by Jensine Odom
Caedryn gently brushes a rogue curl from my face. “Your eyes have changed. They glint in the light when they hadn’t before.” He runs his hand up my shirt, resting it just between my breasts. “You’re warmer than you have ever been as well. By this evening you will begin to feel the energy growing within. We should leave tomorrow morning. I’ll fly you to where you may safely transform.”
“Why do we need to leave? Can’t I safely transform here?” I ask, trying to calm the sudden panic I feel.
“You can transform safely here, but it may not be safe for your family. Your transformation will be unpredictable, and you wish to keep your family safe, yes?” Caedryn reasons, knowing both why I feel apprehensive and just how to convince me to go.
“But Tristin transformed with no problem, and he was like a reawakened dragon,” I counter half-heartedly.
“His transformation was under Alarr’s control. Yours will not be.”
“Oh, okay. That makes sense.”
“Everyone will be all right while we’re gone. It will only be a few days,” Caedryn reassures me, then looks at me thoughtfully, tracing the lines of my face with his fingers. “Did you know you glow? It’s faint; just a soft white, no more than an outline on your skin.” He trails down my neck and across my collarbone, then skims down my arm to find my hand. “I thought my eyes were deceiving me, on the night we first lay together, but it has continued every night since.”
“I had a suspicion that I kind of glowed, but had no proof besides moths and other insects would be attracted to me in the dark.” I squeeze Caedryn’s hand and smile, happy to know I wasn’t crazy all those times. “Thanks for telling me.”
Caedryn just replies with a kiss, and we wander along the trail back to camp hand in hand.
✽✽✽
By the time we reach our little meadow, the tents are all packed up and Kerric tends to several large trout roasting over the fire. The fishy stench hits my nose, making me almost gag, and I hold my breath until I’m upwind. My heightened senses may have made some things smell and taste better, but it definitely made others much worse.
I’m pleasantly surprised to find Baldure and Turhion out in the field together, sparring with my brothers. Caedryn twitches with a few of the blows Zebulon could have used to his advantage, and I can tell he’s just itching to coach them.
“Go ahead.” I nudge Caedryn towards the action. He lifts my hand with a smile, kissing my knuckles, and trots off, calling out a missed opportunity to Tristin.
I move to the nearest rock bench to watch, sitting on the ground and bracing my back against the cool shale. Sitrian rests beneath a tree across from me, joined by Irontooth and Stormwing, and Petrie splashes in the river behind me. The only person I don’t see is Mary, but no one seems concerned by her absence.
Movement at the edge of the trees catches my eye, and I glance over to find Mary walking back from the same trail Caedryn and I had come in on. She’s wearing her oversized sweatshirt, hood up and hands hidden in the pouch.
She walks right by me, but doesn’t even acknowledge my existence, her eyes trained on the ground. Stopping at a boulder beside the river, she lays down, her head in the shade and an arm draped over her eyes.
Curious, and a little concerned, I make my way over, crossing my legs and plopping in the damp grass beside her.
“You alright?” I inquire when Mary doesn’t respond to my presence.
“I’m fine,” she snips, not even bothering to look at me. “I just have a bad headache.”
“Do you want to take something for it? I think we have some ibuprofen in one of the med kits, and if anything, I’ve got plenty of herbs.”
“I’ll be fine. Just leave me be,” she snaps, a definite edge in her voice.
“Alright.” I put my hands up in surrender, forgetting she can’t see me. “Let me know if you need anything.”
Mary just grunts and rolls over, turning her back on me. I roll my eyes and get to my feet. She has a weird energy to her today, but it could just be a combination of my quickly heightening senses and her moodiness because of a headache. I’ll keep an eye on her, just in case, and we’ll take a slow pace for a while. When we stop for the night, I’ll convince her to stay at the Santa Fe settlement.
After watching Mary for another moment, I head back to the campfire, grabbing my bag along the way. Everyone else has come in from the field for breakfast, and Caedryn sits at my rock, pulling at a fresh-cooked trout filet. I wrinkle my nose involuntarily as I sit on the ground at his feet, making sure I’m upwind, and pull my bag around to find my own breakfast.
