Wynter Reign

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Wynter Reign Page 17

by Emmy R Bennett


  “How will I know? I mean, what time?”

  “You can still read thoughts, correct?” She looks down at my feet, seeing I do not wear valiancium cuffs any longer. “I’m sure your senses have heightened since being free.”

  “Yes, which reminds me, I almost forgot to release the binding on your ankle.” I pull the key from my pocket.

  “Your mind must be flooded with other people’s brainwaves, now that you’re liberated.”

  The cuff unlocks. “It took some getting used to, that’s for sure.” I stand, tucking the key back in my jeans. “Try to keep your abilities in check. When I was freed from the shackles a few days ago, I became overwhelmed, and the first few hours gave me some fatigue.”

  “Noted,” she says, bending down to rub her ankle. “Moyer is immediately going to notice it off, if I don’t keep it covered.” Her pant leg appears to hide it slightly.

  “Then we should do this as fast as we can. I’ll stay behind to help in here, hiding, watching, while you bring the innocents through this gated door.”

  Nodding, she pauses, folding her arms and leaning against the ladder that hangs on the bookshelf behind her. “There are not many left you know—Storms that is. Daniel is gone to the side of evil. Only Chad and Derek remain.”

  “Be careful of Daniel, you know he can surprise you, when you least expect it.”

  “I know.” She gives me this look of sadness and happiness combined, reaching out to touch my cheek. “We are finally getting the chance of freedom. I’ve been looking forward to this for decades,” she says. “Do you really think Wynter can pull this off?”

  “A hundred percent, Mom. She’s creative. We travelled through Ladorielle and got into some pretty tight spots, but she came out on top. It’s the trials I’m worried about. Oh, and I almost forgot…” I pull from my waist the dagger that the elementals enchanted. “Arryn gave this to me. Said it was mine.”

  “I have seen a dagger similar to this one before. This gem nestled in the hilt of swirling blue and green is azurite.” She hesitates a moment. “I’ve held off telling you something that you were not ready to hear, but now I think it’s time.”

  I take a stepstool and sit. “Have you been holding secrets from me?”

  Blair smiles. “A small one, perhaps. I didn’t understand it’s importance until this moment, so it bears attention before we prepare for this rescue.”

  The anticipation is killing me, and I can’t read her thoughts. My mother is really good at hiding her mind—she always has been. The entire time I lived under this evil roof, I was never able to penetrate her psyche.

  “When I was carrying you and your brother, I had a dream. I never quite understood why it’s stayed with me all these years. I was visited by four Elementals. They said I was carrying two very important babies.” She huffs. “I remember laughing in my dream at the irony because Moyer had forced this pregnancy, using me as her lab rat. My mother, Drena, disappeared and was rumored dead. So, Moyer used my body as her next host, to create the monsters she so desired to have roaming around her compound, now.”

  “Are you saying there are more siblings?” I mean, I knew Moyer used Drena, the grandmother I’ve never met, and I knew Casey was my older brother, but I had no idea there were more than us. “You never told me this side of the story before. I mean, I suspected—Rory, we had our suspicions of being cousins—but nobody ever came right out and said it.”

  “Yes, Drena was my mother, and there are many more children I have had that Moyer has taken from me—sold like property, Cory. Too many to count.” A tear falls from her cheek. She huffs again, in annoyance. “I’m a vampire, not bitten, but born, much more valuable, and therefore operate like any other producing species, but with an added bonus of gifts and abilities.”

  “Then how did my grandmother, Drena, become so lucky? She was bitten.”

  “Moyer somehow found a way to use her human DNA and another ingredient.”

  “Waxlily?”

  Blair turns her head and stares, as though a light bulb has gone on above her head. “Cory, I had never thought of that before. You don’t suppose she has figured out that the Waxlily is the key to magic, do you?”

  “I wouldn’t put it past her.”

  “At any rate, you are here now, and we must do our duty to accomplish this final escape.”

  “Do you know who my father is?”

  She smiles and gives a nod

  I’m stunned. “Who?”

  She doesn't answer and instead, places two fingers on her lips, kisses them, and transfers the kiss to my cheek.

