Dragon Spells

by Melinda Kucsera

  “If it ever ends,” I said darkly. We were no closer to a solution than we were before. I started to pull Melinda’s phone out of my pocket then stopped. What if we’d been looking in the wrong place for the answer to our dragon problem? Instead of looking outside us for the solution, maybe we needed to look within ourselves. The answer could already be somewhere in this room.

  “It will end. Everything does.” Papa rubbed my back as he held me close to his heart, where his true power lived.

  Where did that dragon’s power live? Was it in her armor? Or somewhere else? I turned in his embrace, so I could scan the room. A big hand covered my eyes again after I caught a glimpse of that metal lady circling the dragon. She made a few feints, testing the dragon’s reflexes as she searched for an opening.

  “Hey, I want to see them fight.” I pried two of his big fingers apart, so I wouldn’t miss anything. Through that gap, I had a pretty good view of the standoff right as it ended.

  That metal lady rushed in and punched the dragon in her circuit-board-covered chest, cracking those metal cards.

  In response, the dragon backhanded that metal lady and sent her flying through a wooden door into a storage closet. “You bit—”

  “Language,” Melinda snapped. “There’s a child present. Please keep the cussing to a minimum or I will cut you out of the final story.”

  “You’re going to write a book about this?” I’d seen her taking notes, but I’d thought she’d just use this as material for our next Curse Breaker book, which took place in our world where Papa could kick magical butt even when he was exhausted. If we were back under Mount Eredren right now, his magic would be out, protecting us and generally ignoring whatever Papa wanted it to do. I missed its independent spirit, but this place had dampened it.

  “Won’t that be confusing for our readers?” Uncle Miren asked, but he didn’t sound at all unhappy about starring in a new book.

  Melinda leaned against the wall. “I’ll work it out somehow. I just don’t know how yet.”

  “We have books?” Papa looked at me when he asked that, not our Scribe.

  I glanced at my uncle, and he shook his head as I knew he would. Papa wasn’t supposed to know about the Curse Breaker books, which starred us. So, I stayed quiet, and so did my uncle. Melinda didn’t say anything either because we were all part of the conspiracy. We’d just pretend he didn’t say anything at all, and maybe he’d forget about it.

  Shy introverts like Papa didn’t like their lives on display, but Uncle Miren and I weren’t like that. We liked the attention. All this thinking about books reminded me there was something I’d wanted to talk to Melinda about. It was book-related, but I couldn’t remember what. Was it something I saw in her apartment? I added that to my mental list of things to figure out later when our lives weren’t in jeopardy.

  “Do me a favor and leave me out of that story. I’ve had enough of books to last me a lifetime.” The metal lady charged out of the storeroom brandishing a shovel in each hand and distracted Papa before the silence on this side of the room grew anymore strained.

  The dragon laughed. “What are you going to do with those? Tickle me?”

  “This. They might not understand technology, but I do.” The metal lady nodded to us then she rammed the shovels into the ceiling tiles, breaking them up. Bits of some sort of mineral fiber rained down as she whirled and threw the shovels at the dragon, who wasn’t laughing anymore.

  She caught them in her claws easily enough and melted the shovel pans into spear points. “Thanks for the weapons.”

  “Enjoy them for the time you have left.” The metal lady jumped as the spears flew toward her and grabbed something in the ceiling. She bent at the waist and swung her feet up as blades shot out of her toes to sever the bundle of wires she held.

  All the lights went out, but enough sunlight shined in from outside to illuminate the room. All the blinking panels in the wall had gone dark and the boiler too.

  “No! It’s all mine. You can’t have it!” The dragon rushed the metal lady, and they crashed into the door of another storeroom.

  But a soft glow drew my eyes back to the boiler. That object I’d seen before was fully visible now since the dragon wasn’t blocking my view anymore. The black ball had a dim white nimbus, but I wasn’t sure if that was new. It might have been there before. “What is that? Papa, can you use your magic to find out?” I pointed to the thing.

