Jarrod’s hands cupped Tamara’s face and turned her toward him. They were on a meadow so pleasant and peaceful that she guessed they were on Ashari. She ran her hand along his smooth dark cheek, and gazed into his black eyes in wonder. His love for her was clear, strong and true. She had never expected to see such devotion, not for her.
“Have you been behaving yourself?” he asked in that deep somber tone she loved.
“I thought you could read my mind.”
He chuckled and bent to kiss her but stopped short of meeting her lips. “Tell me you’ve been good.”
“Define good!” she countermanded, closing the distance to finish the kiss, but he pulled back before their lips could connect.
He tilted his head and gave her a stern look. “Not attempting to kill anyone. Not insulting a man’s work. Not leaving him when he needs you most.”
“Oh,” Tamara said, not liking the definition. “Does the kiss depend on my answer?”
That elicited another chuckle. This time, his lips met hers in a sweet melding that quickly delved deeper into a soul-searing union that left her lightheaded. She wrapped her arms around his solid form and moaned her approval of his lovemaking.
“Now you’ve had your kiss, answer my question,” he whispered, his breath brushing across her burning lips. “Have you been behaving yourself?”
“No,” she answered and then amended quickly. “But I will, after I’ve killed Thyel.”
She’d barely finished speaking when Jarrod disappeared, leaving her standing alone in the meadow.
“No,” she cried out. “Don’t leave me.”
NOT ALONE. The thought intruded on Tamara’s dream. Halla. She ignored the dragon and searched for Jarrod.
COMPANY. The dragon popped into her dream world.
Tamara pushed at Halla. Go away.
She tried to walk off but Halla blocked her path with an extended claw. WAKE! WE HAVE COMPANY!
Tamara stirred, feeling the aches and pains of lying curled in a tight ball against the dragon. She was still thoroughly soaked and shivering with cold. The dream, however, had cheered her. For a moment, Jarrod had been with her. He was still alive. She was certain of it.
She lazily stretched her cramped left leg and it dropped. Pulse leaping in fright, she snatched her leg back and snapped open her eyes. The entire ordeal of arriving in Melak rushed back. Expecting to find herself in the dark, in the rain, she was astonished to be met by daylight, and an audience.
She caught her breath at the scores of green beings hanging off, swinging on, or spread-eagled over nearby branches as they studied her from the surrounding trees. They were slender, with dense green fur that covered their heads and long tails with a scaly body in-between. Their pointed faces had beautiful wide expressive eyes.
They’re like the green thing we saw on Ashari.
NOT FOR EATING, Halla said sagely, eyeing the company with interest.
The thought seemed to startle a flutter among the watchers and Tamara guessed telepathy was a natural means of communication in this Light-dead world. Could she then speak to them, too?
She stood on the branch beside Halla and pictured Skye’s long blond hair, Fane’s short brown locks and Kiron, much like Halla but larger, bronze and with a recently healed scar on his back.
The lizardy things looked back at her with their wide curious green eyes. Though she hadn’t sensed their response, she suspected most had “seen” the pictures she sent.
One stood and placed its little green hands on its hips, its long tail flicking. It had a faint black design etched on its right cheek. She recognized the mark. This was definitely the creature that had spied on her at the Quinlin Temple in Ryca. Had it followed her to Isa, then Ashari, and finally back to here?
Watching it watch her, she gained the impression that “it” was a “he.” Not so much from any physical variation in characteristic as much as an internal sense of his presence. Her perception shifted until she sensed each member of her audience – their gender, personality, even to their sense of humor. Most seemed lighthearted in nature, though there were the odd dark-humored ones and a few serious spectators.
Her attention returned to her green-skinned shadow. How had he managed to follow her from world to world?
What do you want? she asked.
A vision of the vine Thyel had used to trap Kiron and bind him to his will flashed in her mind.
“The magic-dampening cord,” Tamara said to Halla. “They know Thyel has one. Could it be from this world?”
THEY NOT SEEK US.
