by Toni Kerr
He didn’t have time for curiosity, or did he? He hovered in place to listen carefully. Their call wasn’t for him to return, it was a message to beware.
Beware what? Maybe the waterhole wasn’t such a safe place to go, if the peaceful truce was no longer in effect? But he was a dragon. Was he becoming too comfortable in that knowledge? Maybe it would only get him so far.
The air crackled around him. Pure power. Above, a blinding swirl of blue and gold light sucked him out of the desert sky.
26
ALPHA
TRISTAN STOOD ON A circular platform, surrounded by an audience of thousands. He recognized some of the nearer faces from Samara’s cave and from Donovan’s island, but most he had never seen before. Behind him on the same platform, the council sat in a small section of seats. Were they united again? Where did that leave him?
He blinked with confusion in the deathly-still silence; the falcon was gone.
Everything was gone, just like that. Anger surged through every limb, and a sense of relief that he hadn’t lost his wings.
I am Andros. A tall man with long robes stood from his chair.
I don’t care about your politics— Tristan froze midsentence when the audience started cheering. Some clapped and others stomped their feet. The facility, whatever it was made of, rumbled with a deep vibration. He frowned at the crowd. Maybe he should pull back his assumptions. I don’t understand.
You have the full support of the Seraphim Council, Andros said, almost too softly to hear.
What? He wasn’t about to be manipulated by the council after everything he’d gone through to find Jacques. Before, you said I was a disgrace to you all, and I have not changed my mind about releasing the races.
The man nodded, straightening his shoulders.
You want me to release them?
It goes against my gut intuition, but sometimes these situations cannot be foreseen.
So, you’re giving me permission...and you accept that the contract will be broken?
Andros nodded, as did everyone sitting in the council section. Perhaps we are fooling ourselves to think the magical races will have a better chance at surviving if we wait. In a hundred years, the state of the Earth stands to be a thousand times worse than it is now.
Okay. That certainly made things easier. So why put Jacques in danger? Where is he now?
Jacques suggested that if we could know the real you...we might have more faith. He made the sacrifice to have you tested.
Tested how? His anger returned and ‘sacrifice’ didn’t sound very promising.
We are all manipulated by our environments and the people around us. We, as a council, couldn’t respect you in the conditions you were in, so Jacques suggested putting you in different conditions. One in which you weren’t in agony all the time, with a poisoned shoulder. One where you weren’t afraid you might kill your closest friends. One where your decisions weren’t swayed by the opinions of those who control your survival. One where you weren’t forced to carry the burden of seven magical beings, whom fight amongst themselves for dominance. Andros waved his hand and a table materialized with seven glass containers, each glowing with shades from green to blue to purple.
Those are part of me?
In a way, yes. It’s a life essence that will sustain each race upon release. You cannot keep this power; but it does mingle with your own.
So when I release the gems, each power will go back into whatever being it belongs to?
Yes. We believe the moment the energy is reunited with its corresponding owner, it will no longer be connected with you in any way. No one anticipated the long-term effects of taking on the power from other races. But it is our hope that with this understanding, you will better cope with keeping it under control.
Food doesn’t have anything to do with it?
Andros shook his head and smiled. We think when you are sated, you are perhaps more at ease emotionally, and these wills whom are not your own begin vying for recognition. But you would be wise not to starve yourself, as you will soon discover that being a dragon, or flying like you have, takes an enormous amount of energy.
Tristan nodded. Will the wings stay with me? He almost didn’t want to know the answer—they would be both a burden and a blessing.
It was once suggested that a dragon could maintain a half form, so my guess would be that the wings are up to you to keep or destroy. This ability to create a true thing from nothing is yours—not something you gained by acquiring additional sources of energy. We must add that, even before this test of character, we were very much swayed by your little pixie friend; an ability to create something so authentic is a rare quality, and one we could not claim as an accidental fluke. That, and, as Jacques once said, ‘A great dragon does not simply poof into existence, he must do whatever is necessary to survive until such a time.’
We saw you as weak, ignorant, and submissive to the wrong people. These are not characteristics we can stand behind as a Designated Alpha, yet we had little choice at the time. Someone in the council area cleared his throat. Andros smiled. We concede we were wrong. An alpha must know when it is appropriate to step into his role, and when it is best to remain unimpressive and easily forgotten, lest he become a target too soon.
It was foolish of us to force you, and then judge your inability to sustain the position at our level of expectation. Especially when you had no knowledge or desire to fulfill this need of ours. But, what’s done is done.
I’m not an alpha. Maybe it wasn’t too late to fix things. Jacques is an alpha, Molajah, Donovan, and you, apparently. Who cared if his tone sounded a bit condescending?
I might be an alpha here, but I am dead to you. Donovan could have been an alpha, and has taken on the role for others, but he gave up too much of his real self to be your alpha. Therefore, you have no true alpha. It is what leaves you unsettled and unbalanced, without purpose or direction—the qualities we misjudged you for.
