by Kayla Wolf
It was midmorning, he realized as he staggered out into the living room. Time had flown past them that morning—it already felt like it was a thousand miles and a million years away, that bed, the tangled sheets, the sensation of her body against his. The way her eyes had glowed in the low light of dawn, the way she’d kissed him and touched him, the breathless sound of her laughter… he shut his eyes hard against the morning light, trying to banish those thoughts as much as he could. He’d never felt on the verge of collapsing like this before. It was a peculiar feeling.
The ice pack was sitting on the table, the one Quinn had used last night to soothe his injured face. He picked it up gently, feeling the liquid inside it squish around. Moving mechanically, he rinsed it in the sink, adding soap for good measure in case any blood had gotten onto it, then dried it carefully and placed it in the freezer. He knew he was stalling. Quinn had told him to get out, and this was her house—he had no right to be here any longer. It was time to go. Time to leave, and never come back.
Was this what the Oracle had wanted, he wondered emptily as he moved out onto the patio? Had she sent him down here, knowing that he was going to have his heart so completely broken by what was fated to occur? How much of the future had Hera seen, exactly, when she’d handed him the compass and told him that his soulmate needed him? Because that was what she was, he knew that the same way he knew that the sky was blue and things fell when you dropped them. She was his soulmate. All he could hope for, now, was that he wasn’t hers—that she could find happiness with someone else, someday. Someone who wouldn’t hurt her so badly.
Someone who didn’t have a father like his.
It was hard to think straight. All David wanted was to disappear into the desert, to find some tiny shack somewhere and spend a week solid just lying flat on his back and staring at the sky. There was always clarity out there, in the darkness, between the stars. Maybe if he looked closely enough, he could figure out how it was that the Oracle saw the future in the stars. Maybe he could figure out a course of action that would make things better for Quinn, somehow. Repair at least some of the damage he’d done.
”David?”
He started, almost dropping his satchel at the sound of the voice behind him. There was Charles, a basket of eggs in one hand, wearing a pair of bright yellow gumboots that almost made him feel a little more cheerful. The old dragon took one look at David’s face and frowned.
”What’s the matter?”
”Charles, I—I have to leave, I’m afraid. Thank you so much for your hospitality—” He felt himself on the edge of tears and took a deep, steadying breath, trying to regain at least some control of himself. Embarrassing, to be about to fall apart in front of this much older dragon. His father had always made him feel so small if he was ever anything less than composed in front of him, and some part of him looked up at Charles, expecting ridicule.
But all Charles did was pull out a chair from the table on the patio and gesture for him to sit. Without even realizing he was doing it, he obeyed, sitting down hard in the seat, and Charles squeezed his shoulder hard, a gesture that simultaneously comforted him and made him want to burst into tears again. “Tell me what happened,” the dragon commanded, but there was so much kindness in his voice that it hardly felt like an order.
“I—Quinn and I—we—“ How was he supposed to tell this story? But Charles cut him off.
”I know. I saw the way you two were looking at each other,” he said softly, and there was a mix of joy and sorrow on his face. “You can’t fool an old dragon for long.”
”She didn’t know—she didn’t realize…” He took a deep breath. He had to take more responsibility than that. “I didn’t tell you—either of you. My father is William, of the dragon valley. He’s the one—”
”—the one who took our home from us, yes, I know,” Charles said simply. David stared at him, utterly lost for words. “I’m an old man, but I’m not that forgetful,” Charles chided him. “You think I’d look into a pair of eyes like yours and not make the connection? I’ve known who you were since you got here, David.”
”Then why—” He was reeling. “Why did you let me stay? Why did you take me in? If you knew my father was—”
”Are you your father? Are you anything like him?”
