Plight of the Dragon (31 page)

Talia tapped his shoulder, and the darkness within him leaped forward, snapped at her fingers. He sensed her back away.
 

A crack of the ice. Sebastian ignored that too, his focus honed.
 

“Sebastian.” Kyra’s voice washed over him, tugging at his calm and unknotting his madness. She had returned to him, risen again from the frozen lake. “This is not who you are.” Her hand soothed down his arm, causing him to blink and release the darkness. Marcus dropped to the ice with a
crunck
.
 

Sebastian’s ears rang, and his gut dropped like a weight. He looked away from the destruction he had caused, sought comfort in Kyra’s eyes. “I couldn’t...” He sighed. “I was just so…” He paused again and stared deep into her eyes. “I did it for you. He makes me so mad.”

Kyra smiled. “And you were always the calm and sensible one.” Her hand caressed the side of his face. “Don’t darken your soul with an ugly deed for me. I love you as you are.”

“I don’t have a soul to darken.”

“To feel as deeply as you do, to put yourself through all that you have for me, there’s no way you don’t have a soul.”

Marcus chortled. “So touching.” He stood up. “Too bad you didn’t have the guts to finish what you started. Guess I’ll have to finish it for you.”

“You can try,” Kyra countered.

 
Another crack and splash.
 

Several yards off to their side, changes in the frozen surface were affecting another fight. Queen Shui’s tail flopped in the water. The ground at her feet had broken into countless pieces, then returned to a liquid state and dropped her into the lake as it had Kyra minutes before. The ice beneath Anguis and Bolsvck shifted. In a flurry of flaps, they took to flight and fight and floundered, moving chaotically toward Marcus, Kyra, and Sebastian.
 

“Things are about to escalate,” Sebastian said.
 

“That’s what I tried to tell you,” Talia quipped.

Without a glance, Kyra swung her arm around like she was tossing a Skee-Ball at Marcus. Wind swept down from the heavens in a frenzy, dropping behind and swinging down beneath them, scooping up Valentine in its path. The current carried her like a cannon through the air.

“What have you done?” Sebastian said, his entire body tensing, fighting the desire to lunge after Valentine. Save Kyra any future regret should Valentine get hurt, or worse.

“She’ll be fine—” Kyra’s eyes widened.
 

Bolsvck and Anguis, consumed in battle, tumbled into Marcus one beat before Valentine plowed into them—or through them—and all three turned into a swirling bubble of vortex. Pulled and sucked into another-land by way of distortion, until there was nothing but Valentine kneeling on the broken ice.
 

Kyra’s sister spiraled into the sky and roared, raining sorrow from the skies. Queen Shui thrashed in the water, an inconsolable sound venting from her dragon. Nearby dragons joined the ballad, and the water oozed heartache, while the heavens bled mourning.

41

AMBASSADORS

Sebastian

“My father. What
have I done?” Kyra stood motionless, the frozen embodiment of disbelief.

Sebastian threaded his fingers between hers. “You couldn’t have known your father would get in the way. At least he’s not dead. Just sent somewhere unknown.” Internally, his chest sank.
 

Outwardly, he began to actually sink, along with everyone else standing upon the frozen surface. The magic of Anguis the Ancient had been spiraled away, and with it, the ice. Sebastian and Kyra fell into the lake.

Talia and Valentine splashed and coughed, but Sebastian could see they would be okay. Queen Shui and Keahi had come to their aid.
 

Kyra wrapped her arms around him and dropped her head against his chest. He’d ached for this moment, but for it to happen this way was wrong. He held her tight, and they slowly sank farther in the water. Nothing he could do would take away the pain she felt, but he could be there for her now, and maybe that would suffice.
 

“You’re a fool.” Mortifier grabbed Sebastian by the collar and, in a flash of wind and water, whisked him away from Kyra into a mad dart until they stood upon the shore, dry and unrumpled, as if nothing had happened.
 

Kyra had burst into her Moorigad and taken to the sky. When Sebastian came to a standstill, she was already circling above the carnival.
 

Sebastian yanked free of Mortifier. “I’m the fool?” His voice rose to an accusatory pitch, and he glared at his father, then at the line of Reapers beyond him. Their numbers were dwindling. One Reaper, then three Reapers, all vanishing, leaving the carnival in theatrical puffs of smoke.
 

“You mess with things you don’t fully understand yet.” Mortifier shook his head, then motioned to his remaining men. One of them, Mr. Johnson, had a strong hold on an unhappy Davies. “We’re not here for the entertainment, boy. We have a job to do.”

Sebastian rolled his shoulders. “I get that, but—”

Mortifier halted him with a sharp snap of a finger. “I don’t think you do. From the very start, you were tasked with the reaping of Balidhug, or Marcus Blackall, whatever you want to call him. And yet, you’ve failed time and time again.” His shoulders sagged. “And the ancient—The first Moorigad…” He shook his head in silence. “You never should have talked to him.”

“Okay.” Sebastian waved his hand between them. “I’ve listened to enough of your bullshit. Now you’re going to listen to me.”
 

Mortifier raised a brow, but said nothing.
 

“You may have planned out the anomaly that I am, but that doesn’t mean you get to control me. And the same goes for everyone else across the worlds.” He motioned to the people gathering onshore—the dragons, Talia and Valentine, the patrons and Zeke (sitting humbly on his usual bench). “You don’t control any of them. So if they do something that affects your collection list, changes the names or even scratches some out, you need to let it go.”
 

“You don’t tell me what to do.” Mortifier narrowed his stare and stood straight, peering an inch down upon Sebastian.
 

