“I know,” Gregory broke in. “Magic first, and keep my shield up.”
Smiling, the witch slipped up to the truck and started for the nearest soldier.
***
Binding spells were used on everyone. Incapacitated for the rest of the night, the soldiers were left where they fell. Once certain they had every soldier that was not in the barn accounted for, Elizabeth and Gregory readied themselves just outside the big building.
“There could be feran inside. Haushofer will have left a guard to keep anyone from following him or disrupting his way back from the other timeline. It’s even possible that the German is still there,” Elizabeth reminded him. “With those manuscripts, he’s going to be formidable. Use your shotgun; I’ve converted all our lead to silver.”
“How?” Gregory blurted under his breath, his curiosity momentarily overriding his fear.
“Actually, it’s quite easy. The hard one is lead to gold.”
It was not quite the answer he was looking for, but by then his fear of the upcoming confrontation had already regained control. Gregory nodded his readiness and raised his weapon.
With a nod of her own, Elizabeth began a low chant. As the whispered, rhythmic words flowed quietly around her, it was joined by a purple haze—a haze that lifted as it thickened. Then, as the haze reached a level above her head, Elizabeth’s mouth snapped shut sending the purple haze crashing against the double doors. The doors were flung open, and the witch and Lascion rushed in.
Gregory fired at everything that moved. A bit more selective, Elizabeth caught three feran in the skull and half a dozen humans in the chest.
The merciless attack lasted seconds. After which, several moments elapsed as the two came to terms with their slaughter. Bodies and blood were everywhere. Everywhere, that is, except for the round, black hole in the center of the barn’s dirt floor.
“What is that?” Gregory asked.
“Likely, it’s the portal to the dragon’s time,” Elizabeth mumbled, her feelings still awash with regret. She didn’t think twice about killing monsters. After all, that death allowed the trapped soul to move on. But to purposefully end a life, any life, was not something to be proud of.
“You okay?” Gregory asked, putting an arm around Elizabeth’s waist.
Resting her head against his chest, she responded, “I will be.” Then turning toward the portal added, “Looks like the German has already gone through the portal.”
CHAPTER 18
Elizabeth knew it was no use trying to guess what might be waiting for them at the bottom of that small, dark circle. The hole, approximately two feet in diameter, was entirely devoid of light—absolutely too dark to discern where it led. There was only one way they were going to find out.
Elizabeth looked at Gregory trying to judge whether she could count on him to make the leap into that small, dark question mark. Gregory was staring at the circle as if trying to pierce through the darkness.
‘Better do this quick,’ she surmised. ‘Best if I just let him think that I trust him to be right behind me.’
Before Elizabeth launched herself into the hole, she made one request. “Locate me before you start shooting. I’m extending the bulk of my shield’s power forward. I don’t want you mistaking me for the enemy. My backside would never forgive you.”
“Maybe I should go first,” Gregory offered; his words sounding hollow as if they had been spoken through a long metal tube.
“I got this. Just make sure you’re right behind me.” Elizabeth smiled at him as she jumped into the hole.
The witch was gone before Gregory could react. He delayed only long enough to straddle the hole. Mustering his determination, he closed his eyes and dropped in.
The cold struck like an Arctic storm. It ripped through the soles of his boots, ran up his legs, shocked his groin, and froze his breath.
Cold and the feeling of falling; there was no other sensation. No breeze touched him, no smell distracted him, no sight or sound reassured him. Grasping for something more to keep his panic at bay, Gregory envisioned the beautiful witch waiting for him. That soothed him enough to stop him from clawing at the nothingness about him.
A new sensation hit him abruptly. The feeling of falling flipped. The cold was now coupled with the feeling of ascending.
Gregory looked up, since that now seemed to be the direction he was traveling, and noticed a flicker of light. Like a candle in the window, it called to him even though it was just a pinprick in size. The tiny point of light rushed at him adding to his hope of seeing Elizabeth again. The light, as he lifted softly out of the void, assaulted his vision.
Squinting, he searched the blurred forms around him. Then, there she was; bathed in warm sunlight, standing a few yards away with her back to him. The air was balmy, thick with moisture, and pungent. After the nothingness of that abyss, the smells, and one in particular, felt like they were pummeling his sense of smell. He staggered toward her.
“What’s that awful smell?” Gregory asked through chattering teeth.
“Be quiet,” came the whispered response.
Gregory, searching for the origin of the odor, spun back toward the spot where the sound of her voice was coming from. The witch was gone!
“Elizabeth?” Gregory whispered, frantically looking about the foreign landscape for the witchling.
He was in a forest. The trees were tall and plentiful, yet spaced in such a way as to let in a bounty of sunshine. There were tall clumps of grass-like plants and other much larger plants with even bigger leaves filling the floor of the forest.
“Where are you?” he called again, projecting his voice softly into the jungle.
“Over here,” her voice answered.
Several yards to his right stood a massive tree, the kind of which, Gregory, in all his studies, had never come across. Up against the massive trunk, a bark-like hand waved to him.
“What?” Gregory questioned.
“Camouflage,” an amused voice shot back. “Now join me before you’re seen.”
