The twins still looked unconvinced, and Heath felt a surge of alarm.
“I promised,” he said earnestly. “I promised her I wouldn’t reveal their existence. They truly want isolation. Please, can you trust me in this?”
Brody and Bianca nodded reluctantly, and Heath let out a breath. He could tell this wasn’t the last he would hear of the matter, but he would take what he could get for now.
He spent a few more days at Bexley Manor, entertaining his cousins in the way they’d expected when they first joined him. He fully intended to try again to reach Vazula the following week, and spent the time gearing himself up to contact Rekavidur.
But when he rose on the morning of Merletta’s next rest day, Heath felt a creeping sense of unease. Before attempting to call Reka, he thought he’d better see if he could use his extra sight to check whether Merletta was going to the island.
Unfortunately, he was still far from mastering the new skill. He sat on the edge of his bed, focusing his mind on the thought of Merletta. He could see nothing. He tried picturing the island instead, but he was almost certain that the image before his eyes was simply his memory of what Vazula looked like.
He sighed, rubbing the heels of his hands over his eyes. Then he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he again tried to picture Merletta. Unbidden, the memory of her hand splayed against the scar on his side leaped into his mind. His skin seemed to tingle from the remembered touch, and heat raced up his neck. He felt again the intoxicating new warmth of her skin, saw in memory the sand speckled across her cheeks, and the drops of water clinging to her dark eyelashes. With her usual lack of self-consciousness, she had stood so near that if he’d leaned his head down, their foreheads would have been touching.
He drew in a sharp breath as her face flashed before his eyes. This time it was no memory, it was an actual sight of her.
But it was so fleeting he couldn’t glean much from it. It was murky again, like it had been when he’d seen her during his time in Kynton. He realized in amazement that the change was probably because she was underwater. She’d been on Vazula for a month after his accident. No wonder his visions of her had been clear instead of obscured back in those first weeks. His eyes, sharp as they might be, were not accustomed to looking through deep water.
But it wasn’t just the murkiness of the image that was troubling. Merletta hadn’t looked right, the general impression being one of illness or pain. Heath felt anxiety curl in his stomach. Had she been attacked after all? Had whoever was behind the Center’s deceptions decided it was safer to get rid of her?
But she was alive, that much seemed certain. Surely if they’d decided to kill her off, they would be able to achieve it with ease. He screwed his eyes shut, trying to block out all distractions as he again focused on the thought of Merletta.
Nothing.
Heath groaned, flopping back across his bed. Why had it been so much easier on the ship?
He hesitated, uncertain of what to do. Should he still try to get to Vazula, in case Merletta was going? He didn’t get the sense she was up to a long journey, but he had no idea if he was reading what he’d seen correctly.
He cleared his throat. “Reka?” His voice was soft, although of course that was irrelevant. “Reka, are you listening?”
He waited, straining his mind to see Reka the way he’d done on the hilltop outside Bryford. But his extra sight was still uncooperative.
“Reka,” he persisted, “I don’t know if you were watching me, if you already know everything that happened. I want to tell you about it in person. I want…I want to go there together. I want to fix this.”
He hesitated, remembering the bitter words he’d thrown at the dragon only months ago. He’d said he would never forgive Reka, and the dragon wasn’t likely to have forgotten that. But all at once Heath realized that his anger toward Reka hadn’t just faded. It had disappeared. He wasn’t sure if it was his grandmother’s cryptic hints, or the fact that Merletta was alive after all, or perhaps some combination of the two. But his resentment for Reka was gone, only the years of companionship remaining. The deep loneliness he’d been denying for weeks rushed in, and he finally admitted to himself how much he missed his friend. His grandmother was right. He’d be an utter fool to throw away a friendship so rare and powerful.
“I’m not giving up,” he said stubbornly. “I’ll travel to Wyvern Islands if I have to. I know for sure now that I can pass through a magic barrier without you. But it would be a lot easier if you came here, and saved me the trouble.”
He waited hopefully, but his eyes saw nothing but the room before him. He went about his day, his heart growing heavier as no reptilian shape appeared in the sky.
Heath swallowed his disappointment, determined not to show his cousins anything but a cheerful face. He’d moped enough for a lifetime in the last few months. It was time to pull himself together and do something useful.
In pursuit of that goal, he announced to Brody and Bianca that he was ready to leave for Bryford again whenever they were.
“I thought you weren’t expected back until next week,” Bianca said, surprised.
Heath shrugged. “I’m not, but I’ve done what I came home to do. It’s time for me to focus on the role King Matlock has given me. Percival’s loyalty ceremony is only a couple weeks away.” He frowned. “I hope he hasn’t been getting himself into trouble while I’ve been distracted.”
Brody chuckled. “You do realize you’re the younger brother, don’t you? You’re as bad as Percival was when you were injured.”
“No he’s not,” said Bianca dryly. She gave Heath a reproachful look. “Percival was completely unmanageable when he thought your life was in danger.”
Heath sighed. “That’s probably the first time I’ve ever been the one needing looking after, so I’m not surprised he didn’t know what to do with himself.”
The three of them left early the next morning, reaching Bryford before noon. Heath rode through the city gates with mixed emotions. He was frustrated to be riding away from Vazula, but on the other hand, he was much more cheerful than he’d been last time he was in the capital. He was still deeply concerned about Merletta’s safety, knowing that she was balanced on a knife’s edge in her training program. But the discovery of her survival had pulled him from the spiral of grief and guilt that had been crippling him since he nearly died on the abandoned island. Merletta’s ongoing danger notwithstanding, now that he was looking around with fresh eyes, he found he had much more attention to spare for the challenges facing his own kingdom.
He didn’t follow his cousins to the castle, where they were staying, but rode on to his family’s city residence. He had barely handed his horse over to a groom when he heard himself hailed.
“Heath!”