by Katie French
Mercedes gripped my hand hard. “Lila, did you hear what I said? About your dad?”
I nodded, still mulling over the caves I’d seen in Summers Lake. If Dad was in one of those, would the ring tell me? My other hand clasped over it, hoping for a sizzling heat, but feeling nothing. But if I got closer—
“Lila, you need to stay away. I’m telling you. They’re… horrible.” Mercedes lips trembled as her face tightened, letting me know she was reliving her captive moments. Tears welled in her eyes again.
I squeezed her hand in a way I hoped was comforting. “Mer, listen to me. You’re safe. They aren’t going to touch you again.”
She smeared tears across her mocha-colored cheeks. “How can you b-be so sure?”
A fire blazed in my heart at the sight of my strong, sassy friend reduced to this. No one was going to hurt her again.
“Because I’m going to make sure.”
“What are you going to do?” Her eyes searched mine.
The less she knew, the better. “I’m just so glad you’re alive.” Pressing her into a hug, I stood up. I had to go. She was safe, but Dad was still out there in the clutches of some monster.
“You’re going to look for him,” she whispered.
I didn’t answer. “I’ll tell your parents they can come back in.”
“Be careful,” she moaned, gripping her sheets. “Oh God, Lila.”
I gave her one more squeeze, but I couldn’t let her try to talk me out of going. If they had him, it was up to me to do something about it. I was this warden after all, whatever that meant.
After I left her room, I gave Mrs. Truman a pat on the arm before leaving the hospital. I didn’t want anyone else to notice my exit. The less people who knew, the less likely the dragons, or whomever was watching me, would know what I was up to.
But once I got in my car, my plan seemed as thin as the first crackle of lake ice. Of all the caves in all the world, would I be able to find the right one? And once I did, what exactly did I think I would be able to do to stop huge, mythical creatures?
The sword. It had to be at the bottom of my lighthouse for a reason.
So, a pit stop was in order. And coffee. If I was going to engage in mortal combat with gigantic beasts, a latte had to be in my future.
I drove home at ten miles over the speed limit, hoping all the cops were busy with our town catastrophe. Luck was on my side because I saw very few cars on the way.
The crunch of gravel under my tires was usually a great relief, but not today. My eyes locked on the lighthouse and the vacant, neglected wick up top. It hadn’t been lit in at least two nights now. Did the city council know? Would they care? I couldn’t worry about getting evicted when Dad’s life was on the line. I’d just have to hope the current events would keep the council and their prying eyes elsewhere until things settled down.
Our house came into view next. The sight of Dad’s Jeep still parked on the slab twisted a knife in my gut. Knowing he was in some dark cave locked up because of me had to be one of the worst feelings in the world. I pinched the bridge of my nose, forcing the tears back where they came from. I needed to focus on finding him, then taking revenge. That sword would feel good in my ready hands.
Get pissed, Lila. Get even.
As I slipped into the house, Pickles met me at the door, meowing his head off. I filled his bowl to bursting and made sure he had clean water. He wriggled around my legs, yowling angrily, demanding attention.
“I’m sorry,” I said, “but you’re just going to have to fend for yourself for a while, bud. Dad needs rescuing.”
His yellow eyes were unforgiving. Pickles cared about food and neck scratches. He didn’t concern himself with abductions and dragons. At least there was comfort in some things never changing. I gave him a pat and cracked open a can of tuna for him. With his needs taken care of, mine were next. Quickly, I threw some protein bars, a water, and a refrigerated coffee drink in a bag, then set them by the door to grab on my way out. Then I made a beeline for the lighthouse.
The gravel crunched under my feet, and the gulls cawed as they banked on air currents above. I wondered if Fernando was up there looking down at me. But thinking of anyone or anything watching from above sent a chill over my body. Were there only gulls in the skies or something more sinister? Alert for anything suspicious, I ran the distance between the house and the lighthouse as fast as I could. When I hit the small landing before the entrance door, I felt slightly better.
