Dragon Spawn

by Eileen Wilks

  “The cat?” Lily repeated, startled.

  Do not interrupt. The cat is unavailable, so it will be necessary to approximate the living mass of each of you based on—

  “Hold on a minute,” Cynna said. “None of this measuring was necessary when we opened a hellgate before. We couldn’t send many people through it, but that was a matter of what you call simple mass and of time. It was a small gate and couldn’t be held open long.”

  I repeat: do not interrupt. It slows us down. It also annoys me.

  Madame Yu spoke in rapid-fire Chinese.

  This is why I dislike interacting with humans. Very well, I explain further. You did not transit with a dragon when you opened that hellgate. My presence in this gate will induce instability, which limits the amount of additional mass and power which can pass through the gate.

  “We transited with a dragon when we returned,” Lily said. “With twenty-four of you, in fact.”

  The Eldest sang us home. You have no more understanding of what that means than an infant, in falling to the ground, grasps the nature of gravity. You are aware of the bare fact that he did so, however. I perceive in some of your minds the idea that it would be easier to make this transit without me. You are correct. However, I do not consider this option worth consideration. First, it will almost certainly be necessary to kill the spawn, and you are unlikely to succeed in this. If you did, the results would be unfortunate. Dragons do not cosset our young in the manner of humans, but we strongly dislike any who kill them.

  “He took my son,” Rule said, his voice almost a growl. “And Cynna’s daughter. And three more of our children.”

  These circumstances would render it a less-than-mortal offense, but it would remain an offense. Some of us might find it difficult to continue to ally with you, and the alliance between us is critical to defeating the Enemy. My second reason for rejecting the option of your proceeding without me is that you would be unlikely to survive. Certainly none of you can live for long without air.

  “Without air?” Benedict repeated, scowling.

  It is likely that the Enemy used the demon prince called Xitil as avatar for a brief period. It is unlikely Xitil survived having been avatar. It is highly unlikely that the death of that demon means that the region currently lacks a prince. Whoever that prince may be, the Enemy must have some agreement with him, her, or it which allows her avatar and agents to operate there. That agreement may include the new demon prince’s active opposition when we arrive. It is possible for such princes to remove the air from a small area of their demesne, such as that around a node. This is not easily done, but it is possible, as are several other manipulations you are unlikely to survive.

  Benedict was still scowling. “It would have been good to know that a few hours ago, when we were making our plans.”

  Reno ignored that. I can interfere with such manipulations. Without my assistance, you are unlikely to survive them.

  “What about opening two gates, one after the other?” Cullen said suddenly. “One for you, then one for us.”

  The instability I referred to lies within the node itself. After the gate we use collapses, another gate cannot be constructed until the node regains stability, a process which is impossible to predict. It will probably take more than three days and less than three years for the node to stabilize, but even that broad estimate is not certain.

  “How do we return, then?” Cynna demanded.

  Obviously, the gate used to return will have to be constructed at another node. However, there will be a time lag before it can be built. Opening a gate is extremely draining. Byuset will probably be unconscious and thus unable to direct the construction of the second gate. Without his participation, the second gate will be smaller than the first. This should not be an issue. I shall not return with you. This will provide sufficient time for Byuset to recover, at which point he can construct a third gate which I may use.

  “You’ll stay behind?” Lily exclaimed. “In Dis?” Even for a dragon, that was dangerous verging on deadly.

  If, as I assume, you wish to transit the largest party the gnomes’ gate can accommodate, once you retrieve your young, your party will be too large to return through any gate the gnomes can construct.

  Lily felt stupid. How had she not thought of that?

  You could, of course, leave several of your party behind while the remainder returns with your young. Those left behind would almost certainly perish. I, however, can survive a brief stay there. It is logical for me to remain until a third gate can be constructed. Be aware that the second gate will not be opened immediately upon the collapse of the first gate. I am told it will take between five and fifteen hours for the gnomes to recover sufficiently to construct it. I will signal them which node to use.

