Ava stared. “You’re as crazy as the rest of them.”
Ixora laughed again. “Put your hand on your chest. Feel for your heartbeat, Little Egg.”
Ava didn’t want to, but she didn’t want the stranger to push her to do it either. So, she did as she was told and laid her hand against her chest and listened. Nothing. Nothing?
“Precisely. No heartbeat. Now, listen closer. Listen to your soul, your very molecules and cells and each of their souls.”
Ava listened. Nothing. Nothing…and then…a sweet hum, like crickets when the stars are out. It came from nowhere and everywhere at once.
“What is it?”
“Your will, Little Egg. And because your will is so strong, you will never truly die. And you will never truly belong to otherworld.” Ixora smiled at Ava, her eyes big and alight. “Sounds like your mother’s.”
Ava shook her head. “I don’t have a mother.”
“You haven’t had one for about seventy otherworld years.” Ixora sighed and looked out as though she almost felt nostalgic. “She might have liked to see you, to know you. She was a more social phoenix than most. I take it you do not mirror her in that way.”
“I already told you. I want to be alone.”
Her eyes were a soft and glittering sapphire, her voice gentle. “I know. It is hard for you in otherworld. But if you try your best, Little Egg, you will hatch. And you’ll have the will to stay as alone as long as you’d like.” She leaned in, so she could whisper, and she pursed her thin, ivory lips as if she had a secret. “With enough will, a phoenix can do anything.”
Ixora dissipated, leaving her tinkling, frightening laugh behind.
Ava sat alone at last. Ownworld. According to Ixora, this place belonged to her. And she could do anything she wanted if she tried hard enough. She listened again for the hum of her soul. There it was. Has it always been there? Maybe that was what Cale first noticed in me, what drew him….
“Cale.”
Six
Siege
Cale stared at the empty space before him. There were signs she had been there—almost as if the outline of her life lingered—a blurry picture of what was. He told her. He stood in that spot, with anger in his heart¸ and told her to leave.
He deserved what happened next.
Cold. A chill that began in the very center of his body spread like water seeping from cracked glass.
Harlon was there, trying to speak to him, to get him to make eye contact, to breathe at least. But Cale couldn’t respond, and in his mind, he could only think on one thing. Ava. It was as though his core was searching, looking for his rider and refusing to understand she wasn’t anywhere.
Harlon dropped the glass of water he was trying to force on a paralyzed Cale when, without warning, Ava was behind him, glowing a brilliant gold. She stood there for a moment, as if adjusting to the dimness of the room and stared forward at nothing. Harlon turned and fixed his eyes on her. It wasn’t her beauty, it was the way she held herself—Ava seemed beyond their world, too much to be contained in it. And on her face, though it held no emotion, was the look of someone who could live her entire life without needing anything.
Harlon’s instinct was to stare. He fought it, though, knowing the rider would be offended. But he’d never seen someone so above it all, so uncluttered and unfettered. It took a moment before he snapped out of his gaping.
“Ava….” It felt wrong to call her that. But what else could he call her? He tried clearing his throat. “Something is wrong with your dragon.” And when she only stood there, wearing that same mask of indifference, he exclaimed, “Help, rothai!”
Ava still stared. For a few moments, she’d forgotten who both reds were. Why am I here? I should go back to ownworld. Things are clearer in ownworld.
But Harlon moved closer, face to face with her, and shouted, “You can’t just stand there, Ava! Help him!”
Ava blinked at last. Him?
The boy lay back on his bed, his open eyes glassy and undulating, his lips frozen in place. He might have appeared dead. Ava walked over to him, her steps slow, as if she was moving through water. She sat on the edge of the bed and reached out her hand. It surprised her, to see how bright she glowed, how pale he looked. She touched his cheek, and his eyelids fluttered.
This time, it was so…different…touching him. Almost as if the frantic surge of will within her was soothed, quieted to a steady hum. She leaned over and, out of an instinct that she didn’t know she possessed, touched her lips to his forehead.
