by Willa Hart
Soso sat on an old overstuffed love seat in front of the fireplace, too engrossed in a picture book to pay attention to the adults. His little face was bunched up in an expression of intense focus as he silently mouthed each word on the pages. Bunica said something to him in Romanian, and even though I didn’t know the language, I could tell she was scolding him. He snapped his head up and blinked at me as he transitioned from the magical universe of books to the real world.
“Salut,” he mumbled, then dipped his head again.
“Hello to you, too, Soso.” He didn’t even hear me.
Bunica and I shared the kind of amused look adults the world over give when kids do something so frustrating it’s funny. She waved me toward the kitchen table while she busied herself with getting me tea. The tea was fragrant and the thick cookies — what she called “biscuits” — with almonds pressed into the tops looked delicious.
“Ooh, what are these called?” I asked, reaching for one.
“Shakarlama,” she replied. “Walnuts, almonds, cardamom, butter, sour cream—”
“You had me at walnuts,” I said, hungrily devouring mine. It reminded me of spicy shortbread — crumbly, heavily spiced, and sinfully rich.
“So, “Bunica said, drawing my attention away from the amazing cookie, “what it is your question?”
I nearly choked on crumbs, and only a swig of hot tea could clear my throat. “What? What question?”
Her rheumy old eyes peered at me with the shrewdness of a cat. “The one you came to ask, dear.”
Heat rose in my cheeks. She’d seen right through me, but how? Only one way to find out.
“How did you know?”
She smiled. “Ask it.”
“When we were here the other day, you said something about finding my friend, but we never told you she was missing. No one mentioned her at all. How did you know about her? Do you have any idea where she’s being held? Anything you know might be helpful in finding her.”
Bunica tilted her head to one side, sympathy etched into every wrinkle. “I do not have answers to those questions. I know nothing about your friend specifically, I am sorry to say. I have simply reached an age at which I can often intuit people’s true worries.”
She watched me over the rim of her cup as she took a slurpy sip, then set it down firmly. “For example, you have something else on your mind. Your real reason for visiting me has nothing to do with your friend.”
A shot of adrenaline drew goosebumps along my arms. “Can you read minds, Bunica?”
She chuckled softly. “Not yours, dear. The human face is more expressive than any of you think. So tell me why you are here today, Favor.”
Okay, I can’t deny that since my powers started developing at such a rapid pace, I’d been feeling kinda cocky. Like I was the schizz, so to speak. But for a tiny old woman to read me so easily brought even more heat to my face. Maybe I wasn’t as special as I’d been feeling. Or maybe Bunica was an extraordinary dragon. Either way, she was waiting patiently for me to speak. It took me much longer than usual to put words to it.
“I was wondering…” I started, then stopped and stared into my cup.
She pushed the plate of cookies toward me and I gratefully took one, simply to bide my time. What I really wanted to know might not even be quantifiable, by her standards, yet I felt strongly that if I was going to ask anyway, it should be Bunica. I had no choice but to finally spit it out.
“What’s it like being a mother?”
Her expression softened and she reached out to lay a cool, dry hand on mine. “Oh, I expect you will learn all about that subject soon enough, my dear.”
Tears blurred my vision as I shook my head, utterly deflated. “Impossible,” I squeaked.
“Why do you say that?”
I braced myself to perform CPR on this sweet little old lady once I explained my unconventional situation. Hiding it would make no sense, and probably would be useless anyway, with her incredible ability to perceive weird shit. Swiping away an errant tear, I took a deep breath and met her curious gaze.
“I, uh…” Damn, where to start? From the beginning. “Even though I’m the daughter of a well-respected dragon keeper, it appears I’m not one myself — even though everyone thinks I am.”
Scraggy white eyebrows shot upward. “Oh?”
“I’m actually… Wow, I’m glad you’re sitting down. Okay, here goes. I’m a dragon mate. Make that dragons mate. Plural. The five American dragons who escorted me here? They’re my mates. And since humans can’t carry fledglings, I’ll never be a mother.”
