Skydance

by Katherine Rhodes

  “Does Rijn leave any other kind of message?”

  “Fair point.”

  “What’s going on?” Max closed the briefcase.

  “Don’t know. She won’t say. She says she doesn’t want to make us nervous.”

  “So just don’t tell us and make us all extra anxious.”

  Niko shrugged. “Hey, I tried. They were all being mysterious coven-y magical. Like there’s no one else affected by magic here.”

  Max nodded. “Come on. I have to go back to my office and drop some stuff off.” They walked down the hall toward the faculty building. “When do you leave?”

  “Friday morning, as usual.”

  “How is she doing?”

  Niko gave him a grin. “Much better. She’s found a group of women who are in the same boat as she is. They just want to serve their time and leave. She’s definitely feeling more positive now that she’s got three months behind her, and she’s getting a lot of privileges. She’s just keeping it all on the straight and narrow, and we’re hopeful that she’ll get early release.”

  “Time off for good behavior?”

  “She has to serve minimum of eighteen months, but she is cooperating fully with the police and the FBI on their investigations into Wayne and his theft ring. He’s already in jail in Georgia and they want the death penalty for him. But so many other states want him prosecuted, it looks like they aren’t going to pursue to allow all the states to charge.” Niko shook his head. “This is the only time I’ll say this: I’m glad Wyatt kept her in the dark about this. She can’t be prosecuted at all. And while Wyatt may never see the light of day, he’s also really pissed at his brother and is cooperating too.”

  “Good. I’m glad to hear about the early release. What’s she going to do when she gets out?”

  “She’s always talking about being a vet, but I’m going to leave that to her. She doesn’t even need to work, so if she wants to help at the store, or go back to school, or whatnot, I’ll leave it up to her.”

  “You know what happens to us, right? After a lifetime, we get another degree. Then another, then another, then another. Before you know it, you’re me or Sia who have about eight degrees, and two doctorates and don’t know what we’re going to do when we roll over again.”

  “I loved college. If I have to go back again to set up a new life, I’m going to study art.”

  Max patted him on the back. “Have you considered taking your designs wider? People love what you do here, and in Minneapolis-St. Paul. Imagine if they saw them in Chicago or New York? You’d be rolling in it.”

  Niko looked shocked. “I never…thought about that. I could take this wide, couldn’t I? I mean, everything I do is unique.”

  “You could be the next Louis Comfort Tiffany.”

  “Uh, no.”

  “Have you ever seen the Tiffany Eggs?”

  “No…”

  “I was there when Nicholas gave one to Alexandra at Easter. Those things were utterly exquisite. And I think your designs are better than his.”

  “Set the bar a little higher, why don’t you?”

  Laughing, Max pushed the door open, and they both pulled up short when they found someone standing there. The young man turned around, and this time, they both jerked back.

  It was a younger version of himself. His own face was staring at him, and just as shocked as he was.

  “Doctor Maximillian Andrew Czerkanowicz?”

  Even the pitch and timber of this man’s voice was similar, but there was a heavy English lilt to his words. Max walked forward and stuck out his hand. “Yes. Doctor Czerk, as my students call me. You are?”

  “Albert Edward Alexander Collins Pullman Covington, Lord Bournemouth, the Fourth,” he offered, shaking the proffered hand. “At least, that’s what my parents saddled me with. I go by Collin.”

  Tipping his head, he studied the man in front of him. “Lord Bournemouth. I knew your father…I mean…”

  “It’s all right, Doctor. I was born in 1916.”

  Niko’s mouth formed a little ‘O’ as Max was sure his did the same.

  “I hadn’t realized… That’s perhaps why I didn’t know he had a son. I left England that year.” Max paused. “Let’s get out of the hallway.” They pushed into Max’s office and he stood by his desk, dropping his messenger bag next to it. “Still, I’m confused. Lord and Lady Bournemouth were as human as they came. Good, God-fearing people, charitable Christians who didn’t abide tales of magic and sorcery. I had many a late night with Edward over the mysteries of the world.” Max could hear his Edwardian high English speech creeping back in.

