Dragons of Drupes - 12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

 

After we’d packed everything away from band practice, Simon, Ben and Chrissy headed upstairs to leave. “Gig’s tomorrow, I’m so shitting-my-pants nervous,” Simon said.

Ben laughed but when he stopped said in a serious tone, “Yeah, me too.”

“It’ll be great, you’ll see.” Chrissy flashed them a brilliant smile. “As long as Drake doesn’t forget the words.” She turned and gave me a wink. She’d been totally cool about the whole thing date-thing and, thankfully, didn’t feel weird about hugging me hello and goodbye.

I grinned back weakly, but honestly, I’d been off all practice.

“Wonder if we’ll recognize people in the audience from the stage,” Simon said. “Hope it doesn’t freak me out.”

His words struck a chord. My head snapped up, mind whirling to our case. “What did you say?”

Ben, Simon and Chrissy eyed me.

“Just wondering if I’d get stage fright,” Simon said again.

But I didn’t need Simon to repeat it.

“Swear, if I see that critic guy, I’m gonna faint.”

Ben whacked the back of his head. “You’d better not. We’re lucky Kipley’s coming at all.”

I should’ve been jumping in hurrah at that, instead I ushered my friends quickly out the door. “Till tomorrow.”

Then I was on my way, racing up to Faye’s computer lab. I pounded on the door. “Faye?”

“Yeah-yeah, come in.”

Faye was hunched over her laptop, on screen a princess-warrior was attacking a troll.

“Need something?” she said, whacking at the keyboard.

“Yeah. I need Beatrice Wymer’s sample lesson.”

Faye clicked on the mouse a couple of times and her game stopped. She typed some more. “Which one?”

“First one.”

She turned it on. Once the camera zoomed out from Beatrice and swept across the audience, I jumped. “Pause it and get closer?”

Faye whizzed over the keyboard until I saw the picture enlarge.

“Recognize anyone in the audience?” I asked her.

Faye scanned each row of faces and I watched as her eyes froze on a woman. She pointed to the screen. I’d already seen it, but had wanted confirmation.

Yup, it was her.

There in the front row.

Rohesia Auber.

“Knew that essay title bugged me for a reason!” I looked at the words we’d typed up and filed under Beatrice Wymer.

A Dissection and Comparison of the Properties of Stones and Gems found on Earth and Dowrl; The United States of America vs. The Cariema Belts. Geo 376. Lecturer Beatrice Wymer. Student ID number: 202876.

“Geo 375 and 376 are two of the courses I saw on Rohesia’s university transcript,” I hastily explained to Faye. Well-well, this certainly livened things up a bit.

There was a rap-a-tap-tap on the door.

“Come in, Terry!” Faye called.

“It’s the both of us, actually,” he said, strolling in with Jack behind him.

I was still upset with him, but that didn’t stop a jolt of electricity coursing through me when he walked in the room. My stomach felt gooey, a porridge of sensations. I stared resolutely at the computer screen.

“Rohesia attended Beatrice’s courses,” Faye said, getting the others up to speed.

“Which means—?” Terry started.

“She knows how to dissect and reassemble precious stones, too. Like our Red Eye,” Jack finished, stopping next to Faye without once acknowledging me. “I watched the sample lessons last night.” Said for my benefit, I was sure. How did he know that’s what I was wondering?

Had he watched at the same time Terry, Faye and I had? That sucked. The mass of porridge gunk within stirred some more. He shouldn’t have had to watch alone.

“Her motivation?” The question came automatically from my mouth. I was a little surprised that I was talking about the case when my mind was working on figuring out another mystery altogether. I jerked my head away from Jack’s lean figure back to the computer.

Terry swung his legs over a chair, his elbows resting on the back and his chin cupped in his hands. “Wouldn’t they have recognized each other at the museum?”

“Point,” Faye said, opening the video file of the museum. She started the playback of the recording that faced the entrance.

Grabbing a pen from behind the screen, Faye used it to point out each face. “First Beatrice enters the room.” She fast forwarded to Walter and Avice walking in. Walter was looking straight ahead, in what appeared to be the direction of the jewel, while Avice was staring at and fiddling with her fingers.

