Emergence of Fire Page 10

  The other Society members shifted, expecting the prize. One man raised his glass and peered into it as if trying to visualize piles of cash. Judging from the cars outside, they didn't need it.

  I wanted to vomit.

  The dragons needed the treasure. The Society, who had already purchased the Water Company, didn't.

  "What about protecting people?" Sven whispered next to me. He said that to himself, but our proximity left nothing secret.

  "How do you propose we move forward?" one warrior asked.

  "And how sure are you that there are dragons here?"

  "My scouts discovered the cave system months ago," he said in a tone that warned everyone to stay quiet, or else. Mr. Olsen wanted to be on the top of everything. "It's a mostly undiscovered cave system with the river entrance guarded by the previous owners of the Water Company, the Mustersons." Mr. Olsen paced around the table, hands behind his back, and smiled. "The official story is that I purchased the Company from them, but they were both dragons."

  The guy with the glass set it down, making water slosh on the table. Silence fell.

  Mr. and Mrs. Musterson?

  I hadn't seen them much since they stuck to the Managers' House or in the Company offices, but they'd run the Water Company for as long as I remembered. I also remembered that Mrs. Musterson always looked great and the ladies of Olivia were always jealous that she never got wrinkles. Mr. Musterson was always too good to hang out with the good old boys in town and kept to himself. Beyond that, no one talked about them much. They'd come from a city somewhere.

  "Were?" the woman asked, loud enough to make everyone pay attention to her.

  "Were," Mr. Olsen said with a smile. "Once I realized they were living in this house, I got inside and slew them both. Then I had my lawyers draft false wills to transfer the ownership of this Water Company to me. No one will ever know the difference."

  Sven reached out and grabbed my arm. He was shaking.

  I wanted to say something to comfort him. Now he'd learned again that the Wiglaf Society might not be the angels he thought they were. But he still didn't know the dragons might not be as bad as he thought. My heart ached for him. Going through such a thing was bad enough once, but having to endure it twice was even worse.

  "Do you have proof?" one man asked.

  "I slew them as they slept," Mr. Olsen said. "My Gem did not lie. They are buried further down the river. Have your staff confirm that they were dragons."

  Sven made a gagging noise. Bile rose in my throat, too.

  Then he whispered something that chilled me to the bone.

  "At least they were dragons."

  Wrenching my arm away from Sven, I focused instead on the happenings below. I knew he was just trying to make himself feel better about this whole thing, but the hurt went further than I could imagine.

  "How brave," the woman said. She reminded me of Sofia, having to do more than the others to claw to the top. "You slew two dragons in human form as they slept."

  Mr. Olsen glared at her and nodded to the chair, ordering her to sit. She didn't. "Once you have your proof, we are launching a search and rescue for that trapped couple underground. All who take part in this raid get an equal amount of whatever treasure is down there. And do not question my bravery again. I have fought many, many dragons in full form. You should all know that."

  Mr. Olsen reached down and grabbed a long, black case off the floor. He set it on the table and opened it. Inside, a sword with encrusted red Gems shined in the kitchen light. Mr. Olsen raised it. The thing was ancient, with craftsmanship beyond what I'd seen before, and the metal looked as if it had tarnished and been polished many, many times before.

  I went to back away, but the Gems didn't shine. I wasn't close enough to activate them.

  "This sword once belonged to Beowulf himself," Mr. Olsen said. "It is with this that I slew my first dragon as a young man." He pointed it at each Slayer as he spoke. "I was the lone brave fighter. A coward, I am not. This meeting is now dismissed. After you have got proof that the former owners of this company were dragons, and therefore had to be hiding something, we set into the underground and we slay every single monster we find."

  "That's Beowulf's sword?" Sven whispered in awe.

  But I couldn't listen anymore. Now I understood Adler's insistence that I mature as fast as possible. She'd known the Mustersons had gone missing and that they might have fallen victim to the new Slayer family in town. Once again, she'd seen history repeating itself.

