Tamiel patted his partially scorched shirt. “It’s flame retardant. I anticipated your attack.”
“And you also have a powerful dragon ready to protect you. Do you lack confidence in him?”
Tamiel laughed. “Well played, Sapphira. Very well played. After that master stroke of a question, it would be unseemly and perhaps even traitorous for me to doubt my master’s protective abilities.” He began tapping his phone’s screen. “You have bested me on this point. I am sending my agent a message to stand down until further notice.”
Matt gave Sapphira a firm nod. It really was a master stroke. Obviously she had a lot of experience dealing with monsters like Tamiel and Arramos.
“Still, I have one ace in the hole, as the saying goes.” Tamiel slid his phone back to a pocket. “I gave the wait order, but I also created an unsent message to proceed with the provocation. All I need do is press a single key to send it.”
Matt looked at Tamiel’s fingers. They relaxed at his side.
“Very well.” Sapphira cupped her hands and stared at them. A grapefruit-sized flame blossomed—orange, white, and blue ribbons swirling in a ball. “I feel more strength returning. It shouldn’t be too much longer.”
“Good.” Tamiel walked closer, Arramos trailing by a step or two. Blood still oozed from at least ten pellet holes in his snout and just below his eyes, and his gait appeared unsteady. Whatever was weakening him seemed to be taking hold again.
For the next minute or so, Matt, Tamiel, and Arramos watched Sapphira. Her ball of flame grew slowly but steadily, spinning faster and faster. The flames crackled and sizzled, filling the yard with the din of a hundred campfires.
Matt glanced at Darcy. She still lay in the grass several steps away. Pretending to be unconscious was probably a good idea, but how might she use that ploy? They needed a strategy, something that could take advantage of their enemies’ weaknesses.
The biggest weakness seemed to be in Arramos—his drooping features and loss of firepower. He mentioned smelling one of Semiramis’s potions. Might her potion be the cause of his weakness? At the silo, Semiramis had said she was carrying a potion that would destroy Arramos. Since the nuclear explosion blew her into bits, could the potion have spread this far and weakened Arramos? No other explanation seemed plausible. But was this a good or bad outcome? If the potion hurt Arramos, it probably did the same to Makaidos, Thigocia, and Roxil. Three good dragons weakened versus one evil dragon? Not a good tradeoff.
Something chimed, barely audible in the fireball’s noise. Tamiel pulled out his phone and read the screen. “Excellent. Bonnie Bannister has been spotted only ten miles from us. She is heading this way riding on a dragon.” As he continued reading, his face grew paler. “Another female human is riding with her, but my agent doesn’t recognize her.”
“Perhaps not,” Arramos said, “but I trust that you have discerned who she must be.”
“I have. It seems that the pilot failed in his mission.” Tamiel’s smile looked nervous, forced. “While we’re waiting,” he said to Matt, as he pushed the phone into his pocket, “it would save time if you would retrieve the six keys from wherever you have hidden them and press them together. When your mother arrives, she will be able to open the seventh door without delay.”
Matt eyed Tamiel’s phone pocket. Just a touch of a button would start a holocaust. No sense in arguing with him now. Still, every good soldier knew that the squadron needed an exit strategy. Once he made the key and Mom opened the door, what then? Arramos would kill everyone. Only Sapphira had the ability to battle a dragon, but in her weakened condition, maybe not.
Still, Sapphira said something about using the portal to escape. Maybe they could jump through it and she could close it behind them. That plan might be sketchy, but it was the only exit strategy available.
He withdrew the ring and the sixth key. As he walked toward Darcy, he slid the key onto the ring. He knelt next to her and dug into her camo pants pocket. With his body blocking Tamiel and Arramos from view, she opened her eyes and touched her opposite pocket. A dark bruise on her cheek proved that Tamiel had really hit her hard.
Matt pushed his hand into the other pocket and retrieved her three keys. As Sapphira’s flames continued their noisy song, he took a chance on a whisper. “Darcy, what are you planning?”
“Watching for a chance to strangle that creep.”
