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Chapter 12: Bringing Down the House
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"How did they figure out their human identities? I bet the other magical creatures are ratting us out, it's the only explanation!"
"Does it matter, lizard breath? We all know it's only a matter of time before all our identities get revealed, one way or another."
"It matters if it means we get abducted, little-miss-princess."
"Beaver bite."
"Angsty tween."
"Momma's gecko."
"Pimplesaurus."
Haley gasped and peered closer to her mirror. The proximity distorted her features as she felt over her face, glaring this way and that. Though he couldn't see her, the sounds of her distress were enough to make Gregory smirk from his own frame.
Lao Shi heaved a tired breath from the opposite end. "When will you outgrow such childishness?"
From his place slouching behind his office desk, Jake was separated from the conversation. The lights inside did nothing for the room's dark atmosphere. In the small space of his desk not carpeted by more of Margret's sticky notes, his laptop sat open with two videos pulled up. He'd watched them both several times over, squinting and searching for any detail, any possible clue, but all he'd found were two performances eerily like the one in Brisbane. Two simple stages had been erected, two supposedly plain humans had been dragged atop them, and both had been transformed into beasts by masked vigilantes and their infernal machines. The curt speeches they gave were just like before. The People, it seemed, valued consistency in their horrible work.
"And what about you, oh glorious leader?" griped Gregory. "Are you gonna say something or just sit there moping all day?"
The nasally complaint pulled Jake from his vacant thoughts. He leaned up in his chair, muttering, "No one knows how they got made. It's just like last time. Both hadn't been seen for around twelve hours before the People brought them out in public, and we're not sure where and how they were captured."
"And the authorities haven't found anything?" asked Haley.
Jake shook his head.
They shared a moment of silence. "Well, this sucks," said Gregory matter-of-factly. "Between this and that interview, the humans are really gonna hate us. Just imagine how bad the PR will be-"
"PR?!" snapped Haley. "Is that really all you're thinking about right now? PR? Three dragons have been turned into mindless killing machines, you ignoramus, and you're standing there talking about PR!"
"What! You think pretending like the media isn't going to have a field day with this is gonna make it any better?"
"I swear, if there wasn't a thousand miles and two mirrors between us, I'd-"
"Easy, Hales," said Jake. "Greggy's got a point."
They both glared at him and shouted in unison.
"Don't defend him!" - "Of course I do!"
Jake's hand snagged in his hair. "Look, the Spanish and Indian Dragons are locked up on the Isle of Draco, and luckily they both had back-up dragons. Short of tracking down the People and finding out what they did with those souls, there's nothing else we can do. But there's gonna be fallout, and we gotta be ready to deal with it." He abandoned the stubborn knots. "Where are Sun and Natalya?"
"Sun's out checking on nearby creatures," said Haley, scowl lingering. "We're planning on doing some rounds, then holding up in the DMC for the next few days."
"Same here," said Gregory.
Jake nodded. "Right now, we've all got two jobs. First, go into hiding. Cancel any cases that aren't emergencies. Until we figure out how these guys are finding us, we need to show our faces as little as possible. Same thing goes for the dragon masters, you too Gramps."
Gregory pumped his fist. "Don't have to tell me twice! Wow, I can't believe I'm agreeing with you. This really is the end of the world."
"And second, everyone needs to fly somewhere totally random and out in the open once or twice a day."
"Yup," he muttered. "There it is."
"Here me out. So far they're only targeting us, not other magical creatures. That might change if we go off the radar, so we have to keep the spotlight on us without totally giving ourselves away. Y'all can fly out for fast food for all I care, just make it far away from your homes and DMC's, clear?"
The three had different reactions: Lao Shi pondered, Haley grimaced, and Gregory shrugged indifferently. "Fine by me," his cousin said. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go track down Nat and give her the good news."
"And Greggy - don't get caught." Jake watched the boy, his hand wiry held inches away from tapping the mirror back to glass. "If anything feels off, you call me. I am not gonna lose any of you to those creeps, you hear me?"
"Jake, I'm gonna be honest with you - I would rather be skinned alive by that cult than call you begging for help. Thanks for the offer though!" Gregory waved with a stupid grin.
The image flashed out of existence.
"I really hope he gets his wish." Haley turned her bored stare away to Jake's scenery. She blinked. "Uh…are you sleeping in your office?"
Her focus was the bundle of cheap blankets piled against cardboard boxes that Jake considered a makeshift pillow. The blatant ridicule was somehow offensive. The setup wasn't that uncomfortable.
"Don't worry about it. I'll let you know if anything changes." Jake stood and approached the mirrors. It was as if three new corridors had been built into his office, one with the door closed and the other two guiding him to his family, so close he wished he could hold them. "And Hales…take care of the folks, okay? They're in just as much danger as us. If our secrets get out-"
"I know. Don't worry about it."
Her fingers reached forward, met the mirror, and remained. Silk skin flattened, rounded, molded over glass. Jake moved his fingers to cover hers, like all that separated them was a thin window. If he focused, he could almost convince himself the spot felt warm.
The illusion vanished along with her.
Wood floors scraped. To his left, Jake watched his grandfather climb down from his usual stool. "I'll leave you to your work, grandson. Should the Council learn anything, you and Fu Dog will be the first to know."
"Hey G, I thought of something earlier today."
Lao Shi turned. "Yes?"
"The Great Evanescence. The Council decides when to activate it, right? Whatever happens, they're the ones that pull the trigger."
"Yes, young one."
The center of Jake's chest ached. When his fingers probed the spot now, all they felt was his shirt and the bony sternum beneath. Yet there was a string, too. Like when his grandfather had visualized his dragon chi, it hooked deep in his heart like a fishing line and pulled far, far away where his scale rested in a cave. At any moment his own leaders could use it to cripple him in the worst way. He lived with a time-bomb ticking in his chest, counting down the perilous seconds, and he would live with it for the rest of his life.
What an unsettling sensation - and his scale wasn't even up for grabs.
"If they use it," said Jake, "and reset the world, make everyone forget the existence of magical creatures, that'll include the People. They won't remember stealing those souls, or what they did with them. Even if we managed to track them down, we'd have no chance of ever saving Fred or the others."
"That…would likely be true."
"And the Council hasn't done it yet…so when will they? After we lose five dragons? Twenty? A hundred?"
"I don't know." Lao Shi stroked his flowing whiskers. "It's an impossible decision. Perhaps when we have no more volunteers to give? Of the dozens of scales offered, already we owe twelve. How long indeed."
"Twelve?" Jake looked back at the calendar on his desk and counted on his fingers. "Check your math, G. It's only been-"
"A little over ten weeks. But the Australian Dragon was already one of those ten, as was the Spanish Dragon by coincidence. To harvest their chi when that is all that sustains their bodies would be disastrous at best, if not lethal. Their scales have been removed from the offering, but they would still be lost to us, as you said. And so," he held up two fingers, "twelve, soon thirteen."
"Huh. Great, that's great. You know, gramps," said Jake, stalking out of the office, "I'm starting to get the feeling the world straight up hates us."
