by Ann Gimpel
“Thanks.” Daide looked away.
“Did the dragon tell you how it got here?” Karin urged. “Was it another casualty of the Cataclysm?”
“Go on, amigo.” Recco elbowed Daide. “Tell them what you were in the middle of telling me.”
Daide’s face turned ruddy, and he stared at his boots before curling his big hands into fists. “It chose to go to ground here. I’m not sure when. It never mentioned the Cataclysm. Someone at the base discovered its presence and freed it from ice where it had been frozen for god only knows how long.”
“How long ago?” Zoe kept her voice soft, her question nonconfrontational.
“I’m not certain, some years after the Cataclysm was in full swing. I don’t understand why the poisoned ocean water didn’t kill it.”
“Maybe it wasn’t as toxic here,” Karin muttered.
“What exactly did it want from you?” Zoe tweaked her spell. Daide flinched, so it must have zapped him.
“Is that really necessary? Christ. You have me cornered.”
“Maybe it was overkill.” Zoe reeled in her magic. “Will you answer my question now?”
Daide nodded. “It wanted me to seal it back into its crypt or tomb or wherever it chose to wait out Armageddon.” His deep voice vibrated with emotion. “The fish are only now returning, but whoever released him has been force-feeding him humans for years. He’s disgusted and appalled. He wants out, except he can’t break free.”
“What would happen if he swam away?” Recco asked.
“He said he’s tried, gets confused, and ends up treading in circles in the Ross Sea.”
Truth pinged cleanly off Daide’s words. “Why’d you craft a batch of half-truths for Karin?” Zoe asked.
He raised his chin and met her gaze squarely. “Because I hadn’t given up on finding a way to help the dragon. I made peace with my coyote after it marked me. My bondmate didn’t understand, and it was jealous.”
“Is your coyote willing to help now?” Karin spoke up.
“Yes. Frankly, I could give a fuck less about whoever’s left at McMurdo. I want to honor the poor beast out there. We’re the first people who’ve been here since the Cataclysm. The way things are going, it could be years before another ship stops.”
The PA system crackled. “To the bridge, pronto,” Viktor said. “Boats are headed our way.”
Recco and Daide stared at each other. “The gangway,” Recco muttered. “It’s got to be up.”
“I’ll check it,” Daide said. “The rest of you get to the bridge and tell them not to let anyone board.”
“On my way.” Karin bolted from the cabin.
“I’ll pull up the rope ladder on the other side of the ship,” Zoe said, leaving the room at a run before she was even done speaking.
She burst through a side door, not bothering to bundle her clothing close. She wouldn’t be outside long enough to worry about freezing to death. Skidding to a halt in front of the handles that raised and lowered the thick ropes, she gave them a solid twist. They were coated with rime ice and didn’t budge. Zoe grabbed the grips with both hands and really put her back into it. Grunting, sweating, swearing, she forced them to move a quarter turn at a time.
Before she was done, the drone of outboard motors reached her, but she was on the wrong side of the boat to see them. Damn. How many were there? She bent over the rail and assessed the rope. It was winding in easier now, so she raised it another three feet. Satisfied she’d done all she could, she ducked back inside and hastened to the bridge.
Chapter Ten: Skin in the Game
Recco ran to the gangway and breathed a little easier when he saw the ladder fully retracted and parallel with the waterline. A staunch breeze was picking up speed under gray skies, and visibility was still decent. Three small outboard crafts skimmed across the bay, fighting two-foot swells. At least it slowed them down. Zodiacs were better equipped to deal with rough water since their rubber bodies flexed.
“Don’t trust me by myself, huh?” Daide sent a sour look his way. Before Recco could come up with something to soften the truth in his friend’s words—it wasn’t about trust so much as making certain the dragon didn’t interfere—Daide clapped him on one shoulder. “I wouldn’t trust me, either. Come on.”
Recco raced up the stairs after him. The bridge was crowded when they got there. He scanned the crowd for Zoe but didn’t see her. Maybe he should run back down and offer to help with the rope ladder. He crossed the bridge, intent on the door to access Arkady’s port side, when Zoe blew through it. Her cheeks were white from cold, and she’d stuffed her hands in the pockets of her parka.
