Reckoning (Book 5) (13 page)

Donovan paced the cave, his hands behind his back. "I don't need sight. I can hear just fine, though it is a little muffled."

Hildie nodded, her spine cracking and popping. "That redheaded oaf must have draped something over the skull." Her jaws clacked with every word.

"Thank you for all of your work. Just remember, when all of this is done, I will release all of you as a reward for your unending devotion all of these centuries." Donovan patted Hildie's shoulder.

"What will happen to us?" Hildie asked.

They would disappear, no longer exist. That was the simple answer, but not the one any of the skeletons wanted to hear. Donovan needed to retain their loyalty through the upcoming battle. He also needed to procure a skin for his dear Magda so she could join him in life again.

"You will go back to Desolation, of course," Donovan lied. "There you will have your human body back again, just as you did before crossing over the border to the Dragonlands."

"It is as I had hoped, then," Hildie said. "The tunnel is almost complete. Soon Decarian will be able to emerge from the depths. We can begin our assault on the dragons then."

"Yes, on all but one. Remember, I can turn now, too. I don't like it. In fact, it boils my blood when it happens. I hope to use it to sneak into their ranks as the enemy comes closer." Donovan said, trying to tamp down his excitement. He would finally be able to destroy those filthy beasts. Bianca had ruined his life when she’d stolen his virginity and his blood, changing him forever. Now he would exact payback on his brother and all of his descendants. No one could stand in his way.

"Yes," Hildie said. Donovan imagined a smile on her face. Too bad she didn't have the cheek muscles to make it happen. "Your disguise is the cleverest of all." She bowed again, heading back into the depths of the cavern to supervise the workers.

Donovan sat, a skull in his hands. He closed his eyes, listening intently to the conversation in Bastian's cottage. Until he heard something he didn't expect.

"Damn it!" Donovan yelled. He punched a nearby skeleton. It collapsed to the ground, bones scattered over the dirt. "Tressa's alive. I thought she died on the Barrier Mountains. No one can pass over them. No one!"

Donovan stood, pacing the cave.

"My love, what is it?" Magda emerged from an adjoining cave. She rested a bony hand on his shoulder.

"Nothing. It's nothing. Just an unwelcome development I didn't expect." If Tressa lived, then her ghost dragons probably did, too. Those annoying people from Hutton’s Bridge would not die. Soon, they would. Donovan would make sure of it. Besides, the ghost dragons were harmless. All they could do was spit icicles.

"As soon as Decarian is prepared to emerge, send someone to wake me. I need all of the rest I can get right now."

Donovan left the cave, heading for the relative comfort of the cottage. He missed having Jarrett and Fi with him. It was too quiet. It wouldn't be for long, though. Soon they would both be back with him. And Donovan would make sure they’d bring him the most special prize of all. Tressa.

Tressa walked, alone, toward the inn. She remembered the last time she'd been in the Meadowlands. They'd been preparing for battle then, too, but it was different this time. There were no children running in the streets, laughing. The stalls in the market were closed, the essentials kept inside where all could share them.

The evacuation changed the Meadowlands from a place teeming with energy and enthusiasm to a quiet, furtive land. It was as if the life had already been drained from the Green. As if they had already died.

Still, some had stayed to carry on with the battle. For that, Tressa was grateful. She understood why they'd want to protect the children and those who could not, or would not, fight. The urgency was gone, though. It was as if the Green were waiting idly for something instead of preparing for battle.

The leaders, Jakob and Blythe, had thanked her for bringing the warriors from the Vulture's Tower. They promised her they were prepared to fight against Donovan and whatever forces of darkness he brought upon them. And yet, there were glances, faces made, that she didn't quite understand.

They were holding something back from her. Something important.

As long as they fought well, Tressa didn't care. Let them have their secrets. All Tressa wanted was victory against Donovan. After that, the others could do as they chose.

She strode into the inn, her shoulders thrown back and her eyes steely. Tressa had never wanted to be a leader, but she'd decided to take on the mantle. Someone needed to, and this war against Donovan was more personal for her than anyone else. She didn't want to be led by someone who cared less than her.

