Dragon’s unpredictability was what scared her the most. He was capable of anything and there was very little anyone could do to stop him if he went berserk.
“Explain what is happening to you,” she ventured.
“I’m becoming stronger every day.”
“You mean physically?”
“Yes, and magically. I can feel it absorbing into me, becoming part of me. I don’t think I can control it.”
“You’ve done fine so far.”
Dragon stood and walked toward her. “I am losing control and am a danger to everyone. You need to kill me, Gypsy, while you still can.”
Placing her hand on the hilt of her sword, she stepped back, putting another foot of distance between them.
“Don't say that. I am not going to kill you because you think you are a danger.” The annoying headache that had begun throbbing in her temples had spread to the base of her skull. A sudden weakness returned and almost made her knees buckle. It was without a doubt the Primal Fever, but some supernatural force was corrupting and using it to ravage her mind.
Then a voice, maybe Kharon's, or maybe Dragon's said, “Look with your eyes.” The conflict in her brain made her view Dragon with double vision. In a frantic bid for control, she squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed them vigorously.
Parting her eyelids, she was horrified to see Titan standing in front of her where Dragon had been. His golden eyes blazed with ferocious rage. But the direction of his fury wasn’t at her. It was at the real Dragon coming to stand between her and her grandfather.
Dragon glared at his father. “What do you want, Titan?”
Titan shrugged casually. “I want what everyone else wants. I want you back with me or dead.”
“Neither of those things will happen for you, Father.” Dragon seethed with even more venom than she had ever heard from Gavin while addressing him.
Titan grimaced and glared at Gypsy. “I should have used the direct approach with you to begin with, Gypsy. You will rid us of this abomination because you owe me.”
“Owe you? What the hell are you talking about, Titan? I don't owe you a fucking thing!”
“Surely you remember when you came to me and begged for my help? You wanted to be a warrior. I’ve given you what you wanted, and Dragon's death is the fee I now require.”
More angry than scared, she pointed at the old wizard defiantly. “Yes, I do remember and I also remember you refused me! All I got was a few minutes with my dead brother, Northe. I got no other help from you.”
Titan smiled. “No, I have been helping you this entire time. You would be nothing without me. All your successes have come by my invisible hand. Do you really think a mere half-human girl could have achieved what you have without any assistance?”
“It’s a lie, Gypsy,” Dragon said. “He told Gavin the same thing when he began accumulating his achievements. You know the truth as does everyone else. He is only trying to manipulate you.”
Titan smiled wickedly. “Go ahead and refuse. Dragon will end up killing you all and then I’ll take my revenge out on your poor, defenseless mother, or maybe your even more defenseless sister.”
Following his leer to the doorway, she saw Missy hiding behind the ruined door peering out at them with large, frightened eyes that never left Titan.
Gypsy snarled, pulling her sword, but Dragon remained unyielding between them. Dragon shook his head at her. “Put away your weapon. Don’t let him bait you. Your mother is under my protection, as is Missy. Titan can’t harm either of them and he knows it.”
The smile faded from Titan’s lips as he stared at Dragon with rabid hatred. “You truly think you are that powerful? Well, you shouldn’t. All you have are a few spell pages. I have had over a millennium of training and practice in the art of sorcery, while you are nothing more than a defective mental patient who is one injection away from spiraling into a psychotic murderer. You are no match for me, boy. You are not nearly as capable as you imagine you are.”
“If that is true, then why are you so angry?” Dragon responded, his face devoid of expression.
“I’m not angry. You amuse me, nothing more. We will meet again soon.” With those last words, Titan vanished. The sickness permeating the air evaporated like it had never been there.
Sheathing her sword, Gypsy folded her arms trying to banish the chill her grandfather always left after their encounters. She looked back toward the doorway and was thankful Missy had gone back inside.
Turning back to Dragon she asked, “Are you stronger than he is?”
