Scorched (17 page)

“Ask and the Nether shall provide,” Caleb replied nonchalantly, though Trin caught him wiping a sheen of sweat from his brow. Whatever he’d done, it’d taken a lot out of him. “That’s what makes this place so cool. We can do anything we want to do. Be anyone we want to be. It’s limitless! Well, until you get back to real life that is,” he amended. “Then you have to face the fire.”

“What do you mean?”

“Remember how you felt after using your gift on that cop?” Caleb reminded her. When she nodded, he added, “Imagine that but ten times worse. Like a hangover, I guess. And your spark is totally depleted.” He gave her a rueful look. “Sorry, I probably should have warned you in advance.”

She shrugged, taking a marshmallow and stuffing it onto her stick. “Whatever,” she said, waving a hand in dismissal. “This is well worth a little hangover.” She looked out over the valley below, at the sky, flaming red from the setting sun. “To be here. To see this.” She shook her head. “It’s unbelievable really.” She gave him a shy look. “Thank you. It’s just what I needed—a chance to get my mind off everything.”

“So you enjoyed your ride?”

“It was incredible,” she admitted, watching the marshmallow turn a golden brown as she held it over the flames. “I can’t even put it into words. And it wasn’t just the flying either. But the chance to let go like that—to just be able to enjoy the ride.” A warm glow flowed through her. “Let’s just say that’s not something I’ve been able to do much in my life.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” he said with a slow smile. “I’ll never forget my first time. I thought I was going to die. Instead, it’s when I finally started living.”

A silence fell over them, each lost in their own thoughts as the fire crackled between them. She looked over, watching him gazing tenderly at his dragon and she felt a warmth settle in her stomach. He was so different here than he acted in the outside world. As if just being here allowed him to shed his prickly skin and reveal his true self underneath. Here he seemed relaxed, gentle, kind. Almost sweet. So unlike the sullen, sarcastic boy he pretended to be.

He looked up, catching her gaze. His eyebrows raised. She felt her face heat and she turned quickly away. As she stared purposely into the fire, she could feel his eyes rake over her with curious intensity, as if asking a question she wasn’t sure how to answer.

“Wow, this fire is pretty hot,” she stammered, pushing back on her log.

“Yeah,” he answered slowly. “Some might say scorching.”

Scorching. Yes, she felt scorched all right. But not by the fire. She cleared her throat, trying to still her pounding heart as her stomach flip-flopped madly. She tried to tell herself it was because she still hadn’t eaten. But deep down, she knew that wasn’t it at all.

“So do you only do this in the Nether?” she asked quickly, desperate for a subject change. “Or do you ride Fred in real life too, back home in the future?”

Caleb’s face sobered. “I used to,” he replied, a bitterness creeping into his voice. “Before.”

“What do you mean? Did something happen?” Trinity glanced worriedly over at Fred, who was smacking her lips in her sleep and moaning loudly—likely dreaming of jerky treats. Had someone hurt her? Or worse?

“Remember what I told you—only dragons yet to be born or those who have already died can exist here in the Nether,” Caleb said slowly. “In other words, Fred is no longer a part of the real world. I can only see her when I come here.”

“What happened to her?”

He gave her a hard look. “How do you say it in your world? Oh yeah: I’ll give you three guesses, but the first two don’t count.”

She stared at him, dread rising within her. It couldn’t be true. Could it? “Oh God. Not…”

“Oh yes. The great and glorious dragon hunter,” he spat. “My own brother.”

“How could he do that?” she blurted out, horrified. But even as she asked the question, she realized she already knew the answer. Connor believed dragons were evil. They’d killed his father. They’d destroyed his world. None of them were pardoned from his bloody crusade—not even sweet, silly Fred.

And especially not Emmy.

Caleb scowled. “He actually had the nerve to tell me he was doing me a favor,” he ground out, “that I had been brainwashed by an evil fiend and he was only doing his brotherly duty, breaking me free.” His hands curled into fists, his fingernails cutting into his palms. “But Fred didn’t do anything wrong, Trin. She wasn’t a monster. Her only crime was belonging to me.”

His voice broke. Trinity’s heart wrenched at the naked pain she caught in his eyes. She couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for him—to lose someone he loved at the hands of his own twin. No wonder he was so bitter. So angry. So sarcastic. He was hiding a mountain of pain behind those sullen eyes.

“But I don’t understand,” she tried. “If you were bonded to a dragon and she died…”

“Our bond hadn’t yet been completed at the time he did the deed,” Caleb explained. “That was one of the excuses he gave, actually—he had to kill her to save me.” His expression darkened. “I told him not to do me any favors.”

