Chapter 3
Along with everyone else, Tanner gave his attention to Avelunne. Like his thunderbird had been doing all along, even when Tanner-the-man wasn’t looking.
“The humans were sold to the slavers. Several other shifters and I were sold to a fairy demesne used for magical experiments and the hybridization and forced breeding of magical beings. They’ve captured many over the millennia.
The laboratories and pens all operate at various time speeds.
To me, it’s only been about twelve or thirteen years since I was caught.
I was plucked from the shifter holding pen by Lab Manager Tippizoars and made into a drudge because I can tolerate electrical fields.
That’s when I learned that the whole demesne is owned by the dark elf, Surasa. ”
A brief surge of furious whispering from the onlookers quieted after an audible throat-clearing sound from Guivre.
“I knew only the shifter pens and the central lab, but the guards and servants spoke about others. According to Tippizoars, Surasa invented almost all of the magical creatures in the real world — shifters, vampires, banshees, and suchlike. They were ungrateful and uncooperative, so she created monsters to punish them. She then discovered magicals and mundanes will pay for such.”
She closed her eyes for a brief moment, as if gathering her thoughts.
“Surasa abides elsewhere and visits the lab only rarely. Tippizoars are the chief of the laboratory demesne. It is enormous, with a hundred time-shifted pens that each hold tens to thousands of captives, mostly adults and few children, who Tippizoars call breeding stock. The crowded pens, the hybrid keeper-guards, the made-to-order monsters… they are horrific.”
Her fingers wrapped tightly around the coil of the drawing pad.
“Tippizoars claim that escape is impossible, but they lie. Keepers and lab servants gossip. New security measures were added because two shifters recently infiltrated the pens and escaped with a third. I made haste to tell the shifters in my pen everything I overheard so they could plan their own escape. After two years…” She frowned.
“Well, two years to me, they told me their plan. Except they didn’t design it for them, they designed it for me.
They said only I had the right access and could evade the new security measures.
I refused. I am worthless in a fight and knew I would fail them.
I begged them to find a way for them all to escape.
Then we found out Surasa is arriving soon because she plans to personally deliver a new order of monsters.
Ten thousand nearly indestructible fighters to a power-mad human dictator in the real world who wishes to quell a rebellion and subjugate a nation.
Her payment is said to be the vanquished rebels and sympathizer populace, up to fifty thousand human and magical subjects for her experiments.
The breeding facility is running low on stock. ”
“Wait, what?” That startled comment came from Pendragor. He stood up straight and stared at Avelunne. “Would this dictator happen to be an ordinary human? No magic?”
Avelunne nodded. “Yes. Tippizoars call the creations ‘super-soldiers.’” She drew in a heavy breath and let it out. “If humans in this era don’t know about the magical world, they certainly will when bipedal, armored reptiles begin eating the dictator’s enemies.”
Pendragor frowned. “How soon is ‘soon’?”
Avelunne shrugged. “In demesne time, maybe a week. Here in the real world, maybe longer or shorter, but I don’t know by how much.”
“Why did you come to Kotoyeesinay?” asked Guivre. “Why not the Shifter Tribunal, or the Vampire Imperium?”
Tanner suppressed a grimace. In his experience, the Tribunal could barely get out of its own way when it came to making quick decisions, and the Imperium relied too heavily on reputation, not results.
“The thunderbirds and a coyote shifter suggested Kotoyeesinay as the least political option. They all agreed that if any place was still around, it would be this sanctuary town. My second choice is the High Dragon Court.”
The wyvern lifted his head. “I regret to inform you that the High Dragon Court is no more. It self-destructed a year after your capture.” The breathy, slightly sibilant voice had a British accent. “The new Dragon Court is still hatching.”
Tanner’s brain caught up with her words. He rose to his feet, unable to stay still. “Guivre, may I speak?”
“Of course.”
He fought hard to keep his tone even and his enunciation precise. “The shifters who she claims helped her couldn’t have been thunderbirds. They are extinct.” The sting of betrayal blew through him.
Unexpectedly, she twisted in her chair to face him, her voice tight with anger.
“They most certainly are not. Their names are Timoki and Rutera, and they’re as real as you are.
” He saw the moment realization struck. “Oh, I see. You’re a thunderbird, too.
No wonder they sent me here.” Her expression softened.
Stunned, he turned to Guivre. “Those were… they’re my cousins. They disappeared from Australia in the late 1920s. We were the last of our kind.”
Avelunne’s voice drew his attention back to her.
“There may be more in other pens. Tippizoars are surprisingly stupid about shifters. They believe your cousins to be ordinary avian shifters. They are unable to tell one dragon from another because the demesne’s magical rules force all shifters to stay in human form to keep us weak.
That ignorance was part of why I could escape. ”
An iron weight of guilt settled in Tanner’s gut. He should have tried harder to find his cousins. Instead, he focused on his responsibilities in Kotoyeesinay, assuming they’d find him if they wanted to.
