Dragon’s Blood: A Dystopian Fantasy

by Ann Gimpel

  It was a sure bet everyone who’d wanted out was long gone.

  Torches sat in sconces on both sides of the gates, casting eerie shadows on the walls. Dewi sat across from a black dragon, wings folded along her back. They were on our side of the gate, but it didn’t matter. The gate-latching mechanism was clearly broken. Equally clearly, Arawn hadn’t set foot here for a long time or he’d have done something besides pay lip service to the damage.

  I didn’t blame him. It was downright creepy in the Ninth Circle of Hell with the weight of the rest of the realms of the dead bearing down on me. Worse than the Grade B horror flicks I’d watched before the world broke.

  “Here they are,” Dewi chirped. “Your daughter has come as well. She’s been worried ever since she discovered we sent you away.”

  Oh-oh. I’d suggested Dewi lie but hadn’t expected to be drawn into the charade.

  “Daughter?” Cadir’s great head whipped this way and that. “Ye mean the one I never met because I was banished afore her birth?”

  “Aye, she is with me,” Zelli informed him, and the warding around me shredded.

  I felt naked, but this wasn’t an occasion for me to be my usual snarky self. I hopped down from Zelli and walked closer to Dewi and Cadir. Bowing my head, I said, “I am so grateful you’re unharmed. Nice to make your acquaintance.” After a brief pause, I stuffed, “Father,” in as an afterthought.

  Now that I was closer, I saw he was a bit smaller than Quade, and some of his scales held a brownish cast. His eyes were deep, dark pools, spinning slowly.

  Cadir shuffled around Dewi and moved nearer to me. It took all my self-discipline not to back up. Artifice has never come easy, but I smiled and met his gaze as I felt him probe me with magic.

  His touch felt wrong, slimy, but I kept right on smiling. Apparently, the dragons had decided Bjorn should remain hidden.

  “Daughter. I like the sound of that. Once I’ve been returned to my rightful place among my kinsmen”—he stopped and cast baleful looks at the other three dragons—“ye’ll move in with me. I shall require a maid to attend to my home.”

  “Perhaps,” I said. “I have a mate back on Midgard.”

  “Och. Such a shame. Well, I’d allow him to visit.”

  I rode herd on the anger ratcheting through me. Things were going well, but they could slew sideways in the space between two breaths. “We can talk with him about it.” I was still smiling; my face felt stiff and stretched and unnatural.

  “Shall we go?” Dewi’s words were an invitation, but I read the subtle weaving of compulsion beneath them.

  Using the lightest touch imaginable, I slotted a slender thread of magic outward, intent on assessing Cadir’s mindset. At first I thought I’d been caught when my power reared back and slapped me, but the blast of unexpected magic was Loki.

  The trickster danced through a gash in the ether. His multi-hued hair was mostly red but held bits of black and silver and green. Tall and large-boned as befitted his giant heritage, he was clean-shaven with eyes the shade of curdled cream. When I’d seen him before, he’d had a blue cape tossed over his shoulders. The cape was still there. Tight leather pants sat beneath it, and his chest was bare.

  Loki clambered onto Cadir’s back. “They’re lying to you, Dragon-boy. Take me away from here.”

  Dewi, Quade, and Zelli bugled outrage. They might be planning to kill Cadir, but it didn’t mean they’d sit by while anyone else turned him into a glorified hobbyhorse to order about at their pleasure.

  “Get off him,” Dewi ordered.

  “Celtic whore,” Loki bellowed. “What will ye do to me if I don’t?”

  Instead of answering, she shot a stream of fire-laced ash at Loki. His hair smoldered and would have gone up like a field of dry grass, if he hadn’t quenched the flames with magic.

  “Might work with fire from one of us,” Dewi said, “but three dragons stand ready to defend our fellow.”

  Something shifted within Cadir. I saw it in his eyes. Where before they’d been crafty and appraising, pride shone from their depths. Magic flickered the length of his back, and he shouted, “Get off me. I dinna invite your presence.”

  Loki tried to make it appear he dismounted of his own volition, but it was nip and tuck whether he’d fall on his ass on the rocky floor. When he came to a stop, he placed his legs shoulder-width apart and stared at the three dragons. And me.

