Reckoning (Book 5) (11 page)

Tressa slipped out of her tent in the dark of night. She peeked into the tent next to hers. Fi was sleeping, guarded by one of the women from the Vulture's Tower. Even if Tressa couldn't keep an eye on Fi day and night, she made sure someone else would. Tressa nodded to the guard, patting her on the shoulder. The guard smiled, then went back to playing dice.

With the reddish light of the blood moon guiding her, Tressa stepped carefully among the tents to the one with six guards surrounding it. Unlike the woman in front of Fi's, these guards stood alert, weapons at the ready.

"I want to talk to him," she told Rynth.

"He's been cooperative, but still, from what you have told me, I worry. Do you want me to accompany you?" Rynth asked.

"No." Tressa laid a hand on his arm. "I'll be fine. I promise."

Rynth pushed aside the flap. Tressa ducked under it, entering the tent. The moon glowed on Jarrett's sleeping face from the hole at the top. Tressa sat next to him, quietly observing the man who had once been her lover. She'd sacrificed everything for him, and he for her. Until something had happened to him on the Isle of Repose.

He'd met the Keeper, and it changed his life forever. And Tressa's. What changed Jarrett changed her, too. Now she knew the Keeper and Donovan were one and the same. Her greatest enemy held permanent sway over the man she once loved. Still loved? She wasn't sure anymore.

Jarrett's long, dark eyelashes fluttered as he opened his eyes. That smile she loved so much, those full lips she missed kissing, those arms she thought of at night when she wanted someone next to her—even though he wasn't the last man she'd been with. No, that was Bastian, in a moment of weakness for both of them.

"Hi." Jarrett sat up. The blanket covering him fell to his waist, revealing his tightly-muscled chest.

Tressa forced herself to keep her eyes on his. "Hi."

"I'm sorry for the things I did to you and your friends,” Jarrett said. “Bastian. The dragonlings. All of it. I can't ever make any of them come back to life. I can't fix it."

Tressa took a deep breath. "I would like to say you're forgiven, but it's not that simple."

"I know." Jarrett reached out, taking her hand. "I don't expect forgiveness for what I've done."

"It wasn't you. Donovan, the Keeper, whatever you call him, he had a magical hold on you." Tressa tried to keep her hand from trembling.

"Still," Jarrett said. "It's unforgivable. All of it." Tears glistened in the corners of his eyes.

Tressa wanted to fall into his arms. She wanted, more than anything, to love him the way she once had. But she didn't. The man she loved had been cleaved in two. Part of him was still there, yes, but there was another part that served evil. "We never found a way to sever you from Donovan's control. For that, I am sorry. If we had..."

"Things might be different," Jarrett said, finishing her sentence. "You don't have to worry. I won't ask anything of you. All the promises we made, all of the sweet things we whispered in the dark, they are part of a past we can never return to."

Tressa swallowed the lump in her throat.

Jarrett reached up, resting his palm on her cheek. "For what it's worth, I did love you, Tressa. I loved you more than anyone I ever met. Thank you for reciprocating."

"Jarrett," Tressa said, holding back a sob. She didn't want it to be over. She wished she could turn back time and keep him safe from the man who would ruin him forever.

Jarrett wiped away her tears. "I can't escape Donovan's spell. I am his puppet, whether I like it or not. I'm just happy I was able to return Fi to you, alive and well. I don't know what Donovan had planned for her, but knowing him, it wouldn't have been pleasant. I saved Fi. For you."

"Jarrett, you fool." Despite her best intentions, Tressa leaned down, covering his lips with her own. They kissed, hungry for each other and the love they'd once shared. Tressa lost herself in the embrace, her hands wandering his chest, remembering every contour as if she'd only touched him the day before.

His hands fumbled on her shoulders, pushing Tressa away. "No. Don't. We can't. I refuse to hurt you, or anyone you love, ever again."

