Home > Dragon Mage (Dragon Point #7)(5)

Dragon Mage (Dragon Point #7)(5)
Author: Eve Langlais

“Hi, handsome. I’m Daphne. And you are?” She fluttered her lashes.

“Is something caught in your eyes? Are they burning from the smoke?” The poison usually took being ingested to activate; however, it could be the Shaitan had adapted it.

Her lips twisted as she muttered, “Even in my dreams, I can’t get any.”

“Get what? You make no sense, and I do not have time to decipher. Do you or do you not know the location of the seals?” he asked, his English perfect. He’d had to learn it quickly upon his arrival. Had to learn about an entirely new culture a little too quickly. The difference between this world and the one he’d left behind…staggering. He had so much to learn still; he just didn’t have much time.

She blinked at him. “The what?”

“The seals. The amphora you failed to protect,” he explained with a hint of exasperation.

“Dude, you are not making any sense.” Daphne shook her head.

That meant yet another person who had no idea of what he spoke. He pursed his lips. For a world with knowledge literally in the palms of their hands, the occupants were ignorant. They didn’t know the basics. Had forgotten what some had sacrificed to keep them safe. “I am seeking the seals that keep closed the prison.”

“What prison?”

“The dimension holding the Iblis.”

“The Ib-what?”

“An evil banished a long time ago.”

“Banished for what?”

“Ugh,” he grunted as he moved away from her and headed for the dagger that had fallen on the floor. He pocketed it as he said, “I have no time to answer your questions. Two of the seals have been broken, which means they can now search twice as fast.”

“And by seals, you’re referring to the bottle.” She frowned. “Sorry, Hot Pants, but as far as I know, it’s the only one of its kind.”

“Fuck.” The word that most described his life escaped his lips. Three thousand years of planning, and he was failing already. He had to do better. The fate of the world depended on him.

He stomped toward the exit of this strange place, prepared to move on, only she kept pace with him. “Hold on a second. Where are you going?”

“To locate the other seals.”

“Can’t your search wait like five minutes? Maybe ten if we add some foreplay?” She waggled her brows and smiled.

He stared at her. “Is there something wrong with you?”

“Obviously something is wrong with me,” she exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. “Here I am, having a dream with a super-hot guy and I still can’t get laid. Could I be a bigger loser?” She held her fingers against her forehead, making a straight angle.

“This isn’t a dream,” he uttered with a snort before turning away.

“It has to be because guys who turn into smoke don’t exist.”

“Only because three thousand years ago, a brave band of companions took care of the infestation, sacrificing their lives to lock them away. I shouldn’t have to explain this. Do you not keep any histories?” Just how ignorant were the people in this time and place? Surely someone recalled what happened. How a group of thirteen battled and won against evil then vowed to never let it return.

Then again, it had been three thousand years, and the world had drastically changed.

For one, humans now ruled the surface. That proved to be a surprise, as was the amount of space occupied by them. Sprawling cities joined together by roads made of some malleable stone called asphalt. Power harnessed and jetted through thin wires powering inanimate objects. Buildings soared higher than even the tower of Babel. The air smelled and tasted different. Giant metal beasts flew in the air, while others lumbered on the ground. People spoke into small devices they called phones. Could see events play out on glass screens. Something called technology appeared to be more prevalent than magic.

How had this happened? When had the mages who used to rule alongside kings lost their power? Where had the dragons gone? The elves and other folk who used to own these lands? Had the human killed them? Or did they hide?

As he left the room, the woman followed, still talking. He could have ended her ceaseless prattling but for one thing. She knew this world, and despite all he learned, there was so much he still didn’t know. He needed a guide.

“Where is your domicile? Is it near?”

“Doesn’t really matter, now, does it? Not like you’re interested,” she grumbled, shoving at the strange lenses on her face. He’d seen things like them numerous times now and had to assume they were some kind of decorative accoutrement.

“Your domicile has a bed?” he asked.

Her expression brightened. “Queen-sized.”

Not something that made any sense. The queens he’d known were vastly different when it came to width and weight. Perhaps the world had managed to thrive under a single monarch long enough that she became a unit of measurement. A fascinating thing if true.

“How do we reach your abode?”

“My car is parked out back. It’s like a three-minute drive this time of night if I get all the lights.”

He grimaced. “You wish us to travel via mechanical chariot?”

“Er, yes. With like a few hundred horses under the hood, and great mileage. If you’ll follow me.” She indicated a different direction than the one he’d arrived in. He’d gone through the front doors, blasting them open, encased in a spell of silence to ensure surprise.

“You stated your name is Daphne.”

“Yup, that’s me, although I am nothing like the Mystery Gang version. No red hair.” She patted her head. “But I do like purple. You?” She glanced over her shoulder with a smile, then ran into the wall and bounced off before recovering with bright red cheeks.

Holding a smile, he replied, “Azrael.”

“Just like Gargamel’s cat.”

His brow knit. “What nonsense do you spout?”

“Not a cartoon watcher, eh?”

She continued to make little sense as she led the way through a door that opened when the bar across it was pushed. It revealed a space rendered confined with stacks of boxes, but she ignored the magical vibe emanating from a few and headed for the red lettering that glowed above a door.

“What is this place?” He’d not had much time to look, given he’d come to retrieve the seal.

“Museum.”

He tried to make sense of the word. “A depository for ancient artifacts, or things that represent art, knowledge, or history.”

“A perfect definition. I’m going to guess English is your second language? Which seems surprising. You speak it rather well.”

“I am recently arrived to this time and place.”

“And just happened to be in my museum as Mr. Smoky attacked me.”

“I was hoping to beat the Shaitan here.”

“How did you even know to come?”

“The moving picture screen showed an image of it. And then, once I was close, I could hear it whispering.”

That caused her to pause as she placed her hand on another bar crossing a door. “Whispering? As in aloud? Because I didn’t hear anything.”

For some reason she lied. “Why do you deny it?” He’d heard it shouting, demanding to be freed, the moment he entered the room.

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