“Hi. I’m, ah, I’m Zohar. Zohar Reykill,” he croaked. “I, ah, I think I’m lost.”
Chapter Twelve
Zohar stood awkwardly in the shallow pool, drenched from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. His boots squelched with every shift of weight. His white, long-sleeve shirt clung to him like a second skin, and his shaggy, black hair was soaked and kept dripping into his eyes. Water ran in slow, mocking trails down the back of his neck and into his pants, making him want to squirm.
“Well, this is... comfortable. Not!” he muttered under his breath as he climbed over the edge of the reflection pool.
He was just about to shift back into his dragon and blow himself dry when a soft hum of power tickled across his skin.
The younger of the two boys staring at him lifted his hand. Zohar watched in disbelief as the water clinging to his clothes, skin, and hair suddenly shimmered and rose in silvery ribbons that peeled away and floated upward like snakes dancing in the air. He froze, eyes wide, as the water twisted, curled, and flowed cleanly away, pulling the dampness from every spot on him.
With a graceful flick of his fingers, the younger boy guided the glistening water back into the reflection pool. Not a drop spilled.
Zohar’s mouth fell open. “Whoa.”
Juno beamed.
Zohar blinked at him for a second, then grinned. “Thanks. That was awesome.”
“I’m Juno. That’s Dolph. You looked like a wet mop,” Juno said brightly. “I didn’t think dragons liked being soggy.”
“We don’t,” Zohar replied, running his hands through his shaggy, dry hair.
The two boys looked a little like Roam, their white-blond hair distinctive, but Zohar didn’t say so, because the older boy was standing still as stone, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. The shift in energy was immediate. Juno’s carefree enthusiasm vanished as he turned to his older brother.
Dolph didn’t move. “What part of the Isle of the Dragon are you from?”
Zohar’s smile faltered. “I’m… not. I’m not from the Isle of the Dragon.”
Dolph’s brow creased.
“I’m from Valdier.”
“Valdier?” Juno echoed, perking up. “Where’s that?”
Zohar barely glanced at him, distracted by the sheer wonder of the archive. Scrolls, tomes, ancient weapons, glowing maps, and floating crystal spheres filled the room like something from one of his Aunt Cara’s crazy, science-meets-magic projects. He couldn’t help it—he was fascinated.
“It’s a planet,” he murmured absently. “Far, far away.”
Dolph’s shoulders stiffened. “How did you get to the Seven Kingdoms?”
Zohar looked back at him. “My cousin Phoenix. She opened a portal. We were just messing around. You know—school break, no plans, thought we’d explore?—”
The words died in his throat as Dolph’s expression darkened, his jaw clenched, and his voice rang out with sharp authority.
“Juno. Get Dad. Now.”
Zohar barely had time to react before a shimmering wall of water erupted around him. It rose like a living wave, curving into a perfect, glistening sphere that enclosed him completely. Cold mist clung to the inside. His arms jerked outward instinctively, then snapped back to his sides as the sphere sealed with a soft hiss and a faint electrical tingle danced across his skin where his hands had brushed the barrier.
“What the—?!” he shouted, spinning around. “Hey! What is this?!”
Dolph’s arms were raised, his eyes glowing faintly with power. “You’re another alien. Another one who’s come to invade our world.”
“I—What? No!” He slammed his palms against the shimmering containment. It rippled… and then struck back. A current surged from the barrier, lashing at his hand. He cried out in surprise and jerked back, cradling his fist to his chest.
“Listen to me!” he said, panic creeping into his voice. “We’re not here to hurt anyone! We were bored! That’s all, I swear! Phoenix opened a portal, and it went—weird! I’m not here to conquer anything! We just wanted to have some fun.”
Juno hesitated at the door. “Dolph… he doesn’t look like the other alien. That one was scary. Mean. Zohar doesn’t look mean.”
