The Silver Moon Elm

by MaryJanice Davidson

  “Lighten up, Susan.”

  “Lighten up?! You have a poison stinger, Wilson. Ugh, I cannot believe I let you feel me up in the car.”

  “If Jennifer and Catherine can be who they are in this place, so can I.”

  “Skip, it is a bit much to take—”

  “No one asked your opinion, Blacktooth. Don’t you have a sword to bust into pieces somewhere?”

  “Skip!”

  “Aw, Jennifer, I’m just messing with him…”

  “Can we get on with it?” Catherine asked miserably, tapping a toe claw, which gouged divots of dirt the size of dessert plates. “You guys have been drying off for the last hour. We got off to a late enough start this morning—we should get moving.”

  “Jennifer was right yesterday. What’s the big deal? She wanted me to come, and I’m here. If the Blazers can’t handle that—”

  “Blaze,” Jennifer corrected him uncomfortably. It was a bit much to have this conversation with a six-foot-long fat-tailed scorpion. The yellow and gray segmented body dried more quickly, she supposed, than Skip’s normal clothing would. But still…

  “Blaze, whatever. Anyway, I’m going to have to change when we get going again. Catherine and Jennifer can’t carry all three of us at once.”

  She tuned out the conversation and took in the scenery. They were on the shore of the other side of the lake, huddled around a quick fire Catherine had spat up. Everyone had come through the water just fine, with only a bit of shock at the thought that there was a whole other world through the bottom of her grandfather’s lake.

  With only twilight to see by, her dragon sight could still make out the gorgeous expanse of moon elms that got thicker and taller to the north and west. Far above the treetops was the eternal crescent moon, which rolled through the sky without ever changing shape.

  She had been thrilled to see the moon welcome them with its traditional signal of fire. Her grandpa Crawford was up there now. Would he be proud of me? she wondered. He had always had a tense relationship with her beaststalker mother—but then, he had gone ahead and left the farm to her as well, to look after.

  He would agree with Jennifer bringing Skip along, wouldn’t he?

  As if in answer, a distant chord of howls wafted through the trees. Catherine’s head immediately perked up.

  “Newolves!”

  “Newhat?” Eddie’s nose wrinkled.

  “Newolves. They’re like wolves, except they help us hunt, and—”

  “Catherine’s barely ever seen one.” Jennifer giggled, her mind returning to her friends’ conversation. “But she still managed to write a whole thesis on them.”

  “You want to be banned from the Mustang for life?”

  “By which I mean to say, Catherine is a genius on the esteemed topic of newolves.”

  “Yeah, well, whatever they are,” Skip guessed, “I’m sure they won’t be thrilled about me either.”

  “You could try not being a scorpion,” Eddie offered.

  “And you could try getting bent.”

  As the two of them hurled insults at each other, Susan bent over and whispered in Jennifer’s ear, “Which one do you think will pee harder?”

  “Do scorpions even pee?”

  Susan giggled, which made Jennifer feel better. She knew this world was impossibly strange for her friend—the cellolike crickets in the distance, the luminescent morning orange lichen hanging from a few of the moon elm branches, and, of course, the way three of her friends turned into exotic beasts.

  “Let’s go turf-whomping,” she suggested to Catherine. “Skip, if you’re going to keep up with us, you’re going to have to shift into something that can jump.”

  “I can arrange that.” A few moments later, he was something furry and black, with white stripes and three rows of dark brown eyes. “This type runs in my dad’s side of the family an awful lot.”

  “Swell. Catherine, why don’t you carry Susan—she’s lighter. Eddie, climb on.”

  Skip snickered at Eddie, who gave Skip a rude gesture before he straddled Jennifer’s back.

  Off they went, leaping through the forest, Jennifer and Catherine gouging great tufts of turf with their claws, Skip leaping alongside them, eight legs pumping effortlessly to push him thirty feet in the air without breaking a sweat. Assuming spiders could sweat.

  Eddie’s legs clenched around Jennifer’s kidneys, and she felt his heartbeat race against her scaled spine. “Slow down!” he finally called out after they had nearly hit a large moon elm branch.

  “I thought you went riding all the time on your family trips to Wales,” she replied, amused. She rotated just enough to squeeze between two half-fallen elm trunks that were thicker than their own bodies.