  “Ye’re his spawn.”

  I cocked my head to one side. “Your point?”

  “They’ve suckered you,” he addressed Cadir. “Pulled out all the inducements. Sweetened the pie. Do ye actually believe ye’ll be welcomed back in Fire Mountain after ye broke Midgard?”

  “’Twasn’t me but Ceridwen,” Cadir spoke stiffly.

  Loki rolled his eyes and capered about like a court jester. “Technicalities, Dragon. Technicalities. I floated the idea. Ye liked it. Ye rattled the Celtic bitch’s cage…” He turned his hands up and offered a simpleton’s grin. “We changed history, Brother.”

  “And now we shall change it once again and bring him home,” Dewi growled.

  Cadir glanced from her to Loki. Power flowed from the trickster, thick and cloying as honey. Dewi merely looked at Cadir but didn’t employ any spells.

  Wise of her, and I believe it made the difference. Loki was trying too hard, but Dewi fell back on the dragon-kinship bond. Smoke puffed from Cadir. “I am ready to return to Fire Mountain,” he announced, but then his gaze fell on me. “As is befitting, my heir and daughter shall ride on my back for the trip.”

  It was the absolute last thing I wanted to do, but neither did I want to throw a wrench in a plan that had gone off swimmingly.

  So far.

  “As a Dragon Heir, I am bonded to Zelli,” I told him, “but I’m certain she won’t mind.” If things got dicey, I could always teleport the fuck off his back and figure things out later.

  “This has turned way too ‘Old Home Week’ for my taste,” Loki announced and disappeared in a cloud of glittering mist.

  We hadn’t seen the last of him. I was certain of it.

  Cadir moved closer to Zelli and inclined his head. “I would have your blessings on our trip back to Fire Mountain.”

  She nodded his way. “Ye do, Cadir. Take care with my bonded one.”

  To my utter shock, his dark eyes sheened with tears that clattered to the dirt as precious gems. “Runa is my daughter. Ceridwen robbed her of her proper dragon name. Do ye know how many days, nights, years, I’ve dreamt of meeting her?”

  I’d been nervous about trusting my well-being to him before, but my apprehension shot through the roof. In his own way, Cadir was as much of a monster as Loki. And of course, he would know my true name.

  Dewi puffed steam, creating a pathway for me to mount Cadir. “I shall manage our journey spell,” she said.

  “Just as well,” Cadir told her. “My magic is weak from long disuse.”

  That bastard! He was lying. He’d broken free of the outer borderworlds, supposedly an impossible task. Dewi’s power wrapped around us. I held my mind quiet and built wards around it as the bleakness of the Ninth Gate exploded. It was replaced by the glowing aspect of the dragons’ special traveling tunnels that led to Fire Mountain.

  At least we’d made it this far. The journey was long; much could go wrong. I floundered as I searched for something to talk about to deflect Cadir from whatever he might be plotting. Requesting the story of how he and Mother had gotten together was the wrong approach. So was asking how things had gone since he’d been banished.

  I reflexively felt for Dewi’s magic. It wasn’t there. Panic narrowed my throat, and my heartbeat soared. “Where’s Dewi?”

  “Who knows? She must have left. We doona need her. I can teach you everything ye need to know about being a dragon.” He sounded smug, but how in the fuck had he wrenched us from Dewi’s casting?

  “I’m certain that would be lovely.” My mind raced. What should I do next? Play dumb or make a run
for it?

  “Excellent. Our lessons shall begin now.”

  The enclosure burst, leaving me in the airless void between worlds. Cadir made a grab for me, but he was clumsy in the absence of air to buoy his bulk. All he got was a hank of my hair. Before he had a chance to try again, I kindled power of my own and launched a travel spell. It wasn’t elegant, but it was fast and strong. Once I had it well in hand, I built the strongest ward I could.

  If it worked, it would spit me out in Inverlochy Castle. The Celts had promised aid. They were bound by their word. They hadn’t lined out what their assistance would look like, but I didn’t care as long as they herded my bastard of a father to Fire Mountain where Dewi would cut out his heart.

  In many ways, this development was a relief. I’d actually begun to feel sorry for him. “Fuck me once,” I muttered despite the lack of air, “shame on you. Fuck me twice, and you’re dead.”

