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Driving the Last Spike Ch. 01

By: Thistlethorn



 (c) Edited by Penn Lady

This is a copyrighted work of fiction. All rights reserved. 

*

Dakota drove down the snowy lane towards her new house, returning home from her shift at the library. The drifted snow to either side glittered brightly in the moon light. Classes had resumed following the Christmas break and the many new students starting the semester were in and out of the library assessing the resources. They were getting a jump studying for the semester, researching for early assignments, or just looking for something to read. It had been a long night, but soon she would be home.

As she arrived, Dakota reflected on the vast changes that had recently occurred in her life. Her new lover, Sebastian, was a dragon who until a few months past had been human. Their intertwined paths had been equal parts harrowing and beautiful, and for all the uncanniness that came with it she wouldn't trade a moment of the wonderment. 

Pushing an errant lock of blond hair out of her face, she grabbed her backpack and turned off the engine. She exited the car and dashed into the utility room out of the cold and snow. Once there, she discarded her outerwear, kicked off her snow-covered boots, went into the kitchen and fished for a book in her backpack. She smiled as she sensed Sebastian at the back door. 

The back door opened and Sebastian entered with a cold draft and a small sweep of snow as Dakota turned to face him. Her smile grew broader as she took in his human form. He wasn't much taller than she was, perhaps two inches above her five six. Where Dakota was athletic, his build was lithe and he moved with a graceful ease that reminded Dakota of his dragon form. 

He closed the distance between them in a few steps and enfolded Dakota in a hug, the backpack momentarily forgotten. 

"I've missed you," he said. 

She embraced him in return. "I missed you too." 

They stood in silence for several moments just enjoying each others presence. Then Dakota turned to her backpack. 

"I've got something here I want to show you," she said. Removing a large hardcover book, she turned to Sebastian while flipping through the pages. "Here it is." 

She moved the book close to Sebastian, her finger resting next to a figure in a photograph. "Who does that look like to you?" 

Sebastian studied the photograph. It was on old black and white picture of a group of workers, mostly Asian, gathered around their tools. The figure Dakota indicated did look familiar. A tall, regal man with his long black hair tied into a braid and a scowl on his face. 

"Qiang?" he asked, surprised.

"That's what I thought," Dakota responded, moving the book back in front of herself. 

"What's the book about?"

"The building of the American railroad. An engineering student came in to the library today looking for reference material for a report he was working on about the human cost of engineering." 

"The human cost?" Sebastian asked. 

"Yeah, you know how many people died or were terribly injured in building things like the Brooklyn Bridge, the American railroad, or some of the high rise skyscrapers when they were first going up. Stuff like that." 

"I guess I can see that. But what would Qiang be doing working for the railroad?" 

Dakota shrugged, returning the book to her backpack. "I don't know, but I thought we might go ask tomorrow, before the restaurant opens." 

"I guess it's worth a try, but he can be tight lipped about his past." 

"Well, if he says no, he says no." 

*******************

They arrived at the restaurant around ten in the morning, an hour before opening. Qiang was out sweeping new fallen snow from the sidewalk. He stopped his work as the car pulled up and waved to them as they got out. He returned to his work, his back to his visitors. A Cheshire cat grin spread across Sebastian's face as he gathered up some snow and packed it in his hands. 

"What are you doing?" Dakota asked. 

I'm going to throw a snowball at Qiang, he answered back mentally. 

Dakota sighed and shook her head. "You want to die." 

Sebastian let fly with his weapon. His aim was true, and the projectile was on what appeared to be the correct trajectory. Then in a burst of flame the snowball ceased to exist when it was about a foot away from Qiang.

"Oh, that is so not fair," Sebastian groused. 

Qiang laid his broom against a low brick wall that formed a planter in front of the building. 

"Perhaps," he conceded in an even, slightly amused tone as he gathered snow into his hands from the low wall. "But there are those who would say an unprovoked sneak attack is dishonorable and must be answered." He finished packing the snowball and turned to face Dakota and Sebastian. "The question now becomes, what will you do to avoid my attack." Before Sebastian could react Qiang made his return strike, hitting Sebastian square on. 

"Absolutely nothing. What an interesting strategy." 

Sebastian recovered quickly. "Of course you know, this means war." 

Qiang raised an eyebrow. "You're kidding me, right?" 

By way of reply, Sebastian began to gather more snow. 

"As you wish." Qiang's tone held equal parts humor and warning as he gathered his arsenal. 

Dakota took a step back, hoping not to be drawn, or impressed, into the coming battle. For all its intensity, the skirmish was short lived. Sebastian applied the tactics he learned in countless previous snow battles, but Qiang seemed to deduce his strategies rather quickly. Even so, amidst much advancing, retreating, and maneuvering, as well as copious amounts of snow exchanged by both sides, a decisive victory proved elusive. 

During the exchange, however, Sebastian observed something he had never seen before. Qiang laughing. There had always been a wall between them. To Sebastian's sensibilities it was there to starkly define the differences between them. In that moment, Sebastian dared to hope there was a chance of opening a door through the wall. This more than anything made him reluctant to end the fight and so he pressed all the harder. But when a ill aimed snow ball went wide of its mark and nearly hit Dakota, both of them stopped to assess any damage. 

Dakota peered around from the snow spattered book she held before her face. 

"Is it safe? Are you two are done now?" Dakota asked. 

"Yes," Qiang and Sebastian both replied, knocking snow off themselves. 

"Nice block," Qiang added. 

"Thanks." Dakota dusted the snow off the book. She handed it to Qiang, opening it to a marked page. He took it, a look of curiosity on his face. 

"I was wondering if that was you, if you don't mind my asking." 

Qiang looked at the book, his expression becoming wistful. "I have not seen this in many, many years," he said softly. 

"So that is you?" Dakota asked. 

Without looking from the book Qiang answered, "Yes. Yes it is. Good eye." 

Sebastian cocked his head. "Why were you there?" he asked, trying to imagine Qiang as a workman. 

Qiang closed the book and leaned against the planter wall. His look was distant, but not angry. It was reflective, and very similar to how Chang was when he thought of the past. 

"And thereby hangs a tale." He was silent again for a moment, apparently considering something, before adding, "If you are interested in hearing it, come by after the restaurant closes tonight and I will tell you. Please let Chang know he is also welcome, if he's interested." 

*********************

Later that night, at about eleven, Dakota pulled into the nearly deserted parking lot with Chang and Sebastian accompanying her. She paused for a moment after turning off the car. 

"It's strange," she said. "Qiang seems like such a closed book." 

"Hmm," Chang ruminated from the backseat. "Sometimes, even the most closed books want to be opened. I think his life is very isolated." 

Dakota nodded as she opened her door. "I imagine it is." 

Sebastian climbed out of the front passenger side door. "I think it's kind of cool, him talking to us." 

"Oh, I agree. This isn't bad. Just strange." 

Chang smiled and exited the car. "Let us hope it is the start of much good strangeness." 

They crossed the parking lot and found the restaurant door unlocked. Entering, they were greeted by Qiang and Mingzhu as they rose from a table. Qiang smiled graciously while Mingzhu grinned.

"I'm glad you were able to make it," he said as he went to lock the doors. "Please, come with me." 

Qiang led his guests through the restaurant to the kitchen, then to his office. He paused at the abstract flame-like tapestry at the far wall. He brushed his hand across it and it flared into living flame.

Dakota and Chang had both witnessed this before. Sebastian had not. He inhaled sharply and took a step back, surprised and deeply impressed with the display of magic. As the flame parted showing some sort of space beyond, Qiang bowed indicating with his free hand that they should enter. 

Dakota slipped her arm around Sebastian's, leading him in. 

"So this is what you were telling me about?" he asked as they crossed the threshold. 

"Yes." Dakota nodded. 

"Wow," Sebastian whispered as his gaze traveled the space. 

"Tell me about it." 

Sebastian nodded absently as seemingly endless impressions assaulted his senses. Flickering fire light was the only light source in the room, casting odd shadows on the walls, furniture, and scattered throw pillows. The smells of the place were rich and hard to define. The heat, generated by several burning braziers, was stifling. Especially when compared the to winter river he'd been more accustomed to. The thing that struck Sebastian most strongly, though, was the overwhelming sense of Qiang that pervaded the space. He found it intimidating. His body involuntarily clenched around his pearl and he became aware of a growing need to shift crawling up his spine. 

Dakota pressed in close. "Are you all right?" she asked. 

Sebastian shook his head, unsure of how to describe what he was experiencing. Then Qiang was beside him. 

"You are a welcome guest here. Be at ease," he said softly. 

Sebastian startled, then nodded. Though he felt strangely relieved at the words, he was still agitated. Qiang took a step back and gestured to Dakota to follow him. 

"Shift, if that will make you more comfortable." 

Sebastian nodded. "I think that will, thank you," he said as he released the human form with a sigh. The blue dragon he became settled, trembling, among the pillows. Instinctively, he reached out for the river and was comforted by its shifting presence. A few deep breaths restored his equilibrium. He looked up to see the others watching him. Dakota with concern, Qiang with uncertainty, and Chang with calm patience. 

"Um, sorry," he said sheepishly looking down. "I don't know what that was all about." 

Chang walked over to Sebastian with a reassuring smile. "You are in the lair of an occasional rival. That there would be some discomfiture is not surprising. I was hoping there might not be, but it was not as bad as it could have been." He drew his hand down Sebastian's snout in a gesture of comfort, then walked past him to assume his dragon form behind Sebastian. His enormous length coiled effortlessly around the space, a glittering inky blackness in the shadows. 

Qiang assumed his dragon form. Resplendent red and gold scales reflected the dancing firelight as he arranged himself. His neck was arched elegantly. He waited for Mingzhu and Dakota to make themselves comfortable against himself and Sebastian respectively, then started. 

"I suppose the most pertinent place to begin is to say the end of my fledgling years corresponded to the end of the second Opium War." 

Chang made a sound of surprise. Sebastian and Dakota turned to look at him. 

"I should have seen that, given your age," he said, thoughtful. "I'm sorry I did not." 

Qiang shook his head. "It doesn't really matter, not anymore." 

"I think it might." 

Sebastian looked between them, loath to admit his ignorance. "I'm sorry," he said after a moment's hesitation. "But what are the Opium Wars? I mean, I've heard the term but I really don't know anything about them." 

"Of course you don't," Qiang quipped, with humor in his tone. Then he became serious. "The Opium Wars were two conflicts between China and England about the import and sale of opium to the Chinese."

When Qiang didn't continue, Chang added, "That was part of it." 

"Oh? What would you add?" Qiang asked, curious. 

Chang paused a moment in thought. "I will say unequivocally that opium was a bane to the Chinese people and the English government the aggressor both in its proliferation and the Opium Wars themselves. However, it is also possible for both sides of a conflict to be equally wrong. The meeting of East and West could have been, should have been, an unprecedented opportunity for learning and growth." Chang's expression became one of disdain, a look he rarely wore. "Both sides squandered it egregiously." 

Qiang nodded, his expression distant. "I can't say that isn't a fair assessment, though for the actual wars, I was still a fledgling and knew little about the details of the conflict. As I said, my fledgling years ended in 1860, the same year as the Opium Wars. One of the...terms of the treaty gave British ships the right to transport Chinese indentured servants to America for work on the American Railroad."

"You weren't an indentured servant," Sebastian stated.

"No, but a friend of mine was. His name was Fai, and he had no idea as to my true nature..." 

