“Primtea,” Yancey says, his voice barely above a scratchy whisper.
We all whip toward him, shocked. I thought he was out cold.
“In my pack.” The alchemist shifts, but Esme’s off her horse and at his side in less than a heartbeat.
She sets her hand on his arm. “Be still. I’ll find it.”
Esme rummages around for several moments and then pulls out a folded parchment. “This?”
Yancey gives her a single nod and draws in a deep breath. “Drink the tea, Lucia. Go back to Kalae.”
Sebastian watches the exchange from atop his horse, and finally, he meets my eyes. Slowly, knowing it will kill me, he nods. “He’s right. Lucia, you need go home.”
“But Yancey,” I protest even as another cramp paralyzes me. I grasp hold of Avery’s arm, almost crying out.
Something’s wrong. I feel it; I know it.
“We’ll find the spring,” Sebastian says. He turns his eyes on Yancey. “I swear.”
Once the pain passes, I go to Yancey’s side, standing in front of him so he can see me without turning his head. Lowering my voice so the others don’t hear, I say, “I’m so sorry. This is my fault.”
“You saved me from the siren; I saved you from the spider. We’re even, adventuress.”
He sounds so weak. I grasp his good arm as tears prick my eyes. “You will hold on until you reach the spring, do you understand me?”
It’s not a request.
He chuckles, but it quickly morphs into a breathy groan. “And you will take care of yourself and your baby.”
I nod, and the tears finally escape. Another pain looms, and I squeeze his arm one more time before stepping away.
“Go,” I say to Sebastian, not quite able to look at him.
Adeline’s cheeks are wet, and she holds out her hand to me in a goodbye. Esme nods, and so does Gorin. Akello watches the ground, perhaps feeling as if he’s intruded on something intensely personal.
And then they go, leaving Avery and me. Flink appears from behind a hill, hurrying after the group until he realizes that I’ve stayed. He ambles over to me and leans against my side, letting me pet his smooth scales.
Avery struggles to start a fire, preparing to boil water for the tea.
I toss our bedroll on the ground and lie down, desperate for rest. Too late, I realize we never warned Sebastian about Esme and Akello.
CHAPTER TWENTY
What's Her Element?
I lie in Avery’s arms, safe against his chest, listening to the late morning sounds of the desert. A sand wren calls from her cliffside home, trilling a sweet song that carries on the breeze.
Because we knew we’d be sleeping more than two hours, Avery set up the tent last night. I slept like the dead, and I feel rejuvenated.
As we linger here together, enjoying the fact that we have nowhere to go and no time to be there, Avery idly runs his finger along my arm. The sensation is delicious, and it makes me want to close my eyes and go back to sleep.
“You know I’m going to ask you,” he murmurs next to my temple.
I smile. “I don’t hurt anymore.”
He lets out a relieved breath. “And everything’s…normal?”
“I think so.” I roll onto my back, resting my head on his arm, still tucked close to him.
He touches me like I’m breakable, which after yesterday, I start to worry that maybe I am. With great care, he folds my loose bodice up a few inches and sets his palm on my stomach.
I squirm at first, self-conscious of my growing stomach. It’s not much, just a slight bump. But still.
“Avery,” I say, attempting to twist away.
He stills me by brushing his hand over my navel and turning to me. “Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been about you the last few days?”
“Avery,” I say softly, melting the slightest bit. I look away, unable to keep my eyes locked on his liquid brown gaze. “I’m sorry.”
His hand strays from my stomach, and he tilts my chin, making me look at him. “I need to know I can trust you to acknowledge your limits. You are strong—I know that. I don’t want to “coddle” you. But if you won’t take care of yourself, I will.”
“I promise, from this point on, I will be mindful of my limitations.”
“All right.” He presses a sweet kiss to my lips. When he pulls back, he watches me for several long moments. “So, are we headed back to Kalae?”
I shake my head, smiling. “No. We’re going to meet the others at the spring.”
He raises a skeptical eyebrow.
“At a nice, unhurried pace, of course.”
