Descendant (32 page)

Val and Akers exchange a guilty look. Val says, “Long enough for the followers of the Dark Prince to gain uncountable powers. Whether or not their sacrifices are being kept alive, clearly many Gifted have been cut, their powers drained.”

More murmuring among the Dragons. The wind shifts, momentarily clearing away the acrid air and replacing it with tiny snow flurries that sparkle in the weak sunlight. A finger of air blows up my dress, raising goose bumps along my back.

“It has begun,” the Dragon leader murmurs. And then, “Introduce your students.”

Val presents each of us. “This is Eric Fisher, Gifted with Ice Conversion.”

“Rose Westover, Gifted with Tongues of Persuasion.”

Okay, I really should’ve figured that one out on my own.

“Jennifer Thomas, Fire Summoner.”

“Ah, yeah. About that.” Jen shakes her head. “Not exactly something I can control. I’m not sure I’ll be of any help to anyone. Just so you know. In fact, if you feel the need to take it from me, I’m cool with that. I wouldn’t mind not having to worry about burning holes in everything I touch.” Val shushes her.

The Dragon leader bows, offering Jen a brittle smile. “A Gift cannot be removed except by use of the Arawnian Dagger. The means are painful, dangerous, and potentially deadly. Think very hard before thoughtlessly offering to toss away a Gift from the goddesses. There are those who seek to take that ability, and in doing so, will not hesitate to forfeit your life. And that, I’m afraid, would be a lucky thing indeed.” Jen gulps but remains silent as the Dragon leader moves to face me.

Nerves make my mouth feel dry and sticky. With a hand on my shoulder, Val introduces me. “This is Abigail Johnson, Gifted with both Healing and Sight, current guardian of the Ring of the Princess.”

“This is our new guardian?” The Dragon rubs his forehead, looking bewildered for the first time since he appeared. The wide sleeve of his cloak falls around his elbow, exposing the pale, pale skin on his forearm and a snakelike tattoo. “And two Gifts? Very
unusual.” His deep green eyes bore into mine, like he’s trying to see inside me, through me. Then he murmurs, “Can it be?”

“Can, and is.” Val smiles, looking like a proud father. He makes me feel bold, important.

I straighten my back, annoyed by their secret communication. Mr. Akers notices and grins at me. The head Dragon bows, ever the gentleman. “You may call me Sir Zane, Dragon Master.”

Dumb title. Sounds like a video game login.
“How about just Zane?”

He looks taken aback, but shrugs. “Whatever suits you.”

To Zane’s left, a fair-haired man with perfect white teeth and deep blue eyes bows as Zane introduces him. “Captain Tobias, my second-in-command.”

“Call me Toby, Mistress.” The tattoo on Toby’s neck peeks out from beneath his hair as it falls forward. He winks and straightens, then moves aside to make way for another cloaked figure, this one with hair like muddy water and eyes gray as the pre-dawn sky.

“Captain Gabriel,” Zane continues, “who usually stands at my right, except when Captain Akers decides to grace us.”

Gabriel playfully slaps Akers on the shoulder, dancing aside to avoid a return slap, and I gasp, worried he’ll fall off his floating sphere. “Gabe, at your service, Miss Abigail, Guardian of the Ring of the Princess. And serving your boisterous friends as well.” His cheeks are tinged pink when he stands upright, biting his lip, clearly trying to hold in a fit of laughter. The expression hits a memory. I’ve seen Gabe before.

“Have we met?”

Gabe lets his laughter free. He’s much more informal, more comfortable than the rest of the Dragons. I like him. “Yes.”

Of course. The lodge.
“I thought you were a Ranger?”

Gabe’s lips twitch as he sinks into a bow. “My day job.”

“Well, it’s nice to see you again, Gabe.” To Val, I whisper, “Why are they all bowing?”