“That was seven minutes later. And . . .” Faye forwarded it some more. “. . . after another three minutes, Rohesia enters the room.”

I watched as she stepped in and scanned the room.

“Bingo!” I said and had Faye show the entrance again. “Just before she continues onto the left side of the room, she inclines her head.”

“Slightly,” Jack said, sounding brash. Like he wasn’t happy to be there.

“Without a smile,” Faye added. “That the way you’d greet your teacher?”

“She’s in a class of fifty or so,” I said. “She doesn’t expect Beatrice to recognize her.”

“Plus, it was last year’s course,” Terry said.

I flashed him a smile.

“Does Beatrice nod back?”

Faye opened another file, showing Beatrice from the side in her large coat, slowly walking around each display. She really did look fat from this perspective.

Nothing like the curvy figure she showed off in her office.

Why?

There came the short snap of Beatrice’s head in recognition. “She looks away quickly.”

I rested my hand on the mouse. “Can I just check something?”

“I’d rather you not fiddle with the computer,” Faye said.

“Seriously?” Jack said. “Come on—we’re sort of in this mess because of you. Stop being so anal about your lab and let Drake use the computer.”

Three heads swiveled to him. My mouth dropped open. Sure Jack could be rude, but that—wow, he sure was pissed.

It almost looked as if steam shot out Faye’s ears. Gritting her teeth, she pushed back from the table, but I saw the hurt and shame in her eyes. “Fine. Go ahead.”

I froze a second, not sure of my next move. Swinging my head from Faye to Jack to Faye again, I said, “It’s okay—”

“Do it, Drake,” Faye demanded. “The least I can do, right?”

She shoved the mouse into my hand. Swallowing, I moved the cursor on the playback line to the moment where the jewel disappeared. From this angle, Rohesia towered over the guard, David, and the children pressed against the glass wall, casing a collection of stones.

“That possible?” I squinted as if that would clarify the image, which was ridiculous. Then I dropped the mouse, carefully. “Faye, can you zoom up on the glass there?”

“What do you see, Drake?” Terry asked, coming around my other side to get a better look at the screen.

“Not sure, yet.”

“That’s as close as I can get without compromising the quality. The resolution is too low for a clearer magnification.”

Jack stood apart from us, jaw twitching, looking at the floor. He glanced at me, and quickly away again when our gazes clashed. I re-focused on screen.

Faintly in the glass I could see Beatrice’s reflection and her gaze was focused in Rohesia’s direction.

I let out a forced laugh. “Interesting. Beatrice is looking at Rohesia at the time the jewel disappears, and Rohesia is watching Avice and Walter. Yet one of them was stealing the Red Eye at the same time. My head is spinning.”

Jack grunted. I assume it was in agreement.

“Mine too,” Faye said.

“How do we know only one of them stole it?” Terry said. “Let’s also not forget, whoever the culprit is, they didn’t just steal a jewel, they threatened us.”

I felt, more than saw, Jack shiver next to me. Faye’s blond hair swished as she shuddered. The back of my own hands had goose bumps, too.

“What if it’s an organized robbery and the whole lot of them are in on it?” Faye said.

“We still fail to see the connection and more importantly, the motivation,” I said. “And remember, it was advertised in the travel section of the Drupes Herald. Both Beatrice and Rohesia may have genuine interest in such rare jewels. That’s what they teach and study.”

Jack twisted his leather watch strap so it lined up properly on his wrist. “Faye?” he said. But Faye turned more of her back to him. “Sorry,” he mumbled, then walked out.

I checked my watch. Crikey. Time to get going already. “There’s a dragon protest rally in Drupes tonight, if you guys are keen?”

Faye shook her head. “Gonna check up on Avice’s social network and keep tabs on her. Then I have an appointment with a troll.” I remembered the game I’d interrupted her in.

“I’ll stay here with you,” Terry said quickly.

“I’m fine alone, you know,” she said.

Terry said, “I’m stuffed, man, I wouldn’t mind the time to mess around in my garage.”

I didn’t think there was going to be much mess involved. But okay.

Just Jack and I then, I suppose. I tried to ignore a little thrill like soft fingers run down my spine. Think of those poor dragons. Remember what you saw at the chapel. The pain in their eyes. Their suffering. Thrill quickly twisted itself into a chill, making my legs heavy.

