Tricks for Free (InCryptid #7)

It is a crime, what they have done to the Lost Colony, and I am beyond grateful for my own gracious, beloved Priestess, for were she any less, my own faith might have begun to waver.

We ran into the shelter of a trash can and I sniffed again, ignoring the tempting scents of half-eaten food drifting from the garbage, focusing instead on what I had detected before. There were people everywhere, gazing out the windows or at their small electronic devices. They seemed resigned to their wait.

And there, standing at a half-circle counter with the flight time displayed on the wall behind it, was a woman in a simple polyester uniform, wearing flat shoes and tapping on a keyboard. I inhaled again. The scent of her was unmistakable.

Dragon.

“Come,” I squeaked, and launched myself across the open space before Mork could ask why. When we reached her side, I did not hesitate, but flung myself onto her ankle and raced up her leg, gripping carefully at her stockings. She would not thank me if I required their replacement. Mork followed me.

The dragon did not stop her typing as we ran along her leg, did not betray in any fashion that she was in distress. This, I had expected. Dragons survive by failing to attract attention beyond that which is necessary. This dragon might attempt to pop us into her mouth if given the opportunity, but she would neither scream nor slap us away unless someone else gave voice to our appearance.

Once upon the counter, I darted behind her keyboard, where I would not be visible to any who might approach. Mork matched me more timidly, clearly confused by my actions. I sat back on my haunches and waved a paw. The dragon looked at us, raising an eyebrow, and said nothing.

“Hail and well met,” I squeaked. “Hail to you, Dragon.”

Her other eyebrow joined the first. “Hmm,” she said.

“We require passage to Portland,” I informed her. “This plane is going to Portland. Can you please arrange for our placement on the plane?”

The woman stopped typing and lifted the receiver of a black telephone. Anyone not looking would have been unable to tell that the forefinger of her other hand was occupied with depressing the button to keep the phone from knowing that it had been disturbed.

“Today’s flight to Portland, Oregon is two-thirds full, and seats are available,” she said. “How would you like to pay?”

“We have no money,” I said, showing her my empty paws. “We will not occupy a seat. We will hide, and hide well. My family has dealt often with dragons, and Aeslin mice do not forget. Tell us your name and you will be rewarded for your actions.”

The dragon froze, more completely than anything mammalian could ever have done. She mimicked the human face and form with the perfection of the desperate, even down to quirks of anatomy that had no business appearing on anything that did not feed its young of its own body, but there were things that would always tell.

“Please,” I whispered. “Please, you must move. Someone will see you and think you strange. You will be Found Out.”

Her shoulders relaxed as the smile returned to her face, pretty actress falling back into a practiced role. “Yes, sir, I understand,” she said. “What you’re describing is a fairly unique circumstance.”

She could not speak freely. I hesitated before asking, “You know who we belong to, yes?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

“Our family can pay in favors, or in gold. We cannot set the price for them, but we can speak to them of your goodness and kindness, of the risk you took on our behalf. We can make you a miracle in their eyes.”

Her expression hardened slightly. “Oh,” she said. “I think you can do a little better than that.”



* * *





SAM


“Grandma?” Sam knocked again, a little harder this time. “Hey, it’s almost dinner time. I was thinking KFC. How do you feel about chicken?”

There was no reply. He sighed and knocked again.

“See, I know you’re in there, because the truck’s here and also I saw someone moving behind the curtains right before I started knocking. Pretending you’re not is only going to annoy me, and you know what I do when you annoy me? I annoy you. So unless you want me hammering on your door and singing the ‘Happy Banana’ song at the top of my lungs—”

The door swung open. Emery looked at him wearily. “You hate that song.”

“Yeah, but you hate it more,” he said, and stepped past her into the room. “The enemy of my enemy is my friend; the earworm of my grandmother is my weapon. Do you want chicken?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You’re not a very good liar, either.” Sam shrugged. “I’d say I was sorry about barging in, but Mary’s been doing it to me all day, and you know what? It works. Like, really well. Once somebody barges in, you sort of have to deal with them, whether you want to or not. So now you have to deal with me.”

“Samuel, please.” Emery looked at him wearily. “I’m not in the mood.”

“Because I ran off to take Annie’s mice to the airport and then I refused to back down on that whole thing where I’m not human and you don’t get to pretend I am when you’re trying to decide what kind of happy ending would be best for me.”

Emery glared. Sam shrugged again, transforming at the same time, so that he finished the gesture with his tail wrapped around his ankle and his toes gripping the carpet.

“We both got pretty pissed at Annie for lying to us. Shouldn’t that mean we tell the truth?”

“You’re too young to understand how dangerous this all is.”

“Grandma, I’ve known how dangerous the world was since I was six years old and you fired that roustabout for talking about how much money you could get if you sold me to a freak show.”

Emery went still.

“I mean, I say ‘fired,’ but I’m pretty that if I went looking for him tomorrow, I’d find out he disappeared with no forwarding address a long time ago, wouldn’t I? On account of how he never came back to kidnap me and make his fortune. The world has never been a safe place, for anybody. Maybe you inherit a tail from your dad and maybe you get hired by a carnival that tempts you more than you can resist. Or maybe you’re born into a family of monster hunters and feel like your back is up against the wall. We don’t get safe. We just get to choose what kind of dangerous we go after.”

“You already told me you were going to go after her, and I didn’t fight you,” said Emery. “What else do you want from me?”

“I want you to say you understand, maybe, or that you like Annie even though she’s a Price, and you’re okay with her being the reason I finally found something I wanted more than I wanted to take care of you,” said Sam. “I want you to say you’ll love me no matter what I do or where I go. I want you to mean it. Can you mean it? Please?”

“Of course I’ll love you no matter what you do or where you go,” said Emery. She sighed, sitting on the corner of the bed. “You know, in my day, it was a given that the next generation would stay and run the carnival. Let our elders retire gracefully.”

“The only way you’re going to retire gracefully is if the gravedigger hits you with the shovel until you stop trying to climb out,” said Sam.

Emery laughed. “Maybe so. Maybe so. But I always thought you’d take over.”

“Maybe I will.” Sam smiled. “I love the carnival. I don’t know if I could ever be happy living under a roof that never moved, waking up every day in the same place. And I’m not saying Annie and I are going to run off and live happily ever after. Maybe I’ll come back after getting it all out my system, and settle down and learn how our insurance works.”

“Or maybe you’ll bring her back with you,” said Emery.

“Also an option. I’m not leaving forever. I’m not even leaving right now.”

“Not until Mary tells you it’s time to go.” Emery couldn’t keep the bitterness out of her voice.