  “Indeed, my…father was a straight-laced man who couldn’t abide liars, Nazis, and cucumber sandwiches at high tea.”

  Niko choked on his laugh. “Sorry.” He patted his chest. “That was overwhelmingly English of you to say.”

  “He was an Englishman right down to his polished spats and proper bowler hat.”

  Max and Niko could easily see the man had loved his father very much.

  “How can I help you?” Max asked, still confused.

  “My father died at sixty-eight, quite suddenly. His only disappointment in me was that I hadn’t married. Everything else, he was inordinately pleased with. Being a physicist in the forties was a prominent, lucrative, and exciting field and he knew that. It was fiercely competitive, and that I had a research position at Cambridge was his talking point. Always. There were also many times he mentioned missing you, sir. You and he were thick as thieves apparently.”

  “We were scoundrels, until your mother set him to rights.”

  “And your wife.”

  Max saw Niko slowly turn his head and stare at him. “Wife?”

  “Another life, Nikomedes. You know how it is.”

  “That is a huge omission.”

  Collin cleared his throat. “She’s why I’m here.”

  “My wife?” Max stared at Collin. His stomach churned badly, very much like he was going to throw up. “My wife died in childbirth in 1916, along with my infant son, Andrew.”

  “Well. That may not be true.”

  Max swayed in the sudden dizziness. “What? I buried her. She’s in Cambridge, under a stone slab with my first date of death in the thirties.”

  “Yes, I saw. That’s how I found you.”

  Dropping into his desk chair with a shove from Niko, he put his hand on his head. “Dragons always make themselves their own heirs. It’s the only way to trace us through time.” He looked up at Niko and swallowed hard. “What led you to Winifred’s grave?”

  “A name my mother gave me on her death bed. My mother, Oona, was one hundred three when she died in 2000. On her death bed, she pressed a piece of paper in my hand with a woman’s name on it. Francine Buckman.”

  “The midwife,” Max breathed. “She was the best. She commanded a price, but nothing was too good for Winnie. I would have sold my soul to get her everything she needed.”

  “She was the best. The very best. But she is also listed in the prison at Cambridge during the twenties for murder and kidnapping.” Collin looked at the wall behind Max and took a deep breath. “She was convicted of stealing children for money. Her plan was simple, because women and children died in childbirth often enough to make it virtually undetectable. When a woman died, she would take the live infant away and replace them with a bundle that contained either a dead pig or dog, and tell the father it was better they didn’t see the child.”

  “Oh my God…” Grabbing the trash can, he heaved his lunch into it spectacularly. Niko grabbed the water bottle and offered it to him so he could rinse the taste out of his mouth. He gestured to Collin. “Go on.”

  “The father would bury the mother, no further questions. Francine would take the babies to families who were childless and willing to pay. It is shocking how many people were robbed of their children by this woman in just one year, and it was only a chance that she was caught. Someone exhumed their wife for a primitive toxicology test, and they
found the remains of a fetal pig.”

  Max clutched the trash can tighter. “And, your mother paid.”

  “Handsomely. My father never knew. She played pregnant until the day Francine lay me in her arms, at just a few hours old while Father was away on business. I honestly don’t think that my mother ever knew whose child I really was, and that made everything more difficult.

  “I’ve been searching for my birth parents for over a decade. Winifred Czerkanowicz was one of the last names I found. I’ve had to pretend it was an ancestor search—until just now.”

  Max stared at the man in front of him and slowly stood after Niko grabbed the trash can. He studied Collin: same cheeks, same mouth, same jaw, same hair. His mother’s nose and eyes. Tall, like himself, but his hands were those of Winnie’s, with long, thin fingers suited to playing the piano.

  “My wife used to play the piano…” he mumbled the words.

  Collin reached into his messenger bag and pulled out a plastic sleeve. “Mom had this picture on the stairs. She said it always reminded her of Winnie and you, and how close you were until she died.”

