The Silver Moon Elm (2 page)

Anyway, Skip had promised to be on his best behavior. They were off to a good start. In this trip to her grandfather Crawford’s cabin—Scratch that, she reminded herself ruefully, it’s not Grandpa’s anymore, it’s Mom and Dad’s—so far, Skip Wilson had been a perfect gentleman, complimenting the girls on their fashionable autumn coats, thanking Catherine for giving them all a ride, and even making nice with Eddie. That last part was no small feat, since the two of them had started their sophomore year at Winoka High at each other’s throats.

The year had gotten off to an awful start, she had to admit. In a mere two months, her world had churned violently. Not only had Eddie made an ill-advised (and ultimately failed) attempt at “coming of age” as a beaststalker by attacking Jennifer, but a promising relationship with Skip had been cut short, Susan had gotten hurt, Catherine had nearly been trampled to death, Skip had beaten Eddie into unconsciousness, her mother had been hospitalized…and worst of all, her grandfather Crawford had been murdered.

Not just murdered by anyone. By his own granddaughter Evangelina—a half-sister Jennifer hadn’t even known she had until just recently. The young woman had been beyond insane. Evangelina was an abandoned, disturbed, and deeply vengeful dragon-spider hybrid. Only just before she died, when confronted with new emotions such as love and mercy, did she show a glimpse of humanity.

Too late for her now, Jennifer mused. And too late for Grandpa. Consumed in thought, she barely heard Susan’s voice in the backseat, a soft complaint about the cold—then a muffled giggling as Eddie and Skip both tickled their friend warm. But not too late for us.

Susan’s giggles burst into a whoop of alarm as Skip’s hand strayed too high from her ribs. “Hey! Those aren’t ticklish!”

“Accident!” he protested, raising his palms and smiling nervously as Jennifer’s head whipped around. She tried to give him a hard stare, but Susan’s continued chuckling forced her to face front again. You can’t get mad at him for flirting with other girls, she chastised herself. Not if he’s not your boyfriend anymore. She swallowed hard and lifted the collar of her coat up against her ears.

Catherine noticed the movement. “You want me to pull over and raise the top?”

“It is November.” A sudden bad mood made for a harsh tone.

“But it’s a convertible!” Susan objected as Catherine pulled the Mustang gently into the breakdown lane. “You can’t put the roof up on a convertible! It’s sacrilege!”

“It’s sixteen degrees!” Jennifer snapped, pointing at the digital display on the polished maple dashboard. “You just said yourself it’s chilly!”

“Yeah, but I’m getting warmer.” Her best friend snuggled up against Eddie, and did not protest when Skip brought his right hand back down over her slight shoulders and long black curls. The car came to a full stop, and silence descended upon them all.

It took exactly twenty-three seconds for the convertible top of the Mustang to extend itself and settle into position. Jennifer knew this because she counted each one off by grinding her tongue between her teeth while she stared at the scene in the backseat. Meanwhile, Catherine whistled a jaunty tune at the steering wheel; Eddie focused on the nearby speed limit sign with an embarrassed shade on his cheeks; Susan had the decency to look down with fluttering lashes; and Skip stared right back at Jennifer with calm blue-green eyes as he teased Susan’s opposite earlobe between thumb and forefinger.

Jerk. She briefly considered reaching back and tearing out his jugular. He just can’t resist a good confrontation. Or a bad one.

Finally, Susan gently brushed away his hand. “Skip, stop it.”

Jennifer’s squint shifted to the right. Nice of you to notice it bothered me.

Eddie’s cough was obviously fake. “Wow, Catherine, it really warms up fast with that roof up. Thanks.”

The non sequitur irritated Jennifer. “Oh, shut up, Eddie.”

Catherine put a soft hand on her shoulder, and her lean Egyptian features closed in for a whisper. “Easy does it. You can’t have global harmony if you bust up your friends on the car ride there.”

The older girl’s voice soothed Jennifer. She relaxed, curled up a corner of her mouth, and tossed a casual glance back at Skip. “If you get a hand back under her shirt, don’t be surprised if it doesn’t find much.”

Skip and Catherine burst out laughing as Susan gasped. “That’s not fair!”

“Oh, it’s fair,” Catherine countered as she accelerated the car back onto the highway. “If you flirt with a girlfriend’s ex, she gets to make rude and superficial remarks about you. It’s part of the code.”

