Hard Boiled

by T L Christianson

  Setting them down, he asked, "You ready?"

  It was just past dark when my uncle led me into a far part of the cave system. I'd never been in this section before, and it smelled like sulfur and mildew.

  Using a key code to access two separate doors, we came to a narrow natural cavern barred by a heavy wood and steel door. It was not only guarded, but was locked with a large iron bolt instead of an electronic lock.

  Standing before it was a nervous, heavyset, Drake woman. She wore long flowing pants with a sleeveless shirt. When she saw Durand, she smiled before turning to fumable with the lock. "I haven't been waiting too long, but it's no problem at all…" She rattled on uncertainly, and I wondered if she had a thing for my uncle. I tucked this nugget of information away to tease him about later.

  When the door swung inward, it made a loud groaning noise, and she motioned for us to go through.

  “Ugh!” I cringed as the smell hit me. It was a mix of feces and rotting meat with a hint of urine and rotten eggs. Bile rose up in my throat and I gagged.

  The woman gave me a sharp look.

  What was that for? I wondered.

  However, instead of entering with us, she pulled the heavy door closed once we were through, making me jump.

  I raised my eyebrows at Durand as she locked it again from the outside.

  “Ugh! Doesn’t she smell that?” I asked.

  “The smell gets worse. Here,” Durand said, holding up a jar of Vicks. “Rub it under your nose. It kind of helps.”

  Frowning, I did as he said, nearly blocking my nostrils with the stuff. I wanted to crack some stupid joke to lighten the mood, but even I had nothing at this moment. It was as if all the warmth and light had been sucked out of this space.

  The narrow tunnel was low and dimly lit, punctuated by the ping of water drops hitting shallow pools on the cave floor.

  Durand's lip curled up on the side, and he wrapped an arm over my shoulders, "Don't worry, Claudine will be back to set us free. But—neither of us is supposed to be down here, so you need to keep quiet about seeing George, do you understand? She's doing me a huge favor."

  "Really? What is she getting in return?" I laughed, teasing him.

  My uncle sighed heavily, but smiled as he led us down deeper into the earth. The passage was so narrow and low that we had to almost crawl to get through the final part. I fully expected to hear wailing or shrieks like a medieval dungeon, but instead, it was just the never-ending sound of uneven drops of water.

  We ended in a room lit by weak glows. The ceiling rose up into pitch black, and the only noise was the tinkling sound of water running nearby. A circular grate covered a black hole in the ground and beyond that the cave wall was punctuated by three round wood doors bolted to rock with black iron bolts. The only opening to each was a narrow gap near the bottom.

  Durand sauntered over to the last one and pointed. "That's where George is."

  The thought of George—a man I called dad for over sixteen years—being held in this place nearly brought me to tears. I'd been here for mere moments, and I wanted out. The dread and palpable suffering and claustrophobia was almost too much for me.

  I hesitated, looking over my shoulder at my uncle. "Can you open the door and let him out?"

  "Nope. I don't have the key. Talk to him through the door," Durand told me.

  My lip quivered, and I pinched myself to keep from crying. I walked over the slanting ground and crouched before the door, trying to avoid the muddy, wet ground.

  I tapped on the wood with my fingertips.

  "Dad?" I whispered.

  A phlegmy cough sounded from the other side, and then George spoke, his British accent thick, "Sydney, my darling! I thought I'd never hear your voice again." He hesitated before saying, "Unless you're here to break me out, I'm afraid I'm done for."

  "Don't say that," I told him.

  I gazed around. Durand leaned against the wall in the main room, scrolling on his phone. He was far enough away that he might not hear me. Bending, I looked through the crack beneath the door and reached my hand under it. George brushed my fingertips with his before laying down to look at me.

  His face was dark with dirt or blood.

  I couldn't bring myself to lay on the floor, but I bent down to meet his gaze.

  "I'll try to get you out if I can," I whispered. His face was hollow and slack, the bones sticking out on his cheek, his eye sockets visible beneath his pale skin. "Are they even feeding you?"

