Milk & Croakies

by Sam Cheever

  I looked around, the wand still clutched in my hand. As I’d seen before, the cave was empty. So, why had I seen Walt and the dragon when the flames had come? And where had Hobs and Wicked been?

  “They’re behind a magic wall,” Hobs told me. “We were trying to talk to it, but the dragon doesn’t seem to understand us. I think it’s trapped in its feral form.”

  I knew a couple of dragons. Even considered one of them a friend, and I could imagine how Birte would feel if she was trapped as a dragon. “Maybe we can help.”

  Hobs frowned. “I think it’s this place, Miss.”

  “Because it amplifies magic?”

  He nodded. “The dragon is its magical form, so that’s the form the dimension forces her to stay in. She can’t escape it.”

  “How’d she get hold of Walt?”

  “As far as I can tell from your friend’s mumblings, she snatched him from the Demon.”

  “I need to get through that wall.” I looked down at the wand. Hmmm, I wonder. I held it up, “Bibbity Bobbity Boo!”

  Nothing happened.

  “Maybe you need to think about what you want it to do,” Slimy said.

  I took a deep breath, pointed the wand at a spot in the center of the wall, and thought about the wall disintegrating. The wand vibrated in my hand. Hope flared. The pink tip glowed almost red, bulged outward, and spit a rainbow of flowers into the air.

  I groaned, watching the flowers drift harmlessly to the ground. “It must have belonged to a witch with a passion for gardening.” I shoved the wand back into the burlap bag.

  Hobs held out his hand. “I’ll take you inside, Miss.”

  I settled Mr. Slimy on the ground next to Wicked. “Take care of each other,” I told them.

  “Ahhhhhhhhhhh!” Adelaide screamed, spitting out bits of the silvery leaves she’d been chewing.

  All of the blood drained from my face as the center of the wall started to glow and grew semi-transparent. I could see the dragon’s jewel-colored, slanted eyes through the illumination and realized what was about to happen.

  Adelaide looked too much like food to the feral creature. If she stayed where she was, she was going to be dragon kibble in about two seconds.

  But, as the illumination grew and the flame behind the wall coalesced into something deadly inside the dragon’s open maw, I realized I’d never make it to the goat in time.

  There was only one thing to do. I opened my mouth and shrieked loud enough to wake the dead. Or make a fainting goat faint.

  Thump. Adelaide hit the ground.

  The lethal flames roared harmlessly over her prone form, out into the still-rainy night. I raised the sword I hadn’t realized I’d grabbed, and leaped toward the opening created by the dragon’s fire-magic.

  13

  Above the fear of their loss…

  I landed on the edge of a foot-high rim of sticks and rocks, stumbling forward and barely catching myself before I fell into the slimy, stinky debris covering the bottom of the nest. The dragon threw back her head and roared, sending a fresh stream of fire in my direction. I dove to the side, heat searing the hairs on my arm but not quite burning me.

  The dragon surged to her feet, tail unwinding and lashing out so quickly I barely had time to jump the muscular appendage before I was skewered.

  “Run, Walt!” I yelled as the unfurling tail left him free. He didn’t waste any time. With an agile leap from the nest, Walt hit the shimmering magic of the wall and tumbled through, rolling to his feet on the other side.

  I was right behind him.

  The dragon burst through a beat later, her gaze like a forest fire in a windstorm, wild and raging as she opened her mouth again.

  I thought about the contents of my artifact bag. Was there anything I could use?

  Fiery death shot in my direction. On pure instinct, I lifted the sword in front of Walt and me, expecting to be burned alive.

  But the fire hit the blade and spun backward, returning to the dragon and sizzling harmlessly over her opaline scales.

  She tried two more times with the same result, and then slid her deadly tail over the floor of the cave, the agile appendage skimming dangerously close to Mr. Wicked and friends.

  “Get out of here!” I yelled to them. But before they could move toward the door, the dragon was suddenly there, blocking the opening with her huge, enraged form.

  To my surprise, she didn’t fling fire at us or try to skewer us with her tail. I looked into her eyes and saw something there that broke my heart. She looked…sad.

