Dragons & Dwarves Read Online Free Page B

that, Julian Nesmith was one of a select few American public officials who didn’t have to stare into klieg lights and flashbulbs when she gave a press conference. She was also one of the few American public officials who would never need a microphone. An even five feet of pure adrenaline, she had one of those personalities that tore into a room like a rototiller into a vat of Jell-O.
    “I have a short statement, after which I’ll take a few questions.” She looked at the clock on the wall, hands gripping the sides of the podium. She was perched on a step stool that was invisible behind the podium, and the posture that resulted reminded me of an old revival preacher haranguing us sinners. “We’ll try to get this wrapped up by twelve.” I had no doubt, with Nesmith leading the proceedings, that by twelve-oh-one this room would be empty.
    “Between three-twenty and three-twenty-five this morning, several people in the Flats and surrounding areas reported seeing a dragon in an uncontrolled dive, heading for the Cuyahoga River. It struck a cargo ship, the Huron Star , that was anchored for loading at a facility on the west bank of the Cuyahoga River.
    “A forensic examination of the body began at five this morning, concluding fifteen minutes ago. The examination was supervised by Cuyahoga County Coroner Egil Nixon. Copies of the findings will be passed out at the conclusion of this press conference. To summarize the findings; the dragon has been identified as Aloeus, resident of 1000 Euclid Avenue.”
    There was an uncharacteristic wave of muttering, interrupting Director Nesmith. There were a few shouts, premature questions that were ignored. She waited patiently for the room to calm down.
    Aloeus was the first dragon—one of the first anything to come through to our side of the Portal.
    When the room calmed down, she continued. “Death came prior to impact due to multiple trauma caused by leaving the immediate influence of the Portal. In the opinion of Coroner Nixon, it is death by misadventure.”
    There was more commotion this time, but the director talked through it. “Because the body represents a present threat to public health and safety, I have authorized its disposal. The Coast Guard is currently towing the body a safe distance out into Lake Erie where it will be chemically treated and burned. I have five minutes to take questions.”
    A sandy-haired kid, half my age, from the Plain Dealer asked, “Have there been any estimates of the amount of damage?”
    Cut right to the chase, kid.
    “Approximately two hundred thousand—”
    My cell phone started vibrating at me. I had forgotten to turn it off. It was absolutely the wrong time, but I’m one of those guys who can’t stand to let a phone keep ringing. I flipped it open one-handed and whispered harshly, “This better be good.”
    There was a whistle of static on the line. Piercing, like trying to talk to a fax machine. There was a chorus of voices beneath it, mumbling, whispering. It was the common static from the Portal, but it felt sinister, and it didn’t go away the way it usually does when the phone finally deciphers the real signal.
    When sense wasn’t immediately forthcoming, I closed it.
    “. . . don’t know as of yet. I’ll direct you to the SPU liaison for that question.” O’Malley’s Special Paranormal Unit again. It was virtually an autonomous district within the Police Department, one of several outstanding gripes the Police Department had with City Hall. Hearing the initials made me severely pissed off that I’d missed the question.
    “Madam Director,” an older guy, from the Leader , was asking this one. “Don’t you have any reservations about the method used to dispose of—”
    My phone buzzed again.
    I pulled it out. “Goddamn it.” I kept my voice to a whisper, but some of my fellow pillars of the fourth estate turned to look in my direction.
    It didn’t surprise me this time when my ear was met with a piercing