Tesser: A Dragon Among Us (A Reemergence Novel) (16 page)

On the other side of the bar, a middle-aged woman with peroxide-blonde hair started up some music on the bar's antiquated jukebox. The classic riffs of Led Zeppelin started to fill the bar with precious filler noise.

"I went back to the alley.  I've been back four times.  I've looked for wires, fans, signs of any kind of Hollywood special effects bullshit, but nothing.  The alley is clean and clear.  No tricks, no nothing.  I'll do you one better, Bobby.  I sat there for hours, checking through shit, and no matter how bad the wind picked up, it never once stirred the trash in that dead end.  Even when we had that shower the other night.  That alley man...  Tesser and that kid. Something real strange I can’t explain.  And I'm trying. I haven't slept for more than an hour at once since."

Bobby sat the whiskey down and looked long and hard at his friend. Spoon had sat his own glass down and was staring down into it. Bobby could see the conflict in his friend's eyes.

He probably thinks I'm fucking crazy.

"I think you're fucking crazy," Bobby said flatly. "But that ain't new. You got years of being crazy under your belt. But I can see something in your eyes, Henry. Something I haven't seen in someone since Afghanistan, my friend. And it chills me. Brings back some darkness."

"I'm sorry, Bobby. I didn't bring you here to bring that out again. I just needed to talk about this. You're the only man I can trust, and I was hoping I could talk to you and not feel quite so motherfucking lost on this."

Bobby chewed on his lip and shook his head. "Spoon, you are never alone on anything. You're part of a brotherhood. Multiple brotherhoods. I can't say all of the rest of our blue family would take this story as well as I have, but you are never alone, don't ever forget that."

He's right.

"What now?" Bobby asked bluntly.

Spoon shrugged, lost. "I don't know. I know if I take this up the chain to the brass I'm gonna either get fired or get sent in to the shrink to have my head examined until I'm separated from the force. I don't know if I keep tailing this Tesser character, or if I just fucking walk and try to pretend like there aren't motherfuckers out there that can do magic and shit. Pretend like the world is as boring as it always has been."

"That's some serious rabbit hole shit, brother."

Spoon agreed. "Yeah. I don't know what to do. I was hoping you had some ideas to share."

"Assuming you are telling the truth, and I'm being real generous when I say that I believe you on this, how does any of what happened in that alley change you being a cop? A pretty good cop, I might add."

I hate having friends that give good advice.

"It doesn't change anything, I guess," Spoon said as he pushed the whiskey glass away.

"Right. You still have a case to work, and if anything, you stay on this Tesser dude and
 

 
that until the other perp comes at him, or until you get a better lead, which by the way, you should be working on. And if while you're following Tesser you see more of this spell bullshit, or you see a dwarf running down Comm Ave., and you can get evidence of it, then you go up the chain of command. But
not
before you have proof, understand?"

"Yeah."

"You do it too soon and it's career suicide. You won't be able to get a cop job this side of the Mississippi for ten years." Bobby tipped his tiny glass up in his bear-like paws and drained the last of the whiskey.

"Thanks, Bobby. I don't know why I didn't reason all that through on my own. I'm swimming at the bottom of this mire, looking up through the shit and not thinking. I'm sorry to drag you into this." Spoon put the cap on the bottle of the whiskey. The drinking was done.

"When you're in too deep, sometimes you need a hand getting out of the hole, man. You were there for me once. More than once. High time I put out my hand for you. Spoon, you're a hard man.
 
You've been through the ring of fire the same as those Special Operations guys, and the same as this Tesser guy. Never forget, Spoon: in the valley, you fear no evil because you're the baddest motherfucker in that valley, brother. It ain't no cliché with some people. Never forget."

"You say such nice things, Bobby. You should write birthday cards. I think we should go steady."

"You would like that, wouldn’t you? I don’t think Susan would approve. But I'll let my wife know she's on notice. I've got a plan B now."

The two men exited the booth and embraced like brothers should. It might've been the whiskey, but Spoon caught a sniffle in his nose and wiped some moisture away from his eyes.

"If this shit is real, Henry, you play it smart, and don't get in too deep alone. You call for backup immediately. Horror movies start this way, and you're too pretty to survive until the sequel."

"Ha. My mom pay you to say that, Bobby?"

"Your mom pays me to bang her not say nice thing to you. Be safe brother."

"Will do." Spoon watched Bobby leave and then took a seat in the booth again. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, clearing out the unnatural anxiety he had been fighting. It didn't make it all go away, but it helped some.

Baddest motherfucker, eh? Yeah, sure
.
God, I'm in for it, aren't I?

Chapter Twenty

Abe Fellows

For better or for worse, life had changed for Abe. If he suddenly went blind, deaf and dumb, the world would still be vibrant and different.
 

Better.

I still don't think he's a dragon. Can't be possible. He is refusing to shift forms, despite saying he can shift whenever he wants to, and ever since his big announcement, all he's done is patrol the internet, read books, and eat our food. I mean, I suppose he could be telling the truth. Mr. Doyle said that the defero spell we cast would never have worked without Tesser being there. If he isn't the dragon of magic, I wonder what this Kaula is like to have around?

Abe had left Mr. Doyle's home to head back to his apartment for a bit. It was mid-evening, and the sun was hidden behind the buildings of the old city. Its light kissed soft yellow streaks across the blue sky above. Despite the wonderful accommodations, Abe felt it prudent to keep his lease. You never know when a relationship will shit the bed.
 
The presence of the consumed dragon in man's form and the overbearing and bossy British mage had driven Abe away from the brownstone for a bit. He also needed more underwear.

Shit, it’s hot again. Late heat this year is wicked fierce. It's almost mid-August and we're still pushing a hundred. Damn humidity too. It's like walking through a fucking hot tub all the time. Sweating awful.

