by Megg Jensen
The queen went to the armory on the wall, grabbing a sharp metal device. Like the wishbone of a chicken, two metal bars were connected at the top, with two spikes at the bottom of each bar. Jacinda squeezed and the spikes clashed together with a sickening metallic scratch.
“Do you know what this does?” Jacinda asked Tressa, taking slow, small steps toward her.
Tressa didn’t answer. She couldn’t have uttered a comprehensible word if she’d tried. Her mouth felt as if it were filled with cotton, her throat tight, overflowing with the erratic beat of her heart.
“It will tear at the flesh of your breasts. It will puncture holes. Ugly holes, not pretty piercings. No, the ripper will mimic the teeth of a famished tiger, eating his first meal in days.” Jacinda smirked. “But don’t worry, Miranda will heal you before you die. I wouldn’t want you bleeding to death before I get my answers. Miranda, would you please…”
Miranda took a long drag of her pipe, then placed it on a nearby shelf. She laid her hands on Tressa’s head. “At your leisure, Jacinda.”
She clanked the ripper together a couple more times. Lunging for Tressa, she snatched the front of her dress, ripping it in two, exposing Tressa’s breasts to the cold air.
Tressa jerked against her bonds in an effort to cover her body, but the ropes only dug in harder, keeping her from defending herself against this insane woman.
Jacinda smiled. “Nervous, are you? It’s okay. Most women are. They don’t like being tortured. Occasionally the men enjoy it, but only rarely. As soon as you tell me what I need to know, I’ll set you free.”
Tears spilled down Tressa’s cheeks. “I already told you. I’m from Hutton’s Bridge.”
“Liar,” Jacinda screamed, her eyes feral. She lunged again.
Tressa closed her eyes and held her breath, waiting for the pain.
Nothing came except a loud thud on the floor.
She opened one eye slowly.
Jacinda lay sprawled on the floor, the ripper next to her. “Why did you do that?” she screamed at Miranda.
The old woman scurried to Jacinda’s side, whispering in her ear.
“She’s what?” Jacinda roared. Her head swung, and she looked Tressa straight in the eyes. “You’re pregnant.” She spat out the words as if they were chunks of vomit left in her mouth after purging.
Tressa forced herself to appear defeated. Wounded. Fearful. Despite the joy rising in her chest, she bit her lip and cried.
Pregnant. After all this time she was finally pregnant. Love filled her heart. Hope. A new determination to fight her way free.
"So that's why he's marrying you." Jacinda laughed manically, her head falling backward. "He doesn't love you. He probably doesn't even like you." She poked Tressa on the arm with the ripper's fangs. Blood dripped, fresh and coppery. "Are you a whore? Did he pay you for one night, and you tricked him by poking a hole in the linen sheath meant to hold his seed?" Jacinda took a swipe at Tressa's other shoulder.
Pain seared though her veins. It mingled with her joy. Pregnant. And with Bastian's baby! They'd tried so hard back in Hutton's Bridge, but she had never been able to conceive. Now they could have everything they wanted. Tressa hardened. She had another life to protect. The most precious life in Dragonlands. Which meant she had to give Jacinda exactly what she wanted.
"Jarrett loves me!" she insisted. "I am no whore. He will marry me as soon as he arrives and it will be for love. He does not even know I'm pregnant."
Jacinda dropped the ripper. It clattered on the floor. "He does not know? Truly?" She stepped closer and closer until her nose was just a breath away from Tressa's.
Tressa pulled on the ropes, wanting to wrap her fingers around Jacinda's throat. Still, she was strung too tightly and couldn't do more than flick her wrists. “He doesn’t. I didn’t even know.”
"You will not tell him," Jacinda said with a snarl.
"I won't. I swear," Tressa answered, desperate. Anything to get free.
"You will not tell him because you will not remember." Jacinda spun on her heel, stalking away. "Miranda, call the royal mage. Ask him to erase this girl's memory from the moment she arrived here."
"No!" Tressa screamed. "Don't take this away from me! Please! I swear I won't tell, just don't make me forget!"
