I take it slow, forcing myself off the mattress. I feel like a board. Every time I move, something cracks or snaps, and I’m afraid of breaking. But at least it isn’t as bad as last night, though painful nonetheless.
The hand on the clock ticks, bringing it to my attention that it’s only nine in the morning. Before painfully removing myself from the comforts of my mattress, I hadn’t considered the fact that the library opens at eleven because it’s Saturday, which means hiding in my room until it’s time to leave because who knows what questions Mom and Dad will bombard me with if I go down there now. I didn’t want to deal with any of them. Not questions about Max, last night, or the bruises peeking out of my shirt collar, or anything else.
Though my stomach is growling and my body is aching, I sit around, try to stretch, attempt to read a novel, and even reorganize my closet. And finally when ten thirty comes, I rush down the stairs as fast as I’m physically capable and grab my keys from the bowl by the door, get in my car, and drive away, arriving at the library two minutes after they’ve officially opened their doors. Knowing this city as well as I do, I arrive right before the study nerds from school.
I go straight to the counter, knowing I’ll never find what I need in a timely manner. The youngest librarian I’ve ever seen there can’t be much older than myself and is busy trying to have a conversation via text while helping a woman and little girl. The older woman seems to be fingering through files, her glasses perched so low on her nose, I’m surprised they haven’t already slipped off.
“Excuse me?” I say, trying to gain her attention.
She simply clears her throat and continues doing whatever it is she’s doing. I assume she heard me, but unable to know for sure, and needing help, and certainly not wanting to deal with the young girl, I try again.
“Excuse me? I’m hoping you can point me in the right direction. I’m looking for a book on dragons,” I try to say as quietly as possible, not only because it’s a library, but I don’t want people knowing what I’m doing.
“Pardon me?” The old woman looks up, eyebrows quirked.
“I need any and all books you have on dragons.”
“I recommend the young adult fantasy section over there.” She stands and points to the farthest corner on the right-hand side.
“I’m not looking for fiction.” I know how crazy it sounds, but I don’t know what else to say. Certainly they have something on mythology. It might still be classified under fiction, but definitely not fantasy, and not in the YA section.
“Then you’re not looking for dragons.” She pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose, picks up the box in front of her, and disappears to the back room.
“Don’t think too much about it. She’s just not having a good day. Someone returned her favorite book and it was completely destroyed,” the young woman says, finally glancing up from her phone.
I nod, unsure how to respond to that, and go to the opposite side, knowing I’m on my own. I’ll start with mythology and work my way from there. Dragons are real. Now I just need to find records that prove it.
I wander the aisles, running my finger down the spines of each book as I pass, searching for anything that might contain information on dragons or anything that took place hundreds of years ago that could be related.
The only book that looks remotely close to what I want is a small pamphlet-sized book that looks more like a journal. The spine is so tiny, it doesn’t have anything written on it, only scales trailing from top to bottom. I pull it out and inspect the cover.
Scales of Water and Sky
by R. Ebony
Flipping through the pages, I see diagrams, drawings of what those creatures would look like. The first half is about mermaids and mermen, and their counterparts, sirens. But the second half is what I’ve been looking for.
Dragons.
Dragons on every page, listing scales, colors, meanings. Where their myths came from, and most importantly, how none of it is real. I sigh, shoving the book back onto the shelf as quickly as I can before moving on.
Not wanting to waste precious time going through every mythology book looking for specific ones, but needing the information and not finding it elsewhere, I return to that section and begin pulling out book after book.
I’ve read at least a dozen stories. Everything from Zeus to Robin Hood. And the only thing even close to a dragon is the Loch Ness Monster.
“Miss? The library is now closed.” The old woman is looking down at me, seeming slightly perplexed. I look at my phone, sitting on the floor beside me. One p.m. already. Resigning myself to my failure, I pack up the books I’ve selected and take them to the counter where the young girl, her name tag now prominently pinned to her shirt, is waiting to help out check my books so she can leave.
“Did you find what you were looking for?” she asks.
“Not really. But thanks, Cheryl.”
She smiles. “I hope you do. It sounds interesting.”
“Thanks,” I say, only half paying attention to her, more interested in the older woman, staring at me as she walks between the aisles and cleans up the messes other people left. Every time she appears, her eyes seem different, but I can’t figure out why. Or for that matter, why she’s staring at me.
“Library card?” Cheryl asks loudly.
I look back. “Oh, sorry.” I pull it from my pocket and hand it to her.
A second later, she slides it across the counter to me. “You’re all set. Have a good day. Happy reading!” She hands me the bag of books.
I set the bag on the passenger seat and drive, passing home, and continuing up the canyon. It’s almost like I don’t have control over where I’m going. Despite knowing I can’t re-enter the dragon forest, it’s where I’m headed.
Not that it matters. Banished or not, upon arrival, I find nothing different. I’m stuck in my world now until I fix this. I sit on the ground, leaning against the same tree from yesterday—a tree that seems to have come with me in the ban from entering Runavelius—careful not to scrape my already battered body on the bark, and lay out the books around me like they were at the library.
