Chapter Twelve

Safina

I fought back tearsas I marched purposefully across the sandy street, trying my best not to trip over my skirts while dodging horses and people.

"Safi, what's your hurry?" Abby called at my back.

I didn't bother to turn around. "I must return to my mother," I said on a growl, as a boy who reeked of fish guts nearly poked me in the eye with the tip of the long pole slung over his shoulder.

Abby latched onto my wrist with surprising strength, pulling me into an alcove. A door sounded behind us, and a woman and a small child stepped outside holding fragrant loaves of bread. Anger forgotten, my nostrils flared as I inhaled the alluring scents of freshly baked goods. I looked through the storefront window and saw breads, cakes, and all kinds of delicious pastries. Oh, Almighty Mother, I'd discovered heaven!

"You don't even know the way," Abby said.

I turned on Abby with a scowl. "Of course I do." I could find my mother even from miles away. 'Twas part of the connection we shared. All I had to do was think of my mother's flame-red hair, the fire in her amber eyes, or the steady beating of her heart, and instinct would lead me to the dragon queen. Unfortunately, my instinct at the moment was to run inside that bakery and snatch a loaf of bread.

"But I thought you wanted to explore Galveston." Abby pouted, kicking the sand beneath her boot.

I wasn't fooled. I coolly eyed the girl. "I believe you've used me quite enough." Though my gut practically howled in protest, I brushed past Abby to leave the alcove and its heavenly-scented bread.

"Safi, wait." Abby's arm shot out, blocking my path. "Please," she begged before turning her gaze to the sandy stones beneath her feet. "Look, I'm sorry."

I crossed my arms, reminding myself not to be beguiled by Abby's false sincerity. "You treated both Charlotte and me terribly."

Abby looked up at me with pleading eyes. "Again, I'm sorry. I was not as attentive to you as I should have been, but Charlotte, well, she has used me, too, far worse than I've ever used anyone."

I wanted to tell Abby she never should have brought me to Charlotte's in the first place, but then I thought of those pastries and that sweet meat bread, and I very much wanted to go back.

"You look hungry," Abby said with a sly smile before tugging on my arm. "Come on." She nodded toward the door nestled beneath the alcove. "Miss Rose makes the best pies in all of Galveston."

I thought about refusing Abby and continuing on my way, but perhaps Abby's apology was enough, especially if she was willing to feed me pies. I remembered pie from my childhood. A villager had made Mother two of them in exchange for healing her sick cow. I had devoured an entire warm pie for supper and slept well into the morning with a full and satisfied belly.

A little bell rang above my head as I followed Abby inside the shop. My jaw dropped in shock, for before me was a spread fit for a queen. Row upon row of pastries, tarts, and breads sat upon ivory pedestals. A rotund woman with gray hair pinned back in an austere bun gaped as we approached.

"Good day, Miss Rose." Abby swished her skirt back and forth, biting on her lower lip and batting her lashes as if she were a child.

"Dear Lord, girl." The woman threw up her hands, her heavy arms flapping with the movement. "I thought you were in the hospital."

"I was but I'm better now," Abby said with an indifferent air, as if she hadn't survived a brush with death through the grace of dragon magic. "This is my friend, Miss Safina MacQuoid." She leaned into me, nudging me in the ribs with a wink. "Her mouth is watering for a taste of your apple pie."

Miss Rose wiped her hands on a flour-stained apron before smiling warmly at me. "Pleased to meet you, Miss MacQuoid." Her face grew long and her dull brown eyes darkened as she turned to Abby. "Praise God that you are well, Abby, but you should be abed."

"Oh, I plan on it." Abby licked her lips, pointing at a pastry on the pedestal in front of her. "As soon as I get some nourishment."

Miss Rose waddled over to the table, cutting into the pie with a silver, wedge-shaped tool and heaping two slices onto porcelain plates. "Here you go," she said with a smile as she set the plates in front of Abby, "a slice for you and a slice for your friend. Eat up and get on home to that nana of yours." Miss Rose wagged a finger at Abby before pointing at the large window behind us. "I'm sure she must be worried sick."

