by Rena Rocford
I turned my head to listen, and heard it too. “How far do we have to go?”
He shook his head. “Not far, but we have to leave a lot of false trails in case someone is trying to find us. You ready?”
clung to the back of the motorcycle and tried not to think about how I was clutching the racing suit of a really hot guy. And he could really ride a motorcycle.
The landscape sailed by, but the sun touched the horizon before he pulled off the paved highway and drove up a steep dirt road. It switched back up the side of a mountain, twisting between trees, until we came out at the saddle of the mountain. A slice of the sun still illuminated the land, lighting up the valley and the rows of mountains north and south.
The golden-red light caught in the grey rocks, casting the land in pink. Felix stopped and flipped up his visor to watch the sun go down. We said nothing, just sat in the crook of a mountain watching the sky. When the sun disappeared behind the horizon, my stomach growled.
Felix turned around to meet my gaze, his blue eyes crinkled at the corners. “I guess we should get you some food. All the stories say hungry dragons are dangerous.” He winked and kicked the bike forward to get started again.
The road went up along the ridge of the mountain and into a large stand of pine trees. Log cabins huddled under the canopy of giant trees like a logging camp, complete with people tending barbeque pits. A group stacked wood against a cabin, while another fixed a roof. Around a giant stone pit, a horde of men and woman roasted a side of beef, and the garlic and herb spices filled the air. My stomach roared its approval of the coming meal.
I hadn’t eaten since earlier that morning.
Felix drove through and parked at a central building with metal siding and large roll up doors. The inside was paved in smooth concrete. Bikes of every color, style, and creed lined the walls. There were racks for holding motorcycles, but most of them sat around the wall, kickstands in place. One sat in a rack in the center. The front tire fork was twisted like a giant had squashed it in its hand. Felix stopped and backed it into a slot in a row of motorcycles. These bikes had sponsor stickers. It wasn’t just a racing suit he wore. He raced bikes for real.
The engine cut, and the garage went quiet. I put my foot down and slid off the bike. My legs felt shaky from the adrenaline and riding all afternoon. Felix kicked his leg over the handlebars and pulled off his helmet.
“You race?” I asked like an idiot.
He smiled. “Yeah, I’m still qualifying for circuit, getting points and sponsors.” His face darkened. “We had a team.” His eyes flicked to a bright green racer down the line.
“What happened?”
“They didn’t come back; they just disappeared.”
Steve’s face flashed through my mind, as Reggie’s words floated back across my thoughts. Just like my boy, he’d said. Was Reggie’s son hooked up to an IV somewhere like Steve and Aunt Agnes?
“We need to find out what happened,” I said.
Felix unzipped his jacket and headed for the bay doors without a word. I followed, not knowing where else to go. My hand went to my cheek. Crap, did I have any makeup in my backpack? I pulled my hair out of my jacket and unbraided it, letting it fall over my face; black hair and shadows might do the trick. Then again, these people had children in feathers–would they even flinch at a couple of scales?
I wound my fingers through my hair. Better safe than chased down by a gryphon motorcycle gang.
Felix strode through a Frisbee game, pausing just long enough to avoid the flying disc. I had to jog to keep up, but I did not want to be left alone in this crowd of strangers. Not that I knew Felix any better than the rest of them, but I felt like I’d bonded with him while racing through the desert roads, evading raging unicorns.
My backpack bounced as I jogged, and whatever was at the bottom jabbed my side again. He walked up to a large building, at least three stories high, built in a rustic log cabin style. Tree trunks held up the vaulted roof on an oversized porch, and three large balconies fanned out from the second and third floors. A group of people sat in chairs on the porch, hair disheveled and skin sand blasted. From the dirt and the sweat streaks, these had to be some of the bikers.
As we walked up the steps to the porch, Beth emerged from a sliding glass door. “He’s awake,” she said to the bikers sitting in a circle.
They sagged with relief, letting out long sighs. Two stood up and headed back inside.
“Beth?”
