by K W Quinn
Reyah wasn’t distracted by the glow for long. It became a part of the background noise, another part of the scenery. It should have reassured her, but she didn’t notice that she wasn’t noticing it for a long time. She was too interested in the anecdotes the target was telling. They were self-deprecating and hilarious. He grew more endearing with each tale of mishap and bad luck.
As dinner was winding down, the dancer finally cut in and began talking about the performance. The four of them lingered over dessert and coffee, concentrating on the breakdown and lulled by the low rasp of the dancer’s voice.
“So, that’s the head part. Tomorrow, let’s work on the feet and the hands,” Dez said with a nod. “Kaida, meet us back by the beach north of town at sunrise, and we’ll get to work.”
“Me?” Reyah asked.
At the same time, the target complained loudly, “Sunrise?”
The Bonded was staring at Reyah. He was observant enough to make a good Dragon, always watching the unobvious choice. How unfortunate for her.
“Hush, loves. I run the show,” Dez said. She stood and shook her hair out of her face. “Thank you for a lovely meal, Kaida. You ask the right questions, and I can see from the way you carry yourself that you know the way your body works. Come learn new ways to work it. It might help you on your journey. Couldn’t hurt, at any rate.”
“I’ll be there.” Maybe this way, she could sneak and steal the soul in the middle of the night for real this time. It was an acceptable risk.
The target and the Bonded both stood, nodding to Reyah. The target smiled at her and stretched a hand out.
“See you in the morning then.” His hand was still warm, and Reyah found it was easy to match his smile with one of her own.
He was so present. It was hard to describe, but it felt like his whole self was right here in the moment. So many people were off thinking about the future or worrying about the past, but not this target. He was very here.
The trio left, and Reyah made her way back to her car. She would treat herself to a hotel tonight. One more night wouldn’t hurt. If she had to be up at dawn, the least she deserved was a full shower and a bed with sheets.
Four
“I’m just saying that she was beautiful. And strong. Objectively speaking,” Cass protested.
“And I’m just saying that you fall in love with every beautiful thing you see,” Andy countered before yawning into his elbow.
“Must be why I love you,” Cass said, nudging Andy with his shoulder before yawning too. Andy rolled his eyes and made a show out of pretending to gag. It didn’t stop Cass from smiling, though. Andy was adorable when he was grumpy.
“It’s too early for this.”
Cass wasn’t sure that Andy’s eyes were fully open.
“For what?” Cass asked cheerily.
Andy waved his hands in Cass’s general direction limply.
“For all of me? I’m wounded,” Cass groaned, clutching his hands to his chest.
“How are you so chipper this morning? Usually, I’m dragging you out of bed by your toenails after shutting off the seventeen alarms you’ve slept through.”
“Ah, dear Andronicus, that is the key. To wake up, one must first sleep. If you don’t do the first, then you cannot do the second. Therefore, as you can see, I’m not newly awake but still awake, so I have all the built-up energy of hours of contemplation.”
“You should be falling asleep where you stand,” Andy grumbled, giving Cass a sidelong glance.
“Wait for it, dear friend. I’m sure my collapse is imminent, but for now, I’m fueled by infatuation and insomnia. To the beach.”
“Blood and ash,” Andy sighed.
They made their way down the soft, shifting sand to the firmer ground where the tide had recently receded. Dez and Kaida were already there, moving through some fancy arm movements. Cass felt a flutter in his belly. He watched Kaida move. He watched her dark braid sway. She was stunning. Lean and strong. She could probably bench press him.
“You’re drooling,” Andy said. Cass reached out to smack whatever part of him he could reach.
In the pale light filtering through the clouds, her skin seemed to almost glow. What little of it he could see. She kept herself pretty well covered. He thought he might, too, if he were blue and scaly, because human beings were notoriously horrible and ruined everything. How cool would it be to have actual dragon blood? Strength and speed and all the rest. Whatever that was.