Dragon stared at the spot where Titan had been. A thread of dark green swirled around his pupil. When he grinned it was both triumphant and chilling. Then the strange color faded from his bright green eyes. He met her gaze and she could almost feel the electric charge of his building strength.
An evil chuckle tumbled from his chest. “I really have no idea. I guess if he continues to screw with us we’ll find out, won’t we?”
Scowling in defeat, she sat down on the rickety bench, staring into the burnt remnants of the fire pit. Too bad they couldn't risk having a fire. It was so damned cold here. “We'll never be rid of him, will we?”
Dragon came over and sat next to her. “Never is a very long time, Gypsy, now isn't it?”
Chapter 21
The Razorback Hospital made Harlan feel like she had been transported to the future from the dark ages. There wasn't just one medical building, but three. One building was for pediatrics, one a specialty clinic and research facility, and one for critical care and surgery.
Harlan was escorted into the critical care building by Khalee and paused by a white stone wall with names carved into it. She didn’t know why she stopped. Maybe she recognized a name or two. At the top, spanning the eight columns of names, it read, Through the generosity of our benefactors. Some, if not all of the hospitals had been built with the aid of donations. Charity was probably the only way she would be able to re-equip her own hospital. Stepping over to the first set of names, she scanned the black-lettered list. One of the names that stood out at the top of the column made her so angry she could barely think. The name was His Most Gracious Highness, The Emperor Megolyth.
“That son of a bitch,” Harlan seethed.
A group of Kirillian doctors rushed by, one of them jostling her in the process. Harlan barely noticed, nor did she care. All she could think of was the years of excuses the Emperor had given her as to why he couldn't provide more medical funding. Her clinic had operated with bare-bones staff and equipment for decades. And then when it was time for him to make good on his promise and build a real hospital, he couldn’t even finish that! The hospital she had spent so many years trying to make real was looted and failing because of his selfishness.
Khalee stared at the wall looking for whatever had made Harlan so angry. “What are we looking at?”
“That spiteful dirty bastard.”
“Who?” Khalee asked.
“His Most Gracious Highness, The Emperor Megolyth,” Harlan read from the wall, hissing the ‘s’ in Highness.
“Oh yeah, that,” Khalee said. “I saw that too.”
“Doctor Theron?”
An older humanoid woman joined them in the entry hall. The woman had copper colored irises split by a crescent pupil and, since she wasn’t large enough to be Kirillian, Harlan guessed her to be Asguardian. Her grey and white streaked hair was pulled back into a tight bun and she wore a lab coat several sizes too big. Dressed in dark violet scrubs with brown leather boots, she walked over to them with short, quick movements like Harlan might bolt at any moment.
“I’m Doctor Ruxen. You may call me Amber,” the woman said to Harlan. They shook hands. “I can’t tell you what a pleasure it is to meet you. You are quite a legend on my planet.”
Harlan barely forced a smile. “Thank you, that’s very kind. May I ask you a question?”
Amber folded her arms and regarded the donor wall. She seemed to have a sense of what this was ab
out. “Of course.”
“How much did my Emperor donate to this hospital?”
Amber tilted her head down and looked at Harlan with what could only be described as an acknowledged sympathy. It was a gesture that told Harlan the answer was going to make her really, really angry. “A lot. And he donated even more after two of his children contracted Serillian Fever and he sent them here for treatment.”
Harlan pursed her lips. “He sent them here for treatment.”
“I understand why you're upset,” Amber said. “We were all wondering the same thing. But why don’t you let me show you around? At least you'll have a chance to get comfortable and rest before you begin surgery.”
Nodding numbly, she followed Amber around as the older doctor showed her the physicians' lounge, patient rooms, and surgical suites. It was almost too much to take. Everything, even the bathrooms were state-of-the-art. Did they seriously need Megolyth’s money more than his own citizens? Queen Nineveh had her own wealthy nobles, not to mention the revenue from their off-world exports. Why did the Razorback Queen get funds that should have gone to their own medical program? Countless warriors had died defending his Empire because Harlan didn’t have a fraction of the staff and equipment they had here.
