Chapter Ten

Safina

I had thought keepingup with my mother was taxing, but I had to work twice as hard to match Abby's pace, leaving not much time to take in all the wondrous sights and sounds of Galveston. Horse carts, people, and even a trolley car buzzed by. But when a boy glided past us on an odd two-wheeled contraption, pedaling gears in smooth circles, I was so in awe of the sight, I stumbled and knocked into Abby's backside.

I fell on one knee, wincing as pain shot up my leg. I had not grown accustomed to walking, much less while dressed in such cumbersome skirts and shoes.

Abby held out a hand. "First day with your new feet?" She laughed as she helped me up.

If only she knew,I thought, embarrassed and aggravated by her teasing.

I shrugged off Abby's hand and brushed sand and grime from my dark dress. In order to avoid the crush of people along the road, I hobbled toward the alcove of a large building.

"You walk too fast," I said to Abby, leaning against the cool stone of the structure.

Abby's smile faded, and she laced her fingers through mine. "Are you hurt?"

Though my knee throbbed, I feared if I complained overly much, Abby would take me back to Mrs. Jenkens's house. I had not burst free of my prison only to be locked away again. I shrugged. "Only a little."

"I'm sorry." Abby squeezed my hand. "From now on, I shall walk at a snail's pace." Then she reached into a skirt pocket, revealing two of the fragrant pastries from Mrs. Jenkens's parlor. "Here. I saw you drooling over these. Moses truly does make the best molasses cookies."

"Molasses cookies?" I eagerly took the offering and bit into sweet goodness. "Is that what these are named?"

"Yes." Merriment danced in Abby's eyes as I devoured one cookie and then reached for the other.

"Ohhh," I moaned. "'Tis like sinking my mouth into warm, honeyed heaven."

"You're silly." Abby chuckled, nudging me in the shoulder. "I like you."

She liked me!Despite the building pain in my knee, I smiled as warmth flooded my heart. For the first time in my life, I was making friends with a mortal. One more reason I could never return to my shell.

I was relieved when we set off again at a much slower pace. As we strolled alongside rows of elevated dwellings, the sand I had kicked up somehow found its way into my sturdy shoes. Again, I would not balk. The chafing of my skin was a welcome sensation after the endless dark sounds of the ocean. I arched a brow as the backs of familiar buildings came into view. We were walking behind the homes on Abby's street. "Are we going back home so soon?"

"No, Safi." Abby laughed as we turned another corner. She nodded toward a long, wooden structure that shot out over the sea. "We're going to the pier. We had to walk around the block, so Nana didn't see us."

I gasped. "But your nana forbade you...."

"What she doesn't know won't hurt her." There was no mistaking the mischievous sparkle in Abby's eyes. And to think the girl had been unconscious just that morning.

A woman in a ruffled shirt and flowing dark skirt passed us. Her arm was joined with that of a gentleman wearing one of those funny black hats that I had seen on so many of the other Galveston men. They laughed merrily while stepping onto the planks which I assumed were part of the pier. Neither the man nor the woman seemed perturbed by the prospect of walking above the torrent, so I assumed the pier was sturdy enough. How had Abby fallen off it?

"Come on." Abby tugged my elbow. "What are you waiting for?"

I took a tentative step. The plank rattled beneath me, making a hollow sound. "Is this stable?"

"Of course." Abby rolled her eyes with an exaggerated movement. "Surely you've been on a pier before."

"Aye." If by pier, Abby meant a few hand-strewn pieces of driftwood my mother had once fashioned into a fishing raft. I tried to smile while ignoring the quaking in my limbs. A dragon princess shouldn't be afraid of a piece of floating wood.

"Your mama healed me." Abby untied her bonnet and took it off, swinging it by her side and smiling up at the noonday sun as if she hadn't a care in the world. "She's blessed by the angels, isn't she?"

My eyes bulged. I remembered the time the villagers had said my mother was blessed by the angels. Within a fortnight, we'd been accused of witchcraft.

"Don't worry." Abby nudged me with a wink. "I won't tell. 'Sides, it's not me you have to worry about. Before you know it, half the town will be asking your mama to make house calls. My nana can't keep a secret. She's a regular Western Union."

