Hunted (Book 2) (12 page)

A while later, a nearby crunching noise woke Bastian. He
shook his head, completely unaware he'd fallen asleep. He looked down. Fotia's
head was nestled in his lap, her little mouth open, tongue lolled to the side.
Bastian smiled. He couldn't help it. The little blue dragon was cute.

He slid out from underneath her, laying her head carefully
on the ground. He crept over to the chamber where Connor had been sleeping. His
friend was awake, his head cradled in his hands.

Bastian kept his eyes high, giving Connor his privacy.
"We should keep a change of clothes down here for you."

"That would come in handy."

"Headache?" Bastian asked.

Connor looked up. "Yeah. Feels like something's
crushing it. Do you suppose it might explode?"

Bastian laughed. "Never seen it happen before, so I
doubt it."

"Neither of us has any experience with this dragon
changing phenomenon. Maybe my head will explode and turn into something
else."

"I certainly hope not," Bastian said. "I'm
having enough trouble getting used to you as a dragon."

"It's not easy for me either," Connor said with a
drop of his head. "Even though I don't remember anything before Stacia
brought me back from death, or near death, deep down I know this life isn't
mine. Things are missing. Important things. My wife. My sons. You spoke of them,
but I have no recollection of them. Nor do I have any feelings toward them.
That's not right."

It wasn't. Yet in a way, Bastian envied him. If only he
could forget all those feelings for Tressa that were causing him so much
trouble. "If I knew how to bring your memory back, I would. If I knew how
to change you back to the man I knew, I'd do it," Bastian said.

Connor held up a hand. "I don't want to go back."

"But if you could remember – "

"Bastian, stop." Connor said. "If I am the
man you say I am, then you know I wouldn't want to lose this." His arms
spread wide, gesturing at all the chambers surrounding them. "I would take
responsibility for the eggs and Fotia. This is what I do. This is who I am,
whether or not I remember my past."

Bastian wanted to give a well-phrased retort. But Connor
was right. He would want to make sure everyone was safe. It was ingrained in
his personality. He cared for everyone, large or small.

"Then let me give you a chance to show you still care
for those in your past. The healers sent someone out to investigate Hutton's
Bridge. There's no one left in the village. Your wife and sons. My daughter.
The others who lived with us in peace, they are all missing."

Connor's eyebrows rose. "That is curious. Did they say
anything about which direction they'd gone? Why the mass exile?"

"No, there was no evidence."

"Strange."

"I know. I was hoping you'd agree to change into your
dragon form and fly Elinor and me around. See if we can find them."
Bastian kept it short and simple. No appeals about Connor's boys or wife. He
wouldn't pressure his friend.

Connor strolled past the chambers, each housing an egg. He
didn't seem to mind his nakedness, so Bastian pretended like his friend was
fully clothed and followed him through the cave tunnel. Connor paused at each
egg, laying a hand on the rough blue eggshells.

"You said only one is yours," Bastian said.
"Who do the rest belong to?"

Connor sighed. "Other men Stacia took. By what means,
I don't know. They were all dead by the time I came around. Each one of their
bodies was wrapped around an egg. That might have been my fate, too, if Tressa
hadn't killed Stacia. I buried them." He pointed to a mound in the back of
the cave.

Bastian shuddered. Twelve eggs left. One was Connor's. The
rest of the fathers had been sacrificed for Stacia's new army.
Bastian's gut turned. She had told him he wasn't worthy, but later said she
might consider him. If she’d followed through on that threat, he might have
been the one to find Connor and been forced to bury his best friend.

Connor spun and faced Bastian. "We will fly out to
find the villagers, but then I must return here. There is no one else to care
for the eggs. I will meet you and Elinor in the throne room soon."

Bastian clapped Connor on the shoulder. "We'll be
there. Thank you."

Connor turned back to Fotia and sank to the ground,
whispering in her ear.

Bastian made his way back up to the castle proper. He
paused outside the throne room. "Can you send someone to fetch
Elinor?" he asked one of the healers. Or guards. Whatever they were.

The man ignored him, looking straight through Bastian.

"Did you hear me?" Bastian asked again, the anger
boiling. He'd sworn not to erupt at these men. They were there to protect him,
after all, but their disregard was baffling. He clenched his fists at his
sides, forcing himself not to grab the man by the collar and throw him up
against the wall. Instead, he turned to the second guard. "Can you please
fetch Elinor?"

That man blinked twice. Other than that, not even an
acknowledgment.

