43. Dragon Flight
FORTY-THREE
DRAGON FLIGHT
For the shapeshifter, dealing with Ordinary bureaucracies can be a tedious, if not downright exasperating, task. Forms, queues, and endless paperwork may test your patience, but maintaining composure is crucial if you wish to avoid drawing unwanted attention.
Try to approach all matters of paperwork with an air of calm efficiency. Avoid letting frustration show—gritted teeth or tapping fingers are sure to raise suspicions. When in doubt, ask polite questions and double-check the fine print before signing anything.
–EXCERPT FROM THE METAMORPHIC MAN: A GENTLEMAN SHAPESHIFTER’S GUIDE TO CULTURED CONDUCT
“I tried to stop him. He wouldn’t listen,” a tearful Rosie told the Ordinary officer. “He was mixed up with some pretty bad people, drugs…Ever since his grandmother passed away he’s been alone.”
Technically, this was all true. But it was only half the story, and Arthur was growing impatient. Rosie wouldn’t look at him. She kept glancing at the door.
“Where’s Maida?” she asked, suddenly.
“Back at the bookshop,” Arthur answered. “Will Porter’s waiting downstairs. He’s got Buffalo’s van, he’ll drive us home.”
Arthur would have liked to open a hole in the wall of the interview room and sweep his daughter into it, and emerge into the Mudpuddle on the other side.
Rosie’s eyes were hollow. Rather than their usual fire, they reflected the fluorescent lights above.
She’d been chewing her fingernails. Her polish was chipped.
Her hair hung limply. She leaned forward and folded her head into her arms, burying her face in the crook of her elbow.
“Can we please go home now?” she asked in a monotone.
Arthur glared at the officer, who’d already gone over the story twice. “My daughter has been through a traumatic event. It’s after midnight. Would you mind if I took her home now?”
Another officer, this one a woman, came into the room.
She seemed more sympathetic. She handed Rosie a box of tissues and patted her on the shoulder.
“I’m so sorry, hon. There’s nothing you could have done.
” Rosie took a tissue and blew her nose.
Arthur watched in shock as a bit of ash floated up to the ceiling, thankfully extinguishing itself en route.
“Is someone smoking in the building again?” the female officer wrinkled her nose. “Or is that just you that smells like cigarettes, Officer Brown?” She set a piece of paper in front of the other officer.
As he read it, he frowned. “Does this Bardo kid not have any other kin who might come forward for his body?”
Rosie stood up too quickly, pushing her chair back so hard it fell. “I’m leaving,” she said. “Now.”
The female officer glared at the man. “Sensitivity training?” she mouthed.
“Fine, fine, you’re free to go,” Officer Brown said, waving a hand without looking away from the stack of paperwork in front of him. “Call us if you think of anything, or anyone else we should talk to. What a mess. Another unclaimed body. Just what we needed.”
Arthur pressed his card into the officer’s hand. “I’ll take care of the funeral arrangements. The Chan family were friends of ours. Have the coroner call me.”
Then he placed his arm around his daughter and held her close, silently steering her out of this Ordinary hell.
The van was parked illegally in front of the police station, but at this hour nobody seemed to notice or care.
Will was holding the door open for them.
Impulsively, he threw his arms around Rosie.
“Don’t mind me,” he said as he released her.
“I’ll just tell the driver to drive us around the block a few times.
I can sit up front if you like. You two can talk.
I’m just so glad you’re okay.” Will used the cuff of his jacket to buff away a tear from the corner of his eye.
“There’s no time for that!” Rosie glanced back and forth, as if checking whether the coast was clear, before jumping to the van. “That man’s still out there. Tell the driver to head back towards the passage.”
“Slow down.” Arthur climbed in behind her and Will slid the door shut. “Tell us what happened with Bardo. And don’t leave anything out this time.”
Rosie wrapped her arms around herself and rocked in the seat. “You know, then? About me?”
Arthur nodded curtly. Rosie groaned. Will looked away.
“I can go if you two need a moment,” Will offered.
“No. Stay,” Rosie said. She squeezed his hand and raised her chin. “I have nothing to hide. I’m not ashamed of being a dragon.”
“Well of course you’re not!” Will said incredulously. He held out his hand to slap hers and quickly took a seat on the other side. “Why would anyone be?!”
“When we were little, Bardo used to mock me when I said I wanted my shift to settle as something mythical, like a dragon. He called me names like lizard legs. I knew he was just jealous, though. Ah Ma Pearl paid more attention to me than him, and he was her own flesh and blood. I felt sorry for him.”
