* * *
Emmet had found paradise—a place where magic always existed. Part of him wished to climb on Dashiq's back and bathe in the energy, but even the waves radiating away from the maelstrom were at times overwhelming, and the dragon needed her own time to heal. Being near the captain made Emmet feel safe, even if he didn't know the man's name. Perhaps it was his age that made him so calm, some wisdom found over the years, but he exuded no anxiety or fear as Riette always did. Somehow that strong confidence rubbed off on Emmet. He found himself doing things he'd never have dreamed of. Just the existence of this place was beyond anything he'd ever imagined. He never wanted to leave.
It occurred to Emmet that the captain's silence also put him at ease. Words antagonized Emmet, never coming at the right time. Yet somehow a gesture or a glance were all the captain needed. A hand on his shoulder was somehow reassuring. A long, calloused finger pointed. Movement finally gave away the snake the captain indicated. The finger shook in warning. If Riette knew . . .
The day before, they had harvested saltbark leaves from the near shore, but the trees were widely spaced, and the captain refused to pick more than a few leaves from each tree. It was smart, Emmet knew, but it made the search more difficult and perilous. Though he could swim on his own, the captain hoisted him up onto his shoulders. When he walked into deeper water, where the current was swift, Emmet was glad for the ride. He felt the inescapable rush pulling at them. Previously invisible rays cast off their camouflage and scurried away from the captain's footsteps. Each one made Emmet hold on tighter until a pair of fingers gently loosened his grip.
The brush was thicker on the far side of the channel, making it easy to travel by water. So close to the confluence, though, the shallow water mixed with deeper, colder water. Farther inland, Emmet had already experienced waters warmer than the baths at Sparrowport. A pair of saltbark trees grew in deep, swift water, jutting out into the flow. Swirling vortices danced in the waters just beyond the stiltlike root systems, which supported the trees and provided hiding places for fish, eels, and snakes. Emmet watched for signs of life in the upper leaves also. As he had before, he sensed a presence within the tree and was overwhelmed by the feeling of being loved and cared for. When he picked the leaves, he knew he did so with permission, which made him feel much better. The leaves weren't for him; they were for the dragon. She needed them.
As if his thoughts were heard, the tree responded by shifting in the breeze and offering up the largest bunch of leaves Emmet had seen in their three days of harvesting. When Emmet handed them to the captain, he stopped and marveled at the bundle before placing them in his basket. A long stretch of knotted scrub dominated the shoreline, and only a single saltbark tree clung to life there. The captain hesitated, perhaps considering whether enduring the cold water and currents was worth it. Emmet silently urged him to go. The tree seemed so lonely.
For whatever reason, the tall man waded into waters almost up to his neck. The shoreline beyond was rocky and nothing grew. This was the last tree in the saltbark grove. The captain couldn't do much but hold on to Emmet and keep the basket dry. Emmet did his best to be quick about harvesting what the tree offered, but the tree wanted him to stay. The dragon needed the leaves the tree offered, but the tree needed him. He could feel it. No words were used, only emotions, which Emmet clearly understood. Placing his hands around the trunk, he let the tree touch him as well. Leaves brushed against his hair, and branches rested on his shoulders.
Emotions rushed in and Emmet did nothing to stop the tears flowing down his face. He would have stayed, could have stayed forever. When the captain used two fingers to break his grip on the tree, he felt anger and resentment, but the man trembled beneath him. He didn't know how much time had passed—time really wasn't his thing—but the skies had grown dark. Any longer and it would be a dangerous walk and swim back to camp.
In spite of all that, Emmet wanted to stay, wanted to help this poor, lonely soul who so selflessly gave. He allowed the captain to pull him away, though, and as his hands left the delicate bark, he felt something in his palm. It was a brown teardrop-shaped seed streaked with white stripes.
"Friend," he said without meaning to.
