Mari Mancusi - Scorched

Trinity drew in a breath. She remembered how blown away she’d felt the first time she’d laid eyes on the egg under the glass case in the Millennium Chamber. But that was nothing compared to how she felt now, as she watched the egg trap the chamber’s light and toss it around in a kaleidoscope of color. Emmy was more beautiful than ever—luminous and glowing and ethereal. But it was not her shell’s outer brilliance that brought tears to Trin’s eyes—rather the slight movement, the desperate struggling, just beneath the now translucent surface.

Is that you, Emmy? she whispered, mesmerized by the dark, dragon-shaped shadows. Is that really you?

“Thank God you’re here.” Trin turned to see Mara on approach. The Birth Maiden’s eyes were vivid but frightened.

“What’s wrong with her?” Trinity asked worriedly. Her eyes searched the egg, catching the hairline fracture at the top. She stepped forward, reaching out to trace the crack with a soft finger, warm water sluicing over her hand. But the warmth was short-lived as she felt Emmy’s chill of terror wash over her. Her stomach clenched.

“We don’t know,” Mara confessed, giving her a helpless look. “I’ve assisted in countless dragon births over the years. But the equipment we have to work with here is practically prehistoric—it can’t tell me what I need to know. All that I can tell is that she’s trying to break free of the egg, but she’s not having any luck. Maybe the shell hardened somehow, by being in the ice so long. Maybe its composition changed after so many years. All I know is the baby dragon’s struggling. And her vital signs are weakening. If we don’t get her out now, she’ll likely die before she can ever be born.”

Trinity cringed and pressed her palm flat against the egg, closing her eyes. Somehow she knew it was up to her. That she was the only one who could save the dragon now.

Or you could end it all, a quiet voice tugged at the back of her brain. This is the perfect opportunity—they’d never know it was you.

Her pulse raced as she stole a glance around the room—at the men and women all around her. The dragon sympathizers who had inadvertently sparked an apocalypse once upon a time in another future. Caleb promised that they had the best intentions, that they knew what they were doing this time around—that by saving dragons they would save the world.

Save the world? the voice whispered. Or leave it vulnerable to attack?

Her mind flashed back to Connor and his talk of the Scorch. Of his father, burned alive by dragon’s breath. Of the vision he’d shown her: the screams of agony, the smell of burning flesh, the shadows falling, never to rise again. The entire world all but destroyed because of one single egg.

This one, single egg.

What if the Dracken couldn’t stop history from repeating itself no matter what their intentions? Would keeping Emmy alive be putting the entire human race at risk?

Once she’s born, it’ll be too late, the voice whispered. You’ll be as hunted as she is. Your life forces intertwined. And if anything happens to the world—like it did the first time around—it’ll be your fault.

She pulled her hand away and felt the eyes of the Dracken shift in her direction, watching, waiting to see what she would do. Pressure started to expand inside her chest, building and pushing against her ribs until she felt as if she were going to explode.

She could end this all now and hope for the best. And maybe the Dracken predictions were wrong. Maybe mankind would find a way to survive without the dragons’ gifts. At least they wouldn’t be burned alive. At least the earth would remain intact.

But what about Emmy?

She closed her eyes, remembering her flight through the Nether. The majestic dragon, soaring through the skies, brave and beautiful, her eyes bright and her head held high. She’d carried Trin on her back. She hadn’t let her fall. Didn’t Emmy deserve the same chance now? The chance to live her life? The chance to fly free?

Emmy didn’t start an apocalypse. She didn’t burn the world to the ground. It was man who caged her, tortured her, stole the spark from her eyes. Man who robbed her of her dragon’s dance and created monsters from her DNA. Emmy didn’t bring about the end of the world—man did, with his lust for war and power. And who was to say he needed dragons to do it the next time around?

Trin shook her head. In the end, she realized, this wasn’t a question of whether dragons would save the world or tear it apart. It didn’t matter what destruction they might bring or what gifts they might offer. This was about a life—one single, precious life, struggling to enter the world. Emmy was pure; she’d committed no folly. She had caused no harm. Her life should not be held forfeit to pay for mankind’s sin.

There was no more decision to make. Trin pressed her hand against the egg once again. Are you there, Emmy?

Nothing. She pulled the egg from the basin, out of the water. A few of the Dracken jumped in alarm, but Mara held out a hand. “Let her try,” she told them. They reluctantly stepped back. Trin took Emmy and brought her to the floor, cradling her in her lap.

Emmy? Can you hear me?

Still nothing. Then…

Trinity?

Her heart leapt. She was alive!

Yes, Emmy! I’m here. Are you okay?

So…weak. So…tired.

As Trin rolled her hand over the egg, stroking it gently, she felt an overwhelming exhaustion come over her. Emmy’s exhaustion, she realized, threatening to crush her with its intensity. But she forced herself to swallow it back, gritting her teeth with the effort.

Listen to me, Emmy. You can rest later. Right now, I need you to fight. You must break through your shell.

I can’t do it. I’m not strong enough.

Then take my strength instead. Take whatever you need. The Potentials had been able to push comfort to Trin’s mind back in the food court. Surely she’d be able to do the same, giving her dragon the strength she required.

Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you.

I’m sure. In fact, Trinity had never been so sure of anything in her life.

She emptied her mind, sweeping all the doubts and insecurities away, preparing to give everything she had inside to the dragon and then some if need be. At that moment, she told herself, she was no longer Trinity Foxx, broken orphan of West Texas. She was the Fire Kissed. The one Emmy had chosen out of all the others. And Trinity wasn’t about to let the dragon down.

Emmy hadn’t let her fall. Now it was Trin’s turn to return the favor.

Do it, Emmy! she cried. Break free! She pushed with all her might.

And then the pain came. Excruciating, all-encompassing agony, lashing at her insides and stealing her breath away. Her muscles clenched and her eyes lost focus, sharp screws drilling into her brain while a thousand spiders crawled up and down her skin. She was sure, at one point, she would pass out from it all.

But instead she fought it, refusing to give up on her dragon. Clinging to consciousness as hard as she clung to the egg. Bright lights popped in and out of the room and a strange wailing sound echoed in her ears. It took her a moment to recognize it as screaming. Another to realize it was coming from her own lips.

“Her vital signs are weakening!” she heard somewhere in the distance.

“She’s not going to make it,” another voice cried. Trinity didn’t know if they were talking about the dragon or her. Or maybe both.

She turned her attention back to the egg. Why wasn’t it working? She was giving all she had and it still wasn’t enough. Emmy still wasn’t breaking free. She reached out to the dragon, combing her mind, desperately trying to figure out what was wrong. Why she still was too weak to—