Chapter Five #3
I didn’t want to answer. Hell, I thought for a moment of just disappearing into the Beyond, but the knowledge that the First Dragon could follow me there had me slumping back in my chair.
“Because my glamours are too good. I realize that sounds like the worst sort of conceit, but the truth is ... well, they are good. And very much in demand. So much so that every demon lord, mage, and demigod around wanted me to work solely for them. You can imagine what that means.”
To my surprise, Charity nodded. “I’m a siren, so I know just how you feel about everyone knowing who and what you are.”
“You’re a siren?” I asked, staring at her in surprise. “I thought ... my mother told me there were only two others, and they were in the Beyond to keep them out of trouble.”
“They are.” Charity looked to the First Dragon, before asking me, “Two others? Your mother is a siren, too?”
“She was, yes.” I studied my hands, noting absently that my time in the sun during the last few weeks had brought out a new crop of freckles.
I realized then that I wasn’t wearing a glamour, and panicked for a moment, fearing .
.. I didn’t know what, exactly, other than there were very few people whom I let see the real me.
“You are a savant,” the First Dragon said, still studying me. I flicked a glance toward him and nodded. He looked thoughtful as he said, “That explains why the demons sought you, but not why you stopped making glamours.”
“It’s just easier to lean into singing rather than making magic so good that everyone wants a piece of me,” I answered, suddenly weary. My entire adult life had been a struggle, one in which the real me was never wanted, only my talents.
“Aisling’s a savant, too,” Ysolde told me, nodding toward her.
“The Guardian flavor, though, which is why I have Jim,” Aisling said.
“It’s more really that I enhance her life,” Jim told me with a wink.
I stared at it, wondering when my life had taken a turn into a farce.
“Yrian Shadowsworn is held in the Asile,” the First Dragon said, more or less ignoring the others to keep his attention focused on me.
It was not a comfortable experience.
“Your son?” I asked.
He didn’t answer, instead saying, “He has been deemed a danger to mortals and immortals. The people holding him captive are annoying but, unfortunately, have Yrian in a prison from which I am unable to release him. You must make a glamour that will get him out before they take him to the Thirteenth Hour. According to the former Sovereign I consulted, that event is scheduled for tomorrow. You will make the glamour today, and take it in to him so that he might return to the dragonkin. His help is needed to end the threat to my children.”
I knew when I was beaten. There was no way out of this situation that wouldn’t end in possible death or at least imprisonment should I refuse. I’m not stupid—I knew that my only option was to bargain a resolution that would benefit me.
“All right,” I said, obviously taking everyone by surprise ... everyone but the First Dragon. “But I want something in return.”
He inclined his head slightly. “Name your boon.”
I glanced around at the company, weighing up my chances of actually getting some help for a change. “I want Candy and Andy out of commission.”
“Who, exactly, are they?” Aisling asked, her eyebrows raised when her wyvern shot her a pointed look.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt, but as the official demon wrangler of the group, I figured I should ask whose demons they were.
I mean, I might be able to help if it’s just a matter of banishing them to the Akasha. ”
The First Dragon was silent, still watching me with those uncanny eyes.
Ysolde tipped her head toward her dragon, who leaned against a pillar looking bored. “Baltic?”
“What?”
“Do you know whose demons those were?”
“Yes.”
Silence fell over the group, only the faint drowsy buzzing of bees audible.
“Dragons are seriously the most annoying of beings,” Ysolde said, frowning at Baltic. He frowned right back at her.
“Jim? Since the men are being their usual tight-lipped selves and refusing to answer a simple and wholly reasonable question, why don’t you do the honors?” Aisling asked, nudging her dog. “To whom do those two demons belong?”
“Eh,” Jim said, sending a worried look at the First Dragon. “I don’t know if I should say. It’s gonna make everyone pissed, and then I won’t get a burger, because you’ll all be yelling and arguing and picking on me.”
“I never let anyone pick on you,” Aisling told it, looking outraged before she qualified it with, “I am the only one allowed to do that, except Drake on occasion, and that’s only because you’ve lipped off to him or done something heinous to his favorite leather couch.
Now, answer the question, and yes, that’s an order. ”
Jim sighed a put-upon sigh, and lay down on the cool tile floor. “They belong to Bael.”
The dragons all froze, all but Baltic, who also heaved a sigh and moved over to stand behind his wife, his hands on her shoulders.
Aisling swore in French.
“Can you do it?” I asked the First Dragon. “Can you take care of them for me?”
“Take care of?” he said in his slow, measured tone. “Define what that means.”
“Get them off my back. Make them stop following me all over the US and Europe.” I sighed, suddenly feeling as if I were hollow inside, the outer shell all that seemed real. “Distract them with something or someone else so that I can stop running all the time.”
“That is not what you want,” the First Dragon answered, his eyes dark and watchful, like he was waiting for me to have an epiphany.
My gaze fell to my hands again, and absently, I sketched out a new glamour, one that hid my hair color (a shade of red most commonly called ginger) and facial features. “I’ll take what I can get,” was all I answered.
Silence fell again, but it was a pregnant silence, one filled with the dragons glancing amongst one another, but no one speaking, clearly giving the floor to the First Dragon.
The august person, for the first time since I’d sat down, let his gaze rest a few seconds on the dragons before it settled back on me.
“In the normal course of events, my kin are able to destroy wrath demons, but the two who seek you for their master are different. They have more power than they ought.”
