Marked by the Dragon

by Kayla Wolf

  ”Careful of what? Caleb’s a coyote, I could take him in a fight easy. As for David…” She hesitated, thinking of the quiet dragon. Could he be dangerous? He just seemed—calm. But she supposed dangerous people could afford to be calm. “He doesn’t seem very threatening.” She tilted her head to the side, aware they were veering dangerously close to a subject they usually avoided. Charles had turned his attention back to the tree. “Do you really think—one of them might be—”

  ”I don’t know,” Charles shrugged. “Stranger things have happened. And David does have that compass, brought him all the way down here…”

  ”Yeah, to the farm. He said the Oracle said we were in danger, somehow. It’s not about me.”

  ”Alright, if you’re sure,” Charles said briskly, climbing down from the tree. And just like that, the conversation was over. Quinn watched him bustle off into the orchard, clearly fixed on some new errand, and found herself frowning to herself. Had she just missed the opportunity for a real conversation with her father? To maybe get some answers about what a soulmate was, what it felt like to meet one? Because if he was right about one of these men being destined for her—well, it was in her best interests to figure out who it was as soon as possible.

  Because they were both interesting, she had to admit it. Whether that was because of how long she’d spent by herself out here, she wasn’t sure, but part of her was very interested in getting to know both of them. Caleb had that restless, seething quality—it made him fascinating, that anger that he kept just below the surface, that sense of impatience. And he was good-looking. And David, for his part, clearly had the soul of a philosopher. It was rather beautiful, what he’d said about the sky—she could see herself enjoying more conversations with him. Stargazing, perhaps, late at night on the back patio… a blush rose to her cheeks at the idea. Yes, there was definitely something about the dragon that was drawing her in. But who was he, really? She hardly knew the first thing about him—he’d just turned up that morning, full of some ridiculous story about an Oracle saying that they were in danger. What cause did she have to believe him—aside from the instincts that told her to trust him?

  With four people working instead of two, they sped through the chores for the day. There was a strange dynamic between David and Caleb, she noticed, half amused and half concerned by it—a kind of edgy, competitive energy. They didn’t speak to one another, keeping their attention focused on anything but the other man, but she could tell they were keenly aware of each other. As though they were competing for her attention. Well, something about that wasn’t entirely unpleasant… she felt a little guilty for taking advantage of that to get them to do the more laborious farm work, the tasks she always found herself avoiding, but they seemed happy enough.

  By sunset, the chores were done, and it was definitely time for dinner. They’d stopped briefly for a quick lunch, but Charles had decided on a veritable feast for dinner—roasted vegetables, fresh, crispy bread, and a whole roast chicken. While her father cooked, Quinn showed their sweaty guests where the bathrooms were. It had taken a little while to get the plumbing set up—it had involved a lot of digging to route a system of pipes from the lake to the house—but it was worth it to be able to take a steaming hot bath at the end of a long day of farm work. One of the farmhouse’s bathrooms adjoined Quinn’s room—she let David use that one, directing Caleb to the one that was closer to her father’s room. Not for any reason, she told herself, forcing herself to turn away from the half-open bathroom door as she saw the dragon begin to unbutton his shirt.

  Dinner was wonderful. For the first time, Quinn began to realize how wonderful it was to have more than a couple of people in a house. The energy in the room felt brighter, more alive—despite how weary both Caleb and David were from their unaccustomed day of farm work, just hearing them talk and laugh with her father made her chest feel warm. And she’d never seen Charles seem so bright and happy as he did that night. He even brought out some of his cherished home-brewed beer, an experiment she’d never had much time for. David was especially impressed by the stuff and talked with Charles at length about the process that had gone into brewing the beer.

  ”Humans have been doing it for hundreds of years,” Charles explained, sipping at his glass of lager. Before long, he was off on his favorite subject—a history lecture about all the fascinating things humans had been doing over the last thousand years or so. She sat back and listened, feeling a little regretful that she’d so often shut her father down when he got onto these tangents. It was clear that he loved having someone to talk to… but it couldn’t always be her, she just didn’t have the energy.

