No, Yackros told me what information was truth. I have to stop running myself in panicked circles and doubting everything. The pearl is at least real, and Ruxsiu is somehow corrupting it. I have to find the king so he can stop it.
Speculating isn’t helping me get any farther on this journey. I slide off the window seat and get my laptop. I sit on my bed, back against the wall, pulling the comforter over my legs. I open the computer and wait for it to boot up before opening the internet search bar, where I type in “dragon pearl of wisdom.”
The page loads, showing links to multiple sites all referring to the ancient myths regarding a dragon and the pearl of wisdom, a gift, the wealth it represents, and how some people think it meant knowledge, as in the dragon was given information, not a physical pearl.
Yackros didn’t clarify this, and I didn’t ask. But maybe I’m thinking about this all wrong. Are we talking about something only Fyazum could allow to be corrupted or remain protected? Is it literally in his head? Or is there an actual pearl, a physical gem, that I can rescue and repair?
Once corrupted, can it even be repaired? Once again, I’m left with more questions than answers, and no one to ask for the truth. Only Yackros could tell me, and it seems he doesn’t want to. He’s resigned himself to the fate dealt to him, to us. Until a week ago, I didn’t truly understand why Yackros didn’t want me in the forest, why he loved and hated having me near all at the same time.
It wasn’t until I almost died that I really began to understand the risk. I was in danger that whole time, and yet Yackros protected me. He made sure I stayed safe. Now it’s my turn to do the same for him.
Getting nowhere new with the pearl search, I direct my browser to the book Scales of Sea and Sky. Once again, it’s as though the book doesn’t even exist. Plenty of scale-related jewelry, art, costumes, and other knickknacks pop up. I type in “R. Ebony.” The search engine crosses out “R” and shows me everything ebony related.
“You’re useless,” I mutter and close the laptop. I reach over the edge of the bed, setting the laptop on the floor and lying down. Though protesting the idea of sleep when I could be researching, despite not finding anything useful so far, I allow my eyes to close and the nothingness to take over.
I know Yackros told me not to skip out on my life for him, but he doesn’t realize that he is my life. Without him, I have no meaning, no purpose. If I leave him to rot in the dark world Ruxsiu is creating, everyone will suffer because he won’t stop at the borders of Runavelius.
I have no problem driving past the school and instead, going to the library. The old woman isn’t at the desk, thankfully, because I’m not sure what I would say to her, but I don’t think I could keep quiet, either.
Instead, Cheryl is sitting at the counter with her phone in front of her face, the condensation from her Starbucks cup creating a pool of liquid on the table beside her, threatening to ruin the papers laying on the desk next to it.
I walk by, glad I don’t have to deal with the cranky old woman and her odd behavior. Like her interest in Max when he called. What was that all about?
Without thinking, I pull my phone from my pocket and open a text to Max.
At library. Skipping school. Meet me?
I grip my phone tightly, my heart not even daring to beat. Things have been so good between us the last few days, and even if he can’t be part of my research, the thought of having him nearby for support is at least a little strengthening.
But he doesn’t respond, so I assume he’s already silenced his phone for class. I’ll just have to get by on my own.
Or not.
The old librarian is sitting at my usual table, a book in front of her, glasses perched on her nose, wearing an outfit of pointy-toed boots, a black crushed-velvet skirt, a dark green button-down shirt, and a matching vest. Her dark gray hair is curled and done up in an extravagant bun with a large flower pinned to the side.
I’m stopped dead in my tracks, unsure what to do now. Surely she’s noticed that’s where I’ve been studying. What is she after?
I don’t know and I don’t want to play whatever weird game this is, so I turn and take the last empty table beside the windows along the other wall.
Despite just wanting to let it go, I can’t help but look over at my spot and wonder what she’s doing. I shake my head and turn my attention back to the books before me until I again have the inherent need to see what’s going on over there.
