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  “It looks good on you,” said Jack, wrapping an arm around her. “Like a golden sun goddess.”

  Alex smiled at him. “Thanks, Dad.”

  “I know it’s winter out there, but I’ve always said we catch more UV in the snow than we do in the sun,” Rachel said, dropping her brush and wiping her hands on her khakis. “We don’t think about applying sunscreen when it’s so cold, but it’s the first thing we reach for in the heat.” She hesitated. “Wait. Do they even have sunscreen in Medora?”

  It was such a mother thing to ask, but Alex had no answer for her.

  “I’m sure they do, Mum.” Alex quickly moved on before she had to invent otherworldly brand comparisons or SPF details on the fly. “I can’t stay long, but I’ve missed you both and wanted to check in and make sure you’re still okay down here.”

  “Okay?” Jack repeated, incredulous laughter in his voice. “We’re more than okay, honey.” He waved his free arm. “Every day we discover something new and fascinating. This place is brilliant.”

  Rachel was nodding emphatically and pointed to the tomb in front of them. “See this sarcophagus? I estimate it to be over five thousand years old.”

  Unlike her parents, Alex had no idea what the expected reaction to such news was. “Uh, cool?”

  “Very cool,” Jack said. “As in, the coolest.”

  There was something greatly disturbing about his repeated use of such a youthful term.

  “Your father is right,” Rachel said, still nodding so enthusiastically that Alex feared she would earn herself a neck injury. “As far as intact sarcophagi go, the oldest one discovered back on Earth was from the reign of Khufu—the second pharaoh of the Fourth Dynasty who we credit as having commissioned the Great Pyramid of Giza. That means the mummified remains inside were around four-and-a-half thousand years old. But this”—she rapped her knuckles on the side of the tomb—“is even older, if you can believe it. You can tell because—”

  “I say this with love,” Alex gently cut in, “but I’m not really in the headspace for an ancient history lesson right now.” Or ever. “I’m stoked you’ve found a long-dead pharaoh, priest, or whoever is inside, but do me a favour and don’t open Medora’s version of King Tut until you’re certain you’re not going to be cursed or anything.”

  Alex was surprised when both her parents laughed.

  “Oh, honey,” Jack said, using his arm around her shoulder to give her a squeeze. “You’ve watched too many movies.”

  “That stuff happens,” Alex disagreed. “For real.”

  “Don’t be so superstitious,” Rachel said with an indulgent smile. “We raised you better than that. And besides,” she waved a dismissive hand, “the Curse of the Pharaohs which acquired the most fame thanks to Tutankhamen has never held up against science.”

  What her mother said was true, but still…

  “Just don’t forget you’re in a new world here. I’ve seen my fair share of the impossible, and a curse isn’t too far a stretch of the imagination—even if it can be explained away as an ancient pathogen or microorganism. So please, just… be careful.”

  “Of course we will be,” Rachel promised. “We wouldn’t want to contaminate the findings, anyway.”

  Alex sighed internally, grateful that, if nothing else, their respect for science would keep them at a healthy distance. That, and she presumed—or at least, hoped—the Library wouldn’t provide them with something to study that would lead to some kind of flesh-eating disease.

  “I’ll try to stay longer next visit,” Alex said, hugging first her father and then her mother again. “Please do me a favour and resist the urge to practise any mummification techniques on yourselves between now and then.”

  Jack chuckled. “No promises.”

  “There never are,” Alex accepted with reluctant humour.

  “Before you go,” Jack said as she started to move away, “how’s your elf situation going? Anything we should know?”

  Popular culture certainly had its hooks in her parents, since no matter how many times Alex tried to explain exactly what the Meyarins were, her mother and father still compared the immortal race to The Lord of the Rings-inspired elves. And they claimed she was the one who watched too many movies. Hardly.

  “No, Dad,” Alex said, lying through her teeth. “Nothing you need to know.”

  She would have to update them eventually, but the future vision was still too fresh. Still too… real. She couldn’t imagine telling them of the danger—not when her throat began to tighten at the very thought of explaining how she’d watched them die. Soon—she would tell them soon. Just… not yet.