  Holding out the image, Max could see Collin’s hand trembling. He took the sleeve and turned it over to reveal the picture. It was exactly the one he thought it was: their engagement picture. The one taken by Lord Bournemouth himself, when he was into his photography phase. He had purchased the very first Brownie camera from Kodak in 1910 and had enjoyed playing with it all the time. He had offered to make pictures for them to post to family and friends around the world to announce their engagement, and the look of adoration on his Winnie’s face had always made him smile. He had been wearing a gray overcoat and top hat with fitted pants and boots with heels. Back when real men wore heels. Winnie was wearing a frilly dress that was all the rage at the time, and a simple hat. He remembered the whole outfit was pale, delicate pink and she had prized it above just about everything else.

  The pictures was just six weeks before their wedding, just one week after he had told her everything about him—the dragon shifter, the magic, the gold hoard he owned. She had never wavered her love and dedication to him.

  And just four months after, they performed the ritual to ensure she would become pregnant and have the first of the large family they had planned.

  He had never expected to lose her to birth, or their son.

  And now, over a hundred years later, to find out he’d never lost his son.

  Niko was fast with the trash can as he leaned over and puked again.

  His son.

  Taking the water bottle off the desk and rinsing once more, he looked at Collin. He didn’t say another word, instead choosing to step to the man standing there and after a heartbeat, wrapping him in a hug.

  “My son.”

  He felt the tension drain from Collin as his hands came up to wrap him in the same hug. “My father. Finally.”

  Early September

  Darkwater Pond

  The four of them sat on the edge of the rock, dangling their feet in the water like they used to do when they were kids, just learning about their powers and abilities. Only Niko and Dracen had been kids in Pine Valley, but Henry and Max confessed to jumping into swimming holes—Max in Poland and Henry in China.

  “I still think that having an exotic name is cool,” Dracen said. “Yeah, sure, your first name is Henry, but Zhang isn’t common.”

  Henry looked over at him and rolled his eyes. “Are you kidding? Zhang isn’t that exotic. It’s like having Smith or Jones.”

  “Yeah, but it’s not Smith or Jones.”

  “Exotic is only so much fun,” Niko said. “I mean, have you seen my handle? Do you know many people can’t spell Tavoularis? And then ask me if I’m from India.”

  “Yeah, but Nikomedes is cool.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “Maximillian is cool. Nikomedes is a mouthful.”

  “Only your wife would know.” Max grinned.

  They collapsed in a fit of hysterical laughter, and each took a drink of their beers.

  “So you really got a kid, Max?” Dracen asked.

  “If you can call a one hundred year old dragon shifter a kid, sure.” Max swallowed the drink. “But yes. Collin is mine. I had the lab run a comparison on the DNA and there’s a less than one in a hundred million chance that I’m not his father. I really haven’t thought about Winnie since I left London in 1916. I tried not to. It’s painful, and now I’m even angry with Lady Bournemouth for her bullshit. That baby was mine. He was mine to care for and protect. And I didn’t get to do that because she was a greedy bitch.”

  “Gonna take a while to get over that, eh?” Henry asked.

  “A long while. My biggest thing is that I can’t get mad at Collin for it. It’s not his fault his parents were shitbags.”

  “Is he staying here?” Dracen asked.

  “I don’t know. For now. But if he wants to stay, he has to have a vault. Which means digging another in the jewelry store basement.”

  Niko was caught mid-sip. He swallowed the beer quickly. “Not a problem if you need it. Sia and Poppy have some pretty neat ideas on how to excavate the area if he decides to. Total non-issues.”

  Max grabbed a pebble and hurled it into the lake. “You know, he’s got a bigger hoard than mine. His parents were insanely wealthy, and the family is old. I’m glad he’s got all that, but it just reinforces what shit conditions my family had to deal with. And it’s hard to grow your hoard in this day and age.”

  “Is your dragon angry about that?”

  “Of course, but there’s an understanding that I’m trying very hard to do it. The right way. Without pillaging and looting and burning things to the ground.”

