Smoked (26 page)

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Authors: Mari Mancusi

BOOK: Smoked
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Chapter Forty-Five

Scarlet-mom? Are you here, Scarlet-mom?

Zavier paced the cliff side, smoke hissing from his nose as the panic rose inside him at an alarming rate. Where was she? He was sure this was where he'd left her when he went off to find his brothers and sisters and set them free.

So where had she gone?

Mother!
he tried again, pawing the ground in agitation.
Where
are
you? Answer me. Please!

But there was nothing.

He could feel the eyes of the others watching him skeptically. They hadn't wanted to come here. They'd only wanted to seek revenge against the humans who had kept them in their cages. But Zavier had talked them into coming to the mountain, to meeting the one human who was worth saving—the dragon mother to them all.

But now she was gone. Had something happened to her? Or… His mind skittered nervously. Had she betrayed them too?

No. Not Scarlet-mom. She would never do that.

The trick, however, he thought as he glanced over at the others, was to convince them.

Zavier!

His ears pricked at the sudden voice echoing through his head.
What
was
that?

Turn
around, Zavier!

The voice was commanding, and he almost obeyed. But at the last second, he stopped himself, realizing his mistake. The voice was his sister's. And she was gone. Whatever he was hearing, it was only in his imagination. He would never hear her real voice again.

A weight seemed to fall over him like heavy blanket, threatening to smother him, and for a moment, he wasn't sure he cared if it did. He was so exhausted from the day's events. And in the end, what did any of it matter? What good was revenge? It wouldn't get his sister back. And he knew, deep in his heart, she would not approve.

You
can't fight violence with violence
, he imagined her scolding.
And
now
you've lost Scarlet-mom too. You promised me you'd protect her. And instead, you left her to fend for herself.

He hung his head.
Zoe. I'm so sorry, Zoe.

It's okay, Brother. I forgive you.

He looked up, angry. That stupid voice again—that stupid, impossible voice that sounded just like his sister's, crashing uninvited through his head. He let out a small whimper despite himself, trying to block it from his mind. It was too much, too soon. He couldn't bear it.

You're not real
, he found himself crying.
You're dead. You're not coming back.

Want
to
make
a
bet?

He looked up. He couldn't help it. His eyes fell on the other dragons, now shifting and shuffling and turning their snouts to the sky. At first Zavier told himself they'd just spotted some kind of prey—a vulture, perhaps, or another large bird. Or maybe even an airplane flying too low. But then his ears picked up their excited murmurs. This was no bird, he realized. No plane.

It was a dragon. And not just any dragon. It was his sister. And she was coming in for a landing.

At first, he thought he must be hallucinating. But then he realized if he was, the other dragons were seeing the same hallucination. As she dropped down from the sky, they circled around her, snorting and sniffing her over. They all saw her. She was really there.

One of the larger dragons, a ruby red, turned to Zavier, narrowing his eyes at him.
I
thought
you
said
they
killed
her
, he demanded.

Zavier took a hesitant step back, his whole body shaking with fear. What was this? How was this possible? Could it really be her?

They
did
, he stammered.
I
saw
her
die. I…

Words abandoned him as Zoe turned, meeting his eyes with her own beautiful purple ones. A slow, goofy smile spread across her face. Then she took a hesitant step toward him. Her face was gaunt. Her soft scale was pierced and drained as it had been when she had died. In short, she looked like hell. But she looked like his sister. His sister whom he thought he'd never see again. She was there. Standing in front of him. Breathing. Living.

He took a step forward, and suddenly they were nose to nose. She laughed and gave him a slurp on his cheek as she'd done so many times before.

Hey, Bro
, she said with a grin.
Want
to
help
me
save
the
day?

PART 5:
CHAR
Chapter Forty-Six

The Council Chambers–Year 190 Post-Scorch

“The Council will see you now.”

Connor looked up from his reader, meeting the eyes of the assistant who was leaning in the doorway to the inner sanctum. The same girl who had escorted him the last time he was here, the one who had his rookie card and wanted to be a Dragon Hunter. But this time, she wasn't smiling as she made the gesture for him to follow her.

Rising from his seat, he walked through the doorway and into the same smooth, circular hallway that glowed with phosphorescent light. This time, however, there was no cheerful banter. No flushed cheeks, no talk of rookie cards or Academy scholarships. And when they reached the Council chambers, her voice was cold as she instructed him to go inside. Suffice to say, there was no suggestion of a post-interview rendezvous this time around either.

