by Ann Gimpel
“Be sure and dig down to the bottom of the pile,” I told her. “Less chance of anyone recognizing we are wearing items stolen from their stores.”
She shot me an annoyed look that seemed to ask how I’d put up with the suspicious fools humans were all those years. It hadn’t been easy, but not for the reasons she thought.
I asked my beast for help warding his bulk. Soon, we settled smoothly on pockmarked ice fields at the base of a complicated series of cliffs. In the process, we startled a large group of fur seals. Determined to stand their ground, they barked up a storm and only moved a meter or two away. Snarling, they bared their teeth, reminding me they just looked fluffy and benign. Seals could be real bastards if you got on their wrong side.
The air glistened with expended magic as we traded our dragon bodies for our human ones. The seals yipped and scattered. Perhaps magic had accomplished what the dragons couldn’t and scared the crap out of them.
“I will return as quickly as I can,” Katya said and vanished before my eyes. If I blinked hard and looked from a different angle, I could see her loping toward the motley collection of brightly colored buildings that comprised Arctowski Station. Looking like railroad boxcars, the buildings were all prefabs that had been dropped here by cargo ships and assembled onsite.
Arctowski was comfortable, though. And they always had a pot of tea strong enough to chase the cobwebs away bubbling on the hob. The seals had gotten over their apprehension and waddled closer, curious as hell about us.
A large male barked.
Fire streamed from Erin’s mouth, and he jumped back. She shook her head. “My dragon thought he got too close.”
“They will not harm us unless they perceive us as a threat,” I said. “Mostly, that one”—I pointed at the bull seal who was probably leader of this pod—“wants to make certain we aren’t competition for food.”
“So long as he’s not seeing us as food, I’m good.” Erin laughed. “What are we going to tell them after we go inside? Assuming any of the ship’s personnel are there too.”
“I have been thinking that through.” It was cold, so I pulled warmth from the earth upward until it surrounded me. That done, I sank into a crouch.
“What did you come up with?” She hunkered next to me and wrapped her arms around her legs. “I figured we could tell them the Darya had been boarded and we escaped, but then they’ll insist we remain here. At least until they can see us safely aboard a ship or a plane.”
The same thought had occurred to me. “It is not a problem. Not really. We smile and make nice and once everyone goes to bed, we simply head back here, shift, and leave.”
“They post twenty-four-hour sentries,” Erin reminded me. “Just like on the Darya.”
“It does not matter, Erin. It is unlikely we will ever be here again. We will ward ourselves until we are out of visual range.”
She pinched her nose between her thumb and index finger. “Does that bother you?”
Her question was so open-ended, I had a hard time dissecting it. “Does what bother me?”
“That our time among our own kind is over?”
I patted her thigh. “They are no longer like us.”
“No. I guess not, but part of me still sees myself as human. A big part. How could I not? It’s the way I deciphered the world for almost forty years.” Ash and smoke-tinged fire billowed from her mouth.
She spit out bits of black and said, “Sorry. This has nothing to do with how I feel about you.”
I assumed she was talking with her dragon, trying to soften her statement about not having totally transitioned from human to magical being. Interestingly enough, my beast wasn’t kicking up a fuss about anything. But then, him nearly getting both of us killed had shaved the crusty edges off his temper.
“Are you considering remaining here?” I asked her.
Her eyes widened. “Oh hell, no. Nothing has changed. The sea-serpent problem hasn’t gone away. Besides, there’d be hell to pay if you vanished and I remained. Everyone would pester the crap out of me to see if I knew what happened to you. When that turned out to be a dry hole, they’d figure you fell into a crevasse, and they’d waste untold hours searching for you with the dogs.”
She offered a crooked smile. “I can miss something without necessarily wanting to return to it.”
I sensed Katya before I saw her. Dressed in black polar bibs and a red jacket, she looked jaunty and as if she’d been here forever. I hadn’t quite figured out how to explain who she was. Maybe one of the researchers aboard the Darya who never left their workstations. We’d actually had a few like that.
