Dragon Soul

  “You swallowed it?” I asked, startled.

  “No, I had my belly button pierced using it. That way I knew it would always be safe.”

  “Clever,” I admitted, giving her arm a little pat. “Don’t worry about Osiris. The captain said that Maat was here early, so maybe Osiris didn’t get the word that you’d be ready to release him just yet.”

  She sighed again, and I left her to her melancholy thoughts, moving over to stand next to Rowan.

  “I am a bad person,” I announced softly to him.

  He was watching the other dragons, now in conference, his gaze moving from them to the captain to Ken and Barbie. “No you’re not. Is this the point where I should ask you why you think you are?”

  “Of course you should.” I waved my hands around. “You don’t let your mate make statements like ‘I am a bad person’ without both disputing that fact and then asking her to explain, thereby allowing her to bare her soul to you.”

  “Fine. Why do you think you’re a bad person?”

  “Because I am judging Mrs. P. She’s running away with a married man, Rowan. I know that isn’t a big deal these days, but when I think of some hussy running off with you, I see red. And knives. Gelding knives, and lots of them.”

  “Ah, but you are not considering two points,” he said, turning to face me. “First and most important, I would never run away with a hussy. You are my mate, and you are going to stay my mate. I have informed you that I love you, a statement I don’t make lightly. And second, you forget that Osiris and Isis were wed thousands of years ago. They were actually brother and sister, and there were a limited number of gods to go around, so they had to wed.”

  “That’s just seriously ew,” I said, trying not to grimace.

  “You might ask Osiris what sort of a marriage he had before you make a final judgment on Mrs. P for wishing to be with him.”

  “Oh yes, that’s going to be an easy conversation to have. ‘Pardon me, god of the Underworld, did you enjoy your incestuous relationship with your sister, or are you just tired of her and want fresh meat?’ Yeah, I think I’ll pass on that little chat.”

  “Why are they excluding us from their conversation?” Rowan asked, looking back at the dragons. “They are planning something. They wish us to be out of their precious weyr.”

  “I think you’re being a little paranoid. Why don’t we go ask them what’s going… hey!”

  Rowan’s eyebrows rose when I grabbed his arm. “Hey?”

  I nodded toward Bee and Constantine. “It just struck me—they were here before, along with the others, and they got to leave. They didn’t have to wait around for Maat.”

  “They were visitors, not travelers on the ship,” he said just as if that explained everything. I looked at him until he unbent. “It is the act of traveling through the Duat that signifies the deceased going to his or her destination. People can and do visit the Underworld without being stuck here. But if you are a passenger on the ship through it, you are considered a pilgrim, if you will.”

  “Oh. I wish someone had told me that before—I would have rented one of those fancy cars and just driven through it.”

  “Then we would not have been able to face the challenges, and that is what was required of us. Come. I grow tired of them deliberately slighting us. We shall go demand to be included in whatever plans they are making.”

  I didn’t let him see me giggle at his offended tone, just allowed him to steer me over to where the four dragons were deep in confab.

  “Here you are. We wondered if you were coming to join us,” Bee said, smiling warmly at us. “May says you had all sorts of trouble right as we arrived, but I see you took care of it.”

  Rowan inclined his head at Constantine, who returned the gesture.

  “Rowan was seriously awesome, although I won’t be so modest that I won’t mention the fact that I kicked some booty with a few well-placed arrows. Would you take offense if I asked you why you’re here?” I asked Bee.

  She looked mildly annoyed.

  Constantine’s jaw tightened, but he managed to get out, “We were summoned here. Again. Despite the fact that we have important things to do, the First Dragon insisted that we return here. I informed him that we are not at his beck and call, but he just said something about me needing to be here, and thus we had to dash off to Egypt.”

  “Wow, this place seriously needs an elevator,” said the head named Gary as he rolled up on his RC jeep. “I got stuck on the second flight of stairs, and had to beg a lift from a passing steward.”

  Constantine frowned at the head. “I told you to stay below, where you won’t get into trouble if there is fighting.”

