Desolation (Dragonlands Book 4) (17 page)

Connor spent the next several days in a funk. Nothing could raise his spirits—not playing games with his boys or dragons, not relaxing in the village hall, not his nights with Hazel. He didn't like waiting in Hutton's Bridge for something to happen, but he didn't know where to go or what to do to solve any of their problems.

He had so many worries and regrets. It was hard to deal with all of them while putting on a positive face for his wife and children. Hazel knew how he was feeling, though she didn't press, letting him decide when he was ready to discuss it. The boys and the dragons didn't seem to notice.

Even Bastian had held his tongue. He'd spoken with Pia about their baby but made no claim on her, despite her best attempts to seduce him. She didn't keep it private, like a more proper woman might. Instead she took every chance to rub against Bastian, pretending it was an accident, or asking him for help with the simplest of tasks followed by pouting and mewling when he ignored her. Hazel was irritated by it, she'd told Connor as much, but she didn't say anything because she wanted to keep the peace. Connor also had to gently remind her that Pia was the only one who could scare off the shadow. They needed her, whether they liked it or not.

Connor wandered the meadow where the beehives once hung, hoping for something to spark a memory.

When the Red had lured the villagers of Hutton's Bridge away to Malum, they also took the bees. At least Connor knew why now. They had been hoping to make honey to keep Decarian at bay, but they'd failed, and now there was no honey left to stop him from entering the Dragonlands. Connor felt if there was some way he could remember, maybe he could figure out why the honey was different now. He sat on the grass, running his fingers over the blades.

"What am I missing?" he said aloud.

A circle of flowers sat in front of him. Their red and yellow petals reached toward the sky, punctuated by a purple stamen rising from the center. They were the soter flowers Hazel said he used to bring her. He picked three for Hazel, grasping the stems tightly in hand.

Connor walked toward the village hall, trying to take in Hutton's Bridge with fresh eyes. The cottages stood in little rows. Slight differences in architecture or stone kept them from looking exactly the same. Connor's stood out, only because Hazel had shown it to him. Even his own private home did nothing to stir his memories.

He pushed open the door to the village hall and was greeted by the smell of roasted pheasant. Despite getting their freedom from the fog, many of the small animals had stayed close. The villagers wouldn't have to worry about finding meat for a long time, and Connor hoped they'd be free before then.

"Poppa!" Curt ran up and threw his arms around Connor's legs.

He reached down, ruffling his son's hair. "Where's your mother?"

"There," he pointed and toddled off, his thumb stuck in his mouth.

Connor spied Hazel across the room, deep in conversation with Pia. For once, it didn't look like they were having tense words. "For you," he said, bowing and offering the flowers to Hazel.

She smiled, brightening up the room. "Thank you, good sir."

Connor pulled Hazel into his arms and kissed her.

"These are beautiful," Pia said. "Where did you find them?" Her fingertip brushed a petal.

"In the meadow where we kept the bees," Connor said, his arm still solidly around Hazel's waist.

"I've never seen their like," Pia said. “I've traveled a lot, you know. When I was young, I sailed on a ship around the coast of the Dragonlands. I've been with many a man and woman, and been given many flowers, but never like this. They are truly unique. A good choice for your lady love."

Hazel rested them under her nose. "I love them, Connor. Did you smell them?"

He shook his head. He hadn't even thought to. Hazel brought one to his face. Connor closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He staggered backward, his hand on his chest.

"Connor!" Hazel yelped.

He fell to his knees, his heart pounding erratically. His mind swam with images. Connor leaned forward, hoping to stave off the dizziness quickly overtaking him.

"Connor! Talk to me. Are you okay?" Hazel yelled. She rested a hand on his back. "Pia, get the children out of here."

He heard the shuffling of small feet, but couldn't process where they were going. All Connor could do was bend over and rest his forehead on the floor. The pounding echoed in his head, reverberated through his body, and jolted all of his muscles. He collapsed onto the wooden floor, his hands clutching his head.

"Connor!" It was Bastian this time. His rough hands shook Connor's shoulders. "Get the healers!"

