Dragonfire: Freedom in Flames (Secrets of the Makai Book 3) (27 page)

“They’re expecting us,” Donovan said. “I’d like you to eat a bit more, get cleaned up, and meet us up top.”

Tristan swallowed the lump in his throat. “The falcon should come with us.”

“If you can catch him. He’s quick and alert, and I didn’t wish to cause him any more stress or harm.”

A wire cage appeared on the table. The bird eyed them all warily.

“You should wear a sleeve,” suggested Landon.

Before he could picture what sort of sleeve would work best, a stiff leather snapped into place around his forearm. He held it out and stared up at the bird. What if he wasn’t any sort of alpha in the real world?

I know you probably don’t want to, but I need you to come with us. Please trust me—you won’t be harmed.

The bird dropped into a glide and landed on Tristan’s outstretched arm.

“There, that wasn’t so bad.”

Its golden eyes were wide with panic, definitely lacking Jacques’ intelligence. Landon opened the cage and Tristan slipped the bird in. It beat its wings against the bars and tried to sidestep up Tristan’s arm to get out.

“It will be okay. We’ll free you if it’s safe.”

Victor produced a thick, black blanket and draped it over the frame of the cage. The bird lost traction on the leather cuff and calmed when it found the sturdy perch. Tristan clasped the door shut.

“If someone else could carry him, I’d appreciate it.”

“I will,” said Victor. The others left the marble room in a quiet single-file line. “How did you do that?”

“I just asked.” He sat back down in his chair and poked at a slab of steak. There was no point in keeping the bird captive, he’d have to release it and say goodbye. Again.

A large porcelain bowl, filled to the brim with slightly steaming water, appeared on the table, along with several thick towels. “I’ll clean your wings if you want,” offered Alvi, “and then we need to find something suitable for you to wear.”

FOREST OF DARKNESS

LANDON AND VICTOR
opened the wide double doors to the outside. Tristan kept his eyes on the ground, expecting the blinding sunlight, but it was dark—too dark to see past the light of a lantern held by one of the guards.

Donovan stood at the base of the stairs and nodded approvingly at Alvi’s choice of clothing—a soft tan-colored fabric with long, loose sleeves and buttons down the front. He wasn’t sure how it crossed between his wings in the back, but the long strips of fabric wrapped around to his waist and tied at the side. At least the shirt and the pants were loose and comfortable, and Alvi assured him the fabric would rip easily if he shifted. He kept the staff with him, mostly so he could cling to something.

“It’s sunny in Russia, at the Forest of Darkness, but well past the heat of the day. Everything is ready.”

Tristan nodded solemnly, careful to keep his wings from hitting the ground as he descended the stairs. All the doubts and questions and miscellaneous garbage in his mind slipped away. Now, it was a simple matter of following the plan: release the dragon, break the contract. He stopped beside Donovan, and several ghosts and guards stepped in to surround them. “Where’s the falcon?”

“Alpheus and Eleonora have him. We’re gathering on the border of the area, then we’ll all walk in together.”

“I was thinking…maybe we should release him when the contract is broken. Just in case he’s in there somewhere.”

“It might be the most humane thing to do,” offered Donovan. “I’m sure the bird wouldn’t want to be kept as a pet either way.”

“Right,” Tristan added, a bit more sure of the idea. “You don’t think we’re giving up on him, by setting him free?”

“The bird doesn’t need assistance anymore,” said Donovan. “And if Jacques is in there, he’ll most likely be freed when the contract is broken.”

“Most likely?”

“It’s possible he’s already moved on.”

Tristan sighed. Maybe that was the sacrifice—using himself as bait to prove Tristan’s worth. “All right.”

“Ready?”

There was nothing left to do. He loosened his grip on the staff and closed his eyes with a slight nod. When he opened them again, they were all standing at the edge of a dense grove, on a rarely used animal trail. He spotted the covered cage with Alpheus and Eleonora, and stepped into line with the people who’d begun walking into the grove.

The trees grew denser as they walked farther in, and the sheer number of ghosts packed between the trunks sucked the breath from his lungs. Was this everyone? Had they all come to witness the breaking of the contract? They stopped their silent conversations as the group of living people passed by, then crowded in to follow. Tristan kept his eyes fixed on the ground, unable to feel the same excitement.

