Desolation (Dragonlands Book 4)

by Megg Jensen

  "It's obvious I'm going to die anyway." Hazel coughed, her chest heaving with each inhalation.

  Connor rested his forehead against hers. "I don't want to do this to you."

  "You want someone else to do it, then? Fine. I'll be a Green. Tell the man at the door I'm ready." Her face contorted, and she bent at the middle. Her toes curled with the surging pain from the poison.

  Connor stood. His fist hovered in front of the wooden door, shaking. He closed his eyes briefly, forcing himself to knock. The door opened, and the hardened face of the guard looked in. "Get Jakob. I'll do it. I'll change her."

  The guard nodded. He called down the stairs, letting the guard at the bottom of the steps know their intentions. Only moments later, Jakob and Renny were climbing the staircase, smiles on their faces.

  "I knew you'd change your mind." Jakob swept past Connor into the room. He sat on the bed next to Hazel, his hand on her forehead. "She has quite a fever."

  "Tell me what to do," Connor demanded. "How do I change her?"

  "You don't know? Were you born a dragon, then?"

  "My past is not of your concern," Connor said. "Tell me how to help my wife."

  Jakob stood. "Come. We will head to the barn. It is more comfortable there."

  Connor picked up Hazel, carrying her like a babe in his arms. Her head lolled against his shoulder.

  "Thank you," she whispered, her hot breath prickling across his skin.

  Connor didn't answer. He couldn't. He'd seen Tressa so ill she could barely walk. He didn't know how torturous Bastian's change had been, but his own had been excruciating. The indescribable pain had raced through his veins as he came back to life in Stacia's arms. Connor didn't want that for Hazel.

  But she had made the choice. No matter how many times he told her it was unwise, Hazel insisted this was what she wanted.

  Connor walked carefully as they made their way through the village to the barn on the north side. Villagers looked at them curiously, but none seemed concerned. Connor was sure they knew what was about to happen.

  Jakob and Renny opened the barn doors. Connor stepped inside, blinking furiously in the low light. Jakob motioned to a table underneath rows of hanging dragon armor.

  Connor laid Hazel down gently. Her eyes were closed and her breathing shallow.

  "It will be easier for her if she is changed before she dies," Jakob said. He handed Connor a dagger. "Use this to cut your wrist. It's where the blood flows best."

  "And then?" Connor asked.

  "Then let your blood drip into her mouth. Give her as much as you can stand."

  "How will I know when it's enough?" Connor asked.

  "You will know," Jakob said. "Each person is different, but it will be obvious. Trust me."

  Connor held back an angry snort. Trust Jakob. As if he would do such a thing.

  "We'll leave you to it," Jakob said. He patted Connor on the back. "When it is done, bring her out. Oh, and so you know, we gave her something in the soup that will make the transition easy. She will not suffer."

  Jakob and Renny left, closing the barn doors behind them. Three torches flickered in the darkness.

  Connor gazed at Hazel. She almost looked peaceful, as if she were sleeping. He held the dagger to his wrist and sliced down the vein. Blood spurted. Connor quickly covered the wound with his hand, then lowered it carefully to Hazel's mouth. He twisted his arm, letting the wound rest on her lips.

  "Swallow, my love," he said, his voice shaky.

  Connor stroked Hazel's hair with his free hand. Her eyes remained closed, her breathing shallow. He pumped his fist, forcing the blood to flow faster. A crimson stream dribbled down the side of her face. Connor felt dizzy with the loss of blood, but he wouldn't give up until she gave him some sign it was working.

  Then it happened. He felt her lips move on his arm. Hazel's eyes popped open. She pushed his arm away from her mouth and sat up.

  "Bandage yourself. Quickly. Before you lose too much blood."

  Connor marveled at how quickly she recovered. It was nothing like his experience. Perhaps Jakob had told the truth—it was much easier if the person was still alive.

  Hazel tore a strip of fabric from the bottom of her dress and wrapped it around Connor's wound. She smiled at him. "I'm suddenly feeling better. Much better."

  His wife tied the ends of the fabric in a knot. She didn't appear different. He reached out with his good arm and tangled his fingers in her wavy hair. "Are you okay?"

