“No,” Rakan said. He shifted between Anna and T’eng Sten without thinking.
“Pemba.” Anna pulled up short. “How did you get here? You were just…”
T’eng Sten laughed. “You’ll have to erase her mind now. Humans can’t deal with it.”
“Go back out,” Rakan said to Anna. He put his hands on her shoulders to block her view of the others. “I’ll be right there.”
Anna shook her head. “How did you move so fast?” She tried to get around Rakan. “What’s going on? Who are they?”
Rakan felt T’eng Sten run his mind over Anna. She backed up, shaking her head and trying to block the Kairök’s mind-touch. Rakan threw up a shield, but he was too late. Anna stood perfectly still, frozen in time.
“Well, at least I understand your interest in her,” said T’eng Sten, raising an eyebrow.
“Let her go,” growled Rakan. He tried to undo whatever it was that T’eng Sten had done. But he couldn’t, not without a risk of harming her. “Free her,” he snarled. He threw himself at T’eng Sten’s throat.
“Your manners truly are appalling,” said T’eng Sten, flipping Rakan over his shoulder and immobilizing him on the floor. “You should say thank you – I erased her mind. She’ll snap out of it as soon as I leave and she’ll have no memory of my time here. Or of you shifting so foolishly right in front of her.” He got off Rakan and turned to Dvara. “Will you honor me by answering the Call to Rise by my side?” His voice was firm.
Dvara tilted her chin up. “Leave now and I’ll join you.”
T’eng Sten came and stood directly in front of Dvara, but without touching her. “If you’re playing with me, I’ll have your hide. Is that clear? This isn’t a game, Dvara.”
“Then you should leave,” she said coldly. “Now.”
T’eng Sten gave her a terse bow and disappeared with his bodyguards in tow.
* * *
Anna felt a sudden wrenching pain in her head and put a hand out to steady herself. The tension around Pemba and Dawa was electric. Pemba spun around as if she had just appeared. He flung his arms around her and squeezed her so hard she coughed. “Anna, Anna,” he repeated. He put his hands on her face and searched her eyes. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said, pulling away from his touch that vibrated anxiety. “Why are you acting so worried?” Anna took a step back. “Don’t you guys want to see the sunrise?”
“No.” Dawa spun around and went the other way.
“Wait…” Pemba said, letting go of Anna. She wobbled on her feet and he steadied her before running after his sister. He grabbed Dvara’s arm and pulled her to a stop just as she reached the stairwell. “Don’t go,” he said.
“I’m doing this for you,” she snapped. Then added more gently, “Just let me go. Okay? I’ll be fine.”
Pemba watched as Dawa ran up the stairs and disappeared around the bend. He turned to Anna, but he wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Let’s go.”
They walked down the stairs and outside in silence.
“Uh, Pemba, what’s wrong?” asked Anna as they crossed the schoolyard to join the rest of the students on the hill overlooking the fjord. But Pemba didn’t answer.
Anna jumped in surprise as a small jolt of electricity ran up her leg. “Hey.” She turned to see what she had stepped on, but there was only a piece of paper.
Pemba grabbed her by the shoulders, grinning. “You felt it.”
“For a minute I thought it was another trigger,” she said. “But it’s nothing.”
“What do you know about triggers?” he asked, his voice dropping.
“Nothing. I mean… we should join the others.”
“Anna, tell me.”
Her Firemark throbbed, as it often did when she was near Pemba. She closed her fist. Pemba saw the movement and slid his hand down her arm. He took her hand in his and opened it gently. “How did you get this?”
“I don’t know. I was with June and my stone…”
Pemba placed his other hand over the Firemark and searched her eyes. Anna stared back, mesmerized. She had never noticed that his eyes had orange and copper flecks. “Your eyes… are beautiful.”
Pemba turned away. “We’ll miss the sunrise if we don’t hurry up.”
Anna scurried after Pemba, wishing she didn’t always blurt things out. They stopped at the top of the hill, slightly apart from the crowd. Anna stood awkwardly next to Pemba whose immobility made her feel even worse. She didn’t want to watch the first sunrise with anyone else. But she wasn’t sure Pemba wanted to be with her.
