“Yes,” Melissa said quietly. “Yes, I know.”
“As some of you may know,” Juliane said, “Melissa Smith was the reporter to first bring us pictures of dragons in action. We’re going to split the screen here to show you some of those images, in case you haven’t seen them yet, as well as a YouTube video that has been enormously popular in recent days….”
“You got a story for me?” Doug said in Melissa’s ear.
She thanked the man for his time, shook his hand, and turned away from the camera. “I’m not at liberty to talk about that,” she said to Doug, and heard his dissatisfaction.
“You could get scooped,” he warned.
“I made a promise,” Melissa said. “Keeping my word is the most important thing of all.”
There was nothing Doug could say to that. Melissa knew that she and he lived by the same code. She knew he recognized it, as well.
Because she heard him as he swore softly under his breath.
J
orge halted behind a shed, eying a cottage. He was utterly still, except for his nostrils. Donovan’s scent led to this cottage on this remote island, and went no farther.
He was in there.
Was the Sleeper there, too?
Jorge didn’t know. He had followed Donovan on impulse, his attention caught by the Warrior’s sudden departure from Minneapolis. Donovan seemed to be on a mission, and a
Pyr
on a mission could be an interesting source of information.
Now Magnus wanted someone called the Sleeper, undoubtedly connected to Rafferty and the blood duel. Jorge believed he might once again be in the right place at the right time. Everyone knew that Donovan and Rafferty had an old bond. The story he’d heard from the locals, that Donovan had inherited this cottage, was suspect, as well. Jorge sensed a fabricated explanation.
But was the Sleeper here? He stood and he sniffed and he knew there was only one way to be sure.
Behind the house and to the left, the land rose. The spine of the island was slightly elevated, more like hills than mountains, but the land was rocky.
Could there be a cave there?
Jorge considered the house again, his eyes narrowing.
Then he moved suddenly and silently. He stopped about six feet from the door to the cottage and raised his right talon. He slashed downward, slicing through the dragonsmoke barrier woven by Donovan. The mate and child were with the Warrior, but Jorge had no interest in them.
Unless they proved to be useful.
Jorge flattened himself against the wall to one side of the cottage door. He touched the doorknob. Of course, it wasn’t locked.
A trap? Or naive human trust?
Jorge wasn’t even certain the cottages had locks on this island. He was over the threshold as silently as a shadow, closing the door without a sound.
He heard the mate, sleeping. He heard the child, also sleeping.
Donovan’s scent emanated from the small kitchen.
Jorge eased toward the kitchen, which was hidden around a corner. There was a trapdoor in the kitchen floor.
Open.
Exuding darkness and the scent of wet earth.
And the trail of the Warrior himself.
Jorge moved with haste. He went through the hatch and slipped down the ladder. The darkness was so complete that it took his eyes a moment to adjust.
There was a tunnel, snaking back toward that hill behind the house. He had to crawl through it, which would put him at a temporary disadvantage at the other end. Jorge considered the reward and took the risk.
The tunnel was no more than three feet in diameter, and water ran on its floor. Several passages branched off on either side at intervals, but Jorge wasn’t distracted from his goal. Donovan’s scent was clear and fresh.
He reached the end, hesitating only a moment. He sensed a yawning cavern of darkness, then leapt into the chamber. It wasn’t far to the ground, maybe two feet, but the floor of the cave was wet.
“
Nothing like unexpected guests
,” Donovan said, his old-speak deep and slow.
“
Maybe not that unexpected
,” Jorge replied.
“
Maybe not
,” Donovan agreed. Then he breathed a radiant plume of dragonfire, revealing the scene to Jorge in one flash of light.
He saw that the cavern was cut from the stone. There was a platform in the center of the chamber, like a funeral bier. A young man with long dark hair and a beard lay there, his eyes closed and his breathing slow.
And the dragon that was Donovan the Warrior, powerful with lapis lazuli and silver scales, was coiled around the platform that supported the Sleeper. His tail curled between Jorge and the sleeping man.
Jorge saw all of that in the blink of an eye.
“
The Sleeper!
” he guessed.
“
The very same
,” Donovan agreed.
“And the small complication of his defender.”
