by Trudi Jaye
“Why are you sticking around, Amos?” I ask. “I mean, it’s not your fight, is it?”
He glances at me, his face turning serious. “It’s because of you, Mei.” He hesitates. “It’s going to sound dumb, but it’s like there’s a light that shines from your eyes. It makes me want to follow you to the ends of the Earth.” His voice is soft but intense. He means everything he’s saying.
I clear my throat. It suddenly feels ten degrees hotter in the van. “We can never be more than friends, you understand that?” I say carefully.
“If this about my father—”
I shake my head. “My life is complicated. I don’t have room for anyone else.”
“You’re not even giving us a chance.” Amos’s voice is tight with suppressed emotion.
“Maybe if we’d met in a different time and place,” I say, trying to let him down gently. I see immediately that it’s a mistake. His face lights up again.
“So when this is all over, we can be together?”
My lips harden into a thin line. Anger boils below the surface. “When do you think it’s ever going to be over for me?” I say, the words whipping out of my mouth. “Your father is going to hunt me for the rest of my life, do you understand that? One day he might even succeed in capturing me again, and then he’s going to torture me on the pretext of proving I’m a dragon.” The words just spill out, but I can’t help myself, he’s just so naïve. “Do you know the worst thing? It’s that he’s going to realize he was wrong—as soon as I’m dead.”
“I don’t… He’s not…” Amos can’t find the words to defend his father.
“Let’s not talk about it anymore, okay? I’m tired. Wake me for my driving shift in an hour.” I curl up against the window and pretend to sleep. In reality I stare out into the dark night and watch the street lights whip past the window.
Amos keeps driving, heading out of the city and onto the highway. The van is still running smoothly, despite the miles we’ve been clocking up. Neither of us speaks for a long time, both caught up in our own thoughts. I’m trying to remember everything about Quincy that I can. I’ve stayed there a total of three times, but it’s one of the places we were ambushed by the Earthbound.
In spectacular style.
As in they took out half the town, over one hundred humans died, and the SIG had to make up a fake explosion at a local factory and cast a massive amnesia spell to account for it to the humans.
It’s also where Lee was killed.
I’m not planning on going anywhere near where it happened. I’m more interested in figuring out where Jeff would have hidden the information I’m now convinced he’s left there. I need to find out what’s real and what’s not about this whole situation. If I’m not the dragon, then who is? How did they convince the Earthbound that I was the baby they were looking for? My whole life makes no sense. I need some answers, and I’m convinced Jeff has left them for me in Quincy.
Minutes slide into hours as the darkness drifts past my window. We pull over to switch drivers. Amos goes to the toilet and grabs something to eat at an all night Seven Eleven, while I wait impatiently in the car. “I’ll drive until we’re just outside of Quincy,” I say. “I think I need to be on guard once we get there.”
Amos nods, and a while later when I see the outskirts of Quincy through the lightening sky, I slow the van to a stop at the side of the road. So soon. I shudder.
Amos gets into the driver’s seat, but doesn’t drive off. “Where to?” he asks staring out the windscreen at the small town in front of us. He taps his forefinger on the steering wheel nervously. I understand why he’s anxious. I’m leading him into what could be an extremely dangerous situation. I have butterflies in my stomach too.
“We should head to Bicentennial Park, by the river,” I say. I’m not entirely sure why I say it, because where I need to go is West Quincy. I’ve figured out where Jeff would have left information for me. But I’ve been taught too well by my mentor. Never reveal yourself too soon, he would say, it’ll just come back to bite you on the arse. I’m sure I can trust Amos; I just need him to prove it to me.
When we arrive at the park, I climb out of the van and stand at the edge of the grass. It’s starting to spit tiny drops of rain, more like a mist really. The sun is emerging from the east, casting a glowing morning light over the water of the Mississippi River and the bridges on either side of the park. I walk to the gazebo and turn my face to the sun. As it comes up over the edge of the landscape, a rainbow appears, drawn by the perfect mix of light rain and early morning sun. I take a deep breath, trying to memorize the feeling, to link it to a time years ago when I lived here.