Hazel lay on the floor next to him, tears spilling from her cheeks. "Please. Tell us if you're okay. Talk to me."

Connor shut them out, focusing on the images flashing in his mind.

He saw himself running in the meadow with Tressa and Bastian, children playing tag. He saw Hazel pull a ribbon from a basket, the match to the ribbon Connor held. He saw a baby being born; a tearful Hazel holding their firstborn son. He saw a swarm of bees flying around a honeycomb. He saw Sophia's dead body. He saw the fog. He held Tressa's hand and stepped in. He felt them being separated. The kilrothgi tore at his body, extracting pain like Connor had never experienced. He passed out and awoke naked in Stacia's presence.

Connor took a few deep breaths and calmed his shaking body. He sat up slowly, rubbing his temples.

"What was that? You were never allergic to the flowers before," Hazel said. She wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"No, I'm not allergic," Connor said.

"Don't scare me like that," Hazel said.

Bastian lightly punched Connor's arm. "What happened?"

Connor looked at the flowers, still clutched in Hazel's quavering hand. He smiled. "I remember. Everything. I remember it all."

"What?" Hazel asked. It came out as a whisper.

"Really?" Bastian asked. "That was your memory coming back?"

"Yes," Connor said. "And there's something else. I think I know why the honey of Hutton's Bridge is so special."

Tressa landed on the rocky ground. She couldn't hear Donovan’s thoughts like she did with Fi’s, still she could hear his words as he shouted directions from her back. Tressa sat down, letting the four of them dismount.

She closed her eyes, waiting for her human form to take over, but nothing happened. Tressa gritted her teeth, urging her body to change. Still nothing. Annoyed, Tressa kept silent. She wouldn’t tell anyone she couldn’t change. Not yet. Surely it would come to her, just as it had in the past.

"We can't take her into the village," Hildie said.

Now that the wind wasn't whistling in her ears, she could hear and understand them just fine.

"It's true," Onva said. "They will kill her. It's not safe here. If anyone sees her, they will attack."

"Then we part here," Donovan said. "Pass on my remorse over the deaths of Accore, Kadrin, and Fregar. Tell your leaders I will be back. This is not the end; it is only the beginning. Soon we will prepare for battle."

Hildie's back stiffened. She saluted Donovan. Onva only grunted. Donovan bowed to her.

"We will await your return, Donovan," Hildie said. She glared at Tressa. "If you ruin anything else, we will hunt you down, gut you from gullet to throat, and roast your wings over a fire."

Fi laid a hand on Tressa's neck. "She won't. She didn't kill the others. The shades did. If I can measure the three of them based on you, they were honorable, indeed."

Hildie’s face softened. "You speak the truth, despite not having even met our comrades. We did this to save you, and because Donovan assured us it was the right path to take in our journey toward living in the open again. If what he says turns out to be true, you will be the great turning point in our history."

"Then why not give Tressa some of the credit, too?" Fi asked.

Onva spat at Tressa's taloned feet. "Because of what I see before me. The dragon offends."

"She's not always a dragon," Fi said. "Didn’t Donovan tell you I am a dragon, too? That I was born a dragon and hope to die as one? I agreed to let him leech out my blood for the sake of people I hadn't met yet. You. Extend us the same courtesy we've given you."

Hildie reached out, placing a hand on Fi's arm. "You will be well?"

Tressa cocked her head as Hildie caressed Fi's arm. If she’d been in human form, Tressa would have mentioned Fi's wife, Sarah, to get Hildie away from her friend.

Fi stepped backward, and Hildie's hand dropped. "I'll be fine. Tressa is my best friend. My sister of the heart. I belong with her."

"Then go," Hildie said. "I hope we'll meet again, soon."

"We will," Donovan said. "I can assure of you that. What we are about to do will change the course of both the Dragonlands and Desolation forever."

Tressa watched the two women walk away, then disappear into their invisible village. A shout brought their attention back to the place Hildie and Onva had disappeared. Hildie ran back into the open, three flowers clutched in a hand.

