Of course, there was even a dragon draped across the slate roof of her house. Luckily, dwarves had built this place and they’d known what they were doing. The building was crafted with flawless stone that not only made a comfortable dwelling but was sturdy enough to withstand anything, even the walnut-colored dragon currently lounging on her roof. The door, oak with iron hardware, was the least solid thing on the building. Shasta tugged the door open. Although it wasn’t fireproof, Shasta was grateful she didn’t have to wrestle with a stone door every time she wanted to go in or out of her home.
As she pulled the door shut behind her, the dragon on the roof started to snore, vibrating the entire structure and drowning out any other noise. Cord waved at her from the kitchen. She smiled back at him since she needed to wait for the snoring to pause before he’d be able to hear anything she said.
She skirted the small living room, furnished with a sofa, coffee table, and two chairs, on her way to a kitchen island that was part workspace and part eating space with chairs snugged under it. Cord went back to washing lettuce. Unlike her, he was a full elf and he looked it too. Tall, lanky, with short-cropped blond hair, charming blue eyes, and a dazzling smile. He wasn’t much older than her, only forty-two to her twenty-two. Where elves—or in her case half elves—were concerned, that was basically growing up together.
The dragon stopped rattling the house and started to exhale. Shasta knew what came next and hurried to get as much conversation in as she could. “How did the lessons go today?”
He shrugged. “As well as they usually do. We went over common humanoid interactions like dinner invitations and appropriate ways for dragons to respond. One of them argued with me over and over that it was only right for humans to invite dragons to their house. I kept explaining that a great many humans don’t have the space for a dragon or charms to shrink them down to a manageable size.”
She shook her head as the dragon let out another snore. There wasn’t a good reply. They both knew most of these dragons didn’t have a clue what life was like in the rest of the world. Here in the Dragon Lands, also known as Wyoming, the human types were few and far between. Most of the land was devoted to dragons, and they didn’t have to worry about silly things like narrow streets, houses designed for small bipeds, or their tail denting a car parked down the street.
That was where the two of them came in. The dragons’ last pair of instructors had decided to retire and moved to Key West, Florida. Personally, she thought they’d made a good choice. The island was so small there wasn’t even room for a single dragon to visit, never mind for them to show up in a group and try to convince the instructors to return.
As far as first jobs went, this was as good as it got. The pay was nice, the land beautiful, the dragons polite, and Cord was a solid partner. Though before she’d gotten here, she’d wondered if this was a real job or some make-work her parents had concocted in a ploy to keep her busy and safe. Unlike the rest of the family, she wasn’t helping the police solve a magical case or working out spells that could blanket an entire town. It would be so typical for her dad to find the safest job possible for her so she felt useful but, unlike the rest of the company, never faced any real danger. However, the dragons really did need teachers, and between their size and the fire, it was hardly without risk.
The snoring abated, and Cord sighed and glanced at her, his gaze flickering from her tired eyes to her pained expression. “So how did your class do today?”
She snorted. “It was about average until Byron and Randolph collided in midair. Luckily, they’re both fine. My last group was a joy to teach; this one, not so much.” Narrowing her eyes, she realized his question had been a little too casually asked, almost as if he’d suspected there would be trouble. She wasn’t asking him the right questions. “How do you think your group is going to do when they get to me?”
“No worse than the current lot.”
That news had her groaning loudly enough to rival the dragon snoring on their roof. “Delightful.”
Cord smiled and patted her arm. “It won’t be that bad.”
Looking at him, she couldn’t help herself. “Romeo told me he would beat me into submission with his charm.”
His eyes widened. “You’re joking, right?”
“Not even a little.”
“Do you want me to talk to him? You can send him back to my class if it would help.”
Shasta shook her head. “I can handle it.”
“Are you sure?” He looked at her steadily.
Another snore drowned out her answer, but the expressive eye-roll and nod must’ve been enough to convince him that the problem was more exasperating than anything else because he caught her in a friendly hug.
