Dragonlands, Books 1 - 3: Hidden, Hunted, and Retribution

by Megg Jensen

  Bastian's chest ached. He'd let them both down. He didn't expect to be forgiven immediately. He sucked in his gut and stood up straighter. "I swear to you, I will not let you down again."

  Elinor's furrowed eyebrows relaxed. Her straight mouth curved into the bow he'd become so familiar with. She ran to Bastian and jumped into his arms, burrowing her head into his chest. "I know you will."

  "I'm so sorry for what they did to you while I was..." He didn't finish. He didn't want to say it, and he was sure she didn't want to hear it. She was smart. He was sure she knew exactly what he'd been doing.

  Elinor's hand rested on his forearm. She looked up at him. "I am a healer. I knew I wouldn't die at the hands of the men under my father’s control."

  "Then how did they find the eggs?" Bastian asked. "If you didn't tell them, who did?"

  Elinor's face fell. "It was Fotia. She'd come up from the dungeon looking for Connor. When they saw her, you should have seen their faces. They'd come looking for the cobalt dragon, for Connor, and they found a juvenile dragon. They quickly forgot me and followed her back underground, dragging Connor with them." Elinor shook her head. "I don't know how they found the eggs. I passed out not long after they left me. The pain was too much to bear. It wasn't until you and those other men came back that I realized I wasn't dead."

  Bastian's chest rose with a deep breath. "All of this chaos. For what? For a throne?" He wanted to ask her if there was any truth to Maester Malachi being her father. Maybe later.

  "No. There is more. There must be more we don't know," Elinor said.

  "There is," Malin said from his chair.

  Bastian looked at the man, forgetting he was there. When Elinor talked to him, it was easy to ignore everyone else.

  "Do you know something?" Bastian approached the old man slowly.

  Malin slumped over in his chair. His hands shook. "I gave her my moon. Likely my last. I may not make it through another." His phlegmy cough echoed in the small chamber. "There are secrets that healers take to the grave. I do not know if Maester Malachi told his acolytes the secret."

  "What secret?" Elinor sank to the man's feet. She took his liver -spotted hands in her lily-white palms. "I am just an initiate, but I promise to hold true to my vows."

  Malin looked up at Bastian. "I can only tell her. I cannot tell you. Nor will she be allowed to tell you. If she chooses to break her vows, she will lose much."

  Bastian glanced at Elinor and she nodded in response. "I'll meet you in the throne room soon?"

  "Yes." It was a simple answer, but it held great promise.

  They were a team again. He and Elinor. And Connor. They were all too vulnerable alone, but together they could achieve anything. Before he could even close the doors behind him, the whispers began. Malin’s voice cracked. Elinor gasped.

  Bastian fought the urge to run back in and demand to hear the secret himself. His hands curled into fists. He had to trust Elinor. If the secret made a different to their quest, she would do her best to help them. He had to believe in her.

  He had to start to trust again.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Steady rocking woke Tressa. She rubbed her eyes, confused. Her mind felt mushy. Blurry. Unfocused. A strange smell of salt and rot assaulted her nose. Her eyes watered.

  Tressa reached out with an unsteady arm, her fingertips drifting across rough wood.

  "Where am I?"

  She sat up. Her stomach lurched as the surface under her rocked back and forth. She grabbed onto ledges on either side of her, her eyes growing wide with horror as she realized where she was.

  Adrift in a small boat, just big enough to hold her prone body. Tressa swallowed the bile rising in her throat. Water lapped against the side of the boat, licking her fingertips with salty tongues.

  The sea stretched out in every direction, an unending flow of crests and wakes. Land was nowhere to be seen in the darkness.

  Tressa sat frozen in fear. She'd never been around more than a harmless bucket of water or small stream. She didn't know how to swim.

  Water was death for her.

  She silently cursed Jacinda. She’d known the woman couldn't wait to be rid of her, but sticking her in a boat and pushing her into the sea while she was recovering from a miscarriage was beyond cruel. Jarrett claimed the dragon within Jacinda was strong. Where did her human will end and the dragon's wrath take over?