The captain patted him on the leg and moved toward the center of the channel, but Emmet protested, reaching and pointing to a place along the shoreline between the pair of saltbark trees and the one all on its own. At first the captain resisted and followed his original course, but Emmet squirmed and kicked to convey the urgency. After grabbing Emmet's legs to stop him from kicking, the man turned and moved toward where Emmet pointed. Nothing grew there and the captain was a bit perturbed until Emmet showed him the seed. The tall man stopped and marveled, questions flowing in silence. But then he seemed to know what he must do. Lifting the boy from his shoulders with one hand, he lowered him into the water. Emmet knew what he had to do as well.
After sucking in a deep breath, he plunged into the cold water headfirst and eyes open. No matter the burn of salty water and the rays that scattered on his approach, Emmet reached into the sandy bottom and burrowed. In the impression he created, he placed the seed before packing the sand back over it. The captain held him by the breeches, ready to pull Emmet up any second, but the boy was not quite finished yet.
Placing both hands over the sand, he sent emotions to the seed, hoping to return the kindness the tree had shown him. Colorful fish in bright yellows and blues gathered around him now, as if drawn by the energy. It felt as if they approved of what he did and would be there to welcome his new friend when the time arrived. The captain's grip grew less tight, as if he somehow understood. Emmet was grateful. No one had ever really understood him before except Mother. She was gone. Eyes and lungs burning, Emmet thrust himself upward. The captain pulled him back up onto his shoulders, and Emmet clung to the man, shivering.
A cool wind cut across the shallows and bit deeply. The captain strode across the channel with speed and purpose. Seeing a large dorsal fin exploring the waters near Dashiq, he moved with all the speed he could muster.
Upon reaching the shore, he thrust Emmet unceremoniously onto the sand, handed him the basket, and pulled himself from the water with a long groan.
"Friend," Emmet said, shivering and pointing. At least this time he'd meant to say it. The captain nodded and guided him back to the fire.
"We were about to come looking for you," Riette said in disapproval. "Here, get warm," she said to Emmet.
He did as he was told, his teeth chattering. The captain also took a moment to warm himself by the fire before taking the leaves to Dashiq. The dragon hadn't moved from where she hovered, and Emmet marveled at her ability to remain there, as if the planet did not covet her as it did everything else. The shark seemed to have moved on, the dragon more than it wanted to tangle with.
When the captain returned from ministering to Dashiq, he came at the closest thing to a run Emmet had seen from the man. He waved his hand side to side at the fire.
"Help me put this out," Tuck said in whisper.
Emmet was already kicking sand and rocks onto the well-established fire and the surrounding coals. Even covered, it would be impossible to hide the smoke and steam rising from it.
"We need to get ready to go," Tuck added. "I'm not sure what he saw, but I know it's not good."
Riette helped Tuck pack their supplies and ready the carriage. Dashiq winged her way to them a moment later, looking half asleep. Emmet wished she could have had more time to heal in the land's energy. He, too, wanted to stay and soak up the magic he'd longed for all his life. A deep sadness filled him upon realizing he might never experience it again. He was not well traveled or well educated, but he'd never heard tell of such a place before. He could only hope other such places existed or that he might find his way back again, but the captain and Tuck wanted nothing more than to leave. It was unfathomable.
Airship engines became audible, and the rest of the world intruded once again. "There!" someone shoute
d. "I told you I saw something."
Closer the airship came. It was Midlands construction, but that didn't mean it was under friendly control. In times of war, there were often enemies on both sides.
"You need to get out of here!" a man yelled from the airship. Riette appeared crestfallen, as if she'd expected to see Brick, searching for her. Dashiq looked up to the airship and issued a trumpeting call. The Zjhon didn't have dragons. This was something everyone knew. "The Zjhon are coming!"
"How?" Tuck shouted back. It was the obvious question since this place was well beyond the range of most aircraft.
"They've built floating cities," the man cried back. "Huge ships that act as runways. It's insane." The audacity of the plan left the group speechless. "A few of them sank. We picked up some survivors. They say the Zjhon have come here for some event. Something's supposed to happen." Giving truth to the man's words, a Zjhon warplane flew high overhead, most likely scouting the area. "Best of luck to you! We must warn the people. We barely have enough supplies for the trip, but we must tell them what we've seen. May the gods be with us!"
