by Krista Rose
Kylee yanked her arm from my grip, her eyes hot and angry. “You haven’t seen him in twenty damn years, and I lived with him my whole life. You don’t know anything about him.” Her chin tilted up, daring him. “And, for the record, I didn’t want anything to do with your fucking family.”
“You bitch.” He raised a hand. “I ought to-”
“NO.”
Kryssa’s voice was booming, and I winced at the sudden pain of it. I heard gasps and cries from the others in the room as they doubled over, her voice pierced into their minds. Mychael sagged to his knees and whimpered, clutching his head. Brannyn was standing beside our sister, his hands coated in flame, his eyes filled with fury.
Amandine was obviously shaken, but managed not to crumple beneath the weight of Kryssa’s mind. “Enough.”
Kryssa looked at her, wordless understanding passing between them before she nodded. The pain vanished. I tensed, waiting for Kryssa to collapse from entering so many minds- but though she was pale, she looked fine, and faced our family with a serene expression.
Mychael gasped for air.
She looked at him. “I am sorry for that, but no one touches my family.”
Brannyn slanted a look at Kylee. Not even when they might deserve it.
She glared, but didn’t say anything, folding her arms over her chest.
“Get… out,” Mychael managed through gritted teeth, looking up. “Monster.”
Amandine raised a brow. “You did attack them first, Mychael. Even though they are guests in my home.”
He muttered, and climbed to his feet to stagger from the room.
“I am sorry,” Kryssa repeated quietly when he had gone. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Amandine waved a hand, dismissing her apology. Her gaze was focused on Brannyn’s burning hands. “You did not tell us you were a Firemage.”
“I’m not.” He lowered his hands, and the flames died. “I just have a small talent for fire.”
“Fire runs in the blood of the Roses.” Her lips turned up at the corners, her green eyes amused as she held up a hand. “Did you not wonder why I am called the Dragon?” Orange flames bloomed in her palm, flickering into the form of a fiery rose.
We gaped, astonished.
“Gavor of the Rose was a Firemage,” she murmured quietly. “His gift runs in our family. Your family.”
And, like that, we were suddenly accepted. The rest of the room surged around us, surrounding us in names and noise, everyone speaking over each other as they introduced themselves. Bewildered, we stared at them, speechless, unsure if we should stay or flee.
I was pushed and pulled across the room, faces blurring in my vision. I found myself at the edge of the crowd, near Elias, who had leaned against a wall. He raised a brow at me, a question in his eyes.
“What?” I asked bluntly.
He glanced across the room, to where Kryssa knelt, quietly talking to Amandine. “What is she?”
I shrugged. “She’s my sister.”
“She’s more than that.” He looked back at me. “You’re all more than that, aren’t you?”
We’re the chosen of the Gods. I shook my head. “You didn’t tell us Gavor was a Firemage as well as a knight.”
“Family secret. Great Mages are immediately made nobility upon discovery.” He rolled his eyes. “Gavor hated nobility.”
“Hmm.”
“Amandine is one of the few who have his gifts. When I was little, I always imagined she secretly slipped out at night and hunted down monsters. Can’t you just see her scaring them back into the holes they crawled out of?”
“She is rather fierce,” I agreed.
“She reminds me of your sister.” He grinned at my flat look, and raised his hands in innocence. “I’m not looking like that. It’s just something I noticed. Kryssa makes me think of warriors and battles and staring into an abyss unafraid. I could never picture her living quietly on a farm, in any case.”
“Why didn’t you tell us about the inheritance?”
“I didn’t think you’d actually want it. I can’t really see any of you living happily on a farm.”
“We were raised on one,” I reminded him. “We can do it.”
“Oh, I have no doubt of that. I believe there’s very little you couldn’t do, if you all put your minds to it. I just can’t see you being happy about it.”
I gazed across the room at my brothers and sisters, trying to imagine returning to our duties on the farm- and couldn’t. We had grown past it somehow in the last year, becoming more. Whatever our future held for us, it did not involve tilling fields or mending broken plows.