The trail became a tangle of shiny, chocolate-brown roots. Dark shards resembling clumps of grass stood erect like bouquets of needles, while shrubs looked like delicate sculptures carved from opaque glass. The majority of the trees were still standing, though most of the limbs and leaves had fallen and shattered on the ground. A thick blanket of living ivy crept over the top.

The overall effect was beautiful in a creepy way, but no light penetrated the thick canopy, and soon they needed lanterns to light the way.

The people in front stopped walking and faced the center of the petrified clearing. Tristan and everyone behind him filed in around the perimeter. The living people seemed to prefer one side, and the ghosts the other. Landon put a hand on his shoulder, reminding him to breathe.

Hundreds of misty apparitions were watching them. Him probably. Waiting for Whiromanie to show himself. How long had the dragon been trapped in this dark, empty place?

The ground began to vibrate and the leaves in the trees tinkled like glass wind chimes. “I remember you,” whispered a voice. Dark shadows from everywhere gathered into the shape of a massive dragon. “You are a pathetic specimen. It is a shame the great dragons have deteriorated so.”

Tristan resisted flinching when inky vapors snaked around him and forced his chin to rise. He’d been instructed to be strong and dominant, but it wasn’t working very well. He looked up at the creature’s face. “I can only represent myself.”

The dragon had to tilt his head to the side to see Tristan at all, with his eyes set so far back on his skull. It didn’t make him any less scary, but it was certainly a weakness.

“Are you so fragile and ill prepared, you cannot come alone to talk privately? Since when should a dragon require an entire militia?”

The ghosts were getting agitated.

“You’re right.” Tristan stepped forward. “I am not as prepared as I’d like to be, but I am here and I will do my best.”
Despite what you’ve done,
he added to himself. Who knew how many dragons Whiromanie had killed indirectly. The thought shot a burst of anger to his gut and he quickly tamped it down, determined not to play into the pecking-order games.

“And you’ve glamorized yourself with wings since I saw you last. Do you mock us?”

“They appeared one day and I discovered the joy of flying. To remove them now would be like severing a limb.”

“Hmmm. I suppose I had to see and hear it for myself before believing such a thing. I was told you would have questions for me.”

Tristan dropped his gaze. This would be his last chance to get information, but everyone had rallied quite well for him, and what he needed most at this point was experience. The knowledge filled him with calmness. “We’ve been able to figure things out well enough, so I think I’ll be fine.”

“Ha!” Smoke puffed from the dragon’s flaring nostrils. “I’ve been instructed to answer all of your questions, in trade for this release.”

“If I break this contract before I release you, will you be free to go with the rest, or will you be bound to the earth forever?”

“What?” The dragon’s head jerked back. “I—no one knows the answer to that until it happens.”

“Well- everything I was going to ask just isn’t an issue anymore. There are more important things.”

“This is an outrage!”

“Why? All the dragons you killed and the council have been more than helpful, and I have no need to hear how great and powerful you are, and how insignificant I am.” Tristan seethed. He’d thought he’d worked out all his anger, but it felt good to scold the dragon responsible. And what could they do, fire him? “I thought being I could actually hear you, you would be a good source of information. But the only question I have is, why would they want me to save you?” Tristan raised his voice to a shout. “Do you still? This guy orchestrated the deaths of…how many? None of us would be in this position if he hadn’t—”

“Enough, Tristan!” hissed Donovan.

Oskar, the ghost who had done most of the work with the world map, stepped forward, catching Tristan’s attention. Andros stood behind him with this hands tucked into the long sleeves of his robe.

“How can you forgive him for creating a clan of dragon slayers? He betrayed everyone! This makes no sense to me. And no one said I have to break the contract with this diamond. There are plenty of other choices we could have started with.”

Pink dashed out from Landon’s hair and did a loop to stop herself at Tristan’s ear. “You wanted to ask dragon questions,” she whispered, then dashed back to safety.

“Like how big will I get? What do I eat? How much weight can I carry? I’ll figure it out on my own.”

“Those are childish questions,” replied the dragon. “She’s dying, you know.”

“Who?”

“Your little pixie-play-toy.”

“She’s not a toy—” His throat constricted at the thought of losing such a happy, bubbly being.

“They only live for a few months, six at most.”

“You’re lying.”

“Why would I lie about such a thing?”

Tristan clenched his teeth and glared.

“Anyway, about those questions.”

“All right,” Tristan glanced back at Landon, who was already consoling Pink. He’d have to deal with it later. “Why is it that we can hear you and no one else?”

