Amber (Amber trilogy Book 1)

by Hati Bell

  She walked to his side and gave him a hug. She could feel the tension leave his body. Perhaps she did know how to comfort him after all. “Love you, too.”

  He smiled. “Now go change into something warm.”

  She was halfway up the stairs when she remembered she’d forgot to ask him about the Scale. She pivoted on her heels, just to catch him speaking to her mother’s picture. It somehow felt wrong to interrupt.

  “I won’t allow her to end up like you, Em,” he said, sounding forlorn. “If necessary I will send her to Thomas.”

  His voice was edged in so much pain that she couldn’t even bring herself to protest against his plan to send her away to her uncle. She was sure about one thing though: she was not leaving. She had too many reasons to stay, one of them waiting for her in her room.

  Drake was standing before her book case. “I’ve never been in a dryad’s house before.”

  “You’ve been here plenty of times,” she countered, as she sat on the edge of her bed.

  “I’ve never been into one invited,” he corrected himself. “Your father would never approve.”

  “You can’t know that,” she protested. Unlike dryads, her father wasn’t born and bred with contempt against dragons.

  “Then why haven’t you told him I’m here?”

  Yeah, she should have seen that one coming. “I didn’t want to take any risks,” she admitted.

  “Neither does your father. If I were him I’d keep my dryad daughter far away from dragons as well.”

  “Why?”

  He turned around and went through her DVD collection. “We are fickle creatures, sometimes just slaves to our emotions. There’s a reason why fire and water are opposites. They can’t mix without destroying each other. Just like dragons and dryads. Some things are impossible, because they will always remain out of reach.”

  Could he be any less subtle? Luckily she was optimistic enough for two. “I don’t believe that. We are the masters of our own fate.”

  “Your visions. Do their outcome ever change?”

  Amber pulled a face. Another one she should’ve seen coming. “Not as far as I can recall… yet. Still, people make their own choices, forging their own future. Nothing is set in stone. Dryads and dragons aren’t compelled by some mysterious force to hate each other for all eternity. Maybe one day we could have peace.”

  “Peace?”

  “Why not? My mother believed we could end the hostilities if we just tried to hash it out. I believe that as well.”

  “You’re a silver-lining kind of person. Not surprised to hear that.” He stared at her mum’s picture placed in front of the Highlander DVD set. “You look like her. What happened to her?”

  “She died in a fire in our family cabin. I was three years old, don’t remember her much.”

  “I’ve heard about that. Didn’t know it was your mother.” He hesitated for a second. “The fire-it wasn’t an accident.”

  “No, it wasn’t.”

  He continued to stare at her as if she were a puzzle he wanted to solve. “It is said the fire was started by my kind. Still, you don’t hate me, though you have every reason to.”

  She draped her arms over her knees. “Hating others because I never got to know my mother is easy. Just like being pissed for being cursed with a gift that sometimes makes me want to pull out my hair. But that’s not what my mother would have wanted for me. She’d want me to be happy. According to my father, she was the eternal optimist. I must’ve inherited that from her.”

  “Your inheritance is much better than mine.”

  “Come to think of it, you were going to tell me how it is that you live in Olympus, while you grew up in the Fire Mountain.”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “Olympus?”

  “That’s what we call Seven Hill,” she confessed.

  He hummed. “I guess that’s not a bad analogy. Kincaid does indeed look down from the Dome on poor mortals as if they were lying at his feet. However, what you call Olympus, is Satan’s lair to me.”

  Those ominous words were the start of Amber’s journey through dragon territory.

  FOURTEEN

  The next morning Amber woke up feverish and with a slight ringing in her ears. She didn’t have to open her eyes to know Drake had left. They had talked for hours. He’d probably left the moment her eyes drooped.

  She took a look at the clock and groaned when she saw she’d overslept. Once again the alarm on her phone hadn’t worked. She pushed the screen, but apparently the battery had died on her. The thing didn’t even last a whole day anymore.

