“Bastien Blackhall,” Bastien introduced himself politely. He shook hands with Regan.
“Bastien is a werewolf I met in The Woodlands,” I added. “And Bastien, this is Regan,” I explained to him. “Half dragon, half human. Regan, I was wondering…” I said, turning to her. “I need to ask you for a rather big favor.”
“What’s that?” she asked.
“Bastien and I need to visit The Woodlands. We need to travel via the ogres’ beach gate, and we need somebody to take us. I didn’t have much luck with the jinn or witches…”
Regan’s face brightened. “Sounds like fun,” she said. “I know where The Woodlands is, too.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes!” she chirped. “When I was younger, my dad would take me on flying trips and we sometimes ventured into the supernatural dimension. We passed The Woodlands a bunch of times.”
“Well, that’s great,” I said.
“How long would you want to stay there?” she asked.
“Uh, I’m not sure yet. But I would say at least two days… We might need some flexibility.”
“I don’t think that you should stay longer than a week, Victoria,” Bastien said, eyeing me.
“Okay, well…” I hoped that we’d both return before that, anyway. “What do you say, Regan? Do you think your parents would be okay with it?”
“My mom’s out right now, I think. But my dad should be at home. He didn’t accompany the League this time… When do you want to leave?” she asked, eyeing my suitcase.
I exchanged glances with Bastien. “We were kind of thinking around now.”
“Oh. I’ll go speak to him then. Wait here for me.”
As she retreated into the Black Heights, Bastien and I sat down on a rock and waited patiently for her to reemerge.
She returned about half an hour later, and I was glad to see that she still had a smile on her face. She was accompanied by her imposing golden-eyed dragon father, Azaiah.
“I can come!” Regan said. She twisted to show me her back, and I realized that she already had a backpack strapped to her. “I packed plenty of spare clothes in here for all the times I might need to shift…”
“She can come,” Azaiah repeated in a rumbling voice, “but only if I come, too.” I realized that he was also carrying a satchel.
“Oh, thank you,” I said. “That’s very kind of you.”
“Also,” Azaiah said, looking sternly at his daughter, “she must put in some extra study hours on the weekends when she returns… Right, Regan?”
“Yeah, yeah,” she said, waving a hand. “I know.”
We moved to the center of the clearing in front of the Black Heights, where Regan and Azaiah handed their backpacks to Bastien and me, before beginning to shift. Their limbs billowed and tore their clothes. Shiny gray scales erupted and spread across their skin. A few moments later, towering above us were two mighty dragons. I had seen Azaiah shift many times before, but less so with Regan. Her lilac eyes were large, intensified, and her gray scales shimmered with hints of silver. Regan was something of a wallflower in her humanoid form, with mousy brown hair and a splash of freckles across her nose and cheeks. But as a dragon, she was breathtaking.
Although a number of female fire dragons had been born to the couples of The Shade, they were still a rare commodity for the fire dragon race. That was something that they hoped would begin to change over time.
Regan extended one of her clawed hands for Bastien and me to climb onto. Apparently she wanted to carry us both. She lifted us level with her back, and Bastien and I climbed aboard.
We settled down in the curve behind Regan’s neck. I placed my suitcase between my legs, while Bastien kept the backpacks secure with him. I slid my hands between the cracks of Regan’s scales, while Bastien sat right behind me, his chest touching my back. He, too, gained a grip on the scales, planting his hands on either side of me and making me feel enclosed, secure.
“Hold on to your hats!” Regan said in a husky voice. Her wings spread and we launched into the air next to her father.
Victoria
We traveled first to the small, uninhabited island near The Shade that held the portal leading to one of the ogres’ beaches. This island was known to us colloquially as Rose and Caleb’s island, due to the time when they had been shipwrecked here with Annora.
We touched down once we arrived at the shore. Azaiah thought it wiser to travel the rest of the way to the gate on foot, since the jungle was dense and it was hard to spot the location from the air.
We remained on Regan’s back as we trundled through the trees and bushes. Finally, we neared the small clearing where the old, crumbling well was situated. I spotted tracks belonging to Nightshade—our helicopter-tank. The tracks stopped ten feet or so in front of the well. I slid off Regan and moved toward the tracks, reaching out my hands. They soon hit against the invisible barrier.
“Kyle?” I called.
There was a pause, and then the sound of a metal door groaning open. Footsteps followed, then the crunching of leaves, until Kyle emerged, apparently out of thin air. He was unshaven, his gray hair tousled, and he held a book in his right hand. He’d been reading, as he usually did, while waiting for the League.
“Hey,” he said, looking quite shocked to see the four of us here. “What are you doing?”
“We need to make a trip to The Woodlands,” I explained. I told him briefly why before concluding, “Well, we’ll see you around. You’ll probably still be here on our”—or at least my, Azaiah and Regan’s—“way back.”
He nodded. “Most probably. The League has a lot of work ahead of them, to say the least.”
He bade us goodbye and good luck, then disappeared from our view again as he retreated into Nightshade.
Bastien, Regan, Azaiah and I approached the portal and didn’t delay leaping through.
