by Megg Jensen
"May I speak?" the woman standing in the corner of the room said. One of Adara's assistants, she had remained silent thus far, so much so that Tressa had forgotten she was still in there.
"Yes, please," Tressa said, smoothing the fabric over her hips. "If you know where the sheath is that goes under the dress, I'd be forever grateful." She laughed. "I certainly can't appear like this in front of everyone."
The woman glided across the room, her feet hidden under a long expanse of silk. She almost appeared to float. She straightened Tressa's dress, helping it drape across her shoulders better. "This is the full dress. There is no sheath."
Tressa looked in the mirror again. Her nipples peeked through the golden gossamer. "Oh no. There must be some mistake."
"Here in the Sands, we are not ashamed of our bodies or our sexuality. When you marry, it does not signal the end of relations with the person you love. Instead, it shows everyone in attendance exactly why you have chosen one another."
"Will Jarrett also be in something just as transparent?" Tressa asked, a blush coloring her cheeks. She'd seen him naked once before when she'd spied on the Black Guard through the bushes as they'd bathed. She hadn't shied away, instead, she'd taken a guilty moment to enjoy the view.
The woman shook her head. "No." A smile graced her face. "Though he will wear very tight pants, leaving little to the imagination." Her hand rested on Tressa's shoulder. She stood nearly a head taller than Tressa, her face hovering above Tressa's in the mirror. "Are you afraid he will find you lacking?"
Tressa couldn't help but notice the difference between her body and that of the woman behind her. Where the assistant was tall, Tressa was short. Where she was curvy, Tressa was straight. The woman's skin glowed, but Tressa's was covered in scratches. Even her lips were still chapped. She remembered Jarrett's insistent kisses. What did he see when he looked at her?
"Jacinda is a beautiful woman and a queen," the woman went on, "but she has a temper that would give even the most lustful man pause. Jarrett has satisfied her for a long time. We attendants see what really goes on. She never fully satisfied Jarrett. He has been looking for a long time, and I believe he has found the one woman who can fulfill him."
She kissed Tressa on the cheek, her full lips soft. "You will serve him well, Tressa of the Drowned Country."
Tressa held her hands at her side, her fingers curled into fists. "May I have a few moments to myself before the ceremony?"
The woman nodded and took her leave. It was only then Tressa realized she hadn't asked the woman her name. She shook her head and sank into a nearby settee. Her hair fell around her face, tickling her cheeks. She still wasn't used to the extensions they'd woven into her hair.
"What have I gotten myself into?" Tressa asked out loud. All this to protect the lives of people she couldn't wait to be away from mere months ago.
Everything had spiraled out of control. Her feelings for Bastian were still there, but slowly Jarrett was creeping in on them. She cared for him, and she hoped it wouldn't turn into anything more than strong feelings of friendship. A slight attraction and nothing more.
A knock interrupted her thoughts. "Come in," Tressa said. She crossed her arms across her chest.
Jarrett stepped in and quickly closed the door behind him. He avoided looking at her. Instead his eyes settled above her shoulders. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable, but I had to come."
"That's nice of you to check in on me." She felt exposed and wished she had a cloak to wrap around her body. All of her other promised garments were in Jarrett's quarters, waiting for her after the wedding.
Jarrett smiled. "Did Karina tell you what happens before the wedding?"
Tressa shook her head. "Just that I needed to get dressed." She laughed. "If you call this getting dressed. I feel a tad overexposed."
"That type of gown is traditional. I know things are bit more conservative in the Drowned Country than they are here." Jarrett sat down on the settee, still managing to avoid looking at Tressa.
She sat down next to him, her legs crossed and her arms still folded over her chest. "And in Hutton's Bridge, even more so. When your village relies on sex for procreation and not love, then sex becomes a chore."
"It's not like that here. Not at all." Jarrett's voice washed over her like a warm rain.
He had far more experience than she did. Other than her last time with Bastian, she hadn't known what it was like to be with a man for the sake of lust.
Jarrett rested a hand on her knee. Tingles traveled up to Tressa's chest.
