Promises and Powers (A Cat Among Dragons Book 4) Read online

  Promises and Powers: A Cat Among Dragons Collection

  By

  Alma T.C. Boykin

  Cover Art: Sherylenedesigns/ Elance.com

  Copyright 2014

  Table of Contents

  In the Beginning

  Help Wanted

  Green Paws

  Guardian

  Bonus Material

  Chapter One: In the Beginning - 1979

  “Colonel Hohen-Drachenburg, have you seen these?” Major General Karl Weizenfeld handed his chief-of-staff a file folder before sitting back to watch the Austrian’s reaction. That warned Joschka Graf von Hohen-Drachenburg that something might be brewing.

  Joschka glanced at the folder’s contents, then stopped and stared at the black-and-white photographs. Well, he thought, they are classified images; that much is obvious. And how much does anyone else know? Yes, he had seen those creatures before, but it had been over a century before, very far away from the army base near Graz, Austria. So he lied, a little. “No sir, I’ve not seen these pictures. Where are they from? And what were, or are, these things?” He pointed to the hexapedal, feather-covered beings.

  The Bohemian general shook his head. “No one knows, except that they tried to move into North America, near the Great Lakes. Fortunately for the Americans and Canadians, these things approached an Air Force base and the Americans fought them off, then tracked them back overland to their landing ship. The Americans have yet to explain how those creatures got through their radar tracking and surveillance network, let alone far enough overland to reach a military base unnoticed.” The general gave Joschka a sour look.

  “Lord have mercy,” Joschka breathed, trying to act impressed and amazed. So much for NORAD, he sighed to himself. I wonder how many people just got invited to seek other employment because of divert-shielding and camouflage holograms?

  “Apparently all those crazy science-fiction writers are not that crazy, since these things really exist. So,” Weizenfeld announced, “You’ve dealt with the bizarre before. I want you to find out if this is the first time something like this has occurred. If not, gather all the information available regarding other incursions and strange things.” He tapped the file. “Verifiable strange things, that is.”

  Joschka nodded. “Yes, sir. From Europe and North America, or all over?”

  “All over, as much as possible.” Weizenfeld and Hohen-Drachenburg both sighed a little. The general had not heard from a number of his relatives since his immediate family escaped Soviet-occupied Czechoslovakia in 1955 and he well knew exactly how closed-mouthed the Russians could be. Joschka for his part wasn’t fond of how stingily Americans doled out their information, but he’d learned some ways to work around their parsimony.

  “I’ll start work on this as soon as I’ve finished the maneuvers-demonstration schedule for the Prime Minister’s visit, sir,” Joschka promised, and his superior dismissed him back to work.

  So, how to go about finding information about things that people did not report for fear of being sent to the mental ward? Colonel Joschka Graf von Hohen-Drachenburg lit his pipe and stared out the window at the leafless chestnut trees beside the snow-covered parade ground. He puffed a smoke ring and mulled over the assignment. And wondered what a group of Zeelaknou had wanted on Earth.

  Over the next few weeks, the more Joschka dug, the more concerned he became. Especially after he found the incident in Russian Asia. They were lucky. He shook his head, whistling to himself as he read between the lines of the bare-bones account. We all were lucky. Blessed God, what if the Soviets hadn’t had a tactical nuke they could drop, or if the invaders had picked a more populated area? Or if the Russians weren’t so willing to use brute force? The Russians had passed the explosion off as a test of a small nuclear weapon, and as he thought about it, Joschka vaguely recalled reading the Japanese and Americans’ complaints about a test-ban violation a year or so ago. Joschka’s very, very secret contact knew otherwise, hinting that the Soviets had lost several hundred men before the Politburo “pushed the button.” Thus far, Earth and its creatures had been lucky. But good fortune always ran out, as Joschka knew well.

