Page 17

Rachel

New York’s predawn air carries a chill that makes me shiver despite my new dragon-conjured clothing. We stand at the edge of a fountain in Central Park not far from the Court building, waiting for Naia to finish her preparations. The city's ever-present glow creates a false twilight against the darkened sky, so different from the star-filled nights on Bear Island.

"Are you certain this is wise?" Finn asks, his voice low as he watches Naia trail her fingers through the fountain water. "We could fly there after the battle."

Zahraxis stands motionless beside me, his golden eyes fixed on the rippling water. "I need this," he says simply. Through our newly formed bond, I feel the complexity beneath those words—a desperate hunger to reconnect with his homeland, to ground himself before facing yet another battle.

I squeeze his hand. "Egypt is closer to Greece than New York. If we need to, we can fly straight from there."

Zahraxis looks at me as if impressed that I understand basic geography. Before I can brush off the reaction, he says, "It seems I've been too wrapped up in my return I hadn't considered the logistics to follow. Thank you, Raelesha. That detail may even aid our battle plans. A secondary base of operations, closer to the fight, is a good idea."

"It was nothing," I say with a shrug, cheeks warming.

Naia looks up, silver light dancing across her fingertips. "I've located an anchor point near Luxor," she says. "The current is strong there—the Nile remembers its ancient paths." She rises gracefully, water streaming from her hands in defiance of gravity. "Are you ready?"

"As we'll ever be," Finn mutters, stepping forward. His aura pulses with resignation.

I swallow hard, recalling our last experience with drifting. "At least we know what to expect this time."

We join hands, forming a circle with Naia. Her skin begins to shimmer, taking on the fluid quality of moving water. "Close your eyes," she instructs, "and remember to breathe."

The world dissolves around us, and that familiar yanking sensation pulls at my core. The disorienting whirlpool effect is no less intense the second time, but I'm prepared for it, focusing on the steady pressure of Zahraxis' hand in mine. His emotions flow through our bond—anticipation, fear, hope, all swirling together like the currents carrying us across the world.

When reality snaps back into place, the first thing I notice is the heat—dry and intense betraying both the warmer environment and the later hour where we’ve arrived. My knees buckle as nausea rolls through me, but I manage to stay upright. Beside me, both dragons fare worse, dropping to their knees on the sandy bank. Finn's creative cursing fills the air while Zahraxis remains ominously silent, his golden eyes wide as he stares at the landscape around us.

"The Nile," he whispers, reaching out to touch the dark water lapping at the shore. "After all this time..."

Naia, completely unfazed by the journey, gestures toward a path winding up from the riverbank. "The Court's sanctuary is just beyond that rise. I'll return for you tomorrow at midday." She studies Zahraxis with something like reverence. "Welcome home, Ancient One." Then she dissolves into mist that merges with the river, leaving us alone on the foreign shore.

The sky is just beginning to lighten, stars fading as dawn approaches. In the distance, massive stone structures loom against the horizon—the temples of Karnak, I realize with a start. Zahraxis rises slowly, his gaze fixed on those ancient silhouettes.

"It still stands," he says, wonder and pain mingling in his voice. "After all this time, it still stands."

Finn claps a hand on his shoulder. "The Court has worked to preserve what remains of the ancient sites. They're considered heritage landmarks now."

I activate my dragon sight, curious about what energies might linger in this ancient place. The result nearly staggers me—the land itself pulses with power, golden threads of magic woven through soil and stone. They grow denser toward the temple complex, forming a tapestry of light visible only to those with the gift to see it.

"The magic," I breathe. "It's everywhere."

Zahraxis nods, unsurprised. "This land was sacred long before humans built their first mud hut beside the river. The temples were placed where the earth's power runs strongest." He takes a deep breath, seeming to taste the air. "It has changed, but its essence remains."

We follow the path up from the riverbank, my eyes adjusting to the growing light. The landscape is both alien and hauntingly beautiful, the river a dark ribbon against golden sand, palm trees swaying in the gentle breeze. As we crest the rise, a structure comes into view that makes me gasp.

The Court's sanctuary is a masterpiece of ancient and modern design. Built from golden limestone that seems to capture the first rays of sunrise, its facade features soaring columns carved to resemble papyrus stalks. Massive doors of dark wood stand open, revealing glimpses of a courtyard beyond. The building appears ancient at first glance, but closer inspection reveals subtle modern elements—nearly invisible solar panels nestled among traditional roof tiles, security cameras disguised as decorative falcons, windows of one-way glass set into stone frames.

