by Chris Cannon
Common sense dictated he ask why she was here in another dragon’s territory, but he couldn’t bring himself to do that. Instead, he tore his shirt into strips. “I will bind your wounds. What happens after that is up to you—”
“Nyana,” the girl responded. “My name is Nyana.”
Gray bound the lacerations on her arms. Resentment boiled inside of him at the thought of someone hurting such a beautiful creature. “Tell me of your injuries.”
“I was sent here to treatise with Wraith Nightshade, but he did not care to listen. I offered him jewels, which he readily took, but then he set his knights upon me. I escaped to this underwater dwelling where I planned to bide my time while I healed.”
Gray sat next to her on the rocks. “Then I will wait with you.”
While she didn’t send him away, she didn’t seem thrilled with his company. Over the next few hours, she made several demands. She required water, food, and a fire. Each of these tasks he performed without complaint. He’d no idea how many hours had passed when a man emerged from the water.
“There you are.” The man moved toward her with his sword at the ready.
From his belt, Gray grabbed the knife that he used to gut fish. “Who are you?”
“I’m the one who will end your life.” The man spat.
With the practice of a boy who’d grown up playing with his father’s knives, Gray flung the blade, burying it up to the hilt in the man’s right eye. He went down on the spot, sinking back into the water. While he should have felt bad at taking another’s life, all Gray felt was peace, as a warmth of purpose filled his soul. He turned to Nyana and sank down on one knee. “You will never face battle alone again, my lady.”
A day later, once she was able to travel, Nyana and Gray emerged from the lake. She moved in with his family while he brokered a peace with the ruling dragons, and they lived happily ever after.”
Valmont shut the book and looked at her expectantly.
“I get that the knight rescued the dragon, but the whole knife in the eye thing was a bit gruesome. Why is that story your favorite?”
Valmont chuckled. “Don’t you get it? A nobody saved a dragon, and they lived happily ever after. And just so you know, I can hit an apple with a steak knife at sixteen feet.”
“Okay…why do you know the exact measurement?”
Valmont grinned. “That’s how wide the kitchen is. My brother and I measured so we’d know how far we could throw.”
Bryn shook her head. “I’m sure your mother loved that.”
“Growing up around knives and swords, no one seemed to care as long as we didn’t upset the customers.”
“What other knightly things did you do growing up? Did you find any underwater caves in the lakes around Dragons Bluff?”
“No, but not for a lack of trying.” He frowned and flipped pages in the book until he came to a map. He laid the book out flat for Bryn to see. “We did spend time searching for treasure.”
The drawing showed a main street in a small town. Nearby, there was a group of stone buildings fenced off and guarded by knights. “Is that supposed to be a castle, or the Institute?” Bryn pointed at the drawings of the stone buildings.
“I always thought it was a castle.” Valmont traced his finger down a path. “But after being on campus, I can see this resembles the Institute, and that looks like the library.” He tapped the building with the treasure chest drawn on top of it.
Bryn pulled the book closer. “Is this one of those knowledge is a treasure analogies, or is there a story that goes with this map?”
“If I remember correctly, A Knight’s Errand goes with the map.”
Bryn turned pages until she found the correct story. “Do you remember what it’s about?”
“A knight goes to collect a payment that was due to the dragons of his village. He rescues knights from an evil dragon, or something like that.”
Bryn and Valmont read the story together. When they finished, she turned back to the map. “So the knight rescued people from evil dragons, here.” Goosebumps broke out on Bryn’s arms as she pointed to the Institute. “What does that mean?”
Valmont sat back and rubbed his chin. “I guess it means the people who wrote this book didn’t love the Directorate or the Institute. Maybe that’s why your library doesn’t house these books.”
Bryn’s heart sped up. “Do you think we’ll find some clues in here about things the Directorate doesn’t want us to find? Clues about hybrid dragons who aren’t evil?”