Little by little the sky ignited until finally the edge of the sun managed to pull itself up above the horizon. The darkness slipped from the town into the fjord and a cheer rose from the crowd, unified by a primordial response to the return of the sun. The teachers walked around, distributing the traditional custard rolls called sun buns that marked the occasion. Anna felt an incredible warmth spread through her as the sun’s rays caressed her cheek for the first time in two months. She closed her eyes and raised her face to the sun, basking in its gentle touch that she had almost forgotten. The sun tried valiantly to inch its way up into the sky, but after about ten minutes it sank back down again. As if the effort had been too much, leaving behind a pale gray sky in its wake.
Pemba stood behind Anna and pulled her against his chest. “I’m sorry.” His voice choked as his heart pounded against her back. “I really am.”
Anna put her hands on his arms and didn’t say anything.
* * *
Rakan sat in class wishing he could shift elsewhere. His trigger shouldn’t have left a Firemark on Anna’s hand. It hadn’t been set up that way. And yet he had been filled with inexplicable joy when he had seen it. It marked her as his. When she couldn’t be. She was a human. Rakan writhed silently as his rök twisted in agony, desperately trying to get free. Resisting the Call to Rise with Anna next to him, and knowing she wore his Firemark, had been an act of sheer will power. He hadn’t even been able to observe Jing Mei or the void-trails. He had failed Dvara. She had left with T’eng Sten to free Anna and all he had to do was observe Jing Mei. And he hadn’t. His rök lurched wildly in his chest. The room closed in on Rakan. There was no way he’d make it to the end of class without exploding. He eyed the door. Could he even make it that far? A wave of peace rolled over him. Another dragon was nuzzling him. He looked up in surprise. June watched him from across the room, her cobalt blue eyes open and friendly.
Rakan was flooded with an aching desire to respond, to nuzzle her back. A different ache flared up inside him, an ache he had always refused to acknowledge but which he could no longer deny: the ache of loneliness. Wave after wave of pain came back up, choking him with years of unacknowledged suffering. June wrapped him in warmth, easing his pain. Little by little, Rakan’s rök calmed down until he was once again in control. The wailing of his rök turned into a whimper, but he knew it wouldn’t last. He needed to join a Cairn.
The rest of the afternoon Rakan sat, watching June. Unable to even pretend he was doing anything else. He ached to merge with her, to know what she was thinking, to become part of her Cairn and share in a way that only dragons linked through the same Kairök could share. Rakan struggled to maintain control of his rök. Dragons didn’t heal each other unless they were members of the same Cairn or shared a blood tie. Jing Mei had no reason to touch him, and he couldn’t figure out why she had. But his rök didn’t care. It just wanted her to do it again.
The bell rang and Rakan hung back, letting everyone else run out of class. He lingered at his locker, confused, until the hall was empty. According to Code, he should have acknowledged Jing Mei’s help. But how could he thank a dragon he might need to kill? Especially when all he really wanted was to throw himself at her in a desperate attempt to merge with her – either by giving her his rök or taking hers. He flung his backpack over his shoulder and headed for the stairs. He felt June coming back up and froze. His body tingled in apprehension.
>
“I forgot something,” June said when she arrived at the top of the stairs. “Well, no, not really. Are you okay now?”
“Yes, thank you,” Rakan said, bowing to her before realizing what he was doing and jerking himself back up. He had bowed as if she was a Kairök.
She smiled. “You were in too much pain for me to leave you like that.” She got the blank look his parents had when they spoke to each other mentally. “Erling’s worried,” she said, rolling her eyes. “See you tomorrow.” She turned and ran downstairs.
Rakan dropped his bag and slumped on a stair, watching the empty stairwell. Only dragons linked through their röks could mind-speak. But the void-trails weren’t dragons. He was sure of it now that he had felt the twins in action. And June still had her rök. Yet June and Erling could mind-speak.
Rakan was still sitting on the stairs when Dvara shifted next to him. She radiated peacefulness.
“You okay?” She sat down next to him and sent him a wave of warmth.