  He bundled his findings, stripped as much identifying data as he could from the Soviet information, and wrote up the report for General Weizenfeld. As far as “Col. von Hohen-Drachenburg” was concerned, that was the end of the matter and he turned his attention to other assignments. But “Joschka-the-concerned-resident” started keeping track of odd things as they came within his view. He thought back to long-ago lectures and tried to resurrect the knowledge he’d allowed himself to forget, information about planetary defense and characteristics that attracted invaders, and tried to recall all the aggressively expansive species within the Milky Way galaxy.

  Just over three months later, General Weizenfeld called Joschka into his office and told him to have a seat. The balding Bohemian tapped a rather thick file folder as he flicked ash off his cigarette with his other hand. “Do you remember the research I had you do about possible extraterrestrial invasion attempts?”

  “Yes, sir,” Joschka nodded.

  “Continue it. I can’t say more than that for right now, but I want you to keep up with anything else you might find.” Weizenfeld inhaled deeply before knocking more ash off his cigarette. “This has been updated with material from other concerned sources,” and he pushed the folder towards Joschka. “Apparently there’s been more ‘interesting events’ than I’d imagined.”

  Joschka studied the ribbon-tied collection. “Question, sir?”

  “Yes?”

  “Ah, does anyone else think that these describe actual space invaders?”

  Weisenfeld blew a stream of cigarette smoke towards the ceiling. “They do, Drachenburg. That’s all you need to know for the moment.”

  He knew a dismissal when he heard one and Joschka took the folder and returned to his own spotlessly neat office. He had a positive allergy to disorderly paperwork, in distinct contrast to his propensity for chaos in battle. Not that an Austrian officer in his 40s knew much about combat aside from exercises, observation, and histories, of course. Or so his human colleagues assumed.

  Joschka settled down and since he had a few spare moments, began skimming the additions to his research. Even the little he read before having to leave for a budget hearing was enough to renew his earlier concerns. Some things matched events he’d found on his own, but the new bits from South America worried him. There were a lot of places on Earth where invaders could land and hide, despite the Americans’ and Soviets’ claims about watching everything that moved. Joschka locked the file in the emptiest of his desk drawers and hurried off to the meeting.

  Three weeks later, Joschka drove up the winding Tyrolean mountain road that led to the Drachental. As small as Austria is, and as limited as a neutral country’s military duties are, you would think I could manage more leave time, he sighed to himself. He missed his family keenly and wished he could spend more time at Schloss Hohen-Drachenburg. But no, it had never quite worked as planned. I just have to make up for lost time, and Joschka made himself settle down before his imagination and memory conspired to distract him too much for safety. This was the season when people drove their cattle and sheep up to summer grazing on the alpine pastures and he did not need to come around a curve at ninety kilometers per hour and meet a cow procession. Magda would kill me, even if I didn’t survive the wreck, he grinned. He was, after all, driving her late father’s favorite vehicle, an Italian sports car built between the two World Wars.

  As soon as he passed into the Drachenburg family’s traditional holdings, Joschka felt the recent tension l
ifting away like low clouds under the morning sun. He wasn’t tied as closely to the land as Magda was, but even he could sense the Power’s approval of his return. Joschka slowed the car further and started paying close attention to the land around him, noting the state of the hay meadows and crops. Spring had come early this year, Magda had written him, and the apple and pear trees were already setting fruit. The local dialect named the warm spring winds “the dragons’ breath.” If so, they were benevolent creatures indeed, giving the valley a longer growing season than one would expect for the altitude and latitude. Despite that advantage it remained a hard place to farm and every year more young people abandoned the land for the variety and ease of urban life in Salzburg, Graz, Vienna, and other cities, much to Magda and Joschka’s regret.

  He pulled into the gates of Schloss Hohen-Drachenburg too late for coffee and too early for supper. Joschka stepped out of the car and stretched, smiling to see the old almond trees in their huge pots decorating the courtyard. “Welcome home, my lord,” Willi, the family’s chauffer-mechanic offered as he took Joschka’s bag out of the car’s small excuse for a trunk.

