by Mari Mancusi
She yanked her hands away.
The girls opened their eyes, gazing at her with pity. She averted her own eyes, staring down at the table in front of her, trying to still her erratic pulse. They’re only trying to be nice, she tried to tell herself. They aren’t trying to hurt me.
“In any case, that’s when the Dracken came,” Aiko continued, breaking the awkward silence. “They found us and rescued us and brought us back here, where we no longer have to worry about anything. Food, shelter, school—it’s all provided by the Dracken.” She stared off into the distance, a dreamy look on her face. “We owe them our lives.”
“We’re a family,” Rashida declared. “And now you’re our family too.”
They fell silent, as if waiting for her response. She bit her lower lip. She knew what they wanted her to say. The foster families had always wanted the same thing—for her to be thrilled to be a part of it all, for her to consider herself one of them. But try as she might, the words stuck in her throat, just like they had a dozen times before.
I’m not like you, she wanted to scream. I don’t belong here.
And this time it was especially true. After all, these kids had come here willingly, following the pied piper of dragons and his promises of a better life. They’d given up their freedom, their free will—and evidently the chance to wear something other than navy blue sweat pants. And yet they all seemed so happy, perfectly content to live out their lives in this creepy mall without Internet access or TV.
Content? something inside of her nagged, or brainwashed?
Either way, now she was stuck here right alongside them, she realized, as the panic rose inside of her once again. Whether she liked it or not.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Two hours later—or was it three?—Trinity paced the soft-carpeted floor of the most luxurious chamber she’d ever seen, located in a space that had once held a Baby Gap. Draped in lush crimsons and accented in gold, the room had all the luxuries Trinity could have ever imagined and then some, all done up in her favorite colors and styles.
It was almost as if someone had gone into her head and plucked all her secret fantasies from her brain and made them real. From the king-sized canopy bed wrapped in sheer silk curtains to the stylish sitting room with plush upholstery and a glittering chandelier. There was even a gigantic marble bathroom, complete with steam shower and whirlpool tub—and one of those fancy Japanese toilets with all the extra buttons that Trin had always been curious to try.
The other recruits—the Potentials—all lived in dorms, she’d been told, located in the former Sears at the other end of the mall. The boys on the second floor, the girls on the first. But the girl who had founded their organization—the Fire Kissed herself!—was too special to be subjected to those humble accommodations. She deserved only the best.
And only the best it was. The best prison cell ever.
It was the silence that was the worst. When she’d gotten back to her room after lunch, she’d tried to reach Emmy, to restore the connection between them. She’d gotten so used to the dragon babbling and chirping in her head over the last few days, the sudden absence felt deafening. Where had they taken her? Was she okay? She wondered if she’d made a mistake allowing them to make off with the egg in the first place. But Caleb had assured her they would take good care of the dragon. That was the whole reason they’d come back in time to begin with, after all. But still, Trinity couldn’t help but wonder.
A knock sounded on the door. She turned to it reluctantly. “Who’s there?” she asked.
“Caleb.”
Her heart started. Where had he been? She hadn’t seen him since they’d first arrived and she realized, annoyingly, that she’d kind of missed him. Which was stupid, she knew, to miss someone who’d basically kidnapped you and held you against your will. What did they call it? Stockholm syndrome? Ugh. What a total cliché. Just because he’d been kind to her, helped her shut out the voices in her head, held her hand as she cried for Emmy. Big freaking deal. At the end of the day, he was still sardonic and cynical and kind of a douche. Nothing like his brave, heroic brother, Connor, who had honor and dignity and…
…wants you dead, a voice inside jabbed.
She sighed, stalking to the door and ripping it open. “Where have you been?” she demanded, her voice sounding angrier than she’d meant it to.