  He shook his head. “No, I can’t. I think it’s generating the field that’s interfering with my magic.”

  “I’ll get it.” Uncle Miren hobbled away before Papa could stop him.

  “Wait, don’t. It might hurt you.” Papa clenched his fist when Uncle Miren ignored him and kept on hobbling away.

  To be fair, I would have done the same thing. We’re a little too alike sometimes, but I didn’t want him to get hurt either. “Come back, Uncle Miren!”

  But we needn’t have worried. The metal lady tumbled out of the storeroom, chased by the dragon, and her crystal eyes glowed brighter when she saw that black ball and its expanding nimbus. “There you are. I’ve been looking for you.” As she ran, the metal lady fumbled open a panel on her molded abs, and a gold glow spilled out of it. But it must have generated a field too because something shoved her backward into the dragon.

  But my uncle didn’t turn around even though he’d never reach the boiler before that metal lady or the dragon who tossed her aside. They weren’t encumbered by a bad leg and could run faster.

  The metal lady was already up and running after the dragon. “Oh no, you don’t.” she grabbed the dragon’s tail and pulled.

  “How dare you!” the dragon turned her head and blew a fireball at the metal lady, forcing her to release the dragon’s tail or lose an arm. “What’s that in your belly? Could it be another orb? You certainly took your sweet time to reveal it. Now, we can get this party started.” The dragon’s spines lit up as she turned to face the metal lady.

  A hail of lightning bolts shot from her spines, and the metal lady seized as that electricity bounced between her gears. One bolt just missed my uncle.

  “Come back here.” Papa gestured, and his magic reached out and seized Uncle Miren, dragging him back across the wet tiles to us, and none too soon. His boots made farting sounds as he slid.

  I covered a laugh by faking a cough because this wasn’t a laughing matter. He could have gotten seriously hurt. When he got within range, I hugged his leg, glad he hadn’t gotten hit, and he patted my head.

  “How did you know I was coming when I didn’t know that myself?” the metal lady regarded the dragon with her rose crystal eyes as she fought to close the hatch in her belly before her joints seized up. She managed it then froze. I hoped she was only temporarily out of action.

  The dragon took full advantage of that. “It doesn’t matter who. All that matters is that you’re here in my grasp.” The dragon flexed her extended claws, and more lightning bolts shot out of them.

  They wove into a brilliant net before they slammed into the metal lady, wrapping her up in it. But she just stood there unable to move as her skin melted in places, and sparks jumped between her joints. “Is that all you’ve got?” The metal lady wobbled and went down on one knee.

  “Having trouble?” The dragon poured on the lightning, and that invisible field around her brushed against my face.

  Papa convulsed as it passed through him, and he slid down the wall he was sitting against to the ground. He was still shaking violently.

  “Papa?” I touched his face, but he didn’t respond. “Please wake up. You’re scaring me. Papa?” But the longer he lay there, the more fear squeezed my heart, making it throb painfully in my chest.

  This was bad, maybe even worse than before, and I didn’t know what to do. Papa was the strong one. He always had a plan, but not this time, and that thought stuck in my head for some reason. Had I given him a chance? A shadow fell over me, and I had no more time to consider that as I looked up and hoped i
t was a friend come to help me, not a fiend come to gloat over Papa’s predicament.

  The Drawing of the Scribe

  [Somewhere in Westchester, NY]

  Let me out. Since Sovvan was part ghost, she tried to slide between the pages, but hands seized her and pulled her backward before she made any progress at all. “Who’s there? Misriah? Is that you? This isn’t funny.”

  “Not her,” said a woman in a loud whisper.

  “Then who are you?” Sovvan stopped struggling for now.

  “I’m not important. Nor is my identity, but there’s something you need to know. Something no one else will tell you because they’ve forgotten the truth.”

  “But you conveniently remember it, right? And what a coincidence that you’re here now to tell me this. Look, I might not have much actual life experience since I died when I was a young child, but I’m not stupid.” Sovvan peeled a hand off her arm. “And you’re not here to help me. Stop pretending you are.”

