“You hate Max. Something about his dark aura, if I’m not mistaken. Despite that, you trust him to help us?” I ask in astonishment.
“No, dear. I don’t. But I trust you, and you trust him, so let’s put it to the test. Convince him to help us. Right now, he’s our last hope, and you know I wouldn’t say that if it weren’t true.” Her words are like ice.
Chills run over me. I inhale sharply. “I can’t promise anything, but I will try.”
“Thank you. I shall be waiting for you both at home while I prepare some tools we need.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.” I hang up and throw all of my research into a bag, slinging it over my shoulder. I take a look over my room, searching for anything I might need, but nothing stands out and I can’t keep wasting time.
I head out. I try not to think about what will happen in the next twenty-four hours. What if I fail? What if I succeed? Will Max help? Will he give up on me entirely? I shake my head. “Be calm. Be strong. Be clear. He can’t argue with facts and reason.” I stretch my shoulders, take one last calming deep breath, and knock on the front door.
The door swings open. Sherri beams down at me. “Hi, Alita! I wasn’t expecting to see you so early this morning. I assume you’re here for Max. He’s in his room. Go on up.” She waves me in and closes the door.
“Thank you.” I smile the best I can muster and take the steps two at a time. I gently knock on Max’s door. He opens it to reveal his muscular shirtless torso.
“Hey.” He blushes. “What are you doing here?” He walks to his closet and pulls on a shirt. I definitely didn’t mind the view.
“Max,” I say, dumping out the contents of my backpack onto his bed. “I need you to listen to me. And when I say that, I don’t mean just the words I’m saying.” I look him in the eye so he has to give me all his attention.
“Okay, what’s going on?” He runs his hands through his hair.
“I know you’ve struggled with believing me, but we can’t do this dance anymore. Lives depend on it, so pay attention.”
I smooth down the papers, moving some aside to find the ones I want. I pull out my diagram. Dragons circled in the center, shoot-offs showing different facts. I go over everything I’ve put together, showing him different texts, stories, cultures—the whole nine yards.
When I’ve finished after what feels like forever, he stares at me, contemplating what to say based on the up and down of his jaw. “Alita,” he mutters. “You’re trying to convince me that dragons are real. You have been for a long time. I thought maybe this was a phase and it would go away, but clearly, it’s not. I’m concerned about you.”
“Max.” I grab his shoulders, jostling him and forcing him to look me in the eye. “There are tales about dragons in every country in the world. Every culture has their own version—religions talk about them as monsters. There have been stories about dragons since the beginning of time. If they aren’t real, explain that to me.”
He mulls it over. I can practically see the wheels turning in his mind. But the initial thoughts must be wearing off too quickly because he shakes his head, seeming more dumbfounded than before. “They’re just stories, Al. How could they be real? If they are, why haven’t I ever seen them? Why hasn’t anyone seen or heard them?”
“Because . . .” I shuffle through more papers, looking for the one about Runavelius and magic and the wizards who put up the magic shield. “They had to go into hiding.” I show him the diagram I drew depicting the scene Yackros showed me. I explain in great detail everything I know about it.
“Okay, fine. Say this is all true. Why are you demanding that I accept it as truth now? You’ve been telling me these things for weeks, but you told me you’d let me come to terms with it on my own. So what’s changed?”
“There is a pearl that chooses a dragon to rule over their kind. The king was kidnapped and the pearl was stolen. And now an evil dragon named Ruxsiu is corrupting the pearl. He’s using dark powers to bend the pearl to do his will so it will choose him as the king. And if that happens, if he succeeds, he will rule the dragons. He will control them. And he will use that power to rule the world. This process takes thousands of years, and that’s about how long he’s been working on it. The pearl is almost gone to us. We have to save it and the true dragon king, Fyazum, before it’s too late. We have to do it today. And in order to get into the hidden caves where both the king and his pearl are being held, we need three people. But right now it’s just me and Rohesia,” I say.
