She wouldn’t want it any other way. And then Deryn remembered who she was, who she did not want to be, what cost she’d have to pay, and the smirk fell from her lips.
Those thoughts kept her awake, kept her restless. Kept her pacing Ceridwen’s hallways, getting in everyone’s way. The doubts and the fear kept her guessing as, much later, she finally made her way to the Rooster. It was one thing to see and recognize your fate, and another to think you were worthy. And yes, Deryn’s Fate, it seemed, was keeping pace with the timeline that had been appointed for them all, but it didn’t mean everything was predetermined. Deryn had her choice, her free will, and her said will wanted everything and nothing at once. She wanted her sister to wake up. And to laugh like when they were children, chasing each other in the woods behind their house. She also wanted to at least once more breathe with her full chest… But that never happened on this island. Not anymore.
Because you are unworthy…
Deryn shook her head, pushing the thoughts away. Earlier, Ceridwen had pretty much forced her out the door. As the night went on, Rhiannon slept peacefully, the uncertainties around her survival dissipating. Still, Deryn hadn’t wanted to go. For once since she remembered herself, she wanted to stay, yet felt it almost impossible to do so. Ceridwen’s not-so-subtle nod toward the dark street outside was a blessing, even if it felt like dismissal.
Head swimming from uncertainty, Deryn found herself on the streets of Crow’s Nest. The island seemed to sigh heavily around her, the exhalations of the three massive beasts full of smoke and heat. She knew she was being fanciful—her connection to Dragons was tenuous at best these years—butsomething pulled at her ribs, undid her chest, reached for the beating heart and squeezed. The pressure stayed no matter how many deep breaths Deryn took.
She let it be. If magic had taught her anything, it was that letting sleeping dogs lie was the smartest choice of all. Some things were not meant to be known or even understood. In the darkness of the circuitous alley, she flicked her fingers, and sparks danced in her palm, lighting the way, warming her, burning her, easing the pressure just a touch, just enough to make breathing easier again.
When in doubt, choose magic…
Those had been her mother’s words, spoken softly in early morning sunlight beaming through the half-closed blinds of her bedroom. Deryn had watched as Elizabeth opened her hand, and small cheerful flames danced merrily, winking in and out of existence. She had been upset, and her mother had made it all better then, and on many other occasions, until she wasn’t there to do so anymore. But the fire in Deryn’s palm, the exact one Elizabeth carried, warmed just the same.
She knew she should’ve asked Seren for a room instead of simply bringing her gear to Ceridwen’s. But the thought of visiting her mother’s grave and the house where the linen drapes still blew in the morning sun, just as they had when Elizabeth had been the one to wash and string them… That thought made her lose control of her magic for a moment, and she felt the flame burn deeply, leaving a mark that would need salve.
Deryn closed her fingers, extinguishing the fire. No, she had not been ready this afternoon when she arrived on the island, and she knew she wouldn’t be ready anytime soon. Maybe not ever. Seren would have to understand. She knew Elizabeth always did. Her mother might not approve, but she always understood. And so, she’d have to forgive her on top of thatunderstanding. Forgive her for failing back then. Forgive her for the choices she was still to make. For more failure…
In the distance, she could hear the ocean, its low rumble soothing. Deryn smiled. Water was never her domain—in fact, she could barely swim—and yet it was water that often brought peace, both to the unruly, lonely child who had a tendency to run away from home and to the runaway adult who had no home at all.
Still, some things felt familiar, and right now she’d take familiarity over foolish dreams about things she never deserved and probably didn’t even want. Deryn exhaled as she entered the crowded, dimly lit pub. It was the same as always; the years had left deeper grooves in the floorboards, and the smoke painting the brick hearth was darker, but nothing else had changed much.
She really didn’t know why she was here to begin with. Her sisters were back in the pretty stone house with the phthalo green door, sleeping or fretting and brooding. Rhiannon would wake soon; it was Ceridwen’s job to worry anyway, and Seren brooded with the best of them. So why was being around them so suffocating right now? Why was the family reunion, twenty years in the making, driving Deryn out and into the soot-covered night?
She could smell the fire in the air of the island. Dragons was small enough, and the cliffs sheltered Crow’s Nest, ensuring that what happened on its tidy, cozy, cobblestoned streets remained there—like the smoke, like ash. Like heartbreak. Or cowardice.
Deryn shivered as she reached for her beer and took a deep sip. On top of homesickness for a place that no longer existed, not fitting in with the family who loved her, and being back in the space where she felt both alone and too exposed, Deryn still saw the dark amber eyes in the crowd, looking at her, assessing her. She hid her face in her palms and, as her therapist once taught her, made a mental list of everything that overwhelmedher. Then, overstimulated as her mind was, it prioritized the entries.
The woman. THE woman. Was she indeed THE woman, or was Deryn too hyped up on adrenaline and magic?
She needed to leave Dragons. Halloween would be over soon enough, and then she’d be gone. Hopefully. Fingers crossed. And she’d be able to breathe again. Maybe, maybe, maybe Ceridwen didn’t really need her all that much for all that long?
She missed her sisters and her aunt like she missed a limb. And yet felt like she didn’t belong among them at all.
The thought that she might’ve finally encountered her destiny over the flames of her sister’s ruin was not one Deryn wanted to entertain, no matter how gorgeous the woman was. Or how familiar.
And yet… She still felt those eyes on her, lit by fire and rage, wide and stunned, just like her own. Did they both recognize each other? And wasn’t that as good as a confirmation that?—
Deryn gulped down more beer. Not going there… Not yet. First, she’d have to ask her sisters about the identity of the woman. Ceridwen and Seren knew everyone, and if not them, Victoria surely would. Her aunt, the force of nature that she was, would not let her down.
A careless gulp sent Deryn into a coughing fit. She sputtered, trying to regain her breath, fighting for air, and for a second her vision went black at the edges, only to be replaced by deep amber, dark and smoldering.
Could it be? Deryn smiled between tears, then coughed again. Wouldn’t dying from choking on cheap beer be kind of ironic?
Oh, but what a way to go…
