Origin Exposed: Descended of Dragons, Book 2 (16 page)

“It’s one of them, isn’t it? The dragons from the crater with Brandubh?”

I could only nod my head.

“Dammit, Stella!” The volume, the fury in his voice was unexpected, and I jumped. “What the hell are you thinking? Who is he? Are you seeing him, too? Have we gotten nowhere?” He stood and backed away from me. “Am I still competing for you?” he asked, then began to pace within the confines of his room. “Is this about power, Stella—who’s the biggest alpha male? It’s not Gresham now, but some male dragon I have to compete with?”

“What? Wait. No,” I shook my head. “I don’t care about that. It’s not like that.”

“What’s it like, then?”

“God, Ewan. He’s my cousin. The three dragons from the crater that day are my mother’s family.”

“Fuck,” he said and sat roughly onto his bed.

“You can say that again.”

“Fuck,” he breathed.

B
y Thursday
, I was looking forward to seeing my uncle Gaspare again. Classes that day were both fun and insightful, Ewan seemed to be working toward accepting my reality (at least his face wasn’t frowning and broody every time I looked at him), and a cool breeze provided relief from the day’s heat.

I should’ve known things were too good to be true.

As we left our last class for the day, Timbra’s P.I.A. gave a loud alert from her shoulder bag.

“What is it, Fawn?” she asked the device.

“Timbra, you’ve received a request to report to the registrar’s office at once.”

She looked to the group and most of us shrugged. We had no idea what was going on. We hadn’t received the same requests.

“Do you know why?” Timbra asked.

“Your account indicates you’ve been dis-enrolled from Radix,” Fawn intoned. “Perhaps the two have some correlation.”

“Dis-enrolled,” she repeated. “By whom?”

“Mr. Russet Redfern,” the device replied.

The blood drained from Timbra’s face and her pert ears fell with it. She was stunned, bereft. Her mouth opened, but she didn’t move or speak.

“I’ll go with you,” Boone said and ran his arm across her back. “I’ll talk to him. We’ll get this sorted out.”

“No,” she croaked and shook herself. “No. I’ll go. I made the decision to be with you. I’ll face the consequences.”

“But…but... You can’t leave The Root,” Layla said. “No one gets
in
The Root. Surely he wouldn’t pull you out; deny you this great opportunity just because you’re dating Boone.”

“Oh, he would.” Timbra’s voice, her posture, everything about her was flat. Defeated. “And he obviously has.”

T
imbra returned to her room
, and I knocked before entering through our shared bathroom.

“Come in.” She had opened a large navy blue trunk, and its gold locking device rattled each time she threw something into it.

“What are you doing?” I knew what she was doing, but couldn’t accept it.

“Packing. Leaving. He really did it,” Timbra said as she transferred a stack of shirts from her dresser to the trunk.

“You can’t leave. No.” Tears stung my eyes and spilled onto my face before the words left my mouth.

“It’s okay, Stella,” she said. “I don’t really belong here anyway. I mean, how can a doe defend Thayer? We’re not even a very magical people. How can I ever put to use what we’re learning? My mom never attended The Root. I was shocked when my father agreed to let me come. He’s pretty old fashioned, you may have noticed.”

“I’ll talk to him. Maybe he’ll listen to someone else? Maybe if he got to know Boone?” I was reaching, and we both knew it.

“It’s over, sweetie,” she said. “There’s nothing to be done about it.”

“No,” I whispered and fell into her chair.

She set down the picture frame she’d been holding. “You can visit me anytime, Stell. That’s the great thing about tracing. Need your friend? Just pop over after class.” Her ears stiffened with anger. “My father’s had me banned from campus, so I’m afraid I can’t join you at Sabre or along the food court.”

“And Boone?” I asked.

“I’ll end it with Boone. For good. There’s no way it can work, my father’s right.”

“Oh, Timbra. I’m so sorry.”

She twisted her mouth, tried not to cry. “It’ll be fine. In time. You’re going to be late.”

“Late? Oh! My meeting with Gaspare. He’ll understand.”

“I will not have you late to your meeting with the PM on my account. Get.” When I didn’t move she cocked her head at me. “I’m serious. Go. I promise we can meet on Saturday for lunch. You can come out to my house, check up on me.”