Miranda cackled, following Jacinda out of the room, leaving Tressa alone.
"I won't forget you," she promised her baby. "I swear. No matter what they do to me, I will not forget."
Tears spilled from Tressa's eyes as she gasped for breath. "I will not forget," she repeated over and over again until a man entered the room.
His head was buried deep within a royal blue robe, decorated with the stars of night. His large, thin hands rose, resting on her face. "It will not hurt. Do not fight me." His voice sounded like glass breaking.
Tressa tried to appear brave. She tried to hold back the tears as the wisps of memories flew from her consciousness.
Chapter Seventeen
For days Elinor and Bastian helped Connor care for Fotia. After he’d changed back into a human, no one uttered a word about it, as if they were used to humans turning into dragons all the time.
Elinor spent as much time with Fotia as Connor did. She cooed at the dragon, let Fotia sit on her lap, and even fed Fotia food from her hand. Bastian couldn’t quite convince himself to try. He liked his fingers too much. One small slip and he’d lose a digit. At night, they all snuggled together, draping the two cloaks across them to stay warm. Fotia slept at their feet.
“I think I should head back to town and get more food. We’re almost out.” Elinor motioned toward the mouth of the cave. “It would take me nearly a day to walk there and back, but I can make it if I start now.”
“Alone?” Bastian asked. “Are you sure?”
“There’s plenty of food here,” Connor said. “The fish are tasty.”
Elinor laughed, and Bastian joined in, though it was a nervous reaction. He still hadn’t gotten used to the idea that his friend, who had always been as human as Bastian, was now also a dragon. But he was determined to protect him until Connor could get his memory back. Once they understood how he’d changed, Bastian hoped they could change him back to the way he used to be.
“While the fish is spectacular, I’d like some bread.” Elinor licked her lips and winked at Bastian who’d cooked up a filet for each of them the night before over a fire. “And apples. And some jerky.”
She grabbed one of the cloaks and twirled it in the air. It landed squarely on her shoulders. “I’ll be back before you miss me.”
“Be careful out there,” Bastian said. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come?”
Elinor’s lips curved into a smile. “If I show up in Ashoom with you, a tall, muscular redheaded man that every guard in town is looking for, we’ll never get out of there alive. I’d also like to find out if Tressa and Jarrett have returned with news of your village.”
Bastian hadn’t thought to ask her to check on them, but he was glad she’d remembered. If there was news…maybe even if Tressa was back, they could be reunited by the end of the night. “Thank you.” He still felt guilty letting her go alone, but sending Connor wasn’t an option either. “Fine,” he said, giving in. “Promise me you’ll keep your eyes open.”
She laid her hand on his arm. “I promise. I’ll come back in one piece.” The sparkle returned to her eyes. “And I will have a lot of food.”
Bastian watched her sashay out of the cave. Connor cleared his throat and Bastian turned back. “What?”
“You fancy her.”
“Her?” Bastian asked. He shook his head. “No, I’m in love with Tressa. Do you remember her?”
“The woman who killed Stacia?” Connor asked. Over the last few days, Bastian had filled him in on what happened. Connor still couldn’t remember his life before Stacia, but he did recall Tressa and helping her. “There’s something special about her. I knew that when I entered the battle. It wasn’t only seeing her atta
ck Stacia. I recognized her.”
Bastian’s eyebrows rose. “Really? You didn’t mention that before.”
Connor waved his hands. “No, not in the way you think. Remembering her was like recalling a dream before it fades away. I knew her, yes, but I couldn’t tell you anything about her.”
“Do you want me to tell you more about Hazel?” Bastian asked. The last time he’d brought up Connor’s wife, Connor had claimed it was time to feed Fotia and abruptly left the cave.
Connor’s smile disappeared. “No.” He stood up, brushed the dirt off his pants, and proceeded to make his rounds with the eggs. He gave each a loving pat and whispered his secrets to them.
“Why not?” Bastian pressed. “She loved you very much and you loved her. Don’t you want to know more?”
Connor whipped around, anger flaming in his eyes.
