by Kim Knox
The room rumbled, and Blake swore in a language I understood. He swept his hand through the mists streaming from the canopy, and an image brighter than a tech-screen shone there.
Bile rose in my throat, and I fought not to retch. I had seen it before. Seen it that morning. Grey-scarred ground, smoking rubble. “Where... where did it happen now?”
Blake closed his eyes. “The Beranin Quarter.”
“What have you done?” Tobias grabbed Blake and shoved him up against a carved black column. “You knew I once lived there. That my family still lives there.”
Blake stayed still, calm. “It wasn’t me.”
“You spoke. The Source responded. My home was flattened.” Tobias’ walking stick dug against Blake’s windpipe. “Why?”
Blake twisted his neck but didn’t struggle. “The”—he swallowed—“the Dragon Lord has lost control.”
Tobias barked a laugh. “The Dragon Lord is a myth.”
I ripped my gaze from the devastation still burning in the mists that surrounded the columns. The world had just gone insane. I closed my eyes and my heart was hollow. “This is the end of the peace.”
Tobias stared at me. “What?”
“She’s right,” Blake said.
The magician growled and pulled back. He strode away, his hand a fist in his hair, his other hand bloodless around his walking stick. “So now you’ve resolved your problem with our games.”
I pushed myself onto my feet. “Someone else is doing this?”
Blake rubbed at his throat. “Yes.” He stared at the too-sharp image of the devastation, and it began to fade. “You are my best candidate, Leona.”
Anger burned through my gut. I was tired of his prevarication. “To do what?”
“Replace him,” Blake said. “Replace the Sea-Dragon.”
Chapter Fourteen
I stared at him. What the hell was he talking about?
“What?”
“This is your choice.” Blake’s stern face, his professional mask had found him again.
“You and your choices,” I muttered. “It’s what Tobias said.” I jabbed my hand at the man who stood staring at us. “The Sea-Dragon, the Dragon Lord, whatever, is a myth. It’s ridiculous. No one rules the world from a golden throne.”
Blake scratched his hand through his hair and blew out a slow breath. “I cannot make these decisions for you.”
“Why? You seem to be running everything else.”
“It’s my job to create the candidates. Nothing more.”
I turned away before I followed through with my increasing need to punch him. The obliteration of whole blocks of North Bank had changed everything. My city was already blaming the magicians for the destruction of the waterfront. Now this would be seen as retaliation. Both sides would clamour for retribution.
The swirling light caught me again. I could do what Tobias asked. Take the cup, leave, remove magic...
“Is that your choice?”
Blake’s voice burned through me. “Get out of my head.”
I knew it was ineffectual, but I moved away, putting yards between us. If I removed magic, I would leave North Bank defenceless. Councillor Musgrove would have her dream. The North Bank would fall to her and her technological ambitions.
And I could take it. Somehow I knew I could do that. Magic would be mine to control.
I thrust my hands into my pockets and curled them into fists. I was about to make a mistake. A big fucking stupid mistake. “The Dragon Lord? He lost control, how?” Blake’s mouth twisted, and I knew he was ready to come out with his usual line. “I’m your best candidate? Well, this time I want to be one that makes an informed decision.”
Blake smoothed his still-immaculate tie. He began to unfasten and refasten the buttons of his jacket. His hands stopped. “He’s ancient. The burden is too much now.”
My mouth thinned. “What burden?”
“Guarding us from the chaos of old magic.”
“This is unbelievable.” Tobias strode back across the floor, grabbed my arm, and pulled me toward the canopy. “That is the Source of magic, not some old myth about dragons and chaos. Become a magician, Leona. Take it. Give the North Bank people a chance to live in peace somewhere else.”
The temptation was there. Magic called to me. It always had. Was that a part of my being a candidate? “Wherever you go, it would start again.” I stared back at Blake. The mist-light formed unnatural shadows over his blunt face. “You’d make certain of it, wouldn’t you?”
“Make your choice, Leona.”