I found Jack in his room, putting on a grey sweater. I knocked at the open door, nervous to talk to him. “You coming to—”

He nodded.

In five minutes, Jack and I stood in front of my door. I climbed up the ladder Terry had left there, pulled the lever to the right and latched it down. As I did, bolts on the left of the door came out of their hinges and the bolts on the right side slid into the awaiting braces.

I nodded at Jack, who lifted the flap to the small thin box pulsing on the bottom right door panel. After it had recognized his thumb print, he typed in the six digit area code. I heard the gentle hum of the door and came down from the ladder.

Jack gave me a warning look before flinging the door open and I grabbed the banister. Wind swirled around us, but this time, I couldn’t help but be aware of how different it was. The last time we’d left the house, I’d been so sure of who I was. How much I was into Chrissy. Now I only seemed aware of the way Jack held himself, his proximity to me—which wasn’t close enough.

“Drake?” Jack said, and I blinked, realizing I’d been staring at him the whole time. “We can go now.”

Stupidly, I bobbed my head, not able to think of anything to say, and followed him out the door as if I were under some kind of spell.

It was only once we were walking through the park and passing the now dragonless chapel that he spoke again. “You were right.”

Any other time, I would have whooped in glee to hear him say that, but right now all I could hear, all I could feel, was the seriousness of his words.

His voice dropped to a husky whisper. “Thanks for stopping me.”

I couldn’t say anything. Just nodded.

“Can we”—he pointed to a bench in the park—“sit a minute?” He checked his watch. “We have time.”

I sat down at the same time as Jack. We both perched ourselves as far from each other as we could get, staring out onto darkening trees.

It wasn’t too far from where we’d been yesterday.

“Why’d you do that tonight?” I asked. “Have you . . . done that before?”

“No. It would have been my . . . first.”

I rested my head in my hands. “You deserve better than that,” I finally said.

When I looked at Jack, I saw his eyes were watery, looking straight ahead.

“Where were you before the house, Drake?” he asked quietly.

I shuddered thinking about it.

“You know why it hurts so much to see these dragons?” he went on. “That was me. When my parents found out about me, they said they deserved a better son. They tried to make me a better son. I wanted to run away, but they forced me to church to confess my sins. Then they hit me, until I swore I would repent.”

I sucked in a breath, but he held his hand out to stop me from saying anything.

“I wasn’t allowed to be me anymore. Finally I ran away. Then the house found me. I know I can be stubborn and opinionated, sometimes I wish I could be sorry for that, but I’m not. I’m finally allowed to be me, Drake.

“And I’m saying all this, telling you, because I want you to know it can be scary being yourself. You need to know that it’s okay—” he stopped, then shook his head. “No, what I really want to say is thank you. I was really angry at myself today. Stopping me tonight—you saved me from giving up a part of myself. You’re right, I do deserve better.” He eyed me. “I will have better.”

Him opening up to me had me swallowing hard. I hadn’t known about Jack’s life, and now that I did, I wanted to apologize.

Wanted to wrap my arms around him and hold him.

I shuffled down the bench until we were sitting side by side, the backs of our hands resting lightly against each other.

After a few minutes, Jack stirred and pushed himself off the bench, waiting until I stood too. Then, side-by-side, our sleeves occasionally brushing against each other’s, we walked to the address Professor Quincey had given us.

We were silent the whole way, until just before we arrived, Jack said, “If you . . . if you need to talk or anything. I can listen. I’m not saying I know what you’re going through, but maybe I do?” He said it as a question, sounding unsure of himself. As if it’d taken him a long time to pluck the guts to say it and was suddenly wishing he hadn’t.

I couldn’t acknowledge him—what would I say? And his closeness made it hard not to think about his offer. For the past hour, all I’d wanted was to get closer to him.

Was I confused?

Hell yeah.

We stood at the bottom of a narrow set of stairs. “I think we have to head up those.”

“A bit of light would’ve been nice.”

I agreed. It wasn’t totally pitch black, a little bit of moonlight streaked above our heads across the side of the building, but it was dark enough we had to feel for each step before we lifted our weight onto it.

