Dragonseed (49 page)

Zeeky reached out and placed a hand on his muscular shoulder. “Not yet,” she whispered. The pig looked at her with an expression approaching pleading.

“I know,” Zeeky whispered, squatting down to his side. “You want to see some action. I promise, you’ll get your chance soon.”

As they spoke, the shower of sparks caught her eyes. A sky-dragon with a silver skull cap and starry wings stood next to Blasphet, bowing as he greeted the room. She recognized him as Vendevorex from the battle of the Free City—the dragon Jandra thought of as her father.

Bitterwood stood next to her and Jeremiah, but had his attention on Vendevorex. He grumbled, “Doesn’t anyone stay dead anymore?”

“It’s a pleasure to see you as well,” said the sky-dragon.

Jandra crossed her arms. Zeeky knew this wasn’t the body language of a daughter reuniting with her father. Jandra said, “So that we can hurry things along and get back to my news, let me fill everyone in on what’s happened.”

“Please do,” said Hex.

Jandra looked at Vendevorex and said, “You died, but with your nanites already programmed to repair your wounds. Unguided after your skull cap was removed, they kept your body in a state of cellular stasis until Blasphet revived it. But he couldn’t have restored your mind, could he? Somehow, he brought you back in contact with your old skull cap—the one Hex stole from me.”

“And buried here in this barn,” said Hex.

“When I brought Vendevorex to the Free City, he was a soulless shell,” Blasphet said. “He possessed all the motions of life—he breathed on his own, and if you gave him water, he would swallow—but he was completely devoid of will. I hoped that, as my understanding of my new abilities grew, I might one day restore his mind. Yet, when I brought him into this barn, he slowly began to recover on his own. At first, he possessed no memories, but within days he was fully restored.”

Jandra nodded. “That’s because you’d brought his body into the control range of his old genie. The device possessed a map of his brain at the time of his death, and guided the nanites in reconstructing Vendevorex’s personality.”

“How can you know all of this?” Hex asked Jandra.

“It’s simple enough to put together,” Jandra said. “Obvious, really.”

“Your powers of deduction are impressive,” said Vendevorex. “I was planning to find you soon. I know that my death must have caused you a great deal of emotional stress.”

“Oh,” said Jandra, nodding. “Totally.”

Vendevorex narrowed his eyes.

Jandra uncrossed her arms. “Now that everybody’s up to speed, let’s focus on me again.” She waved her hand in the air and a flat white disk of spinning light formed before her. Quickly, the light took on the shape of a green island surrounded by a bright blue ocean. The spires of impossibly tall buildings thrust up from the greenery.

“This is Atlantis,” said Jandra. “It’s a city of six billion people, who all have the same technology used by the goddess. They made the genies Vendevorex and I -–and now Blasphet— draw our powers from. These people have powers best described as godlike—but, in one special way, they possess a weakness that leaves them exceedingly vulnerable to attack.”

Blasphet craned his long black neck toward the image of the island for a better look. “Why would you wish to attack such a place? Think of the good I’ve accomplished with my limited understanding of their tools. If they shared their secrets, we could end all suffering.”

“But they don’t share,” said Vendevorex. “They guard their secrets jealously. When Atlantis first came to earth, it decreed that anyone who wanted to experience its bounty would have to live upon its shores. Anyone who didn’t would lose access to its miracles.”

“Why?” asked Blasphet. “Why possess such power if you don’t intend to use it?”

“At the time, the world had gone over the precipice of environmental collapse,” said Jandra. “Vast swathes of the ocean were dead zones. The world was experiencing a mass extinction that rivaled the disappearance of the dinosaurs. The cause was human civilization. The goddess was clever enough to constrain civilization to this remote, artificial island. She allowed the continents to return to a state of wildness, or near wildness. Atlantis provided a way for her to cut out the cancer of humanity so that the body of the earth could heal itself.”

Vendevorex scowled. “This meshes with the story I was told, though with somewhat different motivations attributed to the goddess.”

“That’s because, while I was in Atlantis, I discovered you were a pawn,” Jandra said. “You were given your genie by a woman named Cassie, who was Jazz’s sister and lifelong rival. Cassie wanted you to spread the technology among dragons, so that Atlantis would regain its awareness of the outside world and wipe out dragon-kind. Cassie views dragons as biological contaminants—leftover relics of genetic engineering that don’t belong in the ecosphere.”

 “It’s fortunate I didn’t behave as expected.”

As Jandra and Vendevorex talked, Bitterwood crouched next to Zeeky. He whispered, “Is that really Jandra?”

