Promise of Wrath (The Hellequin Chronicles Book 6)
The creature’s massive taloned foot was the first thing I saw. Each talon was the length of a man, attached to a foot that could crush a car with ease. A second foot appeared soon after, and then the head, and before I knew what was happening, a dragon climbed through the portal.
The creature was gargantuan: larger than any living thing I’d ever seen. Its body was completely black, save for the yellow and orange of its eyes. It looked down at me as Irkalla ran out, grabbed me and quickly pulled me behind a huge column. One of her arms was bleeding, but now was not the time for an update.
The dragon roared.
“Tiamat,” Irkalla hissed. “The stupid fool brought her back.”
“I thought she was dead.”
“She doesn’t look very dead now, does she?”
Tiamat opened her mouth and purple flame burst forth from it, destroying everything it touched in the main hall.
“Oh, Tiamat,” Siris called out from somewhere above us. “Take this gift. Take it and be free. Burn this world so we might remake it in your image. Oh, great and powerful Tiamat, help us rebuild this accursed world. Help us cleanse it of the taint of corruption.”
I saw Brutus fall through from the floor above, but he never hit the floor. Tiamat caught him in mid-air and bit him in half before my eyes. She allowed the top half of his body to hit the floor with a splat while she swallowed the bottom in one bite, then finished him off as if he were nothing more than a doggy treat.
“How do we kill a dragon?” I asked.
“I don’t even know if you can,” Irkalla replied.
“Go forth, oh, great Tiamat. Cleanse this city of its corruption,” Siris said.
“She needs to shut the fuck up!” I snapped and spun around the corner, sprinting toward Tiamat as she beat her wings and released her terrible purple flame, destroying the dome directly above her in seconds. She beat her wings again, and I wrapped myself in a shield of air, before throwing a loop of it around the closest wing.
Tiamat took off out of the museum, high into the air, as I climbed the black scales along her back, looping the air magic around her to hold me steady as she reveled in her newfound freedom. More purple flame burst from her mouth, leveling a building and tearing through several cars outside the museum. We were about as high as when the helicopter dropped me when I looped the air around Tiamat’s neck and pulled tight. She bucked and took off high above, moving several hundred feet in seconds as the city of London became a blip below me.
I held on with everything I had. To do otherwise meant my death, and frankly, that was one thing I really wasn’t keen on. I didn’t even have a plan beyond climbing on the dragon, and if I was being honest, that was a pretty stupid plan. Leaping onto the back of a dragon and riding it high into the air doesn’t normally come under the heading of well-thought-out ideas.
When it became obvious that she was going to keep going until I died or let go, I tightened the air loop around Tiamat’s neck and twisted my body, forcing her to turn back down toward the city.
“Release me!” Tiamat said, her voice booming in my ears, despite the speed of the wind whipping around me.
“Not a chance,” I snapped, and she spewed purple flame again, ripping apart several floors of an office block as we flew further and further into London’s heart.
I wrapped air around Tiamat’s muzzle, forcing it closed. I figured it was probably designed like a crocodile’s, and once you keep the bottom jaw shut, they can’t open the top one. I vaguely remembered reading that somewhere, or I was talking shite and had no idea, but it was better than sitting there and hoping for the best.
Tiamat skimmed the tops of buildings and shook her head from side to side, eventually forcing me to release the muzzle I’d employed.
“Why don’t you just stop?” I eventually shouted as we neared St. Paul’s Cathedral.
“What a good idea,” Tiamat said, and she landed on top of the cathedral, her claws punching through the brick, and her wings enveloping a structure that was never really meant to hold a dragon. People had gathered in the streets below and I really wanted to tell them how stupid they were, but Tiamat’s purple blaze did that for me. I had no idea how many she’d killed since arriving in our realm, but I had to stop her.
“Humans always think they can tell me what to do,” she snarled, then blasted more purple flame at innocents below.