Not that this surprised him. Ever since he'd woken up in the hospital the week before after being shot by his own brother, he hadn't exactly received a warm reception from the population. But who could blame them? The security cameras had caught it all, and everyone now knew he was to blame. He had let his feelings for his family stand in the way of protecting the people. And now, because of him, the Council was in jeopardy of losing power to the Dracken.

He hadn't known just what his brother had stolen at the time. But it shouldn't have mattered. He had been an intruder in the most highly secured government lab—he should have been shot on sight, no questions asked. But Connor hadn't been able to do it—and had allowed himself to be shot instead. Caleb probably thought he was showing mercy, setting his gun to stun. But instant death would have been far better than the shame and humiliation Connor had suffered since. The knowledge that because of him and his weakness, the secret weapon—the precious Nether dust that the Council had spent the last ten years developing—was now in the hands of the enemy. They would use it to tame dragons and turn them on the Council. They would stage a coup, and the world would soon fall to their whims.

And it was all Connor's fault. In a moment, he'd gone from hero to zero, his Dragon Hunter posters stripped from the walls and set on fire. His status had been revoked, they'd taken his pins and uniforms, and now, today, the Council would decide his ultimate fate.

Drawing in a breath, Connor stepped inside the inner sanctum, this time not bothering to catalog all the luxuries inside. What did it matter? If the Dracken indeed got their way, it would probably all be burned.

“Connor Jacks,” the Council leader, Solomon, called out in an austere voice. “Approach the bench.”

Connor did what he was told, his head bowed, his eyes to the ground. He wondered if they would sentence him to the mines or just let him loose on the streets. He wouldn't last long in either scenario, he realized. The public wanted him dead; he had no doubt they could make this happen, wherever he ended up.

He didn't care. He deserved that and more. It was his mother whom he was worried about. Would she be kicked out of her apartment? Publically shamed in front of her friends? He winced. His father would have been so disappointed in him.

“Poor dear. He looks as if someone told him there was no Santa Claus,” cooed Frederica, the woman sitting next to Solomon. “Don't worry, Connor. Things are not as bad as they seem, I promise.”

Connor forced himself to look up, knowing he must look a sight: black shadows under his eyes, skin yellowed from the aftereffects of the stun gun. He hadn't been able to eat anything all week, his stomach tossing and turning, sickened by the public outcry. When once he had ventured out for food, people cursed at him and threw garbage at his head. And the shopkeepers all locked their doors.

“Just get it over with,” he muttered. “I'm ready.”

The Council members exchanged glances with amused expressions that told him they knew something he didn't. It should have concerned him, but in the end, what did it matter?

“Look,” he said. “I know it won't make any difference, and I'm prepared to accept whatever punishment you plan to implement. But let the record show, I am sorry. I know I made a terrible mistake. I fell short on my duties. I let my emotions sway my judgment. And I will live with the guilt of this for the rest of my life.”

“We appreciate your honesty,” Solomon replied. “And we are glad to know you understand the seriousness of your crime. It is a bad time for all of us, as you might imagine.”

“Yes. I understand.”

“The law states that your crimes should be punishable by death or a life sentence in the mines,” Solomon said. “Do you understand this?”

Connor winced despite himself. “Yes.” He held his breath, wondering which they would choose. While he had no real desire to die, it would be over quickly. A lifetime in the mines, he knew, would only drag out the inevitable.

“But what if there was a way to redeem yourself?” interjected Frederica. “What if we offered you a way to atone for your sins? Would you be interested?”

Connor looked up, his eyes wide, his heart panging in his chest. “Of course,” he cried before he even bothered to think about what they might mean by this. “I'll do anything. Anything at all. Do you want me to raid a Dracken sky house? Try to get the dust back?”

“No, no,” Solomon replied, shaking a hand dismissively. “It's nothing like that. My dear boy, what's done is done. At this point, the powder has probably already been dispersed and dissected. There's no going back from there. But we do have another…proposition. Another…mission, if you will. For a brave Dragon Hunter like yourself.”

Connor squared his shoulders. “I'll take it. Whatever it is, I'll do it.”

The Council erupted in excited conversation. Solomon banged his gavel. “Don't you want to know what it is first?” he queried, looking at Connor with raised eyebrows.

Connor shrugged, heart thumping in his chest. He knew whatever was to come next would change his life forever—and probably for the worse. But he had no choice. He'd made a mistake. He had to make good. Everything he'd worked for his whole life depended on it.

