Authors: Mari Mancusi
She sat down on the couch anyway, ignoring the swampy smell that filled her nose. She closed her eyes, thinking hard about the most beautiful flowers she’d ever seen—a bouquet of red roses from an old Technicolor film. Sure enough, a moment later that very bouquet appeared on the coffee table in front of her, nestled in a crystal vase. She grinned. She had to admit, she kind of liked the way things worked here.
“Just make yourself at home, why don’t you?” Caleb said sarcastically, observing her handiwork with disapproving eyes.
“Thank you. I absolutely will.”
She looked around, her eyes falling upon a sweeping staircase in the center of the room with several broken stairs. Using her mind, she set about fixing them one by one by one, restoring the beautiful marble to its finest, sealing up any cracks. When she had finished, they gleamed. Then she turned to the windows and started smoothing out the warped glass panes.
“Enough already!” Caleb cried. He threw himself in front of the window she was working on, as if his body could block her repair. “Stop fixing things! This is my house. My—”
“You know, this place could be really amazing,” she said calmly. “If someone cared enough about it to put in the work.” She moved on to the curtains, sewing up each moth hole.
“Well, no one does, okay?” Caleb retorted. He stalked over to the newly repaired drapes and grabbed them, purposely ripping them in two. “So cut it out.”
She stopped. She folded her hands in her lap and stared down at the roses.
“Is that why you come here?” she asked quietly. “Because you think no one cares?”
His pale face flushed bright red. He dropped the drapes. “Why are
you
here?” he growled. “Why can’t you just leave me to my misery like everyone else?”
She rolled her eyes. Here he went again. “God, you remind me so much of Mac,” she couldn’t help but mutter.
Caleb frowned. “Who’s Mac?” he demanded, as if he didn’t really want to know. “Your boyfriend?”
“My brother,” she corrected quietly. “He was just like you.”
“Super hot with a biting wit?”
She shook her head. “A drug addict.”
“What?” he cried, losing his cool. “I’m not—”
Scarlet held up her hand. “Don’t even bother,” she interrupted. “Trust me, I’ve heard it all before. You’re not addicted, you only do it for fun, you can quit anytime, blah, blah, blah.”
“But it’s—”
“No. It’s not true,” she bit back, her voice rising. “You know it’s not, so don’t waste your time trying to lie to me. I saw you passed out in the alleyway. I saw you go through detox symptoms for the last two days. And I saw that hungry look in your eyes when Mara pulled the gem from her pocket.”
“Now hold on,” Caleb interrupted. “That all may be true. Except for the Mara thing.”
Scarlet raised a skeptical eyebrow. He blushed.
“Okay, so I wanted it. Of course I flecking wanted it. But I wouldn’t have taken it, I swear. Except that I realized it was my one last chance to save them.”
“Excuse me?”
His mouth twisted. “Look, I know what they think of me, okay? I know that’s why they offered me the gem in the first place. Put poor little bad twin out of his misery so he’ll come along quietly.” He scowled, and the lights in the room flickered, reflecting his mood. “But I figured maybe for once in my life, my pathetic reputation might work in my favor. I could palm the gem, then leave a message for my brother through the Nether somehow—like we used to when we were kids. I could let him know that the Dracken had their location and were on their way. Then at least he’d be able to get Trinity and Emmy to safety.” He sighed, looking a little sad. “He’s good at that kind of thing, don’t you know? Protect and serve and be a goddamned hero. I should have just let him have the job from the start.”
Scarlet bit her lower lip, feeling a little ashamed. Here she’d thought he’d taken the easy way out. But had she been wrong? Had he really been making one last-ditch effort to help them? Sacrificing himself to save his friends?
“So that’s good, then,” she said, trying to sort through what he was saying. “Connor will protect Trinity and Emmy? And maybe they’ll come rescue us as well?”
Caleb looked at her sharply. “What do you mean,
us
?” he asked. “Did they take you too?” Guilt flashed across his face. “Man, I told you, you should have left when you had the chance.”
She shrugged. “Yeah, well, it’s too late now,” she said. “We’re both in the back of some kind of military truck, headed to some government facility or whatever. But it’s okay,” she added. “If your brother can just save Emmy, I’ll be—”
“He can’t,” Caleb interrupted, in a strangled voice.
“What?”
His face darkened. Outside thunderclouds cracked across the sky. “I couldn’t do it, okay?” he blurted out. “I tried, but I couldn’t make it work. I don’t have any spark left.”
