Ch. 3: Oh Mother Dearest
Miranda O'Toole had only let Jenna have her second name. I had been born first, but I had been the evidence of my mother's affair. So I was just Lynch. A headache for the school and a constant confusion when I used to declare that Jenna was my sister. Especially when she grew old enough to soak in my mother's embarrassment about my problems.
I straightened in the seat, my body pulling tense like a bowstring. I listened to the car engine shut out and the door pop open. There was only silence from the driveway then. The two Riders had grown silent, but Gabriel danced his fingers along the leather belt on his waist where a set of knives hung.
Mam's shoes crunched on the drive. Then, on the wood and glass in the front hall. My fingers were trembling as I brushed down the counter in front of me, and inside my chest, my heart was pounding. Mo Dhia, I wanted to vanish into nothing. Just go poof and hide in a darkened corner for the storm to pass.
Mam appeared in the kitchen doorway and stared at us all. Her dark hair was twisted into an elegant knot, her lips painted in a soft shade of nude. Not a thread of hair was out of place. She took her time examining us all, her lips pressed into that thin, stern line.
Dem cleared his throat, stepping forward with a warm smile, "I gather that you are..."
Mam swung a condemning glare in my direction. Her eyes were so dark, so angry as she bit out, "What did you do?"
"Mam..." The words lumped in my throat. Weak. I had tried to fight some supernatural creature hell-bent on killing me, but my mother knocked any courage from me with a look.
Swiftly, Mam strode across the kitchen and gripped Jenna's chin tight. She turned her face to the light, her fingers digging into Jenna's skin. Her gaze cut towards me again. "Answer me!"
"We were attacked." Pain throbbed in my throat. I wondered if the creature's fingerprints would be painted across my neck for days. Maybe weeks. I didn't really know. No one had strangled me before. "It broke down the door, and we would have been killed if it weren't for Dem and Gabriel here."
Mam finally acknowledged them. "Neely referred to Jenna's attacker as it. Did he strike her so hard that she is addled, or is my daughter simply that stupid?"
My cheeks burned red, but I knew better than to argue. Dem glanced at me with a frown, but I gave him a placating smile. It was best not to argue. My mother disarmed most people; she was well-put together, well-respected in the community, and always friendly to those who could get her ahead. Only a few unlucky people knew how sharp her tongue was.
Dem's frown did not abate as he returned his attention to Mam. That warm tone faded, and he spoke in clipped words. "Your daughters are lucky to be alive. They fought bravely, as ignorant of our world as they are. Neither of them is addled or stupid."
Mam hitched her chin higher. "They stayed and fought. Smarter girls would have run."
"Mam," Jenna said meekly. "Neely attacked it to save me."
"Your face is bruised. Clearly, her attempts were unsuccessful. Still..." Mam gazed at me, eyes dark and intrusive. "It's about time you showed some actual courage in your life."
I stared at the counter, marking every crumb. Every stain. I couldn't look at the two Riders, knowing that any good impression that I might have made was now obliterated.
"Neely is a Dragon Rider." Gabriel rose, poised and confident. He stared at my mother with a matched level of haughtiness, a sneer curling his lip. "Which means her soul is bound for something far bigger than you can understand. Fate has pulled its strings, and it is her time now to become who she is meant to be."
"I'm not..." I threw a glance at my mother. Her expression was cold fury. Mam knew where these two Riders were from. She knew the legacy that my father's family had left behind there. I had always known about the life behind what other people could see, but I had never wanted it to find me. "I'm not a Rider. Mam's right...I'm not brave."
Dem leaned over the counter, closing his hand over mine. He smiled sadly at me. "You've seen the demon that came to find you. You see things. It's hard to explain all of this now, but I know you're a Rider. I can sense it."
"How?"
He thought about it for a second. "Meeting a Rider in a group of humans is like an ice cube being shoved down your throat. Or a thunderbolt of heat inside your head. We all share a bond with our dragons, so it's like we feel a flicker of that in each other. Even when the bond is not formed yet."
"And," Gabriel added, "the Oracles have never gotten it wrong."
Dem gave no warning as he flipped my hand over, exposing my palm. Softly, he drew up my sleeve. Tapping the little splotched freckle on my palm, he said, "All Riders developed the same mark in their teenage years. Some are born with another mark here..."
