Free Heart of a Dragon by David Niall Wilson

not even be here."
    Donovan's heart raced, but he kept his mind clear and controlled the tremble that tried to slip out his arm to his fingers.
    "I followed him here.   I crossed your border in pursuit of a killer.   In the past, that has never been considered a breach of etiquette, or trust…"
    "This is…different." Martinez said.
    The boy began to stir, and Martinez turned back to him.   Donovan watched, and that momentary distraction was his undoing. In that moment, something small and covered in tan fur leapt from the shadows.   It gave a growl and latched onto Donovan's heel.   He spun, kicked out, and sent the small creature flying, but that moment was all that Martinez required.   He cried out in a language Donovan vaguely recognized as originating in South America – very old – and the air grew suddenly black with a dark, cloying mist.   Donovan cursed and lunged toward where the boy had lain on the ground, but he found nothing but bare ground.   There was no sound.   Not even the crackling of the fire broke the silence.   Whatever Martinez had conjured, it dulled sight and sound, scent and sensation.   Donovan closed his eyes and waited.
    When he opened them, he stood alone.   The lot was empty, and the fire was out. There was no sign that anyone else had been there, and no sign of where they might have gone.   He considered pulling out the green lens and following.   He knew he could track Martinez easily enough, but he wasn't sure he was prepared for such a confrontation.   He'd hoped to get in and out undetected.   The situation now required more than he could bring to the table alone.
    He turned, slowly, and left the Barrio the way he'd entered.   He stepped into the shadowed streets beyond, turned into an alley, and a moment later he was gone.   He wondered what he would tell the girl's mother.   He only hoped that he was right, and that the girl was dead.   If she lived…
    ~ * ~
    Donovan shook his head.   So many years.
    "He was my son," Martinez said softly.   "I should have told you, but I was afraid that he'd be taken anyway.   I was afraid you, and others, would use the knowledge to find him more easily and lock him away."
    "I would have helped you," Donovan said.   "I had no answer for that girl's mother.   When we sent word to you, asking how you had resolved the situation, you never responded."
    "I should have told you," Martinez sighed.   "I should have trusted you, but I did not know you – I'm not sure that I know you now.   I did not want to lose him."
    "And did you?"
    Martinez smiled.   "No. In fact, you may be interested in the solution that I found.   He was difficult, as you may imagine, but he did not escape.   Not again.   His family helped…and others.   We kept him well protected at the proper times, and then I found what I had been looking for.   It's a collar, cast silver and inscribed with the proper symbols at the proper time.   As long as he wears it, the moon has no effect.   He has been living a normal life … giving me grandchildren.   I should have come to you…told you…there are always things we regret."
    Donovan nodded.   He took a sip of his bourbon.
    "You have the instructions?" he asked softly.   "There are others that I know of, men and women who have been too-long imprisoned…"
    "Of course," Martinez replied.   "I have them with me, and more.   I've brought you something – not that a gift can make up for years of silence – but I've also come to ask for your help.   I have another boy under my care now and a war on my doorstep."
    "I tend to stay out of wars," Donovan said, "particularly in the Barrio.    I've heard rumors, though, disturbing rumors.   I'm told the Anya Cabrera is walking a very fine line."
    "She has long since crossed that line," Martinez said.   He caught himself before he