a name you'd like to give him?"
She shook her head. "He is your son, Bastian. You should name him."
Bastian looked down at the little baby, his mouth set in a blissful smile and his eyes gently closed. "I'd like to name him after my uncle. He was the physic here in Hutton's Bridge. He cared for everyone from birth to the grave. Adam. What do you think?"
Pia smiled. "I like that."
"It's not as good as Goat," Farah said, a scowl on her face.
"Adam," Bastian said. "It's settled. Your name is Adam."
To show his appreciation, baby Adam spit up, leaving milk all over Bastian's sleeve.
"I think he hates it!" Farah said, laughing. "Should have named him Goat."
Bastian wiped his son's chin again, purposely ignoring Farah. He wished he could feel as light as she did, but the reality of the world outside Hutton’s Bridge weighed heavy on his hear. Bastian hoped his son would grow up in a Dragonlands filled with peace, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something out there was watching them.
Chapter Three
Tressa lay in bed, her head resting on a fluffy pillow. Her dark hair spread out in a fan. Her hands were in fists at her sides. Her eyes were squeezed shut so tightly that her tears had nowhere to go.
"You must get up," Granna insisted. "You can't wallow down here forever."
"I can," Tressa responded. "And I will."
"You lost your dragon. Fi is dead. Jarrett is missing. Bastian is having a child with another woman. I know all of these things are making it difficult to get out of bed and put one foot in front of the other, but you must." Granna shook Tressa's shoulders. When that failed to rouse her, Granna tugged on her hair.
"Ow!" Tressa exclaimed as she shot upright. She opened her swollen, stinging eyes, and glared at her great-grandmother. "That was uncalled for."
"That is the least of what you deserve," Granna said. She stood and paced Tressa's room. "When you arrived in the middle of the night all those months ago, I was sure we'd lost you for good. When you plummeted into that cave, crashing in a heap, legs folded under you, wings broken and bloody, I thought that was the end. But, no, Tressa, you changed back into a human. You healed."
"And I’ve never changed into my dragon again," she said, bitterness lacing her words. "It's gone."
"You thought it was gone forever when you were in Desolation, but it came back. Why not again?" Granna asked. She stopped her pacing to pour two cups of tea.
Tressa took one, wrapping her hands around the delicate porcelain. Warmth spread up her arms. "It feels different this time. I feel... empty."
"That could just be your emotions." Granna settled in a chair carved from an old tree stump. "You have been through so much since leaving Hutton's Bridge a couple years ago. Now that you’ve had time to catch your breath, you're bound to feel different."
"It's not that," Tressa said. "You know it as well as I do. The dragon is gone. Forever. Whatever Donovan did to me in Desolation is now permanent. He claimed I could regain my dragon by drinking dragon blood, but we both know that isn't the case. My teeth are stained pink from all of the dragon blood I've drunk since coming back here." Tressa's lips curled backward, to show her great-grandmother.
Granna sighed. "I know, I know. We have tried everything in our power to help you, Tressa. You have two choices. You can continue to drink and hope that one day you will sprout wings again, or you can choose to give up on the dragon and be just as you were before. You spent most of your life without a dragon. You can go back to who you were. There was nothing wrong with who you were before."
Tressa threw the teacup at the wall. It shattered into thousands of tiny pieces. "I don't want to be who I was before leaving Hutton's Bridge." She thought back to the meek girl who was hopelessly in love a boy she could never have. That girl didn't know how to fight. That girl hadn't traveled the length and breadth of the Dragonlands and
She shook her head. "He is your son, Bastian. You should name him."
Bastian looked down at the little baby, his mouth set in a blissful smile and his eyes gently closed. "I'd like to name him after my uncle. He was the physic here in Hutton's Bridge. He cared for everyone from birth to the grave. Adam. What do you think?"
Pia smiled. "I like that."
"It's not as good as Goat," Farah said, a scowl on her face.
"Adam," Bastian said. "It's settled. Your name is Adam."
To show his appreciation, baby Adam spit up, leaving milk all over Bastian's sleeve.
"I think he hates it!" Farah said, laughing. "Should have named him Goat."
Bastian wiped his son's chin again, purposely ignoring Farah. He wished he could feel as light as she did, but the reality of the world outside Hutton’s Bridge weighed heavy on his hear. Bastian hoped his son would grow up in a Dragonlands filled with peace, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something out there was watching them.
Chapter Three
Tressa lay in bed, her head resting on a fluffy pillow. Her dark hair spread out in a fan. Her hands were in fists at her sides. Her eyes were squeezed shut so tightly that her tears had nowhere to go.
"You must get up," Granna insisted. "You can't wallow down here forever."
"I can," Tressa responded. "And I will."
"You lost your dragon. Fi is dead. Jarrett is missing. Bastian is having a child with another woman. I know all of these things are making it difficult to get out of bed and put one foot in front of the other, but you must." Granna shook Tressa's shoulders. When that failed to rouse her, Granna tugged on her hair.
"Ow!" Tressa exclaimed as she shot upright. She opened her swollen, stinging eyes, and glared at her great-grandmother. "That was uncalled for."
"That is the least of what you deserve," Granna said. She stood and paced Tressa's room. "When you arrived in the middle of the night all those months ago, I was sure we'd lost you for good. When you plummeted into that cave, crashing in a heap, legs folded under you, wings broken and bloody, I thought that was the end. But, no, Tressa, you changed back into a human. You healed."
"And I’ve never changed into my dragon again," she said, bitterness lacing her words. "It's gone."
"You thought it was gone forever when you were in Desolation, but it came back. Why not again?" Granna asked. She stopped her pacing to pour two cups of tea.
Tressa took one, wrapping her hands around the delicate porcelain. Warmth spread up her arms. "It feels different this time. I feel... empty."
"That could just be your emotions." Granna settled in a chair carved from an old tree stump. "You have been through so much since leaving Hutton's Bridge a couple years ago. Now that you’ve had time to catch your breath, you're bound to feel different."
"It's not that," Tressa said. "You know it as well as I do. The dragon is gone. Forever. Whatever Donovan did to me in Desolation is now permanent. He claimed I could regain my dragon by drinking dragon blood, but we both know that isn't the case. My teeth are stained pink from all of the dragon blood I've drunk since coming back here." Tressa's lips curled backward, to show her great-grandmother.
Granna sighed. "I know, I know. We have tried everything in our power to help you, Tressa. You have two choices. You can continue to drink and hope that one day you will sprout wings again, or you can choose to give up on the dragon and be just as you were before. You spent most of your life without a dragon. You can go back to who you were. There was nothing wrong with who you were before."
Tressa threw the teacup at the wall. It shattered into thousands of tiny pieces. "I don't want to be who I was before leaving Hutton's Bridge." She thought back to the meek girl who was hopelessly in love a boy she could never have. That girl didn't know how to fight. That girl hadn't traveled the length and breadth of the Dragonlands and
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