“I’ve been speaking to humans for centuries, and perhaps because I’m physically tethered to this realm. But I was thinking along the lines of…‘How does a dragon warm a human without burning the body to a crisp? Will a dragon’s children be hatched or born? Will abstract power drive a dragon insane? Can a dragon transport himself, or grasp the concept of magical manipulation? How does one protect the armpits in flight? How does one maintain the correct ratio of blood when shifting back to human? How long is the transition between shifting from a dragon brain to a human brain? How does the designated alpha release the races?’”

Tristan gulped. Now was not the time to start doubting himself. “Molajah told me fire will release the races.”

“But what kind?” The dragon’s dark body dissolved into a cascade of shadows and reassembled a few feet back. “Some fire is so hot, nothing will withstand it. And some flames will do nothing more than light a dark room. Do you even know how to call upon this fire?”

Tristan nodded, but kept his mouth shut.

“Well at least there’s that,” said the dragon, pacing back and forth. “So what will it be? Do you want answers or not?”

Tristan turned to Oskar. “Are you sure you want him freed? I really am fine with the whole trial and error thing.”

The ghost flung bits of mist in the air and formed symbols for Donovan. Tristan glanced over his shoulder with a questioning look. “Well?”

“They aren’t visible to me here. Samara was the one who made that possible.”

Tristan glared at the shadow of a dragon, who bowed dramatically. “Whiromanie, that’s me, has served for his crimes against dragons.”

Tristan narrowed his eyes and looked back to the ghost giving the message, then Andros. “Is that about right?”

They both nodded.

Tristan battled within himself. It wasn’t like the dragon had been begging for forgiveness for the last two hundred years—he’d sent the slayers after him less than a few months ago.

“Let it go, Tristan,” said Donovan. “It’s not your decision to make.”

He should break the contract and let the dragon stay tethered to the ground to suffer the consequences. “You organized a cult for the sole purpose of killing every last dragon. For centuries! Just so you could be freed. So forgive me for having a hard time rewarding you for your patience.”

The dragon said nothing.

Tristan leaned his forehead against the staff. His shoulder ached. Why was he stalling? The dragons were becoming less trustworthy, especially after what happened with the falcon, and deep in his heart, the thought sickened him.

“Is that shame?” asked the dragon, as if he’d just won a secret argument.

“Yes.” Tristan straightened himself and let his wings lift a touch. “I will keep my word and free you, but I am ashamed to consider myself a dragon. You are selfish, manipulative, cruel, and I’ll be glad to see you gone.”

The dragon stilled with a frozen scowl on his face, as did the crowd of ghosts.

“Aren’t you Mr. High and Mighty,” the dragon finally said, though the words carried no weight or power.

“Be grateful I’m here at all. Where’s your body? I’d like to get this over with as soon as possible.”

“No questions? I could be off to my homeland first chance I get.”

“I don’t respect you and couldn’t care less what you do once you’re free. I’ll find my answers somewhere else, or not.”

“But once the contract is broken, you will have no one to consult with.”

“I will consult with the humans who have earned my trust, so let’s get on with it.”

“I’m insulted.”

“I’m tired.” Tristan turned to Donovan and Landon. “Maybe we should come back another time.”

“Wait! Think of how disappointed everyone will be if you leave—we’ve been waiting for this.”

Tristan faced the dragon. “Seriously—who cares? I’m pretty sure I disappoint everyone every day anyway.”

“Release me!”

“You have no power over what I do!”

“Very mature. Is that what you’re going to tell the races when they ask what rules they should live by?”

“They’re on their own.”

“Oh, that’s brilliant!”

“What do you want me to do? Keep them locked up forever, like you?”

The dragon shuddered before settling to his belly. “My body is straight below me. Just follow the thread.”

The dragon inched backward, revealing a thin rope of mist that disappeared into the ground. Tristan followed it mentally until a shift in the molecular structure of the ground altered. He knelt down and loosened his neck and shoulders with a deep breath. Power pulsed about ten feet down, and the moment he realized it, it surged through him. He opened his eyes to warn everyone, but the entire area was filled with a dense, foggy mist.

He refocused on the crystallized body and tried to find any hint of human DNA buried in the pattern.
Were you a dragon or human when you touched it?

Several long minutes passed before the dragon replied.
Human.

Giving up on restoring the body, he focused on concealing the diamond in a box similar to what held the emerald, and transferred it to the ground beside him. It did help to lessen the chaos, giving him a clearer focus on the curse itself.