Hidden Dragon (The Treasure of Paragon Book 7) Genevieve Jack (best sci fi novels of all time .TXT) 📖

Thankfully, Raven was discreet enough not to disclose their conversation. “Just revisiting our days in the dungeons of Paragon.”

“Hmm. I’d think happier conversation was in order considering we are all lucky to be alive today,” Gabriel said. “I think we all owe you extreme gratitude for what you did for us, Sylas.”

Sylas assumed he was talking about his auspicious arrival. The truth was, he’d enjoyed the chance to sink his talons into Eleanor’s back, but before he could tell Gabriel so, Rowan ran into the tent.

“Sylas!” She beckoned him with her hand.

Popping out of his seat, he motioned for Dianthe to stay where she was, then followed his sister out the flap and to the place Nick waited. “There’s someone headed down the hill from Circe’s temple. Nick and I noticed the fires in the palace were burning. There were two silhouettes, a man and a woman. Are you expecting someone?”

“Not exactly.” Sylas frowned. If it was who he thought it was, something had either gone terribly wrong or terribly right.

“You don’t think Circe would allow Eleanor and Ransom sanctuary, do you?” Rowan asked.

“Never.”

Leaves rustled as the new visitors drew near. A commotion behind him announced the arrival of all his siblings and their mates, who had taken it upon themselves to gather in the mouth of the tent, staring in silence at the path to the temple. Dianthe was there too. Why couldn’t she just stay where he told her to?

Still, he didn’t want to cause a scene, not when the new arrivals were so close to revealing themselves. In the falling twilight, a man and a female elf broke from the forest and stood smiling before him. The man, his twin, his confidant, and the rebellion’s long-hidden weapon, spread his arms.

“Colin! Welcome home!” Sylas strode forward and embraced his brother.

Dianthe stared at her mate as he embraced his twin, marveling at their identical features. To be sure, Colin was the larger of the two, not in height but in overall size. The male looked as if he snacked on full-grown elderbeasts between meals. Also different was his hair, which was cut short, almost to his skull. Otherwise, the two were eerily alike, down to the slant of their smiles.

As Colin stepped into the light to hug each of his siblings and be introduced to their mates, Dianthe noticed one additional difference that hadn’t been there before. He appeared to have a tattoo, the pattern of which ran from the fingers of his right hand, along his arm, to just under his right ear. It must have been paint. A tattoo was impossible for a dragon. Their flesh healed too quickly to hold tattoo ink. Whatever it was, the artwork made his skin look carved into reddened waves.

“Colin, you remember my mate, Dianthe.” Sylas gestured in her direction, and she snapped out of her inspection of his arm to give him her full attention.

“Of course I remember her,” Colin said, giving her a swift but warm hug. “She was rounding up new members to join the resistance while you were still making sandcastles and deciding if you wanted to be involved.”

“Oh Colin, you know just what to say to a girl to make her feel needed.” Dianthe couldn’t help but notice Sylas frown at that. Colin had once led the rebellion, but Sylas had taken over for him when he went undercover on a secret mission. Although the nature of his work was unknown to her, she’d understood it was important and could take a number of years.

She observed the woman at his side. She was definitely an elf based on her elongated limbs and subtly pointed ears. The tan-colored robe she wore tied at the waist marked her as a scribe. Dianthe didn’t know much about the order of elves who saw it as their purpose to chronicle the history of Ouros, but she found the woman completely fascinating. Her dark copper hair was braided down the back of her head, and her eyes were the brightest purple, a color that gave off its own light from within her pale features. Surely Colin’s mission must have had something to do with Rogos for the elf to be involved.

Colin turned to the woman at his side and said, “This is Leena. She’s a scribe from the Temple of the Sacred Pools. We owe her our allegiance for the aid she has most selflessly provided.” He patted the bag under his arm and smiled. “It’s big, Sylas. The breakthrough we’ve been waiting for. Where can we speak?”

Sylas gestured toward the tent behind them. Dianthe hung back while the others, who were blocking the door, filed back inside. But when she started after them, Sylas’s hand gripped her upper arm. “You can’t.”

She stared at his hold on her incredulously. “Why the hell not?”

“You know why.” Sylas lowered his voice, his eyes shifting between her and the tent. “We still don’t know the nature of what Aborella might have done to you.”

Her protest halted abruptly in her throat as heat climbed to the tips of her ears. “You’d completely cut me out of the rebellion for some… theory you have about a curse? First you can’t trust my visions, now you can’t trust me?”

“Dianthe, we talked about this.”

“About my visions, yes, but—”

“We don’t know if Aborella’s curse is constrained to your visions. We don’t know the nature of what she did to you.”

“If anything.”

“Everfield didn’t burn itself down.”

Dianthe flinched as if he’d struck her. The shame that she might be the reason for what happened to the Empyrean Wood made her lungs constrict and her stomach fill with lead. She didn’t have the strength to fight him anymore. All her energy had been replaced with guilt and a deep and aching grief.

Turning from him in disgust, she ground her teeth. “Fine. I’ll go.”

“Dianthe…,” he said softly.

Without a single look back, she headed for their tent, the taste of his rejection bitter on her tongue.

Chapter Six