Tesser: A Dragon Among Us (A Reemergence Novel) Read online

  TESSER

  A Dragon Among Us

  A Reemergence Novel

  Chris Philbrook

  Edited by Lauren Henchey

  Designed and illustrated by Alan MacRaffen

  Tesser: A Dragon Among Us; A Reemergence Novel

  Copyright © 2013 Christopher Philbrook

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without prior written permission of the author. Your support of author’s rights is appreciated.

  Published in the United States of America

  First Publishing Date June, 2013

  All characters in this compilation are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Lauren Henchey: Editor

  Cover design and interior layout by Alan MacRaffen

  Special Thanks to all of the

  members of the Inner Circle:

  Carey Anderson

  DeLaina Craft

  Derek Carrier

  Doug James

  Ilox

  J.C. Fiske

  Jamie Rogers

  Junior Black

  Lindsey Carrier

  Matt Chambers

  Mike "Haus" Cartwright

  Pistol Annie James

  Rob "Ontos" Roche

  Vincent Carrier

  Also by Chris Philbrook:

  Elmoryn - The Kinless Trilogy

  Book One: Wrath of the Orphans

  Coming Soon:

  Book Two: The Motive for Massacre

  Book Three

  Adrian’s Undead Diary

  Book One: Dark Recollections

  Book Two: Alone No More

  Book Three: Midnight

  Book Four: The Failed Coward

  Book Five: Wrath

  Coming Soon:

  Book Six: In the Arms of Family

  Book Seven: The Trinity

  Book Eight: Cassie

  TABLE OF CONTENTS:

  Prologue The Dream

  Chapter One Abraham "Abe" Fellows

  Chapter Two Tesser

  Chapter Three Matilde "Matty" Rindahl

  Chapter Four Tesser

  Chapter Five Abe Fellows

  Chapter Six Matty Rindahl

  Chapter Seven Tesser

  Chapter Eight Sergeant Henry “Spoon” Spooner

  Chapter Nine Abe Fellows

  Chapter Ten Tesser

  Chapter Eleven Tesser

  Chapter Twelve Matilde "Matty" Rindahl

  Chapter Thirteen Abraham “Abe” Fellows

  Chapter Fourteen Tesser

  Chapter Fifteen Sergeant Henry “Spoon” Spooner

  Chapter Sixteen Mr. Doyle

  Chapter Seventeen Matty Rindahl

  Chapter Eighteen Tesser

  Chapter Nineteen Sergeant Henry “Spoon” Spooner

  Chapter Twenty Abe Fellows

  Chapter Twenty-One Matty Rindahl

  Chapter Twenty-Two Tesser

  Chapter Twenty-Three Matilde

  Chapter Twenty-Four Mr. Doyle

  Chapter Twenty-Five Tesser

  Chapter Twenty-Six Alec Fitzgerald

  Chapter Twenty-Seven Sgt. Henry Spooner

  Chapter Twenty-Eight Matty Rindahl

  Chapter Twenty-Nine Tesser

  Chapter Thirty Alec Fitzgerald

  Chapter Thirty-One Matty

  Chapter Thirty-Two Tesser

  Chapter Thirty-Three Alexis

  Chapter Thirty-Four Abe

  Chapter Thirty-Five Spoon

  Chapter Thirty-Six Tesser

  Chapter Thirty-Seven Spoon

  Chapter Thirty-Eight Fallout

  Chapter Thirty-Nine Mr. Doyle

  Chapter Forty Matty

  Chapter Forty-One Sergeant Spooner

  Chapter Forty-Two Abraham

  Chapter Forty-Three Alec Fitzgerald

  Chapter Forty-Four The Dragons

  Chapter Forty-Five Tesser

  Chapter Forty-Six Matty

  Chapter Forty-Seven Mr. Doyle

  Chapter Forty-Eight A Leaf on the Wind

  Chapter Forty-Nine Spoon

  Chapter Fifty Tesser

  Chapter Fifty-One Abe

  Chapter Fifty-Two Mr. Doyle

  Chapter Fifty-Three Alec

  Chapter Fifty-Four The Dragons

  Chapter Fifty-Five Tesser

  Chapter Fifty-Six Spoon

  Chapter Fifty-Seven Alec

  Chapter Fifty-Eight Tesser

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Additional Online Content

  Prologue:

  The Dream

  I am flying.

