Tesser: A Dragon Among Us (A Reemergence Novel) (10 page)

"Again, on behalf of my family and all of the executives of Fitzgerald Industries, I thank you all for your hard work. We could not have done this without all of you, and we will not be able to keep doing it without you."

This time, no one held their applause.

I hope I get one of those transfer letters.

Two hours later, a tall man that looked like he belonged in the Secret Service visited Matty at her cubicle and wordlessly handed her a thick blue envelope with a smile. It contained transfer papers for her to join Project Amethyst.

Yeah, bitches.

Chapter Thirteen

Abraham "Abe" Fellows

I have consumed so much Red Bull I think my piss will never be clear again. Nuclear urine for me.

Abe rubbed some sticky cobwebs out of the corners of his eyes. He had been awake for a long time. So long he couldn't actually place when he'd woken up. Everything was a caffeinated blur.

Where the fuck is this guy?

Abe had only just gotten back into Mr. Doyle's massive home. He was still sweaty from the mid-July sticky, evening heat and his Wolverine t-shirt still clung to his back. His mission had been to scour the streets and alleys near the ATM where the footage of the man with the golden eyes had been taken. He went from corner to corner for almost ten hours, asking each bum, two-dollar hooker, and store owner if he or she had seen the man.

In fact, many had seen him, though none had laid eyes on him in the past few weeks. Some of the more helpful shop employees in the area had thought he'd moved on to a different part of the city. With no solid leads, Abe was at a dead end.

Internet to the rescue.

Abe washed his face in the marble sink in the grand guest bathroom outside his second floor bedroom. Sitting down to start his electronic search in earnest, he cracked open yet another can of Red Bull.

Alright, let's try WWS again. See if anyone has put this together other than Mr. Doyle and I.

He pointed his browser at Wizards Warlocks and Sorcerers.
 

Whoa.

The number of threads and replies had increased significantly since his last visit. The amount of new accounts had spiked as well. Each had one of a few similar stories.
 

Foremost, there were the sightings. People across the world had begun to… see things. Small creatures in the woodlands that looked out of place. Outright bizarre sightings in some cases. Several forum threads spoke of fairies in secluded forests and the semi-human footprints of something gigantic in their gardens. From all the corners of the world, there were pictures of blurred things moving in the distance. It was eerie.

Secondly, there were the threads that captured the thrill and excitement of someone who had done something special. Something magical.

Lucky fuckers.

These people were able to wield a moment of energy, a second of sorcery, and had no idea who to talk to or what to do next. Some people had done a single, miniscule thing before their power had fleeted away but others were experiencing days of repeated miracles. One woman shared her excitement that she was now able to mix her pie dough by simply swirling her finger in a circle from the other side of the kitchen.

Big fucking deal. So you can make pie with magic. Can you pee standing up? Huh? Make a spell that does that and get back to me.

But alas, WWS was empty of anything about the golden-eyed man.

The Delphian Covenant was the same. The reporters, especially Abe's favorite, Oliver, were reporting on the sudden spike in paranormal activity. Oliver had written a short blog update on the Covenant about his arrival in Northern Scotland at an old castle that allegedly was showing signs of an angry ghost's return. Images of darkened castle passages with blood streaked walls danced across his monitor.

Wow. That'll fuck with my sleep tonight.

Still, there was nothing of the golden-eyed man.

Shit. Social media it is.

Twitter revealed nothing, despite Abe's sizable list of people he followed. Twitter had not yet entered into the magical arena, and none of the celebrities he followed had anything to add to his search. He then went to Facebook, where he had prior success.

He was rewarded almost immediately.

Abe's Facebook feed was filled with the same nonsense and drivel that every 25-year-old kid’s was: fresh-out-of-college assholes having babies, women screaming about how excited they are to be engaged or pregnant, ten thousand pictures of pets, and the obligatory smartasses posting social commentary via captioned pictures. Abe definitely belonged to the latter category.
 

Earlier in the week, Abe had made specific effort to friend about three dozen young local girls in an attempt to enter a social circle that might yield results. Basically, he wanted to be friends with people who were obsessed with spreading rumors and gossip.
 

College bitches.

He chose a handful of girls from each of the major colleges in Boston. Boston College and Boston University were at the top of the list. They were large and in the Back Bay. Right below that were Tufts and Emerson. He then made sure to track down a few girls from Northeastern and Berklee, but he had a suspicion that Northeastern girls were too high a caliber and Berklee girls were all too into music to yield any results. He kept those friend adds to a minimum.

He finally hit pay dirt with a BU connection.

Charlene Kearns, a junior at Boston University that had brown hair with blonde highlights, bright blue eyes, and an ass to die for posted that she'd seen “the naked hobo kick more ass."

Oh, this might be helpful.

Abe clicked on the video in her status and immediately knew he was on to something. She'd put up a cell phone video that had been taken late at night in a pizza shop. Two men, a few years younger and a lot dumber than Abe, got into a very short fistfight after calling each other's colleges horrible things.

Fucking apes.