Abby picked up the plates and spun on her heel, setting them on a small table by the window. "Thanks, Miss Rose," she called over her shoulder.

I wasted no time sitting down. Following Abby's lead, I picked up a silver fork and cut into my pie. Moses had taught me how to use the fork this morning, and I was proud that I already wielded it like a knight with a sword. I would have to get used to mortals and their strange manners, for Mother and I always tore into our food with our bare hands unless we were in dragon form. Then, we used our talons to slice open our prey. But as I took my first bite of apple pie, I realized no stag had ever tasted so delectable. The coppery taste of their warm blood paled in comparison to the buttery sweet pastry that melted on my tongue. Oh, I could remain in my mortal form forever if it meant a lifetime of apple pies.

"Mm," I moaned as I shoveled another generous piece into my mouth. "This is divine."

"Slow down. People are watching." Abby's gaze darted to Miss Rose, who was staring at us from beneath her lashes while filling a wicker basket with brown rolls.

I nodded, trying my best to chew more slowly, though it was so very hard. I swallowed a lump of food, nearly choking on a large piece of crumbly crust I'd neglected to chew.

Miss Rose clutched a jug and two frosted glasses against her bosom as she approached us, dragging her right leg behind her.

When Miss Rose stood before us, flour floating from her skirt in a soft cloud as she set down the jug with a groan, the strangest thing happened. My hands began to tingle. It was the oddest feeling, as if a thousand tiny butterflies were trying to escape the tips of my fingers. My gaze shot to Miss Rose's lame leg as the sensation in my fingers increased and my head filled with a thick fog. What was happening?

"Milk?" Miss Rose asked.

"Yes, please." Abby took the empty glasses from her.

I stuffed my hands beneath my skirt when Miss Rose leaned forward. Why did I have this sudden urge to lay my hands on the old woman's leg?

Miss Rose tipped the jug, filling each cup with white, foamy liquid. It took all my willpower to focus my concentration on the milk. It looked delightfully rich and creamy, and as I licked my lips, the tingling in my hands began to fade.

When Abby handed a glass to me, I opened my mouth to thank them both, but thought better of it when a large crumb dislodged from my tooth. I didn't want Abby scolding me for my manners. Instead, I took a gulp of milk, relishing the feel of the refreshing liquid as it soothed my parched throat.

Once Miss Rose walked back toward her kitchen, Abby quickly switched plates, giving me her pie.

I eagerly shoveled it into my mouth. Perhaps I liked Abby after all.

Leaning forward, Abby spoke in a hushed whisper. "Did you really hear the baby's heart beating?"

I winced as I set down my fork with a clank.

Abby leaned even closer, a sly smile tugging at her mouth. "Don't look so glum. I'm not going to tell. You have your mother's gift for healing, don't you?"

Heat raced up my cheeks as Abby's hawk-eyed gaze focused on my hands. I quickly hid them beneath the table while doing my best not to choke on crumbs. I desperately wanted to take another gulp of milk, but the way Abby stared at me set me on edge. What I should have done was thank Abby for the fare and excuse myself, but I knew that would only have made me look more culpable.

Had I my mother's gift? After the way my fingers had tingled when I saw Miss Rose limping, I thought perhaps I had inherited the dragon queen's healing fires. I wasn't so sure I wanted my mother's ability. With such power came responsibilities, and at the moment, I only wanted another slice of pie.

I leaned back, doing my best to still my trembling hands. "I'm not sure if I have my mother's gift. If I do, it's not as strong," I said with a shrug while eyeing the frothy milk.

Abby cast another quick glance in Miss Rose's direction. "Strong enough you can hear an unborn child. Listen to me, Safi," she said on a hiss. "Do not say those things in public."

I froze. "Will they mark me as a witch?"

"They'll think you've gone mad. I know you're not crazy, but only because I've seen what your mother's healing powers can do. I mean, just look at me." Abby pointed at the scar on her head. "I am whole once again."

"Aye, but your heart still needs mending." I pointed a fork accusingly at Abby. "I thought you said he had a horse face."

Abby blinked hard, her cheeks coloring. "He does."

I scowled. "I'm not blind, Abby."

Abby held her breath, screwing up her face so tight, she looked as if she'd swallowed curdled milk.