Cale gasped, sitting up as warmth returned to him. He touched Ava’s face with careful, cold hands.
“You came back.”
She had no words. They hadn’t come back to her yet. In fact, she was still slow, her body lagging just a bit. But she felt better. She was more awake, less tight.
“I didn’t think you’d forgive me….” Cale’s words caught.
Ava wanted to silence him, to stop him from apologizing. Cale never needed to say he was sorry. Everything he had ever done was better than she could do. And it always would be. Instead of finishing his apology, Cale met his rider’s eyes.
“I hurt you, didn’t I?” he asked.
No, she wanted to say. How could you ever hurt me? I’m the one who keeps hurting you.
“You don’t have to stay,” he whispered. He held her cheek in hands rough from wielding his blade. “You don’t have to stay here if it hurts, Ava.”
She had to teach herself how to stretch her arms out, how to touch his face the way he held hers. She didn’t care what Ixora said, what Juliette swore was true. There were two things she was sure of. That Cale was good. And that he deserved everything he wanted. “I won’t leave you again.”
“Do you hear that?” Harlon asked, interrupting them, his eyes roving the room.
When Ava was gone, Cale hadn’t been able to feel the throbbing in his stomach that meant something was coming. But he could hear it then. “Take a look.”
Ava leaned against the yellowed window and cupped her eyes against the glare of the sun. “It’s just a whole bunch of people. A whole bunch of very attractive people, actually. Customers, maybe?”
Harlon shook his head. “Lou never gets customers.”
Cale reached for his dragonblade. “Sirens. I can smell them now.”
“We need to move,” Ava called out. “Change, Cale,” Ava shouted from behind him as they took the stairs in bounds. She followed as quickly as she could, but the moment she cleared the front door, she froze. The gasp that left her was echoed by Harlon’s. The clear country day—with its gentle sun and its slow rhythm—had exploded into chaos. From the ancient trees came long-haired beasts whose human-like skin gave way to thick brown bristles. They barred their fangs, their eyes wild as they charged. They leapt from the forest and horded across the lawn, snarls and yips tearing through the air.
Ava had never seen so many werefolk. Not all together. Not attacking as a unit. It made her grip her blade even tighter as it sprang to life.
“Harlon, get to Lou,” Ava yelled. The old woman was still in her shop. “Cale, cut him a path.”
So Cale charged forward, his fangs slicing werefolk in half, Harlon severing their heads behind him. While they moved, Ava turned and ran back towards the castle. She barred the doors behind her and scrambled for the boards that shuttered the windows closed. As fast as she could, she locked every entrance on the ground floor, making her way upstairs and hoping to God that Cale and Harlon weren’t being pulled to pieces.
She heard the sirens’ song, the staggering beauty that came from the throats of the werefolk, and it made her dizzy as she climbed another floor. Don’t you listen, Ava, she warned herself. Don’t listen. And like a miracle, the songs disappeared and only the gnashing of teeth on dragonblade persisted. It was like she’d stuffed cottonballs into her ears.
When she got to the top of the castle, she leaned out of the open window. “Cale,” she shouted over the noise of the onslaught.
“Cale!”
Her dragon was a genius. He burst out of the little restaurant, nabbing a screaming Lou with his teeth. She dangled by the back of her dress, an unholy string of cuss words trailing behind her as Cale tossed her in the room where Ava waited.
“I’ll kill the lot of you!” she hollered.
“Get out your dragonblade and help,” Ava snapped at her. “I know you have one on you. You’re too crazy not to.”
The old woman gave a humph before complying. Ava backed away from the window, fiddling with something in the fireplace, as Lou struck down the werefolk that flew at the open window like lunatic moths to a flame.
Cale came up alongside her, and Ava patted his side as he heaved, a bit out of breath. “Go get Harlon,” she told him. He spread his wings yet again, and returned to the window with a wobbly loyal clutching his back.
