She screamed. A horrific, long shriek. He thought his ears would bleed. For a moment, he feared she was tearing in two. Focusing as best he could, he pushed whatever magic he had towards the air around her, hoping it would allow her to pass through.
Suddenly, she popped into him and they tumbled painfully on the rocky desert floor, rolling into sagebrush. He lifted his head only to find a long, sharp cactus needle not an inch from his eyes.
Slowly, he crawled back as he separated their tangled limbs, then rose, dusting himself off. Aileen scrambled to her feet next to him. They stood alone in the desert with only the light of a pink pastel moon. No stars, or else the stars were too faint to be seen. The moon was a perfect crescent, too large to seem real, and hanging in the sky like a mobile above a baby’s crib. Cacti rose on all sides, a field of dead statues hemming them in.
He checked her up and down, smiling with relief as she appeared okay, then stretched his shoulder with a grimace. It hurt.
“You all right?” he asked.
She shoved him hard enough that he stumbled.
“What the hell did you just do, Miguel?” she swore.
“Me?” he pleaded, confused by her response. “I didn’t do a thing!” Yet even as he spoke, he wondered if that was true.
The ground rumbled again. This time, a herd of shadows raced past at the edge of his vision.
“Something’s out there,” he warned. “Or someone…”
As if in response to his words, a single shadow appeared marching towards them. He recognized the shape immediately, or at least the contour of the top hat the shadow wore.
“Hagr.”
Aileen stepped close, forcing him to put his arm around her waist as they waited in silent expectation. There was no urgency in the goblin’s approach, only a cocky swagger. Finally, his silhouette stepped into the moon’s doughy blush enough that they could see his gangly arms and protruding nose, his features made uglier by the murk of the distant light.
Then the shadow herd raced past again, drawing closer. Hagr seemed completely unperturbed by the pack, or else he didn’t notice, strutting towards them with the same confidence that Miguel’s nemesis, Burton Peña, had once shown before he’d been humbled.
The little man was dressed all in green like a leprechaun, from his top hat to his velvet jacket and green breeches to his perfectly shaped leather shoes. His attempt at a beard matched all the pictures Miguel had ever seen of leprechauns, but was scraggly and patchy as if diseased. His eyes were all wrong as well, bulbous and orange, although in this pale pink light, they looked light brown.
Hagr stopped five feet away, swept off his top hat, revealing a bald pate, and bowed ever so slightly. Miguel had met the little goblin once before and knew there was some old argument between him and Balor, but Hagr had saved Aileen and her mother from Finaarva and Månefè, the evil faeries they had fought. Miguel had promised to give up his only magic artifact, the Dragon Pearl, to the goblin in exchange for saving them, but had not seen Hagr since that day in the Olympic Forest.
“What do you want, Hagr?”
The goblin jammed his top hat firmly back on as the shadow pack settled beyond, close enough for their outlines to be seen, but no more than that. Still, the threat they posed caused heat to burn in his belly; so long as he stayed a human, it’d remain no more than gas. He’d have to transform into a dragon for the flame to burn. He readied himself, just in case.
“Where is it, boy child?” Hagr asked, his voice both unctuous and raspy, like oil-soaked sandpaper. “Where is the Dragon Pearl? You promised it to me! I have come!”
Aileen chortled. “You’re an idiot, Hagr. Do you think we carry it with us everywhere we go? The thing’s too big to tote around school!”
The goblin’s orange eyes narrowed so tightly Miguel thought they might pop out.
“But you came to the place of magic up there. Why else would you be here?”
“What?” asked Aileen incredulously as if Hagr was a parent who couldn’t figure out a new piece of technology. “Haven’t you ever heard of school field trips?”
“You mean you really don’t have it? Then…then…I will have…I will take…her!”
The moment Hagr pointed at Aileen, the shadow pack rose and moved close enough for Miguel to see them clearly. They were human-like, a little taller than Hagr with faces just as ugly, but their eyes were vicious and yellow, bright with an animal-like desire to hunt, kill, and feed. They wore dirty caps, jackets, and breeches of various hues, all in poor imitation of Hagr. Their noses and ears were especially long and pointed, as were the two tusk-like teeth that protruded upward from their lower jaws. Each carried a scythe or a scimitar with blades and handles that had never been cleaned from any earlier hunt.
