by Megg Jensen
Granna. She knew all of Tressa's favorites. Boiled eggs accompanied warm bread. She took a quick sip from the cup. Honeywine. Yes, Granna had definitely had a hand in choosing the food Fi brought.
A tentative knock interrupted Tressa's meal. "Come in," she said.
The door swung open and Granna walked in, her hands buried deep in the pockets of her black cotton gown. "I'm glad to hear you're feeling better, Tressa. I'm even happier you've agreed to see me."
Tressa set down her cup. "I feel it's the right thing to do. Fi swears you had a good reason for keeping me from getting pregnant all those years. I want to hear your story and form my own opinion."
Granna sat on the chair opposite Tressa, her hands resting on the damask-covered arms. Tressa remembered Granna’s hands in Hutton’s Bridge. Wrinkled, veined, and spotted with brown dots. Now they were smooth and soft. She would have to get used to this new version of the old woman she’d known.
"The day after the fog fell,” Granna said, “I wandered into it, wanting to lose myself forever. I wanted to die. I wasn't prepared to be the oldest in the village. How could I lead a town filled with children? But he found me in the fog and saved me from the beasts."
"He?" Tressa asked.
"Mestifito. The dragon king. Though he was not king then. He was a boy, only a bit older than me. One of the other beasts had confused me, calling out my name in the voice of my mother."
"Kilrothgi," Tressa said.
"Yes." Granna nodded. "I am sorry you also had to face them. They are hideous, deadly creatures." She poured herself a cup of honeywine and took a small sip. "Mestifito killed the kilrothgi. Then he carried me to safety outside the fog. He used a drop of his blood to heal me. You see, the kilrothgi had nearly killed me, and I hadn't bothered to fight back. I welcomed death and was on the brink of never opening my eyes again."
Tressa had questions, but she held her tongue. She knew Granna well enough to know the woman enjoyed telling her stories and didn't appreciate interruption.
"That was the day the blood of the dragon entered my system. Mestifito used his own blood to save me. It wasn’t enough to turn me. Just enough to save my life, but not to turn me. Eventually I gave birth to my children, and they did not show the mark of the dragon. The human blood had been stronger than the dragon. I had thought it died out with the first generation. I was certain with the second generation. But then you came and everything changed." Granna's hands trembled.
Tressa remembered how her hands shook the same way the day she thought Granna had died. She’d been scared. Uncertain. Tressa fought the urge to take Granna's hands in hers, to comfort her the same way she had all those moons ago.
"Why was I different?" Tressa asked.
"Your mother..." Granna's voice wavered.
"My mother died giving birth to me," Tressa said. "What about her?"
"She sacrificed her own life to give you yours." Granna placed a hand on Tressa's shoulder. "You must understand. She did not know what was going to happen. I only knew it was a possibility..."
"What was a possibility?" Tressa asked.
"When a dragon gives birth to a dragon, it is done so via egg. But when a human is pregnant with a dragon it is not so simple."
"How does it happen?" Tressa asked through gritted teeth.
"The dragon cannot fit through the birth canal. It must be taken through a cut in the stomach."
"I have heard of this. Adam performed that procedure on a couple of the women in Hutton's Bridge. They lived. Why did my mother die?" Tressa asked, not certain she truly wanted to know the answer.
"Your mother came to me when labor began. She was feeling ill, which is not uncommon. I laid her down on my bed so I could examine her. It was when I lifted her dressing gown that I saw what I had thought I would never see. Scratches on her abdomen, just above her navel, but below her breasts. Long rows of scratches. Except these did not come from the outside. They were pink bulges, tinged with red. Dried blood crusted the edges." Granna's eyes dripped with sympathy. "It was you, trying to get free of the womb."
Tressa gasped. Of all the stories Granna had told her, this was one she'd never heard before. One she wasn't sure she wanted to hear now. But she kept silent.
"I would have called for the physic, but I knew he would discover the truth. So I cut into your mother myself. I did it to free you."
"And my mother?" Tears gathered at the corners of Tressa’s eyes.
