Sirris fins gave a savage slap on the surface of the pool and hot water flew in all directions.
“Hey, watch it.” Thomas growled at her.
She moaned, ignoring him. “Man, I am really tiring of dealing with his sorry ass!” Without waiting for a reply, she let her body slide forward and her head disappeared beneath the gurgling surface. It was several moments before she surfaced and I had to remind myself that she was part fish.
Thomas stared at the bubbling surface where Sirris had gone under. “We haven’t seen the last of him, have we?”
Fern suddenly giggled and all eyes flashed in her direction at the uncharacteristic sound. Fern was easily the most serious of us all. “See, didn’t I tell you? That’s a perk. At least in Basilisk Valley we should be safe from Will Bennett. Somebody else can deal with his crazy here while we are there. It won’t be us.”
I covered my mouth to hold back my snort of laughter at the thought. It was no good as we all lost it.
Maybe spending the summer in The Valley of the Dragons to find some answers to who I was wouldn’t be so bad after all.
We arrived in the town of Purdy, Colorado by bus. We hadn’t started out that way. Jerry Waverly had driven us to the train station in Breathless where we’d caught the train to Durango, Colorado. From there we’d hopped a bus for the last leg of the journey. It had rained the entire way, and I thought it reflected our moods. We got off in Purdy and ran for the station, hauling our belongings behind us. By the time the doors closed at our backs, we were mostly soaked. Only Sirris found the whole mess amusing. While the rest of us looked like drowned rats, Sirris looked fresh as springtime, her eyes alight with wonder. She didn’t bother to wipe the wetness from her cheeks, and her hair hung in a glistening waterfall down her back, smooth as silk.
I wrestled my own tangled mass of heavy dark hair into a ponytail. Without a brush it was less than neat, which pissed me off all over again. Then again, when had I ever cared about my hair? My eyes slid to Nick, standing tall and dark next to Thomas. The two of them were arguing about the advantages of the staff over the sword. They were ignoring the rest of us completely.
The station itself was deserted other than the clerk behind the desk and a smallish old woman that sat snoring on one bench. The worn clothing and well scuffed shoes beneath the strangest hat I’d ever seen made me wonder if she might be homeless. She gave an unladylike snort in her sleep that made me grin.
I moved towards the main desk. “Hey, I’ll check with the clerk and see if there’s any word on someone coming to pick us up. Mr. Hobert said last week that someone would be here.”
Nick caught my eye with a scowl. “Some welcome.”
The clerk in question had seen middle age come and go and probably from that seat if her over abundant stature was anything to go by. The stool she sat on gave a groan of protest every time she moved, which wasn’t often. She looked up from the magazine she was reading as I approached, slightly irritated at the interruption.
My scowl deepened. It was her job. “Hey. It was our understanding that someone was supposed to be here to meet us when we arrived. My names Sadie Cross. Did anyone leave a message?” Her eyes never wavered, and I wondered if maybe I needed to repeat the question. Just as my mouth opened to do just that, she spoke.
“Yup. showed up. Your bus was late.” She drawled, voice raspy from either too many cigarettes or lack of use. I was banking on the latter. Her eyes left mine and nodded to the diminutive figure slumbering on the bench.
I swung away from the counter and moved closer to the little woman. She was still sawing logs as we gathered around her.
We shared a confused look. Wasn’t it dangerous to startle someone that old awake or something?
Fern suffered under no such illusion. Before we could stop her she stepped forward and nudged the old woman rudely with her boot. “Hey, Ma’am, wake up. We’re here.” The nasally rendition cut off in mid snort. Slowly the ‘lady’ in question opened her eyes and blinked up at us, bleary-eyed. A slow smile spread over her face, revealing several missing teeth in front and adding rather than taking away from the years. She was old.
“Well then. Late you are,” she muttered. She stuck her hand out and Thomas took it without thought and helped pull her to her feet. Did her joints just creak?