He looks at me, at the papers, back again. “Why not her family?”
“I don’t have time to explain it. Will you help me or not?”
He nods slowly. “I will.”
Relief floods my senses. “Thank you!” I throw my arms around him.
He wraps his arms around my waist, holding me close. “Are we in a hurry? I assume school is out of the question?”
“Yeah.” I laugh. “School is out of the question. Let’s go.” I kiss him on the lips before turning to gather my things.
We get in the car, and I take us on the road as fast as possible. I go as fast as I can without risking a ticket. I can’t afford the lost time of getting pulled over.
And it feels like torture. It feels like I’m going slower than I ever have before. But progress is progress. When we reach the dirt road, I pull off.
I don’t bother knocking when we get to the house—Rohesia is expecting us. And there she stands in the living room, sticking a dagger in her leather boots that go up to her knees, her skin-tight riding pants tucked into them. She’s donning a new style, wearing a loose cut peasant blouse.
“I see you won him over. I’m glad.” She smiles, and I’m sure she’s trying to be sincere, but the look in her eyes says differently.
“I did. Are you ready to go?” I ask, feeling more and more impatient.
“Not just yet. You’re going to want to put these on.” She grabs something from the chair beside her and tosses it to me.
“New pants? What’s wrong with what I have on?” I look down at my outfit.
“Well, let’s just say that assuming our mission is successful, we won’t be driving a car out of there, and riding a dragon is not quite the same as riding a horse. You’re going to want something far stronger than that thin fabric. Now go change.”
I do as she says, going into the bathroom. I look at my tennis shoes compared to her boots and wonder if that’s a problem too, but I highly doubt she has an extra pair of those lying around, so I don’t mention it when I come back out.
Max is sitting in the wing-backed chair looking incredibly uncomfortable, wearing a similar pair of pants to what Rohesia gave me. I smirk, trying not to, but finding it a little funny.
Luckily, he doesn’t look at me. I wipe the grin off my face and instead look at Rohesia, wondering what’s next. There’s a heavy nervous anticipation flooding my senses. I don’t know what’s to come. I don’t know what to expect, or our odds of making it. Am I walking to my death? Will I ever see my family again? Should I have left a note, or will I be back in time for dinner?
“What about weapons for us?” I gesture between Max and myself.
“You won’t need any,” she says solemnly.
“Why not?” Max asks before I can.
She licks her bottom lip and clears her throat. “Because this is how things are going to happen.” She places another weapon down her boot, continuing to gather her things while she talks. “Max is going to press the lever on the tree. He’s going to remain there and keep as quiet as physically possible, hidden away from view, until Alita has finished with her task, which will be to get inside the cave and prop the door open.”
“And what about you?” I ask, already knowing the answer, but wanting to hear it just the same.
“I will be fighting the furies. I won’t be able to hold them forever, but I can keep them occupied until you finish,” she says to me. “And once you’re done with that task, both of you get inside and f
ind the path that will lead you to Fyazum.” She looks so sad saying his name.
“Rohesia,” I say quietly. “What if I fought them? He’s your dragon. You’ve been apart for thousands of years. You deserve to be reunited as soon as possible.” I shiver. “I’ve known Yackros for eleven years, been apart from him for mere weeks, and I can barely go a day without talking to him. I can’t even imagine the scale of your pain. You should be there for him when we break in.”
She sniffles, wiping at her eyes and standing up straight. “No. I’ve fought the furies before. I know their ways, their moves, and their magic. I understand how they think. And I have a better chance of holding their attention longer, which will give you the greatest chance at getting in. You will follow the plan, both of you—” She looks between us, pausing to glare at Max a little longer, “and no matter what happens, you will not stop until you accomplish our mission. Do not stop for anyone who falls behind. We can’t afford it.”
