Chapter 19 #2
I looked to Miles, only to catch his gaze in return. He looked just as confused as me.
“Regardless,” she said. “For them to go this far—to risk angering the fae with premature exposure—my son and his wife must care for you very much.”
“They—” My blood rushed through me, and my skin grew hot. My attention moved to my knees as I pressed my shaking hands against my thighs. “They never even hinted. We never talked about it.”
“Maybe not,” Kathleen replied. “They’ve always relied on gestures and spells.”
I bit my lip as I looked at her, but she was looking at the ceiling, deep in thought.
“I’d call them idealistic. When they were dating, and I had to chase them around that darn hippie festival, I often found them sleeping under the stars while most sensible people used the tents. They said it was a more ‘authentic’ experience.”
“E-excuse me?” I stammered, dragged from my thoughts. “Hippie festival?”
“Indeed,” Kathleen smiled. “Jonathon drove me mad with that and his fantasy games. That generation certainly has their quirks.”
I was intrigued yet skeptical. “Oh.” I paused, my mind trying to picture Jonathon and Abigail amidst a sea of tie-dye and peace signs. “I can’t really say. I don’t know them like that.”
“You haven’t met any of the other Paragons yet?” she asked, tilting her head to the side, her gaze shifting between Miles and me.
“No…” He looked sheepishly at the floor. “Jonathon is the only Er Bashou she knows—she hasn’t met Declan yet. She has met Trinity and Abigail, obviously.”
Kathleen narrowed her eyes. “I hope you’re prepared for that backlash. Jameson will not be pleased.”
“Damen says he can deal with Jameson,” Miles replied, his voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty as he swallowed hard.
“Okay,” she scoffed, laughed under her breath, and added, “I’m glad I’m not going to be around for that.”
Miles perked up, tension creeping into his posture. “What do you mean? You’re not coming back with us?”
“Goodness no,” Kathleen replied, her frown deepening as she waved a dismissive hand. “I haven’t the time.”
“What else do you have to do?” Miles asked.
“You have your prophecy to contend with,” she replied, her voice low and contemplative. As she spoke, the room seemed to grow still. “I have my dealings. It’s ironic that, in the end, fate has a way of catching up to us all.”
Damen POV
“It’s still following us.”
Julian trailed behind me, and his droll tones spoke heavily of boredom. I turned just as he threw another acorn, this one barely missing my face before it disappeared into the distance.
“Did you just try to hit me?” I asked, even though I was sure he wouldn’t resort to such things. It was an acorn , but what if it’d put out my eye?
Julian was quite adept at finding innocent things to use to inflict pain.
“Don’t be so sensitive.” He shrugged, catching another in the air. “I wouldn’t have missed if I tried. Did you hear what I said?”
“Yeah…” I replied.
We’d broken through the trees, and I glanced behind us.
We’d been tracked since we’d left the river where Bianca and Miles had disappeared, but the creature following us was loud and clumsy and didn’t feel like a threat.
Since our priority was locating our missing quintet members, we’d ignored it, hoping it’d go away.
But that didn’t appear to be the case.
Instead, it’d grown bolder the further we traveled. Before, it’d stop as we did—but now it drew ever closer.
“Why are you taking off your shirt?” Julian said suddenly, pulling my attention to the dragon.
Titus had dropped his backpack and grunted as he turned toward us. And, as Julian had said, he was in the process of shedding his clothes.
“I might need to shift,” he said, looking at us as if we were morons. “This is the last shirt I have.”
But we weren’t the ones not making any sense.
“So what?” Could he be losing his mind because of Bianca’s absence? But no, he’d also acted like this earlier—when he shifted with Bianca nearby. Why, though? In the past, he didn’t care about destroying whatever he wore.
“Because it scares her,” he replied, pulling off the plaid. “And, also, Bianca likes this shirt.” He folded it, and his green eyes showed an almost reverent gleam as he spoke, “I need to take care of it.”
“No, she doesn’t,” I told him. Why in the world would she like that thing? “You look like a nerd.”
Titus growled, and a dark look entered his eyes. “Trust me, she likes it,” he purred as he set the shirt on top of his backpack.
“You’re ridiculous.” Julian crossed his arms. “Bianca has far more refined tastes.”
“I know what I know,” Titus said. “We need to be ready to fight.”
“What makes you think she likes it?” I raised my eyebrow. There was no reason to be concerned about our stalker. After all—we had a real dragon with us. Nothing in the world could beat us, not even if our foe were the presumed Snallygaster.