  “You stay safe out there, honey,” Rachel said, reaching for Alex’s hand. “And we’re here if you ever…” She trailed off as she looked down, her eyes squinting. “Is that—Did you get a tattoo?”

  Alex yanked her hand back, but the damage was done.

  “You’re not even eighteen yet! Shouldn’t we have had to sign something first?” Jack said, trying to catch a glimpse of the design Alex was now hiding against her stomach.

  “I hope you’re not going through one of those punk rock stages,” Rachel said. “Or is it Goth? Whatever it is, we’ll love you no matter what you do to your body, but please, before you get any more tattoos or begin to pierce yourself in strange places, imagine yourself as an eighty-year-old woman with sagging skin. Over time, I guarantee your attempt at body art will morph from Michelangelo to Picasso. Trust me on this.”

  Alex wrinkled her nose at the mental image that inspired. “It’s not a tattoo. Really.”

  Both her parents raised disbelieving eyebrows.

  “Okay,” Alex admitted as she shuffled her feet in the sand, “it kind of is, but it also isn’t.”

  Rachel’s eyes narrowed. “Next you’ll be saying you kind of experimented with illicit drugs, but you also didn’t.”

  It was at this juncture that Alex decided against mentioning the Meyarin flower, laendra, which at one stage she had—incorrectly—equated as a Medoran equivalent of magic mushrooms.

  “I just mean that, yes, it looks like a tattoo, but it’s actually kind of…” Alex searched for the simplest description and settled on, “… a tracking device.”

  “Like a CIA implant?” Jack asked. “Do they have those here? Is there a Medoran James Bond?”

  Alex had to bite back a groan. For all his love of science, her father was also a huge fan—and conspiracy theorist—when it came to government agencies and acts of espionage.

  “Something like that,” Alex said, referring to the implant, not the James Bond question. “It’ll allow me to send out a signal if I’m ever in trouble so others will know where to find me.”

  “Isn’t that handy?” Jack raised her arm to inspect the white symbol. “I must say, if you’d told us you had a spy device like this sooner, I would’ve slept much easier at night knowing you have people watching over you so closely.”

  Alex decided not to mention that the Beacon was a new acquisition. “Sorry, Dad. But I did already tell you I have a lot of people keeping an eye on me.”

  “That you did, sweetheart,” Jack said, dropping her hand. “But it’s nice to know you weren’t just speaking figuratively.”

  Alex struggled to keep the ‘seriously?’ expression off her face, wondering if her parents thought she’d been pulling the imaginary friends card with them for all this time.

  “Right,” she said, letting it go. “I’m off. Love you both and see you again soon.”

  After they returned the sentiment, Alex walked back out of the room and willed a doorway to appear, leaving the ancient environment behind and stepping through to a now familiar corridor of doors deep within the Library’s depths.

  Taking a moment to compartmentalise her thoughts and focus on the next phase of her day, Alex cleared her throat and called out, “Excuse me, Library?”

  Even though there was no verbal response, she knew the sentient Library was listening.

  “
Is there a way for me to reach Draekora from here?” she enquired politely.

  In answer, a door flung open a little further down the hallway.

  Alex heard him before she saw him, and a smile stretched across her face at the approach of the familiar knight in shining armour.

  “Sir Camden, as always, a pleasure to see you.”

  “Well met, Lady Alexandra,” the knight said with a flourishing bow. When he rose again, he tilted his armoured helmet to the side. “The fair lady doth appear to be… glowing.”

  Alex couldn’t hold back her eye roll this time. “Yeah, I know. I’m tanned.”

  “Nay, Lady Alexandra,” Sir Camden disagreed. “I speaketh of thou vaeliana bond with thine draekon.”

  Alex stilled. “You can see that?” She had no idea how he could see anything, given that he was made entirely of animated metal.

  “Indeed, this here knight be seeing much, like the fair lady hath embraced thou immortal abilities.”

