Dragon Spawn

by Eileen Wilks

  Warty stared at him for a long moment, then blinked like a reptile, with the bottom lid lifting to cover her bulgy eyes. Then she smiled. It was not a nice smile.

  She came over and squatted down close enough for him to smell her. Pumpkin pie, he thought again. “It’s funny to watch you take care of the human larva. Or is it a nymph? It does look something like a grown human . . . do you know what we do with our young, little boy?” She leaned closer. “We eat them.”

  He recoiled.

  She giggled. It was an eerie, girlish sound coming from a monster with a voice like a bullfrog. “We eat them,” she repeated, and giggled some more as she stood, enjoying her joke. “Stupid boy. There is more food for the larva. The lord has a use for it. For you, too.”

  Toby licked dry lips. “What use?”

  Warty grinned, showing teeth. Pointy yellow teeth. “Maybe he will eat you.”

  Toby thought that was one of the monster’s little jokes. He hoped it was. But he was glad when Ryder started fussing again. It gave him a reason to look away from that toothy grin.

  “Scared” was not a big enough word.

  Fear could get so large that it swallowed you. Toby knew that. He and his dad had talked about fear lots of times. But this was different. As vast as his fear was, it couldn’t swallow all of him. It couldn’t touch the red-hot creature pacing and pacing inside him, waiting for its time.

  But not patiently. Not patiently at all.

  TWELVE

  LILY ducked into the downstairs bathroom so she could pull on her jeans. Lupi might not care if she was only half-dressed, but she did. She used the facilities, washed her hands, and splashed water on her face, hoping to trick her nearly-three-in-the-morning brain into alertness, and did not think about how Toby was supposed to be upstairs right now, asleep in his bed. Safe.

  At least he was wearing his pj’s—the blue ones she’d given him last Christmas, which were already too short. Half the time he didn’t. He’d been raised to wear pajamas to bed, but lupi didn’t bother with that sort of thing, so half the time—

  Shut up, she told herself and stood there, face dripping, eyes shut tight. She wanted her cat. She wanted to hold Dirty Harry’s warm, purring body, wanted him back, safe and whole. She wanted Toby to be still asleep in his bed. Wanted Ryder to be held safe in her mama’s arms.

  God. Dear God. How was she going to do this? Cynna must be going crazy. Lily wanted to go to Clanhome, both to be with her friend and to question her, but Rule couldn’t stand to leave the place where Toby was supposed to be.

  Cullen, of course, would fly back here immediately, which meant that no one who knew anything about the workings of magic or the existence of the Great Enemy would be investigating the bombing. Oh, Ruben would do what he could, but the Bureau was being run by an ass-wipe who’d block him for the sake of covering his own sorry ass. Meanwhile, Unit 12 was leaderless, adrift . . . and Rule hung on the edge of a precipice. If he didn’t fall off and start killing people, it would be a wonder.

  Lily felt achingly, horribly alone in spite of the fact that she’d had to duck into the bathroom to be alone. She just kept thinking about how much she wanted Harry back, as if restoring him would restore everything and everyone else. It was irrational as hell.

  The emotion is irrational, a cold voice agreed, but your conclusion that the cat’s life is both morally and tactically important is sound. I am landing now. I will first examine the place from which the boy was stolen.

  * * *

  “WHAT kind of deal did you make to get him to come?” Rule asked.

  They stood together, watching the dragon who’d inserted his head in the brand-new hole in the wall of their house. The window in Toby’s bedroom had been too small, so Sam had removed it, along with a bite or two of the wall. The black dragon’s version of examination involved lots of up-close staring.

  “I didn’t.”

  “Not that it matters. We need . . . you didn’t?”

  Rule was a couple steps back from the edge now. Not calm, no, but his control no longer seemed a glassy thing, ready to shatter. Trying to put his foot through Mateo’s chest may have helped, or he may have simply outlasted that first, hysterical rage. “He thinks this may be connected to Weng, which makes this his business or his responsibility or something. It involves him anyway, so there’s no debt for his help tonight.”

  They watched some more.