“Stop being a dick!” I shouted, changing the chain of air around her throat to include spikes. I pulled it back as hard as I could, and Tiamat roared in pain, thrashing around until I replaced the spikes with normal air magic.
“I will feast on your organs for that!” she cursed.
“Good for you, but while I’m sat here, we’re both in a stalemate.”
A low rumble started in her belly, traveling up just below me before bursting forth from her mouth as an almost missile-like object that streaked its purple flame along the street in front until it hit a truck. The truck vanished in a ball of flame, which also engulfed a few cars that were nearby.
“Do not presume to threaten me again, human.”
“Sorcerer,” I corrected, not wanting to think how many innocents would die if I couldn’t stop Tiamat. “And you need to stop doing that.” I removed the air magic and poured lightning into the back of Tiamat’s head, keeping the pressure on until she bucked, throwing me back along her spine. I was just able to grab hold of her wing as she took off once again.
The movement of the wing was like being on the world’s most evil bucking bull—a bull that really wanted to tear me in half. I used one hand to wrap air magic around Tiamat’s back leg, and as I swung down, I created a blade of lightning and carved through the thin membrane that covered the wing.
Warm blood poured out of the wound, drenching me. Tiamat fell toward the River Thames, crashing into and over the Millennium Bridge, tearing most of it apart. I was thrown free over the remains of the bridge, close to the Tate Modern Museum. I managed to ignite my air magic to cushion my fall, before rolling several feet onto a small patch of grass. It felt like years had passed since I’d saved the young girl here only a few days earlier.
People had already been sprinting for their lives off the bridge before Tiamat crashed into it. A fire-breathing dragon had that effect on people. But I saw that more than a few had fallen into the water. Tiamat was some distance from the bridge now, but was thrashing around after being caught up in the bridge cables.
The bridge itself was now mostly in two large pieces; about a hundred and fifty yards had been torn apart, most of it ending up in the Thames. The middle section still attached to the struts was bent at a ninety-degree angle, but the parts on either side were still mostly intact. Although from the way some of the support struts were bent, I doubted they would stay that way.
I wrapped air around the struts, helping to keep them upright as people rushed off the bridge until it was empty. Then I released the air and began helping people out of the water just as the bridge collapsed.
I looked up as the sound of a horn broke through the cries and screams in the air, and saw a familiar-looking Mercedes driving along the other side of the river, stopping just short of the ruined bridge. Diane got out, along with everyone else who’d fought at the museum.
Diane saw people in the water and dove straight in, swimming over to them as Tiamat finally managed to free herself and turn toward me. I turned and ran, hoping to put some distance between her and me, but a jet of purple flame barred my exit and I stopped running just outside the Tate Modern. The purple flame set fire to the nearby trees, the heat easily felt from several feet away.
“I’m going to kill you, little sorcerer!” she seethed, as she climbed over the bridge remains toward me. “You have ruined my wing!”
“Going to ruin a lot more than that,” I told her.
She opened her mouth to breathe more purple flame, and I wrapped myself in air, channeling every ounce of power I had into it as something landed on Tiamat’s head. It was Remy,
who immediately started stabbing his sword into her skull.
“Like irritating bugs!” Tiamat shouted, swiping Remy off her head. He bounced along the ground before smashing through the Tate Modern’s windows.
“Now, where were we?” Tiamat asked.
The earth around me erupted directly into the dragon’s maw as Morgan walked toward it.
“Go check on Remy,” she said. “I’ll keep this one busy.”
I was halfway to Remy when the earth that surrounded Tiamat was torn apart by Morgan’s magic. Tiamat batted most of it aside, and some of it smashed into me, knocking the air out of me.
“More little sorcerers!” the dragon roared. “You will not hurt me!”