I need a moment of peace, and this place always gave that to me. Lee and I used to run along the edges of the river on clear early mornings just like this one. We would chat about everything, from the latest current events to our favorite television programs. I can almost hear him laughing as I tell a funny story. The memory is so strong I don’t immediately notice the SUV pulling up, or hear the helicopter in the sky above us.
“I’m sorry, Mei. This is just too important,” Amos says behind me.
I blink, turning toward him. “What?”
He’s holding a handgun pointed at me and looks above us to where a helicopter is circling in the rain. “I’ll make sure my father takes better care of you this time. He won’t hurt you like he did before.”
It takes me a few seconds to comprehend what he’s done. I glance at the SUV, the helicopter, and then back at Amos. The rain is getting heavier, making puddles in the concrete paths around the gazebo. “But you helped me escape,” I whisper, taking a step toward him and holding one hand out.
Something flashes in his eyes, gone too fast for me to decipher. “I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought you were…different.”
A terrible feeling swirls inside my stomach. “Is this because of our conversation last night?” I ask, my hands tightening into fists.
Amos takes a small step back. “Of course not. I just…” He looks away, his face flushed. “I just talked to my father, and he made me see sense.”
I can’t believe he’s done this. “I can’t go back there, Amos,” I whisper. His gun wavers, and Amos points it to the ground.
I let out a breath. “You know what he did to me,” I add. Just a little closer and I’ll be able to get the gun.
“This is bigger than you or me,” he says, and pushes his other hand through his unruly hair. “This is about the survival of the whole world.” I can almost hear his father saying the words to him.
Tears well in my eyes. “I’m not a dragon, Amos.”
At my words, he jerks the gun up to point at my chest again. “My father told me what happened in the furnace. He said the temperatures were up to two hundred degrees Fahrenheit, and you didn’t even blink. That the stones you pulled up from the floor of the furnace were even hotter, and you pulled them up with your bare hands. No one can do that.” Rain on the roof of the gazebo provides a dramatic backdrop for his words.
A panicky feeling rises inside me. I shake my head. “That’s not true, Amos. Your father is just telling you that so he can force me to go back there. He’s wrong.”
“My father is many things, but he’s not a liar. He sees no point.”
“The way he sees the world isn’t the way it is,” I say desperately. The helicopter is landing in the open space next to the gazebo, and I acknowledge that it’s my own fault for bringing Amos here.
“I thought I could trust you,” I whisper. I should have known that there’s no one I can trust but myself. Not any more.
Amos winces, but says nothing. There’s nothing he can say.
On the heels of acceptance comes anger. Who does he think he is? Why do the Earthbound insist on following me around, treating me like a commodity they need to acquire? Even Amos, who believes he has feelings for me, doesn’t see that it’s wrong. “This isn’t what’s best for everyone,” I say, still trying to make him
see reason. Or at least my point of view.
“My father is a great man. He’s doing what is best for the world, for all of us.” His eyes are glowing golden in the early morning light. “Not everyone has to strength of will to actually do that.” Amos believes what he’s saying, and that makes me really, really mad.
“You’ll have to tie me down somewhere deep inside your fortress if you think you’re going to keep me there,” I say, my voice sneering at him. “I will never help your father.” The thought of chains around my wrists and ankles makes me tremble. Sweat runs in thick rivulets down my body. I’ll be at their mercy again. My whole being rebels against the idea. Anger rolls off me in waves, and sparks hiss inside me. A burning rage pushes itself up from my center and I struggle to keep the heat under control. Thunder rumbles somewhere nearby.
I need to be cool and calm if I’m going to get out of this. I know that with every fiber of my being. Si instilled that in me from the very first moment I started learning the Protectors’ fighting style. Cool and calm will win every fight. But the heat is too much and it rises uncontrollably up my body, until I feel like I’m on fire. I’m hotter than I ever felt inside Vincent’s damned furnace.
