Jennifer Scales and the Messenger of Light

by MaryJanice Davidson

  Sanctuary

  “He flew away,” Elizabeth told her daughter, plainly furious at her as the three Scales sat around the kitchen table. Jonathan was trying to cool them down with iced tea, but it had no apparent effect on his wife. “I don’t know why he didn’t chase you down. Quite frankly, I find the idea of beating some sense into you quite appealing right now.”

  “Wendy Blacktooth needed you!” Jennifer protested. “And it worked, didn’t it?”

  Her mother made an indescribable sound—something teetering between disgust, relief, and surrender. Fortunately, she then changed the subject to Wendy’s injuries.

  The medics had arrived for Wendy Blacktooth almost immediately after Jennifer returned from reviving Susan and taking her home. Wendy had been unconscious but alive, her prospects for survival decent. Eddie and Hank had gone with her in the ambulance—after Hank retrieved his precious Blacktooth blade, of course.

  “I’d like to cram that family heirloom of theirs right up his butt,” her mother reported in clipped tones when Jennifer asked about it. She turned on her husband. “If you ever put a stinking piece of metal above my own welfare, Jonathan Daniel Scales, I will skin you, wings and all!”

  “Noted,” her prey responded dryly. He put the iced tea back in the refrigerator. “Jennifer, how was Susan? Did she say anything when you walked her home?”

  “Not much.” In fact, Susan had said nothing at all after her ordeal, not even good-bye at the door. Jennifer tried to believe that allowing the block-long escort was at least a hopeful signal, but the blank look on Susan’s face had been less encouraging.

  I should have told her everything long ago.

  “You should call Skip. If Evangelos was attacking Susan, Skip may be next.”

  As if on cue, there was a knock at the door and Skip poked his head in.

  He hadn’t heard anything about the attack, but after Jennifer and her parents filled him in, he shook his head sadly.

  “That increases the chances that Rune Whisper is Evangelos.”

  “What do you mean?” Jonathan asked.

  “Well, I decided to follow Rune again today, and—”

  “You what?” Jennifer couldn’t tell if Elizabeth’s harsh tone meant she was still upset at Jennifer or newly irritated at Skip. “Without us?”

  “Yeah.” Skip stuck his chin out a bit as he plopped his iced tea down. “Without you. I’m a big boy, Mrs. Georges-Scales.”

  “That’s Doctor Georges-Scales, and you’re not as big as…”

  “What did you find out?” asked Jennifer hurriedly. “Where did Rune go?”

  The boy gritted his teeth, but turned. “Well, that’s just it—Rune wasn’t there.”

  Jennifer mulled that over. “Well, that makes sense if Rune is Evangelos. Because he was here with us, instead of somewhere else with you.”

  “That’s possible,” Skip admitted. “But then again, it’s still possible he’s just on the trail of the real Evangelos. So I went to the places Rune went last time, and looked around. Checked employment records, watched folks, that sort of thing…”

  “You checked the employment records at the hospital?” Jennifer saw her mother’s face turn from irritation to alarm. “That’s illegal.”

  Skip looked at her with a small smile. “It’s not the first time I’ve broken the law, Mrs. Georges-Scales.”

  Why is he provoking her? Jennifer wondered, holding her mother’s hand and squeezing. The answer came right away: Because he likes it. He likes bucking authority. He’s liked it since the day you met him. That’s what gave him the courage to stand between you and his own father.

  Jonathan intervened smoothly. “Skip, did you learn anything new?”

  “Well, the most recent employee at the hospital is, get this, Martin Stowe. Custodial work. I guess he can still do that much, even with his bad eyesight. And I also saw Angus Cheron—”

  “Yes, wonderful research,” Elizabeth interrupted, sarcastically. “People who are new in town are apparently the most recent hires at local employers. A true investigative breakthrough. And if you saw them, we’ll grant you they couldn’t be Evangelos. But as my husband asked you, do you have anything new?”

  Skip pushed his chair back. “You know, I’m not your trained monkey! I don’t have to tell you anything!”

  Jonathan rose enough to rest a reassuring hand on Skip’s shoulder. “We’re glad you’re here. Aren’t we, honey?” This got a noncommittal grunt. “And we’re all working for the same goal.”