She held onto Thomas’ hand. “Names Ava Jones. You are?” Introductions were made all around. She gathered her things from the bench and headed for the door. “Let’s get at then, times a wasting and I’m short on it. Sides, damn rain’s gonna wash us down the mountain if we don’t get up that road before it the next bout of weather. Happens a fair piece in the Spring. And apparently also this summer.” We followed her outside. It was still raining, but she walked out into it like it was a sunny day, keys jangling in her hands as she pulled them out of her pockets. At the curb sat a bright orange hummer. I froze in shock and blinked the rain out of my eyes. Where had that come from? I was sure I’d have remembered if it were there when we got off the bus.
“Toss your things in the back and make it quick. You kids aren’t getting any drier and it will smell like wet dog as it is.” She cackled at her own humor as she pulled herself up into the driver’s seat and onto the pillow there so she could see over the steering wheel to drive. My eyes met Thomas’ who seemed perplexed rather than upset by her words.
“Um, would you like one of us to drive?” Nick asked her from the front passenger seat. The rest of us piled in behind. She shot him a glare. “What? I don’t look like I can handle this baby? I think you better sit back and buckle up, buttercup.” She shot back, cackling.
The six of us buckled up.
I didn’t know that a hummer could peel rubber. Apparently, when driven by a ninety-year-old woman on wet pavement—it can. Five minutes in, our fingers gripping the roll bars above our heads, we concluded that we were all going to die. Ava Jones had one speed. The pedal flat on the floor as we left town, doing an easy fifty in a thirty. We fishtailed through enormous stands of water in the streets. Where were the cops when you needed them?
Up the mountain road we sloshed, through deep ruts and a muddy river that ran down the middle in a steady stream of brown water. Unseen potholes combined with the hydroplaning of the vehicle sent us airborne repeatedly. My head connected with the bars above me and I saw stars before my vision cleared once more. Add concussion, I thought acerbically.
The one of us that looked unperturbed was Fern. “Hey, can’t you get this thing to go any faster?” she shrieked, grinning like the maniac I had long suspected she was.
The old woman cackled as a vicious rut slammed us all sideways and she slid off her pillow. Nick screamed and pushed her back on. She sent him a grin and a wink, but when she spoke it was to Fern. “What? You want more?” she shouted.
We all screamed “No” in a panic.
Fern giggled. “Yes,” she breathed, eyes hopping with excitement.
We went faster.
THE VALLEY ITSELF WAS more an opening in the middle of some of the tallest trees I’d ever seen than an actual valley. A wide open meadow spread out into an impressive field of meadow flowers and buffalo grass close to a mile up the mountain from Purdy. In its center was an identical grouping of cabins arranged in a large circle with a massive firepit taking center stage. I counted fifteen of them. Farther out and dotted around the valley were other cabins that were larger and had more character to them, each one different from its neighbor.
Ava pulled to a screeching halt in the wide drive next to a rusted out jeep and a Dodge Truck with a dented bed. Both had seen better days. At least it had stopped raining for the time being. We unloaded our things and tried to keep up with Ava, who strode out ahead of us at a fast clip. Old, my ass.
That was when I realized we weren’t the only ones in camp. Most of the cabins showed definite signs of habitation. A couple of them occupied by several teens languishing on rockers on the covered front porches each cabin sported. Little white numbers were
painted above the doors.
“Hey, look at that. The cabin numbers.” Nick nudged me as I pulled my suitcase through the mud behind me. I looked closer. Surrounding each number on every door was a small black dragon, curled around them, head to toe with forked tongues and bright orange eyes.
Ava halted. “This is it. Each of these cabins sleeps four easy when we are at capacity. We’ve set up two of them for you kids. Cabin 13 and 14. Questions?” She didn’t wait for us to have any. She stuck a gnarled finger out to her left, pointing at a massive cabin set back from the others and just outside the circle. “That there is the dining hall. Also, where meetings are held and most classes requiring seat work. There aren’t many of those. You missed lunch, so I hope you ate. They serve supper at 5:30. Don’t be late, cook gets testy if you are, and then you miss dessert.” She glanced at all of us, damp and bedraggled from the wet journey. She sighed.