Someone had pulled the tables together. Jakob, Blythe, and Renny sat on the left. Rynth and Krom sat to the right. Connor and Fi were next to them. There were at least a dozen other men and women seated that Tressa didn't know. She quickly measured their expressions. None appeared to be anxious or irritated. In fact, at first glance, they all appeared to be confident and committed. Perfect.

"I’ve just finished speaking with Bastian," Tressa said as she took the seat at the head of the table. "He is awake and feeling better."

Murmurs of relief swept through the room.

"Then our warlord will be able to lead us into battle." Blythe sat back, a smile on her face.

Connor had filled Tressa in on everything she'd missed. That woman was the one who had brought Bastian back from the dead. She'd been looking for someone to fulfill the prophecies she so desperately believed in. It was probably easy for her to forget Bastian had a life before she turned him into a dragon. While Tressa knew Bastian had accepted the mantle Blythe offered, she still had misgivings.

"We need to give him time to recover. A head injury is never a simple thing." Tressa pretended she didn't see the annoyed look on Blythe's face. "In the meantime, we need to talk strategy. I'd like to turn the meeting over to my friend, Krom."

The others were quiet as the large man in the gray cloak stood before them. "Thank you, Tressa. Fi," he nodded toward Tressa's friend, "has told us where Donovan is hiding. I think it would be in our best interests to move toward his position. Perhaps we can even take him by surprise."

"No," Blythe said. "We make our stand here."

Tressa stood, placing her palms on the table. "Blythe, if Donovan continues to attack us here, there is nowhere to retreat to. We are bordered by the sea to the north and the west. To the south is the Sands. It's a brutal, unforgiving land. I have traveled it. Water is scarce unless you find an oasis. No. We must move east toward Donovan."

Jakob sighed. "We are pleased you came to our aid, Tressa, though we had hoped for a legion from the Black. Not this group of warriors. Though the Vulture's Tower is a place of great magic, our prophecies do not tell of their involvement. What we need are more dragons." Jakob paused, looking around the room and making eye contact with his people. "Where are they?"

Anger boiled in Tressa's stomach. Indeed. Where were the Black? The bravest of all dragons with the largest group of fighters. "They are not coming," she said.

"Why is that?" Jakob asked.

Tressa's nails dug into the wooden table. "They have chosen not to fight." She wanted to lambast her great-grandmother and her dragon lover, who was now human. She wanted to tell the Green that the Black were spineless. Yet, she held back. Perhaps it was loyalty. Perhaps it was to avoid her own embarrassment over her kin’s decision to hide underground. "The warriors I've brought will fight for us. You don't need to question that."

Jakob's gaze slid over to Krom. "And where have you been, vulture? You were nowhere to be seen when we battled with the Red on the Isle of Repose. You did not rescue the villagers in Hutton's Bridge when they were trapped, nor did you help us when we were held here against our will. Why now? Is it because you see the end coming and you want to pick on our bones after we die?"

The room fell completely silent. Not even a breath could be heard. Krom crossed his arms over his chest. "What you say, it's true. We did not help. The Vulture's Tower was created to help the Dragonlands in their hour of greatest need. We have been suspended in time for nearly five hundred years. To us, it has felt like mere days. We are still at the peak of our physical prowess. We remember what the Dragonlands was like when it was settled long ago. Though it is history to you, to us it was just yesterday." Krom leaned over. "You have not seen the things we have seen. We fought in the ancient wars. We were there when the dragon kingdoms were created. We understand things you do not. When I say we should move farther inland, what I mean is this: the Vulture's Army is headed inland. Will you fight with us?"

Tressa held back a smirk. Krom had said everything she wanted to say, but with more conviction and the heavy weight of experience. Now all she had to do was wait for the Green to agree. Why wouldn't they? They were all fighting for the same thing: freedom. Surely they wanted their families to come back to the Dragonlands, free to live their lives without fear.

"No," Jakob said. "We remain here."

