Page 4 of The Healing Dragon
I shake my head, but Roman takes me by the shoulder and pleads with me. “Think about it, Jesse. This is her opportunity to prove herself. She gets a do-over. She brings the book back and will regain her magic.”
I say nothing as I stand there. They both wait for me to react but I fight the urge to give them anything else.
“This will happen with or without you. It’s your choice to partake in the events that will inevitably unfold.” With those parting words, Brandon exits the room, giving no one else a second glance.
I walk straight out of the room with no destination in mind.
“Jesse,” Roman reaches for me but I side step him. “I had no choice. She’s the key to all this. I know it and if you were thinking clearly, you would know it too.”
“Leave me alone.” I let the door swing shut behind me.
I walk with purpose but without direction, or so I thought until I find myself in the middle of a forest opening. I don’t stop there, instead I keep going deeper into the woods. My legs grow tired, but it doesn’t slow my pace. My limbs finallypause before my brain can register that I’m standing outside the Fate’s temple.
I walk into the opening, but before I can cross the threshold, I stop and backtrack. My hands brush through my hair and I fight the urge to pull the strands harder. Nothing makes sense now. I would’ve never imagined myself in this predicament. What am I even doing here?
I feel as if I lost Janelle twice. First when Ray became her soul bond. Then again after the attack. I look at the opening again and wonder if they knew. Have they chosen anything of what came?
If Janelle hadn’t been paired up with Ray, none of this would have taken place. She wouldn’t have helped her father commit such a horrible crime and my grandfather would be here now. The illogical, hopeful side of my brain would like to believe that. The anger that flows through my veins has no target and choosing to place it on Janelle is useless. Despite it all, I can’t help myself from worrying for her wellbeing, however undeserving she is of that.
I turn to the temple and stare at the entrance. I want to see them, ask them questions and most of all share some words with them. I want them to explain themselves. It's crazy to think that I can ask the Fates for explanations but that’s how out of my mind I feel. I know very well they don’t allow just anyone to come inside the temple to speak to them. Even Brandon doesn’t have free reign to go inside when he pleases. The Fates only allow those who they wish to speak with to come in.
With all the anger now redirected to the beings inside those walls, I march to the threshold with no intention of turning back around. They are going to hear me one way or another.
An invisible wall keeps me from crossing inside. I place mypalm on the force field that acts as a door to bar me from entrance and test my magic against it. The instant shock of electricity I get is a clear sign I’m not welcome.
This should be enough for me to walk away, but the anger in my body only intensifies, muddying my thoughts.
I take five steps back and look forward. If magic does not work, brute force might be my only alternative. I rush the doorway with all my might. I don’t truly expect the barrier to give in to my force. Instead, I expect to tire myself out by throwing my body against it. However, when the barrier should stop my momentum, it does not, instead it allows me to cross the threshold, running full force into the first wall of the temple.
My body and head connect directly with the marble, making me grunt at the impact. I lose all strength in my legs and immediately find myself on the floor. My head aches and my arm shoots spikes of pain when I try to bend it.
I sit on the floor for a second before I notice a trail of blood going down my shirt. I instinctively reach for my face and locate the source on the upper right side. There’s a slight cut running down my eyebrow.
“Are you okay?”
The voice comes from nowhere and everywhere all at once. This isn’t the first time I’ve heard it. It haunts the recesses of my mind. The impossibility of her being here jolts me into the present. I get to my feet and look around, but my vision begins to darken.
25 years ago.
The sun’s heat is beating at my skin relentlessly. I wipe my sweaty hands on my shirt, leaving a stain of dirt and blood. I scratch the stain with my finger and grunt when I realize it is really stuck in there. Mom won’t be happy to see this. I can hardly feel the sting from the cut in my hand, but I do feel an ache in my head.Mom might be more upset at my brothers for that than at me for the shirt.
My brothers and I often find ourselves in trouble during our summer stays at the lake, but today might have gone too far. We usually stay away from all forest creatures, but winning a double dare to steal a duende’s floral crown from their door seemed worth it at the time. I didn’t know the creature would chase me down its garden, making me run into the rose bushes.
“Are you okay?”
The question comes from a small voice standing behind me. I nearly jumped at the abrupt question. I can’t even turn to check quickly, so I take a second to turn my whole body to face her.
The little girl must be a few years younger than me. Her blue dress flows around her, reminding me of an angel figurine my grandmother keeps in her winter solstice decorations. The image transforms into something else when I get to her hair. It’s bright red. That is when I realized what family she must belong to. The royal families own the area, and only they and those they invite can access the lake during the summer. The only ones with red hair are the Duelo family.
“Janelle,” I say, assuming it must be her.
There is only one girl in the Duelo family. She gives me a small nod in confirmation. Her eyes move to my injuries curiously. I expect her to be disgusted, but her eyes show something else.
“Do you need help?” She points at my hand.
“How can you possibly help me?” I ask, annoyed that she’s bothering me.
Her smile quickly drops at the tone of my question. Her eyes narrow, and her lips pinch together. Without answering me, she takes my hand in hers and places her palm over my cut. I watch as a small and quick light flashes. When she removes her hand, the cut is gone—completelyhealed.
