A Shade of Dragon (10 page)

I
spent
the next three days mired in a depression so deep, even being guided through a self-help meditation with Zada didn’t brighten my spirits. Even when she coaxed me to feel all the slime from “total skeezewads” melting off of me, I didn’t crack a smile. And I didn’t know what was wrong. If I asked for anyone’s opinion, they would assure me I had done the right thing, the only thing that I could have done.

And yet I felt torn, as if I had been the one to make a mistake. When we hurt at the loss of even toxic and corrosive things, how did we know when to embrace pain as necessary, numb ourselves, and wait for the time to pass, or to run away from it, bottle it up and force the mind to other things? Was I just aching because I’d been forced to dump a gorgeous psychopath, or was it because…

No.
I did whatever I could to respond in the first way: the positive way. I let myself eat all the pizza in the house. I lay in various positions on the couch and watched every romantic comedy in the DVD library, crying when they first kissed, when they inevitably parted ways over a misunderstanding, and then bawling when they realized what terrible mistakes had been made. I ignored everyone else in the house, unless they were offering to freshen my coffee, and I slept for ten to twelve hours two days in a row.

Forty-eight hours after our ill-fated first date, Dad broached what would clearly be a shaky topic.

He entered the den and rested his hip on the edge of the couch. I didn’t acknowledge him. He cleared his throat, and I tore my eyes from the screen, wiping at the tear which had trekked halfway down one cheek.

“Hey, kiddo,” Dad greeted.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I muttered.

Dad sighed. “You know why I didn’t punish you after you came home from running off with that guy? The ‘prince’?”

“I didn’t think about it, honestly.” I decided this conversation was happening, no matter how badly I wanted to avoid it, and paused
Friends
with a begrudging sigh.

“I didn’t punish you because I know you… and I know you must have really cared about that guy to leave with him.”

“He was all right, I guess. It’s not that big of a deal, actually.”

“Did something happen?”

“Not really.” I felt Dad linger at the side of the couch, and slanted a glance over my shoulder at him. “What?”

“I don’t know, Nell.” Dad sighed again. “You’ve been acting like something happened.”

“Okay, well, I guess he said something that I thought made him sound crazy.” I shrugged. “You were right, okay? There are no princes from distant islands roaming the coast of Maine in the winter. He’s just some creep with an elaborate background story.”

Dad settled onto the couch beside me, and I stifled the urge to roll my eyes. I had finally gotten bad enough that my father, the maestro of ruined relationships, was offering me advice. “It’s interesting that you’re so sad about losing someone like that... So what happened?”

“Auuugh.” I did not want to do this, especially not with Bryce O’Hara. “He… I got scratched by this big bird on the beach.”

Naturally, I neglected all the other details. How the bird had picked me up and carried me onto the cliffside, where it had dropped me into its massive nest. How it had resembled a woman. How it had spoken to Theon… He must have drugged me or something. Maybe he’d hypnotized me. Who knew what kind of tools a con artist could employ?

“Anyway, he claimed that the wounds were psychic, and they were infecting my chakras, or something,” I muttered, refusing to meet my father’s eyes. I could only imagine how high his eyebrows were right now. “And he wanted to heal them with his, like, sacred prince energy, or something. Honestly… I… I mean… He must be crazy, right?” I shook my head and stared off into space, genuinely wondering. “He must be crazy.”

Dad, unbelievably, chuckled. “Yeah… That was what I thought when I first met Zada, you know.”

I shot him a glare. “Are you trying to convince me that he’s not crazy?”

“No, no, no… That’s up to you to decide. But I’m just saying that your reaction belies how much he meant to you, even though you’d only just met. I wouldn’t even be talking to you about him now if you’d moved off of the couch in the past two days.”

I bristled. “I’ve moved.”

“To go to the bathroom or raid the fridge. Not to take a shower, or change clothes, or anything else done by people who aren’t fabulously depressed.”

My shoulders sagged.

“Anyway,” Dad continued, “I’m just saying that first impressions can be misleading, especially to people like us.”

“What do you mean, ‘people like us’?”

Dad sighed. “We’ve lived… special lives, you know? Meemaw and Peepop were lucky. They were born to people with money, they went to Ivy League institutions, and when they had me, they… trained me in the way of their culture. But, Nell—what you think of as sanity is actually just perspective. You and I were both raised in painfully conventional households, and other people think we’re the crazy ones.”

I pursed my lips. That much was true. I recalled the reaction of other Shenandoah Institute students to my politeness, my formality. They thought I was ridiculous.

