Firewalker (37 page)

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Authors: Allyson James

Tags: #Paranormal, #General, #Romance, #Paranormal Romance Stories, #Shapeshifting, #Fiction

BOOK: Firewalker
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“Easy, Janet,” Colby warned. “Don’t let them get you for contempt of court.”
“But I have every contempt for this court.”
Aine spoke. “We acknowledge that you did not create the creature you refer to as Undead Jim. But you must know who did.”
“I haven’t the foggiest who resurrected him. A god with an agenda, maybe? Someone trying to help him and screwing up? The power didn’t come from my mother. I made sure of that.” All this bugged me. If I hadn’t done it, and my mother hadn’t done it, and Coyote hadn’t done it—that meant that some other god or goddess from Beneath must have brought Jim back to life and given him Beneath powers. But I’d have to concentrate on figuring out who made Jim after I got Mick out of this.
Bancroft, who hadn’t spoken at all yet, raised his hand for silence. “The gist of your argument is, therefore, that Mick’s decision to disobey an order from the dragon council resulted, in the long run, in a few benevolent acts from you. However, many of the situations in which your benevolent acts were performed would not have occurred at all had you been terminated at once.”
“Yes, things do tend to happen around me,” I said. “I’m a Stormwalker, and I have a lot of magic in me. People tend to ask me to help them because of it.” I felt as though I’d swallowed half the dry lake’s dust and cleared my throat again. “My argument is that Mick is more farsighted and compassionate than you give him credit for. He disobeyed because he’s smarter than any of you. No, let me rephrase that—smarter than all of you put together.”
Aine’s lips thinned. “You do know that the penalty for contempt of court is instant death?”
I hadn’t known that, but why was I not surprised?
“Try it.” I was angry and exhausted, scared and unhappy. “I wouldn’t mind a little workout.”
“No, you wouldn’t,” Colby said. Even Mick shot a warning look at me.
Aine drew herself up. “Do not toy with the rage of dragons, little Stormwalker. You are very small compared to us.”
“Then why are you so afraid of me?” I bravely met her cold gaze. “This is what this trial is really about, isn’t it? Fear. You don’t want to acknowledge that any force in the world might be more powerful than the mighty dragons. That someone might not allow you to get away with whatever you want to get away with. Such as holding a trial for someone when you’ve already decided he’s guilty. Such as ordering a hit on a young woman who might be your only defense against whatever might come out of the vortexes. Did you ever stop to think of that? That you might need me? Or are you too afraid to need anyone? Why, because I might call in the favor someday?”
“I think that’s enough,” Farrell said in a hard voice.
“I agree,” Bancroft said. Aine’s eyes were narrow in rage, but she kept silent.
“Not quite,” I said. “Would you like to tell the dragons gathered here that you’d rather me be dead than alive to help when you need it? Or do you not want them to realize that you’re not strong enough to defend them from certain forces?”
“Okay, now even I think that’s enough,” Colby said. “Shut up before you get me fried too.”
Aine’s lips barely moved. “You die, Stormwalker. Right now.”
She raised her hands. For one awful second I imagined red-hot dragon fire ripping through me before I could even bring my magic to bear, when both Nash and Mick stepped in front of me.
I was sure Mick had just broken all kinds of dragon rules doing so, but he remained a solid wall of muscle, the tattoo on his back glowing red. He didn’t say a word, just let the council know by his stance that they sure as hell weren’t killing me without going through him. I prayed that it would be a huge dragon gaffe if they fried him in the middle of his own trial.
Nash was just as formidable, and just as much in the way. “Mick tried to explain a little about a dragon’s perception of honor,” he said to the dragons. “Killing a witness before a trial is over doesn’t seem very honorable to me.”
Farrell stared at him in disbelief. “What do you know of dragon honor, human man?”
