Angel In Yellow (2 page)

Now in a circular formation, the dragons streaked outwards towards the fire. The crystals pulsed, shards of light exploding, joining together to form a massive blanket of light that spread above the homestead, then folded down, flaring outwards, encasing all within a hundred metre radius. As the protective bubble shimmered and sparked, Ben’s ears hummed. Nearby someone was singing. He looked around. Who the hell was singing at a time like this? And what was that song? As he concentrated, his body thrummed, his heart raced, his blood becoming a torrent sweeping through his veins. Around him, power crackled, like the moment before a storm.

The lion, tiger and several cats stood side by side, snouts raised, tails bristled. A wolf, a greyhound, and a fox joined the assembly, adding their voices to the song.

Flames roared towards the homestead. Ben stood his ground, flinching as the fire slammed against the bubble, spreading over it. The song intensified. He watched as minute by minute the fire retreated.
What the hell.
..?

A woman’s voice behind him made him turn. She stood, arms raised, in the centre of a circle, within it a six pointed star drawn on the lawn. At each point another of those crystals glowed and each shot a beam of rainbow light upwards to the crystals the dragons and the riders held.

The cadence of the song grew harsh. Commanding. As if in response, the flames reared backwards, toppling, imploding. A tsunami of flames slammed against the bubble. The song deepened with more voices, the rhythm and texture becoming almost painful. Ben put his hands over his ears. And then he saw. It shocked, made no sense...

Flames fell, twisting, retreating. Fire extinguishing fire. The sky, once brilliant azure was now black and roiling. Thunder rumbled. Lightning flashed. Oh great, just what the fire crews needed—lightning strikes bringing more fires to the tinder dry scrub.

Thick droplets of rain fell, the speed and weight increasing with every second until it was a deluge. Ben could hardly see through the wall of rain, where moments before a wall of fire had raged. He heard the fire hissing in final defiance, before it was defeated. The smell of acrid smoke hung like a pall over the homestead. Animals cried and again were comforted by their human companions.

Half an hour later the dragons overhead dispersed, and with it the cocooning rainbow. Ben saw the surrounding countryside in all directions was black, and now under a few centimetres of water. Fire and flood—in the space of an hour.

The dragons landed on the lawn, heads drooping with fatigue. The riders leapt off and helped others to lift buckets of water to the dragons. Ben’s dragon, the one who had carried him to safety, was alone, head dipped into a bucket, sides heaving as he drank. The now empty bucket rolled away. Ben raced forward and re-filled the bucket from the nearby tank.

Without thought, he held the bucket as the creature drained it dry. Then, with a sigh it settled on its haunches, green eyes glowing.
Thank you.

“You’re welcome.” Ben started, dropping the bucket. “Say what?”

Thank you.

“Did you just speak?”

Yes.

“But how the hell can you? You’re just...” He shut his mouth. He was having a conversation with a dragon. It wasn’t happening.

A red dragon joined his companion, black eyes sparking crimson. Its lethal talons were raised. Ben flinched. Was he going to be gutted? He tensed. The dragon lowered its face so that Ben could meet him eye to eye.

You think because I am a beast I cannot speak? That an animal is incapable of sentience? I have a name. It is Jarran.

In response to Jarran, Ben heard his dragon snap, hiss. He watched its talons flexing, tail swishing from side to side.

Be silent, Jarran. When others left animals to perish, this human risked his life to save them. Why would he do that if he considered animals less worthy?

“I didn’t say animals are less worthy.”

Jarran hissed.
This human thought it.

Ben’s dragon snorted at the same time as Ben answered.

“I did not,” he said.

Jarran reared, wings flapping. Ben staggered back as the concussion wave hit him. He smelt musk and citrus and as the dragon opened its mouth, Ben saw rows of sharp, pointy teeth. Gutted by talons, or chomped by teeth—he was a goner for sure.

Jarran’s muscles bunched and he launched into the air, screeching, wings beating hard, and was soon lost from sight.

Forgive my brother, human. You see him not at his best. We are tired. The fire took much to defeat.

“I can relate to that. I was fighting it for days.”