  I turned to Walt. “Why are you here?”

  He was pale and panting, but his gaze was on the dragon’s too and I could tell her sadness was affecting him. “She took me from the Demons and brought me here.”

  “She didn’t try to eat you?” Slimy asked, hopping closer.

  Walt fixed a startled look on the frog and shook his head. “No. I think she’s just lonely.”

  “Hobs says she’s locked into her dragon form,” I said. “If there are no other dragons in Plex, that means she’s alone. And will be for the foreseeable future.”

  “We could take her home with us,” Hobs said, his blue gaze liquid with compassion.

  It was an idiotic idea. An impossible one.

  Which, of course, was why I agreed to do it.

  Dawn was breaking over the horizon by the time we’d talked the dragon into coming with us and started off again. After much discussion, we decided that Hobs would stay on the ground because he could move fast. He’d carry Slimy, mostly because the frog refused to get back into the burlap sack, insisting it smelled like dirty feet in there. I had Wicked clutched in my arms, and Adelaide was lying across Walt’s legs. He grinned down at her as she let us know in her unfailing way that she was unhappy with her seat high in the sky.

  Sure, he thought it was funny now. He probably wouldn’t think all the caterwauling was funny after a couple of hours.

  We rode between the spikes of the dragon’s long, elegant back, the sun a warm promise on our faces as we headed toward the border we’d been trying to reach before we were attacked by Demons.

  That seemed like days ago.

  I had to admit, it was pretty cool riding a dragon. When I got home, I was going to convince Birte to give me the occasional ride around Enchanted just for giggles.

  Home. The thought made me both happy and sad. I wasn’t at all convinced we were ever going to see Enchanted again. There was a really good chance we’d be too late to make it across the breach. “Tell me what you have in mind once we get there,” I yelled over the wind.

  Walt half-turned my way, his expression relaxed. “I’m going to try to convince the Seer at the border to open the gate.”

  I frowned. “Won’t the wrinkle keep us from getting into the right dimension?”

  “It doesn’t work that way. A border gate is like one of those spinning doors. You select your destination by thought and intention.”

  “Wait, if there’s a gate, why don’t we just use it to leave? Why do we need a Seer at all?”

  “It’s not that easy. The gate is hidden unless a Seer calls it forward. And the PTB have declared that no one is to leave Plex because of something that’s been going on in the Universe.”

  I was pretty sure I knew what that something was. Things had been wonky for a while. My friends who’d been around long enough to have direct knowledge of the first Dark Rages were speculating that we might have another one if the magic wasn’t untangled soon. They thought somebody was behind the problems with the PTB process. I suddenly wondered if it could be a Seer. “Do you think this Seer will help us?”

  Walt shrugged. “That depends upon who I’m talking to. Some of the Seers are risk-averse.”

  “Do you know the Seer we’re going to talk to?”

  He shook his head. “No. The only Seer I’ve ever met is the one in Wilshire Plex. He’s been there for centuries so he wouldn’t have any knowledge of border issues.”

  I though
t of the advice we’d gotten from the Seer with the antique watch in his pocket. “Even if he did, we probably wouldn’t understand it.”

  Walt nodded and fell silent.

  I didn’t instigate any further conversation. Mainly because my mind was swirling with questions and possibilities. The lockdown on Plex fit well into the recent problems with PTBs and the artifact process I’d been experiencing. Was it another piece in the puzzle Madeline Quilleran was trying to solve? And, if so, how did it fit? What were the Seers doing when they left Plex? Were they deliberately setting about to entangle the magical processes? Or was the discombobulation simply the result of their breaking magical law?

  I promised myself I’d talk it over with Madeline when…if…I got back. Maybe we could find the missing Seers and turn them over to the Universe. If they were captured, maybe things would go back to normal in my world.

  Or maybe there was no normal there. A part of me believed that chaos was the normal course of business at Croakies. And I honestly couldn’t imagine it being any other way.

  At some point in my musings, I must have fallen asleep. I jolted awake when my seat fell out from under me, and gave a sharp scream as the dragon leaned to the left and set her wings against the air in a braking motion.