“You’re back!” She crossed the porch and scooped me up in a bear hug that should have broken ribs. “I was getting worried.”
“We had to loop around the mountain to get back,” Felix said.
“Your Pop’s inside, Felix.” A man from the circle said. “He’s with your uncle.”
“What’s wrong?” Felix shot through the door, leaving me on the porch with Beth.
The others watched him go, then turned back to me. “So what’s all the hub bub? What’ve you girlies done to rile up the unicorns?”
“It’s complicated,” I said.
They roared with laughter. “It’s unicorns, girl. Of course it’s complicated.”
Before I could think up a proper retort, Reggie stuck his head out. “Beth, why don’t you bring your friend inside? We need to talk.”
Thank God. I didn’t want to talk in front of the peanut gallery. Besides, what would I say? The unicorns think Beth kidnapped someone so they want to kill her, but really it was those other trolls, not Beth? Oh, and my father might be trafficking unicorns? I’m sure they’d be real understanding. The gryphons might be entertained by the mix up, but those unicorns were shooting real bullets.
And I’d seen the damaged bike. Someone was probably in the hospital. No one was going to be in a forgiving mood. I followed Beth inside, keeping my head down so my hair would hide most of my face. Candles lit the lodge. A woman wearing a khaki uniform with patches on her sleeve and a broad brimmed hat sat on a couch. Next to her, a man wearing camouflage and combat boots with a trucker hat fiddled with a knife. He stopped playing with the knife to peer at some papers on the coffee table. Two men in racing leathers hovered near the roaring fireplace. Everyone looked up as we came in, their gazes on me as I walked through the lounging area.
“Is she really a dragon?” someone whispered.
Reggie turned on his heel. “Shut it! She’s a guest.”
Crap, they hate me, and I haven’t even done anything!
Well, nothing except get someone riding a bike hurt.
Did they hate dragons for some ancient slight or war? In the diner, the gryphons just opened fire on the monohorns; what would they do to a dragon?
I raised my hand to my face to cover my scales.
Beth grabbed my shoulder. “Come on,” she hissed.
We walked down a hall and into a huge room. A vaulted ceiling rose above the bed, and a cedar headboard with twisted branches extended up the wall. The bedspread matched the painting on the wall, and a little statue sat on the bedside table.
Felix perched on the edge of the bed, holding the older man’s hand. There were bandages over most of the man’s skin.
“You brought her in?” he asked.
“I couldn’t leave her outside for the vultures,” Reggie said.
“That’s probably better anyway. Safer.”
I wanted to wave a sign that said I’m in the room. Instead, I crossed my arms. “Is there a problem with me?”
“Only that you’re the daughter of a traitor,” the man on the bed said.
Felix looked down sharply. “What are you talking about, Dad?”
His father pointed at me. “That’s David’s girl. Can’t you see it?”
Felix looked up from his father, meeting my gaze. His eyes narrowed.
Paralyzed by those sky-blue eyes, my brain choked on the information. My dad. They knew my dad.
And they hated him.
Felix’s jaw clenched. He looked at the ground. His whole body tensed as he t
ook a deep breath. When he looked up again, his face was set in a stone-like mask.
“I didn’t know David was a dragon,” he said, forcing the words through clenched teeth.
“You knew my father?” They were the wrong words, but my world was spinning out of control. How could these people know the father I’d never met? Not even once. It was so incredibly unfair.
Reggie cocked an eyebrow and huffed out a puff of laughter. “No, I didn’t know him. I just thought I did.”
I held my tongue, but my need to know twisted through my gut.
“Snakes shed their skin,” Felix said.
Did he just compare my father to a snake?
Reggie shook his head. “If only he’d been a snake. Snakes can’t change their stripes.”
Felix shot me a glance from the corner of his eyes before turning his attention to his father. “Can we trust her?”
