Soldier

The woman stepped forward, looming over my chair. Something feral glittered in her dark eyes, and for a moment, the pupils almost appeared green. “So, talk, mortal,” she commanded, as with a jolt, I realized what she was. “I don’t have time for games, and recently I’ve been a little short on patience. I really would prefer to be civil, but if you do not cooperate, I will reluctantly have it done the hard way.”

“I... Are you from Talon?” I asked instead, and she frowned.

“No.” For some reason, the very thought seemed to disgust her. Her lips curled in an expression of loathing that could not be faked. “I am not. Nor will I ever be part of that cursed organization.”

“But...you are a dragon.”

She sighed, and I caught a hint of smoke on her breath, though it was different, somehow. Almost spicy, like incense. “I do loathe that word,” she murmured, more to herself than to me. “So clunky and inelegant. It lumps us all into one basket, assumes that we are all one and the same.” She scowled at me. “Yes, mortal,” she said bluntly. “I am, as you say, a dragon. In my language, I am known as a shen-lung, though I don’t expect you to remember that. Continue to call me dragon, if you like, but you will talk and you will tell me about Talon and what they are doing here.”

An Eastern dragon. For a moment, I could only stare in wonder. We—St. George—knew so little of them. I had never even seen an Eastern dragon before, though I knew they existed. Unlike their Western counterparts, the dragons of the Orient were far more reclusive and difficult to track down. In the Order, not much was known about them, though it was assumed they were still part of Talon, as all dragons were.

I knew better, now. And if this woman, this shen-lung, despised Talon as much as she appeared to, maybe I could turn this to my advantage. If I could get her to trust me.

“I’m not from Talon,” I said.

She was clearly unconvinced. “Don’t make this hard on yourself,” she said, though her voice wasn’t threatening or ominous, it was just weary. “I truly do not wish to hurt you, especially one so young, but I will have answers. You were clearly following the leader of the Order. Spying on him, as we were. No one from St. George would do such a thing—the only one to benefit from such activities would be Talon. So please.” She made a vague gesture with a hand, and the two men flanking me closed in, resting corded hands on my shoulders. I felt the strength in their fingers as they squeezed; my bones started to bend from the pressure. “Dispense with the lies. Talon cannot protect you now. I will ask once more. Who are you, and why are you here?”

“I am not working for Talon,” I said again, keeping my voice steady through the growing pain. “And you can have your thugs hit me, break my arms, whatever—I’ll still give you the same answer. I can’t tell you anything about Talon, because I’m not from the organization.”

“Then who are you working for?” the woman asked in an overly patient tone. “You know far too much to be an ordinary human. What is your interest in the Patriarch? Who are you, exactly?” When I didn’t answer, the dragon’s voice became lethally soft. “If you want me to start believing you, mortal, this is your last chance.”

I clenched my jaw. If I told her who I really was, what I really was, she might kill me, anyway. I didn’t know what Eastern dragons thought of the Order, but I could assume they knew who we were and what we did. St. George was the enemy of all dragons, and Talon would show me no mercy. Would their Eastern counterparts do the same?

I hesitated a moment longer, then decided to take the gamble. Even though I knew it was risky and she might immediately have her thugs snap my neck if she knew the truth. But I was out of options and in desperate need of allies. If I could convince this dragon we were on the same side, maybe we could help each other. If she didn’t decide to kill me on principle.

“I know about Talon and the Patriarch,” I said carefully, feeling my heartbeat pick up, “because...I was part of the Order. I was once a soldier of St. George.”

Both men straightened, and the dragon drew back, narrowing her eyes. “This is a lie,” she stated, her voice hard. “Soldiers of St. George never leave the Order. You are lying again—”

“I’m not,” I insisted.

“You must be.” She glared down, anger and hatred glittering from her previously calm expression. “If you know about Talon and the Order, you know what St. George does to us.”

“Yes,” I agreed. “I know. If I’m lying, why would I tell you I’ve taken part in slaughtering your kind?” She had no answer for that, watching me with hard black eyes. “I was a soldier of the Order,” I said again. “If you want the truth, there it is.”

