Page 54 of Saving the Last Heir
Shyanne looked down at the tool with a distant and sad look in her eyes. “Dad was born in Mexico before he immigrated here with his family. When he had this made, he took a trip there and brought home a big piece of volcanic obsidian glass from near a volcano that sat outside the town he was born in. He had that ground into powder and mixed in with the metal during the forging process,” she explained, her face growing evenmoresomber. “He also took one of my mom’s earrings and had that melted into it too. It’s got a little piece of himanda piece of herinside it.” She chuckled slightly. “He assumed it would have a place of honor on the wall of my office, but that’s dumb. A tool should be out in the shop. I don’t use it for work, though, I just kinda like having it on my belt. Makes me feel like they’re both with me even when they aren’t.”
“I kinda like that. It’s fitting,” I said. I knew about loss too, so her story struck me deep.
“Thanks,” she said, giving me an awkward grin before tucking the wrench back into her belt.
For the next couple hours, Reggie went over the car, spraying paint in spots that hadn’t cured properly, then spraying the clear coat onto the entire car. By the time he was done, it was lunchtime. Taking Christian’s words to heart from that morning, I ordered pizza, but had it delivered rather than rousing him out again.
“Bro, Rich Car Guy needs to come hang out every day,” Brent said through a mouthful of pepperoni pizza. “This is way better than the PB&J I usually pack for lunch.”
Shyanne slid a few slices on a paper plate, then nodded toward her office. “Jackson, do you have a minute?”
“Sure,” I said, and followed her with my own food.
Taking my seat across from hers, she closed the door and sat down. It felt a little like I’d been called into the principal’s office.
Setting her pizza down, she looked at me, a direct pointed stare. “I have questions.”
I paused, pizza halfway to my mouth. “Uh, yes? What are they?”
“Questions about shifters. Dragons and stuff,” she said.
“I’ll do my best. Hit me with what you’ve got.”
“How do you…do it?” she said, and then waved her hands at me as if casting a spell. “Like…change. Is it easy? Hard? Painful?”
I chuckled. “Not painful. It kinda feels like when your arm falls asleep. You know when the sensation isjustcoming back, and your arm is tingling and feels funny, almost like it tickles, but in a weird way?”
“Yeah,” she said, keeping her eyes glued on me as she took a bite.
“It’s not a physical thing either,” I said. “It’s more like a…” I tried to think of the best way to describe it. It was second nature to me and hard to explain. It was like trying to tell someone how the act of breathing worked. “Uh, like a handshake, I guess.”
“A handshake? What are you talking about?” She frowned at me.
I tapped the side of my head. “I’m not alone. Ineveram. My inner dragon is deep in my mind, entwined with my soul. A whole and complete other entity.”
Her eyes widened in shock, but she said nothing.
“He’sverysimilar to me, but more instinct-driven, more animal-like. Rather than multiple personalities, he’s more of a moral compass of sorts, muttering in his own way about things I see. I know when he likes something, I know when he’s angry, I know when he thinks I’m doing something dumb. He’s incredibly powerful when it comes to pushing me toward one decision or the other, but not strong enough to truly overpower me. My human mind is still the master.”
“That’s…” She shook her head. “Pretty freaking cool. I can’t imagine that.”
“Saying it out loud does make it seem more mystical,” I admitted. “I guess you don’t really recognize the amazing when you live with it every day.” I frowned. “It’s kind of a bummer, now that I think about it. All this magic and mystery that would blow humans’ minds, and we shrug it off.”
I’d never really thought about it. Now that I did, I sort of understood how special it was.
Shyanne and I ate in silence for a few moments, but the look on her face told me she had other questions.
“Keep asking,” I said. “I’m an open book.”
She rolled her eyes and tossed her empty plate into a trash can by her desk. “Okay fine. Imayhave been doing some research on dragons and magic and stuff.”
“Oh?” I said, leaning forward, eager to hear what she’d discovered. “Do tell.”
“I’ve read about ancient cultures, like, using alleged dragon body parts for magic and weapons. Is that true? I mean, if some medicine man or shaman way back in Mesopotamia managed to cut off your claw, could he use that?”
An interesting question. One that I had no clue about. It made sense. Wewerebeings of magic, but we’d also been hidden in the modern world long enough that some of the old stories had passed into legend.
“I’m honestly not sure,” I said. “Most likely it would work. Though, I’m not sure how anyone would know how to use that. Maybe as a weapon? I guess?” I offered.