I blinked. “I don’t understand. What happened? What aren’t you telling me? And what the hell is going on around here? Who are you people with your secret hideaway and your motorcycles and guns and ‘oh, you’re a traitor’s daughter?’ I’ve never even gotten a birthday card from him!” Drained of words, I tried to catch my breath. Deep in my gut, the burning sensation raged to life.
Silence held for a few heartbeats, then Reggie and Felix’s father both roared in laughter, heads tossed back. Stupid gryphons.
Reggie had to wipe a tear away from his eye he laughed so hard. “She sounds just like him, too.”
Felix’s father let out a deflating ‘ho, ho, hah,’ and my face jumped from hot to nuclear.
“She does.” He turned to focus on me. “It’s your father we have issue with, not you, girl.”
Felix furrowed his brow.
“My name is Allyson. And why would you even bring me here if you hate my father so much?”
“Careful, girl, you’re running hot, and unless you’re a phenomenal liar, you’ve never met your father. We aren’t fools. Lying bastard isn’t a genetic trait like scales,” Reggie said pointing at my face.
My cheeks burned, which probably only made the scales stand out more. “You knew?”
“There aren’t that many dragons in the world. I thought I recognized you at the diner. That’s when I called in back-up,” he said nodding to the man on the bed. “Dragons and unicorns can get pretty volatile.”
“Volatile?”
“They wouldn’t hesitate to kill a dragon if it was in their way,” the man on the bed said. He looked at me and shook his head. “I’m Giuseppe–Joe for short–and you’ve met my brother Reginald.” He turned back to Felix, who still avoided my gaze. “Help her get some food and settled down for the night, we’ll talk in the morning. And try to keep your trap shut. The place’ll be crawling with rumors soon enough.”
Felix stood, frowning, then pushed past Beth and me. “This way.”
Beth turned to follow him.
“If you can spare some more time, Bethany, I’d like for you to stay,” Reggie said.
I met Beth’s gaze. She raised an eyebrow at me, and I shrugged back. Her lips pressed together into a thin line and she gave me a watery smile before squeezing my shoulder. In anyone else, that would have caused a broken bone, but I guessed dragons were hard to break. My shoulder stung from her squeeze as I followed Felix back out to the lounging area.
“How’s your father?” the ranger woman asked Felix.
“He’ll be okay. I didn’t know troll blood worked like that.”
The woman nodded, then gave me a piercing look, leaning closer to Felix as she held my gaze. “Is she…?”
Felix looked away. “We’re not supposed to talk about it.”
The ranger nodded her head. “She is, then. I’ll come with you.”
“Thanks, Aunt Bea, but that’s not necessary.”
“And you know just how to make a girl feel comfortable surrounded by a mob of bikers?” She waited for an answer, but Felix rolled his eyes. “That’s what I thought. Go see if your father has any orders for the clan. I’ll take care of the girl.”
Take care of the girl. I might as well have been a horse that needed to be fed and watered and groomed. Of course, the conversation was whispered. Maybe they thought I couldn’t hear them.
Felix turned back to look at me. His brow tightened, and the muscle in his jaw twitched. His eyes focused on something past me and he studied the floor, nodded, and patted his aunt on the shoulder before turning to go.
What happened to the guy who teased me about being a hungry dragon? How could knowing who my father was change that, especially when I didn’t even know my father? It’s not like my dad was some sort of Hitler or anything.
Well, at least, I hoped not. I guessed my father could be–I knew less about him than I did about our last landlord.
“I’m Beatrice.” Felix’s aunt held out her hand.
I watched Felix retreat for a second longer before turning back to Beatrice. I shook her hand. “Allyson.”
“Pleased to meet you,” she said, then leaned in. “Whatever you do, try not to mention your father or your last name. There are some hard feelings around here.”
“What happened?” I asked.
“I’ll tell you after we get you some food. I doubt that feather-headed boy took the time to give you so much as a cracker.”
I shook my head.
Laughing, she winked. “Boys.”
Yeah, boys.
She led me outside. Around the fire pit, gryphons laughed at jokes as they piled their plates with salad, bread rolls, and barbeque. Kids chased each other, squealing as part of their games, and mothers tried in vain to pull children to some of the picnic tables to eat their dinner.
