Dragon Feared

by Kit Bladegrave

  “Well, when my uncle told me about the First Communion, he gave me this.” I held the necklace in question up for Professor Fredwin to see.

  His red eyes widened, and I heard a few gasps from the back of the room.

  “What?” I questioned.

  “Everest, where did you get that?” he asked me, slowly walking closer as the others in the room leaned in closer, a few getting out of their seats to see it.

  “My uncle,” I replied, uncertain. “Why?”

  “Who is your uncle?” Amelie asked, staring at me like this was the first time she was seeing me.

  “Edgar Somerset. What’s going on? I thought it was just an antique.”

  “Wait, are you Mahlia Somerset’s daughter?” Alana piped up from the back room, and a look of annoyance and awe passed over her face.

  I glanced back to tell her to mind her own damned business, but I saw that half the class had gotten out of their seats now, and were staring at me more than the necklace, and it jolted me a bit.

  “What’s it to you?” I pulled my necklace in closer. “How do you know my mom’s name? And why does it matter who she was? What does this necklace even mean?”

  “Everest,” Amelie said, “your mom is a direct Descendant of the First Communion. That’s her necklace you’re wearing. You’re a First Communion Descendant.”

  I swallowed a few times as I stared at the necklace, flashes of my dreams coming back to me now and starting to make sense.

  “Oh,” I managed to whisper, “is that all?”

  I went from being the mortal-raised freak to a Descendant.

  This day was just getting better and better.

  And it wasn’t even lunch yet.

  Three

  Everest

  Jared snagged me away from a bothersome crowd during lunch, and I made sure to thank him profusely, leaving behind a curious crowd of onlookers. Suddenly, I wasn’t just the weird mortal-raised girl in the school; I was this Descendant, whatever the hell that was even supposed to mean.

  Everyone in the school was talking about me, and wanting to be my best buddy. It was annoying—especially with the way Alana was attempting to make nice, like she hadn’t looked down her nose at me only a few moments before. I certainly didn’t care for it. We walked down a hallway together, but I could tell by the intent look on his face, he was taking me somewhere special, not just an escape.

  “Where are we going?” I finally asked when we circled back through the main lobby and turned down another corridor I couldn’t remember what it held.

  “Look,” he said, pointing and finally pulled me to a gentle stop. “I’m surprised you didn’t catch it when I gave you a tour.”

  I wasn’t sure what he was talking about until I finally turned my gaze to see several portraits behind the glass and one of them was of my mom.

  She was younger, and she looked happy with that sly smile on her face. I stepped closer, basically pressing my nose to the glass as I studied that carefree face I’d forgotten what it looked like. There were several other portraits next to hers, all women.

  “What is this?” I asked quietly, holding my palm to the glass as if somehow that would get me closer to the mom I never got to know.

  “It’s a big deal when a Descendant attends the school,” Jared said. “Your mom was the last one, so she’s kind of famous around here.” He lowered his head a bit. “I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry?” I questioned, not sure if he meant about everyone knowing who I am now, or not realizing this was my mom.

  “About your mom,” he said. “There’s been rumors and after what happened… parents talk is all, and I’m sure it wasn’t easy, dealing with all of that while you were growing up.”

  I nodded slowly, but then stopped. “What rumors?”

  Something about the weird look in his eyes told me this was not sympathy about my mom being a raging alcoholic.

  He shifted on his feet and seemed extremely uncomfortable all of a sudden. I’d been trying to figure out a way to apologize for upsetting him during our last class, clearing stepping right into a situation I knew nothing about, but now as he continued to look anywhere but me, I didn’t care about him being upset. I wanted to know what he thought he knew about my life.

  “Jared, just tell me, please? I think I’ve dealt with enough blindsided hits today.”

  “About her going off the deep end after… after what she went through,” he murmured.

  I ground my teeth as my frustration grew. What had Mom gone through? Nothing he was saying made sense, but I was suddenly embarrassed to admit I didn’t know anything about her. Nothing. I didn’t ask anything else, just continued to look at her portrait.

  “Look, I know it might be a bit rougher now for you, since everyone knows about your mom,” Jared pushed on, sounding worried, “but I hope you know you’ve at least got friends here who liked you before we knew who you really were.”

  I smiled as I backed away from the glass case. “Thanks, that means a lot actually.”

  “And if you ever want to talk about her, I wouldn’t mind listening.”

  I tried to smile and failed. “That’s, uh, that’s alright,” I snapped, and sucked in a breath. “Sorry, it’s a touchy subject.”

  “No, I get it,” he assured me with a smile.

  We stood there in the corridor for another few minutes, and despite the annoyance growing at Edgar for being a terrible uncle and not preparing me for this crap, and learning that Mom was some hot shot Descendant, I was comfortable around Jared. He was easy to get along with and talk to. Not that I was in any way looking for a relationship, but it was nice to know I had at least one friend. Well, hopefully two. Amelie had been helpful so far, and fun.

  As long as she didn’t start pestering me about Mom, we’d be great.

  After another few moments, I turned to him and puffed out my cheeks.

  He smiled as his brow furrowed, making him even more handsome than he already was.