Tressa's chest heaved with want and with anger. They couldn't be together. “I know. We can't. After everything, I couldn't." It was the brutal truth, and though it hurt both of them, it had to be said.

"I'm so sorry about Bastian, particularly," Jarrett said. "I killed him right in front of you. I'm ashamed to admit it, but at the time, I enjoyed it. It wasn't just the heat of battle and Donovan's control over me. Deep down, I wanted you all to myself. I thought if Bastian was gone, then maybe we'd still have a chance. All of my thoughts were twisted—the good mixing with the bad—and Bastian's death was too personal."

Tressa sat back on her heels, debating whether or not to tell Jarrett Bastian was still alive. She'd barely dealt with it herself, choosing to stay away from him for so long. It was partially because she was bereft over losing Fi and her dragon. It was also because she knew she still had feelings for her first love, while her feelings for Jarrett remained unresolved. She had already taken advantage of Bastian when she told him about her miscarriage. They'd made love that night, and it meant more than she'd admitted. She'd told herself it was because they were in Hutton's Bridge and old feelings were resurfacing. During her self-imposed exile in the Charred Barrens, she'd found herself thinking of Bastian more and more, until she couldn't stand it anymore.

Despite everything, she still loved the tall redhead.

Tressa looked down at Jarrett. She'd loved him, too. But that love had changed. Jarrett was no longer the same man she'd fallen for. More than anything now, she pitied him. He was stuck between the world he wanted to live in and the one his master forced him to participate in. It was his living hell.

"What will you do with me?" he asked.

He was Tressa's prisoner now. "I don't know," she answered honestly.

"You have my permission to use me any way you choose. As bait, even. I will serve you as long as I can. If Donovan advances on us, it may be harder for me to hold myself together. Use me in any way you see fit. I trust you, Tressa." Jarrett's dark brown eyes looked into hers, sad, yet resolute.

"Even now I wish I could tell the guards to leave you on your own. I'm glad you understand why I can't. I trust you—I just can't trust the magic surrounding you. If you attempt to hurt any of my people, they have orders to kill you."

"Good. There are days I think perhaps I would be better off dead."

Tressa scooted closer, wrapping an arm around Jarrett's shoulder. "I'm glad you aren’t. You can still do good, Jarrett. You saved Fi from Donovan, didn't you? Perhaps there is more good inside, waiting to come out. We don't know. I won't allow anyone to hurt you unless I absolutely have to."

She kissed his cheek, lingering only a moment longer than necessary. It was hello, and it was goodbye.

"We never had a chance, did we?" Jarrett asked. "Everyone was against us."

Tressa thought back to Bastian's anger at her choice. Jarrett's old lover, Jacinda, the Queen of the Yellow, had done everything in her power to keep them apart. Then came the Keeper. Donovan's magic was far stronger than any human manipulation.

"No matter what happens to us, I will never, ever let Donovan win. Never." Tressa stood resolutely, her hands in fists at her side.

"I know you won't, and I love you for it," Jarrett said.

Tressa wanted to tell Jarrett she loved him, too. The words wouldn't form. "Goodbye, Jarrett. Thank you for everything."

He didn't respond as she swept out of the tent. Tressa ran to her tent, collapsing on her bedroll. She'd finally had the chance to say goodbye to a man she'd deeply loved. He wasn't dead, but he was lost to her forever.

The trumpeting of a horn woke Tressa from a fitful sleep. In her dreams she was trying to save Jarrett from Donovan's grasp. Her heart heavy, she threw off her blanket, pulled on her boots, and emerged from her tent into the crisp morning air.

"What is it?" she asked the guard assigned to her tent.

"I don't know. Word hasn't reached us yet."

They didn't have to wait long before Krom ran up, his gray cloak flapping behind him. "Tressa, there is a dragon approaching. It's a Blue."

She clapped Krom on the shoulder. "That's my friend Connor. Let's welcome him with open arms."

