Enchanted Ivy

by Sarah Beth Durst

  The dragon pitched forward again. Wind battered Lily's face. The forest rushed toward them. She screamed. Tye howled as if he were on a roller coaster.

  Pulling up, the dragon skimmed over the tops of the trees. She heard the sounds of the forest below--a distant whispering. The air smelled like pine and rivers and earth after rain. It smelled like Tye. She let the sun warm her face, and she leaned back against Tye.

  As they flew on, she saw a tower of stone beside a tumbling waterfall. Mermaids dove through the spray. Beyond the waterfall were villages of trees whose limbs had woven into houses high above the forest floor. She watched tall, pale elves, as thin as slivers of moonlight, glide across branches, and she saw monkeylike and catlike men and women scurry among them. The dragon flew farther and circled a city. Skyscrapers of mother-of-pearl gleamed in the sunlight, more beautiful than any painting Lily had ever seen.

  All too soon, the dragon flew back to campus. Gliding to a landing, he tore tracks in the green as he skidded to a halt beside the gate.

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  "Well?" Tye asked.

  "That was ..." She tried to think of a word to describe it. Every word felt too small to fit the feeling of soaring through the wind. Instead, she leaned toward the dragon's neck and said, "Thank you."

  Rumbling beneath her, the dragon said, "You are welcome, little Key."

  Tye slid off the dragon's back first. Lily followed and slipped down the scales. Unfortunately, she kept sliding as her knees collapsed underneath her. She landed in a heap at Tye's feet.

  "Graceful," he commented.

  "Shut up," she said.

  "And witty," he said.

  "Are you going to be a gentleman and help me up, or just stand around being amused at your own cleverness?" she asked.

  "Stand around, I think," he said. But he held out his hand to her. She untangled her legs and stood. "Better?" he asked.

  Lily nodded. "Got my land legs back now." Unfortunately, the whispering buzz was worse. She stuck a finger in her ear and wiggled it. It didn't help.

  Behind her, the dragon launched back into the air. She turned and watched him fly away, emerald scales sparkling against the blue sky. She wished she could have kept flying with him forever. That had been ... incredible. Beyond awesome, in every sense of the word. High above the campus,

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  the dragon was joined by a second dragon. The two twisted and danced through the clouds, scales flashing and sparkling in the sun.

  "Get any hints, any feelings, about your heritage?" Tye asked.

  "You mean, did I suddenly want to sprout wings or change into a wolf?" she asked. She pretended to check herself for wings or fur. "Nope."

  Tye shrugged as if it weren't a big deal. "Well, you've absorbed enough. We should know soon."

  She raised her eyebrows at him. "You like cryptic comments, don't you?"

  "It's the cat in me."

  Lily laughed despite herself.

  Unamused, the gold eagles stared down at them. One ruffled his feathers, and she heard the clink of metal. On the other side of the gate was Nassau Hall, silent and stately. Lily stared up at the Princeton medallion embedded in the iron. "So I just waltz through and poof! I'm back in the human world?"

  "Pretty much, yeah," Tye said. "That's what makes Keys so special and awesome. For everyone else ... ordinary gate. For Keys ... poof!"

  "Huh," she said. He said it so casually.

  "It's because Keys belong to both worlds," he said.

  "Or neither," she said.

  "Or neither," he agreed. "Keys need to switch worlds at

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  least once a month to stay alive. But without Keys, no one would be able to switch worlds, ever. Only time a non-Key can pass through is if a Key goes with him. Again note the specialness and awesomeness."

  She didn't care about that. All she cared about was the fact that she could get home. "Do I walk in or out of the gate to return to my world?"

  "Either direction works," Tye said. "But it's safer to walk in."

  "Safer?" Her gaze shifted to the eagles' talons.

  "Last time I walked out the gate, a bike slammed into me."

  She grinned. A boy who could turn into a tiger, felled by a bicycle.

  "Don't overdo the sympathy," he said. "I did crack a rib."

  Lily schooled her expression. "Poor kitty." A thought occurred to her. "You're one, too." She should have realized it sooner. She'd been so preoccupied with the revelation about herself. "A half breed. You're a Key, too."

