A Crown of Dragons

by Chris D'Lacey

  “Very soon, you will be going in search of your father. Nothing else will matter after that.”

  Dennis ran a hand through his thick black hair. “Will one of you please tell me what is going on?”

  Klimt turned to him and said, “If you wish to be a friend to Michael and his family, you will do exactly as I say. You will forget what you have seen and ask Michael nothing about his work. You will not speak of these events to anyone. If you break this trust, you will never see Adam Mulrooney again.”

  “You harm Adam and I’ll —”

  “Mulrooney is in no danger,” said Klimt, “but you are. Good night, gentlemen. I trust you will have a safe journey home.”

  And with that, he was gone.

  “Tell me this isn’t happening?” said Dennis. He looked at the night sky and shook his head.

  I started walking. “It’s your fault. You should have stayed away. Come on, we have to do what he says.”

  He grabbed my arm. “One question.”

  “No. You heard him. You can’t ask me anything. He’s serious, Dennis. They’ll kill you if you get involved.”

  “One,” he insisted. “Is your father alive?”

  I nodded silently.

  That seemed to trouble him more than the idea of getting killed. He gritted his teeth and stared at the field. “Okay, what the heck. Let’s go.”

  Amazingly, Mom bought every word. When we got home, Dennis convinced her he was simply being a Good Samaritan. He stayed no more than a couple of minutes, refusing his usual mug of tea.

  “Are you okay?” Mom asked him. “You look a little fraught.”

  “I’m fine,” he said. “Do you mind if I pop into the bathroom before I leave? No need to show me. Think I know where it is by now. Is this Thomas, by the way?” He picked up an old family photograph and studied it.

  “Yes,” said Mom.

  “Handsome fellow. I see where Michael gets his looks.”

  He smiled, closed the front room door, and was gone.

  Was it me or was he acting just a little bit weird?

  It didn’t seem to bother Mom much. She was still wrapped up in her concerns about Harvey. “Goodness, I feel like a whirlwind’s hit us. I hope Harvey’s okay. What a peculiar turn of events.”

  Huh. Tell me about it.

  She sank down on the edge of the sofa. “I can’t quite believe he hasn’t been in touch.”

  “You never asked him for his number,” I blurted.

  “No, I suppose — How did you know we hadn’t swapped numbers?”

  My brain froze for a moment. Yes. How did I know? The sentence had just popped out without my thinking. I shrugged. “Wild guess, I suppose. It’s what people do when they date, isn’t it?”

  “We aren’t dating,” she said. “I like Harvey, but we’re a long way from … well, we’re a long way from anything, really.”

  “What about him?” I heard myself saying. The words were stinging, almost envious.

  Mom reacted accordingly. “Him? Who, Dennis?”

  Yes, Dennis, my thoughts said. “He left a bit quickly. Maybe he’s lost interest in you.”

  “I think you’d better go to bed,” she said, frowning. “And be quiet, Josie’s asleep.”

  Go, said my mind. And I turned away with military crispness and left Mom staring into space.

  On the landing, I did something I rarely did. I paused at Josie’s room, pushed the door wide, and looked in. She was snoring as softly as a kitten.

  Shall we wake her? said my thoughts.

  Wake her? I stepped back from the door, holding my head. What was wrong with me?

  Bathroom, said my thoughts. Need to go.

  And I headed there and switched on the light. I ran the cold tap and splashed my face.

  Won’t help, said my head, as if my mind was laughing at me.

  I gripped the sides of the basin. What the heck was going on? I hadn’t felt right since the shooting on the terrace. Since … I panted and looked up into the mirror.

  And there reflected back at me was the face of Jacob Hartland.

  I jumped back as if he’d punched me hard on the chin, falling so far that I landed inside the shower stall. I reached out for something to hold and pulled the showerhead off its clasp.

  Mom was at the bathroom in seconds.

  “Michael, are you okay? What on earth’s going on?”

  I picked myself up from the stall floor. “F-fell …” I muttered.

