by Kayla Wolf
Her father was carrying plates indoors, and when she pulled her eyes away from the sky, she saw Caleb’s eyes fixed on her, bright and intent in the firelight.
”Quinn,” he said, his voice low and taut—and she rose to her feet abruptly, her chest suddenly full of foreboding. She didn’t like this man, didn’t trust him, didn’t want anything to do with him for the moment—and mumbling an excuse, she beat a hasty retreat indoors, her hands shaking. Inside, she stood for a moment, her heart beating dizzily in her chest.
What was wrong with her? Why had she felt so strange when she’d looked into the sky like that? Who was this Caleb guy, anyway… and why did she get such an overwhelming sense that he had ulterior motives?
Chapter 5 – David
This was insane, David knew that on some level. He could feel it in the way his heart had been pounding ever since he’d met the Oracle, in the way his skin tingled at the idea of setting out into the wild blue unknown to track down a woman he’d never even heard of, who according to some combination of magic and the sky itself was destined to be his mate. It was completely ridiculous. But sitting on a soft, comfortable couch in Amara’s palace, surrounded by five people who believed firmly in the completely mad thing he was about to do, he was hard pressed to argue against it.
”It’s just—what am I meant to say to her? Hi, I’m David, a witch told me you’re my soulmate, I’m here to save your life?”
”That’s basically what these guys said to me when I met them,” Amara pointed out. She and her four mates had gathered to prepare David for his journey. “It worked just fine.”
”She’s going to think I’m crazy.”
”Everyone worth knowing is a little crazy,” Beckett said brightly. The hawk had a restless energy—he kept shifting in place, fidgeting and moving, but his sharp, keen eyes were fixed on David. “And if she’s meant for you, David, that won’t be an obstacle to your love for long.”
”It just feels ridiculous to talk about love when I haven’t even met her,” David grumbled.
”So don’t talk about love. Focus on the mission.” That was Tobiah, a panther shifter. Stoic, grounded, with dark eyes and a steady demeanor. “Keep her safe first, talk about everything else after.”
”There’s going to be some guy there who’s trying to steal her from you, right? Focus on fighting him.” Cole interrupted. The wolf was clearly very excited about this whole situation—he’d even offered to come with David on his quest. The idea of having backup was tempting—but Amara had pointed out that this woman, whoever she was, was already going to be contending with two strange men turning up on her doorstep. No need to add a third to the mix.
”Or just see how it goes?” Luke suggested. The bear was a little shyer than the others, a sweet young man with a very gentle demeanor. “You don’t have to charge in guns blazing. Just—take it as it comes.”
”Good advice,” Amara said decisively. “And you’ve got a phone now, so you can always touch base with us if you need backup.”
David nodded, glancing down at the sleek black rectangle in his hands. He’d always been a bit distrustful of technology. There was a landline at the cabin where he’d stayed for so long—it had been cutting-edge technology when he’d installed it. Now, apparently, landlines were laughably antiquated. But he didn’t trust this mobile phone. How did it make contact with other people, if not through wires? Very unsettling. Luke had explained very patiently how it worked, walking him through the process of charging it and of using it to send messages and make calls. David got the sense that he’d been through a similar experience trying to explain mobile phones to Amara. Dragons were a little antiquated, it seemed. It felt strange to know how quickly the world seemed to be moving on without him.
”I’d better get going,” he said, looking down at the compass. “No idea how long I’ll have to fly to find her, and it’s going to be clear skies tomorrow. No daytime flying.”
”Good luck, David,” Amara said sincerely, rising to pull him into a hug. “Keep us updated, yeah?”
”And don’t take any crap from this rival guy,” Cole said, thumping him on the back. “Beat him up if you have to.”
”But only if you have to,” Tobiah countermanded, exasperation in the old panther’s eyes. Still, David could sense the affection between the two that underlay their banter. “No need to pick an unnecessary fight.”
”I’ll avoid it if I can.”
