Forged in Fire (27 page)

Justin flushed. He’d worshipped Jean-Paul—admired the man, loved the beast. “If it were not for Jean-Paul, we would have nothing,” he said, his voice steely. “I remind you of the debt you owe him, Tobin. Your blood oath.”

Tobin blanched. “You may be a powerful mage, but you are no drake. Do you truly believe you can transform into one of them? That we”—he pointed to Dane and himself—”can follow the same path, to rise to such heights?”

“Without a doubt,” Justin breathed. “We will fall upon them with flames and claw. I will lead the dragons from the shadows and claim my rightful place as the master of all. The countries of men shall cower in the shadows of our mighty wings.” He paused, looking at them both. “And those loyal to me will have glory beyond reckoning.”

Forty-three

F
rederick
S
awyer paced the length of his suite, the fire rising in his belly. The letter lay in the fireplace, a dusting of ashes. He needed no letter—the words were burned into his brain.

If you ever want to see your able servant alive again, you will follow our orders to the letter. We want no money; this has moved beyond mere greed. This is about liberation for the rightful rulers of the world. We will rise up and shatter the shackles this ancient order has placed on us for far too long.

We will rise, the true rulers of the world, Draconis Imperi.

We request your presence, in all your glory at a time and place to be named. Do not be afraid to show your true magnificence. It is time to rise up and greet the new dawn of civilization.

“Reavers,” Frederick spat. “Power-hungry idiots who should all be hunted down and killed. They will destroy everything the high council has built.”

Did Nidhogg know the renegade dragons were on the move? Beauhall needed this information. He needed to contact her, warn her. How ironic that she would be the one he relied on, after everything.

He paced the room, impotent and fuming.

But no. He would not call just yet. No need to succumb to panic. If Nidhogg did not quite understand what transpired in her own kingdom, he just may have an opportunity to turn this to his advantage.

If he could best this little band of malcontents, the great bitch would be in his debt. She could not very well dismiss him if it were he who preserved her kingdom.

He sat again, pulling pen and paper before him. Allies needed to be contacted. Sanctuaries needed to be insured. And as a last resort, he would call the most sacred of troops to his aid. But the cost there would be dire indeed.

His cell phone rang several times before the voice on the other end answered. “Mount Angel Abbey. How may I help you?”

Yes, a wise ruler ensured his people’s well-being. Even at the cost of his own. “I need to get a message to Father Ignacio.”

“I’m very sorry,” the young novice squeaked into the phone. “We have no Father Ignacio.”

“My pardon,” Frederick said, the full weight of this action bearing heavily upon him. “Perhaps you could inquire with the abbot. Inform him of an inquiry for Father Ignacio. He may know how to reach him.”

He mumbled the formalities for ending the call. His mind had nearly frozen with the implications of what he’d just set into motion. It may cost him more than he was ready to pay. But his people would be preserved, no matter what Nidhogg did within her own borders.

Forty-four

I
drove the truck out to
N
idhogg’s place so
I
could install the frame for the gate. I had it nearly done and wanted to make sure the supports were in place before I brought out the gate itself. It was heavy, heavier than I thought it would be, and the support structure had to be strong enough to handle the weight. Anezka had experience with it, though, and helped me work it out.

The whole time I worked, Jai Li watched me. How she’d escaped Nidhogg’s side, I didn’t know, but it was cute. Whenever I looked directly at her, she would scamper away, but when I got back inside from carrying in a piece or bent to choose another tool, she would be back, watching me with huge eyes.

I tried talking to her, but if I looked at her she’d vanish. So, after a few attempts, I just talked to the air around me. Nothing too specific, just about the way the gate was going together or the color of the sky today. She didn’t flee if I just talked, so I kept up a running monologue.

Once, when I bent to pick up a mallet to tamp down a cotter pin, I noticed several of the other house children were hanging around, listening to me talk. I smiled, pleased. They were so earnest, so enraptured by the things I said, or maybe just my voice.

“As I drove over the bridge, heading home the other night, Mt. Rainier was so clear, it looked like I could reach out and touch it.”

It didn’t matter what I said. They hung on every word.

The frame had to be self-supporting, since I didn’t have architectural guidance to attach to the house’s internal structure. I’d anchor the frame to the beams of the house, but the weight of the gate would be managed by the frame alone.

Once I had the frame installed, I packed up my tools. I was reaching for a hammer when Jai Li crept over and picked it up. I pretended not to notice and gathered the other bits of detritus. It was a small thing, three pounds at most, but allowed me to move things without marring them.

I stood, admiring the installation, hands on hips, head back. It was good. It felt good. I looked down at a tug on my jeans. Jai Li was standing there, holding the hammer out to me, grinning. I took the hammer with one hand and patted her on the head with the other. “Thank you, Jai Li.”

Her eyes got as big as saucers for a moment; then she turned and fled through the crowd of children. The looks on their faces made my stomach ache. They craved that touch, that smile, that familiar acknowledgment.

I walked among them, placing my hand on their heads, like a priest answering his supplicants. As I passed through them, touching each one, I noticed Nidhogg standing with her cane by the library. She had a smile on her face that was at once tender and terrifying.

As the last child scampered away, I approached her, careful to bow properly. “How are you today?” I asked her.

She studied me, turning her head this way and that. So birdlike in her demeanor. “You do them no service,” she said, finally. “I do not need a passel of simpering snotlings. They are raised to serve me. It is not their needs that are paramount here.”