Bastian was about to scream at them when he heard someone
approaching from behind. He whirled around. Elinor scurried down the hall, her
black cape flapping behind her. She wore a blue gown and her muddied black
boots.

"Are we ready to go? Did Connor agree?" she
asked, breathless. "Sorry, it's a bit of a hike from the castle to my
rooms at the Healer's Guild. I ran most of the way."

"How did you know I was just starting to look for
you?" Bastian asked, escorting her into the throne room. He closed the
doors behind him, giving the two guards a nasty look. Not that they saw him, or
would have even acknowledged him if they did.

"I didn't," Elinor said. "I took a nap. I
woke up. I came back. I'd rather be here with you than back at the guild. I
feel like I have a purpose now." She wrung her hands together, her ivory
cheeks pink. "I always knew I'd be a healer, but now, there's more.
There's a reason. I saved you and look what it led to. It was the best decision
I've made."

Bastian smiled. He couldn't help it. She was the sweetest
woman he'd met. Her emotional honesty was refreshing.

"Connor said he'd meet us up here as soon as he was
ready." Bastian put a hand on Elinor's shoulder. "Are you nervous
about flying?"

Elinor gulped. "A little. Partly scared witless and another
part is more excited than I've ever been about anything before." She
slipped her hand into Bastian's. "But if you survived the ride here, then
I won't die."

"Probably," Bastian said with a shrug.

Her eyes grew wide. "Probably?"

"I'm teasing you." Bastian chuckled. "You'll
be fine. But we have one important thing to decide before Connor gets here. Do
you want to ride in front of me with my arms around you or do you want to ride
behind me with your arms around me?"

Elinor tapped her chin. "I don't know. Which is safer?"

"Why don't you ride in front of me?" Bastian
asked. "That way you can see everything. If you're behind me, I'll block
the view."

Elinor gulped again. Before she could protest, Connor flew
in the window at the other end of the room. He landed gracefully on the floor
and bent on one knee.

"Ready?" Bastian asked Elinor, tugging on her
hand.

She nodded.

"It will be amazing, I promise. We'll find the
villagers, learn what their plan is, collect my daughter, Connor’s boys and
Hazel, and then we'll come right back to the castle."

Bastian helped Elinor climb up Connor's leg and onto his
back. Bastian hoped it really would be that simple. He'd already gone through
so much. What else could happen?

Three women burst into Tressa's chambers, their arms
overflowing with colorful bolts of fabric, spilling over their arms, dripping
to the floor like a jewel-laden waterfall.

"You're to be married tonight, my lady," the
first woman said. She swooped to the pillows, sitting next to Tressa, and
thrusting silken samples into Tressa's hands. Her long black hair, braided and
speckled with beads of every color, set off her mocha skin. "Which do you
prefer?"

"Married tonight?" Tressa's hand flew to her
mouth. He'd done it. Jarrett had come through just like he’d promised.

"Yes, my lady. Your betrothed has commanded it. I am
the royal dressmaker, Adara." She pointed to the two pale women who stood
quietly in the corner. "They are my assistants. I will measure you and
have a gown made in time for the ceremony."

Tressa felt overwhelmed by the choices. "I don't
know." She trailed her fingers over the fabric in her lap. In Hutton's
Bridge, they wore their normal clothes when married. Many women were in
maternity outfits by then since a wedding was only held once a woman was
pregnant. It felt so strange to make a gown specifically for a ceremony.

The silk slid through her fingers like water. It was fine
and soft, not at all what she'd need once she was Jarrett's wife and allowed to
leave the Sands. She wanted something that she could travel in. Something that
would move in battle and hide daggers in its folds. A fabric that could be
soiled and wouldn't tear at the slightest injury.

"The choice is yours," Adara said, "but if I
may make a suggestion." She rummaged through the pile and pulled out a
fabric of burnt orange. "This would compliment your eyes and your
hair."

It reminded Tressa of the sunset she'd seen the night she
spent with Jarrett in the tent in the middle of the desert. He'd always been a
complete gentleman with her, despite making it clear how he felt. Her heart
ached a bit. Confused. Torn. In Hutton's Bridge, only Bastian had made sense.
Outside the fog, her feelings were less clear.

"It's gorgeous," Tressa admitted. It might even
wear better due to its dark color. "Can you sew some hidden pockets into
it?"

Adara looked at Tressa out of the corner of her eye.
"What sort of pockets? For what use?"