“I was headed your way,” he said, aiming for a tone that didn’t suggest a lack of faith in her competency.
“No need. ’Tis done.” Skirting around him, she half ran to the windows, looking out.
“Most of us are here,” Viktor said. “There’s been no further communication from McMurdo, and those boats launched a few minutes ago. One is definitely in the lead. I have no fucking idea why those people disregarded my requests.”
“My guess,” Juan cut in, “is someone made a break for it, and those others have some skin in the game. Either they don’t want the first batch to reach us at all, or they decided if the getting was good, they were jumping on the last train out of Dodge.”
Aura snorted. “You’ve watched way too much American television.”
Daide surged toward the door, but Recco caught him up before he got outside. “What is it?”
“Watch.” Daide jerked his chin at the tableau playing itself out in the cove between them and the research base.
“If you know something”—Viktor raised his voice for emphasis—“let’s hear it.”
“The sea dragon is furious. It’s bugling in my head when it’s not cursing.”
“What does it have to do with whoever’s in those boats?” Juan asked.
“The quick and dirty version”—Daide turned away from the windows—“is someone at the base forced it from its lair, and then imprisoned it.”
“It approached Daide, requesting assistance,” Karin spoke up, aiming her words at Viktor. “Which is close to what I told you, except you were too wrapped up in watching the motorboats to pay much attention.”
“The sea dragon wasn’t part of the equation, then,” Viktor muttered. Annoyance turned his eyes a darker green, and he said, “Sorry, I’ll try to do better. Feel free to clunk me over the head if I’m not as present as you need me to be.”
“The dragon’s out there. I see it.” Zoe slapped a palm on the glass.
Recco hustled to her side, staring in the direction she indicated. Sure enough, the creature’s dark, triangular head had broken the waterline. Opening its mouth, it screeched an unmistakable challenge, audible through the bridge’s thick windows.
Four people were in the lead boat. One of them rose to his feet, a rifle balanced over one shoulder.
“Nooooo,” Daide screeched.
The sea dragon dove beneath the choppy waves just before the rifle’s report blasted, loud and lethal.
“Where’s the polar bear gun?” Daide planted himself in front of Viktor.
“In the locker nearest the gangway on Deck Three,” Viktor said. “You’ll never retrieve it and get it loaded in time. Besides, the sea dragon seems like it can hold its own.”
“I’m getting it anyway.” Daide ran out of the bridge.
“Ted. Boris. Man the anchor.” Viktor’s command was terse.
“Do you mean pull anchor?” Ted asked, seeking clarification.
After a short pause, Viktor said, “Yes. Originally, I’d planned to have you standing ready. My raven is squawking up a storm. If things turn to shit, it’ll happen fast. Hauling up the anchor takes time. We may not have any to spare if we need to power out of here.”
“Got it.” Boris faded through a side door, pulling on a jacket as he went. Ted followed him.
“Makes it more dangerous for the folk in those
boats to use the gangway,” Juan observed.
“You think I don’t know that, mate?” Viktor’s nostrils flared. “I’d be more inclined to put their safety first if they’d followed through on their end. Given us the information we need, rather than just showing up.”
“Agreed. This feels a whole lot like Arctowski. I’m trying to argue myself out of it,” Juan muttered.
“Makes two of us.” Viktor turned away, studying the bank of instrumentation next to the helm.
Recco’s brain churned as he sorted through possibilities. He tapped Zoe’s arm. “If whoever trapped the dragon is in one of those boats, wouldn’t they be able to control it?”
“Not necessarily.” She creased her forehead into a worried expression. “It’s not easy to corral something with magic. You have to keep changing the spell or it will discover a way to elude you.”
“Like bacteria and antibiotics,” he muttered. “Creative little bastards develop immunities, and it forces us to develop stronger drugs.”
“Exactly.” Approval flashed from her brown eyes.