“Can Bael do that from the Duat?” Aisling asked. “I thought the whole point of trapping him there was that he couldn’t do bad things in the mortal world.”
“He is confined, but that does not mean he is powerless,” the First Dragon said, asking Baltic, “Did you feel anything about the wrath demons?”
“Only what you did—they were too powerful for what they were,” he answered, his expression now looking as thoughtful as the First Dragon’s. “But I did not think that Bael could give away power outside of Duat.”
The First Dragon was silent for a good two minutes before he spoke. “He should not be able to do so, but I suspect he has found a way around the protections Osiris keeps for his underworld. He has been ... distracted of late, and perhaps has not been as attentive as he should be.”
“Are you saying that taking down Candy and Andy is impossible?” I asked, the tiny flicker of hope that had lit inside me at the thought of peace sputtering to a smoky end.
“No,” he said after a few moments’ thought.
“It is possible to destroy them, but it will not be as easy as any other wrath demon. The kin will require Yrian’s contribution to achieve that goal.
I agree to your terms. You will release my son, and in exchange, the dragonkin will protect you from the demons until such time as they have been dealt with. ”
A little murmur went amongst the dragons, but it was the vampire that surprised me the most. “The Dark Ones have traditionally not involved ourselves much with the business of dragons, but I accept responsibility for the demons’ presence at the festival.
For that reason, I offer the services of my Beloved and myself.
She is a Summoner of great repute, and I have some knowledge of demons and their lords. ”
The First Dragon looked at him for a long four seconds, but before he said more than, “All help is welcome,” the garden and patio and gorgeous Italian villa faded into a slightly smoky-scented night, the harsh stage lights casting deep shadows from the trailers.
“Wow,” the woman named Allie said, leaning into her vampire. “That was intense. I’ve never seen an actual god before.”
“Demigod,” Baltic and Ysolde said together, then turned to look at me.
I slumped back against the trailer as the young man named Brom loped up, his girlfriend in tow. “Sullivan? Where did you go? We looked all over for you, but everyone was gone. Oh. Is this the siren?” He nodded toward me.
“My mom was a siren, not me. I just inherited good singing abilities, but other than that, yes, it’s me,” I said with a sudden pulling sense that warned I would need rest soon.
It was always so after a performance, especially one where I had to expend the energy to escape into the Beyond.
Idly, I noticed that the girl Pixie wore a glamour to hide an extra set of arms, marking her as a poltergeist. The glamour looked like a commonly used lower-grade one, obviously about to wear off.
Without thinking, I started drawing a proper glamour.
“The First Dragon took us to his digs,” Jim the demon said, wandering over to snuffle Brom. “Hey, is that ice cream place still open?”
“What are you doing?” the green-eyed dragon asked me, his gaze suspicious.
“Creating a glamour,” I answered, nodding toward Pixie. “Hers is about to fall off, and I expect with so many mortals around, she wouldn’t want her extra arms showing.”
Everyone stared at me with disbelief. I held up my hands, the pattern of the glamour glinting faintly in the shadows. “I’ll stop if you don’t want it, but I figured you’d like something of a better quality than the stuff you get at a glamour shop.”
“OK,” the young woman said, her black hair piled on her head in a manner that had it bobbing around after she stopped nodding. “How much will it cost? Karma—my foster mother—gave me her card, but I’m only supposed to use it in emergencies.”
I smiled at her, and finished up the glamour. “My treat. This should last you a good month before it starts to crack. If you want me to seal it, it could go six months to a year.”
“A year?” Aisling asked even as the two young people gawked at me. “You can make a glamour last a whole year?”
“Savant, remember?” I said, eyeing Pixie. “And yes, sealed glamours last longer than normal ones. Mostly, they go for two to three months, but when made by me ... well, they last longer. The glamour’s yours ... unless you don’t want one for a month?” The last sentence was spoken to Pixie.
“Is it going to hurt?” she asked, rubbing her arms. “The glamours get a bit irritating after six hours, so I usually have to take them off for a bit.”
“My glamours don’t do that,” I said, eyeing her for a moment, then made a few tweaks to the threads that wound through the glamour. “But if you don’t want to wear it ...”
“Deus, no! I’d love not having to worry ...” She stopped herself as she reached for it, clearing her throat and adding, “That is, I’d like it if you really aren’t going to charge me for it, and it doesn’t make me itch and get sore.”
“Let’s try it unsealed, just in case you don’t like it,” I said, tossing the glamour into the air so it sparkled for a brief moment before drifting down onto her. “It’ll last only a month, all right?”
She gasped, an expression of pleasure on her face as she looked down. “It’s like ... it’s like it’s not there, but I only have two arms.”
“You really are talented,” Ysolde said, examining the girl. “I don’t even see a hint of it.”
“Christian?” Allie asked her vampire.
He took a few steps forward, murmured a “You permit?” to Pixie before moving around her, his eyes narrowed. He cast an odd glance toward me and shook his head. “I see no signs of anything other than a perfectly normal teenage girl.”
Pixie looked like she wanted to dispute that statement, but bit back a response when Brom wrapped an arm around her waist.
“Right,” I said, wanting nothing more than to fall into the nearest bed and sleep for approximately six months. “I have about twenty minutes before I collapse, and at least one set to do tomorrow for the band contest. Shall we get started?”