Wings of Exile

by JD Monroe

  Natalie shook herself as if she’d dozed off and swiped through her phone. The volunteer glanced at the picture and shook his head. “I’m sorry, I don’t recognize her. But I don’t live in town. I came in from Charleston for the celebration.”

  “And you got stuck cleaning up?” Erevan said.

  The man scowled. “I volunteered.”

  “Is there someone here who’s local?” Natalie asked.

  He gestured to the other man picking up trash. “He came in with me, but there’s a few local volunteers left inside cleaning up.”

  Erevan nodded. “Thanks.”

  They walked past the volunteers and into the fenced area. The aftermath of Festival was all around them. Crumpled paper streamers lay in rainbow heaps in the damp grass. Volunteers inside carried folding chairs to metal racks and rolled up long bolts of yellow and orange fabric. There were several more vehicles inside, including two white moving trucks with workers loading furniture.

  “What was this?” Natalie asked.

  “Festival of the Sun,” Erevan said. “It’s sort of a religious holiday. It honors the Skymother.”

  “Is that your god?”

  “Yes, I suppose. Some say she was just a mythical figure, others a goddess, and some think she was a normal dragon like us.” The Festival of the Sun celebrated her victory over the malevolent Shadow King. Legend said the two dragon gods were so powerful and mighty that their wings blotted out the sun. Fighting for dominion over creation, the Skymother forced the Shadow King into the dark abyss. There, he could only bellow his rage and attack her, but her great wings of light wrapped around the world to protect it. Festival honored her sacrifice of solitude and endless struggle, while celebrating the primal joy of life that her protection made possible.

  “And you?”

  “That’s very personal.”

  Her jaw dropped. “Sorry.”

  He smiled and shook his head. “I’m kidding. I worship the Skymother, though I’ve always been more drawn to the Circle. They were dragons who were believed to be incarnations of the Skymother after her death. Shadori is the protector of innocents. I always liked her story.” Religion had become even more complicated with the Exiles’ arrival in the human realm. The queen held to the ancient, traditional belief in the Skymother. She had even established a temple for the Brood, the order of priestesses that served the Skymother. However, many questioned if the goddess’ power had followed them into exile. “During the days, there are traditional ceremonies and prayers, but at night it’s a huge party. To celebrate life.”

  “Like Mardi Gras.”

  “I’ve heard of that one. If it involves drinking and hooking up, then quite a lot like that.”

  Natalie smiled. The right corner of her mouth was slightly higher than the other, giving her smile a charming tilt. It was a good look on her, especially since she’d shed her wary tension. “And Thea was here?”

  “A friend of hers said so.”

  “Can you…I don’t know. Is there some magical way to find her?”

  “I wish it was that easy. I can smell other dragons, and if I knew her well I could probably find her within a small area. But this place was filled with my kind until a few hours ago. Even if she was here right now, I probably couldn’t pick her out of the noise.”

  They made a lap around the perimeter of the huge lawn. Erevan searched for evidence, like a hint of Thea’s presence or signs of a struggle, but there was nothing more than the aftermath of an expensive party.

  Near the tree line, Natalie paused and laughed quietly. A filament of black lace lay in the wet grass at their feet. “Someone’s missing something.”

  “A common problem at Festival,” he said. “Maybe—"

  He froze.

  Another set of tire treads began a few feet away from the lacy underwear. The wide ruts were the right size for one of the white trucks loading tables, running parallel to the driveway as far as he could see. He frowned. It could have been anything, from a truck that had already departed to a partygoer who’d been too impatient to drive down the driveway.

  He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with humid air. Farther out from the site of the party, he smelled more of nature, of damp soil and green leaves. And again, he caught the faintest hint of decay like he’d detected at Natalie’s home. He tried to focus on that smell, but there was no discernible direction. After a few moments, the smell dissipated, as if his noticing had frightened it away. It could have been the normal smell of decay in the woods; a dead animal, a fallen tree returning to the earth.