Ben’s dragon snorted. This time it held an amused tone. Light swirled over and around the creature, bathing him, obscuring Ben’s vision. Seconds later a man dressed in loose black overalls stood in place of the dragon. Taller than Ben, muscular, green-eyed, dark-haired, his face too angular to be considered handsome, but Ben was interested. Pretty boys didn’t do a damn thing for him. But neither did men wearing farmer Joe overalls.

“Stop showing off, Darren,” Darius admonished, joining Ben’s side. “You are scaring the human witless.”

“Too late for that, Darius. I think he was witless before today, because I saw how he fought the fire. Like all humans, he has no understanding of his enemy. He did, however, show some skill. He could be trained.” He laughed.

“Cripes, I’m CFS. I trained—”

“This one saved the lives of fur brothers and sisters. You show him respect!” The woman who had revived Ben’s kitty slapped Darren’s wrist. She turned to him, smiling. “I know you must be confused.”

That, thought Ben, was an understatement. His brain pulsed as he saw other dragons and a few cats shift to human.
Oh hell!
Everything was spinning around him. The next thing he knew he was face first in the lawn, spitting out grass.

“He is sick, give him air.”

“Breathe on him, Darren.”

Other pieces of advice from a myriad of speakers—all making no sense.

“Stand away, all of you. The boy’s had a shock.”

He was lifted, set upright, hands and words steadying, soothing. Something was held to his lips. He drank instinctively. It tasted like warm mead.

“You are hurt,” Darren said, gripping Ben’s arm.

“I’m tired,” he said, only now acknowledging his exhaustion. He’d fought that fire without rest until he couldn’t think straight, couldn’t talk. And in the last hour he’d seen stuff that he couldn’t understand or explain. Maybe he was dead—or having one of those out of body experiences he’d heard about. This couldn’t be real! But if this wasn’t real, why did he feel so sick? If he was dead, then he wouldn’t feel anything—right? He planted his feet firmly apart, and stood upright by sheer willpower. He shrugged off Darren’s grip.

“I think more than tired,” the woman said, stroking his arm. “But the drink will renew you. Darren, you need the elixir, too.”

“I do?” He accepted a goblet of the brew from the woman and downed it in one gulp. “Now what?” he asked Darius.

“I will send out teams to look for survivors.”

Ben nodded. “You’ll find my crew, with animals, in the creek. I need to get back to them.” He went to step away, but Darius held him hard, fingers grinding muscle against bone, even through the protective layers of his fire jacket.

“What you have seen here is a secret. Can we trust you to leave here and never reveal us to your kind?”

“Like any would believe me if I told them I was rescued by a dragon and saw...saw a fire put out, as if by magic.”

“Of course by magic,” the woman said. “Dragons are wizards and I am a witch.” She held out her hand. “My name is Morgana.” She smiled at Ben as he returned her handshake on impulse. “Yes, I know Morgana is a cliché, but it is my name. Darren and Darius you already know.” She beckoned to the lion and the tiger. “Arius and Bartholomew.” She peered at the name tag on Ben’s yellow coat. “This is fireman O’Reilly.” The animals bowed their heads.

“Are they human, too?” Ben asked.

Darius snorted. “Define
human?
It is a species, nothing more. It does not make you masters of the world.”

“I’m outta here.”

Darius again restrained Ben. “You are of the family, now, you must keep what you have seen secret.” He smiled grimly. “Morgana introduced you as
fireman O’Reilly.
Since you are now family, we should know your full name. The name tag on your coat has B. O’Reilly. What does the
B
stand for?”

“Ben.” He paused. “And what family are you talking about?”

Darius spread his arms wide to encompass the homestead. “This family. It is one of many throughout the world. We are shapeshifters and wielders of magic. There is more, of course, but this will do for now—until you are initiated.”

Ben wasn’t sure he liked the sound of
initiated.
“But magic and all that stuff is just fairy tales, and dragons don’t exist...er... That is...” He glanced at Darren. The guy was smiling, green eyes alight, obviously enjoying his discomfiture—the prick.

“We are known through myth and legend, which is our safety, but in reality we exist.”

“Okay, then, if you really can do magic, why didn’t you stop the fire before it took out so many homes and destroyed tens of thousands of hectares?”

“And the animals killed by flames, you make no mention of them. They do not count for anything?” Darius demanded.

“Of course they do.”