"I pulled you out of her. She asked to hold you, so I rested you on her chest. You appeared fully human, except your eyes were red. Slitted like the dragon. Your hands were claws." Granna paused, taking a deep breath.
Trouble rumbled in Tressa's stomach. "What about my mother?"
"She saw your eyes and your hands. She screamed." Granna's hands covered her face, but Tressa could still see her tears streaming, breaking through the barrier. “I was able to soothe the dragon in you. I helped that side of you stay hidden until you instinctively learned to control it yourself.”
"Did the sight of me send her into shock? Did that kill her?" Tressa held her breath, waiting for the answer.
"No," Granna said, slumping over, hands on her knees and tears falling onto her lap. "I killed her to protect your secret."
Tressa jumped out of her chair and headed for the door, her heart pounding.
"Wait, don't go," Granna pleaded. “There’s more. You must let me finish. Please.”
Tressa's hand rested on the doorknob. She could leave. Fi would take her out of the Ruins of Ebon if she asked. Tressa had no fear they would trap her here as they had in Risos.
"If you still hate me when I'm done, then you may leave and I won't try to stop you," Granna said. "I won't hurt you. No one here will lay a hand on you. You have nothing to lose by staying and hearing me out."
Tressa’s heart told her to stay. Her head screamed at her to run. Ultimately, her head gave in to her heart.
"Due to the rough pregnancy and birth your mother had a poor chance of survival. We had no magic-trained healers in our town. The villagers believed magic had gone with the fog. They quickly learned to fear what they did not understand. Tressa, if I hadn't helped your mother to die, the others would have seen how you were born. They would have killed you out of fear. And your mother would have died in the end. She was beyond saving. And you! I had to keep you from getting pregnant or you could die too! I did all of this to save you."
Granna may have ruled Hutton’s Bridge with an iron fist, but she had a bigger heart than anyone Tressa had ever met. Her eyebrows furrowed. But there were lies she’d told. The broken promises. And now this.
Tressa spun around. Who was the woman in front of her? Years had seemingly been erased since her death. Yet she had the same caring blue eyes. The same arms that had held Tressa when she was forced to give up Bastian. The same hand Tressa had held when Granna took her final breaths in her cottage back home.
"Why not just let me die?" Tressa asked. "Why save me?"
Granna's eyes drifted to her hands, folded in her lap. "Weakness. You were the dragon child I wanted for so long. You proved my connection to Mestifito was real."
"That's it?" Tressa spat back. "Because I was proof you had dragon blood in you?"
"I had to protect you. I had foreseen great changes in the Dragonlands many years before, but I didn't know who it belonged to. That dark night when you were born, I finally knew. It was you."
"The visions again," Tressa said. "Before you died you said you'd seen me leave Hutton's Bridge. You said you'd seen yourself there. That your visions told you so. But they were wrong because you died before I left. In fact, your death changed everything. Udor called off the yearly trek into the fog. He said we didn't have to leave. but a virus that was spreading into the village caused your death. We had no choice. We had to leave to look for a cure."
Granna's eyes widened. "Impossible. What killed me was no virus. I know because I made myself sick. It was not contagious."
“You di
d what?” Tressa’s hands shook. The lies of omission piled on top of each other like stones on a cairn, stacked precariously over the remains of their relationship.
“It was time for me to leave. I took a draught that would mimic illness and death. But I took it too soon. I thought I’d be around long enough to see you leave. I can assure you, what took me wasn’t the same thing that killed the other villagers. Their paranoia led them to a false conclusion.” Granna patted Tressa’s hands.
The explanation didn’t calm her. It only fueled her anger. “But others died within the week, suffering the same symptoms as you. Though by the time Bastian fought his way back through the fog and returned to the village, the virus had died out. No one else was sickened.” Tressa rubbed her chin and looked at her great-grandmother. “Does this have anything to do with the honey?”
Granna’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you asking about the honey?”
