Dragons vs. Drones (21 page)

Dree looked up and saw Baby Hybrid take another flurry of gunfire, its right engine completely shorting out. It began to spin, losing power. It was going down.

Two of the drones left the pursuit and glided over the dungeon, their machine guns locked on her and Marcus. To make matters worse, another regiment of black-armored soldiers appeared in the hallways above them—at least thirty strong.

“It's over,” Francis said. His eyes flicked to Dree. “The girl is an assassin. Kill her.”

“No!” Marcus shouted. “You said—”

“I said I would keep her alive if you left,” Francis replied. “You did not.”

The soldier smiled and gripped the sword with two hands, preparing to bring it down. Dree had another image of Gavri, smiling at her. She knew she would see him soon. But strangely enough, she didn't want to now. She had so much more to do.

There was a glint of light as the sword fell.

It never made it. Suddenly, raging crimson fire burst across the exposed palace, flooding the upper hallway and scattering the soldiers. The man who was about to kill Dree was snatched up in long black talons and pitched across the room, while the two hovering Trackers were forced to veer away from the incredible force of the flames. Lourdvang roared as he turned back to Dree, his eyes blazing with rage, and she jumped to her feet and leapt onto his neck as soon as he landed.

Above them, where part of the palace had been blown open, the sky had filled with black and golden shapes as Sages and Nightwings converged on the drones. Dree spotted Nolong as he landed on one of the Destroyer's enormous white wings, trying to tear into the heavily reinforced armor. George stumbled toward the machinery and grabbed a small transmitter that was tucked into the shadows, jamming it into his pocket.

“Come on!” Dree shouted.

Marcus grabbed his father and started pulling him over to Lourdvang, but suddenly realized that his father couldn't touch Lourdvang without being burned.

“We need Baby Hybrid,” he said. “Where is—”

He didn't get the chance to finish. They heard another explosion overhead and looked up to see a flaming Baby Hybrid streaking into the room, fire billowing out behind it. It hit the ground and skidded into the rows of blinking machinery, its forward engines both blown out. The hybrid rolled and landed on its side, revealing one of its machine guns, and it promptly started firing behind them, scattering the two Trackers.

“Hurry!” Dree screamed.

Marcus turned to his dad. “Get on my back.”

“Just leave me—”

“No,” Marcus said firmly. He wasn't losing his father again. “Get on.”

He knelt down and George climbed onto his back. He was a tall man, but he was now so thin and frail that Marcus managed to stand up again, though his knees were shaking. He climbed up onto Lourdvang's back, George clinging to him weakly, his yellowed fingers interwined on Marcus's chest. Every step was a trial, and Marcus's body ached and strained and trembled, but he managed to pull himself up and sit behind Dree, gripping his father's legs beneath his arms. George was only inches from Lourdvang's blazing hot scales.

“Go!” Dree shouted.

Lourdvang leapt into the air, using the distraction to race through the hole blasted into the side of the palace and streak toward the stars. A horde of dragons was waiting there, covering their escape. Marcus turned back to see the remaining drones gather around Francis, who was slowly walking over to the hybrid. Even from there, Marcus could see his calculating smile. Francis knew that he still had his weapon.

“Should we go back?” Dree asked, following Marcus's gaze.

“No,” Marcus said, struggling to hold on to his father's slender legs. “Let's just get out of here.”

They flew away in silence, leaving the flaming, ruined palace behind them. Both Marcus and Dree felt sick for abandoning Baby Hybrid, like they were leaving a family member behind. Baby Hybrid may have been machine, but it had saved their lives yet again.

“He knows how to rebuild it, doesn't he?” Marcus asked his father, who was clutching Marcus's chest desperately, his sickly, flaccid arms barely holding on to him.

“Yes,” George replied. “Without the Egg, we will have no chance of stopping him.”

“So what do we do now?” Dree asked.

George paused. “We find the Egg first. And we get ready for war.”

Marcus looked back as they sailed into the mountains, his eyes on the fires raging behind them. He thought of all the people that had been killed. All of the dragons.

Fire flooded through him, just waiting to erupt.

“We're ready,” he said. “Let the war begin.”

