by Rachel Aaron
My shoulders slumped at the sight. Aw man, and I thought I’d been doing so well. But I’d have to deal with my backslide later. Right now, I needed to get to my dad.
Hopping over the rats who were already rushing over to gobble baked potato off the sidewalk, I ran around Ainsley’s twitching legs and hopped into his car. “Sibyl!” I cried, mashing the button on my earpiece to load her in. “I need you!”
“Is it time for that intervention?” she asked frantically as she came online. Then her voice grew confused. “Wait, whose car is this?”
“Never mind that,” I said, running my hands frantically over the smooth, buttonless dash. “Help me figure out how to move it!”
My AI gasped. Purely for dramatic effect since, you know, no lungs. “You’re a car thief now?! How long was I down?”
“It’s not theft,” I snapped. Then I frowned. “Well, okay, it is theft. But he just tried to murder me, so that makes it legal!”
“I don’t think that’s how the law—”
“Sibyl, would you just help me?!”
“All right, all right,” my AI said, her icon blipping as she checked in with the car’s computer. “The engine’s running, but there’s an automatic lock on the gears. It won’t start driving unless the current registered user is in the vehicle.”
I nodded and hopped back out of the car, running over to Ainsley, who was still groaning on the sidewalk. Without missing a beat, I grabbed him by his fancy shoes and hauled him across the pavement to the rear of the car. That arm must have been his big-ticket item, because he wasn’t nearly as heavy as Nik. He was still a big guy, but I moved couches for a living, and I was scared to death right now. The combination gave me strength I’d never known I had as I grabbed the man limb by limb and shoved him into the trunk.
“There,” I said, slamming the lid down and running back around to the driver’s door. “Did that work?”
“Let me check,” Sibyl said as I flopped into the driver’s seat. Sure enough, the moment my legs brushed up against the mana-contact built into the seat, the car’s AR field washed over me, covering what had previously looked like an empty dash in a rainbow of glowing displays.
“User detected,” the car said in a voice much more sultry than Sibyl’s. “Welcome back, handsome!”
I rolled my eyes and hit mute, bringing up my own map instead as I ordered the car to back out and drive us to Canada.
***
It struck me as I was crossing the New Ambassador Bridge that I didn’t actually know if my dad was in Canada. That was the last place I’d seen him, but my trip to his new house was hours ago now. For all I knew, he’d come into the city to drag me home, or maybe he was already in the air flying back to Korea. Both would have been good ideas, but neither felt right to me. The Yong I knew wouldn’t blindly charge in or run back to safety. He’d stay put in his base of power and start working on his next plot. That’s what I would have done, so that was where I went, directing my stolen yellow sports car not to my dad’s house but to the mansion next door. The one with the murderous boxwoods I’d run through just a few hours before trying to get away.
“Isn’t this karmic?” Sibyl said as I waded back through the sticky river mud around the stand of bamboo that separated my father’s stretch of riverfront from the other houses.
“I don’t believe in karma,” I informed her, yanking my feet up slowly so I wouldn’t lose my boots in the bog. “If universal balance was a real thing, my dad would have gotten his comeuppance ages ago.”
“He got you,” my AI said. “That’s certainly caused him no end of grief.”
Couldn’t argue there, but, “If I’m his karma, why am I suffering for it too?” I griped. “I haven’t done anything to deserve this!”
“Haven’t you?”
I gave her a mental death glare.
“Hey,” Sibyl said. “I’m just a mental health AI. My job is to hold up the mirror. I’m not responsible if you don’t like what you see.”
“Can we just focus on the task at hand, please?” I said sullenly, ripping my boot out of the last of the mud. “This is hard enough already without you turning it into a therapy session.”
“I just want to make sure you’re mentally prepared for this,” Sibyl said as I crept past the last of the bamboo and entered the perfectly manicured lawn of my father’s estate. “You’ve got a whole dry-cleaning shop full of hang-ups when it comes to your dad. I don’t want you to choke at a critical point.”
