She had been on a northbound bus when the news hit. On the magicked windows of the bus, she watched as Fenroot delivered his speech. She almost spilled her coffee all over herself.
She thought that Dark would surely have taken care of Fenroot the Brute.
She was wrong.
Fenroot had brought the fight to Magic Hope City. It was worse than she thought.
All day, she had been looking for jobs. She even resorted to wanted ads in the paper, carrying them in her purse.
Every place turned her away. No one wanted a half human, half elven woman with a master’s degree. For a while she entertained applying for a job at Gavlin’s. They would have taken her without question, and she could have used the money to figure out what she was going to do.
But it just didn’t seem right.
She passed under a flickering street light. A roaring Crafter dragon fell out of the sky and smashed into street, leaving multiple craters in the road. The dragon closed its eyes and let out a final breath.
Miri gasped as a Keeper dragon flew overhead, blood on its teeth and its wings flapping furiously.
“That’s for supporting Old Dark!” the dragon said.
“My God,” Miri said. She wanted to run but to do so might make her an unnecessary target.
She breathed in deeply and counted to keep her mind off her fear.
“One magic shoe, two magic shoes, three magic shoes—”
Someone ran from behind a car and into her path. It was an elven man.
“Help!” he cried.
Miri’s heart raced. “What’s wrong?”
“Are you with Old Dark?” he asked. “Do you know where he is?”
Miri stammered.
“My son! He’s in the hospital!”
“What does your son—”
“If the city is attacked, he won’t get the care that he needs!”
He reached for her. “You’ve got to help me!”
Miri reached into her purse and sprayed the man with magicked pepper spray. He screamed painfully, clutching his eyes as he collapsed on the asphalt.
“My son!” he cried. “My son!”
Miri backed away from the man at first, but she broke into a run, her necklaces jangling.
People were getting desperate.
They were losing their logic.
Why should she have to suffer because of it?
She turned a corner, stopped as a group of men and women formed a line blocking the street.
“No one passes unless they can give us a tip on Old Dark!”
Miri changed direction.
She ran through a dark alley and emerged on the other side.
Her apartment was one block over. She stopped and listened.
It sounded quiet. The smell of fire was in the air.
She pulled the pepper spray into plain sight. Anyone who wanted to hurt her would get some. She wasn’t going to be scared anymore.
She ran and turned the corner to her street and the hair on the back of her neck stood up.
Glass shattered above.
Miri dove under a nearby car as something thudded near the tires of the car. The wind blew and she heard what she thought were pages rustling.
Hurried footsteps sounded next to the car.
Then she saw what had been thrown.
Books. Beautiful hardcover books with gold leaf edges.
Thud!
Another stack of books landed on the ground near the car. She read one of the spines: History and Economics in the Reign of Old Dark.
A chill suffused through her body as she read the title.
She knew the book.
It was hers.
A hand snatched up the book and she heard pages rustle.
Then, she heard a long tearing sound that broke her heart.
A woman’s voice. “You think this good enough?”
A man’s voice spoke from higher up. In her apartment. “Take the whole thing just to be safe.”
“The world’ll be over by the time it takes me to read this!”
She knew the voices.
They were her next-door neighbors. They knew she was a college professor, and they knew that she studied Old Dark.
She wanted to cry for being so naïve. She should have never talked to them. She should have just left them alone like her parents always said she should. “There’s no good from knowing your neighbors,” her dad had said once before he died. “It just complicates things.”
Miri couldn’t let her neighbors see her. That would complicate things.
“We’ll take some of these books to the dragons on Brook Street,” the woman said. “Maybe they can use this information.”
Miri waited for the neighbors to leave. She did not crawl out from under the car until their footsteps were long gone.
She looked up at her apartment building. The pizza parlor below was shuttered. All her windows were broken and the curtains blew in the wind.
She couldn’t go up there.
It was too dangerous.
Her head swam as she thought about what to do next.
She didn’t know.
A whiny bark distracted her from her thoughts.
She turned around. A small firedog stood in the street, barking at her.
She reached into her pocket. She only had one grimoire left.
What was a firedog doing in the middle of the city?
Miri backed away, but the dog approached.
“Don’t come any closer!” she cried.
A distant voice told her to stop.
At the other end of the street, a blue-haired elven woman and a familiar-looking elven boy ran around the corner, catching up with the dog. The girl wore white robes and clearly looked out of place in the city. She knelt and spoke to the dog in a friendly voice. “Good job, girl.” Then she looked up at Miri.
The elven boy slid to a stop. “You’re Miri, right?”
Miri pulled out the grimoire but the boy held up his hands. “Hey, stop. We’re not here to hurt you,” he said, holding up his hands. “We need your help.”
XLIII
“What do you mean I’m the governor-elect?” Amal asked.
It still didn’t feel real. In fact, it felt like a joke. Like the media was playing a cruel joke.
The car started rolling as Edwil Dolingreen spoke into a communicator on his wrist. “We’ve got them. Let’s move.”
