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FRANZ HOBERT STARED at a sea of expectant faces. The Dragons of Basilisk Valley, every adult over the age of eighteen, gathered in the main cabin. It was crowded, most standing as the air conditioner struggled to keep up with the warm press of anxious bodies. He knew them all by name—every single one. He could claim to have been present for most of their births, all of their childhoods, and beyond.
His eyes landed on the council members, seated with him at the table and whose experience he relied on as much as his own. Llyr Ryan, instructor in pyromancy and his lieutenant in arms, was there. As was Fergus Kelley and Bryn O’Sullivan, perky in her new straw hat, her sassy blond curls tumbling down her back. Finally, Rhiannon Byrne, his dearest friend and eldest besides himself in the valley, sat somberly at his right. There were others on the council as well, but these were the key voices and players in the room, and thus their word and opinion pulled the most weight.
Their faces swam in front of his own for just a moment before he cleared his voice and attempted to adopt an expression of levity.
He’d somehow let them down. He was an old dragon, and he was one of a minority in the room that remembered how they’d come to this valley. The heavy price that had been paid by those long buried.
He cleared his throat. “I’ve called you here to impart some grave news and so we might come together in agreement on what we do going forward. You’ve all heard the stories, grown up with them since you could crawl, most of you. How Basilisk Valley was formed from the survivors of that long ago day in the hills surrounding Salem, Massachusetts.
“So many didn’t make it out, but those brave souls that did made their way to this valley and built this piece of land into a home and sanctuary for other dragons. We are free here and unfettered by the strictures and prejudice of the human world that guards their opinions too close.
“We’ve claimed this valley now for nigh on 300 years. But nothing is forever. The news I bring you today will not be easy for you to take. But I tell you; if you value your lives and those of your families—listen closely.” He took a drink of water, gathering his courage.
“We have existed on the outskirts of Purdy for close to a hundred years now, and though not always perfect, it has been mostly peaceful. I want to reaffirm that the town of Purdy and its inhabitants are not to blame here. They are not out to hunt us down. Most of them still have no idea we exist. A few of them do and guard our secret as closely as we do.
“But there are those spanning our country who do not think the same. They see us, and all Magicals and Other, as an abomination. A threat to their way of life and safety, and something that needs to be eradicated like a disease. We’ve been lucky until now that our town and mountain haven’t fallen under their scrutiny before this. But our luck has run out.”
Every face in the room stared in his direction, letting him talk and say his piece. There would be time when he finished for discussion and arguments if need be. But time was short, too. He could feel it slipping as cold as a knife between the itching of his shoulder blades. Death was coming and it was impatient.
“All of you are familiar with the recent attacks on Magicals and Other in Purdy. The recent taking of Janice Whitmore was proof of that. What you didn’t know was that earlier this morning, the small group of Hunters, the Sawyer bunch we’ll call them, attacked the house where she was recovering to finish what they stared. They would have been successful if not for the intervention of a group of young Magicals who shall remain nameless.” He imagined there might have been a few snickers at his last statement. Almost everyone knew about the exploits of Sadie and her group of friends from the Magical town of Bitterroot. But this was a serious meeting. There was little room for laughter.
“That’s not the worst of it. The Sawyers have called in reinforcements. The Hunters Guild, a hate group that has operated in other cities up and down the coast, has grown. And they come armed with guns and tranquilizers sporting a drug that will reverse or stall our change and incapacitate us. When they come, and they are coming as we speak, they will not be out to take us prisoner. They will be out to kill every man, woman and child on this mountain. Make no mistake, there will be no compassion given you, and you should give them no quarter either. If it comes to it, we are fighting for our very lives.
“However...” He made sure he had their full attention. “I don’t think it is in our best interests to fight them. We have no guns; nor experience in battle. They have both. I think we will lose, and badly. If even one of them were to escape, they’d regroup and make their way to a bigger cell of Hunters and bring in further reinforcements.”
“I think it’s time for our band to cut our losses and move once more. I think we need to leave Basilisk Valley while we still can.”
At his last utterance of words, the room erupted into a pandemonium of argument. Sides were immediate and equal between those whose dragon fed ire rose to the fore. They were ready and willing to fight, despite the overwhelming odds against them. The other half, mainly comprised of married men and women, agreed with Franz. It would be better to flee and live than to die fighting a hopeless battle they couldn’t win.
His council was no less divided as differing opinions made themselves known. “That’s outrageous! We’ve run enough. When does it stop Franz?” Fergus Kelley sputtered, not on board with pulling up roots.
Right behind him was Bryn O’Sullivan, the youngest member at only forty-seven. “I agree. If we run Franz, then its only until next time. At some point we have to take the risk, fight for our freedom and right to exist in the open. I’m tired of hiding.”
