The Dragon Pool: The Dragon Pool Page 7

  Now, though, he had seen them together. Professor Bruttenholm had watched them warily as they greeted one another, and Abe had watched as well--had found it impossible not to watch. It was all still there, between them. Hellboy pretended he didn't still feel what he once felt, and Anastasia pretended not to notice. Abe had spent months floating in a tank studying the people around him--even as they were studying him--and the dynamics between Hellboy and Anastasia were impossible to miss.

  If Professor Bruttenholm disliked Dr. Bransfield, he could hardly be blamed. She would likely be a source of both happiness and sorrow to Hellboy as long as he lived; after her death, his memory of her would linger. It was natural for a father to wish his son's sadness away.

  What the professor did not see was that Anastasia carried a similar melancholy with her in Hellboy's presence. She was as helpless as Hellboy to prevent it. Circumstances had brought them together again. Professor Bruttenholm might blame Anastasia for requesting the BPRD's involvement in the first place--she would know that Hellboy would come, no questions asked--but what else could she have done, given the situation?

  Abe swam. The lake surrounded him with solaceand pleasure. Yet he could not swim far enough to escape the inevitable sadness of this venture. Hellboy, Anastasia, and Professor Bruttenholm would all come away from this case with heavy hearts. There was no avoiding that.

  In the meantime, all they could do was their best. The missing girl, Kora Kyichu, would be their focus, as it should be. And the desperation of searching for her, wondering if she was alive, would protect them all for a while.

  Reluctantly, Abe focused on the task at hand. He'd have a better look in the morning, but for now he swam along the lake bottom, searching for some kind of ancient ruin or even a lair where a mystical creature might be hiding. Nothing was beyond imagining. They knew so little about what was going on here that he had to consider every possibility.

  From what he could see in the dark, however, there was nothing unusual at the bottom of the lake. The only oddity he discovered was a strange featurelessness. There was little vegetation down here, and no rough terrain at all. The bottom consisted of soil so loose that when he paused a moment in his swimming and tried to put his feet down, he sank halfway to his knees.

  The soil was warm. He shook himself loose, worried that it might be like underwater quicksand, and he'd find it difficult to free himself. But he slid out as easily as he'd sunk in, and began to swim for the surface. In the morning, he would return to the lake bottom, but he already knew he would find nothing but sand. If there was anything to find, it would have buried itself in that shifting silt by now.

  Only when he had nearly reached the surface, not far from shore, did it occur to him that the soil had been too warm. He paused, floating for a moment. It wasn't just the soil. Given the time of year and the chilly air up in these mountains, the lake ought to have been fairly cold. Near the surface, it was, but it should have gotten colder the deeper he swam.

  Instead, the depths of the lake were warm.

  Chapter 4

  Hellboy took an instant dislike to Mark Conrad. When Anastasia had met him, getting off the helicopter, he'd been too distracted by her to pay much attention to the people with her. Now, though, Conrad had an arrogant-rich-boy thing going on that made Hellboy want to hammer him into the ground with his fist. Dr. Conrad had a three-day stubble of beard that seemed by choice of style, and wavy blond hair that hung to his shoulders. He was fit, but the red in his eyes said he normally drank too much. And he occupied the space within Anastasia's tent as though they were serfs and he their feudal master.

  Rich, uptight, English prig. It didn't help that he was handsome, and aware of it, and that he had a kind of proprietary air about him when standing beside Anastasia. From the way Conrad kept looking back and forth between Hellboy and Anastasia, it was obvious he was aware of their past relationship. It was also pretty clear how he felt about it. His nostrils flared with barely disguised disgust whenever he had to address Hellboy directly.

  Which meant Hellboy tried to force Conrad to address him directly as often as possible, just to bother the asshat, and to amplify his own desire to pummel him.

  They had all gathered in Anastasia's tent for the debriefing--Hellboy, Professor Bruttenholm, Dr. Conrad, Anastasia herself, and the man from Beijing, whose name was Lao. No first or last. Just Lao, like Madonna or Cher. As annoying as his superior smugness was, it didn't make Hellboy want to break him in two the way Conrad's attitude did. Maybe that was because Lao hadn't so much as flinched upon meeting him, had barely spoken to him or looked at him. Lao wasn't fazed by the presence of an enormous guy with sawed-off horns, bloodred skin, and a tail.