"Remember, Jake, that the greatest-"
The door decapitated the rest.
Dr. Connally's unpainted fingers flit through the stacked essays like piano keys.
"Here we are." She plucked one from the middle, placed it on the podium, and slid the rest back in her satchel. "You don't have another lecture after this, right? I don't want to disrupt your schedule."
"Nah, you're good," said Jake. He spared a glance at the lecture hall's exit where Liz held the door for students shuffling outside. "No more classes today, just studying."
"Good", she breathed, "because this is a mess."
Jake's neck hairs brimmed. "Mess? Sheesh, you're not holding back today."
"That's what they pay me for." Pen in hand, she ran through the essay and pointed at the already heavily annotated pages. "If I had to sum it up, I'd say your problem was being too superficial. At times I can see hints of deeper ideas, but ultimately all you did was repeat the main events. It felt like I was reading an outline, or a particularly dry SparkNotes summary. I know the plots of the Canterbury Tales, Jake, I don't need a refresher. What I needed was an argument about the different stories' expressions of chivalry. And your argument, well," she flopped the stapled packet down like a dead goldfish, "it doesn't exit."
It was easiest for Jake to just focus on the essay. Red ink overshadowed black by a sickening margin. "My bad, Dr. Connally. I didn't realize I was that off."
"You don't have to apologize, Jake. I know this isn't up to your usual standard, and it's hardly enough to really impact your grade. My only concern here is you." She leaned between him and the podium, pushing her face in line with his. "I get the feeling this was a labor of distraction. You know extensions are available for extraneous circumstances, right?"
"Yeah, I know." Jake took the essay and turned to the exit. "Thanks, Professor Connally. I'll do better next time."
"Looking forward to it," she called at his back. "Finals are just around the corner, so hang in there!"
Jake was pretty sure the words were meant to be encouraging. She would have had better luck giving a brick of lead a pep talk.
Liz let the door close behind them. "It was bad, wasn't it?"
Jake answered with silence. Even now, his wit was failing him. All he could think of was how frustrating it was that he couldn't be happy at a time like this. Leaves were changing around them in a rare display for the seasonless city, and the sky overhead swam with cotton clouds. Finals were a month away, and after that Jake would be through with his first successful semester of college. None of it was normal. None of it felt remotely possible just a year ago. Right now, this moment of time, should have been the height of his life.
Instead he was stuck like this, an empty breeze blowing building to building.
Liz wrapped her arm around his. "It's only one essay," she said, head falling onto his shoulder. "I know it sucks right now, but you'll be fine. Don't let it get to you, and don't forget," she snickered, "you wrote it when you were sick. Of course it's not going to be Shakespeare."
"Yeah…you're right." Jake tucked her in closer. He wished fixing everything was that simple. This moment, though, walking as they were…this wasn't so bad.
Whether it was the weather or the anxiety built over months, the rest of campus matched his solemnity. No birds sang this time of year, and the bugs had long abandoned their rattling choirs. Only rustling leaves broke the quiet with their scents of chilly, wet decay. Jake welcomed the peace as they headed for the main quad. It was a pleasant change from the constant noises of the Underdown DMC.
It wasn't long before the quadrangle stretched before them and they passed beneath the library's massive shadow. Jake glanced at the fortress of knowledge with its towering windows and sighed, "Here's my stop. I'll text you when I'm done and we can grab something to eat, okay?"
"I don't mind sticking around," she shrugged. "Aren't you studying with Spud and Trixie again? Maybe while you work, they can slip me some more pictures of itty-bitty Jake!"
Jake smiled, a puff of air escaping his nose. "Definitely not doing that. Besides, this is with some other people for my math class. It's way below the stuff you're doing, you'd be bored to death."
"Oh well. In that case, I'll leave you to it. Good luck!"
Liz untangled herself but Jake kept a hold on her hand. Their fingers slowly slid apart as she walked away, laughing to herself. It made Jake smile too, even as he held on a little too tight. Then they separated entirely. She waved her farewell and Jake reciprocated while climbing the steps to the library.
Say what you want about the rest of his life; this, at least, was his.
This was the farthest, darkest, most secluded corner of the library's ground floor. It was hard to believe you were even in a library since the bookshelves and windows ended some distance away. The lights were dim, the dust heavy, and air poisoned with sterile scents from the bathrooms nearby.
Jake wondered, then, what Wal had to smile about so widely.
"Jake! So good to see you!" The lanky boy hopped to his feet with enthusiasm. He didn't attempt to hug Jake, though the way his arms swayed hinted at his contained emotion. "We haven't seen you in forever! There's so much for us to talk about - well, who needs to study anyway? The others will be so happy you came!"
Jake glanced at the neglected table beside them and the untouched chairs surrounding it, one of which was taken by a limp pile of baggy clothes.
"Everyone, huh?" he asked.
The pile shifted and a face materialized. Zach's ratty hair and drooping features matched his ensemble. It was like watching the ghost of an angsty child possess a deflated balloon. "Dragon. Huh, who shit in your breakfast?"
Jake sat at the table, Wal following behind. "No offence, but that doesn't mean much coming from you."
"What, Zach? You just have to get to know him better," said Wal. "Sure, he looks like he's thinking of dozens of ways he could physically and psychologically destroy us, but really that's just his Monday face."
The sylph, baggy arms still crossed on the table, glared at Wal like an offensive spotlight. Which, given how his impressive teeth gleamed in this shadowy recess, was understandable.
The cheerful lycanthrope took no notice. Instead he pulled books and pencils from his backpack, asking as he went, "You must be getting ready for finals, right Jake? This is the first time you've ever come to one of our study groups. That can't be a good sign."
"Well, you're sorta right - but not about studying. I wanted to make sure you guys are doing okay. Y'know, since there's been all this stuff in the news lately…"
"Oh no!" gasped Wal, hands slapping over his gaping mouth. "I was so surprised I completely forgot - the two dragons that went wild yesterday! I'm so sorry Jake, I can't imagine…are you okay?"
Zach sighed, "What, no waterworks Wal? Are you dehydrated or something?"
"I'm fine," muttered Jake, looking about for curious ears. "But can you keep it down? My identity's one of the only things I've still got, and I'm trying to keep it that way. And dude, no joke, you've got some serious attitude problems."
Wal wiped his nose and sniffed, "No, he's right. Normally I'm a mess by now. Come to think of it I haven't had anything to drink all day. Thanks, Zach."
The pale boy buried back face-down in his arms. From the hoodie came a muffled, "Sure."
Jake looked between the two. This was the first real interaction he'd had with them, and the first thing he concluded was that trying to understand them was like playing chess with poker chips. Good thing understanding them wasn't his priority right now. He shook his head and continued, "Where are Merida and Edith? I was hoping I could catch all you guys at once."
"Should be here any minute," said Wal. "They almost never miss, and when they do, they let us know ahead of time. Fair warning though, if you're thinking of telling Merida to go back into hiding then you're in for a very tough fight. She already hates us for making her study so far away from the other students. Okay, 'hate' is a strong word, especially for Merida."