"These are for you," Hildie said, shoving the yellow and red petals at Fi.

"Oh! They're beautiful! But you didn't have to…" Fi stood awkwardly, her feet shuffling.

"I know I didn't. I just wanted to." Hildie quickly kissed Fi on the cheek, then ran off toward her village, disappearing again.

Tressa felt a tug at her heart, seeing the flowers. They had a meadow of blossoms just like that in Hutton's Bridge.

Donovan and Fi climbed on her back.

Donovan says you need to fly due east,
Fi thought to Tressa, their link still intact.
Once you get to the Wardack River, cross it and head north. Back the way we were headed before I was captured.

Are you okay?
Tressa asked.
Because you still haven't told us anything that happened to you there.

If you're worried I've been taken over like Jarrett, you can stop that right now,
Fi said.
I'm fine. The shades were holding me because they knew I was different. They wanted to know why before they killed me. I was no more than a curiosity to them. I imagine if I'd had my dragon inside me, I would be dead now. Instead, they sensed some kind of hole inside me. As beings of no shape, they were intrigued by the emptiness I carried. There is more, things I heard in their minds when they were probing me. I haven’t made sense of it all, yet. As soon as I do, we will need to talk more.

Although Tressa wanted to believe her friend, she'd been tricked by Jarrett into believing he was better when he'd been planning to kill her and her friends all along. He'd succeeded in killing Bastian, as well as countless dragons of every color. Tressa hadn't given up on healing him, but she wasn't sure she could ever trust him again. And now Fi had to be watched.

Tressa glided in the air, exhausted mentally and physically. So much weighed on her. She was finally going to face the mysterious reason Donovan had brought them to Desolation.

Tressa flew for the better part of a day. The sun fell in the west, hiding behind the Barrier Mountains separating her from her homeland. A twinge of homesickness in her heart spoke the truth. She wanted to do whatever it was Donovan required of her here, then get back to the Dragonlands as soon as possible. Death and hatred were all she'd found in Desolation. There were no solutions here, only more problems waiting to surface.

Donovan says to drop down now,
Fi said.

Tressa did as she was asked, gliding to the ground. Fi and Donovan dismounted.

Donovan ambled over to her snout, placing his hand on her black scales. "From here you need to go on alone." He pointed north to the grouping of stones she'd seen before Fi had been taken. It felt like ages ago. "Go there. To those statues."

She wanted to ask him what was expected of her. What was she supposed to do with a bunch of old statues?

"Trust me." He patted her again. "Go."

"He won't let me out of his sight this time, right, Donovan?" Fi asked. "I'll be okay."

Tressa nodded, her long neck moving up and down. She wanted to hug Fi, to get that final burst of reassurance before she left them. This time she couldn't do more than nuzzle her friend carefully. Fi kissed the tip of her nose.

Tressa leapt into the air. She kept her eyes trained on the statues, sure that if she looked down at Fi and Donovan she might lose her nerve. Perhaps it was the worry that if the statues didn't help in some way, she would return to the Dragonlands in defeat, just in time to watch Decarian unleash his minions on her world.

Donovan and Fi appeared as bugs, while the statues grew ever closer. Soon Tressa hovered above them, then dropped into the middle of the circle they formed onto a patch of land surrounded by a moat. Hundreds of stone people stood on pedestals, their eyes blank and their bodies frozen in time. If she had been in human form, she would have stood below them, but as a dragon she could look every statue in the eye. She walked the circle, careful not to hit any of them with her tail. The place felt holy somehow, and she had no desire to desecrate the space.

There were no markers. No names. No indication of why these people stood here as silent as guards at a gate.

A low buzz echoed in her head, growing louder with every passing moment until a chorus sang in her head. Hundreds of voices spoke in unison, saying the same two words over and over again.

She whipped her head around, looking for the source. The statues stood deathly quiet, their lips firm, their bodies frozen.

The chant grew louder and more insistent until Tressa could no longer deny the two words she was hearing: Hutton's Bridge.