“As long as we’re asking questions,” said Pendragor, “how did you bypass the town shield?”
“Patience, Pen,” chided Guivre. “Let Avelunne finish what she came to say.”
Avelunne turned to face the council again.
“The demesne entry opens in the uppermost stratosphere, and its shield blocks portals. It will take the highest flyers to get there. If an initial rescue group can get past the defenses, they can disable the teleportation blocks so more rescuers can get in. The shifters of my pen will be ready for an escape. The new security measures address a specific vulnerability, but the entry’s security defenses are auto-magic and neglected.
No one has attacked in a millennium.” Avelunne waved an apologetic hand.
“I can tell you no more than this. I am no warrior, merely an artist. I memorized what my fellow prisoners taught me to say about strategy and tactics.”
Uneasy silence settled in the room as Tanner sat back down. Apparently, everyone else needed a moment to think as much as he did.
At the Council table, Wolcz stood up and cast a suspicious stare at Avelunne.
“I am Linderhort Wolcz, Second Dux of Molokadi Seep, born for the Cavern Magoviti Clan, the Holders of the Key. May we have your full name and lineage, please? The peace-bonds you’re wearing appear to be cloaking your aura. ”
Avelunne’s spine and shoulders straightened by a fraction. “I am Avelunne the Cursed and Blessed, Outlier of the Storm Mouth, born in the Unbroken Line of the Stormrider Moonwing Clan, the Moon’s First Chosen.”
Her response meant nothing to Tanner, but the same couldn’t be said of the dragons in the room.
“I told you!” In the audience, Trolhorne leapt to his feet. “She’s a devil-spawned moonwing!”
“Sit down, Sten,” said Wolcz repressively. “This isn’t the—”
“Moonwings started the coup that killed the High Court and everyone else!” Sten stabbed the air with an accusatory finger.
“When they knew they’d lost, they blew up the mountain rather than let the others win.
My clan is dead because of her!” Magic surged as Sten’s left fist acquired a thick coating of ice.
Avelunne froze. Instinct had Tanner moving to block whatever angry ice dragon planned. The peace bonds should protect her, but Tanner was more than willing to introduce Trolhorne to the percussive power of thunder.
Up front, Pendragor now held a slender wand as he, too, faced Trolhorne.
Arcane suppressive magic washed over the room.
The wyvern known as Scholar of the Skies uncurled his tail and raised his head to regard the hot-tempered ice dragon.
“Do you wish to present evidence for your claim, Mr. Trolhorne?” Stern disapproval spiked through the wyvern’s question.
“Evidence that no other dragon has been able to provide in more than one hundred seventy years since those rumors started?” A warning puff of steam escaped the wyvern’s nostrils.
“Or perhaps you wish to present direct testimony regarding events that took place before you were even hatched?”
Tanner winced at the utter disdain in Scholar’s tone. Angering a wyvern was never wise. They wielded facts and logic almost better than they wielded their formidable magic.
Apparently, Trolhorne belatedly recognized the danger. He visibly reined in his temper as the ice fogged away from his hand. “I’m sorry for interrupting.”
Tanner barely stopped himself from snorting. He hadn’t heard an apology that insincere in decades.
Trolhorne began to sink into his chair, but paused to glare at the council table. “This is a trap” — he tilted his chin toward Avelunne — “and she’s the bait.”
Tanner glanced at Avelunne, noting that she was clutching her drawing pad to her chest like it was a life raft, but no longer frozen in fear.
Guivre stood. “The Council will meet in the glade while we consider opinions, facts, and options. If anyone has actual evidence or useful information, please send it or join us.”
The cool tone seemed to take the air from under Trolhorne’s wings. He sat back down and slumped, arms crossed. Next to him, the dragon named Tiziri-something subtly leaned away from him as she frowned.
Guivre focused her attention on Avelunne. “We will probably have more questions soon. We invite you to stay in the Transition Center, if you’d like. In any case, your healer would like to see you again.” The corner of her mouth twitched in a half smile. “She worries.”
Avelunne nodded but said nothing.
Tanner stepped forward. “I’ll take her to the Welcome Hall, rather than making Denise come to the station.
” It was the least he could do, considering he’d failed to see Trolhorne’s threat until it was almost too late.
And Wolcz’s calculating gaze as he’d watched the end of the drama made Tanner wonder what his game was.
The chimes rang again, signaling the end of the session. The council members rose from their chairs to collect their belongings.
Trolhorne regained most of his habitual swagger by the time he reached the exit. Interestingly, the sand dragon female had stood and slipped quickly away. He made a mental note to find out more about her.
To be honest, Tanner would be happy to have Avelunne blocks away at the Transition Center. Keeping her only steps away at the station was too much of a distraction.