Trampolining with Dragons

by S. W. Clarke

  Times Square was more packed than I had ever seen it, and that was after seven months of hanging around New York City.

  There must have been a hundred thousand people filling the streets.

  Even as volunteers, Frank and I could barely make our way through the crowds toward the hotel. We needed to get inside with the other volunteers and get backstage.

  Except people were too involved in the blasting music, in watching the massive screens on the buildings—which promised that Lust would soon arrive—and the younger, hipper Dick Clark clone who kept hyping the crowd from the massive stage.

  At one point, Frank and I were pinned. We could only gawk up at the screen as people cheered.

  “Who wants to meet the sin herself?” the Dick Clark clone said into the microphone as an acrobat rolled inside an enormous hula hoop behind him. Off to the sides, women performed aerial yoga while hanging from long swaths of silk, though it was anyone’s guess as to how their bare limbs didn’t freeze off.

  “Frank,” I yelled to him, “I think they actually got the Cirque de Soleil for this.”

  “Yeah,” he yelled back, “but they’re still not as good as Tara and her Dragon.”

  I chucked him on the shoulder as the cheering subsided and we continued toward the main event. When we arrived at the entrance to the hotel, Lust’s pink-haired assistant stood in the way, eyeing our shirts. “You’re late.”

  “Yeah,” I yelled over the noise, “sorry about that. Didn’t expect this kind of insanity. Anyway, we’ll just scoot on by you and make our way to—”

  She rolled her eyes. Flicked a hand at us. “We have more than enough volunteers inside already. You won’t be needed.”

  Frank and I exchanged a glance. The resolute look in both our eyes was clear.

  I nodded at the assistant, who remained unmoving in front of the doors. “Sure, no problem. But I really need to use the bathroom, so if I could just scoot—”

  “The hotel’s off limits to the public right now.” She didn’t even blink as she stared me down. Nearby, two security guards kept half an eye on us. “You’ll have to find other accommodations.”

  “Listen, my bladder …”

  But Lust’s assistant had already turned away, speaking to one of the guards. His eyes were on us, and I knew there was no getting through these doors. Things would only get worse for us if we lingered.

  I took Frank’s arm, and we made a beeline through the crowds toward the front of the stage. If we couldn’t take the easy route, we’d take the hard one. But GoneGodDamn, we’d find a route.

  “Staff coming through!” I yelled the whole way, using my performer’s voice. It actually worked; people in red, white and blue tassels and top hats would glance back at me in confusion, eye my t-shirt and then move six inches aside.

  When we finally made it to the edge of the stage, we found one thing I hadn’t expected: a fence. And security guards placed at intervals along it. Of course there would be a fence and guards between Lust and the crowd. Otherwise some crazy person—like me—would jump up there and rush her.

  Frank and I made our way around the side of the stage, where I knelt and pretended to check on the wiring running along the ground. No one bothered us because, well, we were staff.

  Frank knelt with me. “We’re screwed.”

  I surveyed the fence. It looked like a simple chainlink—nothing I hadn’t vaulted myself over before. “The fat lady hasn’t sung, Frank.”

  He shot me a look. “What are you going to do, climb up there?”

  “Maybe.” I lifted my watch to my mouth, dialed Erik. “Corporal, are you ready?”

  It was only fifteen minutes to midnight. Lust would be here any second.

  On the other end, Erik said, “Tara, it doesn’t sound like you’re backstage.”

  “I’m not. Are you ready?”

  “But—”

  “Erik. Just tell me.”

  He sighed. “Do your thing.”

  “I knew I could count on you, Corporal.” I ended the call, and my hand edged toward Louise on my belt. I had a performer’s instincts, and I could feel the entertainer on that stage reaching his crescendo. People were cheering louder and louder. He was getting ready to introduce Lust.

  “What are you going to do, Tara?” Frank hissed at me.

  I couldn’t answer him. Right now, Mariana was talking to me. And when she and I spoke to one another, we completely consumed the other’s consciousness.

  “When you get to Lust’s side,” she was saying, “give me control.”

  “Are you sure?” I asked.