Unbelievable.
The three of them walked through the entire building with Harlan paying almost no attention until they walked outside to a terrace. Looking over the railing, she counted four stories down. There were small groupings of tables, chairs and benches. Some of the medical personnel were eating lunch. Harlan thought about the broken stone wall attached to the side of her clinic. She had spent the better part of twenty years sitting on that wall eating her lunch.
When the hospital was built, Megolyth was so goddamn cheap she'd had to convert a small storage area into a break room without him knowing. God, I hope this tour is over soon. I can't rub my face in this bullshit much longer.
Amber's voice had faded to the background as the obsessive fury continued to spread through Harlan's head. She was angrier about this than she had been about anything in a long time. Had Megolyth done this out of spite? How could he justify sending this foreign hospital funding when she couldn’t even get him to build a hospital in his own Empire. She was barely able to get him to cough up enough funds to run her clinics before that. And when he had finally built the hospital, he squandered the resources he needed to keep it going.
They were walking again. At the other end of the terrace was a metal bridge that crossed to a smaller building. The bridge had been painted silver with red accents and was partially covered by a glass roof. They walked across to the smaller building, into the double glass doors and down the hall, passing a few numbered doors. They stopped in front of a door about halfway down the hall and Harlan noted an empty chair to the left of it.
“And this,” Amber said opening the door to a spacious apartment, “will be your accommodations. There are two bedrooms, bathrooms, and a small kitchen. I hope you’ll be comfortable.”
Harlan forced another weak smile. “I’m sure it will be fine.”
Khalee walked in past her. Dropping onto the couch, she bounced a few times. Her hands smoothed along the furniture’s fabric as a smile spread across her lips. Clearly she was pleased with their temporary home.
Amber hesitated. “I’m afraid we have been instructed to have guards posted on your room.”
“That,” Harlan said not bothering to hide her disgust, “is a complete waste of everyone's time. I will honor my commitment.”
“I believe you, Harlan. But the Queen is not as trusting. Once you have settled in, please go to the doctors’ lounge in an hour. There you will be taken to a specialized surgical ward so you can get set up. It was nice meeting you.”
* * * *
Even a shower and a change into some fresh clothes didn't improve her mood. Black scrubs. How appropriate. Tying her hair back into a loose braid, Harlan came out of the bedroom and headed for the door. Khalee followed her out of the apartment and back across the bridge to the hospital. Not entirely sure of her location, Harlan let Khalee take the lead to the doctors’ lounge. When they stopped in front of the door, Harlan turned toward the young woman.
“Go away.”
“But I’m supposed to guard you,” she stammered.
“I told your Queen that I would help these people. Do you really think I’m going to run off from the hospital?”
“Well, no, probably not.”
“Good, then shoo. I'll meet you on the terrace at the end of my shift.”
Khalee walked away tensely, muttering to herself. Once the young woman was out of sight, Harlan came into the doctor’s lounge. There were five male Kirillian doctors sitting around a large round table in the center of the room. They all stared at her silently like she had just dropped through the ceiling. Then, all at once they stood and clapped.
Now it was her turn to stare in stunned silence. Was this some kind of joke?
One of the men, a medical military officer, walked over from the back of the room. His tall boots thumped on the pristine white floor as he approached. The man looked to be older than Krull, but she was never good at guessing ages. He was tall, broad-chested, with a wide, chiseled jaw and shoulder-length dark brown hair. His soulless eyes were the blackest Harlan had ever seen.
Clad in a twilight blue uniform bearing several insignias and a few military medals, she recognized it as a Chief Medical Officer’s uniform from the Kirillian fleet. The duo emblems on the high collar of his jacket depicted two serpents intertwined, facing each other with their fanged mouths open and a dagger between them. How could this possibly get any worse?