Blake’s command sat heavy on me. Yes, I was about to make a big mistake. A huge one. But I didn’t run, did I? “I’ll replace him.”
Something in Blake’s expression changed, as if a deadness had settled on him. “Your choice is made?”
I forced myself to nod. “That’s what I said. If it stops both Banks launching into all-out war, then yes, I’ll replace your Dragon Lord.”
Blake held out his hand. His white gold ring glittered in the cast light, the carved image of a dragon rising up from the brilliant metal. “The choice is made.” At his words, the ball of shining light within the cup began to spin faster, flashes of scintillating white sparking into the air. “And the Dragon Lord has accepted your challenge.”
I paused; my hand stopped in the act of reaching for his. “Challenge?” Blake frowned. “You have to prove that you are worthy—”
“Wait. No one said anything about proving—”
“Leona…”
Blake growled my name, and I stared as my arm started to move. I willed it down but could only watch my fingers sliding into his warm hold. “What the...?”
“You are bound to the choice you made.”
“Now you tell me.”
Tobias still stood on the steps leading up to the Source. His expression was glazed, even as he stared at us. He was slipping into the same shock that had consumed me this morning.
I kept my voice soft. “Go help people, Tobias.”
He rubbed his hands over his jaw, and it lifted his glazed expression. With a brief nod, he turned and broke into a run. The wall bulged. He was gone.
“Come with me.” Blake led her to a plain stone arch that had not been there a moment before. “My way is slightly less disgusting.”
“What have I got myself into?”
He squeezed my hand. The caring gesture burned an ache in my chest that had nothing to do with the wraith. Yes, the man drove every emotion through me. I had to wonder if I’d find any calm that day.
“I should’ve known you would be the one.”
He stopped a few steps from the archway. There was only blackness beyond it.
“The Dragon Lord is our guardian. He protects this reality from the chaos of old magic. Without him, there would be no order, no new magic, and no people who can live free of magic’s influence.” He paused. “You have accepted the challenge.”
Sarcastic words itched on my tongue. His speech sounded pompous and ridiculous. I forced down my comments, keeping them unsaid. My stomach had twisted into a tight knot. It was the fear that drove me to sarcasm, and I would not let it have power over me.
Blake stepped forward.
Blackness surged around me, pressed against my skin, down into my lungs with a taste of mud and rot. Endless seconds stretched, and I counted them in the rapid thud of my heart. I didn’t think about my choice, only added it to the growing list of insane decisions I’d made.
If I stopped a war, it was enough.
We emerged into a softly glowing, circular room. One I recognised. Yes, the gallery replica had been impressive.
Organic lighting had been grafted onto the slime-smoothed walls at regular intervals, and with it came the stink of rotting vegetation. The floor was smooth and seamless. My boots sucked and pulled through sticky, glistening sludge as we made our way to the centre of the room.
Blake stopped at a tiled circle edged by a rail of carved black stone. He released my hand.<
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Cold air washed away the warmth from my skin. I straightened my spine, my chin lifting, and pulled in a deep breath of icy, stinking air. I had made my choice, after all. Now I had to find a way to stay alive.
On the far wall was a throne. Slippery steps led up to the gold-crusted stone chair, its high back, thick arms, and heavy canopy pushing out of the softened rock and into an intricate mould. A wizened old man in white, jewel-caked robes trimmed with a pale fur sat on the throne. His face was wrinkled and grey, his skull pushing out against thinning skin and muscle.
He was ancient and looked weak and decrepit. That had to be in my favour if I was to challenge him, though guilt twisted in my stomach at the thought of trying to best an old man. Meeting his gaze tightened the fist in my gut from guilt to unease. His eyes glittered black. Insane. Bony fingers drummed against the arm of the throne and the scrape of his nails on curiously dry stone echoed through the chamber. “So you are Leona Munro,” he stated in a thin, husky voice, craning his skinny neck to peer at me.
“Obviously,” I said.
Fuck, everyone knew who I was; why shouldn’t he?