He tapped a small mark in the crease of my elbow. One I barely even remembered being there. Laying his forearm beside mine to expose the intricate tattoo of an azure-blue dragon, he said, "When the bond forms, the brand appears in the exact likeness of your bound. It's a perfect replica, down to the last scale."
I couldn't help myself. I gripped his wrist, gently turning it to catch it better under the light. It was intricate. The tail—tipped white—curled right inside his elbow. That body, long and strong, travelled along his inner forearm to where the dragon's head rested at the centre of his palm. A tiny eye seemed to stare up at me, watching me with a slitted pupil.
"Does your dragon have a name?" I relinquished my grip on his wrist unwillingly, fascinated by the tattoo's detail. I wished anything that I drew was as perfect and neat as that.
"His name is Astor." Dem glanced down at the brand on his arm, his tone reverent. "And I think you'll like him, Neely. It's difficult not to."
Mam cleared her throat delicately. "Neely isn't anything like you think she is. And she's still seventeen, so that means she is my legal ward. I'm not letting her trapeze off with two young men for the laugh of it."
"I'll be eighteen in November..."
"Did I ask you to contribute?" Mam cut back. "No? No. I didn't."
"That isn't your choice," Gabriel said caustically. "It is hers."
"I am her mother."
"And you would stand in the way of her life being fulfilled? Forcing her to live a half-life when she knows that what is needed to complete it is in a place she cannot access. She will live a life where she constantly looks over her shoulder because the supernatural in this world will sense what she could have been. An untrained Rider, no matter if they've shunned their fate, would be hunted for sport. It would be an unhappy life," Gabriel snarled at her. "Would you want to live a life like that?"
Mam drew a hand along Jenna's arm softly, staring at her softly. When she reached Jenna's injured wrist, she seemed to make her decision. "Having Neely in my home would bring danger to Jenna?"
"It could," Gabriel said softly.
Mam nodded sagely. There was no warmth in her eyes that were as green and dark as Jenna's. "Go and pack your room up, Neely."
"What?" I stared at her.
"I want you out of this house." Mam stepped around the island counter, a thin and small woman but a behemoth of curt aggression. "Go with these Riders. Go to the bus stop. Just get out."
"Mam," Jenna said finally, her voice tiny. "You can't just kick her out! She's my sister."
"Half-sister," Mam reminded her swiftly, then sighed as if bored. "Neely, don't make me repeat myself. Pack now. Try not to make a mess."
There was a plea on my tongue. A wish for help. I didn't want to go with these two Riders. I wanted to go to the city and paint. Not fight. The kitchen was awkwardly quiet as I slipped from the stool, but there wasn't pity on the Riders' faces. Just a mask of stone as they watched my mother.
"I—" My voice was just a warped jumble. I fell silent again, choosing to leave before I embarrassed myself.
Dem followed me out into the hall, and I heard Gabriel begin to talk lowly in the kitchen.
"Do you need me to help you pack?" he asked. "It's actually one of my many talents."
"Do you have many talents?" I wiped the first traitorous tear from my face before turning around to him.
"Oh many," Dem boasted. "But if you need a minute, I can wait for you."
"I want to do it alone," I whispered.
"Of course." His voice was just as soft. There was no pity on his face, but he touched my shoulder briefly. "Gabriel and I will wait. Take as long as you need."
I climbed the stairs achingly slow, hands drifting along the bannister. I had always dreamed of leaving home, of making my own way, but never like this. I always thought it would be on my own terms—not kicked out for something I could barely understand.
For a long time, I didn't pack anything. I sat on the edge of my bed, conscious of the ache in my body. The burn in my throat. Maybe Mam would change her mind? Maybe time would pass, and I could come home?
All of this was so messy.
I was slow as I packed. The lump of tears in my throat and the pain of blooming bruises was enough to throw me off kilter. Everything had to be perfect. Don't make a mess.
Everything had a place. Everything had a way of being folded and tucked away. I could control this. I could have some sort of say over this, even if it was small. I brought my art supplies, my brushes and paints, and old work. I tucked my camera into the corner of my suitcase and stuffed my wages in a little hidden pocket too. The last thing I took was a picture of Jenna and me, both eleven and ten.