Is she taunting me? Does she know how uncomfortable this is making me? There’s a tightness in my chest. It feels like I’m suffocating. I’m being pulled—no, dragged to that chair. I don’t know why it’s so important or special. It really shouldn’t matter.
I chose it to be alone, cut off from prying eyes. But now it’s like my second home has been invaded.
“What’s so important that you’re skipping school for it?” asks a breathless voice.
I look up, so relieved. I jump up and throw my arms around Max’s neck. “Thank you for coming.”
“You’re welcome,” he says as he wraps his arms around me and holds me close. “You okay?”
When we break apart, I sit down and motion for him to sit beside me. “I’m kind of panicking and I wasn’t going to pull you away from school, but I guess I just couldn’t do this alone.” I shake my head. “I’m sorry.”
“Well, first, you know you can always come to me or have me come to you, no matter what. And I’m not really worried about school. That will end. How I feel about you never will.” He squeezes my hand.
“Thank you,” I say, blushing, and feeling almost normal again. “Max, I need you on my team. I can’t keep doing this alone.”
Max’s expression falls from ecstatic to disappointment in a heartbeat. “Is this about the dragons again?”
My stomach tightens. But I push forward. I hold his one hand with both of mine and look him in the eye. “I went to talk to Yackros last night up in the mountains. And someone followed me.”
“What?” Max bellows, garnering multiple “Shhh”’s from around the room.
“Listen,” I whisper, leaning in closer. “Please don’t freak out, but this has happened a couple of times now, plus the bullying. I just couldn’t take this battle on alone anymore, which is why I asked you to come here. I know you don’t believe in dragons, and I’m not asking you to change your mind right this second. I just . . . I just—” I can feel myself begin to hyperventilate. “Need a hand to hold,” I say quickly.
He looks at our clasped hands and sits in silence for a moment. I don’t say or do anything. I just let him take it all in. And when he’s ready, he looks up at me.
“Bullying?” he asks.
I bite my lip. But I mentioned it, so . . . “There have just been some kids at school making jokes about me and dragons. I didn’t even know about it at first, but it’s been growing.”
“Just tell them you don’t believe in dragons,” he says.
I grip his hand tighter. “I can’t lie.”
I don’t like to think that he’s a little amused, but there’s a tremor at the corner of his lips.
“Well, then,” he says, “I don’t really know how to help. If you feel threatened, maybe you should take some self-defense classes.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” another voice adds.
We both look up to see the librarian standing on the opposite side of the table, her arms behind her back, cheeks pulled up in a tight smile.
“You would have a lot to say about it,” I retort.
“Oh, dear girl. We need to talk.” Her brows furrow, her lips pinch, and somehow she still has a creepy smile on her face.
“What on earth could we possibly have to talk about?” I want to add more sarcastic comments, but nothing seems like it will do my emotions justice right now.
She looks pointedly at Max. “When he leaves, I’ll be glad to tell you that.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Max stands up, towering over her.
“You
want nothing to do with dragons. So why stay when that’s what we’ll be discussing?”
Max laughs openly.
I swallow hard.
“Come on, Alita. We don’t need anything this woman has to say.” He looks back, reaching out a hand for me to take.
I asked Max to come. I just poured my heart out to him about not wanting to be alone anymore. But as much as this woman terrifies me, I need to know what she has to tell me, and Max won’t let us talk about dragons.
I stand and rest my hand on Max’s forearm. He turns to me only slightly so he can still intimidate the librarian.
“I do,” I whisper. I know it’s all I have to say. He’ll be too hurt to want an explanation right now.
“Are you serious?” He’s already shaking his head.
I nod, unable to say more.
He stares a moment longer, looking between the two of us.
“So that’s how it is,” he says. “Enjoy your dragons.”
Before I can say anything, he storms out of the library. I don’t know what kind of permanent damage I just caused. I only hope it’s worth it.
The librarian looks smug.