The helicopter lands on the grass near the gazebo. I’m frozen like a rabbit in the headlights, unable to save myself. I’m sure there is something I could do, but my brain won’t help me. I’m going to be taken by the Earthbound. Kept like a pet, routinely tested on. Perhaps they’ll eventually figure out I’m not a dragon, but I doubt it; at least not before they kill me.
I fling my arm out toward the helicopter, toward the enemy, as if I can push them away. Lightning flashes in the sky above me, and a jagged line of electrical light hits my body. Sparks explode around the gazebo. Instead of burning me up, the lightning escapes along my arm, travelling across the park and slamming into the helicopter in a burst of fiery energy. It explodes in a giant ball of flames, pieces of metal flying into the air. Whoever is in the helicopter is now ashes.
Some of the debris hits the SUV, breaking the windscreen and denting the doors. Two men dive out of the vehicle and run from the flames.
I watch the seething mass of fire for a second, too stunned to move. Then pain rises up through my chest, the same unstoppable clawing agony from the other night, and I crumple to the ground, putting my hands to my head, trying to stop whatever is attacking me from the inside. My skin and bone are being torn apart and I can’t stop it. I hear someone screaming, and then realize it’s me. The pain doesn’t stop and I can’t think past it.
Hands grab my arms, and I shake them off. I’ll never go with them. I’d rather die.
“Mei, it’s Seth. Don’t fight me.”
It takes a few moments before I understand the words. “I... the pain...” is all I can manage to mumble.
“Is it like the other night?” he asks.
I nod.
“We have to get to the water. I knocked out Amos, but the police will turn up soon. We can’t explain a blown-up helicopter.”
I nod again. “Let’s go,” I whisper, barely able to put the two words together.
Seth has to drag me to the boat ramp beside the gazebo through the pouring rain. There’s a heavy slanting wall of water beating down on us from the heavens now. I can hardly see where we’re going, but we cross the park and into the water almost before I realize it.
I stumble into the river and the water surrounds my body, allowing its energy to mingle with mine. The pain dies off, and I’m able to focus on what’s happening for the first time since Amos pulled the gun on me. Seth pulls me along in the water, and after a while, I start to use my arms and legs to help him. The water is flowing swiftly, the rain making the currents stronger than usual. Soon enough, my strength returns, and I pull away, able to swim for myself. Seth grabs onto an overhanging branch under the bridge and waits for me, treading water. I grasp his arm as I move by and swing into the side of the river next to him.
“How did you find us?” I ask, holding the branch to one side of him.
“I knew where you were going.” Seth shrugs. His eyes are dark and unreadable in the shadows of the bridge. “And I put a locator beacon on the van, just in case.”
“Where did you get—” I start to ask. But then I think about Jeff and what he would have done. “You had them on you the whole time?” I ask.
Seth nods.
Jeff always carried useful items, including locator beacons, sewn into his clothing. Supernatural technology had made them small enough to carry and potent enough to use. This is the first time it occurs to me that it might be SIG policy, rather than Jeff’s paranoia.
But it doesn’t really matter how he found me. “Thank you,” I say, and grab him in a tight waterlogged hug. Just that he did.
After a moment’s hesitation, he puts his arm around me and hugs me back.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
We swim in the shallows, trying to keep out of the deep, swift current of the Mississippi River. The rain helps to cover our tracks and keep us hidden. I follow Seth, and after a while, once we’re a decent distance down the river, I drag myself up the bank after him. He leans down and pulls me up the rest of the way and we stumble along the backstreets to where Seth parked the car he stole from the motel. He’s as paranoid as I am.
Except I wasn’t paranoid enough.
I don’t say anything until we’re in the car and Seth is looking at me expectantly. “Where to?” he asks.
