Drakon: Awakening
By Erik Schubach
Copyright © 2014 by Erik Schubach
Self publishing
P.O. Box 523
Nine Mile Falls, WA 99026
Cover Photo © 2014 Mat-Hayward/DVARG / ShutterStock.com license
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher, except by a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages in connection with a review written for inclusion in a magazine, newspaper, blog, or broadcast.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Manufactured in the United States of America
FIRST EDITION
ISBN 978-0-9911072-3-0
Prologue
It was so exciting as I crested the peaks of the Rocky Mountains and saw the ocean of lights of Denver, spreading out before me, and twinkling to the horizon. I may have squeaked a little in my excitement. Here I was, Myra O'Connell, going to Denver on my very first research grant.
I still couldn't fathom the fact, that at twenty-six, I had my Doctorate in Mythological Studies now! It was a hell of a thing, handing in my dissertation on the Dublin Fire Stone and then waiting. The waiting was the worst. Finally I was awarded my doctorate, and I applied for a research grant to study shards of the Fire Stone and other associated scrolls and writings pertaining to medieval mythical creatures.
Now if only I had a fecking place to live until the grant money came through at the end of the month. Ma and Da would tell me to suck it up and do what I must. I patted the steering wheel of dependable ol' Maggie, my white Toyota Prius, a gift from my parents on my first day of college eight years ago. “Looks like it's gonna be you and me for a stretch, all close and intimate like. Us Betty's gotta stick together ya know?”
I descended into the city and pulled my thick glasses down to the end of my nose and looked over them at the GPS on my smart phone. The museum should be the third exit. It was past eight, and they would be closed, but I wanted to familiarize myself with the area ahead of time.
My unruly mass of curly red hair fell in front of my eyes as I looked back before getting onto the off ramp. I indignantly tried to blow it off to the side but had to reach up and push it back over my shoulders. Why couldn't I have straight hair like my Da? 'Twould be much easier to manage. But noooo, it has to be this fiery mess like Ma.
I drove slowly past... the Denver Museum of Nature and Science twas huge. I noticed the reserved lot for staff, that would be where I would park. I glanced over at the parking permit sitting on the top of the packet I had received from the museum last week.
I smiled to myself, trying not to get excited again. Come on Myra! Get a hold of yourself you're supposed to be professional now, not a fecking archeology fan girl. I snorted at the memory of the poster I had in the dorms in school, Indiana Jones. He was what I envisioned myself to be, an adventurer sifting through the past and finding connections between myth and reality. Plus ya know... yum!
I pulled over and looked over my glasses at my phone again and pulled up the location of the nearest YWCA, at least I could get a shower there in the mornings until the money came through. I had to really ration what I had for the next few days. I navigated the roads, which were surprisingly still quite busy as the rain started falling.
Well Denver is such a huge city, so I guess that makes sense a lot bigger than the tiny, in the pale, coastal town of Wicklow, Ireland. We had moved to Seattle when I was seven. Da was a tenured archeology professor at the University of Washington. Ma used to run a bakery in Wicklow, and they fell for each other when he was in Ireland doing some research. We'll that's Ma's story anyway, Da just agrees to keep her fire branded temper at ease. I grinned at that, besides my hair and the rake of freckles over my entire body, I got Ma's hair-trigger temper.
I drove past the Y and nodded to myself as I continued on down the lane until I came upon a park. I pulled into the lot to the farthest corner from the road and settled in as the rain started sheeting. I ate a few snacks from my travel bag and reclined the chair as I removed my heavy glasses then set my alarm on my phone. I really hated being nearsighted. Once my research is done here I think I'll get that laser eye surgery everyone is always babbling about.
I took a minute to look over the packet the museum had sent and to run my finger over the picture of the Fire Stone shard in their collection. This was a dream come true for me to actually see a piece of it. Literally, the stuff of legends. The shard and some associated scrolls were on loan from Dublin to the Denver museum.
It was unearthed in a dig near Dublin eighteen months ago. A perfect orb of red crystal. Some gobshite at the dig had dropped it, and it shattered into hundreds of pieces. Analysis of the shards dated them to around 450 AD. The most curious thing about them were that they glowed slightly at night, though compositional analysis showed them to have no impurities whatsoever. They were pure silicate glass, there was no explanation as to how they glowed or why they appear red when there was nothing in them that would cause the effect. Nor were there any explanation as to how the glass was so pure when it was beyond anything that the people in the middle ages could possibly produce.
My research for my dissertation actually lead me to an obscure writing about Saint George, the dragon slayer, that mentioned the Fire Stone that allowed him to trick and destroy the last of the dragons. It was described as a red orb of fire. Most scholars discounted that writing because it was not mentioned in any of the other Saint George tales. But the discovery of the Dublin Fire Stone changed all of that. And suddenly, wee Myra O'Connell is the leading “expert” on the stone. I snorted at that, like I knew anything more than the poor eejit that broke it. There were some Gaelic scrolls that were unearthed along with it, that needed restoration. They might shed more light on the artifact. Those scrolls were what had my knickers all damp.