  “I need to do something,” Rule said. “There’s nothing I can do that will help, not yet. But I need to do something.”

  “We can go talk to Cynna. To your father. Sam will probably want to examine Ryder’s room, too. And Dirty Harry is there. Sam will need to examine him, too.” If he was still alive.

  * * *

  CYNNA was pale beneath her ink, but calm. Horribly calm. Eye-of-the-hurricane calm. She folded a pair of jeans and placed them on top of one of the three piles on her bed, then regarded it with a frown. “What am I forgetting?”

  “I don’t know what you’re packing for,” Lily said.

  “I’m not sure, either.”

  Cynna and Cullen’s little house was crowded. Arjenie, Lily, and Cynna were in the master bedroom; Isen and two more lupi were in the living room; Benedict was on the front porch with yet more lupi; Rule was in the nursery. Ryder’s nursery. As soon as they arrived, Rule had Changed so he could compare the scents he found there to what he’d smelled in Toby’s room. Were they dealing with the same kidnappers in both places, or had there been two teams?

  “That’s her cold-weather pile,” Arjenie said helpfully. “In case it isn’t Dis, or if Dis has gotten cold since you were there.”

  Lily had gotten most of Cynna’s story from Isen. The moment Cynna realized Ryder was gone, she’d cast a Find for her baby. With people and objects she knew well, she didn’t have to stop to take a pattern—she could cast the Find right away. But what her Gift returned had been oddly blurred, even though it had seemed to show that Ryder was quite close, less than five miles away. At that distance, she should have had a crisp, perfect Find.

  She’d experienced that odd blurriness in a Find once before. The possibility that this was the same sort of problem had scared her. She’d cast another Find, this time using a baby gift from their friend Max. She’d added Ryder’s birthing name to her Find.

  Max wasn’t just short, ugly, and obnoxious. He was a half-gnome, and birthing names were a gnome thing. They weren’t true names, but they were powerful. Max had said the name was in case the baby “gets in trouble—sick or badly hurt.” It would let Ryder draw on Max’s strength, if necessary. Cynna had hoped the name would also sharpen her Find. It did. It did more; it let her feel what Ryder felt—not emotionally, but physically. The sensations were dim, but enough for her to know that Ryder was alive. She was a bit chilly, a bit wet down below, but she didn’t hurt anywhere.

  She’d called Isen. Badly as she wanted to rush to her baby herself, she wasn’t an idiot. Others could get there faster, others who were better than her at a quiet stalk, if one was needed. She’d told Isen exactly where Ryder was—three miles to the north-northwest, which put her on the slope of one of the foothills that were part of Nokolai Clanhome. Isen had already known something was wrong; he’d felt her, he said. The Great Bitch’s magic had intruded into Clanhome, but he hadn’t been able to tell exactly where.

  Isen had sent Benedict and a full squad racing toward Ryder, then he and a second squad had picked Cynna up in a Jeep and headed there, too. They’d arrived only a few minutes behind the four-footed crowd . . . but Ryder hadn’t been there. Cynna’s Gift insisted that her baby was right there—some ten feet belowground, moving along at a brisk pace. She was almost certainly the most powerful Finder in the nation, and she trusted her Gift, but what it told her made no sense . . . if Ryder had still been in this realm.

  The realm that was easiest to reach from Earth—the one mo
st physically congruent—was Dis. Otherwise known as hell, because that’s where demons came from.

  “What else do I need?” Cynna asked. “What am I missing?’

  “If it’s Dis?” Lily said. “Medical supplies. Food. Weapons. Ammo. Cynna, I’m trying to pin down the timing. What I know is all thirdhand. Could you—”

  “They took her diaper bag.” Cynna turned blind eyes on Lily. “So they plan to keep her alive. They wouldn’t need it if they . . . but I can’t remember what all is in it, so I’m not sure what to take. Only two jars of baby food, though. I’m pretty sure there were only two jars in the diaper bag, so I need more food, but how much?”

  The largest pile on the bed was baby things. Food, diapers, wipes, clothes, toys.