  “It’s not convenience or chance. You and your metal friend took me with you when you fell.”

  “Great, now I’m talking to a giant book. Can this get any stranger?” Sovvan twisted her arm free of the other hand. Since when did books have hands inside them?

  “I’m not just a book. I’m an impression of the Scribe who wrote it, and she’s trying to help your family.”

  “She is?” Sovvan wasn’t often flabbergasted anymore because her afterlife had been a wild fourteen-year ride thus far full of the weird and the wonderful, but this topped the list in both categories.

  “Yes, but she’s forgotten something important.” The book flipped open, shattering several glass windows, to reveal a cloudy sky and rows of strange conveyances with big rubbery wheels. Some were damaged by its crash-landing.

  Sovvan sat up and stretched the kinks out of her back. “Where are we?” because this wasn’t Shayari, the land of her birth. It wasn’t the Gray Between or the Dead City either. Sadly, those were the only places Sovvan had ever visited alive or dead. I need to get out more.

  “We’re somewhere near where your Scribe lives.” Several pages rustled in the wind.

  “My family is somewhere around here, aren’t they?” Sovvan scanned the rows of vehicles as she rubbed her arms through the thin material of her robe to warm them. It was cold here, but she didn’t see her family. Were they in that boxy building at the far end of the parking lot? Sovvan touched the glowing chain hanging limply between her breasts. Bro? Are you in there?

  But there was no answer, not even a heartbeat. Maybe he was out of sensing range. Their bond functioned on its own rules, and they were a mystery to her. Sovvan put her worry out of mind. It wouldn’t do any good right now.

  “They’re close. But we’ll talk first, then we’ll go to them. Deal?” An ink sketch appeared on the page of a plump woman in her thirties wearing a blue jacket.

  “Make it quick, and you have a deal. What did this Scribe forget?” Sovvan folded her arms and wondered how long before the people way down at the other end of the parking lot noticed the giant book and her sitting on it.

  At least her wings were hidden, so she looked semi-normal for a dead girl. Sovvan ran her hands through her windblown hair and quickly braided it, so it would be out of the way for the upcoming fight, and there would be one. Fate owed her one for putting her through all this drama.

  “What is the balance your brother’s Guardian Angel is so keen to uphold really between?” the drawing asked.

  “Good and evil?” Sovvan hazarded.

  The drawing of the Scribe motioned for her to elaborate on that.

  But Sovvan shook her head. “Beyond that, I don’t know. Why don’t you just tell me?” Because guessing would take more time than a straight answer, and time had to be running out for her family. Hang on. I’m coming. I just need the universe to let me get to you. Sovvan gripped the bond, but she still didn’t get any information from it.

  “You’re no fun. All right I’ll just tell you: life and death, order and chaos, which are just another way of saying entropy versus syntropy or negentropy. The Balance is the equalizing of those forces so neither overcomes the other.” The drawing looked at Sovvan like that was supposed to make some sort of sense to her.

  “What if one does win over the other? What happens then?” Probably something bad, but Sovvan hoped not because then she might have to pay attention when Misriah prattled on about that Balance thing.

  “Armageddon. One just gets there faster than the other, but they both lead to the same end. That’s why it needs to be maintained. We need some chaos, but we also need some order to thrive.”

  “Okay, but how does this help my family?” Sovvan stopped rubbing her arms. It was time to move this conversation somewhere indoors preferably where her family was.

  “I don’t know. I just figured you should know since Dysteria went to so much trouble to make sure this book and that knowledge disappeared into that plot hole.” The inked woman spread her hands and shrugged.

  “This is all great, but I need to go to my family now.” Sovvan slid across the page on her rump, but before she reached the edge, it lifted off the vehicles it had damaged and flipped over. A pair of inked hands caught her arms and flung her onto the book’s spine. It was about as wide as a horse’s back, but it had no saddle.

  “Oh no, I’m not riding into battle on a giant book. That’s not happening.” Sovvan lifted her leg over the spine and prepared to slide down the cover until hands grabbed her waist. This book sure was grabby. “Take your hands off me.”

