Part 46 (1/2)
Mara froze.
Her mother turned and locked eyes with him.
”Jump,” he prompted.
Diana, still holding the Chronicle, straightened and flung herself into the funnel of ash and bone. Her hand grazed the jaw of the skull.
A blinding blue light erupted.
The imploding bubble yanked Mara forward and swept everything inside it to its center beneath the arch of the bridge. Leaning against the vacuum rus.h.i.+ng to fill the void, she stumbled as the road fell out from under her. The two still-smoldering arches on each side of the road separated from the span, spreading like wings as they cascaded into the river. The road peeled away from the infrastructure, revealing the water below. Folding in on itself, the center of the bridge crumpled, collapsed into a single point of light and exploded into shards of brilliant blue.
Then darkness and silence came.
CHAPTER 68.
MARA AWOKE AND saw stars.
Then some of them disappeared.
Something blotted them out of the predawn sky. Raising herself up, she squinted and made out a silhouette circling above.
The dragon.
It glided downward in a lazy spiral coming closer with each pa.s.s. Her heart sped up, not out of fear, but with the realization it wasn't a nightmare.
She glanced to the left. The arch, the center of the bridge, was gone. The rising roadway ended in a cliff just before the water's edge.
A chill ran up her arms when she placed her hands on the ground, realizing she was on top of a corrugated aluminum roof off to the side where the bridge had been. Unsure of her sore limbs, she stood, trying to get her bearings. She kicked something that clanked loudly as it skidded on the metallic roof. She bent down and picked up the Chronicle.
”Like a bad-luck penny,” she said to herself, tucking it into her pocket.
She felt a breeze waft down from above. The dragon descended closer, now just forty feet away. Since it wasn't diving at her or blowing fire, she didn't think it was attacking. Still, it was a dragon. It would be a good idea to get on the ground, just in case. Leaning over the edge of the roof, she saw no quick-and safe-way down.
The sky was getting lighter. She could see some of the scaly detail of the creature sailing above as it held its wings open and lazily swished its ma.s.sive tail back and forth. After another moment, it tensed and reared back its head. The wings flicked, the dragon hovered in one spot like a giant hummingbird. It tensed again, waved its head skyward, screeched loudly enough to shake the aluminum Mara stood on and exploded into a cloud of dust.
Mara raised her hands over her head antic.i.p.ating dragon fallout.
There was none.
The cloud of dust floated still for a moment, then gathered, instead of dissipating with the wind. Particles swirled and flowed downward toward Mara. It hovered over the corrugated roof, swirling faster, becoming denser, spinning like a mote of dust. It began to take form, the form of a man. It grew solid, and its features grew familiar.
”Ping!” Mara ran across the roof and hugged him. ”I can't believe it's you.”
”I'm somewhat amazed myself,” Ping said.
”What happened? Where did the dragon go?”
Ping patted his chest with both hands. ”He's in here.”
”I don't understand.”
”I'm not sure I completely understand myself. It appears the dragon and I now share this body. Two consciousnesses in one body.”
”One body that can take the shape of a man or a dragon?”
”Something like that. During your battle with the dragon, his remains and mine fused. Remember Sam's pixel a.n.a.logy? This realm is just pixels, an interface to actual consciousness? The Dragon and I have separate consciousnesses, but we now share pixels in this realm.”
”Did I do this to you?”
”Obviously your abilities played a role in the fusion during the battle, but it would be overly simplistic to say you did it. My own physiology came into play as well.”
”Oh, Ping, I am so sorry. Let's see if I can undo-”
”No, no. We don't fully understand the consequences of trying to undo this. We could make things worse.”
”You can't live with a dragon inside you.”
”I believe I can. We've come to an accommodation that I think will work. I get this body for the balance of my natural life, and then he gets to have it. Dragons, you see, live for hundreds of years. For the few decades I have left, he's agreed to basically take a nap. I don't bother him. He doesn't bother me.”
”So when you die, you turn into a dragon?”
”My body will. That's the deal.”
”I don't think bequeathing a dragon to the world will be much of a legacy. You can't just check out and let your pixels loose to ravage the countryside.”
”We don't have to figure this out now. We've got time to consider what to do,” he said.
”So that was you, when I fell from the bridge.”
He nodded.
”Might be handy to have a dragon around.”
”Don't count on it. I'm not waking him up. Let's get down from here and go.”
”First we have to find Mom and Sam,” she said.
Ping turned somber. ”Mara, I'm certain they are not here. I saw the bubble collapse from up there.” He pointed to the sky above the bridge. ”Everything-and everyone-inside the bubble was swept away and disappeared. They are gone, I'm afraid.”
”No, I saw her. Mom was herself again. Sam was alive. I am not going anywhere without them.” She fixed her eyes on the ruins of the bridge hanging out over the river. ”You said I could shape reality. What good is that if I can't help them?”
”You need to consider the repercussions of what you do and how it may affect things. If you alter this realm-”
”I know, consequences. Ping, this realm has already been altered. There are still dozens of people from the flight, from other realms, running around out there. Who's to say what I'm doing isn't supposed to fix things? And isn't it just as likely that doing nothing will have as many consequences as doing something?”