“Do you want us to use your real name when we go back to the station?” I asked.
“Easier that way,” she replied and dropped a bundle of clothing next to Erin and me. We dressed quickly. The boots she’d grabbed for me were painfully small, but I could manage for the short while it would take to deliver our message. Besides, they didn’t allow boots inside the station. There was a mud room with cubbies for everyone’s outdoor footwear. It cut down on the possibility of stray microbes that had been trapped in ice for millennia getting tracked inside.
“I like you better naked.” Katya winked at me.
I walked to her and gave her a quick hug. “The feeling is mutual.”
“Let’s get this over with, then,” she said. “We can leave the boots and apparel here before we depart. That way, someone is bound to stumble over them.”
“Not a good idea.” Erin glanced her way. “Someone will remember we were wearing these garments. They’ll suspect foul play and turn the world upside down. It will be a tremendous waste of time and resources.”
“Guess I’ll have to live with my guilt.” Katya grinned. “Dragons don’t make a practice of stealing—unless it’s gold and gems. Ready?”
“Yup.” Erin started walking downhill toward the bright yellow-orange line of prefabs.
Katya caught up with her. I walked behind, wincing as my toes hit the front of my boots. Katya had the foresight to grab socks, so they cushioned things a little even though they made the boots even tighter.
“Are we visiting your flight?” my bondmate asked quietly.
“Not exactly. I am acquainted with many people who live here, but they are nothing like a dragon flight.”
“How are they different?”
I struggled to find a short answer. Long ago, human groups had displayed the type of loyalty to one another common to dragon flights, but the advent of the electronic age had created a society of loners.
I knew it all too well because I was one. Or had been.
“We will speak of this at length later,” I told my beast, touched by his interest in something definitely undragonlike. “No smoke, fire, or ash,” I added.
“Steam?”
“No. Nothing.”
“It’s a good reminder,” Katya said, followed by, “Erin, make sure your bondmate doesn’t get frisky.”
“Already covered that ground.” Erin turned a sunny smile Katya’s way.
We were perhaps half a kilometer from the base when, “Hallo, Wer bist du?” floated up the hill. The German carried a strong Eastern European accent.
“Johan Petris, Erin Ryan, and Katya Romanova,” I called back. I’d had to make up a last name for Katya on the spur of the moment, and I hoped she approved of my choice.
Two figures took off toward us, running hard. Soon they were close enough for me to recognize Tomek and Kryzs, the de facto base managers. Both men were of medium height, but Tomek had Nordic coloring with wheat-colored hair and blue eyes. He was slightly built compared to Kryzs, who was put together like a tank. Black hair fell to Kryzs’s shoulders, and his dark eyes were crinkled with pleasure at the corners.
“I am so glad to see you,” he gasped in English, out of breath from his sprint uphill.
“Me as well,” Tomek said. “We heard about the Darya. But we were told no one survived. Where have you been?”
“Officials
from the Antarctic Treaty Organization are here,” Kryzs said. “They will be most interested to hear the story from two survivors. Russia, of course, denies all knowledge.”
“It was a Russian coup, was it not?” Tomek cut in.
“Yes. Russian. May we go inside?” Johan asked.
“Inside would be welcome,” Erin spoke up.
“Da. Inside, please.” Katya aped a Russian accent handily.
Kryzs clapped Johan across the back. “Of course. Where are my manners. You must be exhausted. Freezing. I fear summer has departed these latitudes, though I will be damned if I can figure out why.”
“That ship is in serious trouble.” Tomek pointed at the cruise ship. “They are not equipped to deal with ice, and they limped in here. We are trying to talk them into waiting for a plane to ferry their passengers to Ushuaia.”
“Why trying?” Erin said. “A plane is the only option that makes sense. We saw so much ice getting here. Places the ocean is frozen over and we walked on it.”
