Ragnarock (29 page)
No, not gazing at the stage, but above the stage.
They can see us!
Talon realized. Both dragons were focused so strongly on battle, and so powerful were their astral forms, that they were visible to people in the physical world! He heard the screams and cheers of the crowd at what they thought was the greatest special effect they'd ever seen: two giant, spectral dragons battling in mid-air over the stage. The driving beat of the music filled the air all around them as the band played on, oblivious to the display taking place just overhead.
Lofwyr rushed forward and crashed into Alamais, locking him in combat. He lunged and bit at Alamais' exposed flank, while Alamais sank his teeth into Lofwyr's shoulder. Talon felt the primal taste of spirit-blood on his tongue and the flame of pain spreading out from his shoulder. The dragons began slashing and biting at each other like pain-maddened animals. Talon felt like he might drown in the red-haze of Lofwyr's fury, but he fought to stay apart from it.
The dragons were too evenly matched. Talon wasn't certain Lofwyr could win this battle. Alamais seemed like his equal in every way. If Lofwyr
couldn't defeat his brother, they were well and truly
done. There had to be some other way he could help . . .
"Aracos!"
Talon thought, calling to his familiar.
"Tell Silverblade to get ready. This is what we're going to do .
. He explained things to Aracos as quickly as possible.
"Got it, boss."
the spirit said.
Talon turned his attention to Lofwyr, still struggling with Alamais. Both astral forms suffered a multitude of small wounds inflicted by the claws and teeth of the other. Talon focused with all his strength to reach through Lofwyr's rage and reach him.
"Lofwyr!"
he said.
"Drive Alamais down below the stage!"
"How dare you
—" the outraged dragon began to say.
Talon cut him off. "We
don't have time to discuss it! Just do it!"
"I see the idea in your thoughts."
Lofwyr said.
"We strike!"
Together as one, the dragon and Talon twisted into a roll, shifting Alamais below them. Lofwyr reared back with a roar, then slammed into Alamais with all of his strength, furling his own wings and pushing with his will, driving the two dragons down toward the stage again. Talon heard the music swell to a crescendo as the band members felt something vast and powerful pass through them. The crowd was on its feet, screaming and shouting.
The two astral forms passed through the stage, and Talon felt his astral presence separate from Lofwyr's, resolving into his normal familiar shape. He saw Silverblade, locked in combat with Zoller's bear form, plant one booted foot against the bear's chest and shove it backward as he yanked his bloodied sword out of its body. The bear stumbled back and collapsed to the ground, shifting back into the form of Zoller, who lay in a widening pool of his own blood.
Talon's astral form hovered in the air as the two struggling dragons hit the solid earth below the stage and stopped falling, with Alamais on the bottom. He drew Talonclaw's astral form from its sheath at his waist, feeling the blade's magical power, and kept his attention focused on the action taking place below, seeing Silverblade and Aracos do the same.
"You're weakening, Lofwyr!"
Alamais sneered.
"Your little helper has abandoned you and you've hidden too long inside a human's shell! Now we finish this!"
"I agree."
Lofwyr replied.
"Now!"
Talon said, and he, Silverblade, and Aracos rushed forward.
As Alamais was about to strike, he became aware of the other threats. Talon plunged his enchanted dagger into the dragon's side. Alamais' astral body was weaker than his physical form; the blade bit deep into the scaly hide. Silverblade held Argentine in both hands and thrust the sword into the dragon's other side, and Aracos raked spiritual talons across Alamais' head.
The great dragon roared in rage and pain. Then Lofwyr reared back his head and struck with the speed of a cobra, his mighty fangs gripping Alamais' throat.
"Traitor!"
Alamais shrieked.
"You involve others in our duel
. . ."
"No more than you have already done."
Lofwyr replied. "
You were the first to bring pawns into the game, which allows me to do the same. Now, our duel is done, brother. Unless you want me to finish you now."
"And what will the others think of your victory?"
Alamais said.
Talon could almost hear Lofwyr's smile. "
They will only say that I understand how to use all my resources to achieve victory, Alamais. Now, this is ended. How it ends is up to you, but it is over."
"We've got less than two minutes!" Trouble said, crouched near the bomb. "I can't get past the security lock-outs. I don't think we're gonna make it."
"What shall it be?"
Lofwyr said. There was a long pause, and Talon held his breath. Alamais lifted his head up and looked at Lofwyr, who released his grip on his brother's throat. Something Talon couldn't understand seemed to pass between them, then Lofwyr allowed his brother to rise. Alamais stood and spread his wings, bowing his head.
"This victory goes to you, brother."
he said.
Talon's astral form manifested near where Trouble worked. She looked up and saw him, a ghostly image of his physical self.
"I can't do it." she said. "I'm sorry."
"Ah, but you can."
Lofwyr's voice said in her mind, and the minds of everyone in the room.
"If you follow my instructions."
Trouble glanced at Talon in confusion for a second. He merely nodded assuringly.
"Do it." he said.
Trouble nodded and followed the instructions Lofwyr spoke into her mind. She entered the codes with steady hands and pressed the switch.
The countdown stopped at 00:00:28. The shadowrunners breathed a collective sigh of relief.
"The challenge is done."
Lofwyr said. Alamais' head dipped low toward the ground again.
"It is so."
he replied.
"The game is over."
"Game?" Talon said. "You're telling me this was all just some kind of game?"
"A game far beyond anything you could imagine, human."
Alamais said in a dangerous tone, glancing over at Talon.
"No mere game."
Lofwyr said.
"A challenge, one I was obliged to answer. Alamais, you did well, better than I expected. You may yet learn."
Talon turned toward Lofwyr.
"You fragger! You knew about this all along, didn't you? You
used
us!"
