Dragon Lessons

by Eve Paludan

  “You are correct. And, yes, Beowulf likely had the Cup with him when he came through the same way that I did to your world.”

  He didn’t speak for a few moments, and I could see that his mind was far away. “Are you homesick, Thorn?”

  “No, just casting about for familiar landmarks to cling to, I suppose. Trying to be solid and sure when I stand my final ground against evil.”

  A spear of fear went through me for him, but I said, “That makes sense to me. A lot of sense.”

  “If I do find the Cup of Forgiveness, what if the Creator tells me to take it home? Mayhap, I could board a ship?”

  “Or a jet? Well, you almost could, but you don’t have a passport and we can’t legally get you one.”

  “What is a passport?”

  I groaned. “Official government papers that allow a person to travel to other countries.”

  “No one may leave a country without one?”

  “It would be a bad idea and imprisonment might follow. But you won’t need a passport, Thorn. I have this feeling that once you find the Cup of Forgiveness, that is actually your destination. Wherever that Cup is, that is some sort of end to one thing and the beginning of another thing.”

  “I daresay, you are too clever, Lady Tam.”

  “I wish I wasn’t,” I said.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Like you, Thorn, I think of how my actions affect the future. I have these mind-reading gifts and everything I do, even everything I think, has some bearing on the future. Everything.”

  “Verily!” he said. “Could I fly as a dragon to my homeland in one night?”

  “No, it’s too far, Thorn, and what if the sun rose on you while you were still over the ocean or otherwise in the air?”

  “How far is it to my homeland?”

  I Googled, What is the distance between Fullerton, California, and Denmark?

  I showed him the Google image on my phone. “It’s 5,485 miles to Denmark. As the dragon flies.”

  His brows furrowed. “How many leagues is that?”

  “Leagues? I dunno what a ‘league’ is, but I’ll Google it.” I checked and said, “You are 1,588 nautical leagues from Denmark.”

  “Oh, no, I should not try to fly that distance in one night under my own wings.”

  I said, “Maybe, after you get the Cup of Forgiveness, you won’t have to take it to Denmark. Maybe ‘home’ is somewhere you can’t even comprehend yet.”

  “You are wise beyond your years, Lady Tam.”

  “I know things from reading people’s minds, especially old people. Of all of the things I have learned, one biggie is to never assume that anything will be what you expected.”

  Thorn smiled. “If only I knew all that you know.”

  “And vice versa. That’s why we need time together. For lots and lots of mindreading,” I said.

  While Thorn’s hand-washed clothes now flapped in the wind on our seldom-used clothesline, I finally noticed that Anthony had lent Thorn some modern clothes—Anthony’s relaxed-fit black jeans were tight on the taller, heavier Thorn, and the black short-sleeve henley pullover shirt was unbuttoned all the way down to the V, revealing a glimpse of the fiery red hair on his chest. The tightness of the shirt showed every muscle and his bare forearms and pecs were… oh, Thorn looked completely rad in the clothes that were baggy on my brother. They fit him like a second skin. He even wore a pair of my brother’s sport shoes and socks. New, from the look of them. Anthony always kept a stash of brand-new shoes in his room since he went through shoes so quickly.

  “I should have said it earlier, but you look very… nice,” I said as I managed to change the subject from such serious things as we’d been discussing.

  “As do you, Lady Tam.” He smiled and followed my conversational lead. “You changed your garments, too?”

  “I do that every day, at least twice, three times if you count sleepwear, which I do. I love pajamas. I would wear them to school if I could.”

  “Every day, you change your garments so often? Your family is wealthy then?”

  “No, in this culture, it’s just customary to take a shower and change clothes daily.”

  “What a world. I saw your brother’s wardrobe. He has clothes stored for fifty men in there.”

  “Yeah, he has a lot more clothes than I do. He likes to go shopping a lot with Mom. Me, not so much. I don’t need as much, and I don’t let my dirty laundry pile up for two weeks like Anthony does.”

  “Why would he do that when you have a machine that does the work for your hardier clothing?”

  “Well, when you’re a high school student, there isn’t a lot of time to get everything done.”

