Shadowrun 01 - Never Deal With A Dragon (28 page)

In the far distance beyond the compound, Sam could see a few tall spires of Elven design. Those would be the palatial residences of the ruling powers of the Tir. He knew that past those rambling estates and their woods lay Royal Hill, the mound said to be magically created, on which sat the Tir Tairngire capitol, a magnificent complex that was the working office and home of the High Prince. The estates surrounding Royal Hill were the property of the other princes and chosen councilors. It was a very exclusive neighborhood, and Dodger's friend, with his blatantly illegal property, was likely a resident of high standing.

"You didn't tell me that you had these kinds of connections, Dodger."

"I would prefer to term it an acquaintance rather than a connection, Sir Twist."

"Whatever. If you had told me, I would have been less reluctant to come. At least I could have dressed better."

" 'Tis unlikely that we will be treated as formal guests." Dodger led the way to the gatehouse. He pulled up short as a figure stepped from the doorway.

"What makes you think that you'll be
any
kind of guest, Alley Runner?"

The speaker was tall, even for an Elf. His close-cropped raven hair and eyebrows contrasted sharply with his pale skin and eyes of glacial blue. His business suit and accessories were all of solid, middle-manager quality, and though well-tailored, seemed out of place on him. There was something about the Elf that was at once hard-bitten and romantic. Sam pictured him in full armor, its shine scuffed and dented with hard use. Maybe it was the set of his jaw, the impasssive expression, or the warily narrowed eyes.

"
Avaunt
, Estios. We've no business with you."

"If you want to see the professor, you do."

Dodger looked annoyed and seemed about to launch a retort. Then he shrugged in acceptance of something inevitable. He unholstered his pistol and handed it butt-first to Estios.

Estios smiled coldly as he received the weapon. He turned and re-entered the gatehouse, leaving Sam and Dodger to follow. Once inside, he led them past the reception counter without stopping. The crisply uniformed Knight Errant security staffer never said a word as the three men paced across his domain and through an ornate arch into a back room.

The inner chamber was sparsely furnished and dimly lit. Behind a clear panel that separated the room into two halves, an Ork in a white lab coat sat at a console. Her features were lit with the gray glow of the screens she monitored, making her expression grimmer and more inhuman than it might otherwise appear. Behind her stood a Dwarf. He was broader that she, but barely topped her in height even though she was seated. He wore an elaborate amulet on a heavy chain around his neck and the lapels of his jacket were studded with arcane symbols. The Dwarf mage leaned against the wall. Like Sato's mage, he seemed to be spending his duty time dozing. Sam wondered what made magicians so indispensable that they could sleep on company time and get away with it.

In one corner of their side of the partition lay a large white hound. It opened its eyes lazily when they entered the room but otherwise remained motionless. Sam realized with a start that it was no ordinary dog. Its faintly reflecting eyes revealed it as a paranimal and its scent was familiar, though he had only encountered one once. The beast was Barghest like the one that had attacked Tsung. As soon as he realized it was unchained, Sam retreated to the archway, fearing an attack. To his embarrassment, neither Estios nor Dodger showed any reaction to the Barghest. All they did was turn to look at him as though he were an idiot. Sam straightened out of the defensive crouch he had reflexively assumed and forced a smile. So, maybe it wasn't dangerous. How was he supposed to know? It would probably still try to tear out his throat if Estios told it to.

Estios placed Dodger's gun on a table and held out his hand. Dodger removed another, much smaller, gun from his boot and handed it over. He slipped the chain that he wore for a belt from around his waist and took a flat metal case from one pocket, passing both to the dark-haired Elf. Estios tapped hm on the right forearm.

"It is integral."

"You'll wear a disabler." It was not a question.

"I have no hostile intent. My word has always been good enough for the professor. Is it less with you?"

"There are other considerations today."

"Look," Sam interrupted, beginning to get annoyed at Dodger's treatment, "we're not here to cause trouble. I was told that our visit might be of some interest to your professor. If that's too inconvenient for you, tough. We don't need your storm trooper act. We can leave."

