Desolation (Dragonlands Book 4) (6 page)

Donovan collapsed the tent, rolled it up, and shoved it in his pack. Tressa had never seen anything so large get so small so fast. Donovan tried to explain that there were special worms found in Desolation that could produce a silk far finer than anything in the Dragonlands. A little bit of magic added to the threads and Donovan had his tent.

Tressa shouldered her pack and followed Donovan across the barren landscape. Fi stalked behind her, clearly still angry with Donovan. Fi had been a dragon her whole life. Tressa couldn't even imagine how upset she was. For Tressa, it had been only a few moons. It was an acceptable loss, but only because it was temporary.

They walked most of the day, stopping only to eat or fill their water skins at the stagnant river. Beads of sweat rolled down Tressa's face, leaving a salty taste on her cracked lips. She took another swig from her water skin. Her lips curled at the warm, stale water. Still, it felt better on her throat than the dry breaths she took with every step.

"We are almost to our destination, but we will take a breather here, at the bend in the Wardack River," Donovan said, slowing. He pointed in the distance. "Do you see?"

Tressa squinted and held her hand to her brow to block the sun. "I see another pile of rocks." That was all she'd seen the majority of the day. Rocks followed by more rocks. No wonder this place was called Desolation.

"Those are not rocks," Donovan said. "They are the key to saving the Dragonlands. The sooner we reach them, the sooner we can get back to your people."

Tressa felt a rush of hope in her heart. She wanted more than anything to believe it would be that simple, but Donovan still hadn't explained what waited for them ahead. He kept urging Tressa to trust him. So far she had no reason not to.

Fi lagged behind, visibly exhausted. Her arms hung limp at her sides. Her hair was plastered to her forehead in black and pink streaks.

"Are you okay?" Tressa asked Fi as she finally caught up to them. She laid a hand on Fi's shoulder and was surprised how warm her friend was.

"I'm fine," Fi said, shrugging Tressa's hand off. Her blue eyes were heavily lidded and her nose red.

"You're not," Tressa said. She turned to Donovan. "Is this because you took her dragon?"

"Perhaps," Donovan said. "It is different for everyone. It may be harder for Fi because she was born a dragon."

"I'm fine," Fi said again through gritted teeth. "Let's keep going."

Donovan turned and continued his march. Tressa walked next to Fi, holding her friend's hand. Fi wasn't well, and neither of them wanted to admit it aloud. What help was there for her in Desolation? So far they hadn't seen so much as a village—nor a beast like the one that hunted them in the night. It was as if the land were dead and so were all of its inhabitants.

"We will pause one final time," Donovan called from ahead. He pointed to the east.

Tressa's gaze settled on the nearby river. She licked her dry lips and smiled. "See, Fi, water. We'll have a nice rest, drink some water, and then be on our way. It'll help you feel better."

"I hope so," Fi grumbled. "I agreed to come here. I agreed to help you and our people. But, Tressa, I didn’t want to let go of my dragon. It makes me feel helpless. I think my body just doesn’t cope well with being more human than dragon." She attempted a feeble laugh. "Maybe this is what I'd be like as a human. Weak. Pathetic."

"You could never be weak or pathetic, Fi." Tressa looked her friend over again. She thought back to the woman she was before they left Hutton's Bridge and saw some similarities to the slump in Fi's shoulder and the furrow of her brow. Before she learned to fight under Leo's tutelage, Tressa had been soft. Fi was now like a normal person, one who had never had the strength of a dragon, and this trek across the uneven landscape was wearing on her.

Tressa squinted toward the rocks Donovan had pointed out. It wouldn't be long until they reached their destination.

Fi sat on a boulder near the bank, her boots off and her feet soaking in the water.

Tressa laughed. "Good thing I'm upstream from you," she said to Fi. "I wouldn't want your stinky feet in my drinking water."

Fi stuck out her tongue at Tressa and splashed her. "Oh yeah? How's this?"

Tressa screamed and jumped back from the droplets speeding toward her.

"Ladies, please," Donovan said. "This is not a pleasure trip to a beach. This is serious work."

"Donovan," Fi said as she massaged the soles of her feet. "Why are you so boring?"

Donovan huffed and thrust his chest out. "I am not boring. I am trying to save the Dragonlands. Why are you so frivolous?"

"Stop," Tressa said, holding her hands in the air. "Both of you are welcome to your opinions, but I don't see anything wrong with either of your attitudes. Yes, we are on a serious quest. Yes, it is good to take a breath and relax for a few moments. Maybe even have a laugh."

Fi rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to her aching feet. Donovan sat on a rock and pulled a pipe from his vest. He stuffed a wad of herbs in the bowl, and rested the stem between his lips.