Val folds his arms. “Protocol, I suppose. The Ring of the Princess was lost to us when Theron died, and the royal bloodline lost with it. Or so we thought. If your ring is the one Theron gave to Raina, the fact that you’ve shown up wearing it and haven’t been burned to
ashes by its powers indicates you carry the bloodline of Theron and Raina. Theoretically. Didn’t Kye or Eoin explain all this?”

“Not about burning to ashes. Or the bloodline either, come to think of it.”

“Well, let’s call the bowing thing a show of respect. The Dragons were fiercely loyal to Raina. If that loyalty has been carried forth, it is only to our advantage right now. Why don’t you tell them what you know and see if they can help us find Kye?” The wrinkles at the corners of his dark eyes deepen. For the first time since I met him, Valdemar appears vulnerable.

O
n a moss-covered forest floor, a crumpled form struggles for life-sustaining breath. Blood flows from the tips of his reddened hair and runs down the sides of swollen, purple cheeks. A sticky, red trail spreads away, as if someone dragged him to this place and flung him carelessly in a corner like garbage. I run to him, screaming his name, but can’t reach him before the monster that guards him stops me cold. “Only one of you can live.” His fetid breath blows in my face, the smell only explainable by centuries of decay. “Which one will it be?”

Cradling my rounded belly, I coax movement from the life inside me, wondering how I can ever choose between the two, the death of my love or the life of his child.

“A
bby.” Valdemar murmurs. “Focus. Draw away and focus.”

The bitter taste of bile has risen in my mouth. I swallow it, concentrate, twisting my ring around and around. I won’t let it come to anyone’s death. Not this time. Power zings up my spine. I draw myself up to full height, shaking off the effects of the vision, and meet Zane’s eyes. “Sir Zane, we need your help.”

Geothermal
  heat radiates from the walls in the underground Dragon Council chambers. The temperature stifles my breath and causes a sheen of sweat to coat the back of my neck as I explain what happened in Las Vegas and New York—minus some personal details.

Eric stares at the table, gripping the edge with white knuckles, and when I get to the part about sharing a hotel room with Kye, beads of sweat roll down his forehead.
Guilt, guilt, guilt.

Zane hunches over a notebook, scribbling fast. When I tell him what Tynan said, he looks up, frowning. “Into the jaws of the beast?” I nod, and he taps the tablet with his pen, staring at the smooth wall. “To restore the true order of Dryden?”

Val asks, “What are you thinking, Zane?”

Zane leans back, rubbing a hand over the tattoo on his neck. “They must have taken Kye to the chambers where the sealed tomb is located. It’s not far from here.”

Kye is close. I can go to him. My heart flutters.
I can save him.

“The question is, why?” Zane continues. “Why him? Why there?”

“Because of me,” I say, my eyes refusing to focus. “They want my ring. I have to go to him.”

Whispers echo across the room as the Dragons speculate on the possibilities. Valdemar, Zane, and Akers lean together for a hushed conversation. When the buzz finally dies, Zane looks at me again.
“The Dragons can’t go into the chambers with you. Only guardians in possession of one of the Arawn Keys can pass through the portal that will take you to the tomb.

A knot forms in my stomach. “I have two Keys.”

Val nods. “Yes. Which means two people can pass through.”

I glance around, wondering who I should take with me.
Whose life am I willing to risk?
Zane grips the back of my chair. “Who will you send?”

I shake my head, unable to make such a choice. “I’ll go by myself.”

A chorus of disagreements rumbles around the table.

“No!”

“Abby, you can’t.”

“That isn’t a good idea.”

I ignore them and ask Zane, “Will you show me the way?”

Chair legs scrape against the floor as Zane stands, weary. “I can take you there, Abby, but you need to think this through. It’s a trap. They
want
you to come, and they expect you to bring both Keys. By taking Kye, they’ve set you up to lose one way or another. Either you surrender yourself—in which case they’ll take the Keys, your Gifts, and probably your life—or they kill Kye. If you are the one to go, the chances of you both surviving are slim to none. I understand you care about him—”

“Let me tell you something,” I say, and the room goes silent. “I’ve spent my whole life running from things I didn’t understand. I’m tired. Kye is the first—the only—person who truly understands me. He taught me to face my problems and find a way to solve them rather than run. I have to go after him.”