“Maybe they’ll help us, then, since we’re both after the same target.”
EVIL ONE ELSEWHERE. WHY GREEN THINGS HERE?
“Let’s ask.” She pictured Thyel with the cord around Kiron’s neck arriving in Melak.
Her black-cheeked shadow gestured to a female. There was a flutter of conversation, aloud this time, in high-pitched tones. A female scooted down the tree. Moments later, she returned to hand the leader a vine.
He held it out for Tamara and Halla to see. Again, she received a flicker of a vision. This time of Tamarisk, surrounded by several King’s Horsemen stepping onto shore from a boat. The men searched the surrounding scenery until they found the vine.
See that man? Tamara asked Halla.
WHO?
Tamarisk. From a long time ago. So, Tamarisk must have come to Melak. Saira had set off on a voyage to the other side of Ryca, hoping to enter Melak through a natural inter-world boundary. Had Tamarisk done the same? “Could these Melakeans travel using boundaries between various realms?”
ASK.
Before Tamara had formulated her question, a series of ethereal doorways flashed into her mind. She scowled. If they could read her so easily, could she reciprocate the experience?
The idea of intentionally invading another’s mind against their will in order to steal their thoughts made her queasy, even if they had shown no such restraint toward her. The concept felt invasive, unnatural, or at the least, impolite. Still, how else could she find out what they wanted. She needed a bargaining chip to get them to help her.
As quietly as she could, she shared her dilemma with Halla.
I TRY?
Tamara was relieved. Halla had no such moral aversion. Though she made a mental note to have a discussion with the green about this subject later. For now, she said, Would you, please?
She watched the dragon stare at the lizards, who stared back at the dragon. The silence stretched and then Halla said, WON’T SHARE.
You mean you can’t read them?
NOT LET ME.
They can stop you?
BLOCK WHEN NOT WANT TO TALK.
Tamara frowned at the crowd, her temper rising. If they didn’t want to talk, she and Halla had other things to do.
She climbed up the dragon’s back and settled herself between Halla’s shoulder blades.
The dragon obligingly spread her wings in preparation for flight and knocked a few Melakean’s off their perch.
Several shouted in protest and flailed, trying to find purchase on lower branches.
With a pat, Tamara signaled Halla to go.
The leader from the tree across glared at Tamara.
Halla swooped off the limb and flew below the opposing tree.
A thump behind her startled Tamara. The little black-cheeked lizard had landed on Halla. He grabbed at the dragon’s scales for leverage and pulled himself up until he kneeled behind Tamara, his little clawed fingers linking into her chainmaille.
She’d never cared for people crowding her. A side effect of being trapped for so many years perhaps. Something she planned to overcome in the near future, with the help of many hugs from her family and closer contact with Jarrod. Those plans, however, did not encompass growing closer to an untrustworthy alien reptilian mind-reader.
She had half a mind to toss him off.
He yelped and crowded even closer, as if expecting her to do that. His claws scraped her skin.
“Ouch!”
Halla turned her head in inquiry.
Tamara leaned sideways so the dragon could spot the stowaway. The dragon’s tail whipped around and the interloper plastered himself to Tamara’s back, his tail wrapping around her right leg.
OFF? Halla asked Tamara casually.
Before she could respond, Black-Cheek flashed her a series of pictures of Skye, Fane and Thyel riding Kiron as they flew over a forested area. In one of those pictures, Bevan stood on a shore, looking into the horizon – alive and unharmed.
She crowed in happiness and Halla, matching her mood, soared upwards
The Melakean hung on.
“If you’re coming with us,” Tamara told him, “you’ll have to earn your passage. Where are Skye and Bevan?”
An urge for Halla to change direction hit her.
The Melakean unwound his tail and loosened his grip. He climbed up her back until he could sit on her shoulder, his rough cheek brushing her ear.
“Move over!” she ordered.
The Melakean grumbled but complied, allowing an inch of space to separate them, but spoilt the effect by wrapping his long furry tail around her neck.
