Hard Boiled

by T L Christianson

  Not even the stress and anxiety of the day could keep me awake for any longer, and soon I drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

  I awoke drenched in sweat because our tent now sat in direct sunlight, but as I shifted, I realized that it hadn’t been the heat that woke me up—something was nearby, pawing at the ground and snorting.

  I bolted up but held still until I realized what… or more like who, it was.

  Aaraeth.

  When I peeked out the opening, I saw her playing in the dirt and rolling around on her back.

  “What on earth are you doing?” I asked, leaving the door unzipped as I crawled out and put my shoes on.

  My back is itchy, she told me as if that were the most obvious conclusion.

  I was parched, and my body was stiff from sleeping on the ground. I needed something to drink, but first, I needed a fire. The air was cool outside the tent, and I’d need to boil any water from the nearby creek if we were to drink it.

  I searched through the bag for matches.

  What’s wrong? My dragon asked me.

  “I’m cold,” I told Aaraeth.

  If dragons could smile, she’d be absolutely beaming. I could see her frolicking around like a child as I shivered now in the shade.

  You, humans, are so fragile. The temperature is always too cold or too hot, she said in her blunt tone.

  “I’ll be fine, Aaraeth! Don’t worry about me…” I told her sarcastically, as I searched the bag and came up with a flint fire starter. “Damnit,” I mumbled. “I guess it was too much to ask for a lighter.”

  I could use a flint starter. It just took more work because it only produced sparks and not an actual flame, meaning I’d not only need to gather sticks, but I’d also need to make a bundle of fine, dry fluff to catch the spark.

  Moving around to gather my supplies actually helped alleviate the stiffness and served to wake me up.

  I scored a pile of cut and stacked firewood from across the dirt parking lot. Walking back and forth, I brought all of it to our little campsite. Sitting down cross-legged in front of the firepit, I began scraping curls off a block of wood to make a nest of fine kindling. When I had enough wood fibers, I started grinding the flint. Sparks leaped from the tool into my tinder, but I had to baby it to get it to light. Holding the bundle up to my mouth, I blew gently until it erupted in flame. Quickly, I set the lit tinder into the pit and began feeding it with sticks.

  “You were always good at all this outdoors stuff,” George told me, having gotten up while I’d been busy.

  “Well, I learned from the best,” I told him, looking up to catch his gaze.

  “By best, you mean everyone else,” he teased.

  I fed the fire more sticks until it was large enough for me to add a thick piece of split wood. George just stood there, watching me or the fire. I wasn’t sure which.

  With the fire well started, I warmed my hands before looking up at George again.

  “How are you… really?” I asked.

  “I’ll be right as rain in no time now that I’ve got my girl back,” he said, warming himself across from me. I’d have to tell him that I wasn’t going with him, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it now.

  Standing, I began rummaging through the bag in search of the MREs that Corbin mentioned.

  “Are you hungry?” I asked.

  George came to stand beside me, looking into the pack before fishing out a black and red package. “These are twenty-four-hour Norwegian MREs. They’ll be pretty good.”

  “Arctic Field Ration,” I read on the label. “And you’ll be having… Game Casserole. Huh, sounds…”

  “Sounds wonderful,” he told me as he made his way to the picnic table and sat down facing me. He fumbled with the heavy-duty plastic on the bag. “Help an old man out, will you?”

  I turned back to see the kit fly into the dirt.

  Walking over to George, I wrapped one of our sleeping bags around him and held out another meal. “I’ve got it, hold on,” I said, picking the kit up. Squatting, I carefully pulled the edge apart so George could access the smaller packets inside.

  By the time I fished out my own meal from Corbin’s duffel, George had the main food pouch open.

  “Looks like cat food,” he said. “We’ll need some water if you can find it.”

  I frowned, “I was thinking the same thing. I saw water when we were flying in. I’ll be back in a few.”

  Everything felt almost surreal in my low-sleep state, and when I found myself at the creek, I didn’t remember walking there. Filling the pot from the fastest part of the stream, I carried it back to camp.

