“You know why I left,” she pointed out.
“The children?” he sounded sympathetic enough, and Quinn suspected that his own impending fatherhood gave him a new perspective.
“I have to find them, Kellan. Jack and Ava need me.”
“We need you,” he replied softly, no trace of accusation in his tone.
“No harm will come to the City,” she tried to reassure him, but he wouldn’t meet her eyes.
Quinn realised that, as their protector, the wards of Summerfeld might feel abandoned. She had, after all, chosen Jack and Ava over her duty to defend them. Pushing aside her guilt she changed the subject as the mountains came into view before them.
“Has Caleb chosen a bond mate yet?”
“No,” Kellan seemed to understand that she didn’t want to talk about the Guardians anymore, and he continued easily, “Cassandra is desperate for his attention, but he seems intent on claiming Channon for his own – as he should.”
“Channon is a person; she should have a choice.”
“Channon is a wolf – a member of the Lunar pack,” he corrected. “She has a duty and an obligation. She’s upsetting the natural order – even Rafe knows that.”
They both fell silent as they approached the mountains and Quinn glanced upward, squinting through the mist that surrounded Dragon’s Peak. As the shadow of the crag fell over them, Quinn could feel Etana quivering nervously beneath her as they skirted the edge of Lake Avalon.
“We should walk from here,” Kellan announced, sliding down from Sheehan’s back and giving her a hard pat on the rump. While the dragons would never attack the Guardians, Fae or any of the wards outside of the mountain range, they were highly territorial and would feast off the unicorns quite happily for venturing into their territory. Even Quinn and Kellan were in danger, for overstepping the boundary and coming onto dragon soil.
Starting at the base of Dragon’s Peak, Lake Avalon stretched almost a mile away from Quinn. She bent down and dipped a finger in the water, which was icy cold, nestled as the lake was in the shadow of the enormous mountain, a perfect natural habitat for the merfolk. Quinn had only ever seen a merman once, and that was before she had even become a Guardian.
As she stared at the rippling water she recalled the day clearly, since it had been her twelfth birthday. She and Avery had been living in Summerfeld almost seven years and this was the furthest they had ever ventured from their home.
“Avery!” Quinn panted, chasing after her sister. Avery laughed gaily and stepped into the cool shadow of the mountain, while Quinn, further behind, squinted against the bright sunlight.
“We’re not supposed to be out here,” Quinn whined as she reached her sister, casting a nervous glance up at the misty mountain. “The dragons...”
“Scared of the big bad dragons, are you, little sister?” Avery teased, referring to the fact that she had been born seven minutes earlier than Quinn.
“You should be too,” Quinn scolded seriously.
“Here it is,” Avery breathed. She only had eyes for the lake, and even Quinn was distracted. Lake Avalon, home of the merfolk. They had found it.
“Do you think we could call them?” Quinn whispered, and Avery gave a tinkling peal of laughter.
“Why don’t you try?” she grinned. Quinn narrowed her eyes at her sister but she stepped forward, kneeling at the water's edge, the skirt of her summer dress trailing in the lapping wetness.
“Hello,” she called softly, "is anybody there?” She half-expected a mermaid to appear before her, but Avery’s howl of mirth beside her had her back on her feet instantly, her cheeks burning. Embarrassed, she opened her mouth to yell at her sister, but a sudden shriek sounded above them and her blood ran cold in her veins.
“Dragon!” Avery screamed and Quinn lifted her head to see the dark form rushing towards her.
Frozen with fear, she saw the fire shoot from the ugly black mouth and she waited for the flames to engulf her. Cold wet hands grabbed her waist and she yelped in fear, but her cry for help was cut off abruptly as she was pulled beneath the icy surface of the lake. The cold pierced her skin like needles and she watched as the light from the surface above her became smaller and smaller as she was pulled deeper into the lake's murky depths. Struggling against her captor’s hold, she turned and froze as she came face to face with a golden-haired merman. His face was beautiful and he shook his head slowly from side to side, wordlessly warning her not to struggle.
