Wyrmrider Vengeance: An Underwater Magic Urban Fantasy (The Fomorian Wyrmriders Book 2)

by Theophilus Monroe

  He'd either masked his location somehow, in which case, he didn't want me to follow. Or, since he was with a Ruach, they'd created a wyrmhole and traveled out of the vicinity covered by my map.

  Chapter Eight

  The sound of screams started my attention.

  "Did you hear that?" I asked.

  Tahlia nodded. "I did... we should check it out."

  I darted out of my quarters, Tahlia followed me close behind.

  "La Sirene," Titus said, grabbing me by my arm as I made my way out of the palace spire.

  "Titus," I said. "What's going on?"

  "One of the sharks..."

  I cocked my head. "In Fomoria?"

  "Somehow, it got through the firmament."

  "Then what are you doing telling me about it?" I asked. "Get rid of it!"

  All three of us swam, flipping our tails hard, toward the sound of screaming.

  I could only pray no one had been bitten...

  A zombie shark plague is one thing. But if it started spreading amongst the merfolk...

  By the time we got to it, three of the legionnaires had already cornered it between two spires.

  The shark snarled. No, sharks don't usually do that. But this thing wasn't a typical shark.

  Thankfully, it wasn't large. Probably just a child. Its eyes glowed red. Its dorsal fin was missing a chunk of flesh as if another of the undead sharks had gotten hungry. Or, perhaps, it had just rotted off.

  I extended my hand and summoned my trident.

  "La Sirene!" one of the legionnaires said. "We've cornered it here. But I'm not sure how long we can hold it."

  "No need to hold it," I said.

  "We thought you might want us to capture it," the second legionnaire said. "Perhaps it could lead us to the rest?"

  I shook my head, and pushing my way between the two legionnaires, I charged the shark.

  It opened its jaws and tried to snap at me, but I fed it the sharp end of my trident instead, forcing it through the beast's skull.

  Its eyes turned from red to black, and its body fell limp.

  "Dispose of the body," I said to the legionnaires. "I appreciate the thought, but these things won't lead us to anyone. They're mindless. And keeping one alive inside the city is too great a risk."

  "Understood, La Sirene," the legionnaires said in concert. They were well trained, despite being relatively new. Titus had them barking off appropriate responses to my orders as if they'd been programmed.

  "If any of these show up in the city," I said. "No one needs to wait for me. Kill it as soon as you see it. We can't risk anyone being bitten."

  "Understood, La Sirene!" they said, again, in unison.

  I snorted. "Titus, how could this happen? The Firmament should have kept them out."

  Titus shook his head. "It's just a child. Perhaps the larger ones couldn't get through."

  I nodded. "Possibly. But we don't know for sure."

  "Only Admiral Agwe would know," Titus said. "He's the one who made the firmament."

  I sighed. "I know. But unfortunately, the Admiral is predisposed at the moment."

  Titus and the two legionnaires exchanged concerned glances.

  "What do you mean he's predisposed, La Sirene?" Titus asked.

  I sighed. "It doesn't matter."

  "Excuse me?" Tahlia asked. "How dare you talk to your queen that way!"

  "It's okay, Tahlia..."

  "No, it isn't," Tahlia continued. "She will tell you what you need to know when you need to know. Do you understand?"

  "Yes, priestess," Titus said. "My intent was not to offend your office, my queen."

  "I understand," I said, raising my hand to silence Tahlia before she could launch into another tirade. "This is what I want you to do. Keep the merlegion on full alert. Patrol the borders at the edge of the firmament. Don't allow any more sharks through. I'll be back as soon as possible."

  "Be back?" Titus asked. "Where are you going?"

  "To pay a visit to another queen," I said.