  “Absolutely.” I could feel Mariana’s trepidation beneath her words. “I swear to you, I’ll stop her.”

  It was a strange thing, having to trust my own soul. I was hesitant to give Mariana power even though she represented the best parts of me—pure, real goodness, untainted by anger and desire for revenge.

  And yet I still didn’t completely trust her to do what she needed to do. But I didn’t have a better plan for stopping Lust.

  “I’ll do it,” I said to her. “When the time comes, I’ll do it.”

  And then I couldn’t hear myself think, because the entertainer on stage had just told everyone exactly what they wanted to hear. Lust was coming.

  Through the music and the screams, I could hear a noise as familiar to me as my own voice. It was one of the sounds I loved most in the world. The crack of a dragon’s wings in the sky.

  All eyes lifted, including mine, as high above a blue-scaled beauty swooped around the side of a skyscraper, the webbing of his wings nearly translucent, refracting the technicolor lights all around.

  It was my little egg. My dragon, Percival.

  GoneGods, when had he gotten so big?

  His wings tented as he came over the stage, and he landed with a rumble, his talons glinting as he touched down. The only thing marring his appearance was the metal collar around his neck and the metal clamps around all four of his ankles.

  And there atop his back, bedecked in semi-transparent cream chiffon, sat the most beautiful woman in the world.

  Lust.

  Chapter 12

  She slid off Percy’s back like slipping off the lip of a pool into the water. And when her feet touched the stage, all went quiet.

  The cheering stopped. The music dropped to nothing. All around us, a stillness fell as she appeared on every massive screen, her pristine eyes tracking over the thousands upon thousands of people before her.

  She could not have been more in the blush of youth, her brown hair ringleted over one shoulder, white flowers woven in. Through her dress, I glimpsed the outline of her perfect form, felt myself longing to stare and stare until my eyes shriveled from lack of blinking.

  Even now with bloodlust coursing through me, I felt the draw to her. Here on this stage, she had grown immensely more powerful than when I’d first encountered her in Texas, or even at the hotel dinner.

  The whole world’s eyes were on her, and she practically glowed.

  My hand went out to Frank. “You OK?” I whispered.

  He turned wide, terrified eyes on me. “I’m fine. Just don’t look at my crotch, please.”

  Poor guy. Couldn’t blame him for that one.

  I nodded as the two of us remained kneeling by the stage. “When she starts her spell, distract the security by the fence.”

  “Distract them?” He wiped a bead of sweat from his temple. “That wasn’t part of the plan.”

  “Plans change, Frank.”

  My attention returned to Lust and Percy. He was being led to the side of the stage by the angel, who reapplied Samson’s chains to his collar and legs.

  Hold on, Perce. I’m coming.

  Lust had the microphone now, and her voice came through in a purr. “How wonderful to see all of you here tonight, my loves, at the precipice of the new year. There’s no place I’d rather be.” A smile made her cheeks dimple, and I swear I heard everyone around me give a lovelorn sigh. “To ho
nor this night, my handmaidens and I have prepared a small gift for all of you.”

  A gift?

  Seleema appeared from backstage, her arm hooked with Ariadne’s. The two of them came forward in fluttering silks—only the GoneGods knew how cold they must be—and stopped before Lust.

  She walked a slow circle around Seleema and Ariadne, one hand floating down the length of their bodies. “Aren’t my handmaidens the glory of this new world? Tonight, we shall lift up this golden-haired beauty to the departed gods, and her spirit will cry out for their return. If we desire it enough, she will glow with the gods’ love, and one may be beckoned to speak to us.”

  This sent a roar through the crowd.

  A glow. If Ariadne GoneGodDamn glowed, that wouldn’t have anything to do with the gods. It would be because of Lust’s ritual. That was how Envy had described the spell in the scroll—the human vessel had glowed as she’d crawled into his body to inhabit him.

  And it was exactly what Lust would do to Ariadne.

  Lust turned toward them, her face lit with ethereal beauty on the massive screens. “I shall need the world’s help to raise this girl’s spirit. Will you join the call to the gods?”