So she knew something. She had to. “I know the Red was after it and that it’s tied to the bees in Hutton’s Bridge. If you know something, I want you to tell me. Lives have been put on the line too many times. I’m tired of not knowing why.”
“I don’t have answers for you, Tressa. We also know the honey is important to the Red. Mestifito has spent his life trying to discover their reasons, but he has yet to find one. There is much mystery surrounding the honey.”
Tressa stood. “I don’t believe you. After all the secrets and lies, how can I believe anything you say?” She stormed out of the room, leaving Granna behind.
Chapter Eleven
A man stood outside her door, his heels together, toes pointed out. A sword hung from his waist.
Avital bowed. "Hello."
Tressa started, her back hitting the door. “What are you doing here?” Jarrett’s brother was the last person she expected to see in the Charred Barrens. She hadn’t heard anything about him since sneaking into Malum the night of the Descent Festival. In the chaos, Jarrett had lost track of his brother. He’d assured everyone Avital could take care of himself.
“I saw the Black dragons arrive during the fight. I also saw you and Jarrett fly away on one. I stole a horse and rode down to the Charred Barrens as fast as I could. For days I wandered through the dead forest, calling out Jarrett’s name. One of the people found me and escorted me down here, promising the two of you would be arriving soon.” Avital looked over Tressa’s shoulder. “Is my brother in there?”
“No.” Tressa glanced warily at the door. She didn’t want to introduce her great-grandmother to Avital. Not after the fight they’d had. Tressa grabbed Avital’s elbow, propelling him down the hall. “Jarrett stayed in the Drowned Country. He’s helping my friends find something they lost.”
“Then I will accompany you.” The words were friendly, but Avital’s expression wasn’t. They had an uneasy relationship. When Avital was around Jarrett, he came off as jovial and carefree. But he’d decided early on Tressa was a threat to his brother, and he treated her warily as one might a potential foe.
"It's not necessary," Tressa said. “If you want, I can inquire about getting a dragon to take you back to the Sands."
Avital crossed his arms over his chest. "Perhaps I should keep an eye on you.”
“Go back to your room,” Tressa said with a wave of her hand. “I’ll make sure someone finds you a way home.” She walked away, hoping he'd stay at her door, but he followed just paces behind her. Tressa increased the clip of her stride. Avital kept pace.
Tressa stopped abruptly and spun around. "Okay." She held up a hand.
Avital stopped, just an arm's reach away. "Yes?"
"I have to find a place to use the privy. Do you need to follow me there, too?"
"No. But I plan on waiting outside the door." Avital tapped his foot. “I don’t trust you, Tressa. I told you that once. Until I know I’ll be given leave to head back to the Sands, I’m going to stay close to you.”
"I may be in there for a while."
"I have nothing better to do than wait for you," Avital said. "So I will be here when you emerge."
Tressa rolled her eyes and stepped into the women's bathing room, letting the door slam behind her. Through the rising steam, she saw that the large, circular pool of water with steam rising was filled with females, from toddlers to women as old as Granna had been when she died.
"Tressa!" Fi ran over, grabbed her hand, and pulled her toward the edge of the pool.
All the women were dressed in the same bathing garb. Light linen wrapped around their bodies, allowing them to expose enough skin to clean without being indecent.
"You can change behind the curtain. I'll wait here." Fi smiled, her toothy grin relaxing Tressa.
She slipped behind the curtain and picked up one of the bathing gowns. Leaving her own clothes carefully on the bench, Tressa slipped on the linen. She took a deep breath, then headed out to the pool.
Fi smiled and waved, patting the seat on the bench next to her. Tressa pasted on a smile and sat.
"I'm sure you're overwhelmed," Fi said.
"It's a lot to take in," Tressa said as she slipped her feet into the warm water. Tingles ran up her legs, quickly relaxing all of her tense muscles. "How much do you know?"
"Likely everything," Fi said, running a sponge up and down her arm. "But I won't ask you to share until you're ready."
Tressa shrugged. "I may never be ready, so now is as good of a time as any."
Fi dropped the sponge on her lap and clapped her hands. "Everyone out,” she called.
