by Mari Mancusi
“What, no welcoming party?” she managed to joke, shoving the fear down her throat. “You’d think for the Fire Kissed they’d at least spring for a few balloons. Maybe some chips and dip?”
Caleb smirked. “Just wait, princess,” he replied. “You’ll get all the welcome you want. And then some.”
Sure enough, not a moment later, Trin caught a mop of blond curls poking over the mall’s second floor railing. “He’s back!” the girl shouted, her voice echoing through the empty corridors. “Hey, guys! Caleb’s back!”
The mall sprang to life, dozens of people spilling out in every direction, rushing toward them with wild abandon. Soon Trinity found herself completely engulfed in a sea of excited faces, all babbling over one another, trying to get her attention.
“You’re here!”
“You’re finally here!”
“We’ve been waiting so long!”
“We’ve been dying to meet you!”
“Where’s the egg? Has she hatched yet? Did you bring the dragon?”
Overwhelmed, Trin took a hesitant step back, shooting Caleb a “help me” glance. He laughed, then clapped his hands together loudly.
“Hey, hey! Back up!” he commanded the crowd. “Let the poor girl breathe.” As the multitude sheepishly complied, he turned to Trin. “Guess I should have warned you,” he said with a sly grin. “You’re a bit of a legend here.”
Trinity’s eyes darted around the crowd, trying to take it all in. The group standing before her appeared to be all kids around her own age, dressed identically in navy blue sweats, white T-shirts, and matching tennis shoes. But the similarities ended there. Some were tall; some were short. Some were athletic, while others were fat or thin. Male and female, fair-skinned and dark—seemingly from every country under the sun. As if someone had managed to gather up an entire teenage United Nations under one roof.
“Are these the Dracken?” she asked hesitantly. “Are they all from the future?” The idea that all these kids had traveled back in time together was hard to believe.
Caleb shook his head. “These are the Potentials,” he explained. “All from your time.”
“Potentials?”
“Potential Dragon Guardians,” he clarified. “For the last two years the Dracken have been busy combing the world, looking for kids born with the gift. The ones they find are brought here to be tested. If they pass their initial trials, they’re initiated into the organization. Eventually each one will be assigned a dragon to bring back to his or her country. It’s the best way to make sure everyone gets to enjoy the dragons’ gifts in a peaceful, ordered way.”
“Right.” Once again, Trinity couldn’t help but wonder what the dragons themselves would think of such an arrangement. Would they get to choose their country or just be randomly assigned? Like, what was the poor dragon stuck shivering in Siberia going to think of his friend happily firing things up in Fiji? There were still a lot of unanswered questions to the Dracken’s master plan.
Before she could ask, a tall girl with smooth, olive skin and large, golden eyes stepped out from the pack of Potentials. She offered Trin a wide smile, then, without pause, threw her arms around her in a big bear hug. Trinity stiffened at the sudden spontaneous display of affection, but somehow managed to stand her ground.
“I’m Rashida,” the girl said as she pulled away from the hug. “May I be the first to welcome you home.”
Welcome home. Trinity couldn’t help but flinch at the all-too-familiar greeting. The same one she’d always hear when walking through the front door of yet another foster family. As if it could be that simple. As if the strangers standing before her could somehow become an insta-family—just add water!—by simply uttering those magic words. And while sure, some of the foster families had been nice enough and she’d eventually settled into their rules and routines, never once had any of those houses ever felt like home.
But this girl looked so happy. In fact, they all did. Every face in the crowd glowing with enthusiasm, as if completely thrilled to have Trin join them at last. She found she didn’t have the heart to disappoint them.
“Well, there’s no place like home,” she declared, flashing the Lollipop Guild a smile she didn’t feel. Now if only she could score some ruby slippers…
As Rashida retreated back into the crowd, a sudden rumbling echoed through the mall. Trin’s eyes lighted on an elevator at the center courtyard, its doors yawning open with a loud groan. The crowd immediately parted like the Red Sea as a man and a woman stepped out and made their way toward Trin and Caleb.