  Friend or no friend, I sensed Jared was going to be trouble at some point.

  “What?” he asked with a light laugh.

  “I guess I owe you an apology, too.”

  His frown deepened. “For what?” he asked slowly. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  I cringed as I asked, “Did I embarrass you talking about the Hunters of Shadowguards?”

  It was his turn to puff out his cheeks, and he shrugged as he paced away a few steps, then back again. “They’re good people. It’s considered to be an honorable career, but for someone who doesn’t understand the history and what’s been happening for the past few hundred years, I can see how it might seem a bit… archaic.”

  I tilted my head back and forth. “Archaic or brutal, but yeah, this is all just odd to me still I guess. There’s a whole history to this world that I didn’t even know existed. That’s crazy.”

  “Really, Everest, it’s not a big deal,” he sighed. “I’ll admit I might’ve been a bit more defensive than was necessary.”

  “Still, I should be more cautious about what I say,” I told him. “I don’t know what this world is about, you know? I don’t know what Shadowguard Dragons are like. It’s not like I ever met one, so I shouldn’t judge them, or how they’re dealt with.”

  Though if I wanted to be really honest, I didn’t think there was anything they could do that would make me think their descendants should still be hunted down like rabid animals to this day, simply for the crimes of their ancestors.

  “Pray that you don’t, they’re not good dragons. They have never been,” he muttered, and his tone turned bitter. It didn’t take much to know he had a strong connection to these dragons, a more recent one. “They’re murderers and thieves. I hope you don’t think less of me because I want to be a Hunter, but they’re like the underbelly of the dragon world. Nothing they do is good.”

  “I don’t,” I promised him. “I just need to brush up on my history, I guess.”

  “You’ll get there, don’t wor
ry.”

  We started to walk away, and I glanced once more at my mom’s face.

  “I suppose I should warn you that there’s another picture of your mom in the library. But, you’ll see that later when you take your Lessons for Mortal-Raised since it meets there.”

  I fumbled in my bag for my schedule to see who taught that, and grinned. “I see I have Professor Fredwin for that again. He’s a good teacher, so I guess having him twice a day is not the worst thing.”

  “Yeah, he’s probably one of the best professors here,” Jared agreed. “There’s a few others that aren’t terrible.”

  We chatted for a bit more as he walked me to my next lesson.

  By the end of the day, everyone knew I was Mahlia Somerset’s daughter, and for once people were acting like this was not a bad thing, though I wasn’t sure what I liked less; looks of annoyance at a mortal-raised being here, or the looks of sympathy for whatever it was Mom had gone through.

  My last class of the day, Lessons for Mortal-Raised, met in a beautiful library that I only ever dreamed of seeing.

  The ceiling was domed in the center with skylights filling the space with bright, natural light. Tall shelves upon shelves stretched back as far as I could see in every direction, wooden beams along the walls and the ceiling gave it an older feel, as well as the tapestries hanging between more arched windows.

  A second-floor balcony with even more books ran the entire perimeter of the room. That in itself would’ve been enough to make me take pause.

  Add to that the little Emerald Petite Dragons fluttering around, pulling books off high shelves for people, and I was reminded quite quickly of where I actually was and how magical this part of my life had become.

  I wasn’t sure where to go, so I took a moment to explore. As Jared had warned me, I saw a painting of my mother, but this one was much larger and displayed on a wall with several other students honored in this way—all First Communion Descendants as designated by the gold lettering on the wall above them all.

  I wondered if I would get a painting strung up in the library one day, and wasn’t sure I liked having my face immortalized like that. I was still working on figuring out what this all meant for me, for being… me.

  A little nagging voice started in the back of my mind that this new part of me was going to overshadow who I already was, and the old Everest Somerset would disappear. Poof, just like magic.

  “Ah. Miss Somerset,” Professor Fredwin’s voice came from behind, and I spun around to greet him. He joined me at the wall, staring up at the portraits. “I see you’ve found your mother.”

  “Yes, here and in the other corridor. Jared showed me.”

  “She is a very important person.”

  I shrugged. “I think you mean was. Apparently, everyone knows that she’s not exactly… herself these days,” I said, unsure what else to call it.

  I wanted to outright ask what he knew about her, too, but then he turned and motioned to another part of the library.

  “Shall we get the lesson started then?”

  I nodded, and with one final glance at my mother’s more stoic, smiling face here, I followed him through some more rows of shelves and found a few small tables set along a windowed wall, the stained glass beautiful and intricate, showing what I assumed to be scenes from their history. My history.

  There were a few other students scattered around, talking quietly while they looked over books and notes.

  It didn’t take long before I realized I was the one and only student in this class, since no other students came over to join us, and Professor Fredwin was already sitting down, motioning for me to do the same. No wonder it met in the library.

  “So, I guess you guys really don’t get a lot of mortal-raised students, huh? How did you wind up getting the short end of the stick having to teach this class?”

  Professor Fredwin laughed as he leaned forward and said in a hushed tone, “I volunteered.”

  I could not help but whisper back. “Why?”

