The scene you are about to read came from the original ending I’d sent to my editor. At that point, my plan was to rewrite my first book, scraping the whole beginning because I felt like things moved too slow.

I almost did it.

Then, I thought about how several of my readers had commented on parts they liked in The Earthspark, which included that beginning I was intending to change. In the end, I chose not to do a major overhaul (once again). Instead, I simply tightened the sections that were lagging and adjusted a couple passages so things fit the way they needed.

Therefore, I cut the original ending of The Fire Drake, and wrote the one that appears in the published version. However, if you’re interested in reading what almost changed my entire series, check it out below.

If you want a chance to read this whole novel for FREE, then enter The Fire Drake Giveaway. Open to anyone.

Happy reading!

(p.s. all material that appears on this blog is copyrighted. So please, if you want to share this content, share the link and attribute the writing to Vanessa Thurgood. Thank you.)

21 – News

Seven years later

Music permeated the manor, accompanied by the scent of hyacinths, as Ross reached the upper floors of the Parker Estate. Everything and everyone was in place for tonight. He, Frank, and Jenna had spent the last three days at his adopted aunt and uncle’s home to get everything in place for tonight. 

The Solomon castle chefs had delivered the food that afternoon. Florists had been there since dawn filling the drive, the entry hall, the ballroom, and any other place guests may wander with purple hyacinths and wild daisies. His job had been to oversee the grounds were well lit, with not a stone out of place in the walkways. 

It wasn’t every day that the prince of Tellidus announced his engagement, and Ross’s adopted cousin, Rivkah. When he reached her door, he found it open. His cousin’s red hair tumbled down her back in waves, contrasting with her golden dress as she stood in front of the gilded mirror, putting in her new diamond earrings. Something he helped the prince deliver that afternoon.

Her blue eyes landed on him in the mirror, and she turned. “Any sign of Owen yet?”

“He just arrived and is waiting for you downstairs. They sent me up to fetch you.”

“It’s about time.” Rivkah walked over and took his arm. They made their way to the grand staircase. “I was afraid he’d changed his mind.”

“I knew he’d show, but with someone like Owen, it’s hard to say when. He likely was trying to finish plugging up all the sinks for the poor kitchen staff.”

Rivkah laughed. “No, he did that too recently. It was more likely removing the buckles from the saddles of the king’s guard so they couldn’t tack their horses.”

Three people stood at the bottom of the stairs flanked by a host of guards in green liveried uniforms.

Prince Owen Comstock stood in the center, wringing his hands as he watched them descend the stairs. The king conversed with a man in a dark suit while the queen’s critical eye took in everything from the chandeliers to the hyacinths wrapped around the banister.

“Oh my, he looks nervous,” Rivkah whispered, attention focused on the prince.

Ross smirked conspiratorially. “You should have seen him when he was getting ready to propose to you. I thought the poor man was going to faint.”

Rivkah let go of his arm when they reached the ground level. 

“Hi.” Owen held his hands out low like he wanted to embrace Rivkah, but was afraid to do so with his mother watching. The ball started thirty minutes ago.”

With a mischievous grin, Owen held out his arm for Rivkah. “I couldn’t find a thing to wear. It was awful. Clothes and buckles everywhere.”

At this, Rivkah laughed out loud, before shooting an “I told you so” to Ross. 

The king and queen entered to great applause. Just before Owen and Rivkah entered, Owen called to him.

“Ross, my sister is arriving late. Would you mind bringing her in when she gets here?”

“You don’t have a sister,” he replied. “This girl you’ve told me about for the past four years is just a figment of your very wild imagination.”

Owen’s lips curled up in a knowing grin. “Just stay here until you see a girl in a blue dress walk through the doors. She’ll appear frantic and lost, and in need of a strong, knowledgeable escort.”

“Will she be arriving in a pumpkin and missing a slipper as well?” Ross scoffed. “Or will she wander in like a stray tabby cat before transforming into a bark covered dryad?”

“You’ll see.” With that, the royal party entered the ballroom and the crowd inside burst into applause. 

When the doors shut again, Ross wandered around the entry hall before deciding to go stand outside and get some flower free air. After standing out there for several minutes, he grew certain Owen had gotten the better of him again. As he was about to go inside, hooves clopping down the drive sounded along with several voices. A girl riding a black horse and wearing a blue evening gown with a dark overcoat, followed by three liveried guards dismounted near the royal carriage. 

