But I’m working on it.”

  Why won’t you change the screens already! I paid you enough to expedite it!

  “The reason I’m calling is because Lucan said he got a strange call from his bank. Something about someone authorizing a six thousand spira charge to his advertisement account? Was that you?”

  “It was me,” Miri said. “It should pay for itself.” She placed the phone on her shoulder and yelled at the screen. “Come on!”

  “Miri? Are you okay?

  “I’m fine. It’s just—well, long story, Celesse.”

  The television screens flickered and then turned off. Passersby stopped and looked up. The street might as well have been completely dark.

  “Yes!” Miri said, jumping into the air.

  “Miri, are you going to tell me what’s going on? You’re acting strange.”

  “I’m working on the plan,” Miri said. “I had to improvise.”

  “Improvising costs six thousand spiras?”

  “Turn on the news in about an hour, and you’ll see why.”

  Celesse was quiet.

  “Celesse?” Miri asked, uncomfortable with the silence, “How are we doing, plan-wise? Should I be worried?”

  After a brief hesitation, Celesse said “Just focus on finding Dar
k. If you need to spend any more money, just text me first.”

  The television screens flashed on and washed the street with light again. Miri shielded her eyes, and when they adjusted to the light, she smiled.

  All of the screens displayed a white background with an emblem.

  An emblem of a black dragon.

  Old Dark.

  “Yes!” Miri cried. “Celesse, I’ve got to go.”

  They hung up, and Miri watched as people stopped and murmured, pointing at the screens.

  “What does it mean?” someone asked.

  Miri smiled as the rain soaked her.

  She hoped she wouldn’t have to wait too long.

  XX

  “I trust that you found my city to be many things if not breathtaking,” Ennius Grimoire said.

  Dark glanced at Norwyn, who nodded to him slowly. It was a safe look, one that told him it was okay, and that he didn’t need to rip the man’s throat out. Then he responded. “It is many things, indeed, but breathtaking would not have been the first thing that came to mind, elder.”

  “Call me Ennius,” the governor said. “Ennius Grimoire. I know it may seem strange that an elven man like me is talking to you in this way, but trust me—you’ll find that we will work very well together.”

  Who was this man, talking to him like he was an equal? How disgusting! With his bald head, regal stature and deep voice, he carried himself like an elder. Dark had worked with elders...many elders. But they of course had to bow to him, first.

  This man would never call him my lord. Dark knew that from the moment he saw him. He was what dragons in the old times used to call a ‘stubborn elder.’ They did not obey, they did not listen, they did nothing that pleased a dragon until they were dead.

  “Did you say your name was Grimoire?”

  “If you’re referring to Lucan, he’s my nephew.”

  Dark roared long and loud in the governor’s face. Ennius closed his eyes and looked away in disgust.

  Norwyn jumped between them. “Stop, my lord.”

  “Stop!” Dark screamed. He swiped in Ennius’s direction but the governor reached into his pocket quickly and a purple shield sprung up between them. Dark hit the shield and it flashed, knocking him across the roof, tearing up shingles.

 

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