DAPHNE LOOKED UP AT THE dark sky in concern. The clouds had thickened since they'd left the Ruined City. It was only a matter of time before the rain began to fall. She seemed more than grateful when Tyler pulled the rope out long before it was necessary. Staying as close to Josef as possible, she made no qualms when the other three moved ahead to give them some sense of privacy.
Thunder reverberated around the Endless Chasm, echoing more than usual. Anwen navigated the path by having the rope pulled tautly on either side. She felt glad she could use the impending storm as reason for her trembling limbs. It was an easy excuse since no one wanted to be caught out in a torrential downpour.
They arrived back at the turnaround with the weathered picnic tables sooner than she'd expected. The rest of the journey back down was hard to remember. She'd fallen asleep on her feet, eyes open, but with everything else numb.
Despite hurrying them along, the rain had started as soon as they'd rejoined the more tunnel-like section of the path. The road look almost like a river as the group sat huddled under wet jackets held over their heads, their backs to the picnic tables.
Since they were all already wet, it hadn't even mattered that the little gully was now over a foot deep. Though there had been a moment or two when the current tried to sweep one of them off their feet.
Tyler called Mr. Miller to come get them, using a cell phone Anwen hadn’t realized he had. He had to duck to keep the device from getting wet as the rain increased in tempo. No one had thought to bring an umbrella or rain jacket.
The light had almost disappeared by the time Mr. Miller pulled up in his pickup truck. He insisted everyone sit in the back, holding tightly to the truck bed’s sides to keep from falling out. No one was allowed in the cabin this time around, on account of the water.
Anwen felt like her teeth had ground down to powder long before they returned to the village. She was perhaps the happiest to return. They were all shivering from the rain. Except for Tyler. He somehow managed to look cool in drenched clothing, not like the drowned rat Anwen felt she resembled.
With a somewhat hasty goodbye to her hiking companions, Anwen headed towards the inn. Before entering the lobby, she tried to squeeze off as much rain water from her hair and belongs as possible. Despite her efforts, a trail of drops followed behind her, staining the carpet as she headed to her room.
After about an hour of soaking in a tub of scalding hot water, Anwen finally began to feel warm again. Her skin looked almost as red as a cooked lobster’s shell when she was done. Despite being a bit wrinkled from the water, Anwen felt improved in spirit when she finally emerged.
Tyler had not told the others about her secret, though she couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t. She’d noticed him looking at her a lot during the drive back to the village, almost as if she were some kind of puzzle he had to figure out. It was not a comfortable sensation. But, in the confines of her room, his behavior was almost easy to dismiss.
Wrapped in a robe, Anwen looked into the mirror, the pendant hanging from her neck over the fabric. Even though she’d only been wearing it for two days, it felt like she’d had it forever. Somehow, it was not only a part of her past, but also a part of her being, her reason for living.
Running a comb through her damp hair, she couldn’t help but think back on the odd display from the vision dust.
Why had she seen dragons? Perhaps it had been a trick of the light, or a figment of her imagination. Maybe it was because she wanted to believe all the stories she’d heard from her childhood about this place. But they couldn't be true. Dragons didn’t exist. They were a fairytale best left on the bookshelf for someone else to read.
Anwen fell back against the bedding, causing the pillows to bounce. Why did it all matter anyway? Maybe this place was just getting to her.
Dragon Moon. Dragon Festival. Dragon Mountains. Dragon Village. Dragon Lake.
It was all just a cruel joke. But then why had Tyler been so insistent on finding out why she was there? Why was it so important to him who she really was and why she was hiding it?
Outside, the rain poured down on the roof. Lightning flashed across the sky as thunder rumbled around the small valley. With the overhead light off, the room took on a mysterious blue tone, deeper than midnight in the shadows. It was cobalt in the lighter parts, like the crystal held by her metal dragon.
Lightning streaked across the window, lighting the room with a white luminescence. The resulting crash of thunder boomed so loudly that it made the lamp shake on its small table.
Anwen jumped. “Just a storm,” she reminded herself, trying to turn her thoughts to other things.
The vision dust. What was it really? And why had it suddenly acted like some giant had stepped on it the moment Courtney had appeared? That was downright weird.
It was almost as if Tyler had some kind of ability to manipulate it. Or it didn’t want anyone else to see what it had shown her. She brushed off both ideas as being ridiculous.
Another flash of lightning filled the room, followed almost immediately by the loudest clash of thunder yet. It made her ears ring.
To block out all other thoughts, she tried to come up with another logical explanation for the afternoon's events. When she couldn't, she went over to the window and pulled the curtains shut.
The sound of rain pelting against the window was almost as menacing as the sensation of falling into the Endless Chasm.
Across the street, Courtney watched the inn, eyes intent on the upper floor. She wasn't sure which room Anwen was staying in, but that didn't matter.
Her nose wrinkled in disgust. The stupid foreigner just had to march right in and ruin her plans! She would make her pay, and pay some more for the sheer gall of interrupting her. And just when she was getting so close! Tyler would be hers, and no pretentious interloper would change that.