I folded my arms and waited for Abby to crack.

After a few tense moments, Abby sucked in a sharp breath. "I loved him first," she said on a sob before biting down on her fist.

Abby's pang of sorrow struck me like an arrow to the chest as an overwhelming feeling of remorse and regret washed over her. Almighty Mother! I recognized that heart-wrenching keen sorrow. It was the same feeling that made my chest ache and my throat tighten whenever Mother cried in our cocoon.

I placed a hand on Abby's arm. "I'm sorry."

A fat tear slipped down Abby's cheek as she sniffled loudly into a delicate, embroidered scrap of cloth. "Teddy was a roomer at Nana's house before he bought that palace on Broadway. I'd had him to myself a whole week until Charlotte dug her claws into him. She knew I fancied him, but she stole him from me anyway. And she was my very best friend." Her voice broke, and her eyes filled with fresh tears.

I was so choked up with emotion, I could think of no way to respond, but at least now I understood Abby's behavior back at Charlotte's.

Abby dabbed her eyes. "When my papa died of yellow fever, they say Mama locked herself in her room and died that very next week. My great-aunt said Mama didn't even have yellow fever. That she died of a broken heart. I could never understand why my mama would leave me alone in this cruel world, all over a man." Her voice took on a lifeless tone as she gazed absently out the window. "But on the day Charlotte married Teddy, I just wanted to die, and I've wished myself dead every day since."

Miss Rose made loud grumbling sounds that carried across the bakery. No doubt, she'd been displeased with Abby's outburst, but I didn't care. I channeled my mother's commanding air as I shot the woman a silencing look. The old woman paled before returning to her work.

Feeling empowered by my success, I straightened my spine, imagining I was in dragon form. "Abby, you didn't fall off that pier by accident, did you?"

Abby vehemently shook her head. "I-I just don't think life is worth living if you don't spend it with the man you love."

When Abby burst into fresh tears, another wave of sorrow washed over me. So this was what losing a man felt like? Perhaps I didn't want to fall in love, not after knowing how much heartache could follow.

"Mother says no man is ever worth dying for," I said in the sternest voice I could manage. "No man."

Abby gaped at me, her eyes watery pools. "Then your mama was never in love."

"Of that, I'm not so sure," I mumbled to myself.

I suspected a man had broken the dragon queen's heart, perhaps even my sire, whom I had been forbidden to speak of. Most of the other children in our village had had fathers, menfolk who lived with their families. They planted the fields, tended the animals, and disciplined their children, tasks that my mother managed without help. I knew not why I had no father, but I was determined to find out the truth once and for all.

* * *

Safina

I LAMENTED THAT MYbelly wasn't quite full enough as we set off from the bakery. How I'd have loved to take a loaf of bread or perhaps a whole pie, but Miss Rose had not looked too pleased with either of us by the time I polished off our plates. I recognized that look of suspicion in the old woman's eyes. I'd seen it before in the eyes of the townspeople just before Mother and I would be forced to move to a new village. I feared we would have to move again if the people of Galveston showed us hostility. I didn't want to go back to my previous life, always running, never staying in one place long enough to make friends, not that the village children had ever cared for my friendship. I still wasn't sure about Abby's loyalty, but it made no difference. I liked this town with its salty air, street cars, and food smells. I could spend an entire fortnight walking up and down the street, taking in all the sights and scents. I certainly had no desire to move just yet.

Even though the sand wedged between my toes was rubbing holes in my feet, I walked with a bit of spring in my step, inhaling the brisk air. "Where are we going to now?"

Abby looped her arm through mine and flashed a sly grin. "Someplace special. I promise you'll love it."

After we briskly walked until I thought my feet would fall off, we arrived at our destination.

When I saw the waves hitting the shore and people frolicking in the surf, my heart sank. "A beach?" This was the special place? I hoped Abby didn't expect me to go into the water. Five hundred years was quite enough time to spend in the ocean.

"Isn't it marvelous?" Abby twirled and held out her hands. "The sand is solid." She plopped on the ground and unlaced her boots. "You can take off your shoes."

