“We come up here in the dark,” he said, “when we go running at night.”
“You don’t use a lighted path?”
“There’s enough light to see.”
“Oh.” She imagined everyone running with their flashlights jiggling out in front of them.
“Now you’ve seen it, so you’ll have a mental picture of it when we run up here tonight.”
Tori looked around the clearing and the uneven path that led to it. Yep, she had a mental picture. She had a mental picture of herself sitting on her bed going through text messages instead of running.
Jesse glanced at his watch. “I’d better take you back to camp now. Dr. B won’t be happy if I make you late for your dragon mythology class.”
So he knew her class schedule, too. Didn’t these people have any sense of privacy?
Jesse rode his horse back down the trail, and Tori followed, enjoying the graceful lilt of Noche’s gait and the way his black coat gleamed in the sunlight. She and Jesse didn’t talk again until they got to the wide part. Then Tori, partially to be polite and partially because she was curious, said, “So do you live around here?”
“D.C.,” he said.
“What do your parents do?”
He shot her a look as though she’d asked how much money they made. “My parents are teachers.”
She pretended not to notice the edge in his voice. “That must be nice when you need help with your homework. What grade are you?”
“I’ll be a senior.”
So he wasn’t much older. “What school do you go to?”
He tilted his head, his expression guarded. “Why do you ask?”
“Just making small talk.”
He didn’t answer. He was studying her, though she wasn’t sure what he hoped to figure out.
She let out a sigh. “Look, I’m sorry for what I said in the parking lot. Really. But are you going to be this way the whole time?”
“What way?”
“Sullen. Moody.” She would have added another adjective, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on what else he was.
“You think I’m sullen and moody?” he asked with as much astonishment as offense.
“Yeah. This is a camp. It’s supposed to be fun, but you’re acting like a drill sergeant.”
His eyes narrowed. “A drill sergeant? That would make this a military camp, I suppose?”
He was studying her again, waiting for her reaction.
Suspicious
. That was the other adjective that described him.
She forced a smile in his direction. “You know, you really need to work on your small-talk skills.” And then, because she didn’t want to try and resuscitate the conversation, she urged her horse to go faster. Noche happily galloped the rest of the way down the trail.
When Tori reached the field, it was empty. The rest of the campers must have found something more entertaining to do than wait for her return. Good. She rode Noche over to the stables, stroking his mane, and cooing words of thanks to him.
Booker, unsmiling, came out to meet her. “Where’s Jesse?”
Before she could answer, Booker looked past her. “Oh, there he is.”
She turned and saw Jesse riding across the field behind her. General’s mane swished in the breeze, and he held his proudly, like he was returning victoriously from battle. She had hoped she’d left Jesse behind on the trail, though she’d never checked to see if he had sped up to follow her. She hadn’t wanted to let him know she cared either way.
“Everything go okay?” Booker asked.
“Yep.” Tori dismounted and walked the last few steps to Booker. “Noche is a great horse.”
Booker grunted as he took the reins. “That’s true enough, but you weren’t riding Noche. This here is Bane.” Booker reached up to stroke the horse’s neck. The horse tossed his head and took a step backward, annoyed by Booker’s hand. “Got named for Dragon’s Bane, but it’s more accurate to say he’s the bane of my existence. Just plain ornery most of the time.”
“Oh,” Tori said, a little breathless at this information. Booker had given her the harder horse after all. “Well, he behaved himself for me.”
“I imagine he did.” Booker looked at Jesse as he said this.
“She’s had ten years of riding lessons,” Jesse said. “Of course she’s learned a few things about handling horses.”
“Of course,” Booker said, but it didn’t sound like agreement. “I’m sure that’s why Bane’s taken to her.”
Jesse dismounted and turned to Tori. “Mythology class is back up at the main camp. It’s in the building next to the cafeteria. You’ll need to take one of the carts, follow the trail we used to come down here, and park at the office.” His eyes didn’t leave hers. “No one else is allowed to use the carts or come out here, so don’t even mention this part of camp to anybody, okay?”
He waited for her to answer.
“Okay,” she said.
Instead of giving General’s reins to Booker, Jesse headed to the stable himself. “I’ll see you later,” he called.
Tori supposed this ended her orientation of Dragon Camp. Well, that was fine. It wasn’t like she wanted to spend time with him and his friends anyway. In fact, she planned on doing as little of it as possible from now on.
I
nstead of going straight to class, Tori made a detour to the showers. Her jeans were dusty from the horseback riding and she was afraid her shirt smelled sweaty. And, of course, a person’s hair never looked good after being smashed into helmets most of the morning. Besides, who knew what the shower schedule would be like later? She took a brief shower—brief even by Jesse’s Spartan rinse, lather, rinse standards—then threw on khaki shorts and a casual top. She French braided her hair, applied a touch of makeup, and walked to the back of the rifle range where the carts were parked.
As she slipped behind the wheel, she looked up at the roof. Just like at the main office, a small camera peeked out of its eaves.
Did the camp have a problem with vandals or something?
