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Page 11
Cale was making his way down the aisle when the turbulence hit, causing the entire vessel to shudder. He almost lost his footing, grabbing onto one of the seats for balance. The flight attendant got onto his intercom system and told all of the passengers to buckle up and stay seated. One of the other attendants tried to get Cale to sit back down.
“The seat belt sign has been turned on, sir,” she said, trying to usher him backwards. Her hair was so stiff with spray that it distracted Cale for just a moment. It looked like a geographical structure had formed on top of her scalp.
But Cale was insistent, snapping himself out of it. “I need to use the bathroom. It’s an emergency.”
Another jolt and Ava gripped the arm rest with her free hand. I officially do not like flying. She swallowed as half a dozen passengers rang their “assistance needed” buttons. The frazzled attendants spoke with each traveler, ensuring them that everything would be fine if they only remained seated.
At that point, the lady with cement hair threatened to get the air marshal, wherever he was, if Cale didn’t follow orders and sit down.
“I will force my way, lady, if you don’t let me through,” Cale snapped.
Ava decided she needed to go reason with him before he got himself handcuffed to the bathroom door. And that’s when the screeching of metal made the cabin scream.
It sounded like the plane was being torn apart, like the bolts holding the steel in place couldn’t keep together any longer. Oxygen masks dropped, and passengers shrieked as they tried to recall the safety video they’d all ignored before the plane took off. Cale rushed back to their row just as the plane began to descend.
“You don’t need it,” he said, batting the oxygen mask out of Ava’s reach. “We’re descending fast enough. The oxygen is already thickening.”
How does he know that? Ava took the hand that Cale offered her, jumping over Chubster, who was sweating profusely, his eyes closed, his round fingers squeezing the arm rest he had been hogging all day.
“Oh my god,” Ava whispered. Her voice grew with her panic. “Oh my god, oh my god.” She wanted to close her eyes to the crying, screaming passengers, mostly because she knew she’d be one of them in just a few moments. Her calm was quickly slipping out of her grasp. “Oh my god!” She grabbed onto the back of a seat, her heartbeat choking her as she got a look out of the window. “We’re falling out of the sky! I’m going to die on this stupid plane!”
Cale bounced up and down on his toes. He wanted to concentrate on the obvious problem and he wanted to keep Ava calm. But he couldn’t shake the feeling…. It hadn’t arrived yet. The plane crashing wasn’t what had woken him up. It was something else. Something worse.
The sound of metal tearing filled the cabin once more. Ava ducked and, out of instinct, Cale covered her with his body. Light fixtures shattered and overhead compartments spit out their luggage. People scrambled for flotation devices, shoving each other out of the way even though there was more than enough for everyone to have one.
Finally, one last screech, one last wrench, and the ceiling was gone, creating a wind tunnel that scooped half a dozen mortified passengers up and out of the vessel. The rest scrambled to hold tight to a seat, to anything that would keep them tethered to the floor. The plane nosedived, and Ava watched in horror as Chubster slipped and landed at the front of the cabin, carts and loose seats crushing him against the bathroom wall.
The hole in the ceiling was blocked by what looked like a cluster of night. The black beast contracted its chest so that it could fit through the gap. It landed, and its talons sunk into the floor of the vessel, anchoring it. Its skin gleamed black, its eyes nothing but dark spheres. On its back sat a gray-skinned monster with arms, legs and a face that might have been human or siren or dragon. The thing on the beast's back pulled out a whip and cracked it into the air. He opened its mouth and spoke in a strange whisper. It sounded like a hundred squealing mice.
Cale cried out, cupping his hands over his ears. He fell to his knees, wedged in between a row of seats that hadn’t flown out of the hole in the plane’s ceiling. Ava tugged at him, begging him to tell her if he was hurt. But Cale couldn’t hear her. All that filled his core was a thundering, crackling voice. It boomed, took up all the space in his chest, pushing its words into his head so that he had to press his temples to keep his brain from exploding.
“Cale of Anders Nest.”
