Awen Storm Page 5

  He inched to the opening and leaned far enough to peer around the corner. What he saw made Brian jerk back.

  They weren’t out of danger. Quite the opposite.

  The Doctora

  With only seconds to spare, Nergal shoved the doctora through the door and barely cleared it himself before the building collapsed with a shockwave that sent them cartwheeling into the street. The ground shuddered. Dust billowed from the flattened structure, clogging the air and blinding Nergal. Rising to all fours, he located the doctora and yanked her from the rubble.

  “Can you walk?” he grunted.

  Dazed, she teetered in the wreckage and pointed to one ear slit.

  Another tremor hit, rocking the buildings that were still standing. Then a thunderous explosion sounded in the direction of the base. Nergal’s base. Or it had been.

  A Breesnak screeched and charged from a building, flames engulfing its hairy back. Nergal grabbed the horrified doctora’s arm and dragged her to the alley, limping as fast as his pain and bowed-posture would allow. She yanked her arm from his grasp and planted her feet. A line of lavender blood trickled down one cheek.

  Leaning closer so she could hear him over the din, Nergal bellowed, “Come. My hideout is on higher ground. It should put us above the danger.”

  Her tortured countenance swiveled from side to side, gawking at the death and destruction. Another explosion sounded louder and closer. A steam vent spewed noxious gas. He had a momentary thought of cold-cocking the Draca, but in his current condition, Nergal wouldn’t be able to carry her. And he needed her skills.

  He grabbed her arm and dragged her behind him, picking his way over fallen rubble, and fighting past crazed survivors to the end of the alleyway. Drawing his hood tight, Nergal peeked around the corner. The main intersection was a heaving cauldron of reptiles and other beings hurrying to escape the quaking rumble that was growing stronger and louder.

  Reeking of fear and antiseptic, the petite doctora nudged Nergal’s shoulder and nodded to a nearby drain. The vent spewed, blasting toxic steam in their direction. He cleared a path through the hysterical crowd, bowling them over like pinquots with his good shoulder. The rumble intensified and the doctora urged him to hurry.

  The ground undulated in a side-to-side roll that flung them on top of a pile of writhing bodies. She scrambled up first and grabbed Nergal’s cape to free him from the grasp of a wailing Jahquad. Slinging the offender into the throng, Nergal trampled another and limped with the doctora away from the melee.

  Over their heads, an imperious screech drowned out everything else. Glancing up, Nergal faltered. It was the double-crossing drake. The one who had sealed the volcano shaft near Xibalba IX and ended Nergal’s forays into AboveEarth. For a moment, he prepared to do battle. Then reality sank in. He was much too weak to challenge the dragon.

  Instead of answering with his own primal roar, Nergal kept his head down and led the doctora through a maze of wrecked buildings, blistering-hot steam vents, and past flowing magma. The dragon’s raucous cries shredded Nergal’s nerves as it zigzagged above the village, strafing anything left standing by the quake. Fires burned out of control.

  Still, they pushed on, winding away from the dragon and town, ever in the direction of the cave. Nergal limped as fast as he could, bolstered by the doctora. She had apparently decided he was safer than the magma, the rabid crowd, and the vengeful dragon. Which was a good thing. He needed her help.

  They reached the first steep hummock, and Nergal slumped to the ground. They weren’t safe yet, but he had to rest. Behind them, the dragon flew back and forth over the outskirts of Agartha. The villagers scrabbled to escape its fiery attack, hiding in ruins that were already scorched.

  The stench of burnt flesh and sulfur fouled air already thick with smoke, making it difficult to breathe. Nergal calculated the distance to the cave. They would have to hide until his strength returned. It had been hard enough coming down. With his energy depleted, he was no match for the grueling climb.

  “Come. You can make it.” The first words the doctora had spoken were delivered in a rolling accent like none Nergal had heard.

  He looked at her closely. Her pupils were violet, a vivid shade that sent a shockwave through him. Nergal glanced back toward the city.

  Few of the high-rise buildings were left standing, and the firedrake had passed from sight, though its eerie screech echoed through the valley.