They were dressed simply—not unlike the rest of the Potentials. But something in their manner—something fluid and graceful—made them stand out from the pack. They were also older. The man was probably in his late fifties, black hair speckled with gray. The woman’s age was harder to judge; she had a seamless face but dark, serious eyes and long blond hair cascading down her back like flowing water. They glided through the crowd, and the Potentials bowed their heads one by one as they passed.
These had to be the Dracken, Trin determined. The real ones who had come back from the future with Caleb.
“Welcome,” the man said, his voice warm and rich, a blinding smile spreading across his clean-shaven face. He reached out, pumping Caleb’s hand vigorously while the woman opened her arms, enveloping Trin into another hug. These Dracken people certainly were touchy-feely. She shot a furtive glance at Caleb and realized he was smiling broadly.
“Trinity, I’d like you to meet Darius and Mara,” he said. “Darius is Master of the Dracken and Mara is our Chief Birthing Maiden.”
“Um, hi,” she managed to spit out, not sure the proper Miss Manners etiquette for greeting visitors from the future. “Nice to meet you.” She realized her hands were shaking and shoved them behind her back.
Thankfully the Dracken didn’t seem to notice. Darius turned to Caleb. “You have done well,” he told him. “Even with the extenuating circumstances. I am very pleased.” He gave him an approving smile and Caleb beamed back happily. From the way he was acting, Trin got the feeling the Dracken leader must be some kind of father figure to him.
“And you, my sweet girl,” Mara said to Trinity, her voice light and musical. “Welcome to our humble headquarters. I know this must all seem very strange to you, but we hope you will find a way to make yourself at home here. You are our honored guest. Our Fire Kissed. And we are here to meet your every desire. Anything you need, you must only ask.”
“Can I go home?” Trinity blurted, not missing a beat. She could hear the other Potentials snicker until Darius shot them a look. “Sorry,” she muttered. “But you did say anything.”
Mara gave her an apologetic smile. “You’re right. I did. And if only we could honor your request. It would be my greatest pleasure to allow you to return home. But I fear it’s not safe for you there, and your safety is of utmost importance to us.”
Trin frowned. Of course they’d play the safety card. And, she had to admit, it was a tough one to argue with. “I’m sure I’d be okay,” she tried. “If I could only—”
“I don’t think you understand,” Mara interrupted in a kind but firm voice. “Your government has labeled you a terrorist, dealing in what they consider biological weapons of mass destruction. If they capture you, they will hold you without trial for as long as they wish. Torture you even. Are you prepared to face something like that?”
Trin stared at her, heart pounding in her chest. Terrorist? Sure she’d broken some laws. But terrorists were Osama Bin Laden, the Taliban, not teenage girls from West Texas who only advocated violence when it came to zombie-blasting video games.
“Not to mention the Hunter is still at large,” Darius added. “If he tracks you down—and I have no doubt he would if we allowed you to leave—he will kill you in order to slay the dragon. And we cannot, under any circumstances, allow that to happen. After all, this little dragon holds the future of the world in her hands. And so, through her, do you.”
Trin swallowed hard, looking around the room. And here she thought Caleb was intense. What had she gotten herself into? She tried to force her pulse to steady, to order her thoughts. Okay, fine. They wouldn’t let her go. It wasn’t a big surprise, really, she tried to tell herself. But there was one thing she could ask for. Something they might still agree to.
“If I can’t go home to my grandpa,” she said, after gathering her nerve, “then can you bring him back here to me? He’s the only family I have and I won’t be able to settle in until I know he’s okay.”
Darius looked at Mara. She nodded. “Now that’s something we can arrange,” she said.
Trin’s shoulders slumped in relief. “Thank you. That would be great. Really.”
“We’ll put our best men on it,” Darius assured her, laying a hand on her arm. “They’ll find him and bring him back here and he can live as our honored guest just like you. If we’re quick, perhaps he’ll even be able to arrive in time to witness the dragon’s birth.”