  Wicked yowled as I squeezed him close, but didn’t smack me with a claw to gain release. Even the fearless feline apparently wasn’t keen on falling a mile out of the sky to splat against the rocky dirt of Plex.

  The reality of the Plex border was decidedly underwhelming. It consisted of a small hut in the middle of a wide-open, vegetation-free zone that was scoured by wind and baked by the dual suns. A small creature in an oversized, hooded white robe stood outside the hut, arms crossed over its middle and hands tucked beneath the robe. The face which was mostly covered by the hood, pointed skyward, watching the dragon descend with no visible sense of surprise.

  Most likely, living in a neutral zone between several dimensions, most of them magical, would make a person immune to such things. Though I didn’t know how a person could ever become used to seeing a dragon in full flight. Especially one with a goat, a cat, and two people perched on its back.

  The dragon made a surprisingly gentle landing, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Then it hopped ten feet off the ground before stopping, and the hop caught us completely off guard.

  I flew off of the dragon’s back and somersaulted through the air with Wicked caterwauling in my arms. I was vaguely aware of Walt flying past, still holding Adelaide, and heard the thump-slide-splat of their landing right after mine.

  We lay there groaning for a beat. I didn’t know about Walt, but I was busy cataloging my potential injuries before I tried to stand.

  Everything seemed to be in working order, so I shoved upright, groaning loudly. Nothing was broken, but that didn’t mean everything wasn’t bruised and painful.

  Wicked scampered toward the hut as a small figure dressed in a white tunic, white pants, and a red and green Christmas scarf stepped out of it.

  Blast the goddess’s green panties! Hobs had beat us there. Next time I was riding the hobgoblin instead of the dragon. It would be faster and far less…fall-y.

  A tiny green form hopped to greet Wicked, earning a touch to his nose as they met up. I smiled as I always did when I saw the frog and cat together. They were such an odd match-up. And so adorably weird.

  The dragon’s long body rippled, the wings snapping against the air, and it coughed out a cloud of gray smoke.

  As the Seer approached, the dragon stepped backward, moving to stand behind Walt and me as if we were going to protect her.

  I rolled my eyes, a wave of nostalgia for Sebille hitting me as I did. She performed the disgusted eye-roll so much better than me. I spoke over my shoulder to the massive reptile whose very deadly snout was mere inches from the back of my neck. I knew this because I could feel her “just this side of painful” hot breath on my skin. “You know he can still see you, right?”

  The dragon huffed out another cloud of smoke, making Walt and I cough.

  “Welcome,” said a light, feminine voice.

  I blinked in surprise, barely refraining from glancing toward Walt. The Seer was a woman. I gave her a smile, my fingers twitching to offer her a handshake before I caught myself. Walt hadn’t welcomed my attempt to shake hands before, so I assumed Plexians didn’t do it. Not every dimension saw the common Earthly greeting practice as harmless and friendly. Some apparently drew weapons when a hand was offered without being encouraged. “Hello. I’m Naida, Keeper of the Artifacts in the Earth dimension.”

  Walt gave the woman a low bow. Very low. Comically low. His nose touched his knees before he straightened again. He looked at me and despair razored through me. There was no way I could touch my knees with my nose. I’m not bendy like that.

  “Um…” I said. “Okay, well…” I bent as well as I could and was happy when my eyes got close enough to see my knees.

  Go me.

  The Seer pushed back the hood, revealing shiny red hair, moss-green eyes, a pretty freckled face, and a smile that told me she’d noted my embarrassing lack of bendiness. Fortunately, she seemed willing to give me the unbendy-Earth-woman pass. “I am Diandra. It will be my pleasure to serve. How might I aid you in your journey?”

  My journey? Apparently, old Diandra wasn’t going to invite us to stay. She seemed anxious for us to be on our way. Lucky for her, I shared that sentiment. “We were accidentally pulled into Plex by a dimensional wrinkle. We wish to return to our own dimension.”

  Diandra stared at me a long moment, her pert nose wrinkling slightly, which made her more approachable and less Seer-like. “My heart breaks to disappoint. I’m sure Wilshire Walt has informed you of the impossible nature of your request.”