“Nice to see you too, princess,” he replied coolly as he stepped into the room. He had changed from his dusty road clothes and was now wearing a plain white T-shirt and slouchy jeans. His hair was still damp, slicked back from his face, and he smelled of Irish Spring soap. She cleared her throat, pretending not to be affected, as she stole a glance at herself in the mirror, wishing she’d taken the time to comb out her curls after her bath, then scolded herself for caring.
She realized he’d come bearing gifts—namely a cart of covered silver platters, linen napkins, fine tableware, and a carafe of what appeared to be coffee and another of soda. Prison room service? She would have laughed if she weren’t so pissed.
“I’m not hungry,” she declared, forcing her eyes away from the cart.
Caleb didn’t reply. Instead, he busied himself with the covers, removing them one by one. Heaping bowls of pasta, steaming platters of rice, pizzas dripping with cheese—it went on and on, the rich, savory smells torturing Trinity until her stomach betrayed her with a feral growl. After her uneasy conversation with the Potentials, she’d been too freaked out to eat and now she was absolutely ravenous. But still. She scowled and turned away, plopping down on her bed, arms crossed over her chest. She would not be bought by something as simple as a mall-cooked meal.
“I don’t want it,” she repeated. “Take it away.”
But Caleb only continued his reveal—mountains of mashed potatoes, buttery rolls fresh from the oven, glistening vegetables, and sugary desserts. Every single dish one of her favorites.
“Are you sure about that?” he asked, giving her a skeptical look. “After all, everything’s been prepared exactly the way you like it according to our records.”
She frowned. According to their records. In other words, the time travelers had studied her life like it was some kind of history project—just like with the bedroom—thinking they could win her over by plying her with her favorite things. It should have felt good, for them to have given so much thought, taken so much care. But instead it felt invasive, an unfair advantage.
“Come on, Trin,” Caleb cajoled. “It’s just food. It’s not like I looked up your bra size.” He gave her a winning smile. She scowled back.
“What, do you want a medal for that?”
“Hey, I think I exhibited tremendous restraint!” He joined her over on the bed, dropping his impish grin and giving her a serious look. “Okay, what’s wrong?” he asked. “I thought you’d be pleased. The Dracken went through a lot of trouble to design all of this for you. We did extensive research into what makes you happy. So why aren’t you happy?”
He made it sound so simple, like a math problem or something. They gave her what she wanted; she’d do what they wanted. But it didn’t work like that.
“How can I be happy?” she demanded, turning to him and meeting his eyes with her own. She realized her hands were shaking and shoved them under her thighs. “I’ve lost everything I ever had. My only family is MIA and I’m trapped in a freaking shopping mall with the children of the corn. Trust me, no amount of pineapple and feta cheese pizza is going to make this any better.”
“Even if it came from Deluca’s?”
She involuntarily glanced over at the pizza sitting on the tray. “Did it come from Deluca’s?”
“Sadly, no.” Caleb shrugged. “I was just curious if it would have made a difference.”
She groaned, grabbing a pillow and shoving it into his face. “You’re so not helping.”
“Oh really?” He tapped the side of his head, his eyebrows quirking. “Mind reader, remember? I know for a fact that I’m helping. Helping a lot, a
ctually. You don’t want to admit it, I know. But that doesn’t make it untrue.”
Her face flushed. Rising to her feet, she stalked over to the other side of the room. “That’s so unfair,” she growled.
He laughed. “I know, I know. I’m sorry.” He pranced over and grabbed her hands in his. “But you’ve got to try to relax, princess. You’re going to drive yourself to an early grave. Which, I might selfishly mention, would be catastrophic for the rest of us sorry humans. After all, you’re—”
“The Fire Kissed,” she finished for him in her best over-the-top fantasy-film voice. “The one who will save our world.” She yanked her hands away. “Seriously, if you start telling me there’s one ring to rule them all or that the force will be with me always, I’m going to smack you upside the head.”
“Please,” he scoffed. “You don’t need the force or some silly ring—not when you have a dragon by your side.”
