I do like that Muriel cuts to the chase.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t clear on which particular problem was the issue in this place at this time.
Feigning ignorance is a good tool.
‘What problem?’
Muriel opened the file. ‘You’ve been missing classes, and disappeared for the better part of the afternoon yesterday. Apparently, you haven’t been completing your homework assignments and your grades are slipping. You were inattentive in art class, which is very uncharacteristic.’ She closed the folder and studied me, exuding earnest care. ‘This might be little cause for concern in another student, but we like to know our students individually. You’ve always been a good student, Zoë, and have no record of missing classes. Is there a problem?’
‘No,’ I lied. ‘Everything’s fine.’
‘Problems with other girls?’
‘No.’ I tried a smile.
‘Boys?’
‘No.’ Mages, Thunderbirds, werewolves, and rebel rockers, but that was different.
‘There’s no need to be defensive. I’m here to help you.’ Muriel smiled. ‘To be your friend.’
I smiled back. It was a better choice than laughing out loud. ‘There’s no problem,’ I insisted. ‘I’ll try to do better. In fact, I’m missing English class right now. Can I go?’
Muriel frowned. ‘Zoë, I had hoped that you and I could resolve this.’
‘Nothing to resolve,’ I said, trying to look enthused. ‘I’ll just go back to English class …’ I stood up.
Muriel didn’t. ‘I don’t want to call your parents about this. I know that your mother in particular dislikes whenever there are academic issues.’
‘My mom’s away,’ I said before I thought it through.
Muriel checked my file. ‘Away?’
‘She, um, well, she left. And my dad went after her, to talk.’
Muriel completely failed to hide her astonishment. She began to take notes at lightning speed. ‘Then who is staying with you? You don’t have siblings and you are a minor …’
‘My dad arranged for me to stay with Meagan and the Jamesons while he’s gone. So, it’s all taken care of.’ I smiled.
Muriel put down her pen and sighed. She fixed me with a look of such concern that I almost squirmed. ‘I’m very sorry to hear about your parents and their marital difficulties, Zoë. Would you like to attend our course for students whose families are being damaged by divorce?’
I grabbed my bag. ‘No, I’m good, thanks. I don’t think my family’s going to be damaged by divorce.’ I smiled. ‘My dad, he can be pretty persuasive, and I’m sure …’
But I wasn’t sure.
And Muriel knew it.
I really didn’t want to think about it.
I ran out of words and we stared at each other for a moment. Then I slung my bag onto my shoulder. For once, the earnest compassion got to me. I felt my tears rising, but I blinked them away.
‘Maybe later,’ she said softly. ‘Thank you for telling me about this, Zoë. If you don’t mind, I’d like to chat with Mrs Jameson about our concerns.’
‘Sure. Whatever. English!’ And I was gone.
Muriel meant well, but she didn’t know the half of it.
And I wasn’t going to be the one to tell her. The Covenant, you know.
Which just meant I was going to have to cram in some extra schoolwork to avoid suspicion.
In my spare time.
Such as it was.
No pressure.
Chapter Nine
There was no way I was going back to English class. I wasn’t interested in hearing about the weather as a character or in learning what I hadn’t thought about including in my essay. I certainly didn’t want to see that grade.
Instead I went to the library and did what I do best. I worked on that drawing for Derek and thought about what I needed to ask him.
It was shaping up to be a pretty good drawing. The dragon filled the cover of his book. It was rearing back, its tail coiled behind and beneath it, its wings stretching off the edges of the page. It had a fearsome number of teeth and was breathing fire, its claws raised to strike and its eyes flashing.
I’d sketched the pose in pencil, and now was filling it in with marker. First the outline in black, then all the detail of the scales. This dragon had a bit of an Asian look to it, so I’d put the traditional pearl in one claw. On impulse, I drew continents on the pearl, making it into the planet Earth. Kind of an inside Pyr joke, seeing as how we’re supposed to be the defenders of Earth. This dragon was kicking butt in defense of his hoard. I did some Asian clouds behind him, the kind you see in tattoos.