  “Because I too was mortal-raised.” His voice was in the lowest of whispers.

  I sat back, no longer whispering quite as intently but being quiet since we were in a library. “The plot thickens.”

  He shrugged as he glanced over the papers in front of him. “Not a lot of us at an uppity school like this, I like to help get the newbies adjusted to this world. It can be a lot to take in.”

  “Pause,” I said, holding up my hand.

  He smirked.

  “With crazy eyes like yours, how did you not know there was something up?”

  “My parents told me it was genetic,” he said. “Both of them had the same look, so I believed that it was normal. I got picked on in school about it, of course, but then all of a sudden, my parents moved us from Washington to Virginia. As Hollow Well Dragons, they had a little leeway with the school board and got me enrolled here instead of one of the less prestigious schools. Oh, the mockery,” he said dramatically and placed a hand on his chest as I stifled a laugh. “The first half of my teenage years, I was mocked for my eyes, and the second half I was mocked because I fell for Elsa’s broomstick question.”

  “Seems like most of your students don’t know you were mortal-raised,” I said.

  “I keep it to myself. Truthfully, it’s not considered very flattering,” he said. “But, unlike you, I don’t have a piece of jewelry I can whip out to improve my social standing.”

  I blushed. “I didn’t know.”

  “I know, but soon you’ll know much more than you probably ever wanted.” His smile turned sad as he shifted his gaze towards the portraits we couldn’t see from here. “I knew your mom,” he said with a smile. “One of the first people at this school to treat me like a normal… a normal dragon, I suppose. In fact, she told me she liked the idea of being raised mortal. She got a lot of unwanted attention as a Descendant. That’s probably why she chose to raise you that way.”

  I looked down. I was getting tired of everyone speaking so highly of my mom and at the same time, seeming to know what she went through when I was still in the dark about almost everything. “Good to know. So… what is this class about, exactly?” I asked to get the topic away from Mom.

  “Think of it as study hall,” he said. “You’re being introduced to an entirely new world, Everest. I’m here to be your secret weapon to understanding it all. Not just the book stuff, but the social stuff too. The politics. The way this world works.”

  “Okay, so, basically, you’re here to teach me social skills that are appropriate for a world of witches and dragons.”

  He laughed. “Basically.”

  “Great,” I said, rubbing my hands together and muttering, “why didn’t I get to take this first before I shoved my foot in my mouth about five times?”

  Four

  Slade

  Two weeks later.

  “Preston called this morning,” Tank announced as I descended the stairs of our warehouse hideaway. “No news yet from the scouts.”

  “And there won’t be,” I grunted. “He needs to send someone back inside.”

  Tank barked a laugh. “And who the hell is going to volunteer for that?”

  I stared at him blankly, waiting for him to figure it out, but it was Davis who shook his head, sitting in front of his laptop as always, along with several other monitors.

  He’d tapped into the city’s security cameras and had been watching the feeds for two weeks. “Preston is not about to send you back there. He still thinks you’re ah, a little on the unstable side.”

  Tank smirked as I rolled my eyes and sank into one of the raggedy overstuffed chairs we’d dragged into the open space. “For the last damn time, I didn’t start that fight.”

  “No, but you nearly got yourself killed.”

  I rolled my shoulders, hating how they still tended to ache first thing in the morning from my wounds. “But since then, they’ve gone quiet. It’s strange, and I do not like strange. Preston shouldn’t either.”

>   After the fight in the alley, I expected to be seeing dragons all over the city, especially close to the campus grounds, but everything had gone quiet. Too quiet. There wasn’t even the stench of them on the air.

  Davis saw nothing on the cameras and Tank and I had nothing to report on any of our trips back from the streets.

  We even risked getting closer to the campus, just in case they set up shop there, but nothing. No sign of them anywhere.

  Even Morg seemed on edge about it, though. He was more paranoid than usual and paced frantically around his little hole of a home almost day and night. Every time I stopped in to check on him, there he was, pacing. Back and forth and back and forth. He’d lost weight, too. Not eating, hadn’t showered.

  Something was coming. And we had no idea what.

  The last thing I wanted us to be was blind.

  I sulked in my chair, listening to Tank and Davis talk about something or other, nothing I cared about. For two weeks, I’d done nothing useful, and it was making me anxious.

  I drew one of my daggers from my boot and casually flipped it in my hand, glaring at the far wall.

  “Don’t stab yourself,” Tank teased, and I realized they were staring at me.

  “What?”

  “Go on patrol or something,” Tank grumbled. “Just get your brooding ass out of this warehouse for a few hours.”

  I stood and sheathed the dagger back at my boot. “Fine.”

  I stormed out of the warehouse, ignoring their mutterings behind me until the door slid shut again and I figured I would head towards the campus and see what Everest was doing this weekend.

  Not that I cared as long as she stayed on campus and out of trouble. So far, she hadn’t left the grounds, making my job quite easy. I couldn’t watch her twenty-four seven, but we had our ways of tracking potential targets. Davis was probably our best asset for that, not that I would ever admit it to his face.

  Halfway to the campus, I paused, ducking into the shop to my right to get off the sidewalk.