by Megg Jensen
"Good. There are days I think perhaps I would be better off dead."
Tressa scooted closer, wrapping an arm around Jarrett's shoulder. "I'm glad you aren’t. You can still do good, Jarrett. You saved Fi from Donovan, didn't you? Perhaps there is more good inside, waiting to come out. We don't know. I won't allow anyone to hurt you unless I absolutely have to."
She kissed his cheek, lingering only a moment longer than necessary. It was hello, and it was goodbye.
"We never had a chance, did we?" Jarrett asked. "Everyone was against us."
Tressa thought back to Bastian's anger at her choice. Jarrett's old lover, Jacinda, the Queen of the Yellow, had done everything in her power to keep them apart. Then came the Keeper. Donovan's magic was far stronger than any human manipulation.
"No matter what happens to us, I will never, ever let Donovan win. Never." Tressa stood resolutely, her hands in fists at her side.
"I know you won't, and I love you for it," Jarrett said.
Tressa wanted to tell Jarrett she loved him, too. The words wouldn't form. "Goodbye, Jarrett. Thank you for everything."
He didn't respond as she swept out of the tent. Tressa ran to her tent, collapsing on her bedroll. She'd finally had the chance to say goodbye to a man she'd deeply loved. He wasn't dead, but he was lost to her forever.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The trumpeting of a horn woke Tressa from a fitful sleep. In her dreams she was trying to save Jarrett from Donovan's grasp. Her heart heavy, she threw off her blanket, pulled on her boots, and emerged from her tent into the crisp morning air.
"What is it?" she asked the guard assigned to her tent.
"I don't know. Word hasn't reached us yet."
They didn't have to wait long before Krom ran up, his gray cloak flapping behind him. "Tressa, there is a dragon approaching. It's a Blue."
She clapped Krom on the shoulder. "That's my friend Connor. Let's welcome him with open arms."
Tressa ran out to the open field, waving to Connor. He was still far in the distance, and she cursed Donovan again. If she'd been able to change into her dragon, Connor would know to come toward them, rather than fly around to the side. Instead, she flailed her arms in the air, jumping up and down.
Alden landed next to her. He doesn't recognize you from so far away. Want me to give him a signal?
"Thank you so much," Tressa said, smiling. Alden had helped Connor see her once before, using his ghostly dragon ice. If not for that, she would have died in the peaks of the Barrier Mountains.
Alden flew toward Connor, blowing cold bursts of air. Connor swerved to the right, then to the left, circling around. Alden let Connor fly past him, then blasted Connor's dragon arse with ice pellets.
Tressa laughed, clutching her belly.
"What is wrong with that dragon?" Krom asked as the two of them watched Connor dart around in the sky. "Is he ill?"
"No, he's fine," Tressa said. "I'm sending him a message that he needs to land. I think he'll understand soon enough."
Krom eyed Tressa, but she didn't explain. When it became necessary, she would tell the warriors in gray about her ghost dragon army. Until then, they would remain her secret.
Connor finally spotted Tressa, still waving her arms and jumping, and flew toward her. The jerking ceased as Alden calmly followed Connor to the ground, landing beside him.
Connor changed into his human form and took Tressa in his arms for a hug. "I'm so glad to see you." He opened his mouth as if to say more, then stopped when he noticed Krom standing nearby.
"I'm glad to see you, too, Connor. I've been searching for you." Tressa pushed back his sandy hair and kissed him on the cheek.
"Sophia said you'd left the Ruins of Ebon looking for me, so I flew out to find you. I knew eventually we'd cross paths, but I didn't expect you to be with an army." Connor held out a hand to Krom. "I'm Connor."
"Krom. It's nice to meet you. Tressa has told us about you and your friend Bastian. Is he on his way as well?"
"No. He's in the Meadowlands. I was sent to muster help from the Charred Barrens." Connor rolled his eyes. "You see how well that worked out."
Tressa grabbed Connor's elbow, guiding him back toward camp. She didn't want to stand exposed in the meadow for too long. There was safety in the encampment. "Granna told me they wouldn't fight. I am still stunned by Mestifito's cowardice. I lost my dragon, too, but I intend to fight. So does Fi."
