Page 55 of Real

The man searches my face, unsure if he can trust me. “Are the Illusors in danger?”

I don’t know how much I should tell him. If I’m honest, will he let me up to the roof?

“Yes.” Technically Buddy isn’t an Illusor, but close enough.

The man looks around the empty store, then limps to a back door in the corner of his shop. “If you take this staircase to the roof, you should find the landing pad. Most dragon shifters won’t use it. They’ll only land on fancy landing pads in remote locations.” There’s resentment in his voice. I get the impression this guy doesn’t play well with other dragon shifters.

“Thank you,” I say and walk toward the door.

I glance around the store one last time, and I think I finally understand. This isn’t the kind of store I expected a dragon shifter to own, but it’s definitely a store I’d expect the Illusors to run. It has figurines from their legends and swag that enthusiastically celebrates their magical Den. There are even patches near the front of the store with a silhouette of an outstretched hand that say “Protect Illusor Rights” along the bottom.

This guy isn’t just a fan, he’s an ally.

“Do you get to go to the Dean of Dreams often?” I ask.

He raises his chin proudly and says, “They let me go on the first Tuesday of the month for free as long as I rent out those lockers along the back to their clients. They offer me a private illusion once a year too, but I’m a happily bonded man, so I don’t do any of that stuff.”

I wonder if Buddy will run into this guy someday or even become friends with him.

“When I get my wallet, I’ll pay you back,” I say as I open the door.

“Sure thing. What’s your name again, son?”

I pause for a moment. “Timothy.”

H was never really my name. It was what other people wanted my name to be. That name helped them build a new life for themselves, but it wasn’t what I wanted. I simply disappeared into the background of the lives they built, and I never demanded that they see me as anything but a side character in their stories.

I’m done going by the label they want to give me.

“It’s nice to meet you, Timothy. Best of luck out there. Say hi to Einar for me.”

“What’s your name?”

He holds out his hand to me. “Joe.”

Of course it is. “Nice to meet you too, Joe.”

There are a lot of steps up to the roof. There must be at least ten floors. I have to stop a few times to catch my breath and finally, to check my phone when Manny answers my text.

Okay. Coming down to get you.

The door at the top of the staircase opens and Manny runs down until he sees me coming toward him.

“You made it. That’s good. I’m sorry it took so long, but we had to pick up Candlewick.”

Did Felicity call Manny too? Why couldn’t she pick up Candlewick herself?

“I guess we’re not in a hurry then,” I say with more anger in my voice than I intend.

Manny turns around and starts back up the stairs. “It wasn’t my idea. She said you could use some backup. She was adamant about it.”

Huh. Maybe she actually listened to what I had to say.

We get to the top of the staircase and push open the double doors to the roof. The floor is made of cement and largely empty except for a small closet-type structure a naked seventy-year-old woman is leaning against.

“This is Anne. Normally, she’s clothed,” Manny explains.

Anne waves at me with absolutely no shame. “I’m the dragon.”

---