by Toni Kerr
“Tynan? As in Lazaro’s Tynan?” Tristan glanced at Landon, who turned away. “You knew?”
“You’re spying on us?” Dorian asked. Suddenly all the guilt was on Landon and Victor, and not the fact that she was clearly on friendly terms with the enemy.
“No, we’re not spying,” Victor answered. “But we do keep tabs on certain people. It’s called, ‘being on the lookout, just in case.’”
“They aren’t forcing you to meet with them, are they?” Tristan asked.
“No,” Dorian waved him off, as if Tynan was of no concern. “Forget Tynan. Remember when the plants went on strike for Lazaro? It’s like that. Plants do have a will, and they can control how beneficial they are. Some plants strive to please people, but others just want to experience life as a human. Or an animal. Or a fish. They enjoy being mobile, and when the ride is over, the energy goes back into the cycle. Make sense?”
“Yeah. Except I don’t understand why you forgave Tynan for being part of the whole kidnapping scheme and not me for trying to save you.”
“Look, Tristan. It wasn’t fair and I’m sorry we were harsh. We, I, were confused and angry, but really, you couldn’t stay here. None of us knew how to handle you.”
“I don’t need handling!”
“Oliver has seen enough violence in his days and wasn’t up for the challenge like Gram was.”
“I wouldn’t have done anything!”
“Tristan,” Landon whispered. “Arguing won’t change how it went down, and it all worked out for the best. So let’s get back to the food issue.”
“I’m sorry, Tristan.” Dorian picked bushels of carrots, beans, and some sort of berry.
“No, Landon’s right. I needed to go and you guys just made the decision that much easier.” Obviously, he’d taken the whole ordeal more personally than she did.
Dorian nodded. “Maybe I shouldn’t tell you, but, about the plants....”
“There’s a catch to this whole food thing, isn’t there?”
“No. No catch.” Dorian bit her lip and wouldn’t look at him directly. “Let me just say, you can do no wrong when it comes to plants. They worship the ground you walk on.”
“What?” Tristan glanced at Landon, waiting for him to put a better spin on that subject as well, but he only shrugged and kept his mouth shut.
“It’s part of the reason why we got off on such a bad foot. I really am sorry for that.”
“They don’t worship me. That’s just—” Though if the trees outside the castle were any indication....
“Look around you!” Dorian spread her arms to include the entire forest. “Look at the path you took to get here.”
Tristan twisted to face the lake, shaken by bright green path of tiny grass blades and little white flowers. “It’s probably the staff. Or Pink. That’s it.” Tristan glanced at Eric and turned back to Dorian.
“Don’t ever discount the value of having the plants on your side.”
“I won’t. In fact, I’m very grateful for their support, and their willingness to, um, keep me alive.” Suddenly they were running out of time and he felt a rush of energy from just the thought of eating again. “So that’s why I came to see you, to find out how you could eat your friends without feeling any guilt over it. I think I understand now. The second reason I needed to see you,” he glanced at Landon, then Eric, who was standing hopefully out of earshot. “Victor and I will go back to the plane, and Landon will explain.”
“Why can’t you just explain now?”
“Because we have an audience. If I go back to the plane, all eyes will be there and you and Landon can talk.”
“Why did you come in a plane?”
“Because....” He couldn’t think of a worthy cover-up story and opted for the truth. “The Seraphim Council is after me now, and that’s when I seem to be most available to them—during transport.”
“I knew there was a good reason to hate being transported!”
“It’s just me they’re after, no one else.”
“Okay then. When will I see you again?”
“I don’t know.” Tristan thought about taking her hand, but refrained. He rarely knew if they were on more-than-friendly terms or not. “I appreciate your help, for me and for Pink.”
She scowled at the mention of Pink, but let it go. “I’ll round up some food for the flight and we’ll see about planting a garden for you.”
Tristan made a conscious effort to change his perspective when she handed him the three tomatoes who squealed with delight. They still sounded like gleeful children who had no idea what was really in store for them. “You would help me plant a garden?”
“If Oliver lets me, I’d love to.”
Tristan smiled and used the staff to pull himself up from the chair.
“The next time I see you, you’d better be well. And if you don’t eat those tomatoes, they’ll wither away without having served any greater purpose.”
Tristan nodded.
“I’ll wait for the food,” said Victor. “Besides, I have a few questions about cooking said food. Maybe we can get Eric to escort you back to the plane and more eyes would be on you.”
“Good idea.” Tristan nodded at Landon before eyeing Eric and the plane. “Tell her everything.”
Eric didn’t budge. Dorian smiled as Tristan made his way down the hill, carefully avoiding the trail of grassy sprouts that had grown in his wake on the way up. He was insulting them in a way, by being unwilling to use the path they’d created, but she knew he meant well.
He stumbled on a protruding rock and caught himself with his walking stick. When he glanced over his shoulder, she pretended not to notice.
The sprouts finally caught on, anticipating his direction and cutting him off. He stopped again, clearly trying to figure out how to get to the rocky beach without crushing anything.
They’re trying to help, you know, thought Dorian, taking pity on the poor plants.
By making me take the longest route possible? Some help, Tristan grumbled.
