by Megg Jensen
"Yes." Fi’s response was simple, yet the meaning behind it was anything but. She sat on the bed, her hands on her knees. "We can help her in the Ruins of Ebon. With our help, she will know herself better."
"And without it?" Jarrett asked.
"She will continue to deteriorate until she learns how to control what is inside her. Or she will die.”
Jarrett punched the arm of the chair. "She only had one drop of the blood Fenn offered her. I killed him before she could drink much more. It shouldn't have affected her."
"And yet it has," Fi said. "Tressa must have already had dragon blood within her."
"Impossible." Jarrett folded his arms tightly across his chest. If he didn’t, he would destroy the room with his bare hands. Not Tressa. Not this. She'd had enough to deal with since she left Hutton’s Bridge.
Fi straightened her dress. "We will know more when we arrive at my home. Let's not waste any more time."
Jarrett nodded. "Come with me to my chambers. I'll pack, and you can keep Tressa company if she wakes."
Fi hefted her bag over a shoulder and followed Jarrett out of her chambers.
He stopped abruptly and turned around. "But please..."
Fi crossed her finger over her heart. "I will say nothing. We will let the healers examine her and then they can tell her what they find."
They walked in silence. Jarrett unlocked the door, letting Fi in first. She gasped. Jarrett pushed past her into the room, barely registered the sound of the door slamming behind him.
Tressa sat up in bed, tears of blood streaming down her cheeks. A set of black, leathery wings protruded from her back, her shirt torn and hanging in shreds. "What's happening to me?" she asked in a cracked voice.
Jarrett rushed to her side, but she pushed him away. He flew backward, hitting the wall. Jarrett slid to the floor, dazed, the breath knocked from his chest.
"I didn't mean to do that." Tressa’s whisper tiptoed around his ears.
"I know you didn't," he said. He stood, woozy, but he didn’t want Tressa to know she'd come very close to seriously injuring him.
Fi jumped on the bed and wrapped her arms around Tressa, carefully folding the wings onto themselves. "Just breathe. In and out. Keep it even."
The wings slowly began to meld into Tressa’s back. It wasn't long before Jarrett didn't see them at all.
"Good. Good girl," Fi said, stroking Tressa's hair.
"Don't talk to me like I'm a puppy," Tressa said. But she didn't push Fi away. Tressa looked up at them, her eyes moving back and forth between the two of them. "You knew this was coming?"
Jarrett shook his head. Fi nodded.
"Which is it?" Tressa asked.
"We suspected it," Fi said.
"But we knew nothing for sure," Jarrett said. "It's why I think we should leave for the Charred Barrens right away. Fi believes they can help you there."
Tressa took another shuddering breath. "I don't want to be like this. If there's any chance they can help me..."
"I think we can," Fi said. She grabbed a fresh dress from the wardrobe and pulled it over Tressa's torn shirt.
Jarrett wanted to help, but he didn't know how. Helplessly, he shoved more of Tressa's clothes into a pack.
"Does everyone know?" Tressa asked.
"Just the three of us," Jarrett said. "I thought you'd prefer it this way. But if you want to tell the others before we leave, that is your choice."
"No." Tressa sank into the pillows, her hair cascading over her cheeks. "I don't want them to know. They have enough to worry about." She turned an angry eye to Fi. "But you told them I could be healed, back here, and ready to help them with the search in a few days. Is that a lie? Are we abandoning them for good?"
"It is the truth as far as I know," Fi said. "Hopefully my people can help you within just a couple days."
Tressa looked at Fi, then her gaze settled on Jarrett. "Thank you for protecting me and for offering to come with us."
Jarrett sat on the bed next to her, losing his hand in her dark hair. "There's nowhere else I'd rather be than by your side."
Tressa pulled his hand from her locks. "I don't want you to come with me."
"But—"
Tressa placed a finger on his lips. "No buts. If I find out I can't be fixed and I'm to be this strange thing—this hybrid—then I don't want you there. I want you here where you can be useful. You are of far more use helping them find the eggs than you are to me in the Charred Barrens."
