by Viola Grace
“Do you think that my father will trace me here?”
Trin linked arms with her and murmured, “He is using a seer, so we are going to have to use other methods to hide you.”
Apraxa chuckled. “That is why we are here. We are here to have your cards read and your aura disguised.”
Meadra squeaked. “You can do that?”
“Me? Oh hell no. I know people, and those people know people. It has taken a while to gather everybody that I need to move through life calmly, but I am there now.” Apraxa smiled slightly.
They walked along the crushed-shell path behind the museum, and when they rounded the corner, the two-acre greenhouse that was the arboretum reclined on the landscape with elegant tiers of glass reaching to fifty feet in height.
Trin was impressed. She had never been to the arboretum while she had lived in Breaker City. It had been far too expensive for her student wallet.
They walked up to the doors, and the attendants pulled the glass panels open to allow them inside. “Welcome to the arboretum.”
Meadra smiled and chirped, “Thank you!”
Trin nodded to the men, and their group entered the warm and humid expanse.
A woman in an elegant day gown met them. “Reservations?”
Trin kept her witty banter to herself.
Apraxa smiled. “We are here for the curator’s table.”
The woman looked skeptical. “Name?”
“Apraxa.”
The greeter blinked and bowed low. “Welcome to the arboretum. Please, come with me.” She straightened and gestured in the direction she was going to take them.
They followed the woman through the lush, growing space. They walked toward a mural on the wall where a hidden wall panel opened, and the woman gave them instructions. “Simply press the only button in the elevator, and it will take you to the curator’s table.”
They nodded, and she returned to her station. They stepped into the small room lined with the same glass as the giant greenhouse around them.
Trin and Apraxa made sure that Meadra was comfortable, and then, Apraxa pressed the button that started the motion of their little room.
The lift moved on a diagonal, coasting up the wall and letting them have a delightfully thorough view of all of the levels.
Meadra was holding onto Trin’s hand tightly, but her eyes were shining with delight. “When we are done with lunch, can we explore the gardens?”
Trin smiled at Apraxa’s frown. “She’s a gardener.”
“Ah. Certainly. Yes, we can look through the gardens.” Apraxa smiled, but there was a tension in her face.
The lift continued to rise on the diagonal, and when they arrived at the highest level, the chamber stopped moving, locked in place, and the door opened.
Trin led the way out and sighed inwardly when Meadra released her from the tight grip of her hand.
Apraxa smiled. “This way.”
The level they were on was suspended above the main arboretum. The floor was as transparent as the walls around them, but a path had been created to make the walkway opaque.
Apraxa led them down the path, and soon, a platform rose up, and it contained a wide circular table and four chairs.
“Ladies, have a seat.” Apraxa took a chair and settled.
Meadra sat across from her, and it left Trin sitting between them.
The moment they were all settled, a light chime went off, and a server appeared with a tea service. Apraxa’s slight smiled let Trin know that this wasn’t just a server.
As the woman set the tray down and she poured the tea, Apraxa smiled. “Thank you for seeing us, Curator.”
“You are welcome, sea born.” The woman smiled slightly. “It is an odd day when so many dragons collect in my private dining space.”
“One of them is in immediate danger, so we are coming to you to hide her.”
“Very well, first, drink your tea and pass me your cups. I need to check to see what the winds of time have planned for you.” The curator sat back and lifted her own cup.
Trin and the others all picked up their cups and slowly sipped. The leaves pressed against her lips for a moment, but she was practiced at this and simply sipped the green tea until the cup was empty.
The curator beckoned, and Trin handed the cup over. With an expert swirl, the woman tipped the cup upside down on the saucer.
Trin waited, and when the curator lifted the cup, she sent a surprised look at Trin. “You have taken on the mantle?”
“It wasn’t like I had a choice. I will be what I am and inhabit every part of it.”
Meadra blinked. “Wow.”
Trin winked.
The curator nodded. “You do seem surprisingly stable, considering what I see here. Well, if we have to have a new ruler that can override any dragon-run government around the world, I am confident that you won’t go mad. Hold tight to those close to you.”
“That makes one of us.”
Apraxa slid her cup over to the curator.
The curator gave her a sly smile. “A tempest is heading your way. You cannot avoid it. Decisions must be made, and you have to either embrace your future or dodge it as you have been doing.”
“I have not been dodging it, I have merely been going over my options. Life in Breaker City is exhausting.”
