Things around the ranch house seemed to get a little quieter after my little trip. Conversations became less animated, people grew more subdued as they went about their work. I knew everyone was concerned about me, but I couldn't bring myself to talk about it. There was an attempt by both Stefan and Dithra to get me to tell them what I had found there, beneath the lake; I gave them the broadest outlines, but nothing more, telling them that it was a thing of the Lung when they pressed. Neither of them were very happy with my curt answer, but sensing my mood they did not pursue it. Through all this, Pasqual said nothing, perhaps realizing I would tell her, someday, when I could bear it.
Secrets, secrets, too damned many secrets. . . .
Another week passed, then Grease came limping back to us, his normal Tennessee good-ole-boy expression going flat and cold when he saw Pasqual. He glanced at me then with a question in his eyes, but I shook my head. He turned back to the dragoness, and they studied each other for a long, tense minute. Then Grease suddenly gave Pasqual a cool, almost friendly smile. "Next time," he said with a quiet intensity "you won't catch me by surprise." That smile turned into a brief grin, then he turned his back on the astonished dragoness and walked away.
Meanwhile, Dithra had continued her diplomatic maneuverings. The Naatahn clan eventually fell into line, followed by two other major clans whose names I didn't bother to learn. Finally the day came when Dithra turned to me as we sat in her home drinking coffee, gave me a smile that more than hinted at the dragon that lay hidden behind the human facade, and said "It is time."
I set my coffee cup down, looked at her, and returned that predator's smile.
-Oh, the more it changes
-The more it stays the same.
-And the Hand just rearranges
-The players in The Game. . . .
Irritated, I shrugged off my human half's lyrical observation, but was not quite as successful in shaking off the definite feeling of deja-vu I felt as I watched Dithra's private jet slowly taxi up to the general aviation terminal, the high-pitched whine of its engines quickly fading into a dying sigh as the pilot closed the throttles.
I watched as the fuel truck pulled up next to the Citation, then turned my head to look at Dithra sitting across from me in the little terminal's waiting room, and decided to try one last time. "My Lady, is this really necessary?"
Dithra turned away from the window to give me a look comprised of equal parts exasperation and amusement. "Dear Hasai, we have had this conversation before. This is a formal gathering, and we must treat it as such. To arrive surrounded by bodyguards, or to come skulking in like some night scavenger, that would signal weakness, and possibly tempt some to rashness. No--" she gestured to the gleaming jet "--we must arrive openly, and without any hint of fear."
"Aircraft have been known to crash, my Lady, and the Council must be desperate by now."
Dithra gave me a droll look. "Hasai, do you truly worry about falling from the sky?"
I stared at her for a long moment, then sighed, my eyes dropping. "No, my Lady," what I feared was having the warhead of a surface-to-air missile rammed up my ass. Unfortunately, I had failed miserably in getting the ancient dragoness to understand this. I gestured resignation, then swung my arm to indicate the jet. "Shall we go?"
"Indeed." We both rose to our feet, and I turned to the shadowy form that had been standing behind my seat, his back to us as he scanned the rest of the lobby. "Luce." The dark soldier turned to me; I gripped his shoulder. "You and Stefan hold things together until we get back."
Lucifer nodded soberly. "Wish I was coming with you," he offered after a short pause.
"You're not the only one," I chuckled. "God, I wish all of you were coming." I paused, sobering, gave his shoulder a squeeze. "Wish us luck."
"Come back alive, Sarge," he replied, a trace of his Buddha smile returning, but his eyes still serious.
"I intend to, Luce. See you in a day or two." I kept my hand on his shoulder for a moment more, then turned to rejoin Dithra, who had politely paused just short of the exit to the flight line. Stefan was there, waiting to open the door for her.
As we passed through the door and out into the brilliant winter sunlight, Stefan touched my arm, drawing me aside for a moment as Dithra went on ahead. "You have tried to reason with her?" he murmured quietly.
"Yeah," I shook my head in frustration, then smiled wryly as a thought occurred to me. "Now I know how you felt when you were trying to talk me out of some harebrained stunt." I paused, gave Dithra's agent a serious look. "For what it's worth, Stefan, I'm sorry to have been such a pain. And, thank you."