I didn’t either, which was why I was determinedly not thinking about anything except the job in front of me. Fortunately, this part was pretty simple. Even with the house’s floodlights, it was dark down by the water, and my clothes were covered in mud. Both made it easy to sneak across the lawn to the mansion. When I reached the wall, I flipped around, pressing my back against the stone as I eased my way down the house. It was farther than I remembered, but soon I was crouching beneath the large windows of the library-turned-receiving-chamber where my dad and I had fought.
Again, I had no idea if I was in the right place. Like everything else about this, it was just a hunch. That said, I’d never met a dragon who didn’t relish drama, and the elegant room with its throne-like seat was by far the most dramatic in the house.
Sure enough, when I peeked over the window ledge, there they were, looking like a scene out of a Renaissance painting. White Snake was sitting on the wooden chair with my father on his knees in front of her. His gaunt face was lowered to the carpet, which had once been a multicolored Persian design but was now stained a solid, uniform shade of deep, deep red. The rest of the floor was painted with the same tell-tale color, but there was so much of it, I didn’t actually realize it was blood—his blood—until my eyes landed on my father’s back.
That was when my heart stopped. Yong’s back was torn wide open, his expensive suit ripped clean away to reveal huge, deep gouges on either side of his spine. It was the sort of wound that would have killed a human instantly four times over. Not being mortal, my father was still breathing, but only just. Above him, his sister was sitting with her legs draped over the ornately carved chair arm, casually cleaning the blood out from under her long nails with the tip of one of his antique letter openers. I couldn’t hear what she was saying through the double-paned security glass, but I knew gloating when I saw it. She was lording her victory over her fallen foe, and I hated her for it with an intensity even I didn’t understand.
It was so strange. If you’d asked me a week ago would I like to see my dad on his knees, my only question would have been how much for the ticket. Now that it was actually happening, though, all I could think was that she’d had no right. That was my dad in there. I was the one who’d brought him low. If anyone was going to win tonight, it should be me, not her. She’d swooped in like a damn vulture and stolen him. Literally snatched him right out from under me! Like hell was I letting her get away with it.
“Anger is a valid emotion,” Sibyl whispered in my ear. “But White Snake is still a dragon. Last I checked, you can’t take one of those.”
“Then I’ll call the Peacemaker,” I whispered back. “He doesn’t allow bloodsport in his territory.”
“Yeah, but his territory stopped at the river,” my AI reminded me. “Windsor is neutral ground. It’s still murder, so I guess you could call the Mounties, but what are they going to do against a dragon? Especially one who’s probably about to become the next Dragon of Korea?”
Nothing. Mortal authorities were useless when it came to stuff like this. But what was I going to do? I normally didn’t go into things without a plan, but I’d been running on instinct since I’d escaped from my dad this afternoon, and a fine mess that had turned out to be. I couldn’t keep doing this. I had to stop and think. There had to be something I could do. Even for a little coward like White Snake, beating a dragon one on one was a pipe dream. Dragon fire was still magic, though, and I had a damn big draw. Maybe I could barge in and suck it all out of her before she b
urned me to a crisp?
“And kill yourself in the process,” Sibyl hissed before I’d even finished the thought. “I don’t want to undermine your progress, but you couldn’t handle not blowing up a potato on normal city magic. If you try to drain a dragon, you’re going to pop yourself.”
I wanted to say she was wrong, but that would have been a lie, and I didn’t have time for those anymore. My dad was in there alone, which I suppose explained why he hadn’t come searching for me. I didn’t know how long White Snake had been in there, but I bet she’d come straight here after Brohomir had chased her out of the consulate. That meant my dad had been bleeding for two hours at least. Maybe closer to four, which was way too long. If any of his mortals had survived White Snake’s initial assault, there was no chance anymore they were coming to help. I was all he had left, which sucked, because this entire situation was his fault. If he hadn’t been so…so draconic, none of this would have happened!
But I couldn’t just leave him in there.