  The book didn’t, but she was glad it hadn’t when it opened and closed, flapping its pages like wings. But it did the trick because the book lifted into the sky.

  “This is faster than if you walked, and I know where you need to go. You don’t.”

  “I’d rather walk.” But Sovvan scrambled for a handhold.

  “Even though your brother’s life is at stake?”

  “What do you mean? Explain.” Sovvan banged on the book’s spine.

  “The balance between magic and tech is skewed here. Add to that the growing chaos, which makes it harder for your brother to control his magic, and the rise in entropy, which pulls energy and most magic out of the system, and he’s not doing well,” the book said.

  “What do you mean by most magic? Why not all magic?” Sovvan was glad she’d tied her hair back as the wind streamed past her.

  “Some magic isn’t energy-based. Some types of magic are fueled by things that cannot be taken, only given.”

  Sovvan snapped her fingers. “Like belief?”

  “Yes. Entropy doesn’t affect that because what you believe is a choice.”

  Sovvan touched the link to her brother. I believe in you, bro. Take what power you need. “Will that entropy thing affect me? I’m already dead.”

  “I don’t know. You’re not energy-based or magical. There’s another force animating you. I’m not sure how you’ll be affected. Things are too chaotic here to tell.”

  “Good. How far away are we from my family?” Sovvan slapped the spine when there was no answer. “Hey, book, answer me.”

  But it didn’t. The book suddenly plummeted toward a ribbon of black winding along the banks of a broad river. Sovvan pounded on the cover. Oh not again. We just crash-landed. Must I do that again?

  Apparently, she must because the book dropped like a stone toward that road and the vehicles racing along it. Sovvan covered her head and hunkered down, praying this time, she would land on something soft, like a river, not a road.

  Chains and Promises, Oh My

  [Westchester, NY]

  “Here, let me.” Uncle Miren dropped his crutch and grabbed Papa under his shaking arms and dragged him and me because I was still clinging to Papa. “Get out of the way,” Uncle Miren shouted as he backed toward the foyer. But was that far enough to get Papa out of that strange field? “Ran, get off him. He’s heavy enough without you added on. If you want to help, get my crutch. I’ll nee
d it when I stop.”

  I shook my head. Even if I’d wanted to comply, Papa’s arm was still locked around my waist, ensuring I stayed with him. But I could walk beside him and give my uncle a break. After all, my legs worked just fine. They were just considerably shorter than my uncle’s, forcing me to run to keep up with him.

  “I’ve got it. Just drag him as far as you can.” Melinda appeared crutch in hand.

  I tapped her leg as she passed me. “Is Papa okay? He’s not shaking anymore.” But his eyes were closed, and he was unconscious again.

  “I don’t know. Just stay with him, okay?”

  I nodded. “Why’d we stop?” I could still feel that weird field. It was cold and prickly—the opposite of Papa’s magic, and I didn’t like it at all. It was draining me too now.

  Uncle Miren pulled, but Papa didn’t move. “I can’t drag him any further. He’s stuck.”

  “On what?” I raised my head, but it felt heavy on my shoulders.

  “Because of this.” Melinda reached down and under her hand, a luminous white chain appeared. One end was buried in Papa’s chest, but the chain extended back into the laundry/boiler room and out of the broken window.

  “Where’s the other end?” I touched one of the links.

  “Ran!”

  “Auntie Sovvan?” I said in awe. Where was she?

  “Who else would be at the other end?” Melinda shrugged as she let the chain slide through her fingers.

  “What happens if we pull this chain?” Could we bring my aunt to us? I tugged, but nothing happened because I was a kid with very little arm strength.

  “Don’t.” The metal lady tipped over onto her side when the dragon ran out of lightning to push into that net. It also dissipated, leaving the metal lady lying on the chain. Drat. Through the holes in her skin, her internal gears were showing, but that didn’t phase her. Then again, neither did the dragon breathing fire at her.