Page 95 of A Kingdom Restored

The couple exchanged a silent look, and August held out his hand. Eloise placed hers in it, and Heath saw the merman’s knuckles whiten as he squeezed. The gesture was matter-of-fact, and yet somehow so deeply personal and profound that Heath looked away, feeling like an intruder on an intimate moment.

“Thank you for bringing us the news,” August said. He set off toward the water at a jog, his wife’s hand still clasped in his as she kept pace.

“Wait!” Heath called.

They turned, both holding themselves with tense impatience as they waited for him to speak.

“We didn’t just come to tell you,” Heath said. “We’re here to search the island, to try to find some evidence of where the merpeople came from, something that will convince the dragons they’re not abominations. Would your efforts maybe be better spent helping us?”

August shook his head curtly. “We wish you all success, of course,” he said. “But we’ve scoured every inch of this island. There’s nothing here. At least, nothing we can find.”

Eloise nodded her agreement. “Our entire civilization is under attack right now. There is no better use of our effort than to float beside them as they face their final threat.”

Without another word, the couple resumed their sprint to the water, releasing hands only as they dove into the shallows in a synchronized motion.

“They race so willingly to their certain deaths,” commented Elddreki dispassionately. “Not blindly, or in foolish optimism, but out of loyalty and love. Surely those are not the actions of abominations. I can see no evidence that their kind is of lesser nobility than humans.”

“Theyarehumans,” Heath said fiercely. “I know it in my bones.” He groaned. If only the elders were as willing to be convinced as Rekavidur and his father. But they were so much older, so much more set in their ways.

There was no time to dwell on such frustrations.

“Where do we start looking?” he demanded, turning toward the jungle. “Reka, you used to hunt over the island for evidence of dragons, didn’t you?”

Reka nodded gravely. “I did. I spent many hours doing so, while you lost your heart and head over Merletta.”

The dragon spoke without malice, simply stating facts. But regret knifed through Heath as he remembered again all the wasted opportunities to find the answers he knew Vazula must hide.

“And?” he prompted, when Rekavidur didn’t elaborate.

Reka gave a rippling shrug, the movement maddeningly slow and measured for such a crisis situation.

“I found very little. It surprised me, as I had been led to believe that in the rare event that dragons leave a place forever, they usually leave behind some mark of their presence.” He swiveled his head to face his father.

Elddreki nodded. “I would expect as much. Jocelyn and I certainly discovered such markings when we examined the site the humans call Dragoncave. There was no true, detailed record, only runes that still breathed of the dragons’ longing for the sea, even after many human generations. And of course, the lingering presence of the magic. That much is here, at least.”

Rekavidur inclined his head. “I sense it, too. And I did find a few instances of runes. But nothing revealing. Only sensations, as you described. Conflict, and frustration…perhaps even regret.”

“Regret?” Elddreki seemed surprised. “That is a rare mark for a dragon to leave. Perhaps the merpeople really were abominations, created by dragons of this colony forfeiting their magic. They would certainly regret that.”

“Merletta and her kind arenotabominations,” Heath said firmly. “There are lots of reasons we’re convinced of that. Let’s not waste time covering ground we’ve already been over.”

Elddreki regarded him with what seemed maddeningly like amusement.

“Always in such a hurry, never a moment to waste.” He cocked his head to the side, considering the matter. “Although, I suppose in this instance you do have some reason.”

Heath balled his hands into fists, trying desperately to rein in his frustration at the dragons’ glacial pace.

“I don’t understand what you mean by the dragons leaving markers, but would those locations be a good place to start?”

Elddreki nodded serenely. “As good a place as any. But while dragons leave traces of their presence—generally detectable only to other dragons, although the full potential of power-wielders to sense them is as yet untested—I am surprised Rekavidur didn’t find more if he conducted a thorough search. The location I mentioned—Dragoncave—was visited by dragons only briefly on their journey from Vasilisa in Kyona’s mountains to their eventual new home on Wyvern Islands. If your speculations are correct, a colony of dragons actually lived here for some time.”

“So…what are you saying?” Heath asked, too impatient to be properly polite. “There should be more markers?”

“There should be morethanmarkers,” Elddreki corrected. “We value our history highly, Heath of the Dragonfriends. Our uncountable past is as precious to us as the fast-disappearing years of your future are to you mortals. And history is tied to places. Dragons sometimes leave a colony to seek a home elsewhere, as I did many years ago. But that was done in the knowledge that many dragons stayed behind to continue to steward Vasilisa and the history that dwells there. In this instance, it seems the dragons all left. We do not abandon a location and its associated history lightly.”

“But the dragons who left could carry that history with them, couldn’t they?” Heath said. “They could remember it, tell it to others, maybe even write it down?”

“They could,” Elddreki acknowledged. “But it is not the same. History will never be as complete when it is separated from the place of its birth.”

---