The Magic Wakes (4 page)

Give me more control and I can help you,
the demon whispered.

“Not until I can no longer hold the shape myself.” Jaron collapsed in the only chair in the room.

His true form, although humanoid like the Sendekians, was taller and thinner. The brown eyes of the disguise faded to smoky blue and the brown hair to golden blonde.

“Record journal date 203 after destruction: Today I infiltrated the Signum’s lair; it was pathetically easy. I have endeared myself to the
Master
,” he sneered with contempt at the title Werner had given himself, “by volunteering for some mission. I am to return in a few hours for further instructions. Once I have gained his trust I can finally have my revenge. End.”

Jaron closed his eyes savoring his satisfaction. Everything was going smoothly. After years of searching, he had found the planet Sendek only days after the Dragumon. They had already entered orbit around one of the moons and established contact with a group called the Signum. At first it infuriated him that the Dragumon had not struck this planet with the immediate wrath they had bestowed on his homeworld, but it didn’t take long to see the twisted game they were playing with these people.

There was no way he could successfully damage the great bloodwing ship the Dragumon called home. He had turned his attention to the Signum instead. The rest of the planet viewed them as a quarrelsome nuisance; a dissatisfied faction. Jaron believed they were much more than that. Everything he saw tonight had solidified his hunch. They knew of the existence of dragons even if they didn’t revere them as his world had. He had learned much during his indoctrination meeting. It was uncanny how similar the legends were on the two planets. Some of the dragon lords even had the same names.

Why are you so concerned with dragons? They left your planet, moved on without a word. But my kind stayed behind. Worship me, and I’ll give you all you desire
.

Jaron shoved the demon into its mental box deep in his mind. Two hundred years of its incessant nagging to worship him instead of the dragonkin had grown old.

“I’ll never worship your kind, even if I am forced to depend on your help.”

He slowly exhaled, trying to expel some of the coldness inside, but it was pointless. The demon retaliated by removing all the barriers Jaron had set up around his emotions. The ache in his heart became more intense and his desire to see his wife one more time became unbearable.

He opened his eyes and turned to the table on his left. A small glass cube sat beside a square hole. He slid it over the slot and let it fall in.

“Retrieve journal date 43652.”

A small screen appeared in the table beside him and showed an image of a beautiful woman holding a small child. It was the same image he had carried with him into the demon’s cave more than a hundred years earlier. Blonde hair dancing in the breeze, blue eyes. Their son’s small fist grasped for the strand blowing over his head.

Their cottage nestled in the background almost hidden by the trees, flowers, and herbs. The sky was pale blue with a few wispy clouds hanging around the mountains in the background.

“Play.” Jaron braced himself as the painful memories flashed before him.

“Say goodbye to daddy. Come on, say goodbye.” Dailya smiled and waved the little boy’s hands for him. “I know he can say it. Maybe he’ll show you when you get back.” She put the boy down on the ground and he waddled toward the shade of the house. “Now put that away and give me a proper goodbye.”

The screen went dark as the recording ended. Jaron savored the memory of that goodbye—her warmth and the feel of her lips. He never should have left her alone. He should have turned down the diplomatic mission, and then he could have died with her.

“Do you wish to continue to the next entry?” a metallic voice questioned.

Jaron’s chest tightened as he recalled his return home. The space around Orek had been strangely empty. There had been no demands for him to identify himself before entering the atmosphere, but he didn’t grasp the meaning until he saw it with his own eyes. Everything had been destroyed. There were no homes, buildings, nothing. It was all gone.

He had flown straight home, past the charred remains of cities and farm villages, to one wall and a pile of rubble. There had been no sign of Dailya or his son, only scorch marks. He had entered the space where his front room had been and struggled to keep breathing. A glimmer had caught his eye, and he pulled a small recorder from beneath the debris. He had pushed play and watched his wife’s last words.

“Continue.”

Dailya was huddled in a storage closet holding their son close to her and the recorder in front of her with one hand. His son was crying and Dailya tried to quiet him.

“Baby, shh. Please or they’ll find us.” She turned to look at the recorder and continued whispering. “I know that if you find this you will have many questions, and I’m sorry I have no answers to give you. All I know is that an alien race called the Dragumon attacked the day after you left. They sent one message that said they had returned to claim Sendek as their own. Our wizards have fought alongside the military, but they have been wiped out.”

The recorder shook as Dailya looked around. An explosion sounded in the background. Dailya paled, and his son wailed. His lovely wife dropped the recorder and tried to shield their child with her body as the walls around her were blasted away.

Jaron watched the two people he loved most in the world melt before his eyes.

“Stop.” Jaron slid from the chair and let the pain wash over him. He let it feed the demon within him. If he wanted to make the Dragumon pay for his wife’s death, he would need its help. To keep him focused as much as to keep him alive.

The sharp pain that made him breathless slowly ebbed to a dull ache, and the demon grew stronger.

Thinking about his lecture on the topic made Talia want to laugh. She could find her way around the city with her eyes closed she knew it so well. She could walk to each location of her death in the nightmares.

