Backyard Dragons (17 page)

Unseen force pushed against Claire’s belly. The dizziness receded as power enveloped her body and pushed her up to sit. It faded away, allowing her to brace herself on the wall and stand.

Anne’s eyes glowed again, and she clutched her bright green crystal.

When Claire lunged to attack, she staggered and hit the wall instead.

“Tsk.” Anne smirked. “Be good, or I’ll make you barf again.”

“Is this what witches do? Mess with teenagers?” Claire turned and stumbled to the front door, her limbs wooden and clumsy.

“Oh, most of us make our gardens greener or houses brighter. You know, boring stuff. If you’ve got the talent to manipulate people, though, why
not
do it?”

Claire had no illusions about how a meeting with Kurt would go, especially without her dagger. He’d either kill her or grind her under his heel. She suspected he could taint her without too much effort, though she didn’t know what that entailed. Anne wouldn’t let her go, so she’d have to find a way to make her own opportunity.

Testing the limits of her ability to move, she staggered into the wall. She lurched to the side and hit a tree, banging her shoulder, tripping over a root, and landing on her face.

“You’re pathetic,” Anne said with an annoyed sigh. “You think you can play in the big leagues with the adults, but you can’t. You’re just a little girl with a knife.”

“At least I’m not trying to destroy everything.” Claire wobbled to her hands and knees, feigning more weakness than she felt.

“Listen to yourself! Has Justin fed you the Knight baloney? About how they’re all here to protect the world from spirits? Honey, Knights
are
the spirits. Without Knights, there would be no spirits.”

“What if you’re wrong?” The force around Claire loosened. Distracting Anne with this conversation was working.

“Wrong?” Anne sighed, the sound sad and pitying. “Which is better? A bunch of arrogant, egotistical men riding around on spirits to save us from their own dead comrades, or the occasional true ghost story? Without them here to make powerful ghosts, there would be nothing but a random sprinkling of creatures mutated by ambient magic. Like dragons, for example.”

Claire sprang with every ounce of strength she had. Anne gasped in surprise and dropped the dagger to raise her hands. Too fast for Anne, Claire punched her in the face. Anne’s head snapped to the side. Her glasses flew across the yard. Still fighting nausea, Claire kneed her in the gut and brought her elbows down on Anne’s back. Dropping with Anne as she fell, Claire slugged her across the jaw one more time for good measure. They landed in a heap.

The dizziness evaporated, as did the nausea. Claire’s stomach still churned, but she didn’t care. She had bigger problems. Anne lay unconscious in the nearby streetlight’s yellow glow and in plain sight of the road. Anyone passing by would see her. Claire grabbed the woman’s arms and dragged her inside. Thinking to use it in place of rope, she snared the giant doily on the back of the couch and dragged Anne deep into the house.

She paused at the smashed door and saw a strange sort of workshop. Plain work tables lined the walls with papers, books, jars, and crystals littering the surfaces. Black slate covered the floor with streaks of colored chalk all over, like it had been erased in a hurry. Whatever Anne had done in here, and Claire suspected it had been about binding the dragons, she’d removed the evidence well enough.

She hauled Anne to the kitchen and tied her wrists to the refrigerator doors. When Claire finished, her belly rumbled with hunger. Though she could still grab something from a cupboard, she didn’t trust anything in this house. Her stomach would have to wait.

She ran outside, scooped up her dagger, and sprinted through the dark for the nearest bus stop. With luck, she’d get there before Justin. He’d been lied to and needed to know it before he broke the Skidmore Fountain seal, no matter what that would do.

Chapter 26

Justin

Frank L. Knight Park turned out to be quite different from Justin’s expectations. He and Tariel gazed up at a nearly vertical tangle of trees and shrubs with no signage, fencing, or paths, illuminated only by the full moon and a single streetlight. The narrow strip of greenery had a condo complex on one side and individual houses on the other. Both streets bordering it seemed to get a fair amount of traffic.

“I’m not going up there,” Tariel said. “I don’t care how fast I can heal. I’m not a mountain goat.”

“Neither am I. Maybe this is a mistake, and I should take the map to Kurt.”

“We’re here. You might as well check. If it turns out to be the right place, then you’ve saved a lot of time.”

