Winging It

  She intended to stay.

  I hooted as I bounded into my own room, and shouted with joy. I didn’t care whether they heard me or not. It was ten past two when I crashed.

  I’d gotten the best birthday gift of all.

  And it hadn’t even made my list of top three.

  That night, I dreamed of Urd and Verdandi.

  It shouldn’t have surprised me.

  I felt chilled in the night, and rolled over. It was good to be back in my own bed and my own room. I sighed and opened my eyes, then blinked.

  The tree was back, growing out of the floor and through the opposite wall. Verdandi was knitting and Urd was spinning her spindle. They sat on either side of that dark pit of a well, the snow falling lightly all around them. The stars were out overhead, which made no sense, but there it was.

  As I watched, Urd put her drop spindle carefully aside. She took the bucket I’d ridden before, the one with a rope around the handle, and lowered it into the well. She let a lot of rope go before the bucket splashed far below.

  She glanced up then and I thought I saw her smile inside the shadows of her hood. Tough to tell if someone’s smiling or grimacing when she has a skull face. Then she drew the bucket up with her bony hands. When it cleared the top of the well and Urd bent to grab the handle, Verdandi put her knitting aside. She straightened her glasses, then got to her feet. There was a ladle tucked beneath her stool, and it shone as if it was made of sterling silver.

  Maybe it was made of moonlight.

  She dipped it into the bucket and withdrew a sparkling scoop of water. She poured it carefully over the root of the tree, taking care to dampen all the bark.

  She repeated the gesture over and over again, watering all of the tree root that she could reach. When necessary, Urd sent the bucket back down the well for more water. They worked steadily and methodically.

  I dozed as I watched Verdandi ladle the water again and again and again. Finally satisfied, she tucked her ladle away and Urd stowed the bucket beside her stool. The pair sat down and began to work again, never having exchanged a word. The spindle spun and dipped, wool gathering on its stem. Verdandi pursed her lips as she knit, the product of her efforts spreading over her lap like a snowdrift.

  Just before my eyes shut again, I saw it. A fresh green leaf appeared on one branch of the winter-deadened tree. Urd and Verdandi paused in their work to watch it unfurl. It opened with ridiculous speed, becoming a lushly green and shiny leaf about as big as the palm of my hand.

  A second bud erupted farther down the same branch.

  The sisters exchanged a glance and then Verdandi began to hum a little. Her needles flashed again and the drop spindle spun. But I saw her wink at me, quickly, just before I closed my eyes.

  I smiled as I slipped into sleep. I knew the new growth was because of me.

  There was a new Wyvern in town and the sisters liked that just fine.

  Yes! I woke up ready for the most awesome birthday party of all time. I lingered in bed, enjoying my sense of anticipation. I could smell coffee brewing and heard my mom humming in the kitchen. My dad was on the phone, making last-minute arrangements for something. I felt the Pyr coming closer, all of them gathering for my big day. That coppery conduit was all a-sizzle.

  This was the good stuff.

  I wasn’t expecting the doorbell to ring, not so early. But it did, and my mom came to get me. ‘For you,’ she said, as if she’d never been gone. ‘Imagine.’

  I gave her a tight hug – because she had been gone – tugged on some clothes and ran for the door. I was sure it was Meagan, come to dissect events of the night before, or one of the Pyr guys.

  But it was Derek.

  And he looked awkward.

  He cleared his throat when I appeared and didn’t seem to know what to say. That my mom was standing there, obviously listening, probably didn’t help. Even my dad did a crap job of pretending not to care.

  ‘I, um, wanted to wish you happy birthday,’ he said. ‘Before you, um, got busy.’

  My parents exchanged a look and finally decided they had something to do in the kitchen.

  ‘Thanks.’ I shoved my hands in my pockets, feeling as awkward as he looked. ‘I was going to send you a message this morning, and Jessica, too. It’s kind of a Pyr party, but it’d be great if you could come, too.’

  ‘Thanks. I’ll do that.’