“Thanks,” he said, leaning against her shoulder. “I’m fine.”
Dvara gave him a look. “No you’re not. What’s wrong?”
Rakan groaned. What was he supposed to say? That Jing Mei had helped him? And that he had wanted to respond? That Anna wore his Firemark? Rakan put his head in his hands and dug his nails into his scalp. The pain was coming back. He couldn’t even tell Dvara that June and Erling could mind-speak since she’d just take it as proof that the void-trails were dragons and that Jing Mei was Paaliaq, their Kairök. When she couldn’t be, or she wouldn’t have helped him.
“Hey,” Dvara said, wrapping him in another wave of warmth. “Was resisting the Call to Rise that bad?”
“Have you ever noticed that you can see when a dragon still has their rök?” asked Rakan, changing the subject to something he could deal with.
“What are you talking about? You can feel it. But you can’t see it.”
“In our trails. Look. The three of us all have a thin stripe that glows.”
Dvara focused on the trails. “I don’t see anything different from usual. Nothing is glowing in any of them.”
“Look at yours, it might be easier,” Rakan said, pointing to the center of her trail. “It’s like a fine thread of vermillion silk that runs straight through your trail. See?”
“No.”
“Mine was the only one I could see before. I thought it was because it was my own.”
“Didn’t Yarlung explain it to you? Surely she would have seen it before since she was a Master Trailer before she started to go blind.”
“No. I asked her when she first started training me.” Rakan’s voice sank lower. “But she thought I was making it up.” She had locked him in solitary confinement as punishment.
Dvara snorted. “She never thinks anyone can do something she can’t. Ready to shift?”
“No. Let’s walk.” He wanted to follow the trail of June’s rök that he had finally been able to see. It was more complex than theirs. It had three strands instead of one. And it didn’t glow her cobalt blue, it shimmered like an opal with a multitude of colors. It was hard to see unless the trail was fresh.
“Alright, then. Let’s go,” Dvara said, sounding annoyed.
Rakan looked carefully at his half-sister. “Are you okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
He stood up slowly. “How did things go with T’eng Sten?”
“Fine,” said Dvara. She took off down the stairs. “But we have work to do. They haven’t tripped a single trigger, even though they’ve been totally wrapped up in each other. I don’t understand it.”
Rakan ran after her. “Dvara…”
“What?”
“Nothing,” he said, pulling back. She’d never tell him what had happened and he couldn’t read her at all. “Thank you.”
She looked at him questioningly.
“For Anna,” he said, unable to meet her eyes.
Dvara pushed him in the shoulder. “You’re welcome. And don’t worry, it wasn’t so bad.” A smile played on her lips and she turned away, blocking him off again.
They walked in silence until they neared the Tibetan House. “What do you think about the twins?” Dvara asked. “How can they can be identical like that? It can’t be natural.”
“They aren’t actually identical,” Rakan said, his eyes on the void-feeling trails that led to their home. “Sverd’s trail is sharper, like the edge of a blade, and Verje’s is harder. Or denser. His trail is more like a barrier or a shield.” Rakan stopped in front of the Tibetan House. “Look, they must have stood here. The trails are clearer.”
Dvara looked around. “I don’t see them. Have you tried to erase yours yet? Maybe that would help you figure it out. But they have to be dragons: Erling is wearing a Maii-a. I felt it on him this afternoon.”
Rakan shrugged. “Anyone can wear one.” An image of Anna wearing his and nothing else floated into his mind.
“Except that they can’t be made on Earth. The only Maii-as left are those that the Old Dragons were wearing when the Red Planet exploded. And both June and Erling have one. How could they have gotten them if they aren’t Old Dragons?”
“Maybe two Old Dragons gave them their Maii-as, like Yarlung and Khotan gave us theirs. Because otherwise they’d all have Maii-as.” Rakan tried to push the image of Anna wearing his away. But he couldn’t. It had felt too good when she had held his Maii-a at the café. Intimate and warm. And soft. So soft.