  "Three squares a day!” he said happily.

  "I know you're lying… are you..." His usual smooth jaw was covered with a thick beard, making me wonder how long he'd been here.

  A sob escaped my lips, but George hushed me. "Shh, darling. Listen. I don't know how much time I have, but we don't have any to waste. Did you get the things I asked for? Did you bring them here?"

  I let out a cry and nearly sobbed the words, "No, I couldn't read most of your letters. I don't know what you needed!"

  He let out a disappointed grunt. "Hmmm… You didn't get the things out of her grave?"

  "I don't know what you're talking about. Her grave? Celine's grave?"

  He hesitated, then said, "Well, I'm about to meet my maker. Your mother's life is in your hands. I’d asked you to get your mother’s research notes from her grave as well as the rest that Evgeni has somewhere.”

  “What? Why? Is she alive?”

  “Yes, Celine's alive and in the dragon realm—or at least she was years ago when I left her there." He reached his grubby fingers beneath the door to touch my knee.

  I stifled a cry. The coppery scent coming from him confirmed that the dark liquid on him wasn't dirt—it was blood.

  "Listen, child, I never wanted you mixed up with the Dragonborn. Hate me if you must, but I did my best, I raised you as if you were my own… and… and I couldn't be prouder or love you more if you were my own flesh and blood."

  “But I failed you! I didn’t do what you needed me to do.” Sobs racked my body as he said the words I'd always wanted to hear—the words I wish he could've said from his bed in New York.

  "Stop all this foolishness," he whispered hoarsely, as he sniffed. "Now listen. Because it's too late for me and too late to keep you safe from them, so it’s up to you to help your mother where I never could. But who knows if it's still there. That bastard Evgeni has been sniffing around me and mine since your mum went through," he said, his voice muffled because he'd sat up.

  I hugged my knees to my chest. "Can I trust him—Evgeni?"

  "What did I teach you?” he barked out.

  "Trust is earned," I whispered.

  “Yes… Right. Now listen. You must go to Celine’s grave and dig it up." He poked a finger under the door at me. "They buried an empty coffin in Celine's grave, and that's where I put all your mother's research and notes… your anchor, everything. Your anchor is there as well—an anchor that will allow you to come back from the dragon realm…”

  "I have an anchor? Like a dragon?" I asked, wiping my face but smearing dirt with the tears.

  “If it's still there, then everything should be in good condition because the casket was sealed. The rest of your mother’s research is with Evgeni. You need to find that as well. follow her instructions and you must go to the Dragon realm and bring her back!” he wheezed, his voice straining with the effort to speak. "If you don't do it, she'll be trapped there forever."

  A shiver ran through me, "But George?"

  He'd knelt to look through the bottom of the door again, "Bring her back and run! Keep away from your grandparents. Keep away from the Dragonborn, you hear me?"

  I chewed the nail on my thumb. "What if…"

  Something blocked the paltry light above me, and I looked up to see Durand.

  "We need to go," my uncle said.

  "Wait, one more thing," I told both men.

  "Hurry up then! Claudine will be waiting at the outer door," the Drake Prime warned.

  Facing George, I called out
, "What's the name of Celine's Dragon?"

  Both Durand and George answered at the same time.

  "Aevnass."

  "Aevnass… it means Gentle heart," George said, defeat, sorrow, and regret all rolled up in one.

  Durand bent and held a hand out to help me up. "Come on, we have to go."

  After crossing the main cavern, I turned around and yelled, "Be strong. George, I'll help you! I’ll get you out! I promise!"

  Ducking back into the claustrophobic tunnel, I thought I heard a sob come from behind me, but I didn't stop. The sound of our shuffling feet slowly blotted out any noise that came from that room anyway.

  I barely remembered the walk back up to the EV. Silent tears dripped from my eyes like rain. I was so confused and conflicted about everything he'd just told me.

  13

  Ashe

  I sat at the evening gather talking to Councilman Brooks, when pain spread through my body.

