Chapter 22

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

I flailed out with my magic, grabbing for Nash.

I missed.

That was because the black dragon swooped in and snatched Nash out of the air just as my bolt of light reached him. The dragon flapped hard to gain height, and I fell on my butt on the freezing concrete.

More magic coiled inside me, seeking release. So it had done years ago, when it had blasted out and caught an outbuilding on my school grounds on fire.

I really didn't want to burn down any houses or the ponderosa pines in this little park, so I let the power fly straight up into the air. The ball of fire rose and rose into the blackness, until it burst like a firework.

With any luck people would think someone was doing a display, which was highly illegal in this town. That meant cops might arrive soon.

I tried to climb to my feet and couldn't. The storm, which had burst briefly over the mountains, now flowed west, moving toward Williams to wreak havoc there. My Stormwalker power eased out with it, leaving the Beneath magic sparking and crackling inside me by itself.

A man walked out of the park's darkness and leapt lightly into the skateboard pit.

It was Titus, not wearing a stitch. He gazed down at me with eyes that were luminous gray, then reached a hand to help me up.

"Don't touch me," I warned him.

Titus misunderstood. "I mean you no harm, Janet."

"No, I mean don't because I might kill you without meaning to. I'm not exactly in control right now."

"Ah." Titus took a respectful step back. "If you are physically unharmed, then I will let you rise when you are ready."

"Appreciate it." I struggled to tamp down the Beneath magic that wanted me to kill the dragon then flatten the trees and the houses beyond, regardless of how many humans resided in them. "What the hell are you doing here, anyway? You can't fight these things."

"We received word from Colby that you went off to foolishly meet the Phantomwalkers on your own. You took Colby out of action but gave no such command to us."

"Because I didn't think you'd be stupid enough to try to fight an enemy you can't kill," I snapped at him.

"Mmm." Titus nodded as though I'd said something wise. "But you and your null-magic human bringing a decoy to meet with an unpredictable enemy is intelligent?"

"Fair point," I said grudgingly.

"Also, you were having trouble rescuing the null-magic human. So, our arrival was fortuitous."

"It was." I had to concede that too. I had counted on Nitis to back us up, but I guessed he either didn't get my message or decided not to respond for reasons of his own.

I heard bad language being snarled under the trees before Nash stalked out of the darkness. The flashlight on his phone illuminated his muddy body and blood-streaked face. Drake, as clothes-less as Titus, followed at a discreet distance.

"Drake dropped me about six feet," Nash informed me, which explained his muddy state. "Though, since I could have fallen fifty, I appreciate the save."

Nash nodded stiffly at Drake, who gave him an equally stiff nod in return.

"Sorry, Nash," I said. "The plan was for you not to get hurt."

"Doesn't matter," Nash answered. "We figured out what they were up to."

I stilled. "We did?"

Nash's expression was grim. "This was a diversion. For us. They knew you'd never give up the egg. So what did they need us not to see?"

Titus answered. "Perhaps they are taking Mick deeper into hiding."

Not what I wanted to hear. I put a hand down to push myself up, and it sank into cold, black mud.

Sirens erupted on the road above us, the Flagstaff police coming to see what was going on. Nash reached for me.

"No," I said quickly. "I'm a live wire."

"Don't be stupid." Nash grabbed me under the arms and hauled me to my feet. "We need to go."

I tried to push away from him, but Nash had more physical strength than anyone human I knew. He held me firmly, and all my Beneath plus residual Stormwalker magic flowed straight into him.

I endeavored to contain it, but to no avail. Nash's body lit up like a ghost on its best haunting night. Snakes of electricity popped from me through him to reach for Drake and Titus, who evaded them with dragon grace.

Then the null magic in Nash clamped around for my out-of-control entwined power and swallowed it whole. The fury inside me died, and the light winked out.

I scrambled away from Nash. The reason I'd not wanted him to drain my pent-up magic wasn't because I worried it would hurt him—I knew from experience it would not—but because it always made me horny. Whenever Mick helped ease me down, it was a wild and wicked time.

Nash, as irritating as he could be, was a hot, fit man, and the turbulent Beneath goddess inside me sometimes didn't care how she calmed herself.

But I loved Mick, my dragon-man with the hot blue eyes, Maya was my friend, and Nash was … Nash.

The goddess in me looked for the dragons, but they'd gone. Either they were sensible enough to fly the hell out of here before the cops showed up, or they were avoiding the weirdness that was me.

A surge of watery fear erased the vestiges of the Beneath goddess's needs. Mick had been taken somewhere by these creatures, and if they killed him, it would destroy me. The Phantomwalkers had killed Cesnia, I was certain, who by all accounts had been one hell of a dragon. What was to say Mick could withstand them any better than she could?

