Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Aboard Drago’s Airship:
The Oceans of the Seven Kingdoms
The wind rushed past in cool, steady gusts as the airship soared high above the glittering sea.
Sails the color of storm clouds billowed overhead, shimmering with elemental magic that caught the light and scattered it like droplets across the deck.
The hull beneath them creaked gently, the steady hum of enchanted gears deep in its belly giving the airship a heartbeat of its own.
Phoenix sat near the bow, her knees pulled up with her arms wrapped loosely around them.
Her black hair whipped around her shoulders.
The strands caught in the breeze as she stared out over the vast ocean of the Seven Kingdoms. The water below glittered like a sheet of glass broken into pieces of sapphire and silver.
It was beautiful—untouched and endless.
And it was the longest moment of quiet she’d had since the portal shattered.
Zohar was stretched out beside her on his back, one arm flung over his eyes, the other tracing lazy spirals through the air as if he were the conductor of an orchestra.
Alice perched on the opposite side of the bow, her chin resting on her knees, golden energy occasionally flickering along her fingers.
Adaline was cross-legged beside her, her dark brown hair braided into a crown and threaded with wildflowers from the Isle of the Elementals.
Bálint leaned against the crown of the ship, watching the horizon, arms folded—but his eyes occasionally flicked to Phoenix with quiet worry.
It was Alice who broke the silence.
“Are you doing okay?” she asked softly.
Phoenix blinked, then turned to face her. The warm breeze tugged gently at her hair and sleeves, as if urging her to speak.
She offered a small smile. “Yeah. I’m okay.”
She paused, then added, “I’m still worried about the others. But finding you all… it’s helped. A lot. I can’t tell you how scared I was at first that I… that I might never see any of you again.”
Alice nodded, her expression tender and knowing.
Phoenix hesitated, her eyes changing color with her emotions.
She looked down at the deck, then slowly said, “I felt guilty. About the portal failing. About us getting separated. I thought… maybe it was my fault. That I wasn’t strong enough.
Or focused enough. If I’d just done something better… we’d all be together.”
Zohar shifted and peeked at her through one eye. “Phoenix…”
She shook her head. “I know. I know it wasn’t really my fault. But the guilt was still there. And then—when we started finding each other—I realized something.”
She looked up again, her gaze drifting toward the clouds ahead.
“I realized that maybe… things turned out the way they were supposed to.”
The breeze stilled for a moment, as if the ship itself was holding its breath.
Bálint tilted his head, his brows drawn together as he contemplated what she was saying. “What do you mean?”
Phoenix turned, facing them fully now. Her voice, soft but steady, carried a quiet strength.
“When I landed on the Isle of the Dragons… Drago’s parents took me to the ruins of Arkla.
There was a carving. Of a dragon with phoenix wings—just like me.
Drago’s mom is the same as me.” She hesitated, then added, “She—she’s called a Guardian Protector. ”
Alice straightened. “A Guardian Protector? What’s that?”
Phoenix lifted her hands, her expression changing to excitement. “There are only a few of us. We are created by the Goddesses to travel across worlds… to keep balance. A protector of all the realms, not just one.”
Adaline’s eyes widened. “You’re saying… you’re one of them?”
Phoenix looked out at the sea again, her arms dropping to her sides, her fingers catching the wind like she could grasp the truth she was still learning to hold.
“I am.”
Silence fell.
Not out of disbelief—but reverence.
Even Zohar sat up, his fingers curling in a fist as he studied her face—her expression.
Phoenix smiled faintly, her eyes shining—not with tears, but with something deeper. An internal knowledge older than time.
“It means,” she murmured, “that one day… I’ll have to leave.”
Her voice didn’t break—but the ache behind it was sharp, undeniable.
She turned back toward them then; her face radiant in the golden light, the shadow of that truth wrapped in a quiet peace. The wind played gently through her hair, lifting it like black silk in the sunlight.
The others didn’t speak.
They couldn’t.
Because the look in her eyes held them still—powerful, ancient, and impossibly young. A girl who had crossed oceans of stars… and had only just begun.
She gave them a crooked smile before adding softly, “But not yet.”
Her voice warmed, her smile blooming like sunrise. “I still have a lot to learn before I’m ready. And I’m going to need you all. Every single one of you.”
She looked at each of them—Alice’s steady wisdom, Bálint’s quiet strength, Adaline’s fierce heart, and Zohar’s loyalty flaring as bright as fire.
They were more than friends. They always had been, and she realized that her true power came from having them in her life.
Alice swallowed, her throat bobbing. “You’ll have us.”
“Always,” Bálint said, sliding forward and resting a hand on her shoulder.
“Even if we have to fly to the ends of the galaxy,” Adaline whispered, blinking back tears.
Zohar grinned. “I mean, I was planning to do something awesome with my life, but helping a Guardian Protector save the realms works too. Dad can handle all the boring diplomatic crap for a few more centuries.”
Laughter broke the tension like sunlight through clouds.
Phoenix’s heart swelled, fear loosening its grip on her chest. For the first time in days, the wind didn’t feel like it was carrying her away—it felt like it was lifting her. Guiding her.
Above them, the sails shifted, catching a stronger current as the airship tilted gently toward the horizon.