Stefan blinked at me for a moment, then a small smile crept across his usually impassive face. "It is worth something, my Lord; it most certainly is worth something."
I nodded silently, then followed Dithra up the little staircase and into the aircraft. Stefan lifted the passenger hatch behind me, our eyes meeting one more time before he pushed it closed and I dogged it shut. Moving forward, I settled into one of the executive jet's plush leather seats across the aisle from Dithra, who smiled to me assuringly as I heard the engines immediately begin to spool up.
A few minutes later we began to roll, the little jet trundling its way away from the terminal and toward the runway. From my window, I caught a glimpse of Stefan and Lucifer. The sight of them, dragon and human, both of them stone killers, standing shoulder to shoulder as they watched us go seemed to me to be an omen for the future, and, almost in spite of myself, I began to feel better.
You're going to lose, Ahnkar.
The jet swung around, aligning itself on its designated runway as I contemplated what was to come. All the maneuvering was done with. The Council had run out of time, and both Ksstha and Ahnkar had run out of pawns. Dithra insisted otherwise, but I knew that either one or both of the renegade Elders would now try something desperate . . . or at least I truly hoped they would. . . .
I have you now.
The pilot pushed the throttles forward, and the whine of the engines grew to a roar. Acceleration pressed me back into my seat, and I felt my lips curling up into a cold, cruel smile as the human half of my soul whispered to me a single word.
Endgame. . . .
The rain was turning colder.
I watched it spatter against the glass, noted the small grains of ice scattered here and there within the droplets as they ran down the glass. The rain would become mixed with snow soon, then just snow. I gazed at the little crystals as they reluctantly melted against the warmer body of the car as it rolled through the sere countryside, my thoughts as bleak as the murky gray sky that roiled above us.
The flight had been a grueling one. I spent its entire duration tightly gripping the armrests of my seat, my mood becoming increasingly grim as my mind endlessly inventoried all the weapon systems that could easily vaporize both the little private jet and its contents at any moment. But Dithra had insisted on traveling that way, saying we needed to keep up appearances and other such political insanities. After a small eternity, and more than a little astonishment on my part, we touched-down at a little municipal airport in the American southeast, the airstrip deserted save for the massive black Mercedes and its driver silently awaiting us in the rain.
At the thought, my eyes left their contemplation of the weather to study the back of the driver's neck. Human? Or a young dragon much like Stefan, acting as an agent for his elders? Unknown, and unimportant. The driver hunched his shoulders slightly, as if he could feel my cold regard, and I felt the corner of my mouth twitch upward for a moment. I then looked to my left, at the one who shared the back seat with me. Dithra was gazing out the window on her side, her face pensive, and I took the moment to study her profile and perhaps wonder what she had been like in younger years. Finally she sensed my gaze, turned, and gave me a warm smile of reassurance.
I did not know this place, the one we were approaching along this wet, winding road. All I knew and cared about was that this, at long last, was the day that we would settle this idiotic business once and for all.
One way, or another.
Eventually we turned off onto a private drive. The ribbon of black asphalt curved its way through a winter-naked forest, the trees' black branches dripping in the chill winter rain that still spattered against the car's windows. Silently I scanned the places between the dark boles, searching for movement, perhaps the deadly snout of some weapon, but to my further surprise found nothing. Eventually the trees came to an end, stopping abruptly at the edge of a large, grassy field. In the middle of that field there squatted a huge, boxlike structure that must have been at least two hundred meters on a side and maybe twenty meters to the flat roof. Factory or warehouse, the slab-sided building had a large, weed-infested parking lot flanking it, next to a business sign whose center panel had long-since surrendered to the elements, leaving an anonymous frame to quietly rust in the rain.
There were more than a few cars already sitting in the lot; dark, massive, expensive machines, each with its own driver either sitting at the wheel or standing next to their vehicle. I felt those drivers' eyes upon us as our own transportation rolled to a stop before the building's entrance and our driver got out to open Dithra's door for her. While he was busy with that I opened my own and stepped out into the rain, pausing to scan the faces of those silent chauffeurs. A few would meet my eyes; many dropped their gaze uncomfortably to the pavement at their feet. The remainder stared coldly past me, as if I didn't exist. I chuckled humorlessly at a private, equally humorless thought from my human side, then turned to offer my arm to Dithra as we prepared to make our way up the broad concrete steps.
