Phoenix (27 page)

“What did you find out?”

“For one thing, I quizzed my mom. You know how, years ago after she finished at boarding school, before she even knew she was a dragon, she met Ion and he went with her part of the way back to the village, right?”

“I’d heard something about that, but I thought he was working as a spy for Eudora, or trying to kidnap your mom away from your dad, or something.”

“See, that’s just the thing. Nobody knows what Ion’s motive was, or who he was working for, or why he was there.”

“But didn’t he lead your mom into danger?”

“I asked my mom about that.” In fact, I quizzed her so much she got suspicious, and wouldn’t tell me anything more after that, but Jala doesn’t need to know that part. I learned several things before my mom went mum. “Some of his actions, what he did and what he said, almost make it seem like he thought he was helping her.”

“Helping her?” Jala’s tone says she doesn’t agree at all. “I was a little kid back when all that happened, but people talked about it for years, and from what I heard, Ion led her to the yagi. Like he handed her over to be attacked.”

“But she was never hurt,” I remind Jala. “Which makes me think maybe Ion knew what he was doing, that he had some other motive in mind. She told me she didn’t feel truly afraid of him. And she was never seriously injured.”

“She was never injured because your father protected her. And the fact that she didn’t feel afraid only makes Ion all the more dangerous. It’s like he’s able to quiet your instinct for self-preservation. He’s able to undermine your defenses. He’s the worst kind of dangerous.”

“But he’s never hurt you, either,” I remind Jala.

She grumbles as we pick our way through the woods back toward the cabin. “Why are you so determined to do this? Why? You have the rest of your life to find some other dragon. You’re going to live for years and years, practically forever. Why do I have to introduce you to Ion this summer?”

Much as I suspect Jala may be weakening, and might even give in and help me after all, I keep any note of victory out of my voice for fear she’ll backtrack at the slightest hint of it. “I don’t want to meet some other dragon. I want to meet Ion. And if I’m going to meet Ion, there’s no advantage to waiting around. I’ve already waited another year. Besides, Wren laid an egg. My brother Ram’s wife, Nia, laid an egg, too. I want my children to be close in age to their cousins, so they can grow up together.”

“That’s overrated.” Jala blows out a sardonic huff.

“I wouldn’t know. I don’t have any cousins. You were the closest thing I ever had to a cousin, but you were just a friend, and when your real cousins were around, I didn’t get to play with you. I want that for my kids—family. Real family. This is my chance to give that to them.”

My words seem to have chastened Jala. “It’s dangerous,” she reminds me, coming back full circle to her initial argument—a clear sign she’s run out of protests.

“I will take every possible precaution. And if it becomes clear that Ion will not be a good match for me, or if it seems like I’m in imminent danger, I’ll give up on this plan and never mention it again. But I’ve just got to try. I can get out at the first sign of trouble, but I’ve got to at least meet him. Will you help me? Please?”

Jala shakes her head no emphatically, but instead of saying no, she says, “I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this. If anything happens to you, your parents are going—”

“Nothing’s going to happen to me.” I cut off her dire predictions before she can put them into words. “Nothing bad, anyway. Oh, thank you, Jala. You won’t regret it. Everything is going to work out just fine. You’ll see.”

*

“You’re not even bringing swords?”

“I’m going to give Ion a chiropractic massage. Why would I bring swords?”

“To defend yourself! He’s dangerous!” Jala blocks the cabin door.

“He’s a dragon. I’m a dragon. There’s not anything he can do to me that I can’t do to him. If I brought swords, that would destroy my cover. I’ll be fine.”

Jala steps reluctantly away from the door, but she doesn’t look happy. “You don’t know what he’s capable of.”

“Neither do you.”

“True. But at least I know enough to be afraid of the possibilities.”

Jala sulks most of the way to Ion’s castle. We hike through the woods—once again, we don’t dare fly. I’m wearing what I hope looks reasonably practical: jeans, just like Jala. Comfortable sneakers, mostly because hiking barefoot last night wasn’t kind to my feet, and also hindered my pace. And a v-necked, short-sleeved shirt in a magenta-violet sort of color that would match my eyes if I didn’t have color-dulling contacts in them.