Tressa's jaw dropped. "Why would you do that? We stand a better chance of defeating Donovan if we move inland. Here, we are trapped!"

Blythe placed a hand on Jakob's clenched fists. "We are waiting to hear back from our scouts. We need to know if our people made it safely across the sea."

"Then leave a few back here to receive the message," Tressa said. "I don't see a problem with that, do you, Krom?"

He shook his head. "Of course not. I understand completely."

"No," Jakob said, fuming. "It is not that simple."

"Jakob," Blythe said under her breath, but it was still loud enough for everyone to hear.

"It is time they know the truth," Jakob said. He sat up straight. "As soon as we have word that our people are safe, we plan to fly across and join them."

Tressa gasped. "Then you're just as cowardly as the Black! You're refusing to fight to save our land."

"It isn't cowardice." Jakob stood so quickly his chair clattered to the floor. "We don't want to die. Do you? There is nothing more honorable than saving your people. Who cares where we live, as long as we survive? Let this Donovan have the Dragonlands. We can find peace elsewhere."

Tears stung the corner of Tressa's eyes. Instead of answering, she stormed out of the inn, leaving the others in silence.

Tressa paced in the alley behind the inn. Why was everyone filled with so much apprehension? Yes, it was true, people might die. Fleeing would save their hides. But for how long and at what cost? Who was to say Donovan wouldn’t just follow them anyway?

"Tressa?" Fi crept up, resting a hand on Tressa's shoulder.

Tressa turned. Her friend smiled, and Tressa made a poor attempt at smiling back. "They must think I have no self-control."

"They're just scared. They aren't brave like you and me," Fi said.

"Or like me," Connor said, rounding the corner. "I'm with you, Tressa. I want to fight. Krom is in there, right now, dressing down the others."

"I'm sorry I stormed out like a child." Tressa could feel a blush creeping up her cheeks. She had expected the Green to fight. It hadn't occurred to her they might only want to defend their land until they could escape. Their refusal was another blow. It wasn't as painful as Granna and Mestifito turning their backs on her, but it still stung.

"No. They should be ashamed of themselves," Fi said. "Just as my people should. We will fight."

"You said we can't win," Tressa said with a sigh. "Donovan has too many warriors."

Fi shrugged. "It was fear speaking. As long as we live, there is a chance of victory. I'd rather try than hide the rest of my life. Donovan could just as easily follow the Green across the sea. There is nothing to stop him."

"We won't be safe until Donovan is dead," Tressa agreed. "We will march on without support from the dragons, then."

Connor cleared his throat. "I'm a dragon, remember? And I'm sure Bastian will join us. So, that's two."

Fi's mouth drooped. "There should be four. One Blue, one Green, and two Blacks. Instead, you have me, without my dragon, completely useless."

"You're not useless at all," Tressa insisted. "Without you, we wouldn't know where Donovan has been hiding. Now we can go to him, instead of waiting for him to come to us. We'll have the advantage, which could make all of the difference."

"I suppose... but when it comes to fighting, I'm useless." Fi tossed her arms in the air. "If I had my dragon, I could roast Donovan's arse before he could even draw a sword."

"Don't focus on what you don't have. Focus on what you do have," Connor said. "I let my anger at my memory loss get in the way of forming new memories with my wife and children. Now they are gone, and I have no guarantee I'll ever see them again. I long for more memories, not just for my comfort, but for theirs if I die." Connor wrapped an arm around Fi's shoulder. "I know it's hard, but you have to look forward, not backward."

"We all do," Tressa said. She still hadn't gotten over losing her dragon. Every day she wanted it back. She wanted to fly among the clouds again, like her ghost dragon friends. When she was in the Charred Barrens, she found herself lying on the ground with her arms out to the side, staring at the sky, and pretending she, too, was soaring through the air. It was a desire she feared would never leave.

Tressa dried the lingering tears with her sleeve. "I should go back in there."

"We're with you," Connor said.

