Dragonfire: Freedom in Flames (Secrets of the Makai Book 3) (5 page)

Yes?

Thanks for talking to me. It’s been nice.

Same here.
Tristan looked at all the plants she’d left behind, their leaves a sickly-yellow with crisp edges. They really did need rain. Everything was wilted and desolate, and heat waves radiated from the sawed off trunks and dusty mountainside. The smoke was getting thicker.

Obviously he couldn’t turn on a sprinkler, but why not put a little moisture in the air? And if he was going to go that far, how hard could it be to make it rain?

Tristan let himself drift upward and searched for the nearest clouds, finding none. He found the nearest lake for a greater evaporation supply, changed the airflow, experimented with air temperature, and smiled as a fluffy cloud took shape.

With luck, constricting the air currents to this mountain range, the entire area would be thoroughly quenched with rain in no time.

HIGHEST PRIORITIES

HEAVY FOOTSTEPS CLATTERED
down the circular stairway above Tristan. He sat slumped against the wall, waiting for enough energy to get going again.

“You should have called for help,” Landon said. “It wouldn’t have been a problem.”

Tristan tried to reply with a “I didn’t need any,” but his lips wouldn’t move. Neither would his freezing feet. How long had he been sitting here?

“I knew this was a bad idea.” Landon stepped to the side as Victor passed. He descended the corner and came back a few moments later with the staff.

Before Tristan could reach for it, someone was lifting him off the uneven surface. He shut his eyes and held back the queasy rolls of nausea.

The bottom of the staircase was farther than he’d imagined. He cursed himself for not making it even half way. How many steps were there in all?

The door whooshed open and Samara’s artificial daylight burned his eyes, even through his eyelids.

“Dusk,” ordered Donovan. The room immediately complied.

“I can walk.”

“We’ll discuss it in the morning.”

Tristan gazed through golden leaves to the sky, a faded shade of purple. Tall white birch trees with delicate, intertwining branches surrounded them. Victor and Landon walked side by side toward the log cabin. Their footsteps crunched through the autumn leaves, creating a rhythmic cadence that almost lulled him into sleep.

“Victor?”

Victor stopped, followed by Landon. “Yeah, bro?”

“Can you make me some coffee?”

Victor smiled, then shook his head. “I don’t think so. Maybe in the morning?”

“Can’t wait that long. I have so much to do.”

“Like what? You don’t have—”

“Sure we do,” interrupted Landon. A notebook and pencil appeared in his hands. “We can start by making a list.”

Tristan nodded, grateful when Donovan set him on his feet at the base of the stairs. Victor handed him the staff and he wondered again at how he could possibly be so weak, barely able to lift each foot up two steps. This was not the life he’d expect for an immortal.

He finally got through the cabin door and leaned against the wall.

“What is so important?” Donovan asked, refusing to sit with Landon at the table. Victor pulled food from the refrigerator and started preparing something as Landon opened the notebook.

“I need the map I was working on, pencils and a sharpener, and the best real-life map you can find.”

“Easy enough.” Landon jotted down the information. “Is that it?”

“I need to see Dorian. And Lazaro.”

Donovan cocked an eyebrow. “Why Lazaro?”

“I have to see about his brother to hold up my end of the deal. I also want to know how he knew where to look for that stone on the beach, and where he thinks it is on the drawing. If there’s a connection, and the drawing and a real map can be overlapped, maybe it’ll help us find other places.”

“You are not to bring back his brother,” said Donovan. He clasped his hands behind his back and began pacing the cabin.

“I owe him.”

“You don’t exactly owe him. Stephan is more ruthless than I, and would prefer killing you to asking your name. It’s better for all if he remains a statue.”

“Is that it?” Landon asked, saving Tristan from having to respond.

“I need as much information on the faerie races as possible. Names, descriptions, what country they’re from, languages, living requirements, magical abilities….”

“You understand most of what’s out there are songs and bedtime stories, right? There’s no proof of anything.”

“I know. But every detail could be helpful if I plan to—”

“Plan to what?”

“Um…” He hadn’t meant to spill all his plans, but he was so tired. “I want to find all the stones, so I at least know where they are. And if we knew what we were dealing with in advance....”