“How dare you!” I say with all the fierceness I can muster. “What do you have against Max? You’re the one following me. Stalking me. And I’m supposed to trust that you care about my safety at all?”
“You don’t really want to know my feelings regarding Max. And I am not stalking you. I followed you because I needed to know that you were serious. And this wasn’t some twisted game.”
“What do you want?” I say, retreating behind the table again.
She watches me sit down, so focused, it makes me uncomfortable.
“Well,” she says, “for one, information about Runavelius.”
I cough, at first intending to clear my throat, but her words catch me off guard.
“What did you just say?” I look at her library name tag. “Rohesia.”
An odd-sounding name. Certainly uncommon. Her odd clothes stand out like a sore thumb. Especially given how hot they must be. No one from Arizona would wear them unless it was to a funeral, and even that’s questionable.
“You know what I said.” She pulls her glasses down a bit to look at me over the frames. “I’m sure the puzzle pieces are clicking in your head right now, but I can understand that you’re most likely suffering a great deal of pressure, unable to make sense of everything that’s happened in a short period of time. You’re looking for truth where there is none, and finding answers where only more riddles lay. But you came here and had no problem asking for books on dragons that weren’t fiction-based. You are a woman on a mission, and nothing is going to stop you. That’s good, because the road you’re on is a steep one. And it’s only going to get harder to climb from here. Are you ready for a little help?”
“You’re R. Ebony, aren’t you?” I fold my arms across my chest.
“I am.” She nods.
“So you know the truth? You’re aware that dragons are real?” I ask, hesitant to hope that I’m not alone after all.
“I am,” she repeats, grinning again. “I thought I was the only one. I’ve been on my own for so long—to have a young girl come in adamant on finding out about dragons, I could hardly breathe, fearing the worst, wanting the best, with no way of knowing what you were truly after. Was it a game to you? Did you know they existed for fact, and wanted proof? Or were you a fanatic only hoping to find some theory others would cling to?”
“And what convinced you that I was the real deal?” I lean forward.
“I thought giving you the book would be a good test, but it was challenging to be certain about your intentions when your responses bounced around like a whelp in flight.”
“In my defense,” I say flatly, “you creeped me out.”
“I’m sure even more so when I followed you.” She smiles. “Did you know I’ve been in Arizona longer than it’s been a state, and I was never able to find the other dragons? Once I lost my dragon, it all seemed hopeless. But because our bond remains alive, so do I. And here I am. Waiting. Watching. Hoping for a sign. I never expected it would be a teenage girl.” She shifts in her seat, seemingly looking me over.
There’s so much about what she just said that I can’t wrap my head around. So many things to ask about. I go in the same order she did. “Why did you follow me?”
A simple nod. “Your behavior suggested there was far more to you than the reading. I needed to know if I was right. And you did in fact lead me in the direction I had hoped for. You were speaking to your dragon who remains in Runavelius, yes?” Her forehead wrinkles up.
“Yes, though now I’m concerned for his safety even more than before. If you could follow me out there, anyone could. Who’s to say someone else won’t, and then they discover the truth? What if I bring war down on all of us again?” My breathing becomes uneven.
My palms are clammy, sweat beading on my forehead. What have I done?
“My dear, calm down.” Rohesia reaches out, taking my hand in hers. “It’s okay. I only know what was going on because I know of dragons. Anyone who didn’t already know the truth would have seen a teenage girl talking to herself. Hardly remarkable.” She sighs. “Besides, the war never ended. It just changed.”
I rub at my eyes, trying to clear away some of the panic and tiredness taking over. “Okay, next question. How in the world can you look so young and yet claim to be so old?”
“I believe you already know the answer to that. I told you that my bond with my dragon remains intact. Therefore, I age at the same rate as he. Should I live long enough to die from old age, I will be here for at least a couple thousand years more. Assuming my dragon’s well, given his circumstances. Though I suppose I shouldn’t hope for the best. I’ll only be met with disappointment.” Her eyes kind of glaze over, like she’s lost in a memory.
