Undeath and Taxes (22 page)

6.

The footsteps were still a ways down the hall when I finally realized that I’d mis-analyzed our situation. It was the breathing that gave it away. The heavy breathing of our impending opponents led me to notice their quickened pulses—their hearts were racing after running up several flights of stairs. Except a mere effort like that should have been nothing for most parahumans.

“Oh, for the love of . . .” I resisted smacking myself in the head, but only barely. “Those wards affected everyone who came in the building, right? Even if it was someone who was in cahoots with the dragon?”

“Unless they had enough juice to be considered comparable, or were apparently carting around dragon blood,” Bubba confirmed.

“Little less talking would be nice while I try to unravel the secrets of an ancient arcane lock.” Amy had made it halfway around the cube, causing her voice to echo off the surrounding walls, tinny and distant.

“That means whoever these people are, they’re probably close to human too.”

“Right, but given your usual attitude toward spillin’ blood, I can’t imagine that will work too much in our favor,” Bubba said.

“We don’t have to fight them; we just have to stop them. And if they’re almost human, then I know exactly how to do just that.” I raced forward, all too aware of how close our enemy had drawn, and grabbed the door. I slammed it shut, then turned around and braced myself against the seam where it would have connected to the lock.

“This thing is reinforced. I’m betting they can’t punch through it,” I declared. “At least, not in five minutes.”

“Down to four, actually,” Amy called from somewhere on the other side of the cube.

Bubba stared at me for a moment, then rushed across the room, throwing his bulk against the door right before a huge force struck it from the other side. I was so taken by surprise that I bucked forward, my smooth-soled shoes slipping against the dull gray carpet beneath them. Luckily, Bubba’s own strike was enough to hold the door shut, and I quickly put myself back in position.

Whoever was on the other side slammed against the door with constant, frantic blows. They were powerful, even with the runes reducing their power, but between my vampiric strength and Bubba’s hefty body, we were able to keep the door shut through the first wave of attack.

“Damn, I’m really missing my weresteed form right about now,” Bubba panted from my side. He was bracing the door with his arms, heels dug into the carpet and sweat already beginning to drip down his face. “Nobody moves a horse that don’t want to be moved.”

A huge
slam
hit the door as one of the would-be intruders threw their entire body at it. The door held, thankfully, though I had to wonder how much more the frame could take. Sooner or later, they’d knock it off its hinges. All I could do was hope it would be later.

“I’m missing your weresteed form too. I’m no good at this sort of job.”

Bubba snorted and shook his head. “Coulda fooled me. Seems like at least once a month you’re yanking somebody out of trouble.”

“I assure you—” Another huge blow struck the door, followed immediately by a second, and Bubba and I both focused on keeping our only barrier of safety in place.

“I assure you, it’s almost always happenstance and coincidence.”

“Whatever you say.” Bubba didn’t seem like he believed me, but his face was red from effort and sweat poured freely down his collar. Arguing, clearly, was a luxury he could not spare the energy for.

Amy emerged from the opposite side of the cube, a faint halo of swirling, colored lights around her head. “I’ve got a mixed bag of news. Pretty sure I found a way to open a gate in this thing, but I’m equally sure it’s not going to let in anyone but a dragon. Also, I’m going to be dropping in about another minute here, so it’s doubtful I’ll figure out any other entrance.”

“That really seems like all bad news,” I told her, gritting my teeth as another shower of attacks fell on the door at my back.

“It probably is, but we do have one shot: that dragon blood in you has kept you safe from suppressing runes and draconic auras. There’s a fair chance that you might be able to pass through whatever gate I can open.”

“Well then, sure, let’s give that a try.”

“Hang on, wasn’t done,” Amy said. “It might let you through, but remember what I said about dragon magic being unpredictable? Trying to pass through the warded gate might also blow you up, or turn you into a bunny, or any other of a million possibilities. One drop of blood does not a dragon make.”

“Forget it, we’ll just have to tear the damn thing apart the old-fashioned way,” Bubba grunted, face still staring at the floor.