She frowned, suspicion and curiosity warring with anger and hate. “Why would you tell me this?” she asked in a soft voice, coming forward again. “You say you were part of the Order that would see us extinct. You have admitted to killing my kind, massacring us wholesale, in the name of your God.” She leaned forward, close enough for me to see my reflection in her jet-black eyes. “The only reason I do not kill you where you stand is because you told the truth, and you knew what that would mean. I find myself curious as to why. Why would a soldier of St. George reveal himself to his enemy? What kind of game are you playing?”

“It’s not a game,” I told her. “I’m not your enemy. And I’m not part of the Order any longer. We can help each other.” One of the men snorted, but I ignored him. “I have information on the Patriarch and Talon,” I continued, holding her gaze, “and I’m willing to share it with you. But you have to trust me.”

“Trust you?” The dragon rose, giving me a look of contempt. “Trust you?” Walking to the opposite wall, she stood there a moment, arms crossed, as if trying to compose herself. “Do you know why I’m here, mortal?” she said, whirling around again. “Do you think I want to be in this bizarre country, surrounded by oblivious mortals and their strange customs? I had a temple, in the Hua Shan mountains. A small, isolated temple perched on a cliff, where I lived in peace with the humans for over a hundred years. The temple monks all knew me and revered me. I was the third dragon to make my home there, as my ancestors did before me.

“And then,” she continued, narrowing her eyes, “one day, we had a visitor. A dragon, from the Western lands, all fancy and civilized in his expensive suit, always looking at his smartphone. He spoke of his grand organization, Talon, and tried to get me to join. All dragons should be united under one banner, he said. Think of what we could accomplish if all our kind joined together against the mortals. I refused. I didn’t want to be part of his massive corporation—I was content living my simple life with no interruptions or demands. I craved peace, isolation. Not power. I’d heard rumors of our Western cousin’s sprawling organization, and the Elder Wyrm’s constant quest for supremacy. I wanted nothing to do with Talon, and told him so.

“Before he left, he told me this—be careful you are not making a terrible mistake. Without Talon, you are vulnerable. Without Talon, St. George will eventually come for you, and all your desires for peace and simplicity will mean nothing when they are burning your temple to the ground.”

My skin prickled, and cold spread through my insides. I knew where was this was going. I remembered the conversation between the Patriarch and the Talon agent, about a temple in China, and suddenly everything became perfectly, sickeningly clear.

“One month later,” the dragon continued softly, “that is exactly what happened. The Order of St. George came in the night and began slaughtering everyone in the temple. Unarmed monks, who had never killed so much as a grasshopper in their entire lives, were cut down in a hail of bullets as the soldiers marched through, searching for me. I know the monks tried to talk to the soldiers, reason with them. I know they strove for a peaceful solution and were gunned down without mercy or thought. I wanted to fight—my friends, men I’d known since they were children, infants, were being systematically executed. But the abbot convinced me to flee.

“We are the only ones to survive the massacre at the temple,” the dragon finished, glancing at the two men standing like rocks beside me. “Three survivors, out of a dozen souls who wished only to live their lives in peace and isolation. And then, St. George came through, slaughtered them all, and burned the ancient temple to the ground. Nothing remains of my home but cinders and ash. So, tell me, St. George...” She stepped forward, raising her arm, and the cold edge of a knife was pressed against my throat. The dragon’s gaze was glassy as she leaned in. “Why should I trust you? Why shouldn’t I show you the same amount of mercy your kind showed the monks at my temple?”

I closed my eyes. “You have no reason to trust me,” I said. “I’ve done all the things you’ve seen St. George do and more. Had circumstances been different, I might have been on that raid.” Opening my eyes, I met her furious stare. “I know it means little now, and nothing I say can make up for what you’ve lost, but...I am sorry for what happened.”

The dragon paused, confusion and astonishment battling the anger in her expression. “You are either a very gifted manipulator, or the strangest soldier of St. George I have ever seen,” she murmured at last. The blade’s edge dropped from my throat, and she stepped back, regarding me intently. “All right, mortal. Let us say, against all my better judgment, I decide to believe you for the moment. You went from butchering every dragon you came across to apologizing to one of them today. What changed?”

“I met someone,” I said quietly. “A dragon. A hatchling out of Talon, being sent to live with humans for the first time. The Order knew the organization had sent one of their agents to a small town in California. My mission was to track her down, expose what she really was and kill her.”

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