Chapter
28

D
ree and Marcus stood alone on the exposed ledge outside the Nightwings' lair, watching the sun rise over the horizon. It lit the snow-covered mountains with golden fire, matching the clouds sweeping overhead. It was cold up on the summit, but the usually fierce wind was gentle for once, meandering through the valleys on its long way south.

No one had slept that night. They had spoken at great length with Erdath, who had managed to rally his own people for war. He had also sent envoys out to the other clans in Dracone, and when he heard that Nolong was going to try as well, he seemed relieved.

“My kin likely would not have succeeded,” Erdath had said. “But a Sage is a different thing altogether.” He'd looked out over his kin, concern in his green eyes. “If Francis can create more drones, then we will need even more dragons. I fear that to win we may need the most dangerous ones of all.”

“They'll never help us,” Lourdvang said.

“Then we must find a way to convince them,” Erdath replied.

George had finally gone to sleep in the side caverns, using Marcus's backpack as a pillow. He had collapsed onto the ground almost instantly, clearly exhausted after months imprisoned in the dungeon.

Marcus still didn't know what to think about his father. He was of course overjoyed to see him again, but he was also appalled by the things he had done. George had stolen the Egg, gotten his mother killed, and lied to Marcus
his entire life. Then he'd returned to Dracone and built the very drones that were now destroying the countryside and murdering thousands.

It was a sickening feeling to know that his father was partially to blame for these deaths.

But what was Marcus supposed to do? Turn his back on the only family he had left? He couldn't just abandon his father, regardless of what he had done. And his father did truly seem to want to make amends—in fact, he seemed obsessed with it.

They had spoken in the cavern before he slept.

“I'll create the disruption tomorrow,” he said grimly, showing Marcus the transmitter that he had kept hidden for years. “I have sensor relays stationed around Dracone. When I signal, the storm will begin.”

Marcus nodded. “And what about Francis?”

“He'll find a way to get them there,” he said. “He's learning fast. We'll need to get the Egg, get back to Dracone, and see if we can rescue your Baby Hybrid or build another one.” He took Marcus by the shoulder. “I'm going to make this right, son.”

Marcus had just faked a smile. For some reason, it didn't feel right calling George his father yet. Maybe in time. But for now, he still had too many questions.

Dree was going to go with them to Earth as well. Despite George's insistence that he wanted to defeat Francis and return Dracone to the way it was before, she didn't trust him, and she definitely didn't want to leave him alone with Marcus.

“A lot has happened in a few weeks,” Dree said quietly,
watching the sunrise.

“Yeah,” Marcus replied. “Everything . . . I think. I forget what my life was like before.”

“Me too. And maybe that's a good thing for the two of us.”

Marcus paused and looked at her, shifting a little. “Thank you.”

“For what?” she asked.

“Saving my life a thousand times, for starters, but also for showing me all this . . . for showing me where I belong.”

“Will you go back?” Dree asked softly. “You know . . . after?”

“What for?” he said. “My life is here now—this is my world—I was born in Dracone. And now I have to make up for what my father has done.”

Dree felt her skin prickling. It was all she could do not to storm into the cavern and punch Marcus's father. He had launched the destruction of the dragons. He had helped Francis, who had given the orders to have her family stripped of its wealth. He had ruined so many lives. But what could she do? He was Marcus's father, and she didn't want to hurt Marcus. They could deal with his crimes when Francis and the drones were defeated.

The sun peaked over the mountains, chasing the last shadows away.

“What about your family?” Marcus asked.

“I'll leave them in the caves for now. It's safest there. Abi will miss me, but it's for the best. I won't go anywhere near there now. . . . Francis will have the drones searching
everywhere for us.”

“He's probably busy with Baby Hybrid,” Marcus said.

“We'll get her back.” Dree squeezed his hand. The heat warmed them both, racing up their arms.

“We have to,” Marcus said. “If Francis has a working hybrid and an army of drones, we don't have much chance against him. Even with the Flames.”

Dree shook her head. “We still need to actually try and recruit the Flames.”

“I can't wait to go see Helvath again,” Marcus muttered.

Dree laughed. “One thing at a time. Your world, first. Should we get your dad?”

“Yeah,” he said, sighing. “We have a storm to catch.”

