“You’re sure you can’t just leave it here until we root out the nest of cultists?” Chase asked as we walked into McKinnett’s. The morning sun shone through the windows, sending long shadows across the main room of the pub.
“I just need them, is all.” I chewed at my lip. “If… if I can’t be here, I need them with me.” I fidgeted with the strap to my backpack.
Chase nodded and gave my arm a gentle squeeze. “Of course. I should have known. I’m sorry.”
We walked into my bedroom. I felt a warm flush as I remembered the last time the two of us were alone in here. My body tingled at the thought.
No time for that. In, out, no messing around. I walked over to the dresser and opened up my backpack. A dull ache filled my stomach.
“I didn’t think I’d have to do this again,” I said softly as I picked up a tiny kid’s meal toy and placed it into my backpack.
Chase came up behind me and rested his hands on my shoulders. “They’re still your family, even if you’re staying with us.” He squeezed gently, then took in the top of my dresser. “What are these?”
I looked down, embarrassed. “They’re just…things. I took something from each of the homes I stayed in, to remember.” I picked up a tarnished silver-plated crucifix. I’d pocketed it when they hauled away the bitch who beat me. “I don’t know why I keep this one. It’s not something I want to remember. But a part of me…” I blew a strand of hair out of my face, flustered. “It’s a part of me. It’s part of my history. I just can’t throw it away.”
“It’s your hoard.” Chase cupped my shoulders with his hands and drew me closer to him. His muscular chest pressed into my back. “All dragons have collections of some kind. Little treasures, or big ones. Yours is one of the most compact ones I’ve seen, but that makes sense. You could only keep what you could carry.”
“What’s yours?” I asked, dropping a teaspoon with a scalloped edge into my bag.
He chuckled, his chest vibrating against me. “Weapons. I collect martial arts weapons. Mostly the smaller ones, throwing knives and stars and that sort of thing, but I have a few larger pieces as well.” His voice became more animated. “I have a beautiful naginata from Japan. Damascus steel, hand-forged and folded thousands of times. I’ll have to show it to you when we get back to the mansion.”
“You travel with it?” I grinned as I slowly cleared off the dresser.
He shrugged. “We all keep parts of our hoards with us when we travel. Hell, Cass brought most of his with him. All those books? That was a nightmare to manage on the road, let me tell you.”
I giggled. “I can imagine. How about the others?”
He laughed. “You’ll have to ask them. Galen’s a little cagey about his, and I actually don’t know what Aric’s is. He keeps his own space from us.”
I picked up the last piece of my hoard, a palm-sized jewelry box. It was carved wood, from a Renaissance festival that Mary and Terese took me to, to celebrate filing the adoption paperwork. I opened it and peered in. There was a tiny silver locket inside. After the adoption fell through, it had been too painful to wear it. Chase rested his cheek against mine, peering over my shoulder. I tipped the locket into the palm of my hand and set down the jewelry box so I could show him the pictures. They beamed at me from the tiny photographs, Mary with her bright blue eyes and curly blonde hair and Terese with her deep brown eyes and mischievous smile.
“Did you try to stay in touch with them?” Chase asked quietly.
I shook my head, fighting back the tears. “It hurt too much. I wrote them letters, then crumpled them up and threw them away. I didn’t have the words. Just a lot of anger and a lot of sorrow.”
His arms wrapped around me, pulling me tight against his chest. He buried his face in my hair, kissing the back of my head. I fought for composure, then let myself go slack in his arms and cried for the childhood I could have had.
We finished packing up. I grabbed a few more t-shirts, another pair of jeans, and a handful of underwear. I also grabbed my copy of The Lion King. It seemed appropriate. If I was going to take my mother’s spot on the throne after a long absence from the people I was meant to rule, I should study up.
As we walked out through the pub, I had a thought. I darted over to the bar and picked up a coaster.
“For the hoard,” I told Chase as I slipped it into my backpack. “This was my home, too.”
“So what is a naginata, anyway?” I asked as I slid into the front passenger seat of the SUV.