  I have done this before, many times, and it is joyous.

  I feel the gusts buffet my body left and right, up and down. Though the wind is reckless, it isn’t violent. I feel the energy of the air lift me higher and higher, through the cool mist of a thick cloud that clings to my face and invigorates me. It is much like the first inhalation of the ocean's air after a long journey to the coast.

  Far below me, I see green grass, lush treetops, and grey pebbles poking through the skin of the world. There is a single brown line of disturbed earth winding forward that I know to be a human road. I have flown over it many times before, and I have walked it as well. It is familiar to me, but I cannot quite place where it has come from or where it is leading.

  It doesn't matter. I have eyes that see, ears that hear, and a nose that smells. In time, I will discover everything. When I flex my wings and dip below the clouds like a descending sparrow, I can see that miles ahead the road rises on a hillock and ends at a tall wooden gate. Fortified wooden walls spread in both directions. At the center, a majestic castle made of stone and timber sits in stark contrast with the surrounding hovels of mud.

  I think it is my castle, but I don't live there. It is mine in the same way that a King owns a dog. Or a Queen owns a King.

  My dream is almost over. I feel it like a blue dawn rising on the edge of a long night. It has been a good dream for the most part, though in life, no matter how much the sun shines, storms always appear now and again. It is natural, unstoppable; it is the way of the world. It is the way of my kind.

  I sense that I have been dreaming this dream a very long time. More than a night, or a week, or even a year. Centuries have passed, maybe a millennia since I last lay open eyes on the waking world. The castle I am soaring towards in my dream is certainly gone, buried underneath centuries of revolution and crumbled empires.

  These thoughts do not cause me alarm. Nor do I fear what the world will be like when I open my eyes soon.

  I am beyond mortal fears.

  Those that wear two skins are but a nuisance to me.

  My skin breaks the teeth of those that drink blood and stalk the night.

  Were it not for the teachings and lineage of my kind, the magi would be ordinary, not the wielders of primordial might that they are.

  Goblins, monsters, and fae are my kind and they pay me the respect that is my due.

  I am the bringer of death from high above.

  I am the giver and shaper of life in so many forms.

  I am the bringer of light that illuminates all darkness.

  I am the stone that cannot be broken and the blade that cannot dull.

  I am the legend your grandfathers were told by their grandfathers.

  My footsteps shake the ground like the war march of a hundred legions.

  My heart beats as the thunder shakes the sky.

 
If this body does not suit me, I will change it and become whatever will thrive in the soil of the times in which I awake.

  I am Tesser, and I am a Dragon.

  And as I arc my wings once more to soar above the clouds, my mind elevates me away from my slumber; my fear finally makes itself known. A question, a single nagging lost memory, occurs to me.

  Why did I allow myself to be pacified in sleep for so long?

  Long slumbers are not my way.

  Acquiescing is not my way.

  I think I'll find out why I have slept so long now that this dream, this long, long dream, is over. And those that have seen to my sleep had best have had good reason for my time lost.

  Because I am Tesser, and I am Dragon.

  Chapter One

  Abraham "Abe" Fellows

  BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

  Is that a car?

  BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

  Nah, it sounds too electric.

  BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

  God, I hate technology.

  BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

  Ha! “God,” that's a good one. I don't think Mr. Doyle would approve of me referring to God.

  BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

  Why am I sitting in the coffee shop? Where is that infernal beeping coming from? Why does this latte taste like old chewed meat? Or is that a sock I taste?

  BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

  Oh Hell, that's my alarm clock. Coffee shop is just a dream. Oh Hell, it's bright out. Damn it, my hand is asleep again. Fingers are number than ever. I'll be fumbling with this shut off button for five minutes now. That Indian asshole in the apartment above me is going to start screaming again.

  BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

  I'll cast a spell. I know that cantrip well enough, and my fingers can be as numb as they want.

  BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

  Abe sat up on the edge of his worn mattress and addressed the phone sitting on the milk crate he used as a bed stand. The air stirred slightly as the young man gathered his thoughts to cast the spell. There was some magic in the air here in his apartment, his sanctum. On the mantle of the nonfunctional fireplace, he'd organized semi-precious stones that had mystical powers. There was always the scent of incense on the nose. Scents had power.

  I'm ready. Abe gestured with his tingly, stiff fingers at the touch screen of his cell phone, still sitting a couple of feet from his hands on the plastic crate. He slid his finger in the air and spoke a word laced with arcane power: "Commoveo."

  Abe watched as the image on the phone glitched. The LCD screen didn't feel the touch of his spell in the same way it would've felt a finger made of flesh and blood. He sighed at his newest failed attempt to mix technology and magic. The tingling in his fingers had abated, but he couldn't abandon the spell.

  BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

  Fucking thing. "Commoveo," he said again, sliding his fingers through the air, this time with more emphasis and focus. Abe felt a surge of energy come from somewhere and fill his word and fingers with a different tingle altogether.

  The red button reacted. Jumped. It slid across the screen smoothly to the other side, silencing the horrid alarm.

  BEEP! BE—

  "What the hell?" Abe said aloud, running his hand through his thinning black hair. He looked down at his fingers, his palms, turning his hands over several times, trying to find the source of the sudden energy he'd somehow tapped into. He stood on creaky morning legs and looked about his apartment for something new. Perhaps some creature or artifact that Mr. Doyle had perhaps slipped in while he was asleep.

  But there was nothing. Just empty pizza boxes, clothes in need of a washer, and Magic the Gathering cards.

  His phone elicited another electronic bleat and Abe had a sudden pang of failure. But he was wrong. This was just the ringer. He picked the phone up with living fingers and looked at the caller ID on the screen. It read simply: Mr. Doyle.

  Abe thumbed the answer button over and lifted it to his ear. "Mr. Doyle?"

  An older British man's voice came back, "Abraham."

  "Yes, Mr. Doyle? What can I do for you this morning?" Abe asked quickly. Mr. Doyle didn't like it when he hesitated. Mr. Doyle said men who wanted to learn the art of magic should always act with confidence.

  There was a pause on Mr. Doyle's end. Is he at a loss for words? Has the apocalypse come?

  "Abraham, I think you need to call in sick to work. Someone else will need to tend to your company's accounting today. In fact, you should phone them that you can no longer work for them. Something rather large is afoot in the world and your time needs to be redirected to more appropriate tasks." Doyle sounded somewhere between ecstatic and horrified. Abe had never heard him speak in such a way.

  How the hell will I pay rent? "How the hell will I pay rent, Mr. Doyle? I can't afford to quit my job at the firm." Doyle was an accountant at a large law firm. Emotionally, it was a dead end position, but financially it was a homerun, despite the contrary evidence of the décor of his apartment. Abe looked down sadly at the milk crate again.

  "Abraham, I can afford for you to be in my employ. Many of my earlier years home in The United Kingdom were fiscally bountiful. I shall replace your salary in its entirety. Sack yourself via the telephone and come to my brownstone immediately."

  Abe smiled. This was what he had wanted all along. He'd been an apprentice to the old British mage for nearly two years now, and all he'd learned was three minor spells and how to read ten ancient and long since dead languages. By this point, if the magic thing didn't work out, all he had left was counting beans in a cubicle.

  "Abraham, is this arrangement sufficient?"