He screamed, blood oozing from his ears and through his fingers. Tears squeezed out from the corners of his eyes. “Stop,” he begged. A whisper was all he could manage.
Ava screamed too. Because she was afraid. Because she didn’t know how it was hurting him. Because it was killing him.
Do something, Ava, do something now! She stood to her feet, her legs hardly working, locked with the fear that had brought her to her knees in the first place. She felt her way across the cabin, clutching the seats until she found the backpack wedged underneath her chair. She hoisted it out and ripped a hole in the lining, pulling out a weapon. Her heart almost stopped in her throat as she fumbled with the dragonblade. But she caught it and stuffed the other one into the backpack, zipped it up and put her arms through the straps. Then she pressed the small rock on the handle so that the dark blade sprung to life. Cale had spent some time showing her how to use it, but already her nerves were winning the war against her memory.
She held the blade underhanded and made her way back to the aisle. Cale’s shouts of pain pushed her forward. I can do this. I can do this for him. She needed to get to the creature as fast as possible, so Ava lay down on her back. Then she slid down the aisle, kicking debris out of the way as gravity did its work. She knew that the closer she got to the wind tunnel’s opening, the higher she’d be lifted into the air. She didn’t care. Her body moved so fast that the beast barely noticed her until she was underneath it. Ava lifted the dragonblade and plunged it into the underbelly of the creature.
The beast didn’t shriek in pain like she’d heard the sirens do. So she lifted the knife and buried it again. The enormous creature’s arms couldn’t reach her underneath it, though it thrashed its talons in an effort to remove her. Finally, Ava stabbed it one last time. It spread its leathery midnight wings and hovered, just high enough so that it could lunge for her, talons spread wide.
She rolled out of harm’s way, though one of its claws tore into her back. She hardly noticed, ignoring the pain. Instead she lifted her legs and kicked as hard as she could into the wounds she’d made. The creature exhaled a plume of thick, black smoke. Then it pushed off, forcing its body through the hole and disappearing into the blue sky above.
Out of instinct she didn’t understand, Ava covered her mouth against the black smoke, though she couldn’t for long. With the beast gone, the wind sucked Ava upward and out of the plane. There was nothing for her to hold on to, nothing to keep her from flailing up and into the clouds. She couldn’t even hear herself scream.
Cale gasped, sucking air back into his lungs. He wanted to keep screaming, he wanted to find someplace to hide. But he pulled himself to his feet, his heart still throbbing against his rib cage. Where is she?
He raced forward, willing his legs to move faster and faster.
He cried out her name, his voice too hoarse to carry through the roaring wind.
The red dragon held his breath as he moved through the poison smoke. He jumped as high as he could so that the wind tunnel lifted him out of the plane that was still hurtling to the ground. He searched for her. Though he was only seconds behind her, he knew that the wind current may have moved her too far out of his reach, but Cale refused to let the pressure of the wind close his eyes. Please God. Please. Show her to me.
And there she was, falling through the air, her eyes shut tight. Cale tried to swim forward, maneuvering through the air currents to get his body closer to hers. With one last stretch, he grabbed her shirt and pulled her toward him. He put his arms around her as they fell from the sky and he did his best to turn him
self so that his back faced the ground. The farther they fell, the warmer the air got. Cale spread himself wide, trying to slow down the fall. He clutched to Ava as tightly as he could, pushing them toward the trees. He knew that if they landed on the sand, the collision would kill her. The tip of the tree caught him, and he tumbled down branches hard and fast, wrapping himself around her. And praying.
Then, he met with solid ground, rolling down toward the sea, the life rushing out of his bones and organs. Ava flew from his arms on impact, but Cale could do nothing about it. All that was left of him was a lifeless shell.
A shell, and the steady, slow burn of a red dragon core.
***
Ava took sharp, painful breaths. She willed herself to keep calm, to breathe deeply, to fill her lungs up with the thick, warm air all around her. She knew that when they’d plummeted from the sky, Cale’s body had shielded her until the force of the crash threw her from his arms. She sat up in the white sand and tried to force her eyes to see. Panic seized her, burning her brain. Calibrate, she told herself. Make sure you’re not dying first. You can’t help anyone if you’re dead.
