“You are unfamiliar with the dangers of this land,” Maiara added. “You will not get far on your own.”
Few stood their ground against Gabriel, but despite her diminutive stature, she faced his brother with the unflinching and cool stance of a warrior. Tension thrummed in the air between them. She’d thrown down an ultimatum. Alexander was stupefied when Gabriel seemed to consider it. He bowed his head and paced the length of the stall, twice.
When he looked at them again, he seemed to have come to a decision, one that didn’t feel comfortable in his skin if the dark flush on his cheeks was anything to go by. “We go to New York. Then we go west.”
Maiara tipped her head. “As you wish.”
Stepping around her, Gabriel strode toward the exit and the Owl’s Roost.
Once his brother was well out of earshot, Alexander huffed out a breath, amazed by her courage. “That was incredible.”
“Why do you allow him to treat you that way?” she asked, her gaze finding his. Her words held no judgment, only curiosity, but they cut him to the quick.
“I don’t—” His ears grew hot. He didn’t need to explain himself to her. Through a clenched jaw, he said, “If you’ll excuse me.” He bowed at the waist in lieu of goodbye and followed his brother’s footsteps back to the inn.
Chapter Ten
Traveling from the Port of Philadelphia to the colony of New York on horseback was expected to take four days and required a ferry to cross the Delaware River. However, Maiara assured them that the King’s Highway and Post Road they would follow would be well appointed with inns along the way. She anticipated no hardship finding places at regular intervals to rest their horses, replenish their supplies, or spend the night.
Alexander hoped these inns would be more receptive to their native guide than the Owl’s Roost, although he seriously doubted it. He suspected Maiara faced prejudices everywhere she went. He’d save her from the ignorant fools if he could.
“I like this Maiara.” Rowan adjusted herself in the saddle. She’d been beaming from the moment Gabriel had announced he would take her to New York. She rode beside Alexander on a mild-mannered Appaloosa while Gabriel and Tobias rode ahead, the packhorse between them. Gabriel followed directly behind Maiara, his clenched jaw indicating his displeasure to not be in the lead.
“Me too.”
Rowan sent him a crooked smile. He recognized the mischievous twinkle in her eye immediately and braced himself for trouble. “You fancy her.”
He scoffed.
“You do! She makes your dragon shiver, doesn’t she? Tell the truth, brother.”
“Hold your tongue.”
“Are you afraid? There are no rules against it here. No royal decrees against princes and commoners to abide under. We are free to choose. And it’s not like she’s a witch or something. The law says nothing about humans.”
He licked his lips. Was she human? He wasn’t entirely sure. “It’s folly. Soon we will all go our separate ways. What type of dragon would I be to pursue her when I have no intention of revealing our secret? How can there exist a relationship between two beings when one can never know who the other really is?”
Rowan frowned. “I suppose you speak the truth, although I find it quite sad to think the lot of us are doomed to a long and lonely life on this infernal planet.” When Alexander didn’t respond, she nudged her horse into a jog and engaged Tobias in some unheard conversation.
They’d made good use of the short daylight hours, stopping only for necessary breaks and to partake in the cheese, dried fruit, and bread they’d packed from the Owl’s Roost. Twilight descended upon the road and in a blink gave way to the dark of night. Weighed down by the cold, they were all relieved to come upon a small inn called the Green Gate.
Each of them made haste to dismount and lead their horses to the stables, anxious to take part in the warmth of the hearth and a fair meal. But before Alexander could follow his siblings inside, Maiara tugged his arm.
“I am sorry, Alexander, if I offended you with my words about your brother.”
He frowned. “I am not offended. You simply do not understand the ways of my family.”
Her face fell. “This is your way?”
Was it? Alexander didn’t know. It certainly was the Paragonian way for the eldest living heir of Paragon to rule the kingdom. But in the New World there were no such rules. The truth was he had been afraid to face his brother, and her question about why he tolerated Gabriel’s authoritarian manner was warranted. It simply wasn’t something he was ready to bring into the light of day. He wasn’t sure he could explain the comfort in letting Gabriel lead. A very small part of him wondered who exactly he would become now that he was no longer a prince of Paragon. Gabriel’s presence, however overbearing, gave him the luxury of not having to think about it… yet.
Which reminded him, he’d never asked her about that night he’d seen her vanish. He turned the tables and answered her question with his own. “What is your way, Maiara? I saw you that first night at the Owl’s Roost. I followed you into the forest and saw you… near a tree.” He looked behind him and lowered his voice. “You disappeared.”
“It is rude to follow someone.”
“Yes. I am sorry about that. But I need to know… I think we could come to understand each other if we were honest—”
“I am Maiara, half Potawatomi from my mother and half English from my father. I was a healer for my people once, and now I am your hired guide. Nothing more.” Her jaw was tight as she spoke.
“You were a healer? I thought you said you were a trapper.” He was growing frustrated trying to figure out the enigmatic woman.
“My mother was a healer, my father was a trapper. I have been both.”
“Where is your family now?”
“Dead.” Her teeth clenched and she looked away from him.