  “Horses! I like riding horses! You are not a horse! There’s no saddle! No reins! No spurs!”

  “Damn right there’re no spurs,” she snickered. “Just don’t barf on me.”

  “No promises.”

  “Also, watch out for fire hornets.”

  “Fire what?!”

  “So how the hell do you brush your teeth in the morning?” Susan asked Skip. Her open disgust had largely passed, and she seemed genuinely curious.

  “Mandibles,” he corrected her, merrily clicking them. “And we don’t brush them. We wash them in human blood.”

  “Ugh, Skip, that’s—”

  “Kidding,” he sighed. “Geez, Susan. If Jennifer had said something like that, you wouldn’t have taken it seriously.”

  “Jennifer doesn’t have eight legs.”

  “She—”

  “Jennifer doesn’t have mandibles.”

  “But—”

  “Jennifer doesn’t look like the eternal predators that scuttle across the shower wall and freak me out even when they’re only one-inch long.”

  “You’re prejudiced.”

  “I can’t help my natural instincts. I see lots of legs, I squash.”

  “Skip, you probably should change back to human form,” Jennifer piped up as she did so herself.

  “Why?” Skip asked with all the enthusiasm of an angry cobra.

  “Skip.”

  “This is the real me!”

  “Skip.”

  “I’m being myself. Isn’t that what Crescent Valley is about?”

  “Skip!” She held out her human hands, presenting herself. The message was obvious: If I can do this, so can you.

  “Fine.” He shrugged four of his limbs and shifted back to a human wiseass. “Happy?”

  “A minor improvement at best,” Eddie chirped. He had his land legs back and appeared ready for whatever came next. “How far are we from the Blaze?”

  “The amphitheater is right over this hill. Come on, we’ll walk there together.”

  “Oh, man,” Catherine said with a sigh as they started. “Grammie is going to be so angry.”

  “Now the Blaze might be a bit edgy—”

  “You think?” Skip grinned. He took in the vast amphitheater of grass and stone, with an aged dragon perched on each rock. Very few of them were smiling at any of them.

  “It’s possible they’re a bit anxious,” Eddie observed. “Jennifer, where’s your dad?”

  “Right here” came a voice behind them.

  Jonathan Scales, one of the youngest Elders, was a creeper dragon with shining indigo scales and three horns on his crest. Despite his modest age he still commanded high respect among the members of the Blaze. Jennifer supposed being the father of the Ancient Furnace had its perks. However, his expression suggested the current costs were likely outweighing the benefits.

  “Jennifer,” he greeted her with sharp, gritted teeth. “You brought quite the crowd with you.”

  She stared defiantly at him without a word. He was either going to accept her and her friends or he wasn’t.

  To his credit, he got the message. He let a sigh replace the lecture that must have been forming in his head, and turned to Skip. “Skip. It’s good to see you again. A couple days ago when you d
isappeared from our house, I was afraid you were dead.”

  “Mr. Scales.” Skip nodded slightly. Jennifer guessed he was trying to figure out the Elder’s tone, just like she was. Skip’s disappearance from the house had coincided with Evangelina’s attack on Elizabeth Georges-Scales—and while Jonathan’s wife was now fine, forgiveness may or may not have been in this dragon’s silver eyes.

  His glance moved to the others. “Eddie. Welcome to Crescent Valley. It makes sense that Jennifer would invite you. I’m glad she did. Thanks for coming.”

  Eddie’s sharp features reddened a bit, not entirely a reflection of the fires that surrounded them. “You don’t have to thank me, Mr. Scales. I should be thanking you. I don’t know if you heard yet, but your wife—Dr. Georges-Scales—well, I asked her if I could stay at your house for a while. My dad and I are still working a few things out.”

  Even though Jennifer knew this was the first he was hearing of this, Jonathan Scales did not hesitate. “You stay with us—at our house, or in this world—as long as you like, Eddie. Take your time. Do what you need to do with your parents.”

  Eddie nodded a bit. Jennifer almost hugged her father. Aw, hell. She stepped up and hugged him. “Thanks, Dad.”

  “You’re welcome. I know it will mean a lot to your mom, too. Speaking of your mom, why isn’t she here? Is it because of Wendy?”