”Last resort,” Beckett said softly. “Much more to be gained by watching and waiting, in my experience.” The hawk clapped him affectionately on the back.
Luke pulled him into a hug. “Give me a call if you need help with the phone!” David didn’t bother asking what he should do if he needed help making a call. Luke had done all he could—it was up to him now.
”Thank you,” he said to them all, turning back before he readied himself to shift form. The night sky above was cold and crisp, the stars gleaming. “For everything.”
”Good luck, David,” Amara said softly. “We’ll all be rooting for you.”
Winging his way into the sky, David couldn’t help but smile to himself. It was strange, the friendships he’d made. For such a solitary hermit of a dragon, he was doing okay on the social front. Years ago, he’d never have believed himself capable of zooming off into the middle of nowhere on this kind of mad quest. But something about it just felt right. Maybe it was the beauty of the stars above him, or the cool air whipping past him, but he couldn’t help but feel that wherever he was going, it was in the right direction.
With a brief stop, of course. He took a detour up north to his home, winging down to a stealthy stop on the heights of the home he used to share with his sisters and his father. To his great relief, Olivia was still awake, settled on their couch frowning over a stack of papers. She looked up when he slipped into the room, a look of confusion on her face.
”David? Where have you been?”
”Long story,” he said quickly. “I need you to cover for me.”
She frowned. “What’s going on? You’re not leaving again, are you?”
”For a little bit,” he said—and shut his eyes at the flicker of betrayal that crossed Olivia’s face. His sister folded her arms, those green eyes burning. “Olivia—listen. It’s not like before. I’m not going for good. Just for a little while.” He tried to explain what had happened to him—the little book of prophecy, the visit with Amara to the oracle. He showed her the compass, stowed safe and sound in the pocket of his jeans.
”So—your soulmate’s waiting for you off in the southeast somewhere,” Olivia said slowly. “You have to go fight some guy and save her from some vague threat. And you know this because of… fortunetellers.”
”Can you trust me? Please?” He spread his hands, beseeching. “Just this once. I can’t tell Dad myself, you know how he’ll get. Can you just—tell him I’m staying on in Unity for a bit, helping them with something—”
”You really believe this stuff?”
”I don’t know,” he said, trying to be honest. “It could all just be—stupid. But Olivia, something about it just feels—like I need to be there. I need to follow this.”
She looked at him for a long moment in the darkness. “I’ve never seen you this focused on something,” she said finally, and he stifled the urge to whoop, hurling himself across the floor to pull her into a bone-crushing hug. “Oh, get off me. You have to keep in touch, okay? Do you even have a phone—”
”Yes!” he laughed, yanking it out of the satchel he was carrying. “Look! Olivia—thank you. Thank you thank you thank you. I owe you huge, okay?”
”You do,” she said darkly, but he could tell she was suppressing a smile. And once she’d entered her number into his phone—and forced him to show her that he knew how to call her—he was away again, airborne and exultant. He was on his way. He didn’t know where he was going, or what was awaiting him there… all he knew was that every beat of his wings that drew him closer to his destina
tion felt better and better. The feeling of being in motion didn’t come to him often. He had to admit, he could see the appeal.
In the end, the trip took a couple of days. He landed every hour or so to check the compass and ensure he was still on the right track. When the day dawned bright and cloudless, he landed and shifted again, before checking into a nondescript little motel in a human town for a day of sleep. Luke had set him up some kind of credit card on the phone—he was fiercely grateful to the bear as he plugged the strange little rectangle in to charge, and though it took him a solid half-hour to remember how to do it, he sent him a message to pass on his gratitude. The response came almost instantly.
LUKE: Glad you’re on your way. Amara and the guys say good luck and safe travels!
He drifted off to sleep, telling himself that he really needed to get better at this technology thing.
