Page 13 of Entwined
“A dragon that’s its own kind of nightmare.”
I can’t argue with that.
“What I can’t understand is why are we going to Iceland?”
“You mean, why Iceland, instead of, say, Louisiana?”
He nods.
“The thing is, you know I have a strange birthmark.” He’s seen it, so without even gesturing, his eyes drop to my chest. “It’s?—”
“In the shape of a heart.”
“Well, anyway, Azar saw the memory of what happened when I got kidnapped, and how the people in Iceland kept chanting hjartanu, which apparently means heart, and now he thinks we need to check there for some connection to what the dragons are looking for.”
“What are they looking for?”
Duh. He has no idea, of course. “They want something that’s called the heart, and that’s as much as I know. It may be all they know, or maybe it’s all they’ve been willing to share. Either way.” I shrug. And then I double over, bracing my hand against the windowsill overlooking the courtyard far down below as I recalibrate from yet another miserable wave of pain.
The crash followed by a shuddering feeling down below us takes us both by surprise.
“What was that?” I’m asking at the same time as we see the windows below us explode outward, and a dragon goes flying through—a large brown, snake-like dragon.
With a tiny little boy on his back.
Without thinking, I throw my hand outward, and scream, “No!”
Sammy’s tiny body freezes mid-air.
I feel it then, as a terrible, rippling tidal wave of pain crashes over me. “I can’t let go,” I shout. “But I can’t hold on much longer.” I can sense it now, like a massive ball of churning energy in my head, right between my eyes. I’m pulling energy from it and I’m directing it at my brother and it’s working.
He’s floating in the air, wobbling only slightly in the breeze.
Gideon vaults over the sofa in front of him and flings the balcony open. He’s leaning against the railing, his hands reaching for Sammy, but Sammy’s several floors below, and Gideon’s way too small to come close to reaching him.
Down below, I sense other dragons gathering, and through the window, I see silver ones whipping through the air, but I can’t trust any of them to help.
Until a wall of air slams into me, billowing aggressively through the patio door, and my monstrous red dragon snatches Sammy with his claws, banking and flying upward.
I finally let go, and then I hear the shout, but not in time to help.
I rush to the edge of the railing in time to watch Gordon slam into the ground with a wet-sounding thwack.
“You were holding him too,” Gideon says. “You were suspending that huge beast in the air.”
I didn’t even realize it.
Azar flies back by, this time much slower, and I reach out and take Sammy from his extended talons. At least the waves of pain are gone, and it looks like Sammy’s just fine.
“I’m so sorry I dropped Gordon,” I wheeze. “I didn’t realize I had him too.”
Gordon’s fine now, Azar says. A little flattened, but fine. Wait until I’m done with him.
I can’t help feeling pleased that he’s upset with his friend for endangering my little brother. I know he’s probably just upset that his orders weren’t followed, but I can’t help hoping that there’s some small affection there.
The fact that you suspended him in air at all is astonishing. Our training must not have been a total failure. But Azar’s massive wings are flapping consistently to hold him aloft, and apparently it’s one flap too many. . . for Gideon’s towel.
When it flies off, fluttering over the edge of the balcony and disappearing, leaving Gideon entirely naked, I gasp, and then I spin around in the other direction. I hate the heat I feel rising in my cheeks.