“Maybe.” He reached into the bag and pulled out the remaining books and laid them on the table. “If there are clues of some sort, we should probably start with the first book.”
Half an hour later, Bryn had read her fill of gruesome fairytales in which someone was always stabbing someone or gouging out their eyes. “Why are these so violent?”
“Aren’t all tales violent, like the Brothers Grimm?”
“I grew up on the Disney movies, not the gory original versions.” Bryn’s eyes teared up as she remembered evenings spent with her parents in front of the television, munching on popcorn. She took a shuddering breath.
“Come here.” Valmont opened his arms and pulled her into a hug. “I’d ask if there was anything I could do, but I know the answer already.”
“Just having you here makes it better.” And that was the truth.
He kissed the top of her head and then released her from the embrace. “Do you have any more ideas about the books?”
The tomes lay scattered on the table. She lined them up one through five. There was some sort of pattern stamped into the leather on the covers, but she couldn’t quite make it out. Turning her head to the side, she tried again. “Do the covers go together like a puzzle?”
Valmont leaned closer and ran his fingers over the embossed leather. “I’ve never seen all the books at once. Normally we only had access to one at a time.” He performed the same head tilt maneuver. “It seems like they should form some sort of pattern, but I can’t see it.”
“Let’s call Clint and Ivy. They’re the artists. They probably know how to see it differently than we do.”
…
Clint and Ivy knocked on the terrace window half an hour later and came inside.
“You look so much better.” Ivy hugged her friend. “Now what’s this art puzzle you want us to look at?”
Bryn hadn’t thought it wise to say too much over the phone. As they walked into the living room, she explained the situation. “Before you look at these books, you need to know the Directorate would not approve of us even having them.”
“Books? What books?” Clint asked as he picked volume one up off the coffee table and studied it. “You never asked us to look at any books. Is that how we’re going to play it?”
“Exactly.” She explained the origin of the tales and how they thought there might be a map to things the Directorate didn’t want them to find. “I’m hoping for some sort of secret message.” And that’s when she realized she hadn’t told Clint and Ivy about having proof other hybrids existed. She still wasn’t sure she should drag them any deeper into her quest.
Clint flipped volume two open and then spread it out flat so the front, back cover, and spine were one smooth piece of leather. “What if we turn them all like this?”
Ivy helped him open all the books and lay them flat. Then they shuffled the covers around. Bryn and Valmont sat back watching them move the tomes around like they were part of one of those slider puzzles where you move the pieces and line them up to make a picture.
“The top branches are missing.” Ivy walked around the coffee table.
“Branches?” Bryn asked.
“You have to stand off to the side to see it,” Ivy said.
Bryn joined her friend. From this angle, the imprints in the leather book covers lined up to create a tree trunk and some branches.
“Are there more books?” Clint asked.
“I don’t know,” Valmont said. “Wh
at would a tree mean? I can understand a road map, but a tree?”
“Wait a minute.” Ivy moved the books so they were two across and three down and then walked around the table in a circle. “Nope. I’ve got nothing.”
Clint squinted like he was concentrating. “This is going to make me crazy.”
“Glad I could share the insanity,” Bryn said.
In an odd maneuver, Valmont stepped up onto the couch. “If it’s different angles we’re wanting, we should consider all of them. Think outside of the box.”
Ding, a light went off in Bryn’s brain. “A box is like a treasure chest.”
“Are we shouting out random facts now?” Clint asked.
“No.” Bryn went over to the art displayed on the shelves by the library table and grabbed a small hinged box made of black and white marble. “Maybe the books can be placed together to form a cube.”
Ivy shook her head. “A cube has six square sides. Open like this, the books are rectangles.”
Miss Enid’s warning flashed in Bryn’s mind. “These are old, we need to handle them carefully.”
“So we shouldn’t duct tape them together to make a pirate chest?” Clint pretended to be serious.
“Probably not.” Valmont hopped down off the couch and picked up book one and book two, fitting the covers together like different sides of a box. “If we’re on the right track we should be able to see something when we fit these together the right way.”