He wouldn’t hold much longer; neither would the door, for that matter. Amy was going to be passed out and helpless in under a minute, and even if I were in any way good at fighting, there was still no way I could look out for both of them in that sort of situation. If I’d had time to think about it, I certainly would have tried to find a solution that posed less risk, but in that moment, the most hard-wired piece of my mind took over: the accountant.

Two of my friends’ lives, plus Gideon’s, plus the ones up in the gala, all weighed against my own. The math was simple.

“Open the gate,” I told Amy, readjusting my feet to keep the door in place for what I hoped would be long enough.

“On it.” Amy scrambled over to the cube, running her fingers along it in patterns I didn’t recognize. Having her consciousness on a clock helped her understand the urgency of the situation. Bubba, however, was not so inclined to accept my decision.

“Fred, don’t be an idiot. Gettin’ yourself destroyed doesn’t do a damn thing to help anyone.”

“Amy said I could pass through.”

“Amy said you
might
be able to pass through. Maybe. As in, there is some chance,” Bubba said. “And even if it does work, you have no idea what’s through there. For all we know, you could end up trapped just like Gideon.”

“I’m aware of the risks.”

“Then why are you doing this?” Bubba’s words were somewhere between a yell and a groan as he pressed against the warped frame of the door with all his might, driving back the attackers who’d started to gain ground.

“I don’t know!” I was yelling too, trying to be heard over the steady thundering of our adversary’s attacks. “I don’t have a good reason. I’m not stupid; I know it’s probably going to backfire or mess me up. I know I’m not the guy who saves the day. But . . . but I guess I’m also not the guy who can do nothing while the people he loves gets hurt.”

“Fred!” Amy hollered from her position across the room. “It’s go time!” As she spoke, a panel in the cube slid away, revealing a rectangle filled with orange light. Not even my enhanced vision could make out what was on the other side—which didn’t surprise me in the slightest.

I started to move forward, then felt the door buckle behind me. I’d nearly forgotten that without me holding the door, they’d easily overpower Bubba. That would leave both him and Amy completely defenseless.

“Go. I got this,” Bubba snapped. He took a long, deep breath, and then shuffled over slightly, putting himself dead center on the door.

“Bubba, not even you can—”

“I
got
this. Trust me.”

For a moment, I hesitated. Then I saw the look in his eye—more ferocious and determined than I’d glimpsed even a hint of before. He was telling the truth. He would hold this door with everything he had. It was on me to make it back in time.

“Thank you,” I said.

Then I was off, dashing through the room before I had a chance to think about any of it. If I let my brain kick into gear, it would find a reason to take me off course. It always did. The only shot I had (that any of us had) was my body moving before my brain really understood was going on.

I tore through the room at top speed, passing Amy as she settled on the floor and the lights around her head started to fade. I didn’t slow down—not for her, not even when I got close to the orange doorway in the middle of the cube. There was no slowing down, no stopping. This was all or nothing.

I hit the doorway still going top speed. All the sound from the room died out instantly as I hurdled through what felt like an eternal, empty orange void. Come what may, I was across the threshold.

Everything dissolved, and I fell into nothingness.

7.

“Well, this is certainly unexpected.”

The voice was the first thing I’d heard since plunging through that orange doorway. Only when my ears registered it did I notice that I was also touching the ground; I could feel it pushing against my body where I was sprawled out. Carefully, I peeled my eyes open, overwhelmed to see something other than that strange abyss I’d stepped through. It was impossible to say how long it had taken me to cross over. I could only hope it was on the shorter end of the spectrum.

Pulling myself up from the ground, I took in my surroundings. The inside of the cube was lined with more runes,  which ran across the floor and ceiling as well. They wove through the interior, stopping only in the floor’s center, where they formed a wide circle encompassing a single occupant. Sitting in the middle, legs crossed and wearing a bored expression, was Gideon. At least, I hoped he was the real Gideon. By this point, I was starting to take nothing for granted.