Susan appealed to the boys, eyebrows high in desperation. “No, really, it’s not fair! Jennifer’s got perfect everythings, and have you seen her mom? Of course she’s going to have bigger—”

“So anyway, how much longer until we’re at…wherever we’re going?” Eddie asked, even redder than he had been before.

“We’re almost at her family’s farm,” Skip answered before Jennifer or Catherine could say anything.

“The family farm? You’ve been to Jenny’s grandpa’s place?”

No one answered; there was no point in denying it. Skip had been to the farm weeks ago, when Jonathan Scales invited him there to talk about Evangelina. After all, she was his half-sister as well—the daughter of Jonathan Scales and Dianna Wilson.

Eddie turned to Jennifer with a hurt expression. “You always told me no one besides family was allowed at your grandpa’s place.”

“Um, that’s not true. Catherine’s been there lots of times.” How is that an answer? she asked herself before plunging forward. “It’s sort of a dragon hideout. Anyway, er, Skip, er, didn’t stay long.”

“Is that where Crescent Valley is?” Susan interrupted helpfully. “At the farm?”

“Sort of. It’s…close by.” Why am I being evasive? We’re all going there soon enough. “It’s kinda hard to explain. You’ll see.”

The car swerved. Alarmed, Jennifer looked over at Catherine, who was clutching her right shoulder. “You okay?”

“It’s getting kinda hard to keep this shape,” her friend replied through gritted teeth. “Normally I’d’ve changed by now…”

Since it was almost noon, she could not easily see the moon in the sky. But it occurred to Jennifer that her father had left their house in Winoka earlier this morning—like most weredragons, he was compelled by the crescent moon to change shape. Only she among her kind, and Skip among his, were able to decide when and where they morphed.

“Oh, that’s…”

“You do not,” Susan commented, “look well.”

Jennifer resisted the urge to grab the wheel. “Pull over!”

Catherine did not argue. She whipped open the door and tumbled out of the car even before it had completely stopped. Jennifer followed her friend into the ditch and picked up the shoes, jacket, yellow pullover, and faded jeans as they were shed and tossed to the ground.

“Wow,” she heard Skip mutter back in the car.

“Grow up!” she shot back, trying to interpose herself between the gawking boys and her friend, who was slowly easing into her new shape.

Except for her father, Jennifer had never watched someone else change into a dragon. It was fascinating, though brief after the first (quite painful) time. Tramplers like Catherine were one of three distinct dragon breeds. They were powerfully built, with only rudimentary wings but terrific musculature and impressive nose horns. A scarlet fire burned behind their eyes, and many had what Jennifer privately thought of as “peacock scales”…green under most lights, but with hints of yellow and blue when the sun or moon were right.

When Catherine was finished, she showed two rows of sharp teeth. “Looks like you get to drive us the rest of the way there, Jennifer.”

“Oh! Um, sure—”

“No, wait, I can drive! I have my learner’s permit and Jennifer doesn’t.” Susan shrugged out of the backseat while calling out the window.

Catherine wrinkled her nose. “Um, no offense, Susan, but—”

“But she just met you this morning and trusts me more than your little piece of paper. Return to your station in the backseat, trollop.”

Susan grinned back at Jennifer and settled down. “Fine. Eddie, our friend Jennifer is colder than the weather. Care to warm me up?”

That was enough for Eddie, who quickly opened his door, scrambled away from Susan, raced around the back of the idling Mustang, and slipped into the passenger seat.

“Hmmph! Fine. Skip, you’ll do…”

“I’ll do what?” With a traitorous grin, he pushed Susan over into the spot Eddie had occupied. “Keep your distance, before you get us both into more trouble.”

The grimace of hurt and anger was gone so quickly, Jennifer wondered if she’d imagined it on Susan’s face. She forced her mind back on track and settled into the driver’s seat. “Fine advice,” she said with faux enthusiasm. She turned the key in the ignition. The resulting sound was terrifying.

“Um, Jennifer, the engine’s already started.”

“Also fine advice. Thank you, Eddie. Let’s go. Catherine, flap those wings hard and try to keep up!”

She gunned the engine, and the Mustang spun gravel into the air as it thrust back onto the highway.

“Geez, won’t people see her? I mean, it’s broad daylight!” Susan gaped out the rear window at the winged shape that glided behind them. Every few hundred yards, a giant hind leg would smash into the ground, propelling its owner farther.