  “Fell? How?” She stepped in and replaced the showerhead.

  “It was him. He’s still alive. He’s …” I covered my eyes. “He’s in my head.”

  “Who is? What are you talking about?”

  Tell her, said the voice.

  “Harvey,” I said. And it was his voice coming out of my mouth. His tone, his Midwest accent.

  That spooked her into silence.

  “Mom-mm, what’s happening?” Josie came along the landing, rubbing sleep from her eyes. “Oh, it’s you,” she said, when she caught sight of me.

  I looked straight into her eyes and said, “Go back to bed. In the morning, you will remember nothing of this.”

  Josie froze as if an alien beam had trapped her. Mom gaped at me, then turned to see Josie retracing her steps along the landing. “Josie?” she said, her voice loaded with confusion. “Michael, what is —?”

  “You need to tell them,” I heard myself saying, but it was Harvey controlling my words, my movements, my glamouring gaze.

  “Look, I’m getting tired of this,” Mom said crossly.

  Harvey increased the persuasive tone. “You need to tell them,” he repeated.

  “Tell who?”

  “The doctor … the German.” He was going through my head for information, like a burglar rifling a chest of drawers.

  “Dr. K,” Mom said, beginning to weaken.

  “Yes. Dr. K. Dr. Klimt.” Harvey raised my hand and made me push a curl of hair out of her eyes. “I’m not well, Mom,” he made me say, letting me revert to my own voice. “You need to tell them I’m confused, upset about Freya. I need to go back to the clinic. Tomorrow.”

  He brought an image of it into my mind, the room they’d put me in, the single bed, the color of the window blinds, the fishing boat picture that hung on the wall. All there, in an instant, as if he’d opened a cabinet and flipped out a file.

  Mom said, “Yes. I’ll …” She blinked and stared right through me. Her eyes were so big and green and trusting. Deep inside my head, I was screaming at her not to listen.

  But he made me say, “Call them. You need to call them. Tomorrow. You’ll do that, won’t you, Mom?”

  “Yes,” she said. “I’ll call. Tomorrow.”

  “Thanks. I’m going to bed now. Night.”

  And I kissed her cheek and walked out of the room.

  In the study, Harvey started to explain the rules.

  “What have you done?” I hissed aloud when he gave me back some control of my voice. I immediately tried to scream for Mom, but he locked my mouth in the open position and gagged the muscles of my throat to stop me from breathing. I dropped onto the air bed, fearful he would kill me.

  I can, he said, anytime I want to. I can terminate you and jump to another host at will. But that would be such a terrible waste when together you and I can achieve so much. When I have the scale, the secrets of the universe will be laid before me. I’m giving you the opportunity to share an unbelievable destiny, Michael, and all you’re doing is fighting me. Now, for the last time, do you want to live? I mean really LIVE?

  I nodded as best I could.

  He released me slowly. Then no more attempts to resist. I will be in control from now on. You’ll find me a tolerant master — as long as you continue to comply, of course. Please don’t imagine you can hide things from me. Your thoughts, intentions, and secrets are all mine. I will know, for instance, if you plan to attempt a reality shift. I should warn you, it would be foolish to. Due to the current balance of our “union,�
� I alone command that power. Try it and you’ll be scattered like dust in the cosmos. And how would that serve the quest to find your father?

  “Are you … is Hartland … dead?” I whispered, working the soreness out of my throat.

  Physically, yes. The body you saw on the ground is a shell. But his — my consciousness is alive in you.

  “Are we … one person?”

  I felt him grunt. You will be Michael when you need to be Michael: a naïve boy — with an override function. Think of me as air traffic control.

  “How did you do it? How did you make the jump? You told me it was hard, even for dragons.”

  I have you to thank for it, he said. Even in thought waves, he managed to sound smug. Your highly emotional state in the soccer stadium, coupled with the certainty you needed to generate in order to make the shifts happen by choice, opened a quantum gateway in your mind. All I did was slip through.

  The sudden shock of breathlessness I’d felt.