“Listen.” Zane and the other Dragons stand on one side of the table, facing off with me and my friends. “However much you care about him—and I promise I understand—going through that portal means risking the Keys. Do you know what will happen if Tynan’s people get their hands on all four? This isn’t just about you and Kye.”

Furious, I lean toward him, bracing my hands on the table. “No, it isn’t just about me and Kye. It’s about Theron and Raina. How will Dryden ever be restored if Theron is killed again?”

Zane takes a calming breath. “Theron isn’t here.”

“You’re right, Zane. He isn’t. Wanna know why? Because Boone took him. Kye is Theron. Tynan called that one, not me or Kye.”
Zane drops into his chair, suddenly looking old. “Now tell me what’s at stake, Zane. Tell me I’m being selfish, that I haven’t considered the consequences.”

No one answers for a long moment, and then Val rests a hand on my arm. Strands of white hair fall into his eyes and stick to beads of sweat on his forehead, and for a second I can See him wearing a priest’s robe, offering fatherly advice and congratulations to the newlywed royal couple. “It’s your choice, honey.”

“All right, then.” I straighten, resolved. “Let’s go.”

G
abe holds me securely in front of him as we glide over the snow on his opalescent disk, my eyes closed against the wind as we swish past pine trees and around rocky outcroppings. Rose and Jen cling to Zane on his disc, Eric rides with Toby, and behind us are Valdemar and Akers.

“Sorry to hear about your friend,” Gabe says. “I wish there was more we could do to help.”

“You and me both.”

We fly past geysers, hot springs, and a wandering bison, and I do my best to push away the terror brought on by my most recent vision of Kye. The sun is falling toward the western horizon by the time we stop near the side of a mountain. Not far away, clouds of sulfuric steam twine a white trail around the tree trunks, winding about until the wisps evaporate somewhere near the top of the tallest ones. Gabe hops nimbly to the ground, his boots passing through a layer of snow, and offers me a hand. Behind us, Jen and Akers are arguing.

“Jennifer,” Akers says, “your skills will save Abby a lot of valuable time. It’s not going to get out of hand, I promise.”

“You can’t make that promise.” Jen stomps snow off her feet, only to have more build up.

“Come on, Jen. Look around.” Rose’s consoling hand is shaken off Jen’s arm. “Everything’s soaked. There’s nothing here to burn.”

“Except people,” Jen says. “I could burn people.”

Val folds his arms. “Young lady, you underestimate my ability if
you think I would allow you to burn your friends. Now, are we going to stand in the snow, or are you going to clear a path?”

Jen’s shoulders tremble and her eyes shoot killing looks alternately between Akers and Valdemar. Feeling like they’ve unfairly put her on the spot, I pull her aside, turning our backs to everyone else. “You don’t have to do this,” I tell her. “Really. I can dig my way through. I’m getting good at that.”

With a half laugh that turns into a deep sigh, she hugs me, holds on tight. “Thanks. I’m just—I’m so afraid. When I was twelve, I caught my mother’s kitchen on fire and my baby brother ended up with third-degree burns down his back. He’s scarred forever. I don’t ever want to be responsible for hurting someone again.”

Understanding completely, I squeeze her back. There are certain things that are too much to ask—too much to expect. “Don’t do it. I’ll find another way to get to Kye.” Releasing Jen, I turn to eye the several feet of snow that currently stand between me and the portal. I can’t walk through it, and shoveling will take hours, but I won’t ask for something Jen can’t give. I glance at Gabe, whose muscles bulge beneath his cloak. “What are we all doing standing around when we could be digging? Let’s go, people.”