"Ha!" Fi said, pointing at him. "If you hadn't taken my dragon, I could light that for you."

Donovan ignored her. He pulled a small tin box from an interior pocket. He flipped the lid open; the items laid neatly inside intriguing Tressa. A flint and steel were to light his pipe, but also a sturdy needle and thick thread. It was a strange combination. In moments, the pipe was lit. A light plume of smoke curled up from the bowl as Donovan puffed away, his lips puckering every few breaths. A sweet smell Tressa didn't recognize lingered in the air. He closed his eyes. "We will leave soon."

Tressa leaned down and grabbed Fi's water skin. "I'm going to fill these up over there." She pointed just past Donovan. "I don't want Fi's foot stink in my water skin for the rest of the day."

Fi waved Tressa away and leaned back, her arms crossed behind her head. She was asleep in mere moments, a gentle snore falling from her lips as a light shadow spread across her body.

Tressa tiptoed upriver, trying not to make any noise while her friend rested. She dipped her water skin into the river. When the skin was full, bubbles popped from the spout. Tressa pulled the skin out and replaced the cork. Then she repeated the process with Fi's skin. Tressa shook the water from the outside of the water skins, then slung both around her neck, letting them rest at her waist. She'd give Fi's back when they were ready to leave. There was no reason to bother her friend while she got some much-needed rest.

Instead of relaxing like the other two, Tressa stretched. Her arms rose above her head, fingers laced. She rolled her shoulders, letting her arms fall back. Tressa bent forward at the waist, elongating her back muscles. She smiled and closed her eyes, remembering how Leo had taught her to condition her body, giving her more strength, flexibility, and stamina. If two warriors were evenly matched, winning often came down to who could outlast the other. Tressa swore before she tried out for the Black Guard in Ashoom that she would always last longer than anyone else.

Tressa stood straight and lazily opened her eyes. Donovan still sat on his rock, smoke coming from his pipe. She looked beyond him to Fi... but her friend was nowhere to be seen.

"Fi?" Tressa called out. Puzzled, Tressa looked around. Unless Fi had submerged under the water, there was no place to hide. "Donovan," she said nervously, "did you see where Fi went?"

Donovan's eyes popped open. "Gone? She couldn't go anywhere. I did not hear her, either." He sprang up, his pipe on the ground and his sword in his hand. He walked carefully to where Fi had been. "Did you see anything unusual?" he asked Tressa.

"No, nothing. When I walked away, Fi was sleeping peacefully under the shadow of a cloud."

Donovan pointed up at the cloudless sky. "That was not a normal shadow," he said. "It was a shade. I fear your friend has been taken."

Connor ran toward the village square, Hazel fast on his heels. The children's screams grew louder and shriller. Connor rounded a house and stopped abruptly. He swung out his arm, catching Hazel before she could run past him.

"Stop," he ordered.

"My babies," she whispered through gasping breaths.

Their eyes were trained on the grassy area just beyond the children. A dark shape rose from the ground, undulating in wisps. Fotia and Vatra stood between it and the human children, hissing and spurting fire.

"What is that?" Hazel asked.

Connor wished he knew. Of all the things he'd seen since leaving Hutton's Bridge, this left him speechless. He grabbed Hazel's shoulders and looked her in the eyes. "Do not leave this spot. Not until I say so. Do you understand?"

She nodded, her hands trembling.

Connor released his wife and spun around. He stalked over to Fotia and Vatra. "Good girls. Now back up, and stand with the other children."

Fotia huffed one more puff of white smoke at the dark thing in front of them. Vatra backed away slowly, hobbling on her short leg.

Connor turned his back on the children. He took a deep breath and looked up at the black haze. His eyes searched the shape for any indication of a face or limbs. Anything that would tell him what sort of creature stood in front of him. It wasn't human or dragon. Nor was it a kilrothgi. It didn't appear to be related to that thing Tressa had showed him under the Red castle. Just what he needed. A new enemy in the midst of so many others.

"Can you speak?" he asked it.

The shadow gyrated and rose until it stood higher than the village hall.

Connor's heart pounded. How could he fight something that had no flesh? He could turn into a dragon, but he had no magic to combat this thing. Whatever it was, it had gotten past the guardians. He cursed himself for trusting in Gaia and her brothers so blindly. Just because they'd kept dragons and kilrothgi out of Hutton's Bridge, it didn't mean they could keep everything out.

The children weren't safe here. No one was safe anywhere.

The breeze picked up. Leaves skittered across the ground, crackling as they jumped and vaulted over one another. The dark shape twirled around itself until it resembled a funnel.

"Get to the village hall, now!" Connor yelled. The children scattered and Hazel joined them, encouraging the little ones to go faster. Kurt grabbed Vatra and carried her in his arms.