Tressa ran out to the open field, waving to Connor. He was still far in the distance, and she cursed Donovan again. If she'd been able to change into her dragon, Connor would know to come toward them, rather than fly around to the side. Instead, she flailed her arms in the air, jumping up and down.

Alden landed next to her.
He doesn't recognize you from so far away. Want me to give him a signal?

"Thank you so much," Tressa said, smiling. Alden had helped Connor see her once before, using his ghostly dragon ice. If not for that, she would have died in the peaks of the Barrier Mountains.

Alden flew toward Connor, blowing cold bursts of air. Connor swerved to the right, then to the left, circling around. Alden let Connor fly past him, then blasted Connor's dragon arse with ice pellets.

Tressa laughed, clutching her belly.

"What is wrong with that dragon?" Krom asked as the two of them watched Connor dart around in the sky. "Is he ill?"

"No, he's fine," Tressa said. "I'm sending him a message that he needs to land. I think he'll understand soon enough."

Krom eyed Tressa, but she didn't explain. When it became necessary, she would tell the warriors in gray about her ghost dragon army. Until then, they would remain her secret.

Connor finally spotted Tressa, still waving her arms and jumping, and flew toward her. The jerking ceased as Alden calmly followed Connor to the ground, landing beside him.

Connor changed into his human form and took Tressa in his arms for a hug. "I'm so glad to see you." He opened his mouth as if to say more, then stopped when he noticed Krom standing nearby.

"I'm glad to see you, too, Connor. I've been searching for you." Tressa pushed back his sandy hair and kissed him on the cheek.

"Sophia said you'd left the Ruins of Ebon looking for me, so I flew out to find you. I knew eventually we'd cross paths, but I didn't expect you to be with an army." Connor held out a hand to Krom. "I'm Connor."

"Krom. It's nice to meet you. Tressa has told us about you and your friend Bastian. Is he on his way as well?"

"No. He's in the Meadowlands. I was sent to muster help from the Charred Barrens." Connor rolled his eyes. "You see how well that worked out."

Tressa grabbed Connor's elbow, guiding him back toward camp. She didn't want to stand exposed in the meadow for too long. There was safety in the encampment. "Granna told me they wouldn't fight. I am still stunned by Mestifito's cowardice. I lost my dragon, too, but I intend to fight. So does Fi."

"Fi?" Connor asked, his eyes wide. "She's alive?"

"Yes," Tressa said with a smile. "She stumbled up on us, much like you did."

"Your army isn't hard to miss," Connor said. "At first, I assumed you were part of the evil army that is out there. At least I did until..." He trailed off, sneaking a furtive glance at Krom. It was clear he wasn’t sure he should reveal the truth about the ghost dragons.

"Until you saw me jumping in the field, acting like a fool to get your attention," Tressa finished for him hastily.

"So you can see them," Krom said, relief flooding his voice. "All this time, we thought you couldn't."

"What are you talking about?" Tressa asked.

"The dragons with no form."

Tressa's jaw dropped as she gaped at Krom. "If you can see them, why didn't you say something?"

Krom shrugged. "We thought you couldn't see them, even though they followed you everywhere, so we held our tongues."

"We?" Tressa asked.

"All of us. All of the warriors in gray can see them."

Tressa stopped in her tracks, dumbfounded. "All these days we've been traveling together, and no one has mentioned it?"

"We did not think it mattered. It was clear the dragons were watching over you and held no malice toward you. If you couldn't see them as we could, why alarm you by mentioning it? Imagine hearing you had an army of ghosts trailing you, but you couldn't see them."

"Can you talk to them?" Tressa asked, curious how much more they knew.

Krom’s brow furrowed. "Talk to them? No. Can you?"

"I can hear their thoughts, but only one of them speaks to me directly. Alden, their leader." Tressa gestured to the dragon behind her.

"Ah, yes, the one who is always closest to you, protecting you." Krom nodded to Alden, and Alden dipped his head in return.