There was a shimmer in the air as the great dragons made their astral forms visible to all present. Trouble gave a quiet gasp as the vast, golden-scaled forms appeared, glaring down at Talon with burning, fathomless eyes.
"You sound surprised, Talon."
Lofwyr's thought-voice said.
"But you offer yourself to be used every day. That is what makes you shadowrunners so . . . useful."
"Then you did know about Alamais."
"Not precisely. I knew that I would face a challenge from others of my kind once I inherited the Crystal of Memory from Dunkelzahn, but not precisely who would challenge me, or when. I noticed the magical trap Alamais laid within the crystal unearthed by Dr. Goronay, a mere bauble from times long past."
"But one likely to attract your attention."
Alamais interjected. Lofwyr ignored the interruption and continued.
"I was not fooled by Alamais' trap, but I triggered it and allowed him to believe it had affected me, while I placed my astral form inside of you, Talon. I knew that you would eventually seek out Alamais and give me the opportunity to confront him, and challenge him directly, when the time was right. You should be pleased, Talon. Few humans have experienced the honor I granted you."
"All right, so I'm honored." Talon said. "What happens now?"
Lofwyr turned to Alamais, who gave what looked like the draconic equivalent of a shrug.
"Lofwyr has won this challenge. I no longer have any interest in it. Do with these as you will."
He gestured to take in the remaining members of Winternight who were still alive. "
Another time, dear brother."
Alamais said. He dipped his head toward Lofwyr, then his astral form took wing, disappearing through the ceiling of the room.
"
Alamais
'
challenge has been dealt with."
Lofwyr said.
"So your service to me is at an end. You have my leave to depart. I will see to it that you return home safely. Leave things as you see them here. My own security forces will arrive momentarily to deal with them. You have done well."
Lofwyr spread his wings wide, his gaze sweeping over the room one last time.
"Farewell."
he said, flying up through the ceiling.
"A game." Silverblade repeated quietly. "Winternight, Runenthing, Goronay, even a nuclear threat, all for no more than a game."
Trouble came over and laid a hand on Talon's shoulder as he stood, staring at the ceiling.
"You okay?"
"Hmm? Oh yeah, I'm fine, for somebody who's been possessed by a dragon. I was just thinking about what might have happened if Alamais had decided not to give in. He was willing to kill everyone here, to maybe even start a war, and all of it part of some kind of chess-match with Lofwyr. Now I know why they say never deal with a dragon."
For a moment, silence held the room, until Boom cleared his throat and looked around at his teammates.
"Well, chummers," he said, "who's up for taking in the rest of what sounds to be a great concert? If Ragnarock is here, I don't want to miss it."
Several days later, Talon was back in Boston, waiting on a darkened street for Mr. Brackhaus. He'd received the call earlier that day and arrived at the meet site a little early. Aracos shifted from his motorcycle form back into the astral plane to keep watch, as usual. Aracos had recovered completely from his injuries sustained in the fight with Alamais, and had returned to his usual self.
The runners bid farewell to Speren Silverblade before they left Germany. He paid them the agreed upon amount from a secret account used by the Tir government. Silverblade seemed almost reluctant to bid farewell to the shadowrunners. The haughty elf actually clasped Talon's hand before he left.
"You are a skilled mage, and a capable warrior." Silverblade said. "For a
goronagee
." He smiled, a genuine smile. "I would be pleased to consider you a
sersakhan,
a friend."
"Sielle."
Talon replied. "I am honored."
"You speak Sperethiel?" Silverblade asked, with a raised eyebrow.
Talon shrugged slightly. "Not much, but you pick up things here and there."
"I hope we have the opportunity to work together again."
"That doesn't seem likely, in our line of work."
Silverblade gave his enigmatic smile once more. "As you are fond of saying, you never know. Who can say what Fate holds in store for us. Farewell,
Tesetilaro."
Then he slipped away into the night, presumably to find his own way back home.
"He's coming boss."
Aracos said in Talon's mind. A few moments later, a nondescript black Eurocar turned the corner and prowled up the street, pulling over to the snow-covered curb. The back door opened silently, and Talon got in.
"Herr Talon." said the man sitting in the back seat.
"Mr. Brackhaus."
It was a different Mr. Brackhaus, of course. Talon had expected that. This man was lighter-haired, with craggy, Nordic features and pale eyes that Talon suspected were implants. He didn't know what had become of the Brackhaus he'd dealt with before all this started. He didn't really want to know. The man wasn't as important as the position. As long as Saeder-Krupp employed shadowrunners, "Hans Brackhaus" would be around.
"You seem well." Brackhaus observed, which Talon found interesting, since he was sure he'd never met the man before.
"My employer wished me to contact you." Brackhaus went on, skipping further pleasantries. "To complete your earlier agreement."
He reached slowly into the inside pocket of his dark suit jacket and withdrew a credstick, which he handed over to Talon. Talon took it and slotted the credstick into the portable data-reader he pulled from his own jacket pocket.
"It contains the remainder of the monies agreed upon, plus a small bonus for your good work." Brackhaus said.
Talon barely managed to keep his expression neutral as he read the numbers on the display screen. The amount was twice what was still owed to his team. A "small bonus" indeed. It would be enough money to replace all the equipment the team lost and then some, with enough left over for them to live off for a good while.
"My employer also asked me to give you this." Brackhaus produced a flat wooden box from a compartment in the back of the car's front seat and handed it over reverently. Talon rested the box on his knees for a moment. It was beautifully carved, almost certainly hand-made, from some dark-stained wood, smoothly polished. The design featured medieval images of knights and dragons. Talon wondered how old it was and made a mental note to have a friend of Boom's who dealt in antiquities take a look. He carefully lifted the hinged lid.
