Last Dragon Standing

by Rachel Aaron

  “Agreed,” said General Jackson. “We all die the moment the Leviathan finishes off what’s left of Algonquin’s water, so slowing the draining of the lakes should be our number-one priority. I’ve already got every military jet in North America on standby. Add in Heartstriker and the Golden Empire, and we should have enough air supremacy to stop those tentacles cold.”

  Raven shifted his huge clawed feet. “Not to be a naysayer, but I don’t think that’s going to be enough. When I was trying to find a way inside, I got a look at just how big the Leviathan’s body actually is. I couldn’t do a fly-by in the real world due to the still out-of-control magic, but I did nip into the Heart of the World to take a peek through Shiro’s scrying circle.”

  Marci had forgotten all about that. “Of course!” she cried, smacking her forehead. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

  “Don’t feel bad,” Raven said. “I have infinitely more experience with being tricky than you do. Anyway, the point is, I finally got a clear look at our enemy’s new guise, and it’s big.”

  “How big?” Emily asked.

  “Apocalyptically,” the spirit replied, scratching a quick map in the frozen dirt with his claw. “The Leviathan’s body spans the entire Great Lakes region. There’s tentacles from the tip of Lake Superior all the way to the eastern edge of Lake Ontario. The water alone is over ninety-five thousand square miles of territory, and he’s covering the land in between as well. That’s seven states with a sky full of giant flying End Times. Not squirrelly little East Coast states, either. Midwestern ones.”

  Myron put his head in his hands. “Then we’re finished,” he said quietly. “Even if everything was ready to go right now, there’s no way we can guard that much territory.”

  A horrible silence fell after that. Everyone, even Amelia, was looking at the ground. The only ones who didn’t look as though they’d just heard the drums for their own execution were the seers. Bob didn’t even seem to be paying attention. He was just sitting on the ground with his eyes closed, the lids fluttering rapidly as his eyes moved behind them. Marci dearly hoped that meant he was searching the new possibilities for an outcome where they didn’t all die, but he could have been lucid dreaming for all she knew. The Black Reach, on the other hand, was standing to the side with his arms folded as if he were merely an impartial observer to the end of this drama, which, considering he could leave at any time, Marci supposed he was.

  “We can still run,” the construct said when the silence had stretched too long.

  “You can run,” Amelia snarled. “We’re still screwed.”

  “No one needs to run,” Julius said firmly, turning to smile at Marci. “We’ve got the best minds on the planet working together. We can figure this out.”

  Marci blushed at the implied compliment, which was as sweet as it was inaccurate. She’d become Merlin because she had the right attitude for the Heart of the World, not because she was a particularly brilliant mage. That was Myron’s job, and he looked just as stumped as everyone else. It wasn’t that she didn’t have her moments, but for all of her academic aspirations, at the end of the day, Marci was just a regular old Yellow Pages mage. Aside from Ghost, the bulk of her actual experience with magic was in curse breaking, wards, and banishing obnoxious minor spirits like the female tank badger she’d pulled off her and Julius’s last paying client before—

  Marci froze, eyes going wide. “What about a banishment?”

  Amelia arched an eyebrow. “What about a banishment?”

  “You can’t banish a Nameless End,” Myron said at the same time. “They’re not spirits.”

  “That doesn’t matter,” Marci said, her voice trembling in excitement as she pointed at the black shape in the sky. “The whole reason that thing is able to be in our plane is because Algonquin’s been hiding it. If that’s true, then it doesn’t matter if the Leviathan himself is a spirit a not. He’s relying on Algonquin’s magic to keep himself hidden, and Algonquin can be banished.”

  “That makes a surprising amount of sense,” Raven said, turning his head. “Myron, you’re our expert. Could we banish it?”

  “In theory, I suppose it’s possible,” Myron admitted grudgingly. “But it won’t work in reality. There’s a reason Algonquin was never banished. She’s just too big. The circle required to suck all the magic out of the Great Lakes would encompass the entire northern hemisphere, not to mention the mages you’d need to actually use it.”

