by Nina Walker
Disappointed, I resolve to look for him again after work. He could use some love and there’s nothing I’d rather do than help him.
Something prickles along the back of my neck, a rush of grasping awareness. I freeze, listening intently, and the feeling only grows.
Someone is following me.
Not someone of the dead variety. I’m used to that. No, whoever this is, they are very much human and very much alive. I keep my head still but my eyes dart from side to side, taking in the alleyway, the red brick buildings on either side, searching for signs that I’m not alone. I will someone to come out of one of the back doors or to turn down the alley from Main Street, but nobody does. I fumble to get my phone out of my pocket and quicken my steps, gathering the nerve to look behind me.
There’s nobody there.
Nobody that I can see, anyway. But they are there. I know they are. I want to release the breath caged in my chest, want to relax. But I can’t. Because I can still feel them. The awareness is like a boa constrictor, wrapping itself around me, disabling my ability to reason. Glass scatters across the concrete behind me and I turn around.
This time, I see him.
He’s tall, over six feet, wearing dark jeans and a black windbreaker that’s zipped all the way to his chin. He’s sporting a gray ball cap that hoods his turned-down face. I can’t get a good enough look to gather more, to get an age or coloring or anything identifying. I’m stuck in static indecision, wondering what I should do next. Am I being paranoid? Something dark and ethereal flashes above him and I squint, unsure what kind of spirit I’m looking at.
He pauses for a second, and then runs toward me.
It happens so fast, the feelings and thoughts that jolt through my mind. Part of me wants to be logical, wants to assume the best, that this man isn’t a threat. But the bigger part of me knows all the way to my marrow, to my atoms, and the space in between, that he wants to hurt me. That he’s already chosen to hurt me. That if I don’t get away right now, he will succeed.
I whip around and run. Blood rushes through my ears, the soundtrack of panic.
Why did I come this way? How could I have been so naive? At night, after closing up the shop, I always walk along Main Street back to campus. It only takes a few extra minutes and from there I can follow the populated and well-lit walkway down the main part of campus back to my dormitory. There are always people around. I’m never alone. Never afraid.
I usually take this route during the day as well. And yet, today, of all days, I didn’t. What was I thinking? Girls have gone missing. There’s a killer on the loose! I never should have ventured off anywhere this remote, even if it is the middle of the afternoon. But it’s a good shortcut and after flirting with Landon earlier, my mind became a flighty moth of a thing and before long, I was running late. I hate being late. So I took the shortcut.
Maybe today the long way would have saved my life.
The thought drips in panic and I run even faster. But his soft footsteps are closer, his breath a steady cadence growing near. And he isn’t slowing down.
Neither am I.
It’s only a few more buildings until I’ll be out in the open. I’m almost there. I can get there. I have to. I keep fumbling with my phone but it’s a useless weight. I don’t have the ability to run for my life and use it at the same time. So I grip it, hang on for dear life, and push my body harder.
I’m frantic, praying for someone to see me.
“Help!” I yell, my voice high and reaching. I don’t know if anyone heard. If they did, they don’t come.
The footsteps behind me don’t slow.
Something catches and scrapes. “Shit,” the man mutters in a low, growly tone.
I glance back. He’s lying on the ground but he’s quick to scramble to his feet. I take off again, running at full speed for Main Street. It probably takes thirty seconds but it feels like a millennia, like I’m in a thickening dream and I can’t wake up. Once I stumble onto the sidewalk, I brave a look back.
The man is gone.
The adrenaline is still electric in my veins and my lungs are on fire, but he’s gone. He’s gone. Tears prick at my eyes and I can’t get my breath to slow. I hurry to The Flowering Chakra, trying to make sense of what happened. Wanting to pretend it wasn’t real. Wanting to cry.
As I’m about to enter the shop, I look around one last time to make sure the man isn’t still following me. My phone clatters to the pavement and I yelp.
