Page 35 of Rejected By Dragons

I blink. That's...the most frivolous use of magic I've ever heard, but maybe it's more common around here than it was in the Air Kingdom. "You brew potions?"

"I dabble," she says, deflecting, but it sounds like more than a hobby.

Dragon magic and witch magic have little in common. Even in my travels with my parents, I never heard of anyone who was proficient at both. Amy's mother is definitely a dragon; Amy herself doesn't give off strong dragon vibes, but she has to be one, too. I want to ask a million questions about how she's able to cross the lines, but she doesn't give me a chance.

"Come on," she says, grabbing me by the hand again to drag me down the hall.

We pass a cozy living room with a big TV, comfy leather couches draped in afghans, and tables and shelves laden with books and plants. At the end of the hall are a couple of big brass doors, protected by what I'm pretty sure are more magical locks.

"What's over there?"

"We run the local occult shop," she says breezily. "You know, spell ingredients, magical artifacts. Lots of creepy, weird stuff." She grins. Clearly, creepy and weird are her jam.

My eyes widen. "Cool."

"I'll show you around it later," she promises. For now, she takes me up a flight of stairs.

At the top of the landing, I glance around. To my left is a huge, stately bedroom decorated in tapestries and art. Definitely Amy's mom's. There's a smaller room beside it that appears to be a study of some sort. Down the corridor to my right, I spot what has to be Amy's room. Through the open door, I can make out purple walls and band posters and an open closet crammed full of eclectic clothes.

She guides me in that direction, pointing at other doors as we go. "Linen closet. Bathroom. Torture chamber."

"Um--"

"Just kidding, it's my mom's workout-room-slash-craft-room. It used to be Jett's before he hooked up with Freya and got his own place on the outskirts of town."

"Oh."

"And this..." She steps aside, dropping my hand to gesture with a flourish at the room next to hers. "Is the guest suite."

I peer around the doorframe. The room inside is nice, with light cream walls. Bright light filters in through the gaps between copper-colored curtains. Opposite the windows are two large canvases, depicting vast landscapes, the stormy skies filled with dragons in mid-flight, and something pulls inside my chest at the sight. I move in to take a closer look, unsure what it is about the images that calls to me.

As I gaze at the bold brushstrokes, Amy bustles past me. She pats the bed, which is made up with crisp white sheets and an invitingly squishy down comforter.

"This is where you'll sleep," she informs me.

I start to shake my head, but she won't have any of it.

"You're dead on your feet," she tells me, and okay, fine, she's not exactly wrong.

I sway slightly. The bed is way too tempting. I've slept like crap ever since I left the Air Kingdom, haunted by memories of my last moments there. Missing Storm and Brynn and home, and mourning my chance to connect with my dragon at the Emergence. Terrified of what might find me in the unclaimed lands. Helpless and exposed in the dark.

The fact that I was roughing it in Aunt Helena's car didn't exactly help, either, of course. The idea of lying down for real, in an actual bed? In a house protected by magical locks?

If Amy or her mother wants to pull a plot twist and try to murder me in my sleep, honestly, it might still be a decent trade.

"Okay," Amy says, catching me before I can face-plant into the perfectly fluffy pillows. "Shower first."

"But..." I make grabby hands toward the bed.

"Shower," she repeats, firm.

She's right, of course. I feel gritty and gross, days' worth of sweat, grime, sand and tears having soaked into my pores.

I allow myself to be steered past the bed and the closet toward a full en suite. I could cry at the rush of running water as Amy gets the shower going. I suddenly feel like there's dust jammed into my eyeballs. I kept myself going across hundreds of miles of desert, but now that there's finally relief in sight, I'm desperate to wash it all away.

"I'll leave you some clean clothes on the bed. Take your time."

I start to tug at my filthy clothes, but I pause just before she can close the door behind me. One question won't leave me alone. "Why are you being so nice to me?"

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