“So, when I met Zada, I automatically judged her,” Dad went on. “I had been given her card by a colleague. I called her, and she came over with her little table, and her oils, and her meditation music. Of course, she’s gorgeous, but it wasn’t just that. It never is. She was wearing a Ralph Nader t-shirt, first of all. And sandals made out of rope. And patchwork, parachute pants she bragged about making herself. And then, when she started working on me, she started talking. She talked about how certain sounds would unlock the energy in my spine, and with enough effort, I’d be able to see the secret, invisible world of spirits surrounding us.” I scoffed, but Dad cast me a stern look. “The thing is, Nell, it’s no different from us, claiming that a little piece of green paper is more important than, say, the tree it’s made from—even though that tree provides oxygen and absorbs carbon dioxide from the atmosphere. Without the trees, we would all die out, but cash is an invention that is less than two thousand years old.”

I scrunched my nose. “It’s not really the same thing.”

“But it is, Penelope. The reason money is important to us is our belief in it. It is green paper. It hasn’t even represented gold in over a hundred years now. It is just printed from the Federal Reserve and moved into circulation. Even if it did stand for gold, what is the real worth of gold? Can we eat gold? Can we breathe it? It’s just another idea. It only has value because we believe it does. It’s nothing but a mineral, the same as coal, or zinc, or feldspar.”

My frown deepened. I could tell Zada had been filling Dad’s head with her thoughts. “Fine. Maybe our beliefs are the result of our upbringing, and it’s not the same as really being crazy. Are you saying madness is just an idea we use to ostracize outsiders, or what, Dad?”

“There’s my little debate star,” Dad said, winking at me. “No, there are definitely real crazies out there. People who get infuriated in traffic. People who hear voices, or want to hurt other people, or think that they’re Jesus. But—Nell—did he do anything that really made you feel unsafe?”

The memory of Theon rushing past me to battle the—the harpies—came flooding to the forefront of my mind.

“I guess not,” I whispered. My hand went to the pendant, still beneath my shirt. “I felt safe with him.” I lowered my eyes and felt a pang of remorse. Things had felt natural with him. Real. Important.

“That’s a pretty big deal, Nell. You’re almost making me regret kicking him out.”

“Yeah, it is kind of weird how you didn’t want me to be with him, and now that I’m not, you do.” I looked at him and slanted my mouth to the side. “Maybe it’s just your contrary nature coming out. You always want the other thing.”

“First, I resent that.” Dad raised a finger in the air. “And secondly, if you don’t believe me, then maybe you should talk to Patty about this. You’ve always trusted her advice over mine anyway.”

I grimaced and nodded. I hadn’t talked to my mom in almost a week. I had wished her a merry Christmas before I’d left, and then I’d lost my phone… and although my father was a strong proponent of happiness over self-control, my mother would easily represent the other side of the spectrum. It was probably wise to consult her, especially if I was tempted to agree with my dad and go to Theon now.

Theon would open the door and take me into his arms, and that mysterious heat would sweep through my body again, and his mouth would descend onto—

I shook my head and cleared my throat.

Yeah. It was time to call Mom. She’d talk this nonsense right out of me.

I
borrowed
the landline that night and gave Mom a call. I could just imagine what she was doing right now, in our little house just outside of DC’s urban center, the night before New Year’s Eve. She was undoubtedly garbed in some kind of luxurious robe. Fireplace roaring. Classical music moving through the house. And utterly alone.

Sometimes I thought my mom sounded badass, and other times, the thought of her made me quite sad. She was so beautiful still, however severe and aristocratic her features. She had amassed a small fortune. And yet I was certain she would never have a partner with whom to share her life. She must’ve been terribly lonely without me there.

The phone was in the middle of its third ring when she answered.

“Hello?” Her voice, not unlike Michelle’s, was throaty and cultured with a measured kind of coldness to it.

“Hey, Mom,” I greeted.

Her voice instantly warmed. “Baby. I tried to call you, but it went straight to voicemail.”

“You might not believe this, but my phone is actually in the ocean somewhere. I would’ve told you, but I—I met somebody. And he kind of took over my time for the past week.”

“You met someone?” She didn’t even try to keep the surprise out of her voice. “Who? What’s he like? Oh, God, don’t tell me it’s the son of one of your father’s friends. Nell…”

“He’s not local. He’s… actually… He’s foreign.”

“Oh?” Mom’s voice was gilded in both curiosity and suspicion.

“And I really liked him,” I blurted.

Mom paused before clearing her throat. “Liked him. Past tense.”

“Well… I still like him, kind of,” I explained. “But we went out on a date, and we started really talking, and I realized that he was… very different… from us.”

“In what way was he different?” The stress in Mom’s voice spiked higher.

I sighed. I hated to explain it again. It was so embarrassing. “Well, he actually—he said that the world is built up of different dimensions, and all kinds of fantastic creatures, and… he even believes in harpies, Mom.”

“The eagles?”

“No, the mythical creatures.”

Mom, unbelievably, laughed. And it wasn’t even a cruel laugh. It was a genuine one.

“Mom! It’s not funny!”

“It is a little funny. And then you left, I imagine.”

“Of course I left! I can’t marry someone who believes in—in mermaids and yetis and—”

“But believing in angels is totally okay,” Mom interjected. I glared. “Hold on, hold on, hold on. Did you say marry?”