It was over before she had time to take a deep breath. Stepping back, she smiled and headed to the bathroom to wash up. Ever since the night of their graduation, hugs from Cord had been getting shorter and less frequent. Most of the blame for the growing distance fell on her, and this was one more thing she wished she knew how to fix. Maybe after this job she’d be willing to talk about it, but until then she wanted to keep the peace. There wasn’t any point in stirring things up when they were going to be here together for a while.
By the time she’d gotten cleaned up, the snoring had stopped and she hoped the dragon had found another place to nap. For once, she wanted to have a quiet evening and fall asleep without hearing a dragon breathe.
When she returned to the kitchen, she found Cord dumping a diced tomato into a big bowl of lettuce. “What can I do to help?”
He tipped his head to the side. “Sunflower seeds and chickpeas. I’ll get to work on the olives.”
Nodding, Shasta hurried to her tasks. “Did we get any mail today?”
“I received a letter from my parents.” He laid out a row of olives and started slicing them. “They miss me, and you. After reminding me to take lots of pictures, they asked if I was sure it was impossible to call.”
“My parents asked the same thing at least three times. Since they’re the ones who set this up, you’d think they’d know I really couldn’t call them.” She pried open the canister and then put a large handful of sunflower seeds in the bowl.
“I’ll tell her, for the fourth time, that my phone stopped working hours before we got to our current location.” He dumped a pile of olives on top of the sunflower seeds and started cutting a giant carrot.
Shasta opened a can of chickpeas, drained them, and tossed them on top of everything else that was going into the salad. “That’ll probably make her talk to my mom, and between them and my brother they’ll figure out some spell to amplify cell phone signals.” That would be exactly the type of spellwork her brother Victor and her mom would find fascinating.
“I wouldn’t put it past them.”
“Did I tell you Mom’s figured out a spell so she can call me magically?”
Cord looked up from the carrot with wide eyes. “Truly?”
“Even tried it yesterday. I told her I couldn’t talk during class and made her end the spell.” Shasta washed her hands. “She’ll have it perfected in a few weeks.”
“A week, tops.” Cord counted as he added the carrots to the salad.
Shasta groaned. She loved her family, but it wasn’t easy being the baby, especially the grown-up baby.
Cord finished rinsing his hands and dried them. “It won’t be that bad.”
She glared at him.
He chuckled and carried the bowl of salad to the table.
Shasta followed him over with a pitcher of water and two cups. “It wouldn’t even surprise me if they showed up one day.”
He gave her a big-eyed look. “Do you really think so?”
“I do.” She settled into her seat with a sigh. “I really do.”
Cord didn’t say anything as he brought back bowls, forks, and salad tongs. “I guess we should make sure we keep clean sheets on the spare bed.” He sat down across from her.
Shasta filled her bowl
with salad. “Until they show up, I’m going to pretend the Dragon Lands are their own world, completely separate from the rest of the country. It’s just us and the dragons. The biggest problems in this world are the knuckleheads in my class.”
He lifted his cup. “I’ll toast to that.”
Shasta clinked glasses with him. The sturdy clack was a marked difference from the last toast they’d made, when the glasses had emitted a chipper ring as they’d toasted their graduation. Perhaps one day that sound and this gesture wouldn’t remind her of that night and the words she couldn’t bring herself to say. Things were finally back to normal, or close to it. Rather than dwell on the past, she set about demolishing her dinner with a single-minded focus. For a time she thought it was an amicable silence, but then Cord sighed for the third time in less than a minute. She glanced up, only to find him studying her.
“Are we ever going to talk about it?” His words were almost a whisper, as if he wasn’t sure he wanted to say anything but couldn’t hold them in.
“I think we’ve both said everything we needed to.” She ignored the flash of hurt in his eyes and took a big bite of salad, loudly crunching on a piece of carrot.
He kept talking, the expression on his face unreadable. “If things were settled, we wouldn’t be having awkward moments like this.”