A fiery red light lit the surface of the lake above them but Quinn barely had a moment to register that the merman had saved her life when she was suddenly streaking through the water - so fast that she had to close her eyes. She concentrated on holding her breath, her need for air becoming dangerously desperate. And then, unexpectedly, they broke the surface and Quinn gasped, drawing in a huge lungful of air. Avery was coughing and spluttering beside her, supported by a merwoman with a halo of the same golden hair as the merman. They were on the opposite side of the vast lake, right near the shore and Quinn could make out Dragon’s Peak in the distance. They had travelled a mile under the water in just a few seconds.
“Thank you,” she murmured, meeting her saviour’s onyx black eyes. He had no pupils that she could discern, just a solid black iris. He was somehow both terrifying and beautiful. As soon as she could, Avery screamed, her voice echoing across the lake. Quinn swam towards her and grabbed her arm.
“Quiet!” she hissed, and Avery closed her mouth abruptly, the sight of Quinn seeming to calm her instantly. Quinn was surprised that Avery had been the one to be so terrified. Avery had always seemed so much braver than she was.
The girls made their way to the shore and sat down in the mud, trying to slow their racing hearts.
“You should not have come here,” the merwoman spoke, her gutteral voice in stark contrast to her soft, eerie beauty. Quinn could not answer and Avery simply continued to sob piteously at her side.
“You are the daughters of Braddon?” the merman asked, in the same raspy voice.
“Yes.” Quinn cowered in new-found terror. She would rather face the dragon again than her father’s wrath when he heard of their disobedience. They had been warned never to venture too far from town, and though they had explored almost every inch of Summerfeld, this was the first time they had been caught.
“We will not tell your father of this, Guardian child,” he rasped, ignoring the sudden outburst behind him as the merwoman noisily disagreed, “but be warned, only a true Guardian can visit this place and walk away from it to tell the tale.” Without another word he sank back below the surface of the lake. The merwoman behind him remained where she was for a long moment, her cold obsidian eyes boring into Quinn’s, and then she too departed, leaving the girls wet and shivering and far from home.
“Quinn?” Kellan called softly and Quinn tore her eyes from Lake Avalon to face him. “We should get going; we don’t have much daylight left.” Nodding, Quinn followed him upwards as they started to climb.
Being nocturnal, the dragons were less likely to detect them during the day, particularly if they were quiet. On they climbed, making good progress, until Kellan stopped suddenly and crouched low on his haunches. Quinn knelt beside him, realising they had reached a small canyon, hollowed out in the mountain. Kellan pointed to an outcrop below them and Quinn stared in wonder at the cluster of burnt-orange eggs, nestled in a groove in the rocks below. She counted quickly – there were eight in total. Only eight remaining Chumana dragons. They both ducked behind a sheer rock face as a flapping noise alerted them to the return of the mother, who came to rest on a broad, flat plateau of rock about fifty feet above the egg cluster. She was beautiful; smaller than the other species, but her wondrous colouring – shades of beech leaves in the autumn – set her apart. It also made her an easy target, highly visibly against the colourless grey stone of the mountain.
“How are we going to get the eggs?” Quinn whispered. Dragon's acute night-vision made it imperative they re
trieve the eggs before nightfall. That left a mere two hours.
“I was hoping she would be out hunting,” Kellan replied, “but it looks like she’s already done that.” They both eyed the remnants of a mountain ox that lay scattered around where the Chumana female had settled.
“She won’t venture far from those eggs without her mate to stand guard,” Quinn pointed out, her spirits dropping. She had to get back to the Cathedral and away from Summerfeld before the Guardians returned from their search for the Pegasus.
While they watched, the Chumana suddenly rose onto her powerful back legs, her face searching the sky. She emitted a low, threatening hiss, and, for a second, Quinn feared she had caught their scent. Then Kellan pulled her to the ground as an enormous dark form loomed out of the mist above them. Quinn stared up at the dark belly of the beast that flew overhead and held her breath. It was an Orochian – fiercest and most dangerous of all the dragons – every scale on its ugly, gnarled body as black as night.
The Orochian flew straight for the cluster of eggs, ignoring Quinn and Kellan in its desire to destroy the last remaining Chumana line. Rearing up on her hind legs, the Chumana flapped her red wings, and with a snarl of rage, rose to meet her opponent. Fire erupted from her mouth, and the Orochian veered to the left to avoid being incinerated.