“Get settled in already. Clean up and we’ll see you then. The man himself is joining us tonight and will probably have a bit to say to you all on your first day.”
AVA JONES WAS THE COOK. I shouldn’t have been surprised. Still, the ample bowls of goulash and cornbread hit the spot, and we each had seconds of the homemade chocolate chip cookies she served on platters at each table. Unlike the Commons, the tables here were all large and round, each sitting up to six at a time unless one pulled a seventh chair. Some had. Almost all the tables were full, and I estimated there were close to fifty students besides us gathered in the enormous room.
A group of several of them helped Ava serve and I found out later that the cabins took turns rotating services, which meant at some point we’d have a turn helping as well. Swell, I couldn’t even escape kitchen duty when I was at camp.
Franz Hobert, true to Ava’s word, had joined them for dinner. He sat at another table of students across the room from us.
Thomas reached out to grab the last cookie from the basket in the middle of the table, but he wasn’t quick enough.
“Snoozing, Tuttle.” I snatched it faster and smiled at him around a mouthful of chocolate.
He shot me a dirty look.
A commotion on the other end of the room pulled our attention. Franz Hobert stood up.
I stared at the man who had invited us to attend his camp. Not unlike Will Bennett, Franz was nothing more than ordinary. He might have topped 5’10” inches on a good day. His dark hair hung in unruly waves longer than was the fashion, curling over the back of his collar and onto his back. The full bushy beard matched it.
His dark eyes moved around the room, taking time to pause on every table in attendance. “Welcome. I can see this session will be full up again. I hope you have a marvelous time this summer and take back more knowledge than you came with.” He nodded to a table of adults and they all stood and waved before sitting back down. “The counselors, you’ll get more former introductions when you hit their classes. You’ll find that the instructional hours are short, but the practice times are long. You’ll work, you’ll sweat, failure will become an opportunity, and success a chance to be humble. You’ll rotate between the three main courses over the course of each day. Counselors have posted times and groups on your cabin doors and those will be waiting when you get back.” He sat down when Ava came out of the kitchen, palming a cell phone that disappeared into the voluminous folds of her heavy skirt. She made a straight beeline for Franz and bent low to whisper in his ear.
He shot her a grim look and straightened back up and cleared his throat. “One more thing. It seems that a student from Purdy has gone missing. Jake Winters, some of you may know of him? Anyway, it’s possible he simply wandered into the Weminuche Wilderness Preserve here on Greylock Mountain and got lost. Let’s keep our eyes peeled in case. Oh, and until they settle this, I’m putting a ‘no fly’ order in place as a precaution. Several groans followed his announcement from other tables.
Franz Hobert moved to the table of counselors and bent down to talk to them, but we couldn’t hear what he said.
“What’s a ‘no fly’ order?” Sirris asked, perplexed.
Thomas shrugged, thoughtful. “Well, this is Basilisk Valley and its mostly a camp for Dragon shifters, right?”
I nodded and picked up where he left off. “So, it means that nobody shifts and takes to the skies right now. Remember, no shield like Drae Valley, so they have to be careful about what the humans see flying over their heads, right?”
Nick nodded. “Makes sense. I mean, did you see the trees we drove through? Huge, tall. As long as you didn’t fly too high, the only thing that could see you would be someone standing in the valley or flying in a plane overhead. Wonder what they do for that?”
I determined to ask Franz Hobert those very questions the first chance I got.
CHAPTER THREE
“THEY FLED TO THIS VALLEY to escape persecution and to avoid the hangman’s noose. They carried what their shifter bodies could hold, flying by night above the clouds and hiding by day in the dense stands of wilderness that blanketed this country then. Only 23 of them made it, including Elspeth, her father, and her brothers. Her mother died in this valley from her wounds. Three hundred years ago is a long time. Which is one reason it is so important that we, as Magicals, keep our presence shielded from the human population. We should never underestimate their power...”