Justin blew out a breath, not looking forward to climbing in his condition. They could turn around and leave to get some rest and come back later, but Tariel was right. “Move closer, let me use you to get a boost on this monster hill.” When she’d sidled to the hillside, he grabbed a branch and stepped off. The ground turned out to be several feet below where he thought, and he landed hard.

Grabbing thick branches, he hauled himself to his feet. His ankle felt tender, but it righted itself quickly. “I’m fine,” he called out.

“Is this ‘fine’ the first kind or the second kind?”

He rolled his eyes even though she couldn’t see him. “The first.”

“I’m going across the street. The grass looks tasty.”

“Stay close, please.” Thankfully, the enchantment on Justin’s cloak kept it from catching on all the branches in this wild thicket. He pushed through the undergrowth, using the tall trees for support and taking a zigzag approach to scaling the steep slope. In the near-dark, he saw little detail.

Crunching over vines and deadfall, he strained to see any large rock. It took him two switchbacks before he stumbled over a stone and had to catch himself on a nearby tree. “I could be doing this in daylight,” he growled. After heaving the rock up and over with a grunt, he stabbed the ground beneath it. Nothing happened.

Disappointed but not surprised, he forced himself to continue. Three rocks later, he finally released the power. It lifted him and dropped him. He tumbled down the slope until he slammed into a tree and passed out.

He woke to something small patting his face. When he opened his eyes, he saw flashing blue and red lights playing across silver. The thing on his face perched too close to focus on. With a groan, he reached up and grabbed it. Enion chirped at him. He blinked until his eyes focused on the dragon in his hand. The flashing lights caught the blade of his sword, lying nearby. Though his back hadn’t fully healed yet, he breathed in relief at the knowledge he didn’t have to scale this stupid slope again to retrieve his weapon.

“Is Claire here?”

The dragon chirped and trilled. He also shook his head.

“I can’t understand you like she can, so I don’t need explanations. Is she in trouble?”

Enion chirped again and wriggled. In the poor light, Justin couldn’t tell if the dragon nodded or shook its head. He did catch the tiny foreleg pointing at him, though.

Not sure what the dragon wanted to communicate, he checked around the tree holding him up and saw where the flashing lights came from. Two police cruisers and a van marked
Multnomah County Animal Services
sat on the street below, blocking traffic.

The damned cops always got in the way. Justin scooped up his sword and sheathed it. “Can you take me to Claire?” Enion nodded. “Hide until I get us away from these cops, then lead us to her.”

Enion darted under his cloak. Justin, wincing with every step, half-ran, half-stumbled down the hill to the street. In the middle of the two lane road, two cops directed traffic through the single open lane. The closest officer saw him and made him wait until a few cars went by, then she waved him across with a half-grin.

“I tried to tell these guys it must be yours,” the officer said. “Not too many white horses with silver hooves running around Portland.”

Justin checked behind her and saw two men trying to approach Tariel in the distance, one with a cable loop meant to go over an animal’s neck. “Yes. She was waiting for me while I went looking for something I dropped from above.” In a flash of inspiration, he yanked off his mail glove and showed his plain gold wedding band. “My wife would kill me if I lost it.” He tugged the gauntlet back on.

The cop huffed. “You really shouldn’t leave an unattended horse on the side of the road, even one that seems as smart as yours.”

He cocked a jaunty grin, though it felt drab and tarnished. “My mount is not merely a vulgar horse. She’s a noble steed, a mare without equal.” He’d said these words or ones like them over and over, finding they always worked to wriggle away from the police. He’d clearly said them to this particular cop before. For the first time, though, he delivered them without feeling, without a sense he did it to amuse them as much as to avoid arrest.

“Are you okay?” The officer snatched a flashlight off her belt and clicked it on, shining it on his face.

He turned away from the harsh light and saw the man with the loop throwing it at Tariel’s head. She danced to the side, evading it with a whinny of irritation. They didn’t have time for this. Something had happened to Claire. Justin needed to help her. He raised a hand and thought about smacking that flashlight away, but expected she’d shoot him if he did. Until Tariel got closer, provoking the cop would be stupid. Instead, he swiped his hand through the air to dismiss her.

“Of course I’m fine,” he grumbled.

She raised her hands to placate him. “It’s okay, Sir Knight. Calm down.”

