by Melody Rose
Those words made me pause. She could have been teasing me, I knew that, but something about her firm posture, the lift of her chin, and the squareness of her shoulders made me reassess her truthfulness. Jae believed what she was saying. An imposing confidence radiated from her.
“How close?” I tested the waters with my question, even though my gut told me it was futile.
Jae shook her head at me and crossed her arms behind the bars. “I guess you will never know.”
She was baiting me, that much was clear. Jae pressed the right buttons as she tested my discipline. The traitor had information I needed, that could help me or at least give me a leg up in this impending battle. All I had to do was reach out and touch her, and the answers could be all mine.
I had already broken my promise to Gideonia once, did I really want to do it again? Could I promise myself that this would be the last time I used this gift? Reason told me that it was worth helping the kingdom, especially if Jae had any kind of useful information. However, my heart battled with the decision as it was reluctant to betray one of my clan.
If I didn’t do this, if I didn’t compel Jae to tell me all she knew, then would I even have a clan? Would there be a kingdom to save? Something told me I was doing all of Andsdyer a disservice by not doing everything within my power to help them.
I reached out between the bars with a shaky hand. The decision flip-flopped in my mind even though my arm continued to extend, as if of its own accord. Jae, surprisingly, didn’t move away from me. She eyed my hand like a dish of Brussel sprouts, but she remained still.
My fingertips brushed her brittle arm. I wrapped my fingers around her wrist and clamped them together. When I held her skin, I might as well have clutched a handful of ice cubes, though it was I who shivered when we connected.
It took nothing more than a simple command. My voice sounded foreign to my own ears as it slithered out of me, a snake ready to corrupt another victim. All nervousness evaporated as I smoothed out my words and tainted them with Gideonia’s gift.
“You will answer all of my questions, and you will answer all of them truthfully,” I commanded.
Jae’s eyes glazed over with a peaceful, glassy look. Her harsh features softened, and the corner of her mouth lifted a little, a giddy smile.
“What is the status of the contamination?” I asked.
There hadn’t been an outbreak since the one at the court, and everyone was nervous. The citizens of Andsdyer waited for the other shoe to drop. I was just as nervous as they were, but according to all of the king’s guards, no one had heard anything. Even in the farthest reaches of the kingdom, all seemed to be healthy.
“It is on hold,” Jae replied. Her head tilted ever so slightly to the left.
“Why is it on hold?” I proceeded with the questioning.
“So Reon can create more of it,” Jae answered with a slight giggle. The sound rippled up my spine and made me shiver.
“Why does he need to make more of it?” I continued.
“To prepare for the Lunar Eclipse,” Jae said in a sing-song voice.
My grip tightened on her arm. “What’s going to happen during the Lunar Eclipse?”
“He will destroy the world with the contamination.” Jae’s voice rose in volume during this proclamation. Her words echoed around the dungeon as if twenty Jae’s surrounded me.
“When is the Lunar Eclipse?” I barked, unaware of my own volume.
“The next full moon,” Jae said with a drunk chuckle.
A surge of anger soared through my body. It started in my chest and rocketed down the arm attached to Jae. My fingers pressed against her skin so tightly that my thumb and forefinger were able to touch. Something about this sensation caused me to look down at my own hand wrapped around her arm.
I clutched it so tight that her hand began to turn purple. My grip cut off circulation. Her fingernails looked like bruises, and her knuckles swelled. It looked like it hurt, and I wondered why Jae wasn’t saying so. The shock of the situation hit me with full force, so I let go and broke the connection.
It was only then that Jae’s eyes returned to their natural state, and she noticed the pain in her arm. The former noblewoman doubled over and howled.
“What did you do to me?” she cried.
These words radiated through the dungeons. All of them penetrated me like a series of knives, and I shrank back at their accusations.
I didn’t have an answer for her. All I knew was that in the midst of compelling her, I had not only caused her to lose her senses, but I started to lose myself as well. I punished her painfully, unaware of my own actions, and she unaware of the pain.
Even though my hands shook, my feet managed to work and hurry me out of the dungeons. Guilt wracked my stomach the whole way back up the stairs and out into the court, doused in moonlight. I threw open the door and nearly collided with the nice young guard.
“Lady Eva?” he asked with a concerned expression. “Are you alright?”
I had realized the danger of Gideonia’s gift and also discovered that the world was supposed to end in thirty days. I was far from alright.
3
Seven sleepy dragons looked at me with groggy eyes and fluttering eyelids. We stood in a circle in the center of the hedge maze, normally Monte’s dwelling, though we made use of it as a central meeting space since everyone could fit.
The minute I left Jae in the dungeons, I dashed for the Gardens. I hated how I had to wake up all the dragons, save for Zulu, who seemed to thrive in the nighttime, but Jae’s information about the Lunar Eclipse changed everything. I needed to share it with them, and while, yes, we were set to leave for the morning, I wanted more information before then.
“We have a problem,” I started. I stood in the center, and the dragons fanned out in a semi-circle in front of me.
They were a rainbow of colors, the seven of them. Monte, my main djer, was the only one with hair that flowed in a gorgeous mane down his neck. His scales rippled with a blue-green color that changed depending on the lighting.