  Jennifer nodded. “She’s going to go see Eddie’s mom at the hospital later today. I’m bringing her back with me in a couple of days. We figured you’d understand her—you know, her not coming right away.”

  “I understand.”

  “Great. Um, do I have to shift into dragon shape now? I would have before, but I figured with Eddie and Susan—”

  “Keep your shape, ace. I get it—you want to make your friends more comfortable. It’s a good idea.”

  “Wow. You’re in super-Dad mode.” An idea seized her. “Um, can I have a Ford Mustang convertible? Catherine has one and it drives real—”

  “No.”

  “Worth a shot.”

  “No problem, ace.” He turned to Susan and embraced her. “Susan. I can’t tell you how pleased I am that Jennifer decided to bring you. How’s your dad?” Everyone heard the unspoken question: What did you tell him about the last few days?

  “Hey, Mr. Scales.” She patted the bony crest at the back of his head, then winced and wrung her hands. “Dad’s good. Jennifer’s mom called him and straightened everything out. I’m not in trouble for smashing the car; he’s just glad I’m okay.”

  “It’s probably good he doesn’t know you smashed it into my half-sister,” Skip joked.

  Everyone stared at him.

  He shrugged one shoulder. “Not ready to joke about her yet?”

  A ripple of discontented colors washed over Jonathan’s scales. “Not yet.”

  “Where’s Xavier?” Jennifer blurted out.

  Her father turned to her with a wry look. “Xavier Longtail is patrolling the ocean shores of this world, with a few of his relatives. I imagine he timed his absence to coincide with your arrival.”

  “Good.” Jennifer had no need of Xavier Longtail right now—the Elder dasher had made her miserable when the Blaze discovered her beaststalker half, and while he went along with the Blaze’s plan to make Jennifer an ambassador, he had made his skepticism known.

  “No kidding,” Catherine added. “The last thing we need is for that geezer to—”

  “Catherine.” The voice of the Eldest was unmistakable—Winona Brandfire, Catherine’s grandmother and an elderly trampler, stooped but still powerful. “We are in Blaze.”

  “In Blaze? I thought they were Blaze,” Susan whispered.

  “You can use it both ways,” Catherine whispered back quickly.

  “As long as it’s not too confusing.”

  “Granddaughter!”

  “Sorry, Grammie.” Catherine waved a sullen wing claw at Jennifer. “I guess I should go sit with the others now.”

  “Stay here with me!” Jennifer was surprised how much the plea came out sounding like a command. The others seemed surprised, too. But Catherine didn’t seem insulted. “Please?” she added, just in case.

  “We should start,” Winona announced, licking her teeth. Susan and Eddie took a step back at that gesture. It may have been absentminded on Winona’s part, but Jennifer didn’t think anything this woman did was unintentional.

  “Eldest.” Jonathan put a wing claw on Jennifer’s shoulder. “My daughter, Jennifer, Ancient Furnace to her father’s people and ambassador to her mother’s, has arrived with guests.”

  “So she has,” the Eldest replied. Her inscrutable olive features took in Jennifer, then Susan, then Eddie, and then (with slits of red eyes) Skip. “I’ve heard enough about each of these individuals to have little doubt about who they are. This is quite…something.”

  “M-maybe we should go,” Susan stammered. Her forehead glistened. “I mean, I’m not a dragon, and I’m not a—”

  “Susan.” Jennifer reached out with her right arm and took her friend by the waist. “It’s okay.”

  Susan gave her a nervous grin. “Who says?”

  “I say.” She looked at Winona, who could plainly hear them both. “I know no one here has a problem with this.”

  “No one present, perhaps.” The Eldest stretched her wings and looked up at the deepening sky, gazing to the north and east. “But you are aware this Blaze is not unanimous in their trust of your judgment, Ms. Scales. Perhaps you could have started with a crowd more…true to your original mission?”

  “I brought a beaststalker,” Jennifer pointed out. “Two, if you count me. And my mother’s coming tomorrow.” Resentment welled up inside of her. “And why am I explaining myself? These are my friends.”

  Her father took a half-step toward her. She didn’t look at him, but she did exhale. Right, Dad. Got it. Calm down.