Jack was in front, bracing his hands on the walls either side of us, and I was a couple of steps behind, trying to give him enough room in the cramped space. We were quite far up, almost at the top, when Jack stopped and looked at me over his shoulder. I saw the faint outline of his finger pressed to his mouth.

I came up the steps until I was directly behind him. Gruff whispers trailed around the bend in the steps, and I leaned into Jack so I heard better.

“You know I can’t give you any support just now. You can’t keep doing this,” a male voice said.

“We must, and we will!” I recognized this voice as Professor Quincey’s.

“Thing will change, but you’ve got to wait a few more days.”

“If we don’t protest, at least one dragon will die this week. I won’t allow that!”

“He’ll die anyway. You know that, I know that . . . What’s the harm in waiting a little longer—?”

“What’s the harm?!” Professor Quincey’s voice rose, barely embracing whisper-like qualities. “Every dragon is worth going to the effort for—to do whatever it takes. Even if it does annoy you types. Especially if it does.”

“I’m on your side.”

“Your means to the end are questionable at best and a little more than self-centered.”

“It’s a win-win situation, and you’d do your best to keep your mouth shut about the details.” The tone of his voice unnerved me and in the pit of my stomach I felt something stir.

“You don’t intimidate me.”

“Keep your mouth shut and you won’t have to worry about that.”

The scraping of footsteps on the steps, heading in our direction, sent a warning chill up my spine. We should not get caught eavesdropping like this, and we couldn’t exactly just walk up there the second they’d finished their little conversation. Within the two seconds it took him to turn the bend, I’d pulled Jack to the side of the wall and whispered into his ear. “Quick, pretend you’re snogging me.”

He understood the plan, and gripped the sides of my face so his fingertips were on my cheeks and the lower half of his face was shielded by his palms. I lifted my arms to either side of Jack’s face so no one would see him, only me pressed up against someone.

Our noses touched and it sent a different sort of shiver through me altogether. The passage was narrow, so I closed my body against Jack’s. Even through our clothes I could feel his heart racing. Mine was racing too, and not because I worried about getting caught snooping.

In fact, I wasn’t sure this wasn’t all an excuse.

Ever since the park, it was all I could think about doing. Get close to him.

Even without our lips touching, we must’ve been convincing, because we were passed without a second glance. Once he’d left, my body remained locked onto Jack’s. He moved up a step, so the moonlight fell across his face.

His pulled his hands nervously from my hair, his breath tickling my neck. I wanted them back where they were. Without thinking, I brought my lips closer to his. I struggled to regain my self-control, to pull away.

To remind myself this wasn’t what I wanted.

But then a small moan escaped him and I couldn’t help it.

I tilted his face so his lips brushed mine. They were slightly salty; a deliciousness I’d never experienced before. One small taste and I wanted—needed—more. Looking into his eyes, I gently ran my teeth over his bottom lip. As he trembled he pulled my neck closer and whispered into my ear, “Kiss me.”

I brought my mouth to his, and when our tongues touched it felt like music blasted and threaded its way through every vein in my body. Everything about him was there at once; his warm smell, salty taste, burning touch. I shivered.

Only when his hands pushed against my chest did my brain know to react. Slowly, I peeled myself off him, breathing hard.

Once we had some distance between us, my head started to clear and a dreadful feeling crept over me. You’re two guys. That really shouldn’t have happened.

But it was good.

Holy hell, what now?

As if to answer these thoughts, Jack said, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that.”

He was sorry? I looked into his dark eyes, trying to understand.

“I have been thinking you were right, Drake. Us, this idea I have in my head. That’s exactly what it is. In my head.”

He paused.

“It can’t happen.”

Three thoughts ran almost parallel in my mind.

The first: Now that I was on the brink of ignoring all sense and giving in to sensibility he accepted my objections? Well, at least the way he made me feel was consistent. Still buzzkill Jack. The second: take it back, take it back, take it back! Take those words back and just kiss me again. The third: Say something dammit! Talk to him. Tell him how you really feel.

Jack bit his lips waiting for me to speak, watching me so carefully; I opened my mouth, but nothing came out but strangled air. A few more seconds went by—and nothing.

Jack gave a sad smile as he nodded, like I’d actually said something. “I hope, maybe . . . Can we be friends?”