Bunica studied me without moving a muscle. I couldn’t tell if she was shocked or appalled. Probably both. Her silence made me nervous.
“I know that must seem strange to you, Bunica, and I won’t lie. It’s strange to me too. But all I can tell you is that it’s true. None of us intended for it to happen, but it has, and I’ve never felt happier or more sure of anything in my life.”
Bunica’s expression never changed. Finally, she shrugged her hunched shoulders. “Eh, it’s not unheard of.”
I couldn’t have heard that correctly. Everyone else who knew about me and my boys thought we were freaks, it seemed. At the very least, they all seemed surprised. But Bunica seemed completely unfazed.
“Really?” I sputtered, wondering if I’d hear her right.
She topped off my cup before replying. “Certainly. It is not common, but it has happened in times of great need. Most things have, throughout the long history of dragondom, to be honest.”
Relief and gratitude warmed my blood over her non-reaction. “Oh my god, I had no idea. Thank you for telling me that. We haven’t told many people because of how they might react. Especially Max. I’m absolutely terrified to tell him because—”
“Max?” Bunica barked, looking almost startled. “Maximus Novak?”
“Yes, he’s my great-aunt’s mate and the great-uncle by blood to my…boyfriends? Mates? I’m not sure what to call them. Anyway, do you know him?”
Her gaze grew misty as she flew back in time. “Yes, I know Maximus very well and for a very long time. Do you know he saved my life in the great battle with the dark mage, Vazha?”
“That’s a recurring theme,” I said. “You were there too?”
“Of course, and I will be forever in his debt. Such a gift can never be fully repaid.”
The mist in her eyes turned to dampness and she dabbed at them with her napkin as she recalled the events of that fateful day so long ago. I felt as if I’d been there myself, thanks to my visions, and I couldn’t help envisioning it all.
“I fought alongside Maximus for many hours that day. As did most of his family — his brother, sister, niece, nephew and mate. They all fought valiantly, and if it hadn’t been for them…” She choked down her emotions before continuing in a much calmer state. “Such a tragedy that they all perished. As powerful as Maximus was then — and I have no doubt he’s equally as powerful today — one can never truly recover from such tremendous loss.”
“You know he raised my guys after that battle, right? If my grasp of their genealogy is correct, Kellum, Ryen and Danic are his brother’s grandsons, and the twins are his sister’s grandsons.”
Bunica nodded sagely. “I would expect nothing less of Maximus. He is a good man and an even better dragon.”
Soso toddled over to us, laid his book on the table, and started the arduous process of climbing into Bunica’s lap. Once he was settled, he laid a hand on her cheek and said something I couldn’t understand. Again, it didn’t take Google Translate to tell me he wanted her to read him a story. She smiled and nodded, brushing a lock of hair out of his eyes.
“I will, Soso, but we have an American guest so I will read it in English.” She met my gaze and smiled. “It’s good for him to practice his English. I believe we dragons should be proficient in every language.”
“I remember,” I said, trying not to smile at the memory of her chastising Mariam for not knowing
English.
He shot me a shy smile as she picked up his book, which had been face-down. I immediately recognized the cover. It was the same fairy tale Ash had read to his sweet little cousin, Lizi. But instead of reading it, Bunica snorted out a soft laugh, set it back down, and gathered Soso into a comforting snuggle.
“Books always get it wrong,” she muttered, before launching into full story-telling granny mode. “Once upon a time, there was a beautiful girl child named Anastasia. She was the beloved daughter of the greatest dragon keeper who ever lived. Their family was powerful and greatly respected throughout all of dragondom.”
As Soso relaxed against Bunica, his eyelids grew heavy. He’d heard this version of the story as many times as he’d read it, I had no doubt. I’d only heard a short snippet of the story when Ash had read it to Lizi, and I was fascinated to hear her version.
“Anastasia’s mother and father loved her more than life itself. They doted on their daughter, giving her every gift and grace a young girl could ever ask for. She was the light of their hearts, and all was well and bright in the land.
“One day, a stranger came to town to sell his meager wares. Anastasia’s mother was a patient and generous woman who, seeing his thinness and his ragged clothing, took pity upon the man. She invited him to supper and he gladly accepted. She prepared a wonderful meal for their guest, and the four of them enjoyed a lovely evening, stuffing themselves on good food, telling stories, and singing songs together. After such good company — and no small amount of wine — Anastasia’s father graciously offered the stranger a place to sleep for the night. And so they all went to bed with full stomachs and joy in their hearts.
“In the dark of the night, young Anastasia was awakened by the terrible sounds of of pain and terror. She rushed from her room to find the strange man taking the lives of her beloved parents. With her dying breath, Anastasia’s mother screamed for her little girl to run away and save herself. Anastasia was afraid, but she was always obedient. She escaped the house, running as far and as fast as her little legs could carry her. She wandered alone for a long time, lost and heartbroken, until an elderly couple took pity on her and brought her into their home as a servant.”
As Bunica continued the tale, I couldn’t help being a bit disturbed that someone somewhere sometime thought this would be excellent bedtime story material. Scary strangers, murdered parents, old people turning kids into servants. Sounded like the stuff of nightmares to me, but Soso took it all in stride — so much so that he was already drifting off right there in Bunica’s lap.
“Many years later, the world of dragondom was in peril. Dragons were dying off in great numbers because of the rampant fear of mankind—”
The story was interrupted by the creak of the front door opening. We all looked over to see Kellum poking his head inside. He looked apologetic.
“Sorry to interrupt, but they’ve called off the search for now. We’d better head back.”
Part of me wanted to stay long enough to hear how Anastasia’s story turned out, but as an old pro at fairy tales, I could guess. Many years later, she found her Prince Charming, saved dragondom, bore a hundred beautiful babies, and lived happily ever after. The end.
“Thank you for the tea and cookies, Bunica,” I said as I went to her and kissed her cheek in the European manner. Soso giggled when I ruffled his fine brown hair.
As I pulled away, Bunica grabbed my hand, her grip almost as powerful as Danic’s. I was so surprised by her strength, I almost didn’t notice the fire blazing in her eyes.
“You are welcome any time, Favor. Be careful.”
Anastasia’s morbid story still had me out of sorts, and I found myself hoping that “careful” would be enough to keep us “alive.”
Chapter 14
I sat on the crest of the little hill where Danic had been teaching me self-defense, watching steam rise from the grassy slopes below me. A fine rain had dampened the land, then moved on, leaving a spot of sun to destroy the evidence. Not even Oregon’s beauty could compare to this spot. I’d remember it forever, for all the best and worst reasons.
“Hey, babe,” Danic said as he dropped down next to me, close enough so our shoulders touched.
“Hey.”
“Something on your mind?”
I shrugged and sighed. “Everything?”
“Anything more specific?”
I plucked a blade of grass and focused on peeling it into teeny strips. Danic waited patiently for me to corral my thoughts.
“Bunica, if I’m being honest.”
Danic plucked his own blade. “Makes sense. Good visit?”
I thought about my answer for a minute. “Technically.”
Again, he waited.
“She’s amazing,” I said, looking up at him. “I wonder if even she knows how old she is. Way older than Max, right?”
“Definitely.”
Unbelievable. I’d thought “around a thousand years” was old, but Bunica seemed at least twice Max’s age. Who knew with dragons?
“So why ‘technically’? Was she weird or something?” Danic prompted.
“Not at all. I like her. A lot. She has this…energy. Sorta soothing, totally competent, like time moves a little more slowly for her, which gives her the time to see things others would miss. Does that make any sense at all?”
He nodded and flicked away his blade of grass. “Sure. She’s an ancient. A living ancestor. There’s comfort in being with someone who’s seen more than all of us combined.”
“Discomfort too,” I said, flicking away my own blade. “As the old saying goes, she’s forgotten more than any of us has ever learned. That’s intimidating. And a little disconcerting.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I mean, what does she know that she isn’t telling us? With her depth of knowledge, there has to be something, right?”
Danic pulled a face. “I suppose. But you like her?”
“What’s not to like? To be completely transparent, she kinda reminds me of Aunt Shirley.”
“Really? I don’t see it.”
“Well, not exactly like Aunt Shirley. More that her existence reminds me of Shirley. I miss her. Don’t you?”
He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me closer. “Oh, yeah. Much as I love Uncle Max, Shirley is the heart and soul of his household.”
Truer words had never been spoken. Shirley was the light to Max’s darkness. The sweet to his salty. The yang to his yin.
“She must be worried sick about Max,” I said. “I should call her, tell her I saw him.”
“I’m sure she’d like that.” He pressed a kiss to my temple. “Is that it?”
“What?”
“Is that all that’s bugging you?” His sharp gaze bore all the way down to the secret crevices I didn’t like to show anyone.
“No, not really. Bunica was reading a story about the dragon mother Anastasia to Soso.” I looked up at him, utterly vulnerable. “It sorta reminded me of my parents.”
His head bobbed with understanding. “The part where they die?”
“Yeah,” I squeaked, emotions choking off my voice. “I thought I’d put it past me, you know? I mean, I really only have a few memories of them. I should be over it by now, shouldn’t I?”
Danic stared across the misty landscape, lost in thought as I’d been a few minutes ago. When he spoke, heartbreak flavored his words, nearly bringing tears to my eyes.
“My parents died over two hundred years ago, and I still feel the pain as keenly as I did that day.”
I rested my head against his broad shoulder and sighed. “We’ll never get over it, will we?”
“No. Not fully. But at least we have each other for support.”
I tipped my head back to smile up at him. “Thank god.”
Danic lowered his head and brushed his lips across mine. “Love you, babe. Ready to go inside?”
I took a bracing breath and let him help me stand. Not that I couldn’t manage it on my own, I
just loved his chivalry so much that I didn’t mind not being the totally independent modern woman I always thought of myself as. Our fingers entwined as we picked our way down the hillside toward our little hideaway.
“That makes no sense, Ryen,” Hale was saying from the kitchen as we strolled in. “If the melot had caught a ride on the back of a dragon, I think someone would have noticed. “
“And we still don’t know how he escaped in the first place,” Kellum noted from his seat at the table. “Until we know that, all the speculation in the world won’t help.”
“It just sucks,” Ryen groused before sauntering into the bathroom.
Losing a prisoner in the first place must have been a bitch, but then for a bunch of dragons to fail in tracking him down must have been truly demoralizing. The consensus was that the jadokari had a deep and secret network of locals they either paid off or threatened to help them.
“Favor!” Hale grinned as Danic shut the door behind us. “Just the person we wanted to see.”
“Oh yeah?” I glanced around to each of their smiling faces in turn.
Ash stood from his prone position on the bed and came to me. “We were thinking you could use a nice, restful afternoon. A little down time.”
I frowned, but let him take my hand and lead me to the center of the room. “Down time?”
“Sure,” he said, his hand sliding down the small of my back. “I think we could all use a little R&R, don’t you? Wallowing in our failures won’t help us any, that’s for sure.”
The sound of running water started in the bathroom, and it didn’t take long for the smell of lavender bubble bath to make its way to my nose. A cork popped softly in the kitchen, where Hale started pouring rich, deep red wine into six glasses. Kellum continued his task of slicing up some beautiful Romanian cheese I couldn’t hope to pronounce. Branza-something. Whatever it was called, it was by far my favorite local food so far — a creamy soft cheese that came in a funky fir tree bark cylinder. And despite the fact it was still mid-afternoon, a fire crackled in the rustic hearth. It all had the quality of an ambush.