“Who is your dragon? How is it that you didn’t know where Runavelius is?” I want to ask more, but I’m trying not to drown her in questions because I really want answers.
Rohesia clears her throat. “Alita, I wasn’t aware of Runavelius’ location because I’ve never been there. It was put into place before we came here. And after the war began, we never made it that far.” She clears her throat, tears welling in her eyes. She dabs at them with a napkin that seemingly appeared out of nowhere. “He was taken. I tried to find the others to help, but every trace of dragons had disappeared, as if they were never here.”
A chill runs through me.
“Rohesia,” I whisper. “Your dragon—what is his name?” I close my eyes, waiting for her to say it, but I already know. How could it be anything other than—
“King Fyazum.”
It feels like I’ve been trapped in this moment. Everything is slow and quiet while I contemplate this. Truly think about it, piecing everything together. It all makes so much sense, and yet opens all new questions.
At least this means he’s alive.
My first impulse is to run for the mountain, to tell Yackros immediately—but I force myself to remain seated. I take a deep breath. “Do you know where the king is?”
“Shhh.” She holds her index finger to her lips, looking around, probably to make sure no one is listening to us. “We have already said too much out in the open. Come with me.” She takes hold of my elbow, pulling me out the door with her, directly to her truck.
“No,” I say, pulling away from her grasp. “Where are we going?” I want to believe her. To believe she is on my side. But I don’t know with certainty that she can be trusted.
“To my house. Would you prefer to follow me in your own car?” she asks, perhaps understanding why I’m backing away.
“Yes,” I say, nodding.
“Very well. But hurry.”
We each get in our own vehicles and I follow after her, my mind reeling.
We’re sitting in Rohesia’s kitchen in a house I’m pretty sure most people think is abandoned. It doesn’t look like anyone is here, it do
esn’t seem inviting, and on the inside, it isn’t all that clean. But it’s perfect for privacy, I suppose.
I know I shouldn’t be surprised that the king of dragons is bound to the only other person I’ve found who knows of their existence at all. I was expecting it the moment I connected the dots. But it still seems crazy. There are so many things I want to ask her, but I don’t even know where to start.
I’m still in too much shock to have a good response to any of the information this woman wants to dump on me.
King Fyazum’s bond. Until Yackros mentioned it, I never considered Fyazum’s human would be alive. I certainly never suspected she’d be living in Benson.
Yackros and I discussed the humans left behind when Runavelius came to be. The humans couldn’t follow. I imagined it would be the same all over the world, meaning there are at least hundreds of people living today who lived two hundred years ago.
If Fyazum had made it to Runavelius, what would have happened to Rohesia? Did the king’s command to go into hiding even extend to his own human?
And if I save him, will he stick to that command—will Yackros and I still be forced apart?
“Alita? Hello?” A hand waves in front of my face. I look up. Rohesia frowns. “Are you listening to me at all?”
“I’m sorry. What did you say?” I ask, knowing fully that I wasn’t even trying to focus.
“I need you to tell me how you came across the dragons. What happened? Who are you bound to? Or has a bond been formed for you? Tell me your dragon story.”
“I’m sorry, but I think I need to know your story first. I mean, seriously, you’re bound to the king. How are you here? What happened that he never made it to Runavelius? You realize that I was tasked with finding and rescuing him, right?”
“No, dear. I didn’t realize that, mostly because you haven’t told me. How did you find the dragons? What led to you being sent on this mission? Once you’ve told me that, we can go over my story. Deal?”
“Okay, deal.” I nod.
I proceed to tell her in great detail how I found Yackros at the age of three, and then again at fifteen. The teasing, mocking, and stern words regarding the existence of mythical creatures. Every visit with Yackros and occasionally Guthrie, to the night I almost died. I tell her how I got injured and Max tried to help, but had questions, leading to my confession, and him refusing to believe me. She looks at me as though she has questions, but I don’t let her interrupt me.
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