“Spark?” She shook her head, confused. “What do you mean?”
“I mean you were right about me,” he retorted. “They were all right about me. I’m nothing more than a burned-out Netherhead who willingly went and wasted his gift. I couldn’t steel my mind against Mara’s probe then, and I can’t get a message to my brother to warn him that she’s on her way now. Hell, I don’t even know when I’ll be able to release myself from this god-awful place—even if I wanted to.” He stared down at his feet, his hands squeezed into fists. “It’s like I’m trapped here. Just like Trinity’s mother was. And there’s nothing I can do about it.”
Scarlet’s heart wrenched at the agony she saw flash across his face. It reminded her of another night. Another boy, trapped in another prison—also of his own making. He’d been cruel too. Calling her names, pushing her away, telling her to leave him alone. But those angry jabs hadn’t been weapons; they’d been cries for help.
“Oh, Caleb,” she whispered, placing a tentative hand on his shoulder.
He shrugged it off angrily. “Don’t feel sorry for me,” he growled. “I deserve everything I get. I was selfish, weak, stupid. I deserve to be left here to rot.”
“No,” she said firmly. “You don’t. And you’re not selfish or weak or stupid either. You’re sick. Just like my brother was sick. And you need to admit that. Admit you need help.”
“Of course I need help!” Caleb cried, turning away from her, his whole body shaking. “But who the hell is going to help me? I’ve pushed away everyone who tried to care about me away. Trinity, my brother, even my own dragon.” His voice broke. “There’s no one left.”
“Actually there is,” she said, placing a hand on his arm again, gently turning him around. She lifted her eyes to meet his own. “Me.”
For a moment he said nothing, just squeezed his eyes shut, as if unable to contain the anguish he was feeling inside. Then he opened them again. “Why would you help me?” he rasped. “You barely even know me.”
She was quiet for a moment. “I don’t know. I guess I kind of feel like I do. Maybe it’s because of all the craziness we’ve been through in the last week. Or maybe it’s because of my brother.”
“What happened to your brother?” he asked hesitantly, not sounding as if he was sure he wanted to know. She didn’t blame him. After all, she didn’t really want to say. But she didn’t have a choice now.
“He died,” she said slowly. “Two years ago—of an overdose or maybe a bad batch of meth. Who knows? It doesn’t matter, does it? Just that he died. He died and left me to face the monster on my own.” She could hear the trace of bitterness at the edge of her voice. The one that always came when she spoke of her brother.
“The monster.” Caleb looked up at her, his eyes widening. “You mean your mom’s boyfriend, don’t you?” he added, a growing realization reflected on his face.
She turned away, unable to meet his piercing gaze. She didn’t know how he knew that. More mind tricks, she supposed. At this point, what did it matter?
“Did he hurt you?” he demanded. “He did, didn’t he?”
“Mostly he hurt my mother,” she corrected, suddenly feeling very tired and very old. “I only got it when I tried to break things up between them.” She paused, realizing she was making excuses for him, just like her mom always did. Caleb needed to know the truth, no matter how ugly it was. She squared her jaw and met his eyes. “Yes. He hurt me. For years he’s hurt me.”
Caleb swore under his breath, his hands squeezing into fists. Outside, lightning slashed across the sky, followed by a roar of thunder. “That bastard,” he growled. “How could he do that to someone like you? You’re so small. So sweet.” He looked up, his face a mask of frustration and anger. “God, if I were your brother, I would have killed him the first time he laid a finger on you.”
“Yeah, well, years of getting the crap kicked out of you kind of dissuades you from that kind of bravado,” she told him. “Especially when your own mother knows it’s going on but refuses to do anything about it.” She shrugged. “Mac felt like he couldn’t escape. So he chose a different way out.”
Promise
me, Scarlet. Promise me you’ll look after Mom…
“But that’s so…cowardly,” Caleb cried, looking indignant. “He just gave up? Left you to face the monster on your own?”
“Yup.” She let the word hang in the air then gave him a pointed look.
He sighed, obviously getting her meaning. He scrubbed his face with his hands. “God, Scarlet, you must think I’m the biggest loser ever.”
She shook her head. “No,” she said simply. “I think you’re scared. And I think you’re sick. Just like Mac was. But unlike Mac, I think there’s still some part of you that cares. Some part that doesn’t want to give up. That still wants to do what he can to make this right.”