I bumped my head against the stone wall. Yong was my tyrant and my enemy and my owner and my terror, but before he’d been any of those things, he’d been my dad. My father, who’d picked me up when I cried and called me his treasure. It wasn’t as sweet now that I knew he’d meant it literally, but somewhere under that mountain of resentment was a little girl still covered in pumpkin. The girl he’d cradled to his chest even though she got squash guts all over his nice suit. No matter how much had gone wrong between us since then, I couldn’t let that man die, not even if it set me free. After all, as I’d said to Nik a month ago, it wasn’t winning if you couldn’t live with yourself afterward.
Unfortunately, while I now knew what I had to do, I still had no idea as to how. I was stuck between two couldn’ts—couldn’t let my dad die, couldn’t save him. I was the one who’d hammered him down, but White Snake was delivering the finishing blow, and she was a dragon. A puny one, but still orders of magnitude more powerful than me. I didn’t even know what I’d hoped to achieve by coming here. I’d just started running because I couldn’t stay away. Now it looked like all I’d managed was to secure a front-row seat for my dad’s death.
But just as I started to sink into despair, I remembered there was one thing I had left. Ironically, it was the very thing my dad had weakened himself to win. Now, in a twist usually reserved for Greek tragedies, I’d have to give it away to save him. That should have been depressing as hell, but I actually found it very fitting. After all, no one appreciated irony more than a god.
“Okay,” I said quietly, sliding down the wall to sit in the cool grass as I looked across the river at the double-layered city glittering like a neon fairyland in the night. “You win. I’ll take the power.”
I held my breath when I finished, but all I heard—from my head and my ears—was silence. As it stretched and stretched, my stomach began to sink. I was starting to worry that she’d lost interest when an enormous voice sighed in my head.
You couldn’t have made this decision before you went to Canada?
“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” I said, bowing my head before the DFZ because that seemed like a good thing to do when you were soliciting a god. “This was a hard thing for me, okay? But I’m ready to do whatever you want. Just help me save my dad.”
That’s a tall request, the DFZ said. And not part of our original agreement. I offered you fantastic powers in exchange for saving you from your dad. Saving him as well is a pretty big Plus One.
“You’re the great and powerful spirit of the DFZ,” I cajoled. “If you can’t save a dragon, who can?”
The Spirit of Dragons.
“She won’t do anything,” I argued. “She’s the personification of dragon-ness! She’d probably just tell my dad to man up, stop bleeding all over the carpet, and claw his way to freedom.”
Technically, she’d be the dragonification of dragon-ness, but you make a good point, the DFZ said. Then her voice grew longing. It would be nice to get one up on her, though. She’s always strutting around working miracles, the drunken showoff.
I knew nothing about the Spirit of Dragons, so I had no idea if that was a fair criticism. She wasn’t the one here helping me right now, though, so I ran with it. “You should absolutely show her up,” I said. “You show everyone up! You add five feet to your highest superscraper every time a building outside the DFZ gets named ‘Tallest in the World.’ Why should you stop now? Let’s show that snake spirit who the real god is!”
See, I knew you’d be good at this, the DFZ said. You’re already talking like a priest.
“So you’ll help?” I asked nervously, peeking over my shoulder. White Snake was on her feet now, looking down at my father as if she was trying to decide if it would be more entertaining to behead him or skin him alive. “I don’t want to rush you, but I think we’re running out of time.”
I don’t know, the spirit said. I want to help, but I don’t like how forced this feels. You only came to me because you had no other choice. That’s not how I roll.
“Oh, come on,” I begged her, staring at my father with wild eyes. “You said you’d be there for me at my lowest! This is as low as I get.”
I am here for you, the DFZ said. But I told you, I only take willing servants. Gun-to-the-head situations don’t count. I’m not your dad.
Normally, that would have been a huge point in her favor, but I was seriously backed into a corner here. Selling myself to the DFZ was the last play I had. If she didn’t want me, it was over. There had to be a way to make her accept. Something I could say to convince her that—
“Wait,” I said. “What if we made a deal?”