  "A queen? In another of Fomoria's outposts?" Titus asked. Technically, there were different Fomorian cities, like ours, elsewhere across the globe. Most notably, the one off the coast of Whales. I'd been there, though not once in the modern era. I'd been there through a portal that actually took us to the original Fomoria in ancient times. Visiting our sister kingdoms was on my agenda—I'd intended to do it soon, once I was confident our kingdom was safe and secure. Now, I wasn't sure when it would happen, if ever. We had a zombie-shark apocalypse on our hands, after all. Surviving that, and stopping it, was the first order of business. Which meant that the queen I had to visit was one I'd met once before. A human, or at least someone who was once a human, whose palace, if you could call it that, was in the back room of a headshop in the French Quarter.

  "I'm going to see the Voodoo Queen," I said. "She'll know what to do. Until I return, Tahlia's in charge."

  Titus grunted. He clearly expected he'd be in charge in my absence. But it wasn't long ago that he'd been complicit in the former king's treachery. Sure, he'd redeemed himself. I trusted him with the merlegion. But the whole kingdom? There was no one I trusted more than Tahlia—even though she flirted incessantly with my husband.

  Titus saluted me and turned to leave. The two legionnaires were busy wrapping up the zombie shark's desiccating corpse in seaweed. I ordered them to remove him from the city and bury his body on the ocean floor. Other fish eat the decaying flesh of the dead. And I didn't know if eating zombie meat would turn whatever ate it into zombies, too.

  I didn't know a whole lot, really. I mean, who did know much about zombies?

  I suppose, given my experience, I knew more than most. But even that was limited.

  Marie Laveau would know more. That's why I had to go see her.

  Tahlia grabbed me by the arm.

  "Yes, Tahlia?" I asked.

  "Why are you leaving me in charge?" Tahlia asked. "Shouldn't I go with you?"

  I shook my head. "You have Agwe's aspect. Despite being his wife, I don't."

  "It doesn't mean..."

  I raised my hand to cut her off. "Not my point. If he stops blocking you and you can speak to him, you need to let him know what happened. See if you can find a way to bolster the firmament to keep the sharks out."

  Tahlia nodded. "Smart."

  I smirked a little. "That's what I thought."

  "How will we know if something bad happens to you?" Tahlia asked.

  I shook my head. "I don't know. But I don't intend to come back without answers. Without a plan to stop the sharks and the bokors. With or without my husband's help."

  Chapter Nine

  The discovery of the shark inside Fomoria changed everything.

  Initially, Nammu wanted me to go with Tohu V'Bohu. We were to join Agwe and Ruach to avenge Enki's death. And, more importantly, save the world from a zombie shark apocalypse.

  But if sharks could get through the firmament, even if only the smallest ones, it would leave Nammu alone in the wyrm fields with her eggs. She'd have no one to protect her. I could send some legionnaires, perhaps, but then Fomoria would be vulnerable.

  After all, the merlegion was still rebuilding. And as hard-working as they might be, the new recruits were still exactly that—new recruits. They weren't the seasoned warriors that used to make up the merlegion.

  Since those veteran legionnaires all fell, Titus excepted, to the zombie curse of the bokors before... I hated to say it, but this new bunch didn't stand much of a shot.

  Not if they didn't stay within the firmament. Not if they didn't work together to protect the city.

  That meant the only option was for Tohu to stay behind to protect Nammu and her nest. And it also meant I was going out into the zombie-shark-infested seas alone.

  Hopefully not for long.

  I charged my pendant fully with Fomorian magic. Enough that, by connecting to the dragon's essence in my soul, I could use it as a pattern to shift into dragon form once I br
oke the surface.

  I brought pants with me this time.

  I'd learned that lesson the hard way the last time I went to the surface.

  I ended up having to steal a Louisiana state flag from a flagpole to cover myself with. Then, Marie Laveau's lackey, Chad, picked me up an awful pair of jeans from a thrift store—with a unicorn in sequins on the butt—which I had to wear until I resumed Mermaid form again.

  These pants were made of sea silk. It was the first piece I'd commissioned. I was still waiting for the rest. After they finished outfitting the new merlegion. A sea silk bra—because chaffing is an issue with seaweed. And, of course, all the ceremonial regalia. Come to think of it, I could use a good set of sea-silk armor myself.

