by Einat Segal
He scowls. "It's none of those things."
He takes a step away from me. "Sophie, suppose . . ." He pauses to think. "Suppose I told you I have . . . powers. Like . . . I don’t know . . . Superman."
I snort. He got me; he really got me. I was sure he was serious, and I got so tense. I double over, giggling.
But he doesn't laugh with me. He sticks his hands in his pockets and frowns. He doesn't move. There's nothing humorous about his expression. My laughter dies as quickly as it came.
"So, you're Superman?" I can't keep the mocking tone from my voice.
"Sort of? Not exactly."
I cross my arms defensively, wondering if all this time I overlooked the fact that Landon is mentally ill. "You can fly and stuff? Were you, like, born on a different planet?"
"Well, I can fly—”
"Please don't try to fly off this hill. FYI, gravity is a thing that kills people."
He chortles. I relax a little. Maybe this is a joke. "I knew you wouldn't take this well."
"Right, because people claiming to be Superman—”
"Okay, okay, not Superman. X-men? Lord of the Rings?"
"You think you're a hobbit now?"
Landon raises his hands in frustration. "No, no, that's not what I'm saying."
"Then what are you saying?"
"Let me demonstrate," he says, taking a step back.
"Don't jump off the—”
"Not jumping off the cliff." He presses his palms together and then bends to touch the ground.
It hasn't snowed yet this year, and the hilltop is covered with wild grass visible in the pale moonlight.
But when Landon touches the ground, everything around us, the whole hilltop, grows grey, as if it turns to ash.
He straightens up, exhales, and spreads his arms.
And in one instant, the hilltop bursts with life, flower buds and green leafy plants shooting out of the cold December earth all around us. They grow rapidly and large, their stems rising up and up until they reach my waist. Then with one last jerk, the buds open into huge violet flowers.
I try not to touch anything. "Holy fuck." I take my hands to my hair. "Fuck! Oh my God! What the hell?”
I turn to him, eyes shining. "You were trying to tell me you're like Gandalf?"
"Well, actually, no. Lord of the Rings was a horrible comparison. I'm not completely . . . human. I’m a—”
"Wait." I want to take a step away from him, but I'm too creeped out by the magic flowers to move. "Please don't tell me you're a vampire."
"Vampire? What? Why would you even . . . ?" He frowns, very clearly insulted. "What's the deal with vampires? They're disgusting."
"You're telling me that vampires actually exist?" I ask in a flat voice.
"They're a type of zombie, but they eat blood instead of brains. There hasn't been a vampire outburst since the Vietnam War.”
“Then a werewo—”
“There’s no such thing,” he hisses.
I blink. I look at the flowers and remind myself what just happened. I look at the sky. I'm not sure I like where this conversation is going. I’m not onboard with this, with any of this. "Hey, Landon," I say, my voice choked.
He gazes at me apprehensively.
I somehow can't meet his eyes. I turn around to stare not at the scenery but at the road behind us. "I don't think this is going to wor—”
"Sophie, get down! It’s an ambush!” Landon rams into me, pushing me face-first into the plant-covered ground.
I cry out in surprise as something blazing crashes into the hilltop, making the earth shudder and setting fire to the green plants.
I look up to see something that my eyes refuse to register.
Something alive.
Something huge.
Something impossible.
"Whatever happens, stay down and don't move,” Landon's voice cries in my ear.
And he's gone from my side.
Nothing will ever be the same again.
* * *
It looks like a huge black snake with two legs, a lizard’s head, and gigantic bat wings. Is that a dinosaur? A dragon? It slithers in my direction. I can feel the vibration of its powerful legs as they pound the ground. Behind it, I notice more similar creatures making their way toward me.
But before they get too close, some bird cries out, and a bright light shines in front of me. I'm forced to look away.
When I look up again, my eyes can't focus on anything. I see nothing but blotched colors mingled with darkness and flashes of light. Am I going blind? I look at my hands and sag with relief when at least they're clearly defined.