Harlon fumbled to the floor, panting. “That flying bit was worse than the sirens,” he said, wiping sweaty palms on his pants. “We reds are not meant to sit on another dragon’s back.”
Ava wasn’t listening to the complaints. She lit the torch, and she handed it off to her loyal, who was finally catching his breath.
“Set this by the window,” she said. “The sirens won’t be able to get in and you’ll be able to fight through the flame.”
“We should go to Great Nest for help,” Harlon suggested, taking the torch but shaking his head. “The others can help.”
“No time,” Ava argued. “We leave and the werefolk will get to the city. We have to keep them contained.”
And before Harlon or Lou could dispute her, Ava ran towards the window. She leapt, and Cale was there without a thought. She centered herself on his back and they were the same, she and her dragon. They took the air as their own, Cale letting columns of fire envelope the werefolk in his path and Ava wielding her blade from his back. There was nothing separating them save a shimmer of gold.
And when there were no more, when the remaining werefolk scurried away and changed back into their lesser selves, Cale landed, his paws on the gravel that led up to the castle. Ava dismounted and wrapped an arm up around his massive shoulders, scratching behind his ears.
“Not bad, dragon man.”
He snorted at her and licked at the nick she had on the palm of her hand. She studied it for a moment. “No siren blood. I’m okay.”
Cale didn’t care about the blood. He knew she was in pain because he felt it, just like he used to. He knew Ava had enjoyed the fight even though they could have lost their lives, because he felt how her heart picked up, how excited she got when she gripped her blade. And he wanted to make sure he still could. That he could still feel what his rider felt and know what she knew.
Cameron had taught him how to notice the subtleties of microexpressions. He could see basic emotions in most people. And though Ava was often hard to decipher, he knew when she felt pain just by observing. It always came along with a shimmer of gold. So how is it that I can’t feel it? What am I doing so wrong?
Ava retracted her blade, put it back into her pocket, and wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand, oblivious to Cale’s inner thoughts, oblivious to what he was feeling. She looked up at the sun with those hard eyes of hers.
“Looks like we have time to make it to Great Nest if we leave now.” She studied the leather wraps she wore around her wrists for riding and sword fighting. One was torn in half. She swore at it, and tossed it to the ground. “This place is going to need some serious repairs before anyone can stay here.”
Harlon leaned out the window past the torch he still held. “Is it over?”
Ava shielded her eyes from the sun to look up at him. “Yeah, they’re gone. But we need to move. They might try again and this old castle won’t withstand another fight like that one.”
He looked over his shoulder and then back down at them. “Er…making it to the village is going to be a problem.”
Ava ignored that. “We need to leave now.”
“But…Lou…she won’t go to Great Nest.”
Ava didn’t even blink. “She will today.”
And by the time they made it through the unmapped forests, the sun was near setting. The old fence still stood, rotting wood and clumps of grass gathered around the lopsided posts. Lou crossed knobby arms and planted her feet. Her cheeks were scratched and her dress was splattered with mud and siren blood.
“I don’t care what you say. I’m not stepping one of these feet onto that land. Not even one.”
“Lou, it’s dangerous outside the fence,” Harlon pleaded. Dirt littered his brow, and his blonde hair was slicked with drying sweat. “We’re all tired. And the sirens could be lurking, ready for another chance to strike. We just need to get you in.”
“I’ll camp out right here. I’ve taken care of myself all these years. Don’t know why they think I need some youg fool to come and boss me around. I’m not letting you or anyone else drag me into that nest of hate.” She closed her eyes in defiance. “You can try, but I’m heavier than you think. And I’ll spit on you.” She squinted at Cale. “And if that beast tries to bite me again….”
Cale rolled his eyes. “I didn’t bite you, Lou, for the hundredth time. But I swear, I’m hungry enough to try now.”
Maurice appeared from one of the tufts of grass. Apparently, he was guarding Great Nest that night. He slowed, and then crossed skinny arms over his hairless chest.
“Louise.”
Lou grunted. “Maurice.”