His breath wafted past her cheek like an ill wind. At least he smelled sweet, not sour. The scent reminded her of a mixture of ripe fruits and blossomed flowers. Odd. She would have taken her little stowaway for a meat-eater.
As intrusive as her companion was, Tamara allowed the uncomfortable contact in exchange for finding Skye faster.
On the horizon, clouds gathered and darkness tinted the sky gray. Droplets of rain splattered her nose and cheeks and in the distance, thunder rumbled.
Great. Did it ever stop raining on this world?
The Melakean flashed a picture of a cloudless blue sky with the underbrush bathed in sunshine.
Would she ever get used to having everyone she encountered living inside her head? To think she’d been worried about her mother running her life. Huh!
Her companion chuckled, if those little hissing noises coming from between his teeth was laughter.
The dragon changed direction again. Tamara couldn’t tell if it had been Halla’s idea or the Melakean’s – it hadn’t been hers.
Halla roared. An answering call came from Kiron in the distance. In moments, the bronze swung around the side of a mountain with Fane on his back. The two dragons circled each other and Fane waved wildly. Soon they flew side by side so the riders could talk.
Tamara was so thrilled to see these two, it took her a moment to realize Skye was missing. “Where is she?”
“Thyel has her. We were searching for them, when we heard Halla.”
“What happened?” Tamara asked, fear crowding closer than the Melakean.
“Thyel’s cord stopped working. He must have expected that because he grabbed Skye and threatened to break her neck if we didn’t drop him off.”
Tamara’s blood roiled. No matter what Jarrod cautioned, she would have killed Thyel if he had been in her line of sight.
“She fought back,” Fane said. “When we landed, Thyel dragged her off into the woods.” He nodded to the little green lizard. “Who, or what, is that?”
“Our local guide,” Tamara thought the lizard had been unusually quiet and attentive as he, too, listened to Fane’s story. “Not a helpful sort.” She gave Black-Cheek a searching side glance. Would he assist them with finding Skye?
The Melakean showed her Bevan again by the shore.
She gave a resigned sigh. Bevan was the one they had come for and he was also Thyel’s target. Finding her nephew might put them ahead of the game.
Turning to Fane she outlined her plan.
Fane nodded and spoke to Kiron. Halla, receiving her instructions from the Melakean, obligingly followed a route that Tamara assumed would take them toward the sea.
They had flown for only a short span of time before the clouds opened up. Lightning littered the sky with flashes of heat that threatened to sear them.
A strike almost touched Halla’s extended left wing.
Too dangerous to go on? she said to Halla.
The green nodded emphatically and winged her way lower to get away from the dark clouds. Kiron followed her lead. That maneuver had no appreciable effect as their flight path took them closer to the eye of the storm. It grew darker, making flying difficult.
Black-Cheek’s directions never faltered, however, until Tamara asked him to find them a safe place to land. Then she was given another picture of Bevan, once again bathed in sunshine beneath a clear sky.
Tamara’s suspicions grew about the validity of that image. The clouds didn’t seem localized and if they were indeed heading for Bevan, how could they be going deeper into the rain when he was standing in sunshine?
Down, she said to Halla.
The dragon faltered and then headed downward in counterpoint to a high-pitched protest from the Melakean. Kiron effortlessly followed Halla’s lead, and the two searched the canopy below for a hint of clear ground.
Tamara made a judgment call, deciding her stowaway probably didn’t wish to die any more than she did. Halla, just land. Pretend the tree-covered ground is a clearing.
Halla dove. Tamara’s stomach lurched as the trees sped to meet them. Kiron gave one startled call and then followed his mate.
Excellent. Two suicidal dragons that won’t question my wild decisions.
The Melakean reacted to their fast descent with a high-pitched scream and then, miraculously, Halla veered at the last moment and flew toward a clearing that had been hidden by a grove of overgrown trees. Kiron swerved smoothly in her wake.
Halla landed with a hard bump that jolted Tamara forward in her seat and sent the Melakean rolling down to her lap. The dragon ran beneath a wide canopy and away from the pounding rain. The covering which was daunting from overhead, now acted as a wonderful shield.