  “Do you smell something?” Natalie asked.

  He shook his head but took a tentative step toward the woods. Now it was gone. He walked in a circle, trying to find it again. There was only the smell of dragons and morning-damp earth. No blood or explosive energy of a Kadirai struggle. “Guess not.”

  Upon finishing their circuit around the open area, they returned to the gate. The volunteers had finished their trash pickup and were loading stuffed black bags into the back of a red pickup truck.

  A woman had joined them, swiping through a tablet as she surveyed the yard. She wore jeans and a flowing red top, but her styled blonde hair and ornate jewelry said she wasn’t there for trash pickup.

  As Erevan approached, the man they’d first spoken to waved at him. “This is the guy,” he said to the woman. “This is Herata. She’s local.”

  The blonde woman looked him over, then offered her hand in greeting. Erevan shook it. “You were looking for someone?”

  “I’m trying to find Alythea Tidesinger,” Erevan said. “She was here a few nights ago.”

  “Thea Leska,” Natalie said.

  “Thea!” Herata’s eyes lit up in recognition. She tucked the tablet under her arm. “She was lovely. Beautiful dancer.” She frowned. “Looking for her…is she missing?”

  “She was here two nights ago,” Erevan said. “But she never came home.”

  “That’s strange,” Herata said. “She was here until midnight. I remember because she and a few other dancers performed the isin-dakari for everyone. It was a treat. One of our Bedrock guests said it was better than anything he’d seen in Ascavar.”

  “Bedrock?” Natalie asked.

  “Later,” Erevan said. Herata’s eyes creased in confusion. Before Natalie could start asking questions, he cleared his throat. “Did you see her after the dancing?”

  “Just for a moment. I spoke to her, but she already had a glass of vrisadan and she looked like she was on a mission. I was making another round with the catering staff to make sure there was enough food, and then found myself…occupied,” she said, blushing. “I left around two in the morning and didn’t see her again.”

  “And you don’t know who she was taking the wine to?” Erevan asked.

  “I don’t,” Herata said. “I’m sorry. I really wish I could be of more help.” He didn’t have the foolproof bullshit detector that Ruana did, but as far he could tell, Herata was telling the truth. She maintained eye contact, and there was no discernible change to her pulse or her breathing.

  “No, it’s very helpful,” Erevan lied. “If you hear from her, will you call me?” He recited his number, which she typed into her tablet.

  Leaving Herata to manage her cleanup crew, he and Natalie hurried back to the car. She gave him the courtesy of waiting until they were both in the car to start asking questions. He held up a finger. “Hold on. I can’t give you a full history lesson right now. She mentioned vrisadan. That’s important. That’s a wine we only drink on festival days and at weddings. It’s symbolic. If you bring someone a glass of vrisadan, it means you want to be intimate with them. If they take it, they accept the offer.”

  Her eyes went wide. “She didn’t have a boyfriend that I know of.”

  He shrugged. “No one said anything about a boyfriend. The Festival of the Sun is about life and joy. And sometimes that includes getting naked with someone you find attractive.” Her cheeks flushed. �
�It’s possible Thea met someone.”

  “She’s not that type.”

  He shrugged again. “You didn’t know she was a dragon until yesterday. I think it’s fair to say you don’t really know what type she is.”

  She set her jaw. “Fine. Then we need to find out who she was taking the wine to.”

  “I’ve got someone working on a list of people that were in Thea’s social group. I think this is a dead end otherwise.” Once he’d received Zenyr’s list, he had passed it to Elfeli to start pulling files. He wasn’t certain what to look for, but he hoped he’d know it when he saw it.