  I snorted and both Plexians looked at me as if I had frog poop on my face. Wait? Did I have frog poop on my face? I ran a hand over my nose and cheeks, finding nothing and gave them a thoughtful expression. “Yes, erm, Wilshire…” I couldn’t finish. The moniker made my buddy Walt sound like a gunslinger in a really bad Western movie. “Walt explained to me that the gate has been closed.”

  Diandra shook her head. “It is worse than that. I’m afraid someone has sheered the wrinkle off. The original path you took is no longer viable. I’m afraid you are stranded here in Plex.” She tried a smile, possibly hoping to soften the bad news. “I’m sure you will enjoy living here. We are a very likable people.”

  A range of emotions slid over my face. Horror, anger, fear, more horror… I suddenly found it hard to breathe and I struggled not to melt into a puddle of despair.

  Misreading my emotional turmoil, Diandra took a step back and lifted her hands, pale green energy flaring from her palms.

  The sight made my stomach twist with distress. Between the red hair and freckles, and the earth-tinged magic, Diandra reminded me too much of Sebille. I missed Sebille. I missed Lea. I even missed Madeline Quilleran. In that moment they seemed even farther away than they had since I’d first become stranded in Plex.

  “I’m sorry, Miss,” Hobs said. “I tried to pop home, but I ended up in a different dimension. I can’t get us back anymore.”

  Tears burned in my eyes. I sniffed, nodding. “Okay, well…”

  “Where is the nearest Artifact Keeper?” Walt asked, surprising me.

  Diandra blinked in surprise, her expression thoughtful. “Keeper? Let’s see, I believe Dimension thirteen has one. The Lang Dimension. But the Keeper resides on the far side of the dimension. It’s quite a trek. Also, there’s a Universal Depot on twenty-four. It would be possible to reach a Keeper using the depot.”

  Hope flared. I turned to Walt and gave him a wide smile. “You’re a genius.”

  His smile settled my roiling stomach. “Do you think it will work?” he asked.

  Having traveled from one dimension to another using a depot once before, I knew it would work, but I wasn’t looking forward to the experience. And I wasn’t entirely sure I had th
e firepower to use a depot by myself. When I’d gone before, Wicked and I had been guided by Madeline Quilleran. Without the witch…

  I gave Diandra an assessing look. Her green eyes widened and she did a thing with her head where she adjusted it backward on her neck, like an ostrich. “Do you know how to engage a Universal Depot?”

  She paled, no easy feat given the fact that she already had milk-white skin. “That is outside my purview as Seer…”

  “Naida is a person of great importance to the Universe,” Walt said quickly.

  Diandra hesitated, giving me an assessing look. But she shook her head. “I…I am not at liberty…”

  “Her loss would create stress in the system,” Walt told the Seer. “It is your job as Seer to make sure that doesn’t happen. I believe that makes aiding her safe transport out of Plex part of your job.”

  When Diandra continued to hesitate, I said, “Please? We only want to go home.”

  She eyed the burlap bag over my shoulder, a speculative gleam entering her gaze. “As I have said, it is outside my purview to aid you in leaving Plex.”

  Hope flew away on spindly wings. My shoulders sagged.

  “However, I will consider a trade. My expertise for that bag.”

  I felt my eyes go wide. “This bag?” Sudden doubt replaced elation. “Why? What does it do?”

  “You do not know?”

  I shook my head, glancing at Walt. He shrugged.

  She sighed. “It is a rare treasure. It produces what you need most in any given moment.”

  I thought of the sword that appeared in my hand in the dragon’s lair. Embarrassment brought a flush to my face. If only I’d known.

  The bag shifted against my hip and I looked down as Hobs reached a long-fingered hand into it and came away with a greasy bakery bag that smelled of chocolate. I blinked in surprise.

  The Seer’s pretty face brightened. “May I?” She reached toward the bag.

  “Of course.” I held it out to her and she placed a hand inside, pulling out a small book with a gilded title across its burgundy leather cover. She laughed in delight as she saw it. “I have been so dreadfully bored,” she explained. “This hut isn’t exactly entertainment central.” She stared at the book as one might look at a cherished child.