The girl, Charlene, had her camera in a great spot to capture the man with the golden eyes as he approached the two fighters. He loudly barked out a single command that froze the entire place. Charlene's hand trembled at the force of the word, and even through the shitty, smudged video, Abe could feel the magical power exuded from the man raising his voice. It was less a command to stop and more of a magical compulsion to do so. Had the men been deaf, they likely would've stopped fighting regardless. Abe's hair stood on end from the power of the word.

Who is this guy? He's got serious game.

Of course, stupidity is hard to compel, magically or otherwise, and the man with the golden eyes had to go hands-on. The college kid who threw the punch was wrapped up in a lightning fast and largely pain-free restraint and ejected into the street by the stranger. The man who had been punched quickly went to the bathroom with his girlfriend after speaking to the unique bouncer. The video cut out a few seconds after that.

Well then. That certainly settles the question of whether or not this guy is magical in some way, doesn't it? Mr. Doyle is going to shit a crumpet and a whole pot of Earl Grey tea when he sees this.

Abe's heart raced faster and faster as he restarted the video, looking for some sort of clue as to which of the umpteenth pizza shops in Boston the video could’ve been showing. The only worse scenario would've been if the video were taken in a shit Chinese restaurant. He looked for a menu on the wall, and paid special attention to the moment when the phone's view turned to the front of the pizza shop. When Abe saw the street view outside, he paused the video, and within a few seconds of looking at details in the background, he knew exactly where the shop was.

I could be there in five minutes. Ten tops.

Abe powered down his laptop and grabbed his wallet and keys.
 

Should I tell Mr. Doyle? I should tell him where I'm going. If this guy is dangerous, I'm royally fucked. I've never cast a single defensive spell successfully, and I guarantee I can’t outrun the fucking guy.

Abe debated and then left it alone.

Confident and assertive, right? Time to shine, Abraham Fellows. Time to shine. I should change my shirt though. Ol’ gold-eyes might be a DC fan.

Chapter Fourteen

Tesser

It is quite hot tonight. The air is thick and hard to breathe. Were I a normal human like the rest of the people here, I would be sweating profusely.

Boston had reached sweltering temperatures that day. The sprawl of pavement mixed with running cars, exhaust, and body heat had driven the temperature up to a solid one hundred angry, sadistic degrees. The humidity had crept right up alongside it like a conspirator in a crime of mass misery. Tesser had moved out to the street to get what passed for fresh air in the city.

I would think more people would want a salad.

The line to the pizza shop was out the door and extended down the sidewalk the length of twenty people. Sal and Pete, the two men tasked with tossing the dough and making the pizza, were working incredibly quickly to churn out pie after pie. Tesser watched them toss the circles of soft dough into the air repeatedly, spinning them larger and larger.

It's almost magical. In fact, I'd bet anything there was a tiny trace of the mystical inside each pie.

Tesser turned his attention to the passersby on the street. The sidewalks in that area of the city were wide; six or seven people could walk side-by-side easily so long as they took care to walk around the city trash barrels, signposts, and bicycle stands. Tesser had his heels on the curb as the cars slowly crept by in the rush hour traffic behind him.
 

So many young people here. That speaks of growth. A civilization filled with youth is a growing and safe culture. But when I watch the television, it seems like so many other areas of the world are aging and not growing. The new human invention of the economy seems to be crushing people under the weight of false debt.
 

Tesser let the negative thoughts drift away. He had a book to read. Reading languages had always come easier to the dragon than speaking them. Tesser had taught himself innumerable rudimentary tongues in centuries past by listening and looking at crude paintings on cave walls and reading etchings in clay tablets. Currently, he held a middle school science textbook he'd found at a dusty discount bookseller. It fascinated him.

Particularly the section on biology and reproduction.

"Hey, gold eyes!"

"Hey, Tesser!"

Two more of my lady-dominated fan club.

Tesser smiled seductively. "Good evening, ladies. Enjoy the food."

"We will!" They shouted back in unison.

Tesser smiled at the rest of the young crowd standing in line and exiting the shop, pizza already in hand. They were young and foolish in the way everyone wished they could be their whole lives. Tesser wondered how it was to grow up in a world dominated by so much technology and so little magic.

It must be strange. But to be truthful, so much of this science and technology achieves what magic used to. To contact someone across the sea, one would've sent a missive spell, filled with words and thoughts powered by the ethereal energy of the universe. Now, one simply uses their cell phone. What is so different about that?

Tesser watched the duo of pretty college girls tap away on their iPhones, sending text messages with practiced grace. One of the girls lifted her phone ever so slightly and took a picture of him. Tesser smiled knowingly.

Tesser inhaled the dirty city air as he leaned his head back, forgetting again the textbook he had been devouring all day. The sky was hazy today, filled with the threat of an evening thunderstorm.

Oh, I wish I could shed this body and fly above these clouds, far from the prying electronic eyes of this society. Not being able to see blue sky makes my skin crawl. It would be such a joy to soar and twist between these tall buildings, to plummet to the ocean's surface and feel the spray on my scales. I would devour a seal, or a tuna, or a-