  Henry coughed, and they all looked at him. “What? So, I might have pillaged and burned a village or two when I was younger. I also might have gone after the treasury at the Forbidden Palace. Maybe.”

  They chuckled, and Max tossed another pebble. “It just feelings like I was cheated.”

  “You were.” Dracen shrugged.

  “Thanks.” Max rolled his eyes.

  Darkwater was still as they all sat watching the sun sink in the summer sky. Max considered the water a moment and thought about the son he didn’t know he’d had. It was a complication—not an unwelcome one—but he hadn’t yet told Amy about Winnie, and he didn’t know how he was going to broach this subject. And what would she do when she found out he had a son?

  God, he missed her. The once a month trips with Niko weren’t doing it for him. He wanted her there. He was going to have to explain everything to her soon.

  “Do you think it’s too soon to tell Amy about why I can’t move to North Carolina?”

  “You two have been pretty damn serious about each other since the wedding,” Henry said. “If you’re sure she’s your mate, I wouldn’t wait. Trust me on that one.”

  “Are you ever going to tell us what the hell is going on with you and Keni? I mean, everyone in this damn town knows you two are mates. Why are you holding out?”

  “Nope. Not ready to go there.” Henry chugged the beer.

  The other three just rolled their eyes, and a moment later Dracen stood up.

  “All right. We’re not going to have time to do this again this year. I’m going in.” He pulled his shirt off and dropped his pants and boxers to the ground. Backing up a dozen feet, he ran for the edge and launched himself off the ledge and over the water of Darkwater Pond, arms and legs windmilling as he flew through the air—and then landed with a hard splash.

  A moment later the other three were naked and running for the water as well, all of them diving in in various ridiculous poses. The water was freezing, as usual, and Max felt all of his important parts withdraw quickly. Still it felt good to just jump in for the hell of it. The warm sun felt great as they broke the surface and swam around in the incredibly deep water.

  “Why the hell is this water always so cold?” Henry asked. “It’s cold and clear, but it’s the end of summer. Sho
uldn’t it be kind of warm?”

  “Nope.” Niko swam by doing a back stroke, sunning his junk, and Henry shielded his eyes. “It’s fed by Darkwater Creek, which comes from a cold spring about twenty miles north, just outside Oak Hill. And the pond has two cold water springs itself. One by where the creek spills in and one way deep down.”

  “Could we agree that backstrokes are off-limits?” Henry asked.

  Niko flipped over and dove down, plainly presenting his ass to Henry as an answer. Max laughed and decided he’d had enough of the cold water and swam to the edge. He watched through the cold clear water as Niko dove deeper and deeper, occasionally turn to flip them the bird. He went down, down—

  And stopped.

  Max’s heart dropped to his knees. He watched as Niko rolled over and his eyes bulged. His hand snapped to his throat and in that moment he knew Niko was drowning.

  “What the fuck…” Henry mumbled.

  Dracen saw what he did, and they exchanged looks. He was too deep for either of them to swim down and grab him. Max vaulted himself out of the water and ran back as far as he could, and up the cliff next to where they had been sitting and drinking beer. No one used the cliff because the water wasn’t deep enough to dive into at the edge, but he wasn’t looking for water depth—he was looking for height.

  With all the magic he could muster, Max launched himself off the cliff and as he started to fall, his dragon burst out of him, and he caught himself before he bellyflopped into the water. He arched up, going backward through a loop and dove into the water.

  He was an air dragon and wasn’t going to be very good in the water, but they had no choice. It was the only way to get down to Niko fast enough. He plowed through the water to where Niko was still clutching his throat and grabbed his friend in his massive claws. He swished his tail back and forth to propel them through the water up to the top where he cut through the surface and up into the air.

  As he skimmed over the ledge where their beers were, Max felt his magic sputtering and his dragon gasped in shock, suddenly being yanked back into human form. They were only a few feet above the rock and Max was able to land both of them easily without injury.