21
We pile into Rohesia’s old pickup truck, her at the wheel, me in the passenger seat, and Max right behind me in the back. I watch out the window, letting my mind wander. I try to relax, sleep, just rest my eyes. Nothing helps.
I can feel sparks in the air. It’s so thick, it’s becoming harder to breathe. I’m drowning in nothing and everything all at once. I’ve spent the last year preparing for this moment, and I’m no more prepared now than I was three hundred and sixty-five days ago.
No surprise, given I wasn’t prepared to discover dragons at all. They made my life better. Gave me purpose. Showed me a path to strive for. Yackros gave me dreams and hopes. He let me see what life was like and what it could be again if not for Ruxsiu and Séraphin.
The drive is both longer and shorter than I expected. It seems never-ending, and yet when we arrive at the little brown sign guiding us to the Santa Rita Mountains National Forest. I stop breathing. I search our surroundings for any sign of mythical activity, not that I really expect to find any. If I didn’t know Runavelius was there in the Dragoon Mountains, I wouldn’t see anything different either. But this feels different.
This is a location people visit daily. They explore every speck of this mountain. Rangers, tourists, locals. Wouldn’t they have found something? How is it that I stumbled upon dragons accidentally, just by walking into their secret realm, and no one has done so here? If Séraphin thought hiding in a cave was a good idea, he must have put strong magic over it. Stronger than that of Runavelius.
And who did it for him? I’ve been assuming it was only two beings hidden away inside. What if I’m wrong? What if there are more? What if there’s a whole army waiting for our attack? Not that I plan on actually attacking anyone. I see a flaw in Rohesia’s plan.
“Once we find Fyazum, what do we do? Surely Séraphin is with him. There’s no chance he’d leave him unattended, right? And you didn’t give either of us weapons. How could we ever hope to defeat him? He’ll kill both of us in an instant.”
“No, he won’t.” She shakes her head, but keeps her eyes on the road.
“How can you say that? How could you possibly know? He wants to rule the dragons, and we’re going to stop him. Surely he’s going to defend himself.”
I watch as Rohesia adjusts the rearview mirror. I look back and see Max fast asleep, his head turned in a weird position and resting against the window. He looks so uncomfortable, but I don’t dare wake him.
“If Séraphin attacks anyone, it will be you, Alita. And with your magic, you are more than strong enough to defend yourself. But I imagine that once he sees Max, he will not have the heart or attention to fight back, which is why you must be alert. Watch yourself. And I do mean it when I say that you are to stop for no one, no matter who falls behind.” She takes a deep breath and puts the mirror back where it was.
“What are you talking about? You speak as though you already know what’s going to happen, and that frightens me. If you have that kind of power, why haven’t you used it before?” I straighten up and turn to face her.
“I don’t know for sure, but I have my suspicions.”
“About what? How could you think Séraphin would let us walk away? And what on earth would make him stop because of Max? Furthermore, how in the world are we going to save a dragon? Is there a large opening for him to fly through? Is it going to take more power than I have or know how to control?” I know I’m asking one question after another before she can answer, but I can’t seem to help it.
“Your powers are strong enough. He may be older, but magic was never his strong suit. He relies on gimmicks, tricks, and illusions. Call his bluff. Watch his every move. Don’t let him disappear. He’s going to try. And if he does, he will reach Runavelius long before we can recoup and get there.”
“Why would he go to Runavelius? This is about the pearl. About controlling the dragons.” I lean forward, looking the black clouds above us and feeling their doom in my very soul.
“Dear girl, this has always been about Runavelius. That’s where his dragon is. As long as Fyazum and I have been apart, so have he and Ruxsiu. If they succeed in corrupting the pearl, they will reunite and kill everyone we love because we dared to interrupt their plans.”
“You can’t be serious. They’re not going to get together the second we get there and rain down on the world. Are they?” I realize that in all truth, I don’t know. I can’t know what they’re going to do.
