Dragons Awakening
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT: An Unwelcome Vision

Watery sunlight pierced the veneer of clouds overhead. Zi scrambled over the rutted path, returning to the vehicle while Ezer trained Akolo. The spike in her blood pressure had more to do with watching them work together when she couldn’t hear their exchanges than scrambling down the mountain trail. Nothing like being as useful as an extra bolt in the to-be-assembled mechanism.

Ash no longer cascaded like unseasonal snowfall, so Zi pulled the mask off. A lingering hint of sulfurous fumes remained: a reminder of the problems still ahead. She emerged from the trail-head, and her driver jumped out of the vehicle.

“Mr. Oohara called.”

Time might have stopped. Why had her father been so interested in her life lately. Of course, he probably hit the ceiling when she didn’t return to the boarding school. His attention at this precise moment cast storm clouds over the hours ahead. He would surely butt-in and get them all killed.

After a few heartbeats, Zi swallowed the strangling sense of foreboding. Another inhalation of mountain air swept away her surprise and uncertainty. She strode forward, stopping within arm’s reach of her driver. In the past three years, she had spent more quality time with him than with her father.

“What did he want?”

“He is on his way here.”

Her throat tightened. Like clockwork, the man put himself in the middle of everything, and this was the last place on earth he needed to be. In fact, his arrival might be a missile strike against their newly formulated plans. Why did he pick this moment to don the guise of concerned parent? Wait. He didn’t care about her safety, he just wanted her to conform to his will. She shook her head. His usual method of parenting.

“He saw the briefing,” the driver said. “He’s finishing up a deal in Saudi and will fly to Rome today.”

“Does he realize there’s a volcano erupting?”

“Mr. Oohara is aware of multiple volcanic eruptions, as well as a number of earthquakes. He instructed us to meet him at the hangar.”

“A little later. Like tomorrow.”

“I told him you wouldn’t leave yet,” the driver said, shifting his weight between his feet. “He said he would come and get you himself.”

“Call him back.Tell him I’ll return to China tomorrow,” Zi said. “He can’t fly over this area.”

“His pilot will steer clear of the volcanoes, Ms. Oohara.”

“And the dragons, Andy? What about them?”

The driver’s Adam’s apple bobbed. His grey-eyed gaze dropped to her chin. Right. No one’s accounting for the dragons.

Her father’s pilot was former military, like Manning, but he had no concept that the real problem wasn’t the volcano. A furious dragon wanted to decimate the entire planet. The volcano’s eruption conveniently shielded the beast’s presence. For now. Zi tightened her fingers into fists, glad to focus on the sensation of nails biting into her palms. Her faithful driver could call Mr. Oohara, but he couldn’t force her father to listen.

The thought stalled in her brain. Who wasn’t listening? She had the same stubborn streak as her father. In fact, at this moment the two of them were thinking and acting identically. No.

A tidal wave of disgust revolted in her stomach. Her fingers curled over the churning mass. Zi wasn’t like her father. She booted the troublesome comparison out of her mind. Unlike her father’s selfish motives, she acted in the best interest of everyone in the world.

Doubt wormed at the back of her mind. He was coming to get her out of a dangerous situation. Did he believe she needed rescuing? It wasn’t his style to ride in and save her. He had minions for that. Of course, he’d ordered Manning to take her to safety two days ago. If the hired help fails, he’s not afraid to bring in the big guns.

Zi wrenched on the Humvee’s door handle. She flung open the back door and flopped across the seat. Why did her father have to butt into this situation? She had everything under control. She wasn’t in any real danger. Why didn’t he trust her judgment?

A dozen previous trips flashed through her mind. This wasn’t the first time she’d jaunted away when she was supposed to be in school. In Paris, a tainted drink nearly got her kidnapped. In that case, her driver had pulled her out of the hands of those unsavory characters, not her father. The movie of proof even included former Italy trips. A Venice art tour which bordered on an international incident when she’d envisioned an art forgery and accused the assistant curator of the crime. She fast-forwarded past the Florence and Milan trips; they might have cost her father tens of thousands of dollars, but it wasn’t like he couldn’t afford it.

She dug her tablet from the center console. A sigh punctuated her passcode. If anyone had the slightest chance of convincing her father to stay away, it would be her. The driver noticed her placing the call and motioned to the door. She pulled her feet inside and he shut it, sealing out the constant chattering and chirping of forest life.

“This is Mr. Oohara’s assistant,” the voice on the other end intoned. Without a trace of accent, the man epitomized professionalism. She chose the assistant she’d hired at school because he reminded her of this man. “May I help you?”

“Zi Yan,” she said. “Are you in the air, Sying?”

“Over the Mediterranean Sea,” he said, voice edged with disdain. She might admire his abilities and demeanor, but it wasn’t mutual. He detested her shenanigans, especially when they interfered with her father’s business schedule.

“Put my father on,” Zi said. He wasn’t the only one who could convey a thousand emotions with only a few words. As an Oohara, she had years of practice dismissing other people.

“Zi Yan, The Visionary, and my lovely daughter,” her father spoke to her in Mandarin, his jovial tone false.

“Why are you coming to Rome?”

“For you, nuer. I must return you to your school.”

“I’m in the middle of something,” she said. “I promise to return to the academy tomorrow.”