And where was Nitis? Was he in truth one of the Phantomwalkers himself? Had he really destroyed them whenever he'd fought them or only pretended to, so I'd trust him?

I needed to talk to Grandmother.

"Let's get out of here," I said breathlessly to Nash.

"Don't run," Nash commanded as I started jogging in the direction of our vehicles. "It makes you look like you were doing something illegal."

Was blasting a phantom with lightning, watching a bowling ball be destroyed, and wildly tossing magic around illegal? Probably. I'd buy Fremont a new, nicer ball even if he insisted it wouldn't be necessary. It was only right.

Fat flakes of snow, no longer blown by the stiff wind, drifted lazily under the downward-facing lights of the parking lot.

There was enough illumination to show me that Nash's new truck had been caved in by one of the Phantomwalker's falling limbs, probably a wing. The wing had disintegrated, and a thick dusting of pale ash coated the wreck of the pickup.

Nash emerged behind me. I heard his sharp intake of breath, then his language blistered the air.

He wouldn't blame me for being captured and nearly killed, for letting us spring an obvious trap, or for his fall when Drake let him go. But this—another of his beloved trucks ruined during the adventures of Janet Begay—this was going to be all my fault.

Add a new vehicle to my bill along with a custom-made bowling ball. This was turning out to be an expensive night.

Nash had to ride back to Magellan on my motorcycle, where he clung to me and grumbled about my driving. He'd insisted on pausing at a twenty-four-hour truck stop on the freeway before we departed so he could purchase a motorcycle helmet, since I didn't have a spare. It was very late, and when we entered, truckers stared at us in our unkempt state.

"Bad night for driving, isn't it?" the young man at the cash register said. He was Hopi, with a sunny nature and big smile. "We have showers for twelve bucks if you want one."

"No, thank you," Nash said. He handed over his card for the helmet, and the young man rang it up.

"Be careful out there on the road. Nice bike," he said to me.

"Thank you." I smiled, trying to be friendly in return, though I was so exhausted I could barely see.

"You folks have a nice night," the young man chirped.

"You too," I said.

Nash grabbed the helmet and strode out the door. I lingered to slam down some cash and grab a granola bar that I stuffed into my mouth as I hurried after him. As scared and tired as I was, working magic like that made me ravenous.

Mick and I usually wound ourselves together for a while after a night like this then went out for a huge breakfast. I blinked back tears, choked down the granola bar, and started up the bike to head east to Magellan.

We made it home in the small hours of the morning, dawn not far away. The hotel was quiet, the party done, the saloon closed. Hopefully all the guests were snug in bed. I did not see Gabrielle or Colby, which probably meant they were tucked in as well.

Cassandra and Pamela had remained—they had their own room if Cassandra worked late. They were still up, Pamela regarding me with impatient eyes. Cassandra had the egg next to her in the upgraded bowling bag. I heard nothing from inside and so deduced the little dragon was asleep.

Elena and Grandmother were awake… their voices emanated from the kitchen.

Nash sank into a chair, for once showing exhaustion, but I found the energy to stride through the lobby and slap open the kitchen door.

"Where is Nitis?" I demanded.

Grandmother looked up at me from where she sat on a chair watching Elena chop peppers for the morning's omelets. She appeared fresh and lively for a woman who'd been awake all night.

"I do not know," Grandmother said without worry. "I am not his keeper."

"You asked me to trust him. He wasn't anywhere near when a Phantomwalker found us, and we barely survived."

Elena paused her knife to survey me up and down. "You did, though, didn't you?"

"Yes," I said in exasperation. "Thanks to Drake and Titus. Nash would have been a smear on the sidewalk if not for them."

Elena returned to chopping, her hand a blur as the knife rat-a-tat-tatted on the cutting board. "There is your answer."

"You're saying Nitis sent them? "

"I don't know," Grandmother answered stubbornly. "Why don't you speak to the Firewalkers about it?"

I couldn't, because they'd flown off who knew where. "I asked you this before, but I have to ask again. Who is Nitis? Where did he come from? How do you know he's on our side?"

"I don't think he's on anyone's side," Grandmother said. "He showed up one day, cawing at me, so arrogant. He was irritating, but I saw no reason to drive him away."

"Even though you knew nothing about him?" It wasn't like Grandmother to simply accept someone without years of watching them in suspicion first.

"He's not an evil creature," Grandmother answered. "I can tell that. We're not like you young people who ‘gurgle' everyone on the computer the minute we meet them."

She meant look them up on the internet, but I didn't correct her. I doubted I'd find much about the real Nitis there anyway.