  Alex wondered how he could possibly note something like that, but before she could ask, he continued.

  “Forgive me, Lady Alexandra, but with thine quest to seeketh the ancient kingdom, thou ought know there be no flying beasts left in Draekora. Many eras hath passed since the majestic creatures of old graced the skies of this fair world.”

  “Oh,” Alex said, “I know there aren’t any draekons left.” If only that weren’t true. She would give anything to go flying with Xiraxus right now and clear her head of all her troubles. “You don’t happen to know where they went, do you? Or why? Or even when?”

  Alex had been curious since returning to her time and she’d planned on asking Niyx when next they spoke. But if Sir Camden knew anything, she wouldn’t need to wait for answers.

  “Alas, their fate be not a pleasant tale,” Sir Camden said in a low voice. “After the slaughter of their leader and many of their kin, those whom survived the massacre fled this here world, never to be seen again.”

  Alex’s body locked. “What massacre? Which leader?” She struggled to draw a full breath. “You don’t mean—You can’t mean—”

  “’Twas a sad day for the Sky Kingdom,” Sir Camden said. “Indeed, for all the races of Medora. The fleeing of the draekons was felt by all, but perchance none more so than the Meyarins.”

  That part, Alex already knew. Because of the Z’ao—the draekon tears that created Myrox and myraes and a host of other things. Tears that had been freely given to the Meyarins twice a year until the Draekorans had left.

  What Alex didn’t know was when that had happened. Nor did she know if Xiraxus had survived whatever calamity had befallen the ancient race.

  “Please, Sir Camden, if you know anything else…”

  “’Tis little else I can offer you, fair lady,” he said, “for I know not what led to the grievous deed, nor how events unfolded in the wake of such dire happenings. All this here knight knows is that the draekons hath been gone for many a generation. So pray tell, Lady Alexandra, why dost thou searcheth for their domain above the clouds?”

  Before she could answer, Sir Camden’s body started to vibrate and he held out a finger, asking her to wait.

  While doing so, Alex decided that—for the moment—she would have to compartmentalise the news he had given her. For all she knew, his facts might be wrong. Both Zaronia and Xiraxus, along with the rest of the draekons, could be fine; safely tucked away somewhere after having decided to leave Medora for peaceful reasons. And until Alex had more details from a verifiable source—namely, Niyx—then worrying would do her no good. So rather than obsess over the ‘what ifs’, she instead chose to focus on why she was standing with the knight in the Library and where she was trying to go. Right now, that was all that mattered. It had to be.

  After a few seconds of vibrating, Sir Camden stilled again, and only then did he speak.

  “This here knight hath fallen behind on current events,” he said. “Thou seeketh Draekora not for the sky creatures, but for the Meyarin refugees who hath fled from Aven Dalmarta’s tyranny.”

  Alex’s eyebrows rose. “How do you…?”

  “The Library shares many secrets. One must only be willing to listen.”

  Well, okay then. Alex was just pleased that she didn’t have to recite her story all over again. Once that day had been enough, let alone the numerous times she’d had to repeat herself for the teachers and her friends over the course of the week.

  “So is there a doorway I can use to get there?” Alex asked. “I know there’s only one way into Meya and that’s through Raelia, but I’m hoping since Draekora isn’t technically part of Meya, there might be a way to travel there directly.”

  “Indeed, thou wouldst require a doorway with thy link to the Valispath invalidated at present.”

  That certainly was inconvenient. Alex was actually a little envious of the Meyarins Aven had Claimed since, unlike her, they had their own immortal inheritance to counteract Aven’s exiled blood and could still access the Eternal Path.

  “Unfortunately, you’re right,” Alex told the knight. “So are you able to help me?”

  “But of course, Lady Alexandra.”

  With an about-face so abrupt that Alex jumped, Sir Camden turned and began walking down the corridor. He then stopped almost instantly, causing Alex to jump again when he turned back to her.

