Backyard Dragons (7 page)

“Sure. I can do that.”

Chapter 10

Claire

Though she could have found a bus stop much closer, Claire jogged ten minutes to reach a furniture store recommended by the guy working at the gas station. She carefully tucked the dagger into the waistband of her skirt to avoid having the cops called on her and stepped inside the store with no idea how to use a foreign couch as her gateway into the Palace. She’d only ever used the one at Justin’s house before.

The huge space held rows of beds, a wall covered with television sets, full kitchen displays, a sea of dining room sets, a vast array of armchairs, and a horde of couches. White, black, brown, and beige dominated the room with splashes of color on the upholstered pieces and chrome in the kitchens. Claire figured familiarity might help and edged toward the couches, checking for a brown leather one.

“Can I help you?”

Not expecting to be noticed and accosted, Claire jumped. Enion dove for her hips and searched for a pocket, only to discover she had none. He wriggled under the back of her shirt.

“I’m so sorry!” The woman who’d addressed her touched the shoulder Enion had been sitting on only moments ago. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Claire waved her off. “Oh, no. I wasn’t scared. Just, um, yeah.”

The woman wore a green sweater over a white shirt with black pants and black heels. She smiled at Claire. After getting a thousand fake smiles in foster care, Claire thought she could pick them out pretty well, but this one seemed real. Her name tag read
Isabella
.

“Can I help you find anything?”

“Oh. Um.” Justin had never said anything about doing what they do in front of normal people. He hadn’t forbidden it and hadn’t said anything about how they would react or why no one knew about the Spirit Knights. His family all knew the basics, yet he avoided doing anything overtly magical in front of them. Claire had no idea if hopping into a couch while Isabella watched would cause some kind of disaster. Neither did she know if seeing a dragon would make Isabella’s brain explode.

Isabella’s smile faltered. “Are your parents still in the car?”

“No. I’m, um, sort of…advance scouting?”

“Oh, of course.” Isabella’s smile returned full force. “What are you looking for?”

As long as she had Isabella’s attention and couldn’t shake it, Claire figured she might as well use it. “A leather couch.”

“Have you come to the right place!” Isabella hooked her arm through Claire’s and guided her through the industrial carpet maze of furniture. The woman chattered about other options besides leather, none of which interested Claire. She did her best to make appropriate sounds at pauses to avoid being rude.

“These are the leather models. Each one comes in a variety of colors, of course. What size of couch are you looking for?”

“Um, is it okay if I just kind of look around and try them out?”

“Sure.” Isabella released Claire’s arm and stepped back, watching.

Her attempt to shake this woman having failed, Claire decided her only option involved pretending Isabella didn’t exist. She took a deep breath and wandered through the couches, stopping when she found a brown one with three cushions, like a new version of Justin’s. He’d said any couch should work. He wouldn’t lie to her about something like this.

She sat on the springy, squishy couch and remembered the nice stuff her parents had, once upon a time. They had favored velvety fabrics over leather. If only Justin and Marie could afford nice things like this.

“It is nice, isn’t it?”

Claire turned around to find Isabella standing behind her. “Yes.” She had to ignore the woman and hope nothing bad happened. Shutting her eyes, she focused on her desire to go to the Palace.

“That particular one has a matching loveseat, armchair, ottoman, and sectional.” Isabella’s voice moved like she’d decided to come around and face Claire to talk her into this couch.

At home, doing this still took effort. Claire hadn’t done it very many times yet, and she had to concentrate. In this strange place, she needed to focus even more. Isabella clearly didn’t want to let that happen. Claire stifled the urge to jump up and punch Isabella to shut her up. She knew nothing good would come of that.

“Are you all right?”

Claire said nothing. With her eyes still shut and trying to imagine her room in the Palace, she hoped Isabella would take a hint. She forced herself to think about stone floors and walls.

“Are you having a seizure?”

“What?” Unable to ignore the question, Claire snapped her eyes open and found Isabella giving her the most sincere look of concern imaginable. “No. I’m just— Can I have a minute, please?”