“Okay,” I conceded and stood to leave. “I love you, Timbra Redfern. And I hate this whole thing.”

She wrapped her willowy body around me and squeezed. “Me too.”

“
S
omething’s
different about you today,” Gaspare said and stepped away from me. We were studying the body compositions of various animals so that I could better control their forms. Though I could manage at least the basics of flight in my dragon form, manipulating smaller birds was a real challenge. My natural inclination was to operate them like I would my dragon, which was gross over-maneuvering and caused me to flail wildly through the air. I suffered more than a few hard landings, and had the scrapes and bruises to prove it.

Gaspare searched my face, scanned my body. “Have you been hurt?”

I gave a sad laugh. “Not in the way you mean.”

He set down the model he’d been holding. “What’s going on?”

I felt stupid telling such an important man about my problems at school. About my BFF’s breakup with her forbidden boyfriend. “Nothing important. Just some stuff at The Root. It’s not important.”

“Is it important to you?” he asked and sank onto a tufted leather ottoman.

“Of course. She’s my best friend. She’s wonderful, and so is Boone. The whole thing is bullshit and I cannot believe her dad pulled her out of The Root.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Gaspare said, and held up his hands. His blue eyes gleamed with repressed mirth at my information dump. “Start from the beginning. Who is ‘she’?”

“Sorry. Timbra Redfern. She’s my suite mate and my dearest friend. Her dad’s Russet Redfern. I met him once. He’s an overbearing asshole that treats Timbra like chattel—Oh. My goodness. I’m sorry. I tend to lose control of my mouth when I get excited.”

He laughed and waved away my concern. “Russ Redfern? I’ve known Russ for a long time. Why has he pulled his daughter from Radix?”

I told him Boone and Timbra’s entire story—about their forbidden but inescapable love.

“I can see why Russ was so upset,” he said. When I bristled he stopped me. “But, I’ve learned a thing or two about taboo relationships.” He raised an eyebrow at me. “They can have gloriously unexpected outcomes. They can result in gifts you never imagined, but treasure above all others.”

He was referring to me, to my parents’ forbidden love.

My heart jumped toward him and my body followed. I squeezed him in a hug so tight and unexpected that he grunted.

“I’m sorry about your friend,” he said.

I twisted my lips and nodded my head in thanks.

“Now let’s get to work. I thought today we could work on flying.”

“
T
hat’s all right
, Stella. Try again.” Gaspare had been extremely patient with me as I attempted to refine my aerial skills.

“Ugh!” I growled, beyond frustrated. I couldn’t get past the neophytic and mechanical winging I’d first developed. Getting airborne was no problem; neither was going forward, but compared to Gaspare’s effortless and beautiful aeronautics, my movements were crude and stunted.

“Listen,” he said. “I know you’re used to excelling at whatever you try, and that’s a good thing. But when it comes to flying, you can’t think it into perfection. You can’t pull all-nighters until you memorize it. Flying is an instinct, a calling; it’s a release of control.”

“I’m trying,” I whined. “I really am.”

“I know you are,” he said. His steel-blue eyes were kind but determined. “And maybe that’s your problem—you’re over-thinking it. What you must do is just…let go. As an omni you have the natural ability to change forms mid-flight. I cannot express enough the usefulness of this property in a fight.

“But it’s so much more than an offensive weapon. The freedom to meld one form to another is something I could never describe to you. Like learning to allow your instincts to guide your flight instead of your brain, it’s indescribable. It’s something only you can discover.”

He was right, of course. My way certainly wasn’t working. But ‘letting go’ mid-flight hundreds of feet above the ground was…well, it was about as hard as it sounds.

“You’ll get it,” Gaspare assured me. “You’ll get it. You just need practice.”

But I wasn’t feeling very hopeful.

“When do I learn to breathe fire?” I asked.

“What?”Gaspare’s head turned to the side as he tried to determine my meaning. “Breathe fire? Ohhhh. Yes. I hadn’t thought of that. It’s not something I can help you with.”

“Why not?”

“Well, I have no frame of reference.”

“But as an omni, you can change into a dragon.”

