“You have to think like a lizard,” Novi said.
“Sorry?”
“Scaly. Pointy tongue.” She stuck her human tongue in and out to demonstrate. “Itchy back from the wings. Lack of opposable thumbs. Bit of drool. Plus you’re cold when it’s cold and hot when it’s hot….”
“You don’t like being a dragon?”
Novi grinned. “I’m kidding. It’s fantastic. But you should have seen your face!”
I hadn’t known Novi had a sense of humor. I grinned ather.
Mom was not amused. “The Reckoning is in three days. Every dragon out there has had many more than three days to practice. If you don’t want to teach my daughter—”
Novi waved her hand. “Sorry. All right. The truth is it’s all about attitude. You have to own the sky. You deserve the sky. You rival the sun with your greatness. Let that sunlight fill you andownit.”
That was just as ridiculous as the first bit of advice. “You’re telling me if I believe in myself hard enough and strong enough, I can be a dragon?” Then I thought of Gabriela and how she had to believe to activate Maximus’s spell—maybe thiswasn’tso ridiculous.
“Yes. And then you leap off a cliff.” Without pausing to explain any more, Novi ran forward toward the edge of the cliff. My heart flew into my throat as she, running, sailed off into nothingness with awhoop.
She then plummeted, like a cartoon coyote.
A second later, I heard athump, thump…and a small orange dragon rose up above us. She still wore a talon amulet around her neck. She flapped so she swooshed toward us; then her wings collapsed on her back, and her body shrank into Novi, in her green scale armor. “See?”
“You’re not naked.” I also could have pointed out she’d just violated several natural laws, including conservation of matter.
“Your clothes transform as well,” Mom told me. “We aren’t like werewolves, changing involuntarily into beasts. Mentally and emotionally, we remain ourselves. We’re more akin to shape-shifters. Like that blue X-Men comic book character. But in our case, our transformation magic is tied to our self-image—if your self-image includes clothes, then those change with you. If you were a casual nudist, I imagine the result would be quite different. One caveat: the amulet from the Reckoning will not transform, nor will any othergold.”
I frowned, trying to absorb this ridiculous lesson. I was okay with violating the basic laws of physics, I decided—after all, Novi had just done that—but telling me that it all hinged on my self-esteem seemed less plausible. “So I believe I’m a dragon and just leap? I feel like your instructions are missing a few key steps.”
Novi shrugged. “That’s it.”
“Don’t I need some pixie dust or something? Click my heels together three times and say, ‘There’s nothing like being a large mythological reptile’?”
She smiled, even though I couldn’t imagine she got the reference. I hadn’t seen any TVs here. “Only if it makes you feel better.”
Mom laid her hand on my shoulder. “Honey, it’s in your blood. It’s your nature. All you have to do is love who youare.”
I looked at her. Looked at Novi. Looked at Mom again. “If it’s this easy, why hasn’t anyone on Earth done it? Why were we all told the ability had been lost?”
“We were lied to by the council,” Mom said, “I presume to keep our kind safe. In the Dark Ages, we were hunted. There are many on the council who fear a return to those days—even with our firepower, humans on Earth have us at a disadvantage. We are vastly outnumbered. And Sky, it’s not easy. You have to believe fully and completely.”
“Right,” Novi chimed in. “If you don’t believe, you will splat on the rocks, which incidentally is what happened to Worm. Splat, splat, thud.” Novi demonstrated by flopping her hands over one another.
“And once you fail, it’s a lot harder to believe,” Mom said. “It is, sadly, a self-perpetuating cycle for those with difficulties accepting their destiny.”
I peeked over the edge of the cliff. “You are both lousy teachers.”
“You have to learn this,” Novi said. “The Reckoning is coming! No wyvern can avoid it, at least no wyvern who wants to eat.”
“It’s about self-confidence,” Mom said. “And self-knowledge.”
“It’s about believing you can do it,” Novi said, earnest and serious. “And knowing who you are. So who are you? That’s the key question. Are you a wyvern?”
Yes.
I am Sky Hawkins, and I am a were-dragon. I’ve been called stuck-up both in the tabloids and in the hallways of P.Murphy High, a poor little rich girl who surrounded herself with false friends and shallow dreams. Arrogant. Conceited. Egotistical. Haughty. Self-absorbed. All the synonyms, I’d heard them. But they were wrong.
It’s not arrogant to know who you are.