“Excellent timing on several fronts,” Kryzs said. “You can speak with the officials and the ship’s captain. Hang on.” He pulled a two-way radio from a vest pocket and fired off instructions in Polish.
Johan had no trouble following. He was telling whoever was talking with the captain that visitors with up-to-the-minute oceanic reports had arrived. The five of them walked slowly toward the research installation.
“Why has the captain or navigator not confirmed sea conditions via weather satellite?” Johan asked.
“That is a problem,” Tomek said. “Satellite communications are down all through this region.”
“But that happens frequently,” Erin spoke up.
“Sure, but they always come back online. This time, it has been days,” Kryzs told her.
I tripped because of my too-tight boots. Tomek made a clucking noise, having interpreted my stumble as the result of exhaustion. “We will get all of you nice, hot tea and fresh biscuits.”
“Спасибо,” Katya said.
I thought she was laying it on a bit thick with all the Russian. “You know English,” I reminded her.
She patted my hand. “Thank you.”
We should all be on the same page with our story, so I mumbled, “Tea will be so welcome. We have had Hell’s own time. We were dumped at the chromium dig site and left for dead. After many tries, we climbed out of the mine and stole a Zodiac. That got us into the South Shetlands, but not easily. We encountered much ice; some we crossed on foot, dragging the raft.”
“We lost it, one pontoon at a time,” Erin helped me out. “Lucky for us, we made the far side of King George before the raft sank on us.”
“You are lucky to be alive,” Tomek said.
“We think so too.” Erin nodded solemnly.
“You can fly out of here on one of the planes that comes for the cruise ship’s passengers,” Kryzs said.
“It is a better bet than a ship,” Katya said. “I have never seen so much ice floating in the sea. Even in the winter months.”
We had reached the main door. I ducked into the familiar mud room and sat to lever off my boots. Everyone else did the same. Parkas came off and were slipped over hooks. The station was always too warm, but it was welcome.
I made my way to a chair. Tomek brought steaming mugs of black, bitter tea and a plate of biscuits. I shut my eyes, doing my best to look too exhausted to be grilled by IAATO officials. I’d told Kryzs and Tomek what happened. They could pass it on.
If things went well, they’d convince whoever ran the ship to abandon it here and fly everyone home. Maybe I wouldn’t have to do anything beyond what I’d already done.
“Humans are not forthcoming with one another.” My dragon sounded disappointed. “You were not honest with those two nice men.”
“Do you want to end up on an airplane heading for Argentina?”
“We’d just teleport back here.”
I selected another tactic. “Are dragons always completely honest with one another?”
Heat spread through my chest; I prepared to make a run for the outhouse if it got worse. “No smoke. No fire.”
My beast grumbled within me, but the scorching sensation retreated. I noticed he ignored my last question. I waited, but he didn’t ask any more of his own, either.
A tall, broad-shouldered man wearing a dark-blue ship’s uniform over a starched white shirt walked toward us. He was bald and had a squared-off jaw covered with black stubble. His brown eyes looked tired. “Sorry for taking any of your time, mate,” he began in a clipped British accent, “but I understand the sea ice is bad from all directions.”
I opened my eyes. “Do not apologize. From what we saw, ice is a serious problem all around the Palmer Peninsula. I would not wish to risk hundreds of passengers in the Drake. It is a difficult stretch of water under the best of conditions.”
He pulled a folding chair close and dropped into it. “Same conclusion I’m coming around to, old chap.” He shook his head. “We seafaring types are superstitious as all get-out. You’re the third person who has advised against traveling north. Three is a magic number. I will inform the captain, and we shall make alternative plans.”
“Already in process.” Tomek glided over from the next room, which was another boxcar attached to the one we sat in. He patted my shoulder. “You three will be on the first plane out of here. It should arrive in about two hours. No reason to make you wait while the ship empties 300 passengers.”