"Y'all can hate me all you want," said Jake. "If it means you're safe, then fine by me. Not like I'm not used to it by now."
"Well, that's…" Wal tapped a finger against his cheek, "…masochistic?"
Zach's hoodie mumbled, "Sad."
"If you guys saw that interview last week, hopefully it was obvious. Welcome to being a magical guardian." Jake shrugged. "Job first, popularity second."
"Hey, come on now," said Wal. "We like you!"
The pile of baggy clothes coughed.
"Oh…well, I like you."
"You barely know me, Wal."
He flopped his wrists with a flippant smirk. "Who really knows anyone, you know? Especially us magical creatures - we've spent our whole lives perfecting how to not be ourselves. I don't know about you, but half the time I can't even remember which parts of me are real and which are for everyone else. And if you spend all your time being what others want you to be, then really isn't that more of who you are than who you think you are? Where was I going with this…well anyway, at some point you just have to have faith in other people or the paranoia will drive you crazy. And as far as I can tell, you're a great guy!"
Jake rested a cheek on his hand, elbow on the table. "Huh. What are you majoring in again?"
"Philosophy! You?"
"Undeclared."
Wal nodded. "So was I Freshman year. It takes time to figure out your passions." He bounced to his feet and pointed back toward the main area of the library. "I'm gonna grab something from the vending machine, be right back."
He vanished in seconds. Even when it came to securing food, Wal accomplished the task with enthusiasm. The length of his stride didn't hurt either. Another time Jake might have found that kind of optimistic energy overbearing, but right now it was invigorating. Even in these demoralizing times some positivity remained.
"I didn't think the interview was that bad."
The voice was crisp and clear. Jake looked to find Zach still slouched on the table, but now with his face up and chin resting on his arms. The sylph's unnaturally green eyes watched him half-open with fatigue…or was it boredom?
Jake was so busy interpreting the glance he'd forgotten the prompt. "Uh…say that again?"
"The interview last week," Zach repeated, his head bobbing as he spoke. "With Banderly? It was pretty good."
"I can't tell if you're being sarcastic." Zach offered no clarification. "Were you watching the right interview? Because I'm pretty sure that thing was as far from 'good' as possible."
"How so?"
"How so? How…she basically sabotaged me! Bringing up old cases from when we were still in hiding, asking crazy complicated questions I had no way of answering, it was like she handed me a shovel and made me dig my own grave on national TV! Man, don't give me that," he hissed at Zach's eyeroll. "There wasn't a single good thing about that whole disaster, and you know it."
"You're naive for a dragon." Groaning, Zach straightened in his seat and stretched his arms in front of him. "You're so caught up in all the criticism from the humans that you don't even realize how much of a favor Ms. Banderly did you."
"Oh, so now I'm…favor?" Jake's eyes narrowed. "What favor?"
"Those impossible questions she asked? They're what everyone actually cared about hearing, not your childhood Christmas pageants. If she stuck to those softball topics, it would have felt like a scam. All anyone would see would be the same rehearsed speech with a different coat of pain. Instead she treated you just like the rest of her stories, like an equal - and she still went pretty easy on you. You talked about your hopes and fears. You were vulnerable. People got to see you as a person - a sappy, idealistic person, but a person all the same.
"Still," sighed Zach, shifting to recline as best he could in the stiff chair with his feet on the table, "you can't change people's gut instincts. It's true, most of the humans didn't like it. But those outraged and negative reactions were because they wanted to be outraged and negative. Their minds were made up before the broadcast ever started. Even the best interview can't change that. Humans will be humans."
Analysis complete, his flat stare drifted to the ceiling. His aloofness felt so jarring to Jake, but also weirdly…refreshing? Like it was almost meditative, watching him sit there calmly. Jake was suddenly envious of that clarity. Maybe that was just the emotional toll of a week of constant dramatic events.
"Didn't know you were so talkative," said Jake, curbing the edge in his tone from earlier. "And it sounds like you don't like humans too much. Didn't know that either."
"My opinions aren't good or bad," he answered to the ceiling. "They just are, and so are we. Humans, micks-"
"Dude, don't call us that!"
"Words, too. They're just that." Zach looked back to Jake. "Which one upsets you, the word or the meaning?"
A headache was rising that was normally reserved for Lao Shi. "Let me guess, you're a philosophy major too?"
"Art."
Right, poker chess.
"And what's your opinion about Merida," said Jake. "I know being open is important to her, but is that really worth making herself a target? What if the People or someone else finally snaps and goes after her?"
Zach folded his drooping sleeves. His face was passive as ever, but for once his eyes seemed alive, focused, giving the impression of true contemplation. "I don't think I'm allowed to have an opinion."
"Why not?"
"It's harder for her and Edith," he said. "You, me, Wal, we look just like humans - as long as you don't make Wal mad, that is. Most of the time we get to be ourselves. Meanwhile, Merida has to wear her goofy clothes and Edith is literally a fish out of water. Being free means more to them. Who are we to tell them what to do?"
"Uh, their magical guardian? That's, like, my entire job. And hold up, you're telling me," said Jake, waving a finger in Zach's direction, "that all those clothes aren't hiding anything? I always figured that's why you always dressed so…warm."
"What?" Zach sat up and glanced at the waving clothes draped over him. The slight hitch in his voice was by far the most emotion Jake had ever seen from him. "They're comfy, okay?"
Jake smiled. Then, a rapid squeaking sound nipped at his attention, quickly growing louder. He turned, curious, just in time to see Wal wheel around the corner, wide-eyed and panting.
Jake was on his feet. "Wal? What is it?"
"Merida and Edith!" Sweat dripped down his panicked expression. Were his pupils growing larger? "I was out front, at the machine, and I saw them! They're outside, but," he panted again, "I think they need our help!"
From Jake's point of view, Wal had the rolls reversed.
"We're both students just like everyone else, and we deserve to be able to study! Or do all of you just like ganging up on innocent people? Huh? Is everyone getting off on this as much as they hoped? Well it better be worth it, 'cause I'm about to kick every single one of your degenerate, ignorant-!"
"Edith, stop!"
Here atop the library steps, the three of them had an excellent perch from which to watch Merida hold back Edith's wheelchair in a tug of war. The mermaid in disguise fought to push forward with one hand, the other groping for the nearest throat to crush. There were many to choose from - dozens of students stood in front of the library with signs and posters in hand. It only took a quick skim over the hastily written words and slogans for Jake to see what was happening.
Another anti-magic demonstration. It was just like when he'd flown here for a photo-op, only that single outspoken student had apparently found sympathizers.
And all of them now withered before Edith's tirade.
"You're fine, go in! Please!" one of those near the front of the group begged.
"Yeah!" agreed another beside her. "We're only here protesting micks! It's not fair that-"
"Fair? Fair?!" railed Edith, wavy hair flowing with her fury. "I'm stuck in a goddamn chair, watching a bunch of pathetic losers insult the nicest person on the face of this miserable planet, and you morons are really gonna tell me what's fair?!"
