The Last Dragon Lord

XIX

XIX

Lucan was irritable on the ride to the factory. His shoulder was killing him.

Miri hadn’t been able to take her eyes off his sling. She was incredulous and had watched in disbelief as he told her about Detective Shalewood’s questions.

His phone vibrated. A reminder to take his pills. He groaned and reached into his suit coat, pulling out an orange bottle of pills.

He preferred to use restorative magic, but the costs were too severe and with an open wound like his, the effects would be aggravated.

He swallowed two thick white pills, winced as he swallowed.

“I hate these things,” he said.

“I still think you should be resting,” Miri said.

Lucan rested his head against the seat. “Yeah, I’ll do that and let everything go to shit.” He c****d one eye open. “So tell me. What’s the plan with the dragon? What do we do? Play good cop, bad cop? Torture?”

Miri chewed her lip and scribbled some notes on her notepad. The page was full of writing, and he wondered what she was doing writing at a time like this.

“He lied to us. So we lie to him.”

“You’re full of surprises,” Lucan said.

“Dragon basics.”

“What do we tell him?”

Miri showed him the notes. It was a timeline with a number of steps, and arrows linking the steps together in ways that he didn’t understand.

“Our mistake was that Old Dark was several steps ahead of us,” Miri said. “That was my fault. I let the fact that my life’s work was living and breathing right in front of me—it distracted me. Somehow Dark sensed it. I forgot even the most basic teachings that I tell my students.”

“Okay. You messed up. Now what?”

“Lying to me was risky for him because he’s in a strange new place and he’s severely injured,” Miri said. “I was the only one he could trust and he knew that.”

“He obviously didn’t care.”

“He wouldn’t have done it if he didn’t have a reason to take a gamble,” Miri said.

“Killing your crew was a gamble?”

“They’re not dead,” Miri said. “Jasmine sent me a message and told me they were okay. I’m going to call her tonight for an update.”

“Whatever it was, I hope to God this doesn’t end up on the evening news, because if it does, we’re all screwed,” Lucan said.

“Whatever his gamble was, it worked,” Miri said.

Miri tapped the page. On the timeline were two ticks with the words trust and gamble, followed by a large question mark.

“We know his mind is still sharp,” she said. “So we hit him where he’s weakest.”

“Which is?”

Miri grinned. “His ego.”

“Geez. You’re worse than I thought. What do you have in mind?”

Miri’s phone rang. She looked at it, frowned and then silenced it.

“Who is it?” Lucan asked.

“Laner,” Miri said, frowning. “From the job site. It can wait.”

They huddled over her plan as Earl turned off the highway onto the long outer road that led to the factory.

Earl perked up. “You hear that?”

He rolled down the window, letting the night air in. Suddenly a distant blaring ripped into the car, taking them all off guard.

It was the sound of klaxons.