“That was very mature of you, Rosie.” Will nodded. “Few kids can sympathize with their bullies.”
“Bardo could be nice, too. He always shared his snacks with me and he used to pick flowers for me.” Rosie closed her eyes tight and rubbed her temples as she recalled this.
“I didn’t even suspect what I was ’til a couple of years ago,” Rosie admitted. “I just thought I was a late shifter, an ugly girl with unusually dry skin and red eyes. To be honest, I was afraid I’d turn out to be a goat.” She sniffled as she laughed. “At least I’m not a goat.”
“There’s nothing wrong with goats,” Arthur said.
“Right.” Rosie nodded. “So, none of this actually matters. I know I’m not making sense. But I just want you to know that it’s not entirely Bardo’s fault that he is…was…” she paused and swallowed. “It’s not entirely Bardo’s fault that he was such a cloud headed clod.”
Tears streamed down her face again as she said this, and Arthur slid closer, holding his daughter in his arms.
“Oh, Daddy…” she cried, the floodgates releasing as she remained there, shaking and sobbing.
He waited as long as he possibly could, which probably wasn’t long at all, before asking.
“What happened, Rosie?”
“You know how Bardo was selling Nocturnaturals?” Rosie whispered.
“No!” Will gasped, holding a hand over his mouth.
Arthur pulled away, leaning back to look at his daughter. He felt like he hardly knew her, and this realization hurt.
“Not to magicals!” she corrected. “And not illegally, technically! It wasn’t like he was dealing street drugs. It was all legit. He was a…what do you call it when Ordinaries sign up to sell things from home?”
“He was a sales rep,” Will furnished the term.
He was a mark.
Arthur kept the thought to himself.
“That!” Rosie pointed a finger at Will. “He was a sales rep. His territory was Boston, and only Boston. He didn’t sell to anyone in Primrose Court. And he was making decent money. He was doing it for Ah Ma, he said. To pay her medical bills.” Rosie frowned. “Except…”
“Except what?” Will asked before Arthur could.
“Except he had to bring all his samples home with him, and some of the tougher shifters he’s friends with thought it might be fun to try the stuff.”
“He gave Nocturnaturals to other kids in Primrose Court?” Arthur’s blood was approaching a full boil again.
“No. They stole it from him. And when he got angry with them, they called him a coward. This was around the same time Ah Ma got real, real sick. And then she told Bardo that she was giving her grimoire to me, even though it was a valuable family heirloom. She said that I deserved it more.” Rosie’s eyes were shining.
Her voice cracked. “She told him she still loved him, even though he was such a…yak.” She took a deep breath before going on.
“We both knew what she really meant. She meant he was a disappointment. That’s when Bardo started experimenting with a few of the products himself.
I think he felt like he had nothing to lose. ”
“Oh no…” Will rested his head in his hands. “That’s so sad.”
Rosie turned her face up to Arthur’s. He could see the ocean of tears that threatened to drown her fire. It made his whole chest ache.
“All I can think about is how that must have felt for Bardo. I don’t ever want to be a disappointment to you, Dad.”
“There’s no way,” Arthur said. He placed his hands on her shoulders and shook her gently for emphasis. “Not even if you were an ugly chalk-eating goat. You’re my beautiful daughter, and I know who you really are. I see your beautiful soul, Rosie Hart. I’d still love everything about you.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you. I love you too, Dad. So, so, so much.”
Rosie squeezed him back. He was struck by the strength in her arms. She accepted another tissue from Will and blew her nose, gently this time. “I’ll try not to set the van on fire.” The corner of her mouth tucked itself into a wry twist.
“I’d been talking to Bardo about getting out of Nocturnaturals. Since his Ah Ma died, there was no reason he couldn’t go back to school and learn a trade.”
Arthur held his tongue. It was a moot point now, but the odds of recovering from the languor, once a magical was addicted to synthetic magic, were slim.
“He spoke with his supervisor and they agreed to release him from his contract. He had to return all his equipment and samples. They agreed not to make him pay back what he still owed them if he showed them his Ah Ma’s grimoire.”
“How did they even know about the grimoire?” Arthur asked.
“Bardo bragged about it during his interview. That’s mostly why they hired him, I think. He said he would bring magical assets to the company.”
“Son of a troll,” Will uttered wearily.
“But it wasn’t his book to share,” Arthur filled in the next bit. “So he needed you to bring it.”
“To be fair,” Rosie repeated, “he didn’t even really know what was in the book. Ah Ma never showed it to him. He thought he’d borrow it and just let them copy down some of her stinky old chicken soup recipes and we’d be on our merry way,” Rosie explained.