  “I’m not so sure of that,” Skip snapped. “After all, if he’s trying to kill you, you’re probably trying to kill him. Are you sure you guys are completely blameless, here?”

  “What are you suggesting?” Jennifer snapped. “That we’re murderers like him?”

  He bit his lip as he looked at her. “Well, people do have a habit of dying around you…”

  Jennifer felt like he had taken a hot poker to her lungs. She opened her mouth and found no words to say.

  Even though she saw his face change at the sight of hers, she didn’t want to give him a chance to apologize. She kicked her chair away, ran out of the kitchen, and made sure she slammed the door to her bedroom so everyone downstairs could hear it. She set about her charcoal sketches immediately.

  Ten minutes later, her father knocked on the door.

  “Is he gone?”

  The door cracked open. “No. He says to tell you he’s sorry. He didn’t mean to remind you of Grandpa Crawford like that.” There was a pause. “He sounded pretty sincere.”

  “Why isn’t he up here?”

  Another pause as he reviewed her artwork. “I didn’t want you to kill him.”

  This got the corner of her mouth twitching. “Huh. No, I’d be satisfied if he just left.”

  “He’s not leaving. We are.”

  “Why?”

  “Crescent moon’s coming. Seems like a good time to get out of here. I’d been thinking of doing this anyway, but after today I’m sure.”

  “What?”

  “We’re going to go to Crescent Valley,” he announced briskly. “You and me. Plainly, there are too many beaststalkers who are likely to ignore the mayor, like the Blacktooths did. That makes things doubly dangerous for us. We need time to think, in a safe place. And I’m going to ask the Blaze for permission to bring your mother with us. Skip, too, since Evangelos may be attacking your friends.”

  Who cares about Skip, she thought bitterly. Okay, I do. Her thoughts turned briefly to Susan, but she realized what her parents had probably already figured out: Here in Winoka Susan had more certainty of beaststalker protection than Skip did.

  “And Skip’s staying here with Mom while we go?”

  He nodded, with the faintest of smiles. “Your mother insisted. For his protection, until we return. He looks pretty miserable about the idea, but he feels so bad about what he just said to you, he couldn’t refuse.”

  She let a small, satisfied smile escape. “Let’s go.”

  Despite her nervousness about what they were here to do, Jennifer found herself relaxing again the next morning when she broke the surface of the dark lake near Crescent Valley. Geddy the gecko was on her nose horn, braving the underwater voyage with unnatural aplomb. His head perked up at the sound of fire hornets in the distance, and he turned just in time to see the belt of fire surround the eternal crescent moon.

  Looking at his expressionless, reptilian face, Jennifer couldn’t help but wonder if he knew more about the venerables and what else was up there than she did.

  “I sent word ahead of us,” Jonathan told her as they broke free from the water’s surface and spread their wings against the starlit sky. “The Blaze should be assembled by the time we arrive.”

  This much was true. Even from miles away, Jennifer could spot five or six large silhouettes floating just below the tip of the crescent moon. Like dark albatrosses, they simply let the gentle wind carry them where it would. Upon Jennifer and her father’s approach,
however, they began to turn over and dump the wind from their wings, descending in rapid circles to a point she quickly recognized: the dragons’ amphitheater.

  It was full, as it had been last time. Jennifer spotted Winona Brandfire without much trouble, and was surprised to see Catherine sitting right next to her grandmother. A few rows away, the prickly dasher Xavier Longtail sat restlessly on his haunches. He watched Jennifer as she eased herself to the ground next to her father.

  Winona Brandfire wasted no time; Jennifer didn’t even get a chance to sit down. “Jonathan Scales. You have summoned this Blaze.” Her tone was sharp and inquisitive enough for Jennifer to hear the implied question: Why?

  “I have, Eldest. Thank you. I am here to make a simple request: My wife requires sanctuary from clear danger. I need approval for her entry to this refuge, so that she can remain safe while we reconsider our strategy for hunting Evangelos.”

