Dragon-Ridden (22 page)

Night snarled when her arm sunk up
to her elbow into the stone. He was on his feet and trying to pull her back
when the entire wall flared with light and they both fell through.

The stone clung to Tate’s skin and
clothes like sticky honey before abruptly she was on the other side.

Tate spun around expecting to see
the Tsuchigon looming out of the dark and instead was greeted by the smooth
façade of stone. She put one hand out and touched it, half expecting to fall
through the wall again. Instead, she felt the solidness of real stone that was
impenetrable, no matter how hard she pushed.

Strange. Amazing, but strange. Very
timely too, she had no doubt Night and her would be wrapped in a cocoon of silk
waiting their turn on the dinner menu if they hadn’t fallen through a solid
wall.

Night groaned softly at her feet,
regaining consciousness. He’d passed out during the passage through the wall,
the shock of which had been great. Tate bent to help him.  A sharp growl
was her only warning, before he lashed out with claws filled with lethal
intent. She barely stumbled back in time to prevent being bloodied.

“Night! Night! It’s me. Tate,” she
said backing away with her hands held palm out to show she was unarmed.

Night’s eyes focused on her, his
growls fading with recognition.
Tate?

“Yeah,” she said relieved.

His tail and ears drooped.
Sorry.
I didn’t recognize you. Thought you were the Tsuchigon.

Tate snorted. “I don’t know whether
to be relieved or appalled. I’ve never been mistaken for a many legged monster
before.”

Where?
he asked, noticing
the room they were in for the first time.

“I was kind of hoping you could
tell me,” she said. “This being your territory and all.”

He shook his head as baffled by the
turn of events as she was.

They’d fallen through the wall into
a perfectly round room. Unlike the rest of the tunnels, the walls here were
built with a white rock that was put together seamlessly. Even the sharpest eye
would be unable to distinguish where one rock began and another ended.

Brighter than the tunnels, the
light here was softer and more serene. Tate ventured into the middle of the
room, noticing a table made of an impossibly thin metal. A clear, white
material coated every inch of the room including the walls and ceiling.

“Have you ever seen anything like
this?” she asked looking around. The ceiling was at least ten feet above their
head, and there was a faint whir of sound that had been absent in the tunnels.

No. Whoever built this made sure
it wouldn’t be discovered, though,
Night said, prowling the edge of the
room.
There’s no way out that I can see or feel.

“Great.”

Tate fought to keep her head. Just
because there appeared to be no exit didn’t mean there wasn’t one. She hadn’t
seen the entrance either until she’d fallen through it. There was no reason to
assume that it’d be any different now.

Idly she said, “I’ve noticed that
you’re thinking in full sentences more often now.”

He made a chirrup of agreement.
The
more we talk the better my speech will get.

Made sense.

She ran a hand over one of the
tables watching as it lit up. The lights followed her fingers. She inspected
one finger. No dust. No dirt. Normally she would have assumed the cleanliness
of the chamber was a sign of people, but this entire place defied convention.

She tapped on the table again, its
coating feeling similar to glass. Once again it lit up in response to her
touch. Curious. She ‘hmmd’ to herself. With both hands she made several
slashing motions across the glass, strange symbols followed close after each
color. Beeeeeeeep. There was a loud warning screech, and the entire glass lit
up with red. Tate jumped back afraid she’d broken it.

“Uh-oh. You broke it,” a female
voice said from behind her.

Tate screamed and danced away from
the voice. Night covered the distance of the room in a leap, landing in a
crouch at her side and snarling at the stranger. A young girl no more than 15
regarded the two of them from a sweet looking face that was completely serene.
There was something off with her, however. It wasn’t just that she was serene;
it was like no expression had ever touched those features, leaving it unmarked
with human life.

Creator’s spawn
, Night
hissed.
She has no presence. None. I can’t sense her, nor smell her, nor
hear her heart beat. If it wasn’t for my eyes, I’d say she wasn’t even there.