“You think they’re all New Dragons?” Dvara paused on the porch. “It’s true that they look like New Dragons if you forget about their coloring that they’ve transformed. But five of them? That Yarlung and Khotan never detected before?”
Rakan didn’t answer. He was struggling to control his desire to morph.
“I can’t do this on my own, Rakan. Okay?” Dvara said sharply, dousing him with a wave of cold energy. “Maybe you should stop with the human girl if it’s going to mess you up like this. You need to figure out how they’re blocking their trails so that we can figure out who they are. Now. The longer we stay here, the easier it’ll be for them to kill us first. Our only hope is to move fast and attack them before they attack us.”
“The void-trails aren’t hiding their trails,” Rakan said, flickering out of control. “For the very simple reason that they aren’t dragons. Only the Old Dragon is hiding his trail. And he’s not one of them.”
“Well what else can they be?” growled Dvara. Her eyes flashed vermillion.
“I don’t know,” Rakan growled back, ready to fight. “But we can’t attack anyone until you learn to control your rök.”
Dvara snorted. “Speak for yourself, playboy.” And slammed the door in his face.
Chapter 8
Frustrations
ANNA WALKED HOME SLOWLY AFTER HANDBALL practice on Thursday. Pemba still hadn’t talked about getting together this weekend, and she wasn’t going to ask him. Not after he had refused to tell her what he and Dawa had been arguing about all week. Whatever it was, it made him impossible to be around. And didn’t help her like Dawa any better. How could she trust someone who behaved like two different people? Quiet and withdrawn at school and then so aggressive, even violent, on the court. And the coach seemed to have forgotten that handball was supposed to be a team sport. Even if one player was clearly a star. By the time Anna reached her apartment, she wasn’t sure if she was angrier with Pemba or Dawa.
“Hi, honey,” said her mom as Anna dumped her stuff in the hallway. “How was school?”
“Okay.”
“I know this is hard on you, Anna. And I’m sorry.” Her mom paused. “But can’t we make an effort? Maybe we can go see a movie together tomorrow, just the two of us…?”
Anna stared angrily at her mom. Why did she always think everything was about her? But her mom looked so hopeful, and so unsure, that Anna felt trapped. “Okay,” she mumbled. “Are you sure Ulf won’t mind?” She wanted her mom to be happy, but being at the mo
vies with them both was more than she could handle.
Her mother laughed. “You’re so sweet. No, he won’t. He has to work. But even if he didn’t, he understands that girl time is important.”
Anna rolled her eyes and went up to her room. Girl time, not family time. Her mother never understood.
* * *
“Can I walk you home?” Rakan asked Anna after school the next day.
Anna looked at him, shrugged her shoulders and headed out of the schoolyard.
Rakan jogged after her. “I’ll take that as a yes?”
“Take it any way you want.”
Rakan grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him. “What’s wrong?”
“Maybe you should tell me.” She pulled her arm away. “You’ve been fighting with your sister all week and you won’t even tell me what it’s about. You never even told me what Draak meant.”
Rakan stared at her. Surprised that her anger stoked his desire to possess her. His rök lurched in frustration and Rakan struggled to force it back into submission. He couldn’t just throw her on the snow and take her. But he wanted to.
Anna turned and walked away. “Forget it, Pemba.”
Why did she always turn her back to him? He could barely control himself as it was. He ran after her and stopped her again. “Draak means dragon,” he blurted out, so close to losing control that he didn’t even realize he was breaking an unspoken code. Draagsil was a secret language.
Anna didn’t say anything. She just crossed her arms and waited.
Rakan looked away, not wanting her to see his raging desire to chase her. “What else do you want to know?”
“Why you and Dawa are fighting since it’s all you think about,” she snapped. “Just tell me what’s wrong, Pemba,” she added more softly, taking a step toward him. “Let me in. Please.”
Anna’s closeness threw him off balance. He didn’t want to lie to her, but he didn’t know what to say either. “We don’t always agree. She…” she what? Wants to kill June and her boyfriend? And the other void-trails, too? Rakan looked at Anna, wishing she would turn and run so that he could chase her. “She doesn’t want to stay here very long,” he said, his voice rougher than he expected.
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