Maybe part of me is refusing to accept that what's happening is happening. Or maybe it's the shock of it. In one instant, my life becomes the stuff of dreams: senseless, terrible, illogical, and at the same time, whimsical.
The earth won't stop shaking. There are voices speaking, shouting at the edge of my hearing.
I'm too scared to move. I want to wake up and for none of this to be real.
"He’s blinded you to what’s happening tonight?" says a man's voice with a peculiar accent by my side. I look at the direction of the voice, and I'm almost relieved to see an actual man.
But he isn't an actual man, says a small voice inside my head. He's in on what's happening here.
He’s undoubtedly handsome, in his early twenties, with dark-brown skin and broad shoulders.
He kneels so his face can be level with mine. I'm still crouched on the ground on my hands and knees. It’s cold despite the fire burning the hilltop, but my blood is pumping too much adrenaline for me to notice.
"He tells you the truth about our world, but he doesn't have the courtesy to invite you inside?" The man shakes his head in disapproval. "Come, señorita, behold the beautiful and ugly world. The incredible, wretched, and glamorous world. The world that is pure and tainted. The world of monsters.”
He gestures with his hand, as if moving aside a curtain. "It is, after all, your world as well as ours."
The scene before me comes into focus again. The shapes all become creatures, and there's a battle raging on the hilltop. It's like watching mountains fighting. Each of these monsters towers high above me.
There are four of those lizard-snakes and two feline-like monsters, each one the size of a small truck. The felines look like normal lions right off the Discovery Channel, but their heads are shaped like a totem pole with women’s faces drawn on the flat surface, and their front paws are actually hands—like a human’s.
They're all attacking what appears to be a gigantic bonfire that weaves and lightly dances among them with an almost hypnotizing rhythm and fluidity. It takes me a moment to realize that this fire is actually another monster. From what I can make out, it has a bird’s head, talons, and wings, but its lower body is like a lion. Looking at it makes my eyes water. I want to look away, but at the same time, I’m mesmerized.
My eyes avert themselves before my brain can fry.
"Magnificent, isn't he, the last gryphon?” says the man next to me. I almost forgot that he's here. "So much power, and so much control. Even we wyverns can't stare at him for long when his magic burns strongly."
I ignore this “man”—or did he just call himself a wyvern? At the moment, he’s the least of my worries. I get over my shock long enough to be able to control my limbs. I can't talk just yet. If I open my mouth, all I'll do is scream.
I begin crawling backward toward the road that I know is behind me. I don't dare turn my back to these monsters. That's a silly notion, because if they decide to eat me, I won't be able to stop them whether I’m facing them or not. But “rational” is irrelevant.
This is all I'm capable of right now. I want to crawl toward the road, reach civilization, and call my mommy to pick me up. I want to go on with my life as if all this never happened. I want to wake up and never have another nightmare again.
"Where are you going, Sophie Green?" asks the wyvern-man. He grabs my upper arm,
forcing me to rise onto my knees. He tugs me toward him so he can whisper in my ear. “You get to watch how we and the sphinxes tear apart your gryphon lover. You saw what he could do, pulling out the life that surrounds him only to use it for his own selfish magic. He’s done it before, a long time ago. He hasn't changed. He’s dangerous and must go down.”
I have no idea what he's talking about, but at least with a human-shaped person, my instincts kick in. The heel of my hand shoots diagonally right into his nose.
His head flies back, but he doesn’t release my arm or lose balance. Instead, he rises, pulling me to my feet, and grabs me by the hair so that I’m forced to look at the monsters again. I try to pull away, but the more I do, the stronger his grip becomes. It’s like he’s made of iron or rock, and nothing I do will move him.
“Orien—or whatever his name is these days—why does he keep you? There can only be one reason, aside from the physical pleasure, of course.” He tugs on my hair, forcing my head back so he can peer into my face. “You have it. He gave it to you. Where is it hidden? Hm? I can’t see it.”
