Read Tesser: A Dragon Among Us (A Reemergence Novel) Online
Authors: Chris Philbrook
"Her?" Matty asked, looking at the massive creature's body for signs of breasts or a vagina.
"Yeah, the anatomy department says it's a she. We just call her Amethyst. Beautiful, ain't she?" The man turned his binoculars towards the tent-like center building that housed the magnificent creature.
Matty had to dig deep to find any words. "She is."
Suddenly Alec appeared again and the lab guy melted back into his work. The multi-millionaire stood simply with his hands in his pockets as Matty scanned around the room, her eyes always returning to the body of the creature. To those incredible wings.
"Is it dangerous?" She managed, looking at the teeth and claws that looked like they could tear an elephant apart.
"Incredibly so. We lost many men when we first encountered it. Good people. Scientists, scholars, soldiers. It's a savage creature. A monster really, despite its beauty." Alec sounded sad.
"Can it fly?"
"When we managed to capture it, it had flown. Scientifically, we're told flight with those wings at that mass is impossible, but we knew it was airborne at one point."
"How did you capture it?" Matty asked.
"Sorry, but that’s another secret you don't get today."
Matty sighed.
I want to ask a million and one questions and I know he won't answer them. Maybe he'll answer this one?
"What is it?"
"Miss Matilde Rindahl, I would like to introduce you to Miss Amethyst. The world's first, and only, Dragon."
Dragon…
Chapter Eighteen
Tesser
Tesser had quit his job, much to the dismay of Jerry, the pizzeria's owner. Having the pseudo-celebrity work at his restaurant had brought him a fair amount of extra business, and he would miss it. Tesser apologized to Jerry profusely, and thanked him for the opportunity he'd been given. The two men parted ways graciously.
It took Mr. Doyle almost 48 hours to prepare his spell, and nearly 10 hours of that time was dedicated solely to calming Tesser's patience.
"You said it would be ready by now, Mr. Doyle. Why is it taking so long?" Tesser asked the old man impatiently. Mr. Doyle was sitting in a high backed leather chair, and was grinding a previously alive exotic insect into a mush with a glass pestle over an open granite work surface. The smell the dark pulp gave off was acidic and stung the nose.
"Tesser, I realize you are in a hurry, but you need to understand two very important facts: first and foremost, magic has been neutered of late, and second, the more you bother me,
the slower this goes
."
The dragon's chastising began immediately. "In previous times, wizards less powerful than you…"
Mr. Doyle cut him off, "Had far, far more magic with which to work. I needn't remind you that casting glamours and working spells right now is the literal equivalent of wringing blood from a stone, or swimming in the Sahara. While not as impossible as I frequently feel it is, it takes a bloody good long time to achieve anything worth doing with sorcery. I would thank you kindly to just go away. Leave me be so I can ready this ritual."
Abe had slid in behind Tesser and put a calming hand on the dragon's shoulder. "C'mon bud. He's right. You're pushing him too hard. Especially at his age."
Mr. Doyle glared at Abe.
Tesser turned almost angrily, but after a deep breath, he settled his temper. "I'm sorry. Kaula is incredibly important to me, and far more important to the world. In
her
absence, things have come undone far worse than in
my
absence."
"You're going to have to explain yourself pretty damn soon, Tesser. All these riddles are pissing us off," Abe said as the pair moseyed their way back to the young man's room. Abe had his laptop flipped open and was streaming Mad Men. He was in search of the elusive Christina Hendricks topless moment, but had seen nothing.
Yet.
"After tonight, I think you'll be quite aware of what's going on." Tesser's body stiffened, and he flopped onto Abe's bed with dramatic effect.
He exhaled a powerful rush of frustration and rolled over to watch the television show. Abe sat down in the office chair he'd been sitting in when he first laid eyes on Tesser online.
"You like this show?" Abe asked idly, pointing at the laptop screen trying to make small talk.
"I've never seen it before. Everything seems strange. Out of place. The clothing and hair styles don't match what I see on the streets. Why is that?" Tesser asked.
"This show is set in the 1960s. About fifty years ago. Styles change my friend."
Tesser rolled onto his back. "I don't think I want to watch a show about fifty years ago unless it will help me learn more of your culture today. Can you put some music on? Something I don't have to watch?"
"What kind of music are you into?" Abe leaned forward in the chair and grabbed his mouse. He shut down the television show and started to search for music to entertain his guest.
"I thought the stuff they played at the night club was catchy. I enjoy heavy beats. The vibration in my chest is kick ass."
"You speak funny," Abe said with a laugh.
"Your face is funny," Tesser retorted.
The two shared a laugh.
"How about some Skrillex? He's pretty popular online and has 'dropped the bass' a few times."
"Is he the one who makes music that sounds like change being sucked up into a vacuum cleaner that's about to explode?" Tesser rolled back over, excited.
Abe grinned ear to ear. "Yeah, I mean that's one way to describe dubstep."
"He'll do. Please play it loud," Tesser said as he flopped onto his back once more.
"You're a strange man, my friend," Abe said as he hit play on Scary Monsters and Nice Sprites.
Tesser looked up at the high ceilings of the pricey home and let the electronic cacophony take him away.
Dear Abe, I'm not really a man at all.
*****
At 11:00 pm, Mr. Doyle fetched the boys. Not before reaming them out politely, albeit thoroughly, in his British accent for their loud music, along with their general levels of disrespect, of course.
Tesser and Abe were humbled and a bit impressed by how much shame the man could dole out, all the while refusing to use curse words, insults, or raising his voice.
The man has a strange gift.
"We'll need to link hands on the floor inside the inner circle of ground feldspar. You'll notice the outer circle of salt and mashed insect. That's to keep the demons at bay, should we draw their attention. Take care to not disturb the circles."
