Up In Smoke
Page 46
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‘‘Tell her!’’ Aisling said.
‘‘Yes, please do,’’ Cyrene said. ‘‘The suspense is killing me!’’
I looked at Gabriel and waited.
He took my hands, his thumb rubbing over my knuckles. ‘‘The phylactery was merely a vessel, May. The dragon-heart shards cannot be destroyed, not by means within your abilities.’’
‘‘I’m delighted and relieved to hear that,’’ I said, confused by the looks I was getting from everyone. ‘‘So what’s the big secret that everyone but me knows?’’
‘‘The shard must have a vessel. It cannot exist on its own—it must either be a part of the whole, which would provide a weapon of infinite power, and thus cannot be allowed, or it must be safeguarded in a vessel. That is law.’’
‘‘So you have it tucked away in another amulet, but you don’t want me to guard it?’’ I asked, taking a stab in the dark. ‘‘I don’t blame you at all for that. I have certainly proven unworthy of the responsibility of guarding it.’’
The silence that followed was thick with unspoken comments.
‘‘No, little bird. We did not need to make another phylactery.’’ Gabriel’s thumb swept over my fingers in a featherlight touch. ‘‘We did not need to because when the phylactery was destroyed, the shard found a vessel of its own.’’
A chill skittered up my spine.
His eyes bore down into mine, piercing my soul, silver brilliance that filled me with light. ‘‘You are the vessel, mate. The fifth shard of the dragon heart chose you to safeguard it. You are the phylactery now.’’
Chapter Eleven
‘‘I can’t believe I’ve become the dragon heart.’’ I don’t often wail, but I admit that at that exact moment, I found the idea seriously attractive.
‘‘You haven’t. You’re simply the vessel that holds one-fifth of the heart.’’
‘‘You say that like that’s an everyday occurrence, as if it was something unimportant, and yet, here we are—ow—bouncing our way across a dry riverbed in order to consult the most learned source of dragon lore you could think of, in hopes of fixing the situation.’’ I bit my tongue as the jeep jounced over yet another huge bump in the track, sucking it briefly while I squinted through the dusty window. ‘‘Are those wild horses?’’
Gabriel glanced at the small herd of horses that raced across the scrubby landscape, moving effortlessly through the beige spinifex grass, their elongated shadows rippling across earth as red as the sun that was sinking below the horizon. There wasn’t a lot to see in this area, mostly tall grass, small dry-looking shrubs, and acacia trees, but I found it oddly appealing.
‘‘Brumbies,’’ he said.
‘‘Pardon?’’
‘‘Wild horses here are called brumbies.’’
‘‘Ah.’’
‘‘I intended to bring you here eventually,’’ he said, jerking the wheel to avoid hitting a small brown animal. ‘‘Bilby.’’
‘‘Bilby to you, too,’’ I said brightly, feeling out of my depth.
Gabriel laughed and turned on the Land Rover’s lights. ‘‘That was a bilby, little bird. They’re endangered, and nocturnal by nature, so it’s rare to see one out in the open like this. They’re part of the reason why we’re out here.’’
‘‘Out in the boonies?’’ I peered through the grime-specked window, watching the collection of small buildings fade into the distance. The sky glowed reddish orange as the sun slipped downward, casting a lovely amber glow over everything. ‘‘There don’t seem to be a lot of people around. Is it because it’s so arid?’’
‘‘Partially. Lajamanu is a relatively new settlement. The white powers that be relocated the Warlpiri people here, my mother’s family included. There was some trouble, but eventually the people settled. It may not seem like a thriving community, but they’re holding their own.’’
‘‘I see.’’ We’d flown into a tiny airport on a plane that appeared to be held together by nothing but duct tape and hope. The town itself was very small, but I didn’t have time to do much but admire a local artist who was painting a vibrant canvas before Gabriel sent Maata and Tipene off in one direction, the two of us taking charge of a beat-up old Land Rover that had clearly seen better years.