Morgan fired more earth at her, but Tiamat replied with her purple flame, and it soon overwhelmed Morgan, forcing her back too close to Tiamat’s massive talons. The dragon flicked Morgan aside with one such talon, her body rag-dolling across the floor until she smashed into and through several trees, vanishing from view. I had no idea if those who had been hurt were alive or dead. And a rage, the likes of which I’d barely felt before, ignited inside of me.
I got to my feet and walked over to Tiamat as I pulled bolts of lightning down onto her, forcing her to retreat to the sky, hovering just above the River Thames. She couldn’t fly too high; her damaged wing made sure of that.
I kept redirecting the lightning through my body, aiming the bolts at Tiamat, who moved closer to land, until she was only a few dozen feet from me. I stopped and watched as she made a noise akin to laughter.
“Is that it?” she bellowed. “Is it my turn now?”
The sound of a rifle-shot tore through the night, followed by a second, and a third. The last of the three struck Tiamat in the eye and she was forced to land back on the relatively solid ground of the bridge remains. I looked across the river to where I thought the shots had originated and saw Mordred on the far bank, rifle in hand. Tiamat turned on him and began pelting the riverside with flame. Mordred disappeared from view behind a large building, and Tiamat turned back to me, putting herself in the middle of where the bridge had once been.
“I have grown weary,” she said, moving ever closer. “I am going to kill you now.”
Behind her Mordred rode a motorcycle toward the bridge. When he reached the part of the bridge closest to him, he used air magic to propel himself and the bike over it, landing on Tiamat’s back, where Mordred lost his balance, but I didn’t see where he ended up.
The riderless bike skidded up Tiamat’s back, impacting with the rear of the dragon’s head before bouncing off onto the ground nearby, where it touched the purple flame that had been smoldering away, and exploded. The light from the fire made the shadows flicker and appear as if they were alive. I made them shoot up from the ground, wrapping around the dragon’s head and neck, tighter and tighter, like reeling in a large fish. She used her flame once, but she couldn’t quite get the aim, so it sailed harmlessly over my head, missing the museum too.
“I am a god!” she screamed, and began moving closer to me.
“Not anymore!” I shouted as she came only a few feet from me. “You hurt my friends!”
Her eye was no more and blood trickled from dozens of wounds she’d sustained, but still she fought, as she got closer and closer until she towered over me.
“You cannot kill me with your shadow magic, sorcerer!” she snapped.
“I wasn’t planning on it,” I explained and removed the shadows. She reared back, which was exactly what I was expecting and I instantly created a soul weapon, driving the jian up into her exposed chest.
From above, Mordred wrapped blood magic around her mouth before using his light magic to blind her other eye. He dropped down beside me and we both ran until we were directly under the dragon. Mordred used his own air magic and sliced open her belly. He looked over at me and nodded. In a heartbeat, I removed my jian, put everything I had into two spheres of magic, and forced them both up into the sliced underbelly of Tiamat.
The magic tore her apart from the inside out. As my elemental magic destroyed her from underneath, we sprinted out from under the dragon, and I collapsed to my knees. Mordred knelt beside me, breathing rapidly. He was as spent as I was. But Tiamat still wasn’t dead.
I pushed myself off the ground, creating a sphere of power between both hands, pouring air, lightning, fire, and shadow into it. I ran toward Tiamat, who opened her mouth, the purple magic pulsating far inside her body.
I avoided the open maw, and drove the sphere toward her ruined eye. At the very last second, I changed it into a blade of brilliant white, crackling energy, and shot the merged energy into her eye. Once inside her skull the magic exploded, tearing the back of her head apart, and continuing on through the top of her spine, as if she’d been hit by a barrage of missiles. Magic continued to pour out of me, and for a heartbeat I wasn’t sure if I could stop it, but within seconds Tiamat’s entire body shuddered from the power I was pouring into her.
I collapsed to the ground, every ounce of magic inside of me spent. My body screamed at me in pain to let it rest. I put my head on the cool grass and concentrated on my breathing. It was then that I looked over at where Morgan had been thrown and forced myself to my feet. I needn’t have worried as she dragged herself onto the grass, looked over at me and winked.