Without another word, Matt rose and walked to Tamiel. After putting Darcy’s keys on the ring, he pressed them all together. They sparked and crackled, and their glow brightened, each one emanating its own color. The metal grew hot . . . too hot. Still holding the ring, he let them go, but they stayed together and melded into a single white key that emanated pulses of light, each pulse a different color—blue, orange, green, red, violet, and dark blue, likely indigo. A shimmer ran around its edges as if electrified, but it didn’t carry a shock.
Just a few steps away, Sapphira waved her hands in circles. Her ball of fire swirled around her body and the pole. As the flames thickened, she faded, veiled by the flickering cylindrical wall.
Something black fluttered in the trees. A dark creature twice the size of a vulture sat on a high branch, though it seemed far too big for its flimsy perch. With leathery wings, fangs, and red eyes, it looked just like the drone that crashed through the window at the first motel.
As Matt let his gaze wander across the edge of the forest, more dark forms came into view—twenty, fifty, a hundred, all staring straight at him. Apparently Tamiel had called for reinforcements. This would be a good time to test Sapphira’s theory about Tamiel’s lying gesture.
“I formed the key,” Matt said, “but it’s still too hot to hold.”
“I expected that. It’s the reason I asked you to begin the process early.”
Matt glanced at Tamiel’s hands. His fingers remained motionless. “When my mother comes, she might have powerful allies with her. I mean, how else could she get free from Arramos?” He lifted his brow. “Do you still think Arramos will be enough to fend them off?”
Tamiel gave him a dismissive wave. “Apparently your mother has acquired the services of a single dragon. Let me remind you that my master is the most powerful dragon in existence. I need no other protection.”
Matt glanced again at Tamiel’s hands. On his left, he rubbed a thumb and forefinger together. Perfect. He was well aware of his master’s weakness. This hole in Tamiel’s armor might come in handy, part of a way of escape. When confronted with two powerful enemies, survival strategy called for getting the enemies to quarrel.
“Arramos mentioned something foul in the air that smelled like one of Semiramis’s potions. I think it’s weakening him. At least I could tell that he’s worried about it. Since you didn’t want to talk about it with me around, I assume it’s a bigger weakness than you’re letting on.”
“Silence!” Arramos lashed out with another fiery rope, but it sizzled and died before it reached Matt.
“Interesting.” Matt nodded slowly. “I wonder who could have sprayed a potion that would harm a dragon. None of us would. We want our dragons to come here safely. If it’s one of Semiramis’s brews, Tamiel is the only one who has access to it.”
Tamiel’s fangs reemerged. “You had best be silent. I had nothing to do with my master’s weakness.”
“Does your master believe that?” Matt asked. “He said he was wary of those who allow her to plot her schemes. That would be you, wouldn’t it?”
“Arramos!” Tamiel pointed at Darcy. “Fire or no fire, you can kill that wench. I no longer have need of her.”
“How dare you speak to me as if I am your scullery maid!” Arramos roared. “Perhaps I should consider whether or not I have need of you!”
“Excellency!” Tamiel gestured toward Matt. “This vermin is intentionally driving a wedge between us. In anger at his scheme, I directed hasty verbiage toward you. I apologize for my misdirected fury, but I was merely trying to defend our
faithful relationship and unbreakable bond.”
Arramos’s brow bent into a deep scowl. “You are quick to recover, Tamiel, and I will overlook your ill-advised command, but if I were to kill that girl, it would appear that I am doing your bidding.”
“I understand, and of course you are right.” Tamiel turned toward Darcy. “I will gladly kill her myself.”
“Wait!” Matt held up the key, now cool enough to hold. “If you so much as touch her, you’ll never get this. I can hide it where you’ll never find it, and the seventh door will stay closed forever.”
Tamiel pivoted back to him, a wicked smile on his face. “I see that your fondness for that worthless prostitute has elevated. Have you decided to take a liking to members of the opposite sex?”
Matt’s ears burned. “Just leave her alone, and I’ll cooperate. I’m not saying anything more.”
“Very well, but you will not be able to hold your cooperation over my head much longer.” Tamiel stepped within reach and growled, “If you utter one more word that disparages my master or me, you will have signed death warrants for yourself and Darcy.”
“Okay. Okay. Let’s just get on with it.” Matt averted his eyes. That little exercise nearly cost Darcy her life, but at least he had succeeded in raising Arramos’s suspicions.
