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She made her way across the square, stepping over bracken as she went. A tall building rose up on one side, looking important even in decay. Merletta entered it cautiously, not trusting the deteriorating walls. She couldn’t tell what the building had been for, not anymore. She braved the stairs and prowled through three different stories without finding anything of interest. Not that she really knew what she was looking for.
She returned to the lowest floor and sat on a moss-covered stone bench to rest. Immediately, there was a loud crack, and she leaped back up with a shout. The stone top of the bench had broken in two. At her movement, a large chunk of it fell to the ground, revealing to her amazed eyes a clever compartment inside the bench.
“Seat and storage,” she muttered. “Efficient.”
She leaned down to look inside the opening, and her heart leaped at the sight of several scrolls of paper, like the one Heath had once found on Vazula. She lifted one out with trembling hands, her eyes wide with excitement.
It crumbled a little as she unrolled it, but the words were still legible. She ran her eyes down it. It seemed to be a household record of some kind, listing such items as “linen” and “silverware”. Not terribly exciting content, but Merletta’s heart still raced at the thought of how ancient this record must be.
The next scroll was more interesting. She unrolled it carefully, scrunching her face in concentration as she tried to read the writing, which had faded drastically with time.
“Dragons,” she breathed. She could definitely make out the word. She bent her head closer.
“Since the dragons departed,” she read slowly, piecing the faded words together, “conflict has increased. Almost a quarter of,” here a few words were illegible, “have departed for…” Again, she couldn’t make out the next line. “There is very little communication between us,” she read out.
She’d just lowered her head back to the page when a distant rushing sound made her snap her head up. She stilled, listening. She knew that sound. All she could hear now was the normal noises of the jungle, but she had to find out for sure.
Rolling up the scroll, she hastened out of the building, back through the square and into the jungle. She moved more quickly than was wise, and fell more than once. But she was always back on her feet quickly. She was only about halfway back to the beach, in a section of relatively sparse jungle, when she heard the rushing sound again. She looked up, and her heart leaped into her throat at the sight of a reptilian shape descending toward the trees.
Or perhaps it was the much smaller figure clutched in its talons that made her heart react that way.
Although the space between the trees didn’t seem large enough, Reka folded himself in with apparent ease, and the next thing Merletta knew, she was blinking at the two companions as they landed gently on the jungle floor.
“Heath,” she breathed. “You’re here.”
“I am,” he said, and something fluttered in her stomach at his grin. It was a little like the nausea that had preceded her collapse during the memorial. “And this time I’ve brought Reka,” Heath added.
“Yes, I see that,” said Merletta, with the ghost of a chuckle. Her gaze moved up to the dragon. “Greetings, Rekavidur. I’m glad to see you again.”
Most unusually, the dragon didn’t respond. Merletta had learned in her time with the pair of friends that dragons generally placed high importance on formalities such as greetings. So she was taken aback when Reka ignored her words, addressing himself instead to Heath.
“I think you mean that I brought you.”
His disgruntled tone sounded a little forced, like he was too pointedly ignoring Merletta. Disconcerted, she turned to Heath. She saw in her peripheral vision that as soon as she wasn’t looking at Rekavidur, the dragon studied her surreptitiously. Unless she was mistaken, his gaze was fixed on her legs.
“What are you doing out here in the jungle?” Heath asked, either not noticing or choosing to ignore the dragon’s strange behavior.
“I was exploring,” said Merletta, too embarrassed to admit to her childish hope about her parents. “And I found something. Look.”
She handed Heath the scroll she’d found. Knowing how he loved old records, she expected him to pore over it immediately. But his eyes remained fixed on her as he took it, and that smile was still lingering around his mouth. Inexplicably, she found herself blushing.
“I’ve missed you,” said Heath quietly. “It feels like a long time since I was here last.”
“It is a long time,” she said, raising a hand to brush hair out of her face. She felt strangely self-conscious under Heath’s scrutiny, in a way she couldn’t remember ever feeling before.
Heath’s gaze traveled from her face across to her arm, and a frown marred his pleasant features. “What happened to your arm?” His eyes raced over her, and his frown deepened. “And the rest of you!”
Merletta glanced down in surprise. She’d forgotten about the welts from the jellyfish stings. They’d long since ceased to hurt, and they’d mostly faded. But they were still visible to a careful observer.
“Jellyfish,” she said, trying to sound careless, but unable to restrain a shudder. “Ileana managed to force me into the middle of an entire bloom of them during my practice test. I’m just lucky these ones weren’t dangerous.”
Heath’s eyes flashed in anger. “I can’t believe Ileana is still on the loose after what she’s done to you. She should be locked up.”
Merletta snorted, although secretly she was pleased by Heath’s defense of her. “Don’t get your hopes up. More likely she’ll be given an award.” She frowned thoughtfully. “Although I think the jellyfish stunt might not have been sanctioned.”
Ileana had looked surly every time Merletta had seen her since the incident, and she’d noticed that the mermaid was training with others her age now, instead of with the higher ranking guards she’d floated among at the memorial.
“How did the practice test go?” Heath asked curiously.