“There is plenty of fish,” Caedryn mentions as I pull a thick strip of venison out.
“No, thanks,” I assure him, taking a massive bite of my jerky and sighing with pleasure as the savory juices flow into my mouth.
“Do you not like fish?” he asks, watching me curiously.
I shake my head and swallow my bite, watching Tristin with disgust as he purposefully walks by, dramatically biting into his own filet for my benefit. “My aversion to it seems to have grown, too.”
Caedryn nods, accepting my oddity, and Tristin laughs as I pick up a rock and throw it at him, running off to sit with his brother.
With peace restored to my immediate vicinity, I finish eating my deer jerky, then sit quietly, contemplating eating another piece. Maybe just a small one.
Just as I move my bag, something wet splats on the ground beside me, and Petrie squeals with excitement. Then the fish starts flopping around.
Petrie gives an annoyed snarl, but the bass has no intention of obeying. Like chasing a football, the dragonling fumbles around trying to catch the errant fish. Finally, she succeeds, snapping the fish in half, and trots back happily with the back end.
She sets it at my feet and sits back, looking expectant. When I don’t do anything, she nudges the fish closer and gives an encouraging chirrup.
“Is this for me?” I ask non-enthusiastically, and she chirps happily. “Thanks.” I smile and pick up her gift, hoping that’ll get her to leave, but no such luck. Petrie just stays put, watching me, and after another moment she nudges the bass closer to my face.
“I believe she wishes you to eat it,” Caedryn offers helpfully.
“I got that. Thanks,” I retort sarcastically, and my brothers begin to laugh hysterically.
“No balls,” Tristin crows, and falls farther into his fit of giggles.
I glare at my siblings, which only brings on another wave of roaring laughter, and Mary chuffs in annoyance, covering her ears and curling into herself more. Rolling my eyes, I return my attention to Petrie. Maybe I can trick her into thinking I took a bite.
“Mmmm,” I say, acting like I ate some of the fish. “That’s good, thanks.”
Petrie doesn’t fall for it, just canting her head to the side like a dog. She then decides to give me an example, snapping up the other half of the fish and downing it in one bite, looking back to me once more.
“Now, see, I can’t do that. Not yet,” I tell her, looking back at the half a fish in my hand. I can’t do it. Even the thought of taking a bite nearly makes me gag.
“You can tell her you don’t like the fish. She will understand,” Sitrian says, saving me from having to eat the fish.
I sigh and meet Petrie’s nearly solid blue eyes. “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t much care for this,” I confess, hoping I don’t hurt the young dragon’s feelings.
Petrie just squeaks with acceptance, and her demeanor changes. She looks at the fish, then back at me. I laugh, tossing her the rest of her catch, and she snaps it up happily. Petrie bumps her head against mine, her fish breath wafting into my nostrils, then joins her siblings in the field, pouncing on Stormwing’s tail.
I go for another piece of jerky, but think better of it, smelling my hands first. Yep. They smell like fish, and fish blood. And fish guts. I get up, making sure not to touch any of my things, and make my way to the river.
“Puss-puss,
” Tristin says with disappointment as I walk by him and Zebulon.
“I’ll show you puss-puss,” I call back, and quickly turn for my brothers, hands out to wipe the stench on them. They scream and flee, and I stand there triumphantly. “That’s what I thought! Who’s the puss-puss now?!” I laugh and continue on my way, fighting the urge to splash Mary as I clean my hands in the rushing water. That would do nothing for her bad mood. “Are you going to come eat anything?” I ask her instead.
“I’m not hungry,” she answers tersely, and turns onto her stomach, laying her forehead on her folded arms.
“Is Mary all right?” Kerric asks as I return to my seat, looking to her with concern.
“Yeah. She just has a bad headache,” I answer, finally getting a small strip of venison jerky. “By the way, there’s plenty of fish left, if any of you want seconds. I don’t want to be carrying that shit with us.”
