13. Artemis
ARTEMIS
I was thrilled.
Probably an irresponsible emotional response given the circumstances, but it was the truth. Somewhere between nearly being incinerated and watching a man I liked turn into a dragon, my brain had decided this was the best thing that had ever happened to me.
That was the part of me that had always wanted the world to be bigger and stranger than it was. Apparently that part had been waiting patiently for fire and scales.
Magic was real. Dragons were real. And my life had just become extremely interesting.
I stood outside the wrecked storage building with my hands shaking slightly from leftover adrenaline and a deep, buzzing sense of awe that refused to quiet down. In the distance, sirens wailed, but my brain barely registered it.
Concrete dust coated my shoes. The metal door was folded in on itself. I cataloged the damage automatically, because that was easier than cataloging the fact that none of this would ever fit back into my old life.
Arthur turned toward me. “Are you hurt?”
“No,” I said immediately. Then, because my brain demanded accuracy, “Not physically. Emotionally, we can circle back.”
His hands hovered near my shoulders, clearly wanting to check anyway. He stopped himself, visibly choosing restraint, and that choice did something inconvenient to my heart.
Of course he would ask before touching. Of course he would stop himself. I’d have to deal with the fact that my standards had just been violently recalibrated.
“You saved my life,” he said.
“I used office safety equipment.”
“That doesn’t diminish the achievement.”
Percy cleared his throat loudly from a few steps away. “I would like it noted that this was not what I expected to happen tonight.”
“That seems to be the theme,” I said.
The thrill settled just enough for logic to start pushing in. Questions stacked on top of each other in my mind. Dragons. Lineage. Missing history. Someone trying to erase people who knew too much.
I crossed my arms, the movement grounding me. “Okay, start with the part where dragons are real and I don’t lose my mind about it.”
Arthur inclined his head slightly. “They aren’t simply stories or mythology. We exist.”
“Hidden,” I said. “On purpose?”
“Yes.”
I waited, but he didn’t rush to fill the silence.
“Because humans freaked out?” I asked finally.
“Because we started losing our power, and humans learned how to fear magic, then how to weaponize that fear,” he replied. “It became safer to keep ourselves hidden.”
That tracked depressingly well.
I nodded once. “Okay, and the genealogies?”
His jaw tightened. “Bloodlines carry more than names. They carry continuity, stability. Magic itself.”
“And when the records disappear,” I said, “so does the stability.” My stomach sank. “So, this isn’t just for curiosity’s sake?”
“No.”
“But you don’t actually know what happened,” I said carefully. “Not yet.”
“No,” he agreed. “Something disrupted the balance centuries ago. I don’t know how, or why, or what.”
“But you’re fairly sure the gap in your genealogy matters?”
“Yes.”
“Enough that someone is trying to kill you for looking into it?”
His gaze held mine. “That appears to be the case. Although this is the furthest I’ve ever gotten in my search, so I wasn’t aware of the danger prior to coming to your library.”
I let that sit between us. The not knowing. The weight of it.
“So,” I said slowly, “someone erased part of your history, something in that history is linked to the decline of your people in slow motion, and now anyone who notices becomes a problem.”
“That’s my working theory.”
I exhaled. “Cool. I mean, horrifying. Extremely not cool.”
He didn’t contradict that.
“That means,” I said, “someone did something to cause the decays.”
Arthur nodded once. “Something deliberate.”
“And now someone is willing to kill to keep it that way.”
He didn’t look away. “Yes.”
The quiet that followed was louder than the noise had been.
It was too much to absorb all at once, but some part of me understood the shape of it. A wrong had been committed, the truth hidden. And Arthur was trying to put things back to the way they were supposed to be.
I was looking at him differently now. Not just as the man who had turned into a dragon, but as someone who, despite holding the fate of an entire race on his shoulders, still worried whether I was all right.
Which seemed very on brand for him.
Percy approached us with the face of a man ready to move on to the afterlife.
“We need to go to Edinburgh,” Arthur said. “Soon.”
Percy lifted both hands. “Absolutely not. I am officially done with adventure. I have enjoyed my survival streak and would like to preserve it.”
Arthur regarded him calmly. “You’re still in danger.”
“Yes, I am, which is why I will be in hiding. I have a place from my college days. No one will look for me there.” He glanced at his smashed car. “I’ll, uh, need a ride.”
Arthur nodded. “I’ll take care of it.”
The sirens drew closer, catching Arthur’s attention. “We need to figure out the logistics. Artemis, are you sure you want to come?”
“Yes.”
He searched my face. “You don't owe me this.”
“I know,” I said. “That’s why I’m saying yes.”
A spark zinged between us.