Kaida wasn’t very forthcoming about it. Cass had tried to be delicate in his questions at dinner. He didn’t want to make her feel awkward for being different. He got enough of that being an Air. He wouldn’t want to put that on anyone else.
“Come on, loves, you’ve got some catching up to do,” Dez called. Andy and Cass sped up and joined Kaida on the sand in front of their teacher.
Andy and Kaida took to the moves like fish to water. Cass struggled. He wasn’t as flexible, and he hardly used his body for anything more athletic than riding his bike around town. He watched Dez intensely. It should be possible. They were doing it, but his limbs didn’t respond the way he wanted. While Andy and Kaida moved on to entire dances, Cass was stuck practicing the same move over and over until his muscles knew it well enough to do it without thinking.
Sweaty and sore, Cass crumpled to the sand and asked, “Can I take a break?”
Dez squinted at him and nodded. Andy and Kaida dropped down to sit with him, sharing a grateful smile.
“Beaches should be for bonfires and s’mores,” he grumbled.
“I’ve never had s’mores,” Kaida said.
Cass gaped at her. “What kind of crazy childhood did you have? S’mores are a gift from the universe. Perfection in the mix of textures and flavors.”
“Don’t get him started,” Andy said with a shake of his head.
Kaida shrugged. “My dad was busy. He taught me a lot of stuff, but I think I missed the chapter on fire-cooked food.”
“You’re missing out. Dez, we have to fix this grave injustice,” Cass called.
“Rest, loves, and leave the planning for another time.” Dez scrubbed a hand through her hair. “Keep your mind on the dancing.”
“You’re doing great,” Andy said, nodding at Kaida. She took a drink from the jug of water Dez handed her.
“Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself. You been dancing long?” She offered the jug to Andy, who drank greedily.
“Two days,” he said, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth.
“Really? You look so natural.”
Andy ducked his head but beamed at the praise. Cass squinted at them both, jealous of their easy conversation. And possibly more.
“I at least have the good manners to look like I only started dancing today,” Cass interjected. Andy and Kaida turned to him and smiled together. They had been doing everything together. Cass felt an unreasonable grumpiness bubbling in his chest and tried to find a better attitude.
“I appreciate your authenticity,” Kaida said graciously. “But it must be frustrating. What’s something you’re good at?” she asked.
Cass beamed, hopping up and grabbing a stick of driftwood.
“Oh, here we go. You started this, Kaida.” Andy chuckled.
Cass dragged his stick through the wet sand, hopping and stepping around his trails. When he finally straightened with a flourish, Kaida cocked her head to the side before she smiled and laughed.
He laughed too. Her smile was so cute. She scrunched her nose, and Cass noticed that her front teeth were a little too large. Like a bunny. A cute, scrunchy-nosed bunny.
“That was a strange kind of dance,” she said.
“To appreciate it, you have to stand.” Cass offered her his hand.
He lifted her easily, and for a moment, they stood nose-to-nose, too close to be comfortable. But he didn’t want to move away. He could see the different flecks of blue in her striking eyes. Her vertical pupils were exotic and intriguing.
S
he stepped back and peered around Cass before stepping closer to look at the drawing in the sand. She was silent for a long moment, and Cass was afraid he’d messed everything up. Offended instead of complimented.
“It’s a dragon. I hope that—”
“It’s beautiful,” she said softly. She crouched down and touched the outline of the dragon’s eyes. “I don’t know how you can capture such an expression with a few lines. And in sand too.”
“Well, I had a beautiful example to inspire me.”
She turned her head to him, eyebrows drawn down. Wasn’t she used to hearing how beautiful she was? She moved with such confidence. She obviously knew she was stunning.
“Thanks,” she said.
“All right, mutual appreciation club,” Andy teased.
“Back to it, loves,” Dez called. “I’d offer to pull the sweat off you, but that’s more salt than I can handle.”
They all groaned but fell in line. Cass worked until his arms and legs felt like jelly, but he finally learned what he needed to. Andy and Kaida were already doing most of the new dance together, moving like they’d had months rather than hours of practice. Cass smiled and swallowed his jealousy. Andy was right. He did love beautiful things.
