Dragonfire: Freedom in Flames (Secrets of the Makai Book 3) (9 page)

By making me take the longest route possible? Some help,
Tristan grumbled.

If you would follow them, they’ll lead you through the most stable ground, around any rocks, roots, or soft spots you might not see. They might even cushion your fall if you drop dead.

I can see the ground just fine, and thanks for the vote of confidence.
Tristan rested his head against the stick.
Before you told me not to step on anything, now you’re saying it’s fine?

You were rude and obnoxious back then, and we were talking about transplants. These sprouts have a well-established root system. You can’t hurt them by walking on them.

Tristan straightened slightly, and began walking on the freshly sprouted path toward the dock.
Does that mean you don’t think I’m rude and obnoxious now?

You have your moments, but I’m glad to see you have some appreciation for the plants now. Maybe there’s hope for you after all?

Whatever.
Tristan stopped at the wooden dock, turned around, and whispered something to the ground. Then he looked directly at her, making her breath catch in her throat.
Thanks, Dorian. I really do appreciate your help. Especially if you can help Pink.

She’d forgotten about this Pink person, and glanced at Landon, who was lounging in Tristan’s chair with his hands clasped behind his head. Victor stood suspiciously close to him. Before she could ask what they were up to, she noticed a tiny girl, with beautiful butterfly wings and silvery blue hair, standing with perfect stillness.

Dorian stared at the figurine; Victor’s position blocked Eric’s view.

The plants behind her were quiet, waiting like she was, unsure if the girl was alive or some brilliantly crafted figurine.

“A faerie?” she finally whispered, unable to wait any longer. The plants began whispering in excited tones, spreading the word instantly.

“I’m a Pixie.” The girl’s wings fluttered suddenly and her feet lifted from Landon’s shoulder.

Dorian gasped and her eyes went wide. “For real?”

Landon nodded. “Obviously, we need to keep her a secret.”

“Tristan says you can be trusted,” added Pink.

“Of course,” Dorian breathed. “Of course I can keep it secret.” But the plants had already spread the word. Everyone on the island would know in the next five minutes.

“Good. Because Tristan is never wrong when it comes to who can be trusted and who cannot.”

Dorian shut her mouth. How did Tristan rank so high? Though she felt a thrill that he actually found her trustworthy after everything they’d been through. “But the plants—they’ve already told.”

“Tristan mentioned no warning about the plants finding out, so I think we are safe in that regard.” She glanced up at Landon. “Did I say that correctly?”

“Yes.” Landon beamed. “You said it just fine.”

Dorian glanced at the dock leading to the seaplane. Tristan must have already made it inside. “Why Tristan?”

“Tristan is my—”

“Dragon,” Landon finished. “Tristan found Pink and rescued her. Now she’s rather attached.”

“I see.” She glanced again at Eric. They had to get away. “Uncle Eric?”

He turned to face her with a questioning look.

“We’re going to go gather some food. Mushrooms on the ridge. We won’t be long.”

“Sorry, Dorian. We can’t confirm that’s him on the plane. So I think you better just stay where you are. There’s plenty of food right there, and you can get whatever you want from the house.”

Dorian drummed her fingers and scowled. “Can Landon and Victor come in the house to carry stuff?”

“Two minutes, Dorian. No more.”

Dorian jumped to her feet and grinned. “Come on. We’ll be quick.” She nearly ran to the house and held the door open for Landon and Victor. The pixie took off in flight, leaving a trail of glowing sparkles as she explored the darkened cabin. “Wow. I wish Gram was here to see this. I need to tell Ardon. He probably already knows. Can I keep her for a while? Is that okay? What exactly do you need from me? Here.” She started shoveling food into canvas bags. “Most of this was picked today—it’s still fresh. And here’s some bread. Soup. Not sure if he’ll like it...don’t worry about returning containers.”

“Pink needs to find a certain flower,” said Landon. “We’re hoping you’ll recognize it by her description, and that maybe you’ll know where we can find it.”

“Sounds easy enough.” She handed three bags to Victor. They both looked so serious. “About Tristan. I get why he’s not eating, and hopefully that’ll change, but poison either spreads to kill, or dies out on its own. Why isn’t he healing, and how is he surviving with no food for so long? I’m confused.”

“We don’t know if it’s the poison making him ill or the power he took on, but clearly his shoulder isn’t healing. We’re still hoping you find a cure for him.”

