Chapter Nine

Safina

I spent the morninglooking out my chamber window. As soon as Mother and Mrs. Jenkens left, I'd opened the glass and sat on the cushioned bench, breathing in the warm salty air and absorbing the sights and sounds before me. Squealing children frolicked in the foamy surf. A large boat with a towering, smoking cylinder blew its horn as it sailed across the harbor. The smell of freshly baked bread and roasting clams made my mouth water. Even though I'd already broken my fast with a filling meal of fried salted pork, eggs, and biscuits, I wanted more...more food, more sights, more everything.

I had lived in a cramped shell far too long, and though the world frightened me, I yearned to explore.

If only Mother would let me.

My gaze shifted again to the road that ran in front of our dwelling. I hoped my mother would return soon. With each passing minute, I grew more anxious. Had Mother truly healed the mortal girl? If so, would Mrs. Jenkens and the other townsfolk mark us as witches?

The irregular rumble of Se?or Cortez's cart brought me out of my reverie. They were coming! I jumped from my seat and shut the window. I smoothed back an errant strand of curly hair that had slipped from its confining bun and silently cursed Mrs. Jenkens for insisting I wear my hair "like a lady." I brushed biscuit crumbs from my dress and raced downstairs to greet them.

I waited anxiously on the landing of the stairs. Mrs. Jenkens's servant Moses, a stout man with ebony skin and a warm smile, was in the parlor setting out glasses of lemonade, beautiful ivory dishes with gold inlay and red flowers, and best of all, a tray of little round fluffy pastries that smelled divine. My nostrils flared as I inhaled the rich aroma. Oh, how I'd missed the surface!

The front door flew open, and a tempest of dresses and high-pitched chatter blew through the parlor. I sat down and peered at the scene from behind the banisters. I was awestruck at the beautiful young woman who breezed into the room. The girl tossed a pale blue bonnet in a chair and picked up a tall glass of lemonade, thanking Moses, and then plopped onto the padded bench Mrs. Jenkens called a sofa.

After taking several gulps, the girl, whom I assumed was Abby, set the glass goblet on the low table beside her and dabbed her lips with a cloth.

"What day is it?" Abby asked her grandmother with a cheery smile.

Mrs. Jenkens sat beside Abby, fussing as she wiped lemonade off her chin. Only then did my dragon-touched eyes note the faint trace of a jagged scar on Abby's forehead.

"Saturday, dear," Mrs. Jenkens answered with an audible sigh.

Even from a distance, I heard the frustration in the older woman's voice.

"Gosh-a-mighty!" Abby yelped, springing to her feet. "How long was I sick?"

"You've been laid up three whole days," Mrs. Jenkens said with a quivering lip. The older woman's eyes were red and swollen, and she had a blotchy face and nose to match. She must have been crying again. I had endured listening to the woman cry all night and all morning. Now that her granddaughter was healed, I hoped Mrs. Jenkens would be at ease.

With an elegant sweep of her skirts, my mother strode into the parlor and lowered herself onto the sofa, barely making a dent in the fabric. I admired my mother's grace and poise, and I was reminded that Mother was the last noble dragon queen. I frowned, wondering if I'd ever be able to conduct myself like a dragon royal.

I'd already stumbled over my skirts three times this morning, nearly careening face-first down the stairwell. Getting used to this human body was going to take some work. I slouched, leaning away from the banister, hoping I could continue to watch them from a distance without drawing any attention to myself, though some part of me wished to join the others, if not for the company, then for the pastries and lemonade.

"Three days?" Abby scratched her head. "I don't know what you did for me, but I feel right as rain, so I thank you from the bottom of my heart." As Abby placed a small, porcelain hand across her chest, there was no mistaking the sincerity in her eyes.

Though I knew I was not supposed to trust humans, I couldn't help but like the girl.

"You're welcome, lass." Mother's voice sounded warm and affectionate. Could the dragon queen like Abby as well?

Abby shot Mother a pointed look. "Are you a witch or something?"

When I gasped, all eyes in the room turned to me. I covered my mouth, feeling the blush spread like flame through my cheeks.

Mother waved me forward. "Come here, child." She patted the seat beside her and smiled.

I rose on unsteady legs and made my way down the stairs and into the parlor. Though my mother had beckoned me, I was reluctant to join the party. After all, I had come to understand my mother's moods. There was no reassurance in the way Mother's shoulders had stiffened at Abby's accusation.