I don’t want Ion to know who I am. Not until he’s fallen in love with me, anyway—or enough in love with me that there’s no going back.

Normally, I suppose it would be helpful for him to know I’m a dragon. He’s probably more likely to see me as a potential mate if he knows up front we’re the same species.

Normally.

But there’s nothing normal about being a dragon, and there are so few of us left on this planet that if he knew I was a dragon up front, he’d figure out easily who my parents are (fortunately, I tend to look more like my dad than my mom. Except my dad has a huge bushy beard, and obviously I don’t. But since Ion has mostly only known my dad with a beard, he hopefully won’t catch the resemblance).

And of course, the reason Ion can’t know who my parents are, is that whole old arch-enemy bit, and who knows what kinds of grudges and vows for vengeance he might hold against us, and the part about Eudora wanting to kill us all off.

Speaking of Eudora, she lives out here, in a castle not many miles from Ion’s castle. Yet another reason why I shouldn’t be flying around like a dragon—because Eudora wants to kill us all off, or possibly just control us, depending on if you believe my little brother’s theories or not.

Also Eudora’s yagi are probably around here somewhere, and since I don’t have swords with me I should try to avoid them, too, since yagi can smell dragons and track them down. Although, worst case scenario, I can always change into a dragon to escape from them (not that I want to do that if I can help it, since it would pretty much give away that I’m here and I’m a dragon, and all that).

I think Jala’s nervous, because she doesn’t talk much, and before long, the castle looms large in front of us.

It is so much bigger up close. And darker. And kind of…imposing.

Not that I’m scared, not at all. It’s a beautiful castle. It just didn’t seem quite so real from far away. More like an illustration in a book of fairy tales.

“What time is he expecting us?” I ask again, even though Jala’s already told me several times her appointment to give Ion an in-home chiropractic massage is scheduled for three in the afternoon. I pull out my phone and check the time. We’re a couple of minutes early.

“Three,” Jala answers. “I usually try to be early, because when I’m late—”

“He gets angry?” I fill in as Jala seems to search for the right word.

“No. Never angry. He’s only ever been nice about it. It’s almost worse.”

“How is it worse?” We’re walking up the wide stone steps to the front door, which is actually a mammoth set of double doors each a couple of stories tall.

“Because of who he is. And why should he be nice to me?” Jala sounds a little breathless. “Okay. I got this. You stand right there, behind me, and a little to the side.”

I take my position in the indicated spot, where I’ll be visible, but still not the first person he sees. No trickery here. “Okay?”

Jala shakes her head no, like she still can’t believe she’s doing this, and then reaches for the brass door knocker, which is a sort of gargoyle figure. I can’t decide if the figure looks cheerful or menacing.

This could so easily go either way.

The door opens and suddenly I’m looking at Ion. He’s so much bigger in real life. And his eyes—those crazy, silvery green eyes—are looking directly at me. He hasn’t even bothered with contacts or sunglasses or anything, probably because he wasn’t expecting anything new—just Jala, and she knows who he is.

His nostrils flare slightly, but he turns a pleasant smile to Jala, and suddenly I know exactly what she means about how terrifying it is when he’s being perfectly pleasant.

“What is this, Jala?”

“Sorry, I was going to text, you, but I thought it would be easier to explain in person,” Jala hastily recites her practiced explanation.

The real reason we didn’t warn Ion in advance, is that we didn’t want him to turn us down before I even got a chance to see him.

Wait a minute, am I still breathing? I totally need to remember to breathe. In. Out. I can do this.

“…and since my grandfather is getting old, and I’d like to return home to visit family, it just made sense to invite my friend Vivica to fill in.”

“Vivica?” Ion raises a questioning eyebrow my way.

Of course, Vivica. Sure, why not? I can’t very well be Zilpha, since it’s entirely possible Ion might have heard the names of my parents’ three daughters, and Zilpha is exceedingly distinctive. So I’m Vivica…the vixen.

Okay, it made a lot more sense before Ion said it out loud with that note of doubt-tinged-with-amusement in his voice. Why did he say it that way, anyway?

