by Megg Jensen
In front of him, Elinor kept her head covered with her hood and her head bowed to her chest. She hadn't moved in so long. He wanted to lean over and whisper in her ear. Ask if she'd ever been to the Sands before or what they could expect upon landing. But her anger at his decision to fly to the Sands cautioned him to hold his tongue.
His eyelids drifted closed, but he forced them open again. If he fell asleep, he'd fall to his death. He focused on the land below him, sand stretching in all directions. A small patch of green caught his eye, and he forgot his pledge to leave Elinor be.
"Do you see that?" he yelled in her ear, pointing toward the strange island of green sitting in the sea of sand
Elinor nodded. "It's an oasis. It might be a good idea to take a break. They should accept us since Connor is with us."
Bastian nudged Connor with his heels. The long neck swung around and Connor's huge brown eyes looked at Bastian. Bastian pointed again toward the oasis. Connor nodded his head and swooped to the side.
The green rushed toward them with the slowing beat of Connor's wings. Bastian guessed his friend had to be tired from all the flying. The break would do them all good.
Connor landed carefully just outside the oasis on a hot patch of sand. Bastian slid down and reached up for Elinor.
Instead of slipping into his arms, she turned onto her stomach and slid down Connor, landing firmly on her feet. She squared her shoulders and faced him. "Let me lead the way. The people of the Sands are accustomed to strong female leaders."
Without waiting for a response, Elinor turned on one heel. She headed toward the oasis, her hands held out in front of her, palms up. "We come in peace, asking for hospitality."
Two guards stepped out of a nearby tent, their long, curved swords at the ready. "Speak your intentions."
"We ask only for a few moments of rest. Water for the two of us and for our dragon. We come from Ashoom and are headed toward Risos for the wedding."
A smile spread across the guard's dark face, his white teeth gleaming in the harsh sunlight. "Ah yes, Jarrett is to be married today. He and his bride passed through here just days ago. A strange girl. Not so beautiful."
Bastian's memory of Tressa hadn't dulled. She was the most beautiful woman in Hutton's Bridge. Perhaps a bit rough around the edges, but she was the only woman he'd ever really loved.
The guard shrugged. "But who can say why love strikes as it does." He sheathed his sword and held out an arm toward them. "Come and know our hospitality. We will supply you with what you require."
Elinor flashed Bastian a quick smile. It fell from her face as quickly as it had appeared.
Bastian held out a hand to her, willing to be her escort. Elinor chose to walk next to him without touching. He glanced at her again, wondering what could have made her hold back. From the moment they'd met, she had let her feelings fly free, but now she seemed closed. Women. He would never understand them.
The guard led them into a tent. The wall was covered in shimmering blue silks. A fan of feathers moved up and down above them, allowing them slight relief from the heat. Bastian looked longingly at the pillows on the floor. They beckoned, promising a quiet place to nap. Instead of giving into his exhaustion, he reached out a hand to accept the cup of water offered to him by a woman who'd entered the tent behind them.
A cool liquid streamed down the back of his throat, coating it with a soft, sweet syrup. "What is this?"
"Nectar." The woman's thick accent surprised him, along with the flowing locks of brown hair down to her waist. Her skin, as pale as his, stood out amongst the dark skinned people of the Sands. "It will not only sate your thirst, but it will also fortify you for the remainder of your journey."
"That's enough," the guard said. He didn't strike her, but his tone implied punishment if she dared speak again. She slunk out of the room, her chin dipped and her head low. "I am sorry. She does not yet know her place. The women from the Meadowlands are pliable after some time. She will learn her place."
"Is she a slave?" Elinor asked, taking a second sip from her cup.
The guard shook his head. "No, no. We don't take on slaves here. She came to us for work and we provided. But she does not have all the rights afforded to our people. After all, she is not one of us."
Elinor nodded. "We appreciate your hospitality. Without a break, I am not sure our dragon could have made the remainder of the journey."
"He is magnificent." The man looked at Bastian, his eyes quizzical. "Is he yours?"