“Naturally.”
I sit up and stretch in a deliciously lazy way. He smiles, but his expression turns serious yet again. “You swear to me you feel good this morning?”
“Yes, I honestly do.”
“All right.” He sits up and runs a hand through his light brown hair, making it messier than it was moments ago. “Then I suppose we will join the others.” He holds out his hand, putting his finger and thumb about an inch apart. “You realize I was this close to getting you to myself?”
“Once we finish the job, we’ll spend so much time together, you’ll be sick of me.”
Just as I’m about to stand up, he tugs me back. “Not possible, Lady Greybrow.”
I tilt my head back, relishing the sound of my new name on his lips. Then, before I can change my mind, I stand and go to help Avery prepare the horses.
***
It’s incredible the difference a few good nights’ sleep can make. I finally feel human again. My stomach is still oddly heavy, but the cramping has completely stopped. It’s a weird feeling, this being pregnant bit. Terrifying at first, but strangely wonderful. I haven’t admitted it to Avery yet, but I’ve already been pondering names. Of course, the Greybrows will probably have their own ideas about that.
What is Avery’s grandmother going to say when we come back, not only married but expecting? She’s going to assume the worst. Everyone is.
But that’s not something I’m going to worry about now because the trail begins its ascent into the sandstone mountains. According to Sebastian’s hastily-drawn map, we are nearing the spring.
Flink stays with us, close for once. Occasionally, he lifts his snout into the air as if he smells something. Whatever it is, he seems wary, which makes me wary.
The trail grows narrow as we pass through the rocks, and soon, it closes to a point where it will be too narrow to travel on horseback. I look up at the tall rock walls on either side of us, two canyons meeting.
“I suppose we walk,” I say as I gingerly swing down from my horse.
Avery dismounts as well, but he studies the trail with narrowed eyes. “If the others are here, where are their horses?”
I crane my neck, looking about—which is ridiculous. What do I expect? They aren’t going to appear out of thin air. “Do you think they already came and left?”
“Possibly,” Avery says, but from the look on his face, I know he’s not sure.
At the leisurely pace we took, they had to beat us here.
Unless they didn’t make it at all.
“We’ve come this far,” Avery says, holding his hand out to me.
Single file, with Avery in the front, we walk down the trail. Flink walks just ahead of us, scouting for danger.
I look up, way up, to the top of the cliffs, wondering what’s up there—imagining cobras raining down on our heads.
Ahead of us, the light becomes brighter, and our exit beckons. Flink hurries forward, but just as soon as he reaches the opening between the two rock walls, the dragon comes to an abrupt stop. He lowers his head, and his shoulders rise in a defensive posture.
“What’s up there?” I ask Avery, but the captain’s only a few feet in front of me. It’s not like he can see any better than I can.
Flink inches forward, intent on whatever is in front of him. He doesn’t look scared, not exactly, just hesitant. His copper sca
les shimmer as soon as he steps into the sunlight. Moments later, the strangest noise comes from below us.
I stop cold. “What was that?”
Avery too looks dumbfounded. “It sounded a lot like…”
There it is again, a churring noise, followed by dozens more in chorus. And it sounds just like Flink. Lots of Flinks.
My dragon stands there, still as stone, staring at whatever is ahead.
Pushing past Avery, I hurry forward, needing to see for myself, not able to believe what my ears are telling me.
“Oof,” Avery says as his back meets the wall. “No problem. You go on ahead.”
I flash him a smile over my shoulder. I didn’t shove him that hard.
Flink’s tail twitches when he hears me approach, but he doesn’t bother to turn. Careful, I stay in the shadows, hopefully out of sight, and creep closer.
There, below us, bubbles a natural mineral spring. The pool is shallow, maybe a foot at most, and the water sparkles in the bright sunlight. Dark, velvety purple flowers grow on tall spikes at the water’s edge.
We’ve found the lilies.
But my eyes only pass over the flowers because there, scattered about the edges and in the water, are dragons in many jeweled colors. And not just any dragons—lesser dragons. Dragons like Flink.