I always like a deal, she said. Go on.
I didn’t have any time left, so I started talking as fast as I could. “I’m about to owe you nearly six hundred grand in rent. We both know there’s no way I can pay that, so what if I worked it off instead? You know, like a job.”
Sounds great! the god said. I’m always trying to boost employment, and I need priests way more than money. This deal doesn’t include your dad, though.
“No, but it would make me your priest,” I said. “You said your people get ‘fantastic powers’—your words—and I believe it. You’re a god who moves block-sized skyscrapers on a whim! Once I’m working for you, I should be strong enough to save my dad myself.”
I see what you’re doing, the DFZ said. But I don’t know if I like it. Priests are supposed to come humbly to me.
“But I’m the one in high demand,” I argued. “You’ve been pitching me every chance you got since we met. You wouldn’t fault a worker for negotiating a better deal with an employer who wanted them super bad. It’s supply and demand, and you are the poster city for the free market. You can’t tell me this isn’t right in line with your domain.”
No, I cannot, she admitted grumpily. You really are a dragon’s daughter, aren’t you? Extorting a god.
“It’s not extortion,” I said. “It’s economics. We both need what the other has, so let’s trade. I’ll serve you as a priest until I’ve worked off what I owe, and you’ll give me the power I need to save my dad. That’s it. No gun to my head, no dark bargains. Just another deal between two willing parties, same as any other job.”
Done, the DFZ said.
I stuck out my hand. It was a silly thing to do. It wasn’t as if the DFZ was actually here to shake, but I’d done it instinctively. Good instincts, apparently, because I swore I felt a ghostly hand grab mine. I closed my eyes as it happened, waiting for a surge of divine power, but all I got was the smell of car exhaust.
“Wait,” I said, confused. “Is that it?”
It is for now, my new god said. I already told you, Windsor’s not in my service area. That doesn’t magically change just because you agreed to a provisional priesthood. If you want my power, you’re going to have to come back inside my city limits.
“But my dad needs help here!” I whispered in a panic. “What am I supposed to do?!”
My priests are resourceful, the DFZ said. I’m sure you’ll figure it out. Just get him across the river and I’ll take it from there. Meanwhile, I’ll get you a distraction. The spirit paused. Uh, you might want to duck.
I hit the dirt. I didn’t know what I was trying to avoid yet, but when a city said duck, you ducked. I was still flat in the grass under the window thirty seconds later when I heard a crash across the water. This was followed by such an incredibly strange grinding noise that I had to lift my head, which was how I saw a huge suspension wire detach itself from the New Ambassador Bridge and drop down to wrap sea-monster-tentacle-style around an automated tractor-trailer that was waiting at the border crossing. The truck’s tires squealed as the tree trunk–sized wire lifted it off the asphalt, and then the whole bridge arched back like a slingshot to fling the trapped vehicle across the water.
Straight at me.
I slammed to the ground with a muffled scream. I didn’t know if the dragons heard me, but it was too late to care if they did. Not three seconds later, the freight vehicle slammed into the side of the mansion right above my head like a spear, crashing through the window and the stone wall that surrounded it before barreling straight into White Snake herself.
At least, that was what I assumed happened. I didn’t actually see it because I was hugging the dirt for dear life. When I looked up a second later, though, the dragoness was gone, along with most of the northern half of my dad’s house. It looked as if the stone building had been shot straight through with a giant bullet, and still on his knees at the edge of the hole, completely untouched, was my father.
“Dad!”
I scrambled to my feet and raced inside, tripping over the wreckage. “Dad!” I said again, grabbing his shoulders. “Get up! We have to get out of here!”
He stared at my face, uncomprehending. I stared back, trying not to freak out. I’d thought my dad had looked bad before, but the dragon kneeling on the bloody carpet was white as a ghost, his normally sea-colored eyes as dim as ash. If he hadn’t been gasping for breath, I wouldn’t have known he was still alive.