Tesser: A Dragon Among Us (A Reemergence Novel) (41 page)

"Yeah. The tree in the yard just got a leaf in the wind that had some kind of message in it. The tree said there was a missing dragon, and it's somewhere north on I-93 and they think it's under the ground near or in an Industrial Park called Silver Birches. Tesser and the crew here are headed north to check it out. Tesser's got red in his eyes, and the last time I saw that everyone got to watch him pretend to be a volcano downtown. He's asking that we clear that area good and wide and stat. Says it could get messy."

"I can't believe what you just said is my reality now. It's a god-awful joke, but okay. You stick with them. I'll get in touch with local authorities and we'll evacuate as fast as we can. How long do you think we have?"

"I'd guess we'll be out the door in less than ten minutes. Not sure on the time to target but we might get to this Silver Birches place in an hour maybe. I'd guess less. Tesser is pissed."

"We'll do everything we can. Showtime, as they say, Spoon. I hired you because I had to. Now show me why this agency needs you."

"You got it." Spoon hung up the phone and got up the stairs in Mr. Doyle's home as fast as he could with his painful hip to where the old man was gathering relics of a bygone era for their trip.
I hope I get a magical Gatling gun. Or two magical Gatling guns.

"Mr. Spooner," Mr. Doyle said. "What is your first name?"

"Henry. But you can call me Spoon. I like that a lot."

Mr. Doyle looked uncomfortable at the thought of calling someone a 'spoon.' "If you don't mind, I'd like to call you Henry."

Whatever.
Spoon shrugged. In the office just off the top of the stairs, Mr. Doyle had quickly produced a stack of wooden cases. They were old and ornate, held together by leather bindings and brass nails. They appeared more like luggage that belonged on the Titanic than something in a modern home.

"As you men leave here to fight things from the other side, I want you all to carry with you weapons that I know to be effective against… well, against evil."

Tesser, Alexis, Spoon and Abe all stood quietly, listening. Tesser looked impatient.
 

Mr. Doyle picked up a small case about the size of an old VCR. He undid a small padlock with a tiny key from his pocket and opened it. Inside were a pair of impressively etched, silver revolvers, and trays of ammunition.
Nice. Enfield Number twos.

"Abraham, I know firearms aren't your strong suit, but with your Call of Duty experience, I hope you can manage to operate these. They are vintage 1934 Enfield Number Two, Mark One revolvers. I have forty-two rounds of specially made ammunition for you to pair with them. I am unsure of the science on how the shells were manufactured, but a close friend of mine in Texas assures me they are capable of visiting great harm on things of a… supernatural persuasion. They have been blessed by numerous clergy of many different faiths and are infused with essences of a wide array of harmful substances to things made of evil."

Abe was speechless.
 

"Take care. Familiarize yourself with how they load. They are simple to fire."

"Make sure you don't point them at anyone, Abe," Spoon said.

Abe nodded. "I'll do my best, Spoon." Abe took the case and moved to another desk.
 

"Tesser, I trust you need nothing from me."

All Tesser did was smile.

"Henry. I am assuming that the United States government has seen to it that you are issued state of the art equipment in support of our dragon friend?" Mr. Doyle asked sarcastically.

"I've got some neat toys. More, if you ask nicely."

"I thought as much. For you, I give different gifts." The eccentric British man turned to a larger case, longer by far, but light. Mr. Doyle lifted it with ease, despite being his unclear age. He sat it on his desk where the revolvers had been a minute before. The case flipped open, revealing a vintage Air Force horsehide leather jacket. It was worn, well worn, and has some abrasions and dark patches where it appeared to have been burned somehow. It was the quintessential pilot's leather jacket. It looked like it had been dunked in testosterone and wiped dry with Hercules' loin cloth. It screamed macho.
 

Holy shit. That's old school.
"Looks like Indiana Jones' jacket."