  It had occurred to him early that morning that there might come a time when he needed to kick the case up to the Tempest division. Right now, Erevan could still argue that Thea’s former status as a Wanderer made it his jurisdiction. A missing Wanderer wasn’t a crime. But one of their kind had attacked Natalie, and it didn’t take much of an intellectual leap to deduce that Thea had probably come to harm. If he was being honest with himself, this case was barely in a gray area anymore. But he hated the idea of handing an open case to Rosak, the head of the Tempest. The man reported directly to the queen, which had inflated his ego to intolerable size. He was a powerful dragon, but he’d risen to his position because he could easily take down a rogue Kadirai in a fight, not because he possessed any sense of nuance or social graces. He was a brute enforcer, not an investigator or negotiator.

  It didn’t help that Rosak had personally rejected Erevan’s two attempts to earn a promotion, both times giving a condescending and insincere explanation that Erevan could best serve the community right where he was. But if he didn’t find something conclusive soon, he’d have to put aside his own ego and follow his conscience.

  “What else have you got?”

  “While you were getting ready this morning, I asked my partner to check with our contacts in several of the local hospitals to see if Thea had turned up. So far, she hasn’t found anything. But that got me thinking. I want to find the bastard who came to your house. Finding him might be easier than finding Thea.”

  “How?”

  “You said you shot him, didn’t you?”

  “Twice,” she said, her lips curving into a smile. “You don’t mess with Texas.” Then she cocked her head. “Would he go to the hospital?”

  He shook his head. “No, but he might have gone to a healer. Our kind avoid human hospitals. Too many questions.” He scrolled through his phone until he found Silvi Mara. He had a phone number, an email, and an address for the healer. “Can you put this into your system?” He read the address and waited for her to type it into the GPS.

  “Where are we going?”

  “We’re going to the dragon doctor.”

  Erevan’s mysterious dragon doctor was tucked deep in an older neighborhood not far from Natalie’s house. Who knew she’d been living ten minutes from a dragon? Hell, ten seconds, considering her recent revelation about Thea.

  At Erevan’s request, Natalie turned onto the gravel driveway. Her tires crunched on the loose stone. A black car was parked close to the house.

  “Pull up and park beside them,” he said.

  Following his instructions, she parked and got out of the car. The balmy air was infused with the smell of flowers and fresh-cut grass. The front of the house was surrounded with bright flowers and bushes. Rather than being confined to neat boxes and planters, the plants grew in haphazard clusters all over the yard, like a dragon’s hoard of glittering treasure in piles of brilliant color.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said.

  He led her to a bush weighed down by giant purple flowers. “These came from Ascavar. They usually only grow in the desert, but healers can make anything grow.” Glancing over his shoulder, he snapped a bloom from the back of the bush and offered it to Natalie.

  “They won’t mind?”

  “Our secret.”

  The flower’s petals spanned the length of her hand. The tapered petals were a rich, dark purple speckled with orange sunspots. Instead of the soft floral scent she expected, it smelled like cinnamon and ginger, tickling her nose. She stared in wonder at the foreign bloom as a nervous flutter swept through her. “Thank you.”

  He smiled a little, crinkling his eyes. It made her feel inexplicably proud to prompt the warm smile from him, so unlike the calculated mask he’d worn with Officer McQueen, or even the panty-melting grin he’d unleashed on the receptionist. It was irrational to think she could pinpoint it after knowing him only twenty-four hours, but she knew the warm expression was a glimpse of the real Erevan.

  Then it was over as he turned and took his phone out, taking pictures of the other car in the driveway. Even as he circled the car and snapped a picture of the license plate, she felt the lingering warmth from the brief glimpse.

  While she wasn’t sure what to expect from a dragon healer’s office, this place made her think of a welcoming home. More flowers overflowed from terra cotta pots on the porch. On the far end of the porch was a tall bronze sculpture of a tree with a dragon’s tail coiled around its trunk. Erevan reached past her to ring the doorbell. A sun-faded plastic speaker was mounted next to the door.

  “Can I help you?” The male voice was tinny.

  “Erevan Skyblaze, with the Skywatch. I’m here to speak to Silvi Mara.”

  “Is it an emergency?”

  “No. I just want to talk to her.”

  “Come in and wait in the front room,” the male voice said. There was a click, and Erevan opened the door, waiting for her to go in ahead of him.