“I’d like to grab a few things from my apartment,” I added. “If that’s okay?”
“Of course,” he said. “I’ll need a few things as well.”
He lifted his hand and pressed his thumb to a small mark on his wrist. It was the first time I’d noticed the symbol etched into his skin. My brain tagged it as Important and Definitely Not Decorative. Before I could ask, the world bent, and someone appeared out of nowhere.
I yelped.
Percy shrieked and ducked behind a traffic barrier.
The man who materialized was well-dressed, looked annoyed, and deeply unimpressed by reality at large. I recognized him from the brief video call in Arthur’s car.
“Arthur, you could have given me more warning,” he said.
Arthur lowered his hand. “You arrived quickly.”
“You activated the bond,” the man snapped. “That is not a casual summons.”
“I needed you.”
The man sighed. “Obviously.”
My mouth dropped open. “He just… He just appeared.”
Arthur glanced at me. “This is Caliban.”
“Hi, yes, we keep meeting,” I said faintly.
Caliban’s gaze slid to me, his eyes narrowing. “Oh,” he said. “It’s you.”
“This is Artemis,” Arthur said. “There was an attack. Six of them.”
Caliban’s expression shifted immediately. Focused. Sharp. “Casualties?”
“None on our side,” Arthur said. “One fled. The rest won’t be a problem again.”
Caliban nodded once. “Information breach?”
“Yes,” Arthur said. “Percy Caballero has records relating to the missing period in my genealogy. Someone wanted them erased. And her.”
Caliban’s gaze slid over me. He studied me, but it didn’t feel intrusive. More calculating and sort of protective.
“She’s implicated,” Arthur continued. “Which means she is not safe alone. I’m taking her with me.”
He gave no explanation beyond that.
Caliban exhaled slowly. “Understood.”
“I need you to go home,” Arthur said. “Pack a bag for me. Bring the travel kit, the map, and the seals.”
Caliban nodded, and I could see him shifting mental gears. “How long?”
“Unsure,” Arthur replied. “Be ready to drive when you return.”
“Drive?” he asked, his forehead creasing
“Yes,” Arthur said. “You’ll take Percy where he needs to go. After that, take the car north and return it home.”
Caliban glanced at Percy, who lifted a hand in a small, apologetic wave.
“I’m taking the Gullwing,” Caliban said flatly.
“Very well.”
Caliban stared at him for a moment. Then he sighed. “I knew today would be expensive.”
Arthur’s mouth curved almost imperceptibly. “Don't scratch it.”
Caliban snorted. “I survived your father’s reign. I can handle a human transportation machine.” Caliban turned to me. “Try not to let him brood too much.”
“I make no promises,” I said.
That earned me a brief look of surprised approval.
Arthur continued. “Please update my mother of my departure at your soonest convenience. And try not to worry her.”
He glanced around the wreckage, then added, as if continuing a previous thought, “Also, for preparedness, there is currently significant human discourse about whether Zendaya and Tom Holland are still together. This may affect crowd behavior at airports.”
Arthur frowned. “Why would that matter?”
“It matters,” Caliban said calmly.
“Airports are not a consideration.”
Caliban glanced at me and then back to Arthur. “Wait. You’re flying?”
“Yes.”
“With her?”
“Yes.”
“Right. Solid decisions all around. I’ll be back shortly,” Caliban said to Arthur. Then, in the blink of an eye, he vanished.
Arthur took a step closer to me. “Are you really all right?”
“Yes,” I said. This time, it was completely true.
Sure, I was confused and terrified. But I was also thrilled and absolutely committed to joining him on this journey. Besides, who didn’t love solving mysteries?
Somewhere deep in the depths of my chest, something warm and steady hummed in agreement.
The future felt wide open instead of overwhelming.
Probably a bad sign.
I stood at the edge of the lot with my arms wrapped around myself, staring at Arthur like my brain might still catch up and veto the entire sequence of events.
It did not.
“We’ll fly low and for short distances at first,” Arthur said with all the calm in the world, as if he were explaining a scenic route instead of the fact that he was about to turn into a dragon again. “It will help you acclimate.”
Acclimate to flying on a dragon?
“Okay,” I said, because my mouth had decided to be brave even if the rest of me had yet to sign the waiver.
He took a step closer. “Before I change, a few things. Dragons avoid detection by most human technology. Radar, cameras, satellites. We don't bend light so much as… persuade it to look elsewhere.”
“That is deeply unsettling,” I said. “And impressive.”
“You’ll be able to speak to me while we are airborne,” he continued. “I’ll hear you. If you need anything, say so. Don't hesitate.”
I nodded, filing that away in the rapidly expanding mental folder labeled Things I Will Process Later.