Tressa held her breath for a moment, unsure how to respond.
She couldn't just tell the woman her plans, but she hadn't thought of a good
excuse first.

Adara waved to the two girls in the corner. "Leave the
fabrics here. I will call you when I need you. It's time to measure Tressa and I’m
sure she would like to maintain her modesty."

The two young girls nodded and filed out of the room
quietly, closing the door behind them.

Adara grabbed Tressa's hands. "Is it true you're from
Hutton's Bridge? And is it true you defeated the blue dragon? You must be a
great warrior."

A blush colored Tressa's cheeks. "It is true, but I
don't think of myself as a warrior. I'm just a girl doing what she has to
do."

"Don't be so shy." Adara waved a long, graceful
hand in the air. "Now, I am not only the royal dressmaker. I also
construct the elaborate uniforms worn by the elite assassins in the queen's
guard. I design coats and shirts and pants with hidden pockets for every kind
of weapon." She winked at Tressa. "It sounds to me like a woman such
as yourself would also need such an outfit. Am I right?"

Tressa wanted to trust Adara. Even if she was a spy for
Jacinda, she needn't suspect Tressa was going to leave. Only that Tressa wanted
to be able to protect herself. Since she was soon to be under Jarrett's control
and not Jacinda's, there was no reason to pretend she'd be a meek wife.

"Yes, you are. Can you make me a gown that will hold
all manner of weapons? Small ones. Like for a few daggers?" Tressa had no
idea where she'd find these weapons, but hopefully Jarrett would supply her
with them. "It also needs to look good belted because eventually I'll want
a sword at my hip."

"Well, this is really a gown just for your wedding.
You won't wear it again." Adara spread out the fabrics, all in dark
colors. An opaque ruby shift shimmered in the sunlight.

"Not wear it again?" Tressa was confused. Who
wore a gown only once? Especially one that a dressmaker went to so much trouble
to make?

Adara laughed, her cherry lips opening to reveal a mouthful
of perfectly white teeth. Her almond-shaped lids were beset with brown eyes.
She was a stunning woman. "Of course your wedding gown is only worn one
time. Often it doesn't survive the wedding night. Jarrett will be eager to tear
your dress from your body and ravish you.”

Tressa's eyes grew wide at the thought of Jarrett's hands
tearing at the neck of her dress, his lips wandering across her body. She shook
her head. No, not yet. There was too much that stood between them. Her stomach
lurched, a small pain traveling through her navel. Tressa sat down on the settee,
sweat dripping from her brow.

"Are you okay?" Adara put a hand on Tressa's
shoulder.

"I'm fine." Tressa sat up a little straighter,
the pain fleeting.

"A wedding gown should be beautiful. Sweeping.
Unforgettable. But if you want me to make you other dresses with secrets hidden
inside, I am happy to do so. I've always wanted to try that, but never had a
woman I felt was worthy of such a dress." Adara nodded, her eyes solidly
on Tressa. "You are different. You are the model I've been waiting for.
Tonight in your bridal suite you will find three dresses I've made for you with
daggers. I can see you have no weapons now."

"Tonight?" Tressa asked, surprised. "How can
you make three plus the wedding gown?"

Adara grinned again. "I am fast." She lowered her
voice. "It is also possible I have thought about this extensively and have
already constructed prototypes. Stand up, now. I need your measurements."

Tressa scrambled to her feet. Her head swam. Clearly she
was still too tired from all of the excitement. She complied with all of Adara’s
instructions, standing up straight with her feet together. She held her arms
out to her sides.

After a bit, Adara rolled up the strings she'd used for
measuring. "This will be very good. I will have my apprentices construct
your wedding gown while I tweak the other clothes." She clapped her hands
together. "I'm even more excited about the warrior woman dresses than I am
the wedding gown."

Tressa couldn't hold back a smile. "I am too. I can't
wait to try them on."

Adara pursed her lips and cocked her head to the side.
"One of them will be leather. Is that acceptable?"

"I can't wait to see it," Tressa said, truly
excited. Finally, things were working in her favor.

"Someone will come back this afternoon to fit your
wedding gown. Tomorrow, you try on your new dresses, and if you need anything
changed, you ask for me." Adara patted Tressa's cheek. "Who knew this
would be an exciting day for me as well as you?"

"Thank you for everything," Tressa said. "I
appreciate it more than you know."

Adara smiled again and left Tressa alone. Soon she'd be
able to leave and search for her people. Jarrett would secure the men they
needed to venture into the wild. Everything was falling into place.