  Shit, I must've gone silent daydreaming again. "Yes, Mr. Doyle. Sorry. Lost in thought. I wanted to tell you I was able to cast a cantrip a few minutes ago. It seemed far more powerful than anything I've ever done before. I think I'm getting the hang of it."

  "Dearest Abraham, something else is happening. Something large. Something that will certainly have rippling effects on the whole world, both mundane, and magical. Some of my most precious possessions in my study have begun to… awaken, shall I say. Clocks ticking, candles burning again, things of that nature. All roused by something, or someone."

  Abe started to wonder what that meant but caught himself. Daydreaming was unbecoming for someone who wanted to master magic.

  "I guess I'll quit and head over then," Abe said softly. I'll need to go in to get the stuff out of my cube.

  "You guess? I suggest you stop guessing, Mister Fellows, and start being confident and assertive. I haven't lived as long as I have to waste my time on someone who guesses at things. Come over when you are ready. And please don’t forget to turn your alarm off." Doyle cut the call.

  Abe let his hands settle in his lap. He looked around the room, wondering what had happened that made Mr. Doyle ask him to make such a huge change to his life.

  BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

  The beeping startled Abe, and he dropped the phone to the hardwood floor of his apartment. He reached down to pick up the smart phone and laughed as he thumbed the snooze button permanently.

  "How did he know my alarm wasn't off?"

  Chapter Two

  Tesser

  I am buried in earth.

  Tesser's body was immense. From the tip of his nose to the end of his tail, he was nearly one hundred and fifty feet long, fully half the length of a modern football field. Right now he was coiled in tightly, wrapped up to be as small as was physically possible. Tesser had no idea what modern football was though. Not yet at least.

  How did I come to be here?

  The earth holding Tesser's draconic body still was pressing down with enough force to crush coal into diamonds, but his ancient scaled skin held firm. Dragon flesh would not succumb to something so natural and primal. The mere presence of earth —no matter how crushing it may be– wasn't enough.

  I need to reach the surface.

  Tesser's eyes were already closed against the dirt and stones, but he furrowed his massive brows tigh
ter and focused his mind. A swirl of sensations cascaded over his awareness as he opened up to all the information the world offered him. One by one each of the scales on his body registered what was against them, and precisely how much pressure existed. His nostrils, still sealed with a flap of scales to keep out the invasive sand, opened a slit and took in the tiniest amount of matter. The scent of organic matter told him his depth. Within seconds Tesser realized which direction was up, and how far he had to burrow to get to the surface.

  The muscles that corded the length of Tesser's body were unlike anything science had ever seen. Only the dinosaurs were comparable, but to compare a Tyrannosaurus Rex to Tesser was akin to comparing a garden trowel to a nuclear weapon. Both were capable of moving earth, albeit in a spectacularly different fashion.

  Tesser's enormous hand opened, the fingers as large as tree trunks and tipped with curving black scythes of claws. The black tips ripped through the earth smoothly, loosening it in handfuls large enough to fit a small car.

  Still too tight.

  The immobile body of a dragon might register as stone to a geologist. The bones and muscles are far more dense and supernatural than simple flesh, and when several hundred tons of dragon chooses to move, anything preventing that from happening gives way.

  Tesser shrugged. The earth moved. Boston’s Back Bay felt it. The media that night reported a "minor tremor," a localized earthquake that reached 2.1 on the Richter scale.

  The earth below gave way abruptly. Tesser's massive arms and legs shot out and arrested his short slide. Several yards of stone, some of it shaped in an unnatural way, fell away below him. Tesser immediately opened his nostrils and inhaled for the first time in thousands of years. He was assaulted by foreign smells that caused discomfort. Primarily, he disliked the burning smells, sulfurous and unpleasant, that reminded him of the raw eruptions of volcanoes and the ancient pits of tar that swallowed so many creatures hundreds of thousands of years prior.