Kylee met my eyes, her face desperate as a balding, middle-aged man crowded too close to her. Help me. Kryssa says I’m not allowed to be mean to anyone, but he smells like onions.
I sighed, and went to save my twin.
KRYSSA
I needed a breath of fresh air. I waited until no one was looking, then slipped out a side door into an empty hall. A pair of lace-curtained doors were at one end, and I walked toward them, hoping that they led outside.
They opened onto a balcony overlooking a pretty lake surrounded by old trees, and I smiled gratefully.
Then I spotted Mychael, standing at the rail.
He glared at me balefully, his shoulders taut with anger. “I’ve got nothing to say to you.”
I took a deep breath. I had wanted to wait until later before I confronted him, but since he was here… “That’s alright. You’ll listen better if you’re not screaming at me.”
His face darkened. “Your whore mother should have taught you better manners.”
I stared at him coolly. “If she’d lived, I’m sure she would have. She died when I was six.”
He flushed with shame, his eyes dropping. “I- I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”
I walked toward him, leaning on the rail beside him. “There’s a lot of things you don’t know. Twenty years is a long time. Things change.”
He swallowed. “What do you want?”
I stared out at the lake, watching the way the sunlight reflected on the dark water. “You helped them. When no one else would bless their union, you gave them money and a wagon so they could elope.”
“How did you-” He shook his head. “Right. The mind thing. What else did you see?”
“That was it. I wasn’t really looking.”
“You shouldn’t poke into other people’s heads like that. It’s rude.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Ha.”
“Why did you help them?” I persisted.
He sighed, the anger draining out of him as he leaned on the rail beside me. “No point in lying to you, is there? You can just pull the thoughts out of my head.”
“I’d rather hear it.”
“Malachi was my little brother. You understand that, right? You’re the eldest, if I’m not mistaken.”
“Yes. I understand.”
“Is there anything you wouldn’t do to make sure they were happy? Any mountain you wouldn’t climb, and ocean you wouldn’t swim? They wanted to get married. They were in love. I thought-” He broke off, taking a deep breath. “I always thought they would come back.”
“I think he would have, if he could.” I hesitated. “When- when my mother died, part of him did, too. I don’t think he remembered anything else except her.”
Mychael shook his head. “Love is a burden, isn’t it? They write all these songs and stories about it, but it kills more people than a war.”
“Yes,” I murmured, and thought of Vitric. My heart ached. I looked back out at the lake. “Love is an awful thing.”
BRANNYN
“-And that’s when my fourth husband left me for the sea, and we never heard from him again. Went down in a hurricane, you know, right off the coast of Tante. They have dreadful weather down there, but the most amazing skill with these little glass beads-”
“Ah, there you are, Brannyn.” I looked away from the tiny
woman who had cornered me as Elias appeared at my side and took my elbow. “Aunt Eremaude, you won’t mind if I borrow him for a bit, will you? Great-Aunt Amandine wants to talk to him.”
“Of course not, dearie. Let the Dragon have her say.” She patted my cheek. “When you come back, I’ll tell you all about my fifth husband and the shaman’s curse he brought on us.”
“Ah- that would be wonderful, ma’am.” I hoped my face didn’t reveal my true feelings. “Until later.”
“Come on, Brannyn. Mustn’t keep the Dragon waiting.” He pulled me away.
“Would it be inappropriate for me to kiss you right now?” I murmured out the side of my mouth.
“The family might ask some questions, but they’ve asked them before. Usually right after one of the cousins gets married.” He grinned at me. “Didn’t enjoy your visit with Aunt Eremaude, then?”
“How many husbands has she had?”
“Truthfully? None. She’s mad as a pixie on fairy dust. She lives with Uncle Rumer in a nice, soft room, filled with those dozen-for-a-copper romances. We only let her out for parties.”
I stared at him, wide-eyed. “What? Really?”