Bastian dipped his head once. "He is."
"That means you are on the throne of the Blue."
"I am." Bastian was uncomfortable with the questioning. He still couldn't wrap his mind around the developments of the last few days. He didn't want to be a leader, nor did he want to traipse around the Dragonlands claiming to be something he wasn't. Not in his heart anyway.
"Bastian is humble," Elinor said, taking control of the conversation. "He is, in fact, the new leader of the Blue. He was instrumental in taking down Queen Stacia, along with your friend Jarrett and his bride to be. They are all very brave people." She set the cup down on a nearby table. "And we should be on our way. We don't want to miss the wedding, do we?"
Bastian watched her carefully. Her eyes were dull. She didn't mean a word of it. He opened his mouth, ready to ask her if she'd prefer to stay at the oasis rather than travel to the wedding. He thought better of it and pursed his lips together. If Elinor didn't want to go, she could say so herself. Bastian wouldn't speak for her.
"Yes," he said, setting his cup next to hers. "If our dragon has had enough water, then I am ready to continue. Thank you."
The guard smiled. "Give my best regards to Jarrett. Had I known he planned to marry the girl so quickly, I might have offered him one last night of freedom with one of the girls here. Now he'll be tied down to that surly, homely girl." He shrugged. "An odd choice when he could have had the queen."
"The queen?" Elinor raised an eyebrow.
"Yes," the guard answered. "Jarrett has long been the queen's favorite. Why he would bring around a common girl when he could have the most beautiful woman in the all the lands escapes me." The guard sighed. "I suppose Jarrett is as free as all of us." He led them out of the tent, back into the blinding sun.
Bastian wrapped his scarf around his face again, and Elinor did the same. He glanced at Connor. Water glistened around his snout and his tongue lazed out the side of his mouth. Yes, he appeared to have had his fill too.
Elinor stood next to Connor. She reached up, grabbing hold of his scales, and attempted to hoist herself onto his back. She failed. Three times.
Bastian stood back, watching her. Why wouldn't she wait for him to help her like he had the other times?
The guard sidled up to Bastian. "Is she your concubine?"
"My..." Bastian glanced at Elinor again as she attempted a fourth try. "No, no. She’s my friend.” At least he hoped so.
The guard laughed again. "She is intrigued by you. Be careful with that one. She is strong, and she may not take no for an answer. You may end up her concubine before you know it."
Elinor? Interested in him? The guard was wrong. Bastian clapped him on the shoulder. "Thank you again. We will pass on your good wishes to the groom and bride." After he punched Jarrett and confronted Tressa. Maybe then Bastian would remember to wish them luck.
He strode over to Elinor. "May I help you?"
She grunted. "Fine."
Bastian placed his hands carefully under her arms and lifted Elinor onto Connor's back. She weighed no more than a child, but he could feel her curves and he knew she was no child under the layers of clothes.
"Thank you," she muttered. Her eyes lingered for a moment too long on his.
Bastian swung up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She sank into his chest, then stiffened just as quickly. Connor's wings unfurled, and within moments they were soaring in the sky again, headed toward the confrontation Bastian both anticipated and dreade
d.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Tressa and Jarrett held hands and walked down a long hallway toward the garden where they would be wed. He'd promised her that as soon as the ceremony was over, she was free to do as she pleased and he would support her decisions. Tressa wanted to thank him, but she still didn't trust herself to speak. Instead she only nodded, her lips pursed.
Despite her less than innocent feelings toward Jarrett, she managed to put aside her shame. She walked to the garden with her shoulders back, baring everything to the people of the Sands with her sheer gown. To her surprise, there were no leers, no lecherous comments from the men. She'd grown used to the men of the Black Guard who bragged about their sexual escapades and spoke of women as if they were objects for lust. The people here treated her as if she were a gloriously dressed queen, despite being able to see every private part of her body through her gown.
