Dragon Spawn

by Eileen Wilks

  “Is this it?” Rule asked. “Come look.” As Gan hopped down from the motorcycle, he went on, “Lily, where’s Reno?”

  “At the caldera. Flying over it.” She frowned. “Should I try to contact him again? I’m not . . . on the way here, it occurred to me it might be possible for someone to sense my probe.”

  “I didn’t know that was possible.”

  “Maybe it isn’t. I’m just guessing, but it seems like someone who was really good at mind magic could spin a net sort of the same way I create a mind-mist to see if there are any minds nearby. It would take a godawful amount of power, though, to set a net that big.”

  The Great Bitch had a god-awful amount of power. “And maybe catch you in that net?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know what’s possible and what isn’t.”

  “Better not risk it.”

  Benedict tapped Rule’s leg. “Here. You won’t get much detail from this far. Don’t forget to turn them on.”

  Turn them—oh, right. These were the new ones, with image stabilization. Rule located the power button. “Lily, are you able to keep watch around us without tripping this hypothetical mind-net?” All he saw through the lenses was fuzz. He adjusted the focus.

  “I don’t know, but we need for me to keep watch. I’m pretty sure I’d know it if I did trip something.”

  “Hmm.” He messed with the focus some more . . . now he could make out what he saw. Stone. Blocks of stone, some oddly regular, strewn around the ground surrounding the caldera as if a giant’s hand had swiped his block castle, landing the pieces in tumbled piles.

  “That’s it,” Gan sang out. “That’s Xitil’s old palace. I wonder if she’s dead? I don’t think we should go there, Rule. It’s bound to be dangerous.”

  “It’s where the children are,” Lily reminded her with more patience than Rule could summon. “The children are why we’re here.”

  What was that? A wildly colorful creature of some sort, long and sinuous. Rule couldn’t make out any details before it vanished behind one of the huge stone blocks. Whatever it was, it was gone now. He turned the binoculars on the dead forest, hoping to trace that dry streambed, see if it led where they wanted to go. “Gan, can you see üther from this far away?”

  “See it where?”

  “At the caldera.”

  “No one can see üther through rock, but even if the rock wasn’t there, it’s too far, except maybe for Xitil’s pets. They probably could, if any of them are still alive.”

  “Xitil’s pets?”

  “You know—those great big flying demons. They were fighting with the dragons when we were here last time.”

  Oh. Those. Rule remembered them with great clarity.

  “They’re probably gone. They eat a lot, and there’s nothing here to eat.”

  Rule couldn’t follow the dry streambed all the way through the trees, but it did seem to be headed in the right direction. Where were Carlos and Daniel? They had to get moving, get down there . . .

  “We’re too late.” Cynna’s voice was as flat and harsh as the dead land around them. “We can’t get there in time.”

  “Don’t assume,” Lily said coolly. “Sam thought they meant to cross to another realm, but that’s a guess, not a fact. He didn’t know about the magic being drained from the land, channeled to that caldera. Whatever they’re up to there, Sam didn’t know anything about it, so we can’t assume he was right about them crossing. Maybe that caldera is their goal. Clearly they’re doing something major there.”

  Cullen gave a nod. “Reno’s there. Surely he’ll do something if they try to take the children elsewhere, but we need to hurry.”

  Rule’s heart hurt. “No.”

  Everyone turned to stare at him. “Haste made sense earlier, when we hoped to catch up with them in the open. Not now. Either the children will be taken to another realm before we can reach them, or they’ll be held in a highly defensible structure. I could see that much about it with just a quick look through the binoculars. Given that it used to belong to the demon prince of this region, I would guess it holds less visible surprises. Haste will just get us killed. It won’t rescue the children.”

  “Shit!” Cullen said explosively. “Hellfire. You’re right, damn you.”

  Cynna cursed, quietly and extensively. Benedict simply nodded. Lily grimaced.

  Rule kept going because he had to. “Gan, you’ve been there? To Xitil’s palace?”