  “How many mages?” Emily demanded.

  Myron thought for a moment. “At least a hundred thousand, which is ninety-nine thousand nine hundred and fifty-two more than the current world record for largest casting team.” He shook his head. “It’s not a bad idea, but it simply won’t work on this scale.”

  “Not if I did it your way,” Marci said. “But I’m not talking about a draining banishment.” Her lips curled in a smirk. “I’m talking about dropping the hammer.”

  Myron’s eyes grew wide, and then he pressed his palm to his face. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Why not?” Julius asked. “What’s the hammer? And why can’t she be serious about it?”

  Marci opened her mouth to explain, but Myron beat her to the punch.

  “There are two methods of banishing spirits from the physical world,” he said authoritatively. “The most common is a draining banishment, which is where you trap a spirit in a circle and suck out its magic until it either surrenders or can no longer maintain a physical form.”

  “That’s what I used on all our spirits back when we had our business,” Marci explained.

  “Precisely,” Myron said. “Draining banishments are a staple mage tool because they are a safe, reliable, and highly effective method of controlling spirits. Also, draining banishments don’t require you to have any magic on hand beyond whatever was needed to trap the target initially. Since you’re sucking power out of a spirit, the process is always a net positive for the mage, which is fortunate because you often need that magic to fix whatever disaster inspired you to banish that spirit in the first place.”

  “But that’s not what she’s talking about doing,” General Jackson said.

  “No,” Myron said, shooting Marci a dirty look. “Miss Novalli is referring to the second type of banishment, colloquially known as a ‘hammer banish.’”

  “Why?” Julius asked.

  “Because that’s exactly what it does,” Marci said, taking over the conversation before Myron talked them out of the idea she hadn’t even explained yet. “The whole point of a banishment is to reduce a spirit’s magic to the point where it’s no longer a threat. Draining banishments do that by sucking magic out, but hammer banishments do the opposite. They work by hitting spirits with so much power, their own magic is blown to bits. It’s like throwing a rock into a puddle. Get a big enough rock with enough force behind it, and you can knock every drop of water out of that sucker, leaving the puddle dry.”

  Raven grimaced. “That doesn’t sound pleasant.”

  “Oh, it’s horrible,” Marci agreed. “It also takes an enormous amount of magic, which is why most mages never do it. But if you can land a hammer banish, it works instantly, which is its key advantage here.” She glanced at Julius and Chelsie. “Remember when we were fighting Vann Jeger, and it took me forever to banish him?”

  “How could I forget?” Chelsie growled. “We both nearly died multiple times.”

  The Qilin turned to her in wonder. “You fought the Death of Dragons?”

  Chelsie nodded as if that was no big deal, but Marci didn’t miss the smug smile she was struggling to hide. Neither did the Golden Emperor, who seemed to be falling in love all over again.

  “Anyway,” she moved on. “That’s the downside of a draining banish. Vann Jeger was only a fjord, but I still pulled on him as hard as I could for over half an hour without making a dent in his magic. Assuming being consumed by the Leviathan hasn’t changed her size, Algonquin is much bigger. Even if we could somehow get a hundred thousand
mages working together, the Leviathan would probably kill us all before we drained him down to anything like a reasonable size. If we use a hammer banish, though, we won’t have to touch his magic at all, which means he won’t see it coming until the hammer lands on his face.”

  “But how are you going to get that much magic?” Myron asked. “A hammer banish requires at least an exponential square of the magical mass of the target. Cubed, if you want to be sure. Where in the world are you going to get that kind of power, and where are you going to put it?”

  “Um, dude,” Marci said, pointing at the glowing magic that was still rising from the ground beyond Ghost’s barrier like a snowfall in reverse. “I don’t think magic is going to be a problem. As to where to put it, that would be an issue if we didn’t already have access to the biggest magical circle in the world.”

  Myron looked confused for a moment. Then his eyes lit up, and Marci knew she had him. “The Heart of the World,” he said, his voice trembling with excitement. “Of course, it held all the magic in our plane for a thousand years. Assuming we could repair the seal, it would hold the magic necessary for a hammer banish, no problem.”