  Involuntarily, I pressed my hand to my chest.

  “You okay there, Carrick?” Trey Brooks asked.

  I hesitated for a moment before realization hit me.

  This came from Sydney. Something was wrong.

  My eyes searched the gather for her blond hair as I excused myself from the group. Standing, my eyes darted around frantically even though I knew she wasn’t here.

  I spotted Taya leaning against the wall flirting with a Drake soldier.

  I neared them and called out, “Tay? Where’s Sydney?”

  She shrugged. “She’s with Durand somewhere.”

  Aaraeth? I called out, searching for my bondmate’s dragon. Aaraeth? What’s happened?

  But the beast didn’t answer me.

  “Where are they?” I growled.

  She motioned me over and whispered, “I think Durand took her to see George.”

  “Oh shit, seriously?” According to my intel, very little food or water had been brought to his cell… Oh crap, was he dead?

  She nodded. “Why? And why are you all freaked out?”

  “I’ll tell you later, I have to go!” I yelled as I ran through the giant exit and down the hall.

  Rushing through the main tunnel, I let the bond draw me toward her. My anxiety spiked as waves of her emotions crashed over me.

  Around the bend in the BSS corridor, I spotted Durand hovering over an EV parked at a funny angle. He stood helpless, watching Syd as sat on the ground. She gripped her knees to her chest, as her body shook with sobs.

  “Sydney!” I shouted, kneeling next to my mate. I wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. Looking up at Durand, I demanded, “What the hell happened?”

  He frowned. “Carrick, this is none of your business.”

  I gestured to her, then back to him. “Seriously? You were just standing there watching her cry… on the ground!” I tilted my head and narrowed my eyes. “Did you take her to see George?”

  “Shhh,” he shushed me as his eyes searched the empty hallway.

  “Is he… dead?” I whispered.

  “No, he’s not dead.” Durand held out the keys to his electric car. “Here, just take her home—and don’t breathe a word of this to anyone.”

  “Yeah,” I told him, pressing my lips together as I watched him jog away.

  Syd gazed up at me with bloodshot eyes and a mud streaked face. Her chest heaved with breath like sobs even though she made no noise.

  “Why are you so dirty? Never mind, come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” I pulled her up and ushered her into the front passenger seat. Running around I slid in next to her and drove us to the baths. Once I stopped the car, I scooped her up and carried her across the bridge and into the family pools. The baths were empty, which I wasn’t surprised about as I set her down on one of the benches.

  Grabbing a towel from the rack, I dipped it into the hot water and squeezed it out before kneeling in front of her.

  “Look up at me, babe,” I said and she tilted her chin up. I smoothed the stray strands behind her ears and began cleaning her dirt streaked face with the damp cloth. Her tears had stopped, and she watched me—her eyes alert and expression wary. “You don’t need to talk if you don’t want to, and it’s okay if you want to cry. It won’t bother me.”

  I took one hand at a time and wiped her palms like I’d done so many times for my nieces and nephews.

  “Why are you doing this? Why did you come to find me?” she asked, her voice shaky.

  I smiled grimly, concentrating on cleaning the dirt off her knees and shins.

  Looking up, I met her gaze. “I felt you. You’re part of me. Of course, I was going to come find you.”

  More tears leaked from her eyes, “George…”

  “It’s okay. I’m going to get him out,” I whispered, using a clean part of the towel to wipe her fresh tears.

  “What?” she asked, and I nodded.

  “I’m breaking him out tomorrow night,” I said.

  She began crying again harder before wrapping her arms around me. Her lips and nose were pressed against my neck, driving my thoughts into not so innocent places.

  She sniffed and pulled back. I was glad she’d stopped crying, but reluctant to let her go.

  “I want to help,” she breathed.

  “You can help by telling me about the layout and specifics of Lockup, like where he is and what kind of shape he is in.”

  Syd nodded. “I can do that.”

  As she said that, an older man entered the family bath before stripping down and wading into the pool.

  “Let’s go,” I told Syd, pulling her up from the bench.

