Chapter 20

I breathe easier when Ion leaves The Obsidian Roast. She swaggers down the sidewalk in the cold December air. Steam escapes from her mouth like puffs of smoke. The diaphanous silver dragon projecting from the officer swaggers too.

“Is she like Dr. Radcliffe?” Dalia whispers.

“Yes.”

“Can you see her dragon?”

“It’s slender. Silver. Beautiful.”

Ion hangs a left onto 43rd, crossing the street and disappearing from sight behind buildings.

“We need to get them on camera. As dragons,” Haji says.

“How? We just go up to one of them and ask politely? That’s crazy. Ion will shoot us,” Dalia says.

Haji shrugs and takes a bite of his croissant sandwich. With his mouth full, he says, “I don’t think Dr. Radcliffe will hurt us. He should be easy to find. We just need to hang around the university.”

I rip a hunk off my cinnamon roll and dip it in my coffee, then shove the dripping, gooey delectation into my mouth. I follow up the food with a long swig of black gold. My head is still bursting, but the coffee and pastry have taken the edge off my headache. I lean over and unzip my backpack and take out my algebra book. I’m too exhausted and overwhelmed to think about the dragons right now.

“Seriously? You’re going to study?” Dalia asks.

“We have tests tomorrow.” I flip open the thick textbook. “You and Haji might be all caught up, but I was out of school for weeks. If I don’t study, I’m going to bomb my exams.”

“Can you give me your account of last night while it’s still fresh in your mind?” Haji asks.

“I don’t want to think about that right now,” I say.

Dalia looks aghast. “How can you say that?” she continues in a whisper. “Ion threatened to eat us. She threatened to eat anyone we talk to about…about them. This is serious, Allison. This is way more important than stupid tests.”

“Give me a couple hours to study,” I say. “Then maybe I’ll be ready to talk about last night. I know this might sound weird after last night, but I really, really, really don’t want to flunk.”

Dalia throws up her arms in disgust. “Give me a break.”

Haji pats her on a shoulder. “Take it easy. Allison needs some time. We should study too. Life doesn’t stop.”

“Dragons, Haji, dragons,” Dalia says.

“Please, I just need a little time to study,” I say. “That’s all.”

“All right. You win. Life doesn’t stop,” Dalia says.

My friends allow me to study, although I’m not sure that they study. As I work quadratic equations, Dalia spends her time staring into space, and Haji is engrossed with something on his laptop screen. I can’t complain, though. Dalia helps me when I ask for assistance solving some gnarly equations, and Haji purchases us a second round of coffee.

After an hour or so, Dalia loosens up a little, and we quiz each other on American history. Dates and events that we think will show up on the exam. After precisely two hours, Haji interrupts us.

“I have an idea.”

I glumly stare at him. “We’re busy.”

“Give us five more minutes,” Dalia says. “We’re almost through the Civil War.”

“Allison said two hours,” Haji says, frowning, but falls silent and turns his attention back to his laptop.

Five minutes later, the laptop starts making an annoying dinging sound. I slam a hand against the table, rattling the cups in their saucers, and glare at Haji. He flinches.

“That is seriously annoying, Haji,” Dalia says.

“Five minutes is up.”

“Okay,” I say. “What is it? This fantastic idea you have.”

“Your prosthetics,” Haji says. “Can they do recordings? You know, have some onboard memory.”

“I don’t know.”

“Maybe they do. Like for diagnostics.”

Dalia perks up. “That’s a good idea. We should go see Dr. Woolworth. She working today?”

I shrug.

“Your dad didn’t mention anything?” Dalia asks.

“All he did was yell at me about last night.”

“Tell me about it. My mom and dad cornered me in the bathroom. I couldn’t get out of the house fast enough,” Dalia says.

Haji gives us a puzzled look. “Your parents gave you a hard time for staying out late?”

“We were out past curfew,” I say. “Isn’t your curfew like eleven?”

“I just told them I was with you two, and they were okay with that.”

Dalia and I exchange a glance and roll our eyes.

Haji shakes his head. “Your parents are harsh. Allison, how about you give me your account of last night before we go see Dr. Woolworth?”

****

A cold wind rustles skeletal tree branches as we trek across the Tahoma University campus toward the Robotics Technology Center. I pull my heavy winter coat tight around me and put up the hood. It’s midday, so a few people are out and about, mostly students burdened with backpacks or books thick enough to be religious tomes. The sky is a stunning azure, and the sun is warm against my skin, but to the northwest is an imposing wall of dark clouds stretching across the horizon.

“Might have snow tonight,” Haji says.

I think about Joe and the other homeless people around campus and the city at large. The cold nights are hard on them, and there are never enough beds, especially for the men. I bite my lip, thinking I should track down Joe and invite him to spend the night at my place, but past experience tells me he will refuse the offer.

“That’s good for you, Allison,” Dalia says. “You’ll have more time to study when school is canceled.”

I nod, noncommittal. The truth is I want to go to school to have something to do that will keep me from obsessing over the dragons, maybe alleviate the sense that I’m being watched for a few hours. I don’t think Ion or Dr. Radcliffe will show up uninvited in one of my classrooms, at least I hope not.

The Robotics Technology Center is uncomfortably warm after the outdoor chill. I pause just inside the entrance, drop my backpack to the ground, and strip off my coat. Haji does the same, but Dalia shakes her head and keeps her coat zipped to her chin and her hood up. A few people sit, either reading or studying, at low white circular tables interspersed around the first floor.