Jarrett grimaced. She spoke the truth. As always. But that didn't mean he agreed. "I would rather be with you. The last time I left you in what I thought were capable hands, Jacinda put you out to sea to die."
"I won't do that," Fi interrupted eagerly.
"Can you leave us alone for a moment?" he asked Fi.
She nodded, contrite, and left the chambers.
"Tressa." Jarrett tried to hold his voice steady. "Don't do this. You don't have to go through this alone."
"I won't. Fi will be with me."
"You barely know her." Jarrett leaned over, kissing Tressa on the cheek. "And I can't bear the thought of being separated from you. Not after everything we've been through."
Tressa returned his kiss, but her stiff back told him no matter what arguments he used, he wouldn't change her mind.
"You don't have to do everything alone," he said, trying one last time. "When you left Bastian..."
"This isn't the same," Tressa said. "Are you afraid I'm running off to find a new lover? This is about my body. My life, Jarrett! I could die if I don't learn to control whatever is going on inside me. You've known dragons. Is it normal to cry blood?"
Jarrett answered quietly. "No. It is not."
"Is it normal for some parts of the body to change while other parts remain the same?”
"No."
"Then please, understand I am the only one who can fight this battle. I have to do this alone. You help the others."
Jarrett nodded, knowing he'd lost before they'd even begun to argue. Tressa’s will was strong. He loved that about her. He’d just never expected to have to go up against it.
He leaned in, kissing Tressa on the lips. At first she responded only with a perfunctory peck, but as Jarrett's lips parted, his tongue drawing across her lips, she lowered her defenses. Tressa kissed him back with a hunger that seemed unusually ferocious.
He broke away. "I’ll miss you."
"What will you tell the others?" she asked.
He thought of the face Bastian would make when he realized Jarrett had been pushed aside too. Still, he resolved to believe it wasn't a pattern. That Tressa really did love him. That she'd be back in his arms soon enough.
"I’ll think of something. But I won't tell them the truth."
"Thank you." Tressa leaned against the headboard. "Can you tell Fi I'm ready to fly?"
Jarrett stuck his head out the door. "Come back in, Fi."
The girl with the black hair, black dress, and black slippers strode into the room. "I'll change on the balcony and meet you just outside the window."
"Thank you," Tressa said, offering a small smile to the girl who'd quickly become a friend.
In only breaths Fi was outside the window, in dragon form, stretching her wings. Jarrett lifted Tressa and carried her to the window.
"I'll be back," she whispered in his ear. "I promise."
"I believe you." Jarrett settled Tressa on Fi's back. He tied the ropes from Fi’s harness around Tressa's waist.
Without a word, the two flew away, south to a land Jarrett had believed, until so recently, was one of death. He could only hope it would bring Tressa new life.
Chapter Four
Jarrett strode back into the throne room, his heart heavy. Tressa was gone. Maybe for good.
"She left?" Bastian asked.
Jarrett simply nodded, not wanting to talk about it. Bastian returned the nod. Elinor tossed him a sympathetic smile and he suddenly wished he’d waited longer before joining them. They w
ere all probably thinking about the way Tressa had left Bastian—multiple times—before leaving him for good. Jarrett guessed they were all wondering if she was doing it to him too.
"How can I help?" Jarrett asked, sitting at the table next to Elinor. He decided to ignore their uncomfortable glances.
Bastian cleared his throat. "As I was saying, Elinor, can you fill us in on some places your father might have taken the eggs?"
"Of course." Elinor unfurled a map made of heavy vellum. She pointed to the Snake River. "It's possible he went to the cave where we originally found Connor."
Jarrett eyed the map. He wasn't overly familiar with the Drowned Country. "How did he steal the eggs?"
Connor sat up straighter in his chair. "That was my fault. I was sleeping. By the time I woke up, he'd taken all but one of the eggs. I fought back and killed all of his helpers—everyone except Malachi."
"But I've seen dragon eggs,” Jarrett said. “They weigh more than any single man can lift."