Once we reached the other side, we shot out like bullets, landing on hot sand. The sun blazed overhead, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. On rising to my feet, my first instinct was to look around to see if I could spot any signs of my parents and the rest of the League. I noticed footsteps in the sand, where apparently they had been gathered, but the beach appeared to be empty.
I supposed it was just as well. My parents had enough things to concentrate on without thinking of what trouble I might be getting into in werewolf country.
Bastien and I climbed atop Regan’s back again, and the four of us continued on our journey to The Woodlands.
When we spotted the looming outline of our destination in the distance, Bastien was quiet. I twisted my head to check that he was okay. His brows were furrowed in concentration, his gray eyes set on his homeland.
I faced forward again, trying to imagine what he was feeling. I supposed that reuniting with people he had grown up with, who had been so close to his parents, would peel back scars. Inevitably, he would have to relive the night he’d lost his parents and siblings all over again in describing to his people exactly what had happened.
Once we had soared over the shoreline, Bastien’s concentration increased. We were relying on him now to lead us the rest of the way. We traveled over countless woods, meadows and lakes, until eventually I spotted the familiar mountain range of the Blackhalls.
We approached the main entrance to the castle. I couldn’t help but scan the windows at the top, near the mountain peak—one of those windows had been Bastien’s and I recalled our harrowing midnight escape route. My stomach dropped just looking at the distance Bastien had carried me down.
“You can land there, in that clearing,” Bastien said, indicating the spot to the dragons.
They circled in the air, directly over the target, for several moments to gain their bearings. Then they descended and landed gracefully.
Bastien took the suitcase that was settled between my thighs, wound one arm around me, and pulled us both from Regan’s back.
“I suppose we should shift now,” Regan said once Bastien and I we
re on the grass.
“That would be wise,” Bastien said, eyeing the comparatively narrow mountain entrance.
He removed the backpacks he had been keeping safe for her and her father, and handed them over. They gripped the bags between their jaws before moving into the trees in separate directions to look for somewhere discreet they could shift and change.
Bastien returned his focus on the mountain and breathed in deep. I sensed that he was scenting the atmosphere.
“Does it smell like home?” I asked quietly.
He glanced at me. Dimples formed in his cheeks as he smiled for the first time in hours. “Not as much as you.”
Victoria
The dragons didn’t keep us waiting long. They soon returned sporting a change of clothes.
Azaiah's eyes roamed the mountain. “So this is where your tribe lives?” he asked Bastien.
He nodded.
“It’s probably a good thing that you brought us along,” Regan said. “Extra protection and all… You don’t expect there to be any trouble though, do you?”
Bastien shook his head, his jaw clenching.
“For the time being, The Woodlands is at peace again,” I said.
Regan, surprisingly chatty, continued making light conversation until we arrived outside the mountain’s main entrance. Here, Bastien drew in a breath. He stepped forward and planted three knocks against the door, hard and in quick succession.
His Adam’s apple moved as he swallowed and stepped back.
Footsteps didn’t sound for several minutes. But when they did, they came loud and hurried. A bolt drew open, and the wooden doors parted. Standing in the doorway was an elderly gentleman. In human years, he looked perhaps seventy years old. His hair was white, his shoulders slightly hunched, and his tan skin was deeply lined.
His face immediately brightened when he laid eyes on Bastien, to my relief. It was nice to witness somebody greeting him with a genuine smile.
“Bastien, my lad! Where in The Woodlands have you been?” He moved forward and grabbed Bastien by the shoulders, pulling him into a firm embrace.
“I must tell you the whole story, Cecil,” Bastien said. “How are you?”
“Much better now that you have arrived on our doorstep!” he said cheerily, clapping Bastien on the back. “And who are your companions?” Cecil inquired.
“This is Victoria,” Bastien said, reaching for my hand and drawing me forward. “She is from The Shade—of Novak blood—and a very dear friend of mine.”
Cecil shook my hand warmly.
“And this is Regan,” Bastien continued, “Another noble lady of The Shade—she is half dragon, half human. Along with her valiant father, Azaiah—a full dragon.”
“Regan must be a rare breed indeed,” Cecil remarked, before shaking hands with her and her father, too.
“Cecil was my parents’ most trusted advisor, and most likely, the closest friend they ever had,” Bastien explained to us.
“A pleasure to make your acquaintance,” I said.
“Come in, come in! You must tell me everything that has happened since the hour you left. You must be in need of refreshments, also.”
Cecil led us through the entrance hall, along several corridors where more unfamiliar werewolves sprang from doorways and hurried to greet Bastien. They joined us in entering a large hall that appeared to be a lounge. Its stone floors were heavily clad with rugs, and cushioned seats were scattered about generously.
Bastien sat with me, Regan and Azaiah in the center, dozens of werewolves gathering around us. A woman who appeared to be in her thirties arrived carrying a tray containing four goblets and a jug filled with a vibrant purple-pink liquid.
“Oh, you must try this,” Bastien said, an unexpected excitement rising in his voice.
“What is it?” I wondered.