  “The path to Draekora, ’tis not like the doorway to Meya,” he told her as he gestured with a gauntleted arm to the hallway. “Unlike the Lost City, there be no protection or warding upon the Sky Kingdom, so we needeth not travel the hallways to reach thine destination. Since thou hath previously stepped upon Draekoran soil, thou needeth only call forth a doorway at will.”

  Relief filled Alex, because until then, she hadn’t known if she’d be able to make it back to Draekora so easily. “That’s fantastic news. Thank you.”

  When Sir Camden didn’t say anything further, Alex fidgeted and wondered if she was supposed to do something more.

  “Um, well, it was good to see you,” she said, retreating a few steps in preparation for opening the door she wanted. “I guess I’ll just—”

  “Before Lady Alexandra travels afield,” he said, causing her to pause her steps, “thou needeth hear how to venture forth in thy next questing journey.”

  Alex’s forehead creased. “My next what?”

  “Thy quest to visit the races of Medora and warn them of the impending evil threatening the lands.”

  How did everyone know what she was planning?

  “Does the Lady Alexandra remember the first day thou happened upon this here knight?”

  Alex barely managed not to laugh, since there was no way she would ever forget their meeting. It wasn’t every day that she was chased by a deranged, headless suit of armour hell-bent on murdering her with his axe.

  “I remember,” was all she said in response.

  “When thou seeketh the old kingdoms of this world, that be the corridor of doorways thou shalt need to calleth upon for thy first foray into the yonderlands.”

  Alex recalled the unending hallway they had travelled together. Each doorway they’d opened had led to fantastical places the likes of which, at the time, Alex had struggled to fathom.

  “But there were so many doors,” she said, unable to keep the trepidation from her voice.

  “When thou ventures there next, the number shalt be much lessened,” Sir Camden promised. “And Lady Alexandra needeth only access the corridor until thou hath familiar knowledge of where to guide thy doorways in the future. Once the first journey hath been made, thou shalt be able to return there again by calling forth a door from anywhere and willing it to thine destination.”

  That wasn’t as bad as Alex had feared. She considered it to be like a Bubbledoor—as soon as she knew where she was going, she’d be able to open a doorway from anywhere in the Library and avoid the overwhelming corridors altogether.

  “And if the Lady Alexandra should require assistance at any time, all thou needeth do
is call upon Sir Camden and I shalt cometh to thine aid.”

  “Thank you, Sir Camden,” Alex said, with feeling. “You’re the best.”

  “As always, it be an honour and a privilege to serve the fair Lady Alexandra.” He bowed again before walking through the nearest wall, disappearing from sight.

  “Uh, bye, then,” she called, startled by his abrupt departure. She was more amused than offended, and she chuckled quietly at the eccentricities of the strange knight.

  “Let’s do this,” she said to herself, straightening her shoulders.

  Seconds later, she summoned a doorway in the middle of the corridor, and stepped through it.

  Five

  Within moments of walking through the doorway, Alex was transported high above the clouds and into a familiar mountain-rimmed valley.

  Nostalgia hit her like a knife to the stomach as she took in the barren, icy wasteland. When Xira had first flown her up to this particular floating island, the meadow of bioluminescent wildflowers had glowed like rainbows in the darkness. But that was all gone now, as if without the draekons, there was no point for life to remain.

  Shivering from more than just the cold, Alex turned away from the miserable sight and towards what could only be described as the Meyarin refugee camp. They had done much in the last six days, including assembling more of the Myrox-lined structures—some large huts, others smaller tents—that made it seem more like a longer-term settlement. But it was still a far cry from the glory of the city they had previously inhabited.

  As Alex wound her way through the shelters, she was relieved to see the Meyarins she passed were no longer shell-shocked, even if their faces remained grim and lined with the horrors of what had happened. She knew that if they managed to move past their trauma, they would be more likely to fight back when the time came. And that was exactly what Alex needed them to do.

  Feet crunching as she tracked a path through the snow, Alex mostly kept her head down as she travelled directly towards the large, circular hut at the centre of the settlement. Murmurs rippled through the camp as the Meyarins began to notice her presence, and soon a crowd started trailing in her wake.