Tressa's hands covered her mouth, horrified. She hadn't asked for the others to be kicked out. No one seemed to mind, though. Most smiled. One even patted Tressa on the shoulder as she stepped out of the water.
"Does everyone know?" Tressa asked.
Fi nodded. "Some. Your great-grandmother is a bit of a legend around here."
After the last of the women and girls had left the bathing room, Tressa relaxed a bit more.
"Do you have any children?" Tressa asked. Even now, her mind often turned to the loss of her own child and Granna’s decision to prevent her from conceiving with Bastian.
"No. I won't ever bear children. Sarah, my wife, and I would love to take in an orphan someday.” Fi took a deep breath and continued. “There are so few though. It's unusual for a child to be truly alone. Here, in the Ruins of Ebon, there is nothing more important than family. It's why I helped you without a second thought. My great-uncle and your great-grandmother are mated. To me, we are family."
"I've always wanted a sister," Tressa confessed. Someone, another woman, anyone other than Granna, to stand by her.
"Then it's settled. We are sisters forever." Fi tossed Tressa a sponge. "Now clean up. I want to show you around the rest of the city." Fi stepped out of the pool and disappeared behind a curtain.
Tressa scrubbed all over her body, ridding herself of the accumulated dirt. She felt a mess. But the sponge and warm water could only erase so much. She still bore the scars of her life; those couldn't be scrubbed away.
She closed her eyes, thinking of Jarrett and missing him. She was healed now, yes. They'd saved her in the Charred Barrens, just as Fi had promised. Unfortunately, it brought on a new set of problems. Tressa knew Jarrett had been with the queen of the Sands many times. Tressa’s dragon side wouldn't repulse him, of that she was sure. But would it change her? If she allowed them to teach her how to change into a dragon in order to have a safe birthing experience, would she become as cruel and unpredictable as her father? Was it the nature of the dragon?
She'd given up Bastian because her life had changed too much to still love him the way she had in Hutton's Bridge. Knowing the same thing could happen with Jarrett scared her more than all the truths she'd learned this day. She was exhausted from all of the upheaval. All she wanted was a simple, easy life. Unfortunately, nothing seemed farther out of reach.
The door to the bathing room swung open and three guards marched in, dressed in full uniform. "My lady, Fionette, we
are under attack. You are needed."
Fi gasped, emerging from behind the curtain. She pulled her shirt over her head and joined the men. "Tressa," she said, "I suggest getting back to your room. Don't delay. I'll check in on you later."
Tressa cupped her hands, letting the water rinse her shaking limbs. Another battle. If Avital had followed her here, who else might have brought the battle to the city under the Charred Barrens?
Chapter Twelve
Tressa retreated to her room, Avital on her heels. Before he could enter, she slammed the door in his face. Granna had left. Good. She sat down on her bed, twisting her hands in her lap. Under attack? From whom?
Guilt washed over her. Everyone had thought the Black extinct until they came out of hiding to rescue Tressa and her friends in Malum. Now everyone knew they were still alive and anyone could be coming after them—though she quickly narrowed it down to two parties.
The Red and the Yellow. The Blue's only dragon was off looking for his eggs, and the Green were still trapped in the Meadowlands.
Anger wasn't far behind the guilt. Tressa stood up, stomping her feet on the floor and threw the door open. "We're going to fight," she told Avital.
He cracked a smile, the same she'd seen the day she met him. "Finally. I was beginning to think my brother had chosen a meek woman."
"Then you don't know me," Tressa said.
Together they stalked through the halls and out the castle gate where the people were gathering. Dragons filled streets. Men and women dressed in thick armor holding swords kissed loved ones goodbye. They joked with each other, grand smiles on their faces. Chests were pounded, swords clanged, and eager battle whoops carried on the still underground air.
"How will they all get out of here?" Avital asked. "The dragons cannot fit in the tunnels we took down here."
"I don't know." Tressa searched the crowd for any faces she recognized, quickly finding Fi's. Tressa called out her friend's name and waved her hands in the air.