I was surprised at how the cliché made my insides twist unnaturally. Trying to keep my voice steady, I smiled and said what he wanted to hear. “You’ve got it. We should just be friends.”

The moonlight framed his face, highlighting his broadening smile; and as it grew my insides twisted more.

In order to stop the pain, or at least to stop thinking about it, I turned away from him, continuing up the steps. After we’d rounded the corner where we heard Professor Quincey arguing, there was another short flight of steps before an array of light bombarded us. It was as if someone had turned on a switch, because the darkness had abruptly flooded with color.

We walked onto the flat concrete roof, where around thirty people stood holding up placards and protest signs, which all seemed to be written in glow-in-the-dark ink, in reds, greens, blues and yellows.

But that wasn’t the light that had startled me. All around us, on hundreds of raised roofs, dragons were littered, their skin emitting light as if each had swallowed floodlights. Their wonderful colors and patterns shone and I gasped in awe.

“Amazing.” Jack pointed upward. I was so overwhelmed I stopped breathing a few seconds. Smoke strips filled the sky, and the intricate white sketches also glowed in the darkness. There were pictures of people and dragons embracing, of dragons flying in the sky, symbols of love and peace beamed like a batman sign. Words like hope, freedom, liberty, love, peace, and trust were everywhere.

The smoke strips filled Drupes’s skyline. Professor Quincey had organized a large scale protest, and it looked like all the dragons in town were taking part.

We’d reached the edge of the crowd when a loud “Hello!” made us turn around. Professor Quincey carried a placard in each hand and wore a huge smile on his face. “I’m always happy when new ones show up,” he said, and handed me a placard with glowing purple words: A right to be free.

“Thanks,” I said, passing the sign to Jack.

“And also for the both of you . . .” Professor Quincey handed each of us a medallion hanging on a lanyard chain. I slipped it over my neck. “Were you in time to see the illumination? It was at eight sharp.”

“Everything was already lit when we came up.” I looked at my watch, it read 8.02. “Must have only just missed it.”

“Well, never mind. Since this is your first DSAM protest, I bet you have lots of questions. I’ll introduce you to Perold and he can give you a short summary of the dragon strife.” He beckoned us to follow him and we moved through the chattering crowd to a small gate, where a path led us on top of one of the raised roofs.

We weaved past a row of lantern-like dragons. They could barely move in their heavy chains, only their chests puffed as they breathed in air.

“How do they breathe and keep the smoke-strips up?” Jack whispered to me, but Professor Quincey overheard.

“They take in air through their noses. The smoke-strips come from the mouth, which is connected to the right dragon lung, where the smoke from their tails comes through. The left lung is for breathing.”

Jack’s brows lifted in surprise. “Wow. Would it be okay to take a sample of smoke? I’m interested in its chemical make-up. It’s pollution free, right?”

“All the dragons are required by law to be on a diet of special industrial dragon food that creates fewer emissions in their smoke. And as for a sample, you’d have to get permission from the dragon. But I suspect if you ask nicely, Perold wouldn’t mind.”

Professor Quincey made a leap and turned round. I looked down and saw a plunging blackness a few steps away. “Take the jump with a run-up if you like,” he said.

Jack had frozen next to me. His next words were not in his usual assured tone, but rather shaky, “You want us to jump between buildings?”

Professor Quincey laughed. “It’s a short jump. Just don’t look down. Focus on reaching this ridge here.” He pointed to the sloped tiles under his feet.

I heard Jack gulp and didn’t blame him. In fact, I was right alongside him. The idea alone of having to leap at such heights made me dizzy. I nudged his elbow. “Do it together?”

He grabbed my hand and gripped. So tightly, I was beginning to regret the offer. After a hushed countdown from three we ran and jumped. The ground fell away under us, wind whistling past us and for a second I felt utter terror we might not make it, that’d the darkness below us would somehow suck us in.

But then I focused on the pain in my hand from Jack’s fingernails cutting into me—and for a moment, a split second, I was soaring, gracefully cutting into the air to land neatly on the other side.

Jack and I shared a relieved glance, before he loosened his fingers and walked ahead.

“See, no problem,” Professor Quincey said. He angled himself lower to the steep roof as he walked up.

