Sunny threw back her head and laughed, then started choking so hard that she got beer up her nose. The alcohol burned, but she didn’t care. It had been ages since she had laughed this much. Clint seemed so cool and standoffish at first that she’d thought the whole evening was going to be hopelessly strained. But after a few beers he’d loosened up quite a bit. Now, well past when they both probably should have been in bed, they were out here trying to outdo each other with stories of stupid stuff they’d done. Clint had just finished telling her about the time in high school that he and some friends got a bullhorn and a flashing light and went around using the bullhorn’s siren sound along with the light to make people think they were police. They had pulled over car after car and then driven by hanging out the window of Clint’s truck yelling “Just kidding.” They got away with it until they accidentally pulled over an undercover cop and earned themselves a trip to the county jail—and threats from their parents that they would be grounded for life if they ever tried something like that again.
“I can’t believe that you would do something like that,” Sunny said, wiping away her tears of laughter.
“Why not?” Clint asked, chuckling a little bit himself. “I don’t seem like the fake cop type?”
“It’s just that you seem so straight-laced and proper. I have a hard time imagining you running around like a hooligan and pulling people over with a bullhorn.”
“Never underestimate the stupidity of a group of teenage boys with too much time on their hands and no adult supervision,” Clint said. “Besides, I’m not as straight laced as you think,”
Sunny was about to argue with that statement, but Clint’s face had suddenly turned serious.
“I just have a lot on my plate right now. Not much time for fun.” His voice sounded wistful.
Sunny chewed her lip, wondering if she should press him for details. He seemed like a very private person, but he had opened up a little bit tonight. Maybe she could get a bit more out of him. “Busy at work?”
He grunted in response.
Sunny almost gave up, but then figured she didn’t have anything to lose. The worst he could do was shut down her inquiries. She knew what it was like to want to keep secrets, and she wouldn’t be offended if he didn’t want to talk to her. She understood that sometimes there were things you just couldn’t tell.
“You work at the Dragon Utilization Department, right?”
Another grunt.
“What do you do there?”
He didn’t make any sounds, not even a grunt, for several long moments. Just when Sunny thought he wasn’t going to answer her at all, he finally spoke up.
“I’m responsible for the team that works with the Dragon Recovery Bureau to try to bring more dragons to live in Torch Lake. Business is not so good at the moment.”
“Oh.” Sunny had heard plenty of rumors about the struggles that Torch Lake was having with recruiting dragons. The city had no shortage of cash, and frequently offered huge financial incentives to dragons to move here. But they still hadn’t been able to get any new dragons for quite some time. “I bet that’s a stressful job.”
“It is. And I should be getting some sleep now instead of drinking way too many beers.”
Clint stood up. Her cue that their impromptu pizza party was over. Sunny felt the disappointment wash over her in waves. She had wanted this night to last forever, and not just because Clint was impossibly handsome, and yes, what girl wouldn’t fall for a dragon? It was more than that. She’d felt happy and relaxed for perhaps the first time since she’d left her clan in a hurry all those years ago.
Clint was already gathering up the pizza box and paper plates, though, and Sunny knew better than to overstay her welcome. She stood as well, and put on a bright smile. “Thanks for the pizza. How much do I owe you? I can swing by with some cash tomorrow.”
Clint waved her away. “Don’t worry about it. I got it.”
Sunny thought about politely protesting, but she was too relieved to say anything else. Her bank account balance was hovering just above zero, and she wouldn’t get a paycheck from the Bewitched Bean for three weeks. She’d have to live off of her cash tips until then, which meant she was probably going to be eating a lot of Ramen noodles. Wizards weren’t exactly the most generous of tippers.
“Thanks. Good night, then,” she said. Clint grunted in response, and Sunny turned to walk home feeling somewhat dejected. Whatever wall he’d built around his heart had come down for a brief moment tonight, but the wall was back up now. Sunny felt disappointed, but she told herself it was for the best. Yes, he was an attractive man, but did she really want to get into some sort of relationship with him? She needed to keep her secrets, too.
She went back into her small house with Mocha trailing along behind her. It was late, but she didn’t think she’d be able to sleep yet. Her brain was swirling in too many different directions. So she went to the pile of boxes in her living room and sifted through them until she came to one labeled “Eagle Thicket.”
Slowly, almost reverently, Sunny opened the box. This small box was all she had left of her old life back in Eagle Thicket. It held the few things she’d taken with her when her old High Council had sent her into hiding. She wiped a few tears from her eyes as she pulled out a picture of her parents and younger brother, all of whom had never been heard from again after the fire. She sniffed at a dry flower that was pressed between the pages of an old novel. The novel was nothing special. She’d been reading the book the day she’d been sent away, so she’d brought it with her to help pass time while she was holed up in her secret hideout. But the flower was precious to her. It was a wildflower she’d picked from the city garden to use as a bookmark. Now, it had dried out between the pages of her book—a tiny, preserved memory of the place she had lived before the war. The place she had loved with all her heart and would never see again.
Sunny set the book aside and dug deeper, pulling out a book from the Academy of Ancient Magic. The book was an exhaustive encyclopedia of ancient magic spells. Barnabas, the Head Wizard of the Academy, had given it to her right before she left, telling her to guard it carefully.
“You never know when you might need to use one of these spells,” he’d said, his wrinkled, leathered hands shaking as he handed it over to her. Now, as far as Sunny knew, this was the last complete ancient magic encyclopedia in existence in the world.
A pang of guilt struck her. She should show the book to Torch Lake’s High Council. She knew they’d be interested in it. They might even try to start an ancient magic academy here, with her as some sort of teacher. They would tell Sunny she had an obligation to pass her knowledge on to future generations of wizards, and they would be right about that. But she couldn’t bear to think about ancient magic. Not when it had been the reason her clan had been obliterated so violently during the War. The dark wizards had wanted the ancient magic spells forgotten. The spells were too powerful, and could do too much to hold back evil.
But the spells were not foolproof. They had not protected Sunny’s family, Barnabas, or her friends. And Sunny would not live her life in fear of being sought out and harassed, harmed, or hurt. Worse, she would not live her life in fear of anyone close to her being harassed or hurt. Not that there was anyone close to her right now, but you never knew when friends or romance might enter your life. Sunny wasn’t going to take a chance on dragging someone else into her mess.
No, the secrets of ancient magic would probably die with her. And maybe it was better that way. After all, the spells were powerful. And power often corrupts. Sunny set aside the book and reached into the box for the last item, an old, worn-out t-shirt. The t-shirt was a bright blue in color, with a white logo on the front from the Eagle Thicket’s Academy of Ancient Magic. It had been a throwaway t-shirt before her clan’s destruction—the kind of thing you wore to mow the lawn or work out in. Now, it was one of Sunny’s most treasured possessions. Just like the dried flower, it represented a small bit of everything she had lost.
Sunny couldn’t take any more of the sadness tonight. She pushed the box away and decided to go do something useful, like unpacking her kitchen. She didn’t have a lot of stuff, so if she worked at it she might even be able to get everything put away tonight. Sunny soon lost herself in the task of sorting dishes and flatware, and she even managed to hum a little as she worked. By the time Sunny fell, exhausted, into her bed, it was nearly four a.m. She was too tired to change back into pajamas, or to try to find the comforter that she still hadn’t unpacked. She just lay down on the bare mattress and drifted off into a deep, deep sleep, never suspecting that tomorrow would change everything.