  With the doctora’s help, Nergal stood on legs that begged to give out. He leaned heavily on the small, but seemingly strong Draca. When the climb proved too difficult, they scrabbled up the rest of the hill lizard-style. They rested briefly at the top, then slid down on their backsides, grinding to a stop by a stand of trees.

  It was quieter here and though the ground trembled, the rumble was no longer deafening. The dragon’s cry had gone silent. Nergal dragged himself up by an exposed tree root and directed the doctora through the trees to the next set of hillocks.

  **

  Patty thrashed about in her bed, unable to escape the dream. In it, she fell to the ground, exhausted. Pain shivved through her, but the lizard-doctor urged her to rise and climb. At the limits of her endurance, she gritted her pointed teeth and dragged herself up with the doctora’s help.

  Or as close to upright as she could get. Her back screamed bloody murder and the high-pitched roar of some frightful air-beast nearly buckled her knees again. The doctora clutched at her scaled arm, then crooked it over her shoulders, supporting and half-dragging Patty up the rise.

  Only her name was Nergal. And she was badly injured and close to death. The air stank of burning flesh and brimstone. Was it her wounds she smelled? Or something even worse?

  She labored up one hill and down another, half-conscious, and half-delirious. The doctora drove her on, coaxing, haranguing, and cheering her efforts. Without her, and possibly even with, Nergal-Patty knew he wasn’t long for this world.

  But he made it up and over every hill. They eventually found themselves at a nearly-invisible entrance, the approach to the cave he had discovered two days earlier. They navigated the winding entry, and the doctora rolled the boulder into place, sealing the world outside.

  Patty woke with a start and shuddered. She was covered in sweat, her sheets drenched. The dream had been real, so real she could smell the sulfur and burning flesh and hear the explosions and dragon-roar. She wrapped her arms around her shoulders and stared at the ceiling. Why did she keep dreaming she was a monster?

  Dragon’s Lair

  Emily stretched and yawned in a luxurious bed so huge it could’ve been made for a giant. So it hadn’t been a dream. She peered about anxiously. The dimmed torches softened the cave so that it appeared almost homey. Almost.

  Scooting to the edge, she slung her legs over the side of the bed, and a blast of cold air curled around her. The dragon slid through an opening she hadn’t noticed before.

  “What time is it?” Emily asked through a yawn.

  Talav stared and blinked her leathery eyelids. “There is no time in the Underworld, deary. Not as humans know time.”

  “The Underworld?” Emily hugged herself, shivering. “That’s a real thing?”

  “Of course it’s real. You’re in it now, aren’t you?”

  Scrubbing her face in her hands, Emily shuddered and wished she could wake up at Wren’s Roost in her own bed. But when she opened her eyes, Talav’s enormous head hung over her.

  Emily dragged the thick comforter around her shoulders and stared back at the dragon. “Or I’m in a cave. As far as I know, the Underworld is a myth found in legends and fairy tales.”

  “Of course, little wren. Truth too difficult to understand is presented to the uninitiated as myth. But the truth it remains, nonetheless.”

  This just kept getting better. “Hey, you put me to sleep last night.”

  “Your point?”

  “I was asking about my father and friends. You cold-cocked me with your dragon juju.


  “Hmm…”

  Emily stuck her fingers in her ears, determined not to be manipulated again. “Don’t you dare.”

  Talav laughed. It was a pretty sound, like a rainbow arcing across a meadow. It bounced around the room, echoing from one rounded wall to another.

  Despite her annoyance, Emily chuckled. “Don’t handle me.”

  The dragon reared. “I’m doing nothing of the sort. The giddiness and tricksies are common side effects of interacting with a dragon. They will pass once you have time to adjust. Most never get to even see a dragon. If they do, they don’t remember. But you, Awen. You are different.”

  “How so?”

  “Like us, you were here when Earth was divided, when humans were given dominion over the land and the lizard-men that of inner Earth.” Emily sucked in a sharp breath. “It was you who insisted the Federation allow the dragons to patrol Earth’s borders and keep the reptilians separate and humans safe. You, Awen, have been, and ever will be, the Keeper of the Kingdoms and our Dragon Master.”