Shasta swallowed the salad, which suddenly didn’t taste appetizing, then forced herself to meet his gaze. “There’s nothing to talk about. We have a good thing going here, a good work partnership, and that’s it.” That was all she wanted, she reminded herself, a solid work partner, someone who would guard her back if the job called for it.
“If that’s all there is to it, why does it still bother you?” His voice was gentle, but that didn’t remove the sting of his words.
“What bothers me is constantly being asked to talk about it.” She carefully set her fork down.
Last year she’d graduated college and joined the family business. Shortly after, Cord had talked to her parents, quit his job with the local police force, and joined her in training. Now, Shasta was grateful to have a competent partner she trusted with her life. However, when she tried to get an answer out of him on why he’d switched jobs, Cord would mutter about the earth sending him messages, that this had long been the plan. Further questions were ignored. It was an answer her mother would term “Elven mumbo jumbo.” In this case, Shasta was less elf and more her mother’s daughter. There was a real answer, and she wanted it.
Shasta leaned back in her chair, eyes narrowed. “Tell me why you quit your job to do this, and I’ll talk about that night.”
Cord didn’t hesitate. “Agreed.” There was a triumphant gleam in his eyes.
“Narzel fart,” Shasta swore.
“You start. I’m good for my word, but you’ve been known to wiggle out of an agreement.” Cord gave her a cheeky grin.
Shasta clenched her jaw so hard she thought she might break a tooth. She slowly counted to ten, first in English, then in Elvish. “I was eleven last time I did that.” Mom would be proud of her for not yelling.
His grin faded. “True, but you’ve been reluctant to discuss that night, and I’m not parting with my secrets until you give me a true conversation.”
She couldn’t hold his gaze. There was something there she didn’t want to name because then it would be real, a part of her life she had to figure out. Shasta had more than enough to do simply herding birdbrained dragons through classes. She didn’t want any other complications, especially not ones that included Cord.
“Please?” he whispered.
“No. I’m sorry. I can’t. Forget I said anything.” Shasta pushed herself away from the table, abandoning her food.
“Shasta.” He sighed heavily. “Please come back. We can pretend I never asked.”
She snatched a canteen and started to fill it. She wanted to talk, but she didn’t want anything to change. A quick peek over her shoulder sent a lance of pain through her heart. His shoulders were rounded, and he kept running a hand through his hair. Jerking her eyes back, she realized the canteen was overflowing. Shasta turned the water off, capped the bottle, grabbed an oversized dinner roll from the bread box, and marched out the other side of the kitchen and into her room. She quickly found a light jacket and a blanket. She hurried out of her room.
“I’m sorry. Please…” Cord reached out, but she ignored him.
As soon as she was outside the house, she started to run. Cord could catch her if he tried, but he’d always respected her need for space. Though it would be nice if he also respected her desire to never talk about that one night. Unfortunately, he was determined to have a conversation and mentioned that night at least every other week.
She glanced over her shoulder. Cord was nowhere in sight. She slowed to a jog, her body relaxing into the familiar pace. As she ran, she didn’t allow herself to think of anything but the air against her face and the earth under her feet. A few minutes later she crested a slight rise and looked down at a big field filled with dragons. They called it the gathering place, where meetings and important events could be held, but most of the time it was their favorite social area. The green field was dotted with dragons ranging from black that could rival the night sky to blues, pinks, greens, and yellows so pale they could have been mistaken for white if there hadn’t been an alabaster dragon sprawled across the center of the field.
She trotted down the hill, pleased at the variety. Someone here would be willing to give her a ride, though she had to find the right dragon to ask. Here and there were groups of baby dragons, from tiny things only two feet long to dragons over six feet from nose to tail tip, all playing under the watchful eye of dragons larger than a school bus. Dragons grew about a foot a year until they were in their twenties; then the growth slowed. No one had been forthcoming on exactly how quickly they grew after that, only that the oldest dragons were the largest dragons.