  Winona’s half-smile didn’t budge the scales on her severe reptilian face. “I have friends, too, Ambassador. Regardless of what you may think of me, I do not spend all my time on this mountainside. In my considerable years, I’ve managed to make quite a collection of friends, colleagues, and acquaintances. Not all of them are dragons. But I know the rules. The dragons can come through to this world. The ones who aren’t, stay on the other side. They never even hear of Crescent Valley. That’s why it’s still here.”

  “I really should go.” Susan gave a pleading look. “I’m causing trouble. I don’t want to.” She called over Jennifer’s shoulder. “Ma’am, I don’t want trouble. I’ll just—”

  “You’re not the problem, Susan.” Skip bit his lower lip as he looked around the towering amphitheater with defiance. “I am.”

  Winona did not say anything. She doesn’t need to, Jennifer thought. Should she have left Skip behind? She just wasn’t ready to admit that yet. Having him drive up with them just felt so right—even if he did feel up Susan in the backseat.

  “I don’t belong here,” he called out to the other dragons as much as to Susan or Jennifer. “It’s okay, I’m used to it. It’s not the first time I’ve run into people who’ve made up their minds about me before they really know me. I mean, I thought you all might be a bit more like Jennifer here, but I guess—”

  “A lecture,” Jonathan firmly interrupted, “may not be the best course of action here, Skip.”

  “That’s funny coming from you, Dad.”

  “Irony noted, ace. Skip, perhaps you could let Jennifer introduce Eddie. Then the Blaze could engage an actual, honest-to-goodness beaststalker, as it expected to do today. After that, we can schedule a discussion of whatever cultural or philosophical shortcomings you believe dragons have. Think you can step off the soapbox long enough for that?”

  Skip turned to face Jonathan in full—face, shoulders, and body. His high cheekbones darkened, and his fingers twitched. What’s he doing, Jennifer wondered, some spider version of High Noon?

  One glance at her father was enough for her to know she neede
d to intervene, now. He was not amused by the challenge, and his posture was becoming predatory…

  “Skip, please!” She interposed herself between them. Skip hesitated, and she used the time to talk him down. “Dad’s being an ass, but he’s right: This shouldn’t be about you. Let them talk with Eddie.”

  “Eddie.” He practically spat the name, but he relaxed and sat cross-legged on the amphitheater stones. “Yeah, sure, go ahead, Eddie. Be a hero, if you can.”

  Nose down and chin stuck to his chest, Eddie stumbled forward a couple of steps. Jennifer was pretty sure Susan had pushed him.

  Winona seemed glad of the change in focus. “Edward Blacktooth. What can you tell us of the mood among your people in Winoka? Do you think there is an honest chance for reconciliation?”

  Eddie stared at the ancient presence before him and bobbed his lips a few times. Sensing his need for moral support, Jennifer sidled up next to him and held his hand. The move helped a little in that he stopped gaping at Winona; but now he started gaping at Jennifer.

  She stared hard at him, willing him to talk. Say something, Eddie!

  He finally snapped out of it. “Er, sorry, Ms. Bran—I mean, Ms. Drag—I mean, Eldest. My people? It’s hard to say. Nowadays, with Jennifer and her family making waves, it—er—um…” With an apologetic look at Jennifer and Jonathan, he trailed off miserably.

  “Go on,” Jennifer urged.

  Shrugging his shoulders, he continued. “It’s just that Winoka seems kinda split right now. I know some folks who think Jennifer and her parents are great. I know others who want to hurt them.”

  “Who want to try,” Susan mumbled behind them.

  “Ms. Scales is our ambassador to you,” Winona told Eddie. “She is tasked with finding more beaststalkers like you. Warriors who would talk with us. Are you willing to help her? Can you convince other beaststalkers who might speak up in Winoka for peace?”

  His eyes went wide. “Geez, I want to help Jennifer. But I don’t…I’m not…I couldn’t even finish my rite of passage—”

  “To be fair,” Jonathan said grimly, “you would not be standing here if you had.”

  “I don’t know that I had much say in it all.” Eddie’s completely blunt response made Jennifer smirk. She had kicked his ass. “And failing that test is probably the worst thing I could do to gain the respect of other beaststalkers—especially since I’m already friends with you and Jennifer, no offense.”