They left early the next day, hoping to avoid trouble. The snow had finally stopped, but the cold had settled in, biting deep and unforgiving. The three dragons shifted into their dragon forms so people could use their belly fires for warmth, their scales shimmering under the early morning light. The rest huddled in the wagon, pressing close to the covered brazier, the small fire barely enough to stave off the brutal cold. Shan had wanted to fly with a rider to ease the load, but the healers refused. Too cold, they said. Too risky. Lonna moved to sit by Jahree, her presence close and inescapable. He’d been avoiding this moment, but he knew it was inevitable. “The others tell me you’re Tamerian too,” she said, her voice low and in Tamareen, the language twisting in his ears like an unwelcome ghost. “I’m Menthanlan,” Jahree replied a hint of defiance in his tone. “And you’re Ertonian.” “So they keep telling me,” Lonna said, almost to herself. “But after all these years, I can’t tell what’s real anymore. What I imagined... or what they made me believe.” She looked at him, eyes haunted. “But you weren’t born here, were you? Raylee helped you escape Tameria, too.” “She helped me escape you,” Jahree corrected, bitterness lacing his words. “And now she’s brought us back together.” “Lanni calls you Jahree. What’s your full name?” He hesitated before answering. “Jahree va Shima Willin tor Saimarta Teymerin.” Lonna shook her head, almost smiling. “Not on Tameria, it wasn’t. You had another name there.” He bristled. “Millnis Jahree.” “Yes, that’s right. I remember you,” she murmured. “Your father... he was Willin, wasn’t he? You were special. The way you responded to treatment... they had me push you harder, twist you into something else.” Her words brought a tightness to his chest. “But you did it anyway.” She met his gaze, lifting her shirt to reveal a massive scar along her side. “They made me. Do you remember the hypernontic bed? When your body gave out, and you couldn’t walk, the Watch beat you for it.” Jahree’s eyes darkened. “And you just sat there. You watched.” “No,” she protested. “There was another boy. I had just put him in when I took you out. I had to help him, too. Once he was safe, I confronted the Watch. That’s how I got this,” she said, tracing the scar. “I went to the bureau and reported him and told them the Watch wasn’t allowed in the lab anymore and that the bed wouldn’t be used anymore because it was too hard on the children. After I was punished for daring to stand up to them, they agreed the Watch would guard from outside the lab. The hypernontic bed was removed from my lab but wasn’t destroyed like I wanted. Someone else was running it.” She continued, her voice softer. “Your mother came to me and begged me to stop. I couldn’t, so I put her in contact with Raylee. I didn’t know she was Mistan Treka , but I knew she could help contact her.” “Raylee is Mistan Treka?” Jahree asked, surprise flickering in his eyes. Lonna nodded. “She was on Tameria for years, helping people escape.” His voice hardened. “If you felt that way, why did you work with them?” She let out a bitter laugh. “Do you think they treated me better than you? I had no choice. They’d have done the same to me if I resisted.” “But you’re an immortal,” he argued. “You have power.” “I’m not like them,” she whispered, almost to herself, gesturing to the others. “Even if I were, do you think I could stand against the entire Watch? They’d outnumber me so greatly, and when they had me again, they’d do to me what I did to you.” His eyes narrowed. “What exactly did you do to me?” She swallowed, hesitating. “I... I took away your magic.” Jahree stared at her, the words settling over him like a shroud. “Magic? I had magic?” He could hardly breathe. She had taken everything from him—his magic, his trust, his family, his home, his childhood... “Jahree?” Lanni’s voice broke through the fog of his thoughts, her head peeking around Marn, who was driving the wagon. “Are you okay?” He blinked, forcing himself back into the present. “We were just... talking about Tameria.” Lanni glanced at Lonna, then back to him, a frown creasing her brow. “Are you sure? You seemed... upset.” “I’m fine,” he said, brushing her off. “We’ll talk later.” The others looked over, their gazes wary. They had been speaking softly, their conversation hidden in a foreign tongue. But tension lingered in the air, heavy and suffocating. “The sun’s starting to set,” Tercala called out. “There are trees here for shelter and a clearing big enough for the tents. Let’s make camp.” Kritalla nodded. “Good idea. I’m sure Loka will need to heal a few frostbitten dragon feet.” “And a tail or two,” Tercala added, trying for levity. But Jahree could hardly feel the cold now. His mind was a storm of memories and half-remembered pain. Lonna’s words had ripped open wounds he had thought long scarred over. And though the snow had returned, it felt like a new storm had begun, raging within him, impossible to escape. #fantasy #magic #dragons #hiddenlands