  Hellboy liked that. Flunky for insidious secret government masters he might be, but Lao didn't look down his nose at the red guy.

  The tent was huge. Given that it doubled as the command center for the dig, it had to be. Still, Hellboy had to crouch a little to stand inside, and he didn't like that. It made him feel foolish, so he tried not to meet Anastasia's gaze when he could avoid it.

  Professor Kyichu hadn't been brought into the briefing, and that was good. Hellboy had felt the urge to say something to the man, to offer him some comfort or reassurance, but he'd been unable to come up with anything that didn't sound hollow or insincere. Better to have the man elsewhere, at least for the moment.

  Conrad had finished giving them all a rundown of the discovery of the dig site and their operations up until now. Anastasia had asked him to do so, ceding the floor to him, and he took it as though he was entitled. Now that he was done, though, he looked up at Professor Bruttenholm, as if they were equals, and nobody else was in the tent.

  "It's late, Professor. What can we tell you that isn't in the documents you received?" Conrad asked.

  Professor Bruttenholm nodded, clearing his throat. "Thank you, Dr. Conrad. Perhaps you and Dr. Bransfield would be so kind as to--"

  "Shouldn't we wait for Abe?" Hellboy interrupted.

  His father raised a bushy white eyebrow. "Abe will be along shortly. Dr. Conrad is correct. It's quite late. Still, we ought to learn what we can."

  Conrad started to speak again, but Anastasia cut him off, both talking over him and stepping closer to the center of the tent.

  "What can we tell you, Professor? Where should we start?"

  Professor Bruttenholm cleared his throat. "Perhaps you could begin by telling me what you expected to find when you began the excavation."

  Conrad smiled thinly. "Surely, that's in the file, sir. Our mandate was to locate and restore the fortress city of an ancient warlord known in those times as the Dragon King, due to his symbolic use of the Asian dragon motif in his city and the temple he built to the gods. Dozens of references in scrolls from those times refer to the deadly power of the Dragon King, raining fire and destruction down upon his enemies and all of the villages in the area, whom he forced to worship him."

  Hellboy threw up his hands. "Yeah, yeah, pal, we read all that. But that's just a version of the story. You found this Dragon King Temple, and there's something about local legends of real dragons and the lake. Now you've got monsters rousting your camp, causing trouble, maybe taking this little girl away, trying to stop you. Gotta tell you, everyone's worried about the girl, Kora, but the way the report read, nobody seemed all that stunned about subhuman creatures sabotaging your dig."

  Professor Bruttenholm nodded and gestured his agreement with a flourish of his right hand. "Precisely. Which prompts the question, why is no one surprised by this? What were you really looking for?"

  Conrad sneered. "You people are off your nut. Our intent here isn't at issue. Can you help us, or not?"

  But Professor Bruttenholm wasn't looking at him anymore. He was staring at Anastasia, who glanced reluctantly at Conrad before nodding. "You're right, of course, Professor."

  Hellboy loved the look of confusion and consternation on Conrad's face. He wasn't used to being out of the loop, obviously. Cut
off his self-image at the knees.

  "Talk, Stasia. Let's not waste any more time," Hellboy said.

  She nodded, and when she spoke, her gaze shifted between him and Professor Bruttenholm, ignoring Dr. Conrad and Lao entirely. Hellboy thought it was interesting that Lao seemed to be able to disappear in a room so that nobody noticed him at all.

  "If Dr. Conrad's interpretation of those ancient texts had been accurate," Anastasia began, "this would still have been a wonderful bit of archaeology, and an important opportunity to study ancient Tibet. But Mark, along with my employers at the British Museum and the Chinese government, arrived at their interpretations by first discounting the folklore involved."

  Conrad laughed and shook his head. "Stacie, what are you talking about? Are you trying to imply the Dragon King--"

  Hellboy held his breath when Anastasia looked at him.