Franz sighed. “Maybe that’s true. But not today, and maybe not this time. There are women and children, the elderly... like me.” He attempted the last as a halfhearted jab at levity. No one was biting.
Fergus kept on—his voice hard. “I’m tired of being on the receiving end of humanities whim. Every single man, woman, and child in this valley deserves justice. We have the right to be heard and counted as equals. How many in the town of Purdy would stand with us if they knew what we were? That some of the good citizens of their town that have lived with them peacefully for a hundred years are more than human? They are our neighbors and our friends. We’ve gone to barbecues and dances, attended school side by side, and more with them. When do we give them a chance to defend what’s theirs? Do we give most of them enough credit? I mean, sure there would be a few that would join the Hunters, would be aghast at Magicals and Others living in their midst. But I think that would be in the minority. I believe most of them would support us.”
Beside him, Bryn nodded enthusiastically. There were numerous dragons in the room that looked equally eager to make a stand.
But the older population seemed less sure; wisdom and experience telling them that things were not so simple.
Llyr, who had been silent and taking everything in spoke up. “Maybe Fergus, you are right. Maybe the town of Purdy would stand with us. But the Hunter’s Guild vastly outnumbers even the town itself. They are widespread as Franz says. They’d only call in more and then you wouldn’t only be risking the lives of those of us on the mountain, you’d be putting the innocent citizens of Purdy at risk. Like many here, they are ill equipped to go to war. And I don’t think it’s fair to ask them to fight our battle for us. Not here and not like this.”
Many respected Llyr, and his voice held a good deal of sway. Still, he hadn’t convinced everyone. Rhiannon stood up and the room fell silent. Next to Franz, she was easily the most respected Dragon in the Valley. She addressed her message to Bryn and Fergus, but her voice carried to every corner of the room.
“It was my great niece, Ella Flynn, that called and warned us about what was coming. I think we should heed what she said and tuck in low. If that means we run, then so be it. You need to think, every single one of you, about what you would lose. It’s time to look beyond the existence we enjoy on this ridge at the edge of our Valley. Should we fight? I think the answer is yes. But I don’t think that fight should be today. I think we will need help from our fully human counterparts, those that will side with us. But we’ll gain more supporters that way if we break it to them gently that the Godfathers of their children are actual flesh and scale dragons. The point is, when we fight and make that stand, it has to be a place and time of our own choosing, when we have done everything we can to blend our forces with those of the human population that would stand with us. Like Bryn and Fergus, I imagine that is a much larger percentage than we might think. But we need to be ready, all of us. The humans we know aren’t and neither are we. Running to survive is our only option for now. Change is coming, but we need to make sure we’re driving it, not reacting to it beneath of the crazed mania of the Hunters and their bitter prejudice.” Her voice dwindled to match the dead silence of the room.
It was broken when the door suddenly crashed open behind them and slammed into the wall. Over the thresh hold staggered Marty Flannery. Eyes stark with fear, he fell to his knees, his breath sawing in panicked gasps as he struggled to speak. Livid scratches bisected his arms and shoulders, proof of his mad dash through the tangled woods up the mountainside. Other wounds were worse. Blood oozed from a pair of blackened holes high on his shoulder. Another graze, high on his thigh, dribbled blood onto the hardwood floor, seeping between the planks and disappearing into the wood.
He finally found his words. “They are coming up the ridge and into the valley. They killed Robert, shot him dead. I saw.” His voice broke as the remembered horror moved through him. Robert had been more than just a fellow soldier. They’d been best friends since childhood.”
Franz broke free from the shock that had grabbed hold of him when the young sentry had burst in on their meeting. It seemed the discussion was over and it was all for naught. The option to run had just been pulled off the plate.
“Get up! All of you. Secure your families and grab whatever weapons you can. The war has come to Basilisk Valley and we have no choice but to fight.”
Too many stood staring at him in shock, still unsure. His voice rose and whipped through the room. “Move now!” he screamed, already turning and heading for the door. There was no more time to see who still hesitated. Enough of them rallied and sprang into action that the rest would follow.
But he was afraid it was already too late. They were outmanned and outgunned. Most of their weapons were kitchen knives and hunting bows and the clawed talons and the brute strength that came with the change. Still no match for guns with steel bullets and drugged darts that would render them weak. Despair threatened, but with a savage stamp of his dragon’s temper, he thrust it aside and moved to join.
#
THE FEAR WAS A LIVING thing inside of me. Always before, I’d jumped into the fray along with my closest friends and allies, and we’d whooped butt. I hadn’t paused then to think of the cost. But now I had my nightmare and the fear of it coming true threatening to overwhelm and shut me down. My dragon wanted to come to my rescue. She wanted out.
