Beyond the Pale (31 page)

Talon had awakened shortly after, and his aura seemed
remarkably undamaged. He’d sat up, looking like he’d been tossed into an Urban Brawl match without body armor—bruises on his face and body. But nothing that wouldn’t heal. He was mostly in need of rest.

Ryan had changed back into his human form, and he immediately authorized a month of corporate-funded R and R for the whole team. Then Ryan had said goodbye to the others and had hopped a private plane for Washington FDC.

Axler, Grind, and Talon went with Dhin to the Assets, Inc. compound. And from there they’d probably take separate vacations to Fiji, the Caymans, or wherever they wanted.

Nadja had been waiting at National Airport when he stepped off the plane. She had looked into his eyes, long and hard, searching for the truth of who he was.

“It’s still me,” he said, though he wondered if he knew what that meant anymore.

She put her arms around him and held him tight. “I know,” she said. “I know.”

“Believe me,” Ryan said. “I’m more surprised at what happened than anyone.”

Nadja laughed. “Guess we know who Dunkelzahn’s successor is.”

“I hope that doesn’t mean my daily job will consist of fighting the supreme forces of darkness.”

“Quit whining,” Nadja said. “It pays well and you get a full benefits package.” She stepped away from him and modeled her body so that he knew exactly what she meant.

“Well, if you put it that way . . .” Ryan swept her into his arms. He had held onto her, letting her guide him to the limousine. He had found himself whispering, “I love you.” Over and over. His face had been wet with tears.

He had cried all the way home.

Now, in the living room of the mansion, Nadja silently entered the room. She wore her green silk robe and matching slippers, and Ryan saw fatigue in her eyes. She said nothing as she slid into the big chair next to him and draped her arm across his chest.

The smell of her filled the air around him as she nuzzled her head into the hollow of his neck. The fragrance of her essence. The warmth of her body, lazily cuddled next to him, was the most perfect and comfortable sensation in his entire existence.

There can be nothing better.

Harlequin looked up at Ryan. “Before we all fall asleep,” he said. “I’d like to propose a toast to Dunkelzahn.” He raised his glass.

Ryan opened his eyes and lifted his drink. “To Dunkelzahn,” he said. “May he rest in peace.”

“A truly heroic creature,” Harlequin said. “Whose sacrifice saved the world from impending destruction.”

Ryan gave him a puzzled look.

Harlequin was nodding, knowingly. “The Dragon Heart,” he said. “I figured out how it was created, how such a powerful item could exist so early in the cycle. Its power came from Dunkelzahn. He killed himself in order to give his essence to the Dragon Heart.”

“Is that possible?”

Harlequin just continued to nod. “It all makes sense. The inexplicable explosion in front of the Watergate Hotel. The manastorm left behind.”

Harlequin gazed into Ryan’s eyes. “Dunkelzahn knew that Darke and the Azzies were trying to extend the spike at the Great Ghost Dance site. I had told him myself, and boy was he pissed off at my solution. In retrospect, he was right. Thayla was a good temporary solution, but she was vulnerable. In my hubris I couldn’t see that.”

“So when I told him about the Locus—” Ryan started. “He realized that time was getting short. He had been stockpiling orichalcum, and had secretly fashioned the Dragon Heart—an item designed to manipulate mana on a scale such that it would be able to destroy unnatural spikes. Dunkelzahn had his solution then, but he needed to power it. I believe he’d been set up to sacrifice himself all
along. It was just a matter of when.”

“So he gave up his life to power the Heart?”

“Like I said, he was a true hero.” Harlequin drank once more from his cognac, and when he spoke again his voice was thick with emotion. “He gave himself completely to the salvation of the world, and he took no credit for it. This was no lightweight personal vendetta, no false pride.” Harlequin bowed his head, and his voice went soft.

“Ryan, I have done my share to keep the Enemy at bay, but I could never have imagined making the sacrifice that Dunkelzahn made. Even had I conceived of the dire urgency, which I didn’t because in my pride, I expected Thayla to be practically invulnerable.”

Harlequin looked up, staring into Ryan’s eyes. “You realize that Dunkelzahn was powerful enough that he could probably have survived the Enemy, but that wasn’t good enough, he wanted
everyone
to survive. He saw hope in the future of metahumanity, and he wanted to ensure that future even if it meant giving up his belongings, his place among the immortals. His very life.”

Ryan sat and watched as the tears flowed down Harlequin’s cheeks.

“He is the hero, and I sit humbled.”

Ryan took a sip from his glass. The sweet burn of the cognac soothed the back of his throat and nudged him toward sleep. Exhaustion and alcohol threatened to carry him under the soft blanket of slumber.

“You are like him, Ryan Mercury,” Harlequin said, his makeup smeared from crying. “You share his heroic qualities, I have seen that. And your nature is most uncommon.”

“How is that?”

“A drake, my friend. A dragon servant.”

“What do you know of drakes?” Ryan asked.

Harlequin considered for a time. Then he spoke, “Other than you, there are no known drakes in the Sixth World. Long ago, before the magic fell, many drakes existed. They were perhaps created by the great dragons, or enslaved in order to serve them. In that way we are not dissimilar.”

“How do you mean?”

“Some elves were once bound to serve the great dragons.”

“How do you know . . . Never mind.”

Harlequin smiled. “You are right to be wary of certain questions,” he said. “But I will tell you this; there are those who will seek to destroy you because of what you are.”

“Why?”

“Again questions.” But Harlequin was still smiling. “For your longevity and magic
.
Drakes are magical creatures, perhaps even more so than dragons. It is too early in the mana rise for you to have manifested. It’s only because of the extreme surge in mana that Lethe sent through you that you changed so soon.

