Grave affairs, p.19
Grave Affairs, page 19
And buy. At the rate my parents kept buying things, they’d slay their wallets and join me in being poor. I pointed in the direction of the pet shop. “You may buy Garnet and Tourmaline one toy each. Please remember that their acquisitions must fit in my home. Garnet has a new tree and wheel and she’s been happy with her beds, so you have to get her an actual toy.”
My kitten squeaked at the mention of toys.
Tourmaline flitted to a nearby flower to have a snack.
“One toy per pet per person,” my father countered.
“Fine. Just remember we only have thirty minutes.”
The time limit got my parents on the move. With them marching as though the store might close at any moment, we made it in five minutes. With the same energy as young children, they hurried through the store, beelining for the sign featuring a cat.
To my dismay, Wanda and her boy were there, and the woman laughed at me. “You look absolutely ragged. Are those mean old dragons dragging you everywhere?”
Jamie’s attention locked on the carbunclo, and I struggled to keep from laughing at the hope in his expression.
“They really are.” I scratched Garnet and said, “Remember Jamie, Garnet? He’d like to say hello.”
With wide eyes, the boy bobbed his head. “Please?”
Garnet squeaked, shifted to her wisp form, and transferred over to Jamie’s shoulder before transforming back, nuzzling his cheek and settling on his shoulder. I smiled at my kitten. “She’s gotten quite good at that trick.”
“She really has. Alas for me, I have caved. Jamie really wants a kitten, so we are going to meet kittens until he picks the perfect pair. I won’t have a sad and lonely kitten in my house, so we will be adopting two. He dragged me to the Gray Ward yesterday to help with the rains. He wanted to earn the adoption fee and everything his kittens need. He isn’t quite clear on how the bounties work, so he insisted we stay the entire day. I had more than a few conversations with him about the nature of life and death.”
The thought of the boy dealing with such a topic hurt, especially when I struggled with it myself. However, I could make certain the boy left the pet store with empty pockets but a great deal of joy. “Great job, Jamie. You should make your mom take you to visit all the kittens, put them on your lap, and see which ones like attention from you. That’ll help make certain you find kittens who want to go home with you. If you take home a pair of sibling kittens, they’ll be extra happy.”
“I’ll do that, Miss Kinsley!” Jamie petted Garnet and added, “Thank you for letting me pet your kitten again.”
I knew better than to tell him he could whenever he wanted; I’d be swarmed with even more dragons and never have a moment of peace. “You’re welcome.” I scooped Garnet off Jamie’s shoulder, praised her, and said, “Garnet is about to get a few new toys, as is Tourmaline. I hope your venture goes well.”
Wendy chuckled. “I think it will. Just try to be patient. I’m sure those two will lose interest soon enough.”
There was no chance of that happening, not that I could tell her that. Rather than betray myself, I said, “I’ll try, although it has been difficult. They bought six gowns, Wanda. Me. Wearing a gown? And they bought the gowns at a boutique in the Diamond Ward.”
Wanda’s eyes widened. “Oh.”
“I couldn’t bring myself to look at the price tags. They bought shoes to go with the gowns, too. What do I do?”
“Wear them,” the dragon replied, and her expression relaxed into a smile. “Once they go off and do whatever those mean old dragons do when they aren’t bothering people, I will help you become more comfortable in your gowns, and perhaps we can see to some jewelry.”
The thought of the fortune in jewelry in my apartment would bother me for weeks, and I didn’t need to put on an act to display a suitable amount of distress. “Please tell me the jewelry at Shrine Hill is mostly costume jewelry.”
Wanda covered her mouth with her hands. “I’m afraid not. Their inexpensive jewelry is sterling silver with semiprecious rather than precious stones.”
I bowed my head. “Well, at least Garnet likes her new treasures. I bought some for her. Those dragons do not seem to understand that their wallets are not bottomless pits filled with money.”
The red dragon laughed. “I wouldn’t worry about their wallets, Kinsley. They have more wealth than they know what to do with, and they could likely buy out half of Dragon Heights and not miss a penny of it. They are old, they’re grouchy, and they have dedicated their lives to accumulating treasure. Like good dragons do.”
“But how?” I pointed in the direction they had gone. “How do they do that if all they’re doing here is spend, spend, and spend?”
“Oh. I suppose you would have no way of knowing. Well, he is a broker.”
“Of what? Souls?” I muttered.
Wanda laughed and shook her head. “He handles financial brokerage, real estate brokerage, and business brokerage. The business brokerage is where he earns the most money. When companies buy and sell, they go to him to make certain the transaction goes smoothly. When there are worries of monopolies, he evaluates the companies and accurately determines if there will be a problem with legal entities. They pay him a fortune to do this. Some say his work on a deal can cut out a significant amount of legal tape and hassle.”
I struggled to imagine a world where my father worked in the business world, failed miserably, and spluttered. “And he does that for dragons here?”