She turned on the cart, backed it up, and glanced at the tree branches, checking for more cameras. Yep, there was another one, not far away.
It was only because she was scanning the area for cameras that she saw it.
Something was in the forest, watching her. At first she thought it was a person. It was tall enough. But when she turned to get a better look, it leaped upward. One moment a form was there, the next moment a blur of blue and red disappeared into the canopy of leaves.
She didn’t wait around to find out what it was. She took the cart out of reverse and pressed the gas pedal down, driving away from the spot as fast as she could.
Nothing pursued her. There was no sign, no noises from whatever had been in the woods. But her heart rate didn’t settle down for several minutes.
Dragon mythology class turned out to be a disappointment. It wasn’t that Dr. B was a bad teacher. He clearly knew a ton about history, and was good at asking questions that opened up discussions, but it was clear from the start of class that the rest of the students loved dragons; thought of them as flying hotrods or something.
Tori had come to camp in the hopes of understanding certain things about herself. Like why dragons always seemed to show up in her dreams, waiting outside her consciousness to pounce at her with gaping jaws. Sometimes when she went running through her subdivision at night, it wasn’t her heartbeat she heard thudding in her ears. It was a dragon’s. She could almost feel the deep inhale and exhale of its lungs, almost sense its presence hovering somewhere above her. If there was a way to vanquish these dragons, she wanted to know how.
Wasn’t that the whole point of this camp—to slay dragons, not enshrine them?
One guy even said, “Man, it would be so cool if they were real.”
It wouldn’t have been cool. It would have been awful. Tori had known this from the time she was four years old and she’d smashed her father’s glass dragon collection on the same day he’d brought it out of storage.
That was one of her earliest memories—her father yelling at her for destroying the figurines, while she’d stood there bewildered, wondering why he wasn’t thanking her. He, inexplicably, liked dragons.
In fact, on her eleventh birthday, her father had bought her two crystal dragons so she could start her own collection. Really, he should have known better than to give her that sort of gift.
Granted, she had read every dragon book around, and when she and Aprilynne were younger, they used to pretend they rode dragons. The two of them would rush through the house, arms outstretched, soaring in their imaginary world. It felt exhilarating and a bit wicked.
But Tori didn’t react well to the surprise theme of her eleventh birthday party. While the whole family sang “Happy Birthday,” Tori’s mother had brought in a cake frosted with fiery orange and pink flames. The crystal dragons stood in front of the glowing candles, peering at her with smug, treacherous eyes. Without thinking about it, Tori grabbed the dragons off the cake and threw them against the kitchen wall.
The crystal shattered with a chorus of cracks, then made popping sounds as the pieces hit the floor. She heard it perfectly because everyone stopped singing. They stared at her, open-mouthed, while pieces of glass skittered across the tile. She couldn’t explain to her parents why she’d done it. She didn’t know herself. She’d only said, “They looked mean.”
Her parents made her talk to a counselor for several months after that incident. The counselor, a woman who wore loud, flashy colors and had so many gold bracelets they tinkled like wind chimes, told Tori’s parents she was projecting her fears of failure, which she didn’t know how to deal with, into the shape of the dragon—a creature she couldn’t deal with. The counselor said Tori’s parents put too much pressure on her to be a high achiever, and it had created a deep fear of not measuring up to their expectations.
The counseling sessions ended abruptly after that. Not because
her parents were insulted, but because they knew they’d never pushed Tori to be a high achiever. Her parents didn’t even insist she get straight As like so many of her friends’ parents. They just told her to do her best in school. Which she did, if she happened to like the subject. If not, Bs were fine. After all, why overstudy when her dad could get her into any university she wanted?
Tori’s father had decided she just had a vivid imagination and would probably grow up to be a writer. Tori’s mother thought she had somehow transferred her own fear of dragons to her daughter. While Mrs. Hampton had been pregnant, she’d had a horrible nightmare about a dragon chasing her. For a solid year afterward, she couldn’t look at any sort of dragon without shuddering and feeling the chill of dragon claws against her spine.
She figured she must have said something about dragons during Tori’s formative years. Tori, in turn, internalized it and thought she needed to protect her family from this threat.
Tori liked that theory best, that her obsession with dragons meant she loved her family. Because she did. And that sounded so much better than being a writer or being unable to face failure.
Tori didn’t say much in Dr. B’s class. She even kept her mouth shut when he asked why dragon stories had shown up in so many societies.
Dragons had shown up everywhere,
Tori thought,
because they really existed once
. If she had said that, her classmates would’ve spent the rest of the month asking about her position on fairies and alien abductions.
So she sat in her chair silently. It figured. Even here surrounded by a bunch of dragon nerds, she was the odd one.
The only good thing about class was that it was filled with people who were about her age, and who seemed decidedly nicer than Alyssa and Lilly. Which meant Tori could ask Dr. B to transfer her to another cabin, and camp would get much better.
After class while Dr. B erased the white board, she went up to talk
to him about it. When he noticed her, he stopped erasing and smiled at her. “Did you get situated in cabin twenty-seven?”