**********

Fai waited for his friend Qiang by a moon gate bathed in the late morning sun. The gate and its gardens were some of the few things left standing following the Taiping rebellion. As much as he was heartsick at what was to come in his life, at least he would no longer have to see the devastation of his homeland. As he listened to the gentle splash of water made by the fountains, he thought about his friend.

He had known Qiang for a few years and still knew precious little about him. He had many times told himself the next time he saw Qiang he would ask the myriad of questions he had. What was his family name, what village was he from? What prefecture, what province? But whenever they were together it seemed these questions would just leave his mind and not reoccur until well after they separated again. Fai's family did not trust this strange man, thinking he must be a bandit or some other form of outlaw to not reveal such information. Fai did not think so, however, and simply stopped mentioning his visits once he became an adult. 

Fai leaned against the moon gate wall. It seemed strange that he would soon be revealing dark family news to a man he knew both so well and so little, but his heart was heavy with it and he needed some sort of solace. In truth, Qiang was one of the few friends he had and was the one he trusted the most. 

He had arrived early for their meeting and was surprised when Qiang showed up but a short time after Fai himself had arrived. Qiang shouted out a happy greeting as he came over, then saw the look Fai wore. 

"What is the matter?" he asked. 

Fai sighed. "I'm going to America to do work," he responded, looking away. 

"America?" Qiang asked, disbelief in his voice. 

"Yes," Fai replied with a shrug, turning back. "My father incurred a gambling dept and this is how he has to pay it off. The farm is in ruins and can no longer provide income. There's really not much to be done for it." 

"When are you leaving?" 

"Two days time. I have some business I need to finish this afternoon, but maybe we can have a drink tonight? Tomorrow night I want to spend with my family before I leave that morning." 

"Certainly," Qiang answered, though his mind was already elsewhere. "I'll even buy." 

Qiang stood his ground, the austere beauty of the mountain side all around him. There was a thick forest around him, the ancient trees reaching endlessly for the sky and digging deeply into the earth. The sky, where it could be seen, was deep azure blue, the air clean and just the slightest bit cool. 

However, the beauty of the spirit world was lost on him in that moment. His twenty-five foot length was tense, with claws dug deep into the ground of the plateau. Red scales and gold underscales crackled with his barely contained anger. His similarly colored mane shifted in the heat that was rising off him, waving about his antlers. 

The object of his stand off, his elder Zongxian, stood equally unmovable. The much greater length melded neatly with the surroundings. His immense coils were scaled with dark green making the gold highlights stand out, the underscales were likewise gold, and in places rested within the ground. In contrast, his mane hung neatly about his face and antlers. He appeared almost impassive, but Qiang knew better and lashed his tail about in agitation. His elder was not impassive, merely too long attached to his mountain. 

Zongxian regarded his impetuous youngling with a sigh. "Why is it always the fire-bound ones that give me such trouble? At least a water-dragon or earth-dragon will find a place and settle. Even an air-dragon settles the sky over a particular region. But a fire dragon? Off you go, everywhere. And you want to go to America, of all places." Zongxian shook his head and the end of his rant. Then, he set out to convince his youngling to stay. 

"Look, it seems this is the business of his family, not the concern of Heaven." 

"It's not right he has to go to some foreign land due to the behavior of his parent. He has committed no wrong and accrued no debt. Why isn't it the concern of Heaven that someone is being misused?" 

"It's not so simple as that," Zongxian explained. "Their dynamics are theirs to create and implement. That is free will. Your friend is perfectly able to refuse and go his own way. Heaven would not interfere in that either." 

"But he would never do that." 

"And that is his choice." 

"It's not right." 

"Perhaps not, but it is their way. What would you have Heaven do? Negate free will when the outcome displeases us? Or you? Then what is its point?"

Qiang looked away, his proud snout curled into a snarl. Once again, Zongxian reflected on the difficulty of the fire-bound. 

"You feel everything with such intensity, Qiang, and that is becoming a most distressing fact. It seems the concerns of the moment forever eclipse your ability to consider the concerns of tomorrow, or even the next moment. Clearly, the long view eludes you." Zongxian could not hide his frustration, nor did Qiang think he tried to. 

Zongxian sighed as he weighed his options. Dragons were rare, only becoming more so in these later years. There were only three other fledglings hatched in the same cycle as Qiang, and he was the strongest by far. Even now, barely out of his fledgling period, Zongxian could see the power dancing just under the surface. Waiting to burst out like a wild fire. He was loathe to let him leave. 

However, free will also applied to dragons and Qiang could go with or without Zongxian's blessing, or even his permission. To judge from what the elder dragon could tell, the younger might do just that. At least if Zongxian took control of the endeavor he could hope to partially direct Qiang's actions. 

"It would seem you are set on this course. So be it. You can't interfere with their decisions, but you may accompany this mortal and see to his safety. However, you are not to reveal your nature." 

Qiang's hopeful look curdled at the last condition. "If I'm not to reveal my nature, what would you have me do?" 

Zongxian shrugged expansively. "Join as another worker." At Qiang's look of disgust Zongxian added, "If he's that important, that is what you must do." 


Driving the Last Spike Ch. 01



Qiang raised his head proudly. "So be it." 

"Joining us?" Fai repeated, shocked. "For what reason?" 

Qiang sat back in his simple wood slat chair, nursing his drink. Fai had originally suggested opium, but Qiang had forcefully refused. "The barbarians call it 'chasing the dragon.' I think it sounds exotic," Fai explained, then couldn't understand why Qiang found it offensive. Not that Qiang explained why. 

"Perhaps I want to see the world," he said, reflective. 

"Then see the world. My understanding is that the work gangs don't show you all that much of it." 

Qiang shrugged. "I imagine that's true. Picking up extra money isn't a bad thing either. But come, let's not spend the night talking of such bad things. Sooner than we like, our time will belong to others, so let's enjoy it while we can." 

With that, all further questions simply faded from Fai's mind and they spent the rest of the evening enjoying dinner and drinks. 

As Qiang left the simple tavern, he passed an old ghost on the road. 

"I know why you're going, dragon," he said. 

Qiang turned, stepping into the spirit world to speak privately with the spirit. "Yes, grandfather, and why is that?" he asked with a bow. 

The spirit seemed pleased with receiving an honorific from a dragon, even a young one. "You go to protect Fai. Not that we don't appreciate this, but his family has guardians and we will be handling this, Revered One. This is our responsibility."  

Qiang dipped his head in an acknowledging nod, a respectful smile on his face as his pearl flared angry in his gut. "Of course. I understand there are no doubt ancient and auspicious guardians attending him and his family. And if you could do something to illustrate to the patriarch of this family why he should tend first to his responsibilities and not spend the family's money on his own pleasures perhaps Fai wouldn't need so much protecting." 

*************************

"Seriously dude, you just snarked off to the guys guardians?" Sebastian asked in disbelief. Even Chang looked askance. 

Qiang sighed and shook his head. "Not the wisest of all possible options, I'll concede. But my temper tended to get the better of me back then." 

"Back then?" Chang asked with a small smile. 

Qiang looked over to Chang with a put upon look. "Nonetheless..." 

*************************

The morning of the departure Qiang appeared surreptitiously among the workers. None took notice of his appearance. He worked his way through the crowds looking for Fai. He saw him with his family and decided not to go over until they departed. Qiang was aware of their concerns regarding him and while he could normally concede their point, the revelation that Fai's predicament was caused by his father guaranteed Qiang would not hold his tongue. So he passed the time observing the other workers. Some bid farewell to parents, as Fai was, others to children, and still others to lovers. He saw many openly weep as the fabric of their lives was torn asunder. He could feel the desperate prayers of both the men leaving and the families left behind. 

Qiang felt himself moved by their plight in a profound way. For the first time in his contentious relationship with Heaven, Qiang earnestly sought help. He prayed for guidance and strength as the realization that the prayers of these peoples, both those departing and those who must carry on in their devastated absence, may lay in Heaven's hands but were equally on his head. He started to realize just how excruciating this endeavor was going to become. 

*************************

"That must have been an exceedingly difficult scene to witness," Chang commented softly. 

Sebastian, caught up in Qiang's narrative, watched him closely. He could see not only the distance Qiang tried to conjure, but the trembling depth of emotion it brought up in him. Dakota felt tears welling up in her own eyes, as did Mingzhu. 

"I can still hear the children's cries, still see the tears as they said good-bye to their fathers. Or the tears of those who said farewell to their children, their spouses, their lovers. The memories of those left behind still haunt me. And the many that never found their way back. I suspect it always will." He paused, silent for a long moment as Mingzhu gently stroked his mane. 

"But then came the sea voyage," he said. "And while it was perhaps not as difficult as the departure, it was its own kind of hell." 

"How so?" Sebastian asked. 

"Not only was I a fire dragon on a highly flammable, and overcrowded, wooden boat, I was surrounded by water. Water that held its own dragons who had their own opinions on uppity Chinese fire dragons who impertinently wandered too far from the mainland..."

*************************

The crowded conditions of the ship were not to Qiang's liking. Barely enough space to lie down was accorded to each traveler and their belongings. Additionally, toilet accommodations were woefully lacking and basic hygiene was non-existent. It was nearly intolerable to Qiang who, at the best of times, required distance and boundaries from either people or dragons. But he resolutely endured the voyage, refusing to even temporarily abandon the responsibilities he undertook for a brief respite in the spirit world. 

After three weeks, on the first full moon of the voyage, he could abstain no longer. Though he could sense the energy of the moon, none of the light penetrated the depth of the hull. All Chinese dragons had a connection to the moon through their pearls, and they had access to her power and wisdom. And like all Chinese dragons, Qiang dearly loved and longed for the moon. It was one of the few things he actually shared with Zongxian. Drawn by the longing the moon called out of him, Qiang carefully made his way to the top deck then slid to the spirit world. 

The ship didn't look much different in the spirit world. Even with the moonlight playing off the wood, there was still much darkness. Qiang sighed. Considering how many in the human cargo were falling ill, it wasn't a surprise. Zongxian's admonishment to conceal his nature rang in Qiang's memory and limited what he could do. Dysentery and scurvy and other disorders were not beyond him to cure, but not as a simple worker. Qiang sighed again and leaned against the side of the boat. He was tutoring the medic as well as he could, but the man was frustratingly thick-witted and wouldn't listen. 

He turned his face to the moon and sought her council. As her essence filled him and tickled his pearl, he opened himself up to receive more. Soon the tickle became a caress and his dragon form sought release. At first he firmly resisted. Then realizing as he stood in the spirit world no one would know, he fully surrendered to the call of the moon. 

His serpentine body spread out along the back of the ship. Though it was a good size ship, and his manifestation was in the spirit world, the boat still dipped slightly with the encumbrance. Qiang settled as the boat accepted his weight. 

The moonlight seemed to concentrate on him and he drank in as much as he could get. The feel of the moon gathering in his pearl was pure bliss and Qiang forgot his questions and concerns for that time. Soon, he felt over-full and bloated with the moon. His reverie broke and he concentrated on the moon. 

Take it he heard on the moon-lit breeze. Take it and spread it amongst the sick. This is my gift and Heaven need be none the wiser. 

Qiang smiled and set to his task. He sifted the energy through him and dispersed it as far and wide through the ship as he could. He watched in his mind's eye as the shadows caused the by the sicknesses dispersed in the light. He knew it wasn't a complete or permanent solution, but it would ease the suffering and for that he was grateful. 

As Qiang began to thank the moon, the ship was rammed, the shock wave nearly knocking him from the boat. Qiang quickly scanned the water for what it might have been, but saw nothing. A second strike and Qiang spotted a wake. Qiang was faintly aware of the deck hands checking the ship in the physical world for the source of the ship's disturbance. He trumpeted out a deep roar of a challenge before a third strike could be made. 