“Come on!” Quinn called, rising from her position on the rocky floor and sprinting towards the eggs. She leaped over a small crevice and almost lost her footing on landing, leaning precariously over a sheer cliff face before she righted herself. Kellan grabbed her arm and pulled her forward again, as the two raced hell for leather towards their precious target. The two dragons above them hissed and roared, and more than once Quinn felt a blast of heat, like an open furnace, whoosh over her.
Distracted by the Orochian, the Chumana female had abandoned her eggs, and, for the time being, she had not noticed Quinn and Kellan, but it was only a matter of time before she did, and then she would unleash her maternal fury on them instead.
They reached the cluster and began depositing the eggs into the sack that Kellan carried over his shoulder. It didn’t take long, although they were careful, and they started to retreat, back the way they had come, only this time much more slowly. Kellan could not risk breaking the precious eggs he carried. Dragon eggs' outer shells were hard and durable – even fire-resistant - but the eggs would not survive a fall from this height. Quinn sensed the second that the Chumana realised her eggs were gone. A high-pitched squeal sounded above them, louder than any they had heard before, and Quinn raised her eyes to see the fiery red dragon bearing down on them. Quinn scoured the ground around her. Just up ahead, a small outcrop of rocks provided a way down.
“Kellan, go!” she pointed at the make-shift stairs and Kellan immediately clambered over the edge of the rocky path, dropping nimbly onto the rocks below. He lifted his arms to help her, but Quinn shook her head. “Go!” she iterated, turning on her heel and running, as fast as she could, down the original path they had taken. She had to lead the mother away; Kellan would never outrun her carrying his precious burden. Quinn sprinted, leaping over rocks and scrabbling across boulders. More than once she slipped, grazing her body painfully on the jagged surface, and all the while she realised that one wrong step and she would be flung out into the void, plummeting to her death.
She heard the hiss behind her that signalled that the Chumana was about to mow her down in a breath of fire, and, just in time, she threw herself behind a large boulder. The fire streaked around her, missing her by inches, and the boulder itself sizzled with the intensity of the heat. Knowing that the dragon would need a few moments before she could launch another attack, Quinn didn’t hesitate. She vaulted forward and kept running.
She was descending the mountain much faster than was sensible, but she didn’t slow down. Now that she was moving downhill, the Chumana had to circle around in order to attack and this was buying her some time. She prayed that Kellan had made it to safety – the path he had taken was steeper and required climbing, but it was a direct route and a much faster way to the base of the mountain.
Twice the Chumana breathed its fire at her and on both occasions she managed to avoid being burnt to a crisp. The third time the Chumana circled, Quinn realised too late that she could not hide. The dragon approached her head-on and the only escape would be to vault off the mountain. As Quinn couldn’t fly – that would be suicide. She watched in horror as the Chumana flapped her dazzling wings, bringing her closer and closer in a matter of seconds. Quinn dropped to her knees, lifting her arms to shield her face, but she could not take her eyes off the sight before her. She thought of Jack and Ava and how she had failed them. She should never have come back. In the final seconds the Chumana opened her mouth and Quinn heard the deadly hiss that signalled the fire to come.
She saw the flames burgeoning in the massive throat and, in the same instant, the Orochian hit the Chumana broadside, at full speed. The larger dragon slammed the younger female brutally into the side of the mountain. In her weakened state, and pinned as she was, the Chumana could not retaliate, and Quinn watched, frozen in horror, as the Orochian used its massive claws and jaws to tear into the smaller dragon. It was all over in a matter of seconds. The Orochian released its prey and the Chumana dropped down the side of the mountain, lifeless. The Orochian beat its black wings and turned its hideous head, its black eyes finding Quinn.
Chapter 16
Quinn bolted. She had only a few seconds before the Orochian managed to turn its body, and she shot past the place where it hovered, streaking down the mountain once again. As with the Chumana, the Orochian had to circle around to reach her, and Quinn only hoped she could evade its attack long enough to reach the bottom.
