Dragon with a Deadly Weapon

by Michael Angel

  Liam looked to me. “What does a pattern of color have to do with a man’s record?”

  I shushed him and motioned for Galen to go on.

  “Our Sir Slate joined the dragon riders and worked his way up by serving in various positions with distinction. His commanding officers repeatedly cite certain things. His bravery, for one. His abilities with magic, which attracted the attention of the Wizard’s Guild. And most commonly, a ‘recklessness bordering on arrogance’. Yet his gifts must have outweighed his faults, as he eventually secured the position of the ‘Supreme Dragon Rider and Defender of the Realm of Andeluvia’.

  Shaw let out a squawk. “Fie on thee! ‘Tis no such position!”

  “Ah, but you didn’t let me finish,” the Wizard said, with an annoyed ruffle of his parchments. “He held this position for a total of six hours. Then, during the banquet following his investiture, Sir Slate – I see no reason to repeat his grandiose title – stated that men with such talent as his should be leading the kingdom.”

  “Ouch!” I said, with a wince. “That probably didn’t go over well.”

  “I can personally attest to the fact that King Benedict was known for his good humor,” Galen continued. “Yet he reacted quiet strongly to the implied challenge to his authority. Benedict not only stripped Slate of the title, he banished him from the kingdom for a solid year and permanently dissolved the ‘Supreme Dragon Rider’ position.”

  “Based on what I have heard,” Liam said, “it seems that Benedict was a good, merciful king. Most Andeluvian monarchs might have simply executed the man.”

  “Benedict did not call for the headman’s axe,” the Court Wizard pointed out, “but he took steps to make sure that all the Dragon Knights knew their place. He demoted the youngest, Captain Vazura, to work under Lord Behnaz. And then he began sending Captain Vandegrif overseas on various missions, ostensibly for ‘diplomatic reasons’.”

  “Might this be the last we hear of thy Captain Slate?” Shaw asked.

  Galen shook his head. “Not quite. He served out his time in exile and returned to serve at the Royal Court many years later. According to all, he was a changed man. More quiet, reflective, and ‘physically diminished’, whatever that may mean.”

  The ‘young old man’, I thought, as I recalled Vandegrift’s words. I’m no sawbones, but he had a waster’s illness or something. Like the life was being sucked right out of him.

  “The Good King Benedict accepted his service and restored his position as Captain, though he never assigned him a dragon to ride again. Apparently, Sir Slate served loyally from then until the day of his death.”

  “Methinks he was as loyal as he was dead,” Shaw remarked. “That is to say, ‘not at all’.”

  The drake had a point there. But this time my brain was waving a red cape in front of me, like a matador trying to entice the bull to charge. And I was bull-headed enough to take that challenge.

  “Galen,” I said, “you mentioned that Slate returned to the Royal Court ‘many years later’. When did Benedict dismiss the man in the first place?”

  A rustle of parchment as the Wizard checked and re-checked the dates on his documents. “Based on what I see here, he was dismissed from service twenty-two years ago.”

  My brain pulled the red cape to one side with another one of its oddball clicks.

  “It fits,” I said firmly. “It all fits.”

  “The timeframe, you mean?”

  “Yes! That’s exactly what I mean!” I stepped away from the gravestone and did my best not to pace while I laid it all out. “Slate joins the Air Cavalry and works his way up, learning all he can about dragon riding and the use of magic. Twenty-two years ago, he attains the top position before being exiled by Benedict. The question is…where did he go next?”

  Liam’s eyes went wide as he spoke next. “The unicorns. The Everwinter Glade.”

  “Precisely. His response to being denied power…was to seek out more of it. The unicorns must have already known how powerful he was if the Wizard’s Guild took note of him. And that’s where Slate went, gaining tutelage under Master Dekanos until he went one step too far.”

  Galen nodded. “Asking for a spell that could bend the will of a full-grown dragon.”

  “The wizard’s duel that erupted between Sir Slate and Master Dekanos must have been a close-run thing,” I said. “Because Master Windkey said that Dekanos was wary of humans ever after.”