Connor allowed himself only a moment to appreciate how his family was coming together before he returned his attention back to the thing swirling in front of him. He clenched his fists at his sides, preparing to turn into a dragon, until he noticed it taking a form he recognized.

A face appeared in the middle of the rising shadow. Sunken gaps were eyes, and lips were formed in gray smoke.

"You will die," a voice moaned from within the shadow.

"Nice to meet you, too," Connor muttered under his breath. He eyed the face. It didn't seem familiar, too indistinct to look like any one person. "Is that a warning or a threat?" he asked.

The lips parted. "It is truth."

"Am I to fight you?" Connor asked, still unsure of the shadow's intention.

"You will fight, and you will die a painful death."

Connor snorted. He'd already died once at the hands of Stacia. Yet, here he stood, alive and well. Better, in fact, than he'd ever been. Death no longer scared him.

"The dragons will die. The humans will become slaves. All will bow to the power of Desolation. We are coming."

"Thanks for the warning," Connor said, annoyed. What kind of enemy announced its presence before attacking? Was the army trapped in Desolation really so conceited as to think the people in the Dragonlands would simply cower before them?

"It is no warning," the shadow said. A chilling chortle echoed in the quiet village. "Everyone will die. Starting with you."

The face disappeared into the swirling shadow.

Connor let out the breath he'd been holding and transformed into his sapphire dragon. He reared up on his back legs and sank his talons into the shadow. He fell forward into it, and a chill swept over his whole body, causing a shudder from his head all the way to the tip of his tail. He thrashed and clawed at the darkness, his teeth biting at nothingness.

The chill continued to spread, sinking under his scales. Connor backed away and fell to the ground. His body landed with a loud thump. He opened his eyes and saw the door to the village hall swing open. Hazel and Fotia ran toward him. If he were human, he would have screamed for them to stay away. They needed to protect themselves. As it was, Hazel fell next to Connor's head. She laid her hands on him, tears streaming down her face. Fotia licked his snout and nudged him.

"Are you prepared to die?" the shadow asked him in that vile voice.

"Not today," a familiar voice said, lazy and sarcastic. Connor opened one eye and saw Pia standing in the doorway. She sauntered out into the village square, her hands held high. With a smile and a wink, she blasted the shadow with fire streaming from her palms.

The shadow burst into the sky, flying through the air faster than her fire could catch.

Pia wiped her hands together. "Well, that was unexpected. Good thing I was here to help."

Connor shuddered once more, then changed back into his human form. He had been too weak to put his clothes on during the change, and he lay naked on the grass, shivering.

"Get Lily," Hazel told Pia. "She can help me carry Connor to our cottage. Don't let the kids out of the village hall. And thank you, Pia. Thank you so, so much for saving my husband."

Pia shrugged. "It's not like there's anything else to do in this place. Besides, it was nice to use my magic for once. It's not something prostitutes have much occasion to use."

Hazel tugged Connor's pants up his legs, then pulled him to standing, one arm draped over her shoulder, the other arm draped over Lily's. The poor cook was collapsing under his weight, but she held him as best as she could. They made their way through the village to his cottage.

"Thank you," Hazel said to Lily. "Please keep an eye on the children. If that thing shows up again, ring the bell in the village hall and I'll come running. Right now I need to care for my husband."

Connor sank down on the bed, shivering.

"Here," Hazel said, handing him a blanket. "Put this over you."

Connor pulled the rough wool up to his chin. It wasn't enough to take away the chill that ran deep into his bones. His eyelids fluttered as he looked at his wife.

She gazed back. "Is that helping?"

He nodded, but the violent shaking of his body told her different.

Hazel stood and pulled off her clothes, standing in front of him stark naked and completely beautiful. She lifted the blanket and slipped underneath it, pulling Connor's body against hers.

Warm. Hazel was so warm. Connor found himself snuggling close to her, longing for every part of her skin to touch his and bring the warmth back to his body.

"We haven't gone through so much for me to lose you to this," Hazel muttered into his ear. "I won't let you go now."

Connor's lips were so cold he couldn't respond. Not with words. Instead, he rested his lips on hers and kissed her. Not out of gratitude or lust. It was an expression of how he truly felt about her. She'd lived through torture in Malum when Tressa's father, Fenn, wanted to find Connor. She’d ignored his own rejection of her when they'd all been rescued. She put up with his confusion and sadness.

Hazel was a woman worthy of great love and Connor wanted nothing more to give it to her, even if he couldn't remember their past together.

A tear slipped down Hazel's cheek when their lips broke apart. "Connor..." she whispered.

As his skin warmed and his limbs could move again, he took Hazel in his arms and showed her exactly how he felt about her.