Dragon’s Secret: Red Planet Dragons of Tajss Book Fourteen

by Martin, Miranda

  She is mine. There is no other for me. There is no turning back.

  Her eyes are full of love, full of a softness that is all for me. She reaches up, slides her fingers into my hair, and pulls me down, sealing my words with a kiss that confirms her agreement.

  My treasure. I will forever keep her safe. She is my happiness.

  Epilogue

  Khal

  Flaring my wings to ride the air and lighten my weight on the sand, I crest the next rise and scour the desert around me.

  Nothing.

  Only more sun baked red sand.

  Clenching my jaw, I continue on, my eyes searching with a growing desperation that I keep a tight reign on. It is a struggle to contain my concern in the face of my still fruitless search.

  Where is Archion?

  This is not at all like my brother. Not at all like the responsible mentor and leader. The emotions I am suppressing are pushing me to imagine the worst. To dwell upon a scenario I do not want to. But I refuse to do so, refuse to let the negative thoughts take hold.

  It is not possible that my brother could have met a terrible fate.

  It simply is not.

  For decades, Archion has been at the very top of the warrior line on this side of Tajss. An inarguable, objective fact. He has a risen so high among the ranks that he reports directly to the Council and only to the Council.

  Nobody else.

  So the fact that Tashak finally decided to send me to look for him is...troublesome. The seers aren’t known for their patience and Archion is already unforgivable late at this point.

  If he returns without a limb or maimed in some other horrifying way, he will be loosely forgiven. But he will never be seen in the revered fashion that he has enjoyed for so long.

  Harsh, yes. But it is a fact that cannot be escaped.

  It is a bad enough end.

  But if he has...

  I shake my head, continuing my forward momentum, my eyes scanning the area around me while I think.

  There is no scenario where he would betray the Order. After a lifetime spent protecting and upholding our values and objectives, I cannot see it coming to pass.

  Archion is above reproach. I refuse to even entertain the notion. Clenching my jaw, I cut off my thoughts ruthlessly. I am not on any productive line. Better I simply focus on the mind numbing task of searching the desert.

  The Tajss suns beat down upon me as I cover the sand as quickly as possible, the scorching light a familiar burn against the skin left exposed by my robes.

  I continue on the grid search I planned before I left, the painstaking method chosen so I do not miss anything by accident. Yes, it takes more time. But it is better to be thorough the first time rather than having to retrace my footsteps.

  Not that it has mattered much thus far. As carefully as I look, I do not see tracks or any sign that the Order marked rifts have been used. No sign that anything larger than a small animal has been anywhere near here.

  I ignore the pit that attempts to settle in my stomach, squashing it before it can grow to something larger and heavier. Archion is still here. My brother will return. There is no other option.

  I frown feeling an odd sensation in my midsection directly after I mentally proclaim this. Like a tugging in my gut.

  An answer?

  I turn in the direction of the gentle but insistent pull, the feeling so distinct I know I am on the correct course.

  “He is alive.”

  I whisper the words out loud, willing them to be so. Needing them to be so. I follow that feeling, holding onto it as tightly as I can. It is the only hope that I have seen for days upon days.

  I need it. Need the fuel it provides. I stay out for most of the rest of the day, a renewed sense of purpose combining with a surge of energy, the two aiding me in traveling fast, keeping my eyes sharp.

  But it does not matter. I still do not encounter anyone. Until, with a sinking stomach, I know it is too late to stay out much longer. Without the bright suns out during the day to guide me, I may very well miss tracks or other signs even if I come upon them. That would only set me back in my search, lead me astray.

  So I force myself to turn back even though I want to keep searching, keep looking until my body gives way. But I know I cannot make decisions based on emotions alone.

  That will not serve Archion well. Or anyone for that matter.

  So I settle a neutral look upon my face, a trained expression of duty designed to hide my emotions, and report my findings to Tashak. It does not take long. After all, I have found nothing.

  But Tashak’s reaction shocks me.

  Raising his hand, he rests it upon my shoulder in a consoling fashion. His jewel toned robes rustle with the movement, his staff still held firmly in his other hand.

  I look down at that strong hand, breathing in deeply. I swallow passed the lump in my throat, refusing to entertain the thought that I am certain the seer is building up towards.

  “I know he is still alive,” I say, preempting what I know he planned to voice. I cannot allow him to say the words. I place my hand over my midsection. “I feel it here.”

  I try to convey the feeling, the surety, in an effort to convince him. But when the seer nods, I can see that he may just to be humoring me.

  “Only time will tell us what has happened to Archion,” he replies after a brief pause. “We will wait. And see.”

  The words are neutral. But the tone is not.

  A slight frown touches his face, a hint of danger or perhaps trepidation lacing the statement and his expression. It is clear that he would rather the former be true than the latter.

  But the latter is not possible. My brother is alive. I feel it inside myself, a knowing that will not be denied.

  And I refuse to believe otherwise.

  No matter what any seer tells me.

  * * *

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  About the Author

  USA Today Bestselling Author of fantasy and scifi romance, Miranda Martin's books feature larger than life heroes with out-of-this-world anatomy and smart heroines destined to save the world. As a little girl she would sneak off with her nose in a book, dreaming of magical realms. Today she brings those fantasies to life and adores every fan who chooses to live in them for a while.

  She was born and raised in southern Virginia, but as a veteran she's traveled to places like Korea, Hawaii and good 'ole Texas. Now she's settled in Kansas, the heart of America, with her husband and daughters. Her favorite animals are dragons, unicorns and cats. If she's not writing, you can still find her tucked away somewhere with a warm blanket and her nose in a book.

  Get in touch!

  mirandamartinromance.com

  miranda@mirandamartinromance.com