  “We don’t know enough yet,” Lily said, helpless. “Maybe you could figure what she’d need for a week, and when we learn more we can fine-tune it. Cynna—”

  “It may not be Dis. I don’t know. I don’t know how to find out.”

  Lily didn’t, either. She just knew she really, deeply did not want Toby and Ryder to be in Dis. “We’ll need weapons no matter what realm it is. Cynna, a while back you told me Dis was now time-congruent with Earth as well as physically congruent. Are you sure of that?”

  “As sure as I can be without opening a hellgate.” She didn’t look away from the pile of Ryder’s things. “Time there and time here used to only match up sporadically, but the Turning seems to have dragged the two realms into full congruency.”

  “How can you tell?”

  “Demons. I don’t summon them anymore, but it’s possible to, uh, chat with one without—”

  Rule spoke suddenly from the doorway. “They’re the same. The same two scents I found in Toby’s room. I feel as if I should know one of them, but I can’t place it.”

  He’d remembered to pull his jeans on after Changing back to two legs, probably because this was Cynna’s home and nudity would be rude. Lily wasn’t sure Cynna would have noticed. At the moment, Cynna might not notice if he’d painted himself blue. Lily nodded. “So we’ve got two perps, not a multitude. Good. What else can you tell from their scents?’

  “Both are human or predominantly human. One’s male. The other one, the one that seems familiar, is female. There’s an odd note to her scent, which may be why I can’t identify her. It reminds me of Friar.”

  That jolted her. “He’s in Dis.” That’s what they’d concluded, anyway, after Cynna exorcised him. Friar wasn’t a demon, but he seemed to have acquired enough demon tricks—specifically, the ability to go dashtu—to be vulnerable to exorcism.

  Rule nodded, his expression grim. “So we’ve thought. It doesn’t smell like him, but it reminds me of him. I wish I had something of his to smell so I could compare the two scents. Cynna, can you do that Find for Toby now?”

  “Yes. Yes, I can do that. Do you have something of his? I could probably Find him without a pattern, but I can cast a stronger Find if—yeah, that’s good,” she said when Lily handed her Toby’s toothbrush. She’d brought it along, knowing the sort of things Cynna used to get a pattern. Cynna headed for the hall as if glad to be in motion. “They’re probably together. I hadn’t thought of that. Toby’s with her. That’s good.” She stopped abruptly, looking at Rule. “I don’t mean it’s good Toby was taken. I mean—”

  “That he’ll take care of her,” Rule finished, laying a hand on her shoulder. “If it’s at all possible, Toby will look out for Ryder. You know he will.”

  “Yes. That’s what I meant. Do you know why? Do you have any idea why they’ve been taken?”

  “Only guesses.”

  None of Lily’s guesses were comforting. She changed the subject. “Cynna, I’ve heard from Isen about what happened, but that’s second-hand. If you’re up to, it I’d like to hear it from you.”

  “There’s not much to hear.” Cynna’s voice was crisp again. She had herself back under control. “Follow, and I’ll tell you.”

  Lily did, assuming her friend was headed outside. For a strong Find, Cynna liked to build her focus with a stamp-dance ritual performed outdoors.

  “I’d stayed up late, hoping to hear something about Martin or . . . just something, you know? Cullen texted me when his plane landed, and I decided I’d better turn in. I knew Ryder—” Her voice caught briefly. “I knew she was going to wake up early. She always does. So after I heard from Cullen, I turned in. I fell asleep pretty quickly. I don’t know what woke me. I don’t remember hearing anything and the wards weren’t triggered, but something woke me. I got up. I don’t know why. I didn’t feel a premonition, nothing like that. I just felt restless, so I got up to get a drink of water. I looked in Ryder’s room. That was automatic. I looked in, and she wasn’t there.”

  “Do you know what time that was?”

  “No. I didn’t look. At first I couldn’t believe she was really gone. She had to be there. Only she wasn’t. I did a quick Find. That’s when I knew it was real, that she was really gone. But it was blurry, so I did another one. I used her birth name. That made it so clear, like crystal . . . did Isen tell you about that? I have to focus hard, but I can feel her. She’s all right. Physically, anyway, she’s all right.”