Some in the group shared hushed comments. None spoke up, but they didn't move either.
Jake breathed, "Aw man."
"She's pissed," noted Zach.
Wal craned his head closer to them and whispered, "What do we do? Protests are supposed to be peaceful; they can't actually stop Merida from coming inside! That has to be against some kind of rule!"
"Go enforce it if you want."
"Don't joke about that, Zach, you know I can't."
"Well I don't see any campus police around."
"No…but…"
Together they looked to Jake.
"No way." He jerked a thumb at the students around them. Every second that passed, more bystanders collected on the stairs and the sidewalk below, engrossed in the unfolding drama with phones held up recording. "The Am-Drag can't be seen here right now, and there's way too many witnesses for me to change anyway."
"What? You're kidding me!"
They turned back to Edith's voice. She was still clearly furious, even with Merida's face inches from her own as the satyress squatted beside her chair. Her words were impossible to hear from this distance, but if they were meant to calm Edith then they failed.
"I'm not going in without you!" shouted the mermaid, pounding a fist over the blanket covering her lower half. "They can't…"
Merida laid her hand over Edith's. She spoke to her friend some more, voice small and personal, but really Jake didn't need to hear her words. That peaceful smile said it all.
"Fine! If it'll make you happy." Edith turned her chair with a snap, pushing toward the ramp beside the stairs. "And I hope you're all proud!" she barked at the crowd. "Congratulations! You sycophants managed to beat a pacifist and a cripple! Great job, high-fives for everyone!"
Merida waved her off, as carefree as a parting after brunch. "Have fun! We'll catch up later!"
The two separated, dissipating both the crowd and the tension. Onlookers were back to heading wherever they were headed, stowing phones and grumbling about time wasted. Jake shared none of their disappointment. He let himself relax and heard a similar sigh of relief from Wal. They'd dodged a bullet. Had things escalated, he wasn't sure what he would have-
"Good riddance, and don't come back!"
Jake looked up. Merida had stopped, back turned to the jeer.
"All or none, you freak!"
"Yeah, this isn't a petting zoo!"
"Go stink up a barn where you belong!"
"…rraaaaAAAAAHH!"
Hands flying over her wheel rails, Edith peeled back down the ramp on a ferocious collision course with the picketers.
Wind rushed by Jake's ear.
By the time those heckling saw her, Edith was mere feet away. Suddenly she threw on her brake and rocketed forward from the chair. The blanket fell away and her arms were bared, neon pink and green nails eager to strike.
Instead of catching her prey, however, she herself was caught in Wal's overpowering embrace.
"What? But…" Jake glanced to the side and indeed found only Zach, who himself seemed unsurprised. The stairs were around twenty steps up, maybe thirty, and the other end of the crowd at least fifty feet away. Looking now Jake could see where several people in the center had stumbled to the ground, recreating the straight line of Wal's sprint. But still, to clear that much distance so quickly…
"Wal! Let me go!" Edith struggled in the boy's encircling hold, contained entirely yet squirming all the same. "Put me down, damnit! Put! Me! DOWN!"
Wal ignored her. He stood there hunched over her, bony back rising and falling for the crowd he'd bulldozed through. Luckily, they had yet to react to him. Even those climbing back to their feet made no complaints. All attention was paid to Edith, specifically the flapping tail of brilliant teal scales.
The powerful appendage smacked against Wal's legs while Edith pounded her fists over his back. "Stop getting in the way you big idiot! You're making a mistake! Just butt out!"
Rumblings from the crowd were growing louder.
"Look at her tail! She's a mermaid!"
"She's a mick too! How many are there?!"
"I thought she said she was crippled!"
One of their number stepped toward Wal. "Let go of her man! You don't know what she's capable of! You might get…get…"
He jumped back a step, along with everyone else, as Wal turned around. Their reaction made sense when Jake saw Wal's disfigured face.
"Please stop."
Zach hummed, "There he goes."
Pearly teeth had found sharp edges. Bristling black fur was sprouting over his skin, including the face that was slowly being dragged into a snout. The hunched posture that Jake had taken as protective was really the boy's skeleton bending and stretching. His ears were elongating, and his nails had a savage curve. Despite all the differences, it was clear to Jake that his transformation had barely begun. The changes were relatively minor but enough to earn the lycanthrope a wide berth from their aggressors. To them he must have seemed like a nightmare from a horror film, bloodthirsty and filled with murderous intent.
It proved they knew nothing of the creature. Even an amateur could see that Wal was close to tears.
"Please stop," he repeated. His voice was strangled, tight with emotion and forced into a growl by his shifting jaw. Gleaming fangs poked out as he attempted a quivering smile. "We don't want to fight. We're nice. We'll go, okay? Just leave us alone." He nodded. "We'll go."
Zach climbed down the stairs at a comfortable pace. Jake reached after him half-heartedly, paused, and let his arm fall.
Below, Merida had returned and now wrapped Wal in a hug of her own. She couldn't reach all the way around him, and he couldn't respond given how Edith still occupied his arms. The mermaid had ceased her raging struggle, however, so Wal lowered her down and helped balance her on her tail. The way her fin bent on the ground looked painful but she stood well enough while holding Wal's arm.
Zach finished sifting his way through the cowering crowd. He slunk over to where the wheelchair had been abandoned on its side, righted it, and guided it to the others. As he held it steady for Edith to sit, his strikingly green eyes focused squarely on Jake.
"Oh yeah." Zach waved a hand behind him. From nothing appeared a sudden spiral of wind that kicked Edith's blanket up from the ground. The garment drifted over to land in Zach's hands. "I'm a sylph," he announced, handing the blanket to Edith. "Be mad about it if you want. Or don't."
The crowd didn't answer. They simply watched the four oddities share an unspoken moment and leave the library behind.
The group earned more dumbfounded looks from passersby as they walked away. Jake stared after them. He watched Wal, who was still gradually transforming, push Edith's wheelchair despite the mermaid's loud complaints. He watched Merida find her usual skip as she helped her lycanthrope friend out of his shrinking jacket and shirt. And he watched Zach follow wordlessly alongside them, eyes forward and hands in his pockets.
Jake knew them, and then they were gone.
"So yeah." Jake took a bite of his greasy burrito and stared into space, back and butt sore from sitting on concrete. He grumbled between chews, "The whole country's turning against us, Nerk's still a mindless zombie, my best friends can't stand me, and the other magical students are exposed." He wiped his face on his sleeve, crumbs and sauce smearing on the fabric. "And this burrito sucks. You want the rest, Phil?"
The large bundle of rags to his side said nothing.
Jake shrugged and took another bite.
A sigh came from across the room. "You just said you didn't like it."
"Yeah, that's kind of a theme lately. How about you?" asked Jake, holding the leaking mess of beans and tortilla out toward the wizard.