She breathed a sigh of relief as the pelting rain eased up and then stopped peppering them with raindrops. The sounds of the storm remained, pattering on leaves as the wind tore at branches. High above, rapid bursts of thunder echoed.
“Get off me,” Tamara pushed the untrustworthy Melakean away. He grabbed hold of some scales to keep from tumbling off the dragon. “Time for some straight talk.”
Tamara climbed down to the ground and waited for Fane to join her.
“Good call.” Fane shook the wetness out of his hair and clothes like a shaggy dog. “How did you know your green friend would help us?”
“He wants something. He wouldn’t get it if we all died during landing.”
“A search by foot might be better, in any case,” Fane said, looking around. “The canopy effectively hides all movement on the ground. That’s how we lost sight of Skye and Thyel.”
“Movement is not the only thing the canopy hid.” Tamara looked around in shock. From above, the ground had seemed to be an unending line of green, lush plant growth in all directions. From below, a different picture emerged.
The large, stronger, older trees making up the canopy concealed the devastation below. Sections of the ground looked rotten, smaller trees were toppled or uprooted. There was hardly any undergrowth and what there was appeared brittle and dying. She tentatively touched one of the large upright trees. Its bark crumbled beneath her touch, revealing a rotting, molding trunk.
She turned to the Melakean to ask him what was wrong with this land and found he was still on Halla and appeared displeased. Smarting at her trick? She was a little surprised he hadn’t read her plan in her mind, since he previously had shown no problem invading her thoughts.
FRIGHTENED. Halla looked over at her unwelcome rider who now studied the clearing with a frown.
Of what? Tamara asked with annoyance. This is his world and we’re the ones who’ve lost our loved ones.
She had abandoned Jarrod and her father on Ashari. She mustn’t think of that now. There was nothing she could do for them, but she could help Bevan and Skye.
The Melakean’
s gaze suddenly fixed on her with purpose. As she’d known he would not let them die, she now knew he read her thoughts.
“Fine, so I’m worried about the others. What good does that do you? What do you want from me?”
He resurrected her memory of the day her father had been murdered and, covered in his blood, her mother dragged Tamara and her siblings down the stairs.
She came back to the present with tears in her eyes and saw a mirror of her loss in the Melakean’s gaze. They stared at each other in silence, sharing that intimate moment.
“What’s wrong?” Fane looked with concern from her to the green hitchhiker.
Tamara wiped away her tears and breathed, allowing that powerful sense of sorrow to fade into the past, where it belonged.
“He’s lost something too,” she whispered. “Something precious.”
She’d barely finished speaking when images flooded her mind. Fane staggered beside her and the dragons raised their heads, ears up, as if paying attention. They, too, must have been brought into this eloquent communication.
All the bits and pieces she’d been shown fell into place. Tamarisk arriving on Melak with his contingent of horsemen to steal pieces of a plant. Each strike of their swords against this particular plant, one that grew in vines, rendered a painful tearing in Melak. The guardians of this land came flocking in droves to see who desecrated their world.
Startled by the surge of little green beings, Tamarisk and his men had beaten a hasty retreat to their ship and sailed away toward the horizon with their stolen plunder.
Too late, the Melakeans saw the danger and placed a guard on that beach, where the two worlds overlapped. They meant to ensure no one else would ever cross over to rape their land again.
Years passed, and the threat waned. No other strangers came. The Melakeans returned to their way of life, watching over the world vine. A plant they called the “forgetful one.” Though the stolen pieces remained an ever-open wound, the forest adjusted and lived on.
One day another visitor arrived on Melak’s shores. This time the locals were prepared to defend their world, with their lives if necessary. Surprisingly, the stranger didn’t attack their vine. He instead offered an apology for the past intrusion by his people. He offered two of the stolen vines back, so the forest could heal.
Magic and Shadows: A Collection of YA Fantasy and Paranormal Romances Page 167