Plight of the Dragon (4 page)

“Now?” Kyra raised a brow. “You mean since Marcus tried to kill me?”

Bolsvck made a funny sound. It came from deep in his throat and reminded her of a chuff, much like the carnival lions or tigers made. Was that normal for dragons? Did she do that?

She chanced a glance in Sebastian’s direction. He was feeling the back of his jacket, probably searching for the dagger.
He doesn’t know I moved it while he was sleeping.
Although he was attempting to be inconspicuous, she’d picked up on his actions quickly. The others might catch on, as well.
 

She gawked at her father, raised her hand to shield her eyes, then blindly pointed to his southern region. “Mind covering that, at least?”

Some of the men accompanying Queen Shui leaked a laugh, but were silenced with one sharp glower from their sovereign. The stoic woman watched Kyra’s every move like a dragon ogling a soon-to-be-procured treasure. That was how she felt, too. Like a prize Queen Shui intended on winning.

“Honestly, child. Your modesty bewilders me,” Bolsvck said and tore the banner off the front of the Palm Reader’s trailer beside him. It was clear by his lack of inhibition and the way he wrapped the fabric around his middle, tying it with one strong knot, that he was a simple and no-bull kind of man. Task completed, Bolsvck’s grin questioned if there was anything else he needed to do to please her.

“Er…thanks.” Kyra rocked back on her heels and rested her balled fists on her hips. Trying to figure out what to do next, how to diffuse whatever the situation was between her dad and Sebastian, her mind spun like the carnival rides in the distance. She didn’t really remember her parents that well. Didn’t remember much of them at all. Only enough to know they were her parents, not enough to feel familiar or at ease around them. Then again, maybe she never had felt easy around them; her gut was trying to lead her to that conclusion now. She only had to listen better. But not knowing her parents, not remembering them or herself or her history with them, she hadn’t a clue how to proceed.
 

As for Sebastian, she only knew what her gut was telling her. And right now it was telling her to protect him.

She exhaled, let her gaze wander beyond the small dragon circle. It made her feel trapped, forced to remember things she couldn’t. Around them, the crowd was busy having a splendid time. People wandered past on all sides. Some held hands. Some traveled in large groups, talking or joking amongst themselves. Others snacked on carnival treats—kettle corn, cotton candy, enormous hot dogs. She found herself wondering what it would be like to live one of their lives, rather than her own. She didn’t see a sad face among the populace as they decided between visiting the crystal ball reader or rune caster or astrologist or…or…or
wow
.
 

She ogled beyond the crowd, beyond the Mystic’s alley where they now stood, and for the first time since arriving, took in the full view of where she was. There was so much to this supernatural carnival. So much more than just a carnival…or a circus. As far as she could see, there were extraordinary things to behold.
 

Impressive purple- and white-striped Big Tops, enchanting red and black show tents. Marvelous games so whimsically bright their lights bled from one to another. And rides…twirling, turning, twisting, whirling. Reaching to the moon and back. Music mixed with screams of horror and screams of glee and screams of devilish ecstasy. Mystic’s was an orgy of color sprinkled with stardust in the most spellbinding way. How could she forget such a place?

For a moment she was admiring the massive exposition and seeing it as it currently appeared, and then she wasn’t. The carnival was the same, for the most part, only less crowded. Rides appeared to move with more ease and less urgency. Sides of the tents rustled in the evening breeze, and the majority of the screams came for the area of the Ferris wheel, which appeared to be in the center or far back of the carnival compared to where she now stood. Was she somehow remembering a different day at Mystic’s Carnival? Kyra blinked, and the current chaos resumed.

Maybe it was her imagination, but a few of the people wandering their direction down the lane appeared to be heading straight for them, and staring right at her. A red-haired man caught her attention, and her insides tightened. She realized her mouth was agape and snapped it shut.
 

She wanted to grab Sebastian’s hand and flee the area, but already knew she wouldn’t, couldn’t. Whatever instinct fluttered inside of her telling her to run, an equally, more powerful one punched at the flutter and yelled at her to stay, face the fear. Even if she had no idea what it was she feared. Others in the crowd must have sensed it, too, as they moved to the sides, allowing the approaching strangers a large berth.

“We are taking the boy to forked cells at the Devil’s Eye now.”