David took a deep breath. “I hope not, but—”
”Then why should I let his actions decide how I feel about you? You’re your own man, David.” Charles reached over to squeeze his shoulder again. “And everything you’ve done since you got here has made that clear as day to me. You flew halfway across the country to help a couple of strangers because an Oracle told you we were in danger. You tolerated active hostility from Caleb and responded with nothing but kindness, even though you suspected he was up to no good. You fought to defend my daughter—not that she really needs defending,” Charles added with a twinkle in his eye, “but nevertheless. And when my daughter told you to leave—well, you left.”
”Almost,” David pointed out, gesturing at the chair he was sitting in.
”Well, I stopped you, but still. You were going to charge off down the road and never return, weren’t you? David, you may be your father’s son, but that doesn’t mean you’re anything like him. Sometimes, we turn out just like our parents, it’s true… but sometimes, we take them as a model of everything we should choose not to be. I can see that in you, David.” Charles smiled at him. “Quinn will see that too, I hope. Eventually.”
”She doesn’t want anything to do with me,” David protested, his heart pounding. Even the suggestion of hope had sent a wild, hopeless burst of joy surging into his chest—but he knew better than to let it take hold. “She told me to leave, I can’t go against her wishes—”
”Of course you can’t. You’re a good man. But I know my daughter a little better than you do just yet, David,” Charles said. “I know her moods. She’s got a good heart, but there’s a lot of anger in her. Give her time to realize that her anger is with William, not with you.”
“I don’t—I can’t just hang around here hoping she’ll change her mind,” David said blankly. “What am I supposed to do, just… stand in the garden like a scarecrow?”
Charles’s lip twitched. “Well, we’ve been having problems with a persistent flock of birds, but… no. No, but I think I can find a use for you here. I have a suspicion that the problems with the coyotes are just beginning,” the old dragon said, glancing thoughtfully towards the direction of the garden gates. “Caleb didn’t seem like the kind of man to give up easily. He had designs on Quinn, I know that much from the way he was behaving with her. So many men seem to think that being arrogant is all that’s needed to win a woman’s heart. Quinn has more than enough arrogance to be getting on with,” he added with a grin. “Don’t tell her I said that. But I suspect …” Charles took a deep breath. “David, can I let you in on a family secret?”
David blinked, trying to gather his wits about him. The whiplash of the day was only just beginning, it seemed. To go from such a high point with the love of his life in his arms, to complete and abject despair when she kicked him out, to this strange suggestion that not all might be lost… and now Charles was offering him family secrets? Would Quinn object? After all, she was furious with him—she’d hate the idea that he was getting closer to her father.
Charles sighed. “I promise, this doesn’t need to have anything to do with Quinn, David. I’ll admit, hearing that the Oracle sent you down to us… I was relieved. I’ve been worried about the coyotes in these parts for a very long time. When we landed here, more than a century ago, I was… desperate. I wasn’t in a good way. Something was wrong with my mate, I’d just lost my home, I was terrified for the safety of my infant daughter… I knew these lands weren’t uninhabited, but I was so desperate that I claimed them anyway. I regret it,” the old dragon said softly. “I regret what I’ve done, the lands I’ve claimed, but it’s too late to amend that now. The coyotes want this land. They want the water source,
they want their territory back, and I suspect they intend to launch an attack sometime soon.”
”Caleb,” David said blankly, putting some pieces together. “I knew he was up to something—he said as much.”
”A scout, I suspect. Perhaps making a last-ditch effort at reclaiming the land by stealth. The water source, you see… it’s not natural. The lake is the product of an old family artefact, a stone the color of our eyes.” Charles blinked his blue-gray eyes, smiling a little. “I don’t doubt your family has a similar talisman, an emerald, I’d imagine. Most old dragon families do.”
A memory stirred in David’s mind—something their king Alexander had said at a gathering, a long time ago. Something about a topaz, an enormous stone with a magical quality that made the dragons that grew up around it larger and stronger than they would have been otherwise. “The royal family—”
”Yes, the topaz. Reagan showed it to me once,” Charles said, smiling a little sadly. “She was quite a queen. I wonder how her son is doing?”