  “Verily? But how many hours are in a day in this world?”

  “Twenty-four. What about in yours?”

  “The very same. And certainly, we managed to get our laundry cleaned, once or twice a year, weather permitting.” He grinned crookedly. “You must think me very backward.”

  “No, not at all, Thorn.” I paused. “You must think me very forward to speak to you without any social graces of your times.”

  “No, not at all, Lady Tam.” He paused. “It is a relief not to have to play at courtly manners to even approach you. I can just be as myself and it seems acceptable to you. And to your family.”

  “You can always be yourself with me, Thorn.”

  “And you with me, always,” he replied.

  The wind blew a dark curl in my face and he pulled it away from in front of my eyes, then caressed my cheek with a finger.

  I huffed out an excited breath that he had touched me like that. And then, I said his name so softly that he must have heard my plea in the way I said it.

  “Forgive me for taking such tender liberties. You are so beautiful that I nearly forgot myself.” He took away his hand.

  “It’s all right,” I said, feeling a deeper blush rise. “I think I understand exactly where you’re coming from.”

  Our eyes met, and I couldn’t look away. “Thorn, something is happening to me.”

  “Also to me.” He hesitated. “In the middle of my quest for the Cup, I should not be thinking all these other things.”

  “What things?” I asked, because I wanted to read his mind, but at this moment, it would be rude to do so. Let him tell me what he wanted. I wanted to hear things from his lips, not pry them from his mind.

  “What things? Among them, I noticed a distinct bloom in your cheeks that was not there earlier. Is this radiance of your skin an artifice?”

  “No, it’s not makeup or cosmetics… it’s emotion rising.”

  He took my hand and gently led me into the shade under the big tree in the backyard. “I have emotion rising, too.”

  “I’m glad,” I said, relieved. “I would hate to think this terrible ache inside of me was all one-sided… and that I was just being a foolish teenage girl.”

  “Not one-sided. And not foolish. I know of this terrible ache because I possess it, too.”

  “Wow. What should we do about this, Thorn?” I asked, my heart pounding.

  “We are at a crossroads, Lady Tam. Right now, I recognize that we must choose a path that we can live with. Or die trying.”

  “I know. It’s killing me, Thorn. I mean, not literally, but I don’t know what to do with everything I feel about you. I mean, we met in a dream and here we are, together in the flesh! The fulcrum is turning, as they say in literature. And I feel like all of my gathering emotion is going to make me burst.”

  “Well, we cannot have that, now, can we?” he asked softly.

  Now, both of his hands were on my cheeks, cupping them. He’s going to kiss me!

  “Thorn!” I choked out, excited, but over-the-moon happy, too.

  “Tell me to cease my journey along this glorious unexpected path and I shall. But tell me right now, for my resolve is slipping quickly.”

  After a heartbeat, I said, “I don’t want you to stop. I don’t want you to cease at all.
”

  “Nor do I wish to cease.” He paused. “Pardon, milady. Not cease at all?” he asked, shock crossing his handsome face.

  “No, don’t cease at all,” I said meaningfully and as bravely sexy as I could. “Let’s just go forward like the world might end tomorrow and whatever happens to either of us, we’ll always remember that we took a chance on—”

  Thorn said, “Yes, we shall always remember that we took a chance on us.” He breathed in and out several times, just staring at me, measuring me with his topaz eyes.

  I realized that he had also brushed his teeth and used mouthwash because his breath was minty-fresh, even a foot from my face.

  He finally said, “Far be it from me to squander the opportunity that Fate has offered us. Perhaps even the Creator himself wrote this moment in his Divine Book long ago. That we should… go forward.”

  I looked at Thorn hopefully, even as I raised my face closer to his and he lowered his to mine. Just before the exact moment when his lips would have actually touched mine, Mom opened the back door and screamed, “Get in the van. We’re all going to Costco!”

  We abruptly let go of each other.

  And so, thanks to Mom’s impeccable sense of timing, we lost that precious opportunity when we should have kissed for the first time. I didn’t know if we’d ever get it back, but it is what it is.