  “So you’re saying it would work,” General Jackson confirmed.

  “If we can gain access to the Heart again and fix the circle, it’s definitely possible,” Myron said. “But even if we could pull it off, I still don’t know if it would do any good. Even the hardest banishment is only temporary. You’re just sending a spirit back to the Sea of Magic, not destroying it permanently. All the Leviathan has to do is gather up enough magic to become corporeal again and he’ll pop right back in.”

  “If he were a normal spirit, sure,” Marci said. “But as everyone’s gone to great lengths to point out, he’s not a spirit. He’s just hiding inside one. He doesn’t have a domain or a vessel or any of the normal stuff spirits have to catch them when they fly apart. If we banish all his magic, he’ll have no power left and nothing to hide what he really is. Best case scenario, we explode Algonquin’s magic, the Leviathan’s left naked, and the plane kicks him out like it always should. Worst case, we still disperse all the magic he’s gathered, which means he has to spend time picking it up again, maybe a lot of time. The bigger a spirit is, the longer it takes them to re-form after a banishment. I’m sure that cooldown is shortened now that we’re up to our necks in magic, but we’re still putting time back on the clock. That’s not small potatoes considering the death of everything we know might only be a few hours away.”

  “Fair point,” Myron admitted grudgingly.

  “Of course it is,” Marci said. “You think I didn’t think this through? Small banishments and curse breaking were how I paid my way through college. You just worry about fixing the Heart of the World. I’ll take care of the rest.”

  “Oh you will, will you?” Myron said suspiciously. “And how do you intend to gather that much magic before the Leviathan eats us all?”

  “I’ve got a plan,” Marci said confidently. “You just make sure you’ve got your end.”

  Myron looked highly skeptical, but Emily just nodded. “That’s settled, then. We’ll banish it.”

  “Hold on,” Svena snapped. “You can’t just say what we’ll do. I don’t take orders from humanity’s dragon slayer.”

  “Too bad,” Emily replied dryly, crossing her scrap-metal arms over her chest. “Because so long as our Merlins are the ones with the plan, humanity’s holding the cards right now.”

  “Would you both knock it off?” Marci said. “We’re all in this barrel going over the waterfall together, don’t forget.”

  “I forget nothing,” Svena said. “And I did not say your plan was bad, just that I would not take orders.” She glanced up at the Leviathan. “You will need time to pull this off, yes?”

  Marci nodded. “Not as much as we’d need for a draining banishment, but it’ll still take a while to repair the circle and get the magic together.”

  “How long?”

  “To repair a catastrophic break in the greatest piece of spellwork architecture the world has ever known?” Myron blew out a long breath. “I’d have to do the math before I could—”

  “More than an hour?”

  When he nodded, Svena turned to stare at the Phoenix with unnervingly predatory ice-blue eyes. “Humans do not have all the cards, it seems. If you are going to do this, you will need our help.”

  “I thought you’d already agreed to help.”

  “They agreed,” Svena snapped, waving her hand at Julius and the Qilin. “But I alone speak for myself and my sisters.”

  Emily heaved a long-suffering sigh. “What do you want?”

  “Complete immunity for my clan from the UN’s dragon hunts,” Svena said without missing a beat. “And no more shipping through the Siberian Sea. That is my private territory, and the vibrations from the cargo ships disturb my magic.”

  “Really?” Julius said. “You’re worried about this now?”

  “I can’t make Russia give up its northern trade lanes,” Emily said at the same time. “I’m general of the UN’s Anti-Dragon task force, not queen of humanity.”

  “If we help save the world, I see no reason why our demands cannot be met,” Svena said stubbornly. “I’m promising you the most magical dragons in the world. Surely that’s worth some international leverage.”

  Emily ground her teeth. “Fine,” she said at last. “I just hope for everyone’s sake you’re not all talk.”