The Dragon Lord’s body hunched forward, his fingers stretching into claws, which gripped the thickened arm ends of his throne. The old man’s eyes were little more than black slits. “You will address us as Majesty. We are Alexander Inigo.” His gaze flicked to Blake. “This woman is your challenge to me?” He hacked up a laugh, and spittle coated his lips. “And you think I’m the one who’s lost control.”
Anger rose up through my blood. “You lost it just now. Scores of people are dead.”
“I did not lose control—”
And then he stopped.
His grip on the stone loosened finger by finger, bits of grit and dust dribbling down onto the dais as if someone were pulling them away one by one. Alexander’s ancient vertebrae cracked, echoing a hollow sound across the stinking chamber. His back slowly straightened, and he pushed himself up against his throne.
“So this is her.”
I blinked. Another voice, another personality had manifested in Alexander. What the fuck...?
A ripple of air passed over the throne, and the hunched old man faded. Strong hands gripped the arms of the chair. The jewelled vestments sparkled and shaped themselves to the lean torso of a much younger man.
“I think I did well.” Alexander leaned back and crossed his legs. His dark head tilted. “Have you had fun with my wraith yet?”
Heat flooded my cheeks. He obviously knew more than just my name.
“That would be a yes.” A smiled twitched over his firm mouth. “Surprised, Blake?”
Blake frowned. “What have you done?”
“Leona.” He ignored Blake’s question and pushed himself to his feet. He padded down the few steps to the chamber floor, but his boots, unlike mine, didn’t sink into the sucking mud. “Blake here likes to keep his secrets. It’s only been a day, but you must have noticed that already.”
I kept my answer to a nod, not trusting myself to speak.
“Did he tell you what the wraith was for?”
I shook my head.
“Mute? That must be fun for you, Blake. Finally found someone who likes to talk less than you do?”
Blake’s hands clenched into fists. “Alexander. What have you done?”
The Dragon Lord circled them, his long white robes drifting in a soft rush above the filth of the floor. “How long have I ruled here, Blake?” He snorted. “Ruled. Don’t let him make you think that you have any power down here, Leona. So.” He stopped in front of Blake and gripped the stone rail hard. His knuckles showed white. “How long?”
“Three millennia.”
“Three thousand six hundred and twenty-seven years, to be exact. Oh, and ninety-eight days, three hours, twelve minutes, forty-nine seconds.” He grinned. Sharp white teeth flashed. “But, then, who’s counting?” His expression hardened. “Certainly not you.”
“I gave you a choice.”
“Ah, your infamous choices. I know you’ve encountered those too, Leona.”
Alexander reached out to touch my face, tracing a slow path down my cheek to stop at my chin. Beside me, Blake stiffened.
“Going to stop me?” The Dragon Lord focused on me, and the shine I found there panicked my heart. “I can feel my wraith within her.” His voice dropped low and smooth. “What did he tell you this was?”
I swallowed in a dry mouth. “A mark.”
“So you do speak. A mark?” He tutted and shook his head. “Samuel Blake and his understatement.” His finger continued to trace a path down the contours of my throat. So light a touch, it itched my skin. There was a responding hiss from my wraith, the traitorous beast reacting to the man’s touch as easily as Blake’s. “It’s more than a mark, but you already know that.” He skimmed the collar of my shirt. “It’s ancient, almost as old as the first magic. It’s a creature formed to bind.”
His touch dropped lower to tease the curve of my breast.
Blake’s hand shot out...but stopped short of grabbing Alexander’s wrist. “Stop right there.”
The Dragon Lord laughed. “Tell her who it was meant to bind.”
Blake’s lips thinned, whitened. His arm dropped back to his side, but he said nothing.
I slapped Alexander’s hand away and found my voice. “Me?”
Alexander shook his head. “Us. The fire of the wraith binds our souls, and the power of the Dragon Lord passes to you.”