‘‘The Wulaign rangers in this area stay out in the bush and monitor wildlife, including those that are endangered or threatened.’’ We jounced over a couple of deep ruts and chugged our way up the side of the dried riverbed, avoiding a mammoth spiky rock formation as we headed for an area rich with trees. One last ray from the dying sun burst with glorious color at a spot between the trees. ‘‘That’s the river up there. We’ll likely have to spend the night.’’ He slid me a curious glance. ‘‘I never asked whether you liked roughing it. I suppose now would be a good time, eh?’’
‘‘Cyrene wouldn’t be caught dead camping, not for the largest lake in the world, but I have nothing against nature.’’ A large cicada flew in through the window and smacked me on the face. Startled, I instantly shadowed and batted frantically at my face. It buzzed upward, into my hair. I shrieked and tried to cram my upper half out of the window in an attempt to dislodge the beastly thing.
Gabriel drove with one hand while plucking the large bug off the top of my head. He held it in front of me, one eyebrow raised as I deshadowed.
‘‘All right, perhaps I would have never made it as a Girl Scout, but you can’t judge me by my reaction to being assaulted by a large, hairy bug. I like animals. On the whole. And they like me. I just don’t like them flying into my face intent on making me look bad in front of you.’’
The cicada made an odd little chirping sound, just as if it was agreeing with me. Gabriel laughed and tossed it out of the window. ‘‘You’re not nervous, are you?’’
‘‘Oh, goodness, no. What do I have to be nervous about?’’ I looked out of the window again. Dusk was falling quickly, the horizon still streaked with orange and red, but above it, deeper colors were starting to claim the sky, indigo and navy and a velvety blackness that felt to me just like a warm blanket of safety. ‘‘The man to whom I have sworn my eternal devotion has just informed me that I now hold one of five priceless dragon artifacts, which means I’m fair game to every unattached wyvern who would like to get his—or her—hands on it. My temporarily absent employer is doing who-knows-what out in the mortal world. My twin is tangled up in all sorts of messes that evidently only I can unravel, and, oh, yes, I’m going to meet the mother of the aforementioned mate, a woman so knowledgeable about dragon lore that she attracts visitors from the world over. Nervous? Don’t make me laugh.’’
‘‘Yes, please do,’’ Cyrene said. ‘‘The suspense is killing me!’’
I looked at Gabriel and waited.
He took my hands, his thumb rubbing over my knuckles. ‘‘The phylactery was merely a vessel, May. The dragon-heart shards cannot be destroyed, not by means within your abilities.’’
‘‘I’m delighted and relieved to hear that,’’ I said, confused by the looks I was getting from everyone. ‘‘So what’s the big secret that everyone but me knows?’’
‘‘The shard must have a vessel. It cannot exist on its own—it must either be a part of the whole, which would provide a weapon of infinite power, and thus cannot be allowed, or it must be safeguarded in a vessel. That is law.’’
‘‘So you have it tucked away in another amulet, but you don’t want me to guard it?’’ I asked, taking a stab in the dark. ‘‘I don’t blame you at all for that. I have certainly proven unworthy of the responsibility of guarding it.’’
The silence that followed was thick with unspoken comments.
‘‘No, little bird. We did not need to make another phylactery.’’ Gabriel’s thumb swept over my fingers in a featherlight touch. ‘‘We did not need to because when the phylactery was destroyed, the shard found a vessel of its own.’’
A chill skittered up my spine.
His eyes bore down into mine, piercing my soul, silver brilliance that filled me with light. ‘‘You are the vessel, mate. The fifth shard of the dragon heart chose you to safeguard it. You are the phylactery now.’’
Chapter Eleven
‘‘I can’t believe I’ve become the dragon heart.’’ I don’t often wail, but I admit that at that exact moment, I found the idea seriously attractive.
‘‘You haven’t. You’re simply the vessel that holds one-fifth of the heart.’’
‘‘You say that like that’s an everyday occurrence, as if it was something unimportant, and yet, here we are—ow—bouncing our way across a dry riverbed in order to consult the most learned source of dragon lore you could think of, in hopes of fixing the situation.’’ I bit my tongue as the jeep jounced over yet another huge bump in the track, sucking it briefly while I squinted through the dusty window. ‘‘Are those wild horses?’’
