Desolation (Dragonlands Book 4)

by Megg Jensen

Bastian tossed Farah into the air. She giggled as he caught her again and spun her around.

  "Now, Bastian," Hazel said with a laugh, "don't make the poor girl sick."

  "Again, again!" Farah yelled.

  Bastian set her on the ground. Connor wasn't sure whose smile was bigger.

  "Papa, does this mean I'm going to grow up to be a dragon, too? I wanna!" Farah jumped up and down, clapping.

  Connor locked eyes with Bastian. They had been in agreement before Bastian's death—the life of a dragon was not a life for them. Yet, since Bastian had become like him, they hadn't spoken of it. Connor wondered if his friend's mind had changed.

  "We'll have to wait and see," Bastian said, ruffling his daughter's hair. "Now go back to whatever you were doing inside. We have some grownup business to attend to."

  Farah stuck out her tongue. "I don't wanna. That horrible woman is in there. She says the baby she's carrying in her tummy will be my little brother or sister. I don't want a little brother or sister, so I kicked her leg."

  Hazel gasped, throwing her hand over her mouth. Connor had to repress a smile. Pia wasn't the easiest person to get along with, and she'd made it clear how she felt about children. Farah's outburst probably hadn’t helped.

  "Ah, so she's here?” Bastian looked to Connor. With everything that had happened in the Meadowlands, Connor and Hazel had forgotten to mention Pia’s presence.

  "Yes, I was able to do as you asked," Connor said. "Sorry we didn't tell you about Pia before landing."

  "It's okay," Bastian said. "She's safe here and so is the baby. I'll speak to her later. There's something else I need to do." He bent down, poking his daughter on the nose. "But first, you need to go back to the village hall."

  "Okay." Farah kicked the ground a couple of times with her boot, then took off in a run. She slammed the hall door behind her.

  Bastian straightened up. "I want to see Elinor's grave. Where is it?"

  Hazel rubbed Bastian's shoulder. "I'm so sorry you lost her. I know you two were just starting a relationship." She looked at Connor, her eyes quizzical. "When did you have time to tell him?"

  Connor had to sort through the secrets in his mind before he answered her. Bastian had explained his connection to Elinor before they entered the battle with the Red—the same battle where Bastian died. They hadn't spoken of it since they'd met again, though. Bastian must have assumed Elinor had died, severing their connection.

  "Um, I mentioned it in passing," Connor said. His answer sounded stupid. He wasn't sure what else to say. While he didn't like hiding the true reason from Hazel, he knew it was Bastian's story to tell.

  "That's no way to tell a man his love is gone." Hazel rubbed Bastian's arm. "I'm so sorry. I was with her, if that's any consolation."

  "You were?" Bastian asked. "Tell me how she died."

  Hazel squeezed her eyes shut. "Well, we were just standing there, and all of sudden she got this strange look on her face. She fell to the ground, convulsing. She died before any of the healers could get to her. It was quite strange, actually. She must have been sick and not known."

  Bastian grabbed Hazel's shoulders. "And you're sure she's dead?"

  Hazel looked at Connor, then back at Bastian. "Yes. She wasn't breathing. We laid her out for a day before commending her body to the fog. Just as we always did with the dead since we ran out of burial space."

  Bastian dropped his hands, regaining his composure. "I'm sorry. This is all still a shock. There's a lot to deal with."

  "Of course," Hazel said. "I understand. We've all experienced change and loss. We'll get through it together.”

  “I wish Tressa were here to get through it with us,” Connor said.

  The three fell silent at the mention of the one person who should be with them, but always seemed to find a reason to be away.

  "I think I'll go in and see to the boys and the dragonlings," Hazel said. "I need hugs from my little men, and I have to admit, I do miss those two little dragons. They've become very special to me, even more so now."

  Connor kissed Hazel on the cheek. He waited until she'd entered the inn before he turned to Bastian. "Why were you asking about Elinor?"

  "I want to make sure she's dead," Bastian said. His face turned as red as his hair. "After what she did to me… I just need to know she didn't rise from the dead, too."