I was interested—I was. But as the soothing voice of counselor Blair Davies droned on my attention wandered along with my eyes. I hadn’t slept well the night before, too excited I suppose, and nervous. I’d been waiting a long time to find out about my history if it was indeed mine. Just because it was the story of one particular Dragon family, didn’t mean we were long lost relatives. I frowned, in fact both my mom and dad had never been real forthcoming on our family history. As a teenager, I’d never really pushed to find out. I watched Thomas as he dutifully took notes, looking interested despite the fact we all knew this had nothing to do with him. Even Sirris and Nick were managing to pay attention. Fern hadn’t written a thing, but her eyes were alert.
At one point, she glanced up to catch mine with a solemn speculation I found disconcerting.
My attention wandered to the fifteen other students sitting at the roughhewn wooden tables and chairs around the small cabin. Outside, rain splattered against the windows and continued to patter against the roof. I wondered when it would ever stop. It had been raining for three days now. So bad in fact, that the road leading down the mountain, the same one we’d come up, was completely washed out as Ava Jones had predicted. I hoped they had plenty of supplies stocked back, because at this rate it would be a week before anyone got to town to get more.
So many teenage bodies in one place had made the temperature rise and at some point, Blair had propped the door open to the front porch with a chair to let in the rain-soaked breeze. I sucked in a great lungful in appreciation. A hint of wood smoke from the fire mingled with the fresh wet grass and the dark loamy soil that would squish beneath our feet when we left. And something sweet. I thought back to what the vampires had said the semester before. They’d said I smelled like candy. They’d gotten a whiff of my Dragon blood. I’d never really noticed it before, but then again, I’d never been enclosed in a room with fifteen other Dragon shifters before, either. I could smell it too. I grinned. Who was I kidding? I’d been expecting smoke and ashes, right?
An odd feeling washed over me, making the skin on my arms pebble with goosebumps. I turned my head to look behind me. We sat at the front, leaving three other tables in back of us. My eyes pulled to a table of students on my back left. Five teenage boys and one girl stared front and center, hanging onto every word Blair uttered, like he was giving all the answers to the next big exam.
Nobody looked at me. Except the one boy who seemed to be deliberately ignoring me. When I continued to stare, his eyes rose and met mine with lazy amusement, not bothering to hide the fact that he’d been caught. I blinked, not because it was rude to not look away, but because I’d never seen a
nother boy so beautiful before. The thought made my cheeks darken. Girls were pretty, boys were handsome, everybody knew that.
Bright green eyes stared at me from beneath long copper lashes to match the darker bronze of his hair. The wide shoulders and long legs, casual and relaxed as he leaned back in his chair, were hard to ignore. I imagined he would top six feet easy. It wasn’t just the pretty boy looks that grabbed and held my attention, though. The lazy confidence he wore with such ease helped to round out the package. I wasn’t sure which I found more attractive.
I continued to stare right up until the moment he winked at me. The speed with which I whipped my flaming face front and center away from that disconcerting smirk threatened to give me whiplash.
My cheeks burned and I realized my wandering eyes hadn’t gone unnoticed. Sirris leaned in and in the barest of whispers spoke in my ear. “Hot for sure. Wonder who he is?”
I scowled and met Nick’s dark glare across the table, which only embarrassed me further. What was ruffling his feathers? It wasn’t like we were, or ever would be, an item. That wasn’t happening. “I don’t care. He can keep his hot mouth right where it is.” I hissed.
Fern leaned in on my other side. “How do you know he has one?” She smirked. I shot her a venomous glare, my teeth grinding in irritation.
Blair Davies voice chose that moment to rise and seemed to drift over our table in particular. We’d been caught whispering. I snapped my mouth shut and snatched up my pencil and started taking notes.
I wrote as he talked, but I’d have to reread them later and ask someone who’d been paying better attention. I had no idea what they meant.
“... Elspeth Walsh was her full name. The youngest daughter of Duncan Walsh and the first Celtic Dragon shifter to be sentenced to hang by the neck until dead for Witchcraft...”
THE CLIMACTIC VAGARIES of the Colorado Mountains were unpredictable. As class wound down to a close for the day and we snapped our notebooks closed, Franz Hobert paid us a visit.
Valley of the Dragons (Rule 9 Academy, #3) Page 3