“It’s her body,” said Zeeky. “But not her mind. Right now, if you kill Jazz, you’ll kill Jandra.”

“I’m willing to make that sacrifice,” whispered Bitterwood. “You saw what the goddess can do.”

Zeeky shook her head. “Jandra’s still alive inside her. We can save her.”

“How?”

Zeeky motioned for Bitterwood to pay attention to Jandra/Jazz once more.

“So, here’s the plan,” said Jandra. “Hex, Bitterwood, and Blasphet: you all have a passion for breaking things. I want you to help me break Atlantis. We can steal the wonders there and share them with everyone. Vendevorex, I wasn’t expecting you, but you’ll be useful as well. Once I trigger the jammer, you’ll be one of the few minds on earth that will be able use the Atlantean tech to its full potential.”

“So you know their weakness,” said Vendevorex.

“Yes,” said Jandra. “This is why you had me study all those books on chemistry and physics. If I want to make an antidote to a poison, I need to understand the physical properties of the molecule I need to counteract it. I have this knowledge for the same reason you and Jazz did—I spent years with my nose buried in books memorizing a lot of boring stuff.”

“This is also why Blasphet adapted so quickly to the genie,” said Vendevorex. “He’s spent decades studying the workings of the body and the chemistry of countless poisons.”

“Unlike the Atlanteans who haven’t had to study anything for the last thousand years,” said Jandra. “They have instant access to the city mind, a repository of all shared knowledge. They don’t need to memorize the chemical and physical changes needed to turn water into wine. They don’t even need to remember their own names. Whenever they want to know something, they ask the city. If they were cut off from the city mind, they’d be helpless.”

“The city mind is too sophisticated for simple radio jamming, however,” said Vendevorex.

“Wrong,” said Jandra. “The goddess developed algorithms for jamming signals that will cripple the Atlantean network. The city mind will be able to crack the code in a matter of minutes, but we aren’t going to give it minutes. Are you with me?”

Hex nodded. “Jandra, you have my promise I won’t let you out of my sight.”

Zeeky could tell from the sound of his voice that Hex suspected the woman before him was more Jazz than Jandra.

“I knew I could count on you.” She looked toward Bitterwood. “How about you?”

Before Bitterwood could speak, Zeeky blurted out, “He’ll go. I will too.”

Bitterwood jerked his head toward her. “No,” he said. “I’ll go if you wish, but I’m not taking you and Jeremiah into a battle with gods.”

Zeeky shrugged. “Okay,” she said. Bitterwood frowned at her easy agreement.

Jandra, meanwhile, had turned to face Blasphet. “I assume I can count on you? Killing a city is certainly worthy work for a Murder God.”

“No,” said Blasphet.

“No?”

“I’ll never again act to harm another living being.”

Jandra sighed as she motioned toward the model city constructed from light. It bubbled away. She said, “I don’t know who you’re trying to fool with this good guy act, but you weren’t part of my original plan anyway.”

Vendevorex said, “I shall go. My familiarity with Atlantis could prove useful.”

Jandra nodded. “Good enough. Let’s roll.”

She traced a half circle in the air and a rainbow formed in the wake of her motion, slowly opening into a yawning void.

“Next stop, Atlantis,” she said, stepping toward the gate.

Suddenly, a man shouted, “Wait!”

It was Shay, sporting silver wings, floating in the doorway next to Burke. His wings folded behind him as he dropped to the ground and ran toward Jandra.

Jandra flinched as Shay threw his arms around her. “You’re back!” he cried, hugging her with all his might. She awkwardly lifted her arms to pat his back.

“Yeah,” she said, pushing away from him. “But, as much as I’d like to catch up, I’m kind of busy right now. I have a city I need to go wreck.”

“Jandra?” Shay asked, sounding confused. “It is you, right?”

“Of course,” she said, smiling. “I pushed Jazz out of my brain. But, you know me. I’m always rushing off on some new mission.”

“Then I’m coming with you,” said Shay.

“I don’t know that that’s a good idea. You’re not really the warrior type. Bitterwood and Hex are more the firepower I need.”

Poocher snorted indignantly. Zeeky knew he felt slighted not to be included on the list of great warriors present.

“Shay,” said Burke, laying his hand on the red-headed man’s shoulder. “I know your reunion with Jandra is important, but if we can get the items you mentioned, I’d appreciate it. I’ve been away from Dragon Forge too long.”

“Of course,” said Shay. “Hex, do you still have your pack?”

Hex nodded, placing the large leather bag onto the straw-covered floor. Shay opened it and pulled out several silver disks like the one that sat between his shoulder blades.

