Tropical Dragon's Destiny (Shifting Sands Resort 10)

“So many voices...” Gizelle moaned. “Gathered up at the end like a sonic wave.”

“The voice that told you to put salt on Scarlet,” Mal roared at her. “What did it sound like?”

Gizelle looked at him with terror and misery in her eyes. “Rustling feathers...”

Conall, somehow, furiously, was fighting his way forward as if he was moving through honey, his mate-bond overcoming even Mal’s spell.

Mal released the spell with a sweep of his hand and let go of the woman. Conall went not for Mal, but for Gizelle, sweeping her into his arms protectively. The rest of the staff staggered in place, not sure what to do with their new freedom and new information.

“So many voices,” Gizelle wept hysterically into Conall’s shoulder, trembling violently. “Too many! I don’t understand how to make sense of it! I want them to end!”

“You gave me sound, beloved,” he murmured gently, cradling her close. “Let me give you silence.” He closed his eyes and concentrated.

Relief spread over Gizelle’s face like a sunrise and she went limp in his arms. “It is quiet at the end, past the wave where voices can’t reach,” she said, exhausted and she touched her mouth in wonder. Mal guessed she couldn’t hear her own spoken words.

He met Conall’s angry gaze over Gizelle’s head. “If she’s been hearing the wyrm...”

A gasp made him turn, just in time to see Saina crumple into Bastian’s arms... and Scarlet was suddenly standing among them.

She was solid again, but she was not the Scarlet that Mal knew. Gone were the heels and the timeless business clothes. Her bright hair was loose and wild around her, and her bare feet were a few inches above the moss. She stood for a moment like this, her eyes like feral emeralds, and Mal climbed to his feet.

“Scarlet,” he said helplessly. His dragon seized his heart in careless claws and squeezed the breath from him.

She lives.

Mal knew that he could never lose her again, that he would trade the entire world to save her if that’s what it took, and his chest felt like it would crack from the conflict he faced.

She looked at him, her gaze like a million miles, then blinked. She took a breath—her first—and bent her head with great effort, stepping out of the air and back to the earth. As she took that small step, she was somehow smaller, more Scarlet and less elemental. Her hair twisted itself back and she was dressed again, with short heels and a narrow skirt.

The effort it took was palpable and the Scarlet that remained looked tired and weak. Mal did not need to cast power sight to know that her energy had been drained to almost nothing.

“I didn’t do that,” Saina said hoarsely from Bastian’s arms. “I was losing her. I tried, but I

couldn’t save her. There was... something else.”

For a moment, the only sound was the wind, and the chime of salt-heavy leaves falling; Scarlet’s tree was nearly bare and the jungle was weirdly still.

“My forest,” Scarlet said, swaying in place. “My forest gave itself... there’s almost nothing left.”

“Scarlet...” Mal was at her side, catching her desperately into his embrace.

She was alarmingly frail in his grasp, a shadow of her former self as she clung to his arms. “Mal,” she whispered. “Mal, it’s awake. It’s been awake. You have to stop it, now. This is your chance. I can’t help you.”

Mal’s stomach clenched. “If I go down to fight him now, everyone here on the surface dies.”

He had to shout, because the wind was suddenly howling. Scarlet winced as there was a crash in the jungle and one of the huge trees toppled slowly towards into the clearing. It ripped branches from its neighbors and Mal thought the tearing sounds as it fell seemed like screams.

The ground trembled at its fall, though it came down well away from Scarlet’s tree. Everyone clung to each other, staring with wide eyes, but the earth didn’t stop its growling and shaking as the tree settled.

“More earthquakes?” Jenny said in alarm.

“I don’t think this is an earthquake,” Travis said, with none of his usual light humor.

“If you don’t go down to fight him, far more people die,” Scarlet reminded him. “I’ve met him, Mal. You can’t let him go free.”

“This is just the edge of the storm,” Mal said in despair. “And much worse is to come.”

“Can you make one of those fancy portals to somewhere a little safer?” Breck yelled over the whipping wind.