  She rolled out of bed and hopped into the shower. Ten minutes later she strolled down the stairs, grabbed her coat and hurried to the bus stand. The morning light was unusually bright and hurt her eyes, which was odd since it was a clouded day. There was a throbbing behind her eyelids as if someone was holding a drum session inside her corneas. A cold sweat formed on the small of her back, leaving a cold spot, and her hands started to shake.

  Something was wrong. Very, very wrong. Her heart was in her throat when suddenly a horrible thought formed in her mind.

  She got in the bus, her head filled with questions. Too agitated to even grab a sandwich for breakfast from the cafeteria, or greet Ian who was talking to the football coach, she rushed to the nurse’s office, closing the door behind her.

  Nurse Croft stood behind her desk and looked up when she heard Amber enter. “My note is on the corner of my desk,” she greeted her.

  Amber got the note and put it in her pocket. After that last disastrous basketball game she hadn’t partaken in gym class again. Bull, however, insisted on a weekly note from the nurse.

  “You look worn out,” Croft remarked. “That doesn’t surprise me, especially not after the events of last night. I doubt whether you’ve had a decent night of sleep for a while now.”

  “It’s been a rough few weeks,” Amber admitted.

  She went to the couch placed against the wall. The leather cracked under her weight when she sat on it.

  It hadn’t been too long ago since Drake had dropped her on the same spot. She was having another migraine attack back then, pain invading her mind. A pain that had disappeared when he’d held her close to him. She’d been so grateful for the moment of respite his dragon’s skin had given her, subduing her pain. His body’s comfort she had used quite often lately, forming a pattern at nights. Snuggling against him. An innocent hug growing into something more. First a peck on the cheek, initiated by her, then Drake turning that into a feverish kiss. Her first kiss. This had continued a few times, until a few nights ago when things had really started to heat up and his hands had slid under her shirt and he’d gotten on top of her. When his fingers had slid over her breast she’d moaned, and he’d jumped off the bed, cursing at himself for losing control. They didn’t talk about what had happened, pretending it never did. Yeah, they were dysfunctional like that. She somehow knew that if she’d voice her desires, he wouldn’t step back into bed with her. Despite her needing him kissing her again, she needed his body even more as a way to dull her pain.

  Something that, according to Meg, shouldn’t have had any side effects. When would she learn not to take Meg at her word?

  “Tell me what’s wrong,” Croft said encouragingly.

  Amber summed up a list of the symptoms she’d been showing since morning, while the nurse was doing some poking and prodding. “I’m afraid of what’s happening to me,” she whispered.

  Croft looked pensive. “It’s odd for your migraine to have evolved into a series of symptoms of which a few resemble that of an addiction. Are you on some new meds, perchance?”

  This was the part that could get a little tricky. “You could say that.”

  Croft looked surprised. “What’s it called? I thought we had already tried everything?”

  She came in prepared for this question. “It’s called… draketamol. It’s like a potion I got from a mix of dragon skin and herbs. Meg compared it to morphine. She s
aid it wouldn’t have any side effects. Obviously she was wrong.” She didn’t feel the least bit bad about throwing Meg under the bus. It beat the alternative: telling the truth.

  “Never heard of it.”

  Amber didn’t dare to look Croft in the eye, afraid she might give something away. “That’s only natural, right, giving the state of affairs between dryads and dragons. We’re not exactly best buds.”

  “No, we’re not,” Croft murmured.

  She buttoned up her blouse and got off the bench. It didn’t seem like Croft could be of any help.

  The nurse grabbed Amber’s hand and gave her a stern look. “You shouldn’t take that potion anymore.”

  Croft, late at night in a part of the library she didn’t recognize. Running from bookcase to bookcase, grabbing books left and right. Her eyes were frantic and her frown got deeper and deeper.

  When Amber automatically recoiled, the nurse let her go. She wondered what business Croft would have in the library’s restricted area. “I’ll try, but I’m not making any promises.”

