Dragon Slayers

by Kristin D. Van Risseghem

  He rubs his chest and then runs his fingers through his dark, curly brown hair. “Too much pull.” Staten continues to rub his upper torso. “I think that’s enough practicing for one day.” Standing, he offers he his hand. Chivalrous, I’ll give him that much. “Now, tell me what Bronx did to you. He should know better than to hurt you to the point you can barely walk.”

  “I’m too mad to talk about him right now.”

  “We’ll, you’re going to.” Staten towers over my, trying intimidation. “I need to know why he hurt you the way he did. And to know if I need to kick his ass into Sunday.”

  Is Staten going to bat for little old me?

  “I don’t need you to fight my battles with your brother.” I poke his chest. He flinches and takes a step back. I bite my lip. “I can handle him.”

  “I’m sure you can and do, but even if he let things go too far with a fight, he shouldn’t have. We keep our own safe. If you won’t tell me, I’ll pry it out of him, and you’ll can be sure that my methods won’t be the same as yours.”

  Did he just say “we” and “our own”? What does that even mean? He shouldn’t be lumping me into his group of brotherly love weirdness.

  “You should let your body rest tomorrow since you’re not fully healed yet. And take it easy the next few days. We’ll meet again in tomorrow afternoon to continue.” He turns to head for the door then stops. “If you want to.”

  I wobble toward him and say, “It’s not a problem. I don’t have history tomorrow, and Mr. Lorimer basically kicked me out of his class, so I’m here with you now. And I think Bronx will be tossing me out of Skills. So tomorrow will be a light day.”

  He nods and walks out of the room, leaving me to my own thoughts and soreness. That didn’t go as awful as I thought it would. Sure, Staten had his moments of being a douche. He did manage to help me heal my lips and arm, though.

  Tonight after dinner, I’ll try fixing my bum leg.

  As I leave the room, my magic is still humming around me. It brushes against my skin. Dances in my mind. Flicking my palm up, a greenish flame flares. It’s a constant feeling now.

  What did Staten just unlock in me?

  I’m glad that Noelle hasn’t rushed into my room to check up on me. I don’t think I can handle her right now. Her bubbliness is a lot to take in, especially when I’ve had such a shitty day. I love her to death, though, in the short time we’ve become friends. Friends. Another reason to stay at the academy and finish what I’ve started.

  I need to focus.

  It took me twice as long to walk the distance from the Training Center to my room. I kept to the tunnels, so I wouldn’t run into as many people.

  When I finally step through to my suite, I’m exhausted. Thankfully, my single room has a small fridge where I keep snacks and food. Taking out meat and cheeses, I cut them into bite-sized pieces.

  I grab a towel and a change of clothes to head to the showers and wash away today. It takes double the time to shampoo my hair with a sore arm and skin that burns from the many bruises that dot my body.

  When I step back to my room, I feel refreshed. Putting my hair up into a ponytail is challenging, but I manage.

  Clearing a spot on the floor, I sit cross-legged with my palms facing up. I close my eyes and get in the zone, vacating my stresses and worries. The only thing left is the slight uncomfortable pain that zings through my body.

  I sit in this position for minutes, focusing on my center. My magic.

  A knock interrupts me.

  I know who it is by the lavender smell wafting up from under the door. Manny.

  “It’s open,” I say. I’m glad he’s here. He’s my lifeline. Bronx better not have sent him to check in on me. I’m still furious at him. He said he would never hurt me. He did. He broke my trust.

  The door opens and in walks my boyfriend. My heart flutters every time I see him. He’s wearing his black fatigues and a blue T-shirt. Both look really nice on him.

  “What the hell, Brooklyn?” Manny runs to my side. “Who did this to you?” His hands clench. “I’m going to kick someone’s ass for this.” He stands to leave.

  “Manny, it’s not like that. Your brother—”

  “Excuse me? I though you said one of my brothers did this to you?”