  "Was a dragon," she said, casting a quick glance at Conrad. "Yes. That's precisely what I'm saying." Her gaze returned to Hellboy and Professor Bruttenholm. "Oh, call it whatever you like--whatever fits your narrow imagination. Monster. Giant Gila monster. Miraculous survivor of Paleolithic times. All of that would be utter shite, of course, but if it makes it easier for you to accept..."

  Professor Bruttenholm stroked his goatee, studying her. "Obviously, Hellboy and I have no difficulty--"

  "Dragons!" Dr. Conrad said, too loudly. When he realized the volume of his voice, he hushed himself and looked around incredulously. At last he set his sights on the man from Beijing, thinking perhaps that Lao was the sole voice of reason remaining in the room. "Are you truly listening to this? This isn't science, it's childish nonsense. Dragons and princesses. Next she's going to tell me she believes in vampires."

  Lao smoothed the lapels of his black jacket and fixed Dr. Conrad with a dark stare. "Of course she does, doctor," the man from Beijing said, in perfect, crisp English. "And with good reason."

  Conrad spun, nose wrinkled in revulsion, and turned to Professor Bruttenholm. "This is absurd!"

  "Not at all, Dr. Conrad. Vampires are, I assure you, quite real. Seventy-seven different breeds have been cataloged by the BPRD, and I can only presume there are others. Fortunately, they do not seem to be the problem here. Now, if you'll be so kind as to allow Dr. Bransfield to speak, perhaps we can return to my original question."

  The man fumed, but he crossed his arms and said nothing further. Hellboy almost wished he would. At some point, his father would have told him to remove Conrad from the tent if he continued to impede their investigation. Would've been fun.

  "Go on, Dr. Bransfield," Professor Bruttenholm said.

  Hellboy couldn't have missed the cold professionalism in his father's tone, the distance there. The way Anastasia blinked, it was clear that she heard it as well. But she was used to being clinical and meticulous.

  "Thank you, Professor," she replied, glancing from Bruttenholm to Hellboy and back. "Han Kyichu is the only member of my team who was aware of my beliefs regarding our discovery. He concurred with them. The legends about the Dragon Pool and the temple of the Dragon King are fairly straightforward. In fact, just before Kora was reported missing, he'd found writing within one of the excavated structures that indicated it was the actual temple of the Dragon King."

  Conrad waved a dismissive hand. "Which it wasn't."

  Anastasia nodded. "On that, I'm afraid Mark is correct. What we'd thought was the temple turned out to be something else entirely."

  Hellboy ran a hand over his stubbly pate. "You've lost me, Stasia. There's some stuff about the legend in the case file. But gimme the short version. What are we dealing with here, and when do I get to hit it?"

  She smiled wanly and went across the tent to a table upon which lay stacks of journals and thick sheaves of bound documents. Anastasia pushed a couple of them out of the way, picked up a phone-book-sized report, and flipped it open. She made as if to bring it to Hellboy, then raised an eyebrow at her folly and handed it to Professor Bruttenholm instead. She knew Hellboy wasn't good with the homework.

  "In the morning, you can see the room itself. The preparatory chamber, according to Dr. Conrad, and I concur."

  Hellboy threw up his hands. "Preparing for what? And whose chamber was it? Lay it out for us."

  "The Dragon King Pool is an ancient legend that describes a large, turbulent lake, beneath which resided an evil dragon who caused devastation, fire, and floods, and brought misery to all those who would not serve him...and often those he had already conquered and forced into his service."

  "Swell guy," Hellboy muttered.

  "He was a king," Anastasia said, as if that explained it all. And, in a way, it did. "The Dragon King's subjects were forced to build a temple to worship him. He considered himself a god. Not exactly unusual back then. Every silly bugger with a bit of power fancied himself a deity. Same thing happens nowadays, they just don't let on that they've promoted themselves to godhood. Anyway, point is, the Dragon King was supposed to be huge. Many other, lesser dragons served him. And then there were the conquered people, the slaves.

  "His subjects built a temple, and some kind of city around it, where they lived. We are one hundred percent certain that what we've found is the city of the Dragon King, and that Lake Tashi is the legendary Dragon Pool. But the temple is still a mystery to us. The geography doesn't suggest any buildings of the size that would be required for such a temple."

