The Island's Inhabitant

The Return

Morning dawned, finding the adventurers still curled around the smouldering fire pit, sound asleep. The sun's golden rays washed across TeKi's crystal water, causing the air to shimmer with light. Grenua was the first to rise, having been through far less than the others. She glanced at the dragons, suppressing an instinctive snarl of hatred, and decided to check on Zoey's injuries. They should be fully healed by now. As she tiptoed away from the circle, Smoke puffed a bout of steam in his sleep, subconsciously sensing her movements. Grenua ignored him and entered the tower.

Despite the warm summer, the tower was cold, as usual. Up until this point, Grenua had assumed the witch used some kind of magic to keep the stone from soaking in the sun's warmth, but now she realised it remained so cool because of the heavy drapes and thin windows. The carpet, so dark it was impossible to even find blood stains on it, was soft and muffled sounds. Grenua glanced at the chairs. It felt so eerie to her, the silent tower now empty of its inhabitant.

Brushing off the uncanniness and relishing the silence, she climbed the stairs to the second floor and peeked into the bedroom. Zoey lay perfectly still, but she was awake. The deceiver noticed a streak of white in the midst of the girl's black bangs, evidence that the lithilnule had done its part.

"Good morning," said Grenua, and the girl jumped. She turned her head, and when she saw the deceiver, she struggled to sit up and reach for the Sword that wasn't there. Grenua strode forward and pushed her back. "Lay down," she ordered. "You're not well enough."

"What..." Zoey struggled, confused. The last thing she remembered clearly was pain and her brother's face. After that it all became a muddled mess of light and dark, silence and sound.

Grenua leaned over Zoey and pulled off the bandages she had dressed the shoulder with. "You remember the fight?"

"The one with the angelics or the one with Tatl?"

Grenua winced at the name. "You remember then. I healed your injury, but you're still quite weak."

"We need to get to Jack," demanded Zoey, struggling to sit up again. Grenua held her down firmly.

"Hold still!"

"What are you doing to her?" yelled Edward, suddenly appearing behind them. Grenua jumped in surprise and wheeled on the prince. His eyes, though still blurred by sleep, blazed with distrust.

"What am I doing—!" spat Grenua. "I saved her life, and I still get no trust from you. What will it take, princeling?"

Edward ran to Zoey's side. "Zoey, are you ok? Was she hurting you?"

Zoey stared at him. "N-No, I don't think so, but..." She tried to sit up yet again, and this time Grenua stepped back, rolling her eyes and sighing exasperatedly. Edward supported Zoey's back. She groaned. "Ugh, I feel terrible. Edward, we need to find Jack."

Edward nodded. "I know, but Zoey... we have to make sure you are okay first."

"She can't be moved for at least a week," stated Grenua stubbornly.

"We've got to go!" cried Zoey.

"What is going on up here?" asked Denver from the doorway. "The dragons are going haywire and Aurlin told me to get up here before someone gets hurt!"

Zoey stared at her uncle. "Aurlin?"

"The ground-crusher," explained Edward. 

She closed her eyes and exhaled exhaustively. "I remember a dragon right before I passed out. You were riding it."

"That was Smoke. They joined us in the battle against the deceivers, right after the angelics carried you off."

Zoey shuddered at the memory, then grabbed her shoulder. "My arm!" she cried, half expecting it to be gone and completely surprised to find it almost healed. She tried to squint at it but a sudden headache sent nausea through her stomach and up her throat.