A head slowly rose from the water. The long neck continued to rise until it was well above the boat deck. Qiang had had little dealings with sea going dragons. River and lake dragons yes, but ocean and sea dragons were a thing apart. They were much less benign, to Qiang's understanding. The ocean resisted domestication. It was as fierce and primal as the day the world was set to order. This was as it was supposed to be, Qiang knew, but it did make is current situation much more dangerous. 

Qiang took in the neck that had to be at least fifteen feet long and worried. Whatever was seen above the water, it was best to assume at least two-thirds still remained below the water. He could see no hint of shoulders or where the body itself might start. This was not a Chinese dragon, he knew, and the reception would most likely not be pleasant. 

The head was covered in spikes, most of which were backward facing. Two along the jaw line jutted forward menacingly and a hand full of smaller spikes extended from the end of the chin. The deep-set eyes regarded Qiang with unpleasant delight and though the sea dragon smiled, the smile held malice. 

"So," he said, his oily voice oozing over Qiang. "What have we here? A little fire dragon taking a little trip? You are far from China, child. What brings you to my waters?" 

"This boat does. I do not control its direction." Qiang managed to sound respectful, though he was sorely aware of how little diplomacy he actually possessed. 

"Is that so? Do your traveling companions have so little regard for you then?" 

Qiang weighed his response carefully. "There are times when traveling in secrecy is better than traveling in the open." Qiang noted with some concern that the sea dragon was pacing the ship. He tried to judge the body size from the wake and was uncertain. The humans on the deck, unable to see either dragon, nevertheless seemed to sense something was off. Qiang was close enough to the barrier of the spirit world to see their movements around the deck, reviewing every part and piece of the ship they could. 

"Oh, really?" the humor in his tone only made it seem worse. "Your humans have no idea either of us are here right now?" 

"No." Qiang's tone was firm, if still respectful. He raised his head and looked the sea dragon in the eye. "And it would be in everybody's best interest if it remained that way." 

The dragon's eyes narrowed. His head shot forward and the broad, square jaws snapped inches from Qiang's snout. The spikes brushed his scales, but Qiang didn't blink. He maintained his position and the eye lock. 

"Heaven can't help you out here, boy," he snarled. 

"While I doubt that's true, I don't recall asking for help." 

The sea dragon was first to look away. He covered it by studying the deck. 

"You know," he said, a cruel smile tugging his lips. "This ship hasn't given me any tribute to sail my waters. That's bad form, indeed." 

Qiang regarded the dragon warily. "And what is it you think is your due?" he asked. 

Quicker than light off the water, the dragon's head sprang forward again this time for the deck. Before Qiang could react, it appeared a wave crashed on the deck. The dragon raised his head, a sailor in his maw. "Why, whatever I want," he said, his words a bit slurred as he bit down on his catch. 

Qiang winced as he felt the man's terror, and felt the life end. He trembled with rage. 

"How dare you?" he seethed. 

The sea dragon laughed. "Dare? It's my right, little dragon. And what shall you do to stop me?" He snickered as his neck moved forward. 

Qiang was prepared, this time. He lunged forward and clamped his jaws down on the sea dragon's throat. The sea dragon breached further out of the water. Qiang dug his claws in the flesh that was exposed. As the dragon angled his body downward to the surf Qiang called his fire. Always close to call, it flared even quicker when he was angry. He could feel the cool, slick flesh of the sea dragon begin to burn and blister under his claws. With a screech the sea dragon struck the water and rapidly descended, dragging Qiang with him. 

Wisdom told Qiang to release the sea dragon and let him retreat. Qiang needed oxygen as surely as his fire did. Spite, however, gleefully suggested clinging on and forcing his opponent to suffer for as long as possible. Qiang bit down deeper, dug his claws in firmly, and forced the fire to burn white-hot. The sailor may have been British, and a barbarian, but he'd done no wrong to this dragon, and his life demanded avenging. 

The sea dragon had no claws, only fins. His main form of attack were the dagger sharp teeth lining his jaws, which were being kept away from the fire dragon by his clamped jaws. The sea dragon tried every maneuver he could think of to shake his attacker off. He barrel rolled, he breached surface and dove deep, he whipped his body around in every conceivable pattern. Still, Qiang clung like a barnacle and wrapped his body around the sea dragon's. Blood ran down the sea dragon's body from numerous puncture wounds. Qiang sawed his jaws back and forth on the neck, tearing the wound wider. 

During the attack, Qiang saw red. Soon his vision began to cloud and his lungs burn for air. Reluctantly, he released his hold and watched as the sea dragon dove even deeper, trailing blood in his wake. Smaller fish began to follow the trail. Qiang smiled, then pushed towards the surface. 

When he broke surface, the ship was nowhere to be seen. He looked about, then gazed towards the moon. 

"Please, gracious lady, guide me again. Show me the way to the ship." 

He felt again infused with moonlight. Then he saw a distinct path of light leading away from his position in the water. 

Follow the path, Qiang. It will lead you to the ship. Heaven will be displeased with your antics.

Qiang struggled with an apology. This was the moon, and he was sorry she was disappointed in him, but try as he might he wasn't sorry he'd attacked the other dragon. 

I am not displeased with you. I saw why you attacked, and you were justified. Perhaps not to the extent you took it, but your initial attack did save other lives. Heaven, however, may have different views.

"Zongxian will, certainly," Qiang muttered. 

That he will. 

*******************

"Were they?" Sebastian asked. 

Qiang blinked, pulled unexpectedly from his narrative. "I'm sorry?" 

"Were they angry? Heaven, I mean." 

Qiang paused in thought, absently scratching the ruff along his jaw. "In truth, I can't say I ever knew what opinion the greater bureaucracy of Heaven may have had on my mad folly. However, Zongxian was quite angry. Fortunately, I had an unexpected ally..." 

**********

Qiang pushed strongly against the swell. Swimming wasn't a particular talent of his, but he managed it pretty well. He followed the moon path and by his reckoning was making good time. Then the sea lurched out from beneath him and he stood on Zongxian's mountain. The glare from the elder dragon should have been enough to cow a dragon twice Qiang's age. Qiang was too angry to notice, or care. 

"What am I doing here?" he demanded. 

"What are you doing here?" his elder repeated, slowly. "What were you doing attacking some sea dragon you don't even know? I thought the agreement was to not reveal your nature?" 

"And who did I reveal it to, aside from some sea dragon who is bleeding out his last if fate is kind?" 

"QIANG!" Zongxian's head snapped rigid above Qiang's, his gold eyes blazed and the ground trembled. 

Qiang flinched at the first show of temper he'd ever seen from his elder. 

"How dare you speak so glibly of a life you never should have taken?" 

Qiang shrank back slightly from his elder, but still held his ground. "Had he kept his quarrel with me it would have gone much differently. As it was, he looked away first, then to hide his loss attacked a sailor. I wasn't going to stand for that. If his fight was with me, he should have kept it with me." 

Zongxian shook his head in exasperation. "What do you care for the barbarians? They're the ones ferrying your dear friend away. Why is your sympathy now with them?" 

"Oh, well, if it's the case we can do as we please to those precipitating the crisis then perhaps I should have killed his father and kept Fai from leaving to begin with." Qiang knew his waspish tone and words were not helping his case. They had escaped before he'd considered. He put in a concerted effort to curb his temper. 

"Qiang," Zongxian said low and carefully. "There are expectations of behavior that fall on you as a dragon. You are dangerously close to violating them." 

Qiang took a deep breath and banked his growing fire. "I know, elder," he replied carefully. "I know there are expectations. But should there not also be consistencies? If life is sacred, then life is sacred. All life, not that which we pick and chose. And if actions have consequences, shouldn't they apply to all and sundry? If I antagonized the dragon, then his attacking the sailors is inexcusable. And while I agree the barbarians are not the victims in this, charge the wrong doing with those who committed them, not some underling that happens to be close at hand. The sailor killed had not mistreated the workers, the sea dragon or anybody else. That cursed wretch of a dragon killed him to spite me and for no other reason." 

"And if you had not been out in the moonlight, it never would have known you were there. If I am to charge someone with wrongdoing as you say, it would seem to go back to you. You had agreed to remain as a human for this venture." 

Qiang started to protest when a soft breeze blew through. Then a gentle feminine voice spoke. 

"Perhaps, then, the fault is mine." 

Qiang and Zongxian both looked in the direction of the speaker. A tall woman regarded them with a smile. Her pale skin glowed softly and long silver-white hair fell gracefully down her back. She was clothed in moonlight and stillness radiated from her. Both Qiang and Zongxian lowered their heads. 

"My lady," they intoned simultaneously. 

She walked over to them and laid a hand on each of their heads. They both raised their heads up. The beautiful maiden drew her hands down along the jaw ruff of both dragons and kissed them, first Zongxian then Qiang. 

"My lady," Zongxian rumbled. "I fail to see how any of this could possibly be laid at your feet." 

"It was my light that called him out." 

"You can not help but to shine." 

"And Qiang, or any dragon, can not help but to be drawn to it. I understand he was to hide his nature. Was he to deny it as well? That is, I think, too much to ask of any dragon." 

"He wasn't merely basking..." Zongxian started. 

"No, that is true. But it was his basking that attracted the sea dragon. The sea dragon that abused those Qiang considered under his protection. To ignore that is again demanding he deny his nature." 

Zongxian considered the moon's words. "So be it," he said at last. "But mark me, Qiang, your journey is barely begun and I've had to reprimand you. Step lightly lest you step no further on this journey." 

With that Qiang found himself again in the water, the ship within his sight. The moon maiden floated at his side. He deeply lowered his head. 

"Thank you, my lady. My gratitude knows no bounds." 

She smiled. "Of course. And you are most welcome. Just please, be careful." Then she was gone and all that was left was to catch the ship and slip back aboard. 

*********************

"The moon really saved your bacon, there," Sebastian observed. 




Driving the Last Spike Ch. 01



Qiang nodded. "That she did, I'll not gainsay it." 

"Did the sea dragon perish, as Zongxian suggested?" asked Chang. 

"I do not know. He was much larger than I, and though the wounds I inflicted weren't superficial, it was entirely possibly he could have survived them. I only know I never saw him again and that the rest of the voyage, aside from illness, cramped quarters, and deplorable hygiene, was uneventful. I managed to have no further discourse with Zongxian for at least that time." 

"So there were further issues?" Chang asked. 

"Of course there were."

Chang couldn't resist a good-natured chuckle

Qiang snorted, though his muzzle did quirk into a smile. "I'll have you know I was an exemplary worker and managed the illusion handily. Even if I was perhaps a little ill-acquainted with hard labor." 

"How bad was it?" Dakota asked, thinking back to the history she had read. 

"Honestly, it wasn't that bad, for me. There was much speculation on how long it would take for me to break, since I didn't look like a worker My hands weren't calloused, my carriage wasn't that of the other workers, and I looked quite young. In short, I looked like an aristocrat's son recently slipped his father's leash." Qiang paused, his head tilted in consideration. "Not that that was an entirely... inaccurate assessment," he added with a shrug. "In truth, it was some ways closer than they knew. However, I was a dragon and my hands didn't callous, my back didn't break, and the sun didn't burn my skin. Winter I wasn't fond of, and even then I wasn't as bad off as the others. The worst offense though, to a certain way of thinking, was that I never capitulated. I followed orders and did my work, but I was unbowed. Perhaps even brazen. Most eventually stopped caring. There was more than enough work and misfortune spread about in equal measure to pay attention to any one worker who wasn't making trouble. But for two in particular: I was their bane, and for very different reasons..."