“Stick these on your back and think about flying. You’ll sprout wings. I have six more sets,” Shay said. “That’s enough for you and Anza, plus Vance and Thorny if they want to go with you.”

“And me,” said Jeremiah.

All eyes turned toward the twelve-year-old. He stood up from where he’d been sitting. He pulled out a knife that had been tucked into his belt. “This is Vulpine’s knife. It’s not his only weapon here. He gave me yellow-mouth so that I’d make everyone at Dragon Forge sick. If you’re going back, I want to come. I want to take a big handful of the dragonseed back to heal anyone who got ill because of me.”

“Boy, I didn’t drag you all this way to heal you so that you could go off and get yourself killed,” said Bitterwood. “Let someone else take back the dragonseed.”

“You’re going off to fight in a city of gods. Zeeky’s stood up to dragons and angels. If my younger sister can fight these battles, so can I.”

“I don’t want Zeeky fighting these battles,” said Bitterwood. “But your sister has powers. She can control the minds of animals. She can talk to ghosts and see the future.”

Zeeky didn’t think Bitterwood described what she could do correctly, but she held her tongue. She knew exactly how the next ten minutes were going to play out. In ten minutes, she would follow Bitterwood through the underspace gate to Atlantis. That’s where her knowledge of the future ended. Whatever waited in Atlantis, the voices either couldn’t see, or wouldn’t say.

Jeremiah walked over to the disks and picked one up. “You’re right. Zeeky was born with powers. She’s the one who could talk to animals. She once talked a bear out of eating our grandma.” He stuck the disk on his back. He scrunched up his face, as if he were about to sneeze. Whatever mental signal he sent the disk worked. Silver wings unfolded from his shoulders, flashing in the candlelight.

“I should at least have wings,” he said, as his feet lifted from the ground.

Zeeky had to admit, the wings looked good on him.

Bitterwood, however, wasn’t convinced. “Jeremiah, you ran when the long-wyrms raided your village. You ran from the battle at Dead Skunk Hole. Why are you suddenly so brave?”

Jeremiah gave Bitterwood a serious look. “I heard Blasphet tell you how it feels to die. It’s the same way I felt fifteen minutes ago, before he healed me. As horrible as death feels, it’s not as bad as being afraid. It’s time I grew up.”

Vance butted in. “There are other rebels his age at the fort.”

Bitterwood clenched his jaw. Zeeky placed her hand on his fist. “Let him go,” she said.

 “Will he be alright?”

“Yes,” she said, though she didn’t know his fate beyond the next few minutes. But he wasn’t going to be killed in that small window of time, so it wasn’t really a lie.

Vance and Thorny took their wings and Anza grabbed a disk for both herself and her father. In the aftermath, only one disk remained.

With an excited snort, Poocher trotted up, staring at Shay with a look somewhere between pleading and demanding.

Burke looked curious. “Would they even work for him?”

“I don’t see how,” said Shay. “They’re controlled by thought.”

“Hey!” Zeeky snapped. “Poocher thinks! He’s as smart as you, just in different ways. Can you find edible roots by sniffing around? He’s not even a year old and I bet he could survive alone in the woods better than you. Don’t tell me he doesn’t think.”

Shay looked suitably chastised. “Fine. It can’t hurt to try.”

He sat the silver disk between Poocher’s shoulder blades. The pig turned around in a circle, as if he were trying to see the disk on his back, which his fat neck wouldn’t allow. After his third revolution, he closed his eyes and scrunched up his snout. His wings unfolded. He floated off the ground, looking smug.

Everyone in the room knew there was something that needed to be said. But not even Hex, who’d never shown any fear of an obvious joke, dared say it.

BURKE SOARED INTO
the night sky. Shay led the way, shouting out advice on how to control speed, how to maneuver, and how to hover. Burke found most of the advice unnecessary. The wings responded to thought. He was good at thought.

It felt wonderful, slipping free of gravity, taking the weight off his exhausted leg and the pressure off his aching armpit. He experienced a sense of something approaching deja-vu—it was as if he had flown before. It felt perfectly natural. Just as he could feel the ghost of his missing leg, he now felt a different sensation: the presence of phantom wings that spread from his shoulders and occupied his new metal limbs. He, like most people, had experienced dreams of flying. What did it mean? Why did he feel so at home in the sky? Was it feedback? Since his thoughts guided the wings, did the wings somehow affect his mind? Or was there some deeper mystery at work here? The dragons believed in a myth that the world had once been ruled by angels who were then overthrown by dragons. His people believed the myth was a metaphor for dragons overthrowing humans. But, what if the myth was true? What if mankind had once possessed wings?