Trinity nodded slowly, knowing all too well what he meant. That helpless feeling of being left behind. Of having someone you love ripped away and the sudden realization that you’re all alone—and will be forever. After all, hadn’t she herself once stared down the barrel of a certain shotgun, hopelessly broken inside, wondering if Mom had seen fit to leave her dear old daughter a spare bullet? If her grandpa hadn’t walked in at that very moment, things could have turned out very differently.

“Fred was the only one I could trust,” Caleb continued. “The only one who gave a fleck about me in this stupid world. And Connor murdered her in cold blood. Left me all alone.” He looked up. “And now he’s after your dragon too.”

Trinity flinched. She glanced over at Emmy, sleeping peacefully by her side, her emotions spilling over. She knew, in her head, why Connor would want Emmy dead. But at the same time, her heart told her it wasn’t fair. To punish Emmy for something she didn’t do.

She turned back to Caleb. “You must miss her,” she said softly, not sure what else to say. Words seemed so inadequate in the face of such exquisite loss.

“I do,” he admitted. “It’s one reason I travel to the Nether so often. It’s tearing my body apart in the real world and I know I should stop before I suffer some kind of permanent damage. But,” he whispered, looking sorrowfully at his dragon, “how can I leave her here, all alone?”

Trinity’s heart tore at the wretchedness in his voice, the pain she saw in his eyes. Even if he won this fight, she realized, he’d already lost—lost the one thing he cared about more than anything in the world. All of a sudden, she understood why it was so important for him to help the Dracken succeed. While nothing could bring Fred back, with Emmy, he still had the chance to usher new Freds into the world. Giving other lonely, orphan Potentials a chance to feel valued and whole.

On impulse, she rose to her feet, walking over to his side of the fire and sitting down beside him. Without a word, she reached out, pulling him into her arms. At first he didn’t move, as if startled by her offer of comfort. Then, slowly, he wrapped his hands around her waist, burying his face in the hollow of her throat. She could feel his erratic heartbeat against her chest as he struggled silently with his demons.

For a moment, they just sat there, completely still, locked in their embrace. Then, without warning, Caleb pulled away, pinning her with a dark, hungry gaze. She shivered as she recognized the naked need on his face—the worship in his storm-tossed eyes. As she drew in a shaky breath, he reached out, tracing her cheek with a trembling finger, his touch speaking words she wasn’t sure she was ready to hear.

And then he kissed her. Not the whispering kiss Connor had given her back at her mother’s house. Not tentative, not shy, not the wisp of a butterfly’s wing brushing against her skin, but hard, angry, almost brutal in its intensity—as if trying to punish her for what they’d done to him. Hot blood pounded in her ears as his mouth moved over hers, his hands clamping the sides of her face.

She knew she should break away, to get as far away as possible as her emotions whirled and skittered. But her traitorous body seemed to have other ideas, pressing closer against him, wrapping her legs around his, digging her hands into his hair. As if she could simply melt into his embrace and be done with it all. In that moment, there truly seemed to be nothing else in the world. No dragons, no apocalypse, no loved ones in danger. Just a boy and a girl tangled in one another’s arms.

“You have to admit,” Caleb murmured against her mouth. “You’re suddenly feeling a lot, lot better.”

Oh God. She froze, his words breaking the spell. What the hell was she doing?

Ripping herself from his grasp, she somehow managed to scramble to her feet, staring down at Caleb with wild, unfocused eyes. How could she have let this happen? It was wrong. So wrong. On so many levels.

Caleb looked up to her, his lips swollen and his face torn with confusion. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice hoarse and horrified, and sounding so very scared. He started to rise to his feet. She held up a hand, stopping him in his tracks.

“I’m sorry,” she cried. “But this isn’t right. There’s too much going on. Too much at stake. I can’t afford to be distracted. I can’t lose…” She trailed off helplessly, unable to finish. But from the look on Caleb’s face, she knew she’d said enough. Maybe too much.

“I’m sorry,” she said again. But he was no longer listening.

***

Trinity’s stomach roiled. She leaned over, spewing her guts out onto the hand-scraped hardwood floor, sickly yellow bile pooling at her feet. She groaned, her head aching, as she looked around the room, trying to gain her bearings. No longer was she sitting by the fire on the side of a cliff, two dragons curled up nearby. She was back in the real world—and with the promised Nether hangover to boot, ten times worse than she’d imagined it would be.

She looked down, her breath catching in her throat as she found Caleb’s hands still wrapped in her own. The ones that just minutes before had been touching her so desperately. It was all she could do not to grab him all over again. Surrender to the hot blood still coursing through her veins.