  Hazel nodded. "I think so." She hopped off the table and spun slowly in a circle, her arms out to the side. "I actually feel good. The poison has been counteracted. Other than that, I don't feel so different. Not very dragon-like."

  "That might take some time to master,” Connor said. “The first time you turn, you'll notice a huge difference."

  "I assume so," Hazel said. She placed her hand on Connor's face. "Thank you. I know how hard this was for you. I just want you to know I'm not angry." She leaned in and kissed Connor full on the lips.

  He returned the kiss with passion, filled with relief that Hazel was still alive despite what he'd done to her.

  Hazel broke away and reached for Connor’s dagger. Using it just as he had, she sliced her wrist. Blood welled up on her pale skin. "Drink it."

  Connor recoiled. "What? No! Why?"

  "I drank yours," Hazel said. "I want you to drink mine. We were once bonded as humans. Something inside me says this is how dragons are bonded." Hazel forearm hovered just in front of Connor's lips.

  Despite his horror, he moved in closer. She was right. When he was with Stacia, he had drunk of her blood nightly, deepening his connection to her. He'd begged for her to drink his in return, but she'd never agreed. He'd instinctively known that sharing blood was how dragons swore their loyalty to a mate.

  Connor's tongue grazed Hazel's skin, taking in the few drops off blood she'd drawn. He wanted more, but he wouldn't take it. Not now. He’d already taken her humanity from her today. Hazel's lips fell on his again, and Connor wrapped his arms around her waist.

  He picked her up and tossed her on a pile of hay. They were one now. Forever. As human and as dragon.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Connor and Hazel opened the barn doors together, sliding them to the side. They joined hands and walked out. A crowd of people stood in a semicircle, smiles on their faces. Jakob began clapping and the others followed suit.

  Hazel squeezed Connor's hand, then let go. She walked a few steps ahead of him and faced the crowd. "I am now what you wanted me to be, but I refuse to be a pawn in your game. Connor and I came here for help with an enemy that attacked our village. I did not come here to trade my humanity for immortality."

  Jakob made a clicking noise with his tongue. "You are not immortal. Do not mistake the dragon for never-ending life."

  "If you can take the dead and bring them back as a dragon, why not live forever?" Hazel asked. "Just revive them with your blood."

  "It only works on humans," Renny said. "They are weak and susceptible to the magic of the dragon blood. But once a dragon dies, he is gone forever. There are bodies in the sea proving it."

  Hazel stepped back and took Connor's hand again. "May we leave now?" she asked Jakob.

  He nodded. "I urge you to change everyone you know. It is the only chance they will have to survive the coming war."

  Connor shook Jakob's hand. "We will take your warning under consideration. But first, I have a question. Are your people free to leave the Meadowlands now?"

  "Of course. The barrier is gone," Jakob said. "Soon we will be filling the Dragonlands, notifying the people and giving them a choice."

  "A choice?" Hazel said with a snort. "Will there be a choice or mass conversion?"

  "Always a choice," Jakob said with a smirk. "Just as we offered you one."

  "If your people are free to leave, then there is one we would like to take with us," Connor said. He looked into the gathered crowd, but didn't see Bastian among them.r />
  "Who?" Jakob asked.

  "Bastian," Hazel said. "He's tall, with red hair."

  "I know who he is," Jakob said, his eyes darkening. He waved his hand and the crowd dispersed before continuing, "Bastian is not yours to claim. He belongs to us."

  "He belongs to no one but himself," Connor said. "Why don't we let him choose?"

  "No. It is forbidden. You may leave if you desire, but Bastian will remain here." Jakob grabbed Hazel's elbow and guided her back toward the inn. Connor followed on their heels.

  "But—" Hazel started.

  "No. Bastian died. He was claimed by Blythe, and now she chooses his fate." Jakob walked even faster. "I suggest the two of you leave soon. I'm sorry we inconvenienced you. I wish we could help you with that shadow that attacked your village, but we cannot. Have a safe trip home."

  Jakob released Hazel's elbow. He abruptly walked off, leaving them standing at the entrance to the inn.

  "That was strange," Hazel said.