“I’m not telling you what to do. I’m telling you how it is.” Sebastian cocked his head to the side. “Fate is fate, but you need to let the course of events play out as they will.” He pulled Alice’s pendant from his pocket and gazed at it. “What happened out there,” Sebastian pointed to the lake, “I didn’t manipulate any of that.” An image of him killing Marcus popped into his head. He blinked it away. It wasn’t him. He wouldn’t allow it to be him. “I simply rolled with what was taking place. It was others, people not in the know about your
precious list
, who changed the outcome.”
 

He glanced at Talia and Valentine, and grinned. Of course, it was Kyra who had really made the difference by saving Marcus, just like she had in the beginning when she had pulled him from the water, and Sebastian loved her a thousandfold more for her actions. Instead of killing Marcus, she had sent him away. She’d reminded him life was precious. Not just a few select lives, but every life, no matter how shady they appear to others. He clutched the pendant tight. Kyra would forever stand as his reminder to be the better man, the better Reaper.
 

Kyra landed in an open area near the entrance portal, shook free of her dragon form, and walked toward them. He couldn’t help but grin at her approach.
 

“It looks to me like you have your priorities all in a twist,” Mortifier said.
 

Sebastian blinked. He’d lost track of what he’d been saying, distracted by his girl. He snapped back to his father. “My priorities are exactly where they should be.”

Mortifier shoved his hands in his pants pockets and pondered his son for a breath or two. “You’re a Reaper. You can’t escape what you are, Sebastian.”

Sebastian waggled his finger at his dad. “Correction. Half Reaper. I’m not anything you’re familiar with, so you shouldn’t try to fit me into your Reaper mold.” He glanced at Kyra. She smiled, encouraging him to continue, yet there was no denying the tang of sadness in her eyes. “I have a better handle on what I am and what I’m now capable of. Don’t push me on this.”

Mortifier grunted. “You think you can pave your own path? Make your own rules?”

“Not at all.” Sebastian smirked. “I’m simply going to follow the course and see where it leads. I’m not going to control events or people’s actions to determine who lives or dies.” He gazed at the pendant again. “I’ll leave that to a higher power. One higher than you.”

“That’s not how it works,” Mortifier said.

 
“Are you sure about that?” Sebastian held the pendant up for his father to see. “She wasn’t a victim of circumstance. You murdered her, plain and simple.” He tossed the pendant at his father. Mortifier made no move to catch it. The necklace fell to the ground at the Grim’s feet. “I’ve seen the damage you’ve done, exploiting and engineering individual fates. I can’t believe that’s the way it’s meant to be. We’re ambassadors, not directors, and you’ve been meddling. What you did—working with Davies, stealing Marcus’s dragon, sending him to Purgatory for all those years on the chance of avoiding a supposed destiny…Well, that may have actually
created
that very destiny by turning Marcus into the monster he is now. So no more. No more manipulation.” Sebastian kept an unwavering watch on his father.
 

Mortifier’s face showed deep contemplation one minute and pulled into a snide grin the next. “We shall see how it all plays out.” Crow’s feet spread from the corners of his eyes as his smile stretched across his face. Behind him, Reaper after Reaper disappeared, until there was only Mortifier and Mr. Johnson, with his hand clenched firmly on Davies.
 

“What are you planning on doing with him?” Sebastian asked.
 

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with. He and I are overdue for a little chat is all. You know, regarding all that stuff that has your sickle stuck in the mud.” Mortifier turned to leave.

Sebastian frowned. He didn’t trust his father, but it was clear a ton of debris had piled up between Davies and his father. Debris that needed to be sifted through.
 

Kyra now stood beside him, her gentle hand finding a home in his palm. She whispered at his ear, “We’ve done a lot of good today.” Yes, they had. Some good. And some bad. But the good outweighed the bad. He squeezed her hand, thankful for her reminder.
 

Mortifier took ahold of Davies’s free arm and looked back at Sebastian. “We’re not finished. You’ll be seeing me again.” With that, Mortifier, Mr. Johnson, and Davies vanished.
 

Sebastian’s frown deepened. Mortifier’s parting had sounded eerily similar to the Mara’s. He rubbed the back of his neck and stared at the empty space where his father had been standing moments ago.

“Hey, look what we found.” The call came from their right.
 

Several yards from the lake, Drakhögg and Ryhuu marched through the carnival’s main archway of lights, two prisoners in their hold. All four men resembled an amateur knife-thrower’s spinning board. Cut, battered, and blood-stained. “Those are Marcus’s men,” Kyra said. “I recognize them. Rick and Darren.” The men glared at her, and Darren spit at Ryhuu’s feet. Ryhuu didn’t respond. “Marcus is gone, boys,” Kyra said. “Time to give up the fight.”

“Marcus is gone?” Drakhögg said. “Damn. I missed a lot.” His forehead crinkled. “A man takes a few minutes to recover, and the whole damn show ends without him.” His face crumpled into a scowl.
 

Kyra huffed, and Sebastian squeezed her hand. “Last I saw of either of you, you were running away,” Kyra said.

Ryhuu stood a tad taller. “I cannot speak for Drakhögg, but my actions are unforgivable. Once we were within the confines of the carnival, I realized my mistake. When I saw these two,” he motioned to the prisoners, “I enlisted Drakhögg to help do some good to atone for our error.”

Kyra rolled her eyes, looked away.

Dragons began to gather on the shore, wandering in from all directions. It was the low after an enormous event. Or catastrophe, however you chose to view it. Queen Shui and Keahi were organizing their returning clans. Talia and Valentine had slipped away during Sebastian’s argument with his father.
 

Despite, or maybe because of, the way things had unfolded, Sebastian harbored a hallow pitch in his gut. He still wanted answers, wanted to understand the why behind everything. Giving Kyra a gentle tug to follow, he moved away from the beastly crowd, his destination, an old man sitting on a red bench.

42