  I kept her hand in mine as we avoided the naked man on our way out.

  Back in Durand’s EV, I steered it up toward the residential wing.

  “Tell me everything, starting with the layout.”

  She nodded and began explaining the tunnel leading to and from the central area. She then went on to tell me about George being covered in blood.

  I kept her hand in mine as I drove, and when her breath hitched on a word, I pulled it to my mouth and kissed the soft skin of the back of her hand.

  Parking in front of her home, I continued to listen to what she said, filing away every detail to help Cor and me tomorrow night.

  When my questions slowed, and her details ran thin, we strode to her front door.

  There was usually a guard stationed here, but for some reason, there wasn’t tonight.

  I held her hands intertwined in mine.

  “I miss you,” I told her.

  She pressed her lips together and breathed, “I told you how it has to be.”

  I nodded, staring into her eyes, my gaze flicking to her lips and back.

  She broke one hand free and pressed it against my chest. “Don’t.”

  I smiled and attempted to look innocent. “Don’t what?”

  “Don’t look at me like that. You look at me like that, and I know what it means,” she said.

  “Yeah? What does it mean?” I teased.

  I was digging my own grave, but I couldn’t help myself. It took an enormous amount of strength to resist her. Her lips were swollen and red, her cheeks were flushed pink, and her dark lashes spiked out around her big blue eyes.

  She evoked something within me, something precious and sacred but dark and primitive—emotions that I couldn’t understand, let alone explain.

  “You are so beautiful, you know that?” I told her, my voice breathless.

  She rolled her eyes at me, a smirk threatening the edges of her lips.

  We were standing there, so close… and she was so delicate and fragile and warm. I wanted to protect her, keep her with me forever and never let her out of my sight.

  I’m not sure what I saw in her eyes, but it wasn’t resistance; if anything, it was the same thing going through my own mind—need.

  Pulling her hands around my neck, I pressed her to me. I kissed her hair and then her temple… but that wasn’t enough. Smoothing back her hair, I cupped her
face in my hand and she leaned into my touch.

  “Let me kiss you,” I asked, pouring all my unspeakable emotions into my words.

  She licked her lips, her chest heaving against me with anticipation, her eyes darting to my mouth.

  “Let me kiss you,” I said again.

  But instead of tilting her face up to me, she gazed down at my black officer’s shirt, where her hands rested against my chest, her fingers tracing my name tag.

  Her desire for me flowed through our connection, but I wouldn’t take that as an answer.

  “Sydney?”

  Without meeting my eyes, she stepped back and pushed against me as if pushing herself away. “Let me know when you’ve freed George,” she said, turning her back to me.

  Her hand rested on the doorknob. I reached out to touch her shoulder but I let my hand fall to my side instead.

  “I will,” I told her as I watched her slip into the house.

  14

  Sydney

  The following day, I thought of nothing but Ashe—his gravelly voice, and the way he stared into my soul, drinking me in, making me feel beautiful, loved, and desired.

  It had taken every ounce of willpower to deny him.

  I’d wanted him to just kiss me—take away my choice, relieve me of my guilt… but he hadn’t, and he wouldn’t. Ashe wasn’t like that.

  I’d looked for him at second meal, and our eyes met briefly across the room.

  Afterward, I stood on the dragon ledge, my mind wrapped up in stupid things, when Aaraeth prodded me to let her loose. I complied and freed her before flopping onto the bench.

  Come, fly with me, she urged, making what passed for a dragon smile as she nudged my leg with her snout. She stared at me with her strange, multifaceted, dragon eyes.

  Of course, I gave in. “All right, but just for a little bit. Okay?”

  She spun in delight; her tail barely missed knocking me off my feet. I climbed up her offered paw and situated myself on her back. Gripping the spikes on her head, I gave her the mental go ahead.

  Instead of taking a leap and flapping her wings, she dove off the ledge, sending fissions of fear and excitement through me. When we neared the ground, she beat her wings furiously to rocket us back into the sky.