She held her umbrella against the storm. The lightning made it hard to wait for an opportunity to sneak across the street without having to worry about being hit. It wouldn't do to be struck by the electrical currents running rampant in the air. But she might have to risk it if she was going to find out anything else she could use against her nemesis.
Deeming the time right, she darted across the street, avoiding a pothole in the road. The water made the street a river, though that was nothing to her. It was easy to push the water aside, creating a slick-free path to her destination. She failed to notice the other shadow looming in the darkness.
Midnight. Anwen could tell from the twelve resounding gongs floating up the stairs as she stared up at the ceiling. Even with the curtains closed, light from the natural pyrotechnic show outside lit up her room. She shuddered with each crack of thunder.
The Consecrated Hall might not have brought out any actual memories earlier, but the storm certainly had.
They were memories she didn't want to remember. They were just too painful. But remember them she did, scenes from her past playing in front of her vacantly staring eyes.
It was another dark and stormy night, much like the one tonight. Anwen had been about ten. She and her father were out on a late night errand for her mother.
James Porter had insisted his daughter come along, though she hadn’t been sure of the reason at the time. It was just nice to go out and do something with him. It was something that didn't happen often.
They arrived at the store without incident. The rain sluiced over the car’s metal body as they sat in the parking lot, the engine idling.
Anwen wasn’t sure if her father was steeling himself for the dash across the almost deserted parking lot or if something else was going on. More of an introspective person, James looked unusually thoughtful that evening.
“Anwen, there’s something I need to tell you,” he said at last as he turned towards her. His expression didn't show the usual jovial quality, but one she wasn't familiar with.
She watched her father with concern as she sat in the front passenger seat. Her world had been one of happin
ess, with the occasional trial in the way, but nothing out of the ordinary. Despite that, she sensed there were more than just superficial concerns on her father’s mind. “Daddy, what’s wrong?”
James seemed unsure how to begin and remained quiet for almost a minute before breaking the silence once more.
“Anwen, there’s something I need you to do. You’re the only one who can.”
Anwen felt flattered by the idea. But his tone suggested whatever he had in mind was more important than just holding his hand or picking out a specific item in the store.
“Anything for you,” she whispered, caught up in his serious tone. And she would do anything for him. Though she was close with her mother, it was always her father who she went to for help and advice. For whatever reason, she’d always felt closer to him.
James closed his eyes for a brief moment, as if what he was about to ask would cause him pain. “Anwen, there is a place in the Drakonii Mountains that you need to find. It’s where our family came from, and it is there you must return.
"A long time ago, your many times great grandfather, Mathias, left those mountains. When he left, he took our entire family with him. He wasn’t given much choice and did so to save our future. Soon, you will go and claim the right and responsibility that comes from being a member of this family.”
Anwen stared at her father, not understanding what he was asking her to do. She’d heard the late night stories whispered when she was supposed to be asleep, of how her great grandfather, Mathias Porter, had been exiled from the mountains.
The stories had never explained why. No one had mentioned a responsibility or birthright associated with their family name. Until now. And the way her father was telling her about it was a little frightening, like his time was somehow short.
At a loss for words, Anwen just nodded.
“Your mother has a wooden box she'll give you on your sixteenth birthday. It contains a pendant that's been passed down our family line for generations. It's important that you don’t lose it.”
James paused a moment as a set of headlights swept across the parking lot. The lights disappeared as the car parked and a middle-aged woman made a dash for the main doors of the store. Sure the woman had gone inside; he turned back to his daughter.
“That pendant holds the key to your past and will help you when you go searching for it. But don’t ever show it to anyone. It’s important that you don’t let anyone know you have it or that it exists. Everything depends on it. Do you understand? No one can know anything about this.”
Anwen nodded, her eyes wide as her father took one of her tiny hands into his larger ones and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I promise.”
Satisfied, James let his daughter’s hand go so he could open the car door. Once outside, he dashed to get her door, opening the umbrella and handing it to her.
“Hurry or your mom will worry, okay?”
He gave her hand one more squeeze before starting across the parking lot. He purposely did not looking over his shoulder at a dark patch of shadow just past the last street light. He already knew what was there and what it meant.
Anwen’s short legs were unable to quite keep up with her father's longer ones as he ran across the stretch. It didn’t take long for her grasp to slip from his, leaving a growing gap between them as he sprinted towards the doors.
As James reached the sidewalk awning, only a few feet away from the door, a gunshot rang out over a bright flash of lightning. The sound was immediately followed by rolling thunder.
Everything began to move in slow motion as Anwen yelled for her father. Still several yards behind, she stopped as though held back by some unseen force.
She watched as James twisted in a strange manner, his body arching backwards before coming down with a loud thud on the ground. Blood seeped onto the pavement, only to be washed away by the rain.
Anwen still held the umbrella over her head as she screamed.
Thunder rumbled overhead like an ocean wave pelting at sand. Anwen shuddered under the bed covers, seeing her father’s lifeless body lying on the cold, wet cement.
The image was as fresh in her mind as if it had just happened, even though it had been almost eight years since then.
Tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes and she hugged one of the many pillows to her chest, turning to face the far wall, her back to the window. Sobbing like she had that night, Anwen finally fell asleep.
seven