Chapter 36

The trees provide some protection from the rain, if not the damp. Everything is wet—the bare branches of vine maples and the leaves of the innumerable sword ferns and other shrubs blanketing the forest floor. The ground is muddy, swampy in places. I’m glad for my waterproof gear.

Mauve sets a fast pace through the trees as impervious to the branches and brambles as she is to the rain and cold. I struggle to keep pace, even tripping over a fallen branch hidden by the undergrowth. I windmill my arms and do a two-step to keep my balance. If not for the excellent low-light capabilities of my prosthetics, I would have already twisted my ankle in the murk.

We head up a steep incline, a leisurely stroll for Mauve but a hard slog for me. We come to a halt on a rock outcrop screened by tall conifers. Mauve’s golem shows no sign of fatigue, and her draconic form gleams like a beacon in the darkness. I pant and clench the painful stitch in my side. She really did set a grueling pace, and maybe I’m still not fully recovered from the battle at the beach.

“Can you turn into a skaag at will?” Mauve asks.

“No. I don’t know how I transformed at the beach. It just happened,” I say, rubbing my side and trying to catch my breath between words.

“Interesting,” Mauve says, staring unblinkingly at me from behind her glasses. Her dragon eyes watch me too, just as intently. “Frederick rescued you from the water, correct?”

“Yes. I was human when he rescued me, trying to swim to safety. I would have drowned. The current pulled me far from shore.”

“So, while in the water, you transformed,” Mauve says, steepling her hands and pacing before me. “Fascinating. Skaags are shapeshifters. The ability to alter their form is innate to their physiology. Much like how dragons can move in and out of the slipstream. You may find it magical. For us, it is simply a function of our bodies.”

“Why aren’t my prosthetics destroyed when I transform?”

Mauve stops pacing and shrugs. “I’m not an expert on skaag physiology.” She smiles and resumes pacing. “Magic maybe.”

I frown. A question for another day then.

“Do you remember anything about what spurred your transformation?” Mauve asks.

I drum my fingers against the sides of my legs and begin to pace alongside her. “When I transformed into a skaag, I was scared. I feared for my life. I feared for my friends and family. I knew as soon as Mark Cassidy killed Dr. Radcliffe, he’d come for me, my friends, and my dad. I knew I had to do something—” I draw a jittery breath. “—or everyone I care about would be dead. I transformed. It just happened.”

“You were afraid, and your body reacted to defend you.”

“The sleeper woke.”

Mauve stops pacing. “What did you just say?”

I come to a halt several feet from Mauve and face her. “The sleeper woke. That’s what I call it or used to call it. The presence inside me. The skaag. Before I came to realize we are one and the same.”

Both sets of Mauve’s eyes narrow. “Do you still sense this second presence?”

“I do. As part of me.”

“And when you transformed back into a human, did it just happen or…”

The words hang in the air like a bad smell. Did I consciously transform into a human, or did it just happen? Remembering drowning makes me feel like I can’t breathe. I don’t want to remember the icy numbness caused by the seawater in my lungs, but I do. I half clear my throat, half cough, and nearly double over expecting saltwater to gush from my mouth. Of course, it doesn’t. Just memories.

“Well? Did you consciously take human form or not?” Mauve asks. Her tone is demanding, almost prosecutorial. I’m beginning to not like this side of her.

“I…I knew I couldn’t hold my breath as a skaag. I couldn’t swim, but I knew I could swim as a human. So I concentrated on changing. I willed myself to change. I kept repeating to myself over and over again to be human. Eventually, it happened.”

“Concentrate on transforming then. Make it happen,” Mauve demands and strides to the edge of the outcrop.

I stop pacing, cross my arms before my chest, and glare at her. “Easy for you to say. You know what you are. You’ve probably been passing in and out of the slipstream all your life.”

“Taking your fear and frustration out on me won’t help you transform. You need to relax. Clear your mind and concentrate.”