I stopped mid-stride, paying little heed to the way the planks shook as others went by. I clutched my stomach, feeling as if those two molasses cookies had sunk to the bottom of my gut like lead stones. "But she gave her word. Crossed her heart."

Abby flashed a sideways smile. "Knowing my nana, the way she'll see it, is if she only tells a few folks it won't count as blabbing. Then those folks will tell a few folks, and pretty soon your mama will have a long line of callers wanting her to heal their aching knees and whooping coughs."

I gaped at Abby in stunned silence. A long line of callers? Josef had told us this country was far more vast than the village in which we'd lived. That their ruler had a great army and weapons called guns and cannons which could shoot a dragon out of the sky from a long distance. What would Mother and I do if the people of Galveston turned on us? Where would we hide? I knew I should warn my mother of impending danger, but then what? Would the dragon queen force me to go back into the cocoon, locking me away at the bottom of the lonely abyss? Against my better judgment, I decided not to tell Mother. Abby might be weaving a tale simply to frighten me. Aye, perhaps that was it. Abby seemed like the mischievous sort. She could be playing a trick.

I fell in beside Abby as we walked toward the side of the pier. We clutched a wooden banister while looking down at the waves splashing violently on the rocky shore.

I studied Abby's features, noting the melancholy way she frowned at the sea foam. "Is this where you fell?"

"Yes." Abby answered on a whisper as her eyes began to mist.

I still didn't understand how Abby could have fallen. "You climbed over the rails?"

Abby eyed me with a challenging glare. "I did." Her tone held little emotion, leaving me feeling cold and hollow.

I was not to be deterred. I had to understand Abby's purpose and whether or not she'd attempt to do it again. I didn't wish for my mother's healing to have been in vain, especially considering all the dragon queen had risked to give Abby life. "Why would you do such a thing?"

Abby's sun-touched skin paled and then flushed before she once more gazed at the sea foam. "I was with my friends. We were just... horsing around."

Whatever ‘horsing around' meant, I knew Abby lied. I sensed the girl's deception, for it clung to her skin and radiated off her bones, clouding her like a cloak, a cloak of lies.

"Abby!" We both spun around at the sight of two giggling girls waving wildly. The girls hastened toward us, their efforts hampered by their long black skirts, which made loud swishing sounds as they walked.

"Good grief," Abby muttered, hands clenched at her sides.

Though the girls beamed at Abby, their affection clearly wasn't returned. I wondered what they had done to offend Abby so.

The eager girls stopped within a breath of us, eyeing Abby with a mixture of surprise and relief.

The smallest of the two, who had pale wispy hair and a long nose that resembled a bird's beak, planted tiny fists on her hips. "Even as I see you with my own eyes standing here, I still don't believe it!"

The other girl, a tall reedy thing with wide chestnut eyes, dull brown hair, and an unhealthy gray pallor, wrung her hands together, her gaze shifting from her friend to Abby. "I wanted to come see you in the worst way, but Papa won't let me get within ten feet of a hospital." She ended on a rasp before coughing into her fist.

"How are you feeling?" the small girl asked, sounding more accusatory than concerned.

"Just peachy." Abby nodded at me. "Miss Irene Hesse and Miss Lydia Longwood, I'd like you to meet my new friend, Safi." Abby gaped at me for a moment. Then she covered her mouth and stifled a giggle. "Safina, I don't even know your last name."

I flushed as the girls stared pointedly at me. "Safi will do." Dare I tell them my surname? Or my royal name for that matter? Princess Safina Feira Firesblood, Protector of the Mortal Realm, Keeper of the Elements, Mistress of Fire, and heir to a long-dead legacy of ancient dragons, rulers of the earth until betrayed by humans.

Irene crinkled her beak nose while eyeing me with disdain. "Just Safi?"

"She's a bit of a greenhorn," Abby said curtly, "so go easy on her."

Irene's scowl disappeared in an instant, and she stepped back as if she'd been pushed by an invisible hand.

Lydia gave me a hesitant smile. "Pleased to meet you, Safi."

I shook Lydia's outstretched hand, realizing too late that I'd squeezed her fingers too hard. The girl winced before pulling away.

Lydia shook out her hand. "Your head doesn't even hurt? Not the slightest bit?" she asked Abby.

"Nope." Abby shrugged. "Not in the slightest."