"In the Sands, a man and a woman make love just before their marriage ceremony. That's why I'm here."
Tressa turned to look at Jarrett. His eyes were still trained on the window across the room. She wanted to answer him but wasn't sure how. She'd promised to go through with the ceremony in hopes of gaining the queen's help and favor. She'd made it clear to Jarrett that she couldn't promise anything more than friendship. Why did he continue to torture her so?
Her heart beat erratically. A throbbing between her legs screamed at her. Tressa pushed it all aside.
"If I didn't come to you before the ceremony, there would be talk. Jacinda would demand more answers. We must keep up the ruse," he said.
Tressa closed her eyes. All she could see was Jarrett naked near the pond back in the Drowned Country. She forced her eyes opened and stared at the wall.
"We'll sit here and wait until it's time to leave for the ceremony." Jarrett's hand tightened on her knee, the pressure gentle, but insistent. "But before we go out, I would like to kiss you one more time. But only if you want me to." He focused his eyes on hers.
"That would be a good idea," Tressa heard herself say without thinking it through first. "If they're expecting us to make love before coming out, we should at least look like we've done something. Flushed cheeks. Swollen lips. It wouldn't be convincing without them."
Jarrett leaned in slowly until Tressa could feel his breath on her face. "Are you sure?"
Tressa laced her fingers in his hair, pulling his face to hers. She held back at first, but the chaste kiss quickly gave way to opened lips and exploring tongues. Jarrett's hand crept up her leg, coming to rest at her hip, his thumb in the curve where her abdomen met her leg. Tressa leaned in closer, her chest pressing against Jarrett's shirt.
Jarrett's other hand rested just under her breast. He pulled back. "We should stop. I won't force you into something you don't want."
Tressa's arms tightened around his back. She didn't want to let him go. She didn't want to stop. Instead, she let her head fall on his shoulder. She didn't have the words for him. She couldn't tell him no, but she wouldn't allow herself to tell him yes.
He seemed to understand, wrapping his arms around her. "We'll just sit here until it's time. It won't be long now." He pointed out the window. "See, the sun is setting. It is almost time."
Tears threatened to spill, to give away everything she was feeling. Instead she used her emotions as a dam, waiting for what seemed like ages for another knock at the door, telling them it was time for the ceremony.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
"Look, over there," Elinor shouted over her shoulder to Bastian. Her hair, whipping in the wind, slapped Bastian in the face. "There are some people!"
Bastian squinted down through the trees. She was right. There were people in Hutton's Bridge! Those damn healers had lied to him. Bastian dug his heels into the dragon's sides. Connor began his careful descent with Bastian and Elinor holding on tight. Bastian wished there had been time to rig some kind of harness, but everything had happened so fast. Instead, he and Elinor could only clutch Connor's scales.
Soon they were on the ground, landing in the middle of the town square. Bastian slid off Connor's back, eager to soothe the fear his townspeople must feel at the sight of another dragon landing in their village. He held out his arms to Elinor. She slipped into his embrace. He tossed her a quick smile and then let her go. While Elinor smoothed out her dr
ess, Bastian jogged to Connor's head. "Thank you, old friend."
Connor snorted in response.
Bastian turned to face his people, only to realize he didn't know anyone standing in front of him. Many of them had skin darker than anyone in Hutton's Bridge, reminding him of Jarrett's foreign appearance. "Who are you?" Bastian asked.
One man broke away from the group and headed over, his hand outstretched. "You must be the new leader at the Blue. I am Avital, head of this expedition sent by the Yellow Queen of the Sands to investigate the ghost town of Hutton's Bridge. I assume you are here for the same?"
Bastian took the man's hand and gave it a firm shake. "The people are gone?" He didn't bother to confirm or deny his leadership position. He barely felt like a leader anyway.
Avital shook his head. "Our own head of the guard, Jarrett, returned to Risos with his betrothed. They told us the story of the missing villagers and we were sent to investigate. Are you here for the same reason?"
"We are." Elinor held out a hand to him. "I am Elinor of the Healers Guild of Ashoom."