Jennifer shook her head. She had learned that most people did not see dragons—not because dragons were invisible or had any special mental powers, but because it was just too darn difficult for the average person to admit that things like dragons, and giant spiders, and soldiers who devoted their lives to slaying such things, could exist. Wow, great special effects, what movie are they shooting? Or, Huh, I must not have shaken the flu like I thought. Or, Whoa, is the Air Force testing new funny colored jets around here or what?

After that initial burst, she kept her speed down so that Catherine could keep up—the trampler had a hard time moving much faster than forty-five miles per hour. Fully adult tramplers could gallop much faster, Jennifer knew—she and her father had been on hunts where tramplers had moved in coordinated, predatory herds that topped sixty or more miles per hour. But she stayed patient with Catherine. After all, there was no hurry. This was her first time behind the wheel of a car, and despite the automatic transmission, she was anxious.

“What if the state patrol stops us?” asked Eddie, voicing Jennifer’s primary concern. “I mean, we’re breaking the law here.”

“Correction: Jennifer’s breaking the law,” Skip said. “We are innocent bystanders. Hostages, really, to her ferocious temper.”

“It’s just to the cabin,” Jennifer answered. “Maybe five more miles, tops.” Her nerves did not stop jangling, however.

“So how will we get home?” Susan’s tone was more concerned than accusatory. “It’ll still be a crescent moon for a few days. We’re not staying that long, are we?”

There was no easy answer to this question. Nobody offered to take Jennifer’s place, not even Susan. Driving the rural route the last few miles to their destination was one thing; braving state highways for the long trip back to Winoka was something else again.

“Let’s worry about that when we go back.” Jennifer decelerated to take a right turn onto an unpaved county road. The ground shifted uneasily beneath the tires, as if the earth itself were aware of her moving violation. This was dumb; why didn’t they let Susan drive? Sure, that would have been technically illegal, too, but at least her friend had had lessons. And a police officer would probably look more kindly on a learner’s permit than a blank stare.

The Mustang rolled agreeably enough along the dirt highway, shifting abruptly an inch or two left or right just often enough to keep Jennifer’s knuckles white on the steering wheel. Catherine’s winged form sailed across the potato field to their left, anticipating the farm, which would be just past that line of trees up ahead, and then around the bend where the wildflowers and grasses grew…

When the first of her grandfather’s enormous beehives emerged from the grassy knolls to their left, Jennifer let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. The neat hives lined the south lawn like buzzing sentry towers, and behind them were the fields of strange wildflowers and the herds of sheep, still faithfully maintained. Beyond them, the sparkling lake shimmered through the copses of maples, pines, and oaks to the north. Not far from its shore was the farmhouse: sprawling, white, green-shuttered, with a wraparound porch and more rocking chairs in sight than she could count. She knew the large porch and grill were in back, along with a larger barbeque pit for guests…and off to one side, the grave marker her mother and she had set up for Crawford Scales. Just a few steps from the marker, it was possible to fall into the lake, cool and with a taste of liquid diamonds.

The car stopped with a small, quick squeal of brakes at the end of the driveway, and as one the gang unsnapped their seat belts. “C’mon,” Jennifer said. “I’ll show you round the back. Stay behind me, because—”

Skip almost shoved her aside in his rush to get around the corner of the “cabin” (as the Scales family still affectionately called it). “Whatever. What’s the big freaking—whoa!” His feet stuck to the bed of pine needles that lined the gravel driveway. Eddie and Susan pulled up short behind him, and Jennifer heard Susan let out a small whimper.

A few feet from the back porch, a pit that would have swallowed the Mustang was filled with fire and the delicious smell of roasting sheep. Around the smoke-filled edges, in murmured conversation punctuated with raucous laughter, were a dozen dragons. As one, their necks craned and they took in the visitors with reptilian coolness.

“Hey, Joseph,” Jennifer called out after an uncomfortable silence.

Joseph, an eighteen-year-old lavender creeper who looked after the farm for the Scales, snorted. “Hey, Jennifer. You brought friends.”

“Yeah.” She momentarily reconsidered the wisdom of bringing them all here. After a brief surge of anxiety, she straightened her shoulders. “Did Catherine already show?”

His dark, scaled claw pointed to the porch doors. “Inside.”