I was puffed by the time I reached the time we got to the top, but I didn’t concentrate on the wheezing up my throat, only the weight I could still feel on my hand, the small moon cuts into my skin. I caught the Professor looking at me. “Jeez, that’s a jungle gym.”

He grinned. “I’d like you to meet Perold.” He held his hand out in the direction of a tall, well-built dragon with red spirals that looked like tattoos all over his deep bluey-black body.

I jumped. “But he’s not in chains!” Not only wasn’t he tied down, but his head was held in an upright position so that he stared me in the eye.

“Perold is one of the very few free dragons in Drupes. I rescued him a couple of years back, and ever since he’s come to all of my protests.”

He patted the shoulder above Perold’s wing stubs, which I couldn’t help but stare at. Professor Quincey caught my gaze. “All dragons have their wings pruned. To stop them escaping.” He shuddered and Perold threw his head up and a sort of snort left his nostril. “And of course their voice boxes are removed.”

“That’s disgusting,” Jack said, his voice cold and his stare hard. He moved closer to Perold and reached out a hand. “May I?” He didn’t seem to be asking Professor Quincey for permission, but rather the dragon himself.

Perold looked at him and his black pupils widened, and I was sure I saw a glint of happiness pass through them as he looked at Jack. He bowed his head and Jack gently touched his snout.

“Kinda feels like a turtle,” he said with a grin. “But you look much, er, handsomer,” he quickly added.

Professor Quincey chuckled, and then his face turned serious. “There is a dragon execution scheduled for next Tuesday at 8.30. We are going to be there protesting it, would you be interested in coming?”

“We’ll be there,” Jack took the words from my mouth. “Why is the dragon being executed?”

“Blew an offensive smoke strip at a wedding, causing grief to the newlywed couple and their families.”

Jack looked in my direction. “They are going to kill him for that?”

I knew we were both thinking the same thing. Of the same dragon. The chapel.

“Yes, it’s unfair. We’ll do our best to stop it from happening.” Professor Quincey’s pocket started beeping. “Just a sec,” he said to us, taking out his Soundimer. “News crews and the police are here. That means it’s almost time for the—”

A woman’s voice cut through the air. “Thomas? Thomas, are you with Perold? It’s about time for your speech.”

“Coming, Rose!” he called out, then said to us, “My sister is anal about punctuality.”

“Heard that!” Rose said, coming around the corner of a meaty turquoise and purple dragon.

I sucked in air and forced myself not to gape. Jack’s eyes had widened and his mouth partially hung open. I elbowed him and gave him my just-pretend-you-don’t-notice-anything look. Then I extended my right arm in Rohesia Auber’s direction.

“Your name’s Rose?” I said, firmly gripping her hand.

She lifted her head to see me better. “Short for Rohesia.” Then she held out her hand toward Jack, who blinked, and only when I raised my elbow, quickly shook her hand.

“Professor Quincey led us here to meet Perold. We’re first timers,” I said.

Rohesia’s big blue eyes stared at me and Jack. She flashed a big smile. “We always like support for the dragon slavery abolition movement. That’s the most important thing we can get. It’s nice to meet you.” She faced Professor Quincey. “You ready for your speech? I just want to warn you, there are a bunch of pro-slavery activists crowding in the street below.”

Professor Quincey nodded and Rose disappeared down the side of the roof.

“She’s right. Support is essential to our cause. We are really lucky that so many professors from the university regularly take part. You’ll have a good view of everything from here. The clearer you ask your questions the easier you’ll understand the answers.” Then Professor Quincey also left.

With a look, Jack told me that he didn’t see that coming.

“Just as well we weren’t the ones at her door,” I whispered. “And good thing Terry and Faye didn’t show.”

He hummed in agreement.

“So,” Jack said, patting Perold, “Is it okay if I take a sample of smoke?”

As soon as Perold moved his head up and down, Jack whipped open his bag and took out a thin round container and unscrewed the lid. Perold puffed into it and I could see smoky wisps flickering through the glass.

“Your turn,” Jack said to me.

My head was still churning from seeing Rohesia, so I was a little disorientated and asked Perold the first thing that popped into my head, “Where were you born?”