Through the chain-link fence that still constituted the DMC's makeshift cell, Pandarus grimaced at the offering. The man was holding up well despite being incarcerated for weeks. Stoic, suit scuffed but himself curiously well kempt. Of course, the comforts in his cell helped. The small space of pipes and chipping paint now included a cot with plush sheets and pillows, a folding table and chair made into a basic desk, a standing lamp, a cheap dresser, and a cracked mirror taped to the wall. The concessions had been piecemeal, asked for and granted one by one until the room now rivaled a lower end apartment.
The irony wasn't lost on Jake. His prisoner was living better than him, and that was including the Crest.
"Well aren't you melodramatic today? If this is some new interrogation method," said Pandarus, "it's working. Third best so far, I think. Not quite as effective as making all my socks soggy, or that playlist of 90's pop hits covered by children. Now that was cruel."
"No torture," said Jake. "Not for you, at least. Just don't have anything better to do, and you still won't give us anything about the People, so here we are."
Pandarus pushed himself up from the cot and moved to his desk, the chair's scuffed legs bouncing as he slid it out. "At the risk of sounding like a very, very broken record, perhaps it's because I have nothing to give." Several books were stacked on the desk, of which he grabbed the top one and flipped through its pages. "And since you're still barking up this least promising of all trees, I'd hazard a guess that these last two attacks have given the Dragon Order no new leads."
"Pretty much."
The wizard settled into his chair to read. "Shame."
They sat there in silence for a while, Pandarus with his book and Jake idly holding the food he'd grabbed from a crappy food truck across town. Even if his appetite existed, he had no intention of eating it. The thing was disappointing to begin with and had long since grown cold.
Phil shifted in his overflowing rags. "I'm going back to the gate."
The cyclops lumbered outside and jerked the door closed.
"Oh," hummed Jake to no one, "sure."
More time passed. Jake was content to mope in this empty quiet, pondering the branching cracks in the ceiling. It was certainly better than his other options: going back out to the DMC lobby where magical creatures multiplied with complaints against humans, or returning to his office and the countless reminders therein of the reporters hounding him doubly and the piling cases he couldn't complete.
"Is there…something you're expecting?"
The wizard was watching Jake with an uncomfortable expression, finger holding his place in the closed book.
"Me?" Jake shook his head. "Nah, not really. But if you have any ideas about why I'm such a screw up, I'm all ears."
Pandarus sighed and rubbed the side of his head. Jake thought he heard a haggard 'teenagers' somewhere in his mutterings. "What about Secretary Carson?" he offered. "I thought handling all of your hormonal perturbations was her job."
"You know," he pulled his phone from his pocket, "that's not a bad idea. We haven't talked since the People attacked a week ago." It only took a few taps on the screen for the phone to start dialing her number. "Then again, she wasn't too stoked the last time I used her for dumping baggage."
The call rang through to the answering machine. Jake lowered the phone from his ear. "Weird, she didn't pick up."
"Naturally," lamented his captive.
He tried again - same thing, straight to the machine. It was the first time the detective hadn't answered on the first try, including when Jake had first recruited her as his liaison to the president. A glance at the time, however, calmed his worries. "Oh, duh. They're three hours ahead. She's probably out for the night."
The wizard slouched, his brief hope swiftly killed.
"How about this," he began. "Rather than pout, why not focus on what's gone well? The other students are alive and healthy, for starters. No one was injured and everything ended peacefully! I'm willing to bet that the university will rally behind them and you'll all finish the semester with all this awful business far behind you."
"Maybe. Wal has to miss a week of classes, though - it takes that long for him to change back. It sucks because there's nothing wrong with him, except for not really being able to talk. He's still the same goof on the inside. It's just…not a good idea walking around campus full on werewolf right now." There was a pause and Jake noticed Pandarus's puzzled look. "Oh, Merida told me all that. The guys left their bags at the library, so I dropped them off at her dorm.
"I didn't see the others, though." Jake closed the wrapper around his food. "Probably for the best."
"I see." Pandarus tapped the book in his lap, still watching Jake. Then he tossed it aside. "Forgive me, Jake, but I have to ask - what's really the point of all this?"
Jake shrugged. "Eating the guilt away?"
"Oh for heaven's - the cage my boy." He waved at the flimsy fence. "This whole charade has gone on long enough, wouldn't you say? I've been very accommodating, the perfect prisoner, and to your credit you've made my stay…uh," he grimaced at the cot, "…hospitable. But you wouldn't be so lenient if you truly thought me responsible for the People's actions. So tell me - the imprisonment, the interrogations, the cyclops guard, even siccing dear Rose on me - what's the point of it all?"
"What, you itching to get back to the nine-to-five that bad?"
"Of course not, that's what underlings are for. And from what I hear they're doing just fine." Pandarus stood from his humble desk and approached the fence. He wrapped his fingers between the links, toying with the thin metal. "This has actually been something of a nice change of pace. I've caught up on a good deal of reading, as you can see, and my apprentice keeps me apprised of business matters when he visits. But even vacations must eventually come to an end. My word," he muttered. His fingers managed to bend the wiry links with ease. "It's worse than I thought. Just how frail do you think I am?"
Jake nodded to the widened hole in the fence. "What about you? Even without the wands we confiscated, we both know you could've escaped whenever you wanted. Why stick around this long?"
"Who knows?" he snickered. "Hopefully it's to maintain my reputation with the public. Maybe it's to make the eventual vindication all the sweeter. Maybe I just enjoy the novelty of it all. Or perhaps I'm simply trying not to undermine you, my dear investment. After all, if your authority and confidence are threatened then what good are the favors you still owe me?"
Something changed in the air, like a veil lifted from Jake's eyes. The room suddenly felt much smaller. All the multilayered plots and schemes that he'd tried to anticipate from the man were falling away, one by one, as an infuriatingly simple realization came to him. "You're being…nice to me?"
Pandarus folded his arms. "You're missing a great deal of nuance, here."
Jake tried to laugh. He wanted to howl and whoop until his lungs burst, he really did. All he managed, though, was a simpering little chuckle with his head back against the wall. "This is so messed up. Of all the people in the world, the one doing the most to help me right now is Eli flippin' Pandarus. G would get a kick outta that."
"I can assure you, my actions are for nothing but personal gain. The thought of helping you never - oh? And just where are you going all of a sudden?"
The aching in Jake's legs burned anew as he stood. "Well, I was going to call my gramps but this place just won't cut me any slack." He flashed his phone's screen at the wizard. "No bars. Be back in a bit."
"If you came back with a key, or maybe my wands, I wouldn't be all that upset!"
Jake closed the utility room and walked through the dull office hallway. His eyes were on the corner of his phone's screen and the blank icon still occupying it. There wasn't a specific reason for calling his dragon master. There was a faint hope the Council might have learned something new, and to see if he had any advice about whether to release Pandarus, but really Jake just wanted to talk. But come to think of it, it would be late in Chicago, too. Jake would earn an earful for waking the man, but he also knew Lao Shi had a habit of drinking tea long into the night. How predictable - even something as simple as calling his family felt fraught with danger.
He turned the corner in the hall and bumped into a man.
"Oh! My b-"
Inches from his face hung the barrel of a pistol, it's wielder clad in dark clothes and a black mask.