“That’s true. But a dragon’s fire is a magic that belongs solely to…her. I can take the form, it’s true, but I cannot produce a flame.”

“No kidding,” I breathed. “Well, how will I learn? Then again, being bi-species, maybe I don’t even have the ability.”

“Besides discovering it yourself, I’m afraid I can’t help you. It’s unfortunate you have no one to serve as a mentor—at least in this.”

“Yes,” I said. “That’s too bad.”

I
arrived
at the Drakontos’ cabin to find it eerily quiet.

“Bay?” I called, toeing around the property. “Uncle Eiven? Stryde?”

I wandered outside the wooden structure and inspected the dusty fire pit and Bay’s prolific garden. Just as I reached to touch what would become a lovely purple heirloom tomato, the turbulence of something huge and fast overhead sent my body rigid with fear. A warm, wet substance trailed down my wrist, and I looked to find the fruit squashed in my hand.
What a waste
, I thought and dove for the fertile dirt.

With my back to the ground, I could better see what caused such a commotion. Three dragons the size of Cessnas rolled and swooped gracefully through the blue sky. I envied the ease with which they navigated flight.

Eiven spotted me and dove low. A helpless yelp escaped my open mouth as I crab-crawled away from the gigantic red dragon closing in on me at high speed. Closer…closer.
Too close!

Just before impacting the ground near the house, Eiven rolled and stood on two human feet. I heaved a sigh of relief and fell onto my butt in the dirt.

Eiven snagged a pair of work pants lying near the shed and was clothed when he exited the other side of the dilapidated building. Bay followed, her landing no less breathtaking. The shed must’ve served as an informal dressing room, for Bay aimed for the shanty, too, and found a worn cotton dress.

As Stryde hit the ground his muscular human form rippled into existence. He wasn’t in as much of a hurry to find his clothes as Eiven and Bay had been. I suspected he was showing off as he strutted toward the outbuilding. Instead of grabbing his jeans right away he stretched long tanned arms above his head and arched his chiseled back. I caught him watching from the corner of his eye to see if I watched.
O-kay…

“Stella, what a nice surprise,” Bay said. “We were just getting some exercise. Come on in the house, dear.” I found the same spot at the kitchen table I’d occupied the last time.

“Back for the beer, eh?” Eiven winked and the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes squeezed happily into each other.

“Oh, that does sound great,” I said. “Thank you.”

Eiven busied himself with pint glasses and Bay twisted her gray hair into a loose bun at the crown of her head. Stryde had managed to locate his clothes and strolled inside, too.

“Actually,” I continued. “I…I have some questions. About myself. About dragons. And, well, since I don’t know any other dragons, I hoped you could help me.”

“Of course we can,” Bay said at the same time Stryde said, “What do you want to know?”

My thin gold bracelets clinked lightly together as I ran my fingers over them, gathering my thoughts. “I’m having trouble flying,” I finally said. All three of my relatives cocked their heads so similarly it was comical. “I mean, of course I can fly. You’ve seen me do that. But I can’t maneuver as gracefully as you all do.”

“It takes time. You’ve just begun. Don’t worry about that,” Eiven said and passed me a pint of the amber nectar.

“There’s more. I’ve accepted that I’m a dragon, embraced it, even. But I have no idea how to breathe fire. And, well, that’s a basic function of someone like us, I’d think. Can you help me?”

“I’d be honored to help you,” Stryde said formally.

Bay and Eiven eyed each other, and Bay hastily cleared her throat. “We’ll all help,” she said. “Be glad to.”

“
T
his is more
difficult than I thought it’d be
,” Eiven said after attempting to explain the technical logistics of dragon fire. “
I’ve been calling fire for so long it’s second nature.”

“
For me, too.
” Bay’s lovely but fierce brown dragon was the color of a bomber jacket. “
Perhaps we should try to pinpoint from where it first originates so we can better describe it to her.
”

“
Mmm. A good idea
,” Eiven agreed, and Stryde nodded his onyx head.

The three dragons took turns firing columns of fire across the open sky. It was a good thing their hideout was so secluded. There was no way the pyrotechnics could be dismissed if we were in town.