Demetrius pointed back to their red convertible. “What about our car?”
“Your car will be fine, sir,” Edwil said.
Amal rubbed her forehead. “None of this makes any sense.”
“The dragon known as Old Dark has taken over the Hall of Governance. He gathered the governor and all the senators and he executed them.”
“Damn,” Demetrius said.
Amal gasped.
“The election would have been tomorrow,” Edwil said. “But you are the only candidate remaining. Your transition must begin now.”
“I never imagined this could happen,” Amal said.
Demetrius rubbed her shoulder. “Well, baby—that big problem we talked about? It’s yours, now.”
Edwil nodded. “Congratulations, Mrs. Governor. You’re the first human governor of Magic Hope City. It’s an impressive accomplishment, though I wish it were under better circumstances.”
“If the Hall of Governance has fallen,” Amal asked, “where are we going?”
“To an undisclosed, secure location where you’ll govern from in the meantime. We’ll need to give you a briefing and go over some basics about your protection detail.”
***
For their safety, Edwil had to blindfold Amal and Demetrius before they left the car. They couldn’t know where the secure location was.
When the blindfolds came off, Amal found herself in a large brick room with exposed pipes. A few leather couches and a brown desk with pens and stationary sat in the middle of the room.
Amal had hoped that there would be windows, but t
here were not. Just a single, solitary, light shaped like an orb hanging overhead. The place smelled of rot.
Several men in suits sat on the leather couches, and they immediately rose.
“It’s not perfect,” Edwil said, “but it’ll have to do for now, Mrs. Governor. We set up a bedroom down the hall. We’ve sent agents to get your clothes and personal belongings.”
“Thanks,” Amal said. She said hello to the men and strode into the room.
“Sit down,” she said, making her way to the desk.
The men sat down carefully.
Edwil placed a folder on her desk. She paged through it, seeing a report with photos from the bog, Old Dark, and a transcript of the court proceedings with Lucan Grimoire. “You’re probably already familiar with what’s in this folder,” Edwil said. “I’ll fill in some intelligence gaps for you.”
Demetrius folded his arms and leaned against the doorway. “Always wondered what an intelligence briefing sounded like.”
Edwil pointed to the door. “Unfortunately, sir, we are going to have to ask you to leave.”
“What?” Demetrius asked.
“Regardless of the circumstances,” Edwil said, “this briefing is still top secret.”
Demetrius slung his hat on his head and sighed as he waved to Amal.
She wished he could stay.
But the safety of the city was more important.
“Tell me everything,” she said.
***
Demetrius murmured as he paced the hallway. He wondered how long the briefing was going to take.
He passed the door to Amal’s office again. He put his ear to the door to see what he could hear. The voices on the other side were muffled.
Above, the hallway light—a white orb hanging from a black cable, came to life. Rotating to get a good view of Demetrius, it watched. And it listened.…
XLIV
Miri listened in disbelief as Alvia told her story.
“I’m flattered that you sought me out,” Miri said, “but I don’t think I should be the one to help you. How did you even find me?”
Tony raised his hand. “I remembered you. From the bog. You were the smart one.”
Miri thought she recognized him. His father tried to kill Lucan.
“Your dad tried to kill Lucan,” Miri said, frowning. “Why should I trust you?”
Tony lowered his eyes. “My dad’s actions were his own. I didn’t have anything to do with it.”
“But you went and talked to Amal Shalewood,” Miri said. “You’re part of the reason his campaign ended in chaos.”
“I didn’t mean it,” Tony said. “I’m serious!”
Miri couldn’t believe him. She didn’t want to think about Lucan right now. She turned to walk away.
“I don’t know what either of you are talking about,” Alvia said, “but it’s not important. You are a world expert on Old Dark, right?”
“I guess.”
“You’re one of the only people who’s ever talked to him. What’s he like? What should I expect?”
“You’re awfully forward,” Miri said.
“I need to know everything you know, so that I can destroy him.”
“I don’t know if that’s possible anymore, Alvia,” Miri said.
“You don’t know what I’m capable of.”
“You don’t know what he’s capable of, honey. He shouldn’t have been able to escape from Lucan. But he did. He has help now. When I met him, he was in a severely weakened state. He’s probably fully recovered by now.”
Alvia stared at her blankly.
“The best thing we can hope for,” Miri said sadly, “is that Fenroot succeeds in taking him out.”
“Didn’t you dislike Fenroot?”
Miri looked away. It was true. She had spent her entire career downplaying Fenroot’s importance in elven civilization. Had it not been for his army, maybe she would have been right. But she couldn’t help but root for the silver dragon now.
“Things change,” Miri said. “And so do circumstances.”
“Are you going to help us or what?” Alvia asked.
“I don’t know what you want me to do!” Miri shouted. “The last time someone ‘propositioned’ me, I ended up right where I am now. Broke, jobless, and running for my life.”