  We stood there, neither of us looking at each other, until he cleared his throat again. ‘Look, about last night …’

  ‘What about it?’ I thought we might have forgotten something, something keyed to the other shifters, maybe insulted them. I looked at him to find that unblinking stare fixed upon me.

  ‘You were amazing,’ Derek said. He smiled that crooked half smile. ‘I told you I always wanted to see a dragon kicking butt.’

  I blushed then, right to my toes.

  To my astonishment, when I could manage to look back at him, he was holding out a box with a bow on it. He couldn’t look me in the eye. ‘For you,’ he said gruffly. ‘No big deal. It’s just something I thought you’d like.’

  I was even more astonished. I took the box and shook it a bit – force of habit.

  ‘Open it,’ he said, sounding more like his usual self.

  ‘You already know what comes next,’ I accused him, and he grinned.

  I opened the box. There was a silver necklace in it, a necklace with a charm. It looked like a woman’s hand. I glanced up at him in confusion.

  ‘The hand of Fatima,’ he said. ‘It’s supposed to avert the Evil Eye.’

  ‘Maybe even against Mage spells.’

  ‘Can’t hurt.’

  I put it on then, using the mirror in the hall to fasten the clasp. The charm fell into the hollow of my collarbone. Derek took a look and nodded approval. ‘I noticed you like silver, too.’

  I do. I love silver. I never thought guys paid attention to stuff like that. He was watching me again, his hands shoved in his pockets, his eyes gleaming. I had a tingly feeling, one that made my skin feel all hot and me a bit dizzy.

  I wasn’t sure what came next, but I knew he was waiting for something.

  ‘Well, I should go,’ he said finally. ‘See you later.’

  We confirmed the time for the party and he turned for the door. As much as I might fantasize about Jared, it looked like he was gone from my life. But Derek – Derek liked me just fine.

  And I liked him, more all the time. Maybe I was finally getting it right.

  Maybe I could like guys who liked me for a change.

  ‘Wait.’ Before I could change my mind, I stepped after Derek. He glanced back, the twinkle in his eyes telling me that he wasn’t going to be surprised by anything I did.

  And that was okay.

  I kissed him, right on the mouth. It was sweet and lingering, an entirely different kind of kiss than I’d had with Jared. Our lips clung a bit and I bumped his nose with mine when I stepped back.

  But his eyes shone.

  And my heart was pounding.

  It was matching its pace to his, making me feel breathless and dizzy and just fine.

  ‘Later,’ Derek whispered, and then he slipped out the door and was gone.

  I leaned back against the door, trying to catch my breath.

  Then I knew I had to call Meagan.

  The Pyr came rolling in throughout the day, and my friends joined us for dinner, too. Derek and Jessica came, and Isabelle and Meagan, after I’d explained to the Pyr that these friends were among the trusted humans who knew my secret.

  My dad had made it clear that I was in deep trouble and that we would talk about my punishment the next day, yada yada yada. But he’d already added Meagan to his list of humans in the know, and had had a conversation with her, probably about confidentiality. I think she reassured him about her trustworthiness more than I ever could have.

  I might not have the gift of foresight – yet – but I had a feeling that he was going to cut me some slack one more time.
The Mages, by capturing the guys, had saved me from exile.

  And I was the new Wyvern.

  Maybe all those victories were what made the celebration of my birthday so completely amazing. We had the most awesome Thai food for dinner – my mom was on a serious cooking spree – and then the best birthday surprise of all was revealed.

  My dad had planned a pyrotechnics display just for me. We went up on the roof to watch it over the lake and my mouth fell open in shock when he turned on the music.

  The fireworks were synchronized to a song he’d noticed me listening to eighty-seven thousand times.

  ‘Snow Goddess.’

  It was perfect. Meagan grabbed my hand and squeezed my fingers tightly as we stood there in rapture.

  Perfect.

  Meagan stayed over that night.

  We were hanging out in my room after everyone else had gone, reviewing the events of the night before – well, actually, Meagan was talking about Garrett’s deeds of the night before and how hot he was and how relieved she was that he was okay – when my messenger chimed. It was Rox, the tattoo artist and partner of dragon dude Niall. I assumed she’d called with birthday wishes.