There’s a cracking sound and an odd yelp before all goes silent around me again. I sit up straighter, looking around, feeling sick with unease that someone followed me here.
“Hello?” I call out, realizing that even if someone is there, they would hardly respond to my call. If they wanted their presence known, they wouldn’t be sneaking around. I wait, holding my breath, wondering what to do next. I’m afraid to speak to Yackros, but at the same time, curious if it makes a difference.
I take a deep breath, and that feeling of unease disappears. Perhaps it was all in my head after all. I shake it off and return to the task at hand.
Six books, endless possibilities. And no guarantees I’ll find anything that helps. “Yackros? Can you hear me?” I ask aloud. There’s a moment of silences and I’m about ready to give up on that idea when a soft voice speaks.
“I’m always with you, Alita. I told you that. I admire your ability to stay away for so long, and I thank you for that decision. I know this isn’t easy. For me either. But it is necessary. What, if anything, have your earthen records taught you? What information can you prove regarding dragons? And the answer to the riddle Guthrie gave you? Anything?”
“I miss you, Yackros. Life is meaningless without you in it. Is this truly the only way I can free you? Because I spent two hours searching for answers and found nothing. Surely there’s another way.”
There’s a moment of silence, a long pause as though he too doesn’t know how to handle this situation. “I miss you too, my little wingless friend.” I don’t think I’ve ever heard a more heartbreaking sound than that. It’s a reassuring moment that proves to me just how much this all means, everything that hangs in the balance.
“You have to understand that this has never happened before, Alita. There is no one before us who could give us the easy answers. Discover the truth that ha
s been lost. Once you do, no one will go through this after us. You will be a hero to many. I wish I could help, but I know nothing. Not that would help you, anyway. Perhaps share with me what you did find.”
“Nothing.” I relay the few mythical tales, the book on dragons that claimed it’s all fake. That catches his attention.
“Who was the author of that book?”
“I don’t remember. It was so foolish, I didn’t bother looking. Is that important?” If the book didn’t know anything, why would the author?
“It very well could be. Some of the information you relayed is true, so perhaps the woman who wrote it knows more than what she gave away.”
“How do you know it’s a woman who wrote it? Do you know who she is?” I ask, completely confused.
“Possibly. Give me a name, and I’ll give you an answer,” his calming tone promises.
“What information from the book was true?”
“You know what my scales feel like. How did this author describe them?”
“Like stone. Some smooth, some rough, depending on the dragon. She said some dragons came in a shell as strong as jade, and others as brittle as opal. That some are luminescent while others are dull.” I know there’s more, but they didn’t seem important at the time.
“Alita.” Yackros’ voice in my head lowers to a whisper. “It’s true, and you know it.”
“But is that enough to believe this author has any idea what she’s really talking about?” I ask, wondering how much stock to put into it.
“What did she say of our eyes?” he asks.
I blink slowly, recalling the exact words the author used. “Most books recite tales of dragons upon their pillaged gold, their eyes reflecting as the irises turning bright metallic, matching that of the treasures they stole. While this rings true, that is only the case for some of the dragons in existence. A dragon’s eyes reflect the color of their bonded human, and the powers they hold within. For a dragon that breathes ice, coldness running in their veins, blades of the gold substance reflects in their pupils. The dragon of the flame shows a fire in their eyes right before their victim is burned to a crisp.”
“And what happened to Ruxsiu’s eyes when he threatened you?” he asks, sounding sick at the situation, but needing to prove his point.
I gulp, not wanting to relive yesterday. “There was the shape of flames dancing in his pupils.”
“Indeed there were. I could go on asking questions, but I think the truth is evident. The author of that book is aware of our existence. She was trying to create a ploy. Something people could turn to with questions, where they could gain truthful answers while also getting nothing out of it at all.”
“So what do I do now? Even if she knows, it doesn’t mean I’ll be able to find her. And even if I could, what good does that do?” I ask, feeling just as lost as before.
“If she is the woman I believe her to be, she will know what to do. If she is alive, it means there is hope for a future without King Ruxsiu’s reign over us, controlling everything we do. It means I could be free, and we could fix the damage done over a thousand years ago.” He takes a deep breath, sounding more and more hopeful. Which is encouraging.
“You mean I would be able to show the world that you’re real? We wouldn’t have to hide?”
“That’s exactly what I mean. The wars that caused the rift between our kinds could end, but only if the author of that book is who I think she is. So find her. Whatever it takes, Alita. You must find her. I believe she has the keys to unlocking this.”
“Yackros?”
“Yes, Alita?”
“What if I don’t find her? What if I can’t? What if I do, but she’s unwilling to help me? Or perhaps she’s died and whatever she knew is lost information forever?”
Yackros clears his throat. I can imagine the contemplative look on his face right now. I just wish I could see it. Wish I could hug him, be near him, not have to be on the other side of an invisible barrier keeping us apart. I wish the king would listen to me. We shouldn’t be punished for finding each other. What if we end the battle between our kinds, as Yackros said we could?
