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18

THE SECOND COMING

A large crag rose up to our right. It was off course, but it was our best bet. An outcropping of rock or a thick copse of trees would do. Something to shield us from large birds of prey we couldn't see coming. Thanks to the men and weapons in our party, I wasn't worried about four-footed beasts—unless they came in unusually large sizes.

The problem with book descriptions was that the terms given for relative size weren't terms I was familiar with. If I'd known that a moon stalker was roughly the size of a winged steed, I wouldn't have been so surprised. But now, I realized that I had entered a land where Sweetie wasn't the only giant.

Thinking back, Old Grim wasn't so large after all. Half the size of that Guardian-dragon that had terrorized everyone on the road. But maybe some were bigger still. Those that had delivered and collected the Semels were more the size of Grim. And the one Viggo flew hadn't been much larger. Maybe it was just a baby!

I told myself I was lucky to have seen any of them at all. In the last few days, I'd witnessed more of my books and maps brought to life than ever came through the canyon. Memory trees and Serpent Square. A drakehouse and a man with horns. A miniature woman who could silently control weak men.

I'd witnessed the death of my Everkind master and the death of an Everkind dragon. I’d fallen from the sky and survived, heard a man fall to his death, and now I’d seen my friend be attacked by a moon stalker.

I’d had my heart broken…

And I had yet to reach the capital city.

From time to time, when I forgot he was gone, I yearned to relay every detail to Demius. No doubt, in his endless life, he'd seen plenty of the same. But still, I wished...

"Demius," I whispered. "A moon stalker! You never warned me how big they were."

And in my mind's eye, I imagined him chuckling, then his reply…

You must not have been paying attention.

* * *

Sweetie finally lowered Minkin to the ground on a flat shelf of grass butted up against a wall of rock. With no clouds marring our view of the piercingly bright stars, we didn’t worry about rain, but the slight overhang of rock might help keep us warm.

Sweetie made Minkin comfortable while the rest of us set off in different directions to find fuel for a fire. Tearloch stopped me with my name. "Asper." He pressed the hilt of a small blade into my hand. "Scream loud if you find trouble."

I thanked him with a smile, then gave it back. “I have my own,” I said, which I pulled out of my pocket.

I was glad he didn’t intend to follow me, and I chuckled as I walked away. There was little chance a bird could carry me off, and if I met some beast on my own, I reckoned my fear and my feet could get me out of harm's way. But if that failed, I could frighten it like Demius had done, once, when a massive and hungry feline had wandered down the canyon. He'd screamed and waved his arms and jumped about like a giant angry bird, and the beast had fled for its life.

I might not be of the same size, but I could certainly carry on like an ancient madman.

I was still laughing at the memory when I pushed my way through a thick cluster of bushes that I should have walked around. When I reached the other side, I stopped short, surprised to find a large opening in the mountainside. At its pinnacle, it was as tall as three men atop one another.

The flat rock face was the color of shadow itself, and the angle of it meant the entrance would be easily missed, despite its size.

I pulled the glow stone from my pocket and moved to the edge of the opening. After listening for a long moment and hearing nothing, I entered, wondering if this might be a better shelter for Minkin.

The cave seemed shallow at first, but when I picked my way through to the back wall, I found a second opening to my right, just as large as the other. The smell of woodsmoke registered just before I noted the light of a small fire.

Fire! Heat!

If this stranger was kind, we could tend to Minkin's wounds all the faster!

I concealed my weapon in the folds of my cloak, cleared my throat to announce myself, and continued through. Absolute silence waited for me...along with a woman with dark hair that came to points on her collarbones. She held a dagger longer than mine. And behind her, a tall angry man with wings.

* * *

Tearloch worried. Everyone had returned with a contribution for the fire except for Asper. She’d smirked when he’d insisted she take his dagger with her, but now he wished he’d trailed after her. A book couldn’t teach a woman how to face off with predators, especially the two-legged sort.

A flash of purple skirts hurried closer and he exhaled in silent relief.

Her arms were empty, she struggled to catch her breath. “You know those people…who sighted a blue dragon?”

Tearloch jumped to his feet and pulled his sword. “What about them?”

“Well…they didn’t see a moon stalker.”

He wasn’t sure what she was trying to say, but he prepared for trouble. Equally confused, but no fool, Morrow freed his sword as well.

Asper laid a hand on the guard’s arm and shook her head. “I promised them they won’t be harmed. Also, there’s no need to start a fire. They already have one burning.” She turned away again. “But bring the wood.”

“Asper,” Tearloch snapped. “We need to know what we’re facing!”

She smiled, curse her. “A woman, her mate, and…her blue dragon. Oh, and don’t let his wings startle you.”

“Why would a dragon’s wings startle us?”

“Because I wasn’t talking about the dragon.”

* * *

The cavern was so impressive in size that Tearloch wondered if the entire range of Queevnar Mountains were little more than a row of shells. It was difficult to believe that only one out of fifty had been hollowed out by the same elements of time and erosion.

The back wall of sapphire blue and flashes of green shifted. A dragon huddled there. The look on its face was more perturbed than nervous. The beast was uncomfortable, but not the least concerned by our sudden appearance.

Stumbling across the blue dragon was quite a fluke. But then again, Asper was a fluke, and every time he turned around, she surprised him. If it were someone else, he would call it luck. But he didn't consider this turn of events to be lucky for anyone but Minkin.