I was horrified. They were children. They needed nurturing. How else were they to be productive, happy? Nidhogg believed otherwise. The predatory look was back on her face, and the moment of joy died in my chest. They had no hope of being happy. Their lot was to serve and serve willingly or pay the consequences.

The reality of the situation came crashing back home to me. While she found me entertaining and seemed to enjoy my company, I was more like a favored pet. I was nothing to her, just as these children were less than nothing.

“Come,” she said, turning to the open door. “I would discuss Frederick Sawyer and his business in my domain.”

I explained the news as I understood it. The news of the necromancer disturbed her, as did the murder of her citizens.

“And you say this necromancer was a protégé of Jean-Paul?”

“Yes, I believe so. And you may be familiar with a group calling itselves the Dragon Liberation Front? I believe they are working together.”

“Reavers,” she spat. “Qindra and I spoke of this. She had made moves to see to this group. The mead they promised would have helped my cause in the council the next time we met.”

“Council?”

She eyed me warily. “You are not so much a trusted servant as a convenient substitute. I will not entrust all of my business to you yet. In time, perhaps, if you have atoned for your sin against my flesh and proven your worth, I will trust you further. For now, be contented I have not destroyed everything you hold dear in vengeance for my loss.”

Bitch. What the hell was going on with her? The last time we met, she was like a grandmother, sharing memories and giving me cookies. Today, it was threats and innuendo.

“If I have offended you,” I said, bowing my head, “I ask your forgiveness.”

She grunted, tapping the ground with her cane. “You are wasting my time. Is there further news?”

“No,” I said, standing. And I walked away.

“I have not dismissed you,” she raged at me. “Come back here.”

I kept walking, thinking how much I wished I had Gram with me at that moment. She did not follow me, nor did she change. When I reached the door, I turned and pulled it closed. I had one last glimpse of her leaning against her cane, her anger a frothing aura surrounding her.

Forty-five

T
he traffic on the 520 bridge was so backed up,
I
turned off on Montlake and drove over to the University Village. I needed something to drink. Instead of alcohol, which was my first choice, I opted for a cherry cola from Johnny Rockets. I walked over to the covered courtyard and sat, shocked at what had gone down. No wonder the whole household was constantly on edge. She was out of her damn mind. And how in the hell had I just walked out of there. Total disrespect on my part. It’s a miracle she didn’t kill me for pissing her off.

I pulled out my cell phone and called my old Tae Kwon Do school. I needed to take an action on the home front, in case something drastic happened. I was also carrying Gram with me from now on. This was too much.

A pleasant young woman answered the phone. I think it was the same one who answered the last time I called.

“Family Martial Arts,” she said, sweetly. “How may I help you?”

I got the mailing address and almost hung up then, but I had to know, had to ask. “I’m wondering if Megan Beauhall is training today?”

“Oh, Megan. Sure. She’s on the floor now, taking the kids through a warm-up. Can I take a message?”

She was an instructor. How great was that? “When does she get done?” I asked. “This is a friend of hers.”

“Not until seven. Would you like to speak with Sa Bum Nim Choi?”

Oh, wow. That was not on the agenda. My mind did a couple of flips: don’t do it, do it—couldn’t have been more than a second or two to go through a million iterations. Finally, I decided to do the thing that scared me the most. “Sure, that would be excellent.”

I waited a minute, imbibing a cherry sugar rush. The adrenaline was beginning to crash, and I thought I might start shaking.

“This is Sa Bum Nim Choi. How may I help you?”

I froze. This was one of the most influential women in my life. I’d walked out of her dojang almost ten years ago and had never as much as set foot in the place since.

“Hello?” she said. “Is anybody there?”

I cleared my throat. “Sa Bum Nim. This is Sarah Beauhall. Can we talk?”

“Sarah?” she asked, more surprised than I’d ever heard her. “Is there a problem?”

I let my head fall into my right hand. “No, ma’am. I just need to talk.”

She covered the phone and spoke to the girl behind the desk. “Have Megan take them through their forms when they are done with warm-ups,” she said. “I need to take this call.”

I heard her walking across the tiled floor by the front door, then heard the bell tinkle as she went outside. There was a place between her school and the BBQ joint next door where you could stand out of the rain and talk on the phone while still seeing the training floor through the windows. Da used to stand there sometimes, when I was testing and the dojang was too crowded.

“Sarah, what is going on?”

Of all the grown-ups I knew, she was the first beyond my parents that I ever trusted. She taught me dignity and respect—let me see myself as a viable human being with valued opinions and a valid purpose.

“It’s Megan,” I said. “I’m worried about her.”

We talked for thirty minutes. Most of the class. Twice the girl at the desk came out and asked for further instructions, but Megan kept the class together.

In the end, she agreed to keep an eye on Megan. She didn’t think there were drugs involved, but there was some bad blood with a few boys at school. And things at home were not ideal. Again, a huge amount of it came down to hero worship of me, she said. There were pictures of me at the school—board-breaking seminars, sparring tournaments. I’d loved the whole art, and Megan was better than I was.

“She’s competing with you,” Sa Bum Nim said. “Even though you have been gone so long, she’s haunted by your ghost.”

“I know, I’m sorry. But I’ve got problems of my own to deal with.” I know it sounded weak, but I did. I needed to figure this shit out before I thought about taking my crazy life back to them.

“You are welcome here at any time, Sarah. I told you that the day you left, and it has not changed. Come visit us. Watch her on the floor. She’s quite the young woman.”

“I miss her, you know.” Okay, now I missed her. I’d put her out of my mind as part of the leaving home thing. I knew that now. Totally unfair to her, above all else.