by Megg Jensen
"Tressa—”
"Don't." Tressa leapt to her feet, only to be overtaken by dizziness again. "Damn it! I just want to feel better!" She struggled, swaying, trying remain standing. Fi took her arm and steadied her.
"If no one else is going to tell her, I will," Fi said. "There's blood in that cup. Blood from our king. It will fortify you and protect you. It will also kill the diseased dragon blood in your system. Your father's blood was tainted. The king's blood will heal you."
Tressa's nose wrinkled. She'd been willing to drink her father's blood with hopes it would save the children of Hutton's Bridge. Yet she balked at drinking this blood. "What will happen if I don't drink it?"
Granna placed a hand on Tressa's shoulder. "If you do not, your father's dragon blood will continue to mingle with yours until it takes over. The blood of the Black is stronger than the Red. Drink. Red will yield to Black.”
"Stop it!" Tressa clapped her hands over her ears. Her heart thudded, threatening to break through her ribs.
"I wouldn't lie to you," Granna said, her voice raised. "Tressa. Listen to me, please. Just drink the blood and all will be right again. I promise you."
Fi held out the cup to Tressa, who lowered her shaking hands. "Trust her," Fi said. "Trust us. I saved you in Malum. I helped to bring the children of Hutton’s Bridge back to safety. I brought you here for healing. Please, Tressa, before you get sicker, please drink."
Tressa looked at her great-grandmother, now restored to a younger version of herself, at Fi, her new friend, and at Leisa, the loyal attendant. No one here had tried to hurt her.
She reached out, taking the cup from Fi's hands. "Okay. I will drink it. But, I swear, if I turn into some sort of evil dragon, I will kill all of you."
Granna smiled. "Now there's my Tressa."
Tressa lifted the cup to her lips and took a long drink of the blood. Unlike her father's blood, which brought up a host of destructive feelings, this blood was sweet and calming. She closed her eyes and drank the cup dry.
Chapter Eight
After two long days of flying on Connor's back, Jarrett, Bastian, and Elinor landed in the tall, reedy grass of the Meadowlands next to the sea separating it from the Isle of Repose.
"Why don't we just fly there?" Bastian asked for what seemed like the thirtieth time.
Jarrett wanted Bastian to stop questioning his judgment. He knew the Dragonlands far better than Bastian could ever claim to. Bastian had grown up in an isolated town. Jarrett had traveled enough to know better. He also knew the Isle of Repose was a land of death. One did not venture into the Isle of Repose without a plan.
"The island has protections set up against dragons. It's likely if Connor flies us in, we'll all perish before we can even set foot on the ground." Jarrett squatted a few times, stretching his legs. Sitting on a dragon's back for days, with only short rest periods, was far more painful than enduring the awkward gait of a camel.
"What sorts of protections?" Elinor took off her cloak and shook it out. Bugs and feathers flew from its folds. "Maybe we can find a way around them. Obviously if my father got through, then there is a way for us to do the same."
Jarrett ran his fingers through his hair. He looked over at Connor, who had changed back into a human and was slowly pulling on a pair of pants. The sandy-haired man looked exhausted. Jarrett knew the toll the dragon form was taking on him. If Connor remained a dragon too long, he would lose more of his human side. He hadn't had a chance to pull him aside and discuss his knowledge yet. Even though it wasn't first-hand experience, Jarrett had witnessed Jacinda's struggle. The cruel, unforgiving dragon side was more and more difficult to temper with each passing year. He'd felt some responsibility to help her, but everything had changed.
And now there was Tressa to worry about—another in the long list of reasons he would do anything to end the discord in the Dragonlands.
"Jarrett?" Bastian snapped his fingers, annoyed. "How exactly are we going to reach this island with our lives intact?"
"Sorry," Jarrett said, putting all thoughts of Tressa away. She was in good hands with Fi. "First, we’ll need a boat to sail over to the island. Then we’ll attempt to fight our way past any barriers the Keepers might have erected."
"Keepers?" Elinor asked, surprised. "I've heard of them, but never in conjunction with the Isle of Repose. Legend says they are the most powerful of sorcerers. When the dragons grew weary of the Keepers and their mischief, the dragons banished them from the Dragonlands."
"All true," Jarrett said. He sat down on a large rock. "The Keepers were banished to the Isle of Repose. To protect themselves, they made it impossible for a dragon to ever set foot on its shores. How, we do not know. We only know that others have tried, and failed, in the past. No dragon in its right mind would attempt it now."
"Good thing I'm not in my right mind," Connor said with a grimace. He pulled a tunic over his head and straightened it at his waist. "Your father," he looked pointedly at Elinor, "stole my eggs. I want them back. Whatever Jarrett says we must do is what we will do." Connor turned back to Jarrett. "Now, you said a dragon cannot set foot on the island. Can I do so in human form?"
"I wish I knew the answer to that," Jarrett said. "Are you willing to take the risk?"
Connor nodded. "Of course. Anything to save the eggs."
"Good." Jarrett tore a strip of fabric from his cloak. "We need a boat. We should be able to purchase one at the town nearby. But I need you to wear this around your eyes, Connor."
"Why?" Bastian asked.
"The people in the Meadowlands are all capable of turning into dragons. Their young ones have developed a strange gift, unique to them. They can look into a person's eyes and tell if a dragon hides within. If they see Connor is a dragon, they will take him prisoner."
"Wait." Elinor held a hand up. "What do you mean, they're all dragons here?"
"Exactly as I said." Jarrett tossed the strip to Connor, who caught it deftly in one hand. "Someone here discovered the secret of transformation and thought it would be a good idea to turn the entire Meadowlands population into dragons."
"For war?" Bastian asked. He pumped his fists.
Jarrett held back a sigh. Was there more to the man than just his brawn? Some moments Jarrett was baffled that Tressa was ever attracted to Bastian. Then again, his past included Jacinda, so he had no right to question Tressa’s interest in the redheaded oaf.
"The Meadowlands is comprised of peaceful people. None here would want to wage war on the other dragonlords. Instead, they thrive on equality. It was simply a matter of everyone having the same ability," Jarrett explained. "Unfortunately the dragonlords of the Red and Yellow did not agree. Together they erected a border to keep the Green dragons inside the Meadowlands—and away from the other lands."
"They wanted to keep the secret?" Elinor asked.
"Yes," Jarrett said.
"So why does it matter if they know I'm a dragon?" Connor asked.
"Only a dragon can lead them out. If they realize what you are, they will surely take you prisoner until you take down the barrier," Jarrett answered.
“But I don’t know how,” Connor countered.
"They won’t believe you,” Jarrett said. “Do you want me to help you with that?"
Connor held the strip up to his eyes. Jarrett tied the ends at the back of Connor's head.
"I'll tie a rope around his wrist and lead him," Elinor said. She twirled her cape onto her shoulders and produced a rope from one of the interior pockets. "Connor, assuming they still have a Healer's Guild here, they will recognize you as my patient. We won't be questioned."
"They do have one," Jarrett said to Elinor. "I was hoping all of you would agree to the ruse."
Elinor tied the rope around Connor's waist. "I'll give small tugs so you know which way to go," she told him.
"Okay, are we ready?" Bastian asked. He shifted from one foot to the other.
"Yes," Jarrett said, hefting his pack onto his shoulder. He reached
down for Elinor's, but was bumped aside by Bastian.
"I'll take it," Bastian said, snatching up her pack. He glared at Jarrett.
Jarrett shrugged, refusing to play this pissing match. "Let's go. The town isn't far. Around those trees and to the right." He set off at a quick clip, eager to keep moving. The sooner they secured a boat, the sooner they could get to the Isle of Repose. Every step took him closer to reuniting with Tressa.
Chapter Nine
"This boat will get you back to the Sands," the merchant said.
Jarrett knew the man would be pleased with their business. Since the barrier had been erected along the Meadowlands border, the sea merchants had lost a lot of revenue. The people of the Meadowlands needed to eat, so the Red and Yellow had extended the barrier a bit into the sea, but not far enough for them to escape their homeland. Visitors were rare, a boat sale even more rare. Jarrett knew it wouldn't take much negotiation to secure the deal.
"She looks good." Jarrett meandered around the deck. He tugged on ropes and rapped on the side. It felt and sounded solid.
"I'd offer you a crew..." the man trailed off.
Jarrett clapped him on the shoulder. "I don't claim to understand what my people did to you. I wish I knew why they trapped your people here."
"It is of no concern," the merchant said with a wave of his hand. "All will change soon enough."
Jarrett raised an eyebrow, but did not question the man. Surely the people here were always trying to come up with ideas to escape or to change their circumstances. But as far as Jarrett knew, turning someone into a dragon was irreversible. Unless the Green could find a way to turn back time, there was no hope of them ever leaving their homeland.
"I would like to rent her, then," Jarrett said.
"Rent?" The merchant sputtered, his face turning red. "It is for sale. I have no use for it now. Your people put me in this predicament. The least you can do is buy the vessel instead of bringing it back to me. It is only another reminder of our captivity." The merchant crossed his arms over his chest. He stared Jarrett down with angry eyes.
Jarrett waited only a moment, then held out a hand. "Deal."
The two men shook on it. Jarrett swung his pack off his shoulder, and counted gold coins for the merchant who took them with wide eyes and shaking hands. Jarrett felt bad. He knew it was rare for anyone in the Meadowlands to make this kind of money anymore. All of their trade was done near the border and they had to take what the traders would give them. While they weren't as isolated as Hutton's Bridge had once been, they felt the sting of captivity nonetheless.
"She's all yours," the merchant said. "Take good care of her. She was once my finest crabbing ship. I cannot get out to those waters anymore. Maybe someday..." He walked away, the coins jingling in his hands.
"I didn’t realize you were drowning in riches," Bastian said as they boarded the ship.
"No, but I was given enough by the queen of Risos to fund my journey to the Drowned Country. She is generous." The boat lurched away from the dock. Jarrett couldn't help notice Bastian grab the side of the boat, his face screwed up. "Are you okay?"
"Fine," Bastian said, his voice garbled.
Elinor placed a hand on Bastian's arm. She offered him something from her palm and whispered. He popped it in his mouth and chewed on it, then thanked her. The interplay between the two was genuine. Sweet. Jarrett hoped they'd find happiness with each other so Bastian would stop mooning over Tressa.
Connor took off the blindfold. He stood at the prow, taking in a deep breath. The sandy-haired man walked over to Jarrett, who stood at the wheel.
"How are you feeling?" Jarrett asked Connor.
"Good," Connor said. He tossed the blindfold overboard. It skimmed along the water, finally settling into a wave's wet embrace. "I’m angry and anxious over the eggs, but physically I feel strong. Ready to fight."
Jarrett hesitated. He wanted to ask Connor about his temper, whether he was able to control it. But Jarrett wasn't sure he knew the man well enough to ask such a personal question.
"I cannot turn like you," Jarrett said, "but I have spent many years around dragons. If you have any questions, I might be able to answer them for you."
"I do have one." Connor took a deep breath. "Will I ever remember my past?"
Jarrett's shoulders fell. He looked at Connor's curious eyes, wanting so badly to give him good news. "You may not. Sometimes the transformation is too traumatic. If it's done properly and with care, the mind does not suffer. But when someone is brought to the dragon through torture, the mind may choose to block the memories." He shuffled his feet. "Tressa told me what happened to you. How Stacia flayed your skin to pieces with her braid studded with metal. Tressa swore you had died, or she and Bastian never would have left you. It would be very difficult for you to remember your past after an experience like that. That likely was Stacia's intent."
Connor's eyes clouded over. "I'm sure it was. I was not the only man she kept chained in the dungeon under the castle at Ashoom."
"If you couldn't remember your ties to the past, then you'd be less likely to fight for freedom," Jarrett said. He shook his head. He'd heard stories about Stacia's cruelty, even seen some of it up close, but hearing from a man who who’d experienced it firsthand made it all the more real. "The other men, what happened to them?"
"Dead. All of them." Connor leaned on the rail. "They were all dead before I turned into a dragon. Each dead man's body wrapped around an egg. Stacia's offspring with them. I can only assume she was breeding her own army. I'm glad I could help Tressa kill Stacia. I'm just sorry your friend Henry lost his life too."