**********************



Driving the Last Spike Ch. 02



Edited by Penn Lady 

This is a copyrighted work of fiction. All rights reserved. 

*

Owen Connolly was a big man. His back was broad and his chest barreled out. His arms were heavily muscled, his legs thick and stout. He towered over not only the Chinese workers, but his fellow Irish as well. With his perpetual scowl, foul humor, and propensity for violence, he also intimidated both in equal measure. 

His dark, unkempt hair fell over his equally dark eyes, never quite enough to hide them or their seething depths. His face may have been handsome at one time, but his temperament had hardened the lines of his face and aged him past his thirty-odd years. 

For all his ill-will, he seemed to spread it in equal portions across the workers. It was never specifically focused on either his countrymen or the foreigners brought in as reminders that they were expendable. Owen Connolly thrashed and cursed his away through both groups with equal disregard, focusing on whatever poor soul happened to have the misfortune of crossing him that most particular day. 

Except for Qiang. For reasons he could not decipher, Qiang had unaccountably become a focus for Owen's frequent rages. He would go out of his way to antagonize Qiang and when Qiang failed to rise to the bait, he would vent his ire on him all the same. 

"I don't know that I can manage much more of that barbarian," Qiang seethed to Fai after yet another dust up. 

Fai nodded in sympathy. "He's a vexation, that's for certain. I would have thought he'd grow bored after a while and move on. But he seems fixated on you." 

Qiang's scowl was as dark as any Owen wore. "Why do they even keep him around with all the trouble he causes?" 

"He does half again the work of any of us and twice the work of any of the other Irish. I can understand why they wouldn't want to lose that kind of workhorse. It's not them that has to put up with his temper makes it even easier." 

"If he's not careful, in time he'll wear thin on them as well." 

"That will be a hard and sorry day for him. Sadly, I doubt anyone else will care." 

The final straw came after a long day of driving spikes. In any labor Qiang and Fai shared, Qiang insisted Fai take the easier job. There weren't any truly easy jobs, but Qiang arranged what there was as best he could in Fai's favor. Any time Fai attempted to argue, he would somehow lose track of his thoughts. 

Though Qiang was rarely as tired as the men around him, there were times the days labors took their toll on him as well. A long, hot day spent swinging a sledge hammer in the piercing sun was one of them. After work broke for the evening, Qiang went to gather water from a communal cistern. He saw Owen stomping over, tension etched into his muscles and flesh, no doubt to demand first access to the water. 

Normally, Qiang would step aside. This day he was tired, thirsty, and in a bad mood of his own. He carefully braced himself while filling his container. When Owen slammed into him, Qiang didn't move, not so much as a step. Qiang heard Owen's breath escape with the force of the impact and smiled. A smile that quickly fled as Owen punched Qiang for all he was worth in the shoulder. Qiang dropped the water container and rounded on Owen, set to finally teach this man some much-needed manners. Qiang was momentarily surprised by the look on the man's face. He would have expected uncertainty, shock, even rage. The look he saw was glee, equal parts child-like and manic. Though surprising, it wasn't enough to quell his anger. Qiang curled his hands into fists and prepared himself for a right proper row as Owen did the same. 

Then Owen was seized and pulled back as another man pushed himself between them. He was a bit shorter than Owen, though of a good height himself. His chestnut hair was sweat soaked and clung to his face. His blue eyes looked between Qiang and Owen before he turned and pushed Owen back. 

"What are you thinking, you great big lummox?" he snapped. "Leave the poor China-man alone. He's never done nothing by you." When Owen continued to glare at Qiang the man pushed him for emphasis. "Go on, get you gone. Now." Reluctantly, Owen turned and walked away. 

The strange man turned to Qiang. Qiang had seen him among the Irish workers, but couldn't immediately place who he was. Not one of the foremen, that much he knew. The man looked apologetic, then frustrated as he started to say something. He closed his mouth before any words came out. He exaggeratedly pointed to Qiang then pointed to the ground before turning to find a translator. 

*******************************

"You didn't understand English by that point?" Chang asked. 

"I did. I also understood the advantage of others not knowing that." 

"Ah, I see." Chang smiled. 

******************************

The young man returned, translator in tow. The translator was a Chinese man of Qiang's acquaintance. While he didn't know the man well, he was impressed with the professionalism of his translation services. He was usually quite accurate about what was being said and relayed it impassively, resisting the temptation to add his own coloring on what was being said or who was saying it. 

"Look, I'm sorry for Owen there. I know he's blusterous and quarrelsome and been nothing but a horse's ass to you for months now. And I wish I could say I knew why. But Owen's always been a bit odd. Not that it's any kind of excuse, I know." 

Qiang paid close attention to both what the man and translator had said. While the translator had said "odd", the man had said "queer." Though English wasn't tonal as Chinese was, nuance was still very important. The verbal shading the man had given "queer" seemed to imply some meaning past merely "odd" and that stood out to Qiang. 

He turned to the translator. "Odd?" he repeated with a gesture to the other speaker. 

Dutifully, the translator turned and repeated, "Queer?" 

The man looked about, then moved in close. "You repeat this to him at your own expense. He doesn't cotton much to reminders of the past. But his mother was a fairy doctor back in Ireland..." 

The translator paused at "fairy doctor" having never heard the term nor having a translation on hand. The man sighed and looked down a moment, thinking. 

"His mother was something of a healer," he said when he looked back up. "I suppose some would have called her a witch, though she enjoyed a good reputation to my understanding. She gave out poultices and salves for healing, read cards, and gave advice based on what the fairies said. I'm told she was a good woman, caring more for people's need than what she could get from them. So, young Owen was said to maybe have inherited some of all that from his mother, that his queerness came from the fairies. I know he was somber as a child and down right queer his whole life." 

"What became of his mother?" Qiang asked. 

The man's blue eyes became very sad. "Died in the famine, like so many others." 

Qiang cocked his head. "Famine?" 

The man shook his head. "That's all history now. Water under the bridge, as they say." He paused a moment, lost in thought. Then he caught himself. "So's anyway, I'm sorry he's got such burr for you. I'll try to keep him in line. He listens to me, sometimes. At least more than the others." He turned to leave and Qiang caught his arm. He looked back, confused. 

"What is it you're called?" he asked through the translator. 

He smiled. "Fionn MacDermott."

***************************

"So, had Owen Connolly inherited his mother's talents?" Chang asked. 

"That was my first thought, certainly." 

"Buy why would he care that you were a dragon?" Sebastian asked. 

Qiang shifted his position slightly, gathering his thoughts, and Mingzhu adjusted her position in response. "I thought it might have arisen from the politics of the time. You see, it was originally mostly the Irish who worked the railroad. But it was long, hard work filled with drudgery and many of them became soured on it. So the railroad bosses brought in Chinese workers to illustrate that the Irish were replaceable. The Irish didn't take well to this." 

"But it's hardly the Chinese workers' fault," Dakota protested. "They were just looking for work like everybody else." 

"That's not how the Irish saw it. Nor do I expect that that was how they were meant to." 

Dakota shook her head in confusion. "I don't understand." 

"When you have two factions of your workforce pitted against each other it's harder for either of them to notice just how deplorable the working conditions are. And I assure you, deplorable is an understatement." Qiang tried without success to keep the bitterness out of his voice. Mingzhu reached up and tenderly stroked his jaw. Briefly he leaned his head against her hand, then continued his story. 

"However, my thoughts on Owen's particular dislike of me were that he viewed my presence as one more foreign intrusion, albeit of a spiritual nature." 

"Um, wasn't all of that native lands?" Dakota interjected. "Wasn't everybody there foreign?" 

Qiang dipped his head in acknowledgment. "Exactly right, we all were. I must confess to being somewhat willfully tunnel-visioned on that fact. I was there for a specific reason, mainly the protection of Fai, and more broadly the other workers. While I was aware of the irony, I did my best to ignore it. And we actually didn't have much interaction with the tribes where we were in the mountains. The Union Line had much more of an issue." Qiang paused again, perhaps in recrimination, perhaps just in reflection. It struck Chang as something of both. 

"What of Owen Connolly?" Chang gently asked. 

"Yes," Qiang said, back again in the present. "Well, the first thing that struck me was that if he had received his mother's gifts, and even if he hadn't, his mother died of starvation. She knew death was coming in advance. If she had sway with spiritual forces, it seemed to me she would arrange guardians for her son. My first course of action would be to see if these guardians were still in attendance, even if it that meant looking more closely at what the work had wrought in the spirit world of the area..."

****************************************** 

On work details, Qiang made a point of watching Owen Connolly. Not just the work he did, though the amount he put out was impressive. It did strike Qiang how Owen did his work. He threw his entire being into it. He worked in a daze, seemingly oblivious to anything around him, only doing the work he was assigned. Qiang had to marvel that he didn't drive himself to exhaustion. Qiang made a special point, however, of watching the spirit world around Owen. Eventually, he was rewarded for his efforts. 

One day a small spirit shadowed Owen as he worked. At first, Qiang nearly missed the little creature. Staying focused on the work in the physical world while simultaneously watching the spirit world was difficult. Then he caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye. As he studied the disturbance he could discern what looked like a small man, though his facial features weren't quite human. They were exaggerated, the eyes were slightly too big and expressive. The nose was too perfect a cute button. His ears were extravagantly pointed, almost animal like, and his mouth dominated the last third of his face in an abundant grin. He was dressed in green garments and a red cap. Barely two feet high, he capered about Owen, waving about twig like limbs trying to get his attention. For a moment, Owen did look over and a smile briefly touched his lips. Then he was back to work and the little man settled himself to the side and watched. Qiang later came to know him as a grig. 

************************************

"As in 'merry as a grig'?" Dakota asked. 

Qiang nodded, smiling slightly. "Exactly that. And he was quite merry. Annoyingly so after awhile." 

Sebastian raised is claw. "What's a grig?" 

"I think it's a type of fairy," Dakota ventured. 

Qiang nodded again. "That's essentially correct." 

"A fairy?" Sebastian asked, skepticism in his voice. 

"Asks the dragon," responded Qiang. 

"Point taken. So fairies are real," Sebastian said, trying to assimilate this into his view of the world. 

"Oh, yes," Qiang confirmed. "Very real. And potentially very dangerous. So be careful using the word, 'fairy'. Some don't mind it but some find it deeply offensive. Sidhe is fairly well accepted, even by the non-Irish, as is Fae. There are also dozens of euphemisms." 

"Shee?" repeated Sebastian. 

"Close enough," Qiang shrugged. 

"OK, what doesn't exist?" Sebastian asked. 

"Smurfs," Qiang answered. 

"Well, that's good to know. But that leaves a whole lot of ground uncovered." Then after a pause Sebastian muttered, "And now that stupid song is stuck in my head." 

Qiang ignored the last comment. "Yes it does. Life, if you haven't realized it, is one long on-going education. So I suggest you mind Chang well and learn what you can while still under the safety of your fledgling period." 

Chang dipped his head in acknowledgment, a small smile playing on his snout. 

"Why is 'fairy' not acceptable?" Dakota asked. "Is it a PC sort of thing?" 

Unexpectedly, Qiang's laughter echoed through his lair. "I'm sorry," he said, still snickering. "I had never considered it that way. I would say that human politics don't matter to the Fae. But amongst themselves, and in the dealings they have with humans and others, they can be downright pernicious in the application of their politics. So, I suppose it could be viewed that way. The term 'fairy' has become so watered down and in some ways maligned that some don't care for its use. Without venturing too far into this now, use caution in any dealings you have with the Fae. Some are trustworthy, some aren't and the differences aren't always immediately discernible. Now the Fae I was dealing with here was not a creature of politics, one way or the other..." 