  Tressa searched the tiny vessel for an oar. She came up empty. There was nothing in the wooden boat except herself.

  Adara's leather clothes hugged Tressa's body, covering it as if it were a second skin. A few areas over her chest and legs were hugged even tighter by embedded armor. Tressa smiled. Those were the only clothes she had. The ones she’d worn to the Sands had been disposed of. She slipped a hand down her top, her fingertips touching steel. The small weapons were still there. When they'd dressed her, they must not have noticed the hidden pockets Tressa had asked Adara for.

  She thanked every god she'd ever heard of. At least she wasn't completely helpless. If she could figure out a way to get to land, she'd have a fighting chance.

  The waves continued to carry her, toward what she didn't know. The stars shone, reminding her of the night she'd spent in the silken tent with Jarrett in the middle of the desert. Before the yellow dragon had abducted her off her camel. Before she chose Jarrett over Bastian. Before she'd lost the child she didn't even know she was carrying.

  She wished on the brightest star. "Take me to land. Please. That is all I ask. Any land."

  Breathing in. Breathing out. There was nothing else she could do. Her eyes closed against the endless expanse of water and sky. She reached inside herself searching for the strength she kept buried there. It had served her in the foggy forest. It had served her when she fought for a place in the Black Guard. It had served her when a dragon clutched her in its talons and carried her across the searing desert. It had served her when she'd wordlessly severed her connection to Bastian after the kilrothgi invasion.

  But her strength had retreated, hiding amongst the white caps of the water. Instead she felt a great absence. It wasn't hard to figure out what was missing.

  Her child. The baby she didn't even know she was pregnant with. Though deep down she thought she had known. Somehow she knew she already loved that baby.

  Her thoughts drifted to her time in Hutton's Bridge and her morning tea with Granna. It was the same tea she'd drunk just before her miscarriage.

  A dull ache spread across her chest. She'd never conceived. All those times with Bastian and the other boys whose ribbons she'd pulled. Not one pregnancy. And not one morning without the tea.

  Anger built until she was on the edge of bursting. She'd confided in her Granna. Cried with her over every monthly blood. She’d thought there was something wrong with her, but now she suspected another explanation.

  Her beloved Granna had kept her from pregnancy and so had someone back at Risos. It wasn't her body that had betrayed her. Others had done this.

  Her limbs shook with fury at everyone who'd manipulated her. At the same time, they quivered in anticipation. She could get pregnant again. She wasn't barren. Hope burned brighter than her bitter anger.

  She would never forgive them for what they'd done to her. Never. There would be no more caring thoughts of Granna. All of her good memories were obliterated with this revelation. As for Jacinda, that horrible queen who'd done nothing but hate Tressa simply because Jarrett loved her, if Tressa ever saw her again, she'd need ten men to hold Tressa back from killing her.

  Her eyes snapped open. Tressa sighed and carefully inched her bottom across the boat's floor until she was lying down. She rested her hands on her lower abdomen.

  "Even though I didn't know about you, I still love you." Her whisper carried in the silent air. "I wanted you for so long. I would have done anything to protect you. If only I would have known, I might have made different choices."

  Tressa's thoughts drifted back to Jarrett. His lips
on her stomach. His hands touching the most intimate parts of her body. Even in the boat, trying not to move, she couldn't tamp down the chills that always accompanied thoughts of him.

  Part of her cursed her choice. She'd been carrying Bastian's child while she made love to Jarrett. If she had known, would she have gone with Bastian?

  She was relieved it was a choice she didn’t have to make. Her feelings for Jarrett were too strong. Yet if she’d gone with Bastian, her baby might still be alive.

  Tressa lay still, her breaths measured and even. She didn't sleep. The moon bathed Tressa in light. She leaned over the edge of the boat, submerging her hand in the freezing water. She grunted, paddling through the waves to no avail. Her leather sleeve soaked, she pulled her arm back in the boat.

  "How do I get to land without an oar?"

  The waves continued to lap against the side of the boat, lifting her up and down, but not moving the boat very far.