  “Sure! Well, only a couple times, but I remember it pretty well. Plus I know a lot of stuff about it from having eaten old Mevroax.”

  He blinked. “I need to talk to you about—”

  “Rule!” Carlos didn’t speak loudly, but voices carried well in this dead landscape. He was still out of sight amid the jumble of rock to their left, but by the sound of it was headed back. “There’s a gully or maybe a dry streambed. Lots of loose rocks, but it switches back and forth, so it’s not impossibly steep—at least the part I could see isn’t. It’ll be tricky, especially for those with passengers, but I think the bikes can take it.”

  “Daniel!” Rule called. “To me. We’re moving out. Gan . . .” He looked at Lily and grimaced. “I need Gan to ride with me so I can question her about the caldera. Jude and I will swap bikes. I don’t want you on the back of a motorcycle not made for passengers.”

  “That will not be necessary,” Madame Yu announced. “I chose to enter this place able to cast spells because we expected a magic-based attack. This did not happen. I think now the physical advantages of my other form will be helpful. Lily may ride with Benedict. I will Change.”

  “Very well,” Rule said as Carlos jogged toward them and Daniel called out a response to his summons. Madame Yu moved away. Rule knew she preferred privacy for her Change, which was very different from the way lupi did it.

  Toby, we’re coming. Too damn slowly, but they were coming.

  * * *

  CARLOS’S notion of what constituted a bike trail turned out to be more expansive than Rule’s. He laid his bike down twice before reaching the base of the cliff, and he wasn’t the only one. Only Benedict and Cullen made it to the bottom without mishap, making Rule glad Lily was behind Benedict, not him. No injuries, however, so they kept going. Their path was a genuine gully at first, the banks over Rule’s head; Madame Yu, now in her other form, took point. Rule hadn’t asked it of her, but neither did he argue. He seldom argued with seven-foot Siberian tigers, and never with Madame Yu.

  The forest grew dense around them. The dead trees looked much odder up close than they had at a distance. Most were shaped like a spear twenty or thirty feet high with sparse, delicate branches that reminded him of an umbrella’s spokes. A few looked more normal, resembling oak or ash. They passed a thicket of what appeared to be oversize manzanita right down to the red bark and twisty branches, only with wicked thorns.

  After a while the gully flattened out. The banks were only a foot or so above the streambed when Madame Yu reappeared and planted herself athwart their path. Rule braked and signaled the others to halt.

  Behind him Lily called, “Grandmother says we’re very close.”

  “Very well. We’ll break for food, water, and planning.”

  They pulled the bikes out of the streambed—dry now, but who knew if it would remain so? Though the area seemed to be under severe drought. It bothered Rule that he’d neither seen nor smelled water since they emerged in hell. They’d been unable to pack in many supplies on the bikes, and water was bulky. They’d only brought four gallons, thinking they’d be able to find more if they were forced to linger here longer than planned. That might prove to be a mistake.

  Rule asked Madame Yu to keep watch a little longer so they could all drink and eat—just jerky, but there was plenty of it. Carlos and Mason took their jerky with them to patrol a twenty-foot perimeter and Madame was able to have her share, though
they had to jury-rig a drinking bowl for her by digging a hole and lining it with a bit of plastic. Rule opened the discussion. “Our first need is information. Lily, we need Reno’s input. He’s still up there?”

  “Yes. Ah . . . two possible explanations for his silence have occurred to me. One, maybe for some reason it’s dangerous to use mindspeech here and now. Two, maybe he’s a prick.”

  Madame Yu snorted. She was stretched out near Lily—an impressive sight. Lily looked at her, her gaze unfocused. “Grandmother says reason one is correct, but doesn’t eliminate reason two.”

  Rule drummed his fingers on his thigh. “Cynna, can you tell if the children are still in this realm?”

  “Not for certain,” Cynna said tensely. “I felt it the moment they—well, I think they were taken underground. My Finds are muffled. Hindered. Finding isn’t Air magic, but it grows out of Air, and stone inhibits it. Shit, enough stone could block my Finds entirely if I hadn’t already cast them. It feels like there’s stone between me and them, but I don’t know. If they were in another realm, one that isn’t physically congruent to this one . . . I don’t know how that would feel.”