"I know." Connor ran his hands through his hair, resting them on the back of his neck. "Malachi...he did some kind of magic. Created a wall of light that sucked the last egg out of the cave. I don't really know how to describe it."
"I do," Elinor said. "My father isn't just a healer. He's a mage of the highest order. He’d hoped I would follow in his footsteps, but I chose to solely be a healer. I had seen some of the things he did with his powers and I wasn't comfortable with them. To me, they felt almost evil."
"Almost?" Bastian asked with a snort.
"Okay," Elinor said. "Definitely evil." She shrugged, her blond curls falling over her shoulders. "He was my father. It was hard for me to admit he might be a little less than perfect."
"There aren't many mages in the Drowned Country," Jarrett said. "Where did he learn?"
"From ancient texts, I think,” Elinor said. “He didn't travel anywhere. When I was growing up, he was always around. Too much. He's self-taught."
"Impressive," Jarrett said. He kept his hands clasped together. No one at the table knew he could use magic, even if it was a little. He’d only told Tressa. "In any case, we might as well face the truth. Malachi could have opened a portal to just about anywhere," Jarrett concluded.
"So where do we start?" Bastian asked.
Jarrett tapped his knees with his thumbs. "I might know a way to figure out where he went. Can you take us to the place he opened the portal, Connor?"
Connor nodded and motioned for them to follow. "Fotia, come with me." The little dragon scuttled across the floor, her tongue lolling out the side of her mouth.
"She's so cute," Elinor said, admiring the little dragon.
Fotia hooted in response.
"She said thank you," Jarrett told Elinor.
Elinor's eyelids snapped all the way open. "You can understand her?"
Jarrett nodded. He'd been around Jacinda's boys when they were young. He'd learned to read their emotions. "To a certain extent. It's not a direct translation. She's pleased and she appreciates you noticing her."
Connor patted Fotia on the head. As they walked toward the entrance to the tunnels below the castle, he asked Jarrett, "When will she learn to turn to a human? Assuming she will at all? I don't really know how any of this works."
"Sometime around her twelfth birthday, she will experience her first change. It can be very jarring for some dragons. For others, it comes much easier. You have a few years before you have to worry about it though. Until then, keep her happy and fed."
"Will she remember the things we do and say around her before she turns the first time? Will she have the same memories a human child would have?" Connor asked, as they descended down a long staircase. Bastian walked in front with a torch while Elinor brought up the rear with a second torch.
"Yes, she will. Fotia will know who cared for her." Jarrett appreciated Connor’s interest. Connor was a good father. Jacinda, Queen of the Yellow, had ignored her boys for years. When they first turned, they had little interest in her, preferring the nursemaids who'd tended to them in their early years. Jarrett felt it was a shame and damaged their relationships. While the older son, Destrian, served his mother faithfully, Jarrett knew it was only because he would inherit the throne. Henry had never been interested in pleasing his mother. They had been strangers to one another, which was evident in Jacinda's lack of concern when she learned her youngest son had perished at the hands of Stacia, the Blue dragon ruling the Drowned Country. "She will know if she was loved or if she was ignored. Just like any child, she is very aware of what is going on around her, even if she unable to fully express it until she gets older."
"Interesting," Connor said. He reached down, patting Fotia on the head again. "She's a sweet little thing. I'm lucky to rear her."
"You are a good man, Connor." Jarrett could see why Connor had been Tressa's best friend growing up. He saw the pain in her eyes when she looked at Connor, wishing her friend was back. The man Tressa had known before his transformation was still in there somewhere, even if he didn't possess the same memories. Perhaps once Tressa was well, the two could reconcile and spend more time together. Jarrett felt it would be good for both of them.
When they reached the bottom of the rough-hewn staircase, Connor pushed ahead of Bastian. He jogged down the hall, the rest of them following at a close clip.
Bastian slowed near a doorway, but looked surprised when Connor kept going. "Isn't it over here?" Bastian asked Connor. But Connor ignored him and continued on.
They entered another large cavern, similar to the one at the base of the stairs. Connor ran even faster, coming to the edge of the cavern. He pointed to a solid rock wall. "Here. It was here."
