Chapter Twelve – Jack

“One Dragon’s Tear,” Lucas said, placing it in Jack’s hand. “I’m not sure if I want the Council to know I made it or not.”

“Not,” Helena said. “Don’t get involved in this, Lucas.”

“Aren’t I already?” he asked.

“No. We will not tell. The Grimmwold will not tell. Which means if this goes badly, you can walk away clean.”

“Helena is right,” Jack said. “Thank you for making this. But your part is over now.”

“You don’t need to thank me. It was an honor working such a spell. The intricate words...” Lucas stopped. “You wouldn’t understand.” Lucas had been close to slipping into an ecstasy over the spell. Jack could never understand these men who thought more of language and the power it gave you, than people, than family. Most druids would sell their own mother if they were offered a rare spell or ingredient.

“It shimmers,” Liam said, leaning over, staring at the small stone with fascination. “How did you get it to do that?”

“Trade secrets,” Lucas said. “Now, I think I need to go home.”

They were all starving; making the Dragon’s Tear had taken all morning and half the afternoon. No one had left the building while Lucas worked, even though he would not allow them into the laboratory where he was working. Trade secrets was Lucas’s favorite phrase.

“Sounds good to me. I’ll cook something,” Liam said.

“Why don’t you come over to my house?” Helena asked. “I have some leftovers I can warm up.”

“Thanks, Helena,” Jack said. “My stomach loves you.”

She grinned. “I like the company.”

They left the Council Chambers behind and went out into the early afternoon sun. The breeze was cool, but the sun held warmth still. But autumn was near, and soon the forest would begin to go into hibernation as the leaves fell from the trees and winter approached.

The drive back to Lucas’s house was made in silence. Jack sat next to Eva, with Liam opposite; they all stared, transfixed by the Dragon’s Tear as he turned it over and over between his fingers and thumb.

“Does it look like the real thing?” Jack asked Eva.

“It does.” She held her hand out for it, and he gave it to her, trusting her. “The only difference is temperature. The real Dragon’s Tear gave off warmth.”

“The power of the stone gives off heat. Magic is like a living thing,” Helena explained. “This stone is dead, a fake, like a doll or a mannequin. The true Dragon’s Tear is alive.”

Jack glanced at Eva, remembering the words the Grimmwold had said. If this was true, they had to give the true stone to the Council. He had hoped to hand over the fake one and then hide the real stone. Yet the old man’s words came back to him. The Dragon’s Tear belonged to no man, and Jack was a man. Would it corrupt him? Was this why the stone had been hidden so long, and Eva had been sent away by her mom so that she would have no idea of where it was?

Kurt pulled up in front of Lucas’s house and he got out. “Thanks again, Lucas,” Kurt said. The others chorused their thanks, and then Kurt backed up the Land Rover and drove to Helena’s house.

Helena lived in a small cottage in a clearing in the forest. It was a short walk from the enclave where the brothers lived, but by car, it was a ten-minute drive, down tracks and trails that were pitted with potholes. Jack and his brothers had offered to fill them several times, but Helena insisted it stayed as it was, because it deterred visitors. Anyone without a four-wheel-drive vehicle would have to really want to visit Helena to risk bashing in the bottom of their car.

The cottage itself was quaint, built of logs, and blended into its surroundings perfectly. Helena kept a small kitchen garden well stacked with herbs and vegetables, and securely fenced to keep out the free-roaming ponies. Inside was warm and comfortable, with an open fire, over which sat a cauldron that always seemed to be bubbling with either a stew, or a spell.

They got out of the vehicle, but Eva hung back. “Can I talk to you?”

“Of course, is there something wrong?” Jack asked. Helena had gone inside the house, followed by Liam and Kurt.

“I want you to give me the stone. The more I think about it, the more I believe I should do this alone.”

“No.” He started to walk toward the house, the conversation over.

“Hey,” Eva said, grabbing hold of his arm. “This is not your decision.”

“Yes, it is,” he said. “We stick to the plan.”

“A plan I had no say in,” she said, holding her hand out to him. “This is my problem. You live here, you belong here. I don’t want you to be on the wrong side of the Council.”

“And we will be on the wrong side of the Council if Gareth doesn’t hand over the real Dragon’s Tear.”