  “The Keeper of Kingdoms?” Emily’s head reeled. “Dragon Master?” This was all too surreal to comprehend. She leaned forward and waited for her equilibrium to settle. Talav eyed her with compassion and a touch of sadness.

  Emily held her head and pushed through the wooziness. “You would have me believe that there is a race of reptilian beings living inside Earth and that dragons roam freely? Explain yourself. How could humans not know about this?”

  “It would be easier to show you.” The dragon extended its gemmed forearm to touch Emily’s head with the back of a claw. Emily shrank away, not certain she wanted to be coupled in some mind-meld with a tricksy dragon. She thrust out her chin.

  “Will it hurt?”

  Talav wagged her giant head and guffawed, a ratcheting, yet lilting and ethereal sound that escaped her sharp teeth and lifted the melancholy within the chamber.

  “Are you ready?” The dragon asked.

  Emily propped against the massive headboard. “What should I do?”

  “Just relax and enjoy the ride.”

  “Ride?” Emily jerked upright. “Where are we going?”

  “It’s a figure of speech, deary.”

  She was still reeling from Talav’s news and that “Keeper of the Kingdoms” thing. But her tension eased. “How long did you say you’ve been down here? That’s a fairly new phrase.”

  “Eons. But I’ve been searching for you for four years. I learned the new idioms. You know,” Talav muttered, “I think I’ll answer your questions in reverse order. Let me show you what I found, what incited me to shake the earth to reach you.”

  “What?” Emily gasped. “You caused that earthquake? My father and friends could be dead because of you. And all of Atlanta could have been annihilated.”

  The dragon hung its head. “You don’t know that. You lived. I’m sure they did, too.”

  Emily stomped the bed angrily. “I was lucky, Talav. And you found me, making me doubly lucky. If you killed them, I swear I’ll—” She let go an exasperated breath, unable to think of a threat the dragon would heed.

  Talav watched, lips pursed.

  “So did you?” Emily wailed. “Did you cause the earthquake?”

  “Not on purpose, little wren. It was for your own good. And that of the planet.”

  In her mind’s eye, Emily saw the gorilla tumbling into the abyss. She heard the cries of the dying birds and animals. “Of all the self-absorbed, irresponsible things. People were hurt, Talav. Maybe even killed. Plus, all those animals. Dammit, dammit, dammit!” Wiping the tears from her eyes, she glowered at the dragon. “I insist you find and rescue my friends. If you don’t, I will never speak to you again.”

  Talav’s head snapped up, shame melting into indignation. “You are perfectly capable of finding them yourself, Awen. You don’t need me for that. Now, stop wasting the precious time we have left and let me show you what we’re up against.”

  Emily returned the dragon’s piercing gaze, anger shimmering hot within her. “No. I do not trust you. I will not let you inside my head. Am I, or am I not, the Dragon Master? I command you to rescue my friends.”

  Talav snorted and slapped her tail against the wall. Pebbles dislodged and rattled to the floor “Good try. But that’s not how it works. I answer to the Awen’s power. Try again once you’ve taken up her mantle.”

  Score one for the dragon. No, make that two. Emily gave Talav a grudging nod. “Then tell me how to do it myself.”

  Talav eyed Emily sideways. “After my news.”

  Home Again

  Lugh’s clothes were ripped and reeked of catastrophe. Why hadn’t he thought to give someone a key so they could fetch him clean ones? Putting them on made his stomach queasy. When the congealed blood smeared on the back of his hand, he gagged and almost threw up. Which sent excruciating pain through his head.

  He waited for it to pass, then tucked in his shirt and tossed the shredded jacket aside. He hoped it wasn’t too cold out there. In his pants pocket, he found his keys and wallet. He’d ask Mitch to run him by the zoo for his SUV. Assuming the attorney ever got done talking to Finn.

  But Mitch immediately nixed his idea, arguing that Lugh was in no shape to drive. Doctor’s orders. On the short ride home, Lugh stewed in silence, pondering his next move. His mother’s face popped in his head and he decided he would ask his parents’ ghosts.