The spirit dragon is perched on the roof across the street. The sunlight shines right through it, almost to the point that it’s absorbed by the creature, like the ghost is a black hole for energy and light. It’s ghastly and hulking with reptilian eyes that pin me down, watchful and intelligent. Their blue sheen stands apart from the black, unsettling my defenses.
The dragon is quick. It stands, unfurling two massive wings. They span ten feet on either side, a monument of power. And then it jumps, diving down first and then flying in a swooping arc, disappearing down the same alleyway I just came from. Is it simply a coincidence or is the dragon going after my attacker?
I don’t follow. I’m never going back there again.
“Are you okay?” a gravelly voice asks, and I nearly jump out of my skin. It’s Dean. “What’s going on? What happened?”
He towers over me, his bare arms crossed over his white t-shirt. His eyes dart around before zeroing in on me. I don’t know what to say, and when I do open my mouth, nothing but a frantic gargle comes out.
“Did you see the dragon again?” A long strand of black hair falls in front of his coal eyes as he stares me down.
I blink, trying to process what just happened, my heart still racing.
“Hazel! Where did it go?”
His forceful tone snaps me from my trance and I point toward the direction of the alleyway. Dean takes off running, charging around the corner and disappearing from sight.
16
Khali
Bram is as quiet and observant, as per usual. And even now, with so much happening that we could talk about, he hardly utters a word. I don’t mind. I don’t have anything to say to him either.
We’ve spent a few hurried hours on foot, but we can’t continue this way. As soon as we’re discovered to be missing, the King will send his army after us. I’ve seen them training. I know how fast they are, how skilled. There’s little time to waste.
“We need to move faster,” I say, my voice carrying over the flat landscape. Even through my velvet cape, a chill brushes along my spine. It doesn’t help that my long black dress still leaves an opening for the chill to nip at my legs. “I feel so exposed out here.”
“Agreed.” His voice is soft.
I let out a breath, scarcely believing what I’m about to offer. “If I change into my dragon form, you can ride on my back.”
He stops abruptly, his eyes shining under the moonlight. “Are you sure?”
That’s one of the things about dragon shifters: under no circumstances do we carry anyone on our backs. We’re not pack animals. We have pride and to be forced to carry someone is considered shameful. Some even say it’s an affront to the Gods, though I’m not sure they care about us as much as we think they do. I’ve certainly never carried anyone nor has Bram climbed on a dragon’s hide—they’d probably take his head off for such a gross offense.
“I don’t see any other way.” I run my cold fingers along my long braid and tuck it over one shoulder, trying to come up with the right words so I don’t further embarrass myself. “If we don’t take to the skies while it’s still dark, we’re not going to cover enough ground. The second your father discovers that we’re missing, there will be dragons flying in all directions to find us. We need to take advantage of our early start while we still can.”
What I don’t add is that if they find us together, Bram will be in more danger than myself. Dean was exiled for a single kiss. What would they do to Bram for running away with their future queen? Without my magic, t
here is no guarantee the next line of royal children will be elementals. And what’s he going to do when we return to the castle? I’m sure he has some sort of plan, but I don’t ask him. Not yet, anyway.
I try to meet his eyes but he’s looking down at the space between us, considering my offer. His gaze is hooded, hiding his thoughts from me. I don’t try to figure them out. I’ve never been able to figure out the puzzle that is Bram Brightcaster, but then again, I haven’t made much effort when it comes to him.
“Well, what do you think?” I ask, my voice catching. He’d better not make me beg because I’d rather leave him out here to fend for himself. “I’m fine doing whatever we need to do to make this work, just as long as we stay away from the water.”
He nods. “I remember what the merfolk did to you. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
“Don’t.” I hold up a hand and push away the memories. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
He nods and looks away, then points. “Let’s fly south but we’ll have to take cover during the day. We should be able to make it to the Jeweled Forest before morning. Once we’re in there, we can travel by foot and nobody will be able to see us from the sky. No water involved.”