“This,” Beatrice said, waving her hands to indicate the whole encampment, “is the Aerie. The big house is the Lodge.”
“Everything looks really new,” I said.
“The old Aerie burned down almost eight years ago.”
“That’s terrible.”
She glanced back at me over her shoulder, but we arrived at the roasting pit before she could say anything else. My stomach rattled my ribs with its grumbling. The smell of the barbeque made my mouth water, and I couldn’t wait to eat. Beatrice sliced a thick piece of meat off and plopped it onto a plate, then piled potatoes and salad on one side, and topped the whole thing with a bread roll. She thrust the plate into my hands. “I’m sure you’d rather eat in private, so we’ll head over to the unused cabins.”
Holding a plate of barbeque was torture. My stomach demanded attention, but she kept walking through the camp. I barely heard what she said as we walked, so focused on making my feet go forward and not falling into my food.
“The fire killed the matriarch and her daughter, so the clan went to her daughter’s husband, as she had no other daughters.” Beatrice kept walking while talking, as if giving a tour at a park. I hurried to keep up, but I didn’t want to spill my food. When we were far enough away from the fire pit that only the occasional gryphon kid was around, she stopped, gazing out at the last streaks of color in the sky.
The pines broke, opening up to a ledge of rocks sticking out over a cliff. Wind whistled through the trees, making the needles moan.
She turned to me, blinking expectantly. “The man who started the fire was named David.”
David. My father.
Beatrice nodded slowly.
A cold stone fell into the place my stomach occupied. My father had started a fire that killed gryphons.
All my life, I’d dreamed about who my father was. In some dreams, I’d make him a member of the military, fighting for our nation. I tried careers on my father like dresses on a paper doll. I’d imagined he worked for the CIA for the longest time, and that was why Mom and I moved all over the place. I never once imagined he’d be anything but some sort of hero. In my mind, he was always saving the day or keeping the world safe from harm.
Never had I considered the possibility he’d be anything but a great person.
And he was actually an arsonist?
But if he was a dragon, maybe it was an accident.
“A lot of people died that night. The fire was huge; it made the headlines. You can still see the scorched area from airplanes.” She gazed into the darkness. “The matriarch’s daughter died. She was Felix’s mother.” She turned and started walking again.
I followed, scared to ask any questions. And this was why Felix suddenly hated me. My father killed his mother.
Over her shoulder, Beatrice said, “I just thought you ought to know, seeing as how there are some strong feelings here about that night. I’d hate to see you bear the brunt of a crime not your own.”
She stopped in front of a camping cabin like the ones at KOA. “Here you go. Flashlight’ll be inside. See you in the morning.”
And with that, Beatrice left me standing in the middle of the woods with a bunch of people who hated me because my dad had killed their pack leader.
My father was a murderer.
fumbled with the tray of food and found the doorknob on the cabin. Inside, the flashlight sat on a ledge next to the door. The cabin had four bunks and a table, with screens for windows. It wasn’t likely to be warm. One of the bunks had a sleeping bag on it. I slid my backpack off and set it down on the bunk.
After fiddling with the light, I found the lever that turned it into a lantern and set it on the table. And to think, I ended up stuck on top of this mountain because of some stupid safe deposit box.
The book!
All the riding around on motorcycles and talk about my father had made me forget about it. I pulled out the tattered tome, and as an afterthought, fished around to find out what had been poking me in the back all day. The plastic knick-knack caught the light from the cheap flashlight, and almost sparkled. I set it on the table next to my plate, then took a bite of the barbeque before it got cold and clammy.
Too late.
Holding a piece of steak in one hand, I slipped the rubber band off the cover and opened it to the first page.
This book belongs to:
David Takata
I almost dropped my steak. My Dad’s journal. My heart raced. I put down my food and wiped my hand on my jeans. I could clean them later. This might have all the answers to the questions I’ve been asking since I was four.