Trinity nodded enthusiastically, loving the idea of her grandpa getting to see Emmy hatch. After all, he was the one who had brought the egg into their lives in the first place. Without him, none of this would be happening.
“Thank you,” she said sincerely. “I can’t tell you how much that means to me.”
“Not half as much as you mean to us,” the Dracken returned grandly. He turned to Rashida, who was still hovering at the front of the crowd. “Now, would you mind, Sister, taking our guest to her chambers? She must be exhausted from her trip.” He turned back to Trin. “We have prepared everything for your arrival—rooms, clothing. Even now your handmaiden is drawing you a hot bath.”
Trinity raised her eyebrows. She had to admit, a bathtub sounded good in and of itself after their days on the dusty road. But a freaking handmaiden to boot?
Emmy, we’re not in West Texas anymore.
But where am I? she wondered as she followed Rashida down the darkened hall, the creepy feeling returning with a vengeance the further they went. And what do they want from me, now that I’m here?
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Hey! Fire Kissed! Over here!”
Rashida waved wildly across the food court, attempting to get Trinity’s attention. Trin waved back awkwardly, then headed over. She could feel the stares of the other Potentials as she wove through the tables and tried to acknowledge each of them as she passed, not wanting people to think she was a snob. At school, Trin always tried to avoid being the center of attention, but she realized there was no helping that here.
“This place is like a maze,” she remarked as she slid into her seat. “I got lost three times trying to get here from my room.”
“That’s because you were given a crap tour guide,” the tall, blond boy across from her quipped, playfully poking Rashida, the tour guide in question. She poked him back twice as hard.
“As if you don’t still get lost going to the bathroom,” she retorted, “and you’ve been here half a year.”
“This was the biggest mall in Nevada before they shut it down.” The petite Asian girl on Rashida’s left looked up from the journal she’d been scribbling in. Some kind of poetry, Trin noticed. Or maybe song lyrics? “But I found the original blueprints if you ever want to learn your way around.”
“If you ever want to be a complete nerd,” the boy shot back, but he was smiling at her.
“This is Aiko,” Rashida introduced, ignoring him. “Our very own rock star, straight from Japan. She may look like a tiny little thing out of an anime film, but don’t let her fool you. The girl’s got mad pipes.” Aiko blushed prettily, closing her notebook and reaching out to shake Trin’s hand. Her fingers were dainty but calloused on the tips, assumedly well acquainted with guitar strings.
“And this is Malia,” Rashida continued, gesturing to a broad-shouldered, dark-skinned girl across from Trinity. “She’s from Kenya and serves as our resident gamer girl. Many of the boys have tried to take her down,” she added with dramatic flair. “But the girl somehow manages to frag them all.”
Trinity raised an eyebrow. “You have video games here?” she asked, her heart beating a little faster.
“Of course,” Malia replied shyly. “The Dracken turned the old Apple store into a game room. We have every system and all the best games. A few of us meet up on Friday nights to play. You should join us sometime. We could use more girls on the team.”
“Do you have Fields of Fantasy?” Trin dared to ask, her breath caught in her throat. “The new expansion pack?” Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to be stuck here after all.
Sadly, Malia shook her head. “Sorry, nothing that requires a Wi-Fi connection,” she told her. “We can play on a closed LAN line with one another, but Darius has strict rules about going online.”
“Which means no satellite TV to watch the matches,” the blond boy added gloomily. “I don’t suppose you know who won the Rugby World Cup this time around? It’s been bloody killing me.”
Trinity shook her head. “Sorry,” she said. The boy sighed loudly, dropping his head onto the table with over-exaggerated despair.
Rashida rolled her eyes. “And last but not least, this is Trevor,” she introduced with an impish smile. “As you can probably tell, he’s from Australia and like most Aussies will never let you forget it.”
“It’s a bloody great country,” he declared, breaking out into what Trin assumed to be some kind of national anthem in a loud, booming, and terribly out-of-tune voice. The girls groaned and threw their napkins at him, which only made him sing louder.