She groaned loudly, pressing a hand to the wall and leaning against it. “I’m going insane. That’s the only explanation for any of this. I’m going insane and the men in white coats will be showing up at any moment to tell me this has all been a psychotic delusion. They’ll take me away and lock me up, and I’ll be free to drool in the corner of my padded cell for the rest of my life without a care in the world.”
“But then you’d never see me again,” Caleb reminded her with a wink.
“Really? Can I get that in writing?”
He gave her a mock offended look, then grabbed her arm, dragging her back over to the bed. He sat her down, taking her hands in his own. She tried not to notice the way her skin warmed under his touch—or the shivers that tripped up her spine as his eyes turned serious.
“Look, I get it, okay?” he said. “I understand how hard it must be for you to be here. And the Dracken can come off as pretty radical—”
“Radical?” Trinity repeated. “Come on, Caleb. If you looked up ‘evil cult out to destroy the world’ in the dictionary, you’d find these guys’ pictures.”
He shook his head vehemently. “You’re getting the wrong idea. I’m telling you. Darius and Mara and the rest of them aren’t like that at all. They’re good people. They believe in what they’re fighting for. They’re trying to save the world. And you’re so important to that mission. Everything they’ve worked for their whole lives rests on you—and their ability to keep you safe. Imagine yourself in their shoes. You’d want to keep you under lock and key too, wouldn’t you?”
Trinity bit her lower lip, hating the fact he was making so much sense. She turned to face the wall, feeling his stare burning at her back but refusing to meet his eyes. For a moment he was silent. Then he spoke.
“I was homeless,” he stated flatly, “living on the streets of Strata-D, probably only a few demerits away from a lifetime in the mines. Everyone had dismissed me, the no-good shadow of my hero brother.” He sighed, remembering. “But then Darius came. He plucked me from the streets and offered me hope. Recognized my gift and gave me a job. He told me I could be great if only someone would give me a chance.” His voice cracked. “And then he gave me that chance. So here I am, working every day to prove he wasn’t wrong about me.”
His words were so earnest, so proud. But Trinity could hear the doubt threaded just below the surface. As if he himself wondered if he was worthy of the chance he’d been given.
“He can save you too, Trin,” Caleb said softly. “If only you’ll let him.”
A silence fell over the room as she struggled for a clever reply. But her mind had gone completely blank. The silence stretched, awkward and long. Finally, Caleb let out a long, deep sigh.
“Look,” he said, “do you want to get out of here for a bit?”
She turned, her eyes widening. “Can we?”
“Well, not like you’re probably thinking,” he admitted. “I mean, your physical body has to stay here in the mall. Darius would kill me if I put you at risk. But we could go to the Nether.”
“The Nether?” she repeated doubtfully. “You mean the place with the dragons?”
Caleb nodded. “It’s a place beyond time and space,” he replied, “ruled by the collective unconsciousness of dragons. Before they’re born and after they die, they exist here, in this Nether space. Those with the gift have the ability to travel there, channeling our energies through special gems.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out two glittering rubies, and grinned. “It’s like this big, amazing playground—and it can become anything you make of it.”
“Will Emmy be there?” she asked, intrigued despite herself.
“Absolutely. And my dragon too.”
“You have your own dragon?” The thought had never occurred to her. But she supposed it made sense. “Is it an evil mutant one out to destroy the world?”
Caleb laughed and shook his head. “Sorry to disappoint, but we don’t clone mutants anymore. Our technology is a bit more advanced than yours. My dragon was made from a pure strand of DNA from one of Emmy’s true children. Darius gifted her to me after I passed my Guardian trials. Wait until you see her, Trin. She’s so beautiful—sparkling teal scales, huge golden eyes, a wingspan that could block out the sun.” He smiled dreamily. “First time I laid eyes on her, I fell in love.”
“Cool. What’s her name?”
His smile faltered. “Um…what?”
“Her name?” Trinity repeated. “Your dragon, I mean. Does she have a name?” She glanced over at Caleb curiously, surprised to see he’d gone bright red.
