“I don’t envy Ennius,” Amal said. “He’s got an impossible job now.”
“Talk about dodging a big problem,” Demetrius said.
They inched forward a little in traffic.
“You know what bothers me about it all?” Amal asked. “The fact that we’ll never know the real numbers.”
“The election is tomorrow,” Demetrius said. “I mean, maybe, just maybe, all of this will be over by then? Talk about turnout. It’ll be incredible—if everybody doesn’t flee or end up dead.”
“And if it doesn’t?” Amal asked. “And if Lucan hadn’t died?”
“Well, you would’ve lost big time,” Demetrius said. “But if the election were held today? I don’t know, I guess.”
“Neither do I,” Amal said.
“Good thing we’ve got our cabin on the south shore,” Demetrius said. “From what I could tell, Fenroot’s army isn’t down there. We’ll be safe there until this is over.”
Amal took comfort in thinking about the cabin. In this tumultuous election, she hadn’t slept much. Even though her chances of winning were impossible, she worked just as hard as Lucan and Ennius. It would be nice to relax and be a citizen again. And spend time with Demetrius. They’d be stuck to the news reports, but at least they’d be together.
“Might as well get comfortable,” Amal said, putting on her sunglasses. She let the convertible top down as Demetrius laid back and rested his eyes.
***
They reached a checkpoint two hours later. The police had set up a perimeter and were questioning cars.
They asked every car the same question. “You sure you want to leave?”
They took identification of every car. Amal wondered why they were doing this.
“Must be so the government can know who it can count on when they have to start rebuilding,” Demetrius said.
Amal rolled up to a checkpoint, and an elven police officer asked for her ID. She was relieved that he didn’t recognize her. That would have made this even more awkward.
But the man’s eyes widened when he recognized her name.
“Please wait right here,” he said, walking away.
“What the hell?” Demetrius asked. “They didn’t do this to anyone else.”
Amal’s nerves got to her. She opened the door and marched toward the officer.
“Amal!” Demetrius said. “Come on. Stop.”
“Excuse me,” she said to the officer.
A group of men in guns swarmed out of a nearby black van and surrounded her and Demetrius.
“Uh…baby, I told you this wasn’t a good idea,” Demetrius said, putting his hands up.
The officer stepped back as an elven man in black stepped forward, showing her an I.D.—Edwil Dolingreen.
“Mrs. Amal Shalewood?” he asked.
“Y-Yes, that’s me.”
“M’am, you and your husband need to come with us.”
“Why?” Amal asked angrily. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
The men in black grabbed her and Demetrius forcefully and pushed them into a nearby sedan. When the doors were closed, Edwil produced a grimoire and used a spell to tint the windows. Then he said gravely, “Mrs. Shalewood, we’ve been looking all over for you. Governor Ennius Grimoire is dead. The Hall of Governance has fallen. By default, you are now the governor-elect of Magic Hope City.”
XLI
“Are you sure this is going to work?” Dark asked as he sat in Norwyn’s Abstraction Chamber, watching a dozen television screens as Norwyn’s orbs traveled through the interiors of several skyscrapers. The orbs were flying at a dizzying speed and it was hard for Dark to follow them.
“We don’t have much time,” Norwyn said.
Cameras and lights were set up all around him. A white background was draped behind him. For several minutes he had stared at his new surroundings, trying to figure them out. What strange instrumentalities of the future were these?
He’d seen something similar in Frog’s studio but didn’t think to ask the question then.
“Well, your plan has gone smoothly so far,” Dark said. “The little scheme with the Governance? Magnificent! It’s better than I could have thought up myself!”
“I’ve been waiting to get rid of the governor,” Norwyn said. “To be honest, a Lucan administration would have been a nice change.”
Dark harrumphed.
“There won’t need to be any more violence,” Norwyn said. “Just pragmatism from now on.”
The white dragon groaned. Multi-consciousness was clearly wearing on him. “Now it is time to unite dragons in Abstraction. As you can see, I’ve sent my orbs ahead. You will be meeting with key dragons for five minute intervals.”
“Five minutes? Why, that’s barely enough time to clear my throat.”
“You need to convince them to use their Abstractions. Don’t monologue them. They’re not like traditional dragons, my lord. They like their conversations to the point.”
“And then?”
“Sage, Brownigan, Lister, Redtail and the rest are in position after each conversation. All you have to do is talk. They’ll handle the rest.”
“Just as they funneled in the gas!” Dark exclaimed. “Ah, it feels good to have my entourage back. These are the kinds of dragons that made my reign legendary!”
Norwyn didn’t respond. He strained, leaning toward the television screens.
Dark looked at him with a mix of concern and pity. “Norwyn, when this is all over, we’ve got to talk about your health. You look absolutely terrible.”
“It looks worse than it is.”
“I don’t know how it could look any worse.”
“Look directly at the cameras, my lord,” Norwyn said.
“This business of ignoring me, Norwyn, I won’t tolerate it—”
“I’m not ignoring you,” Norwyn said. “As I said, look at the cameras.”