A weight settled over Alexander’s heart, and he felt like a brute interrogating her as he was. He lowered his voice. “I… lost my parents as well, and my eldest brother. They were murdered for political reasons. That is why we left our homeland and came here.”
That seemed to surprise her, and she returned her gaze to his face. “I am sorry.”
They stood with each other as grief snaked around them. He inched toward her and placed a comforting hand on her elbow. “I should join the others. Will you dine with us?”
“I may not be welcome here.” She frowned.
“You are welcome. I just welcomed you. And if anyone takes issue with that, they shall take it up with me.” He lowered himself to her height. “Please.”
“Yes. I will eat with you.” She whispered to her hawk, and the bird flew into the rafters of the stable.
He took a step in the direction of the inn but stopped short when he realized she’d never actually answered his question. “Maiara, that night in the woods…”
“Yes?”
“I saw you… vanish.”
She shook her head. “People don’t vanish.”
“But I did see you in the woods.”
Her face became an impassive mask. No secrets would be forthcoming. “My people sleep in the trees.” She pointed up.
“In the trees. You mean in the branches. You were in the branches?”
She answered only with a soft smile before leading the way inside.
Maiara’s reception was no better at the Green Gate than at the Owl’s Roost. She was met with murmurs of “savage” and worse. And although they served her the same supper as the rest of them, she was not allowed any ale.
“We abide by the law here,” the barmaid said. “No Africans or Indians may be served ale or whiskey, and don’t even try takin’ her upstairs.”
Alexander promptly ordered two pints and gave her one as soon as he was served. Although Maiara seemed to appreciate his generosity and ate and drank her fill, Alexander felt tension in the silent way she held her space. It was as if she wasn’t there at all. And although he tried to engage her in conversation, he
r curt responses kept their exchanges short.
Tobias entertained them with the story of how they’d survived an attack by a band of pirates on their way to the New World, and Gabriel followed it up with his own tale of winning at dice in the south of France. Neither triggered a smile from her, although the patrons within earshot were overtaken with boisterous laughter. It saddened Alexander that she showed so little joy, and he wondered if it was their surroundings or something else that bothered her.
Whatever it was, when each of them made to retire for the night, she headed for the door.
“Where are you going?” He followed her to where the shadows gathered far from the hearth and the flickering candles.
“To make camp.” Her chin was high, and nothing about her expression suggested she was fearful or disappointed to be heading into the cold night.
Alexander wouldn’t have it. “It’s too cold to sleep in tree branches. I can get you a room.”
“It’s not allowed.”
He reached for her, his hand landing gently against her cheek where the tips of his fingers brushed the sleek edge of her silky hair. Their eyes locked, and the same electric charge built between them as the first time he’d seen her.
It was like being underwater, pushed toward her by an opposing current that promised their eventual collision. It left him semibreathless and sure that at some point, the force would topple them over a waterfall or draw them into a whirlpool. After all, his head was already spinning.
“You could stay with me,” he said softly, then clarified, “I have a suite.”
Her ebony eyes warmed, and she gave him a hint of a smile. For a split second he was sure she’d say yes, that the feeling was mutual and as undeniable as a force of nature. Yet she peeled his hand from her cheek and said, “Rest well, Alexander. We have a long journey ahead.”
She bowed her head slightly and slipped out the door into the night. After a moment’s hesitation, he tried to follow her, but she was already gone, another shadow in the inky darkness. Even her hawk had disappeared from its roost in the stables.
This pattern repeated itself the next two nights. Once, he found her things beside a tree, although he never found her in that tree’s branches. The next night, he found nothing at all, not a single footstep to mark where she’d gone. Until the third night a vicious storm moved in. The temperature dropped and the wind roared as if winter was a scorned goddess who wanted her revenge.
That was the night of the attack.
They’d finished supper at an inn called the Lion’s Head. Alexander and Maiara were alone at a table near the hearth, Gabriel, Tobias, and Rowan having already retired to their rooms, when a man’s guttural scream cut through the building’s warm interior. Alexander, along with several other patrons, rushed outside to find a British soldier staggering toward them. From the back of his red coat, an arrow protruded, not deep by the looks of it but having the effect of straining the man’s breathing. He collapsed face-first in the snow. Above them, Maiara’s hawk screeched and circled, the ominous sound sending a foreboding shudder down his spine.
“Help me remove it.” Maiara knelt at the soldier’s side and pressed her fingers along his back, feeling the bones.
“It is between his ribs. We must pull it out.” She gripped the arrow with both hands but recoiled when her gaze fell on the fletching. To Alexander, the arrow seemed ordinary enough, except that bloody fingerprints stained the white feathers. Decorated for death.
“What’s wrong?”
“Help me.”
He winced, knowing the barb would tear the man’s flesh, but squatted beside her and wrapped his hands around hers. “One, two, three.” Together, they yanked the arrow from the stranger’s back. Blood gurgled from the wound.
Maiara dug under her cloak and brought forth an otter skin pouch. After untying it, she removed an amulet—a white shell of a type Alexander had never seen. Its lustrous exterior reflected the silvery moonlight with colors that seemed to dance across its surface. She rolled the soldier over, opened the collar of his shirt, and placed the shell in the hollow of his throat.
