Lupi 08 - Death Magic

wasn’t much they could do about it—the Accords allowed dragons to choose from any publicly owned land. But city authorities were unhappy, too. Lily could see why. People can be remarkably stupid at times. You could post all the “Danger: Dragon Lair” signs you want. A few idiots are going to climb the fence anyway.
    As far as Lily knew, Mika hadn’t eaten any intruders. There had been a few incidents, however.
    D.C. authorities had grown worried enough to approach Sam about it. Sam—otherwise known as Sun Mzao—was the largest, oldest, and most powerful of the dragons who’d returned to Earth after their long sojourn in the hell realm. It was he who’d sung the gate open wide enough, he who brought Lily and Rule with him . . . or they’d brought him, depending on how you looked at it.
    Sam had been the one to descend from the night sky onto the White House lawn when he deemed it time to open negotiations. After the Turning, magic leaked into the world in quantities human tech couldn’t handle. Dragons absorbed free magic—and needed it, too. They also needed a new home, hell having grown too hot for them after a certain demon lord devoured the Great Bitch’s avatar and went wildly insane.
    It wasn’t surprising D.C.’s mayor thought Sam was the dragons’ leader. Wrong, but not surprising. People really didn’t understand dragons.
    Sam had been—for him—quite polite to the people who’d flown across the country to speak with him. He hadn’t allowed the mayoral party into his lair, but he had replied when they stood at the gate and talked to him.
    Mika is young , Sam had said. He will tire of his odd choice eventually.
    “But ‘eventually’ might mean years. Maybe decades, from what I understand. People use the park now . Children. It’s an invitation to disaster, having him there.”
    Has Mika eaten anyone he shouldn’t? A pet? Your government was anxious about pets, I recall.
    “No, but the danger remains. He is—”
    Not in violation of the Accords. If he violates the Accords, you may tell any of us and we will deal with it. Otherwise, it is none of my affair. Go away.
    “If you don’t wish to order him to move to the new lair, perhaps you could persuade him. Or just talk to him about it. He won’t listen to us, but it’s a very nice place, with a small lake and—”
    At that point, the mayor and four of the five people with him had fallen asleep. The fifth—a husky National Park Service employee—had been told to remove the collapsed members of his party. He had. Quickly.
    D.C.’s mayor was wonderfully persistent. That’s why Lily knew about the exchange between him and Sam. After he woke up, he’d gone to Grandmother to ask her to intervene.
    Grandmother had served him tea—not the full tea ceremony, simply the beverage—gotten the story from him, then told him the truth. “Mika has shown admirable restraint in the face of such rudeness. You will learn to live with his presence. You will stop pestering him, and you will not pester any of the other dragons about this. No one tells a dragon where to lair. Not even another dragon.”
    Lily smiled as she reached the end of the tree tunnel. Grandmother did enjoy telling that story.
    Trees and path alike ended at a wall of earth and rock greened by uncut grass and an assortment of what gardeners optimistically refer to as volunteers or native plants. Weeds, to most people. Lily looked up. As hills go, this one was more abrupt than most. Lots of boulders, which was like the rocky jumble back home, but these were planted, not grown naturally from the earth’s bones.
    She’d been warned about this aspect of Mika’s upgrades, so she’d dressed for it—jeans, Nikes, a tee, a light jacket that hid her weapon and had a secure inside pocket for her phone. After a moment, she spotted the faint trail off to her right and started climbing.
    There were two ways into the heart of Mika’s lair. One involved the lost parking lot, now a large livestock pen. Lily had been told not to approach through the dining room, so she toiled up the Mika-made slope. It was steep but not tricky; only one short stretch required handholds.
    As she reached the top, magic buzzed faintly on her skin. Mika’s ward, she assumed. She looked down. Farther down than she’d come up.
    It didn’t look much like an amphitheater anymore. Where rows of seats had stepped neatly down toward the stage, stone buttressed the earthen wall she’d climbed. Not solid