Jake whipped his hand up. The wrapper of leftovers smacked the gun aside just as it fired. Something whizzed by Jake's face, but he focused on his attacker and hurled his greasy weapon directly at his head. It exploded, spraying beans and cheese over the man's mask and front.
"DRAGON UP!"
The man was still blinded by the dripping mess when Jake heaved a brawny fist into his gut, the sheer force lifting him off his feet and tumbling back to the floor. It was doubtful that he would recover any time soon, the way he curled into a gasping heap, but Jake wasn't taking chances. He grabbed the man by his black coat and hurled him into the wall behind. Dust and chipped paint followed him to the floor, and this time he fell still.
Jake's heart pounded. Panting, he approached the assailant - still breathing, that was good. He'd briefly worried he'd gone too far when he saw the deep crater the man's body had made in the wall. And just above the crater, he saw the projectile that had narrowly missed him.
It was a dart - a narrow cylinder with a sharp needle in front and pink plumage behind.
"Everybody be quiet! I said quiet! Do you want us to shoot you too?"
The sound perked Jake's ears. It was faint, coming from somewhere near the front of the building, probably the lobby. He didn't recognize the rumbling voice, and the hushed threats it barked - there had to be more of them, more assailants like the one beneath him. And it was so quiet, too quiet! Damn! He was such an idiot. He should have realized it the second he left Pandarus's jail.
Underdown was being invaded.
But how? How did they know where it was, how to get in?
No - questions could come later. There wasn't time. A room full of magical creatures was in danger, maybe all of Underdown, or even worse…
Jake's phone lay on the ground a couple feet away. He snatched it up and fiddled with it - working the device with chopsticks would have been more productive than using his claws. It hardly mattered, however. The icon for his connection still showed an empty, blinking box.
He needed two things: information and backup. If calling outside wasn't an option, then he'd have to make do with what he had on hand.
Pandarus was still playing with the fence when Jake returned. "I wasn't trying to escape!" he said hurriedly, backing away from the barrier. His gaze turned suspicious. "Please tell me your next idea for torture isn't reptilian body odor?"
Jake answered by ripping the fence apart like tissue paper. "The People are attacking. You're gonna help me crush 'em."
"Ah." The wizard tapped his chin a few times, calculating. Then he shrugged. "Alright, but I'll need a wand or two if you want me to provide more than moral support."
"Deal." Jake waved him into the hallway. "I gave 'em to Fu for safekeeping. Find him and we find your toys."
Together they crept back to the end of the hall. Pandarus didn't ask about the man crumpled on the floor, which, to be fair, was probably self-explanatory. Instead they moved further into the heart of the DMC. The unfamiliar voices were growing louder, still snapping in short, lethal bursts, but they reached Margret's desk without meeting more of the masked men. Unfortunately, they also failed to meet Jake's secretary.
"Marge?" Jake peeked over the cluttered desk, searching the tiny workspace for the ancient gnome. He whispered again, "Yo, Marge!"
A hand brushed Jake's shoulder. Pandarus nodded to the hall behind them with an urgent look. Jake's office waited ahead, and a streak of fluorescent light sliced through the hall from its open door.
They hurried toward the light. Pausing just before the verge, Jake could hear two voices arguing.
"He was supposed to be here!"
"Look, this is definitely his office. He can't be that far."
"You, lady." There was the sound of clutter shifting, then a small whimper. "Tell us where the American Dragon is or else."
Jake heard silence, punctuated by short, rapid breaths, like a mouse cornered. His claws balled into fists.
"She's not gonna say." Something flew and smacked a wall. "If you hadn't panicked and shot the dog, maybe we-"
Jake jumped into the doorway and launched forward. Only a few things were apparent in the fractions of a second it took for him to lunge. To the left were the three mirrors, still standing with a gray mass balled beneath them. Two men were in the room, one behind his desk and the other against the right wall standing over Jake's improvised bed. Both matched the assailant outside, covered entirely in dark clothes with black sock-like masks obscuring their faces. The man on the right was reeling backward, his arm barring Margret against his chest. That would have to wait, however. His trajectory was already set for the man in the back, who was absorbed in the forest of papers and notes coating Jake's desk.
He was absorbed in the documents right until Jake slammed him to the ground.
Jake landed with his arm pinned over the man's chest, his elbow digging in and earning a few cracks. Wind rushed from the man and he choked for air, but he was still collected enough to reach for the gun on his hip.
Jake's claws snapped out and caught his wrist. Their strengths competed for the limb, though it was a feeble bout. The man's hand quivered as it was bent and twisted around to point at his stomach. Then Jake slipped a claw into the trigger and pulled.
Rather than a BANG, the gun popped. The man squirmed and gagged, caught between still fighting for breath and crying out at the decorative dart stuck in his abs.
"Let him go!"
Jake kept his prey pressed to the ground. Slowly, he raised his head and looked behind. The second man had moved in front of the door, one arm still snaring Margret and the other aiming a gun at Jake.
"Get up! Show me your hands!" When Jake didn't move, he squeezed Margret closer. The gnome gasped. Her hand grabbed weakly at the arm around her throat. "Do it or I hurt her! Now!"
Seeing Margret like that…the anger Jake felt was difficult to quantify. He let up on the man below him, whose only reaction was a low moan. Then Jake raised his paws, got to his feet, and fully turned to face him.
He glared at the man, fangs bared and claws tense. Heat tickled at the back of this throat. Indistinguishable from the others, Jake saw the same man that had dragged the soul from Fred's body, the same one that had driven the Indian and Spanish Dragons insane. The red tint of his enhanced vision flared deeper, painting the room a deep scarlet. Dozens of terrible, vengeful thoughts raged in his mind, kept at bay only by the small gnome in his way. All the tragedy, all the pain of the past months was because of him. It was all his fault.
Jake hated him.
His opponent took aim, then flailed in pain.
Margret fell as he reached over and behind his back. He twisted around, and between his shoulder blades swung a dart firmly stuck in the muscle. So distracted by the pain was the man that he barely registered the wizard before him. This worked to Pandarus's favor, giving him ample time to rear back and slug the man across the jaw. The force worked with the man's twisting and flung him spiraling to the floor.
The anger dissipated, his vision clearing. Jake blinked back to his senses. He returned to himself, remembering the gnome on the floor and vaulting back over the desk. "Marge! You okay?"
"Yes, Mr. Dragon." His secretary was trembling, but she answered in her usual monotone. "I'm sorry your office is a mess."
"Same as always, no sweat. And Pandarus, dude," he appraised the wizard as he massaged his fist, "that was a sick right hook!"
"Brute force doesn't suit me," he winced. "But I'm glad I grabbed that dart from the hall. You never know when you'll need a sedative." He glanced to the side and, slowly, his rubbing stopped. "Oh dear…"
Jake mimicked him, and his heart fell through his stomach. The familiar mass lying before the mirrors was canine, curled up and still.