Snarling and waving their weapons, they edged closer, slobber dribbling from their mouths. Miguel pushed Aileen back, stepping forward, but she shoved his arm down, apparently determined to stand beside him. At the same moment, Hagr waved his hand, signaling the pack to halt.
“Do you like my hobgoblins, boy child? They are my servants now, because I am king. I can tell them to hunt you and they will not stop until they have eaten you. I am king of the leprechauns and the hobgoblins. I want the Dragon Pearl. Give it to me or give me the girl. You don’t need her. She should be mine!”
“You can’t have her,” he said at the same moment that Aileen said, “You can’t have me.”
“I brought you here,” Hagr menaced, shaking a fist. “I will take her and keep her until you give me the Pearl.”
Miguel tried to protect her with his arm, but again she shoved him away, glaring. He wasn’t certain if she was angrier at him or at Hagr.
“Send us back and go away, you little beast!” she shouted. The hobgoblins banged their weapons and snarled menacingly. His belly growled. The fire needed release, and it burned worse than indigestion to not transform. His human anatomy wasn’t equipped to handle the pressure. He needed to do something quickly.
He belched.
It wasn’t the simple burp that comes with drinking too much cola. It was a discharge erupting from the bowels of Hell, a belch of historic proportion. Hagr and the hobgoblins stumbled backwards while the sulfuric reek of brimstone left Aileen hacking and waving a hand as if that would clear the air.
“Miguel!” she managed between coughs.
So that’s what happens if I don’t transform, he thought, wrinkling his nose.
“Hagr!” he said, trying to speak as firmly as his mom whenever he was in trouble. “You can just come to my house and ask for it. Stop threatening and send us back!”
The goblin snarled, however, ramming his top hat firmly back into place.
“I am king!” he squealed. “You must obey me! You cannot give me orders! Now I will punish you and take the girl until you bring me the Pearl. Hobgoblins, get her!”
The vicious creatures howled and whooped like hyenas, twirling and shaking their scimitars and scythes. Without hesitation, Miguel transformed.
Transforming was painful, although his mom told him he’d eventually be able to do it effortlessly. There weren’t many places in Tucson where he could safely practice, but he’d done it enough he could stand the pain with no more than a grimace. His body swiftly elongated, leathery wings sprouted, and a snake-like tail extended. His head suddenly rose above the pack of hobgoblins on his sinewy neck. His scales were not mere crimson like his mother’s, but a rainbow of hues: blues, blacks, and reds prominent while shades of orange, aquamarine, and other colors blended. A rainbow serpent, according to his mother.
By the time he reached his full height, his belly already glowed, the hobgoblins blinking at the bright light. He’d hoped the hobgoblins would turn back, that they wouldn’t be foolish enough to attack a monster like him. He dreaded the thought of killing, but they would not touch Aileen. Spreading his wings to protect her, he roared. The sound startled him and he coughed.
Woah! That was really…cool!
H
e hadn’t thought to roar; it had been instinctual. As soon as it had started, he knew he would’ve been beet red with embarrassment if he’d been in his human form. Roaring was so silly…except his roar as a dragon was better than any lion.
The hobgoblins hesitated, holding their weapons in front of their faces like shields. Hagr took several steps back, barely able to keep his top hat secured.
Underneath, he felt Aileen push his wing up as she forced her way past. Their eyes met. She was furious.
“Miguel Martinez! Don’t you dare…”
As soon as she spoke, the hobgoblins shrieked and began to charge once more. Without pausing to think, he allowed the heat in his gullet to rush up his throat and burst out in a fireball. He didn’t want to hurt any of them and aimed the flames over their head.
They cowered momentarily, but their golden eyes glittered and vicious grins spread on their faces.
“Miguel!” Aileen screamed. He only heard fear in her voice this time.
He no longer worried about hurting the hobgoblins. He did not worry about being hurt himself. Fear raged through his heart, dismay that they might capture his girlfriend and despair of what would happen to her. He roared again.