Jarrett led her into the gentle light of the setting sun, down a path strewn with feathers and flower petals. She couldn't help smiling. She hadn't been outdoors in days, and even though the heat was still intense, a light breeze caressed her face, reminding her how much she'd missed the outside world. The crowd flanking the path stood at least ten deep. They sang a song in a language Tressa didn't understand, but their smiles told her what it meant: they were pleased with the union and wished them a beautiful future. A lump formed in Tressa's throat. It was so different than the marriage fasting in Hutton's Bridge where a man and a woman held hands in front of Udor while he pronounced them husband and wife. The villagers would sigh, knowing another life was soon to grace their trapped town, giving them hope of survival. There was no joy, only relief.
Here, there was celebration in a choice made by two people to join their lives together. Jarrett's hand tightened around Tressa's. She glanced at him. Sadness ringed his lids, while a forced smile covered his face. Tressa's heart ached. He was doing this for her and her people. He would gain nothing from it. He'd already lost Jacinda's favor. Without the queen on his side, it was possible he'd also lose his position in the guard.
All for Tressa.
All for nothing.
She reached out and put her hand on his cheek. He halted and looked at her quizzically. There were murmurs in the crowd, but the song continued. "Thank you," Tressa said. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him.
Stunned, Jarrett stood still for a moment, then he wrapped his arms around Tressa and lifted her off the ground. His lips ground into hers, hungry. As quickly as it had started, he pulled back, setting her on the ground.
Tressa's head swam with confusion. She'd wanted to kiss him. His reaction didn't surprise her. No, what concerned her most was what was happening deep in her heart. Her feelings were rearranging, making room for a man she'd only known a short time. Mere months couldn't compete with the years and the history she had with Bastian. And yet...at that moment Tressa let herself believe the wedding was real.
The song rose louder, floating around them like a cool breeze, caressing her in happiness. She'd always wanted a selfless love. She'd had that with Bastian, at least she'd tried to fool herself into believing it for years.
Hutton's Bridge was a village with no secrets. No matter how people tried to convince themselves they'd gotten away with something, it was rare for a true secret to survive. Tressa knew about Bastian's affairs during his marriage to Vinya. She knew a handful of woman had taken refuge with him in the forge in the dark of the night. One woman had made sure Tressa knew about her nights with Bastian. She hid their affair from everyone else, but bragging to Tressa wasn't beneath her. Whether it was to hurt Tressa or to boost her own self-worth, Tressa never knew the woman's purpose.
In all that time, Tressa remained chaste in the confines of their village. She didn't break the laws, except for one time with Bastian just after their union had been dissolved. She'd tried to justify his escapades to herself. He was a man, after all. He couldn't have her, so he'd have others. She never wanted to admit that perhaps he'd never loved her as deeply as she'd loved him.
Tressa looked at Jarrett again. His muscular arms, his gentle smile, and his well-rounded arse tempted her. It wasn't just the way he looked, though. He was a good man. An honorable man. A man whose intentions she'd never questioned.
A small cramp in her stomach turned her attention away from her bridegroom. Her hand covered her stomach.
"Are you okay?" Jarrett asked, concern flashing in his eyes.
Tressa nodded. "I think so. Nerves, maybe."
Jarrett settled his hand on top of hers. "All will be well. I promise."
"How much farther?" Tressa asked. The crowds were only growing as they walked. She could no longer count the depth of the people who watched their procession.
Jarrett pointed to the right. "Just around this corner and then we'll be there." He smiled. "Be prepared. I don't think you've ever seen anything like it."
Butterflies fluttered in front of them, their wings of blue and yellow and pink coloring the dimming sky. Tressa reached out to touch one, but they scattered. A laugh escaped her lips. "They're beautiful."
"You're beautiful," Jarrett whispered and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.
Tressa blushed, something she'd done far too much of in his presence. He tugged gently on her arm, guiding her around a corner.
Tressa's breath caught in her throat.
Streamers the same colors as the butterflies hung from tall poles and flapped in the breeze. Palm trees dotted the landscape, standing sentry. Plants swayed in the garden, their leaves and flowers lit up in light blues and greens, glowing in the night sky.