Even though the botanist didn’t recognize the tree, it didn’t stop him from conjuring himself into its replica. The new addition to the forest, only a thousand times smaller than many of its surrounding companions, crept slowly, just in case someone was watching, to Elizabeth’s position.
“Not bad,” the witch commented as Gregory joined her.
“Where—” Gregory began, only to be stopped by a branch lifting before his face and pointing through the trees to a small clearing.
Peering through the trees, Gregory gasped, “He’s got one!”
“He’s started the extraction,” Elizabeth said grimly, adding to the bad news.
Staring in disbelief, Gregory tried to do the math. The German had a head start, but that couldn’t possibly have been enough time to catch something as large as the dragon that was thrashing about in the clearing before him.
“There’s no way he’s had time to capture that dragon before we got here, even if he used every bit of magic in those books,” Gregory concluded. Turning to the animated tree beside him, he asked, “How?”
“They went in first.” When Elizabeth didn’t elaborate, he pressed her for an answer. “Stepping across timelines isn’t a chronological journey. By going first, they, of course, arrived before us. That could turn out to be mere minutes or several days—maybe as long as a week.”
“Then … does that mean we have to wait a week before we can go back?”
“Not at all. They cracked the egg. We merely followed in their footsteps. It was their passage that established the connection. Once the beginning mark is set, the other mark, our exit, is also set. Both points in time, where the timelines cross, will persist as long as the timelines remain out of sync. Their way back is ours as well.”
“Then that hole we came through stays open for as long as we need it?”
“It could, but the longer it does, the more we risk the complete disruption of time.”
“T
hat’s why my father had to remain at Pinder Barracks.”
“Exactly. It was there that the spell originated. It must be from there that the spell is terminated.”
“I don’t get it. I thought the magic was shut down around that place. How could my father move the timeline from there?”
“I didn’t get a chance to look, but I suspect the German had a protected place where the magic he used on your father couldn’t penetrate. I doubt your father initiated the spell. He probably told Haushofer how, and then the German set it in motion from his safe room.
“Then that hole remains until we can get word to my father,” Gregory concluded, looking back at the place where he had popped into this world.
“Exactly,” Elizabeth sighed.
***
With Gregory’s questions satisfied, the animated trees, flowing from one tree to the next, made their way to the clearing. When the witch thought they were close enough to launch an attack, she stopped, pulled Gregory close, and gave him her summation of the situation.
“I count six feran. I’m assuming that human closest to the dragon is Haushofer.”
Having never seen Haushofer, Gregory couldn’t affirm that. Though he did allow a slight shake of his head. It was all he could muster, seeing as though he was trying to keep himself from overreacting to the situation before him. But with the giant monster thrashing about just yards away, he wasn’t exactly succeeding.
Suddenly the dragon leaped in their direction only to be repelled by the barely visible bubble encasing it. The dragon bounced back but not its stench. With the force of the creature’s momentum, the odor rolled over Elizabeth and Gregory.
“Ugh,” Gregory retched. “Is that its natural stench?”
“My guess would be that it is some kind of emotional release. This battle has been going on for a while,” Elizabeth answered.
“Why do you say that?” he queried, jerking back as the dragon again careened into the side of the bubble across from them.
“Look at the magic. It rides above the ground. That bubble is in its final stages.”
“Are you sure?”
“Well, not really. Obviously, it’s old magic. Still, from what I’ve learned, a capture spell such as this starts out large; maybe as much as a half a mile in diameter. Once the victim is within its circumference, the magic becomes impenetrable. That’s when it begins to close.”
“The beast doesn’t have much room left.”
“It’s almost out of time,” Elizabeth agreed.
“What then?”
“The dragon will be crushed.”
“That’s ghastly,” Gregory said indignantly. “Why doesn’t the German just steal its magic and let it go?”
“The beast flies without wings. As Lantian lore puts it, this is the world’s first dragon. The Hermadolin Dragon, as it is known, was reputed to be the fastest flying creature to ever exist. Nimble enough to turn on a dime and lightning quick—all because of an inherent magic.
“Like I said, why doesn’t he just take that?”
“The magic is within the creature’s cells. The only way to capture the magic is to crush it with the container.”
“It’s like he’s squeezing an orange,” Gregory gasped. “Elizabeth, we have to do something!”
“That’s why we’re here,” she whispered.
Desperately examining the scene for a potential opening, Gregory went over every detail again.
In the center of the clearing was the Hermadolin Dragon; a silver-blue, scaled dragon. The creature had a mouth big enough to swallow a pony. Even scarier were the two rows of teeth that looked razor sharp. Then there was the dragon’s size.
Including its tail, Gregory figured it was sixty feet long. And, by the way that tail whipped about, he was pretty sure its teeth weren’t its only weapon. The creature was magnificent in a totally scary sort of way.
Suddenly the Lascion had an idea. “You think we can communicate with it?”
“Don’t try!”
“Why?”
“Those feran will hear. The Lantian part of them can project their thoughts just as easily as you and I can.”