”Pretty well, from what I can tell,” David smiled, feeling a little embarrassed to be so out of the loop. Charles was clearly fiercely curious about his old home. “Where did you live? Back when you were in the valley?”
”Down the other end,” Charles said, smiling softly to himself though David could see the pain in his eyes. “A patch of land on the very edge of the valley, steep and rocky, with a stream tumbling down the slopes…”
David’s eyes widened. “The very end of the valley?”
”Yes. It was beautiful. The stone, our artefact… I kept it in a cave at the peak of the mountain, and a stream tumbled from there right down the slope into the valley at the bottom. If you think this farm is beautiful… oh, you should have seen it.”
David’s mind was reeling. “Charles—my father still has a claim to that land. The stream is gone, and it’s arid, but—it’s still there. Just the same. He suggested I build myself a home there.”
”I’m not surprised,” Charles said softly. “You should, David. There’s a beautiful view of the sky at night. For a dragon like you—”
”But it doesn’t belong to me,” David said blankly. “Charles—it belongs to you and Quinn! You should both come back. My father gave the land to me, I can give it back to you—”
”And tear your family apart? I don’t think so, David. The damage would be too severe. We live here now. This is our home.”
”But the coyotes—”
”Yes, the coyotes. That’s what I wanted to talk about.” And though Charles’s face didn’t shift, something in the tone of his voice told David that the conversation about the valley was well and truly over. Still, impatience seethed in his chest. He’d known there was something strange about the land his father had offered him to build a home on—and now he knew the full story. William had stolen the land, then found that it wasn’t quite the prize he’d thought it was, with its true inhabitants banished. But why didn’t Charles want to go back? He’d moved the stone once, surely he could restore it to its proper home? He remembered Quinn’s impatience with her father, her resentment that he didn’t seem to want to change anything that was wrong with their lives—he was beginning to understand her frustration, now. But he held his tongue. These dragons still needed his help—and he wasn’t going to risk alienating the one person who was still willing to keep him around.
”If you wouldn’t mind being put on guard duty,” he said with a smile. “The coyotes, I suspect, have been circling the garden walls for a long time, planning to mount an attack. Perhaps if you were to patrol, they would be put off the idea for a little longer. A show of strength. They have us outnumbered, that’s true, but I think even a large pack would think twice about attacking three adult dragons.”
David nodded—he’d thought as much. “Coyotes—do they fight like wolves?”
”I believe so,” Charles said heavily. “They share a little of the same mind-sharing ability, from what I can gather. Close cousins. But I’m hoping it won’t come to a fight. With any luck, diplomacy will triumph. Perhaps I can barter with them—offer them some of the sacred water in exchange for peace. We haven’t had much luck reaching out before, but perhaps, if things are escalating enough that they sent Caleb to us…” Charles sighed. “Desperate times, I’m afraid. And dangerous. I wouldn’t ask this of you, David, if it weren’t for the Oracle. I trust her judgment—trust that you’re here for a reason. And I trust that you care for my daughter.”
”More than anything,” David said simply, feeling his heart twist in his chest. “If there’s anything I can do that will help keep her safe, I’ll do it.”
”Thank you, David,” Charles said simply. “I know these are confusing times, and I know very little of the future. All I can offer you is hope. Hope that she’ll work through her demons, hope that she’ll realize that she and you are on the same side. Hope that some kind of resolution can be reached with these coyotes. Hope is a fragile thing, but—well, it can sustain all manner of wonders, can’t it?” The old dragon smiled, rising to his feet. “I’ll speak to Quinn. I’ll tell her I’ve retained your services as a guard, at least for the time being—don’t worry, her anger will be with me, not with you. I can take it,” he added with a wink. “And we’ll take it from there, I suppose.”
”Charles—thank you. For everything.” David rose to his feet, reaching out to shake the old dragon’s hand. “I hope I can—do something useful. Be something useful, to you both.”
