by Toni Kerr
“I told you, she’s not my priority,” said Donovan.
“But while we’re here, we may as well take care of everything—”
“It’s okay, Tristan,” said Landon. “She’s with Alvi. I’ll just go get her when we land.”
Tristan let out his breath. “Okay. Good. I want her to describe the flower she needs to Dorian. Maybe she’ll know what it is, or where to find one, or how to plant one—” The plane tipped sharply and his stomach lurched. They seemed to plummet for a few seconds. “How much longer?”
“Not long. Pink will be so happy,” Landon said. “I know she’s been anxious about the possibility of never finding one.”
“I told you I was planning that, didn’t I?”
“No, but it’s a really nice idea. Very considerate.”
“How much longer?”
“A few minutes.”
“Theoretically, if we crash, let me swim. I don’t want to face the council again just yet.”
Victor laughed. “You can’t swim.”
“A boat, then. I’ll row. Or heck, put a motor on the dang thing.”
“Anything else?”
“A life jacket,” Tristan said between short breaths. “Where’s my staff?”
“We’re right here….” Landon and Victor said together.
“What?” Tristan opened his eyes and glared as they waved in unison. Donovan chuckled in the headset. “You aren’t staff. That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
Landon pointed to the wooden staff lying along the top of the bench seat next to Tristan. It was within reach and he clutched it tightly.
“This isn’t funny.”
“I’d advise you to get used to flying unless you want to face that council,” Donovan said. “And quite frankly, with your wingspan, I’d say you’d better get used to flying regardless of facing the council.”
Landon and Victor both agreed, nodding as though they hadn’t considered that.
“You can’t be serious. I can’t fly in public. People would see. I’d probably be shot down by the military as a threat to national security—” His voice squeaked into a scream as the plane jolted hard and skipped against the water surface. They were thrown forward as the speed slowed drastically. “A plane can’t possibly float. We’re going to sink—”
“Thank you for flying with Donovan Air,” Victor announced. “Please stay in your seats until the craft has come to a complete stop.”
Tristan nodded, trying to conceal his trembling hands. “No sneaking past Oliver in this thing. Do we have permission?”
“We do,” Donovan said. “Although, as you can imagine, he’s not happy.” The plane stopped moving. “Dorian’s not happy either, but I promised we’d take care of any pollution we put in the lake.”
“Figures.” Tristan rubbed his temples. “See? I told you this wasn’t a friendly social visit.”
“I believe she is only acting disagreeably because she doesn’t want Oliver to think she looks forward to seeing you.”
“Does she?”
Victor winked and Landon patted Tristan’s shoulder. “I’ll be back with Pink.”
“Please take a moment to collect yourself,” Donovan said. “I refuse to carry you.”
Tristan nodded gratefully. “That would be good. I don’t want her to—I mean, I can totally do this. I’m feeling pretty good actually.” Maybe he could survive without food?
“I’m giving you one hour.”
“That should be plenty of time. I’m sorry about the transportation problem. Dorian wouldn’t come to me?”
“She might have, but I don’t want Lazaro coming to the castle.”
“How much has this cost you? Whatever it is, I don’t know how I’ll ever repay it.”
“It’s not a problem. The helicopter has been mine for several decades, and I quite enjoy flying. Although now that I’ve flown myself, I might upgrade to something more accommodating.”
“But flying is so time consuming compared to transporting yourself wherever you need to go.”
“I find it relaxing. So often we don’t make time for sitting around, always questing for efficiency.”
Tristan nodded. “I’d like to talk to Dorian alone, if you don’t mind.”
Donovan shrugged on a suit jacket over his white dress shirt. “Oliver has prepared for our visit. There are nine men, or possibly women, with weapons surrounding the village. They’re heart rates are slightly elevated, but I feel it’s more nerves than fear.”
Tristan nodded and bowed his head. Nine people wouldn’t be enough to protect the village, but maybe enough to put him on the run if he shifted. “Where’s the cave from here?”
“Why do you want to know? The cave wasn’t in this arrangement.”
“If I shift, that’s where I’d go.”
“Northeast.”
Landon appeared in the plane and Pink leaped from his shoulder into the air, circling the area and coming to a stop on Tristan’s knee. “Are we in the city? Do I get to meet more people? Are we waiting?”
“This isn’t the city,” Tristan said, encouraged by her abundance of enthusiasm. “You have to stay hidden until I call you out, okay?”
Her wings drooped, then perked up again. “But not for too long, right? Or you wouldn’t have wanted me here, right?”
“I hope so. We don’t want anyone to know about you yet, so I have to make sure it’s safe before we introduce you. I think we can trust Dorian, but I don’t know about anyone else. And they’ll be watching everything we do.”
“Let’s move.” Donovan opened the airplane door and a ramp appeared as a walkway, curving slightly to meet the shoreline. “Victor on the left, Tristan in the middle, Landon on the right. I’ll be behind.”
Tristan stepped into the fresh air, relieved to be out of the plane and into the open. The rocky beach surrounded by various grasses and shrubs turned into a forking path: one leading to Dorian’s cabin on the right, the other straight up a slight hill to the village itself. Tall evergreen trees covered the hillsides. The water was deep enough to be over his head if he should fall, and he made a show of searching for signs of fish to justify moving at such a ridiculously slow pace.