  “Mom, be careful.”

  “You, too, son.”

  She turns the knob of the gate leading out the library and begins to slip through, without anyone noticing from the other side.

  Chapter 23

  Wynter Storm

  Present Day:

  Ashengale Castle on Dragonscale Island

  As we approach the landing, Dad steps first with grace and strength, then Dragonscale, followed by me. Geneviève slides down Dad’s wing, landing feet first, as though she’s done this thousands of times. I see my aunt Fran standing next to another dragon I hadn’t seen before, and I wonder where Garrick is. This dragon is green in color with a slight reddish-brown hue, and his coat shines gold.

  “Good to see you again, Jeff,” the dragon says.

  Dad bows. “And you, too. I see you have found Fran.”

  “Yes, not the way I expected her to be, of course.”

  “Boys, now is not the time to discuss this,” my aunt says, looking over my way. “She’s still in her dragon form and can hear all of you.”

  My aunt nods toward me, saying, “Go on, Wynter, you can change back to your original form.”

  I do as she instructs, and notice that once I’m back to myself again, I no longer have the magical ability to see past, present, and future. It’s like waking from a dream and slowly forgetting everything, except for one difference—I remember my past. All of it. The truth of who I really am, as well as the truth of what has happened in my last eighteen years. The memory stamp that prevented me to remember my past is gone, and the real memories remain.

  This strange green dragon before us follows suit. I squint. “So,” I say, “Garrick is a dragon shifter as well?” My mind floats back to the large, lizard-like eye that peeped through the hole in the entrance to the gate of Ashengale when my aunt and I first arrived.

  “We all are,” Aunt Fran answers. “I was, before I was killed. Your mother, too.” She gives a brief glance towards Dragonscale.

  “A Light Witch, a dragon, and a necromancer? How complicated can this get?” I ask. I turn to my teacher, Dragonscale.

  Dad changes back to his human form. I see he, too, has some hesitation, stealing glances as he shifts. It’s as though Dragonscale’s trusted clan awaits in anticipation for an answer.

  Dragonscale remains a dragon. “I suppose you all are right,” he says, as though each of them can hear his thoughts except for me, so he speaks aloud. “Let’s take a break for a while, shall we, my student?”

  He, too, begins to shift into human form. For the first time, I have the privilege to see him not as a dragon, but a man. During my entire training, he hasn’t revealed his human form until now. He has a familiar face, one that I know—I’ve seen him before. He’s tall in stature, with grey hair—or silver, I can’t tell. His eyes glow blue, like Dad’s and Cory’s do when they are either happy or angry.

  “Hello Wynter,” he begins, “I don’t think you have ever been introduced to me like this.” He reaches out to shake my hand. “I’m Ian Storm.”

  It takes me a minute to allow the shock to wear off. My mind skims back to the dream Isalora showed me when I was still at the manor. How a man named Ian stayed behind to fight the wraith—Sarmira—while his family escaped. “The shield is weakening. You must all go now,” he said.

  “I assumed you were dead. I’ve so many questions. During my training, you never re
vealed who you truly were. Why now?”

  “Everything has its time and purpose.” He smiles. He gestures toward the French doors, leading to the grand foyer. “I have a meeting, my granddaughter. I know you have many inquiries, but I must attend to business first. We will meet this evening and go over groundwork of our next strategy…and give you the closure you need.” I watch him walk away, with his cloak gliding behind, and leather boots clapping along the marble floors, as he disappears through the doors.

  “Well,” Dad begins, “you heard him. Let’s all take a break and meet back here later. Now might be our chance to reacquaint Wynter to the city.”

  “What about lunch at Scale Café & Grill?” Fran suggests.

  “I can’t,” Garrick says. “I have guard duty.” He kisses Fran’s cheek, changes back to a dragon, and flies off.

  “What was that all about, Aunt Fran?” I ask.

  Dad smiles wide, as though he can hear both our thoughts, and waits to hear her excuse.

  “What was what? You mean the peck on the cheek?” She turns to walk towards the same French doors that Ian passed through, leading to the foyer. “Gracious, child, you act like you’ve never seen someone give a warm goodbye before.”