“I don’t believe you.”

“The only reason we know the emerald contains a Valkyrie is because Gwenna told us. But what do the rest contain? How many races are there?” Tristan rubbed his temples, getting more frazzled by the second.

“Are you planning to set them free?” Victor asked, bringing a plate of food to the table.

“No. Maybe.” He didn’t have an exact plan, just an idea. “I’ll have to eventually, right? If I survive that long.”

“Why?”

“Why not? How would you like being locked up for who knows how many centuries...?”

“This isn’t about you, Tristan,” said Donovan. “Think of what would happen if all the mythical creatures suddenly came to life. They’d be slaughtered.”

“No they wouldn’t. People would love it if there were—”

“What do you think people would do if they saw you as a dragon? They’d shoot first and dissect you later, no matter how cute and fluffy you are in public. Why do you think we continue hiding? It’s human nature to dominate.”

Tristan kept his mouth shut, unable to respond with anything wise.

“If they’re safe where they are, leave them be,” said Donovan. “That’s my advice.”

Tristan stepped out of the way so Donovan could leave. “Wait. I’d also like to see the slayers’ museum again, and anything you kept.”

“I kept all of it. It’s in a protective environment and I do not care to move it again. Anything else?”

Tristan shook his head, though he wasn’t sure if the items from the museum were available for him or not. “The murals?”

“I said I kept everything and I meant it. Now eat something and go to bed.”

Tristan grunted in response and waited until Donovan was out the door and down the stairs before he made his way to the table. He sat heavily in the nearest chair and stared at the sandwiches Victor prepared. Voices emanated from between the slices of bread; he turned away from the plate and groaned.

“What, you don’t like turkey anymore?” asked Victor. He sat at the table and stuffed a quarter of the sandwich in his mouth.

Tristan grimaced. “It’s not that.”

“Then what is it? You haven’t eaten in weeks and clearly you need food.”

“I can’t eat it.”

“Of course you can! You don’t think we’d feed you something bad, do you? And before you answer, we’re being extremely cautious.” Victor offered the sandwich he’d already taken a bite from.

“It’s not that either.”

“There is no excuse for you to not eat!” Victor’s chair screeched along the floor as he scooted out and stood. “Is it the meat?”

“Forget the food, okay? If I eat it, I’ll just throw it up and I don’t have the strength.”

“This isn’t the time to have some eating disorder, Tristan. There is nothing wrong with this food!”

“Victor,” Landon said, attempting to put an end to the shouting match. “It’s okay. Leave it.”

“No! I’m tired of tiptoeing around, waiting for him to be healthy all of a sudden.” Victor faced Tristan again. “We’re doing our best to care for you, and you’re just withering away on purpose! What’s it going to take for you to start eating?”

“If you want me to go, I will.”

“That’s not what we want and you know it. So stop avoiding the question!”

“I’m motivated now. I know what I need to do.”

“Before or after you starve to death? Is that how you plan to contact the council? As a ghost?”

“No. As far as I’m concerned, the council is out. There’re two more things for the list,” Tristan said, ignoring Victor.

“I’m not leaving until you—” Victor stopped arguing and left the table. “Fine. Make your list. I’ll wait.”

Landon held the pencil, keeping his silence.

“Where’s Pink?” Tristan asked, frantic by the sudden realization that the little ball of energy wasn’t darting around.

“She’s with Alvi,” Victor said. “They’re working on something.”

“Oh.” Tristan rubbed the back of his neck, reminding himself to stop thinking everyone was in danger. “Good. What are they working on?”

Victor glanced at Landon, who only shrugged. “I’m going to ask Alvi to marry me, only I’m terrible at setting the scene for that sorta thing. So I told her I had a free weekend coming up, and she should plan a romantic getaway somewhere, and of course she jumped at the chance. Now she and Pink are working on some big secret....”

“Married?” The concept was almost unconceivable. “Great.” The more Tristan processed the idea, the more he actually liked it.

“It’s not going to be anything major....”

“Why not?” Tristan smiled at Victor, sincerely happy. “This really is great! I don’t know her very well, but I’m relieved you have something happy going on in all this.”