  "The waves go toward shore." She sighed. "I think."

  "You could have told me more about the world," she shouted into the sky, angry with herself for not listening better when Granna told her stories. She never thought she'd need them. She never thought she'd survive the fog. "Why didn't you make me pay attention?"

  Again she waited for a response that would never come. Besides, she had no desire to hear from the woman who'd deprived her of pregnancy for so many years.

  "Better that I figure this out myself." She looked at the waves. "They're going somewhere. And I think they generally flow toward land. I remember something about a tide going in and out. So the water is traveling toward land."

  She glanced over the prow of the boat. "Now how do I turn you so you're facing the other direction?" A gargoyle carved into the prow stared at her with dead eyes, its leering smile and sharp teeth mocking her.

  "If I paddle at one end of the boat, maybe it'll turn." Tressa scooted forward, sticking her hands in the water again next to the pointed prow. She paddled hard. The boat tilted quickly to the side. Tressa lost her balance, yanked her arms back into the boat, and grabbed the sides, quickly steadying it.

  Her breath came in rapid spurts, her heart screaming at her to be more careful. "I can do this," she said. "If I don't, I'll sit here for who knows how long waiting for another boat to find me. In the meantime," she continued to mutter under breath, "I'll starve to death. All they'll find is a pile of bones."

  She reached carefully toward the prow, her cheek resting against the gargoyle. Gently she paddled in the water, while carefully balancing her weight in the boat. Slowly the boat started to turn. Tressa held in the whoops of excitement.

  "Not there yet," she said to the gargoyle. "Soon, though. We'll be headed to shore."

  She gritted her teeth as the boat teetered on top of a wave. Muttering a few random prayers under her breath, Tressa wrapped her arms around the body of the gargoyle. The boat righted and settled onto the waves.

  It pulsed toward shore, rising and falling on higher swells. Tressa's stomach protested, gurgling loudly. "No. I'm not going to throw up. I can do this."

  She pursed her lips together, but with the next swell raising her higher, she couldn't keep it in. Closing her eyes, Tressa aimed for the side of the boat, hoping the vomit spewing from her lips didn't land in the boat. She was too afraid to grip the side for fear the boat would tip again.

  Once her stomach emptied itself, Tressa relaxed. She opened her eyes as she rose on the next swell.

  "Yes!" she yelled, pumping her fist in the air. Land appeared in the distance, green and lush with only the smallest bit of sand ringing the edge. The boat dropped and rose, over and over again. Each time land seemed to be coming closer.

  "I'm not going to die out here." Tressa stuck out her tongue between dry lips at the gargoyle. "If Jacinda paid you to keep an eye on me, you can tell her that no matter what she throws at me, I will overcome it."

  The gargoyle's unblinking eyes stayed focused on hers. Tressa gave him a little slap. "If you were real and a spy for Jacinda, I'd run you through as soon as I had a sword in my hand." Months ago, even thinking an inanimate object could hold magical power would have made her laugh and roll her eyes. Now she wasn't so sure. Anything was possible.

  The boat rode the waves as shore came closer. Tressa held on to the sides, determine to stay as dry as she could. She rode the swells until the boat became mired in the sand. Tressa leapt to standing, her boots splashing water all around her legs.

  She stumbled toward shore as the rays of morning washed over the beach. She was out of the boat, safe from the water. But now all she could see was an expanse of high green grasses. She needed food and water.

  Mostly she needed a sword. A very sharp one.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Tressa's boots pulled off with a loud sucking noise. She tipped them upside down, letting the water out. She yanked her stockings off and wrung them. Sighing, she pushed her hair behind her ears.

  She was alive and unharmed, but Tressa had no idea where to head. Inland, obviously. Without any direction she could wander idly for days. Starvation lurked over her shoulder. Dehydration had already taken hold. Her lips were parched, cracking, and drier than the desert she'd left only the day before.

  Looking up at the sky, Tressa wondered if it would be too much for nature to provide her with some fresh rainwater. The seawater was undrinkable, and her throat screamed for even just a drop of water.