Bastian feared for a moment Connor might change into a dragon and burn him to a crisp. With his ashes scattered across the cave floor, Elinor might never know what happened to him. Still, he held his ground.
“How would you feel if someone told you about a woman you once loved with all your heart and soul? One you would die for. No matter how many times your friend tried to remind you, what if you couldn’t remember her?” Connor relaxed his clenched fists. “I have to focus on what I do know and that’s these eggs. They need me. Fotia needs me. Would my wife accept them if I went back to her? They are my family now.”
“I understand,” Bastian said. It was only partly true. Still, he wouldn’t push anymore. “If you change your mind…”
“I’ll ask,” Connor answered.
They worked in silence the rest of the day. Connor cared for Fotia, changing into his dragon form only once to feed her. Bastian gathered fallen branches for their fire. He jumped at every bird skittering through the trees, every frog croak, and every whistle of the wind in the leaves.
It wouldn’t be long until Elinor was back with news of Tressa. Or maybe even Tressa herself. He couldn’t help but hope Jarrett stayed far away.
As the sun sank behind the trees, Bastian built a fire near the entrance to the cave. He tossed on one stick after another. The fire leapt in the air, shooting flickering lights around the cave.
A twig cracked outside. Bastian paused, holding the last branch in his hands. No other sounds followed. Maybe it was just a squirrel or a rabbit. Surely Elinor couldn't make so little noise, especially not if she was bringing Tressa back with her. He expected low whispers. Maybe a giggle or two. Tressa would be as thrilled to see Bastian as he would be to see her.
"Bastian?" Elinor crept into the cave, her hood drawn tightly over her face. "Are you and Connor alone?"
"Except for Fotia, yes." Bastian dropped the stick on the fire. He glanced over her head. "Where's Tressa?"
"She wasn't in Ashoom. She hasn't been back yet, according to my sources. They've been watching for her."
Bastian tried not to let the disappointment show. Last time she promised they'd avenge Connor together. Instead she’d taken off in the middle of the night leaving him alone in the forest. This time she'd left with Jarrett, promising to come back, and hadn’t shown.
Either she was hurt or she'd lied to him—again.
"That's fine," Bastian said, glad for once that Connor didn't have his memory. His friend would have known he wasn't being honest. "Just let me know if you do hear anything."
"Well, I have other news that might impact everything."
Bastian raised a ginger eyebrow. "What?"
"As you know, the kingdoms are all run by a leader with a dragon. Now the Blue has no leader—and no dragon." Elinor stopped and took a deep breath, her hand over her heart. "Sorry, I'd been running for a while."
While she caught her breath, Bastian's mind raced. The Blue did have a dragon, but no leader. If anyone found out they were hiding Connor here, along with a group of dragon eggs, everyone would be hunting for them.
"We have to move Connor and the eggs, quick. Where's a safe place?" For a moment Bastian cursed himself for eliminating the fog around Hutton's Bridge. They could have hidden there.
Elinor looked up at him, a smile gracing her curved lips. "We don't have to hide, Bastian. You can take the throne if Connor agrees to be your dragon."
For the first time since Elinor came back, Connor spoke. "I'd rather that than hide the baby dragons out here. There are tunnels under the castle and the town where I can hide them. It's where Stacia hid us before."
Bastian's hands fell to his side. "Me? A leader?"
"With a blue dragon, no one can stop you, Bastian." Elinor clapped her hands together.
"What do you get out of this?" he asked her, suspicious.
"I only want to study the baby dragons. That's all." A small pout formed on her face. "What did you think I wanted?"
Bastian didn't have an answer. It just seemed to him that people didn't make offers unless they had a personal reason. "Who says I even want to be a ruler? I don't know anything about leading a town, much less sitting on a throne."
"It's that or run." Elinor crouched next to the fire, rubbing her hands. "The rumors about Connor's existence are spreading. The town is abuzz with talk of the blue dragon escaping. They're forming groups to hunt for him now. I would expect them to find us in a matter of days."
"I will need advisors. Guards. How am I supposed to find people I can trust so quickly?"
“I can help you with that, Bastian." Elinor stood and took his hands in hers. "Trust me."