I sat beside her, refusing to undo my laces. Moses had laced them for me, and I didn't trust myself to remember how to tie them again.

Abby wiggled her toes, laughing as she slid them across the sand. She frowned at my shoe-clad feet but said nothing as she stood and picked up her shoes by the laces. I stood, too, wondering what had compelled me to sit in the first place. As hard as the sand was, it somehow managed to cling to my dress.

Abby nudged me in the ribs. "Don't look now, but I think those boys are staring at you."

I instantly looked up, following Abby's line of vision to a cluster of young men standing by the pier. They had been with Se?or Cortez last night and looked very much as they had before, huddled together, warily eyeing me as if I had the plague. There was one other among them who drew my attention. He had the same tanned skin, sharp nose, and wide, almond eyes as the others, but whereas their bodies were muscular and virile, he was lean and sickly; his bony knees knocked together as he hunched over in a chair with large wooden wheels.

Abby elbowed me again. "I said not to look."

I ignored her. I was growing tired of taking orders from this mortal. I was not Abby's puppet to be led about on a string. But when the crippled boy turned his gaze directly on me, my breath hitched, and I was compelled to look away. There was something very knowing in that boy's eyes, something that filled me with a feeling of wonderment, anticipation, and dread all at once.

"They are Se?or Cortez's grandsons," Abby said with a hint of derision in her voice.

I turned my back to them, though I could still feel the weight of the boy's gaze pressing on me. I grabbed Abby's elbow, pulling her close. "Aye. Mother and I met them when we arrived." I dropped my voice to a strained whisper. "Who is that boy with them? The one in the wheeled chair?"

"He's their brother," Abby said with a sigh, her tone changing to one of pity.

"Can't he walk?" I asked, but I already knew he couldn't. His legs didn't look strong enough to support his weight.

"He was stricken with polio." Abby arched back, looking at me as if I'd gone mad. "Surely you've heard of polio in Scotland."

I looked away. "We lived a sheltered life."

Abby shook her head, clucking her tongue. "Polio has killed and crippled a few Americans, but my nana fears it will soon get worse."

"How terrible." My heart lurched at the thought of the boy having to endure such a disease. I considered myself fortunate my mother's healing fires had always saved me from such maladies.

Abby clutched my arm. "They're all looking at you funny. If I didn't know better, I'd say they're frightened of you."

"I'm not sure why," I mumbled. Though I knew the reason, and it pained me to think of it. Had they not seen me in dragon form, they might have come over and greeted me.

"Maybe your mother has warned them away from you. My nana respects the old man, Se?or Cortez, but she'd never allow me to marry a Mexican laborer," she said, making a face as if the words left a bitter taste in her mouth. "I must marry a man of good breeding and European descent, like Theodore Carter."

That was puzzling. Breeding? As if we were livestock? What difference did any of that make? I knew little of marriage, but I thought matrimonial bonds should be formed out of love, not breeding.

"But what if you fall in love with one of Se?or Cortez's grandsons?" I asked.

"Me?" Abby stepped back, splaying a hand across her chest. "Don't be foolish, Safi. What life would I have as a laborer's wife? I must live in a fine house and have many servants."

Immediately Charlotte and Theodore Carter's grand home came to mind. Could a Mexican laborer not build her such a home? "And you cannot do this if you marry one of Se?or Cortez's grandsons?"

Abby let out a shrill burst of laughter before swatting my arm. "No, silly. Goodness, you really have lived a sheltered life." She continued to glare at the young men. "Those boys are still staring at you."

A trill raced up my spine. I knew not why it excited me, but it did. I wondered what they had told their brother about me and if he believed them.

"What should I do?" I ran a hand through my hair, suddenly worried about the loose strands that had fallen out of place. Odd, because I hadn't cared about my appearance until then.

"Ignore them, of course," Abby said haughtily. "Turn up your nose as I do."

I thought about it but reconsidered. I had no reason to be unkind to the young men who'd helped Mother and me. If it hadn't been for their assistance, I might still be trapped in that miserable shell. Besides, I very much wanted to meet their brother. Something about the look in his eyes made me want to know more about him.

As if Abby sensed my thoughts, she added, "You may show the crippled boy some kindness, but only him. You must scorn the rest."