“Us…?” I stared up at Blake, but he didn’t meet my gaze. “But it—” I stopped. Too-vivid images made me speak the words, the memory of how the wraith moved through my flesh. I thought it had been forming a bond with Blake. It hadn’t. It was meant for the Dragon Lord. “It would force me to sleep with you.”
“Not force.” Alexander swayed, and his face grew pale. He staggered up the steps to his throne. “You would find me—” The air rippled, and the man in the chair hunched and withered again. He cackled from a broken-toothed mouth. “Irresistible.”
I wiped a grubby hand over my face. “This is insane.”
The old Alexander jabbed a skeletal finger at his chest. “But we fooled Blake. We haven’t guarded old magic without learning a few little tricks. The wraith we released is not meant for us.”
Blake closed his eyes. “It’s meant for me.”
The old man laughed until his lungs hacked up tearing coughs. His head fell back against the high back, and he let himself breathe. “Yes. You cannot take my power. It’s mine. Mine through eternity—”
His spine arched, and the younger Alexander flowed back. “Three millennia ago you set us all on this path, all of humanity. You made the choice. And it was the wrong one. I’m setting it right.” His mouth turned with a sharp smile. “I’m forcing you to make the choice, Blake.”
Alexander closed his eyes, and colour bloomed over his skin. His head fell forward. “My other self grows more insane every day.” He looked up. “Is this what you want for her? For magic to fracture her soul and have the act of being a dam, a block to the wild power of magic, scorch her brain? Do you want her to learn to hate you down through the centuries?”
“Create another wraith.”
Blake’s cold voice sent a shiver over my skin. Yes, I was nothing but a pawn to this man. And he would bind me to Alexander as easily as he’d bound me to my choice.
“And I thought she meant something to you.”
“I have to do what is right.” Blake lifted his jaw, and I felt the hardness of his determination. “In that I have no choice.”
“Do what is right...” Alexander mused. “In your long life, how many people have you let die, Blake? How many have you stood beside and let life bleed out of them?”
The coil of anger uncurled in Blake. It was there in the colour heightening his skin, the hard set of his jaw. “The wraith. There isn’t time for this.”
Alexander focused on me. “Do you know how close you were to dying today?”
I couldn’t help a sudden burst of sarcasm. The whole situation was insane. I had no idea what he was talking about. “At which point?”
Alexander’s mouth twitched. “Funny. This morning. When a warehouse should have fallen on you?”
His dark eyes drilled me. The power pulsed through him, and I could almost smell the sharp burn of magic. He was telling the truth. I could feel that too.
“You should have died.”
“Alexander...”
The Dragon Lord didn’t flicker at Blake’s low growl.
“He protected you from the falling debris. He healed you. He gave you a piece of his own soul. The only magic left to him. And in that moment”—he looked away from me to Blake—“she was already half-bound to you. And you to her. My wraith was designed for that connection.” He laughed and picked at his nail. “Your stink is all over her, and yet still, you would gift her to me. Let me do whatever I want to that sweet, sweet body—”
“Like hell,” I muttered.
Blake clamped a hand to my arm, stopping me from leaping the rail and taking my fists to Alexander’s smug face. I stopped. The disgust and anger were mine. The rage—the rage was Blake’s.
“Ah, I thought as much.” Alexander pushed himself up. He was slower, and there was a shake to his hands. “You watched her too intently. It gave me hope.”
I was confused. I was tired, hungry, and wanted to know what the fuck was going on. “Hope for what?”
Alexander sank down onto the steps, his robes floating down around him. “I’m tired of fighting the insane old man that shares my body. I’m tired of having a surge of power devouring the base of my brain. And I’m three-and-a-half-thousand years old.” He snorted. “I’m just fucking tired.” He rubbed a hand over his face and he stared up at Blake. “You would wish this on someone you cared for?”
Blake straightened, but his hand didn’t leave my arm. His fingers flexed against my arm. “I did what was right.”
“You ran from your responsibility.” Alexander’s voice had thinned, and his skin paled to a cracked grey.
Blake started forward. “Alexander, what are you doing?”