They moved back to the spot where Dez had set up her makeshift picnic and snacked from her cooler.
“Soon, we can try lifts, I think. You’ve got the strength,” Dez said, jutting her chin toward Andy and Kaida.
“Don’t underestimate the skinny one. He’s got more than meets the eye,” Andy replied.
Lying on the blanket, Cass smiled and watched the clouds drift by. He let his mind wander. Andy asked more questions about weight distribution and foot placement. The clouds were thick and fluffy, with soft trails streaming around them. Cass imagined those trails curling around, like a cat settling for a nap.
After a moment, Andy stretched out next to him. “That one looks like a duck,” he said, pointing to a cluster of clouds. Cass searched the sky for a shape of his own.
“A whale,” he said and pointed.
“A cat,” Andy said, and to Cass’s surprise, the cloud he’d been looking at earlier had drawn the sweeping trail around and separated until it looked like a perched and watchful cat.
“Yeah, a cat.” He sat up on his elbows. “What do you see, Dez?”
“Two lazy assistants,” she said with a grin and peeled an apple.
Targeted
Reyah munched her apple slices, plucking them from the blade Dez offered. The target and Andy lay on the blanket, identifying cloud shapes. It was pointless. Dragon training didn’t leave much room for frivolity. Physical rest was spent learning, and brain breaks were for building strength.
This beach was teaching her many things, especially about innocence and relaxation. She wasn’t graceful yet, still too blocky and sharp in her movements. She was a fighter, but she could feel the dancer inside herself. Maybe dance was a useless skill to have, but Tarone said a Dragon was always learning. Maybe it would be useful later. Maybe she could use it for a cover story one day.
“Have you gained any clarity, little dragon?” Dez asked quietly.
Reyah glanced at her and was surprised that Dez wasn’t smiling. She seemed to always be smiling. Except when she was correcting the dances, but even then, the smile wasn’t gone for long. Here, the seriousness in her face showed the wisdom of her years.
However many that was. Reyah could never accurately guess human ages, and when you misidentified a twenty-year-old as a fifty-year-old, they got upset. But Reyah was eighty-seven, which was still decades shy of middle age.
Dez’s eyebrows raised at the pause.
“I know I like this. This feels good.”
“Good. You have a gift for it. Something is stirring in the pond for me to find two gifted pupils out of the clear blue. And Cass.”
Reyah chuckled. “He’s trying.”
“He is. And when he gets it, he will be good. He doesn’t have the practice you and Andy have. He’s not used to his body. You know yours down to the scale, if you don’t mind me saying.”
Reyah shook her head. “No. I trained for a long time. When your default state is brute strength, you have to become very aware of yourself.”
“You’re not a brute now,” Dez coaxed.
“No. I’m not a raging hatchling anymore, either.”
“Were you hatched?” Dez gasped.
“No, just an expression.” Reyah laughed. Her eyes were drawn again to the target, who was now poking Andy with his elbow.
“You watch him like he matters,” Dez observed, lowering her voice to not be overheard. Reyah turned to Dez and kept her face blank. “He has that kind of charisma. He’s open to everything, and it’s a bit irresistible.”
Reyah nodded and chewed on her bottom lip. “Did you warn them about me?” Dez shook her head. “Because he never once flinched at my skin. Lots of people are good about minimizing their shock, but I still see it. A little gasp, eyes widening or squinting. They pull back or push closer. Most people react. You did. Andy did.”
“Ah, if Water is accepting and takes everyone in, Air is understanding and lifts everyone up.” Dez handed over the last slice of apple.
“You think those stereotypes matter?”
“They start honestly, then get twisted, but there can still be seeds of truth in them. People are complicated, but we’re also simple creatures with few needs. There are exceptions to every rule, but that doesn’t mean the rules are wrong.” Dez wiped the knife off on her pants and then sheathed it.
“So you think the Earth is right to rule?” Reyah leaned forward. Maybe she could trust Dez. Maybe they weren’t so different.