“I need more tissue samples to work with, but honestly, I’m at a loss. The samples I get from Madam Galina disintegrate within hours. I don’t understand how he’s surviving something so aggressive.”

Landon turned away, as did Victor.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“When he touched the emerald, it made him, sort of, immortal.”

Immortal? It couldn’t be possible. “Sort of?”

“That’s how he survived the dragon slayers,” added Victor. “He was healing himself as they went. But now, the poison can’t override the immortality, and the immortality can’t override the poison.”

“So if you could keep trying for that cure, we’d be grateful.”

“I will.” She’d be grateful, too, if she could help him in some way. Why didn’t he tell her? “I asked Ardon about it, but maybe Tristan should go see him. He’s the oldest tree on the island, and he remembers when dragons used to come here. Tristan said he wanted information.”

Pink returned to the kitchen, bringing with her a delightful, childlike glee that made Dorian smile with genuine awe. “I’ll take Pink to meet him as soon as possible, assuming I can keep her for a bit?”

“Are you okay with staying?” Landon asked, holding his hand for the pixie to land.

“You’ll come back for me?”

“Of course. I’ll give you a few hours, but stay hidden from all the people. Don’t fly unless Dorian says it’s clear. Got it?”

“I do!” Pink blew Landon a kiss and leaped to Dorian’s shoulder.

“Thank you for telling me,” Dorian said. “I’ll do what I can, and I’ll keep Pink safe while she’s here.”

“You might want to let Tristan tell you about the immortality himself.”

“I’ll do that.” Though if he hadn’t told her by now, he probably didn’t intend to.

LESSON LEARNED

THE RHYTHMIC CADENCE
of footsteps on the wooden decking drew Tristan’s awareness outward: Landon and Victor were walking toward the plane. They both carried a bag in each hand and Tristan rushed from the cushioned bench to let them in.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Tristan took the nearest bag and dumped the contents onto the bench, stuffing a dinner roll into his mouth as he closed his eyes and thanked everything that had gone into such an amazing creation for existing in the first place. “Oh, yum,” he said with his mouth full. “Where’s Pink?”

Victor and Landon both laughed and dumped the rest of the contents on the bench in front of Tristan. “Looks like a Halloween candy fest!” said Victor.

“Pink will stay for a while,” added Landon, taking his seat across the walkway. “I’ll sneak back later tonight to see if she’s ready to come home. Dorian is thrilled.”

Tristan swallowed an over-sized bite and picked up a pear, stuffing a manageable chunk into his mouth before speaking again. “Oliver doesn’t know, does he?”

“No, they’re not even back yet. Dorian plans to take Pink to a tree named Ardon, who apparently remembers when the dragons came to the island, so you might want to talk to him next time you’re here.”

Tristan nodded, accepting an open pocketknife from Victor to cut a chunk of zucchini or cucumber—he wasn’t sure which.

“You know,” Victor said, “there really is no hurry. The food isn’t going anywhere.”

“I know, but I’m starving and this is
so
good.” He mentally apologized for making the simple nature of things so complicated and took another bite. “I don’t think you guys understand what a relief this is.”

They let him eat in silence until he couldn’t swallow another bite.

“I shouldn’t have eaten so much,” Tristan groaned.

“Considering your stomach was probably the size of an apple, I’d say so.”

The door swung open and Donovan boarded the plane. His jacket was gone and his white dress-shirt was splattered with mud. His shiny shoes and slacks were also filthy. He looked Tristan up and down and went to the back of the plane, where he pulled a leather bag from a shelf. “Looks like our mission here was successful enough.”

“Yep,” Victor said. “He’s willingly stuffed. What about yours?”

Tristan’s mood plummeted. Landon, ever the empath, gave him a sympathetic look of understanding.

“We found eleven survivors.” Donovan exchanged his shirt for a clean one and headed for the cockpit. “Buckle up.”

“Is there a death toll?” Tristan asked.

“I have confidence that we found everyone with a pulse.”

Tristan fought the undulating food in the pit of his stomach, threatening to come back up. It hardly seemed fair that he could sit here and gorge himself while people were struggling to survive a disaster he created. No matter what the reason was behind the rain.

