Descendant (Secrets of the Makai) (36 page)

"I TRIED TO WARN you."

Tristan sprang back, startled by the sight of Dorian dropping to the ground in front him. She took off her black cloak and swung it around his hunched shoulders.

"Keep yourself covered. Your skin is a sure giveaway in the lightning."

Tristan lifted his chin, letting her fasten the clasp at his neck and pull the hood over his head. Long black sleeves covered her arms, leaving only her hands and face exposed. And a plunging neckline, still adorned with diamonds. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and kiss her soft lips, but she grabbed his hand and led him over a log, where they huddled together next to a boulder.

"What now?" he asked. The forest was definitely her domain.

"I guess we should just keep moving. Are you okay?"

Thunderous hooves vibrated the ground. Shouts carried on the wind, muffled by rain. The engines of four-wheelers hummed in the distance. They peered over the log. "The horses probably dumped us on purpose."

"Probably." Dorian laughed. "But maybe no one will suspect we're on foot?"

"Yeah, until they find our horses," Tristan said, sitting heavily against the rock. He could move both shoulders, a good sign. "They'll probably circle back when they do. I heard them say we had nowhere to go."

Dorian let out a shriek and threw both hands over her head as the falcon landed on the log beside her.

"Thank God!" Tristan got to his knees with an instant idea. "Can you find Oliver?"

The falcon seemed to bow in response, without breaking eye contact. Tristan took the leather pouch from around his neck and looped it several times around the falcon's.

"He's yours?" Dorian asked, staring at the bird with wide eyes.

"I guess so. He's my best friend and he's saved my life more than once."

"He doesn't mind being strangled like that?"

"It's Cyanea coral. Gram knows it's mine. Not only that, but they'll have proof that I'm alive and well. Hopefully you too." Tristan made sure the strap wasn't too tight. "Can you fly like this?"

The bird spread its giant wings and sprang from the log.

"How did you manage to get Cyanea coral? It's extremely rare, you know."

"Long story." He grabbed her hand and followed the log. "If we get separated, we should meet somewhere at dawn. Do you know what part of Ireland we're in?"

"We shouldn't get separated."

"Dublin. It's the only place I can think of."

"That's crazy."

"Listen." Tristan held her hand with both of his, waiting to make sure she understood the importance of what he had to say. "Your grandmother isn't doing well. There was an explosion in the village when you were taken, and I think it was your shop."

"But you said you talked to her."

"I did. I don't think she was seriously injured, but she didn't sound right. I couldn't see her while I was here with you." Tristan wiped at a tear trickling down her cheek, making a muddy smudge on her perfect skin. "What I'm trying to say is, you need to get home. I'm sure she's worried sick, and just having you back.... I'm sure you could help."

Dorian nodded and sniffed, pulling her hand away from his.

"If you had to, could you find the island by yourself?"

"It's off the Alaskan coast somewhere, but I'm not sure I could find it. I've never been off the island before."

"Never?" Tristan gathered a handful of mud and smeared it on his face, then gently across her forehead, nose, and each of her flushed cheeks. "My falcon will find Oliver and he'll come for you. If not, find a town or a road. Head for Dublin. Maybe you could find someone who knows about the Makai? They must be looking if they're involved."

She nodded again, gathering a handful of mud to fill in the places Tristan missed on himself. "What makes you think Oliver will come because of the falcon?"

"I don't know if the falcon can lead them here or not." They walked hand in hand, following the log as it tapered to a point. "I saw the falcon within an hour of being here, so it might be possible for them to come right away. Distance is irrelevant, right?"

"You think Oliver could be here any second?"

"Why not? But if they couldn't follow me, I'm not sure having the falcon will make any difference. It's not like it speaks. Can you actually follow something while disappearing and reappearing somewhere else?"

"I really don't know."

"Look." Tristan faced her again. "We'll be found eventually, by either good guys or bad guys. Get in the trees, stay close if you don't want to get separated, and I'll stay on foot. In Dublin, we'll meet…uh, in the center. There's bound to be something—a park, a courthouse. Leave messages for me in every place you can find, or on telephone poles if you have to." Tristan scratched his head. "Maybe an American Embassy? If we still can't find each other, go to the police and tell them truth. About being kidnapped."

"We're not getting separated and the trees are…dead."

"You're being stubborn."

"They aren't flexible, they'll snap."

"Come on, Dorian. If they can take this kind of wind, they can certainly take you." Tristan stared in wonder, surprised to see her eyes brimming with tears. He took hold of her shoulders, not just to shake some sense into her, but to touch her again. "Gram needs you and I can buy time for Oliver if I'm the one they catch. You know I'm right."

He loosened his grip on her arms, distracted by her deep brown eyes, glistening with tears. Even with her face caked in mud and her tangled mess of hair soaked with rain, he couldn't peel his eyes away. "I want you safe." He leaned closer, until her breath feathered warmth on his skin. He shut his eyes and breathed in more of her, finally pressing his lips to hers.

Her fingers slid through his hair and pulled him closer. His arms wrapped around her waist and back, pressing her body into his.

She froze and pulled back.

Tristan opened his eyes and let go of her, taking a few steps back as well. "I-I'm sorry."

When she didn't respond, he swallowed his dejected pride and searched for more mud to put on his face.

"I want you to do something for me," she finally said, biting her lip and turning away. "I know you won't believe me, and I'm sure you'll think I'm strange, but...would you...bless this forest?"

Blessing the forest was not what he thought she was going to say, though he wasn't sure what she was going to say. Kissing her probably ruined everything.

"You know," she continued, "encourage the trees to survive. Like I do for the plants at home."

"Why me? Can't you do it?"

"I don't have a relationship with these plants. You do."

"Maybe we should get going while we still can."

"Just do it!" Dorian took his hand and half-dragged him to the nearest little tree sapling.

"You said they were dead, they look fine—"

"The adults are dead, these are just babies!"

Tristan scratched his head. "You want me to...bless them. Like a priest?"

"Forget it."

"No!" Tristan looked back to the little tree. "I can do it if it makes you happy."

"Do it because you mean it." She took his hand and forced him to touch a limb. "It doesn't have any hope, can't you feel it? You can save it by willing it to live. Tell everyone they need to survive this weather, the ground conditions, the wind! Give them a reason to live."

"Out loud?"

Dorian's face tightened. "It doesn't matter how. Never mind."

Tristan turned back to the tree, replaying her request in his head. "Okay, done. We need to get out of here."

"Fine," she said. "Thanks. Here's how it goes. I'll follow you and we're
not
getting separated." She pulled off her boots and attempted tying the bulk of the dress into a knot at her side, while Tristan tried to remember what they'd been talking about. "I can't go very fast in this big thing anyway, and the largest branches should be strong enough."

Tristan looked away to keep from noticing her exposed legs—long and sleek. "You'll need more mud if you're going to do that to your dress."

"It's not
my
dress. I should have grabbed a table knife," she continued, yanking at the hem until it finally ripped apart. "If it wasn't black and if it weren't so cold, I'd take it off."

Tristan smeared a handful of mud on the back of his neck. He heard a series of long tears in the fabric and kept himself from looking. "Can you hurry it up a little?"

"Oh, forget it. Where's the mud?"

He glanced in time to see her scoop her own mud from the ground, then smear it up her legs. "So much for being in a hurry," she mumbled, then stood tall for his inspection. "Am I covered enough?"

He nodded, then pointed to her chest before averting his eyes. "The silver stuff."

She scooped another handful to rub over the embroidery design, then hiked her dress up even higher to climb the nearest tree. He put the hood of the cloak over his head and risked a glance to the trees, unable to guess where she might be.

Tristan released his breath and took off at a run through the torrential downpour, glad to be on the move. He stumbled over limbs and mossy rocks, needing to yank on the cloak whenever it snagged on things in the forest. The storm blew in full force, thunder and lightning every few seconds.

"Over there!" a voice shouted.

Tristan ran harder, twisting down a muddy embankment. There were no more trees for Dorian and time seemed to freeze as he soared over a ditch.

He never made it to the other side, nor did he fall to the bottom. He couldn't move a single muscle, or blink—stuck in something that kept him hovering above ground. Two people slid into the ditch below, approaching with broad smiles until they saw his face. "What the bloody hell?"

Tristan fought the strange confinement and struggled to breathe, suffocated by a semi-clear substance. The strangers were blurred by the distortion of the barrier.

"Who do you think this is?" one of them asked. "Not like there's a bunch of people out here…and he
was
running."

The other man shrugged. "He could have been a decoy…."

"Take him to the dungeon, I'll keep looking for the girl."

41

-
E
MERALD
S
KY -

TRISTAN LISTENED TO THE GUARD'S squashy footsteps keeping a rhythm with the rain. They moved along the cliff, back to the castle. No wind, no temperature. Just a heavy constriction that made him think of the statues. They were still alive. Waiting for something.

His mind fogged as they descended the spiraled steps to the cell they'd used for Dorian. The dungeon door slammed shut and a burst of air pierced his lungs. Tristan dropped to his knees.

"Try transporting yourself out of that!" The guard laughed, peering through a barred viewing window in the door. "Master will deal with you personally and I doubt you'll live long enough to see what happens to your pretty girlfriend."

Footsteps echoed up the stairs and Tristan rolled his eyes. He'd be long gone before Sabbatini got to him and transporting himself had not been an issue yet. The door at the top of the stairs clanged shut and Tristan simply willed himself out of the cell.

He had his foot on the first step when he heard a faint noise behind him. He waited to hear it again, eyeing the darkest shadows. Water trickled in a little faster than it had when Dorian was here, but other than that…. He took another step and heard it again, then spotted a stream of mud pouring from a crack in the mortar. A few more pebble-sized rocks crumbled from the wall and the sharp beak of the falcon broke through.

"You're back!" Tristan kept his excitement to a whisper and ran to the spot, prying at the larger rocks with his fingers. "Did you bring anyone to help us?" The mortar fell apart and a larger river of mud splashed at his ankles. "You're the coolest friend ever. Why haven't I given you a name? How did you get behind this wall?"

Tristan pulled more rocks away, curious that the falcon seemed to be retreating.

"You can come out now." Tristan waited. "Don't tell me." He glanced up at the door at the top of the stairs. "Why do I have to go this way?" He hopped up on the ledge, scraping his belly to squeeze into the pitch-black hole, feeling through the sludge for rocks to pull himself in with.

The tunnel angled upward to dryer ground and cobwebs clung to his skin. He wiped them away from his face and arms every few seconds. Hairy roots hung in several places, threatening to block the entire path. The clicking of the falcon's claws and a damp breeze kept him moving forward.

"Why can't I just go the other way? It'd be a lot quicker. And easier. I barely fit!" The path gradually curved and descended. The breeze became a howling wind, sending shivers through his body. The end had to be near.

"No, no, no." Tristan froze, listening to the waves crashing against rocks. Lightning flickered along the walls with a deafening crack of thunder. He quickly calculated where he was and parted the curtain of roots.