Burn(72)

“Well . . .” Darlene let her go, looking down at the dish towel in her hands. “I kind of drove him to it, too. Neither of us is faultless.”

“So he’s not dead?”

“No, child, what on earth makes you say . . .” She stopped, then said, “Oh. Because he is . . . in that other place.”

Sarah nodded, the tears coming again. “It all happened so fast. He was shot and he . . .”

Darlene hugged her again, had barely stopped, really. “Girl, I may not know exactly who you are or how you’re here, but it’s obvious you’ve been through something.”

“Something that will keep happening,” Kazimir said, writing again with the Spur. “Whether we like it or not.”

“The dragon will come back,” Darlene said, not a question, but as if she were trying it out to see if she could accept it.

“If she is not already on her way,” Kazimir said.

“Then we can’t be here,” Sarah said, wiping her cheeks. “We can’t put my mom in any kind of danger.”

“She is not technically your mother—” Kazimir stopped at the look Sarah shot him. “But you are incorrect. We must be here.”

“And what exactly do you propose to do in the face of something that huge?” Darlene said, frowning now. “How do you two tiny people think you stand a chance in the face of a dragon?”

“I have some surprises up my sleeves,” Kazimir said, “as I believe the expression is.”

“You do?” Darlene said.

“You do?” Sarah echoed.

He lifted the Spur. “There are two things in this world that are pure dragon. Her. And this. Their connection is inevitable. I am looking for a way to use that against her.”

“How are you all so sure it’s a her?” Darlene asked. “Are there . . . anatomical differences you can see?”

“She was a woman in the other world,” Sarah said.

“I beg your pardon?”

“She was a human woman. When she crossed the boundary, that’s how she came out the other side. A great big dragon.”

Darlene just sat there with her mouth open for a moment. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Imagine being so essentially dragon,” Kazimir said, frowning, “you override reality itself.”

“Sounds like something only God could do,” Sarah said.

“Don’t blaspheme,” Darlene said, as if by reflex.

“Or a Goddess,” Kazimir said, almost under his breath.

“You neither,” said Darlene.

“Oh, trust me when I say I wish I did not believe it,” Kazimir said.

“Believe what?” Sarah asked.

Kazimir took a long breath, and Sarah could just feel the bad news coming. “You asked before about our Goddess,” he said.

“You said you destroyed her.”

“I did not. I said we took care of her before she destroyed us.”

“Took care of her how?”

Kazimir looked hesitant, like he knew she wasn’t going to like his answer. “Using all the dragon magic at hand, we trapped her in the body of a human, doomed to age and die.” He took a deep breath. “And be reborn as a woman each generation.”

The import of it hit Sarah like a falling brick. “Oh,” she said. “Hell.”

“Language, missy!” Darlene snapped, much angrier than at the blasphemy.

Kazimir looked at the claw again. “She will come for what is hers. I think we may have made a large mistake letting that assassin go.”

A sudden knocking at the door made them all jump again. Darlene went toward it, fear in her eyes. “If it’s the sheriff . . .”

But it was Hisao and Jason, who Sarah felt another sudden ache for on seeing him again. There was no time for that, though. They’d stopped in the feed store after dropping off Malcolm, and had immediately been asked their opinions on that morning’s paper. It was too soon to have photographs, but the headline and story were clear. An entire town just on the other side of the mountains had burnt to the ground.

“Police are saying it was volcanic,” Hisao said. “A vent that opened up. But . . .”

“It was her,” Kazimir said, deeply unhappy. “She was taking her first taste.”





Twenty-Two


THE PAIN INCREASED as she flew, for she didn’t stop, feeling somehow that she might outfly it, an ache in her head like something crawling out from the inside. She managed for a little while, but eventually she had to stop on another mountain peak to rest. The pain was intense enough to make her throw up a bile so acidic the rocks sizzled.

Surely dragons didn’t get morning sickness?

Instinct told her (how? she wasn’t quite sure, she just knew as certainly as she might know she was hungry) that her time was very near. There would be pain and then a clutch of eggs and then . . .

Well, she smiled to herself, then this world would be on its way to a proper hierarchy—

She vomited again. And again. Once more, and the pain ceased altogether. Her dragon eye caught the tiniest of sparkles in the mess. The morning sun was brilliant on the mountaintop, and something very small reflected back at her. She hooked the very tip of one claw to lift it.