  Sea silk is not like anything, most likely, you'd find on the surface. And I could only hope these pants would fit. Not only because I couldn't try them on unless I shifted into human form. Which can be a bit hazardous when I'm under the sea. Since I couldn't breathe. Not to mention the water pressure.

  I also had to hope Fomoria's tailors, who for the most part didn't craft much of anything apart from mermaid bikini tops, armor, and the occasional piece of ceremonial regalia, had done it properly. This was their first pair of pants.

  They looked like they'd fit. Presuming, of course, when I shifted back, I would be my normal size.

  In Fomoria, the diet is pretty restricted. It might be the one place in the world where there isn't a Mcdonald's. And as queen, that wasn't an issue I was inclined to remedy any time soon. Though, I'm sure if they knew we were here they'd find a way to invade us with a franchise.

  What we had was more like Long John Silvers—without the hush puppies and five pounds of deep-fried batter on everything. Come to think of it, I suppose, that meant it wasn't like Long John Silvers at all. Red Lobster, maybe? Regardless, the point is I couldn't imagine I'd gained weight as a mermaid. If anything, I'd lost a little and the pants would be a little loose.

  Not the end of the world. Much better to wear a pair of pants a little too big than too small. Despite what the latest fashion trends might dictate.

  I tucked my pair of pants, along with an extra bikini top, into a small bag made of seaweed. If I was holding onto it while shifting into dragon form, I'd still be holding it in my talons after changing shape.

  Hard lessons learned by experience. This time, I was prepared.

  I pressed my way through the firmament. It always resisted me a little. As a Fomorian, I could get through. As a half-human, though, it seemed to test me a little more than it did anyone else. Almost as if it was hesitant to let me pass.

  It hadn't been a problem yet. And even if it had, under normal circumstances, all I'd have to do is siphon the magic from the spot where I was passing. It would temporarily weaken enough to let me through.

  But this time, it wasn't just the firmament holding me back.

  I was full of trepidation, knowing what might await me on the other side. If one shark had gotten into the city, others couldn't be far off.

  Still, as I left the city and looked around, I didn't see anything. No red, beady, zombie eyes staring at me from a distance.

  I could only hope the one shark that got through was something of a fluke. The only reason it probably managed to get through the firmament was that it was so small. But what were the chances a baby zombie shark would be nearby without grown-ups also in the vicinity? I doubted I could be so lucky.

  I kicked my tail hard and made a beeline for the surface.

  I summoned my trident just in case.

  These weren't the waters where Great Whites were typically found. But then again, neither were the waters surrounding Fomoria. Not that they hadn't ever ventured into those depths, but it wasn't exactly their usual stomping grounds.

  Or, finning waters. You know, because they don't have anything to stomp with. Funny how often I catch myself using human idioms that no longer fit well with my mermaid experience.

  If I was dealing with regular sharks, I wouldn't usually have to worry about encountering them in these waters.

  But these were zombie sharks. If they were at all like the zombie humans I'd encountered before, their normal former species instincts would be replaced mainly by a mindless pursuit of flesh or, more specifically, brains.

  And by the will of whatever bokor had evoked them. Whoever had bound them enslaved these corpses to his or her command.

  Not to mention, it was likely by this time that the zombie curse, or virus, or whatever the hell it is, had spread beyond great whites.

  Even small fish I'd typically pay little mind to at all could be a threat if zombified. Of course, only a select few fish had teeth. That didn't mean, though, they might not be able to spread the contagion in other ways.

  In short, I trusted nothing. Not unless I could see its eyes and discern for sure that it was uninfected.

  So far, so good.

  I blasted through the surface, wind and sunlight striking me in the face for the first time in months.

  I inhaled, quickly attuning my magic to the dragon's essence in my soul. With a barrage of awkward sensations from cracking bones to hardening skin, I shifted into a dragon's shape. I spread my wings, catching the wind.

  I wasn't a full-sized dragon. I couldn't do that without absorbing extra mass beyond what my body naturally possessed—a risky process for various reasons—but I was sure I was sizable enough to terrify most humans who might see me.

  The solution to that, mainly since it was the middle of the day, was to fly as high as possible.