"We thought you were going to die, and now here you are, on the pier of all places." Irene wagged a finger under Abby's nose. "I can't believe your nana gave you permission to come here again."

Abby looked away from Irene's iron-eyed gaze.

"Oh, Abby!" Irene squealed. "You don't have permission, do you?"

Abby jutted a foot forward, eyeing both girls with a stony glare. "You two had better not blab about it."

They shared nervous glances. I knew without a doubt, they planned to blab to the whole of Galveston.

"Charlotte has been worried sick about you. She's in a bad way and can hardly get out of bed." Irene patted her stomach as she and Lydia shared knowing smiles. "Maybe you should call on her."

"I'd love to," Abby said with an unaffected air, "but I promised Safi I'd show her around the city." She latched onto my elbow, pulling me to her side as if I was a shield.

Lydia clasped her hands together, her dull eyes brightening. "What better way to start than a visit to Broadway Street?"

"Charlotte has been our dearest friend since we were children, and she married one of the most sought-after bachelors in all of Galveston." Irene leaned toward me, speaking in an excited whisper. "She was an orphan, too, totally out of Mr. Carter's class, but he was so madly in love, he just had to marry her."

"Their marriage is like a fairytale," Lydia said in a dreamy voice, her eyes glassing over, clouded by a distant memory or perhaps a fantasy of her own. "An honest-to-goodness fairytale."

Irene playfully swatted Abby's shoulder and then turned up her long beak nose. "Oh, you simply must take Safi when you call on Charlotte."

Lydia eagerly nodded, speaking with the authority of a woman beyond her years. "You can drink tea from the finest porcelain in all of Texas."

Abby impatiently blew a stray wisp of hair out of her face. "Now you're exaggerating."

Lydia opened a small fan with a snap, waving it in front of her face with an exaggerated movement. "Not hardly. Charlotte told me herself she bought the tea set when they honeymooned in France. It has little red roses and real gold trim."

"We'd better skedaddle." Abby tugged my sleeve. "I wouldn't want Safina to miss out on gold trim. Come on," she growled.

As we walked noisily across the planks, I threw a glance over my shoulder. Lydia smiled, offering a hesitant wave, while Irene gaped at the back of Abby's skull.

Though I had never formed real friendships with mortal girls, I was pleased that neither Irene nor Lydia had called me names or thrown rocks at me. Surely mortals had grown kinder over the centuries.

"They seemed nice," I said.

Abby made a snorting sound. "They both pretend to be Galveston mucky mucks. They think some Jim Dandy is going to want to marry them, too, but neither of them is half as pretty as Charlotte." Abby seemed to be completely unaware, or perhaps just unaffected, at the grumblings from strangers as she moved through the crowd, trampling feet and skirts. "Ever since Charlotte married that banker, she's high falutin'." She continued to drag me out onto the street and past several fancy, horse-drawn carts. "She forgets it was just last year she was scrubbin' floors at St. Mary's Orphanage. The only time she ever got a decent meal was at my nana's house. Now it's caviar imported from France and fancy-pantsy ice cream. Not that I give a hoot. Her husband's got a horse face and a soup strainer mustache." Abby stopped for breath, placing a hand on her chest as people and horses whirred past.

I wasn't exactly sure what ‘mucky mucks,' ‘fancy pantsy,' and ‘giving a hoot' meant, but I was willing to wager Abby's tirade stemmed from envy.

"I'm not sure if she's receiving visitors today, but no matter." Abby's hand shook as she pushed a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. "If Charlotte can't make time for an old friend, then she's hardly a friend at all." With a stiff spine, she marched back from whence we'd come.

I reluctantly followed. Why did I get the feeling visiting this girl named Charlotte would feel as stifling as my shell beneath the sea?

* * *

Fiona

I LOOKED AWAY FROMthe mortal boy, Gabriel, unable to stand the sight of his feeble legs a moment longer. They dangled from his hips like two broken reeds. Such a shame, for twin flames were alight beneath the pools of his large, dark eyes, and I knew the boy was wise beyond his years.

He studied me, not as a hawk eyes a mouse, but as a pupil watches his teacher, while I smoothed a hand down his scrawny shins. He'd make a strong speaker one day, for I sensed the hum of magic pulsing off him. Whether he'd learn to harness it, I'd no idea. But he wouldn't be safe to himself or anyone if his magic went unchecked. I reminded myself this boy was almost a man now. Perhaps it was for the best he was relegated to that wooden wheeled chair.