“Why would you leave so near the end of the term? You know your education is your first priority.” She knew he liked knowing where she was and how she was using her sight. He waved his hand. “More importantly, where have you been? The school said you left nearly two weeks ago.”

Like he didn’t know the answer.

“Jaunting to Italy and Everest. What are you up to?” The saccharine tone had vanished. Out come the claws. “Your pilot, who will be fired shortly for defying me, said he waited for a week in Naples with no word from you at all.”

“I had a vision,” she said, sighing. These four words, while they might reignite his lust for her accurate foresight, were her only acceptable line of defense.

He leaned closer to the screen. “You have never allowed a vision to dictate your actions?” Nope. That was his specialty. “You are missing finals.”

She gritted her teeth and concentrated on staring into her father’s pale brown eyes. “I have it covered.” She knew what her first priority was.

Silence stretched between them, awkward. Especially since they sat at opposite ends of an electronic wavelength.

“What did you see, Visionary?” He leaned back. The white leather of his plush seat came into view. His tone was all business.

“The eruption. Fire destroyed people, villages and crops. It was awful. Worse even than the Eastern Island War.” Which was saying something. She had watched her uncle blown apart in that vision. A shiver pimpled her exposed skin.

“What purpose did your trip serve? No one can keep a volcano from spouting off.”

Not even you, Mr. Oohara. If only she had the courage to spout the scathing words.“You saw the media coverage. I convinced them to evacuate a wide area.”

“A heroine.” The video feed wavered, but she heard clapping in the background and could imagine the sardonic twist of his mouth. “Why didn’t you return to school when Naples was evacuated?”

She tilted the tablet, annoyed by the message warning her the connection wasn’t strong enough for a visual call. “There was something else I needed to do.” Wow. You told him. The ache in her stomach reminded her why she avoided him rather than confronting.

“ETA?” His voice sounded faint. He spoke to either his assistant or pilot. “I should be there in less than six hours.”

“I’m sure you have important business to attend. I promise I’ll be back at school tomorrow night.” Company matters had always taken preeminence. Even when his daughter grieved her mother.

“Andy knows his way around the roadblocks.” He didn’t even sniff at her bait. “I’ll see you at the hangar in Rome.”

The call ended. Zi flung her handheld to the side. It ricocheted off the other passenger door before settling face down on the floor.

A coral line on the outside of the jet separated the silver from the royal blue: her father’s company transportation. Floating through the window, she watched Sying fingers gyrate rapidly, manipulating something on the screen of his tablet. Her father stared straight ahead. She knew he studied the media screen, always tuned to business news, no matter where he was. The plane bounced (an air pocket?) and shivered.

Her father and Sying exchanged concerned looks. Whatever the pilot had told them offered no reassurance. Her father stared toward her, out the window. His eyes widened. Did he see the red dragon? His flight path over the Tyrhennian Sea might intersect with the plan to dunk the beast in salt water.

Another exchange of words. Her father’s face tightened. Sying stumbled to the back of the plane. He reached into the emergency closet. Her father tucked a thin electronic ledger into the simulated elephant hide satchel he always carried. Behind him, smoke leaked from the pilot’s cabin.

The plane lurched and bucked, knocking Sying into the wall of cabinets beside the media screen. The cockpit door opened. Gray clouds flooded the main cabin. The co-pilot shouted at them. Another dip sent him to his knees. Sying stumbled into her father, handing him a royal blue bundle - a parachute.

The entire plane vibrated. A ball of flame leapt toward the window behind the co-pilot. The plane dropped again. A white indentation appeared on the front windshield. Cracks snaked out from its center. Fire lashed. The cockpit exploded into flame at the same instant the pilot jettisoned through the gaping hole where the window had been.

ZI’s heart pounded in her throat, making breathing impossible. Her driver’s face shimmered into view. She gasped for air, blinking away the remnants of the vision. A hopeless cause. The flaming jet seared itself deeper into her mind. Beside her, the door opened.

“Ms. Oohara,” the driver said, kneeling on the ground next to her seat. “Are you well?”

Zi’s eyelids fluttered. A tear wetted the side of her nose. A yank from behind kept her from shaking her head. Her thick braid caught on the stitching at the center of the seat.

“Can I do anything?”

Another vision from years ago haunted her, opening a pit somewhere below her ribcage. She watched her mother die - over and over again for seven days. Her mother pushed her away, backed toward the wall before the careening car slammed her body against the pale building. Zi stood there, doing nothing. She knew how things played out and was nothing but a bystander.

Not this time. Maybe her visions could be changed like Ezer said. Whether they could or not didn’t even matter. He might not be much, but he’s the only parent left. This time she refused to be a bystander. This time she would stop death in its tracks.

“Andy, I need you to drive me back toward the villa.”

“What about the boy?”

Akolo was busy learning how to get inside a dragon’s head. Whoever had gifted her with the ability to foresee events had a different plan for her today.

“Don’t worry. We’re coming back.”

“Yes, Miss.” He nodded and shut the door.

Zi scrabbled across the seat, retrieving her tablet from the floor. By the time they pulled out of the gravel lot, she had her pilot on the phone.

“Manning, I need to get some things from the jet.”

The calm voice shocked her. It reminded her of someone she hadn’t heard in nine years.