“And did you just seriously defend a man’s belief in mythological creatures?” I countered, sidestepping her question.

“I… Nell.” Mom sighed. “I just spent Christmas in a big, drafty house, all by myself. The longest relationship I’ve had since I was thirty-one lasted for four months, and I left him because he giggled when he laughed.”

“Seriously?” I didn’t remember that guy.

“Seriously. We’d talked online for a few weeks. He was another lawyer, but he lived in Baltimore. When we finally mustered up enough courage to meet each other, I did really like him. There was just… his giggle.”

“So what are you saying exactly, Mom? Theon believing in cryptozoology is the equivalent of an annoying laugh?”

There was a beat of silence. “I don’t know what I’m saying. I’m just saying that I’ve dated a lot of men, when you think about it.” She laughed mirthlessly to herself. “Considering that I’ve been single most of the past ten years, I’ve still managed to date several men, really. And some of them, you know, I really did like.”

“Really?” She’d never talked about any of them the way I could talk about Theon.

“Yeah. I really liked Noah; he was a doctor. But he was obsessed with recycling and littering and animals going extinct. And I really liked Josh, too. Josh was an English teacher—”

“Josh Baker, from Broward?” I shrilled. Josh Baker had been my English teacher freshman year.

Mom sighed. “That was the one,” she murmured. “He was really nice. But we were getting ready to move. And he was your teacher. It would’ve been complicated.”

I didn’t like the way this conversation was moving at all. I’d thought, of all the people in the free world, Patricia Fitzgerald would’ve been the one to discourage my pairing with Theon Aena of Iphras.

“So, basically, I should just shirk my standards and throw caution to the wind, like Dad.” It was a low blow, I admit.

“No. But you must really like this guy if you’re calling me about him. And I’ve never seen you really like a guy, Nell, even though you’re at an age when most girls are boy-crazy. Did you want my advice or not?”

“Yes,” I grumbled. “I want your advice.”

“All I’m trying to say is that I want something better for you than what I have for myself. There’s always a reason to say no. I could always hide behind my lifestyle, or my career, or other engagements, or family. There’s always a problem. Always an excuse. And I probably did save myself a lot of heartache. But now…” There was a pause, and I imagined her gazing out the window at the snow-encrusted landscape, beautiful and alone. “I do have some regrets about it,” she finished.

My cheeks flushed. I’d been sure she was going to support my decision, and now the room was spinning a little bit. “Well, it probably doesn’t matter. Like I said, he’s foreign. He was staying temporarily. I don’t have a phone, and I don’t think he has a phone, either, and… I can’t just stake out his place, which isn’t even his place. He’s staying with someone else while he’s here. And he’s probably already gone. And I’ll probably never see him again.” Much to my surprise, my eyes burned with hot tears. I inhaled and refused to blink, even though my vision became wobbly.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” Mom was harsh and strict most of the time; I’d rarely seen her handle my own heartbreak. I couldn’t recall feeling quite so vulnerable as I felt now, and her soft, maternal voice made me feel like a little girl again. “Maybe you can still catch him; maybe his friend will have some forwarding information for him. Don’t give up hope quite yet.”

Augh. Why did Mom have to choose this point to become the new Zada?

“Okay, Mom. Thanks. I’ll… I’ll try to see him sometime soon. Thanks for your advice. It means a lot. Dad said something like that too, but—somehow, I trust your sense a little more.”

This brought another genuine chuckle across the line. “You’re welcome, sweetheart. Merry Christmas again—and happy New Year! I’ll see you… January second, right?”

“January first,” I corrected.

“Even better. See you then, baby. We’ll get you set up with a new phone when you get here. Have a happy New Year’s, and good luck with—Theon, did you say his name was?”

“Right.”

“Hm. What country is he from?”

“Some… island.” It sounded better than,
He won’t really tell me, but I don’t think it’s on Earth, actually.

“Hm. Okay,” Mom said. “Well, goodnight, sweetheart. Sweet dreams, and good luck.”

I hung up the landline and went up to my room to prepare for bed. Tomorrow would be the thirtieth. I wondered if Theon would still be here—or if he was even still here now.

I flicked on the bedside lamp and settled onto my bed. I knew it was pointless to gaze out across the beach. He wouldn’t be there. But I suddenly wished that I could look out the window and see him again.

Plucking the crystal pendant from within my shirt, I examined its milky glass against the glow of the lamp. Again, I felt tempted to call his name.

“Theon?” I whispered, wondering if he would come across the line. Wondering if his body would move across a distant light as it had done before.

But nothing came, and with a sigh of disappointment, I dropped the pendant back into my top and lay down. Who was I kidding? I wasn’t going to see him again. If he wasn’t gone already, he’d be gone soon, and I had no way of knowing where exactly to find him, except at some other girl’s apartment in Beggar’s Hole.