Old Wicked (The Last Dragon Lord Book 3)

by Michael La Ronn

  Then the dragons tossed grenades into the air.

  “Get out of here!” Earl screamed to the pilot.

  The helicopter fanned away just as the rooftop exploded.

  “We’ve got to follow them,” Miri said.

  By the time the smoke cleared, the dragons were far, far away. Another group of dragons had joined them. They looked as if they had flown up from the gardens to join Dark.

  “There’s no use,” Earl said. “We’ll never catch them. And I suspect they’ll use more antics to cover their trail. Damn it!”

  Miri put her arms around Celesse, was crying uncontrollably.

  The helicopter circled the burning roof once more before swinging down toward the gardens.

  XXXIV

  They buried Lucan on the eve of the election. Miri, Celesse and Earl watched tearfully as a boom arm lowered his casket into freshly dug earth.

  Miri rubbed Celesse’s shoulders.

  It didn’t seem real.

  For the last few days she had walked around numb, not believing that it could really happen. Her mind wandered back to the first time she met Lucan. Confident and extroverted, he strode through a university banquet because he had donated a million spiras to the school’s endowment. He shook her hand, said her name, and then five minutes later, didn’t remember that he’d even met her. She didn’t dislike him for it, but she didn’t take him seriously.

  They’d met a few times after that, but it was that first encounter that she would never forget.

  And the last.

  His bowtie undone and hanging around his neck. The scowl on his face when he crumpled it up and threw it onto the grass. He’d refused to listen to her, and she felt powerless as he stomped toward the skyscraper.

  She should have done something. She should have told him about Norwyn. She should have grabbed him.

  But she didn’t.

  She let him die.

  A pastor said final remarks for Lucan. Miri looked back to a sea of cameras and reporters covering the event. The tall buildings surrounding the cemetery were rain-slicked and seemed to be crying, too.

  She remembered his voice. She remembered when he had followed her for two blocks in the Half Eight, waiting for the right time to proposition her. He came off as a total creeper, talking to her from the shadows of his car. He’d gotten out and leaned against the side of the car, smelling like he’d just gotten out of the shower. Eucalyptus and lavender. He always wore his hair slightly wet and with tons of pomade. And his green eyes. And how he sometimes buttoned his shirts wrong.

  All that money and he couldn’t button his shirt.

  Miri smiled.

  “Thank you all for coming,” the pastor said.

  The crowd began to disperse. Celesse asked for a moment and stood at the casket with her arms folded. Miri watched as she spoke to the casket, and then put her fingers to her lips. She placed them tenderly on the casket, hesitated, and then mustered up the strength to turn away. Earl hooked his arm in hers as they walked.

  “How are you holding up?” Miri asked.

  Celesse shook her head.

  “He would have wanted us to keep fighting,” Miri said.

  “The campaign? It’s over. I’ve let all the staff go.”

  “No. Old Dark.”

  Celesse sighed. “This wasn’t in the plan, Miri,” she said. “There is no plan anymore.”

  They walked through the grassy cemetery in silence.

  “He said he was going to marry me that night,” Celesse said. “Funny. After three years of getting him to say he loved me, he decided to do that.”

  “He did love you, Celesse. I could tell.”

  “I guess it doesn’t matter anymore,” Celesse said. “When you live on the wild side like we did, this is one of the inevitable results.”

  “How is Madelaide?” Miri asked.

  “Completely traumatized,” Celesse said. “She’s not herself. Even Ennius is sullen.” She looked at Miri. “Now that the dragon got his revenge, what’s next?”

  “I don’t know,” Miri said. “I really don’t know.”

  “I can’t do this anymore,” Celesse said.

  “But—”

  “You should give up, too,” Celesse said. “The dragon will meet his end sooner or later. Getting involved any more than we have is just a death wish, Miri.”

  “But—”

  “The Hall of Governance is dropping all of the charges related to the incident at the bogs. You, me and Earl are cleared. Take advantage of it, okay?”

  Miri didn’t know what to say. “And do what? I’m jobless, I’m broke, and a good friend of mine is dead now. And I’m supposed to just walk away?”

  Celesse gave her a look of consolation. She fought back tears. “Sometimes you’ve just got to move on.”

  Celesse unhooked from Earl and walked away.

  “What about you, Earl?” Miri asked.

  Earl took off his cap sadly. “Miss, it’s been my pleasure. But in a time like this, I’ve got to be with my family. They’ve been scared to death over me.”

  Miri nodded. “I understand.”

  “We’ll keep in touch, you and I. Maybe one day I’ll have you over and you can meet my wife and my lovely kids.”

  “I would like that.”

  Earl extended his hand; Miri shook it and then pulled Earl into a big hug. Then he put his cap on, said goodbye and hurried after Celesse.

  Miri stood staring after him on the winding dirt path as it began to rain.

  She looked up at the clouds. Why was she always stuck in the rain?

  She didn’t know what she was going to do. She stuffed her hands in her raincoat and walked the other direction.

  Whatever she was going to do, at least she had nothing to lose.