I frowned. "They have done me no harm."

"They are gawking at you, Safi. That is harm enough." She tugged on my sleeve. "Well, come on. I have a friend who works in the bathhouse. We can probably get bathing suits for free or half-price."

"Bathing suits?"

"Yes." Abby nodded at the water. "We're going for a dip in the sea."

I dug my heels into the sand. "Thank you, no."

Abby's mouth fell open. "Why not? Are you afraid?"

Afraid? Aye, very afraid.Five centuries of listening to dark ocean sounds had that effect on a dragoness. I vehemently shook my head. "I just don't want to swim."

"But it will be refreshing." She pointed to the waves. Two familiar mortal girls were waving at us and bobbling in the water. "Look, Irene and Lydia are waiting." Again, she pulled my arm. "Come on."

I dug my heels in harder. "No, Abby." My authoritative tone was strange even to my ears.

Surprisingly, Abby dropped my arm and backed away. "Suit yourself," she said with a petulant pout. "I'm going in. Will you wait for me onshore?"

"Perhaps for a short while."

"I shall not be long. No doubt they are wanting to know all the details of our visit with Charlotte."

My pulse quickened as I recollected my behavior at Charlotte's, how I'd told them the baby was a girl, a revelation I now realized was a foolish display of dragoness magic. "Will you tell them everything?"

"Not everything. Your secret is safe with me." Abby pinched her lips, turning her fingers as if she were twisting a lock.

I heaved a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

Irene and Lydia were yelling impatiently, waving their hands in the air as if their life depended on it.

"They're not giving up, are they?" Abby groaned.

"Go on." I nudged her.

Abby turned on her heel, racing past Se?or Cortez's grandsons toward what appeared to have been a house built on top of the pier.

I waited on shore, impatiently tapping my foot until Abby emerged in blue pantaloons, a short-sleeved, frilly top, and a lace cap. Abby waved once at me before heading straight for the water. She laughed as soon as her feet hit the foamy surf, and she rushed toward her awaiting friends.

I folded my arms and stared at Abby's backside, feeling the slight pang of envy and regret that I had refused to join them, but then the memories of my imprisonment came racing back, and I knew I couldn't go in the water. Besides, the boy in the wheeled chair was still staring at me. Curiosity finally won, and I slowly made my way toward him, the thrumming in my chest pounding like a drum in my ears. Why was I letting this crippled boy unnerve me?

Funny how Se?or Cortez's grandsons received me as I drew near. The strong, virile young men shuffled their feet and hung their heads as they backed up, leaving their defenseless brother alone to face a dragoness. I couldn't help but laugh under my breath. 'Twas a good thing I had an aversion to eating mortals. The cripple looked directly at me with his sharp gaze, seemingly more curious than afraid.

"Good day," I said to the boy, offering a short curtsy. I noted with interest how he slipped a book behind his back as if he was ashamed of what he'd been reading.

"Hello."

He had a surprisingly deep, rich voice that didn't match the size of his frail body. That's when I realized perhaps he wasn't a boy. When he beamed up at me, flashing a sweet, youthful smile, I was confounded all the more.

"You look like your mama."

"You've met my mother?" I asked. Odd, because I didn't remember seeing him yesternight.

He shrugged. "My papí introduced us today."

"Oh." I wondered why I felt this surge of disappointment, as if I'd expected my mother to have stayed with Mrs. Jenkens in anticipation of my return.

"I am Gabriel. Gabriel Cortez," he said.

Gabriel?I remembered the priests in the old world had spoken of a beautiful angel named Gabriel, whom their god had used to deliver messages. This Gabriel had a beautiful face as well, so beautiful, in fact, that his large, luminous eyes nearly broke my heart. The warmth radiating from his smile seeped into my bones. At that moment, I knew I was going to like Gabriel Cortez.

"What is your name?" he asked.

I caught a glimpse of his legs, which reminded me of two bent twigs. "My mother didn't tell you?"

"She hardly spoke. She mostly argued with Papí."