Zebulon and Tristin jump to their feet and race each other to where the rest of the fish sits, but Baldure’s already there, piling as much as he can in his huge hand. Undaunted by his sheer size, and the fact he could probably kick both of their asses with his one hand and not drop a single piece of food, my brother’s rush him, tag teaming trying to get some meat.
The three men eventually end their shenanigans, splitting the meat up and feeding whatever’s left to Irontooth, Stormwing, and Petrie. Once all of us have finished eating we head out, continuing to follow the river.
Zebulon and Tristin lead the way for a while, bending branches to try and snap each other; their sporadic cries of pain followed by fits of laughter proving them successful on some occasions.
Mary walks several paces behind all of us, hood up and sunglasses on, refusing to ride Alarr or let anyone walk with her. Where Zebulon seems indifferent to her attitude, Kerric’s overly concerned, and glances back every now and again, like she could just vanish at any given moment.
Unlike Kerric, I don’t need to look to see her. I can feel her at the edge of my awareness, her energy appearing as a nacreous aqua tainted with black. That’s probably because of her headache.
Stormwing and Irontooth roam the forest around us, their energies no longer simply white; Stormwing’s has turned to a dull lavender, and Irontooth’s a rose gold. Petrie’s walking with Alarr, her energy now colored a light azure, like the sky at high-noon; it sparkles momentarily, and Alarr’s golden aura turns a shade darker in direct correlation. He’s annoyed with her.
Need help? I ask him, not bothering to hide my humor.
If you would please, Alarr returns, his irritation apparent. This youngling is incorrigible!
I laugh as Petrie’s energy spikes again, and Alarr gets just that much more annoyed. Petrie, I call, forgetting momentarily that I can only speak to Alarr like this.
Before I can correct myself, Petrie’s energy flickers, and she comes crashing through the trees, happily skidding up beside me. Caedryn looks surprised, but he’s not nearly as shocked as I am.
“Is something amiss?” Caedryn asks, trying to guess at Petrie’s sudden appearance, and glances around.
“Xerxia called her,” Sitrian answers, pride in her voice.
Caedryn looks curiously at me. “You didn’t speak,” he points out, then realization crosses his face.
“It was an accident,” I say, still surprised. “I was speaking with Alarr and just switched my focus to her, but forgot to speak out loud.”
Petrie squeaks and nudges me, clearly wondering what I wanted.
“You need to leave Alarr alone.” I laugh and pat her neck, realizing she’s almost completely blue now, with just a hint of bronze. “Go pester your brother and sister.”
Petrie looks around excitedly, but doesn’t see either of her siblings in our immediate vicinity and hangs her head with a sad huff. I tap her shoulder and point through the trees to where I know Stormwing is, and she runs off with renewed happiness. A moment later, Stormwing’s energy flashes with surprise, and I know Petrie found her.
Thank you, Alarr says, appearing from the trees on the other side of me, relieved by Petrie’s absence.
Alarr startles slightly at a loud crash from where the two younglings are playing, and I laugh, patting his neck. He gives an agitated snort, shaking his head, and walks away, disappearing once more into the trees opposite the rowdy kids.
Eventually the river meets up with the tiny winding highway that runs up the mountainside, and we reach the stretch of private cabins, most of the houses lying in ruins, nothing more than piles of stone and wood. A ‘No Trespassing’ sign is strung across the river at one point, and I snarl. Who were these people to think they could own a piece of the river?!
Without a word, Caedryn helps me cut it down, soothing my irrational anger. Keeping the rope, I toss the slightly rusted sign in the nearest pile of rubble, vaguely wondering if the people were inside when Mother Earth reclaimed what has always been hers.
The noon-day sun beats down on us, warming the forest and filling the air with the scent of pine as we come to the final cabin before hitting the wilderness. Although in disrepair, this one still stands, nestled amongst the trees just off the riverbank, and we take a break to inspect it.
The windows are all broken out, and the door hangs slightly off the hinges, creaking as it sways in the mountain breeze. A raven caws loudly as I step onto the porch, flapping its wings frantically as it struggles to escape through one of the busted windows, and I hit the deck with a scream.