"There is no demon that can cross the threshold without being first invited. None that would be interested in interfering with this, at least," Tesser said flatly.
Mr. Doyle started the argument, "My son, there are thousands of years of documentation showing clear evidence of-"
"Creatures from other planes of existence cannot pass through the threshold unless brought across intentionally. It has never been done and never shall be done. If you fear ghosts, spirits, eidolons, poltergeists, gremlins, brownies, seelie or sidhe, that is one thing. Your barrier has value, but not against what you think it does," Tesser said with finality.
"How do you know all that?" Abe asked as Mr. Doyle stared at the golden-eyed man, experiencing his own frustration again.
"Experience. Can we begin? I'm not getting any younger," Tesser said as he took a seat inside the circle.
Though I'm not getting any older, either.
"You need to move over there," Mr. Doyle said, pointing at a different spot inside the circle. Tesser slid over immediately.
I'll have some answers soon. Finally.
The two mages sat down in their own designated areas of the floor, and all three took each other's hands at Mr. Doyle's insistence. The aged wizard took a deep breath, and after visually confirming that the two men were still in fact with him, he began his chant.
I think some of that is the Latin language Abe mentioned in the alley.
Mr. Doyle's chant drifted from one dead language to the next fluidly, as if the words belonged next to one another. Tesser tried to listen to each word, to pluck the meaning of the spell from thin air.
"Loquor—Clara Voce—Nulla Timor—Veritas—Duo Magus—Kaula—," and it went on and on. Disjointed phrases strung together smoothly somehow, with a tenor that alternated between whispers and shouts that, at times, felt so right that Tesser couldn't help but smile at the beauty of it all. Hair stood at end.
This man used to be powerful. His skill is admirable, though he is unable to tap into so much of the energy that is gone. I see now so clearly what he meant when he said wielding magic was like drawing blood from a stone. There is so little of Kaula left in the world, it is a surprise the sun is even shining.
Mr. Doyle's voice was stringing together sounds now. He spoke syllables and consonants that couldn't possibly be words, but sounded to the ear like the turning of a gigantic tumbler inside the lock of reality. His words, his mouth, were recreating what was possible.
"Ga—Ro—Re—Chal—Vo—Tem…"
Then, silence.
Everything went dark.
A dome of blackened energy had formed around the outer circle of salt. It cast an absence of light that seemed infinite and reminded all three men of the vast, endless night sky full of mystery. Rather than drawing out primordial fear, the blackness drew out childlike wonder.
"Speak to Kaula, Tesser. Our minds are drifting in a void of the universal subconscious. We are connected to a billion minds and a billion souls. Maybe more. Speak out firmly to Kaula, and if she can, she shall respond to you," Mr. Doyle said, his voice a breath above a whisper.
"This is amazing," Abe said under his breath.
Tesser closed his eyes and shifted his body. He kept the changes internal, altering his vocal cords, and lungs to enable an entirely different mode of sound. He might be saying words, but the sounds he would be making would carry meaning to only a select few.
My dragon kin.
"Kaula," Tesser said softly, beckoning to his long-lost love.
I can still see your face.
The void returned nothing.
"Kaula, please. I must speak with you," Tesser said.
I want to hear your voice.
Abe turned to Mr. Doyle, "Can you hear that? Something different with his voice? A vibration? A tone? Like he's speaking twice, or something?"
Mr. Doyle could only nod as he motioned for Abe to stop talking.
"Kaula?" The trio let the plea sit in the darkness for several minutes, but nothing returned. No answers, no salutations, no faces, and no satisfaction. Tesser felt a hot tear streak down his cheek.
She mustn't be dead.
"Tesser, the spell will end soon if we do not forge a connection with someone. Are there others you can reach out to? You said there were six others of your organization?" Mr. Doyle suggested.
"Six others of
my kind
."
"Try for one of them. Better to reach a different person, than no one altogether." Mr. Doyle sounded conciliatory.
Tesser wiped the salty tear from his chin and licked his lips.
A Dragon's tear.
Purest salt.
He spoke again, his voice reaching out far across the world, "It is I, Tesser. Speak to me, my brothers and sisters."
The void remained black and endless for a painfully long span of seconds before several specks of light appeared in the depths of the darkness far above. Pinpricks of color grew and swirled about, approaching the men where they sat, covering distances so vast, they were unimaginable. Eventually the motes of color buzzed between the men, dancing about like a child's sparkler on a midsummer night. Each was a different color. All of the streamers escaped away suddenly, except one; a blue like the azure sky.
"Kiarohn," Tesser said with a rapid breath, on the verge of tears of joy.
The mote swirled again, and a soft voice, neither male nor female could be heard by all present, "Tesser. It is good to finally see you again. We have mourned your disappearance, but now, we celebrate your return."
"I have not died," Tesser said defiantly, proudly.
The mote twisted in the air acrobatically. "That much is true, though we were beset with sadness when you left this world. Well, most of us. What say you of your story?" The color called Kiarohn asked.
"I was forced to sleep."
"Forced to sleep? You were never one to conjure excuses, Tesser. How does one make our kind fall asleep for so very long? Sorcery? Poison?" The whirl of blue energy changed its tint inquisitively.
"I do not know. Both perhaps. My last waking memories are of a time very long ago. Wooden castles, men starting fires, and the first kings. Magic abounded with the humans, and mathematics was no more developed than the wheel. I have no memory of how I came to be asleep for so long. You know my word to be true. My soul is open to you." Tesser emphasized the point by pulling his shirt apart, busting the buttons and sending them skidding across the hard wooden floor. One stopped and spun dangerously close to the circle of ground feldspar.