  XXXV

  Fenroot grinned as the flat shores of the western continent came into view. Fog rolled off the shore, making the continent look mysterious in the ocean waves. Gulls flew perpendicularly over a beach, flocking in fear of what was to come. The gray, choppy waters seemed to mirror Fenroot’s emotions exactly.

  Moss flew next to him with an arrogant look on his face.

  Behind him, an army of thousands. Keepers and Crafters, carrying elves. As far as the eye could see—the ocean was covered in a blanket of dragons.

  A motor droned in the distance. A helicopter circled a beach. Inside were men with cameras, filming the army’s coming.

  Fenroot laughed as he trained his sights ahead for the beach.

  The helicopter fanned away from him, as if afraid. He roared to make a statement.

  He was the first to touch down on the beach.

  This beach was symbolic.

  It was the same beach where he had launched his attack on Old Dark a thousand years ago. A fitting way to end his rival.

  Fenroot landed and spread his wings. His army of dragons landed in the waters behind him, menacing looks on their faces. The air filled with smoke from their breaths.

  A white orb danced in the air around Fenroot. He cocked an eye at it, looking at it curiously. The orb circled him, making a constant shuttering sound. With a swipe of his claw, he knocked the orb into the sand, but it rolled and rose into the air again, still shuttering.

  The helicopter flew overhead and Fenroot roared again, and all of the dragons followed, shaking the area with hellish noise unlike anything the world had seen. The elves cheered, pumping their fists full of magic, and Fenroot guessed that the war cries could be heard for miles.

  Slowly, the noise died down.

  Fenroot looked up at the news helicopter and shouted “I, your true dragon lord, have returned. And I will not leave until I have Old Dark’s head.”

  Intermezzo

  The city mourned Lucan’s death. He was a long shot in the gubernatorial race, but he offered a new vision of the world.

  A world with responsible magic use.

  A world where the aquifer flourished.

  A world where dragons, elves, and huma
ns could live peacefully and not fear global consequences of eroding the world’s most precious resource.

  He railed against what he called the “failed policies” of his uncle—a governor who only cared about maintaining power and the status quo.

  The city had been mesmerized by his plain-spoken if not sometimes foul-mouthed message. It didn’t matter what he said—the public supported him.

  His uncle was popular, but not unbeatable, for there were many in the city who did not believe he was doing enough to head off the coming magical crisis.

  A world where magic had to be rationed…

  A world where you had to have a permit to use magic…

  A world ultimately, where magic didn’t exist…

  This was the reality under another Ennius Grimoire administration, a stark vision that Lucan cautioned against.

  When the news came out that Lucan had violated the Magical Lands Act, it was widely accepted that his numbers would fall. He had gotten to within just a few points of his uncle, but this surely was going to end his campaign.

  But there was not enough time to conduct proper polling.

  All around the city, people offered their opinions about what he’d done. Some said he was a monster who deserved to be in a cage, himself. Others turned an indifferent eye to it, saying that it had nothing to do with his ability to solve the magical crisis. In fact, it helped show the world that he was capable of some amazing things. Sure, he made some mistakes, but far more mistakes had been made that got the world into a magical crisis.

  On the morning of Lucan’s funeral, several days after the scandal was leaked, the first polls began to emerge.

  Before, Lucan had been just a few points behind.

  The polls, which were behind a few days and didn’t reflect his passing, showed him a dead heat with his uncle, within the standard margin of error.

  But now that he was dead, Ennius was sure to win.

  And so ended a contentious chapter in Magic Hope City politics. Its citizens would always wonder what could have happened if the city’s brightest beacon of hope had shone just a little longer.

  ACT IV

  XXXVI

  “How bad is it, Norwyn?” Dark asked.

  In the Abstraction Chamber, he watched footage of Fenroot’s army landing on the beach. He narrowed his eyes at the sight of the swarthy, silver dragon. And Moss, flying next to him with a smug look on his face! Dark would soon change that.

  “I knew that killing Moss’s offspring would make him go run to Fenroot,” Dark said, frowning, “That was my plan all along. But I wasn’t expecting both of them to return with an army.”

  It was the largest army he’d ever seen. It dwarfed anything he’d ever been able to amass as dragon lord. Thousands and thousands of warriors. All ready to kill him. “He’s been preparing all these years to eradicate me, hmm? Well, I won’t go easily. I won’t go at all!” He looked at Norwyn, who was engaged in multi-consciousness. The white dragon’s eyes were closed, and hundreds of voices from his orbs whispered in his ears as a montage of television screens streamed events from all over the city.

  “I don’t understand how you can process any of that information, Norwyn,” Dark said. “What you’re doing looks absolutely dreadful.”

  “The city has devolved into unrest,” Norwyn said. “Everyone is scared.”

  “The battle is with me, not the city,” Dark said.

  “Uncertainty breeds fear,” Norwyn said. “Fenroot is gathering his army on the beach right now. We’ll need to take some quick action.”

  “What do you recommend?” Dark asked.

  “We’ll need to set up a protection barrier around the city. It won’t last very long, but it will buy us time.”

  “And how in heavens are we supposed to do that?”

  “Dragons in Abstraction. You’ll need to address them.”

  “Why should I address them?” Dark asked.

  “You are going to need as many dragons as possible on your side.”