  Another cheer rose up.

  “If you should want it from the depths of your soul, then repeat after me.” She stepped up to Ariadne’s side as Seleema came to the girl’s other side. The words that came out of her mouth were in another language, ancient and guttural—but I knew they must be the same ones from the scroll.

  The audience repeated the indecipherable phrase.

  “What the hell’s she saying?” Frank whispered to me.

  “Nothing good.” My eyes flicked over the fence, the guards, the distance between me and Lust. “She’s starting, Frank.”

  “The ritual?” He took quick breaths as Lust chanted the phrase again, and the audience repeated after her. “GoneGods, Tara. I’m sweating. I’m not ready.”

  Lust and Seleema had begun to sway, moving around Ariadne in a strange reverie, her purring voice repeating the phrase—now a chant. Seleema’s mouth moved with it, and around us, a hundred thousand people did the same.

  I could only imagine how many billions were doing the same across the world.

  This was happening. It was all happening right here, and there was a fence and massive security guards and an angel and a hundred thousand brainwashed people to stop me, and—

  From the other side of the stage, Percy and I met eyes. It was just a single moment, but I swear my heart expanded in my small, mortal chest. It was exactly what I needed.

  I set a hand on Frank’s shoulder, squeezed hard. “Frank, do it. Now.”

  And box of frogs if Franklin Stubemeyer didn’t shoot right up and, in the greatest moment of improvisation I’d ever seen, began running away from me along the fence, pounding his chest and screaming his heart out. “I’m gonna kill everyone here,” he bellowed. “With my bare fists. My bare friggin’ fists!”

  It wasn’t what I’d expected. It wasn’t what anyone had expected, and that was what made it perfect. All the nearby security swooped on him.

  Meanwhile, I had an opening. My only opening.

  It was time to send Lust the corporal’s regards.

  As the guards chased Frank, I reached behind me, unhooked Erik’s grenade from my belt. Kissed the hard metal and pulled the pin. I drew back, and with a moment’s aim, tossed it over the fence.

  The grenade sailed over in a perfect arc and clanked when it hit the stage, rolling toward Lust. The sin was so engrossed she didn’t even seem to notice—but her angel bodyguard had. And so had Seleema.

  They both started toward it as I began the internal countdown in my head.

  Six.

  Five. They had closed half the distance, Seleema barking out three words: “My lady, duck!”

  Four. Lust ignored her, the words still pouring from her mouth in hypnotic rhythm.

  Three. The angel’s wings spread to carry him up and toward the rolling grenade.

  Two. Seleema leapt, her lithe body arcing through the air in a whirl of silks.

  One. The grenade came to a stop on an empty section of the stage. Too late for them to grab it. I closed my eyes, plugged my ears.

  POW.

  The explosion blossomed over the stage, tensed every muscle on my body. And a second later, I opened my eyes to see a flash and spreading smoke. Erik had given me a GoneGodDamn smoke grenade, and it was quickly obscuring Lust and Ariadne.

  Why a smoke grenade?

  Then it occurred to me: the best way to defeat Lust was to keep her hidden. She gained her power through eyes on her.

  Erik was smarter than I’d given him credit for.

  As for the audience, they didn’t even react except to cheer; they thought it was part of the show.

  Well, it’d have to do. It was my only shot, now that Frank had been tackled some twenty feet away.

  I shot Louise out, activated her tenterhooks. I took a running leap and landed on the fence, pulling myself up Louise like a rope. When I’d crested the fence and crouched atop it, I lifted my wrist to my mouth. “Erik—now!”

  I yanked Louise up, her grip flying into the air, and caught it before I leapt down off the fence and landed in a crouch on the smoky stage.

  The crowd’s chanting went on, but through the haze I could see that Lust had stopped in front of Ariadne, her hands on both of the girl’s slender shoulders. She said something to Seleema and the angel, who immediately shifted gears from protecting their mistress to obeying.

  It was eerie. And Lust hadn’t even reacted to the grenade; she was wholly focused on completing the ritual. It was all that mattered to her.