  “Connie, Connie, Connie, you know me better than that!” Gary said, zipping over to us. “Hi, Rowan! Hi, Sophea. That’s a super outfit, Sophea. Is it Tomb Raider?”

  “Yes,” I said, trying not to stare. I still hadn’t really come to grips with the idea of a bodyless head riding around.

  “He really is the biggest pain in the butt,” Bee said. “The First Dragon that is, not Constantine. I mean, we were just here, and then he sends word to Constantine that we have to come back, all the way from London.”

  “Was he planning on being here?” May asked, looking a little worried. “I had no idea the First Dragon was coming back.”

  “I gathered that was the point, but I don’t see him.”

  Constantine, who had his back to the group of passengers, now turned to scan them. About half of them were gone, having passed Maat’s test while we were talking, the successful applicants joyously trotting down the gangplank to a waiting bus.

  “I don’t know why he called us… Oh.”

  We turned to see what he was looking at. Two of the men were working the line of remaining passengers. To our left, Ken and Barbie stood with the captain. To the right, Mrs. P stared out at the shore. Four of the six priestesses had been cleared to move on, and evidently, that meant they couldn’t linger, for they bade us all farewell before proceeding off the ship.

  “Oh? What oh?” Bee asked, craning her neck. As she did so, one of Maat’s men broke off and came over to us, a faint smile on his lips.

  “Just why have you called us here?” Constantine asked the man. “Again. We only just got back home when you summoned us once more.”

  I gawked at the man who stopped in front of us. He was about my height, had light brown hair, and a mild expression that quickly registered chagrin. And then before our eyes, his figure shimmered and became that of the enigmatic First Dragon. “You have seen through my glamour. Alas, I was never very good at them. Certainly not as good as you, Bael.”

  To my absolute surprise, he didn’t speak that last sentence of any of us. He had turned to face Ken and Barbie.

  “That’s it,” I heard Rowan say softly. “That’s what’s wrong with them. It’s a glamour.”

  “What on earth is a glamour?” I asked, but Rowan had no time to answer before Barbie stepped forward.

  “It is rare to hear the First Sire admit a failing in any area—except that concerning me, of course.” Barbie’s voice was as sharp as a razor. “And yes, my abilities with glamours have served me well. No one has ever seen through them… until now.”

  “Great Caesar’s gallbladder! That’s… that’s the demon lord guy? Barbie?” I gasped when it was Barbie’s turn to change form: that from a stocky woman into a man, his long face and aquiline nose giving him a snooty appearance that went right along with his sarcastic voice.

  “His name is Bael,” Constantine said, his voice choked.

  Rowan, however, gave a little nod as if it all made sense to him.

  I stared at the demon lord who was such a threat, trying to resolve the image of the middle-aged woman to that of a man who held so much power, he could destroy the mortal world. The glamour must have allowed him to fool us all. I made a mental note to ask Rowan for more information later.

  Ken likewise transformed into another man, this one small and pinch
ed-looking. He glanced quickly between the First Dragon and Barbie… no, Bael… his expression unhappy. “My lord, I wish you had not dismissed the glamour altering my appearance. I told you that I greatly enjoyed my new body, and wished to retain it.”

  “Silence,” Bael ordered, strolling toward us. His eyes flitted past me to where Mrs. P still stood mooning over her lost boyfriend. “Your opinion is not needed nor desired.”

  “But I went to all the trouble of altering this costume so it would fit my female form,” Ken protested. He pulled off the wig and set it down with reverence. “And the sheep! It wasn’t easy manufacturing that out of nothing, you know! Plus, everyone liked me as Ken. I don’t want to go back to being just another demon. I want to be Ken again, and wear cute swimsuits, and sunbathe, and dance the limbo with the captain, and flirt with that handsome steward, and—”

  “SILENCE!” Bael bellowed, and I swore I saw little black tendrils of power reach out and bite at Ken.

  The latter yelped and jumped back a few paces.

  To a man (and woman), everyone in the line waiting turned to look at us. Maat looked as well. The captain sidled away from Bael, his officers following.

  Even Mrs. P turned around to see what the commotion was.