“Only as a mediator. No, he typically works for humans and their companies—or the other species hiding around in the world. The only way he’ll do business with dragons is if both groups of dragons have requested him as a neutral party. Most do not. He’s, well, a mean old dragon with no patience for other dragons.”
Once again, I struggled to imagine my father being a mean anything, although I couldn’t fault her for calling him old. He admitted he was of advanced age for a dragon plenty enough at home. “And her?”
“She’s an irritable, annoying shark of a woman!” Wanda yelled.
Deep within the store, my mother laughed.
“Was that a good idea?” I whispered.
Wanda grinned at me. “It absolutely was a good idea. Now she knows I’m here, as once she decides she’s buying something, she gets tunnel vision. She might even visit me before she leaves. She’s one of my cousins, several times removed. We don’t track that nonsense, else we’d be listing where we fell in the family tree for ages rather than get anything done. She likes that I’m willing to call her out. I would have said something far worse, but there are children in the store.”
I was somehow related to Wanda?
I foresaw many different problems, especially if the woman realized we were related. That I had relatives in Dragon Heights hadn’t crossed my mind. How was I supposed to go back to a somewhat quiet, mostly boring, but otherwise safe life if I was related to dragons in the city?
Then again, I should have known better.
Dragon Heights bustled with dragons, so having at least one be a relative made sense. My parents had to have come from somewhere. I’d even known my mother had more than a little red dragon in her heritage.
But for Wanda to be among the red dragons related to my mother, thus related to me?
I needed time to digest that news.
Wanda winked at me. “Try not to worry yourself overly much about those dragons. While I have no doubt they wanted to make sure Garnet is in a good home, they get bored, and you are not boring. It’s truly all right to accept their gifts without worry. They may be mean old dragons, but they’re never cruel.”
Saturday, April 25, 2167
The Emerald Ward
Dragon Heights, Wyoming
If given their way, my parents would spoil Garnet rotten. As I wanted my kitten to have some perspective about eating out, I taught the carbunclo why going to the restaurant counted as a special occasion. Like our first trip there, we sat on the patio, and the waiter brought the carbunclo a platter of milk to tide her over while the rest of us placed orders for our drinks.
The restaurant had made a note of her favorite, and I praised the kitten for taking her time with her treat. The table had plenty of room for even five people, and I went to work situating Garnet’s spot so she could eat with us.
“I’m surprised you know Wanda,” my mother said, raising a brow at me.
“She was in the store where I got my new phone,” I explained. “Then Garnet charmed her, and she helped me buy my new furniture. I believe she was bored.”
“Undoubtedly. If she was in the store, you went into the chain her clan owns. All the locations in Dragon Heights have a dragon working every shift. It brings their customers into the store when they visit here. They do special visits for other locations, and they advertise them heavily in the area to draw attention to their brand. Wanda is an exceptionally distant cousin of mine. Our branches of the clan view each other as tolerable menaces. There are talks about having some of the hatchlings reunite the branches; there are at least twenty generations of separation between Wanda and me, which is distant enough for healthy hatchlings. In dragons, there only needs to be six generations of separation to erase most ancestral inheritance excepting for certain traits. Coloration is a trait that can linger through at least thirty generations.”
Humans typically counted generations in twenty year increments. I puzzled over the peculiarities of draconic generations until our drinks arrived and the waiter asked if we were ready to order. My parents went first, and I attacked my parents’ wallet through ordering steak and seafood. While it took a little work to get Garnet to order rather than sip her milk, the kitten opted to try a creamy pasta dish topped with seafood. Understanding I owned a potato thief, I ordered three servings of mashed potatoes, hoping I might get some.
I had my doubts as the carbunclo could somehow pack away more than her weight in food when hungry.
Tourmaline received a dish with nectar decorated with a flower bloom, which we put closer to my parents so the excitable kitten wouldn’t disturb the bird.
“Dare I ask how someone figured that out?” I took a sip of my tea while keeping an eye on my pets, grateful I could take them onto the patio but worried someone might create problems for us.
Tourmaline could fly away if trouble came calling, but I worried about Garnet.
I wanted her to only know safety, comfort, and love.
It would be a challenge protecting her from the nature of the world.
“One of my sisters is a silver dragon, and we haven’t had a silver in the bloodlines for at least that long. And yes, we’re quite certain there were no dalliances, especially not with a silver. My grandfather made use of magic to confirm that. Then he got his ass handed to him by my sister, who took severe offense to the suggestion that our parents might not have been loyal to each other. Considering we’re from the same hatching, I may have had a turn with that old snake myself. He got trounced six times, once for each of us from that hatching. She’s the only one who turned out to be a silver from my parents. The rest of us are either red or orange. I confuse people, as they can’t readily tell if I’m red or orange.”
“You’re both,” I muttered.
“I know that, you know that, but everyone else likes pretending I’m not as dangerous as I am. Fools, all of them.”
What would I do without my mother’s ego? I restrained myself and kept from rolling my eyes despite wanting to. “Do all dragons track their bloodlines like that?”