Mr. Doyle agreed. "The style was made popular by those movies, yes. This particular jacket was worn by a bomber pilot in 1943. He brought the jacket to a shaman outside of the base in Africa where he was stationed before a bombing run into Italy. The shaman cast many spells on this jacket for the American pilot. The pilot and his crew survived that run and many subsequent runs. Before leaving on a trip to bomb Germany, the same pilot brought this same jacket to an Irish mother who was part gypsy. Roma. She cast more spells on the jacket, and somehow, the spells entwined and fortified, which is rare and unusual. The pilot took his crew over Europe, and even though the bomber was shot down, he survived without a scratch. As you can see, the jacket has been burnt and shot at repeatedly, and it continues to keep its wearer alive. Now the jacket is mine, and tonight, I wish you to wear it. May its magic stay strong, and keep you alive as it did the pilot."

Fuck. That's lineage.
"Thank you, Mr. Doyle. I don't know what to say."

"Tell me you'll cover me when we get there, and that you're a crack shot."

"101
^st
Airborne, Mr. Doyle. Qualified Sharpshooter."

"Excellent. Now, if you'll allow an old man a few minutes to get his things together." Mr. Doyle shuffled away after picking up several heavier cases. He went to a back office and shut the door, leaving the others alone to play with their new toys.

Alexis turned to Tesser, having been lost in the mix. "I want to go with you guys. I know I'll be no use, but I want to go."

Tesser thought on it for a minute, trying to think of something to say.
I got an idea,
Spoon thought. "Alexis, how good a driver are you?"

"I drive into and out of Boston every day on my commute. No accidents in six years."

That's better than most of the guys on the force.
"You drive my truck. It's armored and you can stay in the wings if things get messy. You can always take off if it gets really bad."

"Is that a good idea?" Alexis asked Tesser.

"No. But you might as well come. If we fail to kill Legion, or send him back across the Veil it won't matter if we leave you behind here. Nowhere will be safe," the dragon said.

Alexis looked afraid.
 

Spoon slid the jacket on after taking his off-the-rack suit jacket off. The horsehide felt cool against his skin, and there was an unmistakable aura of invincibility he felt with it on. Maybe it was a placebo effect, but he liked how it felt.
I wanna go shoot at some shit. Kick a motherfucker in the chest. Kill me some daemons.

Across the room Abe was fastening a belt with twin hip holsters for the Enfield pistols. He tied the thigh cords and stood up straight. Spoon could see fear in his eyes as the young man looked at his reflection in the dark window. Abe loaded one pistol and put it into a holster.

"Abe."

The young man turned and Spoon saw the fear directly. He'd seen it a hundred times before in the Army. Pre-combat jitters. The face right before a man's first jump.

"We are going into battle against daemons from Hell. We are going to be shot at. They are going to try and stab us, slash us, and eat our souls. We will have to kill tonight. With guns and knives, and if things get real bad, our bare hands and teeth. It's gonna be a storm, and we're gonna be in it. It's going to be the most horrible thing you've ever experienced. But you know what?"

Abe was almost shaking now. "What?"

Spoon leaned his head towards Tesser. "That guy is on our side and he's a motherfucking
dragon
."

Abe stopped shaking and smiled.

"Yeah, I thought so."
Hope that gives him some balls. Guess we'll find out whether or not this is the real deal real quick.

The back office door opened and Mr. Doyle strode out. He had transformed from doddering old eccentric into a warrior straight from a bizarre history book. Under a leather duster, the old man wore leather leggings and a chain shirt adorned with rings that formed a red templar's cross on his chest. A pocket watch hung on a chain around his neck. Dozens of waist pouches held God knew what. At Mr. Doyle’s right hip, he wore a leather holster that held an automatic pistol. On his left hip hung a longsword in a scabbard that looked expensive beyond belief. It was encrusted from top to bottom with ivory, gold, and silver inlays. Carvings of Latin and older languages ran alongside gems and scrollwork.
I wonder what the sword looks like?