"No," Mother said through a thinning smile, turning her attention to Abby. "I am not a witch."

Abby shrugged and bit into a warm pastry. "Makes no difference," she said through a mouthful of crumbs. "If you are a witch, then you're a good one. I'm not a zealot. Neither is my nana." Abby flashed a rueful smile at her grandmother. "Though she pretends to be."

The old woman splayed a hand across her chest.

Just as I sat beside my mother, Abby sprang from her seat. There was determination in her expression as she wiped crumbs from her hands.

Mrs. Jenkens warily eyed her granddaughter. "Where are you going?"

Abby turned up her nose and fanned her face. "I need some fresh air."

"Abby, no." The old woman vehemently shook her head. "The doctor said you need rest."

"I've been resting long enough, Nana." Abby stomped her foot. "My bones are itching to break free."

Mrs. Jenkens's jaw hardened. She slowly rose from the sofa while wagging a finger at Abby. "You can finagle your way out of the hospital, but I refuse to let you out of this house."

"Oh, Nana," Abby groaned in an exasperated tone that one would use for an unruly child. She turned to me. "What's your name?"

I did my best not to crack under the heavy weight of Abby's assessing gaze. This human girl didn't just look at me. She looked through me. Mother stiffened beside me, which did little to soothe my unease.

"Sa-Safina," I stammered.

"Safina?" One side of Abby's mouth hitched up in an impish grin. "That's odd. And you're her daughter?" She nodded toward Mother.

"Aye."

Abby turned to her grandmother with a grin that stretched nearly ear to ear. "It's okay, Nana. I'll take Safi with me." She beckoned me to her with an impatient wave of the hand. "Hurry up. I've got to hotfoot it outta here before my nana changes her mind."

The old woman planted both hands on her hips. "I never changed my mind in the first place."

But Abby paid her grandmother no heed as she shoved several little warm pastries into her pocket, snatched her bonnet off the chair, and headed for the front door.

"Where are you going?" her grandmother called, chasing after her.

I rose on shaky legs, but stayed rooted to the spot, my mother's firm grip on one elbow.

"I thought I'd call on Charlotte," Abby said as she tied her bonnet strings.

"You are not allowed to go near the pier, do you understand me?" Mrs. Jenkens shrieked. "Not one foot on that pier or the beach, for that matter."

"Oh, Nana." Abby laughed as she pulled a pale bonnet off a tall rack. "Charlotte doesn't even live near the pier." She strode to me in a few brisk steps, slapping the bonnet in my hand. "This is last season's, but it will do." She winked at me.

"Safina cannot go," Mother said, clutching my arm tighter.

I tried in vain to shrug off my mother's grip; my arm was starting to go numb.

Abby's brows scrunched together, and her lip hung down in a pout. "Why ever not?" she asked with an air of innocence.

Mother leveled Abby with a challenging glare. "She is new to this country and unused to the people and their customs."

"How else will she learn our customs and make new friends if she's never allowed out-of-doors?" Abby winked while prying Mother's fingers off my arm. "I'll keep a sharp eye on her." She drew an X across her chest. "Cross my heart." Abby quickly pulled me to her side.

My veins iced as I stole a glance at my mother. The dragon queen's eyes simmered with anger, and her nostrils flared, but she didn't do anything to stop us as Abby dragged me out the door. Clutching the bonnet in my hand, I nearly stumbled over my skirts as I tried to match Abby's hurried pace.

"To Charlotte's and back. Be home in time for the noon meal," Mrs. Jenkens hollered from the doorway as we quickly descended the tall flight of stairs and to the sandy road below.

"Don't worry, Nana," Abby called. "We'll be back before sunset."

Sunset? That was virtually all day in the company of this mortal girl. I had never been parted so long from my mother. I cast another glance over my shoulder. Mother was standing on the porch beside Mrs. Jenkens. The old woman wrung her hands and was mumbling something to Mother, but I could tell the dragon queen was not listening, as her sole attention seemed to be on me.

Do not expose us, daughter,she mentally chided. Else we go back to the cocoon.

Aye, Mother, I answered. But as I was struck by a warm rush of fresh, salty ocean air, some part of me wanted to tell the dragon queen that no force of nature, no magic, and certainly no dragon, would ever imprison me below the surface again.