Light Dragons 01 - Love in the Time of Dragons

that I must have had a painful fall sometime in my past.
    I realized now that Kaawa had been right—something had made me not worry about the fact that I couldn’t remember my past.
    “I have to say, the part that I can see looks like a . . . well, like a phoenix,” May said, examining the scar. “It disappears into your underwear, but it looks like those are outstretched wings.”
    “I think everyone has seen enough,” I said, giving Brom one of my scariest mom looks.
    He didn’t even flinch, the rat.
    “We could see this better if you took your underwear off,” he pointed out.
    “You did not just say that,” I said through clenched teeth.
    Confusion flashed across his face. “Yeah, I did. See, that part of it is underneath your underwear—”
    I slapped his hand where he was about to yank down the side of my undies. “That is quite enough!”
    “I’m sorry, Tully,” May said, straightening up. “This isn’t a scar. It’s not a brand, though, either. I don’t quite know what it is—it’s like it’s an anti-tattoo.”
    “Mayling,” Gabriel said, clearly asking her permission to look at the silly scar.
    She narrowed her eyes at him. “You do not need to be looking at strange women’s hips.”
    “I’m a healer! I’ve seen women’s bodies,” he protested.
    “Ysolde isn’t injured!”
    “You wouldn’t recognize a sept emblem as I would.”
    “I think I would. I’ve seen enough of them now.”
    “You are far from an expert—” he started to say, but I had finally had enough.
    “Oh, this is ridiculous.” I jerked the material of my skirt out of Brom’s hand and spun around, pulling the top side of my underwear down a few inches. “You want to see? Fine, you can see. Why don’t we get Kaawa and your big friend in to see as well? Perhaps announce it on the street and bring in a few strangers!”
    Gabriel ignored my little hissy fit as he stared at my hip for a few moments before his gaze rose to mine. His grey eyes were somber and considering. “I believe I have been mistaken.”
    “A voice of sanity at last!” I said, readjusting my underwear and letting the skirt fall back into place. “Thank you! It’s nice to know there’s someone who recognizes a scar when he sees one.”
    He shook his head. “That is no scar, Ysolde.”
    “Tully. My name is Tully.”
    “Your name is Ysolde,” he said firmly, his eyes glittering strangely in the night. I opened my mouth to protest, but he continued. “I was wrong about you being a silver dragon. You do not bear our emblem. You do, however, bear that of the black dragons.”
    I closed my mouth and, taking Brom’s hand, turned on my heel, walking back into the house and up the stairs to the room where I’d woken up.
    Brom watched me for a few minutes before saying, “May says I can sleep in the room next to this one ’cause she figures you’ll want me close by. I told her you didn’t think I was such a baby.”
    “That was very thoughtful of May. I do indeed want you close by. I’ve missed you terribly.”
    He grimaced. “I hope you’re not going to go all mom on me in front of everyone. I like them. I like Gabriel and May. They’re nice, huh? Did you know May can go invisible?”
    I shook my head, my brain numbed by the events of the day. What was happening to me? Was I losing my grip on reality, or was something more profound, infinitely more frightening, controlling my life?
    “She said she’s made up of shadows, but I think she was just teasing me, because she feels just like a normal person. But she showed me in the car coming here how she can disappear. She said you have to be born that way to do it, that she’s something with a long name, and that’s why she can become invisible.”
    A word nudged its way to the front of my mind. “Doppelganger.”
    “Yeah, that’s it.” He plopped himself down on the bed next to me. “Gabriel says if Gareth had been a mortal human, I could have been a wyvern, and one day challenged him for the job.”
    “Gareth is human,” I said, feeling as if a thousand ants were marching up and down my body.
    “Sullivan,” he said with an exaggerated eye roll. “Have you seen those pictures of him and Ruth and you in old-time clothes? He’s got to be at least a hundred years old. Maybe more.”
    “Pictures? What pictures?” I roused from my stupor in order to look at him.
    “The ones in Ruth’s room.”
    I dug through what remained of my memory. “I don’t remember seeing