  Lily frowned. “I’m going to try to locate Toby’s mind with a really narrow probe, one that would be hard to spot if someone’s watching for—”

  That would be both dangerous and unsuccessful. The children are belowground. I doubt you could penetrate the rock and earth to reach him.

  “Reno!”

  “About fucking time!”

  “Why haven’t you—”

  That should be obvious even to a human. The Great Enemy is, as we surmised, present in the form of her avatar, Ginger Harris. Using mindspeech is hazardous. I am currently shielding this conversation, but it is—

  Lily broke in. “Wait a minute. What about the way I detect other minds? Not mindspeak them, but locate them. I make a sort of mind-mist and—”

  I am aware. The technique you perceive as employing a mist is relatively safe, for it is almost impossible to sense or seize. What you think of as a probe is denser, easy to detect, and your protective magic is attenuated when you reach beyond your body. Do not attempt it. Do not interrupt again. I have examined the magical construct at the caldera. It is quite large, running from well below the surface to nearly one hundred feet above it. It is not precisely a gate, but can be used as one—albeit, I suspect, with greater temporal distortion than is normally acceptable. I will fly through it to leave this realm. When I do—

  Furious, Rule broke in. “What do you mean? Because of you, I wasn’t able to bring enough fighters! And now you’re going to run off and—”

  BE QUIET.

  The mental shout hurt. The pain wasn’t physical, but it was real. Pain did not stop Rule. He spoke as icily as the dragon. “Is this how dragons pay their debts—by abandoning their allies?”

  You are a fool. The obligation is not to you personally, but to the alliance of beings fighting a common Enemy. I offer you such assistance as is reasonable, but my primary goal is to stop her.

  Lily spoke with tightly held anger. “And how do we get back without you? None of us can signal Byuset.”

  Is this not obvious? Gan can cross back to Earth and inform the gnomes which node they should use. You waste time. I cannot shield this conversation indefinitely, so attempt to think rather than reacting with recriminations and petty questions.

  “This question is not petty,” Rule said coldly. “You said we were to leave the spawn—Tom Weng—to you. You won’t be here to deal with him.”

  One of you partakes sufficiently of dragon that if she kills the spawn, it will be a matter of duty and not an offense. Why else do you think I allowed Li Lei to come?

  Madame Yu snarled—at the supposition she’d needed Reno’s permission, Rule supposed—then ostentatiously began to groom herself.

  We are almost out of time. When I transit via this construct, it will create substantial instability in the construct itself, the ley lines feeding it, and the twin nodes beneath the caldera, leading to a massive explosion. The Enemy can shield her avatar from many ills, but not from such an explosion as this would be. It would kill her avatar along with everything else within fifty to a hundred miles, destroy the construct, and might well damage the interstitial region. This would seriously disrupt the Enemy’s plans. She will therefore be forced to devote considerable power and time to stabilizing the construct, ley lines, and nodes. This will be difficult enough to require her full attention. I suggest you attack while she is thus engaged.

  “You endanger the children!” Cynna cried. “If you’re wrong about what the Great Bitch can or will do—”

  I do not require your input. I inform you of what I will do that you may take advantage of it. Even humans should be able to see the wisdom in avoiding direct battle with one you are entirely incapable of defeating.

  “What is this construct?” Benedict asked. “What’s it for?”

  The construct is currently channeling vast amounts of power away from this realm. Without examining the terminus of that power, I cannot definitively ascertain its purpose. I have determined that it possesses a cyclic nature. Between twenty and forty-five minutes from now, it will reach the apex of its cycle. I will depart then. I will not be visible to you; however, Cullen Seabourne will see the power flare caused by my departure. There may be effects visible to the rest of you as well.

  I expect the Enemy to be fully occupied with stabilization for between two and twenty hours after my departure. Note that while she will be distracted, her forces and allies will not. However, they are less extensive than I expected; you have a chance of defeating them. I will now provide Rule Turner with information about those forces.