I rolled my eyes to the heavens. "Aye, that sounds like my mother." I briefly wondered what they'd been arguing about. Could it have been the severance of souls I'd heard my mother mention? I had been so struck by Galveston's sights and sounds yesternight, I'd hardly had a chance to wonder what soul-severing meant. It concerned me even less as I stood before Gabriel, for though he was small and shriveled, his presence seemed to encompass my entire world.

I flashed a smile, hoping he found me attractive. "I am Safina."

He arched a thick brow. "Safina?"

I nodded a little too eagerly, liking the deep burr of his voice when he said my name.

"That is beautiful." He frowned. "But hard to remember. What do your friends call you?"

I absently rubbed my arm, averting my gaze. "I hardly know. I've never had any." Something I hated to admit but knew he'd discover soon enough.

"What about her?" He nodded toward Abby, who was splashing the squealing girls.

"Oh, Abby." I grimaced, still not knowing if I could count Abby as a friend. "We've only just met, but she calls me Safi."

"Then I will have to call you Safi, too."

His wide grin tilted too much to the right, revealing a boyish dimple and confounding me even more. Was he boy or man? I had no idea. Perhaps he was a man trapped inside a boy's body.

Perhaps the only way to find out would be to kiss him.

I gasped and stepped back, stunned at my bold thought. Where had that come from, and why would I wish to kiss Gabriel Cortez?

"Are you all right, Safi?"

"You are forward. My mother would not be pleased." It was wrong of me to say. For I did like that he was forward, and I did wish him to call me Safi.

He answered with a deep, throaty chuckle, which confounded and then infuriated me. Was this weak mortal making fun of me, a dragon princess?

I motioned toward the book behind his back, hoping to shift the topic to him and also curious to know why he'd hidden it. "What were you reading?"

He leaned forward and pulled out the tome. The spine was in tatters and several pages had been creased inward. His cheeks turned a bright crimson as he ran his thumb across the title on the cover.

I sensed the book was taboo, for why else would he have tried to hide it? If he only knew I could not read, perhaps he wouldn't have been so embarrassed.

But when he stared directly into my eyes with a deep penetrating gaze, as if he could see into my very soul, it was I who felt the flush of unease. My only solace was that he looked away before I did.

"The Love Letters of Robert Browning and Elizabeth Barret Browning." His voice dipped and then splintered, reminding me of a sapling that had been split open, revealing the tender, raw wood beneath. "Have you read it?"

"No." I shook my head as a new sense of unease washed over me. Were people of Galveston expected to read? "I do not read much," I lied.

I hadn't ever learned, and I doubted my mother had, either. I remembered Charlotte mentioning writing to Abby, which meant they both could read. A weight settled in my gut when I recalled all the words I'd seen posted on signs and buildings. The letters were boldly written, the messages much shorter than the missives I'd seen posted on the church doors when we'd lived in the old world. Of course people of Galveston were expected to read. I wondered if I would ever be at ease with the other girls if I could not understand simple signs.

He held up the book, and a breeze ruffled the pages. "I could read it to you if you like."

I nodded and smiled, relieved that he didn't expect me to read the book. "Thank you kindly. Perhaps one day." I pointed to his legs, again feeling the need to change the subject. "Do they pain you?"

He frowned at his bony, bent limbs. "Not anymore."

But my fingers began to itch and tingle, reminding me one need not be in pain to require healing.

He nodded to the water behind me. "Why aren't you swimming?"

An involuntary shiver swept up my spine. "I've spent more than enough time in the water."

"I would swim if I could," he said solemnly.

"And I would fly if I could." I slapped a hand over my mouth. The words had come out before I had time to stop them. I quickly scanned the area, relieved no one was within earshot.

Gabriel's eyes widened. He looked over both shoulders before dropping his voice. "Is it true then, that you are a dragon?"

My hands fell limply to my sides, and my knees weakened. Why had I mentioned flying? Mother would chide me for sure if she knew I had spoken so carelessly. Now he would pester me for more answers, and a crowded beach was not the place to discuss such matters.

A starry-eyed young couple walked past, their attention only for each other as they hastened into the water.

"Don't be alarmed. Your secret is safe with my family." Gabriel chuckled, his gaze shifting to his brothers, who'd crept farther away from us, pretending not to be paying us any heed while leering at me from beneath thick lashes. "I doubt anyone would believe us anyway." He clutched the book to his chest. "So please tell me it's true, that Papí and my brothers have not gone loco."