The Jeweled Forest? My stomach twists into a knot.
It’s a brilliant idea, of course, but even if I don’t know very much about the place, I do know it’s dangerous and forbidden. I’m momentarily struck with gratitude for Bram and all his studies to have thought of such a great idea. I wouldn’t have known where to go to hide along my journey to the border had I gone alone.
I walk a few paces away from him and shift. Turning into my truest self always feels like salvation, like slipping into a hot bath or taking off a too-tight corset. The magic’s work is quick. The glimmer rises from within, growing around me in an orb of shimmery air. Then in a blink, the human part of me, and everything I’m wearing, vanishes and my dragon form appears.
My black hide gleams, and I stretch my wings out wide. The hum of elemental magic is stronger when I’m in this form and it calls to me as naturally as breathing. I hear the grass moving beneath my feet and the wind whispers an ancient song as it rushes past my ears.
There’s something else there, too. Something… unwelcome. It nags at the magic, trying to weaken it. Like a physical sprain on my elements. I fight back, pushing it down, until it goes. Worry trickles across my hide but I push that aside, too. I’ll deal with it later.
I crouch down and Bram doesn’t hesitate. He climbs on my long back in between my wings. Once I’m sure he’s secure, I launch off the ground. My wings pump and carry us up, up, up. If Bram is afraid, I don’t sense it. His heart rate doesn’t speed and his body doesn’t tense. It’s strange that he’s probably never had this experience before. He doesn’t know what it is like to fly. Not for the first time, I feel bad for him. He grips me tighter as I press forward, flying south toward the Jeweled Forest.
The hours pass by in a blur of thoughts and the constant flapping of my wings. I’m faster than most dragons, but carrying Bram slows me down slightly. He might not know the difference, but I can’t stop worrying. This will be a disadvantage to us but there’s nothing we can do.
I grow tired but I don’t allow myself to slow. Finally, the sun crests over the horizon and relief washes over me. Not far off, a forest sparkles like a rainfall of diamonds fell onto the trees and stuck to their branches. I dive low for our destination, grateful we made it in time, but also a little worried that this place is as dangerous as I’ve heard. I fly over the tops of the towering trees until the light is too much; it bounces off the jewels and blinds me. I force myself to keep from shielding my eyes as I bring us to a clearing and land. Bram jumps off my back and I shift back to my human self.
“Are you doing okay?” Bram asks. “You’re not too tired? We covered a lot of ground.”
I’m too distracted to answer. “It’s so much more beautiful than I imagined.” My voice is wistful as I stare at the enchanted landscape. Seeing it from above was nothing compared to standing among its brilliance. The trees don’t grow leaves here. They grow the most beautiful of jewels. They range in every color and shape, from red rubies, to white diamonds, to bright green emeralds and everything in between. I step forward, my fingers reaching out to touch a sparkling blue sapphire. It’s mesmerizing. The size of an apple. If only I could have it…
“Don’t!” Bram slaps my hand away.
I gasp and turn on him, rubbing the injury. “What was that for?”
“Did you not pay attention to your geography tutor at all?” he challenges, exasperated. “Anyone who takes a stone from this forest will be cursed to sleep for a thousand years.”
I blink. “I guess I might have heard that.” In all honesty, I am certain I did during some lesson or another, and I’m also certain I didn’t pay attention as Bram has pointed out. I swallow my pride. “Thanks for looking out for me.”
It makes sense. Nothing so incredible as this would still be here if it didn’t have this kind of protection. There are enough people in the kingdom who would exploit it, if not just for the riches, then for the ability to ease their load, for the ability to fill their childrens’ bellies every night.
The Brightcaster royals have a treasury of jewels, but nothing compared to some of these. If they could have taken them, they would have. They take everything they want, and damn the consequences to anyone they have to trample over in the process.
My eyes travel from gemstone to gemstone. Some are bigger than my head. This place isn’t natural and it’s not meant for me. The gemstones don’t call out to my earth elemental, not even a little. I didn’t notice at first, I was too drawn in by the sheer beauty of them. How could I have missed something so important? The realization makes me nervous.