  This wasn’t sustainable, she realized, looking around the table. She and her father… they couldn’t just stay out here forever, just the two of them. It didn’t work. It was killing them both—her with boredom, him with loneliness. If these two men coming here taught her nothing else, it was that she needed to redouble her efforts at getting her father to come back home to the valley with her. Even if it meant leaving Caleb and David behind, alone, to take care of the farm. She stifled a giggle at that idea.

  ”What’s funny?” David asked, leaning across the table, those bright green eyes inquisitive.

  ”Oh, nothing. A hundred miles away, sorry.” Further, technically. God, she didn’t even know where her ancestral home was on a map. Wasn’t that sad?

  ”Not a beer drinker?”

  ”No, unfortunately. I’m so glad Dad has someone to talk to who actually appreciates this stuff.”

  ”Your mother did,” Charles said, so casually that she almost thought she’d dreamed it. Quinn looked across the table at her father, shock on her face. “She was more interested in wine, of course, but the grapevines never took.”

  Those two sentences were more than Charles had spoken about their mother in the century they’d been here. Quinn hardly knew what to do with herself.

  “Where is she?” David asked, tilting his head.

  ”She left, I’m afraid,” Charles said, and though Quinn knew how heavily that weighed on him, somehow he didn’t seem too broken apart to admit it. “A long time ago.”

  ”So did my mother.” There was a strange expression on David’s face—as though he didn’t quite know what he was saying. “A long time ago. My father…” He took a deep breath. “My father didn’t take it well.”

  ”Neither did I,” Charles said softly, and when his eyes flicked to Quinn, they were full of sadness. “For a long time. But the two of you coming here… it’s reminded me that I can’t just maintain this holding pattern. Can’t keep waiting for her to come back.”

  Quinn rose abruptly to her feet, her heart pounding. She cleared the table, moving almost mechanically, deaf to the ongoing conversation around her—Charles had deftly steered the conversation towards Caleb, who was telling them about his own mother and father now. Somehow, these two men in the space of a day had made more progress with her stubborn father than she’d managed in decades. There was something infuriating about that—and at the same time, something deeply wonderful. Maybe there was actually hope for them to go back—back to their real home, back to the place they were supposed to be. But was she ready for that? Was she actually ready to leave this place, now that it seemed her father might be changing his mind?

  ”Are you okay?”

  She realized she’d been staring into the sink for several minutes now, the water running over her hands as her mind whirled along. David was beside her, and she realized with a shock that he’d put his hand on her shoulder, a comforting gesture. The warmth of his flesh burned against her body. It felt strange, for someone to touch her—she and her father rarely made physical contact, and it wasn’t as though there was anybody else to touch or hug. It felt oddly comforting. Grounding, almost, as though it was tethering her wild thoughts down to that single, solid point of contact… but as if he’d sensed how significant the touch of his hand had been, he pulled away from her, leaving her feeling oddly bereft.
>
  ”I didn’t mean to startle you.“

  ”It’s fine,” she said quickly, not wanting him to think her lack of response had been out of resentment. A strange urge to catch his hand in hers and put it back on her shoulder rose in her, and she fought it down, feeling embarrassed. “I’m fine. Just—distracted.” She glanced over at Charles, who was deep in conversation with Caleb about the local area. “Dad never talks about my mother,” she said in a low voice, feeling a strange urge to voice that aloud. “It’s so weird hearing him talk about her like it’s not a big deal.”

  ”My father hasn’t spoken about my mother for at least a century,” David said softly, quietly taking a cloth and starting to dry the dishes she’d washed. “I know exactly what that weight feels like. My sisters and I… in some way we’re always on tenterhooks, waiting for him to blow up about her. But he never does. Not about her, anyway.”