“If the dragon hasn’t found a way out, it must mean a powerful sorcerer is behind this.” Recco’s stomach tightened as adrenaline surged. He wanted to launch a raft and challenge the son of a bitch. The sea dragon was a magnificent creature. It deserved freedom.
Zoe nodded. “To force a dragon to his will, he’d have to be strong.”
“Might be a her. Your prejudices are bleeding through.”
Zoe snorted. “Aye, sure and no woman could be quite so wicked. Look.”
He followed the line of her extended finger. Sure enough, the dragon was back. Farther out this time, but clearly with its own agenda. The figure in the boat had shifted to a kneeling position, rifle raised and ready.
“Can anything as prosaic as a bullet penetrate those scales?” Recco asked.
She glanced his way. “Dragons are immortal. It’s how this one survived encased in ice or wherever it hid itself.”
Daide ran out onto the broad deck he’d stood on earlier, the Ruger Guide gun tucked beneath one arm. Ted and Boris emerged a moment later and veered hard right to hunker over the anchor housing.
“Crap. Got to stop Daide before he shoots someone by mistake. He’s developed a real savior complex around the sea dragon.” Juan zipped into a parka, snapped on mitts, and pelted from the bridge after grabbing a bullhorn from its charging cradle.
“I’m going down there too,” Recco said. Worry for Daide filled him. Maybe the sea dragon’s motives had been pure, but he wouldn’t bank on it. If it could use Daide in some way to buy its freedom, it would.
Zoe followed him outside, working her zipper up to her chin and flipping her hood over her bright hair. “Damn near froze my ass off working on the rope ladder,” she muttered. “Not making the same mistake again.”
He hooked an arm through hers, steadying her as they ran down several flights of stairs after Juan’s retreating form. Recco had picked the outside staircases so he could keep an eye on Daide, the dragon, and the boats. Apparently, Juan was reading from the same script.
Once they reached the large, open deck, Juan strode to the rail and raised the bullhorn, aiming its cone at the lead boat. “Identify yourselves.” His voice boomed, amplified by electronics. “Stow the rifle. If you fire one more shot, Arkady will exit these waters and leave you here.”
Daide sent a pointed glance at Juan. “We’re not leaving until the dragon is free.”
Recco recognized the stubborn set of Daide’s shoulders. The only way he’d abandon his post was if the dragon that had thrown itself on his kindheartedness was no longer imprisoned.
The driver of the lead raft picked up their own bullhorn. “You do not understand. The gun is for the serpent. You must let us board,” a woman with a strong German accent cried.
Recco recognized the surgeon from earlier.
“Negative. You’re not in command of this ship,” Juan countered. “You ignored my orders. I require a list of names, and my captain wants to know the role each person played at McMurdo.”
“There is no time.” The driver pointed behind her at the two other motorboats quickly gaining on them.
“Who’s in them?” Juan asked.
“You will never believe me. The serpent controls them, and it ordered them to follow us. Probably to make certain we never reached your ship.”
“What the hell? I thought it was a victim. How could it have minions?” Recco muttered.
“An excellent question,” Zoe said. “One I’m asking my coyote right now.”
Daide ran lightly to Juan. “Can I use the horn?”
Juan took the rifle, keeping it trained on the lead boat, and gave Daide the bullhorn. The small craft was almost to Arkady’s shadow, but the surf was loud enough to make shouting back and forth unpleasant without an electronic assist.
Zoe leaned closer to Recco. “My magic is activated, and not in a good way.”
Recco turned his attention inward to his wolf. “Do you know anything that might help us?”
“No. Leaving is the wisest course.”
“What about the sea dragon?” Recco waited through several long breaths. His wolf didn’t answer.
Meanwhile, Daide raised the horn to his mouth, fiddling with buttons with mitten-clad fingers. “Which of you controls the sea serpent?”
“No one controls that thing.” The German doctor’s retort was instantaneous. “We have been trying to make it go away for years.”
“Not all of you,” Daide countered. “Someone has been feeding it.”
“You’re mad. We scarcely have food for ourselves.”
“It’s eating humans.”
“Ja. Because it sneaks close to shore after dark and grabs us.”