I was trying to decide whether I should go with color or leave it a black line drawing when I felt someone beside me.
Derek.
Of course.
‘Cool,’ he said and sat down beside me.
I knew he was watching me, but didn’t look up. ‘Color or just like this?’ It was his book – he could decide.
He leaned closer, his elbow pressing against mine. I could feel how warm he was, smell his skin. It was an awful lot like the moment I’d had in that other library with Jared in the spring – complete with the librarian watching us like a hawk.
I even felt something fluttery in my stomach. Not as strong as it was with Jared, but it was there.
Awareness.
And just the way I did when I was with Jared, I forgot whatever I was going to say next.
Derek glanced up at me then, those pale blue eyes seeming to pierce right through me. ‘What color would it be?’
I couldn’t quite catch my breath. ‘Whatever you want.’
The corner of his mouth lifted a little, not quite a smile.
‘What do you want? It’s your drawing.’
I looked away from his intensity, studying the drawing. ‘I guess I’d make him shades of purple, with some charcoal. It would contrast with the orange flames.’
‘Him?’
I looked at him again. ‘Sure. All dragons are guys.’
‘What about dragon shifters?’
‘Most of them are guys.’
‘But not all.’ Derek reached for the drawing, turning it to examine it more closely. ‘I want you to color it like a girl dragon.’ And he pushed it back at me, a dare in his eyes.
‘Which is?’ I wasn’t sure whether he’d seen me as a dragon or just as a salamander.
‘White.’ He spoke with conviction and I knew he’d seen. ‘A thousand shades of white, from mist to snow to starlight.’
It was strangely poetic for Derek the gruff. I looked at him, and was surprised to see the back of his neck turn red.
As if he were embarrassed.
Huh.
I leaned forward, bracing myself on my elbows and whispered. ‘Is there a reason you came to this school this year?’
His gaze flicked at me, then away, then back. ‘You.’
Now I was blushing, but I didn’t look away. ‘Why?’
He eyed the librarian, then pulled another notebook from his backpack. He wrote, then turned the page toward me.
There is a prophecy among my kind, that when the stars stand still in the sky, all shifters will be hunted. The only way to survive will be to form a larger pack, one that includes other kinds of shifters. The key to that union’s success is our accepting the dragon unique to her kind as our pack leader. I came to make that union.
He spun the book and pushed it toward me, staring across the library while I read what he’d written: I came to make that union.
Those words left me uncertain, self-conscious, jittery. My Wyvern sense made me feel that his interest was about more than a treaty negotiation. How exactly did wolves seal their alliances?
The way he watched me made me pretty sure I could guess the answer and it left me flustered.
‘Why you?’ I asked quietly.
He smiled a little. ‘Not everyone believes in prophecies.’
So, there was doubt among the werewol
ves, but Derek believed. Whether he’d been assigned to be an emissary or had chosen the role, he was here to make the union work. And I could guess that a big part of that would be my proving myself worthy of being pack leader.
From what I knew about wolves, males took precedence, particularly males in their prime.
No wonder there was skepticism in the pack about me, a young girl dragon.
I took a breath, then tapped the first sentence, the part about stars standing still. Derek tugged out his messenger, typed in a search term, then offered it to me.
It was a site about the Great Lunar Standstill. A Great Lunar Standstill, it turned out, was a momentous astrological event.
And we were in the middle of one.
I skimmed the details and learned:
1. A Great Lunar Standstill occurs roughly every nineteen years.
2. There’s a theory that ancient peoples were totally into tracking Great Lunar Standstills and that monuments like the Standing Stones of Callanish were built to showcase Great Lunar Standstills. Astrologers warn to expect great upheavals, transformation, and change during such events.