She touched her own head, feeling for blood or fractures. Other than a few scrapes, she was fine. Ava rolled her shoulders and wiggled her toes in her sneakers. She wanted to see her back where she knew the monster had ripped into her skin with its claws, so she took the backpack off. Still, she couldn’t get a good angle on it. It didn’t seem to be bleeding too badly, and she promptly pushed it out of her mind. The adrenaline made it easy for her to ignore the stinging.
“Cale,” her voice came out in a croak at first. She pushed harder, louder. “Cale!”
No answer. She wobbled to her knees as she pushed herself up. The beach was long, white sand meeting sapphire water. On the other side of the shore was dense jungle.
The plane was nowhere to be found. The sky was quiet, silent clouds floating overhead. Ava stumbled along the shore, searching for any sign of him, until finally, she saw a still, still body. The waves lapping around his legs were the only sign of movement. She hurried to him, her feet sinking into the soft sand until she knelt at his side.
He was dead.
She put two fingers to his neck, pushing just below his jaw, hoping for a pulse, even a slight one. But his skin was cool against her touch. Tears choked her, searing her eyes as she tried to hold them back. Ava repositioned her fingers against his neck, again and again. Nothing.
She could see the broken bones, some of them jutting from his skin. She knew his spine would be cracked into tiny pieces, his skull dented and fractured, his brain turned to mush from the impact of the landing. Ava didn’t even understand how she’d survived it. Even in Cale’s arms, it seemed impossible.
She tried to give him CPR, even though it was no use. Even if his heart restarted, he’d never survive his injuries.
She wanted to scream something, but no words came to her. Only anger. Too close. She had let him get too close. And it hurt more than she thought it could.
She stared. She wanted to touch him, to pet his head like she had on the plane. To hear him growl. To feel his warmth and his careful breathing. To feel safe. She touched her fingertips to his forehead, just barely. It was all she could bear. Hot as her anger, the tears fell one by one, each of them too late. Finally, after what seemed like centuries, she pulled her hand away.
He flinched.
It was barely noticeable, and at first, Ava thought she’d imagined it. Just the slightest tick, the muscles under his eye contracting. Ava covered her mouth to keep the scream from exploding. She touched his forehead, almost laughing, nearly losing her mind. He grew warmer where her fingers met his skin. She cried out with nothing but joy. Nothing but joy and relief.
“I’m here,” she promised him as she tried to catch her breath.
She traced her hands over his body, trying to line his limbs up, trying to match his bones to their ligaments. She had a feeling she was hurting him and in the back of her mind, she remembered health class. Don’t move someone with broken bones or you’ll make it worse. But Ava ignored that voice and listened to what she thought Karma would say. A red dragon can heal. It just takes time.
Ava pressed her fingers against his neck again. She felt it. The quick, light flicker of a pulse pushing back against her. What else? Ava thought of Cale, of what he was like when he was alive. Warmth. She pulled off her sweatshirt and placed it over him, rubbing his arms and legs with her hands. She remembered that more heat escaped through the ears than anywhere else in the body so she decided to cup her hands over his. She hesitated. Blood had dripped from each of Cale’s ears, down into his hair. She covered them anyways, surprised at the heat that she felt on her palms. It was as if everything Karma had told her was starting to make sense. He does have a dragon core made of something very, very hot. She blinked as the truth became even clearer. Made of fire.
Finally, Cale took a breath. It was lopsided, ragged, but a breath. He choked on it, making a gurgling sound as his lungs fought to work again. He took in and let out shallow, quick puffs of air. And then, his first sound. A groan. It almost broke Ava’s heart. She remembered playing in the guest bedroom of his house and knocking over the lamp. He had said it hurt, though it healed. How much is this hurting him now?
She watched and waited, fully focused on him, on every movement, every muscle twitch, until he stopped. He froze. Then he opened his hand and spread his fingers. Ava put her hand in his, relieved to feel a bit of warmth. Cale squeezed her hand in his. He squeezed as tight as he could.