As we ran up the last hill and turned the curve that led into the main valley I could feel the crawl of scales emerging like a nasty case of chicken pox along my arms and shoulders and spreading towards my back. My eyes burned and I knew the center part of my iris was changing to that vertical reptilian slit, staring out at the world with a predator’s sight. My teeth too were sharp, the razor edge abrading my tongue and lips until I tasted the faint tang of blood. And I wanted more. I wanted Hunter blood. My vengeance and rage pooled thick in my veins, as if my dragon’s wrath could change fate if I allowed it.
We topped the rise, hearing the sounds of dying long before we did. It filled the evening skies. Dragons were there, swooping down and picking victims up and slamming them into the ground, jaws working to ruin their day. Only these victims were Hunters, and their agenda was far worse than ours. I realized that the war wasn’t just in the main valley, but also towards the ridge and the deeper Valley of the Dragons where the newly changed flew on Flight Nights.
I spotted Niel in human form, his broad shoulders bare, what was left of his shirt hanging in tatters as he fought. The silver flash of his shurikens sang through the air, hitting amid shrieks of rage and exploding into lethal balls of flame on contact.
But the Hunters were experienced fighters. Unlike normal humans, they were used to fighting the monsters. They ripped the disks free, leather gloved hands making quick work of the metallic shurikens as they took aim on any of us that were exposed and in the open. It relieved me to see that at least there appeared to be no children in sight. The Hunters wouldn’t have cared if there were I knew, they’d have gunned them down like animals, because to them, that’s what we were.
My teeth gnashed together in a rattle of canines and I notched my bow as a deep roar issued from my throat. If that was what they wanted, I could help them out.
My first bolt hit high, but it had the desired effect as the hunter in question screamed and arched his back, the quarrel’s tip severing something vital. His eyes clouded and he hit dirt. I felt no remorse as I moved on to the next.
The rest of us had spread out, each one of us doing our part while trying to maintain what cover we could behind the trees. The cabins were a flurry of activity too, I could see them in the distance. But we’d never make their scant protection, not across the open field.
Instead, we moved up the main road towards the upper valley. I saw Niel run through the woods, long legs whipping up an impressive speed. The rest of us couldn’t hope to keep pace. Still, I was moving, bolts flying as I ran. On either side of me ran Nick and Sirris, their staffs flashing arcs of blue and green fire as they shot them at their advancing quarry. But like the disks, much of what landed only hit a glancing blow to the leather-clad tunics of our foes who had come more prepared than what we were used to fighting. The thrust of Nick’s magic did more damage, lifting them into the air and smashing them against the trunks of the trees. Not dead; but hurting for sure.
The entire way as I ran, I fought her. My dragon beating her wings against the inside of my human skin. I thrust her back; I wasn’t prepared. The world wasn’t ready for what I was.
Ahead of me as the ridge moved into view I watched Niel suddenly transformed in a matter of strides, bearing down on a hunter who was pulling down on Fern. Screaming in rage, Niel’s talons snatched the shoulders of his victim and lifted before he could fire his gun, the claws sinking bone deep as they bore him up and swung out and over the valley. He rose, wincing as the Hunter, knife in hand, slashed at the wicked claws binding him. So Niel rose higher and dropped him. We heard his scream echo as he fell into the valley before it abruptly cut short. And then in horror, I watched as a dart came out of nowhere, fired from some unseen Hunter’s hand and hit Niel square in the meaty part of his scaled shoulder. The result was almost instantaneous. He dipped twenty feet in a second, the ground far below coming up to meet him way too fast. I screamed, watching him fall from sight, losing his dragon’s form in mid-air. I never saw him hit.
A sudden burning along my shoulder pulled my attention, and I realized I’d been hit as well. A bullet had creased my arm, taking scales and a sliver of flesh with it. I moaned and turned on my assailant, eyes flashing. My dragon wanted to rip out his throat. Instead, my eyes landed on the gun he held and without conscious thought I sent my magic, watching in surprised satisfaction when his gun burst into flames. My magic didn’t let up, fanning the heat higher until it glowed red in his hands. Gloved or no, he was no match for the deep melting heat, releasing the weapon with a scream of pain.
And then I was on him before he could pull anything else, tearing at him in a red haze of fury for his gall, unwilling to look at what I’d left behind when I thrust him aside. The need shivered in my veins, but again, I held it back. I moved on, unable to worry about Niel—that would come later.
My eyes fell on Fern as I approached the lip of the valley ridge. She stood concealed in a cluster of boulders, fingers weaving, mouth moving. Her eyes had darkened from bright blue to near black as she spun her spells through the air with dizzying speed. She called the earth magic she was good at. Vines whipped wildly down from the trees, tangling and ensnaring Hunters two and three at a time as she used the snippets of vines and roots at their feet to twist in their ankles and trip them up. Once on the ground the earth came alive. In horror I watched it open, the dirt boiling like a mad pot of soup to pull them in and under. I had to look away as her victim’s mouths opened, a swarm of black loam and wriggling beetles rushing in as they disappeared from sight. That was a new one. I was sure I’d never be able to get rid of the memory.