For a moment, Caleb said nothing. Only stared at her with eyes so intense she shivered, feeling naked under his gaze. Her knees buckled and her stomach flip-flopped madly. Had she made a mistake sharing all of this with him? Did he now think she was a fool, powerless to escape her family’s demons? She’d wanted to show him that there was hope. But had she only mirrored her own hopelessness instead? Suddenly she couldn’t bear the idea that he would think her pathetic, weak.
“Caleb…” she started.
He reached out, tracing her cheek with a gentle finger, brushing away a tear she hadn’t realized she’d let fall. Her breath hitched as his gaze locked onto her, his expression transforming before her eyes. Not a look of disgust or pity, she realized with a shock. But of childlike wonder. As if she’d just revealed herself to be some kind of goddess or angel, come to take him home.
She peered at him with serious eyes. “There are still monsters out there, Caleb. And I plan to take them on, no matter what. But I’d really love to have you by my side. Will you stand with me, Caleb? Will you help me fight the monsters?”
His answer came as a kiss. Tentative at first, his mouth whispering across her own, as if asking permission, then with more force when she didn’t pull away. His lips were warm. Soft. His kiss impossibly tender. And as his hands reached into her hair, a shiver passed through her, her whole body breaking out into goose bumps, her heart hammering in her ears.
“Oh, Scarlet,” he murmured against the hollow of her throat. “I’m so sorry, Scarlet.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” she assured him, her voice a breathless whisper. “Just tell me you want to keep fighting.”
“I want to,” he rasped. “God, I want to.”
She smiled, feeling his earnestness like a warm blanket wrapping around her. Maybe they could still make this work. She leaned forward, giving him one more soft kiss—then pulled away. When she did, she saw color in his cheeks. A bright red against his otherwise translucent skin. As if she’d literally kissed the life back into him.
Then she looked around the room and started to laugh.
“What?” Caleb asked, glancing over at her, puzzled. Then he followed her gaze, his jaw dropping in disbelief. The glass palace in the sky—the one that had been in such grand disrepair when she’d first arrived—was now gleaming, shiny, looking brand new.
Caleb blushed. “Well, that’s a bit embarrassing,” he stammered.
“I think you mean a bit awesome,” she proclaimed, rising from the couch and dancing across the room. “Oh, Caleb, it’s gorgeous.”
“It is, isn’t it?” he said softly. And it took her a moment to realize he wasn’t looking at the house. She felt her own cheeks flush. It was all she could do not to jump on top of him and start kissing him all over again. But there were more important things to discuss first. Like saving-the-world important.
“So let me get this straight,” she said, sitting down beside him, folding her hands in her lap to avoid touching him again and losing control. “You’re trapped here in the Nether and can’t get word to your brother. But somehow we need to get him a message to let him and Trinity know that the Dracken are on their way.”
Caleb’s happy expression faded. “Right. But there’s no way—”
“No way for you,” she interrupted. “What about me?”
“You never shared a bond with my brother. He won’t hear you if you call.”
“If I call from here,” she corrected. “But what about the real world? He has a cell phone right?” She paused, considering. “Of course I’m still trapped in that stupid truck…”
Caleb stared at her, a look of excitement dawning on his face. “There might be a way for you to escape,” he said in a low voice. “I mean, I don’t know for sure. It depends on how Emmy’s blood has bonded with your own. But if you could pull it off, I’m pretty sure you’d be able to get out of the truck at least. And then you could call my brother the old-fashioned way.”
“Yeah?” she asked, hope surging through her. “I’ll do it. Whatever it is. Just tell me and I’ll do it.”
He took her hands in his, looking at her with worried eyes. “Are you sure?” he asked. “It won’t be easy. And it’ll probably be dangerous. After all, the Dracken that have us prisoner? They can be real monsters.”
A slow smile spread across her face. “Well, it just so happens that monsters are my specialty,” she proclaimed. “So why don’t you go ahead and tell me what I need to do?”
Strata-A—Year 189 Post-Scorch
Connor stepped into the sterile hospital room, his eyes falling upon his mother lying in her bed. She looked frailer than ever, the veins in her skin like purple snakes winding around her body. She was hooked up to monitors, which beeped and whirled with information on her vitals that he couldn’t interpret, and a ventilator to help her breathe. When she saw him, she smiled weakly.
“My Dragon Hunter,” she proclaimed. “You came.”