Estios seemed to see Sam for the first time. "A real Griffin. Will you vouch for Dodger's good behavior?"

"Sure."

"On your life?"

Sam's answer was a little slower in coming, but he surprised himself with the conviction in his voice. "Yes."

"Sir Twist is here at my insistence, Estios. He need not take your oaths."

"He already has, Alley Runner."

"I shall wear your disabler."

"No, you won't," Sam insisted. "Those things can scramble circuits permanently. It's too big a risk, Dodger, and I won't let you take it just to have a chat about my headaches."

"Do you understand what you're doing?" Dodger asked softly.

"Sure," Sam lied.

The look in Dodger's eyes told Sam that the Elf might not really believe him, but was accepting his word. Dodger flashed him a smile that held thanks and an unexpected comradeship. "Good enough for you, Estios?"

"It'll do," he said with a shrug. He pointed to the chromium steel fitting on Sam's temple. "What kind of headware do you have?" His voice indicated that he expected Sam to give a prompt, complete, and accurate answer.

"A datajack."

Estios turned his head to the technician, who nodded. Her voice rasped through the speaker. "Consistent with the scans."

"Aren't you going to search me for weapons?"

Estios's face held just a hint of contempt. "No need. You've been scanned quite thoroughly. Let's go."

Estios led them through a door and down a corridor. He opened another door and they emerged outside. A rank of small electric carts stood arrayed against the wall. Estios waved at the first one and walked around it to climb into the driver's seat. He barely gave them time to take a seat before engaging the drive. Gravel spewed as he turned the cart onto the path leading to the mansion.

As they approached, Sam could see that it was more of a manor house than a mansion. Stone walls complete with gargoyles faced the world to protect the interior from intruders. It looked like something out of a fairy tale. Such architecture seemed only appropriate here in Tir Tairngire.

Estios pulled the cart to a stop at the foot of the steps leading to the main entrance. Without a word, he got out of the vehicle and walked up the steps. When they joined him at the top, he opened the door and ushered them into a lobby of tiled floors and half-paneled walls. Estios led them through opulent rooms furnished with antiques and fine artworks, coming finally to a large room lined with bookshelves. A blackened fireplace stood in the center of one wall, framed by ornate woodcarvings. Another whole wall consisted of windows quaintly divided into small panels. Sam suspected that they were real glass. The view of shrubbery through the windows indicated that the three of them had passed through the house to the back.

"Wait here," Estios ordered as he opened a door incorporated into the window structure. As soon as he had exited and disappeared around the hedge, Sam stepped up to the windows. He was curious to see if he could gauge how far the estate extended beyond the city limits.

All thoughts of geographical extent vanished the moment he saw the Dragon. The beast sat on its haunches, forelimbs holding its chest above the manicured lawn. Sam knew it at once for a Western Dragon, for its huge wings were unmistakable even though folded against its flank. The great head was majestically horned and longer than any of the people gathered about it. Its scales glittered gold in the sunshine.

The crowd of Humans and Metahumans arrayed around the Dragon was divided into three parties. All the normal Humans, a pair of Dwarfs, and a large, furred humanoid stood to the beast's right, spread out between it and a quad-engined VTOL whose insignia appeared to be a portrait of the Dragon's own silhouette. The rest, mostly Elves, stood in a ragged, divided semicircle in front of the Dragon. One Elven contingent was aligned behind a red-headed Elf, the other behind a blond. From the blond's gestures, he was clearly making a passionate address to the Dragon. The beast seemed unperturbed.

Estios approached the red-head's group and whispered in the leaders' ear. The Elf cast a quick glance at the house before nodding and saying something. Estios gave a curt acknowledgement and walked to the back of the clump.

Our host, the mysterious Professor Laverty
, Sam concluded. The Elf was lanky, not as tall as Estios, but still overtopping Dodger. The curly red hair and fair skin were easily visible, but distance masked the color of his eyes. From the Elf's calm demeanor, Sam expected that they would be discerning, imperturbable eyes. Whatever their color, it would be difficult to conceal anything from those eyes. Sam hoped that Dodger was right in bringing him here.