But it was wrong. She had to stay strong. She had to focus on the task at hand and not let anything else distract her. This kiss was nothing more than another trap—like the fancy rooms or the delicious food—seeking to wrest her under Dracken control. To make her forget her real life outside these prison walls.

But she would not surrender. She would not lay down and die. She would not kiss him again.

Caleb opened his eyes. For a moment he sat still, looking dazed and confused. Then a shadow crossed his face and he ripped his hands from hers, ruby red dust flying as he stood up and stalked to the other side of the room. She looked down at her empty hands, a sudden aching emptiness throbbing in her fingers. She frowned and shoved them under her thighs.

“Look, Caleb,” she tried. “I’m—”

Her words were interrupted as the bedroom door flew open. Rashida burst into the room, her eyes wide and frightened. “Mara sent me,” she told her in a voice that betrayed her fear. “She said you have to come now.”

“What is it?” Trinity asked, rising to her feet, sudden fear pounding in her chest. She knew somehow, before the Potential even opened her mouth, that it must have something to do with her dragon. “Is Emmy okay?”

“She’s hatching,” Rashida told her in a tight voice. “They tried to stop it—it’s far too early—but they couldn’t.” Her mouth quivered. “The dragon’s coming, Trinity. And the Dracken need your help.”

Trinity raced after Rashida, through the mall corridors, past curious Potentials, trying not to puke again as the aftereffects of her Nether trip still thrashed at her insides. Her head pounded, her legs felt like lead, but still she pressed on, only one thing on her mind. One name on her tongue.

Trust
me. I’ll never let you fall.

Yet now it was Emmy who was falling, who was failing. Fighting for her life. And Trin was the only one who could help her.

Hang
on, Emmy,
she sent.
I’m on my way.

The birthing chamber had been constructed out of a two-floor Neiman Marcus, repainted entirely in white save for intricate, silver runes etched into the cathedral ceiling. Men and women—presumably other Dracken she hadn’t met yet—bustled about the room, occupied with equipment Trinity couldn’t identify. In the center of the room sat the egg itself, swaddled in a bathtub-sized pool of crystal. From high above, water cascaded down onto the egg, splashing over its shell.

Trinity drew in a breath. She remembered how blown away she’d felt the first time she’d laid eyes on the egg under the glass case in the Millennium Chamber. But that was nothing compared to how she felt now, as she watched the egg trap the chamber’s light and toss it around in a kaleidoscope of color. Emmy was more beautiful than ever—luminous and glowing and ethereal. But it was not her shell’s outer brilliance that brought tears to Trin’s eyes—rather the slight movement, the desperate struggling, just beneath the now translucent surface.

Is
that
you, Emmy?
she whispered, mesmerized by the dark, dragon-shaped shadows.
Is
that
really
you?

“Thank God you’re here.” Trin turned to see Mara on approach. The Birth Maiden’s eyes were vivid but frightened.

“What’s wrong with her?” Trinity asked worriedly. Her eyes searched the egg, catching the hairline fracture at the top. She stepped forward, reaching out to trace the crack with a soft finger, warm water sluicing over her hand. But the warmth was short-lived as she felt Emmy’s chill of terror wash over her. Her stomach clenched.

“We don’t know,” Mara confessed, giving her a helpless look. “I’ve assisted in countless dragon births over the years. But the equipment we have to work with here is practically prehistoric—it can’t tell me what I need to know. All that I can tell is that she’s trying to break free of the egg, but she’s not having any luck. Maybe the shell hardened somehow, by being in the ice so long. Maybe its composition changed after so many years. All I know is the baby dragon’s struggling. And her vital signs are weakening. If we don’t get her out now, she’ll likely die before she can ever be born.”

Trinity cringed and pressed her palm flat against the egg, closing her eyes. Somehow she knew it was up to her. That she was the only one who could save the dragon now.

Or
you
could
end
it
all,
a quiet voice tugged at the back of her brain.
This
is
the
perfect
opportunity—they’d never know it was you.

Her pulse raced as she stole a glance around the room—at the men and women all around her. The dragon sympathizers who had inadvertently sparked an apocalypse once upon a time in another future. Caleb promised that they had the best intentions, that they knew what they were doing this time around—that by saving dragons they would save the world.

Save
the
world?
the voice whispered.
Or
leave
it
vulnerable
to
attack?

Her mind flashed back to Connor and his talk of the Scorch. Of his father, burned alive by dragon’s breath. Of the vision he’d shown her: the screams of agony, the smell of burning flesh, the shadows falling, never to rise again. The entire world all but destroyed because of one single egg.

This
one, single egg.

What if the Dracken couldn’t stop history from repeating itself no matter what their intentions? Would keeping Emmy alive be putting the entire human race at risk?