Trin shook her head, watching their antics, surprised at how normal the whole scene felt, as if they weren’t in the middle of an abandoned shopping mall, but rather some kind of European boarding school or something. It was hard to believe, just by looking at them, that these kids weren’t studying for their SATs. They were training to take care of dragons.
“So where do we get the food?” she asked, gesturing to her tablemates’ heaping trays.
Rashida waved an arm around the food court. “Each of the stations has food from a different continent,” she told her, “to make sure all of us get to eat what we’re used to. Well, not all of us,” she added, glancing teasingly at Trevor. “The Dracken come from a long line of animal rights activists, which means no shrimp on the barbie for poor Trevor here.”
“I could skip the shrimp,” the blond boy protested, “if only I could score a nice, juicy T-bone once in a while.” He stabbed a piece of tofu with his fork and stuffed it into his mouth with a miserable look. The girls giggled.
“So how long have you guys been living in this place?” Trin asked curiously. They all seemed so at home here, so comfortable with one another. And their English was impeccable. She could barely detect any accents.
“Malia was one of the first to come here. You’ve been here almost two years, right?” Aiko asked the girl across from Trin, who nodded in agreement. “I’ve been here just over a year myself.”
“I’ve been here a year and a half,” Rashida offered. “Trevor’s the baby of the group. He only arrived six months ago.”
“And yet I’m already beating you in your lessons,” Trevor shot back. Rashida patted him on the back patronizingly.
“Sure you are,” she said.
“Wow,” Trin marveled, looking them over. “That’s a long time to be gone. Do you get, like, spring break or summer vacation to go visit your families?”
The four Potentials exchanged looks. “We don’t have families,” Malia replied quietly.
“What?” Trinity asked, completely thrown by the answer.
“We’re all orphans,” Aiko explained.
“All of you?” Trinity glanced around the bustling food court. There had to be a hundred Potentials eating lunch here alone. Did none of them have parents? Family? People back home?
“My parents died in the tsunami,” Aiko said matter-of-factly. “My entire village was wiped out. I had no family left, no place to go.”<
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“I was living on the streets of a Mumbai slum,” Rashida added. “I’d spend my entire day just trying to find a place to sleep where I wouldn’t be attacked or robbed.”
“My mother died of AIDS when I was young,” Malia said quietly. “My aunt took me in until the drought hit. Then she had to make a choice—her own children or me.”
“What about you, Trin? What happened to your parents?” Trevor asked pointedly. “If you’re here, you must be an orphan too.” They all turned to look at her. She felt her face heat and she stared down at her hands.
“She doesn’t have to say if she doesn’t want to,” Rashida scolded him. “It’s not any of our business.” She gave her a kind look. But Trin knew they were expecting her to say something. After all, they’d all shared their stories with her—stories that must hurt to talk about just as much.
“I…I never knew my father,” she said at last. “He died before I was born. My mother…well, I guess she was one of us. She had the gift too. But the voices got too loud…” Her own voice cracked on the words and she found she couldn’t continue. In any case, what could she say? That her mom preferred to blow her own head off than spend Christmas Eve with her only child?
The girls looked at one another. Then, without saying a word, they reached out, grabbing Trin’s hands in their own and squeezing them tight. She watched, puzzled, as they closed their eyes in unison and bowed their heads. For a moment she was convinced they were about to break out into prayer. Or at least a rousing round of “Kumbaya.” But no words came from their lips. Instead, suddenly Trin felt an overwhelming sense of comfort pass through her. As if she were being wrapped up in a warm, billowy blanket and hugged tightly.
They’re using their gifts, she realized, fascinated. Trying to send her comfort. And it was working too. She could actually feel the anger and pain slipping away. Which was cool, she tried to tell herself. But also massively weird—not to mention invasive. Like, what if she wanted to keep that pain? Hold on to that anger? What if it was a part of her she wasn’t ready to let go of yet? They hadn’t even asked permission. Just dove inside her mind and—