David woke up around sunset, itching to get going again, but forced himself to pack his satchel and wait patiently until dark came properly. It wouldn’t do any good to give the world its first-ever dragon sighting just because he was excited to get to where he was going. Technology was wonderful, he was coming around to that opinion—but it was also making it harder and harder for shifters to continue their undisturbed lives. Gone were the days when humans had no way of keeping records of the things they saw—all it would take was one injudicious daytime flight, a single cell-phone photograph, and they’d have a lot of trouble on their collective hands. David liked humans just fine, from what he’d learned about them—but he wasn’t ready for a world where they all knew exactly who and what he was. Human beings didn’t exactly have a great track record dealing with people who were different from then. (Then again—neither did shifters.)
Once it was dark, he moved away from the motel, looking for an unobtrusive spot to change shape. The landscape out here was already different—drier, more arid, dust and sand replacing soil and rock. He checked the compass one last time, making sure he was still headed in the right direction, before tucking it away in the satchel and changing shape. The satchel (as well as his clothes) shifted with him—a useful skill he was grateful to have retained. It had been a long time since he’d done much travelling.
He flew on, scanning the ground below him. The further out he got, the fewer human settlements gleamed below him—the lights got further and further apart. David remembered vaguely that this part of the country was dominated by a great desert. He landed once or twice to check the compass, but it was still steering him straight on. Apprehension began to rise. Why was he being guided to the middle of a desert? There was nothing out here. Unless the great danger he was supposed to be saving his soulmate from was being lost in a desert? In that case, he’d better hurry.
Oddly enough, as he flew, he felt less and less the urge to check the compass. There was something else taking over—some kind of instinct, deep in his chest, pulling him on. He knew he was on the right path—the stars at his back, the wind under his wings, all of it was urging him onwards, telling him where he was going. And when he felt a strange tugging at his heart, he entered a dive without even thinking about it, as though it was the most natural thing in the world. It was very early in the morning, the sky still dark—but below him, he could make out a single point of light. As he dove, he realized it was shining in the window of a house. A human settlement?
No—there was something strange about it, something that didn’t make sense. It took him a few minutes to realize what the problem was. No roads. Not so much as a dirt path led up to the doorway of the house, for all that it stood on the edge of what looked like a great estate, a lush garden ringed by a stone wall. That didn’t make any sense, either. How could something so green and verdant grow in the middle of a desert like this? For miles around, David could see nothing but dirt and rock—and yet here stood a lush, green oasis? He flared his wings as he descended, slowing himself, and landed neatly outside of the wall of the garden.
Now what, David? He shifted form beside what looked like a gate, scuffing at the talon-marks he’d made in the dust after he was back in his human form. If the oracle was to be believed, there was an enemy around. No sense showing what he was unless he absolutely had to. After a moment’s hesitation, he tried the garden gate—it swung open easily under his hand.
He wandered into the garden, staring around at the plant life. He was no botanist or plant expert, but even he knew that this was a bizarre thing to encounter in the middle of the desert. It was a carefully tended and cultivated garden—he wandered past an orchard of what looked like fruit trees, then through a vegetable garden. Whoever lived here, they took very good care of the place. He was no expert, but he could tell that a lot of work was needed to keep up a farm this size. Finally, he came upon what must have been the source of all this life—a small lake, which he discovered by nearly walking straight into. He stood on its shore, marveling at its presence here in the middle of the desert. What could explain such a large body of water in the middle of the desert? An underground spring, perhaps?
It had been a long flight, and he knelt to drink from the surface of the water. The water was icy cold as he dipped his hands into it, and he gasped, recoiling a little. The sky was gray—dawn mustn’t be too far away—but the long night had chilled the water, or so it seemed. He cleaned the dust from his hands gratefully before using them to scoop some of the water to his mouth. It was unbelievably cold and clear, seeming to shock his whole body as he swallowed—but the effect wasn’t unpleasant. If anything, it was bracing. He felt suddenly more awake, revived by the shock of cold water, as though the night’s exertion had faded away a little.
