A Dragon’s Tale

Agent Selene Dawson breathed a sigh of relief. The clearing in which the crime had taken place was pretty, but there wasn't any shade and she'd been working all day. It was mid-afternoon and they had just finished processing the crime scene.

Finally.

They'd taken so many pictures you could've reconstructed a complete 3D model. They'd also made molds of all the footprints which were intact enough to be useful. It had been a long two days and she was looking forward to getting out of the heat.

The late summer air was too warm for comfort even in the shade. It was miserably hot in the full sun of a cloudless sky. She stood up, pulled off her agency-issued FBI ball cap, and wiped her brow. She desperately needed a shower.

"You guys done?" The local sheriff -- Anderson -- asked with a slight southern accent.

"Pretty much." She nodded.

"Okay, we'll start packing up." He said and turned. He stopped, then turned back. "Keep your eyes out for suits."

"Suits?"

Sheriff Anderson nodded. "Every time we get one of these cases, a couple of government types in expensive suits always show up. They don't make a fuss and don't interfere, but they're always here and I suspect up to no good. I'd keep an eye out ma'am."

"I will, thank you."

"Ma'am." He tipped his hat and walked away.

"Boot, get a move on; we don't have all day." Mason barked. He had been right there working until the very last moment. He had a reputation as a hard ass, but he certainly didn't have a problem with hard work either.

"Coming." She called, dearly wishing that she could spell that with a 'u' instead of an 'o'. Sadly, she probably wouldn't get a chance for a few days because this case was taking all of her time. Her trusty vibrator was stowed in the bottom of her luggage where there was no chance of it accidentally falling out.

She sighed.

They hiked to the SUV in silence. Once there, she climbed into the passenger side and flopped down on the seat.

"Seatbelt." Mason said tersely.

She buckled herself in and turned the AC up as high as the dial would go.

"What did you learn?" He asked once they were underway.

"There's something strange with this case. I know it's my first field assignment, but something doesn't feel right."

"What?"

She adjusted the car vents so they blew on her face and chest before turning the fan up to its highest setting. "The tracks for one, and that strange semicircle for another. I still can't imagine what made that."

"Helicopter." He grunted. "There's nothing else that could get them out without leaving a trace like that."

"Yeah, maybe." Selene replied. It did make logical sense, but it didn't fit.

"Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains -- no matter how improbable -- must be the truth." He quoted.

"Sherlock Holmes?"

He nodded. "It's impossible for anything else on this world to get them out of there; therefore -- despite the strange-looking skid marks -- it must have been a helicopter."

"Yeah, I suppose..." She still wasn't convinced, but he was right. Of course, the famous quote from Sherlock Holmes assumed you were capable of coming up with every possible scenario and then eliminating the impossible ones.

"When we get back, rest up." Mason said. "We're going through the evidence tomorrow and from all the previous cases. Day after that, I want you to start doing interviews with the previous victim's families. Listen for anything that stands out in their testimonies."

"I will." She said.

They talked about the case most of the rest of the drive and Selene learned a lot about how to look at a crime scene. When they got back to the hotel, she ambled to her hotel room, took a cold shower -- which didn't help alleviate the tension between her legs -- and flopped down on the bed, finally feeling somewhat human. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the soft feeling of the comforter...

RING! RING!

Selene jolted awake. Her clock told her that she'd drifted off for about twenty minutes. Almost on autopilot, she answered her phone. "Agent Dawson."

"Selene, is that any way to greet your mother?" Her mom said, the usual disapproving tone in her voice being the last thing she wanted to hear right now.

"Hi mom." She sighed.

"You sound tired, are you getting enough sleep?"

"Yup." She lied. "I just worked all afternoon."

"You know, you wouldn't need to work so hard if--"

"Mom, let me stop you right there; I don't need a man."

"Of course, you don't need a man, but--"

"I don't want a man right now either." Selene sat up, letting the towel remain on the bed. "We've talked about this remember? My career is important to me."

There was a long silence, then: "Well, okay. I just want to make sure you're happy."

"I am." Selene said as she stifled a yawn.

For the next fifteen minutes, she listened to her mother relay innumerable inane things, mostly concerning her new dog. It was a yellow lab mix that she had literally no idea how to train and she was complaining that it kept wanting to eat the furniture.

"Hey, is that our daughter?" She heard her father's voice in the background.

"Hey mom, can you put dad on?"

Her mother reluctantly let go of the phone while trying to finish a story about how the neighbors weren't being considerate for not wanting to put up with her dog's constant barking. Eventually, she did give the phone over though.

"Hi angel." Her dad said in his deep, calming voice.