  Professor Bruttenholm looked troubled. He also looked tired. Hellboy wished Anastasia would offer him a chair. Not that his father would take it.

  "And this preparatory chamber?" the professor said.

  "The legend states that the only way for the locals, even those who were his subjects, to placate the Dragon King was to offer him a child in sacrifice. Once a year, a child was chosen and thrown into the lake, which would churn and steam with the fire of the Dragon King. The child would never be seen again. The figures and characters on the door to the preparatory chamber referred to the sacrifice and to the temple, which made Professor Kyichu think that it was the temple itself. The saboteur caved in the entrance to the chamber, focused there, as though it was of far more importance than anything else we're excavating. And I suppose it is. Once we dug it out, Dr. Conrad discerned the true nature of the place."

  Hellboy took a few steps toward his father, but Professor Bruttenholm waved him off, a stern expression on his face. He didn't like to be fussed over. Stubborn old goat, Hellboy thought.

  He looked at Anastasia, Lao, and Conrad, each in turn. Nothing that had been said seemed to have fazed Lao, but Conrad kept rolling his eyes and sighing in obvious dismay that they were all speaking with such credulity about dragons and their human worshippers.

  "Let's talk about this saboteur," Hellboy said. "Mr. Lao?"

  The man from Beijing regarded him coolly, without speaking.

  Professor Bruttenholm cleared his throat again, a reminder that he was leading the investigation. "Mr. Lao, does the Bureau have your assurance that your government is in no way involved in the sabotage of this expedition?"

  Lao revealed no emotion at all. "You insult us, Professor."

  "And you have my apologies. That wasn't my intention. But the question had to be asked, and answered. I take it your official answer is 'no.'"

  The man from Beijing flinched, almost imperceptibly. He did not like to be pushed. "That is correct."

  "Thank you," Professor Bruttenholm said.

  "Okay," Hellboy began, turning the focus back to Anastasia. "What, then? You shot the guy, you said. He dived into the lake--"

  "Several miles to the northwest there is a village. Nakchu. I took a small party to the village this morning to ask about Kora. I was as diplomatic as possible. Only the elder spoke, and he didn't offer his name. No one in Nakchu had seen Kora, or so he told our guide, Tenzin. But when I was there, I saw a fellow with a bright red spot on his shirt, right where I'd shot the...intruder, the night before."

  "Blood."

  "Probably."r />
  "So you think he was your guy? That he took a bullet, dived into the lake, and hiked back to his village before daybreak?"

  Anastasia nodded. "Yes. I do."

  "Bollocks!" Dr. Conrad said. "And I suppose he was wearing some sort of monster mask every time he came into camp? The man you and Danovich and the others spotted was disfigured, Stacie, you said so yourself."

  "Hideous," she replied, and Hellboy was troubled by the disquiet in her voice. "He had fire burning in his eyes."

  "You mean they glowed?" Professor Bruttenholm asked.

  "No," Anastasia said, shaking her head. "I mean they were on fire. Flames flickered from his eyes like...have you ever seen a building on fire, the way the blaze shoots up from the burned out windows? Like that."

  Hellboy stared at her. "So, when you said you had reason to believe he was a shape-shifter?"

  "What I saw wasn't a mask. Danovich will tell you the same. This thing wasn't human. But the young man I saw--handsome lad. Nothing out of the ordinary at all, except that bloodstain on his shirt."

  "He could have gotten that a thousand ways. You don't even know it was blood!" Conrad protested.

  "It was blood," Lao said, and from the way Anastasia and Conrad glanced at him, Hellboy had the impression the man from Beijing was being downright verbose with them tonight in comparison to his usual MO.

  Professor Bruttenholm crossed his arms. This time when Hellboy went to him, he allowed himself to be escorted to a chair and slid down into it gratefully, deep in thought.

  "Tell me, Dr. Bransfield," the professor said, stiffly formal. "How does this legend end? Such bits of folklore always have a colorful ending."

  "This one is no different. An order of monks refused to serve the Dragon King. He burned many of them and threatened to destroy them all if they would not worship him. But among them was a monk who was a warrior and sorcerer, though small in stature. A dwarf."