“Perhaps you should visit the sea more often. I am sure that you would be well received.”
Meadra finished her tea and handed the cup over. The curator winked at her and took the cup. She swirled, flipped, and lifted the cup again, looking from the cup to Meadra to Trin and back again.
“Well, you are in danger from your past and your present. You need to stay close to your daughter and niece. She will introduce you to your destiny.”
The curator paused. “You know that you are not human and not dragon, correct?”
Meadra nodded. “I suspected. They were taking far too many blood and tissue samples.”
The curator nodded. “It makes a certain amount of sense. You can’t stop female dragons from manifesting for generations and not have the magic that lets us shift implode.”
Trin focused on what the curator said. She had said us. There was another dragon in their midst.
Meadra asked the question that Trin was waiting for. “What am I?”
“Human mythology hasn’t been too focused, and our records are incomplete, but you are the beginning of a new species. There are magical or psychic humans in your bloodline?”
Meadra nodded. “Every other generation.”
The curator exhaled and leaned back, placing her hands on the table. The glass under her hands took on the appearance of water, and ripples ran along the surface while the teacups remained in place.
Faces floated up from the table and hovered in the air in front of them all. The curator reached up and flicked aside the masculine faces, enlarging the female ones. She hissed slightly and tapped her lips with one finger while bringing the faces to the fore one by one.
“You are a copy of Trin’s mother, yes?”
“Yes.”
“You are also a copy of your grandmother, and great, great grandmother. They have been remaking you for the last two hundred forty years.”
Meadra blinked. “Me?”
“Yes, you. Something in the early tests notified them that you were extraordinary. Now, we just need to find out how they did it.”
She beckoned to the first image that looked a lot like Trin.
“Why does she look so much like me?”
“Her genetics were reinforced. Mendellian inheritance. Huh. They must have started it immediately.”
Apraxa frowned. “That was only published in eighteen sixty-six.”
The curator smiled. “That was the publishing date. It is a far older premise. Unlike humans, shifters have known about the origins and mechanics of reproduction for nearly a thousand years. I really wish I could get a hold of the docume
ntation of this project.”
Meadra scowled. “I am not a project.”
“Yes, you are. Trin is a mutation of the project. She was the result when someone added the wrong ingredient.” The curator took the eldest image and did something with her fingers. Another bolt of female images cascaded upward.
Trin sat and watched the curator flick through the images of their ancestors. Meadra touched her hand and held it. They watched the history in their genes on display and the women who all had a striking similarity.
The sound of metal feet on the floor got Trin’s attention. A mechanical automaton was approaching with a laden tray. Trin had never seen one that was the same size as a human before.
The metal butler set plates in front of each of them while the curator continued her study.
Trin and Meadra each took up a sandwich with their free hand and started eating.
Apraxa looked at them, grinned, and started her own lunch.
The curator continued her research until she reached an image that made her nod and smile. “Got it.” She dismissed the images and flexed her fingers before taking a bite of her own before sighing happily. “That took a while. I apologize. Your line is ancient beyond what I could have guessed.”
Apraxa paused as the automaton returned with tea. “Is their line that old?”
“It goes back to the last provable diamond dragon.”
Trin held Meadra’s hand. “What?”
“Dragons have siblings, and you are of a branch of the last diamond dragon’s family. Descended from her aunt and raised in a tiny community, which is where the inbreeding started.”
Trin recoiled. “What?”
The curator waved her hand. “It was very common in ancient times before anyone realized what the effect might be on the genes. Usually, enough new genes could be gained via travellers. That is where the breeding plan was first created, or that is my guess. Without documentation, I can’t tell.”
Trin blinked. “Well, that is something. Why are they focusing on the female line?”
The curator grimaced. “Without the ability to shift, the women are easy to control, so they simply stop the women from shifting until they link them to a mate who stops their instincts from rising.”
When the automaton returned, Trin took a second cup of tea, but this one did not contain swirling leaves.
The curator smiled at the metal man. “Headly, could you get me the protection charm on my desk?”
The construction bowed and walked off.
The curator looked at them, and she rocked her head from side to side. “That was a little more activity than I had imagined. Do not get me wrong, I have enjoyed it, but I was surprised.”
Meadra frowned. “So, what am I in danger from?”
“Your past. Your past is chasing you, and it wants you back. Your niece-daughter is your ticket to safety. Stay close to her.”