  “Thank you Willi. It’s good to be home. Have you made any more progress on the Maybach?” Joschka inquired.

  The old man looked sober, but winked. “Yes, my lord. She’ll need a light hand, but she’s ready to drive again.” Joschka nodded with appropriate gravity and winked back. Joschka started to comment but the sight of the red haired woman standing at the head of the steps leading to the main door redirected his attention.

  “Good work,” he said, turning to cross the stone and gravel courtyard. He climbed three steps, paused and bowed, kissing his wife’s extended hand. “My lady,” Joschka smiled up into her beautiful green eyes as he straightened from the very old-fashioned courtesy.

  “Welcome home, my lord Colonel,” Magda Maria Gräfin von Hohen-Drachenburg replied as formally, then embraced him as he climbed the final step to where she stood. Husband and wife lowered their mental defenses and savored the physical and mental contact. Then she stepped back, scolding mildly, “We didn’t get word of your return until half an hour ago,” when he’d entered the valley.

  “I didn’t know if I could get away until I left the cantonment gates this morning, my lady,” he explained, leading the way through the heavy wood and iron doors into the main hall of the old manor house/fortress he now called home. Joschka froze when he saw an unexpected visitor. “Johann! Are classes finished already?” The young man, a taller version of his father, snapped almost to attention, his blue eyes wide with surprise.

  “They are for me, Father,” his oldest son informed the equally surprised Graf. “The five students with the highest academic scores and fewest demerits are exempt from final exams. We were given the option of taking four days extra leave,” he explained with a huge grin.

  “That’s wonderful! Well done, Johann, very well done.” Joschka gave him a bear hug. “You obviously inherited your mother’s intelligence, because I never did that well,” he chuckled. Magda shook her head and sighed as the two men inspected each other.

  Whatever she had been about say was drowned in the clatter of three more young arrivals. “Papa! You’re home!” the youngest girl called, rushing up and hugging her father. If Johann resembled his father, Elizabet took after her mother. Peter and Maria had reached the stage where they were too cool to hug their father, especially one so old-fashioned as to have a military career. Joschka contented himself with handshakes and hair ruffling.

  “Joschka, Johann, why don’t you both go change into something more comfortable,” Magda suggested. After twenty plus years of marriage, Joschka knew better than to take her idea as other than an order and he smiled and complied, leaving the younger children pestering Johann about the new award ribbons on his cadet tunic. Joschka had just finished buttoning his shirt when Magda appeared in the doorway. She shut the door to their suite behind her and kissed him with passion made warmer by his five months’ absence.

  “Ah, my lady of the mountains, I love you so much,” Joschka whispered into her ear. He smiled up into her beautiful eyes, an unusual grass green that glowed with her happiness at his return. What had begun as a marriage of necessity had deepened into a true love match and neither spouse cared to imagine life without the other.

  She’d been almost desperate to marry; or rather the House had been almost desperate that she marry someone acceptable and capable of taking the headship of House Drachenburg, as well as acting as war lord if the need arose. Magda had encouraged his attentions, eventually offering him all that he’d dreamed of: a home, the chance to raise a family, and the possibility of a comfortable future. She’d also been completely honest about not being in love with him. He in turn had confided his origins to her, and had been relieved to learn that House Drachenburg had sheltered a few other Half Dragons over the centuries, although none from other worlds and times. After several years and four children they’d found friendship and tolerance shifting into love, even before Joschka became the Graf in truth as well as in title following the battle with the so-called witches.

  “You may not love me so much when you see what is waiting on your desk,” she cautioned him with a smile.

  “An invitation from your third cousin twice removed to help redeem the family honor by paying off a gambling debt?” He guessed with a chuckle.

  She shook her head, red-blond curls bouncing. “A hunting invitation from a Mr. Morris, esquire, and the updated tax appraisal.” They sighed in chorus.