There was a bunch more, but it made my eyes glaze over, even with my newfound love of astronomy. When I finished reading, the notebook with Derek’s handwritten message was gone, presumably tucked back into his bag. I gave him his messenger and our fingers brushed. I was pretty sure it wasn’t an accident. I swallowed, and he watched me closely, his eyes gleaming pale.
‘So, how do we make this happen? How do we convince …’
Derek shook his head and frowned to silence me, flicking another look at the librarian. Then he leaned close, his gaze fixed on me. ‘You lead. You triumph. You win them over. And until they believe, I’ll defend you.’ His lips set. ‘Count on it.’
Okay, I had to prove myself worthy of leading a pack of wolves.
No pressure.
‘Dragon’s done,’ I said, pushing his notebook toward him.
Derek pushed it back. ‘You didn’t sign it.’
‘I never do.’
‘You should start. You have to claim ownership of what you do.’
‘Mark territory, you mean,’ I said, thinking of wolves.
He smiled then, really smiled. It illuminated his face, making him look a lot less secretive. More approachable.
He nodded.
I signed.
‘Thanks, Zoë,’ he said quietly. ‘I mean what I said.’
I didn’t doubt that for a minute. I watched as he tucked the notebook into the bag from the store, then inserted it in his pack with care.
‘Aren’t you going to use it?’
He gave me a hot look. ‘It’s too special for that.’
And then he was gone, leaving me with lots to think about.
* * *
Meagan and I were walking home from school, and I was still thinking about Derek. If it was up to me to figure out how to lead an attack on the Mages, I needed to have a foolproof plan. I didn’t want to put my friends in unnecessary danger.
Actually, Liam and Meagan were walking together, talking, and I was trailing behind. Liam had turned up at our lockers and was talking to Meagan about movies. They had dissenting opinions about the latest hot boy star. Predictably, Meagan was cutting the star a lot of slack and Liam wasn’t.
Unpredictably, disagreeing with Liam was having a miraculous effect on Meagan’s stutter. She was so busy mustering her arguments that she forgot to be nervous.
I liked that a lot. I had visions of us becoming close again, now that Jessica was busy with Trevor.
Maybe the apprentice Mage had done me a favor.
As if.
Nick suddenly pulled up beside us in his little electric-blue compact car. ‘Hey, Zoë!’ he shouted, as if surprised to see me. I knew Liam had probably told him where we were, or he homed in on our respective scents. ‘How are you?’
‘What are you doing here?’ I cried, as if surprised as well. (Maybe we overdid it a bit.) He parked the car and climbed out, all long-limbed and athletic. I felt Meagan’s mouth fall open once more.
‘Hey, Liam.’ Nick smiled at Meagan. ‘Hi, I’m Nick.’
She blinked, pushed up her glasses, and looked between the guys and me.
‘I’ve known Nick forever,’ I said.
‘I’ll bet he’s the s-s-son of a friend of your father’s,’ Meagan guessed.
‘How’d she know that?’ Nick asked.
‘Meagan’s brilliant,’ I said. ‘Everyone knows it.’
‘Nice to meet you.’ Nick shook her hand. ‘Any friend of Zoë’s is a friend of mine.’ He was a bit too cheerful, if you ask me, but Meagan blushed scarlet at his attention.
‘My dad needs hotter friends,’ Meagan muttered under her breath and I tried not to laugh. Liam looked away to hide his smile. Nick was fighting his own smile, his eyes dancing.
‘What are you doing here?’ I asked again.
He looked embarrassed. ‘I thought I’d come down to see Isabelle.’
‘You know Isabelle, too?’ Meagan asked. Nick nodded.
This was my opportunity to give him a hard time. ‘What does your girlfriend think of that?’ Nick looked mortified. ‘He dumped Isabelle,’ I told Meagan and she regarded Nick with horror.
‘Maybe he needs glasses,’ Liam said, teasing.
Nick turned red. He looked away. He shuffled his feet. ‘Teresa and I are just kind of seeing each other, sometimes. It’s no big deal. It’s just, you know, just …’
‘Sex,’ Liam supplied. He managed to look innocent while he did it, too.