“Alita, you asked how to get Fyazum out of there. Don’t worry about him. Don’t worry about anything but finding that pearl. In order to corrupt it, Séraphin has to use dark magic, allowing it to—” She tilts her head, trying to think of a word. “Soak in, for lack of a better example. He will put it somewhere surrounded by other dark things. A place where only darkness could touch it. Find that room. Get the pearl. And get out. Once you have the gem, Fyazum will be able to free himself.”
“Won’t he need it?” I ask stupidly.
“No. Upon your first touch to the shiny white slopes of that stone, he will know it has been freed from the darkness feeding into it. As soon as that happens, once Séraphin no longer controls the pearl that controls the king, there will be no stopping Fyazum from going after Séraphin and Ruxsiu.” Her voice goes gravelly, and I get the sense she’s excited for what’s about to happen.
“And I assume we’re wearing ridiculous pants because we’re going with Fyazum to Runavelius?”
Rohesia pulls the truck off to the side of the road. She unbuckles and looks at me. “This is the first step toward battle, Alita. You are probably under the impression that once we get the pearl and the king, our job is done, but that isn’t so. Ruxsiu has a hold on that pearl whether we free it or not. It will be a battle to the death, until one king remains standing and the pearl loyal only to him. If you’re not up for this, help me get the pearl, and I alone will go with my dragon to Runavelius.” She holds out the truck key, dangling it before me.
“Rohesia, I’m terrified for my life. For my family. For my boyfriend who’s with me on this crazy mission that feels like we have little chance of accomplishing. But if you think I came this far to give up on Yackros now, perhaps I was wrong about the way you feel toward your dragon.” I brush the keys away only to knock them from her hand. They fall in the cup holder.
She glances down at them and smiles, looking wicked happy. “There they will stay. We will see who needs them by the end of this battle. Whoever it is, feel free to use them. I won’t be returning right away—I’ll have a different means of transportation. Are you prepared now for what you’re walking into?”
I nod just as I realize that she only answered a few of my questions, and certainly not the most pressing ones. But in the rearview mirror, I see Max sit up, and know it’s too late to bring him up again. Whatever Rohesia has to say about him won’t be nice, and the last thing I want to do is hurt him. Certainly not while I’m walking him to his death.
“Let’s do this.” We get out, and everything feels like we’re going in slow
motion. Perhaps it’s because of the rate at which my heart beats, or the cold sweat covering every inch of me. The sky has turned an ugly gray, and the looming storm above is a bad omen to the things to come.
I do my best to ignore it and pay more attention on the path before me. We walk in the dirt, so light in color and soft, it’s more like sand. I kick at it, watching the dust fly away in the breeze.
“Where is this tree with the lever I’m supposed to hold down?” Max asks, sounding discordant.
“Trust me, I will show you the moment we’re close enough. It will be clear when we’re there, but there is a bit of a walk to it. I imagine Séraphin made sure of this because the last thing he wanted was for someone to break through the magic, accidentally or intentionally, and find his secret lair. Once we’re inside, it only takes one person to destroy his entire plan.”
“And what if we don’t succeed?” he asks, seemingly less than thrilled.
I don’t want to consider that. I couldn’t even bring myself to think about it, let alone ask. Leave that to Max, the less aggressive word for cynical.
“If you don’t want to succeed, you won’t, and there is no one who can help you with that. But if you want it, you’re willing to fight for it, and no one will be able to stop you. Which one is the case for you, Max? Are you going to blow it because you don’t believe any of this, or are you going to fight because you love the woman you’re following up this mountain?” Rohesia says, her words giving me goose bumps.
And leave it to her, a dreamer, to make Max sound like a jerk for asking one simple question. But I want to know his answer too, though I’d never say that to his face. How could I? How could I tell him that I don’t think he trusts me enough? Loves me enough? Or is unwilling to fight for me, fight alongside me?
“I didn’t come this far to give up on Alita.”
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