Fumbling around for my keys, I put my hand on the knob. The door pushed open.
It was unlocked. My heart seized. I knew I’d locked it this time since I’d found such an important item down below.
Had someone been here?
Fear tripping down my spine, I pushed the door open and clicked on the light.
The vestibule was undisturbed. There were my indoor shoes, the spare flashlight, and the can of lamp fuel. Yet, there was something about the air that made it feel disturbed, as if someone had been here recently. Swinging around, I half expected someone to jump out and pound me, but the space was empty.
I strode over to the intertwined dragon markings, and pressed my ring-wearing hand to the brick. My finger heated up at the same moment as the grinding of rock signaled the secret passage opening. Turning around, I snagged the flashlight and aimed it down at the ancient stairs. No one jumped out from here either, but that didn’t ease my nerves. What I wouldn’t give to have the sword in my hand now. I should’ve grabbed Dad’s tire iron, but it was too late now.
Sucking in a huge breath, I took the stairs as fast as I could without falling headlong to the bottom, my light barely keeping up as I circled down and down.
If someone was here, they’d hear me coming. For good or ill, I’d face them, sword or no sword.
But when I made my last turn, there was no one there waiting to brain me and drag my body into the abyss. Imagine my surprise.
I hurried into the drippy cavern and past the deep, dark pool, heading straight for where I’d left the sword. One more turn and I’d be able to see the alcove with the chest. I’d open it, and it would be there waiting for me. And I’d figure out how to use it somehow, then I’d find the cave and—
I made the turn as someone was coming out. Our bodies collided.
I screamed and stumbled back, losing my footing and my flashlight. It hit the stone, bouncing a few times, and then rolling around, causing light to dance wildly around the room. I scrambled for it as footsteps thundered away. Whoever had been down here wasn’t coming after me. He was running away from me.
When the flashlight was in my hand, I pointed it at the sound of retreating footsteps, catching a male figure, but more importantly, seeing my sword in his hand.
“Hey, that’s mine!” I yelled, scrambling up.
The figure turned toward me.
“Tom?”
Luminescent blue eyes glanced in my direction before turning away from the brightness of my beam. It was him all right. Dirty, disheveled, and looking like he hadn’t slept in three days, Tom Palmer was in my lighthouse, trying to make off with my sword. His Nike shirt was torn, and his curls were tousled. My eyes landed on his mud-covered bare feet.
“Put that down,” I said, walking toward him. “It doesn’t belong to you.”
He gripped the sword hilt, the expression on his face a complicated one to read. He chose his words carefully. “The sword doesn’t belong to you either, Lila. Just let me go. It’s for the best.”
“What are you doing here? This is my house, my property…” Then a realization hit me in the chest like a wrecking ball. Anger and rage flooded into my body like a torrent. “Did you take him, Tom? Was it you?”
He took a step away from me, closer to the pool. “Did I take who? I don’t know what you’re talking about, and I think maybe you might need some rest after all you’ve been through.”
“Did you take my father?” I screamed, losing all control.
Tom’s eyes were blaz
ing blue now, the pupil’s slitted like that night in the woods, so unnatural. Yet, it didn’t faze me anymore. “God, you just won’t do what’s good for you or your family. Just like your mother.”
“What about my mother?” I hissed, taking another step toward him. There was a burning on my ring finger that I ignored, channeling my rage at Tom. “Did you take her away, too?”
Tom flinched like I’d hit him, his head tilting to the side as if to ward off a blow. When he looked at me next, his face held more pity than the snarky antagonism he normally exuded. “Lila, I’m going to be straight with you. You can’t win this. Even if your mother were still the warden, you couldn’t win this. My mother and her den are unstoppable.”
“My mother was a warden?” I said, latching onto that detail like a lifeline. I’d suspected as much, but with the fact laid bare, it made my mind reel.
“Hear what I’m saying. My mother will kill your father. She will tear him to pieces if you don’t do as she says. And there’s nothing I can do to stop her.”