A knock came at the door, and Jenna stepped inside without invitation. "You're leaving."
"I am."
Jenna leaned against the doorframe, her dark eyes watchful. "We won't see each other for a while."
"I know." I glanced down at the picture of our smiling faces. "Will you miss me?"
Jenna glanced down at her nails. "That handsome one—the blond—says that we'll get a chance to visit you after Halloween."
"I doubt Mam will let you go." I handed her the photo. "Do you...want this?"
Jenna glanced at it, her jaw tightening. "You keep it. I can't have you forgetting what I look like. Just promise me one thing, Neely."
"Depends on what it is." I tucked the photo away safely.
Jenna's eyes were hard. "Just don't get yourself killed. I'll be so annoyed with you if you do."
A smile cracked out, despite the dread weighing down on my shoulders. "So, before I get brutally butchered or something else just as terrible, I'll just tell them that they can't kill me because Jenna O'Toole will be annoyed. I'm sure that will work."
"Don't be such an eejit," Jenna snapped. "We survived that demon thing, didn't we?"
"Barely."
Jenna rolled her eyes, stepping out from the doorway. "Don't be so morose."
Our attention turned to the footsteps sounding on the landing. Dem appeared, cautiously examining the two of them. Gabriel was close on his heels, looking more impatient than anything else.
"Are you packed?" Dem flashed me a smile. "We'll bring your things to the car."
"A car?" I asked. "I expected something more supernatural from two Dragon Riders."
"We need to blend in." Dem's nose wrinkled. "Believe me, I don't want to be one of those metal monstrosities for any longer than necessary."
"You don't have cars where you're from?" I began handing them bags; every passing second in their presence, I felt a flicker of awareness of their inhumanity. I had felt it like a punch in the café, but now it was a gentle thrum of awareness.
"Where we are from and where you are going is Valaxia. And no, we don't have cars." Dem hefted bags into his arms; his tone was jovial. "You'll see."
I followed them back downstairs, the dread growing. Jenna ghosted my steps, silent now, as the two Riders began to bring the bags outside into the growing dimness of evening.
I stepped into the kitchen. Miranda stood there, leaning against the counter with a cup of tea tucked close to her chest. Her eyes were distant, her expression pensive as she stared out into the back garden.
"I'm leaving now, Mam."
She didn't look at me. She continued to stare out at the grey skies, steam wafting up from her mug.
I inched a step closer. "I won't be back for a long time."
She didn't answer as the Riders returned and went upstairs to collect more bags.
The lump in my throat grew septic, and I felt my lips quivering and my throat thick with tears as I asked, "Will you not even say goodbye?"
Mam paused then and sighed. For a moment, her gaze flickered over my shoulder to where the Riders were stepping back outside, their boots crunching on glass and splintered wood. Now, I could hear the low purr of an engine. A signal that it was time to go.
Mam returned her attention to me. "Valaxia will eat someone like you up, Neely. It will grind your bones to dust and melt your mind. Don't fool yourself."
I flinched. "Someone like me?"
She took a sip of tea. "It will consume you."
Anger flashed through me, masking the hurt that burned just as viciously. "One day, you'll regret saying that."
She didn't reply. I guess that's that. I retreated into the hall, torn between anger and humiliation. Jenna sat on the stairs, one hand gripping the bannister tightly. When I looked at her, she looked frighteningly young. Whispering so Mam wouldn't hear, she said, "I'll miss you."
"Goodbye, Jenna," I said.
I stepped into the growing darkness to where a car waited with the backdoor opened. Gabriel set a set of bags into the boot, clicking it shut with a glance in my direction. I slid into the back seat as the Riders took the front.
"The body is still there," I whispered as Dem took the passenger seat.
"There is a unit coming to clean up the mess." Dem turned around to me. "A special unit of...soldiers tasked with keeping Valaxia a secret. That unit will keep an eye on your family until the heat dies down. Move them if it doesn't."
"They'll be safe?"
Gabriel took the driver's seat.
"Yes," Dem told me softly. "They will be."
I just nodded.
As the car drove down the gravel path, out towards the country road, I didn't look back.