“But if it’s a three-dimensional object, it can’t be a map,” Ivy said. “You’d never see all the sides at once.”
Clint rubbed his temples. “This is giving me a brain cramp.”
Chapter Eleven
Skipping two days of classes seemed to have multiple consequences, like extra homework and people staring at her like they had when she’d first come to school. She hadn’t missed that level of scrutiny and wasn’t happy to have it back.
“What is everyone’s problem?” Bryn asked as she walked on the treadmill in Basic Movement.
Valmont ran on the treadmill next to her, not breaking a sweat. “We are a curiosity.”
“I wish we could fly today.” Something inside of her ached to shift and take flight, but Mrs. Anderson refused to let her fly until she had clearance from a medic.
“After classes today, why don’t we find Medic Williams and ask her for a note, so you’ll be able to fly tomorrow.”
“Or we could go flying tonight.” Bryn increased the speed on her treadmill to a jog.
“Sorry, I’m siding with the authorities on this. If you need more time to recover, then that’s what you’ll have.”
She glared at him.
“That look doesn’t work on me.” He grinned. Then the corners of his mouth turned down.
“What?” Bryn checked the area for whatever had made him frown. Jaxon stalked in their direction. Great.
When he reached her, he smacked the button to turn off her treadmill. “You need to joust or do something to show everyone you aren’t weak.”
Valmont turned his treadmill off and moved to stand at Bryn’s side. “You need to work on your manners.”
Jaxon didn’t even acknowledge Valmont. “I’m trying to help you.”
“Why?” It was a serious question.
“Because I don’t like being associated with anyone who is weak,” Jaxon snapped.
Now she understood. “You went from caring and concerned to a self-centered asshat in one sentence.”
“You do realize your opinion of me means nothing.” Jaxon stepped closer. “Go do something to prove you’re not spineless.”
He’d crossed a line. “I could start by blasting you across the room.”
“You could try,” Jaxon said. “But you wouldn’t succeed.”
The desire to shoot a fireball at his head had flames crawling up the back of her throat.
Valmont put his arm around her shoulders. “He’s an idiot, but he knows how his Clan thinks. Let’s go practice with broad swords.”
“Fine.” Bryn let Valmont guide her toward the lockers where the equipment was kept.
Valmont squeezed her shoulders. “You do realize, when you face off with Jaxon, you won’t be doing it alone.”
She wanted to argue but knew that would hurt his feelings, so she nodded in acknowledgment. Why did it feel like she was lying to him?
Valmont opened several lockers until he found what he wanted. Pulling a set of rapiers from the locker, he frowned. “Are these toothpicks the only blades they have?”
Bryn chuckled. “Jaxon and his friends have trained with those since they were five. I think your broadsword is a much better weapon.”
“Agreed. But for the Bryn-is-still-a-badass show, I guess we’ll use these.”
“I like the sound of that. It would look good on a T-shirt.”
Valmont pointed toward the ring. “After you, Ms. Badass.”
“Does that make you Mr. Badass?” Bryn asked.
He grinned. “I think it does.”
Once in the ring, Bryn faced off with Valmont, which felt weird. “I’m not sure we can—” He came toward her swinging his sword in a wide arc. She blocked it with her sword. “Hey!”
“Showtime.” Valmont’s eyes darted to the side.
A crowd was gathering. Fan-freaking-tastic. Ignoring the crowd, she shoved Valmont’s sword back, forcing him to retreat. He came at her, and she blocked. She swung at him, and he dodged the blow. Faster and faster, they dueled. The sound of wooden sword clacking against wooden sword played out like a song. The fact that she hadn’t been able to touch Valmont with her sword both irritated her and made her proud. Her knight had skills.
His sword whizzed by her shoulder. Too close. She focused on pushing him back. Sweat ran between her shoulder blades. He held his ground, giving little. She raised her sword and brought it down with all her might, he blocked and crack half his sword was gone.