“Oh. Um, yeah. Sure she does. Her name is…Fred.”
Trinity burst out laughing. “Fred?” she repeated incredulously. “Your beautiful, majestic, not to mention female dragon is named Fred?”
“Hey! You’re the one who called your dragon Emmy,” Caleb protested, his face now a peculiar shade of purple. “That’s not exactly High Goth’Or the Great and Terrible either!”
“Okay, okay!” She held up her hands in innocence. “Fred it is. Fred the dragon.” A snort escaped her, despite her best efforts.
“Are you going to laugh at my poor dragon all day or would you actually like to meet her?”
She forced herself to sober. “Explain how this works again?”
“The how is irrelevant,” he assured her. “I mean, you don’t need to know how one of your cars works in order to drive it, right?” He reached out, taking her hands in his, pressing the ruby gems between their palms. “All you have to do is enjoy the ride.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The thunder came first. Then a sharp wind, scraping her face and stealing her breath. Her eyes flew open, a screech of surprise tumbling from her lips, as the world shot back into focus.
She was flying—or riding at least—on the back of a mighty dragon.
“Oh my God!” she cried, throwing herself against the creature’s back, terror surging through her. Her arms flailed, seeking handholds around the dragon’s thick neck as her thighs squeezed its midsection, desperate to hang on.
Please don’t let me fall. Please don’t let me fall.
She dared, for a split second, to look down, and her stomach rolled as the earth seemed to weave dizzyingly in and out of focus miles below her.
Please don’t let me fall. Please don’t—
You okay?
She opened her eyes in surprise at the voice. In her initial panic of waking up on the back of a dragon, she’d all but forgotten she’d come to this nightmare of her own free will. With Caleb holding her hand. He pulled up alongside her, astride his own dragon, flashing a cocky grin. He was wearing black leather pants that molded to his thighs and a black T-shirt that couldn’t disguise his strong, flat abs. He looked confident and happy and, well, pretty damn hot, she had to admit, despite herself. Something about a guy on a dragon… And the dragon herself, Fred, was as beautiful and majestic as he’d promised, despite her silly name. Her massive wings steadily beat the air currents into submission—leather cracking, membranes stretching—as an elegant tail flapped
lazily behind her, serving as rudder.
Caleb lifted a hand, offering a casual salute, a teasing smile playing at his lips. Trin gritted her teeth, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her frightened. Instead, she forced herself to straighten and her shoulders to drop, as if she were on some casual bike ride—no big deal.
We couldn’t have started this out on the ground? she sent, realizing it was the only way to communicate over the thunderous flapping of dragons’ wings.
He shrugged playfully. Why waste time walking when we can fly?
Gee, I don’t know. So I could learn to steer?
She couldn’t hear his laugh but she could see the amusement dance across his face and it made her hackles rise. So this was a big joke to him? He thought it was funny? What if she fell? What if she careened to her death? If you died here, in this Nether place, did you die in real life? She remembered her real-life burn from the last time she’d visited and shuddered.
Just tell Emmy where you want to go. She’ll get you there.
Emmy? Trinity’s gaze shot down to the dragon beneath her, eyes widening in realization. This was Emmy? But she was so big! And besides her green scales, she looked so different than the dragon she’d met dying in her cage. This dragon wasn’t sad and defeated and wounded—she was gorgeous, alive—with emerald scales that snared the very sun and reflected the rays back tenfold.
In the Nether I can be anything I want to be, look any way I want to look, Emmy broke in, her voice unmistakable. The beast turned her giant head, acknowledging Trin with a quick nod. It was then that she recognized the dragon’s eyes. Such pretty eyes—all blues and golds swimming together in the depths of the deepest sea. And so can you.
Can I be someone who isn’t afraid of heights? Trin winced as she accidentally looked down again. Maybe if she just stared straight ahead, the nausea would go away.
Emmy’s laugh was rich and affectionate.
