by Aaron Crash
My summoner was full of indignation. “I have never broken the law, not until you two came into my life. This is the second time I’ve been imprisoned.”
“The first being that time with the merfolk. When we fucked,” Rhee said shamelessly. “We made Axel come, and then he turned into a dragon.”
“I remember that quite differently,” I said. Yes, I could’ve shifted and torn that door off its hinges. That wouldn’t help us much. All we had to do was be patient, and they’d take us to see the Stallion King.
All three of us sat against the wall in the straw.
“What about you, Axel? Back on your Earth place, did you get in trouble with the law?” Rhee asked.
Figg joined in. “How are your memories?”
“Still Swiss cheese,” I replied. “Though I am remembering more. I’ve been to other worlds before, to fix things, to help people. My dad thought that we should be like the Knights of the Round Table. We had riches and power. We should help people. And we did.”
“It’s why you fought the Kankar on that first day,” Figg said. “You’ve done this before.”
I nodded. “I have. I went with my friend. No, Uncle Jared was family. We went to this other world, Azrack, to this shitty little town in the desert called Giraud. There was this sheriff there, half machine, all bad. His name was Rattletrap. Dennis Donald Rattletrap. He had these cyborg centaurs working for him. They weren’t hard to kill, only, they didn’t give us much Animus. That whole world was almost dead, and so keeping powered up was a challenge. My uncle had this battery, though. Icharaam Orb...”
My voice died. It felt like my mind was both covering up the truth and trying to poke through the mist to remember the final battle. Jared and I had been trapped in a prison cell. I remember him sitting on a stone bunk holding his leather satchel. He never went anywhere without that bag. We’d called Regina, using magic, and she’d shown up. My sister was powerful, and that song of hers, she’d sometimes sing it during fights.
She got there, but Reggie arrived too late to help Jared.
Before we went, my mom had begged me not to go. She wanted me to wait because my dad’s other wives could’ve gone with us. I was young, and I was stupid, and I thought nothing bad was ever going to happen to me.
Funny, my mom wanted me to be the father of peace. All I’d wanted was war. Well, I’d found it, over and over. Violence is simply not hard to find.
“Animus?” Figg asked.
“Shakti,” I whispered.
“What in the fuck is a cyborg?” Rhee asked. Then moaned from the loudness of her own question.
I was too lost in the past to answer. “You should’ve seen me. I had this gun, my Colt Defender, that fired enchanted bullets. I could cast any number of spells, and I could breathe fire, cold, poison, acid. Rattletrap was tough, and he had a lot of machines working for him. It was the same old story. An asshole takes over a town, and the townspeople needed help. I helped them. We did. Jared, me, Reggie, only something happened to Jared...”
I remembered holding him as he died. Tessa would’ve taken her brother’s death hard. Of course, she would’ve.
I smelled coffee and I winced. “Maybe I don’t want to remember that stuff. I just want to get the brand, find Dryx, and get out of this fucking town. Sweetleaf isn’t sweet, not by any stretch of the imagination.”
A couple hours later, the centaur twins came in. Our hands were manacled behind our backs. On the metal were the same runes that were on the door. So no spells for us, or at least not the magic the Xiddians were familiar with. I was a different deal.
We were led up stone stairs by the centaur twins. One had our weapons. The other had the five-pronged throwing weapon. We passed by windows to see the hazy town covered in the coal smoke. The central lake was a circle of dark water. The sun was a smudge on the eastern horizon, but yes, it was around ten o’clock. Rhee had been right.
We walked through massive hallways, tall and wide, and then shuffled into the throne room, which was located on the northern side of the citadel. The king’s audience hall had massive pillars, tapestries on the walls, and stained-glass windows. Tall fountains bubbled in alcoves on either side. It was as much a cathedral as it was a throne room. It even had flying buttresses holding up the vaulted ceiling.
The place was packed with Wynnym men in armor. There must’ve been two hundred horse men in there, but it didn’t smell too bad. I was glad of that. A few Wynnym females, including Ludmilla and Broomhelga, stood on the steps of a dais, while the centaur king lounged at the top.