His eyebrows knit together, a look of disbelief mixed with disappointment marring his face. He lets go of my hair, only to bring his hand to my waist, his fingers digging like claws into my stomach.
“You don’t have it,” he growls in my ear.
I don’t know what he thinks I’m supposed to have, but I’ve had enough. I lift my foot from the ground backward, thrusting my heel up right into his crotch.
Even monsters have balls. He howls, letting go of me. I start running toward the road with all my might, my feet hammering the shaking ground. I’m running like I’ve never run before. Tears blur my vision. If I reach the road, I’ll somehow be safe, this will all be over, and everything will be all right.
I run and I run.
I reach the deserted road.
I stand on the asphalt.
And I’m wrong.
A force hits me from behind. I send out my hands to stop my fall as I crash into the road. Something hard catches me around my waist in a crushing cinch, and I’m lifted into the air with a loud flapping sound, followed by a vigorous jerk that makes my head whip back. I’m thrown to the ground of the hilltop a moment later, and a white serpent-lizard—a wyvern—lands almost on top of me. I swim in and out of consciousness, my focus returning only to find the wyvern cocking its bright white head down toward my face
“Where is it, human?” it asks. I have no idea where its voice is coming from because its mouth doesn't move. “I have no need to kill you, but I will if you don’t tell me.”
I can’t say anything. I still can’t speak. I don’t know what the fuck it’s talking about, but if I say that, it won’t believe me.
An ear-splitting eagle’s screech from the battle distracts us both as the gryphon rises into the air, latching its talons into one of the other wyverns. The creature instantly turns grey as ash, and I don’t know what happens next because the gryphon’s light becomes too bright to look at.
I close my eyes.
And the screaming starts.
Long, agonized howls curled with pure terror fill my ears. Then there’s silence, supreme and utter silence disturbed only by the crackling of flame and the whistle of the wind.
“That wyvern’s death is on your head, Shaldorn, you traitorous fool,” says Landon’s voice—except it’s not exactly his voice. I open my eyes. Including the white wyvern, all the monsters are sprawled on the ground. Only the gryphon remains upright, sitting with its wings neatly folded to the sides of its body. I still can’t look at it for long. I look at the other monsters instead, crouched low, shivering with fear.
“We can’t afford to have our numbers dwindle this way. I hoped our need would rise above your personal grudge,” Landon—or the gryphon—is addressing the white wyvern next to me. He raises his eagle’s head to the sky and says, “He’s coming.”
The flaming feathers melt away, like watercolors washing from a paintbrush, and the monster transforms into a person, a human.
Landon.
The other monsters still don’t move, but I can’t take my eyes off Landon. It’s so dark, and he’s little more than a silhouette against the background of the twinkling lights of my town. I still know it’s him.
There’s a rolling, rumbling gurgle sound, followed by a leathery flap. I look up. The moon, the stars, and the clouds are blotted out by a new monster, one I don’t have to see clearly to know what it is. It circles overhead, coming lower and lower. Its wingspan must be the size of my whole street.
It lands with remarkable grace for its size on the edge of the cliff, the last two beats of its wings sending gusts of wind that almost blow me back toward the road.
It stands poised, stretching its long neck. I can just make out its shape and that the scales on its body are metallic and bronze.
My heart clenches with awe and fear.
It’s a dragon.
A dragon.
“Little One, noble one,” says the dragon in a voice so deep, I feel it in the ground beneath me and inside my bones at the same time. Unlike the wyvern, the dragon’s mouth does move when it speaks, revealing an ember-like glow with every word. “These wyverns are traitors, and the sphinxes are your enemies. They stand defeated yet alive. Will you enact a punishment for their crimes?”
“I will,” Landon says. “I banish all of you from this continent. Shaldorn, your connection to Mexico is now severed. It is no longer your territory. You will heed my command or suffer death.”
The white wyvern at my side raises its head. “The girl, why do you need her?”
“Traitors can’t ask questions,” Landon replies, although I’m curious to know the answer myself. “You have till dusk tomorrow to disappear from the Americas, along with your clan.”