“Ow,” she said, trying to pull away.
But Cale was putting every shred of effort he had into tightening his grip on her. He relaxed, then squeezed again. A gurgle came from him as he tried to speak, to communicate something.
“Cale, I don’t know what you’re trying to say.” Then she got an idea. She opened her palm and placed his finger against it. “Write it.”
Ava bit her lip in anticipation. Maybe he needs something. Maybe I can help him heal faster. Cale traced letters into her hand, but the words he was writing didn’t make any sense. Ava swallowed. Suddenly, she noticed how hot the sun was. The pain in her back grew with every minute.
“Cale, you have to write in English.”
He groaned, like it would be too difficult for him to do. Of course, red tongue comes naturally to him. It hadn’t clicked in Ava’s head that English was Cale’s second language. His third, if the Anders’ homemade linguistics counted.
“I know it’s hard, Cale. But try. English.”
He started again, his fingertip moving across her palm.
“B-l-a-d….”
“Blade?” Ava swallowed and dabbed the sweat off her forehead.
Great. He probably wants me to cut him open or something. Whatever happened to penicillin? Ava retrieved the backpack, surprised at how much it hurt her to move her left arm or to bend at the waist. Stupid flying beast got me good.
“Okay, I have it,” she said. She pressed the little stone on top, and the blade popped out. It was the last of their dragonblades. She’d lost the other one in the belly of the black creature. “Now what?”
Cale didn’t have time to answer her. The sound that came from the wall of trees was not a comforting one. It was a fierce, desperate snarl. It made Ava’s blood chill. She stood, facing the trees, trying to find where it had come from.
A boy stepped out of the bushes. He was so handsome it made Ava stall. No older than Cale, shirtless, dark hair hanging in his eyes. He smiled at Ava, one of the most enticing gestures she’d ever seen.
“Umm… Hi,” Ava said, surprised at how her breath caught in her throat. Suddenly, she felt like a teenaged girl. Ava you’re embarrassing yourself. Pull it together. “Hello,” she said again.
As soon as the word left her mouth, she realized that she was somewhere in South America. No one spoke English, most likely, and she’d have to rely on high school Spanish to communicate. “Por favor… yo necesito ayuda�
��por mi amigo.”
The boy observed Cale, his face expressionless. Then he looked up to Ava, his eyes lingering. “He is your friend?” His voice sounded like chocolate.
Ava nodded, relieved that he spoke English, bewildered at the effect the man had on her. “Yes, he’s my friend. And he’s hurt pretty badly.”
The boy looked at them both again and frowned at Ava, his perfect lips turning downward ever so slightly. “Your lover?”
His word choice was strange. But maybe that’s how he learned English. “No, not my boyfriend,” Ava shook her head. “Just my friend.”
The man looked delighted, his dark eyes lighting up. “Rider,” he said, as if he’d guessed the right answer on a test. “And your dragon.”
Ava froze. How did he know that? “No,” she said, though she wasn’t sure why she was denying it. “Just my friend. Hardly friends even. We just met a few days ago.”
The man stepped toward her, his head tilted. He licked his lips. “Your lover?”
There was something about the way he said the words that made Ava nervous, afraid. Like he hated the idea of them being together.
“I already said 'no'.”
The man moved even closer. “Your dragon, then. It must be one or the other. You seem so…close. A beautiful thing.” But he sneered as he said it, moving still nearer. “Ava. Is that your name?” He smiled, but his eyes revealed contempt. “It is a beautiful name. I will sing for you…Ava.”
“Stay where you are,” Ava said, taking a step back.
Fear wasn’t always bad. It was a signal, a warning, self-preservation. Ava listened to it. She brought the blade to life, showing it off, letting the sun glint off of it. “Go away.”
The boy smiled, revealing his white teeth. “Stay where I am or go away?” He blinked, still moving toward her, still smiling. His voice was even sweeter. “A deal then. I will just take one of you. I will take your dragon and leave you in peace. And I will sing for you. Just give me him.”