  In other words, they were going to be stuck in hell for hours—maybe a lot of hours—after they rescued the children. Lily exchanged a glance with Rule.

  “How will you signal?” Benedict asked at the same moment that Cullen said, “You don’t have a node picked out for the second gate yet?”

  We do not know where we will be when we wish to return. The gnomes will inspect nearby nodes for suitability while we are away, testing them for power and accessibility from the Dis side.

  “You mean like knowing if a node that’s on the surface here is buried in rock in Dis?” Lily asked. “They can do that?”

  Yes.

  “How will you signal the gnomes?” Benedict repeated.

  “Can you mindspeak across realms?” Lily asked. “Talk to Sam, at least? The Great Bitch did that, though she had to have a telepath on the other end.” Helen Whitehead had been a telepath. She’d also been a psychopathic bitch who’d put out Cullen’s eyes, framed Rule for murder, and tried her damnedest to collect Lily so the Great Bitch could use Lily’s wiped-clean brain to store a backup of the Codex Arcana. Lily had put an end to those plans by killing Helen.

  No.

  “Why not? You and Sam are both telepaths, so—”

  I am not an Old One. Reno sounded miffed. I will communicate by sending a pulse through the node which will be picked up by the gnomes’ jabak. Jabak are the devices with which they communicate across realms. Shaped pulses of a particular nature are sent into a node and can be read by jabak at all nodes which share congruence with that one.

  “Cynna and I have seen them used,” Cullen put in. “They’re a bit like telegraphs.”

  They are very little like telegraphs. Rule Turner, Byuset informs me that, based on my preliminary estimates, it will not be possible to transit myself and twenty-five others unless he builds a permanent gate, which would take considerably longer and create an unacceptable security breach. He believes it possible to construct a temporary gate which will transit between ten and fourteen beings in addition to myself—quite a remarkable achievement. The precise number of beings will depend on the final measurements I provide. I have finished measuring the power of those present and now need to approximate your living mass. This will take longer. You may experience a brief sensation of pressure, or you may feel nothing.

  Rule waited, frowning. Nothing happened. Nothing went on happening until Cynna burst out, “They’re moving!”

  Rule looked at her. The lacy ink on her face stood out in stark contrast to her sudden pallor. “Ryder and Toby?”

  “Yes. Away from us. They’re moving away from us.”

  Suddenly Sam rejoined the conversation. How quickly and in what direction? Cynna didn’t reply out loud. Sam must have plucked the information directly from her mind, for he continued with the barest pause. In that case, you must hurry. I suspect they do not intend to remain in Dis.

  Rule spun to face his brother. “Benedict. Get everything up to that node, fast. And the men.”

  Reno spoke. I must complete the measurements. We do not yet know how many can—

  “Go ahead and m
easure,” Rule snapped. “We’ll assemble. Anything and anyone over the limit, we’ll leave behind. Tell Byuset to start building the gate—ah, that’s a strong suggestion, not an order. Lily—”

  A small orange being with bright blue hair and absurdly large breasts popped into existence next to one big, clawed foot. She shrieked and jumped—literally jumped, landing five or six feet away from the dragon. That wasn’t enough, apparently, for she scooted toward them quickly.

  “Gan?” Lily said in a disbelieving voice.

  The newcomer stopped and beamed. “Hi, Lily Yu! Hi, Cynna Weaver! Hi, Cullen Seabourne and Rule Turner! It’s not tomorrow yet, is it?”

  “Not—” Lily shook her head. “Never mind. Are you here to . . . why are you here?”

  “I’m going with you, of course. Didn’t they tell you? Dragons.” She shook her head. “They never tell you the important stuff.”

  “But how did you get here?” Lily cried. “How did you know to come here at all?”

  “The black dragon told me.”

  That is not— Then Reno did a very un-dragon-like thing. He paused.

  Was Sam talking to him? Explaining how he’d done what Reno had just said was impossible? Lily wanted badly to eavesdrop on that conversation.