“No, that’s just it. I’ll swap it. Or you can say he never really swapped it. I don’t know, he messed up or something. Or I’ll make sure they know I took it from him. Then, when my mom is safe, I’ll get it back. I’ll sneak into the warehouse and steal it back.”

“No,” he repeated. “End of discussion.”

“Then I’ll fight you for it.”

“You’ll what?” he asked.

“Yes. Winner gets to do it their way.”

“No.”

She pushed him, but he barely moved, she was no match for him, and she knew it. So what was this all about?

“Come on. Fight me.”

“Eva, what is wrong with you?” He frowned, hands on hips.

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you?” she asked. “You are willing to let your friends, your brothers, go up against the people who have my mom, when it’s not their fight.”

“Damn it, when will you get it into your head? It is their fight, because it’s your fight.”

“I don’t want them to fight for me,” she said. “Not when I can do it on my own.”

“You can’t do it on your own. You won’t get near enough to Gareth, for a start. You don’t think he’s expecting you? You don’t think he isn’t sat waiting for you to try to steal back the Dragon’s Tear?”

She stepped back, as if he had struck her, and his heart ached for her. “I didn’t think.”

“That’s because this isn’t your world.” He reached out for her and drew her into his arms, holding her tight, but she remained rigid. “I don’t mean that cruelly. But it’s true. You haven’t lived with magic; you haven’t lived as a Night Hunter. You will die. And if you die, I will die too.”

“Dramatic much?” she mumbled.

“No, that is the truth, Eva. This bond isn’t just about procreation. It’s deeper than that.” He sighed. “Do you know what the Dragon’s Tear is?”

“No.” She pulled back. “Do you?”

“I think so.” He took her hand and led her to a fallen log on the edge of the forest. All around them life carried on its everyday business. Birds sang to their mates, deer foraged for food, and squirrels leapt from branch to branch, collecting nuts and burying them, ready for winter. He sat down and Eva sat beside him, her hand in his. He wasn’t letting her go. Not now, not ever.

“Will you tell me?”

“I’ll try to remember it as best I can. My dad used to tell us stories, passed down from one generation to another. When my brothers and I were young, he used to take us deep into the forest on camping trips. We would roam as bears all day, and then sit around the campfire at night.”

“It sounds wonderful.”

“One day, we will do the same with our children.”

“Tell me the story.” She brushed him off. He had to accept, Eva was not ready to accept their bond, and so he began the sad story his father had recounted to him.

“The dragons were the most powerful creatures on Earth. They ruled the sky, and the land, breathing fire and bringing ruin. So the druids made a spell, and they cast it on the dragons, binding them to a human female. And so the dragons were tamed.”

He paused, trying to recollect how the story went. “One day, a dragon was out hunting with his mate. She rode upon his back, a fierce shieldmaiden clothed in leather. They landed, and the dragon set about killing his prey, a mountain lion. But the mountain lion wasn’t alone, and the mate of the lion, a fierce male, killed the dragon’s mate. The dragon was distraught, and he wept on his mate, a single tear which turned to stone. The stone landed on the breast of his mate, and it became one with her, and she was reborn.”

“The Dragon’s Tear. That’s what it does, it raises the dead?”

“I believe so. What if that is why they want the stone? To bring someone back from the dead?”

“Do you think that was why my father hid it?” Eva asked.

“I think he knew it was important to keep it safe. And that is why the Grimmwold said it should be returned to the dragon whom it belongs to.”

Her face paled, and a shudder went through her. “The dragon could raise his mate from the dead.”

Jack got up. “We need to get the Tear and give it to the Council. They’ll keep it safe until we decide what to do with it. Your father hid it. Maybe he doesn’t want the dragons brought back.”

“I wish I could ask him, but I haven’t heard his voice for hours. Do you think the others could kill him?”

“No. But they could keep him… I don’t know, hidden.”

“Yes. That’s probably it.” He offered her his hand and pulled her to her feet. “Time to get on with phase two. But first we have to eat.”

She nodded. “I agree. But I still think I should do it.”

“I’m not arguing with you any more, Eva. My decision is made. Let’s go eat.”

She didn’t answer, and Jack knew he was going to keep one eye on his woman at all times. She was brave, he could see that. But she had no idea what she was going up against.

“Would you really die?” Eva asked on the threshold of Helena’s house.

“I believe I would.”