“Salt and spit. No.” Dez rolled her eyes. Reyah’s lungs felt cold inside her chest. She had tried to ignore that this woman she respected was against the very things she worked to protect.
“The Conglomerate isn’t what Earth should be, and Earth should know that without Air and Water, it’s just dust.” Dez dug her feet into the sand. Reyah heard the truth, but her life was dedicated to upholding justice. She couldn’t turn from that.
“But Fire, drawn to power, has given the Earth teeth and the reach to make a mess of order and balance.” Dez ruffled her short hair. “I look like this, and I’m treated like trash in Earth towns. Most towns are Earth towns these days. Airs are always on the move, and Waters don’t like being told where to go. Most Waters these days cooperate for the benefits it brings, but I swear, we’re just one good shove away from revolution at any given minute.”
Reyah paused with a bite of apple halfway to her mouth. It was one thing to dislike the Conglomerate. Most people didn’t like following too many rules. But revolution was a different matter.
Andy rolled over and faced Dez. “You said something about a revolution before, Dez. And a mist-stalker?”
“Mistwalker,” the target corrected, pulling himself around to face Dez too.
“That’s right, loves. The legend of the Mistwalkers is an old one. It’s a good story. This isn’t the first time in history that the Earths have grabbed more than they should.”
“I didn’t know there was a time when they didn’t own everything,” Andy said.
“Because I’ll bet you went to an Earth school in an Earth town, taught by Earth teachers and surrounded by Fire guards, policemen, lawyers, and the works.” Andy nodded, and Dez continued. “So, the legend goes like this, and Poseidon willing, we will see a legend again in our lifetime.”
Reyah leaned in, giving herself over to the story. It was just a story. No harm in entertainment. She could take a minute to pretend that legends could fix the turmoil inside and around her.
“When there was balance, all things worked together for the benefit of all people. Water nourished the Earth. Air spread seed and breathed life. Fire brought the light, and together, there was enough to eat. Everyone had their duties and worked together. Now, it wasn’t perfect, because people aren’t perfect, but there was
balance. No one Element was more important than the others. Everyone knew that it took all of them to live.
“But the Earth was arrogant and vain. They ruled the soil and thought everyone should bow to them. Fire joined with the Earth, and together, they claimed all lands as theirs. Water and Air, who never had places of their own, kept moving and paid no attention. Soon, they found they had no place left to go because the Earth banned them from their spaces. So they joined together, and the Mistwalkers rose up.
“Mistwalkers have rare magic. Born of Water and Air, they can reach up to the sky and shape the clouds and call the rain or stop it from falling. They came together, and the Mistwalkers stopped the rain, only bringing relief to their own people. Total drought. Crops withered. Food ran out, and the Earth and Fire were brought to their knees. Balance would have been restored.”
“Would have been?” Andy asked.
“Earth is stubborn, and Fire craves vengeance. After agreeing to the terms of peace, the Fire and Earth betrayed it all. The Mistwalkers were punished. Slaughtered. The Water became afraid and bowed to the Earth to save themselves. Air fled, living in the spaces between towns, always on the run.” Dez folded her hands. “And now we wait, through generations, for another Mistwalker to be born. To rise and bring back balance.”
Reyah sighed softly. “Lovely.” It was a very different side of things than she was used to hearing, but Dez told a lovely tale—however much, or little, truth it contained. That was a problem for another time.
“It’s a legend told to Water children at night. Few believe it’s possible. All the Mistwalkers were killed. Airs scattered, and if Air and Water children are born now, they don’t know their heritage, raised by nomadic parents who run from persecution.” Dez stood and spread her arms wide. “But I keep the legend alive. I believe. I have hope because resistance is in the tiny details.”
“A revolution,” the target said. Reyah noticed the glow around him pulsing. He was excited. She could almost feel it as an echo in her pulse. The pull to change, to heal corrupt things, filled her with each breath. What if she changed, turned her training to a different course?