"Fu…FU!" Jake lurched next to his magical guardian and cradled him. He wasn't responding, but there weren't any injuries, no blood that he could see. Jake pressed an ear to his fur and waited, seconds passing like hours.
…lub…dub…
"He's alive! But what…there!" Buried deep in the wrinkles of Fu's neck was another of the darts. Jake plucked it from the Shar Pei's fur and tossed it aside. Fu didn't react. "I don't like this. His heart's slow, and he's barely breathing."
"If the tranquilizers are meant to subdue a dragon," said Pandarus, "then their effect could be lethal on a creature his size."
Jaw tight, Jake stood and tapped a claw on all three standing mirrors.
Pandarus watched the splashes of color blooming on their surfaces. "He needs a doctor, Jake, or a veterinarian I suppose. If this is serious, he may not have long."
"I know." Jake watched the mirror framed in carved wood closest, hoping desperately that, tonight of all nights, bad habits held true.
Colors filled the frame, swirling and writhing before finally coalescing into Lao Shi's shop. The man himself sat atop his stool with a book in front of him and a steaming cup off to the side. Noticing the mirror activating, however, he perked up and turned to the mirror. "Jake? What are you doing up at this-?"
"We're under attack, G. I don't have time to explain, but Fu got hit with some kind of knockout drug and he's not lookin' good." Jake picked up Fu and held his limp body in front of the mirror. "We're stuck here and you're the only one who can help. Get ready."
His grandfather sprung seamlessly into his dragon form, the stool clamoring behind to the floor. "Wait, Jake! Let me come through! I can help repel this attack!"
"Can't, gramps. Fu comes first. Help him, then you go to your DMC and shut it down." Jake fixed his grandfather with what he hoped was a look of absolute determination. "I'm fine. You just focus on the Midwest. Lock down everything, you got that?"
Lao Shi's mouth closed. The whites of his eyes engulfed their emerald centers, yearning for unspoken arguments. He raised his arms before the mirror.
Jake nodded. He held Fu's body against the glass and tapped a claw on the mirror three times. It lit with a faint white glow. It grew brighter, building up and outlining Fu in a brilliant streak. Then there was a subtle flash, like when the mirrors first activated, and Fu was gone.
In the reflection, Lao Shi now held the Shar Pei. His eyes snapped up. "Jake-"
The mirror shattered. Cracks splayed out from the center in a web, as if struck by a fist. Both light and picture blinked out of existence. It was back to a normal mirror, showing only a fractured reflection of Jake's office.
"A shame," said Pandarus. "Seems a waste of a good mirror."
"That's their job." Jake turned back to help Margret to her feet and guided her toward the peeling green mirror. The wizard was right. Despite the good it did, sacrificing the mirrors like this truly made his chest ache. It was an ability that, useful and final as it was, Jake had never anticipated actually using. His dragon master's foresight was proven once again.
The two remaining mirrors were active but only showed dark, empty rooms. Jake expected as much. Knowing his grandfather was safe eased him; he'd just have to hope the others were as well. He pressed the gnome's hand over the third mirror. "Marge, I need you to find my cousin, the Tampa Dragon, and his dragon master. Tell them what happened, and tell them to bunker down at their DMC. And if he argues, tell his dragon master that's an order from me, clear?"
"Yes, Mr. Dragon."
"And Marge? I'm really sorry. You'll see what I mean."
Jake tapped thrice on the mirror. The light appeared, enveloped his secretary, and blinked her into the reflection. Then the magics involved shattered this mirror too.
"American Dragon!"
The voice startled Jake, tricking him into scanning the office before realizing it had come from the intercom system.
It returned, steely voice crackling through the speakers throughout the building, "We know you're here. Come to the lobby and surrender. We have hostages."
He turned to the wizard. "Pandarus-"
"I know." His prisoner stepped up to the second mirror with the black trim. "You want me to find the Manhattan Dragon I presume?"
"She's my sister. Here." Jake tapped in the code to unlock his phone, still held in his paw. He handed the device to Pandarus. "Call her when you get there and tell her everything. Do that and you're a free man."
He put his hand on the mirror. Then, with a loathing expression, let it fall. "Don't be an idiot," he huffed. "Eager as I am to be free, you're the one they want. If you leave, it stands to reason they will too!"
Jake shook his head. "I've still got unfinished business with these guys. And if you're wrong, you and everyone else will be a sitting duck."
"And your plan?"
"You know me. The Am-Drag's more of an improviser."
"Jake-"
"Go."
The billionaire frowned. Holding their shared look, he returned his hand to the glass. "Don't go getting yourself killed. I still need those favors."
Three taps and the Wizard of Wall Street was gone, and with him the last of the mirrors.
Jake was alone. The mirrors were ruined, his office was in shambles, all just for the two bodies lying unconscious in the mess. Even accomplishing this much left him tired. Yet just outside, dozens, maybe hundreds of magical creatures were still in danger, and Jake still had no idea how many other attackers there were or what they were capable of. Beating them would be tough; it might not happen at all.
But he'd already lost too much. The thought of another creature suffering over him was unacceptable. The only thing he knew for certain was what they wanted.
As his dragon master was fond of saying, victory was sometimes found through defeat.
There were four…no, five more in the lobby. He'd almost missed the one sitting by the entrance, weapon on the floor and nursing some injury to his arm. The others stood in a line further in, corralling a crowd of magical creatures with guns in hand. This left an open area in front of the entrance, which was largely occupied by Phil's impressive body. The cyclops lay there unmoving, his cloak of rags abandoned and his skin peppered with darts.
The sight turned Jake's stomach - but it couldn't be helped. He quietly wished for the creature's wellbeing and stumbled out into the lobby.
The man on the ground noticed him first. "Hey," he pointed. "HEY! Dragon! The Dragon!"
His call roused the others, spinning around and setting Jake in sight of their pistols. Instead of shooting, however, they hesitated.
"Let them go." Jake's breaths were heavy and labored. He took another step into the lobby, only to slump on hands and knees. "Take me," he panted, head drooping. "Don't hurt…take me…me…"
He collapsed, the darts in his shoulder and flank sticking firm. His eyes closed.
A moment of quiet passed. There was the sound of shuffling steps, slow and uncertain.
"Is…is he out?"
"Two tranquilizers, see? That has to be enough."
The steps grew closer. Something tapped Jake's belly, a boot if he had to guess. Another shoved him in the back, then another poked his scalp. They were probing him, checking to see if the sedative had really taken hold.
Jake learned what a pain it was to fake a coma.
"He's out, alright," chuckled one of the men.
"What now?" asked another. "Weren't we supposed to grab him in his human form?"
"Don't bother asking, you know he won't answer. They'll figure it out, c'mon." Someone grabbed a hold of his leg - how Jake resisted twitching at that was a miracle. "Drag him out front, cavalry's supposed to be here any minute."
"Shouldn't we go find the others? They could be hurt-"
"Deal with the dragon first. We'll get them later."
Feet and clothes shuffled around him. They were buying Jake's defenseless act, and they hadn't shot him full of tranquilizers either. It was a good thing, then, that he'd stuck himself with the two already spent on the men in his office. The trick was far from sanitary - Jake just hoped whatever messed up psychosis the nutjobs had wasn't contagious.