“What if you do have a recording of the dragon?” Dalia says. “What then? Aren’t we putting Dr. Woolworth and your dad in danger?”

“Maybe,” I say. “But we have to fight back somehow. If we don’t, they’re going to walk all over us.”

“I’ll never be able to forgive myself if they do something to them,” Dalia says and chews on the tip of her thumb.

“You’re right. Maybe this is a bad idea,” I say, frowning.

“It’s too late to have second thoughts,” Haji says. “We need video. Once we blow the lid off this thing, it will be too late for them to do anything. Everyone will know. The footage will be on Channel 5 tonight, maybe even the national news. We upload a video to the Internet, and I guarantee it will go viral like you wouldn’t believe. Everyone will know. We just need the footage.” He points at me. “That might be on the prosthetics.”

“I don’t know…” Dalia trails off as the door opens behind us.

A young couple, neither more than three years older than us, walk in holding hands.

“Excuse us,” the girl says, a tall, snooty, athletic-looking blonde who reminds me of Leslie Chapman.

We move a few feet away from the entrance, clustering by a leafy potted tree.

“Ion threatened to eat anyone we tell,” Dalia whispers. “She can show up any time.”

“Quiet,” Haji whispers.

“What?” Dalia and I ask at the same time.

“Jinx,” Haji blurts, then stammers, “It’s…it’s Mr. Lee.”

My shoulders sag. Dad is the last person I want to see. My father, bundled up in Patagonia fleece, enters the building.

“Hi, Dad,” I say, putting all the faux excitement I can into my voice in the hope that might blunt his anger over last night.

He stares at us. After blinking several times, he says, “Hi, Allison. Dalia. Haji. Funny meeting all of you here. I was just thinking about all of you. Late night, huh?”

My shoulders tense.

“Later than we expected, Mr. Lee,” Haji says. “It’s my fault. I’m supposed to keep track of the time. Sometimes I get lost in the beat. Dancing is such fun.”

I relax a little. Fortunately, we had discussed our cover story before leaving The Obsidian Roast. Dalia and I have a default story for missing curfew, out late dancing, so I’m confident Dad won’t have heard anything contradictory from Dalia’s mom.

“Huh, that so,” Dad says, nodding. “Why are you kids here?”

I wince. I hate it when Dad calls my squad and me kids like we’re still in diapers.

“I dropped some cash last night,” Haji says. “We’re hoping Allison’s prosthetics recorded something.”

I keep my face impassive. I have to hand it to Haji. He can think quickly on his feet. The lie sounds totally convincing.

“The prosthetics might have recorded something, but the memory is flushed every hour. Sorry,” Dad says.

“You’re sure?” I ask.

“I wrote the routine myself,” Dad says. “You kids are welcome to come up to the lab, but Jane can’t help you.”

There he goes again, calling us kids. It makes me want to scream. Haji, polite as ever, engages Dad in conversation. Dalia starts tapping me on the shoulder.

I round on her and snap, “What?”

She startles, eyes wide and lower lip quivering. She points out the tall windows onto the campus. I look to where she indicates and gasp.

“Is that him?” Dalia asks.

“Haji, we have to go,” I say.

“What? Why? Don’t you want to go up?”

I grab the gangly boy by the forearm and pull him toward the door. I call over my shoulder, “Bye, Dad.”

Dalia follows us outside into the bracing cold. I shiver, but I don’t bother to stop to put on my winter coat as I march toward Dr. Radcliffe, who watches us approach some fifty feet away from a pathway on the far side of a patch of exposed grass. He is dressed for the weather, and his draconic companion stands over him, its head lost in the branches of a tall Douglas fir. My friends drop back and call for me to stop, but I ignore them.

Dr. Radcliffe watches me approach from behind his spectacles that I doubt he needs. I have a feeling that dragons have excellent vision. It’s all part of a disguise, camouflage. The man before me is just an automaton, a mindless drone controlled by the shimmering monster riding the slipstream. I stop less than an arm’s length from him, staring into his gray eyes and doing my damnedest to ignore the golden beast with its tail stretching down the path and into the shrubbery.

“Allison, good afternoon,” Dr. Radcliffe says. An icy gust of wind howls through the campus. I grimace and shiver. “You must put on your coat, dear girl, or you will catch the sniffles.”

“We didn’t tell him anything, do you understand? My father, Raymond Lee, we didn’t tell him anything. We didn’t tell Dr. Woolworth anything either. You leave them alone. You tell Ion to leave them alone.”

Dr. Radcliffe gives me a toothless smile. “It is good that you did not tell them anything. If you did, I might not be capable of stopping Officer Davenport from doing something…rash. Good day to you, my dear.”

With that, Dr. Radcliffe turns his back to me and strolls away. His draconic companion follows, bathing me and its surroundings in twinkling golden light.

Haji and Dalia catch up to me. Both have their phones out and are taking pics of Dr. Radcliffe.

“Did you get a photo of the dragon?”

Haji holds up his phone. On the screen is a photo of a tall man walking in the snow. There is no sign of the golden dragon.

“Nada,” Dalia says.

“Do you think your prosthetics recorded the dragon?” Haji asks.

“I doubt it.” I shake my head.

“It might be worth checking,” Haji says.

Dalia nods in agreement.

“No. It’s too risky. He said if they suspect we’ve told my dad or Dr. Woolworth anything, Ion will kill them. Besides, if your phones can’t record the dragons, my prosthetics probably can’t either. I can see them for some other reason. Maybe because of this skaag thing they keep calling me.”