Kyra snapped to and turned on her mother. “Not if I have anything to say in the matter.”

“Kyra.” Ryhuu brushed her arm, only this time, there was a gentleness in the gesture.
 

She jerked away, crinkling her brow at him. “Who are you to insinuate yourself into these matters?” Her gaze moved to Sebastian’s tired and beaten presence, then to her mother’s slight shoulder shrug. There was a dynamic at play here she didn’t understand.
What am I missing?

“Don’t you remember me?” He reached for her hand. Again, she brushed him away.

“The boy will be going with us,” Bolsvck said. “He shall be held in Mobürn until we are satisfied that he has given us all the information we desire, and deem him no longer necessary.”

“I don’t agree,” Queen Shui was saying when Kyra stepped between them and addressed her father.
 

“What does that mean?”

“What do you think it means?” He spoke as if talking to a child in some sort of classroom exercise.
 

Kyra’s hand twitched. She wanted to punch him. She knew exactly what going to Mobürn meant; she only wanted to hear him say the words, clearly and decisively, to her face. He was going to torture Sebastian. Torture, and then kill him. It was as if Bolsvck had poured a bucket of ice water on her. No, she was immensely colder than plain ice water. Her body temperature was absolutely frigid. And the stupid smirk on his face screamed
challenge me
. Maybe that was exactly what he wanted. Was he trying to provoke her?
 

“Sir?” Bolsvck broke their gaze and turned, met an athletically built female with coppery-red hair. At her side, another sentry.

Kyra pulled at a strand of her own hair. Hers was longer. The other girl’s was short, but long enough to have the sides pulled into a pony at the back, where it poked out like a pumpkin stub from her skull. The girl sneered at Kyra and handed Bolsvck a garment made of what looked to be a combination of faux leather and steel, but likely wasn’t. Kyra moved her gaze from the girl to the new item and studied it intently. Bolsvck replaced the Palm Reader’s banner, wrapping the new garment around his middle like a kilt.
 

“Kyra?”
 

Kyra jumped and met the gaze of a red-haired man, the other sentry. Her insides fluttered and back-stepped, and she back-stepped too. She had been staring at her father, and probably in a most inappropriate way. But she wanted to know what the kilt was made from. Dragon scales?

“Kyra?”
 

This time it was Sebastian who had spoken. She glanced over her shoulder, the reflection in his indigo eyes melted the frost plaguing her body. When she turned back, the red-haired man was standing right in front of her. Her breath got stuck in her throat.
 

And then Ryhuu was right beside her, standing impossibly straight and proper. “She is not interested, Drakhögg. You should step away.”

A diabolical smirk took over the redhead, Drakhögg, and he shoved Ryhuu in the chest. “She doesn’t want you, wet-meat. Drag your dragon ass back to your sinkhole ocean home, and stay there.”
 

The darker man glared at Drakhögg and didn’t budge. He stood firm, a rather unreadable appearance upon his face.
 

Drakhögg shoved Ryhuu in the chest a second time. “You’ll lose.”
 

“Water will win,” Ryhuu said. “In the end, water always puts out the fire.”
 

Drakhögg’s face lit up like an invigorated wrestler on steroids, and he leaned forward and exhaled in the other guy’s face. “You forget, Ryhuu. We are more than simple fire. We evaporate water. Kyra will make the right choice.”

“Will you both stop talking about me like I’m not even here?” Kyra said, her voice rising in both pitch and tone. “Who are you to decide what I will or won’t do?” Turning away from them, she glanced back at Sebastian and silently mouthed,
What are they talking about?
Sebastian yanked at the men holding him hostage and nodded for her to join him.
 

“Ryhuu is your intended,” Queen Shui said.

Kyra snapped back around. “I’m supposed to marry that guy? Since when?”

“Don’t listen to her.” Bolsvck brushed Queen Shui’s words aside with a wave of his hand. “It is Drakhögg with whom you shall be wed.” He slapped the redhead on the back and beamed with what appeared to be a mixture of pride and satisfaction.

“Both of you have arranged marriages for me?” Kyra backed away from them, backed up until Sebastian’s arms clamped around her own. “No wonder I can’t remember any of you. I’ve chosen to block it all out.”
 

Both her parents spoke in protest at once.

“I suggest you give the girl some time to absorb this new information.”
 

