'I don't know if I deserve such confidence,' he said, 'but I will do my best to store this safely. I will hold it…for you, Salvatore. I can sense it's power, but I believe that it is your gift to make connections. You made the connections between Snake, and his dragon, and it allowed you to open a portal between worlds. Your art is an extension of your ability to take something from the world — or from your mind — and bind it to whatever surface you work on. It is a rare gift.
'Some famous artists have shared it in a weaker version. They could trap images and amaze the world, but it never went beyond that. A few went mad from the visions their work brought them.'
At that moment, Cleo, tired of being ignored, scampered across the floor and hopped up onto Salvatore's lap. The cat rubbed its head against the boys chest. After the momentary shock of the animal's sudden appearance had passed, the boy reached down and scratched Cleo's ears.
Energy shifted in the air. Salvatore turned his gaze on Donovan, and it seemed as if he saw something far away — something beyond Donovan in the distance. Cleo let out a plaintive meow, arched her back, and head butted Salvatore gently, breaking the boy's concentration.
'You — and the cat — you are connected,' Salvatore said. 'I would not paint a dragon for you — it would be a cat. And…a crow?'
Donovan stared down at his familiar, and the young artist, and then glanced over at Martinez.
'No cats,' he said. 'Promise me he will paint no cats. And I don't even want to know about crows.'
Martinez laughed then, and the sound broke the tension in the room.
'I think it will be a long time before I paint again,' Salvatore said. 'I will stick to drawing with charcoal and chalk. I slept well last night for the first time since the dragons invaded my dreams. I am very tired, and I have a lot to learn. Also, Senor Jake and his lady, Helen, want me to start in school.'
The boy's smile was bright, and innocent, and Donovan reached out to ruffle his hair.
'I'm sure you'll do very well in school,' he said. 'Jake is a good man. You tell him Amethyst and I will stop by to visit soon.'
Martinez rose, and Salvatore, after he managed to get Cleo to step off onto the sofa, did the same.
'It has been… interesting,' Martinez said. He offered Donovan his hand.
As they shook, Donovan nodded.
'I will check in on Anya Cabrera's people,' he said. 'When I know what the situation is, we'll talk again.'
'I look forward to it,' Martinez said.
Salvatore was saying goodbye to Cleo, scratching gently behind her ears. The two men watched him for a moment, then Donovan lowered his voice.
'Take good care of him, Martinez. That one…he may be the most powerful of us all one day.'
Martinez nodded. 'I think you are right. One thing Snake said was true. That one has the heart of a dragon — and he has walked in their world. There is no telling what he might do.'
Salvatore glanced up, as if he knew they were talking about him, and smiled. Donovan shook his hand as well, and then he showed the two of them out. When the door had closed behind them, he went to his desk and pulled out a metal tube. He tucked the painting into it carefully, then sealed the end with a black cap. Once it was secure, he breathed on the cap and repeated the incantation he'd used on the ribbon.
He walked to the left hand shelf of the center cabinet of his library and gripped the fourth book from the right on the bottom shelf. The entire unit slid out. Behind it was a safe door. He carefully worked the combinations on the three locks securing it, and the door swung open. Inside was a solid block of black stone — obsidian — with round holes drilled into it. He tucked the tube into one of the slots. About half of them were already filled with similar tubes. The painting slid in easily. Donovan closed and sealed the door and swung the shelf back into place.
With a sigh, he turned away. The image of the city and it's colored spheres pulsed in the back of his mind. He shook his head to clear it, walked to his bar, and poured two fingers of strong brandy, which he carried back to his desk. Cleo jumped up beside the pile of documents he'd been cataloguing.
Donovan ruffled the cats fur and gazed into her eyes.
'You know, don't you?' he asked. 'You know what he would paint, and what he would see.'
Cleo didn't answer. She sat back on her haunches and began washing her forepaw as if bored.
Donovan chuckled and went back to work. He knew he'd have to start researching soon. He had to gather all the references on Worldwalkers he could find and get them to Martinez. Something told him he had not heard the last of Salvatore Domingo Sanchez.
He wondered what it would be like to talk to a dragon.