Dragons that are supposed to be all but extinct.
They watch Flink, their heads perked and their eyes eager. They continue to chirp and purr and make all the noises Flink does when he’s happy or wants something.
A brave one leaves the water and inches forward. She’s sleek and the color of rose quartz. Her eyes are green, as bright as a cat’s, and she stares at Flink with the same adoring look he gave Queen Minerva’s munchkin dragon, who he chased through the royal sitting room and onto a bookcase.
Like a chicken, Flink takes a step back. He can’t go far though, and he ends up bumping right into me.
Avery whistles low behind me as soon as he spots the group. “How many are there?”
“Eleven,” I say, “unless some are hiding.”
The rose-colored female ambles toward us, stopping only once she notices Avery and me. She cocks her head to the side like she’s never seen a human before. Possibly deciding we’re soft and pale and no real threat, she continues our way. Her look is curious, a little unnerving, but it’s not us she wants. It’s Flink.
She chirps at him again. This time, he answers. It’s a pathetic little response, barely audible, but it causes her to stretch her wings and leap back, excited.
“What element is correlated to pink?” I ask Avery, growing a bit leery.
“I haven’t the slightest idea.”
Flink, growing braver by the second, crawls forward. The female watches him so intently, her muscles twitch with the restraint it’s taking not to run to him.
After several long minutes, Flink finally joins her. He sticks out his snout cautiously. Just when his back softens, she tackles him.
“Flink!” I yell, but Avery holds me back.
My dragon lets out an awful shriek. The female leaps away, bounding around him in a circle with unbridled glee. He pivots with her, terrified she’s going to get him again. The others gather round, watching.
“She’s playing,” Avery says after a moment.
“Someone should tell Flink that.”
He growls at the pink dragon, growing more irritated with every one of her bounces.
We watch them for several minutes, and then Avery pats my shoulder. “While Flink distracts them, I’m going to collect the lily.”
I yank him back. “There are three fire dragons, one with the lightning element, and I don’t want to know what the stubby little puce dragon wields. You can’t just go mosey on down there.”
Avery turns to face me, raising an eyebrow. “I can.”
Crossing my arms, I say, “And why is that?”
He leans close, looking dashing and handsome, reminding me why it was so easy to fall for him. Flashing me a cocky grin, he steps a minuscule bit closer. “Because I’m good.”
I roll my eyes. “Fine. But when you come back, singed and smoking, don’t expect sympathy from me.”
But the dragons don’t care. A few of them glance Avery’s way as he walks down to the spring with the confidence of a man who belongs there, but after staring at him for a few lazy moments, they turn back to Flink, who is far more interesting.
As Avery makes his way to the lilies, my mind wanders to our group. Where are they? Surely if they’d already turned back, we would have met them on the trail.
Worry gnaws at my insides, refusing to be ignored. My mind wanders to Esme’s whispered conversation with Akello.
Taking his dear sweet time, Avery browses the knee-tall flower stalks. Finally, he picks several and makes his way back to me. When he’s halfway here, Flink spots him. Still half-terrified, the dragon runs to Avery like a puppy hiding behind his master.
Flink’s new friend bounds after them, tail twitching like a banner in the wind. Then, without grace or stealth, she plows right into the captain, knocking him over in her attempt to get to Flink.
Avery curses at Flink as he falls, his arms pinwheeling with the lilies in his hand. He stumbles to the ground, hitting the rocky ground rump first. Suddenly more interested in the strange human than the newcomer dragon, the pink female comes closer, sniffing Avery.
“Don’t move,” I call to him, horrified.
What element is pink?
After staring at him for several minutes, she sniffs the flowers, which are still hanging in his hand. She then proceeds to eat one of the lilies, putting the whole thing in her mouth and snapping it off at the stem. Deciding Avery holds no interest to her, she steps over him as she finishes chewing.
The captain grimaces as her back taloned-foot pushes against his chest as she once again leaps after Flink. This time, Flink isn’t quick enough. She has him cornered by the spring. She stretches her wings, flicks her tail behind her, and breathes a rosy fire into the air, right at my dragon.
