Winging It (4 page)

My mom pulled back and caught my face in her hands, smiling at me before she kissed the tip of my nose. She used to do that when I was a kid. I had the most enormous lump in my throat and couldn’t make a sound.

‘You could come with me,’ she said, hope in her tone. ‘You could come with me and forget all this dragon stuff.’

I looked at my dad, but he seemed to have been turned to stone. Just his eyes glittered. Was
that
what had set them off? For years my mom had been cool with our dragon-shifting abilities.

Or was it
my
shifting abilities that were the problem?

Why else would she ask me to forget the dragon stuff?

I spoke with care, feeling like I was on thin ice. ‘How can I forget what I am?’

My mom closed her eyes and took a deep breath. ‘Goddess, you even sound like him.’ Then she wiped her tears and picked up her suitcase, purposeful once again. ‘Well, that’s that, then,’ she said with a finality that was terrifying.

Terrifying enough that I had to say something. I wanted some reassurance that she’d be back and so I said the first thing that came to mind. ‘Will you be back by my birthday?’

She looked at me, a thousand shadows in her eyes, and I was afraid of her answer. ‘I don’t know.’ Before I could freak that my mom was leaving for good and my dad was just standing back, watching her go, my mom dug into the pocket of her sweater. ‘Just in case, Rafferty asked me to give you this for your birthday.’

‘Rafferty!’ It’s not often that my dad is surprised, but I could see that he was shocked. And really, it would have made more sense for his oldest friend to have entrusted him with a gift for me. Rafferty is another of the
Pyr
. He and my dad have been pals for centuries.

My mom’s tone was challenging as she turned to glare at my dad. ‘Maybe Rafferty didn’t think you’d let it go.’

My dad frowned. My mom turned her back on him again, put down her suitcase, then held out a small fabric bag. I took it from her, not knowing what else to do.

There was something heavy inside it.

Something round.

‘You might as well open it now,’ my mom said, shrugging into her coat and slamming things into her purse.

My dad exuded disapproval at that, because he’s pretty big on his integrity. What could Rafferty have sent that might have tempted my dad to keep it? I opened the ties, and dumped the contents into my hand.

It was a ring.

No, it was
the
ring. My dad evidently saw it because he caught his breath sharply. No wonder.

For as long as I can remember, Rafferty has worn this ring. It’s black and white, like black glass and white glass swirled together. It’s not just an ordinary ring, though; it changes to fit his finger or his talon. It shifts with him, always the perfect size. I love it and he knows it, but I was astounded that he would let it go.

Ever. To anyone. It’s part of Rafferty.

In fact, I felt like I had a piece of him in my hand. Did he really intend to
give
it to me? Forever?

He’d loaned it to me the previous spring in our battle against the Mages, and something weird had happened. I’d been able to call on the previous Wyvern and had gotten a clue from her to help save the
Pyr
. Afterward, the ring had looked the same as always, and every time I’d asked Rafferty or my dad about it, neither of them would answer.

So what had changed? Why was Rafferty giving me the ring now? Did he know anything about the party invitation, and how I thought the Mages were up to something?

If he disagreed with my dad about the threat posed by the Mages – and the power of the treaty – it would make sense that he’d asked my mom to give me the ring.

Unfortunately, there was no note. I would have bet everything that Rafferty wouldn’t answer any question I sent.

No, he’d play that ‘figure it out’ game that my dad also loves, the one that drives me bananas.

I was going to ask anyway. Just because.

I looked at my mom.

‘He just said to make sure you got it. That’s all I know.’ She hefted her bag.

‘Eileen,’ my dad said, his tone low, ‘don’t go.’

‘I can’t stay and watch. Not anymore.’

‘But …’

She pivoted then, as ferocious as any dragon. ‘But
nothing
, Erik. Listen – I’ve stood by and watched you choose the
Pyr
over your marriage, time and time again. I’ve recognized that this was your role and your responsibility.’ My mom lifted her chin and glared at him. My dad even flinched a bit, which is saying something. ‘But I can’t stand by and let you choose the
Pyr
over the welfare of your own daughter.’