"It's true," I said on a strained whisper.

A fire lit in his eyes, and he looked ready to jump from his chair. "How do you change and then change back?"

I released a slow breath, all the while keeping watch for anyone drawing near. "It is easy, really. Almost second nature, like breathing."

"How fast can you fly? Faster than a locomotive?" The excitement in his voice, once again, made me think of a child.

I shrugged, trying to recall if Se?or Cortez had told me about locomotives. "I'm not sure, but I can outpace any bird."

He sank back in his chair and heaved a sigh. "I am green with envy."

I dropped my gaze to the sand as I reflected on my life as a dragon princess. Seventeen years running and another five hundred hiding. No friends and no family other than my mother. "It's not such a privileged life: always escaping from mobs and hiding who I am."

"You do not have to hide yourself around me, Safi. I think you're magnificent." He ended on a breathy whisper.

When I looked into his eyes, I saw only sincerity and admiration. Could it be true? Gabriel knew what I was and thought me "magnificent?"

For the first time in my life, an enormous weight lifted from my shoulders, and my chest expanded with a feeling I'd never known, a feeling of acceptance. Warmth radiated from my heart and spread all the way to my toes. It was as if my soul had been wrapped in an embrace.

I fought the urge to bend on one knee and plant a big kiss on his full lips, for he truly did have a beautiful face, even more handsome than Mr. Carter. "Thank you, Gabriel."

A shrill scream broke through my cloud of happiness like a thunderbolt tearing through the night. "Abigail Marie Jenkens!"

Gabriel smirked, nodding to something behind me. "Mrs. Jenkens doesn't look too pleased."

I turned and grimaced as the heavyset woman marched across the sand with Abby in her sights, her cheeks looking like two overripe apples.

And in an instant, my bubble of happiness burst. I spun toward Gabriel, who was rolling his chair back.

"You'd better go. Once you fall out of her good graces, it is hard to win her back." He chuckled. "That is, until she finds someone else to gossip about. Will I see you again tomorrow?" He spun his wheels again, crushing sand beneath him.

I felt as if my heart was being crushed, too, as I fought the urge to chase after him. "Will you be here?"

"Same time, same place," he said as one of his brothers began to pull him away. "My brothers always swim in the evenings."

"Then I shall be here, too. Perhaps you will have time to read to me."

He held up the book, calling over his shoulder. "I will not disappoint."

Why did my heart skip a beat when he said that? For somehow I believed Gabriel was telling the truth. I only hoped my dragoness intuition wasn't wrong.

* * *

Safina

THE WEIGHT OF MOTHER'Sstare grew heavier as we approached Mrs. Jenkens's home. The dragon queen stood on the porch, clutching the railing with whitened knuckles, the serene countenance of her placid smile not enough to mask the anger simmering in her hooded eyes.

Mrs. Jenkens marched Abby straight through the parlor and up the stairs. No doubt the old woman preferred to lecture her granddaughter in private, though half of Galveston had witnessed Mrs. Jenkens's scene at the beach. And those who hadn't seen it would soon hear how Mrs. Jenkens had rushed into the water, heavy skirts and all, yanking Abby against her chest and dragging her all the way back home.

The dragon queen stopped me from crossing the threshold with an outstretched hand. "You have been gone too long, daughter."

I tried not to scowl. "I was visiting friends with Abby." And eating too many sweets and making a complete fool of myself, I wanted to add, but I made sure not to project that thought to my mother.

"Friends?" Mother clucked her tongue. "Not your friends."

I shrugged. "They were kind to me."

They don't know what you are, Mother answered in thought.

I winced, then smoothed my expression, not wishing the dragon queen to see how much her words had pained me. I feared if Abby and her friends knew what I was, they'd run screaming.

But not Gabriel.

I bit my lip, wondering if Mother had heard me thinking about Gabriel. I needed to be more careful not to let Mother pry inside my mind, for I worried my most intimate thoughts would be exposed. Though I often spoke to my mother in thought, I had devised a way to keep my mother out of my mind by envisioning my skull a fortress. It usually worked, except during those times when I forgot to put up my barrier. Although I realized 'twas no use hiding my secrets. My mother would find a way to discover them.

