The Dream Keeper's Dragon

2.7 Alysia

Aurelie woke up to the sound of hammering coming from the kitchen. She wiped her eyes and yawned. Peter was hardly ever at home while she was awake. He left in the early hours of the morning and came back long after Aurelie was tucked into bed. Sometimes he remained in his bedroom the whole day and kept so quiet up there that she didn't know he was there unless he dropped something.

He left breakfast on the dining table every morning. Aurelie wasn't sure whether it was because he didn't want her to starve or to snoop around in his house. Naturally, she leaned more toward the latter.

Today, instead of an apple and some biscuits there was a plate of what looked like scrambled eggs, bread, and even a steaming drink. She wondered what made today so different and thought about asking, but then thought to give him his space instead.

She turned to Kirin, and her heart skipped a beat. He was turned on his side. Could he have— Peter must have moved him. Three weeks she had been stuck there. Waiting and hoping that he would stir. When he told her about his father's first attempt at transporting the Dragon King, he mentioned that he was in pain. They had to nurse him back to health but he was awake—screaming and cursing—and able to tell them where the problem was.

Aurelie was relieved that Kirin was not suffering but, on the other hand, if he could just wake up for a moment and tell her where it hurt or what to do, she would have been able to take some action. She would turn Redayrah upside down, gather all the healers, and release chaos upon those who refused to help them. This deadly stillness, she could do nothing about, and it was killing her right along with him.

He had grown thin, and pale. Aurelie walked to his couch and lowered onto her knees. She traced her fingers over his mouth, and up to his eyes, feeling his lids and lashes. Then she closed her eyes and started over. Tears ran down her cheeks. She wanted to remember every part of his face. In case... Aurelie shook her head and swallowed the clot that had formed in her throat.

Her hands continued to trace his features. From the corners of his lips to the cut that had formed on his left cheek. She lowered her chin to his neck and kissed it. A tear rolled down and dropped onto his neck.

Aurelie wanted to hear the beating of his heart. If this was it for him, she wanted to have a memory of the rhythm, of the way his chest rose and fell, and his smell. She turned him onto his back and wrapped her arms around him, pressing her ear against his chest.

"Stay," she whispered. There was hollowness inside her chest that ached. Her insides pressed against it, and like a disease, it spread the pain. She felt as if she had to scratch it out or beat it to feel something else for a moment.

She should have run safer when she wanted to give herself up to the King. Nothing he could do would compare to the loss of Kirin.

Aurelie took Kirin's hand and interlaced her fingers with his. The touch took her back to the celebration that Sasha forced her into, where his fingers briefly touched hers on their boulder. That brief connection sent sparks of lightning through her. Goosebumps rose on her skin as she remembered the feeling of their closeness. She should have kissed him then and there, and every day after. Instead, she bickered with him and held her silly ground, trying to match his distance instead of closing the gap that they both created. Oh, how sorry she was now.

The racket from the kitchen exploded through her ears again. Aurelie let go of Kirin and wiped her eyes. She sat there for a while just watching him.

Something crashed and shattered in the kitchen. Aurelie flinched and heard Peter curse. She stood up and walked to the dinner table. The door from the lounge led to a small hall, and then directly to the tiny kitchen.