  Setting the pot in the fire, I looked over at George. He smiled as he ate a granola bar.

  “This almost feels like old times, doesn’t it?” he said, smiling as he tore off a piece of oats before popping it into his mouth.

  I sighed and stirred the logs to surround the pot on two sides.

  “I’m still mad at you,” I said, not meeting his eye. Because if I met his gaze, I’d lose my courage. “You said that information was power, yet you left me in the dark—defenseless and vulnerable.” But, when he stayed quiet, my anger reared up, and I stood, staring at him. “Well? Aren’t you going to say anything?”

  He shook his head, and in a defeated tone, breathed, “No. There’s no excuse for what I’ve done.”

  “No. That’s not good enough. I want an explanation from you.” My lip trembled, but my voice was steady. “I want to hear what happened. My mom, Evgeni… everything.”

  “The pot’s boiling,” he said, motioning with a shaky finger.

  I used an extra pair of socks from the duffel as oven mitts to carry the pot over to him. “Hold out your packet,” I said in a stern voice.

  He set it against one of the logs for me to fill. I poured water into the packet before adding it to my own oat mixture.

  Once I set the pot down, I stared at George. “Talk. Seriously. I’ve gone through a lot of shit because of you.”

  He mixed the goop inside his foil packet without looking at me.

  If he wasn’t going to talk, then I would. “I’m sick and tired of feeling like a stranger in my own life. I’m an outsider in my own family. And at this point, I’m about ready to sell you out unless you come clean because no matter how much I love you, you have nearly destroyed me.”

  I sucked in several calming breaths to keep from getting too emotional.

  Looking at the oats and little flakes of dried fruit in my packet, my stomach growled, but I was almost too disgusted to eat because of George.

  Just when I thought he was going to ignore me, he asked in a broken voice, “Where do you want me to start?”

  I gazed up at him, surprised and hopeful. “Ummm… how did you and my mom meet?”

  “We met at Stanford University. We were both studying physics and realized that we were both Dragonborn. She hid the fact that she was a Prime a lot like you do—so I didn’t know what she was until I met Aevnass, her dragon.” He smiled at the memory.

  “Was she with Evgeni?” I asked, stirring my oat mixture.

  He nodded, “They lived together. He wasn’t too keen on her going against the ancient laws…”

  I cut him off, “What are the ancient laws?”

  “Ehh… they’re a set of Dragonborn rules—sort of like the Ten Commandments. No one is really sure where they came from or why we have them, but people like your grandparents are determined to follow them no matter what—no matter the consequences. No matter if they’re outdated or cause more harm than good.” He held out a hand to stop me from asking another question as he scratched his dirty beard in thought. “I know what you’re going to ask. You’re going to ask what they are. They are separated into two categories: The Sacred and the Cursed.

  “Sacred things are things that the Dragonborn are not allowed to intervene in.” He gazed off in the distance in thought as he counted them off on his fingers. “Dragon bonds—meaning the bond between Aesyre and drag
on, or a Tetrad—which is a bond between two dragons and two people—which is what you and the Harrow Prime have.”

  “What’s an Aesyre?” I asked.

  He narrowed his eyes and gave me a mischievous smile. “It’s the same as Dragonborn, but only the older generations use it. It’s what we’ve called ourselves for centuries, maybe even millennia. There have been other names as well, but Aesyre was the first. Does it sound familiar?”

  “Should it?” I finished my breakfast, scraping the packet to get the last bit left in the crease.

  “Think Norse Mythology,” George suggested.

  “You mean the Aesir? The Norse Gods?” I looked up to meet his eye.

  “Interesting, huh?”

  I smiled sardonically, “What are you implying?”

  “I’m implying what both Celine and I thought—that the Dragonborn or Aesyre are aliens here on earth. That we came from the dragon realm thousands of years ago. Maybe humans are just the Aesyre that couldn’t form a bond with a dragon or wouldn’t. Doesn’t it make sense that mundanes would think us Dragonborn were Gods if they didn’t know how we did what we could do?”