Jim Goodgolde luxuriated on the elevated throne, which had obviously been made for a human, but customized with gold and plush red velvet cushions so he could lie across it. He wore crimson finery up top and a bright yellow leather skirt covering his backside. He leaned against one big pillow that lay against the high-backed throne. That pillow could be hiding the brand. Maybe they’d also used it, since the Pentakorr’s brands could only mark one person.
The Stallion King did have concentration ink on his left arm, dark like mine, though I didn’t see any scars. He had a huge helmet of white hair that matched the white hair tumbling down onto his chest. He looked physically fit for an old horse, but then I thought of what Cash had said. Wynnym spent a hundred years fit and healthy and then it took a hundred years for them to wither and die.
I could see signs of Jimmy’s decline, in the hanging skin on his neck, the wrinkles around his eyes, and the general pallor of his skin. Even his concentration ink looked faded.
Speaking of which, my own tattoo was itchy and prickly. I needed a healing spell, or maybe some antibacterial cream. I wouldn’t have to wait long once we got a peek behind that throne.
We stood at the bottom of the dais next to the centaur twins. I glanced around for Dryx and couldn’t find her. I did notice definite signs of the Pentakorr. A tapestry depicted an armored figure with the stylized helmet of a demon king standing in a forest. The trees were full of demonic looking monkeys. On a stained-glass window, I saw another demon king on a snowy mountaintop during a blizzard. The snow swirled around him in a definite pattern of three moons, one a crescent, one a half, and one full. That was the pattern of the Uma branch. One of the fountains was a demon king with the fire sign on him, water splashing down from outstretched gauntlets and into the basin. So Dvey had created the castle and included his brothers in the fun.
Rhee waved at Broomhelga. “Hi, Broom!”
Broom looked disgusted and shouted, “Shut up, prisoner! You should not say hi to me. I would never, ever say hi to you. You mean nothing to me. It’s not like I want to hug and kiss you or anything.”
Rhee grinned. Every one of Broom’s syllables was a confession. Poor Big Red.
Jim Goodgolde had a horsehair scepter, kinda ironic. He flicked it at Broom. “Silence, Officer Hurroom. These Foulwater outsiders have disrupted our city and brought down the wrath of the Gurgaloids. Also, their friend is one of the sky demons. We have secured her in one of the Lore Factories.”
Centaurs clopped their hooves and murmured their disapproval. So the Jataksha weren’t popular in the city—that probably made buying them and torturing them easier.
I stepped forward. “Hey, Stallion King. Yo, Jimmy, we didn’t mean to disrupt your city. And the gargoyles attacked us. Your city already had that problem. As for the sky demon, she’s more of a pet, like a beloved dog. We’d like her back. Where is this Lore Factory? We can swing by.”
King Jimmy blinked, obviously taken aback by my talking and not showing him the respect he thought he deserved. I wasn’t going to play his game, though. It would hurt, but I was going to end this shit and quickly. I had mermaids to kill. Or at least one merman I wanted to turn into shark bait.
I kept on talking. “As for Broomhelga, she’s not someone we want to get to know better, and we don’t appreciate her coming down to Cash’s to have a beer with us. We hate her.”
“See?” Broom yelled. “We are not going to be best frie
nds!”
“Enough!” the Stallion King thundered. “Toole! Toil! Drag him back so he stands with his women. If he resists, cut his legs off.”
So the centaur twins had names. King Jimmy wasn’t winning me over. Threatening to chop off my legs seemed a little harsh.
Toole and Toil came forward. I turned and gave Rhee and Figg knowing looks. They both nodded.
I steeled myself. This was going to hurt. I shifted first into my Homo Draconis form. My clothes shredded off me, turning into rags. Those manacles, like the door, were rusted, and the runes on them had weakened the iron. The handcuffs fell from my wrists and clanked onto the stone floor. My insides turned into liquid fire, but I kept my focus. I might burn up my atma, but I was going to get to the king and look behind his favorite pillow.
Toole and Toil gasped, not expecting me to dragon out.