Marcus, George, and Dree climbed off of Lourdvang's back at the base of the southwestern valley, completely hidden by the mountains. Sweeping plains opened up just ahead, where the three humans would walk into the heart of the storm that was already raging in the distance and approaching fast. Marcus turned to Lourdvang and patted his nose.

“Thanks for everything,” he said. “We'll be back soon.”

“Make sure of it,” Lourdvang grumbled.

Marcus smiled and turned away, letting him have a moment with Dree.

“You're sure I can't come with you?” Lourdvang asked.

Dree smiled. “From what I understand, you might be a bit conspicuous.”

He snorted, shooting out a great puff of black smoke. “So?”

“We're trying to retrieve the Egg,” she said. “That means a little bit of secrecy.”

“I don't like it,” he said simply. “What if you get into trouble over there?”

“We'll be fine.”

“That's what you said before you stormed the palace,” he pointed out.

Dree hesitated. “This time I mean it.” She wrapped his massive neck in a hug, feeling the warmth against her cheek. “We'll be back as soon as possible. I promise.”

“You better be,” he muttered, eyeing George at the same time. “Watch him.”

“I will,” she said. “See you soon, little brother.”

Waving goodbye, they started into the grassy plains, struggling against the fierce wind. Lightning was flashing across the sky, and they were about a half mile in when rain suddenly broke in a great sheet, soaking them all to the core. Dree laughed as the freezing cold rain beat down on her cheeks. She loved storms. Marcus was preoccupied though, searching for the heart of it—where the lightning was most intense. Finally, he pointed at a particularly dark cloud in the midst of the storm, and they hurried toward it, George still moving slowly.

Marcus looked at his father with concern. Despite a full
night's sleep, he still looked very frail. The wind was nearly picking him up as it swept past them toward the mountains, grabbing at his filthy clothes and skeletal limbs.

“What are these disruptions anyway?” Marcus called over the wind.

“Spatial anomalies,” George replied. “Disruptions in space-time, to be exact. Much as Stephen Hawking speculated with multiverses—I believe that Dracone and Earth exist in parallel universes. I placed a ring of temporal energy projectors around Dracone, and later around Arlington, to bring myself back. When I create energy at a certain frequency, it opens the rift. It only happens on one side and then sweeps through the other for just a moment when something disrupts the energy flow and is transported.”

Another tremendous fork of lightning split the sky.

Dree watched it dance through the clouds and then froze. There were black and white spots in the sky overhead. Lots of them. She scanned the storm, spotting at least ten.

“Guys . . .”

“I see them,” Marcus said. “Get to the center of the storm. Now!”

They all broke into a sprint, following Marcus across the sprawling meadow. The drones leapt into action, and a missile exploded into the ground nearby, sending up a massive plume of dirt and fire. The three of them kept running across the open plains as gunfire and missiles started to rain down from above, joining the barrage of bitterly cold rain. The drones swooped down in a diamond point, heading straight for them.

“Where is it?” Dree asked desperately, looking behind them.

“There!” Marcus shouted.

They raced beneath the most violent cloud, lit up by nearly constant blasts of lightning. The drones opened again, and machine gun fire chewed into the dirt, speeding toward them faster than they could possibly run.

Dree looked back, knowing that they would be torn apart in moments.

“Marcus—”

“Jump!” he screamed, watching as a massive bolt of lightning split the sky and raced downward.

Marcus leapt off the ground, Dree and his father close behind, and he heard the machine guns close in just as a brilliant flash of blue lit up his vision. He felt himself falling, seeing nothing but light, and then he slammed hard into concrete, hearing groans as Dree and his father did the same thing behind him.

“Ow,” Dree muttered, squinting against the glaring sunlight.

Dree and Marcus gingerly climbed to their feet, pulling George up with them, and then looked around.

They were in the middle of downtown Arlington in the morning rush hour, and a huge crowd of people were looking at them in utter shock, their hair windblown and their purses and coffee cups and newspapers scattered everywhere like misshapen hailstones. It was eerily silent for a long moment, and then whispers and conversations erupted everywhere as the crowd stared at the new arrivals.

Marcus slowly turned to Dree, smiling awkwardly. “Welcome to Earth.”