If you would follow them, they’ll lead you through the most stable ground, around any rocks, roots, or soft spots you might not see. They might even cushion your fall if you drop dead.
I can see the ground just fine, and thanks for the vote of confidence. Tristan rested his head against the stick. Before you told me not to step on anything, now you’re saying it’s fine?
You were rude and obnoxious back then, and we were talking about transplants. These sprouts have a well-established root system. You can’t hurt them by walking on them.
Tristan straightened slightly, and began walking on the freshly sprouted path toward the dock. Does that mean you don’t think I’m rude and obnoxious now?
You have your moments, but I’m glad to see you have some appreciation for the plants now. Maybe there’s hope for you after all?
Whatever. Tristan stopped at the wooden dock, turned around, and whispered something to the ground. Then he looked directly at her, making her breath catch in her throat. Thanks, Dorian. I really do appreciate your help. Especially if you can help Pink.
She’d forgotten about this Pink person, and glanced at Landon, who was lounging in Tristan’s chair with his hands clasped behind his head. Victor stood suspiciously close to him. Before she could ask what they were up to, she noticed a tiny girl, with beautiful butterfly wings and silvery blue hair, standing with perfect stillness.
Dorian stared at the figurine; Victor’s position blocked Eric’s view.
The plants behind her were quiet, waiting like she was, unsure if the girl was alive or some brilliantly crafted figurine.
“A faerie?” she finally whispered, unable to wait any longer. The plants began whispering in excited tones, spreading the word instantly.
“I’m a Pixie.” The girl’s wings fluttered suddenly and her feet lifted from Landon’s shoulder.
Dorian gasped and her eyes went wide. “For real?”
Landon nodded. “Obviously, we need to k
eep her a secret.”
“Tristan says you can be trusted,” added Pink.
“Of course,” Dorian breathed. “Of course I can keep it secret.” But the plants had already spread the word. Everyone on the island would know in the next five minutes.
“Good. Because Tristan is never wrong when it comes to who can be trusted and who cannot.”
Dorian shut her mouth. How did Tristan rank so high? Though she felt a thrill that he actually found her trustworthy after everything they’d been through. “But the plants—they’ve already told.”
“Tristan mentioned no warning about the plants finding out, so I think we are safe in that regard.” She glanced up at Landon. “Did I say that correctly?”
“Yes.” Landon beamed. “You said it just fine.”
Dorian glanced at the dock leading to the seaplane. Tristan must have already made it inside. “Why Tristan?”
“Tristan is my—”
“Dragon,” Landon finished. “Tristan found Pink and rescued her. Now she’s rather attached.”
“I see.” She glanced again at Eric. They had to get away. “Uncle Eric?”
He turned to face her with a questioning look.
“We’re going to go gather some food. Mushrooms on the ridge. We won’t be long.”
“Sorry, Dorian. We can’t confirm that’s him on the plane. So I think you better just stay where you are. There’s plenty of food right there, and you can get whatever you want from the house.”
Dorian drummed her fingers and scowled. “Can Landon and Victor come in the house to carry stuff?”
“Two minutes, Dorian. No more.”
Dorian jumped to her feet and grinned. “Come on. We’ll be quick.” She nearly ran to the house and held the door open for Landon and Victor. The pixie took off in flight, leaving a trail of glowing sparkles as she explored the darkened cabin. “Wow. I wish Gram was here to see this. I need to tell Ardon. He probably already knows. Can I keep her for a while? Is that okay? What exactly do you need from me? Here.” She started shoveling food into canvas bags. “Most of this was picked today—it’s still fresh. And here’s some bread. Soup. Not sure if he’ll like it...don’t worry about returning containers.”
“Pink needs to find a certain flower,” said Landon. “We’re hoping you’ll recognize it by her description, and that maybe you’ll know where we can find it.”
“Sounds easy enough.” She handed three bags to Victor. They both looked so serious. “About Tristan. I get why he’s not eating, and hopefully that’ll change, but poison either spreads to kill, or dies out on its own. Why isn’t he healing, and how is he surviving with no food for so long? I’m confused.”
“We don’t know if it’s the poison making him ill or the power he took on, but clearly his shoulder isn’t healing. We’re still hoping you find a cure for him.”
“I need more tissue samples to work with, but honestly, I’m at a loss. The samples I get from Madam Galina disintegrate within hours. I don’t understand how he’s surviving something so aggressive.”
Landon turned away, as did Victor.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“When he touched the emerald, it made him, sort of, immortal.”
Immortal? It couldn’t be possible. “Sort of?”
“That’s how he survived the dragon slayers,” added Victor. “He was healing himself as they went. But now, the poison can’t override the immortality, and the immortality can’t override the poison.”
“So if you could keep trying for that cure, we’d be grateful.”
“I will.” She’d be grateful, too, if she could help him in some way. Why didn’t he tell her? “I asked Ardon about it, but maybe Tristan should go see him. He’s the oldest tree on the island, and he remembers when dragons used to come here. Tristan said he wanted information.”
Pink returned to the kitchen, bringing with her a delightful, childlike glee that made Dorian smile with genuine awe. “I’ll take Pink to meet him as soon as possible, assuming I can keep her for a bit?”