The temperature in Boston had been brutal. Temperatures across the whole world were up on average. Global warming was blamed, as was the presence of GMO foods, but after the discussion Abe had been a part of he wondered if the disappearance of this Kaula dragon and sudden awakening of Tesser had something to do with it. But Abe was also a wee bit stuck on the idea that dragons ran the world.

The word “Kaula” had Indian roots, which had some traction since the dragon named Kiarohn said that she lived in Asia. It was something a quick Google search helped with. Likely, the name Kaula long predated the use of the word now.
 

Abe wiped sweat from his brow and made the turn onto Mr. Doyle's opulent street. It was in perhaps the best area of Boston, if you could afford it, and few could. The four- and five-story-tall brownstone homes were centuries old and immaculately maintained. Most were single-family it seemed, or had been renovated into condominiums. Mr. Doyle's residence was his and his alone, and it was filled with remnants of a long and glorious past.
 

The streets were lined with the vibrant green of hedges, small trees, and speckled with the colors of flowers. On Beacon Street, the scent of the gardens nearly overcame the pervasive smell of car exhaust. It was like escaping into a different century, one with less concerns and missing a dragon named Kaula.

Not that having Tesser around was bad, of course.

Abe wasn't a fan of joggers. In fact, he wasn't a fan of anyone who did anything physically active. If he could do everything from his bed, he would. When a married pair of middle-aged, double income snobs ran past, Abe pressed him against the fence in front of a house and sneered.
 

Dickheads. Spandex is a privilege, not a right, douchenozzle. Although, she does look good for a lady pushing forty. I'd hit that. I wonder if she's into nerdy wizards?
 
Wait. Was that tree there before?

As Abe returned his gaze to the forward position from the spandex bottom of the woman jogging, his eyes lingered on a tree growing in a garden two houses down that he swore wasn't there a day ago.

I don't think that tree was there when I left the house. In fact, I KNOW that tree wasn't there.

The tree was a tall and slender birch, with a trunk no bigger than a cooking pot at its thickest point. The tree's top reached up the full three-story-level of the houses along the row, and it grew in a garden where it was surrounded by thick hedges.

Who the hell would plant a tree right there?

Abe approached the tree cautiously, as one might walk toward a growling dog.

This is absurd. I'm scared of a fucking tree. I hope I get over being such a chicken shit. I'm seeing ghosts everywhere, and I'm like 99% sure my shadow has it out for me right now.

The tree was pretty, though not in the way a flower was. It had a silvery paper look to it and seemed old, but strong rather than decayed and rotten as some old trees can look. It almost seemed fresh and rejuvenated, like the grass after a warm summer rain.

Abe played dumb and tied his shoelaces as two neighborhood locals walked by. They looked at him as if he were a vagrant.

Yeah, fuck you. So what? I like to wear Chucks. We don't all have 'earning money' as our purpose in life. Fuckfaces.

When the intruders passed and were a safe distance away, Abe built the courage to reach over the waist-high wrought iron fence and touch the tree.

It feels papery. Birch bark is so strange.
 

Abe stepped away and looked at the tree, relieved that it was normal.

Then the tree looked back at him.

Two small knots in the tree's side spread open, revealing eyelids and two glassy orbs that looked far too human and too wise for Abe's sanity to stay firm. As a tiny mouth appeared in a crack of the papery bark below, Abe let loose a shriek that rattled the old glass windows of five homes, and he ran away as fast as he could, straight to Mr. Doyle's home.

"I guess I'll introduce myself later," the tree said softly to the hedge.

It took Abe somewhere between eight and ten seconds to reach the top of the stone stairs leading to the wide ash door and get his key in the tumbler. Five more seconds saw him reach the top of the second floor landing, screaming for Tesser all the while.

"What? Abe, are you okay?" Tesser asked as he stepped out from the bedroom Mr. Doyle had allowed him to stay in. Tesser was wet from a shower. His dirty blonde hair was darker from the water, and his muscle-etched body was still covered in moisture. All he wore was a plush white towel.

"A tree!" Abe gasped. "Just fucking!" He gasped again. "Looked at me!" He folded over hard at the waist and put his hands on his knees. He heaved hard for air. Covering the thirty yards of sidewalk had obliterated his entire reserve of stamina.

Mr. Doyle appeared suddenly at the top floor's landing, "What is he speaking of? Abraham, what did you say happened?"

Abe swallowed and tried to eke out an answer, but his lungs just wouldn't cooperate.

Goddamit, I am out of shape. And look at Tesser. He's a fucking Greek statue over there. He could run a marathon twice and then recite poetry. I gotta cut back on the soda.

"Here," Tesser said as he offered a fresh glass of water to the exhausted man.

Thank God.

Abe greedily swallowed down a gulp, then spoke, "I saw a tree outside that looked new. A tree that wasn't there earlier tonight. Or yesterday. I walked over to check it out, and after I touched it, two like knots in the wood opened up, and I swear to God, Mr. Doyle, there were eyes inside. It had a face. The tree
looked
at me. You guys gotta go look."

"I highly doubt God had anything to do with your tree, Abraham."

Tesser turned and looked up at the mage. "And what would
you
know about God, Mr. Doyle? I don't think you're old enough to have an informed opinion on what God does and doesn't have a hand in."

Mr. Doyle scoffed, but came down the stairs nonetheless. "Abraham, please take us to your talking tree."

Abraham led Tesser and the old wizard out the front door. Mr. Doyle walked cautiously using a wooden cane. He claimed the wood originated from a tree that grew on a Tibetan mountainside next to a monastery dedicated to the pursuit of ethereal travel. He claimed the cane allowed him to avoid unseen obstacles. Tesser was still dressed in just a towel.