“Are you okay?” I asked, finishing the act of rising and adjusting my now rumpled jacket.

“Just peachy. I love being locked up like this. Might have Sinorah make me one of these to replace my bed.”

I relaxed momentarily. If Gideon could be snide, then he probably wasn’t hurt, just stuck. My ease quickly ended when I recalled that there was a soon-to-be-overpowered Bubba and a defenseless Amy waiting for assistance. We didn’t have time for pleasantries.

“I’m here to break you out.”

“And here I assumed you just wanted to come visit.”

“Gideon, enough.” I raised my voice ever so slightly, all too aware of the fact that I was speaking to a being who could probably destroy me with little more than a thought. “Please, there isn’t time for you to be glib. Amy and Bubba are in danger right outside, and who knows what the other dragon is doing to everyone else. I don’t know anything about how all this magic stuff works, so I’m going to need your help to get you free.”

“The other dragon’s name is Sinorah,” Gideon said, tone still flat and bored. “And she may not be as old or strong as I am, but she still weaves a fine spell. It will take another dragon or an archmage to break me out of here. I appreciate the sentiment of what you’re trying to do; it’s just not enough.”

“But . . . there are people out there who need you.” My eyes searched around frantically, trying to find something, anything, my brain might find familiar. As they scanned, I realized I didn’t even see an orange doorway like the one I’d entered through. The entire interior was smooth and unbroken.

“Some of whom will certainly die,” Gideon agreed. “I dislike it, but there is nothing to be done. Sinorah managed to trick me, and now, I’ve been removed from the game board. It is embarrassing, and perhaps a bit humbling, but it has happened. There is no undoing what has been done.”

“How can you be so calm about this? What about everyone up there? What about Sally? Richard told me you’re engaged or something, doesn’t at least she matter to you?” I was grasping at straws by this point, my mind already filling with horrid images of what was happening to Bubba and Amy just outside the metal walls.

Gideon’s eyes flashed (and I mean that literally) as his expression warped from bored to fierce. I practically saw the fire in his mouth as he spoke (and again, I’m speaking quite literally here). “Sally Alderson is more valuable than you could possibly fathom, blood-eater. Not just to me, but to all of my dwindling kind. Sinorah would not dare try to harm her. She will have taken up my duties as guardian, just as she assumed my identity.”

“Are you sure about that?” I was prodding a dragon at this point, but it wasn’t like I had much in the way of options. “Sally wasn’t at the gala, even though ‘you’ were. Krystal told me she’d taken ill over the last few days, right around the time you probably vanished. That sure doesn’t seem like Sinorah keeping her close and safe.”

By this point, I had seen a limited array of emotions from Gideon, King of the West. Disdain, annoyance, dismissal, anger, boredom, and even kindness when he was talking to Sally. That day, however, I saw something I had never witnessed cross Gideon’s face, something I wouldn’t have suspected was even possible.

That day, I saw fear in Gideon’s eyes.

He rose from his sitting position, the momentary hint of terror gone as a building rage took it’s place. “That whelp. She dares to let the Tiamat fall into illness, or, worse, she is trying to drain that magic herself.”

“The what?” I liked where this was going, but it had suddenly become hard to follow.

He paid me no mind, eyes flashing as he looked around the room, seemingly seeing it for the first time. Finally, those eyes settled on me, and Gideon let out a long, slow breath.

“Blood-eater, how badly do you wish to save your friends?”

“Bad enough to probably agree to whatever crazy thing you’re going to ask of me.”

Gideon smiled, a dangerous baring of teeth that sent a wave of terror through my stomach. “You understand well how these things work. My earlier words were true: this cage cannot be broken by anything save for another dragon or an extremely skilled user of magic. Of the two of us, I happen to fit both criteria, but cannot leave my circle. You can walk in and out freely, yet you lack the necessary power and skill to affect anything outside of it.”

“Yes, yes, I know, I’m useless. Now, tell me how we can break you free.”