He looked into her blue eyes, lit by the glow of the fire. He nodded and looked at Connor. "Are you sure you want this?"
"I don't know where else to take my children. If you can keep them safe..." He trailed off, his hands on the egg he'd claimed was his biological child.
Bastian looked at Fotia bounding around the cave like a puppy. Elinor's eyes were so hopeful and Connor, his best friend, wanted him to do this.
"Okay. I'll take the throne, by force if I have to."
Chapter Eighteen
The next morning, Bastian, with red knuckles, held on to the scales of the dragon’s back. Connor’s back. He still had trouble reconciling the dragon with his friend. He’d seen Connor transform more than once, and still, the whole idea seemed so far-fetched. “Are you sure this will work?” Bastian asked Elinor.
Elinor stood and smiled. “Yes, it will. You look so regal up there. Like you’ve been a ruler your whole life.” She crossed her arms over her chest, nodding. “Besides, if you fly in on Connor, who will stand against you? No one, that’s who.”
Bastian forced a smile and cleared his throat. He wasn’t a leader. He’d commanded the mission out of Hutton’s Bridge and through the fog, but that didn’t mean he should take a throne.
“They fear and respect the dragon, Bastian.” Elinor reminded him.
“I know,” he said, “and they hate the leader.”
No one had liked Stacia, but with the power of the dragon they hadn’t really been given a choice.
“It’s the only way to keep Connor and the babies safe. We have to.” Elinor looked back toward the cave. Fotia pranced around in the entrance, lost in her own little game. “They’ll kill her. Do you want that?”
Maybe he did. If the baby died and the eggs were smashed before the others could hatch, then Bastian and Connor could escape. They could find a way to turn Connor back into the human he once was. Restore his memories. Reunite him with Hazel and his boys. Then the nightmare would be over. Everything would go back to the way it was.
“Do you?” Elinor asked again, tapping her foot on the ground.
Connor’s neck snaked around until one slitted brown eye was staring into Bastian’s face.
“No, I don’t,” Bastian said. He attempted to put some conviction behind it instead of the grumbling he had in his head.
"You should ride in with me." Bastian held down a hand to Elinor. He wasn't comfortable storming into the town and claiming the throne alone. Not even with Connor undernea
th him, posing as his muscle.
"I can't. I'll meet you in the castle soon, though. I promise." She lifted her skirt, showing off her heavy boots. "I'll walk back eventually."
"Afraid?" Bastian asked her.
"Of course not." The toe of one of her boots ground into the dirt.
She'd seemed fearless every moment since he'd met her. For the first time, Bastian found a chink in her armor. "Afraid of heights?" he asked. After climbing to the forest canopy, Bastian was pretty sure he could handle the flight. Probably.
"If I ride in with you, people might assume we're together," Elinor said, placing emphasis on 'together.' "My role in your rule will be nothing more than a healer. I don't want to be on public display.”
"Fair enough." Bastian looked at the rising sun. "When should we go?"
"As soon as possible. Once you're secure in the throne room, Connor can come back for the eggs. I'll keep them safe until then."
"You sure you'll be okay?" Bastian was surprised how much he cared about her already. It had only been a few days, but Elinor had grown on him. He owed his life to her, yes, but he was surprised to find he truly enjoyed her company. It had been so long since anyone other than Connor or Tressa had made him smile.
Elinor cocked her head to the side. "I've been taking care of myself for the last eighteen years. One more day won't change that." A little smile graced her lips. "You should ride off now, Bastian. You have the element of surprise. Take Ashoom by storm and claim it. The Blue throne is yours."
If the only requisite to taking the throne was controlling a dragon, then yes, the throne did belong to him. He didn't want it, though. As soon as he could give it up to someone better, he'd happily hand it over. "Are you ready, Connor?" he asked.
The dragon's head bobbed up and down. Under his legs, Connor's body moved. The ground swiftly fell away as Connor took flight. Wind blew through Bastian's hair. He glanced down at Elinor. She waved as Fotia pranced around her feet, flapping her own wings.