The girl had long brown hair that
hung to her mid back. Her skin shown with a luminescent sheen against a set of
simple trousers and a plain shirt, clothing nearly identical to Tate’s. She
regarded them from inscrutable eyes and let her lips tip into a smile. The
movement was isolated to her lips, not affecting any other muscle in her face.
It was like a puppet master was manipulating her face, isolating each feature
from the rest.

Dangerous,
Tate’s dragon
said.
Ghost.

“I wasn’t expecting you so soon,”
the girl told Tate.

“Who are you?” Tate asked. She
backed up half a step, unsettled that the stranger seemed to know her. “Do you
know me?”

The girl tilted her head and looked
quizzically at Tate. The effect fell flat, reminding Tate of a doll pretending
at human emotion. “The better question is do you know me?”

“I don’t.”

The girl didn’t respond as her
focus turned in on herself.

Night edged closer to Tate, his bulk
brushing against her leg. He was seriously frightened of the girl for no reason
Tate could discern. The stranger was creepy and odd but unarmed. It still
remained to be seen how she got into the room without alerting either of them
to her presence, but in a fight the two of them held the advantage.

“This variable has been provided
for and while not optimal is not unexpected,” the girl said.

“I don’t understand,” Tate said,
stepping forward. This stranger knew her. If she had answers, Tate wanted them.

“You will in time, Tatum Alegra
Winters.”

“That name,” Tate whispered. It was
hers or so similar to it that it resonated. Tears filled her eyes. A sense of
recognition so deep welled up until she couldn’t believe she’d forgotten her
name even for a moment. Other memories crowded round just out of reach. There
but still hidden. She strained, trying to reach them only to have them float
away as insubstantial and delicate as torn cobwebs.

Not all of it. Not my name,
the dragon whispered.
Not mine.
The dragon moved restlessly, lashing its
tail in agitation. Tate rested a hand on it, stilling its movement. Soon, she
whispered to it. We’ll have the answers soon.

And they would. This was the start.
The one piece of information that proved there was hope.

The girl walked closer, seeming to
glide over the floor, her feet hardly touching it. She studied Tate closely.

“You are both less and more than I
was led to expect,” the stranger said finally.

Tate licked her lips. There was so
much to ask that she didn’t know where to begin. She practically quivered from
the force of her curiosity.

“You seem to know who I am, but I’m
afraid I’m at a lost as to you,” Tate finally said.

Once again the girl seemed to think
of her answer, as if consulting some inner counselor. “I am Ai.” As if Tate
held no more interest to her, Ai turned her attention to Night, who remained in
his crouch throughout their conversation.

“1100 series,” she said
thoughtfully. “You’re thriving better than projected. None of the previous
abnormalities are evident, perhaps due to the effects of stasis.”

“Hey!” Tate shouted, stepping in
front of Night. “I’ve come too far searching for answers, and you look like you
know something about both of us. I want to know what you know. No more games.
Out with it.”

Ai stared down at where Night would
have been if Tate hadn’t moved in front of him. With an abrupt movement she met
Tate’s eyes. Suddenly she was inches away from Tate, her ice blue eyes filling
Tate’s vision.

Tate hadn’t seen Ai move. One
moment she was a few feet away, the next standing close enough to touch if
either breathed too deeply. Tate fought to keep from taking a step back.
Perhaps it hadn’t been a great idea to antagonize the creepy lady.

“I have already told you. You will
understand with time.”

“Why can’t you tell me?” Tate asked
through numb lips.

Ai’s eyes were filled with an alien
awareness, tiny pinpricks of light were visible if one looked deep enough. She
smiled wistfully, the first totally human expression to cross her face since
appearing before the two. “You do not like me,” Ai said instead of answering
the question.

It threw Tate off balance, coming
out of nowhere as it did. Whether the strange woman engendered feelings of like
or dislike were a moot point to Tate, when what she wanted was information.

She was tempted to tell Ai that she
did like, her, but something warned her that Ai would know if she lied. “I
don’t know if I like you or not. I’ve really just met you,” Tate said
haltingly. It wasn’t the truth, but it wasn’t entirely a lie either.

