Dragon Fire (36 page)

“Ready?”
asked T’eng Sten. He put a hand on Rakan’s shoulder, steadying him.

Rakan nodded and T’eng Sten morphed, his energy unfurling around them like an enormous gong. Rakan stumbled back, looking at the colossal indigo dragon who glittered like a jewel in the thin night air. T’eng Sten stretched his wings and sat back on his haunches, baring his vulnerable underbelly. It sparkled with the multicolored scales of his kais. The Kairök’s power rippled out over the clay forest and Rakan bowed his head. The Kairök was magnificent.

Rakan’s blood throbbed and thickened and then flickered. He didn’t want to fly; he wanted to feel water flow through him. Like a water dragon. He yelled in indignation and burst into his air dragon form, standing on his haunches, his wings outstretched, fire billowing from his throat. Ready to fight.

T’eng Sten slammed him to the ground and bit his throat.
“Easy, Rakan. Relax.”

A warm wave of healing surrounded Rakan and he went limp. Why did he crave an element that wasn’t his? His mother was gone from his system, wasn’t she? Another wave of anger ripped through him.

“Fly with me. Now.”
It was a command and Rakan latched onto it, desperate to bring his rök back under control. Rakan trailed the Kairök like a puppy on a training flight. T’eng Sten arched and turned, moving with the air currents, and Rakan followed blindly. And then the Kairök began setting Rakan up for unexpected turns that knocked him off the current until Rakan was flying next to T’eng Sten. They followed the currents together, trying to second guess the other’s move in a flowing dance of equals.

T’eng Sten folded his wings and plummeted, stopping himself and morphing just as he was about to hit the ground. Rakan alighted in front of him but didn’t morph. He wasn’t ready to go back to his human form just yet. He put his head down on the ground between his two front legs, in a gesture of thanks.

T’eng Sten smiled and put his hands on Rakan’s triangular head that was as big as he was, rubbing his palms lightly across the thin scales around his eyes.
“Be safe, Firebird,”
he said and shifted, leaving Rakan alone in the night.

Rakan eased himself into the ground, creating a smooth depression to curl up in. He knew that he should make a shield but wasn’t sure if he had the energy. He reached his mind out and felt a shield. Rakan lifted his head. The Kairök had realized that he wouldn’t be coming back to Yarlung’s tonight and had shielded him.
“Thank you,”
he said, even though no one could hear him.

Rakan settled back down and examined their grey trails. They were geometric ghosts of what they looked like in the daylight. He liked analyzing their patterns without the distraction of color. But where there should have been the single strand of his rök, there was a twisted double strand. Rakan scrambled out of his nest and turned to stare at his trail, his nostrils quivering. It couldn’t be. It wasn’t possible. His claws sank into the ground. The Kairök’s trail was normal. But his wasn’t.

* * *

Anna scurried down the street. She was almost at the Tibet House. She reached out mentally to make sure Dawa was still there. She heaved a sigh of relief. She was. Anna shook her head. Had anyone told her she’d be running to see Dawa at 9 o’clock on a Saturday night, she would never have believed them.

She ran up the steps, two by two. And stopped. All the lights were out. The nun must be asleep. She searched to see if there were two doorbells, but there weren’t. Anna groaned. She couldn’t just wake up the nun.

Cursing to herself and wishing she had Dawa’s phone number, she walked down the steps and looked up to the second floor. The lights were on. Dawa was awake. Anna glanced around for something to throw at the window, but there was nothing. Except some very wet snow. She cupped a handful and aimed for a window, but it disintegrated before getting that far. She pressed more snow together, making it as compact as possible. She aimed and threw it at the window. “Yes,” she said as it hit with a satisfying splat. And then she waited. Nothing happened. No one came. She grabbed another fistful of snow and tried again. A couple walked down the street, leaning happily into each other. Anna held her next snowball in her now freezing hands, waiting for them to pass.

The front door cracked open and the nun poked her head out. Anna hurried back up the stairs. “Good evening,” she said breathlessly. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but I was wondering if I could see Dawa?”

Ani-la smiled and said something in Tibetan and Anna thought she heard Pemba-la and Dawa-la, but wasn’t sure about anything else. Anna pointed to her chest and pointed upstairs, “Can I go upstairs?”