His body rose from the ground, belly up. Each of the attackers carried him by a limb, his limp wings dragging on the ground. Together they moved toward the door, Jake swinging in those grips too busy to hold weapons. Perfect.
He filled his lungs, opened his eyes, and erupted like a volcano.
The two below dropped his legs in surprise, and the two with his arms attempted the same. Jake snatched their limbs in his claws, however, and with his weight dragged the two men into a head-on smash. Then he let go, planted his paws on the ground, and spun his waist around, sweeping out the legs of those below with his tail. He ended the trick on all fours and pounced, grabbing both by their fronts and hurling them into the wall by their injured comrade.
The man froze. He glanced at Jake, at his pistol on the ground out of reach, then back at Jake. He raised his hands.
Smoke leaked from Jake's mouth. "Smart move."
"Now it's your turn."
A chill ran down his spine - the same voice from the intercom. Jake spun and found a sixth man by the crowd of magical creatures, sighting them with a rifle in his hands. He leaned against a service counter. It would have been just out of sight when Jake made his entrance.
"These aren't tranquilizers," he said, detached. His finger clicked over a switch. "Safety's off. Take your human form. I won't ask twice."
This man was different. He felt more real, more dangerous than the gun in his hands. Instead of a thrown-together outfit of winter clothes, he wore a vest covered in pockets, heavy cargo pants, and tight liners covering the rest of his skin, all as black as his mask. His hands held the weapon steady like they'd used it a thousand times and would do so again with ease.
Jake's chi shivered. "Who are you?"
He turned to the crowd and braced the rifle against his shoulder, taking aim.
"DON'T!" yelled Jake. "Stop! Don't shoot! I'll do it!"
He pulled in the warmth, and his chi briefly resisted, like it was fighting to stay buried in his skin and muscles. The rebellion was short-lived, however. His chi soon withdrew, and Jake's form was engulfed in flames. All that remained when they dispersed was his small human body.
The injured man grunted, "What?" He pushed himself to his feet. "But…you're just a kid."
The one in the vest lowered his rifle. "Thank you."
His hand moved to his hip. Something stabbed Jake in the stomach.
He looked down, hand moving to the spot. A dart stuck out of his red jacket. The needle-like tip penetrated just to the side of his navel, the sting flaring as he tensed from the pain.
"Touch it and you'll get another." The man slung his rifle over his shoulder, a strap securing it around his torso. He stepped around Phil's body with the pistol still trained on Jake. "Sit before you fall."
"Sit?" With his blood pumping like this? Rest was the last thing on Jake's mind. His knees disagreed, however, Jake stumbling as they suddenly buckled. He was back to kneeling, one hand holding his swimming head and the other bracing against the vertigo. Had he almost passed out? So light…his head felt so light…
"You, carry him. We're leaving."
People were moving around him - the thugs he'd knocked down, they were starting to rouse. Jake tried to react, but only succeeded in slumping over on his side. His body was magnitudes heavier than normal and his limbs wouldn't listen. It was like his wiring was all backwards. Somehow, he managed to find the dart in his stomach and pulled it free, the sting bringing a flash of clarity, but it receded just as quickly. He felt so weak, so tired.
The biggest of the four threw Jake over his shoulder and carried him out of the DMC like a duffel bag. None of the creatures inside tried to intervene. That was good. At least no one else would get hurt like Phil. It was a small comfort as Jake swung helplessly, barely conscious of anything but the cobbled ground passing below.
Nothingness took hold for a while. It was hard to know how much time had passed when something hard and cold jabbed into Jake's back, stirring him. It was a railing, one of the guard rails that rimmed the tiers of Underdown. His captors had set him down for a moment, but Jake could do nothing with the opportunity. He slumped there, catatonic, head tilted back and staring at the shadowed dome far above. Water still flowed in the cavern's rushing torrents, but the lanterns were extinguished and the televisions lifeless, a skeletal cocoon of dark screens.
The ground trembled. Dust shook from the ceiling.
Points of light flashed on the ceiling high above, small dots that chased each other in a wide circle while the air cracked and popped. More shaking and raining debris followed. The lanterns and screens rocked in the middle of the cavern.
Suddenly, the sky was falling.
All in one piece the chandelier fell, catapulting deep into Underdown's pit. The mass rushed past Jake's tier and churned the air into a whirlwind, like a building caught up in a hurricane, and with it fell a mountain of earth and stone. A smokescreen of dirt billowed and clouded the air, but through it Jake could see a rough circle of open air above. The roof had been blown free. The bleak atrium was transformed into a window of the night sky, and directly in its center floated an impossibly radiant moon.
Jake marveled at the awesome sight.
Something dragged him away, his head drooping to the side. The rays of moonlight streaming in from above engrossed him, outlined in the drifting dust, as solid as if he could grab them. He tried. His hands wouldn't move, but the moon heard him. It was coming closer. The orb grew larger, so bright it burned Jake's eyes. Its descent churned the air around them into a gale.
Whatever was dragging him stopped. A commotion was rising, people shouting, bodies bustling with urgency. Jake couldn't make sense of the yelling, but he could see flashes of light. Yellows, greens, and reds all zipped around them. Some men were reaching for weapons while others pointed to the hovering moon and its whirling blades.
A hand pressed Jake back against the railing. "We can't wait!"
"But what about tomorrow-"
"No time!"
Hard metal latched onto Jake's chest, cold even through his shirt and jacket. All he felt was a pinch. Then it trembled and hummed to life and in an instant Jake's throat ached, burning like he'd swallowed gasoline. But why? The metal only touched his chest, and there was nothing in his mouth. So what was this fire in his neck? Why couldn't he breathe?
The agony woke him. Jake was screaming.
Unseen hands were gouging open his chest. They snapped his ribs free, crushed the air from his lungs, shredded his heart into mangled pieces. His back arched on the ground. He should have passed out from this kind of torment, but instead it sharpened his senses to every excruciating detail. It was unbearable. Drowning, fire, suffocation, anything that could deliver him from this hell would be better.
A purple glow refracted in his tears. Jake fought the spasms wracking his spine to look down, seeing clearly the metal clamp attached to his chest and the transparent tubing connecting it to a larger contraption. The tube radiated with a purple energy as fog flowed through it, collecting in the machine's glass chamber. And as he lay there engrossed yet horrified, a new pain struck. The device was ripping him inside-out.
In the tube appeared a black hole the size of a golf ball, a singularity of concentrated nothing. Jake watched it drift away, his own grip on reality finally slipping.
The ground shook. Debris was flying, some clanking against the machine, some hitting Jake. It didn't hurt, and neither did the magic zipping around or the electricity brimming along the tubing. Masked men were panicking around the device, but it didn't matter. None of it hurt Jake. Nothing could, not anymore.
An explosion erupted before him. It blew the floor away and threw Jake back, over and beyond the railing. He fell, on and on, captured by the dark and empty void.
O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O