He narrowed brown eyes. “Get in here, woman.”
If she had any teeth, they would have glinted at him. “Make me.”
Maurice pointed to the ground inside the fence. “Don’t be an idiot, Lou. Stay right here in this spot and we won’t make you come all the way into the villlage. But these dragonlings look as if they have a tale to tell….” He paused and eyed her again. “Dragonlings, Lou—they need to rest. And they won’t leave you behind if they know your fool self is alone in danger.”
Lou hissed and spit at Maurice. Then she slipped over the fence— surprisingly agile—and sat on the ground, her slumped back against a decaying post.
Maurice rubbed small hands against his temple—looking, for once, more like an old man and less like a child—as the rest of the group crossed the barrier and entered Great Nest.
Straw-thatched roofs straddled the huts that littered the open field. Each home was void of windows and doors, instead adorned with white curtains that fluttered in the winter breeze. Herds of cattle and sheep speckled the rolling hills and open fields. And to the left, past clusters of trees, was a cliff that dropped off into the blue-green sea.
“Feels like we never left,” Cale said, approaching the center of the village. “Except for—”
Dragons.
Hundreds of people squatting outside of huts, children squabbling and sparring in the open areas. Too many lines of laundry to count. Smoke rose from every roof and the smell of enormous quantities of charred meat was so dense it was edible.
“Who are all these dragons?” Ava asked, her stomach turning from the number of eyes that followed them as they walked. So many people.
“The displaced,” Maurice said, his thin lips pulling into a straight line. “We’ve got nowhere else to put them.”
In fact, Ava and Cale could see the makeshift tents popping up all around the village and out in the pastures. Once they were in Emaline’s hut, Harlon took his leave to try to wrangle up some food. Ava and Cale sat with their legs folded. Cale frowned as he remembered the first time they sat like that. They hadn’t been welcomed. His family had exiled him, and to the red dragon council, he was worthless. What good is someone if their own family rejected them?
“No stocks this time,” Ava said, trying to tease.
“Right.” But Cale didn’t like being reminded of all the times he’d failed to protect his rider. Of all the pain he’d put her through trying to pact with her.
The white dragonthread curtain—ident
ical to the ones that took the place of every door in Great Nest—fluttered aside as Emaline walked through. She still glided when she stepped, like she might have been de-
scended from some type of royalty. And when Ava thought about it,
Emaline technically was a queen of sorts. She paced as she spoke. “Maurice has briefed me.” Emaline turned a sharp gaze to them every time she walked near where they sat. “How many sirens, would you say, attacked the old castle today?”
“Werefolk,” Ava answered. “At least two dozen.”
Emaline’s paused in her tracks. “All at once? They can organize so quickly? Although I should have expected them to improve now that we know their leaders is such a brilliant—albeit twisted—individual. Under his command, the sirens have become more deadly than they were the night you first arrived. And werefolk? They are hardly capable of withstanding each other’s presence without brawling.” She continued pacing, her thoughts far and her words concise. “And you held them off, just the two of you?”
“No. Lou and Harlon were a big help.”
The chief’s mouth twitched as she paused, almost like she held in a laugh. “Lou?” But she moved past it, brought her hand to her chin as she thought. “The sirens are becoming so bold. I believe they’ll attack the village again soon. Perhaps branch out to human cities.” She settled her solemn gaze on them. “But you did not come here only to help us. You have your own quest. Correct?”
Ava glanced at Cale before she answered. “Emaline, we’re here to help as much as we can. But the reason we said no back in Miami…we’ve…come into a bit of trouble ourselves. We were trying to sort it out by taking some time off, but it only seemed to make it worse.”
“Trouble?” Emaline tilted her head at Cale. “Is it because you are still estranged from your nest. I can send a formal letter of recommendation that you be rejoined with them.”
If Cale could have blushed and paled at the same time, he would have. “Thank you, Emaline, but I highly doubt my father and I will make any reparations. Neither of us will reconsider.”
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