  A second later, Seleema and the angel stood behind, tilting Ariadne’s head back until the length of her neck was exposed and her mouth opened wide. Lust’s hands had begun sliding up toward Ariadne’s face, and a strange golden glow emanated between the two of them.

  As I stared, Lust’s dark hair began to gray. Her hands became wrinkled and spotted, and her firm body sagged.

  She was burning time—tons of it. And she could, because she had the whole world’s adoration on her right now. Billions of people were powering her like a battery, and she was sucking it all up and transferring it into the most powerful, dangerous spell a sin was capable of.

  Transference into a human vessel.

  I unhooked Thelma from my belt as I straightened. At that moment, all the screens around us went black. Lust’s face disappeared from view, and I thanked the GoneGods for the corporal.

  He’d finally cut the camera feed. Now it was my turn to cut a bitch.

  I ran at Lust, rotating my wrists to swing both whips up and over as I closed the distance between us. They lashed out at her in turn—a snake striking once, then a second time for good measure.

  Louise, the longer of the two, caught Lust on the cheek. Then Thelma’s cracker dragged across her arm.

  Two good hits. I didn’t care if she was a mortal sin—I knew from a lifetime of slinging whips that had to sting like nothing else.

  A scream erupted from Lust’s throat, and I’ll be damned if even that wasn’t a pretty sound. Her head fell back, mouth open, as two lines of blood appeared where the whips had gotten her.

  Black blood. It dripped down her cheekbone and from a straight cut on her mottled arm.

  But her hands didn’t leave Ariadne’s shoulders. The glow didn’t dissipate. The spell went on, her chin dropping back down as her fingers dug into the girl’s arms, even as her fingernails became brittle.

  I hadn’t broken the bridge. Not yet. And I wouldn’t get but one more chance before all her minions descended on me. I didn’t know if I would be able to pull it off.

  Except, as a growl sounded across the stage, I remembered I wasn’t alone in this.

  Past Lust, I caught a glimpse of flickering orange. My brain registered it as dragon fire a second before I threw myself at Ariadne, yanking her out of the way as Percy’s roar resoun
ded through the night.

  If I let Mariana’s daughter die, she would never forgive me. Which meant I would never forgive myself.

  A moment later, as Ariadne and I slammed into the stage, I felt scorching heat on my back and legs. When I glanced back, a jet of Percy’s fire consumed the space around us, obscuring everything else from view.

  This was more fire than I’d ever seen him spew before. He had a bigger set of lungs now, after all, but I knew it was more than that.

  Percy was angry.

  You know those sayings about being “so mad you could spit” and “seeing red?” I’ve got a theory they were all inspired by the sight of a pissed-off dragon. Because when you see a dragon that mad, they certainly do spit. And holy box of frogs, everyone sees red.

  The whole stage was consumed by fire, the buildings around glowing with the reflection of it.

  For a moment, I existed only in mortal awe of my dragon.

  Then, as Percy’s roar tapered off, I prayed to the GoneGods he hadn’t gotten Seleema.

  Smoke followed the fire as it dissipated, and I kept my head low to avoid inhaling any of it. That would be just as treacherous as the fire itself.

  “Stay down,” I said to a prone Ariadne, who gazed back at me with wide eyes. “If you want to keep your life, stay down and keep yourself alive.”

  I didn’t know if she’d heard or understood me, but I didn’t have much choice except to leave her there while I rose and turned back toward Lust. The bridge had been broken, and I had to get to her before she could regroup and extract a new wave of adoration from her onlookers.

  As the smoke cleared, I spotted her there, crouched with both tented hands on the stage for stability. Her hair had turned fully white, and her telomeres must have been taken down almost to the wick.

  She’d burned a heck of a lot of time to resist being crisped by Percy’s fire. I could tell she had one foot in the grave. And I would help her get the other one in.

  But before I took one step toward her, two familiar faces appeared through the smoke.

  On my left, the angel who’d confronted me in the hotel. He unsheathed his sword, which had been hidden behind his wings. Now they spread white and wide, the feathers sharp and lethal in the night.