“We do,” my father answered, and he reached over and petted Garnet. “Both our families do due to the high chances of hatchlings becoming any one color. The odds for us favor navy, red, and orange dragons, but the reality? Any hatchling of ours could be any color.”
That did not bode well for me. While I enjoyed solving mysteries, I preferred when the mysteries couldn’t twist around and bite me in the ass. “Is that old snake still alive?”
“Barely,” my mother growled. “I feel a need to go beat him again. Darling, we should drop in and pay those serpents a visit. They deserve to be beaten.”
My father sighed. “As you wish.”
“Do they live here?”
“They live about an hour from here. By air, of course.” My mother made a thoughtful sound, and she got out her phone and sent a text. “I do believe we’ll do that tomorrow. Expect us the day after to take your little family on a rock hunt for Garnet. Darling, don’t forget your saddle. You will need it. We are not going by car.”
My father heaved another sigh, longer, louder, and with a dramatic flair. “You’re going to make me carry a rider?”
“Yes, I am.”
If looks could kill, my mother would have been dead, leaving me to find a shovel to bury her. Fortunately for us all, my father huffed and puffed but accomplished exactly nothing with his fussing. “Very well.”
“Excellent. Now, Kinsley, do tell us about your life in Dragon Heights. I’m just burning to know how well the testing system works, how viable it is for migrants, and the things you would change to make it more obtainable.”
I recognized when my mother meant business, and as I valued my life, I did as told.
FIFTEEN
Poor bird.
Sunday, April 26, 2167
The Gray Ward
Dragon Heights, Wyoming
I basked in the glow of freedom and waltzed through my morning routine, taking care of Garnet and Tourmaline before settling in to check the news, evaluate what I’d learned, and begin the tedious process of evaluating every photograph I’d taken.
The photographs would be a problem.
The images showed ghostly shapes, and I recognized the carts and stalls from my second trip to Shrine Hill. The haunting quality of the pictures baffled me. Until the photos, I hadn’t believed in the possibility of ghosts.
No wonder my mother had sounded baffled by my claim there hadn’t been anyone at the shrines.
There had been people there, I just hadn’t seen them, heard them, or noticed their presence. Somehow, my new camera had perceived what I had not.
I had questions, and the images provided no answers—at least not yet. While the images were hazy, I could make out the features of those I’d photographed, able to identify some of the dragons I’d met during my second visit to Shrine Hill.
Some form of magic had been at play, and I’d been unaware of it the entire time. I’d noticed how it had seemed strange for us to be alone. I hadn’t noticed anything beyond that oddity.
What sort of magic could bend reality in such a way? Where had I gone? Where had everyone else gone, if I hadn’t been the one to vanish mysteriously?
How could a camera pick up what my eyes had failed to see?
With so many dragons having seen me at Shrine Hill, if someone did examine my search history, I could get away with tossing in some research on the more unusual powers of every color. Most would assume I had questions based on what I’d learned. Some, like the tin ability to open any jar, were common knowledge and viewed as a harmless inheritance.
As someone would report the strange disappearance had I vanished off the street, I performed some searches for strange and weird news, funny news, and satire in Dragon Heights, finding nothing relevant to my trip to Shrine Hill. While I doubted someone was checking my specific internet connection for my activities, if someone were to search through my browser history, they would find chaos. I tossed in a mix of online comics, general research suitable for testing into the system, and a ridiculous number of kitten photos.
That chaos would serve me well, costing investigators a great deal of time and effort if they wanted to deduce what I was doing and why.
I forced myself to focus on my most immediate problem, which involved understanding the nature of draconic magic.
Knowledge mattered, and the photographs proved my ignorance.
My father’s magic could summon shadows, and while I enjoyed a little of his power, in my hands, it had never done anything more than block out unwanted light while I slept. Could he disappear without a trace, hidden in the deepest of shadows? If he could, that wouldn’t explain the photographs or my situation.
The times I had witnessed his magic, he had remained substantial. When I’d been a little girl, he’d abused his powers to play games with me, hiding in the darkness and forcing me to seek him out by feel. Over time, I’d gotten good at spotting him.
In retrospect, I admired my father’s cunning, teaching me how to see through his trickery. The skill hadn’t come in useful yet, but one day, it might.
After checking in on the forecasts for the next rain, which called for slugs or caterpillars with slim chance of green algae, I began with researching the basic powers of dragons in the hope of finding even a single clue. Purple dragons held the top spot for the healing arts, being able to identify toxins at a glance, revealing the source of injuries, and even manipulating flesh, bone, and blood to save lives. The color had limitations, including the inability to raise the dead, but they could work miracles in the operating room.
Within reason, or so the internet claimed.
All magic came at a price, and the purple dragons paid that price in many ways, including pain, taking on the toxin or illness into their own bodies, or having the energy and life drained out of them. I had no idea what prices I endured for my visions.
I’d never experienced any notable fatigue after catching a glimpse of how a wound came to be, and I would have remembered pain. I’d also dodged illness, as I’d missed no more than a day or two a year when I’d been gainfully employed as a police officer.