“Just try it.” He filled the four goblets and handed one to each of us, then picked up the fourth for himself. He watched me closely as I took the first sip. The drink was refreshingly cold, and as I swallowed the only way I could think to describe it was as… the best-tasting smoothie in the world. It tasted like it was made primarily of berries—the sweetest and most succulent I’d ever tasted.
Bastien grinned as he noted how much I enjoyed it, before he took a deep swig from his own cup.
“Dinner will be served later,” a second woman explained as she brought in another tray—filled with a mouthwatering array of berries and other exotic-looking fruits. The fragrance from the platter made my mouth water.
Bastien leaned back in his chair, and, after introducing Regan, Azaiah and me to the new werewolves who had joined us, he said, “Why don’t you tell me what you know first, so I know which gaps you are missing in the story.”
“We only learned of Detrius and Orion’s betrayal when packs of wolves arrived to inform us and slaughter them. You know about this?”
Bastien nodded. “I’m aware of my cousin and uncle’s treachery, and also the fact that they are dead. The justice that was served upon them was triggered by the good people of The Shade, in fact. Detrius would still be ruling over you now had it not been for them.”
“All of us were too much in shock to even suspect Detrius and Orion,” another male wolf spoke up. “Although we knew of their envy of your parents, we never could have dreamed that they would have become such traitorous, cold-blooded murderers.”
Bastien grimaced. “Since we both know of the event, let us turn to other matters.”
“Where did you go?”
“How did you escape?”
Two questions were shot at Bastien in unison.
Bastien explained patiently how the IBSI had decided not to murder him along with his family, and instead to take him back to their headquarters on Earth. He explained how we had met and his return to The Woodlands and everything that had happened up until we arrived outside the castle’s door just now. He did leave out details of how close the two of us had gotten, though he was sure to inform them that neither Brucella nor any of the Northstones were welcome in Blackhall territory anymore.
I was receiving a number of grateful glances by the time Bastien had finished, having been informed that I’d freed him. I felt rather uncomfortable at the attention, considering that Arwen was just as much his savior as I was.
Bastien glanced around the hall. “So were only my cousin and uncle found to be traitors in the investigation?”
“There were a few others too,” Cecil replied sadly, before proceeding to rattle off several names.
Bastien looked deeply disappointed.
“All of them helped with the cover-up,” Cecil went on, “taking advantage of our grief to pull the wool over our eyes. They’re no longer living either.”
A brief silence fell about the chamber, as perhaps many of us wondered the same thing: What’s next?
I stopped eating berries and sat tensely at the edge of my seat.
“So, how have you been managing since the execution?” Bastien asked.
“Well,” Cecil replied, exchanging glances with two other younger wolves. “We are still in the process of organizing ourselves, but I suppose I have been the one calling the shots… trying to bring some order among us.” He smiled at Bastien. “But I’m oh-so-glad that you have returned. I fit the role of a leader much less than I do a counselor.” He let out a dry chuckle. “Not as young as I once was.” Cecil turned to one of the men. “Go fetch the crown,” he said. He addressed Bastien again as the man hurried out. “I retrieved it personally from your cousin’s head before he was executed.”
I recalled how Detrius had given the crown to Bastien when we’d visited. No doubt he’d taken it back the moment we left, and had planned to take it back after he’d killed Bastien during the night.
The man returned barely a minute later carrying the heavy object, and placed it atop Bastien’s head. Bastien looked regal with it on, though somehow, he didn’t look quite at ease beneath its weight.
“Worn like our tru
e leader,” Cecil said fondly, and I could’ve sworn he had tears in the corners of his eyes as he gazed upon Bastien.
It seemed like, now that Bastien had returned, nobody here had even considered appointing anybody else as ruler. All eyes were on him, glistening with relief and expectation.
There go my hopes of Bastien returning to The Shade with me in a few days… Still, it wasn’t the end of the world for us. Even if he remained here full time in his role as chieftain, we could still be together. The Woodlands was safer now than it was when the hunters had been here. I’d survive the next few days without problems, and that should put Bastien’s mind at ease regarding me staying even longer. He could appoint a second-in-command also so that he could still visit our island…
As I was mulling over the implications of Bastien’s rule, he stood and addressed his people. “Thank you all for remaining loyal to me and to my family.” He reached for his crown and held it in his hands. “I do not take this responsibility lightly. If any of you deem there is a more worthy leader among us, then do inform me.” He turned to Cecil and raised his brows.
Cecil shook his head, chuckling. “I believe I speak for every one of us when I say you are our choice.” He glanced around the large hall, which I realized had become even more packed as our discourse had progressed.
“Hear, hear,” dozens of voices called out, amidst clapping.
I didn’t miss the slight heave of Bastien’s chest before he replied in a booming voice, “Then if it is me and me alone whom you choose, I shall bear this crown with pride.”
Victoria
Bastien spent the remainder of the day catching up with his friends and well-wishers, as well as acclimatizing to the responsibilities he now had. Responsibilities laid on him for the first time in his life. I wasn’t sure if his parents had prepared him for the eventuality that he might have to rule. But he did not seem to have too much difficulty in wrapping his head around it. I supposed that he had watched his father in this alpha role for so many years, much of it came instinctively to him.