  Yes, that was me, “shutting the gate.” You created the perfect conditions for transference. It’s almost tempting to believe you sucked me in. In truth, I hadn’t planned it like this. I rather liked my old body. Your mother and I would have been a good match.

  “You leave Mom alone. If you make me do anything —”

  Ah-ah, remember who pushes the pain buttons now.

  He made me dig my nails into my palm.

  “Ow! All right! Stop it!”

  That was a gentle reminder, Michael. I can cause you a great deal more discomfort than that. Have no qualms about your mother. She would have been a charming distraction, but not enough to divert me from my quest.

  “What are you going to do?”

  Nothing. Sit back. Wait for your android to call. Now that our little deceit is in play, all we have to do is wait for Klimt to take us into the UNICORNE facility, where they’ll run their experiment and connect us to the scale. It couldn’t be simpler. He’s quite an enigma, isn’t he, Klimt? A machine given consciousness by your father, though by what means we still don’t know. This is exciting, Michael. There’s so much to uncover. If I were in your shoes, which technically I am, I would consider it a minor wonder if I slept tonight.

  “What happens, when we sleep?”

  He made me emit a chuckle of laughter. He had a laugh like a donkey sucking on helium. I’d hated it every single time I’d heard it.

  This is around-the-clock service. You sleep, I explore.

  “Explore?” I didn’t like the sound of that.

  All those mysteries swirling in your head. All those question marks about your father. I will sift the facts and make sense of it all. I will be your voice of truth.

  “You’re crazy.”

  You need to sleep, he said angrily, closing my eyes for me, keeping them closed. One of these days, you’ll learn to be grateful that I’ve given you this chance to experience greatness. Tomorrow, Klimt comes and the journey begins. Tomorrow, you and I become gods.

  The next morning, I woke on the air bed fully dressed. Cue another go-around from Mom. She knocked and put her head around the door just as I was coming out of the dozy phase.

  “Have you slept in those clothes all night?!”

  No, Mom, I decided to change out of my pajamas at two in the morning, just to annoy you. Why did parents always have to state the obvious?

  Harvey took control and I heard myself saying, “I’m sorry. I couldn’t get to sleep for ages. I was … frightened. Mom, there were crows at the soccer field last night.”

  Clever. He’d sifted my memories and was going to play the Freya card to its max.

  It worked. Mom softened a little. She looked me up and down and said, “All right. Go and shower. I said I’d call Dr. K, and I will. Why are you smirking? Michael, I hope you’re not trying to pull —?”

  “I need to see Klimt,” I said, in Harvey’s powerful glamouring tone. “Today. No more stalling.”

  “Yes, well …” She rocked a little. “I’ll … I’ll see what I can do.”

  And out she went.

  Job done, said Harvey. Now show me the film.

  “What?”

  I want to see the film of your father’s last shift. I found snatches of it in your memory pool. Show me the complete thing. Now.

  I looked across at the stack of albums.

  There’s no time to load a DVD, he said.

  “Hey, have they been moved?”

  What?

  “The albums.” They looked different. The spines were uneven.

  I said forget the DVD. The phone. It’s on your phone.

  He made me pull the phone from my pocket.

  I ran the clip.

  That’s it? Where’s the scale?

  “I don’t know.”

  How was Thomas connected to it?

  “I don’t know. Agh!” I felt a sudden, painful jabbing in my head.

  I told you, don’t play games with me, Michael. Last night I searched for the root of your powers and discovered what UNICORNE has done to you. You’re carrying dragon implants. One inside your knuckle joint, the other under the tattoo on your ankle.

  Two implants? “Agh!” He jabbed me again.

  You’ve also experienced the power of transformation and the thrill of flight. You didn’t think to TELL me this?

  “Harvey, stop it! Please.” I rolled onto my side as the pain in my head burned deeper. “I haven’t lied! You told me I couldn’t hide anything from you!”