  “If you’d let me explain—”

  “You’re defending them? Which one? So help me, Brooklyn—”

  “Manny.” I pull his arm down because I’m not fast enough to stand and stop him barreling out of my room. “It happened in Skills class.”

  “Bronx did this to you?”

  “Would you shut the hell up and let me explain?” I bite my lip. I never yell at people, let alone guys, or my boyfriend. His shrewd eyes narrow, but he does as I asked. “It was a one-on-one. My partner was a girl named Madi. She basically kicked me all over the floor. As you can see.”

  “Why didn’t Bronx stop it?”

  I shrug. That is the golden question. Why did he let it go for so long?

  “I’m going to beat his ass senseless the next time I see him. I hope he got a good look at you for what he did.”

  “I went to the med-bay to get checked and then managed to get back there as class was getting out. Then Staten and I had magic training—”

  “He knows, too?” Rage churns in his green eyes. “Did he at least heal you?”

  “Yes. He showed me how. We fixed my eyes, lips, and arm and just before you arrived, I was working on my leg.”

  “Your eye looks pretty good. If you didn’t mention it, I would have thought you just didn’t get much sleep last night or something. But now that I know about it, yeah, I can tell. A little makeup will hide it enough, if you’re worried about that.”

  I wasn’t. I don’t wear a lot of cover up anyway.

  “Do you want to help me mend my leg?” I pat the carpet.

  “Sure. I only know the very basics, what was taught during Level Two classes. Staten is the magic user between us.”

  “Since I was kicked out of regular Level Two stuff, I don’t know what you learned. But Staten said that I can push and pull magic into others. We were practicing pulling when I guess I took too much and knocked him over.” I don’t need to tell Manny that he landed on top of me. “It’s easier if I push first, but Staten said I need to know how to do both because I may not be able to touch someone to pull their magic.”

  He nods and takes hold of my hands. “Do what you need to do, then. We were Staten’s lab rats last year, so I know this doesn’t hurt.”

  Ha, I’m sure I will be the first to cause bodily harm while performing basic magic.

  I close my eyes and focus my mind and energy on my faint green flames. When I reach for Manny’s magic, his is azure. It’s calm like he is. Without pulling it, I keep it on his side of the wall and use his tranquil nature to sooth mine.

  My magic keeps bumping up against the invisible barrier, and I don’t know how to remove it or take it down.

  Try as I might, the divider won’t budge.

  We’ve been at this for hours and my stomach grumbles. One of Manny’s eyes open.

  “Let’s take a break and get a snack,” he says. “Did you manage to do anything?”

  “No. I feel your magic. I know where mine is, but when I try to pull yours, it won’t come.”

  He helps me stand. “Maybe you’re forcing it too hard? I don’t know, just tossing out ideas. I don’t have much magic and rely more on brute strength.” He examines my body. “You’ll have to rely on stealth and magic.”

  “Hey!” I slap his arm. “I’m not a weakling.”

  “I wasn’t implying that at all. You are one of the strongest people I know. Your determination alone surprises me, so I know you’ll get this, too.” He tosses my arm over his shoulder. “Now wobble along, Gimpy.”

  “Wait.” I stop. “Let me just heal my leg, so I can walk normally. When we get back, I can patch my ribs and bruises.”

  Manny shakes his head, and I know he’s thi
nking some nasty thoughts about his brother. Pushing and then pulling is easy for me now after the couple of times I’ve done it. Manny’s magic is hovering right at the fence, just waiting to greet mine. Then I pull it and fuse it together, mixing his sky with my grass. It tingles along my thigh as it soaks into my knee. I watch the flames play with the muscles and skin as it knits together. Flexing my leg, it’s almost as good as new. Still a bit tender but manageable.

  We leisurely stroll to the Lounge to grab a quick bite to eat. It’s almost the end of dinner, but we make it with minutes to spare. We opt to eat there because of my leg, which is fine since there aren’t many kids around for a Thursday night. Many are finishing up homework or getting ready for the weekend.