This was about
me
.

How could my new powers ruin everything?

‘You’re pushing her too hard,’ my mom continued. ‘You can’t let her just be a kid, or come to things in her own time.’

‘But—’ My dad did try to argue his side, but my mom cut him off. She was a lot more angry than he was.

‘But
nothing
. How many nights did you take her out late to practice flying and shifting? How much time does she have left to spend with her friends? Human friends? Have you even noticed that Meagan isn’t here very often anymore? That girl used to practically live here.’

‘Mom, that’s something else …’

‘Is it?’ My mom glared at me and I couldn’t argue the point. It was about my dragon powers in a way, because I couldn’t tell Meagan about them.

‘But I want to learn about my powers,’ I argued.

‘Of course you do. But it shouldn’t be the
only
thing you do.’ My mom turned back to my dad. ‘I can’t take it anymore. And if this is the only way to show you that I’m serious, then I’m going to do it, no matter how much it hurts. I’ll live without you, if I have to.’ My mom sighed and tears shimmered in her eyes again. She ran her finger down my cheek. ‘I’ll call you. Every day. I promise.’

I nodded, my own tears blurring my vision. My mom was leaving.

‘Where are you going?’ my dad asked, low and hot.

My mom paused in the corridor outside our loft, but didn’t look back. She spoke very softly and looked at her boots. ‘You told me once that you could find me anywhere, anytime, that if I was afraid, you’d come to me before I could even scream.’ She glanced over her shoulder and I saw her swallow. ‘Is that still true, Erik?’

My dad cleared his throat. He shoved a hand through his hair and looked as if he’d like to argue in his own defense.

If he could just think of what to say.

My mom didn’t wait for him to find the words. ‘Fine.’ She spun and marched out the door. I heard her on her messenger as she strode down the corridor, calling a cab.

The loft seemed to echo with her absence, and she wasn’t even out of the building yet. I felt cold and uncertain, and pretty sure I was going to be sick.

The worst possible scenario was really happening.

My parents were splitting up.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, it was all because of me. I shut the door when my dad didn’t move and leaned back against it, staring at him. I didn’t know this script. I didn’t want to know it.

He stared at the floor.

‘Where will she go?’ I asked. Saying something had to be better than bursting into tears.

‘Her sister’s, maybe. I don’t know.’ My dad fixed me with a look. ‘Don’t imagine for one minute that I won’t find out.’ He raised a finger and shook it at me. ‘Don’t imagine for one second that I don’t love your mother with all my heart and soul.’

That declaration came a bit too late, to my thinking.

‘Really? You’re the only one who could have made her stay, but you didn’t even try,’ I said, hearing my own anger. ‘Maybe she’s right. Maybe you don’t give a shit.’

I shouldn’t have said it, but once I had, I didn’t regret the words, not one bit. Our gazes locked for a moment and the air seemed to crackle between us. I saw my dad’s nostrils flare.

‘I felt you shift today,’ he said tightly. ‘Were there humans present?’

‘They didn’t really see …’

‘Grounded!’ he bellowed, jabbing his finger through the air at me. My dad almost never shouts, but he was roaring now. ‘You are grounded for breaking the Covenant!’

‘You didn’t even let me explain!’

‘Nothing you can say can exonerate you.’ He pointed at me and his hand was shaking. ‘This time, you
will
be punished. The rules also apply to you. I made a mistake in being lenient last time.’ He turned to walk away but I shouted after him.

‘You can’t exile me, not without a hearing!’

My dad spun and his eyes flashed. ‘Can’t I?’ He murmured something low and deep, something even I didn’t quite hear. I didn’t realize right away what he was doing, not until the hair prickled on the back of my neck.

Then I knew. He was changing the permissions on his dragonsmoke.

