“What about the guys you started hanging out with earlier this year?” Susan’s suggestion made Jennifer recall the clique Eddie had begun to hang out with when the two of them were unfriendly. “Bob Jarkmand may be a bit of a dunce, but he’s got lots of friends. And he’d be a big friend to have—literally.”
“It’s not a bad idea, Susan. Bob’s a big guy, and he’ll probably be a heck of a beaststalker someday. But I think Jenny kinda blew that deal when she brushed him off at the hospital…”
Jennifer winced as Susan gaped at her. “Bob Jarkmand asked you out? And you shot him down?”
“Yeah.” She felt hundreds of stares upon her as she related the latest quirk of her crazy love life. “I know that he comes from a beaststalker family, but I couldn’t…I’m not…he’s just…”
“Undateable?” Catherine guessed.
“Right on. Hey, listen, folks, if I’ve gotta date every beaststalker boy in Winona just to give peace a chance…I just don’t have the energy.”
“Or the contraceptives!” Susan teased, ignoring Jonathan’s glare.
“If we could get back to conventional diplomatic methods,” Winona almost begged. “Mr. Blacktooth, we need your leadership. Can you talk to other beaststalkers and get them to join you?”
Eddie, who for the last few moments had appeared to want to sneak out of the amphitheater, flinched at the return of this topic. His shoulders were slumped and his hair hung limply over his sparrowlike features. “You don’t understand, ma’am. Bob Jarkmand, he won’t—I mean, I don’t think anybody would pay much attention if I—”
“But will you try?” The trampler leaned in, her voice burning with ferocity.
Jennifer took Eddie’s hand again and squeezed. He looked at her, but all she could see in his brown eyes was fear. Fear of Bob Jarkmand, and the other kids at school. Fear of his parents, and what they would say. Probably even a little fear of Jennifer herself. Come on, Eddie. Stand up. Take the lead. I’ll help you. She wanted to say these things, but she knew Eddie had to answer for himself.
He finally turned away from Jennifer and mumbled at the ground in front of the Blaze’s Eldest. “I could talk to one or two friends, I guess. But I don’t think they’ll listen. I mean, I can’t even hold a sword right…”
Winona ground her teeth in obvious frustration. Jennifer let go of his hand. Oh, Eddie. She didn’t know what made her feel worse—the boy’s complete lack of confidence, or how his spinelessness had cost them all a chance to come together.
“Perhaps when my wife arrives, Eldest,” Jonathan suggested, “we might have better luck devising a diplomatic strategy.” He didn’t seem too optimistic.
Winona rubbed the ridge of her skull with a wing claw. “Perhaps so. In the meantime, Mr. Blacktooth, as Elder Scales has already told you, you are welcome to stay among us. All I ask is that you remain under the escort of the Ancient Furnace, or her father.”
“What about us?” Susan piped up nervously. “Can we stay with Jennifer, too?”
The trampler ignored Skip’s cynical snort from his cross-legged position on the ground. “Ms. Elmsmith, I believe the Blaze can make an exception this once for you. But that is only once, and only for you. Mr. Wilson—”
“—is already on his way outta here,” Skip interrupted, getting up to leave. “Thanks for the tea and biscuits, motherfu—”
“Skip!” Jennifer slapped a hand over his mouth. He didn’t try to resist, but he did lick her hand a few times. Grossed out, she kept it there anyway.
“You can’t just kick him out, Grammie!” Catherine’s outrage was a pleasant surprise to Jennifer—she had just met the boy. “He has no way of getting home!”
“I’m sure Elder Scales will not mind if his daughter’s friend stays at their farmhouse for a couple of days, on the proper side of the lake.”
Jonathan shook his head, but it was not in deference to the Eldest. “He’d have my permission, but frankly, I don’t think that’s wise, Winona. There are young weredragons around the farm right now, and—”
He trailed off, but everybody including Jennifer knew what he meant: It wouldn’t take long for Skip to get into a scuffle with someone.