  Past a small foyer was a bright, airy living room with light blue walls and smooth hardwood floors. She felt like she was barging into someone’s house, but Erevan sauntered in and headed for one of the couches. A wall-mounted TV played a nature show at low volume. As they entered, a young man intercepted them, holding a clipboard. “Mr. Skyblaze?” he said. It was the man who’d spoken through the intercom.

  “Yes.”

  “Silvi is with a patient at the moment,” the young man said. “I’ll let you know when she’s available. Would you like some water while you wait?”

  Erevan glanced at Natalie. She shook her head, and he waved dismissively at the young man.

  “Skyblaze?” Natalie whispered.

  “My real name. Have a seat. It could be a while.”

  Natalie sank onto the couch next to Erevan. Even with two feet of couch between them, she was keenly aware of the heat pouring from him in a constant aura. He was impossible to ignore. For a crazy moment, she contemplated what it would be like to snuggle up to that warmth. She shook off the intrusive thought. “Is she a dragon, too?”

  “Yes and no,” he said without looking up from his phone. “It’s complicated.”

  Natalie took the hint and left him alone. Instead, she took a few minutes to check her email and send a message to their members. Apologizing for the inconvenience, she explained that Thea was very sick and would return as soon as she was able. Though she’d fibbed for Thea before when she was running late, this lie made her uneasy. She was pulling the veil over a dangerous situation, one that would eventually resolve. Would she have to compose a much more somber message soon?

  She couldn’t think that way. Thea was going to be fine.

  The young man returned. “She can see you now.”

  He gestured for them to follow him down a side hallway. There were two smaller rooms off the hallway, each with a numbered plaque on the door like a doctor’s office. The first door they passed was closed. They followed him into the open door at the end of the hall.

  Large windows opened onto a view of the lush garden outside. Unlike the rest of the house, the walls and floor were made of smooth gray stone. Finger-thick veins of silver were inlaid in the stone floor, forming an ornate circular pattern and climbing up the walls like vines. Silks in shades of blue were draped from the ceiling, glittering with silver threads. A large stone table occupied the center of the room. A young woman stood at the end of the tab
le gathering cream-colored linens.

  A tall woman stood in the corner of the room, washing her hands in a stone basin. As she dried them on a white towel, she turned to face them and smiled. “Erevan, dath sequa.”

  “English, please, Silvi,” he said. “It is very good to see you.”

  A smile flitted across Silvi’s face, but she seemed more interested in staring Natalie down. Then she turned to Erevan and said something else in the same language that Natalie didn’t recognize. The discussion was quick, but with the pointed look Silvi gave her and Erevan’s quick response, she couldn’t help feeling like they were talking about her. He replied in kind, then gestured to Natalie. “This is Natalie.”

  The woman smiled. “Silvi Mara.” She tipped her head in acknowledgement. Her slender, tall frame reminded her of Thea. Her dark hair was coiled in a sleek style atop her head, with silver combs holding it back and a small white flower peeking from behind her ear. Her feet were bare, and she wore a dark blue wrap dress that flowed around her knees. A single dark blue dot marked the bronze skin of her brow. “You do not appear to be bleeding, so what brings you here?”

  Erevan gestured to Natalie. “She was attacked by Kadirai yesterday.”

  “Kadirai?”

  “Dragons. That’s what our kind are called in our native tongue,” he replied. “Natalie lives with a Wanderer who disappeared. The man came to her house attempting to convince her that there was no problem, then transformed and attacked.”

  Silvi’s eyebrows shot up on her forehead. “That was bold.”

  “She shot him,” Erevan continued.

  “Twice,” Natalie interjected. Her momentary pride was overwhelmed by fear at the memory of the monstrous creature in her home.

  “Twice,” Erevan said. “I found Kadirai blood at the scene, so he was definitely wounded. Did anyone come to you late last night or early this morning, perhaps with a hole in his neck?”