For some reason, her request annoyed him more. He grimaced and turned his back on her. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he called out, “Tariel! I found it, let’s go!” Before he lowered his hands, the cop slapped a handcuff around his wrist. He raised an eyebrow. “Lady, you don’t want to do that.”

“I think maybe you’ve been drinking and need to call it a night, Knight.”

Tariel trumpeted and charged the two men. She dodged the loop and plowed into the man holding it, sending him flying to the side.

The cop yanked on Justin’s arm, twisting him around to force the other cuff on.

Justin’s patience evaporated. He slammed his mail-covered fist into the cop’s gut. She fell to the ground, gasping for air. Justin kicked her in the face. She slumped on her back. The other cop drew his gun.

“Stay where you are and put your hands up!”

Ignoring him, Justin snared the pommel of Tariel’s saddle as she slowed on her way past him and jumped onto her back. He hadn’t done a moving mount in a while, but the muscles all remembered their jobs even if they protested.

The sharp report of a gunshot barely preceded the heavy impact on his back.

Tariel sped until they passed cars in a blur, leaving the mess behind. She slowed as they reached an on-ramp for I-5. “Where to?”

Justin plucked the bullet out of his armor and tossed it aside. Stupid cops. They got so worked up about such stupid things. At least the cloak and armor would repair themselves. The minor bruise had already faded. “Enion, lead us to Claire.”

Enion darted out and landed on Tariel’s head. He pointed across the river.

“Get him off me,” Tariel snapped.

“I don’t need this crap,” Justin groused. “Tariel isn’t your mount, Enion, she’s mine. Fly.”

Chapter 27

Claire

Sitting in a MAX Blue Line light rail car, Claire stared at the window, barely registering the dark scenery sliding past. Beside her, an elderly woman clacked knitting needles together, creating a sweater or blanket from emerald green yarn. The color reminded Claire of Justin. Kurt had obviously tricked him into breaking these seals, whatever they were. She had no trouble believing that could happen. Justin never asked enough questions about anything. Rondy said—

She rubbed her face, trying not to think about Rondy. The train stopped, and people jostled around her. When the commuters settled, she noticed a man with his back to her, gripping the pole as he stood in the aisle. He had long black dreadlocks draped over his navy jacket. Of course he did. The one time she wanted to not think about Rondy, someone came to remind her of him.

With a sigh, she closed her eyes and leaned against the window. She missed Enion too. As useless as he’d been in a fight so far, the infectious power of cute would be a welcome buoy right now. Maybe she wasn’t meant to be a Knight after all. They all dwarfed her by at least half a foot with wrists and necks thicker than her thighs. She’d made a dagger, not a sword. Her sprite couldn’t keep her from having to use the MAX.

If she wasn’t meant to be a Knight, what was she supposed to do? She pondered the question, again wishing she could ask Rondy. Justin might come up with an answer, but Rondy’s would be more useful. She sighed and told herself to stop it. Rondy was dead. She’d killed him.

“You’re not as culpable as you want to believe.”

Claire jerked her head away from the window. Instead of the little old lady, a tall, broad-shouldered black man sat next to her. Between his black dreadlocks and the lack of age in his face, she thought the guy she’d noticed earlier had taken the seat. Then she looked into his soft brown eyes and knew who he must be.

“I’m dreaming.” With this flash of insight, she noticed the rail car had emptied. The two of them sat alone as it bumped along its tracks.

Rondy smiled. “Something like that.”

She didn’t deserve that smile. Eyes burning, she hung her head. “I’m sorry.”

He draped his arm around her shoulders. “When I was young, my family immigrated to America. My father had made a lot of money selling our ancestral lands to a mining company. We moved to a small apartment in Kingston and bad luck befell us at every turn. My grandmother died of sickness, my younger brother had an accident and lost his foot, my father lost sight in one eye from a senseless fight, roaches invaded the apartment, our car got two flat tires at once, and on and on.

“He thought the loa, the spirits of our ancestors, were punishing us for abandoning the land and brought us here in the hopes they wouldn’t be able to chase us across the water. He tried to find a place in Florida, but encountered segregation and decided he didn’t want his children to grow up with that. We kept going north until he picked a town in Ohio where the real estate agent didn’t turn his nose up at him for being black.