by Wesley King
“Yeah, he’s waited long enough. I’ll go grab my bag—”
“You’re not coming,” Jack said, sad but resolute.
“Of course I am. I promised my dad I would come back for him.”
Jack laid a hand on Marcus’s shoulder, meeting his eyes. “It could take weeks to secure his release from the holding cell, Marcus. Maybe months. We’re talking about the CIA here . . . it’s going to take a lot of paperwork and legalities. You have other things . . . more important things . . . to do.”
“But—”
“Look around you, Marcus. You are needed here.”
Marcus frowned. Was he supposed to just abandon his father, the man he’d spent his entire life trying to track down? But Marcus had to admit—he wasn’t overly keen on leaving Dracone. Not now. He was a Dragon Rider, and a leader of the Resistance. He couldn’t just abandon his people either, could he?
Marcus looked away, unsure of what to do. His heart was torn: blood or duty?
Jack gestured below them, where the massive rebuilding of Dracone was taking place.
“Look, Marcus. There is an entire world to be rebuilt here . . . to become better than before. I can handle getting your father. Your place is here. I think you know that this is where you belong. I think you’ve known that for quite some time.”
Finally, Marcus nodded. “Stay safe over there, Uncle Jack,” he said, a shake in his voice. “Don’t get yourself in any more trouble. I’ll see you when you come back.”
“I won’t be returning, Marcus,” Jack said quietly.
“What do you mean—”
Jack held up a hand. “To visit, maybe. But not to live. I promise you, I will save your father and I’ll send him back to you. But I’m staying on Earth. It’s where I belong.”
“But you could live here too, you know,” Marcus pleaded.
Jack laughed and looked out over the city. “I don’t have Draconian blood, Marcus. I’m an engineer from Earth. It’s my home. But I know we will see each other again, when the right storm pops up.”
Marcus wanted to argue, but he knew Jack wouldn’t be swayed.
“I’m going to miss you,” Marcus said quietly.
“I’m going to miss you too.” Jack turned and gave Marcus a fierce hug. “I’m so proud of you, my boy.”
They wandered back downstairs to the great hall and saw that Dree was up again, helping her mother fix up the palace. Abi and the boys were trailing along beside them, dusting and sweeping and picking up chunks of wood and shattered brick. The palace had suffered massive damage during the battle, and Dree’s mother had made it her personal mission to get it back to a “workable condition,” as she called it. Marcus knew it was her way of dealing with Abelard’s death, and it seemed that the whole family had taken up the cause. Marcus watched Dree straightening a picture, leaning on her crutch.
“I think you’ll have some good company here, anyway,” Jack said, watching the family work. “I’m happy you’ve found your home.”
Dree and Marcus stood on the edge of the meadow, flanked by Lourdvang. Jack stood in front of Marcus, and behind him, a huge thunderstorm was just beginning to rage. Lightning raced across the sky.
“I guess this is goodbye,” Jack said, his tone somber.
Dree gave him a hug, and then he turned to Marcus, who handed him a note.
“What’s this?” Jack asked.
“Just something for my dad. I want to tell him that I’m waiting for him at home. Our real home. I want to make sure he knows he’s welcome and that I hope we get back some of that time that we missed.”
Jack smiled. “He’ll appreciate that. I’ll get him out, don’t worry. Good luck.”
“You too.”
Jack turned and hurried off into the storm, the long grass billowing about his waist. The first rain began to fall, and Dree laughed as a great sheet crashed into them, soaking them to the bone. Lourdvang growled behind them, flames licking out of his mouth and sending steam shooting up.
“I’m sick of these storms,” Lourdvang muttered.
“Hopefully there’s just one more coming,” Marcus said, watching Jack grow smaller.
“Your father will be here soon,” Dree said. “I know it.”
Marcus heard the pain in her voice, and he turned to her. “I’m so sorry about your father, Dree.”
Dree smiled. “So am I. But I’m proud of the man he was when he died. He was whole again, a true Rider.”
“I have already heard there are songs being sung in the taverns of Abelard’s last battle,” Lourdvang said softly. “And Erdath’s final charge. They say they ride again in the night lands. I like to think that.”
“Me too,” Dree said softly, envisioning the two of them sailing on a cool morning breeze.
Ahead, they saw Jack jump into the lightning storm and vanish. Immediately, the storm started to clear. Sunlight soon poured in through the cracks, falling over the meadow and pushing the darkness away as if it had never been there at all. In time, there was only daylight.
The three of them stared at the tall grass for a while, letting the sun dry their sopping clothes and scales. Marcus breathed in the fresh air, letting it fill his body. It smelled of cold rain and new life.
Finally, Marcus turned to Dree. “So, what now?”
Dree smiled. “The storm has passed, Dragon Rider. It’s time to enjoy our new home.”
Acknowledgments
I would like to thank Marissa Grossman, Ben Schrank, and the rest of the very talented team at Razorbill for their help and encouragement throughout this genre-bending project. It has been a privilege to explore Dracone with such a supportive group. Thanks as well to the wonderful designers, copyeditors, and other unsung heroes who make sure I don’t look like an idiot, despite my best efforts.
Thanks to the world’s best agent, Brianne Johnson, who thankfully only started becoming recognized as such after she had already signed me on as her client. Ha! Too late now.
As always, I must thank my wife, Juliana, who doesn’t understand half of what I am telling her when I am writing, but nods along and pretends anyway. (It’s always nice to stay grounded.) Thanks as well to the rest of my family and friends for their ongoing and much appreciated encouragement and support. I know I say it often, but you guys just keep on showing up. That goes for the Kings, Scotts, Goodwins, Muellers, Kahns, and Niedzielas, just to name a few.
Thanks to Dave and Telma at Blueforce Logistics for always being so understanding and accommodating when I disappear into writing fogs or go on tour for my books. You guys rock.
Lastly, a very special thank-you to my parents (they also got their first dedication, which was long overdue). I write about a lot of characters with absentee parents, but mine couldn’t be further from that. They are endlessly supportive, have not once questioned my career choices (which were not always logical or even possible), and are my two biggest cheerleaders by far. What’s more, they have always taught my brothers and me that humility, kindness, and empathy are the most important things we can strive for, be it for humans or animals. I try to live by that and never forget that I was once a reclusive little kid reading adventure books in the corner of my room and dreaming about magic. I write every book with that kid in mind, and with the knowledge that, like then, my parents are right behind me.
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