He turned back toward the main part of the town and started to fly back in. As he passed a low rise quite close to the hall, a moment of extreme dizziness cut through him. He dipped in the sky, his wings catching the wind before he lost too much height.
An urge to look down and scour the area gripped him, but the area was already covered with Preor and medical officers. They pretty much had things covered.
After a day of searching, it was easy to feel out of sorts. He needed to get back to the ship and immerse himself in the routines that had comforted him since he was young. Upholding Preor history and tradition was very important to him, but at the moment he wanted the creature comforts of it. Job or not, it was where he felt at home.
He spun into a turn and shifted in a nearby field where the Preor operations were stationed. When he landed, he hurried to dress so he could debrief. Looking around, he was surprised by the number of humans threaded in and around the camp.
Any of them could be an enemy, and no one would have a clue about it until the bombs started to go off. Even as he entertained the image, he knew it was too extreme, but that didn’t stop it from gripping him. With a mild shake, he did his best to dispel it.
Coming to live among the humans was going to take trust. Even if sometimes it seemed like a losing proposition, he had to believe in it. After all, what was the alternative?
Giving up. Going home. Forgetting this idea of mating with another race, and do what the Preor had originally planned to.
Hold fast to all that made them the proud, beautiful race they were and die out slowly and surely with dignity and grace. It was a glorious thought—the kind of thing that did very well in picture books.
But, for Tyff, such a thing would never do.
Chapter Two
Thirst.
Her lips were dry, and she regained consciousness to feel her tongue sticky in her mouth. Her muscles ached, and her head pounded. But where was she? And how long had she been there? More importantly, what had happened to her?
She knew she was wounded, but in her woozy condition, it was impossible to gauge exactly how badly.
Wiggle your fingers, she said to herself. They wiggled. Good. Now your toes. They did too. All right. It can’t be that bad.
The rising sun coaxed her eyelids open, bringing her into the conscious world. She rocked her head back and tried to lick her lips, but it only made her thirstier. Her lips were chapped, and her tongue rasped like sandpaper. She was going to have to get some water—fast.
The Choosing had been so much fun. She had gotten ready with her friends and they had spent the day having a beauty spa before they got ready for the big night. It had been like prom all over again—just giggling, and talking, and partying while they pampered themselves with massages and salt baths. After three hours of hair, makeup, and gossip, they squeezed into their dresses.
The event itself had been fancier than any ball she could have imagined, like the kind of event you saw celebrities attending but never dreamed they’d let you in. Everything had been so classy. Sasha Dane had interviewed her and her friends. It was the most glamorous and exciting thing Renay had ever done.
Then the bombs started to go off, as if the universe had conspired to bring Renay the height of her dreams and then roll up the rug and call it a night before the champagne toast. It had all started with a few low rumbles in the distance and then some of the Preor and military types eased out. Nobody seemed panicked in the least.
Mildly worried at most. Everyone knew what the resistance was capable of, but nobody really believed they could get hurt. When officials left the hall, everyone felt safe, even after the booming continued.
We were safe. She exhaled a hot breath. We were safe and we knew we would be protected.
Then the first bomb had hit the hall. It didn’t blow the place open, but it was near enough that the building shuddered and groaned like it was about to come down. Trickles of dust ran through the roof and out of the walls as the foundations shifted. The floor cracked and came up at a sharp angle.
For an instant, it seemed too unreal for Renay to comprehend it. Then everything went dark and she had sand in her eyes. When her friend Kira had grabbed her hand and shouted for her to follow, she couldn’t do anything else. It felt like a slow-motion dream.
Susan, her best friend since grade school, had taken her other hand and the three of them had inched through the wrecked hall amid the pandemonium. With all the noise and the smoke, it was impossible to tell what was going. Or whether anywhere was safe to go.
As they reached a doorway, more bombs cracked into the air—closer than the others. Her ears rang with the impact of it. All she knew was that she could barely see or walk, and she was clinging to her friends in the dark. One of them had to know something.
They had run from the hall. The night air helped Renay clear her eyes, and they bolted for the nearby hills. It was a mad scramble, but they were together. The further they got from the hall, the safer she had felt.
And then, a blinding flash burst directly in front of them. The force of the blast pushed her back, the shock of it keeping her from even hearing the explosion, which was probably for the best. She didn’t even have time to feel any pain before she was knocked out.
The dawn had come slowly, painfully. Inch by inch she had come back to herself, and every bit throbbed. But was anything broken?
She shifted, trying to sit up. A scream rushed through her, but nothing issued from her throat. It just stayed trapped in her chest.
Moving was out of the question. She turned her head a little and glanced around, looking for signs of Kira and Susan. No way was she going to let herself believe they hadn’t survived. They were too strong, too vibrant for that.
She could hear voices not far away, but they didn’t sound like they were getting closer. Still, she had to hope they would find her. Maybe, if she gathered her strength she could call out or something.
All at once, a dark shadow passed over her. It was huge and blocked out the sun so fully that a calming chill spread over her. A giddy dizziness washed through her, but instead of feeling worse, she was yanked into a dreamy, incredible, internal world.
She saw spires of rock and high aeries in impossible skies with clouds like Earth had never seen. Beyond that, rank after rank of Preor were standing at attention. Incredible displays of power and agility played out between land and sky.
It was beautiful, even in the combination of duty and discipline. The sight of it all inspired a deep compassion for all living things—incredible power and staggering ferocity, tempered by incredibly gentle hearts and loving souls.
In the flood of images and emotions, she could feel a presence. It was so close she reached out for it, knowing he must be reaching for her as well.
He?
Yes, it was he.
It was a dragon.
She tried to call out again, hoping to reach the source of all this splendor, but the sound never made it from her throat. The shadow had passed over her now, and the power of the Knowing left her full and empty all at once.
Why doesn’t he stop? He has to stop. If I can feel it, he can too.
The Knowing had brought her a rush of urgency, but her body was too weak to follow where her spirit tugged her. She croaked hoarsely, as if his name lived just beyond the tip of her lips in the air that radiated between her and the source of this shadow.
We are bound. This is the moment. Why doesn’t he stop?