“But maybe I can. I am the warden now, right?”
“You don’t even know what that means!” he said in frustration.
“But you do. Tell me,” I demanded.
“It’ll just fuel your craziness. Trust me when I say that if you leave everything alone, your father will be returned to you unharmed… after a time.”
“After a time? How long? And what about the others?”
Tom sucked in sunken cheeks. “I don’t know.”
“You’re useless. Give me the sword.” I charged forward.
“No,” he said, pulling it away as he stepped toward the pool. “Leave it be. You can’t wield it anyway.”
He pulled it back as I reached for it. My ring hand latched onto his wrist.
A jolt of lightning shot from my hand into his body. Electricity coursed through my veins, a burning that began in my fingers and traveled outward. He jolted, all his muscles tightening, a cry emitting from his throat. His body went as rigid as the sword that fell from his hand and clattered to the stone floor.
I took a step back, staring at the ring in horror. At the smoke rising from it. My hand didn’t hurt. It should be burnt to a crisp—charred stumps where my fingers were—but the skin was fine. I was undamaged.
I couldn’t say the same for Tom.
He lay prone on the stone floor, groaning.
Panicked, I knelt beside him. His skin was a translucent blue, and there was a heat coming off him that scared me. “Tom, are you okay? Tom?”
A low moan escaped his lips. Slowly, his eyelids fluttered open, revealing dimly glowing eyes. When he saw me over him, he jerked back, his eyes burning brighter.
“Stay away from me.” Skittering back, he lurched up and ran to the pool. I heard a splash. Would he drown himself just to get away from me?
“Tom!” I pointed the flashlight at him. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry.”
But he wasn’t paying attention to me. He was… changing.
With his back to me, I couldn’t see his face, but I could see his body. His flesh was the deep blue I had seen in the woods. Steam rose from his body as it trembled and expanded. Fabric ripped, first at the seams around his shoulders, and then at his thighs as they tore out his tattered pants. His height rose from six feet to seven, eight, nine feet as his legs elongated and thickened. Back hunching, protrusions punched out of his shoulder blades—starting as nubs but growing into wings that extended out. They unfurled like gigantic kites, stirring the air around us. More knobs grew out of his spine and something longer ripped out the seat of his pants. A tail shot out, swishing over the stone.
It all happened in a matter of seconds. First, Tom was there. Then a giant blue dragon stood in his place. I’d seen it all happen and yet, I couldn’t believe it. But there it was in plain sight, his long knobby tail and the giant clawed feet with webbing between the toes.
Webbed feet? That sparked a memory I couldn’t pin down with all the insanity swirling around in my head.
I wanted to stare at this dragon forever, but he whirled on me.
His face was as beautiful and fearsome as I could have imagined—the elongated snout, the knobby protrusions, twisted horns that angled out on either side. But it was his eyes, the glowing blue irises, that let me know Tom was still in there.
“Tom?” I said, holding out a hand and stepping forward.
The dragon pulled his head back, opening his mouth to show razor-sharp teeth. A throaty growl let me know to come no closer. I stared at the dappled blue tongue that was now nearly as big as my body.
“Tom, please. We can help each other.”
He closed his mouth, tilting his head as if considering my offer. Then he turned and dove into the dark pool with barely a ripple.
I ran to the edge of the pool, shining my flashlight into the murky water, but Tom Palmer was gone.
Chapter Sixteen
Tom Palmer had shifted into a dragon right in front of my eyes. The image of his expanding shape played in my mind on constant repeat and still I had to fight the voice in my head that said none of it was real.
I twirled the ring on my finger, remembering how it had repelled Tom. The more I found out about it, the more complicated it all seemed. The ring and the sword belonged to the warden, but why? What was their purpose?
I lifted my head, stared at the woods through the passenger side window of my Mustang. There were two hours of daylight left, and I was determined to look for Dad.
My mother will kill your father. She will tear him to pieces if you don’t stop, Tom had said.