  The amulet pulsed. I held onto it—breathed through it—as I hurtled through the dark abyss between worlds.

  Chapter Nineteen, Bjorn

  I was flabbergasted and furious when Cadir made a bid to take Rowan with him. I couldn’t believe it when Dewi and Zelli agreed. I fought against the spell Quade had wrapped me in until he hissed, “Stop. Ye must remain hidden.” It was in the midst of Loki’s antics, so no one heard. I wanted to scream at Quade. Why was it important Loki didn’t know about me? I wasn’t some kind of top-secret weapon. I struggled some more. In a pitched battle against Quade, I might prevail, but there’d be blood on both sides of the tracks.

  The minute the dragons’ travel portal closed around us, I was done being quiet. “We just made a big mistake,” I told Quade. “I’m going after Rowan.”

  “Have faith in her,” he told me. “And settle down. None of this will take long.”

  “But it’s the better part of an hour to Fire Mountain.”

  “Aye, but Cadir will show his hand long afore that.”

  “Show. His. Hand. How?” I growled. “He has Rowan, goddammit to fuck. She’s my mate.”

  “She’s also competent. Ye’re acting like she hasn’t been taking care of herself since she was a child.”

  “Aye, but—”

  The channel or tunnel or whatever surrounded us blew outward amid a deafening roar that I felt all the way to the soles of my feet. Quade still held me within his magic, but it was fading fast. “Ha! Faster than I expected,” Quade shouted into my mind. “Head for Midgard.”

  “Not Fire Mountain?”

  But the dragon didn’t answer. We weren’t connected any longer. I was turning head over heels, plummeting through the void between worlds. We’d just left Midgard, so returning to it would be quick. I lined up enough magic to get me headed in that direction and hung on. Breathing is high on my list, and it wasn’t possible where I was.

  I screamed for Rowan. Extending my mind voice as far as I could. No response. Why hadn’t I taken the time to learn about the dragons’ travel pathways? Had the whole shebang blown up? I’d bet my last farthing Cadir had engineered the destruction. But how? Dewi was supposed to be in charge of shepherding them to Fire Mountain.

  I hadn’t believed the dragon for a moment when he’d whined about his power being weak. He hadn’t felt weak, and it had been simple enough for him to shuck Loki from his back.

  That gave me serious pause. Loki was more powerful than Odin in some ways. I had a tough time believing Cadir could have unseated him without his cooperation? Had the whole thing been one of Loki’s elaborate manipulations where we’d been conned into playing our parts?

  My lungs were on fire. My head pounded, but I poured as much magic into my spell as I could while still hunting for Rowan. Telepathy might not reach her, but if she was anywhere nearby I should be able to sense her.

  Unless she’d warded herself.

  I didn’t believe Cadir could snare her, but if he was in cahoots with Loki, the two of them could probably make her life miserable. My mind devolved into feverish images that blasted me one after another. They had a common theme: revenge. I’d get back at Cadir and Loki. It might take years, but I’d do it. A pale-gray line showed around the edges of my casting. Midgard was near. Unless I’d screwed up and landed elsewhere.

  Not likely.

  The next time my starved lungs sucked reflexively, they were rewarded with thin air. It would only get better. “Rowan!” I tried again.

  “I’m all right.” After a pause, I thought I heard, “Inverlochy.” Made sense she’d head for where she knew she had friends.

  Relief socked me in the guts so hard, I doubled over. Bad idea because I’d just crossed Midgard’s boundary and was dropping like a stone. Feeling like the greenest sorcerer ever, I made enough corrections to slow my descent and to determine I’d come out in the wasteland that had once been Northern Ireland. A ruined city rose around me, but all that remained were rubble piles. Belfast was my first guess. It had plenty of bombed-out buildings even before the Breaking.

  I hadn’t taken care to ward myself, and high-pitched shrieks told me my clumsy entrance hadn’t gone unnoticed.

  “Doona worry,” I shouted in Gaelic. “Not staying long.”

  The boom of an old-fashioned muzzle loader hurried me along. Thank the gods those antiques were nearly impossible to hit anything with. My so-far-unused hardware still hung from various belts. I crafted a ward and a teleport spell, instructing the latter to spit me out somewhere near Inverlochy. I’d been aiming for the ruined castle this time and was embarrassed how far off the mark my magic had been.