“I’ll drive him home,” Susan spoke up with pride. “I mean, I only have my permit, but it’s not like my driving is so bad I’ll crash a car…um, again, that is…”
She took Skip’s hand and led him out of the amphitheater. Jennifer and Catherine watched them go with alarm.
“Grammie, you can’t be serious! She’s only fifteen!”
“There are no adult drivers available,” Jonathan pointed out. “Jennifer’s the only dragon who can change shape at will.”
“But the convertible…!”
“I would rather risk the convertible,” Winona replied coldly, “than this refuge. Jennifer, see to it that they both get through the portal again safely, and that they are driving in the right direction. Then come back so that your friend Edward here—”
“We all came together, and we’ll all leave together,” Jennifer snapped. “Come on, Eddie. Let’s go. Catherine?”
Catherine teetered in the space between her grandmother and Jennifer. Her reptilian features creased with worry, and Jennifer belatedly realized she had put her friend in a horrible spot.
“Catherine, it’s okay. If you want to stay here—”
“No, I’m coming.” The resolve was sudden and filled Jennifer with an unexpected warmth. “Just let me say good-bye to my grandmother, and I’ll catch up.”
“Sure.” Jennifer turned to her father. “Will you need to see us off? Make sure we’re driving in the right direction and not doubling back against orders?”
“Hey, ace. Easy. It’s me.” He curled a wing around her shoulders and walked her away from the Blaze with a downtrodden Eddie in tow. “You wanna go, go. Just do me a favor and fly home. It’s safer than driving, at your age. Deal?”
She relaxed under his wing. “Deal. Sorry I lost my temper, Dad. It’s just that this place…” Looking around, she couldn’t place the emotion. “It means so much to me. When you first brought me here, I finally felt like an adult. Hunting here with you and Grandpa was special. Bringing Catherine here made our friendship stronger, even though it ended up being dangerous for her. And then when the Blaze talked about banishing me when they found out I was a beaststalker—I just couldn’t bear the thought. And Grandpa’s buried here, and now he’s up above with the only sister I’ve ever known, and—”
She found herself crying as she walked out of the amphitheater. “This place makes me so happy, and it ticks me off so much, and it’s dangerous and sad and beautiful all at once! I wanted to share it with my friends, because I thought they—”
“You thought they might feel it, too,” he finished for her. “Look, Jennifer, you’re right to want to share this place with your friends. And it’s going to happen for you, I’m sure of it. But you can’t expect everyone to grow up for you, all in a day. Not Winona, not Xavier, not Skip, not even me, or yourself. Be patient.”
Nodding, she gently shrugged his wing off and looked around at the mountainside. “It wouldn’t be so bad to have werachnids visiting here in Crescent Valley. Maybe even living here someday. Right, Dad?”
He shuddered and chuckled. “I guess, ace. Your vision is a bit more progressive than mine. But time is on your side. Use it.”
“So go ahead, Jennifer. Let me have it.” They were relaxing in the living room of the cabin on the other side, drinking lemonade and watching winged shapes soar and dive out of the window. They were all in guest bathrobes (except for Jennifer and Catherine, who kept their dragon form), while their clothes enjoyed a dryer cycle.
“Oh, Skip. I’m not going to let you have it.” She watched a dasher nip into the cold lake just briefly enough to pull a large walleye out. “I don’t blame you for anything you said.”
Truth be told, she was more annoyed at Eddie. His pathetic “commitment” to talk to one or two of the less scary kids at
school was hardly the heroic start she had hoped for in dragon-beaststalker relations. She tried hard not to look at him, choosing instead to turn back to Skip. “I just feel badly that I can’t bring you back. I mean, I suppose I can, but I really shouldn’t…”
He wiped his hands on the hem of his robe. “Don’t worry about it. I don’t want you sticking your neck out for me with those old farts.”
“Those old farts?” Catherine raised her scaled chin up from the carpet. “Those old farts are my grandmother and her friends. She raised me after my parents died. You’re cool and all, Skip; and I’ll support Jennifer because I think she’s right. But don’t bad-mouth my family.”
Skip rolled his eyes but didn’t argue the point.
“When will the clothes get out of the dryer?” asked Susan, shivering in her robe.
“Give it another half-hour,” Jennifer guessed. “You sure you’re okay to drive, Susan? I mean, with all of us here, maybe the weredragons won’t give Skip or you any trouble—”
“I want to leave,” Skip said. “If I need to call my aunt Tavia and have her come pick me up, fine. But I’m not staying here.”
Jennifer’s face crumbled in despair. This was her fault—she never should have brought him. She thought she was helping all of her friends get closer together, but this trip had just caused trouble for everyone. Skip had nearly started a fight, Susan would have to drive illegally, Catherine was arguing with her grandmother, and Eddie…Who cares, she thought bitterly.
“You don’t need to call your aunt, Skip,” she sighed. “We’ll get you home.”
“Home,” he repeated. He plainly didn’t like the word. “I don’t know why I care so much. Like I told Catherine’s grandmother—I don’t belong there, or here, or Winoka, or anywhere else. None of those places has ever felt much like home.”
“So where is home?” Catherine asked him.
He wrapped his hand in the robe’s belt and didn’t look at any of them. “Far away,” he finally said.
“What, like, Iowa?”
He gave Susan a short push, but didn’t return her smile. “Not Iowa. It doesn’t matter. It’s not like I can take all of you there now, like Jennifer tried to do for us. Jennifer, I’m sorry this didn’t work out. I know it meant a lot to you.”
“Thanks, Skip.” She looked at him, then at Eddie again. See? She almost screamed at the young beaststalker. He can stand up tall, talk straight, look me in the eye. Why can’t you?
As if hearing her thoughts, Eddie chose that moment to get up and leave the room.
“Unbelievable,” Catherine muttered as soon as he was out of earshot. She rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling fan. “My grandmother makes one request—talk to some beaststalkers—and he punks out. Jennifer, I thought you said he was your friend?”
“He is.” Jennifer felt her neck get warm, since she had just been thinking the same thing. “He’s just going through a tough time. Give him a break.”
“We all go through tough times, Jennifer.” Susan didn’t seem happy about arguing the point, but she went on. “I understand Eddie’s mom is in the hospital and his dad’s a jerk. But there are people I know who get knocked down and then stand back up.” Like you, her look told Jennifer.
“He’ll come through.” She tried to sound more certain than she felt. “Eddie just needs something to believe in again. His family let him down. I let him down.”
“Skip kicked his head in,” Susan added.
“Doesn’t matter,” Catherine insisted. “Eddie let everyone down. Did you see the look on Grammie’s face? I thought she was going to pinch his head off and toast it, she was so upset by his answer.”
“He’ll come through,” Jennifer repeated.
“Whatever you say,” Catherine said and sniffed. She got up and ambled into the kitchen on four legs. “I’d like a bite before we go. Skip, you didn’t eat all the toaster waffles last night, did you?”
CHAPTER 3
Sunday Afternoon
During the drive home, Catherine and Jennifer stayed in formation close to the ground so they could talk and whomp.
“Your dad seemed to stay pretty cool,” Catherine commented as her large hindclaws crushed the brown weeds alongside the highway with leap after leap.
“Yeah, he’s all right,” Jennifer allowed, whomping the grasses right next to her friend. “We still get along okay.”
It was a while before Catherine said anything. Then, “I told Grammie before we left that she should listen to you more. And your dad. But she’s too—too Grammie. Know what I mean?”
“Yeah.” No clue.
“I mean, she raised me from since I can remember. She’s always been right, about everything. Or so I thought. But the more I see of Crescent Valley and other dragons, the more I wonder. I mean, who cares if someone like Susan or Skip visits Crescent Valley? They’re friends.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
“I think the pressure of being Eldest is kinda getting to her. Whenever I try to talk to her about stuff, she gets really freaked out. Especially if it’s about beaststalkers.”
“Why’s that?”