Dark looked at the row of cameras before him. “Now what?”
“Smile.”
Dark frowned. “I don’t appreciate humor in a time like this.”
“Then don’t smile,” Norwyn said blankly. “But get ready.”
“Ready for what?”
“Your transmission begins—”
“Transmission? I thought we were going to talk to them physically—”
“Be quiet and look at the camera, my lord.”
“Norwyn!”
“Transmission begins in three, two, one….”
***
Dark focused on the television screen directly in front of him.
Norwyn’s orb entered a large chamber that looked like a cave. The walls were made of rock and and the chamber was dimly lit. Dark didn’t know how anyone or anything could see in such a place. A distant dripping of water underscored the silence.
“You are on the ninety-fifth floor of the Eden Building,” Norwyn said. “Don’t worry, the dragon can’t hear me. By the way, she’s one thousand years old.”
“But where is she?” Dark asked.
The orb rotated, giving him a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view of the chamber.
“I’m up here,” a voice said.
The orb looked up to see a pair of purple, reptilian eyes embedded in the ceiling.
“What have you come for, Norwyn?” Eden asked. The eyes slid back and forth across the rocky ceiling. The irises were like narrow slits in a gemstone. “If you haven’t noticed, I am busy.”
The orb beeped, and the sound took Dark aback.
“Your hologram is now being projected,” Norwyn said. “She will be able to see your facial expressions.”
Dark closed his mouth to avoid showing Eden his jaws agape.
“Ehrm….”
“You brought the dragon lord,” Eden said. “You have betrayed your position, white dragon.”
Norwyn said nothing. With his tail, he budged Dark.
“Well! Yes...I must.…”
“I have nothing to say to you other than farewell
,” Eden said. “You are the cause of this city’s problems.”
“The cause!” Dark said. His voice echoed throughout the chamber, and bats rushed from the ceiling out a small square hole in the ceiling.
Eden blinked at him.
“My dear,” Dark said, slowly finding his rhythm. “May I ask what your Abstraction is?”
“I watch over the Night District,” she said. “All of the night markets belong to me.”
“Ah, that must be an important undertaking.”
He had no idea what a night market was, nor did he care.
“This city depends on me, as it depends on all of my brothers and sisters in Abstraction.”
“And your magic?”
“What magic?” Eden asked. “My strength lies within. You could call me the patron saint of the night, old one. Inside me are thousands of jobs and homes. Elves flock within me to see theatre. And I provide comfort to the homeless by giving them a place to sleep. I would be a god but for the limitations of this world….”
Such arrogance and insolence!
“My dear, I do not doubt your importance,” Dark said. “But may I also ask—what will you do when it all goes away?”
“Fenroot will not take it away.”
“You are not old enough to remember me,” Dark said. “But you’re also not old enough to remember Fenroot. He will not protect your way of life. I can.”
“How, old one?”
“I have no problem with dragons in Abstraction,” Dark said. “Far from it.” He glanced around the cavern. “In fact, I have come to admire your sensibilities and your potential.”
“You are just talking!”
“No, no. Let me finish: you see, I have also come to admire this culture. I would like to see it thrive. All while protecting the aquifer. You gave up your share, did you not?”
“Many years ago, old one.”
“Wouldn’t it be something to get it back?” Dark asked, grinning. “Wouldn’t it be glorious to reclaim our God-given power?”
“I have all the power I need,” Eden said.
“When Fenroot brings his army into the city and begins killing your precious elves, the ones that you depend on for your power, you’ll have another opinion entirely, my dear.”
The eyes flashed. Instantly, an orange Keeper dragon appeared on the ceiling. She crawled onto the wall and scaled down it like a goat scaling down the side of a precarious mountain. She reached the cool, rocky floor and stalked toward Dark.
Dark was glad that he was a hologram—she was menacing despite being such a young dragon.
“I’m listening, elder…”
***
“Good job,” Norwyn said.
Dark shook his head. The screen was hard on his eyes and he wanted to rest. And he was only done with his first appointment. He’d found negotiating with a dragon in Abstraction a challenge both mentally and physically.
“What a feisty young girl,” Dark said. “She’ll be a good asset to our team.”
“That’s why I selected her first,” Norwyn said. “These conversations will get progressively more difficult, my lord.”
“I wish you hadn’t told me that.”
“Would you rather find out the hard way?”
Dark made a pained face. “Why do you insist on being so defiant today?”
“Are you ready?” Norwyn asked.
“Ready for what?”
“Your next transmission.”
“What?! Not so quickly. I just disconnected with her—”
“Standby for transmission.”
“Norwyn, damn you, I said I’m not ready yet!”
“Three, two, one…”
***
The television screen revealed a roof this time. Tall, prairie grass swayed in the wind. In the fiery dusk, a long string of traffic moved toward the south, trying to exit the city. The skies were surprisingly quiet.
Norwyn’s orb rotated, giving Dark a full view of the area.
