Dragonfire: Freedom in Flames (Secrets of the Makai Book 3) (34 page)

EPILOGUE

“CAN I SIT HERE?”
asked Dorian. Tristan nodded with a slight smile, but didn’t open his eyes. “You’re doing okay?”

“Sure.”

It hadn’t taken much to convince Donovan to take his clipper ship out of storage, especially with the falcon’s approval. They sailed it to a small island in the tropics, where a brick house had been built at the turn of the century—another of Donovan’s dwellings that had survived the tests of time with little to no magic involved.

The ship itself was already designed for formal entertaining; an ideal place for Victor and Alvi’s wedding. Their families were flown in from around the world with only a few grumblings about such short notice, and a small fleet of yachts were acquired to accommodate guests for a few days, for those who weren’t comfortable with roughing it on the beach.

The ceremony had taken place on the ship, followed by a formal reception, and then most of the festivities moved to the island itself for a not-so-traditional Hawaiian style luau. Guests could lounge on the sun-bleached sand or in stilted canvas cabanas, or pass the time with jet skis and sea kayaks. The blending of two families seemed to be going well for everyone.

Dorian took his hand. The unexpected contact startled his senses for a moment and she pulled her hand away. “Sorry. I guess I thought…you’re right, it’s probably a bad idea.”

“No, it’s okay.” Tristan took her hand and held it with both of his, then settled back against the wall. “I’m just worried.”

“Your arm is better though, right? At least you don’t have that to worry about.”

“Yeah. That’s a plus.” Though it felt incredibly weak compared to his right.

He watched the falcon fly the short distance from the island to the ship. It landed briefly on the railing in front of them, waited long enough for Tristan to smile at him, then flew through an open trapdoor in the decking.

They were spending a lot of time together—the falcon and Donovan. It should have made him feel a bit jealous, to lose his friend yet again, but it didn’t.

A strange sort of distance kept him from feeling much of anything at all. Like an outsider looking in, only he had no desire to be in. Dorian gripped his hand, drawing his attention.

“Guess I’m not very good company right now.”

“That’s okay. I’m rarely good company ever.” She grinned and leaned against the wall, jerking forward when she came into contact with his invisible wings. “Oh, sorry!” She laughed. “Forgot about those.”

“It’s okay.” He put his weak arm around her and pulled her close, letting her lean against him. Even if it was for just a temporary time. He shut his eyes and let his mind go back to drifting.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Everything. Nothing.” Maybe someone on the dragon council, at least someone at the very beginning, did know about the ulterior motives behind the contract, enforcing the idea that it should never, never be broken…regardless of the human population status, to prevent a more horrible life for the magical creatures who lived on the surface. Were they even capable of fighting for themselves against whatever lived in the underworld?

Live honorably. Do the right things. Preserve the integrity of Dragons as a species….

His chest tightened. He quickly rested his chin on Dorian’s head to keep her from glancing up at his guilt-filled eyes.

Had he, personally, just condemned everyone, humans and magical creatures alike, to a war no one could win? All because he assumed he had enough information?

If only the council would have stuck with their original opinions—that he would destroy the world and everything on it if he continued with his plans. Andros even said the plans went against his gut intuition.

But he’d changed their minds and they’d all moved on with the belief that he would honor them with his actions. That he was doing the right thing. Worse, everyone he trusted and respected would live forever to witness the repercussions.

Sleep. He needed it desperately.

He’d been afraid to close his eyes in his cabin, not for fear of the ship sinking, but for the simple fact that no one would be able to wake him for, how long? Five years minimum? The world could be an entirely different place by then.

Pink would be long gone.

He glanced at the notebook beside him, filled with all the information he could remember about the living dragons the council kept records for. If the lifespan averages held true, eight of them would be dead in the next five years. Unless Donovan could keep them alive. He picked up the notebook and handed it to Dorian.

“What’s this?”

“Give it to Donovan. He’ll know what it is.”

“Why not give it to him yourself?” She sat forward and turned to stare at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Tell him not to stalk anyone, but to make friends with them. Even if he doesn’t want to give them specific information. Just...keep them alive. For me.” His eyelids fluttered shut and he felt his spine go slack.

“Donovan!” she yelled, trying to keep him from tipping forward. The notebook fell to the deck. “Don’t fall asleep, Tristan. Not yet.”

“Stay with me,” he breathed. “Don’t let me sleep forever.”

“It won’t be forever.” Her voice calmed. She slid her arm behind his back and pulled his head to rest on her shoulder. “We’ll be here when you wake.”

I would first like to thank the wonderful readers and fans who have kept this series alive through word-of-mouth and written reviews. Without you, these words would whither away unnoticed.

Special thanks to my faithful editors: Emily White, Angela Townsend, and Michelle McLean, whose red pens filled with kinship and kindness have been with me since the beginning.

Lastly, I thank my family for letting me do what I love, without too much complaint. Thanks guys! Really--I’m almost done! For sure this time!!

Toni Kerr lives with her husband, two dangerously creative children, and an Australian Shepherd in the Pacific Northwest. She loves the outdoors, horses, the high desert, Photoshop, music, salty things, and writing in the morning when all is silent.

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