Dragon Coast by Greg van Eekhout Page A

readying to kick out a window and jump, choosing the time and manner of his own death. Cassandra tightened her boot laces. She made a twirly finger gesture at Gabriel and mouthed, “Turn around.”
    The plane hit. Gabriel’s teeth clacked together, and he felt the impact in the small of his back. Not until water splashed across the windshield and the pilot nodded contentedly did he realize they hadn’t crashed. They’d merely made the water landing. The pontoons kicked up rooster tails as the plane skidded to a stop.
    â€œWell, I got you here,” the pilot said. “Hope that was the most dangerous part of whatever it is you folks are doing.”
    â€œWouldn’t that be great?” Gabriel said, unbuckling. “Have a good flight back.”
    A howl of wind brought fresh salvos of driving rain.
    Securing his backpack, he followed Max and Cassandra, leaping from the rear compartment hatch to a tiny wooden fishing pier. The pilot gave them a two-fingered wave through the cockpit window, and a few minutes later, he was back in the air, leaving them in enemy territory.
    The way from the shore to the tree line was a muddy slog, but it would have been worse without the magic Daniel had cooked into the treads of their hiking boots. There’d be miles to go before reaching the Hetch Hetchy dam, and they needed to get there before daylight.
    They hunkered among the trees on a sodden carpet of leaves and pine needles. Rain streamed from the upper limbs.
    â€œSmell anything, Max?” Cassandra whispered.
    Max sniffed the air. “I smell millions of things.”
    â€œOkay,” Cassandra said, wiping water from her face with both hands. “When I ask you a question, you need to answer it.”
    â€œDo what she says, Max,” Gabriel said.
    Max sniffed in Cassandra’s direction and averted his face, his version of giving her the middle finger. “If I picked up something scary I would have brought it to your attention without you having to ask. Just because we’re on a suicide mission doesn’t mean I want to die.”
    Cassandra stepped briskly off into the rain. “Let’s move out. Gabriel, keep up with me.”
    Gabriel huffed, jogging to catch up. “Things starting off a little tense, aren’t they?”
    â€œI don’t want you interceding between me and Max. When I give an instruction to either of you, follow it. Do it for the good of the job, and do it to stay alive. You’re not in Los Angeles anymore.”
    â€œI don’t normally resort to saying this kind of thing, but you are talking to a very powerful person right now.”
    â€œThere’s snot running out of your nose, grand mage.”
    Gabriel opened his mouth to respond but then stumbled over a tree root. He would have gone face-forward into the mud had Cassandra not caught him by the arm. Declarations of one’s power were much less impressive after demonstrating one wasn’t even very good at walking.
    â€œMax and I have been close for a long time,” he said, recovering. “We bonded when people were trying to kill us. That kind of thing tends to solidify a friendship, and we rely on each other.”
    â€œHe’s still your dog, and you’re his master. He’ll have to take directions from me and not expect a biscuit.”
    Despite the chilling rain, heat rose to Gabriel’s face.
    â€œHe’s not a dog. He’s a man. And he’s my friend.”
    â€œAll right. That was … yeah, I’m sorry.” They trudged on a few more steps in the muck. “Just the same, do whatever you have to do to keep him in line without undermining my authority.”
    Gabriel might have said something else if he hadn’t tripped over another root. This time, Cassandra let him fall, and he tasted wet, frigid earth.
    *   *   *
    Dawn cast an amber glow over O’Shaughnessy Dam, a four-hundred-foot wall of concrete