Could it be magic, he wondered? It wasn’t the kind of conclusion he’d usually come to—but it had been a deeply strange couple of days. And there was something about the feeling of the water on his hands and in his body that made him think of that afternoon with the Oracle—of the gray-blue point of light he’d reached for on that strange, firey map Hera had shown him. How much of that had been real, and how much had been a dream? And did it matter? Was the lake the thing he’d been sent to find? He certainly felt no impulse to move from its side, he realized as he settled into a more comfortable sitting position. The stone shore of the lake was comfortable, and its surface was calm. He put his satchel down, crossing his legs and staring out over the waters.
”Well? What now?” he murmured to himself. It was barely dawn—even if his soulmate was nearby, he didn’t want to crash in on her so early. The strange feeling he’d felt in his chest was gone, the feeling that had led him down here—he felt content just to sit and wait for something to happen, whatever that might be. Out of curiosity, he scooped the compass out of his satchel, glancing down at its surface. To his surprise, the needle had moved. Where before it had been pointing steadily to the south-west, now the needle was pointing due south—and vibrating slightly, as though whatever it was pointing at was close.
Interesting. For a moment, David considered getting up and following the needle’s path—but something held him back. Under the compass in his satchel lay his phone. He pulled it out, frowning at its surface a little as he tried to remember how to use it. He’d promised to stay in touch, after all. Practice had helped—it was a little easier to tap out a halting message to Olivia, explaining that he’d arrived at the place he was meant to be. David spent a few minutes drafting the message, trying to make it seem like he had a much clearer idea of what he was doing than he actually did, then hit send when he was satisfied. By now, the sky was much lighter—he could feel warmth beginning to enter the air as the sun rose. One more message—this one to Luke, telling him (and by extension, Amara and the rest of her mates) that he’d arrived.
He was so invested in the process of ensuring that the messages had reached their intended recipients that he didn’t hear the sound of footsteps behind him. Didn’t hear anything at all, actually, until the soft sound of the clearing of a throat startled him so badly he almost flung the phone into the lake. H
e shoved it hard into his bag instead, spinning around in shock to see a man standing behind him—a suntanned man with sandy brown-blond hair and keen yellow eyes.
”Who are you?” came the man’s level voice. “You don’t belong here.”
David got to his feet, heart still pounding from the shock of the man’s sudden appearance. “No. Sorry. I—I’m David. I’m lost.”
”Lost,” the man repeated, tilting his head to the side. There was something watchful in those eyes, something sharp and a little worrying. Something that reminded David of Cole, somehow, Amara’s mate—the wolf had a similar way of sizing people up, a kind of inbuilt wariness. “And where are you lost from, dragon?”
He took a breath. The guy was a shifter, then. A human wouldn’t recognize a dragon on sight like that. Neither would some shifters, actually—it was mostly wolves who could spot a dragon on sight. But wolves had silver eyes. This guy’s were yellow, sharp, and keen. David had never met anyone with yellow eyes before.
”I’m from up north,” he said levelly, trying to keep calm. “I was sent here by an Oracle. Sent to help.”
”We don’t need your help,” the shifter said, his voice low and threatening as he took a menacing step forward. “And if I were you, little dragon, I’d turn tail and fly straight back home—”
”Caleb?”
An unfamiliar woman’s voice sounded from the trees. David had never heard it in his life—but for some reason, a lightning bolt shot down his spine at the sound of it. The other shifter whipped around too, scrubbing the look of menace from his face as a woman stepped into the clearing. A tall woman with black hair cropped close to her head.
A woman with eyes the same breathtaking blue-gray as the water of the lake.
Chapter 6 – Quinn
Quinn had heard Caleb come to her bedroom door the night before. She’d been lying awake, the light on by her bedside table, trying to read a little to settle herself before sleeping—the day had been long and frustrating, and her mind was refusing to settle, to stop ticking and rattling like a run-down railroad car. The book she was reading didn’t help much, of course—it was about sustainable farming, and was written in such a dry tone that it would have put her to sleep if she wasn’t so wired. As it was, she just found it impossible to concentrate.