  And Dirk—

  I had to get back to him and warn his parents about this. These guys didn't care that the dragons were also people. They reminded me of all the Normals who looked down on everyone who wasn't human. I used to be one. And now Sven had become one of them all over again.

  Pulling Sven back with gentle force—there was no way I could reveal my true nature to him now—I stood in the supply closet while he got up, making one of his knees pop.

  "Felicia, I have to go with them," he said. "I'll help you get your parents back. That's my promise to you." He took my arms, and this time his touch was tender. He now believed that yes, I was his girlfriend.

  "Your father killed two people as they slept?" I asked, shaking.

  "They were dragons. My father wouldn't kill people," Sven insisted. "He's tough, but he wants to protect people like you. He'll get your parents back from them and then you'll be reunited. Soon we'll make your town safe again."

  "But if there's a hoard underneath it somewhere, then the dragons must have been here for a while. I mean, none of us have died from strange causes. Except for the Mustersons." I wanted to break away from Sven and never come back. Tears threatened to spill. But if they did, I could tell Sven that I worried about my family.

  "You don't understand," Sven said, pulling me close and lowering his voice. "If even one person finds that hoard and steals from it, the dragons will take their revenge on everyone, including you. It's happened many times in the past."

  "It sounds like your father is after the treasure more than after any prisoners they have."

  "What else is he going to do with it?" Sven asked. I sensed he was scrambling to make this right. His mind didn't want to face the truth. "We need the money to continue fighting them."

  "But he was talking about business operations and profit. This is about money and prestige. Maybe the Wiglaf Society isn't what it used to be in the past? Or maybe there's more to it than you think and it's not about keeping the world safe. What if the dragons have some role to play?"

  "Felicia, I know you're scared, but you're not talking sense," Sven said. "Dragons have killed many people in the past." He was putting up a wall that my words couldn't penetrate. Without knowing the truth about me, there was no bringing him around.

  But if he knew—

  He wanted to impress his father—

  "I need to go," I said. "The papers are waiting." I pulled away from him and headed down the stairs, careful to stay silent.

  "Felicia," Sven said behind me.

  Sofia waited at the bottom of the stairs, close to the kitchen. Inside, the Slayers shuffled around. Being here was dangerous. The Olsens might not wear their Gems inside the house, but some Slayers would have come here with them. And that sword that Mr. Olsen had sported had them all over the handle. An image of him wielding it filled my mind.

  "Where are you going?" she asked.

  "I have to finish my shift," I said.

  "Did you and Sven have a fight?"

  It was that obvious, then. I said nothing and stormed out the door. Already, the fiery anger filled my body, roaring and searching for a place to go. My bike and the papers waited in the yard, and I picked it up and rode it off the Water Company grounds—the stolen grounds—as fast as I could.

  I scrambled, stuffing the rest of the papers in the orange boxes while looping back to the Machers' place. Tears flowed. Adler had made sure we'd continue the tradition of warring and killing each other all by taking Sven's
real memories—and him—away. I hadn't been able to restore them.

  It was possible I couldn't until I matured. My magic would be sporadic until then and out of my control. It could happen on its own, but I couldn't count on that, could I?

  I took twenty minutes to finish the route, even pedaling as fast as I could. Why was I bothering? Maybe it was a way to keep my sanity. I should have gone back to the Machers right away after finding out that a whole party of Slayers were ready to descend into the caves, and that there was no way I could go down there yet. That would involve revealing I'd done something they wouldn't approve of, but it might have saved my life.

  But when I get to the printing press, having still finished my shift in record time—the Machers hadn't returned yet. I knocked on the front door as well to find that no one was manning the press. It had finished printing papers for the day. I'd delivered them all. The Machers must still be looking to find Dirk a dragon-portioned breakfast. I imagined they'd driven to visit the butcher in the Olivia Town Market, who worked behind the counter six days per week. Their car was absent. Bacon and eggs would not suffice. How long would they take?

  Mrs. Macher planned to make breakfast for me once I had finished, and I'd done that around seven last week. Judging from the light, it must be six-thirty. They were shooting to get back around seven.

