Daredevil Riders

Strangest Feelings

Mirabel picked one question out of the hundreds ricocheting around in her brain. Maybe if she had more information, she could figure this out. “What’s the Directorate?”

“The Directorate is the ruling body that creates laws to keep dragons under their thumb,” her dad said. “The young man you met today is part of a political group called the Revisionists. They want more individual rights for dragons.”

The memory of losing control over her body made her shiver. “The eye thing he did, was it magic?”

Her mom’s cup hit the table with a thud. “He pushed you?”

Anger and embarrassment made her cheeks burn. “I tried to walk away, but his pupils did this weird swirling thing and then I was Puppet Girl.”

Frost shot from her mom’s nose, coating the table with a fine layer of sparkling ice. “Sorry. I haven’t lost control like that since I was your age. Pushing other dragons is… Well, it’s rude. It’s a safety spell to protect dragons from humans. If a dragon’s identity is discovered, we can push into peoples’ minds to influence their reactions.”

That could come in handy. “Will I learn to push people?”

“Not until you’re older,” her mom said.

“Too bad.” She sipped her tea and thought about everything. There were two possible answers. Either she was a shape-shifting dragon, or she was crazy. For now, she’d go with the dragon theory. “What else do I need to know?”

“After dinner,” her dad said, “we’ll go down to the studio and teach you how to shift.”

Once the table was cleared, Mirabel followed her parents down the inside stairwell that led to the martial arts studio below. Anticipation and dread made her palms sweat. Halfway down the stairs, the familiar scent of lemon floor wax comforted her. It smelled like home.

When they reached the studio, her father closed the window blinds. “Ready to see a real dragon?”

The answer was a big fat, No. If, or when, she saw her dad shift, this would all become real. She stalled for time. “Won’t you be too big to fit in the studio?”

“Hollywood got that part wrong. Real dragons are a little smaller than elephants.” His shoulders grew broader. The air around him shimmered and became smoky. Mirabel’s eyes watered as she tried to see through the haze. The smoke vanished. Standing in front of her was a Red dragon.

Holy crap. Her first instinct was to step backward. She caught herself and stood firm. “Dad?”

The dragon nodded. His green eyes were the only things she recognized. A bony ridge fanned out where his forehead would be. Two horns sat behind the ridge. Leather-like wings folded tight against his flanks. Smoke drifted from his snout as he exhaled. His voice came out as a low growl. “What do you think?”

Curiosity overwhelmed fear. She walked forward to examine him. The scales, which covered his body, were as large as her hand. When she touched them, they felt hard, like a construction helmet. Heat seeped from his body, and he smelled like a campfire.

She blinked, and the outline of her father’s human face flashed across his dragon face for a moment. This was too weird. She turned away to collect herself and discovered a Blue dragon. The Blue had the same dragon features but lacked the Red’s muscular bulk. Even as a dragon, her mom appeared slender and graceful. She smelled of freshly fallen snow.

There it was again. For a second, she could see her mom’s human face superimposed over her dragon face. Maybe that’s how dragons recognized one another. She filed the information away as one of the many things she’d ask about later. For now, she needed to focus on the basics. Her parents were shape-shifting dragons. And she was a shape-shifting dragon, too. Her brain disengaged, and she started to laugh.

Her mom, in human form, appeared at her side. “It’s a lot to take in, isn’t it?”

Afraid she’d see her mom differently, Mirabel glanced sideways. The same golden-skinned woman she’d known all her life smiled back. Her dad came up on her other side. He still had the same auburn hair, green eyes, and fair skin.

Avoiding the current issue, she reflected on the fact that, given a choice, she would’ve chosen her mom’s coloring. Freckled strawberry blondes weren’t known for being s*x symbols.

“Mirabel, honey, are you all right?” her mom asked.

Time to tune back into the problem at hand. “Just taking a small vacation in my head.”

“Understandable.” Dad squeezed her in a sideways hug. “Any questions?”

Just a thousand and one. Better to start with something simple. “Why didn’t you bust out of your clothes like the Incredible Hulk?”

Her dad chuckled. “That’s your first question?”

“Public nakedness isn’t something I want to experience.”

“Good point. When we change, our clothes, our jewelry, anything we are wearing is spelled to shift with us. Otherwise, we’d attract too much attention when we shifted back.” His expression became hopeful. “Do you want to try shifting?”

“Yes and no.” She took a deep breath and blew it out. “Do you think I’ll be purple?”

“You’d look regal,” her mom said. “Shifting is innate. Your body knows what to do.”

God, she hoped so. It wasn’t like she could play ostrich and this would go away. Maybe it was best to get it over with. “Okay. Walk me through it.”

“First, you need to center yourself,” her mom said, “like we do in yoga.”

Mirabel focused on moving air in and out of her lungs until she felt centered.

“Gather your life force in your abdomen and let it expand outward. Feel yourself growing larger.”

Her mom had obviously had an ulterior motive in teaching her yoga since she was five. She imagined her life force as a small sun, glowing in her belly. Taking another deep breath, she visualized the ball of power expanding.

Her muscles stretched, protested, and threatened to cramp. She gritted her teeth against the pain. Joints popped and expanded. Sweat ran between her shoulder blades, and then there was a sense of something inside of her unfurling. Thrown off-balance, she pitched forward.

“You did it,” her mom cheered.