by D M Gilmore
Asher blinked in surprise, and looked up at the large man. “That’s really generous of you,” he said, his voice gone low and coarse as he fought back tears. “Thank you, really.”
“I take it that means you accept my offer?” Nicholas asked, tilting his head and raising an eyebrow.
Asher nodded, and tucked the badge into the pocket of his pants, right up against the silver ring already within. “Yeah, but don’t get the wrong idea, Jones,” he grumbled, glaring up at the larger man. “I’m doing this for Ruth, not your organization.”
Nicholas nodded, and unlocked the door without another word.
“Before you go,” Asher quickly added, as the older man reached for the door handle, “think you can suffer through answering some questions?”
Nicholas paused for a moment, as he considered the question, before nodding. “Yes, I suppose I owe you at least that much, for sparing my life and all.”
Asher nodded, not wanting to mention that he had been seconds away from murdering the larger man. “What is COMA? I’ve heard you throw the name around and now you’ve told me I’ve been drafted, but I feel like everything I know about them is wrong.”
“The Centre of Magical Affairs,” Nicholas sighed and nodded, “has existed in one form or another for over a thousand years. We have taken a more proactive role in the last century, as we have installed dragon eggs in key locations across the world, as well as given humanity unfettered access to magic.”
“All mana orbs are dragon eggs?” Asher sucked in a breath, waiting for a confirmation of what he already knew was true.
“Yes. COMA stepped in at a time when electricity was too expensive to maintain and fossil fuels had completely run out. History remembers it in reverse, that orbs were found and then COMA was founded to protect them. We have always been in possession of the orbs, and now we simply share them while doing what we can to preserve the secrecy of our assets.”
“Which would be why COMA also took on the role of policing the ethical use of magic?” Asher asked, perking up a bit.
“Correct.”
Asher nodded his head a little bit, and then met Nicholas’ heterochromatic eyes. “Is there a way for me to break the binding I have with Esther?”
Nicholas smirked, and shook his head. “No.” This was the question he had been expecting, and therefore already had a good response ready to go. “Dragons bond only once in their lifetime. The union is permanent, which is why it’s important to bind with a partner you find cooperative or can control.”
“I didn’t choose her, though, I don’t even know how I was bound in the first place,” he grumbled and crossed his arms.
“The dragon is actually the one that does the binding. I don’t understand the intricacies of the procedure, only that it results in you being able to hear the psychic voices of dragonkind. It is, however, almost like a marriage. It is for life, Asher, you will never be able to get rid of her so long as you both live. We do not allow humans to be the first creature a dragon sees when they hatch, their minds are unstable and reaching out for something they can connect with, often binding with the first non-dragon sentient they see, should they not first see another of their own kind. There are rules—”
“Rules in place for this sort of thing,” Asher interrupted, chuckling slightly at the idea. “Funny, that’s what Sangita said.”
Nicholas’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know that name?”
“She was the one who tipped Smog off about the eggs,” Asher explained, “Ruth says you guys trained her, though I don’t think he knows it was you guys specifically. Something about her former organization, I put the pieces together myself. Which actually brings me to my next question: will there be any training on how to handle my dragon?”
“We’ll send over some reading material,” Nicholas muttered, but he said nothing more as he stepped out of the room. He spoke to no one else as he walked down the hospital corridor, turning into the stairwell as he made the four-storey climb to the roof. To anyone else, the climb would have been tiring, but Nicholas was in surprisingly good shape for his age.
As he stepped out onto the hospital rooftop, he spotted a woman sitting on the edge, her legs dangling over the side of the hospital. She had dark skin, only a few shades lighter than Nicholas’ own, and her long hair was straight and dyed a bright neon pink. To his surprise, the right side of her head appeared to be shaved.
“That’s a new look for you,” he called to her, stopping several feet away.
“Lost a horn in the other body, lost some hair in this one,” Sangita explained as she pulled herself to her bare feet, and adjusted the loose-fitting jumpsuit she was wearing. It was tailored for her drake form, not her slender human form. Dangling from her hand was silver necklace, on the end of which was a familiar chunk of pink draquartz. “So you let him live.” It was less of a question, and more of an observation.
“The council was impressed. They believe he could prove useful.”
“You are not the first to make the mistake of thinking they could control Asher Itzcovitch.”
“I had heard from the cleaning crew that there was no evidence of Smog’s body, only the melted form of an aberrant, which had to be disposed of in a delicate manner,” Nicholas sighed and shook his head. “Why are you here, Sangita? I would have thought you’d have skipped town by now, what with your little treachery failing so miraculously.”
Sangita’s fists clenched and her shoulders tightened, but she did not respond.
“Come back with me, Sangita. I promise to plead your case to the council, perhaps they could be made to agree to a decade in the chambers rather than death?”
“And be made to wear a collar? Shovel the waste of the broodmares?”
“At least you would be alive,” Nicholas insisted, taking a step towards her. “Please, Sangita…”
“Don’t beg me for anything!” Sangita whipped around, her eyes blazing and her face stretched into a sneer. She looked into Nicholas’ eyes, and saw in them the pain he was feeling. “You betrayed me once, Jones; what’s to stop you from doing it again?”
“You wanted to unleash a dozen dragons out onto the streets of London! What was I supposed to do?!” Nicholas shouted.
“I wanted to free them from the slavery of COMA! Dragons are living creatures and as deserving of freedom as any man or drake!” Sangita scoffed as she quickly pulled her necklace over her head. Her form shifted and shimmered for a second, before once again she was her drake self. The form empowered her, made her feel nearly invincible, like there was nothing she could not do.
“Then perhaps you should come back and plead your case to COMA!”
“I would sooner die,” she said, and stepped backwards.
Off the roof.
“Agni, catch her!” Nicholas screamed.
The air rippled around him as the massive, yet invisible, form of his twin-headed dragon leapt into the air and swooped over the edge, returning mere seconds later, empty handed.
Sorry, boss, Agni’s voice echoed in his head, she’s gone. Not even a splat on the ground below.
Nicholas looked over the edge in shock, but he could not refute the facts before him. Sangita had leapt off the roof of the building, only to disappear without a trace.