Golden (14 page)

“W
HO
ARE
YOU
? W
HAT
ARE
YOU
?” Nat asked, awed at the transformation.

The old man wore a red robe that was the same color as the drakon and dotted with little scaly spots. His eyes were tired, but she saw within them a distant glimmer, a light that was slowly fading. This was clearly a man of importance, of magic. An aura of great strength shimmered about him. He must have been a powerful wizard in his time, greater than any. But he was old now, his skin withered, his hands dotted with liver spots, and his gray hair looked as if it hadn't been cut in decades, centuries perhaps. He heaved a sigh. “Emrys Myrddyn, Eternal Merlin of Avalon. Pleased to make your acquaintance,” he said, his voice sounding gruff. “Natasha? This isn't a surprise, is it?” He coughed when he spoke.

She nodded. She'd guessed as much that there was something different about him, that he was no ordinary drakon. Abruptly, she noticed the old man's eyes were red like the drakon's.

“Hello, Ryan Wesson,” he said, turning to Wes. His body trembled when he moved, and Nat feared he might collapse.

“My friends call me Wes,” said Wes, shaking Emrys's hand. Wes's strong grip engulfed the old man's hand, making the wizard's fist look like a child's.

“Wes then,” the wizard Emrys said. He turned without further addressing either of them, acting oddly, in the way Nat had seen people of advanced age sometimes act. She got the sense he was somewhere else, his thoughts distant. He knelt next to the Queen's dead body. He was still trembling a little, but this time it was grief and not age that stirred him. “Oh, Nineveh. How did it come to this?” He gently stroked the white fabric of her dress, brushing away a bit of the dirt, moving a fold of fabric to hide some of the blood.

“You loved her,” Wes said and Nat knew he knew because the pain in his voice was familiar.

Emrys bent his head and nodded once as he closed the Queen's eyes. Nineveh was gone, dead, and Nat felt a pang of regret. The wizard cared for her, his emotions were clear. “She was my sister,” he said. “And she has never agreed with me. Not in any iteration of Avalon in the infinite universe,” he said sadly. “When I wanted to build libraries, she wanted walls. When I wanted to train scholars, she wanted to raise soldiers. On and on it went. I thought we should tear down the walls between the worlds, but she only wanted to strengthen them.” He bowed his head again. “We are destined to oppose each other for eternity, it seems.”

Wes grunted. “I know the feeling.”

The wizard ignored him and closed his eyes. He stood, backing away from the body and motioning for them to do the same.

What is he doing?
Nat wondered, while the wizard continued his whispering. He raised his hands and Nat felt a bit of heat. She recognized the fire of a drakon; she knew the way it felt on her skin. She put a hand on Wes's chest and motioned for him to retreat. The Queen's body was glowing now, shimmering with drakonflame. “Thus does Nineveh pass from this world. Let her spirit rest.”

The great fire grew brighter and brighter, lighting the red world around them, like a sun rising in the darkness. The flame expanded, burning for a time before slowly sputtering out. Her embers drifted upward and into the stars. It was done. The body had vanished and not even an ash remained where it had once rested.

The Queen gone, Wes went to stand next to Nat. “I'm sorry I couldn't find you. I should never have let you walk through that doorway alone.”

Nat shook her head. “It was my fault.” She wished he would put his arm around her like he usually did. She missed having his hand in hers. She wanted the reassurance of his touch so badly she was almost shaking, but he didn't seem to notice.

The old man brushed his hands together. Despite his age, he still held great power—he had called the drakonflame as easily as Nat could have.

“Was she the one who cursed you into drakon form?” she asked Emrys, trying to distract herself. It was all coming together now.

“Aye. And the curse includes not being able to tell anyone about it. At least as a drakon I could move. One time she turned me into a tree,” he said wryly.

“I came for a drakon,” she reminded him. “But now you are no drakon and I fear I will never find mine.”

She had failed, she thought. Eliza would burn down the tower, or else Avo would seize its power for himself; either way, they were all doomed.

Emrys studied his hands, as if surprised they were no longer claws. When he huffed, Nat almost expected smoke to come out of his nostrils. He met Nat's stricken gaze with a stern one of his own. “You do not need a drakon to retrieve your own. You are its soul, its beating heart. Call your drakon, and it will come to you.”

“But the bond is broken,” she argued. “It has accepted another rydder.”

“Nonsense. A drakonbond is eternal. Listen and it will hear your call. You have everything you need to get it back,” Emrys told her. “You always have.”

“Will you not help me with this task?” asked Nat.

“My time here is done,” said Emrys. “I am needed elsewhere.”

“Where?”

“There are other worlds than these, my child, many different pasts, many diverging futures,” he said. “The mirror of Avalon holds infinites.”

He stared at both of them sharply. “The future of this world is in your hands. Choose wisely.”

“Is that it? Good-bye and good luck? We rescued you from a curse!” she called.

“And I am eternally grateful.” Emrys turned to Wes. “Remember what I said, Wes. Remember how the story ends. Remember.” He looked back at Nat. “Do not despair, drakonrydder; perhaps we shall meet again. There are other worlds than these.” With those parting words, he disappeared in a shower of red sparks.

“Wait! Emrys!” she called, but already the hidden universe was coming apart. The curse was broken, the drakon released from its cage.