The little blue awning that began at the top of the steps had seen better days, but at least it held off the rain. The entrance itself consisted of a pair of glass office doors, flanked by a pair of large, conservatively-clad, somber-looking gentlemen with eyes as cold as the weather. Dithra's chin lifted slightly as she met their gaze with one equally as chill, one eyebrow arching upward in silent inquiry. A moment passed, then both guardians' gazes dropped, and thick hands reached over to pull the doors open for us.
What lay just inside the doors looked to be the gutted remains of a corporate lobby; dirt and various bits of anonymous trash littered the expensive marble-tiled floor, and lighter-shaded patches on the stained walls marked where pictures had once hung. Neither Dithra nor I paused to admire the decor, however, passing quickly through and down a short hallway to pause at a large door at the far end. The Eldest looked at me, a slight smile hovering about her lips. I smiled back, then gestured respectfully. After you. She nodded her head in acknowledgement, went through the door. I paused for the count of ten for Dithra to get herself situated, then walked through myself.
The doorway led out onto a vast factory floor, brightly lit by overhead mercury arcs, and vacant save for the occasional scarring of the concrete floor where heavy machinery once stood. To my immediate right I felt an enormous presence, but rather than risk another humiliating freeze I did not look in that direction. Instead, I closed my eyes and concentrated, and soon the nauseating, welcome pain of bones bending into different shapes swept over me. Sounds and smells grew richer and more intense, then my forelegs hit the floor with their usual thump. Another handful of seconds as I felt myself expand to my normal size, then I opened golden eyes to finally look upon Lady Dithra in her natural form, my long neck bending in another gesture of respect. "My Lady?" I said at last.
Dithra's massive head dipped in reply, her eyes of gold-flecked emerald warm as they gazed at me. Then she paused, and something tickled at the back of my thoughts. <. . . . ?>
I blinked, my mane jangling quietly as I gave my head a small shake. Then I realized what had just happened. "I'm sorry, my Lady," I responded "but I'm not very good at that. I have found that I'm very nearly 'deaf' to it, and the only way I've found to 'speak' in that manner is with the help of . . ." I glanced around ". . . a certain item."
Dithra rumbled regretfully, then paused to activate her torque. "Forgive me, young Hasai; I had hoped--" she trailed off, looking at me thoughtfully. "Well, you are indeed still quite young. Perhaps the gift of silent speaking will come to you more fully as you mature. I must admit it would have been quite useful, today," the huge dragoness finished wryly. She made a small gesture with an armored forepaw. "For now, however, both our allies and our adversaries await. Shall we?" I turned and followed Dithra as she padded her way toward the other side of the factory floor, where several groups of dragons stood watching us in the distance.
The building's main floor was so broad, it actually took a bit of time to make our way across it. I used that time to study the crowd. And crowd it was; I never thought I'd see so many dragons in one spot, all of them at least approaching Elder stature, if not well into it, the fading rumble of their conversations a vibration beneath my feet. The largest of the three groups consisted of the clans that had decided to side with us. I recognized several of the dragons in this bunch, with some small surprise spotting Tin'na'tak standing toward the rear. I caught his eye as we approached and nodded my respects, which he seemed a little startled to be on the receiving end of. Soberly, he nodded back.
The next group over were the smallest of the three. From the way they carefully stood apart from the other two, I suspected they were the last of the fence-sitters, or "the undecided," as Lady Dithra more diplomatically put it. I gave them a careful once-over, then ignored them, my attention drawn to the last group.
Ahnkar. It had been a while since I last saw the big, brown and green-banded dragon, not that I'd ever forget him. He was turned away from me at the moment, evidently trying to quell a squabble among some of the dragons ranked behind him. Several seconds later he turned back, and our gazes met with an almost physical impact. His eyes widened, muscles tensing in alarm. I couldn't help it; immediately my lips began to pull back into a carnivore's deadly grin. Eyes locked on my prey's, I felt my body begin to gather itself--