  Connor placed a finger over his lips as they entered the inn.

  No one paid them any mind as they ascended the stairs to their room. Connor closed the door gently. Hazel sank down on the bed.

  "The room still smells of sick," she said, holding a hand in front of her nose. "I'm sorry."

  "It's okay," Connor said. "I'm glad you didn't die."

  "Me, too." Hazel took Connor's hand in hers. "I'm sorry I had to force you to change me. I know how you feel about what was done to you."

  "It's okay," Connor said. "I needed to face it, and I'm glad you came through it okay. But now we have to figure out how to get Bastian out of here. Last night he clearly wanted to leave with us. I don't feel comfortable flying out of here without him."

  "Neither do I," Hazel said. "Maybe I can change into a dragon and burn this place down?"

  Connor laughed. "It's not that easy. The first time you change it will be a surprise. Breathing fire comes much later. It takes practice. The best you could do right now is sneeze a puff of smoke."

  Hazel held her belly as her shoulders shook. "Like Fotia. That cute little dragon is always trying to blow fire."

  Connor's eyes dimmed. "I miss my babies. We need to get back to them, too." He sat down next to Hazel on the bed. "I can't be in three places at once. Here, to rescue Bastian. At the Red, to ask for help with the shadow. Home in Hutton's Bridge, to protect the children."

  Hazel rubbed his shoulders. "I know. I don't like leaving our children, the boys and the dragons. I have to trust in Pia to protect them. That's no easy thing for me."

  "So what should we do?" Connor asked. "Continue on or stay here?"

  "Jakob doesn't want us," Hazel said. "We either rescue Bastian, and quickly, or we leave. I don't want to turn the Green against us. We won't make it out of the Meadowlands if they deem us a threat."

  "Where do we find Bastian?" Connor asked. "Granted, this village isn't large, no more than a few hundred people, but it won't be easy finding him."

  Hazel lay down, her arms folded behind her head. "Let me think."

  Connor watched his wife for a few moments. Her eyes were closed, her breathing even. He wanted to know what was going on in her mind, but he kept quiet, waiting for her to find a solution. Had Hazel always been this trusting in her ability to solve problems? More than anything, Connor wished he could remember.

  Hazel had assured him they could make new memories together, but it still bothered him that she had memories he didn't. Connor was relieved she hadn't changed much, if at all, since he gave her his blood. Jakob was right—it was better to change her before she died. Looking at her, no one would have believed the pain she had experienced just that morning.

  Hazel sprang up, startling Connor. "I know where Bastian is." She jumped off the bed, grabbed her clothes and stuffed them in her pack. "Get your things. We're getting Bastian and then we're flying out of here. On you," she added with a laugh. "I'm not ready to fly yet."

  "Neither is Bastian," Connor said. "But it's okay, I can carry both of you with no problem. How do you know where he is?"

  "It's strange," Hazel said. "I was thinking about him and what we should do when I suddenly had a vision. He's eating. It's some kind of soup and there's a hunk of bread on his plate. The room is dark. Three candles are burning, just enough to see by. There was a strange noise, but it's one I recognize. I know where to look for him."

  "That's amazing," Connor said. "But how do you know it's real? What if it's just your imagination?"

  Hazel shrugged. "It's just something I know. Remember when I asked you to drink my blood and bond with me? It's like that. I know you lost your memory when you changed. I seem to have gained something. I'm not sure how to describe it yet."

  "Well, I can't wait to see if you're right." Connor slung his pack over his shoulder. "I'm ready to find Bastian, if you are."

  "Is it wrong I'm excited about what my future might bring?" Hazel asked. "This isn't a life I ever expected, much less longed for, but something tells me I'm about to love life even more."

  Connor kissed her cheek. "I'm glad I'm here to experience it with you."

  Hazel stepped out of the room, practically skipping down the stairs. Connor followed. He wanted her to think he was excited, but he knew how deeply the dragon could change someone. He could only hope that all of Hazel's changes were positive and didn't lead his love into disaster.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Connor followed Hazel through the village, her shoulders square as she stepped with sure feet. She still hadn't told Connor where they were headed, only that he should follow.