“Fine.” I say and uncross my arms.

I close my eyes and try to concentrate on morphing into a skaag. The outcrop isn’t as sheltered as the forest proper. The rain pummels me. Even with my hood up, liquid splashes against my cheeks. My clothing is fleece-lined, but it’s still damn cold out. I don’t know how long I’ve been trying to transform when, without preamble, the air tingles with electricity. My eyes shoot open. Electrical arcs crackle from Mauve as she emerges from the slipstream. One arc burns a patch of rock black, and another nearly grazes a treetop. I back away, a surge of trepidation making my muscles tense, and my eyes go wide. Intellectually, I know she won’t hurt me, but my reactions are not predicated by conscious thought.

Mauve is a burnished copper dragon, long and svelte. On either side of her snout hang two black tentacles that end just below her lower jaw. The tentacles sway in the pelting rain. The dragon stares at me with coppery almost fiery eyes, split vertically by pupils as dark as black holes. I’m standing a good ten to fifteen feet away from the beast, but even still I can feel the heat radiating off her as searing as a blast furnace. She carefully picks up her golem in a clawed hand and moves the now statue-like human facsimile out of the way near the tree line. Then without warning, she spins toward me, her mouth a gaping maw full of gleaming fangs.

I scramble backward, losing my footing on the slick rock. My feet fly out from under me, and I land painfully on my butt and utter a yelp that I can’t hear over Mauve’s enraged shriek. The sulfurous stink of rotten eggs fills the clearing, and deep in Mauve’s abysmal mouth are fizzing flames. Fear pounds through my body, then my bones are breaking, my flesh and sinew ripping, and organs violently rearranging. I utter a gurgling scream as pain expels cogent thought.

Mauve looms over me. She’s about to burn me to death with dragon fire. My hide will defend me for a short time, but I’m not powerful enough to escape or defeat her. My head throbs, blood roiling. Stinging shocks sizzle over my black body, like static electric discharges. A yellow bolt shoots upward, nearly singeing Mauve’s snout. The dragon pulls away and retreats across the rock in two long strides. Her claws go to her face. I realize, in surprise, that I might have hurt her. I don’t know if I should be glad or afraid.

More electricity arcs through the air. Then Mauve is back to riding the slipstream once again, and her golem is full of life. I curl like a rattlesnake in the air, hovering just above the rock. I’m levitating, flying! This is so amazing.

“Just as I thought. An instinctual reaction to danger,” Mauve says.

Ah, I can understand her even as a skaag.

“Go ahead. Try to transform back into a human.”

I hesitate to follow the command. I want to remain a skaag a little longer, experiencing flight and the prowess of this body. All the scents of the forest and even the golem are sharp and distinctive. Even though I know it’s impossible, it seems like I can hear each individual raindrop patter against my scaly hide. The water makes me nervous, irrationally so. Deep inside me something knots, perhaps my stomach. It’s an uncomfortable sensation, like I’m suffering from norovirus. Still, I turn my head skyward, wishing to fly up and touch the stars. Rain plummets from the cloudy sky. A droplet strikes me in the eye, stinging like acid. A rumbling growl, an expression of annoyance, vibrates my chest.

Blinking, I turn my gaze back to the clearing. Mauve watches me. I try to will myself back into human form. It doesn’t work. I growl again, body shaking, angry at myself and Mauve. I’m frightened that I’m going to be stuck as a skaag forever unless I try to drown myself again.

“Your friends will be up in a few hours,” Mauve says. “You’ve shredded your clothes, so unless you want them to see you naked, you better hurry up.”

My transformation is immediate and excruciating. I lie on the ground, whimpering and shivering. Rainwater runs down my naked body.

Mauve stands over me, smiling. “That confirms it. You transform instinctually in reaction to fear.”

****

By our third morning at The Rainier Hostel, I’m dog tired. Even the steaming cup of coffee on the café’s table doesn’t perk me up.