  Most people have their eyes glued to their phones. The rest, with few exceptions, are generally fixated on whatever's in front of them. At least based on my eighteen-plus years of non-interrupted experience as one, humans don't look up often. That didn't mean I couldn't be seen. Even if humans scan the horizon while driving or whatever, they look into the sky without looking up. Because, unlike what a few fringe flat-earthers on the Internet think, the planet is round.

  But at my size, most people who saw me would only see a small dot in the sky—if they even noticed that—and they'd have no idea they were spotting a dragon.

  At least that was my plan until I got closer to the French Quarter.

  At a certain point, I'd have to fly lower to get to my destination.

  My plan was to dive-bomb as quickly as possible. Fast enough that if anyone did a double-take, they would d miss me. Even if they thought they had seen a dragon, at first glance, by the time they looked again, I'd be gone. They'd more than likely dismiss what they saw as if their eyes were playing tricks on them.

  I've seen ghosts before. Actually spent some time with one as a girl—she helped me fend off the Caplata who attacked our family. But most ghost sightings are like that. Rarely does someone catch a full-bodied apparition that lingers in view. Most supposed ghost sightings are out of the corner of the eye. By the time someone turns and focuses their eyes, it's too late. The ghost has gone if there ever was one to begin with.

  Those who have personalities inclined to believe in such things will insist what they saw was genuine. Most people, though, will dismiss it. Even those who think they've seen a ghost will keep it to themselves. They don't want to appear crazy to their friends.

  This was the thinking under-girding my strategy to fly into New Orleans.

  The last time I'd done it, with Tahlia, it was dark...

  I wasn't inclined to wait until sunset. Not with zombie sharks potentially encroaching upon Fomoria's firmament or the one protecting the wyrm fields.

  So I was relying on my understanding of human behavior. In the end, what would be the worst that could happen? So, humans finally come to grips with the fact dragons exist. Most cultures, throughout history, believed in dragons anyway.

  If a few folks saw me, it wouldn't be the end of the world.

  If I didn't get to Marie Laveau, if I didn't figure out how to stop these zombie sharks, it could be.

  I flapped my wings intermittently to
maintain my height.

  Flying was freeing...

  Not just because letting the dragon inside of me "loose" gave me a sense of relief, but because in the skies, there was no pressure. I'm not talking about water pressure. I mean, there's nothing to watch, no responsibility, no merfolk who need protecting. No enchanted maps.

  Just me, myself, and the great wide open.

  Of course, I couldn't live like this forever. I couldn't abandon the world and take to the skies in dragon form indefinitely. The weight of the world pressed down upon me as I soared with the sense of weightlessness in my wings.

  But for a moment... I felt peace.

  All I needed was a moment. Brief escapes and moments of freedom. It reminded me why I was fighting. Why I couldn't stay like this forever.

  There was a whole world spinning beneath me.

  A world that would soon realize a nightmare if I failed. If Agwe and Ruach failed—no matter what they were up to—I was sure we had the same mission. To avenge Enki. To save the world.

  The easiest way to spot the French Quarter from the skies was to identify the cathedral in Jackson Square. I tucked my wings behind me with my destination in sight and angled my snout toward a spot in an alley behind Marie's headshop.

  Chapter Ten

  The one thing I wasn't exactly looking forward to was the inevitable encounter with Chad that awaited me as I walked through the front door of Marie's.

  The door dinged, alerting him someone had entered.

  He looked up, half-dazed, before a shit-eating grin split his face. "It's you!"

  "Last I checked," I said, looking myself up and down. "Yup, I'm still me."

  Chad cocked his head. "You know, that's something anyone could say to that greeting? Mind-blowing, isn't it?"

  I shook my head. Stoners, like Chad, seem to think that even the dumbest shit is somehow philosophical. "Not really. Where's Marie?"

  "I mean, if you're always you, it's true. But suppose you have multiple personalities. If that's the case, I could say, 'it's you,' but if you think the you I'm referring to is your alter-ego named Ricardo, you'd be like. Dude, no! You're so wrong!"