“Let’s get going,” Bram says. “When you’re tired, let me know. We can rest and I’ll take first look out.”
We walk until the sun is high in the sky but we don’t move nearly as quickly as I’d have liked. We’re too scared to touch any of the jewels with our hands. I’ll have to make up for this delay once the night falls by flying us again. The forest is thick, which also doesn’t aid our speed. And it is eerily silent. Save for the crunching our boots make as we navigate through the trees, there’s no other noise. We don’t even come across any animals. No water, either. It’s as if the trees here are surviving on magic alone.
Perhaps they are.
My eyelids grow heavy and after catching me trying to cover a yawn, Bram insists we take a break. We find the tallest tree and settle beneath its generous canopy of glittering branches. The forest floor is littered with gems so we use our boots to clear a space, careful not to touch anything with our bare hands. I lay my thick, black cape out and curl on top of its velvety surface in a tight ball. Bram sits on a tree stump and turns away. My breathing slows and within a few minutes of closing my eyes, my mind drifts off to sleep.
Someone shakes me gently, two steady hands of sunlight. Bram’s hands. I blink to the setting sun and to him leaning over me. In an hour or two, it will be dark enough for us to fly. Red rims his eyes, brightening the green. He mumbles something about not letting him sleep too long and then he lays down, using his pack for a pillow and falls asleep almost instantly. I’ll let him sleep until the second the sky is black, and then we’re getting out of here.
I relax with my back to the wide trunk and root around in my pack, pulling out the block of cheese wrapped in beeswax cloth, one of the apples, and the heavy waterskin. I started gathering supplies the day after I ran into Silas in the hallway. It was then I knew, I was leaving. Luckily, I don’t have to ration the water because of my water elemental. Should I need more water, it will be easy to gather by calling it to me. But I only eat enough food to barely satisfy the hollow ache in my stomach. Food might be harder to find in the coming days.
“Khali…” a male voice sing-songs in tickling whispers. I whip around to Bram, but he’s still fast asleep, his bre
athing steady and messy hair blowing slightly in the wind.
I still myself and listen hard, but several minutes pass by in silence. Maybe it was in my mind, a response to exhaustion.
“Khali,” the voice whispers again, louder this time, and also seemingly from farther away. This is definitely not in my head and it reminds me of a voice I know as well as my own. But no. How could that be possible?
I hold my breath and listen harder, my heart wild in my chest.
“It’s me,” the voice says. “It’s Owen.”
I blink in disbelief. Could it be? My ears are playing tricks on me. Surely, that’s all this is. I ignore it and busy myself with repacking my items, tucking the rest of the cheese at the bottom. The second I finish with the pack and everything falls back into silence, the voice is there again.
“Khali, come here. Come talk to me.” It does sound like him.
This can’t be real. And I can’t move from my spot.
And there is that part of my mind, that logical part, which knows it’s all a trick and I should wake Bram. We should leave this forest, sunset or no. Because something about this forest is utterly wrong. But that part of my mind fades to the other part, the part that is desperate to talk to Owen, pulled in by the enchantment like a moth to the flame.
I stand as quietly as I can.
I’ll just go see what this is and come right back. Maybe Owen is speaking to me from beyond the grave. I’ve heard stories of the Gods allowing it. It’s not impossible.
I leave my pack and cape where they are and creep through the forest toward the direction of the voice. The glittering gems don’t entice me but I’m still aware of them and avoid them, even though they shine brightest in the setting sun. They have little hold over me compared to Owen. He coaxes me forward like nothing else would.
“This way,” he says, his voice a feathery whisper on the wind. “That’s right. Just over here. You’re close.”
I speed to match the thudding of my heartbeats. The more I walk, the more the need to find Owen overpowers me, pulling me forward. Soon it is the only thing that matters and I’m running.