  I groaned. “Hold up, here. This is all hypothetical, right? Let’s rewind and go back to the facts. You were talking about the ancient laws.”

  He nodded, and I could tell he was changing gears in his head. “Yes, the sacred, and the cursed. Sacred laws cover bonds, rituals, ceremonies, and humans… I can think of more, but those are the main ones.”

  “Humans are considered sacred? As in non-Dragonborn?” I clarified, slightly puzzled by that one.

  “Yes. Anything sacred is to be left as it is, unaltered.”

  I frowned. “So, what about the Stygian Ritual—taking away someone’s dragon? That sounds like messing with a sacred bond thingy to me.”

  He sighed and shrugged, “Most countries have a law about murder, yet they justify state instituted murder, the death penalty.”

  I chewed my lip, “Okay… so there are loopholes. What are the cursed?”

  “The cursed are things that the Dragonborn believe will mark your soul and leave a curse on your bloodline. Most of them are more common mundane-type forbidden things like murder, rape, theft. I don’t know.” He wrinkled his brow as he met my eye. “I’m sure I’m forgetting something. Some of them are really strange and don’t make sense in modern times. Like using water directly from the earth, which is why the Dragonborn are so fond of caves and natural springs.”

  I walked over to collect his trash before flattening everything and placing a rock on top.

  Taking a stick, I pushed a spider away from my foot as George’s words replayed in my mind.

  “You’re too quiet. What’s going on in that head of yours?” he asked.

  I chewed my bottom lip before letting it slide through my teeth to answer. “I just… this was like a huge thing. I’ve never even really heard of the Ancient Laws, let alone been told what they are or seen them in action. You’d think something this important would be like on a statue or engraved in tablets or something.”

  “It is, it’s in the stained glass in the Main Hall at Balaur Academy… Well, maybe not everything, but I remember the sacred being depicted in the artwork,” he told me, wrinkling his forehead.

  “Do you get why I’m so angry at you? This is just another reminder of these huge pieces of my personal puzzle that I’m missing.” I met his eye. “You took that away from me.”

  He shook his head. “I protected you… Celine… she didn’t want this life for you…”

  “No, George, being a Prime was my destiny. I don’t know how either of you thought you could stop it from happening,” I spat.

  He frowned and shook his head as he gazed at the ground between his feet. “The older you got, the more I thought that I’d saved you from them…”

  I stood and paced, blowing out the sigh I held in. “I feel like you don’t get it. Like you’re still trying to justify what you did even though you apologized.”

  “You’re right. I told you that already. If I’d known what would happen, I would’ve hidden you better, moved more often, stayed away from larger cities…”

  I shook my head, frustrated.

  That’s not what I wanted to hear. I wanted him to tell me that he regretted keeping me in the dark, that he should’ve taught me about the Dragonborn at the least, and helped me get the ritual at the right time. Instead, he just dug his heels in deeper—apologizing without really being sorry.

  19

  Ashe

  "Come on, Evgeni, call!" I mumbled. The sun began to rise as I smoothed my hair back, rereading the text I sent him hours ago. It was still marked as unread.

  Me: It's done. The baggage is en route.

  I walked back and forth across the Northeast Lookout, pacing as I waited for instructions, but the phone was silent. I rechecked the screen—there was nothing.

  Squatting, I closed my eyes and began making a mental list.

  Find Taya. Check on her and check to make sure no one noticed that Syd was gone. Maybe Taya could babysit the phone while I tried to sleep for a bit.

  Eondian! I cried out, but the beast barely registered my summons. I needed to get my shit together. I was breaking down, and the lack of sleep would only make everything harder.

  What else did I need to do? Shower. Sleep.

  Standing, I propped the phone on the ledge before pulling open the hatch. Checking my watch, I knew Taya wouldn't be up yet but I had to get to her before she realized Sydney had been gone all night.

  Hurrying down toward the PL's quarters, I hesitated around the bend and reached out to Taya's red wyvern. Diata? Diata? Wake Taya and tell her to dress and meet me outside and down the main tunnel.

