Chapter Twelve #3
“A bond so powerful will only lead to her heartbreak.”
My frown deepens and I ache at the thread of grief in Atlanta’s words. As though the idea is close to her heart.
“I know how incredible their potential is, Atlanta. Even though you may think so, I’ve not forgotten the allure of a strong bond.” His pause feels poignant. “But she is strong. She will do what we need of her.”
I hear a long, frustrated sigh and I imagine Atlanta’s face turning away from his, her curls bouncing. I wish I could see their expressions. “And after?”
“And after, her ties will remain firm here. She will be cared for,” he says, reassuring, then his voice pitches low and my ears strain to make out the words. “I’ll make sure of it.”
A quiet longing fills Atlanta’s single-worded plea. “Ozias…”
Leaning my body past the threshold, I strain to hear. Atlanta hesitates in whatever she was going to say, or else she says it so low I cannot hear it.
“Unless there’s a reason I shouldn’t?” he asks. I hear the scuff of movement. “Tell me. Even if it’s to tell me of your distaste for it.”
I bite the knuckle of my thumb. Distaste? Distaste for what?
“And if I did tell you?”
This time, Ozias’s answer comes immediately. “Then I will find another way. Tell me, and I will find another way.”
There’s another lengthy pause. I put my hand over my mouth as I exhale slowly, waiting for Atlanta to speak, trying to decipher precisely what they mean.
“You like her.” It’s a statement, spoken so plainly I cannot begin to guess what she thinks.
There’s another pause. “I do. She’s strong and beautiful. Interesting and bold. And…you know why.” My heart swells a bit hearing his words, even as my steady pulse trips over the mystery of what he could be referring to.
When Atlanta says nothing, a deep, suffering sigh escapes from Ozias. It sounds like the way I feel when I come up empty handed after a long hunt.
“You’re certain, then?” he asks, soft, and tender. There’s a long pause, then, harsher, I hear him say, “I won’t ask again.” Again, there’s nothing for a long, long while. Finally, Ozias speaks. “Then there’s nothing more to discuss on this.”
“No. No, I suppose there’s not.” She sounds…frustrated. Tired. “I should retrieve her.”
I don’t wait to hear more. I turn back the way I came, going quickly and silently until I reach the room and let myself back in.
For Ninon, I’ve put my trust in Atlanta and Ozias.
For myself, I’m working with them to connect with my dragon.
And for my people, I’ve agreed to attempt the impossible task they’ve given me.
I’ve been agreeable, at least to an extent, to everything, and yet overhearing them bothers me.
Do they think I’ll return to Dyēus and reveal their plans in hopes the Sar Dyēus will reverse the curse on me?
Although, I suppose that is an option. I could reunite with my sister, reclaim my old life.
But, is that even what I want, after all I know?
After having experienced the full extent of who and what I am?
What would it be like, to deny being a draconem, to push myself back down into the depths of my consciousness once more?
I imagine it and feel the crushing weight sink low in my stomach.
Hidden and hurting, wanting to claw its way back of out me.
I don’t register the approaching footsteps and I gasp at the tentative knock on the door. I swallow and let out a long, steadying breath. “Come in.”
The door opens and Atlanta glances around, a puzzled expression crossing her face. “I wasn’t sure you’d be in here.”
I pull my hair over my shoulder as my pulse picks up speed. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I didn’t…never mind.”
“You didn’t what?” I implore, feeling the need to gain information I can after overhearing her and Ozias.
She shakes her head and enters the room. “This will sound strange, but I didn’t sense you. Since your first night here, your energy has been very clear. Right before I knocked though, I couldn’t feel you.”
“Oh,” I blink, then stand. “And do you now?”
“As clear as ever.” Atlanta shrugs. “I was a little in my own head before I knocked. I’m sure that’s why I didn’t sense you. There’s nothing to concern ourselves over.”
I give her a pleasant smile, despite how distraught I am. “If you think so.”
“Right, well, unfortunately it’s that time,” she says, gesturing to the fading light beyond the window.
I make my way towards her, determined to do as I’m told, to make them trust me.
After what I overheard, I can’t let them know my dream about the Sar Dyēus.
We don’t have that kind of time to waste.
Not with the increasing deaths. Not with how weak Ninon seems. “Ozias said I passed the stage of savagery. Am I still to be chained?”
“Oh, sorry, no.” Atlanta shakes her head and comes to me. “I didn’t mean to imply that. I simply meant you will shift. And well,” she looks around, “this space isn’t particularly conducive for that.”
Following her gaze, it’s obvious of course that the room wasn’t built for dragon forms. “Ah, right. So then where will I go?”
Atlanta pushes her hair off her shoulder. “Where would you like to go?” she asks as we make our way to the atrium and down out of the Alcazar. “We have the field. That’s where most of us go, but there are other more secluded spots around the Realm.”
I didn’t realize I’d have a choice in the matter. Working my lower lip with my teeth I ask, “Where will Ninon be?”
Atlanta’s mouth purses. “She’s still working past the savagery. She’ll be chained again.”
“I want to be near her.”
“Back at the enclosures?”
I nod, then suppress a shudder that works its way down my spine. “Not chained, but I don’t want to leave her alone.”
Atlanta sighs, thinking it over. “I wouldn’t recommend showing yourself to her. It would only distress her.”
“I’ll keep myself in the enclosure next to hers.”
Silence settles between us, the only sound our footsteps and the distant murmur of energy I’ve grown used to over these days.
“Your loyalty to your friend is inspiring. Are you certain you don’t want to go to the fields? Fly?”
My brow draws tight. Of course I want those things.
And I’ll get there one day with her at my side.
Besides, if Ozias and Atlanta believe that the Sar Dyēus could pull me deeper into this bond than I’m willing to go, that I’d be willing to risk Ninon, I’ll show them where my heart lies. Always. “Where she goes, I go.”