Read Online A Dragon at the Gate (The New Aeneid Cycle Book 3) by Michael G. Munz - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Michael G. Munz
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far ahead to hear through the crowd, her boyfriend was hyper-alert at the worst of times.
The caller ID read Michael Flynn . Michael himself, or just someone using his phone? She answered the call and tucked in against the edge of the tunnel, her eyes fixed on Rue further down. “Michael? You’re awake?” A trace of relief covered her like a momentary dry spot in a storm.
“ Hi, Caitlin. I’m out of the hospital and trying to catch up. Can you and Felix meet me somewhere? I tried calling him but— ”
“Felix is a mite indisposed at the moment.” Rue had paused at the tunnel’s exit and appeared to be keeping an eye on both the platform and Caitlin. Really, Caitlin was slowing Rue down. What if they lost track of Felix? “But I can meet you. I’m glad you called.”
“ Yeah, I stopped by Marc’s place. Holes said you’d been trying to reach him. Holes is spoofing my phone number for the moment too, by the way. Is everything okay? ”
“Not exactly.”
“ Makes two of us, then. ”
“Oh, lovely. Give me a wee moment to break away and I’ll be along.”
Michael suggested a club downtown that she knew only by reputation. “ I should mention that some freelancers just tried to kill me, so if you don’t want to— ”
“I’ll be there.”
“ Be careful. ”
“Aye, likewise.” She started up the tunnel towards Rue and motioned for her to meet her halfway. “And Michael? I’m glad you’re awake.”
Her phone was back in her jacket and silenced a moment later.
“He got on the eight o’clock toward Gibson,” Rue said. “Gives us five minutes to get tickets, if we’re going.”
Caitlin swallowed, torn. The city of Gibson was fifty miles east. “You’re going,” she said. “If you’re up for it. I have to meet someone else who may be able to help. I fear I’m only slowing you down anyway.”
Rue bit her lip. “Yeah, okay.”
“I’ll pay for the ticket.”
“Look, I’ve got it. I’ll call you when he gets off the train.”
Caitlin hugged her. “ Diolch . I owe you.”
“Both Scry,” Rue reminded her. “And I like trains.”
“So,” Michael finished, hoping he hadn’t rushed telling of the attack at Marc’s apartment, “after we got out of there and figured we weren’t followed, I tried you and Felix and we came here.”
Caitlin sat across the tiny table from him. Flashes of red and blue reflected in her eyes from numerous sources around them. The white aura of the leaves behind her set a glow radiating along her hair. “Crikey,” she said. “I’m glad you escaped. Poor Marc; he liked that flat.”
“Have you heard from him?” Michael asked.
She shook her head. “Not since we all parted ways.”
He’d expected as much, but it was worth asking. Now at a loss, Michael glanced to where Jade kept watch over them, twenty feet away and standing with her back nestled in a wall covered in ivy. The ivy stalks pulsed lavender in time with the electro-symphonic music that wove through the club.
The place was called Chlorophyll, and Michael loved it. It was an impression he’d formed within the first few minutes of his arrival that evening. Once he and Jade had stepped through the door, a rush of comfort and vibrancy had enveloped him. It was as if he’d walked through a portal from Northgate’s cold concrete into a forest at night: bushes and ferns lined the walls. Exotic trees reached up toward the ceiling, draping broad leaves or long needles into the open spaces through which patrons moved or sat. Flowering vines dangled above the bar and what he could see of a dance floor. Though Michael was certain the plants were painstakingly placed, the club had done so with such skill as to create what felt like a fully organic space.
All around him radiated life. As if that weren’t enough to enchant his senses, the plants themselves were aglow—lit, Jade had explained, from inside via some form of genetically engineered bioluminescence. Some glowed in gentle,
The caller ID read Michael Flynn . Michael himself, or just someone using his phone? She answered the call and tucked in against the edge of the tunnel, her eyes fixed on Rue further down. “Michael? You’re awake?” A trace of relief covered her like a momentary dry spot in a storm.
“ Hi, Caitlin. I’m out of the hospital and trying to catch up. Can you and Felix meet me somewhere? I tried calling him but— ”
“Felix is a mite indisposed at the moment.” Rue had paused at the tunnel’s exit and appeared to be keeping an eye on both the platform and Caitlin. Really, Caitlin was slowing Rue down. What if they lost track of Felix? “But I can meet you. I’m glad you called.”
“ Yeah, I stopped by Marc’s place. Holes said you’d been trying to reach him. Holes is spoofing my phone number for the moment too, by the way. Is everything okay? ”
“Not exactly.”
“ Makes two of us, then. ”
“Oh, lovely. Give me a wee moment to break away and I’ll be along.”
Michael suggested a club downtown that she knew only by reputation. “ I should mention that some freelancers just tried to kill me, so if you don’t want to— ”
“I’ll be there.”
“ Be careful. ”
“Aye, likewise.” She started up the tunnel towards Rue and motioned for her to meet her halfway. “And Michael? I’m glad you’re awake.”
Her phone was back in her jacket and silenced a moment later.
“He got on the eight o’clock toward Gibson,” Rue said. “Gives us five minutes to get tickets, if we’re going.”
Caitlin swallowed, torn. The city of Gibson was fifty miles east. “You’re going,” she said. “If you’re up for it. I have to meet someone else who may be able to help. I fear I’m only slowing you down anyway.”
Rue bit her lip. “Yeah, okay.”
“I’ll pay for the ticket.”
“Look, I’ve got it. I’ll call you when he gets off the train.”
Caitlin hugged her. “ Diolch . I owe you.”
“Both Scry,” Rue reminded her. “And I like trains.”
“So,” Michael finished, hoping he hadn’t rushed telling of the attack at Marc’s apartment, “after we got out of there and figured we weren’t followed, I tried you and Felix and we came here.”
Caitlin sat across the tiny table from him. Flashes of red and blue reflected in her eyes from numerous sources around them. The white aura of the leaves behind her set a glow radiating along her hair. “Crikey,” she said. “I’m glad you escaped. Poor Marc; he liked that flat.”
“Have you heard from him?” Michael asked.
She shook her head. “Not since we all parted ways.”
He’d expected as much, but it was worth asking. Now at a loss, Michael glanced to where Jade kept watch over them, twenty feet away and standing with her back nestled in a wall covered in ivy. The ivy stalks pulsed lavender in time with the electro-symphonic music that wove through the club.
The place was called Chlorophyll, and Michael loved it. It was an impression he’d formed within the first few minutes of his arrival that evening. Once he and Jade had stepped through the door, a rush of comfort and vibrancy had enveloped him. It was as if he’d walked through a portal from Northgate’s cold concrete into a forest at night: bushes and ferns lined the walls. Exotic trees reached up toward the ceiling, draping broad leaves or long needles into the open spaces through which patrons moved or sat. Flowering vines dangled above the bar and what he could see of a dance floor. Though Michael was certain the plants were painstakingly placed, the club had done so with such skill as to create what felt like a fully organic space.
All around him radiated life. As if that weren’t enough to enchant his senses, the plants themselves were aglow—lit, Jade had explained, from inside via some form of genetically engineered bioluminescence. Some glowed in gentle,
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