“Stop treating yourself that way.” Donovan gripped Tristan’s chin and forced him to look up, startling him. “You or I might save a person who kills a thousand people next week. Or we might kill a person who could have saved millions a year from now. The fact is, unless you know the future, no one knows the true ramifications of their actions. You had your reasons at the time, correct?”

Tristan nodded, though he couldn’t say the lives of plants were worth the lives of people, and in the process, he probably killed more plants than he saved. No one benefited from his little tweak of nature.

Donovan gave him another firm shake. “We make the best decisions we can and we move on. There is no changing the past, only the gaining of experience for the next decision. Understand?”

Tristan nodded.

“Altering the course of a general weather pattern is unpredictable. I wouldn’t—”

“I won’t,” Tristan said. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t even consider what might happen, or even how much water the plants needed. If I’d thought about it—”

“I told you! There is no benefit in punishing yourself for what you could not have known. If it happens again, that’s another story. Because now you know better.”

Tristan gulped another bout of shame.

“There is nothing wrong with feeling remorse or guilt, then letting it go. Consider the possibility that this is a lesson that prevents you from wiping out an entire city at a later time, just because you ‘didn’t consider what might happen.’”

The perspective struck him as true and a weight on his shoulders lifted.

Donovan straightened and returned to the cockpit. “Where’s Pink? Don’t tell me she’s afraid to fly in this rat trap.”

“No,” Landon answered. “She’s staying with Dorian for a few hours. I’ll come back for her later.”

“Very well. There’s been a change of plans. We’re keeping this plane for now and we’re heading to my house instead of Anchorage.”

“You’re taking us to your actual house?” Landon and Victor exchanged stunned expressions. “Where exactly do you live?”

“I have an island in the outskirts of Okinawa. We should be there in ten hours, longer if we run into poor flying conditions. We won’t have to refuel if we make synthetics, so we’ll fly a straight line rather than following the land masses.”

Tristan settled into his seat and did his best to stay relaxed as the engine roared to life. Everyone slipped on their earphone headsets.

“Victor can fly if I fall asleep.”

“Sure! So long as you teach me first.”

“I’m certain your mechanical intuition would be of better assistance.”

“Stop teasing me!” Tristan’s fingers dug into the seat cushion.

“What makes you think we’re teasing?” Donovan asked, twisting in his seat to face Tristan.

Tristan glared and his eyes shifted; the monster within threatening to lash out.

Donovan nodded curtly and faced forward. Victor and Landon remained silent. Tristan stared at the floor and counted backwards. The plane circled in the water, then gathered speed along the glassy surface.

Maybe it was the not-knowing that made flying so terrifying. Tristan pulled the shade away from the window to test the theory. Trees along the shoreline sped faster and he quickly put his attention back on the floor. Seeing the crash wouldn’t help him.

“Tristan,” Landon said, lacing his voice with serene peacefulness. “We’re not going to crash.”

“The lake isn’t long enough.” Tristan caught sight of the shore through the front windows as it curved inward. Just as it looked like the plane would collide, the nose lifted and they cleared the treetops.

“That wasn’t so bad,” Landon said.

Tristan’s eyes shifted back to normal as a gentle calmness filled the cabin, putting his fears to shame. “I’m sorry. I have no excuse.”

“Good job!” Victor grinned at Landon. “That was pretty good.”

Landon smiled with pride.

“What, empath in reverse?”

“So long as I can project the right emotion, it seems to work. But it’s not as easy as it sounds.”

Tristan pondered the uses of such an ability, momentarily forgetting the pull of gravity as the plane lifted higher.

“While we’re at Donovan’s we can check out the museum. What are you hoping to find?”

“It’s a good view of the island if you want to see,” said Donovan through the headset.

Victor raised the shade on his window as the plane tipped. Tristan peeked out to see Dorian’s island below, the trees and rocky shoreline, and then it vanished in a wave of distortion as they circled higher, concealed by the fang in the cave where dragons once went to take their last breaths.

The plane righted itself and headed out over the sea. Nothing but clear skies and the sun at their backs. “Why am I afraid of flying?” Tristan asked no one in particular. “I had wings, didn’t I?” He couldn’t remember actually seeing his own wings, it was more of an instinct. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“You had wings, all right,” Victor said. “And you knew how to use them.”

Landon agreed. “But you didn’t seem to have a good feel for wingspan.”

“Shut the screen, would you?”

