Genesis was insisting that It's Just a Job on one of the local radio stations as I pulled the rental car to the side of the service road, well-short of where my map said the clearing would be. I shut off the engine and sat there in the dark for a few minutes, trying to figure out just why the hell I wasn't 5000 miles in the exact opposite direction by now.
Easy. Because Stefan would have been expecting such a move.
Just like I would have.
I pulled the automatic from beneath my coat and stared at it, then with a sigh chucked it into the glove compartment, followed a few moments later by the shoulder rig. Regardless of what I encountered in that field; it would be of little use to me.
Time to quit stalling. The disconnected dome lights kept the car in darkness as I climbed out, easing the door shut. Clad in a dark jacket, slacks, black sneakers and a crew cap I padded forward, finding the field a few minutes later.
I squatted in the brush on the perimeter and waited about fifteen minutes, my eyes slowly scanning and re-scanning the area. Nothing; just darkness and the cold wind blowing through the winter-seared weeds that filled the little field. I rose and headed off to the left, slowly tracing the edge of the clearing. Using the sound of the wind to mask my movements I stalked the underbrush, searching, eventually coming all the way around to my starting point. Still nothing.
I crouched again, frowning to myself. Was I being stood up? Or perhaps set up? He could be here, watching me even now. But if he was, he'd brought precious little backup, otherwise I would have spotted it by now. I smiled grimly as I thought of the preparations I'd made earlier that evening. If this was a setup, my opponent was going to have some very nasty surprises in store for him. . . .
Enough. Get it over with. I closed my eyes and concentrated.
There was a feeling of pressure, then release as if something had abruptly given way. The dull, nauseating ache of bones bending into new shapes once again assaulted my stomach while my muscles seemed to squirm and writhe beneath my skin as they rearranged themselves.
My taloned hands hit the ground before me with a thump. I opened golden eyes to look back at my now-sinuous form, and spied something resembling a tiny spider's web woven of blue-black light hovering in the air a few inches above my right double-shoulder. It was already fading back into invisibility, having completed its job of taking my human clothes and pushing them off into a curious other-place for storage.
A familiar feeling of pleasure began to well up from deep inside. I let it come, and watched the ground seem to slowly recede, my forepaws sinking into the soft earth as my weight doubled and redoubled.
My metallic mane made a sound like wind chimes as I settled huge wings more comfortably across my back. Steely scales slid smoothly over my muscles as I stretched my 150-foot length.
I looked about myself in the suddenly much-brighter night, peering critically at my little 'surprises.' They held station nearby; eye-baffling patterns of blue-black and ultraviolet much like my little clothes-hamper pattern, but far larger and more complex. Lines as thick as steel cable glowed dully, barely visible to even my sight, but ready to flare to brilliance with but a few finishing strokes.
I finally noticed what my tail was doing, and with an effort ceased its agitated lashing. Damn; loaded for bear and still scared stiff. Wishing mightily for a platoon of heavy infantry to watch my back, I took another deep breath and lumbered out into the clearing.
I managed to cover perhaps a hundred meters before there was the sound of an incautiously drawn breath to my left.
I whirled as the air seemed to writhe and peel back nearby, my sight dazzled by the greenish flare of eldritch energy that stood revealed. I snarled my defiance, my fangs baring themselves as the burning in the back of my throat surged and my right hand plunged itself into one of my patterns and began the motions that would bring it to deadly life--
"My lord! No!"
I paused long enough to blink the flare from my eyes, and stared at what was before me. It was a dragon; smaller, much more compact than my own rangy self. Dark green scales with a familiar mottling of black covered his form, effectively blending it with the night. A low dorsal ridge ran the length of his spine, and he had no mane. Around the base of his neck he wore a torque made of a bright nimbus of energy, its color matching his eyes.
As I watched, he whom I assumed was Stefan dropped into a curious stance; forelegs splayed, wings laid flat on the ground, his head turned up and away, exposing his throat. The singularly helpless-looking posture stirred something in the back of my draconic brain, and I realized I was seeing a gesture of submission. "My lord, forgive me. I did not intend to startle you, but was merely being cautious. Please, my lord."
There was something strangely calming about the way he held himself. The burning in my throat subsided as I closed my jaws and rose from my crouch. Unsure of what to do next I simply stood and looked at him.
The black and green dragon relaxed. Slowly he straightened from that odd position, staring up at me with wide, shining eyes and muttering to himself. "Never. Never would I have dared to even dream. . . . " He abruptly shook his head. "I am sorry, my lord; I forget myself, and there is much to do. "
He reached up into the green band of energy wrapped about his throat and withdrew a glowing bit of its substance. He then placed the bit upon the ground between us and carefully backed away. "My lord, if you would take that up it will enable you to speak as the humans do."
Slowly, wary of a trap, I picked up the fragment of glowing energy, then carefully studied its structure with a witch-trained eye. Yes, the bit would do the same job as did a tiny pattern etched into one of my scales, but would require ten thousand times more power to do so. In fact, this bit had virtually no pattern at all; relying upon sheer brute force to overcome inefficient design. Mary would have had a conniption fit at the flagrant waste of energy. And why was I being given another 'translator' when I already had my own? Was he somehow unaware of my own tools? If so, I wasn't about to enlighten him.
Convinced of its harmlessness I pressed the bit of energy to my throat, where it quickly spread out into a glowing torque not unlike my host's. A pause, then I spoke. "So. I am here, as you wished. And what is it that you wish of me next?"
Stefan's tail flicked about in agitation. "My lord, it was not my wish, but the wish of those whom I defer to. And now, with your permission, I am to bring you to them."
I stared at the smaller dragon for a long moment, wondering what would happen if I refused. At last I nodded. "Very well." I waited for the creature to begin to relax, then I dropped the other shoe. Shoving my snout close suddenly and when he backed up, I said "But first I will have your Name."
He froze, his eyes going wide as his breath drew in with a long, shocked hiss. I gazed down at him stonily as twice he began to speak, then stopped. Finally, he tilted his head pleadingly. "My lord, I am known among the humans as Stefan."
I stared at him coldly as I mulled it over. It wasn't his true Name, of course, but Stefan was asking me to be content with it for now. I wasn't surprised; armed with the true Name of a magical creature such as he, a skilled person could use it to quite literally pull him inside-out. The disturbing thing, however, was the dreadful feeling that if I insisted he actually would give it to me. Why? Last night he was the professional agent, cold and hard. Now he was acting as if I were the Second Coming. And what was with all this 'my lord' stuff?
Insufficient data. Fake it for now. I let him fidget for a few moments more, then nodded reluctantly. "Very well, Stefan it is. Shall we go?"
He bowed again, his relief an almost palpable wave. "Of course, my lord. It's not all that far, and the winds are smooth tonight. If I may lead?"
I nodded silently. Immediately Stefan sprang aloft with myself not far behind, my hind legs thrusting hard against the earth as my massive pectorals contracted, the anonymous little field sinking silently away.