Dragon: Allie's War Book Nine (47 page)

He shook his head, fighting to remember the details of what he’d learned all those years ago in the Pamir.

“Dragon is said to be a shape-shifter,” he said. “…not just a light manipulator but a
matter
manipulator. He can borrow your abilities, Allie…possibly even take them from you, like I said. I don’t know
what
he can do…in all honesty I didn’t think he fucking
incarnated
down here, Alyson. According to the Myth, he can use whatever he touches. He can
take them and use them as his own
…do you understand?”

He fought for the words from the relevant commentaries.

“Allie, it says…
he is the dark, the ocean…the night,”
Dalejem recited.
“That chaos springing from the profusion of all.
He is the matter re-arranger…do you understand? He can take any matter…
any
matter, Allie…and make it his own.”

He paused, staring at her face.

When she didn’t look over, his temper snapped.

“Goddamn it, Allie! Are you listening to me? We’re going to fucking
die
if we stay here…and we can’t let him out! We’ll lock him in here and gas him or something…”

Laughter echoed in the Barrier behind his light.

You are too late, brother,
Dragon whispered.
Too, too late…

Dalejem stared up at the being suspended there, at the muzzle on his mouth.

Could it really be Dragon? Or was this just another trick? Another headfuck from Menlim and the rest of those Dreng assholes? He clenched his hands together around the gun and realized he’d broken out in a cold sweat.

“I didn’t even know he could incarnate down here,” he muttered again. “I thought he was one of those things that was more like an impulse…an energy. Not a real thing. Like an
actual
myth, Allie. It is said he created the universe itself, out of the dark. Out of nothing…”

The being up there was staring at Dalejem now.

His clear irises glowed softly once more, like smoky glass lamps.

“He uses his voice…” Dalejem looked back at Alyson. “He can speak matter into existence, Allie…that might be why they have him muzzled. We have to go, do you hear me? We can’t risk it. If Feigran’s right about this…”

He trailed, unsure how to even finish that sentence.

He tried to decide again if he should just grab her, drag her backwards towards the door. Remembering the warnings he’d gotten about telekinetic seers, the semi-trances they went into when they manipulated, he hesitated, one hand outstretched.

Pulling his arm back after another beat, he swallowed.

“Allie,” he said, forcing his voice softer. “Allie…if it’s him, if it’s really Dragon, you have to try to kill him. Now, before he regains his power for real. I don’t know what he can do if he can speak…but trust me, you don’t want to find out. Not if he’s been corrupted by the Dreng…or worse, driven insane from being locked down here for however-many years…”

When she didn’t answer, he felt his jaw harden more.

“Allie,” he said, his voice still low. “He’s already got access to telekinesis. You can’t let him out of here, Allie. You can’t. It would be a fucking
disaster
…so if you really think you can kill him, you should do it. Now, before we leave this place…”

Finally, Allie turned.

Her head swiveled on her neck smoothly, slowly…almost like something mechanical. Dalejem felt his throat tighten when he saw the flames in her irises and the utter lack of expression on her face.

Even so, he exhaled in relief that she was looking at him.

“Allie, kill him and let’s go,” he urged. “I mean it…we have to go.”

“We cannot just go,” she said.

Her voice was flat, but held so much light he flinched.

“Why not?” he said.

“Because I’m not willing to kill him until I know more,” she said. “And we cannot lock him in here. The door will not seal.”

Ignoring the confused look Dalejem gave to the door, she went on in a calm voice.

“However, I agree that we cannot risk him getting out,” she said next. “Given the limitations I just outlined, what do you suggest, brother?”

That time, her voice was almost polite.

Dalejem scarcely hesitated.

“If you really can’t lock him in here, then you
have
to kill him, Allie,” he said. “We can’t risk that he’s been corrupted by the Dreng. Anyway, he’ll probably kill us if you don’t––”

“Is he evil?” she broke in. “In the myths? Dragon,” she clarified.

Hesitating, Dalejem shook his head.

“No,” he said, reluctant. “No…not evil. Just incredibly fucking powerful. He’s sometimes portrayed as ‘the righter of wrongs.’ Some seer scholars believe he’s the same being that ancient humans used to worship as the Old God…thousands of years ago, I mean. The one who brought floods and fire and famine and brimstone and whatever else to smite the unrighteous. Some call him the ‘Old God’ even in the older versions of the Myth…” He paused, seeing a light go off in Allie’s eyes. “What? That means something to you?”

Again, relief filled his voice that she even seemed to be hearing him.

As he thought it, her gaze shifted inward once more, as if she’d retreated back into some other space. Tilting her head, she gazed back up at the seer she held against the wall.

“The Old God…” she muttered.