  "Yep," he said. He caught her hand and pressed his lips to the back of it. "That's why we're destined to be soul mates."

  She felt her jaw drop open.

  Lightly, he lifted her jaw back up. His fingers brushed her cheek. "Guess I should have waited a bit before springing that on you," he said. "Go ahead home. Your grandfather must be worried about you. You should tell him you're okay. And that you passed the test. You're a Princeton girl now."

  She gawked at him, stunned twice in less than thirty seconds. She hadn't thought about it, but she had passed

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  the Legacy Test. She'd found the Key. And she'd also found an adorable college boy with dreamy eyes and feline superpowers who had mistaken her for soul-mate material. He must have been joking, she thought. Yeah, that seemed a lot more likely. "Okay ... I'll, um, see you soon?"

  He flashed her his cocky lopsided smile. "You can count on it."

  She stared at him for a moment longer and then she walked through FitzRandolph Gate. Everything flashed white.

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  CHAPTER Seven

  "Welcome back, little Key," one of the stone eagles said. "I have alerted Vineyard Club of your return. Remain here, please."

  "Uh, thanks," Lily said. She looked up at the eagles. The sky behind them was a crisp blue, empty of clouds and dragons. The forest was gone, replaced by Nassau Street. Pedestrians walked past banks, jewelry stores, and coffee shops. She heard the whoosh of cars, in addition to the now familiar radio hum in her ears. The air tasted thinner, as if she'd suddenly switched altitudes, but her skin still buzzed with the fizzy feeling of magic.

  She heard a shout. "Lily!"

  Grandpa jogged across the yard toward her. A half-dozen men and women trailed behind him. "You knew!" she shouted to him. "You knew about"--she flapped her hand at the gate--"all of this!" She'd never imagined he'd

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  keep any secret from her, much less anything so major.

  Beaming with a smile so wide it should have split his face, Grandpa swept her up and swung her in a circle. "You did it!" He set her back down.

  "Grandpa ...," she began.

  "Careful what you say; we can't talk freely here." He kissed her forehead. "Oh, my tigerlily, I am so very proud of you!" Grandpa was practically singing. She'd never seen him so gleeful. It was as unexpected as talking gargoyles.

  Swarming around Lily and Grandpa, the alums chattered loudly about Reunions: the new class's Reunions jackets, the number of Old Guard (70th Reunion and older) who had returned, the fireworks display that was planned for Saturday after P-rade. Inside the circle of chattering Old Boys, Lily and Grandpa were swept across campus. It felt as if they were guarding her--or hiding her--with their bodies and their voices.

  Under the cover of their babble, she asked Grandpa, "Why didn't you tell me?"

  His smile dimmed. "You had to discover the truth on your own. That's the point of the Legacy Test: to determine if you can handle the truth by offering you the opportunity to discover it. It's a tried-and-true method."

  "It sucks," Lily said.

  He clucked his tongue. "Language."

  "It's cruel and manipulative, and you lied to me," she said. "What am I? What was Dad?"

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  "A loving father," Grandpa said. "That's what's important." Putting his arm around her, he squeezed her shoulders. "Lily, you have to trust me. The secrecy was necessary. All of this is larger than you or me."

  "Do
es Mom know about 'all of this'?"

  Grandpa sighed. "She used to. She's forgotten so much."

  Quietly, Lily said, "She's getting worse, isn't she?"

  "There's hope, Lily," Grandpa said. "Soon, I will explain to you both. But first, we need to celebrate what you've achieved! Tonight, we'll celebrate at Vineyard Club, and then tomorrow morning, I'll take you and your mother to Pj's Pancake House for a celebratory breakfast. You'll love it there. You can sign your name on the table. It's tradition there, not vandalism."

  "Where is Mom? You didn't leave her alone again, did you?" Aside from the fact that the campus was infested with vampiric monsters, Mom might have one of her "ideas." She could decide to tame squirrels or climb the vines on one of the Gothic classrooms to commune with the sun from a closer angle--she'd done similar things before. "And what do you mean, 'there's hope'?"

  "She's being watched," Grandpa said. "Lily, focus on yourself for once. You did it! You passed!" He beamed at her again.