I look into his hazel eyes and hesitate. He’s as steady as Si or Jeff. He’s been with me through thick and thin; been shot, kidnapped, and hit over the head, and he’s never once deserted me. Fear curls in my stomach. I thought I could trust Amos, too.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I know in my gut that Seth can be trusted. I never felt that way with Amos. “It’s at the pawnshop in West Quincy,” I whisper. Without a word, he turns the ignition, puts the car in gear, and we head off.
I don’t know how he knows his way around Quincy. I suspect I don’t want to know, especially if it’s got anything to do with me. We cross the bridge, and I stare through the rain down at the Mississippi River below us, my clothes still wet from its sluggish brown waters. The water surges past, the storm making its murky depths run faster than usual. I glance back at the smoking remains of the helicopter. At least the rain has stopped the fire from spreading. I can just see the outlines of police cars and fire engines there now, with men in uniforms circling the area. A figure that looks like Amos is being questioned by police inside the gazebo. His shoulders are slumped and he keeps glancing into the sky as if expecting another helicopter.
Ahead of us—across the other side of the bridge—is West Quincy, a whole other state and a whole other problem. I’m sure Jeff meant me to do this, but I’m not sure why, and I’m scared. I can acknowledge that to myself as I sit huddled in the passenger seat next to Seth. The pawnshop is a place I’ve only visited once before with Jeff. I didn’t get it at the time, and I’m not sure I get it now. I was just before Lee was killed, and Jeff pawned a locked wooden box with strange patterns and metal corners and locks.
I don’t know if it will still be there. In fact, logic states that it won’t be. But I have this feeling I’m going to find it hidden away in the backroom somewhere, just waiting for me.
My hands tremble at the thought of touching something that Jeff had put together so long ago. What if there’s a note from him in there? It will be like he’s come back from the grave. I don’t know if I can handle that. I let out a breath. The truth is, I have no idea what’s in there, and I can’t worry about it. In about five minutes’ time, I’ll have all the answers to my questions. Who am I? Who is the real dragon? Am I really a decoy?
I glance back at the smoking helicopter, then down at my hands. If I’m a dragon, I will eat my hat. But something is going on that I need to understand. I’ve been kept in the dark far too long. My twentieth birthday is fast approaching.
Seth parks in front of the We
st Quincy Pawnshop. It’s just a small shop in a bigger white wooden building with a corrugated iron roof. There’s a green awning over the green front door.
We run out into the rain again, and I push open the door, peering into the darkened interior. Seth follows me and we both take it in slowly. There’s stuff everywhere. Shelves and shelves of stuff, musical instruments, pictures, bikes, lamps, glass cases with jewelry, drawers with who knows what inside them, guns at the back behind a locked cabinet door. There’s even a motorbike in the back corner.
“What are we looking for?” Seth asks.
“A patterned wooden box, about this big.” I hold my hands out, trying to indicate the foot-long box with my hands.
He nods and heads off, digging in and around the back of the store. I wander around, trying to remember if this is what it was like when I was younger. I don’t think so. It seems more organized now, more clinical. More professional probably. I try to let my instincts guide me, but all I can think about is how my damp pants are rubbing against the inside of my legs. I spot some clothes in the corner, and resolve to buy something new to wear. I head over and am holding up a pair of jeans when a man appears beside me. I jump and step back. He’s old and stooped, with a lined face and mismatched clothes.
“Can I help you, ma’am?” he says, his pale blue eyes boring into me. He’s covered by the spell web, and is looking at me like he knows me.
“Uh... I thought... I want to try this on.” I look around for Seth, but he’s at the other end of the store.
Blue eyes flash. “Are you sure that’s all?”
“A box,” I blurt. “I’m looking for a wooden box.”
He nods, and his eyes glow for a second. “That’s what I thought. As soon as I saw you, I knew you were here for the box.”
“You have it?” I say, hardly able to believe my luck.
“I do. It’s out the back, where we keep all our... special... items.”