At the end was the most beautiful sight Tressa had ever laid eyes on. A shimmering lake stretched on for miles into the sand, giving life to the barren desert. Moonlight reflected off the light waves.
"It's stunning," she said. "I have never seen a body of water so large before!" Her body screamed, begging her to run off and jump in, letting the cool water bathe her from head to toe.
"It is our life here in the desert," Jarrett said. "Without that lake, none of us would be here."
"You seem pleased with my kingdom." Jacinda joined them on their walk. "I am still not happy about this union, but I will not have my people think me a bitter woman. If my lover has chosen another, I will celebrate your love. At least publicly." She touched Jarrett's arm with a fingernail. "Unless you want to change your mind. It is never too late. I can have this eastern trollop disposed of in mere breaths."
Tressa wanted to pull a dagger and slice Jacinda's arm. Not enough to mortally injure her, but enough to tell her to keep her mouth closed. Unfortunately this gown had no pockets. Even if it did, they would all be visible given the sheer fabric.
Jarrett's grip on Tressa's arm tightened. "I have not changed my mind, Jacinda. I am Tressa's now and forever."
A sigh escaped Jacinda's lips. "Then we will have the wedding." She glared at Tressa. "If you hurt him, I will kill you."
"I believe you," Tressa said.
Chapter Thirty
Bastian watched Tressa stroke Jarrett's face. When Jarrett picked her up and twirled her, Bastian's stomach dropped. Then they kissed. He knew Tressa. He knew that enamored look in her eyes. And she was nearly naked! That gown let everyone in attendance see the things Bastian had thought belonged to him alone. Not anymore.
"I've seen enough." He grabbed Elinor's wrist and tugged, but she stood firm.
"No. You haven't talked to her yet. Until then, you only know what you've seen. Often what we see isn't reality." Elinor jerked her arm free from his grasp. "Stay still and observe. Hold your emotions in check."
"No, I don't want to wait." He spun around and stalked through the crowd. He didn't care if Elinor was following him. He ignored the grunts and protests of the people around him. Soon enough he'd be out of their way and every person would be that bit closer to seeing the wedding they were all so happy to celebrate.
He stepped out of the crowd and took a deep breath. The air was
harsh, like little needles piercing his throat. He hated it here, missing the wetter climate of his homeland.
"You're not leaving without me," Elinor said, running up from behind, a little smile on her face. It was the first time he'd seen it since leaving Hutton's Bridge. "If you're really ready to move on from Tressa, then I won't hold you back."
"I am." He held out his hand, and she slipped hers into it. They walked hand in hand back to the gates.
A guard stopped them. "You can't leave yet. Your presence has been requested at the wedding."
Bastian raised an eyebrow and ran a hand through his red hair. "By whom?"
"Our queen, Jacinda. Once she heard of your arrival on the blue dragon, she firmly requested you attend the ceremony. She wishes the bride to have a representative from her homeland."
"And if I say no?" Bastian asked.
The guard readied his sword. "The request will be rescinded, and you will be escorted to our dungeon."
Bastian looked at Elinor. "They're pleasant here."
"Let's do as he asks." A resigned look settled on her face, the smile gone again.
Bastian and Elinor followed the guard back through the crowd. The same people were again jostled. They shot angry looks at the trio. "Is this good enough?" Bastian asked, stopping around the same place they'd stood earlier.
The guard looked confused. "No, you are to be in the front, with Queen Jacinda and the bride and groom." He continued pushing through the crowd, nudging bystanders with the handle of his sword.
"Oh no," Bastian said under his breath.
"We can't stop now," Elinor said. "It's this or the dungeon. I've heard rumors about the torture in the Sands. I know this is hard for you, but we have to keep moving."
Bastian gritted his teeth and followed the guard. He squeezed Elinor's hand. He'd have to rely on this tiny woman to keep him steady and levelheaded.
As they made their way to the front of the crowd, Bastian spied Tressa again. Her arm snaked through Jarrett's, their hands clasped, fingers intertwined. Her back to him, she hadn't seen her newest wedding guest.