Victor reached back and pulled the blind over the window. Tristan took another breath and picked up an apple to nibble on.

“The museum.”

“What? Right. The museum. I don’t know what I’ll find. I just wanted to see if I could learn anything.”

Landon pulled an airplane manual out of his backpack and began reading.

“I wouldn’t have put it on the list if I’d known it would be this much trouble. I figured Donovan could bring it to me, or we could just, you know, poof there.”

“It’s fine. What else would we be doing?”

“Gee, I don’t know, saving the world maybe?”

“Who says we aren’t?”

“That’s not funny.”

“Stop making such negative assumptions. We’re not here to protect the world from you, we’re here to help you do whatever you need to do.”

Tristan shut his mouth, determined not to argue. “Why didn’t you tell me Dorian was seeing Tynan?”

“We don’t tell you everything we do, and she’s not
seeing
him. He’s been to her shop a few times for materials and information, and it doesn’t affect you at all.”

The plane dropped for a second, putting a halt to the conversation. Tristan shut his eyes and gripped the seat.

“Come on, Tristan,” Victor said. “What’s the worst thing that could happen? You’re immortal. You’re not going to die even if we do crash.”

“Right. You would all die and I’d be stuck in a state of drowning for the rest of eternity.”

“No. You’d transport yourself and be stuck facing the council in the process.”

“Great, and how do I defend myself there?”

“No idea. But I’m sure you’ll figure something out, right? Just try to relax while you can. It’s not often we have hours of sitting around with nothing pressing to do, so take advantage!” Victor produced an acoustic guitar and started tuning it.

“You don’t seem like you need practice.” Tristan settled back in his seat and did his best to relax.

“You like it, don’t you?”

“Sure. But you don’t have to play it every time I get anxious.”

“It’s not like that at all. If it was, we could just put a recorded file on repeat and accomplish the same thing, right?”

Tristan nodded.

“Alvi and I are producing our fourth album and I need a few more songs to make it complete. So I’m experimenting with some ideas. If it bothers you, I can try working it out in my head.”

“No.” Tristan tried to smile, even if they really were trying to keep him calm. “I just don’t want to be more work for everyone. I like it. It’s a good distraction.”

“Good. Because this album is funding her degree in chemistry. She wants to be an explosives expert.”

“Really?”

“That and cosmetology.”

Tristan laughed. “So, she wants to make explosive makeup?”

Victor nodded, silencing Tristan.

“I was joking.”

“Alvi’s not.” Victor winked playfully and went back to tuning his guitar. “She makes a lot of our disguises and prefers fighting at a safe distance. People tend to be so focused on the supernatural, they forget to keep an eye out for the most basic threats.”

Tristan averted his gaze. He’d probably fall into the same category. “Have you asked her to marry you yet? What’d she say?”

Victor’s cheery demeanor faded. Landon turned a page in his book, pretending to read. “No, I haven’t asked her yet. I will, though. We just haven’t had a chance to get away lately. Don’t tell me you’re still against it.”

“I’m not against it,” Landon said. “I just think you should wait.”

Victor kept his attention locked on Tristan. “What about you?”

“It’s really not my call.” Tristan took off his shoes and tried to get comfortable.

“I suppose. But the working dynamics here are important.”

Tristan put his shoes back on and scratched at his arms. “Didn’t I already tell you how I felt about it? I don’t want her around. I mean, not to be rude or mean or anything, but what if something happens to you or her? What if she was pregnant and I—I couldn’t take it.”

“Do you think being in the Makai wasn’t risky before you came along? We both know the dangers and we’re both still involved. You think we should both just quit and walk away, so we can get safe office jobs?”

“Well, yeah. Especially if you want kids.”

“Landon was raised in the Makai and he turned out great. His parents would have been proud—”

“That’s a terrible example,” Landon said. “I think they would have been happier to live. And Tristan, why do you insist on thinking you’re going to kill us all, first chance you get?”

“How do you know I won’t?”

“Landon,” snapped Donovan. “Rein it in and change the subject.”

Tristan kicked his shoes off again. “It’s me. I’m sorry.” He unbuckled his seatbelt and stood. But there was nowhere to go and he sat back down, pulling his knees to his chest. “How much longer?”

“Eight hours.”

He covered his face with his hands and rocked back and forth, determined to keep the pressure of excess energy under control.