I sped forward as Rhee and Figg fell in behind me. As I climbed the dais, I shifted into my True Form. It only took one flap of my wings to take me right to the throne. I landed, took hold of the centaur in my left talons, and clawed through the pillows with my right. The throne had an iron plaque on it, showing a swirl of metal forming a humanish head. That was the symbol of Ksu magic. But the image was inside another symbol, the three moons caught in a wind. Clouds drifted around the border but were sucked into the swirls. That might be a hint to where the brand was, but the jalana itself wasn’t there. I’d have to look for the brand elsewhere.
The horse men surged forward to rescue their king.
“Stop!” I roared.
Not only did I have their Stallion King’s head in my claws, I was the first dragon any of these horse fuckers had ever seen. Ha. Horse fuckers.
It might have been my imagination, but I thought I heard the plopping sound of a horse losing control of their bowels. No one in the room moved, not even Toole or Toil.
“Broom!” I thundered. “Unlock Rhee and Figg. I’m choosing you, not because I like you, but because you are a mighty soldier and a loyal member of the city guard. I know you don’t want your king killed. You love your king, I know it.”
Big Red, though, was standing there with a slack look on her face.
I added a bit of encouragement. “Broomhelga Hurroom!”
“Yes, I love the Stallion King,” she said in a weak voice. “I’d hate it if such a handsome man—I mean dragon, er, dragon man—killed him.”
“See?” I said to Rhee. “Dragon man. Not dragon boy.”
Rhee was still a little pale from her hangover. “Ah, Axel, you’re cute like a boy. But hung like a man. All these horse men would be jealous if they saw your pinga.”
Broom nearly blushed her freckles off as she hurried over to Toole. She took his key ring and unlocked Rhee, who retrieved our things off the saddlebags thrown across Toole’s back. Rhee buckled on her weapon’s belt. However, her bow and quiver weren’t there. She slid her satchel onto her shoulder and grabbed mine.
Toil was the one with the throwing weapon. He tried to ease it out of a holder on his side.
Rhee saw that, and she leapt forward to grab the wicked Frisbee. “On no you don’t, horse boy. I saw what you did to our sky demon friend. Now, you’re going to tell us where she is.”
I put a little squeeze on the Stallion King’s head. “Yes, this Lore Factory. I’m assuming it’s somewhere on the north side of town.”
“Aye!” Jimmy Goodgolde howled.
“Why did you arrest us?” I asked.
The Stallion King sputtered. “Because, you... you...” He stopped talking. He was hiding something. His silence was both interesting and annoying.
Broom unlocked Figg. The minute my summoner was free, her concentration ink flared. “Umaat injit!” She blasted Toole and Toil back in a swirl of wind. She caught that wind herself. With her tunic spinning around her, she floated up into the air, taking her bident, net, and satchel with her.
Flying near a fountain, the Foulwater sorceress used water magic to bring the water up and smash through one of the stained-glass windows. Then, quick as you please, she turned that water into a staircase of ice. Rhee ran forward and started up the staircase while Figg simply used her magic to levitate through the smashed window and out into the black cloud surrounding the city.
Toole and Toil had grabbed weapons and were clopping toward me.
I tossed their king into them. Centaurs don’t fall very gracefully down steps. That shit looked like it hurt.
I flew upward as a dragon before shifting into a Homo Draconis. Only I was low on shakti. I’d cast a bunch of spells the night before, and we’d all agreed sex in the dungeon would’ve been hard to manage. Wrong kind of dungeon.
Besides, shifting put campfire coals in my stomach. I turned back into a human and came crashing down on Figg’s ice stairs. I was naked, hurting, and nearly done, but still managed to race up the frozen steps.
I ran outside. I had to get wings to fly away, and yet, I didn’t have the juice.
“Figg!” I shouted. Then I jumped. I had faith in my summoner. Even as I plummeted toward a cobblestone courtyard, I knew Finniwigg Nightshine would be there to help me.
Chapter Twenty
HOT WIND BOILED UP and caught me in a warm hand, breaking my fall.
Rhee grabbed me, and we both tumbled onto the cobblestones. The throne room was part of the citadel on the north side of the castle. We were in a courtyard underneath the shattered stained-glass windows.
A wall blocked our exit. I could fix that, but first, I needed at least a little shakti. When I helped Rhee up, I drew her in for a kiss. Our lips met, and she sighed as the energy filled us both.