  Mrs. P! I knew at that moment that Bael realized who she was. “So that’s why you’ve been offering to help us so much and trying so hard to meet Mrs. P,” I said, moving toward the woman in question.

  Mrs. P just looked confused.

  “Well, you’re not getting her or the ring!” I declared, taking up a stand in front of her. I’d gathered up my arrows and wiped them off as best I could. Now I pulled my bow from my back, and nocked an arrow.

  Bael smiled. If his smile as Barbie wasn’t the prettiest thing in the world, the smile as his real self took at least five years off my life.

  Behind me, Mrs. P gasped.

  Rowan quickly moved in front of me, the dragons all taking their places around him, effectively providing a barrier between Bael and Mrs. P. May handed out the demons’ swords, which had been left behind when their bodies disappeared, to all the dragons, the women included. “My mate speaks the truth. You should leave now, Bael. You will not get what you came for. The ring will be broken and its essence locked away where you can’t get it.”

  Bael’s upper lip curled. “You think to challenge me, dragon? I have more power than you can conceive of in your tiny mind.”

  “Really?” Constantine drawled, facing him with an intractable expression. “Then why have you waited so long to reveal yourself? Why have you not taken the ring before this?”

  “Because he didn’t know which of the priestesses held the ring,” Rowan said slowly, his voice gaining confidence as he spoke. Clearly, he’d figured out all the bits about which I was still fuzzy. “That’s why you killed the two who you saw speaking with us.”

  “Oh,” I said, enlightenment dawning. “I thought it was the captain who killed them and tried to cover it up by making it look like it was someone else—”

  Captain Kherty was close enough to hear our conversation. He turned a scowl on me that had me mouthing an apology at him.

  “And if he couldn’t tell just by looking at the women which was the one he sought,” Rowan continued, warming to his exposition, “then I’d guess that meant that these great powers he holds aren’t quite so potent in the Underworld.”

  “Powers based in another world never are as effective in other domains,” the First Dragon said, waving his hand toward the stairs.

  “Hullo, what do we have here? Maat doing her thing already? I was told that you wouldn’t need me to run the others to the next world until tomorrow.” A man emerged from the stairs, a good-looking man of Egyptian heritage, his glossy black hair swept back from a high forehead. He was dressed casually in jeans and a blue silk shirt, and was accompanied by two men who clearly held the post of guards of some sort. They were dressed in what I thought of as ancient Egyptian outfits—the white linen kilted skirts, metal bracelets, and a wide gold necklet. Each had swords crossed on their respective backs, and they were bare-chested.

  “Is that who I think that is?” I asked Rowan in a whisper.

  “Osiris himself, I believe,” he answered.

  “My beau!” Mrs. P squealed, and dashed toward Osiris.

  He looked started for a moment, then his eyebrows rose. “By the gods, is it the chief priestess? Aset! I have not seen you in many centuries.”

  I realized too late that she had run in front of me, and I lunged after her to stop her from getting near Bael, but I was too late. He moved more swiftly than I could follow, one moment standing next to Ken, the next across the deck with a knife held to Mrs. P’s neck. “I do not need magic to take what I want in this domain,” he snarled. “Stand back, or I will slay the woman. And unlike the others, she shall not rise again.”

  “Can he do that?” I asked Rowan. “Kill her for good, I mean?”

  He glanced toward Osiris. “I don’t know, but I’d guess he could.”

  “Who is that man?” Osiris asked, squinting a little as he peered at Bael. He clucked his tongue and pulled a pair of glasses from his shirt pocket. “Eyesight isn’t what it used to be. The wife keeps telling me I should get myself that laser surgery… oh, he’s not a mortal, he’s a demon lord. Why is there a demon lord in my Underworld?”

  “Hiya.” Gary rolled over to Osiris, beaming up at him. “I’m Gary. Well, Gareth really, but no one calls me that. I don’t know why there’s a demon lord here, but I did want to say that I really like your Underworld. It’s super interesting. I used to be with Asmodeus—did you know him? But then Bael over there killed him, and Connie and Bee took me in, and now we’re just one happy family. So, you’re Osiris himself! That has to be cool.”