Ai’s face settled into the bland
emptiness of before. “You are kind. Just like he said you would be. He said the
lack of human expression would engender feelings of distrust and anxiety.”

“Who’s he?” Seeing that she didn’t
intend to answer, Tate suggested, “Maybe all you need is practice.”

“Perhaps. May I practice with you?”

The question made Ai seem very
innocent, and Tate had the sense she needed to tread carefully here. They were
in a room and had so far not found any indication on how to escape. Their only
chance at getting out might be the waiflike girl standing in front of her, and
she got the feeling that, Ai, very like a child, wouldn’t care how much her
request inconvenienced others. “Maybe some other time. Right now I have to help
my friend.”

“You need to get to the Red Lady to
rescue the cubs,” Ai said, her voice devoid of emotion.

How did you know that?
Night
shouted, aggression pouring off him.

“I watched. And listened, 1162.”

How can you hear me?
He
growled menacingly but didn’t move from his position.

Once again Ai gave her creepy
smile. “How could I not? You are shouting very loudly.”

Tate gestured for him to stop. “How
do you know Night?” she asked, taking a different tact hoping that Ai would
answer the question.

“1100 series, bred for aggression
and fighting skills. Originally intended as scouts or sentries. Talented
climbers and better regeneration capabilities then the 1010 series. Previous
genetic defects have seemingly disappeared, possibly as a result of prolonged
exposure to chemical compound H3fc2. This may hold true for the others as
well.”

“Others? What others?” Tate asked,
only understanding about a third of what she’d said.

“The others are considered
exponentially more dangerous with a factor of three on the Hadrian scale. I
will not be able to keep them asleep much longer, Tatum Alegra Winters. The key
must be found or the four will not stand.”

“Asleep? Do you mean to tell me
that you’re the one who is responsible for taking our memories, our lives from
us?” Tate shouted. “Is that it, Ai?”

“I cannot answer that question,
Tatum Alegra Winters.”

Tate turned over what she had said
in her head. “Tell me something, Ai?” she pleaded.

Ai tilted her head, once again
having a private consult in her mind. “I woke 1162 and the ones you call the
Tsuchigon as well as many others. I did not wake you nor know who did.”

Tate closed her eyes. It was
something. Not much, but something. More than she’d had this morning. Or was it
yesterday morning? It felt like they’d been wandering the tunnels for days.

She struggled to find gratitude for
what scraps of information she had obtained but wanted more.

“You must go, Tatum Alegra
Winters,” Ai said abruptly.

She’s right, Tate, my cubs need
our help before it’s too late,
Night urged.

“We can’t go yet,” Tate said
desperately. “I haven’t found anything out yet.”

“Nevertheless, you must go.” Ai’s
face was expressionless as she raised one hand, palm facing out to them. An
unseen force smashed into Tate’s chest sending her flying back, Night following
her. Instead of crashing into the wall, she sailed through it as if it didn’t
exist.

“You must look below the surface
for that which you seek,” Ai’s voice echoed softly throughout the room.

She landed in a pile on the tunnel
floor, Night tumbling down inches from her. She bounded to her feet and raced
to the now solid rock, pounding her fists against it.

“Let me in,” she screamed, her
knuckles scraped and bleeding from attacking the stone. She didn’t let that
stop her as she drove her body against it again, and again. “Let me in. We
aren’t finished.”

Night latched onto the cloth of her
pants and dragged her back.
Tate, we must go. Shh. Shh, now.

Tears rolled silently down her face
as he dragged her further away.

“I will find the answers,” she
whispered.

Tate had withdrawn into silence as
she kept pace with Night’s ground eating stride. Not being able to find out
more about her past had been a devastating blow. She needed those answers,
wanted them, yearned for them. It was difficult to focus on what needed to be
done, but she did. Because it was important.

Though it hurt, there was a
positive side to all this. Now she knew that someone had the answers. Finding
them could wait. For now.

Ai had deposited them right on the
edge of the Red Lady’s territory away from any of Lucius’ men or the Tsuchigon.
How Night knew their location was a mystery. To Tate, every tunnel was
identical to the last. But he assured her he knew right where they were.