You already have access to Chapter One of Omega Dragon here.
Now you can read the beginning of Chapter Two:
Instructions for raising your sister from the dead. Matt leaned his elbows on one end of Abaddon’s long stone table and held the phone’s screen close to his eyes. The message title was so surreal, like a chapter heading from a miracle worker’s secret handbook. Yet, with Lauren’s corpse lying stretched out on the table’s surface, the words delivered a cruel slap of reality.
Matt checked a foot-tall hourglass that stood a hand’s breadth away from Lauren’s hip. Sand trickled slowly to the pile in the lower glass. According to Abaddon, the sand counted the seconds until this chamber and the entire realm would be annihilated. Perhaps twenty minutes remained to resurrect Lauren and escape through a portal in a nearby window, currently shuttered to keep a stiff breeze from blowing through. That pathway led to Hades, and from there they could access Second Eden, where Semiramis had planted a lethal device—a second ticking time bomb.
Listener stood to his right in front of a pedestal that held Abaddon’s resurrection book. Her eyes moved from side to side as she read something on a page near the beginning.
“What are you reading?” he asked.
“Oh.” She looked up, her cheeks flushed. “A story. It’s written in a language I understand, so I decided to read it.”
“What’s it about?”
“I shouldn’t take the time to tell you.” Firm lips matched a stern tone. Her egg-shaped companion hovered close to her ear, flashing red and painting a dim aura over her form-fitting beige tunic, roomy black trousers, and bare feet. “I apologize. I shouldn’t be so terse. I haven’t felt like myself lately.”
“Don’t worry about it. Probably just stress. With Valiant gone, too many people are relying on you.”
“How well I know.” She ran gentle fingers across the book’s page. “But that’s no excuse for impatient words. Please forgive me.”
“No problem.” Matt looked past a pair of humanlike statues that stood between him and an exit corridor. With vague features on both body and face, the statues lacked enough definition to be recognizable. Sir Barlow had positioned the more feminine statue closer than the other. He said that it had spoken to him, and the words indicated that Lauren’s soul resided within, but it had stayed quiet ever since. A few minutes ago he left through the corridor to search for other statues, hoping that maybe a new one containing Darcy’s soul might have materialized. “Do you think we should wait for Sir Barlow?”
Listener craned her neck. Matt joined her in listening. Complete silence reigned, save for the tiniest crackling from the candlewicks as they emitted a delicate, earthy aroma. “I don’t hear him,” she said. “We really have no idea when he’ll return, so we should proceed without him.”
“Maybe he’ll show up while we’re working.”
“Of course. Trust the Father of Lights.” With her signature pigtails beginning to unravel and her eyes wide and focused, Listener looked like a teenager on a dangerous mission, though she was probably nearly thirty Earth years old. Such was the blessing of living in Second Eden’s slow-to-age environment. In contrast, the rips at the knees and elbows of her battle garments as well as a spyglass and sheathed dagger attached to her belt made her look like a fresh-from-combat warrior. “We can also trust Sir Barlow. He knows what he’s doing.”
“I believe that.” Matt touched Lauren’s pale face—cold and dry. Although she had been dead for a couple of hours, her limbs had stayed pliable. A pair of necklaces—a chain with a medallion and a string of beads—draped her motionless chest. Each bead glowed with a unique color, giving visibility to the seventh door’s transparent key and its attached ring, which lay loose on her shirt.
“We don’t want to lose this.” He attached the ring to the medallion’s chain. “Let’s get started.”
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