“Not every Rose is pretty,” he told me with a completely straight face, “but we all have our charms.”
I glanced over my shoulder at Eremaude. “If you say so.” I finally noticed the direction he was taking me. “I thought you said the Dragon wanted to talk to me?”
“Great-Aunt Amandine may want to talk to you again- at some point. Honestly, you’re thick as a stump if you haven’t figured out this was a rescue by now.”
I laughed, and some of the tension drained out of me. “Thank you.”
“I think your eyes were starting to glaze over.”
“A bit. Are you rescuing all of us, then? Or just me?”
“Well, you are my guests. Though I haven’t seen Kryssa in a while.”
I glanced around, frowning. Kryssa?
I’m outside on the balcony, talking to Mychael. We’ll be inside in a bit.
Mychael? Kryssa, is that- But she had already shut me out, her shields too thick for her to hear me.
I made a face. “She’s outside.”
“That is the strangest thing.” He was looking at me curiously. “Whenever I ask one of you where another is, you all get this far-off look in your eyes, and then tell me the answer immediately.” He shook his head before I could figure out what to say. “So, Kryssa’s outside, you said? Then why do you look so worried?”
“She’s with Mychael.”
“Well, that’s dangerous, but not really fatal. Mychael has a temper, but he’s not cruel or violent. This is the first time in my whole life I’ve ever seen him raise a hand to strike someone. It’s probably to do with the grief. He and Malachi were very close when they were young.” He glanced at my face. “Kryssa will be fine.”
My father loomed in my memory. “You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.” He put a hand on my shoulder, drawing me to a stop. “Look, whatever happened before, whatever Malachi did- It’s not our fault, understand? We’re family. You just have to give us a chance.”
“We’re trying.” I managed a small smile. “We just haven’t had a whole lot of success with it so far.”
He shook his head. “Have I ever told you about Uncle Benjemen, Gavor’s youngest son? He was Great-Aunt Amandine’s father.”
I slowly shook my head. “I don’t think so.”
“Uncle Benny had the worst luck of anyone you’ve ever met. When he was ten, his arm got broken when a lamp fell on him. When he was sixteen, he got run over by an unhitched wagon. Damn thing rolled down a hill because a rabbit pushed it, if you can believe it. When he was twenty, he accidentally blew up half a barn trying to distill his own whiskey.”
I chuckled. “He certainly sounds unlucky.”
“He was.” Elias grinned. “His whole life was like that, accident following disaster. If he stepped in a puddle, you could be certain he would sink up to his neck. And I asked him one time why he thought all these bad things happened to him.”
“What did he say?”
“He looked right at me, and shrugged. ‘Does it matter, Elias? Bad stuff will always happen. It’s how we deal with it that counts.’ ”
“I get your point.” I shook my head. “So, what happened to him?”
“Oh, he died in the outhouse during our Midsummer fete. Chax helped us find him, or he might have been out there till the next morning.”
“Chax?”
“His pet chicken. Thought it was a dog. Used to follow him everywhere, trying to bark. Strangest thing you’ve ever seen.”
I laughed. “You’re making that up.”
“It’s the truth. I swear on Yrisa, may Sirius strike me down.” He slanted a look at me as my laughter died off. “I know you haven’t had the easiest life,” he murmured. “But we are family. We’ll do what we can to help.”
“Thanks, Elias.” I smiled at him warmly. “I’m glad we met you.”
“Me, too.” He glanced up. “Ah, Felice. It’s good to see you. Have you met Brannyn?”
The young, blonde woman smiled prettily, her blue eyes warm and friendly. “I don’t believe so. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Brannyn. Tanner speaks highly of you.”
“He probably exaggerates.”
She laughed, a charming, musical sound, and leaned forward to kiss my cheek. “Welcome to the family.”
Elias squinted across the room. “Kryssa’s returned.” His expression turned pained. “And Uncle Farius is making a dash for her. We should probably save her before he tries to convert her to heathenism.”