“As soon as I could,” he said earnestly, knowing it hadn’t been soon enough. They’d been out on the Surface Lands when he’d first gotten the message on his transcriber that she’d been admitted after collapsing in the market. The cancer had spread to her lungs, the doctors had told him. They weren’t sure how long she had left.
He’d begged his commanding officer to give him leave to go. But they were too far out, he was told. They couldn’t spare a vehicle to take him back to the closest surface elevator, and walking back was suicide. So he’d been forced to stay until they’d found and slayed the ruby dragon that had been plaguing the glass gardens by the western block. A tough old geezer that refused to leave his lair—even with the lure of the hunters’ songs. And so they had laid siege until the dragon finally got too hungry to hunker down and flew out, giving them a clean shot. As the days had ticked by, Connor’s worries had grown. Would his mother even be alive when he returned?
“I’m sorry it took so long,” he said, sitting down in the chair beside her bed. “We were out on assignment.”
He told her the details, assuming she’d be excited to hear them as usual. But when he saw the look on her face, he stopped midstory.
“What?” he asked, puzzled.
She glanced toward the door. “Can you close that?” she asked.
He rushed to do her bidding. When he had returned, she smiled at him. “My cancer is gone.”
“Wait, what?” he blurted out. Of all the things he’d expected her to say, this was certainly not one of them. “What do you mean, gone?”
“Lower your voice,” she hissed. “They’ll find out soon enough, and it has to seem natural. Or they’ll arrest your brother.”
Connor raked a hand through his hair, even more confused. “What are you talking about, Mom?” Was she starting to suffer delusions as well?
“Two days ago, Caleb came,” she told him, a smile creeping to her lips. “He injected dragon’s blood into my IV.”
“He did
what
?” Connor almost roared. Then he remembered himself. “Oh God, Mom, I’m so sorry. If I had been here…”
His mother waved him off. “You’re not listening,” she admonished him. “Your brother saved my life. I was so weak I could barely sit up in bed. Now I feel like I could dance around the room. Run a marathon. Slay my own dragon.”
Connor felt like he was going to throw up. There had always been rumors that dragon’s blood had healing properties. But no one had ever synthesized it properly. And the rats and other animals the scientists had experimented on had all died after a few days. He felt tears well in his eyes. What had his brother been thinking?
“Connor, don’t cry. This is a good thing. Your brother met up with these people—the Order of the Dracken—you know, from the Sky Houses. They gave him a job. They gave him a dragon. And they gave him the blood to heal me.” She smiled up at him, a guileless smile that broke his heart. “The doctors won’t understand, of course. They’ll probably call it a miracle. But I’ll always know. It was because of my son. My Caleb.”
Connor felt as if the lump in his throat would strangle him. He wanted to shake his mother, tell her she didn’t know what she was talking about. That the blood would not heal her—that she would be dead in a week like all the others. But how could he? How could he steal away the first sparkle in her eyes he’d seen for months—maybe years?
All this time he’d slaved away, doing what he could to keep her in food and medicine and shelter. Draining, dirty work that made him want to curl up in a ball at the end of the day and sob like a baby. For months, for years, he’d done it without complaint—all for her. And now his brother had waltzed in and poisoned her with what he told her was a cure. And in a week she would die, Caleb’s praises still fresh on her lips.
“Mom…” He started then he stopped, realizing that he’d been so angry at the blood transfusion news, he’d missed the other thing she’d said. “Did you just say Caleb has a
dragon
?” he said. “Like a real, live dragon?”
“Oh yes,” his mother agreed. “Her name is Trinity—like that girl—the founder of the original Dracken. He showed me a video of her on his reader. She’s beautiful, Connor. A descendant of the great Emberlyn herself.” A smile played at the corners of her lips. “I’ve never seen your brother so happy—so alive. And after tomorrow, their bond will be complete. They’ll be together forever.” She locked her eyes on him. “But don’t tell anyone,” she added, as if remembering. “Of course it’s extremely illegal to own a dragon. If someone were to find out…”
“Oh I won’t tell anyone,” Connor managed to grind out, forcing himself to his feet. “Trust me. I won’t tell a soul.” He started toward the door, his heart hammering in his ears as rage and worry fought for dominance.
“Where are you going?” his mother cried after him, sounding concerned. “You just got here—are you really going to leave?”
“I’ll be back,” he promised her. “But first I’ve got to go find Caleb. I’ve got to…thank him…for all he’s done.” He paused then added, “And, of course, I’d like to meet his dragon.”