Once
she’s born, it’ll be too late,
the voice whispered.
You’ll be as hunted as she is. Your life forces intertwined. And if anything happens to the world—like it did the first time around—it’ll be your fault.

She pulled her hand away and felt the eyes of the Dracken shift in her direction, watching, waiting to see what she would do. Pressure started to expand inside her chest, building and pushing against her ribs until she felt as if she were going to explode.

She could end this all now and hope for the best. And maybe the Dracken predictions were wrong. Maybe mankind would find a way to survive without the dragons’ gifts. At least they wouldn’t be burned alive. At least the earth would remain intact.

But what about Emmy?

She closed her eyes, remembering her flight through the Nether. The majestic dragon, soaring through the skies, brave and beautiful, her eyes bright and her head held high. She’d carried Trin on her back. She hadn’t let her fall. Didn’t Emmy deserve the same chance now? The chance to live her life? The chance to fly free?

Emmy didn’t start an apocalypse. She didn’t burn the world to the ground. It was man who caged her, tortured her, stole the spark from her eyes. Man who robbed her of her dragon’s dance and created monsters from her DNA. Emmy didn’t bring about the end of the world—man did, with his lust for war and power. And who was to say he needed dragons to do it the next time around?

Trin shook her head. In the end, she realized, this wasn’t a question of whether dragons would save the world or tear it apart. It didn’t matter what destruction they might bring or what gifts they might offer. This was about a life—one single, precious life, struggling to enter the world. Emmy was pure; she’d committed no folly. She had caused no harm. Her life should not be held forfeit to pay for mankind’s sin.

There was no more decision to make. Trin pressed her hand against the egg once again.
Are
you
there, Emmy?

Nothing. She pulled the egg from the basin, out of the water. A few of the Dracken jumped in alarm, but Mara held out a hand. “Let her try,” she told them. They reluctantly stepped back. Trin took Emmy and brought her to the floor, cradling her in her lap.

Emmy? Can you hear me?

Still nothing. Then…

Trinity?

Her heart leapt. She was alive!

Yes, Emmy! I’m here. Are you okay?

So…weak. So…tired.

As Trin rolled her hand over the egg, stroking it gently, she felt an overwhelming exhaustion come over her. Emmy’s exhaustion, she realized, threatening to crush her with its intensity. But she forced herself to swallow it back, gritting her teeth with the effort.

Listen
to
me, Emmy. You can rest later. Right now, I need you to fight. You must break through your shell.

I
can’t do it. I’m not strong enough.

Then
take
my
strength
instead. Take whatever you need.
The Potentials had been able to push comfort to Trin’s mind back in the food court. Surely she’d be able to do the same, giving her dragon the strength she required.

Are
you
sure? I don’t want to hurt you.

I’m sure.
In fact, Trinity had never been so sure of anything in her life.

She emptied her mind, sweeping all the doubts and insecurities away, preparing to give everything she had inside to the dragon and then some if need be. At that moment, she told herself, she was no longer Trinity Foxx, broken orphan of West Texas. She was the Fire Kissed. The one Emmy had chosen out of all the others. And Trinity wasn’t about to let the dragon down.

Emmy hadn’t let her fall. Now it was Trin’s turn to return the favor.

Do
it, Emmy!
she cried.
Break
free!
She pushed with all her might.

And then the pain came. Excruciating, all-encompassing agony, lashing at her insides and stealing her breath away. Her muscles clenched and her eyes lost focus, sharp screws drilling into her brain while a thousand spiders crawled up and down her skin. She was sure, at one point, she would pass out from it all.

But instead she fought it, refusing to give up on her dragon. Clinging to consciousness as hard as she clung to the egg. Bright lights popped in and out of the room and a strange wailing sound echoed in her ears. It took her a moment to recognize it as screaming. Another to realize it was coming from her own lips.

“Her vital signs are weakening!” she heard somewhere in the distance.

“She’s not going to make it,” another voice cried. Trinity didn’t know if they were talking about the dragon or her. Or maybe both.

She turned her attention back to the egg. Why wasn’t it working? She was giving all she had and it still wasn’t enough. Emmy still wasn’t breaking free. She reached out to the dragon, combing her mind, desperately trying to figure out what was wrong. Why she still was too weak to—

And suddenly she realized the problem. It wasn’t that Emmy was weak or powerless at all.

She was scared.

In fact, she was petrified. But of what?

Trin squeezed the egg between her hands, gritting her teeth and forcing away the pain.
What’s wrong, Emmy?
she begged the dragon, praying there was still time to make things right.
What
are
you
so
afraid
of? Whatever it is, you can tell me.

And so…the dragon did.