His first roar had been one of a child playing. This held all the ferocity of a mother bear protecting her young. The hobgoblins hesitated. His belly glowed white. For a moment, the tableau froze.
“The girl!” Hagr screeched and the hobgoblins howled, rushing towards Aileen.
He did not hesitate. His neck snaked back then shot downward at the horde, a fireball bursting out. The hobgoblins did not even have time to scream.
By the time he could see, the smoke had dissipated into tendrils undulating like cobras under a snake charmer’s flute. The sand and rocks were black. No sagebrush or cacti endured the fireball’s swath. Ashes were all that remained of the hobgoblins. Of Hagr, there was no sign.
A hand clutched his wing. He glanced at Aileen. Her face was white with shock.
What have I done? Did I really kill them all?
Nausea roiled in a tidal wave. He released his dragon form, shriveling in seconds back to a teenage boy. A cloud floated past the pastel crescent moon, darkening this other world enough so that he could only see her silhouette. He hoped she couldn’t see his face.
“Am I a murderer?” he whispered.
She grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly, and leaned against him, clutching his arm with her other hand. “You saved me, Miguel. I didn’t think I’d ever need saving. So, no, I don’t think that’s murder.”
They stood there until the cloud passed and the pale pink moonlight lit the blackened desert. The nausea subsided. Suddenly, Aileen let go, crossed her arms, and glared at him.
“How do we get back, Miguel?”
“I was more wondering what happened to Hagr. Do you think he escaped?”
Suddenly, the pastel landscape began to melt, or run as if rain was pouring on a Mary Poppins chalk drawing. He grabbed her hand, uncertain of what was happening, and closed his eyes at the disconcerting vision.
Moments later, a hand tapped his shoulder.
“Hey, lovebirds, keep up with the group!”
He opened his eyes. They’d returned to the hot desert morning of Saguaro National Park, their hands clutching each other. One of their chaperones was urging them forward.
As they started trudging on the rocky path towards the rest of the class, Aileen whispered, “How did you figure out what to do, Miguel?”
“I…I didn’t. I…”
Something to his left caught his eye. He turned suddenly, Aileen following his gaze. Out behind a cactus he thought he saw…”
“It couldn’t be…” he muttered.
“Was that a top hat?” she asked.
He sighed. He too had seen a flash of emerald green.
Chapter 3
The Girl
Ithought things would change for the better after our adventure with Miguel and his mom in the Olympic National Forest, but home still sucks.
I guess it has changed some: mom cries a lot more and hugs me way too much. Dad hangs around me whenever he’s home, like he doesn’t want to be alone. If I try to have some privacy, they’re knocking on my door every fifteen minutes and opening it before I can tell them to go away! Aaugh! I think I liked them better when mom let me be and dad ignored me.
Are they trying to convince me they love me after fourteen years of not telling me I was adopted? Dammit, don’t they have any idea what I’m going through? They need some serious counseling. I probably do too, but they’re both bonkers.
Today I gave up before I even got home from school. I’d rather head over to Miguel’s house, but Maeve has been on edge ever since we got back. No surprise, right? I mean, she’s a dragon, my boyfriend’s a dragon, what’s Eduardo going to do when he finds out? Miguel warned me to stay away; he’s afraid his parents are going to have a blow up any night now, cuz his dad knows his mom hasn’t told him the truth. I sure know how Pops feels. (That’s what I call him most of the time. Miguel’s dad, that is.)
Well, tonight life became…strange, for a lack of a better word. Like I said, I didn’t bother going over to Miguel’s and it’s not worth trying to hide in my room right now, so I just crashed on the couch in the family room. It’s a bit battered and the brown plaid fabric is soooo nineties, but it’s wide enough for two to cuddle and watch TV. I plopped against the arm rest, adjusted the orange and yellow pillows, then slipped my buds in my ears and turned on my Surface to write my English essay.
Blasting Megadeth as loud as my mom will let me always helps me focus. She’s constantly worried about my hearing and now that I know she’s not human at all, I’m certain she’s applied some of her magic to fix my eardrums more than once. LOL!