The first assault was easy enough to avoid – Quinn had anticipated the timing and she positioned herself next to a craggy mass of fallen boulders, waiting until the last second before dodging behind them. The second the fire stopped, she continued down the mountain. Quinn had been lucky until then, but abruptly her luck ran out. The front of her sneaker caught in a fissure and she crashed heavily to the ground, twisting her ankle in the process.
Cursing, Quinn lifted herself gingerly and tried to put pressure on her injured foot. A sharp pain shot up her leg and she almost collapsed. Searching the sky, she could see no sign of the Orochian, but she knew it would round the mountain any second now. Ignoring the agonising pain, she started to hop forward, putting most of her weight on her good leg. It was tedious and slow going, but she gritted her teeth determinedly and continued on. An enormous cliff face rose up beside her and she used it to steady herself as she hopped alongside it.
A bone-chilling shriek rent the air and the hair on the back of Quinn’s neck stood up. The Orochian had rounded the mountain and was diving towards her, its ugly maw open and ready to blast her with its fire. Quinn hopped forward, towards it, praying that she would find an opening in the cliff face, or a way down before it reached her. The dragon’s wings beat the air relentlessly, bringing it closer and closer, and, once again, Quinn was reminded of that fateful afternoon with Avery. There were no merfolk to save her now – no one but herself. She wouldn’t give in. Still hopping forward, she kept her eyes fixed on the gruesome beast.
Suddenly someone stepped into her line of vision, blocking out the terrifying sight of the Orochian. He grabbed her around the waist and pushed her forcefully backward. Quinn braced herself, expecting to slam into the cliff face, but instead, she was plunged into a cool, dank darkness. Kellan had come back! She sighed in relief, feeling dizzy and clung to him desperately – all her fear and emotion overwhelming her.
She felt the heat of the dragon’s fire – intended for her – blast past the entrance to the small cave, and then smiled weakly at the furious screech that followed.
“You’re okay, Quinn,” a low, melodious voice murmured in her ear, while two strong arms encircled her. Focused on the distant flapping of those great black wings, it took Quinn a moment
to notice that the voice was deeper than Kellan’s, and that she would recognise it anywhere.
“Tristan!” she yelled angrily, taking a step back and away from him. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Saving your life?” he retorted angrily. As Quinn’s eyes adjusted to the darkness she could just make out the line of his jaw, and his tousled, deliberately messy hair. His blue eyes looked black in the darkness.
“I thought you would be out searching for the Pegasus,” Quinn blurted out without thinking and for a second his face fell.
“We just got back..., wait a minute... you’ve been keeping tabs on us,” the indignation in his voice was understandable, “you tried to avoid me?”
“Yes,” she replied defiantly.
“Quinn, don’t do this. Please. You’re one of us.”
“What about Jack and Ava?” Quinn hissed, the disappointment in his voice stirring up feelings that she didn’t want to feel.
“What about Jack and Ava?”
“Don’t you care about them at all? Don’t you think they deserve better than what the Guardians have in store for them?”
“How would you know what the Guardians have in store for them? It’s hardly as if you ever stop to listen.” His comment caught her off guard but she quickly returned to the attack.
“Your children deserve to be loved, Tristan!”
“I do love them!” he thundered, grabbing her by her shoulders and shaking her so hard her teeth rattled in her mouth. “They are my children, Quinn. Mine! Not yours! You don’t get to decide what’s best for them.” He released her suddenly and her injured leg gave out. She dropped to the ground painfully, her thoughts a maelstrom of confusion. Tristan knelt beside her, seemingly contrite after his angry outburst.
“Quinn, I’m sorry. I just... miss her, so much,” his voice broke and Quinn’s eyes widened in surprise. She had not spoken to Tristan since Avery’s funeral, and that had only been to yell a few harsh words of accusation at him before her father had dragged her away. Tristan had not responded and Quinn had built him up to be a monster in her mind over the past two years. He had visited the children very seldom and Quinn had always made sure that she was long gone by the time he arrived, leaving her father to chaperone. She realised this was the first time she was witnessing Tristan’s reaction to Avery’s death firsthand, and he seemed genuinely distraught.
The Cathedral of Cliffdale Page 10