  “That’s a big comfort. And after you did that Find, you called Isen?”

  “Yes.” Cynna moved through the living room as if no one were there. One of the men stepped quickly out of her way.

  “Isen said you called him at two nineteen. What time did you go to bed? Did you check on Ryder then?”

  “Of course. She was fine. Sound asleep.”

  “What time was that?”

  “I don’t . . .” She paused in the doorway, frowning. “My phone. Cullen’s text will have a time stamp. Does it matter? I don’t see why it matters.”

  “We don’t know yet what matters. Do you know where your phone is?”

  “The bedroom. It’s in there someplace, I think.” Cynna stepped out on the front porch. Rule followed. So did Arjenie.

  Lily didn’t. She wanted to get Cynna’s phone.

  “Lily.” Isen took her arm, speaking low. “Do you know what Cynna plans to do?”

  “Go after Ryder somehow. You’re sure about what time she called you?”

  “Yes. Cynna intends to summon the other Rhejes. She wants them to open a gate, as they did once before. That could turn out very badly.”

  Lily tucked away her preoccupation with timing. Isen thought this was important. She’d better listen. “Because they may have set a trap?”

  He waved that aside. “Of course they will. We have to assume they’ll expect us to follow, if we can. My immediate concern is about summoning the Rhejes, gathering them together. Our Enemy has shown that she can acquire formidable weaponry—missiles, even a nuclear bomb.”

  And with the Rhejes all in one spot . . . Lily shivered. The Rhos might run the clans, but the Rhejes were their heart, their link to the past and to the Lady. Also to some really potent spells. “That could be bad, all right. I—”

  Outside, Cynna called, “I Found him. He’s with Ryder. They’re not moving now. Earlier Ryder was moving. She was moving away from me at about ten miles an hour at first, but she stopped moving about twenty minutes ago. She and Toby are both staying put now. They’re between thirteen and fourteen miles north-northwest of here.”

  Lily’s brow furrowed. She kept her voice down. “I don’t see what I could do. There’s no way of stopping Cynna, even if I wanted to. I don’t. We have to go after Toby and Ryder.”

  “Yes. We need to find a way to do that without collecting every Rhej in one spot.”

  We will deal with that.

  Lily’s eyes rounded. Isen’s narrowed.

  “With what?” Rule asked from the front porch.

  Apparently Sam was addressing all of them. Lily added another question. “When you say ‘we,’ do you mean dr
agons, jointly?”

  I mean that dragons will arrange for a gate, if one is needed. Cynna Weaver is correct in her surmise that your stolen young were taken to another realm, but we do not know which one. Determining that will be difficult and time consuming. The traces I found are faint. They are sufficient for me to be certain no gate was involved and are consistent with what I would expect if a crosser shifted there, but insufficient for me to tell what realm was involved.

  “A crosser?” Lily repeated.

  So the elves name those able to travel between realms without a gate.

  “Like Gan.”

  “And my father,” Arjenie said, coming back inside.

  And a sprinkling of others among the low sidhe, Sam agreed coldly, as well as some of the middle and wild sidhe and all of the high sidhe. None of which is relevant, for none of them were involved.

  “How do you know?” Cynna demanded, following Arjenie into the living room.

  My conclusion derives from multiple sources. You are aware of one. Rule Turner stated that the two intruders smell human. Rule Turner, Isen Turner, I request your permission to invite another of my kind to join me in your respective territories—specifically, to the sites where your young were stolen. His assistance will increase the probability that I can determine where your young were taken.

  “Leidolf grants permission, as stated,” Rule said.

  “Nokolai grants permission, for the purpose stated,” Isen said.

  He requests that you refer to him as Reno. He will arrive in twenty-one minutes. I have retrieved a memory sequence from the cat you call Dirty Harry. I will—

  “Is he all right?” Lily broke in. Harry had suffered a depressed skull fracture. She’d spoken with José, who’d gotten that diagnosis from Nettie, so she knew that much. A depressed skull fracture was not good news, but it was something a healer could deal with. Usually. Sometimes. Though if he’d suffered brain damage before Nettie started working—