“I think we can just sniff out good people,” Nina said warmly.
Rachel jumped up as a timer went off. “I have to go put the muffins in,” she said as she hurried off. “Then I want to hear about your last pre-ceremony meeting ever!”
It had been strange growing up without dragons for parents, but Nat, Desmond, and Rachel Olinda had been more than enough to help Nina grow up feeling safe and loved. She and Rachel spent summers at the community center the Olindas owned, formerly with her own parents; when Nina was old enough, they allowed her to explore the enormous underground cavern underneath the center itself, one that her parents had helped them build. They’d planned on starting their own horde and using the cavern as a meeting hall—and their home. Those plans had gone down the drain after the plane they were on lost its engines and crashed into the Atlantic Ocean. Nina was three when they died. A few weeks later, she moved in with the Olindas.
What would have happened if they’d stuck around? Would I be less awkward, more social, more likable? Would I feel less broken? Or was I just made this way?
Rachel flopped next to her on the couch again. “Hey,” she said, noticing the introspective look on Nina’s face. “Thinking about your parents?”
She nodded, watching her sister through a thin veil of tears.
Rachel squeezed Nina’s hand. “My parents gush about them all the time, and from what I know, they’d be so proud of you. Honestly, Nina, you’re so much more than you think.”
Nina scoffed. “More what? Awkward? Annoying? Screwed?”
Rachel didn’t laugh. “Composed. Charming. Capable. More of a person, and more of a dragon. Just... more.” Her expression darkened. “More than that bitch Carrie, definitely.”
Nina laughed and brushed tears from her eyes, the weight on her chest lifting. “Man, I shouldn’t have told you about her. I think you hate her more than I do.”
“What are sisters for?” Rachel said softly.
Nina shifted in her seat. “Thank you, Rachel. For being here. You’re my best friend... probably my only friend.”
“You’ve got plenty of friends,” Rachel said sharply.
Nina shook her head and looked around at their walls, covered in pictures of her, their parents, and no one else. “None that are here for me like you.”
Her sister smiled. “Yeah, well, just remember you’re stronger than you think. And you’re more than you think. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Rachel’s expression turned fragile for a moment, but she shook her head and cleared it as she spoke again. “Whatever, I’d get jealous if you had another best friend, anyway.” She looked at her bare wrist, frowned, then raised her other arm to read the time on her digital watch. “We have half an hour before these muffins finish. Want to challenge the pizza place and see if we can a free deluxe?”
***
Nina lay awake until 2:00 AM, her eyes glued to the cold bars of moonlight slipping through her blinds. The day kept replaying in her head, and she felt raw from running through it so many times. When she willed herself to stop thinking about it, her mind instead turned to her parents and the one clear memory she had of them: a family beach trip they must have taken her on just weeks before they died.
Her father was reaching out to her with brawny arms covered in coarse black hair, eyes twinkling like the sea behind him. The wind was lifting the top of his hair, and his normally pale skin was starting to get pink under the hot sun. Her mother stood on the shoreline, waving at her with both arms, so that the sleeves of her bathing suit cover-up looked like the flap of bright pink wings instead of cotton cloth. The tide broke over the back of her nut-brown calves and covered her feet and ankles before shyly creeping back to merge with the waves again. In the memory, as she watched the motion of the water, she felt excitement slowly breaking through the layer of fear that was keeping her from joining her parents; finally, she leaped into her father’s arms, giggling as they raced toward her mother and the waves. Nina remembered being cradled between the two of them, and how they both smelled of sun and salt and something smoky and heated just below the surface; it was the best smell in the world to her, even now. Even though she hadn’t smelled it in twenty years.
How long after that did they die? How much longer did I have with them?
None of these questions mattered in the long run. It would never be enough time. It still hurt so much to think about that she went so far as to avoid saying their names aloud whenever she could. Even the Olindas didn’t seem to like talking about them. Beyond the handful of stories they told about when they were young and the photo album they would pull out, Nat and Desmond avoided mentioning Cheyenne and Jasper Henry unless Nina asked them directly—and she almost never did, fearing the incredible tension that sprung between them whenever she had a question.
At some point, Nina closed her eyes and began to dream. She could always tell when she was dreaming, and that was usually an advantage, because she could stop the dream at any time. Lately, though, it was different. She couldn’t stop this particular recurring dream, and knowing she was dreaming never made the terror she felt any less real.
She was standing knee-deep in a pile of jagged bones. Some of the bones were as small as her pinky finger, but most of them were as long as her arm and twice as wide. Nina felt a strange kinship to the bones; she had the urge to take them and bury them properly, but there was no time.
(Why am I rushing? The answer was never clear.)
She was naked, and every few steps brought the tip of a bone against her shin or ankles, slicing into her just deep enough to draw blood. Most of the bones either crumbled or exploded into dust as she moved past, and the powder was starting to collect on the soles of her feet. She couldn’t stop herself from moving forward—she couldn’t even slow down, though she tried the whole time. Her tightly muscled body was slick with sweat, and there was a very low, almost indiscernible rumble in the distance, like the sound of a massive dragon snoring. Dragons didn’t get as big as this one sounded—not anymore, anyway; but this was a dream, she remembered, so rules didn’t apply. She hoped, as she did every night for the last three months, that she wouldn’t wake it up.