“Would you rather that or be without your life?” Alvia asked.
“That’s a silly question,” Miri said.
But Alvia didn’t waver her intense gaze. Pepper flamed at her feet, and something told Miri not to leave.
Just a few days ago she had the same look in her eyes when she tried to convince Celesse and Earl to continue the fight.
She didn’t even know what the struggle was, but she wanted to protest with every inch of her body. She wanted to beat Old Dark. For Lucan. For history.
Now was her chance.
“If you want to find Old Dark,” Miri said, “he’s probably with Norwyn. They’re probably at the Hall of Governance.”
Alvia grabbed her hand. “Then that’s where we’re going.”
XLV
“I hope you’ll at least reconsider, Frog,” Dark said. “I could use your support. This old dragon needs all the help he can get, hmm?”
For the past few minutes he had been talking to Frog. Dark didn’t want to do another virtual appointment but he thought taking the time to repair his relationship with Frog might be useful.
The river dragon was reluctant to talk to him. “Don’t want to anger your second-in-command,” he had said.
But Dark knew that Frog had power just like the other dragons in Abstraction.
But he didn’t want to get involved.
Dark understood. It disappointed him, but he understood.
Frog was going to say something when Norwyn disconnected the broadcast.
“I’m sorry, my lord, but it is time to begin our attack,” Norwyn said. “Frog can wait.”
Dark followed Norwyn out of the Abstraction Chamber and looked back wistfully at the television screens.
***
Dark and Norwyn stood on the roof of the Hall of Governance, looking out over the city.
“Time to see if our efforts succeeded,” Dark said. “What exactly should I be looking for?”
Far away, a skyscraper roof lit up and turned pink. A ray of light shot into the sky. Nearby another skyscraper roof lit up and the ray of light connected with it.
All over the perimeter of the city, skyscrapers lit up until a clear barrier divided the edge of the city from the land beyond. A pink wall burned like plasma around the edges of the city, and it continued spreading as far as Dark could see.
Another wall sprung up around the Hall of Governance.
“Well done!” Dark said. “A wall within a wall. Brilliant!”
“This should give us time to breathe,” Norwyn said. “This will win support with many of the citizens. We’ll have to begin working on them next. But that’s not all.”
BOOM!
An explosion bloomed on the outskirts of the city, just beyond the pink wall.
“What in heavens—” Dark said, recoiling.
The explosion began to travel, burrowing across the flat landscape toward the beach that surrounded the city.
“Lucan’s facility,” Norwyn said. “We concentrated the grimoires there into a deadly blast.”
Dark laughed. “Ah, then it sounds like Fenroot is going to be enjoying a welcome gift very shortly, then.”
XLVI
On the beaches of Magic Hope City, Fenroot sensed a change in the air. He had been watching his army gather and prepare for the battle to come. Meanwhile, he heard the turmoil in the city and it gave him satisfaction to hear everyone run for their lives. They were all probably turning on each other right about now.
That would make his job easier.
Now the air changed. It was thicker, like a storm was approaching, but there were no storm clouds in the sky. Fenroot tasted the telltale signature of powerful magic in the
air.
“Looks like I was right,” he said.
He watched a pink barrier appear in front of the city, barring the army’s entrance. He could still see the city through the wall, but it was like looking through a distorted mirror. The beach took on a pink tinge.
“I’m sure the old dragon is feeling full of himself right now,” Fenroot said. He turned to Moss. “Your advice was helpful, for once.”
“Heh heh,” Moss said. “Let’s hope so. Aren’t you glad I am a dragon in Abstraction? I know their ways. Wait until Dark sees what we have in store.”
Fenroot walked across the beach to a group of elves where drawing runes in the sand with large sticks.
The entire beach was full of runes.
Fenroot inspected the runes the elves were drawing. “We need the magic,” he said. “How much longer?”
“A little while longer,” one of the elves said. “We’ve nearly finished marking the beach.”
“Work faster,” Fenroot said.
He looked again at the city, which was so desperate to defend itself.
Soon he would be inside. And soon he would have Old Dark’s head. When he did, he might finally break the curse on him forever. He would beat that damned prophecy. Maybe he would become dragon lord again. It didn’t matter. Whatever he would do, he would enjoy his remaining years, and maybe the people would worship him—a god of the world returned to rid the world of the Great Darkness. He would spread the religion of the Order across the world, one where his story was central to it.
For that was the real glory.…
“Fenroot!” Moss cried.
“What?!” Fenroot asked. “I’m busy!”
“Fenroot!” Moss cried again.
All over the beach, the army began to point and yell.
Fenroot turned around and glanced at the shoreline.
A giant wave of fire was rushing toward the beach.
The sight of it stunned him for a moment.
Then he roared “Troops! Defense!”
The elves and dragons scrambled across the beach. They climbed over each other, crawled through the sand toward the ocean, as if it would save them.
Old Wicked (The Last Dragon Lord Book 3) Page 16