“Not useless, just weak.” Gideon’s hands shimmered as long claws extended from his fingernails. “Your type has a unique trait, though. You can take strength from more powerful creatures. With a little magic of my own, and a healthy dose of blood, you can be turned into a suitable vessel for me to work through.”

“How . . . how much blood are we talking?” A single drop had left me so strong that it took me days before I got the hang of it. I couldn’t imagine what a full dose of Gideon’s blood would do to me.

“Enough.” He lifted his right arm and gently ran a claw down his left forearm. The flesh parted, revealing a small red river drifting lazily down his arm. “Bear in mind, this is not a boon or a blessing. The power needed to break apart this cage will likely consume all that I can give you, and perhaps a bit more. This is powerful magic, and as you should know by now, magic always comes with a price.”

I stepped forward, walking across the room and stepping over the circle, into the heart of Gideon’s cage. “Just promise me you’ll save my friends. That’s
my
price.”

“You are a strange one, blood-eater. Most would ask more from a king.” Gideon’s claws shrank away, and he dipped a fingertip in the blood. Reaching upward, he began to draw something on my forehead with it.

“I don’t need more. My friends are the only valuable thing I have. If you save them, that’s enough. And my name is Fred, not blood-eater.”

“Very well then, Fred.” Gideon finished his drawing and lifted the still-bleeding arm up to my face. “I will honor your bargain. No matter what may become of you, know that I will personally protect your friends. And, if I am too late to fulfill that duty, I will avenge them with great prejudice.”

I didn’t want to think about that part; in fact, I was trying hard not to dwell on any of what was happening. Instead, I focused on the one thing I knew I had to do to save my friends. For once, I was thankful for the vampire instincts that came bundled with my body. They were screaming at me to drink the dragon blood whose scent was filling my nostrils. That primitive voice was drowning out the rest of me, the parts that were too scared of what might happen if I did, or worried about whether or not I’d survive. Those were all concerns of the human side of me, the part that valued survival over everything else. All the vampire inside me knew was blood. Sweet, powerful, dripping blood. I’d spent so much of my time trying to ignore that aspect of who I was, but in that moment, it was my closest ally.

I’ll skip the specifics, because I’ve yet to find a way to talk about drinking blood that doesn’t come across as . . . unsavory. The point is, I drank, and as I did, I could feel Gideon’s power flowing through me. A single drop had made me nearly lose my mind; the first mouthful plunged me beyond a state of thought. Still, my body continued working on autopilot, drinking all it could from the still flowing wound. I have no idea how long we stood like that, there was no time when I was in that state. All I know is that when Gideon drew away, I felt as though I had swallowed a dozen suns. The power radiating through me was beyond reason. To know that this existed in the same world I occupied, to truly understand it, would have driven me to the ground in a fit of sheer existential panic. Thankfully, I was not the one in the primary pilot’s seat at that moment.

Gideon was in my mind, just as his blood was in my body. I could feel the tingle of the rune on my forehead as my legs turned and walked out of the circle. I was aware of it; I was aware of so much that it threatened to drown me in madness. I could feel the very spin of the earth beneath my feet, hear the sound of raindrops from states away. If this was how Gideon lived every day of his life, I had no idea how he bore it.

“All right, blood-eat . . . Fred. It’s time to go to work.”

My body complied, reaching for the nearest rune as words I’d never heard before began tumbling out of my mouth.

I can’t tell you what Gideon did with my body. Not out of any desire to keep the arcane ceremony a secret or some such nonsense, but because the headrush of his blood, paired with the complete foreignness of what I was doing, means that the memories I do have of that time are hazy and nonsensical. The only part I remember with any clarity is the very end, when my pale hands were laid down on the outer runes of the circle around him.

“Try to hang on,” Gideon warned me. “This part might be a little rough.”

Then, with no more warning, my world lit up in a flurry of static, pain, and the sensation of being drained. It was thankfully brief, but the intensity was such that it seemed to stretch on for days. I have no idea when, or how, it ended. One moment I was engulfed in the madness, feeling all that power inside me crash itself against an opposing force . . .

And then, there was only darkness.