Tamiel turned toward Sapphira. “Is the portal opening?”
“Slowly. It feels like a door with rusted hinges, like it’s never been opened before.”
“That is a correct evaluation. The door on the other side of this portal is designed to keep intruders out and to bar its contents from escaping. No one has ever opened it, so the portal window that protects it has been sealed for thousands of years.” Tamiel’s fingers stayed motionless again. “Not only that, it is unlike other portals for a reason that I will explain soon.”
As Sapphira continued waving her arms, she grunted with the effort, but the flames kept spinning, never slowing.
Matt gripped the key in his fist. What else could he do to fan the flames of suspicion? His gaze drifted across the drones as they perched lazily in the trees. They would do just fine. But he had to be careful. Darcy was still vulnerable. “Tamiel, I noticed your reinforcements.”
Tamiel glanced at the forest. “Oh, those?” he said with a nonchalant air. “You need not worry about them. They are drones, completely under my control. They will attack at my command or withdraw whenever I wish. As long as you continue cooperating, they will stay where they are.”
Arramos stared at Tamiel, his eyes aflame, but he said nothing.
“Just wondering.” Matt reattached the key ring to his belt loop. “Since you said you needed only Arramos, I was kind of surprised to see them.”
Arramos growled. “So was I.”
Tamiel rubbed a thumb and finger together. “There are three dragons unaccounted for—Makaidos, Thigocia, and Roxil. Should they come, these drones are here to counter them.”
“The drones would be helpful in such a battle,” Arramos said, though his skeptical tone continued. “But they are stupid beasts. Unpredictable. I am quite capable without their help.”
“Excellency, as soon as you showed signs of weakness, I summoned them. I did so to honor your exalted position, not to show distrust or belittle you. You are far too important to—”
“Your flattering tongue does not impress me, Tamiel. I introduced flattery to this world. I am the master of it.” Arramos snorted. “But we can continue this conversation in private.”
“Yes, of course.” Tamiel shifted uneasily. “You will be glad to know that drones are also flying about watching for Bonnie Bannister.” His eyes widened. “Ah! It seems that Sapphira is nearly finished with her task.”
Matt smirked. Tamiel changed the subject in a hurry. Although the two enemies didn’t come to blows, at least a second seed of discord had been planted.
Sapphira’s flaming cyclone spread out into a curtain that stretched from one side of the yard to the other and upward to five times her height. She stood inches in front of the pole, her arms spread as if conducting the expanding flames.
The ground shook. A rumbling sound followed, like thunder, only deeper, rougher, like grinding stones. As if reeled in by a spring, the curtain of flames collapsed toward Sapphira’s pole and wrapped around it, exposing a dark rocky cliff where the curtain had been. Leafy vines adhered to its surface, dense near the ground and thinning as they reached toward the top—a ledge about thirty feet up.
Sapphira staggered back and leaned against the cliff, panting. “I . . . I did it.”
Her knees buckled, and she drooped forward. Matt leaped and caught her. As he held her up, white locks fell over her eyes. She pointed at the pole and whispered, “Extinguish.”
The fire shrank from top to bottom and sizzled near the ground. The pole broke at the base and toppled over.
Still holding Sapphira, Matt glared at Tamiel. “Okay. That’s done. Now what?”
“We await your mother.” Tamiel stepped up to the cliff and touched the vine-covered, rocky face. “As Sapphira can attest, there is no longer a portal here. It was designed to be pierced only once, and opening it dragged the realms together.”
Sapphira pulled away from Matt and stood on her own. “I no longer sense a portal. He’s not lying.”
“At this point,” Tamiel said, “I have no need to lie.”
Matt checked Tamiel’s hands. No finger rubbing. So much for jumping through the portal to escape. They would have to come up with a new plan.
Tamiel pulled a curtain of vines to the side, revealing a wooden double door. Sparks ignited near the left-hand door’s upper left corner and burned into the wood. Like fiery termites, the sparks inched along and left a smoky trail. As the smoke cleared, revealing a letter A, a new splash of sparks erupted to the letter’s right and began etching a second letter that slowly took the shape of a lowercase b.