Under Sweetie's close supervision, Asper and the new woman, Lennon, tended to the little woman’s injuries. The moans and complaints of their patient were largely ignored by the rest of their party whose attention was entirely consumed by the dragon preening at the rear of the cave.

It might have been the most beautiful creature Tearloch had ever seen. It was blue, yes, but there were highlights of green on the underbelly, limbs, and tail. There was also a green luster that came and went with each movement. Its talons were gold.

Griffon, the winged man, introduced the pretty beast as Kivi.

"I am Tearloch. This is Sweetie, Dower, Bain, and Nogel." He then introduced Morrow, who named his men as Lears and Poole.

"We are escorting Princess Asper to Ristat,” Morrow said. “I suppose that is the last place you wish to go."

Griffon finally let down his guard, and when he did so, his wings disappeared, and he pulled a garment over his bare shoulders. "What is Ristat?"

"The capital city," Morrow said.

"We were there last night…delivering our passenger."

"Passenger?"

Griffon nodded. "We barely escaped without the black dragons' notice. They've been scouring the skies non-stop. We are waiting for a break, so we can leave again. We've been given the impression that visitors are unwelcome."

Tearloch chuckled. "It's not you. It's your dragon."

"Foreign dragons are not welcome?"

"Just blue ones."

"I don't understand. What does color have to do with anything? I've seen every color dragon, and?—"

"Every color?" Bain whistled.

Morrow explained. "Typically, we only see black and gray ones. An occasional brown or albino."

"The problem isn't with your dragon," Tearloch continued. "It's with a prophecy. The most ancient prophecy of Hestia proclaims that when a blue dragon returns to the skies of Hestia, all Hestians will die."

Lennon laughed. "Your prophecy was wrong then, wasn't it? Here we are, and you all look fine to me. Besides, if there was such a risk, I can't believe Moire would have expected us to come. She would have found a dragon of a different color at least. Right?”

"Moire?" Minkin struggled to speak through her pain. "You meant the Moire, the prophetess?"

Lennon and Griffon exchanged a look, then fell silent. She turned her attention back to Minkin. Griffon used his foot to move the pile of sticks further from the fire. Neither of them answered.

Morrow wouldn't let it go. "Tell us. Who was your passenger?”

Even without his wings, Griffon loomed over the tall guard. He stepped close and waited for the guard to cower. "We have no interest in your palace intrigue. We want nothing of your politics or prophecies. We will leave tonight, and the blue dragon will never be seen again." He glanced at his mate, who nodded.

"Until then," Tearloch said, "we will stand guard with you. All of Hestia is probably hunting your Kivi in hopes they can prevent their fate. Our fate.”

Nogel finally dragged his attention away from the dragon and joined them. "I was told the king's sentries chased you off of Hestia. Why did you come back?"

"I’m afraid that was me, that first time.” Lennon waved her hand above her head. “Kivi and I followed our instincts, and they led us here."

"And your second coming was to…to deliver a passenger. Did anyone see you then? Perhaps the king doesn’t know the blue dragon returned."

Griffon shook his head. "We were seen. It's why they search the skies now.”

Tearloch knew the answer, but he asked anyway. "Where will you go?”

"Home. Earth." Lennon stood, stretched, and sighed wistfully. "I thought maybe Hestia was our home. Kivi seemed to think it was."

“Earth?” Asper laughed. “I thought that was superstition. But why would she think this is home? Don’t you have dragons on Earth? Don’t you have Everfolk?”

“Everfolk?”

“Those with magic,” Tearloch said.

“On Earth, they are called the Fae—a race of people that we believe came from here.”

Tearloch watched the radical concept register to his fellow Hestians. He was finding it difficult to believe himself. After all, Earth was believed to be the place one’s spirit went if one were to actually die. Apparently, that part was the true superstition.

He put a question to Griffon. “Is this why you speak our language? Are you one of your Everfolk?”

“I am. We believed Lennon was an Uncast until we learned she was last of the DeNoy."

"The last?” Nogel shook his head emphatically. “Hardly. There is an entire community of them in the east. It’s the only place on Hestia where you will find colored dragons. All except blue, of course. By royal decree, the DeNoy are not to be touched. And as long as they keep their population under control, the east reaches belong to them.”

"A community?" Lennon looked at her husband, her eyes suddenly wet. "I'm not the only one!"

He pulled her under his arm, squeezed her against him, and nodded to Nogel. “No blue? Why?”

“It is law. Blues must be destroyed upon hatching. They cannot be allowed to take to the skies.”

Lennon’s joy fled. “The prophecy?”

“The prophecy.” Nogel’s grimace said he was as sad about it as she was. A true devotee of dragons.

She was suddenly nervous and looked pointedly at Morrow and his men. “And what of you? Are you duty bound to turn us in?”

Morrow shook his head. “The king is not my master. I have a mistress whose interest lay in getting the princess safely to the palace.” He let Nogel speak for himself.

The young dragon rider shrugged. “Killing your blue won’t undo the curse now. And I’ve already seen one dragon die under my care. I would not see it happen again, especially to this beauty. The men I answer to are in the South, and I may never get the chance to return.” He shrugged again, then looked to Tearloch.

Tearloch hated to give the woman bad news, but she had to know. "If you think the people of Hestia are a danger to you and your dragon, the DeNoy are doubly so. They've worked hard and long over the centuries to prevent our doom. If they welcome you with open arms, they'll be hiding a blade. Count on it."

Griffon exhaled loudly. "We'll stick with the plan. We'll leave tonight." To Tearloch, he murmured, "Thank you."

“Don’t thank me yet…”