  “That’s why the unicorns withdrew from the world,” Liam agreed. “And why they changed what types of magic humans are allowed to learn.”

  “But here’s the part that you don’t know about yet,” I went on. “Alanzo called me before I arrived here and told me that Crossbow Consulting was founded twenty years ago. And Maxwell Cohen, the man I hired to investigate Crossbow Consulting, said something very similar – that he never found anything from Archer that was older than two decades.”

  Shaw raked the floor with his talons. “Dost thou think that Harrison murdered thy friend Cohen to keep thee from learning this about Archer?”

  “No. I don’t think Archer had anything to do with Cohen’s death.” I looked around and spoke my next words with the air of finality. “But here’s what I’m sure about. Sir Slate was banished twice: once from the kingdom of Andeluvia, and once from the Everwinter Grove. That same man managed to make it to my world, where he founded Crossbow Consulting. And that means he’s tied into the plans of the Creatures of the Dark. Somehow, he’s at the core of everything that’s happened here.”

  “Right,” Liam said, with a toss of his antlers. “The only questions that prick at my hooves now are these: how do we find Archer, and then stop him?”

  A chill night wind whistled through the pillars around us, providing no answer.

  Until my mind made one final, little click in the back of my brain.

  “I don’t know how to stop him,” I said, “but I bet I know how we can find him.”

  With that, I led the way out of the mausoleum and back outside. Galen sent the little ball of weirlight bobbing in front of me so that I could make my way surefootedly back to our starting point. I waited until everyone had gathered around the message that the Wizard had left glowing on the stones outside the North Keep. The runes still glimmered weakly against the darkness.

  “I’ve been on the fence about Grayson Archer for some time now,” I announced. “That’s because for every evil action he’s taken – assassinating Chief Sims, for starters – he’s also done something that helped me. Even if it wasn’t apparent at the time. For example, by taking over my ‘case’ from McClatchy, he helped shield me from the man’s wrath for a while. He also saved me from Harrison when I arrived in Crossbow’s warehouse. So…I guess I’m willing to make some educated guesses here.”

  “What might those be?” Galen asked.

  “First off, I don’t think Grayson Archer’s in control of Crossbow Consulting. Not anymore. Archer was shocked when I suggested that he might have ordered Maxwell Cohen’s murder. Karl Nystrom said that Archer hadn’t killed him, even though he’d stolen from the man. And I was there when the order went out to kill Isabel Vega. The men who killed her were from Crossbow, but the direction came from Harrison, not Archer.

  “Second, if Crossbow’s mercenaries aren’t under Archer’s command, they’re as much a threat to him as to us. Grayson Archer is the one who’s showing up and attacking each office to eliminate that threat. And that leads me to my third guess.”

  I pointed down towards the glimmering runes.

  “Taken one way, this message could mean ‘turn back, or death awaits’. But taken another way…couldn’t it read: Put away your fears and come ahead?”

  Shaw cocked his head at me as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Thou dost think this is…an invitation for tea?”

  “Okay, maybe not that,” I admitted. “Maybe it’s a challenge. Come at me, unless you fear your doom! How does that sound?”

  “Methinks that sound
s much more satisfying.” A gurgle sounded from the drake’s midsection. “And mine own stomach feels it could think better when full of food.”

  I let out a tired laugh. “I couldn’t agree more. But let’s eat well while we can.”

  “That sounded ominous,” Liam observed. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because I want us ready to move at dawn,” I said evenly. “We’re going where Archer is directing us. So we can settle this once and for all.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  To my surprise, Shelly Richardson’s snoring was able to drown out a Wizard’s magical incantations.

  In a strange way, that was quite an accomplishment. Of course, Galen was trying to be quiet during this morning’s spellcasting. On top of that, sound tended to reflect off the bare stone walls and ceilings that made up my downstairs bedroom. Shelly’s buzz-saw snores were echoed and amplified as if she were sleeping inside an echo chamber.