"Fi?" Connor asked, his eyes wide. "She's alive?"
"Yes," Tressa said with a smile. "She stumbled up on us, much like you did."
"Your army isn't hard to miss," Connor said. "At first, I assumed you were part of the evil army that is out there. At least I did until..." He trailed off, sneaking a furtive glance at Krom. It was clear he wasn’t sure he should reveal the truth about the ghost dragons.
"Until you saw me jumping in the field, acting like a fool to get your attention," Tressa finished for him hastily.
"So you can see them," Krom said, relief flooding his voice. "All this time, we thought you couldn't."
"What are you talking about?" Tressa asked.
"The dragons with no form."
Tressa's jaw dropped as she gaped at Krom. "If you can see them, why didn't you say something?"
Krom shrugged. "We thought you couldn't see them, even though they followed you everywhere, so we held our tongues."
"We?" Tressa asked.
"All of us. All of the warriors in gray can see them."
Tressa stopped in her tracks, dumbfounded. "All these days we've been traveling together, and no one has mentioned it?"
"We did not think it mattered. It was clear the dragons were watching over you and held no malice toward you. If you couldn't see them as we could, why alarm you by mentioning it? Imagine hearing you had an army of ghosts trailing you, but you couldn't see them."
"Can you talk to them?" Tressa asked, curious how much more they knew.
Krom’s brow furrowed. "Talk to them? No. Can you?"
"I can hear their thoughts, but only one of them speaks to me directly. Alden, their leader." Tressa gestured to the dragon behind her.
"Ah, yes, the one who is always closest to you, protecting you." Krom nodded to Alden, and Alden dipped his head in return.
My dragons were unaware they could see us. These warriors in gray are good at hiding things. I think we can trust them, but I would not stake your life on it. Alden's slitted eyes fell on Krom, sizing him up.
"From now on, we shouldn't withhold information from each other," Tressa said. "I'm sorry I kept the ghost dragons from you. I wasn't sure I could trust you at first. These dragons are close to my heart. I didn't want to betray their presence if it might endanger them."
"I agree," Krom said.
"While we are sharing secrets, there is much I have to tell you," Connor said. "We need to combine our resources if we are to win this war."
"A war?" Krom asked. "Has it truly come to that so quickly?"
"Yes," Connor fell in stride with Tressa and Krom as they altered course, heading toward the largest tent, the one they used to make their plans. "Not long after I left to ask for help from the Black, I received a pigeon telling me that a battalion of flying skeletons had descended on the Meadowlands. The Green easily, and successfully, fought them off. We believe this is only beginning."
"Is the Green sheltering those who are unable to fight?" Tressa asked, thinking of the few friends she'd made while she was there. The young girl, Margret, who had helped Tressa when she'd landed on the shore of the Meadowlands after being cast to sea by Jacinda. Surely Margret’s brothers Peyter and Edmond were old enough to fight.
Connor looked at Tressa, his eyes sad. "Those who cannot fight have left."
"For the Sands?" Tressa asked. "I'm not sure they'll find protection there."
"No," Connor said. "They have taken to the sea. They are flying west, hoping to find asylum in a new land. Hazel and my children have gone with them. Bastian's children, to
o. We are preparing to fight. However, the Green will only fight until they receive word that their families are safe on the other side of the sea. They plan to retreat then, leaving the Dragonlands to Donovan and his minions."
"No!" Tressa pushed aside the flap to the tent with far more vigor than she'd intended. "We can't just leave our land to Donovan. Who is to say he wouldn't come across the sea, seeking to harm more of us?"
Krom sat down at the head of the table. He unrolled a large vellum map on the table, holding the corners down with stones. "We are here," he said, pointing near the center of the map. "Using the Meadowlands as a base will put us at a disadvantage. Donovan's army could trap us there. We need a more defensible place to make our stand."
"We should ask Jarrett if he knows anything of Donovan's plans," Tressa said, knots twisting in her stomach. She hated treating him like a common prisoner, someone who was only useful for information. She had to force herself to remember that the Jarrett she knew was lost to her. He could never be cleaved from Donovan's power.