“What is that?” Alexander asked.
“To heal him,” Maiara said.
Before Alexander could register the authenticity of Maiara’s amulet, the mouth of a musket appeared before him, pointed at Maiara. “What you doing there, injin?” The ruddy-faced owner of the Lion’s Head scowled behind the gun’s barrel. The hostility twisting his features made it easy to read his thoughts. The arrow was from a native weapon. He believed she was responsible for the attack.
Enraged on her behalf, Alexander shoved the barrel of the musket aside. “Sir, lower your weapon. She’s providing assistance to this man.”
The soldier began to cough, sucking in deep lungfuls of air. Maiara removed the shell from his chest and returned it to her bag. Alexander raised an eyebrow as the man’s breathing evened out and his pale features pinked to the picture of health. Awestruck, he helped the soldier into a seated position but was appalled when instead of offering his appreciation for Maiara’s efforts, the man turned accusatory eyes on her.
“You,” he said through his teeth. “She’s a savage, I tell you!” He glanced around the circle of onlookers and pointed at her. “I watched a man of her kind strip the flesh from my horse with his bare hands!”
Horrified gasps greeted his words.
Alexander protested to the contrary and stated Maiara had, in fact, saved his ungrateful life. The crowd barked their skepticism; they hadn’t seen what he had. The argument heated to the point of his distraction, and Alexander didn’t notice Maiara slip away. But once the skirmish broke and the soldier sauntered inside, he looked for her in the crowd. She was gone.
Blending into the night, he made himself invisible and took a deep breath. He could smell her on the wind. The snow fell thick and heavy, increasing until he struggled to see an arm’s length ahead. If he weren’t a dragon, he would have lost her in the storm. But her scent was unmistakable to him now. Plus his speed and agility far outpaced the mortal’s. In minutes, he’d closed the distance between them.
Into the thick of trees he followed her, deep into the woods until she found another tree like the one in Philadelphia but with a narrower trunk. He watched in abject horror as she began to remove her clothing.
Dragons could feel the cold, but it wasn’t dangerous to them. They were born of flame, and fire blazed within them. Humans did feel it, he knew, and he’d seen the way the tavern workers had huddled against this storm as if their exposed skin ached from the stinging air.
The discomfort he felt on her behalf warred with the desire to watch her again as she lowered her deerskin tunic from her shoulders. Her hair flowed like spilled ink down her back where a shiver traveled the length of the silky skin over her spine. She planted her hands on the tree, but this time nothing happened. She removed her hands and then tried again. Nothing. She began to slap the bark frantically, the hawk in the branches above her shrieking into the wind.
In the distance, a roar cut through the storm and turned her head. Alexander had never heard such a sound, not in Paragon or in this world, and it made the hair on his neck stand on end.
“No. No.” Maiara’s words cut through the howling wind. Frantic, she searched the trees. What was she hoping to find?
Alexander didn’t know what to do as she trembled visibly, the snow gathering in her lashes and hair. That was until her sobs reached him. She bent down and tried to dress, but her fingers were stiff and she fumbled with the skins and pelts. The roar came again, closer. The sight of her tears solidifying on her cheeks drove him into action.
A protective nature was a dragon’s prerogative. To be blessed with strength, speed, flight, and immortality came with a certain responsibility, the same that made him stand up that first night in the Owl’s Roost. He could choose. He could rise above this world and its cruel expectations, and he could help her. He would help her.
He dropped his invisibility
and stepped forward, the snow bombarding his cheeks, his dark hair, his breeches and waistcoat. Her head turned and she panicked when she saw him, her eyes becoming wide, dark pools as her numb fingers worked hopelessly to gather her skins against her naked breast. The roar came again, closer still, and she shook violently at the sound.
Alexander’s wings punched from his coat, and in one mighty thrust, he closed the space between them. Her eyes met his and she collapsed. He caught her in his arms, his wings wrapping around her to protect her from the storm.
The weight of a stare raised his head. There was a man, an Indian, standing in the woods in the distance. Even with his dragon sight, he could hardly see him. The snow was too thick. But a strange blue light glowed from the indigenous man’s neck. The Indian raised his bow and notched an arrow.
Alexander blinked out of sight, cloaking Maiara in his invisibility and moving her behind the protection of the tree. Gathering her things, he carried her back to the Lion’s Head, swearing to protect her to the snow, the moon, and the hawk that followed him home.
Chapter Eleven
2018
Sedona, Arizona
“I’d forgotten that Maiara was the reason Gabriel let me go to New York.” Rowan drummed her fingers on the table. “What was she doing naked next to the tree again? The explanation of her sleeping in the branches makes no sense. She’d freeze to death. And what did she say after you revealed yourself to her? When you showed her your wings, you basically pulled the dragon out of the bag. What happened to swearing to keep our secret?” She returned to cleaning as she spoke, scrubbing the counter while waiting for Alexander to answer.
When the silence drew her attention back to him, he ran his hands through his wild mess of dark hair and said, “I love you, my sister.”
The Dragon of Sedona (The Treasure of Paragon Book 4) Page 7