On Mr. Doyle's forehead sat a pair of mad scientist goggles with thick, darkened, rounded lenses. He looked out of place, out of time, and out of his mind.

"You look completely fucking crazy, old man," Spoon said.

Mr. Doyle beamed. "That's not the first time I've been told that, and rightfully so. Abraham, don't forget your spell materials and don't leave until I give you a few potions. You as well Henry. Let's go kill some bloody daemons."

Tesser cracked his knuckles and led them down the stairs.

We are going to explode some daemons tonight, boys.

Chapter Fifty

Tesser

Tesser flew low and fast, the cold autumn evening wind licking at his eyes and scales. Below him was Interstate 93, the north-south artery that ran from the base of Massachusetts towards the far tip of New Hampshire. It was a heavily traveled route normally, but right now, as the evening aged, there were fewer and fewer vehicles on the road. The dragon passed over numerous police cars and fire trucks on the way, with Spoon's Agency truck staying close behind.
 

I could fly faster, but I want them to arrive near when I do. I can't protect them if they get there too early or too late.

Mile after mile gave way as Tesser soared above the trees, but below the thick white clouds. His heart raced happily. He was thrilled to be flying again and to finally be on the hunt for something he wanted so desperately to destroy. He had no fear in his heart.

Matty had better be safe. If that thing hurt her, I swear I'll cross the Veil myself and annihilate everything I find on the other side. Legion may not be able to die here, but I'd bet he'd burn for good over there.

Tesser's miraculously powerful nose caught the tiniest hint of something familiar on the air. It was a taste of family. A memory of millennia eons ago.
Kaula?
Tesser inhaled deeply, swirling his head about to find the source of the scent, and immediately, he knew it was above the clouds. With a flap of his giant wings, he cut through the damp white puffs and ascended to the pure night sky above.

It will be a good night tonight
. Tesser saw his dragon brothers and sisters flying in the sky and moving in from miles around. To the west, Garamos was the first to catch his eye. He was gargantuan, even by Tesser's ample standard. His enormous red- and brown-scaled body flapped wings the size of a stadium up and down rhythmically, propelling him forward. He looked over at Tesser and snorted a ball of flame from a nostril the size of a sewer lid. It was a greeting and a threat. The two brothers often argued over how things were done.

To the east, Tesser saw Kiarohn, the blue dragon of the sky. Beyond the need for a gender, Kiarohn was truly neither male nor female. Kiarohn existed to stir the winds and make Earth more habitable for Tesser's life. Kiarohn's glittering and glimmering wings moved almost hypnotically, and Tesser could feel that the wind in his face he'd felt so long that night had been from Kiarohn the whole time. The thought of that put a smile on his enormous face. Tesser looked up. High above, far, far above, a glimmering red comet slid downward.
 

Sweet sister, Zeud. How is that you were able to focus on this for so long to travel here from wherever you came? The only thing that’s ever captivated you is fire, and the only thing burning right now is you.
Zeud came down from the heavens like the mythical phoenix that was often confused for her.
 

We are far from danger, but this will be much easier with them here.
 

Tesser dropped down below the clouds and made sure Spoon's truck was still moving safely on the interstate. Its flashing blue lights kept the traffic ahead of it out of the way. Alexis kept the pedal to the floor. She was a good driver, as advertised.

Tesser closed his eyes and reached out with all his senses. Like the flashes of storm clouds appearing in a darkened sky, Tesser could sense the minds and presence of the other dragons. Small sparks were below in the truck as well.
That must be Mr. Doyle and Abe
. Tesser looked into the darkness searching for more clues. He tried to attune all his senses into one: smell, hearing, taste, and the magic his sister had seen fit to trust to him
. I don't expect to see Kaula, but I might be able to find the silver birches Ellen's leaf found. I'm glad Ellen let me eat the leaf. Now, I have a connection to it.