“I don’t know much about dragons—hell, I didn’t even believe in them until I saw Mick turn into one—but I know about honor. If a person thinks an order is wrong and harmful, that person has the obligation to question the order and disobey if necessary. Mick made a decision based on the best intelligence he had at the time, and it turned out to be a correct one.”
“Why do you defend her?” Bancroft looked puzzled. “From our observations, you don’t regard the witness with much warmth.”
“I agree that Janet Begay is a pain in the ass, has a smart mouth, and seems to attract trouble wherever she goes,” Nash said.
“Thanks,” I murmured.
“She also shows great courage under pressure and has saved the lives of several people I care about. I keep extensive records on her activities and discovered that before she came to live in Magellan she helped numerous people with serious problems. She found missing persons and solved puzzles that eluded others. If she hadn’t been available to do that, the wrong people would have been punished for those crimes, or the missing would still be lost and in danger.”
My heart warmed. I’d never heard Nash be so eloquent. I knew better than to think he spoke out of great liking for me—Nash was keenly aware of right and wrong, of harm versus good. He’d thought about this logically and applied his unique knowledge to it.
Still, I wanted to hug him.
“We will take that into consideration.” Aine’s voice was frosty. “Defense counsel, do you have anything to add?”
Nash remained in front of me, as did Mick, to absorb any dragon fire that might come my way. I wasn’t foolish enough to leave the relative protection of their bodies.
Colby took another step forward. Strange, I’d stopped noticing that everyone was without clothes except me and Nash. The dragons were so comfortable with their bodies, just as Mick had always been. They didn’t see the need to attach shame to bare skin.
“The defense has one more thing to add.” Colby glanced at Mick, and his grin grew broad.
Mick tensed, opened his mouth as if to speak, then snapped it shut again. Damned dragon trial rules.
“Micalerianicum came here today because honor mandated it,” Colby said. “He’d never skip out on a trial called by the dragon council. But you know damn well he’s here only to be courteous to you, and not because you can command him. He never uses his status for personal privilege.”
Colby turned to Mick again. Mick’s alarmed look had vanished to be replaced with mixed annoyance and anger.
“Micky was the dragon who won the battle for you against demons two hundred years ago, one that happened not fifty miles from here. If not for him, two of you good council members—Aine and Farrell—would be little dragon smears on rocks in the middle of the Sierras. Mick was decorated for valor and given the highest status a dragon can achieve: lord and general. One of the perks of this status is that it can be used to lessen any penalties levied against him by the dragon council. As humans would say, a Get Out of Jail Free card. Or almost free. The reason for this relative immunity from the dragon council ruling is that it’s thought a dragon lord wouldn’t be stupid enough to go against the council without a damn good reason. Or else, he wouldn’t be a dragon lord. Circular logic, but I don’t make up the rules.”
I stared at Colby with my mouth open. “A dragon lord?”
Colby winked at me. “One of the highest. Damned arrogant bastard.”
“This is your defense?” Aine asked in a freezing voice.
“Sure thing, your ladyship. If Micky decided that the dragon council was a triumvirate of idiots for wanting to kill Janet Begay, then he was privileged to make that choice. You can still punish him for doing it, of course, but you have to take his status into account when you pass your sentence.”
Colby gave them a bow and stepped back, finished.
“That’s it?” I asked. “They will still find him guilty, but because he’s a dragon lord they can pass a lesser sentence? So instead of certain death, it will be
almost
certain death?”
“Best I can do,” Colby said.
“Damn it.” I released the magic I’d been holding back, letting it ripple to the edges of the lake bed.
I was in the mood for destruction, but I wasn’t going to give the dragon council the satisfaction of confirming that I was the bad-ass evil being they thought I was. Instead, I brought all the boulders that littered the lake bed sliding rapidly to surround the three arrogant dragons.
“I’m not here to change your laws,” I said as they stared at me. “As stupid as they are. But as much as I am Mick’s mate, by your terms—so he is mine. If he dies, you answer to me. Is that what you really want?”