“Very kind of you.” Erin nodded her thanks.
“Indeed.” Katya offered half a smile.
“You will get your wish,” I told my dragon. “We will be teleporting back here.”
“Better than sneaking off like a thief in the night,” my beast retorted.
If I could, I’d have happily throttled him. Deep within me, dragon laughter warmed my heart.
Katya
Katya was deeply pleased. Despite not having thought through how they’d leave Arctowski—without creating havoc—the problem had solved itself. And the serpents would never get their claws into the ship since it might well sit in Admiralty Bay until satellite communications came back up.
She had a feeling the outpouring of magic was responsible for the failure of satellite transmissions, but she didn’t fully understand how the whole satellite thing worked. It would be a good question for her to ask Johan when they were well and truly alone.
Katya had never flown in an aircraft before. Why would she? She had wings of her own and the ability to travel to other worlds. Something this airplane could never manage. It was interesting, though, this metal tube that took to the skies with its noisy engines. Her dragon thought it was hilarious.
“I’m here if it crashes,” she commented sotto voce.
“You’d better be here before,” Katya shot right back. “Less messy.”
The three of them were crammed into tiny chairs in the plane. A long, thin affair, it boasted twin seats on both sides of a narrow aisle. She and Johan sat on one side. Erin was directly across from her. A weary-looking man with short black hair and a red polar suit sat next to Erin. He’d closed his eyes as soon as he fell into his seat. He didn’t appear at all well. His complexion held a pasty aspect, and dark circles carved beneath his eyes. Maybe he was just exhausted from his time aboard a struggling ship.
The plane had filled quickly, and they’d been airborne shortly thereafter. She supposed the pilot was in a hurry. He’d have to make at least three trips, perhaps four, to ferry all the ship’s passengers and crew to Ushuaia. She’d asked how long the flight would be and been told two to two-and-a-half hours depending on wind conditions.
She assumed Ushuaia was a decent-sized city. She’d never been there, but losing themselves in an urban environment so they could quietly teleport back to Konstantin and the others shouldn’t be all that hard. They obviously didn’t have travel documents—passports—but both Johan and Erin had reassured a few folk back at Arctowski that they’d sto
p at their respective consulates as soon as they landed in Argentina. Katya just smiled and nodded. She had a paper with an official-looking stamp that should be enough to get her out of the airport.
In actuality, this whole playacting was ridiculous. She could cast an invisibility spell and spirit the three of them out of the airplane. It might leave a lot of jaws hanging open, but it wasn’t as if anyone had the wherewithal to follow them.
Johan gripped her hand, pulling her wandering thoughts back to him. “For once, fortune smiled on us, eh?”
She nodded indulgently. “It would seem so, yes.” She switched to mind speech. “That officer from the ship did not give us any pushback at all.”
“Not only that…” Johan stopped and frowned. “No one to hear if I botch the, um, other type of talking, so I shall give it a whirl.”
“May as well,” she agreed, sticking with telepathy to encourage him.
“I was concerned I would have to fill out one of those interminable governmental reporting forms,” he went on. “That we all would.”
Katya winced.
“Was my telepathy attempt as bad as all that?” He drew his brows together into a thick, dark line.
“’Fraid so. If anyone else on this craft has any magic at all, they’ll have heard you.”
“What am I doing wrong?”
She thought about it. “Try a lot less fire, more air, and a little water.”
“Too bad this is not a one-size-fits-all proposition. What works for you does not work the same way for me when I try to accomplish the same thing.”
“That was better!” She jumped in with instant feedback—before he forgot precisely what he’d done.
He scrunched his eyes into slits as if he were concentrating. “It almost seems like we had it too easy at Arctowski. No grilling by an IAATO agent. The ship’s officer barely asked us anything.”
“You don’t trust the fortune you were crowing over?”
He shook his head. “Not only that, I have begun to see magical boogie-men behind every bush.”