Dragon Spells

by Melinda Kucsera

  “I think she’s describing a cage, like those humane traps,” said an older gentleman in overalls.

  He was quite spry for ninety and already bounding up the stairs to his third-floor walk-up apartment to fetch the trap while his bemused wife looked on. While he was gone, the metal discs caught in the dragon’s power rolled into cylinders and extruded sharp points. Uh-oh.

  I clutched Papa’s tunic. A warning lingered on my tongue, but I couldn’t get my mouth to work. I just stared at a dozen small sharp things slowly spinning until they pointed at us. Under my ear, Papa’s chest rose and fell in the gentle rhythm of sleep. I couldn’t wake him, not when he so badly needed a rest. I watched those metal projectiles floating in front of the dragon until footsteps heartened me.

  “I found it.” Melinda’s neighbor had returned.

  “Let him through. Bring it to me.” I waved the nice man over, and Melinda reluctantly let him pass her cordon.

  “Be careful,” she cautioned him. “Keep your wits about you.”

  “Don’t worry. I was in the military back in the day. I think I can handle this.” I couldn’t see his smile, but I heard it in his voice. The older gentleman rounded the dryer and stopped beside me. He wore a blue hat with words I couldn’t read on it. “Will this work?” He held a curious metal device. It was as long as his arm and as wide as my head.

  I looked from the dragon, who was larger than Papa’s six-foot-six frame, to the trap and back again. “I don’t think she’ll fit. Do you have a bigger one?”

  The older gentleman shook his head regretfully. “This is the largest one they make, and the only one I have.”

  “Let me see it.” Papa took the trap from my hands.

  “When did you wake up?” I asked. Probably the instant his magic had sensed someone coming near me. Because Papa always knew where everyone was. His magic liked to keep track of people.

  “I wasn’t sleeping,” Papa said around a yawn. “I was just resting my eyes.”

  “Sure, you were.” I shook my head, but I didn’t argue the point, not while those metal projectiles were facing us again.

  Papa needed to concentrate. His magic flowed over the trap, investigating it, and it glowed green until his magic retreated. Still, that was a good sign.

  “Can you expand it?” I whispered in his ear.

  Before he could answer me, the trap flew out of his hands and slammed into the dragon’s outstretched claws where it immediately began to disassemble itself. Its thin metal bars slithered up her forelimbs and wove a latticework shield between the gaps in her armored body.

  “Well, there goes that plan.” I squeezed the phone in my hands again.

  “I told you. You can’t trap me.” That damned dragon smiled triumphantly at me and launched those projectiles at us.

  I glanced at the floor where our impromptu shield had fallen, but it wasn’t there. That was when I realized what that dragon had done.

  “Looking for this?” She held up the dryer door, and it melted into a silver globe in her claws then split in half.

  Each hemisphere liquefied and rolled into a second wave of projectiles, but Papa hadn’t stopped the first wave yet. He just stared at them as they sailed toward us.

  “Papa?” I fisted my hands in his tunic, and he finally looked at me. “Are you going to save us?”

  “I’ll always save you.” He pulled me into a tight hug. Then he shot to his feet and rolled across the dryer and the washing machine standing next to it while still clutching me. He dropped into a crouch on the other side of the washer and hugged me. A dozen projectiles struck the side of the dryer where we’d just been sitting.

  But I was safe in his arms. “Thank you, Papa.” I curled into him, content to let him handle things for a while.

  He rubbed my back. “Next time, don’t piss off a dragon, okay?”

  “I didn’t mean to. It was just a misunderstanding.” I ducked my head.

  “Sure, it was.”

  Was he parroting my own words back at me? I scowled at his shoulder. “Why didn’t you use magic?”

  Papa was very agile even without magic enhancing his strength and speed. “I didn’t need to. Magic isn’t always the answer. Sometimes, it’s the problem.”

  “Not this time.” But if not using it helped him recover faster, then I was all for it. Besides, the events of Curse Breaker: Falls and Curse Breaker: Sundered were an isolated incident, but Papa might need some convincing about that. I added that to my to-do list for later.

