Redeeming the Dragon (Into the Enchanted)

Chapter 22

W e were still up talking by the time dawn broke over the sea. My sisters announced they could keep their eyes open no longer. Father said he might as well go down to the docks and begin the day—there would be no rest for him that night. He was so happy to have me home that he needed none. Before going to my room, I stepped out onto the porch to watch the sun rise over the waves.

Mama followed me.

The wind chimes, stirred by the breeze’s invisible fingers, tinkled.

The dragon’s warnings chimed in my mind.

Don’t be alone with your mother.

“Father will be out here soon,” Mama said. She stood next to me, clutching a light wrap about her shoulders. “He is getting on his boots.”

Relief coursed through me. How much damage could she do in the few minutes it would take my father to ready himself for the day’s work and come outside ?

To stave off any uncomfortable topics, I said, with my gaze latched onto the horizon, “I have missed this sight.”

“I cannot imagine how difficult it would be to go from living on our island, accustomed to the sand, the sea, and the sun, to dwelling in a gloomy cave,” Mama agreed.

“Yes.” The dragon had been kind enough to provide me the mirror, a wee glimpse of home, but there was nothing like being here.

Through the open door behind us, I heard Father stirring. When he ventured outside, I planned to bid him goodbye and head to bed. I believed I was safe, but then my mother said,

“What sort of creature visits your room, Lorna? Is that all that he does, or do you keep secrets from your family?”

I froze. Had the dragon’s prophecy come true already? Mama had wasted no time in trying to pry information from me.

“Mama,” I said, easing a step away and half-turning as if to retreat inside. “I am very weary. I would like to go to bed as soon as Father leaves.”

“You would rather sleep than tell your mother the truth?”

The authority in her voice, which I’d known and responded to since childhood, bade me meet her eyes. Reluctantly.

“Mama, I’ve—I’ve told you the truth,” I faltered. “I really must—”

“Lorna.” Mama reached out, catching my hand. I had no heart to fight her for it; no heart to fight her at all. Not today. Not when I’d just returned. “Lorna, you must tell me. Tell me once, and we’ll never speak of it again. Does this man…”

She stopped. I saw pain on her face.

“Does this man, who shapeshifts into a dragon, does he…harm you? You said he visited your room, but is that all he does? Does he…touch you? Lorna, you can tell your mother.”

“Mama, no!” I pulled against her grip and she released me .

“Please, Lorna,” she said, clasping her fingers in supplication. “You can tell your mother. You can tell me anything.”

Some things I could not tell her. I couldn’t tell her the dragon had strictly forbidden me to speak with her alone. Father was coming anyway, saving me from breaking those rules any further.

Backing towards the door, I said, “I swear to you, Mama, he has not violated or harmed me. He visits my rooms at night. He sleeps. Sometimes we talk. But he has not dishonored me. I vow it.”

Relief, coupled with disbelief, crumpled her face. “Then why does he keep you there?” she begged. “That makes no sense.”

“I don’t know,” I replied, almost in a whisper. “I truly don’t, Mama. I wish I did. All I can tell you is what he says—I am his mate, and there is a magical bond between us.”

“Mate?” My mother’s facial features twitched as if she attempted to stave off outright horror. “What does that mean? What does that entail? Is that how he senses you? Why did you not mention this earlier?”

“I don’t… I don’t know.” I hung my head as if in shame.

Truthfully? I’d hoped earlier to keep her off my back by withholding information. Seeing this plan wasn’t working, I’d decided to switch tactics. If I offered her a tidbit of new information, might she ruminate on that instead of the dragon’s nocturnal visits?

“Is it some form of witchcraft?” asked Father, who had stepped out onto the porch behind me. I shot him a grateful look. Grateful, because I knew Mama would not press me on sensitive issues in front of him.

“I don’t know, Father. Truly, I don’t.”

Father glanced at Mama. Mama still gazed, dismayed, at me.

“Avigale,” he said quietly, “Enough. She’s told us what she can. Let her sleep. ”

It was a tone he didn’t use often in our family. A tone that he used as a chieftain, a ship’s captain. A tone of authority that meant the matter was finished. I could not help my soft sigh of relief.

Father drew me into his side, dropping a kiss on the top of my head.

“Your mother and I are very glad you are home, lass,” he said. “Go to your old room. Get some sleep. Your mother and you can speak after you’ve rested.”

Casting a glance over my shoulder at Mama, I practically ran from the porch and into my bedchamber, shutting the door firmly behind me. I’d never been so grateful for my father’s interference. However, as I undressed and changed into my sleeping clothes, still in my room from my life before, I reckoned with the fact that my mother would not give up. I must be on my guard against her, or else disobey the dragon’s commands. Why disobeying the dragon filled me with such anxiety, I couldn’t say.

I searched my soul as I lay down. The idea filled me with doom. Heed his orders, and all would go well. Disobey?

Disaster. I knew it as surely as I knew my own name.