  And Dirk was still out in that barn. It stood dark against the orange early morning light. The sun made it look as if a fire were burning far behind it, which was fitting.

  Dropping my bike on the Machers' lawn, I ran for it.

  "Dirk? It's me. I finished the shift." How could I tell him that there were a dozen people in town who would kill him on sight? It wouldn't be an easy thing for him to swallow.

  Straw crunched as a big shape shifted inside. He grunted in approval and I opened the door.

  Dirk had turned to face me. I stood there in the doorway as he surveyed me with those red eyes. What could I say to him? The look on his face betrayed his curiosity over whatever had happened during my route. Or it was obvious that something had upset me. Sofia had seen it, too.

  "Your parents are out looking to get you breakfast," I said, unsure how to start. Maybe he'd stay safe in the barn. Slayers wouldn't think to search the surface for dragons—just the underground. But then a tsunami of emotion rose. I had to tell someone, anyone about my problems with Sven, about how I was losing the guy I'd fallen in love with through no fault of his own. "I went to the Water Company. And—"

  "Felicia?"

  I whirled.

  Sofia stood fifteen feet behind me, a look of concern on her face. But then her expression molded into one of horror as her gaze landed on the bronze dragon behind me. She'd followed me here, probably to ask why I wasn't hanging around to help prevent Sven from taking the Slayer glory instead of her, and now she knew about the dragon in the barn.

  "There's a dragon in there," Sofia said, backing away. "Why didn't you tell us?"

  "Sofia, don't say a word," I said.

  Behind me, Dirk grunted. What's going on, it meant. He backpedaled as far as he could go. Fear took over. Someone had discovered him and even without knowledge of the Slayers, he knew this couldn't end well.

  "There's a dragon in there," she said. "Father was right. Felicia, back away. What are you doing?" Her legs propelled her towards her own bicycle, which now laid next to mine.

  "He's not evil," I pleaded. "Leave him alone. Leave all of them alone, okay? If you want to be my friend—"

  But Sofia was no longer listening.

  Instead, she bolted for her bike with all the speed of a trained athlete. Boarding it, she pedaled down the dirt road and out of sight, leaving Dirk trapped in the barn to await his fate.

  Chapter Nine

  I had to stop her.

  Eager to become the family Slayer rather than Sven, she'd win brownie points by telling her father what she'd seen. Running after her and leaving Dirk behind, I picked up my bike and tried to will the sky to cloud and open. Anything to slow her down. Anything.

  Would she tell Sven? Probably not. Sofia wanted him distracted by a girlfriend. I was a tool to help keep him out of her way. I'd spent enough time around Tasha to realize what was happening. Maybe she wanted to come back with weapons and deliver the killing blow herself. Had she arrived with a crossbow, she would have tried already. Dirk might have to kill her.

  I couldn't let that happen to Sven.

  And I couldn't let Dirk die.

  Dirk grunted after me, but at this distance it was hardly audible. I realized I'd left the barn door open, but I prayed that no one would see around the Machers' house were they to drive past. His parents would wonder what happened and now he'd have trouble telling them. By running back I'd endangered them, too.

  "Sofia!" I shouted, pedaling after her.

  Sofia had a black bicycle that matched the style of the Slayers' cars. Rich. Powerful. Already, she'd almost made it to the corner of the road to make a right. I wished Dirk's parents would return. I could warn them and they might get him out of the barn.

  But they didn't. Right now I was on my own.

  "Sofia!" I shouted. Fear was cold. There was no magic to grasp there. I turned the corner, struggling to catch my breath. While farm work had helped get me fit, I was nothing compared to a Slayer-in-training. Sofia had me outpaced.

  She didn't indicate she'd heard me, which was worse than flipping me off and not looking back. She pedaled towards town with determination and desperation. It was her chance to get the validation she craved all her life and there was no way the friend of a dragon would steal that.

  This might also get Sven in trouble.

