Opal’s face sharpens. “Don’t do that. Don’t pull the ‘woe is me’ grift when you’ve got everything it takes to be outstanding. I won’t have it. I’m not that silly school you went to, I expect the best from you because I know you can do it. Do you know how privileged you are to have someone to teach you all this? What did I have? Who did I have? Nothing and no one.”
We may not be only speaking of magic now.
It’s difficult to breathe. Usually, when someone backs me into a corner, I get to tell myself a little story. I tell myself that they don’t understand, that the complexities of me are specific only to me and I share nothing with anyone. In the story, I am the hero, and they’re all the villains. Anything I do is acceptable because they are bad. Doing bad things to bad people is a loophole in the Golden Rule, I tell myself. I don’t look too closely at that; I don’t let it interrupt the flow of my narrative.
But I can’t do any of that with Opal. She is like me. A witch like me. Neurodivergent like me. She knows what it means to find the sun too blistering while others beg for it to be hotter. She winces at louder sounds, hates public transport and the feeling of buttons. She speaks directly and doesn’t bother with the hidden subtleties that neurotypical people like so much. She has a social battery that runs out just as rapidly as mine does. She struggles with communication. Her balance is fragile. Her brain is a brilliant, busy hive of a thing with thousands of years of taking the high road and ignoring the jeers and being the better person.
She is made like me, and she has never for a second let anyone back her into a corner for it. She is loyal. She is stoic. She is everything I want to be.
I think I’ve been telling lies. Not just to her and Mum and Aunt Leanna. But to myself.
“Look at your cousin,” Opal says despairingly.
I do. I look at Marley. He looks worn out and pale.
“Why don’t you think for a moment about what he saw earlier?” she adds. “When that creature transformed. Why don’t you ask him if he’s all right? Maybe even wish him a happy birthday.”
She says the words steadily and then turns for home. Leaving us alone by Alona in her tree form.
“She knew we were sneaking out,” Marley says flatly.
“Marley,” I prod. “Are you all right?”
He waves away my forced question. “Fine.”
“Who was he—”
“No one,” he says curtly. “He was nobody, Ramya.”
Chapter SEVENTEEN
Bad Fortune
We fly the dragon to Edinburgh a second time.
“You shouldn’t have come back.”
Freddy says the words, but I can see a flicker of happiness at the sight of the four of us. Marley, Alona, Blue and me. Alona has borrowed one of Marley’s oversized hoodies, so as to hide her obvious Dryad features. Blue is merrily sinking into the Forth River, after a long journey from Loch Ness, splashing her tail for her own amusement.
“We won’t be long, girl,” I tell the huge dragon, as she begins to disappear.
She gives me a look that conveys a lot of disbelief.
“Can I…?” Freddy takes a tentative step towards the river, staring at Blue. “I’ve never seen anything like a dragon before.”
Blue snarls at first and it terrifies me, even though it’s directed at Freddy. He hesitates but is determined. He stretches out his hand, palm open, and gives Blue her own space to respond. Her snarl softens but her eyes are fixed upon him with unwavering fierceness. Her nostrils flare and her tail suddenly twitches. Freddy stands firm. He lowers his eyes, deliberately unconfrontational.
We all watch and wait. Alona is holding her breath; Marley is glancing between Freddy and the dragon.
I feel calm. I know Blue will see what I see.
She rests her giant chin on top of Freddy’s open palm and closes her eyes. It’s a docile act, but at no point do any of us forget she is a dragon. I look at Freddy’s face and I’m shocked to see his eyes are shining.
“She likes you,” I tell him, trying to be reassuring.
“Yes,” he says, sounding slightly breathless.
I’m confused. “That’s good, Freddy. Right?”
“It’s just,” he looks sadly at me and then back to the dragon, “Hidden creatures rarely like me. Humans like me a little too much but other magical creatures… they never do. This is just… it’s nice, is all.”
He brings up his other hand to gently touch the dragon’s face. It’s strangely beautiful. A Siren boy and a water dragon, the Loch Ness ‘Monster’ herself, gently touching each other.
For a moment I forget. I forget why we’re here and I just enjoy looking at the peace of it all.
Freddy holds a lot of that peace within himself as we leave Blue and set off into town, the lights of Edinburgh a little brighter than the last time we visited. Curfew has been set to a later time of night, we are told. I look at the humans as they move around the city in eerie contentedness. I’m sure if I asked them, they would be shocked to know that their behaviour has become so influenced by one person. A Siren.
“There’s a Christmas market up now,” Freddy
tells us.
“How is your mother controlling them all?” I ask him. “Ren wanted to get close to my parents because they were on television, is that what she’s using?”
“Not to my knowledge,” Freddy replies. “I think
it’s radio.”
“Radio?” Marley and I say in unison.