Dragon Assassin 2 (Dragon Assassin Omnibus) by Slade Arthur

Author:Slade, Arthur [Slade, Arthur]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Dava Enterprises
Published: 2020-01-04T16:00:00+00:00

13

Long Ago

I knew what—whom—I would see before I turned.

The mage dragon, ancient as ever, was standing behind me leaning on his staff. He blinked, watching both Dyn and me. This dragon could freeze me and lift me in the air with a spell. Maybe even bash me into a wall until all my insides were outside. He probably breathed some sort of horrible flame, too.

I slowly, so slowly, stood, pulling Dyn up with me. I even brushed imaginary dust off the front of his shirt before I let him go.

“This moment has already happened,” Vecterix said. He was now looking into my eyes. “Too many paths to remember. Are you a reflection?”

“Pardon?” I moved my hands toward my empty sheaths. An old habit.

“No.” Vecterix raised a finger on his right hand, displaying a claw. “This is the real moment. Not the reflection. This is the real time.”

And, as if to prove whatever it was he was trying to prove, he reached out and touched my shoulder. I held still, expecting him to stab me with his claw or hit me with a spell from that staff, though his eyes were calm and warm. Well, as warm as a dragon’s eyes could look. His one eye was glowing blue and slightly smaller than the reptilian gray eye. It was all rather mesmerizing.

“You’re real,” he said.

“Yes,” I answered. “Yes, I am. So far.”

“Good,” he said. “My looking lens. Get it, please.” At first I thought it was an order for me, but Dyn stepped away then shortly came back with a small round lens of glass that he placed over Vecterix’s blue eye. The thin metal that held the lens sat on the bridge of his snout, and he continued to stare at me through the glass with his gray eye closed. “Thank you,” he said.

Dyn bowed and backed up a few steps. “Do you want me to tie her up?” he asked. The eagerness in his voice made me want to punch him. Hard. But I held back.

Vecterix shook his head. “Shh,” he said. “You’re making bubbles in the stream.”

Again, I did not understand what he meant, but I stood still. The hairs on the back of my neck were rising as though the power in him emanated over me in waves.

“I talked to you in the past,” Vecterix said to me. “In the Hall of Ancestors. That wasn’t a reflection, correct?”

“Yes,” I said. “You spoke to me.”

“And they imprisoned you. I walked with you to the dungeon. And you are now no longer imprisoned.”

“I escaped,” I said. There was no point in lying. “I crawled through the sewer.”

“Yes. That was in a reflection, too. One reflection. The other was a drowning death.”

I shuddered. I knew he was talking about my death, and he’d said it so matter-of-factly. But what were these reflections? He’d asked whether I was a reflection. Did he somehow see reflections of what might come?

Then it became clear. If he had seen the past—many pasts, presents and

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