Victor looked at Landon again, probably to confirm whether Tristan was genuinely happy about hearing the news or not. “Thanks. I’m glad you aren’t bothered.”

“Of course not. Why would I be?” Tristan glanced at Landon, who seemed intent on studying the list on the paper. “You have every right to be happy and start a family. Congratulations. Really. When will this happen?”

“I’ll let Alvi set the date. I mean, obviously there are some higher priorities on the schedule right now, but I thought I’d at least get the engagement started. It’ll make her happy.”

Tristan frowned, keeping an eye on Landon.

On the one hand, he wanted Victor and Landon to have a happy, carefree life. They both deserved it, and why should they be stuck on dragon-watch for the rest of their days? On the other hand, they were partners. It was hard to picture one without the other.

“Oh, come on!” Victor sat back down at the table. “It’s not like I’m going anywhere, and Alvi has been in the Makai longer than I have.”

“It’ll be fine,” Landon said. “I’m sure nothing will change.”

“Exactly. Everything will stay the same.”

An uncomfortable silence suffocated the room. “No,” Tristan finally said. “It can’t stay the same. You can’t risk your life every day if you have a wife and kids to take care of. You can’t be around me. It’s too risky.”

“We all know the risks, Tristan. And believe it or not, we
want
to be here. The entire direction of the Makai is shifting, and I like where it’s going. Alvi does too.”

Tristan shook his head, horrified by the thought. “What do you mean, shifting?”

“You’ll have a team, Tristan. Not just me and Landon and Donovan, though Donovan can out power all of us.”

Tristan covered his face. For a second, he thought Victor was implying he’d have a team of supporters. But maybe what he meant was, he’d have a team in place to take him out if he lost control. “Bad idea. I don’t want a team. It’s hard enough knowing you guys are risking your lives. I don’t want anyone else involved.”

“It’s too late, Tristan.”

“No, it’s not! I won’t even know these people. At least with you guys, I should
hope
to recognize you as a friend—”

“We’ll pass along your concerns,” Landon said. “See the Slayer Museum, Stop Being a Finicky eater.... What else did you want to add to the list?”

Tristan sighed. “Any research you find, I want it in writing. And I’d like it on paper, not on some digital thing.”

“Why can’t we just tell you?”

“I don’t want to forget, plus—” Tristan turned away from the table. “I might not always have you around.”

“So, you’ll take the information and run?” Landon shook his head, but added it to the list.

“I won’t take the information and run.”

“Next?”

“You aren’t going to like this one, but I need to find the Forest of Darkness.”

Victor barked a hearty laugh. “Like Donovan would ever allow that. Why would you want to go there?”

“Because I
need
to know stuff. He’s the only actual dragon I can think of who can tell me anything.”

“Why would he help you, and why would you believe anything he says? You have nothing to negotiate with and I’m sure he still thinks killing you could free him.”

“Maybe I can free him. I can experiment on him or Lazaro’s brother…take your pick. But at least the dragon is already dead.”

“You’re crazy,” Victor said. “And I mean it in the nicest way.”

“What information do you need that would make it worth the risk?” Landon asked.

“I feel like I know absolutely nothing about what to expect. Plus, it’s what Pink said about the whole hibernation thing. I need to know if I have any control over how long it takes. What if I fall asleep right now, and I don’t wake up for another fifty years? You could all be dead, except Donovan, and who knows what he’ll be doing fifty years from now. So I need to know how much time I have to get this stuff done.”

Victor and Landon looked too stunned to speak.

“Maybe I won’t hibernate unless I’m a dragon, and then I can avoid it altogether by never being a dragon, right? I mean…a person wouldn’t sleep for fifty years.”

“You can’t assume fifty—”

“Let’s look at bears. It’s a seasonal thing based on temperature and light, right? If we knew what the conditions are for me, Samara could help prevent it. Right? Samara?”

“Sleep is a required part of a life cycle,” said the disembodied voice. “The nature of something cannot be altered.”

Something. Was he no longer a someone? “Well, we know I won’t survive out there, and I won’t survive in here either if I shift and everyone grows old and dies. So either way, I have to work through this list as quickly as possible.”