The nun shook her head and made a sleeping gesture.

“Dawa. Can you go get Dawa?” asked Anna. She pointed at the nun and tried to show her going upstairs to get Dawa with her hands.

The nun answered, but Anna understood nothing. “Please?” Anna said, putting her hands together like a prayer.

The nun responded with the same gesture and shut the door. Anna leaned her forehead against the cold wood. Had the nun understood? Or had she just said goodnight? She waited without moving. Counting the interminable seconds and walking her mind down the hallway, up the stairs, waiting for Dawa to open her door, telling her to come downstairs… and still she heard no noise from inside the house.

Her fingers ached from the slush. Why hadn’t Dawa heard her? Her head began to swim as an unexpected wave of nausea ran through her. Anna groaned and tried to will herself through the door. But it stood stiff and unyielding. It had been too long. No one was coming. Anna sank to her knees, one hand on her stomach and the other on the door. She wasn’t going to make it home. She reached for the doorbell, but it was beyond her grasp. Her eyes welled in frustration. “Please,” she croaked. “Please.”

The door opened and Ani-la began speaking rapidly, but Anna barely heard her.

“Dawa?” Anna asked, looking around desperately.

Ani-la shook her head and tried to explain something again, gesturing at Anna and gesturing upstairs. Ani-la helped Anna to her feet and led her inside. Anna stumbled down the hallway, barely even aware that Ani-la had led her to the same room as she had been in with Pemba. “Dawa?” she asked again, hanging on to the nun. “Dawa?”

The nun answered and then left the room backwards, bowing as she went. Anna leaned back. Dawa. She needed to see Dawa.

She heard the nun and Dawa arguing and wished she could crawl up the stairs. She tried to stand but fell to her knees. “Dawa,” she said. Her legs were like squids. She lay on the floor, tears flowing in frustration. Get a grip. She hoisted herself onto her elbows and began pulling herself forward. One inch at a time.

The nun came in and exclaimed frantically, calling out to Dawa. She tried to get Anna to her feet but couldn’t. “Dawa-la,” she yelled.

And then Dawa was there, helping her to her feet, getting her back onto the ottoman. The nun suddenly reappeared with a large thermos of tea, talking all the while to Dawa. She offered Anna a cup which Dawa took for her. The nun nodded and backed out of the room, her hands in prayer.

“Anna,” said Dawa. “Can you hear me? I’m going to shift you upstairs, don’t—”

Anna clung to Dawa, but her fingers closed around nothingness and she fell forward. And onto a bed. “Ughh,” she groaned. Everything was spinning around her. She was hallucinating. A hand slapped her cheek and she snapped to attention. “Kariaksuq?”

“Good, you’re not totally out of it. Always hard to know how much poison a human needs. But I want you to be awake. For
all
of it.” Kariaksuq waved a hand over her and Anna felt cold.

“What?” Anna looked down. She was dressed in a short pink negligee. And nothing else. “Where are my clothes? Where are we?” Her words slurred.

“In Ulf’s apartment. And you’re my little going away present to him. He’ll enjoy you so much.” Kariaksuq yanked Anna’s arms up over her head and lashed them to the bed.

“No,” Anna gasped, squirming blindly.

“Enough,” said Kariaksuq, slapping her so hard that her breath snagged. “Tell your little boyfriend about it. And tell him it’s my payback.”

Suddenly, Dawa was in the room, flying at Kariaksuq like a wild panther in full motion. Kariaksuq slammed into the large wooden dresser, scattering things everywhere. Kariaksuq howled and lunged. Dawa flipped her onto her back and straddled her. Anna could hear the sickening thump of fists meeting flesh as Dawa pummeled Kariaksuq. Anna pulled at her bindings, trying to undo the ropes that held her hands. But all she managed to do was to tighten them further. The cord bit into her wrists and her fingers went numb.

The room exploded in fireworks. They were gone. Anna’s head swam. She no longer knew if she was standing or lying down. She tried to hang onto something, anything, but it slipped out of her grasp.

Everything slipped out of her grasp.

* * *

“Dvara,” yelled Rakan into the dark of the now moonless night. He shifted to where he had felt her, in Ulf’s apartment, dropping to his knees in exhaustion at the same time as T’eng Sten arrived with both knives drawn.