Apraxa asked her own question. “Do you have a timeline on the tempest?”
“No, but it will be coming for you. I know you are ready for it, but things will go more easily if you can go to it.”
Apraxa looked at Trin.
Trin smiled. “Do what you have to, we are fine. I can find a home for us until we need to head to the capital.”
“You can stay at my house. I order you to stay at my place until you need to go back.”
Meadra cleared her throat. “Will we be safe here? I mean, Trin flew in and Brommin. What about my family just landing on the roof?”
Apraxa shook her head. “If I don’t turn on the beacons, even Trin couldn’t find it. She had to call ahead to get me to activate them. Over the years, I have paid for every type of protection for that space that I could. It is secure. You can rest there and look up what you need to. I have a pretty good library.”
Trin nodded. “She does. Now, Apraxa, what is the tempest?”
Apraxa sighed and wrinkled her nose. “He’s another dragon. Technically my fiancé by arranged marriage. My mother’s family linked me to him when I was a child. He doesn’t want a human, so I have been able to avoid him by not going to my grandfather’s home for visits. Since my human form can’t swim that well, I can’t really get to the deep ocean without shifting.”
Trin sighed. “Well, I promise not to wreck your house if you want to go and settle things with the tempest. Why is he called that?”
Apraxa shrugged. “He’s a storm dragon.”
“What are you?”
Her friend grinned. “I am a hurricane.”
“That is absolutely appropriate.”
The curator stood. “You two talk this out. Meadra, would you care for a tour of my gardens?”
Meadra was on her feet in an instant. “Yes, please. How long have you worked here?”
“I have been here since the gardens began.”
Meadra looked around. “Some of these plants are two hundred years old.”
“Are they? What a keen sense of flora you have. Come along.”
The curator offered her arm, and Meadra linked her arm through that of the strange psychic. The automaton appeared again and handed the curator a small object that she passed to Meadra.
Trin turned back to her friend. “Do you know what the curator is?”
“She is old, she has been here since the city was founded, and she likes plants.”
“She said she was a dragon.”
Apraxa nodded. “I caught that, too. It makes sense.”
“Does it? Very little about this makes sense, aside from me being sure that I will be there when they let me claim Brommin.”
Apraxa cocked her head. “How did you know he was the one for you?”
“My dragon told me, in rather graphic detail. I also saw our entire lives together when I last saw him. It was heady and hard to watch, but I will enjoy our family.”
“Did you see yourself in charge?”
Trin laughed. “You have known me for half a decade. I am always in charge.”
Apraxa giggled, and she nodded. “There is that. Now, I don’t want you two to have any parties, and no boys. Other than that, go nuts. I should be back home in a week.”
“Do you need me to do anything for your business?”
“No, I will have my Tesla, and I get reception at my grandfather’s home.”
Trin reached out and squeezed her hand. “Good luck.”
“You are going to need it more than me. You have to keep track of your mother who is going into heat and flirting with every man she sees. Enjoy.”
Trin groaned and looked through the glass panels, seeing her excited aunt-mother flitting through the greenhouse with the curator. “I think we are going to be regular visitors here. I will buy a membership.”
* * * *
The curator felt the gaze of the diamond dragon on her back. She smiled. There was going to be a riot of activity surrounded her in the next few months, but if she kept her resolve and remembered those around her, things would right themselves. Diamonds were known for their calm discretion, so it was likely that things would be all right.
The manufactured fey next to her was another matter. Those who had created her would not stop coming until she was either with them or beyond their grasp. If Meadra let Trin take care of her, things would work out for her, though her possibilities for a mate were so bizarre it didn’t bear thinking of.
The curator was happy to stay with her plants. They understood her, and she protected them. It was so much easier than dealing with the regular population. People were draining, and seeing their timelines was exhausting.
Author’s Note
Huh. The second instalment of whatever this series is is over. The next story Dragon Engaged, will not be released until 2019, and with the last chapter, I am not even sure which dragon it is.
Thanks for reading,
Viola Grace
About the Author
Viola Grace (aka Zenina Masters) is a Canadian sci-fi/
paranormal romance writer with ambitions to keep writing for the rest of her life. She specializes in short stories because the thrill of discovery, of all those firsts, is what keeps her writing.
An artist who enjoys a story that catches you up, whirls you around and sets you down with a smile on your face is all she endeavours to be. She prefers to leave the drama to those who are better suited to it, she always goes for the cheap laugh.