  Probably a by-product of the dragons’ travel pathways blowing up.

  Moments later, I tumbled out very near my goal, which had been a grove of willows on the River Lochy half a kilometer from the castle. Black wings blotted out the weak light of a fading day, and I redirected my power fast, fortifying my ward and drawing lethal enchantment to my bidding. A sword would be useless against a dragon, and—

  Breath rattled from my lungs once the dragon dropped near enough for me to recognize Quade. Damn it. The beasts should come in more than half a dozen colors. He plopped down next to me and scooped me up with his forelegs, tossing me on his back.

  “What took ye so long?” he rumbled. “I’ve been overflying this whole area hunting for you.”

  “Midgard is a big place, and I, uh, miscalculated.” No reason to go into detail about it.

  We were airborne before I was done talking. A staunch blast of magic moved us past the illusion the castle hid behind and into the Celts’ council chambers on the top floor. Everyone was there. The Celts. The three dragons. And Rowan.

  Not even trying for elegant, I vaulted from Quade’s back and ran to her, bundling her into my arms. She held on tight.

  “No time for that.” Dewi’s voice broke into my joy and relief. For just this one moment, the rest of the world could stand down, take a break, or go to hell. I didn’t care which. Rowan was in my arms. It was all that mattered.

  Claws closed over my shoulder hard enough to hurt. “We need your attention,” Quade said in a tone I’d never heard from him. Not for the first time, I wondered about his history. About where he stood in the dragons’ hierarchy.

  Rowan wriggled out of my arms. A huge hunk of her hair was missing on one side of her head, leaving bloody scalp beneath. For once, the Celts were quiet.

  “Where are the witches?” I asked Rowan.

  “Downstairs. I only just got here too,” she said.

  “I reassured them all was well.” Gwydion nodded my way. “The influx of strong magic so close was unnerving.”

  “Where’d Cadir go?” I gazed around the room.

  “Not Fire Mountain,” Dewi said acidly. “I made certain of that once he attempted to divert the travel pathways.”

  “You’re who sabotaged them?” I stared at her. Today was turning into a collection of unexpected events.

  “I did.” The dragon’s scales clanked when she shook her head. “I have no idea how he managed it, b
ut he altered the endpoint. We were heading for a world I’ve only visited a handful of times. It sits on the boundary betwixt the outer borderworlds and the remainder of them.”

  “Loki must be behind this,” I growled.

  “I doona think so.” Odin’s harsh voice startled me. I hadn’t seen him, because he didn’t wish me to. Everyone in the room turned to stare. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one he’d fooled. Underestimating his power is a mistake I often fall prey to.

  He stomped forward. “I invited myself. Figured ye’d all be here. Thor followed Loki to your version of Hel,” he said to Arawn. “Needs a wee bit of repair from the sound of things. Anyway, Thor dinna care overmuch for Loki’s performance, but his admission he was the force behind the Breaking, was his undoing.”

  Odin’s nostrils flared, and he drank from one of the horns around his neck. “His undoing for now. That one never remains where we put him for long.”

  “Where is he?” Gwydion asked.

  “Jotunheim. The giants were furious enough to agree to stow him in their stone dungeons. Apparently, his last visit there he told them I was about to walk away from the Nine Worlds.” Odin narrowed his eyes. “As if that would ever happen. I am bound to my kingdom, my realms. And they are bound to me through Yggdrasil and magic.”

  He shook a fist in front of him. “The giants willna be able to hold Loki forever, but we’ve assigned a dozen elves to periodically siphon his magic. If we can keep it low enough, the stones will mute the rest. For a while. Loki will find a way out. And then we shall return to dancing about one another like angry bears.”

  I wanted to clap; instead, I bowed to my liege. “Thank you. Even if it doesn’t contain him, this was long overdue.”

  “What happened after ye left Hell?” Arawn asked.

  I wanted to hear it told in order too.

  Dewi lumbered forward and then turned until she faced the room. “When Cadir made a bid for Rowan to ride on his back, I figured he was planning something. If he meant to go to Fire Mountain, he wouldn’t have cared how she got there, despite his show of tears.”