  ‘Hey, Rox.’

  Then I had a wild thought. Was Rox going to offer to do my tattoo, against my mom’s objections? My heart took off at a gallop, fueled by crazy hope.

  ‘Hi, Zoë. Happy birthday. Sorry we weren’t there for your big day.’

  ‘That’s okay. Thanks for the good wishes.’

  ‘Well, it’s more than that. I need to ask you something.’ Rox sounded distracted, and I could hear music in the background. There were other people talking, so I assumed she was at her tattoo shop. It was open half the night, so it made sense that she was still there.

  Working.

  Meagan gave me a look, but I sat up, hoping that I knew what she wanted to ask. I sure knew the answer. ‘What’s up?’

  ‘Well, this guy came in tonight,’ Rox said. I could tell by her tone that there were others around her, and guessed that she would say only half of what she meant. Maybe the guy in question was standing right there. ‘And he wants a dragon tattoo.’ She paused, although I wasn’t sure why.

  ‘You do good ones. I like Thorolf’s a lot.’

  That was, in fact, why I’d hoped Rox would do my tattoo.

  ‘Yeah, well, that’s the thing. He doesn’t want one of mine. He insists that he wants one you’ve drawn.’

  ‘Me?’

  ‘He says that you have one drawn out to go on and over your left shoulder and that he wants it. And he wants me to start on it tonight, because it’s your birthday.’ Rox lowered her voice. ‘I know that’s true and you know that’s true, but how the hell does this guy know that?’

  There was only one way any guy could know all of this.

  In fact, there was only one guy who did.

  I heard her slide her hand over the mouthpiece. ‘Do you have a stalker, Zoë?’

  ‘Kind of, but it’s okay.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’m pretty sure I know who it is.’

  ‘Well, that’s one thing,’ Rox said, sounding firm. ‘But just because he’s seen your work doesn’t mean he can just have it. You’ve put a lot of effort into that drawing and it’s yours. People think they can just snag stuff because they want it, but artists need to have their rights defended …’

  I interrupted her rant, my heart fluttering. ‘Is he there?’

  ‘You really think you know him?’

  ‘If it’s who I think it is, I’m good with this.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yeah. The guy I’m thinking of is a … a friend.’

  There was the understatement of the century. Meagan had her ‘This is good and you’d better tell me now’ expression, but I held up one hand.

  ‘Okay. Hang on.’

  There was a hum of activity, and the sound of Rox’s heels on the linoleum floor. I’ve been in that shop a bunch of times. I could close my eyes and imagine myself there, see it and smell it. I heard Niall’s voice faintly, then those of their twin sons. Rox was putting them to work early.

  Then someone picked up the phone. I caught my breath and made a wild and crazy birthday wish.

  It came true.

  ‘Hey, dragon girl.’

  Jared.

  I felt like I’d been hit with a brick.

  And I was just about as coherent as a brick.

  There were roughly forty-seven million things I wanted to say to him, but I’d been struck mute.

  ‘Hey, Jared,’ I managed to say. Meagan gasped and mimed a victory shout, both fists in the air.

  ‘Look, I, uh, thought about what you said,’ he said, sounding less certain of himself than I could believe possible. ‘And you know, even though I don’t answer to anybody, I could call you once in a while.’

  ‘But you let Rox do the dirty work tonight.’

  He laughed under his breath, and then his words came, really low. ‘Wasn’t sure you’d talk to me, dragon girl.’

  I was gripping the messenger so tightly I thought it might crack. Of all the thousands of things I wanted to say to him, I chose an easy one. One that didn’t sound entirely pathetic, or like my knees had dissolved beneath me. ‘Thanks for the book.’

  ‘You’re welcome. It needed to be where it belonged.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I always meant for you to have it.’

  I closed my eyes, hearing the resonance of truth in his voice. I knew Jared was a long shot, but it seemed like there were at least possibilities.

  Maybe he just needed somebody to believe in him.