  “You have not begun to see what we can do, tin soldier,” Svena replied, lifting her chin. “My sisters and I were burning spirits to ash back when your kind was still farming dirt with rocks. We will show that black slug what it means to trespass on our plane.”

  Katya nodded rapidly at that, clutching Svena’s fluffy hatchlings in her arms. Amelia, however, looked less impressed. “How are you going to do that?” she asked. “Not to dig up old grudges, but you couldn’t beat me. What chance do you think you’ll have against Big and Ugly up there?”

  “Why must you always be so literal?” Svena snapped. “I didn’t mean I was going to beat him. As the Phoenix just pointed out, that’s the humans’ job now. All we need to do is stall the creature. For that, we need dragons, and I know how to get us dragons.”

  Amelia scoffed. “Where from? Because unless you’ve got a few hundred more puffball whelps you haven’t mentioned, your clan’s a little short to be making promises like that.”

  “Please,” Svena said. “Only your mother confuses children with power. I was referring to this.” She reached out to poke Amelia in the breastbone. “You’re the one who set herself up as a god. Start acting like one.”

  Marci had no idea what that meant, but Amelia was staring at Svena as if the white dragon had just shown her magic for the first time. “She’s right.”

  “Of course I’m right,” Svena said. “I’ve always been the brains to your brute strength. That’s how our relationship works.”

  “Shut up,” Amelia said, but her face was a huge grin as she turned to face her brother. “You need dragons to slow the Leviathan? I can get you every single one.”

  “That would be amazing,” Julius said. “But how? Can you open portals straight to dragons now?”

  Amelia sighed. “Sadly, no. I’m not that awesome, at least not yet. But I am connected to every living dragon’s fire, which means I know where everyone is, and I can talk to all of them.”

  “Great,” Chelsie grumbled. “Of all the dragons, you’re the one with the megaphone.”

  “You won’t be complaining when we save your feathers,” Amelia snapped. “I might not be able to bring in the dragons I call, but I don’t have to. As she just proved by teleporting through a magical disaster, we already have the best teleportation mage in dragon history right here with us.”

  “Flattery will get you nowhere, Planeswalker,” Svena said with a sniff. “But feel free to go on.”

  “I’d rather you show me yourself,” Amelia said, turning her grin on Svena.
“You started this plan. Here’s how we’ll finish it. I can locate any dragon, and I know you can teleport anyone anywhere if you know where they are.”

  Svena jerked back so fast that that her daughter, who was sleeping on her shoulder, nearly fell off. “How do you know that?” she cried. “That knowledge is top secret, the hidden weapon of my family!”

  Now it was Amelia’s turn to look smug. “It was secret, until I read it in your fire.”

  “What?”

  Amelia placed a hand on her chest. “Hey, god here, remember? I see you when you’re sleeping, I know when you’re awake. I know if you’ve been bad or good, so do what I say, for goodness’ sake!”

  Svena clenched her jaw. “First, that doesn’t even work with the song. Second, Santa Claus is not a god, so your comparison isn’t just stupid, it’s also incorrect. Third, this whole thing is invasive and disrespectful. I never gave you permission to read things out of my fire!”

  “I can’t control what I see,” Amelia said defensively. “I just looked, and there it was. What was I supposed to do, not see it? Besides, this was your idea.”

  “My idea was for you to do the shuttle service!” Svena roared. “Do you know how much magic teleportation takes? I just laid a full clutch of eggs! You can’t expect me to teleport hundreds of dragons thousands of miles through magical fallout!”

  “You’re the one who’s always claiming to be the greatest dragon mage in the world,” Amelia reminded her. “It’s put up or shut up time. Your secret’s already out, so we might as well use it not to die. And speaking of not dying, we need to get on that, because we’re racing against an unknown timer, and we’ve been standing around talking for, like, three days.”

  They’d been here for thirty minutes tops, but the point must have been well made because, after several angry huffs of icy smoke, Svena threw up her hands. “Fine. But this is not over, Planeswalker! I want to know exactly what you’ve seen of my abilities, and then I want to know about everyone else’s.”