When you are a true alpha, it’s who you are. How do we know? You did not have to fight for status in the Netherlands, it was simply a fact. And before you say, ‘only because a dragon is higher in the pecking order’, know there is a difference when it comes to submission and respect, in gaining loyalty and support for your personal needs. Do you understand?
Tristan nodded, then shook his head. I’m not going up against Donovan.
You do not understand. Andros sighed. Just like the bears and cougars and coyotes all have their own alpha, you are not competing with Donovan. And the small bit of dragon that is left in him has already submitted to you.
How do you know?
Because he keeps you alive. You provide him balance, direction, and the hope that he will not always have to pretend he is alpha. He has trained himself to fill the role, but it isn’t who he is.
Oh. Tristan cast his gaze downward, suddenly exhausted. He could never hope to do the same job Donovan did.
You still do not understand. But one day soon, you will. Do you have other questions, while we have you here?
Tristan thought carefully. After the contract was broken, he would have no source for information. It’s been implied many times that I wasn’t the only dragon, just the most convenient.
Andros raised his eyebrows when the silence grew too long. Yes? The question?
I would like to know who they are and where they can be found.
Andros lifted his hands in the air and the crowd cheered. Tristan shook his head, unsure how he could ask a different way. Well, once you’re all gone, any records you have...it would be very helpful if you could just tell me. Andros turned his back on Tristan, frustrating him a bit more. A search would go much quicker....
Ladies and Gentlemen, I present our Designated Alpha for the Living Realm. May his judgment be honest and true, his punishment swift and fair, and let him not be led astray by the greed of human nature. Let there be peace and compassion in the hearts of those who desire it.” Andros herded Tristan off the platform.
You were designated by default. Now, we fully support you as such, and your question is precisely what I’d expect from an alpha. Let us hope that memory of yours will serve you well this day.
Tristan frowned. Where are we going?
The record room.
27
UNDENIABLE
TRISTAN APPEARED ON Dorian’s rocky beach by the lake. Her mouth fell open at the sight of him. Landon and Donovan were standing side by side, eyes wide. And Oliver. What was Oliver doing here?
His shoulder radiated pain down his back; sharper with each breath. He’d forgotten how to tune it out, and couldn’t quite pull himself mentally away. Chills rushed his skin, burnt to a crisp.
But Donovan...he should have been down in the training room, unreachable. Oliver certainly wasn’t here when he’d scouted the area for transporting. It should have been just Landon and Dorian. Unless he wasn’t remembering things right after so much time.
“I told you he was coming here,” Dorian said, her eyes fixed on something just over his shoulders.
Tristan swayed on his feet, automatically lifting his wings to counter the shift. But they hung limp on the ground, pinning him to the spot. He’d need a few more minutes to absorb what happened.
Donovan and Landon rushed toward him, probably assuming he’d faint. He would not. “How long?” he whispered. In the brief moment of eye contact with Donovan, the man’s soul was perfectly clear—a mutation of several fierce beings, but none as strong as what was left of his dragon side. The man gambled for something more and had lost. He would never be whole.
Donovan turned away, withdrawing a sliver of shame before it was fully realized. “Ten minutes,” he replied. “Is that what I think it is?” He moved to take the feathered bundle, still bound in Tristan’s sweaty T-shirt. “Give him to me.”
Tristan tensed, careful not to squeeze the bird too tight.
“You smell like...mountain lion. And coyote. Where have you been?”
The knowledge of carrying real scents on his skin filled his chest with happiness. And relief. Even if he never saw any of them again, they existed! And he...he’d assumed the role of alpha. His soaring heart plunged. He was not ready to be an alpha in this world. In this world, he was nothing.
He tried to hand the falcon to Donovan, barely able to move his arms. Donovan seemed to notice and quickly took the bundle, passing the bird off to Landon. He would have objected, but Landon was already taking it to Dorian, and they were laying the bird on the ground, unwrapping the shirt.
They all knew how important the bird was, he didn’t have to warn them to be careful.
“...and bear.”
Tristan looked up at Donovan, baffled at why he wasn’t more interested in the falcon’s health. Was it already too late?
“Lean on me...carried...sensitive are the wings? ...not be on the ground.”
He was being lowered to a narrow cot with a soft, intensely white mattress. He resisted for an instant, fearing he’d been transported somewhere new, and that Donovan might not think about keeping the wings. But they were still tugging at his back—he tucked the right one tight to his side, but the left barely moved. Was it selfish to wonder if he could still fly with his mangled shoulder? Had Dorian given up on finding a cure like he had?
Beside him, a white awning shaded her and Landon as they used an eyedropper to drip water into the falcon’s mouth.
There had to be a difference between passing out and taking a quick nap.
Tristan woke just as the dusk faded to night, and sat facing the voices, swinging his feet to the rocky ground. His wings maneuvered out of his way easily enough, though getting the blanket untangled from the upper joints proved to be a little awkward.
Landon, Dorian, Victor, and Alvi sat in canvas folding chairs around a fire pit, silent and wary. He averted his gaze and stood, then walked down to the water’s edge. A full moon shined brightly above the trees on the far side of the lake, mirrored on glassy surface.