“
For the Sleeper, then
,” Jorge hissed, then shifted shape to a topaz and gold dragon.
“
For the Sleeper
,” Donovan agreed. The pair breathed fire and leapt toward each other, their talons locking as they collided beside the platform. The ground shook with the force of their impact.
Neither of them noticed that the Sleeper stretched.
Rafferty was dizzy when he manifested in a workroom. He closed his eyes against his body’s reaction to the move through space, then forced them open again.
There was no time for weakness. Magnus’s scent was strong.
He could smell water and hear engines, as well as hear their vibrations. Monitors beeped, and he saw men in an adjacent room quietly conferring. There was a sign declaring this to be the control room of the Thames Barrier.
Rafferty had a dreadful idea of what Magnus would do. With the seas so high, if the barrier was opened, the city would be flooded. Who knew how many people would die?
“
Looks so peaceful, doesn’t it?
” Magnus murmured in old-speak.
“Let’s play.”
Rafferty pivoted to find his opponent leaning against the wall in human form, eyes shining with malice.
Magnus strolled into the room, startling the men who were working there. “What does this do?” he asked, and punched a button on a console. A mechanism began to move, rumbling ominously.
“Don’t!” one man shouted, lunging toward him.
Before the man could reach Magnus, that
Slayer
shimmered and shifted shape. He struck the man who fell hard on the floor, attracting the attention of the others.
Their eyes rounded. Magnus reared back before them, his jade scales sparkling. Rafferty thought he looked less vigorous than he had, and a bit paler.
Magnus turned to Rafferty, his gaze filled with menace.
“Care to tell me where my brother’s son is sleeping?”
Several of the men glanced upward, evidently thinking they heard thunder.
“What do you want with him?”
“He’s slept a thousand years. I doubt he looks it. You could transfer the spell to me, grandson of the Cantor, and save the city.”
“Never!”
Magnus smiled. “
Oh look, I’m feeling persuasive again.
”
Rafferty shifted shape in turn and bounded after the
Slayer
, intent on stopping him before he did more damage.
Rafferty struck Magnus hard, and the
Slayer
recoiled. Rafferty reopened the wounds on Magnus’s chest, and the
Slayer
screamed in agony, his blood pooling on the floor. Rafferty heard the relentless rumble of something moving but didn’t know what it was. The men evidently were distracted by the fight.
“Those two were on television,” one of the men said. “The opal one was trying to kill the green one then, too.”
“We should help him!”
Someone broke a chair over Rafferty’s back as Magnus chuckled. Another man used a fire extinguisher, shooting the foam into Rafferty’s eyes. Rafferty roared in frustration and tore at Magnus, determined to finish what he had begun. Magnus pivoted, breathing a long plume of dragonfire at his opponent.
Rafferty didn’t think it was a coincidence that the flame licked a control panel on one console. Sparks flew as the board shorted out, and the men began to shout. Magnus lit another and another, shorting out the controls in the room. Black smoke rose from the console to fill the room.
“
All you have to do is reunite me with my brother’s son
,” Magnus whispered.
“That will make it stop.”
“
Liar
,” Rafferty declared.
“You’re enjoying yourself.”
“
I should have tried the direct approach years ago
,” Magnus murmured.
“Nothing rivals a big finish.”
Magnus began to sing. The earth rumbled in response to his chant, the floor vibrating with increasing rhythm. Rafferty thought about singing a competing tune but was leery of making matters worse. Gaia had been volatile lately, and he didn’t want to endanger more humans.
One man swore, bracing his hands on the last console as he adjusted the controls with desperate gestures. “The green one opened the gates!” he cried, his voice rising in fear. “The barrier is opening, and the controls are shorted out. The city will be flooded, and there’s nothing we can do about it!”
“There’s one thing we can do.” The man with the fire extinguisher turned it on Magnus. Magnus screamed and stumbled as the foam went into his eyes. Rafferty fell on his old foe, taking advantage of the moment, and slammed his head into the concrete wall. He did it over and over again. Black blood ran down the
Slayer
’s temple as he went limp.
If he was unconscious, he couldn’t move through space.