  Manny takes the lead with the conversation, and that’s fine with me. He tells me what he’s learning as a Level Three. I should find it interesting since I’ll be learning it next year. I’m not being a very good girlfriend by not listening. Instead, I’m thinking of his oldest brother. Staten. He’s an odd one. And I know there’s something going on between us. He’s fighting against it, but every now and then he lets something slip and it makes me think he doesn’t really hate me.

  “Do you want to go to a movie tomorrow night?” Manny asks. “There is a new rom-com that came out last week.”

  “How do you know I don’t want to go see that space-alien one?”

  “I just assumed, but hey, if that’s what you want to go see, I’m game.” He pops a fry into his mouth.

  “I’m joking. That’d be great. It’s a date, then.”

  “Should we get back, so you can practice more?” I nod. “Here, let me take your trash, and I’ll meet you at the exit.”

  I let him have the tray and lift my battered body from the chair and shuffle to the door. We walk hand in hand back to my dorm, enjoying the clear night sky.

  We resume our seated positions, but on the bed this time. Hanging out with Manny is easy. He doesn’t push conversation, and he’s so laid back and quiet at times. I think he understands my need for solitude and doesn’t need to fill the time with chatter. I like being around him. He eases my burdensome mind. We hold hands, our legs touching.

  What if it is porous? Dump in the sand and sift it back out, taking only the amount brought in.

  My flames slithers close to his magic wall, and I imagine that it has tons of tiny holes. Manny’s magic slips through the spaces and combines with mine. It knows where to go, to heal my torso. Pain flares in my chest and quickly dissipates. I’m left with a cooling sensation.

  I jerk forward, catching Manny by surprise. “I think I did it! There is still lingering soreness, but my ribs don’t hurt as bad when I breathe.”

  “That’s great, Brooklyn!” He leans in and kisses and me. “I knew you could do it. It just takes time and practice.”

  “Thank you for believing in me.” I kiss him again.

  “I’ll have to do more things for you, so you can thank me if you’re going to dole out kisses.”

  “You sound like Bronx.”

  “Yeah. He would say something along those lines, wouldn’t he? So, what do you want to do?” Like most guys, I’m sure he wants to make out now that I’m almost fully healed. When he suggests what he does, I’m shocked. “Do you have cards? We could play some games.” Immediately, strip poker comes to mind. “Cribbage or black jack?”

  Yeah, this is safe and conservative Manny.

  “Yeah, I’d like that.” I scoot off the bed and rummage through one of the desk drawers. “Do you play chess?” I know I have playing cards in here somewhere. I don’t have a cribbage board anyway.

  “No, never learned. Now checkers.” He laughs. “I know that one.”

  “I’ll have to teach you sometime. It’s a game of strategy. I think you’d do well at it.”

  “Sounds more like Staten.”

  Reaching back to the farthest corner of the drawer, I locate the deck and wave the box at Manny.

  He shuffles the deck like a pro gambler. I think I might be in trouble. It’s not like he can cheat on this. Well, maybe he can count cards or something. We play for a long time, well into the evening. We laugh, talk, and share stories about our time in normal high school.

  “I remember one time, before one of Bronx’s football championship games, we snuck to the opposing teams’ captain’s house and moved his vehicle to the field,” Manny says. “Then proceeded to toilet paper it. We were in hot water for that one. The car was a piece of junk, but still ran. When the police were called, they threatened to arrest us for grand theft auto, joy riding, and some other bogus charge if we didn’t own up to it. Staten informed the police that they couldn’t hold us on the joy riding charge since they couldn’t prove which one drove the vehicle over to the football stadium. In reality no one drove it; we pushed it the seven blocks. After our parents called, all charges were dropped, especially when Bronx’s dad threatened not to sponsor the upcoming building dedication.”

  After hearing more stories about him and his brothers and all the trouble they caused the teachers and school, it makes me wish I had friends or even siblings to get into mischief with.

  “It’s getting late; do you want me to go?” Manny asks. “You have history in the morning.”

  “I know.” It’s not even eleven yet. “You can stay if you want to.”