The airship wandered the winds back toward the Midlands, and Emmet wished them good luck. With Zjhon warplanes in the skies, it seemed unlikely. No matter how urgent their departure, there was no rushing the process of harnessing a dragon. Every strap and buckle existed for a reason, and even the order in which they were secured made a difference. Emmet did his best to help but was mostly in the way. The captain appeared to appreciate the effort, though, so the boy did his best to be useful.
Night had not yet fallen, and already streaks of light knifed through the sky. Larger and brighter than any in the previous nights, these were far more personal. Those so far away had been uncaring and aloof. These paid this world a special visit, and their presence would not soon be forgotten. The air sang with their energy and smelled of sulfur.
The last straps were secured and double-checked by lantern light; shadows grew long and deep. Distorted and frightening, voices carried across water and land alike, nebulous and indistinct at first but growing louder all the time. The silhouettes of balloons and airships filled the skies to the east, the sinking sun disappearing beneath the horizon to the west, providing a colorful backdrop behind the mountain.
Emmet followed Riette into the carriage and began strapping himself in. His sister watched with curiosity and concern. He could think of nothing he'd done to annoy her since reaching the shallows. Perhaps that was what concerned her. It was in itself unusual.
Tuck's sucking in a deep breath wasn't the only indication something was wrong. A long peal of thunder lingered in unnatural fashion and grew louder. A bright flash preceded an explosion, and multiple streaks of light bisected the evening sky. The aircraft in the distance were fully visible for a brief moment, the scale of the invasion force overwhelming, especially considering this place was largely uninhabited. Although, they did appear to be correct that something special was happening—something important.
Roaring like an angry dragon, the next bright light was larger and closer than those before. A wave of energy struck the ground, flattening foliage. Emmet worried for the saltbark trees but would perhaps have been better served to worry about his own safety. This streak of light arced low and struck the rocky soil somewhere between them and the mountain in the west. A towering cloud erupted from the impact site. Another struck the shallows an instant later, sending fine mist into the air above.
Lights sprang to life aboard the Zjhon air fleet, bathing the land below in rings of brightness, as if it were high noon but only in certain places. Emmet had never seen lights so bright. The pillars were fully illuminated, and in spite of seeming so permanent, one toppled over as he watched.
Tuck and the captain boarded after final checks, and Dashiq took to the air with greater ease than Emmet had seen from her yet. It made him feel good to know his efforts contributed to healing the dragon who had saved his life and likely would again.
Flying low over scrub-covered foothills, Dashiq took them closer to where the meteorite landed. A single Zjhon warplane flew in low and fired on them as it moved within range. Dashiq was nimble in her evasion. Soon the plane turned off to avoid the dust cloud still hanging in the air. Dirt and pulverized rock rained on them, pelting Emmet's face. Riette covered his nose and mouth with a kerchief, and he was grateful. No matter how much he annoyed her, she loved him—this he always knew.
Still glowing orange within a rapidly darkening outer shell, a melon-sized stone rested at the center of a crater. Pocked and swirled, it looked as if it had been crafted by time itself. It pulled at Emmet and sheared his thoughts, tugging at his perceptions like a deep, black hole. It felt like everything was happening at once. The captain emptied two thick leather bags and put one inside the other. Then he climbed down and used his cane to roll the stone into the bags, which sizzled and smoked in response. Dashiq pushed the captain back toward his seat and grabbed the bags with one claw. It all happened so quickly. Time continued to compress once again, burying Emmet beneath a mountain of information.
Voices cried out, weapons fired, planes flew past. Lights scoured the land. Airships drew closer, some towing two or even three balloons with lights of their own. They had been seen. The Zjhon were coming. Planes were coming. Only then, when the captain took a moment to lay a hand on him before taking his seat, did Emmet realize he had his hands over his ears and was rocking again. Riette whispered to him, telling him everything was going to be all right, but he knew it wouldn't. In the light of multiple airships was a creature not so different from Dashiq but much larger and having no wings.
"Sea serpent," Tuck whispered, his voice trembling. "I knew they could move on land, but I've never seen one come so far inland. He's a big boy."
"Scary," Emmet said before squeezing his eyes closed.