"Hi dad, I missed you."

"You too angel, you too." He chuckled. "Has your mother gotten you married off yet?"

Selene groaned. "Not for lack of trying."

"If you are interested, I do have a thought on that. Only if you're interested."

Selene considered. Her dad had never pushed like her mom and had mostly stayed out of her love life. When he shared an opinion, it was usually worth listening to.

"Go ahead." She said.

"I'm glad you became an FBI agent." He said. "You've been working toward that since... well, since it happened. I'm glad you made it."

"But?"

"No buts angel; just an 'and'. And don't forget that you fully planned out your wedding every other week since you were four. I'm proud of my little FBI agent. I'm not saying you should quit your job like your mother constantly says. I'm saying keep an eye out; you don't want to miss Mr. Right when he crosses your path."

"I won't miss him; I scored 'expert' in marksmanship, remember?" She said tongue firmly planted in cheek.

Her dad laughed.

It was a deep from-the-heart kind of laugh that you couldn't help laughing along with, which she did.

"I understand what you're saying, and you're probably right." She admitted. "But I need to do this job because it's more than a job to me. It's more than a career. I need to do it because... well, you know why."

"I do baby girl, I do." He replied with undeniable sadness as her reasons assuredly dredged up some painful memories. "Wanting to get justice for others is a noble goal and I'm proud of you for it."

"But?"

"No buts. Just don't get so buried in your career and giving happiness to others that you forget to find some of your own."

"I won't daddy." She said.

"Good." He replied. "Now tell me about your first case."

They talked about it for a while as she explained a few of the things that made it unique. Eventually, he had to go since her mother was putting dinner on the table.

After they hung up, Selene caught a glimpse of herself in the full-length mirror in the bathroom. She once again thanked her lucky stars for her Japanese mother, Brazilian father, and fondness for fitness.

One of her girlfriends had once said that Selene had 'won the genetic lottery'. She thought that was going a bit far, but she didn't want for male attention. In fact, she usually 'dressed down' to avoid emphasizing her looks. She'd learned that from her mother, who was pushing fifty and could easily pass for thirty. Her mother even sometimes got carded when she replenished her impressive wine collection.

She thought about what her dad had said and couldn't deny he made a good point.

Despite her youthful looks, her ovaries aged at the same rate as every other woman. She still had plenty of time at twenty-three, but in a mere ten years she would be getting up there for children. Sadly, her biological clock didn't adjust to her life choices.

Putting that out of her mind, she settled down with the files for the witnesses she needed to interview the day after tomorrow. The first on the list was a certain Jason Stiles and Melinda Estelo. They had filed the missing person's report on their friend Hailey Oswald almost four years ago. According to the file, they had been very persistent in lobbying for movement on the case.

She looked through the files and made a route based on their locations in the city. Jason and Melinda were up first, and she figured she would visit bright and early at nine the day after tomorrow. Her father always said never to visit someone earlier than nine unless it was an emergency and he was rarely wrong.

That made her mind swing back to his earlier comments about men.

What if he was right?

* * *

Ethan grabbed the satchel with a dozen of the wooden grenades and slung it over his shoulder. He took a deep breath and exhaled deeply, wondering if he was making a huge mistake.

Anthiel -- with Taloni eagerly watching -- had just expertly piloted The Argo up to a large earthen ramp that was obviously created to allow larger airships to dock. Beyond the earthen ramp, he could see the necromancer's slave camp. It wasn't large, but even a glance left you in no doubt as to its purpose.

He took another deep breath.

"Problem?" Rachel asked while Serif and Raklan threw mooring lines over the bollards to secure the Argo to the dock.

"The necromancer." He replied with a grimace. "We're going to be worlds away and if he decides not to reopen the portal, or attacks while we're gone, or even won't let us use the portal..."

Rachel nodded. "It's a risk, but it also seems like the only way to get Beth back."

Ethan nodded. "That makes it worth the risk, but that's another thing. How are we going to explain carrying Beth through the camp? We're planning on raising her from the dead; I think a necromancer would be interested."

"Good point." Rachel admitted.

Ethen shook his head. The more he thought about this the less he liked it. He supposed that this first excursion into the camp should probably be more of a fact-finding mission. He needed to know who he was dealing with and decided not to tip his hand about what they were doing. The right information in the wrong hands could be devastating.

Everyone else gathered near the gangplank where he and the redhead were talking. He activated his disguise gem and looked around at the crew of the Argo. They all looked a little trepidatious.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Alright, let's go meet a necromancer."

(End of chapter 16)

Note: This chapter began on day 52 of Ethan's life in the Ten Kingdoms and ended on day 53.