Tressa straightened, then led the way around the inn to the front door. When she threw the door open and walked in, Jakob was leaning over the table, fire in his eyes, in the midst of a heated argument with Krom. "Stop," Tressa said.

The two men halted their argument, their eyes trained on Tressa.

"I am fighting. If the Green wants to stay in the Meadowlands, then that is their choice," she said.

"But—" Krom started.

Tressa held up a hand. "We will not force anyone to fight with us." She took in the others at the long table, who'd so far remained silent. "If you choose to stay here, that is up to you. If you want to fight, you are welcome to come with us. We will leave for the east in the morning."

Krom bowed. "As you wish. The warriors of the Vulture's Tower will travel with you."

Tressa waited a few breaths for others to speak up. Instead of a few brave voices, she was answered by downcast eyes and nervous coughs. "Fine. Thank you for your hospitality here in the Meadowlands. I wish all of you the very best."

Tressa spun on one heel and exited the inn. This time, the representatives from the Vulture's Tower followed her, Connor, and Fi out.

"Tressa," Krom said, quickly catching up to her and walking in stride. "I don't know if we can win without dragon reinforcements."

"If you don't want to come with us..." Tressa didn't even want to finish the sentence.

"It isn't that," Krom said. "I only wanted you to be aware of the uphill battle we face."

Tressa burst into uncomfortable laughter. "I expect to die out there. I just hope I can take Donovan with me. I have no children, no husband, no one who needs me to live. I'm walking into this battle fully aware of what I have to lose. However, if I can gain safety for those I love and for the next generation, then my sacrifice will be well worth it."

An uncomfortable silence followed. Tressa left her companions standing in place and made her way back to Bastian's cottage. She stormed through the door without knocking, slamming it shut behind her.

Bastian was standing in the middle of the room, stark naked, a pair of pants in his hand. "Tressa!"

She strode across the room, laid her hands on his chest, and pressed her lips onto his. Bastian didn't return the kiss.

Tressa broke it off, breathless. "I'm sorry." She looked down at Bastian's naked body, aware that though he hadn't returned the kiss, he'd enjoyed it.

"We're leaving tomorrow to try to surprise Donovan's army. Will you come with us?" She backed away a few steps, giving him his space.

"Um, yeah, of course," Bastian stammered. "If you want me there."

Tressa, pumped with adrenaline from the confrontation with the Green, rolled her eyes. "Of course I want you there. That's why I asked. Don't do that, Bastian."

"Do what?" he asked.

"This!" Tressa threw her hands in the air. "This tension between us is ridiculous. We used to be close. Closer than I've ever been with anyone. We shouldn't be reduced to this awkward behavior."

"You're right." Bastian let go of his pants. They dropped to the floor, landing in a messy heap. "Then let's not be. Let's have exactly what both of us want, but have been too afraid to ask for." He held a hand out to Tressa.

Suddenly, Tressa felt unsure. She'd said those things out of anger and frustration. The last time she and Bastian had been together it was because they'd been remembering their past. Now, it would only be because she was afraid of dying.

"It's okay," Bastian said. "It doesn't matter why. It only matters to me that it's with you."

Tressa took a deep breath, then let it out, allowing all of the boundaries she'd established to crumble. "I've missed you. So much." She placed her trembling hand in his.

Bastian walked backward, guiding her toward his bed. Before he could sit, Tressa pushed him down. He landed on his back with a grunt, his head on the pillow. Tressa yanked her shirt over her head, then quickly pulled off her pants. She sat next to Bastian. "You only care as long as it's with me?"

Bastian reached up, cupping her cheeks. "It's always been you, Tressa. Always. You know that."

She did know. That's what made it so hard. She'd willingly given Bastian up for Jarrett, a man who was completely lost to her. She didn't return to Bastian because of pity, or because she had no options.

"Tressa, I love you." Bastian sat up, wrapped his arms around her waist, and kissed her with a passion she'd never felt from him before.

And that's when she knew it, too. Despite any choice she'd ever make, she would love Bastian first, and always. Tressa straddled Bastian's waist, losing herself for the last time before she'd have to face her greatest enemy.