“You’re cute, dragon man, and you smell good,” the pirate elf said. “Thanks for the kiss. I can see you enjoyed it as well.”
Without clothes on, I couldn’t hide my enjoyment.
Figg growled, “It’s not the kiss he needs. But magic.” She marched over and grabbed my head. It was the angriest kiss of my life, but it also gave me power. We heard hooves clattering in the hallways and on the rampart walkways. The king’s guard was coming.
We had to get out of there, but I wasn’t about to shift again. We needed concentration ink to finish my damn tattoo. Getting back to the Mazes and Cash’s tavern would be a struggle. And we had to find Dryx in the Lore Factory. Or was that factories? That whole section of town had dozens of buildings and smokestacks.
Really, I thought I knew where we needed to go. That plaque on the front of the throne had clouds on it, and that meant sky. Cash had talked about a little square of rock that floated over Sweetleaf. I figured that was where the jalana was. Was it the air brand or the earth brand? Could it be a mixture of both?
It was Thursday, nearing noon, and we had to be back in Foulwater at least by Sunday so we could build walls for the Monday attack. Geeze’s visions had been right so far.
“Ksaat injit!” I opened the stone wall. It took all of my energy. I missed the Calcifax staff. It would’ve made things so much simpler.
Normally, Figg and I were quite the pair. She did the water and ice. I did the stone and mud. Rhee was cute. And she had a new toy, the throwing weapon.
The street lay below the opening I’d created in the wall. Rhee was able to clamber down using handholds I couldn’t see. Rhee, though, was good at that kind of stuff. Figg jumped down and hit hard but kept her feet. I followed and slammed down onto the avenue, rolling forward. Rhee had pulled a cloak from her satchel and threw it on me.
Word would get out quick there was a dragon man in town. I still wondered why the Stallion King had arrested us in the first place. Was it only because of Dryx? Maybe he’d trumped up charges against us to avoid having to pay for our sky warrior.
Even if that were true, it didn’t explain why the Gurgaloids had come after me.
Rhee was tall, so the cloak fit me, though it was awkward being naked and carrying my satchel. I remembered that my father had perfected magic for clothes to shift when we shifted. I didn’t have the luxur
y of that enchantment.
Rhee adjusted her belt, which held her cutlass, dirk, and throwing knives. She slipped the throwing weapon into her own satchel before setting her big dumb hat on her head. Figg slung her satchel over her shoulder along with her net and bident.
We adjusted our gear on the side of a broad avenue like the south road, only there were far fewer people there. It was mostly Wynnym men with baskets of coal on their back. Some were so stuffed that a giantess walked next to them to keep the coal from falling.
“Ksaat nivir!” I dispelled the magic I’d used to create the doorway above us. The stone flowed back into place. We just needed to skedaddle into one of the towering soot-blackened buildings in front of us.
Figg marched forward and picked one, seemingly at random. We followed her through a gate and walked across an open area. Ash drifted down like snowflakes. We crossed through another courtyard to get to a giant door leading into the factory. It was locked tight.
I craned my head back to look up and found a balcony in the rough bricks. It was about three stories above us.
I closed my eyes. If I’d been at full strength, flying up there wouldn’t have been an issue. But I was feeling like dog crap. I pressed my hand to my belly. We had some food and supplies. We just needed to find a safe place to rest, somewhere private, so we could have sex to get back some shakti.
Figg frowned. “I could try and get us up there with air magic, but it might knock me flat. Rheesee, can you cast a spell?”
“I’m not the fancy schoolgirl with the concentration ink, Finniwigg. I would try, but I wouldn’t like our chances. Uma isn’t my best vidyala.”
“The Atvar Vidyala, the four branches of magic.” I wanted to check my skill tree, but again, we were relatively exposed, standing there in front of the locked doors.
The entrance gate creaked open and a familiar figure hurried forward.
Rhee let out a happy little squeal. “It’s our friend! Who is totally not our friend. We totally hate Broom.”
The red-haired woman stomped up to us. “I heard that, Rheesee Helleen. And yes, we’re totally enemies.” She drew a key from a pouch on her belt and opened the door. She then shoved us in and came in after us.