  Dark gestured to the gang of dragons behind him. They were all watching the news. “Are traditional dragons not acceptable? You said there were many more supporters of mine. How many?”

  “Not enough,” Norwyn said. “We don’t get out of this alive without unified support.” The white dragon unplugged himself from his giant computer panel and opened his eyes. They looked tired and worn. “You were upset that dragons in Abstraction didn’t know who you were, right?”

  “Of course,” Dark said. “The entire world should know my majesty.”

  “Then this is your chance to show them who you are.”

  “What will their objections be?” Dark asked.

  “Are you prepared to hear the truth of what we must do?” Norwyn asked.

  Dark grinned, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re putting me up to a little scheme.”

  ***

  “It won’t work,” Ennius said, shaking his head. “It’s a terrible strategy, Norwyn.”

  The governor stood in the Abstraction Chamber with them, watching the screens with concern. “Courting dragons in Abstraction? It’s ludicrous. I just received the first intelligence briefing on this. There may be a better way.”

  “Help me understand then,” Norwyn said, wrinkling up his face. “You think our small police force and national guard are going to protect the city?”

  “I never said that,” Ennius said. “But it’s a major risk reaching out to dragons in Abstraction. They have juvenile minds. They’re not—”

  Norwyn roared at him, and the wind knocked the governor on his back.

  “This is a dragon’s war,” Norwyn said. “And it will be waged by dragons, unless you want to be responsible for the destruction of the city.”

  “Who are you kidding?” Ennius asked, laughing. “I know there’s going to be collateral. But I am the governor, not you. I know what’s best—”

  Norwyn pointed to his computer screens. “Is that right, governor? I know more about this city than you ever will.”

  “Then why didn’t you know that Fenroot was coming?” Ennius asked.

  “What if I did?”

  Dark watched the bickering with disdain. Did they argue this way all the time? He didn’t understand how Norwyn put up with it. While he sometimes appreciated honest dissent, authority was not something to be routinely challenged.

  “Mr. Dark,” Ennius said, crawling backward until he was able to pull himself up, “What do you think about all of this?”

  Dark smirked. “What do I think, Governor? That’s a very considerate question.”

  He remembered Norwyn’s comment about how sometimes the best answer to a question was another question.

  “I have not made up my mind about this terrible ordeal, Governor. Tell me—what do you think about all of this?”

  Ennius nodded. “Well, the answer is in strength. We have magical defense facilities, you know. Norwyn probably failed to tell you that. And my nephew had several magical production factories in the city that we can appropriate. We can mass-produce grimoires, arm citizens, and use our aquifer storage to launch an attack.”

  “Ah, Lucan,” Dark said blankly. “I can’t help but think that he might have been a useful tool in this situation. But alas. Norwyn! What the governor says sounds reasonable to me. Can we not merge both attack and defense into our strategy?”

  Norwyn scowled. “Very well, my lord.”

  “What of the elves and humans in the city?” Dark asked.

  “The citizens are looking for leadership,” Ennius said. “I will provide that. No need to worry.”

  “But what about the rest of the Governance?” Dark asked. “Aren’t there other representatives of authority?”

  “I’ll be calling an emergency Governance session tonight,” Ennius said. “I don’t want to get them involved until we have a strategy in place. Two hundred elves in a room is not conducive to planning.”

  “Ah, now that is true leadership!” Dark said. “Lea
d from the top. Very good, Governor. Your emergency session—I would like to be there,” Dark said.

  “That would not be wise, Mr. Dark—”

  “He’ll be there,” Norwyn said, sneaking a side-long glance at Dark behind Ennius’s back. “Whether you like it or not, Governor, we’ll be making the decisions from now on.”

  XXXVII

  Alvia pushed her way through a crowd in the downtown district. People were standing and pointing up at large television screens on the side of a skyscraper.

  For the first time in three weeks, she saw the face of Leader—Fenroot himself stretching his wings as he stood on the beach. And behind him, the dragons and elves she had known her entire life.

  She couldn’t help but think...had she stayed in the compound just a few days longer, she would have been among them. She would have been just as stoic and obedient as them, without question.

  Alvia felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Tony.

  “Hey, you run fast,” he said. He looked up at the screen, saw Fenroot, and said “Yikes.”

  Pepper barked at the screen as a Fenroot began to speak.

  “Citizens of Magic Hope City,” the silver dragon said, “I, your dragon lord, have returned. And I am here for one reason: Old Dark lives. He walks among you, in hiding. As long as he does, this world is in mortal danger. You don’t know what he is capable of. Hand him over to me, and I promise that this season of fear will soon pass. I want every one of you searching every corner of this city for him. I want his head! For every day I do not have it, my soldiers will tear the city apart. I have trained them well, my friends, but I cannot promise that there will not be casualties. If you fear for your lives, if you fear for your families, if you fear for the life of your dear city, then you know now exactly what you must do. I’ll be waiting.”

  Two dragons behind Fenroot roared and lunged at the cameras. The footage went staticky, and then the screens turned black.

  “The day has come,” Alvia whispered to herself. She fingered the gold necklace around her neck. “The Great Darkness is here.”