  ”I don’t think he’s going to blow up,” Quinn said, looking at her father. “I do think he hasn’t let himself grieve her, though. That can do different things to people. Some get sad, some get avoidant, some get angry…”

  David took a breath. It sounded like recognition. “Yeah. I was the middle one. Moved to a cabin, stared at the sky for a few decades…”

  She laughed. “Sounds more productive than me. I just got angry.”

  ”That was my sister’s path,” he said softly, polishing a glass. There was something curiously intimate about this conversation—both of them looking into the dining room, not at each other, talking about things she’d never talked about with anyone… “Olivia. She channels her anger into getting stuff done, and she’s brilliant, but… I worry about her.”

  ”Yeah, you should. It’s no way to live.” Quinn cleared her throat, finishing the dishes. “Thanks.”

  ”Oh, it was the least I could do,” David said easily, gesturing with the tea towel.

  ”Not just for that,” she said quickly, then moved away to rejoin the others at the table before her voice could betray her. After a moment, David followed her—and if he had anything else to say, he didn’t bring it up.

  It wasn’t long before the weariness of the day caught up with them. She caught Caleb trying to stifle a yawn and giggled a little, amused by how strongly he was resisting the indication that he was tired. They said their goodnights in the living room and wandered off down the hallways to bed. It felt strange, knowing there were twice as many people in the house as usual… but as Quinn watched Charles wander off towards his bedroom, whistling to himself, she couldn’t help but smile. It was doing them both a lot of good, she knew that—even if there was a strange energy between David and Caleb that would have to be dealt with sooner or later.

  She was tired, too. A long, hot day, all the excitement of the two visitors—she should have been fast asleep the minute she climbed into her bed, but somehow, she just couldn’t settle her mind. She lay awake for a long time, mind ticking over the conversation she’d had with David at the sink. God, she’d never told anyone the things she told him. Why had it felt so… easy, so comfortable, to just talk to him about her most private thoughts? Was it that he was a stranger, that he didn’t know her well enough to pass judgment on her yet? No—there was something more to it. Something that was linked to the strange thing she’d felt in her chest when she saw him … to what she’d felt the night before, looking up into the stars. Had she somehow predicted that he was coming? Had the stars given her warning?

  Wow, Quinn, you really must be exhausted, she scolded herself. It wasn’t at all like her to get so spooky and superstitious about things. David was just—a nice man. Quiet, thoughtful, and kind—that was all it was. She just wasn’t used to spending time with many other people, that was all. She was reading too much into a friendly conversation, getting too hung up on the simple act of connecting with someone.

  But why was her heart still pounding? Why could she still feel the warmth of his hand against her shoulder where he’d touched her?

  She fell in and out of a restless sleep for a while, half-asleep and half-dozing, dreams coming half-formed to her mind. It reminded her of how she slept when she had a cup of coffee too close to bedtime—but all she’d had with dinner was water. Why couldn’t she get to sleep, then? Frustrated, she got up around midnight, resolving to fetch a glass of water or warm milk and sit up and read for a while.

  The halls of the house were dark, but she knew them well enough to navigate with her eyes shut. So she didn’t feel the need to flick on a light switch as she moved through the hallways. Besides, she was in the habit of conserving power as much as possible at night—their solar batteries did pretty good work overnight, but if you could avoid using the stored power, so much the better. So it was that she didn’t realize someone was sitting up against the wall of the hallway before she’d almost crashed right into them. Some sixth sense alerted her to their presence, and she was able to dodge out of the way, stifling a scream as she did so and blinking furiously in the gloom of the hallway, trying to figure out what she’d almost stepped on.

  Was that David? Sure enough, there he was—the dragon was sitting with his back against the wall, and his legs curled to his chest, his head dropped back against the wall. Clearly fast asleep—even almost getting stepped on hadn’t woken him up. But why on earth was he out here? She looked up and down the hallway, confused—had he gotten locked out of his room or something? He was sitting opposite the closed door to the room Caleb was using, and she stared down at him, drawing a few connections between what he’d said earlier and what he was doing now. Was he… keeping guard? Keeping an eye on Caleb? There was something very strange about that, she thought, creeping past him carefully. No sense waking him up—although it might be doing him a favor. She couldn’t imagine sleeping like that was very good for a person’s back.