I holler even though I know Flink’s strong enough to nullify most, if not all, elemental attacks.
Momentarily dazed, he plops on his haunches and stares at her, unblinking. His eyes narrow as the enchantment fizzles, but he doesn’t look as hesitant as he did a moment ago.
Relieved, I stumble against the rock wall.
Avery pulls himself to his feet, rubbing his chest with his free hand, and climbs back up to where I wait for him.
“Charisma,” he says with a groan when he gets close enough. “That’s the element related to pink.”
“Are you all right?” I ask as he stumbles to me.
“I thought you weren’t going to ask.” He flashes me a quick grin as he dusts himself off and looks back at the dragons over his shoulder. Flink now follows the female about, growing more confident.
I take the lilies from Avery. They’re beautiful—exotic. The stamens glow gold in the sunlight. Hopefully, we won’t need them.
Hopefully, Sebastian’s already been here, Yancey’s already healed, and they’re on their way to Kysen Okoro as we speak.
“How are we going to get Flink?” I ask as I watch him follow his new friend about the spring. They frolic in the water and race around the edges. A few others join in, and they shimmer like living rainbows. It’s a beautiful sight, but for some reason, it makes me sad.
Avery shrugs. “If we leave, perhaps he will follow.”
Since neither of us is going to go down there amongst the group and snap a lead to his harness, I don’t see how we have a choice.
“Whistle for him so he knows we’re going,” I say, and then I cover my ears.
Avery raises his knuckles to his mouth and lets out an ear-piercing whistle that echoes off the canyon walls and has every one of the dragons, including Flink, looking our way.
“Come on, Flink,” I call, motioning him along. We’ve done this a hundred times. He knows what it means, but it’s up to him to follow.<
br />
Turning, I walk back to the horses. I don’t know what I’ll do if he lingers. I’m too worried about the rest of our group to wrestle with the stubborn dragon at the moment. Fortunately, he appears as soon as we’re on our horses.
But he’s not alone.
The rose female follows him, and so do several others. I glance at Avery, unsure what to do. The captain dismounts and clips a long lead to Flink’s harness, eying the others. They stay several yards away, still wary of us.
Avery steps in his stirrup, swings his leg over the saddle, and turns his horse back the way we came. Flink is reluctant to follow, but the captain doesn’t give him a choice. After several moments of fussing, Flink gives in.
I glance over my shoulder, wondering how the dragons are handling the loss of their new friend.
“Avery.”
He turns and then narrows his eyes. Eleven lesser dragons trot along behind us, merry as can be.
“They’ll grow bored and turn back soon,” Avery says after several moments.
And yet several hours later, they’re still there.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Anything You Can Shoot, I Can Shoot Better
We stop at the top of a secluded ridge when twilight falls. I start a fire as Avery sets up our tent.
Once camp is prepared, we eat a small meal and tend to the horses.
Flink lies beside the crackling fire, pouting. He’s on his lead because the lesser dragons are still out there, somewhere. When night fell, they went off to find a place to bed down, but I still hear their occasional calls, so I know they aren’t far.
Flink wants nothing more than to go to them, but I don’t want to risk losing him should they wander off before morning.
When the fire burns low, Flink tugs at his lead, belligerent.
“Stop, Flink,” I say, growing irritated. He must understand: they are wild; he’s a pet. He cannot go roam with them. It’s not safe.
“I think I should walk him a bit before we retire,” I say to Avery, scowling at my unruly beast.
Avery stands and stretches his back. “All right, but let’s be quick about it.”
The moon is almost full tonight, and the desert is bright enough to navigate without needing a lantern or torch. It’s eerie in the pale silver light, but the silhouettes of the rocks and ridges are beautiful against the backdrop of stars. In some ways, the desert reminds me of the sea. With no forests or trees to block it, the sky stretches forever, endless.
Lily of the Desert (Silver and Orchids Book 4) Page 14