“Alita, you must listen to me carefully. Understand what I am saying. If it is who I suspect, she is not dead. She can’t be. And if that’s true, it means the dragon she is bound to lives. Assuming that is the case, it means that he can save us. He can break the banishment that keeps us apart. He will free me because there are laws that King Ruxsiu is disobeying because he wants to rule, but he shouldn’t be. He is not a good being. His heart is as black as his scales, and he will do whatever it takes to keep power. He must be overthrown.”
“And if what you say is true, is possible, and this other dragon is the answer to our problems, who is to say he will help us? What if after all this time, things have changed? If there are other dragons out there, why haven’t they already come to the rescue?”
“There are other dragons out there, Alita. Do your research. There are dragons around the world. We all went into hiding. Just as you are stuck outside, we are trapped inside. As for the dragon you seek, I know he will help because if he lives, he is a prisoner and this land is his, for he is our true king. There are only two reasons why he could not be here. Either he is dead, or he is alive and being held against his will. You must find out which is true. And if it is the latter, I must ask more of you than I should, but with no other choice. This task falls to you, Alita. Promise me that you will remain strong. I need you to save him. To bring him home. I hate to speculate what will happen if you can’t.” He sounds so sad, so miserable and heartbroken that he must ask me to do such hard things.
“I promised to free you, whatever it took. I didn’t mean that so long as it remained an easy task. I love you, Yackros. You are my best friend, my closest ally. This is a crazy concept because the people in my world tell me you shouldn’t even exist, but I mean what I say. And I will free you or die trying.” Reassurance flows through my veins. “Is that you? I feel warmer than usual, and a ridiculous sense of hope.” I kind of chuckle.
“It is I, my dear. As our bond grows stronger despite our distance, it means that our powers will grow. You, too, can comfort me when you’ve learned how to control your own emotions and how they are emitting from you. But not to worry—that can come later. Your strength and resilience are enough comfort for me while I am in this dark place.” The tone of his voice suggests far more than sadness, but I can’t put a word on it.
“Yackros, are you in danger where you are right now? Please tell me nothing is going to harm you while I’m away. I can’t stand the thought of losing you when it seems like I’ve only barely found you.”
“It is because of you that I am safe. Despite Ruxsiu’s evil ways and his belief that only he can create and break the rules, because of our bond, he cannot hurt me. Not without losing all control over these dragons, and at the risk of his life. Because you offered to die in my place, and/or alongside me, I am protected. So yes, I am safe. Finding the true king of the dragons will help all of us remain that way. But you have time. Do not let the emotional toll control you. Remain strong. My little wingless warrior, one day, you will fly. We will fly together.” His words are the reassurance I need.
If I thought or knew he was being tortured in any form, I wouldn’t be able to focus on anything but that.
“I will free you. I’m going to find the author of that book. First thing Monday morning, I will return to the library and get it.”
“Alita,” Yackros says in a warning tone.
“Yes?”
“Do not sacrifice your schooling experience for this. As I said, you have time. And more than that, if you begin skipping school and acting oddly, people will begin to suspect that something is going on. That can’t happen. It could start up the war we went into hiding to end. And if that happens, no matter our bond, I won’t be able to be anywhere near you. Please take heed.”
Though I hate it, I know he’s right. And starting up a thousand-year-o
ld war again wouldn’t be my best moment. “I won’t ruin our chances of fixing this. I will save you, and no one will know.” I pull my knees to my chest, resting my chin on them.
“Thank you,” he says softly.
“You’re welcome.” I can feel him growing distant. I know he’s going to tell me I need to go, that the connection is getting weaker through the magic stopping us from being in the same place. But I’m not ready to leave.
“Alita—” he begins.
“Don’t.” I stop him. “Don’t say what I know you’re going to say. We don’t have to talk. But please, just let me sit here. Let me believe I’m leaning against your scaly side and we’re back in our meadow. Please?” My resolve grows weaker because I know this is just as hard for him.
“I was hoping you’d stay. I’ll even snore a little.” He chuckles. Oh, how I’ve missed that sound.
“Thank you.” I laugh with him.
11
There’s a chill in the air as the sun begins setting beyond the mountains in the far-off distance. I watch as it gets lower, wondering how long I can possibly wait before needing to leave. I look in the direction where I imagine Yackros is, wishing I could see him right now.
“Go, Alita. Be safe. I will be here when you return,” he commands kindly.
I nod, even with knowing he can’t see me. “I’ll be back tomorrow,” I say as a promise.
“I eagerly anticipate that time.” His voice is distant, fading.
I don’t say more, afraid I’ll tear up again. Instead, I just leave.
Mom and Dad are sitting in the front room, watching TV. I wave a quick hello and go to my room, setting the mythology books on the desk.
I snatch up my comfiest pajamas from the bed where I left them this morning and go to the bathroom. I carefully remove my shirt, looking at my back in the mirror. The bruising looks as ugly as ever, but it doesn’t hurt as badly to the touch.
I don’t know what was going on last night, but it was unbearable. Now it feels like a regular injury. Around the edges, lapsing over my sides, it’s red. I try not to think about it as I get in the shower.
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