Chase grinned like a little kid talking about his favorite cartoon. “A naginata is a long pole with a long, curved blade at the end.” He inserted the key into the ignition and turned it. “The blade styles vary a bit, but…”
He was cut off by a thick plume of choking smoke pouring out of the steering column. We both coughed, frantically clawing for the door handles only to find that they had been removed. Chase turned and began to kick at the window, but the impact was feeble. My eyes were closing against the smoke, and the lids were heavy. So heavy.
The world went black. Then it went mad.
I was deafened by the clash of swords on a medieval battlefield. Dragons soared overhead, dousing their enemies in fire and ice, bringing bolts of lightning down on metal armor and raising spikes of stone from the earth to impale screaming horses.
I choked on thick black smoke from heaps of burning bodies, dragon and human alike, victims of a plague. I could feel something twisting in me, something dark and painful.
I gagged at the reek of coal fires. More smoke. The writhing in my chest was unbearable. Humans tore deep, gaping swaths of land open to get to the precious coal, to create more smoke.
Dragons tangled with the Chosen, in back alleys behind factories, by brackish waters shimmering with slicks of oil. The more they killed, the more seemed to rise from the polluted streams and the sewers of the cities.
A thick, scaled, limbless body wrapped itself around me, squeezing mercilessly. I tried to cry out but there was no air in my lungs to make a sound. My bones ground together. The blackness closed in around my vision.
No.
I reached my claws out and grabbed, and pulled, and tore. With a roar, I broke free.
And found myself in a cage.
I blinked hard. My mouth tasted sticky and foul. I was lying on my side in a small, steel cage, with a grating beneath me and a low ceiling that kept me to, at best, a seated position. I could hear movement around me. I decided to play dead for the moment, just to get my bearings. I could smell saltwater, the briny foulness of the harbor, but it was mingled with earthier smells, and the smell of oil and fire. My eyes adjusted to the low light, and I realized I was in some sort of immense underground chamber. Torches lined the walls in sconces. For a moment, I wondered if this was the part where Conan the Barbarian charged in with a sword to come and rescue me. No such luck.
In the center of the room, two of the Chosen slithered in a large circle, dragging long sticks tipped in chalk across the stone floor. The grating sound of the chalk mingled with the low hiss of some sort of chant. I squinted to see better. They were tracing some sort of runes in a large circle. A ritual circle.
I swallowed hard. This was it. This was where I was going to lose my essence.
Another of the Chosen entered the room. This one was larger than the others, with midnight black scales along his body and a massive hood like a cobra. Red and silver scales formed a pattern on the hood, like giant malevolent eyes. The other Chosen in the room flattened themselves against the ground at his approach. He slithered over to the circle and gave a nod of approval. The High Priest, I recalled from the conversation at the harbor. Then, he slithered over to me.
I closed my eyes again, trying to pretend to be unconscious. I could hear him laugh, a harsh, rasping sound.
“Thiss? Thiss is the Shadow Queen?” His voice sounded like stones grinding against each other. “A little girl, pretending to be asleep so the big bad snake won’t hurt her.”
I opened my eyes and glared at him.
He laughed again. “Oh, no worries, my tiny queen. We will hurt you. Oh yes, we will.”
“Fuck you.” Painfully, I pulled myself into a seated position. I felt around inside my chest for my dragon. I was scared enough, angry enough that there should have been some sign of her, but there was nothing there.
“Trying to shift into something more frightening?” I wanted to grab him by the fangs and slam his face into the ground. “Our poison should be more than enough to stifle the meager power of a virgin dragon.”
Shows what you know. I searched harder. There she was, tiny and fast asleep, but she was there.
I heard a commotion from the dark corridor leading into the room. A commotion, and a horrifyingly familiar voice.
“Let go of me you scaly assholes! I’ll rip your teeth out!”
No. Not her.
I looked over to the two Chosen who had just entered. Missi hung suspended between the two of them, kicking and screaming.