“Blast,” Gregory grimaced. He had forgotten about the feran’s ability to pick up on thoughts. ‘All right no projections,’ he told himself as he counted the feran. There were six of them around the shrinking globe of magic. Only they were not watching the dragon. They were, like trained dogs, guarding the German.
Gregory watched Haushofer as the man closed a book he was holding and slipped it into a leather satchel.
That grabbed Gregory’s attention. Suddenly, the bag became Gregory’s sole focus. He watched the German place the satchel on the ground.
“The books,” he gasped. “Without them, he won’t be able to do any of this.”
“What? I didn’t catch that,” Elizabeth, who had been doing her own reconnoitering, responded.
“I’ve found the Lantian manuscripts,” Gregory grinned.
CHAPTER 19
Gregory’s find intensified the urgency that was building within Elizabeth. The dragon was running out of time! She had to act. She was sure that Haushofer had no idea she and Gregory were nearby. And now she knew where the manuscripts were that detailed the world’s most ancient and powerful magic!
‘If we move in now, it will come as a complete surprise to the Nazi,’ Elizabeth’s mind raced. “Greg,” she said, “Let’s shed our camouflage. We might have to move soon.”
It took but a moment to transform. To the Lascion’s surprise, the woman crouching beside him was now the beautiful brunette that he had first met.
“Hmm,” he remarked, “I was getting rather used to that blond fraulein.”
“Well,” Elizabeth whispered back, a smile playing on her lips, “she’s still around. My bet is that she’ll be visiting you some time in the near future. But now, let’s see if we can figure out how to crack this egg.”
Haushofer was in her line of fire. Only one feran was close by. The rest, evenly spread out around the closing orb, would have to skirt the dragon to get to them. Granted, feran could cover the distance rapidly. But then, she could move just as fast.
‘Plus,’ she told herself. ‘The dissolution spell might work.’
The spell was one of many her mind had pulled from its archives; each a possible candidate to crack the orb.
“Just enough to free the dragon,” she said aloud, readying herself for the attack. But still, she waited.
Caught by the uncertainty caused by her inexperience, Elizabeth began to second guess her choice. Years of nonstop studying had left her skilled in alchemy, witchcraft, and the art of healing. She could talk with animals—possibly even dragons—manipulate molecules, and alter her appearance almost as well as her father. The problem was, she had a bit less confidence in her ability to wield magic.
She was a witch—not a magician. Yet the dissolution spell was all magic.
‘What if it doesn’t work?’ she fretted, speculating that if the spell was too powerful it might also eliminate the dragon. ‘But what if it isn’t strong enough. It’s just as likely the German has tapped into magic I can’t handle.’
Besieged by her burgeoning indecisiveness, Elizabeth’s confidence wavered just enough for her to think that her best option might be to wait until she had more experience.
‘I could always come back,’ she reasoned, certain age and experience would improve her tactical skills.
The thought was true. There was nothing to keep her from starting over. Go now, live and study for a few more years, and then jump back to this time, joining the search for Urik just as she had already done.
‘Yeah, but how do I compensate for the time differential. Dropping into this time as we did, just when the dragon needed help—that was pure chance. Urik’s magic only connects the timeframes. It comes with no guarantees that we will arrive at a certain time. We could jump in that hole a thousand times and not get to this critical moment.’
Aga
in, the thought rang true.
“It was supposed to be now,” she growled, steeling herself for what she was here to do.
With the stench building, the orb closing, and the enemy positioned most favorably for their surprise attack, Elizabeth knew she was wasting the moment. She also knew certainty would never come. ‘I’ll do what I can. If it doesn’t work, I’ll do something else.’ In a world where mistakes are a socialized illusion, and right action comes with infinite choices, Elizabeth took a deep breath and readied herself for action.
Gregory, sensing Elizabeth’s readiness, reached for his sword with his left hand. But the movement was too quick. The sword clanged into the tree he was standing by, and the sound reverberated throughout the clearing.
Haushofer and the feran spun in their direction. The witch raised her hand, but Haushofer was faster. The blast he let loose sent Gregory flying and brought a huge tree limb down on Elizabeth. Elizabeth groaned with pain and struggled to free her arms. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Haushofer coming at her.
Gregory, trying to clear the stars from his vision, grabbed a tree limb and pulled himself upright. He turned toward the clearing and blasted a spell in Haushofer’s direction. The spell went wide, but the German and feran hit the dirt as clods of earth from the explosion rained down on them.
Gregory ran forward, wildly tossing spells in the German’s direction, as he followed the sound of Elizabeth’s muffled cries. She was face down in the dirt, trapped under the limb.
A silver light flashed from his hands as Gregory levitated the limb and threw it to the side. Elizabeth rose from the ground as an icy blue light surrounded her. Uttering an unearthly cry of rage, Elizabeth blasted the blue light into the clearing, but the Nazi and feran had already fallen back to a safe distance.
Elizabeth started forward, marching furiously toward the clearing. Gregory leaped toward her and grabbed her arm.
“Stop! You can’t just blast out there.”
Elizabeth turned toward him. The look on her face told Gregory that her rage was burning out of control. He knew he had to get her back.
Spirit of the Dragon: A Story of Magic, a Witch, and the Third Reich Page 13