  “Do you want to watch TV or something?”

  I sort the cards and put them back into the box before I grab the remote and flip on the flat screen. Then scrolling through the channels, a news story flashes on the screen. It’s showing some sports team celebrating a win. I press to flip past the station until I hear Manny make a noise in his throat. His eyes plead to return to the news. I do, and he finishes watching the sports story. While he’s digesting that, I turn off the lights and snuggle onto the bed.

  After the clip, he turns the station to some random black and white film. He’s engrossed in this, too. I have no idea what movie it is. My mom made me watch many of the classics: Casablanca, Gone with the Wind, Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Singin’ in the Rain. I don’t recognize this.

  “What movie is this?” I ask. Then I spot James Dean wearing his famous cuffed jeans, leather jacket, with a cigarette in his hand.

  “Rebel Without a Cause.”

  “Never seen it.”

  “It’s good. We’ll have to watch it from the beginning some time.”

  “OK, I’d like that.” I want to spend time with him, watching movies. It’s obvious he loves the old films. He quotes some of the words as the characters say it.

  “Are you going to come sit next to me?” I ask. I’m leaning against the wall with pillows propped behind me, the comforter wrapped tightly around my legs.

  “I don’t need to be told twice to sit next to a beautiful girl.” He scurries under the covers, lifting the blanket, and tucking me into his side. “I love this part.”

  I hold my tongue until the scene plays out. “Why do you like movies so much?”

  “They were my escape until the boys and I were old enough to cause real trouble.”

  He watches the rest of the movie since there is only ten more minutes, while I play with his fingers. I get what’s happening, but I’d like to see the film from the beginning. I trace lines on his hands and up his arms, circling back to his face and then to his soft, kissable lips.

  The air charges with electricity.

  He nips the pad of my finger and stares at me. The green of his eyes swirls like a pinwheel. Can eye color really do that? He kisses me lightly on my check, jawline, and neck. I forget the strangeness of his eyes. Finally, his mouth finds mine.

  Our lips stay locked as our hands roam over each other’s bodies. We come up for air. It doesn’t last long. He trails kisses down my shoulder, along my collarbone. I lean back against the wall. His warm hands slip under my tank top. Fingertips graze along the bottom of my bra and then to my back. He’s hesitant, waiting for me to give him the okay.

  I’m not waiting for
marriage before I have sex. But honestly, I’m not mentally ready. His brother just let another girl beat my ass and didn’t stop it. They are hiding something from me.

  And yet, I want this connection with him. Now.

  He’s been there for me. He’s sweet and understanding. My body responds to his. It’s more than that, though. We connect on a different level. We have fun together, and I can see us having a long-term relationship and not just some roll in the sack.

  I just can’t make myself nod. Not yet.

  My inner battle takes a second too long.

  His fingers leave my back and find their way to my face. He cups my cheeks. “Whenever you’re ready. It’s no rush.”

  And that’s how I know he will be my first.

  A quiet knock on the door breaks the moment. We look at each other, surprised.

  Manny’s body tenses.

  Does he know who it is? I scramble off the bed and open the door.

  Bronx stands with his back to me.

  He turns. His head is down, eyes looking at his shoes. Then he takes in my yoga pants, tank top, and messy hair. He swallows. “Did I wake you?” He still doesn’t look at my bruised body. “I’m sorry, Brooklyn. I never meant to hurt you. I thought you could handle it, whatever Madi would do to you. I’m your instructor and I shouldn’t have let it go as long as I did. You’ve surprised me time and again with your magic and resilience, and thought you could find your way out.” His eyes never find mine. “I’m so sorry, Sweetheart. I just hope ... I pray that you can forgive me. One day.” He shuffles away.

  Can I let him walk away? At least he came to apologize. And it’s sincere.

  “Bronx.” I pad after him and grab his arm. “I know. Thank you. I wish, too, that I will be able to forgive you. Staten said you were just pushing me to see my limits, and I understand that. But as my teacher, you should have stopped it before my ribs got bruised.”