“Get out!” Rafferty shouted to the men, holding fast to Magnus. “Get out while you can.” He sensed the flash of a camera or a cell phone, but ignored it. Every vestige of strength he had was used to eliminate Magnus and the evil this
Slayer
had created.
Rafferty thought of the creation of the Elixir, the sacrifice of Sahir to the making of that vile potion. He thought of the shadow dragons, raised from the dead against their will and shackled to Magnus’s command. He thought of Delaney, tormented by Magnus’s desire to experiment with a newly dead
Pyr
and his Elixir. He thought of the Sleeper, hidden from Magnus for so long, and all the
Pyr
who had been sacrificed to dragon hide powder for Magnus to sell to humans as a cure. He heard the water rushing through the barrier and the torrent of water descending on the city, but he held fast.
Rafferty seized his old foe’s throat and closed his talons around it. He squeezed the life out of Magnus, knowing that he was giving his kind a new future. Magnus began to struggle as he fought for air. He thrashed violently, but Rafferty held on.
Magnus flailed at Rafferty, his talons digging into Rafferty’s hide. He begged. He cajoled. He struggled longer than Rafferty could have believed possible, and Rafferty decided it must be the residue of the Elixir in Magnus’s veins. Magnus shimmered, evidently trying to shift or move, but failed.
His eyes opened to narrowed slits, glinting like cut gems. He grinned then, surprising Rafferty with that expression.
Then he breathed a stream of dragonsmoke. It wound toward Rafferty, burning every scale it touched. Rafferty hung on, knowing that Magnus must be close to death. He tightened his grip but couldn’t stop the dragonsmoke. It wound closer. It coiled around him.
And it struck like a spear into the space where he had just lost a scale. The skin was soft and vulnerable, undefended, and the smoke’s strike made Rafferty scream in agony.
The old-speak came just as Rafferty’s grip loosened slightly.
“
Come get your Sleeper, Magnus
,” Jorge purred.
“I’ve saved him just for you.”
Magnus shifted shape, becoming a salamander once again. Rafferty closed his grip but missed the small slithering creature. Then Magnus was gone, disappearing in the blink of an eye.
“No!” Rafferty roared, then followed suit.
To Erik’s dismay, Brandt was strong, both as agile and as elusive as a flame. Erik was reluctant to use all of his strength, hoping that Brandt would vent his anger before much damage was done.
But Brandt was fighting full out. He slashed at Erik with his talons extended and drew blood immediately. “
Oath breaker
,” Brandt seethed.
“I suppose you will argue that this was for the sake of truth, as well.”
He swung to strike Erik with his tail, then breathed brilliant fire.
“
I erred
,” Erik replied, dodging both blow and fire.
“I admit it, but I tried to fix the error by warning you of my mistake.”
“
You broke your word. Why should I trust anything you say?
” Brandt launched himself at Erik. Erik swerved suddenly, but Brandt changed direction at the last second. He sank his talons into Erik’s shoulder, spinning him around and tearing at his wings.
Erik had enough of being kind. He struck the younger
Pyr
with his tail, then launched a torrent of dragonfire at his back as he tumbled through the air. Brandt changed course and charged back, his eyes blazing. Erik slashed him across the snout, drawing blood.
“
First, you condemned my firestorm; now you break your word
,” Brandt sneered.
“What kind of leader are you?”
“
The best you have
,” Sloane argued.
“
You condemned your own firestorm
,” Erik retorted, ignoring the Apothecary.
“You were the one who lied to your mate.”
“
So says the
Pyr
whose mate killed herself rather than face his truth
,” Brandt scoffed.
“Kay didn’t want to know about my truth, and I would have hidden it from her until the day she died.”
Brandt’s eyes narrowed.
“It would have worked, except for you.”
“
It would never have worked
,” Erik retorted.
“Deception never does.”
“She couldn’t have accepted the truth.”
“She couldn’t accept that you lied to her.”
“You bastard!”
Brandt fell on Erik in a flurry of anger, all talons and teeth. Erik let the younger
Pyr
do his worst, now that he understood the root of his fury. He retaliated enough to keep himself from being seriously injured, but he respected that Brandt was driven by the hurt of his loss.