"This is..." I struggle to find words.

"Home," Zahraxis says simply, his voice thick with emotion. "For now. Perhaps longer."

A figure emerges from the entrance—a woman in a simple white dress, her dark hair braided with gold threads. She bows deeply when she sees us. "Welcome, Golden One," she says in accented English. "I am Amara. We have awaited your return for generations. The sanctuary is prepared."

Zahraxis inclines his head, slipping effortlessly into the role of returning royalty. The gesture seems to come naturally to him, a remnant of the life he led before his imprisonment. "You have our thanks."

She leads us through the massive doors into a central courtyard where a fountain plays, the sound of water creating instant coolness against the rising heat. I pause at the railing along one side, suddenly realizing our vantage point.

"We're on an island," I say, taking in the narrow channels of the Nile flowing on both sides of the sanctuary grounds. "Right in the middle of the river."

Amara nods, a hint of pride in her smile. "Yes. The sanctuary was built on the sacred island of Djeserit," she explains. "It has always been a place of power, protected by the river itself."

Zahraxis moves to the railing, his expression distant. "I remember this place. My royal court would come here for purification rituals before major ceremonies." His fingers trace the weathered stone. "The island was believed to be the first land that emerged from the primordial waters at the beginning of creation."

Potted palms create islands of shade across the courtyard, and comfortable seating areas are arranged to catch the morning breeze. Amara guides us from the riverside view through the courtyard to a grand staircase.

"The upper chambers have been prepared," she explains. "They offer lovely views of the surrounding landscape." She gestures to various doorways as we ascend. "Bathing chambers, meditation rooms, the library with texts dating back to your era, Golden One."

Zahraxis pauses at this, his interest visibly piqued. "My era?"

"Yes, my lord. The Court has preserved what could be saved." Her expression turns apologetic. "Much was lost, but some remains. Many were returned to us by Nikhil, when he pledged his loyalty to the dragons again." I glance at Zahraxis whose expression remains neutral, but his aura pulses with recognition, and appreciation of the gesture.

We reach the upper level, where Amara shows us to a suite of rooms that takes my breath away. Floor-to-ceiling windows frame spectacular views of the Nile on either side and the temples of Karnak past the riverbank to the east. The furnishings blend modern comfort with ancient aesthetics—low divans covered in rich fabrics, tables of polished dark wood inlaid with gold, lamps that cast a warm glow reminiscent of lanternlight. Despite the traditional appearance, I spot climate controls discreetly built into the walls and modern fixtures in the adjoining bathing chamber.

That bathroom is particularly impressive, a massive space dominated by a shower large enough for three people (or one dragon), with multiple heads and a glass wall overlooking the river. A sunken tub that could double as a small pool occupies one corner, while the opposite wall features a vanity with twin basins carved from alabaster.

"This is incredible," I murmur, running my fingers along the cool stone of the vanity.

"The sanctuary was built to accommodate dragons in both forms," Amara explains. "The floors are reinforced, the ceilings high enough for shifting, provided the dragon does not wish to stretch their wings." She turns to Zahraxis. "Is there anything else you require, my lord?"

He shakes his head, visibly overwhelmed by the experience. "No. Thank you."

After Amara leaves, promising to return with refreshments, we stand in silence, absorbing our surroundings. Finn moves to the windows, looking out at the temple complex now clearly visible in the morning light.

"We should visit before the tourists arrive," he suggests. "The site opens to the public at six a.m., but the Court can arrange private access."

Zahraxis nods, his gaze fixed on the distant columns. "Yes. I would see it... as it is now."

Through our bond, I feel his conflicting emotions—eagerness to reconnect with his past, fear of what has been lost, and beneath it all, a deep, aching nostalgia that makes my own chest tight. I move to his side, slipping my hand into his.

"Then let's go," I say softly. "Let's see your temple."

The ancient stones of Karnak Temple glow gold in the early morning light, massive columns rising toward the cloudless sky like silent sentinels. We walk through the Great Court, our footsteps echoing in the empty space. A few guards nod respectfully as we pass, clearly informed of our visit by the Court.

Zahraxis moves as if in a trance, his fingers trailing over hieroglyphs carved into stone pillars. Through our bond, I catch flashes of memory: these same courtyards filled with people, incense smoke curling toward the sky, chants rising in harmony with the flow of the Nile. The contrast between those vibrant memories and the quiet, partially ruined reality before us makes my heart ache.