"Henry was no friend of mine," Jarrett said. He recalled the arrogant boy who'd walked into his own death. "I was there to help him if he attempted to wrest the Blue throne from Stacia. The one person I couldn't protect him against was himself."
Silence fell over them as the waves lapped against the wooden side. Salty sprays danced in the air. Jarrett looked back at Bastian and Elinor. She sat on a bench with Bastian's head in her lap. The redhead looked unwell. Perhaps her herbs hadn't helped him as much as they'd hoped.
"I still don't remember my wife,” Connor said. “Even seeing my boys back at the Blue castle didn't jog my memory. It doesn't mean I don't care for them, though. Deep down, I think part of me remembers."
"That's good," Jarrett said. He wasn't sure if it meant Connor's memories were still intact or if he was simply a man with a big heart. Regardless, hope often brought about miracles. Jarrett prayed Connor would experience such a miracle.
"How much farther is it?" Connor asked. He rested a hand above his brow and squinted toward the north. "I don't see land yet."
Jarrett pointed to a gull circling above the sails. “Those birds don’t fly far from land. I wager we'll be seeing land very, very soon. And then begins the challenge of surviving whatever traps the Keepers have laid."
"And finding my eggs. Only one is mine, but I am responsible for the other ten too. They have no one but me to care for them."
"They are lucky dragons," Jarrett said with a smile.
He glanced into the sky again. A dark cloud drifted above the island. Clouds always moved from the west to the east, but this stationary cloud hung over the top of a mountain as it was anchored there by some evil force. Jarrett took a deep breath, hoping the stories of the Keepers were nothing more than legend.
Chapter Ten
Tressa woke from a long sleep. She blinked a few times, wondering why there was no sunlight. Then she remembered where she was, deep under the Charred Barrens, in a place daylight could not touch.
"You're awake. How do you feel?" Fi's soft voice echoed in the dark room. Tressa couldn't see her, except for her glowing blue eyes.
Tressa stretched her arms above her head, letting her legs splay out to the side, every muscle in her body awakening. "Surprisingly good. Better than good." She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed.
Her head didn't swim. The world
didn't spin. Everything remained still, as it should.
"Is there a light in here?" Tressa asked.
Fi snapped and a brazier burst to life. "I'm glad you finally drank the blood. If we would have known the situation was so dire when we first went to rescue you in Malum, I would have brought some with me. Sophia is a true seer, but she does not see all."
"I don't want to talk about her," Tressa said.
Fi sat on the bed next to her. "We have to. There's so much you don't understand. Once you are told why she made certain choices, you will see why she had to do it."
"No one has to do anything," Tressa said. She'd made hard decisions since leaving Hutton's Bridge. There were times she could have taken the easy way out. She could have stayed with Bastian in the forest, not seeking her own chance at revenge for what she believed was Connor's brutal death at Stacia’s hands. She could have left Malum without facing Fenn, leaving the children of Hutton's Bridge behind. Yet she had not. "She didn't have to poison me for years, leaving me barren."
"What if there was a good reason?" Fi pressed, not giving up. "If you'd just hear her out, maybe you'd change your mind."
Tressa stood and paced the room. Her feet felt light as she walked in a straight line. Her arms swung carelessly at her sides. Her heart beat out a familiar, steady beat. Knowing the dragon's blood worked calmed her anxiety. So they'd been telling the truth. She was healed.
"Okay." Tressa turned to face Fi. "I'll do it. I'll talk to her."
"You won't regret it, I promise." Fi jumped off the bed. "I'll tell her you're ready to talk. While I'm gone, there's food on the table. That will help you regain even more strength. In fact, I have a feeling that soon you'll be feeling better than you've ever felt in your whole life." Fi winked, then left the room.
Tressa smiled. Fi's attitude was contagious. Tressa sat at the table, digging into the food. A bowl of butter and garlic soaked mushrooms tempted her first. She stabbed the brown cap with her dagger and popped it in her mouth. The rich juices flowed down her throat. She hadn't had sautéed mushrooms since leaving Hutton's Bridge. No one knew how to make them like Granna.