There didn’t seem to be any walls around her, or maybe the place was so big she couldn’t see them. There was moonlight coming from somewhere, and most of its rays were pointed at a titanic throne a hundred yards ahead. It was a deep copper color; a set of intricate silver designs crawled up its back, showing a massive and oddly shaped tree. The tree had a trunk that split into two smaller trunks, both of which curved upward and exploded into a half-dome of branches and leaves, like a living mushroom cloud. The leaves of the tree were painted gold. As Nina drew closer, she saw a trail of rubies covering a slim section of the trunk, and it reminded her of a tiny river of blood. But trees don’t bleed.
She finally reached the back of the throne and looked up, craning her neck to see the top of it. It was at least eighty feet high, but her body urged her to grab hold of the rubies nearest to her and start pushing herself up the trunk of the odd tree. Nina was strong in real life, but Dream Nina had an unreal power that let her scale the throne in around five seconds. Her arms and legs moved in sync, and her hands seemed to stick to the cold metal, like a lizard climbing a chilly window. She was at the top of the throne in almost no time at all, and as soon as she raised her head over the top, the familiar feeling of dread started to choke her.
Don’t look over this time. Don’t look over.
Nina felt herself pull her body high enough to swing first one leg over the side, then the other. She was sitting on the chilly metal completely nude, her legs bleeding freely, droplets of blood falling from her shins as her heart started to beat wildly in her chest. She felt herself jump, felt the wind rush past her battered body as she fell toward the plush purple seat below. When she landed, the seat hardly moved, as if she weighed nothing in comparison to its intended owner.
The rumbling was louder now; she could feel the sou
nd waves jostling her bones as she stared at the front of the throne, thinking don’t turn around don’t turn around don’t turn around—
But she turned around, like always.
In front of her was something that had once been alive and part of something else. It looked vaguely like the midsection of any number of animals—tough, rectangular, filled with organs—but now it mostly resembled a pile of raw, shredded steak with a broken spine bisecting the meat. Bits of leathery red skin were visible in some places, and it was the only other indication that it had ever belonged to a larger, living thing. The smell of blood crept into her mouth and throat, teasing the bile from her stomach until she had to hold her breath to avoid vomiting.
The mess wasn’t the worse part. The worst part was the still-beating heart, thudding wetly next to what looked like a deflated lung, chugging along even though its reason for pumping had long since abandoned it. The heart was as long as her own body. Nina’s fear reached its apex. She stopped trying to hold herself back and started trying to look somewhere else—anywhere other than at the giant beating heart.
It was no use. Her legs took one step forward, buckled, and brought her body to its knees. A plume of steam issued from somewhere up ahead, and she felt the air around her start to crackle and heat. The snoring had stopped.
Nina’s hands reached out to touch the heart, and she was (as always) appalled at how much she loved the squelch of the tender muscle beneath her hold. It started to beat faster, like it was frightened, and a frisson of excitement took hold of her.
I need this, she thought in the dream. I need this to bring everything together.
(The meaning of this thought was never clear, she realized.)
The ground was starting to shake, and there were a series of what sounded like small explosions audible in the distance—the footsteps of a gargantuan beast coming to see who was trying to claim its kill.
Don’t do this. Please don’t do this.
Dream Nina was salivating. Her hands plunged into the heart’s muscle, and a river of pungent black blood ran over her wrists. A roar split the air, the force of it blowing her straight black hair away from her face as she readied herself.
Don’t.
Dream Nina buried her face in the heart and began to eat voraciously. She was screaming and crying at the same time she swallowed the stringy flesh, and she knew that the dragon would get here before she finished. There was no way to outrun it. Nina wanted to, but Dream Nina didn’t. Dream Nina had an insatiable blood lust and enough rage to move mountains.
She could hear the ceiling shaking as the dragon got closer, and her body was vibrating with fear. She was in the middle of the heart, consuming as much of it as she could before she faced the beast. Dream Nina felt wild and unstoppable as she pulled back from the heart, gasping, eyes probing the darkness for the arrival of her challenger. Any minute now, it would come and send a torrent of fire straight at her, and when it did, she’d be ready.
You won’t, she thought desperately.
She would. Dream Nina knew she would.
Dream Nina stood and tensed her muscles, standing in a fighting position as the beast got closer. She could see a ghostly outline in the mugginess ahead of the throne, and the shape of a head the size of a school bus. She bounced on her feet like a boxer in a ring.
Come on, run!
Before the dragon emerged into the light, it sent a jet of fire at her, the column of flame twisting in midair and exploding outward to singe the atmosphere around her. Before it hit her, it sapped the air from her lungs, and she had a moment of panic before the searing pain consumed her senses. She couldn’t see, but she could hear Dream Nina laughing. Or was she screaming?
I am screaming.
Nina sat up straight in her bed, covered in sweat and shaking like a leaf in the wind. She clapped her hand over her mouth and looked toward her door, wondering if she’d woken Rachel. There was no noise from her room, only the soft tick of the grandfather clock outside her door and the low hum of her humidifier.
