“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.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
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 ent
er 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.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Emmy watched from inside her egg as her mother, Lyria, paced the low-ceiling cave, her muscular legs making short work of the distance between the walls. It was nice to finally be able to see her mother—really see her at last—through the haze of her growing-translucent shell. Before today, Emmy had only been able to hear her mother’s low growls and comforting snorts and had to imagine what she must look like on the outside. Now she realized she could have never envisioned how beautiful her mother really was, how noble and regal she could be. With emerald-green scales and massive, golden wings, she looked like an angel sent from the Nether. Emmy stole a glance down at her own pitiful flaps and wondered if she’d ever have anything so grand.
The temperature had dropped and snow swirled madly outside the shallow cave, which had been cut into the side of a steep cliff. Lyria had landed here the week before, the encroaching storm preventing her from reaching safer ground further south, where the other mothers had gone to lay their eggs. Now they were stuck here until the eggs hatched and the baby dragons could spread their wings and fly. A fact Emmy knew made her mother increasingly nervous.
She also knew her brother wasn’t far from hatching; he’d been pecking at his shell all night long. She’d tried to work on hers as well, but her shell seemed so thick, so unyielding to her soft snout, and she was getting a little worried. She’d tried calling out to her mother, to beg for some help, but the elder dragon seemed not to hear her. Emmy narrowed her eyes and tried again. She couldn’t give up—no matter what.
A loud cracking broke through the silence and Emmy turned just in time to see her brother poking his snout from his golden shell. Their mother approached, snorting in excitement, nudging the shell with her nose, widening the crack. A moment later, a tiny, red head poked out from the egg, followed by a gangly body, tripping out of his shell and onto the cave floor. A ruby dragon! The rarest of all. Emmy’s mother tossed her head in pride. The other mothers would be filled with envy at such a living treasure.
Emmy watched as her baby brother took a few awkward steps, then worked to spread his fledgling wings. They looked so fragile but at the same time so strong. A moment later, he tripped over the left wing, falling flat on his face. He scowled, shaking his tiny head, puffing smoke from his snout. But Emmy’s mother only laughed, giving him a long, wet slurp from her massive tongue.
What about me? Emmy pleaded as she tried once again to poke through her unyielding shell. The storm outside was getting worse. They had to leave soon or be trapped here forever, buried in a ton of ice. But try as she might, she couldn’t break free.
Help me, Mama! I need your help!
But her mother was too busy with her brother—the precious ruby—to hear her call. And Emmy was beginning to despair. She knew what happened to dragons who couldn’t break out of their shells. They returned to the Nether. Forever. Emmy liked the Nether. It was fun to play there. But it was also lonely. Her family was here.
Outside, the lightning danced across the sky, followed by a crack of thunder. The cave shook, stalactites crumbling from the ceiling. Emmy’s brother squawked in fear as a rocky spike came crashing down only inches from where he’d stood. Lyria quickly scooped him up with her paw, pulling him protectively against her massive chest. She seemed to hesitate for a moment, then stepped toward the edge of the cave.
Emmy’s heart stuttered. What was she doing? She watched in terror as her mother inched closer to the edge, still holding her brother under her arm. Once she’d reached the precipice, she paused, then turned back to the unhatched egg, indecision warring on her face.
No! Emmy cried, realizing what her mother was contemplating. Don’t leave me, Mama! Please don’t leave me here alone!
But her mother didn’t answer. Instead, she turned away, unfurling her massive wings and gliding off the edge of the cliff, her precious ruby son cradled protectively in her arms. Emmy watched as they soared off into the distance until they had disappeared from view. A lone tear slipped down her snout. She knew in her heart they were not coming back.
And she would be alone forever.
***
“Emmy!”
Trinity opened her eyes, heart wrenching and tears coursing down her cheeks. She was back in the birthing chamber, back with the Dracken, still clutching the egg with both hands. Her body was shaking uncontrollably and she was drenched in sweat, but she paid it no mind, looking down at her dragon, r
eliving her pain, feeling her fear. Finally she understood. In fact, she understood perfectly.
Oh, Emmy…I’m so sorry.
No wonder the dragon was so hesitant to enter the world. The world had left her behind. Everyone she knew was dead. Had been dead for millions of years. They’d abandoned her, sacrificed her to save themselves—left her all alone.
My mother left me too, she told Emmy. I trusted her and she let me down. Left me behind without even saying good-bye. She stroked the shell with gentle fingers. I promised myself I’d never trust anyone again after that day—until I met you.
The dragon stirred from inside the shell, swimming around in a hazy black shadow. Trin dug her fingers into the crack, trying to widen it as she’d seen Emmy’s mother do.
You flew me through the skies. You took away my fears. You told me you’d never let me fall. She drew in a breath. Well, Emmy, I’ll never let you fall either. You can trust in that. You can trust in me. As you told me, we are destined…
She closed her eyes, the exhaustion overwhelming her at last. There was nothing else she could do. Nothing else she could say. She only hoped Emmy could hear her. That she believed what she’d said and—
“The egg! It’s cracking!”
Trinity looked down at the egg. Sure enough, it had cracked wide open, all the way down each side. She watched, not daring to move, as a tiny, birdlike head popped out from the now broken shell, bobbing up and down on a wobbly neck. The dragon regarded her with large, serious blue eyes rimmed in gold—eyes she would recognize anywhere.
“Emmy!”
The dragon let out a triumphant squawk, tiny wisps of smoke puffing from her snout. The room exploded in applause, everyone rushing to witness the miracle for themselves. But Trin held up a hand, forcing them back. To give her baby dragon space to breathe. To protect Emmy as she’d promised she would.
She was the Fire Kissed, after all.