The next couple of days passed in a drunken stupor as I tried without success to drown the memories that had returned full force since the affair at the radar site. Thankfully, the Machine was going at full speed by now, and easily took up the slack until I finally began to shake myself out of it. I stayed human until I couldn't stand it anymore, keeping my dragon-self hidden. Waiting for the witch woman to find me and attempt to enslave me once again. It was intolerable.
So I found her first.
I hunched forward over the wheel of the microvan and pressed down harder on the accelerator. The tiny motor whined in protest as the windshield centered on a certain worn gray dress and thick cane. She was up ahead of me, toiling her way along the deserted roadside beneath the baking sun, her back to the traffic.
The pedal sank a little closer to the floor. An unfortunate accident. So sorry. These sorts of things happen, especially when one is not used to driving on the left side of the road. You really should put some sidewalks in around here. . . .
With an oath I jerked the wheel aside and slammed down on the brakes. The tiny van shuddered and fishtailed as its wheels locked and I fought for control, finally slowing to a halt next to the witch. She flinched aside as gravel and grit sprayed her yet again, then spun to glare at the driver. Our eyes met for several long seconds.
She blanched.
I felt the corners of my mouth turning up into a humorless smile. Then I turned and kicked open the passenger-side door. "Get in."
She hesitated, and my smile grew wider. Her eyes studied that carnivore's grin, then she slowly walked to the door and climbed in. Instantly I floored the accelerator, spinning the drive wheels and slamming her back into the seat. The little blue van careened down the road, heading for the radar site.
Twenty minutes later we bounced and jounced our way up the nearly washed-out road leading into the site, where I finally crunched to a stop. I turned to the silent form riding next to me. "Get out."
She did so and I followed suit, pocketing the van's keys. She stood there, watching me as I walked away from her and trudged out into the dusty clearing, looking at the bits and pieces of the pentagram still remaining, scratched into the dirt. It was much clearer now, now that the grooves were no longer filled with that actinic radiance, and I slowly paced out its lines and curves.
Movement by my right foot distracted me. It was one of my little sand lizards, with his forefeet propped up on the edge of my shoe and peering up at me. I smiled and reached down, and he hopped up onto the back of my hand. I lifted him up to my level and looked into his bright little eyes. "Spot. How did you know me?" I chuckled and began to run a finger down his back. His eyes closed and he quivered ecstatically. "Guess I just can't fool some people, can I?"
The witch watched all of this silently, her hands twisting on the length of her cane. Slowly, the tip drifted toward the ground.
"Don't even think about it."
The tip paused, then lifted.
I continued to stroke my tiny friend as I finished pacing my way around the pentagram, then I walked back to the witch. Spot took one look at her and vanished up my shirt sleeve. Her eyes still burned as they met mine, and our gazes locked again for several long moments.
At last she spoke. "Why am I here?"
"To answer some questions," I replied quietly. "Why did you try to snare me?"
Her chin came up, and the fire in her eyes burned brighter. "My reasons are my own. They are none of your affair."
"Then you will die here, and your reasons will die with you."
She stiffened at that, and I watched the muscles bunch beneath the dark skin as she ground her teeth. "I had need of power."
"Power?" I snorted. "You actually held a dragon against his will, and you have need of power?"
"Power in this world, dragon!" she gritted out. "Power in this world! Power over men!"
I felt my eyes narrow as I studied her, remembering how the lines had winked out when I shifted to human form. Pieces of the puzzle snapped into place.
"Yes. . . .Your power cannot affect the physical world directly, can it? You must summon and control a being who can."
She stared at me. Slowly, she nodded. "Yes."
"So you set a snare for what you thought was a demon, and caught a dragon instead."
"Yes."
"You have yet to tell me why you needed this power."
"To make war."
I blinked. "What?"
"To make war!" she snapped, the words suddenly coming in a torrent. "To protect my land! Too much we have suffered! The Papa Doc! The Baby Doc! The Tonton Macoutes! Attaches! And now the Americans! I will have no more! NO MORE!!"
I stared at the witch in astonishment. I'll be damned--a Haitian nationalist. Almost a contradiction in terms, if you knew anything about the wretched place. . . ."So you sought to enslave me with that--that thing."
Her eyes, flaring so brightly only a moment ago, guttered and dimmed. She looked away. "Yes."
--And then would have flung me, alone, against the entire American Task Force. God, what an optimist. And what could I have done against such firepower? Provided them with perhaps a few minutes sport before they rolled right over my shattered corpse? "For that alone I should kill you slowly, old woman."
"Then kill me and be done with it," she replied, her voice going flat as she turned her back on me. "The day is hot, and I am tired. Be done with it."
I studied the back of her worn gray dress for several long minutes. Spot stuck his head out of my shirt sleeve and peered at her as well. I gently stroked him under the jaw as I thought.
"No."
Her back tensed.
"Old woman, I will bargain with you. Will you bargain with me?"
Slowly, so very slowly she turned, her eyes wide with astonishment. "Bargain?"
"You have something that I want."
For a second I thought that she was going to collapse, but she caught herself, leaning heavily upon her cane. She stared at me. "Speak."
"You have power in my world of dragons," I explained. "A small power, weak, fragile as a spider's web. Yet so cunningly wrought that it actually held me for a while. I want to learn that cunning."
"But . . . but you have power!"
I gave her a tight, bitter smile. "Oh, yes, I have power. Enormous power. Such power, in fact, that a doddering old woman with one foot in the grave can trap me with ease. I want that to change."
She stared at the ground, thinking. ". . . .And what will I receive in return?"
"You wished to find a way to wage war on any who would hurt those you care for." She winced slightly--at some memory, perhaps? "That is something that I can teach you."
It wasn't the easiest of deals; anger and suspicion had to be overcome on both sides, but finally we had a bargain.