Jacob shook back his white-blond hair. “She just patted a dragon. Where exactly do we draw the line on dangerous activities?”
I threw my hands in the air, annoyance flooding in again. “One: you don’t draw any lines, I do. Two: since when are dragons the enemy? That one wasn’t even dangerous.”
Gerard cleared his throat. “She has a point. As long as we steer clear of their territory, we do not have trouble from the dragons. Although they don’t like being challenged.”
I smirked at Braxton. “Dragons don’t like to be challenged … shocker,” I drawled, my sarcasm alive and well.
The quads exchanged looks, commiserating mostly, but I was used to that. There was no more arguing. The fight was done. Although judging by their resigned expressions, we’d probably revisit this conversation at some point.
We resumed our travels with the cloaks across the sand. I was marching along, my feet slamming into the ground with the same ferocious beat as my heart rate. Which was racing.
I wasn’t really pissed at the Compasses, I was used to their overprotective bullshit – even though they’d certainly stepped it up a notch since we’d been on the run. No, my real concern aligned with Maximus … what was happening to me?
That moment with that dragon had been weird.
I didn’t know what to make of it, but there had definitely been some sort of recognition … which was freaking me out a little. Why had Gerard said my mark was different? Why was I a dual shifter? The only dual shifter that had been recorded. Why were real dragons approaching me like I was the dragon whisperer?
I didn’t want this crap, I didn’t ask for this crap, so why the hell was I neck deep in so much crap?
A stare was burning into me, and I knew who it was without turning my head. Braxton had defended me earlier. Generally, he was the most possessive-bossy-asshat of the quads, and yet he had defended my right to make choices. I didn’t face him, but I held out my hand. My heart settled the moment his huge, overly warm palm wrapped around mine.
Touch was so therapeutic for shifters. Braxton’s presence created a chemical cocktail inside of me. Similar to what I guessed a mixture of the human drugs speed and valium did. He calmed me down and hyped me at the same time.
Our group was quiet as we finished crossing the desert. The heat never abated, the sun beating down with intensity. Just as we looked to be nearing the forest zone – which I was really looking forward to exploring – the grays shifted to the left and started to walk along the border between desert and forest. After a while buildings appeared in the distance and I realized what the fifth zone was. It was a city area, right in the center of the other four regions.
As we crossed closer, I could see a dozen or so large buildings and many smaller structures scattered throughout. I’d guess it probably housed the same amount of supernaturals as Stratford, but the city part was a little more condensed.
One of the grays decided to fill the silence. “This is where everyone sleeps, eats and convenes. You will be assigned rooms, and then your personal belongings will be magically delivered.”
“We need to speak with Quale,” I repeated. There was a reason Louis had told us to find him.
Gerard nodded. “I will let him know, but he appears only when he wants to.”
Well that sounded promising.
We hadn’t seen any other supernaturals except the weird fey grays, but once we entered this main center zone, filled with the many varied stone buildings, there were a lot of them mingling around. Old and young alike. I felt joy flitter through my body as I locked in on some of the tiny faces. I hoped this was where all those children who had been imprisoned were now enjoying life.
I was barreled to the side as a group of six young supernaturals rushed through our group. The sound of their laughter trailed after them.
This was what children should be doing, not chained up and locked away. Thinking of what the Four had done had my temper spilling over, rage as strong as I’d ever known searing through me. They had to be punished, it was not right. I couldn’t even think of the years of suffering endured by so many.
Several of the faces which turned toward us were more weathered than I’d expect from supernaturals. And all of them appeared to be distrustful and suspicion.
Cataloguing the inhabitants I noted supernaturals from all five races, including demi-fey, and many more were adults than children. Trolls and gargoyles lined the buildings high up, some made of stone, others wood. They often sought out the high and safe harbors. The gargoyles flew in the light of the moon, spending most of the sunlight hours as stone. I wasn’t sure how it worked in a world which had fake skies, but probably still the same way.
Conversations seemed to cut off as our group strolled along one of the laneways.