  "What exactly did she tell you about the magical link?" Connor asked. "Can you remember?" He was also curious how much Bastian knew about his past. Connor still couldn't access his memories before awakening in Stacia's arms.

  "She said that as long as one of our hearts beats, we would both live." Bastian took a deep breath and let it out slowly, his eyes closed. "I made sure that she would die by sacrificing myself on the Isle of Repose. It also kept her away from Farah. She had made veiled threats against my daughter."

  Connor shook his head. "In the short time I knew Elinor, she seemed like a nice person. Please don't think I'm questioning you. I'm just amazed how some people can seem so good and turn out to be so bad."

  "Like Jarrett," Bastian said, his hands forming into fists. "Is that bastard dead at least?"

  Connor hesitated before answering. He'd dreaded this moment ever since he realized Bastian had been resurrected. "He's alive. But in a coma and surrounded by guards at all times."

  "Where?" Bastian asked. "Don't tell me he's with Tressa. She can't continue to claim she loves him."

  "He's at the Red castle," Connor said. "Tressa had him brought there, but she's on a mission elsewhere now."

  "Do I even want to know?" Bastian asked.

  "Probably not. Maybe later." Connor clapped his friend on the back. "Are you ready to go to the village hall now?"

  "No," Bastian said. "I need to prove to myself that Elinor is dead. Will you walk with me?"

  Connor nodded, and the two headed toward the southwest corner of the village in silence. He wasn't sure what Bastian was looking for. The small cemetery of Hutton’s Bridge had run out of room long ago, so in a tradition spanning generations, the bodies of the dead were left in the fog. It was the only place the villagers could think to dispose of the bodies. Since returning to Hutton’s Bridge, there was always one question Connor had wanted to ask. "When the fog lifted, what did they see over here?"

  "I don't know," Bastian said. "When I was here I avoided this place, knowing that it was likely a horror of bones and partially decomposed bodies. Perhaps the next time we have the fog lifted, we should come here and bury the bodies properly."

  "If everything doesn't end in fire," Connor said, thinking of the ancient illustration Blythe had shown them.

  "Do you really think it'll happen?" Bastian asked. He reached into the fog, letting his hand disappear into the mist.

  "I don't know," Connor admitted. He'd seen too much truth in the picture to completely discount it. He thought of his boys, and he couldn't imagine forcing them to change into dragons.

  "I guess I won't know if Elinor is truly dead until I see her body," Bastian said. He pulled his hand back.

  "If your heartbeat was the connection, then it's over. Don't let her haunt you from the grave. Let her go. Move on." Connor was more than a little jealous Bastian still had his memories. "Let's go back and get some shuteye."

  They walked away from the ghosts of Bastian’s past. Connor only wished he could remember enough of his to do the same.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Connor spent the next several days in a funk. Nothing could raise his spirits—not playing games with his boys or dragons, not relaxing in the village hall, not his nights with Hazel. He didn't like waiting in Hutton's Bridge for something to happen, but he didn't know where to go or what to do to solve any of their problems.

  He had so many worries and regrets. It was hard to deal with all of them while putting on a positive face for his wife and children. Hazel knew how he was feeling, though she didn't press, letting him decide when he was ready to discuss it. The boys and the dragons didn't seem to
notice.

  Even Bastian had held his tongue. He'd spoken with Pia about their baby but made no claim on her, despite her best attempts to seduce him. She didn't keep it private, like a more proper woman might. Instead she took every chance to rub against Bastian, pretending it was an accident, or asking him for help with the simplest of tasks followed by pouting and mewling when he ignored her. Hazel was irritated by it, she'd told Connor as much, but she didn't say anything because she wanted to keep the peace. Connor also had to gently remind her that Pia was the only one who could scare off the shadow. They needed her, whether they liked it or not.

  Connor wandered the meadow where the beehives once hung, hoping for something to spark a memory.

  When the Red had lured the villagers of Hutton's Bridge away to Malum, they also took the bees. At least Connor knew why now. They had been hoping to make honey to keep Decarian at bay, but they'd failed, and now there was no honey left to stop him from entering the Dragonlands. Connor felt if there was some way he could remember, maybe he could figure out why the honey was different now. He sat on the grass, running his fingers over the blades.

