Page 5 of For Ever More

“You also brought friends?” Lord Zhu examines me, then glances at Ruilin outside, his face stern. “Can they be trusted? Many from the Three Kingdoms seek our secrets.”

“Lord Zhu, we trust in Master Sikyong’s daughter.” Lord Hairong rubs his chin as he asks Dian, “Did you accomplish all that you set out to do?”

“Yes, Lord Hairong,” she replies respectfully. “Everything and more.”

The Elders’ eyes widen; they did not expect this answer. But then Mistress Weining stumbles forward, pointing at my cloak where the dragon’s form bulges beneath. Tears form in her eyes, a smile breaking across her face. “The Sun Dragon… he has returned!”

At once, I peel away the covering, gently lifting the dragon from the cloak. His fiery scales are dulled to rust, his eyes closed. Flecks of white have formed over him like snowflakes, his breathing so faint it’s barely a flutter.

Gasps ripple through the pavilion, Captain Shenming stepping closer as the Elders rise to their feet. Mistress Weining reaches for the dragon but catches herself, her accusing gaze flying to me.

“You’re holding the dragon,” she rebukes me.

“I need to.” I suppress a flash of impatience. These customs are new to me, I must learn them and hold my tongue. “He is severely wounded; he cannot fly.”

A cushion is carried into the hall, and I lay the Sun Dragon carefully upon it. Once I move away from him, the tension eases. The Elders and Mistress Weining approach the dragon, keeping a respectful distance.

“He does not awaken,” Lady Shila murmurs.

Lord Hairong straightens to stare at us. “Who harmed him?”

“The Sun Dragon was a captive in the Palace of Nine Hills, his power drained to enchant their weapons and armor. His condition is precarious,” Dian replies. “We had to touch the dragon to bear him away.”

Lady Shila’s black eyes fix on me, striking against her pale skin. “The Sun Dragon would not blame you for this.”

A sharp cry pierces like the shatter of glass. Light flares on the horizon, trees swaying—as a large creature flies toward us, its silver scales aglitter as its body undulates gracefully.

“The Moon Dragon,” echoes around in reverent whispers.

Everyone sweeps into a low bow. As the dragon nears, her body shrinks, allowing her to glide into the pavilion to land beside her companion. She lowers her head, crowned with gold antlers, her blue eyes darkening as her tail slides gently across the Sun Dragon’s. He grows larger, filling the space of the cushion, as though being here—with the Moon Dragon—strengthens him, yet he remains unconscious.

My companion’s spirit is almost broken. He has been tormented, his power stolen… he is dying. Her anguish rings through my mind—the others too—an almost violent fury pulsing through the crowd. Relief fills me to have concealed the stalk of my ring, to avoid accusations before we have the chance to explain.

“Great One, how can we help?” Lady Shila asks. “How can we restore the Sun Dragon?”

My companion must be immersed in the Waterfall of Eternal Night, the birthplace of the dragons. Only that can revive him. Only those in the company of a dragon may enter.

“Where is this place?” Lord Zhu asks. “We will go there at once.”

Study the movement of the dragon stars, those that can only be seen from this island. They will reveal where and when the waterfall will appear for a single night. Fail to find it then, and it will vanish for decades after. These words reverberate with urgency, and a deep fear.

“We will find the waterfall,” Lord Hairong assures the dragon, his steadiness a comfort amid the rising anxiety. “We will save him, whatever it takes.”

The Moon Dragon turns back to the Sun Dragon. Though she doesn’t look my way, her voice rings in my mind. I am speaking only to you now, child. Do not answer aloud; I will pluck your answers from your mind. At once, I drop my head in silent agreement, hiding my shock.

I sense the imprint of my companion’s magic within you.

I breathe easier at the lack of accusation in the dragon’s tone. Ignoring the rules, I think my answer to speak to her. He offered this magic to me. It was the only way we could escape the Palace of Nine Hills—

Speak of this to no one, she warns.

The others are watching the Moon Dragon curiously. “Is there more you wish to tell us, Great One?” Lady Shila asks.

When the dragon doesn’t reply, Mistress Weining says in hushed tones, “Perhaps she is tired, or wishes to observe her companion in silence. This reunion is most sudden, and though it’s a cause for great joy, there is also much to worry about.”

The Moon Dragon doesn’t respond, still staring at the Sun Dragon—capable of deception too, in this slight way. You must take care, she tells me. Our power is not meant to be wielded by mortals. It is dangerous should you be unable to harness it, should you use it recklessly.

A chill shrouds me to think of this magic in my veins, thrumming ceaselessly—growing in force since it was yielded it to me. How can I return it?