Stars streaked across the sky; the earth rumbled underneath their feet. The dead trees shook into dust, the air became thin, and with a huge crash everything turned black.

T
HE
DARKNESS
GAVE
WAY
TO
FAINT
LIGHT
, to the distant glow of embers and the sounds of breaking rock. Wes's eyes blinked open. His head was still spinning from the journey back from the Red, but he steadied himself and tried to get his bearings. They were back in the conservatory of Apis, except the red door was now charred and black like the rest of the city. The drakon's world was gone, collapsed like a dead star, burnt like the red door. He felt shaken, dizzy. He'd seen the death of the Queen and watched a great red drakon turn into an old man. He'd seen her ashes drift upward to the stars.

“Snap out of it,” said Nat. He had forgotten she was beside him.

“What did he say to you? What do you have to remember?” she asked, her green eyes shining in the darkness. Her face and her voice helped steady him. She was the thing that kept him centered, and he knew he did the same for her.

“He said I should remember to save the world and get the girl.” He whistled, coming alive as he saw her.

Nat laughed. “Is that so?”

“Yeah. And he's a wizard, so you know . . . a pretty wise man.” Wes made a face. They'd both been through so much. It felt good to laugh.

“Wise guy more like it.” But she was still smiling.

“Pretty big job if you ask me. Saving the world's probably easier, though,” he said slyly. He moved closer, cleaning away the rest of the blood from her face with his own kerchief. As he wiped her face gently, it reminded him of the time he had bandaged her wounds on the trip out of New Vegas. Her ability to heal had been extraordinary. “You're not healing as quickly as before,” he said, concerned.

“Maybe because Vallonis's power is diminishing,” she said.

Wes kept his hand on her cheek, massaging the bruise.

He leaned in closer, forcing her to look him in the eye. “I heard what Emrys said to you—about the sacrifice? What sacrifice, Nat? What do you have to do? Tell me. I can help.”

“You can't,” she said dully. “It's my fate. Not yours.”

“We'll share it,” he told her, taking her hands in his, the way he had when she had brought him back to life on the ferryboat, their fingers intertwining.

“NO!” she cried, looking horrified. “You can't!” She pulled her hand away.

It cut him to the quick.

“Look, Wes, nothing's wrong except the world is falling apart, and every minute we spend here puts everyone at risk.”

“Liar,” he said, remembering Emrys had called her one.

She bristled. “You can call me names but that's not helping anyone.”

Wes decided to bluff. “If you don't want me around, that's fine. I'll leave you alone. We can go our separate ways,” he said, even though he wasn't sure where that would be. Where would he go? The world was empty without her.

Nat exhaled in palpable relief. “Great.”

“Fine,” he said, his jaw clenched in anger. He'd bluffed and lost, but he didn't show it. He was once the best runner in New Vegas. He kept his poker face. “If that's what you want. I'll find my own way back. Don't worry about me; like you, I can take care of myself.”

He left her at the conservatory and true to his word, he didn't look back once.

N
AT
CLOSED
HER
EYES
SO
THE
TEARS
wouldn't fall, pressed her lips together so she wouldn't call his name. She hadn't expected him to go, but he had. Was he just bluffing? That's probably what it was. He'd wanted her to stop him, to say something, anything to make him stay. But she'd just stood there, biting her lip while he walked away.
It's better this way.
This burden was her own, and if she was going to fulfill her destiny, she would have to stay focused. At least that's what she told herself. Half of her wanted to run after him. Half of her wanted to forget about whatever it was she was supposed to be doing. Hell, part of her just wanted to give up and collapse right there and then.

Call your drakon and it will come back to you,
the Merlin had advised. Yes. She would do that—she'd come too far just to give up, though part of her wanted desperately to do just that. But too much was riding on what happened next. She told herself to get a grip, and to focus on the task ahead.

She closed her eyes, willing back the drakonsight.
Let me see once more through my drakon's eyes.
The Merlin had said her bond still existed—that it could not be broken. If it was there, buried somewhere within, she needed to find it, so she went back to the time when she last rode upon the drakon's back.
How did I feel when I rode upon the drakon?
She recalled the wind in her hair and the heat rising off the drakonflame. The thrill of diving through the sky. The heart-pounding exhilaration of victory. She remembered the way the creature trembled when it readied itself to breathe flame, the way the fire would churn within it. She could almost feel the wind on her face, the warm scales shifting beneath her legs.

At first she only saw what was in front of her, the glass conservatory of Apis, the rubble and the broken statues, the charred door.

But then she saw it again.

A second image, one of the skyline of New Dead City. Two images laid over each other. Two sets of eyes. A warm feeling stirred within her. She was back inside the head of Drakon Mainas. She knew the creature's thoughts, its urges, its fiery heart, and, this time, she knew Eliza's heart as well. Nat felt the weaver's desperation, her thirst for revenge. They were ugly feelings, but try as she might Nat couldn't shield herself from them. She felt the hatred, the confusion. She pitied Eliza. To live with such hate. She wondered how anyone could manage.

Eliza had bonded with the drakon, and now Nat would be bonded with both of them. It wasn't exactly what she'd wanted. Her head felt like a loud room, her thoughts were crowded, unclear, but Nat cut through the static. She cried out with her heart of dread.

Drakon Mainas, come back to me.