  He had not even finished speaking before several weredragons began mumbling and growling. Xavier was the loudest among them. Jennifer couldn’t hear every word he said, but “preposterous” and “never” were easy to catch.

  Winona held up a wing claw for silence. As she had before, Jennifer spotted a small, mysterious gleam on one scaly finger. “Elder Scales, you know our law. Not even weredragons before their fiftieth morph are allowed to know where this refuge is, much less come here.” Jennifer caught the sideways glance to her granddaughter. “Why should we allow a beaststalker?”

  “Because she’s my wife, and I love her.”

  Jennifer, along with the rest of the dragons assembled, waited a few moments for more. But Jonathan offered nothing else.

  Xavier rose and flicked his indigo tail irritably. His voice was loud, but the anger appeared just under control. “We are not responsible for your life decisions, Elder Scales. Had you married a weredragon, even one who hadn’t reached her fiftieth morph, your request might be reasonable. But you cannot seriously expect us to allow one of our most dangerous enemies into our last and most sacred refuge!”

  “I do,” Jonathan replied calmly. “And she is not your enemy, Xavier Longtail. No matter how many times you say it, it will never be true.”

  “And no matter how many times you argue it, I will never believe you,” the dasher snapped. “Do I need to remind everyone that Elizabeth Georges-Scales is descended from Saint George of England, the most bloodthirsty enemy our kind has ever known? That her grandparents and parents were among those who assaulted Pinegrove, drove out our kind, and settled there as if the land had been theirs all along? That she herself is responsible for the murder of three dragons, all of whom have family here tonight?”

  “Only one of those was her choice!” Jonathan barked. He did not look at Jennifer, who was plainly wondering how much Xavier said was true. She had never heard her mother speak of killing dragons. More secrets? With great effort, she quelled the feelings of dismay and irritation and tried to focus on what her father was saying.

  “Beaststalkers do not corner the market on unprovoked attacks. What Elizabeth did in her own defense, any of us would do.”

  “I doubt she shed a tear when my brother died at her hand,” Xavier hissed back.

  Jennifer’s eyes widened. Aha! There it is.

  Jonathan sighed. “I am now, as I have always been, sorry for your loss. And I will not defend the beaststalker’s bloody rite of passage, which has caused our people pain for thousands of years. But from the day Elizabeth slew your brother, you and she have each had a choice to make. Since that day, she has never raised her sword with the desire to kill a dragon. Since that day, she has sworn an oath to do no harm—and has healed thousands of people, including hundreds of our friends and kin. Since that day, she has raised a weredragon as a child, and would sooner die herself than see the Ancient Furnace come to harm.

  “Since that day, Xavier Longtail, what choices have you made? How many beaststalkers have you attacked and killed? How many have you healed or saved? How many have you even gotten to know?”

  In the wake of these questions, a loud ripple of approval and acceptance rushed through the gathering. But Xavier was unmoved.

  “I do not need to get to know them, Elder Scales. There is no point to knowing them. They are separate. They are the enemy.”

  “There is a point if we are to learn to live with them peacefully, someday.”

  The dasher’s elaborate tail struck the ground with enough force to jolt the entire amphitheater. “No! We will not live with them peacefully! Not today! Not tomorrow! Not ever! That is our law.”

  Winona Brandfire’s strong voice interrupted the two dragons. “Where is such a law written?”

  Smoke curled around Xavier’s crusted yellow eyes; he never took them off Jonathan. “It is written on my brother’s grave.”

  Dasher and creeper stared at each other for long enough to make Jennifer fairly certain one would go for the other’s throat. But her father suddenly broke eye contact and turned to the rest of the Blaze, Winona Brandfire in particular. “You all knew my father, the Venerable Crawford Thomas Scales.” A murmur swept through the gathering. She guessed her father used the title “venerable” purposefully. Whatever it meant, it drew respect here.

  “He taught me something long ago. Whenever I’d get worked up about something bad that had just happened, he’d sit me down, work a wing over my back, and tell me: ‘Jonathan, if dragons were meant to fly backward, they’d have eyes in their tails.’ He insisted this was a common saying among dragons, though I’ve never really heard anyone else say it.”