"It was so much more," he murmurs, pausing before a massive statue of a seated figure. "So much has been lost."

Finn nods, his expression somber. "Time takes its toll, even on stone."

We continue through the complex, Zahraxis occasionally stopping to translate inscriptions or explain the purpose of various chambers. His knowledge is intimate, personal; these weren't just historical sites to him, but places he lived and served. When we reach the inner sanctuary, he falls silent, staring at the sacred space now open to the sky where a roof once gave shelter.

"This was my throne room," he says finally, gesturing to a spot near a fallen column. "I ruled this region as king, serving Isis. During the high ceremonies, I would commune with the gods here." His voice drops lower. "We would bring offerings at dawn, just as the sun touched the inner chamber. The light would strike the gold... it was blinding.

I activate my dragon sight again, curious what energies might remain. Golden threads still pulse through the stone, concentrated most heavily in this inner sanctuary. "The magic is still here," I tell him. "Faded, but present."

A small smile touches his lips. "Of course. Some things even time cannot erase."

As we exit the inner sanctuary, a small group of early tourists enters the main courtyard, led by a guide speaking rapid-fire English. They point cameras at the towering columns, exclaiming over the scale of the architecture. One breaks away from the group, approaching a carved relief that Zahraxis had just been examining.

"Please do not touch the carvings," the guide calls out, hurrying over.

Zahraxis stiffens beside me, his aura flaring with indignation. I feel his struggle to contain his reaction—these are sacred spaces to him, not tourist attractions. Finn moves closer, his steady presence a counterbalance to Zahraxis' rising tension.

"Different world, brother," he murmurs. "Different time."

Zahraxis takes a deep breath, visibly mastering himself. "Yes. It is not as it was." His voice carries a resignation that breaks my heart. "Nothing is."

We make our way back through the complex as more tourists begin to arrive, the sacred silence giving way to the chatter and camera clicks of the modern world. By the time we exit the main gate, the sun has climbed higher, its heat intensifying with every passing minute.

"We should return to the sanctuary," Finn suggests, eyeing Zahraxis with concern. Through our bond, I feel the ancient dragon's emotional exhaustion, the weight of seeing his past transformed into something unrecognizable. The weariness is affecting me and Finn as well as we find our driver waiting near the entrance.

The trip back is quiet, each of us lost in thought during the brief car ride across the short bridge to the island. When we reach the sanctuary, Amara meets us with cool drinks and the news that a light meal has been prepared. We eat in the courtyard, the fountain's gentle splashing a soothing backdrop. Zahraxis barely touches his food, his gaze distant.

"Was it what you expected?" I ask finally, unable to bear the silence.

He considers this, setting down his wineglass. "I expected nothing," he says. "Three thousand years... I knew it would be changed. But seeing it..." He shakes his head. "It is like visiting your own tomb, only to find tourists taking photographs of your sarcophagus."

Finn snorts. "Poetic."

"But accurate," Zahraxis insists. "What was sacred is now... entertainment."

"Not entirely," I counter. "The magic is still there. I saw it. And people still come to connect with something greater than themselves, even if they don't understand exactly what that is."

Zahraxis studies me, his golden eyes thoughtful. "Perhaps. But they climb over altars where gods once walked."

"Gods retire," Finn reminds him. "And the world moves on. But some things remain." He gestures to the sanctuary around us. "The Court remembers. The dragons remember."

"And now I remember too," I add softly. "Through you. Those memories aren't lost as long as someone carries them."

Something shifts in Zahraxis' expression—a softening, an acceptance. He reaches for my hand, his touch warm against my skin. "Yes," he agrees. "Not lost. Changed, but not lost. And we can build something new together."

As the day's heat reaches its peak, we retreat to our chambers. The climate control keeps the rooms pleasantly cool despite the scorching sun outside. Zahraxis moves to the windows overlooking Karnak, his silhouette framed against the ancient skyline.

"Rest," Finn suggests, pressing his palm against the small of my back. "We have time before we need to get back."

The word "rest" hangs in the air between us, its meaning transforming with the heat in his eyes. Zahraxis turns from the window, his golden gaze falling on us with an intensity that makes my skin tingle. Their energy shifts—the emotional weight of the day crystallizing into something more primal, more urgent.

"Yes," Zahraxis says, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through me. "We should... rest."

He crosses the room in three long strides, reaching for me with hands that tremble slightly—not with weakness, but with barely contained need. When he brushes his fingers against my cheek, desire surges between us, amplified by the sacred energy of this place—his place.