”One day at a time, my friend,” was all Charles said, shuffling off inside with the basket of eggs under his arm. “Something will happen eventually, we’ll just have to see what it is.”
David stared after him, strangely comforted by the old dragon’s bizarre brand of wisdom. There was a lot of uncertainty, it was true—the potential for great danger loomed in his future, too. But he was allowed to stay. He’d have a chance to protect Quinn from whatever danger was coming, from the prophecy shared with him by the Oracle. And though he tried to beat it down, a dogged flame of hope had lit up in his chest that she would forgive him, that maybe one day they could find a way to be together.
It would be enough. For now, it was going to have to be enough.
Chapter 12 – Quinn
She stayed in the room for a long time after he’d left. It felt like her whole mind had gone blank. Her body was still buzzing pleasantly with the afterglow of what they’d done together—the feeling felt absolutely, abjectly alien to her, as though her whole body belonged to someone else. Some other version of her, some foolish, naive manifestation of her psyche that actually believed that something good was capable of happening to her.
She’d thought she understood betrayal. On some level, she knew that was what her mother had done to her, to her father—she’d betrayed them, as utterly as anyone could betray anyone, by leaving. What else could you call it, abandoning your soulmate and your young daughter to a hostile new home, leaving them to piece together their lives in your absence? Not that she’d dealt especially well with that betrayal, Quinn thought ruefully, reflecting on the decades of avoidance, of not thinking about it, of making up excuse after excuse—she hadn’t left, she’d been kidnapped, she’d been forced, she was somewhere waiting for them, it would all be explained… no, she’d been abandoned. Left. Betrayed. And here she was, a hundred years later, going through the exact same thing.
Well, it was progress at least that she’d made David leave. She hadn’t waited for him to leave her—she’d found out what she needed to know about him, figured out his secret, and then she’d expelled him. Was it really a secret, some part of her wondered? He’d been happy enough to volunteer the information… but that line of thought was too rational for the hurt she was feeling, so she shut it down. She was in control of this, of the awful, sick pounding of her heart, of the hot burning behind her eyes. This was all under her control. So why did it feel so horrible? Why did that weak, treacherous part of her want nothing more than to hurl the bedcloth
es off, to tear the chair away from the door, to go running after him and hurl herself into his arms? To forgive him?
No. She could never forgive him for what he’d done. And more to the point—she could never forgive what his father had done. Fresh anger surged into her as she thought about those bright green eyes. Her father had mentioned, once or twice, that their old nemesis William had emerald-green eyes. Why hadn’t she made the connection? Why hadn’t he? There must be some family resemblance, right? Even in their human shapes, dragons tended to inherit certain qualities—she had her father’s black hair, for example, and a little of his firm jawline though the rest of the shape of her face, he’d told her, was definitely her mother’s. And of course, there were the eyes. Eyes were passed down through the maternal line, in dragons. The blue-gray eyes she shared with her father had originated with her mother. Which meant that David—and William’s—eyes, they came from his mother.
That was an interesting thing, she thought grimly, picking through the information she’d gleaned about David in this new, awful light. David had said his mother had left them, just like hers had. Well, she didn’t blame her, leaving a dragon like William. How had she ever fallen for him in the first place? Just more evidence that the concept of soulmates was deeply flawed.
God, there was another thing to consider. She felt sick at the thought of the conversation they’d had, the way they’d almost spoken about being mates. But was she so wrong to have assumed that? They’d had such a strong connection, such a close bond so early on… and their physical chemistry was unbelievable, too, she thought with a blush rising unbidden to her cheeks. She’d had no reason at all to doubt that there was something there, that on some level they were meant to be together. Was it still possible that they could be soulmates? Of course not, she thought, shaking her head fiercely to clear it. What a stupid idea. He was the son of her worst enemy, the inheritor of her rightful family home. He was her enemy. He was one of the dragons she and her father would need to defeat if they were to reclaim her home.