She placed the sunglasses back on and took a shaky step into the indoor tram station. The air tasted stale and sweaty; Cahal waited on the platform. Talia steeled herself for their first face to face meeting.

“Miss Zaryn, there you are.” Cahal reached out and took her free hand in his.

In his mid-sixties, with graying hair and laugh lines, he looked even more fatherly up close than in the video calls. His hands were as warm as his brown eyes.

“President Cahal, you didn’t have to meet me yourself.” Talia tried to pull her hand free, but Cahal held it tight. She feared he would notice how cold and shaky hers were.

“My dear, it’s my pleasure.” He released her hand and grabbed the bag. “Now, why don’t you take those glasses off until we get outside? There’s no need to hide, you know.”

“I’m not hiding, I just . . .” Sighing, she reached up and removed the glasses.

Cahal watched her face and didn’t react in the way she expected.

“There now, that wasn’t so hard was it? Double recessive of a rare gene. Fascinating. There won’t be any intolerance at the office. You can be sure of that.” Cahal waved toward the doors and the busy street.

The skyscrapers cast shadows that danced with the sporadic bursts of sunslight. Talia glanced up at the puzzle of blue sky, light, shadows, and aeroflyers in constant motion. The air smelled of warm asphalt, reminding her of the burning city in her dreams.

Cahal offered his arm, and in her weakness, Talia held on tighter than she thought she should.

“The city isn’t all that bad. You’ll be surprised how fast you get used to it. Everything is fairly close since we built up instead of out.” Cahal continued talking as an aeroflyer lowered in front of them. “Land preservation and all that.”

“Do we need to fly?”

“I’ve heard you would rather walk miles across cities than ride in the air transit. Why is that?”

Talia didn’t like flying in general, but to fly in Joharadin was a double threat. “It’s silly really.”

“Is this about your brother?” Cahal squeezed her hand.

“Yes.”

“My dear, I can promise you our aeroflyers are safe. We’ve not had any crash in as long as I can remember. The University and SEF offices are at least twelve miles from here. I don’t think my old legs could handle the walk.”

Talia nodded and stepped inside, taking a seat. Her breathing grew shallow, and she gripped the edge of the seat until her knuckles went white.

They flew through the city as Cahal pointed out areas of interest. Talia didn’t want to look but couldn’t turn away. Cahal ticked off the name of each business they passed. There was no need to comment, which was fortunate since she spent the whole ride trying not to throw up.

When they flew over the SEF research center, Talia noticed a small garden with lawn chairs on the roof of one of the buildings.

The tram descended in front of it—an apartment complex. The structure stood lower than the surrounding ones, leaving the garden exposed to view.

No chance of drinking the sunsrise from there
.

“Here you go.” Cahal carried her bag into the building and into the elevator.

He pushed the floor for the forty-second floor. “Settle in and tomorrow I’ll give you a tour of our offices.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

Talia tried to smile but it turned into more of a grimace. Cahal handed her the key and headed back down the hall. She stepped into the apartment, sagged against the closed door, and looked around the room.

The apartment was nicer than the last few she had occupied. Small, with one room that functioned as a living and dining area and a short hallway that led to the bedroom with a bathroom. Standard SEF layout, except that someone had taken the time to decorate.

Instead of stark white walls and bland furniture, the walls were a rich chocolate adorned with black and white photographs of trees. Decorative pillows with a circular pattern in bright greens and yellows contrasted with the neutral couch and chair. The burst of color from the vase of flowers on the coffee table drew Talia in.

She sank her nose deep into the buds and inhaled the sweet honey scent of them. They reminded her of her mother.

Keeta popped his head out of the bag and took in the new surroundings.

“Good job staying hidden, boy. Here, go explore.” Talia set the bag on the floor beside the couch. He jumped out.

“Now, first things first.” Talia reached into the bag and pulled out a slim rectangular piece of plastic. She set it beside the cabinet in the kitchen and pressed a button in one corner. While the sheet of plastic reformed itself into a box, she stepped up to the metabolizer and ordered up a pound of mint tea leaves. She poured them into the box, knowing Keeta would soon find the familiar scent.

Once that was finished, she pulled the picture of her family out of the bag and placed it by the flowers. Talia fingered the wood frame around the picture then slumped onto the couch.

At least they won’t suffer when the Scalies come. No, the Dragumon. I must remember that name.

She rested her head on one of the cushions, propped her feet on the armrest and waited for the nausea to pass. Moving to this city, at this age, wearing this face?

God, what have I done?

She didn’t know she was the woman until her teens. By then she began to recognize the features as her own. The expressions of fear.

The worst part was realizing she would die alone. Years had passed, but the memory of her parents’ death, followed a few years later by her brother’s, still hurt.

An unseen air current brought the scent of the flowers to her. They smelled like her mother’s favorite perfume.

She wouldn’t want Talia to give up hope.

Talia got up from the couch, splashed water on her face, and changed her clothes. It was time to get to work.