A current of nervous fear spiked through her body causing her palms to break into a hot sweat. Having worked with the Kirillians over many years, coupled with the time she spent on one of their medical tenders during Gavin’s spine replacement, she was no stranger to the symbol. In fact, this man’s designation was quite notorious in the professional gossip circles outside Kirillia. The man belonged to a special Kirillian research group. They were the pride and joy of the Kirillian medical community. The Sandman Corps. Unfortunately, most of the research they did was tainted by the fact that they experimented on captives. Some of their subjects, as they liked to call them, were purchased slaves and some were abducted from Kirillian slums and even other planets. The apathetic brutality in which they conducted their experiments was nothing short of horrific. Standing in such close proximity to one of these Sandmen was reigniting her rage all over again.
As a culture, the Kirillians had embraced technology with the vigor of a child reaching for a candy bar. Unlike AEssyria and some of the other nearby worlds, their entire planet was ruled by one government. Harlan would never call it a democracy or even a republic. She preferred to compare their leaders to South American drug lords, but no one ever got her reference, except of course for Scarlet. So when the Kirillians were accused of kidnapping people from other planets they simply denied it. They were the most high-tech race in the solar system, so what recourse did anyone have? Most planetary kingdoms and governments turned a blind eye. That was until they screwed with the AEssyrians.
The AEssyrians are very proprietary in nature, be it over their wives, family, livestock, land or even a complete stranger. They were also extremely xenophobic. It didn't matter what atrocities one AEssyrian committed upon another as long as it was among AEssyrians. From the interplanetary gossip mill she'd heard rumor of a Dr. Nathaniel Ross, about eight to ten years ago, who had manage to abduct some AEssyrians living in remote villages. Naturally, no Razorbacks had been taken. Not so easy to snatch a species that can release a spate of venom corrosive enough to melt you into a pile of goo.
Once again the Kirillian government denied kidnapping anyone, but the native outrage was so intense that new Kirillian visitors were briefly banned. Even though recently the ban had been lifted, all Kirillians were still eyed with a hefty degree of suspicion. It had practically taken an act o
f God for her to hire Krull and get him residency status. Megolyth told her at the time it wasn't a politically safe move to allow any Kirillian medical professionals into his Empire. Short of sleeping with the Emperor, she had made all kinds of budgetary concessions to get Krull. She wasn't sure if it was her persistence, or Megolyth had simply gotten tired of her constant badgering, but Harlan was finally successful in getting Krull’s approval to move to the Empire.
As it turned out, she’d hit the jackpot with Krull. He was a low-key, excellent doctor who never seemed to stop working. The man standing before her, however, was something entirely different. Sam's defection to the Triumvirate isn't looking like such a mystery anymore.
“Hello, Doctor Theron. My name is Strom Lughar. I will be escorting you to the specialty surgery ward.”
“What the hell was all the applause about?”
Giving a brief, almost admonishing glance around at the other doctors, he dismissed her question with a wave. The remaining physicians had returned to their conversations.
“We are all familiar with your work here. You may not be aware of this, but you are greatly respected in our medical community. They just wanted to show their regard.” He smiled and gestured toward the door.
Great. That's all I've ever wanted was to be admired by some Kirillian medical sadists. Stiffly she walked toward the exit like she was headed for the gallows. Strom said, “My admiration of you is much more recent.”
“Really and why is that?” She tried not to sound bitchy, but she already hated this guy.
“You are a pioneer. You have provided more information and documentation about the AEssyrians than anyone.” He held the door open for her as she crossed into the hallway.
“Yep, and I didn't have to kidnap and torture any of them to do it,” she blurted out before she could stop herself. I have got to get my attitude under control or I'll never get out of here.
Strom ignored her sarcasm and continued speaking as they headed down toward an enormous spiral staircase that ran up the middle of the building.
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