  Gan burbled on, oblivious. “It all arrived in a burst! Everything exploded in my head and I passed out and when I woke up I knew you needed me and where and when I should come. I had to go through four realms to get to here and now, but I made it!”

  You arrive in time to assist me, Reno said.

  Gan cast the dragon a suspicious look. She was wearing the most amazing costume. It seemed to be made out of pockets. Khaki pockets, to be specific. The only pocket-free zones were her head, hands, and boots. Even her leather belt had pockets. So did the small backpack. “Are you hungry, dragon?”

  No. I am using the call-name of Reno. Refer to me that way. I need to measure the üther of those who would use the gate. You need only observe them. I will take what you perceive and convert it into terms the gnomes can use.

  “Oh. Okay.” She began looking them over, her gaze snagging briefly on Grandmother. “Wow! Did you know she—”

  I know. Continue.

  Gan did. It didn’t take long. “Are you done? Lily Yu, this is going to be so much fun! If we don’t get eaten, that is.”

  Lily dropped to one knee to look the former demon—her friend—in the eye. “Gan, are you sure about this? It’s going to be very dangerous.”

  “Well, duh! It’s Dis! That’s why you need me. Don’t worry—if something tries to eat me, I’ll leave. I’ve got tons of power, so I can pop in and out all day and—oh, hi, Max! I didn’t see you at first. Maybe we can fuck later.”

  “Is that all the measuring?” Cullen demanded. “Good. Gan, we’re leaving now, and we’re in a hurry.” He crouched with his back to the former demon, now the most powerful person in the realm of Edge. “We’re glad to have you, Chancellor. Climb aboard.”

  TWENTY

  THE sun squatted on the rim of the hills to the west, red and baleful like Sauron’s eye. A fretful breeze tugged at a strand of Lily’s hair that hadn’t been properly caught up in her braid. She was too hot in her leather jacket, though she’d left it unzipped, both for coolness and so she’d have access to the Glock in her shoulder harness. She adjusted the strap of her M4A1, her heart beating a steady go, go, go, and thought about a ten-year-old boy, a nine-month-old baby, and how life was more of a loop-the-loop than a straight line. Here she was, ready to set off on a rescue mission to hell. Again.

  This time Rule was with her, though. And this time they’d be traveling a lot faster—fast and light. On motorcycles. Five dirt bikes and three dual-sports or adventure bikes, to be specific. And God knew that the enthusiasts among them were determined to be specific. Most of their supplies were not coming with them. Ammo had taken priority over medical supplies, which ended up being mostly superglue and a couple rolls of gauze. They’d packed lots of jerky, but water was heavy and cumbersome. They’d cut that to the bare minimum.

  As for people, eleven had ended up being the magic number. Eleven of them could transit the gate before it collapsed. That didn’t include Gan, who didn’t need a gate to cross, but while the former demon might be a valuable asset, she couldn’t be considered part of the fighting force. It was a long way short of the three squads they’d planned to take, but they hadn’t planned for a dragon, had they? Surely Reno would make up the difference when it came time to fight.

  Currently the green dragon was flying in tight circles overhead. The clearing which held the node was barely large enough for him to land. It wouldn’t hold him and the gnomes, much less everyone else, so “everyone else” was parked along the trail above the node. They’d need to enter the gate from this side.

  “. . . unfortunately, I’m the only one who can use it,” Cullen finished.

  Rule’s eyebrows lifted. “Not even Cynna? You said it was based on her spell.”

  Cullen shook his head. “It’s a sadly jury-rigged contraption. Doesn’t even have a proper trigger. I’ll have to, ah . . . you might think of it as hot-wiring a car. You need the Sight to grab the right ‘wires’ and connect ’em.”

  “How many demons will it kill?”

  “Somewhere between twenty and a hundred, I think, if there are that many in the blast zone. It depends on the demon. Some are more resistant to magic than others. Those it doesn’t kill outright should be incapacitated for a time.”