  “Strange, I don’t remember reading about paying property taxes in any of the family dragon tales and fables.” Joschka put on his favorite, rather worn, moleskin jacket. The stone house stayed chill well into summer and he always needed a day or so to get used to the coolness.

  Magda just patted his arm, kissed him again and went to see to something while the he finished unpacking. Joschka almost left his uniform on the bed for Karl-Heinz to put away but he was too well trained. Instead he hung it carefully in the wardrobe, making certain that the creases remained intact after the drive. Then he went downstairs to the snug office attached to the library and laid some papers on the small desk. As he did, he remembered what Magda had said about the piece of cherry-wood furniture. “My lord father had it made small so that fewer papers could take up permanent residence.” Joschka had never met the old Graf but found his philosophy to be sound.

  The family ate supper outside on the terrace overlooking the Drachental. Honey-colored light sweetened the warm evening and the children managed to get through the meal without squabbling too much. It was, Joschka thought, everything he had dreamed of and he thanked his God again for the wonder of it all. Dessert in the form of a strawberry tart left everyone too full to do more than shift their chairs around and talk. Joschka soon learned all the latest news from school, the gossip from the valley, and developed a suspicion that Peter just might have a girlfriend. Around eight Magda shooed the youngest three off to their rooms. “It is a school night, even if you father did get home today,” she reminded them sternly. “Homework!”

  Despite his best intentions, Johann started yawning not too much later. “I shouldn’t be this tired this early!” he exclaimed.

  Joschka blew a smoke ring and smiled. “You’ve been up since 0500, navigated the train system and walked several kilometers, then ate one of Frau Margoli’s suppers. I’m surprised you didn’t fall asleep in the soup,” he teased his son.

  The boy colored faintly, then matched his father’s slightly wicked expression. “At least I did not doze off in a tree-stand and miss a shot at a twelve point buck, oh honored sire,” he reminded Joschka. The HalfDragon took the hit graciously. After a few more minutes Johann excused himself, leaving Joschka alone to bask in the sunset. Around nine, as the first stars appeared in the twilight-pale sky, he finally forced himself out of the chair. He went upstairs and tucked a yawning but still reluctant Elizabet into bed, waved to the middle two and shook his head at Johann’s
rumbling snore. Even teenaged energy ran out, especially after a week of academic and physical tests.

  Joschka met Magda in the hall and offered her his arm. She accepted and they walked down the broad stairs to the main hall, then proceeded into the library. He shut the doors and fixed her a drink before taking his seat across from her. As he did, they both felt a sense of welcome and rightness as the Power and the other members of the House registering their approval. From their seats, Joschka and Magda completed what Joschka’s old friend Rada Ni Drako would have called a power circuit, allowing the couple to feel the flows of energy through out their territory. Or at least Magda could.

  Joschka smothered a frustrated sigh. He still couldn’t sense the forces at play as easily as his wife did, even though he was Head of the House and Guardian of the Drachental. Perhaps it was because of his long absences from the area. Magda hardly ever left the House’s territory any more, but Joschka had to travel if he wished to continue his military career. He relaxed into the old wooden chair, eyes half-closed as he worked to feel the currents surrounding him. Joschka didn’t find anything untoward, nor did Magda bring anything to his attention. After a few minutes she finished her drink and turned her attention to something more mundane. He needed a little longer before bringing his full awareness back to the library. “Tomorrow’s the quarter moon, is it not?” he asked.

  “Yes, it is. Do you want to visit the rest of the House?” she replied. Her hands stayed busy embroidering what looked like an abstract pattern in blues on fine cream-colored material.

  “Weather permitting.” Climbing the mountain trail in a thunderstorm held no appeal for him even though, or perhaps especially though, the House would protect him from lightning. Joschka’s mind still balked at some things that Magda and the children accepted as completely normal. He didn’t care to think about getting struck and coming out unharmed: it was just too strange. Yes, this from a man who has no difficulty with plasma-diffusion armor, he chuckled to himself.