All heads turned to the side, where an old man stood smoking his bull-headed pipe.
 

“What do you know, old man?” Drakhögg asked, an angry bite in his voice.

Both Bolsvck and Queen Shui rose a hand to hush the overly bold Fire Dragon. “Show Zeke the utmost of respect,” Bolsvck said to Drakhögg. Drakhögg shook his head, rolled his eyes. Kyra stared at the new arrival, with his dark skin, white eyes, cane, tweed jacket, and little cap. There was something oddly familiar about him. If only she could… She searched her memory. Searched and searched and searched, but she came up blank. She let out a sigh.
 

“I know more than you would think,” Zeke said. “Would you mind?” He motioned toward Kyra and Sebastian. Both Bolsvck and Queen Shui stepped to the side, allowing Zeke an uncluttered pathway. A girl stepped to his side, and together they walked toward Kyra, the girl gently guiding Zeke’s way. When he stood before Kyra, he softly patted her cheek. “My dear, you have been through so much.” He tilted his head toward Sebastian. “Might I suggest a ride on the carousel?”
 

Bolsvck stepped forward, his chest pushed out. Queen Shui stood behind him, stern and concerned tells crackling her face. “Are you suggesting the two of them go enjoy the carnival…together?” Bolsvck asked. “I will not have my daughter tramping around with
that
.” He tossed a hand in their direction.
 

Zeke laughed, a mild and reassuring sound.
 

“Are you mocking me, sir?” Bolsvck stepped closer.

“I assure you, I am not.” Zeke turned to face the leader of the Fire Dragons. “I fully understand and respect your customs and beliefs.” He rubbed his chin with his thumb. “I only wonder if it might benefit all parties if Kyra retrieved her memories.”
 

 
The group fell silent, and Kyra’s gaze wandered from her mother to her father, then over to Ryhuu and Drakhögg.
 

It was Sebastian who cut through the wordless moment. “You know how to restore Kyra’s memory?”
 

“I may.” Zeke swiveled slowly with his cane planted firmly in the dirt. “I may not. Like I said, fancy a ride on the carousel?”

Kyra spun around and grabbed Sebastian’s arms, clasping at the elbows. Her eyes widened, and her breath was deep. “Do I want to remember? Because I think I do…if it means remembering you.”

Sebastian leaned his forehead against hers, then spoke in hushed tones, as if to keep their words private. Kyra wondered if privacy were possible in their present company. “Good or bad, our memories make us who we are. I love the person you have become because of your vast experiences. I wouldn’t change a thing about you, Kyra. You’re an amazing dragon, and an even more amazing woman. You put the glow of the sun to shame.”

Kyra’s skin tingled, and warmth blossomed in the core of her chest. In that moment, for him, she could fly. Her fingers sought his, weaving together until she couldn’t tell where she ended and he began.
 

“How?” Kyra asked Zeke.

“Follow Talia here.” Zeke’s hand wavered in the air to the young girl at his side. “She’ll show you what needs to be done.”

“We can trust her,” Sebastian whispered at Kyra’s ear.
 

Kyra bit her lip and studied this new female in her life. Her stomach clenched.
 

“I still don’t understand the need for
him
to be present,” Queen Shui said, squaring her shoulders.
 

“Exactly,” Bolsvck seconded.

“Sebastian was, and as you can see, still is a big part of the life Kyra has chosen. If you wish for her to remember, it is best to have a tether, someone who understands her and won’t judge her.” Zeke nodded at Sebastian. “He is best for that role.”

“Then I will go.” Drakhögg stepped forward.

“As will I.” Not to be outdone, Ryhuu also stepped forward.
 

Kyra rolled her eyes and rubbed her temple. This testosterone match made her head hurt.
 

Ignoring the dragon men, Zeke placed an arm around Kyra and moved her in the direction of the rides. He motioned for Sebastian to follow. Talia walked steadily at Zeke’s side.
 

“Sebastian currently safeguards a large part of Kyra.” He tossed a meaningful glance in the direction of the dragon ring. “Understand now?” Bolsvck, Queen Shui, and all their people stood in place and said nothing. “Good. I only require the two. Any more, and it will muddle the process. Please refrain from following.” Zeke glanced at Kyra and winked. They walked the path at a mild to slow rate. “When it is done, Kyra will return to you.”