It was unlikely to be the same beast, but Bianca’s worries had gotten it stuck in my head.
“It’s none of your business.” Titus straightened and held up his hand. “It’s coming—”
“Wait just a minute!” How dare he change the subject. “Tell me—”
He growled again; this time, the sound radiated from deep within his chest as his gaze moved past us. I sighed.
I wasn’t finished with this conversation, but it seemed our follower was done keeping its distance. The sounds of its lumbering flailing had grown exponentially louder.
Julian moved behind me; his back pressed against my own. He threw open his arms, two obsidian blades in his hands. These were his go-to weapons, wielded throughout his many lifetimes. I had no idea where he hid those things between our lives—he didn’t have the same abilities as Bianca and me.
Yet somehow, he always managed to find them.
“Seriously?” I asked. Why did he have to bring them camping ?
“Mind your business,” he challenged. “We can’t all summon our weapons from other realms.”
I nodded, as that was a fair point, and furrowed my brow in concentration. I imagined the solid, lightweight of my kilij, and not even a moment later, I felt the hilt’s smooth leather firmly in my grip.
It’d given up all pretenses of secrecy, stomping through the forest and causing the treetops to shake.
Titus remained unmoved while Julian tensed. And I had to admit, my ears perked, and my heartbeat accelerated in the excitement—it had been lifetimes since we’d had a challenging battle or a chance to fight any beast.
The more interesting creatures died out a long time ago.
“This isn’t a game,” Julian hissed at me. “Titus looks worried.”
The dragon’s aura had pulled in tightly around him, and his stance was braced. So, it was dangerous, after all.
I couldn’t help but smile. Perfect .
It had been a stressful few weeks, and I needed something to kill.
The noise grew louder. It was almost upon us, so close that we could almost see it. A dark shape moved behind the shadows of the forest.
“What the hell is it?” Julian asked.
I had no answer because, like Julian, I also couldn’t tell. Titus, though, had deepened into his defensive position. He saw something we couldn’t.
“Titus, what?” I asked, holding my weapon ready. I hadn’t seen him this disturbed in ages. “Don’t tell me it’s actually a dragon.”
I was half-joking because despite what the local legends might say, there was no way—
“Yes,” was his short reply. “Sort of.”
I blinked at him, dropping out of my stance.
“What the fuck does that mean?” I asked. “Either it’s a dragon, or it’s not. How can you not tell?”
Titus had no chance to elaborate because the object of his attention—something both reptilian and strange—had taken that moment to tear its way through the trees. It uncurled its furiously imposing form.
He was right. It was a dragon. Kind of…
The sage-green creature was as large as Titus’s dragon form, almost as imposing. It was honestly the strangest thing—having the body of a brachiosaurus—with a much shorter neck—and proportionally tiny wings. There was something off about its gait, too.
It didn’t look like any dragon I’d ever seen.
In fact, it was a little bit sad to watch. It stumbled forward as it crossed into the clearing, trying to balance on four uneven legs and too-long claws that appeared to catch on the ground beneath it.
As it drew near, its features became more apparent. While a traditional dragon had a snout and powerful jaws, this creature had a bright orange, duck-like beak.
It was the most bizarre thing I’d ever encountered.
“What’s wrong with it?” Julian tilted his head, straightening to his full height as he lowered his guard. Now that it was here, our wariness and caution had dissipated.
I, too, wondered the same thing.
This thing —the Snallygaster—had one eye. However, that wasn’t unusual, considering some of the things we’d seen. Yet, the orb was large—primarily white—with no visible eyelid, and it was focused on us, unblinking, in the most unnerving manner.
It almost seemed angry and a little bit afraid, as if it was defending something. My theory was further validated as the creature moved into a defensive position, rising onto its hind legs and letting out a tremendous roar.
But now that it was here, the sound was no longer threatening.
“It’s a googly eye!” Julian remarked, stepping forward. “Do you suppose it can see?”
“Why are you looking at it like that?” I frowned at him. “Are you planning on dissecting it?”
Julian didn’t answer, but his mouth quirked.
Yes, that was what he wanted. Go figure.
It roared again, flailing its long claws in front of him. Anyone else, I suppose, might have been scared.
But we had an actual dragon on our side. So…
“Don’t kill it,” I ordered. It was such an ugly thing—I felt bad for it. Pity stirred in me, and my chest warmed with newfound purpose.
It needed help. My help.
What if it could be tamed? It might make a decent pet.