So he listened as they told him what they wanted him to do. And when they had finished, he found he was barely able to stand, his legs were wobbling so hard.

“So?” Frederica asked with a slow smile. “What do you think? Do you think you're up for such a task? Remember, once you go, there will be no coming back.”

He nodded. After all, in the end, what was there to come back to anyway?

He cleared his throat, his heart slamming against his rib cage so hard he was sure he'd break a rib. But somehow he found the voice to speak.

“I'll do it,” he declared. “I'll go back in time. I'll destroy the egg. I'll destroy the girl.” He sucked in a breath. “I'll stop the apocalypse. And I'll save the world.”

Chapter Forty-Seven

Present Day

“Gather round, guys! It's dinnertime.”

The hangar erupted in cheers and roars as Trinity and Caleb, aided by a few of the other Potentials, lugged large carts of food through the door. A moment later, they found themselves surrounded by thirteen hungry dragons, who were panting and eyeing the meat with much enthusiasm. It was a good thing they'd been stockpiling, Trin considered with a small smile, since they were literally now feeding a dragon army.

Once she'd found her brother again, it hadn't taken Zoe long to convince him to call off his campaign. And the other dragons had eagerly followed suit once they learned there was food to be eaten back at the base. Typical greedy, lazy pure-blooded dragons, Caleb had joked, eager to abandon their quests for vengeance in exchange for belly rubs and roast beef.

And so together, they'd headed back to the airfield where they were greeted enthusiastically by their new guardians—the Potentials—and briefed on their mission.

Of course, things were still bittersweet. Everyone was worried about Emmy. But they were excited to meet the new dragons too. This was, after all, what the Potentials had trained for all that time under Dracken rule. It was ironic, really, that now that same training would be used against their former masters.

Trinity had first assumed they'd assign the dragons to their new guardians, but Caleb had explained that the assignation should come from the dragons themselves. Just as Emmy had chosen her, they would choose their own guardians.

And so they did. The Potentials all standing in line, pulsing with excitement as the dragons looked them over carefully. And then, one by one, they chose. Trevor got a huge ruby dragon he named Burgess, after his favorite rugby player. Aiko was chosen by a sleek golden she named Filia, after a dragon in a beloved anime. Even little Noa was chosen, by a runt of the litter she called Baby. Trinity wasn't sure it was the best idea to send a ten-year-old onto the battlefield, but Caleb reminded her they needed all the help they could get. In the end, it was decided Noa and Baby could serve as medics, delivering lifesaving dragon blood to those who fell.

The week was spent practicing their maneuvers under the mask of night, so they could stay flying under the radar. Things had somewhat calmed down now that the attacks had stopped, but the terror alert remained high, and the government was still presumably looking for them. Luke and Nate and Natasha did what they could, feeding dragon sightings onto the Internet from places far and wide to help scatter the search.

At first, things were admittedly disorganized and chaotic. The dragons had never been ridden before, and the extra weight made them unbalanced and clumsy. A few Potentials suffered some bad falls. But by the end of the week, everyone was starting to feel good.

Trin watched Caleb stroll down the hangar now, talking with each of the Potentials as they rubbed down their dragons after their meals. He spent time with each and every one of them, going over the night's practice and quizzing them on the strengths and weaknesses of each dragon. Trin had never seen Caleb so happy and confident. For the first time in his life, he was the leader, and everyone respected his commands. He'd come a long way since the days of being a shivering Nether Head, and, she noted as she watched Scarlet come over and kiss him happily on the mouth, she was pretty sure she knew the reason. Alone, the two of them had been broken. Together, they had become whole.

Her heart wrenched—not from the old familiar jealousy worming its way through her as it used to. She was happy that they were happy and wouldn't want things any other way. She just wished she could have had the same happiness with Connor. It had only been a week without him, but it already felt like a lifetime. And to think of him trapped in the Nether, just as her mother had been…

She reached into her pocket, fingering the last Nether gem. It would be so easy to palm it now, to find him in his prison and run into his arms and cover his face with kisses. It was funny; she'd never truly understood how someone could get addicted to the Nether. But now she totally got it, all too well.

She pulled her hand from her pocket. She would wait. Going to the Nether now would only drain her spark, and she needed all the spark she could get to face the Dracken—hopefully for the last time.

“Save the dragon, save the world,” she muttered. “Let's do this thing once and for all.”

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