The world tilted. The sofa skidded to the left three feet left, pushed back by the massive dragon's tail. The coffee table did a power slide straight into the wall. Above, the ceiling seemed to warp, and the chandelier just barely missed getting sheared in half by a midnight-black wing. Furniture avalanched to the room's edge. I clung to Mere, too shocked to scream.
The white cat, whose name I hadn't caught, jumped off the couch and looked at the dragon as though the enormous freaking dragon moving the couch with the bulk of his body had just inconvenienced her to the core of her being.
Huey, on the other hand, piddled a little on the floor.
The dragon breathed. Deeply, slowly, like the whole house was an accordion and his lungs controlled the rhythm. Each inhale drew heat. Each exhale sent a shimmer of warmth rolling over us, thick as summer.
Maeve adjusted her bathrobe and said as if this were totally normal, "This is Caden, by the way. Chance's dragon."
Chance's. Dragon.
Caden could have eaten a Thanksgiving turkey in one bite. His eyes, huge and silver, fixed on Fifi. Not angry, just calm and old, or old-looking. Wise? Whatever, he was sure of himself.
I was decidedlynotsure of myself.
That's when the shimmer under Fifi's skin turned liquid. Her arms shook. She tried to speak, but the only sound was a raw whimper. I looked for her eyes, but they'd turned molten gold. Actual light pulsed beneath her skin, her veins, her eyelids, even her teeth.
Caden lowered his massive head and tucked it near her, careful as a cat rounding up kittens. The room rocked, but he didn't touch her, he just hummed, a low frequency so rich I could taste it between my teeth. The walls might've blown apart if he hadn't been so measured.
Huey howled before flattening himself to the carpet, whining in terror.
Caden hummed again, and this time, every other piece of furniture in the room heaved outwards, as if gravity had stopped working properly. The pianobench slammed into the far wall. The armchair teetered, then toppled. Only Maeve stayed put, hands up, eyes closed, chanting something in a language I didn't understand.
She went on, a steady litany, never raising her voice. Through it, Caden's breath filled the room, a living bellows. Hot air wrapped around all of us.
Fifi arched backward. She screamed once, raw and wild, the kind of sound you hope you never hear from your own kid. Light exploded out of her, so bright I thought it would melt my retinas.
When it faded, Fifi was gone.
In her place, sprawled on the last empty patch of living room floor, was a dragon with shining copper scales.. She wasn't as gigantic as Caden. She was easily half his size. Maybe the size of a compact car, but she was bigger than any of the rest of us. Her wings, delicate and veined with gold, splayed awkwardly behind her, half-tangled in a knit blanket. Her claws dug into the hardwood.
The last chair tumbled, the final casualty of the insanity.
For several seconds, nobody moved. Not the dog, not Mere, not me.
The copper dragon twitched, then let out a noise so scared and lost it broke something inside me.
I hit the floor. Not a controlled move, not some tactical crouch. My legs just vanished under me, and I collapsed, dragging Mere down with me. The nearest pillow was on the floor, so I grabbed it. Not to throw, but to shield myself. I stared through the cotton, shaking so hard my teeth banged together.
"This isn't real. This isn't real, this isn't real." It turned into babble, just a string of syllables. "You drugged me. You freaking drugged me, didn't you? LSD? PCP? What the hell is this?"
My palms were slick, my heart doing Olympic sprints in my chest. There was nothing else. Just dragons, magic, and the taste of terror, real, raw, no chaser.
I think I shrieked again. I couldn't stop staring at them. Mere was glued to my side, both of us twisted together on the floor amid the wreckage. Chairs askew, pillows everywhere, the reality of dragons staring us straight in the teeth. My hands locked around Mere's arm, and she didn't even try to break free. She was shaking, but her chin shot up, determined not to let anybody see.
Huey pressed against my shins, the whole length of him, warm and real. He didn't bark now, just planted himself between me and the monsters, his body vibrating but so brave.
The cat looked bored.
Caden or Chance or whatever I was supposed to call him, shifted across the wrecked space and curled his enormous frame until his head lay inches from the smaller dragon. The copper one.
My daughter.
The sight of her nearly undid me. Fifi was gone, not gone, but changed. Her scales caught every scrap of firelight, shifting in waves of bronze and gold. Her claws flexed, and her eyes burned liquid sunshine. She looked amazed and terrified, but mostly lost.
Caden, wings tucked to fit the room, kept his head low, making a humming noise. Warmth poured over us, like the world's best heated blanket. If I ignored the claws and the teeth and the general mind-melt, it was almost comforting.
Maeve dusted off her robe and stepped over a smashed side table like the whole thing was routine. She nudged a cushion out of the way and crouched beside us, her stare kind and laser-sharp all at once.