  I’d ceded my bedroom on the lower level of the tower to my friend when she’d returned late last night. Chicken-fried mouse had been such a hit that she’d spent much of the evening cooking and serving for the Albess and the entirety of Andeluvia’s Parliament. A good time must have been had by all, as she’d started snoring as soon as her head hit the pillow.

  Her need for deep sleep turned out to be a blessing. I had a hunch that whatever my friends and I ran into today would be hazardous. The last thing I needed was a teary goodbye or worse, an insistence that I take her along.

  After I got Shelly to bed, I had Percival bring up a makeshift cot for me. I spent a restless night in it. At least until the gray light of dawn peeked over the horizon, and my friends arrived with breakfast in tow.

  We ate in near silence.

  Call it premonition, but no one felt like joking around with each other today. Galen and I finished our meals first and quietly discussed our next moves. He then attempted his spell, which fizzled as his words were swamped by Shelly’s noisy respiration.

  The Court Wizard cleared his throat and waited for a relatively quiet pause. He murmured his spell more quickly this time. My transport medallion glowed a soft orange for a moment before returning to normal.

  “The crafting is complete,” Galen announced. “Be aware that this is a single-use spell. Once you tap the medallion on your fingers three times, I’ll know to bring us through to your location. After that, it shall only cast its usual transport magic.”

  “That’s what I needed,” I said. “Almost as much as Shaw and Liam needed their morning meal.”

  Shaw let out a low chortle at that. The sun finally crested the horizon enough to illuminate my tower room, casting light on the now-empty plates and bowls that covered the room’s table. Liam’s antlers stuck up from the far end as the fayleene Protector finished the remnants of the bowl I’d set on the floor for him.

  At least one dish had been left untouched. That would be for Shelly, when she woke up. I’d penned a note for her, which I left weighed down by another single-use spell medallion to take her home. The note explained how I’d covered for her at work, that my friends and I were out gathering evidence, and how to use the return-spell medallion.

  “I’m hoping that this shouldn’t take more than a few minutes,” I cautioned. “If Shelly wakes up, just tell her something that jibes with my note, okay?”

  “Sometimes discretion is the better part of valor,” Galen said. “We shall await your signal in the outer courtyard by the Royal Rose Garden.”

  That put a smile on my face as I activated my transport spell. A swirl of ozone-scented white, and the transport spell spat me out inside Shelly’s kitchen. I went over to the counter space where she kept her spare cell phone. I checked to see that it had a fully charged battery and then tapped in Alanzo’s number.

  Esteban picked up on the third ring. I heard the slurp of someone downing a quick sip of coffee before he spoke.

  “Hola, Shelly. Early for a call from you.”

  “Actually, it’s me,” I said. “I couldn’t get a new phone in time, so I’m borrowing Shelly’s spare. Remember how I said that I’d been checking with my sources regarding Crossbow?”

  “I’m not going to forget something like that.”

  “I need to bring these sources over to Crossbow’s offices to give it a run-through,” I said, and I mentally crossed my fingers that he wouldn’t strongly object. “But I wanted to run it by you first. You’d know if the security cameras or intruder alarms are back up. Or if the LAPD has put anything else in place.”

  “I’m glad you checked with me,” he said warmly. “You’re in luck. The LAPD’s pulled their people out of there for now. The place is locked up, but the security systems are shut down. Even better, the entire building’s empty of people, top to bottom.”

  That surprised me. “What happened?”

  “Controlled evacuation, all thanks to the efforts of the CSSC. That’s the California Seismic Safety Commission. The local chapter figured that the bomb blast made the mid-rise structurally unsafe in the event of a major quake. So, the building’s going to stay vacant until they can get structural engineers in to shore it up.”

  I shook my head. Well, at least California’s labyrinthine state bureaucracy was working in my favor. For once.

  “Thanks for the intel. I’ll let you know what I find.”

  “Hold up,” he said quickly. “I’m still unofficially attached to this case too, and I’m in the area. Meet you there in six or seven minutes.”

  “See you at Crossbow’s offices,” I said, before I ended the call.