“I’m not certain, but I think being hit by a dragon really hurts,” she said.
“I’m glad you’re alive!” I shouted back. “I need to check on Remy.”
I turned and watched as my fox friend walked out of the Tate Modern like nothing had happened. He brushed some dirt from his tail and waved.
“How is that possible?” I asked as he stood beside me. “You should be broken.”
“Yeah, thanks, Nate. Nice to see you too.”
I grabbed him and hugged him.
“You hug me any longer, you’ll need to buy me food,” he said. “Also, I got a bunch of lives from the witches who did this to me. I think I used a few up, but I’ll be good.”
Tommy walked over. He was drenched and had probably been dragging people out of the river. He was also only wearing a pair of red boxers.
“Mordred wants to talk to you,” he said, his voice tense. “He’s . . . different, isn’t he?”
I nodded. “I don’t exactly know how. He’s not the Mordred I grew up with, but he’s not the insane criminal, either.”
“Are you going to put some clothes on?” Remy asked Tommy. “You’re giving me envious thoughts here.”
“Hey, I’m proud of my body,” Tommy said.
“No shit. You’re wearing silk boxer shorts. Where did you even find boxer shorts out here?”
Morgan laughed and then yelped, before telling them both not to make her laugh.
I left them to their argument and joined Mordred, who was sitting beside Tiamat’s massive jaw. “We just killed a dragon-god. A dragon so old, and so powerful, that other dragons would have looked and gone, ‘Shit, dude. I’m not going near her.’ I think that makes us badasses.”
“That we did. I think the badass motherfuckery was in abundance today.”
He nodded slightly. “Let’s never do that again.”
“Agreed.”
“When we got back, there was something I wanted to tell you. Something I felt you deserved to know.”
I motioned for him to continue.
“Back in Acre: Isabel was my daughter. That’s why Siris went after her. She knew once I found out, I’d never really be on her side. I’d never allow Siris to use my daughter in the attack, so she killed Isabel before I could kill her.”
I’d considered the idea that she was Mordred’s daughter for many years after Acre. “I’m sorry, Mordred. I really am. Thank you for telling me.”
“I’m telling you for two reasons. One, it’s time you knew the truth. And two, I’m going to kill Siris. I’m going to tear her in half. I’m not going to stop until it’s done. So if you need me, that’s where I’ll be: hunting her dow
n and killing everything between me and her. I owe Isabel that much. I wasn’t exactly much of a father. Her mother had been human and had no idea who I was. I liked her, though, genuinely liked her, even in the haze of insanity.” He turned his hand over to show me he’d created a truth rune on his hand. “Just so you know.”
“Can I ask you something while you have that on your hand?”
He nodded.
“How’d you survive the shot to the head?”
“My magic healed me. There was a blood-magic curse mark on me that activated when my heart stopped beating. It used my nightmare, or whatever you want to call it, to keep me alive. The nightmare is gone now, and my magical power has increased in the process. I don’t think the nightmares were ever meant to be something we should be afraid of.”
“My nightmare said the same thing. He said that the magic is our birthright, not our enemy.”
“That’s the impression I got. All I know is that my nightmare cocooned me in magic for the better part of three months while my injuries healed. Physically healed, anyway. And I doubt I’m lucky enough to have the only beneficial nightmare.”
“It’s a lot to think on.”
“This whole thing is a lot to think on. I think I’m going to buy a bottle of Scotch, the world’s biggest bag of fish-and-chips and drink and eat myself into a coma.” He hummed the Mario tune again. “I’m not sure if I want to stop having these little brain things. I quite like having my mind always on the move.” He smiled.
“Good luck, Mordred.”
“To you too, Nate. We’ll be seeing one another soon enough.”
“I’m not going to let the Fates’ prophecy come true. Whoever is pulling my strings, they’re not going to get me to become someone I’m not.”