Page 4 of Wynter and the Stone Dragon

She finally picked the one with the pretty garden. She liked it. There were all kinds of colorful flowers there. There was also water to splash in and a woman like her mama who sang in a strange language.

Wynter closed her bedroom door, then placed the ring in the center of the rug while threading a second ring on a magical chain around her neck. She concentrated on the words her father said to make the rings into windows. It was a pretty spell that he said protected the rings from being used by anyone else.

”Edr-portal.”

The ring floated off the rug and expanded. With excitement, she peered at the beautiful garden on the other side. This was just one of the many places on the strange, new planet that her father had observed. It was in a place surrounded by sand but was also surprisingly lush.

It was nighttime there, but the single moon was bright. Within the garden, a long, narrow pool glowed with the moon’s light. Stars similar to those Electra had created filled the sky and the pool’s reflective surface, broken only by the ripples of the creatures within. Wynter clapped her hands. She liked the fishes in the water. They were fun to watch.

She slid her hands through the surface of the portal. One moment she was in her bedroom and the next she was falling to her knees on a stone path. She pushed up off the ground and wiped the front of her royal blue nightgown.

Scents of jasmine, sandalwood, and roses filled her nose. Wynter held her hand open out of habit and whispered a soft incantation. The golden portal closed and the ring fell into her hand. She touched the ring to the magical chain around her neck, and the chain was suddenly through the ring without her needing to unclasp it. Now she wouldn’t lose her only way home.

Soft sobs caught her attention, and she looked around for the source. She followed the path around the reflection pool until she came to a set of marble steps.

A teenage boy who was maybe the same age as her brother Castor sat on the middle step. His thin shoulders shook as he cried. His head was bowed and his dark hair hung like a curtain around his face.

He was wearing white linen trousers and a thin blue shirt the same color as her nightgown. His feet were bare, just like hers. He had the same olive complexion she did. Next to him was a destroyed bouquet of flowers. Yellow rose petals lay scattered. The stems were split and twisted.

Wynter silently crawled up the lower steps like a jungle cat and playfully tickled his toes. The boy jumped and gasped. He frantically wiped at his face.

Wynter tickled the toes of his left foot again and giggled hopefully. Tickles always cheered her up when she felt bad. He pulled his foot away.

“Man—” he began hoarsely. He cleared his throat. “Man 'ant?” the boy demanded.

Wynter tilted her head. His language sounded the same as the singing lady’s, but Wynter hadn’t learned what any of the words meant yet. She held onto his knee as she climbed a step to settle next to him. She gently captured one of his tears and placed it on the end of her tongue.

Images flashed through her mind. The pretty woman who sang was lying on a bed. She was pale. Beads of sweat glistened on her brow, but she was shivering with cold. There were a lot of grown-ups around her, and they were all speaking in quiet voices. The boy had snuck in to see the woman, and she had reached for him. She had been in so much pain.

“Your mama?” she asked.

The boy frowned at her. He wiped his cheeks with the sleeves of his tunic and nodded. Wynter looked at the building behind him, then back at him.

“Min 'ayn 'atayt?” the boy asked.

Wynter frowned and studied the boy’s face. She liked his eyes. They were a dark brown with long, black lashes. They were sad eyes. She didn’t like that. She wanted to see him laugh, like her sisters and brothers. They were always laughing.

“She’s there?” she asked, pointing to the building.

“Hi marida,” he said.

Wynter huffed with frustration. She wanted to see the woman. She wanted to make the boy happy. Pushing on his knee, she pointed to the building again.

“We’ll go help your mama.”

The boy shook his head in confusion. “'Ayn 'umuk?” he asked with exasperation.

Wynter touched the boy’s cheek, guiding him to look at the shattered bundle of flowers. He grimaced and a flush of color darkened his high cheekbones. Fresh tears made his eyes look glossy.

“Mama,” she said slowly, waving her hands over the flowers and letting her magic flow.

ChapterTwo

Khalid el Amid ripped apart the bouquet he had picked for his mother, and he collapsed onto the garden steps, sobbing his heart out. Just because he was fourteen years old, nobody thought he could recognize that his mother was dying? He would be shocked if she made it through the night. And he wouldn’t be there with her.

The doctor had said it would be best if Khalid left the room. He had fiercely protested, wanting to give her the flowers that he had picked, but his father had ordered him to leave in a harsh voice filled with grief.

Over the last few months, his mother’s health had been rapidly declining, and no one knew why. She had lost weight and none of the tests the doctors performed explained why. Tonight, her breathing had grown more erratic, and her pallor had a tinge of grey.

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