  As they crossed the street, she tried to push aside all the million questions and revel in that fact. She really had done it: automatic acceptance to Princeton! So what if her dream

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  school had a few quirks she hadn't expected? She could avoid walking through the main gate (which wouldn't be hard since it was a common student superstition to circumvent that gate), avoid eye contact with gargoyles (again, not hard since most people didn't try to chat up stone sculptures), and avoid being attacked by rampaging monkey-things (always sound advice).

  They turned onto Prospect Avenue, and she heard the steady static in her ears mix with a buzz. It undercut the chatter of the alums around her, but before she could pinpoint the source, she was swept down the sidewalk toward Vineyard Club.

  "Lots of people are waiting to congratulate you," Grandpa said. "You are more important than you know. We haven't had reliable access to the magic world in many years." He pointed to the club. Mr. Mayfair and his grandson, Jake, flanked the front door, holding it open as if they were honor guards. Last time she'd seen Jake, he'd shoved her away while she'd bled. He'd found a new blood-free shirt since then. Softly, Grandpa added close to Lily's ear, "Go easy on Jake. His parents were killed by the Chained Dragon. Seeing you survive was a shock."

  Lily halted halfway to the door. "Oh, God, how awful."

  "It was years ago," Grandpa said. "But still, it was a terrible tragedy. Jake's parents ... they'd had a messy divorce and were only beginning to find peace."

  So much for her image of Jake's perfect family. She realized

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  Tye had told her about this, the time the dragon killed a Key and escaped the chapel. She hadn't thought to wonder about his other victims. "If Jake hadn't pulled me away ..."

  "Yes, we could have had another FitzRandolph Gate Tragedy on our hands," Grandpa said. "But thankfully, that didn't happen, so let's not dwell on it right now. Once you begin your training, we'll focus on avoiding reckless endangerment."

  She didn't have a chance to reply. Surrounded by the half-dozen alums, she was herded toward Jake and the door. As she reached him, Jake blushed heavily before mumbling, "Congratulations, Lily."

  She tried to think of something, anything, to say to him. No wonder he'd been so agitated at the chapel--he'd been in the presence of his parents' killer.

  Jake looked as if he wanted to say more but he glanced at his grandfather instead.

  Mr. Mayfair smiled warmly at her and said, "Well done, Lily Carter. And welcome." He shook Grandpa's hand. "Congratulations, Richard. You were right."

  "Of course I was," Grandpa said. "I know my tigerlily." Beaming even more broadly than before, Grandpa ushered Lily inside.

  Within the club, the weird radio static in her head faded beneath the hum of conversation. The club was packed with alums. They filled the leather couches and leaned against the mahogany walls. She hesitated just inside the doorway.

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  "Don't be nervous now," Grandpa whispered in her ear. "You passed! You're one of us!"

  By the grand staircase, she saw a spread of cheese squares and a fondue fountain with skewers of fruit. Her stomach rumbled in response. You can't be nervous in a place with fondue, she told herself.

  Placing his hands on her shoulders, Grandpa boomed to the assembly, "Allow me to present our newest member, my granddaughter, Lily, soon to be a Princeton freshman and our very own Key!"

  All the Old Boys applauded. A few of the younger ones whistled and cheered. Others clapped politely and then swilled their whiskey and resumed their conversations.

  As she and her grandfather ventured farther into the club, alums flocked to them. All the Old Boys that she remembered from her initial meeting--the man who'd held the book upside down, the heavyset woman with the ivory cane, the primly postured women--welcomed her. Others introduced themselves and shook her hand. She'd never had so many adults notice her before. Part of her wanted to bolt out of the club.

  She spotted trays of pastry puffs. Someone offered her a shrimp. Grandpa accepted a drink. He clinked glasses with a nearby member and began to chat. A circle of alumni closed around her. Lily shifted her weight nervously as they studied her with a fascination that was more than a little bit alarming. She took a pastry puff and shoved it into her mouth. It was a

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  good excuse for not saying anything. She hadn't the faintest idea how to start a conversation with these people. Plus she hadn't eaten since a rest stop on the New Jersey Turnpike that morning. She grabbed a second puff.

  "Did you see any indication of military activity?" one man asked.

  She nearly choked on the pastry. She swallowed. "Sorry?"

  He wore an orange cravat and had eyebrows like woolly caterpillars. "Any large gatherings? Anything that could have been a training camp?" he asked.

  Her appetite vanished. "It was a college campus," Lily said, "a lot like the real Princeton. But the students had more fur, feathers, and fangs."

  "And what were those 'students' studying?" a woman asked. She was young, clearly a recent grad, and spoke with a Japanese accent. She regarded Lily intently, as if she were cataloging Lily's every breath.

  "Please understand, we do trust the professors," said the man who had held the book upside down. "But the majority of them have not seen their home in a full century."

  One of the prim women chimed in. "Exactly why we should seize this opportunity to convene a summit! Now that we'll have a Key we can trust, we can renew relations. We will be able to send envoys freely, perhaps resume scientific expeditions. We can end our isolationism!"

  Ignoring her, the man with the orange cravat said,

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  "Numbers, weaponry, anything you learned about strategy or fighting styles. Any observations at all?"

  The prim woman interrupted. "That is precisely the attitude--"

  "We need to know--," the man began.

  "You need lessons in diplomacy," the woman said. "Perhaps if you lessened your testosterone-laden xenophobia--"

  "I am realistic, not xenophobic!"

  All the Old Boys around her pressed in closer as the argument heated up. Lily wished she could sink against a wall and disappear. She glanced over at her grandfather for help, but he was engrossed in his own conversation.

  "What sort of intelligence did the council glean from you?" a man in a striped blazer asked. "How much information did you volunteer?"

  "Nothing!" Lily said. "They said to remind the 'knights' of Princeton that they don't condone Feeders, and they support you."

  "See!" the prim woman said. "It's time to normalize relations! Refresh our treaties! Confirm our alliance!"

  "Propaganda," the man with the orange cravat said. "This is useless. She's useless!"

  Finally coming to her rescue, Grandpa put his hands on Lily's shoulders. "She hasn't been trained," he said. "She has zero background. You can't expect--"

  "Trained or not, she could supply valuable intel, if she chooses to and if she hasn't
already decided her loyalties

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  lie against us." The man pounded his fist into his palm for emphasis.

  Grandpa's face darkened. "Are you questioning my grand-daughter's integrity?" His voice was low, even, and clipped. Lily barely breathed. She'd heard him take that tone of voice only a few times before. Last time had been at a man who'd tried to corner Mom, mistaking her flightiness for flirting. Lily shrank back, again wishing she could disappear. "I have raised her as human," Grandpa said. "If you question her, then you question me." He thumped his chest for emphasis. "Are you questioning me?"

  Had Grandpa really said "as human"? Lily wanted to ask him again about her father, but she was positive that this wasn't the right time or place. She'd be better off if she didn't speak at all. If she could shrink to mouse size and sneak away, that would be good, too.

  Mr. Mayfair interrupted. "Gentlemen and ladies, if you don't mind, I need to steal our guest of honor for a moment." The orange-cravat man scowled as if he wanted to object. "Our sommelier has obtained a few bottles of high-quality Bordeaux. Please, it would be a crime to waste them." Encouraged by Mr. Mayfair, the knot of alumni around Lily dispersed.

  Lily's knees felt as if they'd been jellied. Usually the scariest person in her day was her AP Chem teacher. She wasn't used to facing an inquisition over pastry puffs. "Thank you," she said to Mr. Mayfair. He inclined his head.

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  Grandpa was still fuming. "You're untrained! How anyone could expect--"

  "Fear breeds impatience," Mr. Mayfair said. "And they have been afraid, ever since reports began trickling in about the Feeders uniting. ... But that's not talk for today. This is a joyous occasion!" He smiled and winked at Lily, and she began to feel better. Mr. Mayfair exuded calmness. He was like a tree with wide, sheltering solid branches in the middle of a rainstorm. "Her approach to the truth was ... unconventional, but she completed the Legacy Test in record time and demonstrated the necessary flexibility in her worldview. I have no doubt that she will be a great asset to us in our battles."