Page 60 of Dark Dragon’s Wolf

“We can’t risk missing vital intelligence because you’re passed out on the floor with your skull split like a dropped melon,” Thorne said. “After we get everything we can from Mayah, you can try reaching the beast.”

By that time, Tristan was past arguing. He was too busy trying to keep his head from falling off. And Thorne was right. Not only was the intel vital to saving Mayah, but all the “ghosts” as well.

Maybe even his parents.

He still wasn’t sure if he’d seen his mother, or if it was wishful thinking. All these years he’d been sure his parents were dead, had given their lives buying time for him and Terin to escape.

It was too much to think about. Too much to hope for.

And too much could still go wrong.

They talked to Mayah twice more, until she’d given them everything she could. Each time, she asked him if he’d talked to her dragon.

Soon, he promised.

You have to, she said. Please.

Why?

I don’t know. You just do.

So Tristan, head feeling like that melon Thorne talked about, lay down on the table one more time. This time to talk to the dragon—if he could find her.

For what seemed like forever, he wandered through dark stone caves and passages, where things rustled in the shadows, and he kept thinking he saw the gleam of eyes out of his peripheral vision.

His brain felt like mush—he couldn’t even call out.

Then, suddenly, he heard other voices calling out, through his mind. Deep, bell-like dragon voices.

Kira and Emon, reaching out with the Al-Maddeiri magic. Calling their sister’s dragon back from her hiding place.

Their voices picked him up, carried him along, refreshed some of the weariness in his soul.

And suddenly he was there.

The cavern was brighter now, dim blue-white globes floating through the air like bubbles. He could see Mayah’s dragon, as gorgeous and deadly as ever, her scales gleaming as the light passed over them. Her eyes were fixed on him, bright and green, with lightning in their depths.

All around the cavern were the same bulky shadows. Ghosts and memories.

“Hey, there,” he said. “How are you doing? Are you okay?”

The dragon seemed surprised at his question, and pleased.

Despite himself, Tristan grinned at the nickname. She added,

He nodded. “That’s pretty much how I feel. Do you know what’s been going on?”

The dragon dipped her huge head in acknowledgement.

Good to know. “Is she really okay, do you think?”

Tristan’s stomach unknotted just a tiny bit. “She told me to come speak to you. That it was important.”

The dragon said,

Um. What? “Excuse me?” he said, as politely as he could.