Sitting on an egg crate near a wall in an abandoned warehouse, Rebekah held a handwritten letter close to her eyes. Dallas, her aunt, though more like a sister than an aunt, sat on a similar crate, leaning her head close to Rebekah’s. With raven locks spilling from under a wide-brimmed hat, dark glasses spanning her eyes, a black leather purse on her lap, and her trench coat collar pulled up high, Dallas looked more like a secret agent than a former dragon.
Rebekah squinted at the hastily written script, angling the page toward a row of dirty windows to gain better light. “I received Valcor’s note this morning. The slayer is definitely on the move, so Valcor wants us to locate and warn the others.”
Dallas removed her sunglasses and leaned toward the letter. “Does he know where they are?”
“Four of them, but he considered it too risky to write down their whereabouts. Since they lacked fluency in any modern language, he escorted them back to England and settled them into separate hideouts where they could study the culture. He instructed us to go to West Virginia where we will find their addresses in a secure file in a supercomputer named Larry.”
“Supercomputer?”
“A new invention. I will have to explain some other time.”
“Soon, I hope.” Dallas pulled a cell phone from her purse. “I still have to figure out how to use this.”
“I will teach you that, as well, but we must finish our business here.” Rebekah pushed a strand of blond hair from her eyes and reached for a handbag on the floor. “I started my own list of surviving dragons.”
“I know Yellinia went with Valcor,” Dallas said. “She and Martinesse.”
“A good start.” Rebekah pulled a pen and spiral notebook from her bag, opened it to the first page, and silently read the first two lines.
Legossi: Rebekah (Boston, MA)
Firedda: Dallas (Boston, MA)
On the next two lines, she wrote:
Yellinia: Dorian (London, England)
Martinesse: Jordan (London, England)
“According to Valcor, we need not concern ourselves about Clefspeare, Hartanna, or your mother.” She tapped her chin with her pen. “What about your other sisters?”
Dallas raised two fingers and lowered them as she counted off her siblings. “Sorentine wanted to travel north, perhaps to Canada. For some strange reason, she loves cold weather. And I think Alithia said something about staying with your sister in Scotland.”
“I remember that. They must be the other two Valcor took with him.” Rebekah jotted down the following lines:
Sorentine: Tamara (Somewhere, Canada)
Alithia: Kaylee (Glasgow, Scotland)
Carboni: Elise (Glasgow, Scotland)
As she imagined the locations on a world map, Rebekah nodded. With four of them in the British Isles, perhaps finding everyone would take only weeks rather than months. Yet, who knew when they would have mailing addresses or cell phones? Even with those in place, open communication would be dangerous. Their deaths in the past proved that the slayer was always vigilant. “I could contact them using older dialects,” she said, “but would that help us or make our communication more obvious?”
“I believe we should use modern English and trust them to learn quickly,” Dallas said. “Although the rest of us lack your ability to consume knowledge, we are all very adaptable.”
“Except for Sorentine.”
Dallas sighed. “Yes. Except for Sorentine.”
Rebekah pressed her lips together, trying to hold back her tears. It was time to address the subject she had avoided for too long. “Shall we discuss our younglings?”
“Our younglings?” Dallas raised her eyebrows. “What do you mean?”
“The very day the slayer killed us, I was going to tell you.” Rebekah’s throat tightened, but she pressed on in a higher pitch. “I wanted to be sure before I told anyone.”
Dallas grasped her hand. “You were … with child?”
Closing her eyes, Rebekah nodded. Now she could barely speak at all. “Three months.”
“Oh!” Dallas clutched Rebekah’s hand. “I am so sorry!”
Rebekah laid her hand over her abdomen, the very spot Devin had thrust his sword. Could it have been over a hundred years ago? Memories of the horrible pain were still so fresh. As she massaged the point of entry, a sudden feeling of emptiness overwhelmed her. Tears flowed. She couldn’t go on.
“You need not speak,” Dallas said. “The pain of losing your only child is too tragic for words.”
Rebekah nodded her thankfulness.
“I was wondering,” Dallas continued, “if my youngling might still be alive. Humans rarely live that long, at least not since the times of the patriarchs.”
Rebekah pulled a tissue from her handbag and dabbed her eyes. After almost a minute, her throat loosened. “It is possible. When Alithia’s son went into hiding, he was over one hundred years old, so your daughter might well be alive.”
Dallas squinted at the ceiling, moving her lips as if counting. “Assuming she escaped the slayer and survived this long, Mariel would be …” She looked at Rebekah again. “One hundred thirty-seven years old.”
“So our search will include her and …” Rebekah tapped her chin, trying to remember Alithia’s son’s name.
“Thomas,” Dallas said.
“Please pardon my memory loss, but I seem to remember one other youngling. Did Sorentine give birth?”
“I never heard. She died so soon, I often wondered. At the time of our transformation, she was far enough along in her pregnancy, so she could have delivered before Devin killed her. But delivered what? Was her little one transformed within her?”
Rebekah let a thin smile emerge. “Sorentine was within a week of delivering when Merlin brought the wine to Bald Top. Gartrand was such a proud father, he counted the days.”
“Your brother was one to boast—” Dallas held a hand over her mouth. “I apologize. My insensitive ways are not helpful.”
Rebekah waved a hand. “No need. I know his folly all too well.”
The two women stared at each other for a moment. As Dallas’s eyes filled with tears, she sighed. “So many heartaches.”
Rebekah read her aunt’s face. She knew. Everyone knew. Sorentine had made many judgment errors. Going through the covenant veil with Gartrand had been Sorentine’s most obvious blunder, but her lack of care in staying away from the slayer had cost her her life soon after her transformation and had inadvertently given the slayer knowledge that helped him track down the remaining dragons. “Since we have no way to search for Sorentine’s youngling, we will confine our efforts to the known dragons and offspring. Agreed?”
Dallas nodded. “Agreed.”
Grabbing her handbag, Rebekah rose to her feet. “Have you learned how to drive?”
Dallas’s eyes shot open. “In so few days? In Boston? Without a car?”
“Do you remember the silver dollar from our cache the dealer made such a fuss about?”
“Indeed. He was not a skilled barterer, was he? He practically drooled.”
“We settled on a payment this morning. I now have a sports utility vehicle and all the supplies we need to go to West Virginia.”
Dallas looked at the ceiling again, a coy grin on her face. “What words did they use in that movie last night?”
“Road trip.” Rebekah reached for her hand. “Let’s hit the road.”