His gaze drifted across the other group of Elves, stopping suddenly on one familiar face. After a moment of shock, he checked the others and recognized a second face. Fear jolted him and for a moment he was running through the forest, hopeless and lost. He felt hunted again.

"We can't go out there." The words were barely audible; his throat was too dry.

"Nervous about meeting the quality? Or is it the Dragon?"

"No, that's not it. That red-headed Elf with the cape is the guy who tried to flash-fry me in the forest. The small dark one next to him is the tracker."

"What?" Dodger moved to his side and stared at the figures Sam indicated. "Frag it! That redhead is Rory Donally and the other is Bran Glendower. They're two of Ehran's paladins. That whole squad was probably his crew. You're right. We can't go out there."

"But I thought that we got hit by the border patrol."

"They ride the border sometimes. When they think something's in it for them or their master."

"Ehran, you mean?"

Dodger nodded in affirmation as he stared out the window.

"Ehran? As in Ehran the Scribe?"

"You know of another?" he replied abstractedly.

"I read his
Mankind Ascendant
. It didn't make much sense."

Dodger turned and gave him a wry grin. "That's the right Ehran. He is the blond Elf who looks so fond of his own argument."

"This doesn't make sense, either. I thought he was some kind of scientific populist writer. What's he doing here?"

"From the looks of that conference, it must be council business."

"Huh?"

"Sir Twist, your astute commentary ill becomes you. I realize that not all of Ehran's activities are common knowledge, but . . . surely, given where you are and what you see, you must have realized that, like our host, he is a member of the ruling council of Tir Tairngire."

Sam hadn't made any such connection. Seeing the house and grounds, he had surmised that this Professor Laverty had some influence. But a member of the council! That was beyond reasonable expectations. How did Dodger come to have connections with such a person? And why did he think that Sam might be of interest to this professor? Sam's stomach lurched as it had when the elevator cable in his Mitsubishi Flutterer had snapped. There had been a yawning chasm below him and he had been nearly out of control. He hadn't panicked then. Well, not too much anyway, and had managed to fight the craft to a relatively safe landing. He'd find a way out of this disaster, too.

While Sam fought his panic, the meeting outside drew to a close. The Dragon launched itself into the air, circling while its attendants boarded their craft. The aircraft rose to join the Dragon and both flew away to the north. The two groups of Elves merged and headed for the house. Upon reaching the patio, Laverty and Ehran split from their followers and headed for the salon.

"We've got to get out of sight," Sam said. He turned to find Dodger standing by the fireplace, hand on the carved mantel. A dark space opened in the wall beside the stonework.

"In here."

Sam stared dubiously into the darkness. "It's a secret passage."

"Of course. All well-designed houses have them."

"But how did you know about it?"

" 'Tis a secret." To Sam's disgruntled expression, he added, "All well-brought-up Elves have them, too. Adds to the mystique. Now, get in here and be quiet."

The entrance to their hiding place barely closed before they heard the latch of the outer door. Then they heard the voices of the Elves as they entered the room.

". . . well enough, I think. His advisors were cowed even if your histrionics made little impression on him."

"Your observations are faulty as usual, Laverty. The worm was suitably impressed. You know that they don't display emotion as we do. It has to do with the lack of facial musculature and general structure of the skull. I must add, though, that over time I have learned to discern certain variances of reptilian physiognomy and characteristic head positions that show distinct correlations with understandable emotional states."

"Thank you for the lesson, Ehran." Laverty's voice was cold. "I have had some experience with his kind."

"One should always have a care to respect one's elders, Laverty." Ehran laughed. "I am reminded of a sage piece of wisdom I once encountered emblazoned on a wall in a burned-out alley. Lengthy for its type, but containing certain truths. It went something like, 'Watch your back, conserve ammo, and never cut a deal with a Dragon."

"And you find that applicable to our current endeavors?"

"Let us say that I find it suggestive. I would be happy to stay and elucidate, but I have pressing matters to attend to before the others arrive. It was kind of you to host this meeting."

"It seemed the most expeditious way."