Chyndron was the oldest of the dragons, a bright red color with a triangular face and three horns atop his head. He was the one who originally brought me through the well and into this world of Andsdyer, a feat I learned had only happened twice before me.
The other five and I had only recently met and bonded. Gideonia nearly blended in with the night sky, with her shimmering navy black coloring. She had a harsh personality that took some getting used to. The dragon had a lot of baggage from previous experiences that she needed to unpack. Needless to say, feelings were not her strong suit.
Lucien had unique scales. They looked like a cavern of emeralds. His coat was hard and nearly unbreakable. When I wanted, I could borrow his armor, and it would appear on my own skin. However, the trouble was that when I had the green scales, it would leave Lucien defenseless.
Timone was the second dragon I bonded with after Monte. She gifted me with grace, which seems a little lame. However, it had helped me on more than one occasion. She was lean and radiated a brilliant purple coat, with horns that spiraled like a unicorn’s.
Myels had unique wings, webbed like the foot of a toad. His white skin bubbled and appeared translucent, not unlike the top of a jellyfish. He preferred the water to the sky and gifted me with the ability to breathe underwater. He taught me to relax in the water, and as such, some of the lakes in Andsdyer became my safe havens.
Finally, there was Zulu. While she was the smallest of the dragons, she had massive horns that branched out like antlers. Her scales mixed black and orange, giving her a speckled look. She was the quietest of all the dragons, though when she had something to say, you took notice.
The seven of them stood before me, awake but not too happy about it. This might have been one of those moments where they questioned making me their queen.
“And what is this problem?” Chyndron said, his voice sounding like rocks in a blender.
“Yes, one problem so u
rgent that we had to be woken in the middle of the night before we are supposed to start a long journey?” Gideonia added. I knew she threw the second part in there just to irk me, but I plowed over her concerns.
“Apparently, Reon is planning his final massive outbreak during the Lunar Eclipse, which is thirty days from now,” I reported.
The dragons stood silent. They did nothing but huff out hot hair from the nostrils and blink down at me. I looked up at each of them in turn with my hands outstretched.
“Guys,” I lamented, “this is a huge problem.”
“While I agree that this is a concern…” Lucien began, but he cut himself off with a yawn.
Myels jumped in. “Why is it a concern right now?”
“Because,” I protested, drawing the word out longer than necessary, “we now have a deadline. We only have thirty days to find and destroy Reon before he destroys the world. That’s kind of a big deal.”
“Yes, but we have thirty days, Eva, not thirty minutes,” Gideonia said sharply. “Why did you wake us?”
“Because we don’t even know where we’re going tomorrow!” I exclaimed, my voice rising in panic with each word. “We are just going to trek to this supposed mountain that may or may not be destroyed, and we’re not even sure about that. What if he’s not there? Then we’re really screwed.”
“Eva,” Timone said gently, “have you gotten any sleep?”
“Not yet,” I answered honestly.
“You should try to rest,” she continued sweetly. “The journey will be a harrowing one, no doubt, especially now that we have a deadline to worry about, as you say.”
“Wait a second,” I paused as a fully processed Timone’s words. “Do you not believe me?”
“No,” Chyndron said quickly. “We are interested to learn where you got this information is all.”
My eyes shifted towards Monte, who conveniently looked up at the ceiling as if he were suddenly very interested in counting the stars. I snarled at him, as talking to Jae had been his idea, but he still didn’t look my way. So I bit my lip and turned to Chyndron.
“I may or may not have gone to visit Jae,” I said like it was no big deal.
“Oh, Eva,” Timone said sympathetically. “How do you even know if this information is reliable?”
“Jae betrayed you, remember?” Lucien said as if I didn’t remember a week ago.
“All of that is true,” Monte interjected, “but Jae is also the closest link we have to Reon. It was a reasonable move to talk to her.”
“You agree with putting her in such danger?” Chyndron asked with a scowl.
“Jae is locked up and without powers,” Monte offered with a shrug. “She was not in danger.”
“That still does not mean the information she provided is worthwhile,” Timone argued.
“I thought it was a good idea,” I defended, feeling the need to stand up for myself. “That’s why I did it. I also know that she was telling the truth and that this information is one hundred percent real and worth worrying about.”
“How?” Gideonia accused. “How do you know?”
I pressed my lips together in a line and tried to keep my face as neutral as possible. I pushed out a breath through my nose, and the air visibly rose into the cold night. I didn’t know what to do at that moment, because my brain couldn’t come up with a reasonable lie, but I didn’t want to tell Gideonia or the rest of the clan the truth about what I had done. However, the intelligent female dragon found the answer in my silence.
“You made her tell you.” It was a statement, not a question, so I didn’t answer. Gideonia continued regardless. “You compelled her using my gift. Even after you promised you would never use it.”
I remained quiet, unable to come up with a response. I braced myself for yelling, for a guilt-trip, for her to storm off. My feet planted into the ground with a wide stance, gearing up for the attack. But, to my surprise, it didn’t come. Gideonia merely responded with an actual question this time.
“How badly did you hurt her?”