  "What am I missing?" he said aloud.

  A circle of flowers sat in front of him. Their red and yellow petals reached toward the sky, punctuated by a purple stamen rising from the center. They were the soter flowers Hazel said he used to bring her. He picked three for Hazel, grasping the stems tightly in hand.

  Connor walked toward the village hall, trying to take in Hutton's Bridge with fresh eyes. The cottages stood in little rows. Slight differences in architecture or stone kept them from looking exactly the same. Connor's stood out, only because Hazel had shown it to him. Even his own private home did nothing to stir his memories.

  He pushed open the door to the village hall and was greeted by the smell of roasted pheasant. Despite getting their freedom from the fog, many of the small animals had stayed close. The villagers wouldn't have to worry about finding meat for a long time, and Connor hoped they'd be free before then.

  "Poppa!" Curt ran up and threw his arms around Connor's legs.

  He reached down, ruffling his son's hair. "Where's your mother?"

  "There," he pointed and toddled off, his thumb stuck in his mouth.

  Connor spied Hazel across the room, deep in conversation with Pia. For once, it didn't look like they were having tense words. "For you," he said, bowing and offering the flowers to Hazel.

  She smiled, brightening up the room. "Thank you, good sir."

  Connor pulled Hazel into his arms and kissed her.

  "These are beautiful," Pia said. "Where did you find them?" Her fingertip brushed a petal.

  "In the meadow where we kept the bees," Connor said, his arm still solidly around Hazel's waist.

  "I've never seen their like," Pia said. “I've traveled a lot, you know. When I was young, I sailed on a ship around the coast of the Dragonlands. I've been with many a man and woman, and been given many flowers, but never like this. They are truly unique. A good choice for your lady love."

  Hazel rested them under her nose. "I love them, Connor. Did you smell them?"

  He shook his head. He hadn't even thought to. Hazel brought one to his face. Connor closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He staggered backward, his hand on his chest.

  "Connor!" Hazel yelped.

  He fell to his knees, his heart pounding erratically. His mind swam with images. Connor leaned forward, hoping to stave off the dizziness quickly overtaking him.

  "Connor! Talk to me. Are you okay?" Hazel yelled. She rested a hand on his back. "Pia, get the children out of here."

  He heard the shuffling of small feet, but couldn't process where they were going. All Connor could do was bend over and rest his forehead on the floor. The pounding echoed in his head, reverberated through his body, and jolted all of his muscles. He collapsed onto the wooden floor, his hands clutching his head.

  "Connor!" It was Bastian this time. His rough hands shook Connor's shoulders. "Get the healers!"

  Hazel lay on the floor next to him, tears spilling from her cheeks. "Please. Tell us if you're okay. Talk to me."

  Connor shut them out, focusing on the images flashing in his mind.

  He saw himself running in the meadow with Tressa and Bastian, children playing tag. He saw Hazel pull a ribbon from a basket, the match to the ribbon Connor held. He saw a baby being born; a tearful Hazel holding their firstborn son. He saw a swarm of bees flying around a honeycomb. He saw Sophia's dead body. He saw the fog. He held Tressa's hand and stepped in. He felt them being separated. The kilrothgi tore at his body, extracting pain like Connor had never experienced. He passed out and awoke naked in Stacia's presence.

  Connor took a few deep breaths and calmed his shaking body. He sat up slowly, rubbing his temples.

  "What was that? You were never allergic to the flowers before," Hazel said. She wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

  "No, I'm not allergic," Connor said.

  "Don't scare me like that," Hazel said.

  Bastian lightly punched Connor's arm. "What happened?"

  Connor looked at the flowers, still clutched in Hazel's quavering hand. He smiled. "I remember. Everything. I remember it all."

  "What?" Hazel asked. It came out as a whisper.

  "Really?" Bastian asked. "That was your memory coming back?"

  "Yes," Connor said. "And there's something else. I think I know why the honey of Hutton's Bridge is so special."

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Tressa landed on the rocky ground. She couldn't hear Donovan’s thoughts like she did with Fi’s, still she could hear his words as he shouted directions from her back. Tressa sat down, letting the four of them dismount.