Darius snorted. “Too often our furred and feathered kindred are considered expendable. We watched as people fled their homes, leaving animals behind. People we believed had more humanity, but perhaps
humanity
is a thin veneer when one is saving one’s own skin?”

Darren faced his brother, green eyes sparking gold. “Ben saved lives—human and animal this day and other days.” He paused. “I was flying patrol. I saw. He can be trusted. He is our friend.”

Ben returned Darren’s smile. Their gazes locked.

“Very well. It is decided. He is our friend, since you speak for him, Darren.” Darius nodded. “As for why we did not interfere before today, it is because the summoning of power takes time. We flew many rescue missions. Crops can grow again, houses can be re-built. But lives are irreplaceable. Once we had taken all those we could to safety, we turned our efforts to the fire. We are only flesh and blood. Those of my family who worked so hard to save this land will sleep for days. The cost of using our magic is high. Two dragons and four wizards died. We must mourn them, as you will mourn your losses.”

“Even one life lost is too high,” Ben said.

“Even if that life is not human?” Darius demanded.

“Absolutely. Why are you so angry with me?”

Darius sighed. “I saw the men who started the fire.”

“Don’t hold me accountable for the actions of nutters.”

“He is right, Darius,” Morgana said.

“I am sorry.” Darius inclined his head.

“I knew there were arsonists.” Ben clenched his fists. “Where are the men now? I’ll get the police—”

“They have faced our justice. They will not light any more fires,” Darius said.

After what Ben had seen over the last few days, arsonists deserved what they got, but he didn’t want details. He was sure talons and teeth were involved. “I need to re-join my crew. They’ll be worried that I got toasted.” He smiled ruefully, noticing the red welts on his hands. “Singed maybe.”

“Give me your hands, Ben,” Morgana said and Ben instinctively obeyed. He allowed her to hold his hands between her palms, and watched that gold light again emanate from her fingers to envelop his. It was pleasant at first, a warmth that steadily grew until it was burning. He yelped, trying to tear his hands free. Morgana held on with a strength that was...inhuman. He wet his lips and endured the pain.

Minutes later it was over. She stepped back. Ben stared at his hands, turning them every way to inspect. Not one burn remained. And the stinging pain was gone, too.

“Hell,” he said. “I mean, er, thank you.”

“Morgana is gifted. Come, sister,” Darius said, “We have work to do.”

Darren turned to Ben. “Let me take you to your men.”

“I’m not up to flying right now.”

“That is a pity,” he said. “I enjoyed holding you in my talons.”

Ben glanced up at Darren, saw the other man’s teasing grin.

“My brother is incorrigible,” Darius said, turning to smile at them over his shoulder.

“Your brother?”

“We are all kindred, Ben,” Darren replied. “We share a bond closer than any human family.”

“Secrets can do that,” Ben said. He knew all about secrets and the price one paid when those secrets were betrayed.

“You understand?”

Ben nodded.

“I will take you to your crew,” Darren said. “No flying. I have a trail bike.”

After the day’s events, Ben decided that was the last straw. A guy who could turn to dragon, who used magic to fight fire, and who rode a trail bike... He ran a hand over his hair, cringing at the gunk of ash and debris. His face was probably black with soot, too. Why the hell did it matter what he looked like? But staring at Darren and the way the guy returned that gaze, he figured it did matter.
A lot.

Morgana paused, looking up from her work at a nearby table. She held a mortar and pestle and was busy grinding some herbs to a powder. Darius joined her side, bringing more plants. “The kitten you rescued, the other animals, may we keep them here in our sanctuary?” she asked.

“Yeah. Anyone who leaves animals behind in cages to die in a fire, doesn’t have any right to them.”

“Agreed,” Darius said. “I thought I could trust our neighbours. It seems I misjudged them and their fire plan.”

“We will have to work harder to educate humans about their kindred companions,” Morgana said.

Darren nodded. “I’ll go and get my bike.”

Minutes later Darren returned, dressed in jeans, black t-shirt and buckle boots. Ben gaped, heart thrumming, gut flipping. The sight of Darren all long and lean in jeans, pushing a sporty red trail bike was amazing and...
Do not go there, O’Reilly,
he admonished himself.
Not today, anyway!

Darren climbed onto the machine and started the engine.