Page 6 of Ensnared
“It’s not over. People are still playing.” Sammy sticks out his bottom lip, but I can tell it’s a manipulation this time.
“I want to do the cakewalk,” Coral says. “I can win for sure.”
“One round of the cakewalk,” I finally say. “If we don’t leave early, we’ll get stuck in the parking lot for half an hour.”
“So?” Sammy asks.
I ruffle his hair. “Oh, shut up.”
We all head for the cakewalk in a little herd. When I was younger, it used to bother me sometimes that I had so many younger siblings. But now that they’re all out of diapers, and I’m not home as much to help out around the house, I’m glad Mom and Dad had so many.
“And are you cake-walking too?” The woman who’s waving all three kids through looks at me expectantly.
“Oh, sure,” I say. “I’ll give it a go.”
Coral bumps me out on round one, snaking my chair just before I can sit. She shrugs and smiles and tosses her head, indicating that I should get out of the circle.
Jade gets cut before Sammy by some exuberant older boy, but the little guy only makes it another round or two. It’s down to just Coral and two very obnoxious boys who seem to be planning to work together to squish her out when I hear it.
It’s a strange sound, like a helicopter that had its tail stepped on. A whirring, shrill whine. It’s coming from above us, but it’s a bright afternoon in Houston, so I have to shield my eyes to make out anything at all. When I finally make sense of the genesis of that strange noise, my brain rejects it.
It can’t really be a massive, silver dragon.
It has a large head with a triangular face and horns that curve back from right above its huge eyes. The scales covering its body glitter in the sun, like burnished sterling. Its neck curves, long and graceful, its limbs nevertheless broad and massive, and it moves in a very serpentine way, its wings beating wildly as it lowers toward the Boo Bash.
Maybe it’s an elaborate display, because dragons aren’t real.
Only, I can feel the wind created by the beating of its wings. I can hear the crooning it’s emitting as it lowers toward us. And when I blink, it doesn’t disappear or distort like an illusion would. When it lands on the roof at the edge of the school, the brick structure disintegrates, chunks rolling and then striking the ground below. Its enormous claws crush metal and concrete alike, further damaging the school just to hold up its massive form. One particularly large piece of rubble strikes an older man on the head, and he crumples to the ground.
By now, I’m not the only one who’s noticed the new arrival, and a few people are running, screaming, away from it. That’s probably what I should be doing, honestly, but I’m too shocked to run. I’m still trying to wrap my brain around what I’m seeing.
I’m here for you, says a horrible, sepulchral voice in my head that I somehow know is the dragon. It’s cold, it’s high, and it’s piercing. You, who can hear me. Come to me, and I’ll spare the others. Make me locate you, and I’ll destroy them all for fun.
I look around to see who else can hear it. Everyone else around me is now sprinting away or covering their ears. Sammy dives for me, wrapping his arms around my waist and staring, wide-eyed, at the silver beast. Coral’s holding Jade’s hand, and they’re both fumbling their way back toward me. No one seems to have heard a thing.
I know you’re here. I sense you. I’ll count to ten, and then I’ll start to destroy them, all the humans, until you yield.
When I finally find my mom, she’s staring right at me. Her eyes are wide and frightened, but her head’s held high. She taps her chest, tosses her head sideways at the silver dragon, and then she points at me and mouths the words, “You take the kids and keep them safe.”
Keep them safe? What’s she saying? Why wouldn’t she?—
I hear you. I’m coming. It’s my mom’s voice. I’d recognize it anywhere. She just answered the beast.
Mom’s avoiding the fleeing crowds as she winds her way toward the edge of the school. The creature’s staring right at her, its eyes gleaming, the corner of its mouth turned up into something almost like a smile. It bobs its head.
I am Ocharta, strike blessed. I have need of you.
Mom bows.
And then I feel a tug—a painful pull, like someone has coated me in a sticky film from the scalp of my head down to the webbing between my toes, and they’re pulling, hard. I double down, close my eyes, set my feet, and push back against it with everything I’ve got.
As suddenly as it happens, the tugging stops, but when I open my eyes, Mom’s standing stock still. She looks the same, except for her hair. She always had gorgeous, nearly black hair. It shone like the wing of a raven. It was long, falling in thick, unruly waves past her waist. It’s still long and wavy, but now it’s changed to a metallic shade of grey that sparkles in the setting sunlight. That’s when I realize that it exactly matches the dragon’s scales.
Mom turns around, slowly, and her eyes cut toward mine.
Go! Mom shouts again, but this time she’s commanding me to leave.
The beast lets out a shriek, and then it launches into the air. Suddenly, it’s swooping and diving, and as it passes, crackles of electricity shoot from its body, striking entire groups of people.