Jarrett strode to the place Connor indicated. He rubbed his hands together and closed his eyes. Reaching deep inside himself, he drew from his well of magic. He took in a deep breath. Letting it out, he felt the magic rise within him. He clapped his hands together once, then slowly drew them apart, letting the magic pulse and grow between his palms.
It was a feeling he both loved and dreaded, one he used only when necessary. This was the third time in as many moons. More than he'd used in the last five years. But it was more and more necessary. And now three more people knew what he could do.
His eyelids snapped open and the magic raced out of his body and into the air. Reds and blues and greens spiraled around the spot Connor had indicated. Yes, Malachi had used magic here. Jarrett closed his eyes again, seeing what no one else could see.
The cavern swirled, jagged edges of memories lodged in the stale air. He could see it all. Feel it. Malachi looking over his shoulder. The screams of the men Connor was devouring nearby. The crunch of bones snapping as the dragon's jaws reduced them to mere scraps.
Malachi had mumbled words under his breath, waving his hands in the air. He was a powerful mage. Jarrett could taste the mage’s power on his tongue. It swept over him like a black shroud over a corpse.
Malachi had used his magic to lift the heavy egg. He stepped into the shimmering, magical opening. Jarrett strained, squinting to see what was on the other side. Anything that marked the place Malachi had chosen to take the eggs.
Jarrett’s stomach dropped to his feet when he saw the statue through the portal. "No," he said, in shock. He lost his concentration and his magic quickly receded into the secret well inside him.
"Jarrett!" Elinor laid a hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay? What did you see?"
Jarrett struggled to remain standing; his legs shook. Malachi had gone to a place none were allowed to venture. All residents of the Dragonlands, even the dragons, steered clear of it. It was an isle of death. An isle of no return.
"He went to the Isle of Repose." Jarrett look at Elinor. The horror in her eyes told him she knew why he was so concerned.
Elinor's hands fluttered to her mouth. "We cannot follow him there."
Bastian stepped up, Connor next to him. "We don't have a choice. It’s just an island. Why would anyone be afraid of it?" Bastia
n asked.
"You don't know, Bastian," Elinor said. "Only death awaits there."
"It doesn't matter. We must go," Connor said. "I will face anything to save my children."
"Will you look death in the eye?" Jarrett asked him, knowing the answer already. They were going whether he liked it or not.
Chapter Five
Tressa didn’t fight the wind blowing through her hair. It caressed her face like Granna did when Tressa was little and sick. A gentle touch on her cheek. A light kiss on her forehead. The winds in the south weren't violent or harsh as they were in the west. They were warm. Inviting.
Despite the changes her body was going through, Tressa felt relaxed for the first time in a long time. Fi had promised help, and Tressa would take the Black dragon at her word. Even though they'd only known each other a short time, Tressa felt like she knew Fi. Maybe it was the openness in her eyes or the unfaltering tenor of her voice. Tressa had been leery of new people since leaving Hutton's Bridge. Fi was nothing like all of the others.
Either she was who she said, or she was the most conniving of all.
After nearly a day of flying, Fi coasted over a dead forest. Tightly gnarled trees were scattered across the parched ground. Unlike the Meadowlands to the north, here there were no animals bounding below. Death reigned supreme. No wonder the other realms believed the Black dragons were all gone. No one could survive in this befouled land.
Dipping down between the trees, Fi landed on the cracked earth. Tressa slid off Fi’s back, her boots hitting the ground. She slumped to her bottom, woozy from the sudden change in altitude. Her ears popped and her eyes watered. She had hoped resting on Fi's back all day might restore some of her strength. Unfortunately she felt as weak as she had when she woke that morning.
In a puff of smoke, Fi stood before Tressa naked, the pack tied to her ankle. "Just give me a few breaths and I'll have my clothes on." Fi tossed Tressa a wink and pulled a black dress out of her bag.
Tressa wanted to see if there was any indication of Fi's wings on her back or if she sweat blood. Anything to make Tressa feel less strange and less alone. Instead, she looked at the ground, not wanting to stare.