With one of these around, nobody would dare trespass on my lawn again.
“I know that look.” Julian pulled up his sword, pointing it at the beast while it postured in front of us. “We are not bringing this thing home with us.”
“It’s kind of cute.” Why couldn’t he see it? Its appeal grew the longer you looked.
“It’s far from cute,” Julian replied. “Besides, we already have a dragon.”
“It’s my house. And besides, maybe Titus wants it too.” I turned to the man in question. He’d been strangely quiet this whole conversation. “Hey, Titus—”
Titus jumped past us, his teeth bared and his movements swift. He brandished his ax and rushed toward the beast. Before either of us could move, the dragon had confronted the creature, twisting with his hair fanning around him, and lopped off the Snallygaster’s head.
I frowned at the sloppy sight, and my heart sank in disappointment. Poor thing, it’d been too weak even to fight back. Titus had all but murdered it.
Thick, slimy blood splattered across the dirt, staining the mud and grass a neon green. The thing’s head rolled across the ground and its beak fell open, revealing its snake-like tongue.
“That was uncalled for,” I said. Disappointment had dimmed my mood; I’d already been thinking of where it might live—right outside Bryce’s window.
My plan was ruined before it could even come to fruition.
“Why did you have to kill the dragon?” I asked.
Titus turned his dark gaze on me as he wiped his guck-covered ax against his pants. “Don’t call it a dragon.”
“You said it first!” What else was I supposed to call it? I wasn’t about to start saying, ‘Snallygaster.’ The word wasn’t one to roll off the tongue seriously.
“I was in shock,” Titus said calmly. “There’s no way it can be a dragon.”
“Yes, we know.” Julian rolled his eyes. “There’s only one.”
Titus opened his mouth, but before he could speak, the Snallygaster leaped back to his feet, a new head shooting out from where he’d been wounded, and jumped to Titus, swallowing the man in one swift movement.
I screamed—any normal person would have—and Julian jumped into defense.
“ What the fuck was that! ?” I asked, pointing my sword at the sight.
Julian barely spared me a glance. “You scream like a girl.”
“Shut the fuck up, Julian.” How dare it eat my friend! My pulse roared, and the hot need for vengeance raged through me. “He ate Titus.”
Julian shrugged. “He’ll be fine.”
In response, the beast leaned back, opening his beak in a roar. This time, its snake-like tongue—or tongues rather, because there were at least twelve—were visible, slithering and twisting through the air.
This was the perfect opportunity to attack. I stepped back, ready to enact my revenge.
But Julian stopped me, grasping my elbow. “Just wait.”
My breathing labored, my heart beating in my throat. “What—”
The Snallygaster’s scream abruptly ended, and an instant later, this regrown head had fallen to the ground, joining the first.
Its eye seemed to be trained on me, even in death.
Titus stepped out of the creature’s—once again—fallen form, grumbling as he kicked off his ruined pants.
Oh, good. Titus was alive. I always believed in him; he was very resourceful.
“Need any help?” Julian asked him, making no move to assist.
“Just how long were you going to wait?” Titus grumbled, attempting to wipe the sticky-looking blood from his bare torso.
“You had it under control.” The necromancer waved his hand dismissively.
I glanced at Julian. My hot anger began to fade even as my attention remained mainly on the fallen creature.
“You’re much nicer when Bianca’s around,” I told him. “Sometimes I forget how much of an asshole you are.”
“I noticed that too.” Titus didn’t even look up.
Julian’s features were carefully blank. “You curse more when she’s gone,” was his only rebuttal.
I pursed my lips. He wasn’t wrong.
The Snallygaster hadn’t come back to life again, so maybe it was a fluke—
Just as the thought crossed my mind, one of the giant legs twitched.
Motherfucker.
I glanced at the dragon. “Titus?” We didn’t have time for this. Bianca and Miles were still missing.
“Maybe it needs some time to recuperate.” Titus kicked at the head, and the creature stopped twitching.
“It’s not a normal creature. I don’t even think it’s alive.
There’s witchcraft all over that. Let’s get out of here and distance ourselves before it wakes again.
” Julian had already put away his weapons and stepped past us.
“If the only way to keep moving on is to chop off its head continuously, then we have no choice but to move while we have a chance.”
“Right.” That was a perfectly sane plan, and Titus could use the exercise. Hell, if this search was frustrating enough, and there was a high possibility it would be, I might even get a few hits in.
There was nothing better to help with stress than a good fight.