Watching them experiment was an experience in itself. Not only were they fearsome and exotically beautiful, they were having fun. Eiven playfully shot a plume at Stryde, who whipped around in fury. He snarled angrily at his dad, who threw his head back and barked a laugh.
Now there’s a sight I never thought to see,
I thought.
A chuckling dragon. Sounds like the morning after bad Chinese.

Eiven’s dry laugh wheezed and I realized he’d heard my thoughts. I grinned at him, something that came surprisingly easy even in my dragon form.

“
I think I’ve pinpointed it
,” called Bay. “
Yes. That’s definitely it
.” She coughed after a singe sputtered and died in her great mouth. “
I’ll meet you at that clearing. I think she’ll have more luck if she’s not concentrating on flying and finding her flame at the same time
.”

“
T
he important thing to understand
,”
Bay said once we’d gathered in the clearing, “
is that you’re manipulating two separate mechanisms. One to supply the fuel, and the other to ignite it.
”

Eiven and Stryde nodded their heads in comprehension. I nodded, too, though I hoped she’d expound on her statement.

“
Ah. Okay. I assume locating the fuel line would be a good place to start
?” I asked.

“
Precisely
,” Bay said. “
This is something you’ll only ever find in your form, dear, do you understand?”
I made an attempt to shrug my dragon shoulders, but the movement was jerky and inadequate. Luckily she went on,
“A dragon’s fire is magic—extraordinary, singular magic, for only a dragon possesses it.
”

This I’d heard before. “
Go on
,” I said.

“
When walking on two feet you’ll not have access to your fire. No other species can acquire or replicate it. ‘Tis a magic all our own,
” she said with gravity. “
Dragons’ magic.
”

“
It’s one of the reasons we’re superior, feared
,” intoned Stryde, who seemed far more at home in his dragon skin than that of a man. “
But also the reason we’ve been desired as weapons.
”

“
I see.
” I nodded soberly.

Bay shook herself. It was obvious that teaching me about fire without getting bogged down in the past was extremely difficult. “
Deep inside your dragon lies this magic
,”
she said. “
Untapped until you seek it out, until you draw it into your powerful chest and choose to expel it.
”

“
Maybe I don’t have it
,” I mused. “
Maybe because I’m only half, the dragon magic didn’t pass on to me
.”

“
The only way to know is to try
.” Bay nodded her encouragement.

“
Okay.
” Her descriptions were helpful. I searched within myself for some great magic lying in wait for my request. I ran an imaginary hand over those nuclei of power I’d already discovered—my chakra, my heart, my mind. But it wasn’t there.

A rumble low in my stomach alerted me to hunger pangs. I ducked my head in embarrassment. I really wasn’t prepared to think about what dragons ate. No thank you. I much preferred waiting to have a sandwich back at The Root.

When I looked up from my traitorous belly I found Eiven’s eyes alight with pride. “
You’ve found it,
” he said reverently.

“
Huh
?”

“
It’s there
,” Stryde said. “
The magic. Stored deep in your bowels. Can you access it again?”

“
I’ll try,
” I said and mentally dove to the depths of my scaled belly. It was full, ready, like if I just squeezed hard enough something would shoot straight up through my esophagus. I gave a mental “
Whoop
!” at my success, and the three other dragons cheered.

“
Excellent
,
dear
,” Bay said. “
Now to ignite it
.”

That sounded more dangerous. I looked to each of them nervously, but their faces were supportive, expectant. It was the best chance I had at learning to manipulate the form, the magic I was born with. No reason not to take it. I released the breath I’d been holding since Bay uttered the word ‘ignite.’ “
Let’s do this
,” I said.

Bay had difficulty explaining the second component. After several attempts, she let Eiven take the reins.

“
Have you ever seen a flint rock
?” he asked, his red scales glowing like banked embers in the setting sun.

“
I have
, yes.”

“
Good. Imagine your throat is made of flint.
”

“
O-kayyyy.
” That was easier said than done.

“
Just go with it
,” he said with a reptilian grin. I nodded. “
Now, if your throat were made of flint and you squeezed it forcefully together what would happen
?”

“
Ah, well, I guess it might produce a spark
?”