  She closed her eyes, waiting for her human form to take over, but nothing happened. Tressa gritted her teeth, urging her body to change. Still nothing. Annoyed, Tressa kept silent. She wouldn’t tell anyone she couldn’t change. Not yet. Surely it would come to her, just as it had in the past.

  "We can't take her into the village," Hildie said.

  Now that the wind wasn't whistling in her ears, she could hear and understand them just fine.

  "It's true," Onva said. "They will kill her. It's not safe here. If anyone sees her, they will attack."

  "Then we part here," Donovan said. "Pass on my remorse over the deaths of Accore, Kadrin, and Fregar. Tell your leaders I will be back. This is not the end; it is only the beginning. Soon we will prepare for battle."

  Hildie's back stiffened. She saluted Donovan. Onva only grunted. Donovan bowed to her.

  "We will await your return, Donovan," Hildie said. She glared at Tressa. "If you ruin anything else, we will hunt you down, gut you from gullet to throat, and roast your wings over a fire."

  Fi laid a hand on Tressa's neck. "She won't. She didn't kill the others. The shades did. If I can measure the three of them based on you, they were honorable, indeed."

  Hildie’s face softened. "You speak the truth, despite not having even met our comrades. We did this to save you, and because Donovan assured us it was the right path to take in our journey toward living in the open again. If what he says turns out to be true, you will be the great turning point in our history."

  "Then why not give Tressa some of the credit, too?" Fi asked.

  Onva spat at Tressa's taloned feet. "Because of what I see before me. The dragon offends."

  "She's not always a dragon," Fi said. "Didn’t Donovan tell you I am a dragon, too? That I was born a dragon and hope to die as one? I agreed to let him leech out my blood for the sake of people I hadn't met yet. You. Extend us the same courtesy we've given you."

  Hildie reached out, placing a hand on Fi's arm. "You will be well?"

  Tressa cocked her head as Hildie caressed Fi's arm. If she’d been in human form, Tressa would have mentioned Fi's wife, Sarah, to get Hildie away from her friend.

  Fi stepped backward, and Hildie's hand dropped. "I'll be fine. Tressa is my best friend. My sister of the heart
. I belong with her."

  "Then go," Hildie said. "I hope we'll meet again, soon."

  "We will," Donovan said. "I can assure of you that. What we are about to do will change the course of both the Dragonlands and Desolation forever."

  Tressa watched the two women walk away, then disappear into their invisible village. A shout brought their attention back to the place Hildie and Onva had disappeared. Hildie ran back into the open, three flowers clutched in a hand.

  "These are for you," Hildie said, shoving the yellow and red petals at Fi.

  "Oh! They're beautiful! But you didn't have to…" Fi stood awkwardly, her feet shuffling.

  "I know I didn't. I just wanted to." Hildie quickly kissed Fi on the cheek, then ran off toward her village, disappearing again.

  Tressa felt a tug at her heart, seeing the flowers. They had a meadow of blossoms just like that in Hutton's Bridge.

  Donovan and Fi climbed on her back.

  Donovan says you need to fly due east, Fi thought to Tressa, their link still intact. Once you get to the Wardack River, cross it and head north. Back the way we were headed before I was captured.

  Are you okay? Tressa asked. Because you still haven't told us anything that happened to you there.

  If you're worried I've been taken over like Jarrett, you can stop that right now, Fi said. I'm fine. The shades were holding me because they knew I was different. They wanted to know why before they killed me. I was no more than a curiosity to them. I imagine if I'd had my dragon inside me, I would be dead now. Instead, they sensed some kind of hole inside me. As beings of no shape, they were intrigued by the emptiness I carried. There is more, things I heard in their minds when they were probing me. I haven’t made sense of it all, yet. As soon as I do, we will need to talk more.

  Although Tressa wanted to believe her friend, she'd been tricked by Jarrett into believing he was better when he'd been planning to kill her and her friends all along. He'd succeeded in killing Bastian, as well as countless dragons of every color. Tressa hadn't given up on healing him, but she wasn't sure she could ever trust him again. And now Fi had to be watched.