  I wasn’t nearly sure that would be enough, but I was willing to try.

  ‘You get your beryl?’ he asked softly.

  ‘Turned out I had it all along,’ I said. ‘I just didn’t know it.’

  ‘Everything work out okay?’

  I heard his worry and smiled. ‘We kicked ass.’

  He laughed.

  I thought about offering that ride again.

  ‘Look, I need a dragon at my back,’ Jared said quietly, then continued before I could volunteer. ‘One who can’t get hurt. What do you say to letting me carry a part of you on my skin?’

  It was – as I should have expected from Jared – a perfect solution. The ideal birthday gift. I liked the idea of my dragon taking ink and claiming skin. While it was frustrating that it couldn’t be on my shoulder – at least not anytime soon – I really liked the idea of my work being on his.

  I cleared my throat. ‘First you’ve got to tell me about your salamander.’

  He chuckled a little, the sound making me shiver in a good way. I felt, in fact, tingly and filled with anticipation.

  ‘It’s not a salamander,’ Jared said. ‘It’s a Wyvern. Rox has some ideas about shading it to look white. She already gave it green eyes, just so you know.’

  I shivered with delight. He already had a part of me on his skin. Or a representation of me.

  My heart was thudding because there was only one possible answer to his question. ‘I’ll send her the drawing now. I already have it digital anyway. Are you going to be in New York for a while?’

  ‘Long enough, but don’t look for me, dragon girl.’ He was stern.

  Protective.

  ‘But …’

  ‘You don’t know everything they can do. Don’t underestimate them. We can’t risk it yet.’

  I liked him talking about us as if we were already a team. I had a compromise solution of my own. ‘So, maybe I’ll send you a dream instead.’

  ‘I’d like that, dragon girl.’ I heard the smile in his words. I felt warm right to my toes.

  And Rox could send me pictures of my dragon on Jared’s naked back, to dream on. Uh-huh.

  He cleared his throat and I knew he was going to tease me about something. I could close my eyes and imagine the sparkling green of his eyes, that glint of mischief and his troublemaking smile. His voice dropped deliciously low. ‘Especially since you still owe me
a ride.’

  ‘Absolutely,’ I agreed. ‘All I have to do is finish off the Mages first.’

  ‘Go get ’em, Zoë.’

  Fortunately, I had a pretty good idea how we were going to finally eliminate the Mages. It would coincide perfectly with boot camp, another solar eclipse, the end of the Great Lunar Standstill of 2025, and me taking hold of the future as Wyvern du jour.

  Stay tuned.

  Acknowledgements

  It may not take a village to produce a work of fiction, but bringing a book into the world certainly does require the efforts of a great many people.

  As always, I am impressed by the talents of the team at NAL. Special thanks go to my editor, Kerry Donovan, and her assistant, Jhanteigh Kupihea, who have been so fantastic about making Zoë’s books all that they can be. Alexandra Israel in Publicity has been fabulous to work with, and I appreciate her deft organization of review copies and blog stops. The copy editor on this book, Jan McInroy, did a wonderful and gracious job of correcting my inevitable inconsistencies and errors. (Those that remain are entirely mine.)

  I’d like to also thank my agent, Dominick Abel, for being so consistently wise, practical and enthusiastic. My husband, Konstantin, deserves great credit for putting up with me when I’m lost in a story. Finally, I want to thank the Points West Writers for a monthly dose of laughter, good conversation, gossip – and maybe just one more warm buttered scone.

  Thank you all.

  If you enjoyed Winging It,

  read on to find out about the previous book

  in Deborah Cooke’s Dragon Diaries series …

  To discover more great fiction and to

  place an order visit our website at

  www.allisonandbusby.com

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  FLYING BLIND

  Zoë Sorensson is a perfectly normal teenage girl – only she’s always been told she’s destined for great things. Because Zoë is the Wyvern – the one female dragon shape shifter with special powers. But Zoë is at the bottom of the class when it comes to being Pyr, and her powers are AWOL. Worse, there’s no reference book to consult, and the last Wyvern is dead …