She tapped her fingers against the edge of her notebook. “Um, I wanted to talk to you about that …” How could she put this without insulting the longtime campers who came early every year to help him set up? “I’m not sure I fit in with the girls in twenty-seven. Do any of the other cabins have openings?”
The smile dropped from his face, and she knew her efforts at diplomacy had failed. She had wounded him with the question. “What’s the problem with cabin twenty-seven?” he asked.
“Well, they’re such a tight-knit group already, and I understand that. They’re comfortable with each other, and I’m new, and …” And Lilly and Alyssa were petty. “I think it would be better if I moved to a different cabin.” As far away from cabin 26 as she could be, only she didn’t add that part, either.
His eyebrows drew together in concern. “Perhaps you got off on the wrong foot with the advanced campers, and if that’s the case, I apologize for them. They’re a wonderful group of kids—and you haven’t even met Bess and Rosa yet.” He laid his hand on her shoulder. “Give it a chance. Lilly and Alyssa are coming to invite you to have dinner with them. I’m sure they’re waiting right outside.” He patted her shoulder. “We’ll talk about this again in a day or two.”
A day or two? She didn’t even want to put up with Lilly and Alyssa for dinner. Only it seemed unreasonable to say so. Tori managed a weak smile, mumbled, “Okay,” and walked out of the room.
Lilly and Alyssa were nowhere in sight, which shouldn’t have surprised her. Dr. B didn’t understand teenage girls as well as he thought he did.
Tori caught up with a group of kids from her class and walked toward the cafeteria with them. She was about to go through the cafeteria doors when Lilly and Alyssa strolled up to her. Instead of appearing
friendly, the two girls seemed mildly put out. “Hey, we’re here to get you for dinner,” Lilly said.
“Thanks,” Tori said, “but I’m going to eat with the people from my class.”
Lilly and Alyssa blinked at her, apparently unwilling to believe she’d turned them down. “You’re supposed to eat with the advanced campers,” Alyssa said.
“Oh. Well, I’m not really an advanced camper, so I’m going to eat with the regular campers instead.”
Lilly scowled. “Suit yourself, but Dr. B won’t like it. You’re part of Jesse’s team.” Then she spun on her heel, and both she and Alyssa stalked off, their blonde hair swishing angrily. They headed toward a cart, which made Tori wonder if they ate meals back at their secret camp. She didn’t watch to find out.
Dinner consisted of hamburgers and fries, although the food had been given cutesy names. The potato wedges were now “dragon’s teeth,” which in Tori’s mind made them less appetizing. She had to keep reassuring herself that they were fried potatoes and that putting them in her mouth wouldn’t break her teeth into little shards.
Tori ate absentmindedly, letting the conversation flow past her like she was a boulder in a stream of words. That’s what it always felt like when she was in a large crowd. The voices sounded like multiple sound tracks lying on top of one another, and she either had to concentrate and block out all but one conversation, or she relaxed and let them all wash around her.
Then she heard her name. Not called. Just spoken. Someone was talking about her. She glanced in that direction and saw Jesse, Dirk, Lilly, and Alyssa standing against the far wall by the door. They were staring at her and stopped talking when she looked up.
She forced a smile, which only Dirk returned. Even indoors his
surfer-boy blond hair had gorgeous highlights. Probably all natural. He didn’t look like the type that would set foot in a salon.
Tori wondered if the group had come here to reinvite her to eat dinner with them. She returned her attention to the people around her, but she tuned them out and strained to hear a few more words of the advanced campers’ conversation. She shouldn’t have been able to hear any of it. They stood too far away. And yet when they spoke again, she heard them.
Jesse said, “So much for your theory that Tori is a spy.”
Dirk’s voice held none of the friendliness his smile had. “Just because she’s really here and not snooping around doesn’t mean she’s legit.”
“I don’t trust her,” Lilly said. “Where has she been for the last five years?”
“She might have reasons,” Jesse said.
“If the authorities wanted to snoop around,” Dirk put in, “she’s the type they’d send. We already know she has connections with the government. And she stunk at archery. You said so yourself.”
Jesse’s voice stayed even. “Dr. B trusts her. So does Bane.”
Lilly let out a scoffing grunt. “Dr. B is an optimist, and Bane is a horse. Don’t tell me you’re going to trust a horse’s judgment.”
Jesse nearly conceded the point, but not quite. “The horse is impartial.”
“And yet it’s still a
horse
,” Lilly said.
“Dr. B is just desperate,” Alyssa added. “He’s trying to make up for the fact that we’ve lost Leo and Danielle.”
“We haven’t lost them yet.” The pain in Jesse’s voice made Tori look up, as though his expression would explain everything. It didn’t, and the group stopped talking again.
Tori forced her gaze back to the table and the people around her, not really seeing them as she tried to process what she’d heard. Why
were they worried about anyone snooping around? What was there to find? And why the reference to her archery score—which hadn’t stunk, but had been impressive—well, impressive until Jesse had shot a bull’s-eye without facing the target.