  He sagged against the leather seat and hummed a few bars of the rock song playing on the high-end stereo. Mitch reached over and turned up the volume. Rolling his eyes, Lugh sang the words, wishing for one vulnerable moment they could be friends again.

  When Mitch’s slightly off-key alto joined in, Lugh grinned. For the first time since high school, they shared a companionable moment. But soon they were in Lugh’s driveway and Mitch was helping him climb the front steps.

  It seemed an eternity since Lugh had left, angry at his nephew and dog for ruining his first date with Emily Hester. He limped through the too-quiet house, thinking about Cu. He’d been a pain in Lugh’s butt and pocketbook, but the wolfhound was part of the family. When Hamilton was dying, Cu had offered his body as a vehicle for Ham’s spirit. They had coexisted inside Cu until the earthquake. The wolfhound deserved a proper druid burial.

  Lugh sank to the bed. Had he locked the front door? Surely he must have. And he was so thirsty. Was it the medicine?

  Groaning, he held his head between his hands and with a gargantuan effort, stood to shuffle to the hall. Then changed his mind. Kicking off his tennis shoes, Lugh climbed into bed, nasty clothes and all, beyond caring about anything as mundane as dirty sheets.

  His heart pounded in both ears, especially the left. Which, oddly enough, was the side opposite the injury. Worming his way beneath the covers, he listened to his heartbeat settle into a strong, reassuring, steady rhythm.

  Lugh fell into a restless sleep in which he wandered Zoo Atlanta searching for his companions and trying to explain to Jake and Cybele that their only son, the nephew they’d entrusted to Lugh’s care, was likely dead.

  A New Obsession

  Shalane detoured from her route to the Fox Theater and followed the rental car’s GPS to the last location she’d entered the day before. She wound through busy streets and turned into an older, upper-class neighborhood. It all looked familiar, but she had no recollection of having driven this way.

  She turned down a street called Wren’s Way, but there was no house where the GPS indicated. Making a U-turn, she traversed the lane again, with no better luck. Still, the forest seemed vaguely familiar. She followed it for a while, then turned right, pulling over to let an impatient driver pass. A park appeared ahead. Deepdene Park, according to a directional sign.

  Now that she remembered. She idled along beside it, ignoring the line of cars honking behind her. Pulling into the steep driveway where she’d found her car yesterday, she made sure to engage the emergency brake.

  Climbing out, she crossed to the park and followed
the trail to the woods. Nodding to a line of joggers, Shalane walked a short way to the clearing. Near a granite boulder, she found the bench.

  Sitting, she stretched her arms along the back. It was peaceful here. Even the noise from the street seemed faint and far away, and she could hear the tinkle of a nearby stream. Shalane closed her eyes and took three long, deep breaths. She let her mind empty, then sat quietly, waiting for the memory to unfold.

  The woman with shocking-red hair had been here, and they had argued. An exquisite pain squeezed Shalane’s heart. Tears poured from her closed eyes, but she fought to stay with the meditation. The fog cleared and she could see a face. Ebby Panera, though her hair was different. And she knew magic.

  Shalane’s eyes flew open. She remembered Ebby, or at least her face. But something important loomed close, receded, then was gone. The woman did mean something to Shalane. Only what? And why the hell couldn’t she remember?

  She hadn’t been drinking, so it wasn’t a blackout. And her memory of Ebby went back to California. Only the particulars weren’t there.

  Frustrated, she walked back to the car. What could Ebby Panera have meant to her? From the ache in her heart, it must’ve been big.

  **

  A mob milled in front of the Fox Theater.

  “Is that for me?” Shalane wondered aloud. Her crew had arrived early and was inside getting ready for her opening performance.

  Settling her soda in the cup holder, she belched and rolled down the window to peer anxiously at the gathering crowd. They held signs and jostled one another, vying for space on the densely-packed sidewalk. How was her audience supposed to get in for the show? Anger licked at Shalane’s gut.

  “They can shove those signs up their tight asses.”

  She sent a quick text to Cecil demanding that he have the cops remove the offenders, and contemplated pulling to the curb to give the milling hicks a piece of her mind. A mental picture of being swarmed and kicked to death made her dismiss the idea.