“Oh. Of course.” Finally, Isabella turned and walked away.

Claire shut her eyes and demanded the Palace let her in. In her head, she begged, she shouted, she raged. When nothing happened after several minutes, she opened her eyes and stood, still in the furniture store. She’d failed at the most basic part of being a Knight and had no idea why. Shoulders slumped, she ignored Isabella’s annoyingly cheerful entreaties and shuffled outside.

Light rain had begun while she’d sat inside the store. She stopped herself from being too relieved about the lack of wind, in case the universe heard her and decided to fix it.

Enion climbed up her shirt and draped his body around her neck. He reached up and touched her cheek. “Try again.”

“What for?” She kicked a rock on the sidewalk and watched it bounce into the gutter.

“The man in the Palace.”

“What? Which one? Am I supposed to be showing Djembe how much I deserve to be a Knight?”

“The Heart!”

Claire squinted at the ground, trying to figure out why that guy would matter. Nothing came to mind. “What about him?”

Enion modulated his voice so it approximated that man’s, only high-pitched, as if he’d sucked on helium. “Tenacity. Strength of will. Courage.”

Had he only wanted to see if she stood up again after being knocked down? Claire tugged the blade out of her waistband. Raindrops bounced off the gleaming silver blade. That man had granted her this weapon as a badge of proof. She deserved to be a Knight.

“Over there. Try that one!” Enion pushed her face until she saw a dumpster. Beside it sat a decrepit old cloth couch with fraying upholstery in faded blue and green.

Claire squared her shoulders, tucked her dagger back into her waistband, and marched to the couch. It reminded her more of Justin’s couch than any of those soft, new ones at the store. She glanced around and saw no one. Focusing her will, she sat on the couch that smelled of wet cat and fell through into her empty bedroom. She hit the stone floor hard enough to smart. Then she grinned at her success and hopped to her feet.

“Now that I know I can do this outside of home, the first thing I want in here is a cushion on the floor.”

“I like cushions. They make falling better.”

“Yeah. Exactly.” She strode into the corridor and jogged up the hall then down the stairs. Once in the Thoroughfare, she concentrated on the kitchen and found it right away, but on the left side this time. She hoped she’d eventually understand this place.

One step into the kitchen, she stopped and regarded its single occupant. As before, Djembe stirred a steaming mug, the aroma of coffee inviting her into the room. He glanced at the door and saw her.

“Who are you looking for?”

Claire looked at him and saw an opportunity. He’d been reasonable yesterday. While she doubted she could ever befriend him, she could keep his hostility down, and maybe even discover why he had that hostility in the first place. In time, she could possibly prove him wrong.

She took a deep breath. “You, actually.”

Pausing in the act of taking his first sip at his mug, he raised his brow and gave her a once-over. “And why would you look for me?”

“I…” She groped for some reason to offer that wouldn’t be a complete lie. Looking away, she rested her hands on her hips and found her dagger. As a perfect excuse, she carefully removed it from her waist and held it up for him. “I wanted to show you this. It’s my first weapon.”

“Ah.” He set his mug on the counter and approached her. The swagger in his step made her want to turn and run. “This is complete?” He plucked the dagger from her hand and held it up.

Her mouth ran dry and her heart pounded in her chest as she imagined him stabbing her with her own blade. At least she could let her hand fall so he wouldn’t see it shaking. “Yeah. I met the Heart. Thing. Guy. Worthiness test. Thing.”

“And he judged you worthy of this.” Djembe turned it over and flicked the blade. The clear, metallic ring sang of perfection for one long second.

She croaked an answer, then cleared her throat and tried again. “Yes.”

“Mm.” He tossed the dagger in the air, flipping it end over end, and caught it by the blade. Presenting it to her, he said, “It’s not a sword.”

She took it, making an extreme effort to avoid cutting his hand until he let go. “No.”

“Mm.” Returning to his mug, he picked it up and sipped at it.

“Uh.” Claire gulped. “Do you know how to fight with a dagger?”

“Yes.”