Movement at the edge of her vision had her turning to the left, squinting to see wingtips and slender heads at the outskirts of the gathering area. Now those dragons looked right. They were large enough to carry her easily and young enough to view a trip as a fun escape from town. Shasta veered in their direction.
When Shasta navigated around the bulk of an especially large dragon, she got a good view of her targets. There were four of them. She didn’t recognize them from any of her training classes, which was all for the best in her mind. She wasn’t looking for great conversation, just a ride.
As soon as she was at the outskirts of their game, she politely cleared her throat. The four dragons paused their pursuit of a two-foot-diameter ball. The ball rolled toward her, stopping a few feet away.
Shasta pushed the ball back in their direction. “Excuse me. Would any of you be willing to give me a ride? I’d like to go pretty much anywhere that’s at least ten minutes’ flight away.”
After the dragons exchanged a few glances, a twenty-foot-long dragon with iridescent gold scales stepped forward. “I am Glimmer. I will take you and bring you back.”
“Thank you, Glimmer.” Shasta shrugged into her jacket, zipped it up, and tucked her dinner roll inside a pocket.
Glimmer bobbed her head and went down onto her knees. Shasta folded the blanket in half and draped it across Glimmer’s back. Then she grabbed ahold of a spine ridge and climbed up the dragon’s side. Shasta settled herself on the blanket, between two ridges.
Glimmer swung her head back to look at Shasta. “Are you ready?”
“Yes.” Shasta took a firm grip on the spinal ridge in front of her and leaned low over the dragon’s back. She felt Glimmer’s muscles bunch under her. In one powerful move, Glimmer leaped up, throwing them into the air. For a moment they were jumping, but Glimmer’s wings opened with an audible snap, catching the wind. Glimmer surged under Shasta, using strong wingbeats to propel them up into the air. They were flying.
Chapter Two
Shasta snapped her blanket open, spreading it across the ground at the ba
se of a tree. She sat down, leaning against the trunk. She had to give the dragon credit—Glimmer had found a beautiful spot. The tree Shasta was using as a backrest was situated on the downhill side of a rise about fifteen minutes’ lazy flight north of town, and it was all hers until the dragon returned near sundown. From here the rolling hills of browns, golds, and greens seemed to go on forever. The horizon stretched above her in an unbroken line of blue dotted with fluffy clouds.
While the flight had given her some distance from her emotions, she could still remember how fast her heart had been beating that night and how Cord had smiled at her like she was the only girl in the world. Shasta closed her eyes, lowered her hand, and dug through the grass until she could feel earth under her fingertips. As she slowly breathed in and out, the earth’s energy seeped into her. It was a hum, slowly rising and falling as it pushed its way through her. With it came a temporary calm. She knew from past experience that it would only last as long as she was touching the earth, but with it came a better buffer between logic and emotions, which would allow her to process without being overwhelmed.
Or in this case get some distance so she could shove all those feelings back in the box where they belonged. The box lived in the dark recesses of her mind. It held the memories of the night she and Cord had graduated training. She’d been overflowing with happiness and giddy with the knowledge that she’d be heading out to her first job soon. That night she had looked at Cord and hadn’t seen the friend she’d grown up with but a man with a purely masculine look of approval in his eyes and a smile that invited her closer.
She’d taken him up on that invitation, spending the night in his bed and in his arms. It had been the best day of her life until morning’s light hit her eyes, when she looked over at her best friend and partner. The wave of fear that had crashed over her in that moment had washed away all the previous day’s joy.
In those seconds while she was awake and he was still blissfully asleep, all she could think about was their past, the secret she’d kept for fourteen years, and how betrayed he’d feel. He wasn’t simply a family friend or a man she’d come to love. Cord was the first person she’d seen with ears like hers. He’d rescued her from an abusive home, and when she’d solemnly told him the earth had promised that her real parents would love her, well, he’d helped her find them. He’d even believed her when she told him the earth created her and that she was half elf, half witch, a cross that couldn’t exist under normal circumstances.
Earth Born (The Earth Born Cycle Book 1) Page 2