Our eyes met. Hers were grim. Out of bolts, I moved out along the edge of the valley, gliding from boulder to tree as I progressed, picking out a hunter bearing down on Thomas and pulling my disks free. They were cool in my hands, but unleashed they were already heating, the thin metal a red glow by the time they plowed into the unprotected skin beneath the hunter’s neck. Thomas whirled in alarm as the hunter screamed in shocked pain, the disk flaming as it buried deep, blood welling and flesh cauterizing instantly under the heat. He fell, clutching his throat and gasping. If I hadn’t killed him, it wasn’t for lack of trying.
My eyes met Thomas’ and a cruel smile graced my lips as I moved on. He moved beside me, and I realized I wasn’t the only one fighting my inner beast and holding back. His bolos sprung free, spinning in an expert arc above his head as he moved, yellow eyes moving back and forth, searching. He was having a tough time holding onto them, though. The clawed hands, fingers splayed and tipped with lethally sharp nails, were more dog than human. With a howl, he reached out and raked a hunter from chin to sternum, drawing four perfect furrows before the hunter could do more than pull his knife for close combat. With a strangled yell, he was down and out. We moved on.
I blinked, using my power and holding back my dragon was taking its toll as exhaustion tried to slow me down.
Despite the damage we were doing, and it was plenty, all around us Magicals continued to fall. It might not have been my nightmare exactly, but it was a lot closer than I liked. The guns were deadly. We hadn’t battled against them before. But it was the darts that were doing the most damage, incapacitating any and all Magicals they struck and making them easy targets for the Hunters to finish.
And they just seemed to keep coming. By then we were on our way back down to the main valley, circumventing the high bowl shaped divot formed millennia ago by the glaciers that had come through, bumping over the land and causing the deep impressions as they passed. As we entered the lower valley, I realized an awful truth. There were more of us concentrated here. More Hunters too. Despite our powers and abilities, the experienced Hunters had herded us in, we were cattle in a pen, and they were getting ready for the slaughter. Together we broke the cover of the trees and made a run for the cabins. Behind us, the Hunters took their time, in no apparent hurry. We were target practice and they took their time and aimed.
As we neared the cabins, I glanced beside me at the exact moment one dart hit home and buried itself deep in Thomas’ arm beside me. In slow motion, I watched him start to fall, a scream on my lips as I swerved to intercept him. I wasn’t sure what I thought I could accomplish. I had little strength left to lift anything. But for me, at least, that was a cardinal rule. You didn’t leave a fallen soldier behind. A blur passed me as I turned, coming from the cabin. Todd was there. I hadn’t seen him since he flew off on Niel’s back several hours before.
Todd never paused; lips pulled in a thin line of determination. He lifted Thomas’ limp form over his shoulder and whirled back towards the relative safety of the cabins. I kept pace beside; the whir of bullets exploding around me. I felt the hiss as they flew by my head and shoulders, just missing my fleeing form. I didn’t have time to look and see if the rest of us had been as fortunate. We reached the cabins. But I didn’t delude myself, we were just waiting for death to arrive. The thing about using our powers was that it was temporary. It drained us until we were weak and useless against our attackers. Easy pickings. The Guild had studied our kind, had they just been waiting us out? At the corner of the main hall, we turned to make a stand. This wasn’t the way my dream had ended. We weren’t standing helpless on the edge of the valley cliff. Maybe it was worse.
I looked around at the survivors gathered beside me. Fern, Thomas, Sirris and Todd stood with me. Jayne too was there. I’d lost track of her in the fight, and now I wondered how she’d made it this far, weaponless and without any magic of her own. But I was sure Jayne was more than just human.
From the doorway of a cabin two down from us my eyes met Franz Hobert’s, his bleak with knowledge. I wanted to tell him that none of this was his fault. I knew he wouldn’t believe me.
Looking at those of us assembled there, I realized we were all done in. The mad dash up the mountain to get here in the first place hadn’t helped. But using our magic, as we had, had finished the job. It was a miracle we were all still standing.
Inside me, my dragon whimpered and gave a frustrated shiver. I’d held her back, Franz’s words coming back to me. I didn’t know enough yet. It would most likely kill me. Besides, what could she do that my magical abilities and weapons could not? Now I wondered if any of it mattered.
I realized they’d ceased fire, held up by some unseen hand as they circled. With a growl of awareness, only his eyes showcasing his ancient heritage, Franz Hobert pushed away from the cover of the cabin and strode into the middle of the yard.
I straightened up. I would not face death hiding, waiting to be picked off like fish in a barrel. Let the cowards know they had won, but they’d never conquer the fiery beast within me. With a growl and a show of fang, I stepped away from the building to join.