******************************

Qiang attempted several times over the next few days to speak with the grig only to find the creature would run from him. Careful not to attract Owen's attention, his communication attempts only took place in the spirit world. Qiang was certain that if Owen realized what Qiang was up to, and scaring the little grig in the process no matter how unintentionally, he would not be reasonable about it. This limited how often he could try. Eventually, Qiang decided bribery might work best. 

He considered the limited sweets available in the food stores of the Chinese, but thought they might be too exotic for the grig. He then made inquires through the translator of the Irish and American food stores, thinking this might be closer to the grig's normal diet. Taking a substantial amount of his pay, he set out amongst the other workers for something that might work. He settled on chocolate, bought at a dear price from one of the foremen. It was a delicacy the grig might be familiar with, and an extravagance that would hopefully pique his attention past what fears he had. 

That night, after the work broke, dinner was eaten, and the worker's time came closest to being their own, Qiang quietly separated himself from the others and crossed over. He located the little spirit and got as close as he dared. The spirit still bolted up a tree. Instead of leaving, Qiang set himself against the tree and unwrapped the chocolate. He broke a small piece off and nibbled on it. 

"My,"he said to no one in particular. "This is quite good." He took another small bite. "Actually, I don't think I've ever had anything this good before." The last part was exaggeration, though he was surprised by how much he did like the sweet. 

Above his head he heard leaves rustle and smiled. Soon, he sensed the grig draw closer. He paused, still out of Qiang's arm reach but close enough to smell the chocolate. Qiang heard the small sniffs as the air was tested. 

"That does smell good," a tinkling voice said above him. "What is it?" 

"Chocolate," Qiang answered. 

More rustling as he drew closer. "Really? I've heard tell of it but haven't had any." His tone spoke to longing. 

"I assure you it's quite tasty." He broke a piece off and held it above his head without looking up. "If you'd like to try it..." Qiang didn't even finish his offer before it was snatched out of his hand with a burst of leaves rustling. Qiang's smile grew broader as the grig retreated with his treat. He heard the sounds of eating. 

"Well?" he asked, looking straight ahead. 

The grig again drew closer. "That was as good as you said. There wouldn't happen to be more, would there?" 

Qiang regarded the blocks in his hand. "There is. But I find it odd sharing hospitality with those whose name I don't even know." He broke another small piece and held it up. Again it was snatched from his hand. 

"Merryweather," the tinkling voice said between mouthfuls of chocolate. 

Qiang nodded and turned toward the tree. "I am Qiang." He took bite of his piece and offered another up the tree. This time he saw the grig come down for it. He cocked his head and studied Qiang before taking the chocolate. He sat down on the branch he was crouching on rather than run back up the tree. As Merryweather the grig munched contentedly on his chocolate, Qiang heard a voice behind him. 

"Found his weakness, have you?" 

Immediately, Qiang dropped the chocolate he was holding, grabbed Merryweather and pulled him close to his chest. Qiang turned his body away from the voice, effectively shielding the grig as he turned his head. 

As Qiang first saw him, the speaker was taking a surprised step back. The man was tall, elegant, and human seeming. But as like the grig, his features were slightly inhuman. The cast of his face was delicate, his feature impossibly beautiful. His eyes gracefully slanted and were an unearthly shade of green. His ears were also pointed, but not to the exaggerated extend Merryweather's were. His skin tone was pale, his hair platinum blonde and somehow both fine and luxuriant. His clothes were elegant, and appeared to be brocade and velvet, in colors of green and gold. Soft leather boots covered his feet. He regarded Qiang with uncertainty and suspicion, eying where Qiang held the grig away. 

A few tense moments passed before Merryweather squirmed enough in Qiang's grip to get a view of the stranger. 

"Oh, you don't have to worry about him," he said as he squirmed out of Qiang's grasp. "He's just another stuffed-shirt fancy-pants like you." He leaped into the tree. Looking down, he noticed the chocolate spread out on the ground. "Oh," he said sadly. "You dropped the chocolate." 

Qiang looked from Merryweather to the new-comer, then gathered up the fallen treat. Dusting it off he observed, "None the worse for wear. Or should I assume you don't want any more?" 

The grig fiercely shook his head, nearly dislodging his hat, and held out is hand. "No, no. More please, if you don't mind." 

Qiang smiled and handed Merryweather an entire block of the treat instead of breaking a piece off. The grig smiled nearly broad enough to split his face. The block almost filled both his hands and he settled on his branch to set about work on the chocolate. Qiang turned to face the stranger. 

"So, is stuffed-shirt fancy-pants an official title?" he asked. 

"Is it for you?" he asked back, his voice lilting and amused. 

Qiang cast a glance to the tree branch where Merryweather was making messy inroads into his piece of chocolate. 

"I suppose it depends on whom you ask." 

**************************************************

"Seriously?" Sebastian asked. "If I called you a stuffed-shirt fancy-pants you'd bite my head off." 

Qiang nodded. "Not literally, of course. But, yes, I would not tolerate that from you. And in case you're curious, here's why." Qiang settled among the pillows, getting comfortable for his dissertation. "You are not a grig. You are a fledgling dragon. And while that does buy you certain leeway, I would argue that you don't get the entire leeway of a fledgling." 




Driving the Last Spike Ch. 02



Chang arched his head, his expression one of dissent. As he opened his mouth to speak, Qiang dipped his head and raised a claw. 

"Please, hear me out." 

Chang closed his mouth and leaned back. He indicated with a nod of his head Qiang should continue.

"Thank you." He turned his attention back to Sebastian. "You see, you aren't a freshly hatched dragon. You were an adult, albeit a young adult, when you became a dragon. A young adult who I assume had a mother who taught you at least basic manners. Teachings that, more often then not, you don't show to their best advantage." He gave Sebastian a pointed look. 

"Now that is just low." 

"Perhaps. But is it untrue?" 

"No," Sebastian muttered. 

Chang cocked his head in consideration, then nodded. "I don't think that is an entirely unfair criticism," he conceded. "I would point out, though, that the flaws we find in others oftentimes reflect back upon ourselves." 

Dakota leaned against Sebastian and looked up into his face. She ran her hand through the ruff along his jaw and smiled. "It's OK, we love you anyway." 

Sebastian nuzzled his head against Dakota. "Well, that makes it all better, then." 

"Now, then. The phrase 'stuffed-shirt fancy-pants' isn't something I would expect out of anybody over the age of five. Which is just about the mentality I was dealing with in Merryweather. A five-year-old with magic." 

"That had to be a trial for you," Sebastian observed with a smile. 

Qiang nodded. "It was. However, Merryweather was also the only thing, outside of fisticuffs with me, I ever saw Owen Connolly smile at. So in my view that alone more than justified his presence there..." 

***********************************************

"Well, if your source for how that title is determined is Merryweather, then everybody who isn't him is a stuffed-shirt fancy-pants." 

At the mention of his name, Merryweather looked up from his chocolate. "It's true," he confirmed. "Everybody is." 

Qiang smiled in spite of himself. "And why is that?" 

Merryweather took another bite. "'Cause," he said around his mouthful. "Everybody is trying to live up to some silly, boring standard." He swallowed. "Not me. I'm just me, I got nothing to live up to and nothing to live down neither." He finished the chocolate. "Can I have some more, please?" 

"Merryweather," the newcomer said, "Haven't you had enough?" 

Merryweather leaned in close to Qiang and waved him over conspiratorially. Qiang leaned in closer to the grig's perch in the tree. 

"That's what I mean," he explained. "Always worrying about the ways things should or shouldn't be and not just taking them for what they are." 

Qiang nodded sagely. "I see." 

"Good. I figured anybody with chocolate can't be like him." Merryweather conspicuously eyed the last piece in Qiang's hand. "So, um, the chocolate..." 

Qiang regarded the last piece. "Well," he said after brief consideration. "It seems I should at least offer him some. To be polite, you know." Qiang handed the last piece to the figure across form him who took it with a smile. 

"Argh!" cried Merryweather as the last piece was taken. "You're as bad as he is!" He crossed his arms and pouted. 

"I should mention," Qiang said, "That the going price is a name." 

"Orin," he said, taking a bite. "And you are?" 

"Qiang." 

Orin said as he finished the chocolate, "If we are going to speak of courtesy, it might better be spoken in a true form." 

Qiang considered the statement. From what he could tell, both Orin and Merryweather presented themselves in their true forms. To hear Merryweather speak, he wouldn't bother doing anything otherwise. But here Qiang stood, looking completely human and being completely otherwise. He nodded and took a few steps back. 

His dragon form over-filled the space his human form had previously occupied. Orin had to move to make room. Though the look of surprise may have had as much to do with the step back as space concerns. It felt good to be in this form again. He hadn't assumed it since the sea voyage many months past and the human form was becoming stifling. He shook out his mane and cat-like stretched out his sinuous body as his pearl flared within him. He felt a roar rise up, but pushed it back down. He looked over to the other two. 

Orin was examining him studiously. Merryweather had hopped up to higher branch but was regarding Qiang with wonderment. 

"He really is a fancy-pants," he whispered. "I mean if he could wear pants that way." When Qiang did nothing more after his stretch Merryweather dropped down closer. He reached out his hand towards Qiang's head. 

"May I pet?" he asked. 

Qiang had never been asked that. He was momentarily surprised by the question, but then acquiesced. The small being stretched out his hand and could just touch the fur between Qiang's antlers. Qiang stretched his neck out so that his head was closer. The grig then jumped down from his perch to the top of Qiang's head laughing wildly as he ruffled the fur. 

"What in Heaven's name are you doing?" he asked. 

Merryweather sat upright between his antlers. "I want to go for a ride," he said, giddy. 

"Well, you're not going for one on me." 

Qiang heard the noise of disappointment Merryweather made. However, the grig did not leave his spot. Orin stepped closer. His was astonished, as was the grig, if more composed. 

"I thought you might be of Heaven. Though Heaven's emissaries of the Middle Kingdom do take much different form from those of Ireland." 

Qiang dipped his head, careful not to dislodge the grig as much as he may have wanted to. 

"Are you here to look after all the workers?" 

"I do what I can, though Owen is my primary charge." 

"Hey, he's mine too," Merryweather piped up, annoyed. 

Orin smiled slightly. "And Merryweather's charge, also." 

*******************************************

"OK, so fairies―I mean Sidhe-- are also emissaries of Heaven?" Sebastian asked. 

Qiang nodded. "Some are, some aren't. More were at one time to my understanding, but things changed." 

"What, Heaven?" 

"Not...exactly. The arrangements changed." 

"I thought Heaven would be eternal." 

"Heaven is eternal as the moment," Qiang said. 

Sebastian stared at Qiang. Then he swooped his claw over his head, signaling his lack of comprehension. From his position behind Sebastian, Chang cocked his head in confusion at the gesture.

"He's saying it went over his head, that he didn't understand what I was saying," Qiang explained. 

"Ah, I see." Chang's tone was bemused. "How intriguing." 

In the ensuing silence Sebastian dipped his head sheepishly while Dakota stifled a giggle. Chang and Qiang regarded each other, both waiting for the other to further explain. Chang spoke first. 

"Please, continue. I found you phrasing quite elegant." 

Qiang sighed and gathered his thoughts. "It's like your river. It always the same river but the water is always different. It's eternal but always changing with the new influx. You see what I'm saying?" 