Avital bowed low, holding her hand in his. "Upon you be peace, healer."
"You may rise," Elinor said, and the man complied.
Bastian raised an eyebrow, but didn't say a word. He'd have to ask her about it later. He didn't realize he should have been bowing to her all the time. She was so tiny, he wasn't sure he'd be able to without falling down.
Avital looked over at Connor, lazing in the center of town. “Our dragons have flown off to the nearest pond, over to the northeast, if your dragon would like to join them for a drink.”
Bastian motioned to Connor. He flew off in the direction Avital had indicated.
"Have you figured out what direction the villagers of Hutton's Bridge went?" Elinor asked, taking charge of the situation. It was just as well. Bastian felt out of his element.
"Went?" Avital laughed. "They've all been dead for decades. No one could have survived in that fog. We're here simply to investigate." He motioned to his men fanned out around the entire village. "As you see, we've recovered nothing. It's just as well. We're anxious to get back to Risos. There's a wedding tonight, and if we can make it there tonight, there may still be some feast food for us to eat."
"A wedding, how wonderful," Elinor said.
Bastian's eyes followed the men walking in and out of cottages as if nothing inside mattered. It did. This was his village, his home, and his people were missing. But giving himself away wouldn't help matters. "Perhaps I'll have a look around myself," he mumbled.
"Won't do any good," Avital said. "We've been over every inch of this ghost town. No sign of inhabitants. Nothing. It's just as we always thought. Hutton's Bridge is dead."
Bastian shrugged and made his way over to his own cottage, looking for any indication of his daughter or any of the other villagers. He opened the door to his daughter's tiny bedroom, half expecting to see Farah sitting on her bed, swinging her chubby little legs over the edge. Instead, the bed lay disheveled covered by a moth-eaten blanket. He picked it up, bringing the cloth to his nose. Before he could take a deep inhalation, a cloud of dust assaulted him.
Bastian threw the blanket down on the bed and spun around angrily. Everything was wrong. Someone had made it look like Hutton's Bridge was dead, but it wasn't. He knew his people had to be somewhere. They couldn't just vanish.
He left his cottage and looked back toward Connor, who’d flown back in, his snout wet. He was lying quietly at the edge of the village, not disturbing anyone, his cobalt tail twitching back and forth.
Elinor was deep in conversation with Avital. Her lips had lost their regular smile, and the glimmer in her eyes was gone. She ventured a quick glance at Bastian. The sadness in her eyes struck him. He hurried back to them. "Are you okay, Elinor?"
She looked up at him. "Yes, I am. Avital here was just telling me about the wedding taking place tonight in the Sands."
"The head of our guard, Jarrett, is marrying the mystery bride he brought back with him from Ashoom. Perhaps you know her? Tressa. She has long brown hair and a quick smile. Not the type of woman I predicted Jarrett would fall for, but I guess we never know until we meet someone special."
Bastian struggled to maintain an even face. His instincts told him to grab Avital by the collar and shake information out of him. Instead, he turned to Elinor. "As friends who trade by sea, I think it would be appropriate if we flew in for this wedding, don't you, Healer Elinor?" he asked, using her formal title just as Avital had.
"I don't know if that's a good idea, Bastian. We haven't received an invitation." She shook her head, her blond curls falling over her shoulders.
Avital laughed. "No invitation needed. Queen Jacinda would be happy to see you there. Now that the fog is gone, it's time for the dragonlords to reconcile. Particularly now that the awful Stacia is dead. I'm happy to see the Blue has a new leader. Jacinda will be too. You should go."
"How long will it take us to fly there?" Bastian asked Avital, ignoring Elinor's insistent tugging on his arm.
"Most of the day, I suspect," Avital said, rubbing his goatee. "If you leave now, you should arrive just in time for the wedding."
Bastian shook Avital's hand. "Thank you so much for letting me know. I'll tell your queen how accommodating her men are."