Before I go any further, I’ve got to say I don’t get why writing five-paragraph essays is so hard for most people. You get your subject, you do enough research to BS your way through, and you add your opinion at the end. Why is that so difficult? I’ve shown Miguel over and over and I think he’s finally getting it, but they’re the easiest thing in the world to get an ‘A’ on if you’re good at writing crap. I guess that’s one of the things I’m good at. Writing crap.
Figuring out a topic sentence is always the trickiest part, because every teacher has a different opinion on what makes a good one. I’d just sketched it out when my phone buzzed. Before Miguel and I became an item, only three people in the world texted me: my mom and my only two friends from New Mexico before we abruptly moved to Tucson a year ago, Sofia and Emma. But now that Miguel’s kind of a celebrity at middle school, the girls in band (he plays trumpet) suddenly all want to be my friend. Two of them write pretty decent poetry, so now I have six people who text me. (I don’t give my number to girls who can’t put together a few passable lines or who at least know who Elizabeth Barret Browning or Emily Dickinson were.)
One of the adorable things about Miguel’s texts is that they’re never mushy. I think he’s scared of me just enough to not be overly romantic or personal. Usually they’re homework questions, but occasionally he asks me what I think.
For example, last night, before our field trip to Saguaro National Park, he wrote this: “A, do you think I should start shaving?” He sent it with a selfie with his chin jutting towards the mirror. I always thought the little dark hairs above his lip were kinda cute, but now he had a few whiskers on his jaw. Not enough to look tough, but just enough to make my eyes roll, so I had to tell him it was time. He texted back, “TY.” See what I mean? Isn’t he perfect?
Back to my phone buzzing. Miguel had texted me.
“A, plz come over. Mom & dad arguing again. And talk about today.”
I heaved a sigh. Realizing no one could appreciate my drama if they couldn’t see me, I heaved myself to my feet. Maeve and Pops would put on a good face if my mom came over. Miguel was right. We did need to talk about today’s field trip. To be more exact, we needed to talk about seeing Hagr and what
it meant. He probably wanted to talk about killing all those hobgoblins. I suppose I do need to help him get over those guilt feelings, but what was he going to do? He was a damn dragon, after all! What does he expect will happen when he blasts fireballs? Ogres roasting marshmallows? Sorry, that was mean, but seriously! They had swords and obviously knew how to use them!
It was a novel experience, I’ve got to admit. No one’s ever had to protect me before. Not that I’d ever let them, but today was different. First time I’ve ever been scared. Really scared, not a jump scare in a movie like when Gandalf’s hand pops out of the darkness for Frodo’s shoulder. You know what I mean. Today was different. The whole bus ride back, I snuggled against him, even if that messes with my reputation. Dating him has been fun; I just always figured we’d go our separate ways in a few months. Now I don’t know if I ever want to date anyone else. Is that wrong to think at 14?
Convincing my mom to take me over was easy. After who knows how many years of hiding from the world that she’s a faery, she has someone else besides my dad who knows the truth. I don’t know how much Maeve looks down on her. She is a dragon, after all, and apparently that’s much better than a faery. At least, my mom acts like a lady-in-waiting to a queen whenever she’s around Maeve.
“Àibell!” Maeve shouted when she opened the front door and wrapped her arms around my mom, crushing her.
I grimaced rather than laughed, despite the comical sight of Maeve bending down a foot to accommodate my mom. It was the way she almost squealed my mom’s name that grated on my nerves. That is so not her at all, and that’s how I knew Miguel hadn’t been exaggerating about his parents fighting.
Squeezing past my mom and Maeve and through the front door, I immediately spotted Pops. For a moment, his round face was dark, then it lit up the same way Maeve’s voice had: a bit of truth in the joy of seeing me and a bit of false trying to hide what had been happening right before me and my mom arrived.
“Hey, Pops!” I said brightly while he hugged me tightly. I wasn’t about to ruin the mood. I know Miguel and I hadn’t been dating for very long, but he wasn’t the only reason I’d become a fixture in the Martinez home. His parents, especially Eduardo, have treated me like family from day one. When I’m at their house, I get to experience what I always thought family should feel like. I would do anything to help Miguel find a way to bring his parents back the way they were meant to be.
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