  The beast listened, but hesitated.

  Wake her up, I told the wyvern, pushing her with a bit of compulsion in my words.

  A few minutes later, the guard rounded the bend. Her mouth pressed into a line of irritation and concern.

  "Where's Sydney?” she snapped, eyeing me. "Gah! And what the hell happened to you? You look like shit."

  I looked down at my muck covered clothes from the rescue. "Sydney's fine. But I need your help."

  She grunted.

  "I’m listening." Narrowed her eyes at me, she said, "You feel weird. Why are you shielding your mind so heavily?"

  I blinked a long blink. "I promise, I'll explain everything later. But for now, I've had a crazy night, and I need some serious sleep. But I'm waiting for a call or text on the Northeast Lookout. I left my phone up there. Will you go sit with it and let me know if someone texts or calls?"

  She turned to go back to the PL's quarters, so I called out, "I thought you were going to help?"

  She kept walking, "I am, but I'm getting something to read, some snacks, and a freaking coat… it'll be freezing up there." Turning back toward me, she waved me away. "Go, sleep, and for the sake of the ancestors, shower… but I expect an explanation. A good explanation!"

  I wasted no time booking it to my quarters. Loud snoring came from Matt and Nate's side as I snuck inside and collapsed on top of my bed.

  Waking, I checked my watch to see that several hours had passed. Collecting fresh clothing, I headed to the baths. It was late—almost second meal, and the halls were nearly as desolate as they'd been last night.

  The brisk walk cleared the sleep from my head. Turning into the men’s bath I found it empty. I was thankful for the solitude and hopped into the cold pool. I dunked my head under the water before scrubbing myself clean.

  Getting out, I dried myself and dressed in civilian clothes. My mind was clear, and I was ready to get back up to the Northeast Lookout to take Taya's place. I cringed a bit, knowing I'd slept a lot later than I thought I would.

  Starting from the baths, which were one of the lowest levels, I began jogging through the central hall. I ran past the dining hall filled with laughter and chatter before continuing upward through the residential tunnel. I thought of Sydney's com
parison of these spiraling tubes. They did look like ramps from an underground parking garage.

  I needed to stop at the PL's quarters just in case Taya got sick of waiting and went back there. Running up around the last bend, I slowed down just as Durand and Claudine came into view. They stood outside the front door speaking in low tones.

  I watched Durand bark out orders to Claudine, the Key Keeper, before dismissing her.

  I decided to pass by, but Durand called out to me, "Ashe? Come here… Have you seen Sydney or Taya?"

  Fear gnawed at me, but I pushed it away. Durand was the last person I should be talking to right now.

  "Yeah, I saw them both this morning. Why?" Technically, this was true.

  He gazed at me with concern before tilting his head and admitting, "George has escaped somehow. Have you seen or heard anything out of the ordinary?"

  I looked him in the eye, not answering his question, and asked, "Who's on duty?"

  He blew out a breath. "Ed."

  I turned to leave, but Durand stopped me again with his hand on my arm.

  "I've got to go, I've got plans, but I'll keep an eye out," I told him.

  "Sure, sure," he said. "But, if you see Corbin, will you tell him I'm looking for him? I want him to double-check the surveillance video to see if it's been tampered with."

  I nodded. "Yeah, I'll drop by his quarters.”

  The guy squeezed my shoulder, "You seem uptight today, you okay? Yesterday was tough, but it'll all be sorted out soon enough. No one blames either of you for the mating. However, Evgeni Garin is on his way to meet with the Council about it."

  I frowned.

  "Yeah," he said, sucking in a breath as he looked past me at people walking up from second meal. "Sydney told George that she'd help him escape. Do you think she has anything to do with all this?"

  I raised my eyebrows and laughed. "You've got to be kidding me. Sydney? I guarantee that Sydney did not free George."

  Opening up my mind, I allowed him to see the truth of my words.

  "Well, don't underestimate her." His words made me cringe.