I grinned and looked into my rear view mirror. I was knackered and weak as a kitten. It was a very long drive, there was no way I'd chance one of those flying metal death traps! My emerald eyes didn't have their normal sparkle. They're my best feature if I didn't say so myself. I sighed and patted the steering wheel again. “Well Mags, it's you 'n me now, ya know.” I locked the doors and let myself drift off, wondering what mysteries would be revealed on the scrolls. It was surely going to be an exciting new chapter in my life.
Chapter 1 – The Shard
I woke suddenly to a loud tapping on my window. I sat bolt upright, gathering my wits. The windows were all covered with condensate, and I could only see the shadow of a person outside my window. I wiped the window with my arm and saw a police officer tapping on the window with his nightstick. The rain appeared to have stopped.
I hit the button and lowered my window and squinted at the rising sun to his back. The man narrowed his eyes unpleasantly and spoke gruffly, “You can't sleep here. You'll have to move along.”
I nodded nervously, I've always been quite timid around the police. “Sorry officer, just rolled into town last night and haven't had a chance to get me-self situated.” I tried to give a charming smile.
He shook his head dismissively. “I don't care, you still can't sleep here.”
I nodded and rolled the window up and pulled out of the lot and onto the road. I couldn't help but wonder why I could never charm my way out of things. Me Ma always had a way of getting out of tickets and such just by smiling.
But then again, she did have that ginormous O'Flanagan chest from Grams O'Flanagan's side. I looked down at my virtually non-existent girls in embarrassment. Flat as a board this one is. I guess that would explain it then.
I looked at the time, it was only a few minutes before I wanted to awaken anyway, so I headed to the Y. Da had insisted on paying for membership for me and I had, rightly I thought, told him of its foolishness. Now it seems I owe him a wee apology.
I dug around in the luggage in the back seat and stuffed a change of clothes into my day bag and made my way in. I signed in at the desk and was surprised how many people were already using the facilities. I made my way to the jacks and relieved myself. I should have done this last night, I was at the bursting point.
Then I showered and prepped for the day. As I dried my unruly mop of red chaos and did my makeup, I glanced at the other women on either side of me doing the same. It bothered me that they were so well developed, and I was the opposite of developed, whatever the term may be. And they towered over my diminutive five foot two frame.
I shrugged to myself and put me glasses on and excitedly made my way back out to Maggie to get to the museum. I was beside myself with giddiness. I was really doing this. This wasn't college anymore. 'I' was now an expert in my field, doing bonafide research! And I was going to be paid for it! I'd have done a jig if I hadn't been sitting in the car.
Before it could register, I was pulling into the reserved parking lot at the museum. I placed the parking pass on my dashboard so it could be easily seen through the windshield then hopped out of Mags, smoothing down my gray skirt and putting my ID lanyard around my neck.
I hugged my purse and electronic tablet to my chest and made my way to the employee entrance. I held my ID badge toward the scanner and the door buzzed, and I walked through. There was a security guard at the metal detector arch, he looked to be of pacific islander origin. His name tag read Sefa, solidifying my observation. I almost rolled my eyes at myself for even making the observation, Da always played that game with me. The dangers of being related to an anthropologist.
I placed my purse and tablet in a plastic tray and sent it through the x-ray machine as I walked through the arch to the man. “Hello, Sefa is it?”
He smiled and nodded as I continued as I retrieved my belongings. “I'm Dr. Myra O'Connell.” I held up my badge a little. Inside I was thinking, “Oh me lord, I'm Dr. O'Connell now!” Then I continued, “Could you direct me to the curator's office, please? This place is huge, and I haven't got me bearings yet.”
The musclebound man smiled warmly, I think it is my accent. Ma is always saying how just a touch of Irish brogue can get you anywhere with a bloke in the States. He pointed down the hall and replied, “If you go down to the elevators there in the hall and go up to the second floor, then turn right, it is at the end of the hall.”
I offered my hand as I tilted my head in thanks. “Thank you kind sir, and it was a pleasure meeting you Sefa, ya know. I'm sure you'll see more of me around here the next couple years.”
His smile doubled as we shook. “It was nice meeting you too, Doctor O'Connell.”
I called over my shoulder as I made my way down the indicated corridor, “I'll be havin' none of that now. You can be callin' me Myra if you please.” in a mock scolding tone.
He chuckled, and I heard him say, “Myra it is then.” I fought to stop myself from fanning my face as I got onto the elevator. Handsome guy Sefa was. OK Myra, straighten up, you're a professional here. I put my game face on as I exited the elevator and turned right and immediately tripped over the cord from a vacuum a janitor was pushing around and landed right on me backside.
Oh, did I not mention I'm quite possibly the most clumsy woman that our lord saw fit to place on this planet? Well it's true, now shut yer trap!
To my extreme embarrassment the janitor and a well dressed, fifty something man with distinguished looking gray hair came to my rescue and helped me up and handed me my things. As I thanked the men, I caught the suit's name badge. “Doctor Henry Arnett” Crap! He was the curator, so much for first impressions.
I saw him likewise glancing at my name badge hanging around my neck. His face bloomed into a smile as he said, “Doctor O'Connell.”