  “I wish I could be of more help, but this is outside my area of expertise. There is, however, one thing certain about any form of addiction: it will return if you continue doing what caused it in the first place. No drug is without its side effects.”

  It wasn’t what Amber had wanted to hear, but still she was relieved that apparently she wasn’t going crazy. Yet. Bags under her eyes and a skin sporting a clammy fever weren’t exactly beauty ideals she aspired to, but she could live with it. “If that’s the price I have to pay to not end up in Bedlam, I’ll gladly pay it.”

  Croft raised her brows. “You’re afraid to end up in a mental hospital?”

  “You seem to have forgotten what happened to my great-grandmother.”

  “I certainly haven’t. Gertrude’s symptoms, which were considered to be a sign of madness back then, manifested physically with her as well.”

  “Exactly.” Gertrude was a local legend now whose horror stories were told over a campfire.

  “The two don’t necessarily have to be the same. Medicine wasn’t as evolved back then as it is nowadays. There could have been other reasons for Gertrude’s seizures. According to her file she suffered from afflictions you don’t have, like agoraphobia and claustrophobia.”

  “Gertrude only saw ghosts and monsters in the end. She almost strangled her own child,” Amber said softly. “You know it all started with her visions. The sooner they start the stronger they get. Gertrude was only a few years younger than I am when she had her first vision. In the end they had to tie her to her own bed so she wouldn’t claw out her own eyes. When I think about her, it’s like I see my own future.”

  “There’s no reason for you to think you will end up like her. She could have suffered from an actual mental illness. We can’t tell for sure, because back in the day they didn’t record everything as we do now. Some obscure potion isn’t the solution,” Croft said, her voice stern. “Not if it causes the symptoms you just described. This is a dangerous path you follow, which could end really badly for you.”

  And wasn’t that just the thing? Drake could indeed lead to her end. Once again she saw herself going up in flames. She compared it to being tied up to some hospital bed, unable to tell fiction from reality. A quick death seemed more merciful.

  She said good by to the nurse and left for geometry class, which had already started. The checkup had taken longer than she’d expected.

  When she walked inside the classroom she immediately felt the tension in the room. The teacher was drawing some intricate formula on the board. The hearing-impaired teacher didn’t pay any attention to the whispering behind her back.

  Dave Addison sat in the back with a dark scowl marring his face. Benn was staring out the window, looking bored. Ian was present as well, talking with one of his football mates. Nothing new there.

  Amber caught words like “poor Fiona” and “Kincaid’s Dome” and suddenly realized any dragons from Seven Hill were absent. She quickly took her place next to Pinky. “What’s going on?” she whispered.

  “You’re kidding, right?” she whispered back. “I left you like three messages. You must have lived under a rock these past hours to not know what happened in Seven Hill.”

  “My phone died on me, so I didn’t get any messages.”

  Pinky scooted closer. “The golden hills of Seven Hill changed into a war zone last night. It was reported as a series of unprecedented violent robberies, but we know better, now don’t we? The culprits were probably a group of goblins. Kincaid’s Dome was their main target, but other Seven Hill-yups didn’t come out unscathed either. Jimmy’s mum got called away in the middle of the night for an emergency meeting with the Council. When she returned this morning she told him to stay far away from the dragons. She said, and I quote: “It has begun.” I’m so glad I’m not a dragon.”

  Amber realized she hadn’t seen Drake yet and a knot formed in her stomach. “Are there any casualties?”

  “Fiona’s brother Jonah is in the hospital with a severe concussion. Apparently he got stabbed as well. They don’t know if he’s going to make it. Seven Hill is mourning.”

  This explained Ian’s grin while talking to his coach. Jonah being out of commission for the football team put Ian back at being the striker. “So the goblins only targeted Seven Hill?”

  Pinky nodded and hummed. “No need to worry. Drake’s just fine. If Kincaid’s heir had bitten the dust the school would be swarming with reporters by now.”

  Amber opened her mouth to deny any interest in Drake, but Pinky cocked an eyebrow. “It’s not what you think,” she eventually said. She was just worried about him because she had a personal stake in his health. No Drake meant seemingly endless horrific nightmares. A little voice in her head just snorted.