  Tressa coughed as she yanked her boots back on her damp feet. She stood and wiped her hands on her leather pants. "Time to get moving."

  "Who's there?"

  Tressa crouched, steadying her breath. So she wasn't alone.

  "I'm armed, and I will kill you if you attack me."

  Tressa's head whipped from side to side. She was completely exposed on the beach. If the approaching person was in the grass, there was nowhere for her to hide. Taking a deep breath, Tressa stood again, her hands in the air. "I'm not here to hurt anyone."

  The grass rustled. A young girl stood up, her head not much higher than the tall green blades. "Oh good. Because I'd hate to kill you."

  Laughing, Tressa walked toward the girl. "Yes, I'm sure you would."

  The little brunette couldn't have been more than ten or eleven. Tressa was relieved. And if the girl was here that meant food and drink couldn't be far away. "Can you help me find the nearest town? I need something to eat. I'm famished."

  The girl glared at Tressa and tapped her foot. She pointed out to the sea. "Your boat is floating away."

  Tressa glanced over her shoulder. The little vessel that had borne her here was drifting back with the tide. "I don't need it anymore."

  "You must be wealthy to let something of value go." The girl smiled. "I will take you to the nearest town if you pay me. How much gold do you have?"

  "Gold? I lost it at sea," Tressa lied, biting her cracked lip, tasting blood. "The boat tipped, and all of my money fell out."

  "Oh." The girl pushed a toe into the ground. "Then I can't help you." She turned on her heel and started back into the grass.

  "Wait!" Tressa reached out for the girl, but before she could grab her shoulder, the girl disappeared into the grass again. In a trot, Tressa followed the moving grass. She grumbled. Why couldn't the girl just take her where she wanted to go? Didn't she realize Tressa would follow her?

  The grass stopped moving. A flash of green light shot into the air. Tressa cursed under her breath. What was the girl doing now? Before she could call out and ask, a small green dragon burst from the grass. It circled over Tressa's head.

  After flying in two loops, a small burst of fire popped from its mouth. A small pouch hung from its ankle.

  "Great. More dragons," Tressa muttered. She marveled at the control the little girl had over her dragon form. Henry had been a few years older but couldn't control his changing well at all. In the end, his inexperience had gotten him killed. She hadn't been afraid of him then, and she wasn't going to let herself fear this child
. "Come down here."

  The dragon's head shook.

  "Please?" Tressa asked.

  The green dragon hovered over her. Then it dove to the ground at a frightening pace. Tressa reached out to catch the dragon before it hit the ground, but it stopped just a breath above her palms, then hovered carefully until its feet were on the ground. In a flash, the dragon was gone, and the girl was in front of her, fully clothed.

  "How?" Tressa asked, stunned. Henry had come out of his dragon form naked. But this girl was wearing the same clothes she'd had on when she met Tressa on the beach.

  The girl stuck her tongue out at Tressa. "You're not afraid of my dragon."

  "I'm not," Tressa admitted. "I've seen bigger, scarier dragons than you."

  "You're not going to stop bothering me, are you?"

  "No, I'm not. I need help, and you're the only person I've seen. Please, just get me to the outskirts of a town. That's all I'm asking. If you're afraid to let others see you as a dragon, I swear I won't tell anyone."

  "You've never been here before, have you?" she asked, her hands on her hips. "Everyone here is a dragon. You're the one who should be afraid, lady."

  Tressa's hand instinctively went to her padded breastplate, making sure the small knife was hidden within it still. "Everyone here is a dragon? How is that possible?"

  The girl rolled her brown eyes. "The other lands take it upon themselves to control the dragon essence. Here we share it with everyone. If a baby is born without the ability to change, we give it to them. We're all equals."

  Tressa's eyes widened. A land full of possibly psychotic dragons? She wanted out, fast. "What's your name?" she asked the girl.

  "Margret." The girl twirled in the grass, her fingertips skimming the tops of the blades.

  "Margret, can you get me some food and water? Please? I cannot pay you in gold now, but I can have it sent to you later." Once she found Jarrett she'd ask him to pay the debt. He would in a heartbeat.