Of course he did. To learn properly, she’d have to come to him and hope he cared more about the mission of the Knights than anything else. Other Knights probably also knew the skill, but she’d have to find one. Until then, Djembe would be her best bet. “Oh. Uh. Would you, um, that is, do you have time to show…Justin how to train me?”

After a long pause, during which he sipped his coffee and kept his face blank, he said, “I can teach you directly. It would be simpler.”

“I, uh, I’ll think about it.” Claire stepped out of the room and tried not to flee. She walked away, teeth chattering and limbs wooden while her mind churned through the conversation. Nothing about that exchange had been terrifying. He hadn’t threatened her or called her names. When she let him hold her dagger, he’d never once held it like he wanted to stab her. He’d even offered to help her.

She wished he’d shouted in her face so she had a reason to quake in her boots. Would she fear him so much if he hadn’t tried to kill her the first time they met?

“I don’t like him,” Enion said, interrupting her thoughts.

“Neither do I.”

He pressed his face against her cheek. “Everything is okay.”

She took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Chapter 11

Claire

After wandering up the Thoroughfare for a while, Enion having dozed off around her neck, Claire noticed the side rooms came in different sizes and shapes. She passed a small, round room with several men eating and laughing. In a large, rectangular room with mirrors for walls, four men sparred with wooden practice swords. Several cozy square rooms held men talking.

One medium room had more mirrors, but in this one, an older man stood at the front and demonstrated ballroom dancing on a hardwood floor. Though she had things to do, curiosity drove Claire to peer around the jamb and watch. Music filled the room without an instrument in sight. The men, in casual, loose clothing, watched and mimicked the teacher with stern, serious discipline.

The older man noticed Claire and his face lit up. No Knight other than Justin or Rondy had been happy to see her before now. “Ah!
La fille
,” he said with a thick French accent. “Come in, come in.”

“Oh. Uh, I was on my way—”

He hurried to her, took her hand, and led her into the room. “Do you know how to waltz?”

“Uh, no?”

“A shame, that. Come, like this.” The instructor arranged her, took her hands, and whisked her around. “
Un, deux, trois
,” he repeated as she stumbled over her feet, trying to keep up.

She’d never danced before, unless jumping up and down to a throbbing beat counted. The fourth time he started his count, she caught on to the rhythm, and by the eighth, she moved her feet the way he did. So long as no one interrupted, she could keep this up.

“Ah, look! You are dancing,
mademoiselle
. You see,
messieurs
, this is how it is done with a
partnenaire
. I signal with my hand, and she knows we turn to the left. We move together. Not the same, but
complémentaire
. Each half has a role and must play it for both to succeed. Then you practice and can do things more complex, more
élaboré
.”

Claire grinned up at the man, pleased she’d picked this up so fast. He waggled his eyebrows and spun her around, which made her trip over her feet. Without him holding onto her, she would’ve fallen. Laughter rang in the room, and she blushed.

“Um, I actually have, uh, someplace to be. Thank you for the lesson.”

The teacher bowed to her as he let her go. “
Avec plaisir, mademoiselle
. Join us sometime for a full lesson.”

Not sure if she wanted to or not, Claire bobbed her head and rushed out. Although the sidetrack had been fun, she needed to find Rondy. She didn’t know which room was his, so she chose to check the library. She found it within a few minutes of making that decision and grabbed the iron ring like she’d seen Justin do. When she pulled, nothing happened. Justin had made it look heavy, but not
this
heavy. With a grunt, she yanked on the iron ring again, and still had no luck. She panted and tried one more time, to no avail.

“Do you need help?” This Knight had an Australian accent and wore black biker leathers with patches of skulls, lightning bolts, and angry horses. He smirked at her, but she’d take whatever help she could get.

“How do I open the door?”

“Just like you do anything else here, rook.” He touched the tip of his pinky finger to the iron ring. The door swung open.

“Oh.”

The Knight rapped the top of her skull and walked away laughing.

“Sure. Obviously,” Claire said with a sour smirk. “The way you open a door is to think at it. Anyone should be able to figure that out. Duh.” She rubbed the top of her head even though it didn’t hurt. “Jerk.”