Destiny Kills

I blinked. “What?”

“I can’t call the loch. At first I think it was drugs, but the longer it went on, the more the restriction became a part of my very nature. I can’t control water anymore, Des. It’s been too long, and that part of my soul has shriveled up and died.”

Fear slithered through me. “But controlling water is as much a part of you as flying and fire are to an air dragon. How can your own nature restrict something like that?”

“Because there is a limit to how long a sea dragon can be away from the sea, Destiny. Loch and lake may sustain us for years, but we need to be in the sea if we are to retain the sea in our souls.”

I closed my eyes and took a deep, shuddery breath. I’d speculated that this might be the case, but I’d certainly been hoping that it wasn’t true. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you’re a half blood. Because no one—not even me—really knows how the rules apply to a sea dragon who has the fire of the day running through their blood.” She hesitated. “What was the point in warning you, when the rules might not apply to you? Only . . . it seemed they did.”

A chill ran through me at her words. “How close had I come to losing my powers?”

“Very.” She rubbed her arms lightly, as if similarly chilled. “It took five years for my control to fade, Des, and that was longer than I’d thought possible. I could feel the slip of power in you after eleven years. You were walking the edge of losing your soul when you broke out of here.”

And still she hadn’t warned me. Maybe she simply didn’t want to worry me any further. “So it wasn’t just for Dad’s sake that you wanted me out?”

She smiled gently. “It was for both of you. I didn’t want either of you to suffer.”

“And you think Dad or I don’t want the same for you? Do you think we don’t care whether you die here or die free?”

“Des, the love of my life is dead, and my soul is shattered. The place of my death no longer matters, only death itself.”

The place did matter, because without the dawn ceremony, her soul would be as lost as my dad’s would have been. It was just more evidence to the fact that she wasn’t thinking entirely straight —and whether it was drugs, or losing the sea, or something else entirely didn’t matter. She might sound reasonable, but she wasn’t.

“And,” she continued softly, “I have no choice in the death matter anyway. The drug they used to keep me calm over the years has done far more than just dampen the abilities I no longer have. Too much has built up in my system and it has poisoned me. It eats away at my insides, and there is no stopping it now. My time is close, Destiny.”

Her words made my heart ache—not just for her pain, but because I was losing her just when I’d finally found her. The family I’d hoped to regain once she was free was nothing more than ashes blowing on the wind. Just like my dad.

I blinked back tears and swept my gaze down the length of her, for the first time noticing how thin she was. Her hands were little more than skin stretched over bones, her ribs and hips protruding. Even if she could have escaped, it was doubtful she’d survive the cold, dark waters of the loch in that condition. There was no padding, no insulation against the cold. And while a dragon’s skin might be designed to protect us against the icy depths, tough hide alone was not enough.

“There may be no stopping it, but that doesn’t mean you have to die here.” I walked over to her and wrapped my arms around her. I might have been hugging a skeleton, but it felt so good to hold her after all these years of not even being allowed to see her. And to have her taken away so soon after finding her . . . Tears stung my eyes again but I blinked them back again. Now was not the time for grief. That could come later, when it was all over.

“It’s so good to see you,” I whispered, when I could.

She hugged me back, her frail arms displaying a surprising amount of strength. “And it’s good to finally be able to hold you, my stubborn, beautiful child.”

I squeezed my eyes shut against the run of more tears, and kissed her ruined cheek. I so wanted to do more, to hug her and kiss her and tell her how much I missed her, how much I loved her, but we just didn’t have the time. Besides, she knew. It was in her touch. In her gentle, mutilated smile.

I pulled away, and tucked my arm in hers. Her skin was like paper. Brittle, icy paper. And not all of the cold in her skin was the night and the nature of a sea dragon. Some of it was the ice of death. I bit back the rise of bile and anger, and forced a calmness in my voice as I said, “Let’s get out of here. Dad awaits, and you know how impatient he can be.”

She laughed softly. “Yes. And I’m afraid it’s a trait our daughter shares.”

“That, unfortunately, is true.”

I guided her past the pool, around the still unconscious guard and through the door, which I closed behind us. The green light I could do nothing about, not without grabbing the guard and using his fingerprints again—and that was time I didn’t want to waste. I had a feeling we didn’t have a whole lot of it left anyway.

Another explosion ripped through the air as we began to walk, and the very walls around us seemed to shake. Dust puffed down from the ceiling. Trae had obviously set timers on some of his explosions. I wondered how he’d managed it. And whether we’d actually have an ancestral home to worry about by the time all his diversions had finally gone off.

“What’s that?” Mom whispered.

“A little something to sidetrack the scientists.” I tightened my grip on her and tried to hurry her steps a little. Though the hallway itself was quiet, my skin itched with the need to be gone, to get out of this place. My luck might have held so far, but my luck had never been that good for long.

A point proven when the sound of rapidly approaching steps whispered across the air.

“Oh, no,” my mother said, her voice cracked and unsteady. “Not now. We can’t be caught now.”

“We won’t.”

The footsteps were coming from the corridor in front of the guard’s box—the one that ran at an angle to this one—and were still some distance away. I stopped, hoping they’d take another corridor, hoping they’d go into one of the other rooms.

They didn’t.

I cursed softly, then guided my mother into the nearest open cell—one that was bigger than some of the others I’d seen. The wide pool was deep, and the dark water smelled fresher than the water in my mother’s cell. The ceiling soared above us, the rafters dark with age and decorated with dust and webs. We might be in the basement, but this room rose the full height of the house. Those were roof rafters above us, not the supports of the next floor.

“I know this room,” my mother said, her nose in the air and nostrils flaring. “They do tests here. Air tests. Underwater tests.”

I didn’t need to ask what those tests were, because I’d been put through a few of them in my time in this place. But never here.

I guided her over to the water’s edge, then gently pressed her down. “Hide in the water. If they come in here and discover us, duck under. You may not be able to use the water’s power anymore, but you’re still a dragon.”

“But you can’t—”

“Mom, just trust me.”

“I do trust you. I just don’t want these monsters catching you again.”

I smiled. “I thought we were the only monsters in this world.”

“Monsters come in all shapes and sizes,” she said grimly. “And many of them are human-born.”

Wasn’t that the truth. “Please, Mom, get into the water. I’ll hide over near the door. With any sort of luck, they won’t even come this way.” Even as I said the words, I didn’t believe them. But as long as she did, nothing else mattered.

She hesitated, then slipped into the cold, dark water. As her sigh of pleasure ran across the silence, I walked behind the door. The footsteps drew closer, not stopping at the guard’s box but moving on quickly. I flexed my fingers, trying to ease the tension creeping through my muscles and wishing I still had the wrench. But I’d put it down when I’d dragged the guard inside Mom’s cell, and I hadn’t thought to bring it with me.