Bastian’s face flashed in her mind. Tressa jerked her hand away. "Sorry," she said, backing up. "It's just that—”
She paused, and Jarrett looked at her expectantly. That same trusting look in his eyes. She opened her mouth, taking a deep breath, ready to tell him, despite whoever might be listening in. "While I was in Hutton's Bridge last night—”
"Are Bastian, Elinor, and Connor okay?" Jarrett interrupted. His eyes narrowed and his shoulders slumped. "I still don’t remember what I did on the Isle of Repose." He spun around, stalking back to his chair. "I wish I hadn't taken them to that damned island." He rested a hand on the back of the chair, gripping it until his knuckles turned white.
She rested her hand atop his. "Jarrett, they know that." Well, Bastian and Elinor knew it. Connor would have more trouble understanding, but no one would ever hold it against him if he couldn't forgive Jarrett. Tressa doubted Jarrett would ever forgive himself.
Jarrett didn't, or wouldn't, turn and look at her. "I wish I could help. Somehow make it up to them."
Tressa leaned her head on his arm. She thought of everything that had happened since he'd called her to that island. "Wait. I think I know a way you can help."
Jarrett turned, his eyes sad, but hopeful.
"When you compelled me to the Isle of Repose, you used magic unlike anything I've ever seen from you," Tressa said.
Jarrett nodded. "I don't think it was fully me. Whoever was controlling me used my body as a vessel for his power."
"That's what I thought," Tressa said. Despite everything, a smile slipped out.
"I think I have an idea,” Jarrett said. “What if we lure the Red army to the Isle of Repose. Do you think I could help us destroy them?"
Tressa's head was swimming with possibilities. The Black could station themselves in the Meadowlands. With only a signal, they could fly to the Isle, using Jarrett’s magic to attack the Red. Obviously it was stronger when he was on the island. Though, it would be risky. Lives could be lost, but in war, lives were to be lost anyway.
They could all be free.
"It might work," Tressa said, her voice guarded and hesitant. "But what if you can't control yourself? What if you hurt another innocent?"
Jarrett flashed a smile. "I won't. Not again. I know I won't.”
“Okay,” Tressa said. “I'm going to talk to Granna about this." She'd started to tell him about Bastian and she was too heartsick to try again after he'd changed the topic. The last thing he needed now was to add her indiscretion to his sadness. No, not now. It wasn't time. "I need to prepare to leave for the Meadowlands. Get some rest. Someone will come for you when it’s time to fly.”
Jarrett leaned over, kissing Tressa. "I love you.”
"I love you, too," she said. Tressa left the room, slightly sick to her stomach. She didn't deserve a man like Jarrett. He was upstanding and honest. She was nothing. Worse than nothing for betraying him.
***
Jarrett sat back down on the chair, picking up the book he'd been reading. He closed his eyes. He didn't need to read it. Not now. He'd learned everything about becoming a mage in a short time. The spells. How to prepare his body and mind. Using stealth and trickery to get what he wanted. It was all engrained in him.
All thanks to his master on the Isle of Repose.
Jarrett, my pet, have you done it? Have you convinced the dragons to come to my island so we can finally dispose of all of them?
"Yes, master," he answered.
A voice cackled deep inside Jarrett's mind. Soon it would be over. There would be no more war. All the dragons would be dead and Tressa’s death would be the most delicious.
Chapter Forty-Two
Mages from the Black held hands and chanted until the invisible wall became visible. Tressa gasped as the Green dragons disappeared momentarily. Then the solid white wall, glittering with veins of magic, exploded, dissipating into the air. The smoke cleared and one Green dragon took a tentative step forward. One claw crossed the line where the barrier had stood. Then another, until all three of his claws moved beyond.
Next, a foot. Then another, until he was tripped up by a smaller dragon bounding over him, tumbling across the grass and landing at Tressa's feet. The little dragon popped up, swirled in the air, and landed on human feet, her dress swishing at her ankles.
"You did it!" Margret yelled and clapped, dancing.
Tressa reached out for the young girl. "It's all thanks to you. You're the one who found me on the beach. If you hadn't told me everything, then I wouldn't have been able to come back and free you. You deserve all the praise."
Margret's cheeks turned pink. She hugged Tressa.