Holy shit. I felt it burn me that time. That’s never happened.
Nina got up and changed her sweat-soaked sheets, feeling like a bedwetter. The dream should be less terrifying by now, after months of having it, but it never lost its punch. Should I have told Joey?
No, she answered herself immediately. You freak out about every little dragon-related thing. This isn’t important. Just pre-ceremony nerves, and the realization that you’re reaching the end of an era. You’re about to become a real dragon. Don’t make them doubt you.
Nina tried to console herself as she got back in bed, but her mind wouldn’t settle down. She found herself wishing that she had woken Rachel up.
As she finally drifted back to sleep, she changed her mind. She wished her parents were still alive—then she wouldn’t need to bother Rachel in the first place.
CHAPTER TWO
It never occurred to her how invasive dust could be. Nina spent two hours cleaning every inch of the apartment before the Reader was due, scrubbing so voraciously that she was covered in sweat about an hour before he was due to arrive. Rachel shot her an inquisitive look as she headed to the shower for the second time that day, but stopped just short of making any sort of comment; Nina assumed she could see how tense she was. Teasing was going to be counterproductive.
Joey had given her a pamphlet full of information about the Reading process. The pamphlet was now stiff and faded from absorbing the oil on her hands and being baked by the sun as it sat on the passenger side of Nina’s car in between re-reads. She could probably recite each section backwards by now, but she compulsively leafed through it again as she paced around in her sweats, waiting for her hair to dry.
Reading is painless; your Reader will explain the process as it is performed for your benefit. A single drop of blood is all that is needed. Please avoid wearing any opal or agate during your Reading. Your Reading will include a prophecy that was crafted at your birth, which will guide as you enter the folds of Dragon Society and choose how involved you are in the Greater Horde, and which areas you may choose to focus on.
The prophecy, she was told repeatedly, would be far less exciting than it sounded. It was really more of a profile of your strengths and weaknesses, as well as an idea of how powerful you would become after your ceremony. Joey’s prophecy had told him that his compassion and patience were his strongest virtues, and that he’d be able to head his own horde one day after strengthening his skills in leadership.
“That’s why I became a teacher,” he’d explained to them all. “It was the best way to put my strongest skills to use. My mother was told that her nature was in healing, so she became a nurse and eventually was stationed at one of our council-sponsored hospitals. The council has all sorts of businesses and facilities for dragons that fly under the human’s radar, so you can feel safe in the knowledge that whatever you want to do, we can find a place for you.”
What kind of a place would they have for a short-tempered loner?
The Greater Horde had to be better than being alone. Like its name suggested, the Greater Horde was all of dragonkind, linked by ceremony through the giant rose quartz at the Council’s headquarters. Nina used to laugh at how spooky the term sounded, but as she got older she realized that it would likely be the only thing that would rescue her from how detached and alienated she felt from dragon culture. Other kids got to go to boarding schools with other dragons, or summer camps, and even festivals in addition to regular gatherings with their local hordes. Nina didn’t experience being around other dragons for an extended period of time until the year before, partially because she’d failed to make any dragon friends in the neighborhood as a child. The Greater Horde was her last hope, and if she was lucky, she’d even get to immerse herself in dragon culture by working within the High Horde, which was effectively the government for the Greater Horde.
The portable doorbell on the front door sounded, and Nina’s heart leaped to her throat. Pulling he
r damp hair into a ponytail, she plastered what she hoped was a calm smile on her face and opened the door.
“Hello. Are you Eli?”
The man facing her smiled faintly and nodded as he pulled out a laminated badge. “Eli Nelson, Gold Level Reader, for Nina Henry.” He had a faint accent that hinted of a posh upbringing somewhere in England. His photo ID showed him wearing the same slate gray button-down and rectangular-framed glasses as he was wearing that day, though his caramel colored hair was longer than pictured, curling softly just above his collarbone. “Are any humans present? Any non-dragons?”
“No,” she said, stepping back to let him in.
He was only a few inches taller than her, but his energy was imposing, commanding. He took a brief look around the living room before turning back to her.
“Where should we sit?”
“The couch is fine,” Nina said, and her voice sounded far away to her own ears.
She felt like she was hovering just above her own body, watching the two of them move over to the shabby leather sofa. I should have found some throw pillows or something to class this place up.
Eli was smiling graciously, apparently unbothered by the Spartan decor. “How are you?”
“Fine,” she answered as her stomach tried to twist itself into a knot.
“It’s not going to affect your reading if you’re nervous,” he assured her. Eli’s dark green eyes were friendly, but his tone was a little rehearsed, somewhat detached.
“I’m going to set up the reading platform, and then I’ll start.”
He pulled out a small golden disk about the size of his palm and a slim silver dagger, placing them both on the coffee table before finally producing a quarter-sized chunk of rose quartz. Nina tried to be interested in the arrangement, but her panic was doing strange things to her concentration. She watched as he placed the rose quartz on top of the golden disc, then studied the deep cleft in his chin for a few moments. His teeth were so white. How does he keep them so white? Her gaze bounced to his hands, and suddenly she was wondering how strong he was.
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