  “We’re coming, Mom,” I called back, annoyed at the interruption.

  I smiled at Thorn. “Come on. I’m going to introduce you to the free food samples at Costco.”

  Holding hands now, by silent mutual agreement, we walked toward Mom.

  “Lady Moon, I must speak to you after your daughter,” Thorn said.

  “No.” I gasped and shot a look at Thorn. I shook my head for him not to ask Mom for any permission to “court” me because I knew what her answer would be: No way, Jose.

  “We’ll talk later, the three of us,” Mom said. “And by the way, you should know that Tammy is seventeen years old.”

  “Worry not,” Thorn said. “I mind not that she is a veritable spinster.”

  I did a brief face-palm.

  Anthony poked his head into our conversation. “You didn’t waste any time, did you, Lady Tam-Tam?”

  “Do shut up, my giant little brother.”

  We got in the minivan and headed toward Costco at the dizzying stop-and-go speed of twenty-five miles per hour on the freeway.

  Anthony had called shotgun and rode up front with Mom.

  Thorn and I rode behind them in the backseat that was bench style, so we could sit with our legs touching and his arm curled protectively around my shoulder as we passed thousands of cars on our way to fill up our bellies with free samples, buck-fifty slices of pizza and soda, and a whole lot of groceries.

  Mom used her rear-view mirror to stare at Thorn and me in the backseat almost the whole way. I was surprised she didn’t rear-end anyone on the freeway.

  Thorn noticed her adjusting her mirror, so she could see us, too. He said, “Lady Moon, I do not see your eyes, yet, I sense them upon me. Do you not reflect in a looking glass?”

  She said, “No, I don’t reflect in mirrors. No vampires do.”

  Thorn took his arm from around me and said softly, “She’s not going to drink me for her supper, is she?”

  “Not as long as you behave yourself with my daughter,” Mom said from the front seat and briefly turned around to give us a scary death stare.

  “She’s kidding,” I told Thorn and took his big, rough hand in mine. He laced his fingers in mine and it felt… glorious. I felt the brave, strong power of him surge right through his hand to mine.

  Power transference! That’s where I’m getting this new power. It’s from Thorn!

  Defiant, I gave Mom a death glare right back. It was a good one, too. After all, I had learned it from her.

  Chapter 23

  TAMMY MOON

  We were back home now, and Detective Sherbet had texted Mom that Thorn and I still couldn’t get in to see Beowulf to question him because he was being evaluated. It was taking forever, and I knew Thorn was impatient to find the Grail or as he called it, the Cup of Forgiveness. I wasn’t as impatient because I had this inkling that once the Cup was recovered, Thorn would be gone from my life. I had conflicting feelings of helping him get the Grail back and also delaying that from happening. Luckily, the delay was out of my hands, and I was enjoying every minute with Thorn that I could. To the fullest extent of Mom’s laws...

  Thorn had tried every food sample in Costco, sometimes more than once, and Mom ended up spending more than she should have, but now, we had another big appetite to feed. It was like Anthony and Thorn were going to break the grocery budget. Oh, yeah, and Kingsley was over now, too. So, that was three big appetites plus Mom and me. Not that Mom ate much. She didn’t need to, but she always wore her alchemy ring that let her eat regular food. After all, family dinners were, for the most part, what connected us daily.

  We didn’t end up getting pizza slices at Costco, so now, we were all in the backyard rehashing all the things that had happened. And Kingsley and Anthony were getting some burgers grilled on Dad’s old grill that he’d loved so much. I made a big salad and some deviled eggs, and Thorn helped me set the picnic table with plates, cups and condiments.

  Now, we were catching up to the saga of Beowulf.

  Last night, after Beowulf got handcuffed by Mom, Thorn picked up Beowulf’s magic sword before we could stop him. After Mom told him about fingerprints and evidence, he’d cocked an eyebrow in confusion and put it down so Detective Sherbet could take it away and lock it up as evidence.

  Thorn said Beowulf’s sword was tainted with the blood of so many Swedes and Danes that he wanted to destroy the sword. He’d said it was evil, and I kind of talked him into not destroying it, but allowing Detective Sherbet to take it away.