  Then they’ve interfered. Tried to block out certain memories. But they left in the transformational incident. Interesting. Well, I envy you, Michael. At least now I understand your devotion to Freya. You’re more than a boy and his microdots of dragon scale; you have a hint of crow in you, too.

  “No, UNICORNE got rid of the crow.”

  Wrong. They suppressed it, but it’s still there. I could chase it down, but it might be of use to us. So my question remains: How was Thomas connected to the scale? If they used it in you, they must have tried something similar with him.

  “Hey, sleepyhead. I thought you were showering?” Mom knocked on the door and went on her way, barking orders to Josie.

  She’s right. We can muse on the way to the facility. Get showered.

  “With you looking through my eyes? No way.”

  Again, he ramped up the pain. I told you, you’ll be Michael when I need you to be Michael. You don’t want to stink for Mr. Klimt, do you?

  And he fired the necessary leg responses that launched me into the hall. I almost knocked Josie off her feet in the process.

  “Hey, watch where you’re going!”

  Ignore her. Harvey jerked me away.

  “You try ignoring her,” I said out loud.

  “What?” said Josie.

  He let me look back.

  “No more glamouring,” I hissed. “Leave her alone.”

  “What?” she said again, screwing up her nose.

  “Jose, just … go.”

  “You’re weird,” she muttered. She shouldered her way through the front room door. “Mom, Michael’s talking to himself. I think he’s got an imaginary friend. Probably ’cause no one else will have him.”

  “Shush, I’m on the phone,” I heard Mom reply.

  I made my way up the stairs. “You need to be careful with Josie. She’s not stupid.”

  By the end of the day, none of this will matter. All human life will be ours to command.

  “I’m not — agh!”

  This time, he went too far with the pain and I lost my footing and fell three steps.

  Mom and Josie were immediately in the hall.

  Mom pounded up the stairs and gripped my shoulders. “Michael? Are you okay? What happened?”

  “My head …”

  “Mom, what’s wrong with him?” No sibling angst in Josie now. She was just a genuinely concerned little sister.

  “Come on, downstairs, into the front room,” said Mom.

  She guided me there and sat me on the sofa.


  She took off my shoes. “Lie down, rest. You’re not going to school today. I just spoke to Dr. K. He’s sending a car for you. Once and for all, we’re going to figure this out.”

  Ah, well, forget the shower, said Harvey. What’s a little body odor between friends?

  The doorbell rang.

  “Oh, who’s that now?” Mom tutted. “It can’t be your car already.”

  “I’ll get it,” said Josie. She backed out into the hall.

  “You look pale,” Mom said. She smoothed my forehead.

  “Please don’t,” I whispered. I couldn’t bear the thought of her comforting Harvey.

  “Sorry, signed up for this thirteen years ago. Loving you is all part of the job.” She rested her hand on my cheek.

  From the hallway, Josie shouted, “Mom, it’s Dennis.”

  She sighed and said quietly, “Oh, Dennis, not now.”

  But he was in the room already. Jeans and sweater, not his usual work clothes. He had a tablet computer in his hands. He glanced anxiously at me. “Problem?”

  “Bad headache,” Mom said. “The doctor’s on his way. We weren’t expecting you this morning, were we?”

  “No.” He seemed hesitant. Fired up. Nervous. “Can I have a word with you, Darcy — in private?” He gestured to the kitchen.

  “If it’s about paying for the work … ?”

  “It’s not about the work,” Dennis said. His fingers drummed the back of the tablet. “I need to show you something.”

  All this time he’d had his eyes on me. But as Mom stood up, I saw him check the picture of Dad again, and suddenly I knew why the albums were untidy. He knew I’d been stalling when he’d asked to look through them that time. It didn’t take a massive leap of intelligence to figure out I’d been hiding something there — like the DVD, for instance.

  “Can I see?” said Josie, following them into the kitchen.

  I heard Mom say, “What part of private don’t you understand?”

  But by then, the movie must have been running. I heard Josie stifle a gasp and knew she was looking at Dad in that chair, reliving another life.

  For whatever reason, Dennis was exposing my family to the truth.