“Farius?” I frowned as I stared across the room at the tall, dark-haired man walking toward my sister. I didn’t recognize his face. “Why do I know that name?”
“He’s Fallor’s atheist,” Felice explained, a smile on her lips. “He screams at the Temple on Starsdays, tries to convince people heaven isn’t real. Embarrasses us horribly.”
Elias grinned. “So naturally we invite him to all the parties. Gives everyone something to talk about later.”
I glanced between the two of them. “I really can’t tell if you’re joking or not.”
“I never joke about the family. Mostly because I don’t need to.” He jerked his head. “Come on, let’s go save your sister.”
I shook my head, laughing, and followed.
BRANNYN
16 Narens 578A.F.
They renamed the tavern The Laughing Dragon.
Personally, I thought the name in bad taste, but the townspeople insisted, erecting the sign outside of the hastily rebuilt building, a yellow, smiling dragon winding its tail through the letters. The dragon I had seen had been neither yellow nor smiling, but I kept my mouth shut, grateful at least that the people of Fallor were in better spirits with the tavern open again.
I had joined Kryssa in her search for the creatures when I had spare time, hoping to ease the memory of Baedon’s glassy, staring eyes that haunted my sleep. We poured through hundreds of books in Fallor’s library, many of them written in strange, foreign scripts, and grew steadily more frustrated when we still had no answers.
We traded off Starsdays between our two families, spending one weekend with our prickly Grandfather Moon, and the next at Rose Manor. The second time we visited our father’s family, Great-Aunt Amandine threw us a picnic, held on the shores of the manor’s lake. The day was perfect, warm and bright beneath an azure sky, the lake glittering like a diamond as the youngest children splashed and played in its shallows. The Dragon herself presided over us from a high-backed chair, managing to look serene and regal despite the drooling infant on her knee.
I lay on my back on a blanket, staring up at the clouds, the sound of conversation swirling around me as I relaxed. Elias sat with us, his eyes bright and amused as he twirled a blade of grass between his fingers.
“Great-Aunt Amandine wants to commission me a dress,” I heard Kryssa say, her voice torn bet
ween amusement and dismay. “She says breeches aren’t becoming of a Rose woman.”
Elias leaned back on his elbows. “Don’t hit me,” he began, glancing at Kylee, “but why do you wear breeches? I mean, they’re obviously practical, but…”
“Does there need to be another reason?” Kylee asked before biting into a turkey leg.
“Breeches are easier to mend,” Kryssa answered more gently. “They also require less fabric to make.”
“And they’re easier to fight in,” Kylee added.
“But doesn’t it bother you? What people think?”
Kylee’s eyes narrowed. “And what do people think?”
Elias shrugged, obviously uncomfortable. “Well, you know. People talk.”
“About?”
“What Elias is trying to say is that people think you want to be men,” I said bluntly, sitting up. “That’s the rumor anyway.”
My sisters looked at each other, and began to laugh.
“I don’t want to be a man!” Kylee gestured to her clothing. “This is comfortable. How am I supposed to ride a horse in a dress?”
Our cousin flushed. “I didn’t mean-”
“It’s alright, Elias.” Kryssa’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “We gave up caring what people thought a long time ago.”
He still seemed embarrassed. “I really didn’t mean-”
“BRANNYN!”
I looked over my shoulder. Tanner was running toward us at full-speed, his eyes wide and frantic. I stood, frowning. “Tanner? What are you doing here?”
He drew to a halt in front of me, gasping for air. Despite the sweat that poured from his skin, his face was pale and terrified, and his eyes were glassy with shock. He trembled, stuttering, unable to speak.
Kryssa shoved a glass of water into his hand, and poured the rest of the pitcher over his head.
He gasped.
I took him by the shoulders, gave him a brief shake. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Felice,” he managed at last. “She’s missing.”
I thought of my pretty cousin with her friendly blue eyes. “Are you sure?”