“Are you getting any sleep?” Dalia asks.

It’s just the two of us. Everyone else is still asleep except for Mauve, but she shows little interest in leaving the room during the day. The night is another matter.

“Some,” I say. “The bed is uncomfortable.”

Dalia takes a sip of coffee. “I’m sleeping great. Better than I expected. But…Devin did wake me up last night with his snoring.”

She looks at me expectantly. I bite my lower lip. She must know I wasn’t in the room. What do I tell her? Oh, I’ve been sneaking off in the middle of the night to go with Mauve to practice transforming into a monster that can shoot lightning.

“I noticed you have new boots and a jacket. You bought them at the outfitter across the road?” Dalia says.

I nod. After ruining my jacket, boots, and other clothing, I always make sure to strip before practicing transformation.

“You know, when Dr. Radcliffe brought you to Mauve’s house, you were naked.”

I snatch my coffee cup off the table to hide my blushing face behind it.

Dalia sets down her cup. “Don’t worry. You were covered in a blanket. You transformed on the beach. You did in the warehouse too. I didn’t see what happened, but afterward, your clothes were shredded.”

I take a slurp of coffee. It’s hot and flavorful, but not quite as strong as I like. “Mauve is taking me into the woods in the middle of the night to practice.” I drop my voice to a whisper. “Transforming. Does anyone else know?”

Dalia shrugs. “I haven’t said anything to anyone. Devin is just a kludge who is busy feeling sorry for himself. I don’t think he’d notice. Jason and Leslie are too into each other to pay attention to anyone else.”

I set down the mug. My hands are clammy. “Does Haji know?”

Dalia looks thoughtful. “Ordinarily, I don’t think he’d notice your new jacket and boots. They look pretty close to what you had, but he does have eyes for you.”

The aroma of fried bacon precedes the waiter bringing us our food. It’s bacon and eggs for me, and a bagel with cream cheese for Dalia. I ask for a refill on my coffee and attack my bacon. I barely taste the meat as I swallow it, yet there is still something primally satisfying to scarfing it. By the time the waiter returns to refill our coffee mugs, the bacon is gone. Two fried eggs and hash browns remain on my plate, but I don’t find either appetizing. Dalia has only taken two bites of her bagel.

“Still craving meat,” Dalia says.

I look away, staring at the scuffed wood floor.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Dalia says and adds in a whisper, “You’re different.”

I turn my gaze back to her and whisper, “After transforming, I hunger for raw meat.”

Dalia chokes on her bagel. I’m ready to leap up and start pounding on her back, but she holds up a hand and swallows. “I’m okay. I’m okay.”

“Do I frighten you?”

“No,” Dalia says, sounding scandalized. “It’s just…you used to hate meat. You were nearly vegetarian. That’s all.” She looks around the café. There are a few guests, but none sit very close, and most are engaged in conversations. “How goes the nighttime training?”

I glance around the café to make sure the waiter isn’t nearby.

“I can transform at will,” I say, leaving out how excruciating transformation is. I don’t want Dalia to worry about me. “I can shoot lightning, but only when I’m threatened. But I’m becoming more powerful. Mauve thinks I can do real damage with my lightning discharge. It’s enough to collapse the gateway. I’m not practicing that anymore. Mauve is afraid it might attract another skaag.”

Dalia’s mouth hangs open. “No, don’t sacrifice yourself. Let one of the dragons destroy the gateway.”

“I don’t plan to if I can avoid it.”

Dalia leans forward, gaze intense. “You. Don’t. Plan. To. Period!”

My lips form a grim line. “Dalia, I don’t want to, really. It’s just—”

“Allison! Dalia!”

It’s Haji. He’s breathless. He stomps across the diner to our table. His eyes linger on me. I look away. Dalia winks at me. Cringing, I grab my coffee and take a long swig, nearly draining it.

“We need to go,” Haji says. “Mauve got the call.”