Chapter Six

“Open up, Vingarde! We know you’re in there!”

Behind his living room armchair, Petra evaded the shouts from the intruders at his door.

He was clutching his beloved “Catalyst.” A sword that had become quite famous in the short span of his career. He’d have no choice but to use it if things went south.

Thump thump thump!

“Open this door!” The pounding was giving Petra a headache.

When the voices outside finally quieted, Petra held his breath to listen. Then, something rather strange happened. The voices became distorted and began to speak in unison.

“PETRA. IT’S TIME TO PAY!”

“Those guys sure are persistent.” Erräs took a sip from Petra’s favorite teacup. “You’re in real hot water, aren’cha?”

“Uncle!?” Petra exclaimed. Erräs had appeared in the armchair that Petra was hiding behind. He peered over the edge, looking down at his nephew with a carefree grin.

“What’re you doing here?” Petra demanded. “This is all your fault! You’re the one they should be hunting down, not me!”

“BOO-HOO, THE RENT IS DUE!” The voices outside chanted.

“Aw, give me a break, kiddo,” said Erräs. “The way I see it, I set you up good! You’re doing great in Cresswoven! Got that super cool sword, plenty of friends—” he chugged the rest of his tea like it was a five o’clock tequila— “Mmn! Learn to take out that trash every once in awhile, I’ll bet you could have a cute girl in here too!” He pointed to a spot where garbage sacks were piled in the corner.

“PEE-YEW! THE RENT IS DUE!” Petra stood up and smacked the cup out of Erräs’s hand. “Get out of my house!”

A low growl rumbled from the armchair.

“Now look what you’ve done, you ungrateful fleshling!” Petra screamed as his uncle turned his head towards him. He was wearing Andre’s face. “Maybe if you had just done the job I asked you to, you wouldn’t be in this mess!” it shrilled.

The uncle-dragon covered it’s snout with it’s hands. And with a great lack of self-restraint, began to sneeze Petra’s house to flaming smithereens.

“AH-CHOO! THE RENT IS DUE!”

When Petra awoke, the quiet world materialized, along with a view of the patio’s ceiling. The room was mostly dark, but a hint of eager blue was waiting in the sky for its turn to usher in the morning.

Petra glanced at the back door to reassure himself that no demon landlords were still trying to break in.

It seemed like for the longest time, he had forgotten what the morning was supposed to sound like. Today, it was horn-tailed doves and the soft rustle of wind in the trees. Andre was wrong. Petra was exceedingly grateful.

Earlier that night, Sterling had escaped to her room to smuggle him Amber’s gecko-root pills. Despite her temper, it was clear that her motherly nature had vied for control, and won. She had made it her business to drop several other “care items” from her window.

Petra had first caught a bundle that Sterling tied up in a fleece blanket. Inside was a flask of drinking water, a pair of dry clothes, a towel, and a comb. A second bundle contained whatever Sterling was able to grab from the kitchen—a piece of sausage from the leftovers pot, and a handful of wallownut cookies from out of the jar.

As for Amber, Petra had been left alone once again to contend with her needs. Trouble was, he couldn’t recall anything that had happened after he’d finished eating.

“Amber?” He scrambled to his feet. There was no presence of her in the patio, but the fleece blanket she had slept under was folded neatly atop the ottoman. A cool draft seeping in from the back door beckoned Petra outside where he found Amber and Sterling sitting in the grass.

“There you are, princess.” Sterling peppered him with her usual ruthlessness. “You just missed out on your royal butt-whooping.”

“Sterling was about to go in and get you, Petra,” Amber spoke. Petra’s jaw dropped. Was he still dreaming? Or did Amber suddenly have a voice?

“You’re okay, right?” he blurted out after staring for too long. “The medicine—I mean, did it work? I think I fell asleep. I was afraid maybe I hadn’t given it to you.” Sterling and Amber exchanged looks of sympathy.

“Actually,” Amber confessed, “you were so tired you almost grabbed for the pills to eat instead of the cookies.” Sterling snickered to herself softly.

Is that why I had that stupid dream? Petra wondered. There was a reason Azurites didn’t ingest traditional medicine.

“I’m glad I moved them away in time,” Amber went on. “I was conscious through everything, so I heard that medicine was meant for me.”

Petra fidgeted with the soft hairs in back of his neck. He was feeling vulnerable that night and had been under the impression that Sterling was the only one to witness it.

“And?” He pursued. “The gecko-root helped?”

“Oh yes. I think so.” Amber touched her fingers to her neck. “I couldn’t speak. It hurt too much—”

“Your throat?” She diverted her gaze as her eyes began to well.

“Before you came, I thought, I must’ve done something really wrong to deserve ending up where I was. I knew I was going to die. I just prayed someone else would be there with me before it happened—”

Sterling smoothed her hand back and forth across Amber’s back.

“You have me and Petra here now, okay? The only thing I want you to think about is what you want to do from here on out.” She turned to Petra expecting affirmation, and he just dipped his head solemnly.

I wish I could have your foresight, Cass, he thought. I’d promise her future in a heartbeat if I knew whether I had any control of mine.

Sterling glanced nervously at the house.