Perold raised his head and blew out smoke, which transformed itself into a sketch. It looked like an outdoor hospital ward with mother dragons nursing their eggs. The image changed and I saw people taking the newborn babies away from the mothers. Chains locked the mums to their positions as they tried to reach out for their babies.

Something splashed on my shoe and I saw Perold was crying.

“I’m sorry,” Jack said. “This protest is here to change that.”

He reached out and patted the dragon’s chest.

I tensed, awaiting Perold’s reaction, but all he did was rest his snout on Jack’s shoulder.

A fizzy feeling tingled through my veins, and a flashback to our moment on the steps made me want to grab him and kiss him all over again. Right now I didn’t care he was a guy. Didn’t care about how confused I was.

Because I wasn’t. At that moment, I was very clear about what I wanted—

Professor Quincey’s voice made me turn around. I shuffled to the left to see past the dragon in front and onto the flat roof below. Professor Quincey stood with a megaphone in front of a crowd of protestors. Cameras were flashing on the street and a group of policemen lined up in a two-by-six formation.

“Our constitution states that every being has a right to be free. So why do we blatantly ignore it? In Drupes, one of our most important civil values is to be in harmony with nature. But while we tend our orchards and keep our streets immaculate, we fail to tend to our own constitution. With chains we disregard this fundamental principle.”

Cheers and chanting came from the crowd below us.

“I ask you, why is a peach worth more than a dragon?”

A loud gasping and roaring came from people both on the roof and on the streets. Perold tilted his head and pointed to the sky. I looked up and noticed all the smoke strips had vanished replaced with giant words scrawled across the sky.

Am I not a being, can’t I be your friend?

The whole street erupted into noise and it sounded like a carnival was taking place, only not everyone seemed to be crying out joyously. In fact, the happy cries and the outraged cries seemed evenly divided.

Professor Quincey put the megaphone to his lips and silenced at least one half of the crowd.

“We understand people have concerns about the dragon slavery abolition movement. They fear without the heat and energy dragons emit we won’t be able to keep our families warm, especially during the hard winter months.” He paused until the other half of the crowd had quietened. “But there are alternatives. Wind power, solar power, water power; electricity doesn’t have to come from farms of dragon slaves connected to energy extraction machines.”

One loud shout coming from the street interrupted him, “It’s idealistic, we can’t switch our entire energy source just like that. And who’s gonna pay for it?”

“Yes, sir, quite right. It will be expensive, and we can’t change everything at once.” I thought I’d hear a pin drop in the silence that pursued. Professor Quincey’s next words rung clearly through the night, “But it is an integral part of society for people to contribute. If we accept dragons as beings, improved their living conditions, and paid them for their work, the transition would run much more smoothly.”

Half the crowds shouted in agreement and the other half cursed upward. I heard the slapping of running footsteps. A group of ten people wearing red and black masks over their faces charged at the DSAM protestors on the flat rooftop. I watched in horror as they used their Soundimers to unbuckle their belts and started whipping the crowd with them.

I pulled Jack behind the large dragon. I didn’t want either of us to have to see this, and I certainly didn’t want any of them coming up here. Peeking down at the street, I was infuriated at how the police still stood in formation, watching and doing nothing. I know it would have been two-faced, but I wanted them to experience the pain, too. So they knew what they were allowing and they could feel ashamed of themselves.

I swung around at the sound of approaching footsteps. In the distance I saw a red and black mask and for a complete second I froze. Then, I found myself acting with incredible control.

“How can we get down from here?” I asked Perold.

He quickly sketched us a map, keeping his smoke-strip small and for our eyes only. I nodded.

“Can you get yourself somewhere safe, too?” Jack asked.

Despite the danger, a pleasant chill ran through me at his concern. Perold inclined his head, and I clutched Jack’s arm and we whizzed around the top of the roof on the other side, where we found a small path leading down to a ladder over the side of the building.

Once we reached the street, I took off my medallion and motioned Jack to do the same. “Let’s not wind up any of those scary-masked guys.”

“Agreed.”

Professor Quincey’s voice filled the air. “The brutality cannot go on . . . We wish for a peaceful protest . . .”

There was some heavy grunting before the words in the sky vanished and there was only darkness and the sound of screaming.