  “I guess we’ll find out,” Rule said. “You’d probably best get in position.”

  “Right. See you in hell.” He turned and headed back to his bike.

  Rule had been asking Cullen about his demon bomb, which was based on a spell Cynna knew that killed demons and only demons. The spell did this one at a time. Cullen’s bomb did it wholesale.

  At least he thought it would. He hadn’t exactly had a chance to test it.

  Rule looked at Lily, frowned, and fiddled with her helmet strap, tightening it. “Remember to pancake me. Follow my motions exactly.”

  “I’ve ridden on the back of a bike before.” Not since she was nineteen and she’d only dated the guy for a couple months, but still. It wasn’t that complicated.

  He was grim as he tightened the strap. “Not on back of a dirt bike.”

  “I thought we had one of the dual-sport types.”

  “Are you arguing just to be arguing?”

  “Pretty much.” She wanted to kiss him for luck. Or just because. His helmet and hers were in the way, so she settled for stroking his jaw. “I’ll stay up against your back and lean as you do.”

  One corner of his mouth turned up, but his eyes remained intent. As if he was memorizing her. He kissed his fingers and brushed them across her lips. “Glasses,” he reminded her.

  Obediently she slipped on the wraparound shades she’d borrowed and the world darkened. Rule’s helmet had a visor; hers didn’t. She was just glad they’d found one that fit, having seen what can happen to a helmetless rider’s head. He swung his leg over the borrowed Triumph and settled into the seat. She climbed on behind him, adjusted the hang of the assault rifle on her back, and put her feet on the foot pegs.

  They didn’t know if motorcycles would prove immune to the disruptive effect of high ambient magic, but the bikes didn’t have to work for all that long. Plus they’d have a dragon with them, soaking up magic—if Reno stayed close, that is, instead of flying way overhead. Reno refused to commit to doing so, nor would he venture an opinion on the bikes’ functioning in Dis. Ambient magic levels there varied too much to make any estimate meaningful, he said, though he did say that the bike Lily rode was unlikely to malfunction. She took that to mean that while she didn’t soak up as much magic as he did, she’d soak up enough.

  They were proceeding as if Sam was right and their enemies intended to leave Dis f
or yet another realm. If he was wrong . . . Lily couldn’t remember a time Sam had been wrong, except for the one she’d learned about only two days ago. That whole creating-dragon-spawn thing had been a huge mistake. Which was why he and the other dragons were helping so much now.

  Loop-the-loops. Her thoughts, like her life, kept getting caught up in them.

  Assuming Sam was right, though, they really needed the bikes to work. Toby and Ryder were currently over fifteen miles from the node, moving northwest at between six and eight miles an hour. If they could average thirty miles an hour on the bikes, they’d catch up in about thirty minutes. They hoped to go faster, of course, but the terrain might not let them. According to the dragons, the part of Dis that corresponded to Clanhome wasn’t mountainous, but neither was it uniformly level.

  “Explain to me again why the kidnappers need to go somewhere else before crossing,” Lily said to the small orange being perched on a rock overhead.

  “Sure,” Gan said. “When you cross, you go to whatever spot in the other realm matches up with where you are. Some realms match up all crooked, though. I could get to Dis from pretty much any spot in this realm, but if I wanted to go to, say, Tzaizo, I’d have to go . . .” She cocked her head, checking some internal metric. “Well, there isn’t a spot nearby that touches Tzaizo except for the one down below, but that one opens into solid rock, so I wouldn’t use it.”

  “You can tell that? If there’s rock or whatever on the other side of where you cross?”

  Gan preened. She loved being the expert. “I can, but a lot of crossers can’t, so mostly they die before they figure it out. It helps if you can go dashtu while you’re learning.”

  Lily nodded. “Dashtu means you aren’t material, so it doesn’t kill you if you cross into rock or under the ocean?”

  “No, you’re still made of matter, but your matter isn’t talking to the other matter.”