Toward the Isle of the Giants.
To find more of the Dragonlings.
Phoenix looked ahead again, her friends around her, her destiny still waiting.
The wind screamed past Spring’s wings as she flew low over the towering trees, her dragon eyes narrowed and sharp, scanning every inch of the mossy ground below.
Her heart pounded like war drums in her chest, each beat echoing the worry that had been gnawing at her ever since she’d left Roam behind.
Please be okay. Please be okay.
Even matching the size of the Giants, the Isle of the Giants felt too big. Too dangerous. Madura’s gentle words had soothed her fears for a time, but now that she was racing back through the forest, the size of it all felt crushing. If anything had happened to him…
There!
Movement flashed in the corner of her vision.
She banked hard to the right, her wings slicing through the air—and her blood ran cold.
Roam.
On the ground.
He was backed against a twisted root the size of a tree trunk on Valdier, wielding a twig like a sword and swinging wildly at three alien birds that looked like crossbreeds between finches and woodpeckers.
They were glossy, sleek, and utterly vicious with their spear-like beaks.
They were small—but Roam was smaller. Their pointed beaks flashed as they lunged at him.
Their feathers shimmered with iridescent menace as they flapped their wings at him, stirring up ground debris.
One of them caught the edge of his shoulder, knocking him flat on his back.
Spring roared.
The sound tore from her throat, pure and primal, echoing through the canopy.
The birds shrieked and scattered, startled by the white-scaled fury hurtling toward them from the sky.
She didn’t slow. With one powerful beat of her wings, she sent a gust of wind gushing downward, scattering feathers like confetti.
She landed hard several feet away; the moss shuddered under her weight. She shifted and dropped to her knees near the root.
“Roam!” she cried, her voice tight with panic.
He groaned and sat up slowly, blinking. “What the—Spring?”
Spring leaned over him, her golden brown eyes wide with concern.
“Are you okay? Did they hurt you?” she whispered, her voice trembling.
“Did they—did they hurt me?” he croaked incredulously.
Before he could finish, she gently curled her hands around him, scooping him up as if he were a broken treasure. He yelped in surprise, flailing before flopping backward into her palm with a disgruntled thud.
“Seriously?! Do you have any idea how humiliating this is for a cat-shifter? We eat birds! And always land on our feet!!” he snapped, flushing to the root of his white hair.
She leaned in closer, frowning. A thin trail of blood traced down the side of his cheek, and her breath caught.
“You’re bleeding,” she murmured, her voice filled with dismay.
He sat up fast, glaring at her with wide, indignant eyes. “Do you have any idea how long you’ve been gone?!”
Spring froze.
“I’ve been attacked by a giant snail, a pack of angry leaf-lizards, and now demon chickens from the ninth level of space hell!
” he shouted, rising awkwardly to his feet to pace across her palm like it was a stage.
“You just left! Didn’t even say, ‘Hey Roam, back in a tick to prevent your untimely death by oversized alien poultry!’”
She stared at him in shock.
“I was worried sick about you!” he snapped. “I’m supposed to be protecting you, not the other way around! How am I supposed to do that if you’re not here?! Where did you go?!”
He stopped, his chest heaving, and his tiny hands balled into fists.
Then, his gaze flicked over her fully for the first time.
“…Wait. How are you normal-sized again?”
Spring, still stunned into silence, gently lowered her hands to the moss. She opened her palms so he could step down. “Madura helped me. She gave me this.”
She reached into the pouch at her hip and pulled out a shimmering sliver of the mushroom. “It’s from her garden. A bite will reverse the spell. But you have to be careful how much—”
Roam had already snatched a piece and shoved it into his mouth.
“Roam, wait—!”
Too late.
The magic took hold instantly.
He blinked, stumbled—and began to grow.
Spring scrambled backward and stood as Roam grew taller and broader until he stood before her at full size, his wild blue eyes now looking down at her. She hadn’t realized just how much he’d grown in the past year!
She opened her mouth to warn him not to take any more—when he grabbed her shoulders.
She gasped, startled—but then his mouth crushed against hers.
It wasn’t careful.
It wasn’t gentle.
It was heat, and desperation, and fear, and relief, all wrapped in the tremble of lips that might never have had the chance to find hers if things had gone terribly wrong.
Spring froze.
Then melted against him.
Her hands slid up his arms, gripping the edges of his shirt, grounding herself as his kiss deepened. His fingers flexed against her shoulders like he didn’t know how to let go.
When he finally pulled back, they were both breathing hard.
Spring’s eyes were wide, stunned. “Roam…?”
He didn’t move. Just stared at her, fierce and uncertain all at once.
“I thought I’d lost you,” he said quietly.
A soft breath escaped her. “I came back.”
His lips twitched. “Just in the nick of time.”
She punched him lightly in the arm. “Next time, you can be the one stuck in a glass jar.”
His smile wavered and grew serious. “I hope there won’t be a next time. I… I don’t like the thought of you being in danger.”
Spring’s breath caught as he pulled her forward again, slower this time. This time, his kiss was tender, searching. Inside her, Spring felt her dragon’s rumble of approval while the echo of Roam’s cat purring made her tremble.