She stopped wide-eyed. Valmont held out his stubby sword. “I think you won.”
The crowd around the ring drifted away. Jaxon caught her eye and gave a nod of approval. She reined in the instinct to roll her eyes or flip him off. Instead, she gave a curt nod back.
When she made eye contact with Valmont, his jaw muscle was clenched. “What’s wrong?”
“I hate that Jaxon was right.”
Bryn laughed. If that didn’t prove they were meant for each other, nothing would.
Ivy bounded over toward Bryn as she and Valmont climbed out of the ring. Clint trailed along behind his girlfriend with a sappy grin on his face.
“Are you going to stagecraft tonight?” Ivy asked.
Stagecraft meant Nola and Zavien. She couldn’t let Valmont think Zavien still bothered, her, because he didn’t. She was over him, romantically, but Nola and her flowing flowery dresses still annoyed the crap out of her.
“Of course I’m going. I can’t leave Rhianna to paint substandard scenery by herself.” Unless Rhianna wasn’t coming back. Scenery falling from the rafters had injured Rhianna’s spinal cord, which resulted in the limp, which had ended her marriage contract to Jaxon. “If she’s coming back…should I ask her if she’s going?”
“You’re going whether she does or not, right?” Clint said.
Bryn nodded.
“Then I wouldn’t call her out on it in front of Jaxon. You know he’ll have a strong opinion one way or another.”
“And he does love to hear himself talk,” Valmont said. “If Rhianna isn’t there tonight, I can help you paint.”
“Cool.” It might be immature, but Bryn couldn’t wait to see the look on Zavien’s face when she walked in with Valmont.
When they reached the theater, there was a sign taped across the door.
Clint flicked the piece of paper with his finger. “No more stagecraft until the theater is repaired? Couldn’t they let us know before tonight?”
“Maybe they thought it would be ready in time,” Bryn said.
“It’s weird.” Clint
ruffled his Mohawk. “Why didn’t someone send out an email explaining it was canceled?”
Not having to deal with Nola was a relief, so Bryn wasn’t complaining. “Want to come back to my room and hang out?”
“It’s not nearly as much fun now that Jaxon won’t be there to irritate,” Clint said.
“We could call and invite Rhianna to join us. I’d bet anything Jaxon would insist on coming with her,” Valmont said.
“Please, an evening without Jaxon is fine with me.” Bryn grabbed her knight’s hand. “Let’s go.”
Back in her room, Clint and Ivy sprawled out on the floor while she and Valmont sat on the couch.
“So, everything is good between you two now?” Clint pointed at Bryn and Valmont.
Ivy whacked her boyfriend on the shoulder. “We had a plan. What part of, ‘don’t badger Bryn for answers’ did you not understand?”
“That’s such a girl way of doing things. Guys straight-out ask.” He grinned at Valmont. “Fill us in.”
“Do you mind?” Valmont asked.
“Go ahead.” Better for him to fill in the blanks, because she wasn’t sure what to say. Something, like, “Valmont will stick by my side no matter what, because he doesn’t want to kill me.” That wasn’t fair.
Valmont scratched his chin. “You know that old saying ‘Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me?’ It turns out, if you’re bonded to someone, words can hurt worse than any weapon. We found that out the hard way.”
Rather than comforting her, his words piled on the guilt.
“So you guys are stuck together now, like forever?” Clint asked.
Ivy whacked him harder on the shoulder. “Why would you say that? They aren’t stuck together. They like each other. They want to be together.”
Time to jump in with both feet, because at this point there was no turning back. “Ivy’s right. This is a good thing. Kind of like when your marriage contract to Ivy is approved, you’ll be together forever, but you won’t feel like you’re stuck. Right?”
“That’s what I meant in the first place.” Clint leaned back on his elbows. “Girls are so sensitive. Back me up here, Valmont.”