He raised an eyebrow in surprise. For once, Owen told me the truth.

Two footmen ran over to take the reins of the newcomers’ horses and the girl walked up the path to where he stood at the top of the stairs. The guards followed behind her, matching her step for step. Ross tried to swallow, but his mouth was drier than sandpaper. Why in the flaming hills could he not remember her name? Owen had told him only the night before.

“Good evening,” the girl said brightly. “You must be my escort, Ross. Owen said he’d have someone waiting so I didn’t have to enter by myself.”

He cleared his throat. “Um, yes. I am.” Nienna! Her name is Nienna. “You must be his sister, Nienna. He said you’d be arriving late.”

The smile that graced her lips warmed him from the inside out in a way that no girl had made him feel since Ariel. She took his arm with a firm grip and allowed him to lead her inside.

The valet in the entry hall took her coat and that of her three guards. He struggled to keep his eyes off the soft brown curls that framed her face, and the way her gray eyes glittered in the light from the chandeliers.

What surprised him about her appearance was her hands. They weren’t the kind he’d associate with noble ladies. These hands had calluses with short nails, and though the fingers were long and thin, they were strong. The more he took in about her, from the sun’s glow on her skin, to the confident way she walked, the more intrigued he became. 

Once they were ready, Ross guided her to the open door to the ballroom. The air inside was stifling hot and the clash of perfume was overwhelming even from outside. As he was about to walk past the door frame, he felt her hesitate and stopped.

Her eyes darted around the ballroom and the once confident air she’d had evaporated. She glanced back at her guards as though seeking solace, but they’d left to take their places along the walls with the rest of the palace soldiers.

“What is it?” he asked.

Her grip on his arm tightened as she bit her lip. “I’ve… been living in a tent as I’ve worked with the road crew for the past several months and being here—”

“It’s a bit much, all the glittering jewelry and the brilliant colors.” He waved a hand at the twirling people before them.

“Exactly.” She looked up at him, and his heart gave a tight flutter. 

“Well, I promise I’ll stay with you throughout the night so you won’t have to wade through this alone. If you like, that is,” he added hastily. He shouldn’t presume she’d want his company.

“I would appreciate having someone to talk to. My mother disapproves of me hugging the walls with my guards, but honestly, that’s where I’d rather be.”

He placed his hand over hers. “Well, let’s go give our congratulations to Rivkah and Owen, then we can—”

His words were cut short as his gaze landed on a travel-worn figure standing in the shadow of the balcony doors. After seven years, why did that flaming toe rag have to show his face now?

Bartley Westrimus’s eyes cut through him like a heated blade before he disappeared outside. The meaning was clear.

Follow.

He shot a glance at Nienna and then back to the open door, heart racing. He’d just promised that he’d stay by this girl’s side, and moments later, he was being summoned. Ross tugged at the collar of his shirt. What should he do?

“Are you all right, Ross?” Nienna asked.

Her concern made him feel even guiltier, but he needed to know what Bartley had to say.

“I’m sorry, I need to see to something. I promise I’ll be right back.”

Her brow pinched together in confusion, but she said, “OK.”

He pushed through the crowds of people watching the dancers until he was out on the balcony. Bartley stood at the far end, near the stairs that led out to the gardens, leaning casually on the railing, a smirk on his lined face.

“Tellidus looks good on you, boy. And that pretty little thing you walked in with—” Bartley cocked an eyebrow.

“What are you doing here, Bartley?” Ross asked, cutting across the tracker.

“That’s a cold greeting for someone who’s been keeping your secrets for the past seven years. I haven’t been able to return home until now because of you.”

“And that’s my problem? Wait, what do you mean, ‘until now?’”

Bartley sneered. “With fortunes and friends like yours, does anyone else’s problems matter to you?”

“Answer my question, Bartley.” He towered over the tracker.

“A piece of interesting news crossed my ears recently, and I risked crossing the wall to investigate.”

Ross tried to feign disinterest, but it had been so long since he’d had any news about Ballitus other than the skirmishes with Porta Inga and Fort Meidros. 

“What did you find out?” he asked, tugging at the cuff of his shirt.

“Nero’s dead.”