Nick glared at him.
Meagan choked, outraged on behalf of her idol.
That was when I guessed who else Donovan had been advising.
His son, Nick.
Nick turned to Meagan. ‘I figured I’d come and talk to Isabelle, try to straighten things out. Maybe we can just be friends.’
‘I don’t know why you’d want to date anyone other than Isabelle,’ Meagan said and Nick blushed even redder.
The thing was, I didn’t think he knew either.
I didn’t have a ton of spare time in the evenings for the rest of the week. As much as I would have liked to hang out with Liam and Nick, Meagan’s mom had other ideas. She was taking her custodianship of me really seriously so I was guessing that Muriel had called. I got parked at the dining room table to do my homework under surveillance, every night from six thirty to ten.
And she took my messenger until I was done.
Meagan, of course, was finished with everything by eight. She stayed with me and read, and was helpful when I needed it.
In our respective beds at night, we argued about Trevor and Jessica. Meagan thought it was a sign of Trevor’s sensitivity that he had seen the finer qualities of Jessica, even though she wasn’t flashy like Suzanne. She refused to condemn Jessica for getting the bonus prize that she had wanted herself.
Maybe she thought that one day, if Jessica and Trevor didn’t work out, Trevor would notice her. She certainly accepted every invitation from Jessica to include her in their plans.
I had deep dark feelings about all of this, but I couldn’t say much without sounding like more of a bitch than Suzanne.
After that topic was exhausted every night, we argued about her Halloween costume. Meagan was determined to be Mozart, even though that was the least likely costume to get her noticed by any guy alive. She thought it would make Trevor aware of the interest in music they had in common. I thought she should go with something more sexy. Meagan was sure she was right, though, and had a long silver wig, a brocade jacket from a vintage store, breeches, and buckled shoes. And a conductor’s wand.
Her glasses at least didn’t look out of place. And who knew— maybe she and some other hot guy with musical skill would hit it off.
Maybe there was a guy like Trevor out there for her who wasn’t an evil apprentice Mage.
I had to hope.
I had no costume, as I was determined I wasn’t going
anywhere.
Despite Meagan’s entreaties.
Her messenger wasn’t chiming very often, a sure sign that Jessica had found something more interesting to do. I was angry that she was treating Meagan so shabbily, but I wasn’t sure what I could do about it. Meagan kept cutting her new friend slack, which made me even more mad. The guys kept me posted on their investigative progress, which was fairly minimal.
I had the definite impression that they were having more fun than me.
Derek was circling, not approaching unless I beckoned to him. All I needed was a foolproof plan to save the world.
Sadly, I hadn’t refined that one yet.
I got one stern message from my dad, informing me that we would talk when he got home. I knew what he wanted to talk about, and that message made me hope he’d stay in England for a while.
Maybe for good. A ‘talk’ with a pissed-off dragon is never a good time.
I heard from my mom every morning. She never said anything about the incident with the counselor, but someone must have told her something because she was more intent on asking questions. I’d put my nickel on Mrs Jameson. It was good to hear my mom’s voice, even though I couldn’t read one thing in her tone and she wouldn’t talk about my dad.
In bed, when Meagan was asleep, I tried to send visions to the Pyr, with no idea whether I was successful or not. The guys never mentioned having any dreams or receiving anything from me, but it was better than dozing off and meeting Urd.
By Friday, I was beat. I took one look at my English homework that night and thought I’d put my head down on the table and sleep.
Dostoyevsky. What joy was this. I’d be in a coma before I finished the first chapter.
Meagan finished early yet again, probably to starred reviews, and went to the piano to do her practice. She had her classes on Saturday morning for that, and I dared to imagine that I might have some free time.
She worked a scale, warming up. The Jamesons had a grand piano in their living room. In fact, it filled the living room with its glossy blackness. An imposing instrument. The sheer size of it made Meagan look petite and her hands seem small.
Winging It Page 16