  “What else did our readers suggest?” Melinda asked from her post by the door.

  “Is everyone okay over by you?” I squirmed until I could see my Scribe.

  “We’re all fine here.” But Melinda gave the phone I was still clutching a pointed look.

  “I’ll find out.” I unlocked the screen and scrolled down until the washer started shaking. It tapped out a desperate SOS on the floor as it followed the dryer and shot toward the dragon.

  “We have to stop her from taking them too. She’s got enough armor.” I shot to my feet when Papa released me.

  His left hand glowed a vibrant green as a cloud of magic gathered around it. But Papa had already worked a lot of magic, and it had taken its toll on him. Blood dripped from his nose as that ball of magic lengthened into a lariat as Papa struggled to rise. He dug his glowing fingers into the grooves in the cinder-block wall, and it might have leaned toward him.

  Several blocks shot out of the wall and struck the crouching dragon. They shattered against her armor-plated hide, enraging her. She sucked in a deep breath, but when she opened her mouth, no fire emerged, just a few wisps of smoke. How long before that smoke became a fire?

  “Can you stop her from taking them?” I grabbed Papa’s arm and pulled, but he outweighed me by a lot. I bit my lip.

  “I think so.” With a flick of his wrist, that shining lariat looped around both machines, stopping their dragon-ward slide. Papa grasped the edge of the nearest machine and pulled himself up finally. He wavered for a moment then sat down hard on the dryer.

  I tried to copy him, but the top of my head was level with the huge machine, and my arms shook when I tried to pull myself on top of it. But Papa was so tall, its top was level with the backs of his thighs. He reached down and lifted me onto his lap. He also wrapped an arm around my waist to prevent me from going anywhere then he slumped down into unconsciousness again and almost took me with him when he slid off the machine and onto the floor. But I squirmed free from his arms and jumped down on my own.

  “Papa!” I shook his arm, but there was no response, and the machines were sliding away again. Drat. That dragon might have won this round. What would she do with those machines she’d taken?

  Sister, Savior

  [Under Mount Eredren, Shayari]

  Sovvan came to lying on the floor of a dirty, disorganized cave. Rangers’ Greens were piled here and there along with children’s clothes small enough to fit her nephew. There were other tunics and trousers, but they were too large for her nephew and too small for her twin, but not for her half brother. Miren. How old would he be now? Fourteen or fifteen she guessed. Sovvan pushed herself up, and there he was.

  “Miren.” She extended her arms for him, but he looked right through her. Right, he couldn’t see her in her ghost state. No one could. Damn it. But it was so good to see him. He was a baby the last time she’d seen him. Now, he was almost grown and slowly being strangled by a metal maniac. Oh hell no, I won’t let you harm my little brother!

  “Where is she?” the metal woman demanded.

  “She’s right here.” Sovvan thrust her transparent hands into Metalara’s back. “Let him go.” The clockwork creature staggered back, releasing her half-brother. “Run, Miren.” Because Sovvan was starting to solidify. Before that happened, she had to remove her hands from the metal woman’s back or risk being fused to it. That wasn’t a pleasant prospect.

  “Papa!” her darling nephew shouted from somewhere.

  B
ut Sovvan couldn’t see him anywhere in this cave. Where are you, child?

  “Hold on, Ran. I’m coming.” Miren rushed to a purple-glowing hoop and ran through it without a backward glance or even a thank you.

  Brothers, they could be so ungrateful sometimes. Though that probably wasn’t his fault since Miren couldn’t see her. There was that pesky grave that stood between them, and it didn’t allow the living to see or hear the dead. But Sovvan had found ways around that before, and she would again.

  “Who are you?” Sovvan asked before she had to withdraw her hands.

  “No one and nothing to you.” The metal creature spun and backhanded her so hard; Sovvan saw stars again.

  The world slipped away for a moment as Sovvan staggered and sank to her knees. Her hands grayed out first, turning incorporeal again. Damn it. This time, she felt the Gray Between reaching out to collect her. If she blacked out again, she’d wake up in that gray place and have to do this all over again. No thank you. Not happening. Sovvan needed to get to that portal and go through it because her family was on the other side of it, and they faced a danger beyond any of them.