“Where’s Dvara?” hissed T’eng Sten. He scanned the bedroom, sniffing the air. “Kariaksuq.”

“Ulf?” Rakan struggled to stand when he saw Ulf bending over Anna. “Get away from her!” He sent Ulf flying across the room and into the walk-in closet behind the bed.

“Anna, what happened?” But she was unconscious.

“What was that for?” asked Ulf. He wobbled to his feet, holding a hand to his face. “I was just trying to help her. How did you get in here anyhow?”

“What did you give her?” yelled Rakan. He punched Ulf in the gut, sending him back into the closet.

“Enough,” said T’eng Sten. He froze Ulf and grabbed Rakan. “You’re a trailer. Tell me which one is real.”

Rakan turned to the writhing mass of trails that covered the room. It was simplistic compared to how the Old Dragon in Tromso worked. He cleared his mind and looked for the trails with the mark of the rök. “There.” He pointed to where Dvara had been pummeling Kariaksuq. “She was about to kill Kariaksuq when a dozen others came and shifted them to…” he saw a mountain, not far away. He put a hand on T’eng Sten.
“There.”

T’eng Sten disappeared, but even the fraction of a second that Rakan had touched him was enough to feel the pulsing anger of the Kairök’s Cairn as they shifted with him. Ready to kill. Rakan jerked his hand back, even though T’eng Sten was already gone. He turned to the bed. Anna was lying on her back. Unconscious, but alive. Her hands were blue from the cords that were still wrapped around her wrists. Rakan dissolved the bindings and cursed. They were made from dragon gut. He’d have a hard time healing them completely. He put a hand on her head and touched his forehead to her cheek. He felt the poison inside her. Dragon poison. He tightened his grip.

“June!” he yelled. He reached out to find her, but she immediately blocked him. He cursed. She was downtown with Erling. Rakan stood, unwilling to leave Anna alone, but also sure that if he didn’t get help quickly it would be too late.

Before he could decide, Red slammed into him and knocked him to the ground. “What have you done to her?” Red pulled Rakan back up, ready to punch him again.

“Nothing.” Rakan blocked his aggressor. “I’m trying to help her.” Rakan gripped Red’s shoulders. “You just shifted in here,” he said, feeling a rush of hope. He didn’t care who or what Red was if he could help Anna. “Can you neutralize dragon poison?”

Red let go of Rakan and dropped to his knees near the bed. He put a hand on Anna’s barely breathing form. “I feel a female and your sister,” growled Red. “I’ll save her first. And then I’ll kill you.”

Rakan sat next to Anna, his hand on her side. Red leaned his head on Anna’s. His disheveled hair was exactly the same color as hers. Just like his pale-blue eyes. Even his smell was similar. And yet he had shifted. He had to be a dragon. Or could humans learn? He scanned Red while he worked. Everything he was wearing, which was only a pair of jeans and white tee-shirt, was human made. He had no shoes, no weapons, no Maii-a. Rakan let his mind slip into Anna, and felt Red, gently but surely neutralizing and dissolving the orange coral poison. His poison. Rakan jerked up with a start.

“You lied,” snarled Red. He turned and yanked Rakan off the bed.

“I didn’t,” hissed Rakan, blocking Red’s hook to his temple.

“It’s your poison.”

“I saw that. But I didn’t poison her.”

“Stop it,” wailed Anna. “I can’t stand anymore fighting.”

They turned to her in unison.

“Anna,” Rakan said. He knelt in front of her and took her hand. “Are you alright?”

“Who did this to you?” asked Red. “No, don’t try to sit up. You’re not ready yet.”

“I’m cold,” she said, sinking back down.

Rakan pulled up a blanket, only then realizing that Anna was dressed in a flimsy pink cloth that barely covered the top of her thighs. He hissed. “Yttresken.”

“What?” Anna said.

Red shrugged. “The clothing is from the female who brought her here.” He glared at Rakan. “But the poison was yours.”

“What poison?” mumbled Anna.

Rakan examined the caked blood on Anna’s wrists. He ran a finger over them, healing the wound. But he couldn’t take away the pain that pulsed under the surface. Or diminish the ugly pink welts. “What happened?” he asked. “How did you get here?”