He recognized this roof. Had he not slept here on his first free night in the city? And he remembered the dragon…
The orb continued its rotation, bringing a large wireframe tower into view. It was shaped like a Crafter dragon with its mouth open in mid-roar. A beacon on the dragon’s tongue blinked red, and he knew immediately that he was being watched.
Dark blinked hard, trying to ready himself for the encounter.
The orb beeped, displaying Dark’s hologram.
He knew the cue.
“Good to see you again,” Dark said, addressing the tower.
The tower shifted, and the dragon mouth spoke.
“You look familiar…”
Dark laughed. “You helped me a few nights ago, my dear.”
“I don’t remember you,” the tower said.
Dark remembered that he had changed his color on that night. “Perhaps this will help you remember.” He twirled a claw and changed his color momentarily to silver. “One thing is clear, my dear—my guardian of communication, hmm? I will not forget your kindness in helping me on that fateful night.”
The metal tower spoke, this time in a patchwork of hundreds of different voices. She sounded of dragons, elves, metallic and real. “I do remember you now.”
“I know that it will seem rude coming here to ask for another favor, but I need some more help.”
The metal tower swirled into the form of a large, purple Crafter who curled up like a snake, scrutinizing Dark. “You are the dragon lord.”
“Indeed. I don’t believe we ever introduced ourselves. I had a good reason for avoiding it at the time. Your name is Gemma, is it not?”
The Crafter nodded.
“And you are, if I remember correctly—”
Dark glanced at Norwyn who mouthed her age. “One thousand five hundred years, correct?”
“You have a good memory, elder.”
“Ha! Far from it. But when it comes to remembering those who have helped me, my memory is infallible…”
***
Dark stood up and walked away from the Abstraction Chamber. He had spoken to fifteen dragons already and he was exhausted.
“I can’t do this anymore,” Dark said.
“It’s over now,” Norwyn said. He opened his eyes. “Very nice job, my lord. The entourage will take care of the rest.”
“Will they all support me?” Dark asked.
“Your logic was convincing enough, but no. There will be some who will not follow you. We have to expect that.”
“We planned for that, didn’t we?” Dark asked.
Norwyn stood and stretched. “Yes, my lord. It’s time to activate the protection barrier. We can count on at least enough support to get it going.”
“I hope you’re right,” Dark said. He watched the televisions of Fenroot’s army on the beach.
They were advancing.
“Norwyn, there is a dragon that was left off your list,” Dark said.
“Who?” Then Norwyn shook his head and said, “No, my lord. We’re not doing this—”
“I demand it,” Dark said.
Norwyn sighed and hooked himself back up to the machine.
Dark waited patiently for Norwyn’s orb to fly across town. It eventually landed on the roof of The Frog Building.
Frog was brooding on a lily pad.
The orb beeped, and Frog looked up to see Dark’s smiling face.
***
A dragon scurried frantically onto the roof of his skyscraper, looking around.
No dragon lord was going to tell him what to do!
For five minutes he had to sit and listen to the damned lord, talking as if he were so full of himself.
“I need your support….” he said.
Support!
Old Dark was a fragment of the past.
Abstraction was a fragment of the future. Who knew what was certain to happen, but it didn’t have to involve the dragon lord.
He had to tell the others. Surely they wouldn’t be falling for these
language tricks!
He checked the roof.
There was no one there.
Quickly, he spread his wings, ready to take to the sky.
POW!
A brick hit him in the wings, and he tumbled to the ground.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Redtail and a group of dragons emerged from the neighboring high-rise. Their eyes glowed in the dusk light.
The dragon hissed. “What do you want?”
“Were you honored by the conversation with our lord?” Redtail asked.
The dragon growled.
“You will support him, won’t you?” Redtail and his dragons jumped onto the roof and circled him. “Because it would be a shame if you didn’t.”
The dragon looked around.
Something red appeared in Redtail’s hands.
“We can’t use too much magic right now,” Redtail said. “So this will have to do.” He held up a string of dynamite.
The dragon’s eyes widened.
“If this building goes up, so do you,” Redtail said. “Do you feel guilty for selling your shares of the aquifer yet? I would hate to be as vulnerable as you are right now….”
Redtail and the other dragons laughed.
In the distance, an explosion rocked a skyscraper. It blew the top floor clean off, and smoke billowed from it. The wail of a dragon filled the sky, and the skyscraper began to crumble.
Redtail watched the carnage. “We don’t need a repeat of that, do we?”
The dragon shook his head.
Redtail tossed up a stick of dynamite and caught it. “Good to hear, my brother. Now it’s time to follow orders.”
XLII
Miri flipped up her coat collar to hide her face as she moved down the streets of the Half Eight.
A car next to her was burning.
She shook her head in disdain as a group of teenage elves ran past.
A distant ambulance seemed to be making it toward the street she was on.
She pulled her purse closer and hurried her pace. Her apartment was only a few blocks away, and it was the only place where she could count on her safety.
Old Wicked (The Last Dragon Lord Book 3) Page 15