Sebastian nodded. 

"Heaven is somewhat similar. Religion is the language humanity uses to converse with deity. As religions change, so does the language and the idioms used. There hadn't been much change in China, though certainly there were adjustments. Ireland, or Europe to be accurate, went through many changes in idiom. As man found new ways to express himself, old forms fell to the wayside in some places. But every idiom or form I refer to is a being, some of whom did not appreciate being pushed aside." Qiang paused, curling his head thoughtfully. "But much of this is a talk for another time. Chang can give you a much more thorough explanation when your learning comes to it. Don't feel bad, though. You weren't the only one not to understand the position of the Sidhe..." 

**************************************

Before Qiang could further talk with the Sidhe he felt his elder's summons. Well, at least I'm summoned and not dragged there. 

Qiang lowered his head to Orin. "I'm afraid I must go. Could you please remove Merryweather?" 

Orin reached up and gathered the grig into his hands. "Are you returning to the workers?" 

"Not yet, but I will be. I suspect we will be speaking again." 

"I look forward to it," Orin responded with a smile. 

Qiang answered Zongxian's call and the spirit world of the work camp vanished, replaced by his elder's mountain. The setting sun lit the world in splendid scarlet as the light sliced through the trees. Across from him was Zongxian, stiff legged and dour. 

**********************************

"Um," Dakota interrupted. 

"Yes?" Qiang asked. 

"Not to be pedantic, but how can it be dusk in both the American Spirit world and China's?" 

"Time is not always a fixed thing between them and can vary." 

*********************************

With all the patience he could muster Qiang asked, "Yes?" 

"I had thought we were of the same mind on how you are to present yourself?" Zongxian was clearly annoyed with his recalcitrant youngling. 

"I was presenting myself to additional emissaries of Heaven," Qiang explained with a somewhat exaggerated toss of his head. 

"What emissaries?" 

"Of Ireland, I would think. At least he's guarding one of the Irish workers." 

"And you needed to do this as a dragon? You can present yourself to any court here in human form and have it be accepted." 

Qiang shrugged. "Apparently to the Irish it's considered rude to do so outside of the true form." 

"Rude?" Zongxian asked, gobsmacked. "Now you're worried about manners. Not with the sea dragon." 

"They hadn't killed anyone," Qiang explained, though he'd considered it self-evident. 

"They?" 

"Well, one is a small-kin, hardly the most impressive spirit I've ever seen. The other is in fact of Heaven and easily the equal of a dragon. Neither seem inclined to murder out of hand. The worst I might say is the small-kin probably left chocolate smudges in my mane." 

"I wondered what that was. So what are they doing there?" 

"It would seem the same as I am." 

"Are they posing as workers?" 

"No. I assume their elders are more reasonable." 

"Qiang," Zongxian said slowly and carefully, "The ground is treacherous beneath your feet. You may want to be exceedingly careful how you tread it." The ground shook in emphasis of his point. 

Qiang bowed his head. "Of course elder. I am sorry, I meant no offense." 

"I sincerely doubt that."

Qiang remained with his head bowed until he received acknowledgment of the gesture. When nothing further was said he asked, "May I return?" 

Zongxian snorted, but nodded his head in assent.

"You may. But remember you represent the Middle Kingdom to these others. You would be wise to ensure your representation is without cause for complaint." 

Qiang stopped short as he took in Zongxian's words. He would be their first introduction to the ways of the Middle Kingdom. Qiang bowed his head in acknowledgment of this new responsibility. 

"I shall do my best."

"See that you do." 

***************************************

"So I found myself back in the camp. It appeared late evening, so I set out to find Fai to see if there was any unaccounted time I would need to explain." 

"Unaccounted?" Sebastian asked. "How so?" 

"As I said, time can be a tricky thing between the realms. The closer to the veil between the worlds you are the closer time flows. The deeper in you go, the more discrepancy there can be. Usually, more passes in the physical then the spiritual. The time with Orin and Merryweather was just on the other side of the barrier, so time would be normal. My time with Zongxian was deeper in, so there could be some difference." 

From her position lying against Qiang, Mingzhu ran her hand along his back getting his attention. "You said there were two people you had antagonistic relationships with. Was Orin the other?" 

"No. Though he and I didn't always see eye-to-eye on what our responsibilities were, I always accorded him the respect his position deserved."

"How did you not see eye-to-eye?" Chang asked. 

"I always had the impression that he considered me very young and on a path that would have some very sharp learning curves. When we spoke, it had the overlay of a world-weary veteran and a overly-optimistic novice. I did find it frustrating, occasionally infuriating, but as I grew older I came to recognize that he had witnessed his people broken and scattered to the world. I believe something like one third of Ireland's population was lost due to the famine, either to direct death or to expatriation. He was painfully aware of the limitations of his position while I was still learning that very harsh lesson." 

Chang's expression spoke of sympathy. "Those are very painful lessons to learn. Especially as closely as you were experiencing them." 

Qiang nodded, his expression again distant. "Yes, they are. I will say Orin was a more patient teacher then Zongxian was, but I wasn't an eager pupil for either of them." He paused for a long moment, then continued. "So, no, Orin wasn't the other nor was Merryweather, though he sorely tried my patience. He was like a child. You corrected the behavior and nothing more. There was no malice in him, and certainly nothing to inspire a deep and abiding antagonism. Unlike Miles Chapman." 

Qiang said the name with a growl and his entire body stiffened. The brazier flames flared up, and the floor faintly shook. Dakota jumped, startled, and Sebastian curled protectively around her while recoiling. Mingzhu, more accustomed to Qiang's temper, began to stroke his fur in an attempt to calm him. Chang also tensed, suddenly poised to move. He made a sound that was a cross between a growl and clearing his throat and watched Qiang expectantly. 

Qiang's tensed coils immediately relaxed as the fires died back down. Qiang dipped his head. "I am sorry. Even with more then a century past the anger hasn't entirely left." 

Chang settled back into a position of comfort. "If this is partially faded, I would truly fear to see what your full ire at this man was like. Shall I assume that he was as much a bane to you as you were to him?" 

Sebastian relaxed slightly, shifting to a more comfortable position, but still kept his tail loosely coiled around Dakota. Mingzhu also settled against Qiang's side while continuing to run her hand through the fur on his back. He responded to her ministrations by lowering his head and nuzzled against her. Mingzhu caressed his jaw with her hand. 

"Yes," Qiang said, raising his head. "You could safely say that. I was a bane to Owen Connolly because I was of Heaven and Heaven had failed his people. I could excuse that, perhaps even sympathize with the position. It was born out of frustration, pain, and loss. Miles Chapman, however, came from a line that appeared to be blessed by Heaven and it bore out in him an arrogance that was staggering, a callousness that was appalling, and a complete and total sense, in him, of his own God-awing magnificence..." 

******************************************



Driving the Last Spike Ch. 03



Miles Chapman was a handsome man. Well-manicured, well-kept, and well-presented. His features were rugged, but still refined enough to pass muster in the finest parlors. His beard and mustache were full and carefully trimmed and his hair was styled in the latest fashion. His clothes were the finest cut and style, both fitting and showing off his physique. He had a ready smile and hardy laugh, but Qiang and the other workers quickly learned the manicured perfection hid a dark and vile man who seemed to enjoy not only the trappings of wealth, but the power too. 

*******************************************

"So, ah, was there any time shift?" Sebastian asked suddenly. 

Qiang snapped back to the present, his tail still twitching in agitation. "What?" he asked. 

"The last thing you'd said, before Miles, was that you were checking about how much time you lost," Sebastian explained, taking surreptitious glances at Qiang's flicking tail. If Qiang noticed Sebastian's wandering gaze, he didn't mention it. 

"You're right, I guess that was where I left off. Uh, looking for Fai...after meeting with Zongxian...It was after dinner..." 

"You know, I'm sorry, but I've got another question," Sebastian cut in.

"Yes," Qiang sighed. 

"Well, I mean, not to be keep interrupting..." 

"But you are, so go ahead." 

"Ah, yeah, you mentioned after dinner. How did you manage to hide how much food you were eating? I mean, I know I go through massive amounts when I'm eating." 

Qiang's look softened, much to Sebastian's relief. "A fair question. Part of it is you're still a fledgling. You're still growing and require, as any growing youth, fuel to grow with. Also, you probably haven't fully figured out how to sustain yourself on your element." 

Sebastian's muzzle curled up in curiosity. "Yeah, you're right. So what does that mean?" 

Qiang looked to Chang, who granted permission to continue with a simple nod. 

"In time you'll get a better handle on this, but dragons are both physical and elemental. We can survive on food, and indeed should consume such to maintain a link to the physical world. Our forms and size can consume a great deal, as you've come to find out. However, we may also sustain ourselves on the energy of our elements. I am a fire dragon. These braziers," he flicked his tail around, indicating the lit fire pots, "also give me sustenance. I can feed from flame and fire as well as physical food. 

"And when food is scarce, such as in the camp, I can survive on it. And the camp was full of fire. The cook and camp fires, the forges for smelting metal, the burning steam engines, all of these feed me as surely as the meager supplies I was offered as a worker." He paused for a moment. "You do have to be careful to maintain a balance. As in all things, too far one way or the other creates problems." 

Sebastian nodded, remembering how it often did take less food fished from the river to satisfy him than when he had more "normal" food. "Yeah, OK, I see where you're going. But can I do that with any water, or just the river?" Sebastian looked between Qiang and Chang, unsure which to direct the question to. 

Qiang unexpectedly laughed. "You're a water dragon, presumably any water would be the same. However, you're bonded to the most fussy river I think I've ever seen. I doubt it would let you." 

Chang chuckled behind them. "The river is a bit possessive of you, Sebastian." 

"Does that answer your question?" Qiang asked. 

Sebastian nodded. 

"Very well. Where was I...Ah, yes. He'd gone to the camp followers for the night." 

"Camp followers?" Dakota asked. 

Qiang sighed. "Yes, we had them. There were more following the Union line as they were going over the plains and we were cutting through the mountains. It was harder for the women to follow. But a few hardy ones did." 

Sebastian drew his head back, uncertain. "Camp followers?" he asked, trying to ascertain if the word was what he thought. 

"Yes, I mean prostitutes," Qiang explained with a tired tone. 

"How good a living could they have been making?" Dakota asked. 

"Not very, as it turned out. Though there weren't that many of them, and all the workers were as interested in sex as any other men, they made little money and so the women made proportionately less money. Not for lack of trying, I will tell you." 

Sebastian smiled. "So did you partake?" 

Qiang drew up his head in indignation. "As if," he huffed. 

"You mean with all that ass around and you didn't tap any of it?" Sebastian asked. 

Qiang looked down his snout at Sebastian. "Could you have possibly found a less tactful way to ask that?" he lamented, exasperation in his voice. 

"OK, that probably wasn't the best way to ask. But come on, it buggers the mind that you didn't get laid that entire time." 

"It's not germane to the story. Besides, I would hardly discuss that in mixed company." 

Mingzhu ran her hand along Qiang's jaw, getting his attention. 

"Beloved, do you really think I had any illusions about your previous life? I hardly suspected that after one hundred and fifty years I was your first love." 

"Of course not," Qiang conceded delicately. "But that doesn't necessarily mean you want to hear about them." 

"But I do," she responded. "I'm curious about things that happened before, how you became who you are." 

"Well, if you wish," he equivocated. "Though, to be honest, I didn't have much contact with the camp followers. They didn't want to be there. When you are at least somewhat aware of what your partner is feeling, 'how long until I've earned my money' does not contribute to the mood." 