"Jarrett?" Connor asked. "He's dangerous. I wouldn't trust a word out of his mouth. You can't let your heart speak for you, Tressa."
"Don't you think I know that?" she asked, her eyes on fire. "We have him in our custody, and we should use him. He's willing to help."
"I'm sure he is," Connor said under his breath.
"I heard that," Tressa said.
"Good." Connor stood over Krom’s shoulder. "I trapped Decarian and blocked the entrance to Desolation here." He pointed at the Red castle next to the Barrier Mountains. "There aren't many directions his army could have gone."
"I want to help." Fi barged into the tent. "Sorry it took me so long to get up. I'm still sore."
Fi's face was bruised and swollen. She walked with a slight limp.
"Fi, it's so good to see you," Connor said, a smile on his face. "It appears you aren't as easily killed as we feared."
Fi only offered a weak smile. The strong, confident woman had been beaten down, but Tressa was sure her old friend was still in there somewhere.
"I know where Donovan is hiding," Fi said, walking over to the table. She traced a line from their camp through the forest, then circled one spot with her fingertip. "He's in here. There's a cabin that serves as his base and a cave nearby where he spends most of his time. I think the skeletons in his army have dug a hole from the Red castle to this spot. Decarian will emerge there, along with the others trapped with him."
Fi took a deep breath, locking eyes with Tressa. "They're going to kill us. There's nothing we can do to stop them. They are simply too powerful."
“Perhaps.” Tressa ran her fingertips over the map. “It won’t stop me trying.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Bastian woke covered in sweat, his heart pounding. He'd had a nightmare, one he couldn't quite remember, but it was enough to tear him from his sleep. His stomach turned and his hands shook.
Bastian’s gaze fell on the skull he'd taken from the battlefield. The thing was grating on his nerves. He took a towel and tossed it over the bony head with the gaping eye sockets. Bastian still wasn't sure why he'd taken it, nor did he have any idea what he'd do with it. The skull had no secrets to tell.
Shrugging off the unease, Bastian stepped out into the morning light from the cottage. There were many empty homes in the Outpost now that more than half of the Green population had left for the west. Bastian thought of his children, hoping they were okay in the basket on Hazel's back.
Bastian made his way to the inn, his stomach growling. He had hunkered down in his cottage after the morning's battle to rest, and he'd forgotten to eat. The whole day felt like somewhat of a blur. He needed some time to clear his head, and the restless night's sleep hadn't helped like he'd hoped.
Jakob waved Bastian over to his table. The scent of fresh oatmeal permeated the air. Bastian took a deep whiff as he sat down across from Jakob.
"Has Connor returned yet?" Bastian asked. A serving woman set a bowl of steaming oatmeal in front of Bastian. He dug in, ignoring the searing pain on his tongue from the hot breakfast. He was so hungry he didn't care.
"No. Hopefully he'll be back soon with reinforcements," Jakob said between bites of bread. He wiped the crumbs from the corner of his mouth with a sleeve. "We helped the Black in their time of need. I'm hoping they will return the favor."
"I'm sure they will," Bastian said. "They are an honorable people." Tressa popped into his head, and he tried pushing her away. He shoveled another spoonful of oatmeal into his mouth.
"In the meantime, we wait. I won't seek out a battle. We'll stay here. Either our messenger will come back from the west, telling us it's safe to leave for a new settlement, or we will defend against any invaders." Jakob motioned for the serving girl to bring him another strip of jerky. "Maybe the battle will never come to us."
Bastian's jaw dropped. "But your sacred texts—"
"Are just that. It's a mark on paper. Do you really believe all of that could happen? No one is that powerful." Jakob tore a piece of jerky from the stick in his hand.
"If you think there's a chance it's not real, then why send everyone away?" Bastian couldn't eat another bite of food until he understood. The Green had gone to so much trouble preparing for this war, and they’d sowed so much fear among their people. "Blythe believes it, doesn't she?"
