Magic Triumphs (Kate Daniels 10)

“Yu Fong?” I asked, the amethyst cold in my hand.

“Yes . . .” a clear male voice answered.

“This is Kate Lennart. You’re in a coma in my house. You’re safe.”

“I’m aware of my surroundings,” he said.

Okay then. “Is there anything we can do to help you?”

“The healing I require is beyond the capabilities of a human. Ask your questions. You’re wasting time.”

The candle was melting before my eyes. He was right. I had to get to the point. “Tell me about the dragon who attacked you.”

“He’s insane. We are an old species. There are traditions. Rules of conduct. One doesn’t just blindly attack another dragon without provocation.”

“How large was he?” Saiman asked.

“I’ve never seen one that large. Even my oldest brother can’t match him.”

“How can we kill him?” I asked.

“How much do you know about the dragon realms?” Yu Fong asked.

“A dragon realm is a pocket in reality,” Saiman said. “A fold in the fabric of space, where time and physical constraints have different meaning. Frequently, it is hidden in a place that one has to enter: a cave, a palace, a gorge, somewhere two separate spaces meet and a boundary exists between the two.”

Look at Saiman go. “A place one can’t enter except by invitation from the dragon,” I added. “As long as a visitor doesn’t consume anything, the dragon won’t be able to injure them.”

“But what makes the pocket?” Yu Fong asked. “What keeps it closed?”

“I don’t know,” I told him.

“An anchor. Every dragon has one. It is an object of great value to them. It can be a sword, a book, a poem on a scroll, something we treasure beyond everything else. We pour our power into it. We sleep with it, we lick it, we bathe it in our blood and in our magic. We keep it close. True, time doesn’t affect us the same way within our lairs, but time still matters. The more time that passes in the outer world, the stronger the anchor. It is the linchpin on which the entire realm revolves. A dragon as old as that insane asshole would have an anchor of overwhelming power. He can call on it anywhere and it will bring him home.”

Shit.

“We can’t kill him,” Saiman said. “Unless we somehow manage an instant death, he will call to the anchor and retreat to his realm.”

“Yes,” Yu Fong said.

Crap. Crap, crap, crap. “Can we destroy the anchor?”

“It’s an object of great power. If you were somehow to destroy it, the realm would collapse upon you.”

That didn’t sound good.

“You have a book,” Yu Fong said. “About small people. They go to the lair of the dragon and they steal his an—”

The candle went out.

“Small people?” I asked.

Saiman shook his head.

“Can we do another session?” I asked.

“Not now. We’ll have to wait at least twenty-four hours.”

I sighed.

“At least we have confirmation from an independent source,” Saiman offered.

“Fat good it will do us.” There were people at the Conclave who would insist the dragon was fake while he roasted them with his breath.

Nothing was ever easy.

* * *

• • •

“A DRAGON?” NICK peered at me from across the table.

The three knights from Wolf Trap had arranged themselves behind him. Knight-striker Cabrera looked at me like I was a spitting cobra. Her hand kept going to her sword sheath, but weapons were forbidden at the Conclave, so her fingers found only air. I could relate.

“Did I stutter?” I drank my coffee. I had outlined the events in Kings Row and my conversation with Neig.

Around the table, concerned faces frowned.

We had tried our best to get everyone together in the morning, but by the time we managed to wrangle the powers of Atlanta into Rivers Steakhouse, it was eight o’clock at night. Normally we met at Bernard’s, on neutral territory, but we needed privacy, and Bernard’s had upscale clientele and had declined to close for the night to accommodate us. Rebecka Rivers shut down her restaurant, posted a member of the kitchen staff at the door, and gave us as much coffee as we wanted, which made me want to hug her. The urge was disturbing.

Everyone who was anyone was here. Nick and the Order across from us; Jim, Dali, Robert, and Desandra to the right of them; Ghastek, Rowena, swaddled into a cloak, the hood over her face, and Ryan Kelly, every inch a businessman except for his bright purple Mohawk; the Red Guard; the Mage College; the witches, represented by Evdokia with two younger women, both of whom were probably her daughters; the volhvs, thin, gaunt Grigorii, his brother Vasiliy, who worshipped Belobog, and Roman; Teddy Jo and two others representing the neo-pagans; Saiman, representing himself; and Luther, representing Biohazard. Even the Druids came, Drest in a pristine white robe, solemn and dignified. His gaze caught mine. Yeah, yeah, no matter how well you clean up, I still saw you running around in animal skins in the woods with your body painted blue.

“So, let me get this straight,” Nick said.

Here we go. “I wish you would.”

“You’re saying that a dragon is about to invade us from a magical pocket dimension with his army.”

“Yes.”

“And he wants you to be his queen.”

“Yes.”

“And, correct me if I’m wrong, but you’re technically a princess, are you not?”

Jumping on the table and punching him in the face would be counterproductive to building a coalition.

“Yes.”

Next to me, Curran turned slightly, looking at Nick. I didn’t have to glance at his face to know his eyes had gone gold.

Nick looked to the rest of the table. “Okay, what we have here, ladies and gentlemen, is a Dungeons and Dragons campaign. The evil dragon wants to steal our princess for nefarious purposes, and she’s looking for some knights in shining armor to rescue her.”

Nervous laughter ran across the table.

“Are you done?” I asked.

“No, I’m just getting started. Have you actually seen this dragon in his dragon form?”

“No.”

“What makes you think it’s a dragon?” Phillip from the Mage College asked.

“I’ve been given information by a pagan faction that states he is.”

“Which faction?” Robert asked.

The druids looked perfectly innocent. Nope, no help there.

“A pagan faction that wishes to remain anonymous.”

“I can vouch for this,” Roman said. “I was there.”

“You married them, and you’re related to her through her mother,” Nick said. “You’re not exactly a neutral party.”

The volhvs looked like they’d been slapped in the face with a fish.

“Are you questioning my son’s word?” Grigorii thundered.

Nick opened his mouth.

“We also have confirmation from Yu Fong,” Saiman said. “Obtained through magical means.”

Phillip glanced at him. “Let me guess, magical means that only you can replicate that cannot be examined by us at this time because of some technicality?”

“What are you implying?” Saiman asked, his voice icy.

“The dragon,” Curran said, his voice cutting others off.

“Yes, the dragon,” Nick said. “Has anyone actually seen this dragon?”

“Do you have any evidence of it?” Phillip asked. “Scales, claws . . .”

Rowena lowered her hood. Phillip fell silent.

“Our condolences on your suffering,” Robert said. “May I ask some questions?”

“Go ahead.”

“Kings Row is outside the People’s patrol routes. What were you doing there?”

“I was going to visit a friend. I was there on my own time and had taken one vampire with me for personal security.”

“What sort of friend?” Robert pressed.

“Is that really relevant?” Ghastek asked.

Rowena raised her hand. “I’ll answer. One of my journeymen died. He left behind a pregnant fiancée. I was fond of him and I occasionally look in on her and her daughter.”