  I wasn’t thrilled about Esteban joining me, but it wasn’t like I could stop him from coming. I took advantage of the delay to head to the bathroom to freshen up. As much as I loved being in Andeluvia, it was a blessing to use a non-chemical toilet for a change.

  After taking care of business, I went into my bedroom and pulled out the gun safe under my bed. I stopped for a moment and considered things. That same uneasy feeling from breakfast still weighed on me. I didn’t stop at putting on my shoulder holster and loaded weapon. I also grabbed an extra magazine and tucked it into one of the holster’s mini-pockets.

  This time, I held my breath as I squeezed the transport medallion. It didn’t help much, as the bitter scent of ozone still crept up my nostrils. Still, it had been worth a try. The whiteness evaporated, leaving me in the wrecked elevator foyer outside of Crossbow’s offices. The tang of the ozone gave way to the nose-tickling smell of plaster and powdered sheetrock.

  The entire front wall of Crossbow’s offices had been ripped out, leaving heaps of debris piled neatly around the perimeter. A barrier of crime-scene tape and orange cones sat in its place, but I was able to move that out of the way without much problem.

  I noticed that some of the shrapnel stuck in the walls and a couple sections of office furniture had been removed. That was probably so the OME could do additional explosives testing and tracing. They would work hard, but they weren’t going to find anything except carbon, sulfur, and whatever else wizards used to make things combust.

  A ping came from the freight elevator door and Esteban stepped out. He was in plainclothes today, and what he wore looked slept-in. But his brilliant smile and familiar scent blotted that out as he walked over to me and I drew him in for a kiss.

  “Mmm,” he said, as he released me. “You sure that your sources need to come right away?”

  I made a mock-strike at him. “They’ve been waiting for me to summon them already!”

  A sigh. “Duty calls for all of us, I guess.”

  I tapped the silver medallion three times, as Galen had instructed. A deeper ping, as if the freight elevator had doubled in size, rang through the air. I took a step back as the forms of a griffin, centaur, and fayleene appeared in a photo-bulb flash of white.

  “Whoa!” Esteban breathed, as he sized up the centaur. “Galen, right? You’re…well, you’re a lot larger than I remember.”

  “I do not believe that you’ve seen m
e in my natural form before,” Galen said, as he flicked his chestnut-colored equine tail. “I hope it does not unduly distress you.”

  “Distress? No, no. Surprise, maybe. I’ve been taking to heart what you once told me: This is reality, one should accept it.”

  The Court Wizard inclined his head. “You are wiser than you appear.”

  Esteban turned to look at Shaw next. He jabbed a finger in emphasis. “You, on the other hand, look just as badass as ever.”

  The griffin practically purred. “The Wizard is right. Thou hast an intellect that is much more pleasing than thy face.”

  Luckily, Esteban was too busy addressing the third member of my party to hear Shaw’s words. To my surprise, he did a passable bow. Liam looked surprised, but performed the fayleene’s own version of a bow, his antlers doing a graceful sweep to one side.

  “Dayna’s told me of your, ah, crowning, Protector of the Forest,” Alanzo said. “I didn’t get a chance to meet you the last time you were here, but it’s my pleasure to do so now.”

  “The same goes for me, Alanzo of Esteban,” Liam stated. “We did not meet, for I was captive at the time. I thank you for your efforts in freeing me.”

  “Now that introductions have been completed,” I said, “would the magic-using members of our party do a quick sweep? The last thing I want is for us to walk into some wizarding trap inside those offices.”

  “Of course,” Liam said, and Galen nodded.

  Esteban watched, his eyes alight with interest as both fayleene and centaur walked to separate ends of the foyer, their hooves making loud clops or clacks against the stone floor. Both spoke under their breaths. Sparks flew from Galen’s upraised hand and Liam’s antlers. Shaw let out a yawn, as if mildly bored.

  “Did you sense it?” Liam asked, as he returned to the group.

  “I most certainly did,” Galen replied. He turned and pointed towards Crossbow’s ruined front office. “There are no magical traces here beyond what was used to turn this wall into powder. Yet the Protector and I sense a powerful enchantment that lies within a room at the far end of that chamber.”