“What… what do you mean?” I stuttered, confused by her question.
“When you compelled her, you had to touch her,” Gideonia explained, too calmly for comfort, “and your touch hurt her. The longer you compelled her, the more you hurt her, right?”
Slowly, I nodded as my brain thought back to her purpling arm and the cries of pain that followed me up the dungeon stairs.
“Well,” Gideonia stuck out her long tongue and licked the outside of her mouth, “now you know the consequences of the gift. I warned you about the person you would become if you used it, but apparently, a promise is not worth anything to you.”
“Gideonia,” Chyndron scolded like a father to his child, but Gideonia ignored him.
“Well done, Eva,” Gideonia mocked. “You tortured her for information that does nothing to help us right now and decided to wake us all up for it. This whole adventure’s off to a great start.”
I thought I’d prepared properly for the guilt, but it nearly knocked me over as Gideonia spoke. The navy dragon turned her back to me and maneuvered out of the hedge maze.
“Gideonia,” I called out, finally finding my voice, “Where are you going?”
“To get some rest,” she responded as she walked away. “You said your piece, and I am going to sleep the few hours I have left before we go about this journey blind. I suggest you do the same.”
It took all of my self-control not to command her to come back here and listen to me. I was the queen of dragons, after all. She had to listen to me, but something told me she was right. I overreacted to Jae’s intel and panicked. Mostly I wanted their advice. I wanted them to tell me something useful, so I didn’t feel so helpless. Instead, I managed to alienate one of the dragons and annoy the rest.
So far, I was doing a great job at this supposed leader thing.
“She’s right,” I said softly. “I’m sorry, everyone. You should go back to bed. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“Eva,” Zulu spoke up from her perch, “why did you wake us? There must have been a reason.”
The black dragon’s words tumbled in my head, like water clattering together at the base of a waterfall. They tore into one another with senseless abandon. I found I couldn’t answer her question because I didn’t have an answer. Not one I wanted to admit aloud, anyway.
“I just thought you all ought to know,” I replied lamely, “in case it changed our game plan or something.”
“I think it does, to an extent,” Chyndron agreed. “We do have a finite amount of time now when we thought we had the freedom to explore Andsdyer as needed. We will continue with the current plan and head north, where the mountains used to be.”
“Right,” I said with a nod, though I kept my eyes trained on the ground. I didn’t have it in me to look any of them in the eye right now. The shame grew in my chest like a balloon.
“Thank you for telling us, Eva,” Chyndron said, trying to save the evening.
“Sure thing,” I said, giving the group a thumbs up though I continued to avoid eye contact.
“We will reconvene at sunrise,” Chyndron announced.
Like one unit, the dragons departed. Some stretched their wings and flew up, beyond the limits of the hedges. Others wove their way through the openings on foot and back to their corner of the Gardens. Monte lagged behind as did I.
I kicked a stray rock, and it hurtled into the base of the fountain with a crack of stone on stone.
“Well,” Monte spoke into my mind, “that could have gone worse.”
“Oh, really?” I replied. “Not by much.”
“We could have completely denounced you,” Monte offered unhelpfully.
“That might have been better,” I commented snarkily.
“Or we could have just burned you right on the spot,” Monte added.
“Save me the embarrassment,” I mumbled.
“Eva, stop moping,” Monte said, changing his tone. “You were
worried and frightened. So you came to us for reassurance, right?”
“I guess,” I moped.
“This whole thing is scary,” Monte sympathized. “You are expected to lead us, and that’s a whole other challenge, not to mention the saving the world part.”
“Yeah, no big deal,” I said blandly.
“I think you did the right thing, if it helps,” Monte said softly. He nudged me with his snout, and I tilted to the left, a little off-kilter. “We needed a little fire under our asses.”
“I wanted to get more from her,” I admitted suddenly. “I wanted Jae to have like the magic answer or something. Instead, she only scared me more with his deadline. I mean, I don’t feel more prepared than I did earlier. Just more tired.”
“You should sleep,” Monte suggested.
“You’re not my mother,” I joked, but it was only half-hearted. My spirit wasn’t in the mood for jokes, not in the face of such doom.
“I am sure that while I never met your mother, she would tell you the same thing.”
Monte pressed his forehead to mine, and I welcomed the touch this time. We stood in silence for a moment, listening only to the sounds of the cold winter night and our heartbeats thumping in time with one another. My eyelids grew heavy, and I found I didn’t want to open them again. I could have fallen asleep right there against Monte. It wouldn’t be the first time I slept curled next to my djer, but out here in the cold, it probably wasn’t the best idea.
The dragon gave me a small shove, so I rocked back on my feet, no longer touching him. “Your bed’s that way.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I brushed him off with my hand.
“Sleep well, Eva,” Monte said wistfully.
“You too, Monte,” I returned the sentiment.
My feet stomped through the light snow, dragging more than stepping. My footprints were long stripes in the white ground. I managed to make it up the stairs to my room and paused at the doorway. My thoughts rushed back in a flurry, and I knew it would be a rough night. Luckily, my body was just tired enough that I might be able to convince my brain to slow down and take a breather.