Soon, sparks blossomed on both doors in two rows, sizzling as they gnawed deeply into the grain and veiled the upper portion of the doors in smoke. After a few moments, the sizzles faded, and the smoke blew away.
Matt read the series of block letters silently—Abandon All Hope Ye Who Enter Here.
“The quote is from Dante’s Inferno,” Tamiel said with a casual air. “It seems that Abaddon hopes to frighten away any pretender who would attempt entry without proper credentials.” He pulled an iron ring embedded in the left-hand door, rattling a huge padlock that joined the ring to its twin in the opposite door. Dull yellow, as if coated with rust, the lock shook with the rings. The door eased out an inch or so before being stopped by the lock. Bright light shone through a gap between the doors, as if a star blazed somewhere inside.
“Secure. As expected.” While Tamiel broke more vines, apparently to make a permanent access to the door, he continued in a storyteller’s cadence. “When Bonnie opens the seventh door, which I have deemed The Forever Fall, you will be able to see the abyss. As I alluded to earlier, for many centuries a powerful force has awaited this day to bring wrath upon those who have rebelled against God. This force dwells in ferocious anticipation and will swarm over the earth. It will bypass you because you are protected, but I advise you to stand back when it is unleashed.” “Is it safe to look inside?” Matt asked.
“I see no problem with that. The force within cannot leave until the lock is removed.”
Matt stepped up to the door and peered through the gap. Inside, the light shifted at various spots, as if a hundred spoons stirred a cauldron of blinding energy. He backed away, blinking. “Nothing. It’s way too bright.”
“If you are satisfied . . .” Tamiel gazed upward. “Now we will wait for the bearer of the song, that is, what’s left of it.”
Matt scanned the sky. A single drone flew across the reddish-blue canopy and alighted on a high branch. Could that have been the agent that spotted Mom? If so, she shouldn’t be far away now. And who might the other female be? Ashley? Lauren? Either o
ne seemed impossible.
He looked at the door and its dark, forbidding rings and lock. His eyes then wandered to the enigmatic words. Abandon All Hope Ye Who Enter Here. Although Tamiel assumed that Abaddon had prepared the statement as a scare tactic, that explanation didn’t make sense. Why would anyone be crazy enough to enter? He would have to be out of his mind.
In any case, Mom would soon arrive and decide whether or not to allow a nuclear war or unleash a horrendous plague of torturing locusts. Either way, a catastrophe would explode across the world in just a few minutes.
Chapter 20
ALPHA DRAGON
Marilyn touched a handgun in a holster at her hip, probably for the tenth time this hour. Pacing the floor while watching a mad scientist work had that effect, especially when the only lights in the room emanated from Larry’s monitors and the flashing LEDs on his panels. With eerie shadows shifting as Mardon moved, it seemed that at any second he might create a poisonous explosion that would kill her and Jared while he escaped just in time, cackling in delight.
In reality, Mardon stood at a table and painstakingly mixed chemicals derived from various household and garden products, as well as leaves and weeds from the yard. A pot of soil no bigger than a bowling ball sat on the floor under the table’s edge, though he hadn’t yet explained how he would use it. Sweat on his scarred brow indicated anxiety or fear, a good sign. He knew he was being watched.
“Are you sure you don’t want a flashlight?” she asked. “Or candles?”
“I prefer working in a dim chamber. I created masterpieces of genetic ingenuity in such conditions ages ago.”
Marilyn rolled her eyes. Whatever Mardon lacked in integrity, he made up for in confidence. In any case, he had proved his skill many times, and saving lights and candles helped the cause. With the generator low on fuel and Adam out searching for more, they couldn’t afford to waste anything.
Jared stood next to Larry’s light energy collection tube—a suction device Ashley installed years ago to mimic a similar unit she once had in an underground laboratory in Montana. Dressed only in gym shorts, he held Excalibur with both hands, the blade upright in front of his face. His body structure looked so unlike it did only a couple of weeks ago—muscle tone had atrophied, making his skin, now pallid and mottled, sag in places. Age spots covered his hands and shoulders, and body hair had turned gray from head to toe. The parasite and its toxins had devastated him. He was far from the robust and ruddy Jared Bannister of the past, even the recent past.