  But I’m almost indestructible, so watch out, dragon. I’m coming for you after I kick this metal broad’s butt somehow. But that wasn’t looking likely since her vision had gone all gray and blurry.

  “Stop that.” The clockwork creature said in her ear as her hands constricted Sovvan’s throat.

  “I can’t. I don’t know how. This afterlife thing didn’t come with a handbook.” Sovvan wouldn’t have read it even if it had, but it would have been nice to have had that choice instead of bumbling around and causing all sorts of trouble by accident.

  “You’re really dead?” the metal menace eased her grip a tad, and Sovvan’s vision cleared a little, but she was still seeing only shades of gray.

  “Yes, for about fourteen years or thereabouts.” Sovvan blinked and tried to stay conscious. Her captor dragged her backward across what must be her brother’s cave. You need to do some cleaning, bro. That place is a pigsty. Focusing on that kept the Gray Between at bay as her captor tried to drag her out of the cave.

  “Which way leads out of here?”

  “I have no idea. This is the first time I’ve been down here.” And Sovvan hoped it would be the last time. This subterranean complex was not somewhere she wanted to revisit. I have no idea how you can raise a son here, bro. We need to talk about that when next we meet. Sovvan tried to struggle, but her legs had gone incorporeal on her, so her heels passed through the ground, removing her leverage. Just great. What else could go wrong?

  “Why are you doing this?” Cold crept up Sovvan’s body until the metal woman eased her chokehold on her. Sovvan regained some solidity as the bond to her brother pulled her toward the purple-glowing hoop Miren had popped through not two minutes before. Keep it up, bro. Pull me across that glowing threshold.

  “Why did we stop?” Her captor tugged but couldn’t pull her away. That portal kept reeling Sovvan in.

  Sovvan, I need your help.

  Sarn? I’m coming, just keep pulling, Sovvan sent through their bond. She hoped he’d hear her message, but he probably wouldn’t because his Guardian Angel had probably intercepted it instead. Can’t have me messing with her beloved Balance; now, can we? Oh no, that would never do. Sovvan rolled her eyes at that excuse then froze when Misriah’s head popped out of the portal.

  Sarn’s Guardian Angel fixed angry violet eyes on her. “Sovvan? Will you stop dawdling and get over here? Your brothers need you and your nephew too.”

  “What do you think I’ve been trying to do since I woke up in the Gray Between? But this creature keeps getting in my way. Maybe you could help with that.” Sovvan waved at the clockwork fiend behind her.

  But that imperious angel just shook her dark head and vanished back into the portal. “You’re impossible. You know that?”

  “So, you’re not going to help me?” Sovvan asked right before Sarn or his Guardian Angel gave the link one almighty tug, dragging her within touching distance of the portal. Oh, thank God. She was closer to her goal.

  “First, you talk to Dysteria, and now, you’re talking to angels? What are you?” that clockwork creature asked, but she kept trying to pull Sovvan away from that portal.

  It was too late though because Sovvan dug both her hands into that flaming-purple ring and pulled with all her might. Thank God, those purple flames weren’t real. “Who is Dysteria, and what was she talking to me about?”

  The name was familiar, but Sovvan couldn’t recall why, or how she knew it. Damn it; that memory-eating fog in the Gray Between must have taken that memory. What else had it taken from her this time? Sovvan would have to figure that out later because the portal floated toward her, and her head passed through its glowing aperture then the rest of her followed that, but so did her captor. They both fell into a tunnel of purple light.

  “What have you done?” The clockwork creature unfolded her wings, but she couldn’t extend them. The wind shear was too strong.

  “What I should have done after I saved my half brother.” I’m coming, Sarn. I should arrive soon. Sovvan extended her arms to protect her head and tried not to scream as she plummeted toward more purple light and whatever lay at its terminus.

  When the Mage Falls

  [Westchester, NY]

  Thank Fate, there were some clothes piled on top of the machine, and they cushioned Papa’s fall. I landed on my feet and dropped to my knees beside him.