Chang gave a smile. "That's when you show them some pleasure." 

"I tried. I was either not very good or they were very jaded." After a pause, he added, "There was one, however. Her name was Kohaku, and she was not what she seemed..." 

*******************************

Qiang made his away among the prostitutes, looking for Fai. Nobody commented on his being missing, so he was hopeful not much time had passed. He wasn't able to locate his friend, so he assumed he must already be with one of the ladies. Qiang sighed. Not that he could exactly blame Fai for wanting some form of release, but it didn't stop his annoyance at having to look for him. 

A young woman sidled coquettishly up to him, eyes averted with submission etched into her very being. It was a facade, Qiang could tell, but a well maintained one. She looked Japanese, which surprised him as most of the camp followers where Chinese. She also wore her black hair long and flowing, not bound as the others did. Her garb was the normal clothing wore by the Chinese woman. However, the thing that most piqued his interest was that she wasn't human. He couldn't be certain what she might be, her disguise was well made and it would take more than a casual pass to try to see beneath it. Intrigued, he allowed her to approach. 

"Fine sir," she began, "perhaps you are interested in some company this evening?" Her voice was soft and melodic. She brushed her hand across his chest, then ran it down his arm, managing to be bold while still seeming to be coy. She knew her business well. What to do, what to do? 

Qiang considered for a moment then said, "Perhaps I am. Where around here may we have some privacy?" 

She looked up, her amber eyes eager. Qiang tempered any reaction to them, though it confirmed his suspicions. He wondered how none of the others noticed. "I have a tent to myself. Please, follow me." She gathered up Qiang's arm and lead him to her tent. It was a large tent, made of brightly colored silks overlaid on canvas. He was surprised at first, then remembered that this female was more than she seemed. The fact that the tent was set so far away from the others, nestled among the trees, also made him wonder. 

The woman pulled back the entrance flap and bowed to Qiang. He entered the tent. It was as lovely inside. The canvas interior had more exotically colored silks hanging. There were pillows cast about, with silk blankets and furs arranged on top to look as though they were casually thrown about. A large bed of sorts was set in the back. It had no frame, and was made up of what looked to be a nest, or den, built of a larger pillow and piled with more silks, blankets, and furs. Glass lanterns, both oil and candle, were set carefully off the ground and cast multicolored light through the glass panes. 

As Qiang examined his surroundings, the woman came over to him and ran her hands along his chest. Her touch was exhilarating. She slid her hands into his tunic and slowly worked it off. She was deft yet at the same time worked it slowly to build excitement. When the shirt was off, she eased her hands into his pants, stroking his member as almost an aside to removing his pants. Qiang felt himself respond. He was beginning to see where the odd color of her eyes might be a secondary consideration to any man. He put his arms around her and pulled her close, kissing her hair. 

"What is your name?" he whispered. 

"Kohaku." Her voice was becoming husky. "And yours?" 

"Qiang." 

As she removed Qiang's clothes, he could feel her energy caress him. The feel of it was soft and sensual and it melded easily with the tenderness with which she removed his clothes. Still, Qiang suspected there was more to it than that. He allowed it, for now. It did feel good. 

Kohaku stepped out of his embrace and unbelted her garment and left it hanging open. Her skin was slightly pale, her breasts were well defined and inviting. She wasn't quite as thin as some of her compatriots, and as she laid back among the pillows and silks, her body was all but irresistible. The way she lay, the way she used the garment to hide and reveal were all enticements meant bring him to her. Qiang was aware of this, but sensed something of a trickster nature about her. But he was also curious. He went over to her. 

He laid down next to her, stroking her hair. She leaned in and kissed him deeply. Qiang wrapped his arm under the dress and around her waist, running his hand along her smooth curve of her back and down the ample swell of her bottom. He gave it a light squeeze. She shifted a little then settled in on his hand. 

She explored Qiang's mouth with her tongue, then disengaged to explore his body with it. She licked and kissed his chest, stomach, and groin. The feel of her tongue and warm breath against him caused his earlier response to intensify. She knew her business. The feeling of her energy persisted. She was probing him not only physically but magically. At the moment, it wasn't intrusive but Qiang had to wonder how much longer it would remain this passive. 

Kohaku laid back again, pinning Qiang's arm under her and pulling him in close. She playfully ran her arm along his chest then took hold of his other hand and brought it to her breast. Guiding his hand, she had him cup her breast, then stroke down her stomach to her mound. She released his hand and slowly, sensual shifted her hips, grinding her buttocks into his one hand and the soft hair of her womanhood into his other. He stroked the hair and realized it felt somewhat like fur. On a hunch, he raised his hand from her sex and stroked her stomach. At first lightly, then with more pressure. She sighed as she squirmed pleasantly beneath him. 

"Mm," she sighed. "That's quite nice. You have a good touch. What else can we do, though?" She looked up with a grin. Then she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his waist. She ran her tongue along his neck, then nibbled gently at his throat. The feel of her teeth against his flesh sent shivers through Qiang and he grew hard. He seized her hips and guided his erection into her waiting flesh. She gasped as he entered. 

Locked into her, Qiang began to lose himself in the sensation of her. The musk of her sex was intoxicating. The more he pumped into her, the more of the scent was released. She was quite gifted in other ways also. With her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, she guided her sex around his penis as much as he thrust into her. The feel of her vaginal hair, so much like fur, brushing against him, rubbing against him, drove him wild. 

Nearly lost in the intensity of their sex, Qiang almost didn't notice when her energy began to probe more insistently. Only when it came dangerously close to breaking his defenses did he notice. His attention snapped back from the lover's haze he'd been in and focused around him. She was definitely probing his essence harder, trying to break his defenses and delve what was under the disguise and she was using the sex to do it. The energy from their union was fueling the attempt, a means to dissipate the magics he used, and a means of distraction while she did it. Qiang realized this in a moment and managed to keep his anger in check. Two could play this game, but only one would win. And his every intention was that he would be the winner.

Qiang laid her back down on the pillows. He slowed the intensity of his lovemaking, carefully easing himself within her. Even for his young age, he was considered, at least to the dragons he'd been with, a deft lover and eager pupil. Anything he could learn to bring pleasure was of interest to him and he listened intently to any wisdom sent his way. Now, he brought every technique he learned to bear. Whatever else she might be, she was human enough in that moment to respond to his administrations. Her back arched and her body developed a fine sheen of perspiration as she gave more of herself over to him. When he pushed into her, he made sure to run his abdomen along hers, again stroking her stomach. The contented sounds she made told him he was on the right track. 

As he could feel himself approaching climax, an idea came to him. Qiang was very careful when pleasuring to not cause pregnancy. He wasn't ready to be a father yet. So he had become adept at controlling what happened when he came. Normally, it was inert. But this time...

He still didn't want to be a father, especially with some spirit whose nature he wasn't entirely sure of. But he could still leave something inside of her that would be of use to him. Carefully, he gathered energy from the flames burning in the lanterns. He felt his pearl grow warm within him as he processed the energy and designed its purpose. He sat upright, so that the growing warmth wouldn't tip off Kohaku to anything amiss. He continued to thrust, his building climax being brought ever closer, and stronger, by the energy in his pearl. Kohaku bucked and twisted beneath him, her own climax nigh. If he could time this just right... 

Kohaku released first, shuddering and sighing as her orgasm rocked her body. Then Qiang came, releasing the energy into her being. Her back arched as she took it deeply into herself. Qiang could see the energy as a glow within her, working its way deeper. Once it was settled, as Kohaku was uncoupling from him, he activated it. 

Russet fur suddenly erupted over Kohaku's body, starting from her sex and spreading all over. She gasped as she looked down at herself and pushed away from Qiang. Her feet bent and twisted, one tail then another sneaked their way from under her gown and her lovely face morphed into a fox's head with a small blue flame burning between her ears. She still bore the basic shape of a woman, but now it was covered with red fur, with white fur running from the under side of her snout to where it went red again at her vagina. She looked herself over, trying to determine what happened. Then her hand went to her abdomen, pushing and prodding it. A look of shock followed closely by anger crossed her muzzle. 

"What have you done to me?" she demanded. 

Qiang leaned back against the pillows, his air of smug satisfaction causing Kohaku's grim expression to become even more annoyed. "Nothing more than what you were trying to do to me. A kitsune, eh? I should have realized it, but I'm not that familiar with the Japanese spirit folk. Though you must be quite clever to hide the flame." 

Qiang had never attempted magic of this nature before, and was rather pleased with the outcome. On a whim, he attempted to manipulate the energy he'd left and sensed it respond. Kohaku squirmed, her hand pressing against her abdomen. 

"I wasn't attempting anything like this. Undo it. " 

"No." 

She snarled at him. "You'd best watch yourself," she rose, her tone low and dangerous. She pulled back her robe, showing both tails. "You say you know what a kitsune is. Then you should know how terrible my vengeance will be." 

Qiang shook his head. Then using the energy he'd implanted moved both of them through the veil. Before she could respond Qiang dropped the human form and lounged as a dragon before her, his tail rolling lazily behind him. Kohaku's eyes went wide. Then she ducked her head and prostrated herself at his feet. 

"I...I did not know," she said softly. 

Qiang snorted. He could feel his elder's call but advised Zongxian he was merely dealing with a trickster spirit and begged his indulgence to handle it. Qiang felt the mental equivalent of a shrug and Zongxian's presence was gone. 

"Nor were you supposed to," he said, his attention back on Kohaku. "Perhaps in the future you will not be so willing to pry into other's business." 

Kohaku remained prostrate, but asked, "How was I to know I was prying into the affairs of a dragon? This is hardly the place one would expect to meet a dragon." 

"True. But if I wasn't a dragon, you still wouldn't have the right to pry. And get up from the ground, already." 

Kohaku sat back, her tails splayed around her, the ends twitching. "Very well," she said after a moment's pondering her hand again rubbing her abdomen where the spell settled in her core. "This is your punishment, then. I accept that. What will happen to me? What will...this...do?" 

Qiang sighed with a toss of his head, the sound coming out more as a huff. "This isn't a punishment, per se. It's...insurance that you won't be bothering me with your tricks. Behave yourself and you won't even notice it's there. Much," he conceded with a shrug. "But, continue your fox games with me, or mine, and you'll find out just how unpleasant I can make things for you. Of course, this experience doesn't have to be unpleasant." Qiang's expression turned unexpectedly suggestive as he again worked the magic he'd embedded in her. 

Kohaku leaned further away from Qiang, uncertainty on her face. As she felt the alien essence within her start to become more active her hand rubbed at her stomach fur wishing desperately she could somehow remove the energy inside her. Then the energy started to warm. As the dragon had said, it wasn't an unpleasant sensation at all. In fact, it felt very good. Her other hand drifted over as she began to message the area. The warmth spread, working downward, titillating her as it went. Kohaku laid back, a soft moan escaping her. Her hands followed the sensation as it went to her womanhood. One hand cupped her mound as the warmth spread throughout her. The other drifted back to her stomach to message the area where the incredible sensation started. Oh, by Heaven this dragon knew his work well. 

She worked her fingers into her channel, but the act was almost superfluous to what the dragon was doing. The warmth had permeated throughout her sex and was pulsing, each beat sending waves of pleasure through her. Her fingering took the same tempo as the pulse. She again moaned softly, lost in the sensations running through her. 