Tristin laughs so hard he nearly falls back down the stairs and narrowly dodges the kick I aim at his shins. Caedryn helps me up, a slight smirk on his face, and I give in, laughing at myself with everyone else.
The furniture inside the cabin is covered in assorted sheets, and all the cupboards are bare, save for the empty butane container. Hunting trophies line the walls, their lifeless eyes staring, and the chandelier in the center of the living room is made of several antlers.
“What a wonderful room of death,” Zebulon comments sarcastically, pulling a dusty sheet off one of the chairs and sitting down.
Laughing, I follow suit, uncovering the loveseat for Caedryn and me. Tristin rips the dingy white sheet off the couch like a magician and jumps into it, stretching out across its length, propping his feet up on one end with a contented sigh.
“You have to share,” I reprimand him, not as forcefully as I had intended.
“I don’t wanna,” he pouts playfully.
“There are others who need to sit.” I gesture to everyone else.
“It’s all right, Xerxia,” Sitrian assures me. “I will keep an eye on the little one.” She walks out the door towards Petrie, the little dragon playing in the river and chasing a dragonfly distractedly.
“I will be fine standing,” Baldure agrees, leaning against one of the beams at the entrance of the living room, the weathered wood creaking under his weight.
“Turhion?”
“I will take the chair,” he says, leaving the antelope head he was inspecting and uncovering the chair opposite Zebulon.
“I will also stand,” Kerric tells me before I can ask him, leaning against the wall where he can also watch Mary.
She sits on the first step on the porch, hood still up, but at least she’s eating. That’s an improvement in my book. We can move at a slightly quicker pace now.
“So, you’re probably all wondering why I called this meeting,” I joke, breaking the silence and getting everyone’s attention.
“I don’t wonder, I know,” Zebulon retorts, pulling a stick of jerky from his bag. “It’s lunchtime!” He rips open the Slim-Jim and dramatically takes a bite.
“That, and we’ll be leaving you in the morning,” I say dryly.
“What?! Why?!” Zebulon chokes on his food.
“Because I’m going to become a dragon, and I might kill you in the process.”
“Oh,” Zebulon replies between coughs.
“It’s only for a few days,” I reassure everyone, feeling an overwhe
lming amount of concern fill the room. “Just until I transform and get the hang of being a dragon.”
“What are we supposed to do in the mean time?” Tristin asks, sitting up now.
“Let’s see how far we get today. If we don’t make it to the lake, keep going and wait there.”
“What about the kids?” Tristin asks, pointing to Irontooth and Stormwing.
“They’ll stay with you. I’ll make sure they know, and leave Sitrian in charge of them.”
“This is really happening,” Zebulon says, as if it wasn’t real until now.
“This is really happening,” I agree, a giddy smile tugging at my lips.
“Where will you be going?” Baldure inquires.
“To where I went dormant,” Caedryn answers. “It isn’t so far from here. Maybe a half-day’s flight.”
“And how will you be getting there? Only one of you can fly,” Tristin points out.
“I will carry her,” Caedryn replies obviously.
“You won’t be too weighed down by her fat ass?” Zebulon jokes, laughing with his brother, and I shoot them both a menacing glare, sticking my tongue out childishly.
“I find her ‘fat ass’ to be quite pleasant, not burdensome,” Caedryn says, smiling at me and resting a hand on my knee.
“Gross.” Zebulon makes a comedically disgusted face.
With a devious smirk, I pull Caedryn into a firm kiss, which he returns passionately, wrapping me in his arms.
“Gross,” Zebulon says again, and I know he’s making that face still.
I break away with a breathless giggle. “Alright, are we ready to go?” I stand, swinging my bag onto my back. “Where’s Mary?” I ask, realizing she’s no longer on the porch, or anywhere in the visible vicinity.
Kerric’s eyes go wide with terror as he turns sharply to where she was. Zebulon stands abruptly, haphazardly tossing his backpack over one shoulder, and the two men race outside, followed quickly by me.
“Mary?” we all call in unison, completely unplanned.
“I’m right here,” she snaps, and walks from behind the cabin. “You can all stop freaking out!”