  Town stretched out ahead. I begged the sky to open, but it refused to obey. The sun rose over the horizon, blinding me. I blinked at the glare.

  Sofia had vanished.

  She must have turned down one of the town's many alleys. Pedaling faster and forcing my heart to work overtime, I searched the alleys to find no one. Sofia had already worked out a shortcut I hadn't thought of. What gave? I knew this town.

  But there was only one place she could go, and that was the Water Company. Sofia would get there before I did. Her superior bicycle and athleticism guaranteed that.

  With that thought, I stopped right in the middle of the street. A single car passed me in the other lane. The driver, an old man, gave me a dirty look for daring to be off the sidewalk.

  By the time I got there, she'd have told the other Slayers I was trying to hide a dragon. They might already arm themselves.

  And Sven would join them. That was if Sofia didn't take out Dirk herself. Either scenario could happen. If Sofia tried to act alone, I had a chance at stopping her...

  Pedaling again, I raced down Main Street and turned down Water Road. The Company towered ahead, surrounded by its fence. I glimpsed Sofia throwing her bike down on the lawn of the Manager's House—the house stolen from the rightful owners.

  I prayed for her to run around the house to the backyard where the shed of Slayer equipment was waiting. As if debating it, Sofia paused.

  "Please," I whispered. "Try to undercut them all and do this yourself."

  A second later, she bolted into the house.

  I swore as indecision swept over me. Sven was in there and he'd want to help me—so long as he didn't know what I was or what I was doing. I could tell him that my friend was a dragon, and I wasn't, but that might make me a traitor to humankind in his eyes. He'd lose all trust in me and I could never get near him again.

  And worse, he'd help to fight Dirk, something he never would have done before.

  I couldn't go in there.

  The decision tightened in my chest and made a pain explode there as my heart broke. Unless I cured him, Sven was gone.

  Dark shapes moved behind the curtains in the Olsen household as Sofia told them about Dirk. Already, they might gather weapons and getting a battle plan together. The only thing I could do now was save his life.

  Dirk wouldn't
want to fight. I knew my friend, and he hadn't even wanted to punch the bullies who used to torment him in junior high. That was something I understood. I didn't want to fight, either. But how would we get Dirk out of the barn? The doors might be too small to allow him to leave. His parents hadn't put him in the best place.

  It took all the effort I had to pedal my bike back to the Machers'. His parents hadn't returned yet, so I dumped it behind the house, making sure no black cars or BMW's were coming up behind me. Check. I hoped Slayers took a long time to get battle plans together and work out strategy. And since Mr. Olsen didn't think girls were worth anything, he might argue with Sofia for a while before deciding to believe her. My mind played every possible scenario in my mind as I staggered back to the barn, exhausted.

  Dirk waited inside, peering at me with those jewel-like eyes. Questions burned in them.

  "You have to hide somewhere else," I said, sliding the other door open with great effort. Why were my powers absent when I needed them most? "There are people who want to come here and kill you. Dragon Slayers bought the Water Company. No. They killed and took it from Mr. and Mrs. Musterson who were also dragon shifters. I found this out today and I'll explain it all to you later. See if you can squeeze out of the doors."

  Shock overtook Dirk's eyes. If he could, he'd face palm at missing such a news story. But then another question filled his eyes. Where could I hide him?

  "There's an entrance to the caves in the gravel quarry," I said. "If we move fast, we should be able to get there."

  Dirk nodded. It was all business now. I backed away from the barn doors and waited for him to squeeze his way out.

  But these doors were only big enough to allow two cows to walk inside, side by side—and the Machers didn't even keep animals anymore. The Machers didn't store tractors or big farm equipment inside, either. Dirk had staggered inside while in human form.

  With a mighty push, Dirk ducked and tried to squeeze his bronze form out of the double doors. He got head and spiny neck out into the open air and the sun reflected off his scales so much it cast little rainbows on the outer walls of the barn. But then his shoulders got stuck on the wood and he sent me a look of distress. This outbuilding was his prison.