  This provoked some chuckles. Jennifer sensed the mood shifting toward her father, and felt a surge of confidence. If they say yes to Mom, they’ll also say yes to Skip!

  Jonathan continued after a short pause. “Of course, what he meant was, we’re built to look forward and move forward. We cannot stay fixed on the past. We must look for opportunities to reach out to those who can help us heal. My wife is a healer. And she needs our help. I hope we can look forward far enough to help her.”

  “Forward, not backward,” a creeper Jennifer didn’t know spoke up. “Something to try for once!”

  Yes! They’re going to agree!

  “And then,” Xavier puffed sardonically, “we should try turning our back on other traditions, such as honor, nobility, and—”

  Blah-blah. Hate, hate, hate. Whatever—Hey, where’s Geddy?

  The small gecko was no longer near Jennifer; she’d been so caught up in what was going on she hadn’t noticed him slip away. She tried to look around subtly without looking frantic. Argh! Of all the times to lose track of him! Geddy!

  “—loyalty to family and friends! Or…eh?” Xavier’s rant stopped suddenly as he looked down to see something on a scaly toe. “I only bring these up—Huh.” The dragon seemed totally distracted from his tirade, and Jennifer had a horrible thought.

  Don’t squash him!

  Xavier reached down and held Geddy up in one enormous clawed hand. His expression was sincere and thoughtful. “Did someone lose a friend?”

  “It’s—uh—it’s mine, Elder Longtail.” Jennifer darted forward and practically snatched Geddy out of the elder’s claws.

  “That gecko’s yours, eh?” He curled his lips and wrinkled his wings, but his tone showed measured respect.

  “Yes,” she said, thumbing the scaly skull of her pet.

  A short silence greeted the admission.

  “You were saying, Elder?” Winona prompted gently.

  “Yes. Thank you, Eldest. I’ve…” He trailed off and stared at the gecko again, and the girl who held it. “I believe I’ve made my point. I urge unity in this matter.”

  “I’ve met Dr. Georges-Scales,” said the creeper who had spoken earlier. “I was in a car accident not far from Winona. Hers was the closest hospital. I could’ve sworn she saw right through me—knew exactly what I was, though I hadn’t a clue who she was at the time. But she fixed me up right.”

  “I know Jonathan Scales,�
� offered Ned, the ripened trampler. Jennifer smiled at him as he stood up straight. “Good man. Good choices. I trust him. I say we let ’er in.”

  There were more voices, more testimonials. Alex Rosespan, still loyal to Jennifer after tutoring her last year. Joseph Skinner, who had taken a break from watching over the farm to come weigh in—favorably, she was relieved to hear.

  “Are there no other dissenting opinions?” Winona asked after a time. “Has the Blaze come to a decision?”

  Xavier sighed. “We will regret this day.”

  “We may,” Jonathan replied softly. “But I doubt it.”

  “We are decided, then,” Winona announced. “Dr. Elizabeth Georges-Scales may immediately find refuge here in Crescent Valley, for a period of two weeks. She must be accompanied by her husband at all times. After two weeks, we will reconvene to determine if further time is warranted.”

  “Thank you!” Jennifer couldn’t help the outburst; she was jumping up and down. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

  “And…” Jonathan took a deep breath. “We must make one more request, if you are willing.”

  Piece of pie, Jennifer thought in an optimistic thrill. Mom’s a grownup warrior, but Skip’s just a kid. We’re trying to protect a minor! He’s a shoo-in.

  The wind was whistling past them pretty loudly, but Jennifer could still make out the profanity Jonathan unleashed once they were a safe distance away.

  “I guess we pushed our luck,” she comforted him, feeling rotten herself. “And hey, they did let Mom in! You know, conditionally.”

  “Hmmph.”

  “It’s the best we can do for now.” She had an odd thought: Who was the child here? And who was the grownup? Had he really thought they’d get a “yes” to both? Had she really thought that?

  “Maybe we can sneak him in later.”

  She nearly fell out of the air. “Sneak him in?! How’s that going to work?”

  “No idea. We’ll figure out what to do once we’re all together. Skip can decide for himself what he’d like to do, at least.”

  “I guess. So we go home now?”