“She’s been going to massage school,” Jala continues, which is pretty much mostly true. I mean, after I hatched this plan to use the chiropractic massage angle as my excuse for getting inside Ion’s castle (since the only humans I know of who ever go in or out are Jala and her grandfather Xalil) I signed up for an elective course in massage. So I’ve had two entire semesters of study, not to mention the hands-on experience of growing up in a household of dragons, and helping out my parents and brothers, especially with that shoulder-blade trouble that’s unique to our species.

So I’m basically the most qualified person on the planet.

“All right, then.” Ion holds the door open wider and stands back. “Come in.”

Jala and I both step inside.

He meets my eyes again as I step in, as close to him as I’ve been yet, no more than three feet apart. He holds my gaze for what feels like an extra-long moment. “Jala’s warned you about what you’re getting into?”

“Yes.” I try to smile my most pleasant, confident smile, but my tiny, nervous voice betrays me.

Something twitches at the corner of Ion’s mouth. “Very well, then. Vivica.” He puts a little extra stress on my name. I have no idea why, but it sends goosebumps prickling down my neck. “You can stay. Jala, you may go.”

CHAPTER THREE

“I thought I’d stay and show Vivica—”

“You said she’s been studying?”

“Yes.”

“Then we don’t need to take up any more of your time. Run along. I’ll send Vivica when we’re done.” Ion’s speaking in an entirely pleasant voice, as if Jala leaving me here alone is perfectly normal and rational and maybe even a favor to everyone. He’s somehow steered Jala toward the open doorway. Now he’s got his hand on the door, ready to close it shut after her once she’s outside.

Jala’s eyes are wide, and she looks at me with obvious concern.

This wasn’t part of the plan. This was never part of the plan. She was supposed to be here with me the entire time. It’s not like she’s a trained bodyguard, or anything, but you know, safety in numbers.

Ion looks from Jala’s face to me. His eyes narrow the slightest twitch as he studies me. “Unless you’ve changed your mind and don’t want to be here after all. I’d completely understand. You’re under no obligation to stay.”

His eyes never leave mine as he speaks. There’s a note of challenge in his words, but also—especially as he hints that he’d understand if I didn’t want to be there—a trickle of sadness.

He’s all alone up here, isn’t he? Alone in this vast castle, and he doesn’t even expect me to stick around for one minute now that I’ve had a peek inside.

I’m not going to run away. I’m not afraid.

Besides that, I want to look into these eyes longer. Much longer. And study this face. It’s expressive—all dragon faces are, even when we’re in human form—but I don’t know how to read him yet. It’s as though all his words have hidden meanings, a second layer of significance I could understand if only I could figure out how to peel back the façade on top.

I don’t lose his gaze, and somehow, I keep my voice from shaking. “I want to stay.”

Jala’s eyes go even wider—an alarmed sort of wide—but Ion tips his head and closes the door after her.

We’re alone. I’m alone with the beast in the castle.

Except he’s not a beast. He’s a prince. All dragons are—or historically used to be. Every dragon used to reign over people who loved and supported them and hid them from anyone who might attack them. Both my father and my grandfather have entire mountain villages who can trace their roots back through the centuries, their ancestors guarded by the dragon kings and queens of old.

Whatever happened to Ion’s kingdom? Jala and Xalil have neither of them ever seen another human being there. Doesn’t Ion have people who love and support him as we do? What, did he eat them?

Maybe he is as evil as they say he is.

“The message treatment room is right this way.” Ion leads me across the vast, multi-storied foyer and heads down a well-lit hallway. Everything I’ve seen of the castle interior has been surprisingly bright. There are big windows everywhere, letting in natural daylight. You’d think, with all its vast stoniness and drafty windows, being in Siberia and all, this place would be dark and freezing.

“It’s warmer here than I expected,” I observe aloud, hoping to start a conversation. I don’t know anything about wooing or romance, but I’m pretty sure it’s going to have to involve talking. At least, any romance between me and Ion.

“Radiant geothermal heat,” Ion explains, glancing back at me only briefly. “There’s actually a hot spring below the castle. This first floor is always comfortably warm, even in winter. The upper levels can get quite cool at times, though.” His voice is smooth, echoing pleasantly off the walls.

He pauses at an ornately carved wooden door. “Here we are.” As he reaches for the handle, he meets my eyes again, but then pauses before opening the door, his face barely a foot away from mine.