“Beaststalkers have not been kind to our family. She’s told me some pretty nasty things, about killings, and hobblings, and skewered newolves…”
Jennifer was just about to ask what hobblings were, but then the image of a skewered newolf made her stomach churn. “Ugh. How would newolves and beaststalkers ever meet?”
“I’m not sure. Grammie’s talked a bit about some newolves coming over to this side, as guards or escorts.”
This much was true. Jennifer recalled the previous spring, when her father and grandfather had arranged for newolves to patrol the forests near the farm. She wondered how they crossed over. Did they swim? Did they need to have the wearer of the Ring of Seraphina with them?
And did beaststalkers really have to skewer them?
They went on, staying within sight of the Mustang, which only swerved once in a while when it drifted too far to the right and hit the rumble strip.
“Jeez,” Jennifer remarked the fourth time this happened in the past half-hour. “Do you think Susan’s just tired, or what?”
“More likely fending off Skip’s advances” came the sly response.
“Okay, was that supposed to be funny?”
“I’m just saying—”
“Because I know funny. I’m a funny gal.”
“She doesn’t exactly stop him when he grabs her under—”
“And that? Not so funny.”
Jennifer punctuated the last remark by launching herself intentionally into Catherine’s side. She knocked both of them into a cornfield, which fortunately had been harvested weeks ago and only contained snowy mud and stalk residue. They somersaulted several times before they were able to stop, and they were both giggling as they got up.
“I’m glad you’re not driving that car anymore,” Catherine said. “Steering like that, you’d have hit the ditch miles ago.”
“Yeah, but I would have taken down the sassy bitch in the next car with me.”
“We’d better catch up. I want to keep an eye on them.”
“Me, too.”
“Not for that! I mean, we should make sure they get home safely. You know, Skip seemed kinda down. And, er, Eddie, too.”
It took a few jumps before Jennifer realized something. She sailed at her friend again, this time merely bumping her a bit off course. “You like Skip!”
“Hey! Well, like is a strong word. I think he’s…kinda interesting.”
“He called your grandmother an old fart.”
“She is an old fart.”
“Catherine!”
“It doesn’t mean I don’t love her.” They were even with the Mustang again. “It just means Skip said something insexy—er, incisive.”
“Oh, sweet, merciful…”
“Before you broke up with him, did you consider how firm his butt is?”
“That’s it. I’m rippi
ng the roof off of your Mustang, right now.”
“Don’t be surprised if you find them making out in there.”
“At fifty miles an hour?”
“You’re right. Too slow for making out. They’re probably just feeling each other up.”
“You are so not my friend anymore. Go back to your old fart of a grandmother.”
“See, it’s not as sexy when you say it.”
WINOKA
POP. 19,502
SAFE HOMES, STRONG FAMILIES
“You sure you won’t come into town?”
“Naw.” Catherine shifted her weight nervously as she leaned against the Winoka city limits sign. One wing claw reached back to scratch her spine. “I figure Susan can avoid crashing the car from here. I’ll go back to Crescent Valley and let Grammie and your dad know everyone’s back home. You still coming back tomorrow with your mom?”
“That’s the plan.” The thought of bringing her mother to Crescent Valley made Jennifer immediately feel better. That was a trip that would go more smoothly.
“We’ll see you later, Catherine!” Susan was almost back in the car before her sentence ended. The engine revved back up. Skip and Eddie waved from the inside; Skip’s face was full of rash confidence. Jennifer squinted—was that lipstick on his cheek? It was hard to tell in the dim light of a dismal November afternoon. Maybe that was a hickey on his throat…or maybe it was mascara…
What would her eyelashes be doing on his neck? Cripes, Jennifer. Get a hold of yourself.
“Hey, listen,” Catherine woke Jennifer from her reverie. “I’m not supposed to talk to you about this, but I can’t resist. Don’t be surprised if something cool happens later this week!”
“What do you mean?”
But Catherine only flashed her perfect teeth and leapt off the ground, bouncing several yards away as she began to turf-whomp her way back to Crescent Valley.
The Silver Moon Elm Page 4