Qiang, to his surprise, found his own body responding. As he manipulated the energy within Kohaku his own pearl began to warm and pulse, sending the same sensations through him. He had been lying on his hip, but his back legs pivoted so that the underscales between his legs were flat against the floor. Qiang had not shifted them very far into the spirit realm, so that they were still in the spirit echo of Kohaku's tent. The silks scattered about the floor caressed his scales, tantalizing the already quickly sensitizing area. His back claws began to dig into the pillows as his tail twisted and kinked behind him. He felt his shaft press against his scales and his hips began to grind into the exquisite silks and deliciously yielding pillows. The scent of Kohaku's sex only made the feelings more intense.




Driving the Last Spike Ch. 03



As he brought Kohaku to her brink so his own body followed suit. He considered his situation, and realized he shouldn't be surprised at all. The energy he was wielding in Kohaku originated from him. It wasn't his essence, but it was his energy. And one thing he'd learned of being a fire dragon, fire loved pleasure. He smiled, and let things run their course. 

Kohaku wriggled pleasantly as the energy snaked through her, stroking her from the inside. She fingered and stroked her mound and tunnel relentlessly. Soon, her back arched and with a small yelp, she came, a small pool forming around her hand and soaking into the silks. 

Kohaku lay with her eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of her body coming down from the rush of orgasm. The hand massaging her abdomen stopped moving and rested there. The energy died down to the flicker she'd been feeling before Qiang's little demonstration. She came to better understood what he meant by noticing it much. Even when it wasn't engaged, she could feel it inside her, as a comfortably warm, tickling flame flickering and dancing around her solar plexus. 

She probed it and sighed. She was a two-tailed kitsune, and quite clever, but she wasn't powerful enough to undo the dragon's magic. She couldn't even change her form back to a woman, or completely to a fox. She would be stuck with his spell for however long he decided to leave it lodged in her. Still, he had been right in two aspects. The little flame wasn't terribly noticeable, it was actually kind of nice in a way, and it could be very pleasurable. That also meant his other statement was most likely very true. He could make it very unpleasant. 

Kohaku sat up, still regarding her middle with a mix of her previous euphoria and the coming resignation. "That's quite a stick and carrot you've saddled me with," she said. As she looked up, she saw the spreading liquid staining the silks around his back legs and smiled. "Well, looks like you had quite the time, too." 

"Yes, so it would seem. Sorry for any silks I may have damaged." 

Kohaku laughed lightly. "You're hardly the first." Her smile turned sultry. "Looks like we may be spending more time in each other's company, though." 

Qiang considered this for a moment. He liked physical pleasure, there was no denying that fact. A certain hedonism tended to come with the fire element. Though he tried with a few of the others, the fact that most of them hated what they did dampened any mood he tried to build with them. The fact that he was hiding his nature meant he had to be careful with them. Any magic he did to enhance their experience wouldn't hurt them, but if they realized anything his life in this place could get very difficult. Here, he didn't have that concern and his spell would keep any of her fox tricks at bay. 

"I could see where this could be mutually beneficial," he conceded with a quirk of his head. "Just so long as you remember no tricks on me or mine. I'll know any attempt, and I will respond." 

Kohaku became suddenly business like. "Yes, I understand that. Now what do you mean, exactly, by you and yours. Clearly, I know no tricks on you, but who, exactly, are yours? Fai, obviously, though he's no trouble. And Owen is equally obviously an open target..." 

"No," Qiang said, firmly. "He is not. Leave the man in peace." 

She cocked her head. "Leave the man in peace? The man doesn't know the meaning of the word. He leaves no one else in peace." 

Qiang bobbed his head, trying to find a way to express the dichotomy that was Owen Connolly and his equally conflicted feelings about the man. Instead, he asked, "Does he bother any of the ladies?" While Qiang could accept that Owen Connolly was a man of uncertain temper, he couldn't look away from him abusing women far weaker then him. 

"No, not really. He'll come for a poke occasionally, but tends to prefer drinking and brawling." 

"Fine. How's this: no fox tricks on anybody. Leave the men in peace." 

Kohaku slowly stood up, the anger welling up in her transmitted to Qiang quite clearly through the spell. "No," she said, low and dangerous. "You can't make me agree to that." 

Qiang cocked his head. "Oh, can't I?" he asked. 

The flame roused to life within her, the warmth not as comfortable as before. She glared at him. 

"Fine," she spat, sitting back down. "Then you'd best find ways to make 'yours' behave." 

"What do you mean?" he asked. 

"You don't really see what goes on amongst the camp followers, do you?" 

Qiang shrugged and spread his front claws wide. "No, I must confess my ignorance here. Enlighten me. Bear in mind, I'll know if you're lying." The flickering flame pulsed again. 

Kohaku rubbed her fur. "As if I could forget," she muttered. "In truth, some of the men are very nice to them. They speak gently to them, tell them about their homelands and ask the ladies about theirs. They seem as much interested in company and talking as sex. Make no mistake, they still consider them whores. There'll be no marriage beds. But at least to these men they're whores with names and faces. These men I have no issue with. Indeed, I wish there were more of them. Most of the men come for the services provided. They pay their rate, have their roll, then go on their way. These men I also have no problem with. Not as nice as the first ones, but still within the bounds of what's to be expected. But there are those who come for services, but think the services are whatever they want them to be. It is this last group, and they are much more numerous than I would like, that I have a problem with." 

Qiang cocked his head. "What do these men do?" 

"Whatever they please. You've been in the work details, you know how difficult the work is, how hard these men are driven. How brutal the foremen are. Well, once these men have been beaten and yelled at and made to feel less then human, they take it out on those they can. The women who provide the services. There are evil words, bruised flesh, and broken bones left when these men are done. And these women are considered the lowest of the low. There is no one they can turn to. So I hear their sorrows and make right what I can." 

"Is it amongst the Irish that this happens?" 

Kohaku barked a harsh laugh. "How can you be a dragon and be that naïve? Open your eyes and you will find men are men, regardless of their skin or country of origin. Some are kind, many are indifferent and many more are worse than animals. It can happen from any of the men who come for the services. I will say your boy Fai is among the better of them. Those who are among the worst, I make myself their consort and then, well, I assure you I have my ways." 

Qiang cocked his head as a thought occurred to him. "Then why did you make yourself my consort? I cannot think of any misdeed I may have done towards these women." 

"Oh, you were purely for curiosity's sake. I could tell you had magic of some sort about you and wondered what you were and why you were here. Those who come by this line of work, either the men or the women, have nowhere else to go. A man of magic would have somewhere else to go. Now finding you a dragon, I confess I'm even more confused. It would seem to me a servant, no, clearly a minister of Heaven, such as yourself, would be of better use elsewhere. It seems odd to me to find you here at all..." Kohaku trailed off, shrugging with feigned indifference. 

"That is still my business. Might I remind you the entire reason you're in your present predicament is prying into my business?" 

"Fine," she humphed, crossing her arms. "Keep your secrets. It hardly matters to me at this point." 

"And well it shouldn't." Qiang dipped his head, thinking. While he'd been aware of the camp followers for some time, he wasn't aware how badly ill-used they were. In many ways, their situation wasn't all that different from the men he worked with, traded into lives of gross labor by desperate circumstances or indifferent family. His attention was focused more so on the workers, and even if he did focus on the prostitutes, he couldn't really do much for them as he was still under his elder's orders not to get involved. It seemed, even with her fox tricks, her protection of these women was far more effective than anything he could do. 

"So be it, then," he said at last. "Keep to this work, but only bedevil those that deserve it, leave the rest alone." 

Kohaku spread her arms wide. "Like this?" she asked, gesturing to her fox form. 

"Oh, that." Qiang offhandedly gestured and Kohaku felt the flame shift. Her human form was restored. 

"Will I be able to shift on my own, or must I seek you out?" 

"You will have control of your own magics. Use your fox tricks wisely, though." 

Kohaku brought her hands together and bowed to Qiang. "I shall do so," she promised solemnly.

****************************************

"Did she keep her promise?" Chang asked. 

"Well enough," Qiang hedged. 

"Did you visit her again?" Mingzhu asked, her tone holding only curiosity. Qiang was relieved that there appeared to be nothing else. 

"We had our dalliances, surely." 

"Um, I got a question." Qiang caught a tone in Sebastian's voice that indicated this question may not be one of mere curiosity. 

"Yes?" 

"How is it you can control whether or not you can knock someone up, but you can't keep the population stable?" 

"Ah," Qiang said, understanding the tension in Sebastian's voice. He again looked to Chang, who this time chose to answer. 

"We are now back to the mandate of Heaven," Chang explained. Sebastian turned his attention to his elder. "You see, we can decide that we wish to plant seed in a female dragon, and she can be quite willing to carry it. But that does not mean life will come forth. Why this is, I do not know." 

"Paradoxically enough," Qiang said, "It's more likely to take with a non-dragon than dragon. But even then, the chances are low. Some have put forth the theory that as creatures of Heaven, we are bound to Heaven's...whims I suppose is too flip a word, but you get what I mean." 

"'Whims' is too flip a word," Chang rumbled. He turned his attention back to Sebastian, his tone softening. "Though I do understand your frustration at the situation." 

Sebastian dipped his head. "It's not frustration, exactly," he said. "I guess I just wondered." 

Chang nodded. "It's a fair question. I simply wish I had a better answer. Though 'whims'", he gave an arch look to Qiang, "is flip, the idea holds water. We are celestial creatures, Sebastian. It is perhaps necessary to the balance that we remain few." He cocked his head in consideration. "And maybe Heaven has wisdom in introducing new blood to us in the way you were made a dragon," he reached his head over and nudged Sebastian, "that we may learn new ways of seeing. While I am sorry that your life as been so completely altered by what has happened, I cannot say I am sorry you came our way." 

Sebastian's head remained dipped, but he smiled broadly. 

Dakota reached up and stroked Sebastian's jaw, then turned her attention to Qiang, her expression uncomfortable. 

"I get Kohaku was prying into your business, and was trying to use magic to do it, but what you did was still kind of a dick move." 

"I suppose it was," Qiang conceded. "Truly, I meant no harm by it and only used it to maintain my privacy from her. That there were other ways of using it I will admit, but every other time they were used with her permission. Indeed, with her insistence as often as not. As she often chose the worst of the men, she rather liked a break where her pleasure was guaranteed. Or at least her physical pleasure. I don't doubt she enjoyed bringing low the cruelest of the men." 

Sebastian looked over to Qiang. "What did you put there, exactly? Was it like what Dakota and I have?" 

Qiang shook his head. "Oh no, no, no. At no point did we have that kind of intimacy or trust. What I placed in Kohaku was energy fashioned into a spell to allow me access to her essence, and limited control over her." He paused. "A dick move, perhaps," he confirmed with a gesture of his claw. "But I will say I wouldn't have done anything to her if she hadn't tried the same trick on me." 

Chang's muzzle curled into a smile. "Two wrongs make a right? I assume Zongxian never found out about this?" 

"While Zongxian has not now, or ever, had any fondness for tricksters, he most likely would have disagreed with my methods. Though his disagreement would have been keeping any sort of arrangement with her rather than simply forcing her out." 

"Are kitsune bad?" Dakota asked. 

"Well, that largely depends on the kitsune. Perhaps even more so than humans, kitsune can run the gambit of personality types, though they do mostly tend to be tricksters regardless of their moral character, and possession can be a favorite game. Now Kohaku, she could take a trick too far on occasion, and wasn't always as careful as I would have liked with the fallout of her tricks, but, on the whole, she wasn't as bad as some I've met." 

"Did you meet many other spirits?" Mingzhu asked. 

Qiang fell silent, considering his answer. "In truth, I did find it remarkable the assortment of spirits I was meeting. And I will say, it got me thinking..."

*************************************