Whispering cheers from the plants above and below water surrounded him. He tried to put a wall of silence around him, to no avail. At the end of the walkway, Dorian’s uncle, Eric, and Oliver were standing on either side of her. She finally got tired of waiting and dodged Oliver’s grasp to meet them in the middle.
She looked happy until she stopped a few feet in front of them. The whispers of plants hushed slightly.
“You shouldn’t have left Oliver,” Tristan said, though he was glad she was willing to risk the man’s anger.
“And you said you were doing better! What the heck is all this?” She waved a hand over him and he stepped back, bumping into Donovan. All of the plants were silent.
“No matter what happens, don’t touch me. It’s not safe.”
“Why?” Dorian planted her hands on her hips. “What illness do you have now? Is that the only reason you came?”
“Can we just get to shore first? Then I’ll explain everything.”
“No.”
“Look, Dorian. The last thing we want is for Oliver to think we might turn around and take you with us. So let’s just get to shore and have this meeting go smoothly. I promise if it goes well, you won’t regret it.”
“I’m sorry.” She frowned and rubbed her arms. “I’m in a bad mood.”
“What else is new?” Victor said under his breath. Before anyone could cringe, Dorian palmed him in the chest and he toppled backward into the water.
“Don’t!” Tristan’s eyes shifted instantly and he squeezed them shut. “Don’t touch Victor or Landon, either.”
“Easy,” said Donovan, caging Tristan with his arms from behind. “She’s not starting a war.”
Tristan knew this, logically, but the instinct to protect Victor had risen up his throat and couldn’t be t
amped back down. “This is a bad idea.” If Oliver’s people retaliated, Landon and Victor would fight to the death. For him. “I’m sorry. We should go.”
“I just spent a fortune of time and money to get you here, so right now, you are going to pull yourself together and have this conversation. On shore.” He glared at Dorian to turn around and she did.
Tristan took a few more calming breaths and refocused on his steps, ignoring the waves lapping against the wooden decking. The water should be the least of his concerns. When they reached rocky shore, there was a wooden table with six chairs.
“This is as far as you go.” Oliver stood firm with his arms crossed. “Have your conversation and be gone.”
Tristan dropped into a chair and leaned heavily on the staff. Thank goodness he didn’t have to walk all the way uphill to Dorian’s shop at the village.
She sat beside him. “All right, spill. You said you were doing better and this is not better.”
“What do you want from me? This is better. I’m walking, talking, and able to carry a coherent conversation.”
“But you’re starving to death.”
“That’s one of the things I need to talk to you about.”
“You’re impossible.” Dorian slammed her hands on the table and stood.
“Dorian, please.” Tristan glanced at all the people standing guard and longed for privacy. “What’s going on? You’re not usually this angry, and when we last spoke, you seemed willing to meet with me.”
Tears welled up in her eyes as she sat back down.
“You two spoke?” Oliver threw his hands into the air and walked away. “I don’t know why I bother.”
“Remember when we were in California?” asked Dorian.
“Yes. Are the plants recovering?”
“The ones I took are. But, right after we said goodbye, the rains came. Most of the plants and trees were washed away. People too. They’re still looking for survivors.”
“What?” Ominous dread tightened around his chest. “Just because of a little rain?”
“It wasn’t just a little rain. There was a mudslide and a small town in the valley below was practically buried.”
“But.” Tristan felt the air go thin and found it hard to think. “But…it wasn’t. It shouldn’t have.…”
“Tristan,” Landon said. “Don’t tell me you had something to do with the rain?”
“I was just…the plants were dying. I just thought a little water would, you know, be helpful.”
Everyone stared, speechless, until Donovan spoke up, addressing Oliver. “If you would like to show me this location, I’ll see if there are any survivors to be found.”
“Me, too.”
“You’re staying.” Donovan pressed a hand on his shoulder, keeping him in his chair.
“I’m not lured away so easily,” Oliver said, keeping his arms crossed. “I don’t buy the ‘savior’ role one bit.”
“Either I go with you, and we save whoever is left as quickly as possible, or, you can take Victor so he can show me when we’re done here, which puts off any rescue mission for at least an hour.”
“Do you really think you’re better at finding people than we are?”
“Yes.”
“Your arrogance astounds me.”
“Does it astound you enough to risk lives?” countered Donovan.
“Fine. Fifteen seconds. You can stay or come back after I’ve shown you the location.”
“So be it.”
Oliver vanished from sight.
“If I know Oliver,” Donovan said to Landon, “he’d rather save lives than come back to babysit.” He turned his attention to Tristan. “We’ll talk about this weather control later, and don’t do anything that’ll make Oliver or myself regret trusting you.”
Tristan grimaced as Donovan disappeared. Lives had been lost. Unsuspecting people, who were probably minding their own business, never suspecting a thing in the middle of a drought. Buried alive. He glanced up at Landon, certain he’d be feeling the same load of guilt.
“You can’t change the past,” Landon said. “You can only learn from it.”