Tara Palmer was responsible for this. I had figured out as much, but now I had confirmation from her own son.
Her son. A dragon.
Did that mean Tara Palmer was also one?
Mercedes had talked about a dragon that she’d called a female. She said her name was ancient, and I was lucky to see her true form and not die.
It had to be Tara Palmer. She was behind all of this, and I couldn’t say I was surprised.
Tom’s warning was hard to ignore. It was obvious he believed his mother would let Dad live if I stayed out of this, but I didn’t trust that woman farther than I could throw her.
I couldn’t leave Dad’s life in her hands. She was the kind of person who strapped innocent dogs to metal tables, then buried them in her backyard when they died.
A shiver made its way up my spine, a stream of sinister scenarios coming to life inside my head.
I didn’t want to imagine my friends or my father with tubes sticking out of their necks while Tara Palmer hovered over them with a wicked glint in her cold blue eyes, licking her lips as if they were food!
Had she taken my friends to turn them into dragon snacks? I had no idea what a creature Tom’s size ate, but even a whole person didn’t seem enough. Or could he eat a hamburger in his human form and then be full as a dragon?
Shaking my head to chase away my insane thoughts, I got out of the Mustang, sword in hand. There’d been a leather scabbard at the bottom of the chest, and the sword now rested inside, keeping me safe from the sharp blade.
That the edge was still sharp was an absolute mystery, same as the fact I intended to wield it against dragons, at least two of them, but possibly more. Good thing I had on the ring, the same one that could burn the big creatures and send them scurrying away like scared squirrels. This gave me some confidence, which I needed badly.
Slinging the sword over my back, I tightened the strap across my chest. With a deep inhale, I entered the woods.
There were several caves around Summers Lake, but I didn’t go to any of those. Instead, I’d driven around for a while, hoping the ring would give me a hint of where to stop. Unfortunately, it didn’t, so I picked the most isolated-looking spot I could find—one without any trail heads or a proper parking area—and squeezed my car on to the barely existing shoulder.
Clenching and unclenching my fists, I moved away from the Mustang until it di
sappeared behind thick trees. Walking in a straight line when possible, I listened for unusual sounds, eyes darting in every direction. The branches overhead grew thicker as I went, blocking the setting sun and drowning me in shadows.
“Any help here, ring?” I urged.
Nothing. Not even a momentary lukewarm sign.
“Great. Another fruitless adventure into mosquito territory. My favorite.”
An hour later, sweat dripping down my back and thorny vines stuck to my jeans, I stopped by a gnarled tree that seemed very familiar. I frowned at it, scratching my head. Had I already…
“Yep, already passed this way.” The voice came from the tree, sending me in backward retreat as my heart thumped out of control.
Talking trees were also a thing?
After a few haphazard steps, another tree got in my way, and I came to an abrupt stop.
I was thinking of Tolkien’s Ents and searching for a mouth and eyes on the trunk when a dark figure dropped from above and landed in a crouch. In my panic, I reached for the sword and pulled it out. Or at least I’d intended to, except my arm wasn’t long enough. Only half the sword came out of the scabbard.
The figure stretched to his full height, features hidden in dappled shadows. As I wrestled with my weapon, the person began to walk in my direction with resolute steps. Tara Palmer’s face flashed inside my mind, her blue eyes spelling murder. I tugged like mad, trying to dislodge the blade from its sheath.
“Never a girl scout, huh?” an accented voice asked.
A lone ray of light cut through the foliage, illuminating the would-be Ent’s face.
Ki!
He stopped a safe distant from me, watching me with a lopsided smirk. He was dressed in tight-fitting clothes, all black. Only a mask was missing to make him look like some sort of ninja. His black hair was mussed and tilted stylishly to one side. Predatory dark eyes pinned me to the tree like a helpless butterfly.
“Y-you…” I cleared my throat to mask my fear, then forced my voice into a steady flow. “You are one of them,” I said.
Ki didn’t confirm or deny it. He simply continued to smirk at me.