Jack was making his way back toward the cabin, his mind still buzzing from a morning spent racing Jimmy through the rocky ravines, when he heard it.
It wasn't the sound of the forest. It was a sharp, jagged sob.
Jack froze. He dropped low, his heart hammering against his ribs. Tourists and "flatlanders" rarely came this deep into the timberlands, but occasionally, wealthy families from the coastal cities would venture out for guided tours of the scenic overlooks.
He followed the sound toward a thicket of dense briars. Pushing through the leaves, he found her.
She looked to be about his age, dressed in fine, dusty clothes that were never meant for trekking. She was huddled on the ground, clutching her leg. Blood—a bright, terrifying crimson—seethed through her fingers.
"Hey," Jack said softly, stepping into the light.
The girl jumped, letting out a stifled scream. Her eyes were wide with a frantic, glassy terror. "Don't... please..."
"I'm not going to hurt you," Jack said, kneeling a few feet away. "I live here. What happened? Where's your family?"
"The trail... I slipped," she gasped, her face deathly pale. "Something moved in the trees. Something huge. It didn't even look at me, it just... its tail..."
Jack's blood went cold. He looked at the wound.
He knew those marks. He'd seen Jimmy use that tail to shatter boulders.
"Stay still," Jack commanded, his voice trembling with a sudden, violent surge of guilt.
He looked toward the treeline. He could feel Jimmy nearby—a guilty, heavy presence lurking in the shadows. Jack stood up, his face contorting with a rage he had never felt toward his friend. He didn't care if the girl saw him talking to the air.
"Come out!" Jack roared.
The brush parted. Jimmy stepped into the clearing, his scales dull and his head hanging low. He looked like a dog that had been caught at the dinner table, but a dog that stood seven feet tall and breathed embers.
The girl, Shane, let out a sound that wasn't even a scream—just a dying gasp of pure shock before her eyes rolled back and she fainted.
"What did you do?" Jack screamed, stepping right into the dragon's personal space. He slammed a fist against the creature's hard snout. "She's just a girl! You almost killed her!"
Jimmy didn't growl. He didn't snap. He blew a long, mournful sigh of smoke that smelled of cedar and ozone. Then, the air around them seemed to vibrate, a frequency so high it made Jack's teeth ache.
"It was an accident, Little Spark."
Jack fell back, hitting the dirt. The voice wasn't in the air—it was inside his skull, echoing like a bell in a cathedral. It was ancient, gravelly, and deep.
"You... you can talk?" Jack stammered.
"We have always spoken. You were simply too loud to listen," the dragon replied, his golden eyes fixed on the bleeding girl. "The guilt you feel is mine. But the power to fix it is yours."
"I can't fix that!" Jack shouted, looking at Shane's mangled leg. "She's dying, Jimmy! She's losing too much blood!"
"Listen to the Enigma, Jack. It is not a thing to be found. It is a thing you are."
Jimmy lowered his head, pressing his hot, dry forehead against Jack's. In that contact, the world vanished. Jack felt a rush of white-hot energy pouring from the dragon into his own chest. It felt like swallowing a star. His hands began to glow—a soft, pulsing emerald light that matched the dragon's scales.
"Place your hands on the wound," the voice commanded. "Will the blood to return. Will the skin to remember itself."
Jack crawled over to Shane. His hands were shaking so hard he could barely aim them. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and pressed his glowing palms over the scorched gashes.
At first, it burned. He felt Shane's pain as if it were his own—the sharp, stinging agony of the scales. But then, the heat turned cool. He felt it—the ancient connection—acting as a bridge. He wasn't just healing her; he was rewriting the damage. Under his fingers, he felt the skin knit together. He felt the veins reconnect and the charred edges fade into smooth, unscarred flesh.
When the light faded, Jack slumped back, exhausted.
Shane's leg was perfect. Aside from the blood on her clothes and the dirt on her face, there wasn't a mark on her.
She stirred, her eyelashes fluttering.
"Go," Jimmy whispered in his mind. "The others are coming. They must not see me."
The dragon vanished into the forest with a speed that left the leaves barely ruffling. Seconds later, Jack heard the frantic shouts of men and women calling a name.
"Shane! Shane, where are you?"
Jack looked down at the girl. She opened her eyes, staring up at him. She looked at her leg, then at Jack, and finally at the spot where the dragon had stood.
"You..." she whispered, her voice tiny. "The gold eyes. You saved me."
Jack didn't have time to answer. A group of men in expensive hiking gear burst through the brush, followed by a woman who screamed in relief the moment she saw her daughter.
As they swarmed her, Jack backed away into the shadows. He felt different. The weight in his chest was gone, replaced by a terrifying, electric hum. He wasn't just a boy in the woods anymore. He was a weapon, a healer, and a freak.
He watched from the trees as they carried Shane away. Just before they disappeared, she turned her head, her eyes locking onto the exact spot where Jack was hiding. She didn't say anything, but the look in her eyes told him everything.