  "Excuse me," she said, slipping between two stalls. The one on the right was filled with dates and pistachios; the second stall overflowed with oranges and bananas.

  Hazel rounded the corner of a building and Connor immediately recognized where they were. A foundry. Men and women with bulging biceps and sweaty foreheads worked in a dark, humid room filled with boiling pots and gleaming metals. The foundry was where Bastian had worked back in Hutton's Bridge.

  Hazel spun around, a huge grin on her face. "This was the noise I heard when I focused on Bastian in my mind. Let's look around and see if he's here."

  It didn't take long before Connor spotted Bastian's red hair in the back of the foundry. He was standing at a station alone, chewing on a stick of jerky. Surrounded by the clang of metal on metal, they would be able to talk without anyone else hearing. Connor motioned to Hazel and they wound their way around the workers and their tools hanging from the ceiling.

  "Bastian," Connor said, waving.

  His friend looked up, startled. "You didn't?" His eyes moved between Connor and Hazel.

  "Jakob took the choice away from us," Hazel said. "But it's okay. We did what we had to."

  "We're leaving," Connor said. "Jakob said they wouldn't hold us here any longer now that Hazel has been changed. Unfortunately Jakob said you can't go with us. He insists you belong to Blythe. Is that true?"

  Bastian sighed. "She thinks she has some control over me. However, she's not here. What's to stop me from walking out with you now?"

  Connor looked around. "Nothing, as far as I can tell. Are you coming?"

  "Absolutely," Bastian said. "I want to get home to my daughter."

  "Well, you can't just march into Hutton's Bridge, Bastian," Hazel said. "Farah thinks you're dead. She believes she's an orphan now. And while I know she'll be thrilled to find out you're alive, I don't think it's something we can just spring on her."

  "Of course," Bastian said, grinning. "One of you will talk to Farah first. It'll be fine. Now let's go. I'm sick of this place."

  Hazel led the way out of the foundry. The three walked side by side down the street looking for an open area where Connor could change into his dragon. The main street branched toward a grassy knoll. Connor jogged ahead of his friends, eager to get going.

  "Stop!" a voice yelled.

  Connor's shoulders sagged as he turned around. It was Blythe.

 
; She strode toward him, her gown swishing at her feet with every step. "The two of you may leave, but not Bastian. I created him. He needs to stay here with me."

  "No, he doesn't," Connor said. "My creator died, and I am just fine without her. There is nothing that says the two must stay together."

  Blythe's eyes narrowed. "Bastian will stay here. Don't argue with me, Blue dragon. You will regret it."

  "I think I can speak for myself," Bastian said, entering the clearing. He laid a hand on Blythe's arm. "Thank you for bringing me back from the dead. Thank you for giving me new life as a dragon, but I can't stay. I have a daughter. Farah. Remember, I told you about her? You agreed with me that it would be a beautiful reunion when I see her again. I can do that now. Connor will take me home."

  Blythe shook her head. "Not yet. You cannot leave."

  "You can't keep me here, either," Bastian said. "Let us part as friends. Don't make a scene."

  Connor raised an eyebrow. Were the two of them already more than friends? Bastian had a history as a womanizer. Had he worked his magic on Blythe, too? If this was just another lover's quarrel, Connor wanted no part of it.

  "No." Blythe crossed her arms over her chest. "You can't leave. It isn't possible."

  Bastian rested his hands on Blythe's shoulders. "It is possible, and I am leaving. I will visit someday, if you would like that. But just as you are home here with your husband and children, I have to go to my home."

  Connor was even more puzzled now. They didn’t sound like lovers if Bastian spoke so easily of her family. Then why was Blythe so insistent he stay?

  "Bastian," Blythe said, lowering her voice to a near-whisper, "if you leave, everything will unravel. You are the one the ancient texts speak of. If you leave us... we will die. You know what it says."

  Connor leaned in, desperate to hear the rest of their conversation. Hazel was slowly making her way over to them. Her eyes held uncertainty. He had no reassurances to give her.

  "You don't even know for sure that it's me," Bastian said. "Besides, there is no war. Not yet. Who's to say I won't return before the war begins? Then your prophecies might still come true."