  Dad and Geneviève look at each other and back to my aunt. They keep quiet and allow Aunt Fran to stew.

  “I can’t go, either,” Geneviève begins, “I have a matter to attend to. Hopefully, I can finish before this evening’s meal.”

  Fran stops walking and turns around. “Oh Gen, surely you’re not going to leave me alone with these two, are you?”

  “I’m sorry, Fran. This can’t wait,” Geneviève says. “Promise, I’ll be back soon.” She pulls a rock from her palm and it glows, forming a bubble around her, and she disappears.

  Dad wraps an arm across my back and grabs one shoulder, saying with great enthusiasm, “It’s just the three of us again…like old times.”

  I cower slightly from his bear hug. “Do we walk or fly?”

  Dad laughs and Fran snickers. “Let’s walk, shall we?” he says.

  Dad hooks his arm around mine. “I look forward to showing you around, reintroducing you to the places you have seen before, but may have forgotten.”

  As we walk through the courtyard to the outer gates of the castle, I ask, “Why have horses to ride or dragongryphs, if we can fly ourselves?”

  “Well, that is a very valid question, I suppose,” he says with a smirk. “We shifters do not get our ‘wings’ until the age of eighteen. And, of course, the land of Ladorielle is under such threat from being overtaken that if a shifter were to be found, they would risk capture. As you witnessed a few days ago”—he looks over at Fran— “we are vulnerable in our human form. Here on Ashengale, we’re safe.”

  “Do you think that’s why the giant killed Aunt Fran, because he knew?”

  “He was a tracker,” my aunt says. “He could sense me. Not all the giants have the talent he had.”

  We walk up to the outer gates, and I watch as they open without having to ask a guard. “So, are you saying only trackers can sense a dragon shifter?”

  “Something like that, yes,” she answers. “You see, not all races have the same instincts, except for maybe the Iknes Shaw. They have a built-in tracking system they are born with.”

  “And so the giants don’t?”

  “Giants are not born with the talent, like most on Ladorielle, they too, must reach a certain age to receive their gifts. What I mean to say is the giant that killed me had an innate tracking sense and knew I was a shifter. Until we win the war, shifters are not safe. Only here, on the island, can we spread our wings. A shifter can walk the planet undetected by anyone and surprise foes with their strength, but they can also be surprised with one hit from a tracker. They can see us, but we can’t see them.”

  “So, you’re saying a shifter in a human form walking through Ladorielle territories is risky?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re a dragon, Aunt Fran.” Confused by her remarks, because dragons are supposed to be powerful creatures, I ask, “Again why not fly? They’re more difficult to kill.”

  “You’re indeed right. Dark dragons scout the lands like we do here on Dragonscale Island, and once out from the protection of this land, dragons can sense other dragons, differentiating ally from foe. I assure you, my dear, once you complete the task at hand and Sarmira is destroyed, we can then again perhaps plan for peace. Sarmira’s magic empowers her commanders, making them stronger than even some of us.”

  I dig deep in what she’s telling me and realize this must be why my great grandmother, Sara, placed a protection shield upon Storm Castle.

  “Tell me something, Aunt Fran…are you in what grandmother called a regenerated state? Is that why she asked for the whereabouts of your body?”

  Dad smiles and nods.

  I mull over the ideas that flint around in my brain. “Do other species have tracking abilities, too?

  “Some of them, yes,” she answers, “but unlike the Iknes Shaw who are born with the innate ability, all other species acquire it as a gift.”

  “You mean like me, and how I can see ghosts?”

  “Something like that, yes.”

  “But I can throw fire and water—make frozen dog popsicles.” I laugh at the memory. “I have the speed, sight, and hearing of a vampire.”

  “Those aren’t necessarily acquired skills at eighteen, you were born with magical gifts. The memory stamp had suppressed them,” Dad interjects. “But your Deagon side of the bloodline—the ability to shift, read minds, and all that Dragonscale has shown you—doesn’t mature until you turn eighteen. Your ascension and completing the trials will seal your control of all the abilities you have acquired.”