  What did he have against Caleb, anyway, she wondered as she poured herself a glass of water in the kitchen. Sure, the coyote was a little edgy and strange, but he was a good enough guy. He’d certainly helped out a lot today with all the farm work—and her father seemed to like him. The two of them had been getting on pretty well. But David had said he was here to protect them against some kind of unnamed danger. Did he suspect that Caleb could be that danger? A chill ran through her as she considered it, taking a sip of the water she’d poured. She supposed she knew very little about him… it was entirely possible that there could be some ulterior motive to his presence here.

  As she gazed into the middle distance, she realized with a frown that something was wrong. It took her a moment to place it—but the sliding glass door that led out onto the patio was just slightly ajar. That was odd. They were fastidious about keeping those doors shut—there was nothing more annoying than sand or dirt being blown in overnight through an open door. She padded over to close it, but as she did so, she heard a strange sound in the garden.

  Moving quietly, Quinn crept out onto the patio, scanning the dark garden for the source of the sound. It sounded like scraping, or digging—and her eyes widened as she gazed down into the vegetable garden that lay just beyond the patio. There was some kind of animal there—a dusty-colored creature, digging furiously with its front paws. As she moved up to the railing, some sound alerted it, and it looked straight up at her with bright, intelligent yellow eyes that sent a shock of recognition shooting through her.

  A coyote.

  ”Caleb? What are you doing?”

  In a heartbeat, the coyote transformed—and there stood Caleb, wearing just the trackpants he’d worn to bed, his hands covered in dirt and his eyes full of fear.

  ”Quinn—I can explain—”

  ”What are you digging for?” Suspicion was rising in her stomach—but before Caleb could answer, she heard footsteps behind her and saw a snarl of fury flare to life on Caleb’s face. She knew without looking that it was David. Before she knew it, he was standing between her and Caleb, his fists clenched.

  ”This doesn’t concern you, dragon,” Caleb said in a vo
ice she hadn’t heard him use before. “Get out of the way—”

  ”What are you doing out here?” David demanded. Quinn felt a burst of annoyance flare in her chest.

  ”I just asked him that, actually,” she said loudly, “so if you wanted to let us keep talking—”

  But it was too late. Caleb lashed out, his fist connecting with David’s jaw and sending the taller man staggering. Quinn’s eyes widened as the coyote dropped into a fighting stance, his fists raised and his yellow eyes narrowed.

  ”I think you’d better leave,” David said, drawing himself up with dignity. Quinn could see from the tension in his back that he was fighting hard to restrain himself. For her benefit? But his hands were coming up, his body dropping into a defensive posture, and Caleb’s eyes were gleaming.

  ”Both of you, stop it,” she commanded, trying to instill her voice with authority. David turned back towards her, dropping his hands a little in response to the command. And that was all the opportunity Caleb needed. In a heartbeat he’d struck, pelting David with a flurry of punches—and the dragon turned back, raising his hands to defend himself. Despite Quinn’s shouts of protest, they were on top of each other, fists flying—

  ”What’s going on?”

  A lamp went on inside, bathing the patio in light. Charles, still in his pajamas, joined her on the patio, looking as shocked as she felt by what was going on. The men were tearing at each other, and she realized with a shock that both were bleeding copiously, splashes of red across their bodies.

  ”I’m going to shift,” Quinn said grimly, readying the magic—but Charles put a hand on her arm.

  ”You’ll do more damage than you’ll prevent,” he said in a low voice, watching the fight. And as if on cue, Caleb broke away from David, protecting his face. The dragon had obviously hit him hard. The two men glared at each other, breathing hard.