I had the satisfaction of seeing the three dragons look worried. I sensed their deep-seated fear that somehow I would destroy them, not to mention their power, their world, and everything they were.
And maybe I could. The magic in me was pretty damned strong, and I didn’t know yet what I could do with it. Dragons were powerful, but I was now more than the naïve Stormwalker that Mick had met all those years ago. I’d learned to master my storm powers, and I’d helped many people, as Nash had said. I’d grown stronger, more capable, less afraid.
Mick had been responsible for some of my growth, but much of it had been because of me, myself. I was Navajo, tied to this earth, but my spirit soared into the storms and tapped the magic of the world that created us.
I folded my arms and stepped away from Nash and Mick. Yes, I still believed the dragons could burn me to a crisp, but I was finished with being frightened of them. I was filthy, bruised, cut, and so tired I could barely stand, yet the dragons watched
me
in trepidation.
“Decide,” I said. “And hurry up. I want to go home, and I’m tired of being messed with.”
Bancroft gave me a nod, though his look was anything but approving. “We will deliberate.”
He and the other two turned their backs on me, and I could tell that it scared the piss out of them to do so.
Tweenty-seven
“Great assist, Janet,” Colby growled at me half an hour later. “I was hoping to go the hell home. But no, I’m stuck surviving Mick’s stupid sentence with him. Walking out of this place with you, no magic and no shape-shifting allowed.”
I wasn’t much happier, being already hot and thirsty. Mick’s arms came around me from behind, his body hard and warm and oh-so-good. “Janet just saved all our asses, Colby. As Ordeals go, it’s not a bad one, so suck it up. Besides, wasn’t it worth it to watch her embarrass the dragon council?” He chuckled and pressed a blood-tingling kiss to my neck. “I never thought I’d live to see that.”
Colby’s face relaxed, even as he wiped sweat from it. “Yeah, that was pretty good. Janet, sweetie, want to be my defense if I have to go to trial?”
“No,” I said.
Nash snatched sunglasses out of his pocket and shoved them on. “If you’re all finished with self-congratulations, we need to get going. That sun’s going to be pretty fierce.” He looked once at the glare coming over the mountains and then started walking.
The dragon council’s sentence, passed after about twenty minutes of heated argument, was for Mick and his counsel for the defense—Colby, me, and Nash—to walk out of the Racetrack and make it back to civilization the best we could. No shape-shifting and flying out, no magic. Just us, the merciless sun, and no water. One dragon trusted by the council was to accompany us to act as our watcher: Drake. To say he wasn’t happy about it is a severe understatement.
On a relative scale, it was a light sentence, a slap on the wrist. Mick, Nash, Colby, and Drake were in good shape, and we might well run into someone driving around out here. I held out faint hope, however, that the council would let us have it that easy. Remembering Bancroft’s horde of devoted lackeys, including his county sheriff, I imagined the council could ensure, by devious methods, that no one drove up these back roads. It was a twenty-five-or-so-mile walk across the desert and over steep hills on a dirt road. We could still die of dehydration and heatstroke, not a terrific prospect.
Nash led the way. He removed his button-down shirt and draped it over his head, the white T-shirt he wore beneath bright in the sunlight. He had sunglasses, but I had nothing with which to shield my eyes, and the sun beat down on me without mercy.
I trudged behind Nash, with Mick and Colby behind me, and Drake bringing up the rear. Drake was angry as hell, but with his stoic loyalty, I knew he wouldn’t simply say,
Screw this,
and fly off. He’d stay and die with us if that was what he had to do. It was that dragon honor thing again. I also knew Mick would obey the edict of no magic and no shape-shifting, and he’d make damn sure Colby obeyed it too. Mick must be one hell of a dragon lord. I was still adjusting to that.
I couldn’t use my cell phone, and neither could Nash, because both of ours were inexplicably dead. I had my piece of magic mirror, but using it to communicate with the outside was forbidden—that would violate the rule of no magic. The dragons had thought of everything.

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