They exchanged quick pleasantries. Avital gave Bastian a map with landmarks to guide them to Risos. But Bastian’s mind was already in Risos. He had to see for himself if Tressa had truly left him for Jarrett.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Connor glided with the wind, his wings outspread, and the sun glinting off his cobalt scales. Bastian and Elinor hadn't spoken since leaving Hutton’s Bridge. They'd been flying for ages with no end in sight. Underneath them sand spread out in every direction. Bastian didn't understand how anyone could live in such an unforgiving landscape. The heat alone was enough to sour the trip. The sun burned his skin and the wind only served to deepen the pain.
In front of him, Elinor kept her head covered with her hood and her head bowed to her chest. She hadn't moved in so long. He wanted to lean over and whisper in her ear. Ask if she'd ever been to the Sands before or what they could expect upon landing. But her anger at his decision to fly to the Sands cautioned him to hold his tongue.
His eyelids drifted closed, but he forced them open again. If he fell asleep, he'd fall to his death. He focused on the land below him, sand stretching in all directions. A small patch of green caught his eye, and he forgot his pledge to leave Elinor be.
"Do you see that?" he yelled in her ear, pointing toward the strange island of green sitting in the sea of sand
Elinor nodded. "It's an oasis. It might be a good idea to take a break. They should accept us since Connor is with us."
Bastian nudged Connor with his heels. The long neck swung around and Connor's huge brown eyes looked at Bastian. Bastian pointed again toward the oasis. Connor nodded his head and swooped to the side.
The green rushed toward them with the slowing beat of Connor's wings. Bastian guessed his friend had to be tired from all the flying. The break would do them all good.
Connor landed carefully just outside the oasis on a hot patch of sand. Bastian slid down and reached up for Elinor.
Instead of slipping into his arms, she turned onto her stomach and slid down Connor, landing firmly on her feet. She squared her shoulders and faced him. "Let me lead the way. The people of the Sands are accustomed to strong female leaders."
Without waiting for a response, Elinor turned on one heel. She headed toward the oasis, her hands held out in front of her, palms up. "We come in peace, asking for hospitality."
Two guards stepped out of a nearby tent, their long, curved swords at the ready. "Speak your intentions."
"We ask only for a few moments of rest. Water for the two of us and for our dragon. We come from Ashoom and are headed toward Risos for the wedding."
A smile spread across the guard's dark face, his white teeth gleaming in the
harsh sunlight. "Ah yes, Jarrett is to be married today. He and his bride passed through here just days ago. A strange girl. Not so beautiful."
Bastian's memory of Tressa hadn't dulled. She was the most beautiful woman in Hutton's Bridge. Perhaps a bit rough around the edges, but she was the only woman he'd ever really loved.
The guard shrugged. "But who can say why love strikes as it does." He sheathed his sword and held out an arm toward them. "Come and know our hospitality. We will supply you with what you require."
Elinor flashed Bastian a quick smile. It fell from her face as quickly as it had appeared.
Bastian held out a hand to her, willing to be her escort. Elinor chose to walk next to him without touching. He glanced at her again, wondering what could have made her hold back. From the moment they'd met, she had let her feelings fly free, but now she seemed closed. Women. He would never understand them.
The guard led them into a tent. The wall was covered in shimmering blue silks. A fan of feathers moved up and down above them, allowing them slight relief from the heat. Bastian looked longingly at the pillows on the floor. They beckoned, promising a quiet place to nap. Instead of giving into his exhaustion, he reached out a hand to accept the cup of water offered to him by a woman who'd entered the tent behind them.
A cool liquid streamed down the back of his throat, coating it with a soft, sweet syrup. "What is this?"
"Nectar." The woman's thick accent surprised him, along with the flowing locks of brown hair down to her waist. Her skin, as pale as his, stood out amongst the dark skinned people of the Sands. "It will not only sate your thirst, but it will also fortify you for the remainder of your journey."
"That's enough," the guard said. He didn't strike her, but his tone implied punishment if she dared speak again. She slunk out of the room, her chin dipped and her head low. "I am sorry. She does not yet know her place. The women from the Meadowlands are pliable after some time. She will learn her place."
"Is she a slave?" Elinor asked, taking a second sip from her cup.