“I hate to rush you two, but the sky says it’s half past six, and my father is going to be getting up for work soon.”

“Right, then," said Petra. "We’ll get ready to be on our way.”

“Sterling? Amber asked as she reclaimed her spot on Petra’s back. “What does your father have against Petra?”

“You mean besides the fact that he’s a tights-wearing primadonna who sticks his nose in everyone’s business?”

“Oh shut up, Cass!” He flicked her on the forehead. “I told you, it’s called a contour top, all the patrol officers wear them.” Sterling brayed with laughter.

“I don't know if its that he has anything against me personally—its more that allowing an illegal to be friends with his daughter kinda puts his job at risk."

"Yeah, nothing personal at all," mumbled Sterling.

"What do you mean by illegal? " asked Amber. Petra could feel her heart rate quicken as she pressed into his back.

"I mean, I'm not supposed to be in Parparra,” he explained. “My people are kind of, well—owned by the government.” Amber raised her eyebrows.

"Um, how can I put this? I'm called an Azurite. We're humans that have the ability to regenerate cells through touch. Something far beyond what normal physicians are capable of. Council protects us and allows us to do what we want within our borders, and in exchange, we have to follow their rules.”

He adjusted Amber on his shoulders like a backpack. “It’s a lot to explain, but basically, only certain high-ranking members of my people are allowed to leave the country.

And people like my uncle, who's a courier."

"That's amazing!" Amber beamed. "The part about your ability, anyway." Petra looked at Sterling helplessly, and Sterling was prepared to absorb the hurt in his gaze.

“Our boy here is particularly special,” Sterling spoke up. “And that's why they don’t want him roaming around free in the world. They can’t be sure what he’s capable of yet.”

“That’s the short version of it,” Petra sighed. “Sterling’s Pa loves his job, but I guess he loves his daughter more. Maybe just enough to resist turning me in.”

“You’re at his wit’s end, and don’t you forget it! Don’t let him forget it, okay, muffin?”

Sterling gently scruffed the hair on Amber’s head. “She’s too precious. If you hurt her I’ll kill you and make it look like an embarrassing sword accident,” Sterling whispered in Petra’s ear. Amber smiled shyly.

“Yes ma’am! No homicides, fratricides, or any actions warranting my need to be tried, fried, or crucified, will be taking place in the foreseeable future!” He tipped an imaginary hat to her, and started in the direction for home.

“And make sure whatever it takes, you get her to a proper physician!” Sterling called after him.

“Whatever it takes.” He lifted his left arm skyward and crossed his fingers in the air.

Petra had known his friend long enough to sense the twinge of loneliness she hid whenever he said goodbye to her. She’d sooner eat a bowl of chalk than admit it. Love you too, Cass.

Compared to their previous trips, reaching Petra’s house was like night and day. Partially because it was, in fact, daytime. The road to Cressdale was no longer dark and dangerous. Instead, it was vivid and somewhat calming.

Occasionally, a man or a woman passed by them in the opposite direction. Most were on their way to work. But Petra had, for once, a small luxury. On Tuesdays, he worked at the Red Kettle. And if he rose early enough, he had the morning all to himself before starting his shift.

“So Amber?” Petra began as they entered the walkway of his tiny cottage. “I just want you to be aware that I do have, sort of a roommate. A room-drake, I should say.”

“A dragon lives here?” It was official. Even Amber saw the absurdity of the cards life had dealt him.

“Well you see, my uncle Erräs, he met this dragon on one of his trips to Emberwick Council. As I mentioned, he’s a courier, so it’s his job to deliver important stuff to and from our village.

Apparently, he stopped at this bar for lunch and noticed this big green dragon wearing a Council lanyard. So he asked that dragon what he was doing so far from Council during working hours.”

Amber was listening, but Petra figured he should curb the details for her sake. He'd heard the story himself a thousand times and it was already making him drowsy.

“Um, and so, the dragon started going on and on to him about how he was quitting his job cause he hated it. And my uncle was like, ‘no way! I hate Council too!’ Yadda, yadda—they bonded over that.”

Petra stopped at the front door and apologetically asked Amber to slide off of his back. He bent over and pulled off one of his boots. A small skeleton key dropped out when he shook it. Amber made a face, and Petra prayed to Sol that it was due to his odd key placement and not because his feet smelled like a sweaty cabbage. “Er, last time I lost this thing, I had to break the door down—I really can’t afford any more repairs.”

“Petra?”

“Hm?”

“The dragon story,” Amber persisted. “It’s relevant to this roommate—how, exactly?”

“Oh, sorry. I, uh, lost focus a bit.” He seemed to be struggling to fit the key in the door.

“So that green dragon lives here—” Amber tried again slowly. “And your uncle?” The lock gave a click and Petra turned to Amber with a weary expression.

“My uncle and the dragon became business partners. What business they partnered on, I still don’t even know. But I do know it wasn’t good. Honestly, I would’ve preferred to have avoided bringing you here today,” Petra sighed.

Amber watched Petra with a sense of nervous intrigue. Maybe he amused her. Maybe she felt sorry for him. Whatever the case, what she saw when he opened the door made her wonder if she had been rescued by the wrong patrol officer.