Dalejem was about to try with her again but light snaked out of her aleimi in another thick, blue-green cord. Even as Dalejem saw it, it wrapped itself tightly around the huge seer, making seven or eight full loops before tightening like a vise.

Dalejem flinched as that vise squeezed, causing the larger seer to kick and squirm in the air, his complexion turning a darker red.

That time, Allie spoke directly to Dragon.

Is what he’s saying true, brother?
she sent.
Are you here to kill us? Floods and fire?

Dalejem heard the mocking note. Even so, he felt the question as real.

The being calling himself Dragon didn’t answer.

“Allie…” Dalejem muttered. His nerves vibrated higher in his light.

Why are you here?
she pressed, still staring up at that muzzled face.
Or are you simply one more intermediary who has lost his way, my poor brother…yet another tiresome monkey dancing and clapping its cymbals for the Dreng?

She paused, waiting for him to answer.

When he didn’t, her thoughts grew more angry.

My husband was made to recite prayers as a child,
she sent.
Prayers the Dreng taught him. Prayers about the Old God. Prayers that told of His return, of what He would do.
She paused, and her thoughts grew more biting.
Do you know anything about that, my brother? Or are you simply flattered with the attention?

Dalejem stared at her as she finished. She didn’t return his gaze.

Her eyes remained narrowed up on the being, Dragon.

Dragon just hung there now, breathing heavily.

Even so, Dalejem found himself fighting that pressure in his chest. He looked around, noting lightning-like streaks as they coiled across the ceiling of the circular room.

“Allie…” he muttered, his voice containing a warning. “Allie, for fuck’s sake…”

What is to keep me from killing you?
she asked Dragon.
Why should I spare you?

I told you why,
the being answered, still breathing hard.
Or does that not matter to you anymore? Have you moved on so quickly, my beautiful sister?

Dragon’s eyes shifted to Dalejem, staring at his face.

Dalejem looked at Allie, frowning.

Clearly he’d missed something in the earlier part of their conversation.

She didn’t return his glance that time either, but Dalejem saw her throat move in a swallow, even as a pulse of emotion left her light…one that felt real.

“Allie?” he said, soft. “What’s he talking about?”

Again, she didn’t look over. She directed her words to Dragon.

Menlim won’t kill my husband,
she said, her thoughts cold.
Not even for you, my most impressive brother.

He will kill him if he can’t control him,
Dragon told her at once.
In through the out door, my precious sister…in through the out door. I am that door…and when that door closes, not even your friend Feigran can save him…

Dalejem felt Allie’s aleimi spark in reaction.

More than that, he felt a denser, more intense charge spin chaotically in her light, what might have been fear. Dalejem tried to follow the currents he felt and saw, but they moved and shifted too quickly…there were too many of them. Even as he thought it, she looked at Feigran, her glowing emerald eyes asking the auburn-haired seer a silent question.

“In through the out door?” Dalejem said. “What the fuck does that mean?” He followed her gaze to Feigran’s face. “Allie? What does that mean?”

Feigran give her a perceptible nod.

Anger flared in her light.

Powerlessness…what might even have been grief.

For a long moment, she seemed to lose control of the emotions that flickered through her aleimi, again too rapidly for Dalejem to follow. He still didn’t understand, but he fought pain in his own light as he reacted to hers, resonating with the depth of feeling there. He fought to pull away, to control himself, but never really succeeded in either.

Finally, she looked at Dalejem, murder in her eyes.

“We can’t kill him,” she said, blunt, in English.

“What?” Dalejem said. Panic immediately took over his own light.
“Endruk et dugra
…why? What is this nonsense about doors?”

She shook her head. “We have to let him go. We have to.”

“Let him
go?”
Dalejem exploded. “No! Fuck no! Are you insane?”

She shook her head again. The anger in her light worsened.

“Do you have any idea how dangerous that would be?” Dalejem said. “To let any kind of telekinetic out, much less
this
one…given how
iksrataa
crazy he obviously is…?”

She met his gaze. He saw that furious helplessness in her eyes still, even through the sparking and shifting liquid flames.

From her expression, it was clear she did know.

She knew better than he did.

He was still staring at her when she shook her head.

“It’s too late.” She looked at him, her gaze flat. “…I’m sorry, Jem.”

“That’s fucking madness!” he exploded.

She didn’t look at him.

“Nonetheless, it is true,” she said, her voice unchanging.

As she finished uttering the words, the cord holding Dragon snapped back.

Whatever had been holding the giant seer suspended over the floor abruptly let him go.

He fell…hard, fast…but Dalejem saw him catch himself somehow before he hit the floor. In the end he landed almost softly…cat-like, on his feet.

He crouched there, his eyes fixed on Allie.

Even through that mask, Dalejem could have sworn he saw him smile.

15

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