  Detective Sherbet had wrapped it up and put it in the trunk of his unmarked white cop car. And then, we heard the vile sword was going to be locked up in the police evidence room. That seemed like a safe place for it and Mom agreed.

  Even if Beowulf ended up being discharged from the 5150 hold, the Fullerton PD sure wasn’t going to give him back a six-foot sword. Not without a ton of paperwork, since he had assaulted poor Archibald Maximus, though there was no evidence of that now. Max claimed he was healed up already. Chalk up one point for dragon spit as a cure-all.

  I was starting to see how handy it was that Mom had this amazing cop friend, even though he did eat a lot of donuts and didn’t talk much, which made him seem kind of stereotyped and not smart in the way that Mom was as a detective. But in other ways, this cop was Mom’s finest non-supernatural ally.

  Then the coolest thing happened. Thorn and I were going to work on the case!

  Mom said that Detective Sherbet had set it up so Thorn and I could go visit Beowulf in the psych ward and hopefully, talk him into giving up the location of the Holy Grail. We weren’t allowed to promise him that his sword would be returned because no way that was happening.

  This was our story, and we were to stick to it: We were going to say to the staff that he might be my lost, visiting grandfather with dementia from Sweden who had disappeared a month ago and that Thorn was my translator—which was actually true. The part about Thorn being the translator, anyway. It wasn’t like anyone else could communicate with Beowulf except Archibald Maximus and Sherbet had nixed that idea because the victim couldn’t visit the perp in the psych ward. That was Plan A.

  We hoped we wouldn’t have to put Plan B into effect because that would require breaking Beowulf out of the lockup and then doing some blood spillage to make him give up the Cup of Forgiveness. With my mom. And Kingsley. And Anthony. And who knew who else. All battling things out. I was hoping things would not come to the Plan B stage because I am super against torture of any kind. I crossed my fingers that it wouldn’t come to that. I also hate the sight of blood, something I could never admit to Mom, who loves the sight of blood, as va
mpires do.

  We were forewarned by Detective Sherbet not to commit violence. My mom was mentally crossing her fingers behind her back when she agreed not to pummel Beowulf for being such a jerk that he had not only stolen a throne, but also a dragon’s treasure and the Holy Grail. Not to mention, he’d killed off all the dragons in that world and starved his serfs, or vassals, or whatever they called them back in the day.

  On a side note, Mom’s entity, Elizabeth, wanted to murder Beowulf and suck his blood to get his power—Mom kept having to tamp her down and make her behave. And I guess Sherbet told Mom she couldn’t see Beowulf because he feared her physical retaliation for Beowulf almost killing poor Max.

  Ah, the power of mind reading. Today, it was coming in really handy!

  I loved how Mom called Elizabeth her ‘inner bitch’ in her head. Mom was really killing it today, as a vampire and as a mother.

  I was so proud of my mom… she was so bad-ass!

  My mother, Samantha Moon, was as lethal as she was gorgeous. The edgiest thing about her was just how much she enjoyed justifiable homicide, preferably of other supernaturals—only evil ones, of course. At first glance, it might have been easy to blame her penchant for these brutal slayings on Elizabeth. But apart from Elizabeth’s natural inclination toward murder and mayhem, Mom herself had a strong sense of justice and wasn’t swayed by her inner bitch, not that I could tell anyway. As well as being an expert private investigator, I was certain that she enjoyed being a calculating judge, jury, and sometimes, executioner of baddies who would not likely be missed.

  Out of idle curiosity, I looked at Kingsley and read his mind. This was a sample from the cringe-worthy ongoing monologue that he thought about Mom:

  Samantha is one hell of an interesting girlfriend. I’m glad to have her on my side, and I’d be wise to be terrified of her if I ever faced her as an opponent. It isn’t easy to kill werewolves—we’re a hardy species—but I’ve seen her kill werewolves, other vampires, and more.

  Yep, it was a nauseating and constant stream-of-consciousness from the smitten werewolf as he mooned over my vampire mom. Ha-ha, yeah, I said, “mooned.” And “smitten.”