My dragons were unaware they could see us. These warriors in gray are good at hiding things. I think we can trust them, but I would not stake your life on it.
Alden's slitted eyes fell on Krom, sizing him up.

"From now on, we shouldn't withhold information from each other," Tressa said. "I'm sorry I kept the ghost dragons from you. I wasn't sure I could trust you at first. These dragons are close to my heart. I didn't want to betray their presence if it might endanger them."

"I agree," Krom said.

"While we are sharing secrets, there is much I have to tell you," Connor said. "We need to combine our resources if we are to win this war."

"A war?" Krom asked. "Has it truly come to that so quickly?"

"Yes," Connor fell in stride with Tressa and Krom as they altered course, heading toward the largest tent, the one they used to make their plans. "Not long after I left to ask for help from the Black, I received a pigeon telling me that a battalion of flying skeletons had descended on the Meadowlands. The Green easily, and successfully, fought them off. We believe this is only beginning."

"Is the Green sheltering those who are unable to fight?" Tressa asked, thinking of the few friends she'd made while she was there. The young girl, Margret, who had helped Tressa when she'd landed on the shore of the Meadowlands after being cast to sea by Jacinda. Surely Margret’s brothers Peyter and Edmond were old enough to fight.

Connor looked at Tressa, his eyes sad. "Those who cannot fight have left."

"For the Sands?" Tressa asked. "I'm not sure they'll find protection there."

"No," Connor said. "They have taken to the sea. They are flying west, hoping to find asylum in a new land. Hazel and my children have gone with them. Bastian's children, too. We are preparing to fight. However, the Green will only fight until they receive word that their families are safe on the other side of the sea. They plan to retreat then, leaving the Dragonlands to Donovan and his minions."

"No!" Tressa pushed aside the flap to the tent with far more vigor than she'd intended. "We can't just leave our land to Donovan. Who is to say he wouldn't come across the sea, seeking to harm more of us?"

Krom sat down at the head of the table. He unrolled a large vellum map on the table, holding the corners down with stones. "We are here," he said, pointing near the center of the map. "Using the Meadowlands as a base will put us at a disadvantage. Donovan's army could trap us there. We need a more defensible place to make our stand."

"We should ask Jarrett if he knows anything of Donovan's plans," Tressa said, knots twisting in her stomach. She hated treating him like a common prisoner, someone who was only useful for information. She had to force herself to remember that the Jarrett she knew was lost to her. He could never be cleaved from Donovan's power.

"Jarrett?" Connor asked. "He's dangerous. I wouldn't trust a word out of his mouth. You can't let your heart speak for you, Tressa."

"Don't you think I know that?" she asked, her eyes on fire. "We have him in our custody, and we should use him. He's willing to help."

"I'm sure he is," Connor said under his breath.

"I heard that," Tressa said.

"Good." Connor stood over Krom’s shoulder. "I trapped Decarian and blocked the entrance to Desolation here." He pointed at the Red castle next to the Barrier Mountains. "There aren't many directions his army could have gone."

"I want to help." Fi barged into the tent. "Sorry it took me so long to get up. I'm still sore."

Fi's face was bruised and swollen. She walked with a slight limp.

"Fi, it's so good to see you," Connor said, a smile on his face. "It appears you aren't as easily killed as we feared."

Fi only offered a weak smile. The strong, confident woman had been beaten down, but Tressa was sure her old friend was still in there somewhere.

"I know where Donovan is hiding," Fi said, walking over to the table. She traced a line from their camp through the forest, then circled one spot with her fingertip. "He's in here. There's a cabin that serves as his base and a cave nearby where he spends most of his time. I think the skeletons in his army have dug a hole from the Red castle to this spot. Decarian will emerge there, along with the others trapped with him."

Fi took a deep breath, locking eyes with Tressa. "They're going to kill us. There's nothing we can do to stop them. They are simply too powerful."

“Perhaps.” Tressa ran her fingertips over the map. “It won’t stop me trying.”