  “This must be why Dragonscale said I must remain in my human form during the trials? So, I can discern in both shifted states?”

  “Yes. While it is true the shifter from the dark side can sense you, so can the trackers. But you will learn to do the same.”

  “So, I’m not a vampire at all?”

  “No. Cory, Cole, and Blair? Yes. They were born that way, as you’re aware. Chad was bitten. I watched it happen. I couldn’t save him. To this day, I don’t know how I escaped. Something in me more powerful than myself released. The valiancium cuffs Moyer had chained to my ankles busted, and I shifted, right before the both of them at Storm River Manor. I didn’t care how it happened or why, but I did know by burning a vampire, it would execute any poisonous venom my brother endured. She’d turned him.”

  “Hang on a second…Moyer is a vampire, too? I thought she was a powerful necromancer witch?”

  “You didn’t think she would pass up having added powers, did you? Are you kidding me? Keen sense of hearing, speed, the mind control—my dear, she’s the queen mother of nytemires. The Shadow Walkers creator.”

  “I asked Cory once, and he said she was a witch.”

  “A very powerful one, yes, and then some,” Dad affirms.

  “So, what happened next? With Uncle Chad I mean?”

  “He begged me to put him out of his misery. So, I did what any dragon does best, burned my brother to ashes. Moyer was furious, but before I could get to her, she fled the basement and up the spiral stairs. Shifting back to my human form was second nature. Seeing Chad’s ashes on the ground changed me.”

  “How is Chad alive? I thought flames could not destroy a Deagon?”

  “You’re correct.” Dad walks to the stable that’s set outside the gates where a man is busy tending to some horses. He clears his throat, and the man looks up.

  “Lord Gottfried, my apologies I didn’t see you walk up, Sire.” The man bows.

  Dad nods. “Jeff seems to fit me better, Quinn, don’t you think?”

  “Yes, sir.” Quinn bows, again.

  “Quinn,” my dad continues, “would you ready a carriage for my daughter, sister in-law, and myself, please? We’re going into town.”

  “As I recall, the town isn’t
far. Why not walk?” I ask

  “Humor me, dear child, please.” He smiles at Quinn while he prepares our ride. Dad grabs my hand and pulls me to the ledge of a wall overlooking the valley below. “How much do you remember?” he asks.

  I’m distracted by Dad’s question. “All of it.”

  “Even the kidnapping?” He gives me a stern look. “I mean the first one, when you were around five.”

  “Yes.” I pause, remembering the not so pleasant experience. “I remember when Rory and I were playing along the river, too, a few days before falling from the rock, and I was almost swept away, but Namari came just in time to swoop me up before I was about to fall over the cliff of the waterfall. I’m not sure Rory remembers.” I turn to him. “But Dad, you’re avoiding my question. How is it that Chad is still alive?”

  “Sire, your carriage is ready,” Quinn interrupts.

  Annoyed I will not get my answer yet, we climb in the coach while a driver sits atop, waiting. “I thought we could enjoy the moment. We haven’t done something like this in years,” Dad says, as he sits opposite of my aunt and me.

  “Memory lane, is that it, Dad?”

  He smiles. “Why not?”

  “Shouldn’t you be helping me prepare for my trials?”

  “What do you think we’re doing?”

  “What? By riding in a horse and carriage? A sports car would have been nice.”

  He chuckles. “I’m sure you would like that, huh? Well, those vehicles are not allowed in this world. Too much pollution, besides, why have cars when you have magic?” he snaps his fingers, and there, appearing in his hand, a single rose. He hands it to me.

  Ignoring his comment, I say, “They do have electric cars. Why not do something like that here?”

  “And what, spoil the fun riding in something like this? Besides, here under Ashengale Mountain, we have the luxury of flying.”

  “Which goes back to my first argument, Dad. Why not shift? If we are safe from trackers, that is.”

  “Because, the truth of the matter is, you must resist the temptation to do so. During the trials, you must remain in your human form to make your transition complete.” He looks at Fran. “Too bad your mother couldn’t come up with a way to bind Wynter’s ability until her trials are done.”

 

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