  Osiris considered Gary with pursed lips, and then said, “Ah. Just so. A head. Interesting choice of pets, dragon.”

  Constantine looked martyred for a moment. “He has his moments.”

  “I just wish I knew why demon lords and dragons and loose heads are running around and causing fights.” Osiris looked around as if someone would provide him the answer.

  The First Dragon shook his head. “You really are out of touch, brother.”

  “Brother?” I said, just as Bee said the exact same thing.

  She turned to Constantine. “Osiris is your uncle? Is everyone in the Otherworld related to you?”

  Constantine looked even more put upon. “Not everyone. And there’s a reason I keep my family tales from you. Now you see proof of why I do so.”

  Osiris lifted his glasses and squinted at the First Dragon. “You’re here, too?”

  “I started it,” the First Dragon said, spreading his hands. “I felt I should be at the end, as well.”

  “Ah. Yes.” Osiris glanced at Bael. “I see your point. You, demon lord—”

  “My name is Bael,” the man in question snarled. “I am the premier prince of Abaddon. I rule the Otherworld and am soon to rule the mortal world. You would do well to temper your tone, lord of the Underworld, lest I turn my sights to you, too.”

  “I tremble with fear,” Osiris said, clearly not in the least bit worried. He gestured for Maat to come forward.

  I looked over at her, surprised to see that all the other passengers had gone. She was sitting on the edge of the table, watching the goings-on with interest.

  Osiris walked toward Bael, the dragons falling into the place behind him. Mrs. P squealed when the tip of the blade dug into her flesh, a line of blood dripping down her neck, disappearing into the bodice of her costume.

  “Stop there, or I will kill her,” Bael warned. “And then I will damn her soul to eternal torment. I might not have my full powers here, but I have enough remaining to see to it that your beloved suffers for eternity.”

  “What an asshat,” I said softly to Rowan, my eyes on the knife. “What are we going to do?”

  He looked at me out of the corner of his eye. “With gods and demigods sca
ttered all around, you expect me to take charge of the situation?”

  “Yes,” I said firmly, taking his hand. “Because you truly are a champion, as well as a butt-kicking dragon. And you’re not the sort of man to let others fight your battle.”

  “I wasn’t aware it was my battle.” One of his eyebrows rose as he spoke.

  “Well, okay, it’s probably more my battle, but we’re a couple now, and that means we share things like that. Right?”

  His mouth quirked. Dear god, how I loved his mouth. And his chest. And his legs. Oh, who was I fooling, I was wildly, insanely, madly in love with him. I couldn’t imagine life without the man, and that thought suddenly stopped scaring me, and made me feel like the happiest woman alive. “You are correct. Very well. If you insist I take action…”

  He strode forward, handing his sword to Constantine as he passed by, no doubt to show Bael that he was no threat. I had no idea what he was going to do, because at that moment, someone grabbed my Lara Croft braid and brutally yanked me backward, knocking my bow and arrow from my hand.

  “Argh!” I screamed, and out of the corner of my eye I saw two men climb over the rail. Evidently a few more demons had been held in reserve, and one of them now held an arrow to my throat, the tip of it piercing my flesh.

  Rowan spun around and roared his anger. He leaped toward us, his body changing in midstep into that of a red-scaled dragon, his eyes all but spitting fury.

  Bael slammed Mrs. P to the ground, pinning her to it with the knife, while he chanted something that sounded extremely bad, his hands waving over her chest in a strange pattern.

  What I can only describe as a tear in the middle of nothing opened up, and a two small men emerged, both of them drawing symbols around us.

  Pain wracked me as the two newcomers spoke. Rowan reached the man holding me just as Baltic and Gabriel shifted into dragon form, the two of them leaping on the chanting men.

  For a moment I was terrified by the dragon bearing down on me, but then I saw his eyes and realized I could never be afraid of Rowan. Not my Rowan of the gentle heart, odd sense of humor, and passion that made me melt into a puddle of goo. Suddenly, the arrow was gone, and I was falling forward.