Our home is encircled by my father’s dragonsmoke, which is both a territory mark and a protective barrier. Humans cross it easily, but a dragon can cross the dragonsmoke of another dragon only with explicit permission.

Exiled dragons were surrounded and trapped by my dad’s dragonsmoke.

Guess who was getting locked in.

I pivoted, hauled open the door to the corridor, but his dragonsmoke shimmered before me like a wall of glass. I plunged my hand into it, not really believing that he would barricade me in the apartment.

The touch burned.

I pulled back with lightning speed.

I swore, whirled to face him, and slammed the door. I don’t think I’ve ever been so furious in my life. We glared at each other, both livid, both shimmering blue around our perimeters, hovering on the cusp of change. The air crackled between us.

We’d never come this close to an actual dragon battle before, but I recognized that my dad wasn’t in the mood to back down. My hand wasn’t really hurt, but I’d felt the singe of the dragonsmoke and knew that if I tried to cross it, I’d be fried alive.

‘Fine.’ I marched to my room, slamming the door so hard that two drawings fell off my bulletin board.

I dropped all my stuff and threw myself across the bed, letting myself cry. My mom was gone! My dad didn’t care.

Would she ever come back?

I felt sick that she might not. When would I see her again?

I turned Rafferty’s ring in my hands, not daring to put it on. I didn’t even know all of its powers, but I knew better than to mess with it.

I wasn’t, after all, having the luckiest day of my life.

‘
Zoë?
’ Even in old-speak, I could hear the wariness in my dad’s tone.

‘
I have homework
,’ I snarled back in kind. ‘
Leave me alone
.’

And he did.

No doubt about it, this was going to be the worst birthday ever.

* * *

There are good things that have changed since my dragon powers turned up last spring. And there are some seriously less than great things, too. To call my transformation a mixed blessing would be an understatement.

I keep track of my dragon observations, primarily because of one exchange I’d had with Jared this past summer. I’d sent him a message when I couldn’t stand it any longer, offering to take him for a dragon flight in exchange for his lending me his copy of the only known book on the
Pyr
.

He’d written back immediately, which had made me crazy with hope. At least until I’d read the message:

And that had been it.

Two sentences sum total from him since April.

He hadn’t replied to any other messages. There’d been, um, a few from me.

I tried not to find this too depressing.

On the other hand, in May he had released a new song on his band’s site called ‘Snow Goddess,’ which I dared to imagine was about me. It was haunting and evocative and romantic as could be.

I’ve only listened to it twelve hundred and sixty-two times, according to the last displayed count on my messenger. It’s a bit compulsive about tracking those kinds of things. Me, I would have just said I’d listened to it a lot.

Mixed messages seemed to be Jared’s specialty. Leave it to me to fall for a guy who is mysterious and keeps his distance. I seem to specialize in long shots.

It
was
Jared’s style to push me and to dare me. It was also his tendency to be right about dragon stuff. Not to belabor the point, but he has read the book, which gives him an edge over me.

And the fact is that I’m the only female dragon shifter, known among us
Pyr
as the Wyvern. Theoretically, this should give me a bonus pack of powers – but there being only one Wyvern at a time was seriously hampering my ability to even find out what those powers were supposed to be. The past Wyvern hadn’t exactly left her diary to me.

But Jared was right in that sooner or later I’m going to die – sooner if the Mages get their way – because we dragons are just long-lived, not immortal. If all worked as it should, there would be another Wyvern born then. And she wouldn’t have any more of a clue than I did as to how the whole Wyvern role and responsibility worked. I could do a service to the future of my kind by creating a guidebook.

I’d started documenting what I did know, compiling lists on my messenger. Before that message from Jared, I’d already begun a number of digital illustrations, inspired by boot camp, and I had a lot of lists on the go as well. Now I had a big honking file, called …

Ready?

On Becoming the Wyvern.

Not too snappy, but it got the job done.

Here’s an excerpt for your entertainment: