Page 19 of Dragon Fires Everywhere
Except I didn’t enchant them to dance above me—though maybe I should have, because clearly they’re the source of my amazingsleep.
It’s just the type of thing Emerson would do. But I know her. More importantly, I know the crystals she’d choose for somethinglike this, and it wouldn’t occur to her to have themdancein the air above me. And not just because of the energy that would require.
She would have them ruthlessly organized around the bed. She would have chosen theobviousones for good, protected sleep. Amethyst, quartz, citrine. Instead, the stones humming above my bed are in all blacks, greens,and blues. Like adragonchose and charmed the onyx, tourmaline, serpentine, and sodalite.
I study them, recognize them. These crystals were all gifts. Anonymous gifts after moving into Wilde House. After I’d hadbad nights, was upset about something or another, these crystals had just appeared in my collection over the years.
I thought they were sweet gestures from Emerson, who knows how hard I’ve tried to pretend my mother’s disapproval doesn’tget to me.
Now, in dragon colors dancing around me, I wonder.
I watch them for a minute, and then, before I can decide what to do, they all fall with a softthudat the end of the mattress, just narrowly missing my feet. Almost at the same time, the door slams open, and Azrael standsthere. In all his man-but-dragon state. “Finally.”
“Do youmind?”
“Not at all.” He prowls in like he owns the place. Perhapsit doesn’t occur to a dragon that he doesn’t. He pokes around this room much the same way he did mine. Like every corner is fascinating.
“You charmed my sleep.”
“You’re welcome.”
As if this reminds him, he sweeps a hand up, and the crystals rise up too. He closes his fist and they huddle together. Then,with a snap, they’re gone.
I frown at him. And will obviously have to replace all my traitorous stones. Except... maybe they were never really mine.“You... gave me those. Over the years.”
“You spent those years telling me your secrets and sorrows,” he returns with an easy shrug. “You like stones. They cheeredyou up.”
This is not an answer, but I find I suddenly don’t want one. Not while he’s looking at me with such...intent. Not when it feels like the kind of sweet gesture someone who knows me would make, but how could he know me?
He’s been cursed in a newel post.
I’m distracted when Octavius hops up onto the bed with his usual orange potbelliedthunk. He walks in three circles and then settles himself on my lap. It’s his version of a welcome home, so I scratch his headuntil he purrs.
It’s the first time I’ve felt actuallysettledsince coming home. Unlike all the other familiars I know of, Octavius doesn’t communicate with me. At least, not in my headwith words. It’s more I can...feelwhat he’s thinking, and vice versa.
“Are you going to rise?” Azrael asks me irritably. He’s staring at Octavius with a look I can’t quite name. It’s not predatory...exactly. It’salmostthe way he looks at Frost.
“Are you going to leave me be so I can do so in privacy?”
“Privacy.” Azrael makes a scoffing noise, and a puff of his dragon smoke. “What about him?” He points at Octavius curled upin my lap.
“He’s a familiar. He’s acat.”
Azrael and Octavius regard each other. It’s a strange standoff I can’t quite figure out. Then Azrael stalks out of the room.
“As much as I don’t like to be rushed, I do have a lot to do today. Luckily, the museum is closed for the holiday weekend.It’ll give me some extra time to come up with this spell,” I murmur to Octavius as I magic myself ready and catch him up onthe happenings of my trip and return.
I don’t mention Sage, but then, Octavius never cared for Sage. Much in the same way my friends didn’t. Not with hisses orclaws, but with careful distance.
Once I’m dressed and satisfied with the wildness of my hair, always a curly red problem, I call on a few of my crystals—theones I found on my travels. They appear in my hand. I ask the amethyst for its calm and intuition, aquamarine for truth andclarity, and black tourmaline to shield me against negativity.
Including my own.
This is my usual morning ritual, and I enjoy it. When I’m done, I brace myself for all thatdragonawaiting me. “I’m headed to Frost’s library today,” I tell Octavius as I open the bedroom door. “It’s up to you whether you’dlike to come with me or stay he—”
As I move into the hall, looking over my shoulder at Octavius, I slam right into a hard, hot wall ofmuscle.
Dragon muscle. In the shape of man.