I hoisted myself onto a stool at the counter and buried my face in my hands. "I'm no closer to finding Mick."

"Aren't you?" Elena asked.

I peeked at her through my fingers. She put fragrant peppers, chopped into perfect quarter-inch cubes, into a bowl and squeezed lime juice over them.

"They could have taken him anywhere." Despair again seeped through me, and in my tired state, I couldn't fight it.

"Not anywhere," Grandmother said. "They'd want to be close enough that you can bring the egg to them."

"That doesn't mean they'll honor their bargain to release him," I returned. "Why do they want the egg so badly? What harm can one baby dragon do?"

"They grow up to be big dragons," Elena said. She added chopped onions to the pepper mixture and stirred it into a fragrant relish. People came from miles around to try her salsas. "This baby is supposed to kill Mick when he's older, remember?"

"According to Nitis. No one else seems to know that legend."

Grandmother at last looked uncomfortable, as though realizing she might have trusted Nitis a bit too much.

As I'd observed before, Grandmother was lonely. Dad had finally left home for the first time at age fifty-five. My aunts dropped in on Grandmother every day, taking it in rotation, and Gabrielle stayed there on occasion, but otherwise, she was alone. Like Carl Jones, she had no desire to leave her little house for a big apartment complex for seniors.

Nitis hanging around must have assuaged her feelings of being neglected. Everyone in her family was busy living their own lives, while she went on by herself.

"I'm sorry, Grandmother," I said.

Grandmother focused her dark-eyed stare on me. "For what?"

"Everything, I guess."

She frowned. "The entire world's unfairness is not your fault. It is vain of you to think so."

"I'm trying to apologize for leaving home, Grandmother. Let me at least say sorry without being scolded."

"You needed to leave home," Grandmother said, as though surprised at my contrition. "Your powers were going to hurt someone, and you had to learn to control them. Your father and I had taught you all we could. You needed Jamison Kee to guide you, and then Mick, and others you met along the way. If you'd stayed home, you'd have burned down our house at some point. I knew that, and Pete did too."

"Oh." Dad had cried when I'd left—at least, he'd gazed at me with sorrow in his moist eyes. Grandmother hadn't been happy, though she'd gone with me to the BIA office to do the paperwork for my scholarship to attend NAU. The whole family had joined us that day, in fact.

"We got along fine without you," Grandmother informed me. "The universe does not revolve around you, young lady." Her favorite line when I'd been an uncertain teenager.

I swallowed. "Then thank you for letting me go. Knowing you and Dad were there, in that house, was my anchor. I knew I could always go back home, to eat your wonderful stew, and walk with Dad and just be quiet with him."

I was crying now, silent tears streaking down my cheeks. Elena tore off a paper towel and handed it to me.

"You couldn't have come back if you'd burnt our house down," Grandmother said, ever practical. "The pictures you sent to your father and me were nice."

After college, I'd earned a living taking art photos, beautiful black-and-whites, and some in color, of the natural beauty of the world. I'd started in the Indian lands, and then took more around the country after I'd met Mick.

I longed to return to my photography, but I hadn't had much time, what with saving the world from every creature that wanted to destroy me, my family, dragons, whoever, and then getting ready to marry Mick.

Elena turned to the stove, heating oil in a pan. A stack of tortillas rested by her elbow. "What do you want us to do?" she asked over her shoulder. "You came in here to berate us, so you must expect us to do something to help you."

"I need to find Mick." My heart wrenched. "What do I do?"

"Start looking," was Elena's brief answer. She sliced the tortillas into strips and tossed them into the hot oil, where they sizzled with a satisfying aroma. "Where would be the most likely spot?"

"They wanted me to bring the egg to Canyon Diablo," I said.

"That place is full of ghosts," Grandmother said. "Trashy ones. It was a wild town in its day."

"I'm not sure they meant the ghost town as much as the canyon itself." I scrubbed hands through my dirty hair, trying to put aside my fears, and think . "Which covers a lot of ground." I hopped from the stool and paced, my thoughts turning to plans instead of panic.

Vistas.

The whisper of the mirror in my pocket, which was followed by a faint tinkle of glass in the saloon, startled me. I pulled out the shard.

"What?" I glared into the mirror. My angry dark eyes blazed back at me. "What vistas?"

I abruptly remembered it babbling about the scenery when Carl had taken off on Mick's motorcycle. Why was it bringing that up now? It wouldn't unless it was significant, right? Then again, the mirror could be off in some dreamy delusion.

"Waves in the rock. Too many shadows." The shard jumped in my hand, and the mirror in the saloon jangled again. "The danger followed him there and decided to stay."