He rolled his shoulder and tested the strength in his back for the left wing. He could fly for a few minutes at least...hopefully far enough to get him to the lookout mountain above the cliff house. He lifted his wings, preparing a strong pull, when a voice stopped him. “We need to talk.”
His wings deflate as Donovan stepped in beside him. Tristan rubbed at his forehead and temples—he was still sandy and sticky from the desert.
“It seemed these scents were important, and I saw no need to wash them off for you.”
“Thank you.” Tristan closed his eyes and took in the entire island. Wesley, Dorian’s elk, was near the eastern end of the island, bedding down for the night in a meadow of tall grass. Two people were sitting at a table in one household, and someone slept in a tent behind Dorian’s cabin. The falcon was lying on a table with a large cage around him, but breathing steady.
“Will you tell me where you were?”
“The desert.”
“I was hoping for more than that.”
“I need to process it first.”
Donovan nodded. “We have approximately a hundred and forty-two locations to investigate, twenty-three of which—”
“He won’t like being in a cage.”
“He can transport himself out.”
“I hope so.”
“Are you implying he can’t?” Donovan’s tone grew louder with anger. “I need to know what is going on right now. What have they done?”
Tristan frowned at the upside down version of the sky reflected in the lake and tried to come up with something to tell.
“Start with the wings if you can’t remember how it started.”
“We had a deal—if I could find the falcon, they’d send us both home. And I did, but that doesn’t mean...and they said Jacques made a sacrifice, but never clarified.”
“What sort of deal?”
“I just wanted Jacques back—”
“I already told you he wouldn’t want to be used like this.”
“I know, but what was I supposed to do?”
Donovan narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms.
“They said even if I failed at finding him, I would just be sent home and could carry on with releasing the races, and they would let me.”
“Of course they will. They have no power to stop you.”
Tristan rubbed his arms and focused on the reflected moon. “Well, at least all the ghosts wouldn’t have to pick sides if the council gave up arguing about something they can’t control, right?”
“Very noble,” Donovan said sarcastically. “So they tricked you into a desert, where you were trapped for several days.”
“There wasn’t any other option, and I couldn’t just...turn my back on Jacques, could I? So I found him....”
“And?”
Tristan gulped and glanced over his shoulder to make sure the gang wasn’t listening. “And they made me the designated alpha and gave me their full blessing to carry on with what we were planning.”
Donovan’s eyes widened for an instant. “They were already doing that.”
“Only because they couldn’t stop me, like you said. But before, they wanted me to realize that I alone would be the one responsible for destroying the world, and in doing so, I would be the one to disgrace the memory of all dragons. But it wouldn’t matter too terribly much, because after the contract is broken, they won’t be around to feel the shame.”
“I see. And, because you fought mountain lions and bears and coyotes, they suddenly support your decision to destroy the world?”
“I didn’t fight them and I don’t know what made them reconsider. But now they believe the environmental conditions will be a thousand times worse in a hundred years, and that maybe we’re on the right track to release the races now, while there’s still time to make changes and survive.”
“If you didn’t fight, how did you trick them into believing you were alpha? That’s n
ot usually how it works.”
“I didn’t! They made a mistake. I don’t even want to be alpha—” Tristan glanced over his shoulder again. Maybe humiliating himself would prove he’d somehow manipulated the situation, that he was clearly not alpha material, and Donovan would just laugh instead of sounding so insulted by the idea. “I’ll show you.”
Rather than letting Donovan in his head, Tristan played out the events on the moonlit surface of the water. Throwing colors together was easier than he thought it would be, and he started the retelling with when he first sensed an animal in the distance, running on instinct to hunt until he could fly. It seemed even more immature now, giving up survival and food for playtime.
The memories flowed easily, and it was a relief to know the animals were firmly ingrained in his mind. He almost forgot to cut off the vision when the swirling hole opened above him in the sky. The echo of coyote howls still lingered on the lake, filling him once again with dread and the need to beware.
Landon, Dorian, Victor, and Alvi were standing behind him. And behind them, Oliver, Eric, and Philip. Shame and embarrassment made the muscles in his legs and arms quiver. His wings tensed, preparing to launch.
“No, Tristan.” Donovan grabbed his shoulders.
“Don’t you think it’s embarrassing enough? I didn’t need an audience.” He glared at Victor and Landon. “Where’s Pink?”
“She’s with Ardon, one of the elder trees.” Landon pointed across the lake.
“Who is Pink?” Oliver asked.
“No one,” said Dorian. “Just a plant Tristan wanted me to nurse back to health.”
“Do you have any idea what this means?” Donovan asked.
“Yes! It means as soon as they find out I was only playing along to get more information, they’ll come after me. All of us. We should break that contract as soon as possible.”
“What information did you get that could be so bad?”
“Well, everyone was suddenly on my side. It was easy. I just asked. And why wouldn’t I? Once they’re gone, everything they know about everything will be gone with them.”