Just like that, all the monsters except one rise and run or fly away. I bring myself into a sitting position, but I don't move. The dragon walks on massive yet agile feet to stand by Landon, looking down at the one monster that didn’t rise. Right before my eyes, its ash-grey hide begins to crumble.
“I’m sorry I had to kill her,” Landon says mournfully. “She was the weakest of them all. Her death brings the least damage.”
Like sand, the ash dissolves in the wind, leaving behind a pale body of a dead woman. “Is her name gone from your memory?” asks the dragon.
Landon nods. “She’s gone without even the slightest echo. She won’t be born again. This life was truly her last.”
The dragon bends its long neck and opens its mouth widely, lifting the woman’s body and swallowing her whole. Then it spreads its wings, and the remaining flames on the hilltop vanish. “Shaldorn won't leave the Americas. He knows you won’t risk another death. We will regroup. There is another traitor in our inner circle. We must be wary. I believe it won’t be long until the sphinxes learn about the SET,” the dragon says, and then points its narrow snout right at me. “This mess is yours to clean.”
The dragon’s massive wings begin to flap. My arms come up to shield my face as it rises into the air, sending freezing gusts of wind mixed with ash at me. The last echoes of its wingbeats die down when it finally flies away.
Even when we’re alone again, I still don’t move or look at the boy who I know is also a monster.
"Well, that really wasn't how I planned to tell you," Landon says as he walks up to me. It's clear to me by his tone that he can't see what's happening here. He has no idea what's going on inside my head.
It's up to me to make him understand. I struggle to my feet, my whole body’s bruised and my muscles are fatigued, as if I just finished a triathlon.
"Are you hurt?" Landon asks, breaking into a jog to cover the last distance.
"Stop, don't come any closer," I call. These are the first words that come out of my mouth this entire time, and my voice is thick and hoarse.
Landon stops, and his expression’s like a knife to the heart. Now he can see how I'm melting away from him like a sp
oon of sugar dissolving in too much tea. There's a rift cutting between us. He furrows his brow, looking at me with eyes shining with tears.
Or maybe it's all an act.
"Are you mad at me for being so different?" he asks.
There's a cacophony of screaming voices inside my head. They all sound more or less like me, but I don't know which one to listen to. So instead of being clear, instead of looking right at him and giving him a piece of my mind, I avoid his eyes.
“What the hell? What the hell, Landon? Superman? Gandalf? Really? You're fucking Buckbeak!"
"Hey, I'm a gryphon, not a hippogriff. That's—"
"Do I look like I care?" I yell. Yes, I'm yelling now. That's it, I'm beyond the point of normal speech. "Landon, I'm freaking out, okay? That wyvern thing almost killed me, and I just saw a real dra—" I pause, gaping at him. "Fuck, your uncle, the Dragon of Manhattan, is an actual dragon?"
"He's not really my uncle," Landon says.
"Forget it," I say, shaking my head. There are tears on my face, and I know this time, it isn't the wind. I open my mouth and close it. Suddenly, I recall the dragon eating that dead woman.
I fight the urge to puke.
"Sophie," he says, taking advantage of my silence to make his plea. "Whatever else, I do have feelings for you. I've never felt like this about anyone, and I'm . . . I've lived more than a hundred lives without ever being in love."
What does that even mean? I don't ask him. The less I know about all this, the better. I refuse to be that girl who threw away every bit of herself for a guy. I'm not going to just stand by as my world gets torn open and my life is threatened.
"Each time I die, I'm born again as someone else. I live some of my life without knowing, and then it comes back to me, and when it does, just when I begin remembering all the lives I lived before, Revenna finds me and kills my family and takes me away. She always knew that I’m stronger than her. But this time, she’s dead, and this is the first time that I—"
"Stop it. Just stop.” My voice is high. I shake my head. "I don't want to know who you really are. I don't want to remember this day. I don't want to ever see you or talk to you again."