Page 2 of The Shadows of Excess

Justice flashed me a grin, his eyes alight with fear and excitement. “I believe the cavalry has arrived,” he announced triumphantly.

“What?” I whispered, my voice barely audible over the dragon’s deep, resonant growls. The notion was absurd. That creature wasn’t the cavalry. It was a harbinger of our potential doom.

Then, a familiar voice cut through the chaos, “Sawyer? Dad?” It was unmistakably Damon, but it couldn’t be. The demons or Maci must have woven some spell, a trick of the mind.

My eyes widened in disbelief as I blinked away the surreal fog clouding my vision. There, astride the massive beast, were unmistakably human figures. I shook my head in denial. It was impossible.

“I’ll be damned,” Dad muttered under his breath, his voice a mix of awe and incredulity. He squinted as if trying to make sense of the impossible sight. “I’m either going batshit crazy, or that’s your brother riding a dragon.”

The dragon’s golden scales shimmered with each movement, reflecting the flickering light around us. Its breath was a furnace of heat washing over us, carrying the scent of sulfur and ash. The world seemed to stand still, the only reality being the mythic creature before us and its unexpected riders.

“Damon?” I whispered, my voice swallowed by the shadows.

Please-please-please be my brother.

A figure slid off the massive beast, landing on the floor with a practiced ease. In a few quick strides, he closed the distance. “Sawyer, you okay?” His voice carried unmistakable gruff concern, gaze scanning for any sign of injury. “Tell me you didn’t get bitten by one of those freaks.”

“Son?” Dad stepped closer to my brother.

Damon clasped his shoulders. “Dad, you’re alive.” His voice quivered with relief and surprise.

Dad gave a half-smirk, masking the depth of his own feelings with a characteristic quip. “Yeah, well, it takes more than a few ugly mugs to take me down. You should know that by now.”

The salty sting of tears burned my eyes as I stood between Damon and Dad. They were both tall and broad-shouldered, with matching chiseled jaws and bulging biceps from years of hard work. It was impossible to ignore the shared DNA that made them look like mirror images of each other.

A movement on top of the dragon caught my eye. Damon hadn’t been the only one who had succeeded in riding the dragon. Through the darkness, I caught a glimpse of someone with a long white beard and hair, their form shifting on top of the majestic golden dragon. My heart swelled with relief and joy as I recognized our grizzled leader of the Elders, Tim Shoneberg. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I looked at him with a wide smile.

He scowled down at us. “Idjits. Could we skip the happy reunion and get the hell out of here before those things come back for their noon feeding? Wouldn’t want any of your pretty faces to be lunch.” His usual pragmatic gruffness laced his tone.

Justice brushed past me, his hand confidently resting on the gold-scaled side of the towering dragon. “Sawyer, John.” He gave them a nonchalant gesture. “I’d like you to meet Dr. Gould, head of the Paranormal Mercenary Corp. Oh, and in case you were wondering, he’s a golden dragon.”

The creature released a low rumble of greeting.

Damon grabbed my hand, all business with his typical hint of urgency. “Everybody, we need to move before this whole place kisses the ground. Dr. Gould, in his dragon fanfare, trashed the stairwell. This building’s about to turn into a giant game of Jenga.”

I stared up at the massive, golden dragon, its scales shimmering like a sea of gilded armor under the flickering lights. The thought of climbing atop such a creature seemed nearly impossible. With a grace that belied its enormous size, the dragon lowered itself, resting its belly against the rubble-strewn floor.

“All right, let’s move!” Damon shouted over the growing rumble of the collapsing ceiling. The four of us approached the beast cautiously. Its heat was almost palpable, and the air around it vibrated with a deep, resonant hum.

I reached out, my hand trembling as I touched the coarse, warm scale. Using the ridges like footholds, I hoisted myself up. The dragon’s breathing was a steady, powerful gust, making the ascent feel like climbing through a storm.

Behind me, I heard the others following, their breaths quick with exertion and fear. Each movement we made caused the dragon’s scales to clink softly, a metallic symphony accompanying our desperate climb.

As I struggled to reach the top, Tim stretched out his arm. “Grab it, girl.”

I didn’t hesitate, and he hoisted me up onto the dragon’s broad, muscular back.

Chunks of debris rained down on us like bitter hail, clattered on the stone floor, and cracked into shards.

Damon scrambled up on the golden dragon’s back after Dad and settled in behind him. “Just in time!” he yelled over the deafening roar of destruction as a large section of the ceiling crashed down.

Tim gave the dragon’s side a firm pat, a no-nonsense look in his eyes. “All right, Dr. Gould, let’s get this show on the road,” he called, his voice almost lost amid the chaos of the crashing ceiling. Under his breath but loud enough for us to hear, he muttered, “Before this whole damn place comes down on our heads.”

The dust swirled around us like an oppressive fog, stinging my eyes and triggering an uncontrollable cough. Amid this chaos, a sense of surreal wonder overtook me. Here I was, riding this magnificent creature as it readied itself for flight. Its muscles rippled beneath me, a testament to the immense power it harnessed.

Suddenly, the dragon swung its mighty tail, a deliberate and powerful movement that took down a crumbling wall, creating a gaping hole above us. With a ground-shaking leap, it burst through the newly formed opening, its broad back carrying us into the open air. The scene below us was one of destruction. We were in the middle of the nave, where wooden pews lay splintered and destroyed, testament to the chaos that had unfolded.

On the altar stood Maci, her figure stark against the backdrop of devastation. Her voice, filled with fury and a promise of retribution, echoed through the crumbling space.

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