“Over your lifetime, which could easily span the entire Sixth World, you will gain power. You may be hunted now while your power is modest because of your potential to upset an ancient balance of power when you are older, stronger. Or you may be in danger from other great dragons whose agendas’ conflict with Dunkelzahn’s. It is best to keep your nature completely secret.”

“What about those who already know?”

“Do you trust your runners?”

Ryan considered for a minute. “Yes,” he said.

Harlequin nodded. “Good. And you can be certain that I’m not going to tell anyone and neither will Foster. Aina and I are both at odds with the others who share our . . . gifts. We don’t agree with those who manipulate and plot for power, presuming to know what’s best for all the world. Anyhow, I think Aina is on your side for a while; she was impressed with your performance at the bridge.”

Harlequin paused to finish off his cognac. “Your conduct has been truly heroic, my friend. I congratulate you.”

“We’ve all made sacrifices,” Ryan said. “Aina, Lethe, Nadja, Foster. Everyone. Including you.”

Harlequin merely nodded.

Ryan took a last sip from his glass. “Can I ask you a favor, Harlequin?”

The elf looked up.

“You say that I am magical in nature,” Ryan said. “You are the best mage I know. Will you teach me how to use my magic?”

A smile broke through. “I would consider it an honor, my friend.”

“Thank you,” Ryan said as he sank deeper into the cushions, running his hands through Nadja’s dark hair. The flush of sleep overtook him as he sat in the waning rays of sunlight coming through the window. The love of his life cuddled next to him.

What could be better?

Sleep overcame him and pulled him into a world of pleasant oblivion.

Epilogue

Lethe straightened up to his full height, Billy’s physical body under his complete control. Billy had become part of him, their spirits fused somehow by the rushing flood of mana that had pulsed through them and the Dragon Heart.

He stood on the edge of the cliff and stared out across the Chasm. No evidence of a spike or bridge remained on either side now. Lethe had used the Dragon Heart to level out the mana. He knew what its purpose was now.

He knew that it had been created not only to decimate the bridge, but to even out all of the mana spikes. To prevent premature contact.

Trees grew up around him now, the cracked rock desert replaced with a forest full of life and energy. His work here was nearly complete, and soon he would move on to the next spot. The next unnatural spike of mana.

Lethe would use the Dragon Heart to smooth it out, then move on. And on until every point of abnormally high mana had been leveled flat, its energy dispersed throughout the world.

The Dragon Heart was fused to his body now, and it had
become a part of his spirit as well. Lethe had remembered things as it merged with him. He recalled the burning fire and the rainbow portal. He recalled anger and frustration at the elf with the painted face.

Suddenly, as the mana inside him, inside his Dragon Heart, merged with his expanding consciousness, everything clicked into place. The fire was an explosion, a bomb that immolated him. The portal was created by a magic ritual, it was a conduit for life energy.

Lethe remembered much more. Flashes of a life before being named by Thayla. Smells and images came back to him. Memories that spanned millennia came rushing back with wonderful, exquisite clarity.

He had not known what would happen when he died. But the sacrifice had been absolutely necessary.

Now, as he began moving along the edge of the cliff, he remembered the one thing that had evaded him. The one thing that defined his existence.

He remembered his previous incarnation.

He recalled his name.

Dunkelzahn.

About the Author

Beyond the Pale,
Book Three of Jak Koke’s Dragon Heart Saga, completes the story of Ryan Mercury and the Dragon Heart which began in
Stranger Souls
and continued in
Clockwork Asylum.

Koke has also written two other novels set in FASA - created universes. His first,
Dead Air,
was a stand-alone book in the Shadowrun® world and was published by Roc books in 1996. His second,
Liferock,
is his only fantasy novel so far and will soon be published by FASA Corporation as part of its Earthdawn® series.

Both solo and in collaboration with Jonathan Bond, Koke has also sold short stories to Amazing Stories and Pulphouse: A Fiction Magazine, and has contributed to several anthologies such as
Rat Tales
by Pulphouse,
Young Blood
by Zebra, and
Talisman,
an Earthdawn® anthology.

Koke invites you to visit his web site at
http:
II
ursula
. uoregon.edu
I
~jkoke. You can also send him comments about this and any of his Shadowrun® books care of FASA Corporation.

He and his wife Seana Davidson, a marine microbiologist, live in California with their five-year-old daughter, Michaela.

MEMO

FROM: JANE-IN-THE-BOX
TO: NADJA DAVIAR
DATE: 20 AUGUST 2057
RE: THE LEGEND OF THAYLA

Dunkelzahn’s Institute of Magical Research just unearthed this document. Thought you’d be interested. Text follows:

Ages ago, before written memory began, lived a queen of great beauty and even greater heart. Thayla reigned over a rich green valley nestled between two mountain ranges that rose like spikes into the heavens. Under her rule, the land she loved prospered, and her people lived their days in joy.

Each morning Thayla greeted the rising sun with a Song. She sang in a voice as clear as the air and as bright as the great burning orb itself. Nothing foul or dark could prosper in her land, for her voice was too pure for such abominations to bear.

One night an army of dark creatures made to enter the valley, seeking to overrun the prosperous land and corrupt it with their vile presence. Thayla rose that morning as she always did, and upon seeing the black army, sang. Her voice filled the valley with power and hope.

The evil horde, shown the depravity of their existence by her voice, had no choice but to flee. And as they did—running and flying with wild abandon for refuge beyond the valley—one black soldier slowed and, for the briefest of moments, listened to Thayla’s Song.

Days passed, and the terrible army remained beyond the valley, fearful of the Song. Finally, driven by their dark masters, they surged forward again. And again
T
hayla sang.

As before the foul creatures fell back blindly, unable to stand even a few pure notes of her voice. But again the lone, tall warrior with hair and eyes of dark fire lingered and listened, if only for a few moments, before fleeing the valley.