  “Papa, please wake up.” I laid my head on his chest and closed my eyes in relief when it rose and fell with his quiet breathing.

  “Let me through. Make a hole. That’s my nephew weeping over there.”

  I sat up. I knew that voice. “Uncle Miren?”

  “Of course, it’s me. Who else would jump through a portal to console you?”

  “Papa would.” I scrubbed away the tears running down my face.

  “Besides him.”

  “You would.” I extended my arms. I could use a hug right now.

  The crowd finally parted, and Uncle Miren hobbled over to me. I flung my arms around him when he lowered himself on his good leg, and he hugged me tightly.

  “What happened here?”

  “She happened.” I pointed to the dragon and what was left of the boiler.

  She’d liquefied the dryer and used it to add spikes to her tail and wings. Now, she was breathing fire on the washer and melting it.

  Uncle Miren gasped when he saw the dragon. “That’s not who I think it is, is it?” His brown eyes begged me to tell him that metal monster wasn’t our Newsletter-Dragon, but she was, so I nodded. He held me at arm’s length. “So, what are we going to do about it?”

  I smiled despite the seriousness of the situation at his suggestion that we could defeat the dragon without magic or Papa’s help. Then again, maybe we could. Uncle Miren was smart. That was why Papa had sacrificed everything to send my uncle to school.

  “We’ve got help from our subscribers too.” I held up Melinda’s phone. The replies had been rolling in while we’d been distracted by deadly projectiles.

  “Then let’s do this. But first, let’s drag your father over to a nice safe corner to recuperate. Does that sound like a plan?” Uncle Miren leaned on his crutch to rise.

  I nodded because my lower lip was quivering. More tears threatened at the sight of Papa lying so still on the floor. “Will he be okay?”

  Uncle Miren cupped my face in his hands. “He’ll be fine. You just keep believing that, okay?”

  “How do you know that?” A tear tracked down my cheek before I could stop it.

  “Because I’ve seen him survive far worse than this. So, you listen to your Uncle Miren. You let that fear float away, so you can concentrate on the problem at hand because we’ve got a job to do.”

  “Okay.”

  “Good.” Uncle Miren wiped that tear away like Papa always did. He and Uncle Miren might not look much alike, but they both had bi
g hearts and lots of pockets in their tunics and trousers. Uncle Miren pulled me into another hug while I checked his pockets for food, but I didn’t find any before he let go. “Hold this for me.” Uncle Miren handed me his crutch then he bent and caught Papa under his arms and dragged him backward out of the direct line of fire. Pain etched his face.

  I followed him then stopped. This was the perfect time for an ambush. We had nothing to protect us now. Would she attack though? Did the dragon really want to hurt us?

  I turned slowly to face her and found her surreptitiously wiping a tear from her glowing eyes. The washer was half demolished in front of her. Maybe she just wanted someone to love her. “Why are you doing this?” I gestured to the wet clothes littering the tiled floor. There was nothing else between her and me except a few puddles and the remains of the washer and a lot of floor space.

  “I have my reasons.” She raised her claws and unleashed bolts of lightning.

  I backed away, and those bolts blackened the tiles where I’d just been standing.

  “Stay with me and away from that dragon until we have a shield between us and her, okay?” Uncle Miren wrapped a long arm around my shoulders. He had to lean down to do that though then he led me back to our too-quiet Scribe. Her fingers flew across the keys of yet another borrowed cellphone.

  “Hey, are you writing this down?” I stared at her thunderstruck.

  “Yes, of course, I am. That’s what Scribe’s do. They write, and this is good material. It tugs at the heartstrings.” Melinda didn’t even look up. She just kept typing away.

  “Hearts have strings?” Now, I was really confused.

  “It’s a figure of speech.” Uncle Miren took his crutch back and wedged it under his arm. His relief was palpable. “That’s better. All right, let’s take on that dragon. What do our readers suggest we try next?”

  I unlocked Melinda’s phone and touched the screen. “K. suggests we ask the dragon to answer a complicated riddle. Does anyone know any tough ones?” That sounded like a great way to buy us some time until Papa woke up.