“Give the horn back,” Juan said. “Someone is lying. We have to figure out who.”
Daide settled the rifle back into firing position.
Loops of chain clicked and clanked behind Recco. At least Arkady would be able to beat a retreat if needed. “Hey, amigo.” He poked Daide. “Ask the dragon which of them is holding it against its will.”
“I already did. It doesn’t know.”
The words rang sourly off Recco’s magic. Daide wouldn’t lie—not about something he’d adopted as a cause he was willing to go to the mat for.
“Och, but I think it does,” Zoe said. Gaelic flowed from her, and she wove her hands into a complicated pattern. Magic rose. Multihued with an iridescent shimmery quality, it formed a path from her out into the dark-gray waters roiling around Arkady.
Her words became a chant, and the sea dragon swam along the path she’d created until its head was even with Arkady’s hull. The shooter in the boat sighted down the barrel of his rifle. Juan raised the bullhorn. “If you pull the trigger, you’ll be next.”
“Thanks for permission.” Daide’s mouth split into a snarl so feral he barely looked human anymore, but his gaze remained glued on the dinghy.
“You will not fire until I say you can. Unless that bastard fires first.” Juan shifted his gaze to the lead boat.
The sea dragon dragged scaled lips back from its double rows of teeth and spoke directly to Zoe. “I am not anxious to trade one master for another.” Steam hissed through its open mouth.
“Who is your first master?” Zoe sang the words, dripping with a truth spell so potent Recco hunted through his memory banks for someone—anyone—who would fit the description of master, so he could confess his sins.
“Dragons are a free people. We answer to no one.”
A spate of Gaelic was followed by, “Aye, yet ye related a tale of woe to one of our own for a purpose. What was it?” The pitch and timbre of Zoe’s magic changed, adding compulsion to her truth spell.
The fine hairs on the back of Recco’s neck quivered unpleasantly. Evil was near. He’d bet his last peso on it. “Can we help Zoe?” he asked his wolf.
“Maybe. This could go many different ways.”
Ketha and Karin
burst through one of the ship’s inner doors and beat a track to either side of Zoe. Both women wore such troubled expressions, Recco inhaled sharply. His wolf had said many different ways. What did it mean? Ketha and Karin must have come on a dead run from the bridge as soon as Zoe lured the dragon with her spell.
“What’s going on?” he blurted out, harsh and strident.
Ketha made a chopping motion and harmonized with Zoe’s song. Karin joined in too, and the dragon pushed another couple of feet of coils above the waterline. The occupants of the first boat stared gape-mouthed. Maybe Zoe’s spell had snared them too—or at least immobilized them. Recco had no idea what impact words spewing from a bullhorn would have on the magic cascading around them, and he didn’t want to find out.
“Who is your master?” Zoe repeated. “Tell me, and I will release you.”
Standing on the sidelines ate at Recco like acid. He readied magic intent on joining the women’s spell.
“Do not do anything rash,” his wolf said. “Zoe took a huge chance. She merged her energy with the dragon’s to gain knowledge.”
Recco made a fist, but stopped shy of pounding it against the rail. “What’s the downside?”
“You mean the risk?”
“Yes.” Impatience rattled through him like slot cars hurtling around a toy speedway.
A low, rumbling snarl filled his belly. Recco kept the sound inside. “Dragons never form a bond with anyone unless it will work to their benefit. That one picked Daide—”
“I already know,” Recco cut in. “What I don’t understand is why.”
“Why else? It saw him as a weak link who’d do his bidding and not ask questions.”
Recco winced. “Was the dragon actually trapped here and unable to leave?”
“Maybe. It might have been caught up in one of its own spells gone bad. Maybe it tried something, and the Cataclysm perverted its magic.”
“Why pick on Daide?” Recco asked again, seeking a deeper knowledge.
The wolf hesitated. “My first guess is no one living here had magic, and the dragon required an infusion of power beyond its own.” Another growl shook Recco from the inside out. “If I’m correct, it would have sucked Daide dry, tossed him aside, and moved on.”