  Abruptly, knowledge bloomed in Rule’s mind like an unfolding fractal—unfolding in three dimensions, staggering his senses with the sudden imposition of data couched in inhuman terms. This tunnel, here—and these hot spots where demons of this sort waited—this spot marked as dangerous, but the meaning of that danger buried by alien thought-constructs . . .

  Reno was still speaking—or speaking again? Rule’s dazed mind could barely take in the dragon’s words.

  . . . this representation of the disposition of her forces to be largely accurate, but due to the haste with which it was compiled and the necessity of doing so without attracting the Enemy’s notice, it may be incomplete. Note that it does not include any passive traps within the structure. There was insufficient time to locate those. The spawn is currently with the children in the room I marked. I did not locate Ginger Harris, but the Enemy is well able to conceal her mind—and that of her avatar—from the sort of cursory examination I was forced to make to avoid detection. I will not risk speaking with you again, so I suggest you prepare yourselves for battle.

  A moment’s silence, then Lily asked, “And that’s it? That’s all you’re saying?” Unsurprisingly, there was no answer. She twisted to look at Rule. “Did he give you that information?”

  “Yes . . .” Rule shook his head sharply, trying to throw off his befuddlement. “Not in words, but as . . . it isn’t the sort of mapping I’m used to, but it is a map. I don’t see how he . . . Reno would have had to penetrate rock and dirt to locate the demons and the children. Mind magic isn’t supposed to penetrate rock and dirt.”

  “Dragons do it, though. At least Sam does. I don’t know how. Grandmother?” She looked at the tiger, who’d risen and padded closer. She put her hand on the huge head. “Grandmother says matter is not made entirely of matter, but of space as well. Power can flow through the spaces in rock, although only the older dragons can shape their power to do this. She also says this doesn’t matter, for you ask the wrong question. You should ask if Reno can be trusted.”

  “I don’t trust him.”

  “She does not, either, in some things.” The cadence of the words was clearly Madame’s, not Lily’s. “In this, we probabl
y can. It is unlikely he would go to the effort of destroying us through such complex misdirection when simply withholding information would have the same result.” Lily scowled and added, sounding like herself, “You think he might want to destroy us?”

  The tiger snorted.

  “She says she does not predict Reno’s goals, but he will not act to benefit our Enemy. She observes that if he did wish us dead—”

  “I get the point. Max. Reno doesn’t expect the demons fighting for her to be distracted. We should remedy that.”

  TWENTY-TWO

  THE room was not entirely dark. Mage lights bobbed around near the ceiling, but not enough to make it really bright. But Toby didn’t want to see any better. There were too many demons here.

  Not monsters. Demons.

  Toby couldn’t put into words why some of the creatures in Dis made him think “monster” while others immediately made him think “demon.” What was the difference? But there was a difference, even if he couldn’t explain it, and these . . . these were demons.

  There were two types in the big room. One type stood up on two legs and had red or pink skin and no hair. Their faces looked like gargoyles, only with more eyes—two in front and two in back—and they had little horns on top of their heads and long, clever tails almost like a cartoon devil, only without the arrowhead at the tip. Instead they had a bony ridge that looked sharp enough to cut you open. Like all the other demons Toby had seen, they were naked, so he knew some were male, some female, but the females didn’t have breasts. There wasn’t room for breasts because that’s where the smaller pair of arms grew, right out of their chests. Those arms were short and ended in hands that looked almost ordinary. The upper arms were long and thick with muscle like an ape’s and grew out of powerful shoulders. Those arms ended in claws like the ones on their big feet.

  The second type of demon were built like giant, hairless hyenas, with skin that ranged from dun to black. They only had two eyes, but those eyes were red and glowing. They had two short rear legs and two longer front legs, plus a pair of weird-looking arms with too many joints sprouted from their chests. Those arms ended in hands, but with claws so wicked long Toby didn’t think they could use their hands for much.