  “At least you’re not denying it,” Pinky said. “Also, the color on your cheeks would have given you away. You so don’t have a poker face.”

  Suddenly she felt ashamed for not confiding in her bestie. “We need to talk.”

  “Bet your ass we do,” Pinky said.

  “After class,” Amber promised. When she looked at the clock her eyes met Dave’s frustrated gaze. “What’s up with Dave? You’d think he’d be celebrating after what happened last night.” He was well-known for his disgust for dragons.

  Pinky smirked. “He had a falling-out with his girlfriend, Lisa. They were fighting in the hall right before class started.”

  As soon as class finished, Pinky put her arm through hers and hauled her with. She lead them into an empty classroom, closed the door behind them, and sat on a chair. “So, talk.”

  Amber pondered what she should tell. This was it-the moment of truth. “You can’t tell this to anyone, Pink. Not even to Cally. She already has enough on her plate.”

  Pinky rolled her eyes and looked insulted. “When have I ever done that?”

  Never. But I’ve never told you that I was going to die before. “Sorry. Just let me finish my story without interrupting me, okay?”

  She started telling about the first day of school, not leaving any details out. When she started about how she met Drake, Pinky’s eyes got dreamy. Yup, her sassy friend was a romantic at heart. However, her sparkle disappeared and turned into a look of horror when Amber told about her vision. When she finished her story, a silence fell.

  “So, let me get this straight,” Pinky eventually said. “You saw yourself in the arms of a dragon. And not any dragon, no, one who’s practically royalty. How romantic, but also so screwed up. Oh, well, the best love stories start with hate and end in a tragedy. Romeo and Juliet. Tony and Maria. I can’t believe I missed all of this during the first week of school.”

  “Love stories? I’m going to burn like a bonfire and am possibly turning into a junkie.” There was nothing close to romantic about that.

  Pinky put her hands on her hips, looking more like herself: confident and determined. “Do you know why the best love stories end up in a trage
dy?”

  “No, but I’m sure you’re about to tell me.”

  “It’s because the heroine never listens to her bestie. A mistake you are not going to make.”

  Amber grimaced at the comparison. “I’m no heroine. Also, there’s no great love story.”

  “Are you absolutely sure you saw flames?”

  “Positive.”

  “Maybe they were symbolic flames.”

  “Maybe.” She understood Pinky’s need to look for a plausible explanation for her vision that would mean it was going to end in butterflies and cotton candy instead of her doom. Wasn’t that what she had hoped for-still was hoping for-herself?

  “I refuse to believe you will literally go up in flames,” Pinky insisted. “Spontaneous human combustions only happen in movies. There has to be another explanation. Having said that, I still think it’s better you stay clear from you know who. Don’t worry; we’re going to fix this.”

  In less than half an hour Amber’s problem had become their problem. Perhaps it was selfish of her to burden Pinky with her troubles, but she would lie if she said it didn’t lift her spirits a bit. She guessed the old saying was true: trouble shared is trouble halved.

  FIFTEEN

  It was the night of Bryan’s surprise birthday party and Amber was bouncing with excitement, standing with Jimmy by a table at the Oasis.

  “I’m gonna get a drink. Can I get you anything?” he asked.

  “An iced tea please,” she said, while looking at the staff of Oasis, feeling sorry for them.

  They were suffering under Cindy’s iron fist, ordering them around. The popular club, known for its modern and trendy design, was changed into the decor of an Egyptian costume drama. Everything–the lamps, the bar, the chairs, and the tables–was covered in shiny, gold colored cellophane. The male waiters were dressed in pleated, wraparound skirts, with a belt at the waist. The waitresses wore gold-colored pencil dresses, their eyes painted in Tutankhamen style. Industrial music blasted from the speakers and the place was packed. In Seven Hill they might be mourning, but the Oasis was full of life, filled with students celebrating an early weekend the week before Christmas.