If I healed him, he could turn against me as others had. He might use his newfound strength to lead a mob to our door. I would be risking Safina's life and my own if I restored his legs. But if I didn't, I would be bonded to Duncan forever. As long as our souls were tethered, Duncan could find us and finish off my race for good. Lamenting my lost love for an eternity was a fate worse than death.

A lump wedged in my throat as I quickly walked toward Josef's front porch. I needed air, more so than when I'd been trapped in my stifling shell. Though the air was so much warmer in Galveston than I'd been accustomed to, the breeze felt nice, carrying with it the fragrant and robust smell of the ocean. I was always more at ease when I was by the sea. Josef's home was far from the shoreline, but I could still hear the ocean birds calling to one another. When I peered down the long, sandy road, just beyond the rows of houses, to the crush of people and their carts, I could discern the thin line of water on the horizon.

Passers-by boldly stared at me. Josef had warned me the locals would find me a curiosity. I couldn't help but stare back, for I found them most curious, too. In the time I'd left behind, there'd been a definite distinction of class, as the noblemen and women wore fine silks with embroidered needlework while those forced to live as peasants such my daughter and myself wore roughly woven dresses that chaffed our smooth, human skin. Here, all ladies seemed to dress alike in long white or black skirts with white frilly tops, made of delicate, soft fabrics. And the men preferred those silly black hats, fitted black suits, and mustaches that looked as if they'd been oiled with tallow. How hard it was to distinguish rank and breeding, and yet nobody seemed to mind. Perhaps, I thought wistfully, humankind had grown more forbearing over the centuries. But I was no fool to hope their tolerance would extend to dragons.

I heard the old man's feeble steps behind me. He sounded much like his cart, worn and uneven, with planks buckling from many years of use. There was an unevenness in his gait. I'd seen him stop to nurse a knee more than once. I wondered if he'd ever tried to heal it and why he didn't ask me for help now. Something as simple as worn tendons and sore bones would have taken me a matter of seconds to repair.

"Mi Reina," Josef whispered at my back.

I let out a deep breath, smoothing a hand across my brow. The breeze had dislodged more strands of my hair from the confines of the pins Mrs. Jenkens had carefully worked into place. Those pins were meant to trap something so very much like my magic, which could not be contained. No matter how hard I tried to conceal it, my compassionate nature always found a way to break free. It would be my downfall, for no good could come from helping mortals.

"His infirmity is too severe," I said, the lie feeling like it was burning a hole through my chest.

"But you said your powers were strong."

I turned on the old man, momentarily taken aback by the way Josef leaned against the doorframe. That's when I realized he was living on borrowed time. Perhaps the only thing keeping him alive was his love for his family. A love that could get Safina and me killed.

"I know what I said," I snapped, pushing back the guilt that threatened to overwhelm me.

Josef crinkled his woolen cap in his hand, eyeing me with despair. "Abby would have died if it hadn't been for you."

"Don't you think I know that?" I spat. "People have been known to wake after their sickness has run its course," I reminded him, hating the guilt that felt like a noose around my neck. "But your grandson cannot even walk, Josef. How will I explain that?" I turned to the bustling road. The villagers of Galveston were vibrant and carefree, but a lot could change if they discovered my secrets.

"You let me worry about that."

He spoke with false confidence. I could hear it in the unsteady tenor of his voice. How indeed would he explain his lame grandchild being miraculously healed?

I was unable to mask my bitterness. "Forgive me, but I cannot put the fates of my daughter and myself in anyone's hands but my own."

"He is a kind boy and smart, smarter than any of these gringo doctors and lawyers." Josef frowned, waving toward the road. "I sense he can do great things in this world. If only he could walk. Please." Josef ended with such a soulful plea, I knew not even my hardened heart could resist him.

"I will heal him... after you break the bond with my mate. You will also provide me with enough coin so Safina and I may flee if we need to."

"Si, Mi Reina, but I will hold you to your word. After I break the bond, you will heal my Gabriel."

When I narrowed my eyes, Josef shrank before me like a flower wilting beneath the heat of the Texas sun.

"A dragoness always keeps her word, Josef," I said with all the regality befitting a queen. "Of that you can be sure."