Gabriel glanced at the small herd of horses that raced across the scrubby landscape, moving effortlessly through the beige spinifex grass, their elongated shadows rippling across earth as red as the sun that was sinking below the horizon. There wasn’t a lot to see in this area, mostly tall grass, small dry-looking shrubs, and acacia trees, but I found it oddly appealing.
‘‘Brumbies,’’ he said.
‘‘Pardon?’’
‘‘Wild horses here are called brumbies.’’
‘‘Ah.’’
‘‘I intended to bring you here eventually,’’ he said, jerking the wheel to avoid hitting a small brown animal. ‘‘Bilby.’’
‘‘Bilby to you, too,’’ I said brightly, feeling out of my depth.
Gabriel laughed and turned on the Land Rover’s lights. ‘‘That was a bilby, little bird. They’re endangered, and nocturnal by nature, so it’s rare to see one out in the open like this. They’re part of the reason why we’re out here.’’
‘‘Out in the boonies?’’ I peered through the grime-specked window, watching the collection of small buildings fade into the distance. The sky glowed reddish orange as the sun slipped downward, casting a lovely amber glow over everything. ‘‘There don’t seem to be a lot of people around. Is it because it’s so arid?’’
‘‘Partially. Lajamanu is a relatively new settlement. The white powers that be relocated the Warlpiri people here, my mother’s family included. There was some trouble, but eventually the people settled. It may not seem like a thriving community, but they’re holding their own.’’
‘‘I see.’’ We’d flown into a tiny airport on a plane that appeared to be held together by nothing but duct tape and hope. The town itself was very small, but I didn’t have time to do much but admire a local artist who was painting a vibrant canvas before Gabriel sent Maata and Tipene off in one direction, the two of us taking charge of a beat-up old Land Rover that had clearly seen better years.
‘‘The Wulaign rangers in this area stay out in the bush and monitor wildlife, including those that are endangered or threatened.’’ We jounced over a couple of deep ruts and chugged our way up the side of the dried riverbed, avoiding a mammoth spiky rock formation as we headed for an area rich with trees. One last ray from the dying sun burst with glorious color at a spot between the trees. ‘‘That’s the river up there. We’ll likely have to spend the night.’’ He slid me a curious glance. ‘‘I never asked whether you liked roughing it. I suppose now would be a good time, eh?’’
‘‘Cyrene wouldn’t be caught dead camping, not for the largest lake in the world, but I have nothing against nature.’’ A large cicada flew in through the window and smacked me on the face. Startled, I instantly shadowed and batted frantically at my face. It buzzed upward, into my hair. I shrieked and tried to cram my upper half out of the window in an attempt to dislodge the beastly thing.
Gabriel drove with one hand while plucking the large bug off the top of my head. He held it in front of me, one eyebrow raised as I deshadowed.
‘‘All right, perhaps I would have never made it as a Girl Scout, but you can’t judge me by my reaction to being assaulted by a large, hairy bug. I like animals. On the whole. And they like me. I just don’t like them flying into my face intent on making me look bad in front of you.’’
The cicada made an odd little chirping sound, just as if it was agreeing with me. Gabriel laughed and tossed it out of the window. ‘‘You’re not nervous, are you?’’
‘‘Oh, goodness, no. What do I have to be nervous about?’’ I looked out of the window again. Dusk was falling quickly, the horizon still streaked with orange and red, but above it, deeper colors were starting to claim the sky, indigo and navy and a velvety blackness that felt to me just like a warm blanket of safety. ‘‘The man to whom I have sworn my eternal devotion has just informed me that I now hold one of five priceless dragon artifacts, which means I’m fair game to every unattached wyvern who would like to get his—or her—hands on it. My temporarily absent employer is doing who-knows-what out in the mortal world. My twin is tangled up in all sorts of messes that evidently only I can unravel, and, oh, yes, I’m going to meet the mother of the aforementioned mate, a woman so knowledgeable about dragon lore that she attracts visitors from the world over. Nervous? Don’t make me laugh.’’