“Are you okay with staying?” Landon asked, holding his hand for the pixie to land.
“You’ll come back for me?”
“Of course. I’ll give you a few hours, but stay hidden from all the people. Don’t fly unless Dorian says it’s clear. Got it?”
“I do!” Pink blew Landon a kiss and leaped to Dorian’s shoulder.
“Thank you for telling me,” Dorian said. “I’ll do what I can, and I’ll keep Pink safe while she’s here.”
“You might want to let Tristan tell you about the immortality himself.”
“I’ll do that.” Though if he hadn’t told her by now, he probably didn’t intend to.
11
LESSON LEARNED
THE RHYTHMIC CADENCE of footsteps on the wooden decking drew Tristan’s awareness outward: Landon and Victor were walking toward the plane. They both carried a bag in each hand and Tristan rushed from the cushioned bench to let them in.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Tristan took the nearest bag and dumped the contents onto the bench, stuffing a dinner roll into his mouth as he closed his eyes and thanked everything that had gone into such an amazing creation for existing in the first place. “Oh, yum,” he said with his mouth full. “Where’s Pink?”
Victor and Landon both laughed and dumped the rest of the contents on the bench in front of Tristan. “Looks like a Halloween candy fest!” said Victor.
“Pink will stay for a while,” added Landon, taking his seat across the walkway. “I’ll sneak back later tonight to see if she’s ready to come home. Dorian is thrilled.”
Tristan swallowed an over-sized bite and picked up a pear, stuffing a manageable chunk into his mouth before speaking again. “Oliver doesn’t know, does he?”
“No, they’re not even back yet. Dorian plans to take Pink to a tree named Ardon, who apparently remembers when the dragons came to the island, so you might want to talk to him next time you’re here.”
Tristan nodded, accepting an open pocketknife from Victor to cut a chunk of zucchini or cucumber—he wasn’t sure which.
“You know,” Victor said, “there really is no hurry. The food isn’t going anywhere.”
“I know, but I’m starving and this is so good.” He mentally apologized for making the simple nature of things so complicated and took another bite. “I don’t think you guys understand what a relief this is.”
They let him eat in silence until he couldn’t swallow another bite.
“I shouldn’t have eaten so much,” Tristan groaned.
“Considering your stomach was probably the size of an apple, I’d say so.”
The door swung open and Donovan boarded the plane. His jacket was gone and his white dress-shirt was splattered with mud. His shiny shoes and slacks were also filthy. He looked Tristan up and down and went to the back of the plane, where he pulled a leather bag from a shelf. “Looks like our mission here was successful enough.”
“Yep,” Victor said. “He’s willingly stuffed. What about yours?”
Tristan’s mood plummeted. Landon, ever the empath, gave him a sympathetic look of understanding.
“We found eleven survivors.” Donovan exchanged his shirt for a clean one and headed for the cockpit. “Buckle up.”
“Is there a death toll?” Tristan asked.
“I have confidence that we found everyone with a pulse.”
Tristan fought the undulating food in the pit of his stomach, threatening to come back up. It hardly seemed fair that he could sit here and gorge himself while people were struggling to survive a disaster he created. No matter what the reason was behind the rain.
“Stop treating yourself that way.” Donovan gripped Tristan’s chin and forced him to look up, startling him. “You or I might save a person who kills a thousand people next week. Or we might kill a person who could have saved millions a year from now. The fact is, unless you know the future, no one knows the true ramifications of the
ir actions. You had your reasons at the time, correct?”
Tristan nodded, though he couldn’t say the lives of plants were worth the lives of people, and in the process, he probably killed more plants than he saved. No one benefited from his little tweak of nature.
Donovan gave him another firm shake. “We make the best decisions we can and we move on. There is no changing the past, only the gaining of experience for the next decision. Understand?”
Tristan nodded.
“Altering the course of a general weather pattern is unpredictable. I wouldn’t—”
“I won’t,” Tristan said. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t even consider what might happen, or even how much water the plants needed. If I’d thought about it—”
“I told you! There is no benefit in punishing yourself for what you could not have known. If it happens again, that’s another story. Because now you know better.”
Tristan gulped another bout of shame.
“There is nothing wrong with feeling remorse or guilt, then letting it go. Consider the possibility that this is a lesson that prevents you from wiping out an entire city at a later time, just because you ‘didn’t consider what might happen.’”
The perspective struck him as true and a weight on his shoulders lifted.
Donovan straightened and returned to the cockpit. “Where’s Pink? Don’t tell me she’s afraid to fly in this rat trap.”
“No,” Landon answered. “She’s staying with Dorian for a few hours. I’ll come back for her later.”
“Very well. There’s been a change of plans. We’re keeping this plane for now and we’re heading to my house instead of Anchorage.”
“You’re taking us to your actual house?” Landon and Victor exchanged stunned expressions. “Where exactly do you live?”
“I have an island in the outskirts of Okinawa. We should be there in ten hours, longer if we run into poor flying conditions. We won’t have to refuel if we make synthetics, so we’ll fly a straight line rather than following the land masses.”