Jakob snorted. "Blythe believes tiny winged fairies pollinate the flowers. She thinks the world is full of magic. It doesn't take much to convince a weak mind." Jakob waved his jerky at Bastian. "You, on the other hand, are a practical man. I've seen it since the start. You didn't believe in the prophecy any more than I did."
It was true. Bastian hadn't trusted the drawing in a book—at first. "The blood moon. What of that?" he asked. Without that, he would have doubted Connor’s claim about the giant beast under the Red castle. Bastian liked to see things for himself. He wanted solid proof.
"The blood moon did give me pause," Jakob admitted. "It was as good a time to leave the Dragonlands as any other. It gave the people a reason to go. I will be happy to follow soon enough. I hope within a few days we'll be on our way to the west to join them."
"Oh, so that's your stake in this. You just want to leave the Dragonlands." Bastian slammed his spoon down on the table. He avoided all the eyes he could feel on him now. "You scared all of your people into leaving."
"Keep your voice down," Jakob warned. "The people here know me better than you. They'll believe me if I say you're a liar." He stood. "Come with me to a place we can speak more privately."
Bastian took another spoonful of his oatmeal, grabbed a hunk of bread from the bowl on the table, and followed Jakob out of the inn. Had it been any other time, Bastian would have been happy to confront the man publicly. It was different this time. Bastian's family had left with the others, and he wouldn't do anything to jeopardize their safety.
They ended up in the barn, the armor neatly hung again from the rafters. Jakob lit a torch. "The Red and the Yellow trapped our people behind a magical barrier for years. We weren't allowed to leave. The only trade we conducted was what they graciously offered us. We were prisoners in our own land. When the chance to leave came, I encouraged it. The Green should be able to do as they please. There is not one king or queen to rule us all. They cannot tell us what to do."
"I sent my children with the children of the Meadowlands to keep them safe," Bastian said, a slight growl at the back of his throat. "If they come to any harm because of your foolish plan, I will tear your arms off."
"And what if it is real?" Jakob asked. "What if the blood moon does signify something other than just a strange occurrence?"
"Then it is good we sent them," Bastian said, resignation trickling into his voice. He would have sent them even if he had known Jakob's intentions. He trusted Connor, and if Connor believed it was a possibility, then Bastian would defer to his friend.
Jakob clapped Bastian on the shoulder. "I believe your children will be safe. I wouldn
't have sent mine if I thought it was dangerous."
"But you don't know what is over the sea," Bastian said. "How can you be so sure?"
"Because," Jakob said, his eyes narrowing, "there won't be any Red or Yellow dragons there to oppress them. If anything, our people will be the more powerful beings. They will command respect."
Bastian turned away from Jakob, rolling his eyes. He’d known the man was conceited, but this trumped all. "You're leaving the Dragonlands so you can be the most powerful being? That’s unfair."
"There is no fairness in life. Only survival. If you think otherwise, you are a fool," Jakob said.
Before Bastian could respond, the bells clanged in the courtyard. The doors were thrown wide open as men and women stormed into the barn, heading for their armor.
"What is it now?" Jakob asked one of the women.
"Another cloud like yesterday's," she called, continuing to her armor.
Jakob winked at Bastian. "Clearly we are facing a frightening foe. We'll defeat them again. If this is all they have to throw at us, then we will soon be leaving for the west, too. We will be with our families, Bastian. You can count on it."
Jakob sauntered away, leaving Bastian underneath his own hanging armor. He glanced up at the bright metal and sighed. He wished he knew what the future held. He wanted to believe it was all a coincidence, that the blood moon meant nothing, that these clouds of flying skeletons were the worst they would ever face.
Yet, he remembered the horror in Connor's eyes when he confessed the truth of the picture in the sacred texts. His fear was still palpable. Bastian hadn't trusted many people in his life, but Connor was one of the two who had his unflinching loyalty.
If his friend believed, then Bastian would treat every attack as if it was his last. He pulled the armor down and dragged it out to the courtyard. There were already many other dragons in the air, heading toward the east. A shriek rang out, just like the one he'd heard the day before on the battlefield, except this one was much closer. A skeleton dropped from the sky, swinging its sword.