Tristan nodded and risked a glance at Dorian. “I’m sorry.” The words felt pathetic in the grand scheme of things. He waited for her to lash out, to accuse him of mass murder, but she never did. The silence was overwhelming. “Why is this okay and killing people who are trying to kill you isn’t?”
“This wasn’t deliberate. You were trying to help.”
The plants became noisier, taking sides. The fact that some were on his side made it seem a little more sane. “It wasn’t deliberate in Ireland and I was trying to save your life!” Even more of the plants were on his side now.
“Tell me why you’re here.”
“You’re trying to change the subject.”
“So, you came to argue with me?”
“No. I didn’t. But apparently this is the only way we can talk to each other.” The plants were so loud now, he could barely hear himself think. “Will you all just…shut up?”
Victor and Landon glanced around, but didn’t say anything. Eric looked uneasy. The plants hushed obediently.
“I’m sorry. Can we have some privacy?”
“I’m afraid not,” replied Eric, standing just within earshot and no closer.
“Why are you starving yourself?” Dorian asked.
Tristan rubbed his forehead. I can’t eat.
Why not? The plants would give anything to—
That’s the problem! Tristan stared into Dorian’s eyes, pleading for her, of all people, to understand. I hear them talking to me. They’re happy and playful; how can I possibly chew them up and eat them?
“We don’t have all day,” Victor said, glancing at his watch. “Better get on with it.”
Dorian smiled and sat back down. “They want—”
Tristan shook his head quickly, warning her to keep silent. I’m sure they suspect, but I haven’t told them outright.
You can’t treat plants like people. Yes, they have feelings, and they do feel a type of pain, but they want to be part of the living cycle. When you eat something, its spirit gets to live in you for a time. It’s the ultimate experience for a plant, not only to provide your body with what it needs, but to also live in your experiences. Can you imagine how different your perceptions of the world are from a plant’s point of view?
But they’ll die!
Think of it as a circulating food chain. If a plant is chosen to be sustenance for something or someone, they have an opportunity to reach their highest potential and ultimate calling. They don’t die like we do, just like they don’t live like we do. Providing the means to live is a reward most plants can only dream of.
Tristan took in the words, but couldn’t tell if she was being serious with him or not the way she smiled. “That can’t be true.”
Dorian stood from the table with a loud huff of disbelief. “How many of you would like to be eaten by the dra—”
“Dorian!” Tristan watched the human shadows shift with apprehension in the forest, as a chorus of volunteers erupted from the landscape. Don’t say it out loud!
Fine. Sorry. You’re so sensitive. It’s not like they don’t know.
Don’t you get it? I know the plants know, but you just suggested I’d eat the people guarding you.
I guess I see your point, but I wasn’t talking to them. She held out her hand. “Come on. Let me show you something.”
Tristan stared at her waiting hand.
“You still don’t trust me?”
“It’s not that.”
“You can touch me first if you want,” offered Victor.
Dorian frowned. “Forget I asked.”
“Where do you plan to go?” Eric took a few steps forward, raising his hand to signal others.
“Just to the garden beside the house. You can come with. I don’t mind.”
Eric raised an eyebrow and motioned for them to continue toward Dorian’s cabin. “No go
ing inside.”
Dorian roller her eyes and sighed. “Can’t you walk any faster?” she finally said, about halfway to the house. “I’m surprised Donovan and Oliver aren’t back yet.”
Tristan ignored her, focused on keeping his momentum moving forward. They finally came to a rectangle of vegetables in neat rows. A chair appeared and Landon motioned for Tristan to sit.
“Seriously?” Dorian looked apologetic. “How long has it been since you’ve eaten anything?”
“I have no idea. A while.”
“Almost a month,” Victor said.
A cacophony of pleas and shouts forced Tristan to turn away. Dorian quickly selected three miniature tomatoes from a thick bush and displayed them for Tristan. “Listen carefully.”
Landon sucked in a breath. “Of course!”
“You can hear them?” Tristan asked, hoping beyond anything that it was true, even though he knew it wasn’t.
“No. But it makes perfect sense.”
“It does,” Victor added. “Is meat the same way?”
“I told you, I’m not eating meat.”
Dorian grimaced. “I don’t know about meat. I only hear the plants.”
Tristan studied the three bright tomatoes. They did seem happy to be chosen for the demonstration. “They’re anxious.”
“They don’t want to disappoint you.”
“How can you even say that? They’re living things!”
Dorian laughed. “They’re not people! They’re born to provide what they have for others. If they don’t provide something for another being, they can provide for the ground and hope for better luck next time. Get it?”
Tristan shook his head.
“Let’s say you and your friends are in line for one of those music concert things, and no matter where you are in the line, only five out of a thousand people will be chosen to get in. If you get picked, it’s the greatest glory in all of your life. If you don’t get picked, you’re sad, but you have patience and stay in line waiting for the next concert.”
“But they’re individuals, and this is their lives we’re talking about.”
“No. They are a collective energy with personality. They don’t live to be recognized for who they are, but if it helps, thank them for what they offer your body. They do appreciate being acknowledged and will respond even more favorably. I was telling Tynan the same thing the other day.”