I brushed past my mother, speaking over my shoulder. "Gabriel was kind." He knows what I am, I hissed in my mother's mind.

The dragon queen followed close on my heels. "I saw you speaking with him."

Was I mistaken or was there a note of accusation in her voice?

I plopped down on the settee, my mouth watering when I saw the display on the low table. There were breads and jams, meat pies, and tarts, plus four frosty glasses swirling with yellow liquid.

My irritation with my mother forgotten, I didn't hesitate to fill a plate until my meat pies were in danger of falling off the heap. I took a generous bite of pie, moaning as the buttery crust and fragrant meat practically melted on my tongue.

I chased down the food with a sip of the frosty beverage. It was heavenly, like sweet and tangy fruit in a glass. If I had my way, I'd gorge on every morsel and refill my glass several times over, but Mother had that expectant look in her amber eyes, as if she was waiting for me to spill my very soul.

"Gabriel is going to read to me tomorrow," I blurted. "Since I never had the chance to learn, perhaps he can help me."

I'd no idea what compelled me to tell Mother about Gabriel. It could have been a secret I shared only with him. But the way the dragon queen glared at me, I feared my mother had the ability to pick apart my mind, exposing my tender heart and mocking me for daring to admire a boy.

Mother leaned toward me. "Do you think it wise to make close friends with these mortals?"

"Why not? They have done me no harm." I drew back, surprised by my sudden courage in standing up to Mother and wondering why I was fool enough to challenge her.

True, they'd done me no harm, but then the dragon queen had never been wrong about such things before.

Mother heaved a sigh, one that made her sound weary and not at all like a proud dragon royal. "Do not trust mortals, Safina. Especially not men. They are deceptive and hard-hearted."

"Was my father hard-hearted?" I asked before I had time to think about her question.

"I do not wish to speak of him," Mother said curtly, her tone so sharp, it threw me off balance.

Was it always to be like this whenever I wished to know about my father? Would my mother simply put up barriers, denying me insight into the man who'd sired me?

"Why? He was my father. I have a right to know."

"Just the thought of him twists a blade in my heart." Mother hunched over, clutching her chest.

A wave of sorrow washed over me, similar to the pain I'd felt from Abby over Theodore Carter. So this was why Mother was distrustful of men. My father had broken her heart.

"Didn't he love you? Didn't he love me?" Somewhere in the back of my mind, a little voice warned me to let it go, but I couldn't.

"He couldn't love us. He was a dragonslayer." Mother ended on a sob, turning from me.

A jolt of panic struck me in the chest. "A dragonslayer?" I could hardly comprehend what my mother had said. From the time I'd taken my first flight, my mother had taught me dragonslayers were our mortal enemies. Now Mother was saying my sire was the foe I'd grown to fear and loathe? "No!" I screamed, then lowered my voice to a hiss when I heard a commotion above. "My sire can't be a dragonslayer."

Storm clouds brewed in Mother's eyes. "He was, and perhaps he is still."

I gasped. "He's alive?"

"Aye, child, for his mortality is tethered to me, his mate." There was no mistaking the edge of bitterness in the dragon queen's voice. "Why else do you think we've been hiding for so long?"

Suddenly, I lost my appetite. I set down my plate with a clank and rose on shaky legs, still trying to process how Mother could have mated with the enemy. And why would a dragonslayer have mated with a dragoness?

"Excuse me, Mother." I swallowed, fighting to speak against the tightening in my throat. "I have had a long day, and I feel I must rest."

But Mother wasn't paying me any heed. She was looking out the window, her vacant gaze focused somewhere beyond the setting sun.

Did Mother still love her mate? Of course she did, else she wouldn't have cried over him for five hundred years. One thing I was sure, he was the reason Mother never smiled, the reason I had woken up many times to the sound of my mother's gut-wrenching sobs. Whether he was still a dragonslayer or no, I could never forgive him for breaking my mother's heart. And if he returned to do us harm, I would do whatever it took to stop him.