I'm sure I was red as a strawberry as the blush on my cheeks burned its way down my neck. I tried to regain some composure and returned, “There'll be none of that now. Myra is fine, Doctor Arnett. Hell of a thing being introduced like this, ya know.”
He chuckled politely. “Of course, Myra. Please call me Henry, I always feel pompous having people address me as Doctor Arnett.”
I gave him a toothy grin. “I know, right?” Then I straightened up again and looked up at him, he had to be six feet at least. Be professional Myra! “I'm looking forward to working with your team on the artifacts from the Dublin dig. How did you ever convince them to allow you to handle the pieces?”
He winked. “Well we weren't actually granted more than cursory physical contact with the pieces and any nondestructive testing, such as x-ray and fluoroscope scans to try to read the scrolls. We will lose them in eighteen months back to the Dublin Archives. We will be working with the team in Dublin, who have the other three scrolls and most of the shards of the Fire Stone. I must say, I was impressed with your work on the alternate Saint George folklore writings. Fascinating how you were able to tie it to the Fire... oh sorry, there I go again, letting my enthusiasm get ahead of me.”
I chuckled. “Nothing to be sorry about. I find me-self quite excited at the prospect of this research. The discovery of the Fire Stone was quite fortuitous as it kept my dissertation from being laughed out of the university.”
He looked around and leaned in slightly as if to share a secret and said, “Would you like to see it?”
I was nodding like I had not the full shilling and blurted out, “I'm delira and excira to!”
He responded, “Good! I'll bring you down to the team, may as well get you started right away. They can assign you a workspace down there.”
He motioned back to the elevator, and I comically made a point of stepping way over the vacuum cord much to Henry's amusement and the chuckling of the janitor. He hit the call button, and we made our way to the basement once the elevator arrived.
I followed him out into a simply gigantic staging area for some exhibits. I saw a Celtic druid stone with a couple tablets that a couple workers were prepping, and I got sidetracked. Henry paused and looked back as I looked over my glasses to examining the monolith. He cleared his throat, and I glanced over at him and blushed as I hurried back to his side, “Oh! Terribly sorry. That druid stone just looked like the one from the Limerick collection, ya know.”
He grinned at me. “Good eye, it is. It is on loan to us for the Fire Stone exhibit.”
I whispered, “Those tablets though, are from the wrong era and they are fake.”
Henry raised an eyebrow. “And why do you say that?” He had a crooked little small smile on his face like he was up to some Tom Foolery.
I squinted at him and said, “Well the druid stone is covered in archaic Old Irish Gaelic, and those tablets are in Middle Irish. How can ye be havin' twelfth century writing side by side with fourth? Not to be mentioning, what kind of self-respecting twelfth century druid would be writing on stone tablets?”
Henry started chuckling. “I see we're getting what we are paying for with you, Myra. Yes, the tablets are just set pieces... for ambiance. The true centerpiece is going to be the Fire Stone shard and the accompanying scrolls.”
Now I was really blushing. I could feel my cheeks burning, and I looked away as I walked and promptly ran into a large man carrying a crate. He was just able to catch it before it hit the ground. “Damn me two left feet! Are you alright sir?”
The man just grinned and snickered a little. “I'm fine. And so is the four thousand year old vase.”
I blanched. “Oh me lord.”
He winked at me and continued on into what looked like
a huge storage room. I looked over at Henry as he said, “Oh, no. You're one of 'them'.”
I squinted an eye. “One of what?”
He grinned. “One of those researchers we need to wrap in bubble wrap because you are too caught up in your work to notice the world around them.”
I nodded, pretending to be in deep thought. “Ya know Henry, I think you may be onto something there.”
The hair on my arms started prickling as we approached the end of the hall and I felt an odd pressure building inside me, I wrote it off as excitement.
We shared a smile as he scanned his ID at the glass door to a restricted area, and he motioned his head to the scanner and I scanned my ID too. We entered a clean room. He handed me a white frock, hairnet and booties. The pressure I felt building was more intense here. We both donned our outer gear, scrubbed our hands, and went through another glass door into a positive pressure room.
There were two people already in the room. A tall lanky bloke and a woman a bit on the wee side like me. They looked up from the scrolls they had carefully rolled out on the light table as we entered. Henry started the introductions. “Doctor Myra O'Connell, I'd like to introduce you to the rest of your team. Doctors James Reid and Mei Kamia.”
I grinned and blurted out, “Doctor Kamia, I read your paper on the folklore of the indigenous Aboriginal tribes of the Australian Northern Territory. It was inspired!”
She grinned as I shook her hand. Doctor Reid, with his long drawn down face sounded just as excited as he addressed me. “It is a pleasure finally meeting you Doctor O'Connell. How does it feel to be vindicated on your brilliant divergent theory of Saint George and the Fire Stone?”
I blushed. “Please, don't be embellishing me work like that. I just presented some overlooked work. And if you please doctors, call me Myra.” “James”, “Mei,” they each replied.
Then Mei's eyes got huge with a matching excited smile. She was already gorgeous with her Japanese-American features, that just made her stunning. “So? Do you want to see it?” she asked.
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